Brothers

Love showed itself on a sidewalk
facing west for passing cars
on the hilly sidewalk that has
a surprise mystery step
and I was lucky to choose
turning right instead of left
that would have been a short cut
but love knew right was best
or I may not have noticed
the twin boys, color of burnt sienna
wearing over sized blue coats.
and backpacks full with eyes
that said, “we’re new at this
and it’s scary.”
brothers holding hands
because mama said to do it
and leave your coat on
even if you’re hot cause
coats aren’t cheap.
Yes, love showed itself today
thank you Love.
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Father Joshua, Psychic Surgeon

Psychic Surgeon, Father Joshua

 
I read a bumper sticker once that said, “in life, try everything once except for incest and folk dancing.” So when my friend Barbara sent an email that a psychic surgeon was going to be speaking at her book store, (http://aquariusbooks.com/) I had to go! He had such a gentleness with a touch of funny. I won’t say what he endured as a teenager but it made me so sad and I couldn’t believe he still had such love. Mesmerized, I scheduled an appointment for a healing. Twice, I wanted to cancel but didn’t. How was I going to explain this one to my husband especially when there wasn’t anything wrong with me?

“Dress comfortably and be in a prayerful state,” were Father Joshua’s words. It was starting to get dark and I was the last client. Why didn’t I tell anyone where I’d be in case he accidentally ripped me open and I died on the table? Oh my God I was nervous! I laid on a massage table that was covered with a white sheet and the Bible was placed under my head. He began with prayer which calmed me immediately. Blessed holy water was used along with oil for his hands and then he started his work. Holy cow, I felt his hands inside my organs and could hear a slushing sound so I closed my eyes. Why did I wear my new white shirt? It was probably covered in blood. This is no exaggeration.

I was born with one leg shorter than the other but it only bothered my mom who complained when she hemmed my pants. Twenty four years ago, I injured my left knee during pregnancy and I could hear crunching sounds when I walked which was starting to give me pain. Sometimes it would give out when I least expected it and my family wanted me to have surgery. Father Joshua shook my legs and said, “your leg used to be two inches shorter than the other.” I never told him. When he pushed into my stomach I felt a tug and he told me my bladder was lifted to the correct spot, and that hurt a little. Surprisingly, there wasn’t any blood and I felt like I had just had a massage, long nap and a chocolate. It was hard to walk to the car, I was so high.

I still bend my knee trying to hear a crunching sound, but it is healed. I danced at a wedding recently without fear of falling. I wish more people could have this opportunity. He is truly gifted and blessed by God. 
As far as psychic surgeons go, don’t knock it until you try it! Trippy.

Father Joshua http://www.psychicsurgeon.org

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A Brother’s Wisdom

   The night had a bite in its breeze for a change in the beginning of August when people are usually complaining about the heat and brown grass. Smokers had turned the party into an outside one real fast and some managed to complain about the mosquitoes. Never mind the smell of cigarette butts piled high in votive candle cups, some floating on the top with yesterday’s rain. We needed the rain, no one was complaining. Maybe the trains were blasting their horns but nobody noticed because brother was in town and his jokes always caused laughing louder than a train’s horn. One of the sisters was in a dark mood but beer can do that. In fact, beer takes the conversation off topic quick and I wondered how we went from Confucius sitting in a church pew to the state of homeless people.

    “You can’t trust them, they’re mean.” Voices talking over voices, competing for attention. “That ain’t true,” my brother said. It’s hard to convince someone who has a chip on their shoulder but she continued. “I gave a man a sandwich and he threw it back at me! Told me he wanted money,” she said. “No, I don’t give them anything and I lock my doors.” I wanted to blame her attitude on Coors Light but brother was equally Coors lit. ,

    In his quiet and smooth demeanor, brother asked, “did I ever tell you all about the guy on the street who had a sign with the words cold beer on it?” “Man I felt so sorry for that guy and all I had was two bucks on me so I gave it to him and told him I wished it was more so he could run over and get me one too!”

    “Not me, I wouldn’t have done it,” she argued. “Well I’m sure glad I did it because do you know that every time I ran into that guy, he had a beer for me too!”, he said. “Oh yeah, I’ve got another one! There was this Mexican man who came to work with us at a job site and he followed me all day for like two days bumming cigs from me. I started to get frustrated on the last day and all I could think about was man is this guy going to depend on me for all  his smokes?”  “You’re too nice, that’s stupid,” she groaned. “Well, I’ve been in his shoes and I knew he didn’t speak much English so I felt bad for the guy.”

     “I bet he didn’t feel bad for you!” she smiled. “That’s the funny part guys! Did you know that every single day after those two days, he was always running up to me with a cigarette in his hands offering me one? It got embarrassing but he shared all his cigarettes with me for a year,” brother said laughing. “What made him stop?” sister asked. “He went back to Honduras!” Thunderous laughing followed and before we knew it, brother had changed the direction of the conversation back to Confucius jokes and times when he was a Marine without a car somewhere in Tijuana Mexico having to share his only orange with his buddy who woke up before he could eat it. “Woo! I was starving and really looked forward to that orange but he was starving too.” “At least I found my stolen car, that was good.”

     “Speak the truth, do not yield to anger, give, if thou art asked for little, by these three steps thou wilt go near the gods.” ~Confucius~

 

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I Am You and You are Me (“IN LA KESH, ALA KEN”)

 

 

“All things share the same breath~the beast, the tree,
the man, the air shares its spirit with all the life it supports.”
                ~Chief Seattle~
   I was told once, that world war three was going to be with Mother Nature by a modern Mayan priestess. Before an earthquake damaged Haiti, many of my family members and friends, myself included felt agitated and nervous. Some woke during the night to pray and others cried for no reason, then we saw the devastation of a cruelty nobody could defend against. Musicians sang and raised money, the whole world ached. I especially remember the musicians from Haiti who sang and danced on the telethon in their native way. I felt happy, we all danced in the living room. Were we being disrespectful? Weren’t  Haitian women singing in the streets as their form of prayer?
   There is a sacred ritual called a Hunbleceya or Vision Quest from the Blackfeet and Lakota native Americans to find inner peace when they are faced with forks in the road. This quest involves walking to a sacred mountain or a secluded outdoor space for 1-4 days without food or water.They will pray to the Creator for guidance. Volunteers are asked to eat and drink for that person. This involves being present when eating and drinking with the intent of nourishing the Vision Quester. Coincidentally, or not, I received an email from a woman who had been a volunteer. She said many times when a person comes down from the mountain, they will ask, “Who was eating strawberries? They were delicious, thank you!” 
  What a great idea! Look at the pictures of these people, look at Chile, at Japan, wherever there is pain and you feel helpless.Cry first, then enjoy your food. Enjoy your warm home, your families. Be gratitude. Become a state of being, whether it’s Peace, Joy or Courage, but leave negative emotions behind. Do it for them, do it for you.

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The Palm Reading

The Palm Reading

 

“In arming yourself with this science, you arm yourself with a great power and you will have a thread that will guide you into the labyrinth of the most impenetrable hearts.” ~ Henri De Balzac~ 

     Everybody knows the taste of hell from a deep rooted sense of fear and anger that comes into our lives because we can’t see past ourselves. There are answers that help solve the riddles on the palms of our hands and if you are afraid to face yourself, it’s highly probable that you will be scared of the palm reader.

    I am the scary 5 foot tall palm reader from the suburbs who raised children, grows flowers and paints on canvas in the kitchen but he didn’t know that on Saturday afternoon. His dark skin with shaved eyebrows, long nails and hands the size of my face may scare some people but I could see his eyes and they were kind. A little boy who was afraid, very afraid. Twice he ran out of the room when it was his friend’s turn but at closing time, he returned and laid his money on the table.

     Large hands, capable of making beautiful things and a lover of detail. Soft, fleshy hands that may be prone to lofty dreams or laziness. I held both hands to connect with his soul. This is the moment when whatever they have done yesterday, be it good or bad, is dissolved because their higher self is present. The many lines on his hands told stories and I read as many as I could considering the time crunch. A strong life line indicating a passion for living but the head line was disconnected from the life line, showing a large gap. The gap of an extrovert or a dare devil but in his case it was the sign of a risk taker because of the many stars and short lines interrupting the main lines.

     Sweat started to show on his face and his laugh already knew what the lines predicted so I drew my attention away from the lines, closing my eyes, I saw his mother. I saw his dreams, I felt his uncomfortable living conditions. This man was a lover of opulence who dreamed of owning a restaurant but could perform and captivate an audience. How? There was a block he carried and I said, “Your mom is wild!” The other men laughed and he nodded. I saw that she liked sex but kept that to myself.
 
     He was an accident waiting to happen, had crashed his new car, broke seven bones in his body and even managed to run over his foot with the lawn mower, thankfully keeping all toes. Was he angry at his mom, yes! Things were making sense. Wide space in between life and head line screamed, “I am a soul that came to experience freedom! I will be a risk taker so my big dreams can manifest!” is how he pre-marked himself.

     “You can thank your mother for allowing you to know your soul’s dream. If you were left alone as a child, she was in some odd way honoring your soul,” I said. None of my words made sense to me, worry wart me who didn’t trust babysitters. “What a gift this woman is to you, I hope you love her enough to thank her for being in your life.” He had no words, he had no nervousness, in fact I was invisible. He looked through me and beyond the walls of the room. The room was darkened by winter’s early evening and I closed the reading to his silence.

     “Thank you, I am glad to have come to see you today,” were his words. We stood up and he was the only client of the day who gave me a hug. A six foot six hug without any fear of the five foot palm reader.

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