Writings and Audio
Written and spoken language are ways in which we humans express ourselves and communicate our thoughts, feelings and passions to others. Letters and their sounds are like building blocks, from which words are constructed. Words themselves are like capsules—what can come through them depends on what's been put in them, what they’re connected to. For instance, the same words of greeting from someone you’re meeting for the first time can feel very different than those coming from an old friend.
Here are some writings and audio recordings for you to spend time with if you wish.
Can you feel what's coming through? If so, what language might you use to express this feeling?
Keep in mind that your words will likely be different, because each one of us is different (intentionally so). There are countless ways to give expression to a specific thought or feeling.
Expressing oureslves is one of the ways in which we humans, as unique feelers and responders, can add richness to life as we help it expand and grow.
Coded
We become the signal of the life we make coded down to the quality of our choices our reasoning and our motivation purpose alignment. The choice is ours to give or take But always, in the end, we become what we've asked for our entire lives. - Emy Papasideris
We Are Hope
We often say whether we are hopeful or not, but this is not accurate. Like a stone, we are hope. We radiate hope from the living of life; we have appetites, we yearn, we learn, we grow into a tribe. There, we can sing the song of ourselves, that vibration so unique in the universe. We look to the sky for inspiration, but we can be the sky, the dusk, the dream. We are more powerful than we perceive, more potentialed than we realize. Hope is not a tender flower to be watered. Hope is verve shaking the past into freedom, trailblazing the future without dragging our boulders along. The present might be a gift, but the future is where we are heading. Hope is not a dewdrop on a blade of grass. Hope is the bravery to live our differences. The future is desperate, desperate for our portrayals and permutations in order to expand into limitlessness. - Charles Fischer
A Gift of Pause
Light snow is falling in various directions, as if the snow globe was turned upside down and now all the glitter bits are swirling and landing where they will. It’s quiet inside my son’s apartment. The sounds of the city fade as life slows down and the humans take a pause and wait for the snow to melt. I wonder sometimes what people do in the pauses of life, when stillness is delivered unexpectedly, by chance, by storm, or by choice. In nature, when human goings-on go quiet, the wildlife takes notice and appears more freely, moves about with less caution. Oftentimes at home when I bring myself to the woods, I listen for birds, for critters, for movement in and around and above the place I have entered – home to other things. When I take a long enough pause, I begin to see and hear things not noticed while in active movement. A hawk flies overhead, a chipmunk sends warning chirps, the squirrel rustles the leaves in complete camouflage. The gentle hum of the forest and the growing quiet in my own mind, causes the inner dialogue to pause and the awareness and wonder of what’s going on in the woods to be more present. During this wintry visit with my son, we took his puppy on an outing to a park nearby. There were six or seven street blocks to walk before reaching the entrance to the park. What was interesting about this part of the journey and this particular puppy, is that every block, she would stop and sit down on the sidewalk, without budging, no matter our encouragement or complaint about the cold. Stop, sit, pause, watch, go. Block after block after block. And I wondered, why did she do that? What was she watching for? So, to find out for myself, I decided to do the same, except for the sidewalk sitting. Stop, pause, watch and go. What became apparent during this copycatting was all the things I noticed with great detail and wonder, that I may have completely missed, had I not stopped to pause and watch, rather than just go, go, go. A small flock of 40 to 50 sparrows was chirping quite loudly and covering a wintery bush like ornaments on a Christmas tree, creating warmth as they clustered together. No one on the street seemed to notice at all as we walked by. The little lines of snow on the edges of the bricks that stuck out farther than the other bricks on the buildings we passed, created little ledges for the snowflakes to rest and gather and add depth and shadow to the building’s facade. Quite beautiful. The joyful faces of a young mother and father reflected the wonder of discovery in their newly walking child as she explored the snow that fell from somewhere way beyond her comprehension. And I was reminded of my own young mother moment when my son stood in the falling snow for the first time, trying to catch the flakes with his tongue. In the busyness of life on the planet and life in the 21st century, we oftentimes forget to stop and take a pause, a moment to take notice, to look up, to breathe, to remember the why of what it is we are doing. Perhaps the puppy has a built-in curiosity about the world around her, strong enough to cause her to stop right there on the sidewalk, whether the walkers want to stop or not. And perhaps the child has a natural inclination towards exploration, discovery and inquiry as she wonders what the snow will do when the wind catches it, or what it might feel like when her mittens come loose, or even where it comes from. Life grants us many opportunities to take a pause and ask ourselves, “What am I doing right now and why am I doing it?”. It’s up to us to take the journey to find out. - Maria Pierleoni
Here is a Story about Some Special Bees...
On a special blue planet somewhere in the vast universe we inhabit there live a tribe of bees. They carry on their Bee business from age to age, and over the millennia have become very wise bees indeed. Always buzzing and humming about this and that. Mustering to whatever the call is that day. Attending to the need of each hour. They live every moment in this one long moment of well-being as only bees can live. However they are always looking to their future death with great joy for they know that being here as a bee is only a passing phase in the great interim of all cosmic bees. For they learned that you cannot look to the future unless you first acknowledge your own mortality in every moment. And the future was in the intention of the Great Mother that they continue. Their great love was their uniqueness and their sameness, both together; for each bee had its own distinctive character. And so they ever worked for the good of themselves and the hive for the two were inextricably linked… Now on this planet special flowers grow. No one knows when and where they will appear, and they are always different. Which makes the bees ever more eager in their tasks… Will they come across one of these special flowers today? But these magic flowers also want to be found, especially by the bees, because they know that the bees when they come will harvest the pollen. They will not eat it all or parasite upon them and will take the nectar to their hives to turn into the most beautiful golden honey that has ever been made anywhere in the galaxy. An ever-changing brew that never varies in quality and has a subtle and wonderful ever-changing kaleidoscope of flavours; flavours that never repeat… These flowers send out not only an exquisite aroma but also an electrical signal… Some of the more experienced bees sense this in a semi-conscious way and immediately head out and search... They follow the signal in weaving patterns, losing then rediscovering it, and then, when confirmed by the increasing of the aroma and strengthening signal make straight to the source… On arrival they welcome each other, flower and bee, brushing up against each other in a beeflower joy that only can be known if you were either a bee or a flower… Then carefully they take the nectar, eat a little to give them strength and then return laden to the hive… When they arrive they are greeted as heroes, and they do a dance of pure joy. Which helps the other, not so elder bees find their way to where these magic flowers are, not wishing to keep the secret for themselves. For they have learned that the way forward is to give it away... But they have to be quick as these special flowers only appear for a day. And later all are busy making honey and attending to their beloved queen… For they know their continuance rests with her having the very best of attendance… But that is another story… And so here closes one small chapter in the life of these wonderful creatures… - Tagir
Light Our Way
The Universe lights our way With structure, form, and platform To create a new self Same-same in intention With God and Creation The light of the spirit Urges the human on Many attempts, many tries Until accepted… As a new life in Creation -Peter Guerzenich-Small
Well-Being
How is a person meant to be joyous, buoyant and bubbly? If weighted down by worry & doubt it takes away from what life is about Maintaining a state of happy well-being attracts connection with essences unseen Coming together in a merry dance within a grace & grant chance to partner, enrich and be enhanced A spring in your step with a light heart will carry the sentiment & vital spark to then be known and clearly marked Under the watchful eyes of God piercing through the deadening fog - Rosie
Fall Apart, But Gently
I am the goat on a mountainside gripping a jagged centimeter, the scarecrow eyeing the velocity of a dark twister. I am the artist holding onto a broken pocket watch, the skipper chasing discoveries with a map of yesterdays. I am holding a cracked teacup trying to catch serenity— but I understand even the universe has passing seasons. At least we live on a warm planet consoled by water; if we can’t feel the hope in a storm, we’ll never like the rain. There is courage in every egg, a forest in every acorn— in tumultuous times we can still be grateful the sun rises. The secret now is to fall apart, but gently, knowing we won’t be the same tomorrow as we were today. -Charles Fischer
A Multimedia Collaboration
The Flute Player
(A Musical Vignette)
A patron of the arts sits upon a warm cushioned chair within a concert hall of acoustical refinement. Outside, in the cold, a down-and-out man in coarse and dirty clothing settles in upon the hard pavement. An orchestra of many tune up; a concordance of rich harmonious notes bring alive a deeply stirring composition. The man outside pulls a flute out of a soiled pocket of his threadbare jacket and positioning the instrument to his lips plays a haunting singular tune. Music knows no boundaries ... It is simply the way of things. - Rosie
