spring (e) motion

silver filaments of motion

coloring the buds in subtle dance

reaching for more

a delicate tone touches limbs

softly embracing gentle air

a quiver

more longing

elongating tension


the moment of stilness

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How does sharing dinner and wine with friends relate to authenticity and responsibility?

A few evenings ago, a small group of friends and myself had dinner and a glass of wine together. It was a simple evening with no agenda and no plans except to show up and share a meal. At one point during the dinner, it became so obvious that each of us was feeling extremely good about life. Let me introduce the idea that we are all over the age of 55 and retired or semi retired.  Our financial situations are all different as are our living spaces. Three were single and two made up a couple. As I stood outside of myself, I could see and I could feel the difference in my companions from even a few months ago. The energy that swirled around us told me we had all found the path to inner peace and acceptance of life and what the meaning of life meant to us, as individuals and as a collective. The roles we played in one another’s lives brought us together at that very moment, sharing friendship. There was a palpable presence that I could feel in the air. I do not want to cheapen the experience by saying, there was a sort of “magic in the air”, but my heart swelled with joy in my chest. This was one of those moments that permanently etched itself deep within. How did each of us arrive at this place when, as individuals, we live apart, live completely differently lives and, in general, live unique lives?

There many people in the world who do not know the joy of life, and never will, as they  struggle daily with themselves fighting anger, frustration, sadness, illness and fatigue. As you, I know friends like this. At times I want to help others see there is a different way to live. They too can feel the goodness and the beauty within and without. They can learn their suffering is really an illusion that does not belong to them. Everyone can learn to ride above the illusion rather than trudge in the density of it. As they continue to battle their own existence, they are their own enemy.

Each of has our own journey. To experience pain and suffering,  to experience love and joy, and  to grow spiritually, emotionally and psychologically, is part of this road of life. How do we reach these higher aspects of ourselves? How do we come to learn our life’s purpose and learn our role in one another’s life?  How do we assist one another during our time here on earth without changing our own path, without passing judgment and without infusing what we believe we “know is best”?

Authenticity is being genuine. Genuine to yourself. To be yourself is the greatest gift you can give to yourself and to give to others. When you are real to yourself you allow all that you are meant to be to come forward and guide you. This guiding force leads to a sense of trust that everything will be ok, despite the hardships, the knocks and the failures.This trust leads to a profound feeling of freedom. Freedom from the heaviness that can be felt in the day to day events of the illusion of life.  Your inner light will shine brilliantly, which in turn, will serve as a gate for others to be their authentic self.

I believe, as a soul, prior to coming to earth, we designed a plan of our life to be. Some recognize this plan as “karma”. Returning to this planet to re – live or re – experience what we missed the “last time” we were here. Part of this plan includes other “souls” who signed on to play a part in our journey. Some of these “souls” play roles that are loving and kind, some roles are unkind and mean, some roles are significant and some are meant only to be sign posts to lead us to the next step. Regardless of the specificity and depth of the role, each of these individuals are meant to be a part of life. We, in return, also signed on to play a role in their lives.

We all need one another to fulfill our soul journey. Every one we meet, our lovers, our forever friends, our acquaintances, the grocery store clerk and the bus driver. Every incident we experience, the smiling child at the park, the unhappy old man neighbor and the maintainence person working on the dryer is meant to be. Each of these people, and we in turn,  are here for each other.  We are here to fulfill our journey. We are here to bring us to our higher selves.

To be authentic with others and to be authentic to ourselves, nurtures our life plan.

To be authentic is to be responsible. Responsible to ourselves , responsible to one another and responsible to our learning on this journey of life.

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The Muslim Ban initiated by the U.S.A  woke the world to a reminder that every ONE has the right to live in peace and harmony and to live free from persecution, solely based on religious beliefs.  As individuals we can ease this crisis, and ensure peace and harmony for all, is a reality.

Cat’s Eye Photography
Cathleen Mewis

I arrived at my trailer in Washington State  yesterday afternoon. Driving through the gate is like breathing in deeply and letting out an audible long sigh. Surrounded by the beauty of decades old trees, contrasted by the remaining snow and ice on the roadsides, adds to the inner peace I instantly feel upon crossing the imaginary threshold. Despite the cold, I lower my window to allow the crisp, green smells to saturate my essence. It brings me to stillness and to oneness with life. I am grateful for all the goodness of life.

The smell of newness still emanates from my two year old trailer. Somehow, in a weird way, this is pleasing. Minimal warmth hangs in the air that the coil heater is pushing out. This trusty heater has been with me since buying this lot and the old trailer that once sat here. The original trailer had a non functioning furnace, so the coil was always on duty. I follow my usual routine of running the furnace on entry and then began the unloading of a few food items, clothes and this old, semi – reliable laptop. After unpacking, I walk the perimeter of my lot, like an old patrol dog, to ensure all is well.

Before leaving for my recreation site, I plan and visualize my experience. There are usually one or two tasks that require attention. I need to contact a furnace service person to unravel the mystery of why my furnace will only cycle twice and then needs to be reset. My pleasure, always a priority, is swimming in the heated pool, surrounded by the magic of the mist, the trees and the stars, followed up with a steamy hot tub and shower. For those of you who know my story of the red bathing cap, I now own a black one. For those that do not know the story and want some background, it is my first blog entry , dated 2016/04/19, titled FEAR. The inches thick icy roads indicates its not appropriate to run. My “sensible” self reminds me that falling on ice would prevent future running for some time. On the floor, next to the trailer door, my Hokas wait patiently for another day to express themselves.

I am up very early today. The Australin Open is on TV. This wasn’t planned, for me to watch the match, but the Williams Sisters are making history again. As i watched the match I also watched for daylight. Once it was light out enough, I swept the deck and raked the lot of fallen acorns , twigs and boughs. The simplicity of life was playing out so smoothly.

Hot green tea provided the warmth I required, after my outdoor activity, and to relax my body to meditate. For nearly an hour, I was somewhere between here and there, suspended in a bath of bliss. Taking my time to return to the now, I had resurfaced a few times , only to be pulled back to the non linear space.  When I finally grounded in the present, I felt complete inner peace, I felt  oneness with everything around me and I felt the warmth of light anchored within. Still in a dream state, I walked into the living area and unconsciously, turned on the TV as I prepared to get on with my day. Suddenly, I felt a cold chill of fear ran through my inner core. I heard myself say Oh My God. I had only felt this depth of fear and shock one other time in my life. It happened on my way to work on the morning of 9/11 when over the radio it was announced the air space over North America was closed to all commercial traffic.

What did I hear that could possibly equal the depth of this reaction? “This is white land” and “America is the ‘greatest’ country in the world”. A history making moment.

These words were uttered from a Syrian refugee, potentially a Muslim, who had just been released from a 17 hour detention at JFK in New York City. According to the news source, he did hold a visa, granted to him prior to the “executive order” to stop all Muslims from entering the U.S.A.  I wondered if he said these words from fear of further detainment or did he really believe what he said.

My visceral response to seeing and hearing this on the news left my shattered heart aching. How could this be? The contrast between my beautiful inner world and the darkness of the outer world left me in confusion. Everyone deserves inner peace, inner beauty and as much light and love that one can hold.

Live in

peace and compassion, share love and light, and spread goodness to all of your inner circle and to everyone you meet each and every day. When each of us lives this way within in our own circles and beyond, the reach of the concentric waves grows and becomes far reaching and endless. The waves becomes ONE. A history making moment.

Live in the light. Spread peace.Share this article


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Beauty and the Beast. I have never seen or read this well known story. There are many variations of this tale, and here I add my own interpretation.

These thoughts were written one week post the US Presidential Election.

What is the beast? What is the beauty?

The beast lies low, hiding and waiting for the opportunity to feed itself. Initially, the beast is sometimes difficult to recognize, but always, it eventually shows itself as it becomes more and more hungry. How is the beast recognized? It slowly shows itself through private thoughts and covert behavior. As it becomes braver and more confident, the beast becomes more obvious and invites others to join the beast. You might feel the beast before you hear it and you might see the beast before you experience it. It feels like a darkness sitting in the corner. It sounds like anger, with words of discrimination and hatred toward those who are perceived as less than the beast. The feel of the beast is fear. The beast invites those that are weak, frightened and lost, to join him as he offers false power and control.

Beauty shines openly, inviting all to come forward.

It has been one week since the USA presidential election. The headlines and news clips has shown blatant behavior of discrimination, physical threats and threats of death towards those who are not in agreement with the president elect. There is fear, anger and disbelief about the outcome of the election. The hateful and divisive language the president elect used to run his campaign, has opened a gate of acceptance to disrespectful behavior towards minorities, immigrants, non heterosexuals, women and anyone else deemed to be weak and a threat due to their perspectives. Copying their parents and older siblings, this behavior is displayed by children towards other children. This behavior is displayed by youth who feel powerless in their adolescent years and displayed by adults who express their fear of their place in a society where color, gender, sexuality, money and class determines who wins.

The beast is hungry and needs to feed itself to survive.

In times of challenge and confusion, it easy to forget about the beauty all around us and how we as individuals and as a collective can shine light on the beauty. Demonstrating love, assisting others in need, using kind words and showing acceptance of others,  nurtures the growth of the beauty. Beauty is all around. In the smiles of passersby, the sun warming your face, the colors of the fallen leaves, the birds’ songs and the blue of the sky. Beauty is laughter, beauty is gentle, beauty is purity of heart and beauty is inner light.

The beauty is easy to keep. Demonstrating compassion and showing love is natural. Beauty is present with our first breath.  Beauty always surpasses the beast.

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Aging and Intelligence. Is aging just a number and a concept?  

I keep telling myself I am perfectly ageless. I don’t feel like I am aging. My brain doesn’t feel like it is getting older and when I look at others my age I don’t see my self looking as old as them. Is the mirror image truthful or am I seeing what I want to see?  How does this happen?

I recall recently being asked how old I was. Deep within my body, I felt a tiny jolt. My mind quickly played mini vignettes of what it means to be older. I saw aging as a change of body shape, less visibility in society and aloneness. I saw myself as an observer. An observer of others and observer of activities all around. I saw all this in a flash and felt a sense of shock and surprise. How did I reach this age and not really notice I was getting physically older? Is this what happens? You skip along, enjoying everyone and everything around, soaking up the goodness of life and then bam! someone or something shakes you into the now moment.  Is this the norm? Do other agers feel every bump and knock, and a continuous growing weight of fatigue? Are they aware of the slow, ongoing decline and feel the dread about the passing of time? Do they focus on what was and what will probably never be again?

The only time I actually acknowledge time and my age is when I note the changes in my body. Where did that little skin tag come from? When did those toned arms get traded in for semi toned arms? My legs look less muscular and have the shy company of cellulite. (There I said it!) What are the options when my lower hairs do not match my colored head hairs? Do I remove those nasty buggers or ensure all intimacy remains in the dark?

My facial skin is smooth, soft and maybe a bit saggy. But the gradual change goes unnoticed till I see a glimpse of myself in a store window. I catch myself gently rubbing my finger tips over my chin, feeling for little pokers. I feel them but when I look for them in the magnifying mirror they retract in a game of hide and seek.

Why does everyone seem older than me? Others seem little softer, a little more gray, a little more tired and a lot more intolerant of others’ behaviors. Covering the ugly, festering sore known as “getting old”, I see stubborn and crusty behavior.

My grandmothers seemed so old when I was young. Were they old?  My mother seemed old when I was younger. Today it is not so easy to grow old. The pressures of advertising shows aging is less than attractive. The numerous miracle lotions and potions to keep youthful looking and to prevent the crustiness, supports the belief aging has no place in our society.

The other side of the aging story is how 60 is the new 45  (my fantasy). The focus not so much on maintaining youth but rather maintaining a youthful attitude and presence. Staying open to the continuous changes in the world. Accepting what is, even if not fully understanding what it is. Can you see your mothers and grandmothers having open discussions about the sexual continuum? There was a time, and not that far in the past (or so it seems) when homosexuality was a big taboo. Now there is bi sexuality, transsexuality, transgender and gender re assignment. These are exciting times. Individuals are safer than ever to express themselves for who they are. I recall when as a young teen, wanting pierced ears and my father having a fit about holes in my ears! Of course being the rebel I thought I was, I flipped him the imaginary bird. Look around you. There are holes in ears, noses, eyebrows and lips and these are only the visible piercings.  Clothes were pretty basic, as were hair styles. Now it doesn’t matter what you wear,  how you wear it or who wears it. Can you imagine Men in Skirts cleaning your windows in your mother’s time. Better yet, can you imagine your mother even hiring someone to clean your windows! It’s wonderful the world is shifting forward with the real issues of today; Kindness, caring, love and respect, without judgment of one another’s way of being and recognizing our similarities rather than perceived differences.

Aging is an honor. An honor given to those who see the future as an opportunity to keep learning, to demonstrate unconditional caring and to show leadership towards a peaceful planet where we are ONE.

As my body changes, so does my mind. Aging is not only a physical transformation, but more importantly, aging is an intellectual transformation.Share this article


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The days’ heat still rises from the cement sidewalk as the sun slowly paints the sky in the west with an ever changing palate. Pinks, purples and blues spread above the horizon.  Today the colors seem more vibrant, as if in high definition. How is it I have never seen the sunset with the same acuteness? The same sharpness of each color? My shoes move evenly, with little sound, as the soles and sidewalk meet comfortably, like old friends, no words necessary. The nearly still air passes over my forearms sticking out from my shirt, a gentle touch piquing my sense of the movement. I am impressed by the coordination of my body parts. Left arm swinging forward in time with my right leg moving forward. Then my right arm moving forward with my left leg. I try to move both my right arm and leg together, feeling awkward by having to focus on a simple task. Clicking, like a distant timer, comes from my right knee. I envision the ligament popping with each step. No pain really, just a bit of noise.

 I turn the corner and see the faded greyish steel door. The sun, after years of blistering heat, has tarnished the door to a matte finish.  The black and red symbols of a tagger reminds me where I am. The desolate and deserted warehouses, empty and discarded like the beers cans and cheap liquor bottles on the paper strewn, cracked sidewalk. This area is always like a hangover on Sundays, dull and dirty, a wasteland.  A silver thick plate holds the large steel handle. From a distance the door is sealed to keep out potential trespassers. The down and out, the lonely, the homeless. A fine dark line can be seen as I approach, a slight opening of the door, a promise kept by the stone lodged inside the jamb.

In resistance, the squeaking door tells its’ guest it is in need of oiling. Not likely to happen. I step through the doorway with my left foot, my right foot on the threshold, the rise of the plate along the floor makes its’ presence known by the rub on my instep. I kick the stone into the building. The darkness beckons me as I wait for my eyes to adjust. Cool air carries a steely, musty, chemical smell to my nose. As I inhale, I can taste the smell and feel the dryness of the air. 

Closing out the fading light behind me, I control the closing of the door, holding it until I hear the click, sealing out any intruders. Slowly my eyes adjust. I look around at the familiar cavernous environment. The stillness and quiet contrasts with the clamour of loud voices, machinery humming and motors running during working hours. In the dark, the height and length of the storage panels, are creature like, opening its’ jaws to snap down on me, crushing me into pulp. The overhanging lights dangle from open rafters, church bells waiting to be peeled.

This building isn’t the tallest in this town, standing only ten floors high. I know it well. Coming here for more than seven years, five days a week. My comfort and sense of intimacy of my surroundings, made this an easy choice. Deeper I go into the cavern, feeling the spaciousness. I can reach out in any direction and my arm passes through the thick nothingness that is never ending. How does something so palpable be nothing? Disappearing into the void of the darkness, I am caressed and held gently. I move slowly forward, sure – footed, without caution. The stairwell is at the back wall, next to the elevator. Running the ten floors of stairs was common for me as I delivered the needed parts and materials. It was often faster than the elevator. With the saved time I could smoke a cigarette, on the loading dock that is used for storing machine parts, without being missed. Touching my left chest pocket of my jean jacket, I feel the roundness of my red lighter and the hard edges of my cigarette package. Quitting smoking was something I thought of often, however when I did this, it took away the pleasure of the feel of the hot grey smoke curling its’ way past my throat into the craving of my lungs.  So I stopped trying to quit. Why not enjoy the experience until the experience no longer existed?

The door to the stairwell is metal. Its’ round knob was smooth and cool to touch. It fits into my hand like it was molded just for my use exclusively. Inhaling a deep slow breath and exhaling as slowly, I took my first steps to the top. I am not exactly sure when I made this decision, to climb  the ten floors of stairs. Like a shadow always close, the need following me, nagging me. The steps are old, worn down slightly on the edges and the tread a bit small. not meeting the building codes of today. The balls of my feet carry most of my weight, my calves stretching, assisting in the push off. The tightening of my calves extend to my thighs and hamstrings, an orchestra in synergy, each playing a significant piece that make the whole of the action. Diffused light from the exit signs at each level going up is surreal. I had many nights dreaming of this light, the quiet, the aloneness without fear. Talking to me in whispers like a lover. Waking in sweat drenched sheets, I would sit at my bedside, surprised I was in a dream. This was always followed by half a cigarette. The ember extending in intensity as I inhaled deeply. The square lettering of the number eight informs me I was closer. I daydream of a beautiful wife, lovely children and a playful dog. It wasn’t really far out of reach. I had to make an effort to socialize, to make friends. This was never easy for me. Somehow I was the one left out, left behind, teased. Standing outside of life became my friend.

The door by my side; reliable, without waver. Painting the letters was one of my many responsibilities here. Meticulously, the letter stencil was taped to the wall, ensuring it was level. Then I sprayed the black paint. Working alone kept me free from demands that would interrupt my work. Most didn’t know it was I who changed the light bulbs, painted, and other seemingly insignificant tasks. Like a mother watching me, I proudly exhibited my best work at all times. It feels good to do something well. Floor ten came into view. The red exit light glowing like a beacon. I breathe deeply, my lungs expanded to a tight balloon, as I stand before the door to the rooftop. Exhaling slowly to a count of four, I insert the key into the metal lock and walk through to the roof top. The door slams behind me. The air that blows my hair off my forehead is cooler than the air on the street. Whirls of wind dance around my body, embracing me then letting go. I hear the crumple of the paper in the right pocket of my jacket. I touch the round metal button to ensure it is closed. The loose gravel crunches beneath my feet as the little stones roll with each step as I move towards the four foot wall. The view is familiar. Cleaning the roof vent screens in the wind, rain, snow and searing heat, was also one of my jobs. The view offers the twisting of the fast moving river, maneuvering around sandbars and large branches from the hemlock trees that lined the river walkway. Looking down are the ant – like tiny people walking, running and biking. The cars are moving in timely coordination to one another.  A typical Sunday. Lazily busy. The noise from below is a whisper of sound, barely strong enough to reach me, caught in the dancing air currents, ensuring me this isn’t a dream from which I would awake. I step up on the wall and have never felt so alive, as I step off the wall.



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Vibrations of excitement during the Christmas season can be felt in the air. For many it is less than exciting, instead filled with anxiety, fear and dread. The thought of the family coming together under the pretense of happy brings memories of Christmas pasts. The underlying tension, the double edged comments and feelings of guilt can lead to over consumption of alcohol, drugs and food. You tell yourself that this year will be different. You will be different this year. All year you have felt happy, carefree and at peace. The many people in your life are generous, loving and caring, reciprocating your own way of being. You are determined to maintain these feelings that are a part of you.

The question becomes how to maintain these feelings and remain positive? Most of us have experienced entering a room where the tension is thick as a rope. Oh oh. What have I come into? Do you let your sense of self be absorbed by the negativity or do you maintain your own high loving vibration, either by leaving or by elevating others from their low vibration to your higher vibration?

Energy vibrations  are very real. Lo w vibrations are slow, dense and heavy. They are often accompanied by judging oneself, disliking oneself and not forgiving oneself without recognizing this way of being. When these behaviors are present, those around the low vibration will also be judged, disliked and unforgiven, perpetuating this lower frequency. High vibrations are fast and extremely light. To keep your frequency high, do not judge others for their behaviors, but rather accept each individual for who they are. Remain open to the potential positives of others and forgive each behavior. I am not suggesting you allow yourself to be used or mistreated, but rather step back from the situation. Become the observer of others, of your environment and of yourself. Observing allows you to maintain your own high frequency. Observing maintains your sense of inner power and you can see with greater clarity all the drama around you, without being a part of the drama. Observing others prevents their energy and their lower vibrations from entering your energy bodies. When others see you are not reacting to or interacting with negative, lower frequencies, their behavior changes. Often they will automatically raise to a higher vibration by becoming more open and kind, and if not, they will, at the least, stop their lower frequency behaviors, recognizing you will not be affected by their behavior.

Sounds easy right? How do you observe others while still maintaining a connection? Become aware of your own presence. Become aware of your body in your surroundings and become aware of others in relation to both. You might think by being the observer you are detached and non feeling. The opposite is true. By separating yourself from the drama, you are able to see the tress within the forest.  When you are not pulled into the lower vibrations, you can observe with more empathy, kindness, love, generosity and forgiveness, than if you are of the drama. Observing rather than becoming part of the drama changes the usual patterns and energies in the room.

Remember who you are, what you are and how you are.

Good, Good, Good Vibrations.



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The controversy of vaccinations and the safety of it’s use continues to grow. The Center forneedle Disease Control (CDC), the medical community and many parents strongly support vaccinating children and those with compromised immunities such as the elderly.

As a young eager student of nursing I believed what I was taught about vaccines and “flu shots”. Over the years I became more discerning about the information presented to me. A few years ago, at a committee meeting at the university where I taught, we were informed of the health region’s policy that all health care providers are to have the flu vaccine or they would not be permitted on the units of hospitals, provide home care or provide services in the health units. I was very disturbed by this assumption that everyone would mindlessly comply under the threat of being able to work or not work. I openly stated I would not comply by being inoculated by an attenuated virus combined with ingrediants that are toxic and carcinogenic. The inaudible gasp from my colleagues was palpable along with comments such as “you have to” and “you have no choice”. Quietly I replied I did have a choice and I would  not  be getting the “flu shot”. The  associate dean supported my statement that I did not have to comply.  The health authority insisted non vaccinated persons would have to wear a facial mask to reduce the possibility of infecting the patients. I agreed to wearing a facial mask since it protected me from the flu” and other air borne  droplets. My dilemma was easily resolved .As an educated health care professional I understood my rights and I was aware of the ingrediants in the vaccinations. Parents of young children and families caring for the elderly or caring for an immunocompromised family member are faced with deciding if vaccinations are safe or not for their loved ones.

In many states of the USA, vaccinations are compulsary for children entering the school system. Fortunately, most states offer the parents the right to not vaccinate based on religious, medical or philosophical reasons.

There are reports of children becoming autistic following vaccinations. Mostly these are dismissed by the “professionals” as not a consequence of the inocculations the children received, but the “professionals” cannot explain the behavioral changes in their children. Parents know their children and are aware of any changes; irritability, lethargy, muscle weakness and behavior associated with autistic spectrum disorder (ASD) have been reported.

naturalviews.com, 2013, reported concessions by government agencies the connection between autism and vaccinations.

”  “conceded, albeit quietly, the combination measles, mumps, rubella (MMR) does, indeed, cause autism.” In a recently published ruling, part of which was censored from public view, a young boy was awarded thousands of dollars after it was determined the MMR vaccine led to a confirmed diagnosis of autism spectrum disorder.”

” “suffered from a Table injury under the Vaccine Act- namely on encephalitis” admitted the US Dept. of Health and Human Services,  concession documents by the government remains under seal.”

“a young girl from Houston Texas also awarded massive compensation for injuries resulting from MMR vaccine. She experienced a severe reaction  after receiving MMR vaccine but also DTap (diphtheria, tetanus and pertussis), HiB and Prevnar Vaccines. The government conceded that these vaccines led to (the girl’s) autism.”

stopmandatoryvaccinations.com is a large and growing website that offers information about and discussion on the need for vaccines and the safety and efficacy of immunizations. There is a growing number of people who question this practice. The media advertises vaccinations, which is controlled by the billions of dollars from the pharmaceutical companies. Politicians, who make policies and downplay the potential for the adverse effects of vaccines, are fed by their financial contributors, who are, in part the pharmaceutical companies. It is well known pharmaceutical companies pay the labs for testing of their drugs and contribute large sums of money for the building and maintenance of high tech laboratories. Money builds lies and makes more money for those who contribute to the belief of the need for more and more  vaccines. There is growing, Nurses’ and Doctors’ groups, that are rejecting the need for immunizations. The myth that the diseases, for which we are immunized, are deadly and without the vaccines we will have epidemics of these diseases with untold number of deaths. The truth is by the 1950s, most of these diseases like polio, TB, diphtheria, whooping cough, scarlet fever, small pox, mumps and chicken pox were mild diseases that at most caused discomfort in healthy children and adults. By the 1940s, these diseases were rarely deadly. There had been a decrease of 90 to 99% for mortality before the vaccine programs had begun. The CDC has numerous graphs, that are available to the public, showing the rates of infectious diseases of all types.

I am not an expert in public health, communicable dieases or vaccinations. I am an educated individual with decades of a nursing/education background. I am also aware of the pharmaceutical, medical, research, political, and big bank connections. Yes, much of my information comes from the internet and  from grass root groups who are organizing for the truth. Do not take my views and opinions as truth. Do your own research and come to your own conclusions.





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red-christmas-tree-scene-background-ornament-hanging-lighting-bokeh-56717517  Merry Christmas

The Christmas countdown has begun, for those that like to count. Christmas brings thoughts of family, happiness, food, and of course brightly wrapped stuff. It also brings in – your – face advertising. Promoting everything from computers and technical gadgets to the must – have toys that are cleverly brought out in limited lots, to the newest, fastest and sexiest cars. The pressure to buy the right gift, to bake and to cook and to attend all party invites builds. If all this pressure isn’t enough for you, there is also politics and religion, that is brought to the forefront.

Christmas is the Christian celebration of the birth of Christ and the  use of the customary greeting, “Merry Christmas”, is common. These two words are simple but have the power to ignite intense political and religious feelings, including feeling offended by this greeting. How do these two words offend anyone? If you don’t follow this belief, you pass and move on. I am not offended by other religious celebrations such as Jews celebrating Hannukka,  Buddhists celebrating Bhodi Day, Atheists celebrating Winter Solstice and Muslims celebrate the Hajj. I know there are many more beliefs and celebrations but these few examples support my assertion.

In Canada, we are asked/encouraged, to be supposedly politically correct, to not offend others by refraining from using  “Merry Christmas” and instead to make this most important Christian celebration salutation into a generic greeting, such as Happy Holiday and Seasons Greetings. This lessens the significance of the celebration and invites others to lessen the significance too. I am not offended by others beliefs and their special celebrations so why would non Christians feel offended by Christmas. I have to believe this is done to show acceptance of others but really, by yielding to the practice of not saying Merry Christmas, it only amplifies the differences. True acceptance of one another is done by recognizing and respecting each other and each other’s beliefs and practices, such as the significance of celebratory rituals like Christmas.

Merry Christmas Everyone.


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folds of memories

pleated curtains

each panel a mark in time

your presence wrapped in pale existence

cradled in stillness

the sounds outside the window

ignite the fuel of time

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