Matrignosis: A Blog About Inner Wisdom

Think Pyschologically; Live Spiritually

Killing Lance Armstrong May 26, 2015

Military personel from all over Europe compete in the 2006 United States Forces Europe Mountain Bike riders prepare to race at Aviano Air Base, Italy.  Military personel travel from all over Europe to compete in these series of races.  ( U.S. Air Force photo by Airman Nathan Doza ) ( Released )

Military personel from all over Europe compete in the 2006 United States Forces Europe Mountain Bike riders prepare to race at Aviano Air Base, Italy. Military personel travel from all over Europe to compete in these series of races. ( U.S. Air Force photo by Airman Nathan Doza ) ( Released )

For several years I’ve occasionally helped a friend understand puzzling dreams. Recently he shared one I found so interesting that I asked his permission to share it here. First, I need to tell you something about him.

As an avid cyclist, he was a long-time fan of Lance Armstrong.  A really BIG fan.  He followed all his races.  He worried about him when he was diagnosed with a potentially fatal cancer and celebrated when he returned to racing and won.  He supported Armstrong’s charity, Livestrong—a Non-Profit Organization that unites, inspires and empowers people affected by cancer—by buying many of its products and encouraging others to do the same. You might say Lance Armstrong was his hero.  He admired him, was inspired by him, and avidly defended him when others suggested he might be taking drugs.

And then, “in 2012, a United States Anti-Doping Agency investigation concluded that Armstrong had used performance-enhancing drugs over the course of his career and named him as the ringleader of ‘the most sophisticated, professionalized and successful doping program that sport has ever seen.'”(Wikipedia) A CNN article wrote, “The epic downfall of cycling’s star, once an idolized icon of millions around the globe, stands out in the history of professional sports.”

My ethically idealistic friend was outraged.  He felt duped, violated, betrayed. What bothered him most was that Armstrong had ruined the career of fellow cyclist and friend, Frankie Andreu, and publicly slandered and humiliated his wife Betsy for exposing his drug use. And he was utterly unrepentant! My friend threw out or gave away all his Livestrong gear and even burned one of his shirts. Whenever someone brought up the subject he could feel the anger and hatred rising to the point that he could barely contain it.

He couldn’t forgive Armstrong and lived with this knot of hatred for three years. He knew it wasn’t good for him, but he couldn’t help it. Then a few weeks ago he had this dream:

“I’m in a store where people are standing around a table admiring some Livestrong gear.  I say, “Don’t buy any of that stuff.  The guy’s a liar, a doper, a cheater, and a despicable human being!” Then I go into a room where a man is admiring a beautiful racing bike and see he’s Frankie Andreu. I say, “Hey Frankie.  I have an idea.  Let’s go out there and buy up all that Livestrong gear and burn it! I can buy a thousand dollars worth if you’ll take care of the rest.” Frankie enthusiastically agrees, so we buy everything. Then I say, “Where can we burn it?”  A Mafioso-looking man nearby says, “I have a field you can use.”  So we pile our purchases in Frankie’s  SUV, drive to the site, and burn the gear.

We hear a commotion and see people sitting in front of a nearby tent. They tell us they’re watching a mountain bike race. Just then a biker comes into view over a rise wearing Livestrong clothes. I think it’s Lance, so I say to Frankie, “Hey, lets shout insults at him.” He agrees. I see my BB gun lying in the lawn chair in front of me. “Let’s sting him a little with this,” I say. “Yeah, that’ll be good,” he says. But the biker turns out to be Armstrong’s girlfriend.

Another biker rides past then Armstrong comes over the rise. I see my hand gun beside the BB gun. I pick it up, aim it at him and shoot three shots in the shape of a triangle into his center mass. I look at the gun in my hand and think, “I’m going to jail for this. But I guess that’s okay. Being the guy who killed Lance Armstrong isn’t a bad legacy.”

When I asked my friend how he felt after that dream, he said most of the anger and resentment was gone. I asked how he felt about it now. He said, “I feel good!” That’s when I realized what the dream was about.

It wasn’t saying he’s a terrible person. This would be taking the dream literally and ignoring the underlying metaphorical meaning. Since he learned the truth about Lance Armstrong he’d been obsessed, feeling embarrassed, angry and unforgiving. Meanwhile, without his awareness, his unconscious was looking for a solution to this unsatisfactory way of living; and when the time was right, it gave him this healing dream.

Killing Lance Armstrong in a dream gave his moral outrage a profoundly powerful, yet harmless outlet. After three years, his obsession has been defused and he’s feeling pretty good. Because what he actually killed was Lance Armstrong’s power over him.

Can you imagine what the world would be like if everyone handled their hatred with the same integrity and self-restraint as my friend?  If they took their inner lives seriously? If they tried to understand their dreams?  If they felt and expressed their honest feelings without causing harm?

This reinforces my belief that there’s hope for our world. There is a way for humanity to attain inner and outer peace.  And this is it.

Jean Raffa’s The Bridge to Wholeness and Dream Theatres of the Soul are at Amazon. E-book versions are also at KoboBarnes And Noble and Smashwords. Healing the Sacred Divide can be found at Amazon and Larson Publications, Inc.

 

The Sacred Laws of Psyche May 5, 2015

The inner universe

The inner univers

My friends: last week’s post about the new book, Into the Heart of the Feminine, by Jungian analysts Drs. Bud and Massimilla Harris, addressed a lesson that must be learned if we want to heal ourselves and the world. This is the importance of recapturing our ability to think psychologically and symbolically. This I know:  learning the two languages of One Mind is the only lasting remedy for the devastation that our cultural mentality of one-sided rational, verbal and literal thinking has wrought.

With the synchronistic help of Elaine Mansfield, a dear friend and sister writer, I was reminded of this post I published in the wake of the Newtown tragedy over three years ago. If any act epitomizes the evil impact of the one-sided patriarchal culture that has activated the Death Mother archetype in our culture, that did! With this repost I extend my condolences to include the families and friends of those who lost their lives in last week’s devastating earthquake in Nepal.

The inner universe of the mind is, like the physical world, a living organism that functions according to natural laws.  Deciphering them has been the work of holy fools, for who can presume to understand the sacred inner workings of creation? Yet we do try to understand these autonomous patterns of energy (archetypes) in our individual minds (the psyche) and in the mystery of the One Mind beyond ordinary consciousness (the psychoid) because we feel their profound influence.

Our brains know two languages: logic and imagination. Separately, each has limits, but an individual who respects both can make brilliant inroads into the Mysteries. Einstein was one such person. He said,

“Logic will take you from A to B.  Imagination will take you everywhere.”

Carl Jung and Joseph Campbell were others. Jung explored his inner life and that of his clients with the help of myths and symbols from various wisdom traditions. Campbell developed some of Jung’s themes in his own extensive research. Together, their imaginative work shed much-needed light into the darkness of our current collective unconscious. Following are some natural laws they midwifed into our awareness.

1. The Law of Correspondence: The outer universe is a reflection of the inner universe. This intuition gave rise to the ancient adages, “As above, so below,” and “As without, so within.” Humanity has expressed this relationship in diverse symbol systems such as mythology, religion, tarot, alchemy, astrology and magic.

2. The Law of Synchronicity: Meaningful coincidences between our inner and outer universes occur more frequently with self-reflective practices like dreamwork and active imagination. Synchronicities are not products of “cause and effect,” but of an imaginative, heartfelt search for personal meaning which eventually produces what Jungian Monika Wikman calls, “a psychology of synchronicity instead of linearity.”

3. The Law of Opposites: For everything we know about ourselves (beliefs, values, attitudes, emotions), there is a corresponding unconscious opposite. In our psychological immaturity we see things dualistically, (in terms of either-or, good-bad), and automatically repress or disown that which our egos consider the less desirable options.

One Mind
One Mind

4. The Law of Oneness Beneath all apparent dualities lies a fundamental connectedness with All That Is.  We can tap into this One Mind by integrating pairs of opposites to create partnerships which see, think, and behave holistically.

5. The Law of Entropy: When opposites remain isolated from one another, any disorders within them remain constant or increase.

6. The Law of Change:  Energies in both universes are constantly circulating. Change toward stasis and polarization increases disorder and chaos. Change toward communication and integration increases movement toward perfection and completion.

7. The Law of Love: Love is the most powerful healing and unifying force in Life. It has its roots in the heart, i.e. honest feeling and valuing, not the head, or logic and reason.

8. The Law of Choice: Our ego, the organizing center of our conscious selves, can choose to serve or fight these laws, and our personal choices influence ours and the world’s welfare. For example, if we serve the Law of Love, we respect and integrate ours and others’ religions, making space in ourselves and the world for both. If we fight this law we are choosing love’s opposite, hatred.

We can cultivate our imagination or bury it. View ourselves as separate or as connected. Integrate otherness or fight it. Nurture love or hate. Trust or fear. How can our beloved country serve these sacred laws at this point in history?  How can you and I?

My heartfelt condolences go out to the families and friends of the innocents whose physical lives were tragically snuffed out in Newtown. Together, may we find a solution to this senseless tragedy.

Image Credits:  Google Images.

Jean Raffa’s The Bridge to Wholeness and Dream Theatres of the Soul are at Amazon. E-book versions are also at KoboBarnes And Noble and Smashwords. Healing the Sacred Divide can be found at Amazon and Larson Publications, Inc.

 

Into the Heart of the Feminine April 28, 2015

Medusa-Caravaggio_(Uffizi)There is a thinking in primordial images, in symbols which are older than the historical man, which are inborn in him from the earliest times, eternally living, outlasting all generations, still making up the groundwork of the human psyche. It is only possible to live the fullest life when we are in harmony with these symbols; wisdom is a return to them.
– Carl Jung

This blog is based on my passion for self-knowledge and understanding the two great archetypal foundations of life: the feminine and masculine principles. My research, writing and inner work have shed a great deal of light on these mysteries. They’ve also shown me how much I don’t know. Luckily, I have many opportunities to learn.  One recently appeared in the form of a book I was asked to review. I’m delighted to share its deep wisdom about the feminine principle with you.

Into the Heart of the Feminine: An Archetypal Journey to Renew Strength, Love, and Creativity, is co-authored by Jungian analysts Massimilla and Bud Harris. In this outstanding and groundbreaking book, the Harrises use the myth of the Greek Gorgon Medusa to demonstrate the timeless reality of a profoundly destructive complex of images, symbols and themes known as the Death Mother.

Myths are born whenever a culture evolves into a new stage of psychological awareness. Exploring them provides healing and understanding of these developments that are trying to become conscious. Medusa’s myth emerged in Greece during a time when patriarchal gods were trying to assimilate and control the transformative aspects of the feminine principle. The Harrises have uncovered traces of this myth countless times in themselves and their clients.

Medusa was a ravishingly beautiful maiden raped by the god Poseidon in Athena‘s temple. The angry goddess transformed Medusa’s beautiful hair to serpents and made her face so terrible that the mere sight of it would turn onlookers to stone. This is a perfect symbol for the devastating psychological impact of patriarchy’s wounding and devaluing of the feminine archetype.

To quote the Harrises, the Death Mother “paralyzes our initiative, spirit, creativity, and vitality.” Her negativity “affects our culture in general, mothering in particular, and our ability to like, nourish, and take loving care of ourselves.” Unfortunately, it also cripples our ability to meet the emotional needs of our children. Thus do many of us, women and men alike, grow up feeling so unloved, unlovable, depressed, and deeply disappointed in life that we pass on the same curse to them. What’s more, “When the feminine principle is repressed into our unconscious, it becomes part of our collective shadow, and this shadow projects itself as a longing, or even a demand, for power.” Many of us experience the negative consequences of that particular beast every day.

UnknownWith Medusa’s story as guide, the Harrises demonstrate that to bring the feminine into our world, we must begin in a personal way. Only by taking the time to reconnect with the wholeness of who we are—and dreamwork is a primary way—can we learn to value the feminine and have it become reborn within us. This point is illustrated throughout the book in stories about clients who have experienced healing by following the map for the journey outlined in Medusa’s myth.

This requires us to recognize our denial and face our fear of inadequacy, shame, rejection, and belittlement along with the underlying rage, grief and woundedness that give rise to these debilitating fears. With reflection we accept “the reality that we have been damaged by some of the primary attitudes and values in our culture.” This realization strengthens us to confront our personal Death Mother.  In the final phase of healing we learn to pay attention to our lives so that we can celebrate the transformation taking place by living a fuller, richer life.

I love this book.  You’d get a good idea how much if you could see the underlines and comments on practically every page. One of my favorite things about it, apart from the many “Ahas” I acquired about my own Death Mother complex, is the Harrises’ clear grasp of our current cultural mentality. We’ve become so rational, verbal and literal that we’ve forgotten how symbols and images carry a deeper reality than words.  We’ve lost the art of thinking symbolically. And as the authors say, “To lose this art is to lose the kind of grounding that enables us to experience the beautiful depths of love and the Divine presence that is potentially within our capacities.”

What greater loss could there be than that?

You can see Massimilla Harris speaking about the Death Mother at this link:   

Image Credits:  Medusa, Caravaggio.  Wikimedia Commons.  Cover Design of Into the Heart of the Feminine: Courtney Tiberio.  Cover Photo:  Anthony Cave

Jean Raffa’s The Bridge to Wholeness and Dream Theatres of the Soul are at Amazon. E-book versions are also at KoboBarnes And Noble and Smashwords. Healing the Sacred Divide can be found at Amazon and Larson Publications, Inc.

 

New Dreams About My Animus: Part II April 21, 2015

Wonder-129-School-Bus-Static-ImageIn last week’s post I shared two animus dreams from four years ago featuring helpful men. One made me feel loved, protected and deeply secure. The other was my partner in a creative, spontaneous dance performance that was fun, but unfinished. Hooray, I thought then. My animus and I are finally getting our act together!  Surely it won’t be long before I feel some closure on our relationship.

Four years later this relationship is still far from predictable, let alone finished, as the following dreams from a week ago illustrate.

#4630.  “I Want to Stop Driving the Bus.” I’m driving a yellow school bus down the road near my house when the light turns red.  I struggle to stop before hitting the black car in front of me. The bus finally stops inches away from the car. Why am I driving this bus? Stopping it is hard. Where am I going? Why isn’t Fred here to help me? I decide to abandon it in the parking lot of a nearby grocery store and walk home.

#4631.  “My Beautiful Green Shoes Need Work. I’m trying on a pair of green beaded shoes I haven’t worn in years. They resemble the low-heeled Capezios professional dancers wear. They’re very comfortable but the heads of four nails are sticking out from the bottoms of the heels, moreso on the right [masculine] heel than the left [feminine]. They feel sturdy enough to walk on, but they need work before I can trust my footing to be secure. I hope Fred will help me hammer in the nails.

These dreams made me uncomfortable. How did they relate to my waking life?  What was I doing four years ago that had me feeling so good about my animus?  What’s different now? Why isn’t he, (this time in the form of my husband who always has my back in waking life), there for me when my dream ego needs him?

UnknownI had no satisfying answers until a synchronistic occurrence this morning. Having just read last week’s post, Katalina commented:  “What an interesting evolution! What else is shifting / changing that might require the re-consideration of the relationship? In what areas of life is there a faint mistrust?…Funny that there is an audience – I have been thinking of you so much in the context of audience lately. That IASD conference coming up…[and her desire to attend my Friday night keynote lecture]…the theme of presenting to an audience – U wonder if you don’t trust him to be there for you when on stage?”

BINGO!  That’s it! Last week I was convinced there was a link between my older animus dreams and the two most recent ones, and dear Katalina intuited what it was!  My Writer/Teacher animus helps me manifest my thoughts in clear, organized, logical thinking. Four years ago this month he and I were working closely together to finalize my newest book for publication. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to have his help and I often took a few moments off to thank him. Likewise, for the past few months I’ve been driving hard, preparing to address an audience of dreamers who want to learn what I know, and he’s been invaluable in helping me write my speech and create my powerpoint presentation.

Now that we’re finished with this phase of the journey, my animus has stepped out of the picture and my old nemesis, Self-Doubt, is using his absence to undermine me. I’m ready to get off the bus. I don’t want to “drive” this project to completion without my animus. Will we take up our graceful dance on the stage at the conference? Will I be wearing my repaired dancing shoes? Will he help me voice my standpoint to this live audience as well as he does in my writing?

The journey to self-knowledge and self-empowerment takes a lifetime. At this particular juncture I think I’ve been taking the masculine half of my soul for granted and he might be feeling a bit neglected. Now that I realize how much I need his help, I plan to lure him back with some long overdue inner work: a few active imagination dialogues and maybe a ritual or two! Like most men, he turns into a real softie with some tender, loving attention!

Image Credits:  Google Images

Jean Raffa’s The Bridge to Wholeness and Dream Theatres of the Soul are at Amazon. E-book versions are also at KoboBarnes And Noble and Smashwords. Healing the Sacred Divide can be found at Amazon and Larson Publications, Inc.

 

An Easter Visitation From Serpent Mother April 7, 2015

A blood moon rising over Lake Virginia.

A blood moon rising over Lake Virginia

What an exquisite time of year it is in Orlando. Easter weekend was especially lovely. Saturday night we went to the home of good friends, where, in the most gorgeous weather imaginable, we celebrated her 60th birthday with dinner in the backyard while watching the glorious rise of the astonishing red-orange “blood moon” over Lake Virginia. Afterwards, with the doors open to the cool breezes, we danced barefooted in the living room to his exquisite play list of the best dance music ever!! It was like The Big Chill—one of my favorite movies ever—all over again, except this time the music wasn’t Motown, it was “O” town!

Sunday was equally balmy and breezy.  So between the traditional indoor Easter Egg hunt for our grandchildren (we’re still missing a purple egg containing a $5.00 bill; maybe they’ll find it next year), and our version of Easter dinner (featuring Grandma Raffa’s Italian spaghetti and meatballs), we relaxed on the deck.

Our house is on a small secluded island on the edge of a large lake.  Most of the island lies within in the city limits of our suburb, but our end of the road is governed by the county.  So the neighbors across the street, whose home straddles the dividing line, have chickens on the county side of their backyard.  On our side of the street, a canal edged with a cypress swamp runs behind the few houses and merges with the lake at either end. Our tiny enclave is so isolated by the water and trees that it’s easy to forget we’re surrounded by large neighborhoods near the big city.

It’s paradise to the critters with whom we share this space. Nearly every day I see pairs of wood ducks flying in to make a splash landing near their nests.  Or hear a kingfisher screeching as he races through the treeless air space over the canal like a noisy space ship trying to shake off an enemy from Star Wars. Or listen to the piercing whistles of the ospreys who surf the air currents over the swamp and lake searching for fish.  We have 8-hooter owls, great blue herons, green herons, wood storks, coots, anhingas and bitterns. Ginormous turtles have been known to lay their eggs in our backyard, raccoons try to dig them up, bass swim in the canal, and alligators rule.

So I wasn’t very surprised Easter afternoon when I heard a shout from the big kids who were playing volleyball in the side yard.  “Snake! Snake!” As we rushed over Alex was hopping through the grass like a dancer over hot coals. Sure enough, passing beneath the center of the volleyball net, a 6-foot long snake was making a slithery bee-line for the canal.

My son-in-law recognized it right away and told us it was a non-poisonous rat or corn snake.  We watched, mesmerized, as she slid over the sea wall, slipped into the water, sashayed swiftly across the canal and disappeared in the undergrowth.

Serpent Mother

Serpent Mother

Judging by the direction from which she had come, my guess is she was returning from a visit to the henhouse across the street. Do they like eggs? I asked him.  Oh yes. Aha! So Serpent Mother likes to celebrate Spring with Easter egg hunts too!

Why do I call this serpent “her?” Can I tell the gender of a snake at a glance?  No, I’m not speaking literally. Everything has symbolic meaning that reflects the inner life of spirit and psyche, and snakes are especially rich with associations.  Aside from being a common dream symbol of transcendence, life-giving energy, healing, and the Sacred Self, the snake has always and everywhere been associated with the archetypal feminine and the ancient goddesses who represented the Great Mother of all life.

The moon is likewise associated with the cool light of the feminine, as compared to the masculine sun.  And a full moon, pregnant with life-giving blood, rising over Lake Virginia on Easter eve, a day when my psychologically aware and spiritually mature friend celebrated her 60th birthday, has very special meaning for me.

Plus, the element of water is the feminine counterpart to masculine fire. The name Virginia (from the OFr. virgine, and Lat. virgo), means virgin, a chaste maiden or unmarried woman who has taken religious vows of chastity. And Serpent Mother’s synchronistic visitation on Easter Sunday reminds me of the virgin Mary, the mother of Jesus, a Spirit Person who transcended the physical limitations of earthly life, thus symbolizing our hope for new spiritual life.

I hope your Easter was blessed with reverence for the Mystery of new life, and I wish you an especially meaningful Spring.

Corn snake image credit:  Wikipedia

Jean Raffa’s The Bridge to Wholeness and Dream Theatres of the Soul are at Amazon. E-book versions are also at KoboBarnes And Noble and Smashwords. Healing the Sacred Divide can be found at Amazon and Larson Publications, Inc.

 

The Benefits of Being with Nice People Who Do Nice Things March 31, 2015

IMG_5366There was a story in this morning’s Orlando Sentinel about the new book, “Beneath the Surface,” by John Hargrove. He’s a former senior trainer at SeaWorld’s parks who was interviewed for the documentary “Blackfish” after quitting his job in 2012. Apparently his book is opening old wounds in Orlando. People here remember Dawn Brancheau, a trainer who was battered and drowned by a bored, stressed-out orca in 2010. Many feel a deep sadness over this incident; some are still outraged.

My trainer and I talked about it this morning. I told him I’d gone to an Alan Jackson concert at SeaWorld Sunday afternoon at the invitation of dear friends.  He won’t go to SeaWorld any more and gives everyone who does a hard time. He can’t see why anyone would want to go to a place that holds these magnificent intelligent animals captive for the purpose of making money off them.  He doesn’t think their educational programs are justification for it.

I told him about a brilliant but deeply disturbing book I read years ago titled “The Sparrow” by Mary Doria Russell.  This fascinating mix of science fiction and theology highlights the moral dilemma of being a conscious animal that eats and hunts and experiments on other animals.  He says he’s okay with eating a chicken or cow and lower vertebrates because of their less well-developed brains and neural pathways.

We agreed it’s easier to eat an animal you didn’t kill.  I told him my grandpa used to chop the head off an occasional chicken, then Grandma would pluck and dismember it in preparation for Sunday dinner.  I saw one running around without its head once. I ate it the next day and liked it.  We decided kids who grow up on farms get used to this sort of thing. That seems a shame, somehow.

I said I read an article about how some scientists now believe everything has some form of consciousness, even plants.  Even rocks.  It seems we’re actually surrounded by, and part of a “sea” of consciousness. The cells of our bodies even have consciousness.

He said if that’s true, then if we didn’t eat anything that had consciousness we’d all starve to death.  He has a point. He likes the way Star Trek solved that problem.  People had learned to make food that was full of nutrients and tasted like anything you wanted, but it didn’t contain animal products.  Won’t somebody please invent that?  Quick?Meanwhile, I guess we just have to decide which forms of consciousness we’re willing to eat and which we’re not, then find a way to come to terms with it. Otherwise, we’ll all either starve or go mad with existential angst.

Sometimes, living in this world is hard.  Sometimes very hard!  Yet, I’m feeling mellow on this beautiful spring day. I think it’s a holdover from Sunday’s visit to SeaWorld with Sam and Eleanor.  When we got there, Sam took me to where people were learning to line dance and whispered something to the man calling out the steps. He came over, pulled me into the group of dancers, and stayed with me ’til I got it.  It was fun.

Eleanor without her Bubbalou's T shirt

Eleanor without her Bubbalou’s T shirt

After that, a woman asked me where I’d gotten the cool black “Bubbalou’s Bodacious Bar-B-Que” T-shirt with the pink dancing pigs on it. I told her Sam gave it to me. He owns Bubbalou’s, one of the caterers for the “Bands, Brew, and BBQ” weekend events SeaWorld sponsored throughout March. She wanted to buy one, but they weren’t selling them. I introduced her to Eleanor. She told Eleanor she’s a helicopter pilot from Alaska. She attends this event every year. It’s the only time she gets to enjoy country music because her family doesn’t like it. Eleanor took off her T-shirt and gave it to her. Sam gave her a ticket for a free Bar-B-Que dinner after the concert.

Sam had reserved front row seats at the concert.  Alan Jackson was wonderful. Afterwards, the bass guitar player gave me a free Alan Jackson guitar pick. It says “YEE HAW” on one side and there’s a silhouette of A.J. on the other. I plan to try it out on my ukulele.

I still eat chickens and fish and occasionally cows. I usually feel guilty about it. I don’t hunt or fish;  partly on principle, partly because I don’t like to shoot guns or put worms on hooks. I feel sorry for them. The worms and the fish. I ate Bar-B-Que by the lake after the concert. I had the rest for lunch today. It was delicious.

My trainer and friends are good people. They remind me of the wellspring of caring and kindness at the core of every psyche. I’ve been thinking about the Buddhist goal of “Joyful participation in the sorrows of the world.”  It helps some.

Jean Raffa’s The Bridge to Wholeness and Dream Theatres of the Soul are at Amazon. E-book versions are also at KoboBarnes And Noble and Smashwords. Healing the Sacred Divide can be found at Amazon and Larson Publications, Inc.

 

 
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