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May all your wishes be granted this coming year.
May you and your loved ones know Health, Wealth, and Happiness.
Monday, December 31, 2007
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
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May all your wishes be granted this coming year.
May you and your loved ones know Health, Wealth, and Happiness.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
More About Great Pine and Winter Solstice and Greetings from Grandmother Pa'Ris'Ha
This Saturday, I and my ceremonial family will gather with friends and family to celebrate the Great Pine Ceremony at our Ceremonial Homegrounds in southeastern Ohio.
On this longest night in the year, there is one moment when all the Universe pauses, at the precise time of the Winter Solstice. (This year it will be Dec. 22, 1:08 am).
At this moment, there is a tone, a frequency, as a signal, released by the Evergreen Trees. This signal travels deep into the Mother (Earth Mother) to awaken the new growth that will come in the spring. It also awakens the sap running through the trees.
In this longest night, the miracle of new life takes place as it has for eons. The Awakening. In the "dead" of winter, Life sends forth a call through the Evergreens - those Tree People who always remain green, who never shed their leaves.
Is it no wonder that humankind's many religions have chosen this particular time to celebrate Holy Days? How appropriate!
We celebrate Life and New Beginnings in many ways. But the message remains the same. For we are One. One Voice. One People. One Seed. One with all forms of Creation on this planet and throughout the Universe. One.
In the words of one of my sisters, "The Trees give us the air we need to live, we in turn give it the air it needs to breathe. It is the Tree Of Life. Its leaves have the same DNA as humans. We are close relations, dependent on each other."
If you are in the area and can join us for this celebration, you are most welcome! Come to Friendship Village, 49862 Batesville Rd., Summerfield, Ohio 43788. For information call 740-838-4033.
-Deb
-Deb
from Grandmother Pa'Ris'Ha (visit http://www.parishaonline.com/)
Great Pine Moon and Winter Solstice
May this season be all that you ask for, and allow love to be in all you do. Hold all here holding the center and home fires in your light and connect to this ceremony, before you are dazed by the commercials and consumers craze that over shadows most at this time. Stuff will not fill the empty place that this holy time speaks for. Your gift of time and prayers, being present and holding all in love will cure anything and fill all with lights!
May this season be all that you ask for, and allow love to be in all you do. Hold all here holding the center and home fires in your light and connect to this ceremony, before you are dazed by the commercials and consumers craze that over shadows most at this time. Stuff will not fill the empty place that this holy time speaks for. Your gift of time and prayers, being present and holding all in love will cure anything and fill all with lights!
Give celebration for the caring people at our ceremonial home base and grounds who come to this time in traditional celebration and holds the moment for us all. Earth is talking along with all of nature and there is more than Grandfather Pine moving this season.....be clear in mind and heart.
Happy Holidays from all of us here at home!
©2008 Deborah Adler. All rights reserved.
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Winter Solstice and Celebrating "Great Pine Ceremony"
As the Winter Solstice approaches, December 22nd at 1:08 am, I am again in a time of preparation to celebrate traditionally in the way of my Grandmother's People, the T'saligi, the Ceremony of Great Pine.
Let me share this sacred time with you, through the words of my Elder, Grandmother Pa'Ris'Ha:
"Great Pine is the Trusted and the Guardian of the Creations of the Forest and her Children. They are like our Chiefs, who are the same for Human Relations. As the moment of the Winter Solstice arrives, Mother Earth pauses a second and sighs a sound of release and Grandfather Pine picks up the service she requires in this time. While all outer impressions say the Forest is silent and barren, only the ones with ears to see and eyes to hear [Editor’s note: yes, she did mean ears to see and eyes to hear (as this is truly how we perceive…] can hear the birthing of the coming Spring in these first movements of Winter!
"The sap or life source of the Pine Trees begins at the moment of the shift, the pause of motion, Mother's sigh of rest and the shortest day when we are the farthest away from Nunda - The Sun - when the longest night of the Cycle begins. Such a powerful time!
"Out of the day of greater darkness, we are given the new life of Spring and birth. The Great Pines awaken the Forest to the upcoming days when all will come forth with their new garments of bright colors and flora. The Silence of Winter is loud and clear.
"It is a time for us to show our love and consideration. We make our determinations of what we want to accomplish with this new Cycle. Our time of introspection is a time of trustworthiness. A time of forgiveness. A time of healing. A time to make right relationships. We spend time making the Pahos, prayer ornaments - an ornament that has the vision we are seeking to fulfill. Each color and shape has purpose and direction. It is the object of our intentions - the object of our celebration for all that has been and is yet to come."
©2001 Pa’Ris’Ha. All rights reserved
(for more about Grandmother, visit www.parishaonline.com)
May all my friends and family know the joy and peace of this season.
Love
Deb
Let me share this sacred time with you, through the words of my Elder, Grandmother Pa'Ris'Ha:
"Great Pine is the Trusted and the Guardian of the Creations of the Forest and her Children. They are like our Chiefs, who are the same for Human Relations. As the moment of the Winter Solstice arrives, Mother Earth pauses a second and sighs a sound of release and Grandfather Pine picks up the service she requires in this time. While all outer impressions say the Forest is silent and barren, only the ones with ears to see and eyes to hear [Editor’s note: yes, she did mean ears to see and eyes to hear (as this is truly how we perceive…] can hear the birthing of the coming Spring in these first movements of Winter!
"The sap or life source of the Pine Trees begins at the moment of the shift, the pause of motion, Mother's sigh of rest and the shortest day when we are the farthest away from Nunda - The Sun - when the longest night of the Cycle begins. Such a powerful time!
"Out of the day of greater darkness, we are given the new life of Spring and birth. The Great Pines awaken the Forest to the upcoming days when all will come forth with their new garments of bright colors and flora. The Silence of Winter is loud and clear.
"It is a time for us to show our love and consideration. We make our determinations of what we want to accomplish with this new Cycle. Our time of introspection is a time of trustworthiness. A time of forgiveness. A time of healing. A time to make right relationships. We spend time making the Pahos, prayer ornaments - an ornament that has the vision we are seeking to fulfill. Each color and shape has purpose and direction. It is the object of our intentions - the object of our celebration for all that has been and is yet to come."
©2001 Pa’Ris’Ha. All rights reserved
(for more about Grandmother, visit www.parishaonline.com)
May all my friends and family know the joy and peace of this season.
Love
Deb
©2008 Deborah Adler. All rights reserved.
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Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Diversifying into "Subject Blogs"
Ok, it's official. I'm going to be organizing myself into 4 blogs covering different interests and subject matter. That way I can optimize them and make sure the most people know how to find the information I'm offering!
So I've been busy learning about search engine optimization and search engine marketing, as well as then putting that to use for the Learning Center for Human Development, and other non-profit organiztions and for-profit businesses I'm involved in.
Love the learning process - especially with a coach present to guide you through!
Speaking of coaching and business, you can take part in an interactive Business Success Coaching and Financial Literacy Call every Thursday at 4:30 Eastern Standard Time:
1-212-461-5860, pin number: 8734#
This call is conducted by Pa'Ris'Ha and members of the Learning Center for Human Development Speakers Team.
Looking for scientific discourse of spiritual principles? Try our Writer's Academy Book Review Call on Tuesdays at 4:30 pm Eastern Standard Time. This call is hosted by the Writer's Academy Team and Pa'Ris'Ha. We are currently studying and discussing Dr. Fred Alan Wolf's book "Matter Into Feeling." Venture into the realm of quantum physics and creating your own reality. This is practical every-day work anyone can - must do - to improve their lives. No pie-in-the-sky or "woo-woo" here .. so check it out!
More later. Got links to put in and 3 more blogs to develop!
Later
Deb
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So I've been busy learning about search engine optimization and search engine marketing, as well as then putting that to use for the Learning Center for Human Development, and other non-profit organiztions and for-profit businesses I'm involved in.
Love the learning process - especially with a coach present to guide you through!
Speaking of coaching and business, you can take part in an interactive Business Success Coaching and Financial Literacy Call every Thursday at 4:30 Eastern Standard Time:
1-212-461-5860, pin number: 8734#
This call is conducted by Pa'Ris'Ha and members of the Learning Center for Human Development Speakers Team.
Looking for scientific discourse of spiritual principles? Try our Writer's Academy Book Review Call on Tuesdays at 4:30 pm Eastern Standard Time. This call is hosted by the Writer's Academy Team and Pa'Ris'Ha. We are currently studying and discussing Dr. Fred Alan Wolf's book "Matter Into Feeling." Venture into the realm of quantum physics and creating your own reality. This is practical every-day work anyone can - must do - to improve their lives. No pie-in-the-sky or "woo-woo" here .. so check it out!
More later. Got links to put in and 3 more blogs to develop!
Later
Deb
©2008 Deborah Adler. All rights reserved.
please vote for this article at Stumble, Digg, Furl, Del.icio.us, and Facebook. Thanks!
Member of the Boxxet Network of Blogs, Videos and Photos
Monday, November 26, 2007
Gratitude Month and Thanksgiving
It’s “Gratitude Month” in the recovery rooms of one of the Twelve Step Programs. Nice correlation to Thanksgiving. I like it because it’s the same month as my sobriety anniversary (see Nov 16, 2007 post).
When I first got to recovery, one of my first sponsors instructed me to introduce myself as a “grateful recovering alcoholic.” That sort of pissed me off. I wasn’t grateful to be an alcoholic. I wasn’t grateful about much of anything in the beginning. I had lost my best friend (alcohol). Maybe I was going to live – but I didn’t see how I was ever going to enjoy it!
Today, I have experienced the joys of sobriety and the bountiful gifts that have come to me not only from not drinking, but as the result of working on my spiritual growth to free myself of the bonds of addictive behaviors and patterns.
Yes, today I can honestly say I am grateful to be a recovered alcoholic, because without having gone through addiction, I would not have come to a program of recovery. First of all, I would have been dead a long time ago. Today I am alive and enjoying life – not because I’m living on some sort of pink cloud, but because I have tools for coping with life as it comes. And let’s face it, life comes in many different forms. Some days it's pretty and some days it's ugly. Some days it makes sense and some days it defies reason or logic. But no matter what “face” life wears today I don’t have to anesthetize myself to get through it. I don’t have to run today because I don’t want to feel, or because I’m afraid, or angry, or just don’t care. Today I can take what comes and deal with it head on. That’s freedom!
See, serenity isn’t about being “zoned out” on some chant or mantra or Pollyanna view of things that ignores what’s going on all around you. Serenity is about being the eye of the hurricane. It’s about maintaining one’s balance and being in harmony with the grander scheme of things, while all around you on the local scene chaos reigns.
“Grounded.” “Centered.” Those are good descriptors.
The key is “Tuned In” to a Truth that moves, breathes, lives and has its Being in and through us. It’s knowing that we do not live apart from the All That Is, but as a part of it. It’s knowing that we are not separate from anything nor anyone around us. They are reflections to us, of us, through which we can measure our growth and our relationship with our Self.
Yes, today I’m grateful to be a recovered alcoholic, because I could not have written that last passage without having made the passage from killing myself to “living myself.”
I am who I am because of what I have come through. All of it. There is no part of what I have experienced in my journey towards today that if one minute piece of it were left out or altered, I would be the same person I am.
Today, who I am still needs polishing – but damn I’ve cleaned up nice! I’ve come a long way. It’s absolutely essential that we credit ourselves with our progress. Alcoholic or not.
So in this “season” of Thanksgiving, yes I have much to be grateful for. So much that I hope that I practice gratitude every day of the year, not just on “holidays” or “special months.”
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When I first got to recovery, one of my first sponsors instructed me to introduce myself as a “grateful recovering alcoholic.” That sort of pissed me off. I wasn’t grateful to be an alcoholic. I wasn’t grateful about much of anything in the beginning. I had lost my best friend (alcohol). Maybe I was going to live – but I didn’t see how I was ever going to enjoy it!
Today, I have experienced the joys of sobriety and the bountiful gifts that have come to me not only from not drinking, but as the result of working on my spiritual growth to free myself of the bonds of addictive behaviors and patterns.
Yes, today I can honestly say I am grateful to be a recovered alcoholic, because without having gone through addiction, I would not have come to a program of recovery. First of all, I would have been dead a long time ago. Today I am alive and enjoying life – not because I’m living on some sort of pink cloud, but because I have tools for coping with life as it comes. And let’s face it, life comes in many different forms. Some days it's pretty and some days it's ugly. Some days it makes sense and some days it defies reason or logic. But no matter what “face” life wears today I don’t have to anesthetize myself to get through it. I don’t have to run today because I don’t want to feel, or because I’m afraid, or angry, or just don’t care. Today I can take what comes and deal with it head on. That’s freedom!
See, serenity isn’t about being “zoned out” on some chant or mantra or Pollyanna view of things that ignores what’s going on all around you. Serenity is about being the eye of the hurricane. It’s about maintaining one’s balance and being in harmony with the grander scheme of things, while all around you on the local scene chaos reigns.
“Grounded.” “Centered.” Those are good descriptors.
The key is “Tuned In” to a Truth that moves, breathes, lives and has its Being in and through us. It’s knowing that we do not live apart from the All That Is, but as a part of it. It’s knowing that we are not separate from anything nor anyone around us. They are reflections to us, of us, through which we can measure our growth and our relationship with our Self.
Yes, today I’m grateful to be a recovered alcoholic, because I could not have written that last passage without having made the passage from killing myself to “living myself.”
I am who I am because of what I have come through. All of it. There is no part of what I have experienced in my journey towards today that if one minute piece of it were left out or altered, I would be the same person I am.
Today, who I am still needs polishing – but damn I’ve cleaned up nice! I’ve come a long way. It’s absolutely essential that we credit ourselves with our progress. Alcoholic or not.
So in this “season” of Thanksgiving, yes I have much to be grateful for. So much that I hope that I practice gratitude every day of the year, not just on “holidays” or “special months.”
©2008 Deborah Adler. All rights reserved.
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One Blog or Four Blogs? That is the Question!
Writing a personal blog can be a challenge, particularly if you have a wide variety of interests. When I first began writing this Blog, I was sort of “free-falling” in terms of what I wrote about. Each entry depended on what I was thinking, something I might have observed, or whatever.
I’ve come to realize through this process that I actually have 4 major areas of interest to write about:
Quantum Nutwati
Living addictions free
Glbt issues
Personal diary
So I began to wonder whether or not I should actually set up 4 different Blogs, in order to best promote them on the internet as make them most palatable for people looking for special interests and not an eclectic approach.
I’m not sure I’ve figured out the definitive answer, but I’m going to utilize the titles feature in order help direct reader’s interest to find those stories they’re interested in and avoid those they are not.
Stay tuned.
Deb
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I’ve come to realize through this process that I actually have 4 major areas of interest to write about:
Quantum Nutwati
Living addictions free
Glbt issues
Personal diary
So I began to wonder whether or not I should actually set up 4 different Blogs, in order to best promote them on the internet as make them most palatable for people looking for special interests and not an eclectic approach.
I’m not sure I’ve figured out the definitive answer, but I’m going to utilize the titles feature in order help direct reader’s interest to find those stories they’re interested in and avoid those they are not.
Stay tuned.
Deb
©2008 Deborah Adler. All rights reserved.
please vote for this article at Stumble, Digg, Furl, Del.icio.us, and Facebook. Thanks!
Member of the Boxxet Network of Blogs, Videos and Photos
Friday, November 16, 2007
Celebrating a Sobriety Anniversary
I say this not to brag or set myself up on a pedestal, nor for any other reason but to absolutely glorify the gift and in appreciation that today I celebrate 28 years of continuous sobriety from alcohol.
“How did you do that?” some recovery friends will ask me later. “One day at a time,” is the standard reply.
Actually, in the beginning it was more like “one moment at a time.” In my recently published book, No Change, No Gain – It’s All About Choices (which is a take-off on the saying “no pain no gain”) I go into some detail about what it took in those early days, weeks, months and years to get and stay sober.
(see http://silverstreammusic.tripod.com/id38.html To Order My Book, OR go to
http://www.debadler.com/ and click on "Order Deb's New Book" from main menu.)
The bottom line is, it was no picnic. In the beginning I wanted to crawl out of my skin. But I wanted sobriety more than I wanted death, and I had a wonderful network of supportive women, and men, who had walked the road before me, put out their hands and said, “Walk these steps with me. I made it. You can.”
I balked at first, but once I determined that I was “sick and tired of being sick and tired,” that I was exhausted from bumping into myself, no matter how much I tried to place the problems I was experiencing everywhere but me; once I realized that every time I went up against alcohol it won, I was ready to accept a new way of life.
Not that I stepped into recovery to “transform myself.” I just wanted to stop drinking. Well, I didn’t really want to stop drinking, but clearly the “drink ‘til you can’t feel” modus operandi of coping with life on life’s terms wasn’t working.
There are no words to describe what I’ve gotten down through the years of following a very simple path, cultivated by those who have gone before me. The rewards of sobriety are endless.
They don’t come without a little homework. Spiritual Homework. Because to kick addictions, one has to recognize patterns that set up certain bio-chemical sequences in our brain cells, and learn to alter those sequences through altering our behaviors.
In the beginning, it was a matter of trusting that someone else might have more experience that I have, and being willing to accept that on faith – to follow someone besides myself. Today, 28 years later, as a student of quantum physics and Nuwati healing, I have a much greater understanding of the true nature of the addictive process. Back then, I was too much a player in the drama to be able to see anything other than my own limited experience.
On my first anniversary, sober friends threw me a party. We had food, a cake, music, dancing, great fellowship – all without alcohol. It was great! We made a point, that circle of friends I had grown to love, of celebrating people’s anniversaries. That circle of friends cut across age, race, sex and sexual orientation, professionals, blue collar, trades people, householders - every socio-economic-cultural group was represented. I learned how to celebrate life with the help of these people. Because our lives depended on it.
My life has been rich, full and blessed. It’s had its challenges. Life is life - an adventure or a curse, depending on how you look at it. I’ve gained tools for coping and friends who help me to remember to “pick up those tools” when life’s challenges hit.
I spend time around each anniversary calling some of that original circle, or emailing them, just to express my appreciation for what the have come to mean in my life today. And I’ll go to a gathering of recovering friends today, announce my anniversary, and we’ll all applaud. It’s not so much for the recognition, as to let the new person know that that seemingly long road to recovery is possible. Another way to show “celebration.”
Most importantly, today I’m not a slave to a substance and I don’t have to be a slave to habitual behaviors either. It’s All About Choices. Today I celebrate my choices. That's Freedom!
Deb
please vote for this article at Stumble, Digg, Furl, Del.icio.us, and Facebook. Thanks!
Member of the Boxxet Network of Blogs, Videos and Photos
“How did you do that?” some recovery friends will ask me later. “One day at a time,” is the standard reply.
Actually, in the beginning it was more like “one moment at a time.” In my recently published book, No Change, No Gain – It’s All About Choices (which is a take-off on the saying “no pain no gain”) I go into some detail about what it took in those early days, weeks, months and years to get and stay sober.
(see http://silverstreammusic.tripod.com/id38.html To Order My Book, OR go to
http://www.debadler.com/ and click on "Order Deb's New Book" from main menu.)
The bottom line is, it was no picnic. In the beginning I wanted to crawl out of my skin. But I wanted sobriety more than I wanted death, and I had a wonderful network of supportive women, and men, who had walked the road before me, put out their hands and said, “Walk these steps with me. I made it. You can.”
I balked at first, but once I determined that I was “sick and tired of being sick and tired,” that I was exhausted from bumping into myself, no matter how much I tried to place the problems I was experiencing everywhere but me; once I realized that every time I went up against alcohol it won, I was ready to accept a new way of life.
Not that I stepped into recovery to “transform myself.” I just wanted to stop drinking. Well, I didn’t really want to stop drinking, but clearly the “drink ‘til you can’t feel” modus operandi of coping with life on life’s terms wasn’t working.
There are no words to describe what I’ve gotten down through the years of following a very simple path, cultivated by those who have gone before me. The rewards of sobriety are endless.
They don’t come without a little homework. Spiritual Homework. Because to kick addictions, one has to recognize patterns that set up certain bio-chemical sequences in our brain cells, and learn to alter those sequences through altering our behaviors.
In the beginning, it was a matter of trusting that someone else might have more experience that I have, and being willing to accept that on faith – to follow someone besides myself. Today, 28 years later, as a student of quantum physics and Nuwati healing, I have a much greater understanding of the true nature of the addictive process. Back then, I was too much a player in the drama to be able to see anything other than my own limited experience.
On my first anniversary, sober friends threw me a party. We had food, a cake, music, dancing, great fellowship – all without alcohol. It was great! We made a point, that circle of friends I had grown to love, of celebrating people’s anniversaries. That circle of friends cut across age, race, sex and sexual orientation, professionals, blue collar, trades people, householders - every socio-economic-cultural group was represented. I learned how to celebrate life with the help of these people. Because our lives depended on it.
My life has been rich, full and blessed. It’s had its challenges. Life is life - an adventure or a curse, depending on how you look at it. I’ve gained tools for coping and friends who help me to remember to “pick up those tools” when life’s challenges hit.
I spend time around each anniversary calling some of that original circle, or emailing them, just to express my appreciation for what the have come to mean in my life today. And I’ll go to a gathering of recovering friends today, announce my anniversary, and we’ll all applaud. It’s not so much for the recognition, as to let the new person know that that seemingly long road to recovery is possible. Another way to show “celebration.”
Most importantly, today I’m not a slave to a substance and I don’t have to be a slave to habitual behaviors either. It’s All About Choices. Today I celebrate my choices. That's Freedom!
Deb
©2008 Deborah Adler. All rights reserved.
please vote for this article at Stumble, Digg, Furl, Del.icio.us, and Facebook. Thanks!
Member of the Boxxet Network of Blogs, Videos and Photos
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Remembering A Warrior
I'm one of many caretakers at Friendship Village International Retreat and Training Center, nestled on 82 beautiful rolling acres in southeastern Ohio. We have dogs and cats and horses and one Rhode Island Red hen and a guinea hen. Yesterday, one of our beloved dogs, a little white fluffy ball of energy with a heart larger than life, Max, died after being hit by a truck.
In the tradition of my Grandmother's people, there are no coincidences, and I know that there is work he's doing now "on the other side." Whenever we had vision quests, he would make the rounds of people out on the land, often sleeping just a little ways away so as not to disturb someone but definitely keeping watch. He was always there during ceremonies and celebrations, as well as our building weekends. Always the Companion, always the Guardian. Wherever the people (his family) were, he would come walking or running up to be part of it all. He was/is a small but mighty warrior.
I wrote this just after finding out:
Maxie just did give-away. Apparently he and Flash were on the road when a school bus and then a truck came by, and the truck hit him. Martha and Helen were up there when it happened. The woman who drove the truck came back. They said she was crying.
Mary Lois and I had gone into Caldwell just this morning and pulled in at Sunny Side on the way back. Maxie came out from his house behind the Admin Building, just before we were ready to leave.
He just stood there looking at the truck, like he always does, as though to say “Are you going? Can you stay?”
I walked back and nuzzled him, rubbed his underbelly like I always do. I kissed him and said we’d be back later. He walked up alongside the truck and then watched drive away as he always does.
I’m so glad I took that time with him. I’m so glad for every time I’ve stopped to nuzzle him and rub his belly and take his face into my hands and call him “my little buddy.”
I’m so glad it was a beautiful sunny fall day for his last day here, and that he was hanging out with Flash. It already feels like sunset, although that’s probably an hour or so away yet. Even the timing seems perfect - part of a much larger picture.
"It’s a good day to die" is what the Apache say when they greet their day in the morning. He’ll be on the land now always. His spirit will move with us to Arizona, and he’ll be here too.
I'll watch for him in the winds.
October 29, 2007
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In the tradition of my Grandmother's people, there are no coincidences, and I know that there is work he's doing now "on the other side." Whenever we had vision quests, he would make the rounds of people out on the land, often sleeping just a little ways away so as not to disturb someone but definitely keeping watch. He was always there during ceremonies and celebrations, as well as our building weekends. Always the Companion, always the Guardian. Wherever the people (his family) were, he would come walking or running up to be part of it all. He was/is a small but mighty warrior.
I wrote this just after finding out:
Maxie just did give-away. Apparently he and Flash were on the road when a school bus and then a truck came by, and the truck hit him. Martha and Helen were up there when it happened. The woman who drove the truck came back. They said she was crying.
Mary Lois and I had gone into Caldwell just this morning and pulled in at Sunny Side on the way back. Maxie came out from his house behind the Admin Building, just before we were ready to leave.
He just stood there looking at the truck, like he always does, as though to say “Are you going? Can you stay?”
I walked back and nuzzled him, rubbed his underbelly like I always do. I kissed him and said we’d be back later. He walked up alongside the truck and then watched drive away as he always does.
I’m so glad I took that time with him. I’m so glad for every time I’ve stopped to nuzzle him and rub his belly and take his face into my hands and call him “my little buddy.”
I’m so glad it was a beautiful sunny fall day for his last day here, and that he was hanging out with Flash. It already feels like sunset, although that’s probably an hour or so away yet. Even the timing seems perfect - part of a much larger picture.
"It’s a good day to die" is what the Apache say when they greet their day in the morning. He’ll be on the land now always. His spirit will move with us to Arizona, and he’ll be here too.
I'll watch for him in the winds.
October 29, 2007
©2008 Deborah Adler. All rights reserved.
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Nov 1st: On the Anniversary of My Mother's Death
Ethel Irene Kugler was born in Easton Pennsylvania on January 30th, 1909. (Or maybe it was the 28th - I could never remember because my parents' anniversary was Sept 28th, and sometimes I got the numbers mixed up when I was trying to remember which date was which.)
Her father made gold fillings until they started using other materials, then I guess things got kind of tough for them. He died when I was 5 years old. "Pop-Pop" I called him. Her mother raised three daughters, of which Ethel, my mother, was the youngest, "The baby."
I don't know a whole lot about how she grew up - other than she came through the Great Depression, and talked occasionally about how her and other kids would chew on still soft tarmac to clean their teeth. (Couldn't have been for the taste).
She was a Registered Nurse, but it wasn't until I was visiting my Aunt Gladys in my late twenties that I discovered the story of how she got there. My mother had been very sickly as a young girl, and apparently there was some doubt at one point as to whether or not she would live while in high school. She wanted to become a nurse and applied for, and won a scholarship to the local college. Her parents wouldn't let her accept the award because they were poor and couldn't pay for the room and board and incidental expenses. So she later went to work at the local department store, Laubach's, in downtown Easton and saved up her money until she could go to school and fulfill her dream. The doctor who had attended her in her health crisis wrote a glowing recommendation. I had no idea until that day when my Aunt shared the story of what a fighter my mom was.
My mom was raised by her oldest sister, Grace, who quit school at the 8th grade to take care of the household because of their mother's failing health. She was a woman wise beyond any educated person I've ever met and my mother looked to her as her mother, really. She often said "Grace raised me."
Ethel Irene Kugler was a supervising nurse when she met a dashing young intern, Philip Adler DO, who bet her a hot fudge sundae that he could drive her to an appointment that she was late for and get her there on time in his model-something Ford. She took the bet, he got her there, they got the hot fudge sundaes and later got married. Hot fudge sundaes remained a favorite desert. (Incidentally, because of the rotation he was on at the time, on the floor where she worked, they used to tell everyone that they met in the "V.D. Clinic.")
Again, it was many years later that I learned about my mother's courage and fortitude, because to look at her you might think she was frail. She was certainly a gentle being. She loved animals and was always bringing in stray critters who were wounded or lost or abandoned by their mothers. But to marry the man she loved took some bravado. He was 16 years her junior. He was from an orthodox-Jewish family, she was Lutheran. His family declared him "dead" by holding the traditional week-long period of mourning for him, even though my Mother converted to Judaism to try to appease them.
(She expressed regret for that years later when I shared with her that I had secretly been baptized at an interdenominational church I joined in my first year of college. I believe it relieved some guilt she felt for not being able to bring me up in a "Faith" because they pretty much dropped any formal religious practices and affiliations. My sharing that with her brought her comfort.)
I didn't learn resentment from her about this situation. If I asked about Dad's family she always said "Well, maybe we'll talk about it some day." Those relatives were always "Too far away" to visit when I would ask. I mean, it took 2 days of driving to get to Easton from Detroit. For a while it seems, I thought New York was west of Chicago, as a kid, because I couldn't imagine where "too far away" really was.
She was 42 years old when she gave birth to me, a pregnancy she had to take DES for in order to retain it full term and not lose me. That was a standard drug therapy then, and years later when I faced the possibility of cervical cancer (along with numerous other former DES babies) Mom expressed guilt as to having taken the drug.
"Are you kidding?" I told her from my hospital bed, "I wouldn't be here if you hadn't!" I'm not sure that helped, but I didn't have cancer, so hopefully her guilt abated.
Because youthful looks ran in her side of the family, I really didn’t get as a kid how old my mother was in comparison to the other kids' moms. She became an Assistant Girl Scout Leader and stayed active with us through High School. She did have problems with severe arthritis that prevented her from some camping trips, and she had to fly home early from our field trip to Washington D.C. because she got a severe case of "the hives." But she was there at the meetings every week and would never pass me on my badge work, so that people couldn't say I cheated. She tested our Leader's daughter and our Leader tested me!
I remember one time we were trying to find a parking space at a mall and she jammed on the brakes and said "look at that!" in anger and horror. "What?" I said, slightly confused. Then she pointed at a dog that was locked in a car with the windows all the way up. She was always appalled that people would mistreat animals. She was a regular donor to the Michigan Humane Society, the World Wildlife Fund and several other similar organizations. Her beloved dogs and cats in later years received their own funeral services and burials at the AAA Pet Cemetery in Taylor, Michigan. The owners knew her there and were sorry to hear of my mother's death. She visited often and they liked her.
She lived out a dream when she and Dad traveled to Kenya, Uganda and Tanzania – several times – to stay at various lodges and go on “camera safari.” She was childlike in her delightful recounting of the sights seen, people met and beauty of the land. She treasured those trips to her last day.
Everyone liked her. She would go grocery shopping 3 times a week just to stand in line and talk with people. The clerks knew her by name and always had big smiles for her, asking about her dogs, the family, etc. She didn't gossip and she had an innocence about her that I always described as being from another generation beyond what I perceived to be her own. (Which actually, she was.) She came from a gentler time, it seems. I was so glad that she wasn't alive for 9-11 because she wouldn't have understood, if indeed any of us do.
One time when we lived on a man-made lake, some boys skated across the length of it (frozen) to pelt the house with ice balls, yelling "motherf---er" from the darkened lakeshore just out of sight. I was there and we called the police. But I remember her confusion and how she looked at me and asked why would they yell that at us, and what did it mean? I had to pause for a moment, pondering the consequences of letting her know that I knew what it meant, or just letting it go.
"I don't know," I said finally. I didn't understand either, other than that she fed the Canadian Geese, who decided to stay all year round because of the great deal they had, and that ticked some people off. I don't really understand wanton cruelty either.
Lest you think Ethel Irene Kugler-Adler might appear ignorant or stupid from how I'm portraying her, that would be furthest from the truth. She was a gentle loving woman who set her career aside, because that's what women did in that time, to raise her daughter and care for her husband. Marrying an obstetrician, she sacrificed the "Ozzie-and-Harriet-Great-American-Life-Ideal" where hubby was always home at 5 pm for a life where it was a crap shoot if he would be called out for a delivery at any moment and how long he'd be gone. But being an RN herself, she knew what she was getting into. And she loved him very much.
When Dad brought home the money from the bank on Fridays, my mother went through a ritual I watched for many years. She had envelopes for every imaginable expense. She was a master of "set-aside." There were Christmas funds for her, dad and me. There were Easter funds for each of us. Travel and Vacations funds for us all. She had a "Hummel’s" envelope where she saved to acquire those beautifully delicate figurines that she treasured and built up a sizable collection. She had "Just in Case" envelopes, and of course she budgeted for food each week, getting her hair done, and other incidentals. Before she died, she gave me a list of where she had hidden certain envelopes. There were some she wanted Dad to get and some she wanted only me to have. (She actually helped to pay for her own funeral.) Months later while cleaning out one of her dresser drawers, I found 3 crisp $1 bills in an oriental cloth glasses case, with 3 more crisp $100 bills hidden behind them when I pulled them out!)
My mother died of cancer after a colectomy and several stays in the hospital. The last one lasted about 4 weeks. I was there for the entire time. Her greatest regret that she expressed to me was not that she was dying but that she was going to go before her husband. "Who's going to take care of Phil?" she asked. (My Dad had developed some early signs of dementia which was her concern.)
On the day she died, I was in the hospital room with her. My dad and her best friend, who had been my dad's former office nurse of many years were also present. As the floor nurse in attendance rolled her on her side to alleviate the bedsores on her back, my mother came out of a coma state to open one eye, and connect with me in a way that drew me forward to lean into her and say "Mom?" She nailed me with a glance that I knew she was aware and communicating.
Then as the nurse rolled her back on her back, I felt something shift. Call it energy, call it a Presence, but there was a definite shift. Something had exited the room and I was the only one who caught it. I looked at the nurse and said, "I think she's gone."
Indeed she was. We had left a no-resuscitation order. We had no desire to see her suffer.
When I describe my mother's last week, and her withdrawal from life, I have used the analogy of a 5-room house being vacated one room at a time. On Monday, one of the rooms was completely cleaned out. On Tuesday, two rooms were completely cleaned out, and so forth until that Friday, when the house was completely empty, save for that one fleeting moment of stepping back in to say goodbye.
During that month of her last stay in the hospital, Dad and I spent most of our time by her side. When she awoke I would massage her hands with white gardenia lotion. "Oh, that smells so nice," she would say.
Sometimes she would think she was at home and that D.J., her dog (named after me) was there with her. Rather than contradict her, I would just step into the illusion with her. "Yes," I would say, "She's a good guardian. She’s a good girl."
When Mom was asleep, and Dad wasn't around, I would talk to her and let her know that I loved her and that it was okay for her to go on now. That's really important - to help our loved ones let go of this overcoat we call the body and feel free to move on to the next phase of life in Spirit.
The nurses were great. As soon as the public address speakers announced the end of visiting hours at night, they would poke their heads in and say "It's okay - just stay as long as you want." They all adored her. "She's such a dear" and "She's so sweet" they would say. They loved that she was so easy to care for. She was one of "their own."
If I have any regrets at all it's that I didn't realize that I could deliver her eulogy at the funeral. I wasn't raised in the Jewish faith, so I didn't know. I felt angry that a stranger would come to the house to "interview" us to find out something about her that he could say. The Rabbi thought I was angry because she was dead when in actuality I was pissed off at the hypocrisy of the experience. (I made that correction by delivering my father's eulogy six years later at his funeral).
My mother didn't go for early treatment, when she had detected a change in a mole she had, because she didn't want to cost the family expensive health care. She had been denied Social Security benefits and Medicare because of some insane quirk that they claimed she didn't work enough years. I took the system on and fought them - and won. Our claim was still in process when she died. The notice of award came 4 days later.
It took me months before I could walk into a Hallmark shop or past a gift store without seeing something - a card or gift or Hummel figurine - and think "Oh, Mom will like that. I'll get it for her." Catching myself was part of the "letting go" process.
I don't think you ever really get over losing a loved one. I just think you learn to live with the loss. I miss my buddy. We talked on the phone at least 3 times a week.
We shared many adventures when I was growing up, taking long rides into the country, driving to shopping malls in other cities on my dad's office nights, fall visits to the Cider Mill, going out to Detroit Metropolitan Airport to eat lunch and watch the planes and people come and go, and eating at Howard Johnson's with our next door neighbor Dorothy, to name a few.
There have been some years when this day has come and gone for me without much notice. But this year it seemed to telegraph itself in advance, so now it's part of my ongoing story here in my blog.
To Ethel Irene Kugler-Adler. I Love you very much.
Your Daughter
“Debby”
please vote for this article at Stumble, Digg, Furl, Del.icio.us, and Facebook. Thanks!
Her father made gold fillings until they started using other materials, then I guess things got kind of tough for them. He died when I was 5 years old. "Pop-Pop" I called him. Her mother raised three daughters, of which Ethel, my mother, was the youngest, "The baby."
I don't know a whole lot about how she grew up - other than she came through the Great Depression, and talked occasionally about how her and other kids would chew on still soft tarmac to clean their teeth. (Couldn't have been for the taste).
She was a Registered Nurse, but it wasn't until I was visiting my Aunt Gladys in my late twenties that I discovered the story of how she got there. My mother had been very sickly as a young girl, and apparently there was some doubt at one point as to whether or not she would live while in high school. She wanted to become a nurse and applied for, and won a scholarship to the local college. Her parents wouldn't let her accept the award because they were poor and couldn't pay for the room and board and incidental expenses. So she later went to work at the local department store, Laubach's, in downtown Easton and saved up her money until she could go to school and fulfill her dream. The doctor who had attended her in her health crisis wrote a glowing recommendation. I had no idea until that day when my Aunt shared the story of what a fighter my mom was.
My mom was raised by her oldest sister, Grace, who quit school at the 8th grade to take care of the household because of their mother's failing health. She was a woman wise beyond any educated person I've ever met and my mother looked to her as her mother, really. She often said "Grace raised me."
Ethel Irene Kugler was a supervising nurse when she met a dashing young intern, Philip Adler DO, who bet her a hot fudge sundae that he could drive her to an appointment that she was late for and get her there on time in his model-something Ford. She took the bet, he got her there, they got the hot fudge sundaes and later got married. Hot fudge sundaes remained a favorite desert. (Incidentally, because of the rotation he was on at the time, on the floor where she worked, they used to tell everyone that they met in the "V.D. Clinic.")
Again, it was many years later that I learned about my mother's courage and fortitude, because to look at her you might think she was frail. She was certainly a gentle being. She loved animals and was always bringing in stray critters who were wounded or lost or abandoned by their mothers. But to marry the man she loved took some bravado. He was 16 years her junior. He was from an orthodox-Jewish family, she was Lutheran. His family declared him "dead" by holding the traditional week-long period of mourning for him, even though my Mother converted to Judaism to try to appease them.
(She expressed regret for that years later when I shared with her that I had secretly been baptized at an interdenominational church I joined in my first year of college. I believe it relieved some guilt she felt for not being able to bring me up in a "Faith" because they pretty much dropped any formal religious practices and affiliations. My sharing that with her brought her comfort.)
I didn't learn resentment from her about this situation. If I asked about Dad's family she always said "Well, maybe we'll talk about it some day." Those relatives were always "Too far away" to visit when I would ask. I mean, it took 2 days of driving to get to Easton from Detroit. For a while it seems, I thought New York was west of Chicago, as a kid, because I couldn't imagine where "too far away" really was.
She was 42 years old when she gave birth to me, a pregnancy she had to take DES for in order to retain it full term and not lose me. That was a standard drug therapy then, and years later when I faced the possibility of cervical cancer (along with numerous other former DES babies) Mom expressed guilt as to having taken the drug.
"Are you kidding?" I told her from my hospital bed, "I wouldn't be here if you hadn't!" I'm not sure that helped, but I didn't have cancer, so hopefully her guilt abated.
Because youthful looks ran in her side of the family, I really didn’t get as a kid how old my mother was in comparison to the other kids' moms. She became an Assistant Girl Scout Leader and stayed active with us through High School. She did have problems with severe arthritis that prevented her from some camping trips, and she had to fly home early from our field trip to Washington D.C. because she got a severe case of "the hives." But she was there at the meetings every week and would never pass me on my badge work, so that people couldn't say I cheated. She tested our Leader's daughter and our Leader tested me!
I remember one time we were trying to find a parking space at a mall and she jammed on the brakes and said "look at that!" in anger and horror. "What?" I said, slightly confused. Then she pointed at a dog that was locked in a car with the windows all the way up. She was always appalled that people would mistreat animals. She was a regular donor to the Michigan Humane Society, the World Wildlife Fund and several other similar organizations. Her beloved dogs and cats in later years received their own funeral services and burials at the AAA Pet Cemetery in Taylor, Michigan. The owners knew her there and were sorry to hear of my mother's death. She visited often and they liked her.
She lived out a dream when she and Dad traveled to Kenya, Uganda and Tanzania – several times – to stay at various lodges and go on “camera safari.” She was childlike in her delightful recounting of the sights seen, people met and beauty of the land. She treasured those trips to her last day.
Everyone liked her. She would go grocery shopping 3 times a week just to stand in line and talk with people. The clerks knew her by name and always had big smiles for her, asking about her dogs, the family, etc. She didn't gossip and she had an innocence about her that I always described as being from another generation beyond what I perceived to be her own. (Which actually, she was.) She came from a gentler time, it seems. I was so glad that she wasn't alive for 9-11 because she wouldn't have understood, if indeed any of us do.
One time when we lived on a man-made lake, some boys skated across the length of it (frozen) to pelt the house with ice balls, yelling "motherf---er" from the darkened lakeshore just out of sight. I was there and we called the police. But I remember her confusion and how she looked at me and asked why would they yell that at us, and what did it mean? I had to pause for a moment, pondering the consequences of letting her know that I knew what it meant, or just letting it go.
"I don't know," I said finally. I didn't understand either, other than that she fed the Canadian Geese, who decided to stay all year round because of the great deal they had, and that ticked some people off. I don't really understand wanton cruelty either.
Lest you think Ethel Irene Kugler-Adler might appear ignorant or stupid from how I'm portraying her, that would be furthest from the truth. She was a gentle loving woman who set her career aside, because that's what women did in that time, to raise her daughter and care for her husband. Marrying an obstetrician, she sacrificed the "Ozzie-and-Harriet-Great-American-Life-Ideal" where hubby was always home at 5 pm for a life where it was a crap shoot if he would be called out for a delivery at any moment and how long he'd be gone. But being an RN herself, she knew what she was getting into. And she loved him very much.
When Dad brought home the money from the bank on Fridays, my mother went through a ritual I watched for many years. She had envelopes for every imaginable expense. She was a master of "set-aside." There were Christmas funds for her, dad and me. There were Easter funds for each of us. Travel and Vacations funds for us all. She had a "Hummel’s" envelope where she saved to acquire those beautifully delicate figurines that she treasured and built up a sizable collection. She had "Just in Case" envelopes, and of course she budgeted for food each week, getting her hair done, and other incidentals. Before she died, she gave me a list of where she had hidden certain envelopes. There were some she wanted Dad to get and some she wanted only me to have. (She actually helped to pay for her own funeral.) Months later while cleaning out one of her dresser drawers, I found 3 crisp $1 bills in an oriental cloth glasses case, with 3 more crisp $100 bills hidden behind them when I pulled them out!)
My mother died of cancer after a colectomy and several stays in the hospital. The last one lasted about 4 weeks. I was there for the entire time. Her greatest regret that she expressed to me was not that she was dying but that she was going to go before her husband. "Who's going to take care of Phil?" she asked. (My Dad had developed some early signs of dementia which was her concern.)
On the day she died, I was in the hospital room with her. My dad and her best friend, who had been my dad's former office nurse of many years were also present. As the floor nurse in attendance rolled her on her side to alleviate the bedsores on her back, my mother came out of a coma state to open one eye, and connect with me in a way that drew me forward to lean into her and say "Mom?" She nailed me with a glance that I knew she was aware and communicating.
Then as the nurse rolled her back on her back, I felt something shift. Call it energy, call it a Presence, but there was a definite shift. Something had exited the room and I was the only one who caught it. I looked at the nurse and said, "I think she's gone."
Indeed she was. We had left a no-resuscitation order. We had no desire to see her suffer.
When I describe my mother's last week, and her withdrawal from life, I have used the analogy of a 5-room house being vacated one room at a time. On Monday, one of the rooms was completely cleaned out. On Tuesday, two rooms were completely cleaned out, and so forth until that Friday, when the house was completely empty, save for that one fleeting moment of stepping back in to say goodbye.
During that month of her last stay in the hospital, Dad and I spent most of our time by her side. When she awoke I would massage her hands with white gardenia lotion. "Oh, that smells so nice," she would say.
Sometimes she would think she was at home and that D.J., her dog (named after me) was there with her. Rather than contradict her, I would just step into the illusion with her. "Yes," I would say, "She's a good guardian. She’s a good girl."
When Mom was asleep, and Dad wasn't around, I would talk to her and let her know that I loved her and that it was okay for her to go on now. That's really important - to help our loved ones let go of this overcoat we call the body and feel free to move on to the next phase of life in Spirit.
The nurses were great. As soon as the public address speakers announced the end of visiting hours at night, they would poke their heads in and say "It's okay - just stay as long as you want." They all adored her. "She's such a dear" and "She's so sweet" they would say. They loved that she was so easy to care for. She was one of "their own."
If I have any regrets at all it's that I didn't realize that I could deliver her eulogy at the funeral. I wasn't raised in the Jewish faith, so I didn't know. I felt angry that a stranger would come to the house to "interview" us to find out something about her that he could say. The Rabbi thought I was angry because she was dead when in actuality I was pissed off at the hypocrisy of the experience. (I made that correction by delivering my father's eulogy six years later at his funeral).
My mother didn't go for early treatment, when she had detected a change in a mole she had, because she didn't want to cost the family expensive health care. She had been denied Social Security benefits and Medicare because of some insane quirk that they claimed she didn't work enough years. I took the system on and fought them - and won. Our claim was still in process when she died. The notice of award came 4 days later.
It took me months before I could walk into a Hallmark shop or past a gift store without seeing something - a card or gift or Hummel figurine - and think "Oh, Mom will like that. I'll get it for her." Catching myself was part of the "letting go" process.
I don't think you ever really get over losing a loved one. I just think you learn to live with the loss. I miss my buddy. We talked on the phone at least 3 times a week.
We shared many adventures when I was growing up, taking long rides into the country, driving to shopping malls in other cities on my dad's office nights, fall visits to the Cider Mill, going out to Detroit Metropolitan Airport to eat lunch and watch the planes and people come and go, and eating at Howard Johnson's with our next door neighbor Dorothy, to name a few.
There have been some years when this day has come and gone for me without much notice. But this year it seemed to telegraph itself in advance, so now it's part of my ongoing story here in my blog.
To Ethel Irene Kugler-Adler. I Love you very much.
Your Daughter
“Debby”
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Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Remember TV Series CAGNEY AND LACEY? Vote by Oct 26th
Okay Friends, Admittedly this isn't about global warming or a burning social issue, HOWEVER, it is about a TV Series that was gutsy and outrageously pioneering in its day, and still relevant to this day: Cagney and Lacey.
Released earlier this year as a DVD Series, the complete set of 125 episodes, and the first season as a separate release, it seems that just like the TV show itself, which resurrected itself from cancellation with the help of ardent viewer support in a write-in campaign, so this DVD Release has met with some opposition. Source of the resistance? Would you believe the parent company that released it? Fox Entertainment.
Although both the 1st Season and the Complete 125-Episode sets are available on line, there has been little to no push to get these into major outlets like Blockbuster and other retail venues. Call me an old-fashioned militant feminist, if you will (I will actually feel complemented), but I think there's something more afoot here. This series kicked out a whole new view of women on TV. It addressed controversial social issues in a prime-time drama that provided depth and pathos, not just "sensationalism."
So here's my request. There's an online vote coming up for an annual TV DVD Awards. Cagney and Lacey are nominated for the 1980's category. The url is below. If you can't get to it by clicking, just copy and paste into your browser. Go there and vote for the Gals. Okay?
And if that gets your "activist juices" going again, after all these years, then write me back and I can refer you to some other places you can write. There's a few of us who would like to see the other seasons produced and released as originally promised by Fox Entertainment.
Visit www.cagneyandlacey.com for more info.
Thanks,
Deb
HERE'S THE AWARDS VOTING INFORMATION:
CAGNEY & LACEY is among the DVDs nominated in the fourth annual TV DVD Awards. The public can vote on their favorite DVD releases of TV show by going to: http://reg.itworld.com/servlet/Frs.frs?Script=/LP/80196486/reg&Context=START
CAGNEY & LACEY is nominated in the 1980s series. SO VOTE! Voting ends Oct. 26. Winners will be announced Monday, Nov. 12, during a gala dinner and cocktail reception at the Hyatt Regency Century Plaza Hotel in Century City, CA.
MORE ABOUT THE TV SERIES "CAGNEY AND LACEY"
Christine Cagney and Mary Beth Lacey, in the 1980's TV Series CAGNEY AND LACEY "did everything their male counterparts did, but they did it like women (talking incessantly and supporting each other through everything from bad dates to alcoholism to rape to breast cancer).
"Lacey had a very complex and involving marriage, while Cagney was a career-driven woman with no desire to settle down. They were friends because they admired each other's honesty and competence, and because they could rely on each other in a dangerous job that they both loved."
[Excerpt from: http://www.nostalgiacentral.com/tv/cops/cagneylacey.htm 6/7/2007]
From an article by Beth Corbin, appearing in National NOW Times, January 1995
Cagney & Lacey was a solid hit with the critics and viewers, winning virtually every important industry award possible, including 14 Emmys, a Golden Globe and Directors and Writers Guild awards. The series concerned the lives of two dedicated policewomen who were partners and fast friends, determined to break the stereotypes often ascribed to women in jobs not traditionally associated with them. They fought criminals, the chauvinism of their male fellow officers, the ignorance of their friends and sometimes each other.
In an article appearing in the May, 1983 National NOW Times, then-editor Toni Carabillo described the program as "not the formula cops and robbers routine -- but one of the few shows on television depicting credible women whose lives, though dramatically suspenseful and entertaining, also had some grounding in reality."
"Cagney & Lacey brought honesty about women's lives to television viewing. We saw smart, tough, determined women who now serve as role models for how life changes." - Former NOW President Patricia Ireland
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Member of the Boxxet Network of Blogs, Videos and Photos
Released earlier this year as a DVD Series, the complete set of 125 episodes, and the first season as a separate release, it seems that just like the TV show itself, which resurrected itself from cancellation with the help of ardent viewer support in a write-in campaign, so this DVD Release has met with some opposition. Source of the resistance? Would you believe the parent company that released it? Fox Entertainment.
Although both the 1st Season and the Complete 125-Episode sets are available on line, there has been little to no push to get these into major outlets like Blockbuster and other retail venues. Call me an old-fashioned militant feminist, if you will (I will actually feel complemented), but I think there's something more afoot here. This series kicked out a whole new view of women on TV. It addressed controversial social issues in a prime-time drama that provided depth and pathos, not just "sensationalism."
So here's my request. There's an online vote coming up for an annual TV DVD Awards. Cagney and Lacey are nominated for the 1980's category. The url is below. If you can't get to it by clicking, just copy and paste into your browser. Go there and vote for the Gals. Okay?
And if that gets your "activist juices" going again, after all these years, then write me back and I can refer you to some other places you can write. There's a few of us who would like to see the other seasons produced and released as originally promised by Fox Entertainment.
Visit www.cagneyandlacey.com for more info.
Thanks,
Deb
HERE'S THE AWARDS VOTING INFORMATION:
CAGNEY & LACEY is among the DVDs nominated in the fourth annual TV DVD Awards. The public can vote on their favorite DVD releases of TV show by going to: http://reg.itworld.com/servlet/Frs.frs?Script=/LP/80196486/reg&Context=START
CAGNEY & LACEY is nominated in the 1980s series. SO VOTE! Voting ends Oct. 26. Winners will be announced Monday, Nov. 12, during a gala dinner and cocktail reception at the Hyatt Regency Century Plaza Hotel in Century City, CA.
MORE ABOUT THE TV SERIES "CAGNEY AND LACEY"
Christine Cagney and Mary Beth Lacey, in the 1980's TV Series CAGNEY AND LACEY "did everything their male counterparts did, but they did it like women (talking incessantly and supporting each other through everything from bad dates to alcoholism to rape to breast cancer).
"Lacey had a very complex and involving marriage, while Cagney was a career-driven woman with no desire to settle down. They were friends because they admired each other's honesty and competence, and because they could rely on each other in a dangerous job that they both loved."
[Excerpt from: http://www.nostalgiacentral.com/tv/cops/cagneylacey.htm 6/7/2007]
From an article by Beth Corbin, appearing in National NOW Times, January 1995
Cagney & Lacey was a solid hit with the critics and viewers, winning virtually every important industry award possible, including 14 Emmys, a Golden Globe and Directors and Writers Guild awards. The series concerned the lives of two dedicated policewomen who were partners and fast friends, determined to break the stereotypes often ascribed to women in jobs not traditionally associated with them. They fought criminals, the chauvinism of their male fellow officers, the ignorance of their friends and sometimes each other.
In an article appearing in the May, 1983 National NOW Times, then-editor Toni Carabillo described the program as "not the formula cops and robbers routine -- but one of the few shows on television depicting credible women whose lives, though dramatically suspenseful and entertaining, also had some grounding in reality."
"Cagney & Lacey brought honesty about women's lives to television viewing. We saw smart, tough, determined women who now serve as role models for how life changes." - Former NOW President Patricia Ireland
©2008 Deborah Adler. All rights reserved.
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Thursday, October 11, 2007
You're Invited to a Fall Festival in Southeastern Ohio!
You are cordially invited to a Fall Festival.
Come join us for a day full of fun and entertainment on
October 27th 2007, at 2:00 – 7:00 pm. This event will be
located at Ancient Village which is an historical and
educational tourist site located in the majestic rolling hills of southeast Ohio.
see http://www.ancientvillage.com/
see also http://www.friendshipvillage.cc/, where Ancient Village is located.
If you have not experienced the Fall Season in our beautiful
Ohio Valley, you need to take advantage of this occasion to
do so. There are awesome views a top the hills and
delightful nature and her creatures to enhance the gathering.
You will want to see this before Old Man Winter comes and
covers us with a white blanket of snow!
Our Fall Festivities will include blue grass music, crafts, games and dancing and mouth watering food as well!
Ancient Village features a series of structures dating from the earliest stone shelters to the more familiar log cabins of more recent generations. We follow man’s development of culture and society personified in the various living structures that he inhabited. It is a wonderful place to come and truly experience a world out of time.
We look forward to sharing this magnificent wonder and enjoy the festivities together. A dinner menu of clam bake, chicken, fixings (and desserts) will be available.
There will be activities for the whole family – so load up the car and enjoy the fall crescendo of colors with good friends and family, and in an awesome Fall setting!!
RSVP your attendance TODAY!! Call 740-838-4033
please vote for this article at Stumble, Digg, Furl, Del.icio.us, and Facebook. Thanks!
Member of the Boxxet Network of Blogs, Videos and Photos
Come join us for a day full of fun and entertainment on
October 27th 2007, at 2:00 – 7:00 pm. This event will be
located at Ancient Village which is an historical and
educational tourist site located in the majestic rolling hills of southeast Ohio.
see http://www.ancientvillage.com/
see also http://www.friendshipvillage.cc/, where Ancient Village is located.
If you have not experienced the Fall Season in our beautiful
Ohio Valley, you need to take advantage of this occasion to
do so. There are awesome views a top the hills and
delightful nature and her creatures to enhance the gathering.
You will want to see this before Old Man Winter comes and
covers us with a white blanket of snow!
Our Fall Festivities will include blue grass music, crafts, games and dancing and mouth watering food as well!
Ancient Village features a series of structures dating from the earliest stone shelters to the more familiar log cabins of more recent generations. We follow man’s development of culture and society personified in the various living structures that he inhabited. It is a wonderful place to come and truly experience a world out of time.
We look forward to sharing this magnificent wonder and enjoy the festivities together. A dinner menu of clam bake, chicken, fixings (and desserts) will be available.
There will be activities for the whole family – so load up the car and enjoy the fall crescendo of colors with good friends and family, and in an awesome Fall setting!!
RSVP your attendance TODAY!! Call 740-838-4033
©2008 Deborah Adler. All rights reserved.
please vote for this article at Stumble, Digg, Furl, Del.icio.us, and Facebook. Thanks!
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Wednesday, October 10, 2007
I Want My Mommy! - Postscript
Update to "I Want My Mommy" Post..
I was sitting in the wifi cafe today and the grandfather, little boy and a young woman walked in and sat down at the table near me.
The little boy looked very happy. The Grandfather was orienting the young woman to what the little boy usually orders. I looked over to the Grandfather and said, "Did he get his Mommy back?" He didn't hear me, but the young woman looked back at me and nodded.
I asked, "Are you his mother?" She answered "Yes."
I got up and explained that I had been there the day he found out she was coming home and how he wanted to go to the airport "Right now."
She laughed and nodded.
I extended my hand to her and said "Congratulations. Welcome Home." Then, instead of shaking hands, I hugged her. She leaned right into it, welcoming the "welcoming."
I asked if she was home for good. She said, "well, until the next time."
So she'll probably go back, and once more the little boy will have to be without his mother. Maybe by then, we will no longer be sending mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, sisters, brothers, children or friends "over there."
Let's pray so.
-D
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I was sitting in the wifi cafe today and the grandfather, little boy and a young woman walked in and sat down at the table near me.
The little boy looked very happy. The Grandfather was orienting the young woman to what the little boy usually orders. I looked over to the Grandfather and said, "Did he get his Mommy back?" He didn't hear me, but the young woman looked back at me and nodded.
I asked, "Are you his mother?" She answered "Yes."
I got up and explained that I had been there the day he found out she was coming home and how he wanted to go to the airport "Right now."
She laughed and nodded.
I extended my hand to her and said "Congratulations. Welcome Home." Then, instead of shaking hands, I hugged her. She leaned right into it, welcoming the "welcoming."
I asked if she was home for good. She said, "well, until the next time."
So she'll probably go back, and once more the little boy will have to be without his mother. Maybe by then, we will no longer be sending mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, sisters, brothers, children or friends "over there."
Let's pray so.
-D
©2008 Deborah Adler. All rights reserved.
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Monday, October 8, 2007
I Want My Mommy!
I'm watching a little boy who has just found out earlier in the day that his mother is returning from Iraq. He is almost inconsolable in the arms of his grandfather. I have seen them together often here, at a local restaurant-wifi spot, where I am sitting as I write this. In fact, I’m usually at the same table and they sit nearby at two stuffed chairs by the fireplace in the center of the eating area.
He’s pretty rambunctious, tends to hang from door handles and tries to climb up the walls, over the furniture, etc. I‘ve felt, with some sympathy towards the grandfather, and then again not, that the boy often gets out of hand. It seems Grandpa just keeps talking to him in this almost monotone, very soothing, but not too effective. Today it all came into perspective.
She (his mom) has been away for 2 ½ years. The little boy wants to go to the airport now and wait for her. Apparently she won’t be in for another few days.
I guessed that he looked as though he might be 3 or 4 years old. “Yes,” the Grandfather confirmed when I asked, “He’ll be four on Oct 20th.”
Seems every time the little boy sees a plane since the news that his mother is coming returning, he breaks into tears. He wants to go to the airport and wait for mommy - NOW! He wants to be there when she arrives. He really doesn't understand why they can't go now. I'm sure he doesn't want to miss her. There is no comfort at this point.
Some people try. A server brings out a cookie. Another woman, a customer, has gone to her car and brought back a coloring book for the boy - having no idea whatsoever what's wrong, but still wanting to help.
“I want my mommy!!!” Through tears and screams.
He was less than 2 years old when she left, I calculated in my head. Then I thought of all the ones who were on their way home and didn’t make it back in those last few precious days of duty. I said a prayer for both of them.
I wonder. How many other children have been traumatized? How many will never see their mommies or daddies again?
For what?
-D
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He’s pretty rambunctious, tends to hang from door handles and tries to climb up the walls, over the furniture, etc. I‘ve felt, with some sympathy towards the grandfather, and then again not, that the boy often gets out of hand. It seems Grandpa just keeps talking to him in this almost monotone, very soothing, but not too effective. Today it all came into perspective.
She (his mom) has been away for 2 ½ years. The little boy wants to go to the airport now and wait for her. Apparently she won’t be in for another few days.
I guessed that he looked as though he might be 3 or 4 years old. “Yes,” the Grandfather confirmed when I asked, “He’ll be four on Oct 20th.”
Seems every time the little boy sees a plane since the news that his mother is coming returning, he breaks into tears. He wants to go to the airport and wait for mommy - NOW! He wants to be there when she arrives. He really doesn't understand why they can't go now. I'm sure he doesn't want to miss her. There is no comfort at this point.
Some people try. A server brings out a cookie. Another woman, a customer, has gone to her car and brought back a coloring book for the boy - having no idea whatsoever what's wrong, but still wanting to help.
“I want my mommy!!!” Through tears and screams.
He was less than 2 years old when she left, I calculated in my head. Then I thought of all the ones who were on their way home and didn’t make it back in those last few precious days of duty. I said a prayer for both of them.
I wonder. How many other children have been traumatized? How many will never see their mommies or daddies again?
For what?
-D
©2008 Deborah Adler. All rights reserved.
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Tuesday, October 2, 2007
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
October 2, 1950
Dr. Philip Adler and Ethel Irene Kugler Adler gave birth to a baby girl at 2:10 pm at Detroit Osteopathic Hospital, Highland Park, Michigan. (Actually Ethel did the birthing, Phil - who was an obstetrician and gynecologist on staff at "DOH" - had to sit this one out on the sidelines). They named her Deborah Joan Adler. They were also prepared for a boy, whom they would name David Jonathan Adler. (This was before you could tell the sex of your baby 5 seconds after intercourse.) They had no preference, other than sound health.
They celebrated this birth, especially because Ethel was closer to 42 years old than 41 and had already had one miscarriage and experienced difficulty keeping this pregnancy. (Deb would become a "DES Baby" in her mid-twenties, as did many of her peers whose mothers took that drug to help retain their pregnancies). "Debby," as she would be called by her parents and friends as she was growing up, was welcomed with joy by Ethel and Phil, their friends and Ethel's sisters Grace and Gladys and their children and extended family. Phil's family had rendered him "dead" for marrying a non-Jew. Whether they were notified immediately or what their reaction was is not known.
On this day I, Deborah J. Adler (Deb), also known to the Principle People as U'tana A'qua No gi' Su, wish to acknowledge my mother (deceased 11-1-1991) and my father (deceased 3-18-1997) with great thanksgiving for giving me passage into this life and for their love and experience. I miss them and celebrate that they are together in the Light.
I wish to acknowledge my extended natural family - The Harley clan, the Shive's, The Phillips'- and all the wonderful memories I have of Christmas trips to Easton PA and great big "Walton's-style" holidays, as well as summer visits and times together, and genuine warmth and love.
To those with whom I have shared recovery from addiction to alcohol and other drugs, I send you the first song I wrote in sobriety, over 27 years ago. www.myspace.com/debadlersongbyrd (click on For the First Time in My Life). (May take one or two days from this post for it to show up). Live long as sober, strong, and free!
To those who have supported my music by attending concerts, buying CD's, and taking part in my Blogs, etc., I appreciate you in the circle of my life.
To the one I know as Grandmother Parisha, I give deep appreciation for your love and mentoring. I also acknowledge with thanksgiving the "family" of friends and associates I have worked alongside of, some for 20 years, in projects for the Yunsai Society and Learning Center for Human for Human Development. May we continue to learn and grow together in ever expanding adventures!
In the traditional ways of the T'saligi (also known as The Principle People), into whom I was adopted over 16 years ago, the person having a birthday celebrates by bringing gifts to those who have played a significant role in their life.
So from me to you all, I CELEBRATE YOU IN MY LIFE AND SPEAK MY APPRECIATION!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!
Deb
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Dr. Philip Adler and Ethel Irene Kugler Adler gave birth to a baby girl at 2:10 pm at Detroit Osteopathic Hospital, Highland Park, Michigan. (Actually Ethel did the birthing, Phil - who was an obstetrician and gynecologist on staff at "DOH" - had to sit this one out on the sidelines). They named her Deborah Joan Adler. They were also prepared for a boy, whom they would name David Jonathan Adler. (This was before you could tell the sex of your baby 5 seconds after intercourse.) They had no preference, other than sound health.
They celebrated this birth, especially because Ethel was closer to 42 years old than 41 and had already had one miscarriage and experienced difficulty keeping this pregnancy. (Deb would become a "DES Baby" in her mid-twenties, as did many of her peers whose mothers took that drug to help retain their pregnancies). "Debby," as she would be called by her parents and friends as she was growing up, was welcomed with joy by Ethel and Phil, their friends and Ethel's sisters Grace and Gladys and their children and extended family. Phil's family had rendered him "dead" for marrying a non-Jew. Whether they were notified immediately or what their reaction was is not known.
On this day I, Deborah J. Adler (Deb), also known to the Principle People as U'tana A'qua No gi' Su, wish to acknowledge my mother (deceased 11-1-1991) and my father (deceased 3-18-1997) with great thanksgiving for giving me passage into this life and for their love and experience. I miss them and celebrate that they are together in the Light.
I wish to acknowledge my extended natural family - The Harley clan, the Shive's, The Phillips'- and all the wonderful memories I have of Christmas trips to Easton PA and great big "Walton's-style" holidays, as well as summer visits and times together, and genuine warmth and love.
To those with whom I have shared recovery from addiction to alcohol and other drugs, I send you the first song I wrote in sobriety, over 27 years ago. www.myspace.com/debadlersongbyrd (click on For the First Time in My Life). (May take one or two days from this post for it to show up). Live long as sober, strong, and free!
To those who have supported my music by attending concerts, buying CD's, and taking part in my Blogs, etc., I appreciate you in the circle of my life.
To the one I know as Grandmother Parisha, I give deep appreciation for your love and mentoring. I also acknowledge with thanksgiving the "family" of friends and associates I have worked alongside of, some for 20 years, in projects for the Yunsai Society and Learning Center for Human for Human Development. May we continue to learn and grow together in ever expanding adventures!
In the traditional ways of the T'saligi (also known as The Principle People), into whom I was adopted over 16 years ago, the person having a birthday celebrates by bringing gifts to those who have played a significant role in their life.
So from me to you all, I CELEBRATE YOU IN MY LIFE AND SPEAK MY APPRECIATION!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!
Deb
©2008 Deborah Adler. All rights reserved.
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Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Seek First to Understand...
"Seek First to Understand, Then to be Understood.
-Stephen R. Covey, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People
"Covey warns that giving out advice before having empathetically understood a person and their situation will likely result in that advice being rejected. Thoroughly listening to another person's concerns instead of reading out your own autobiography is purported to increase the chance of establishing a working communication."
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Seven_Habits_of_Highly_Effective_People)
Just wanted to end that last post with a positive note! Sounds saccharin? Maybe. But I've learned that what we focus on is what we get. I want more understanding, compassion and respect from others, so guess what I have to offer first? I'm learning. Thanks for letting me share my process.
Prejudices, pain, ignorance exists today, but we don't have to feed it.
Later. -D
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-Stephen R. Covey, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People
"Covey warns that giving out advice before having empathetically understood a person and their situation will likely result in that advice being rejected. Thoroughly listening to another person's concerns instead of reading out your own autobiography is purported to increase the chance of establishing a working communication."
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Seven_Habits_of_Highly_Effective_People)
Just wanted to end that last post with a positive note! Sounds saccharin? Maybe. But I've learned that what we focus on is what we get. I want more understanding, compassion and respect from others, so guess what I have to offer first? I'm learning. Thanks for letting me share my process.
Prejudices, pain, ignorance exists today, but we don't have to feed it.
Later. -D
©2008 Deborah Adler. All rights reserved.
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Homophobia Revisited
It’s been a while since I have had to deal with any “in your face” homophobia, so I have to admit that I was caught a bit off guard the other day when it reared its ugly little head.
I started to make a comment in reference to a book that I and some of my friends are studying in a course. The manner of studying the course requires people to partner. Some definite tensions had developed between me and a straight person I chose to partner with for this course. We started studying the course together. I, feeling that it might be more effective for us to partner up with other people to continue our studies and drills, started to reference a quote in the book where it talks about married couples who are quarrelling would be better off not to work with each other. I was going to draw the parallel to our specific situation but never got the chance.
As soon as the words “married couple” came out of my mouth, she went ballistic. “Don’t you ever talk about ‘married couple’ in relation to me. You’re a LESBIAN.”
“Oooo,” I sniped back, abandoning everything I've ever learned about effective 2-way communication, “Touched a hot button, did we?” (Of course that was pretty immature. But then moments where you are trying to get the upper hand on someone instead of really achieve an understanding, are generally immature, bordering on downright stupid.)
Needless to say things deteriorated into a trade of insults, including my informing her that if she were the last woman on earth I wouldn’t be interested.
So much for maintaining dignity and diplomacy. I felt superior at the moment, realizing I had uncovered somebody’s deep down paranoia. “That’s your interpretation," she responded.
She had tried to come back almost immediately in a much softer tone, apologizing. But the truth was out. I really wasn’t interested at the moment in her attempts to lessen her initial outburst. As far as I was concerned she was just attempting to cover her own a-- and basically deny what had just taken place.
So for a few hours it was “all about her.” Then I realized that I was feeling down and I was experiencing tears welling up – and had to ask myself, “Why?” Had I allowed the shot in? Was I harboring some latent, underlying guilt or self-image problem? I’m a pretty openly out person. This wasn’t the first time I had encountered this woman’s prejudice. So why was I feeling sad?
Fortunately the training I’m taking at the moment helped me to recognize that I was sliding down an emotional scale at the prompting of this incident, and I was able to become the “Observer” guiding myself through to a healthier conclusion, as well as a higher, more productive place on the emotional scale.
Still, I wonder about what prompted the slide? What was the sadness I felt? I’ve never really understood prejudice. Oh, I mean I understand that it’s ignorance in action, but the fundamental “Why?” behind it has always been a mystery to me. It doesn’t matter which prejudice we’re talking about – I was born in 1950 and I never understood prejudice against Afro-Americans, or Asian-Americans, or even the dreaded Russians we were taught to fear and hate as the silent enemy lurking just beyond the shores waiting to destroy us. Whenever I’ve witnessed it in action, I’ve felt a sadness.
I know people fear, and often kill what they don’t understand. Kill it. Make it bad. Make it wrong. Eliminate it. “They’re different. We’re okay – they’re not.” “Don’t let anybody see you with them, or hear you talk good about them or they’ll think you’re one of them.” The ignorance goes on and on.
I’ve dedicated my life to organizations that celebrate ALL PEOPLES. I’ve marched for respecting Diversity, honoring Choices, and Dignity for ALL. I know that prejudice and ignorance are still abundant. Yet when it hits in an intimate place in my life, I’m still caught off-guard.
Maybe some of you will think that’s naïve – maybe even stupid. But I know that if I hold the highest ideal for something or someone, I help create that reality. I’ve learned to create my life. Not sure what I created in that encounter. I’ll have to look a little deeper inside to see…
More later
Deb
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I started to make a comment in reference to a book that I and some of my friends are studying in a course. The manner of studying the course requires people to partner. Some definite tensions had developed between me and a straight person I chose to partner with for this course. We started studying the course together. I, feeling that it might be more effective for us to partner up with other people to continue our studies and drills, started to reference a quote in the book where it talks about married couples who are quarrelling would be better off not to work with each other. I was going to draw the parallel to our specific situation but never got the chance.
As soon as the words “married couple” came out of my mouth, she went ballistic. “Don’t you ever talk about ‘married couple’ in relation to me. You’re a LESBIAN.”
“Oooo,” I sniped back, abandoning everything I've ever learned about effective 2-way communication, “Touched a hot button, did we?” (Of course that was pretty immature. But then moments where you are trying to get the upper hand on someone instead of really achieve an understanding, are generally immature, bordering on downright stupid.)
Needless to say things deteriorated into a trade of insults, including my informing her that if she were the last woman on earth I wouldn’t be interested.
So much for maintaining dignity and diplomacy. I felt superior at the moment, realizing I had uncovered somebody’s deep down paranoia. “That’s your interpretation," she responded.
She had tried to come back almost immediately in a much softer tone, apologizing. But the truth was out. I really wasn’t interested at the moment in her attempts to lessen her initial outburst. As far as I was concerned she was just attempting to cover her own a-- and basically deny what had just taken place.
So for a few hours it was “all about her.” Then I realized that I was feeling down and I was experiencing tears welling up – and had to ask myself, “Why?” Had I allowed the shot in? Was I harboring some latent, underlying guilt or self-image problem? I’m a pretty openly out person. This wasn’t the first time I had encountered this woman’s prejudice. So why was I feeling sad?
Fortunately the training I’m taking at the moment helped me to recognize that I was sliding down an emotional scale at the prompting of this incident, and I was able to become the “Observer” guiding myself through to a healthier conclusion, as well as a higher, more productive place on the emotional scale.
Still, I wonder about what prompted the slide? What was the sadness I felt? I’ve never really understood prejudice. Oh, I mean I understand that it’s ignorance in action, but the fundamental “Why?” behind it has always been a mystery to me. It doesn’t matter which prejudice we’re talking about – I was born in 1950 and I never understood prejudice against Afro-Americans, or Asian-Americans, or even the dreaded Russians we were taught to fear and hate as the silent enemy lurking just beyond the shores waiting to destroy us. Whenever I’ve witnessed it in action, I’ve felt a sadness.
I know people fear, and often kill what they don’t understand. Kill it. Make it bad. Make it wrong. Eliminate it. “They’re different. We’re okay – they’re not.” “Don’t let anybody see you with them, or hear you talk good about them or they’ll think you’re one of them.” The ignorance goes on and on.
I’ve dedicated my life to organizations that celebrate ALL PEOPLES. I’ve marched for respecting Diversity, honoring Choices, and Dignity for ALL. I know that prejudice and ignorance are still abundant. Yet when it hits in an intimate place in my life, I’m still caught off-guard.
Maybe some of you will think that’s naïve – maybe even stupid. But I know that if I hold the highest ideal for something or someone, I help create that reality. I’ve learned to create my life. Not sure what I created in that encounter. I’ll have to look a little deeper inside to see…
More later
Deb
©2008 Deborah Adler. All rights reserved.
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Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Great Way to Start Your Day
Good Morning! I have been receiving a daily meditation and affirmation for a while now from http://www.meditationsforwomen.com/ and I highly recommend it as a great way to start out the day. With all the spam that comes through our emails, this is really refreshing and always timely! You can subscribe to receive these gems and not end up on anyone else's list!
What I especially like about these thoughts for the day is that they key in on women's issues with self-esteem, our roles at work and home, personal values, being good to ourselves, and much more. Really gets to the heart of the issues! Great stuff. Good photos accompany the copy. Check it out. More later.
-Deb
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What I especially like about these thoughts for the day is that they key in on women's issues with self-esteem, our roles at work and home, personal values, being good to ourselves, and much more. Really gets to the heart of the issues! Great stuff. Good photos accompany the copy. Check it out. More later.
-Deb
©2008 Deborah Adler. All rights reserved.
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Monday, September 17, 2007
Welcome To My New Blog - Take 2!
Okay, so if you tried to post to "Deb Adler's Blog" right after I sent out the announcement on 9-14, you probably thought "What's up with this?" Long story short - I found a better blog builder, which you are now in and I anticipate smooth sailing from here on out! Thanks for the emails that let me know that you couldn't post. Please keep the feedback coming!
So here's my first post, for those who missed it:
Welcome to my Blog! I'm excited about this new venture on my website and look forward to hearing from you!
There is only one law here: RESPECT. All are welcome who honor this. I reserve the right to pull any post that does not. Sweet and Simple. I welcome questions, comments, and information. Browse my website, www.debadler.com, to get to know more about me and what you may want to ask.I will be sharing my activities along the way.
I am co-producer of On Eagles' Wings Webcast Radio and we feature a live interactive conference call that is simu-cast at www.oneagleswingswebcast.com on Tuesdays at 4:30 pm, featuring studies of quantum physics and spiritual growth. We're currently studying and discussing Dr. Fred Alan Wolf's Book Matter Into Feeling.
In addition, we host an Ancient Teaching Call Monday at 9:00 pm (ES/DST) on On Eagles’ Wings Webcast Radio.. This call features the Venerable Parisha and members of the Learning Center for Human Development, of which I have been a part for 20 years. I will be sharing more about both of these calls in future posts.
ALSO VERY EXCITING -- My first book, "No Change No Gain, It's All About Choices" is now available from my website as an E-book! For those of you in recovery from addictions, or just dealing with old repetitive behavior patterns, I've included exercises as well as personal sharings from my own journey as a recovered alcoholic, integrated with teachings from quantum physics and traditional earth-keepers ways. Check it out!
My CD "Songbyrd" is available from my site as well as Amazon and many independent distributors. This has none original songs that I perform vocals anf instrumentals on. Invlues my firs sobriety song, "For The First Time in My Life." You can preview all songs online www.cdbaby.com/debadler.
I am an avid Cagney and Lacey fan and would like to see a concerted effort to get the other seasons of DVD's out since the first season has been released, but MGM is waffling on releasing the rest. For my comments and efforts to help facilitate a writing campaign, go to www.cagneyandlacey.com, click on “Blogs”, then “Barney's Blog”. (The show's producer, Barney Rosenzweig, and author of the book Cagney, Lacey and Me.)
SO BLOG ME! Ask questions, share your thoughts. Remember Respect. I look forward to building a community together with you.
-Deb
please vote for this article at Stumble, Digg, Furl, Del.icio.us, and Facebook. Thanks!
So here's my first post, for those who missed it:
Welcome to my Blog! I'm excited about this new venture on my website and look forward to hearing from you!
There is only one law here: RESPECT. All are welcome who honor this. I reserve the right to pull any post that does not. Sweet and Simple. I welcome questions, comments, and information. Browse my website, www.debadler.com, to get to know more about me and what you may want to ask.I will be sharing my activities along the way.
I am co-producer of On Eagles' Wings Webcast Radio and we feature a live interactive conference call that is simu-cast at www.oneagleswingswebcast.com on Tuesdays at 4:30 pm, featuring studies of quantum physics and spiritual growth. We're currently studying and discussing Dr. Fred Alan Wolf's Book Matter Into Feeling.
In addition, we host an Ancient Teaching Call Monday at 9:00 pm (ES/DST) on On Eagles’ Wings Webcast Radio.. This call features the Venerable Parisha and members of the Learning Center for Human Development, of which I have been a part for 20 years. I will be sharing more about both of these calls in future posts.
ALSO VERY EXCITING -- My first book, "No Change No Gain, It's All About Choices" is now available from my website as an E-book! For those of you in recovery from addictions, or just dealing with old repetitive behavior patterns, I've included exercises as well as personal sharings from my own journey as a recovered alcoholic, integrated with teachings from quantum physics and traditional earth-keepers ways. Check it out!
My CD "Songbyrd" is available from my site as well as Amazon and many independent distributors. This has none original songs that I perform vocals anf instrumentals on. Invlues my firs sobriety song, "For The First Time in My Life." You can preview all songs online www.cdbaby.com/debadler.
I am an avid Cagney and Lacey fan and would like to see a concerted effort to get the other seasons of DVD's out since the first season has been released, but MGM is waffling on releasing the rest. For my comments and efforts to help facilitate a writing campaign, go to www.cagneyandlacey.com, click on “Blogs”, then “Barney's Blog”. (The show's producer, Barney Rosenzweig, and author of the book Cagney, Lacey and Me.)
SO BLOG ME! Ask questions, share your thoughts. Remember Respect. I look forward to building a community together with you.
-Deb
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