Believe none of what you hear and only half of what you see!

Believe none of what you hear and only half of what you see! So the old saying goes.
2008
Jennifer Thompson-Cannino, Ronald Cotton, and Erin Torneo from ~
http://www.soros.org/initiatives/usprograms/focus/justice/programs/justice_fellows/grantees/thompson_2008
Over 200 people in the U.S. have had their convictions overturned by DNA evidence. Three-quarters of these cases involved mistaken eyewitness testimony, making it the leading cause of wrongful conviction. Picking Cotton: A True Story, by Ronald Cotton and Jennifer Thompson-Cannino (with Erin Torneo), will illuminate the problems with eyewitness testimony through Thompson-Cannino and Cotton's own story.
Thompson-Cannino has become an outspoken opponent of the death penalty, frequently addressing the need for judicial reform. After a brutal rape she suffered as a 22-year-old college student, Thompson-Cannino gave eyewitness testimony that sent Ronald Cotton to prison not once, but twice, for crimes he did not commit. Together, they successfully lobbied state legislators to change compensation laws for the wrongly convicted in North Carolina. Thompson-Cannino is now a member of the North Carolina Actual Innocence Commission, the advisory committee for Active Voices, the Constitution Project, and Mothers for Justice. Her op-eds have appeared in the New York Times, the Durham-Herald Sun, and the Tallahassee Democrat.
Ronald Cotton was arrested in 1984 and wrongfully convicted of first-degree rape, sexual offense, and breaking and entering, and sentenced to life in prison plus 54 years. Cotton won a new trial in 1987, only to be charged and convicted of a second rape, resulting in two life sentences. Largely through his persistence in proclaiming his innocence and the development of sophisticated DNA tests, Cotton was exonerated in 1995, after serving nearly eleven years. With Thompson-Cannino, he has spoken at various venues including Washington and Lee University, University of Nevada Las Vegas, Georgetown Law School, the Chicago Museum for Contemporary Photography’s Innocence Exhibit, and the Community March for Justice for Troy Anthony Davis in Savannah, Georgia.
Erin Torneo’s work has appeared in various publications including the Kyoto Journal, SEED, Cosmopolitan, Variety’s V-Life, the Independent, and indiewire. In 2007, she was awarded a nonfiction fellowship from the New York Foundation for the Arts. She is a member of the American Society of Journalists and Authors. Picking Cotton will be her second book.
The gift of Forgiveness
Jennifer said two years after Ronald Cotton was released She felt she needed to see him, and some how let him know how terrible she felt for having him convicted for a crime he never committed. The burden of knowing she had robbed this innocent man of 11 years of his life in insurmountable. She went over all of the possible scenarios of how he would react but never imagined in her wildest Dreams what really happened when they actually met. He forgave her, that’s right he forgave her, this wonderful man would have been justified by any one to hate her for his entire life but he forgave her. Since that time they have become very close friends, working together on many different projects as well as with an author Erin Torneo, to tell there story.
I had the opportunity to here about this wonderful and moving story on the Dian Rehms show on NPR the best unbiased radio on the air. So once again teaching me the wisdom in the old saying “Believe none of what you hear and only half of what you see!”
Just Something to think about.

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Just something to think about

Peace Satori
Charles Lyon

life can be be a real presant, if you let it.

The present moment is all you will ever have so why not live there?
In the modern world of mass communication and cell phones I find it interesting how people have transferred the preoccupation of society with some where else, to even the cell phone.

I see students in a group all together instead of talking to each other in the group , some will be instant messaging some one not there, others on the phone talking to some one else instead of interacting with who is in front of them right now.

Most of my life I have been a people watcher at a younger age some of the time in judgment of all I see in recent years it has shifted to not in judgment of what I see as much as the desire to understand the dynamics of the human species.

From this place I find that all people are basically good and want the same things, but there unconsciousness brings them allot of misery. Since we are all more alike then different the more I can understand you the more I can understand myself.

In seeing and understanding your motivations I can see and more fully my motivations. Years ago when I was working for a personal development company one of the concepts I was introduced to is the fact that we are all blind to our dysfunctional behaviors.

Manley because the dysfunctional behaviors’ are habitual, mechanical and participated in unconsciously, like Pavlov’s Dog some one pushes the button and we react instantly. We get a complement we feel up or good, we get criticized and we feel down or get up set instantly and automatically, just like a machine.

When we gather with people we have known instead of being present in the here and now we talk about things that happened in the past with them, remembering joys, follies, stupid things we did, and so on.

You could truly say every ones favorite place is SOME WHERE ELSE, other then where we are right now.

At work we are always some were else thinking about bills or our kids, or what we will do that night or what we will do on the weekend, or thinking about how some one upset us going over it again and again and again.

Leaving us board at work hating what we are doing now and wanting to be some where else. Most people hate there Job, with the most common complaints being boredom, and monotints’ work turning what we do to make a living in to miserable experience.

I know most of my life I have hated what I did for a living all of it. Then I got a job that I truly loved, and because of circumstances that at the time seamed beyond my reach left it.

And I suffered for years longing to be doing that job again even hating the fact that I ever had it. Because every thing else sucked in comparison.

Now I know that it wasn’t the job but how I participated in the job that made it so fun and fulfilling.

The job was as a facilitator of workshops and processes with people one on one. The job required my complete undivided attention in the here and now.

When I am present in the here and now even the most boring job as perceived before can be fulfilling enjoyable and even fun. The secrete is to give it my undivided attention, to fully be here right now, in what ever I am doing right now, with out resistance of any kind.

From this place even weighting for a doctors appointment can be enjoyable. Did you ever think about it, that there will never be a time in your life that is not right now, and you will never be any where that is not right here. Here and now it all there is and all there will ever be.

There in not any dreamed of wonderful, fulfilling, and exciting event that will not happen and be experienced right here and right now. There will never be any thing you can do that is not right here and right now.

And we still persist to think of dream of long for “some where else” other then right her and right now.

So end the suffering by allowing your self to just be present here right now.

Enjoy what you do by excepting what ever you are dealing with and give it your undivided attention, right here right Now.

And transform your boring monotones job in to something that is fulfilling enjoyable and even fun.

Just something to think about.

The True Mind verses The Egoic Mind.

The true Mind.

The true mind is part of us from the every first moment of life and could be called the observer, it is always conscious 24/7 taking in every thing, the observer is intensely curious and interested in every thing, It has no judgments of any thing just the desire to understand.

The true mind isn’t afraid of any thing but instead lives in the realm of Unconditional Love and peace. The true mind lives in the ever present and even when it is involved with the future in is in the “present future Now”. If it is involved with the past it is in the present Past Now.

Time and space has no meaning to the true mind what ever it focuses on it is present moment now no matter where or when it is. This is why remote Viewing is possible.

The true mind is always at peace in every situation and loves unconditionally all of life with out any separation.

The Observer is not attached to any thing of form, including the body of the self. The observer could be in a massive car accident and see the body broken and bleeding and it would find the whole thing extremely interesting, but neither good or bad.

The observer cannot be deceived because it lives in the realm of all that is and is aware of its connection to all that is. It is aware of all the functions of the body every cell, every system, It is also aware of the collective intelligence of the universe and can answer any question about any thing.

It is pure intelligence.

The true mind doesn’t have a struggle for control it enjoys observing the egoic mind and will relinquish control to the egoic mind just because it enjoys observing the weird and distorted places it can go. When ever you are observing any thing in the present moment with out Judgment you are in the true mind. Like factious on your breath notice how it feels as your lungs fill with air and then as it leaves your lungs, this exercise can only be experienced by the true mind, which is stillness.

The Egoic Mind.

The egoic mind is always unconscious, it is always in the realm of Illusion. It is the source of all insanity, people who are completely insane are living in the consciousness of the egoic mind all the time. The ego is never in the present moment of here and now, but always in the futures or the past.

Fear lives in the egoic mind, and can only be experienced in the egoic mind. The egoic mind attaches it's self to every thing in the physical world and thinks it is every thing in the physical world.

Every attachment we have to every thing in the physical world weather it is our body, our home, our friends, our family, or our possessions.
Every attachment we have to our emotions is also the ego, pain becomes our pain, sadness becomes our sadness, depression becomes our depression, guilt becomes our guilt, shame becomes our shame. and don't try to remove them the ego will rebel it wants to keep them all.

It feels a sense of loss when every any thing in the physical or emotional world leaves. It is devastated when it loses any thing because it identifies with every thing in the physical world.

To the egoic mind outward things are an extension of it's self, and if our car is wrecked it feels a loss of perceived self. The egoic mind wants to always be in control and feels threatened when ever we are not in its realm.

To move consciousness in the present moment is experienced as death to the egoic mind so it will fight it always and forever.


The egoic mind is where conditioned unconscious responses comes from like Pavlov’s Dog it salivates every time the bell rings and never knows why.

Like a recorded program of a computer all it needs is to be started and it will go on auto pilot and your are not aware of how it works and why.

Often not even aware the conditioned program is even running, it must have you unconscious in order to remain. That’s why we are all blind to our dysfunctional behavior, for as soon as you are aware it is running you have the power to stop the program.

It is constantly working to reinforce its every Illusion as being the truth. The Egoic mind is incapable of telling the truth and it is constantly in promotion the unconscious, of fear it loves and feeds on Unconsciousness’ attached to fear.

When it gives you bad advice that doesn’t work it will give you the exact same advice again and tell you that you just didn’t try hard enough or something else to disguise its absurdness.

Its favorite mask is smoke and mirrors, constantly recapitulating the same absurd and useless message, but with a new and pretty package but in side it’s still just a broken worthless thought form.

It never worked even once, but it tells you that you still need to by a brand new, worthless model because it will work better then the last one, and when you do it’s just the old piece of shit with a fresh coat of paint.

If you fight the Ego it will always win. The only way to overcome the ego is through quiet observation with out a need to change a thing.

In the present moment just observe it like it was a child that just wants to be loved and understood. This will over come all of the egoic influence to live in the present moment with out any resistance or desire to be any were then where you are now.
Excepting and embracing and loving what is. In this realm you will make it your friend and it will never again be able to create illusion again.

A profound process to allow you to move in to the true mind is the Work by Byron Katie.

A Gift from Rose:

I received this from My sister in Law Dian
A Gift from Rose:
The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn't already know. I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that lit up her entire being.

She said, 'Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I'm eighty-seven years old.
Can I give you a hug?' I laughed and enthusiastically responded; 'Of course you may!' and she gave me a giant squeeze.

'Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?' I asked. She jokingly replied, 'I'm here to meet a rich husband, get married, and have a couple of kids...' 'No seriously,' I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age. 'I always dreamed of having a college education and now I'm getting one!' she told me.

After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake. We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months we would leave class together and talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized listening to this 'time machine' as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.

Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up.

At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I'll never forget what she taught us.

She was introduced and stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor.
Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said, 'I'm sorry I'm so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I'll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell you what I know.'

As we laughed she cleared her throat and began, '! We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing. There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up.

There are only a few secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success. You have to laugh and find humor every day and you've got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die. We have so many people walking around who are dead and don't even know it!

If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don't do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old. If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty-eight.
Anybody can grow older. That doesn't take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding opportunity in change. Have no regrets.

We elderly usually don't have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear death are those with regrets'

She concluded her speech by courageously singing 'The Rose.' She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives.

At the year's end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago. One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep.
Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it's never too late to be all you can possibly be.

When you finish reading this, please send this peaceful word of advice to your friends and family, they'll really enjoy it!

These words have been passed along in loving memory of ROSE.

REMEMBER, GROWING OLDER IS MANDATORY. GROWING UP IS OPTIONAL. We make a Living by what we get, We make a Life by what we give.

God promises a safe landing, not a calm passage. If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it.

'Good friends are like stars.........You don't always see them, but you know they are always there.'

The Gift by Gary Acevedo

THE GIFT
by Gary Acevedo Note: this story is copy righted and posted with permission from Gary Acevedo


I remember it was the same year my father had lost his job. He had missed work for a time long enough, that even today, I am left with the memory of using candles, to light our house. They had cut off our electricity. Even my only sweater bore holes, and my socks resembled Swiss cheese. We had never before considered ourselves as being poor but the gathered financial hurdles of the past year had left us quite bad off. Oft' times the charitable neighbors offered their kind assistance, but dad was proud. He'd refuse charity. I couldn't understand the whole situation, and it seemed to me that my smaller brother, Jerry, who had mowed lawns all summer long, owned 80% of the family's wealth! This seemingly great amount of money sat heavily in a large piggy bank on top of his dresser drawers. Occasionally I'd sneak in and grab a little. That was only when I had a worthy cause. I never felt that guilty about it either. I would think to myself, "He can't exactly be saving for college." Not in his condition he wasn't.

Jerry, who was a year younger than I, twelve, was different from other people. He entered this mocking world a mongoloid. He looked different in a funny kind of way and had the mentality of a six year old. He also had a speech problem. His voice was very low and gruff and he pronounced a lot of syllables wrong.

The difference, had separated us, as the ugly weeds that separate those flowers_ in a garden who are only crying out for a world in which to grow in harmony. Yet, there was a time, once, when we were very young and fresh and new to life, when we used to be so close. We were as baby cubs climbing the tree of life. Though we might have stumbled many times, we stumbled together. In those first innocent years, there were no two children who were closer. We shared many moments of laughter and tears. Laughing at ourselves or other people, crying over spankings, chuckling over our sneakiness, and huddling #ether when we were scared by the darkness that can fill so much of a child's world. In our sharing of life's bitter and sweet, all the joys and sorrows, we grew fonder of each other than we knew how to express.

I had grown up understandin Jerry's speech and until I became pre-school aged, I never detected that somehow Jerry *as different. Jerry was just Jerry and I loved him.

While we were still young enough to be innocent and curious, I can still remember very early one special memory. We were chatting about a powerful thought.

"I wonder what it's like to he dead." I asked him. "Hmm" he mumbled as usual.

"Who would I miss the most if they died?" I seemed to ask myself.

"Who would you miss the most, Jerry?" "You," he said with a slightly frightened gaze.

"Yea, I think I'd miss you the most too." He smiled and closed his eyes.

Due to finances, we only had one bed for both of us, and that night I must have fallen asleep with my arms around him. I was glad we only had one bed.

I guess I never realized how well our mother had kept us under her wing until I had to started daycare and suddenly something began bothering me.

Nobody else was like Jerry. No one talked like him, or smiled so simply. Month by month along with other friends and children so came the painful realization; something was "wrong" with Jerry. Reality had whispered louder and louder with every day that Jerry was different. His difference was an illness, a disease that took him from me and changed him continuously until he was no longer my brother, instead, a simple animal. A misfit who had caused me enough embarrassment to make me hate him.

Though many times I had tried to sum up Jerry's condition, my pondering always left me with the unanswerable question, "Why? Why him? Why me?" I felt I was being denied the pleasures of having a normal brother. I'd tell myself that no brother at all would be better than having Jerry to live with. Often, to satisfy my anger and resentment, I became very cruel towards him. Why? Who can define embarrassment without questions?

One time I remember I'd gone to play some ball, and as usual he'd shadowed right behind me. The guys wouldn't let me play, because to keep the two teams equal, they'd only let two boys join in at a time. Nobody wanted Jerry on their side and that kept me from playing too.

It had happened many times before. Each time mounted resentment. Each time I hated him. There wasn't a moment that went by without him getting in the way. This time the mountain of hate inside me exploded and I turned on him, "Look, you stupid lookin' creep, why ya gotta follow me around? Leave me alone and go home." Then I slapped him, again and again, cause I wished he was dead. I couldn't go anywhere without being embarrassed. Everyone was always referring to me as 'the one with the M.R. for a brother.' I didn't want to be embarrassed. I wished he was dead.

He finally went home crying.

I told myself that I didn't care, but on the way home I started worrying about the chewing out I would get from my parents when they found out that I'd hit Jerry. I was so guilty that my head was swarming with confusion, and I felt like running home to get my punishment over with. As I walked in the door, I really felt sorry.

My head was down - but the parents said nothing to me. I entered my room bewildered until Jerry came up to me with wet eyes. Ironically enough he apologized to me. He was sorry for making me angry.

I also remember one time that summer we'd gone to the beach.

Naturally I had to be the one to look out for Jerry, but after a short while all the kids around us started staring at us with those extra large piercing and curious eyes when they noticed Jerry way different.

I couldn't take it anymore and I knew that if I ignored him long enough he'd "get lost." Well, he got lost all right, only he got lost for a long time. They'd begun to think maybe he drowned. Pitifully enough, I told myself, I couldn't care less. Hours later, after mom's eyes had been cried dry and the minor search had ended, an old man brought him back on top of his shoulders. Jerry's head was down. His eyes saw only a sad eternity. The old man said he'd found him about two miles down the beach, behind an old outhouse, sitting in the sand and crying. You know, it seemed Jerry did an awful lot of crying.

Well, as time passed, thoughts changed, leaves fell, and snow came, everyone began looking towards Christmas. I was looking at a dream. There was this beautiful watch in the jeweler's window. This watch had a brilliant gold band. It really wasn't too expensive, but too expensive for us. I knew it was impossible, but I liked to imagine that Christmas morning would find me wearing it. Every time I passed the shop I'd stare at it forever.

I woke up Christmas morning in a rush to open the one gift that was for me by the fireplace. We didn't have a tree that year. My face turned to a grin upon opening the neatly wrapped gift. It was a great looking sweater. I really needed one too. "Thanks a lot, dad," I shouted, but noticed how tired he looked so I asked him, "did you stay up all night with Jerry again?" "Yes," he replied, "he's getting worse."

You see, Dad was referring to Jerry's cold. Jerry was very sick. About a week before Jerry and I had gone tubing in the snow. Jerry ended up at the bottom of the hill, head down in a snowdrift. He lay there kicking and yelling for help, but again, memories of past embarrassing moments brought out my cruelty, and I actually watched him dying until I was satisfied. When I finally dug him out, instead of realizing what I had done, the poor dumb idiot, jumped up and grabbed me, crying and between his gasps for air and his tears, he tried to thank me for saving his life. Anyway, he'd caught pneumonia and my parents had spent the last two nights with him.

"Let's go join your Mother and Jerry," Dad said. Jerry's room smelt of medicine and Jerry really looked horrible, but his eyes were all lit up. I didn't know why because she was kinda' smilin, but Mom had been crying. She sniffed softly and said, "Jerry's got a surprise for you, Jim." I figured he was gonna hit me with another one of his homemade,
butcher-paper, water colored type Christmas cards he'd made. I could count on one every year. He tried to jump out of bed but soon found he was so weary he could barely move.

He wobbled over to his closet and pulled it out: Another card, just a flat sheet about a square foot big, and written in red water color, "TO MY BIG BROTHER: WHOM I LOVE THE MOST."

While I was reading it something strange caught the corner of my vision. Something in the background caught my focus. I noticed the broken pieces of Jerry's piggy bank in the corner. I was about to ask what happened to all the money when he slowly reached under his bed and pulled out a small box. He wiped his nose with his P.J. sleeve, then stood there with his arm stretched out, his eyes lit up with a special fire and with all the love he could muster up in that low gruff voice he said, "Wary Kwishmash, Shimmy!" I opened the box in a daze.

There it was. It was shinning, gleaming, reflecting the snow flakes through the window; the watch, the beautiful watch with the gold band, the one I thought I'd never see again. I couldn't even stop looking at it.

Then he gave me a bear hug and asked, "Shimmy, were my pweshent?" I looked up at him, over to the broken pieces of his bank in the corner, the watch, then back at his questioning eyes, and I didn't even have the courage to look him in the eyes and tell him I'd forgotten him. I just grabbed him and started bawling like a baby.

He never lived to say "Happy New Year," he died two days later.
It was Christmas Eve again, snowing again too. I'd just gotten off the phone. The parents called to say Merry Christmas. I'm in college these days. I lay back down on my dorm bed with my arms folded behind me and started to stare at the only object hanging on my dorm wall: an old, homemade water colored, Christmas card. I checked the time on my watch--the one with the gold band, just a few moments until Christmas. I gazed up at the wall again and read the words aloud, "... whom I love the most."

Then, once again I could see his eyes and I could hear him say it again, "Wary Kwishmash, Shimmy." Only this time I had to answer back as loud as I could: "Merry Christmas Jerry, Merry Christmas."
Dedication: To all who have brothers.

I Miss the Little Boy inside of Me

I Miss the little Boy inside of me.
Inside of me and every body on the planet is a inner child, this child is the playful part of our self, the part of us that doesn’t care about all of the responsibilities of adult life.
I’ve lived 53 years on this planet and 29 years of that has been spent in the role of a parent, now I’m not a shinning example of parenting, but I’m much better today then I was 29 years ago. I tended to worry too much and I tended to take life too seriously. And I spent most of my children’s life at work, trying to make ends meet. Instead of spending time with my beautiful children exploring the vast possibilities of life, I went to work, and in my spare time I went to work again, to make ends meet.
If I had to do It all over again I would spend more time with my beautiful children exploring there sense of wonder , I would allow my children to teach me what was important. Things like building a Fort, or playing Tag, or red Light Green Light. I’d watch clouds, and spend some time taking in the beauty of a simple flower, or a butter fly or a dragon fly. I’d try to catch a fly with my bare hands, or watch some ants. Or just sit and adore the magnificence of my 5 Beautiful children. Now I’m not saying we didn’t do fun things as they grew up, but If I could do it over again, I would worry less and play more, I’d spend more time loving them and Less time at work. I would spend more time being a friend and less time being a parent. I would enjoy the magnificence of childhood, and not take life so damned serious.

Little Boy I Miss You ~ By James Cavanaugh
"Little boy I miss you with your sudden smile and your ignorance of pain. You walked through life and devoured it with nothing but misty goals to keep you company. You wandered through quiet woods with friends and you where startled by a shuffling porcupine. Your heart beat mightily when you chased frogs and caught one to big for a single hand. There was no time for meaning. A marshmallow gave it on a sharpened stick. A jack knife in your pocket gave you comfort when your friends were gone. A flower hidden in the woods, behind an aging shriveled log. A dog who licked at your fingers and chewed at your jeans. A game of football that you didn't expect, a glass of cider, a crickets cry. When did you lose your eyes and ears. When did taste buds cease to tremble. Whence the sublime-ness, this mounting fear, this quarrel with life, demanding meaning. That mounting fear is leisure's bonus and it's the pain that forbids you to be a boy."
In Peace and Love Charles Lyon