After a while you learn the subtle difference Between holding a hand and chaining a soul, And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning And company doesn’t mean security. And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts And presents aren’t promises,

And you begin to accept your defeats With your head up and your eyes open With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,

And you learn to build all your roads on today Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn That even sunshine burns if you get too much.

So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul, Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.” — Jorge Luis Borges, “You Learn” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I AM METH"

(This was written by a young Indian girl who was in jail for drug charges, and was addicted to meth. She wrote this while in jail. As you will soon read, she fully grasped the horrors of the drug, as she tells in this simple, yet profound poem. She was released from jail, but, true to her story, the drug owned her. They found her dead not long after, with the needle still in her arm.)

Please keep praying for our Children, Teens, Young adults. Understand,this thing is worse than any of us realize...

My Name: "Is Meth"

I destroy homes, I tear families apart, take your children, and that's just the start.

I'm more costly than diamonds, more precious than gold, The sorrow I bring is a sight to behold.

If you need me, remember I'm easily found, I live all around you - in schools and in town.

I live with the rich; I live with the poor, I live down the street, and maybe next door.

I'm made in a lab, but not like you think, I can be made under the kitchen sink. In your child's closet, and even in the woods, If this scares you to death, well it certainly should.

I have many names, but there's one you know best, I'm sure you've heard of me, my name is crystal meth.

My power is awesome; try me you'll see, But if you do, you may never break free.

Just try me once and I might let you go, But try me twice, and I'll own your soul.

When I possess you, you'll steal and you'll lie, You do what you have to -- just to get high.

The crimes you'll commit for my narcotic charms Will be worth the pleasure you'll feel in your arms, your lungs your nose.

You'll lie to your mother; you'll steal from your dad, When you see their tears, you should feel sad.

But you'll forget your morals and how you were raised, I'll be your conscience, I'll teach you my ways.

I take kids from parents, and parents from kids, I turn people from God, and separate friends.

I'll take everything from you, your looks and your pride, I'll be with you always -- right by your side.

You'll give up everything - your family, your home, Your friends, your money, then you'll be alone.

I'll take and take, till you have nothing more to give, When I'm finished with you, you'll be lucky to live.

If you try me be warned - this is no game, If given the chance, I'll drive you insane.

I'll ravish your body, I'll control your mind, I'll own you completely, your soul will be mine.

The nightmares I'll give you while lying in bed, The voices you'll hear, from inside your head.

The sweats, the shakes, the visions you'll see, I want you to know, these are all gifts from me.

But then it's too late, and you'll know in your heart, That you are mine, and we shall not part.

You'll regret that you tried me, they always do, But you came to me, not I to you.

You knew this would happen, many times you were told, But you challenged my power, and chose to be bold.

You could have said no, and just walked away, If you could live that day over, now what would you say?

I'll be your master, you will be my slave, I'll even go with you, when you go to your grave.

Now that you have met me, what will you do? Will you try me or not? It's all up to you.

I can bring you more misery than words can tell, Come take my hand, let me lead you to hell." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Invitation

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love for your dream for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon... I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain mine or your own without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy mine or your own if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful to be realistic to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure yours and mine and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

By Oriah © Mountain Dreaming from the book The Invitation

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ People often say things like, "I'm trying to find myself" or "I've lost myself in a relationship". The problem is that when we begin the search-and-rescue mission for identity, we are often so desperate to "belong" that we quickly identify with whatever it is we do for a living, the car we drive, the food we eat, etc. We fail to see that defining ourselves this way actually limits our understanding instead of expanding and clarifying our vastness.

When someone asks me, "Are you a Buddhist?" for example, I always say, "I'm a lot of things, but not one of them defines me". I hope our goal will always be to emulate the Buddha and be Buddha-like, not necessarily Buddhists.. or to be Christ-like, not necessarily Christian.

I'm not defined by the car I drive or what I do for a living; that is not who I am, it's what I do (right now), and it can all change in a minute! I play volleyball, for example, but that's something I do.. it's not who I am. Why is this distinction so important? Because if I ever stop playing sports for any reason, I wouldn't be losing my identity. How many times have we heard people say "I don't know who I am anymore" after a breakup, a death in the family, losing a job or a home, or moving somewhere new? That's because they identified themselves by that job, relationship or location (things that constantly change).

The easiest way I have discovered to work around this trap of getting attached to something temporary, is to add the words "right now" at the end of every sentence that begins with "I am ________". Because whatever you put at the end of that sentence will not always be true, even if it's true in this very moment, this year, or this lifetime. This practice honors the constant change of everything (including ourselves).

In the words of Tyler Durden, "You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your %#$* khakis"

May this release your grasp of the temporary and ease you into human BEING instead of DOING.

your brother Timber

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When things go wrong, as they sometimes will, When the road you're trudging seems all uphill, When the funds are low and the debts are high, And you want to smile, but you have to sigh, When care is pressing you down a bit- Rest if you must, but don't you quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns, As every one of us sometimes learns, And many a fellow turns about When he might have won had he stuck it out. Don't give up though the pace seems slow - You may succeed with another blow.

Often the goal is nearer than It seems to a faint and faltering man; Often the struggler has given up Whe he might have captured the victor's cup; And he learned too late when the night came down, How close he was to the golden crown.

Success is failure turned inside out - The silver tint in the clouds of doubt, And you never can tell how close you are, It might be near when it seems afar; So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit - It's when things seem worst that you must not quit.

~ Shared from Cindy (aka Harvest Honey on FB - one of her mother's favorite poems)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Listen, I know there were days you wanted to die when the sky was so clear you’d stand obnoxious underneath it begging for stars to shoot you just so you could feel at home. I know about the ways you misplaced all the right words, stockpiled every important social cue you ever missed from the first time you learned you were wrong, waited to make it right once everyone stopped watching. I know you let them beat up your beauty in bed because redemption was still alive in you, howling relentless, gathering strength. Felt like ecstasy when they pounded it out of you in the hard dark. Those days of dead weather got all strung together and they spoke for you, wore you down to telling everyone here it was a good life so you could run back into the wails of your windfight. I know the parts of your past that haunt you the most are the days you weren’t being yourself, and I know that’s why most of your past haunts you. There were so many who found you out, and they were right. You were good. So un- numb." - Buddy Wakefield