The Best of Staying
Awake Ezine 2004
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January — March
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JANUARY 2004
A Gem for Michele
by Michele Lisenbury Christensen
I was dating this penniless but soulful architecture student. One day,
he said, "If I were to ask you to marry me, you'd need a ring, right?"
"Well, yeah... but..." He would brook no discussion, saying
he wasn't yet asking, as he had no ring. Instead, he took me to Seattle's
premiere purveyor of antique jewelry.
We found a ring we loved: platinum with filigree, smaller diamonds around
the edges of a beautiful center stone. It was old, gorgeous, and, as we
said, "It could only be better if its family history were our own."
Kurt, undaunted by the astronomical price tag, quickly sketched the ring
on a coffee shop napkin and wrote, "Thank you, God, for this ring
or a better one." Visions of diamonds dancing in my eyes, I was nonetheless
skeptical of his capacity to garner the funds for this beautiful bauble.
He didn't seem worried, however.
That weekend, we went camping. Upon our return, Kurt checked his voicemail.
"Honey, it's mom. I know you're planning to ask Michele to marry
you. We hoped you would from the first time we met her! I don't know if
she likes antique rings, but if you think she might like it, I'd love
for you to give her my mother's engagement ring..." When he slipped
the ring onto my finger a week later, it wasn't the ring we'd seen, but
it looked JUST like the picture Kurt had drawn. The fit was perfect. How
could I say no?
Ours has not been a smooth path, but any time my mind questions our union,
I think of the student who manifested the exquisite ring, and I remember
how richly endowed and infinitely supported we are.
Michele Lisenbury Christensen
Michele@Successmadefun.com
http://www.successmadefun.com
http://www.lisenbury.com
206 729 8497
Dale's Divine Distraction
by Dale Kurow
My mother died last July, very suddenly. She was okay one day and then
gone in an instant. I can still picture her sitting there smiling, her
eyes sparkling and full of love.
One of Mom’s passions was classical music. She was crazy about
Bizet’s Carmen. When she heard the first notes of that piece, her
face would light up, and she would become enthralled with the music. To
her, it symbolized beauty and the joy of life.
A few days after her death, I was getting ready to go to her memorial
service and feeling grief stricken and alone. Looking for something to
distract me, I turned on the radio. And there was the music from Carmen.
'Hello Mom,' I said. And I knew she was telling me not to be sad and that
she was with me. How grateful I was, and am, for being able to hear her
speak to me.
Dale Kurow
dale@dalekurow.com
http://www.dalekurow.com
Roz Gets Grace Plus Some
by Roz Van Meter
Understand, I don't believe some bearded Daddy in the sky fulfills my
wishes like Santa. Still … there is Something … there are
times …
One day I sat in an antique store, looking at old handkerchiefs, some
monogrammed. I thought, "I hope I find one with an R." The last
one was embroidered R V M. My exact initials.
I said aloud, "Thank you." A friend later asked me who I thanked.
I answered, "I don't know."
On a plane the next day my seatmate was a statistician. I showed him
my hanky and told the story. He was amazed. "Even in a warehouse
filled with monogrammed hankies, the odds against finding three in that
order are astronomical!"
"You're in a state of grace," said my priest friend later.
"I haven't done anything to be in a state of grace FOR."
"Dummy, that's what a state of grace IS."
The magic continued. The next week I visited friends in Virginia, and
as we drove into a small town, I said, "I hope I find an old ceiling
fan." First shop, no fan. Second shop, closing time, the lady said,
"I think there's one stored at home. Why don't you follow me over?
I have an ante bellum house with some lovely antiques you'd enjoy. We
can have tea."
Pulling up to her house, I said to my friends, "I hope she gives
us a memento of our visit." At the time, they thought me a bit presumptuous.
Over tea, our hostess said, "Leroy, go look underneath those vines
in the garden and bring what you find." He returned with old octagonal
bricks. "When they tore down the courthouse where John Brown was
sentenced to die, I bought those bricks. I want you-all each to have one
as a memento of your visit."
She also had the antique ceiling fan.
That was years ago. Now the fan is gone, I gave the brick to a collector
friend, and I lost the hanky. No matter. Maybe someone named Ruth Virginia
Miller found it and exclaimed, "Those are my exact initials!!"
Love,
Roz Van Meter
roz@coachroz.com
http://SexualityCoach.com
214 361 0500
Precious Pennies
anonymous
I walk a lot for exercise / solitude and occasionally I find a coin here
and there. I received an e-mail once about pennies being from heaven,
and the IN GOD WE TRUST on the coins reminder....
Anyway, I was having a particularly difficult time with my two girls,
estranged from them by their choice, and I said a simple prayer if I could
just find a coin, I would know that it was a sign that everything was
going to be okay. 'Walked my three miles and just a short distance from
the house, there lay TWO SHINY PENNIES, side by side!
I never really thought about the concept of "Staying Awake"
but you are right. There are things that go on all the time around us
that if we would only be more receptive and SLOW DOWN!
FEBRUARY 2004
Cosmic Kava
by David Moorhead
Recently, a friend reminded me of my fascination for cosmology, and gifted
me with a CD-rom video of a familiar philosophical lecture series chronicling
a story of our universe.
About two hours into the lectures of our cosmic origins, galactic neighborhoods
and how we humans fit into it all, what chimed all around me were these
(paraphrased) thoughts the physicist spoke:
Our sun, like Earth, is a living conscious organism, capable of pouring
joy, that is, pouring super-colossal amounts of cosmic joy into all of
creation. Moreover, we humans are capable of receiving joy, and are uniquely
designed to gratefully play in the beauty of our magnificent collective
creations provided here on Earth.
Those thoughts were like a double orchestra playing Mozart's zingiest
and loudest music in my chest! A celebration of my own seemed a good idea,
and maybe a fresh brew of kava would do the trick.
Yes! Zipping off to the kitchen, I carefully but hurriedly measured the
aromatic brew and powered up the coffee maker. Now, dashing back to the
computer, I began listening again to the story of the universe.
Moments later, I heard something unusual. I looked across the universe
of my desk to the coffee maker, and what did I see? The luscious coffee
was splashing onto the hot plate instead of pouring into the carafe which
had been left thirsting on the counter top.
I was suddenly awakened to spring back to the kitchen to put the carafe
where it belonged. In that timeless moment, I was the carafe, and had
unknowingly created an incident to remind myself that I might do well
to put myself back where I urgently belonged -- to catch the pouring joy!
David Moorhead
Carol Rescues Children
by Carol Stromatt
I had just finished a personal growth workshop in which I declared my
intention on paper to mend my relationships with several people including
my three siblings, with whom my relationship had been a bit rocky in our
younger years.
I took my list home and started contacting all the people with whom I
wanted to make amends. Each time I got to the sister I felt it would be
most difficult to talk with, I would skip her and go to another person.
Finally, there was no one else to call but my siblings. I met with my
brother and the meeting went well. I dialed my youngest sister, to whom
I was closest, no answer. Nothing left to do but dial my middle sister
and get it over with. She picked up the phone, and I froze.
She said, "I'm so glad you called, I had a dream last night. You
were injured and I asked the nurse if I could take you home and take care
of you. She said yes, and when I picked you up to take you home, you turned
into a baby in my arms!"
By then I was crying hard and trying to relate to her a dream I had one
week before. I dreamed I was in the house with my mom and there were children
in a little house in our backyard crying. As I ran out the back door toward
the house, my sister was standing by the door. I said to her, "We've
got to rescue the children."
We both agreed we were in the process of "rescuing the children"
we were, and bringing them forth with love to the present time. My siblings
and I are close now, and especially my middle sister and me. Thank you
Spirit for healing dreams!
Carol Stromatt
The Woodlands, Texas
Carol owns and operates a commercial real estate management, leasing
and development company with her husband. She travels, and delights in
their 4 children and 7 grandchildren, and being with their respective
6 siblings and families.
A Lesson in the Delivery Room
by Agneta Dyck
On January 22, 2004, my first grandchild was born. I was thrilled that
my son, Matthew, and his partner, Joanna, had invited me to be present
during the labor and delivery.
It was a long and difficult night, but everything progressed well until
we came to the moment in the early morning when we knew the baby was ready
to slip into our world. What a shock to see a little blue body with the
cord wrapped tightly around her neck!
Instead of being handed to her mother, my little granddaughter was rushed
to a medical table where oxygen was administered. But there was no reaction.
That’s when our wonderful doctor said loudly, “Talk to her!
Mommy, daddy, grandma, talk to your little girl. Tell her you want her.”
And so we did. Unable to get close to her, I spoke to her from where
I was. “I love you, little girl,” I said. “I’ve
been waiting a long time for you and I really want you in my life.”
Meanwhile, Matthew was able to push one of his hands through the group
around the baby and grab a tiny fist. With his other hand he reached over
to take Joanna’s where she was still on the bed. Thus linked, they
poured their love into that little girl.
One little gasp, one heave of her chest, and we were ready to cheer.
But there was no further movement. “Keep talking to her,”
ordered the doctor as she administered more oxygen. And so we spoke our
love continually, repeatedly, until finally the baby sputtered, gave a
cry and decided she was going to stay with us. What a powerful lesson
we learned that day in the power of love!
Agneta Dyck
Agneta@pathways-training.com
http://www.pathways-training.com
Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada
604 929 0166
Read Agneta's entire newsletter which requires Acrobat Reader here. Agneta
has been a recognized management consultant in the human resources field
since 1985 and was trained and certified as a Louise Hay Workshop Leader
in 2000. She is also a Certified Holistic Health Practitioner and a Reiki
Master. Her focus is the wholeness of the individual emotionally
and physically.
MARCH 2004
A Banner Moment
by Ginger Cockerham
My wonderful Aunt Virginia died peacefully at 94 last year. Several months
after her funeral, my brother and I decided to have a grave side service
with just the immediate family.
My Aunt loved animals and would adopt the mangiest most disagreeable
pets and transform them into lovable creatures. We wanted to put something
memorable on her headstone, so I immediately thought of James Herriot's
book, "All Things Bright and Beautiful."
I knew a line from the book was perfect, but I could not remember the
exact quote. I jumped in the car headed for Border's Book Store to find
the book and the quote. As I drove down Greenville Avenue, I passed an
Episcopal Church where a bright purple banner caught my eye. On the banner
were the words, "All Creatures Great and Small."
I whipped in at the corner, made a U turn and swung into the driveway
of the church. I sat there and read and cried. I honestly could not believe
it. I was stunned to see the quote on the banner:
"All Things Bright and Beautiful
All Creatures Great and Small
All things Wise and Wonderful
The Lord God made them all."
I came home, called my brother and told him, "Aunt Virginia REALLY
wants this quote on her headstone." It is the perfect tribute to
a precious lady.
Ginger Cockerham, Dallas, Texas
ginger@coachginger.com
http://www.coachginger.com
214 342 3346
A Vision Review
by David Moorhead
With you in mind, here I sit at my quiet computer in a quiet home in
a quiet neighborhood with the sun warmly smiling on everything in sight.
This is peace, I love it, and want it to flourish, everywhere!
For many of us, the heated political scenes in America, as well as all
around planet Earth, make for field after field of curiosities. And, just
now, my tears flow imagining what some of our global neighbors are experiencing.
From myriad options in the "What's Next?" field, two essential
inquiries pop up about this ezine's purpose :::
Are we remembering our innate capabilities?
Are we able to be surprised? I hope you've said, "Yes!"
Our wonder-stories of manifestation remind us readers of who we are :::
spiritual beings boasting human garb. Within a highly seductive, commercialized
world that might distract us from who we are by strutting every level
of imaginable fear before us plus a plethora of spotlighted deceptive
patriarchal practices, the vision for this ezine suggests :::
Our capability for creating is not an illusion.
Our capability for creating comes out of intention, spoken or not.
We want to be surprised by elegantly orchestrated manifestations.
Let's stay attentive to and sense a responsibility for our collective
creations as we, in our best socratic form, discover an intention is all
anyone is capable of creating out of -- including patriarchs. Let’s
create being in a state of staying awake!
January — March, 2004
April — June, 2004
July — September, 2004
October — December, 2004
Our constant curiosity
is key
to watching what’s being created.
~ David Moorhead |