"Learning From Fido" (or, the real gurrrrus online)

Written by Larry Johnson

If dogs were teachers we would all learn a great deal about life, love, and work includingrepparttar internet.

I received a simple e-mail message from one of my online friends recently that pointed out some ofrepparttar 126266 traits of dogs which are positive. admirable, and worthy of imitation.

For example: Dogs always run to greet you when you come home and they are happy to see you. No questions about where you have been or why you were late. They are just very happy that you are home.

They are great at knowing when to take a nap or on warm days they know when to stop and lie back inrepparttar 126267 grass and relax.

One of our Poms that we had was good at reminding me when it was time for a break fromrepparttar 126268 computer by jumping up on my leg for some attention.

On hot days, they drink lots of water and find a nice shade tree to get under.

When they are happy, they just dance around and wag their entire bodies.

No matter how often they are scolded, they don't bear grudges...they just run right back and make friends.

Most dogs will avoid biting when a simple growl will do. ( Could this be applied to some people's over-reaction to spam messages ?)

Dogs like to run, romp and play daily, and yet they can find delight inrepparttar 126269 simple joy of a long walk with you.

Ah, Sweet Memories - Part One

Written by Dr. Barbara Becker Holstein

Finally! The colors ofrepparttar leaves are changing, and now all too quickly. As I walk around my neighborhood enjoyingrepparttar 126265 smells of autumn, combined withrepparttar 126266 reds, oranges and even maroons of some ofrepparttar 126267 leaves, I think once more of allrepparttar 126268 autumns that have come and gone.

Surely for me, it is a special season. How does my memory hold on to this time of year? It is partly by color, and certainly by memory traces of weather conditions. I particularly think of gray days where it doesn't rain, as well as crisp clear days of brilliant blue sky, when I feel cold but so fresh and clear headed. Some of my autumn memories are tied into Halloween. There were those giant paper bags that I dumped ontorepparttar 126269 living room rug as a six year old. It seemed like millions of candy bars came tumbling out. There were Hershey Bars, Three Musketeers, Kisses and Life-Savers that lasted six months, along with lollipops—even loose change—and of course apples. I had to come back and forth to my house three times asrepparttar 126270 bag got so full. There were no plastic bags in those days.

Then there wererepparttar 126271 high school football games in Norwalk. My father wasrepparttar 126272 Superintendent of Schools and liked to go to show support. I wanted to go to be popular and seerepparttar 126273 boys. Finally I was old enough to be invited to a game by a senior in high school. I thought I would die with joy. He was handsome and smart and I was only a freshman. We had a great time. I was nervous but still felt entranced. He put his arm around me as we walked. He knew everybody. When he dropped me home later I realized suddenly that my pants had a rip in them that was fairly large and noticeable. Now I really wanted to die!

Today I came across a wonderful story sent to me by a guest writer, Emily Doherty. She takes us in to her vivid memory bank, by color, by aroma, by setting and many other ways of delight. For example, Emily capturesrepparttar 126274 essence of color beautifully by letting us take a peek into her vivid childhood memories. We really get a chance to see how she has been able to hold on to memories and bring them back to life as truly enchanted moments.

These moments are what I call in my first book, THE ENCHANTED SELF, A Positive Therapy, 'Positive Fingerprints ofrepparttar 126275 Mind', unique to each of us. I hope that you enjoy her insight and joy as she recounts her unique way of connecting with enchantment. I also hope that you experience, as I did by reading her story, that you have a real sense of having been there with her. Even though we all experience life a little differently, there is a joy in sharing and connecting that happens when we make our story real. Emily has done that for all of us! Enjoy.

Please enjoy this short exercise below and stay with me next week for part two of this article where you will get to read Emily's beautiful story about color and enchantment.

Ponderings: What does color mean to you? Can you play with positive memories about color, or perhapsrepparttar 126276 feel of beautiful fabric? Orrepparttar 126277 aromas that goes with special occasions? Give yourself a momentary treat and retreat to some pleasant sensations!

For me right now, I'm rememberingrepparttar 126278 beautiful recital dress made out of lavender organdy that I danced in when I was six. It had ruffles and to this day I yearn for it. How I wish my mom had saved that little dress. There are lavender roses every year that arerepparttar 126279 exact shade. How happy I am when I see them.

I hope you treat yourself to a pleasant reverie and be blessed by some lovely way in which at least a part of it will come back or be reinvented in some way, asrepparttar 126280 roses took onrepparttar 126281 exact color for me!

Ah, Sweet Memories - Part Two By Dr. Barbara Becker Holstein

Thank you for staying with me. Last week I shared some colorful autumn stories of my childhood that were truly enchanted moments. This week I hope you will enjoy part two as Emily shares her beautiful story about color and enchantment with us. Enjoy!

Featuringrepparttar 126282 story Prism by guest writer, Emily Doherty

"Right brain ... left brain ..." dronedrepparttar 126283 speaker. I doodled idly in my already embellished notebook margins and mumbled "No brain!" under my breath. Surely a crayon or two might still lurk in a forgotten corner of this escapee mother's pocketbook. I nudged my friend for assistance, but all she could find was an old lipstick stub, too neutral for my purposes. Not even a smudgy red pen or a faded highlighter. I grinned conspiratorially in her direction as we recalled yesterday's 'there-goes-another-flower-child" glances of other tourists when they spiedrepparttar 126284 bunches of scarlet poppies waving comfortably from a free corner of my backpack.

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