The Light Within


December is my favorite time of year.  In this month of darkness, in this the darkest month, the light of the human spirit shines forth in a fullness shown by so many, in so many ways.  As the days grow shorter, houses and trees are decorated, and snow falls.  In the hushed silence of the nights, lights shine in windows, and the beauty is shared by all.  For this season of giving brings the festivals of lights: Hanukkah, Christmas, Kwanza.  Each tradition incorporates light in its ceremonies and decorations.

In December’s darkness we light lights.  For we are beings of light.  A light glows within each one of us.  And, at the most basic level, we are beings of light because we are made from stardust.  Perhaps that is why the stars hold such majesty for us– we are made from star material.

Einstein said: “A human being is part of the whole, called by us the ‘Universe”– a part limited in time and space.  He experiences himself, his thoughts, and feelings, as something separated from the rest– a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness.  This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest us.  Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circles of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.”  We are all cut from the same cloth and our inner light unites us.

And in this holiday season we behold the night sky as shepherds did two thousand years ago on the birth of the holy infant, in a stable like the one down the road where my donkey friend lives.  That night a star lit the whole sky to guide the shepherds, and on these deep, long, silent nights as we light our houses, our candles, our trees, let us look inside ourselves and find the glow that may guide us to The Light

A holy Hanukkah, a magical Christmas and the ecstasy of Sadhguru to all for the New Year!  May we awaken from Maya and realize the wonders we are… for inside each of us burns the Sacred Light of the Universe.

R.I.P. “Rabbit” with Love, Mouse

My friend
My friend with cancer
My friend
My friend who had chemo
Three runs of chemo
Two surgeries
My friend who was cured
Whose cancer had gone
My friend who was cured
Who wanted to write a book
Who wrote to me often
Who listened to me with Heart
My friend
Where did he go?
Why did he die?
Why when he was starting anew
With his wife who stood by him
Helped him when he was sick
Why did he die?
I want to know
Where did he go?
I want to know if the chemo
Killed him
It did not help my father,
My mother, my brother
My best friend
I thought I was wrong
I thought this time it helped my friend
Yes, it helped him alright
It killed him!
Why did he have to die?
My friend, “Rabbit,” Rest in Peace
Love forever, Mouse



How Trump Showed Me I was Behind Bars

P1080675A letter to my dear friend…
Hi Anjali,
Don’t know how you are doing but I am out of control.  Tears and anger.  Never thought I was a feminist but now I feel like raging against the white male political establishment just as I  always raged against the white male medical establishment.  Trying not to take this out on Tom but he has treated me like a defective person at times, too.  A neighbor was raging against Trump today and I got all riled up again.  But he listened to Tom, not to me although I said the very same things. The more I think about this the more I think women are dumped on as much as, or perhaps even more so, than  blacks.  I am furious that the FBI investigator Comey got away with what he did though I think Hillary will make a case against him.  I am furious that no one listened to Obama.  That rural white women listened to their husbands and obeyed them.  I kept the word “obey” out of the marriage vows with Tom.  We wrote our own ceremony.  I am furious at my uncle asked me who I was voting for and furious at myself for telling him though I knew he was voting for Trump.  I am furious for him calling my candidate “crooked Hillary”.  I am furious that my friend John, with whom I thought shared the same values called the Clintons crooks, and that he, as a Columbia educated white male whom I helped through medical school, should be for the evil that is Trump.  I am furious that our male Latino super thinks he is playing me as a fool and treats me as a nice half wit.
  I am mad as hell!!  Sorry for the rant but I am a fool.  I didn’t know I was a feminist.  Now feminism is raging inside me.  Trump treated Hillary so badly.  It should be vindicated.  And instead it is cheered on by the red necks, the majority of white rural males.  Yes, even the police and the fire fighters, as courageous as they are, feed into the culture of male dominance.
Can you relate to any of this?  Are you feeling sad, mad, sick?
Excuse the very long rant.  I feel like I may explode.
Hope you are relaxing with John and not in the state I am in.



The hush

of  predawn

in which

the moon




into the black hole

of the tail end

of night


A similar moment

years ago

 in my arms

as she struggled to breathe

already half the battle


 one prick of the needle

 instantly limp

a hushed end

to a soulmate

our baby


Why can’t we


go this way

as softly as

a moon setting

in the whisper

of predawn

of a new day?

Who is I?


  Mooji makes it all so simple.  His gift is to simplify and pare things down to basics.  Hoping that the beautiful, short video below may offer a new awareness. Many of you are way beyond this lesson.  But for those of us struggling to understand, you don’t need to go to the mountain.   Listen to Mooji and “see.” 

Nature’s Prayers


Still yourself

and fold your hands




stand in awe


radiate His light


with eyes upwards




the telephone


to the sky


and comtemplate


the glory that is He

Windows into Worlds: Bike Culture Up Close

 A closer look into the biker shop window in Saugerties, NY




Windows into Worlds: Bike Culture

We recently toured Saugerties, NY and I found this interesting window full of biker paraphernalia and decided to play with the subject and the reflections of the town in the window.




Gardening Reflections 1.3





Gardening Reflections 1.2






Gardening Reflections 1.1