Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Publication Process
Reflect
on your process of choosing a publication outlet, writing an article, and
submitting that article for review. How did you feel going into that process?
How do you feel having done it? Will you do it again?
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Sample News Release
Sample News Release
News Release
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
July 3,2012
July 3,2012
For more information
contact:
Victoria Cureton
1000 Beach Blvd
Huntington Beach, CA 91919
919-919-9191
Huntington
Beach Business Announces Summer Readiness Program
HUNTINGTON
BEACH, CA- On July 29,2012 from 10:00am
until 2:00 pm, HB Holistic Health will be launching
their first annual
free one
day event to educate the public about the healthy avenues
toward
weight management. The event will include speakers from
different
health care associations, special exhibits, food booths, and
alternative
energy boosters. All proceeds will be
donated to the
Type 2
Diabetes Prevention Program.
Victoria Cureton, of the HB Holistic
Health, and other local
Health care
practitioners will be offering free pre-diabetes self-
Screening
kits for all participants. In addition,
this year’s seminar
theme will
focus on healthy alternatives to popular energy
boosters.
boosters.
Please RSVP to HB Holistic Health at
919-919-9191 by July
10, 2012 to
reserve your spot as space is limited. This is a wonderful
opportunity
to learn healthy ways to achieve your weight
management
goals and we look forward to seeing you at there.
####
Monday, July 2, 2012
Creative Writing Assignment-
In this assignment we are to write anything that comes to mind for 7-10 minutes. Initially, this seems like a confusing idea, "how exactly do you write whatever comes to mind?' much less write for 7-10 minutes without having a given topic. However, when that is the assignment, that is what you do...
What comes to my mind?
I suppose the first thing that comes to my mind, is that which has been plaguing my mind for days now...changes.
Yes, that is what comes to my mind...changes in my life, some of these changes I don't necessarily want, but they are changes that I know are a part of the natural growth cycle. How interesting it is to me to experience my feelings that come with these changes. I welcome some of them, but I do not want others...
Some of these changes, I have endeavored to birth in an intensely focused way. Some of these changes seem to come rushing in towards me at a full speed, no holds barred, screeching kind of way. Knowing that my response to these changes are a vital part of the results that will linger long after the initial awareness passes. Knowing that how I respond is being watched carefully by others, while also being watched by my own self. I am also aware of the way it would be beneficial for me to respond, but at times, wanting to run the other way and hope the changes won't catch up to me.
How odd it seems to being rudely awakened to the blatant fact that life will never ever be the same again, wondering if I enjoyed the past to the fullest extent possible? If I squeezed every ounce possible of the way things will never be again? Feeling heartache and wonder at the same time. Feeling an uncertainty of the way things will evolve and become. While being certain only that they will never, ever be the way they were and that brings a certain heartache with it, while also bringing a joy for having been able to experience some of these things that will never, ever be again...
Changes that usher in the possibility for more, but the hesitant uncertainty of what exactly they will transpire to become. Feeling almost like the future is a large lump in my throat,wondering if I will choke or feel a rush of relief when I finally give in and swallow the inevitable?
Waking, sleeping, acknowledging, trying to ignore, trying to accept, wanting to welcome and wanting to deny...Changes
In this assignment we are to write anything that comes to mind for 7-10 minutes. Initially, this seems like a confusing idea, "how exactly do you write whatever comes to mind?' much less write for 7-10 minutes without having a given topic. However, when that is the assignment, that is what you do...
What comes to my mind?
I suppose the first thing that comes to my mind, is that which has been plaguing my mind for days now...changes.
Yes, that is what comes to my mind...changes in my life, some of these changes I don't necessarily want, but they are changes that I know are a part of the natural growth cycle. How interesting it is to me to experience my feelings that come with these changes. I welcome some of them, but I do not want others...
Some of these changes, I have endeavored to birth in an intensely focused way. Some of these changes seem to come rushing in towards me at a full speed, no holds barred, screeching kind of way. Knowing that my response to these changes are a vital part of the results that will linger long after the initial awareness passes. Knowing that how I respond is being watched carefully by others, while also being watched by my own self. I am also aware of the way it would be beneficial for me to respond, but at times, wanting to run the other way and hope the changes won't catch up to me.
How odd it seems to being rudely awakened to the blatant fact that life will never ever be the same again, wondering if I enjoyed the past to the fullest extent possible? If I squeezed every ounce possible of the way things will never be again? Feeling heartache and wonder at the same time. Feeling an uncertainty of the way things will evolve and become. While being certain only that they will never, ever be the way they were and that brings a certain heartache with it, while also bringing a joy for having been able to experience some of these things that will never, ever be again...
Changes that usher in the possibility for more, but the hesitant uncertainty of what exactly they will transpire to become. Feeling almost like the future is a large lump in my throat,wondering if I will choke or feel a rush of relief when I finally give in and swallow the inevitable?
Waking, sleeping, acknowledging, trying to ignore, trying to accept, wanting to welcome and wanting to deny...Changes
Friday, June 29, 2012
Inspiration In Daily Life
Inspiration in Daily Life...
Where do you find your inspiration?
It seems to me that inspiration is found in all areas of our lives if we look with an open heart. I have found the obvious to be true more often than not. I am an avid reader. I read every day, and often find inspiration in the thoughts and words of others.
I find inspiration through listening. Listening to music, listening to the collective sounds of others, listening to words expressed through others, listening to animals, and listening to nature. I find inspiration through sight. Seeing the world around me, watching others, watching animals, and especially watching nature. I find inspiration through smells. The smell of cooking, the smells erupting from a campfire or the gentle wafting of the diffused essence of nature's gift of essential oils, the smell of nature in all its grander. I find inspiration through touch. Touching the world around me, the touch of another's hand or hug, the touch of an animal cuddling, the touch of a child snuggling, or the various textures given as gifts through nature. While all of these bring with them certain inspiration, mostly, I find inspiration in silence. The silence as I experience the art of quieting my surroundings through the focused intention of traveling inward. The silence of quieting my mind seems to bring the most inspiration to me yet.
This inspiration gathered from the quieting of my mind allows for the barrage of outside information to quiet down and slowly fade away. As I quiet my mind, and allow the thoughts to find their way to me, inspiration seems to come automatically. Through this inspiration of silence, I am able to express through written words that which I could not express otherwise. The inspiration gathered from a quiet mind seems to allow the thoughts to transform to words and gently transform onto the writing medium in front of me, almost if by the quieting of my mind, the echoes of silence are shouting to be heard.
This silent inspiration can be interrupted by conforming to the walls imposed by technique, but when allowed to fully bloom, they are easily molded into the form that allows for their conveying themselves to others.
As for now, I listen to the echoes of silence reverberating for all to hear...
Where do you find your inspiration?
It seems to me that inspiration is found in all areas of our lives if we look with an open heart. I have found the obvious to be true more often than not. I am an avid reader. I read every day, and often find inspiration in the thoughts and words of others.
I find inspiration through listening. Listening to music, listening to the collective sounds of others, listening to words expressed through others, listening to animals, and listening to nature. I find inspiration through sight. Seeing the world around me, watching others, watching animals, and especially watching nature. I find inspiration through smells. The smell of cooking, the smells erupting from a campfire or the gentle wafting of the diffused essence of nature's gift of essential oils, the smell of nature in all its grander. I find inspiration through touch. Touching the world around me, the touch of another's hand or hug, the touch of an animal cuddling, the touch of a child snuggling, or the various textures given as gifts through nature. While all of these bring with them certain inspiration, mostly, I find inspiration in silence. The silence as I experience the art of quieting my surroundings through the focused intention of traveling inward. The silence of quieting my mind seems to bring the most inspiration to me yet.
This inspiration gathered from the quieting of my mind allows for the barrage of outside information to quiet down and slowly fade away. As I quiet my mind, and allow the thoughts to find their way to me, inspiration seems to come automatically. Through this inspiration of silence, I am able to express through written words that which I could not express otherwise. The inspiration gathered from a quiet mind seems to allow the thoughts to transform to words and gently transform onto the writing medium in front of me, almost if by the quieting of my mind, the echoes of silence are shouting to be heard.
This silent inspiration can be interrupted by conforming to the walls imposed by technique, but when allowed to fully bloom, they are easily molded into the form that allows for their conveying themselves to others.
As for now, I listen to the echoes of silence reverberating for all to hear...
Sunday, June 17, 2012
The Stool
The little stool was nervously awaiting performing it's first unstated duty as a stool. He knew that the moment someone sat on him he would feel fulfillment, a sense of completeness. No one had ever sat on him before, and his thoughts raced uncontrollably every time someone would walk near. "Is this the first one?", " Will I be up to the task?", "What if my legs give out?", the list of thoughts raced around like little boys on the go cart track for the first time. He was oblivious to anything else. He wanted so much to matter, to be of use, to accomplish what mattered most in life. He waited anxiously to feel the joy he knew would come when someone finally sat upon his eager little self.
Alas, these thoughts seemed like wasted energy, as no one had yet to christen his calling in life, providing a much needed service to those souls looking for a little time of relaxation. The little stool was so desperate to experience his very first job, and yet he was terrified at the same time. Day after day, he would fret and fret endlessly. Never knowing what it felt like to have his wish to be of use finally fulfilled.
Everyday the little stool would look to the stool to his right, she seemed to not have a care in the world. Never giving credence to the fact that no one had desired her talents at supporting their body weight as they chose to rest, as no one ever had. Then there was the stool to his left. He was always able to fulfill his purpose, everyone seemed to gravitate towards him. Smiling obliviously to everything around him, he seemed so satisfied, so sure of himself.
The little stool did not understand this at all. "Why didn't anyone want him?", " Why did everyone always choose the other stool?" Both of them had come packed in the same box, they were put together by the same person, they were even the same color! Why didn't anyone want him to fulfill his purpose, by providing a wonderful place for them to sit and rest?
The little stool conjured up all kinds of stories about being 'The Chosen Stool', 'The Popular One That Everyone Wanted'; these made up stories swirled constantly in his mind. His imagination was definitely fruitful, images running rampant through his head with dreams of his life purpose being fulfilled. They always to come to a screeching halt with the stark realization that as of yet no one had chosen to sit on him. This made the little stool so very sad. He didn't understand why he was always passed over, never being the preferred stool. Soon, the little stool began to feel great resentment towards the stool to his left. The little stool could feel anger rising up within him, bitterness, anger, and of course jealously.
The little stool did not like feeling this way. The stool to his right never seemed to care, in fact she was always happy! The little stool could almost feel the heavy cloud of darkness that always seemed to surround him. Day after day, these negative feelings kept growing larger and larger, and he kept right on feeding them. His only wish in life never being fulfilled.
Until one day, feeling the overwhelming weight of his negativity, the little stool fell over. Lying on his side, he knew that the stool to his right would possibly be the only one willing to help him. The little stool begin to cry, wondering if the stool to his right would hear, and positive that the stool to his left would not even notice that he had fallen over. He didn't want to ask for help, because he was sure he would never get it. He didn't want to admit defeat and certainly didn't want to bother anyone. He fretted and stewed as the anger, resentment, and negative energies kept building and building. Finally, the little stool could not even face himself. He cried out in repentance feeling so unworthy, certain that his behavior warranted his never being rescued. He came to the realization that he needed to change his negative and destructive thoughts. Wallowing in despair, it seemed he would lie there forever, lying on his side, forever spewing out what felt like poison.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, he burst out in laughter, releasing all those pent up feelings. He laughed and laughed until he thought he might start crying. The thought of what he might look like, lying there on his side swimming in self pity, while laughing hysterically, made him laugh even more. He realized that his laughter came from deep inside his soul, where he had finally realized that all those useless negative and destructive feelings were not accomplishing what he wanted most in his life, to be of use.
Just as suddenly as he realized this, he immediately felt strong hands reaching for him, firmly grabbing his legs, picking him up and then, being flooded with an overwhelming joy as he realized that the body whose hands had reached down to upright him, was soon sitting on him.
It quickly dawned on the little stool; anger, bitterness, resentment never enabled him to accomplish his life's purpose. Feeding day after day upon negative and destructive thoughts and feelings, had kept him locked in a prison of sorts. He understood then that when he changed his thoughts and was able to express laughter, that made him feel good, that's when everything changed. Those strong arms set him upright, and then their owner sat down on the little stool! He was ecstatic, and vowed from that day on, to always keep his heart full of laughter, never allowing any space to be given over to negative or destructive feelings.
From that day forward, whether anyone sat on the little stool or not, he always greeted each day with a smile and laughed as much as possible. His life purpose was finally realized, and he understood that it wasn't what he thought it was at all, He understood that what was important, was that he be able to find joy no matter what the circumstance.
Oh that we would all learn this lesson from the little stool. Negative or destructive feelings and energies will not manifest what you want. Laughing and being positive will always welcome the desired outcome, when you assume the feeling of your wish fulfilled.
Alas, these thoughts seemed like wasted energy, as no one had yet to christen his calling in life, providing a much needed service to those souls looking for a little time of relaxation. The little stool was so desperate to experience his very first job, and yet he was terrified at the same time. Day after day, he would fret and fret endlessly. Never knowing what it felt like to have his wish to be of use finally fulfilled.
Everyday the little stool would look to the stool to his right, she seemed to not have a care in the world. Never giving credence to the fact that no one had desired her talents at supporting their body weight as they chose to rest, as no one ever had. Then there was the stool to his left. He was always able to fulfill his purpose, everyone seemed to gravitate towards him. Smiling obliviously to everything around him, he seemed so satisfied, so sure of himself.
The little stool did not understand this at all. "Why didn't anyone want him?", " Why did everyone always choose the other stool?" Both of them had come packed in the same box, they were put together by the same person, they were even the same color! Why didn't anyone want him to fulfill his purpose, by providing a wonderful place for them to sit and rest?
The little stool conjured up all kinds of stories about being 'The Chosen Stool', 'The Popular One That Everyone Wanted'; these made up stories swirled constantly in his mind. His imagination was definitely fruitful, images running rampant through his head with dreams of his life purpose being fulfilled. They always to come to a screeching halt with the stark realization that as of yet no one had chosen to sit on him. This made the little stool so very sad. He didn't understand why he was always passed over, never being the preferred stool. Soon, the little stool began to feel great resentment towards the stool to his left. The little stool could feel anger rising up within him, bitterness, anger, and of course jealously.
The little stool did not like feeling this way. The stool to his right never seemed to care, in fact she was always happy! The little stool could almost feel the heavy cloud of darkness that always seemed to surround him. Day after day, these negative feelings kept growing larger and larger, and he kept right on feeding them. His only wish in life never being fulfilled.
Until one day, feeling the overwhelming weight of his negativity, the little stool fell over. Lying on his side, he knew that the stool to his right would possibly be the only one willing to help him. The little stool begin to cry, wondering if the stool to his right would hear, and positive that the stool to his left would not even notice that he had fallen over. He didn't want to ask for help, because he was sure he would never get it. He didn't want to admit defeat and certainly didn't want to bother anyone. He fretted and stewed as the anger, resentment, and negative energies kept building and building. Finally, the little stool could not even face himself. He cried out in repentance feeling so unworthy, certain that his behavior warranted his never being rescued. He came to the realization that he needed to change his negative and destructive thoughts. Wallowing in despair, it seemed he would lie there forever, lying on his side, forever spewing out what felt like poison.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, he burst out in laughter, releasing all those pent up feelings. He laughed and laughed until he thought he might start crying. The thought of what he might look like, lying there on his side swimming in self pity, while laughing hysterically, made him laugh even more. He realized that his laughter came from deep inside his soul, where he had finally realized that all those useless negative and destructive feelings were not accomplishing what he wanted most in his life, to be of use.
Just as suddenly as he realized this, he immediately felt strong hands reaching for him, firmly grabbing his legs, picking him up and then, being flooded with an overwhelming joy as he realized that the body whose hands had reached down to upright him, was soon sitting on him.
It quickly dawned on the little stool; anger, bitterness, resentment never enabled him to accomplish his life's purpose. Feeding day after day upon negative and destructive thoughts and feelings, had kept him locked in a prison of sorts. He understood then that when he changed his thoughts and was able to express laughter, that made him feel good, that's when everything changed. Those strong arms set him upright, and then their owner sat down on the little stool! He was ecstatic, and vowed from that day on, to always keep his heart full of laughter, never allowing any space to be given over to negative or destructive feelings.
From that day forward, whether anyone sat on the little stool or not, he always greeted each day with a smile and laughed as much as possible. His life purpose was finally realized, and he understood that it wasn't what he thought it was at all, He understood that what was important, was that he be able to find joy no matter what the circumstance.
Oh that we would all learn this lesson from the little stool. Negative or destructive feelings and energies will not manifest what you want. Laughing and being positive will always welcome the desired outcome, when you assume the feeling of your wish fulfilled.
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