Celebrating the Equinox

Traveling "In The Footsteps of Our Spiritual Ancestors" with Wayne Dyer

by Gillian Drake

Sept. 22nd, 2012

I am alone in Italy, sitting on a stone bench at La Spezia station waiting for the train to Rome. The train is not due for nearly an hour, so there is time to think, time to reflect, time to write. What luxury!

I pretend I am invisible; I am the observer, seeing the world go by, here to experience and record. The weather is changing, the warm sun tempered by a cool breeze, aria fresca, they call it here, a sign of cooler weather to come.

I am headed for Rome and a cruise to Istanbul with Wayne Dyer on a ship named, fittingly, the Celebrity Equinox. Today, at this very moment in fact, is the autumnal equinox, that marker of time when the hours of daylight and darkness are equal and we start to slip closer towards winter.

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The Glamour of Aging

by Barbara Strakele

Getting ready for bed is becoming more of a project than I ever dreamed. I can rationalize that in the morning a woman will fix her hairdo, apply makeup and select an outfit, leaving it up to the individual as to how much fussing is warranted.

But for bed????

Every night I run a brush through my hair to free up all of the hairs that would have fallen loose during the day if they weren't epoxied together with hairspray. Then I run my fingers around the surface of the sink to capture potential drain clogs. If a lot of hair has scattered on the floor, I have to shake them off the bathmat and blast them with the blow drier to corral them for disposal.

Makeup comes off easily with soapy hands followed by a gentle rub of a warm face cloth and a pat with my bath towel. Are we done yet? No. I need to apply a thin application of Metrogel, a prescription cream, around my nose and mouth to protect me from the horrors of adult acne.

Prescription eye drops are next. Right eye first…and it must be kept closed for at least a minute. Meanwhile I fish the nasal spray out of the makeup/medicine draw of the vanity.

This gets a gentle shake before spraying two fast shots into each nostril while looking down at my toes. The looking down part only pertains to the position that your head should be in while you are squirting. Remember, I still have one eye closed until I stop counting to 60.

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Bed Hopping

by Nicola Burnell

There's nothing better than a comfortable bed. Except a REALLY comfortable bed!

So when I prepared to leave the soft sheets and blankets of my king-sized nest to spend the Holidays with my family, I was disappointed to find I couldn't get a good night's sleep for almost two weeks prior to my departure.

Pre-vacation lists and anxieties stole my peace. None of my usual calm-me-down routines worked; trading red wine for Sleepytime tea, drops of lavender on the pillow… I knew I'd be bed hopping for the entire Holidays and wanted to clock some Zzzzz before I left.

With less than two hours sleep the night before we flew to London, I staggered onto the plane looking like death warmed over. Excuse the gruesome simile but it was that bad.

I got no sleep on the plane (that's another story) so when I arrived at my sister Sue's house in Surrey, around 9 a.m., I almost cried when she suggested I stay awake until 9 p.m. GMT to face down jet lag. I stared into my coffee mug. My circadian rhythms had gone up the spout weeks ago and I just wanted a bed – any bed.

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The Great Valentine's Day Lapazoo

by Saralee Perel

I was always Mom's valentine. And she was mine.

I'm hoping maybe others can experience the joy I did, with their mother, daughter or anyone at all.

Dad gave Mom roses. She loved that. Then one year he didn't and never did again. He was a despondent man. Their marriage was not a good one. Mom voiced her rage. Dad kept his in. But it had to manifest somehow. So he no longer did nice things for her and became very withdrawn.

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