Connections | Rest In Power

This day, September Eleventh, is one that many take to remember sadness and loss and death and destruction. But there were also, some pretty creative people born on this day too… Mickey Hart, Victor Wooten, Harry Connick Jr, Moby, Kristy McNichol, Lola Falana, Tommy Shaw, Brian DePalma… It is also the day we lost Peter Tosh…

Rest In Power. Image from the Peter Tosh Facebook Page

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Milestones; The big 16

I ran into a friend in the store yesterday. Her family goes back in my life as far as I can recall. She asked me how my son was doing and I told her.

He is in a great school, he has amazing friends, he is making music and he is absolutely a lovely human being. (well, most of the time, let’s not push it… He is a teenager after all…) She got the biggest smile on her face and she said, “THAT IS INCREDIBLE NEWS!!!”

Because it is! Continue reading

Live in love


One year ago today, Earth Day, my Father Passed.
We can watch others process the loss of a parent, we can try to imagine what it may feel like to lose a parent, but we never really know what it will feel like until it happens.

And when it happens, suddenly, everything that comes with the word “Adult” is yours to be. All of it. Embrace loss, responsibility, embrace loneliness, embrace Mortality, because it is yours now. But the true gift happens when we embrace our fullness. And the fullness of connection too because if you open to it, it can be a beautiful exchange.

They call it death, and we place such heavy energy on it, we fear our own, we cling to others in hopes it will not happen to them. But it does happen to them, and to me and you and her and him… We all do it, so why is it so hard to accept?

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Yesterday morning, I stumbled upon an article about a little girl, homeless in Brooklyn. The writer eloquently engages the reader immediately on a journey, through a year of Dasani’s life. We went with her to school, we got into fights on the block, we listen as rats scurried around the baseboard of the room that she and eight other people lived in, in one of the darkest and forgotten homeless shelters in New York. She was a spunky kid, ready to learn new things and grow out of the ghetto, sometimes calling herself “Ghetto” in order to get through the teasing and taunting about living where she did. I learned that over 22,000 homeless children fill shelters in New York city. I couldn’t put the article down, even though I felt sick to my stomach, even though the feelings I was having were indicating to me that I was indeed engage my own poverty level mentality. Continue reading

Homophobics Why are you so scared?

I often touch on this subject, and I won’t get too deep this morning, because my rants on this one can get lengthy. If you really want my opinion, read the article I wrote a while back. It goes deep enough into why I believe Homophobia is the single root of the dis-ease in our society, locally and globally to make the point.

Of course I could be wrong, but I don’t think I am on this one. Teach an entire gender of a race to hate themselves and others before they even know what or why they are supposed to hate? What have we done to the men in our society? We have made true love, open heart and personal choice so very wrong that hearts harden so fast they know nothing else.

Item is held by John Oxley Library, State Library of Queensland [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

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Transitions | Saying goodbye again

A few days ago, I learned that a beloved friend, and one of the most influential women in my path, on this journey in quest, had fallen ill. I was inspired to write a little bit about her, half hoping that someone at her bedside would read it to her. Of course it was my own ego, wanting to be recognized for loving her, but I believed that it was in hopes that she would know, for even just a moment, that she had touched my life beyond measure. I posted the story on a fundraising website that had been set up for her medical expenses. A funny thing happened… The comment disappeared. Not only my comment, but all of the comments.

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