tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68442661265458005082024-03-21T08:40:24.756-07:00Melina's MusingsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16254586043798504796noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6844266126545800508.post-60599841615587826652017-09-30T06:38:00.001-07:002017-09-30T06:38:55.672-07:00Grin and Bear It<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve always agreed with the adage, “When life gives you
lemons, make lemonade.” But what do you
do when life gives you a 500-pound black bear?
That’s exactly what happened to me on a hike in Pisgah National Forest
in North Carolina this summer.<o:p></o:p></div>
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My penchant for running and biking has recently taken a turn
toward hiking. I like how it combines
the physical outlet and exercise with the natural beauty of God’s country. I’ve climbed mountains and jogged forest
paths, traversed boulders and tree falls, but I recently became obsessed with the Appalachian Trail. I’m not sure the whole 2,100 mile, six-month
sojourn from Georgia to Maine is doable, but I just had to sample what this
Mother Nature of endurance tests was all about.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha3wUqyqA8Hd9ej9WkpISqmi9LQH2AnIhrFI0W86Fqi0aC5kD4dN9wb-18urN96Lfk2elVt9kiJYXAcYuTZLPry0L3mynlb4uzJnAZk4k04WLDsa2Nl5r4Zud1gp8ms65As1I8VNShvAI/s1600/20170603_090031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha3wUqyqA8Hd9ej9WkpISqmi9LQH2AnIhrFI0W86Fqi0aC5kD4dN9wb-18urN96Lfk2elVt9kiJYXAcYuTZLPry0L3mynlb4uzJnAZk4k04WLDsa2Nl5r4Zud1gp8ms65As1I8VNShvAI/s400/20170603_090031.jpg" width="400" /></a>So, off I drove to Asheville, NC, with its health-food
restaurants and bohemian lifestyle, and prepared for a day-trip on the AT. I rented a house I found on <a href="https://www.airbnb.com/" target="_blank">AirBnB</a> located
almost in Roaring Creek which, like a giant fountain and true to its name, put
me to bed and welcomed me at dawn each day with a perpetual rush of water.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The house was located just a few miles’ walk from a popular
ridge of the AT, straddling NC and Tennessee which I would hike more than 20
miles of in the days ahead. But I had decided
to take advantage of my visit and prepare for the longer hike by experiencing
some other shorter ones. That took me to
Cat Gut Loop, just inside Pisgah National Forest. The day was cool and cloudy but I figured to
complete the four-hour circuit long before the afternoon rains came.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The trail was muddy but I made good time, steadily climbing
toward the turn off to Iron Mountain.
The steeper ascent with the promise of an expansive vista lured me to a
date with destiny. After a half an hour
navigating mud and roots I reached the peak and began traversing the corridor
of rhododendrons and rain-soaked vegetation that blanketed the mountain top.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgHEB9T57fjE_q0t7rpEvg1ZpEbcR0P0YhcVnL5Ld2r-k5qvI1F7cnExDhUO1SP1sSA2KoNzOKjCQtQ3nNFGMJJdvID8N00coJpaPp-lKWgj8NiC3UvAxx4fOI94kiCI7_Yted-c5aK2I/s1600/Resized_IMG_20170524_174423-1-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="509" data-original-width="534" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgHEB9T57fjE_q0t7rpEvg1ZpEbcR0P0YhcVnL5Ld2r-k5qvI1F7cnExDhUO1SP1sSA2KoNzOKjCQtQ3nNFGMJJdvID8N00coJpaPp-lKWgj8NiC3UvAxx4fOI94kiCI7_Yted-c5aK2I/s200/Resized_IMG_20170524_174423-1-1.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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I was happily making my way to the overlook when I heard a
strange sound. It wasn’t anything I’d
ever heard before but it unnerved me.
Awakened from my blissful trance I took a few more steps and then heard
a louder, more obvious growl that drew my attention from the pathway into the
brush. There, a few feet away, was an enormous black bear, sitting amidst the
dark of the forest. I was surprised how
big it was and how calm I was. I
stopped, uttered “it’s a bear,” and began to slowly retreat. Once I could no longer see the leviathan I quickened my pace
down the path, hoping that the bear had chosen another route away that would
not intersect mine. As I neared the
bottom of the turnout the rains came.
Thunder and lightning ushered me quickly from the mountain as the path
soon became a stream of muddy water all the way to the car. I think getting soaked and wrestling to change in the car
briefly took my thoughts away from what I had just experienced.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis4N_XrLJBZ6MEl_xiwxkgBzTzyLgs5IKyAfdO3KHPYF0Dn3lYteMA1mTsjVifUm5Fhm565VP2Mlxq8uEExlEoth3DUuqJ3dzlSGApOlkh22Knub4A1LiXwD_7YjAi6OBp2vK5CFDPxEY/s1600/IMG_1975-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1050" data-original-width="1400" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis4N_XrLJBZ6MEl_xiwxkgBzTzyLgs5IKyAfdO3KHPYF0Dn3lYteMA1mTsjVifUm5Fhm565VP2Mlxq8uEExlEoth3DUuqJ3dzlSGApOlkh22Knub4A1LiXwD_7YjAi6OBp2vK5CFDPxEY/s320/IMG_1975-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I drove to Asheville and had a veggie pizza
which gave me time to think about my visit.
I would eventually see incredible waterfalls and mountains that beckoned
from afar, but it was the bear that made me smile. Somehow a morning which began with a simple
goal of walking in a large circle reminded once again that every day is a gift from God and we never know what lies just ahead, but if we tread
lightly and listen it promises to put a grin on our face.</div>
<o:p></o:p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16254586043798504796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6844266126545800508.post-49046238826382493442017-02-16T16:55:00.000-08:002017-02-20T15:26:20.665-08:00Finding Myself at Casa Kadam<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiag-nZ2AalQOjykuOuPqZhqALyqzl3H6OU0zfmH89WrLf5Sbr5lxBYdLNIGwZ2btknlOUYEV4hYIWo8lSmFcp2Gsfmzx-nOe0QwqDCfwd77C-YdF0NqLvoMTF14Vw1ZpJy8YP6HMWNu24/s1600/Road+to+Casa+Kadam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiag-nZ2AalQOjykuOuPqZhqALyqzl3H6OU0zfmH89WrLf5Sbr5lxBYdLNIGwZ2btknlOUYEV4hYIWo8lSmFcp2Gsfmzx-nOe0QwqDCfwd77C-YdF0NqLvoMTF14Vw1ZpJy8YP6HMWNu24/s400/Road+to+Casa+Kadam.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Up a
long and winding road, amidst rainforest mountains of central Puerto Rico,
is a hidden gem, a chakra at the heart of the island, <a href="http://puertoricorainforestretreat.com/casa-kadam.html" target="_blank">Casa Kadam</a>. Named as an
homage to Kadampa Buddhism, the practice of turning everyday life activities
into the path to enlightenment, this idyllic hideaway is the late-life child of
Sana and Papo, two expats who long ago realized what’s important in this world
– that nothing and everything is one and the same and that we all have the
capacity to be our own little Buddhists, bringing love, joy, and happiness to
everyone and, in turn, receiving the gift of the same for ourselves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXoMtcBzC3ig1mD_EYJZJuGGnDZFUkSoDD98f3tjI4TVQCO0ApHMoEjlEgjg4VKTRbqW3TcGG4ZpIan5AZLqeYvI_S6mOAwPSqEER0pj4RHfnpoJ87CnH2uQDMWIQN0TwmNNpFDmznDl0/s1600/Kadam+Casa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXoMtcBzC3ig1mD_EYJZJuGGnDZFUkSoDD98f3tjI4TVQCO0ApHMoEjlEgjg4VKTRbqW3TcGG4ZpIan5AZLqeYvI_S6mOAwPSqEER0pj4RHfnpoJ87CnH2uQDMWIQN0TwmNNpFDmznDl0/s320/Kadam+Casa.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpvOIfaqXex8gXMQZ4Qdv_eWv3d45a7hVR4qSPjR1X8650WBRHwS95KRTWUGDZDcGxRvOZWxC_KP9WBPEOnN9sgr5KwZTrB61afDEfG1QcbMURlOTADnWKcipEyEiETFJtDUc5ZzwhBsk/s1600/Barreal+Chapel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpvOIfaqXex8gXMQZ4Qdv_eWv3d45a7hVR4qSPjR1X8650WBRHwS95KRTWUGDZDcGxRvOZWxC_KP9WBPEOnN9sgr5KwZTrB61afDEfG1QcbMURlOTADnWKcipEyEiETFJtDUc5ZzwhBsk/s320/Barreal+Chapel.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Though
ensconced in jungle vegetation and virtually invisible until you’re almost at
its door, Casa Kadam unveiled itself to me after a week of detoxing physically
and mentally at the <a href="http://annwigmore.org/" target="_blank">Wigmore Institute</a>, my annual escape to reset and re-center.
I would spend days meandering undulating trails and crisscrossing streams,
which made me think how funny it is that we spend so much time planning when
and where and how to meditate, yet it’s often right in front of us. Whether it
was in the tiny, whitewashed Barreal Chapel of Peñuelas, or atop the misty 3,500
foot verdant spine of the Cordillera Range, or along the clear and cryo-cool
stream which helped me navigate the forest trails by day and serenaded me to
sleep each night, I felt as if I was always in touch with something larger than
life, well, this life anyway.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjH3ui_NqwXIpA9KrYokzv3Ovh_oiYWwSU_QbfLgS8ORUj6sx2gGJyGa3tIE3YjzPl33tSJDi0TH1qGY2KJ1Ax4936iLt-AE1N7I98o1H2hkaow6yoM49ItysO2HuQAvnRNF6-aTnv7RQ/s1600/Kadam+mermaid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjH3ui_NqwXIpA9KrYokzv3Ovh_oiYWwSU_QbfLgS8ORUj6sx2gGJyGa3tIE3YjzPl33tSJDi0TH1qGY2KJ1Ax4936iLt-AE1N7I98o1H2hkaow6yoM49ItysO2HuQAvnRNF6-aTnv7RQ/s640/Kadam+mermaid.jpg" width="353" /></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Sitting
in the cozy cabin that Papo built and Sana decorates with love, staring out at
the forest canopy, I thought it shouldn’t take leaving the comfort of home for
a couple of weeks to find the secret to happiness; that should be evident in
everything we do, every moment of every day.
Yet each night as I sat prana in the nearby pavilion, praying for world
peace and singing with my hosts, I couldn’t help but feel both as near and as
far from enlightenment as the brilliant scattershot of stars above the silhouette
of forest enveloping us. It was a yin
and yang unlike most of my epiphanies because I realized that my strong
Catholic roots could be nourished by Buddhist tenets just as richly as the fertile
soil of the steep hillsides feeds the coffee and cacao and fruit trees I
sampled freely each day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I had rediscovered
the secret to fulfillment: that by
emptying ourselves, in essence, giving every “thing” away – tangible and
ephemeral, coveted and ho-hum, flotsam and jetsam in the stream of our lives – we
gain Nirvana even if it’s just for a little while. Casa Kadam will forever be home to that
thought.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16254586043798504796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6844266126545800508.post-62411525506318775062016-07-17T17:09:00.001-07:002016-07-25T16:49:58.218-07:00The Maine Idea<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcgPP6oKqPxUXvuavxojtd_UU3epbL8JFgv-LQ3-RLvJsBSQ7svrsx_q3_x2cLIuAKFkZtfCTHuprlic6NUnTKCmszitClTk3g5w2kJYWTQJcGGHTLYawpgeAdA5Eys1XXvW0yn_n1G9U/s1600/IMG_0412.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcgPP6oKqPxUXvuavxojtd_UU3epbL8JFgv-LQ3-RLvJsBSQ7svrsx_q3_x2cLIuAKFkZtfCTHuprlic6NUnTKCmszitClTk3g5w2kJYWTQJcGGHTLYawpgeAdA5Eys1XXvW0yn_n1G9U/s320/IMG_0412.jpg" width="245" /></a></div>
It’s funny how life provides moments of wonder and fortuitous opportunities seemingly for no reason other than chance. My trip to Maine, specifically <a href="https://www.nps.gov/acad/index.htm" target="_blank">Acadia National Park</a> along the jagged, rock coastline, was punctuated with sun and rain, hot and cold temperatures, strenuous hikes and restful solitude. I chose from a bountiful menu of places to roam and sit amidst nature, sometimes at the top of it, while reflecting on my life which, at times, has mirrored the very yin and yang of this trip.<br />
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Unfortunately, or fortunately, however one looks at these things, two of the most scenic and challenging trails were closed, but only because peregrine falcons were nesting in the cliffs. It reminded me of the wren that has been tending to a nest on my patio: I couldn’t hike where I wanted in Maine just as I sometimes sit captive and captivated by the bird back home. The rain closed windows for longer hikes, yet I found breath-taking views on trails right in the back yard of the home I had rented adjacent to the park. Much like the gale-buffeted birch and aspen in Acadia, we have to flex in the wind so not to break.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNNwbb_-qdi969WLMKSbu0Sr6HlIyV2BArNms6kVoSCTWdV1uB16_Fqurw3T28S7Qogu8IHdqy7uvt8j3ap18SYRGnkvJ8jD9BAbbifZ2D-z-tvudNfA5rdis4D3Iw9KHMIbsXyBlroGc/s1600/Acadia+Peak+and+smile.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNNwbb_-qdi969WLMKSbu0Sr6HlIyV2BArNms6kVoSCTWdV1uB16_Fqurw3T28S7Qogu8IHdqy7uvt8j3ap18SYRGnkvJ8jD9BAbbifZ2D-z-tvudNfA5rdis4D3Iw9KHMIbsXyBlroGc/s320/Acadia+Peak+and+smile.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Yet there is no more evident realization that I need to appreciate the good times than when I returned home and fractured my shoulder falling on a trail run in North Park. I had clambered over boulders and rocky shorelines, ascended and descended uneven, precarious trails in Maine without event. Yet, on a level, dirt trail I have traveled innumerable times I stumbled over a little root and fell, putting me out of commission for weeks.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyDxatxvJiZi6XGlAUUku2QUYFZzLfvTT6uSg68zn-1mclwQAMPSzrhkoIwsaRWic0nm09Hflj1DalVMvPC1Cxy_zjDSMsCLkPzmQnxQBqc1uOOMGiIf_o6XDbPa_WGut1LUqWQfVG0Es/s1600/Acadia+beach.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyDxatxvJiZi6XGlAUUku2QUYFZzLfvTT6uSg68zn-1mclwQAMPSzrhkoIwsaRWic0nm09Hflj1DalVMvPC1Cxy_zjDSMsCLkPzmQnxQBqc1uOOMGiIf_o6XDbPa_WGut1LUqWQfVG0Es/s320/Acadia+beach.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
I’m frustrated by such a freak accident and I’m also forced to sit still while I heal – something I don’t do easily. However, I don’t have a choice, so I’m choosing to use this time for introspection and to plan for my next adventure. As I convalesce it’s evident that we aren’t in control of everything in our lives; in fact, I’m not sure we dictate anything without God’s approval. I do know that when life isn’t working out the way we planned, that’s an opportunity to focus on what really matters: gratitude for everything in our lives. I think I'll ponder that while watching the hatchling wrens grow up.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16254586043798504796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6844266126545800508.post-24251764792225101912016-07-06T11:13:00.000-07:002016-07-25T16:53:06.497-07:00A Peek at Mt. Washington<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNyQD9VGX3-obQ2dNyCVOq5QpkptuwyuEGsBtG5t-At22VPkQ68jRjEWi8gUHoQkM_ikWaJd9AYpgx4EbBzfpnF-_qNnE31LfqLPKt3rzHkkhFI5HGok0jKbXMBZ-GDLae24YLG9p4AK8/s1600/White+Mtns.+Washington+bowl+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNyQD9VGX3-obQ2dNyCVOq5QpkptuwyuEGsBtG5t-At22VPkQ68jRjEWi8gUHoQkM_ikWaJd9AYpgx4EbBzfpnF-_qNnE31LfqLPKt3rzHkkhFI5HGok0jKbXMBZ-GDLae24YLG9p4AK8/s400/White+Mtns.+Washington+bowl+%25282%2529.jpg" width="355" /></a>I like a challenge, especially when it’s something new and daunting. But when my intention to traverse Mt. Washington (the 6,288 foot crowning peak of the <a href="http://www.visitwhitemountains.com/attractions/white-mountains-national-forest" target="_blank">White Mountains range, NH</a>) was thwarted by snow melt and rain runoff near the top, I couldn’t help but feel disappointment.<br />
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I had climbed for hours, navigating a treacherous staircase of boulders and tree roots comprising <a href="http://www.northeasthikes.com/tuckerman-ravine-trail-hike-mt-washington/" target="_blank">Tuckerman Trail</a>. Several hikers wearing smiles passed me on the way down and I became more excited as the ridge line came into full view. A young family picnicked on some rocks; teenage boys recounted how they had skied the bowl just last month; and an older man, clad in wool overhauls and suspenders, slowly and deliberately continued to climb as I went by.<br />
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But like many endeavors worth pursuing I soon encountered struggles and barriers to achieving my goal. The sunny day grew cloudy and I passed a sign and first aid caches that warned of the dangers ahead, including the threat of injury and even death. The wind picked up, but that was nothing compared to the steady stream of icy water sharing the trail, which made climbing the steep, stone stairs far more risky than the reward high above. So, I stubbornly stopped. More than a mile up I could only marvel at the beauty of the massive mountain top, a constant breeze whispering, “It’s okay. The peak isn’t the prize.”<br />
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Over the next week I conquered several other trails and peaks and now realize that it was the trek, the time alone on a magical journey, which touched me. Seeing people amidst such natural splendor, at peace and harmony with the world, reminded me that God is always there to guide us no matter what path we take. Sure, I was disappointed about missing out on that peak, but in life as in travel, the road to success is not measured by how far you go or climb but, rather, by the stops along the way. <br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16254586043798504796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6844266126545800508.post-3167759343337068972016-05-10T14:21:00.000-07:002016-07-17T17:18:20.184-07:00Wigmore Once MoreIt's Sunday morning in Aguada, Puerto Rico when I see that a new group of students has just arrived at <a href="http://annwigmore.org/" target="_blank">Ann Wigmore Natural Institute</a>. A few are eager to be here, others a bit apprehensive of what to expect, but everyone, even those with a guarded heart, is ready to take those first few steps of their journey in the living foods lifestyle.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiypDeExIjVTAF4JBrG2syoKTWO9ZCoaFMK7lp9kxUv6n1FCNb52OmE7g54Z615O-0zRfvHOQ6d-vZMsFPRoIhyywFIKJUotpSV9E71b22qgV_FwxKYFWKHvCMlqF6SYomdRD4p2xrmofU/s1600/Waves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiypDeExIjVTAF4JBrG2syoKTWO9ZCoaFMK7lp9kxUv6n1FCNb52OmE7g54Z615O-0zRfvHOQ6d-vZMsFPRoIhyywFIKJUotpSV9E71b22qgV_FwxKYFWKHvCMlqF6SYomdRD4p2xrmofU/s320/Waves.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I have been to Wigmore on several occasions and that afternoon I decided to take a stroll on the beautiful beaches nearby. The waves were crashing onto the shore, but for some reason I became entranced with the calm, peaceful water slowly sweeping back into the ocean, taking with it some beautiful shells and stones resembling polished glass of all shapes and sizes that were lying on the shore.<br />
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This juxtaposition of power and peace was a reminder of the many students who had come through the program over the years, including myself, full of angst and stress, attempting to stay afloat through the peaks and troughs of our everyday lives. Yet, while we are here we build relationships, eat energy soup, mediate, and open our minds and souls to each other. We arrive at the institute like so many undulating waves, varying in intensity and duration. But by the end of the second week we are relaxed, laughing and occasionally shedding a tear of joy, while glowing with life-affirming energy. All of the waves somehow flow into one placid sea of love and contentment.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguxWUwWGDFx_YAMAQ4NSvtK4GGkbAGECSDoGea4B_Qxplb_5lBm-SWHN09XtYnidkkBGuEGFb7tni1DhyphenhyphenSrfvQIUnc6Dafw027MZ67tI1EVvfGXhM1ZkwrIoT9tjCU9P79sX-OWDJp0-0/s1600/SubstandardFullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguxWUwWGDFx_YAMAQ4NSvtK4GGkbAGECSDoGea4B_Qxplb_5lBm-SWHN09XtYnidkkBGuEGFb7tni1DhyphenhyphenSrfvQIUnc6Dafw027MZ67tI1EVvfGXhM1ZkwrIoT9tjCU9P79sX-OWDJp0-0/s320/SubstandardFullSizeRender.jpg" width="320" /></a>As we depart from Puerto Rico it’s as if we are swept back into the ocean of our own lives with peace and calmness, taking with us precious gems of rejuvenation, energy, and excitement. Each of us embodies an undercurrent of a healthy lifestyle – in body, mind and soul – and we can’t wait to share it with the rest of the world with an open, warm heart.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16254586043798504796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6844266126545800508.post-86969201575149669312016-02-10T16:23:00.001-08:002016-07-25T16:54:00.914-07:00Minister Creek Revelation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnntpUg3yeVKL7zYz5XZiUS3qJ30_i6d5Wd9aXQXy2sId5VkhJba4rowc1CmVvTCGlLmEajvAMAKiAszg_pk2f5JasyBSVzGUXc1fJTVxNdbgBCxaQC-xk6LkGcA-V5dawu8a4za5Z2eA/s1600/IMG_2086.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnntpUg3yeVKL7zYz5XZiUS3qJ30_i6d5Wd9aXQXy2sId5VkhJba4rowc1CmVvTCGlLmEajvAMAKiAszg_pk2f5JasyBSVzGUXc1fJTVxNdbgBCxaQC-xk6LkGcA-V5dawu8a4za5Z2eA/s400/IMG_2086.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Ash Wednesday is a stark reminder that we are only here for
a short while before returning to the Earth from which we came. I’m being reminded more every day as my body changes
and I recall things I used to be able to do that my time is running out, at
least my time here anyway.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Over the past weekend some friends provided an antidote to
my malaise by inviting me to cabins in <a href="http://www.fs.usda.gov/allegheny" target="_blank">Allegheny National Forest</a>, a huge swath
of wilderness bordering New York State without phone service and paved
roads. I spent the days hiking and
nights around the campfire, soul-searching amidst light conversation and alternating
feelings of hot and cold as I shifted position near the dancing flames.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It wasn’t until I lifted my gaze from the barely visible
path back to my cabin that I could see a plethora of stars dotting the indigo sky,
hanging like Christmas lights in the trees along the horizon. All the celestial beauty and magnificence had
been obscured by ambient light from the fire and much like my own Existential dilemma
I couldn’t see the light through the darkness.
Now the black-and-white heavens appeared both solemn and exhilarating,
juxtaposed like alpha and omega, yin and yang, life and death. And isn’t that the essence of our lives, paradoxes
of what we see and what we can’t; what we want and what we have; what we do and
what we don’t?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_7gOgcCaSwR2EcAkmSuWjyYo3OROvGiZXKyy69BkBBHREx26p-vpcsGhYk_tJlZZLbVOznAdK1VKJqdtRnvX70A9lakere4EK1teCCcJLv9-LNFoWTVw1U0Rp309yLbJwE8WQ5-tJHhI/s1600/FullSizeRender+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_7gOgcCaSwR2EcAkmSuWjyYo3OROvGiZXKyy69BkBBHREx26p-vpcsGhYk_tJlZZLbVOznAdK1VKJqdtRnvX70A9lakere4EK1teCCcJLv9-LNFoWTVw1U0Rp309yLbJwE8WQ5-tJHhI/s400/FullSizeRender+%25282%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a>I hiked all the next day around <a href="https://alltrails.com/trail/us/pennsylvania/minister-creek-trail" target="_blank">Minister Creek <span style="color: black;">and nearby mountains</span> </a>with a new-found zest and sense of oneness with the world again. With Valentine’s Day on the horizon, I got to
wondering what the loves of my life are:
God, family, nature, running, helping others and, oh yeah, myself. Maybe this weekend you can ask yourself, How’s my love
life? I hope it’s full of vistas, stars and revelations of your own.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16254586043798504796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6844266126545800508.post-31225843589701175092016-01-03T16:36:00.000-08:002016-01-03T16:36:05.031-08:00Time to Fly<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdkb5SOht6jxq-V9ejme6-KRKu1tkw_gpgR0z-c6La_GD20HBZvDvVAabW-rmMvJ9oiqfsP064JCZsZ_hGYiX8XwdUNOYYnYGnzRRPwdhfWl2R1x5uPpzdRSYm_dYScGhnp3z8S-4z2E8/s1600/IMG_2045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdkb5SOht6jxq-V9ejme6-KRKu1tkw_gpgR0z-c6La_GD20HBZvDvVAabW-rmMvJ9oiqfsP064JCZsZ_hGYiX8XwdUNOYYnYGnzRRPwdhfWl2R1x5uPpzdRSYm_dYScGhnp3z8S-4z2E8/s320/IMG_2045.jpg" width="147" /></a>The talons of winter are finally reaching deep into western Pennsylvania. Low temperatures and cold winds tend to hasten our step, ironically at a time of year when we should remain still. The new year reminds us that we have so much to do and little time to do it, yet we are frenzied, often confused about what to change and what to keep the same.<br />
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I set out for the woods and a leisurely hike to hopefully inspire me. I stopped to listen to the silence and view scenery that I’d seen before but which didn’t look quite the same. Eventually I was moved to strike an eagle pose along the river, a natural reminder that we cannot reach new heights without spreading our wings. Sure, staying tucked in a familiar manner is safe and warm, but there are no guarantees that this will lead to a satisfying life or even what we want.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhn337lNU2x0wvr5gyAVee0Jz8S4SwcR1QSWm0ik0hWOHLIv3yd7aHtVV73FYo80JrakyOqbeo3vkyYxGDlRiIWnj5TlsVlYyzmG4IrjZ9bKN75DtqClXeqesUhuRR4e3KR4YqFx2KisA/s1600/IMG_2042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhn337lNU2x0wvr5gyAVee0Jz8S4SwcR1QSWm0ik0hWOHLIv3yd7aHtVV73FYo80JrakyOqbeo3vkyYxGDlRiIWnj5TlsVlYyzmG4IrjZ9bKN75DtqClXeqesUhuRR4e3KR4YqFx2KisA/s320/IMG_2042.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
The problem is it’s difficult to let go when we’re comfortable … even if the very things we covet aren’t necessarily good for us. But consider this little known fact: Eagles often plunge into the water to catch fish. Once captured, though, the prey becomes a burden (dare I say albatross?) that doesn’t allow the great bird to fly. So the eagle must let go and remain hungry or hang on and swim – yes, eagles can swim using their wings as feathery oars – hoping to reach shore and savor the fruits of labor.<br />
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I think we've all had to choose between maintaining the <i>status quo</i> or going for it. I hope the calendar change will see you soaring high and taking healthy risks that get you what you want. THAT would be a happy new year indeed!<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16254586043798504796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6844266126545800508.post-61169411602858398572015-12-13T13:45:00.003-08:002015-12-15T20:04:50.994-08:00Climb Every Mountain<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7dXMuZAUTyjmVXL9ZWPVUMlwne11WEYI-NU0m_hbZxzhX6tvwF-MJjIrG9UWxfiS0P1VGb_zoVpwvKPAXmaBrk0-or_uEypzTkcipnXTUjhokilVX5tjqqdF0oeHWtLLZvix2__zwU4g/s1600/IMG_2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7dXMuZAUTyjmVXL9ZWPVUMlwne11WEYI-NU0m_hbZxzhX6tvwF-MJjIrG9UWxfiS0P1VGb_zoVpwvKPAXmaBrk0-or_uEypzTkcipnXTUjhokilVX5tjqqdF0oeHWtLLZvix2__zwU4g/s320/IMG_2011.jpg" width="320" /></a>I recently took advantage of the unseasonably warm weather and headed to Berkeley Springs, West Virginia. It was near Berkeley that I discovered <a href="http://www.cacaponresort.com/" target="_blank">Cacapon State Park</a>, which lies within the Appalachian Mountains just a few miles from the town famous for its mineral springs and baths.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt387Ip3YVJAj3w-kZxBr6MLmzeI7gk2VeqiWwFA5cBoWsBLt2wG7_kuZ07nXT5aHI0y8bjBnVR2ZAoHU3a__MX7uYlS3cs3n61EWbXVv-S8IvpmyyTkYA_mECKRGIZ85ahmir30r4jps/s1600/IMG_1983.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt387Ip3YVJAj3w-kZxBr6MLmzeI7gk2VeqiWwFA5cBoWsBLt2wG7_kuZ07nXT5aHI0y8bjBnVR2ZAoHU3a__MX7uYlS3cs3n61EWbXVv-S8IvpmyyTkYA_mECKRGIZ85ahmir30r4jps/s320/IMG_1983.jpg" width="297" /></a><br />
On a perfect morning I set out on an extensive hike and realized we all have mountains to climb every day, don't we? Disappointment, hurt, pain, discouragement, frustration, worries, fear of failing, fear of succeeding, and so on. Sure, climbing that mountain is never easy. It can take your breath away, literally, and make you think twice if it's worth the trouble. But every precarious, difficult step will bring you closer to the top and the realization that the only reward for taking the easy way in life is that it's easy.<br />
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So when you push through the pain and get to the top, take a deep breath, thank the Lord for guiding you and<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZdVBMItQIedCLL8HB_0C73bA-Skccuo5jUmcpeBEa8bBiPpWo6iYI-qunXCBVk59whg7ra7ffjVCo9A0rbYSXXjcYOsqchnmWgy62gg-a1CaK5AMhjjl2NgIWIifUe2f2iGnuT0RSRsE/s1600/IMG_1987.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZdVBMItQIedCLL8HB_0C73bA-Skccuo5jUmcpeBEa8bBiPpWo6iYI-qunXCBVk59whg7ra7ffjVCo9A0rbYSXXjcYOsqchnmWgy62gg-a1CaK5AMhjjl2NgIWIifUe2f2iGnuT0RSRsE/s320/IMG_1987.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
dance all the way down the other side. By staying the course you will gain rewards that you could never imagine possible: success, happiness, self-fulfillment, self-love and love of others, peace, joy, hope and faith.<br />
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The weather is certain to turn cold and we'll all struggle to maintain a positive attitude when the days are perpetually grey. But if you recognize how short our time is here and how small our problems really are, even the greatest challenge is manageable. We should thank God for giving us the strength to persevere and climb mountains every day. To that I say Amen and Merry Christmas!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16254586043798504796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6844266126545800508.post-35514175756345400342015-09-18T20:02:00.000-07:002015-09-19T13:06:00.043-07:00New York State of Mind<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEJ3pxvv5zxQbRSZShGRbql6FRVrspU3_j8PRn5t0klRjECWL24pTSsgx90fg_Gen8uVnU5Gz5-y9pppU9HADR9BUfYagZvyZktb2M-RmJZCLZZH1-qlrM3Hz124RiFwrbnwZV1C1U45Y/s1600/IMG_1812.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEJ3pxvv5zxQbRSZShGRbql6FRVrspU3_j8PRn5t0klRjECWL24pTSsgx90fg_Gen8uVnU5Gz5-y9pppU9HADR9BUfYagZvyZktb2M-RmJZCLZZH1-qlrM3Hz124RiFwrbnwZV1C1U45Y/s320/IMG_1812.jpg" width="320" /></a>I had big plans last weekend. I would be hiking <a href="http://nysparks.com/parks/79/details.aspx" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Letchworth Falls</span></a>, the “Grand Canyon of the East,” a massive gorge carved out by the Genesee River in western New York. Upon arriving Friday the sun shone brightly on a wedding rehearsal as hot air balloons skimmed along the slow moving current above the rain-fed falls. I took a quick tour of the park area and mapped a plan in my mind for the next day. Would I do the 26-mile east ridge or several shorter trails, one of which crossed over a stone bridge at the lower falls? Would I eat at the Glen Iris Inn or cook atop the fire pit at<span style="color: blue;"> <a href="https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/7025849" target="_blank">Cabin Creek</a> </span>where I was staying on 100-acres of verdant forest? These were the questions that I pondered while drifting off to sleep that night wearing a smile.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAaBsqlJzRA4f6qlre6oe-b3w19UcQh_g9b2dJ6upyJDSAx3TbtOAzACjFYM0dAw22dtJ1kaKPQ3-C__rteBlJpI0u1fdVzJMVK_s2Nk3r9rg2OJpFefhVC8J2ZV5rTfWhslK7XeDzPbM/s1600/IMG_1805.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAaBsqlJzRA4f6qlre6oe-b3w19UcQh_g9b2dJ6upyJDSAx3TbtOAzACjFYM0dAw22dtJ1kaKPQ3-C__rteBlJpI0u1fdVzJMVK_s2Nk3r9rg2OJpFefhVC8J2ZV5rTfWhslK7XeDzPbM/s320/IMG_1805.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
At 4:00 am I heard the first raindrops on the tin roof porch and I fell back to sleep contentedly enjoying the staccato drumming. I don’t recall what time it was when I next awoke, but the once calming rain had taken on a different tone, an angry beat reserved for nasty downpours. Through the large, triangular windows in my room I could see it was still dark, the kind of dark that you can peer into and never really determine what it is beyond the blackness, and I wondered what the day would bring. I had intermittent phone coverage at best and couldn’t see what the weather was going to be, but I was confident the weekend wouldn’t be a washout. Boy, was I wrong. The rain continued its assault on the roof, sometimes growing in such intensity that I wondered if some New York giant was dumping huge buckets of water from above. I made breakfast and resigned myself to get dressed and be ready for when the rain would abate, but that time never came. It rained all day and into the night, never relenting even to a drizzle that I could get a quick run in.<br />
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The rain continued Sunday morning and I packed and headed for home, somewhat disappointed in all I missed. But as I reflected on my time in the cabin – napping, snacking on healthy foods, and reading without technology or distractions like laundry and chores that are often the consolation of rainy days at home – I realized that the rainout was a gift. That the gloomy grey and stark darkness had forced me to focus inward, finding a beauty more grand than any waterfall or tree line, fancy meal or cookout. What I learned is that sometimes life changes your plans, and if you listen closely (whether it’s to raindrops on a roof or to the beat of your heart) you’ll find that the change is perfect in every way.<br />
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I had big plans last weekend ... and God laughed. Fortunately, so can I.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16254586043798504796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6844266126545800508.post-2350712942932412872015-08-08T10:30:00.001-07:002015-08-08T10:30:44.856-07:00Somewhere, Over the Mountains<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">They
say home is where the heart is, which, after recently visiting my birth place,
Pizzoferrato, Italy, I truly believe.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">
</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But I also know that after being back </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">“</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">home,</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">”</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> where I had laughed and played and
enjoyed life as a little girl of seven, it’s also a part of my soul.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2x1MRzWqy27vYWoZ4Wyca6ut3h9uIOkN6qbY_x-aq631NWbifUGHKqwnmshaVNSL8CjxBlaJbR308yBpjXQA85BTA5rfUG7zmAsUiAXH2HkFjWIS7p142eDn0HO0JFo_Rqy9QFL66-yI/s1600/Pizzoferrato.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2x1MRzWqy27vYWoZ4Wyca6ut3h9uIOkN6qbY_x-aq631NWbifUGHKqwnmshaVNSL8CjxBlaJbR308yBpjXQA85BTA5rfUG7zmAsUiAXH2HkFjWIS7p142eDn0HO0JFo_Rqy9QFL66-yI/s320/Pizzoferrato.jpg" width="311" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">No
sooner had I arrived in Pizzoferrato, after a long transatlantic flight and
meandering drive from Rome, I felt a familiar welling in my heart. The sights of villages along the way sent
butterflies fluttering in my stomach, fueling my anticipation so much so that even
an afternoon rain couldn’t douse my joy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Relatives
greeted us at the airport and everywhere thereafter it seemed. I reunited with cousins and my father’s
family members and lifelong friends, easily conversing in Italian while
breaking bread and imbibing wine. I was walking streets that seemingly knew my shoe size, feeling the same warm, inviting sun that had shone
on me half a century ago. It was almost as if I could smell the food and hear the joy of family feasts at holidays past.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When
I came upon my grandparent’s home, a place where I lived most of my young life,
I fell as silent as the rain upon the grass.
The words of my grandfather echoed like distant thunder from the valley
below. “Melina, over the mountains is
America.”</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUgLHMr3pJCiM4paUCLYgNW7HMprRPbz7tW7zbAItO61cKgp6CK0mf41ISDgD5V0R-dHddiJADxWE0TgCb0peoY_zxKz9OuyM1bG4ujXTRlewLiklZXwnJ66P1jbsAP-1UsGjFxd1gihw/s1600/IMG_1681+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUgLHMr3pJCiM4paUCLYgNW7HMprRPbz7tW7zbAItO61cKgp6CK0mf41ISDgD5V0R-dHddiJADxWE0TgCb0peoY_zxKz9OuyM1bG4ujXTRlewLiklZXwnJ66P1jbsAP-1UsGjFxd1gihw/s320/IMG_1681+%25282%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Years later, when I eventually moved to
Pittsburgh, poor and unable to speak English, my father said that Italy, the
place I loved and so desired to return, was just over the hills near our
Oakland home. I find as much solace and
peace in their reassuring words now as I did then. </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Somewhere,
over the mountains ….</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Even though I so
enjoyed this trip, perhaps my last to Italy with my parents, I realize I have another
home with family and friends of the heart in the United States.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But for one more time, Pizzoferrato is home
as I remember it, as my heart has always felt it, as I will always cherish it
in my soul.</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16254586043798504796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6844266126545800508.post-87909180714470464782015-07-28T19:10:00.000-07:002015-07-28T19:10:17.715-07:00Food Drive<div class="MsoNormal">
Main Squeeze Pgh is ready to roll, literally. I'm unveiling a mobile cafe that fulfills a lifelong goal of bringing tasty and healthy food to the masses. We will offer a menu that
features exotic wraps, nourishing salads, and invigorating juices, while bringing
it to a parking space near you.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyvfGZZIaCN5uac0i-ND-49qURhFAsXFdUhwA2H-zvzIALI95HOHgoDPULztQZxWn6M4BPzFaXjpdcmGlC90a2vV2dTqnNt1JPQ0lvsS5oVwmumqqX3iKULZFv25mo8MD74dsPIMs1iyc/s1600/Squeezetruck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
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Everyone knows I love to educate people on eating healthier, teaching them how to shop and prepare wholesome meals. Well, I'm taking my show on the road, so to speak. I'm going to incorporate my philosophy of healthy living into this unique food truck. I can't wait to feed customers all around Pittsburgh with
quality food that they may not otherwise get to eat. I always enjoyed operating Aviva Brick Oven, but we’re going to surprise people with a host of healthy menu items that taste good too. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyvfGZZIaCN5uac0i-ND-49qURhFAsXFdUhwA2H-zvzIALI95HOHgoDPULztQZxWn6M4BPzFaXjpdcmGlC90a2vV2dTqnNt1JPQ0lvsS5oVwmumqqX3iKULZFv25mo8MD74dsPIMs1iyc/s1600/Squeezetruck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyvfGZZIaCN5uac0i-ND-49qURhFAsXFdUhwA2H-zvzIALI95HOHgoDPULztQZxWn6M4BPzFaXjpdcmGlC90a2vV2dTqnNt1JPQ0lvsS5oVwmumqqX3iKULZFv25mo8MD74dsPIMs1iyc/s320/Squeezetruck.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I’ve enjoyed cooking all my life and especially for those interested
in bettering themselves. This is a dream
come true for me, and as a healthy alternative to fast food I hope our customers will be saying the same thing. So keep an eye on the road
for our unmistakable wheat grass design and a prayer in your heart as we get this venture up and running. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16254586043798504796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6844266126545800508.post-30904039834742525932015-06-26T09:38:00.001-07:002015-06-26T09:38:45.600-07:00Ocean Notions<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZoZj-pBK7zwVerAEv1w3mi51aCxmIAlmv96nFl_pxPsiJZhh6goHg4KvPiFTy8WmXhhJlRsx0EQiWKFtEkQGIKHYAEYy3LYIXqu_A16a5WdjRhqE5pNyBTWUziKUbL_ijrAh7HZtORDU/s1600/IMG_1521+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZoZj-pBK7zwVerAEv1w3mi51aCxmIAlmv96nFl_pxPsiJZhh6goHg4KvPiFTy8WmXhhJlRsx0EQiWKFtEkQGIKHYAEYy3LYIXqu_A16a5WdjRhqE5pNyBTWUziKUbL_ijrAh7HZtORDU/s320/IMG_1521+%25281%2529.jpg" width="253" /></a>I’m not a beach person.
Lying in the scorching sun for hours at the summer solstice – even with
emerald waters and mesmerizing surf – isn’t at the top of my travel wish
list. So why post about it? I guess there’s something magical about feeling small
at the edge of such a great blue expanse that comprises most of this planet; that, and accompanying my precious family to the friendly
beaches of Ocean City, NJ, which filled my heart with happiness and hope.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Hope that my grandchildren will grow and make the world a
better place. Hope that my mother, who
has sacrificed for all of us for so many years, continues to bring happiness to
her lineage. Hope that my daughter, who
just landed a good job, will follow in the matriarchal footsteps left before
her like so many footprints in the sand.<o:p></o:p></div>
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For me, this was just another opportunity to let my mind
drift to creative ways of helping others have hope.
The ebb and flow of the tide and ceaseless surf reminded me that life
continues with or without us. We are often
pushed and pulled by currents beyond our control. Yet, if we remain conscious and aware of our
destination and the beauty each day presents, the waves become a little less
ominous; the distant horizon a little clearer; and the notion that God helps
keep us afloat an absolute.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0IWS4oglQSxtMZRL42ZeqEWwDeNx0OCDtg6p-1NBARN7N8LmisT0a0XgZaMhQ-bkUibAHBJP7p0JGOS9TRBQAIWoq41a_oS4dmMCC7Wsbv2a0lj6DTFjPGoG9OlzuxoYAFt02Oafp9U4/s1600/IMG_1527+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0IWS4oglQSxtMZRL42ZeqEWwDeNx0OCDtg6p-1NBARN7N8LmisT0a0XgZaMhQ-bkUibAHBJP7p0JGOS9TRBQAIWoq41a_oS4dmMCC7Wsbv2a0lj6DTFjPGoG9OlzuxoYAFt02Oafp9U4/s320/IMG_1527+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a>So I’ll put my mermaid flippers away and return to mainland
back home. I’m not sure the next time I’ll
be on the beach – perhaps Wigmore Institute in the winter? – but in the
meantime I’ll try to remember the healing salt air, the calming surf, and the
joy and laughter of family full of life and love.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16254586043798504796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6844266126545800508.post-81812056356296118032015-06-21T14:30:00.000-07:002015-06-21T14:30:57.712-07:00Sun n Fun n FoodI just found out that Allegheny County Parks is sponsoring two of my wellness <a href="https://online.activenetwork.com/alleghenycounty/Activities/ActivitiesAdvSearch.asp" style="color: blue;" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">workshops</span></a>!<span style="color: blue;"> </span>In late July and August I will be presenting on how to shop health-smart and then how to prepare nourishing meals at two different workshop sessions in North Park. I've prayed and dreamed of expanding what I've already been able to accomplish with my business, <a href="http://www.onebodywonlife.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">One Body Won Life</span></a>, and now it's becoming a reality.<br />
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<a href="http://static.wixstatic.com/media/27273e_6e8142920cd04b94a558fa486a63a40d.jpg_srz_p_709_228_75_22_0.50_1.20_0.00_jpg_srz" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="http://static.wixstatic.com/media/27273e_6e8142920cd04b94a558fa486a63a40d.jpg_srz_p_709_228_75_22_0.50_1.20_0.00_jpg_srz" height="128" width="400" /></a><br />
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I'm excited and encouraged that the word on wholesome foods will be available to so many people. For some time this has been a personal goal and with the help of family and friends I'll be doing what I believe I've always been meant to do. I get to help people learn to help themselves live more satisfying, rewarding lives while, at the same time, realizing my own lifelong dream.</div>
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I'm hoping this is just the start of something big, because I'm also launching a health-conscious food truck called Main Squeeze Pgh. This alternative to the standard "fast food" truck will offer a menu featuring exotic wraps, nourishing salads, and invigorating juices. Look for us at local events like Hartwood Acres, county parks, and on this blog for more about summer fun with food. <i>Grazie</i>.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16254586043798504796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6844266126545800508.post-9035649882791933002015-06-21T14:28:00.001-07:002015-06-21T14:39:09.782-07:00Gallivanting in Gallitzin<div class="MsoNormal">
Another foray into the wilderness in May took me to the
top of Rager Mountain, the pinnacle of <a href="http://www.dcnr.state.pa.us/forestry/stateforests/gallitzin/index.htm" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Gallitzin State Forest</span></a>. Located only a few miles from Johnstown, PA, it’s
a world away from the daily distractions in life. For hours I hiked near tall trees, waterfalls
and caves that are home to black bears, which fortunately I did not encounter.
Instead, it was if I became entranced by the simplicity of the wilderness
again, focusing on the surroundings like a natural deep-breathing exercise.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I felt serenely rooted in nature and compelled to combine my
two loves, yoga and hiking, while striking a tree pose among the mature stands
of oaks and leftover boulders from the Ice Age. It is here that my mind becomes
clear and I dream about ways to help people live more satisfying and rewarding
lives.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It seems my life has turned toward, dare I say <i>returned</i>, to
nature? Every few weeks I find myself
hiking and wandering – wondering – while taking in breath-affirming
beauty. I don’t know exactly where each
trail will take me, but I find traversing mountains and hopping streams a
metaphor for this time in my life.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ll continue to return to the wild as a humble reminder of
my own mortality and for inspiration to live every day for God and others who I
may be able to help find their own nirvana.
Namaste.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16254586043798504796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6844266126545800508.post-50060505424042679502015-06-07T15:56:00.000-07:002015-09-21T16:18:56.731-07:00Linn Run, Run<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve been getting back to nature lately … and if it wasn’t
so beautiful and serene here I would have been tempted to run. But what makes the forest and all its
grandeur so special is that I can slow down; in fact, Mother Nature requires
it. Be still and listen, She says. Unplug and breathe. Be.
And why not? Mother’s Day is
tomorrow.</div>
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Recently I was introduced to a hidden gem in the Laurel
Highlands just an hour from Pittsburgh – <a href="http://www.dcnr.state.pa.us/stateparks/findapark/linnrun/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Linn Run State Park</span></a>. As a northern spine of the Appalachian
Mountains, Linn Run offers miles of hiking and biking trails along streams and
rolling ridges. One afternoon I casually
strolled down Fish Run Trail and the next morning climbed 2,000 feet navigating
Grove Run Trail as it meanders up and down the verdant hills and valleys.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwOH_mh4jTKqtl8S9sYZOne-m39hHO76wDkLTTmuTjekONak1U9p7AfHRxiXkWD4QhMx42FA1ZsjSctQXF1LLwrbv8P5OHfdS5nv3agaCiShBAUoOC05G7ofZbvop5Regn7zRQpJVuXZc/s1600/Linn+Run+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwOH_mh4jTKqtl8S9sYZOne-m39hHO76wDkLTTmuTjekONak1U9p7AfHRxiXkWD4QhMx42FA1ZsjSctQXF1LLwrbv8P5OHfdS5nv3agaCiShBAUoOC05G7ofZbvop5Regn7zRQpJVuXZc/s400/Linn+Run+1.jpg" width="367" /></a></div>
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Wildflowers and bird life accentuated the scenery when I
could bring myself to look away from the creeks and streams crisscrossing the
hillsides. The sun fought to break
through the forest canopy so it was comfy for an 80-degree day; a cool breeze
helped too. I came out of my trance just
in time to step over a 4-foot black snake sunning on the trail. Somehow even that didn’t bother me.</div>
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At various times I had to sit and contemplate my place in
all this beauty. I felt small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things,
but I also felt at home. I was moved to
tears by how comfortable and welcome this place makes me feel. I planned to bike and run some of the country
roads and maybe rent one of the many cabins nearby so I could experience even
more of what nature has to offer.
Wouldn’t mom want it that way?</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16254586043798504796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6844266126545800508.post-41283001441003272222015-05-07T17:01:00.000-07:002015-05-07T17:01:00.402-07:00Totally My Yoga<div class="MsoNormal">
I love yoga. The stillness. The breathing. The mindful presence. You might say that hot yoga with cool instruction is the ultimate nexus of mind, body and soul. At <a href="http://www.totallyyoga.us/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Totally Yoga</span></a> on Babcock Boulevard I get the feeling, literally, that owner Diane Regan’s philosophy filters through every instructor’s thoughts, words, and mindful actions. It's almost as if Diane has adopted a family of practitioners who exhibit her own passion in every session, every asana, every prana.</div>
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The instructors are, in reality, our social support as we practice the age-old art of exercise and healing. They embody the respect and love that the owner has for this ancient practice and achieve a flow that sweeps us gently away. In essence, she acts as a modest guru, catalyst to a group of like-minded instructors who impart yoga as it is meant to be: still, mindful, and alive with one collective breath. Namaste.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16254586043798504796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6844266126545800508.post-44396430158728942152015-04-24T17:49:00.000-07:002015-09-26T07:44:22.453-07:00Puerto Rico: Where Less is Wigmore<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaDrQTc1qtsNRT-886xmLWnUF6ctF2de0E9dnA7XgXKSlHfgDka4_EMi7tOzp5S5j1UH3A-SIr6YWfKs-mK65cf1aEjJXuKehFLKOH47axe84GzRW_lGPGVsz2iqxALv-MGpvqPmkOE70/s1600/093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaDrQTc1qtsNRT-886xmLWnUF6ctF2de0E9dnA7XgXKSlHfgDka4_EMi7tOzp5S5j1UH3A-SIr6YWfKs-mK65cf1aEjJXuKehFLKOH47axe84GzRW_lGPGVsz2iqxALv-MGpvqPmkOE70/s1600/093.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
All the talk about social support at the Centered In summit reminded me of a recent visit to the <a href="http://www.annwigmore.org/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Ann Wigmore Institute</span></a>, a close-knit community of like-minded practitioners located in the western reaches of Puerto Rico. The town of Aguada is, ironically, one of the eastern-most points of the U.S., the very same U.S. I went there to get away from. I needed to escape the trials and stressors in my life and to soul-search and dream about my future, a life that I hoped would embody the very regimen and practices Ann Wigmore espoused six decades ago: rebuild, rejuvenate, reconnect.<br />
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Sunshine and rain, yin and yang, depletion and restoration were the themes over my two-week hiatus. A gentle clang of a brass bell started each day, followed by a regimen of colonic irrigation and massages and yoga and heady conversation with cohorts from around the world who became my social support, and I, theirs.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3zZ-wqLczbpzlFl9PYottYwSnRom0fCPcmFQ3fyJKhMc5DtmxF38lWZloq_3pByrWxUT4xFMFwSm0L_fbmihmVa6Tx0QMlcDu2UJFqBICeCki-BzoFKd8-Cu9Rv9lg2ypU3y9lMa8tWs/s1600/090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3zZ-wqLczbpzlFl9PYottYwSnRom0fCPcmFQ3fyJKhMc5DtmxF38lWZloq_3pByrWxUT4xFMFwSm0L_fbmihmVa6Tx0QMlcDu2UJFqBICeCki-BzoFKd8-Cu9Rv9lg2ypU3y9lMa8tWs/s1600/090.JPG" width="239" /></a>Each day we were reminded by the constant spinning mechanism of the wheat grass extractor of the very essence of Ann Wigmore’s philosophy: the cleansing power of wheat grass would be the catalyst of our rebirth with every sip; our daily interactions the social support necessary to help us stretch and grow.<o:p></o:p><br />
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No make-up, days filled with classes and glasses of wheat grass, sunshine and breezes nudged me gently back to my center. From a lazy hammock on the deck of my bungalow I could hear the perpetual wind and surf as I was growing stronger. Green soup, sprouts and vibrant living were often topics of discussion; I was being filled with affirming food and thoughts and emotions.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiswqGldzpI1ThuYK6Z67xj54eDJqStNH-di8FigRv3gVIrWHb51CGkAZdHPWnHN-urirJUgMVPZFzyFJSs8x0942kVuFWYU87g-XPxjECNhxZbgpFYbfaMoRbK9cN1xGXT9JzQKK8ozNo/s1600/101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiswqGldzpI1ThuYK6Z67xj54eDJqStNH-di8FigRv3gVIrWHb51CGkAZdHPWnHN-urirJUgMVPZFzyFJSs8x0942kVuFWYU87g-XPxjECNhxZbgpFYbfaMoRbK9cN1xGXT9JzQKK8ozNo/s1600/101.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Old and new friends, all partners on a quest for a better mind, soul and body and supporting me in mine, reminded me that THIS is living. THIS is an integral part of my life. THIS is me.<o:p></o:p><br />
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(<i>An unexpected stop was</i> <i><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/uv?hl=en&pb=!1s0x8c03190dbadf7b8b:0xce87dfa48c8236dc!2m5!2m2!1i80!2i80!3m1!2i100!3m1!7e1!4shttps://picasaweb.google.com/lh/sredir?uname%3D105378688190846145273%26id%3D5962332587030626370%26target%3DPHOTO!5smar+chiquita+beach+puerto+rico+-+Google+Search&sa=X&ved=0CI8BEKIqMA1qFQoTCJ6x7M_2lMgCFchoPgodmwEK8Q" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Mar Chiquita</span></a>, located on the north shore between Aguada and San Juan. It isn't easy to find, but what worthwhile things in life are?</i>)<br />
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To hear more about social support, tune in to my <a href="https://centeredin.wordpress.com/summit-speakers/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Centered In</span></a> radio interview on April 29 or visit <a href="http://www.onebodywonlife.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">One Body Won Life</span></a>. After all, even we need support. <i>Gracias!</i></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16254586043798504796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6844266126545800508.post-77432830550507394392015-04-20T17:04:00.003-07:002015-04-23T18:02:30.392-07:00Oh, Wow! Ohiopyle<div style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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What a glorious weekend past. The trials of work seemed to fade away with every mile I traveled further from Pittsburgh. It wasn't long before I was walking in the sunshine and breathing country fresh air along the banks of the Youghiogheny River, the life's blood of Ohiopyle and a treasure for anyone who discovers it.</div>
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I followed along the banks of the jade green rapids as it snaked its way through the mountains, feeding the laurel and wildflowers hiding among stands of pines. Soon I was taken back to my roots in nature, the thunder and rush of the cascades drowning out any thoughts of my day at the office.</div>
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Meandering over ridges and along the river, I stopped to feel the warm sun on my face and light wind off the chilling water. I never knew so much beauty existed right in my backyard. I was breathing easy and realized all of my stress had been swept away like so much flotsam over the falls.<br />
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Soon I found myself in an open field and felt as if I was back home again in <a href="http://images.visititaly.com/App_Images/Blog/cfbe0f9c-ff06-45ea-9d90-2ca67f54d33b.jpg" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Pizzoferrato, Italy</span></a>. I closed my eyes and thanked God for all the bounty and beauty before me. I was rewarded later that evening with an indigo black sky dotted with a shiny scatter shot of stars from so many millennia ago. It was both majestic and humbling at the same time, which is what I love about nature.</div>
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I slept soundly at a cozy bed and breakfast appropriately called <a href="http://www.quiethousebnb.net/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Quiet House</span></a> and promised myself I would come back when the trees turn golden and the river readies itself for showers of snow. Maybe you can find a little gem like this near you and get in touch with nature? I hope so.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16254586043798504796noreply@blogger.com0