“The universe is made of stories, not atoms.”
                                                                                       Muriel Rukeysaer

It is hard to believe it has already been four years. I like to thank every one of you who have given me the courage to continue writing by your support, sharing your  reflections and words of wisdom. Many times, I felt I didn’t have the time and energy to continue the weekly posts, thinking of letting it go. Then, a view from a new country or a thoughtful and heartwarming reflection showed up as if the universe was giving me a sign to continue.

Every morning, I check the blog and read your comments makes me feel as if we have visited in a meaningful way across the planet. In this time and era of violence, hatred, suffering, and division, the power of the written word and reading an inspiring story to reconnect us is needed more than ever before. The art of story telling has been soothing to the soul not only for the children, but for everyone. I wonder if you have read a story that changed you in some way and you would always remember it. This is the time we need awareness and raising our consciousness, bringing hope to humanity. Together, we can light many candles and every candle counts. As Mother Theresa beautifully said, it may take a lifetime to create something and a moment to destroy it.

Today, our blog has had over 72,500 views from 120 countries. The latest ones were from Rwanda, Democratic Republic of Congo and Qatar to name a few. We now have many stories translated into 12 languages. The last additions were in Portuguese and Hebrew. A heartfelt thanks to all friends, many I have not met in person yet, who shared their gifts/time and passion to bring the healing message to readers around the globe.
Also, a collection of stories called Kaleidoscope is on Amazon if you wish to hold a book to read as I do or share with those who may not have access to internet in  far away place.

I have been blessed to know many gifted writers/poets. This year, I like to share some of their writings with you and bring more flavor to the blog, love to have your reflection. If you have written or know of an inspiring story, please leave me a note and we will share it with others.

What we feel, think, say and do manifest our inner intention. Together, let’s bring joy and harmony to our beautiful planet through the healing power of story telling. As you know, I am the grandmother of two precious grandsons. I am more aware than ever before about the importance of creating peace and compassion for all on our planet. As Dalai Lama wisely said, if ALL children of the world under the age of five meditate for one hour once a week on compassion, the violence will disappear….

Imagine that….

Inner peace will open the possibility of outer peace.

With love,


Thank you, muchas gracias, merci beaucoup, danke shoen, grazie mille, shay shay, arrigato, obrigado, shokran, chokh mamnoon, & moteshakeram ( Farsi)

Election values, Part II


“Dad, I was thinking about my attraction to Trump as a candidate. Can we continue our conversation?”

“Of course son. What do you have in mind?”

“Well, he is a man of action. I like that. He is a successful businessman that has built a rich empire. Maybe he will be able to run the government more efficiently and stop reckless spending like supporting so many  dependent on government for life.

“What do you think is the job of government?”

“To protect and take care of its citizens of course.”

All of its citizens including those who may have physical, emotional or mental challenges, the vulnerable, the children, the elderly, and many others.”

“Yes, but there are many illegal immigrants who come to the U.S., do not contribute to the “pot”, and use all the resources. We work hard and others use the services. It is not fair. Trump will stop that!”

“I see your point. I guess it depends on how we view our relationship with others. Some suggest that we are all connected, coming from the same source. The division made in humanity, creating lines and borders on our planet, is man-made!”

“What do you mean? We are Americans! We are not responsible to take care of others!”

“How does it FEEL for you seeing the image of hungry children on TV?”

“It makes me feel sick to my stomach! I wish I could stop their suffering!”

“I feel the same. Let’s imagine we have much more food than we need in our home and we know our next door neighbors for whatever reason have financial issues and their children are hungry. What would you do?”

“Of course I would take them some food. What kind of a question is that? There are millions of hungry people in the world. We cannot continue feeding them forever!”

“I know you are a loving and kind person. I know you would do anything you can to take care of your loved ones. You know I actually wonder if your desire to be wealthy comes from your heart longing to help other.”

“Of course it is. When I have money, there is so much I can do, makes life more joyful for others.”

“I hear you wishing to be of service to others, affirming that we are all connected. The intention makes a difference. How would you like to be of service?”

“I like to provide an opportunity for everyone to do what they can. I don’t want to take care of someone who is not willing to do anything! You know what I mean?”

“Yes, I think I do. Everyone can be of service in some way regardless of their challenges. Wouldn’t be great to have an assessment center with tools that could examine every person’s ability, passion, talent, and connect them with the appropriate source. Everyone can do something.”

The young man was excited as if there was a light of insight in his mind. Something meaningful, may be his “calling” in life. His energy shifted. He sat at the edge of his chair as he was seeing a dream emerging.

“Dad. You know Stephen Hawkins, right? His brain is amazing while his body is paralyzed. Yes, perhaps I will join an assessment center to see what they have, get familiar and then have my own ideas as how to empower people to be of service rather than foster dependency.”

“Yes, it is like the saying when you see  hungry people, don’t give them fish, teach them how to fish.”

“Exactly dad, I am going on the internet to do some research. Can we chat later on?”

” By the way son, I know you think our country is beautiful. It has become beautiful by the work of many immigrants who work from sunrise to sunset.”

“That is true.” the son left the room pondering. Dad was smiling.

A Memorable Moment


“Come to the hospital now. I will examine you and will let you know.” My doctor told me.

It was a beautiful summer day. My parents were visiting us. I was nine months pregnant. My due date was in a week. We had planned a large gathering for our anniversary on July 14. I noticed mild contractions; had no idea if they were labor pain. I called my doctor and she was in the hospital, suggesting to see me. The contractions were every five minutes.

I thought we were going for a checkup, didn’t even take the baby’s bag. On the way to the hospital there was a river of thoughts going through my mind. My husband and I took parenting responsibilities seriously. We had planned to complete our education, have reliable jobs, home, financial security and most importantly being ready to raise a child, the most sacred job in human experience.

In our culture, many Iranian families expect a baby within a year when a young couple gets married. We had been married for seven years doing graduate work in the U.S.

Now, back in Tehran, family members were making remarks, perhaps thinking we were unable to conceive.

I thought having a baby means I won’t be able to work. I was teaching Psychology at the university, my first job post-graduation; wished to establish myself before becoming a mother. I had worked hard for 30 years to have my dream job. My beloved mother in law promised to take care of our baby, allowing me to work.

We thought we had planned adequately. It was time if we wanted to have children. When I was two months pregnant, the Islamic revolution started and life changed drastically for everyone. My whole pregnancy was during the major historical change; the 3000 years of monarchy was about to end in Iran.

On the way to the hospital, I was thinking about our baby who was about to enter the physical life. At the time, there were no ultrasound to determine the sex of the baby.  I was wondering how the life of this precious child will be.

He was a child of the revolution, I thought to myself. This baby must have been an advanced soul choosing to come at this time. While my ego was creating fear about all the challenges we were facing, my higher self was focusing on the miracle of creating life within.

My doctor examined me and  immediately directed me to get ready and prepare for the childbirth.

I was shocked expecting her to tell me to go home until the due date. There was no time to think. Soon the contractions became stronger and closer in time. I was doing deep breathing, declined all pain relief options. I had seen women screaming during childbirth. For me this was a divine experience of my life, no screams, deep breathing.

When I held our son in my arms, I experienced a deep love I never could imagine. To me, he was the manifestation of a miracle in life. He was the most precious being I had ever seen with big beautiful brown eyes. No words can possibly express my inner feeling in that moment of holding him for the first time. With the first breast feeding, the bonding was beyond physical world, it was the deepest soul connection of highest level. I knew my life was changed forever for better. Our son was born on July 12th at 4 p.m.; thus the anniversary gathering was cancelled and my life as a mother begun. He became a source of inspiration and a divine teacher for me since then.

Our son became a father in October 2015. Now, watching him being a loving father to their son triggers memories of 37 years ago. He is the most loving and involved father I have ever seen. My heart smiles seeing him how he looks at their son. Now, he knows my feelings for him.


HAPPY 37th birthday Omid joon