Disco is My Cosmos

(This is from a recent journal entry. I was, in a way, talking to myself. I'm not really sure where the words came from, but reading it again, I find it comforting.) Practice accepting "what is". This practice is not complacency. Your ego will try to persuade you that it is, in order to perpetuate the ego's existence. If we remain in the place of "what is", we are in tune with the natural flow of life. We don't need to resist, or fear, or question. Change will happen. Every step of the journey is required, whether we can see immediately why or not. By accepting "what is", we say that we are putting our trust in the universe. We, as tiny beings with big egos, are part of a very large, well-oiled machine that is the universe. There's no need to feel scared or trapped. Feeling trapped is our own misconception. Rather than feel trapped, we should feel whole. We cannot remove ourselves from what surrounds us. We can merely participate...

Consume - verb 1. to take in as food; eat or drink up. 2. a. to expend, use up b. to purchase for ownership 3. to waste, squander 4. to destroy totally; ravage 5. to absorb, engross from latin meaning to devour, to take up We consume all day: we eat and drink we get in a gas powered vehicle we spend our money we watch tv This takes up our time, our energy, our money- how do we feel at the end of the day? A lot of the time, I can feel empty from this consuming. I feel- consumed. While we are spending so much time consuming (using up), when exactly are we "filling up"? The idea of consuming is that we are filling our minds with information - but where is the space for anything else, like our own thoughts, ideas, and creative ventures? Or perhaps no thoughts at all? I've been trying to take at least 30 minutes a day to myself - no talking, no tv, no distractions - just my thoughts, or lack thereof. I do this through baths, walks, stretching, and I am astonished at the am...

One of my favorite parts of any given day is when I can work with numbers. For example, I save all my receipts for the month, categorize them, and add up the categories, then input them into a spreadsheet, which I analyze. One of my all time favorite programs is quickbooks. Entering payments and paying bills have a calming effect on me. I realize not everyone has my sentiments when it comes to numbers. But let me tell you why: numbers are straight forward. For example, in Algebra class, we are taught how to "simplify equations." There's only one right way to do this: and the equation, if simplified correctly, will always be the same answer. There is a certainty here that is reassuring. People are not like numbers. They are complex, and the events surrounding us are constantly changing. Our moods, opinions and circumstances are always changing. There is no constant here. There is no simplified equation. I was watching Morgan Freeman's "Through the Wormhol...

I've always considered myself as one who keeps up with technology. Maybe not running side by side with it, but quietly jogging a few feet behind, enjoying the latest and greatest. Although not the first to get a smart phone, I feel like I got one "just in time" - it certainly has been a huge asset to my massage business. I know how to use face book, twitter, email, google maps, i pods, blue tooth, and, most obviously, blog spot. All this I have been diligently keeping up with, albeit a few steps behind. But it's enough to "survive" in the modern world. One confession is my computer. A first generation IMac, it was a futuristic machine "all the way back" in 2003. About six months ago, I took it to the Mac store with a technical issue, and apparently it is categorized as "vintage." That is, any parts it needed had to be ordered on the internet third party and installed by someone smart enough to figure it out (in my case, my savvy husba...

Watching a Globe Trekker episode this morning, the presenter was traveling the Yangtze River and explaining the impact of the Three Gorges Dam. At the time of the filming a few years ago, the dam had not yet been completed, and had not flooded the surrounding areas. After its completion, whole cities and villages were completely flooded by the dam, resulting in the relocation of millions of people. They had no choice: they had to leave. The dam has many pros and cons. Pros include less greenhouse gas emissions due to hydroelectric power and more shipping routes, reducing the need for polluting ground vehicles. However, species have been killed and archeological sites are underwater. And, of course, many people had to change their entire lives. The presenter traveled to a remote village due to be flooded, where she asked a local resident (via the help of the resident's English-speaking daughter), how the local felt about being re-located. She simply replied "I have to g...

Silly Hominids We are, we are Walking to the grocery store On thin ankles, feet and toes Curious skeleton shapes Silly Hominids We are, we are Sleeping, breathing, eating Getting angry In parking lots Silly Hominids So many there are Billions and billions Just like stars We are, we are Sleeping pretty Making plans Telling lies Silly hominids We are, we are All over the place All over our minds Families breathing I am a silly hominid Just one So why should I worry? There's no answer to find.

Google dictionary: res·pite Noun /ˈrespət/ /riˈspīt/ listen A short period of rest or relief from something difficult or unpleasant A short delay permitted before an unpleasant obligation is met After two physically and emotionally grueling days of chair massage (let me preface this by saying I enjoy it, but twelve plus hours straight of deep tissue massage, coupled with crowds of thousands, is enough to drain anyone of energy, no matter how much they like it), I woke up this morning and realized I had no choice but to take a bath. Driving home last night in heavy traffic, I could feel all the noise, conversations, and energy of work. The feeling grew heavily on my chest, to the point of almost suffocation. I've had these feelings before: they have sometimes grown into panic attacks. But this particular evening, I recognized the anxiety for what it was, allowed myself to say, "ok, Emily, you are stressed," and, without trying to "get rid of" th...

Sometimes I feel like my choices in life are like leaves falling from a tree in autumn. First of all, there's so many leaves. And they are all different colors and shapes. Some have multiple colors just on one leaf. Some appeal to me more than others. Often, I'll stand under this tree, grabbing at the falling leaves. At this point, I haven't quite considered which leaves I actually want, and they are falling so quickly and the wind is moving them in so many directions that I can't even see what color or shape they are. I try with both hands to grab the leaves, but as I grab with one hand, I miss another falling leaf with the other hand. Say I catch a couple, and my hands are full. That makes it even harder for me to catch any other leaves, ones that may be a better fit for my life. What if I stop this "grabbing" scenario? What if I just wait for these leaves to land on the ground? Once they are free of the wind and I can really see their shape, I ca...

This is something I wrote in college and just came across while going through papers in my closet at my parent's house. There was some old macaroni in the fridge. It had been in there for a while. It was alright when I first tasted it But I soon tired of it So I put it in a tupperware carton And put it in the fridge Thinking I may eat it another time But the time never came I never cared to eat it But after a while, I just forgot About it. But it was still in the fridge Festering. Brooding. Wondering why it was not consumed. I just didn't want it. So finally, I took it out. Threw it away Who knows what it thought When it fell in the trash But who cares Now it's in a landfill.

I bought my favorite magazine last week I set it on the coffee table to read A week passed and I'd had the time But I didn't pick it up So today I took it with me To read amongst my errands I placed a stainless steel Bottle of water In a bag Along with the magazine A few miles later I parked the car and took my bag It was full of water Like a tiny lake in the canvas My magazine was soaked So here I am at home Taking a blow dryer to the pages One at a time Hoping to salvage my beloved magazine Which I wait to come out At the bookstore every month I patiently wait while The pages turn from Translucent to opaque As the paper dries Why am I going to all this trouble? Because I meant to read that magazine I just didn't make the time And now I'm trying to turn its Lifeless, limp pages into The same magazine again Will the pages stick together? I don't know. In Memory of Robert "Bob" Higgins

I was driving on the FL interstate I4 the other day, as I so often do, and I was struck by the monotony of sights - large corporate buildings and/or factories, one story and with no redeeming architectural qualities; mobile homes backed up almost to the highway, always with numerous broken down cars and sheds surrounding an elongated tin can of a home; rest stops, always with a McDonald's, the same five gas stations, and a Cracker Barrel. The best attraction along this road is where the countryside is allowed to open up, and cows lazily graze amongst the Florida scrub land. This a welcome retreat from the otherwise uninspiring views. To anyone who comes to visit Florida, particularly tourists who come just for Disney World and never venture anywhere else, this must seem like such a fabricated place to live. But I know otherwise. Because I've lived in Florida for so long, I've seen the old Florida - the small towns along the coast with quaint main streets and little harb...