Exploring the Human Condition: altered states of consciousness

Posts tagged ‘peace’

WWOOFERS 4 CENTRAL TEXAS

Completely from scratch organic growing concern located 24 miles east of Austin off Hwy. 290 and 95. Real business, not just a homestead. Exploring non-profit status for sanctuary farm, cruelty-free organic food production model. Many skills helpful. Vegetarians/Vegans only need apply. Looking for 2-3 women willing to work in exchange for room and board, weekends off in Austin. Must be good with animals, especially dogs. Computer, carpentry, chainsaw/tree/mill work, therapeutic massage, yoga, solar panel/conversion experience desired. Artists and musicians welcome to apply. This will be a healing place for animals as well as humans. Do not hesitate to apply if you are also looking for a quiet natural place for healing.

This is very small just under 4 acres tree-covered for the most part sandy soil, with clay, actually it is just sand… Lots of ants so we are focusing on greenhouse gardening and aquaponics besides regular beds. We have a very experienced aquaponics man on board now if you are interested to help and learn. We can use summer only or long-term would be even better as full-scale all season growing is one goal.

I am the owner/founder of the farm organization. My name is Cissy and I’m 59 years. I am currently in process of seeking investment partner(s) as well. Goals would include becoming a CSA, Saturday staff on hand mornings for educational and hands-on learning of farm work for kids from the cities, and establishing a credible farm animal rescue including equine. Goal is to feed ourselves with excess to farmers market, and to invite special kids organizations to visit and enjoy feeding the animals and helping in the gardens on Saturday mornings. Flexible in design ideas, implementation and creation. I am planning to blog our progress from beginning to finale and will provide sparkling recommendations for interns.

If interested, you would be bunking with 1 to 2 other females, in the big back bedroom of this home, which is under renovation as well at this time, which has a big private bath. You would be expected to help renovate/decorate your own room in addition to growing, cooking, preserving food, taking care of the farm animals, and cleaning. The home has a nice back porch for morning meditation, laundry chores, and just enjoying the trees and wildlife. Since there are renovations to the farmhouse in progress, luxuries and basic conveniences have been modified to accommodate. We are only using materials found on Craigslist reasonable in price or free, we recycle reuse and repurpose most everything. We are in process of locating a new farm truck at this time.

So if you have a vehicle, or even if you don’t, feel free to contact cissyblue555@gmail.com if you are ready for a brutal central Texas summer to share good health, happiness, hard work and campfires at night. Lake Bastrop is fifteen minutes away. Your own pet or horse is negotiable. Any age will be considered of course. If you are a man experienced in any aspect of plant growing organically, or basic homesteading with skills and have your own travel trailer, we have room for a couple of trailers. Direct your questions to my email above. Thank you! Cissy

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To Be A Grower!

Good morning! Just a body made of flesh and bone, and one more prone to bare feet in the grass, this day comes after a long and freezing night. The last mean days of March are upon us, the weary remaining Kind Ones down in Tejas…

Looking North

Looking North

There is an interesting saying… “Knowledge is power.” I tend to disagree. Some knowledge could be useful in the right context for the right person. But hoarding knowledge to the detriment of many others, is not power, it is corruption. Perhaps the word “power” should be seen as a many layered concept. My own personal power lies not in control of anything, because spiritual practice has taught me that there is no control, ever. Detachment is a liberating attitude. I find that in this neutral observance, a strong connection to that which might be termed as my own personal refuge, or power is knowing.

To send your own boys to war, generation after generation, to fight and die for what? Excuse me? Yes, I enjoy a great amount of physical freedom, freedom of choice to a large degree, but protection? Nope. If some young men died to give me these freedoms, then something is wrong in Denmark, my friends. The war machine rages on, and we’ve been feeding it far too long.

There can be solutions of peace. There is still great abundance and cooperation can bring that all to life. To erase the damage done is another thing entirely. Complacent people, yes, but truly exhausted people have been caught unaware. There is no winning another war. Not a civil war, nor a global conflict. Anything coming even close will be the final stages of our complacency. As my contribution, I write, and I grow. Neither one is easy. But both are incredibly rewarding. Embrace the discipline! Do whatever it takes. Do what your own soul tells you to do! Put the television in the closet and cancel your satellite bill. Between learning organic growing, radio communications and basic carpentry (stick building), I stay pretty busy. Looking around, the efforts have not been wasted. Time passes whether we participate or not. When we do, with renewed intent, the resulting outcome is tangible achievement. That is where you find your rewards… in your achievements. I put to you here and now, it is your responsibility, and indeed a large part of your stewardship, to share what you have and what you know. It is our goodness and bravery that will surely save us.

We have a young man coming here to the farm in April. He is from West Texas and has family in Arkansas. He can see we have very little in terms of the trappings of the rich. What we do have is great potential to live a good life in peace, regardless of the chaos around us. And he sees that. I am offering to him all that I have. He found me. So we will see where this goes. Personally, my goal and greatest motivation is to someday be fully confident to call myself a Grower. My new friend is going to help me.

So Good Morning, my lovely friends! The ice too will melt, and the delicate blades of grass will emerge. Buds will show on the ends of the bare limbs, and we continue to fight the good fight. What do I believe in? I believe in the Sun, I believe in children, and I believe in the inherent goodness of all people. I send you all love!

Midsummer by any other name…

It is beautiful outside… the leaves are all full and green…  watering at least once a day with rains every so often…  I know it will be a very beautiful sky tonight.  Wherever you sit, you can see all kinds of life, big and small, all carrying on, in normal fashion.  I am the big giant they must watch out for.  And I am the giant who becomes furious that some thief came in the night twice and took all of my dill leaves, and I am left with nothing but a stripped stalk.  They didn’t care for the mints…  Someday there will be something there, like a nocturnal bird, who will eat them, every one…  everything seems to go to sleep… it’s kind of funny, even fish sleep… really!  These bandits have stripped my poor rose bush as well, she is in shock, with nothing but bare stalks. I have two beautiful big round rosey red tomatoes almost ready to be picked and these are mine, all mine! Today, I have saved the lives of three little orphaned kittens and one female terrier or mountain feist, who is totally beautiful and amazing and they are all doing great. We got to go see the vet today, and everyone is going to be fine.  Can’t save the whole world, but you can save innocent creatures one at a time…. Tonight I will make mint tea with St. John’s Wort flowers… and watch the sky for something amazing…  And my sweet animals will play in the fresh green grass!  Peace, my world…  I love you all so much!  

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Understanding Mother

Today is May 28th. It is my mother’s birthday, although she passed in 2001. Today, had she lived, she would have been 82 years old. Of course, a child as they age, will always look back to the choices made by a parent, and I was especially close to my mother, just never knew it, or understood her.

Had she given up the cigarettes, and the non-stop black coffee from dawn till dusk, she might have lived longer. Had she tried to eat more vegies, and less processed meats, maybe. White bread, of course, was the only bread. She came from the time of the Great Depression, and I heard many stories about living during that time. I suppose that coming from a place of “doing without,” caused her to continue to live like that throughout her aging years. I have long ago decided that it may well be impossible to understand what she thought, or why she said the things she did. Much less, I have tried and tried to grapple with the increasing likelihood that she had a violent nature that came out against our animals. I cannot begin to tell you how deeply sick and disturbed it makes “me” feel to look at that. But as the images continue to haunt me, there seems to be no other explanation.

How do I forgive that? My whole life has been spent in trying to save them, the animals, every one. They are even present in my dreams, which I call obstacle dreams, where there are things I must face and overcome, and at the same time there are always little animals, just sitting in odd places, waiting for me to save them. It is a very upsetting type of dream to be plagued with. I can only think that it is my way of balancing out the bad that was in my mother.

But this is not a time to complain or delve into the dark side of my mother. A friend recently tried to “push” me into a place of forgiving by pointing out that until I do that, I will never have peace. I am almost dawning upon my sixth decade of this life, and still I find it almost unbearable to think of the bad things, and to forgive them in her, if they are indeed true, seems so contrary to anything that is in me.

Her given name was Janelle. And they called her Missy. She was born with beautiful blonde curls that turned brunette as she became a woman. She came from the most affluent family of her very small east Texas town, and even with that, she had only two pairs of shoes, one for school, and one for church, and she was very blessed indeed. For many of the children of the town, had only one pair for all occasions, sometimes they were hand-me-downs, and did not fit properly. But kids make do. They do not know the stress and the worry adults entertain. But the problems my grandparents faced during the 1930’s and 40’s surely trickled down to their kids, as my mother was a child of the Depression. And it would forever mark her.

My grandmother taught the first grade in my mother’s school. And Missy was very bright indeed. In high school, she was on almost every page of the yearbook, until Senior year, where she virtually dropped off the earth. It is interesting to me, because my father first appears in this Senior yearbook, and is surrounded by girls, every time, as he was very good looking and very charismatic. But no Missy. In my heart of hearts, I truly believe that my mother got pregnant, and she had a baby. And I believe that because she was not married to my father at that time, my grandfather insisted that she give up the child. I can find no other explanation. Somewhere in this United States is very likely a sibling to me, that I have no idea about. It is very sad.

Later when she was nineteen, Missy married my father, Harold. I was born when she was 23. And then three years later, they had my brother Jon. They moved to a “city” named Kilgore where Dad worked in a printing shop. Dad was a good father then, as I remember, every nite he came home to us, and his friends also visited with their children. I still remember so much about that first house, the sunlight, my bedroom, the backyard, our pets. Even my toys, I remember them well. The thing I hated most was the torture that seemed impossible to avoid, the constant fussing and messing with my hair. From permanents which were “super horrible” to the curlers at night and the cutting of the bangs. My dad won a $50 prize for a photography contest when he entered a picture of my mother holding my chin and trying to cut my bangs, and I was giving her the “look from hell.” I have this one even now…

I do not know what happened to people. The food they were buying was not food at all. And the life they were trying to lead was so far from what they knew as children. It must have been very hard. My mother was an introvert, and she did everything she could to avoid close friends, and it was only in her later years that she learned to love people, and accept the good with the bad. And many people loved her as well. I have always been thankful for that.

Today I remember my mother. I feel sort of sad, sort of indifferent. I love her truly. If I could see her again, I would let her know that. When I pray, and I speak to God, sometimes I shift, and speak to her, as if she might be able to hear me. I am so sorry I didn’t understand her when I was younger. I was just trying to go to high school and later be a music student at the University. Those were such difficult times where I had to really hustle and having time to understand my mother who was 4 1/2 hours away, was not in the plan.

Today, on her birthday, I imagine beautiful irises. She always grew them as did my grandmother. In spring at this time, my grandmother would also have Spider Lillies in her front yard. Me and Mom would walk around the yard with her, on our Sunday visits, and they would teach me the names of the flowers and plants. These are some of my best memories. Now my brother owns their home, the old family homestead, and he doesn’t allow me to even go there. I cannot even find him, truth be told, as he doesn’t want to communicate.

How can one person in a family, always the “black sheep” still have so much love and caring inside, when the rest of the clan does not. Missy still has a little sister who is 72 now, living in Houston, and I wrote her a couple of months ago. But no answer back as yet. I will try again, as I am just that way. Momma always told me that being alone was not that bad. I guess she had to learn after she finally divorced with my father. They were just too different, and should have done it years ago, but because they had children, and because of the strict religious understanding of my grandfather, it was not to be. Not until my brother and I were grown.

So now I find myself alone. When the knees are giving out, and the back is all twisted like hers was. She never told me that until that last time I saw her alive. Then I could clearly see it in her back. The good news is that I also inherited her good traits. Like reading for one. I cannot get enough of books and the amazing people who write them. Amazon is my good friend! And I am smart, I have good intelligence. It was said by the preacher at her funeral that Missy was a brilliant woman, and could have been a surgeon if she had chosen that. How they could have known that is beyond me, but it was pretty cool.

My father died the next year. He wouldn’t talk to me either or see me. I wonder if he is sorry for that now. His own brother drove to Tyler from Houston to see my Dad and he was only there to help him, with money or whatever. But my Dad wouldn’t even go to the door. So I don’t take all these things too personally, really. It hurts, no doubt. But there are clearly reasons why that I will never know. All I can do now is try to temper the good with the bad. I can’t make up for their wrongs. But I can live my life as best I can, being true to the things that matter most to me. If other people don’t understand, that’s okay. We are all different. I don’t like being alone, no, not one bit. But it is far better at this age than being with the “wrong” person. Maybe someday, my age and my looks, my limitations physically, won’t matter to somebody. Maybe they will see the beauty I have inside and I will no longer have to be the “sheep.” Today, I can only wish the world Peace! We can have it. We really can. But first we must feed the babies. All of them. No child should ever go hungry in this world. No matter his race or his religion. And having Monsanto and Gates selling their vaccines and their franken-food to Africa and other undeveloped nations is NOT the answer. It is all about love, people. It is all about sharing and caring. And that, I can do. Thank you for reading. And Happy Birthday Momma! I love you!

can you hear me?

looking for permanent resident(s)

looking for permanent resident(s)

Over the past few hours, I’ve made several posts in the local places, but I want to try here…

Somewhere in this world, is a young man or young woman, or both, who feel lost like their wheels are turning and turning but going nowhere…

I do not have many answers, but a few… I do not have much money, but enough is enough. What I do have is great vision, abilities, and hope. And a little land.

This land is divided into two parts. There is a mobile home on my side, but to have a nice little home/cabin on the other side will take some design, vision, determination and love… trust… believing in things meant to be…

Surely somewhere in this world is a person who dreams of the opportunity to have a “real” family, for I have none. I have worked all my young life to have this place, only to be growing older quickly, and wondering what will happen after my time is up…

I love all people, all animals, growing plants, sharing, but I do have depression that I fight with a lot. No meds anymore, not my thing. Walking a more spiritual path, a sacred path, in earnest… Only thing that happens when I get depressed is I get sad, go in my room, or go for a long walk down the backroad with puppies, dream is someday to RIDE my MUSTANG, or walk him down the backroad….

If you want to have a horse where you live, it could happen here. I need help with fence work. We need to work on creating a beautiful little farm…. “what can you see, on the horizon…?”

When I was in my late 20’s and into 30’s I would have been so grateful for such an opportunity. Nothing is easy or perfect, that is worth having… true…

I have great vision, some resource, but I need encouragement, strong arms, willing hearts… home base… jumping off place for most anything, go anywhere…

wish to be healthy, live healthy, help others do the same…. we have land, some things in place to get started… a young couple that isn’t afraid to believe in miracles, a young man that just wants his “own” place, show me how badly…

A girl that needs animals in her life, out of the city, but close enough too. A girl that is a warrior for peace, can use her arms, her body, and her heart…
I have a few followers now, that read what I post… I have a couple of dreams that I will never give up on…. but I know when it is time to ask for help… That time is now. Please repost this, tell your friends, ask questions, write me, I have posted a farm ad on GrowFood.org also – trying local Craigslist – posted in several categories. No real expectations anymore, just open to what comes…

I need time to write, so I can generate some funds to make this dream a reality. I also want to play music again and I’m looking for a student… someone willing to learn from keyboard… or someone just wanting to jam/play sometimes….

I have long dreamed of an artist colony, where people can have their own little cabins/studios – free range chickens, maybe some goats, but ultimate goal would be 501 non-profit to help unwanted animals as well. Not sure how much more time I really have… would entertain all inquiries… please no mean people, only kind and careful… as I will be…

thank you for reading this and for passing it on… it will only take that one right person for lots of good things to come to fruition, I just want to share… and hope for a hand-up in exchange, when possible… must love dogs… cats… horses… need to own some kind of truck/vehicle – very close to Austin. I need time to do the things I want to do now, so someone else can grab the ball and run with it… ? ? ? Not Easy Street, far from it, and we’d need some miracles more than likely, but I do believe that this is a legitimate path to investigate…

Sometimes we just have to have some faith, trust in our Maker, to know where to turn, how to look ahead… this is just my attempt, again… are you there? are you listening? do you know of a good person that just needs a break? am one, looking for same… have a good week people… do some good out there… 🙂 thank you for your time and kind consideration and may you be Blessed in All Things, God willing… please, I ask with all humility, to re-post for me….

Friday night, 2016

The week is over.  We got all the work done.  Now we rest.

He’s out there building the campfire.  His girl is breaking little sticks for tinder.  The dogs keep bringing them the ball.  She throws like a girl.  He winds up like a Yankees pitcher and it flies over the trees way up high.

He kneels down and sets a log against another like a tee-pee.  Leaves start to crackle and a little smoldering of smoke rises slowly, carefully.

The women in the house were cooking all afternoon.  We have tons of vegies, salsas, salads, dressings, breads, he even makes cheese for us.  And the cold goat’s milk ain’t half bad either.

They put some kabobs on the grill, and he stands there turning them.  She’s over at the table, setting up things neatly, all in order, pretty colors, the umbrella is blocking the bits of sand and particles in the air from the fire.

The old man is sitting over by the big rocks listening to the water trickle into the bottom of the pond.  His boots are old and funky, wrinkled and bleached.  His legs are crossed at his ankles and he leans back in his chair and takes a long drag on his pipe.  And holds it.

There is pain and there is pain and who can say who has it or how much.  Maybe it’s the ones of us that refuse the crutches that complain too much.  To shade our eyes, from all that is harsh, and brutal.

At night, like this, the crickets and grasshoppers make such a racket.  The yard feels like a fishbowl and everyone is watching us.  Little reflective eyes pop in and out, smells are bringing them.

The old woman comes out, sits down hard, and adjusts her skirt.  Her feet are cracked in places, funny neglected feet of two colors.  They have walked ten thousand miles in this lifetime and will be ready to walk ten thousand more, when called upon.  She takes the rag from her head and the sweat collected on her brow is wiped away.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could wipe away all the fear, all the panic, so easily.  Wouldn’t it be nice?

House of Sticks

She was totally unexpected.  At the end of my rope, functioning on my last frayed nerve, I went to a depression site for support.  My first real experience with public blogging, my first experience with on-line friendships with strangers.

Was I lucky, open to most anything?  Yes.

Before I met Bea, I had a very limited view of Central Asian people.  I found out that speaking English is not at all uncommon.  That actually, many people in the urban areas live very similar lives as we do.  Despite their traditional religious views, they have many common concerns as we do, they like many of the things Americans like, they are just not so different.

She’s just a girl of course, just turned 21.  She lives in a very nice, very large home with her parents and brother.  She is independent, very educated, works in a bank now, and I have learned so much from knowing her, that I never would have known otherwise.  Their house is made of concrete and stone.  Her mosque is just feet from her front doorstep.  She prays several times daily, down to the floor each time, but she watches modern shows and films regularly, and she is generous beyond imagination.  She is also hip, cute, fun, very interesting, honest, humorous, kind, and she has grown up very very fast.

Her mother said she likes our “wood” houses.  Houses made of sticks.  I’ve heard that phrase before connected with framing – stick houses.  Despite our huge age difference, I am never less than surprised and delighted at her insights, her ideas, her art creations and her ability to sift through the bs and move forward.  She is very fortunate to be born into such a good family, generally speaking in her country.  But most of the time, she transcends her good fortune as a true and authentic individiual, worthy of great respect.  I try my best to give her that, I hope she never leaves me, and I count myself extremely lucky to have known this incredible woman-child.

So the next time you think in stereotypes from the media when it comes to other nations across the oceans, don’t.  I find that most people are remarkably intelligent, refined and evolved.  She is always open to my suggestions and advice, and will also tell me when it is inappropriate!  haha

I love my sweet Bea to death, and I will probably never ever even get to see her in person.  I won’t get to go to her wedding most likely, if she has one (not all Muslim girls are forced to marry their cousin), and I will most likely never hold her babies.  But I will “stick” it out, because that’s just how I roll…  If the internet and pictures are all we have, that will have to be enough.

The next time you feel down or blue, trust in yourself and the powers of intention and the Universe.  Go ahead and have an unplanned adventure, even if it is of the “internet” variety.  Trust in your ability to find a good path in everything, because they are out there, just waiting for you to make the journey to find them.  Peace world, good night, and God bless all the children of the Earth, every kind and color.  They are my children; they are your children.  There is no way that little Bea would be the person she is, were it not for her amazing parents and family, who have supported her, encouraged her, and taught her the correct lessons in life.  Like what is important, what is good and what is right.  I know all this because I have talked with her almost daily now for over a year, we have shared many difficult days in the life, even sad, scary and overwhelming days, and I never would have guessed in a million years that day I was feeling so depressed, that a young lady from a very foreign country, would be the reason I strive so hard to be a better person now.  🙂

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