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Why We Must Pray For The Missing Malaysian Plane And Their Families

As the search for the missing Malaysian plane enters into its third week, one must wonder how the thought of not knowing what happened to the passengers  must feel for the families and friends.
It must be excruciating. Yet, in this time of need, we must, as fellow humans pray for the passengers, pray for the families. For surely when millions of people pray at the same time, we must hope that our good thoughts and our urgent entreaties will reach the Almighty God who will surely hear our desire to find the passengers.
We need an answer so that we can help the family members get resolution.
We also need to find the plane so that we can make flying safer for everybody. If in fact it was a mechanical error, then engineers need to know. If there was pilot error, the same thing needs to be said.
And yet as days go by, the search for the missing plane is still very much a search.
Leads are followed, only to go nowhere.
Yet, there is a way for this waiting to end. We must, as a collective group, start to pray and help the families have healing. Distant praying does work. And tons of books have been written in this area.
The lady weeping on television could be your aunt, your sister, your cousin.
Standing by watching the families suffer is difficult so I believe it is in everyone's power to pray and help the families.
There are angels who can help. In fact, I am told that we can also pray to Saint Anthony, the Catholic patron saint of lost items. The angels who specialize in lost items include Archangel Chamuel and Zerachiel.
We don't have to stand by watching the anguish happen in front of our eyes. All it takes is a prayer.
After all, we are one in the eyes of the Lord.

Jools Holland And My Mother

One of the best shows on television lately in my opinion is Jools Holland. He’s the British chap who hosts a weekly show  featuring a list of stellar musicians from the past and the present. This wonderful host has been doing it for the past 20 years and he could be considered the current Ed Sullivan, the TV legend who showcased the likes of Elvis and The Beatles.

Watching the show makes me feel like I am at a music festival --there is such a wide variety of musicians, from African drummers, hip hop, souls and blues, to more mainstream musicians like Elton John, Paul McCartney and Elvis Costello.

When Jools introduces the acts, he is usually smiling, quite charming, and cheerful. It often seems like he is talking to the viewer directly.

My mom likes Jools and when he turns on the charm, she smiles back and says “Hello, “ too. She claps for the musicians, too, and for Tony Bennett when he sang one evening. But mostly, she likes Jools.

She tells me that if I had any sense and acted nice, Jools, too, could be smiling at me, too.

My Mom has memory problems --the doctors think it is dementia, but I don’t like to uses these words. I want to think of my mom with issues that can be fixed.

It wasn’t too long ago when my Mom would lay in bed for hours and be grumpy and quite irritable. After doing some research, our family put her on coconut oil and have lately been giving her lots of vitamins and other supplements, like fish oil, which has made  my mom  more sociable.

TV does not interest her much. She walks away when there is news and lot of movies don’t have enough interest for her. Modern movies have too much violence, she says. And she didn’t quite understand the movie about a man in love with his computer’s operating system.

But she seems to perk up when Jools comes on. He smiles and talks in his affable, British accent which keeps my mom riveted in her chair. The musicians come on and sing and play various instruments.

Jools seems to look in my Mom’s direction and it does look to me like he is talking and smiling to her.

I like to think that Jools is a secret weapon for people living with  dementia. Music, but more importantly, smiles and kindness go a long, long way.

Walking Down The Aisle in Viva Las Vegas

If you are a couple and don't have rich parents to help fund your Wedding day, Vegas just may be the answer for you.

We recently took the plunge in the gaudy, busy, chaotic and wonderful world of Vegas and found out that this place is great for cheapskates or couples on a budget. Yes, it's wonderful to have a big wedding for your large family and friends, but think about it: the cost factor. It can cost thousands of dollars and countless hours of planning, stress, reservations and tons of energy to fund your fabulous one-day event. But our Vegas nuptials took a few bus rides and a few hundred dollars. Ok, there was the cost of the airfare and the hotel but in the final analysis, the photos cost more then the entire event.

This all started after doing some research on the Internet for events of this nature. I found all sorts of places offering to hold the special day with an Elvis minister in attendance, or the event can be held at the very hotel that you are staying at. With too many offers and not enough time to call up all the businesses, we decided to explore the options after arriving in Vegas.

Since we were only there for the weekend, time was the essence and after arriving Friday in Vegas, we took in a buffet and decided to make a late-night trek to the marriage bureau, which we heard, opened til midnight. Perfect. Yes, we could have got to the bureau by cab, but since we opted to use a map and the bus, we decided to take this longer but more scenic route.

The monorail which was conveniently located near our hotel made a perfect way to escape from the drab, pouring rain, which greeted us on way to the marriage bureau. Once we arrived at the last stop, it seemed rather strange the the down escalator was moving strangely too fast for me to step on it. I decided to take the stairs.

It didn't take long for the bus to arrive and once on board,  we made our way to find a seat in the lightly packed bus. It didn't take long to realize the the bus driver wasn't going to be a good guide. He seemed ignorant of the location of the marriage bureau, which on the map, appeared to be a few blocks down the road. In fact, he gave no help at all, much to our surprise. I wondered silently how Vegas could be considered the Wedding capital of the world if the bus driver didn't even know where the marriage bureau was. Thankfully, a passenger on the bus, who happened to be a taxi-driver who just finished his shift, took the time to point out the way where we could register our marriage. What was eating at the bus driver was anyone's guess.

We took a few steps to the marriage bureau and looked around to see if there was a line up of couples. None. Inside, a security guard sat in a chair looking bored. A few couples were at a table filling out a form in pencil. Yes, I saw a few embarrassed couples giggling at the wicket. When it was my turn, the clerk asked a few questions and after looking at the pencil-filled application, she entered it in the computer and in a few moments, I received a certificate that would entitle us to get married at a Las Vegas chapel.

Across the street, we checked out a walk-in chapel that happened to be open. A smiling woman gave out some incredibly cheap prices for the ceremony. As we were only inquiring, we didn't take part in the ceremony that evening.

The next day, we decided to go back to the same walk-in chapel, since it was conveniently located and we didn't have time to check out other places. Yes, an Elvis Wedding seemed nice, but also a bit expensive.

This time, the same woman we met last night seemed a bit strange, and didn't seem as pleasant as she was the last night. Perhaps, she felt bad when I had asked her if she was married. She said she and her partner chose not to get married. It seemed strange that a woman would promote a Wedding ceremony to other couples and chose herself not to get married. In any case, she tried to stir up problems by implying that I was the one that was going to make decisions in the household. I kept telling her that it was going to be 50-50 and she replied that in her household, her man pulled the strings. I held my real emotions in check since I didn't want to ruin the moment and the thirty-something woman was showing her jealousy.

In a few moments we were ushered in another room and given a handful of fake flowers.  The minister spoke a few words and declared us legal together in the eyes of the Lord, etc. The photographer took photos and captured the moment in video. It was amazing that this momentous occasion was all completed in one afternoon, and we didn't have to face the countless hours of planning and organizing a reception.

But strangely that's all people wanted when we got home from Vegas.
People asked us, "When's the reception?"


Photo of the Chapel of the Flowers --one of many chapels in Vegas that offered quick Wedding services. We didn't go there but went to another one, near the marriage bureau.

There Is Hope for People With Family Members Suffering From Dementia

I took a family member to the doctor that other day. Sitting in the doctor's office is no fun matter. There is always the waiting game and the long drive to the office. No one likes to go to the doctors. Only sick people go.
When I went, it was to get a check up for my family member who has been diagnosed with dementia. Over a year ago back in 2011, this person was having a hard time and it was troubling to everyone. She  couldn't talk sensibly or seemed to have trouble recognizing people and places.
The doctors gave little hope and one specialist at the hospital looked at me and advised me that since there was no cure for Alzheimers, we should  start planning for the worst and look for a rest home.
Being a person who loves research and finding that living a life without hope is no life at all, I began to conduct an intensive research to see if there were any cures for this dreadful disease.
One website pointed to a woman who treated her husband with coconut oil. She received some remarkable results with this very inexpensive food item.
I quickly sent news articles to all my family members with the news that giving coconut oil may help my relative suffering from dementia.
Now after over a year on coconut oil, along with a variety of other over-the-counter pills including gingko bilova, and vitamins, my relative has made an amazing recovery.
She is able to communicate more, laugh, help fold the laundry, watch movies and more.
To be honest, she is not 100 percent what she was before, but she is a whole lot better after taking coconut oil and a few other vitamins.
So when this doctor told me that my mom seemed to be improved from her last visit, I started clapping in the office.
Yet, since I am not a scientist, I did not conduct a proper test to see if in fact, coconut oil was the main ingredient that helped make my relative improve mentally. Other pills were used, including gingko bilova. I've read that there are now studies being conducted to test the effectiveness of virgin coconut oil on improving people with dementia. Let's hope that they are able to finalize the studies soon. So many people need this information.
The lesson in all this is to never lose hope for yourself or anyone else. Hope, faith, love and the Internet can be used to help solve almost any problem that you have.

The Quest for Perfection is an Imperfect Goal

I think we live in a world that is always seeking perfection, whether it is perfect workers, a perfect vacation, even a perfect mate. I am constantly assaulted by pressures everywhere, in my workplace and else where, to do perfect deeds.

Although I try ultimately to try to make as few mistakes as possible, and seek to overcome my imperfections, always there is a problem, a misstep, an aberration from perfection.

I constantly remind myself that we are not robots, and cannot work like a computer tirelessly and without complaint. Yet, so many companies expect workers to be this way --accept work without complaint, try not to take too many breaks, etc.

The quest for perfection puts an incredible amount of stress on ourselves --our bodies and our minds. We are often too hard on ourselves as we strive towards perfection. The crazy world of advertising would want us to have buff and leaner bodies, attractive faces and great minds. There is too, the quest to have it all --a beautiful home, mate and children. Vacations are also supposed to be perfect. There is no such thing as tropical storms, only azul waters, sumptuous food, and a spacious and smooth flight. We are not supposed to have a vacation that has a cramped room with no view, bland food, and a long walk to the buffet restaurant. If it doesn't look like the pages from some high-class ad, this is not a good vacation, some people believe.

I met a local lady recently who professed a distain for her hotel room. She hated her room so much that she cried, both literally and figuratively. Her complaints went to the ears of a vacation company representative who booked her vacation and she was promptly upgraded, at an extra rate, to another hotel.

I've stayed in rooms that were too small to sleep in comfortably (Paris, France) and dealt with air turbulence. It was not always a pleasant time but vacations are sometimes an area where you are supposed to experience some discomfort.

Life is not always going to be a pleasant journey. If we strive too hard for perfection, we can almost always be disappointed. We should accept life the way it is. Those things that cannot be changed, especially. Like how we talk, look and feel. God made us this way. If we strive to look like a super model, or try to be like someone else, we can only bring stress upon ourselves. 

Life is beautiful --just the way we are.

What Kind of World We Live in If a Movie House Cannot be a Movie House

I love movies and looked forward to the new Batman movie, The Dark Knight Rises,  with anticipation. Knowing that one of my favorite actors would be in it was appealing too. So it was to my horror and disappointment that I read of a terrible tragedy that took place in Colorado. A crazed gunman had opened fire on innocent people in the first part of the new Batman movie. At least 12 people had died and 58 were injured, and all they wanted to do was to watch a movie.
Movies are places to fantasize about a life that we aspire to. We can pretend to be a glamorous person living a glamorous lifestyle. We can pretend to be with Batman as he fights his latest foe.
Yet on that horrible midnight hour, someone had decided to play the heavy --shooting people at random with little regard to their hopes and dreams.
What kind of world do we live in? It is a crazy world, at times, one where we often read about evil face to face. Just knowing that someone so normal looking could lose it --and kill people is horrifying and terrifying at the same time.
The question however arises whether we should live in fear and stay hidden away at home, so as to be safe from the enemy.
If doing so is safer, then it may be best not to do anything. Like drive a car, eat in a restaurant, or go to the bank.
Yet, living in fear is like being in a kind of mental prison. I felt so fearful that night as I sat in the movie house watching the new Batman movie. I looked at other people suspiciously, wondering if someone would pull a copycat act and start shooting innocent people. That same night, I also noticed other spectators openly looking at other movie patrons with suspicion.
A scruffy-looking man with the smell of alcohol chose a seat nearby us. He left briefly to get something. I glanced to see if he had a backpack. None. I remembered a security guard downstairs watching theatre-goers but I silently wondered why there was no ban on backpacks.
As I sat in the dark in the packed movie house, I relaxed a little as we neared the end of the movie. When the movie finally ended after more than two hours, I finally could relax, knowing that everyone there was present to watch a movie. That's what going to a movie should be all about.
When the show ended, it should be noted that some people applauded and liked the "Happy Ever After" conclusion. But the greater applause should be with the audience, who decided to live with courage and not hide away in their homes because of one monster bent on inflicting evil.
It is the ordinary people who live each day not in fear but with hope for the future that makes living in a city what it is supposed to be like. At the same time, we should never forget what happened in Colorado not too long ago.
God bless the victims and their families in the Colorado shooting. And may we never have to have this happen again.

Rocket Man is Ok -But Candy is Better

When the world was younger and I was much younger now, eyes all over the world was enthralled by Man going to the moon in 1969. It was a big thing then. A new concept and a monumental moment in history.
Where we lived and worked, my family sat around a small black and white television set glued to the screen. I recall a man in a grey bulging suit walking around somewhat carefully. Neil Armstrong may have been on the moon, but to my childish mind, it was not that much fun.
I just needed that candy. Despite the fact that we lived in a grocery story that was filled with sweets of all kinds, nothing was that interesting. I must have tried them all and wanted a change.
I looked at the TV set and drew a blank. I asked my parents if I could go to Wong's store, just half a block from our store. Despite the fact that they were our mortal enemy and competition, I didn't much care. Even despite the fact that a little Chinese girl in my life despised me and never said one word to me, starting from Grade one on, didn't deter me one bit. I had to get to Wong's.
It was hot that day and I walked to the store by myself with no coat. In a little while, I entered the little shop and admired its many prizes. We didn't have all these small, cute looking candies in a plastic counter, or even the sweet powdery sugar substance that could be sucked lovingly from a straw. It was incredible and I armed myself with some goodies to take home.
When I came back, Walter Cronkite, a news commentator, gave a play-by-play of the Man on the Moon news story, and my family took it all in.
Except me. I was vaguely aware of its significance. But mostly on the mind was the troubling question of why we never had the same kinds of candies that Wong's carried.
It also occurred to me that the little girl Katie who had an ongoing hatred for us Chan's, may have thought me to be a spy. Katie and I were both the same age in the same school and in my class. But for some odd reason, we never got it on.
It may have started in Grade 1 when Katie and her friend, Parminder looked at me with distaste, Parminder looked at my shiny shoes and proceeded to step on them. As we moved through the grades, my sisters and I never spoke to the Wong children, nor did I take to talking to Parminder who was the lone East Indian girl in the school it seems. She wore her hair long and shiny and as she passed, her hair smelled of some kind of cosmetic ethnic ingredient.
When I went to Wong's that day in 1969, I knew that Katie lived upstairs in the shop, too. But I never asked to talk to her. Her mother took my money and I guess Katie was upstairs watching the story about the Man on the Moon, too.

Letter to Mr. Slim : Good Riddance to You and All Your Lessons

I never was much of a student in High School. Prone to day dreaming of my future as a writer, I suppose, I couldn't stand my History class, especially when it was taught by Mr. Slim.
Back when I went to school in the seventies, teachers followed a curriculum designed to boor students to tears, and make history confined to the corridors of dates, names and incidences. Mr Slim was no exception, and he conducted his class like a robot, and carefully pulled out a pile of notes from his briefcase and started to recite.
He pulled out dates and World War II incidences as though it happened centuries ago, rather than mere decades ago and I could care less whether some leader of the Allies forced his way through the German barriers, or even what was the significance of Vimy Ridge. There was no History Channel back then, and it must have been too novel at the time to bring retired members of the Canadian Army to class to conduct lectures outlining the realities of war.
Nothing stuck on me and it showed, especially in the results of my exam where my marks failed to both excite me and my History teacher. Nor did Mr. Slim appear that he cared.
He came to class each day, well dressed, and carefully opened his well cared for notes, which he proceed to recite from as though it was as significant as Mozart's music. Of course, now I realize the price that men and women paid for in the great Wars, and take away so much information from shows such as the History Channel, etc on television.
Although I must have been close to seventeen, and still undecided about my job ambitions, at one point, I did ponder to be a teacher. But after observing Mr. Slim, who must have been in his late fifties conduct his lectures in such a boring, distant manner, I clearly decided in my mind's eye not to be a teacher. He clearly seemed to be doing his job for the money, than for the real pleasure of encouraging young minds.
I like movies and whenever an opportunity came to see one, especially in school, my eyes immediately perked up. On this one afternoon, Mr. Slim put on a World War II film that showed a celebration of soldiers and women. It may have been a victory moment, and as the film neared its end, the black and white reel displaced young and happy men frolicking with young and willing women, who were of Japanese descent.
Mr. Slim suddenly interjected a remark to the effect that this display of white men and yellow women frolicking together was deemed to be disgusting, forbidden and downright madness. He spoke his mind that white men and yellow women should never get together for romantic reasons and each ethnic group deserves to socialize romantically among themselves. Although the exact wording of Mr. Slim may be off somewhat due to time, the general gist of what he had to say is exact.
It was then that I realized who he really was. Mr Slim: a racist.
At that time, this obedient, poor student wanted to walk out when my teacher waxed into his ugly discourse, but I said nothing. I remarked about Mr. Slim's outburst to my siblings, who also agreed that he was a racist, but nothing came of it. Until now.
So Mr. Slim, after all these years, you are finally outed.
And yes, Mr. Slim, you should have been replaced years ago by someone like Mr. Sidney Poitier.
It's too bad that for too long, years of young minds have been twisted by Mr. Slim's racist ideas.
And when I stepped out into the sunshine of the streets after finishing his class, it was no surprise that I encountered name-calling from young groups of racists, who probably had Mr. Slim as a History teacher.

When Clint Eastwood was King and Punks were Just Punks

My mother took us to movies whenever she had a chance. While my Dad tended the customers for a few hours, we caught a movie in downtown New Westminster, which in the seventies, featured a few theatres showing the latest movies. Nearby, we ate at Woolworths, a now defunct store, which featured a variety of discount items as well as a counter restaurant which offered light meals.
Clint Eastwood, then, was featured in a new movie called Magnum Force and despite the violence, we enjoyed Eastwood's charisma, and especially how he dealt with criminals, occasionally calling them "punk."
Clint was "The Man" back then, and often we would laugh at his witty dealings with the bad guys, squinting at them and joking about whether they just got out of San Quentin prison.
As I was young then, perhaps, ten or twelve, me and my other sister were accompanied by my mother who often used her hands to shield us from a naked scene or some violent moment.
Although I enjoyed the latest Disney movies, somehow watching an Eastwood movie was both exhilarating and fun at the same time. It was a few hours where we could escape from a world that was not always so nice.
My mother recalls that she was just gassing up her car with my sister when some lone male yelled out a racial slur. She proceeded to berate the man, occasionally using "punk" and asking to his bewilderment, what he has done for his country. "Has he ever fought in the war? There are so many young men who have died, and you're standing there being an ignorant bum." Of course, her words were much more liberal and colorful than mine, but due to brevity, I can only write down the general gist of her diatribes.
There were dozens of incidents like that during the space of my years growing up, from the late sixties to seventies where I recall my Mom telling off the "punks" with all her vocal might.
Still, despite her efforts and mine, too, me and my sisters encountered our share of young people hurling out racial names as though it was something that was part of their extracurricular activity.
We did our best to stake our case, sometimes throwing out a bit of their own medicine, using "honky" and some other negative name that befit their Caucasian background.
I never used the word "punk" myself to defend myself, but looking back, it seems being hurled the word "punk" hit its mark: like throwing a rotten egg on their window.
Clearly, my Mom acted like the female equivalent of Clint Eastwood. Although she carried no magnum gun in her purse, her words shook the air and thundered, and punks froze in their shoes, never expecting that that this slight woman, wearing a conservative mid-length skirt could rise up like a phoenix and bite back with such force.
My mother also said to hit it in the bud, meaning that punks deserved to be treated with their own medicine now, rather than the next life.

On Being a Chinese Grocer

Back when I was a child, all of my family worked. We all lived and worked in the same building since my Mom and Dad owned a grocery store. Week days were spend holed up in the public school system during the day time, and afternoons, me and my sisters trudged home-ward bound to relieve my parents, especially when we got older.
When I was young, I handled the cash and tried to help bag groceries, even though I could not reach the counter top. I loved helping out, even though in one case I was barely was able to lift the bag from the ground, spilling all its contents. Every day, our parents worked, never skipping a Sunday, and our store got its share of memorable customers.
Sometimes a young man brought his monkey to the store, bringing about lots of good conversation and curiosity. During Halloween, young men came in the store to buy food coloring for their hair due to fact that Halloween costumes were home-made rather than manufactured. The bulk of our customers were primariy white and all was not always well.
In the late sixties, my mom and I drove around in a chevy and sometimes encountered a racial slur from a young white male. It didn't matter that I was a young child or that I was with my mother, racism raised its ugly head. My mother also shot back a response, not matter who it was. "Shut up, you igorant bum," she should sneer.
Kids too would yell at us, "Go back home, Chinamen," they would yell.
My sister thought she was smart and shouted, "Shut up, you war,!" Actually, she meant, "whore." but who knew the word.
Myself, I was more shy, and listened to my siblings and mother tell off the racists. Sometimes, I would yell out and sometimes, on a bad day, I wished I was white.
I didn't know about the civil rights movement too much or about Dr. Martin Luther King. In high school, we learned about ABC's and never about learning to live together.
As a young girl, I played with dolls that were Caucasion and watched TV in black and white.
Things really were black and white back then.
With the arrival of color TV, I started to notice a more, relaxed mood. Then Bruce Lee came to the big screen around the seventies, and I started to appreciate my skin color.
Even though I experienced the occasional racial incident, inside and outside the store, I raised my head a little higher each day, knowing that no matter what some people said, they couldn't take the fight out of us.
And besides, since most of the stores were closed on Sundays, (Back then, the majority of stores were closed on Sundays), ours was a business that accepted all customers, regardless of their ignorance.

How to Deal with Bullies in the Workforce -Part 2

For the most part, my way of dealing with workplace bullies was to do basically nothing. Silence, indeed, was my most worst enemy but I was not exactly sleeping, too. Secretly, I was writing down things on small pieces of paper, things that my then supervisor and manager was doing to make my life miserable.
For the most part, these damaging things were observable: other employees were getting better desks and treatment and my requests to deal with workplace issues were laughed at and ignored.
My dog days took the form of going to work with a huge cloud over my shoulder. Even despite clearly unprofessional treatment at the hands of Hitler's relatives (I imagined), I took it all in, never wanted to throw in the towel over what I deemed were a normal part of one's working world.
In fact, for years I went through one bad boss after another, mostly women managers who saw fit to treat my life as though I were a paid slave, only there to make their lives better. All these wierd, unstable bosses were, for the most part, large, younger and clearly competent employees. But even if there were more unattractive than I was, why did they seem to take it out on myself, I wondered? Why did they continue to ask me my age during social occasions, when it didn't really matter, dither, if I was more older, more attractive than she?
All these age-related questions are, in fact, a form of abuse that younger women often use to make themselves feel better than others. Who really cares if they are just celebrating their 21th birthday in Las Vegas? Are they going to be twenty-one for the rest of their lives?
Interestingly enough, I recall that my days of workplace abuse was mostly spent in underpaid, high stressful jobs dominated by young, immature, barely educated young women. Add that, nonunion jobs.
When that day came when the abuser decided to fire me, it came as somewhat of a surprise. Other fired employees walked out silently, but this I could take no more. I howled out at my abusers, cursed them with the word, "lawsuit," and slammed the door quite loudly as I exited the cold and sterile-looking call-centre floor.
A few months later, I did just that. I retained a pro-bono lawyer and settled with myself receiving both extra money and a reference letter. I was saved by the law.

When Witches Invade the Work Place

Being in the world of work is tough. If you think about it, it is often like being in a school yard where employees and employers are either your friend, a bully or just a pain in the butt.
I've worked among some of the worst bully employers ever. One rather large woman had the audacity to scream at me at one point in one of my bad job years. When this happened, I took to walking out rather abruptly and explaining my behaviour to the bosses the next day. In that same, mundane job, a younger woman with eyes that were both hawkish and full of stress, proceeded to harass me over one thing or another. I rolled my eyes during one of her tirades and tried to block her out.
In these years of low esteem which hovered over me like a bad movie, I listened to their constant harping, while silently hoping for some thing to happen that would take these women witches to justice.
Thankfully, the job which involved tracking packages, gave me an opportunity to meet some truly wonderful people in the United States. I would deal with my American coworkers on a business and personal way and in some cases did end up meeting some of them in person. It was the best and worst of times, in the words of Dickens.
But at the same time, the workplace was becoming intolerable. I've seem other women also getting the bad treatment. Yes, they were being bullied, too. I tried to band together with another bullied woman but that only made me feel more and more alone. It was just a case of us against them. But despite all the psychological shoving, I took it in stoically, silently thinking to myself that the witches -the women who made my life horrible -may be powerful, but they were ugly both physically and morally. True, I seemed to have more friends of either gender, but that didn't make my life any easier.
One day to my pleasant surprise, the bullied woman who was in her forties, just lost it. She slammed the door on the big, ugly woman-boss and stormed out of the office, officially quitting.
Wow! I took the abuse for a few more months before I decided to quit one day in style by sending them a fax expressing my official intention to leave.
The big great news came to me one day when I heard that the woman who was both the boss and an unofficial Witch of the West was ousted from the job herself -suspected of being a fraudster.
Ah! I love karma.

Why Being a Good Citizen Makes all the Difference in the World

Sometimes the news is so awful that one needs only to shut off the television to turn off the problems of the world.
I often wonder how kids can do things to each other -cause bullying, fighting and just being mean towards each other. It also turns worst when the kids grow up. Some turn to drugs, crime and all kinds of other things which make headline news every day.
And yet, I believe that a lot of crime can be prevented with early life upbringing. Had parents instilled in them some kind of pride, of right and wrong, of following nobler paths, it is quite probable that some of the problem kids could be model citizens.
And yet, strangely enough, a lot of parents leave education up to the school system or even up to thin air. Kids definitely need role models and a firm background where they are encouraged to be model citizens.
True, a lot of kids are fine and don't end of getting in trouble. But it is the few kids that bully and grown up to be killers, animal abusers and drug addicts who need to be held up to further scrutiny.
Indeed, if we could find a way to prevent such problem people, our society would be so much more safer, kinder and nobler.
I remember in university being lectured on the good life by my wonderful Philosophy professor. My mind soared to a wonderful space when I heard of such a better world spoken of by Greek philosophers such as Aristotle, Plato and Socrates. Ideas of citizenship involved people being politically active, as well specifically involved in the well-being of the state.
How often we take citizenship for granted. By virtue of birth, we are granted automatic citizenship. But citizenship should involve something more: being kind, being good to each other is worth more than all the money in the World Bank.
The sad reality is that a lot of places in the world, such as Syria's top leadership, is virtually morally illiterate. Thousands of people demanding a better way of life are being killed by the government's troops and all they really wanted was a better life.
Our world needs more philosophers, better citizens and more nobler leaders.

Curing Dementia -A Personal Journey

I'm glad 2011 is over. It's been a rough year. Especially on a personal level. A close friend's father passed away. Then another friend's mother was called to heaven. For myself, dealing with dementia is an uphill battle. A close person of mine has been identified as being afflicted with signs of dementia.
The tough part is seeing the damage --especially how someone who was so wonderful with the writing of kind words and thoughts on a card --could now sometimes grasp for words and is unable to identify common things like yogurt, or bananas.
At first, the family was not that concerned, and tried to bury the problem by not owning up to it. Later, when clearly this person with dementia, --I'll call her "W" --could not always recall a lot of recent events and appeared sometimes confused, it was time to take action.
The doctor was involved, yet to my surprise, could offer nothing and suggested a referral to a specialist. I got involved and booked such a specialist and a few months later, I am still waiting.
Battling this illness or any other illness can be personally trying, but with resolve and hope, a miracle could be just around the corner.
To this end, I have read books on this subject, and countless articles. All point to certain key vitamins as a possible solution to this terrible disease. And so with hope and my wallet open, "W" is being given a lot of vitamins and support.
I urge anyone who knows someone with dementia to do the same --take ownership of the situation and do research on the subject in order to look for a cure.
Life can sometimes hold a card that is not always candies and ice cream. The key thing is to always remain hopeful, positive and take personal action. A miracle vitamin is the best thing we can do to help save millions of people who suffer from dementia world-wide.

Never Give Up --The Power of Prayer

Life is hard sometimes. But when problems hit close to home, it's even harder. When a close friend's relative lay in the hospital, close to dying, it was hard to accept. The doctor gave the grim news that the end was near, and all the signs were there. He was weak and barely able to speak. The priest was called to give the last rites.
Instead of accepting the inevitable, everyone close to the sick man, looked up and started to pray. I also sent healing prayers. Three days passed, a week passed and now it is almost a month, and the person whom the doctor said should be dead by now, is now sitting in a chair and eating.
It's a great thing knowing that a higher power has the power to heal. The Bible contains numerous examples of how people have been healed and survived after experiencing serious illnesses.
And yet the division between the medical community and spiritual healing seems to be wide. Doctors do not want to admit to a higher power and would probably not give much credit to the power of prayer in healing. They base a man's life span on his age, as though being 78 or 89 are reasons enough to have a man die. But why should be limit life to only the young? We should be allowed to live as long as God wills it.
It is about time that the hospital community woke up and embraced the fact that doctors do not decide when a patient will die. Sometimes, God, in his mercy, hears peoples' prayers and answers their prayers by extending the life of the patient.
This then is a true miracle provided by a higher power. Prayer will and can change a person's life. We are truly not alone.

Healing Prayers --Finding the Time to Pray for Others

We are sometimes too full of ourselves. It is when we become too self-absorbed that we don't notice other people at times. It is better for own inner growth to look upon other people and have empathy. Empathy makes us better people and helps us to look out for our neighbor, should he or she require this.
This is when healing prayers are very useful. In my previous blog, I discussed meeting a very inspirational person at a health seminar. His name is Dr. Zhi Gang Sha and he is the author of many books on healing, including Soul, Mind Body Medicine. At the seminar, he arrived to a packed audience full of people seeking spiritual wisdom and the power to learn about healing. His teachings are full of insight and requires several hours of deep concentration and quietness to learn about his thoughts of energy and healing. It is a very powerful, uplifting and positive way to treat disease. And his book provides techniques to channel love and forgiveness to the world.
While in Cuba recently, I felt badly that the country was facing a pretty dry heat spell and many parts of the city and countryside were facing very little rain. Feeling bad about this, I decided to send out a brief prayer to help bring rain, using some of the techniques I read about in his book. It wasn't about an hour or two later that I heard the sky fill with the sounds of thunder and lightning flashed across the sky. Rain soon pounded on the ground and the next day, I found pools of rain water that gathered at the resort where we stayed at.
Whether you agree with Dr. Sha's technique or not, praying for healing is important to do.
Caring for other people is a great way to bring the world closer together. Doing healing prayers is a wonderful way to provide assistance to other people who may need it more than ourselves.
And when we pray for others, we hope the world will be a better and safer place.

The Zen of Gardening

One can argue that the best part of Spring is gardening. It is a perfect way to say good-bye to the winter blues, and hello to the joy of gardening. Gardening is a perfect way to allow an individual to be in touch with nature. It is a perfect way to slow down, contemplate about life and demonstrate that whatever you sow, you definitely will reap.
Gardening allows us to enjoy the beauty that nature has to give and allows us to enjoy that nature also allows our empty stomachs to be full. We are given a lesson that life itself is fragile and every seed that one plants must be nurtured with love and care. Each time one  fails to water the plants, we also do ourselves a disservice by not allowing the plants enough nourishment. By the same token, each time we throw away a plastic bag into the garbage dump, we also add to the growing garbage problem and give a bigger strain on Planet Earth.
Gardening allows us to reach into ourselves and allows us to form a connection to the planet that is important.
Too often we are lead away to spend hours into habits that do not provide soul nourishment. We spend our lives driving to work and directly bring pollution into the planet. We do a lot of damage to the planet with acts of deforestation and the building of condos over ecological lands.
Gardening allows us to be patient. Practicing the art of patience is so important these days because too many of us do not know how to relax. We are always hurrying to go from place to place, and never really take the time to enjoy nature. Stress is a big killer to many people and we need to do more gardening -- it is a direct route to appreciating Mother Earth and being in touch with life itself.

Exploring Health and Wellness Without Going to the Doctor

On a recent beautiful Saturday morning, I joined a throng of people at the annual Wellness show held recently in Vancouver. I was there to meet a healing master, but along the way, I learned a great deal about the latest health remedies  and foods to help melt away the fat, keep the gums clean as well as stay fit.
While one of the draws was receiving a goody bag that contained samples of health beverages, snacks and coupons, the show also featured many booths offering samples for the skin, as well as numerous food and beverage samples. I always enjoyed the generous yogurt provided, and also eagerly took a sip of the latest cranberry juice (not from concentrate) and threw back a delicious soya chocolate drink.
I also found an entrepreneur selling  sets of pricey badminton rackets with the birdie that is made for playing outdoors, even in windy conditions.
I could have spent another hour or two sampling the food or watching famous chefs do what they do best --cook, but instead, I decided to listen to two lectures instead, something I have never done at a wellness show.
I was especially moved by a woman speaker who spoke of how her dying patients could often see a beautiful spiritual side during their final moments on earth. She spoke of how we, too, can reach a moment of discovering the beauty of the spiritual world through the avenue of medition.
All too often we live in a hurly burly world, a busy world where we live only to acquire things. Whether it be the latest gadget, or Iphone, there seems to be no limit to what a person can ever want.
And in this youth-obsessed world, our society finds very little time to deal with things that are spiritual. It is, I  believe because business is about making money and very few businesses will endorse spirituality as a product because it doesn't make them much money.
Thank goodness for the Wellness Show. It is a place where a person can learn about living well for the present, as well as preparing and training the mind to deal with things that are unseen and eternal. The spiritual world is indeed a place which more people should consider. In my  next blog, I will write about listening to a healing master.

A New Year and a New, Healthy Beginning

It's great to be back. Writing, that is. After a brief hiatus, I have returned to my writing with a new passion for ideas and action. Here is my  list of a few actions to be taken in the New Year. 
1. To be a kindler and gentler person on the environment. My good friend, Erica is always a big fan of the environment and pointed out to me  the benefits of going organic, even with things as basic as shampoo. I've come to agree with her and although products that are organic, are often a little more expensive than other things, in the long run, the earth and the user will all benefit from its uses. Consider the benefits: no harsh chemicals, no testing on animals, prevention of dangerous illnesses and diseases, which many articles say, can be received by using regular shampoos.
2. Having more empathy towards others. Empathy, I believe, is one of the distinguishing things that we can have as human beings. It is often easier to react with anger towards another person, without thinking about the consequences, or realizing why this person has acted the way they have.  I believe that the goal of the individual in society is to have empathy and to react with concern towards another person. The regular person is society can show empathy in every day life by not reacting with anger towards another person, whether in dealing with a driver who cut you off or a surly or rude waitress. It is easy to judge, but hard to understand what is underneath a person's skin.
3. Taking time to meditate. In our age where technology rules our world with a passion, it is often hard to tear ourselves away from things, such as the television or the Internet. We don't always take the time to breathe the air, to meditate on our good forturne, or to communicate with others. In our madness to buy the latest gadget, we don't always realize that the most important thing we have is something we cannot buy: time. The time we spend with our family is precious and yet how many of us only get to see our families once a year, or even several times a year. Precious is the time we have, and it seems that we are blinded by all the trappings that technology has given us.
4. To work less, and to spend time doing things that are meaningful. Whether it be volunteering for a cause, or finding an activity that is creative and personally satisfying, I believe that every one should have passion in one's life. To me, film-making and writing are personal passions of mine, and I feel life is more satisfying when you are doing something that is creative, and not wholly centered on work. I am always amazed when I see paintings in a local gallery done by our senior members of society.  It is unfortunately too bad that it is only when we retire it seems that some of us find the time to do expressive, fulfilling things. But I believe that  making time to do creative things may involve as simple a task as turning off your Internet or television for an  hour or so.
5. Focus on health. How many of us eat too much fat and too much of everything? I believe that the best way to be aware of the dangers of overeating is to be mindful that it is occurring.
To conclude, I wish everyone a great New YEAR, and a year that is safe, happy, healthy and environmentally friendly.