“As long as Man continues to be the ruthless destroyer of lower living beings, he will never know health or peace. For as long as men massacre animals, they will kill each other. Indeed, he who sows the seed of murder and pain cannot reap joy and love.”
In other words, don’t kill or eat animals. Be kind. Be VEGAN.
What the heck is going on here?
Sunday morning….
Carlsbad police arrested a 33-year-old man at a motel Sunday after he brandished a samurai sword at paramedics responding to an unrelated medical emergency.
Police were dispatched around 9:40 a.m. Sunday to the Carlsbad Village Inn, at 1006 Carlsbad Village Drive, according to the police.
Officers tried to make contact with the man, identified as Eliot Rauk of Lomita, through the door of his motel room. Rauk yelled through the door, threatening to kill approaching officers and brandished a handgun, seen through the motel room window.
Some areas of the motel were evacuated, with the Carlsbad SWAT team responding shortly afterward.
Rauk barricaded himself in the motel room for several hours while the police department’s Crisis Negotiation Team attempted to contact him by phone.
At 2:36 that afternoon, after police reached him, Rauk exited his room and was safely taken into custody.
After a thorough search of the room, authorities found a samurai sword and a semiautomatic handgun.
Rauk was transported to Tri-City Hospital for a medical evaluation and will be booked into Vista Jail on suspicion of making terrorist threats, unlawfully brandishing a weapon, and threats of violence against a police officer.
Two days before that, on Friday…
There was a shooting on the street in Carlsbad, which is a rare occurrence. I mean, this is a little beach town, not LA or Chicago.
An Oceanside man was arrested after shooting at a police officer during a traffic stop.
An officer with the Carlsbad Police Department stopped the driver for multiple traffic violations Friday night on Madison Street and Oak Avenue.
As the officer approached the vehicle, the driver pulled out a handgun and fired at least one round at the officer, police said.
“The officer immediately sought cover from the gunfire and returned fire with his service weapon,” the department said in a news release.
The suspect, later identified as 25-year-old Oceanside resident Patrick Harold Doherty, drove south about one-eighth of a block before stopping.
The officer called for additional units and a high-risk vehicle stop was conducted when more officers arrived, including a field supervisor and a police dog. The suspect complied with police and was apprehended several minutes later without further incident.
“Neither the suspect nor the officer was struck by gunfire. However, several rounds struck the suspect’s vehicle,” police said. “During a visual inspection of the van at the scene, a ghost-gun type handgun was seen on the driver’s side floorboard.”
Doherty was booked into Vista Jail on suspicion of attempted murder of a police officer, felony resisting, assault with a firearm on a police officer, and an outstanding arrest warrant for driving under the influence.
It seems like there’s no way to live without violence; it’s all around…in small towns, big cities, and other countries like Ukraine and Israel and Gaza.
It’s sad and scary to feel unsafe; how depressing.
(Info curated from Google.)
The world is going through some serious things, all very painful, all tragic.
One of my favorite aunts died yesterday, in her sleep. She was ninety-one years old and had a hard time coping with the death of her loving husband and a subsequent stroke. She was simply tired of being alive, even less after her youngest son recently died of cancer. Last week, her entire family (on the east coast) gathered by her side for her birthday but they said it was as if she was already transitioning, already thinning the veil between here and there or nowhere.
This Mary Oliver quote from her poem, “Invitation”, really says it all:
It is a serious thing
just to be alive
on this fresh morning
in the broken world
It could mean something.
It could mean everything.
I couldn’t find the special eclipse glasses we used in 2017 even though I know I saved them, so I used a colander and it made some really awesome crescents on a white background. The sun was only about 70% obscured here, no ring of fire, but super cool to safely experience.
Here’s a relevant poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850 – 1919)
A SOLAR ECLIPSE
In that great journey of the stars through space
About the mighty, all-directing Sun,
The pallid, faithful Moon, has been the one
Companion of the Earth. Her tender face,
Pale with the swift, keen purpose of that race,
Which at Time’s natal hour was first begun,
Shines ever on her lover as they run
And lights his orbit with her silvery smile.
Sometimes such passionate love doth in her rise,
Down from her beaten path she softly slips,
And with her mantle veils the Sun’s bold eyes,
Then in the gloaming finds her lover’s lips.
While far and near the men our world call wise
See only that the Sun is in eclipse.
I don’t know about you, but today has been a day full of frustrations, miscommunications, stress, anxiety, and a general sense of agitation and discord everywhere I turn.
People tell me they didn’t get my emails that I CLEARLY have a record of sending while one misunderstood word engendered disagreements and verbal sparring before the matter was cleared up.
I don’t like stress, not that anyone really does, I guess. but for me, stressful situations cause my poor little heart to pump too hard and raise my blood pressure.
This is when I need to practice breathing and meditation. It will all work out, I’m sure, but in the meantime, I won’t really be able to relax.
In addition to the annular “ring of fire” solar eclipse on the 14th, in SoCal we’re on the verge of a Santa Ana weather event; windy, very low humidity, and lots of swirling energy, so it’s probably a good idea to go outside and water my plants to redirect my mind.
BREATHE!
Oh, and stay hydrated, ‘cos when I get stressed, I shut down and don’t eat or drink, so I’m sitting here with a giant water bottle. There’s nothing worse than a dehydration headache.
This year, October 9 is known as Columbus Day. Some states have proposed legislation to legally replace it with Indigenous Peoples’ Day, as of today, none have passed.
I don’t acknowledge Columbus Day because it’s more of the same; entitled males making unilateral decisions without regard for anything but their own selfishness.
Columbus Day has since come under fire as a celebration of a man whose arrival in the Americas heralded the oppression of another group of people: Native Americans.
Indigenous Peoples’ Day honors the truth about the American soil on which we live. It serves as a counter-celebration to Columbus Day by recognizing the perseverance and contributions of Indigenous people across the United States.
Even the Angel Kids know what this day really is all about, and good for my son/DIL talking TRUTH to the next generation.
From President Joe Biden:
On Indigenous Peoples’ Day, we honor the perseverance and courage of Indigenous peoples, show our gratitude for the myriad contributions they have made to our world, and renew our commitment to respect Tribal sovereignty and self-determination.
The story of America’s Indigenous peoples is a story of their resilience and survival; of their persistent commitment to their right to self-governance; and of their determination to preserve cultures, identities, and ways of life. Long before European explorers sailed to this continent, Native American and Alaska Native Nations made this land their home, some for thousands of years before the United States was founded. They built many Nations that created powerful, prosperous, and diverse cultures, and they developed knowledge and practices that still benefit us today.
But throughout our Nation’s history, Indigenous peoples have faced violence and devastation that has tested their limits. For generations, it was the shameful policy of our Nation to remove Indigenous peoples from their homelands; force them to assimilate; and ban them from speaking their own languages, passing down ancient traditions, and performing sacred ceremonies. Countless lives were lost, precious lands were taken, and their way of life was forever changed. In spite of unimaginable loss and seemingly insurmountable odds, Indigenous peoples have persisted. They survived. And they continue to be an integral part of the fabric of the United States.
Read the rest of it here:
https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/presidential-actions/2023/10/06/a-proclamation-on-indigenous-peoples-day-2023/
“I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.” — Emily Dickinson
I’ve had the strangest dreams these last couple of days. Now I know why…as above, so below.
This weekend, several cosmic events combine to create a unique energy mix. These include the Equinox, the beginning of Libra Season, solar storms, and various planetary retrogrades.
The Equinox signifies a balance between day and night and encourages us to reflect on our lives, asking if we’re in sync with our true selves.
Libra Season brings a sense of harmony, emphasizing cooperation, reciprocation, and compromise in our interactions with others.
Solar storms, bursts of energy from the Sun, may intensify our emotions, disrupt our sleep, and lead to vivid dreams.
The upcoming weekend offers us a cosmic reset, an opportunity for personal growth, and the promise of blessings and opportunities as we step into the next season. It’s a time that will leave us feeling refreshed and in harmony with ourselves. Curated from Alex Myles
Feel the fear and do it anyway.
Susan Jeffers was a psychologist and best-selling author. Although she died in 2012, her universal messages of love and gratitude continues to touch us, along with her belief that joy, not happiness, is the goal of life.
From her book, Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway:
And what is joy? It is something that expresses the ebullience of the spiritual part of ourselves. Joy is characterized by lightness, humor, laughter, and gaiety. Lighten up. If you have ever been around a person who is centered and enlightened, you are struck with their humor and ability to laugh at themselves. All the brittleness is gone and only fluidity remains.
So commit! Commit yourself to pushing through the fear and becoming more than you are at the present moment. The you that could be is absolutely colossal. You don’t need to change what you are doing— simply commit to learning how to bring to whatever you do in life the loving and powerful energy of your Higher Self.
I woke up this morning to a glorious blood-red sky.
It was about 6:30 or so, and I realized what day it was.
This was about the same time, twenty-two years ago, that I had taken my first sip of coffee and turned on the news to learn that the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center had been crashed into by hijacked jets.
I woke up my son and while we huddled together watching TV, there were other reported terrorist attacks on the Pentagon and a crash in Pennsylvania.
The September 11 attacks of 2001 caused the deaths of nearly 3000 victims and nineteen hijackers. Thousands more were injured and long-term health effects have arisen as a consequence of the attacks.
This sky is a poignant reminder of that tragic day.
William James Collins is an American poet who served as the Poet Laureate of the United States from 2001 to 2003.
The Names is his poem about 9/11.
Yesterday, I lay awake in the palm of the night.
A soft rain stole in, unhelped by any breeze,
And when I saw the silver glaze on the windows,
I started with A, with Ackerman, as it happened,
Then Baxter and Calabro,
Davis and Eberling, names falling into place
As droplets fell through the dark.
Names printed on the ceiling of the night.
Names slipping around a watery bend.
Twenty-six willows on the banks of a stream.
In the morning, I walked out barefoot
Among thousands of flowers
Heavy with dew like the eyes of tears,
And each had a name --
Fiori inscribed on a yellow petal
Then Gonzalez and Han, Ishikawa and Jenkins.
Names written in the air
And stitched into the cloth of the day.
A name under a photograph taped to a mailbox.
Monogram on a torn shirt,
I see you spelled out on storefront windows
And on the bright unfurled awnings of this city.
I say the syllables as I turn a corner --
Kelly and Lee,
Medina, Nardella, and O'Connor.
When I peer into the woods,
I see a thick tangle where letters are hidden
As in a puzzle concocted for children.
Parker and Quigley in the twigs of an ash,
Rizzo, Schubert, Torres, and Upton,
Secrets in the boughs of an ancient maple.
Names written in the pale sky.
Names rising in the updraft amid buildings.
Names silent in stone
Or cried out behind a door.
Names blown over the earth and out to sea.
In the evening -- weakening light, the last swallows.
A boy on a lake lifts his oars.
A woman by a window puts a match to a candle,
And the names are outlined on the rose clouds --
Vanacore and Wallace,
(let X stand, if it can, for the ones unfound)
Then Young and Ziminsky, the final jolt of Z.
Names etched on the head of a pin.
One name spanning a bridge, another undergoing a tunnel.
A blue name needled into the skin.
Names of citizens, workers, mothers and fathers,
The bright-eyed daughter, the quick son.
Alphabet of names in a green field.
Names in the small tracks of birds.
Names lifted from a hat
Or balanced on the tip of the tongue.
Names wheeled into the dim warehouse of memory.
So many names, there is barely room on the walls of the heart. -- Billy Collins
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 