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The Building Blocks of a Good Life

Photo by Chloe Elise

Seeing a young child at play always makes me smile. Haven’t you looked at a young giggling face and felt joy, and maybe even a little envy? Wouldn’t it be great to recapture some of that childlike wonder and love of life again?

The truth is, the good life is closer than we think, as close as watching a child play.  But how can watching a child play show us how to live a good life?

Picture in your mind a toddler playing with blocks. They are caught up in the wonder of each block, all the different shapes and colors and sizes.

They take each one in their hand, turning it all around in wonder & joy. There are some blocks that will be their favorites, but if even a favorite one rolls under a couch they will soon let it go & keep playing with the others.

Prayer For Healing

Editor’s Note

I am privileged to introduce Rahi to our TSN family. Rahi was my beloved yoga teacher during my 3 months stay in India, and had guided me to bliss on many occasions. To me, she is the embodiment of grace. The following was originally an email she had sent to me, which we edited to share with you here, along with a practical meditation that anyone can do at home. With love, -Tina

An event such as this reminds us of the impermanent nature of our lives. It helps us remember that what's most important is to love each other, to be there for each other, and to treasure each moment we have that we are alive. This is the best that we can do for those who have died: we can live in such a way that they continue, beautifully, in us. ~Thich Nhat Hanh

When I saw the horrific scenes of the terrible earthquake and the tsunami that have devastated Japan and its people, my first response was one of deep pain.

All that my family, friends and I could talk about, and keep seeing again and again were the ongoing pain-filled visuals that every TV channel around the world was beaming into every home.

Then came the emails, facebook postings, tweets, phone calls, etc….everyone was reaching out to every other person possible spreading the alarm and concern.

The cataclysmic events in Japan became personal because a dear student and now a fellow yoga teacher was living there. I was desperate to know that he and his family were safe.

Confessions of a Manipulator

Photo by Sara Lando

As a child, I didn’t quite fit in the role of your average kid growing up. I guess you could say I was a typical sensitive, quiet child—a “Mama’s boy” if you will. I enjoyed music, reading, knitting, and skipping with the girls, while my older brother played pee-wee hockey, little league baseball, and collected sports memorabilia.

Evenings at our home usually meant my brother and father watching Hockey Night in Canada, while my mother and I would watch The Love Boat, Dallas, or whatever other cheesy 80’s television program was playing at the time.

Many evenings and several hockey games later, my brother and father got to use the big color TV in the living-room, while mom and I got stuck watching the little black and white in the bedroom. That hardly seemed fair. But as long as Mom and I were together, I felt safe.

Why I Write

Photo by the talented Wynona Grey. See more of her work on flickr.

To me, writing is not work. Writing is like dancing with Existence, with Spirit, with God. It’s beautiful and precious. I get more satisfaction and energy from writing than I do from a few extra hours of sleep. Seriously.

Some days, when absorbed in the moment of writing down a stream of thoughts, I lose track of time, and I skip sleep altogether. And I function fine the next day–only with a bigger smile.

Sometimes a string of words will hit me so strongly that I will sit in front of the computer bawling. I cry, not because I am sad, but because I’ve experienced such intense joy that it moved me to tears.

Writing is just one form of creative outlet. I am no more qualified to write than you. And usually, as I relax and flow with my stream of consciousness, and write down whatever comes to mind, the result is surprising to me too. I am just a messenger after all.

Dreams Come True: Story of Audacity

Photo by Kai Z Feng. Follow him on flickr.

What are your dreams? What are you passionate about?

Around the time I graduated University I became fascinatedwith photography. It became my first passion. I dreamed of becoming a professional photographer.

I loved photography, and dove in head first determined to make my dreams come true. I read books, took countless images, invested in equipments, spent countless hours in Photoshop, attended gallery showings, and took classes on specialized subjects.

I loved photography so much that –at one point- I built a darkroom from scratch, rented a large loft space to have my ideal studio setup and eventually married a photographer – who I admired, because he was so confident with his craft and was among the few successful working photographers I’d met. Most other photographers I encountered all struggled to make ends meet.

Becoming a Millionaire

Photo by Edwin Stemp. Follow him on Flickr.
Editor’s Note

This article was extracted from the TSN Insider Newsletter.

A few weeks ago, I was standing in line at the grocery store to do some customer returns from my son’s birthday party. The customer service counter at the chain store is also the place where people buy lottery tickets, rent DVDs, buy cigarettes, rent carpet cleaners, along with costumer returns.

There were a dozen people standing in line. Since we were all waiting, in order to kill time, we all tilted our heads to watch the person at the front of the line.

The guy at the front of the line was buying lottery tickets. While making conversation with the person behind him, “All it takes is one ticket.” His face beaming as he continued, “… and then you’ll be a millionaire.

His eyes sparkled as he said that with absolute conviction that this could be his lucky week, and then he would be “set” for life. He completed his routine transaction of purchasing his lotto ticket and walked away. I wondered how long he’s been buying lottery tickets, week after week, with an undying dream of getting that golden ticket – becoming a millionaire.

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