mermaidcamp
Keeping current in wellness, in and out of the water
You can scroll the shelf using ← and → keys
You can scroll the shelf using ← and → keys
Privacy and free time are the only true luxury items, in my book. They will not arrive on their own and they will not stay if not managed with care. We all have a privacy policy, and it is not like the one you get from your doctor. We either announce to the world where we are and what we are doing or not. The other branch of privacy is availability. Each of us decides if we are available to be called or texted all day and night. We let people know how and when to reach us, and based on those parameters our privacy policy is established.
I love technology and enjoy many facets of the world wide web and the power it contains. I do not use GPS or smartphone. I do not want to be tagged and given a free beer when I am in the hood. I would rather retain the privacy. I do no use my cell phone at all except for travel and odd circumstances. I use Skype or my landline to make calls. I do not text or receive texts. There are some on my ancient cell phone, but I will never read them because they are from Virgin Mobile. Some of my friends think this practice is wildly eccentric, and I suppose it is in 2013. The reason I do not live my life connected to the internet or the phone is that I value my freedom and private life.
My filters and boundaries are clear to me, and obvious to others. I publish 2 blogs, one of which is now mostly art. I interact on various social media and in Triberr with a wide array of personalities and specialties. I am active and interactive all over the world in this way. I am a great navigator who does not use GPS because I think navigation is good for the soul. I could never imagine giving up the thrill of knowing where I am and trusting some voice who has no idea where I am. I had GPS given to me in a rental car once, and it sent us drastically out of our way. I did not even turn it on after that..how silly. I have the same phone number at my home that I have had for about 20 years. There is a message system that works, and I respond when I hear messages that are for me. I eliminate the spam and move on with life.
# is a symbol. It has meaning, and it conveys something like punctuation. It says, “This is digital, not linear, not even physical.” It says, “2013 is all about #.” Yet there are those who never use it and maybe do not grasp the power contained in the #. It is clearly and obviously a make-believe entity, the digital reality. If anthropologists of the future go through the twitter accounts of the most famous people in the 21st century to learn about our culture, they will be flabbergasted.
Knowing the code, from secret societies to Morse code has always been significant. Writing code to make the computer world exist is a skill, an art, and a secret to those who do not know how to do it. The dewey decimal system was the grandparent to the #. We no longer have a paper file at the library, and there is no need to go to a library to find reference materials. If we Google, Bing, or # we go straight to the stuff we seek. Hide and seek is not played outdoors, but in search. I have often expressed the opinion here that there is nothing evil about technology. There is a big question about the morality of those who have access to the best technology to act in the best interests of society.
There is no conspiracy to push wealth away from most people and into the pockets of those who have the most data and the fastest computers. The shift from placing value on material goods to mining information about people’s habits has been in play for a long time. The society has participated in this shift willingly, and now is starting to wonder where the path leads. I believe it takes the individual where they intend to go, much like telegraphs and libraries. The choice is wider, but the choice of how to use and misuse is still a personal issue. The broader society, however, is suffering from the concentration of wealth and power in too few #’s.
My 8th great-grandfather came from England to Virginia in the 1600’s. We don’t know much about him except that he arrived early in America. He was a large landowner and his wife inherited land from her brother as well. These early settlers in Virginia had plenty of obstacles to overcome to just survive.
Capt John Gregory born: 1623 in Stockwith, England died: 1676 Rappahannock County, Virginia Officer in the Colonial Militia. Emigrated to Virginia prior to 1656; settled on the north side of the James River in Charles County. 20 February 1663 had a grant of 600 acres in Rappahannock County. Vestryman in 1665.
Capt John Gregory(1623 – 1676)
is my 8th great-grandfather
Mary Gregory (1665 – 1747)
daughter of Capt John Gregory
John Taylor (1685 – 1776)
son of Mary Gregory
John Taylor (1727 – 1787)
son of John Taylor
John Taylor (1747 – 1781)
son of John Taylor
John Nimrod Taylor (1770 – 1816)
son of John Taylor
John Samuel Taylor (1798 – 1873)
son of John Nimrod Taylor
William Ellison Taylor (1839 – 1918)
son of John Samuel Taylor
George Harvey Taylor (1884 – 1941)
son of William Ellison Taylor
Ruby Lee Taylor (1922 – 2008)
daughter of George Harvey Taylor
Pamela Morse
I am the daughter of Ruby Lee Taylor
Nunta, the Cherokee goddess of the sun and health has power to bring healing or illness. Remedy is remembering in her world. Health emanates from the same source as pain. Adversaries carry strong medicine, and sometimes must be faced in order to be free of an affliction. Willingness to meet an adversary for the purpose of healing sounds like fairy tale of fear and loathing. The struggle is full of possible outcomes, including death. Intuitively our bodies know which ones of our patterns is the most harmful. Allowing an accumulation of foggy emotional distraction to cover the truth only leads to more complicated side effects. The enemy of your good health is denial. Nunta is the bright sunlight of awareness illuminating the medicine you need to remember.
Your personal happiness is unique and known only to you. Taking a big dose of your own medicine is a step towards wholeness and health.
While studying my tree I noticed that one of the branches had some discrepancies. The Sweet family of Rhode Island is a favorite of mine now that I have visited the state. Consulting family written documents, my suspicions were confirmed that I had the wrong Sweet in the wrong spot. I was sad because I had become attached to these people who would no longer be related to me, which itself is a ridiculous thought. Now I have spent time to repair the error, and with a bit of luck I did get back to the correct ancestor in just 3 generations. I had listed his brother John in this generation, an erroneous idea I found in other profiles on ancestry.com. Lucky for me, I do have family written references on this part of my fam. My new, revised 8th great grandfather is from a Sweet family of famous physicians known as the bonesetters. They carried on for generations in this capacity. I am now just as happy with the doctors as I was with the fancy politicians I gave up in the process. I have also been informed about Rhode Island history, which is fascinating.
James Sweet (1622 – 1695)
is my 8th great-grandfather
Benoni Sweet (1663 – 1751)
son of James Sweet
Dr. James Sweet (1686 – 1751)
son of Benoni Sweet
Thomas Sweet (1732 – 1813)
son of Dr. James Sweet
Thomas Sweet (1759 – 1844)
son of Thomas Sweet
Valentine Sweet (1791 – 1858)
son of Thomas Sweet
Sarah LaVina Sweet (1840 – 1923)
daughter of Valentine Sweet
Jason A Morse (1862 – 1932)
son of Sarah LaVina Sweet
Ernest Abner Morse (1890 – 1965)
son of Jason A Morse
Richard Arden Morse (1920 – 2004)
son of Ernest Abner Morse
Pamela Morse
I am the daughter of Richard Arden Morse
The second son of JOHN & MARY SWEET, James Sweet came with his parents to America in 1632. He worked at a grist mill with his step-father, Ezekiel Holliman. He was an inhabitant of Warwick in 1648, Commissioner in 1653/1658/1659, freeman in 1655, juryman in 1656 and lived at the estate of the late William Congdon at the foot of Ridge Hill. He married MARY GREENE, daughter of JOHN GREENE & JOANE (TATTERSOL) GREENE, about 1654 in Providence, RI. On Sept. 30, 1660, he sold to Thomas Greene, the lot he had received from the town of Warwick along with meadow land. Later, the family moved to Prudence Island in Portsmouth Twp. about four miles soutwest of Bristol in 1664 being one of the first families to live on the island from 1664 to about 1685. Several family members are buried in the old family burying ground in the center of the island.On November 8, 1686, he deeded his land in Providence that he had inherited from his father to eldlest son, Philip of Prudence Island. On the same date, he deeded to son, Benoni, certain land in Mashiantatack, and to son, James of Prudence Island, Valentine of Kingstown, and Samuel & Mary Sweet living with their parents, land in Mashiantatack. In 1695, James deposed and gave his age as 73. He died at age 93 years.All the “bone-setter” family lines originate with James Sweet and his wife, Mary, who learned the art of bone-setting from her surgeon father, JOHN GREENE. James Sweet & his brother, John Sweet were interpreters to the Indians for first settlers and their names can be found on early Indian deeds. James Sweet signed with his mark.
I am in a chat group with some people who have been to est training or the Landmark Forum, but I have not done that. I enjoy their point of view, but am amused by much of the jargon. Recently somebody in that group asked if others had alienated others with special transformational language. I had to laugh and think of what my own transformational groups and languages have been:
There are sub groups,but these are the majors. I have recently been united with my early childhood neighbors and school friends, one of whom went to summer camp with me. I have also gotten in touch with many old friends and neighbors who lived in San Tomé, Venezuela in the early 1960’s. This mostly bilingual group has a language and a culture that is unique. I am not in contact with any high school or college friends, but a small group with whom I worked in a theater company in Cherokee, NC in 1968 has been drawn together through social media. The hippies, spa bunnies, swimmers, and vegetarians all switch places and morph into the current culture. I know a few of each group from the past. I stay in touch with Swiss friends, although I have not visited for a few years now.
The language, slang, and meaning of these transformational groups imprint on us as individuals, and as a collective groupthink. We share memories that fit together like jigsaw puzzles. In the last month I have been amazed to learn some of the things my elementary classmates remember about me, and what I know about them. The past plays back like a very funny movie, missing lots of dialog and motive. What seemed insignificant is memorable, and what was important at the time has lost significance. We do have a thread of common language, and some common ideas. Although we may no longer be a group who hangs out in real life, we somehow are still transforming each other. Even learning about the death of some of our old comrades shakes the foundation of mortality, the ultimate transformation.
Simon Hirons was born in Delaware, which would later become part of Pennsylvania. I have his father’s name, but have not traced any more information about the parents. He moved to South Carolina, where he was married at age 19 in 1747. He and his wife, Grace Raiford, are buried at the Charleston First Baptist Church. The inscription on his grave says he died while attending a conference in Charleston.
Simon Hirons (1728 – 1778)
is my 5th great grandfather
Sarah Hirons (1751 – 1817)
daughter of Simon Hirons
John Nimrod Taylor (1770 – 1816)
son of Sarah Hirons
John Samuel Taylor (1798 – 1873)
son of John Nimrod Taylor
William Ellison Taylor (1839 – 1918)
son of John Samuel Taylor
George Harvey Taylor (1884 – 1941)
son of William Ellison Taylor
Ruby Lee Taylor (1922 – 2008)
daughter of George Harvey Taylor
Pamela Morse
I am the daughter of Ruby Lee Taylor
Milagro means miracle, and it also means a specific symbol used to make an offering. Offerings have meaning in the context in which they were made. Churches around the world have tokens left in hope, remembrance, or gratitude. In Ted DeGrazia’s Virgin of Guadalupe chapel people have left these symbols for many years. The oldest chapel I have seen like this has many offerings from sailors that include hats. It is in Cap D’Antibes, France. The chapel of Notre Dame de Garoupe is enchanting as well as historic. In Tucson we also have shrines known as El Tiradito and the Virgin shrine at San Javier del Bac Mission:
An offering can be made in nature, in a chapel, or in a garden. Altars exist in every form. The meaning is in the heart of the person making the offering. Milagros express hope, faith, and dedication. They tell the history of people’s aspirations, tragedies, and triumphs. The spirit of the place is reflected in the objects left on the altar. The altar assumes a collective consciousness by making space for all the offerings and their symbolic powers. It becomes an archive of religion.
During the Civil War Thomas Armer was conscripted to serve in the Iron Works at Shelby, Alabama to make arms for the Confederacy. After the war his entire family moved to Texas with Lucinda Jane and her husband, William Taylor, a veteran who was wounded in the war. His widow applied for a Confederate pension, just as her daughter, Lucinda, did. The state of Texas granted both widows pensions to help them survive at the end of their lives. Thomas donated the land for the cemetery where they are now buried.
Thomas Armer (1825 – 1900)
is my 2nd great grandfather
Lucinda Jane Armer (1847 – 1939)
daughter of Thomas Armer
George Harvey Taylor (1884 – 1941)
son of Lucinda Jane Armer
Ruby Lee Taylor (1922 – 2008)
daughter of George Harvey Taylor
Pamela Morse
I am the daughter of Ruby Lee Taylor
The reunification of opposites in alchemy is called Coniunctio Oppositorum. The material is separated in the distillation process. In the collective consciousness imagery and music exist as powerful actors. The opposites can be soul and spirit, Republican and Democrat, or just black and white. Our individual dreams and psyches are influenced by all the opposites in the universe. It is an act of magic to distill your thoughts and ethical boundaries. It is an act of wisdom to recognize that we are each as magical as the other.