Plethora of Everything

The deaths, damage and havoc left in Harvey's path are caused in part by the hand of man. Sand dunes, trees and natural occurring dams all help absorb storm water run off and prevent catastrophic natural events. Poor city planning doesn't allow for Mother Nature to properly do her job. For years an increase in flooding, earthquakes, wildfires, super storms and drought has been predicted by scientists and geologists. Therefore no one should be surprised by these catastrophic, sad occurrences. "The water has nowhere to go. There's too much concrete there," said a Texas-resident friend of mine today via a phone conversation. Photo of Houston flooding

I am part of the grand plan, the design of life. As the flower has its place to grow, so do I. We are here to live, learn, love and grow. Life is a journey. None of us are perfect but through openness to the eternal grace of the Universe/God we can grow closer to perfection and perfect bliss with each passing moment. Joy is yours. Joy is mine. We all are worthy of joy. The more joy we feel, the more we can share, hence making the world a better place. Love lives within me. I'm doing the best I can and every day I grow, learn and do better, easily, at a pace that's comfortable for me.

    How is it that a woman gets more respect and adoration from her partner when she's merely courted by him than when she's his wife, which entails: caring for his child 70+ hours a week, preparing his meals nightly, washing his dirty laundry, cleaning his house and listening to him snore? Free jpeg via google.com     One would think a woman would earn at least 5 times the respect and adoration she experienced as a man's 'girlfriend' once she's his wife, and the mother of his child.     Yet all too often it seems to reverse- respect and adoration dwindle as the woman's role becomes more and more demanding. Footnote: As is often the case in relationships, 24 hours can make a huge difference! Thankfully my spouse and I are getting along much better today than yesterday (which is when I wrote this post).

    Once there was a young woman that went to a psychic, hoping to communicate with her recently departed grandmother.     She sat down a couple of feet in front of the psychic, no table was between them.     As the psychic held a large crystal rock in her hands, she closed her eyes, and asked for guidance from the spirits to assist with the reading.     "I'm getting a very clear vision of you, recently... maybe 45 minutes ago... sitting on the toilet, taking a shit," said the psychic, her eyes still closed, holding the crystal.     Now the young woman knew she was very good at cleaning her ass, and even used baby wipes post-regular-wiping to assure her behind was clean.     And the young woman religiously washed her hands post potty-time to the tune of 'happy birthday' in her mind to assure she was washing a sufficient amount of time.     So, she knew the psychic's vision was real. The psychic had no way of knowing, other than an authentic vision,