HEART WISDOM by Jackie VanCampen

10590553_744461235618791_3477504844160236044_nWhat is perfection
But a point of view?
Perfection resides 
In the stories we create
In the listening of the ego
In the suppression of humanity

When we can let go
And just be ourselves
Without any judgment
We are no longer bound
By what we think is perfect or imperfect
Everything just is

Let your heart’s wisdom
Be the barometer of what’s perfect
And in doing so
You will find that
You
Others
Life
Are perfect just the way
You and they are

Free yourself from the shackles
That keep you from showing up
As the “perfection” you
Have been created to be
Honor who you are
And you will triumph over
The small self that keeps
Hanging on to the story
That you are either perfect or imperfect
Just be
And you will
master perfection
Instead of perfection mastering you

Jackie was a host on PLV RADIO more on her shows here. 

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Four parts to the self that are often overlooked.

An article written by our Spiritual Awakening host Jackie Mihalchick 

When you start to describe yourself, how do you do it?  There are many descriptive words that the majority seem to use in basic intros.  Words like male or female, short or tall seem to start off the description and then some will begin to go deeper and begin to define aspects of themselves with things like married, single, children, mother, father, pieces of what we outwardly appear to be.  This works when dealing in social situations, but have you ever really wondered what comprises the self?  Many may be thinking or saying…our experiences.  Sure our experiences help to mold us into who we are, but have you ever really stopped and wondered why you deal with something one way and someone else deals with it another?  We all handle situations and experiences differently some of it from lessons we have already learned, sure…but there has to be more to it.  I believe that there is more…

I believe that there are actually four primary components that make up the self.  Each one of them bringing a wealth of their own ingredients helping to really customize our personal recipe of who we are.  Check them out and let me know your thoughts!

Spirit
Ego
Love
Forgiveness

What makes up the self? Rather a funny word all on its own don’t you think?  Self…The self… Selfless.  When we use the word we instinctively know we are talking about us..ourselves but have you really thought about what that is?

We are all made up of a divine light, love and energetic matter.  But are we not so much more?  We have to be, to be as complicated as we are.  I believe the Self consists of 4 basic parts; Spirit, Ego, Love and Forgiveness.  It is a beautiful idea really.  Each of these parts are unique to us and how we give and receive, how we react and how we express ourselves.  They help express us and at times define us.  The amazing thing is that each of these areas are ever changing.

IMG_0837

Spirit: Such a big word.  Beautiful bright spirit, it is what we all are when all is stripped away.  It is what we enter this world with and what we leave with.  To be human however means we are more than just spirit.  We have to incorporate additional energetic bodies into our physical form to even exist. We are an Energetic Body, Physical Body, Mental Body and an Emotional Body to name a few.  What that means is that we bring many different aspects together to form the self.

Ego:  This word gets probably the worst rap.  Ego somewhere along the line has taken on a negative only role in the human form.  Being considered or known as egotistical is negative yes, but like anything in extremes it can be bad. We need the ego, it is needed in this lifetime.  Our human self needs the ego as part of our equation to self.  It is an integral part of helping to create the self.  It brings to the self drive, inspiration and goals. It also imparts action into the plan.

RockLove: I like to look at it as the binding agent of the self.  It holds us together, keeps us centered and connected to all the aspects of who we are, the self. It allows us to see the good in others.  It inspires us to share and create bonds and connections both inwardly and outwardly.  Love is the essential ingredient in the passion that sparks the flame of growth in our life.

Forgiveness: For some this may seem like an odd ingredient to the self.  But if you look deeper you will understand.  Forgiveness is a key part of the self, without it we could not forgive our mistakes (which there are many) we may make. It allows us to forgive others. It is what reminds us that we are human.  With forgiveness as part of the self we are able to incorporate Spirit, Ego, Love.  We are able to grow.  Forgiveness will take on many different roles in the self at different stages of our development, with out it we would not survive.

There you have it, my take of the 4 parts/ components of the self.  Take a few minutes today and think about what you would be like with out one of the four.  Do you appreciate all the parts that make you…you?  I know that we are tall the above…as well as so much more, we are infinite beings with multiple aspect of the self.  think though, what would you be with out one of the four listed above.

Namaste~

Jackie was a host our PLV RADIO HOST

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Fire rising from my soul by Jackie Van Campen

I’m not always able to express with words exactly what my soul desires to express. I get wrapped up in the intensity of what my body is experiencing and I just let the words flow. Then I share those expressions as a way to challenge those reading my words, to confront whatever it is that is struggling to come through their very soul. This poem is about burning my fears to ashes and bringing myself back to wholeness. How do you express your soul’s yearning for freedom?

1558396_641752565895494_8594627424210126536_n

Fire rising from my soul
Burning through the veils of fear
Bringing to ashes the walls of my confinement
Freeing me from the shackles of suffering

Fire that consumes my past –
That dictates where I should be
Fire that licks and destroys
The anguish within me
Liberating my heart and opening my path

Fire that dances all around me
In perfect rhythm and movement
Hypnotizing my mind and moving my body
In balanced harmony
Arousing the lioness strength
Within my heart

Fire that strengthens my calling
That leads me to my newness
Ignites my passion
And gives rise to the wise woman within – Kahlia

Fire, oh great fire
Of ancient times
Burn my soul
With your powerful flames

I walk through you
United with your light
I emerge on the other side
Skin intact
Heart aflame
Like a torch
That sets fire to fields
Burning down any remaining limitation –
Of beliefs that hold me back

I find in you my gentle voice
And yet, resounding sound
That neither frightens or is meek
It empowers and awakens
That which must crack open
In order to seed and bloom
Cleansing my soul
Purifying my senses
Bringing me to my explosion
Shattering me to pieces
Just to bring me back to my wholeness

Written By Jackie Van Campen was a host of The Writers Divine Den on PLV-RADIO.COM

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Do you sometimes feel like an observer in your own life?

By Jackie Mihalchick

Reflections and observations

I have noticed lately that I have become an observer of sorts within my own life.  Watching, listening and at times participating.  This seems to be such a new and unfamiliar time for so many of us.  This time of transformation.  We seem to be living in the moments before something happens.

Time moving forward at the same speed it has always moved, and yet I feel slightly disconnected with the flow.  This is not necessarily a bad thing…but most certainly different than the regular hustle and bustle I have been accustom to.

Since everything is a form of energy and energy is constantly moving…I believe this sense of disconnect is really a collective energetic shift. We have just gone from Spring to Summer with the Summer solstice.  This shift in our seasons affects us, we have also just experienced the longest day of the year, this seasonal planetary alignment definitely brings new energy and a new and different energetic pull to our daily lives.  This alone can cause pause in our daily routines, emotions as well as our focus both internal and external.  For many there is an increase in activity or motivation.  The sun has a way of propelling us forward.

However there is more to it for me as well as the countless of others out there feeling it. I am different.  My energy is different.  It nearly feels as if a reset button has been hit. A button that clears all customized programming, and allows one to come back to factory reset (so to speak).  Normally I would not say a factory program would be a good thing, sounds so sterile and generic.  Who doesn’t like customizing let’s say your phone or computer to fit what you like and how you use it. But what if the programming wasn’t done with what you like or how you want to use it.  What if all the programming is based on external experiences and reactions.  What if you were not the one doing the programming?  Then a reset is rather nice, wouldn’t you say?

Everything feels blank…but in a good way. Like a clean slate.   There are less reactive responses…triggers so to speak, and more acceptance to what is.  It feels as if it is the beginning of a new creation.  Time to create what you truly want versus what you once thought you wanted.  When conditioning and programming is removed or “thinned” out we are able to readjust and find our true north.  We are able to remember who we were born to be.  Not just who we became.  There is so much more then what we ever thought there was.  There is room for all of it.  Each experience is valued and cherished for what we have learned and what we have realized or awaken within ourselves.  Everything is released…yet nothing is forgotten.

When this release begins to happen, we feel different, changed, lighter.  With these emotional changes we also begin to see and feel physical changes. The more we release the higher we vibrate.  It makes sense really…we are physical beings.  We (like all energies) vibrate, but our mass is such that our ability to vibrate at the same speed and sound as spirit is next to impossible given our physical form.  Add to our physical density any and all energies we pull into or hold on to in our physical space, begins to weighs us down.  When we begin to let go of that energy or energies that are not ours or no longer serve us we allow ourselves to increase our vibration.  Back to the speed at which we were born vibrating at. This experience I believe can be felt as a symptom or ailment.  We may feel dizzy or light headed, or just off as well as unbalanced.

How many of you have just felt…under the weather, ill but not really sick?  I believe this has a lot to do with our personal vibration ( think of the “string” theory).

In this time of readjustment to the “reset” , I believe we will experience many things. Some of which will be times of confusion, peace, intense emotions, even a sense of detachment.  Or that feeling as though you are all alone and don’t “fit” in any specific group or category.  Hold strong as this is just a time of readjustment.

It is a time of finding personal balance within your four bodies.  Your spirit body, your physical body, emotional body and your mental body.  You get to customize your program based on your experiences only, not the programs created out of guilt or obligation that were imposed upon you. The key in this lifetime is finding a balance that is right for you.  There is no one size fits all.  There is no possible way for there to be. We are all unique.

So when you catch yourself on the outside looking in…take notes.  It could be a sign that your awakening to the real you.  A sign that your reset button has been pushed and you are assessing what you see.  It is in these moments…the moment before the big event, that we able to assessing where and who we really are.  Enjoy the moments…all of them.

Namaste~

Article by Jackie was a  host on PLV RADIO shows below

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Cowichan Valley Artist Offers Pope Francis an Art Piece for the Vatican

John Hood artist tree educator and garden guru has given us a piece of art for the soul

JesusLowRes

Duncan BC Canada – An artist located in the Cowichan Valley on Vancouver Island is hoping to offer Pope Francis a unique art piece to hang in the Vatican. John Hood, a gifted artist  now has the challenge of contacting the Pope through the Vatican to offer his detailed depiction of Christ.

“I found out at an early age (6), that I could draw and I never took a class in my life on how to draw, nor did I take art in school” comments John when asked about his background. Starting with HB pencil drawings, John moved to different types of pencils, oils, ink and now into a pigment pen.

“Most of my art I call Mindscapes because they are challenging to draw. When I work my pieces, I have them on my mind all the time and some of my best ideas come while sleeping. I have been told that the depiction I have used has never been seen before, and others have said it is similar to an artist from the 1500’s.”

Every year John Hood blesses various Faith Families around the world with a gift of his depiction of Christ. In turn many faith leaders and art critics have responded with expressions of gratitude.  They have also declared his art worthy of bringing to the attention of Pope Francis and the Vatican. Thus John is beginning an artistic pilgrimage nurturing the hope that a divine intervention will one day see his depiction of Christ gracing the revered corridors of the Vatican.

John continues to work on various additional art pieces including personal journey pieces, world issue and mental health. A very down to earth person of faith, John volunteers to maintain and teach school children on heritage apples at the orchard at the BC Forest Discovery Centre in his community -30-

To hear my radio interview with him go here p1510a-artist-philosopher-leaf-whisperer-dad-husband-orchardist-and-educator/

BC Anglican Bishop Logan McMenamie, Victoria BC

“stunning, very nice work, my wife loves it”

Mary Stewart, President of Mary Stewart Healthcare Inc.

” I love your piece, outstanding job. You are filled by the Holy Spirit, God Bless you.”

Leszek Barowucz, Independant Fine Art Professional, Poland

” highly labor intensive – You have immortalized him”

Gerrit Verstraete, Canadian Arts Masters Society

“impressive fine detailed work”

Erasmo Signore, Silvermine Art School, Realist Artist, New York City Area

“God has spoken to you, God has spoken to you”

Dr. Rajinder Singh Bedi, MA.  JD., UNSD., LLM, PHD, CEO Rajtech

” man had never seen The Christ depicted like this”

Hood 1CONTACT:  John Hood  

PHONE:     (250) 732-4540

EMAIL:      thegardeningguru2000@gmail.com

DATE:         March 18, 2015

agent

Tracy Hamilton

Three Point Creative

Phone: 250-416-9069

 

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Colour me Alive

Colour me Alive 

480506_382659855166696_730226629_nColour, is does rock our world. It lifts us dictates our mood and can bring us down. Colouring our world is so essential to our lives to our very embracement of living, but are we embracing the colours of our world?

Spring and summer it is so easy to live in colour, it is everywhere, on our clothes, in our environment, radiating from the sun. But people still wear black, why? What is it about black that invites so many people? What colours should we wear and why? Does colour really have an effect on our moods? Do we set the stage in how others will receive us when we wear colour?

Here are some definitions on what colours mean and you can see if how they effect us. Colour is essential in your life, in your own empowerment and in how you set your stage for others to receive you in.

If you want people to hear you, wear a colour that speaks to your truth, do not have to many patterns there as it can be distracting, high light with bold colours. When wearing a lot of colour on the body, keep your make up soft, if wear a dark or deep bold coluur make sure your lipstick is bold too.

Do not just blindly follow fashion for fashions sake, but know your own body and wear what reflects the real you. Wearing colour gives us energy, it vibrates on high frequency’s and can gives us what we need to get through out day.

If you are down, sad, please put vibrant colours around you, flowers, pictures, scarves, any thing that gives you the energy you need to be lifted. Do not wear browns blacks or bull colours when feeling ill sad or bad as it will bring you down more.

Illness can be helped with young greens, soft pinks, warm blues, pale yellows, but stay away from the  bold colours as the energy will be too high at that time. Wear a nightgown that is warm and inviting, it surrounds the body with love.

Do not wear reds, blacks, deep colours when angry as it will increase the mood. Go for the soft colours to calm you so that you may get some perspective before reacting. Do not wear colours to impress if they do nothing for you, if you do to feel right in the colour you wont look right either.

Decorating, these colours are there for a while, don’t go for fads, don’t paint a room all red blue black or any other colour that provokes an emotion. One red etc wall with soft eggshell whites or creams will look warm alive and inviting. Don’t paint your sons room all blue, but accent the walls with blue like the doors, windowsills furniture pictures. Same as the pink room, add other colours to stimulate the brain and heighten the senses.

Office space, keep it clean focused with vibrant accents, have a stimulating picture on the wall, wear colour use colour but don’t go too dark or too much as you can over sense you senses.

House colours, you do not want to be THAT house on the block, keep it clean with colour accents, window frames doors, roof window dressings, but the colour of the house paler as it makes it look bigger and cleaner so newer.

PLEASE USE COLOUR but use it in reflection of who you are what you want to say and feel.I love colour, it dictates my world, let it make you feel alive in self and in ownership of your own destination.

Here are my colour ideas plus definitions of colour analogizing.

imagesBLUEI love blue all shades deep bold and sky like vibrant. I have blue eyes and blues always make them shine. I do not like a harsh blue the cold base blue, I find it to cold. I like a warm base creamy soft welcoming. Pale of harsh blue on the walls can be very physiologically disturbing, as an accent ok but all blue no.

Blue.  Intellectual.
Positive: Intelligence, communication, trust, efficiency, serenity, duty, logic, coolness, reflection, calm.
Negative: Coldness, aloofness, lack of emotion, unfriendliness.

Blue is the colour of the mind and is essentially soothing; it affects us mentally, rather than the physical reaction we have to red. Strong blues will stimulate clear thought and lighter, soft blues will calm the mind and aid concentration. Consequently it is serene and mentally calming. It is the colour of clear communication. Blue objects do not appear to be as close to us as red ones. Time and again in research, blue is the world’s favorite colour. However, it can be perceived as cold, unemotional and unfriendly.

487317_222727351199973_104128732_nGreen as we know is the colour of healing and nature. Soft greens calm cooling the spirit and calming the senses. Green is always inviting, but I like it with something another colour to give it some definition. Green can be dull but also so vibrant with the right partner, it does make us think of the earth and all things that grow, and in that it brings us a sense of peace.

  1. GREEN.  Balance
    Positive: Harmony, balance, refreshment, universal love, rest, restoration, reassurance, environmental awareness, equilibrium, peace.
    Negative: Boredom, stagnation, blandness, enervation.

Green strikes the eye in such a way as to require no adjustment whatever and is, therefore, restful. Being in the center of the spectrum, it is the colour of balance – a more important concept than many people realize. When the world about us contains plenty of green, this indicates the presence of water, and little danger of famine, so we are reassured by green, on a primitive level. Negatively, it can indicate stagnation and, incorrectly used, will be perceived as being too bland.

311259_441492352554791_1991521896_nSo black is not the darkness we perceive it to be, and I think it is slimming. When you put colour on black it becomes the canvas for the colour to shine from. Black is serious, it means business, but with a dash of that colour can go from severe to fun very easily.

The definition of black is BLACK.
Positive: Sophistication, glamour, security, emotional safety, efficiency, substance.
Negative: Oppression, coldness, menace, heaviness.

Black is all colours, totally absorbed. The psychological implications of that are considerable. It creates protective barriers, as it absorbs all the energy coming towards you, and it enshrouds the personality. Black is essentially an absence of light, since no wavelengths are reflected and it can, therefore be menacing; many people are afraid of the dark. Positively, it communicates absolute clarity, with no fine nuances. It communicates sophistication and uncompromising excellence and it works particularly well with white. Black creates a perception of weight and seriousness.
It is a myth that black clothes are slimming:

398088_377317435698024_758599591_nOrange is our sunshine, it glows within us, cheering us up lifting us up and wrapping its glow around us to makes us feel loved. I love orange, again I like it complemented with whites, blues, pinks, greens, it makes it so alive it is life.

  1. ORANGE.
    Positive: Physical comfort, food, warmth, security, sensuality, passion, abundance, fun. 
    Negative: Deprivation, frustration, frivolity, immaturity.

Since it is a combination of red and yellow, orange is stimulating and reaction to it is a combination of the physical and the emotional. It focuses our minds on issues of physical comfort – food, warmth, shelter etc. – and sensuality. It is a ‘fun’ colour. Negatively, it might focus on the exact opposite – deprivation. This is particularly likely when warm orange is used with black. Equally, too much orange suggests frivolity and a lack of serious intellectual values.

66731_449707641766708_431696576_nPink, always innocent, but so alluring, it represents a childlike quality but also a sensuality. Soft pinks speak of infancy, of something venerable and needs protecting. But fire it up and you can have one hot Mama inviting a different tale altogether. I love pinks, hot pink, fuchsias, full deep alive pinks. Again but with browns, greens, blues, creams, white and accented by black, pink is very much alive.

PINK.

Positive: Physical tranquility, nurture, warmth, femininity, love, sexuality, survival of the species.

Negative: Inhibition, emotional claustrophobia, emasculation, physical weakness.

Being a tint of red, pink also affects us physically, but it soothes, rather than stimulates. (Interestingly, red is the only colour that has an entirely separate name for its tints. Tints of blue, green, yellow, etc. are simply called light blue, light green etc.) Pink is a powerful colour, psychologically. It represents the feminine principle, and survival of the species; it is nurturing and physically soothing. Too much pink is physically draining and can be somewhat emasculating.

chocolate-candy-4-facebook-cover-timeline-banner-for-fbI seem to wear brown a lot, I love it with creams, pinks, white, yellows, but all brown is very dull indeed. You don’t look at someone wearing brown as sensual, vibrant, or alive, but more as methodical, earthy and in danger of being dull. You know you can count of a brown wearer, but don’t look for spontaneity, I must be in my pensive moments when I wear brown.But have to admit the best brown in the world is CHOCOLATE brown. 

  1. BROWN
    Positive: Seriousness, warmth, Nature, earthiness, reliability, support.
    Negative: Lack of humour, heaviness, lack of sophistication.

Brown usually consists of red and yellow, with a large percentage of black. Consequently, it has much of the same seriousness as black, but is warmer and softer. It has elements of the red and yellow properties. Brown has associations with the earth and the natural world. It is a solid, reliable colour and most people find it quietly supportive – more positively than the ever-popular black, which is suppressive, rather than supportive.

482740_10151442592109235_98738264_nYellow, another colour I love, but not a cannery or washed out yellow. I love the deep vibrant yellow that jumps out at you to say hello. When I wear a deep rich yellow, I feel empowered, clean fresh welcoming and alive. I am clear headed and very direct in my approach in such a positive way. Again yellow worn with white, greens, creams, pinks, reds, really come alive and make a statement.

YELLOW Emotional

Positive: Optimism, confidence, self-esteem, extroversion, emotional strength, friendliness, creativity. 

  1. Negative: Irrationality, fear, emotional fragility, depression, anxiety, suicide.

The yellow wavelength is relatively long and essentially stimulating. In this case the stimulus is emotional, therefore yellow is the strongest colour, psychologically. The right yellow will lift our spirits and our self-esteem; it is the colour of confidence and optimism. Too much of it, or the wrong tone in relation to the other tones in a colour scheme, can cause self-esteem to plummet, giving rise to fear and anxiety. Our “yellow streak” can surface.

Grey, another colour I wear a lot of in the winter, I like it when I am needing to be serious, I love accented with cream white and black. It is a background colour that allows you to be the colourful person that you are.

  1. imagescatGRAY.
    Positive: Psychological neutrality.
    Negative: Lack of confidence, dampness, depression, hibernation, lack of energy.

Pure grey is the only colour that has no direct psychological properties. It is, however, quite suppressive. A virtual absence of colour is depressing and when the world turns grey we are instinctively conditioned to draw in and prepare for hibernation. Unless the precise tone is right, grey has a dampening effect on other colours used with it. Heavy use of grey usually indicates a lack of confidence and fear of exposure.

312421_459736620740466_1852137840_nRed, ahhhh reds, I am empowered by the reds, I feel deep emotionally, deep in wisdom and feel that I am being heard. Red is such a colour of life’s passion it resonates loud but controlled and dictates the mood authorially.  It is thunder it is excitement, it is lustful passion, and it is so full of life that is screams living. You can wear red with anything, white to highlight it, blacks to deepen it, creams to soften it, yellow to make it fun, and earth tones to give them depth. But when you wear reds, make sure you can carry it off, your personality must match the colour of the colour will drown you out. You want attention, red will get it, wear it strong with pride ownership and in making a statement.

  1. RED. Physical
    Positive: Physical courage, strength, warmth, energy, basic survival, ‘fight or flight’, stimulation, masculinity, excitement.
    Negative: Defiance, aggression, visual impact, strain.

Being the longest wavelength, red is a powerful colour. Although not technically the most visible, it has the property of appearing to be nearer than it is and therefore it grabs our attention first. Hence its effectiveness in traffic lights the world over. Its effect is physical; it stimulates us and raises the pulse rate, giving the impression that time is passing faster than it is. It relates to the masculine principle and can activate the “fight or flight” instinct. Red is strong, and very basic. Pure red is the simplest colour, with no subtlety. It is stimulating and lively, very friendly. At the same time, it can be perceived as demanding and aggressive.

29611_272714846185359_1244956921_nViolet like purple are colours of truth intuition and soul depth. It is another colour I wear a lot, I always feel safe in purples, it is pure, and it is honest. When I wear purple or violets, I always get a compliment, for it brings out my inner strength and opens people up to seeing my inner wisdom. I am for all my extrovert-ness in truth I am an introvert, I think in but speak out, I am completive and feel deep, so deep that some tines it is hard to come back to earth. Tis colour speaks of my soul, but reminds me there is so much more to me. Wear creams, pinks, blues, yellows with these colours, but know people will see your soul in them.

  1. VIOLET/PURPLE.  Spiritual
    Positive: Spiritual awareness, containment, vision, luxury, authenticity, truth, quality.
    Negative: Introversion, decadence, suppression, inferiority.

The shortest wavelength is violet, often described as purple. It takes awareness to a higher level of thought, even into the realms of spiritual values. It is highly introvertive and encourages deep contemplation, or meditation. It has associations with royalty and usually communicates the finest possible quality. Being the last visible wavelength before the ultra-violet ray, it has associations with time and space and the cosmos. Excessive use of purple can bring about too much introspection and the wrong tone of it communicates something cheap and nasty, faster than any other colour.

Don’t be afraid of colour, it is natures way of giving us a vibrational life. Colour is a living thing and when we embrace it we can feel alive.

Written by Sara Troy

Self Discovery RADIO.COM

Colour annalist from http://www.colour-affects.co.uk/psychological-properties-of-colours

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Birthing My Soul

HEART WISDOM
~By Jackie VanCampen * Los Angeles, CA

Another great article from Jackie Van Campen one of our Spiritual Awakenings Host.
If transition is a period of gestation, what will you birth? the-writers-divine-den

My soul belly is pregnant with possibilities
A new life
A new beginning

My heart beating
In perfect rhythm
With the heart of my soul
Like a divine symphony

Transitions from cycle of gestation
Strengthening the form I’m becoming
Cells become a heart
A body
The actualization of my essence

I tend to her with love and care
The placenta of the Mother
Nourishing the dream
Until it drops and releases
The awaited new version of myself

And there
in the eyes of the new me
I see hope
I see possibilities
I see the miracle
Of an ever loving Presence
I call Universal LOVE

I am the embodiment
Of an universal heart wisdom
And so are you

www.facebook.com/wiseheartwithin
www.wiseheartwithin.com
image: myvisionboard.com

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Asking gives you understanding not judgement.

 I came across this article on face book and think that is very important that we understand the shame of judgement. Never assume or judge without comprehension and never let looks dictate your assumption.

Oneeye_woman_ki72-vTOUCHING STORY….(An old story but always inspires me) My mom only had one eye. I hatedher… She was such an embarrassment. She cooked for students and teachers to support the family. There was this one day during elementary school where my mom came to say hello to me. I was so embarrassed. How could she do this to me? I ignored her, threw her a hateful look and ran out. The next day at school one of my classmates said, ‘EEEE, your mom only has one eye!’ I wanted to bury myself. I also wanted my mom to just disappear. I confronted her that day and said, “If you’re only gonna make me a laughing-stock, why don’t you just die?” My mom did not respond… I didn’t even stop to think for a second about what I had said, because I was full of anger. I was oblivious to her feelings. I wanted out of that house, and have nothing to do with her. So I studied real hard, got a chance to go abroad to study. Then, I got married. I bought a house of my own. I had kids of my own. I was happy with my life, my kids and the comforts. Then one day, my Mother came to visit me. She hadn’t seen me in years and she didn’t even meet her grandchildren. When she stood by the door, my children laughed at her, and I yelled at her for coming over uninvited. I screamed at her, “How dare you come to my house and scare my children! GET OUT OF HERE! NOW!!!” And to this, my mother quietly answered, “Oh, I’m so sorry. I may have gotten the wrong address,” and she disappeared out of sight. One day, a letter regarding a school reunion came to my house. So I lied to my wife that I was going on a business trip. After the reunion, I went to the old shack just out of curiosity. My neighbors said that she died. I did not shed a single tear. They handed me a letter that she had wanted me to have. “My dearest son, I think of you all the time. I’m sorry that I came to your house and scared your children. I was so glad when I heard you were coming for the reunion. But I may not be able to even get out of bed to see you. I’m sorry that I was a constant embarrassment to you when you were growing up. You see……..when you were very little, you got into an accident, and lost your eye. As a mother, I couldn’t stand watching you having to grow up with one eye. So I gave you mine. I was so proud of my son who was seeing a whole new world for me, in my place, with that eye. With all my love to you, Your mother.” the son got into tears, but it was too late. MORAL LESSON: Never neglect your MuM, Because she is a blessing. One day u will cry when she will be gone.

If you love your Mum tell her for you never know what she has done for you.

Speak her Name out load if you are proud of her.

Bought to you by  X-tian Dela

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Ask Sara about H 0 R A T I 0 M 0 U S E

Ask Sara with Sara Troy 

scan0005This is a Tribute to my Mama Joanne North who is almost 95 years old. (Jan 25th) I am so proud of her making it to 94 against so many odds. She lived through the world war 2, survived being a widow way too soon in her life, survived ill health, a feeling of insecurity and survived overcoming British shyness that stopped her from being the most wonderful talented actress of our time. She is a Mother a Grandmama and a friend and she has lived, traveled, explored and embraced life and is still very much here to tell her tales.

I was a sickly child and bed bound a lot of the time with bad Asthma, I would not have made it through the attacks if it has not her story telling that helped me to calm my breathing. She is a wonderful story teller and a wonderful woman whom I am proud to call my mother. Today she is bed bound but will still challenge you on a crossword puzzle.

I wish I could have be with you on your day dear Mama, may the Gods give me the wings I need to come and see you soon, I do not want you leaving this earth without us sharing the past joys one more time and me holding you in my arms once more telling you how much I love respect and miss you.

H 0 R A T I 0 M 0 U S E                                      

This wonderful story was written by my Mama Joanne North who is now 94 almost 95 and it has been read around the world. Share it with your children and bring out the inner child within you. We never know what we can achieve until we embrace our possibilities and dreams. 

Narrated by Jan Berney of BC Canada

The mouse that would be king
 Joanna North


 1 mouse The day was hot, almost too hot. Even the birds were too lazy to fly. Down in the docks, men were loading up a ship for the captain to catch the evening tide. The men worked slowly in the baking heat. Horatio lay back in the cool shade of a barrel and watched the men at work. He had been watching this particular ship for three days and had seen the men unload such wonderful cargo – spices, tobacco and huge sacks of ripe corn and barley. His very favourite food.

He sniffed the air. The smells of the spices made him daydream about the land that they had come from. A land Horatio felt strangely drawn to, as if it was sending out a message to him. Often Horatio dreamt about going to this place.
Somehow, he felt that he was destined to journey there and that big things awaited him; what sort of big things he did not know, but he felt sure that it was his fate to live in this far away country.

Horatio, I must tell you, was a mouse; but not just an ordinary mouse, Horatio was an extraordinary mouse. You see, Horatio could speak and understand the human language. It was this fact that gave Horatio the conviction that he was fated to be great. How; he did not know, but great all the same, one day.

The sun licked around Horatio’s face and made him close his eyes. It was exhausting watching those men work so hard. He fell fast asleep. Suddenly Horatio was wide awake – the bell had sounded for lunch. Lunch meant crumbs for Horatio, or at least it would mean lunch, if any of the sailors were tempted to come and sit and eat their sandwiches on the waterfront. Anxiously Horatio watched as two were coming his way. Horatio washed his whiskers, straightened his jacket and waited.

The sailors wandered over near to where Horatio sat and settled themselves down on some large upturned baked bean tins. Soon they were eating away and talking happily in the sun. Horatio crept nearer. He hid under some grass and waited.

His mouth watered – cheese – lovely; all he had to do was be patient.

He was just about to doze off again, when he heard one of the men say something about the ship alongside them. “Yes mate, I know this place well. Went there once – deep and dark it is. They do say that the jungle is ‘haunted. I ‘eard tell about a race of golden monkeys, lost race or something, been hunted for years. There’s talk about a lost king too. Imagine that. Yes this, ‘ere particular country is very strange. Wouldn’t go again, not if you paid me, funny country it is”.

On and on he talked, but Horatio didn’t listen anymore. He lay back under the clump of grass and daydreamed. He did not hear the lunch time bell ring again for the men to return to work and he forgot to sniff for crumbs, all afternoon he lay there dreaming.

Later, when the sun was beginning to lower over the horizon, the ship was readying to sail. Its siren sounded. Horatio awoke with a start. With a sudden realisation, Horatio now knew why he could speak the human language. He knew why fate had picked him out. He, yes he and he alone, was the chosen one – he was destined to be this king. He was so excited at his idea that he hadn’t realised that the ship was about to leave. Horatio shouted at the top of his voice: “Don’t go, I’m coming, don’t go.”

So, quickly gathering up all the crumbs left by the two men, he put them in his big red handkerchief and ran across the wharf to the ship. Whilst everyone was busy and looking the other way Horatio crept into a sack of grain. With a swoosh he was suddenly lifted into the air. Gulping with fright, Horatio found himself being lowered into a dark cavern. It was the hold. He jumped out of the grain sack just before it landed and hid behind some boxes of fruit. Up above him he heard voices calling out that all was ready to lower the hatches, and Horatio found himself shut in for the journey. It was a bit dark, but a chink of sunlight came through the top and helped him see.

Hungry now, he found grain spilt from a torn sack and collected water that trickled down a pipe that leaked into a tin left behind by some seaman. Life was good for Horatio. He settled down to enjoy the journey and to dream of the kingdom waiting there for him at the end of the voyage.

The weeks went by and although Horatio was fairly happy, it is to be confessed that he did have a twinge or two of regret – also, alas, a twinge or two of sea sickness. Our hero lay on his comfortable bed of sacks and groaned a lot as the sea heaved beneath him and wondered whether he had made a mistake. He was impatient to get to the new land. He wanted to see what his new kingdom looked like.

Finally the ship arrived at its destination and it was decidedly warmer in the hold. The hatches were opened and men swarmed into them to start the unloading. Horatio gathered together his bits and pieces and tied them up in his big red handkerchief, tidied his hair and brushed down his jacket. Then pushing his shoulders back with determination he climbed out of the hold.

The men were rushing hither and thither, carrying crates up out of the hold and putting them on the deck ready to be hoisted by cranes and swung over the side onto the dockside. Horatio was sunning himself, out of sight of the men, when it struck him that he could not understand one word these sailors and dockers were saying. He was surprised. It had not occurred to him that there was any other language than English.

He was pondering what to do when a cry went up – and here Horatio’s heart gave a lurch, he did not know the language but he knew what the men were calling – it was ‘MICE, MICE’. He was clever enough to know that only mice produce that tone of voice in men and anyway he decided that he would not bother to find out if he was right or wrong, but that he would get off the ship as quickly as he could. Horatio watched the gangplank and as soon as he saw that it was clear of men, he raced down it and kept running until he was many miles inland.

In fact he ran for about four hours and by then it was nightfall. He saw that he was in the jungle, so he found a broken tree, curled up in a hole and fell fast asleep. His last thought before closing his eyes was ‘I must… yawn, explore’.

mouse

About a mile from where Horatio had slept was a small village. It was only a handfull of huts, but lots of children and dogs played happily together in the sun.

Horatio lay in the shade all day and listened to the children talk, but at night he crept out and gathered food that had been dropped by the children. He crept nearer the huts to listen to the grown ups talk. You see Horatio was determined to learn this new human language and learn it he did. I told you that he was a very unusual mouse. He learnt also about the jungle and how to keep alive in this dangerous place. When he had learnt all he needed, he gathered up as much food as he could carry in his big red handkerchief, found a stick and tied the handkerchief on the end of it and started forth to claim his kingdom.

Days went by until Horatio felt that he had come as far into the jungle for his plan to work. So, selecting a broken log to sit on, he sunned himself and waited for his subjects to come by. First a timid buck came by. She jumped in fright at the sight of Horatio, but when he explained about being the new king, she just sighed and said: “Oh dear, what does it matter? I still get all the worry in the jungle and you don’t look as if you could save me from anyone at all. Oh dear, dear, dear,” with that she ambled away,

‘What a spineless thing she is,’ thought Horatio, ‘doesn’t she know that I can speak the human language? Well, she is of no consequence.’

mouse aA shadow loomed over Horatio. He blinked, standing over him was a huge giraffe – her eyelashes almost swept him off the log as she bent down to look at him. Horatio told her about being king and speaking the human language but she looked disdainfully at him and sniffed, Then gazing down at him with scorn, she spoke:”Humans are low people, almost as low as, as…” here she paused, “as mice.” Then she sniffed again and went away, leaving Horatio with an open mouth.

Horatio was feeling a bit downhearted about the lack of interest in his offer to be king so, as it was hot and the log was very, very comfortable, he fell asleep again. But not for long. He was awakened by such a shaking – thump, thump, thump – his log bounced up and down. Horatio clung on fast to a twig and tried to remember whether earthquakes were very frequent in the jungle; he held on with all his might. Suddenly all was still.

Horatio peeped out from under a bit of bark. There he saw a whole herd of elephants – well, if not a whole herd, at least four or five. Horatio brushed himself down, cleared his throat; then standing on the highest bit of the log, he put on his best kingly manner and said: “Ahem, my people, ahem…”

He wasn’t prepared for the reaction that followed. The nearest elephant gave a squeak and said to her friend,

“I knew I didn’t feel well today, I hear voices, dreadful voices -oh dear, I feel faint,” she waved her trunk in the air and turned quite pale. Her friends clucked in sympathy.

Horatio cleared his throat once again and started his speech: “My subjects, I want to tell you that I shall be a very good king, I shall be fair; I shall be kind but strict; I shall be wise but open to suggestions; I shall love my people and… ” he got no further, another elephant started shrieking: “I can hear voices too. Something has happened to us, we are being bewitched,” she waved her trunk in the air too and also turned to goggle.

The first elephant said: “We must keep calm, we must try and act with dignity.”

” Eek, I can hear it still, it’s horrible,” another Elephant groaned.

Horatio was furious. He danced up and down on the log and called out to them: “Here I am,” shrieked Horatio “here you idiots, on the log. Listen you stupid elephants, I’m your new king, your new king – here on the log, look you lumps of…” he got no further, for suddenly one of the elephants saw him, jumped about a yard in the air, gave a piercing scream and then rushed off.

The others didn’t wait to find out what she had seen. They took to their heels and followed her. They did not stop till they were at least fifty miles away, where they lay panting and telling each other about the monster they had seen – such terror, such horror, and what was that voice saying? Something about being king? Oh dear, they had had a narrow escape.

Horatio was very cross, these animals did not deserve him, they did not deserve such a good king as himself. In fact it was only his duty that made him stay on and try again.

But as the day went by he was more and more disappointed. Not one single animal was interested, except the snake but he had looked at Horatio with very greedy eyes – so greedy in fact, that Horatio thought it better to disappear down a deep hole in the log until the snake grew tired of waiting and went away. After he had gone, Horatio thought that it was very wrong of a future subject to look at his king that way.

Horatio was about to give up when he heard a chuckle near him. He peered around and saw a hyena sitting there laughing his head off. When Horatio enquired whether he could share the joke, the hyena rolled onto the ground, held his sides with laughter and between laughs he said:

“So, you’re going to be the new king, ha ha, ho ho ho.”

Horatio was annoyed, “Yes I am.” he said.

The hyena laughed even louder, Horatio was even crosser. “What’s so funny about that?” he asked,

The hyena rolled around and in between laughs he said: “Have you told the king lion yet?”

“King lion? Why, noooo…”

“This is going to be funny” said the hyena, ‘Oh my my, ha ha, ho ho, I can’t wait to tell him.” So laughing louder than ever, he ran off into the jungle.

Horatio sat on the log and thought that the animals in the jungle were ungrateful. ‘They don’t deserve me,’ he thought ‘they only want…’ Horatio quailed – from the jungle came a mighty roar. Turning quite white with fear Horatio tried to make himself invisible. Then out of the jungle came the mighty lion.

“Where is he? Where is this upstart that thinks he can be king? Where is this cheeky mouse who dares to try and take my throne from me? Come out, come out, come here at once.”

With knees knocking and teeth chattering, Horatio crawled out of his hole. With as much bravery as he could muster, he stood on the highest part of the log and with an even squeakier voice than usual, he said: “You mean m.m.mmm…me?”

“Yes you,” roared the lion. Then he stopped roaring and came up to Horatio, looking at him very intently. He said, in a very sarcastic voice: “I hear that you fancy yourself as king. Now tell me, why should you feel that you are qualified for that post, tell me that, eh?”

Horatio was relieved that the king lion was going to be so kind and reasonable. He stood straighter and taller, then with confidence he began:
“It’s like this your er, er lionship, I can speak the language of men, the human language.”
The lion waited for Horatio to say more, then when he saw that Horatio was finished he was flabbergasted.

“Is that all?” he asked Horatio.

“All? All?” protested Horatio. “Can you speak it? No, you can’t, none of you can, so that makes me cleverer than all of you, so…’ he suddenly stopped and Horatio started shaking for king lion was slowly turning purple with rage, his whole body was drawing up to its full height.

“Cleverer? Why you, you upstart, how dare you? Why with one swipe of my paw I could send you to the moon, then what good would your human language do you there, eh? Tell me that, eh?” He lifted his huge paw and pointed, “Go, go,” he said “Go, before I knock you back to where you came from, go.”

Horatio went, tail between his legs. He felt that perhaps it wasn’t quite the right time to claim his throne; in fact, he did not stop running until the sound of the lion’s roars could not be heard.

It was many hours later when Horatio stopped running. He was very tired and just could not go on, so when he saw a stream he thankfully lay down and drank deeply from the spring water. Then he crept under a rock by the edge of the water and fell fast asleep, he was exceedingly tired.

When Horatio awoke, he saw that the stream lay at the foot of some big mountains. Here the jungle was not so dense and all down the side of the mountain were rocks, like steps all the way up. Horatio thought he might was climb to find out where he was.

Hours later, exhausted he reached a ledge nearly at the top and here Horatio spied a cave, still some way above him. ‘I’ll make my home there’ thought Horatio. This will probably safe from lions. He was very sad – his situation wasn’t good. All the animals had rejected him and he felt so full of misery; he would have made a good king; he would havs been wise and fair. He sighed, he didn’t know what a king did when he wasn’t wanted as king.

There was a soft tug on his arm. Thinking it was the lion that had caught up with him, he jumped in fright and turning round to meet his doom, he saw a small golden monkey standing by his side. The monkey was looking at him with astonishment and wonder.
“My goodness,” said Horatio “how beautiful you are.”Then he was amazed, for on hearing his words the monkey started crying.
mouse 1

“Why,” said Horatio, “What is the matter? I said you were beautiful. I didn’t say you were ugly”.

With that the monkey cried all the more, Horatio was bewildered.

“You see, that’s the trouble,” wailed the monkey, “it’s because we are so beautiful that we are hunted so.”

“Hunted?” asked Horatio, horrified anyone could harm such a beautiful creature.

“Yes, we are all nearly finished now; there is only a few of us left, It’s our fur – we are hunted for our golden fur – we don’t know what to do. Won’t you help us?”

The monkey wailed on and on, puddles of tears were pooling at his feet. “This won’t do, Goldie. (He’d decided to call him Goldie because he was certain Goldie would become his new best friend). “We must think of something to save you all, perhaps…” he got no further for from behind the rocks there came such screaming and crying.

“They are coming, they are here. The hunters are coming, hurry everybody, fly. ” A voice shouted out. Out of the spaces behind the rocks came the rest of the golden monkey’s friends and cousins.

Horatio was horrified – how could humans do this? He liked humans, or he used too. Quickly he looked about him, then he remembered the cave he had chosen for his home. Not stopping to think, he yelled to Goldie to round up all his friends and to follow him.

In their blind panic, they did as they were told and Horatio led them further up the mountain side. The monkeys were faster than Horiatio and his new friend Goldie carried him as he pointed the way. Behind them, the hunters, seeing what had happened, gave chase.

Up and up they went, until at last the cave was reached. Telling all the monkeys to go as far back into the cave as they could, Horatio told them that he could speak the human language, so he would creep out and hide to find out what the humans were going to do.

Goldie kept watch by the entrance while Horatio wriggled down to the path that the human people would take to reach the cave. He got as close as he could and listened hard. The hunters openly discussed how they would catch the stupid monkeys and how much they would make for each skin. Horatio was horrified. He had to save the monkeys.

When Horatio returned, he was greeted by the news that they had found another way out of the cave. It led up to the top of the mountain and the younger ones were eager to start at once. Horatio stopped them. His heart was heavy with sorrow – he had sad news to tell. In silence the monkeys heard how Horatio had listened to the humans laughing about the way the monkeys had gone into the cave. They knew about the other tunnel that led up to the top, so they were going to blast the entrance this end, then wait the other end with nets. The monkeys were frightened and furious. Some even accused Horatio of being in league with the hunters, but Goldie came to his defence and said that it was just bad luck; anyway he had saved them from rushing up through the other tunnel.

But what to do? That was the question. It was unthinkable to go up the other tunnel that only led to their doom, so they sat and waited for Horatio to tell them what to do next. There were new noises outside. Then voices were heard and laughter. All the hunters were happy, thinking that they had the monkeys in the nets already. Their laughter sounded so cruel to Horatio.

“Quick, hurry,” said Horatio “get back down the cave as far as you can go, then lie flat behind any rock you can find. Hurry, they are going to blast now. Everybody get down.”
All rushed down the slope of the back of the cave and lay still with trembling hearts as they waited for the dynamite to explode. There was a huge bang. Rocks went flying through the air, dust swirled around the cave and everyone was covered. It got into their eyes and their throats but they never moved. Horatio signalled to everyone to keep as still as … well mice.

At last the rumbles died away, the dust settled, all was still – so still that Horatio could feel their fear. He thought he knew what had happened; the hunters had used too much dynamite in their eagerness to get the monkeys, so now, horrors, both exits were blocked and there wasn’t a way out. All was still, so still that Horatio could feel the fear and hatred of the monkeys for him. He tried to speak, but his mouth felt dry with shame. He had led the monkeys here to die. In his great eagerness to be king, he had led these poor monkeys to their deaths.

He crept further down into the back of the tunnel. Down, down he went, until he could go no further. He huddled against the rock wall and put his head in his hands and wept.

Suddenly he felt an arm going around him, and a soft voice said: “Don’t cry Horatio, don’t cry, You did your best, Anyway I prefer to die here with you than die in the hunters’ nets. Hush, hush, hush, don’t cry, we are together.”

So saying, Goldie, for yes it was Goldie, stood right next to Horatio and held his hand, Horatio stopped crying; if his friend, Goldie, could be so brave, then he must be also. So, wiping his nose with his big red handkerchief and blowing hard to clear all the tears, he stood up straight. Smiling with all the courage he could muster, he said quietly: “Thank you my friend,”

Standing close together waiting for the end, Goldie’s teeth started to chatter with cold so he wrapped his arms around his body, but still he shivered. He asked Horatio:
“Are yyyou cccold too?”

Horatio was puzzled. He felt such a draught coming through the rocks that he felt all up and down the wall. Then giving such a whoop of joy that Goldie nearly jumped out of his skin, he caught hold of Goldie and said: “It’s a crack, a crack in the wall. Quick Goldie, help me scrape a hole big enough to squeeze through, I’m going to explore.”

So the two friends scratched and scraped. Finally there was room for Horatio to squeeze through. He couldn’t believe what he saw on the other side. Popping his head out again, he excitedly told Goldie that on that side of the wall was a tunnel and he was going to see how far it went. Goldie must stay put by the crack to guide him back to the right spot; he must not move at all, but wait till Horatio returned, Goldie agreed to do this. So with a quick wave of his hand Horatio disappeared. Goldie called to the others to wait with him. He knew they would need to know that at least there was a chance of escape.

“The mouse has gone to find a way out. We must wait.”

The others muttered that they thought the mouse had run away, but Goldie told them. “sniff the air. It’s fresh, the mouse will find a way for us. He has to.”

It must have been about half an hour later that Horatio returned and Goldie and the rest were very glad to see him. Anxiously they waited to find out what Horatio had found.

“I’ve found it, I’ve found a way out.’”

Horatio was so excited he could hardly keep his feet on the ground and he danced up and down with delight. He stood on a piece of rock and waited for the hubbub to die down. When there was silence, he looked at all the faces watching him and waiting to hear about this miracle. “My friends, I led you here to this cave and I thought that I was saving your lives. The hunters think we have all been buried alive in this cave; that is good my friends because I you will never have to fear the hunters again.”

All the monkeys started chattering at once, but Horatio held up his hand for silence,
“Beyond this mountain, down through the tunnel behind this wall, lies a valley. A valley sweet with green grass and trees, there’s fresh water that streams run through a golden sunny valley. It is surrounded by high mountains and this tunnel is the only entrance, so, you see, we will be safe. My friends, I will lead you to this valley but before I do so, I would like to ask you all a question. I want you all to vote on it. The question is this my friends: Will you let me be your king?”

The monkeys were silent. Suddenly one of them, a very wise old monkey, stepped forward, “If we say no, will you leave us here in this cave to die?”

Horatio was horrified.

“Leave you here? Uh no, no.” he said, “If you don’t choose me as your king I will still lead you out, but I shall be lost, for it was to be king that fate sent me over the waters. If I am not king, I do not know what to do.”

The same wise monkey spoke again.

“Listen my fellow monkeys, Horatio mouse is kind and clever. If he had not known how to speak the language of the hunters we would have been dead by now. He is also very unselfish; he would still lead us out of this mountain, even if we did not want him as our king. I,for one, cannot reject him. I vote for ‘yes, Horatio as our king.”

One by one the monkeys voted until all had finished, There was a small silence then an almighty roar, Goldie gave a whoop of joy and then called for three cheers for their new king. All had voted ‘yes’ and all looked at Horatio with love and pride. The cheers rang out again and again, but Horatio stopped them at last, He told them that there was lots of work to do before they reached their new home. Rock had to be moved to make the tunnel big enough for all the monkeys to get through.

“To work, to work my people, then you will see your own golden valley.”

Oh how hard they worked! If they got tired, Horatio told them about the lovely valley ahead. So all kept up their courage and worked until at daybreak they finally reached the end of the tunnel.

There was a rush to see this wonderful place. Young monkeys jumped up and down with happiness and everyone stood and gazed at the most beautiful valley in the world. All Horatio had told them was true: trees were full of fruit, the water in the streams was sweet to drink and, what was the most important thing of all, they were safe, safe for ever and ever.

Tears of joy flowed with cries of joy, Horatio had brought them to a ‘ kingdom like no other kingdom in the world’, forevermore all monkeys will love and honour their king Horatio.

Time went by and homes were built. Also a lovely palace for Horatio, big enough for his friend, Goldie, to live there too – for every king must have a friend. The wise old monkey he made Prime Minister and he in his turn picked other wise monkeys to be in his Cabinet so that they could make wise laws.

All were happy. Al1 the monkeys agreed that Horatio was the best king that any country could have. As for Horatio, he was just the king he said he would be; he was wise, fair and good. He even started a school so all the young ones could learn of the world he had seen.

Life went on, everyone was happy and settled until one day a small monkey came running to the palace to say that he had seen some dragons …, but that’s another tale.

mouse THE END
© 2006 Joanna North/Illustrations Carol Duffet.  Joanna North has told these Mouse King stories over the years to many children around the world and children everywhere always want to hear more. She has just turned 94 and wanted to share her stories of Horatio with kids on the web. If you tell this story to a child, don’t forget who wrote it. She’d love to hear from the children. Contact mepositiveliving@outlook.com and it will be forwarded to her.
She has also written about Embracing the Golden Years.  http://www.hackwriters.com/GoldenAge.htm

 

More on Sara and her Positive Living Vibrations shows go to positive-living-vibrations/

Upcoming and past shows and more on Sara go to /ask-sara/

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A Father’s Anger and Birth Love


by Bill McCracken

People say that Leilah seems to be on some kind of self-edification crusade to press her views on the rest of the world… and that is a correct assumption to make. Only through her finally experiencing a free and natural birth has her own awareness to the misguided plight of institutional birthing women become actualized, and she has she began to speak up- and for this I applaud her. Yes, Leilah writes in a very personal way- her openness, frankness, and honesty is what is making other women open up and tell their stories. All in an effort to help heal birth and to educate the unwary before these thing can happen to them. This was why “Birth Love” was created.

409482_10151157495065475_196789950474_22872141_1634854334_nAnd as a result of the work that she has done, many women around the world have begun to speak up and start to question the medical system about childbirth. As I always told Leilah, her hospital births were nothing compared to what many women are subjected to in a hospital birth- many of the stories that have been forwarded to her bear the true extent of the exploitative birthing model the medical profession subscribes to. Now, thanks to Leilah’s work, women are only just beginning to believe their birthing experiences even matter- for many this is too late. Often, women tell her their painful birth stories, only to apologize for even talking about it afterwards; believing that it is not that important, blindly believing that this the way it is and accepting it. Falsely believing that the dehumanization and humiliation that they went through was childbirth- after all, they ended up having a healthy baby.

So many women have such bad births because when they are admitted into hospitals, they sign away all rights to their own bodies. Getting the baby out, in any way, is considered the hospital’s primary objective. And hospitals do it very well. So well that women are made to think that their own health and enjoyment of the birth process doesn’t matter, that a healthy baby at the end of it all is all that matters. In two of my six births doctors even said to me that even if my wife died by the end of the births, but I had healthy babies, that I should consider myself a lucky man- that the ends justified the means. And this is why women suffer so much in institutionalized birthing: because they don¹t matter as much as the bouncing babies at the end of it all.

There are some very good people in the medical profession. The problem is that there are very few of them. The majority of medical professionals believe that childbirth should treated like an assembly line process and that the process is more important than the people. And even though mothers and babies are hurt as a result of the process, no one knows how much it hurts fathers to see their wives be wounded in such an incredibly invasive way… We are not domesticated cattle (mind you from what I’ve seen, they seem to receive better medical treatment than we do). I saw the way in which they extracted our second baby out of my wife¹s belly nine years ago, and I still feel the inner rage build when I think of the pain my wife went through, and how my son only wanted to be with his mother and nurse just after he was born- but was delayed by how long it took to sew and staple her up before they could finally bond. I was left shackled and bound, incapable of helping either of them. The doctors and nurses were ushering me around making me feel like an unwelcome intruder at the birth of my own child.

What gets my ire the most is the deception that they swayed us into believing- that my son was a Frank breech, which- according to many- is the easiest kind of breech to deliver vaginally. Before we consented to having the section the OB had told us that he was in a transverse lie- this was the main reason we went with
the c-section in the first place. We only found out about the true nature of the breech when we summoned Leilah’s medical records eight years after the birth. For more good reading you should summon your own medical records and see what the medical profession had to say about you- Leilah’s records provided us with many hours of interesting reading.

The c-section was not without incident either- but at least I was able to help Leilah avoid a general anesthetic. After four failed attempts at trying to use an epidural catheter, I suggested using a spinal. Epidurals ones didn’t work on Leilah- but all the doctors all thought it was a crazy idea until it worked! At least I was able to do that much for her.

Doctors must learn restraint and to leave birth alone. It is not their job to meddle in this most personal and private event. I want all medical birth “professionals” to know that fathers are tired of seeing their wives needlessly interfered with by doctors and nurses in childbirth, and our tolerance and blind acceptance of this behavior is growing very thin. These are our lovers and our most intimate friends, delivering OUR babies, and sharing in OUR births… the time is coming where fathers will unite to stand up for their rights as the loving protectors of childbirth.

I have grown very weary from listening to the “Birthing Experts”, and their superior egocentric view of childbirth. I normally reserve my thoughts and opinions as they are very personal and private things, but- doctors, nurses, midwives, medwives- you must all change your views of childbirth. Childbirth is a most sacred event that is shared between two individuals, as such you must respect it. As you all may know, I have had six children with Leilah, and to the best of my recollection I don’t ever remember anyone being
present when we were enjoying the intimate encounter that started us on any of our six journeys. I don’t remember doctors or nurses scurrying in and out of our bedroom taking our temperature, or hooking us up to some monitoring device to see how we were progressing- it is just a fact of life- it happens!  During the pregnancy we were also left pretty much on our own- enduring to subjection of the occasional medical checkup, and that was it. Then comes the birth and everything gets thrown into a whirlwind of unreality.

Birth, as in the act of procreating, is a very sensual and erotic experience. Birth is a fact of life, and it is going to happen in its own way, and under its own power. It is the ultimate culmination of human
sexuality and sensuality. It is something that is to be shared intimately between the loving partners- without any interference from outside parties- it must be allowed to ripen and blossom on it’s own- naturally! So for my next birth there will be no one to rob me of being a part of and experiencing MY birth the way it was intended to be experienced. This is not to say that we will not take preventative measures in case of an emergency- but next time no one will interfere- no doctor, nurse, midwife- no one period! Birth is a fact of life- not a late twentieth century medical marvel.

I don’t openly share my thoughts or feelings with people. I’m a very private person- my deepest opinions I share only rarely, even with my wife. So what I’m saying here may be a surprise to everyone- even to her…

BIO: Bill McCracken is one of the co-founders and developers of the BirthLove Web site. The site was set up in 1999 by Leilah McCracken to raise awareness of the plight of women and childbirth in North America.
It has since evolved into a sounding board for women on an international level- raising public awareness to the need of the immediate restoration of women’s rights in the choices for childbirth: the right to choose how, with whom, where, and when we give birth is the inalienable right of the mother and partner, and not that of government nor medical institutions.

SADLY THIS SITE IS NO LONGER OPERATIONAL WHICH IS A LOSS TO WOMEN AND FAMILIES GLOBALLY BUT BILL IS STILL A ADVOCATE FOR NATURAL CHILD BIRTH.

http://smokndawg.com/

Bill Mackie’s shows

 

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