The Way You Sing It --by Gary Zukav

~The late, great Michael Hedges - There will never be another like you~

A friend took a trip to New Orleans after Katrina. He is a jazz musician and singer. He has been most of his life, and he feels that jazz is the greatest thing that has happened in America. Playing in a club with local musicians, he was invited to join the second line of a funeral the next day – a gig that paid him $150, some food, and another chance to play the jazz he loves.

The first line in a New Orleans funeral is the mourners. They grieve, cry, and remind everyone of what is happening. The second line is the musicians. They begin the procession with a dirge, stopping at clubs and bars along the way where they are fed and given drink. As the procession continues, the dirge slowly morphs into an unabashed celebration. “It’s the same song!” he exclaimed.

A Little Friday Fun! A Life of Illusion, Video w/and by Joe Walsh

Joe Walsh - Life Of Illusion by jpdc11

The Surprise Party Grief Threw --by Alysia Reiner

I am feeling fabulous. I am having the time of my life: starring in my first play in LA, guest starring on a great TV show at the same time, talking to the writer about making the play I am doing into a screenplay, my husband is on a great TV show, we have wonderful friends, family, life -- I feel on top of the world. Maybe I can have it all.

My Dad comes to visit. He complains of a backache. I take him to my fabulous massage therapist (who is even covered by health insurance), he is revitalized and we think nothing of it.

A week later, I am flying back to NYC to sleep in his hospital room for a few days before I bury him. He is 55. It's less than two weeks from diagnosis to death. Surprise!

From the moment my Dad died, from the moment I found out there was the possibility of his dying, there were many surprises -- years after, minutes after. The moments I was okay were as surprising as the ones that I wasn't.

Stories on Kindness and Anger --from the Native American and Buddhist Traditions

Deer Medicine -- A Native American Teaching as told by Joe Johnston

The story is told of a terrible monster that was angry and cruel to everyone. Its trick was to never attack first, but if attacked, it killed!

It was so mean, it provoked every animal into attacking, and in a fight it would kill them all. Even if they came in peace, it would be so mean to them, they got mad and attacked it. It killed many animals. Snake tried to poison it, wolf tried to tear it with its teeth, bear tried to hit it with its mighty paws. But the monster was so terrible it killed them all.

Finally, deer approached the monster with nothing but gentle kindness. No matter what the monster did or said, deer only responded with kindness and good will. The monster became madder and madder. Still, deer was gentle and kind. At last the monster became so angry, it attacked itself, and died.

The Gift of Anger; Turning Arrows into Flowers –A Story of the Buddha

A man of Brahmin-jat became enraged hearing of the Buddha’s teachings and by those coming into his fold. In anger he sought to confront the Buddha. The man raged and exhorted expletives at the Buddha.

Letting Go of The Ladder --by Lisa Ernst

My dear friend, Lisa Ernst, Facilitator of One Dharma Nashville, wrote an excellent article that I have permission to share.  This speaks beautifully to our meditation discussion last evening.  I hope you enjoy this from a wonderful communicator and teacher.  -ACOF Administration

"To a mind that is still, the whole universe surrenders" ~Lao Tzu

On a recent visit to Colorado, I enjoyed a hike with my two teenage nieces to a place outside of Boulder called Mattress Rock. My oldest niece, Mary Katherine, had recently spent the night camping at the top of this rock and she wanted to show us the view. When we arrived, I saw the top was quite high and completely inaccessible through climbing. But a ponderosa pine was fairly close to the rock, and my niece said that's how she and her friends had gotten up.

Lessons From a Wheelchair: Treat Your Body With Compassion --Dan Gottlieb, Ph.D.

The author, with his Grandson, Sam

It's been seven months since I last wrote a column for The Huffington Post. I've got a good excuse.

As my readers know, I've been in a wheelchair for 30 years, paralyzed from the chest down. And although I don't have use of my hands, I've always had good function in my arms. Seven months ago, that changed. I was going down a black unlit ramp in my wheelchair when suddenly my wheelchair took a tremendous lurch and I was flung forward into space. (What I couldn't see in the darkness was that the ramp ended in a step.) As I was thrust from my wheelchair, I landed on my head and neck, causing substantial injury.

Eckhart Tolle on Peace After a Loss

"A culture that denies death inevitably becomes shallow

and superficial, concerned only with the external

form of things. When death is denied, life loses its depth." 

~Eckhart Tolle

 

Questioner: My sons drowned in the sea ten months ago. I did surrender, but when I felt the peace and calm coming over me, it felt wrong. It was not right to feel peace and calm with such a loss.

Eckhart Tolle: The natural way of being after death of a loved one is suffering at first, then there is a deepening. In that deepening, you go to a place where there is no death. And the fact that you felt that means you went deep enough, to the place where there is no death. Conditioned as your mind is by society, the contemporary world that you live in, which knows nothing about that dimension – your mind then tells you that there is something wrong with this. Your mind says “I should not be feeling peace, that is not what one feels in a situation like this”. But that’s a conditioned thought by the culture that you live in. So instead we can recognize when this happens, when that thought comes – recognize it as a conditioned thought that is not true.

"Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep"

"Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow

I am the diamond glint in snow

I am the sunlight on ripened grain

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you wake in the morning hush

I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circling flight

I am the soft starlight at night

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there, I do not sleep."

~Attributed to several, including Mary Elizabeth Frye. This poem appeared later as an epitaph at the gravesite of Quanah Parker, Quashadi Comanche Chief-1852-1911~

In Memory of Tsali (2/2/73 - 9/7/11)