tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68316468321019339972023-11-16T02:53:19.049-08:00Tinkerbell's Tea Party ~ [Vol. 1]~ The tea party is a spa for the soul. ~roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.comBlogger452125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-65252960000296770382009-06-12T20:21:00.000-07:002009-06-12T20:28:23.928-07:00A Meme<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>What is your current obsession?</b></div>Flowers ~ and taking macro shots of them ~ a la Georgia O'Keefe.<br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>What is your wierdest obsession?</b></div>At one time I used to collect all the hair from my white afghan hound ... I'd instructed his groomer to save all the hair from grooming sessions because one day I planned to have the hair processed/spun into wool and then knitted into some sort of scarf or whatever. <br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>What are you wearing today?</b></div>A ecru-coloured cotton short-sleeved top, yoga-style capri pants, white socks and whte sneakers. My feet are hot. I'm going to take off my socks and shoes. Bare feet, all the way!<br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>What's for dinner?</b></div>A glass of Coca Cola and I dunno what else. I am an eccentric eater, I often take dinner quite late or sometimes not at all.<br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>What would you eat for your last meal?</b></div>Deep-fried brie and cranberry sauce ... those biscuits from Red Lobster with Beef Tenderloin cooked medium and a peppercorn gravy/sauce and horseradish and mashed potatoes with nutmeg and a caesar salad sans croutons ... a shot of sambuca and a piece of warm chocolate cake, drizzled with hot chocolate sauce and two scoops of real vanilla ice cream.<br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>What is the last thing you bought?</b></div>Some cool postcards designed with my own photographs from QOOP.<br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>What are you listening to right now?</b></div>The song of starlings, echoes from the upstairs neighbour's no-so-tasteful music choices, the swoosh of the tower fan in the bedroom, the creak of the ceiling as the upstairs neighbours walk around. My cat playing with her bell toy.<br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>If you could have a house totally paid for, fully furnished, anywhere in the world, where would you like it to be?</b></div>In Italy, in some Tuscan village. <br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>If you could go anywhere in the world for the next hour, where would you go?</b></div>To the top of the Rock of Gibraltar to see the Barbery Apes. <br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>What language do you want to learn?</b></div>The language of the human heart and soul.<br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>What's your favorite quote (for now)?</b></div>"On your bike." <br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>What is your favourite colour?</b></div>Cotton Candy, Strawberry Milkshare, Bubblegum PINK! <br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>What is your favourite piece of clothing in your own wardrobe? </b></div>Do my comfy old <a href="http://www.redversmoccasins.com/images/gallery/623-3.jpg">rabbit-fur lined mocassin slippers</a> count? Cos that's what my favourite is. <br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>What is your dream job?</b></div>1. Head Designer of my own Graphic Design Firm; 2. Self-sustaining independent Photographer, (Web) Designer; 3. A published fiction author.<br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>What your favourite tree?</b></div>Japanese Cherry Tree ~ any variety ... particularly the <i>Kanzan</i> or <i>Pink Perfection</i>. <br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>What are you going to do after this?</b></div>Have a steaming hot shower. <br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>What inspires you?</b></div>Nature ~ particularly flowers and birds; Georgia O'Keefe; awesome photography; pink and purple sunsets; a certain Pilot. <br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>What are your favourite books?</b></div>All time favourites ~ as a child it was a particular Cinderella book with the most beautiful art work in it; as an adult it's<i> A Time Traveller's Wife</i>. <br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>What are you currently reading?</b></div><i>The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. </i><br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>Go to your bookshelf, take down the first book with a red spine you see, turn to page 26 and type out the first sentence:</b></div>Enormously irritating to me and my torturers of course, but, you know, credit where credit's due and all that. <br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>What delighted you the most today?</b></div>Receiving <i>meatspace</i> feedback from my photo notecards. <br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>By what criteria do you judge a person?</b></div>1. Manners; 2. Honesty ~ ie do they keep their word; 3. Sense of timing ~ ie are they always late (grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr ~ HATE that!).<br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b> Are you artistic or crafty?</b></div> Yes and yes. <br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>My added question: do you have an innie or an outtie (belly button)?</b></div><br />
Innie.<br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The rules: Respond and rework: answer the questions on your blog, replace one question with a question of your own. Tag eight other people. And of course, as all tags go, you may choose to ignore this request. Play if you like.</div><br />
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<center><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img111.imageshack.us/img111/8021/42875328.gif" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-424888090845368892009-06-09T11:29:00.000-07:002013-07-02T20:12:37.737-07:00The Beauty of Broken Things<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheQrtUuoSeZPTXAA4mbNtylnq9iWGg_ogoKR8xCqhXosG6Vj5UgAhPTnshc5fukyX-mVlFMWWmdDNWQ-5BDuEHVLSYqGB-8-x3tv51trfVI_HgzlfJpSoSNwbSo97QHjZWe055hiZtxDBN/s1600-h/beauty-of-broken-things-6-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="19" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheQrtUuoSeZPTXAA4mbNtylnq9iWGg_ogoKR8xCqhXosG6Vj5UgAhPTnshc5fukyX-mVlFMWWmdDNWQ-5BDuEHVLSYqGB-8-x3tv51trfVI_HgzlfJpSoSNwbSo97QHjZWe055hiZtxDBN/s320/beauty-of-broken-things-6-2.jpg" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Broken lines, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">couched in jagged curves;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">a jetstream of white light,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">a splash of grey shadow ~ </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">all reflections of </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">my monotonous heart.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She thirsts for you, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">feels parched in your absence.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Missing the fluid velvet</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">of your touch,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">of your taste ~</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">reflecting, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">upon the beauty of broken things.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo Credit: DeviantArt</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Poetry: Roxanne Galpin</span></div><br />
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<a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img111.imageshack.us/img111/8021/42875328.gif" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-55994667001204297562009-06-07T23:38:00.000-07:002015-11-10T01:08:02.337-08:00The Matrix, Thomas Merton, and Cosmic ChristI stumbled upon that movie <i>The Matrix</i>, while channel surfing after my three-hour night's sleep. I've seen it several times of course, but it's one of the few films I can watch again and again. Each time I do see it, I sense yet another facet of the incredible spiritual and philosophical metaphor of the story. Essentially the film depicts the planet earth in the late 22nd century, where Holocaust has come to describe the enslavement of humans by machines, who have invaded Earth to harvest human beings as energy sources. The machines keep humans, naked and sleeping, in gel-filled pods, which connects to them through tubes and hoses. <br />
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The vast majority of humans, however, remain oblivious to the ugly truth, living instead within a virtual simulation of the late 20th century which the machines have created to oppress the people and keep them unaware. A few humans have become 'unplugged' and work toward liberating their race. They call themselves Zionists, and they await the prophesied coming of a chosen one ~ a man who can move through and transcend the matrix. Neo has always sensed something strange about the world he sees. He seeks to know the mysterious thing called the matrix. He finds out. He reacts with incredulity and disbelief when told he <i>is</i> the chosen one. <br />
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As I watched Neo's very traumatic awakening into the ugliness of the true world from the false reality of the matrix, and deliverance from his pod to the Zionist hovercraft, I could not help thinking of the similarity to birth and death, as we know it. I pondered birth and death (both of which I have witnessed, by the way) and then, suddenly these seemed ~ on a cosmic plane ~ like the same transformation of a Self. You may disagree, because of your perception of birth as a gain, and death as a loss.<br />
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But, I'm not thinking of from the crude material perspective. I'm considering it from the cosmic, spiritual perspective. Ponder, for a moment. Physical birth ~ arriving into this worldly existence by passing through tiny a visceral canal. And then death ~ I imagine it as travelling from this worldly existence by passing through a spiritual or cosmic canal. This only occurred to me when watching the visual of Neo's awakening. Did Neo's awakening mean his birth, or his death? Both, I believe. <br />
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At a later point in the film, Trinity (one of the Zionists) says to Neo, “the Matrix cannot tell you who you are.” Aha! That's a differentiation to make, isn't it? Do we feel satisfied sufficiently with the fact of our material existence? Don't we also need meaning to illuminate the painting of our existence? I pondered this question two years ago, in a post I wrote about <i>The Matrix</i>. However, just today, during this recent viewing, something resonated within me. Something that I felt when I read the following, which I received via email in today's daily meditation, written by Richard Rohr.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgkSUStDMV5w4SByz8r-nh4Fj9iv3XOlE0-bbDqMsGHC7UkpqxpFpQkhx-O1uu2789bjRb3izZ3J6INhFt9FHxmm0YVx1M3HMk_Pza42gfoI6c6sdge-Q7s0wi4o4zVISzIzvHMGd8HWuq/s1600-h/DSC02973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgkSUStDMV5w4SByz8r-nh4Fj9iv3XOlE0-bbDqMsGHC7UkpqxpFpQkhx-O1uu2789bjRb3izZ3J6INhFt9FHxmm0YVx1M3HMk_Pza42gfoI6c6sdge-Q7s0wi4o4zVISzIzvHMGd8HWuq/s320/DSC02973.JPG" /></a></div>
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<i>The historical figure, Jesus of Nazareth, moved beyond any confinement in space and time and became Light Itself, which we now know from astrophysics is omnipresent in the universe and its speed is the ultimate measure of all things. ... One could even say that in Christ, God and Light have become the same. And nobody on this earth can control the light. It goes where it goes— instantaneously. </i></blockquote>
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So, the Matrix, being the contrived, material world, cannot tell us 'who we are.' Then, perhaps we find out through the light of God? Does the flat, obscure and meaningless painting of our existence become transformed through Christ? Yes, because our true meaning of Self lies in the fact that God created each of us, for a purpose. In his book, <i>New Seeds of Contemplation</i>, Thomas Merton writes that faith provides a vehicle through which we can fully possess God, who fills us with His infinite Light. "God Himself becomes the Light of the darkened soul ... And at this inexplicable moment the deepest night becomes day ..." Merton also writes, "I must learn to 'leave myself' in order to find myself by yielding to the love of God." Death and birth point to the same transformative process, don't they?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGQb0T3DPLICv6TF1R3lHfdCPMZwP3osI_KqAjfrmOVTOy3iHA4E64a7q28KDc9733_SjOdGxxReFxen1Hb7fK8wAFIjbP-nR2uF5q6fUp9N5_mgnaKExC5qo0ohLg77ERNX3CWm67rjRD/s1600-h/DSC02999.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGQb0T3DPLICv6TF1R3lHfdCPMZwP3osI_KqAjfrmOVTOy3iHA4E64a7q28KDc9733_SjOdGxxReFxen1Hb7fK8wAFIjbP-nR2uF5q6fUp9N5_mgnaKExC5qo0ohLg77ERNX3CWm67rjRD/s320/DSC02999.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">[Photos taken by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aneccentricmagnolia/">me</a>, May 2009</span>]</div>
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roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-34773731313187518712009-05-26T00:02:00.000-07:002009-05-26T00:30:07.594-07:00A Prayer For Us All<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3tCEgu0pvYR74eiOzCRpZTY1uqvaG8kZanfZOOgtSsEU77S1nHgcxRYWSAiOnF-ug7OHSto9T-1BLekVlhICDFgjyS_WEgJjkTitwh09VoiAWgIgzc4e1G4d6QYqME3GRB4ShsK6pwcOZ/s1600-h/dtes-prayer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3tCEgu0pvYR74eiOzCRpZTY1uqvaG8kZanfZOOgtSsEU77S1nHgcxRYWSAiOnF-ug7OHSto9T-1BLekVlhICDFgjyS_WEgJjkTitwh09VoiAWgIgzc4e1G4d6QYqME3GRB4ShsK6pwcOZ/s320/dtes-prayer.jpg" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I used a picture taken by a dear friend of mine [who wishes to receive credit only as public domain] as the inspiration for this piece. This photo ~taken in Vancouver's Downtown East Side ~ really depicts a piece of graffiti with an wonderful sentiment. <i>Keep us safe and sound</i>. Made by me using GIMP, brushes courtesy of <a href="http://www.obsidiandawn.com/">Obsidian Dawn</a>. Click the image for full-size view.</div><br />
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<center><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img111.imageshack.us/img111/8021/42875328.gif" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-28897061447329420792009-05-24T00:44:00.000-07:002009-05-24T02:07:01.294-07:00New Moon in May<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf14bEolZtTLiX4VHWJGMVOxLX6mGQ8g8l8RQZ0FPiLxhy_hGLeEfPMbodrV_HicleCYA0pXwWjlyKWNb8u5EQc1U4LwveLYLKLPG7Q6WKR8BxhXnrM49d5GspEGViD9a1sFb4asm8yTVf/s1600-h/gemini-eye-by-ftourini.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf14bEolZtTLiX4VHWJGMVOxLX6mGQ8g8l8RQZ0FPiLxhy_hGLeEfPMbodrV_HicleCYA0pXwWjlyKWNb8u5EQc1U4LwveLYLKLPG7Q6WKR8BxhXnrM49d5GspEGViD9a1sFb4asm8yTVf/s320/gemini-eye-by-ftourini.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Image by ftourini [deviantART] </span></div><br />
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This month's new moon encourages us to transcend the fog of information, and its inherent conflicts, and to rise above the crumbling structures of present-day reality. As the unilluminated side of the moon faces earth, we find that we can derive different meanings from the stories occuring around us, depending on the lense through which we look. It's a good time to change our minds, to increase our mental flexibility, to liberate ourselves from our oppressive monkey minds.<i> Stop thinking and just be!</i><br />
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If we focus on balance, on synchronicity, and on the human element we can reduce or eliminate our anxiety about not knowing what will happen next. This month, focus on rising above the minutia of daily material existence, toward the person, toward dignity, toward compassion. Free yourself from <i>stuff-ism</i>, from sinking into the small stuff, and/or from judgement: by giving, by sharing, by understanding ~ through gratitude and humility. <br />
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<center><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img111.imageshack.us/img111/8021/42875328.gif" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-70289588877636734402009-05-21T18:06:00.000-07:002009-05-22T00:21:44.069-07:00Fears ~ What are they?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhluoe1qk-CBk7yV3f3ZNdykomHvC_LjWLVkP_WA6mXhGW55w2sQzbksZXEXCob_ln5F6_15gZhyCbg3CXl5pGIxpeirxoZP6Vvac4YLfmsJJuD6GeBXR_m8_9MuVa5ZW4H7JOCirmyR4wL/s1600-h/door-knocker-br-fr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhluoe1qk-CBk7yV3f3ZNdykomHvC_LjWLVkP_WA6mXhGW55w2sQzbksZXEXCob_ln5F6_15gZhyCbg3CXl5pGIxpeirxoZP6Vvac4YLfmsJJuD6GeBXR_m8_9MuVa5ZW4H7JOCirmyR4wL/s320/door-knocker-br-fr.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo taken by me in SW England, 2008</span></div><blockquote><span style="color: #990000; font-size: large;">F</span>alse<br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-size: large;">E</span>xpectations<br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-size: large;">A</span>ppear<br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-size: large;">R</span>eal</blockquote><ul><li>The underlying foundations of a weak self-image and self-concept ~ they keep us from fully asserting ourselves, and hinder our quest of self-actualization.</li>
<li>Inhibitors, emotional blocks, unconscious messages, uncovered elements of our psychological make up ~ they result in our resistance, hesitation and/or unwillingness to participate in nurturing and healing activities.</li>
<li>Excuses we hide behind to avoid growth or change</li>
<li>Irrational beliefs</li>
<li>Negative self-scripts we have given ourselves or that were given us about how we will suffer dire consequences if we involve ourselves in certain activities or behaviours.<br />
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</ul>Fears have plagued me, of late. Silly, ridiculous fears which create inertia and stagnation. So much opportunity lies at my feet, I just need to grab hold and plant myself there! But there's that old fear of crossing that bridge which spans the ravine. I have tried to tell myself every excuse why I should refrain from reinstating my RN license ... and return to work part-time in my beloved profession. None of these excuses stands up under scrutiny. I have skill, I have passion and patience. I know that I <i>was</i> a great nurse, and can be that again. <i>You can take the girl out of the nurse, but you can't take the nurse out of the girl.</i> I have heard whispers of the universe telling me to take that leap, swallow the fear, embrace opportunity and growth.<br />
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And, so I will take heed.<br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>"Nothing in life is to be feared. It is only to be understood."</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">~Marie Curie </div><br />
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**Note to Readers ~ On a topic entirely unrelated to this post ... Please take the time to visit my friend <a href="http://maydensvoyage.blogspot.com/2009/05/herstory.html">Mayden's Blog</a> and read her latest post. It's beautiful and divinely written.**<br />
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<center><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img111.imageshack.us/img111/8021/42875328.gif" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-76324160847469358572009-05-20T20:48:00.000-07:002013-07-02T16:53:26.361-07:00Your Assignment by Clarissa Pinkola EstesI assign you to be a beautiful, good, kind, awakened, soulful person, a true work of art as we say, ser humano, a true human being. In a world filled with so much darkness, such a soul shines like gold; can be seen from a far distance; is dramatically different.<br />
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Want to help? Show your deepest most divine self to the world. There is nothing more rare, more strange, more needed. Why would you wait? Not worthy? Oh piffle. Not ready? Okay, so when? Next lifetime? Don't be silly with me about this. Inferiority complex? Okay, let me put it this way to you: you're not good enough to think you're not good enough. And you can<br />
quote me to yourself whenever you have need... Dr. Estes said so.<br />
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Have you forgotten that you made promises to your Beloved before you ever came to earth? The time to fulfill these is truly now. You want to cease feeling helpless, and you want to help the aching world? Serve someone and something. Everyone on earth serves someone and something. This means being your truest self now, fulfilling the promises you made to heaven long ago.<br />
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Anything you do from the soulful self will help lighten the burdens of the world. Anything. You have no idea what the smallest word, the tiniest generosity can cause to be set in motion. Be outrageous in forgiving. Be dramatic in reconciling. Mistakes? Back up and make them as right as you can, then move on. Be off the charts in kindness. In whatever you are called to, strive to be devoted to it in all aspects large and small. Fall short? Try again. Mastery is made in increments, not in leaps. Be brave, be fierce, be visionary. Mend the parts of the world that are "within your reach." To strive to live this way is the most dramatic gift you can ever give to the world.<br />
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Consider yourselves assigned.<br />
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<i style="color: #741b47;">The restless uneasiness in my heart dissipated when I read this passage, which I found while blog surfing. It applies every moment. It's what I need, in order to survive and thrive the monumental changes that loom in my not-too-distance future. </i><br />
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<center><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img111.imageshack.us/img111/8021/42875328.gif" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-57537135179847018682009-05-19T23:47:00.000-07:002009-05-19T23:47:30.297-07:00Wishcasting Wednesday ~ Wishes for my Higher Self<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-0Xf7HncCJso8lcL1FF4rS5CtlzjgaR63EFbwlPOPJsj8WwIfyDrgvNAaQdo2C5KuwGMKqmlTyHAPxe7dQv5S0xNGxRr1ZzzEox8R3V0J1oAqyeHSkVwuvM4UtbGN7MYQdKfV4qYxIGbq/s1600-h/wishcasting04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-0Xf7HncCJso8lcL1FF4rS5CtlzjgaR63EFbwlPOPJsj8WwIfyDrgvNAaQdo2C5KuwGMKqmlTyHAPxe7dQv5S0xNGxRr1ZzzEox8R3V0J1oAqyeHSkVwuvM4UtbGN7MYQdKfV4qYxIGbq/s320/wishcasting04.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #993399;">This week's Wish Prompt ~ What does your highest self wish for?</span></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">My highest self wishes to express itself more fully.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> It wishes to follow the light, and transcend my ego. </div><div style="text-align: center;">It wishes to continue capturing and sharing </div><div style="text-align: center;">the joy and beauty of the world around me. </div><div style="text-align: center;">It wishes to completely embrace forgiveness and tolerance. </div><div style="text-align: center;">It wishes to embrace patience more fully. </div><div style="text-align: center;">My higher self wishes to share with others knowledge and compassion, </div><div style="text-align: center;">empowerment and healing.</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk9sdKSA-_6kfyKf9CEGCJk4OwbR5ZARQH0oi_wU1f9c9je7BmmhWGda1P0QonqMqFymD31-hS6gI_3Suv_rzHUeoTxgJQuFtOUa8VwYhqHCunqbeGpUb5GuYbDqmnWdL8GvK2sh7bgi8U/s1600-h/nymph-1-br.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk9sdKSA-_6kfyKf9CEGCJk4OwbR5ZARQH0oi_wU1f9c9je7BmmhWGda1P0QonqMqFymD31-hS6gI_3Suv_rzHUeoTxgJQuFtOUa8VwYhqHCunqbeGpUb5GuYbDqmnWdL8GvK2sh7bgi8U/s320/nymph-1-br.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo ~ taken by me, grounds of VAG</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><br />
<center><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img111.imageshack.us/img111/8021/42875328.gif" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-39910135974319776722009-05-19T23:22:00.000-07:002013-07-02T16:41:15.139-07:00Anger and the Art of Healing<i>Acceptance begins with acceptance of the feelings of grief. That means letting them flow through you ~ finding the resolve to make your cross lighter to carry. ... Dig underneath. Go gently, but do go deeper. What's there? Where does it belong? </i><br />
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In response to a previous post on depression and healing, Blisschick commented,<i> I think that it's important that we allow our anger, though, especially at the beginning of healing</i>. Yes, we must acknowledge anger. But, we must take care what we do with this anger. Thoughts of revenge, restitution, or desires to spread the misery serve no purpose, and in fact poison our healing quest. Acting out of anger, making decisions rooted in anger, projecting your anger onto others all thwart the healing process, which aims at restoring equilibrium. <br />
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I struggled terribly against becoming my emotions. Anger, included. At the height of my anger, I would feel alomst possessed by it. Revenge became a form of emotional self-gratification for me.<span style="color: #0b5394;"> As though deliberately bring suffering unto someone else would reduce or eliminate my own!</span> When I began accepting that the particular offense occured, and that stewing about it would not advance my emotional cause, anger no longer possessed me.<br />
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Providing no resistance to the feeling flowing through me ~ observing it, only ~ also made a huge difference. I find I get angry far less now, that I make a point of trying to consider the offending situation from all perspectives, ie beyond my own. This removes the inclination to judge or lay blame. It turns the focus back to me ~ <i>What's there? Where does it belong</i>?<br />
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Two internal actions that I engage in, to avoid <i>becoming</i> my intense anger or grief:<br />
1. Acceptance of reality ~ ie the end of a relationship, death, abuse. Placing focus on responding to the new reality, as opposed to its existence.<br />
2. Taking on only the emotional baggage that belongs to me ~ ie. if one family member chooses against attending a family gathering because of my presence, well, that's their problem, not mine.<br />
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Nothing but compassionate attention and time can alleviate the pain of anger. And humility ~ which enables us to accept, and remember that what we think we want does not always provide us what we need.<br />
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<center><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img111.imageshack.us/img111/8021/42875328.gif" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-84090817553968927592009-05-18T04:52:00.000-07:002009-05-18T05:00:25.224-07:00Victoria Day and Thoughts of Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://bighugelabs.com/flickr/userdata/13/13ce/13ce41/13ce41b15565eda31240ae2eb7d6d0aa/31abea760aa6c0699c3e8811c9988694.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://bighugelabs.com/flickr/userdata/13/13ce/13ce41/13ce41b15565eda31240ae2eb7d6d0aa/31abea760aa6c0699c3e8811c9988694.png" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">My English Mosaic ~ all pictures taken by me in SW England last year</span></div><br />
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It's Victoria Day here in Canada. Since England has dominated my thoughts of late, it seems appropriate to share some of the photographs I took there, last year. It's a lovely place ~ picturesque, with lots of character and history. Someone I love dearly lives there, and I hope to return--. <br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><i>“<span style="font-size: x-small;">Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I will meet you there.”</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> “One day You will take my heart completely and make it more fiery than a dragon. Your eyelashes will write on my heart the poem that could never come from the pen of a poet.”</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">~Rumi</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span>Enjoy your week. I will continue writing about depression, because I have far more to add to my previous post. Writing 50-word stories has absorbed much of my attention of late. Check them out ~ they have their own blog, link to which appears at the top of this page.</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><br />
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<center><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img111.imageshack.us/img111/8021/42875328.gif" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-77609381331867630082009-05-16T15:54:00.000-07:002009-05-17T03:14:20.846-07:00Depression and the Art of Healing<span style="color: #990000;">What does depression feel like? </span><br />
Years ago, when I asked my sister, who's suffered depression episodes that sent her to the crisis unit, what depression felt like to her, she answered, <i>It feels like I'm in the pits of hell</i>. To me, it doesn't feel like I'm <i>in</i> the pits of hell, it feels like I <i>am</i> the pits of hell. The grief demon possesses me, I become his prisoner. At some point, destroying myself seems like a way to survive the anguish. In a nutshell, that's my experience of depression.<br />
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Now, let's move on. Think about healing.<br />
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<div style="color: #990000;">What does healing look and feel like? How do we achieve it? </div>Healing is not a process through which we seek validation or approval for our grief. It's not what we do to make ourselves feel better about feeling lousy. It's about attending to the grief and loss we feel ~ embracing it. Never mind if its right or wrong to feel what you feel. Just feel. And have compassion and patience with yourself as you stay present with your feelings.<br />
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Pain occurs to alert us to some sort of disequilibrium. It's meant to spur us to seek healing. Healing requires me to change my perspective, to engage. I'm not a shattered glass that requires piecing together. I am a walking wounded, in need of emotional and spiritual debridement. I must debride my wounds, the scar tissue of which, stifles and starves my growth and renewal. Things have happened to me to get me to this point, and so I must happen to things in order to forge ahead into the light. <br />
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Healing teaches us why we feel the way we do, and we learn healthy responses to those feelings that help us restore equilibrium. Resisting pain increases its intensity. Think of the skier tumbling down the slope ~ using muscle tension to resist the fall increases the severity of injuries sustained in said fall. Acceptance begins with acceptance of the feelings of grief. That means letting them flow through you ~ finding the resolve to make your cross lighter to carry.<br />
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At this point it has nothing to do with who or what gave you this cross, or with any notion of restitution for your suffering. It has only to do with self care ~ what must you do to remain present to your grief without feeling swallowed whole? Don't deny yourself. Be kind to yourself. Don't pity yourself. Feel. Be. Stay. You are your most crucial witness. Do not spread your misery around for self-gratification. Remember debridement ~ we must remove necrotic tissue from the wound, or the limb will eventually die from ischemia. Despair must never triumph! Find grace. Be grace. <br />
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Dig underneath. Go gently, but do go deeper. What's there? Where does it belong? <br />
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<center><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img111.imageshack.us/img111/8021/42875328.gif" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-52748184328007503932009-05-14T17:57:00.000-07:002009-05-15T23:04:35.538-07:00Winged Night Hope<div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: center;">**FYI ~ I moved all of the <a href="http://my-pink-sneakers.blogspot.com/">50-word story</a> posts to their own blog.**</div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgotDkYdBiD078EYHQPWxH7JPHCtoQTqD0edzUFVaOhmT7hmuyM6mYTqvgFucbrnGlVgAl2p1OGdn14n4QyEsBJaUFK909Pc-FAUIx_L_y_iPCj9PyU3Ani8BbTMMp21v1i7sUtxjeBJDv1/s1600-h/AJH-BarredOwl-talonsclose-wings-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="15" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgotDkYdBiD078EYHQPWxH7JPHCtoQTqD0edzUFVaOhmT7hmuyM6mYTqvgFucbrnGlVgAl2p1OGdn14n4QyEsBJaUFK909Pc-FAUIx_L_y_iPCj9PyU3Ani8BbTMMp21v1i7sUtxjeBJDv1/s320/AJH-BarredOwl-talonsclose-wings-5.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Winged night flight, </div><div style="text-align: center;">breath-taking and bold.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I shiver, in the darkness, </div><div style="text-align: center;">witness </div><div style="text-align: center;">to a preternatural sight,</div><div style="text-align: center;">shimmering, </div><div style="text-align: center;">in the light of </div><div style="text-align: center;">a gilded harvest moon. </div><div style="text-align: center;">A golden gossamer dream</div><div style="text-align: center;">sweeps swiftly</div><div style="text-align: center;">across an indigo sky;</div><div style="text-align: center;">Gripping hope</div><div style="text-align: center;">in her tightly curled talons.</div><br />
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<center><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img111.imageshack.us/img111/8021/42875328.gif" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-51560258719375231492009-05-12T22:56:00.000-07:002009-05-15T01:30:24.074-07:00Wishcasting Wednesday ~ Wishes for Connection<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-0Xf7HncCJso8lcL1FF4rS5CtlzjgaR63EFbwlPOPJsj8WwIfyDrgvNAaQdo2C5KuwGMKqmlTyHAPxe7dQv5S0xNGxRr1ZzzEox8R3V0J1oAqyeHSkVwuvM4UtbGN7MYQdKfV4qYxIGbq/s1600-h/wishcasting04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-0Xf7HncCJso8lcL1FF4rS5CtlzjgaR63EFbwlPOPJsj8WwIfyDrgvNAaQdo2C5KuwGMKqmlTyHAPxe7dQv5S0xNGxRr1ZzzEox8R3V0J1oAqyeHSkVwuvM4UtbGN7MYQdKfV4qYxIGbq/s320/wishcasting04.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #993399;">This week's Wish Prompt ~ What do You Wish to Connect to?</span></div><br />
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I wish to connect to my Self, in my quest to just BE.<br />
I wish to connect to what lurks within my heart, beneath the cobwebs of apprehension and doubt.<br />
I wish to connect to my surroundings through my daily photography project.<br />
I wish to connect to bliss, to humility and to forgiveness.<br />
I wish to connect to humanity ~ to the collective human soul and spirit.<br />
I wish to connect to the creative endeavours which I've begun.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWncFAXA66thhFW93cuAXNfsBQz_P0O-Ujb2pCaEf2I5SP8kcd4c3g1rmrFs2wqfyC4lzgVYneTATroJIaYCePIQDxQM9Nwp4BHumwhFUe1lYgVv0S6whwBkcOJjynZHml73jcndaH2kK4/s1600-h/Connection_by_Dagwanoenyent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWncFAXA66thhFW93cuAXNfsBQz_P0O-Ujb2pCaEf2I5SP8kcd4c3g1rmrFs2wqfyC4lzgVYneTATroJIaYCePIQDxQM9Nwp4BHumwhFUe1lYgVv0S6whwBkcOJjynZHml73jcndaH2kK4/s400/Connection_by_Dagwanoenyent.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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I wish to connect to discipline, particularly in times of chaos and vulnerability.<br />
I wish to connect to my parents, in ways I've yet to connect. As they age, I find myself reaching more and more for a connection with them that will transcend the finite, physical world.<br />
I wish to connect more with Mum & Dad on the phone ~ I do miss my long talks with mummy.<br />
I wish to continue my wonderful connection with my cat, Miss Meow. She's truly a healer for my spirit. <br />
I wish ~ my heart wishes ~ to connect to the heart of a certain Pilot.<br />
I wish to connect more fully to my marriage, and the partner with which I share this marriage skin. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">[PSSSsst ~ I've started a <a href="http://my-pink-sneakers.blogspot.com/">50-word story</a> blog]</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><br />
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<center><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img111.imageshack.us/img111/8021/42875328.gif" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-9234528450660408372009-05-12T16:35:00.000-07:002009-05-12T23:50:11.309-07:00Guardian of The Threshold ~ Invitation to Poetry # 35<a href="http://abbeyofthearts.com/blog/2009/04/27/invitation-to-poetry-honoring-the-gift-of-earth-and-a-special-prize-drawing/" imageanchor="1" linkindex="61" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSPtGoJEI2YQ_n2AiceQ-nHiaGtfvp221ICtQd6PVApS1_dGeIceMHXWf_qYgfqst-PIz9_sOBAOi2MecP1KI0Ue67E1uYh30vOpXR2ofxD4XaRQwKMkGI2-Ey2rppgOtDNSLuZ6Y7AjKr/s320/invitation+to+poetry.jpg" /></a>Every so often, <a href="http://abbeyofthearts.com/" linkindex="62">Abbey of the Arts</a> hosts a poetry invitation. She posts a picture and a theme and invites anyone to respond with poems, reflections, prose. Check the icon for more info. Read my submission below.<br />
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<i>~ Note: I've chosen another picture, rather than use the picture Christine provided in her 35th poetry invitation. ~<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA0d6Ukik0j8Rl70sEOtugCh19h1vZEIHVAEevaf0zMwN-nc8YCwZFyAzR2mxRy9i15sSHNE59wrrF7hdifQpeFAXR37QsHrIn2aOyHrmE8mDIpkmvXXB61yPvP9_z5F62b1jL2K6MOA8X/s1600-h/the_queen_of_hearts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA0d6Ukik0j8Rl70sEOtugCh19h1vZEIHVAEevaf0zMwN-nc8YCwZFyAzR2mxRy9i15sSHNE59wrrF7hdifQpeFAXR37QsHrIn2aOyHrmE8mDIpkmvXXB61yPvP9_z5F62b1jL2K6MOA8X/s320/the_queen_of_hearts.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Broken dreams of my ego</div><div style="text-align: center;">lay strewn at her feet ~ </div><div style="text-align: center;">heaps of salt in the desert. </div><br />
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<center><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img111.imageshack.us/img111/8021/42875328.gif" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-18999763023415476472009-05-09T07:05:00.000-07:002009-05-12T00:55:02.451-07:00Full Moon Dreamers ~ May Flower Moon<b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Full Moon Dreamboards</span></b> ~ a creative way to express what we wish to manifest in a particular month. Each month has a name, a this becomes the theme or inspiration for the dreamboard. For more on Full Moon Dreamboards, visit <a href="http://starshyneproductions.blogspot.com/2009/01/full-moon-dreamboards.html" linkindex="14">Jamie's</a> site.<br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Full Flower Moon</span></b> ~ <i>May</i> ~ The abundance of flowers at this time of year inspired the name for this moon, also know as the Full Milk Moon or the Full Corn Planting Moon.<br />
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This month Jamie asks us, <span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">"What seeds will you plant this month? What do you want to bloom, with this flower moon?" </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgarzsIZkCOfTFv0PJbILZufZUOHT4HjZgSvoPo-JYR0FtvVAFYFRmtSfg52hXv7VB7uAhvF8CTHkS9gEYlx274tYrEmNi7qe4xTPucQFoo9RUiG-5LelCYybyYT5UdYmMNfJDopZ7Qb_pw/s1600-h/full-flower-moon-dreamboard.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgarzsIZkCOfTFv0PJbILZufZUOHT4HjZgSvoPo-JYR0FtvVAFYFRmtSfg52hXv7VB7uAhvF8CTHkS9gEYlx274tYrEmNi7qe4xTPucQFoo9RUiG-5LelCYybyYT5UdYmMNfJDopZ7Qb_pw/s320/full-flower-moon-dreamboard.png" /></a></div><br />
I spotted May's full moon late Friday night. It hung in the sky, between the trees, like a silvery orb. As I stood in my driveway, in front of my tripod and gazing at the moon through my camera's lense, I could just feel her vibrant energy.<br />
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She did indeed appear to blossom in the night sky, casting a lovely glow on the blossom petals which carpeted the earth. In the distance, I spot a sea of blossom petals on the ground; each petal, a droplet which nature has released to make way for the sweet fruits of summer. <br />
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I wish to cultivate more compassion and grace in my heart.<br />
I wish to capture the magic and flavour of each moment, the serenity and spirit of my surroundings, the colour and character of each day and bottle these for later use.<br />
I wish to nurture and grow the seeds of inspiration that have germinated inside me.<br />
I wish for my current creative endeavours to continue bearing fruit.<br />
I wish for love, patience, acceptance, grace and humility to blossom within my heart and soul. <br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img144.imageshack.us/img144/1088/tinkerbellsig.png" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-13547241071504279042009-05-07T21:01:00.000-07:002013-07-02T20:06:45.996-07:00... I Shall Drink it and Always Be Full<center><br />
<br />
Once upon a midnight drearie<br />
I woke with something in my head<br />
I couldn't escape the memory<br />
Of a phone call and of what you said<br />
Like a game show contestant with a parting gift<br />
I could not believe my eyes<br />
When I saw through the voice of a trusted friend<br />
Who needs to humour me and tell me lies<br />
Yeah humour me and tell me lies<br />
And I'll lie too and say I don't mind<br />
And as we seek so shall we find<br />
And when you're feeling open I'll still be here<br />
But not without a certain degree of fear<br />
Of what will be with you and me<br />
I still can see things hopefully<br />
<br />
[refrain]<br />
But you<br />
Why you wanna give me a run-around<br />
Is it a sure-fire way to speed things up<br />
When all it does is slow me down<br />
<br />
And shake me and my confidence<br />
About a great many things<br />
But I've been there I can see it cower<br />
Like a nervous magician waiting in the wings<br />
Of a bad play where the heroes are right<br />
And nobody thinks or expects too much<br />
And Hollywood's calling for the movie rights<br />
Singing hey babe let's keep in touch<br />
Hey baby let's keep in touch<br />
But I want more than a touch I want you to reach me<br />
And show me all the things no one else can see<br />
So what you feel becomes mine as well<br />
And soon if we're lucky we'd be unable to tell<br />
What's yours and mine the fishing's fine<br />
And it doesn't have to rhyme so don't you feed me a line<br />
<br />
[refrain]<br />
<br />
Tra la la la la bomba dear this is the pilot speaking<br />
And I've got some news for you<br />
It seems my ship still stands no matter what you drop<br />
And there ain't a whole lot that you can do<br />
Oh sure the banner may be torn and the wind's gotten colder<br />
Perhaps I've grown a little cynical<br />
But I know no matter what the waitress brings<br />
I shall drink in and always be full<br />
My cup shall always be full<br />
<br />
Oh I like coffee<br />
And I like tea<br />
I'd like to be able to enter a final plea<br />
I still got this dream that you just can't shake<br />
I love you to the point you can no longer take<br />
Well all right okay<br />
So be that way<br />
I hope and pray<br />
That there's something left to say<br />
<br />
[refrain] x 2<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>~ Blues Traveller</i></span><br />
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<a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img144.imageshack.us/img144/1088/tinkerbellsig.png" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-27359158151608633552009-05-07T12:35:00.000-07:002009-05-12T00:45:56.257-07:00AHHHH ~ Classical Gas<center><br />
~take a listen to an awesome piece of music!~<br />
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<br />
<br />
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<center><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img144.imageshack.us/img144/1088/tinkerbellsig.png" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-15899472609571124802009-05-04T22:46:00.000-07:002013-07-02T16:54:57.608-07:00Requiem for a Sunflower<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8reoJR0ddUfoaCHOqPZD7jxWRp8v61HlsP9jS4T6aZTJj__fI1SLesObXkDT-qHLZ5GvYIx4zeCFAJwqz5o4M8G08L_yUc9ZcUSr3UnjgoP0eZbhimVLlYL6jyxBgxSJ3mmUxncswz31f/s1600-h/requiem-for-a-sunflower-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="289" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8reoJR0ddUfoaCHOqPZD7jxWRp8v61HlsP9jS4T6aZTJj__fI1SLesObXkDT-qHLZ5GvYIx4zeCFAJwqz5o4M8G08L_yUc9ZcUSr3UnjgoP0eZbhimVLlYL6jyxBgxSJ3mmUxncswz31f/s320/requiem-for-a-sunflower-4.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Withered, weary</div><div style="text-align: center;">leaves begin melting</div><div style="text-align: center;">into autumn's embrace;</div><div style="text-align: center;">shoulders drooped,</div><div style="text-align: center;">heavy head now stooped,</div><div style="text-align: center;">she releases her petals,</div><div style="text-align: center;">they descend ~ floating </div><div style="text-align: center;"> above an icy morning mist.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Her seeds extricate themselves</div><div style="text-align: center;">from their cloister.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Her crumpled and golden chalice,</div><div style="text-align: center;">now fully emptied.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Oh, poverty, what bliss!</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">photo: Christine Valter Paintner</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">poetry: Roxanne Galpin</span></div><br />
<center><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img144.imageshack.us/img144/1088/tinkerbellsig.png" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-21112560359997248552009-05-02T06:04:00.000-07:002013-07-02T16:54:38.115-07:00On Being RoxanneI have 465 published posts in this blog. These posts date back to January 2006, when I first began blogging. Those who have stuck with me since those early days will know what a restless creature I am, in trying to forge my Self. I started out as <i>graffitti artist</i>, then became <i>whispering forest nymph</i>, then <i>mad malva blue</i>, then <i>velvet acid tongue</i> or <i>velvet acid explosion</i>, then <i>the pink reefer</i>, then <i>the red mantissa</i>, then <i>frizzy scissorhands</i>, then <i>wulfine</i>, and now ... now I have come home. I am me ~ Roxanne Galpin, aka <i>tinkerbell the bipolar faerie</i>. I post my picture, my full name, and my geographic location. Why not? What have I to hide? Nothing, as in <i>transparent</i>. That's why I am home. No longer do I conjure up an image of some person that I wish I was. I can now just <span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">Be Roxanne</span>. What bliss! My H-Factor rises.<br />
<br />
One of my favourite bloggers from those early days left me this comment a few weeks ago ~ <i>”how come you keep reinventing yourself????????????? be content with one blog name; one avatar; one message!!!!”</i> Well put, <a href="http://darktimesdrac.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Ardlair</a>. My response to him? “<i>We are many.”</i><br />
<br />
I have felt like an onion these past few years. Continuously peeling away a layer, only to find another one, obscuring this thing, this treasure, I seek. And so, I have expended much time and energy and effort peeling away a layer, existing within that layer for a time, and then peeling it back, and repeating the same cycle over again.<br />
<br />
Each time, I’ve gotten closer to the truth. Each time, I’ve come closer to realizing the truth ~ ... <a href="http://h-factor-technica.blogspot.com/2009/05/authenticity-enlighted-ver.html">Read the entire post</a>.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">[Cross-posted from <a href="http://h-factor-technica.blogspot.com/">H-Factor Chronicles</a>.]</span></i></div><br />
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<center><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img144.imageshack.us/img144/1088/tinkerbellsig.png" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-72340473197568638272009-05-01T21:39:00.000-07:002009-05-12T00:50:18.661-07:00Rumpled Sheets<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvvA8iMsPcQSa1BcF0cUDo7CcCWbuCPKCxVPpyJLwifd49RQuypIpqOADOm4xv6xmhFLdkqqvE8zxVgJHZWzE8nLyh3mtz26nzXqjCh53dGr-43Rog7UxcyeAxipTeXPuBIWt7rZ_U4pP/s1600-h/rumpled-sheets-and-golden-light-amniotic-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="178" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvvA8iMsPcQSa1BcF0cUDo7CcCWbuCPKCxVPpyJLwifd49RQuypIpqOADOm4xv6xmhFLdkqqvE8zxVgJHZWzE8nLyh3mtz26nzXqjCh53dGr-43Rog7UxcyeAxipTeXPuBIWt7rZ_U4pP/s320/rumpled-sheets-and-golden-light-amniotic-3.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">On the wings of veiled dreams </div><div style="text-align: center;">I glide into a new day.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sunlight, streams through</div><div style="text-align: center;">pregnant apple blossoms,</div><div style="text-align: center;">dancing. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Golden shafts of light<br />
flutter upon </div><div style="text-align: center;">these rumpled sheets</div><div style="text-align: center;">that held us, </div><div style="text-align: center;">together</div><div style="text-align: center;">through a stormy and ebony night ~</div><div style="text-align: center;">our amniotic sac,</div><div style="text-align: center;">the colour of golden wheat,</div><div style="text-align: center;">and scented with the sweet, earthiness</div><div style="text-align: center;">of life forged in eksatis.</div><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo Credit: <a href="http://abbeyofthearts.com/">Christine Valters Paintner</a></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Poetry Credit: Roxanne Galpin</span></i></div><br />
<center><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img144.imageshack.us/img144/1088/tinkerbellsig.png" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-77470017361027232282009-04-28T00:40:00.000-07:002013-07-02T16:25:12.176-07:00Poetry Invitation # 34 :: Honouring the Gift of Earth<a href="http://abbeyofthearts.com/blog/2009/04/27/invitation-to-poetry-honoring-the-gift-of-earth-and-a-special-prize-drawing/" imageanchor="1" linkindex="61" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSPtGoJEI2YQ_n2AiceQ-nHiaGtfvp221ICtQd6PVApS1_dGeIceMHXWf_qYgfqst-PIz9_sOBAOi2MecP1KI0Ue67E1uYh30vOpXR2ofxD4XaRQwKMkGI2-Ey2rppgOtDNSLuZ6Y7AjKr/s320/invitation+to+poetry.jpg" /></a>Every so often, <a href="http://abbeyofthearts.com/" linkindex="62">Abbey of the Arts</a> hosts a poetry invitation. She posts a picture and a theme and invites anyone to respond with poems, reflections, prose. Check the icon for more info. Read my submission below.<br />
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<i>~ Note: I've chosen a picture of my own, rather than use the picture Christine provided in her 34th poetry invitation. ~<br />
</i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeAUq5n7eB524_XCRtEvepkt-5Y_athrKxl_uofBjdPQOYPh5S-02c2t4Ggz58GGJPGJslUIbxpT_F7UgUlm4S_XWZlp8sB9gxjRrq8Tmc0tD4fJfUPt6bWEIGV3i7ajj7D9PzTp4LN0av/s1600-h/mag-magnolia3.JPG" imageanchor="1" linkindex="63" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeAUq5n7eB524_XCRtEvepkt-5Y_athrKxl_uofBjdPQOYPh5S-02c2t4Ggz58GGJPGJslUIbxpT_F7UgUlm4S_XWZlp8sB9gxjRrq8Tmc0tD4fJfUPt6bWEIGV3i7ajj7D9PzTp4LN0av/s320/mag-magnolia3.JPG" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>Fingerprints </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Magnolia ~</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She whispers in her silence,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">beckons me, closer.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And I, in my darkness,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">feel her light</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">wrap its arms around me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Looking deep into her heart</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I see a reflection</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">of deep wisdom. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Magnolia ~</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She whispers in her silence,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I am but a fingerprint of God.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As are you.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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<center><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img144.imageshack.us/img144/1088/tinkerbellsig.png" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-64319254782081134672009-04-25T21:59:00.000-07:002009-04-30T06:02:47.173-07:00Lovers ~ The Embrace<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7h3otoEUmvmuyp8EEB6bt4k7SiglPjzzAFM9XWZv6jw4DJrY5tYhJ3VmiBiJrGJKbaUlXRGe41_hRvvXety6s9yakJxT0aXnORt6C1plA-kgZQ_JHYydFFtqnsoZjfxYcZDevl1u1zINW/s1600-h/DSC02564.JPG" imageanchor="1" linkindex="24" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7h3otoEUmvmuyp8EEB6bt4k7SiglPjzzAFM9XWZv6jw4DJrY5tYhJ3VmiBiJrGJKbaUlXRGe41_hRvvXety6s9yakJxT0aXnORt6C1plA-kgZQ_JHYydFFtqnsoZjfxYcZDevl1u1zINW/s320/DSC02564.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br />
~I'm sick, again! Grrrrr. So here I go, once more, with the Vicks Vapo-Rub, my Ventolin rescuer inhaler, many hot, steamy showers, and more blankets. And, oh yeah, lots of juice to drink. I'm beginning work on my book. Hugs to you all.~<br />
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<br />
<center><br />
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<div style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 8px; background-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); width: 300px;"><table border="0" cellpadding="7"><tbody>
<tr><td valign="middle" align="center"><div style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: rgb(51, 0, 102); height: 18px; width: 18px;"></div><br />
</td><td valign="middle" align="center"><div style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: rgb(102, 51, 153); height: 18px; width: 18px;"></div><br />
</td><td valign="middle" align="center"><div style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: rgb(153, 102, 204); height: 18px; width: 18px;"></div><br />
</td><td valign="middle" align="center"><div style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: rgb(204, 153, 255); height: 18px; width: 18px;"></div><br />
</td><td valign="middle" align="center"><span style="color: rgb(153, 102, 204); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana,arial;font-size:20;" >VIOLET</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="color: black; font-family: verdana,arial; font-size: 10px;" align="justify">You surround yourself with art and music and are constantly driven to express yourself. You often daydream. You prefer honesty in your relationships and believe strongly in your personal morals.</div><div align="center"><a href="http://www.quizmeme.com/color/" linkindex="25" style="color: rgb(153, 102, 204); font-family: verdana,arial; font-size: 9px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><b>Find out your color at QuizMeme.com!</b></a></div></div></center><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:x-small;"><i>[I found this little quiz while blog surfing; I love colour ... so had fun with this.]</i></span></div><br />
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<center><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694"><img src="http://img111.imageshack.us/img111/8021/42875328.gif" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></a></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-9426537626206557722009-04-22T21:29:00.000-07:002013-07-02T20:08:23.601-07:00What I'm Thinking, Reading Writing<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">On my Mind & Conscience ...</span><br />
I've had a little period of silence, here on the Tea Party, My last real post, about BlissChick's <a href="http://www.cooliris.com/" linkindex="20">100-Day Dare</a>, has weighed in my heart. Late last week, just thinking about making the particular change I had in mind when I wrote that post, made my heart a little sick. The many commenters to that post gave such encouragement, but I fear that I am weaker than any of you think. Alas, a <i>work-in-progress</i> am I. And, so I take the tiny steps, only considering the one I'm taking, and not the ones that lie ahead. <i style="color: #351c75;">[Assuming today is day 1, then day 100 happens on July 31st.]</i> I've spent some time grieving someone who has estranged himself from me in many ways, but who contacts me from time to time. Just a little taste, to remind me of the sweet flavour, and then great famine for an unknown while. On a more practical front, I have an appointment scheduled next week that may eventually lead me back work, part-time.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipmbMN4FTv9l8SQjNqK4NAf6ZpofNijknd0MVMWIqJiQDibAYMaSOC6Vb3RvRkDQ7x1AoETJzmN4nrEncebTd0JbAzs2-32bctn3xFLBhx8tJjKQp1lRzBt-Xl510uIesZ9OOJ6c_KlkMe/s1600-h/apple-blo2.JPG" imageanchor="1" linkindex="21" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipmbMN4FTv9l8SQjNqK4NAf6ZpofNijknd0MVMWIqJiQDibAYMaSOC6Vb3RvRkDQ7x1AoETJzmN4nrEncebTd0JbAzs2-32bctn3xFLBhx8tJjKQp1lRzBt-Xl510uIesZ9OOJ6c_KlkMe/s320/apple-blo2.JPG" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">white blossom ~ DTES Vancouver </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">On the Bookshelf ... </span><br />
Thomas Merton continues to lead me into contemplation with and about God in <i>New Seeds of Contemplation</i>. I've continued to plod slowly, but surely, through Karen Armostrong's <i>The Bible: A Biography</i>. And, of course, Eckhart Tolle's <i>Now</i> sits nearby; I read Tolle in spurts, then take some time to digest what I've read. I also have Susan Haskin's Mary Magdalen: The Essential History in the pile, beckoning me to open it. And, once in a while I flip through the $5 used copy of C.S. Lewis' <i>Mere Christianity</i>, which sits on my nightstand, atop my dictionary-thesaurus and beside my lamp. I have read Thich Naht Hanh's book about true love, a really quick and easy read one Sunday afternoon. That same afternoon, I read a lovely book about angels, their history, presence in different cultures, and the angel hierarchy. The next fiction book I'll likely read is the second book in the Stephanie Meyers series.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBF4RIlWJSso3u8Es6UCvbuk-RPRi_2xbwnc8uUvVEEmVKdVZw4JHBB1_9MN86H4VtOcpnSXdxyuMUdd0Iq1GSt77a1-pBRH2ZDpMkuwBTv1s1o6mji2SYX3tifN78B9i0y01hNBsdC0ZH/s1600-h/white-magnolia1.JPG" imageanchor="1" linkindex="22" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBF4RIlWJSso3u8Es6UCvbuk-RPRi_2xbwnc8uUvVEEmVKdVZw4JHBB1_9MN86H4VtOcpnSXdxyuMUdd0Iq1GSt77a1-pBRH2ZDpMkuwBTv1s1o6mji2SYX3tifN78B9i0y01hNBsdC0ZH/s320/white-magnolia1.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">white blossom ~ East Vancouver</span></div><br />
<div style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-size: large;">On the Writing Table ...</span></div>I watched <i>The Matrix</i> again, and it inspired me to write yet another post about the metaphors and symbolism in that movie. I've nearly finished the post. I just had to leave it for awhile, before concluding it. I've written several poems lately, inspired by Abbey of the Arts' Poetry Invitations. I've so far only posted 2. I'll post more as the time seems right. I've been pondering and considering my book of late. Some stability has seized the waters of my life, leaving just enough friction to keep fueling creativity and endurance of that creativity. I have to start disciplining myself, schedule some time out of each week, each day, to work on the book. I suppose I have stalled a little because parts of the story felt too painful to relive just yet. Also, at times, I feel as though perhaps the story has not ended yet. <i>In my heart</i>.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4nWzE9BVReh7P7VLEbFdHntYBbmcbW3-izQO8uJun8UAYUGxOOMJy0DEkhD_aKxH9enNxltT7t5-dG2IRpgcAQDWZ7u7fTkdZfcb9E8caukAOAlWnlaaOdyKuWjY4GKP5UsdOPNu2tC1F/s1600-h/mosaic-heart.JPG" imageanchor="1" linkindex="23" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4nWzE9BVReh7P7VLEbFdHntYBbmcbW3-izQO8uJun8UAYUGxOOMJy0DEkhD_aKxH9enNxltT7t5-dG2IRpgcAQDWZ7u7fTkdZfcb9E8caukAOAlWnlaaOdyKuWjY4GKP5UsdOPNu2tC1F/s320/mosaic-heart.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">mosaic heart ~ DTES Vancouver</span></div><br />
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<center><img alt="Creative Commons License" src="http://creativecommons.org/images/public/somerights20.png" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-28936135779014149112009-04-19T07:07:00.000-07:002009-05-09T02:24:59.551-07:00Sacred Life Sunday ~ Gilded Freedom (a poem)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVCcTPKIGrqUDgSqXbidKxnUgK_wmsLH4_bCYLRtFQIe8P0A21GU-jEh12bjBnh7VymBVNlmX11ZZcAqaYsgyXOwwRuDW7BKkVG34mjaAJd9NBQ9mG3Tm-F7NBsuNuKI4CCN1ktW66Yh0b/s1600-h/opened-cage-bird-flying-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="15" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVCcTPKIGrqUDgSqXbidKxnUgK_wmsLH4_bCYLRtFQIe8P0A21GU-jEh12bjBnh7VymBVNlmX11ZZcAqaYsgyXOwwRuDW7BKkVG34mjaAJd9NBQ9mG3Tm-F7NBsuNuKI4CCN1ktW66Yh0b/s320/opened-cage-bird-flying-2.jpg" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A crimson heart ~</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">sweet as nectar,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and a scarlet, burning ember</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> too deep to fathom ~</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">love, pure, fresh love </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">cleaves him to her.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">He opens the gilded cage,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">watching, awestruck</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and with baited breath.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Apprehensive, her wings unfurl,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She flutters, then sails away</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">on the gentlest stream of </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">a breeze.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Shimmering,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">she returns </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">to the gilded cage</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and sees Him there,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">waiting.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Her wings, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">beating</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">in time with her heart.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Her heart,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">beating</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">in time with His.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">image credit: google, public domain</span><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>poetry: copyright Roxanne Galpin</i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I<span style="color: #990000;">nspired by and dedicated to Martin, who showed me that I do have wings, that they can carry me, and that I can fly on my own. He showed me this through the anguish of his love, which gave him the strength to hold the cage open for me to fly out. Of course, I flew back into the cage to my husband, a man who understands that loving me requires giving me alot of space. </span></span></span>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6831646832101933997.post-34766829996622466712009-04-17T06:31:00.000-07:002009-04-17T07:27:56.527-07:00Encouraging Bliss:: Twilight Reflections<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiDohFwdC_v3Xzzzjv3f9zp6WjT9uU9epWBTp44HDsWl_1u8e_LF6iHyWrvr24jmbuSRWG3PCIkz6JgfSX_pfqcHrkZkoNoHWrSy9XQXZYzl_OoxREemEUNTn8-2no3s0OmM87fmmWw5O4/s1600-h/encouragingbigger.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="17" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiDohFwdC_v3Xzzzjv3f9zp6WjT9uU9epWBTp44HDsWl_1u8e_LF6iHyWrvr24jmbuSRWG3PCIkz6JgfSX_pfqcHrkZkoNoHWrSy9XQXZYzl_OoxREemEUNTn8-2no3s0OmM87fmmWw5O4/s200/encouragingbigger.jpg" /></a></div><br />
It's the middle of the night. I'm sitting in bed, under the covers with my laptop. Somehow, the bed feels larger. Perhaps, that's because I feel much smaller, tonight, than I did this morning. Dear Reader, you cannot imagine how small I feel. My shame lingers in the spaces between words spoken; it stagnates, like the smell of something burning. I find it a challenge to examine my rather large and foolish error without judgement. Foolish ~ too harsh a word, maybe? Alternatives? Ill-Considered. Careless. Naive, even.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-IvXBUYCKL4AHpfLqBl2v1dUHnfZkUllek9e7qb9aL1QqqX9d_-VbJ-D5Ufdysbt6GwxU7WVYKxD7eg2k5m69pH3xBowIWQZDyI8SDcBfFiDo2nbbAUlv6-2X5t1ArG2l2ReSLSAZcEPL/s1600-h/twilight-reflections.JPG" imageanchor="1" linkindex="18"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-IvXBUYCKL4AHpfLqBl2v1dUHnfZkUllek9e7qb9aL1QqqX9d_-VbJ-D5Ufdysbt6GwxU7WVYKxD7eg2k5m69pH3xBowIWQZDyI8SDcBfFiDo2nbbAUlv6-2X5t1ArG2l2ReSLSAZcEPL/s320/twilight-reflections.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">[Photo ~ taken on a sunny day here, in Vancouver a week ago]</span></div><br />
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It seems pointless to persecute myself. It seems purposeful and wise, though, to really take to heart and mind what I need to do, and gaze at it through the prism of wreckless, wanton desire (the force that fuels my error). I see, more clearly, the painful struggle one endures in the quest for Self ~ the self I think I want to be vs. the self God created me to be. The <i>Wannabe</i> seeks comfort by filling herself. The True Self seeks comfort in acceptance and through emptying herself.<br />
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I must begin to empty a particular falseness. Its a falseness that coats the <i>Wannabe</i> (entraps her, really) like a poisonous membrane. <i>She must no longer fill herself with poison. She must purge.</i> It feels like I must release my grip from the edge and fall freely away from the known precipice, toward the unknown, without fear or tension. When I let go, I will liberate myself. When I let go, my wings will carry me; I will feel such joy and peace ... and BLISS. Do I have the courage to follow the obscured and jagged trail that leads to the light?<br />
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<center><img alt="Creative Commons License" src="http://creativecommons.org/images/public/somerights20.png" style="border-width: 0pt;" /></center>roxanne s. sukhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424834424208118694noreply@blogger.com12