Annecy Báez

Thank You Lehman College

2011-06-10T04:27:00.000-07:00

I want to thank everyone who made it possible to celebrate my transition from eight years as a Director of the Counseling Center at Lehman College to this new journey as Associate Dean of Student Development at Bronx Community College. The celebration was more than I expected, and my heart is full of gratitude.

Yesterday, I shared the story of my transition from NYU to Lehman College, but memory can be deceptive, it scrunches time into a few weeks, when in fact it took a few months for me to transition from NYU to Lehman College eight years ago.

As I reflect on the past, it all comes to me so clearly.

I remember that eight years ago I applied for the very competitive position of Director of Counseling in May, the Vice President was determine to pick the best candidate, and so he was cautious. I came in at the tail end of it all, equipped with all of the knowledge about Lehman College.

I read their Middle State Study, reviewed their website, I walked the campus, visited their Counseling Center, so I knew as much as I needed to know about Lehman. I hand delivered my resume, and a few weeks later I was interviewed, and then it took a few more weeks before I really had the job. All in all, I applied in May and started the job in August of that year.

In 2006, I took a workshop with the Center for Digital Storytelling in Berkley, that year, they were visiting the East Coast. I felt so fortunate to be able to participate in their wonderful, wonderful program.

To honor my experience at Lehman College, I created a Digital Story of my journey "The Path of Wisdom". I would like to share it with all of you.

Thank you all for the years of wisdom. In gratitude, Annecy.

And to the staff at the Counseling Center, remember you are the best! Thank You! Thank You! y Gracias, with much love and appreciation.

One Word/Many Voices Bi-Lingual Reading - November 17th @ 7:00

2010-11-11T15:07:00.000-08:00

One Word, Many Voice/ Una Palabra, Varias Voces
An evening of poetry in Spanish and English
Thursday, November 17th
7:00 pm

Annecy Baez
Celia Reissig Vasile
Judith Angeles

Hosted by Brenda Connor Bey

Get tickets at www.ArtsWestchester.org or call 914-428-4220 X 223

Hope to see you there.

Happy Birthday and Happy Anniversary

2010-10-31T11:13:00.000-07:00

On my way to Zazen, a gift on my keyboard.

Yes, it is my birthday and my anniversary.

At the Zendo, I sit.

I hear my teacher speak about autumn

The tress and the leaves.

Where are they gone?

It sounds like a Haiku, the way she speaks.

I sit.

I listen to the rhythm of my breath.

I celebrate quietly.

Amy

2010-10-30T07:38:00.000-07:00

Annelise sends me this photo created by Amy her sister. It was done on the Ipad in a software called Zen Brush.

There is something truthful about this image, these masks we wear to fit in. This half exposed and half hidden part of the self. Amy thanks for sharing this.

A bubble in a stream

2010-09-19T19:41:00.000-07:00

On one of my runs, I stopped to hear the soothing sounds of the little stream that crosses a bridge. Often in my dreams I hear this sound, it is always healing. As I stood there, it reminded me of this verse, we often chant it at the Zendo.

The Diamond That Cuts Through Illusion (Last Verse)
So you should view this fleeting world
a star at dawn
a bubble in a stream
a flash of lightning in a summer cloud
a flickering lamp
a phantom
and a dream.

My Daughter's Eyes

2010-09-12T07:26:00.000-07:00

This morning it is cloudy, and you can smell the coming rain in the air. The past two years have been a process of being present with what life has to offer. Death. The inevitability of our lives. Life .... to live every moment as if it were out last.

I pray for those who have guided my life.

In Memory:

I pray in memory of Sandy Taylor, the editor of my book, who passed away a few months after its release. I miss your presences. You were a dear friend and mentor. I want you to know how grateful I was for his perseverance and care of me. Your rare unconditional love and respect is dearly missed.

To my aunt, Jovita, who died last August of breast cancer, I still think I can call you in the Bronx, and that you will pick up the phone. To my uncle Nick, who died this August, I still remember how you reminded us in our last Christmas party to keep our traditions, to remain connected to family, to gather and celebrate as we always have done, and you told us soon our elders would be leaving us and we would become the mentors and elders for the younger one's who were present. You were so right. To my mother who died of cancer, and my father who passed away five years ago. May you all rest in peace. I miss your presence here on earth, but know that your spirit and loving energy guides my way.

In honor:

I pray also in honor of my niece who is battling Leukemia and my life partner whose resilient spirit guides my way, they are the heroes in my life.

My mission:

My mission this year is to run the Hampton's Half-Marathon on October 2010, as a member of the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's Team-in-Training. I'm completing this event in honor of ALL those battling blood cancers but especially my 21 year old niece, Melissa Del Rosario, who was diagnosed with Acute myelogenous leukemia (AML) in January 2010.

I will be sending a signed copy of my short story collection, My Daughter's Eyes and Other Stories, to the first few donors. My Daughter's Eyes and Other Stories, winner of the 2007 Mármol Prize, is a collection of fourteen interrelated stories about young Dominican women living in the Bronx as they deal with the choices they make in their everyday life.

Please make a tax-deductible donation to support my participation in Team-In-Training and help advance LLS's mission. Each donation, even $5.00 dollars, is one important step closer to a cure. Donating is easy, you can send me a check payable to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, and mail it to me: Annecy Baez, Ph.D. Lehman College/CUNY - The Counseling Center - 250 Bedford Park Blvd West, Old Gym Building, Room 114, Bronx, New York 10468 or you can visit my fund raising website to make a secure donation online: http://pages.teamintraining.org/wch/hampton10/abaez3

In Memory - 9-11

2010-09-11T15:29:00.000-07:00

Start/The Stopping

1.
my flames rise to the gulf of you.
i am the orange parachute in your black and white dream.
as my brilliance flares, your leaden tent
begins to form as skin.
my light is too slow in reaching your constellation.

2.
depression takes over
in the two minutes since you have left.
you move over me like frost.
if one hundred seconds
have wrenched blood from my heart so fully,
how will hours pass?
this minute prays for childless seconds, the time filled like ashtrays.

3.
the evidence has mounted:
a hand held loosely, by you and my wrist.
you surround me fruit-like, the rind torn away.
the pulp without shelter flows unconsenting.
the moon hits and hits
again. i trim the hangnail moon and close the blinds.

4.
there is no action kind enough to express heartbreak.
I am left
shut,
the quietest of blossoms.

Stella Padnos

Arrived @ 13 miles

2010-09-11T09:29:00.000-07:00

Finally, did a long one today. I was in the company of wonderful women while we ran, walked, jogged for 13 full miles. Finally, when I arrived home, my husband and our dog Suki, were waiting for me. I laid down on the front lawn, and I just took a breath. I arrived at my destination. I took this picture to show the beauty of this arrival. The changing colors of the leaves. For some reason, I often get an error message on my iphone, "nothing do undo" which reminds me that everything is as it should be.

As you know, I'm training to run the Hampton's Half-Marathon on October 2010, as a member of the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's Team-in-Training. I am raising funds to help stop blood cancers from taking more lives. Along with my own family, I've met many people who have battled these cancers. I know that my participation in Team-in-Training brings them all hope.

I'm completing this event in honor of ALL those battling blood cancers but especially my niece, Melissa del Rosario. Melissa my 21 year old grand-niece, a student at the college of Mount Saint Vincent. She was diagnosed with Acute myelogenous leukemia (AML) in January 2010. To battle this, we need everyone's support to cross the ultimate finish line - a cure!

Donating is easy, simply fill out the enclosed pledge-form with a check payable to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, and mail to Annecy Baez, Ph.d. at Lehman College/CUNY - The Counseling Center - 250 Bedford Park Blvd West, Old Gym Building, Room 114, Bronx, New York 10468 or you can visit my website to make a secure donation online: http://pages.teamintraining.org/wch/hampton10/abaez3

Sincere thanks to all who have donated thus far, and to all of my family, friends and colleagues, your kind words of support, silent loving hugs mean a lot to me.

My Daughter's Eyes and Other Stories

2010-09-08T06:00:00.000-07:00

I am reading again this fall.

The Westchester Arts Council and Brenda Connor Bey,
One Word/Many Voices Bi-Lingual Reading

November 17th in the evening.

I will also be reading at Bronx Community College to read in their Center for Teaching Excellence. TBA

This helps me stay on track with this other life of mine.

The Leaf

2010-09-07T20:43:00.000-07:00

The new academic year has begun at Lehman College and other colleges around the country. As I walked from one building to the next, I found the most beautiful leaf. It was flying around campus trying to get my attention. I took it in the palm of my hand, but realized that its autumn colors would go well against the Lehman College folder I was given by the Social Work Department.

New semesters excite me. When I was young, I couldn't wait to go back to school. I loved the scent of sharpened pencil, and the vomit smell of books. I loved the promise of the crispy autumn wind, and the possibilities that was sensed in the air. It was as if someone had made a promise to me, and I waited for it with great joy and anticipation.

Arroz Sin Pollo - 21-Day Vegan Kickstart - The Cancer Project

2010-09-05T09:32:00.000-07:00

Starting the 21-Day Vegan Kickstart - part of the Cancer Project. Aiming to be a Cancer Project cook by next year. So, this is a good start. Although I try to keep a Vegan lifestyle, I am sometimes more Vegeterian than Vegan, and I love the Guacamole Salad on Bedford Park int he Bronx which has grilled chicken galore, and I love Tita's Pasteles. So, no more eggs, and no more Guacamole Salad with Grilled Chicken and no more meat Pasteles.

Definitions - from "Nutrient Concerns for Vegeterian Runners"

Semi-vegetarian
Semi-vegetarian diet excludes some but not all groups of animal derived products (for example those who avoid meat but not fish).

Vegan / Strict vegetarian
Strict vegetarian diet excludes all animal derived foods including meat, poultry, fish, eggs, and dairy products.

The issue with a Vegan diet is that I am a runner, and so to run you need lots of protein and carbs for energy and fuel. To read more on this issue read the article where I obtained the definitions (see above).

What is the 21-Day Vegan Kickstart?

It is part of the The Cancer Project. The 21-Day Vegan Kickstart is a wonderful step towards health and empowerment. This is a 21-day structure of weekly e-mails for healthy eating. I know some may think that a vegan lifestyle should not be the only healthy alternative, but I have seen and experienced its benefits. To learn more about this, and the research available do go to the Cancer Project.

So start your 21-Day Vegan Kickstart - September 6th, 2010.

The Wishing Tree

2010-09-04T04:15:00.000-07:00

Two Saturday mornings ago, our Team in Training walked and ran down the hills of Tarrytown to the Village. It was a great morning, but too hot. I talked about Dreams and the power of Dreams and about Robert Moss who wrote The Three Only Things: Dreams, Coincidences and the Imagination. One day, I'll blog about dreams some more here as I have taken various workshops with Robert, and I have also taken his Dream Training workshops.

As my running partner and I spoke about dreams, we suddenly spotted a tree on Main Street. I thought they were poems attach to a tree and blowing in the wind. Once I had seen a tree of poems, but then I thought "it might be a dream tree". Dreams and wishes attached to the limbs of the tree.

I got close.

it was a Wish Tree.

I started to read them: "I wish..." and "I wish.." and I stood there and wished.

Coincidentally, as I am googling Robert Moss' website, I happen to find another website called (coincidentally),The Dream Tree. A resource for dreams. I know Robert Moss. He would smile in this way he has, and he would say "Um..." and that would say it all.

Wishing your dreams come true.

Team in Training - running to save lives

2010-07-07T16:22:00.000-07:00

I thought I'd post this here on my blog. I'm training to participate in an endurance event as a member of The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's (LLS) Team In Training. All of us on Team In Training are raising funds to help stop leukemia, lymphoma, Hodgkin lymphoma and myeloma from taking more lives.

I am completing this event in honor of all individuals who are battling blood cancer, but particularly for my grand niece Melissa Del Rosario who was diagnosed in January 2010 with Acute myelogenous leukemia (AML).

Mel, I will have you in my thoughts during every mile of the race. You and others are the real heroes on this team, and heroes of the stories I will tell one day. And, to my husband, Dave, whose incredible resilient spirit guides my every step. I love you dearly, and pray for your recovery. You are an extraordinary person, coach and chef extra ordinaire, I do miss deeply your strange international concotions.

To battle this, we need everyone's support to cross the ultimate finish line - a cure! Please make a donation to support my participation in Team In Training and help advance LLS's mission. Sincere thanks to all of my friends and colleagues. Your kind words of support, and silent loving, hugs say it all.

To support me please go to my fundraising page .

Thanks for your support!

Cancer Project

2010-06-17T06:16:00.000-07:00

Last week I found out about the Cancer Project’s Food for Life Nutrition and Cooking Classes for Cancer Prevention and Survival. All of the classes are designed by physicians, nutrition experts, and registered dietitians to promote cancer prevention through nutrition.

I was so excited about this, as I am a promoter of wellness particularly when it comes to cancer. My mother passed away to cancer, her sister passed away to breast cancer last august, and one of my maternal cousins is a breast cancer survivor. Two other members of my family are battling cancer as I write this.

I envisioned sharing how certain foods and nutrients promote or discourage cancer growth, and teaching others how to cook simple and healthy recipes at home. I couldn't contain my excitement as their eating philosophy coincides with mine. I want to teach people what they teach, how to put the power of nutrition to work in the battle against cancer.

Well, the application process deadline was for June 15, according to my memory and so I set out to make sure I could send my application process by the due date. The application requirements are not easy. You need a recent resume, a video clip of your self cooking, references from colleagues, and your job among other things etc.

I quickly, sent out a query to three colleagues to be my references, but they never got the query because I sent it to myself. On Saturday, I sat four of my husband's running mentees who were visiting for a BBQ, and sat them down to be my audience as I cooked a vegetarian meal, but my husband who was distracted and unaware of my cooking demonstration popped in the video while I was cooking and said, "What are you doing?" and interrupted my video clip. I was almost done too, covering the pot, so I stopped the taping, but by mistake deleted the clip.

Then the mentees encouraged me to start again with another meal. Finally, the due date came, and on Tuesday afternoon when I was printing my resume and cover letter to immediately run to the post office to mail it, I ran out of ink so I just said to myself, "it's not meant to be" and I told myself to let it go and prepare for next year's application.

Now, as I write this and add the banner to support cancer awareness and nutrition, I just realized that the deadline is not June 15th, but June 25th. Yes!

College of Old Westbury/SUNY

2010-04-10T06:51:00.001-07:00

Thanks to all of the students who participated in the reading/panel discussion on Latino literature. I gave you my moo card for my collage work yesterday, and I hope you were able to find your way here. Thanks for the support.

My best wishes to all, keep on writing and doing what you do best to achieve your dreams.

Stay in touch in poetry and stories. Big hugs for the smart little boy name Christian. Click the book to purchase.

The Red Hat

2010-04-06T17:04:00.000-07:00

At lunch time, she shows me the Tattoo, a cute little Red Hat, with a black feather on the side. The Tattoo is fresh and glistening. She's 53, and always kind to me. Whenever I need something, she is always there, ready to give, always ready to give.

"It's from a poem," she says about the Red Hat tattoo, and when she recites the poem it resonates with me.

A few hours later she sends me the poem via email.

Warning

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple

With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired

And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

And run my stick along the public railings

And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

And pick the flowers in other people’s gardens

And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

And eat three pounds of sausages at a go

Or only bread and pickle for a week

And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and

things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

And pay our rent and not swear in the street

And set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practise a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Jenny Joseph

Snow Storm

2010-02-28T04:55:00.000-08:00

Photo Credit: Annecy Baez - Canon G9

The Friday snow finally closed Lehman College, although we had to wait. In the morning CUNY alert sent a message to my husband that said his college was closed, but mine was delayed by 2 hours. Then an hour later, they sent me an alert that said we were closed. Lehman College never closes.

Finally!!!

They did.

It was impossible to go to work. First, I could not dig my car out of the drive way. Secondly, my daughter's car had a huge pine tree that had fallen on it, thanks to the accumulated snow on her car, it provided a cushion and there was no damage. However, after helping with the shoveling, I hurt my back, and every breath I take...hurts.

Before that, I walked around the area taking pictures. The neighborhood was a beautiful site. All weekend, I was inspired, a story here, a collage there, cooking,cleaning, organizing, and then just being present hearing the silence.

When it snows it is quiet here, no cars, nothing. Oh, except the little brook which was making some music in the distance, and so I made a little video which I shall post here soon. I love to roam around with my Canon G9, it is magical.

Suki

2010-02-26T13:15:00.001-08:00

Photo Credit: Annelise Valerio

For the longest time my husband wouldn't let us get a dog. If I mentioned that I was going to buy a dog, it was the only time I would see him really upset. I always had a dog growing up, so I missed having one. I couldn't understand it, so I would let it go. When we got married, I had a cat, Misha, and my husband loved the cat, so I didn't understand what was the issue with the dog. "Get a another cat", he would say, but I wanted a dog.

This Christmas, our daughter and I rebelled, and we said "we are getting a dog". I felt that the energy of a dog was healing, and that in some way it would bring him healing too. So, we got a dog, a Japanese Chin, and who has ended up loving.... loving the dog.... Him.

The dog loves him too.

My gift to him today is a little picture of Suki in a tiny frame to put near his desk. I think he will love it.

Practicing with Sound

2010-02-21T04:50:00.000-08:00

Photo Credit - A. Baez, Kashi Ashram, Florida, http://www.kashi.org/

For a person dreaming of sound, this workshop at the Zendo today is just on time. Practicing with sound will be framed by four periods of Zazen, sitting meditation, and Kinhin, walking meditation, as well as our regular Dharma talk. Later, we will practice sound with instruments. All very much on target with my dreams.

Sound has a profound impact on the brain and body for healing. When I dream something, I honor it. If you dream of sound, I must read everything about sound. If I dream of chimes, I buy them and place them in my prosperity corner which happens to be this room from where I sit to write. Sound heals, the body, mind and spirit. I believe sound is creation.

Dreaming of Wind Chimes

2010-02-20T10:32:00.000-08:00

Dreaming of sounds again, this time it was not mindfulness bells, or church bells, but chimes, wind chimes. Interestingly enough, chimes have been known to increase health, wealth and prosperity.

The Bells of Santuario della Consolata

2010-02-16T19:31:00.000-08:00

Every morning I dream of church bells ringing. It is so clear that I awaken to see if it is true.

It is like living in two different worlds, this world of my life and the one in my dreams. There I live near a church and the church bells awaken me in the morning.

It is like living in a parallel universe, I am convinced there may be this other me that lives near a church, so she awakens to the sound of bells every morning.

They say that

"Through the use of bells the faithful are reminded of Christ's presence, His importance in our lives, and our need to honor Him in adoration and prayer. " From Bring Back the Bells

Happy New Year

2010-01-01T12:15:00.000-08:00

May your coming year be filled
with magic and dreams and
good madness.

I hope you read
some fine books and kiss
someone who things you're
wonderful, and don't forget
to make some art -- write or
draw or build or sing or live
as only you can.

And I hope, somewhere in the next year,
you surprise yourself.

~Neil Gailman

Mindfulness Bell - Wake Up

2009-10-11T22:06:00.000-07:00

All night long, in my dreams I heard this mindfulness bell. It was very interesting. Here is this video with Thich Nhat Hanh.

I am not sure about the coughing in the back, almost sounds like a vulture. Comments on this site stated that the coughing was distracting, it was painful to hear. It sounded like Bronchitis. I hate Bronchitis, it feels like your lungs have been smashed with a bat, and your bones aches, ugh!. In the distance you can hear other people coughing. I was wondering why there were so many ill people in the background. Maybe the cold, the conditions of living a monastic life, I am not sure.

Well, the sound of this mindfulness bell was in my dreams, I do have a mindful bell alarm on my Blackberry, but I had turned it off the night before so that it would not wake me. Is the bell in my dreams reminding me about mindfulness, about being mindful or is it an alarm, to "Wake Up"?

Well that' s almost the same.

Here you can download a mindfulness bell into your computer and set it for meditation, writing or other activities where you want to be mindful. I have it at work to remind me to take a breath, to walk, to be grateful for the blessings and the lessons even when they are difficult to take.

The Memorial

2009-09-29T22:49:00.000-07:00

In between my own grief, the clinic, the illness I so tenderly care for, my hands soothing the wounds caused by the poison that flows to give him life, I dressed for a memorial. All somber gray, the morning is cold and overcast. I pray.

I prayed for someone I did not know and whose death has been felt so deeply.

I pray for him, wishing that in this other side he travels that he is doing well, maybe swimming in a cool pool of blue water, I pray that he is at peace. It is for him I have added this poem here. I recently read it at another memorial. So many losses lately, life being life.

The Thing is

Ellen Bass

To love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've ever held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
When grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief.
you think, how can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.

The Knight's Armor

2009-09-29T00:00:00.000-07:00

Dream :

He wore an armor to protect his body. I asked how he put it on, he said, he touched his heart and the armor came on. I asked how it felt, and he said it was pretty heavy, so I asked him to let me carry it for him for a bit, and so I touched my heart, and his armor automatically came on to me.

Waterfall Dream

2009-09-12T21:22:00.000-07:00

Had a beautiful dream last night

I lived in this luscious place

There was this roaring waterfall

And, a little creek

near rhododendrons and other flowers

I could hear the water fall so clearly

the noise woke me up, and the scent

of the pine-oak forest still remains

In Memory - 9/11

2009-09-11T05:23:00.000-07:00

My collage from "freedom series" to view more go to collagehttp://collageart-annecy.blogspot.com/

Thinking of 9/11 today. I was at NYU then, and from there I could see the towers fall. The memories of those who are gone is still palpable. The things I saw unforgettable. There is a Memorial at Lehman College today.

Back then, it seemed as we were all expressing our loss creatively and healing through writing. I certainly wrote many poems of my experiences. I also created many collages, creating them seemed to soothe me. Here is one of my collaged called "Freedom" and a poem I wrote for my daughter who was in middle school at the time.

The Week of September 11, 2001

We talked about childhood stories late at night

She wants to know what stories I read to her

Lately when there is noise she jumps,

Thunder strikes at night like bombs on the ground

She startles easily

I tell her about Good Bye Moon and other stories

I read to her

I tell her about how much I enjoyed her as a baby

She was precious to me, sweet and smart

She wants more stories while she holds me at night

Her body full and developing, her hair in braids

Jennifer Lopez, Christina Aguilera, Brittney Spears

all compete with a memorial to Aaliay who died last month

There she has an angel, the bible, a prayer and an incense stick,

Her memorial, her altar to her

I take a breather, remembering

Stories of loss, stories of the dead, photos of the missing

I hold her taking in the scent of her strawberry shampoo

She holds me and says tell me more stories mommy

I like the sound of your voice.

Blessings to all.

Labor Day Weekend

2009-09-06T13:16:00.000-07:00

Photo Credit: Annelise Valerio

It is Labor Day Weekend, a day that symbolizes the end of the summer. A national holiday that celebrates our workers.

It seems like everyone is away. There is a strange stillness around me, as if the earth just decided, for this weekend, to be still. I hear nothing but the haunting sounds of the chimes in the Patio.

There are no planes passing over, no cars rushing by, all a deep hush. It is for me a weekend of reflection.

The weather today has been glorious. I sit here in my study and contemplate for a minute, the tall, old pink Rose of Sharon. There, underneath the Rose of Sharon is our little stone Buddha, and behind it are tattered prayer flags blowing prayers in the wind.

I write.

This week, everything that can happen has happened: family loss, illness, broken down cars, the money comes and flows out as quickly as it goes, the constant busyness doesn't leave much for art, or for sitting down leisurely to talk about life with family or friends. I am in mourning, for those who are gone, and for things past.

The wave of sadness comes like a roar, taking over all that is dormant within me, stirring up all of my old losses, grandmother, this aunt, this uncle, a friend, the things that could have been, but didn't come to be, the child I lost, the loving father that is gone, and my heart still as the wind today begins to feel this ache so deep, and yet... I am forever grateful, for I have been so fortunate to experience all that is life.

So, I take one breath. Breath by breath, I reflect.

This deep breathing, this being in touch with the stillness within, reminds me of the unexpected love and kindness of those who so deeply care for me. Two dozen white and pink roses gathered by my staff to cheer up my mournful eyes. On Friday, Dominican bread with Abuelita chocolate from my staff, to ease the hunger for peace. A sudden reminder from my daughter of the beauty around us: a bridge seen through her compassionate eyes, nothing escapes her.

Then, the long awaited house renovations completed, and my partner's praise, "you are a soldier," and I say to him, "I was raised to be one," and like the soldier I was raised to be, I married one, him... un General... the one who crosses bridges between life and death, forever in these two realms, living his life despite it, becoming an ally with death. I his companion in this unexpected journey crossing these bridges with him.

I give birth today on this Labor Day weekend, birth to the new beginnings and endings that are to come.

Here is a great poem by Rumi.

" Today, like every other day

We wake up empty and frightened.

Don't open the door to the study and begin reading.

Take down a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.

There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground."

Buddha Dream

2009-08-02T13:12:00.000-07:00

I was walking towards the house and there were all of these amazing Buddha's around me like the one's in the Chang Monastery up in Carmel, New York.

Yes, I felt at peace, at home.

Content.

The house waits for us.

Faith in Mind

2009-07-19T05:29:00.000-07:00

(image from lukestorms.wordpress.com)

I Couldn't leave to my retreat with the last blog being the dream, "Conversations with Death".

I have been thinking about Zen. Zen and the Brain, a great book by Dr. Austin on the power of Zen, meditation and the brain. In the end, he says, "Have we learned anything about meditation? If so, it will not be from applying EEG electrodes to the scalp, but from the deeper act of praciting the meditatiive mode ourselves and infusing it into the present moment. Finally each day practice starts to become life's meditation, by one life within all life," I thought this was so beautiful.

He ends with a more modern translation of the Faith Mind by Hsin Hsing Ming's, a 140 unrhymed verse. It is my teachers, teacher's favorite. I did not like Austin's his translation though because the first two verses he has "The great way is not difficult just avoid picking and choosing" and in Soto Zen and what I am learning is that we do something other than "avoid". So, this is closer to the version our teacher gave us at the Zendo.

The Great Way is not difficult
for those who have no preferences.
When love and hate are both absent
everything becomes clear and undisguised.
Make the smallest distinction, however,
and heaven and earth are set infinitely apart.
If you wish to see the truth then hold no
opinion for or against.
The struggle of what one likes and what one
dislikes is the disease of the mind....

It continues, but I shall leave it alone.

To read more: lukestorms.wordpress.com/.../
Verses on the faith mind of Sengstan (Sosan) 3rd Zen Patriarch, translated from the original Chinese by Richard B. Clarke, Zen teacher at the Living Dharma Centers, Amherst, Massachussets and Coventry, Connecticut.

Dream- Conversations with Death

2009-07-18T21:19:00.000-07:00

Just recently Robert Moss, my official dream teacher, said the most interesting thing to me about death and cancer. I spoke to him about speaking with Cancer, and he said, “it is better to have a conversation with Death than with Cancer,” and he added, “you have to go straight to the source,” and he reminded me "Cancer has no power, Death does". “It is with death that you should be negotiating,” he said.

Death our companion, our friend, it comes with us into life and goes with us to the next, for ever present and compassionate, it is there to help us navigate through the worlds, and yet,I do not want to converse with it. I think it would be too talkative, long winded and a bit annoying, so I have avoid it, but maybe some day I’ll have that conversation.

And then this dream happened.

Dream- Encounters with Death

I am with my husband and our daughter in this place that looks like Ireland. There are these beautiful woods, and it is so green and lush, I should have immediately known it was a dream. There are children, so beautiful they look like angels. We go to a farm where we will have dinner, and there are people of all ages having a nice dinner, and who comes to visit.... yes...

Death!

Death has no face -

Death has no face, but she's a blonde Irish woman. She goes around taping people on the head. Tap! Tap! Tap! right on the crown and they are gone. I am shocked. Shoot, death is here and taping people and they are dying. She taps a woman, a child, and old man. We are gasping, and crying and upset, and Death is shocked. "I thought I was being kind," she says, "look all I do is tap" and she taps a little boy, "and he falls asleep" and she points out that dying does not hurt, it is our fear of it that does, she says in the sweetest voice.

I am not buying it, and I am thinking of our escape.

I am with my husband and daughter, and an old man. I hold on top the old man for fear that Death will take him, and Death says in her faceless way, "He will die soon anyway, so why do you hold to this old man," and I say "it's not his time," and she laughs. She goes away. I am sweating. My heart is palpitating, but my daughter and husband are kind of accepting. They are not rebelling as I am.

Digging Graves -

Death escorts us to the grounds, and makes us dig graves for those who are dead. At least its not our own graves I thought. Yet, at the same time, I am thinking of my escape, but then I think, "Can I escape Death?"

Death an impuslive adolescent -

A young adolescent Irish girl, a kind of sexy and impulsive youth does not want to die, so she goes up to death and they talk, and Death makes her an assistant.

Oh, shoot, I think, now this impulisve, hyperactive, sexy adolescent is Death, and she's teasing children, and old women, making believe she will tap them and then not tap them. She likes her power. Then Death decides to take her into the woods to have a conversation, while we are digging the graves and then I kind of wake up , but fall asleep and then dream this dream again, but in a different context.

Death the Therapist -

Suddenly death is a therapist, not any old therapist either. Multiple degrees hang from her walls, and she has a face, kind of, and she wears glasses and she's a marital therapist. My husband and I are consulting with her, but I am planning to negotiate with her and all of the time I am saying, "What the hell is death doing providing therapeutic services," yet latelly I have been thinking that maybe Death is therapeutic, or atleast the awareness of it, for we go by life thinking that we are not going to die, and not mending old relationships that need mending, or changing old patterns that needs changing, we go around thinking we have all of this time, and then death happens and you realize all of these things you didn't do that you could have done, so this encounter with Death is showing me so much, to be in this moment, to take risk, to do what I love and discard what no longer is useful in my life.

Dream - Romancing the Stones

2009-07-11T13:12:00.000-07:00

This dream is for my Active Dreamer friends from Robert Moss' Teacher's Training.

Dear Active Dreamers:

Had this dream where we created a dream community among ourselves, it was an amazing association.

We invested, owned stocked and provided funds for charitable organization. In the dream, we were meeting to talk about dreams, but then we started to talk about which organization we wanted to invest in and contributed funds too.

It was a great conversation, but I cannot remember all we talked about. I know we owned a house that looked much like Seascape. We would meet often there to do both ourdream work, investments, and charity work.

Someone in the group who had lot of children had a husband who was either a contractor or builder. He was telling the children how we built what we built from the ground up.

As he tells the story to the children, he takes them to a little puddle in the backyard, and he said, "we found the land just like this nothing, just a puddle of dirt, and we built everything from nothing," and the children were very impressed.

Then, you are not going to believe this, but .... our investments were in stones. We owned these precious stones that were priceless, and we are each rubbing them which in my dream was "romancing" them, like the dream I had a Seascape.

The funny thing was that the precious stones in our hands could become what we wanted. So, one person rubbed it and a tree grew on the stone, another had a flower grow on it, and another rubbed it and money grew on it. We knew how to do this, if we were together, and the power of our togetherness could make it all happen.

In the dream, we are sitting around in a circle, with the stones on the floor and we are moving them around, and talking about them and rubbing them. I can't remember the conversation, though, but I know we would use some for one of the organizations we wanted to fund, and this organization had something to do with needy children.

Our dream community was about dreaming, and using dreams to change the world, but also about organizing and making money to change the world. It was about the power of thought, love and community.

Well, be well dreamers. Find a precious stone to romance.

On Being Busy

2009-07-10T03:39:00.000-07:00

http://www.csabaosvath.com/

Sometimes, when I come home, there is no time to write. That's why I like the early morning, I do my morning yoga and meditation and I write. There are moments when I am more consistent, and other times when I carry the practice in my heart and the writing in my head. At night, it is hard. There is very little time for much, particularly if it is a long day, or a late night for whatever reason. I am torned between my multiple worlds, my varied activities, my life. When I say I am sooo busy people often look at me as if I am doing it on purpose. When I told my Zen teacher that I was sooo busy, she looked at me and asked me to ponder on something ancient.

“Who is the me who is busy?” she asked.

Zen teaches me to be present, to take a breath in and out and be here, now awaken, aware, and so I am aware, aware of this me who is busy and so this weekend, I begun to unbusy myself.

I began by letting go of multiple blogs, invited virtual spaces that force me to create another site I don't need (My Space, Hi5, Multiply, Facebook), and multiple e-mails for whatever reason I created them (gmail (for blogger), yahoo (for facebook), yahoo (for those people who give away your email to list servs), hotmail (for the student at Lehman who cannot reach me because they have their own virtual windows live version that the faculty cannot participate in) and optonline (because it comes with my cable vision), and I have to remember all of the passwords which have become more complicated (8 to 20 letters, one Capital, the rest lower case, one symbol and a number… what?).

So today, I continue my cleansing, my letting go, my being free of distractions and attachments, and being so busy

Zen - Dogen - The Movie

2009-07-07T04:28:00.000-07:00

This movie does not have English subtitles yet, and all I can make out when I saw the trailer was "Dogen", but it is nice to see and to know that one day I'll be able to see it and understand it. Supposedly this place has the DVD with subtitles, but I have yet to see a trailer with the English subtitles. So beware: http://www.cdjapan.co.jp/detailview.html?KEY=ASBY-4356

Who is Dogen?

Dōgen Zenji (道元禅師; also Dōgen Kigen 道元希玄, or Eihei Dōgen 永平道元, or Koso Joyo Daishi) (19 January 1200 – 22 September 1253) was a Japanese Zen Buddhist teacher born in Kyōto, and the founder of the Sōtō school of Zen in Japan. He was a leading religious figure of his time, as well as being an important philosopher. Dōgen is most known for the Treasury of the Eye of the True Dharma or Shōbōgenzō, a collection of ninety-five fascicles concerning Buddhist practice and enlightenment.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D%C5%8Dgen

What is this movie about?

Follows the life of Zen Buddhist monk Dogen Kigen during the turbulent Kamakura period. Dogen's parents died when he was very young, and his devout mother's final wish was that he go on to become a monk and work for the welfare of all beings. The experience of having his parents die gave Dogen a special insight into the fleeting nature of life and sparked his search for enlightenment. With this insight, he eventually succeeded in spreading his method of seated meditation throughout Japan, and managed to bring salvation to the hearts and minds of many people along the way.

http://www.film.com/movies/zen/25910101

Independence Weekend

2009-07-05T03:40:00.000-07:00

New York City is so quiet on this weekend. Clear blue skies, rose scented morning breeze after long days of rain, and then this morning when I woke up it was as if the earth had stood still, such a hush.

I say Hello, to this day, to this blog on my anniversary month. I started a blog in July of 2007 because it is easier for me to write in the summer than it is to write in the winter time when I am so focused at work that life becomes surreal.

Working in an academic setting, as much as I love it, drains me of my creativity, for all of the creative in me goes to work.

I am a puzzle of a woman, a creative adulterous torned between multiple love affairs, art (painting, drawing, collaging, book art, photography), meditation (zen, mindfulness, yoga, Reiki) and Dreams. Then there are the many therapeutic activities that I love as I am a therapist, from mindfulness based therapies such as Acceptance Committment Therapy (ACT), Focusing, Solution Focused Brief Therapy (SFBT) and Interpersonal Psychotherapy (IPT).

All of this I bring into my life, from my life to my work, each enhancing the other.

Slowly, the writing becomes less, a thing of the past.

So this weekend, I decided to clear space. I lit up some amazing incense and cleansed my study. I have gizzillion books, and decided to start giving them away to friends, family and other. I'll sell some in Amazon, although that doesn't work as it used too. Now, wjen I go to sell a really good book on amazon, there is always someone selling the book for $2.00 dollars, and I just wonder how they do it. So, I don't sell now that book prices have depreciated substantially, and the cost of shipping is higher than the sell of the book.

But, clearing space is good.

Letting go of what is no longer needed inside and out, that's what I am doing this weekend.

Clearing space, allowing things to be, opening myself to new possibilities without fear.

Clarissa P. Estes - an inspiration

2009-07-04T03:42:00.000-07:00

I re-read the Clarissa P. Estes, The Radiant Coat: Myths and Stories about the Crossing Between Life and Death , mostly because I was trying to write a story and it has to do with a Radiant Coat. When I bought the book the Radiant Coat, I had forgotten the book was about death.

Such a coincidence as death has been roaming around, uninvited and ambivalent as usual.

So you see, death comes a long and the next thing you know if follows you like the shadow you are born with, this invisible coat we wear.

When my daughter was five, I had all of the Clarissa P. Estes’ book on tape because I was really busy. I was a wife, a mother, a doctoral candidate at NYU and the Director of a children's trauma center. All day long at work I heard about child abuse, sexual abuse, etc.

I would find peace in hearing Este's books. I would put them in my car as I drove here or there. My daughter then five once asked me, “Mommy, do you run with wolves?” mainly because I kept on talking and hearing and talking about that book, Women Who Run with the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype.

I loved that book.

I remember I wrote a story a la “Red Shoes,” it is in my collection My Daughter’s Eyes and Other Stories, mainly inspired by Estes’The Red Shoes: On Torment and the Recovery of Soul Life (Cassette). Most of my storis in m collection I started to write in 1995. Many of them have a fairy tale thread to them, the Red Shoes, Pinnochio and even Awakening which when I first wrote it related mostly the Mia's sleep, she slept and wouldn't wake up after her trauma, then I changed it to she couldn't speak.

So, when people ask me what fiction writer influences my work, I always find it so hard because so many writer’s have influenced my work, but also so much non-fiction has influenced my work, and my therapy work has influenced my work, and my life, and the children in my life etc. However, Clarissa has influenced me very much, and I am so appreciative of her work.

So, today is Independence Day Weekened. It is a weekend to reflect on Freedom, and to me it is about Freedom from fear. Freedom from entanglements. Freedom from the me who is so busy. It is about connectedness to, not only my most authentic inner self, my inner knowing and wisdom, but interconnectedness and interdependence to all that is.

On Writing

2009-07-03T03:31:00.000-07:00

My writing – I don't write stories every day, I think of them and ponder upon them. I carry my little notebook and write thoughts about what I want to write, in between meetings, conferences, retreats. I love technology so I write on this blog, and other blogs. I created a blog for my Art4Wellness group on visual arts and the healing process, and then I created one for the Mindfulness Meditation group I have at work too. I created a blog of the Counseling Center events, but then I didn't have the time to manage all of the blogs, and my own, and I had not yet hired the person who would be interested in such endeavors. At some point, I really started rolling and started a Twitter for the Counseling Center to stay connected to students and the events there, but instead of students, I have been followed by porno sites, so I am trying to figure out how to let Twitter know what I am being tweeted about. It was so easy, one day I was on Twitter, then next day I had fifteen tweets all body parts in diverse positions, and exposed in acrobatic ways. Well... I let go of Twitter for now.

But then I moved some of my blogspot entries to wordpress, after I did all of that, I realized that I rather keep it simple. No more virtual spaces, and being followed by porn bloggers and twitters, no more emails, just one blog, although I admit I missed the idea of my work blogs for my Art4Wellness and Meditation, I still have them, they are just closed for now until Ican figure out what their function is and if they will be used. I decided for now, no distractions, no spreading myself thin. No blogs on diverse issues. One blog should fill up all that I am and that's ok. Writing. I moved away from it as I focused on blogging.

There are so many distractions, it is easy to get caught in them and not write. The point is to free space and time for writing.

At work, I focus on my work, preparing for the fall in summer in between academic appeals, intake dispositions and program planning. The writing happens in many ways that don't involve sitting, and then one day I write. Painting helps to write. I draw and doodle my dreams, and then I write. I answer letters, and emails regarding my book, My Daughter’s Eyes and Other Stories . I read when invited. I pursue other venues for reading. I promote the book, all when I can, but more and more there are times when I can't, when my life is overloaded with multiple activities and I cannot participate or accept invitations. Instead, I write, and I read letters from readers. I cherish them deeply, their stories inspire me to continue writing.

Sitting

2009-07-02T03:30:00.000-07:00

“We sit for the benefit of others,” she said, and since then, these words surface in my mind from day to day. I have been thinking about the me that sits, the me who is there sitting silently allowing thoughts to pass undisturbed. I thought, When I sit the me that I am surfaces even more. If I were to sit to avoid a me that I do not like, the truth is that this unliked me will surface ever so brightly to remind me of its existence. I sit to allow the real me to come out, like the teacher said, the inside to come outside, this is an inside and outside practice, I guess, the me that is hidden, the true me when merged with the me that I do not like becomes the most authentic me.

Cancer and Death

2009-06-29T03:41:00.000-07:00

Cancer and Death

Cancer has come to pay a visit. Just like that out of the blue, it knocked on the door and came in uninvited, and did all of the devastating things it does. After the grief, the loss, the temper tantrums, the tears, acceptance comes slowly, and you begin to live each day as if it were your last.

Enjoying the presence of loved ones, knowing that life is fleeting, "like a bubble in a stream."

Lately, though we have long conversations with Cancer, and lately it is thinking that it might not stay, it might just leave.

My dream teacher said, "it is better to have a conversation with Death than with Cancer," and he added, "you have to go straight to the source," and he reminded me Cancer has no power, Death does.

"It is with death that I should be negotiating," he said.

Death,though, seems like it would be too talkative, long winded and a bit annoying, so I have avoided it, but maybe some day I'll have that conversation. death our companion, our friend, it comes with us into life and goes with us to the next, for ever present and compassionate, it is there to help us navigate through the worlds.

Sesshin

2009-05-15T15:40:00.000-07:00

On my way to Sesshin, I feel like a runner going on a marathon. I imagine other practitioners are stretching their bodies, and minds to prepare for along sit of three days.

The day could not be more beautiful, clear, sunny, everything seems to sparkle. Upon arrival, we are given a room and yogi jobs, our duties and mine is appropriately weeding. I take my chore with metaphoric seriousness and cuddle it like a child.

When we sit, I am good. I am flying and I'm just fine. The fatigue of hours of sitting has not yet hit me, the hills that I have to run up have not yet arrive. I am on flat surface, and on flat surface, I am good. I can go on like this for a while, it is the ups and down, and highs and valleys that do me in, the long treks with nothing to see around me that does me in too. If I go along and I just jog along quietly, I can do excellent, and then images come up. I see a road of trees, long and endless. I see the Buddha with and leaves around his face and a kite, I am the kite flying around and around. I hear voices. I smell peppermint and coffee grind. I sit and I can't believe how much I think. The thoughts are there on and on, like blinking lights. I accept them. I let them be.

Dream of Vines

2009-05-11T21:48:00.000-07:00

Dream - I show DH the vine that is growing around the French doors of the patio. I am most concern with the roots growing so deep they can break the foundation of the floor.

He looks at the vine, and says, "No, let the roots grow, its ok" and so I let it be and enjoy the vines growing on the door.

Early morning the dream was vivid, palpable. Now, as the day has worn, the memory has faded and only this dream and image remains, a vine growing from the patio door. I am wondering what it mans in regards to my Zen journey? In what ways can I honor this dream.

Interesting!

The Dream of Fire

2009-05-07T18:19:00.000-07:00

A long stormy night filled with spectacular thunder setting my room a glow. The light blinking and blinking. Awakening me. The lightning a precipitant to dreams of fire.

Fire.

Dreaming of fire, after writing about fire, about body heat, and then this dream. Narrative unremembered, only an image remains of a Mythic Tarot card.

The Ten of Wands.

In the Ten of Wands Jason, and the Argonauts are in an expedition to seek the Golden Fleece. it is a heroic tale, an adventure, a courageous journey. In the end, it is a metaphor, it is about how the creative imagination can move events, and create solution.

In the Ten of Wands, Jason is overburden by events. He has returned triumphant, and the Golden Fleece lies at his feet. He is oppressed by the heavy weight of the ten flaming wands which lie across his back and shoulders. This card implies that the individual may be burden and oppressed by having taken on more than he/she can deal with.

To many worldly concerns.

Something needs to be let go so that the creative process can be refreshed and a new cycle can begin.

Knowing the meaning of the card, now. I see. And in seeing I am aware and this awareness I am suddenly becoming.

I know what to let go of. I know what I have to do to allow the creative process to come through.

The dream a gift.

Zazen and Body Heat

2009-05-06T20:35:00.000-07:00

The evening was cool as I headed towards the Zendo. Layer upon layer to warm me up from the coldness of the Center. Old gray shawl in hand, just in case to place over shoulders.
The teacher explained Zen to the beginning students while we sat motionless. Breathe steady. Calmness. I like to hear her speak. Wish I could record her Wednesday introductions to Zazen.

This is not misery practice, she says. I listen. Then silence, we steady ourselves. Motionless. I am chilled, grateful for the extra layers. Images come to mind floating above my head. I dismiss them. Watch them. Aware of them, I am, but only noticing. I see them, I hear conversations with myself. I see plans, and ideas, and to do list. I see the past and the present, and the future. I see.

Once I am tired of seeing, I let go of the image and breathe in. I am comfortable, and yet, I find myself slowly getting warmer. The heat increases. It is strange and unexpected. It is energetic. It takes over. There is nothing I can do. I breathe in and out. Will myself to allow i t. I feel it in my body coming from the root of me, slowly creeping up to create a double layer of heat so profound, I could set someone on fire. My hands are warm, heat on the palm of my hands. I am sweating. I don't move.

I tell myself this is just another body sensation trying to trick me in to loosing concentration. I concentrate on the breath. In I breath... Out I breath.... and I let go of the images. The heat increases so much, I think I am on fire. On fire I am that I wish I could take off a layer or two, but I am not suppose to move. I will affect the concentration of the other sitters. I stay quiet. Yes, that is the trick. Soon the heat will fall and I will be chilled again, I remind myself. I take in a breathe. Concentrate on the breath, not the heat, the breath. In I breath.... and Out I breath. I urge my mind to be steady. To go with the flow of the heat. Go. It stops. Slowly. Great. Then I am cool again. Me again. Focusing again.

Coolness.

Later, during talk time, a woman tells the teacher she is wondering about this body heat, the heat that takes over during Zazen. Wow!!! I am surprised. She describes my experience and wants to understand it. "It is not a hot flash," she says, this is different. The teacher is attentive. She asked her if she practices Kundalini. I am impressed. She mentions the energy rising like in Kundalini. She mentions energy work. She speaks of distractions. She urges us to let go of this heat moving us away from our sitting. She says not to be attached to this experience. Not to make it special.

I mention that I too felt the heat and she notes that both V., the other woman and I , have a lot of experience with energy work. Just let it be, she says, and put it out there where it may be needed. I like that. I touch my hands. they are so warm I can fry and egg.

Zazen is a body practice. Like other body practices, it is an energy practice too. I research this issues of body heat and Zazen, or body heat and meditation. I find interesting things on Tibetan Buddhism and Yoga, among other things. I liked the idea of the heat as an inner fire burning our ignorance, greed and delusion. I liked that.

Dream - The spaces between us

2009-04-28T20:59:00.000-07:00

The Spaces Between Us - In this dream, I am going to Borders Books to hear a talk about Katagiri Roshi's new book. When I get there my teacher, who is hosting the event is near a table of books. When I approach her, she tells me Katagiri is in the room talking about his book. I look at her and I tell her that Katagiri Roshi is dead, and she looks at me sternly and she says, "Well, you have not learned anything about the spaces between us," since then I have been thinking of this thin line between the living and the dead. I do believe that there is no death. I do believe that there are others who have passed to this "death" place are still here close to us, their time and space mingling with mine. I leave this dream to share, but others I have made private for many spiritual reasons.

Jikai Dainin Katagiri (1928-1990) , aka Hojo-san Katagiri, was a Soto Zen roshi and the founding abbot of Minnesota Zen Meditation Center in Minneapoliz, Minnesota where he served until his death in 1990. He was important in helping bring Zen Buddhism from Japan to the United States. He is also the credited author of several books compiled from his talks, the two most prominent being Returning to Silence: Zen Practice in Daily Life (1988) and You Have to Say Something: Manifesting Zen Insight (1998) and most recent Each Moment is the Universe: Zen and the Way of Being Time.http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dainin_Katagiri

Buddha's Birthday

2009-04-19T16:08:00.000-07:00

Light colored puffy roses, purple tulips, white double daffodils, blue grape Hyacinths, babies breathe in a blue vase, and more lush greenery decorated the Zendo today.

The scent of spring sweet and comforting, like coming home.

Sitting still, we sat, chanting we chanted, and then stillness as we heard a story.

The Birth of the Buddha.

A gentle bath as we cleansed ourselves.

The beginning. A rebirth.

Here now, she said.

Present.

Awakened.

Upstairs in the small apartment we sat in a warm spring day.

It is the beginning of Jukai class.

A commitment to a path, embracing the precepts.

The Buddha, the Dharma and the Sangha.

Taking refuge.

The beginning of a way of life that has been part of my life for some time now.

Soon.

I will sew and in sewing,

I will come to see.

My Daughter's Eyes Stories - Lehman College Podcast

2009-03-28T14:22:00.000-07:00

I happen to work in a place that honors people, every day there is someone being honored for their accomplishments, so on February 25th, the Women's Studies honored me during their faculty read for Black history month.

I was torned between multiple activities that week, counseling sessions with students, clinical supervision and clinical training, a conference here, a meeting there, and then the budget had to be done by March 13th, all of this on top of family, friends, art, yoga, and zen.

I understand why people write and don't work, or they write and work part time. Writing takes your body and your breathe, it is an all day body practice, when you love writing, you don't want to do anything else but write, and yet, I love my work as much as I love to write, and I cannot let it go for writing. I have learned to live in this polygamous relationship, that is, my writing and my work, understanding I love them both.

So, on February 25th, I had to read for Women's Studies, as promised, and they hooked me up to a microphone and all, and created a little podcast that I shall share here.

It is so interesting to hear my own voice, the ummm, and ahhh and the catching of the breathe, and then the sound of my voice, loud enough so that the sixty students, and faculty that where there could hear me.

It reminded me of the first time I heard my voice on a tape recorder, or the first time I saw myself on film. So, here is the podcast, I shall share with you today :

http://www.lehman.edu/lehman/test/itunesu/baez.html

The Lost Tribes of New York City

2009-03-26T18:28:00.000-07:00

Finally, warm days and scented evenings. She asked me to see this short little video,

The Lost Tribes of New York City from Carolyn London on Vimeo.

The sound of laughter, again. Refreshing.

It doesn't matter how much stress one is going through, how deep the loss is, or the fear, one needs to take a break from it all and laugh.

Life, I will love you again

2009-03-23T18:54:00.000-07:00

A cool, windy spring day and on my way to a wake. There were so many poets and writers, and my dear friend and her husband, their love and respect held them together through this loss, a sister, a friend, a creative soul, gone.

It was like no other wake.

A crowd of family and friends, and the creative energy of those who loved her. Poetry was read through the crackled sound of grief, and a veil of tears.

The Thing is

Ellen Bass

To love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've ever held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
When grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief.
you think, how can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.

Connections & Disconnections

2008-12-28T09:14:00.001-08:00

It is cloudy, and the temperature will rise to 66 degrees they say. I go out and smell the melting snow, the ground is wet and the air is warm like spring. As I stood out there taking in the silence of this morning, I thought of connections and disconnections. I am not sure how this has come up, but maybe because my stories relate to injuries, wounds we cause others, and those other cause us.

I thought of how people come in our lives and leave us just as easily. Sometimes you know why, other times you are always wondering "What happened?"

I like to explore those stories.

As I develop stories that relate to the issue of disconnection, I can't help but be a therapist. I think of theories that draw upon this area. Last year, I visited the Stone Center at Wellesley College to learn more about Relational Cultural Theory (RCT). Relational-Cultural Theory is rooted in the work of Jean Baker Miller, a psychoanalyst, along with three psychologists, Judith Jordan, Irene Stiver, and Janet Surrey.

RCT describes the impact of disconnection, and how disconnection occurs via empathic failures, violations, and injuries. Relationships can be strengthened when you can go to the other person and express your feelings, and if the other person understands and responds in a way that is validating and empathic, the relationship is strengthen, and so does your relational competence.

Problems occur when we are not respected for our feelings, when the other shows no empathy or validates our point of view. What often happens is that we as the injured party may retreat, disconnect, or begin to hide aspects of ourself in a relationship in order to secure it. We become twisted, begin to loose a sense of who we are and become less and less of our authentic self.

What I have seen many times is that mostly we do not assertively confront those who have hurt us; mostly what I see is that people just disconnect. They delete you from their cell phone, and their lives. You may never know why. Sometimes, the wounds of an old relationship still lingers. Other times, we move on.

The point is that people need people. According to RCT, to grow as an individual to heal and to transform, we need each other; we need authentic, empathic and responsive relationships.To learn more about RCT please read Judith V. Jordan's online article, The Development of Relational Cultural Theory. What are you exploring this coming year?

Chasing the Moon

2008-12-13T12:26:00.000-08:00

So it happens that I was coming home last night, and the traffic was really bad. It was not raining, but the flood on the parkway had blocked roads and there were delays.

My daughter calls me and says, "Have you seen the moon?" and I said, "No, too many clouds from here," and she said, "It's the most amazing moon I have ever seen. It's huge," and she extended the huge, "and it just takes up the sky, and it's like a huge round cheese cake, I've never seen anything like it."

I told her about the Full Moon being the largest moon in 15 years, and about dreams. I was told too, that our dreams would be the most significant on a full moon, and that dreamers are most prolific during this time.

After speaking to my daughter, and as I was getting close to home, I spotted the moon. It was in between dark clouds, but it came up all of a sudden. It was amazing, it was like no other moon I've seen before. It seemed to be so close to me, but when I took my camera out of my bag, it was too late, and the dark clouds covered it again.

I got home, rested, and then decided to go chasing the moon. When I went out, I didn't have to go far, the moon was above the house. It was not the moon of before, it had moved further away, but it was still very bright and I decided to take a picture of it, not believing that I would capture it clearly, but I did. As I looked at the bright moon in my camera, it was as if I was holding it in my hand. I was elated. So, here it is.

Dream - To Vote

2008-11-04T19:37:00.000-08:00

I had this dream in 2000, it was about war and voting, about the hope, choice and the power within us. I tried to create it as a digital story, but my software was not cooperating, so I decided to make it as a podcast using podbean.com. This dream seems so clear still. Dreams are like that.

Powered by Podbean.com

The Path of Wisdom

2008-10-24T04:22:00.000-07:00

A Digital Story is a story told in five minutes using photos and other media, as well as narration and music if you want too. I studied with some really great people from the Center of Digital Story in California. This was the Digital Story I created during my first workshop. It all started with a dream.

Impermanence

2008-06-23T21:01:00.000-07:00

Sunday - 8:30 a.m., arrive at the Zendo, for Retreat, we will sit (Zazen, meditate) for 30 minutes, then walk (kinhin) for like 5 minutes and then do this again until about 11:00 and then there is Dharma Talk - the teacher speaks about the teaching of the old Buddhist Text. We practice the Soto Zen style of Buddhism. Then after that, there is care taking activities, and then there is lunch somewhere and then Dharma Talk again and then there is walking meditation, Sitting, Walking, Sitting, Walking.... review of the day. I am renewed.

The Dharma talk was about "impermanence". Impermanence is a concept known in Buddhism as annica, The teacher says that it is the undeniable and inescapable fact of our existence: that we will grow old, we will fall sick and we will die. Everything in life is changing. We are constantly in the state of flux and change. Freedom comes from knowing that everything changes, nothing stays the same, things are here one day and gone the next.

Once I travelled to the city every day by taking the Metro and I would look at the river from my window. Every day I noticed that the Hudson river was a different color, a light blue, a dark green, a musty brown. In the summer it was a different river than in the coldest winter. I thought love and life were like the river and I wrote a poem published in Callaloo about that (see end of entry). That love itself changes. How can we stay marry for so long when love is always changing? When we are always changing? What sustains us?

Change is constant. Everything changes. People change. Life changes. We change. Nothing is the same. Every moment, I learn and I live and I die and become a new person. Every moment I grow. This growth is precipitated by my daily existence, if I leave myself open and free to learn from the world around me. So, here's the poem flow.

Flow

My husband kneels before me opens my legs

and rest his head upon my right thigh

I stroke his face his beard and trace with the tip of my

index finger the shape of his nose

I caress his bald head where gray wiry hairs

fight back the test of time

I kiss his bald spot as if my kisses could make

things grow

Ovewhelmed as I am by my loving feelings for him

I take a deep breath and think of love

how precious it is when one is present and

it is happening

Love

so calm like the flow of the river in the morning

The river

muddy ice at times thick turbulent waves at others

like love unpredictable

And because of this

I enjoy this time of loving breathing in this memory

to retrieve it like a jewel when the time comes

Blue

2008-05-02T20:45:00.000-07:00

Blue was the story of Julie who early in the movie looses her husband and child in a car accident. After the death of her loved ones, Julie decides to let go of all material possessions and emotional connections, yet she is not able too. Despite her wish to disengage, and emotionally disconnect, Julie is still somewhat opened to connections and drawn to them. She calls a man she ones knew to see if he still loves her, and she has sex with him and then leaves him. She watches from a window as someone is beaten and then she watches the prostitute as she is giving herself sexually to someone next door. This issue of "watching" and being "watched" is interesting because when she is told that she lost her husband and child, it is to an eye that can mirror the other that we as audience witness this telling. There were a lot of interesting points for me throughout the movie, the movie felt like a dream, the color, the movements, the silences in between very little dialogue and the movements of objects and people were all very interesting.

They set the tone of "blueness" and "being blue" and being sad, of pain and loss. However, throughout the film I was most interested in perpetration, the acts that were committed against others as the movie unfolds: for example, her using the man sexually and then discarding him, when she moves to her own apartment she witnessing violence against a man and then he trying to save himself goes into her building, but you are not sure if he was saved or not, then the issues with the prostitute and the tenants trying to evict her, as well as the issue with the rat who gave birth in her apartment, very metaphoric, but she can't get herself to do kill the rat and the pink little mice. I liked the image of the old woman trying to recycle a bottle. This was very metaphoric and at a point in the movie where you know she cannot yield to this wish to disconnect from others, but she wishes she could. To me the old woman with her hunchback was alive, she was well dressed, and in high heels despite difficulties in walking, and she was "recycling" meaning using the old to make something new, she was not giving up. She was alive.

She was a reminder to the young woman that life continues and that she should not give up. In the end, she makes connections with the prostitute, but even this relationship is in some ways perpetrating, "I help you out, but eventually you will have to give me something in return." She helps her by cleaning the apartment after the cat eats the mouse, but then she calls her in the middle of the night to come to her assistance in a strip club which could end of being a dangerous situation or encounter. I don't think a "friend" would actually ask this of another, yet this stranger felt that she could ask this of her and that in her coming, she saved her life. This encounter seemed all twisted to me in terms of friendship and relationships.

The end of the movie became confusing for me, I think she was having sex with an underage male, the boy who found her cross and witnessed the car accident. If this is true, this didn't seem to me like an ending that was positive, it was as bad as the wife's mistress smoking cigarettes while speaking to Julie about her relationship with her husband, and her child. She didn't seem to care the damage she may be causing the unborn child, and all she cared about was that the self would not be hated by this woman Julie whom she didn't even know. It seemed like all of the relationships in the movie were like a Picasso, somewhat off, and a collage of what each other thought a relationship should be, but was not quite sure.

The Sea

2008-04-13T20:44:00.000-07:00

Reading The Sea by John Banville was like diving into a deep blue sea, mysterious, penetrating, full of beauty, but it was also scary to me in it's depth and what it stirred within me. I loved the first sentenced, "they departed, the gods, on the day of the strange tide," and he immediately takes me into the world of Max Morden. This story is told beautifully and painfully slow so that I have to stay focus and listen. I wish that I myself were near the sea focused on Banville's narrative rather than being torned by the multiple demands of my life. I read and stop and read again, trying to relate to the text and understand what it means to me as I am reading it. I think of metaphors, "Sea" ad I think of "see, see, see," and childhood chants and games about the sea, see, see. I think of what the sea means to me and I remember my mother's death to cancer and how when she was dying that year, we lived by the sea, and I could hear the roar of the waves at night as I slept or was awaken from her painful cries. She died of pancreatic cancer and I was sixteen.

Banville takes me to a place of nostalgia, loss and memory. The Sea - or "sea" does not only remind me of the depth of the sea, of the depth of loss and pain, but of what can and cannot be seen. It is a metaphor of vision, of seeing, of going deep inside and taking a look. The recommended reading in pages 134 - 135 about Ana and the photographs support my thesis of vision and seeing and the ethics of emobidment. Ana needs to document history, to show what she sees. She is showing who she is both self and other, wounded and ill, but empowered in this ability to document, to show, to photograph. Photography - art becomes a healing medium for her. She embodies the other, she is with them through this lens, through vision. The photos become bodies coming together, losing themselves in each other and blending. In photographing them, she is creating a singular body.

La Jevis (2008) notes that "Bodies/Selves cannot exist without other bodies/selves, nor are the two reducible to one another. The uniqueness of an individual is expressed and exposed by being with." Through art, photography, Ana is an artist and researcher, using photography, her vision, her EYE, as a relational understanding of meaning making. She is trying to make sense of her world. Well, I will stop here, but I have to say that this is a meditative book, one to read slowly and take in every sentence. It is a text to read and learn from.

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

2008-03-10T20:43:00.000-07:00

I really loved reading, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, "A short text of 137 pages, with 29 fragments of narrative events, laments, dreams sequence, flights of fancy, backdrops of the life imposed on him" (p. 186) as Noted by Raoul, but what a profound effect such a short text had on me as a reader. I loved the way he narrates his story, the tone he uses, his humor, his insights and how he sees others, the things he chooses to tell us of his experience through out the text. With limited vision he can see through people even himself in an insightful, compassionate and accepting fashion.

I really felt that something in Bauby's background had to have prepared him to deal with such an experience. In his travels he may have developed his own philosophy of life that incorporated some Zen Buddhist traditions. I read the text wondering if Bauby had studied Zen Buddhism. He is in this forced meditative state, yet he is aware, much more aware than those who are not in LIS. In this meditative, self reflective state, Bauby does not see life as bleak, but as it is. He travels from the past to the present, not regretting his present, but accepting that it is different from his past, it is what it is. Suffering is desiring for something to be different than what it is rather than finding ways to accept what cannot be changed. He does this remarkably.

In "Each Moment is the Universe", Katagiri a Zen teacher contemplates impermanence, the present moment and the ungraspable nature of the past and future. He discusses time as part of our inner being, made manifest through constant change in ourselves and our surrounding. How do you handle yourself in a moment that is beyond your control? Katagiri questions. In "Illness and Death", Kleinman notes how illness changes our perspective to life; it stops us in our tracks and makes us connected to the world in a different way. Katagiri, the Buddhist, notes that when a moment appears there's only one thing that controls you…. (he mentions a few), but then he states, "the ability to face impermanence and deal calmly with conditions of every moment" and to me that is Bauby. Bauby understood through illness about the impermanence of life. Everything changes. Nothing stays the same and because of this, I make this moment precious. I make the best of this moment.

Aware of the impermanence of life, you become like Bauby, wise, insightful, compassionate, mindful and loving. Suddenly he is in his cocoon, but he is also liberated and made free. Bauby accepts every moment as an opportunity presented to him to practice reality as it is and not as he wants it to be. He makes every moment an opportunity of remembrance, but also of acceptance. He remembers events of his past as they relate to the present, he remembers foods that he loved in order to enjoy the IV that is feeding him, he recalls moments of love and at times, yes he suffers for his present condition, but he transcends suffering through a commitment to living a valuable life no matter what the circumstances. There is this profound gratitude that changed me in the process of reading the text. After reading a vignette, I would share it with my family. After awhile they were a bit tired of me, but throughout the days of readings I would cherish every activity as a miracle to be experienced mindfully and at that moment. My ability to move my arms for a hug, to touch my daughter's hair, to kiss my husband's cheeks, to blink, to breath, to swallow, all had a different meaning.

A Dream and Austerlitz

2008-03-04T20:41:00.000-08:00

Last night I had a dream that Professor Charon and Spiegel had given us a one page document on Brunner’s article. The Document was titled, “The Components of the First Encounter as it Relates to the Seven Key Strategies of Conversations”. I thought it was very funny. It was like a map of key points in a conversation, the document had diagrams and flow charts as to what to hear and listen.

Maybe this comes about my trying to find a way to grasp Sebad’s novel, Austerlitz, wanting a map within me to make sense of the key conversations I heard through out the text and my need to fit a theoretical framework to the text in order to understand it. I think we all do this, we try to view something from a particular perspective in order to understand it. This comes with training, the more you read and learn a language from which to view a text, the easier it becomes. From my perspective I try to understand what I read based on my own background, knowledge.

With Austerlitz, I thought of Freud and his text Mourning and Melancholia and the fact that for some reason Austerlitz held a deep sadness for me and longing for the past in the present. It was interesting, however, how memories of the past began to flow for the narrator with the encounter of a stranger and how they began this discourse throughout the book. How remembering can be healing. As for my dream, are their Seven Key Strategies of Conversations? Are their Maps to understand the meaning of narrative?

I guess this dream came about because last year Michael White came out with a new book, Maps of Narrative Therapy. Brunner’s work reminded me of this book and of Narrative Therapy. Narrative Therapy, developed in the 1970’s by Michael White and David Epston, holds that the accounts of our identity are shaped by accounts of our lives found in our stories, and in our narratives. Narrative conversations in therapy help people clarify for themselves, the many direction to a problem, their value, meaning and commitments. These conversations lead to a therapeutic end, the more we reflect and look at our problem saturated stories the more we are able in the therapeutic encounter begin to retell, remember, reshape and re-story these stories, thus heal.

Maps of Narrative Therapy, holds that there are six (not seven) kinds of maps of conversations: externalization conversations, re-authoring conversations, remembering conversations, definitional ceremonies, conversations that highlight unique outcomes, and scaffolding conversations. Each conversation has a therapeutic mean. If I were to analyze Sebald’s work more thoroughly, I would use these Maps to understand the multiple conversations within Austerlitz. Butler: Ethics, Judgment and Violence. In the therapeutic encounter, we are taught about being non-judgmental in our encounters with others. I realize, however, that even when we’ve had good therapeutic training, the mind still makes judgment. We are taught to be compassionate to the self in order to understand these judgments and their history, to manage them somehow and not allow them to interfere with the work at hand which is too be attuned to the other and empathic.

This reminds me of the therapeutic encounter, and how race, gender and sexual orientation fit in. In the end, how socio-political our conversations are and how society itself plays part in the role of suffering and emotional instability. Trauma and its effect on language: In my experience with traumatized individual, the effects of trauma on the brain impacts on cognition, thought, language, the body etc. The traumatic experience overwhelms the senses so that the retelling of the trauma, language itself becomes inadequate in the telling.

In my clinical encounters it is through the body that most people begin to understand their trauma. The body speaks to them and me. It is then through the body that I begin to assist in self-healing. That is why so many body oriented therapies have evolved because the body itself has a language. Unresolved emotions held in the body are reworked through the body. At times, the impact of trauma can affect how the event is processed and how the person makes meaning of their life experience which can affect their view of the world and their interaction with others According to Laub the survivor's who do not tell their story become victims of their distorted memory. According to Laub and many other theorist traumatic events become distorted in silence, contaminate the survivor’s life because the person begins to doubt the reality of the actual events. However, I believe like Nietzsche that “forgetting is necessary, at least for a time.” Decomposing - Is it possible that when the event and the witness decompose the experience becomes them? Then the telling, the narratives and the stories they create are in some ways a method of externalizing experience in order to understand it?

Leonard Lief Library - Reading

2008-02-27T13:43:00.000-08:00

I have been asked to read at the Lehman College Leonard Lief Library. It is very strange to read where I work because my colleagues know me in one way, as a Director, and my students know me in another way, as a therapist to them, the person who counsels them when there is a difficulty, or a joy to share. Now, I am here with a book maybe about a girl like them, and with a story like theirs. I thank the students who read these stories, and then write letters to me thanking me for writing it, and sharing how they too one day will write their stories. I so sincerely appreciate this. I want to thank the library, and the staff who broke the mold, and did something creative at Lehman College, and decided to host me as the first literary reading ever. Thank you!

On Friday, I will be reading Besos de Mariposas, a new story published in two different anthologies : Viajeros del Rocio: 25 Narradores Dominicanos de la Diaspora and Riverine: An Anthology of Hudson Valley Writers. I will be reading at the Dominican Cultural Center.

Poetry and Photography

2007-12-22T06:44:00.000-08:00

January at my job is busy preparing for the spring. In the meantime, I had a reading in Colds Spring. I love that quaint little town. I'm ready for all that is to come. Continue to find peace in contemplative practice that allows the silence for creativity to flow. Find comfort in the laughter of the people that surround me, there is something healing about humor.

Poetography group - I am suppose to take a photo a day, write a haiku and send it in. I used to love Haiku. I have notebooks full of them. Now, the structure, 5, 7, 5 syllables, stops me.

I wanted freedom from structure because my life doesn't allow that kind of forced structured. I carry the camera, and my complicated life - home, work, home, Columbia, Zendo, hot Yoga, Bikram, so soothing. I come out feeling life is good.

Hindrances and Blessings

2007-09-23T20:25:00.000-07:00

It is amazing how we sometimes place hindrances in front of ourselves that prevent us from doing the things we most want to do. Watch yourself. See how you use your time. How you say yes to things you cannot do. How you involve yourself in more activities than your body, mind and soul could allow.

Watch it. See it. Question it.

Now my life has no spaces between all of my other roles (mother, wife, sister, friend, writer, director, etc..) to allow me to function as I want. Fragmented..... I am pieces here and there. Yet, there is a lesson in hindrances.

Columbia University - The focus of my is on contemplative practices in higher education: mindfulness, meditation, writing, art, but particularly the use of writing, storytelling in the healing process.

A Paradox - As I hunger for more contemplation and mindfulness, I find myself busier and busier, leaving only a slight space in time for the kind of contemplation I long for. Now, I am in the Writer as Teacher course learning about the group process and being both a teacher and a writer. My focus - to enhance my "healing and writing" group or a "healing and being" group at the college. Last year, piloted this group using the Writing and Being: Embracing Your Life Through Creative Journaling book by G. Lynn.

I also used the One Year of Healing and Writing website by Physician/Writer Diane Morrow. When we ended, I started a private blog, "Healing and Writing" with the students. Writing, as we all know, promotes health, health promotes wellness and wellness allows students to stay in college. I'll use all of the creative arts to help students support their own healing process by being mindful, and creative.

The winner

2007-07-22T21:08:00.001-07:00

I am a winner. No, I didn't win the Sapphire Blue 777, but I did win a grant for $77,700.00, where I work. I recently realized it when I went on the web to find out something about the grant and suddenly I realized that I had won that exact amount, all 777's isn't that amazing.

My Daughter's Eyes and Other Stories

2007-07-10T19:22:00.000-07:00

My book, My Daughter's Eyes and Other Stories came out in July. It is a collection of fourteen interrelated stories about young women in the Bronx. The book started with one story written in 1995 which became another story and another until by 2001, I had 14 stories.

I then had the courage to submit all of the stories to the Curbstone Marmol Prize for First Latina Fiction in 2002 (made finalist), 2003 (made finalist), 2004 (made finalist), in December 2005, after editing and revising, editing and revising, I got a call from Sandy Taylor in April 2006 that I had finally won.

Persistence paid.

So, it's 2005, then it's 2006 and finally it is July 2007 and the book arrives. The day it arrived it was as if a stork had delivered a baby. I was struck by it's reality, but it takes such a long time. Writing is a solitary activity. An activity with little encouragement from others. It takes time, determination, persistence and faith. When family and friends, and colleagues at work see the book, they say "How did you do this in between work and all that you do," as if the book was spun out of magic one day in between lunches and conferences.

I work full time.

I use my time wisely. I love my family and friends deeply and this love gives me the strength to allow things to grow within me. And, then I am a therapist, and I am the Director of the Counseling Center at Lehman College. To top it all off this year I also accepted a very prestigious fellowship at Columbia University, The Charles Revson Fellowship. This takes me away from all that I love to do, work, writing, family and friends. I am not sure if this is a blessing or a hindrance.

I'll know in the end - May 2008.

What is to come

2007-07-08T20:51:00.000-07:00

Blue - Picasso had a blue period. He was nineteen years old and his blue period ended when he was 24 years old. It was a sentimental and sad period when he had lost a friend to suicide. You can say so much about this picture. You can say a lot about blue, but blue doesn't have to be sad. Blue can be many other things - to come.

Sapphire Blue

2007-07-07T16:01:00.000-07:00

Clear blue skies today, weather warm, but not extremely humid. It is the seventh day of the seventh month in the year 2007. The Lucky 777, they say.

Weddings all over the place today. Couples hoping that the 7/7/07, brings them luck, love and long life.

The New York Lottery blocked the number 777 because of the unbelievable demand in lottery ticket sales.

There is a lottery ticket the “Sapphire blue 7’s” which will yield $777,000.00 to the lucky winner. There are 12 floating sapphire’s to scratch off for the lucky chance with the word “prize” next to it and on the bottom it says "12 chances to win". I bought it for luck, but don’t dare to scratch it, it sits here in front of it, the 7 large and white behind blue Sapphire.

When I dare to scratch the blue Sapphire, I’ll discover my blue prize and I’ll share it all in blue words.