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Member: Lorena Lucille Location: Chicago, IL Gender: Female Interests: Meditating and Mothering
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| I am a bowl of sugar. My thoughts are black flies. |
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"It's not the load that breaks you down, it's the way you carry it."
-Lena Horn (June 30, 1917-Sept 5, 2010),
as quoted to me by Jim McCarty
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"Rabbit's clever," said Pooh thoughtfully.
"Yes," said Piglet, "Rabbit's clever."
"And he has Brain."
"Yes," said Piglet, "Rabbit has Brain."
There was a long silence.
"I suppose," said Pooh, "that that's why he never understnds anything."
-The House at Pooh Corner, by A. A. Milne
Chapter VIII: In Which Piglet Does a Very Grand Thing
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A lady asked me for money today. I looked her in the face and said, “I don’t give money to people.” She said, “Why do people always think I’m bad because I don’t have money? If you have money, you should give it!” and walked away.
My first thought was, I don’t think you’re bad, nor did I say that. My second thought was, you don’t know the service I do perform. My third thought was, she’s not talking to me. She’s talking to her own ego. And I walked away.
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I have long been trying to understand the idea of Giving Thanks. To whom do we give this thanks? If I acknowledge separation, I can give thanks from me to The Creator, but if I recognize Unity, who is giving thanks and who is receiving thanks?
Gratitude occurs when one appreciates what one has, where one is, what one is doing, and one's state of existence. When one pines for a different thing to occur in the future or is nostalgic for some past, one is not in a state of gratitude. Gratitude occurs only within the moment where one is. All else is forgiven.
It is also only within this infinitely eternal, dimensionless point in time that Unity exists. Therefore, the states of gratitude and Unity are inseprable. And instead of giving and receiving thanks, there is only having thanks.
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Fear is the tool of the ego, used to convince us it exists.
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My faith directs my will, while my will is a testament to my faith.
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I lost my backpack at a diner, Tuesday, with my wallet in the pocket. I was heartbroken because "I am a servant of the Light." "Why would this bad thing have happened to me?" But, if I believe myself to be a servant of the Light, I have to trust the Light. If I had needed that backpack, as a servant of the Light, I would still have it. If, as an instrument of the Light, I needed to have left that backpack behind so that another self could have an experience that the Light desired him or her to have, then I must trust in myself as an instrument. If God himself had descended from the heavens and asked me to leave my backpack behind, I have to believe I would have. I am a servant of the Light and I believe it.
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I am the leaves that serve the tree, my God. I am the branches that serve the tree, my God. I am the trunk that serves the tree, my God. I am the roots that serve the tree, my God. I am the bark that serves the tree, my God.
I am the leaves that thank the roots, That thank the trunk, That thank the branches, That thank the bark, That thank the tree, my God, for its service.
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Realists less so predict their reality than they do create it.
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Just because it's not all in your head, does not mean it is real.
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