Friday, September 26, 2008

Serialization of Sacred Vow: Djalma

photo by by DWinton

Mr. Walters conveys the reality of mystical worlds and our interaction with them very eloquently. He states that there is "one true love in its infinite expression," meaning there is one connection, above all others that can make us feel whole, like our full selves. This book is highly recommended for the reader seeking a love story that knows no limits. As a metaphysical novel, one can expand their views of worlds and civilizations existing with us, and how we may affect those close to us with or without our knowledge.

“Sacred Vow” is highly recommended, and a sequel would be much welcomed. —Catherine Phelps for Reader Views

Installment 11 of 22
Sacred Vow (Dragon's Beard Publishing, ISBN: 978-0-9774271-4-7, paperback, Fiction: Visionary/Metaphysical).


Ian was sitting by the riverbank, about a mile from Liz’s house, atop a massive stone, under an old hemlock, within view of the bridge on the state road. It was seven o’clock in the morning, just when he’d been asked to arrive, which had required that he start down the road for this meeting in the middle of the night.

It was cold on the top of a rock by the river, a little after sunrise in January. Ian looked out over the water. If Liz’s psychic friend is worth all her claims, perhaps he’s brought me here for a frigid dip in the river, to bring me to my senses, Ian thought bemusedly.

“Not at all,” someone responded out loud, seemingly from nowhere.

Ian’s legs jerked and he had to grab the rock to avoid falling into the river. Fortunately, the top of the rock was mostly flat and Ian had been careful not to sit too close to the edge. He had seen no path except the one coming from the bridge. Being surrounded by thick rhododendron, Ian felt justified in watching only the bridge for signs of another person’s arrival.

Ian jumped to his feet and looked down in the direction of the voice. At the base of the stone, on the edge of the river was a muscular young man. His hair was long and pulled back into a French braid. His face had a peculiar combination of both male and female characteristics, strength and softness.

The young man’s voice did not give any indication that he had noticed Ian’s embarrassment. “Good morning, Ian. Thank you for meeting me here. Sorry for the inconvenience. I needed to gather some things along the river this morning.”

This was Djalma, Liz’s psychic? Now Ian was aggravated. He had driven half the night and sat on a freezing rock to meet an eccentric, longhaired, blond Anglo kid? Ian had wanted a legitimate mystic.

Ian’s mind exploded in doubt. Where did this guy get such a name? The exotic choice was probably with the idea that it added some credibility in his chosen vocation. If he truly had any talent for the preternatural, what difference would it make if his name were something ordinary like Joseph?

As an imagined defense, considering that a psychic might be capable of reading minds, Ian forced his thoughts into silently quoting the first thing that came to mind from Hamlet. “Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows—”

Unfortunately, Ian found that his frustration was stronger than his fear of Djalma’s possible talent. His mind went on the offensive again. He distinctly remembered Liz referring to Djalma as “this old fellow.” Didn’t she know that psychics and mystics should be of a more mature age? How else would they be able to project the bearing of wisdom? Here I am in the mountains with an eccentric kid half my age, a junior psychic sorcerer!

Ian went back to focusing on lines from Hamlet to mask his real thoughts.

If Djalma was reading Ian’s mind, the calm of his face showed no evidence of taking the hysterical mental chatter personally.

Finally, Ian slowed his mind down enough to say, “Good morning, Djalma. I didn’t hear you come up.” From wherever you came, he thought. Ian looked about to see from just where that could have been. “Nice morning for a hike.”

“A little cold for my liking, Ian. We’d better get on with our business. It’s going to start raining in an hour.”

Oh, great, Ian thought. Now I am going to get caught in the mountains in a blizzard or an ice storm. No way was it going to be just rain at this temperature.

Forcing himself from his true thoughts, still neurotic about Djalma’s possible talents, Ian returned to Hamlet. What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason! Noble in reason, indeed, he thought ironically.

Amazed at how much of Hamlet he actually remembered, Ian struggled for self-possession. Okay, how would he and Djalma go about the real subject at hand?

Djalma climbed around the side of the rock and started toward the bridge. As he passed by, he touched Ian on the shoulder and spoke with a gentleness that Ian normally associated with someone much older. “I’m sorry I‘ve disturbed you. This wasn’t my idea. Let’s move over there in the sun, where it’s a bit warmer.”

That brief touch, even through a bulky jacket, gave Ian a remarkable sense of reassurance. He no longer felt any hard feelings toward Djalma for having brought him out at such an odd time. In fact, he was suddenly content to be where he was. He replied in all honesty, “We don’t have to have this talk today, if it’s inconvenient for you.” Ian truly felt freed from his own need and full of concern for Djalma.

“Oh, I wasn’t referring to our meeting. I really am glad to meet you. What I meant was that I didn’t ask to be useful in such matters. It’s sometimes as uncomfortable for me to be consulted about these things as it is for the people who come to me.”

Never breaking stride, Djalma looked over his shoulder and smiled. “By the way, you’d have to ask my parents what they had in mind with the name. I’ve considered changing it.”

I knew he could read my mind, thought Ian.

Djalma led them to a warmer spot, out from under the trees, and a little removed from the river, but there wasn’t much more warmth. The sun had barely crested the mountaintops and the clouds were rolling in.

Djalma started the conversation, “How did you come to learn this talent of visitation?”

“I might be learning now, but it began more as something stumbled onto, I think,” Ian said.

“Oh, I doubt it was purely by chance, friend,” Djalma said. “It requires something much more than luck.”

Djalma asked Ian a few more questions. Ian was surprised at how comfortable he became in sharing information with this stranger. Every question Djalma asked unleashed a flood of response from Ian. It was a relief to share his full experiences with someone who fully accepted what he said. Ian felt immensely closer to a solution.

As wrapped up in warm clothing as Ian was, the cold damp weather was beginning to get to him. Djalma was periodically brushing his hands up and down his own sleeves, too.

“Are you up for a little walk?” Djalma asked. “No need to move your car. It will be all right. My house is just through the woods, and I have a fire going there.”

They wandered away from the road, through the trees and rhododendron, on a worn path through the thick evergreen forest. Suddenly, a tiny house appeared. It was the size of a small storage building. Made of rough-sawn lumber, it had a high-pitched tin roof. A covered porch, which was mostly storage for firewood with a narrow path left to the door, extended about eight feet from the front of the building.

Djalma grabbed a couple sticks of wood from the pile as he made his way to the door. Inside was a tiny woodstove whose fire had all but gone out. Putting the new pieces in, Djalma stirred the coals. Even though the temperature in the cabin was much colder than what Ian was used to at home, just to be in a place that was dry and warmed by the dying fire was a welcome luxury.

The interior of the cabin could not have been much more than 250 square feet. The space was divided into two rooms. The back room, more the size of a closet, appeared to be Djalma’s sleeping quarters. Through the drawn cloth that served as a door, Ian could see a thin pad and covers on a raised platform.

Benches sat against the opposing walls, just inside the door, and were the only seating. A very small table and an old, cast-iron sink, with large water bottles stored under it, were against one wall, farther into the house. Over the sink were a window and several shelves, sporting only a few pans and dishes. The woodstove faced the door, against the wall between the living and sleeping spaces.

Ian suspected that the massive number of books, which covered every inch of wall space not otherwise occupied, provided most of Djalma’s insulation. The weight of books seemed to exceed the sturdiness of the shelves perched over the bench where Ian sat. He hoped, however, that they would not collapse this morning.

Djalma made some hot tea and brought Ian’s over to him. Ian held the cup for warmth and Djalma put his own cup on the table next to the opposite bench. In a single step Djalma was back in the kitchen, pulling a large pot from the wall over the stove and taking a small knife from the sink. He sat down on the bench across from Ian and placed the pot on the floor in front of him.

With one hand, Djalma grabbed the bottom of the bag he had carried from the river and dumped it onto the floor. Roots, bark, twigs, and an occasional green sprig, along with a lot of dirt fell out. Paying no attention to Ian, Djalma picked up a handful of items and started to scrape, cut, and shred portions of his collected treasures, tossing parts in the large pot, parts in a bucket nearby. If Djalma had swapped receptacles for this work, Ian was certain that he would have never known which was to be compost and which was to become stew (or whatever it was that Djalma was creating).

In time, the reawakened fire required that they shed some of their outer garments. Ian forgot about the growing heap of ingredients in Djalma’s pot and the books perched just above his head. He talked easily about more of what had been going on while Djalma worked and listened. Ian told Djalma about his experimentation of moving items in and out of the room, as well as why he felt the teapot to be the central key to the event. Changing expressions on the young man’s face assured Ian that Djalma was absorbed in every word. Djalma rarely gave any response other than a grunt of acceptance now and then, until finally Ian was silent. For a few minutes, the only sounds were the fire crackling and the rain that had begun to fall on the tin roof.

When Djalma finally spoke, it was with a tone of concern. “What you have believed to be thoughtful furnishing of your home has actually been a bit of energetic alchemy. From what you tell me, you have been stirring this brew for a long time, and with some purposeful intent, though subconsciously.”

Djalma was proving to be most of what Ian expected of a generally proclaimed “wise” person, unerringly peaceful, possessing an occasionally disconcerting insight, and impossible to predict. After this brief statement, the young man seemed content to sit silently, as if waiting for Ian to process his diagnosis.

Ian wondered, is that it? Is that all he has to say, after all I have told him?

After fruitlessly waiting for Djalma to expound on his statement, Ian said, “Please explain what you mean.”

“First of all, you are comfortable, are you not, with the idea that everything is made up of energy, and the physical world is an illusion?” Djalma asked.

“Sure,” Ian responded. “In theory, anyway.”

Djalma spoke quietly, his eyes intently focused on Ian’s face. “Though not often experienced as you have recently, it is more than theory. It is so. How are you with the concept of infinite realities?”

Ian defaulted to an attempt at humor. “I like it, but no more than a couple nights a week.”

Djalma’s smile still conveyed seriousness.

“Sorry,” Ian said. “Just what do you mean?”

Djalma (to be continued next week)

last week, Liz (part 2)

copyright 2006 CG Walters

C.G. Walters primarily writes fiction that focuses on the multidimensionality of our loves and our lives.

Autographed/signed copies of Sacred Vow are available from the author– or purchase as ebook or the Amazon Kindle version

Please join me as a friend at any of my other favorite hangouts: Facebook, StumbleUpon, Friendfeed, Twitter, Plurk, or Digg

Saturday, September 20, 2008

CelebraZine: 20 Sept 08

Practice random kindness and senseless acts of beauty. ~ Anne Herbert, peace activist

photo by Yodod

Welcome to the Second Edition of the CelebraZine (Celebration eZine) blog carnival.

Our focus dictates what we see, which reinforces our focus, further confining the possibility of what we will see. Initially, twice a month we will put together a collection of blogs containing text, image, video, and audio from talented people empowering others and Celebrating What's Right in the World!

May you be blessed by these offerings reminding us of the beauty, wonder, and sacredness in the world around us and within us.

Celebrate Living, Celebrate Yourself!

I would like to open with this beautiful video, The Gentle and Forgotten Art of Blessings posted by butterflygris on Youtube.
From Butterflygris' profile: "We are people from different backgrounds and all walks of life. The spirit of sharing is the essence of personal and planetary transformation."

Anna presents Love burns away all that is not itself posted at HummingBird.
Beautiful image and imagery of the nature or love.

Karen Lawrence presents Simple Questions posted at Assist the Artist. Simple questions bring us to the core of the soul.

Lori presents LORI'S HEALING COLLECTION 87 at Authentic Soul's Photos
In this large, inspiring collection, Lori shares her artwork that has had a profound healing effect on her.

Samme presents Tale of Redemption posted at Samme "Prince Samwise" Samareta's Blog
Bill Strickland's journey from at-risk youth to 1996 MacArthur "Genius" grant recipient would be remarkable in itself, if it were not overshadowed by the staggering breadth of his vision.

But what is happiness except the simple harmony between a [person] and the life [they] lead? --Albert Camus

Dan Kretschmer presents 10 Ways To Boost Your Creativity posted at vince's ear.
No matter what line of work you’re in, or what you do in your free time, we all need to rely on creative solutions.

Todd Goldfarb presents THE SHIFT at WE The Change
THE SHIFT Really Is Happening!
This video focuses on the global shift in consciousness and reminds us that every thought, word and action we display has a great impact on others. Many people are witnessing and feeling a shift in the universe which is beginning to move from an ego based energy to a more loving and caring energy. This new energy will bring more light into the world.

Drunvalo speaks about his book entitled: The Serpent of Light: Beyond 2012 - The Movement of the Earth’s Kundalini and the Rise of the Female Light, 1949-2013.

Lawrence Doochin presents What is Right posted at I am Therefore I am.
Next time you encounter someone with heavy judgment, hear them out.

photo by Travelling Pooh

In this regularly inspiring presentation of quotes, Lanceman reminds us of the sublime wisdom of Pooh in the Sunday Thought For The Day at The Jungle of Life
“Promise me you’ll always remember: ....."

Selena presents TELL ME SOMETHING on YouTube
Not every message of Spirit is in a 'rarefied' form. Nothing is outside of Spirit, and Spirit will bring its message to the surface in whatever place is most conducive to promote the message—sometimes in surprising forms.
Somehow, during my work for this edition, I encountered this song and was taken by the pop presentation of Joseph Campbell's "Follow your Bliss."

Ross G presents
Get excited about life! posted at Will it change you: portal for personal growth.
Ross also loves seeing people who are enthusiastic and passionate about life!

True happiness is not attained through self-gratification, but through fidelity to a worthy purpose.--Helen Keller

axel presents
Meditation And Transformation posted at axel g.
Meditation practice can be highly transformative.

photo by cindy47452

Razvan Dobre presents How To Live A Better Life - 13 Ways To Live A Better Life Today! posted at Blog.
Every day is a piece of this puzzle called life and it's great when we succeed in placing a piece right were it should be.

Alex Blackwell presents
Seven Powerful Techniques to Ignite the Fire Inside posted at The BridgeMaker.
“Nothing great in the world has ever been accomplished without passion.” -Hegel

Bryan Flournoy interviews Radio Host, Vaishali at Making It All Click.
Fasten your love seat belts, because Vaishali is hitting the air and print waves. Move over Howard Stern, Vaishali, the Spiritual Wild Child has arrived, and is exposing the world to her full frontal naked truths. "Big, double D truths" as Vaishali likes...

Myrko presents The 10 Most Inspirational Quotes by The Buddha at AwakeBlogger.
"Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared."

This concludes the Second Edition of the CelebraZine (Celebration eZine) blog carnival. Thank you for being a part of the miracle of celebration!

Many blessings to you and all you hold dear...until the next celebration...

Please be part of spreading the positive into the world around you! If you have enjoyed or benefited from any of these encouraging perspectives, please be sure to bookmark this carnival and our contributors’ pages in your favorite service—StumbleUpon, Digg, etc. (click below). Also, let those dear to you, your co-workers, everyone around you know What's Right in the World! It makes the world better for us all.

Submit a single submission of empowering/uplifting audio/podcast, image/collection, text/poetry/quote, or video for our 04 Oct 08 edition (deadline, Thursday, 02 Oct). If you have any problem submitting, please
send submissions directly to me at kathmandau at cgwalters dot com--Blog carnival erased the "upcoming edition" daily during the last two weeks.

Note: Please point out to us anyone's work that you think should be included in a Celebration of What's Right in the World--empowering people and spirit.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Serialization of Sacred Vow: Liz (continued)

photo by by Pragmagraphr

Classified as metaphysical fiction, Sacred Vow is a love story of a very unusual nature. …. Any new relationship has complications, and Katerina and Ian, the lovers in this story, are no different. However, there is one catch. Ian and Katerina are trying to build a relationship across dimensional planes; visiting each other through meditations and visions. Walters does a fine job of expressing not only the awkwardness of a new relationship, but the hesitancy anyone might encounter in trying to explain non-quantifiable experiences to those around them. —Kate Turner for New Connexion Magazine

Installment 10 of 22
Sacred Vow (Dragon's Beard Publishing, ISBN: 978-0-9774271-4-7, paperback, Fiction: Visionary/Metaphysical).

Liz (continued)

Still unsure how to proceed without appearing unstable, Ian said, “Liz, have you ever had a possession, which seemed to have more to it than just its physical properties? It’s hard to explain . . . well . . . when you’re relaxed, quiet, and unguarded, it makes you feel as if you know something about its past? Or the people who owned it before?”

Liz’s response almost scared him to death. “Oh, you mean an energetic imprint? Energy stored in an inanimate object, which can affect those in contact with it?”

“Um-m-m.” He didn’t know how to respond. Liz smiled kindly, and then Ian knew she had not asked with any judgment in mind. Still cautious, he replied, “Ye-e-es. You could call it that.”

“I told you, I can be a surprise,” Liz said. “Now, sweetie, maybe we can have the conversation you came here for.”

Ian felt the tension drain from his shoulders. He could not say if it was because he finally felt relaxed about pursuing this topic with Liz, or if it was merely a result of exhaustion from trying to dance around the subject. One thing Ian was sure of, whether she thought he was crazy or not, he now felt much more at ease about asking his questions.

“Liz, when I asked to buy that teapot, it was only to remind me of the wonderful time that you, and your B&B, provided Beverly and me. I expected nothing more of it.

“But I soon began having a certain experience every time I used the pot in my study.” Ian paused to summon his courage. He started to speak to Liz of “visits,” but suddenly felt fearful, and restricted himself to calling them “visions” instead. His suspicion was that the concept of visions required much less indulgence on the part of the listener.

“I began to have visions of a woman, about my age, with long, auburn hair. She speaks, but I cannot hear her words. Crazy as it seems, I have to admit that I’ve come to an intense feeling of intimacy with her. I am certain, that in the deepest meaning of the word, I know her well.”

“And you think the woman in your vision has some connection with the woman who left the teapot?” Liz asked.

With this question Ian went from being afraid of sounding delusional to feeling shame for being ridiculously naive. “Well . . . yes. It seems so. Do you think that is unlikely?”

Liz topped off his tea. “This will go more quickly if I tell you a little bit of what I know about the pot’s previous owners.

“They were here about two months before your visit. It seemed they had some business in the area and used my place as a base. Though they stayed for three weeks, I did not see much of them. As I do with all my guests, I tried to make them comfortable and welcome. They did not want to be bothered. Even though they never expressed it in so many words, they made it clear they saw me as a servant, not as a friend or a social equal.

“After they left, I noticed that they had left behind a number of items, including the teapot. So I called to ask if they’d like me to ship the pieces home. The wife was indignant. ‘Oh, no! We left them intentionally. We only bought them because—because they were more—familiar,’ she told me.

“She stumbled over the words when she realized that she had been more truthful than she’d meant to be. It was quite clear that she liked those tea things better than the ones I had in the suite, but even they were not suitable for her home. I pitied her, despite the slight, and thanked her for her generosity.

“This lady looked nothing like the woman you’re describing in your vision. She was a good bit younger than you, though she acted older than both of us. She was short and thickset, had short, dark hair, well cared for, but with a style weighted on convenience. Her clothes were also more practical than becoming. In fact, passionless pretense seemed to be her defining focus.

“I think I’m a pretty good judge of character. My years of serving people have given me time to observe and to learn. I feel safe in saying that this woman, bless her soul, is a person so afraid of living that, if you were to tell her your story, even if she were single, she would do everything she could to have you put away—for presenting possibilities that terrify her.”

With the insight that Liz provided, Ian decided that it might be helpful to have some outside input on his experience. “Liz, what is your opinion of what I’ve told you?”

“Ian, I do not question your experience. I’m only telling you what you already know. Be careful to whom you speak of this experience. There are a lot of people who are more interested in maintaining the illusion of knowing than coming to any real understanding of reality. They will make every effort to stop anyone who upsets their self-deluding beliefs.”

Ian felt suddenly downcast. “That is true.”

Liz leaned forward quickly and said eagerly, “But all is not lost! I cannot help you much with your exploration. I’ve always preferred to spend my time with my flowers and my guests, rather than in explicit consideration of such things. But, I have a friend who can help you. This old fellow is a little unconventional, but he can give you just the kind of assistance you need for something like this.”

“That would be great, Liz! Thank you. Can we invite him over today?” Ian asked excitedly. No matter how peculiar this fellow might be, Ian felt like he was getting nowhere alone and he knew of no one who might be able to explain the kinds of experiences he’d been having.

“It’s not so easy as that,” Liz said. “But we are in luck. Normally, we’d have to traipse all over the woods trying to find my friend. He doesn’t have a phone, but I happen to know he is house-sitting this weekend for a neighbor, who does have a phone.”

Liz got up and went into the kitchen to make the call. Ian could see her through the double doors.

“Hello, Djalma. This is Liz. How’s the house sitting going, sweetie?

“Oh? Nice . . .

“I need a favor, darlin’. I have a friend here who could use your special help. He’s been having some unusual visits. Do you think you could see him sometime soon?”

Ian noticed Liz’s choice of the word “visits”. Was it merely coincidental? He had not used that word while talking with her.

Liz got a pad and pencil from a kitchen drawer. As she listened, she took notes.

“In two weeks? On Saturday?”

Liz looked at Ian for confirmation. He nodded.

“He says that’s good, Djalma. Do you need to go to his place? I can drive you. Ian lives several hours away . . .

“No? Okay, I will tell him how to get to your cabin.”

Liz listened a minute and then said, “Okay, on the stone by the bridge . . .

“At seven in the morning? That’s a little early, sweetie. Are you sure?

“Oh? Well, okay then.”

Again Liz looked to Ian. Feeling he was in no position to bargain when asking a favor, Ian nodded while shrugging his shoulders.

“That will work,” she confirmed.

Ian could tell by listening to Liz’s side of the conversation that his meeting would be a challenging one.

“Ian says these visits started when he acquired a certain teapot. Should he bring it with him?” She paused. “No teapot.”

Liz returned her attention to Ian and gave him a questioning look. He knew of nothing else to ask, so he just nodded.

“Thanks, sweetie. He’ll be there. Again, his name is Ian. Stop by if you have questions later . . .

“You too.” Liz smiled widely. “What do you think about that cat of theirs? A real Buddha personality wouldn’t you say?”

She listened for a bit longer and then said, “Yes, amazing. Enjoy. Bye now, see you soon.”

Liz returned the phone to the cradle and brought her pad to the table.

“There you go, Ian. You’re in good hands now.”

Looking at his instructions, it crossed Ian’s mind to ask, “What if it is raining or snowing that day? It does that a lot in the winter here.”

“Djalma said there is no need to worry about that.”

The sheer certainty of her voice didn’t completely alleviate Ian’s concerns, but he could tell that was all the comfort he was going to get from Liz. She brewed another pot of tea, and they spent the rest of the afternoon chatting about other things.

During the next couple of days, Ian was too busy at work to even think much about his visit with Liz or the upcoming meeting with her friend. In fact, for some days Ian didn’t even have time for a cup of tea. It was just as well. He did not want to risk inadvertently doing additional harm to Katerina.

Continued next week,

last week, Liz (part 1)

copyright 2006

C.G. Walters primarily writes fiction that focuses on the multidimensionality of our loves and our lives.

Purchase as ebook , the Amazon Kindle version , or autographed copy.

Please join me as a friend at any of my other favorite hangouts: Facebook, StumbleUpon, Friendfeed, Twitter, Plurk, or Digg

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Serialization of Sacred Vow: Liz

photo by Francesco Basile

Classified as metaphysical fiction, Sacred Vow is a love story of a very unusual nature. …. Any new relationship has complications, and Katerina and Ian, the lovers in this story, are no different. However, there is one catch. Ian and Katerina are trying to build a relationship across dimensional planes; visiting each other through meditations and visions. Walters does a fine job of expressing not only the awkwardness of a new relationship, but the hesitancy anyone might encounter in trying to explain non-quantifiable experiences to those around them. —Kate Turner for New Connexion Magazine

Installment 9 of 22 Sacred Vow (Dragon's Beard Publishing, ISBN: 978-0-9774271-4-7, paperback, Fiction: Visionary/Metaphysical).


Ian had acquired the teapot from his friend Liz’s bed and breakfast the year before, while on vacation in the mountains with his long-time girlfriend, Beverly. Ian thought he wanted her to have it as a reminder of the good times they seemed to have had on that trip. Sadly, a few weeks after returning, from the mountains they found it necessary to accept that the relationship was not fully providing either person’s needs. The only resolution they could agree on was to separate.

It was a sad time for Ian. Their relationship had been his most enduring since a short, failed marriage when he was much younger. It had seemed obvious that his relationship with Beverly had been falling apart even before the trip, but he had not wanted to see it.

When Beverly tried to pack the teapot with her things as she moved out, Ian was annoyed—and thus became aware of whom he had really bought it for. He was irritated, yet somewhat amused, that Beverly would now choose to claim a gift that she had all but rejected when Ian had given it to her. If anything, she had expressed almost contempt for the teapot and had repeatedly indicated an interest in giving it away.

Ian was surprised, however, by the attachment he found himself expressing for the teapot. After all, it was wholly unremarkable in appearance, manufacture, and function. From the beginning, however, the teapot’s impact on his life proved to be much the opposite.

Ian’s fondness for that simple teapot had seemed to have a special ability to upset Beverly. He could not understand how they had such opposite reactions to a simple ceramic pot. As he looked back on those days now, Ian felt fortunate that Katerina had not visited the few times Beverly used the pot to make tea. He was sure that such an inopportune visit would have spelled doom for his beloved teapot.

Despite its association with the end of Ian’s relationship with Beverly and the beginning of some strange activity in his life, it was good to see Elizabeth—Liz—Fontilineau’s bed and breakfast again. It had been the centerpiece of his vacation with Beverly.

When seen while driving up the country road, Liz’s bed and breakfast appeared to be a one or two-story flat-roofed building with some Victorian enhancements. But once past a green border of trees and bushes on the approaching side (or sooner when it was winter), you would become aware that the house was deeper than it was wide. It was built on a steep bank bordering the road. This fact hid the extra height of the building. If you were not stopping at the upper guest parking, on the approaching side of the B&B, you made a right turn on the opposite side of the house and drove down and around back to Liz’s parking place and gardens. From there, the south side, the B&B looked like a townhouse, three stories over a basement.

Liz told him that the building had once been a general store and feed supply. Though it took a lot of work to fix up, she had bought it for the location and the space it provided for the price. Now Liz had multi-bed guest suites on the upper two floors. The common dining area and her private living space were on the bottom floor. The basement, exposed only on the east and south, was used for storage and gardening supplies. The two upper floors had balconies, and the first floor was wrapped on two sides with a wide deck.

Liz was a joy to be with. She and Ian had become good friends since they met on his trip with Beverly. Over seventy years old, she was a tall, remarkably elegant woman . . . elegant for any age. She spent much of her time in the bountiful gardens that spread around the house.

Ian would not have expected to find Liz inside, except that it was winter. She opened the door to greet him. Three weeks of abstinence from visiting Katerina had not brought about quite the health recovery that he had convinced himself it would. Though it would take far more to force Liz from her usual decorum, her eyes betrayed fleetingly her shock at Ian’s haggard appearance.

Then she said, “Give me a hug, darlin’.” She spoke in a charming deep-South accent—not heard very often in the mountains of the Northeast—and opened her arms to greet him.

Ian stepped through the door, glad to wrap his arms around her.

“Hello Liz. It’s wonderful to see you again.”

The year before, Beverly, Ian, and Liz had had many enjoyable conversations. Liz proved to be not only gracious, but a very wise, fascinating woman. During those leisurely conversations, Ian had never been able to extract from Liz just how she came to her knowledge. Her attention was focused on the “here and now,” to caring for her gardens and being cordial to her guests, which she did so intently that it was almost a mystical art.

Now Liz led Ian through the door to the dining room and said, “The water for tea went on as soon as I saw you pull up.”

“Thank you, Liz,” Ian said. “You are such a wonderful hostess.” He pulled back a chair from her large, double-pedestal dining table and sat down. She always had a way of making a person feel special.

“It is what I enjoy. It is what I do,” she replied, and she disappeared for a moment through the double hideaway doors that led to the kitchen.

Every move Liz made, everything about her appearance, and all the choices she made were graceful and genteel, Ian thought. He realized that the music playing softly in the background was a recording of a Mozart concerto, performed on original period instruments.

He got up and looked through the windows toward the river west of the inn. Ian called, “How have you been, Liz? Did you have a nice Christmas?”

“I’ve been doing very well. Thank you for asking, Ian.” Liz came through the door, carrying an exquisite silver tea service with a plate of the most fragrant scones. “It was a lovely Christmas. The weather was cold, with just enough snow for the mood of winter, without being troublesome. I spent time with many dear friends, of course . . . By the way, thank you for sending me that lovely Christmas card.”

Just being around Liz brought out Ian’s best manners. “My pleasure, Liz.”

“How have you been, Ian?” The tone of Liz’s voice held none of the alarm Ian had seen on her face when Liz had first greeted him.

“I’m alright, Liz.”

Liz paused for only a moment before responding, “I’m glad to hear it.”

Ian could not overcome feeling guilty about his obvious lie, so he added, “Though I’ve been working too much. It’s been wearing on me lately. But I think that’s about to turn a corner.”

“That’s good,” Liz said. “One always needs to care for the spirit.”

Ian looked around the room, seeking to diffuse the nervousness that was starting to build within him. Against the wall next to the kitchen, Liz had a pie safe with glass doors. If this had been her busy season, the cabinet would have displayed several cakes and pies. Now it was empty. The standard flower arrangement was absent from the center of the table, replaced with holly for the winter season.

Placing tray on the table, Liz looked up at Ian, “I hope you like scones.”

They sat and sipped green tea, spending the next hour relishing the maple-flavored scones and finding out what each had been doing since they had last been together.

“I was sorry to hear about you and Beverly,” Liz said. “You two seemed so happy together when you first arrived.”

“Thank you, Liz. Obviously something was not quite what it should have been. Anyway, the separation seems to be best for us both.”

“Well, that’s good. I know it had to be painful. But if you are both happy, I’m glad for you,” she said sympathetically.

Liz’s enjoyment of the simple pleasures of the moment and her unwavering attentiveness were, as always, so infectious that until she brought it up, Ian had completely forgotten about the teapot and the visions that he had been obsessed with for months.

“So, tell me, sweetie, what is it that you want to know about this teapot of yours?”

As comfortable as he felt with Liz, Ian realized that their conversations had never entered into esotericism. If Ian had to guess, he would have speculated that Liz had no such interest. He’d wondered whether she had never been drawn to such things or had just passed beyond the need of like expressions.

Ian answered carefully, not wanting to sound insane, “Oh, I don’t know, Liz. I’ve just come to believe there is something very special about it.”

Liz leaned back and gazed at Ian in a way that made him feel she was looking right inside of him. He was becoming uncomfortable. Always before, she had maintained a mix of Southern politeness and New England reserve. Never had he felt the slightest impulse in Liz to be openly curious. He would have assumed that she considered prying to be bad manners. But today, her quiet look felt almost intrusive.

Eventually, Liz shifted her gaze, smiled, and tilted her head to one side as she lifted her teacup. “It’s a pretty teapot, darlin,’ but there is nothing special about it. I was glad to give it to you when you asked to buy it. I’m not really sure why I kept it after that couple said they didn’t want it back.”

When Liz had given him the teapot, she had told Ian that a previous guest had left the teapot behind, but she had said nothing more. Its history had seemed unimportant at that time. He had been happy to have a token to remember a wonderful, peaceful time, and the teapot had served that purpose well. Beyond that, Ian had not thought much about it.

But all that had changed. Now he was curious. “A couple left it?”

Ian’s question was not as telling as the quick way he spoke, the tone of his voice. He was embarrassed, and he hoped Liz failed to pick up on his expressed eagerness.

She smiled and put her teacup down. “Yes, it was a couple, a husband and wife.” She paused. “Now it’s your turn, dear.”

Lost in his thoughts, Ian was slow to respond. He had hoped that the previous owner had been a single woman. It came as a surprise to see how much of a romantic fantasy he had built up. Ian imagined that he had been experiencing a connection with a proverbial “soul mate,” through the mutual connection of the teapot. Ian had not been aware of it until now, but despite all the elaborate trappings of the visions, some part of him had adopted the notion that the person he was visiting had previously owned the teapot and was “of this world.”

Liz waited patiently for his response, smiling and giving him all the time he needed. She took a bite of scone and gave him an encouraging look.

Initially, Ian was not ready to accept his disappointment. “Excuse me?”

Liz leaned forward and reached across the table. She touched his hand gently and said, “I will be glad to tell you everything I can about the teapot, Ian. You don’t even have to tell me why you want to know. But I think you’ll be surprised to learn that I know a little something about a lot of things you might never imagine.”

Copyright 2006 CG Walters

(Liz continued next week)

last week, Dark Visits

C.G. Walters primarily writes fiction that focuses on the multidimensionality of our loves and our lives.

Purchase as ebook, the Amazon Kindle version, or autographed copy.

Please join me as a friend at any of my other favorite hangouts: Facebook, StumbleUpon, Friendfeed, Twitter, Plurk, or Digg

Thanks to JM at October Scribes Blog Carnival for featuring this serialization segment.

Saturday, September 6, 2008

Synchronicity and my Playful Mentor

The world is made of spider webs
The threads are stuck to me and you
Be careful what you’re wishing for
’cause when you gain you just might lose
’You just might lose your...Spider web
-- Spiderweb © 1995 Joan Osborne

There is a great deal of wisdom in the world around us, coming out from the most surprising places. Powerful, intense messages reach out and inspire our attention as if the words are in neon, bold font--out of context and singled out in print, in a song, or maybe it will appear as an image with a particular ‘glow’ that speaks to the core of our existence—speak to us, specifically. It’s really quite entertaining how we are so personally related to, as if by some magical, unseen mentor of a very playful spirit.

Sometimes there might only be a single line or relevant point in an entire book. Even so, this small part adds beyond the comprehension of reason to our life. When we are particularly blessed, we encounter a song, book, image, etc that continues new communication with us time after time we return to it. In such cases, there is just no anticipating where our partner in this mysterious conversation just might take us next.

May you be so blessed and guided, my friends,

This song by singer/songwriter Joan Osborne (also --link to purchase Joan’s work from either place).
Complete lyrics

Spiderweb © 1995 Joan Osborne
I dreamed about ray charles last night

And he could see just fine

Dreamed about ray charles last night
And he could see just fine,
you know I asked him for a lullaby
He said, ’honey, I don’t sing no more
’No more, no more, no more
Ray don’t sing no more

He said, ’since I got my eyesight back,
My voice has just deserted me.
No ’georgia on my mind’ no more...
I stay in bed with mtv.

’Then ray took his glasses off
And I could look inside his head
Flashing like a thunderstorm
I saw a shining spider web
Spider web (repeat 3x)

In ray charles’ head
I dreamed about ray charles last night
He took me flying in the air
Showed my own spider webs
Said, ’honey, you had best take care.
The world is made of spider webs
The threads are stuck to me and you
Be careful what you’re wishing for
’cause when you gain you just might lose
’You just might lose your...
Spider web (repeat 3x)

What ray charles said
When you’re feelin’ lonely
When you’re hidin’ in your bed
Don’t forget your string of pearls
Don’t forget your spider web

When I go to sleep tonight
Don’t let me dream of brother ray
No, no, no, don’t...
Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad he sees
Just like him best the other way

Spider web (repeat 3x)
What ray charles said...
In ray charles head

All I got’s my spider web
C’mon ray
Keepin’ me alive

Friday, September 5, 2008

Serialization of Sacred Vow: Dark Visits

Sacred Vow shares with us the magic of a loving commitment that spans time and the understanding that such a commitment needs to be held sacred. It is a love story, one that shows the journey towards one true love has infinite expressions. —Monthly Aspectarian, Chicago

Installment 8 of 22
Sacred Vow (Dragon's Beard Publishing, ISBN: 978-0-9774271-4-7, paperback, Fiction: Visionary/Metaphysical).

Dark Visits

For some time to come, Ian was content to understand nothing more about why and how he and Katerina were brought together. The fact that their time shared gave him great happiness was enough. The experiences had no perceptible impact on his day-to-day life. The joyful sensations that he had in trade for a few unaccountable seconds during his daily cup of tea were precious.

Ian knew he was growing increasingly attached to an experience that he could not explain to most people, but what was the harm? Just like many others, he had dinner or a few drinks with friends after a day of less than fulfilling employment. So what if he then came home and had tea with his mysterious friend Katerina? Though theirs was not the most orthodox relationship that he had ever known, it made him inexplicably content.

Unfortunately, Ian’s time spent outside the domain of his conscious world did not remain confined to only a few seconds during each visit. He did not mind initially when the time span increased a little. But after a while, there was evidence that he actually was losing consciousness during the sessions and for unpredictable amounts of time during visits with his tea companion.

When the visits began, Ian felt as though his perception was briefly being expanded to include some part of reality not ordinarily seen by him, and he willfully chose to concentrate his full attention on that redefinition of his world for a period of time. What he was now beginning to experience was more like an unavoidable blackout. Sometimes for seconds, sometimes for hours.

Despite the implied danger, he continued to desire contact with Katerina. Common sense forced Ian to consider that he might be out of control. He could no longer avoid the blackout experience if he had the ritual cup of tea, and yet he could not deny himself visits with her. Of additional concern to him, the visions had begun to leave Ian with the sensation of a particularly noxious poison flowing into every cell of his body.

After a time, Ian began to notice disconcerting changes in Katerina’s appearance. Since he believed that it was the traveling that was affecting his health, and he was generally the one doing the traveling, Ian had not imagined that their visits could have a corresponding ill effect on Katerina.

Tea was later than usual that night. He had stayed at work late to catch up on some things that had been delayed due to his developing health issues. Feeling like he had just dragged himself across the infinite space between their realities, Ian strained to focus on the likeness of Katerina that was available to him. No longer was her image fully formed and substantial. It was more phantasmal like he had seen of his own form when he first visited her world.

He didn’t know if he would be able to remain this time any longer than the other visits of late. Why have I come back with no more answers than before? he wondered.

Ian had to ask himself why he was making so much effort to bring Katerina’s image into view. He knew it would only sadden him. Even if he could overcome the visual distortion, it was evident much more was going terribly wrong.

In the beginning, Katerina’s face had been radiant. Now it was growing haggard and unhealthy looking. She moved like a completely different person, with a labored step rather than her former gracefully flowing movements.

The haziness of her present form kept Ian from being able to make out much of Katerina’s countenance. He hoped all this unpleasantness was the result of the delusional consciousness that now seemed to take hold of him during recent visits. If Ian could trust what he saw, her bright eyes, with their bold spirit, had become dim—and perhaps angry.

Thinking the details of his facial expressions were probably no clearer to her than hers were to him, Ian raised his hand to say hello. She threw him a kiss in return. Though the action told him she was not angry with him, it actually made him more depressed about the situation. It was disheartening to see Katerina struggle through the visit as if she was also victim to a poisonous atmosphere, even though she tried to be congenial. If she was subject to any of the same physical effects that he was, Ian did not want to impose the situation on her.

In desperation to express his feelings for her, Ian tried to move toward Katerina, but he could not budge. He could sense that he had a fever, and that it was rising rapidly. He knew he would not be able to remain much longer. Maybe this is only a delusion from the fever, he thought. How he wanted to believe that was the case!

Transitions in and out of the visions had lost their unheralded nature. A flood of input to Ian’s nervous system signaled the beginning to his return home: nausea, tension, and pain. It warned that he would pay for this transition. These days, he increasingly felt some of these symptoms while in the visit. However bad it was during the visit, it was much worse as the visit ended.

Ian reached out as to try to touch Katerina, just before the scenery reverted to his study. With his high fever, sweat was rolling down his face. The only way Ian kept the pain in his poisoned muscles from making him vomit was by clenching his teeth. With long, slow breaths, he started to calm his stomach. This, however, was not all good news. Recent experience told him that as soon as the physical distractions subsided, he would have to fight the onset of a round with depression. Though the vision seemed relatively short, his watch told him that he had been “out” for half the night.

His blackouts had become extended, and the nasty aftereffects lingered long after his return. Quite often, Ian “awoke” with his body fighting off this resulting fever. He also had the sensation of a sleeper who had not been fully released from a dream.

He made his way to the bathroom sink, to throw some cold water on his face. Ian hoped it would cool him off and shake him completely free from this nightmare. The face in the mirror was looking as strained as Katerina’s had. After each visit, Ian swore that he would not attempt another one before coming to an understanding of what was happening and how to combat the deterioration of their experience together. Yet, as soon as his health recovered enough, he could not resist returning. He knew better, but each time he managed to convince himself that the two of them would not suffer ill effects in the next visit.

The breaking point for Ian came when he started to feel the same erratic waves of distorted perception when he was not with the teapot, or even when he was not at home. In these experiences, he never remembered Katerina appearing, but he would suddenly become conscious of the sensation of returning to awareness—an abrupt regaining of his consciousness—which almost always followed recent visits. This situation was proving to be particularly tricky at work.

One day, Ian was making his way to the office when his supervisor joined him in the hall.

“How are you feeling today, Ian?” she said.

Without slowing his pace, he responded, “Good morning, Mary. I’m doing pretty well. How are you doing?”

The look on her face said that she thought he looked terrible. He knew he had dark circles under his eyes and that his skin was ashen. Ian’s recent visions were costing him much sleep, and his appetite was not good.

“Are you really, Ian?”

“Yes, I really am,” he said.

“And how is the testing going with the doctor?” she asked. “Is he getting any closer to finding the source of the allergy?”

Ian felt he had everyone in his daily world convinced about the causes of his health issues.

“Food allergies can be very complicated to pin down, you know,” Ian said. “There are just too many variables. But we’re making headway, Mary.”

“I hope so, Ian. I would be a lot more comfortable if I knew you were taking time off and focusing on your health. You have enough seniority and vacation to take as much time as you need.

“If the effects of this allergy are causing a lot of insomnia, like you say, you should be home, resting.”

Ian stopped to make eye contact. Mary took a step past him, and then turned to face him.

“I know you’ve been concerned about my health, Mary. I very much appreciate the fact that you are letting me continue to come into the office. With the exception of time needed for doctor’s appointments, and the infrequent time that I can catch a little extra sleep, the best thing for my health is to be here, focused on work instead of my health.”

The last thing Ian wanted to do was remain around the house when he had no idea how to resolve the issue and did not dare to make additional visits.

“Okay, Ian. If you assure me that you will take any time you need,” she said.

“Yes, I will, Mary. Thank you.”

She momentarily put a hand on his shoulder, “Now, if your health allows you, I need for you to do me a favor. I was hoping to ask you for some assistance for an associate working on one of the projects that you are doing research for.”

“Sure, whatever you need,” he said, glad to have the conversation change.

“Do you remember Thomas Hutchins?” she asked. “He is a talented fellow, but his group is a little short of senior-skill-level help and he has been put into a position that might be demanding more than he has experience to handle in the timeframe we need. Can you give him a few pointers in some of the more problematic functions for their code section?”

Mary’s concern was now fully shifted to schedules and performance. That motherly look had completely left her eyes; she was viewing Ian solely as programming talent. He was much relieved.

“No problem at all. I’ll give him a call and set up a work session with him,” Ian said.

Without further delay, she started to walk away, returning to her usual fast pace of making sure each of her current projects was bustling along productively. “Thanks, Ian. He’ll be expecting your call.”

Ian had always preferred to work alone, more now than ever. But if he was going to be under someone’s scrutiny, he much preferred it to be a junior associate rather than his project manager.

A couple of hours later, Ian was sitting at his laptop, going over a code structure with Thomas Hutchins. All had been going well and they were just about to clean up most of the group’s areas of confusion. Out of nowhere, Ian felt faint, as if his consciousness was being forcibly pulled elsewhere. This sensation was similar to the initiation of the recent visits, but he had never been threatened with such a strong experience outside of his study.

“If you move this value to temporary storage . . .”

Ian knew that he had stopped speaking in mid-sentence, but he could not force further words out.

“Are you all right, Ian?” Thomas asked.

Ian’s eyesight was getting patchy and the sense of touch was fading from his fingers, as they became numb. Ian looked down at his right hand, at the fingers frozen in place on the keyboard. He tried to tap the keys, but no finger would move.

Though Ian did not see any vision of Katerina, and did not fully lose sight of the office around him, he experienced many of the unpleasant physical responses that had become common during his recent visions. He managed to avoid blacking out, but it took every effort he could muster. Ian didn't know for sure whether Thomas believed that he was conscious during the entire episode.

Thomas had placed a hand on Ian’s shoulder. He was leaning forward to look into Ian’s face. “Ian?”

Fortunately, the immobilizing spell snapped at just that moment. Instantly, Ian’s vision recovered, and the cloud in his mind vaporized. He found his voice. “Sorry. What were you saying, Thomas?”

Thomas quickly pulled his hand away and shifted his weight back to the center of his seat. “Are you all right?” There was an obvious concern in his voice.

Ian tried to cover up. “Oh, yes. Sorry, I was completely absorbed, thinking about a possible solution to that database screening. I just might have a solution.”

“Oh? Sure,” Thomas said.

“I’ll work on that later,” Ian said. “Now concerning this module.” He pushed ahead without hesitation, gave the junior programmer an important bit of code to work on, and sent him on his way.

Ian knew Thomas did not believe his explanation for his peculiar behavior, but Thomas was young and unsure of his status in the company. He would not cause any problem for Ian by bringing up the episode with anyone else. Ian knew he would have to spend a good bit of time instructing Thomas on how to work through that module, but the effort was well worth the trouble if it bought his silence. Thomas would benefit, in turn, from Ian’s instruction and from the recognition he would receive once the code was completed. Still, Ian was sorry to have to use his seniority in such a way.

Ian had had other experiences when he was away from the study. Fortunately, the incident with Thomas was the worst. However, it had become evident that Ian could have the blackouts not only at unpredictable times, but in random places as well. He was afraid he might even black out while driving. He needed answers, right away, concerning the recurring visions of the alluring but silent Katerina. And he felt confident that a visit to the original home of the teapot would provide some resolution.

Continued next week,

copyright 2006

CG Walters C.G. Walters primarily writes fiction that focuses on the multidimensionality of our loves and our lives.

Purchase as ebook or the Amazon Kindle version, or buy autographed copy.

Please join me as a friend at any of my other favorite hangouts: Facebook, StumbleUpon, Friendfeed, Twitter, Plurk, or Digg

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

CelebraZine: 03 Sept 08

"I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”~ Maya Angelou

photo by Amor Ministries

Welcome to the First Edition of the CelebraZine (Celebration eZine) blog carnival.

Our focus dictates what we see, which reinforces our focus, further confining the possibility of what we will see. Initially, twice a month we will put together of collection of blogs containing text, image, video, and audio from talented people empowering others and Celebrating What's Right in the World!

May you be blessed by these offerings reminding us of the beauty, wonder, and sacredness in the world around us and within us.
This first edition heavily leans toward the written celebration. I have included some of my recent favorites from across the web.

Let's start the celebration of yourself!


We will start off our premiere edition with Dewitt Jones’ "Celebrate What’s Right in the World” ( ) video. For those of you who do not already know, this carnival was inspired by the sublime genius of the message in this 22 minute video, provided for your viewing in conjunction with Dewitt and Starthrower.

My friend Satya-Seer presents at Satya-Seer
"Life can be pretty complicated, but happiness is really quite simple."

Be a part of the expression of celebration. Submit your video blog for the next submission deadline Thurs, 18 Sept 08


Kala Ambrose presents Sacred Choices with Christel Nani at Explore Your Spirit with Kala
In Nani’s new book, SACRED CHOICES: Thinking Outside the Tribe to Heal Your Spirit (Harmony Books), she helps identify what tribal beliefs are limiting full potential in all areas of life.

John Wolfe presents Our Origin and Purpose at The Wind of the Soul.
Access the information within you.

Be a part of the expression of celebration. Submit your audio blog/podcast for the next submission deadline Thurs, 18 Sept 08


Anand Dhillon presents 3 Easy Ways to Change Your Emotional State Instantly posted at Anand, saying, "The quality of our lives is the quality of our emotions. This article details 3 unique ways to instantly put yourself in a positive emotional state when you are feeling down."

Anja Merret presents Singing like Angels posted at anja merret.
What happens to the psychology when the mindset of a 'given' is rewritten?

Axel G presents Learning To Trust posted at axel g
Let's meet life and people with trust!!

Cindy Holbrook presents 21 Habits of Happy People at PickTheBrain. We’ve all seen people who are always happy – even amidst agonizing life trials. I’m not saying happy people don’t feel grief, sorrow or sadness; they just don’t let it overtake their life. The following are 21 things happy people make a habit of doing. Note: When not writing of PickTheBrain, Cindy blogs at Overcoming Life’s Obstacles.

Elaine Bolduc presents "Diamonds in the Rough" posted at Peaceful Inspirations.
“The precision of the cut is what brings out the greatest beauty of the diamond.”

Henrik Edberg presents Mark Twain’s Top 9 Tips for Living a Kick-Ass Life at ThePositivityBlog. “Let us live so that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry.”--Mark Twain

Jennifer Mannion presents Living the Law of Attraction -- Real Stories of Manifestations and Healing posted at Heal Pain Naturally.
By reading "Living the Law of Attraction" you discover JUST how powerful the Law of Attraction is by real life examples.

Leo Babauta presents a great idea in Random Acts of Kindness: A Social Site I’d Love to See posted at Zen Habits.
This site would be a way to do nice things for other people, and get rewarded for it.

Mary Jaksch presents What Nelson Mandela Can Teach Us About Peace at GoodLife Zen.
Nelson Mandela is one of the secular saints of our times. His approach to peace can teach us how to resolve conflict in our lives. Here are 8 lessons on how to foster peace.

Todd Goldfarb presents From Caterpillar to Butterfly: A New Realm of Consciousness For Humanity at WeTheChange.
Todd shares this story with you and discusses how the caterpillar’s transformation is highly symbolic with what’s going on in our world today.

Be a part of the expression of celebration. Submit your article for the next submission deadline Thurs, 18 Sept 08


photo by Matthew Fang

Be a part of the expression of celebration. Submit your image blog/photo album for the next submission deadline Thursday, 18 Sept 08

Please be part of spreading the positive into the world around you! If you have enjoyed or benefited by any of these encouraging perspectives, please be sure to bookmark this carnival and our contributors’ pages in your favorite service—StumbleUpon, Digg, etc. (click below). Also, let your those dear to you, your co-workers, everyone around you know What's Right in the World! It makes the world better for us all.

Submit a single submission for our 21 Sept 08 edition (deadline, Thursday, 18 Sept) or contact me concerning suggestions you'd like to see added to or featured in the carnival.

Note: Even if you are not the blogger of the work you'd like to suggest, but have noticed someone's work that you think should be included in a Celebration of What's Right in the World, --empowering people and spirit--please point out the work to us.