Gratitude

Several years ago, I worked in a computer lab at the university I attended as a graduate student. Since I was the one who usually had to open the lab, I often got to campus very early, and was one of the first people in the parking lot.

Getting up early and commuting on the Merit Parkway was not fun. Sometimes there would be traffic jams. Other times, there was so much ice, I could barely get to work safely.

As much as I hated the commute, sometimes there were nice parts about arriving early.

Listening to my Higher Self, El, I finally heard perhaps the most important truth of all.

I pushed on in my conversation with my Higher Self, who I’m calling El, and asked, What is the gift of my aloneness?

And this time my answer came as a stream of questions.

Did the loss of your intimate relationship not force you to reclaim your projections and encounter many hidden aspects of yourself, in the process healing, by loving, all of your Being, and teaching you how to give unconditional love to others?

And did this not make you a better healer as well as a more peaceful human being?

Handicaps or disabilities can be things like poverty, a less than pleasing appearance, or a lack of freedom, support or community.

In my case, My Higher Self, El, revealed, my handicap, or disability, is the lack of several types of partnership that I have always fervently desired and am not currently enjoying in my life – the intimate kind; the sustained, soulful work/business variety; and the type that comes from a group of people working together, up close and persistently, on a cause that is dear to their hearts.

The other day (actually several years ago when I wrote the story I’m now telling you) a good friend sent me a video about an autistic boy. You know the plot: A person overcomes a handicap to accomplish something amazing, their achievement is celebrated and emotionally shared by lots of people, and the viewer sheds a lot of happy tears.

You’re staying home.
You’re washing hands.
You’re drinking water.

Now what?
Are you still anxious?

Do you realize the entire world is now focusing single-pointedly on well-being?
Everyone in their own way.
Vast numbers, hidden, like stars in the sky in the daylight.

The doctors and nurses and researchers in their way.
The caregivers in their way.
The people of all religions in their way.
The light-workers in their way.

One of our favorite summer days was blueberry day.

We’d put on old clothes, our straw hats, then gather our baskets and make our way to the Jones’ Family Farm in Shelton. We’d hitch a ride on the “berry ferry”, and be driven out to the blueberry bushes.

Blueberries are easy to pick and practically popped into our small baskets. When our small baskets were filled, we’d dump them all into the big basket and fill that up. The camera was always on hand.

After the picking, we’d drive to Huntington Center and have lunch and dessert at Sassafras Restaurant.

Introduction

There’s a difference between alone without a life’s partner yet and being lonely. I wrote this song to explain the difference as I’ve come to understand it.

   The actual song itself is available only in spoken form, as requested by Philip.

About the Author

Phil Gross has written poetry and turned them into songs since he was about 19 years old. Many people write in diaries or journals.
Poetry and songs are his journals, documenting his life, strife, loves and the passing of his years.

   The actual song itself is available only in spoken form, as requested by Philip.

About the Author

Phil Gross has written poetry and turned them into songs since he was about 19 years old. Many people write in diaries or journals.
Poetry and songs are his journals, documenting his life, strife, loves and the passing of his years.

Introduction

My wife really loves Christmas. The spirit of it, and everything about it. So, I wrote her this song.

   The actual song itself is available only in spoken form, as requested by Philip.

Response from John

The last GEM you just listened to was titled A Carousel Christmas Ride by Phil the Wordsmith.

I wish you were in the studio with us. He nearly broke a tear 2 or 3 times in the performance of that poem. And these are really not poems -their songs.