Take a little time out today to sing, dance, turn up the volume; make a happy noise, put a little tap in your step, feel the love, share the love and wing-up your soul! That’s right, don’t delay, put a smile in your heart and Go…
Smiles on the Metro
Music is The Sound of My soul
One World ~ Let’s Give Some Love Away
~Also a shout out to wimp.com another great source for innovative and delightful videos.
It is spring in Central Oregon. The sunning is shining down through a pale blue sky. Laundry hangs fresh on the line, lilacs and bleeding heart rests in a glass vase upon the table, their perfuming floating. The backdoor sits open, the patio chairs send out an invitation to stop and revel under the warming sun. Birds chirp, tweet and flutter in the trees, from the birdbath. Bees are buzzing and busy flitting and finding.
Spring springs and the delights are in the being, in the unhurried moments of May-time laughter as color pushes from the earth. Before the headiness of summer and the full bloom sways us, spring enters in her quiet un-contrived way. And it is all the better in the waiting ~ her return. Oh ~ I live for just these days as one unfolds after another, petals in the bud.
Spring invokes poetry – The poetry of Spring in all her quiet glory; her accolades are heralded far and wide. For who can beckon a world without spring and were would rebirth sing her praise.
If you stand ankle deep in happiness will it ring loud and true like tinkling bells with every step you take.
If you stand knee deep in love will it make you buckle and bend in awe of so much, rising again to the day.
If you stand waist deep in joy will you ring out with belly laughs fit for the work of a jester courting the delight of life
If you stand chest deep in compassion will it soften knots wound round the hearts of those met in the passing.
If you stand neck deep in kindness will you press your cheeks one to another knowing the other is you.
If you stand brow deep in bliss will you shine forth as a lighthouse guiding others to the promise of light and love.
If you lie down under the tree of destiny, drip drops of nectar to cover thee, will you rise up to stand ankle deep in happiness . . .
Sadh Bakshish Boyd
Here is a slideshow of delightful vintage Easter postcards and vintage spring art (Molly Brett) hearkening do days gone by of simple ways and the joys of children, spring, egg hunts, Easter parade, Easter bonnets; bunnies, decorated eggs, daffodils, new born life and celebration…
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…and a little Mendelssohn Spring Song …
When I was a young girl I spent endless hours listening to music. My transistor radio rarely left my hand and I feel asleep every night to the songs coming from the radio on my nightstand. I was once grounded off my bike for doing the “jerk” while pedaling. Apparently it was not good bicycle safety, never mind there was no such things as bike helmets back then. My bike and my radio, it just didn’t get any better than that… and myself and my peeps, we sang all the time. We sang in the car, on the bus, in church, at 4-H camps; we sang on the beach, around campfires, on walks and swinging on swings. We sang Top 40, campfire songs, childhood ditties, traveling songs, church songs; songs we learned from parents and grandparents, songs from movies and occasionally naughty nonsense one couldn’t get out of one’s head, no matter how hard ya tried, the tune was just too catchy.
Dancing and singing, singing and dancing, it was a child’s life and what child does not love music.My Uncle had an endless stack of 45′s and we would listen for hours, queuing them into oblivion. It was truly boss, groovy and cool, just like it ought to be; I was in heaven.There was such a blend of music from rock and roll, to R & B, folk, soul; songs of liberation and revolution, anthems for peace and love, old standards and the new sound. The old and the new overlapped each other and brought a merge of music I didn’t see again until the internet made accessible sounds from across the globe, a music conversion to bring joy to my ears.
For a beach girl raised under the California sun, with a bike and a radio, who dreamed of dancing in her own go-go boots while singing “…Hey There Georgie Girl”, music stole the show… and the show must go on…
So here are a few from way back in the day which I still sing about the house or in the car, to my grandchildren and for the sheer love of the song.
♥ For my cousin Debbie ~ my singin’ dancin’ partner in crime. The Yellow Rose of Texas was never the same again.
*Note: I could post music for days. There are so many songs which framed my childhood and it was tough choosing such a small few. Sadly I have to limit myself or I would need to retitle my blog Sadh Bakshish ~ The Gifts & Bounty Music Blog. 
TED Talks ~ I love them. When I get a moment and am so inspired, I take a gander into TED Talks land and see what is new and inspiring, innovative and revealing, expansive and cutting edge. There are many things happening in our world which bring concern and challenges… and there are many things which are instigating change in the way we think, live and experience, not only this planet but the greater realm of being and the vast complex existence we all share. Take a little time out for TED. Hear the voices and see the faces; smart, intelligent, compassionate, innovators… the list goes on and on, as we all do everyday.
For more TED
My youngest daughter Amrit Sadhana, graduated from U of O with a degree in Vocal Performance several years back. She was recently cast as Adele in the Los Angeles Metropolitan Operas production of Die Fledermaus. What a delight to watch her perform with such passion and joy in her craft. May she continue to find her way upon the stage be it grand or modest and may she continue to sing to her hearts content and ours.
Here are two of Amrit Sadhana’s video clips, arias from Act I and Act III.
“What we need is love to guide us and protect us on…”
War on the outside, war on the inside, war on the street, war in the home, war on the playgrounds, war on the continents; war in the heart, war in the spirit, war in the body, war in the mind. War is waring, war is wearying, war is worrying. War is the robber and thief, war is no respecter of anything animal, vegetable or mineral. War is ego unleashed, war is greed, war is taking. One step in greed is one step into war. All genocide is war. All prejudice is war. All hatred is war.
Tend to the war within, in the everyday conflicts which exist within the human condition. All human emotion and desires if left unchecked and mindless contain the seeds of war, for a war within maybe a tide which goes out… and “we don’t need no more trouble”; I don’t need no more trouble.
Take a pledge to be mindful of the war within and tend to the tides which hold potential to breach shores of trouble… duality, greed, ego, comparison, covetousness… Look to oneself, not our governments to stop war by not taking up arms against oneself or another. Practice right speech, right action, right thoughts which serve the fullness of love, forgiveness and kindness. Agree to disagree, allow confusion, distrust and uncertainty without having to take action against it. Do not force resolution. Find your peace within and let its seed take root and foster in the fertile soil of ONE HEART. Look to oneself in Divine connection/correction and send out flowers of great beauty to lay at the feet of one’s enemies, even if they be our own.
“Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Matthew 7:3
~ Relax, Release, Renew.
~ Allow gratitude to move from the tip of your toes to the top of your head.
~ Breathe big and deep and full.
~ Laugh, smile and sing.
~ Trust
~ Let it go, Let It Go, LET IT GO.
~ Find shelter and HOLD steady in a storm.
~ Know green is good, purple is fantastic, blue is beauty and all the
colors of the rainbow are Perfect.
~ Speak the voice of compassion to yourself.
~ Whisper the voice of Divine Goodness into another ear.
~ Say yes, say no, knowing what to say when.
~ Begin again.
~ Pray; Oh yes, Pray.
In August of 1865, a Colonel P.H. Anderson of Big Spring, Tennessee, wrote to his former slave, Jourdan Anderson, and requested that he come back to work on his farm. Jourdan — who, since being emancipated, had moved to Ohio, found paid work, and was now supporting his family — responded spectacularly by way of the letter seen below (a letter which, according to newspapers at the time, he dictated). Via: Letters of Note
(Source: The Freedmen’s Book; Image: A group of escaped slaves in Virginia in 1862, courtesy of the Library of Congress.)
Dayton, Ohio,
August 7, 1865
To My Old Master, Colonel P.H. Anderson, Big Spring, Tennessee
Sir: I got your letter, and was glad to find that you had not forgotten Jourdon, and that you wanted me to come back and live with you again, promising to do better for me than anybody else can. I have often felt uneasy about you. I thought the Yankees would have hung you long before this, for harboring Rebs they found at your house. I suppose they never heard about your going to Colonel Martin’s to kill the Union soldier that was left by his company in their stable. Although you shot at me twice before I left you, I did not want to hear of your being hurt, and am glad you are still living. It would do me good to go back to the dear old home again, and see Miss Mary and Miss Martha and Allen, Esther, Green, and Lee. Give my love to them all, and tell them I hope we will meet in the better world, if not in this. I would have gone back to see you all when I was working in the Nashville Hospital, but one of the neighbors told me that Henry intended to shoot me if he ever got a chance.
I want to know particularly what the good chance is you propose to give me. I am doing tolerably well here. I get twenty-five dollars a month, with victuals and clothing; have a comfortable home for Mandy,—the folks call her Mrs. Anderson,—and the children—Milly, Jane, and Grundy—go to school and are learning well. The teacher says Grundy has a head for a preacher. They go to Sunday school, and Mandy and me attend church regularly. We are kindly treated. Sometimes we overhear others saying, “Them colored people were slaves” down in Tennessee. The children feel hurt when they hear such remarks; but I tell them it was no disgrace in Tennessee to belong to Colonel Anderson. Many darkeys would have been proud, as I used to be, to call you master. Now if you will write and say what wages you will give me, I will be better able to decide whether it would be to my advantage to move back again.
As to my freedom, which you say I can have, there is nothing to be gained on that score, as I got my free papers in 1864 from the Provost-Marshal-General of the Department of Nashville. Mandy says she would be afraid to go back without some proof that you were disposed to treat us justly and kindly; and we have concluded to test your sincerity by asking you to send us our wages for the time we served you. This will make us forget and forgive old scores, and rely on your justice and friendship in the future. I served you faithfully for thirty-two years, and Mandy twenty years. At twenty-five dollars a month for me, and two dollars a week for Mandy, our earnings would amount to eleven thousand six hundred and eighty dollars. Add to this the interest for the time our wages have been kept back, and deduct what you paid for our clothing, and three doctor’s visits to me, and pulling a tooth for Mandy, and the balance will show what we are in justice entitled to. Please send the money by Adams’s Express, in care of V. Winters, Esq., Dayton, Ohio. If you fail to pay us for faithful labors in the past, we can have little faith in your promises in the future. We trust the good Maker has opened your eyes to the wrongs which you and your fathers have done to me and my fathers, in making us toil for you for generations without recompense. Here I draw my wages every Saturday night; but in Tennessee there was never any pay-day for the negroes any more than for the horses and cows. Surely there will be a day of reckoning for those who defraud the laborer of his hire.
In answering this letter, please state if there would be any safety for my Milly and Jane, who are now grown up, and both good-looking girls. You know how it was with poor Matilda and Catherine. I would rather stay here and starve—and die, if it come to that—than have my girls brought to shame by the violence and wickedness of their young masters. You will also please state if there has been any schools opened for the colored children in your neighborhood. The great desire of my life now is to give my children an education, and have them form virtuous habits.
Say howdy to George Carter, and thank him for taking the pistol from you when you were shooting at me.
From your old servant,
Jourdon Anderson.
