Hearts at Half Mast

My heart’s at half mast along with the flags of Newark.  The Buddhist tenet of nonattachment is not working.  I want Whitney Houston to be alive.  I long to hear her voice again–alive–lingering confidently acappella.

The family shared her lyrical genius with fans for 30 years.  At what price?  What is it about the American frenzy for stardom that sucks the sparkle out of brilliance at a young age?  Recently I saw My Week with Marilyn and marvelled at her luminous ways of turning sane, rational men into Jello.  Her life sputtered early.

Are we a society so dearly dedicated to mediocrity that we delegate the deep desire for expression to others?  What to do—

Let’s take our anger and sorrow to the page, the canvas, the mike, the keyboard, the office, the meeting hall, and the boardroom.  Belt out something original, something of the caliber of “I have a dream”; “Ask not what your country can do for you”; or “I Will Always Love You.”

And fall to our collective knees, asking for each collective addiction to be removed–greed, passivity, gluttony, consumerism, national debt.  I’ll do that right after I tap Publish.  I promise.

 

That unmistakable still quiet voice inside

Have you ever had a time when you knew you were receiving clear guidance–direction so urgent that you couldn’t ignore it?

Once I was driving alone in a remote area, on rolling hills in the Midwest, going along on the interstate at a good clip.  A small sports car passed me on the left, going very fast.  As I approached a hill, that unmistakable voice said clearly, “Move over into the left lane.”

I did so, and as I topped the hill, there was the speeding car, flipped upside down, completely wrecked in the right lane.  I was the first on the scene, mere seconds after the accident–did what I could to calm and assist the driver and passengers trapped in the car. Soon the highway patrol and ambulances came to take care of things.

That still quiet voice saved my life.

Happy Valentine’s Day, and hug those near and dear to you.

 

The Greatest Love of All

As a nation, friends, fans, and family mourn the passing of the golden voice that became a template for those who followed, it helps somewhat to really think about the lyrics of one of Whitney Houston’s most popular songs.

The greatest love of all really is inside of you.  There’s your higher self, your more inspired self, your higher power, or whatever you choose to call it.

It’s there.

If you have times of doubt, take a look at my book Notes from God. It will perk you up.

Have a blessed and loving Valentine’s Day!