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Today is the present… be the gift.

Maiden Voyage: Lift off. October 2, 2015

My first excursion in Louise was like cruising the universe on a rogue moon.

Having quantum-leaped free from the gravitational jurisdiction of my native solar system, Friday last I set course for St Louis and the flux was on <smile>.

Aiming to be off the launchpad between 8am and 9am, completing the pre-escape checklist took a bit longer than anticipated, partly because I kept thinking of specialty tools that would make life more comfortable at all of the little stops along the way.

The item last grabbed at 10am as I shared mega-hugs with eldest son, Adam, was our family’s old campfire-soot-stained 8-cup percolator.

“You know, that wouldn’t be here for you to take if I hadn’t rescued it from Sassafras,” he chided.

I smiled at him, over my shoulder, reflecting backward with uber warm-fuzzies on the last time the percolator was used, on a family camping trip, fifteen years ago, to a nook in a cranny of the Ozark Mountains that we named SassafrasWilds.

Then finally, with the turn of a key and the engine purring like a quick-witted tiger on the prowl, five years of hoping, dreaming, wishing and navigating through the passage of my off-springs’s young-adulthood and my liberating emancipation from the work-a-day world to that stage of life we call ‘retirement’, I was cruising.

Wow… What a hoot!!!

Time of arrival at friend Vicki’s abode, where I was to backyard boondock for a couple of nights and which the google-gods calculated to be 346 miles north-northeast of my start, was estimated at 3pm to 4pm.

In fact, according to Louise’s instrument panel, we logged 354 miles portal-to-portal, with no digression from route. And for those (like me) who care about such things, Louise got just a hair over 13mpg on this first leg of our journey, which was all on U.S. Hwy. or Interstate with many long and sometimes steep grades.

Coupled with my penchant to ‘take things slow and easy’ (average speed was 60-ish) and my self-awarded liberty to stop whenever the spirit so moves me, actual travel time was 10 hours… which included 1 stop to check tire pressure and fuel-up right after leaving home, and one to refuel along the way, plus several to just to get out of the driver’s seat, have a snack, stretch my legs and take a potty break.

Truly, for me, an enchanted way to travel.

Chumming with Vicki – who I met at a conference which she coordinated in 2011 — was grand. Our friendship was seeded by our respective independent advocacy work on issues pertinent to social justice, professional accountability, individual equality, civic well-being and family health — my personal role in which has mainly been that of journalist: reporting on programs, events and activities being forwarded by various organizations that, in my cultured opinion, deserve to make print, and sometimes volunteering as the communications director or public relations person with organizations that are doing what I see as critical work in the fostering of healthy, happy, vibrant communities.

In this instance, my test-run with Louise included piggybacking my penchant for advocacy with my desire to travel and visit family and friends. To find out, experientially, how capable I am to maintain the pace requisite multiple consecutive days on the road, including the doing of routine operations (like dumping the tanks and hooking-up shore power) plus the daily housekeeping of my mobile mini-mansion, while at the same time driving upto to 300 miles a day -and- doing the things that I actually want to do.

Thus for two days Vicki and I dug into the subject matter of the organization she now serves as president: Women Against Registry, aka: WAR.

Our first task was to draft some written copy for new brochure to succinctly articulate the organization’s purpose which, in a nutshell, is to insist that society look at and do something about the harm being done to whole families and most especially to young children, by laws that were – with the best of intentions – intended to protect everyone.

A tenet I personally find to be too true in too many aspects of our great nation’s justice system today.

Thus a good measure of the time that Vicki and I shared – reaching back to include several months of email correspondence — was given to detailing plans for an envisioned conference that we’ve lovingly dubbed JAKE, which stands for Justice, Accountability, Knowledge, Equality… and which to us, sorta says all of everything about what we want life to be all about for everyone, all of the time… just and fair, with each of us accountable for our own actions being grounded in an understanding of the complex dynamics of social interaction and thus resonant with the quality of respect amplified by the tenet, “Do unto others what you would have others do unto you.”

So, there you have it… <smile> Phase one of my weeklong test run went great. Louise operated fabulously well on self-contained systems from Friday morning through early Monday afternoon, when I checked in for our first night together in a real RV park… my experience of which will I shall elaborate upon soon….

Until next time, (choose to) be the peace, love and joy that makes the world a friendlier, happier, healthier place for everyone… especially yourself… because you (and all of us) deserve it. (((hugs))) ~Christine

 

cosmic burp May 10, 2012

Be careful what you ask for; you may will get it.

The concept of measured time is a human device. The universe has no need for time measurement: The ‘here and now’ simply “is.”

Still, we humans are taught — conditioned by immersion — to percieve nearly all that we do as time-dependent. Work, family, vacation… Daily duties, weekly routines, special occassions. All are calendared and clock-related. Even the beat of our hearts and breathing in and out are measured with ‘per second’ or ‘per minute’ units of time.

However, to the creative intelligence (aka: God) that runs the universe, time simply does not exist except through the lens of the material realm (aka: our Solar Universe), thus it is a stretch for us (being immersed in time) to wrap our thinking around various concepts about ‘how life works’ because, at the essential core, such precepts ‘flow forth from’ a ”timeless’ (eternal) dimension of space.

To glimmer understanding and glimpse how things work in an ‘unknown’ realm we have to ‘imagine’.  And to imagine (anything) we must (first) willfully suspend our own disbelief, which is really rather easy but can feel quite challenging because we it requires close scrutiny of what we ‘do’ believe in, first. ur own predispositions… which in turn necessitates us ‘measuring’ the value of our (inculcated) ‘predispositions’ as standards for enhancing our overall quality of and capacity for living life.

In this spirit, consider the Akashic Record — aka: God’s Book of Life; aka: the memetic morphogenetic un-sub-conscious resonance delineated by Freud, Jung, and Sheldrake —  wherein every jot and tittle of humankind’s thought, word and deed is permanently preserved forevermore in minute holographic detail… kind of like a huge ‘digital video vault’ encoded in the aggregate electro-magnetic ‘aura’ of all living beings… much the same way that data is electro-magnetically encoded to the hard-drive of a computer.

Now imagine that on (what we humans would think of as) ‘a daily basis’, the creative (divine) intelligence that spawned us and this whole universal scheme of things scrolls through this imutable archive much the same way that any of us watch a high-def video with surround sound.

Remember that time means nothing in this (divine) dimension of life. Also remember that, because ‘free will’ is absolute, this divine power does not ‘decide’ (the good or the bad) of any ‘request’, does not judge the merit of any ‘need’, and does not contemplate the virtue (or evil) of any ‘want’… but simply making sure that all the (material) connections are made to ‘make it so’… No matter what the ‘it’ is.  

And the only real challenge to grasping just how wonderfully well things work this way is coming to grips with the comprehension that all the *shit* that seems to rule their life has been done to themselves, by themselves, and totally at their own request… even (and most especially) when they didn’t know they were asking for having it (whatever it is) done unto them.

In part, it is our culturally indentured servitude to ‘the experts” — be they teachers, physicians, politicians, pastors or parents — which gaits our eons-long lock-step with pain and misery. All around us we see how much easier (because it is ‘socially acceptable’) to blame and bully than to take ownership of our (self-inflicted) misery; simpler to cite ‘the devil’ (the ‘mean’ neighbor, the ‘terrorist’, the ‘enemy’) for malevolently dumping garbage on us and credit benificient divine intervention for the ‘blessings’.

Much less work to feel sorry for ‘poor-victim-me’ and moan about (aka” ‘protest’) the (alleged) injustice that to pull one’s self up by one’s own bootstraps and do what it takes to make things right….

But it only ‘feels’ like ‘the right way’ because we have not THOUGHT about it. We have not examined these pervasively disingenious permutations of culturally induced social dynamics from the ‘meta-level’ where time does not exist and from which the material realm flows.

Karma: A cosmic burp of synchronicity between cause and effect.

Live long and prosper…