Imagine

This brand new, amazing rendition of John Lennon’s “Imagine” is salve on humanity’s self-inflicted wounds of separation. It is a celebration of tone, tune, and the powers of creative resonance and connection that make humanity so incredibly precious and so vulnerably strong.

We can all make choices: To connect or turn away, to embrace or spurn, to accept what makes us into a tapestry of humanity … or to force false borders and invent pseudo-hierarchies of power or worth.

We can weave patterns of light or dig trenches of fear. We can live harmony or feed chaos.

This much I know: Humanity’s beauty is in its humaneness. In all forms of Kind.

 

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Mini Picasso

 

“This is a big big big mountain and it have a train and it go ‘choo-CHOOOO!’ round and round and also flowers but you see them fast because it a train and rainbow and my name.” (J.N, age 3:4)

 

mini picasso

 

 

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English: Tough Enough?

Bel Air Library Baltimore

 

English …

The impossible nuance of words that do not follow through

And rules that leave one without clue

Enough to grow a frown on many brow

As they doggedly attempt to plough

A minefield of delivery so rough

It leaves them justifiably gruff …

 

This video never fails to make me … laugh!

 

Butterflies

butterflies-photographer unknown

 

She had butterflies in her tummy. Her heart was in her throat. Jitters like little worry critters jumbled through her thoughts. She felt apprehensive, anxious, wary, shaky. Her feet felt twitchy, her hands clammy. She was timorous and nervy.

Not quite frightened. Not quite sorry. Hyper with a smidge of happy and a sprinkling of uneasy.

She was both hungry and queasy. She kept fretting. She felt trembly.

Recital day in all its glory.

 

 

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Think Deeply

 

Think deeply about life.

Hold people closely, gently, in your heart.

Think deeply of the things that nourish:

Care and hope, compassion, truth, light.

Think deeply about what you know

And what you still would like to find out knowledge of.

Think deeply of the seeds you plant

In your soul’s soil

In others’.

Think deeply of the past and all its lessons

Of the way it can shape future histories

Or repeat woe.

Think deeply of the power of both joy and sorrow

Of the choices that can lead to more of both

And which one matters more.

Think deeply of the path you walk

The roads you pave for children and their children’s children

For this Earth.

 

Think deeply of all this

And think beyond it

Yet above and through and in between all of this

Thinking

Breathe in light

Breathe out hope

Offer comfort

Cultivate love.

by Buddha doodles

By Buddha Doodles

 

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A Beauty In Numbers

Each multitude

Is made of individuals.

Each crucial

Together forming

Something

More than

Any sum.

starling-flocks-murmuration-04

 

Abundance of blues. Photo by Yuri Okhlopkov

Abundance of blues (Photo by Yuri Okhlopkov)

 

 

school of fish

School of Fish (Photo Credit Unknown)

 

Flamingos. Alex Shar

Flamingos (Photo: Alex Shar)

Twister Photo by Norbert Probst

Sheep in line--Photo credit unknown

Sheep in Line (Photo Credit Unknown)

 

Even …

Decked Out Ducks. Photo-Boston Magazine

Decked-out Ducks (Photo: Boston Magazine)

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In The Vivid Light I See

photo-by-kristin-manson-on-flickr

Photo: Kristin Manson

And in the vivid light

I see

People divided

Anger, glee.

As in the storms of

Right or wrong

The spaces in between

Are shorn.

Confusion swirls

Known facts to eddies.

Certitude dyes

Friends into enemies.

I see the children’s eyes

Bewildered

As lessons taught to them

Turn riddles:

“Be kind” but watch the adults bully.

“Be calm” but let grown-ups live cruelly.

“Be patient” yet role models tantrum.

“Don’t fight” as those who said

Not to

Attack, throw barbs, play foul

Speak awful.

Their little foreheads crease

With frowns

Which do they follow:

Said, or done?

And

In their vivid light

Do see

The path glows clear

A road to be.

Past time to wash away

The livid rage

Recall the lessons

Of their age:

Hold space to listen

Pace to learn

Revisit patience

Drop hate

Stop spurn.

 

 

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How Will I Know?

girlchem

“How will I know?” the girl hung spectacled green eyes on me. Teeth aglitter with pastel-colored braces bit her lower lip. “What if I wait till it’s too late?”

It was decision time for Summer Camp and she was fretting.

Should she go to the same camp she’d gone to twice already, the camp her cousin goes to, and where several of her classmates will be? She loved it there. It was familiar. It was only three hours away from home. There was a lake and zip-lines and horseback riding. She was going to choose her best friend from last summer as a bunk-mate. It felt like another home.

Or … should she go to the other camp … the one she’d heard of last year but by then already had no openings? The science camp sounded like everything she’d ever want … but now the choice – and possible consequences – became real. That camp was half-way across the continent. It was on a campus, not in a forest. There’d be no one there she knows.

“My friends say I’m crazy because who wants school when there’s finally no school,” she sighed. Her finger twirled the edge of an auburn lock. Twist, hold, release; twist, hold, release. I thought of how the movement mirrored her dilemma … To hold on or to let go, to keep close or to let loose.

A difficult concept at any age, let alone at eleven.

“Hmm …” I noted. It wasn’t my input this child needed, just my ear.

“It’s not like school!” she stressed, a bit defensively. “It’s interesting! Also, they have summer camp activities. A pool, and trips, even arts and crafts. … Well, the crafts are more like, robotics and such, but that’s still crafting stuff, isn’t it?”

I nodded.

She took a deeper breath. “And I like science … They have a whole week about space. We’ll even get to visit a real observatory!” Her eyes shone as if they were already reflecting several constellations, and she sat straighter. Then she sagged. “But I don’t know anyone.”

“Not yet,” I noted. “I gather this won’t last.”

The auburn curl twirled, corked, released. “Yeah … There were a lot of kids I didn’t know in the other camp, especially the first time. But …” the big green eyes widened as the core of doubt unmasked. “What if everyone there is, you know, dorks and nerds and such?”

My eyebrows rose, amused. “And if they are? …”

She frowned but then a pastel-braces grin appeared. “Well … then I’ll fit right in…”

womenscientist1

 

For The Daily Post

 

Before

be-kind-dalai-lama

 

Before you lash out,

Hesitate.

Before you wit your words to punch,

Take pause.

Before you bully to submission

Before you weave a snarky thread

To tie another’s tongue

Before you bask in righteous indignation

Before you bathe in perceived superiority

Of color

Nationality

Views

Beliefs

Affiliation

Possessions

Excess …

Breathe a moment

To consider

And re-assess

The empty value

The pseudo-justification

In power used

To inflict hurt.

 

 

For The Daily Post

A Hope To Quicken

energy

 

There’s a quickening of energies around the world.

Like all currencies, energy itself is neutral–it is what’s attached to it and how it is used that qualifies it into positive or not so, into what builds or what destroys, what mends or inflicts more wounding.

The Earth itself still rotates in the same general blinding speed it had for millennia too numerous to grasp. It hurtles through dark space with indescribable abandon, tethered by invisible forces to the star that keeps us all alive.

The overall mechanics of life and gravity hasn’t changed. Our awareness of it may have. Should.

With energies accelerated, we feel the rushed pulse of days, sometimes of mere moments. We sense the rotation of possibility, the immense power that can be harnessed, the twirl of time.

All is moving, quickened by both ignorance and understanding.

What we do with it–with the potential–is up to us.

Do we let slip down the slippery slopes of power-hunger, fear, and divisiveness … or do we harness good to raise our mutual consciousness, our moral compass, our social empathy to the reality that we are and always have been, One?

Do we take the historically familiar roads of vilifying those we do not care to get to know, of quantifying suffering of others as less painful and less necessary to end … Or do we truly recognize that hunger is still hunger, pain is pain, sorrow is more sorrow, that hate and violence beget only more of same? Do we resolve to do differently, not ‘again’ but in new ways?

Life has quickened. Bits of information spin around the globe in speeds now faster than the Earth itself. We are no longer separated by illusion.

Open eyes see clearly now.

We can, should, understand:

All. Is. One.

 

 

For The Daily Post