Everyone has their own karma to bear. It can’t be shared by anyone else because we are each It! And when I say “it,” I mean either the ego or the Christ Consciousness. Take your pick. One way you suffer mechanically and the other way you suffer consciously. Someone said that suffering is the door to happiness. And I say, “Only if you can manage to suffer consciously.”

My brother just got home from the hospital; he has had numerous stays there in the past year or so and it never gets any easier or pleasant for him. We are emailing almost daily and have spent much of those emails remembering times when we were children. There is something very sweet about that.

The child within is a survivor, even though it may have been seemingly destroyed on one level or another. We make it happy when we make our grown-up selves happy. It is like the tables are turned by some miraculous change in attitude.

I am enjoying the spring weather. Tomorrow I am going to have tea with a group of women that my friend Tallulah led in dreamwork at The Wellness Community, which is no longer called that. It merged with Gilda’s Club and took on a new name that I have trouble remembering!

Week after next I see the doctor for a checkup. I scared Rob to death a week or so ago when I almost passed out after cleaning some hawk poop from our newly-painted deck. I broke out in a cold sweat and was dizzy to the point of almost fainting. I think my blood pressure is too low; I was perfectly fine after I lay down for a while.

As I told my brother, we each have our own personal karma, even though we may be living with other people. Krishna Das explained that in a video I was watching and he made it seem completely reasonable that it be that way.

Whatever we can do to wake up is first for ourselves and then for others. If you try and reverse it, you just become another annoying people-pleaser.

I found a funny joke I sent to my bro while he was in the hospital. A short woman tells her doctor that every time it rains, her “nether parts” hurt. He is puzzled because he doesn’t see anything wrong. “So,” he says, “the next time it rains, come in and I will take another look.”

It rains and sure enough, she shows up to be examined. As she is lying on the table, she sees him picking up a pair of scissors and hears him using them. She is horrified. “What did you do?” She asks him, scared to death.
“I just cut 3 inches off of your galoshes!” He said.

I will stop here so you can laugh.

Vicki Woodyard