Monday, March 30, 2020

An Afternoon Walk


I just got home from a short walk in my neighborhood on this last Saturday in March 2020. Such a walk has not generally been a part of my daily routine. But with Covid-19 keeping everyone home, and my regular gym at the nearby YMCA closed due to the shutdown, it seems like a reasonable temporary substitute for daily exercise. It is not a long walk due to my physical limitations. But it provides a challenge to be accomplished, a beneficial movement of the body, and makes the chocolate chip cookie reward at the end even more satisfying.

On this particular day, we are experiencing a summer day preview: sunny, in the mid-80s, expected to last for a couple of days more. Then it will be back into the normal mid-50s/60s mountain temperatures, with more rain. It was a very mild winter, but I am still glad to have that season behind us.

We are preparing for a statewide “stay at home” order on Monday 5pm, though we are already in a county/city version of the same. During this walk I was struck by the abnormal silence of the city. Minimal traffic on the roads, a few people out for a walk or jog, keeping a safe distance as they pass one another. Meanwhile, the sights and sounds of the birds are more than happy to fill the air space. The garden plants are gradually peeking out to fill the eye space, perhaps dwarfed by the cascade of colors from the rainbow of fruit trees that make their appearance at this time. There is much to see and hear that is normally missed in our hurried busyness. Humanity thrashes around in its self-made chaos; Nature follows its own timeline and routines relatively undisturbed.

In the quiet of that stroll, there is time and space to think. To listen to my thoughts – thoughts different than those that arise during a formal mediation sit on the cushion. The pandemic virus seeks to consume much of our thinking time and energy. I feel the unavoidable concern about my own well-being, yet offset by a calm that says “do only what you can do when you can” – deal with what comes as it comes. Planning is good, but too many “what ifs” are not helpful.

I am aware of feeling intense anger at the erratic conduct of our President, his pettiness and complete avoidance of taking responsibility for anything. His untrue information. His lack of a cogent and coordinated plan. His ineffectiveness in directing badly needed resources and support to where it is needed most. But then that anger is replaced by a calmness and pride when I consider all the people stepping up – either in their official capacity or simply ad hoc, voluntary  responses. Governors, mayors, county/city officials, health care providers, CDC scientists speaking truth. Public service employees keeping our infrastructure running. Law enforcement officials, and numerous first responders. Meanwhile, the overriding priority is to remember the anonymous sick, the faceless statistics often known only to their family and loved ones, lying alone in their bed, in pain and trying to stay alive, accompanied only by the medical workers trying to keep them alive in the face of too many falsely-raised hopes and broken promises. The lament continues unendingly: where are the test kits, the masks, the ventilators?

We also need to acknowledge the everyday citizens responding to what is being asked of them. Voluntarily cooperating in what is a massive upheaval to their lives – emotionally, economically, professionally, socially, and daily family life. Most are improvising, making it up as they go into a future filled with blind spots. Doing what needs to be done, adapting on the fly, all because they care. Care about each other. Care about their connection to others. And thereby, their responsibilities to each other. Individually and together, they make us proud.

I have written before about our connection to one another, most recently an essay on this blogsite “A Slice Of Toast” (12/10/2019). Across the globe, for the last several years we have been experiencing a drive to separate ourselves from one another. To hunker down in our own cultural and geographic pockets and keep out those who are not like us. When this pandemic virus finally passes – which it ultimately will – things will not be the same. There will be much retrospective analysis needed, questions to ask, lessons to learn.

One of those biggest lessons will most certainly be a reaffirmation of our connection, our interdependence to one another. Indeed, our connection to all forms of life, and the gift of Nature that makes it all possible. Covid-19 knows no borders. Differentiates no race or ethnic group. Endorses no religion. Ignores variations of age, gender, and lifestyles. None of these labels affirms or exempts us. We can choose to respond by separating out of fear, or coming together out of love. Underneath our words, our practices, our costumes, our skin, we are all fundamentally the same. Equally vulnerable, equally of great potential accomplishment, equally in need of each other to survive and thrive. It appears that we need to continue to be reminded of that periodically.

These were my thoughts on a quiet spring afternoon’s walk. What will you think about on your next afternoon’s walk?

©   2020   Randy Bell             https://OurSpiritualWay.blogspot.com


Wednesday, January 1, 2020

My New Year's Wish


With a changing of the yearly calendar, this is the time when expressions of “Happy New Year” and “Best Wishes for the New Year” abound. For many, it is also an opportunity for a time of reflection on events past, an assessment of time present, and determination of directions to pursue in the forthcoming year. In that spirit of reflection, assessment, and determination, I offer some ideas that may be appropriate for your consideration.

My New Year’s wish is that we reflect upon our myriad ancestors and their stories, some known to us yet most unknown, whose widely varied lives made our lives possible in this time, place, and setting – we are because they were.

My New Year’s wish is that we strive to see our parents simply as the non-idealized adults that they are/were, with their own everyday struggles reflecting their own life experiences, that we may see them through the adult eyes of our present rather than the childhood eyes of our past, a key to living in the present not the past.

My New Year’s wish is that we thank our extended family for the lessons and experiences of our childhood, some magical, some difficult, that brought us to the threshold of our adulthood and sent us on the path we have subsequently chosen to live.

My New Year’s wish is that we prioritize time for our immediate family, for the love and presence that they give us as we struggle to hold them close, yet free them to live and fulfill their own destinies.

My New Year’s wish is that we remember our many friends encountered over the years, some but for a moment in time, others still traveling with us on our journey, some more honest or dependable than others, but all serving to enrich the life that we are living.

My New Year’s wish is that we recall the many teachers that have helped to guide our lives, some in formal teaching roles and others simply by their presence in our lives, some teaching from their knowledge, some inspiring by their example, all providing a foundation upon which we seek to build a “next generation.”

My New Year’s wish is that we acknowledge and respect the many mentors who have reached out to us, and opened opportunities and smoothed our way, whether intentionally or by happenstance, without whom our life would have meandered in wholly different directions with far different results.

My New Year’s wish is that we come to embrace the challenges and regrets that have occurred on our journey, some smaller bumps in the road, others extraordinarily difficult to pass through, many of which resulted in positive outcomes only seen well after the moment.

My New Year’s wish is that we learn to live comfortably with persons seemingly not like ourselves, to have respectful conversations of differing opinions, and to no longer see each other as different but as diverse reflections of the vast creative breadth of God’s Universe.

My New Year’s wish is that we allow ourselves to have big dreams, the confidence to strive for them, the ability to ignore the many naysayers, and the courage to manifest them into our own unbridled joy.

My New Year’s wish is that, as a result of this time of reflection, assessment, and determination, we reconnect with our true inner self, the self that transcends our daily life and our many roles, thereby infusing the spirituality of our being within all that we do and to all whom we encounter.

©   2020   Randy Bell                         https://OurSpiritualWay.blogspot.com


Sunday, December 1, 2019

A Slice Of Toast


“When we try to take out one thing,
we find it hitched to everything else in the universe.”
—John Muir, western U.S. conservationist

We are a unique person in this world, different from all others. We like thinking of ourselves as being unique, even as we may struggle to identify that which makes us unique and then genuinely live that uniqueness. But uniqueness can feel quite lonely, as our uniqueness also works to separate us all from all others, from all things surrounding us. That separation thereby creates barriers that oppose our concurrent desire for community. It is Community that gives us the sense of Connection to all that surrounds our life, and mitigates that aloneness we seek to avoid, that we often fear. Yet Community demands that we surrender some measure of our uniqueness by seeing and accepting our Commonality. Our uniqueness is actually only partial, a piece, of a life that otherwise is shared with, and common to, others. Our life is a balancing act. Our lives are built on a foundation common to all; our uniqueness flourishes in the manner in which we live our daily lives. It is in discovering, and living from, that common core, that our connection to one another will be found.

We are connected in myriad ways. For example, look closely at the construction of our bodies. The miracle of the human form is a series of separate body parts, cells, organs and fluids. Each component has a distinct purpose and job, all intricately interconnected together to make it work – mostly without our conscious awareness or doing anything. It just happens. All of the parts create the singular whole. Are we the parts? Or are we the whole? The elegant design of our interconnected body sets the theme for our interconnection with all that is in the world.

Look outside our physical self. When I fix a slice of toast for my morning breakfast, do I stop to reflect on how many people, and how many individual steps, were required for that toast to show up on my plate? The farmer that sowed the seed and grew the grain and harvested the result – all thanks to Nature who provided the dirt, the seed, the sunshine, the rain, the bumblebee that interacted to allow the grain to grow. The grain wholesaler who received the grain and then hired the driver to deliver the grain in a truck to the baker – a truck made by hundreds of people in the parts and materials chain. The baker that combined the grain with the other needed ingredients – each of which separately followed a similar creation and delivery process performed by similar people – to bake the bread. The next driver who carried the baked bread in his/her truck to the grocery store, the various workers who received the bread and put it on the shelves for us to carry it to the counter person to pay for it. The people and materials who built the car in which we took it home, to be put into the stove (manufactured by still others) that runs on gas/electricity  provided by numerous utility workers.

All of these people and steps need to come together in order for that simple piece of toast to appear on our breakfast plate. If we should then choose to add some jam onto that toast, the entire cycle is repeated. We must now consider all these additional people who have to get involved for our benefit, just for that little extra added pleasure. It makes for a very large crowd gathered around our dining table.

All rivers from which we drink ultimately flow to the one ocean that circumnavigates the earth – one interconnected ocean in spite of the intangible names by which we separate them. All of the air we breathe moves uninterrupted across man-made borders, respecting no boundaries – the woman in Oklahoma sneezes and the man in China says “god bless you.” It is by taking the time to look behind the curtain of our uniqueness that we find the many Connections that truly make our life possible. Make our life worthwhile.

We are not alone in this world, even when we may think we are. For all the people, things and tasks that go into supporting us, we are also simultaneously part of many similar webs that support others. The obligation is on us to think about, to acknowledge, to connect to all those people and things that make our life possible – in whatever form we may choose to live it. We will always give attention to living our individual life. But it is only when we live a life connected to all things that we can experience God’s life – the life we are intended to follow.

We are each singular; we are all plural. Interconnected with all things – human, non-human, inanimate. Like the pebble thrown into the lake, the ever-expanding ripple effects of my life ultimately reach far beyond that which I can see. I am one; I am all. The whole of the Universe can be found in a simple slice of toast.

“How are we?”
—Bishop Desmond Tutu, from traditional African greeting of Connection



©   2019   Randy Bell             https://OurSpiritualWay.blogspot.com

Sunday, September 22, 2019

A Lifetime Of Change


My great aunt, Bertie Ardelle Lee, was born in 1880. She died in 1974, having lived a full life of 94 years. Over the years, I have often thought about what her lifetime encompassed, the vastly different experiences she encountered, and the extraordinary changes that occurred in America and the world – all bookended by the dates on her tombstone.

She was born into an era of Conestoga wagons and horse-drawn buggies, and sailboats and paddlewheel ships. The railroad had only recently connected the two coasts, bringing a new option for travelers and the distribution of agricultural and manufactured goods. Combined with the telegraph wires running alongside the train tracks, intra-national communication could now be accomplished in days, rather than months.

In Aunt Bertie’s childhood years, the telephone would arrive, allowing real-time conversation across ever-increasing distances. As a young married woman, she heard about human beings flying in the air, and watched silent movies (“flickers”) in awe. As a fulltime mom, she sat in her living room listening to the squeaking sounds of news and entertainment out of a box they called a “radio,” or scratchy music playing on “the Victrola.”  Electric lights replaced the flames of candlelight and the dangerous gas and oil lamps; automobiles replaced horse-drawn wagons, thereby displacing most blacksmiths and wagon-manufacturers.

In her middle through late ages, she lived through the prosperity and excesses of the Jazz Age, the economic collapse and poverty of the Great Depression, followed by the greatest expansion of middle-class economic growth and distributed prosperity due to the post-WWII boom recovery. The big changes of her early life moved into their 2nd- and 3rd-generation product cycle: silent movies became “talkies”; expanded automobile ownership led to new roads crisscrossing the nation; rotary dialing phones replaced switchboard operators. Television almost bankrupted the radio and movie industries. Air travel – begun 20 years after her birth – went from novelty solo flights into airlines moving passengers great distances in short timelines; five years before her death, two men landed on the moon. Over the course of her life, she also lived through five American wars.

Perhaps the biggest and most affecting change for Aunt Bertie came in the arena of social change, and the push to expand true civil rights and equality for all. Born in northern Alabama, the daughter of a Confederate Civil War veteran, surrounded by a post-Reconstruction / Jim Crow segregated culture and legal system, she was steeped in the ways of the Old South. As a young bride, she moved to western Arkansas with its familiar system of African-American segregation in schools, housing, public accommodations and services, along with limited voting and legal rights. She became a local leader of the United Daughters of the Confederacy, an organization dedicated to preserving “the old ways” and glorifying “the Lost Cause.” I had left my hometown by the time the various civil rights movements (e.g. African-Americans, women, gays) exploded into the nation’s consciousness in the 1960s, so I never had an opportunity to talk with her about whether she had moved away from her cultural heritage. Besides, these were not conversations that one tended to have in family social gatherings – Jim Crow being nurtured by a conspiracy of silence. Regardless of what her thinking might have come to be, I suspect that an African-American being elected President 35 years after her death would have been beyond her capacity to even envision, much less comprehend.

I have written often about constant change being an inherent and unavoidable aspect of the human story. Little today is what it was yesterday, nor what it will be tomorrow. The only substantive discussion is how different the change will be, and how prepared one will be to respond to it. Some changes are self-initiated by an intent to alter the specifics of our life and to proactively move toward those alterations. Others are brought on by outside agents of change: nature, social convention, the aging process, cultural movements, decision-makers, or the spiritual Universe. Some change happens due to our being part of a larger group; others are personal to us individually. Whether sourced internally or externally, our reactions can be either positive and welcoming, or negative and defensive, yet are often fearful when anticipating as yet unknown outcomes. At times we simply dig in our heels and adopt a “stand pat” posture – a bulwark of resistance to the impending change – either because we disagree with the change calling to us, or this latest change is just one too many to take on.

I have seen many changes during my lifetime. But my changes pale in comparison to what Aunt Bertie experienced. From Conestogas to the moon, the world she was born into seems irreconcilable with the one she left behind a lifetime later. The reality is that each living thing, and all civilizations, move over time. The lifestyle, cultural environments, and beliefs we are so enamored with today will virtually disappear within a few short generations, so we should not unduly be held captive by them. Our changes can be cumulatively dramatic; some prove to be minor blips. Prioritizing the changes we take on; letting the little ones go by; keeping our life structures flexible and adaptable; remembering that all life is fleeting. These are tools that help us steady the boat as we navigate the windstorms of our life Changes. This fundamental movement of Change is simply the inherent way of things. So at any given moment, towards what will we choose to redirect our life?

©   2019   Randy Bell             https://OurSpiritualWay.blogspot.com


Saturday, June 29, 2019

Of Toothbrushes And Toothpaste


The news from America’s southern border continues to go from bad to worse. After all the efforts yielding minimal results over the past two years, now it is the children – infants through grade schoolers – living in 3rd-world squalor without basic sanitary provisions, sleeping on concrete floors. Many hundreds of kids locked up in cages, sequestered in an out-of-the-way facility designed for a fraction of that number, its contents kept secret.

I fully accept that rational rules and processes should be in place to regulate admission into this country. I also believe that our obligation is to use those rules and processes to facilitate how many immigrants we are able to bring in, not use them as a barrier to keeping people out. This posture is in the spirit of the ancestors of each of us who immigrated into this country from across the world, seeking the better life and opportunities that America has always stood for – albeit an ideal not always practiced in fact. Though I continue to have hope that long in the future our aspirations for a world free of fear and filled with compassion for one another may be fulfilled, I also accept that, in today’s world, adult human beings are still capable of inflicting the most monstrous injustices and pain among one another.

But infant and growing children have no inherent predisposition towards inflicting injustice and pain. Yet they are all too often on the receiving end of such. Regardless of the decisions their parents may have made; regardless of whether we agree or disagree with such things as a “family separation policy”; these children have become the innocent pawns in an unconscionable adult immorality play. If this kind of childhood suffering was the result of some weather disaster or other emergency, FEMA, the Red Cross, religious organizations, charity groups, and other “ad hoc do-gooders” would be all over these victims, calling attention to their plight while bringing aid, comfort and needed supplies. Instead, these groups are nowhere to be seen. Our government claims “there is no money to cover these needs.” Yet boxes of donated goods sit unopened at border gates, while government attorneys awkwardly try to convince a skeptical panel of federal judges that toothbrushes and toothpaste, soap and a bath, and clean clothing are not really required for children.

This situation is beyond malicious. It is cruel and inhumane treatment towards a group of human beings unable to speak for, or defend, themselves. We can let the adults continue to act out their political stagecraft and carry on their interminable intellectual debates and speak their untruths. But let every American parent take responsibility for the care of the children that have been entrusted to our care – regardless of how they got here.

This is not an argument about immigration. These actions are a moral argument, a challenge to the truth (or not) of our professed national character and our personal religious values that admonish us to “care for the children and the orphans.” Whatever our political fights, taking it out on the babies is indefensible. For those who say they are committed to the right of each child to be born, Part 2 of that commitment is ensuring that each child is then protected, nourished, and developed regardless of his/her circumstances or nationality.

Yesterday I mailed an envelope with a copy of this essay, along with a small toothbrush and tube of toothpaste, to the President of the United States. That envelope and its contents will not solve this travesty. But if that envelope should make it through the mail check process (questionable), maybe someone will notice and care. Maybe some White House aide will send it along to some scared, lonely, bewildered kid who needs it. Because we are better than this. Better than the decisions we are making. The collective heart of the American people is, and has always been, far better than this.

©   2019   Randy Bell               https://OurSpiritualWay.blogspot.com


Thursday, May 23, 2019

What Are We Afraid Of?


Fear. It is the dominant emotion of our life. It is the primary driver for our decision-making, the basis for our reactive actions in response to life’s circumstances. While love is our aspiration and can serve as our defense against our fears, fear and love exist in a synchronized dance with each other, rising and falling like playmates on a playground see-saw. One is in ascendance while the other is in decendance, reversing from moment to moment, event to event.

We fear tangible things we can see: a wild animal, a gun in the hand of a stranger, a venomous insect. We fear intangible phobias to which we give pseudo-substance: fear of germs, of heights, of confined spaces. We fear mental constructs that upset our sense of being: the loss of a job, being socially unaccepted, our lack of status. Fear of inflicted physical pain – indeed loss of life itself – creates mental pain; mental pain can create physical pain. Mind and body each feeds on one another.

Our laundry list of fears – unique to each of us – continues to grow unendingly. Some of these have been with us for so long, we are barely cognizant of them, perhaps do not even see them as “fears.” They have become part of our life, a structural component of our lifestyle, rituals we perform daily. But are we truly a melting pot of many fears that permeate our life? Or are these familiar acquaintances simply the emotional children of a few overriding fears, emerging from an original well that is our more fundamental source?

Ever since human beings emerged on this planet, we have all begun our lives in the same manner. From our earliest cell form growing into a fully developed infant, we exist physically connected to an enclosed, protective environment totally constructed to meet our needs. We are nourished on demand with no conscious effort on our part. Then, abruptly, we are delivered into a wholly different environment, the one in which we will spend the rest of our human life. A life no longer physically attached to its protective habitat, where little of our needs are met and come to us automatically.

In that one instant of change, our life is turned upside down and redefined. In that moment, our three fundamental fears are also birthed: 1) we are alone, no longer interconnected to our world, a tiny speck in a Universe vast beyond our comprehension; 2) we are powerless to defend, much less nourish, ourselves; 3) by accepting the opportunity of life, we concurrently accept the reality of our death at some unknown moment. At birth, we are now dependent on the willingness of others for our survival, our cries for attention the only tool in our arsenal. The scope of our absolute aloneness, our helplessness, our littleness, our temporariness overwhelms us. The shock of that recognition is more than we can absorb as an infant. So these fundamental fears give rise to the litany of simpler, more identifiable fears that grow out of the seedbed of our subsequent individual life experiences. Fear begets fears which intensifies fear.

And so we hold strangers at bay until they prove themselves worthy of our trust. We band together, with people similar to ourselves, in groups – social clubs, neighborhoods, tribes, cities, nations – believing that there is “safety in numbers.” We fight with our society in various forms of competition or control, believing “a good offense is the best defense” to keep our fears at bay. Or conversely, we build fortresses of conventional lifestyles within which we hope to go unnoticed and unthreatened. We erect monuments to our Truths, and marble statues to our Self, intending that “this is who I am” will be our armor against opposing assaults.

In the end, none of these fear-based strategies truly work for us. The more we rely on them, the more they wear us down (mentally and physically), increase our isolation, and reduce our sense of self-sustainability. That is when we are called to make the real choice – whether our life will be lived in fear, or whether it will be lived in love. Love that accepts that which is different; has confidence in providing for ourselves; and recognizes that the list of genuine fears is indeed quite small. “Common sense” decisions about reasonable risk replace the paralyzing power of fear.

It is in recognizing from where our daily fears come that the opportunity arises to defuse them. In that moment, we are no longer alone, we are no longer powerless, our death is yet one more of our many transitions. In that moment, our freedom of thought and action arises within. In that moment, we begin to truly live.

©   2019   Randy Bell             https://www.OurSpiritualWay.blogspot.com


Monday, April 15, 2019

The Self-Made Myth


“I’ve been on food stamps and welfare. Did anybody help me out? No, No.” Craig T. Nelson, actor

Americans love their Horatio Alger stories. Written in the late 19th century, these are the stories of the singular individual overcoming obstacles, surmounting disadvantages, often from lowly beginnings, toiling out of view, yet rising to personal accomplishments and success. These multiple stories came to serve as inspirational motivators and icons embedded in our shared cultural framework. The lonely western cowboy standing watch over his herd; the Mercury astronaut circling the globe; the tinkerer crafting revolutionary inventions in his/her garage; the unseen student studying in the library to earn that elusive scholarship. “Pulling one up by their bootstraps” is the opportunity that still lives proudly in America.

Persons who succeed beyond their starting point, who contribute significantly to the betterment of their community, that advance through hard work performed within an ethical focus, are certainly worthy of admiration. But to say that that person is “self-made,” that s/he did it “all on my own,” is not only false in every case, but is also dangerous. Dangerous to the individual; dangerous to the community in which s/he lives.

It may sometimes seem that some of our good fortune is simply an “accident” of time, place and circumstances (although spiritually we might question how much the Universe may have had a hand in our outcomes). In these instances, the accomplishment appears to be an in-the-moment event to which it was necessary for one to be responsive.

Yet in most circumstances, our seemingly singular accomplishments are the direct outcome of the relationships and interactions that others have had with us over the course of our lifetime. When we stop and examine the people and events of our life that brought us to this place we now occupy (mentally and physically), we no longer see it as a series of isolated events. Events that are unconnected to each other, distracting us into unexpected and/or undesirable side ventures. Rather, these events and people – of a forgettable instant or a lifetime memory – all served to put us on that path, to open the doors that showed the way. Charles Lindberg flying solo across the Atlantic in his small, single-prop plane “The Spirit Of St. Louis”; John Glen circling the globe alone in his space capsule; Thomas Edison toiling solitarily in his lab trying over and over again to find just the right element to realize his idea of an “electric light” – each had legions of people that brought them to that moment or stood in support of their unique endeavor.

One of the early lessons in our career life is the discovery that almost no one “gets ahead” on his/her own. Simply being “head down” in the workplace, producing good quality work, rarely by itself moves one to that next step of opportunity. It is from being noticed for that work that doors begin to open, opened by someone who decided to take interest in our skills, our situation, our as-yet unfilled promise. Someone who possibly saw more in us than we saw in ourselves.

Perhaps that someone gave us part of our education. Or financing to start our new venture. Or promoted us into a position of greater responsibility and visibility. We may aspire to be a CEO of a major business. Yet in truth that CEO sitting in a corner office on the top floor is charged only with a) making certain strategic decisions, and b) hiring the “right people” to carry out those decisions. It is the person at the cash register in the local store, the receptionist answering the phone, the salesperson who knocks on a buyer’s door, the shop floor worker who assembles the product, the truck driver who delivers the product, and the construction worker who built the roads those trucks drive over – these are the people who determine whether the CEO’s decisions are successful or not.

We are certainly entitled to pat ourselves on the back for any hard work, dedication, and creativity we have contributed to “our” accomplishment. To have been one of those who sought to lead our life rather than react passively to it. But our contribution is given alongside all the other contributors that ultimately dictate our life’s outcome. In humility, we remember that our self-made life is, in fact, created through the supportive efforts of many sharing, collective selves. Including those people unseen and unknown to us that were willing to provide us with food stamps and welfare checks when we may have needed them.

“When you drink the water, remember who dug the well.”  Zen saying

©  2019   Randy Bell                https://www.OurSpiritualWay.blogspot.com