Change and Growth

My life has changed so much within the past year. So, so much. Time seems to propel me through life at an ever increasing rate. I've begun to start thinking about whom I might be, where I might be next. A new chapter has begun. I've already begun to wonder when it might end. I've already begun to wonder where the story goes from here. I've begun to wonder whether or not I believe in happy endings. I think about life and how we are all put here to die and how everything else is simply the space between two points. We all travel across the same lines. I wonder where I am going; I wonder where I will be. I wonder who will be there with me. I wonder if anyone will be there with me. Of all the things I think about, I think about life the most. I've got such contradictory feelings. On the one hand I constantly question the reality of everything. Then my mind wanders to what I've read regarding special relativity. I think how every moment is already in existence. I think about how everything we experience is relative to the speed in which we travel. I wonder how fast we are really going. I wonder if things would be different if we travelled along a straight path versus a centrifugal one. I wonder if we are bound to repeat countless cycles, just as the earth. I question how long we are bound to be here. I question our individual grasps within time, within these relative dimensions. I wonder if this is all a dream. And then, there is the other me...the me that question none of these things. Lately, that's the face that has taken center stage.

This face is more concerned with the path I've chosen, the path I will choose. Concerned with the comfort of this journey, although not worried about it. Satiated with wonderful feelings, dreams, hopes and aspirations. Completely unconcerned with concrete physical realities and yet completely entranced with the possibilities behind spiritual realities. This is the face that has come to equate life with the cycle of a dragonfly. Anthropoda, Insecta, Odonata. A dragonfly begins its life as an egg deposited into a pond. When the egg hatches, a larva is born (also called a nymph or naiad). The nymph can spend over five years living in the pond using internal gills to breathe. In it's aquatic stage, the nymph will undergo a series of molts as it grows and develops.

Those that survive life in the pond during the aquatic stage as nymphs will eventually enter what is called the final larvae stage. The nymph climbs up the stem of a reed or other plant at night - exposure to air causes the nymph to begin breathing. Once it is completely out of the water, the nymph affixes itself firmly by means of its claws. After a pause, the larval casing breaks at the back of the head and, slowly and laboriously, the adult insect emerges. 'Blood' is then pumped strenuously round the body, an action that expands the body and also the wing-buds, transforming them into the beautiful lace-like wings which the insect will soon use to fly away from the water. By the time the larva leaves the water, an adult, albeit a rather uninflated one, exists inside the skin which is about to be shed. After the insect has extracted itself, a period of time, usually a couple of hours or so, elapses during which the body and wings expand and cure sufficiently to withstand flight.

Emergence is not an easy process, and the insect is incredibly vulnerable as it prepares for life in an entirely new medium. Many things can go wrong, and sometimes do. Weather changes can have disastrous results. Winds and rain can cause irreparable damage by bringing things into contact with the developing body or wings. The insects can become dislodged, falling into the water where they can drown or be eaten. Where suitable emergence sites are limited, larvae can walk over one another disrupting development. During emergence, the insect can't fly away, and hence is vulnerable to numerous predators. Emergence requires a lot of energy and some insects die trying. The necessary growth having been achieved during the larval stage, the imago can concentrate on ensuring the continued existence of its species: it is the stage of dispersal and reproduction. Immediately after emerging, young adults instinctively head away from water and fly off into the surrounding countryside. In temperate zones, dragonflies that survive the vulnerable period between commencement of emergence and successful maiden flight, have an average life expectancy of 4-6 weeks. I should note that the varied rainbow and metallic colors on the body of a dragonfly is not a pigment, but rather a part of their living tissues, and it fades away once the insect dies. This is why people don't collect dragonflies like they do butterflies.

This life cycle to me seems so metaphoric. On the more banal scale, one could equate it to children leaving the nest and becoming an adult going into the world and attempting to survive. However, in the spiritual sense, one could say that survival of life in the pond is so much like survival in life. The final stage being that final transformation where everything becomes clear (if one can even make it there). I guess the Buddhist would call this "enlightenment." Those who achieve it, live those last moments of life, capable of seeing the entire picture, life beyond a pond. Just because you have survived one chapter doesn't mean you won't be challenged in the next. Tenacity takes courage and strength, but the rewards can be remarkable, even if they are fleeting (for a dragonfly - this staged is reached in order to create new life, for a Buddhist, it is to also help others to this path). Anyway - nothing is ever the same once you've reached something sacred. A dragonfly is all eyes, seemingly in it's last moments, existing to take everything in, experience it. No longer able to walk with it's legs, it can only fly...

"We all have big changes in our lives that are more or less a second chance." - Harrison Ford.

"It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change." - Charles Darwin

"Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future." - John F. Kennedy

The Secretive Do-Gooder

This is an article from the October 4th issue of The Economist:

For most of his life Chuck Feeney has guarded his privacy obsessively. When he became a philanthropist, his gifts came on condition that his name never appeared on any press release or plaque; all donations would cease if confidentiality was breached. But when he decided to co-operate with Conor O'Clery on this book, many of the people in his life, released from their Trappist vows, let themselves go. The result is gripping.

An Irish-American, born in New Jersey in 1931, Mr Feeney made a fortune by co-founding Duty Free Shoppers (DFS) which first sold tax-exempt goods to American soldiers abroad and then tapped into the rise of mass tourism. When DFS was sold in 1997, it had delivered nearly $8 billion to its four main shareholders, of which Mr Feeney was the joint biggest, with 38.75% .

Tax avoidance is the flip side to Mr Feeney's philanthropic coin. He is addicted to it. “Chuck hates taxes. He believes people can do more with money than governments can,” says a friend. In 1964 a young New York lawyer, Harvey Dale, told Mr Feeney that changes in the tax laws threatened his business, which was running risks that could put the founders in jail. On his advice, Mr Feeney and his co-founder, Robert Miller, transferred ownership to their foreign-born wives, from France and Ecuador, respectively.

In 1974, through a deal with the American government, the firm turned the Pacific island of Saipan into a tax haven. Then, in 1978, Mr Feeney grouped his various investments, including his shares of DFS, in a holding company, General Atlantic Group Limited, in tax-free Bermuda. To escape the American taxman, everything was still registered in his wife's name.

Mr Feeney carefully shunned all outward evidence of wealth. But as soon as DFS became reliably profitable, he started the practice of giving 5% of his pre-tax profits to good causes. In 1982 he created a foundation, the Atlantic Philanthropies, based in Bermuda. Two years later he signed over his fortune to the foundation, except for sums set aside for his wife and children. His net worth fell below $5m. When he broke the news to his children, he gave them each a copy of Andrew Carnegie's essay on wealth, written in 1889.

Mr Feeney has given his alma mater, Cornell University, more than $600m, dwarfing all other donations from a single alumnus to an American university. He has contributed hundreds of millions of dollars towards higher education in Ireland, South Africa and Australia. He has helped with health care in Vietnam. In 2004 he went to Cuba, where he met Fidel Castro, who seemed only too happy to accept his capitalist-tax-avoided dollars. But it was his support for the Irish peace process that caused the most controversy, including accusations (without foundation, it turned out) that he had financed the IRA.

Mr Feeney is committed to giving away all the money in his foundation by a fixed date—thought to be in about ten years—but his investment prowess makes this difficult. Currently, Atlantic Philanthropies is worth $4 billion (up from $3.5 billion in 2001) even though, over its lifetime, it has given away about $4 billion in increasing amounts. The trouble for Mr Feeney is that the foundation's assets are growing as fast as he tries to get rid of them.

The Billionaire Who Wasn't: How Chuck Feeney Secretly Made and Gave Away a Fortune. By Conor O'Clery; Public Affairs; 338 pages; $26.95; Perseus Books; £15.99

Itsy Bitsy Spider

“This life as you live it now and have lived it, you will have to live again and again, times without number, and there will be nothing new in it, but every pain and every joy and every thought and sigh and all the unspeakably small and great in your life must return to you and everything in the same series and sequence - and in the same way this spider and this moonlight among the trees, and this same way this moment and I myself. The eternal hour glass of existence will be turned again and again - and you with it, you dust of dust!” - Friedrich Nietzsche

“The means to gain happiness is to throw out from oneself like a spider in all directions an adhesive web of love, and to catch in it all that comes” - Leo Nikolaevich Tolstoy

Lately I have been seeing spiders - everywhere. When I was a small child, I was actually quite frightened by them. As I have grown older, I have found that many things that made me pause in my youth instigate curiosity, reflection or great excitement (and generally, not the bad kind). I was a pretty rough little girl, quite tomboyish - despite the ruffled dresses and white tights my mother insisted upon cloaking me in, to her disappointment I would often return home with ripped and dirtied stockings, often bloodied at the knees and dresses that didn't fare to much better. Pretty dresses and bare foot soccer weren't a good combination. When we moved East, pretty dresses and tree climbing didn't exactly mesh well either. My poor mom, she wanted a princess, I wanted to run and reach the stars. But, I digress. Back to spiders.

I've been seeing these little creatures everywhere. Climbing on my car window, across my keyboard in my office (of all the strange places), spinning their web from the edge of a table or as I look above into a carport. Maybe I'm just noticing them more, maybe Fall is simply the season for the arachnid, I decided nonetheless to discover what they might symbolize.

Linked to treachery and death in many cultures, they have been seen as a "trickster" in ancient Africa, as "spinners of fate" in ancient goddess cultures and - in ancient Greek myths - the goddess Arachne was turned into a spider by her jealous rival Athena. "Christian" cultures have linked them to an evil force that sucks blood from its victims as well as omens of "good luck" because of the cross on the back of some species. The Chinese welcome the spider, descending on its thread, as a harbinger of pleasures and happiness from heaven.

However, the Spider is an ancient symbol of mystery, power and growth. Just as the Spider weaves a web, so too must we weave our own lives. The Spider symbol meaning here serves as a reminder that our choices construct our lives. When the Spider appears to us, it is a message to be mindful of the choices we are making - and ask ourselves: How are my choices affecting my life? How can my choices improve my life? How are my choices affecting others in my life? Not only do Spiders and their webs draw attention to our life choices, they also give us an overview of how we can manipulate our thinking in order to construct the life we wish to live.

Spiders do this by calling our awareness to the amazing construction of their webs. Fully functional, practical, and ingenious in design - Spider webs serve as homes, food storage, egg incubators - seemingly limitless in their functionality. When we consider this ingenious diversity, we can also consider the web-like construct of our own lives. How are we designing the most effective life? When we see our decisions, choices and actions as far-reaching, effective tools in life - we can see how we weave a web that can either serve us or enslave us. The Spider symbol meaning beckons us to be mindful of our behaviors - be smart about the life we weave for ourselves.

We can derive more Spider symbol meaning when we consider certain subtle characteristics that represent ancient symbols of infinity. The infinity symbol meanings occur when we consider most Spiders have eight eyes and all have eight legs. The number eight is also a symbol of infinity or lemniscate (an eight turned on its side). Also, the vibrational frequency indicates the meaning of number eight involves cycles, passage of time, and evolution.

To the Native Americans, Grandmother Spider is the weaver who brought the gift of fire from the other side of the world...her webs bind all things together and form the foundation of the Earth. Still other stories talk of Spider as the weaver of the threads of life. Spider's gift is the ability to shape the patterns of one's life. If Spider has walked into your awareness, it is a reminder that a person's Earth walk should be like a web, balanced and even and cohesive, made according to the design that Creator has given us. Watch the Weaver and see where your life has gaps and snags, and rebuild the web of your life.

The meaning of Spider in India is associated with Maya. The term Maya comes from the Sanskrit root “Ma” which means no form or limit. The term Maya describes the illusory nature of appearances. The Spider’s association with Maya brings about the understanding that not all things are as they appear to be.

The Spider symbol meaning in Egypt, is akin to Neith, a complex deity usually depicted with arrows as she is associated with hunting. Along with hunting, she is also associated with the creation, specifically the process of recreation in the dawning and dusking of each day. Neith is also a weaver, and is often shown with a shuttle in her hand (a tool used for weaving). It is this activity that gains her association with the Spider.

And of course, no conversation about the meaning of spiders is complete without discussing the Greek myth of Arachne, a mortal (although of noble stature) who was a spectacular weaver. Acclaim for her luscious lively looms spread over hill and dale and ultimately reached the immortal ears of Athena. Arachne claimed she was the best weaver, and thus prompted a challenge from Athena.

And so, they played a round of “dueling looms,” but no one could confirm the victor. However, Arachne was quite smug about the whole process. So much so, that Athena smote her with a mighty blow of conscience and a dose of guilt. Arachne took the dosage hard, and could not live with the intense feelings of guilt and sorrow so she killed herself. Athena felt awful over the whole mess and decided to resurrect Arachne in the form of a spider so that she and all her offspring would forever be the best weavers of the universe.

In the end whether an eight legged friend comes across your path, it's up to you to decide if there is an inadvertent meaning held. Maybe, the spider was simply trying to get from point "A" to point "B" and you simply witnessed it's course - but maybe, there's a bit of serendipity involved, where it served as a reminder for you to reflect on the choices in your life. It would seem as though the spider and its web have served as prophetic symbols of wisdom, labor and prudence, while the spider's web represents human frailty and the temporary nature of our earthly existence and riches.

"Our souls sit close and silently within, And their own webs from their own entrails spin; And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch." - John Dryden: Mariage à la Mode, act ii. sc. 1.

A letter from George Carlin...

...on the night his wife died

This essay is really an urban legend in itself. It was rumoured that it was penned by a student that witnessed the Columbine school shootings. Another legend attributes it to comedian George Carlin (as I have introduced it, on the night his wife died) or Jeff Dickenson, host of an online forum. In reality the essay was written by Dr. Bob Morehead, a pastor at Seattle's Overlake church. It is entitled "The Paradox of our Age." I have bracketed portions that wre not part of the original essay.

[The paradox of our time in history is that] we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways , but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness. We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much , and pray too seldom. We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things. We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice . We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less. These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships . These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill.

It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete... [Remember; spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever. Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side. Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent].

[Remember, to say, 'I love you' to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you. Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again. Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind. AND ALWAYS REMEMBER:Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.]

A Letter to God

"The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed." - Carl Jung

"Develop interest in life as you see it; in people, things, literature, music - the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people. Forget yourself." - Henry Miller

"I never saw an ugly thing in my life: for let the form of an object be what it may - light, shade, and perspective will always make it beautiful." - John Constable

Dear God,

It’s been nearly a year since I last wrote. I’ve begun to write letters, only to toss them aside. But, last night I finished reading a book that had some interesting ideas as to where you have been. The book said that on the seventh day, you rested, and that you haven’t yet woken up. You see God, I haven’t written you in a while, because I’ve been having a couple of issues here and there. I’ve been having a lot of issues finding something to believe in, and just when I start to lose faith in so many things, my life is again filled with so many things to renew my sense of, something. The other day, while I sat on the plane, I wrote this:

“If a memory is quite simply something upon itself, then exactly what is a dream? Lately I find it increasingly difficult to find something to believe in. What I seem to be knowing is that finding truth is often like getting a jagged little pill which isn’t only difficult to swallow, but once inside of you, hardly forgettable. It leaves me with the most bitter and unbearable after taste. The ‘what ifs’ of life have always plagued my mind. For a long time, I believed in those, until I realized the truth that ‘what ifs’ are absolutely pointless if you never have tomorrow. I find myself increasingly caring about ‘now’ in theory, although I never find myself manifesting within the present moment. It’s seldom able to capture me. I am the person forever existing in a day that doesn’t yet exist, somewhere else. Half of me is neither here nor there. Most of me wanders like a vagabond across a desert at night. The ground is baron, but it doesn’t matter, because in the desert I am able to exist in a pristine Milky Way which I cannot even reach, only dream and obsess about. Which is right, to accept the sand beneath my feet or to keep reaching for and following those stars?

Up until recently, I thought that at the very least, I could believe in my dreams. Apparitions that often gave me enough breath to continue running when I felt as though I might choke. Now, the truth dictates that this belief was also seriously flawed. My dreams are only an escape. They are the frame, not the picture. It’s still up to me to create something within it. Dreams are nothing but tools. Worthless unless you plan on doing something with them. A hammer will never become a house, but it can certainly help you build one. Dreams, although beautiful, are just my hammer. This thought, although a solid foundation for some, leaves me feeling somewhat ungrounded in spirit.

And then there is love. When I was a little girl, I had a parakeet. I was maybe 5 or 6 years old. It would chirp and fly around its cage or the house when we would let it out for a few hours. The bird was a good bird, it always returned to its cage. Never pooped where it wasn’t supposed to, never chirped while we slept. It would perch itself on my little finger and let me stroke its back, and would never bite. As wonderful as the small bird was, it would never let me pet the pelt feathers on its breast. These feathers looked the softest and plushest, but every time I tried, the bird would jump away. One day while the bird was out of the cage, it flew onto my finger. This time I made a firm grip around the bird’s body, for the first time, she pecked at my hand, probably because I was squeezing her too tight. Her reaction frightened me so I put her underneath my straw cowboy hat that sat on the floor nearby. Still frightened, I clasped my hands around the edges of the hat so the bird couldn’t get out. Then, I slightly sat on the hat, leaving only 3 or 4 inches between my bottom and the ground. I felt the bird stop struggling. At that moment, I was struck by a different kind of fear. I quickly lifted the hat and the bird lay unmoving. Immediately, I knew that whatever made the bird stop moving, was my fault. I called my dad, panicking…screaming…crying. I was afraid I would get in trouble, so I lied. I told Dad that the bird had crawled into a crevice in the big blanket that was lying nearby. When I lifted the blanket, the bird wasn’t moving. My dad gently explained that the bird didn’t have enough air and died. I had my first lesson in death and bad love at the same time. I’ve begun to realize that the truth in love, to a small degree, lies in the story of that little bird. Love is imperfection, acceptance, recognition of fear, the ability to be gentle and the ability to practice tolerance and understanding. Just because someone doesn’t show you love the way you want them to, doesn’t give you the right to squish them, even if it is an accident, inadvertently you may lose something very special.

Oh then there’s the proverbial ‘believe in yourself.’ I believe in my ability to mold clay, even if it’s already hardened. I believe in the notion that only you can ‘make it yours.’ But the belief that I’m trying to understand is that which gives you hope. That light you find yourself following when you thought you were surrounded by darkness. It’s easy to believe in yourself, but you cannot lead yourself, only others. Life is not about the dog chasing it’s tail. If you are stuck in a cave, what inspires you to get out? That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

So God, I don’t know whether you are asleep or awake. I don’t yet even know who or what you are. Despite the fact that I write these letters, I have yet to decide on whether or not I believe in you. All I know is that I believe in something, and since the term “God” makes sense, I’ll just keep using it. If there’s been some confusion on my part, I’m sure you’ll let me know if you’re really out there, which I sometimes think you are. Today, I stumbled upon this, it really sums my thinking up so neatly, weaving my love of physics and Richard Bach’s “One” into a perfect package topped with a perfect ribbon. If this is a “sign” from you, thank you. If it was simply my own discovery within a chaotic box, I knew that I could find something to grasp. I do believe that covers everything for now, well at least until later.

CREATE, by Norm Taylor

Learn of your freedom to create through doing it. Follow all your "natural" urges with enthusiasm and expectations of success. Let the flowing energy of that urge lead you into new dimensions of self and joy.

Changing patterns of belief is your nature -- forever experimenting with patterns and flavorings of belief. Your mission is to BE -- your adversary, your fear. This conquest is ongoing, and will never be completely won.

But universes of your seeding will blossom wherever you have been, and vast organizations of abundant energy will have mighty directions -- as you grow. This journey of self-discovery is "really" all there is. This is why you were created and why you can create as well.

Let your vigor be felt in your pursuit of that freedom you desire -- for your energy is much like the wind: its form and nature may not be observed except indirectly, in those things it touches and brings movement to.

You ARE pure energy, and light is more your own "kind" than coarser vibrations of the physical world you see; yet the perceptual mold is open-ended for you and your creations.

There are no closed systems of belief -- all patterns are open-ended, and all harmonize the integrity of the whole self you are and all-ways have been. New beginnings are your "stock-in-trade" in a universe in a state of becoming, and a world full of changes every moment.

Ideas become things. Your own ideas DO effect changes in all dimensions of actuality that are constantly going onward in their own directions as well. Your total being is a perfect compliment to the "other" individuals you meet, and offers fulfillments to parts of their values as well.

Fear not your growth and jubilant dancing with your feelings. These dimensions are on THIS lifetime's agenda. Let that be. Trust that part of your source which brings you to each moment; for your meanings would be lost among your own creations, without the complete integrity of YOUR being AND your source.

Have you not journeyed far up to this point? Go with the flow of your existence.

Bioluminescence

And then there are the days when you think back, wanting and waiting for simpler times. I think of that day where I first saw a Lightning bug and the insurmountable amount of joy that was brought into my life at that moment. To be completely entranced and delighted by something so simple. A little, tiny insect which could glow in the dark. Now, it seems that maybe those needs, those wants...haven't wavered quite as much as I once thought. The world is full of Fire Flies. The world in it's infinite being casts a glow if you stop to see it, pause long enough to be mesmerized by it. Bioluminescence abounds in faint and overt ways. Life can be still, so long as you allow yourself to live within the moment and not around it. Life lives and breathes within and throughout us. A primal feeling of polarity streams through my veins of inner consciousness whenever I stop to think about it. Whenever I feel that fundamental need to feel that energy. Whenever I feel the need to know that inevitably we are all one with each other. Life is such an intricate circle of balances. I take every moment of sadness, every moment of pain, every moment of confusion to be a pillar that leads me to each and every moment of joy, every moment of happiness, every moment of clarity. I see things, hear things. Although I am bothered by some of the mundane things, I am fortunate to get through them quickly. I will not waste my time on those who choose to be blind, on those who refuse to move forward, on those who are more concerned with the material than the spiritual. In many ways you are one with all that is good as well as all that is bad and all that falls between the two. Life is a painting which is incomplete. You are the master of the ultimate vision although many will also leave their mark making the end unique to you. Appreciate every little annoyance because it makes you appreciate the simpler things more. Life is not complicated...people choose to make it that way. Life is yours until you give the power over it to someone else. I am so lucky and happy to be me.

"If there were in the world today any large number of people who desired their own happiness more than they desired the unhappiness of others, we could have paradise in a few years." -Bertrand Russell

"Slow down and enjoy life. It's not only the scenery you miss by going too fast - you also miss the sense of where you are going and why." - Eddie Cantor

"To believe in God or in a guiding force because someone tells you to is the height of stupidity. We are given senses to receive our information within. With our own eyes we see, and with our own skin we feel. With our intelligence, it is intended that we understand. But each person must puzzle it out for himself or herself." - Sophy Burnham