Today's Spiritual Woman

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Today’s Spiritual Woman A magazine for women who want to explore their inner spirit and share with women all over the world.


Spring Issue 2013

Today’s Spiritual Woman

MASABI Staff 2

Lola Carlile Ph. D. Art Therapist & Editor of Today’s Spiritual Woman Cin Broyles Digital Creative Editor & Advertisement Liaison Mind and Spirit and Body Improvement is proud to present our Spring 2013 issue of Today’s Spiritual Woman. We would like to thank every contributor to this issue and are always looking for new submissions. Please send your artistic expression for inclusion by E-mailing our Editor, Lola.

Advertisers! Tell us about your services or products. Full page for $200.00, half page $100.00, quarter page $50.00, your business card for $25.00 for photo ready advertisements. If you need us to create a graphic ad for you, we would be happy to for an additional $20.00 with the inclusion of your own logo and images. For more information or to place your advertisement, E-mail Cin Broyles.

Dean Croshere


Advertisement Internship Available Help build awareness, revenue, and support for MASABI and Today’s Spiritual Woman Magazine. Qualified individuals may send in cover letter and resumé for this internship with possible commission to The position is ideal for a marketing or advertisement student in the Willamette Valley.

The views and opinions expressed in the articles of Today’s Spiritual Woman are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of MASABI or the staff of TSW. We encourage authors of our articles in their diversity and ask that as you read you keep an open heart and mind. Today’s Spiritual Woman


It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind b


Mind 4

The Brick Wall of Therapy

Are you a carrot, egg, or coffee

Borderline Personality Disorder


A Metaphor

How to Find Yourself

And Then

A Sonnet of Spring

Featured Artist Penny Parker

Dewdrop Refractions: In the Wink

Sacred Cows

of a Moment

Garden of Eden Blog

I am Thinking of Nothing…..really – NOTHING! The Priest’s Daughter


Michael JasonSmith

blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. ~Charles Dickens~



Traditional British Mothering

Hyperventilation: *The* Anxiety

Sunday Simnel Cake

Attack Symptom

The Season of Spring


Places for Kids in Salem

Hope and Change for your

Simple Trap for Catching



Fine Weather for Freedom

The Twin Within ~review~

The Road Ever Goes On


Low Tide Lady Bug 12 Benefits of Olive Oil Healthy Facts Today’s Spiritual Woman


Paul Downey MIND



Today’s Spiritual Woman

The Brick Wall of Therapy Or BEWARE of Therapists…. By Aimee Jones

As I was perusing my various LinkedIn conversations I saw what I thought was the title of this article – then when I returned I saw it said anxiety instead….So while I was thinking about a brick wall and therapy, I wanted to share with you something that happened to me recently – something I never anticipated and certainly am struggling to overcome – stress created by a therapist and not dealt with so much that I had to cancel several important engagements and for a month afterwards still am dealing with the physical and emotional consequences of therapy gone awry. Exactly what happened?


Well, I along with many other recent graduates, am looking for a position as a therapist. I found one local therapist who agreed to provide some needed LPC hours by helping her with some groups. I met with one group at the therapist’s home. A handful of thirty- some year olds were gathered sitting on the floor. All of these women had health insurance so none were worried about financing this trip into the depths of their emotions. The group was for self-esteem and weight loss…. Although I was supposedly going to co-direct the group it seems the facilitator and therapist (let’s call her Joan) decided I could be a part of the group. I felt a bit uncomfortable but thought since I am young and new to the field of therapy, I might learn some new techniques. The group started off well and good – soft meditation music, but then the therapist began cooing, “I love you all! I handpicked you for this group.” That should have been my first clue – therapists, at least the ones trained at my school, were cautioned NOT to be overly solicitous of the clients. I asked myself how could someone love people she has just met? Perhaps in the Biblical sense of loving your neighbor, but that simple phrase I LOVE YOU is thrown about so much it has little meaning nowadays, except for the vulnerable who might really need to hear it…and when you love someone you are ALWAYS there for them. Not the role of the therapist…. We were told to close our eyes and go back to the very first house we lived in or remembered living in and to locate ourselves as a child in that room. I found a little girl who was happy, one who loved her mother more than life itself, and then the therapist asked us to take that child out of that environment.


I did not want to take her. I wanted to remain there with her. What happened next during the session I barely remember, although I do remember the therapist censoring me for opening my eyes during the session. She told me to turn off my phone, although the book I had purchased per her direction on Kindle was there….and others had their phones on vibration just as I did. The therapist mentioned that she was excited about the books we were told to purchase –totaling almost $50. She also admitted she hadn’t read them. Oh, no, my better instincts were telling me this was not right. Then, to my utter disbelief and horror, she had us turn to the first chapter and begin reading round robin. Several women said they preferred not to read aloud yet the therapist insisted they did. I sat ashamed and embarrassed that I was part of this spectacle as one woman who was well known in the community stammered as she tried to read the words. When I got home I collapsed with the burden of stress displaced. I did not know how to share with this therapist that I would never return. Writing several of my fellow therapists, they told me to do what I knew I must – I emailed and told her I was not able to continue with the group. I did not give her a reason. I did not have the nerve to tell her I disagreed with her techniques vehemently nor did I have the desire to tell her that I was hyperventilating – something I had done when I was younger and stressed – but that was all a part of the past, but was it? Here, now a month later, I am still ravaged by the feeling I must yawn to catch a breath. I know all the therapy tricks, but they aren’t working well. I must say I have learned a very good lesson – don’t take a client somewhere and leave them there or distort their memories without gently bringing them back to the present. What an enormous burden and responsibility we have to our clients. I know I will be a better therapist for this experience once I manage to pull myself out of the hyper cycle.

Brick Wall Image by Liz West Today’s Spiritual Woman


Borderline Personality Disorder –


Learning how to accept criticism graciously is a form of art, but for me it is a work of art in progress. This is because I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder and part of that syndrome is being unable to tolerate critical comments, no matter how well-meaning. So what happens when I get criticized? No matter how mindful my brain wants to be, my body has an anaphylactic reaction. I feel as though someone has thrown acid in my face. I feel my body disintegrating and my internal organs shutting down and psychological and physical death is imminent. Does that sound familiar to you? This isn’t planned, this isn’t about me being a Drama Queen or a Princess with a slipped tiara; it’s about staying alive. I go into survival mode where I have to sit in a chair, breathe deeply, count my fingers and toes and make sure that I am all here. I have to detoxify my body before I can even start to work out cognitively what was said, why it was said and what the ramifications of the criticism were. My body has this urgent need for rapid motion, for crying, for storming, screaming, wailing and breaking precious things. I am non-functioning for as long as it takes. There is a regression towards childhood memories where it feels annihilating. I feel as though I am being murdered. You may think I am seriously out of control when you read this, but all this is raging inside me as I sit cross legged on my yoga mat. I plot impotent revenge in my head but it goes nowhere as thoughts are not actions and my thoughts do not telepathically start fires, blow up buildings or hurt people. The only person in any remote physical danger from myself – is me. So how do I move on from here? Good question. Over the years I have disciplined myself to wait until the physical reaction has passed. This is not easy and it works some of the time. It took 16 years and I have managed to practice this for the most part over the past two years. Asking myself meaningful questions helped. But trust – trust in the people who criticized me was crucial.


Accepting Criticism Mindfully Usually it is a boss or supervisor, sometimes a friend or even a comment on my blog (now that can send me up into the stratosphere like an unmanned rocket). Most of the time, it is a criticism that, on its own merit, is deserved. Usually it is something that the person has thought about and agonized over for a long time and it takes a brave, concerned, loving-kindness person with a vested interest in my recovery and progress to do it. But no matter how well-meaning, any criticism makes me want to self-destruct because I feel evil, bad and morally un-salvageable. So I tune my thoughts into what the other person was feeling, thinking and their possible motive for saying what they did. And most of all, the part that I really dislike, is looking at my preceding behavior and trying not to justify what I did. More importantly, where did my reaction really come from? Is it my childhood voice speaking in the present and addressing unresolved issues from the past? We learn behavior implicitly and under stress react accordingly, automatically, without thinking. Perhaps we are not reacting to our current supervisor, but a teacher from the past who tried to hurt and humiliate us in front of the class, or a parent who did not know how to relate to a sensitive child. Who are we reacting to when we feel the back draft of criticism scorching our sensitive skin? My current crop of critics are my supervisor and my therapist (now turned work coach) – arguably the two most important people in my psychological life. I like them both and they are wise, wonderful women, so their criticism comes from a present-day perspective. Since changing roles, my therapist has been harder on me, less soft and nurturing and more, well, critical. What’s more, she tends to take the perspective of my supervisor and advises me to trust her because she has my best interests at heart and wants to see me grow, emotionally, psychologically and within the organization I work for. So I have two women in my life who want to see me stretch my wings and soar through the air, not come crash landing in a heap at the bottom of the cliff. Both these women criticize me. Both these women say things I do not want to hear, but under the guidance of these women I have grown, matured and have some semblance of what emotional intelligence looks like from an insider’s point of view. For me criticism is now a gift of love. Today’s Spiritual Woman


A Metaphor?

By C S Shaw

I threw the garlic away today. The coast garlic. Heaven only knows how old it was, but it waited so long for the chef that it dried up and went away, leaving only a memory in the segmented husk that remained. He always cooked at the coast. He was the chef. We had prawns, fancy fresh crab dishes, Italian dishes, whatever caught his fancy. The cabinet is still full of spices I don’t use—his spices. Sometimes I used a clove of garlic, but mostly not. My cooking is simple, tending toward my version of my mother’s not so classic “goulash”— something with lots of macaroni, very little ground meat, very little seasoning, but plentiful—enough to fill to hungry bellies when food was scarce. My version is better. It tends toward Italian, hot with red pepper flakes, seasoned with various Italian seasonings, laced with pepper-jack and sharp cheddar cheeses—pretty good stuff. Preparing it tonight, I reached for the garlic. That’s when I discovered it had gone away.


It left me wondering. Is the garlic a metaphor for my marriage, my passion for the love of my life?

Aaron Warren, Rio Seafood Buffet MASABI

Нина Рожковская’s Grandpa Sasha

And Then . . . By C S Shaw

Thanks again for coming over. It was so good to see you. Sometimes it feels like the twilight zone here—alone, but not—listening to him cough and rattle, and then at night, lying awake listening, hoping he can rest. Then when he’s quiet, wondering if he’s okay, if I need to get up and check on him, then wondering what I would do if he isn’t—if he’s dead. Then, when I read the paper, see the obituaries, I am once again grounded in the knowledge that other people are experiencing similar things every why is it so isolating and anxietyprovoking. I wonder how they survive. And then, I wonder if they also are isolated and alone. Do their family and friends every drop in, or call, just to say we’re here for you. What can we do? We love you. Then, again, I remember my mom and how she experienced months (maybe years) of this kind of thing with her husband. I didn’t have a clue, or even want to, probably. I never asked, nor did I offer comfort or help—just went on with my life, indifferent to how she might need me, even for support, if nothing else. I wasn’t lonely. My life was good. Then. And then, I remember the old saw; The only two things that are certain in life are death and taxes. That’s wrong—there’s a third thing; What goes around really does come around.

Today’s Spiritual Woman



Penny Parker



Penny Parker lives in the historic county of Gloucester, Virginia in a tiny town. Penny has a small farm named Witch’s Hollow, where she grows herbs and plants. Penny has several pets, among them four dogs and two cats. She is inspired by her dreams to paint. She shares, “It’s as if I do not put them on paper or canvas; they will not leave me alone.” Her earthy root connections to the world help her create her own pigments for paint from plants and bark found on the farm. “Walnut trees make good inks and true dark browns that make the painting or drawing pop.” Today’s Spiritual Woman

We all live and we die. In between we retire. Yet Austrian born and Texas bred Lola Carlile gave little, if any, thought to retirement. When the big R entered her life, she was taken aback and began amassing amazing experiences one after another; however, some were not that amazing and some downright unpleasant. Using her God-given talent, she began to record the ups and downs of retirement and it is her sincerest hope and prayer


that others might benefit from her experiences. Dr. Carlile enjoyed a wonderful career in education and upon her first retirement returned to graduate school to become an art therapist... Order your copy today for only $19.99 on Amazon books. MASABI

Sacred Cows


When I was a teenager, for some reason I don’t understand, I had a fascination with cows. I liked that they ate grass all day, slept in the sun, had black spots on them. It’s strange, I didn’t eat them, or even like the taste of their milk. I just loved them for no real reason. I collected statues of them, would take their picture whenever I passed a field of cows grazing, my friends even played a prank on me one morning, leaving the Gateway box in my front yard with a glass of milk and donuts on top like a table. Another time, someone hung a stuffed cow in a tree in front if my house. It was odd. So, coming to India all I wanted was to have a cow cross the street in front of me. It was my dream. And it was fulfilled 100 times over, all with a big smile on my face. This post is in honor of my high school self, pictures of cows from India.

Today’s Spiritual Woman


Garden of Eden Blog IMAGE & IMAGINATION By Susan Scott

Einstein famously said: ‘Imagination is more important than knowledge’. 18

He replied when asked by parents who wanted to know how to enhance their children’s intelligence: ‘If you want your children to be more intelligent, read them fairy tales. If you want them to be more intelligent, read them more fairy tales. Why is this, do you think? The short answer is that the child uses its imagination when hearing or reading the story. A fascination about dragons that needs to be overcome, dungeons to be explored; or the wicked stepmother lurking in the shadows, or the helpful bird that saves the day; and also a fascination of tales that do not have a neat and happy story line…Children may not have the emotional understanding to relate the tale to their own lives, but it resonates in some way as the fairy tale or myth expresses essential truths about the human condition in a metaphoric way. As adults we also get lost in gripping tales as images come to mind. We may know that we are not literally Parsifal in search of the Holy Grail; yet, in some way, we sense that we, too, seek redemption and healing; and it seems that we too have to go metaphorically through TS Eliot’s ‘wasteland’ as life challenges us. MASABI

Image and imagination are inextricably linked. Knowledge is fixed (I’m not knocking knowledge); imagination has no boundaries. The image that emerges from a dream requires that it NOT be fixed forever, but that it is given room to breathe and, more especially, that I engage in it, and allow it the attention that it demands of me and let it act as a psychopomp or daimon (guide) as it changes, moves, up or down, is fed by other images, enlarges, darkens, brightens, surprises and leads me ‘towards‘ – whatever that may be. Does the artist know the outcome of his painting as his paint brush hovers about the canvas? Does the writer know the final outcome of his words? The poet? Of course, there may be an idea of where the work is intended to go – the plan – but as the artist knows, the muse or the imagination may take him or her to places where they never imagined, the door will be kept open, imagery will flow and they will feel the richer for it entering into the ground of uncertainty. The wound of the Fisher King (the Grail Keeper) is healed and transformation happens when Parsifal poses the socially uncomfortable yet conscious question: “Whom does the Grail serve?” It is a metaphor for the question we could ask of ourselves as we play with the image using our imagination.

Today’s Spiritual Woman




Hartwig HKD Spirit of Meditation



Today’s Spiritual Woman

When encountering a whirlwind of emotions, it is often difficult to know just what to do. When facing difficult situations, whom do you turn to? And in times of extreme happiness, do you first thank who is responsible for that joy? Nancy Hurley learned at a young age that turning to God in every circumstance is the only way to make it through the tough times.


When faced with the threat of a sexual predator, Nancy turned to God. When she was repeatedly put down and belittled by family members, she turned to God. When she married her husband Ron and gave birth to her sons, she turned to God. Her conversations with her Lord have been a constant in her life from the time she had her tonsils removed. When she was frightened, lost, sad, as well as overjoyed, she knew the Lord would see her safely through. You will find comfort in the heartfelt prayers Nancy lifts up to God in times of need and times of joy and will be inspired by this intimate relationship Nancy shares with the one who has been her strength through thick and thin in Close Encounters with My Lord - Conversations with God. This book can be purchased through me ( , Tate Publishing and Enterprises, Mustang, OK, or The ISBN number is 978-1-61663-851-1. The price is $21.99.


Are you a carrot, egg, or coffee bean? Author Unknown

A young woman went to her Grandmother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling. Her grandmother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water. In the first she placed carrots, in the second eggs, and in the third she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil without saying a word. In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished out the carrots and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her granddaughter, she asked her, “What do you see?” “Carrots, eggs, and coffee,” she replied. She brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted they were soft and mushy. The grandmother then asked her to take out the remaining ingredients from the other two pans. She broke the egg and after the peeled the shell, she noted the hard interior. She then took a sip of the coffee. The granddaughter smiled as she inhaled the wonderful aroma of the coffee and asked her grandmother, “Well, what’s the point?” Her grandmother explained that each of these elements had faced the same adversity – boiling water. Each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard and unrelenting, but when overcome with the boiling water, became limp and weak. The egg had been fragile and its interior liquid, but when placed in the water became tough on the inside. The ground beans, however, were different. The water did not change the beans – the beans changed the water. So when adversity comes knocking on your door, what do you wish to be? An egg, a carrot, or some ground coffee beans? The choice is simply up to you. If you choose to be like the bean, when adversity comes knocking, you can make circumstances even better. You can improve your life. So, are you an EGG, a CARROT, or a COFFEE BEAN? It is your choice.

Today’s Spiritual Woman



he Priest’s Daughter


y Lola Carlile

Maria Helen thought this day was no different than any other day in Romania. She skipped joyously on the cobblestone street on her way home from school. As soon as she neared her home, her pace quickened as she anticipated the hugs her younger brothers would so gratuitously offer her as she entered the spacious abode the Bojescus called home. Mama and Papa would also be there, with Papa studying this Latin and Greek and Mama baking some delicious treat no one could turn down. Maria was a beautiful thirteen-year old young woman who managed to turn the heads of all those she passed. Possibly, it was her pensive, dark and piercing eyes which seemed to never focus on one thing for too long a period. Or perhaps it was her long sable locks that seemed to be just set free as they framed her petite face. As she neared the door, she realized she did not have to turn the handle. The door was already open. She stared in amazement and shock as she noticed that the emerald velvet window coverings Mama treasured so flew in the breeze through the open windows. With a knock she landed on the floor – someone was on top of her!


Too scared to scream and still in a stupor of the unknown, Maria heard a distant voice say, “Don’t be scared, Maria. It is I, Lydia.” Amidst the confusion, gun shots and lasts could be heard from outside. Maria recognized the voice of the neighbor’s loving maid, Lydia, though all the tumult. Lydia was always running errands even for those to whom she was not bound. She enjoyed a reputation of being fun loving and caring. Maria’s tears of mixed joy at knowing someone in this forlorn and empty house and sadness at not knowing where her parents and younger brothers were fell on the woman as they struggled to face one another. Lydia interrupted Maria’s frazzled thoughts. “Maria, your parents and the others have fled this area. They knew of the impending attack. They did not have time to find you. Doamnule Mazzo and his wife could not leave. She is too pregnant to feel during the daytime. So they promised to take care of you and to take you to your parents this evening. Everything will be alright.” The citizenry in Romani were in constant struggle with conflicting ideologies flowing throughout the veins of the land that enjoyed being the breadbasket of Europe—ideologies Maria was too young to understand or to care about. Romania was a land of abundant crops and wonderfully caring citizens. But now in the 1940s chaos had overtaken the land. Communism was spreading rampant. It was not thought good to have too many material possessions. Only use what is needed. What is utilitarian. Ha! The Bojescus and their neighbors enjoyed Turkish rugs and opulence. A summer kitchen. A winter kitchen. Maids. The works. How could they give this up and live as the common peasants in homes so crowded one could hear the person in the next room breathing? MASABI

King Carol had problems of his own. He could not manage his personal life, much less the lives of his constituents. His weakened role strengthened those who would normally not flourish. The land was being fought over as one fights over a prized bloom thrown by a bride in the air. No one knew whom to trust anymore. Was there anywhere to go to escape this abysmal situation? The fighting in the street seemed to lessen as Mari and Lydia lay upon the shiny floor just waxed this very morning by Mama. It seemed unreal. Maria thought that surely Mama would peek her face out from the kitchen and offer them a sweet treat. Probably some dulcet. Or some plum wine. But as the moments ticked slowly by, Maria heard no sign of her family. Instantly Lydia stood and gruffly pulled Maria to her feet also. They began running to the house next door. Quickly entering the home, Maria noticed Nadia, her extremely pregnant neighbor lying on the floor. Nadia was sobbing and her husband, Sebastian, was gently rubbing her back. “Now, now, Nadia. Things will be alright. We are safe for the moment. We have plans for the evening. Tomorrow we will be in safe territory.” As Maria listened to the conversation, she realized that she would never see her home again. She would never play hide and seek on the street that provided a safe haven for neighborhood children. She would never again feel the safety of her family in this home. Maria’s family had not always been wealthy. Papa had been a Roman Catholic priest He had not planned to fall in love and certainly did not plan to betray the church marrying his beloved Mathilde. And Mama certainly did not wish to cause pain to the families and to her beloved church. She was resigned to enter the cloister for eternity. But Papa was a man true to his feelings. He knew what he must do and he did it. They were married in some obscure part of Romania, running from their families who were determined to stop this marriage. In their hometown they were known as the Priest and his wife. While Mama taught at the village school, Papa studied his mathematics and physics. It was during this time that Maria was born. Papa was not like other Romanian fathers. He changes his beloved Marias diapers. He washed, coked, and cleaned. All this while his beloved Mathilde taught school With one hand he gently rocked the carriage containing his precious Mari and with the other he studied his texts. The family moved to Dorohoi where they were known simply as the Professor and his wife. There two more children were born to the happy family—two living sons, Adrian and Silvius. The joy that emanated from the family made others notice. The spirit of happiness and fulfillment flourished in the Dorohoi residence of the Bojescus. But now that seemed eons ago. Where were Maria’s parents? What were they doing? Why was life so unpredictable and scary? Editor’s Note: This excerpt is part of a Writer’s Workshop Lola attends in Salem at the local library. Perhaps one day it will be a book….It is an attempt at historical fiction, based on Lola’s mother’s life.

Today’s Spiritual Woman


How to Find Yourself By Hayley Banks Take a moment to find yourself It might be hard at first, but keep trying When you see the wooden door in the distance, walk towards it but do not listen to the sprites along the way. Especially the green ones. Once you reach the door, study the words along the top frame. Though you may not understand the words, remember them. Touch the large symbol before opening the door slowly. Once through, you will see a bright and colorful light.


Let yourself fall into the white nothing, but don’t worry. You will land safely. When you land, go into the wood and listen to the first tree you touch. They all will tell you stories, but your tree’s story is the one you will keep. Walk through the wood and imagine the adventures to come. But do not get lost from what’s around you. Once you’ve reached your destination, hold still. Let in every sound, every scent, and every thing. Let the creatures approach you, not the other way around. Let their strength and wisdom be your own. When you are ready to return, go back the way you came. Thank all you’ve seen and heard, they may do you favors in the future. Take a deep breath and wake up. Then write it down so that you will never forget.


Prayers are answers to hope Of things that might have Or could have been Those fragile wisps Of thoughts catapulting From my weary heart God or whoever you are I yield to your superior power lola

Today’s Spiritual Woman




A Sonnet of Spring Images and Poetry for the season





from Summer’s Last Will and Testament by Thomas Nashe (1600) Spring, the sweet spring, is the year’s pleasant king, Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring, Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing: Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, towitta-woo!

The palm and may make country houses gay, Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day, And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay: Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, towitta-woo!


The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet, Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit, In every street these tunes our ears do greet: Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to witta-woo!

Today’s Spiritual Woman

Early in the Spring Early in the spring Not a leaf has struck the ground The swallow has yet to sing And the plowmen are no where to be found


Early in the spring The forest stands still And no creature dare come out Before the sun rises o’er the hill Early in the spring The valley holds the morning dew And its serenity may be captured By only a certain few Early in the spring The trees turn, brown to green Many changes occur But few can be seen Early in the spring Or in the latter of fall No matter the change of season The evergreen stands tall James Kent



Today’s Spiritual Woman



Sonnet 98 by William Shakespeare (1609)

From you have I been absent in the spring When proud-pied April, dress’d in all his trim, Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing, That heavy Saturn laugh’d and leap’d with him. Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue, Could make me any summer’s story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew: Nor did I wonder at the lily’s white, Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose; They were but sweet, but figures of delight, Drawn after you, you pattern of all those. Yet seem’d it winter still, and you away, As with your shadow I with these did play.


Today’s Spiritual Woman


Spring Song A BLUE-BELL springs upon the ledge, A lark sits singing in the hedge; Sweet perfumes scent the balmy air, And life is brimming everywhere. What lark and breeze and bluebird sing, Is Spring, Spring, Spring! No more the air is sharp and cold; The planter wends across the wold, And, glad, beneath the shining sky We wander forth, my love and I. And ever in our hearts doth ring This song of Spring, Spring! For life is life and love is love, 'Twixt maid and man or dove and dove. Life may be short, life may be long, But love will come, and to its song Shall this refrain for ever cling Of Spring, Spring, Spring! Paul Laurence Dunbar


Spring Spring is life Spring is hope So is love and happiness. Spring renews. Without spring, life is forlorn. Spring is nostalgia after bitter storm. Put spring in your heart Archie Greenidge


Today’s Spiritual Woman

Spring Quiet Christina Rossetti (from Verses, 1847)

Gone were but the Winter, Come were but the Spring, I would go to a covert Where the birds sing.

Full of sweet scents, And whispering air Which sayeth softly: “We spread no snare;

Where in the whitethom Singeth a thrush, And a robin sings In the holly-bush.

“Here dwell in safety, Here dwell alone, With a clear stream And a mossy stone.

Full of fresh scents Are the budding boughs Arching high over A cool green house:

“Here the sun shineth Most shadily; Here is heard an echo Of the far sea, Though far off it be.”




Today’s Spiritual Woman

Three Blind Men and a Lady Lola Carlile infused her life with the love of art and when she retired from education, decided to return to the classroom to study art therapy. Little did she know the road ahead would be filled with intense challenges working with mentally ill adults with little or no sight. She tackled the challenges head on, discovering that the easy notion


of using clay with these clients would not work - at least not at first. Fall in love with the characters as Carlile relates their story of struggling day to day to find peace and happiness - an experience neither the author nor the readers will soon forget.

Order your copy today Through Barns and Nobel on-line

$12.99 MASABI

Dewdrop Refractions: In the Wink of a Moment By Samantha Mozart

Tuesday, July 31, 2007– Indeed it is appreciation—to appreciate and to think critically about what we are doing before we lose what we have: I stood outside this morning with our blue teacup poodle, Jetta—blue, the poodle people say, because white curly flecks marble her otherwise black coat—when I noticed the sunlight refracting violet, red, yellow and green through the dewdrops onto the grass. My mind sailed back to Ship Bottom, New Jersey, where, when I was a child, my mother took my brother and me to spend a few days visiting relatives. Everywhere yards were covered in gravel, no grass, gravel— cream, apricot and ochre, the small, flat stones marbled with brown flecks—glaring in the hot August sun, digging into the soles of my bare feet. We slept on iron cots in the big attic room, the pungent smell of wood beams and walls baking and drying under the heat. The poignancy in the light of the moment this morning refracted a spectrum of such memories across my mind. I revisited the crystal clarity of my uncluttered childhood psyche where I experienced many such momentary phenomena, like watching the particles of dust lit up and dancing in a shaft of sunlight playing through the windowpane diagonally down across the room to my grandparents’ living room rug where I tended my dolls. As an adult, I experience far fewer of these mesmerizing moments. This morning I recalled that I often observed the beauty and sensuality surrounding me as a child living outside Philadelphia: simply kneeling on the studio couch and looking out my bedroom window, as a four-year-old, up at the deep blue sky with the stray, wispy white clouds; examining a green fluffy caterpillar and noticing that its excrement is green and wondering what it eats to make it green; wandering the fields and woods with my black and tan shepherd/collie, Butch; standing on the hill with my brother and waving down across Today’s Spiritual Woman


the field of high brown weeds to the engineer of the steam engine puffing black smoke out over the line of freight cars it pulled along the B&O tracks. As an adult, when I worked at the farm stand in Naples, Florida, during a lull I’d study the legions of lizards, noticing that they hiss when they fight and that they fight like cats; and that tree frogs when they get into the refrigerator, lodge on a plastic orange juice bottle and get cold, stretch flat out and become lethargic, but when you peel them off and put them on a fence in the sun, in twenty minutes they plump back up, draw their legs back under them and hop away. It takes twenty minutes every time. There was even my simple experience of standing in the radiant Southern California sunshine, with my luggage cart stacked with picnic coolers, selling sandwiches to office workers and outside the warehouse where we got the sandwiches, in the parking lot, chatting with coworkers.


My experience this morning tapped me on the shoulder and spun me around to look at the past and remind me how much I love being outdoors and that I am constantly striving for that experience—pursuing my landscape photography, and my many trips to Mammoth Lakes, California, Yosemite and the High Sierra, there spotting a spring spewing from a crack in a granite rock or rounding a bend in a steep mountain path, suddenly coming upon a waterfall; and to the Grand Canyon and Southern Arizona wandering the back country, maybe trails where Geronimo tread; my hours spent walking the beach, padding along the edge of the foamy, sunlit surf—Atlantic or Pacific; or exploring the fields and woods; or just standing in the sun anywhere and feeling warmed. In the wink of a moment this morning I realized why certain people touch me so deeply— it is my love of the intelligent mind, oneness of mind with another, my love of the sensuality of nature and of being outdoors—exploring and respecting what is given us on this beautiful and rare planet: “gathering the many questions the outdoors provides”, one biology teacher told me; gathering the many questions any subject provides. It is the curiosity of a child, the seeking of a greater truth, a truth that may reveal itself in its awesome beauty as contradictory. Leo Tolstoy said the truth is contradictory. I travel in my mystical journey; as in a train carriage to stations along a railroad line, from one MASABI

experience I come to another, unsidetracked. These thoughts and experiences ring for me, like Russian church bells—true yet cacophonous. The instant I set foot at Monticello I fell in love with Thomas Jefferson. If ever I could have a conversation with him—I felt his presence so strongly and sensually there, as if he were standing in front of me in the room, watching and sensing my thoughts. –-Speaking to me? Maybe he’d speak in a soft, thoughtful, drawn out, Charlottesville accent, but not a drawl; and the conversation itself—the refracting of the one mind into many ideas: philosophy, science, nature, architecture, cities and farming, people, government, laws, intriguing and enjoyable discoveries in other cultures and civilizations—such as macaroni and cheese in Paris—and planning for the future and the history. These poignant moments are my Marble Angel, the marble angel the sculptor, who was covered in white powdery dust as if he’d just crawled out of a sack of flour, walked me up the long hill on the ochre dirt path and showed me. There the flat, white angel lay in a wooden box of straw in the back of his studio high on the edge of a cliff overlooking the copper mine pit in Jerome, Arizona—my peak experience; the marble angel of Thomas Wolfe’s novel, Look Homeward, Angel:“…a stone, a leaf, an unfound door; of a stone, a leaf, a door. And of all the forgotten faces.” I had just read the novel.


“I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free,” said Michelangelo. To hear that certain voice over the phone, to see that face, to look deep into those eyes, to share thoughts deep in the mind; sometimes it comes with the music they compose or play, or the stories they write or speak; sometimes a musical or prose voice reaching down across the centuries—I was blown away when I heard on CD nineteenth-century Russian composer Alexander Scriabin playing his own music, music he’d made on piano roll in 1910.

Crystal Marie Lopez Angel

Today’s Spiritual Woman

These experiences are mystical. Like Jude (the mason) and Sue (his cousin) in Thomas Hardy’s novel Jude the Obscure, they exist for me as that soul realization, that oneness; what comes spontaneously: I saw the sunlight refracted through the dewdrops this morning. I was teleported to a childhood moment in Ship Bottom and I knew the connection—all in an instant: setting one’s own angel free. As I age, I feel like a relic. So, I slow down, I observe, I appreciate. And I feel alone, especially in today’s world where the race is on and series of phenomena blur, engineless, as they speed past the windows of my mind, or like a watercolor carelessly left out on the lawn on a foggy night—the details run and smear. But it is seeing the sunlight refracted through the dewdrops on the grass. That is what it is all about. I think it most significant to slow down, stop a moment and pay heed to oneself and one’s surroundings, to allow one’s mind time to perceive, relate things one to another, organize, make sense of it all. It is the wink of a dewdrop turning and bending the sun’s rays into all the details of the rainbow, passing from one medium and bending into another, a key struck on a piano, a string plucked on a cello, an instant, whether noticed or not, that reverberates through the empyrean spheres.


Wednesday, August 1 I saw the dewdrops on the grass again this morning and as I stood and gazed and marveled at the rainbow colors in the refracted sunlight, I flashed on walking on the Palos Verdes, California, bridle path with my Siberian husky, Kolia, black with blue eyes—and the red and yellow California poppies: the puppy and the poppies.

Samantha Mozart is author of the book, “Begins the Night Music: A Dementia Caregiver’s Journal, Volume I,” available at and writes a blog, “Salmon Salad and Mozart: a Dementia Caregiver’s Journal,”



From my spring past to you by Cin Coos County Oregon’s Shore Acres State Park is a family retreat that delights the soul. I spent many springtimes sitting drawing flowers in this bode filled with greenery. It was a happy place for my young spirit. Stop and look at the cranes in the pond. I fondly remember the one looking up because I put that there when I was just six years old. Working with my dad to build up the pond, I remember it being one of the heaviest things I ever lifted, but, of course, at age six, anything heavier then a small bike was was like lifting the world. Yes, many joyous springs were spent there and I remember them fondly.

Shore Acres State Park

Today’s Spiritual Woman

I am thinking of nothing…..really – NOTHING! By Lola Wotta

As I sat and watched my husband stare into space for a few minutes recently, I was moved by his pensiveness and gently nudged him and asked him what he was thinking. When he replied, “Nothing,” I was surprised, but thought it was something he did not think was important, so trying to engage in meaningful conversation, I continued to probe, “That’s okay – I just thought you were thinking about something important. What were you thinking? To which he replied again, “Nothing. Seriously. I was not thinking about anything.” I thought and still think it is incredulous that a human being can sit and stare into space and not be aware of thinking about anything at all. Is that even possible? My mind goes something like this – let’s say I’m trying to go to sleep and am tossing and turning – thoughts race through my mind


– sleep, yes, I need to sleep, but can’t, why? Maybe something is wrong. Boys are okay? Haven’t heard from them…they must be mad at me. Or don’t care anymore. Oh, my, why do my kids not love me? I know now what my mama thought – oh, my mama, I surely miss her. I cry daily for her – she loved dancing and music – ah, yes, I love Josh Groban – uh, wish I could sleep – did I take my pills? Is the door locked? What am I gonna do tomorrow? Wish I could sleep, maybe sleep in. What do I have to do? On and on and on….and that’s just a minute of time….what happens when I sit and stare into space just like my husband did that day? Could I even try to sit and think of nothing? Surely I could try and have tried, but it’s almost impossible for me to blot away those thoughts that drift into my head. I am asking WHY and Y is exactly what makes men different from women – their Y chromosome. Scientists decoding the human genome have discovered that just 78 genes separate men from women. But what are they? A tongue in cheek BBC poll suggests the following ideas from men and women: (men in bright yellow and women in pale yellow – yes, I, as a woman, know the difference!).




Women understand color. They seem to know what to wear all the time.

Men just think red is nice, pink is nice, so why not have them together?

Women have the Oh dear, the toilet paper is on its last sheet; must replace it immediately gene. On being told that someone has bought a new car women usually ask what color it is.

This is entirely absent in men who have the Oh s..t! Can you pass me a toilet roll, love? gene! Men ask what sort is it.

Women have the If you need to be told I am not going to tell you gene. Women know instinctively what is dangerous or not recommended for babies in their care. Women like to hide things in cupboards.

Men have no opinions about curtains. Men, generally speaking, do not.

Unless she is a geek girl women do not care what size the TV is as long as it works right. A multi-tasking gene is clearly only owned by women.

Men like to have all their stuff (DVDs, CDs, etc) on show to impress their mates. Men appreciate the importance of a 60 inch plasma screen. Men can never prepare dinner so that everything is ready at the same time.

Ask a woman in the street how to get somewhere and she will direct via shops.

Ask a man and it will be via pubs, automotive, or hardware store.

To see the rest of the list, check out the following url:

For more serious thinkers, try reading the following urls that speak to the scientific reasons men and women think differently.

Seriously, some women think more like men and some men think more like women – the line between us is narrower these days, but in my home we are pretty darn different. I’m not sure hubby has a clue when I clean and when I don’t. When I’ve done a spectacular job (my adjective, of course) and he comes home, I ask, “Don’t you like how the house smells so clean?” To which he might reply, “It does?” or “Hum, I didn’t notice.” So why do I do it? Because I like it clean. I like the fresh smell and tidy appearance and, maybe someday, somehow, he will realize he does, too! In the meantime, let’s toast to differences which make life so very intriguing.

Today’s Spiritual Woman



Asterio Tecson Solstic in Time Square 2011



Today’s Spiritual Woman

Traditional British Mothering Sunday Simnel Cake By French Tart on March 02, 2007 Ingredients:


Almond paste

400 g icing sugar, sifted 250 g ground almonds 1 large egg yolks, beaten lightly 3 -4 tablespoons orange juice 5 drops almond essence


250 g plain flour 1 pinch salt 1 teaspoon nutmeg 1 teaspoon cinnamon 280 g currants



creamy then beat in eggs one at a time, until the mixture is fluffy. (Reserve a drop of egg yolk for brushing over top layer of almond paste.). Stir flour and fruit into creamed mixture (you may need to add a little milk to give the mixture a dropping consistency).

A sifter, nest of bowls, food processor or electric beater, spatula, wooden spoon, 24 cm round cake tin, baking paper, brown paper and twine, rolling pin, thin metal skewer.



• •

To make your own almond paste you will need a food processor fitted with a steel blade. Don’t be tempted to use store-bought almond paste because it contains lots of sugar and few almonds, it will turn to liquid under the grill. Place icing sugar and almonds in food processor bowl. Process, slowly dripping in egg yolk, orange juice and almond essence. The mixture should form a pliable paste. Set aside a small portion for balls with which to decorate the cake. Roll out the remaining paste into 2 circles which are the approximate size of the tin. Set aside.

STAGE 2. • •

• •

Preheat oven to 160°C/320°F. Use a sturdy non-stick cake tub or line the buttered base with baking paper. As the baking period is long (1-1 1/2 hours), prevent the cake drying out by wrapping a double thickness of brown paper around the pan and securing it with twine. Sift flour, salt and spices together, then stir in fruit and peel. Cream butter and sugar thoroughly until light and


• • •

• • •

250 g sultanas 110 g mixed peel 160 g butter 160 g caster sugar 3 large eggs 200 ml milk, to mix

Place half the mixture into a greased and lined cake tin. Place one pre-rolled round of almond paste over the top. Cover with remaining cake mixture. Before baking the cake, give the pan of mixture a sharp tap on to a firm surface. This settles the mixture and prevents holes from forming in the cake. Bake in the centre of the oven for 1-1 1/4 hours or until a thin metal skewer inserted in the centre of the cake comes out without a trace of stickiness. Level the cake by placing a weighted plate on top of the cooked cake while it is still hot. Turn out cake on to a wire rack after leaving it to settle in the cake tin for between 10 and 15 minutes. Peel off paper and leave to cool completely.

STAGE 4. •

Cover the top of the cake with a second round of almond paste. Roll 11 small balls of paste and place evenly around the top of the cake. Brush the top with a little beaten egg and very lightly brown under the grill until the almond paste turns light golden brown. Remove and leave to cool.

THE SEASON OF SPRING the season of spring weather seems to sing lovely lovely days are coming our ways the season of spring blooming blossoming of nature of all kind let roots unbind the season of spring birds unfold their wings diving high into sky wish one could fly the season of spring careful hearts love sting reaching out towards others some persons might bother the season of spring nice sound bells ring new wave new style faces have on a smile the season of spring an new awakening busy humanity on earth as if it’s a new birth listen listen to my words the season of spring is near now a look into your lovely eyes and one can see spring is already here Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel poem/the-season-of-spring/

Xiaofan Luo, Spring Garden Today’s Spiritual Woman


Places for Kids in Salem by Heather Carlile

Stir-crazy parents in Salem, things are looking up! During those long, rainy winters, parents in Salem have been limited in places to go to let the kids blow off steam. However, in addition to the usual favorites, like the library, we now have many affordable options that are truly sanity savers for parents. First up, one of my personal favorites is Latte Play, located at 4572 Commercial St., (503) 385-1011. Latte Play is a small coffee shop owned by parents Steve and Julie, who serve stellar coffee and a fun atmosphere, for kids and parents alike. Parents can lounge on comfy chairs and couches, hook up to the free WiFi, and kids can color, read, or play in one of the many stations (doll house, school bus, etc.). The shop is small enough that you can pretty much see your kids at all times without having to constantly move around and chase after them. Latte Play also serves bagels, pastries, cookies, and sandwiches, along with healthy snacks for the kids – cheese sticks, applesauce, etc. They’ve recently acquired their liquor license, so there is also a small wine and beer selection, as well as mimosas. Please consider visiting this awesome shop and supporting this great local family. “Like” them on Facebook for announcements on scheduled playdates, crafty workshops, and more!


In January, Salem saw the opening of Super Bounce. They are located at 3160 Blossom DR NE, Suite 101, (503) 580-9596. Super Bounce is a large facility with several oversize bounce houses for the kids to run and bounce to their hearts content. There is a giant double slide, a pirate ship, a castle, an obstacle course, and much more. There are private rooms for birthday parties, and places for parents to hang out and enjoy the free WiFi. The fee is $6/hour, and there are height restrictions for certain structures. I appreciated the vigilant MASABI

staff encouraging the kids to sanitize their hands, and they keep a close eye to ensure the safety rules are being followed. Having a four year old, I also appreciate that there are designated “toddler times” to give the younger kids some time to play without being bumped around by bigger kids. Super Bounce also has a Facebook page, and they post the hours and availability each day, so make sure to check the schedule before you head on out. Salem’s most recent addition is the Creative Studio for Children, located at 5680 Commercial St. SE, (503) 689-1451. Creative Studio is a place for kids to do art, and be creative, while allowing parents to not have to pull out the glitter at home. ;-) There are easels with various painting options, a ricebox with toys, a small reading nook, and tables in the center that I’m told have rotating crafts. We visited the studio recently, and enjoyed our time. The cost is slightly higher than I would like ($10 unlimited time for the first child, $6 for each additional child in your family). My daughter painted with balloons, read a book, made a card with foam letters, a picture with glue and glitter, and overall had fun with her friends. Many of the crafts require parental assistance, depending on your child’s age, and it may not be super fun for older kids, although there was a table with a weaving option geared towards an older crowd. They also have a private party area, and a place for kids to take a break and have a snack. Parents can relax on couches and hook up to the WiFi when not helping the children. Lastly, although this is not a “play” place, I must mention Little Angels Kids Salon. Jennifer has a super fun little salon geared towards the kiddos with toys, movies, and plenty of distractions that your kids can enjoy while getting a great haircut. Jennifer does do adult hair, as well, so get a trim for yourself while the kids play in the play room – or take advantage of her nail tech, and get a mani for you and your little one. Little Angels is located at 3290 Liberty Rd SE, (503) 391-8861. I encourage everyone to make an appointment – although she does accept walk-ins, there are plenty of times that she is booked solid, so it’s worth calling ahead. My daughter loves to go – she gets to watch a movie for a few minutes, and walks out with a pretty cut, a fun style with barrettes, and of course – the glitter hair spray (optional, of course).

Today’s Spiritual Woman



What you need is: 200 ml water 50 grams of brown sugar, 1 gram of yeast (yeast bread, found in any supermarket) and a 2-liter plastic bottle.


How to: Cut the plastic bottle (PET type) in half. Storing the neck portion: Mix brown sugar with hot water. Let cool. When cold, pour in the bottom half of the bottle. Add the yeast. No need to mix. It creates carbon dioxide. Place the funnel part, upside down, into the other half of the bottle. Wrap the bottle with something black, minus the top, and put in some corner of your house. In two weeks you will see the amount of mosquitoes who died inside the bottle. In addition to cleaning their homes, breeding sites of mosquitoes, we can use this method in: schools, nurseries, hospitals, homes, ranches, farms, ranches, nurseries. etc. Do not forget dengue in the coming months: this mosquito can kill a person! MASABI

Yay!! It's Spring!! Time to get ready for mosquito invasions. Here's an easy & pleasant repellent recipe you can make at home: Combine in a 16 oz bottle: 15 drops lavender oil 3-4 Tbsp of vanilla extract


Tips for Coping with Anxiety:

Today’s Spiritual Woman

The Twin Within Lola Carlile and Stephanie Anne Stockton Review by Charles Petterson

Why do you want to read a memoir? Perhaps a famous person you admire or are curious about has offered insight into her life. Perhaps an experience you identify with or are curious about is offered by a person you are not acquainted with. In the case of The Twin Within, I doubt you are familiar with Ms Stockton so the issue is whether or not you are curious about the life experiences of a hermaphrodite. Ms Stockton was born soon after 1945 (her birthdate is not revealed) and I identified with her early childhood experiences because I grew up in the same era. The attitudes of her parents, the medical community, and cohorts match my recollections. Born with a penis and a vagina, the prevailing medical advice of the time was to raise such children as a boy. The hormonal battles that ensued during childhood are secondary to the abusive treatment at the hands of her father.


At the onset of menses the doctors performed a hysterectomy and closed “the slit.” Although menstruation is no longer a factor, the adolescent’s hormones continue to strengthen and the internal battles rage while the youngster yearns to live as a female. The battle continues to the present day, with alternate periods of living as a female and male. The most impressive part of this story is Ms Stockton never presents herself as a victim, which one might easily accept given her challenges and abuses. Instead, the story ignores most of the negative emotions she certainly experienced and, if related, would generate a great deal of sympathy. Lola Carlile has done a good job of presenting the story in a linear manner. Unlike many memoirs that mimic a Mexican jumping bean within pages and paragraphs, this story is told from start to finish. Hermaphrodism is a rare condition. I can’t imagine living with the constant conflict, but The Twin Within brings to the reader a pragmatic account of one person’s life. If this work were fiction I would be looking for additional details at certain critical points. If this work were an academic offering I would be looking for more clinical discussion, but this is neither. This is Stephanie’s story. I recommend you read it.


What would you do if your twelve–year old son began his period? That is the question one California family had to ponder in 1960, an era when rock and roll shattered the innocence of the 50’s. With impending doom from nations near out shores, the world was not ready to accept, discuss, nor tolerate a boy having a girl’s period. This American family was soon to be drawn into a world they never dreamed of, much less were prepared to cope with.

Lola Carlile is a writer, muse, traveler, and, most of all, an educator interested in the psyche of people. She lives on the West Coast with her husband and enjoys writing as a form of meditation. Stephanie Anne Stockton is a gardener, seeker of truth, and a woman in search of happiness from within. She also lives on the West Coast.

55 On Sale now through Author House Publishing online

Hardcover $28.20 E-book

$ 3.99

Softcover $18.70 71814&sr=8-1&keywords=The+Twin+Within

Today’s Spiritual Woman

Incredible By Pat Garcia

Events, Occurrences, And moments, Which turn years into, Hours, minutes, and seconds, Impressed themselves upon our lives daily, but we need to prepare ourselves to recognize them. It is up to us, To abandon the logic of seeing is believing, And to return to our roots that believing is seeing. It is the person that sees,


Beyond the poverty that tries to strangle him or her, Beyond the sickness that lames, Beyond the disability or hindrance that afflicts, Beyond the color of the skin, or the nationality or the language, Beyond the complaints of what he or she does not have, That moves ahead. This, however, affords a declaration of war, against the deadliest disease on planet earth, The never ending, Never stopping Attacks against your mind. No one can protect your mind, but you. Yes, I know it is difficult. How often have I sunken into desperation only to realize the power I needed resides in me. I am also not talking about some kind of self-made man or woman power. Most of these self-made people achieve their goals by encroaching upon others, unmercifully. No, the power I am referring to lies in the Spirit of God. When you hear this voice, you’ll know it because you will have then returned, Back to the roots where believing is seeing. Changing our focus from without to within means stepping out there just as you are and beginning with what you have, and more than likely, what you have will be nothing. However, nothing starts a chain reaction that moves us slowly into the realm of heavenly entitlements. Incredible doors open up that we thought would never open, MASABI

In hours, in minutes, or seconds. Edison saw the light bud lighting up the world before he invented it. Can’t you hear Thomas Edison as he bumbles around in his laboratory making one mistake after the other? Can you see him, people? Can you see him? Germain saw herself attending school in France before women were allowed to receive an education. Can’t you see her sitting in her father’s study teaching herself Geometry, Calculus and Trigonometry? Can you see her people? Can you see her? Truth saw herself defending her right to be a woman, when black women were still considered property of their masters. Yet, this woman who was forced to walk through the back door to enter the building stood before a state congress and vocalized her speech, Ain’t I A Woman? and a congress was humbled by the authority that rang out of her voice. Can you see her people? Can you see her? Incredible said the family, friends, and people that gathered around Edison. Yet, Thomas Edison invented the light bulb. Incredibly incredible said the scholars of France. Women don’t have the brains to fathom out Mathematics. Yet, Sophie Germain was the leading scholar of her time, understand you, a self taught Mathematician. Simply incredible said the Ohio politicians as Sojourner Truth stood before them as a woman endowed with the authority of a leader. Yet, Sojourner Truth walked her talk as she challenged the men about the injustices of a system established by them. Incredibleness achieved by three people who started out with only the willingness to believe, and they laid down an incredible history that turned years into, Occurrences, Events, And Moments, That impact our lives today. Can you see them, people? Can you see them?

Today’s Spiritual Woman


What would you attempt if you knew you could not fail? (Author Unknown)





Today’s Spiritual Woman

Hyperventilation: *The* Anxiety Attack Symptom

Out of nowhere, your heart starts to speed up. You feel weak and lightheaded. You feel like you can’t get a deep breath. Suddenly your chest starts to hurt and your mind is racing. You feel like everything around you is crashing – you feel like this might be it. All of the sudden you have one final moment of extreme terror… … then suddenly it melts away. You may know that what you experienced was an anxiety attack, and anxiety attacks cause intense physical symptoms. What you may not realize is that those physical symptoms were caused almost exclusively by hyperventilation.


Introduction to Hyperventilation While anxiety is to blame for hyperventilation, hyperventilation is to blame for dozens of the worst symptoms of anxiety. Hyperventilation can cause so many problems that some doctors label it its own disorder, known as “hyperventilation syndrome.” Hyperventilation literally translates to “overbreathing.” Contrary to popular belief – and contrary to the way it makes you feel – it is not the act of getting too little air. Rather, it’s the act of breathing out carbon dioxide too quickly, causing too much oxygen to enter the lungs. Hyperventilation can occur in many different ways: • Breathing Too Fast – Breathing too fast is the most common way to hyperventilate, and very common with anxiety. During periods of intense anxiety, the body goes into fight or flight mode and starts breathing quickly as it prepares to fight or flee. But since there is no danger, your body just keeps hyperventilating, until you’ve started to experience the physical symptoms that come from extensive hyperventilation. • Thinking About Breathing – Many people MASABI

with panic attacks have a tendency to think about their own breathing. Unfortunately, this can also lead to symptoms of hyperventilation, because it causes your body to essentially breathe more than it needed to previously. Your body knows how much it needs, and often it needs very little. But when you think about your breathing, you tend to breathe far more than you actually need to, leading to hyperventilation. • Unnecessary Deep Breaths – Finally, another often forgotten way to hyperventilate is to take several long, unnecessarily deep breaths. If you have a tendency to yawn when you’re nervous or try to breathe in until your chest expands when your body isn’t asking for it, that can lead to hyperventilation as well – especially if you’re also breathing in too quickly to do it. One of the main issues with hyperventilation is that your body starts to feel shortness of breath. Your body feels as though it’s not getting enough oxygen, when the problem is actually the opposite. So the reaction that most people have to hyperventilate is unintentionally to hyperventilate more. They try to breathe in too much air too quickly because they feel like they’re not completely breathing, causing the hyperventilation to get worse.

Symptoms of Hyperventilation Hyperventilation is generally not dangerous. But it causes symptoms that mimic very dangerous disorders. Hyperventilation causes carbon dioxide levels to drop very low in your blood stream. This lack of balance causes your blood vessels to constrict and your nerves to fire incorrectly. All of this leads to a host of problems that those with anxiety attacks will find very familiar, including: • Rapid heartbeat. • Chest pains. • Lightheadedness/feelings of faint. • Difficulty concentrating. • Shortness of breath • Weak or tingling limbs. On their own, these symptoms would already cause significant discomfort. When combined with anxiety, these symptoms often lead to severe anxiety attacks, health fears, and more.

How to Tell if You Hyperventilate There’s no surefire test for hyperventilation, since it tends to come and go. If you’ve been to a doctor and ruled out any other heart or lung problems, the likelihood is that you may be hyperventilating. There are some warning signs. Chest pains tend to be sharper and more in the center of the chest. Many people find that they have to burp or yawn more than they would previously. And hyperventilation usually corresponds pretty well to how you’re breathing. If you have anxiety attacks, there is a good chance you’re hyperventilating often. And if you have anxiety and you’ve ruled out other health problems, hyperventilation is very likely to be the cause of your symptoms.

What to Do to Prevent Hyperventilation Hyperventilation is both caused by and causes anxiety attacks, so if you can stop hyperventilating, you can potentially reduce the severity of your panic attacks and possibly prevent them altogether. Most people don’t realize they’re hyperventilating until they’ve already started, so it may be difficult to fully control all anxiety attacks and prevent all hyperventilation. Furthermore, the more you think about your breathing, the more at risk you are for hyperventilation because you’ll have a tendency to breathe more than you need to, so it’s not always in your best interests to go about your day trying hard to breathe correctly. You also need to make sure that you’re willing to accept what hyperventilation is – a non-dangerous breathing style that is going to cause you some intense discomfort. This acceptance is important, because if you continually convince yourself that you have a heart problem you’re going to have a hard time using the strategies outlined below. Talk to your doctor first to make sure that your heart is in the clear. The following are the best ways to prevent hyperventilation: • Drastically Slow Breathing – The tendency is to want to take deeper breaths. You have to fight this desire as best you can, and slow down your breathing

dramatically. Take breaths that last as long as 12 seconds or more. One way is as follows: o Breathe in through your nose slowly for 5 seconds. o Hold for three seconds. o Breathe out through pursed lips for 7 seconds. Doing this will help your body balance its carbon dioxide levels again and should prevent you from further hyperventilating. • Walking – Walking can also be a big help. Exercise at all increase carbon dioxide in your body, and both walking and running can improve breathing efficiency. Many people with panic attacks find it valuable to get up and move whenever possible, and walking is something that should provide some help. • Check Your Clothes and Posture – Once you become more prone to hyperventilation, there are issues that may increase your risk. Tight clothing, for example, or a belt that is squeezing your stomach too tightly may be causing your hyperventilation. Posture may also be a contributing factor. Fixing these can provide some relief. • Paper Bag Breathing – Studies of paper bag breathing are mixed, but there is some sound logic to the idea. Normally when we breathe in we take in extra Co2 that we just expelled. This is important for maintaining the right balance. Breathing into a bag may conceivably improve the levels of carbon dioxide in your body, helping you overcome hyperventilation faster. Never do this if you have a heart problem, and never do this for longer than 10 breaths. • Mental Distraction – Remember, your body wants to breathe normally. Even though some hyperventilation happens against your will, once you’ve noticed hyperventilation you’ll find you have a tendency to make it worse. If you can distract yourself mentally and not think about your breathing as often, you should be able to control the extent of your hyperventilation. Even if you get enough carbon dioxide back into your blood stream it can take a while for your body to get back to normal, which is why the tips above will not always prevent panic attacks or their symptoms. But if you can reduce the extent of your hyperventilation you’ll find that you fear it less, and that is important for overcoming anxiety in the future.

Today’s Spiritual Woman


Breathing Retraining Doctors also recommend that you re-train your body how to breathe. Anxiety makes your body stop its normal breathing pattern, so even if you’re feeling calm and happy you may still be prone to hyperventilation, which ultimately will increase your anxiety and your stress and cause further anxiety problems. There is no clear, scientifically validated way to re-train your body to breathe better, but most experts recommend the following: • Diaphragmatic Breathing - Diaphragmatic breathing is breathing in through the stomach rather than the chest. It’s believed that this method of breathing is less shallow, which should decrease hyperventilation risk. Take 20 minute every day to practice breathing in slowly through your stomach. Try to make sure your stomach expands first and your chest second. Your body should adopt this style of breathing in the future. • Yoga – Those that don’t want to simply learn how to breathe again should consider yoga. Yoga teaches this style of breathing in a way that is more interactive, and the added athletic benefit can be useful for controlling your anxiety. • Aerobic Exercise – Finally, running in general seems to be effective at re-training your body to breathe. It’s unclear how it does this, but since running tends to put you in a more ideal state for breathing, it’s possible that you simply learn how to breathe more efficiently every time you run until you pick it up long after you’ve stopped running. Of course, all of this is for nothing if you can’t control your anxiety. That’s why no matter what you decide to do, you should always partner it with some type of anxiety reduction or prevention strategy.


Heart aches Knots clogging my chest Need for release Hyperventilation




By Gwendolyn Gowing

The iridescent beetle Combining spittle from the mouth Eggs from interior places With excrement from lower regions Rolls on the surface of earth Cementing these elements into a Round ball of potential energy Hidden in a shelter For a future need The beetle encased In a shell of many colors Works to complete a task Wrapped in beauty and silence Thousands of years pass and We continue to celebrate the Task, beauty, and silence The dedication and intention In the iridescent scarab

Today’s Spiritual Woman


Hope and Change for your Relationship

One of the best websites for change. Check out Dr. Kathy’s advice and videos. If you are looking for HOPE and CHANGE in your life, I think this might be one great read….Go to her site at Free Tools, Tips, and Advice to Help You Repair Your Relationship Video 1: Three Easy Steps to Start Fixing Your Marriage (3m 48s) Dr. Kathy Nickerson gives a quick talk on how to start changing your relationship today. In just three easy steps, you can stop the fighting at home, reduce the tension between you, and start to feel better. detailpage&v=bdKmmsvWof0

Video 2: The 7 Deadly Relationship Sins (13m 27s) Orange County Marriage Counseling - Dr. Kathy Nickerson reviews the seven things we all do in our relationships that cause our partners to shut down and turn off. By watching this video, you can learn what these seven deadly sins are, how to avoid them, and what you can do instead. Your relationship will be significantly better by swapping out the “poison” behaviors for their healthy alternatives. pySRfKgQzk



Video 3: The Calming Conversation I’m working on this one right now and I will upload it very soon! Until then, please enjoy the handout that goes with the video. untitled - KN-CalmingConv.pdf

KN-RelationshipHouse - KN-RelationshipHouse.pdf


Relationship “House” From many studies of successfully married couples, we know that in order to repair your relationship, there are three essential changes to be made: 1. We must increase your positive emotions overall 2. We must decrease the negative emotions you have during disagreements 3. We must increase the positive emotions and repair efforts made during a disagreement We accomplish these three changes by rebuilding seven aspects of your relationship “house.” We rebuild from the ground up! So begin at the foundation of the house to read through the seven steps of relationship repair.

Step 1 - The Foundation – Reconnection - Getting to know each other again - Devoting time to the relationship, Friendship building activities - Increasing positivity, Healing begins Step 2 - The Walls – Shared Fondness and Admiration - Expressing appreciation - Increasing gratitude and positive communication - Praising your partner for doing well - Encouraging relationship enhancing thoughts - Expressing fondness and admiration in everyday life

Step 6 - The Windows – Creating Shared Meaning - Establishing connection rituals - Establishing goals and plans - Sharing dreams, ideas, values - Honoring each other Step 7 - The Roof – Relapse Prevention - Thanksgiving and appreciation - Spending time together (magic five 30-minute segments) - Emotional Communication - Using solid repair strategies - Markers of divorce are all reduced

Step 3 - The Insulation – Deepening the Connection - Building an emotional bank account - Working as a team - Turning towards each other, as opposed to turning away - Allowing your partner to influence you Step 4 - The Doors – Positive Sentiment Override - Managing and reducing stress - Challenging distress maintaining thoughts - Negotiating power - Starting rituals of connection - Processing failed bids for connection




Step 5 - The Nuts and Bolts – Conflict Management and Regulation - Differentiating solvable problems from perpetual problems - Catching the 4 Horsemen, Softening the start-up - Structured listening; communicating without blame - Learning to repair and soothe - Accepting influence - Compromising and understanding triggers - Dialoguing peacefully about perpetual problems 1 of 2

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Copyright © 2010 - Dr. Kathy Nickerson – – 949.222.6688

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Video 4: The Relationship House I’m planning to start this as soon as video 3 is done. Until then, please enjoy the handout that goes with the video.

Today’s Spiritual Woman



Fine Weather for Freedom By Catharine Otto

I wake up and see The brazenly blue sky, the lavish yellow sun, I feel the halcyon breeze, And I think, How bitter the irony, how they mock me, What brilliant beauty for such a day of death! Then I correct myself: No, A lovely day for freeing someone. It’s fine weather today, fine weather for setting a soul and spirit free. As she gets out of the car and looks at the beautiful sky, I think, Does she know she’ll never see it again? At least not in this life? At first I hurry her, Eager to get the awful deed done Before I lose courage, But then I check myself, giving her a chance to cherish the world. Little girl, the beauty outside only reflects the soul Inside of you about to let go-Ready to soar into the wind and sky, To fly into the firmament high! When the injection reaches your heart to suppress it, I can sense the swift, second long shock inside you— The longest second of my life— And I just sink down over your head and softly weep, As you slide down oh so gracefully and gently, and I know, There she goes…. Very soon I can tell you’re just not in your body at all, But the absolute calm on your face and body reassures me. Perhaps your soul passing through me has calmed me, for my sobs stop, To my surprise, almost as fast as they came. I sense peace all around me, permeating the air. All day long afterwards I feel like you’re whispering in my ear, “I’m free, Mommy, I’m free! Be happy, Mommy! Be Happy!” At the end of the evening, unbelievable to me, I dance, knowing I have your blessing-As I can feel your spirit jumping joyfully with me-And then I crafted this poem as a tribute to your life and its passing. Yes, my love, it’s a fine day for setting you free, Just as beautiful as you. Today’s Spiritual Woman


The Road Ever Goes On By Matthew Sieren

Hello Gentle and Gentile Readers,


As I have finalized my transportation out of the country, I sense that it’s time to begin my updates. In lieu of packing lists and the logistics of my preparation, I wanted to take some time to talk about the where and why of this new journey. Without exception, those are the first two questions that I’m asked and, because of their simplicity, are normally the most difficult to answer. For the ‘where’, I’ve taken to simply saying Europe and then moving directly to the barrage of questions which further reduces the scale to more easily digestible blocks of time. I have plans such as walking the Camino de Santiago, stays in Berlin and Madrid and roaming the Baltics, but I’m open to revision. I sense that to others my answers sound vague and noncommittal. However, it is the vagueness, the unscripted and the invitation of serendipity into this journey to which I am fully committing myself. The where, in all of its detailed and glorious specificity, will sort itself out as I move forward. As to the ‘why’, I am most assuredly not going on vacation. Vacations tend to be an escape from life; something to break up a routine or a release valve to keep the pressure from building to a critical mass. This, somewhat like a jailbreak, is an escape to life. After returning 5 years ago, I found it incredibly difficult to fall back into sync with the world from which I had stepped away. It was like putting on your favorite shirt only to realize that it doesn’t quite fit anymore. My paradigm, the way I viewed the world, had shifted and I was attempting to live like it hadn’t. It was when I finally reached this point of understanding that I seriously began to think about leaving again. Even now, after all of this time, it’s still difficult to pinpoint what draws me to the road. The mess of emotions that are tied up in that question have constantly occupied my thoughts. A graybeard, hippie friend of mine succinctly said that once you’ve lived outside of the box, it’s difficult to live back inside of the box. To paraphrase Marvin Bell, that is not correct, exactly. It is correct, inexactly. With each trip, each chance meeting, each food tasted, each foreign sunset and each horizon crossed the box of my world grows. I see not only different parts of the world, but different parts of myself and sometimes I come to understand both a bit better. I firmly believe that you don’t find yourself on the road because at every moment we carry everything that we are. Rather, we find out about ourselves. We learn weaknesses and strengths that surprise us in equal measure. As with all simple questions, the complex expositions and nuanced reasons create the lens by which we can see our own simple answers. My ‘why’ is that I travel because it makes me better. I look forward to sharing this adventure with you folks. I may see some of you out there and I hope that when we meet you’ll be kind enough to buy a bedraggled wanderer a drink. Or some cake. Or just palm me some credit is good.

Be safe, Matthew MASABI

Teaching Literacy in a Global Society The Big Book of Reading Authored by Vye Carlile Ph.D.

Teaching Literacy in a Global Society is an informational text that will guide the reader to understand the nuances of teaching reading. It serves as a general guide to the many components involved in teaching and learning to read. Publication Date: Apr 25 2012 ISBN/EAN13: 1469906406 / 9781469906409 Page Count: 164 Binding Type: US Trade Paper Trim Size: 6" x 9" Language: English Color: Black and White Related Categories: Education / Teaching Methods & Materials / Reading

69 List Price: $24.99

About the author: Vye Carlile is a veteran teacher who secretly loves to read picture books in her spare time! Dr. Carlile has over 38-years of teaching every grade except for 2nd. Her unique style of making reading appealing to even the most uninterested potential reader is reflected in her many awards, including Salem’s Crystal Apple Award. She teaches with enthusiasm and a special nod to all the intelligences - not just the auditory and verbal so often the only way school is experienced. Dr. Carlile is not only a reader, teacher, and counselor, she is also a writer. Past editor of Today’s Spiritual Woman, she also has written five children’s books and one novel. In her spare time she travels, stalks her sons on Facebook, and spreads art therapy throughout her community.

Today’s Spiritual Woman

Low Tide T.C. Spencer – 9/13/08

I opened the window tonight the darkness within and the three-story drop beckoning me to the edge of sanity. The ocean’s roar filled my ears, its soothing song reassuring me that I could still hear. The smell and taste of the salt air filled my senses, reminding me that I could still sense reality. The wind came to me and stroked my face, and I remembered how to feel.


The full moon rose lighting up the sand and the waves almost as clear as day and showed me how to see. So although the fog continues to blow past and my mind is as murky as the deep, I know that I still live.


Friedemann Wulff-Woesten, ladybug

Lady Bug You came, When the trees began their budding. You came, With the Spring to start your buzzing. When you came, There was nothing I could offer... But a wink and a nudge. After landing on my hand, To become my Lady Bug. Spring sprung... And you became my one Lady Bug. Spring sprung... And you were there to bring me your luck. Spring sprung... With your dotted wings a flutter, Showing me your bright color. You came, When the trees began their budding. You came,

With the Spring to start your buzzing. And when you came, There was nothing I could offer... But a wink and a nudge. After landing on my hand, To become my Lady Bug. Spring sprung... And you became my one Lady Bug. Spring sprung... And you were there to bring me your luck. Spring sprung... With your dotted wings a flutter, Showing me your bright color. Spring sprung... And you became my one Lady Bug. Spring sprung... And you were there to bring me your luck. Spring sprung... With your dotted wings a flutter, Showing me your bright color. Leaving me to feel you're my Lady Bug. Lawrence S. Pertillar

Today’s Spiritual Woman




Some healthy facts about your daily walk~


1- A daily 30 minute walk reduces bad cholesterol (LDL) and increases good cholesterol (HDL). 2- It prevents osteoporosis, heart attacks and normalizes blood pressure. 3- It reduces blood sugars in diabetic patients. 4- Walking helps to maintain healthy body weight. 5- A daily walk is necessary for arthritis patients to prevent stiff joints.

Today’s Spiritual Woman

Spring Issue 2013 of Today’s Spiritual Woman is a product of M.A.S.A.B.I. PO Box 2663; Salem, OR 97308


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