We Are All One In Spirit. May We All Stay On The Red Path
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littl;e valley(vicki)
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© 2009 Created by Edmond Lonewolf (Uhisati Wahya) on Ning. Create Your Own Social Network
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" THE TWO CHOICES WE FACE "
Each of us has two distinct choices to make about what we will do with our lives. The first choice we can make is
to be less than we have the capacity to be. To earn less. To have less. To read less and think less. To try less and
discipline ourselves less. These are the choices that lead to an empty life. These are the choices that, once made,
lead to a life of constant apprehension instead of a life of wondrous anticipation.
And the second choice? To do it all! To become all that we can possibly be. To read every book that we possibly can.
To earn as much as we possibly can. To give and share as much as we possibly can. To strive and produce and
accomplish as much as we possibly can. All of us have the choice.
To do or not to do. To be or not to be. To be all or to be less or to be nothing at all.
Like the tree, it would be a worthy challenge for us all to stretch upward and outward to the full measure of our capabilities.
Why not do all that we can, every moment that we can, the best that we can, for as long as we can?
Our ultimate life objective should be to create as much as our talent and ability and desire will permit. To settle for doing
less than we could do is to fail in this worthiest of undertakings.
Results are the best measurement of human progress. Not conversation. Not explanation. Not justification. Results!
And if our results are less than our potential suggests that they should be, then we must strive to become more today than
we were the day before. The greatest rewards are always reserved for those who bring great value to themselves and the
world around them as a result of whom and what they have become.
" A TRUCKERS LAST DISPATCH "
I write this poem,
For truckers alone.
As they hear there loved ones,
On the other end of the phone.
They carry there goods,
To a preset goal.
Don't care what they carry,
Only know they must roll.
White line fever,
I hear it's been called.
When some poor, tired driver,
To sleep has been lulled.
Pushing to fast and hard,
Whachting and following the line
Hoping that when he gets home,
That all will be fine.
But now it has him,
In it's horrible grip.
Could this be the end,
Or even his last trip.
His wheels hit the gravel,
He jerks awake.
Tries to regain control.
His foot on the brakes.
Then he thinks to himself,
About his family waiting at home.
And wonders what drove him,
To endless roam.
He looks to the heaveans,
Please don't let me die.
A truckers last dispatch,
To his dispatcher in the sky.
Written By
Edmond Lonewolf
Copyright © Lonewolf Inc2009 All rights reserved.
Bless your heart! That baby kitty is the sweetest thing I've ever seen!
I had two kitties like that in other years. Have 3 now, a Bombay, A gorgeous blue-eyed Siamese, and an unbelievably pretty Tortoise-Shell. They are really Lovekitties! Have a wonderful weekend!
HAVE A BLESSED DAY !
" OCTOBER'S CALL '
This time of year, my plans are set,
My destination clear.
To the country I'll be traveling,
For the chill of winter's near.
I'll roam the meadows far and wide,
Memorizing nature's view.
Gaze in wonder at stand of tree's,
There leaves a tarnished hue.
Watching autumn colors bid farewell,
To the day's of summer past.
I must heed October's call and go,
And glimpse the changes while they last.
I'll sense my soul as it grows humble,
Now, more than any time of the year.
As each rainbows painted splendor,
Fills my eye's with grateful tears.
As the land in silent protest,
Tries with color to prolong.
The days of change and harvest,
For the winter will be long.
Yea autumn it does beckon me,
With it's bright October call.
So I must travel to the countryside,
Before the maple leaves all fall.
Written by Edmond Lonewolf
Copyright © 2009 Lonewolf Inc
" NO ONE TO PHONE "
One afternoon after the death of her grandfather, Carol lay huddled on
her bed, sobbing forlornly. Her mother sat beside her and asked,
"What's the matter, honey?"
"I miss my grandpa, and I miss talking to him about my problems," the
girl said.
"I know, dear," sympathized her mother. "I miss him too. But can't you
talk to me?" Carol shook her head vehemently.
"Why not?" her mother persisted.
"Because you're what we talked about," sobbed Carol.
Children may not always confide in their parents. And adults may
choose not to confide in many of their friends and family. But it is
important to have someone with whom we can be emotionally intimate.
Tragically, it has been estimated that the majority of men, and many
women, have nobody they could phone at 2:00 in the morning if their
lives fall apart. They believe there is nobody who really wants to
hear from them in a crisis. Too many of us are utterly without close
and intimate friends.
The philosopher Goethe once observed, "The world is so empty if one
thinks only of mountains, rivers and cities; but to know someone here
and there who thinks and feels with us, and who, though distant, is
close to us in spirit, this makes the earth an inhabited garden."
Who can you be vulnerable with? Is the earth, for you, more like a
lonely desert or an inhabited garden? The difference may simply be in
whom you feel free to call at your most wounded moments. Do you have
such a person? And are you such a person for someone else?
As it has been said, "A friend is someone who knows the song in your
heart and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words."
If we are to find the kind of friend who knows the song in our hearts,
we must also BE that kind of friend. And since good friends take time
to grow, today is a good day to work on those friendships.
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