I'm a 65 year-old, lifelong bachelor who lives in Southeast Florida, about 40 miles north of MIami. I taught school and tutored children most of my working life. I've always had excellent rapport with 9 and 10 year-old children.

I'm a solitary, reclusive, and very contented man, who has largely divorced himself from our crazy culture. I don't watch TV or read newspapers. The popular media are filled with negativity, and I want nothing to do with it.

I spend my days helping my elderly mother, meditating, reading, exercising, writing, and posting messages and responses on CureZone. Almost all of the books I read these days are about health, healing, and spirituality. I take notes when I read, and
have more than 100, large 3-ring binders filled with the Insights that have resonated with me during the last 30 years.

Flying kites is my only hobby which involves other people. I have a gorgeous collection of single-string kites, which I fly on the nearby beach. They include a variety of enormous birds, butterflies, sharks, dragons, a huge yellow octopus, and male and female skin-divers, who are 14 ft long.

I'm able to fly a dozen kites at one time, by anchoring the reels under sand-bags. It takes about 30 minutes to fill the sky with fantastic shapes and vivid colors. Inevitably, this attracts beachgoers of all ages, who ask me if the kites are for sale. I shake my head, and tell them the kites are just for fun; my kite playground. Next, I hand each visitor a reel -- attached to a kite in the sky -- and the fun begins. I also have a dozen colorful spinners on sticks which little children love to play with. On a normal afternoon, there will be 20 or 30 grown-ups taking turns flying kites, and dozens and dozens of children. The world is forgotten, and so are life's problems, at least for the afternoon.. I've watched any number of older adults become decades younger in moments, when they realized they were flying a world-class kite for the only time in their long lives. The only sounds on the kite-playground are laughter, waves breaking, and the steady hum of the wind. It's an enormously satisfying experience for all of us, especially me.

When they're not flying, dozens of the most beautiful kites hang on the walls of my apt. Over the years, they've become real friends, who share what I've come to call my sacred space. The windows are almost always open, so they bristle and whisper in the breeze that blows off the nearby ocean. My colorful and quiet friends are one of the main reasons that I'm so deeply contented.

I became a vegetarian in 1977, the same year I gave up drinking alcohol. In retrospect, these were the two most important decisions of my life. I've enjoyed excellent health for 28+ years. Presently, I'm a living foods vegetarian. I don't cook any food, nor do I eat in restaurants.

I value Silence, Sobriety, Spirituality, Vegetarianism, Compassion, and Environmental Awareness. Few, if any, of my friends, neighbors, and relatives share my values. One of the appeals of CureZone is that it lets me interact with good human beings who DO share my values. My solitary self enjoys helping people without becoming physically involved with them.

God has blessed me abundantly! My only real desire in this, the winter of my lifetime, is to Give Back; to become an instrument through which God, The Universal Soul, can sing a beautiful healing song.

This picture is of me, Owen, though I must admit the photo isn't recent. It was taken in 1943, when I was just a toddler.

However, it's my favorite photo of me, because it shows my pristine spiritual self, gazing upwards in rapture at what could only be an angel or some celestial being.

Little Owen lived in the moment. He had no anxiety about the past, or fears of the future. His simple mind was uncluttered with concepts, desires, fears, or foolish attachments. He was spontaneous and playful, like all little children. He lived in that Garden of Eden from which we Big Folk have been expelled.

I'm on a spiritual quest to get back to that state of childhood samadhi. I know that it's not a matter of becoming something or attaining to a higher state. My soul was radiant in 1943, and it's radiant now. My task is to permanently disperse the clouds which mask my inner radiance. Each day, I spiritually ripen just a bit more than I did yesterday. And I look at that old photo of my toddler-self every day, and smile deeply. It's a catalyst that is helping me to spiritually ripen.

Soon, I will know exactly what celestial entity that little boy was gazing at, because I'll see it once more in all its rapturous beauty.

Om,

Owen