HealthyEnergy

02/19/2026

This came up in men's group tonight. Thought it was worth sharing

https://www.facebook.com/share/18KMDZquST/

It's labour day, and the year is 2021. I've just finished the book that discussed the merging of Science and the spirtuals. The book is called "Dancing with Wu Li masters " by Gary zukav. It discussed how the two paradigms of Quantum mechanics and Spirituality are merging. An incredibly deep and profound book.

I needed another book, hopefully of the same stature, so my day ended up at my favorite second hand book store-Deseret Industry's, or D.I. as the locals call it. Here I found a facinating book called "Woman". Being someone who jokes about how little I know about the subject , it caught my eye. What also caught my eye was that it was written entirely by men, but not just any men, LDS men. Yes, all the leaders or the Morman church- all men. 15 men with titles such as the Prophet. Elder, general authorities and the like.

Honestly, I'm stunned to the core of my being. I'm well aware of the pretend organizations called church mascarading as God's mouthpiece. (She doesn't need one, and especially from a bunch of misogynists, btw.)

Weve seen recently what dangerous men can do- the same men who think they have the right to control women's reproductive choices.

Argh !! And, to blatantly advertise your misogyny by the list of male authors on the front cover on a book about women disgusts me to my core. This book was written in the 1980s , but that is no excuse.

Again, I am driven to apologize to women on behalf of these ignorant men. I'm so sorry, and beg your forgiveness. May we rise up and do better, and soon.

Martin of the stream.

Here's a picture of the same book just case you ever want to order a copy.

02/19/2026

This book came up in men's group tonight. Are we past this, yet?

It's labour day, and the year is 2021. I've just finished the book that discussed the merging of Science and the spirtuals. The book is called "Dancing with Wu Li masters " by Gary zukav. It discussed how the two paradigms of Quantum mechanics and Spirituality are merging. An incredibly deep and profound book.

I needed another book, hopefully of the same stature, so my day ended up at my favorite second hand book store-Deseret Industry's, or D.I. as the locals call it. Here I found a facinating book called "Woman". Being someone who jokes about how little I know about the subject , it caught my eye. What also caught my eye was that it was written entirely by men, but not just any men, LDS men. Yes, all the leaders or the Morman church- all men. 15 men with titles such as the Prophet. Elder, general authorities and the like.

Honestly, I'm stunned to the core of my being. I'm well aware of the pretend organizations called church mascarading as God's mouthpiece. (She doesn't need one, and especially from a bunch of misogynists, btw.)

Weve seen recently what dangerous men can do- the same men who think they have the right to control women's reproductive choices.

Argh !! And, to blatantly advertise your misogyny by the list of male authors on the front cover on a book about women disgusts me to my core. This book was written in the 1980s , but that is no excuse.

Again, I am driven to apologize to women on behalf of these ignorant men. I'm so sorry, and beg your forgiveness. May we rise up and do better, and soon.

Martin of the stream.

Here's a picture of the same book just case you ever want to order a copy.

06/17/2025

I have kept up with a good friend, Jill - not her real name - over the years, lauging , crying skiing and having lunch. Over lunch today, I sat across from Jill whose stories tumbled out with the same wild energy as her two cats, who’ve apparently taken a liking to chewing holes in her favorite clothes. Between bites of salad and bursts of laughter, we bounced from the absurdity of feline fashion sabotage to the delicate politics of high heels and work attire. Before I knew it, the conversation had taken a sharp turn toward my love life, and suddenly I was the one being dissected—gently, curiously, as only Jill could manage.

One of the most useful things Jill and I have done together to deepen not just our friendship, but also how we relate to others in our intimate circles, is spend time studying Getting to Zero by Jason Gaddis. It’s been a kind of shared compass, helping us navigate emotional tension and miscommunication with more honesty—and fewer apologies for being human.

Today, Jill threw down a challenge: not stay silent in one of my closest relationships—not to shut down, but to truly listen. When I tried to wiggle out of it with my usual arsenal of well-rehearsed justifications, she wasn’t having it. Her silence in response said more than words, and I felt the lesson land.

The topic that really got me thinking today came when we found ourselves circling the question: Does AI in one-on-one communication make us inauthentic? I argued yes—absolutely. To me, there’s something inherently dissonant about outsourcing intimacy, even in the form of convenience.

Jill pushed back, saying AI could actually enhance relationships by freeing us to focus on emotional presence rather than logistics.

I brought up the "AI secretaries" at work—those bots that summarize our Zoom calls with clients. I had read through one recently and felt nothing but detachment. It had neatly packaged an hour-long human exchange into bland bullet points, but stripped of tone, nuance, and human presence, the summary felt hollow. Worse, it felt unbelievable. Like a ghost story told by someone who had never seen a ghost

Let me know what u think or AI, or even an experience you've had.

02/11/2025

02/11/2025

I'm all out of love
I'm so lost without you
I know you were right
Believing for so long

01/06/2025

My dad died on December 7th, a Saturday morning. He'd asked mom to walk him to the bathroom because he was a bit giddy after breakfast. When they arrived , he lurched forward, and died of a massive heart attack. Being a nurse, mom did all she could to bring him back, but couldn't.

Heres my eulogy to him.

Eulogy to dad:

One of my favorite memories with dad was as a child, when we would go on a supply run between the Ukarumpa mission compound and the village, where my parents taught the tribe how to read and write in their own language.

Packing the blue and white Land Cruiser with supplies and cramming myself into the front seat next to him, the two of us would take on the day-long adventure, listening along to Fiddler on the Roof and Day-O on the 8-track player while traversing the challenging rugged trail back to the village. That time with just the two of us was special to me.

In 1995, I returned to the village and was met as one of their own, with rejoicing and open arms.

It had been a while since I had last been there, and it took some time to remember the language well enough to communicate in it again, but nearing the end of my visit, I traveled further up into the highlands to visit the tribe.

While there, I met an old man who claimed he'd known my dad as a young man. We both were transported as we reminisced about those times. At the end, he paused, took a long breath, and asked me, in the language, if my dad was "yal dimani " yet? I was puzzled, as we’d already discussed how many calendar years I'd been gone, but I'd translated wrong.

The first word in the phrase means man, and the second phrase was curious because it was a type of tree. A tree that knew how to ward off mites, termites, and rot. It knew, if you like, fact from fiction. It knew how to grow into truth. In effect , it meant,

“Has your father moved on? Has he become like the tree: strong, wise, and hardy beyond our understanding and capability?”

Dad, as you now travel in that “beyond” place we cannot comprehend, I hope you continue to grow strong in the truth, with a wise and hardy spirit that will never succumb to the termites and rot of untruth.

Martin of the Stream

12/10/2024

Eulogy to dad:

One of my favorite memories with dad was as a child, when we would go on a supply run between the Ukarumpa mission compound and the village, where my parents taught the tribe how to read and write in their own language.

Packing the blue and white Land Cruiser with supplies and cramming myself into the front seat next to him, the two of us would take on the day-long adventure, listening along to Fiddler on the Roof and Day-O on the 8-track player while traversing the challenging rugged trail back to the village. That time with just the two of us was special to me.

In 1995, I returned to the village and was met as one of their own, with rejoicing and open arms.

It had been a while since I had last been there, and it took some time to remember the language well enough to communicate in it again, but nearing the end of my visit, I traveled further up into the highlands to visit the tribe.

While there, I met an old man who claimed he'd known my dad as a young man. We both were transported as we reminisced about those times. At the end, he paused, took a long breath, and asked me, in the language, if my dad was "yal dimani " yet? I was puzzled, as we’d already discussed how many calendar years I'd been gone, but I'd translated wrong.

The first word in the phrase means man, and the second phrase was curious because it was a type of tree. A tree that knew how to ward off mites, termites, and rot. It knew, if you like, fact from fiction. It knew how to grow into truth. In effect , it meant,

“Has your father moved on? Has he become like the tree: strong, wise, and hardy beyond our understanding and capability?”

Dad, as you now travel in that “beyond” place we cannot comprehend, I hope you continue to grow strong in the truth, with a wise and hardy spirit that will never succumb to the termites and rot of untruth.

Martin of the Stream

10/11/2024

I wrote this almost 2 years ago. This year I start my third year as an instructor, where I intend to attend a two day intensive course to gain an international certification in ski instructing. What a wonderful journey i started two years ago. It was as daring as it waa naive , but the learning has been incredibly satisfying. I've learnt so many emotional things, increased my skiing prowes and healed so much of me by daring to do this.

*************
I've just finished four days of intensive “Train the Trainer”training at Deer Valley - a posh ski resort here in Utah.

Throughout the four days, we were asked to do what I could only describe as oxymoronic. We were asked to push our bodies, and our skiing skills while simultaneously being encouraged to stay - or rather get - in touch with our inner child and have fun.

Fun? There were moments of fun, but then there were moments pure joy when I overcame deep fears within myself: feelings of unworthiness, or shame, and low self-esteem. All because deep down I didn’t feel I deserved a job that feels glamorous, and outdoorsy, and fun.

I was able to get in touch with a lot of this as I was challenged each day by my instructor to do better - to strive to be my very best - and when I felt I had, she pushed me some more. Then, as I practiced my practicum in front of her, she encouraged me to be playful, and use imaginative play, because that's how to be the best ski teacher for 3-6 year olds.

So, while I got better as an adult skier, I also got in touch with my inner child. It actually ended up being a truly spiritual four days for me, even if that was not my instructor’s primary intention. (Secretly I feel it was, but she couldn't be overt about it.)

02/15/2024

I connected with Jacinta, my daughter (26) in a really beautiful way in the last few months. I just happened to send her some pictures of a childhood album on through Facebook messaging. So, she wanted the whole book, but that book was of the other kids, too . I then found an album just of her. So, after some discussion with her, I paid for a professional copy of the first pictures I showed her and then sent a package with the newly made book and the old album. I then remembered my vow to myself ten years ago. That I'd keep the memories of the kids as they grew up here. I was overwhelmed with emotions with those memories cause I'd kept my vow for jacinta.

When the mother took my children in 2013 across continents without my permission it was obvious she just wanted them to just forget their time here in the states.

10/06/2023

I took a trip back to my tribe in Papua New guinea in 1995. While there I learnt that love was expressed from the gut, not heart. I was also asked by an old warrior if my Dad was "Yal Dimani" yet, as in was he old, or so I thought. The same word can also be used for Wise, and hardy.

My white mans mind postulated, before I replied, that he should know how old my dad was based on how long we'd been gone, which I calculated as 18 years. Noticing the old man had no watch, or a calendar, I realized he wasn't asking me to calculate how many times we'd been around the sun since he'd left. It was more a question about how old his soul was, or how much had he learnt, or evolved, or matured since he saw him last.

This lesson also speaks to our concept of time, and its' passage. Some would also say time is an illusion, too. Its a wonderful journey to be discovering just what time is, or isn't.

06/20/2023

Here's my story of my Divorce, loosing ny kids, and getting them back. well, part of it. I'll write more some other day.

We were having marriage trouble in 2012/13. I was living downstairs, she was upstairs, and I was heavily involved in soccer coaching all three kids, ranging from freshmen in high school to primary school . We live in the states, but are Australian nationals, and she told me she wanted to take the kids to Australia for a month in the summer break. I felt it might help having a break from each other, despite 3 friends warning me she'd abduct the kids so I let it happen, thinking she'd never do that as her mother had taken her from her dad in the same way..

She did. I got a letter 4 weeks into her trip, ten years ago, coldly saying she'd take the kids, and I can visit them if I want.

She refused to help with the house payments for the next three years, but insisted, regardless, I pay her full child support. But, of course expected to get half when we divorced.

She terrified all three kids by sitting them Down with her mother, while they were basically in a foreign country , and telling them their dad was a sick man. This is the same dad they'd had coaching them 3 nights a week, weeks earlier. My daughter took it the worst and has disowned me for years at a time over the last ten years.

Why am I telling you all this? Because, there is hope. My daughter has been in daily contact on Facebook for a year now, and has mentioned coming home to visit. My other son too. My oldest son lives with me, and we rebuild old Saabs together .

It has felt utterly hopless over the last ten years, but it's true all things change, and there is hope. Love u all.

My only tip for you all. Don't expect your kids to understand how they were manipulated . If they come back to you, don't ask to explain yourself. Accept them, as they are, and only explain if they ask what happened. That's what worked with my daughter anyways.

05/21/2023

Ive been in a discussion with my higher self all year about the epidemic of homelessness we are experiencing here on the states, and elsewhere. If you believe Fox news it's only in democratic states such as California, and the like. Their news will often show tent cities in the inner city parks of Las Angeles, and San Francisco.

Anyhow, I digress, as my main point is my prayers, for most of this year, have been focused around the root cause of homelessness and how I can I help. Well, it has been said, be careful what you wish for because this week I got them answered. But, as is the universe's way, the answer had a twist in it. Here the way it was answered:

My week consisted of putting a friend up in my house, who'd recently become homeless. Sadly, she kept disappearing at weird hours of the night and wouldn't tell us where she was going. Then, the last straw was her asking to use our licenses to borrow a computer from the library. This was after me offering my personal Mac PC to apply for jobs as long as she didn't move it from my office. So, I asked her to leave and drove her to the homeless center for women.

It was heartbreaking to see how she couldn't even see herself getting help and/or help me help herself. A prayer answered , as u can see, but with bit if a twist .