Life is Your Story

"Two Zen monks in robes and shaved heads, one young, one old, sitting side by side cross-legged on the floor. The younger one is looking somewhat quizzically at the older one, who is turned toward him and saying "Nothing happens next. This is it." (from The New Yorker) I'm always waiting for what is next instead of focusing on what is now. There are people at this very moment (and you may be one of them) concerned, worried, scared in terms of Hurricane Irene and the damage, destruction and death she will bring. I would worry for my family and for all of those I love. I would also have compassion and concern for elderly people living alone in their homes without anyone to come and help them. Can you imagine being 80+yrs old and you really never leave your house/apartment unless it is for a medical appointment and you are suddenly alone in the dark unable to manage a safer situation - knowing that no one even realizes you are there? What about those su

I t was 1AM, I couldn't sleep and neither could my dog Gainey so I grabbed a headlight and we snuck out without awaking my other canine or my husband. We headed down a wooded path in the light of a half moon. We were surrounded by giant pines and the sound of crickets and bull frogs chatting by a pond. We headed up a small hill and sat on a large rock and looked up at the sky. In the country, you can see all the stars. Whenever I look up at the sky I think of my dogs who passed away almost a year ago. I lost both of them within a month of one another. They were my boys and I loved them very much. While Buddy was older his stroke and passing the next day did not come as a total surprise however my Buster was only 4 and his terminal cancer diagnosis came as a terrible, horrific force that I wrestled with all my might but in the end I lost that battle as did Buster. Deep in the sky silouettes of warm white clouds float like giant snowflakes and every now and then a star sudden