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REFLECTIONS OF A MINDFUL HEART AND SOUL

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REFLECTIONS OF A MINDFUL HEART  AND SOUL

Monthly Archives: August 2019

” What Matters To The Old.”

31 Saturday Aug 2019

Posted by Yu/stan/kema in Article., Poetry, Psychology, spirituality, Uncategorized

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Article by Yu/stan/kema., Old people, Poem- Growing Old., what matters, Written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

In my previous post, I shared with my readers the poem: “Growing Old,” written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox. As I read it, I was reminded that we move through different developmental stages while walking down the road of life. Our goals and what we choose to focus our energies upon change from one developmental stage to another if we are growing as mature human beings. Our thoughts, feelings, and fears change as well.

As I grew older, I became aware that friendships and good relationships with others increased in importance, and a sense of family and belonging was necessary for survival. It mattered more, in the long run, than being rich, having adventures, being successful in what I attempted, or having a lot of status. These things are often lost along the way. As we age, loving, being loved, and being protected matter. We cherish the memories we form from such experiences, the human touch from those that care for us, and the resources, information, and feelings of belonging we get from being connected with others.

I am in my seventies and have encountered many losses along the way. My income has decreased, my status in society has dropped, my health has deteriorated, and I can no longer do the job I loved because of health problems. I have struggled to make sense of a Country I love becoming a place I no longer recognize or respect. I have lost faith and trust in Her. My former ideals have taken a beating. Yet, I still fight for what She once stood for.

Even though life has brought losses, it also has brought blessings and wonderful connections. I have friends, contacts with family, and supportive people in my life. I have shelter, water, and food to eat. My mind still works, and I have people who encourage me to grow emotionally and spiritually. They have taught me valuable skills, and I am in the process of changing.

Growing older, I am less preoccupied with dying and more focused on living in the here and now. I appreciate others more and say “I love you” to those who matter, because I may not get another chance later. I am more attuned to what is just, what is true, and what is morally good in life rather than following the crowd. My need for silence and solitude grows with every year that passes, and i have less desire to interact with technology and the media which is time consuming. Being comfortable is more important than being stylish. Talking about things of value is desired rather than superficial conversations. I think more about God and spirituality than clothes and the shoes I should wear.

My environment and the beauty of nature is essential for my survival. I will fight to protect them. All human beings are necessary for survival. We are connected to one another as human beings and spiritual entities. We all suffer losses, feel joy, share sadness, dream dreams, and have the need to be accepted by others, to feel we belong. We share the earth and resources so we can survive. Being compassionate towards other human beings does matter.

Yu/stan/kema

 

“Growing Old,” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

30 Friday Aug 2019

Posted by Yu/stan/kema in Poetry, Psychology, quote, Uncategorized

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Important things in life., poem on growing old, Quote by Yu/stan/kema, Written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

              ” I came across this poem and it spoke to me. I hope you like it.”          Yu/stan/keema.

 

GROWING OLD

The days grow shorter, the nights grow longer, 

The headstones thicken along the way;

And life grows sadder, but love grows stronger

For those who walk with us day by day.

 

The tear comes quicker, the laugh comes slower;

The courage is lesser to do and to dare;

And the tide of joy in the heart falls lower

And seldom covers the reefs of care.

 

But all true things in the world seem truer,

And the better things of earth seem best,

And friends are dearer, as friends are fewer,

And love is all as our sun dips west.

 

Then let us clasp hands as we walk together,

And let us speak softly in low, sweet tone,

For no man knows on the morrow whether

We two pass on– or but one alone.

ELLA WHEELER WILCOX

 

 

 

The Love Of A Mother And Child.

09 Friday Aug 2019

Posted by Yu/stan/kema in photo, Poetry, Psychology, spirituality, Stories

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Baby boy, Magic and Mysteries., Mother and child, Nature's gifts bring us close to God., Pinterest photo- Darkfire, Poetry by Yu/stan/kema., the moon, The stars

She sings a song, soft and low, soft and low

To her baby boy as the south wind blows.

He clings to her breast and gives a sigh

As he watches the stars in the night sky.                                 

Found on Pinterest on 6-11-17. Saved from meetup.com. Darkfire. Magic & Mysteries.

” The stars remind us that heaven is near.

God’s light shines through when stars appear.

The moon glows bright to guide your way

And will lead you home at the end of the day.”

” So many gifts are given to you,

She said, to make each day brand new.

Always remember, God loves you so.

He will be with you, wherever you go.”

She rocked him to sleep by the light of the moon,

And her grown son never forgot this tune.

-Yu/stan/kema-

The Loss of God At The Border Crossing.

06 Tuesday Aug 2019

Posted by Yu/stan/kema in photo, Poetry, Psychology, spirituality, Uncategorized

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abuse, Incarceration., Loss of God, Loss of humanity at the Border., Neglect, Pinterest photo, Poetry by Yu/stan/kema., Separation from family.

Hey, little girl with the weary eyes,

You’ve been told so many lies.

Your family fled to keep you safe.

They told you, “Have a little faith.”

 

You crossed the ocean in a little boat.

You prayed to God that it would float.

There was little to drink and little to eat,

But you never gave in to stark defeat.

 

Surely, there had to be somewhere,                       

A Country existed that would care.                            

A place where you could find relief

And heal inside the terrible grief

 

Of losing the only home you had,

Because your world had turned mad.

You crossed a desert in the burning sand,

God would bring you to the promised land.

 

You climbed a hill, saw the barbwire fence,

Breathed in a gas that made you wince.

Your mother stumbled and then feel down.

Someone took you without a sound.

 

You cried for your mother and little brother,

While you were put in the hands of another.

You yelled and screamed as they took you away.

They told you to: “Shut-up,” that fateful day.

 

You coped with hunger and ignored your pain.

You learned to keep warm in the pouring rain.

Neglect was a major part of your life.

The loss of your mom cut like a knife.

 

You learned not to trust the human race.

God was gone without leaving a trace.

” America’s promise was just a lie.

They’ve left an innocent soul to die.”

-Yu/stan/kema-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For the Love Of A Dog.

04 Sunday Aug 2019

Posted by Yu/stan/kema in Uncategorized

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” It has been ten years since my best friend died. Every week, I think of her and know she’s up there waiting for me. Many times, I have heard her bark in the middle of the night. I wake up alert and get up. One time my microwave was spinning around and around at 5a.m. and started smoking and I had to call the fire department. Another time, a burglar was out in my yard in the middle of the night when I heard her bark. I know she was letting me know she was still guarding and protecting me in heaven. She was so special. I am thankful for the time we had. Spend the time you have loving your dog. It matters.”
Yu/stan/kema

REFLECTIONS OF A MINDFUL HEART AND SOUL

Howard. AKC Goldleaf’s Midnight Sun. Tri-color

goldleafcollies.com

Howard-3

Five years ago, I lost the best friend I ever had to old age. When she was young, she could jump so high and so far over my deck, I was sure she could fly. I could shout three words and she would run fast as the wind around trees and bushes like a barrel racer does in a rodeo. She grinned a lot, even in her sleep. We walked together in rain, snow, and sunshine. She would lay beside my chair when I read outdoors, watched over me as I straddled a ladder trimming trees and bushes, and protected me at those times she sensed it was necessary. She was a tri-color collie-black, white, and sable in color. When she sat, she looked like she had on a black tux. Her eyes were dark and her soul shone through when she would…

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