He’s Still Here, A Warrior’s Tribute

by Dana Taylor

Dedicated to My Dad, Dale Rojas



The old man stumbles, about to fall.

To strangers he’s barely a man, no one at all.

Just a stick figure, bent and confused,

Society’s discard in the heap of refuse.

His speech is garbled, a childish babble,

One more elder in the crowd of old rabble.

But look beyond the deterioration.

Old bones once defended a nation.

See in his eyes the trace of the soldier.

The body is aged, but the spirit no older.

Before the years of wife, children and work,

He reported for duty he never would shirk.

Marching from home at the outbreak of war,

He traveled to lands never seen much before.

A callow recruit full of bluster and youth,

He fought for liberty, freedom and truth.

The sights that he saw brought shock and dismay,

Burned into his memory day after day.

A boy caught in battle, unsure and green,

Transformed through war to a mighty Marine.

Forever changed, forever the fighter,

Now time is the enemy, it pulls the noose tighter.

He faces life with a warrior’s heart.

Each day is a battle, right from the start.

He won’t give in to helpless despair,

Won’t use a cane or a smooth wheeling chair.

His walk may wobble as he strolls round the block.

His fierce independence comes as a shock.

The old man knows death, struggle and fear.

Look closely, you’ll see, the Marine is still here

He’s Still Here Copyright © 2004 Dana Taylor. All Rights Reserved


Ever-Flowing Streams: Christ, Reiki, Reincarnation & Me



How The OKC Bombing Affected Me

April 19, 1995, 9:02 am ~ Edmond, OK

Crack…the walls of my home shudder. I think, Something terrible just happened.


This weekend marks twenty years since the Oklahoma City Bombing of the Murrah Building heralded a new era of  global terrorism. At the time I was a suburban housewife, raising my family in a “safe” little community, in a “safe” state (not counting the tornadoes.)

The days and weeks that followed the bombing impacted all the residents of the city, profoundly. We walked around in shock, crying or numb. Forever changed.

Personally, the bombing tumbled my world view. But not necessarily in a bad way. It certainly wiped out my illusion of living in a “safe” bubble of geography. Until that time, terrorism was a remote problem in foreign countries. A bomb going off in a Middle East cafe, taking out innocent bystanders, brought only a mild shrug. 

I had no compassion. No empathy. American middle class me, could not identify.

After Oklahoma City, I could feel the pain. I understood the shock and anguish of 911. I recognized those desperate souls holding up pictures captioned Have You See Her? They were my people.

Since then, I’ve felt the pain for the families of people caught up in global massacres, disasters, and tragedies profoundly in my heart.

The illusion of my safe, insulated life was forever stripped away, but I gained global awareness. We are all in this thing called life together. Terrible things are going to happen. How do we respond?

There are no easy answers. But, compassion is a good beginning. In small ways, I’ve tried to make my corner of the world a kinder, more loving place. 

Perhaps, the prayer of St. Francis of Assisi is the best response we can take to honor lost loved ones and create hope for the future.

Prayer of St. Francis

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy;

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.



Dana Taylor



No Sissies Allowed

Merry Christmas from Dana and Gracie

Merry Christmas from Dana and Gracie

Bette Davis said, “Getting old isn’t for sissies.” While I don’t think I yet qualify as “old,” (whenever that is), I have passed through many of life’s stages. A year ago I was experiencing my first Christmas as a widow. I’d had a nice Thanksgiving with my daughters, but they had flown home by early December. I needed to have a quiet time put an end to My Goodbye Year (see post of 12/2013).

I pulled out a long-neglected manuscript (Proud Heart), and dove into one of the first stories I had written. I cleaned up some newbie-writing problems and enjoyed re-discovering my characters. The inspiration for the heroine had been my Grandma Rose. I am glad I finally published her story.PH WEB medium

2014 was a year of new birth. In February, almost exactly a year from the passing of my husband, David, our younger daughter, Cary, gave birth to Noah David in Hawaii. Noah 3 months After spending nearly a month in the Manoa Valley helping shepherd Noah into the world, I returned to my solitary existence in California. I now had three grandchildren, two in Missouri and one in Hawaii. I took stock of my life. The California house had been in my family since 1963. It was comfortable, but it was mighty lonely. I could spend years as my father and grandmother had done, living alone and waiting for people to visit. Oh, I had friends and many activities, but home is where the heart is and those grandkids are my joy. Carnival

FrontSo, I prayed and asked for a LOT of help to ready the house for sale and start a new chapter of life. My spiritual helpers were on it. A friendly, helpful , professional realtor came my way. (You’re the best Tom Fosmire!) A great handyman, Ron, appeared to patch, paint, and repair all the little upgrades needed to make the house market-worthy. Closets were cleaned, several lifetimes of photographs shipped to Missouri, and the barest of personal belongings kept.  Several friends helped with the obligatory garage sale in July.  By September a young couple ready to begin their life together had made an offer and I walked out of the carved wooden front  door for the last time.

First stop was Missouri, where my cat and I settled into the top floor of my daughter and son-in-law’s lovely house. Iphone_backup_Oct_2014 305  It’s a big house and I’ve been happy to pitch in with housekeeping chores, cooking, and child care.  I’ve read the first three Harry Potter books aloud to six-year-old Will and specialize in funny faces in the mirror before tucking him into bed.

Several outdoor cats provide much feline drama and entertainment. Girls I enjoyed the colors of fall and the first dusting of snow. Iphone_backup_Oct_2014 424 I will enjoy my first Missouri Christmas and after the New Year I will be heading to Hawaii to ride out the winter in the tropics with Baby Noah. Daan and Noah at zoo

I don’t feel old, but I do sense that every day is a gift and each year passes quickly. I begin each morning in prayer and meditation, sending love to friends, family, and the world. I ask for guidance and my spiritual “team” steers me in the paths I take. I am amazed at the grace I receive.

2015 is bound to be full of surprises. Where will I live? Will I make new friends? How will I lead the most meaningful life? Whatever happens, I am counting on Spirit to give me the courage I need to embrace challenges and definitely not be a “sissy.”

Blessings to all for the Holidays—

Dana Taylor


Enjoy my holiday stories

ALGsi2l        holidaymedium



The Final Fourth of July

Jul4I was ten years old the first time I celebrated the Fourth of July in my California home. With a backyard pool and neighborhood fireworks permitted, our house became the Fourth Party Place for half a century. Once upon a time, I was the kid jumping in the deep end, swimming to grandmothers, aunts, and uncles. Years later, my mother taught my children how to swim in the shallow end. This year, I was the “Nina” catching children  and going round in circles (“motor boat, motor boat go so fast.”)

This Fourth was busy, noisy, and merry. But, most days it’s gotten very quiet. Too quiet. The aunts and uncles are gone. Mom, Dad, the grandparents–all swimming in that great pool in the sky. My own grand kids live thousands of miles away. Going to Nina’s house isn’t exactly over the river and through the woods. It requires stop overs and lots of  travel money.

JulyEarlier this year I came to the decision it was time to give up the family homestead and move on. It’s one more adjustment to being part of The Widow’s Club. So I’m packing up, selling off, and hoping for great adventures ahead. First stop will be St. Louis and settling into a space at Daughter #1’s house. Come the height of winter, you’ll probably be able to find me in Hawaii with Daughter #2. Sounds pretty sweet, doesn’t it?

Reiki healing energy travels well. I’m sure clients will be led to my door wherever I go. Maybe I’ll even start a new book or two.

I am blessed to have friends in so many places–from sea to shining sea. I look forward to visiting many of you–and making new friends along the way.

Blessings to all–

Dana Taylor

Hawaiian Cemetery’s Unique Energy Vortex

ChineseHanging out in Hawaii has definite advantages – tropical breezes, fish tacos, beautiful birds, interesting hiking opportunities. Yesterday I set off to visit one of my favorite spots– the enchanting Monoa Chinese Cemetery.  As I trudged up the hillside surrounded by headstones etched in Chinese characters,weathered with age, the place seemed to be welcoming me back.

photo-11The history of the MCC fascinates me. A black marble tablet etched in gold letters tells the story of a Chinese worker named Lum Ching, a Feng Shui Master.  He used “magic” instruments to measure the magnetic energy of the earth. Around 1850 he discovered the “chi” of the Monoa Valley was captured and heightened in a certain area. He declared, “We are at an extraordinary spot. It is the pulse of the watchful dragon of the valley. People will come from across the seas and gather here to pay homage. Birds, too, will come to sing and roost. It is a haven suitable for the living as well as the dead. The Chinese people must buy this area and keep it as sacred ground.”

The Lin Yee Chung Association was formed to purchase land. By 1896, 27 acres had been acquired. A perpetual charter was granted by the Kingdom of Hawaii in 1889.


Today the graves  are looked over by a massive banyan tree planted 100 years ago by a relative of Lum Ching to honor his final resting place at the top of the hill. While the cemetery is quiet during the day, it is often busy at night as tourists are led to the tree on a haunted tour of Honolulu. A few years ago my Supernal friend, Paula, took the tour and had an amazing experience inside the banyan tree. Patterns of lightning-like energy was picked up by several cameras. She heard voices in the tree that evening.

Here are a couple of the fascinating pictures caught of Paula as she prayed standing in the heart of the banyan tree.

Paula 2 Paula1

I didn’t hear anything but the singing of birds on my trip yesterday, but the feeling of peace and love was palpable. Beneath the canopy of the banyan tree, I gazed to the horizon, past the Honolulu skyline, clear to the aqua sea. Events of my life played in my mind; loved ones here and on the otherside painted through memory like a water-colored mural by Monet.

photo-12Using the Lord’s Prayer to open my chakras, I felt the expansion of my energy centers and allowed the special frequency of the MCC “chi” to swirl into my auric field. Cleansing, healing, empowering.

Though not as well known as Sedona and Stonehenge, the Monoa Chinese Cemetery is another unique energy vortex where earth opens a door to heaven.

Listen to Paula talk about her experience on a Supernal Friends POD Cast #2






Bring a lift to your spirits with one of my books — Visit the Dana Taylor Books and Bio Page Tapping400

My Goodbye Year

Dana  by Dana Taylor

I awakened to the quietest Christmas morning ever. My parents are long-gone. I’m no longer anyone’s darling daughter. My own daughters are young women now, nurturing their budding families. No husband greeted me on Christmas morning with fresh coffee and a new bottle of perfume. He suddenly departed in a car accident last February. My starring role as wife has played out. Even my identity as pet owner disappeared recently. My cat died at Thanksgiving. Enough already.

photo (3)I gazed out the bedroom window. A bright Southern California sun promised record-breaking high temperatures. Chirping birds appeared to be my most lively company. I threw off the covers, pulled on a Christmas sweatshirt and took myself off to duck pond park.

As I circled the water, I reflected on my year of goodbyes. Twelve months earlier, I’d anticipated 2013 with trepidation. The dreaded third year of the decade. All lives have patterns. To get the big picture, read Gregg Braden’s Fractal Time. It might change your life. If you live long enough and pay attention, you might figure out your key patterns. By 2003, I’d realized the third year of every decade brings illness, change, and often, death.

2003 was one of the most miserable years of my life. My Dad’s stroke irrevocably changed both our lives, forever. I hated leaving my family in Oklahoma and becoming his full time caregiver in California. On the outside, I appeared to be quite gracious about it, but inside I railed at losing my independence and the family life I had created. Of course, it was no picnic for Dad either. We struggled against the sudden restrictions and emerging new roles of disabled man and caretaker daughter. Yet, within the crucible of that difficult year, we both became better people. He revealed memories long buried. I was given the gift of really getting to know my father. My ego took a good bashing, which was a painful, but ultimately liberating experience. Once I surrendered to the changes of 2003, I found peace again.

 Fast forward ten years. So much has happened in a decade. Between Reiki, prayer, meditation and numerous attunements, I perceive the world very differently. My intuition is much keener. I knew 2013 would be a year of departures and transitions. The first came on Christmas Day 2012 when my motherly mentor, Jeanie, went to be with Jesus on his birthday. Nobody loved Jesus like Jeanie. I’m sure He welcomed her with open arms.

I also sensed Christmas of 2012 would be my last holiday season with my husband. I didn’t let a moment go by unnoticed. I stored up the last conversations, the final smiles, the last date night in my mind to recall and relish. His final act of mailing a Valentine card to me before smashing his car in a construction zone, was heart-wrenching and wonderful at the same time.

The deaths kept coming– a childhood friend, close relatives of close friends. Last month, after great struggle, my dear mother-in-law finally passed over. Even my best feline pal, Buddy, had to leave me. I’d known his health was failing and his death could have been very depressing. Yet, his timing was perfect. He hung on until my family came into town for Thanksgiving. The morning when his breath grew short, I carried him out to his favorite chaise lounge in the backyard. I prayed over him and he simply let go. We buried him in his favorite garden spot.

 The lessons of 2003 served me well for 2013.

  • Surrender–Don’t fight fate. Events are only bad if you perceive them that way. Instead of fighting the currents of change, survival may mean going with the flow. Surrender to sadness when it rises up. Let it flow and wash away.
  • Accept Grace–Spirit is always on hand to help through the hard times. The outpouring of emotional, financial, and practical support after my husband’s death came from many directions. My husband helped many people during his lifetime. They stepped forward to assist me for his sake and for mine.
  • Welcome Change–The seasons of life are ever-evolving. Remember the past fondly, but relish the adventures of the future. Keep growing, learning, and transforming.

2014 promises to be a time of new beginnings. New babies on the way! Our younger daughter, Cary, will give birth to her first baby almost a year to the day of her dad’s departure. New nieces and nephews are on the horizon.

Two new books are emerging from the depths of my creative subconscious. New clients and friends are finding their way to my doorstep.

Farewell to the Goodbye Year, ring in the Hello Year. The best is yet to come. (Maybe I’ll even get a new kitty.)

Happy New Year–

Dana Taylor

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