Browsed by
Month: June 2016

Don’t Make Me Come into That Cockpit and Fly this Plane For You

Don’t Make Me Come into That Cockpit and Fly this Plane For You

Comments 0 Comment

I am a real globe trotter, I travel almost every chance I get. In just the last few years I have been to Kenya, China, India, Italy, Iceland, France, Japan… So, it might come as surprise to y’all that  I really don’t like flying at all, in the past I was down right terrified. No, it never really stopped me from getting on a plane, I love to travel after all, but I did manage to worry the whole flight long that that huge hunk of metal would fall from the sky. To be fair, I didn’t really care for driving much either, but at least when I drove, I was driving. With the plane all I could do was sit in my seat and mutter prayers under my breath hoping that my will, the power of my mind, alone could keep the plane aloft.  Unless of course…

I was talking to Mae Yo and Neecha one day about my fear of flying. A bit of probing and prodding and out came the real question. Do I really think I could fly the plane better than the pilots? I stopped in my tracks —  the extent of my flying experience was the old space invaders video game — of course I would not be better off if I were the one flying the plane. Still though, a part of me, on some level thought, if I were in control, if I were the one flying, the experience wouldn’t be so scary. Why else would I be doing all that prayer muttering? Moreover, I saw that I wanted to know, I wanted to see, I thought if I was aware what was going on it would be OK. But since all that flying is happening behind the sealed cockpit door it is an unknown and, by definition, scary by nature.

With a little more thought  I realized that before the plane story, I had begun to grapple with the limitations of my control –I couldn’t control my friend Sue, my teeth, my body or my phone –I just can’t control everything. Still, I had the sneaking suspicion that if I could control something I should control it since I would be better off for having done so. Plus,  if I just knew what was going on I would be safe. But could that really be some immutable fact? If I were flying the plane would me, or the rest of the passengers,  be better off?  If I was standing over the pilot’s’ shoulder, watching — knowing — their every move ( How can my husband say I’m a  backseat driver) could I rest easy assured I would have a safe flight?   

I saw that when I fly the best I can do is exercise my limited control. I can pick reputable airlines, buckle my safety belt and maybe sit in the exit row if the seat  is free. But after that, I need to accept the risk and the fact that it’s not something I’m in control of and that it actually wouldn’t be better if I were.  The risk, in fact was part of my decision to travel, it’s built into the trip and the activity I love so much –but that is a topic that came a little bit later in my practice.

Get your Grimey Hands off my Teacup

Get your Grimey Hands off my Teacup

Comments 3 comments

The reason I chose this story to share is it uses one of my all-time favorite contemplation methods. The method comes directly from a teaching Luang Por Thoon gave to a man named Singh that quickly led to his enlightenment.  The method is essentially asking a series of questions about objects we ‘own’ in order to better understand the nature of the objects (impermanent) and our relationship with those objects (also impermanent) and, in the process, to  weaken  our attachment to them. Basically, we have a bunch of stuff that we use while we are in this world, but it doesn’t actually belong to us, it is not stuff we ultimately own or control, it’s not like we can take it with us when we die. We work so hard to get ‘our’ things, we work hard to keep them, we mourn when they are gone. Because we are deluded, we believe these things will serve us as we imagine they will,  permanently, and our misunderstanding drives us to continue accumulating, to come back for more lifetime after lifetime and with each life, with each scavenger hunt for things, we suffer the pains of being disappointed by the limitations of these objects, the pain of getting them, the pain of trying to preserve them and the pain of their loss. . . Without further ado, the questions*:  

  1. Where did the item come from
  2. Think about the item leaving you
  3. Think about leaving the item behind
  4. How do you control the item
  5. How does the item control you

The Story:

I get to the 2012 KPY retreat and on my first night I grab a cup from the kitchen. I wash it SUPER well and then I tape a note on the cup, “Alana’s Cup, do not clean, I will reuse teabag”. Sounds very eco of me right? Conserving and all, who can argue with what a great person I am being? The real reason —  I do not want to to share cups with other folks at the retreat, I don’t want their germs, their disease. So clearly, if I just take a cup and make it ‘mine’ with this simple sticky note, I will be safe from all those dirty grimey folks licking-up on my cup and making me sick. My cup is, by definition, cleaner and safer than ya’lls cups (even though I kept forgetting it outside and there is some possibility all manner of bug and vermin were crawling-up in it –wait how is the plague spread again?). Clearly, this is all very sane ;)…

So, let’s start with the idea that the cup is mine (I did label it after all) and get down to our questions:

  1. Where did the cup come from? The cup came from the KPY kitchen. Someone may have donated it, KPY may have bought it, some other person whose cup it was may have brought it on retreat and left it behind. Before that the cup came from some store, before that some factory. Someone labored to make the cup, manufacture it, the clay that made-up the cup was molded, shaped. Before that it came from the ground…  When exactly did the cup become mine? In fact, when exactly did the cup become a cup instead of a lump of clay? Why would I believe that a sticky note (which was written in my super illegible handwriting, in English, at a retreat where most folk’s first language is Thai) made it mine. Made it so others would know not to use ‘my cup’ and my cup would know not to run -off with some other thirsty person…
  • How can the cup leave me? The cup actually did leave me several times on retreat –I kept forgetting it outside. Sure I managed to recover it each time, but was the cup mine when it was lost? What if it broke? Would it still be mine..would each piece be mine? What if someone took the sticky note off of it –that sticky seemed to have the magical power to make the cup mine so did its removal return it to the status of KPY community cup?
  1. How can I leave the cup? Clearly I could leave the retreat center, so was I going to take the cup with me? Was I actually going to steal a KPY cup because I had convinced myself, with that all powerful note and a little effort of a good scrubbing, that the cup was mine? Or, I could be out in the woods, get attacked by a bear (that was attracted by the sweet smell of my delicious tea) and die — I guess I wouldn’t really need the cup then…
  • How do I control the cup? Thats easy, I can wash it, label it, carry it around, drink from it, play mini drums on it, I can do anything I want right? Because it’s just an object and an object that’s mine! Well, maybe I can’t do anything with it, I can’t make it sprout wings and fly after all, but of course I am the person and the cup is a cup, I must be in control. Right? Well, not so fast…
  • How does the cup control me? Once I make that cup ‘mine’ suddenly I have a responsibility, a burden. I have to carry it around (so no one takes it –clearly even I don’t believe my note is enough), I have to wash it, I have to make sure my sticky isn’t chipping off. When I lost the cup I had to retrace my steps, one time I had to walk halfway down the mountain, to retrieve it. I felt slightly self conscious about the cup, about labeling it, so I both wanted folks to see the label but I also wanted to hide it as best I could. I had to worry –should I take the cup back to the tent? I know food in the tent is a no-no because of bears…can they smell tea?

What are the risks of all this craziness? Someone could see the label and be offended by it, I could create disharmony in the community. Perhaps I lose the cup carrying it around, or someone who needs a cup to drink from can’t find one since I have raided the kitchen for ‘mine’.  

More dangerous still though is that I feed the control monster — I reinforce this idea that I am empowered, I can control risk by having my own cup (cup=control). I can avoid all the death and disease out there that is lurking behind every corner just ready to get me.  I create a false sense of safety , built on a false understanding of the nature of ‘my cup’, rather than dealing with the fact that diseases spread and I am subject to them with or without a cup.

Plus, what does ‘after me’ really mean? Is disease after me? Is impermanence a personal affront that with enough effort (and some teacups) I can control? LP Nut helped me immensely with this contemplation…he taught me  the method of  “Killing the Hope”. (Lucky luck, we have a twofer here –two methods, for the price of one story). As  he explained it,  I need to look at the world, look who out there is exempt from death and disease and loss. Gather the evidence and determine whether or not I can control or change these things, exempt myself, or whether they are realities that need to be accepted. I.e. I need to kill the hope that I can escape impermanence so that I can accept.  So here are a few highlights of my evidence:

  1. I, unlike my husband at the time, vigilantly watch what I eat and exercise  –my blood sugar is a little high and his is just fine, all my control is not yielding the results I desire.
  2. I was considering taking a yellow fever vaccine for some travel, my Dr. recommended against it. Why? Because a number of folks have gotten the vaccine and actually gotten yellow fever from it. Guess control wasn’t working for them either.
  3. As hard as I diet and exercise I still feel fat most of the time
  4. I wash my hands obsessively, but I still manage to get sick
  5. I hired financial advisors to help manage and control my money and then I still lost money the last time the markets dipped
  6. I went to Italy for an easy, risk free, vacation and ended up getting food poisoning
  7. I went on birth control to manage pregnancy and menstrual symptoms but it caused me weight gain
  8. Despite all my lotions and potions I am starting to get wrinkles and grey hair
  9. Once I graduated university I had to leave all my friends and my university life behind even though I did not want to
  10. My father died
  11. My cat died
  12. My friend Sue gained weight even though I tried to ‘help her’ avoid it
  13. I lost faith in my Vajrayana practice even though I worked so hard at it, chanted hundreds of thousands of mantras and meditated every day
  14. This actor I really liked, played Spartacus on TV. He was so talented and crazy fit/beautiful. He was diagnosed with a rare cancer just when his acting career began to take off. At first they said it was highly treatable and then, he died from complications
  15. I tried to control my teeth, prevent pain, by getting crowns and then the crowns ended up causing me pain

Gathering all this evidence (there was actually even more, but I won’t bore you)  was what helped the pieces started coming together, when I started seeing the limitations of my control and the fact that sometimes I can’t just fight, I need to accept.  My next few stories will take up this theme further.

I also want to say that, mostly, at the time of this contemplation my focus was on impermanence, on my wrong views regarding control and disease/unwanted outcomes. Contemplating on the cup, realizing my relationship with it and its abilities to fight disease were not fixed, were a backdoor into considering my control of death and disease more broadly. In other words, I used an analysis of my crazy view that I control the cup and use it like a talisman to ward off disease, in order to consider the broader questions of whether disease is something within my complete power to avoid . But now, reviewing and rewriting this story I see so much more fruit here sooo…. I am going to write this later addition synopsis concerning ownership, which is another potential aspect of the teacup contemplation. Though this does not follow my contemplation timeline,  I think it will help clarify and make this entry richer. So I am going to use that ‘blogger’s prerogative’ and fill-in the lines a bit more on the topic of owning (plus..this is how my practice works, back over the same stories, the same themes, getting deeper and richer over time):

We get so caught-up buying things, owning things, thinking they are ours –we don’t notice these items totally manipulate us, they bully us, they force our hands all the time. Like with the teacup, it’s easy at first to say I’m in control, the cup makes my life better, more convenient, safe from the disease I fear. Or that, with my extensive wardrobe, I can define who I am, shape my identity and make it real. But from the get-go the items are in charge. I seek them out, it’s not like the cup labeled itself or my clothes hop into the shopping cart on their own. I pay for them with money or elbow grease. I need to care for the items, to clean them, to interact with the items on their  terms if I have any desire to retain and preserve them  (if it’s breakable I have to handle with care, if it’s white fabric I have to be so careful about stains, when a part or a gear wears out I must replace it, when the car needs gas I have to stop what I am doing and feed it).

Trust this fashionista, once I have found that perfect purse I have to have it (it’s like it calls to me from across the store). I spend hard earned money on it  and then  I worry constantly about keeping it nice. When it finally does wear out, or goes out of fashion, I need one that’s just as good or better..it’s not like I’m going to go from carrying a Chanel purse to something from the Gap..I have standards after all.  And those standards, they came from the Chanel bag (my misunderstanding of it anyway), from the wardrobe I have built that matches that bag, so really, who is in charge?

Even more subtly still, these items, each one, we obtain to solve a problem. I need a cup to keep me disease free. I need a bag to carry all my other stuff, I need an accessory to match my clothes, I need a thing I wear to make other folks think I’m pretty and fashionable (that I am a person who is in control of my super buttoned-up image). And in return for a problem patch I get an item that creates a bunch more problems — gives me new responsibilities, sets new standards, makes me dependent,  plants the seed for the ‘need’ for more new items in the future. And does the item even solve the problem I think it solves? If so, for how long? Can a cup keep me disease free? Can a purse make you see me as beautiful or polished or in control?  So is an item we can’t control really ours? How much do we pay, how much do we suffer, for the privilege of fake owning it for some limited time?

* I have actually see multiple versions of the questions that go with this story. Here I have the ones I used for this contemplation.

I Just Bought This Piece of Junk…How Can It Be Broken Already?

I Just Bought This Piece of Junk…How Can It Be Broken Already?

Comments 0 Comment

My cell phone died. I dropped it on the street and when I picked it up I couldn’t get it to start again. It was an older model, had served me well for a few years. I knew it would be a pain to replace (have you ever been to a Verizon store?), it would take time to reload it with all my aps, with the cute icons and live wallpapers that made the thing ‘mine’, but it was alright, I knew it was time.

I got my new phone…spent the money, spent the time…1 day later, the phone stops working and I was so annoyed. I tried all the usual techniques, I surgically removed the battery, restarted, reboot. But nothing, dead. I think to myself..hows this possible?

A Little Background: Around the same time as this I was having stomach problems. One afternoon I went to the bathroom and out came a ton of blood. Between that and the pain I was having, my Dr. thought it was best to get a colonoscopy and rule-out stomach cancer or inflammatory conditions. I was so scared, scared of the procedure and even more scared of the cancer or serious disease. Plus, how is it possible, someone so young (early 30s) getting cancer or other crazy broken diseases?

As I was looking down at the dead phone, I realized, it was exactly like me. It is like my body, a tool, a device I need to get by in this world. I imagine that it’s something I own, I control, but in reality it can control me. It breaks and I need to run and replace it, find a way to fix it. When my body breaks there are surgeries, pills or a new birth to replace it. I invest so much time and energy in the phone, I make it mine with icons and ornaments, I imagine, like I do about my body, that it reflects “me”, my personality, my unique specialness.

Of course, I’m not a fool, I know phones break and people die. When it happens at the right time — when I dictate it is acceptable, when it aligns with my perception of how the world is supposed to work, when it retains my perception of control — it’s sad but OK. But this new phone, my stomach issues, it was evidence that duration is not certain, not under my control.

It’s easy to see once or twice or 10 times that control is limited, things are uncertain, but my mind is so used to its habits of thought; the same wrong concept will hide in slightly different permutations, different twists. So this story here showed me a new fact to consider, a different misunderstanding of impermanence that I needed to correct — I had to see impermanence  is something that exists ‘out there’ and does not abide by my terms, my expectations of when cessation, brokenness, death, is acceptable and when it is not.

In the end I was able to exchange the phone for a new one, manufacturer’s defect. I had the colonoscopy and turns out I had hemorrhoids and IBS, no warranty on the body so I just have to live with the broken parts.

 

I Rather be Doing ANYTHING Other Than Having a Root Canal

I Rather be Doing ANYTHING Other Than Having a Root Canal

Comments 0 Comment

OK a little warning: This post is a little more technical/boringly written in an effort to more clearly show the structure of my thinking. However, it does deal well with the key cause (wrong view) of fears and phobias –the crazy belief that what has happened to in the past/what we imagine is an indicator of what will happen in the future. Spoiler alert: it’s not, too much changes, all the time… So anyway, if you can stay awake, it may just be worth the read ;).

I Rather be Doing ANYTHING Other Than Having a Root Canal:

Step 1, Story/Situation:  I have spent most of my life in absolute dread of the dentist. I mean horror movie-like scenes  played in my head at the mere mention of the word. When I was a kid, I had a sadistic dentist and when he was angry, annoyed, or just having a good time, he would drill my lips and gums ‘accidentally’ when filling cavities. Needless to say, once I was an adult, I avoided the dentist like the plague.  This strategy worked great, till it didn’t, and I started having pretty intense pain in a back molar.

One night, I go to the Temple in a panic, I clearly needed to go to the dentist, but I was so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so afraid. Help!! Mae Yo and Phra Anan came to the rescue and started talking me through the crazy and fixed ideas (i.e. permanent so by definition wrong views) I had in my head that were clearly creating suffering (the unique type of suffering that arises from not having paid a visit to a dentist in 15 years…). Here is what I began to see:

Step 2. Wrong Views: My wrong view of the situation

a) That the dentist is always scary/painful

b) That my past bad experiences with the dentist will be mirrors for my future experiences — to convince myself that this was wrong, I did a little exercise; I considered all the ways I could think of that this experience would actually be different from when I was a kid. For example, now I’m an adult, before I was a child. This is a different dentist, in a different city, the old dentist is dead already (though zombie dentist would be in keeping with the horror movie dentist I had been imagining for 15 years). Dental technology has changed. My pain tolerance and perception has changed. In essence a ton of stuff had changed. This exercise, which Mae Yo walked me through, began loosening the gripping belief that underlaid my phobia –I had one bad experience and now they will all be the same. Even though, factors and conditions had already changed.

c) That I can predict  what will be painful/the source of my suffering

Step 3 Concepts: The deeper concepts or beliefs that underlie this particular (and many other) stories

a) That a particular stimulus will yield predictable results. In truth, there is uncertainty. No stimulus (like a dentist visit) is ever exactly the same as a previous one (circumstances constantly change) so there is no guarantee that results will be the same. Plus, I am not all knowing, so I don’t have the power to fully understand all the causes, how could I predict results with 100% certainty?

b) That a past experience is a credible indicator for what will happen in the future. That I know what to expect. In reality I have experiences all the time that I then try to replicate and am unable to do so. This idea is actually one I consider all the time with food. If I go to a restaurant and have the best pizza, best ice cream, can I go back and get it again? If I do go back, and the dish is still there, I notice sometimes the flavors change, the cooking changes, its better or worse than before.

c) That something being a certain way means it will always be that way. All things in fact cease. As such  they can never always be the same

Floater Step, More Stories, More Evidence:  More Story: This set of contemplations, plus the throbbing pain in my tooth, were enough to get me into the dentist’s office. As it turned-out, I needed 4 crowns and elected to have all the work done under a mild sedative. The procedure, from my doped-out perspective, was over in a minute and involved absolutely no pain. So me and the dentist lived happily ever after…

But actually, there was more to it, the next day I went to eat solid food and each chew was agony… I went back to the dentist and the crown didn’t quite fit. It took several more visits before it finally did and the chewing pain ceased.  In addition to several more trips to the dentist, my post procedure experience exposed a new wrong view and gave me more evidence to consider. I originally worried only about pain during the procedure, I had no concern at all about  pain afterwards. Once I had pain afterwards, I suffered a new wrong view (actually, you may notice it is just a different version of the previous concept that my past bad experiences predict the future)  that once I had pain I would have pain and suffer with it for a long time. That it would be hard to fix. In reality, a few trips to adjust the crown brought my pain to an end.

When I really thought it through, I saw that my beliefs about pain, fear, the stuff I worry about, they were not entirely accurate. After all had they been I would have hurt in the dentist’s chair and been fine after. Once I wasn’t fine, I would be in pain forever. Fortunately, I managed to escape eternal pain, this time around. Step 4, Suffering: But, all the suffering I managed to create around one little trip to the dentist, was pretty epic in scale. There was the physical pain of my tooth ache, the worry about going to the dentist, the worry afterwards that the pain from the crown would never get fixed. There was my sour attitude toward my family, toward the dentist and his staff –I was so busy being immersed in my fear I had no concern for anyone else. There was also the very clear consequences of my wrong view that prevented me from going to the dentist in the first place — years of refusing to go for even a cleaning probably contributed to the state of decay my teeth were in.

Step 5, Dharma: Later blogs will have much more detail about  the aggregates, which is a major ‘dharma idea’ about what makes-up our ‘self’. If this does not compute now, fear not, it will later. But Rupa, or form, was the first topic given to me for contemplation, the only thing I considered deeply, though weakly, in this early period of practice. It is the outside world trappings (i.e. not stuff in my head) that provides the foundations for all the drama imaginings that ensued. In this story, we have my body, my teeth, the dentist, the dentist office with its machines and funky chair, etc. My memory and association of each of these material things triggered an imagination, built on memories, that prompted my fear.

Method to Undo the Madness

Method to Undo the Madness

Comments 0 Comment

For me, one of the most empowering aspects of the Dharma approach taught by Luang Por Thoon’s students is the use of methods, tools, to structure my practice. Though I incorporate many different tools into my contemplations (I will call-out a few special ones in some of these blogs), there has been one in particular that has supported almost all of my contemplations —  this method, which I will outline here, was adopted from what I understood from a teaching by Mae Yo and LP Anan at the 2010 KPY retreat. I suspect I have changed it, altered it, made it workable for my own thinking style. It is simply a series of  5 questions/steps as seen below.

The reason I share this with you is not to dazzle you with technique or bore you with details .It’s because one of the greatest assets in my dharma practice has been a notebook and a system, some kind of outline to put down on a blank page to get me started. Then whenever I  have felt sad, angry, afraid stressed, etc. (which is actually a little dashboard warning light that I have a wrong view), I could just pick-up a pen and paper and start working some predefined steps till something shook loose. This has really helped me train myself to be systematic, organized, fast and structured in my thinking and I have been rewarded for that effort with clarity, progress, and alleviation of stress and suffering. So without further ado… the 5 steps:

1) Tell the story or situation. Make it elaborate. Spill what’s in my head so that I can read it for clues about what the real issues are. Back in the day I used to go back to all the permanent words in my story (always, never, must be, can’t fail,  etc.) and underline them as a starting place.

2) Find the wrong views in the situation. What is it that I believe that is contrary to the actual impermanent nature of the world. I can look for things that surprise me (showing me what I expect must be permanent or I wouldn’t be surprised by a different outcome), things I want to control, things that I think are/should always be a certain way.

3) Find the concepts. This is where I peel away the specific details of a situation and find the  themes that underlie the wrong views in # 2. This step is critical because these themes tend to come-up again and again in our lives, by learning to strip away details we can see patterns much more effectively.  So, in Sue’s story for example, one of my wrong views is if Sue loves me she will lose weight. Some of the  wrong concepts behind this include: people all express love the same way, or there is a necessary  link between people’s feelings and their actions, or being loved gives the beloved control. There are more…

4) Identify the Tuk, Tok, Bie, or the risks, suffering and consequences. These are basically the bundle of unpleasantness that comes from my wrong views and the behaviors, beliefs and situations that those views give rise to. They can affect affect me and affect others.  Sometimes, especially at first, it was hard to see “suffering” —  that seemed like something that is happening to those starving kids in Africa, not to me in my charmed SF hipster life. So instead, I started by  think of the costs/tradeoffs, what I pay (not just in money but in time, in loss, in emotion, in effort, in risk, etc.) in exchange for holding these wrong views and the behaviors, situations and beliefs that they give rise to. For me, it’s very very easy to see that everything in this world has costs. The better I get at seeing them, the easier it is to decide whether I’m willing to continue paying them or not. Is it worth it?

5) Find the Dharma. This is the step where I apply all this to the dharma concepts I am currently contemplating. Stuff like rupa (form), self and self belonging, the four elements, the 8 worldly conditions, karma, etc. At first I found this hard, I really didn’t understand any of these things, so I  just did a  quick pass mostly considering form (rupa) and checked it off the list. Eventually, this step gave me a place to add details, it evolved naturally over time because –and this is critical– seeing the impermanence and the suffering is in fact seeing the dharma. Doing that over and over helped clarify these other fancy ideas, it brought them to my mind naturally (or my teachers nudged me a little, but because I had practice seeing the impermanence and the costs, I was able to run with them). I say this in case you out there, dear reader, are following along and thinking, “well, I was ok till step 5, totally doable, but now I’m lost, what the heck is rupa or worldly conditions…I give up.” But if you made it this far, you were on board till you felt confused by step 5, don’t give up! Just start to see the impermanence, the broken views and the costs, and the fancy stuff can arise from there.

X) Floater Number –Tie in other stories/ Evidence — This is something that has became much more central as my practice has grown.  I tie together the concepts across multiple stories or situations so I can better understand the tendencies of my mind and/or overcome those tendencies (ie wrong views) with evidence. I do this in different sections depending on the story and my own goals or practice at the time.  The important thing here is that I take the opportunity to tie things together over time, to reinforce my understanding rather than just trying to solve a single story/problem.

At the beginning I used these bullets as a template, I would write them out and then fill-in; I was very diligent about following the method and each step in order. I think that was a huge help in really making each step, each part of the thinking process very clear and ingrained. Overtime  I have become more flexible, ordering more based on story and need (so sometimes suffering comes before wrong view for example) or lumping together different steps for different segments of a story or concept and then tying everything together in the Dharma section. Still, each distinct step is a part of 100% of my contemplations. They work when I consider actual stories that are mine and they work when I, internalize, put myself in other people’s shoes and imagine how I would feel in their stories.  Best of all, when I get stuck (or so emotional it’s hard to think straight) I can always go back to this structure.

Most of these blogs have been written for readability, so I am not outlining each step, but you can see if you can identify them as you go. In the next blog however, I will give a story about going to the dentist as an example that follows these steps in a clear way. So, read on…

RSS
Follow by Email
Facebook
Facebook
Google+
http://alana.kpyusa.org/2016/06/
Twitter