Two great videos
Thanks to Dave Mabelle for this contribution!
Oraibi, Arizona, June 8, 2000 (???)
You have been telling people that this is the Eleventh Hour, now you must go back and tell the people that this is the Hour.
And there are things to be considered. . . .
Where are you living?
What are you doing?
What are your relationships?
Are you in right relation?
Where is your water?
Know your garden.
It is time to speak your truth.
Create your community.
Be good to each other.
And do not look outside yourself for your leader.
Then he clasped his hands together, smiled, and said, “This could be a good time!
There is a river flowing now very fast. It is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid. They will try to hold onto the shore. They will feel they are being torn apart and will suffer greatly. Know the river has its destination. The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river, keep our eyes open, and our heads above the water.
And I say, see who is in there with you and celebrate. At this time in history, we are to take nothing personally, least of all ourselves. For the moment that we do, our spiritual growth and journey come to a halt.
The time of the one wolf is over.Â Gather yourselves!
Banish the word ‘struggle’ from your attitude and your vocabulary.
All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.
We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.
“For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin – real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, or a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my ‘life.’ This perspective has helped me to see that there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way.”
“So treasure every moment that you have and treasure it more because you shared it with someone special, special enough to spend your time…and remember that time waits for no one. So, stop waiting until you finish school, until you go back to school, until you lose ten pounds, until you gain ten pounds, until you have kids, until your kids leave the house, until you start work, until you retire, until your car or home is paid off, until spring, until summer, until fall, until winter, until you are off welfare, until the first or fifteenth, until your song comes on, until you’ve had a drink, until you’ve sobered up, until you die, until you are born again to decide that there is no better time than right now to be happy.”
Love them anyway.
If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Do good anyway.
If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies.
The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good anyway.
Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.
The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds.
Think big anyway.
People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs.
Fight for a few underdogs anyway.
What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
People really need help but may attack you if you do help them.
Help people anyway.
Give the world the best you have and you’ll get kicked in the teeth.
Give the world the best you have anyway.
Â© Copyright Kent M. Keith 1968, renewed 2001
How do we forgive our fathers? Maybe in a
dream. He’s in your power. You twist his arm.
But you’re not sure it was he that stole your money.
You feel calmer and you decide to let him go free.
Or he’s the one, as in a dream of mine, I must pull from the water,
but I never knew it or wouldn’t have done
it, until I saw the street-theater play so close up I was moved to actions I’d never before taken.
Do we forgive our fathers for leaving us too often or forever when we were little?
Maybe for scaring us with unexpected rage or making us nervous because there never
seemed to be any rage there at all?
Do we forgive our fathers for marrying or not marrying our mothers?
For divorcing or not divorcing our mothers?
And shall we forgive them for their excesses of warmth, of coldness?
Shall we forgive them for pushing or leaning? For shutting doors?
For speaking only through layers of cloth,or never speaking, or never being silent?
Do we forgive our fathers in our age or in theirs?
Or in their deaths. Saying it to them or not saying it?
If we forgive our fathers, what is left?
Dick Lourie, ‘Forgiving Our Fathers,‘
Hanging Loose Press, pps 147-149,
and as appears in Sherman Alexie’sÂ film, ‘Smoke Signals,‘
some More words on Fathers –
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living
I want to know what you ache for,
And if you dare to dream of meeting your hearts longing.
It doesn’t interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love,for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched the center of your sorrow,
if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or
have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain!
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own,
without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own;
If you can dance with wildness and let ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself;
if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.
I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore be trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not pretty every day, and if you can source your life from God’s presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine,
and still stand on the edge of a lake and shout at the silver moon, Yes!
I want to know if you can get up after a night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done for the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you are and how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand at the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself,
and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
-Oriah Mountain Dreamer, Indian Elder
live as if you were to die tomorrow, learn as if you were to live forever.Â Â Mahatma Gandhi
We’ve all had that moment of pure frustration – banging our heads into a wall, and not knowing which way to turn(raise your hands)
May I Be Frank tells the story of aÂ 54 old Sicilian from Brooklyn, NY, with a lifetime of drug & alcohol addiction and everything that comes with that, including Hepatitis-C, is taken on a 42 day journey, by 3 twenty somethings. Using Raw Vegan Food, Affirmations, Spiritual practice, Holistic practitioners and Unconditional love, these boys help Frank in transforming his health, his relationships, his weight and his view of himself and the world, and ultimately helping him fall in love with himself again.
Highly recommended and I also recommend the Play it Forward concept that for a mere $3 you can give this as a gift of inspiration.
Sit back have a shot of wheatgrass and enjoy
I kick my own ass and wash my own brain.
I push my own buttons and trick my own pain.
I burn my own flags and roast my own heroes.
I mock my own fears and cheer my own zeroes.
Nothing can stop me from teasing my shadow.
I’m full of empty and backwards bravado.
My wounds are tattoos that reveal my true beauty.
I turn tragic to magic and make bliss my duty.
I honor my faults till they become virtues.
I play jokes on my nightmares till I’m sure they won’t hurt you.
I sing anarchist lullabies to lesbian trees
and love songs with punch lines to anonymous seas.
I won’t accept gifts, that infringe on my freedom
I shun sacred places that stir up my boredom.
I change my name daily, pretend to be nobody.
I fight for the truth if it’s majestically rowdy.
Gravity fucks me and I fuck it back.
The sun is my sex slave, the moon smokes my crack.
I pump up my conscience with idiot laughter.
I’m living happily, in love ever after.
I brag about what I can’t do and don’t know.
I take off my clothes to those I oppose.
I’m so far beyond lazy, I work like a god.
I’m totally crazy;
In fact that’s my job.