weary

It’s amazing to see the kind of plaything a child loves and craves. For example, a big empty cardboard box. A little snip here and there and presto, a small house, or a store, or a spaceship.

Their imagination is so intense and vast and immediate – that it can go way beyond the “stuff” in front of them, and “grow” their own little world.

Artwork by Bruce Zboray www.bruce-zboray.artistwebsites.com


I am drawn to thin books. Books you can read in one or two sittings. With pictures or a fancy border – like an ancient manuscript – decorated. And a hard cover with cloth, where you can feel the weave.

Others may enjoy epic novels of a thousand pages – not I. Maybe it’s me wanting to “know” the whole book at once – no need of bookmarks for me.

Whenever I paint something: the walls of a room, a piece of furniture, an oil painting – I really look forward to seeing it again when it is dry. It’s like God, time, something unseen needs to intervene to finish it.

It’s not done until it’s really all done.

The same with gluing something together – next day, all those pieces are one whole thing again. The same with waiting for the scrapbook page to dry or waiting for pottery to bake.

Now, some people would rather wait for some muffins to bake far more than some pottery to bake. I understand this well.

Sometimes knowing you have a choice isn’t obvious. Sort of, “What, I can choose?”

I do not read the newspapers, nor watch the news.

I choose my reality.

I sometimes imagine myself in a place of turmoil like Jerusalem. I stand there, eyes closed, with ripples of “illumination” going out from me, as if a pebble were tossed in a pond. Every second, going out hundreds of miles.

Then, at the same time, I picture myself in the center of China, doing the same.

New Earth is not a place, but a way of living.

A way of experiencing earth a different way – joyful, playful, conscious, and aware.

I live on New Earth, or rather, “in” New Earth.

I am very aware of what I am thinking and saying. Always, as best I can, choosing positive over negative. So, I am constantly editing and guiding my thoughts, rather than letting them run rampant.

I am drawn to where the past lingers on, like Sturbridge Village Museum in Massachusetts, where people dress up in yesteryear clothes and character. It is truly amazing how these people fit their parts so well, as if being transported back 300 years.

Seeing the farmer in a long coat shepherding a flock of sheep thru the village green.

Seeing the potter casually spinning a clay pot.

Seeing the tinker making a lantern of tin or a candleholder of pewter.

Seeing how they cook in a hearth with an open fragrant log fire.

Musical beginning of Claire de Lune performed by and courtesy of Amber Short - https://www.ambershort.us/media/music/piano/Claire_de_Lune.wav


I’ve found that “Claire de Lune” has a very healing sound. I use muscle testing, also known as kinesiology, to test on a scale of 1 to 10 the power of healing for a particular piece of music.

The instrument doesn’t matter. It is the underlying music that presents this healing quality.

My wife lost her glasses. They were missing for over 3 weeks. Each of the four of us in this home tried looking for them several times over – we just could not find them.

Then I tried something different. Instead of telling the universe, “Oh my, the glasses are missing.” I said out loud, “Thank you for showing me the glasses.” I hopped into the future with the end result being the glasses were in my hand, and being thankful for that too.