ON LOVE....

ON LOVE….

LOVE flows from another and sits softly beside you,
It doesn’t ask if you are single or married,
Gay or straight, black or white, skinny or fat;
It doesn’t care. It only longs to BE.
It comes as a gift with no strings attached,
No desire  to own or control you.
It loves to watch you dance in freedom,
It asks nothing in return, it’s joy is in giving.
It asks, “ how can help you, console you,
Support you, lift you, ease your burdens?”
LOVE smiles upon you and brings you gifts from the heart,
LOVE has no selfish interest
It’s doesn’t come with labels like romantic, parental or friend:
It just sits softly, ever so softly, under the camouflage of labeled  LOVE,
It waits for you to discover that It is ever present in all things.
It moves freely like the wind, kissing you and playing with your hair
And flees away if you try to hold it, yet never leaves, only dances outside your grasp.
It wants only for you to see that it exists for everyone, not just certain “someone’s”
It isn’t worldly as we have known LOVE
It is the treasure we all seek, the end of the rainbow
Once mined, is a beacon of light given freely, not to be questioned…
It is our gift to share in a smile, a touch, a concern, a deed, an action, 
The words “I love you” are flowers for the heart, forever yours.

By Cynthia E. Ashley

Mother Earth is Calling You Back

When I was a young child, my mother was always working to support the family after my father had abandoned us.  I was five years old. I grew up not seeing much of my mother and not having a father around.  I was a latch-key kid,( as were my older sister and brother), before the term became popular.  I lived on the outskirts of town on a dirt road in a very rural area. Being in nature was natural to me.  I remember waking up in the morning and being so excited to rush outside and be with the land, the trees, the forest, the hills, the meadows,the brook, the birds and the wildlife. I grew up feeling that mother nature/mother earth was my comforter, my teacher, my pleasure and yes, my mother. She even fed me with food from the neighbors gardens and wild berries. I remember picking clover buds and pulling them apart and sucking the sweet honey from them. I remember how the clover fields made a cushiony bed to lie in and dream, as I looked up at the clouds and entertained myself by discovering various shapes of delightful characters.  I remember how the wind would kiss me and play with my long blonde hair.  I felt so good being out with mother nature and walking on the earth.  I loved how the earth threw up rocks for me to discover, sticks that had fallen from trees that were unusal, leaves and flowers that were bright and delighted my senses.  I especially loved going to the brook and hearing it speak with the rush or trickle of water, depending on the season. I loved to wade in it, although I was told not to go near it.  When I felt it's strong current and it's depth, I understood why my mother was concerned about it.  I loved playing with the brook and jumping across stones or swamp grass to cross her.  More than anything I loved the trees that sheltered me from the sun and gave me a nice place to sit and look at all the treasures I had collected while out and about; a birds feather, an unusual rock, a variety of sticks and maybe some shiny object I had found along the way.  Everyday I explored.  That was my life.  I especially enjoyed the sky and watched for what it would tell me regarding the weather, as did the leaves on the trees and the winds. The birds sang to me and bunnies hopped by me.  I even had "homes" in large bushes where the animals had made paths into them.  I walked the hills and the valleys,  picked wild apples growing in the pasture lands.  My companion was my English Setter named Sally.  She went everywhere with me and watched over me.  She knew all my dreams and secrets.  My world was always a wonder and when I saw my mother I would ask her questions about life, about the stars, the sky, the planet. I loved looking at the stars at night and trying to find the constellations.  I frustrated my mother and she called me "The Dreamer".  I remember the day I had an "ah-ha moment" when I discovered that people from all over the world were sitting under the same moon! Mother said "you think too much". She didn't understand the wonder and awe inspiring world I was living in.

My childhood was wonderful in the sense of my experience with nature and the earth.  I listened for cars to come down our road and could hear them long before seeing them.  I put my head and hands to the ground to feel the vibrations.  I had a connection to all that was around me and took delight in my beautiful world.  I hated to come inside.  I always stopped to notice a flower, an insect, a bee or whatever was crosssing my path. I thought every kid grew up this way until I grew older and was exposed to the world of buildings and cities and noise, asphalt roads and exhaust fumed air.  When I married I moved to the city where the world looks into buildings instead of out them, for there was no beautiful nature to see.  I realized that for my own existence, I had to be back with nature.  We eventually moved into an old farmhouse in a quaint village town in the foothills of the Berkshire Mountains.  I had what I needed and reconnected with the land, knowing the woods around me like the back of my hand.  I was out there as much as I could be, whether it was walking, biking or riding my horses.

Today, I still live with the land.  I still notice the flowers, the birds, the insects, the calls of nature.  If I am in a parking lot and a bird calls out to me, I listen! I stop and pause when I am flooded with the scents of the plum trees several homes away. I can still hear the whispering sounds of nature and will follow them to explore. I love it all and how it pleasures me, plays with me and nurtures me. Yes, I am "home" with my mother earth. Please take care of her, she is full of so much stress and pressure.  The world at large has not treated her well.  She is what gives us life, air to breathe, nature to please our senses and our souls, she gives us food, water and shelter, a way to move and walk upon her. She opens her arms in the skies in a vast kaleidoscope of colors, shapes, stars, rainbows and planets to view.  Most of all, we can not live without her. We are ONE with the earth, the sky, the wind, the air. To hurt mother earth is to hurt yourself. Take care to protect that which sustains our existence. We can not live without her.

Living Alone? Create an Emergency Notebook

It seems impossible that almost a year has past since I have written in here. Since Dave's passing, time has just been a fog for me as I continue to crawl out of the grief phase of my life.  Only recently have I realized that in the event of a personal emergency, I should have a place where vital information could be found. My biggest nightmare would be to have an accident and see all these strangers in my house rumbling through my things just to find information about me! Worse yet would be my animals escaping out the door, an ambulance taking me away, leaving my house unlocked with  people coming and going while I'm stuck in a hospital somewhere.Being a very private person with family living out of state, I became aware that even my friends would not know how to contact my loved ones if necessary.

When Dave was alive, I never had to think like this. He knew who to call and I knew who to call for him. He was here to handle things at the house for me and I was here for him.  Things are different now. I decided that it would be a good idea to print up a notebook of everything someone needed to know in the event I could not be here at home to manage things. I played out all types of scenarios in my mind in order to prepare this book. Yesterday I finished the first draft of it and placed it on my kitchen table, the cover reading, "Cynthia's Emergency Information, Please Open This".  I knew from my experience with Dave that the first place the EMT's check is the refrigerator door for any medical notices.  So I plan on hanging a tag on the refrigerator directing them to this book.

The book became divided into several parts:
Medical:  This lists my name, age, address, insurances, medical cards, doctors and current medications and                    where they are located in the house. Also listed is any other medical information that could be              pertinent.

Family:  This lists all the names and phone numbers of my immediate family

Friends: Located here are the telephone numbers of local friends  that would be willing to assist me in   the event of a crisis, such as coming over and dealing with my animals, locking up my house, checking to be sure I have no appliances running, burners on and so forth.

Animals:  Here I have listed my pets, their feeding schedules, where to find their food, their habits and routines and what I wish done with them should I not be back home within a few days. I want my friends and family to know  my immediate concerns in regards to the care of my pets.

Personal/financial:  Here I have listed what my monthly bills are and how to pay them should I not be coherent or able to attend this task. I have started a process to try and have as many bills as possible automatically deducted through my personal checking account or credit cards. Also listed is any financial information necessary to carry on my obligations.


Business: In a separate book I am keeping the information regarding how to keep my business running should I not be able to operate it's daily functions. Realizing that I would definitely need my income from it as well as not wanting to lose it, it would be important to have a plan in place to keep it functional. Making some minor adjustments, this is quite doable.

Home:  This area of the book includes any home information needed.  Insurances, Repair and maintenance Services, mortgage information, etc. Where to find keys for home and post office.

Death:  In the event of my death, this area includes where to find necessary information pertaining to this event.also listed here is a list of the people I would like contacted.

I am sure as I work with the book it will evolve into more details than what I currently have listed. I feel this is a start and gives me peace of mind should I ever need it.  Whether you live alone or are a couple living without family near by, this book may be a consideration for you as well. If something should happen to both you and your spouse, you will want to provide details to make things easier for those who come to assist the situation.

What is needed?

The Notebook: A three ring binder
Plastic page covers
word processing program to type and print out page documents.  This will allow changes and updates to be added with ease.
Place in obvious place near the refrigerator. (counter, kitchen table)
Consider a tag for the refrigerator directing someone to the book

Sweet David

I can hardly believe a year has gone by since my darling husband David passed, April 26, 2009.  Tommorrow (April 11th) would have been his 69th birthday.  Everything around me is reminding me of him.  The Spring flowers blooming in the simple joy of being  flowers, decorating my yard with their joyful presence, is bringing home the memories of him.  His presence is ever so strong in my heart and mind.  He is all around me.  I sit with my morning coffee in the garden, where he and I co-created such  a beautiful sacred space.  He is always near me as I glance onto the things he built; the stone walls, the pond in the sunken garden, the stone patios.  I smile as I view the towering pines that he rescued from Walmart because no one wanted them and they were to be thrown away.  In all their crooked shapes, they grew tall and brought joy back to the man who saved them.  Here and there are plants he rescued because someone was going to throw them away, carelessly not caring that they were a living force of energy.  Dave brought home the orphaned plants, in his kindness, they smile back at him.  Now they smile at me. I created and designed our garden, David built it.  I planted and tended to the flowers, making purchase after purchase as he grumbled about where I was going to put them, "I'd run out of space", he said.  I would argue with a "please let me bring it home" look in my eyes, that we'd find room for just one more!  Before he died, on one of his better days. while sitting and enjoying the garden, he turned his sweet face to me and said, "I'm sure glad you made me keep finishing this yard.  It's so beautiful and I am really enjoying it.  I wouldn't have done this myself."  I knew then that he was resting in what was 'our" creation together.  We were a great team, him and I.  We both had so many ideas and plenty of energy to pursue our goals.  Although we  each had different businesses, we complimented each other in our work and in our play. Our energy together had a lot of vitality and vibrance. Sometimes our vibrations were so high we conflicted, but what couple doesn't from time to time, especially if you're both as strong willed as we were.

It is good to rmember Dave, his face always smiling and his mind always working.  He was a talker, my Dave.  Always busy, always being productive.  He was never dull or boring but always had some new project in the works.  His energy level for a man of 68 was remarkable even in sickness.  He never wanted to go, to leave me behind.  He fought long and hard to stay here with me.  "I just want to be with you" he would say.  He was the kind of guy who was just happy being around me.  He took joy in who I was and accepted me fully.  He was that way with most people, accepting them as they came,  never asking them to change.

David had an incredible ability to just flow with life.  I learned many things from him, this being the biggest lesson.  I always had a tendency to fight change.  He would say, "Cindy, if you would just go with it and stop fighting it, it would become so easy."  He was right.  Spoken like the true wind surfer and downhill skiier he was, he could cut through any of life's adversities with the greatest of ease.  God must have smiled down on him many times. Dave was a positive soul.  He always knew happiness was a choice.  He always picked the high road!

He was a natural born teacher to mankind.  He never passed and opportnity to share his knowledge with anyone who was interested.  With me, interested or not, he taught me things to help me grow as a person.  He strengthened me.  In that strength, he helped me to prepare for what neither of us knew years later would be waiting for us.  Did he know on some level he would go before me?  I don't know.  I just know that while we butted heads over many things, his lessons were there for me to draw on after he was gone.  He taught me too, that a couple can argue things through to resolution.  He was a great debator and I learned to hold my own with him.  He was the strongest man I have ever known and he helped me to become the strongest woman I could possibly be.

I miss him.  He is always with me in a good way.  I can still smell the scent of him and taste his sweet sweet kisses.  I can still see his smiling face, his twinkling eyes and pink flushed skin.  I can still feel his lingering touch of his soft warm hands on my smooth skin. He had a way of touchng me that that was so healing.  In his hands, was the comfort of the world.  One touch and I knew everything would be alright.  But in the end, it was him taking comfort from my touch, telling me how good it felt to him.  I was so glad that I could soothe him  in his pain.  So glad that I could comfort him and be close to him as he drew nearer and nearer to leaving me.  Touch was vital to each of us in the end.  When he first got sick, five years earlier, I whispered in his ears, "Dave.....don't go anywhere without me, ok?" He would always nod, "okay" with a smile. Yet, I couldn't keep him beside me any longer.  God had other plans for him and for me.

I am  trying to move through the loss.  Although I feel him with me all the time, I miss his companionship and life force so very much.  I had no idea it would be so hard to find my own way without him.  We were so close. Sometimes it seems unreal that he isn't here.  Sometimes I think he's only away on a trip, he'll be back.  Yet, the front door never opens, I never hear his voice, I never see the warmth of his glowing face and body.  I only hold him in my memories.  I try to move on through the maze of emotions, for I know that is what Dave would want and expect from me.  I try to find purpose, a reason to keep going, but he was my reason.  He was my sunshine, my morning glow.  He was what I came home to, who I snuggled in with each night, the man I confided in, my best friend.

Tomorrow I will remember his birthday.  However, April 26th will be the one year anniversary of his birth into a new world I have yet to experience.  A dimension of existence unknown to me.  I know he is a force of energy.  I know that energy keeps existing. I believe he is alive and well in this new form.  I beleive that in conciousness we are still connected.  I know he is in all things now.  I saw him in the beautiful silver hair of a stranger walking down the street, I had to take a second look.  I see him in the flowers and feel him in the wind.  I see our bond in the spring birds making nests together, I see his laughter in the little things he thought funny; I find him in adventure, spontaneity and excitment in life.  He is there as I watch the down hill skiers, the windsurfers, the couple canoeing across a quiet lake or river.  He is in every beautiful sunrise and every sunset.  Yes, he is in everything.  My sweet, sweet David.

IN YOUR HEART, I’M ALWAYS HERE

In Your Heart, I’m always Here

(my birthday poem for my daughter)




Little girls grow up to be women

No longer needing mom’s hand

Little girls grow up to be women

Independent, taking a stand.



Mommy’s soon become “Mother”

Two women now holding hands

Sharing life within the journey

Side by side, touching when can.



Distance may create separation

Yet the heart is forever bound

Mother and daughter united

Eternal love, eternal sound.



I love you my darling Wendy

Mother’s love is always near

Close your eyes and I am with you

In your heart, I’m always here.



Sometimes I may be hiding,

Sometimes you may not find

Yet deep beneath the troubles

A mothers love will always shine.



Today it is your birthday

My heart does heave a sigh

Where oh where has little girl gone?

She’s here at mothers side!



I love you! Happy Birthday!
Mom

Conversations With Guatemalan Male Teen

I have always had a deep desire to experience different cultures around the world.  I thought that I would need to be a world traveler of foreign countries to fully know and experience these differences.  Little did I know, that modern technology would allow me to have cultural exchanges with my global brothers and sisters.  I didn't have to step out my door.  The internet brought to me those who were meant to be in my path.  I never expected that a virtual world would open the doors to such global interactions.  Yet here I was, meeting a young male student from Guatemala; a country I was holding dear to my heart for it's human rights issues on femicide.

Since my last blog on Guatemala, my new friend has given me permission to begin discussing our conversations.  Since he is a young male, in a society that devalues women, I was most anxious to hear his views about crime and about the femicide occuring in his country.

I was surprised to learn that he actually had respect for women. " It was how I was raised", he said.  Coming from a family that was more affluent than most, he grew up in a household of women.  I dare not become too specific in my story of him, for I wish to protect his idenity.  Those who speak out in Guatemala are in great danger as are their families.

My new friend told me of his rual life before going off to school.  He learned to kill by protecting the family farm.  His weapon, a sharp machetti.  I cringed as he told me of the wild animals he had to destroy to protect his families investment.  This of course led off into a discussion of animal rights; how I have wild animals coming through my yard every night and I don't kill them for trespassing.  He reported that these gorey deaths were deaths of necesssity.  His friend would shoot them with a gun and he would dehead them with his machetti for a quick killing.  In his mind, he was creating the least amount of suffering.

I asked him about the hanus murderous crimes against women in his country.  He was curious about what I read or seen, claiming that not everything being reported is acutally truth.  He and his family had seen many articles and news broadcasts, that they felt was not actually what was happening.  He stated to me that in most of the killings it was because the women had cheated on their men.  He told me that in his country adultry and unfaithfulness was a crime of sanctity.  I could see that for as educated as this young man was, he too felt on some level that a woman's behavior justified her killing.  We moved off into a conversation that this kind of behavior has been going on since the beginning of time, yet doesn't warrant death.  We talked of a woman's right to live, regardless of behavior. I didn't believe that all the kiillings were women who had betrayed their men, yet this was the male mentality in Guatemala. Many killed were very young women.

He spoke of how his community handled such acts of crime, stating, that if a woman were murdered in his town, the community would find the killer and burn them in the streets for all to see.  The same with thieves.  He himself has not killed.  Yet he speaks to me about what happens if he finds someone on the streets trying to hurt a woman or theives that try to rob others.  He takes care of them his own way, by beating them up.  Breaking their legs, arms, in an  effort to keep law and order.  He has no tolerance for this.  He has spent time learning three kinds of marshall arts and honed his fighting skills.  He states, "you wouldn't believe it!  People just close their eyes to this kind of thing and pretened it's not happening.  Walk right by." He tells me people fear him.  He has the confidence of a fighter and a sense that he will be alright because of this.  I ask him if he fears for his sisters? In his communnity, he seems to feel they will be alright. What about when you leave the university and marry, have little girls of your own, I ask? Will you fear for them? "We will be ok, I think."



I ask him if the thieves  he hurts might be hungry? Poverty is a rampid social problem.  He claims they should work for a living.  I ask him if there is another way he could handle this instead of breaking legs and arms?  What if he helped these people?  He suggests they should go to class and learn a skill so they can work, a skill like forging.  I am pleased to hear his mind coming to some form of rehabilitation.  I ask, who would enforce they go to class, for the law will do nothing?  There is silence.  Could you start a school?  More silence.

I ask him about his faith.  Does he believe in God?  Yes, but not religions, he reports.  We talk about Love, not romanitc love but the love for mankind.  I share my views.  He likes what I am saying, "nice" he replies.  I have a chance to learn of him and he of me.  We end our conversation, until the next visit. I think about his ways and wonder if he walks away thinking of mine.  Could there be another way for this 19 year old in Guatemala?

Another Side to the Crime in Guatemala

My first blog on the horrible crimes against women in Guatemala has instilled in me a passion for human rights in this country. Most recently, through the wonders of modern technology, I was able to have an at length discussion with a young 19 year old male from Guatemala.  Longing to know his view points on the subject from the male perspective, I began to probe the crime isues so prevalent in his country.  My main concerns were the murder of innocent women.  Along with that, his concerns were the daily thievery and violence occuring in the streets.  I learned that Guatemalans have their own way of dealing with the violence they have to live with.  This young man tried to champion for goodness. The law enforcement of Guatemala does nothing to control or stop crimes and murder.  Here, I met a citizen who was trying to uphold some standard of law on his own.  A huge undertaking for a ninteen year old.

For now, my discussion has to remain between me and him.  However, I am hoping in time, I may be given his permission to disclose some of the information and the story he has shared with me without putting him at risk.

As we talked, I tried to have an open heart and understand the mind of this educated young man, who still could only fight the system with his own barbaric means to a somewhat futile end.  My new friend thought that Guatemala had been "forgotten at the hand of God".  I reassure him that there are people outside of his country that care about what's happening in Guatemala.  "Please don't lose hope", I said.  It occured to me as we spoke, that Guatemala is generations away from a cure of crime unless there were a drastic change in politics and the infra structure of law enforcement.

My new friend felt that education was a key factor to the change of his country.  How many centuries will it take to erase the centuries of macho beliefs towards women, I thought?  How many centuries to over turn a corupt government and law enforcement?  How many centuries before respect for another humans " right to life" exists?  How many centuries before force is not the way of life for either goodness or evill acts?  How many more senseless murders?

I am reminded of a word we use in yoga class, Namaste.  It means that the Divine in me honors and respects the Divine in you.  With this awareness we walk out into the world treating each other with respect for that which  is in all of us.

I am but one person, touched by human rights for this country.  Here in my path, comes a young mind with whom I am able to converse about these issues and share my points of view.  I am amazed and in awe of how we are used for good.  I couldn't see how, I, as one person, could make any difference in this cause.  It seemed overwhelming.  Yet, my heart weeped for Guatemalan women.  I could only write and share my views.  Now, I am able to touch the life of one male in Guatemala.  Can I change anything,?  No.  However, by sharing values, points of views, stimulating thinking and questioning, it is possible that making a difference can start with one human heart.
Namaste