Some people think miracles have to be big
They don’t have to be something huge
I believe they can be very small
If you look around, you will find them

A miracle is walking past someone
Whom you have never met or seen before
And your eyes meet theirs
And that person smiles at you

A miracle is as simple as breathing
And In and out the air goes
The most amazing thing about it is
We don’t have to think about it

A miracle is just opening your eyes waking up
Bright and early in the morning,
And while you are eating or bathing
You find yourself in your own body

And in stressful times, a miracle is a friend
Who is willing to help you when you are in need,
Whether you need help in homework
Or just a friend to talk to and listen to them

A miracle is a mother saying “No!” to something
If it’s going out with friend or just leaving the house
She is doing everything she can to protect the child
From any harm from the harsh and cruel world

A miracle is just sitting there and listening
To a friend or a friendly neighbor,
And when it’s really quiet and everything still
You could hear a beautiful song in the wind

A miracle is looking to yourself for comfort
And hugging yourself for no good reason
Tell yourself that you are a beautiful person
And finally loving yourself for who you really are

A miracle is thanking God that you are alive every day
Not only on your best day, but on your worst days too
“You only live once; make the most of it,” the saying goes
And one of these days, you will go to a new life.

A miracle is looking out in the crowd
And find a person who acts different from everyone else
Or wears clothes that are “strange” or “weird”
And finally finding a person who stands out

A miracle is seeing someone trying to impact a life
Not necessarily putting your life on the risk
But helping people, making a difference in someone’s life
Or if you can’t suceed, to at least try to do something

A miracle is when everyone else is telling lies
And someone in the crowd speaks out against it
And you find out by accident that it’s the truth
The person being that one voice for the truth

A miracle is not finally finding the man of your dreams
It’s not kissing someone or flaunting what you have
It’s not trying to “fit in” or being popular in school
I hope you see that it’s so much more than that

To see them brings joy and happiness to my world
And I encourage you to try to find them
And see if they bring happiness to your world
I want to tell you one more little thing

I love and live for these little miracles!

Also, I woke up this morning to a text message from a friend of mine with some pretty incredible news. A pretty nasty Greek quiz was scheduled today, and I spent a lot of hours last night studying for it. I went to bed frustrated and tired. My prof is pretty difficult and also never misses a day of class. Well... he e-mailed us this morning and decided to cancel class for the day! This gives me time to work on two other papers that are due this week, plus I studied a lot so that I caught up in Greek without having to fail a quiz.

This is starting out as one of those days where you just get that kinda sinking feeling that it can't all go this well. Know what I mean?

Plans to knock my classes down quickly this semester

Guitar, exercise, reading, spending SOME time with friends and family.

Onfire

Tomorrow I'm going to Hershey Med. to watch sperm and eggs swim around a petri dish.

Guess what people? God delivers. I asked for some reassurance that He is with me on the sponsoring 10 Compassion kids plan, with the knowledge that I couldn't get any more hours at work. Today, I go in to work, my supervisor offers me more hours. Up to fifteen every week more than now. You can easily explain it away as coincedence, but it isn't.

Sometimes life does not seem fair.  Sometimes we cannot seem to find a rhyme or reason for why the universe works the way it does.   Sometimes we are thrown a curve, or we watch loved ones go through horrific events and it rouses anger, a sense of helplessness, and sadness.  The way we deal with these emotions is through the grieving process.

So what is the grieving process?  I would lean towards saying it is expressing whatever emotion you can to the fullest extent you can.  Crying spontaneously, admitting that the situation is next to unbearable, talking about it and sharing freely with loved ones how you feel.  Journalling your innermost thoughts and the fears it may raise in you about your own situation.  Whatever grieving means to you.  A good friend of mine once suggested that while I could not be present at my grandfather's funeral since I was overseas at the time, that I create some time for a ritual.  A time of meditation about memories of my grandfather and perhaps lighting a candle and writing him a goodbye letter and then burning it as a symbol of me saying goodbye in my own way.  I did not take her good advice to the extent that I could have and always felt an open loop about the death of my grandfather until I did one day create the symbol and say goodbye.  It relieved me tonnes to be able to truly make peace with it.

Symbols or talismans are a wonderful way in which to give material life to your emotions, pour yourself in to them, and therefore get them out of your system.  I'm not suggesting they don't belong, I'm merely suggesting that it is entirely therapeutic to give your full attention to them, and let them move through you instead of holding on to them and letting them paralyze you.

Consider it an opportunity to practice ho'oponopono and ground yourself.  Thank you.  I'm sorry.  I forgive you.  I love you.   And so it is.

While it is difficult to imagine, feelings of anger and sadness wished to be given the same attention and care as feelings of jubilation and celebration, because to them, they are all feelings and all feelings are energy and all energy has a primitive need to be in motion.  So let your energy be in motion today - be it that of grief or stress, or gratitude and love.  Express yourself today.  Create your own symbol for Wednesday being over, or kiss your pillow before falling asleep in gratitude that you have a bed to sleep in and a roof over your head.

Wherever you are, and whatever you are expressing, I am sending you a hug through the coconut wireless.

:)

May we all feel the pull of our callings and find a way to follow them...

Blessings to the Jamshids!  :)

How amazing that this woman has turned what must have felt like a devastatingly painful event in her life into something so positive, so loving and so sharing. I am inspired by her light. Read her story in the attached .pdf (Elgin’s Crop) to find out more about Embrace of Hope.

It has certainly moved me to find more ways to not only see my dark experiences as potential for great light, but to also use my passions/skills/talents for events of giving, sharing, and living in the light.

Light to all,

Pamela

You can also download through iTunes, or directly from the site above as an .mp3

Then this morning, in the pouring rain that has barely stopped for two days, as I was about to pull out of my driveway to run some errands, I looked in the rear view mirror and saw a mother duck and her four little babies waddling by! I had to stop and smile - first of all thanking God that I DID LOOK before I put the foot to the gas pedal, and secondly that at the very moment I was able to see such an adorable little sight of these 5 creatures waddling and the oh-so-cute little ducklings just following their momma with complete faith on a stroll through the rain.

I find great joy in these moments....and I share them with you in hopes that they remind you of the joyful moments you have in your day too.

Peace,

Pamela

I imagine that I am Frida Kahlo, a wild, beautiful girl with many lovers, male and female.

Mostly I imagine that I am free.

At wildlife rescue tonight I was offered a little piece of heaven, of freedom. In a mock aviary in the back of the rescue sits five cliff swallows, juveniles. Tonight they were flying around the aviary, landing on the little rope perches, begging for the mealworms I had for them. But the most amazing thing about them was the sound they made as they flew circles around me. The beating of their wings sounded like the flight of fairies entering your dreams at night (like the sound you make when you sigh and it has to pass through your teeth and lips before it leaves your body - only lighter). I had the feeling I was witnessing something magical. I felt as if they were not of this earth, these dark birds with their intense eyes -- and they lifted my spirit into another realm. I felt as if I had entered another world when I entered that aviary, and was blessed by the swallow fairies that inhabited it.

When we care for the animals at the wildlife rescue we are temporarily locking up the essence of the earth while we tend to its wounded citizens. You can hear the essence in the beating of birds' wings, you can smell it in the breath of a night heron who has just eaten smelt, you can feel it in the oil and dirt that passes from feather to finger.

And you wonder where your essence has gone, your wildness. You think back to the time when you smiled easily and the wind and dirt were your friends. These birds are this essence every day, even locked up in a little aviary.

Tonight I was shift supervisor. I had to make sure that all the birds and mammals got their feedings, got their meds, little bird foot casts, cream on a snake's back. Dishes washed, lights turned out...alarm set. Now, when someone else has this role I think nothing of it. But when you are given this responsibility and you lock 20 wild animals into a small house at night the weight of the world sits on your shoulders. You are, for a night, a shepherd of the earth and its wounded citizens, and only your heart can guard them as you fall into bed.

Take some time out to think about your breath today...is it shallow? Does it quicken when you feel a certain emotion? What do you feel after you deepen it? How does it feel to contract you rib cage or to feel your lower belly rising with the power of air, and pushing that air back out again?

We have a general tendency when we get older to breathe lighter and more up in our chest and with a shallow timing. And so goes our laughter as we age. We laugh quickly and sometimes quietly to not disturb any sort of perceived peace around us. Not so when we are young. If you are not around young people right now, then watch the video below to jog your memory:

Above all, remember what it was like to laugh fully - deep in your belly complete laugh our loud laughter. Abandon all notions of what others will think, or how you sound, or anything in and in the moment laugh! Wholeheartedly. There is great therapy in laughter...can anyone in the moment they are laughing feel anything other than joy? I mean truly - doesn't it all seem to melt away, and isn't there a sense of restored peace, even if only for a few seconds, after a good laugh?

I encourage you all to laugh and breathe like babies, and to find the laughter in your daily routine.

Light and Laughter to you all!

Pamela

May you connect with your dreams in peace and love today....

_______________________________________________________

Grab some kleenex and hold on for the ride - this story is absolutely amazing. It will take your breath away when you become aware of any assumptions you may have made before the end of the video and you will cry out for joy that someone has re-claimed their power, despite all odds, but also with all odds.

When you know what your gift/dream is, sooner or later it will find you a way to realize it, and hopefully you are willing to step up to the microphone when that happens....there could be no better feeling in the world than to live and act in harmony with your purpose. God Bless you Paul for showing us a piece of beauty...

Paul Potts - Britain's Got Talent

You see, it doesn't matter what I write, as long as I write. Getting my thoughts out of my head onto virtual paper is a necessity, a diversion from the day-in/day-out of corporate nonsense.

It's where we really live, really, in our own heads, not in this world. We are but burrowing insects, waiting for the right time to emerge, to strike, to get what we want. Yet most creative minds want to be out of step with the rest of the world. It pains us to be like everyone else, and there are so many like us. I am speaking in a non-linear fashion, but sometimes that is the only way to speak, in a tongue all your own. I have read much more obtuse prose, believe you me. I guess what I'm trying to say is that keeping out of step is more interesting, greater things happen between the lines.

The Cicadas have been on my mind, as their 17-year slumber party is over as they descend upon the midwest. Gone are the nights of sucking on sweet tree candy and dreaming of the sun. Now is the only chance in their little lives to make love and procreate. I think I would wake up for that too but that's another story altogether that might blow the endoplasm of most single-celled organisms.

After the female Cicada is lured by the lilting song of the male, they mate, and she deposits her eggs in the slit of a twig. She deposits hundreds of eggs -- and soon after she dies, as do the males. When the eggs hatch, the newborns drop to the ground, where they burrow and start another cycle. The Magicicada Cicada goes through a 13- or even a 17-year life cycle. These long cycles are so they can avoid predators such as the cicada killer wasp and the praying mantis. You see, these years are prime numbers, so while a Cicada with a 15-year life cycle could be preyed upon by a predator with a 3- or 5-year life cycle, the prime cycles allow them to stop the predators from falling into step. When did this begin? What year? How did they reset? What a wonderful story of survival of the fittest, what a creative way of staying ahead of the lemmings.

For the first 25 years of his life, no one knew that his birth was great and that he was royalty.

After living for a long time in small quarters with very little good food to eat, his caretaker died, and he had to move to another part of the kingdom.

A gentle fairy named Michelle took him under her wing, where he lived for a time, eating well and receiving love and warmth and medicine to cure what ailed him. It was there that two people, Michael and Cordelia, became aware that Mr. Charms was living nearby. They had only heard myths about a prince named Mr. Charms who had magical powers, so when they heard that he was looking for his rightful home they came and got him as soon as they were able.

Mr. Charms moved into his family’s castle, and began to give the gift of joy to Michael and Cordelia. He entertained them with his beautiful singing, his comedy, and his quiet wisdom.

However, though he loved them both, he bonded most closely with Michael, and they became great friends.

Michael would play banjo and Mr. Charms would sing along. They would watch theatre together, and would sometimes spend hours telling each other important secrets. They settled into a nice routine of chats over breakfast, naps together, and the occasional duet.

This great friendship lasted a year, at which time Mr. Charms told Michael that his time was up. You see, Mr. Charms was not just a prince of this kingdom; he was a prince of the world. Mr. Charms explained that he had to move on and share his magic with everyone, not just us.

Mr. Charms turned into a lovely grey cockatiel with a yellow head and rosy cheeks. He and Michael and Cordelia said goodbye, and Mr. Charms flew away over the rainbow bridge.

Mr. Charms
1980-2007

Every morning I drive to work and I look for birds on this one particular stretch of road. My gazes are fleeting - I only have a few seconds to observe these particular birds. They are waking up with the sun, warming their feathers and nares and tiny talons. They are pigeons, gulls, and blackbirds.

In winter I think alot about the birds at night. Huddled together in their nests, conserving their energy and trying to stay warm. And hummingbirds (mostly male) are in a state of torpor every night. Torpor is a state of regulated hypothermia. A hummingbird, in torpor, slows its heartrate from 1260 bpm to a staggering 150 bpm when it goes to sleep at night. This is so it can conserve its energy to wake up the next day. When a hummingbird rises with the sun, it takes 10 minutes to an hour for it to raise its heartrate back to 1260 bpm and begin its day searching for food. When female hummingbirds are laying eggs and raising hatchlings, they do not go into torpor because they must stay warm to keep their children warm.

Every day that I think of cold and warmth I think about life's torpor, human torpor. I experience it alot, I try to get unstuck, to warm up, to begin each day anew. And I turn to the birds to find some insight. Sometimes my parrots and I watch the gulls fly overhead, and our hearts lift and long to fly away with them. I imagine what it must be like to wake with a clear view of the mountains and the sun and a pink sky, and to feel the sun on my face and the vibrations of the earth.

Where do you find your energy, your inspiration...what wakes you from your torpor? A slight breeze to lift your wings might be all you need.

May all beings be peaceful
May all beings be happy
May all beings be safe
May all beings awaken to the light of their true nature
May all beings be free

- Metta Prayer

Magical creatures are everywhere. You can find them just by looking up. Just think of it - the stars, the moon, the sun, the clouds, the mountains, the birds.

Yesterday my husband Mike and I decided to beat the heat and go up to San Francisco for the day. Turns out it we wouldn't beat the heat at all, but at least it was only in the 90s.

We had no real plan, only to go up to SF and get near the water. We accomplished that by taking CalTrain up to the last stop, and then we took the N Judah and the F Line to the end of the line. There past the warfs is the marina district where there is a little beach. We watched people enjoying their day - bicycling, swimming, and we even got to see a bit of a Regatta! Funny that the sound of a cannon firing can bring a smile to your face.

Mike and I were hungry, so we wandered over to Pizz'a Chicago, only to find it wasn't there anymore. I suggested we walk over to North Beach and eat at a cafe over there, which is a hike up quite a few steep streets, from the marina in to the Russian Hill area of SF. Lovely houses and streets in this area. Little alleyways, stolen glances of someone's personal zen (there sits a Buddha in the garden!), a few small steep stairs that lead to a basement or otherwise, and a leaning house never fixed after the last quake.

After some significant hiking up some unforgiving hills, we found ourselves in the stranges of places, the bottom of Lombard Street. For those of you who might not know SF this is the street that is supposedly the most crooked street in SF. It's lined with beautiful landscaping and people that are trying to sell their houses on both sides. :-) And it's full of tourists doing what? Watching people drive down Lombard Street. It's really one of those WTF? moments, though it is a neat-looking street.

But herein lies the secret. Those silly tourists know nothing about good vacation deals.

Next time you are at the bottom of Lombard Street looking up at that street turn around and head down Lombard Street toward North Beach. Walk about a half block until you see a tree with pods on it and look up.

There, in the tree, you might see about five cherry-headed and green-cheeked conures, having their brunch and talking about their day. It might sound like "honk" and "you don't say?" and "caliente!" (which is conure-speak for it's bloody hot today).

So when you're outside tomorrow, remember to look up - you'll never know what you'll see.

Strange world we live in. Today I read a blog on www.sfgate.com about how parents take their kids to see zookeepers feed dead bunnies to tigers at the San Francisco zoo. I wonder what the fascination is - are we so removed from Mother Earth that we can only embrace nature when it's a form of entertainment? What happened to communing with nature? I, for one, did not embrace the entrance of the Information Age, though I have used some of the advancements from it as tools to further my personal growth. I do not like the Information Age. The wealth of knowledge and opinions that live on the Internet is like having a thousand books at your disposal that you don't want to read. To me, it's not exhilarating, it's overwhelming.Yet, everyday people go online looking for something outside of themselves to make them happy.

One day I went on a hike with my friend Brian to Muir Woods. After lunch we went to Rodeo Beach, someplace I had never been before. It was a gorgeous day, and before we found a spot on the sand we were treated to the site of a Great Blue Heron waltzing its way down the road behind us and in to the marsh.

Then, we enjoyed the simple act of sitting and watching the ocean, occasionally looking up to watch dozens of pelicans enjoying their freedom. To watch such magnificent creatures makes your heart soar...and sore.