Archive for September, 2006

The Marriage Whisperer and Creating a Federal Department of Peace


By Stacy K. Waltman

In Oprah’s November magazine the following article is published regarding utilizing the same skills we use in our personal relationships to guide us toward world peace.


Please take a moment to read this outstanding message which highlights the importance of using the word “AND” in place of “OR” in our thoughts and vocabulary.

When we allow multiple perspectives to occur simultaneously, we begin to broaden our understanding between people.

Retraining ourselves to look at many alternatives keeps our minds supple, our aggressive tendencies to a minimum and our lives rich. Self-righteous and entrenched positions begin to soften and relating versus controlling communication skills develop.

In conjunction with this article, there is also a movement to create a Federal Department of Peace within our government. This department will advocate non-violence and will also address issues such as child-abuse, gangs and drug addiction.

Non-violence is the governing principle of this organization. Non-violence (Ahimsa) is a broad virtue which encompasses the lack of hurtful thoughts, hurtful words and hurtful deeds directed to ourselves and each other. It begins with each one of us.

When you refrain from gossip you are practicing Ahimsa, when you are gentle to yourself and turn down your inner critic, you are practicing Ahimsa, when you speak about others with compassion instead of judgement, you are practicing Ahimsa. When you chose to cause no harm, you are practicing Ahimsa.

May you be blessed by recognizing when your own internal violence is engaged in making someone pay or in being the only one who is right and may you develop the skills to reverse this tendency and its control of your life.



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Mrs. Woo Woo’s World Famous Fortune Cookies



Please enjoy a fun and frivolous tale:

Fun Fortune Cookies




Have fun!



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An Irish Folk Tale

Mists of Ireland

Interpretation by Stacy K. Waltman

Ah, they say ’tis the most beautiful island in the world – this Ireland. The sky, the mountains, the ancient stones themselves bless the land with love and fill the heart with hope.

And of course the most beautiful islands have beautiful places within them, and on the northwest shore of Ireland there’s a lovely bay, where the emerald mountains come down and caress the sea, and the soft silver mists kiss the land.

Now at the heart of the bay is a small village, home for generations of fishermen and their families.

It’s not an easy life. There’s not much land available for farmin’, and the people grow only vegetables in their gardens, but the bounty of the sea keeps the people fed, and mostly happy.

I say mostly, because there’s one chap who isn’t at’ll happy. His name is Danny, and if he’s famous in the village, it’s because he hates fishin’.

Saints Patrick and Brigid as my witnesses, Danny has tried and tried but he can’t stomach fishin’ and anythin’ surroundin’ the sport.

He’s hired on every boat in the village, worked for every captain in the land, but each time Danny tries to call the job his own, he fails miserably.

Some say he’s jinxed, and all the captains believe it ~ save one – Captain Johnny McNeary – the meanest man in town.

When our story begins, Danny’s workin’ for this last man who will have ‘im, and this captain told Danny that he’d be dismissed for a little as his first mistake. There would be no second chances – no barterin’, no bickerin’.

Being famous for hatin’ ta fish, you can understand bein’ posted on the lowest job of the crew. So Danny took his lot and the days passed.

As so it goes, as the nets are drawn in with every catch, the fish are dumped at Danny’s feet, and his job is to chop off the head, chop off the tail, slit the belly, clean the entrails, and throw the tuther parts overboard to bait the tuther fish.

Smelly, back-breakin’ work, and with a suspicious captain and crew, the work is heart-breakin’ too. But what choice has he? His family must eat and there’s no other work.

So here he sits on his bench, bent ov’r in the sweatin’ sun, knife in hand, grabbin’ a fish, choppin’ off its head, choppin’ off the tail, slittin’ the belly and guttin’ the fish.

And as soon as one is cleaned and in the basket, Danny reaches for another, and another, and he works until the hold is full, or the weather makes the capt’in head back for shore.

One day, when the sun was beatin’ down and Danny’s bones cried out for rest, as he passed a clean fish to the basket and grabbed for another, he found in ‘is hands the most beautiful fish he’d ever seen.

It was not like any other fish. This fish was stream-lined, the fins and tail elegant, almost royal in their fullness and delicacy.

Vibrant purple, emerald and jade were the colors illuminatin’ the body, with a band of pure silver at the fish’s belly.

And its eyes – intelligent, large, and searchin’ – they seemed to look at Danny, and look not just at ‘im, but weave deep into ‘is soul.

Danny was awestruck. Transfixed by the beauty of the fish, and know’n for sure, he couldn’t harm this beautiful creature, let alone slit that delicate silver belly.

Sweet Jesus, Mary and Joseph, what could he do? The captain had said, “one mistake and that’s it.” But as he was a look’n at the fish, he no more could gut that fish than he could gut himself.

He looked at the stern of the boat, and the captain was looking aft. His other mates were busy do’in their posts. Did he have a chance?

He looked again, and saw that the captain was still distracted, so he quickly leaned over the side of the boat and let the fish go – returned to its home in the sea.

The fish didn’t tarry, for t’was only a second and in a flash of purple, emerald, jade and silver, the regal fish vanished.

When Danny’s mind and heart returned to the boat, his eyes looked once more aft, and, sure enough, there was the captain, staring at him hard and it was clear that he had seen it all – the whole bloody mess.

Fists on his commandin’ hips, eyes poppin’ out a their sockets and, not ta mention, beet red in the face, Captain McNeary exploded, “By God, you’ll be off this boat when we go ashore, and I’ll see to it that you never work again!”

‘Twas the longest voyage back to shore Danny ever knew and only the walk home t’wer longer, for he had to break the news to ‘is family – he was out of work, yet again.

Here’s a gray and broken heart, shoulders saggin’ as he walked, Danny so grieved that he couldn’t even weep. His family would surely starve now. Oh god, why’d he throw the blimey fish back?

Breakin’ into his misery, from somewhere behind, Danny heard the tinkerin’ of a bell, a bell like a cow would wear, and when he summoned his strength at last to turn his head ’round, sure enough there was a small cow, bein’ led by a ol’man in a tattered brown tunic.

When the man  caught up to Danny, he said, “Danny, me boy, I think you’ve seen better days. You walk like a man whose heart is broken and whose world has ended.”

Danny barley heard ‘im, so agrieved was he – so the man grabbed his arm and shook till Danny came back to ‘is senses.

The man continued, “The word has got ’round town and sure enough ‘tis a sad fortune about the boat and the captain,” the stranger continued. “You must be frettn’ about how you’ll care for the wee little ones.

Danny was in such a state that he couldn’t remember how he knew the bloke but they must have crossed paths before, see’in how he knew ‘is story.

“I can help ya”, the man said. “Here be a fine cow, a lovely young cow, and I can tell you, she gives the sweetest and most abundant milk in the land. Me cow has never let me down, she never runs dry, and from her sweet milk you can make cream and butter and cheese. Danny, your family need’t starve. If you like, she’s yours. I’m an old man and no longer have need a her”.

Now there was somethin’ about the man that made Danny shiver, made his skin crawl just under the surface, but he couldn’t say why, so he shrugged the feeling off and noticed the cow lookin’ healthy. Danny turned to walk away as he mumbled his thanks – he had no money to buy the dream.

The man seemed to read his thoughts, for he said, “I like you, Danny and you’ve had a hard lot, so here’s me offer. The cow’s yours for three years. She’ll keep you supplied in the sweetest milk in all the land for all that time. You’ll prosper, and enjoy your life again.

And, at the end of three years I’ll come and find you, and ask you three questions. If there’s an answer to me three questions, the cow is yours forever. And if there tisn’t, then you’ll come and work for me, till the end a time. Now, what do you say?”

What choice did Danny have ?  He couldn’t let his children starve.

His skin crawled again as he nodded his head and reached for the cow’s tether and took it in hand, and the man only smiled a satisfied smile, turned and went his way.

So Danny went home, and though his sweet wife was uneasy, he told her not to worry.

Would you believe, that first year, the little cow gave the sweetest milk in the land, just like the old man said, and there was an unlimited supply?

As predicted, Danny and his family didn’t starve, for they made cream and butter and cheese, and after a while had even enough to share with neighbors.

By the second year word spread about Danny’s good fortune, and about how delicious was the milk and cream and butter and cheese, and people in the village would come and buy from Danny, and the little cow never let ’em down.

Near the beginnin’ of the third year, Danny opened a small inn aside his home, and was able to share his good fortune with travelers and pilgrims and certainly those in the village who had fallen on hard times themselves.

Life had never been so good, and all the people in the land knew Danny to be a good man, generous of heart, of warm hospitality, and always ready to help a neighbor.

In the second half of the third year though, Danny had a dream about the old man who he hadn’t thought of in all this time and remembered that the man was coming to visit at the end of the year and would ask his three questions.

All his prosperity could disappear if Danny had not the answers, so he began to study and worry in equal measure.

He got an encyclopedia, and began to study section “A”, and set to learnin’ and memorizin’ as much as he could. After a time, Danny finished “A” and turned to learnin’ section “B”.

Do you know how large is the “B” volume of the encyclopedia? – took Danny three months before he could even finish section “B”!

So in four months time Danny had only studied two volumes. He picked up his pace, but knew he would never finish in time for the old man’s visit.

Danny remembered the old man to be kind and prayen’ to the saints that the old man’s questions would be easy or that the old man might just plain forget – if he were alive a t’all.

And wouldn’t you know, at closing time, at the last stroke of midnight on the last day of the third year, there came a poundin’ on the door to Danny’s inn.

Now Danny was workin’ alone that night havin’ just locked up, for it was a blustery and cold evenin’ and the wind was howlin’ somethin’ fierce. Be’n a little nervous, as all the guests had gone home except for one man at the counter finishin’ his supper and ale, Danny paced to and fro.

The poundin’ came again, but this time even louder and when no one answered, the door was burst open to Danny’s worst fears.

This couldn’t be the same man! There wasn’t a hint of the humble old man Danny met on the road years ago.  This was clearly the Devil himself!

Danny’s skin crawled just like it did that day on the path three years ago – as fear as big as the tallest mountain crept over every pore of his tremblin’ body.

Tonight the Devil was not dressed simply in a plain tunic, nor was he leading a friendly cow. Instead his horns were sharpened to saber points, and his hooves polished to a black shine. His wicked tail slither’n on the floor like a serpent and the red of his robes full of rage and ‘is eyes they shot out a blistery fire.

The Devil strode through the doorway with power, pound’n his forked staff on the floor, and filled the room with the odor of sulfur and the magnificence of evil.

What a grand and deadly spectacle he was! Poor Danny was so petrified he couldn’t speak, nor think, nor hardly breathe, but only hold on to the counter so that he didn’t faint dead away.

And the Devil, quite pleased with himself, hissed, “So, Danny me boy, did you remember I was visitin’ ya tonight?”

Well as I said, Danny was so full of terror he couldn’t breathe, much less answer. He was tremblin’ and then just froze – stiff as a blarney stone.

And then, a strange thing’ happen’.

The man at the counter, the one patron still left in the inn, said to the Devil, “Yes, he remembered you were comin’. And what, pray tell, is your second question?”

Well, the Devil roared at his cheekiness, and thought of smitin’ the stranger on the spot, but, he’d come for Danny, and was not to be distracted from his due.

The Devil turned to Danny and spat, “You are clearly outdone boy and are no match for my fearsome powers. Are you ready for me questions or are you ready to concede?”

Looking straight at the Devil, the man at the counter said calmly, “He’s ready. And what might your third question be?”

This was not to be borne! Enraged, the Devil no longer held back his fiery fury, but turned on the man at the counter and with all of his force blazed, “Who in bloddy hell are you?”

And in the sweetest and most powerful of voices the man answered, “I am the King of Fishes. Three years ago Danny gave me back my life, and I’m here tonight to do a deed in kind. And, by the way, that was your third and final question. As you have had your three questions answered Devil, go away with your beastly self. Be gone!”

Well, the Devil knew he’d been beaten, and there was nothin’ to do but leave, his power was diminishin’ rapidly but he wouldn’t leave quietly.

Such fury, such rage, such scorchin’ heat flung about every scale of his wicked self, and when he left, the door slammed behind him so hard that the foundations of the emerald island shook to their very core.

Hours later, the smell of scorched wood and sulfur still bit the air, and menace still buzzed all around, but he was, at least, gone. Danny’s payment had been met.

When Danny was able again to catch his breath and realize he was spared, the man at the counter, the King of the Fishes, got up to leave.

He stopped, though, just at the door, turned round, and smilin’, said to Danny, “Enjoy your life now, Danny, me boy. I’ll be seein’ you ’round. And if you ever need me services, just call.”

As The King of Fishes passed through the doorway and out into the night, the light in the inn was no longer red and scorchin’, but was shimmerin’ in shades of purple, emerald, jade and silver.


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Transparent chrysalis

Author:  Stacy Kamala Waltman

Before he’s able to dip into a stream of fresh wind gliding into flight, the multi-legged caterpillar first gave up his ability to dance.

Surrendering to complete darkness, his cocoon immobilized all movement. With total isolation he was afraid.

In panic he prayed, “What is happening God? I don’t like this, I feel trapped.” And God whispered, “Patience my friend, you have prayed for transformation and I am answering your prayer.”

And then God asked, “What else can you surrender?”

The caterpillar no longer felt like himself. He was uncomfortable and wanted to reverse this prayer but his body was trapped. Nothing was familiar.

Just yesterday he left his tribe of family and friends and moved to this new tree forte because he thought that’s what God wanted him to do with his life. Now he wondered why he had taken such drastic action. Had he gone mad?

So he prayed, “Haven’t I given up everything for you God? I don’t like this. Am I going to die?” And God said, “Things are not always as they appear. Be patient and trust me.”

And with great effort the caterpillar gave up his need to try to figure everything out and understand why things were the way they were.

He slept deeply and lost count of the days. When he finally awoke, his body felt odd and he cried out, “Why are you making me so uncomfortable? Have I angered you? When will we be done?”

And God answered, “Patience my friend, Soon it will all become clear.”

Feeling deep despair he thought, I really am dying, there is no God. In my delusion I must have imagined talking to him. After all, who am I to talk to God?

“Give up your thoughts, pity and anger and surrender to God completely, ” said a voice.

The first change he noticed was the light. As the days passed, more and more light came into his tiny cavern. The light brought with it a small feeling of hope and he began to feel things he couldn’t identify.

The day came when his movements became more fruitful and he no longer felt so constricted. He noticed that everything had changed.

And after moments of intense struggle, he was free and breathing in God as he flew and danced with the wind.

Red Butterfly

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An ancient map of the world

Do you have a favorite myth, story, song or lore that you love to tell or love to hear? If you would be so kind, would you please email me the one that touches your heart the most?

Storytelling journeys and many thanks,

email: ic@integrationcoaching.com

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By Stacy K. Waltman

It was 1924 and they shared a love for each other and for a vast, untamed Alaska and her living creatures.

Dedicating their lives to the preservation of what little remote wilderness was left in the world, they taught others how to observe nature quietly and to breathe in the smallest details of majestic horizons.

He was a field naturalist, an enormously talented artist who had an uncanny knack for cooing animals to his side. So close that some called it magic ~ a Dr. Doolittle of sorts.

She was the first female graduate of the University of Alaska in Fairbanks earning a degree in business.

She had no training and little preparation for the life they would embark upon together as man and wife. Their journey as a united soul began at three o’clock in the morning, on August 19, 1924.

In a log chapel along the Yukon River in the small riverside village of Anvik, Alaska they married and became the Murie’s – Olaus and Mardy.

Their honeymoon and life adventures together formed in the arctic wilderness with seven Siberian huskies in a dogsled team which carried the newlyweds through blizzards and tough terrain as they studied the migration patterns of caribou.

At that point in history, it was widely believed by “civilized” people that the harsh wilderness was not a place for women. It was too harsh and women were too frail.

Mardy endured a lot of criticism for her lifestyle. When asked how she managed, she once answered, “When the trail was good at all, I’d stand on the sled handlebars; otherwise, I’d have to run next to the sled. And those Alaska dogs were so eager to get into harness and go, that you could hardly restrain them in the morning,” said Mardy Murie. “They would go so fast that I just had to hang on to this curved handlebar at the back of the sled, and sometimes my arm and my feet would be flying out behind somewhere!”

Averaging approximately 20 miles a day, their honeymoon sleigh ride covered over 550 miles of wilderness Alaskan territory.

Mardy and Olaus raised their family on the open land and when asked by other women, “My goodness, wasn’t it awfully hard raising children in the wilderness?” Mardy would answer,
“Think of all the things I didn’t have to do. I didn’t have to go to a bridge party. I didn’t have to wax the floor. I didn’t have to answer the telephone and I didn’t have to be on a social committee.”

For 39 years they shared a passion and commitment to the preservation of wilderness and worked side by side in wildlife research and conservation.

Both lovers wrote books on their various expeditions together and chronicled the natural flow of long-forgotten creatures and their patterns in life and death.

In 1956, George Schaller was one of three young biologists who assisted the Murie’s on one of their trek’s – this one through the remote northeastern section of the Brooks Range in arctic Alaska.


George Schaller’s 1956 report stated:

“Dr. Olaus Murie, intimately acquainted with the North Country, taught me in his quiet way to observe and appreciate many of the aspects of the wilderness which I had formally overlooked.

Mrs. Olaus Murie, or “Mardy” as she is known to everyone, with her charm and efficiency was largely responsible for the planning of our expedition, and it was through her efforts that we accomplished everything that we set out to do.

As a result of the 1956 trip to the Sheenjek, Mardy and Olaus as well as a lot of people, fought very hard to get the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge established.

We fight for the Refuge and for the last great wilderness in the United States.

I’ve traveled in many parts of the world, in the most remote wilderness, and I don’t think people in the United States realize what a treasure they have, because there is very little remote wilderness left in the world.

It is very hard to find a place that is virtually untouched, so the Refuge is really a treasure not just for the United States but for the world.”


With the help of others, Olaus and Mardy Murie continued their environmental quest for preservation by fostering the growth and development of The Wilderness Society.

For eight years The Wilderness Society championed the government to pass a wilderness bill, protecting some of Alaska ‘s prime and pristine land until eventually, in 1964, President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the Wilderness Act.

He did not taste the fruits of the legislative bill’s passage though because in September 1963, pioneer and conservationist Olaus Murie passed away. Undeterred from their joint vision though, wife Mardy continued their quest for wilderness conservation until the age of 99.

In adventure, her’s was a life less traveled.

On some nights, Mardy’s spirit was fired by the midnight sun. On others, her soul was powered by stars that rained down from a pitch black sky.

And then there were those nights when enchantment would take flight with the aurora’s seductive dance illuminating the sky in flashes of color.

She studied the quiet and small as well as the enormous and vast and found magic through eyes that saw more than most.

The drums of her ears vibrated to a cacophony of wilderness melodies sung by a symphony of creatures that performed for no one but themselves.

She allowed herself to drink in a world of harmony and reverence and sought to share her cup overflowing with a world yet unborn.

Grey Wolf

Mardy at 88 years old:

“So, what have I said? That we live in a precarious world; that we are threatened by man’s ingenuity; that we need a less consumptive lifestyle in order to preserve the beauty and grace of our world; and that our remaining wild places, our wilderness, have to be a most important element in all our thinking and all our doing.

I think if we saved every bit of designated wilderness it wouldn’t be enough to satisfy what I think should be the normal longings of a person to know what natural country looks like.

And I think just experiencing some fairly untouched country on our planet does something for a person’s mind and soul.”

Winter Clothing

Mardy at 99 years young:

“I love to lie awake a little while at night – listening to the quietness. Only the faint sound of the river. There it is, out there – a piece of natural world – river and forest and mountains and sky, and all the creatures, safely curled up or wandering about, according to their various natures.

I lie there and listen, and feel the nightness of it all.

There is something smooth, silky, and harmonious about the night, a blessing and a benison – not simply a gap between hurried activities.”

Blue Moon

They were mavericks and the world has been blessed with the love and generosity of their vision.

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Healthy Food 

By Stacy K. Waltman

I wanted to pass this information along to you from Integrative Nutrition.  This group is not affiliated with my company but I am impressed with what they are doing in the nutritional world of food. 

Please take a moment to read their
September newsletter below:

September 2006

Dear Reader,

There’s another thing I want to confess to you: I rarely eat at McDonald’s.

My favorite food these days is organic quinoa with fresh vegetables, which I cook for myself on many mornings.

In fact, almost all my meals are home cooked and lovingly made from organic foods purchased at a great local co-op in my small town.

I love simple, seasonal foods eaten in a calm environment. Preparing them doesn’t really take that long: a few minutes to steam the vegetables; a few minutes to put on some grains.

If I’m eating raw foods, I keep the dish very simple. If I’m eating animal food, I prepare it in a way that takes just a few minutes and is a lot less expensive than eating out.

Home-cooked food gives me an inner compass. I’ve learned to mix and match flavors and listen to my body’s deepest desires.By understanding my cravings, I understand where I’m at, where I want to go and how to get myself there. This makes me happier than any Happy Meal at McDonald’s ever could.

The benefits of preparing my own food really hit home once I became a health counselor.

I jumped off the busy corporate treadmill, slowed down and paid more attention to my body. I had plenty of time to cook organic, high-quality, whole food meals. Eating these foods all day, every day, changed my health, my energy, my thinking — my entire future. And it will change yours too.

Are you ready?

Joshua Rosenthal
Founder and Director, Integrative Nutrition

Please take a moment and visit their website:  http://www.integrativenutrition.com/

To Your Health!

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