FEAR IS

Fear is the killer of time.

Consume our precious memories.

Crush bright and happy thoughts.

It prevents us from living in the present, in the now.

It controls thoughts and ideas of what we contemplate for our future.

Fear prevents us from moving forward or escaping from what we have done in the past that we may not be proud of or wish to remember.

Fear prevents us from taking a step forward; a movement towards what we could do, when walking through that door would bring beneficial change and enlightenment.

Fear cheats us of our health: physically, mentally and emotionally.

It clouds our mind and our ability to think clearly.

Fear haunts our afternoons and our dreams. Break our night’s sleep.

Fear is as destructive and harmful as any disease, it sticks to us and can kill us.

When Fear approaches us, acknowledge it, but do not allow it to enter.

If it slips, how is it I will not do it do, expel fear. Pray. Empty your thoughts of anything negative and meditate on what brings you clarity, peace, tranquility and delight.

Each time you do this, as you learn to do it, it will become easier and more comforting, and then you can separate yourself from it.

When you release it:

THE FEAR IS… GONE

–Kathy Pippig

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MUSIC

Music may be a language considered more versatile than the spoken word or the written word.

Regardless of its ethnic or ancestral origins, music is understood by all who listen to or create it. The music is universal and does not need translation.

The languages ​​of music are the different genres. Dialects are the different styles and moods within each dialect.

With only seven notes, their respective sharps, flats and octaves, MUSIC: paint a pastoral scene. A tumultuous storm. Extract a moment of pure joy. She frees our minds from worries and moves our bodies to spin and dance, forgetting everything else except the enjoyment of the song.

Music was probably made, played, before man had the gift of speech.

The music imitates the song of a bird. The whisper of a stream. The wind swirling through the high, rugged mountains and the trees that line the riverbank. It resounds like a thunder storm. And whispers like spring blossoms descending on the breeze of a new summer towards green hills and mossy rocks.

Music is the echo of the beauty of the earth and the pulse of the Creator. Music is eternal. And magic…

–Kathy Pippig