Julie's Journal

Haiku
In this shallow shell of time,
don't splash. Each moment
precious as a perfect pearl.
A valentines Day tale

This is a Valentines Day tale about a romance between two sociopaths named Unbridled Power and Limitless Money. The flame of their passion burned so bright that it ignited chaos and calamity in every direction. Nations floundered, cherished institutions crumbled, nature shriveled, children went hungry and the sick went untreated. But the lovers were so enthralled by their newfound dominion, they were oblivious to the destruction they had spawned.
Soon, however, their fiery union was dampened by the fire hose of their individual egos. Instead of feeding their mutual flame, their need for dominance caused their passion to flicker and fade. In time, their great romance was reduced to dead embers on the ash heap of history.
The end.
Soon, however, their fiery union was dampened by the fire hose of their individual egos. Instead of feeding their mutual flame, their need for dominance caused their passion to flicker and fade. In time, their great romance was reduced to dead embers on the ash heap of history.
The end.
A time for hope

Today is the Celtic feast of Imbolc, marking the time when the seeds and roots below ground begin to stir in anticipation of spring. The holiday also honors Brigid, the patroness of the mother, the healer, the poet, the metal smith.
Blessed Brigid, you are the promise of spring, when the darkness of winter begins to yield to the growing light.
You are the mistress of forge and fire, molding what is hard and unmalleable into beauty and service.
You are the conjurer of water that nurtures all life, water that gently caresses the earth and yet holds the power to move mountains.
You are the poet, the songstress, the artist who breathes inspiration into the mundane.
You are the midwife to all creation, the stained glass wings of the butterfly teaching us rebirth.
Blessed Brigid, you are the promise of spring, when the darkness of winter begins to yield to the growing light.
You are the mistress of forge and fire, molding what is hard and unmalleable into beauty and service.
You are the conjurer of water that nurtures all life, water that gently caresses the earth and yet holds the power to move mountains.
You are the poet, the songstress, the artist who breathes inspiration into the mundane.
You are the midwife to all creation, the stained glass wings of the butterfly teaching us rebirth.
On living and dying

1-19-25
I saw a spot on the news the other day about a guy in his 40s who claims to have reversed the aging process using nutrition, various technical modalities and strength training. He believes that his generation will be the first to live forever.
While he’s busy chasing immortality, others are deep in the bowels of seasonal despair after a lonely holiday season and the cold, dark atmospherics of winter. Forget eternal life! For them, enduring another day of living is a struggle.
Meanwhile on New Year’s Eve, two separate domestic terrorists set off car bombs in crowded places. These American-born nihilists with military experience, who once swore to serve and protect life, apparently decided ideology was more important than human life.
Our collective dance between living and dying is such a mystery to me. While some treasure life so greatly that they’re willing to use up their present to pursue an unending future, these efforts are futile in the face of exploding car bombs. And life extension promises a living hell for those who are perennially unhappy. The joy of living springs from a sense of purpose and meaning, love and community, but for those afflicted by depression, nothing seems to relieve the pain of the slow march toward welcome death.
Our forefathers bequeathed us the right to pursue happiness. How are we doing?
I saw a spot on the news the other day about a guy in his 40s who claims to have reversed the aging process using nutrition, various technical modalities and strength training. He believes that his generation will be the first to live forever.
While he’s busy chasing immortality, others are deep in the bowels of seasonal despair after a lonely holiday season and the cold, dark atmospherics of winter. Forget eternal life! For them, enduring another day of living is a struggle.
Meanwhile on New Year’s Eve, two separate domestic terrorists set off car bombs in crowded places. These American-born nihilists with military experience, who once swore to serve and protect life, apparently decided ideology was more important than human life.
Our collective dance between living and dying is such a mystery to me. While some treasure life so greatly that they’re willing to use up their present to pursue an unending future, these efforts are futile in the face of exploding car bombs. And life extension promises a living hell for those who are perennially unhappy. The joy of living springs from a sense of purpose and meaning, love and community, but for those afflicted by depression, nothing seems to relieve the pain of the slow march toward welcome death.
Our forefathers bequeathed us the right to pursue happiness. How are we doing?

Listen to the fire
1-16-25
As fire devours entire communities in southern California, I grieve for the loss of life, of precious belongings and all the life they represent. It is truly heartbreaking on a personal level. But what is the spirit fire trying to tell us?
We know that all life depends on fire, from our fiery sun to the warmth of the hearth, the illumination of darkness and even the burning energy within our own bodies. Without fire there is no life. But now it seems to turn against us. Or is fire just trying to tell us something?
The Earth is burning up. Every year, the average temperature increases and we are like the oblivious frog in a pot that is slowly heating on the stove. Glaciers are melting, the rising seas are slowly swallowing up islands and coastal lands as record-breaking droughts shrivel crops all over the world.
Over recent decades, fire has devastated vast forests and all the living beings in residence. So many millions of ancient trees with all their wisdom were lost to us. But still we have ignored the voice of the fire and so this year, for the first time, it has turned on us in our homes. What’s next?
Today I invite you to perform a personal ceremony to honor the spirit of fire and thank it for all the blessings it brings. Light a candle, and bless yourself with burning sage or tobacco if you have any on hand. Incense works too. Write down a little prayer to the fire on a slip of paper and light it with the candle. Watch it burn as you invite the light of the flame to carry your prayer into the Universe. Then sit quietly for a little while and contemplate what the fire may be asking of you. What steps can you take, small or large, to help heal our warming planet.
1-16-25
As fire devours entire communities in southern California, I grieve for the loss of life, of precious belongings and all the life they represent. It is truly heartbreaking on a personal level. But what is the spirit fire trying to tell us?
We know that all life depends on fire, from our fiery sun to the warmth of the hearth, the illumination of darkness and even the burning energy within our own bodies. Without fire there is no life. But now it seems to turn against us. Or is fire just trying to tell us something?
The Earth is burning up. Every year, the average temperature increases and we are like the oblivious frog in a pot that is slowly heating on the stove. Glaciers are melting, the rising seas are slowly swallowing up islands and coastal lands as record-breaking droughts shrivel crops all over the world.
Over recent decades, fire has devastated vast forests and all the living beings in residence. So many millions of ancient trees with all their wisdom were lost to us. But still we have ignored the voice of the fire and so this year, for the first time, it has turned on us in our homes. What’s next?
Today I invite you to perform a personal ceremony to honor the spirit of fire and thank it for all the blessings it brings. Light a candle, and bless yourself with burning sage or tobacco if you have any on hand. Incense works too. Write down a little prayer to the fire on a slip of paper and light it with the candle. Watch it burn as you invite the light of the flame to carry your prayer into the Universe. Then sit quietly for a little while and contemplate what the fire may be asking of you. What steps can you take, small or large, to help heal our warming planet.