My prediction is that many of the home owners that didn’t foreclose last year will definitely foreclose in 2010! You don’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure that out! The media is trying to convince us that the mortgage crisis is on its way to recovery. I don’t believe it, and from many of the home owners that I’ve talked to here in Los Angeles, they don’t believe it either!
This new group of foreclosures are the home owners that has been hanging on by the seat of their pants, hoping, praying, and monitoring the home values regularly, in hope of selling when the market indicates that they can at least payoff what they owe. They are not even thinking about profit now, just relief from the financial burden. The majority are in mortgages that are upside-down, meaning they owe more than the current market value!
The majority of home owners that purchased in the last 5 years will foreclose intentionally because their property is so upside-down. The owners that don’t have 10 to 15 years to twiddle their thumbs and wait until the market comes back to what they currently owe, will decide to pack up, and simply walk away from their property.
These home owners are the type of people that have always paid their bills on time, always paid their mortgage, never even thought about throwing in the towel. I know for sure that this is accurate, because I’m one that falls into this “walk-away” group. I’ve been sitting on the fence for a year, and I’m seriously considering renting a great place at the ocean in Los Angeles for $1,500.00 less than I’m putting out monthly mortgage payments!
I’m wondering how many of you reading this blog are thinking about deliberately walking away from your upside-down property?
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Quantum Physics and Mind Power
We have all been told that the thoughts that we produce have a direct affect on our reality. In other words, whatever we focus on shows up in abundance in our physical life. If we worry and focus about not having money, then we continue to not have money. When we focus on love, giving, and kindness, in return we are surrounded with people that give us what we are mentally putting out into the universe with our thoughts.Many Nobel Prize winning physicists have proved beyond doubt that the physical world is one large sea of energy that our minds our interacting with every fraction of a second, over and over again.
I've always been intrigued with the power of the mind even before I understood or heard about the concept of quantum physics. Looking back on my early adolescence I had the "Pollyanna" syndrome, and I truly believed without a doubt that I could and would conquer anything that I set my mind to. Where these thoughts came from is beyond me, but luckily they were there to catapult me out of the environment that I was born into, to the realities created by my imagination and thoughts. I must say here, that I'm also aware of the negative physical realities that are part of my world, that I know I create, and I'm currently working on "turning the focus around."
In 1995 I read Ageless Bodies, Timeless Minds: The Quantum Alternative to Growing Old. I found the book to be fascinating on many levels, especially the sections on the power of our thinking and the affects it has on our physical realities.
There was one section that provided a little experiment that you could take to "prove" how you outwardly control your physical world with your mind. If you haven't witnessed this and you're curious I have outlined the instructions for the test below. Try it!
Instuctions:
Tools: (You will need fishing line or strong thread, and a key)
Cut the thread or fishing line to approximately 4 feet so that when it is doubled it will measure 2 feet long.
- Take the Key and slide onto the thread or fishing line and knot the two ends together at the top. (Measurement with the key threaded should be no longer than 2 feet).
- Wrap the thread around your index finger so that it's secure.
- Sit down at a table, and with the arm that is holding the key, place your elbow on the edge of the table with your arm and hand upright.
- Your index finger holding the thread can point so that it is horizontal instead of vertical.
- Keep your position and stay completely still.
- The line should be suspended now from your index finger. Do not move your finger or arm in any way now.
- Think: move the key in a circle to the right.
- Keep saying this over and over in your mind.
- The key will adjust its natural swag and start rotating in a circle to the right.
- Now, tell it to rotate in a larger circle. Repeat several times, rotate in a larger circle. If you are truly focused the key will easily rotate in a larger circle.
- Now tell the key to circle to the left. You will watch the key listen to your instructions and slowly change its orbit to the left as you suggested!
Let me know how it goes after trying this quantum physics experiment!
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Does the Season Affect Your Mood?
First let me start by saying that I'm not a "Woo-Woo" new-age person, but I have noticed over the past decade that this time of year, October through January, I become more alive, more enthused, have a better outlook, hopeful, positive, social, and just plain happy. This phenomenon happens like clockwork every year starting around October. I was born in the month of July, however, I'm usually not at my best or peak during the summer months. I find it interesting that my mood is so positive during this fall/winter time frame, because this is the time of year that many people get depressed or feel lonelier than usual.
Logically speaking, my mood shouldn't be as good as it is during this time of year because there are negative factors for me such as: this is the time of year that finances are magnified due to multiple holiday expenses, not having a partner to share holidays with, and not having a large family. To the contrary, I love this time of year! I can only attribute this to the astrological premise that the time of day, and planetary line-up when you were born, definitely have an influence in this shift I feel yearly!
I have no other explanation and I'm wondering if others are affected by a particular season, month, etc.?
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Youthful
The dictionary defines "youthful" as young; possessing youth; not yet old or mature. Fresh, vigorous, active. This definition doesn't mention chronological age, therefore, we can all agree and conclude that age has nothing to do with being youthful.
I have observed people that are 20-years old that are not youthful and lack exuberance and vitality that is expected for that age and stage in life; and I've also known people in their 80's that are so alive and vigorous that it is clear to see that they have maintain their youthful spirit and vigor throughout the weeks, months, years, and decades of their life! It's exciting and beautiful.
Granted, many people lose their youthfulness over the years, not from body deterioration, but from the mental bombardment of stress, disappointment, and not living up to their rigid expectations set early on in their lives. This group of people never learned to "shift-gears" during life's turmoils and therefore they've robbed themselves of the key to happiness which is maintaining youthfulness by ensuring that mental balance is always monitored and nurtured appropriately. Disappointment and stress can turn into anger and depression which can rob one of the joy and energy of life.
I naturally gravitate toward youthful people, meaning chronologically aged between 20 and 100, that hold the treasured key of youthfulness in the core of their beings. I know their stories and some have turmoil, loss, and many unfortunate situations that have occurred in their lives, however, their flexibility and constant monitoring of their mental state, allowed them to endure by making the appropriate changes in their lives to ensure balance is achieved and maintained first and foremost. A positive attitude regardless of the situation is never lost by people that have maintained youthfulness.
I have observed people that are 20-years old that are not youthful and lack exuberance and vitality that is expected for that age and stage in life; and I've also known people in their 80's that are so alive and vigorous that it is clear to see that they have maintain their youthful spirit and vigor throughout the weeks, months, years, and decades of their life! It's exciting and beautiful.
Granted, many people lose their youthfulness over the years, not from body deterioration, but from the mental bombardment of stress, disappointment, and not living up to their rigid expectations set early on in their lives. This group of people never learned to "shift-gears" during life's turmoils and therefore they've robbed themselves of the key to happiness which is maintaining youthfulness by ensuring that mental balance is always monitored and nurtured appropriately. Disappointment and stress can turn into anger and depression which can rob one of the joy and energy of life.
I naturally gravitate toward youthful people, meaning chronologically aged between 20 and 100, that hold the treasured key of youthfulness in the core of their beings. I know their stories and some have turmoil, loss, and many unfortunate situations that have occurred in their lives, however, their flexibility and constant monitoring of their mental state, allowed them to endure by making the appropriate changes in their lives to ensure balance is achieved and maintained first and foremost. A positive attitude regardless of the situation is never lost by people that have maintained youthfulness.
The youthful people are recognized quickly by the light in their eyes, the tempo of their dialog, and their "fresh" outlook on all their daily experiences. It's excitement! I do have many friends that are chronologically younger than myself, some by 20-years, and I enjoy sharing time and experiences with them because of their excitement about life that is unjaded, unscripted, spontaneous, positive, and most of all passionate.
I've been told by many recently that there is no way that I'm a 60-year old woman because I look like I'm in my 40's. I believe this to be true only because I have been blessed with the ability to shift gears in times of turmoil and adjust my life accordingly to maintain balance and happiness. Also, I attribute my youthfulness as a vibe in thought, interests, activities, fashion, and the people that I choose to surround myself with.
I recently had lunch with a couple of young woman from work that I wasn't acquainted with prior to our lunch; and after lively discussions on many topics, one of the woman suggested that I start my own blog. Interestingly, her suggestion was just what I've been looking for! An avenue to express myself in an arena where it's apparent that "youthfulness" is one of the major ingredients on the blog site and needed for an audience.
May you all maintain the key to being youthful!
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Friday, October 9, 2009
Quality
I ask you, "When did the quality of shoes and clothing deteriorate to plastic and polyester, respectively"? I've noticed for several years now, that the mass produced women's merchandise found around the country in departments stores has degraded to cheaply made, ill fitting, disposable garbage! For example, I've been searching from New York to Los Angeles for a fashionable, comfortable shoes that are versatile enough to wear to both work and weekend evening wear. I thought when I went to New York in August that I would definitely find a "leather" shoe that would fit this description. Wrong! I searched the entire city, and found mostly plastic man-made materials that I found to be ugly and certainly not comfortable! When I returned to Los Angeles, I searched again and found that most shoes, even the designer shoes, were partially man-made material and some kind of plastic.
When I was a young adult in New York in the late 60's early 70s, I shopped in Manhattan on 34th street and shoe store after shoe store, had shoes that were all leather, and made really well. Bloomingdales had fabulous leather shoes and they were stylish and gorgeous! If you go to Bloomdales now you will find that most of the shoes are partial leather and the rest man-made.
I was also looking for some great tailored light-wool slacks for work, and I looked in Nordstroms recently, and many of the designers are constructing their clothes in polyester.
If you've been paying attention to this trend, you will agree that this has been happening in all of the major department stores including Macy's, Nordstroms, Barney's, and even Saks, over the past decade.
Unfortunately, the middle class woman doesn't have much to choose from in the major department stores across the country. Quality is just not a part of the new millenium!
When I was a young adult in New York in the late 60's early 70s, I shopped in Manhattan on 34th street and shoe store after shoe store, had shoes that were all leather, and made really well. Bloomingdales had fabulous leather shoes and they were stylish and gorgeous! If you go to Bloomdales now you will find that most of the shoes are partial leather and the rest man-made.
I was also looking for some great tailored light-wool slacks for work, and I looked in Nordstroms recently, and many of the designers are constructing their clothes in polyester.
If you've been paying attention to this trend, you will agree that this has been happening in all of the major department stores including Macy's, Nordstroms, Barney's, and even Saks, over the past decade.
Unfortunately, the middle class woman doesn't have much to choose from in the major department stores across the country. Quality is just not a part of the new millenium!
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Never Again, Never Again...
She sat quietly trying not to fidget. Her heart raced and her palms perspired and were cold as dead fish. This has been happening to her for over a decade now, and each time she tries to walk through the feelings bravely.
People surrounded her, rushing in every direction with full focus and intention in their fast strides. “Breath in one, breath out two, breath in three,” she softly repeated to herself.
It was time and she picked herself up out of the chair and walked as steady as she could, wondering if it was written all over her face and body language. She tried to blend, by maneuvering and using the common gestures of those that surrounded her.
The transition was familiar to her. She sat and looked out. “Everything’s OK, Everything’s OK. Please God let me have the middle free,” she murmured. Single file, one by one, they moved before her and moved beyond her. “Thank God, Thank God,” she sighed with some relief. Then there was one more person. “No, no, please keep walking.
P L E A S E keep walking,” she mumbled over and over, with her fists tightly clenched, and every muscle in her body held tight like a guitar string prior to breaking.
He looked like Charlie Manson. His black shoulder length hair was dirty and disheveled, and his clothes were worn, torn, and dirty, as if he had been living in the wilderness for years. His eyes were black piercing spears, and they gave him a wild and insane presence.
Charlie moved into place beside her, in the middle. She placed her head on the cold glass. The speed and vibration took over. It was very loud. Tears began to flow down her face. She looked at Charlie from her peripheral teary eyes, and saw that he was genuflecting the cross with his right hand to his forehead, then his chest, left shoulder, right shoulder, over and over, and at the same time he repeated “Fuck, Fuck, Oh Fuck”!
Faster and faster, higher and higher, tears flowing, genuflection, and Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.
This continued for a good twenty minutes. Then it started. The sound of metal against metal, and the shaking up and down, shaking left and right, shaking, vibration, and noise. She gasped and hugged herself tightly. She lost her breathe and gasped again as the tears flowed into her hyperventilating open mouth. The red light was on. A child was crying loudly, and someone said, “It’s OK, it’s OK.”
Charlie said, “Never again, never again. Oh shit, never again.” At that point she began to tremble uncontrollably. Charlie reached into his pocket and pulled out black rosary beads, and gently placed them in her hand. He called for help. Shake up and down; shake up and down, shake, shake, shake, and the metal grinding. The woman in a white starched shirt stood before them. Charlie asked for a blanket.
He covered her trembling body with the blue blanket. She didn’t say a word. Up and down, shake left, shake right, metal squealing. He told her to hold the rosary beads tightly. He said that he had them his whole life and that they gave him good luck. Her head bobbed in and out on the glass like a buoy in the sea, and she didn’t try to adjust herself for comfort. She followed his instructions and held the rosary beads tightly.
Two hours of shaking, crying, noise, coldness, trembling, genuflecting, and Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. And then it was smooth. Slower, slower, slower, and down, down, down.
She moved her head from the window, and sat up straight and tried to collect her composure. She turned to Charlie and said, “Thank you for taking care of me. You’re a very kind man.” She handed him the black rosary beads. Charlie replied, “We fucking made it, but never again, never again.
People surrounded her, rushing in every direction with full focus and intention in their fast strides. “Breath in one, breath out two, breath in three,” she softly repeated to herself.
It was time and she picked herself up out of the chair and walked as steady as she could, wondering if it was written all over her face and body language. She tried to blend, by maneuvering and using the common gestures of those that surrounded her.
The transition was familiar to her. She sat and looked out. “Everything’s OK, Everything’s OK. Please God let me have the middle free,” she murmured. Single file, one by one, they moved before her and moved beyond her. “Thank God, Thank God,” she sighed with some relief. Then there was one more person. “No, no, please keep walking.
P L E A S E keep walking,” she mumbled over and over, with her fists tightly clenched, and every muscle in her body held tight like a guitar string prior to breaking.
He looked like Charlie Manson. His black shoulder length hair was dirty and disheveled, and his clothes were worn, torn, and dirty, as if he had been living in the wilderness for years. His eyes were black piercing spears, and they gave him a wild and insane presence.
Charlie moved into place beside her, in the middle. She placed her head on the cold glass. The speed and vibration took over. It was very loud. Tears began to flow down her face. She looked at Charlie from her peripheral teary eyes, and saw that he was genuflecting the cross with his right hand to his forehead, then his chest, left shoulder, right shoulder, over and over, and at the same time he repeated “Fuck, Fuck, Oh Fuck”!
Faster and faster, higher and higher, tears flowing, genuflection, and Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.
This continued for a good twenty minutes. Then it started. The sound of metal against metal, and the shaking up and down, shaking left and right, shaking, vibration, and noise. She gasped and hugged herself tightly. She lost her breathe and gasped again as the tears flowed into her hyperventilating open mouth. The red light was on. A child was crying loudly, and someone said, “It’s OK, it’s OK.”
Charlie said, “Never again, never again. Oh shit, never again.” At that point she began to tremble uncontrollably. Charlie reached into his pocket and pulled out black rosary beads, and gently placed them in her hand. He called for help. Shake up and down; shake up and down, shake, shake, shake, and the metal grinding. The woman in a white starched shirt stood before them. Charlie asked for a blanket.
He covered her trembling body with the blue blanket. She didn’t say a word. Up and down, shake left, shake right, metal squealing. He told her to hold the rosary beads tightly. He said that he had them his whole life and that they gave him good luck. Her head bobbed in and out on the glass like a buoy in the sea, and she didn’t try to adjust herself for comfort. She followed his instructions and held the rosary beads tightly.
Two hours of shaking, crying, noise, coldness, trembling, genuflecting, and Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. And then it was smooth. Slower, slower, slower, and down, down, down.
She moved her head from the window, and sat up straight and tried to collect her composure. She turned to Charlie and said, “Thank you for taking care of me. You’re a very kind man.” She handed him the black rosary beads. Charlie replied, “We fucking made it, but never again, never again.
Falling or Flying
Remembering the freedom
when your arms were easily
guided by the undercurrent
of my flight.
Ah, the softness of your voice
blended with the wind,
was the music of my soul
under my spread wings.
And the wind lifted us high,
where we viewed the sun
sprinkling the sea with crystals,
illuminating the route to Morro Castle.
Your beautiful hands held
the dandelion as we danced
on the edge of the wind,
and we both watched in wonder.
You held me close
and lightly brushed my hair aside,
and you gently whispered,
“Are we falling or flying”?
when your arms were easily
guided by the undercurrent
of my flight.
Ah, the softness of your voice
blended with the wind,
was the music of my soul
under my spread wings.
And the wind lifted us high,
where we viewed the sun
sprinkling the sea with crystals,
illuminating the route to Morro Castle.
Your beautiful hands held
the dandelion as we danced
on the edge of the wind,
and we both watched in wonder.
You held me close
and lightly brushed my hair aside,
and you gently whispered,
“Are we falling or flying”?