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A young man stood in a Metro station in Washington DC on a January morning and started to play his violin.  He played Bach and Massenet and Schubert for over 45 minutes. When he stopped playing, beyond one kind woman, no one turned.  In fact, no one even noticed, or clapped hands or shared a final...
Dear Child of Mine, I haven’t always been honest with you.  Now, I don’t mean to say that I’ve been dishonest.  It’s just that I haven’t always told you the truth. Not really. I’ve allowed matters of time and space and circumstance to dilute the truth - to minimize it, to obscure it, to camouflage...
  Cut Clean –Don’t Be Mean! Oh, to dance the Dance upon life’s cutting edge, that most precarious, yet enticing ledge. From there we can see how things come to be and how subtle slips can slice them to shreds.   Dance! My eternal quest will be learning to dance, an ever more beautiful dance, upon...
          These poems by UIL member John Brooks were incorporated into the Aptil 29, 2018 service titled “The Infinite Nature of You”.   * * * Fish or bird, two-legged or four, we are all flying                              through space, swimming in the Divine Mind together   AWAKENING TO...
Myrtle and Charles Fillmore were married in 1881 and settled in Kansas City in 1885 with two young sons. In Myrtle’s words, “I had all the ills of mind and body that I could bear.  Medicine and doctors ceased to give me relief and I was in despair.  Along with tuberculosis trouble in my lungs, I...

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