Guest Post by Gloria Lionz
I attended a leadership conference in Vermont in June. It took me 29 hours to reach my final destination. Yes, I ‘flew’ there but the ‘schedule’ changed according to Spirit (not as advertised by the airline carrier). Chalk this TIRING EXPERIENCE up to Holy Spirit’s ‘way’ of arranging things for me to meet an entirely different group of people; sharing heart-to-heart stories as well as commiserating about mutual travel challenges.
Guest Post by Dennis Ernst
I recently made a visit to the Another Face of Mexico Mask Museum in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. It was a huge, private collection of over 500 masks, from the 35 historic cultures in Mexico and Central America. The masks were used in rituals, dances, cultural celebrations, and were part of the collective identity.
The concept of the masks haunted me. The need to become something other that what we are, and imbue them with special powers, to feel like they were something greater than their ordinary life. This is a story of creating an identity and wearing it like a mask.
Guest Post by Jim Jackson
On Friday afternoon I had a checkup appointment with Dr. Edward Chang, an oncologist and hematologist. I was seeing him for the latter purpose—not for cancer treatment.
Since my first appointment with my new PC physician and her concern with a slightly low reading in my platelet count, I’ve seen Dr. Chang on four separate occasions now, each time with a three-month extension from my recheck. Next time is a year from now.
By Michael Avery
I’m sure you’ve heard the question, “What is this painting saying to you?”
I always passed it off as merely a metaphor asked by a salesperson in an art gallery intent on making another sale. But recently I had a realization that revealed a deeper, hidden meaning of the question.
By Michael Avery
A footbridge near the source of the North Umpqua sent for an eagle. “Please carry this question to the bridge near the river’s mouth for me,” he requested.
“We have grown old together, yet our destinies have kept us apart. Please ask my friend what great lesson he has learned from life.”
Guest Post by Dennis Ernst
Remember, we are beings of light, fragments of the One Great Spirit in action.
Remember, we came to bring light into darkness.
Guest Post by Gloria Lionz
“When an insight lands in a dream, repeats itself even after waking from a dream, going back to sleep & hearing the same message, it’s evident Spirit wants me to do something with that ‘urgent’ message. With zero concern for ‘what time of day’ Spirit speaks, I now have a simple option that honors the ‘gift’ while helping me get the rest I need. I jot down any phrase and/or highlights and title in a notebook I keep bedside. Then, when I’m fully awake, I sit down at my computer and record the “rest of the message.”
Guest Post by Dan P.
Years ago, I decided to become a member of a spiritual path which claimed to have a Living Teacher. This path taught that its spiritual master is always with me, and that by practicing various spiritual exercises on a regular basis, I could maintain a deep connection with that master and the Universal Consciousness that was everywhere and in all things. So, I diligently practiced these spiritual exercises a couple of times each day.
After several months, during one of my contemplations, I found myself wondering how much of what I had been taught about this new path was true. Was this “supposed” spiritual master truly always with me? Why not ask? I thought to myself.
By Michael Avery
A Prophetic Waking Dream
Some memories follow us throughout our lives. Often it’s because they are waiting for us to realize what they’ve been trying to tell us. In this book, we’ve called these “Waking Dreams in Retrospect.” But butterflies must wait for caterpillars to break through their cocoon, no matter how long the process takes.
Since the late 80’s, one fond memory has kept recurring. After examining it, I lovingly return it to its special place among other potentially valuable treasures from days-gone-by.
Guest Post by Dennis Ernst
The sky is just beginning to warm above the eastern mountains. Wisps of clouds catch the first colors of the sunrise, painted against a deep blue-black expanse of night sky. I walk in silence, breathing the rich desert air, absorbed in the fullness of the moment.
There was a time when I would sing HU — an ancient word for God or spirit, sometimes called a love song to the divine. This is a way to connect with my inner worlds and my true self. For a deaf man who cannot hear his own voice, trying to sing to yourself is a bit comical. Over time, I worked with something inward, a resonance, that felt more than heard. Eventually, that too fell away. Not lost — outgrown, the way a shell is outgrown.
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