Not Alone

     There are times in everyone's life, when there seems like there is no light at the end of
the tunnel.  There is depression, anxiety and worry.  Meher Baba said, "don't be depressed
about your depression..."  There is much more to that quote, but it really makes sense. 
     Many times we worry about being depressed, like it might not be alright, that maybe something is really wrong.  We can feel fearful about it.  I think this is what Baba means.  Feelings are not facts.  If we can just be with what is and not resist, it would be a lot easier.  "Resistance is futile..."  Remember from Star Trek and the Borgue.
     There is an ebb and flow to life.  When one door closes, another opens.  When we lose a friend, we can make new ones.  People are fickle and the fickle friends who are fair
weather are not worth having.  Love is unconditional period, and no other love is real.  That is what I believe.
     So, next time you feel down, try to cheer up or cheer someone else up.  Call someone to see how they are.  Do something nice for someone.  It is OK to feel down.  No one is tip top condition all the time.  No one.  If you feel abandoned or unloved and alone, that is OK too.  It is a challenge to be alone, but it is also an accomplishment to be able to be alone and independent.  Some people never have that challenge and never find themselves truly, because they have to be an appendage.  Trust your gut most of all, because your decisions are for a reason.  They may feel bad and wrong, but you would not have made that decision if there were not a reason.  It is your reason and you know it.  Do not put yourself down.  Love yourself.  
     We are never alone.  We have ourselves and God.  Love is paramatma, infinite, beyond measure, and that love is within.  God is within and only within.

Hidden Angels

      I have been thinking that I might start giving intuitive advice, not

for money, maybe love offerings only if it is affordable to the individual.  I used to consult psychics.  I actually payed them money, until the money was gone, not due to the psychics but for the reasons I was calling about.  Eventually, Helen my psychic, said to me, "you are in the gutter now."  She had predicted this state, but I had not heeded her advice.

     Now many years later and a lot of 'shit' happening, I know human 

nature as well as Helen did.  Yet, still I am vulnerable and can only fuddle along in my own life, knowing what little I do know.

     I believe in angels, not just angels in heaven and in the cosmos, but

earthly angels.  I mean earthly for all we know.  

     I was at the health food store today, eating at the counter.  There were a couple of very friendly women at different intermittent times.   One was named Diana.

    I was telling Diana about, (she had asked me if I was dating anyone) the fact that the man who has been in and out of my life the most in the past years, is dying.  I told her that I felt I had been cold because after being a caregiver, I blew him off because he was putting me and my family down.  Ever so often I want to pick up the phone and say "I am sorry I was cold..."

     Something in me has prevented this.  The old me would have done anything to avoid real or imagined abandonment and if you know psychology as you think you might, you could diagnose me right there.

     Diana said, "you don't need to be abused."  I keep holding to what 

she said.  I feel that Diana is an angel in my life.  I want to be an angel in the life of others too. 

     If I am to expand my psychic endeavor, I will not charge money.

If I am wrong and even destructive at worst God forbid, I would not want anything, and even if one were to find total happiness from my interpretation, I would not want a thing.  The fact that someone found happiness would be enough to make me happy and prosperous.

A. Lincoln and Other U.S. Presidents

     I am listening to one of A. Lincoln's biographies. 
I think if they were to make another film about him, Lium Neilson should play him. 
    Truthfully I got a bit bored and have taken a break to listen to Stephen King's autobiography, but I realize what an important president Lincoln was and how interesting, so intend to finish this book however long, twenty-five to go to be exact.
     President Obama said that he modeled himself after President Lincoln and President Reagan as well.  It is interesting how back one-hundred years ago the Republicans were the good guys, and the Democrats were the bad guys who wanted slavery.
    It is amazing how immoral some of our presidents have been, like Thomas Jefferson who wrote The Declaration of Independence,
they say sold his own daughters.  I am not totally sure this is true, but when I was nine and visiting my aunt in New York City, I overheard her and my uncle talking about this at the dinner table with their guests.  Well, if I was at the table I was not overhearing it, but of course what I mean is that I had nothing to contribute.  I just remember eating artichoke dipping it in lemon butter sauce, leaf by leaf, the way I make it now.
     Back to Lincoln, I find this tall man a very interesting person in history.  He would get very depressed in the early days and say that if it could go around to everyone, everyone would be sad, at least in so many words.
     Back to other presidents, I find it interesting that so many African Americans are named Washington, and I have never met a white person with that name.  That says a lot.  A close friend who is African American pointed out this to me, and Jefferson as well.
     Some people do not believe Lincoln really freed the slaves.  I used to be a history major a long time ago, and I am going to do the research and find out exactly what went on.  Of course this is all the past, but still interesting.  My brother told me that I look like Mary Lincoln, A. Lincoln's wife, so maybe I am the reincarnation.  Just kidding.

When My Dear

It is the night when I feel you most near,
when the moon breaks through like one droplet your tear,
Not when the birds sing by dawn's light,
nor my empty insight,
from meditating in the hollowness of my soul.


It is by evening candle light that I am drawn to you,
the glare of the day evaporates all hope that is new,
As if it were vanished from my view.


Tell me Dear, when did I become so empty,
so careless, so fearless, so nothingness,
when sight came in to claim itself within and less without, losing sight of it all,
every star and every bird so lovely?


When did I become this way, intolerant,
raging wars, fighting love, warding off light?
Lord, You prepare a table in the presence of my enemies, and yet where are you now?
I will utter that prayer when life is turbulent,
and I will ask You for deeper insight,
For if I am unable to love, then teach me how.

Making Indian Food in the U.S.A.

     Since my son returned from India Amartiti
2010, he has enjoyed cooking Indian food.  I 
usually just cook the rice, usually white rice, 
because brown rice takes an hour and a lot
more water if you do not have a pressure
cooker.
     These days major grocery stores like 
BILO, have a paste for making curry chicken
as well as one for making curry lamb.  I suppose if you were a vegetarian, you could
substitute meat with tofu and or vegetables.
I have always felt that eggplant makes a good
substitute for meat in some dishes, although
some Baba people say eggplant is something
Baba said was not good for you.  It was not some kind of order, because there are no Baba food orders, but possibly being a night shade vegetable it may not be good for those with arthritis.  
     To make doll, cook lentils a long time, but not too much water and add cumin, curry, plain yogurt.  Cilantra is a good additive as well when cooking Indian food, even though some do not like the taste.
     To make the reita, just chop cucumber and or carrots very fine and add to yogurt with cumin, curry and cilantra.  
     Most major grocery stores carry Indian breads like delicious garlic naan now in the bakery deli section.
     For chai, just brew tea with milk, sugar and cardimin.  I think that just about somes it up.  Bon apetit.  If you really want to make a good impression, red carnations are a nice touch.  And, remember to pick up mango or 
garlic chutny or both in the Indian section of the international food section where the curry paste is near the kosher section usually.

Bohemian Artists and a Little Baba Story

     If I could live in any place and 
time, it would be Paris, the Left Bank in the twenties, like the Woody Allen movie, Midnight in
Paris.
     I would like to hang out with 
Gertrude Stein, Picasso, Picasso's mistress, Hemingway, etc..  I would like to drink red wine with 
them and strong espresso in little white cups with a lemon peel and talk about art, music, writing and philosophy.
     In this day and age many people do not value the artist.  For instance, being legally blind and a stay at home person, people say to
me and I find it irritating, "so what do you do all day?"  
     I feel like giving a smart-ass comment like "I have the same number of hours in a day as everyone else" or maybe even, "nothing, just hang around and stare into space like a
total dead beat."
     But, instead I say, "I am a musician and a writer."  Sometimes I might add that I pay bills, clean the house, grocery shop, take care of my son who has an illness, socialize, etc..  Unfortunately, I am not a smart-ass.  Recently a guy made a rude remark about my eyesight.  I told my old mobility instructor's intern, who I am very good friends with way after being a student or his internship, but he said, "you should have said, thank you for showing your ignorance."
     Many years ago, Baba informed Elizabeth Patterson that a man named Michael on the fourth plane, a dangerous place for the aspirant and intimidating to others, for the fourth plane person can do miracles, would be coming to the Meher Center, and that he could not stay very long, that she must see to that.  Scary, huh?
     Michael visited my parents who lived at the Baba Center.  I do not recall him.  I was very young, a small child.  They said he was handsome, rich, charismatic and attractive to the women.  He also wore beautiful clothing and carried a velvet money pouch.
     He asked my father, "what do you do here?"  My father was an artist, but that is not what he said.
     My father replied, "I open the gate in the morning and I close it at night."  Later that day or the next my father saw him opening the gate with a key for someone.
     I thought this an amusing anecdote.  I heard that he was giving discourses at the boat house and lots of women went, even my mother I think.

Night of Gospel in the Church of My Youth

Jesus was present, His love poured down,
In the old church of my youth the gospel 
singing held me in its heartfelt soulfulness,
As filled as the Holy Spirit I could e'er be,
I stared up at the ceiling high above me.


Hands in the air in devotion and prayer,
Praising Jesus without reservation,
And surrounded I was by His presence
through this worship and its earthy essence
without pretense.  


I felt the Holy Spirit within and without as
every musical note strummed my soul's lament,
There in the church of my younger days baptized, of my sister's wedding,
where all memories complete themselves in the beauty of a violin's song, and heavenly gospel singing.


Praise Jesus, thank you Lord,
His presence is all around me now in the 
singing, and I fall into oneness, unity and 
love, bringing forth my own devotion to a 
God that is not distant nor far, but here and 
now within this church of my youth,
Where the gospel singing brings forth truth
and love and light.