FOLLOWING PURPLE RAIN.....WILL BE PURPLE RAYS OF LIGHT

A series of essays.....

LAVENDER KISSED BY PURPLE RAYS OF LIGHT

.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

I believe that after the Purple Rain falls and saturates the earth, the Purple Rays of the Sun will shine down upon all of us creating beauty and a glorious light!

After taking this photo in the early evening hours this past Sunday, I began to realize how much the color purple truly affects my life.

Just as the dampness can begin to affect your health or, your attitude can affect how successful you are, your perception of happiness can be attributed to the appropriate balance between color and light.

"For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. You receive from the world what you give to the world." ....Gary Zukav, "The Seat of the Soul." The Artist, Prince, has given us so much to think about, not only during his lifetime but, especially, now that he has left us behind to pick up the pieces and make sense from where there is none; to give back hope to those who may have lost it long ago. Sighting examples of how many of us reacted to the loss of Prince this past week may offer some insight as to how his actions have affected us personally for years.

A consummate, self-made musical magician, Prince.......but, those of us who loved and appreciated his talents already know this amazing story. We've probably watched his movie "Purple Rain" more times than we care to admit. And now, after we've lost his physical presence in this world, we slowly begin to understand what a powerful impact that presence had on so many of us. "You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone."

His talent for loving and giving back to those in need makes him a hero in my eyes. Because he was not a prideful man, he preferred to keep a low profile within his personal life. He tried to make the world a better place in small, quiet ways. Now that the purple dazzle behind his secrecy and positive intentions towards mankind is slowly being revealed, we begin to see how his legacy will be one of giving, loving, and generating hope for mankind. 

And, as I speak of heroes, the color purple has represented the highest admiration and respect we give our military heroes and is tastefully noted in the Medal of Honor called the Purple Heart. This esteemed military decoration of merit is awarded to members of the United States Armed Forces for wounds incurred or upon their death while serving to protect our country.

After taking the picture of sweet lavender touched by a purple sun, I wanted to reflect on this royal color; a 'princely' color intermediate between red and blue, worn by and associated with an emperor or senior magistrate in ancient Rome or Byzantium. I wanted to better understand why I enjoy seeing this color so much and seek it out whenever possible.

Could my desire for this color coincide with it lavishing the bedroom walls and wardrobes of so many 'little princesses' (granddaughter included)? I'm certain it does. There is something youthful and optimistic about the various shades of purple that young girls (actually, girls of any age) can identify with.

Purple is passionate. Purple is strong. Purple can be softened or toned down with the addition of white or with bright light reflecting off of it. This shade called 'lavender' evokes the lavender fields of southern France with its serpentine rows of aromatic flowers marching along an undulating path stretching into infinity. How I long to run between those rows on a warm, sunny day in late June and capture the unique essence of Provençal dreaming.

The usual liturgical color of Advent, celebrating the anticipation of the Second Coming of Christ, is either violet or purple. This color, representing hope, is often used for wall hangings around the church, the vestments of the clergy, and decorates the tabernacle, an ornamental cabinet on the altar that holds the bread and wine that symbolizes the body and blood of Jesus Christ.

Can you hear colors and see sounds?

There is a neurological condition called synesthesia in which two or more of the senses entwine. Numbers and letters, sensations and emotions, days and months are all associated with colors. To a certain degree, we all have been touched by this condition in that certain colors elicit sensations within us all of the time. Colors, music, and words can summon powerful memories and emotions from our past and arouse pity, raise a smile, or educe sympathy.

The color purple will always remind me of Prince, The Artist. We will hear one of his songs later in our life and it will be like.......BOOM!!, right back at being eighteen, twenty-six, or thirty again. His death will serve to make us mourn the loss of our own youth.

Since the passing of Prince, the evening skies appear more lavender. The purple rays of the sun pierce my existence offering more energy while saturating my world with its ornate visual of beauty and light! More of us seek out the pure power of this extraordinary color in all of its various shades: amethyst, aubergine, claret, heather, indigo, lilac, pansy, periwinkle, and violet....to name a few.

We should be grateful that Prince's music continues to soundtrack every important moment of our life. My wish is that the power of the color purple will serve as a reminder of hope and will provide an effective beacon of light that will guide all of us into a brighter, stronger future.

Prince, your energy will be missed......but never forgotten!





Copyright © 2016 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

FRIENDSHIP

A series of essays.....

THE ATLANTIC COASTLINE AT CAPE CANAVERAL 

.....as seen through my eyes!



By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


Within our lifetime, may we all be fortunate enough to experience at least one, true friendship. One other living, breathing soul who is willing to walk down the path of life with us on bright sunny days, as well as those dark and sinister ones where flashes of lightening crackle and ravage a darkening sky! If we are lucky, even intermittent friendships will dot our lives with their bright spots of joy. Because who doesn't feel the need to share our experiences, emotions, the highs and the lows, with a listening ear who will greet us with a gentle hug or the clasp of a warm hand when needed?

Dependence is an acquired condition that conjures up the notion of being vulnerable. We feel uncomfortable believing in the absolute certainty of the trustworthiness of another. True friendship can open up our hearts to securing the belief, confidence, faith, reliance, and trust in another human being. Knowing that someone 'has our back' helps to relieve the anxiety of potential emotional injury.

Only a fool would speculate about the life of a woman. Only a fool....or, another woman. Women earn that right and with good reason: we care deeply. Often too deeply and that's exactly what can get us into trouble. Many women are capable of intuitively understanding the residual feelings of others: The lingering aftermath of a bad relationship, the sometimes hurtful words of a close relative, or aiding someone who is lost in a world they believe is filled with hate or fear and needs help finding their way back into the light. These are a few of the attributes of being a friend. Who knows, someday the tables may be turned and you will require the friendship needed to pull you out of the doldrums and calamities associated with....living!

Fortunately, for me, a friendship that sustained two young women back in the days of cheerleading tryouts, acne remedies, prom dates, and acting 'happy-crazy' on a road trip to Boston and up through Canada one summer between our sophomore and junior year of college, has resurfaced after all this time. I couldn't be more happy or more grateful.

Having Janis back in my life is comparable to recently locating my twin sister years after being adopted separately as toddlers. We enjoyed just enough time together only to be scattered in different directions by time, place, and family. All of the chapters contained within our imagined autobiographies...graciously written with love, husbands, and children in mind, would contain pieces of our heart and soul and serve to form the women we have become today.

I will be the first to admit that I am, usually, on the giving end of the spectrum of friendship in that my shoulder has often been used to cry on. And, it has been dampened by tears of sadness, as well as joy throughout the years. A good friend once nicknamed me her "Rock" for the support and kindness given her throughout a very bad relationship.

Being a good friend often requires being a good listener. Listening carefully to someone in need might just be one of the most magnanimous traits anyone could possess in a lifetime.

However, being a 'Rock' certainly has its downside because rocks never get to cry. A rock foundation is one of permanence and strength supporting the heavy load that rests upon it. A person who is similar to or suggestive of a mass of stone in stability, firmness, or dependability. Well, that's quite a lot to live up to.

With age, wisdom tends to seep through the fine cracks of even the most solid foundations....in the form of tears and the realization that sharing the burdens of life with others can be a luxurious comfort and tremendous consolation over time.

I am learning day by day. While my shoulders begin to sag a bit with each passing year, and the 'rock' begins to gradually shift as the sands of 'wear and time' blow mightily across the Florida beaches I hold so dear, the winds of change continue to intensify.

I have always considered myself fortunate in this life......with many good friends and wonderful people I have met and learned from. I will always attempt to 'give back' for all of the positive friendships I've collected throughout the years. Janis, naturally, being a prime example of my "good life." And, I'm raising a pint in honor of all of you amazing souls I have yet to share a portion of my life with in the future. Here's to good things to come.

In most of the spiritual teachings I've gathered and responded to these past several years, remembering that life is about the experience might be the most profound lesson yet. "Life is not a lesson to be learned but an experience to be had, shared, and appreciated with the ones we love. We, too often, like to remind our children that there will be tough lessons to be learned in life, which can in itself, be a defeating attitude. When we can look at life from growth by experience, it lightens the severity of any situation, and allows for a more free flowing transition through each stage of their growth."  .....Spiritual Wisdom by Spirit Science

Jill Blakeway, author, acupuncturist, and spiritual healer once said, "Real friends don't walk away when life gets tough. They make a pot of tea and pull up a chair." Dear friend, may I have a little honey and lemon with my tea, please?


Copyright © 2016 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

"GREEN FIELDS OF FRANCE"

A series of essays.....

.....as seen through my eyes!





By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

We are sitting in the cozy hearth room at the Craggy Isle B&B, once again, listening to that beautiful voice with its Irish lilt and deep sadness rolled-up into one extraordinary man by the name of Adrian O'Connor. Adrian is speaking about his beloved father as a tear glistens in the corner of his eye and trails its way over the wrinkles of time, the deep creases of sorrow.....

I blink and am projected back into my own world with its flat screen television and comfortable leather couch. Dan and I have been watching the Public Broadcasting documentary entitled, "1916 Irish Rebellion," narrated by Liam Neeson, a true son of Ballymena, County Antrim in Northern Ireland.

One hundred years ago the "Great War," World War I, the war to end all wars, was in full swing and Irish men of all ages were fighting for their Motherland, Great Britain. At the same time, many Irish men and women remained at home in Ireland to fight the War of Independence to free themselves of British rule. As Irish blood spilled upon the green fields of France, Irish blood was, in turn, covering the cobblestone streets of Dublin. It was Easter, 1916.   




           DECLARATION OF IRISH INDEPENDENCE 
              BEGINNING OF THE EASTER RISING



The shots rang out as the Irish militia, unorganized yet determined, occupied several strategic strongholds within Dublin City, with the Post Office Building on O'Connell Street centralizing the small army within the city proper. Within days, being strongly overrun by British soldiers and watching their own Dublin civilians become collateral damage for the cause, the Irish leaders surrender.

Patrick Pearse, James Connolly, Tom Clarke, Sean MacDermott, and Joseph Plunkett.....  To name but a few of the dedicated Irish Citizen Army leaders who will be remembered for their bravery and were executed by the British as an example of the independence they represented.

As I sat watching this stellar film honoring these brave souls, Adrian's voice continued to blend with my subconscious. During our visit to Ireland in 2006, his Bed & Breakfast in Doolin, County Clare, was our home base for several days. By day, we discovered The Burren, literally hung over the Cliffs of Moher, and navigated the heaving Atlantic Ocean in order to visit the Aran Islands. But, during one glorious afternoon, this was our time with Adrian, a renowned composer and singer who specializes in Traditional Irish music.




               Source: South Dublin Libraries' Digital Archive


Adrian spoke of his dear Father's role in 1916 when many young men were torn between Irish independence and fighting for Great Britain. He dedicated his music to the brave individuals on both fronts.

Adrian's rendition of the classic song, "No Man's Land," written in 1976 by Scottish folk singer-songwriter, Eric Bogle, brings tears to my eyes. Adrian's talking voice seamlessly unites with his singing voice in a most craggy, Irish kind of way and bridges any gaps between the past and the present.

When I miss that splendid voice, as I do right now, I play his CD, "Often I Think About Doolin." Cut number three, "The Green Fields of France," another name for Bogle's iconic song, reflecting on the grave of a young man who died in World War I, has probably become the finest anti war song ever written. And, Adrian certainly does it justice.

Below are the lyrics to "Green Fields Of France." I choose to commemorate the young Irish soldiers, recruited by Britain to fight for the British Empire only to return home to Ireland as lost, unloved and forgotten souls. In this sense, and having lived through the Vietnam conflict, I am reminded of our own men and women, neighbors and friends, who experienced a similar lackluster greeting upon returning home to the United States. As I have often said before, unfortunately, history does repeat itself. Will we ever learn....?


"Green Fields Of France"
By: Eric Bogle

Well, how do you do, Private William McBride,
Do you mind if I sit down here by your graveside?
And rest for awhile in the warm summer sun,
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done.
And I see by your gravestone you were only 19
When you joined the glorious fallen in 1916,
Well, I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean
Or, Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?

Did they Beat the drum slowly, did the play the pipes lowly?
Did the rifles fir o'er you as they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?

And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined?
And, though you died back in 1916,
To that loyal heart are you forever 19?
Or are you a stranger without even a name,
Forever enshrined behind some glass pane,
In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained,
And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame?

The sun's shining down on these green fields of France;
The warm wind blows gently, and the red poppies dance.
The trenches have vanished long under the plow;
No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now.
But here in this graveyard that's still No Man's Land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man.
And a whole generation who were butchered and damned.

And I can't help but wonder, no Willie McBride,
Do all those who lie here know why they died?
Did you really believe them when they told you "The Cause?"
Did you really believe that this war would end wars?
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame
The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain,
For Willie McBride, it all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again.




Copyright © 2016 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved