Faith

"Gratitude is a vaccine, an antitoxin, and an antiseptic." - John Henry Jowett
Find something to be thankful for in every moment and situation. This prevents disappointment from owning you, and empowers you with love and light. You can always be grateful for the strength and wisdom your current difficulty will leave you as a souvenir.  You know it will.

Saved by the quell

There was a time in my life when I was a control freak.  It was impossible to think that anyone could possibly have done things the way they needed to be done- my way.

One day I realized that all people were beautiful and smart, and had their own rights to perfection, as they saw it.  That was the day that I started to love life, and love others.

Now I like watching things unfold and enjoying the humor in all of our imperfections because imperfections are real (and sometimes they're damn funny!).  Perfection is not- it's just an impairment which prohibits us from living and breathing deeply.

Whew...

The Read Carpet

A giggle, a tickle, 

a sweet, steamy glance

A heart beat so thunderous

Might warrant this chance

This patience, this caring,

This broad understanding

You lingered, you tasted and

You hung from the rafters

In this land of abundance

Where rules are not

Written and the rent is

Nothing more than to be

Lovingly smitten

For the calling is only

Two sweet, beating hearts

And the living is free of

suppositions or darts

where scores are not kept

and blame is not met

for love is the gift

in each song that we script

so open so wide

is my heart

for the taking

and love is our

gift and ours for

the making

I lay red petals

Down along the path

To my door

And cite lyrical

Gems for you to adore

Come closer

Come closer

Come right through this door

And Love, lay me down

Sweetly now, and

Forever more

Morning has broken... me

Everlasting moment of my
eyes in their early morning's opening
show me birds flitting between
the pines and dancing
upon branches
the cool, morning breath
brushes my skin so tenderly
the breeze brushes
my tousled hair leaving
it kinda crazy
my feet touch the cool ground
as my toes spread wide and easy
upon the strong, gentle earth
can the earth sense my movement?
as I dance in jubilation
bowing to the points
encompassed in its fascination
PACHAMAMA, I do thank you
for all these gifts of morning
for the gratitude that wells inside
me in each new day's fine dawning
all within this moment
which lingers eternally...


Quiet has given me a renewed sense of wonder and an appreciation for the bliss that comes in each sweet breath drawn and then surrendered, when given in gratitude.  I wondered how a person so addicted to doing would survive this detour.  But I have surpassed survival and attained a new bliss and am thankful for all of this simple wonder even more than ever before.  Either that, or I am perhaps, just really good at being lazy!

Feargiveness

Someone recently asked about forgiveness.  After thinking about it for a little while the best definition that I can form is that forgiveness is love, when love isn't so easy to give.

Forgive and forget are two great strategies, but unfortunately since we are intelligent, thinking beings the forgetting part seems more impossible than natural.  When I think about times in my life when I have had to learn to forget, I can still begin to fidget a bit when I think about the hurts that I endured.  There's nothing wrong with this.  Hurt is hurt.  If you ignore it it's just going to hide and come get you in the night.  Hurt. And then become one with the feeling.  Then do it again when it comes up again.  And again when you have to.

Very few people make a conscious choice that sounds something like this, "I think I'm going to be really selfish and hurt Laura today.  No wait, perhaps I'll continue to hurt her for a long time..."  People do things without thought or intent, far more often than we realize.  What we must realize is that these people are love and are not diabolical strategists bent on ruining our lives.  Some of them, anyway.  Our feelings and reactions are the responsibilities of no one, but ourselves.

The greatest trick to forgiving is learning to forgive yourself.  When we are comfortable being one with our hurt or our guilt, we can move on (for the time being).  Realizing that we are only responsible for our own actions and reactions, and not those of anyone else, is the key to our freedom.  Sure, I can dwell on what an ex-husband did to me and I can hold a grudge because of failed promises that came up empty and I can be sore because I did keep my end of the bargain.  But those were MY choices to stay there, to take what he gave and to be bitter about it.

Tonight I was thinking about how wonderful it must be to be able to be whatever you are, and know that love will always be there for you.  During my marriage there were times when my husband was unbearable and I endured those, waiting for the better times to re-emerge.  I always honored him for the good that he was, in spite of what he wasn't.  I took the good with the bad, but for a long time I was angry at myself for doing that.  You know, when I excise all of the assignations of blame and responsibility from the situation, I am left with knowing that I loved well a lot of the time, and a clear knowledge of something to want for myself going forward.

Forgiveness definitely comes in stages and when we allow ourselves to honor the good and are not compelled to qualify the bad, we are a whole lot closer to freedom.  The important thing in all of this, I believe, is wanting to forgive, or wanting to remember the love that we have for someone- even when they don't make it easy for us.  When the storm finally subsides we are often left with a new arrangement which sometimes means there will be a different relationship, but as long as we honor the good in ourselves and our others, there is light with us, even in the darkness, and this is nothing to fear.

last call

As this day dims I am swaddled in the truth that it doesn't matter what did or didn't happen.  It doesn't matter how hard or tasty or sweet anything was.  If it was done with honor, in earnest, and with enthusiasm- it was a day well spent.  And it was.

Sweet dreams...

A celebration of L*I*G*H*T

Isn't it like a setting sun
which you think your eyes will
no longer see
yet that bright light suddenly blinds
you, peeking through the filtered
leaves

Isn't love that way?
When you think you  have lost its
bright wonder...
but then it sneaks up
on you in a smile,
or something to remember

Kindness and caring
are life's greatest gifts for the living
but as candles and photos fade
these gifts cannot be cremated
by the cold of ordinary,
thermic flames

I walked the world to find
you in every setting sun
I lived pain and joy, with and beside you,
and I wait for you in each new rising
And now that you're gone you mean
more than ever

Isn't life funny
how its gifts so few are plenty
and that it matters not how many..
because when the light slips away
your love still warms me...

ALWAYS and forever


*for beautiful Sue

Bricks or stones

How do you tear down a wall
that isn't really there?
If its constructs are merely
imagination's deepest fear?

How do you slay a dragon
with its fiery, fatal breath?
When fantasy alone cannot
challenge you to death?

How do you not drown
in spite of your life which suffocates you?
How do you live in solace
when love is all around you?

You cannot see with your
scorched brown eyes, from behind your brick and mortar
You have chosen instead to call on death
and hide within its shelter

bricks or stones

can break your bones

but love will never harm you

The Hotel Durant

Sitting in the window

Of my fashionable hotel

I sip the Pinot Grigio

As the waiter walks away

Looking at the crowd

All the people passing by

Looking back at me as if

I was a monkey on display

There are giggling girls

And neck-cranked leering boys

There’s a mom with a stroller

Mesmerized by her beautiful baby as he fades away

I lift my glass, keeping constant my gaze

Through my white wine

I see an orchestral and colorful movement,

A spiraling haze

The waiter returned and placed

My lunch on the crisp white tablecloth

His finger covered in a bright blue

Rubber finger tip, part of which looked purple

Ahhhh… fish with mango tartar sauce…

Turning back with a small bite in my mouth

I see an older couple standing crowded in a doorway

Eating hot dogs in their buns… together

A dark skinned woman with shorts that are

Way too small hurries her skinny partner-lover

Along the crowded road

And he obliges

My own summer browned skin

That makes people stare

I admire for a moment against

The sparkling silver wares- no one sees it, but me

And I look up and wonder why the

Dark skinned woman who is too fat

And too harsh, is so loved

By the skinny man

Or why was the pony-tailed man

In the jeans too short

Escorted by the kindness

Of another life, of course?

The waiter asked if I wanted more wine as

A drop of blood fell from his purple rubber finger

Hitting the table with a silent thud

As I sit alone in the window, pretending not to notice

Making me wonder…

In my fashionable hotel

as I sit alone with my summer browned skin

And my beautiful clothes

Do you think

perhaps

I should be drinking

Red wine

Through which
they cannot,

My envy,

see?

Dictionordinary

How can you define something that means
something different to each person?
How can you call a color
just one color?
When it means something
different to each or the other?
How can you call it chirping
when each bird is
singing of a different
sunset, or calling a different warning?
How can you call it sweet
when you don't know
how it tastes on his tongue
or hers- or on mine?
What is this love
that you speak of?
How do you know how it wakes me
or breaks me
or calls me its own?

Breakfast at Henry's

As hard as yesterday was in a physical sense for me, it yielded a joyous sigh of relief. My son who has in the past been a prisoner of anxiety, has chosen to not let this demon steal his dream.  It's been so long since Frank has been on a road trip, but he insisted on being the captain of the road, as we rocketed across the Grapevine to this beautiful city.  He chose courage and enthusiasm to be his lights as I watched him, smiling, greeting his future class and study mates.  My soul was thrilled over dinner, when he shared how he already connected with the faculty and leaders of his philosophical future.

Whew.  It's been a rough road, during which I often worried, cried and fretted about the future.  But there were so many times that I threw my hands up, yelling "WHEE!" and made it here in one piece.  The latter, were the times most worth remembering.

Frank slept in this morning so I put on a pretty skirt and scarf, grabbed an easy read, and headed down to the restaurant, Henry's.  There was one obvious choice on the menu, the Breakfast Banana Split!  It was a split banana with cottage cheese and vibrant fresh fruit, drizzled in a slightly sweetened raspberry sauce and roasted almonds.  Too pretty to eat, I took its picture and then dug in.  Damn, but life is good.  Looking around at all of the beautiful decor, including a big, white owl on the serving cabinet, I chose to let all the beauty of the moment fill in the spaces between all that was.

Dreaming about how much fun we are going to have today as we visit Moses Hall (the Philosophy hub at Berkeley), buying t-shirts, checking out more vegan restaurants, and talking about the excitement of Frankie's dreams... I remembered how hard and painful yesterday was.  I had to quit the orientation half way through because of my pain.  Looking down at my crutches I noticed how pretty the polished metal was in that beautiful glowing light of morning.  My heart took my thoughts away from my mind, reminding me of all that I have learned because of this injury, and in that moment I also pictured the woman who cleaned my hotel room yesterday.  Earlier in the morning I was angry when I realized that my favorite eye shadow was gone, but in that heart's bursting I wished her a feeling of joy- hoping that my gift made her feel more beautiful.

It is in that space, and that choice in every moment, that we have the ability to choose what we want to be... what we want to feel... and what we invite back to us.

Om nama shivaya!

Giggling

Last night's patio respite was so refreshing as the cool breeze tickled me and the waning sun still warmed me.  Hearing the loud thunder of distant planes approaching, I turned and admired my three pines, the holy trinity.  Having labeled them Me, Myself and I Am, my awe erupts each time we meet.

The sound of the planes overtook the air as I watched the tips of the trees, with two F-something fighters emerging in the clear sky.  Sitting, wondering why there were not three of them (to rival the numeric quality of my blessed trio aka my OCD patterning requisites) a bird suddenly took off from the tree on the left, frantically flapping its wings, seeming to be racing the planes, or become part of them- it flew in the same line as they did.

Oh how I laughed.  The universe is very funny.

Dreaming

It is a pleasure to be in the company of someone who is realizing the birth of their dreams.   Within this past week alone I have had the honor of sharing the soul secrets of two beautiful friends who have been working hard and making it happen. 

I know that I have the strength, the drive, the smarts, the perseverance and even some capital to make things happen.  The only thing I'm missing is the dream. 

Today I'm going to pray for a dream.

Dead Man, Walking

Yesterday was a somber day filled with tear bursts and memories.  My inner wisdom  kept whispering to me, that death is a part of life.  This morning when I woke and realized that yesterday was not just a bad dream I remembered so many sweet things.  Interspersed with sadness, filtered in joy and happiness, leaving in its wake, gratitude for what was, and what made and makes the world better.  Love never dies and kindness is never wasted.

Having no ability to concentrate this morning I read little quips here and there and rested in the beauty of tried and true wisdom.  The older I get, the more clever clichés become.  I wish they weren’t so COMMON, but revered for their intensifying accuracy.  But so is life… always deepening in meaning and in heart.

Careful what you wish for… there’s another good cliché for you.  The morning of Memorial Day I decided to take a few minutes extra to practice my fire ceremony which allows me to expel negativity while inviting goodness in.  One of my greatest challenges of late has been surpassing tolerance, and attaining understanding.  Tolerance, to me, implies that you are just putting up with something.  If you truly see the light in all beings, then you will accept, embrace and love someone, without any consideration of flaws or shortcomings. This is where I would rather be, but...

Slow people bug me.  The lack of energy, enthusiasm and light, topped with the lack of consideration for the people whom they are affecting, all just bite my ass.  So in my meditation I asked that my shortness of patience for slow people be taken from me. If this could be replaced with a non-judgmental acceptance, I could truly love them without seeing their blocks.  I would understand the beauty in each one of their slow-roasted souls.

That afternoon when taking one giant step, I turned to grab the hand-rail and POP! I went down and couldn’t get up.  Some people came and helped me stand, but there was no way that leg was gonna’ work.  It’s been three weeks now and I’ve regained some use of my leg, and the surgeon will fix it, with a brand new ligament screwed through my bones.  A few months of physical therapy after that and I will be ready to take short walks again.  A few more months and I will most likely be back on the trails with my Pooch.

 In these weeks I have seen how tiring life can be, physically.  I have seen how cruel and inconsiderate the quick-paced of the species can be.  I have seen how difficult it can be to navigate through the simplest of tasks.  I have seen how impeded my own thinking has been due to pain, exhaustion, and frustration. And I have seen how slow and steady is what will finish this race.

The doctor told me that I will have to choose whether to use a graft of my own tendon or a cadaver ligament.  My initial reaction was complete disgust with the thought of a dead person’s parts inside of me.  The only thing that fueled continued consideration of this option is the fact that it is a lot less painful and a faster recovery.   

Yesterday afternoon before heading out I rested with my leg up, and turned on the television.  HBO was broadcasting a special about people who donate their bodies to science. The sweet man that I was honored to know, who had just lost his life, kept popping into my head as the film showed one dead body after another, but these thoughts of him made death feel a little bit softer.  I tuned in just in time to watch the segment on ligament harvesting and processing.  EWWWWW.  But then one of the med students spoke not of what he was learning, but of what a gift these people were giving, to help others.  Suddenly the horror of a dead body turned into a realization of kindness and love, and I was moved from beyond my narrow fixation in fear.  Now the thought of a cadaver ligament no longer meant anything other than love and light living on.

My new understanding helped me realize that someone who will never breathe, see, touch, taste or feel, cared enough, and will help me walk again.

So I guess I got more than I knew that I was asking for.  Life is good that way.  Of course, when I work on my patience and understanding of stupid people I think I’m just going to quietly practice, and hope for the best.

; )

Dancing Nancies

Sometimes I wish I was not human
with flesh and heart that tears
how wondrous it would be to
be the green from way out there

To know the truths of life
and love
to minister to them
from above

as setting sun and
beaming moon
as whispering pines
divulging their tunes

I wish I was any
one of these
or a spider in
the sweet green tree

whose mission is ne'er
but a requisite quest
but then how would
I be truly blessed

if I were anything but me?

Sally

Last night when I prayed I held my hands together tightly, close to my heart.  An old woman appeared and asked me what I wanted.  More than divulging my desires, I wanted to know who SHE was.  With a sympathetic giggle she told me that she was the one who knew what I wanted. 
Scanning her colorful, lively attire and glistening, long, white hair, that sense of familiarity rushed over me as I realized that I had met her before. 
The question then became, why do I keep forgetting her?

It's time

The wind is blowing...
the wind changes every thing
it moves and awakens
as it dances and sings

Fear

Not even life-threatening, this thing that aches me.  But it scares me more .  I asked each one of the people that love me to hold my hand, but they each could not.  So I guess I'm going it alone.  I don't know why I'm scared, but I am.
Maybe, sometimes, even the ocean runs dry.  Mountains tumble down.  I wish I had someone to hold me up and fill my cup.  But I don't. I pray that someday I will.
So I'll just find a way to get by.  I always do.

Sunset

There is 

nothing

right

‘bout this

dimly lit

night

When day
slips

away

holding dreams

at bay

weeping wisps of

colors

before they fade

as I do, 

to

sweet, peaceful

slumber

Where I can’t tell

at all

if I am flying

or I am

falling

Gliding through

the colors of

memory

no longer

seeing

the light

I fall
or I fly

It matters not

why

if I still

see

the

light

and the

colors

What did you expect?

I noticed today that loving someone who doesn’t want to love you is so much easier when you are no longer hoping that they will.  This freedom allows your love to be a pure and unadulterated manifestation of your heart’s beating and your soul’s greatest gift.  Do not ever doubt please, dear, that I love you, and that I always will.

Today it felt good 
to love you, once again.  
Since the love 
was not fettered 
by disappointment 
or by pain.  

I pray you feel 
the beating of 
my will, 

but only so that 
you feel 
the love 
within it still.

Be blessed, 
my love 
wherever 
you may go.  

And pray again 
I will, 

that love 
you’ll 
someday know.  

And I will be there with you, cuz...

Love is an energy

that is neither created 
or destroyed.

It simply transforms itself

as it ignites,

burns ferociously,

quiets...

glows as embers...

or scatters across the universe 

as dancing ashes.

It is.

It is love.

Symphonic

In the symphony of leaves
the evening sings to me
rattling songs that set me free
from the heat of day so long

In the symphony of leaves
sounds the whispers of the secrets
of the warmth of mother's blanket
woven in the deepest shade of green


In the symphony of leaves
the wind caresses each green plane
as it sings of love again
and then bows in sweet refrain

In the symphony of leaves
I feel the furthest branches
bent heavy toward the hillside
which it shades in gift, with gladness

In the symphony of leaves
so still and then so lively
with each breath exhaled by heaven
my soul's secrets are enlivened

Hearing your wonderous stories

Another beautiful night... driving up the canyon there weren't a lot of cars.  Waiting my turn at the four-way, I proceeded at the same time that Jon Anderson started singing,

"I awoke this morning
Love laid me down by a river.
Drifting I turned on upstream
Bound for my forgiver.
In the giving of my eyes to see your face.
Sound did silence me
Leaving no trace.
I beg to leave, to hear your wonderous stories.
Beg to hear your wonderous stories."

Well you know me... the thought of love laying me down ANYWHERE revved me up a bit.  As I always do, when the adrenaline surges (either from a dreamy whim or soul-shaking song), my foot hit the gas a little harder.  I tore the hill up pretty quickly only to find myself once again, behind the same damn motorcyle that held me back before.

Fortunately, those beautiful hills in the fading light called me.  All I could imagine was how wonderful it must be to feel the wind in your face as you openly ascend through that beauty.  Of course he couldn't hear the YES that I could, but what he heard, and what echoed through my heart was what my soul (and I'm guessing his) really needed to hear.

Thank you, Mr. Motorcycle Stranger.  Namaste.

If I had only known

If I had known how much it takes to give to someone who doesn't love you,
I hope I would have done things a little differently.
If I had known that love isn't always happy or perfect
I hope I would have loved you a little more.
If I had known that pain is the main ingredient in appreciation
I think I would have thought of you a little differently.
If I had known how important kindness and generosity were
and how seldom they are laid at your feet
I am pretty sure I would have wanted you more.
If I had known how loyalty is priceless
I would have spent everything to keep you

If I had known that wanting is liberation and not weakness,
I swear I would have wanted you more.
If I had known that watching you writhe would
inflict my own pain
I would have gauged my own eyes out
and spared you
I wish I had known that hurting you
hurt me more.
I wish I could have known what love was
when you were wanting to love me
I didn't know that love was a gift for my taking
I didn't know that you needed mine too
I didn't know that kindness always mattered
I didn't know that was all I'd ever need.

But now I know
and I want you to know,
that now that I can't,
I love you so.

Drum one and drum all

Wow... what a fun night.  The minute I heard that there would be a drum circle at the UC, I knew I had to go.  So many of my dreams and meditations have included that hauntingly exhilarating beat which awakens me.

Picture 5 concentric circles each enveloping its predecessor, facing the same center.  Each of us, a point in its construct, embracing various drums, beating in unison.  The pulses were like one heart, beating loudly.  On the one hand the vibrations filled the air, but my feet against the floor knew that Mother Earth was absorbing, and reciprocating, those vibes as well.

Our leader guided us during the finale, to concentrate our heartbeats outward, sending love to someone, or everyone, or the world. We were allowed to drum whatever we wanted, in any variation. What a high- to be part of all of that uninhibited energy and love.  What reverberated most poignantly in me was that in the midst of the seeming jungle of noisy madness... from my feet on the floor, to the pulsing in my heart, to the ears at the top of my being, was an undeniable center of unison- a most uninhibited heartbeat of ONE. 

Beautiful

Three Wishes

Three times yesterday I was honored with the opportunities to extinguish flaming sweets.  Every year the cakes get a little bit brighter.  This might be symbolic of the thought that we are more luminous as we grow... all I really know is that my aging eyes appreciate the extra light!

Make a wish!  What to wish for… the first candles found me wishing for a more peaceful world.  What the heck.  Just in case there’s a genie in that cake, I’d better make this a good one.

The second wish in the middle of the afternoon found me wishing that the people I love would all be content and fulfilled in their lives.  All of them.  Sometimes I can get a little greedy!

Even though I felt so blessed by so many people sending me their love and wishes, there were some glaring omissions which cut me to the quick.  I tried so many times to pull myself out of the pity pit, but the brighter side of my usual outlook was hidden in this darkness.  I continuously checked my phone and email, hoping for that prodigal flicker that would have made me feel what I longed to feel... on this day that I dared to wish.

My drive home was saturated with pain when I could no longer manage to dig myself out of my pity pit.  I didn’t think I’d make it to the front door without bursting into tears.  Even though I have been on my own for years, I still can’t avoid that sinking, burning pain of loneliness at the time that I should be celebrating.  Christmas, New Years, Valentine’s Day, my birthday… these are the times when I remember that I am alone.  These are the days that I’d rather skip, to avoid the grief of my reality.

Walking through the door without having yet melted, I tried to make a quick escape to my room, without anyone noticing.  There I could have a proper meltdown and be done with all of the disappointment of this day.  But my daughter stopped me.  She asked me to sit down and she put a candle-clad cake in front of me.  A really delicious cake!  Next to it she plopped a red bag.

The lit candles lent themselves to an awesome amber glow in the room, which flickered on the cake’s butterfly ornament, making the wings seem to flutter. The light from all of those candles warmed me as I chose to remember all of the love and the good that I have amassed over the years. As the song trailed off, my inner whisper nudged me to “make it count.”  So as the wax dripped slowly onto the melting scalloped edges of the cream topping, my heart mustered the courage to ask for what I really wanted.  Not something to just wish for, but something worth having. Once you blow out the candles the wishes are gone- all you have left is what you have chosen. Make it count.

Happy Birthday to Me!

"What the caterpillar calls the end of the world,

the Master calls a butterfly."

Seize the Cabernet

There is a bit of gratitude for my inability to remember some of the more traumatic events which have shaped my life.  Every now and then, though, those little flashes of remembrance sneak up and wreck you like an instant replay of an accident caught on film.  And you live it over and over again.


It has been both my pleasure and my curse in this life, to be a loving and generous person.  What a gift to learn that you have made a difference in the life of another.  Of course some of the things that I've given were probably not perceived as gifts, but emotional and spiritual maturity has shown me that it's all fine.  It's all for the good.  And for those things, I honor the pain that I inflicted with my remorse, my caring and my love.

I wish I could pinpoint the minute that my AHA! bell went off and I realized that loving too much is not loving at all.  This is a lesson that I had to learn not only once, but over and over, and it had to be in a degree that burned my soul and melted my heart.  And it finally did.  I couldn't tell you if it was one particular thing or the culmination of them all, but I learned that love must be freely received as it is given, to be good love.

Today is the birthday of a friend whom I love. At no time in our relationship was there ever a definition of what we were.  We were.  Plain and simple.  That did not stop me from wishing for something more though.  Maybe... with space and time... maybe.  But today is his birthday.  I bought him a sweet bottle of wine that I was going to give him when he fit me in to his busy life.  Laying in bed this morning I made  all kinds of reasons to be understanding for what he is going through.  After all, when it's good, it's so very good.  AND  I can give him the wine the next time I see him...you know... when he feels like it.

It was a sweet day in a lot of ways, some surprising, and some predictable.  Sitting here on my gorgeous patio, sipping some truly delicious wine; the pine trees' typical whispers are bellowing a beautiful song to me in a volume that drowns my trivial thoughts and beliefs.

This blessed sip of life is to drink.

There is but one truth that I have yet to live and it is scribed most accurately by my hero, Henry David Thoreau, "As if you could kill time without injuring eternity."  


So as I sip this delicious bottle of birthday wine I do so knowing that it is truly time to live- for me.  Carpe Diem.

Once you make a choice to do the "right" thing, do not hold it against your brother if he does not choose the same. Remember that your own choices evolve, as do his. Your reward in doing is simply that you have done. Acceptance, approval and applause are irrelevant within authentic action. Honor the light that helped you see, and in its glow, bow to the light in your brother.

Snail trail

Oh but I am blessed.  Sitting on the patio watching the warm sun sink through the hazy sky I heard the promise of spring.  Dreams of blossoms of hope and happiness and love welled up inside of me. Setting up here in the new Chez Vigneau has been slow going.  Tonight I chose to abandon all thoughts of responsibility, and traded in for a glass of red on my beautiful new patio where I watched bunnies ducking under bushes, snails meandering about and crows coming in for landings in the massive pine trees that skirt the property.

The cushions of the wicker furniture are thread bare and tearing in some spots.  I turned them and everything seemed fresh and new.  Touching one chair I accidentally knocked loose a snail, who made an emphatic click as it hit the brick beneath my feet.  I turned him right side up and resumed my mission of relaxation.  Too beautiful.  This thought was a welcome relief as it overtook the maddening frustration that had defined my week at work, and my recent thoughts for myself.  How can I be almost 48 years old, and still not know what my life's purpose is?  How can I have spent what I have in love and tears, and have nothing to show for it?  How can it be that I have loved so hard, and yet have no one who wants to love me?

My throat swelled as I remembered my loneliness, and tears started to well in my eyes.

The sinking sun caught one of my tears and glistened, turning my attention toward the sun.  I noticed beneath the sun's line, a haphazard trail left by a snail.  It circled back upon itself half a dozen times and didn't appear to be going anywhere in particular.  Silly snail, I thought.  Silly snail... what have you done with your day?

As the sun continued to lower it burned with that ferocity that every dying light emanates, as if to call out in the hopes of being heard... "I was here."  Before long it hit the snail trail which glistened like a million lights.  As if each seemingly meaningless step was but a glint in this world's great light.

Om nama shivaya.

the super moon

Last night I asked the angels

to show my love to me

to bring me to his splendor

awakened in my dream

Perched on the edge of a thick white cloud

I spread my wings and calling out

you heard my song and then you came

and we danced across the sky

Morning's glory gently woke me

from my soft, green grassy nest

but she dared not take from me,

you, my greatest awakening

Walking the path the whispered

pleas wafted to me from the trees

The words, unclear, I could not hear

yet I knew they spoke of you, my dear

So I ran through the streets

of this big, scary city

searching for you

in every nook and cranny

Scanning the faces of

each one in the masses

Holding my breath til

each soul by me, passed

And I wait tired in the light

on the corner in the night

Oh angels, hear my prayer

One more time- please take me there

Morning stretch

standing somewhere different

than the place you stood before

everything is different

from the ceiling to the floor

eyes wide open, seeing things

that weren't there before

miles or inches closer

to opening the door

breathing through the fire and rain

born anew with a burst of pain

knowing that although you wane the

emptiness yields joy again

trading thoughts you had

for sensations all anew

knowing that the loving matters
most in what you do

reaching out beyond the dream of

what you thought was real

spinning on this ball of life

head now under heel

then ready to die, to live this life

so raw, alive, on the ledge you are

dancing, hurling, freeing your soul

to finally stretch the edge

cold

Alone in the night
the storm sets
in
The dark can't see
what is haunting
me
Abandoned old heart
beats steadily
bold
in spite of the freeze
in spite of this
cold
Icicle daggers
tear me a new
pain
but hey, it's only love-
It'll come 'round
again

**********

Let not my heart be weighted

Nor my love be blind or shaded

If my light be sadly faded

When love comes once again fated,

Knocking at my door

May two fiery souls’ union

Come to me none too soon then

With a blessed and warm reunion

Of souls' unabashed communion,

                                                                Oh love, come call on me

sNOwMAN

One day I know it'll rain on me
when bathed in yearning drops of steam,
love will wrap its quenching arms round me
i hope it feels like your sweet heat
did

One day the sun is gonna shine
those rays of warmth that fill the cracks
and when love pours its light o'er me
i hope it shines like your sweet smile
still

One day the wind will carry me
away on currents swift and free
and when love takes my breath from me
i pray my death be as sweet as kissing you
was

One day I know that love will dawn
not a moment too soon, nor an hour too long
with silent reverence for what has made me
now readied for what will once again be
forever



"And if I had just one wish to wish, I would wish to wish no more." -Lala

Rain on me

Wrapped in this warm, brown blanket

Snug in my big, cozy white chair

Listening to the sounds of silence

Reaching through the chilled, moist air

Engaging the world of what will be

Fantasy woos then sets me free
But am I dreaming, or is this real?

The rain is waiting for me

Raindrops lightly tap the window

their noise a soothing harmony

Listen to their choral cleansing

Echo through this silent dream

Oh what will come and what will be

I welcome euphoria's drowning ecstasy

Down it rolls- the first weighted drop

And I am swimming in the rain

Drawn

If I draw a line in the sand

it might not be straight

And if I did it would soon

disappear with a wave

Treasure filled journey
uncharted course, undefined

With this compass most true-

my heart... not my mind
                                    

When I give knowing that there is no guaranteed return, my gift becomes that you received what I gave.  And that is enough for me.  If you cherish what it was you found, my cup will run over.   -Lala

Tell me, what do you want me to do, to do for you, to see you through?                                                           -Robert Hunter

Wisdom blows

More than a year has passed since I lived through this day.  It was an anniversary which was once celebrated, reduced to a pile of shard-laced rubble, too painful to dig through, but which now no longer wrecks me.  Like that mountain that nearly killed me to climb, as I walk away, on the other side of it, I am no longer overwhelmed... it diminishes.  What you see depends on where you're standing. 

Understanding never comes all that easily when you're standing alone, sifting through the rubble.  The ability to move on comes at a higher price when forgiveness is not asked of, or given to you.  I read a book last year titled, "Wisdom Bowls," which suggested that we need to come to our own conclusions in order to move past our grieving.  Truth, like sight, is subjective.  We can never know what is in the heart or reason of another.  We can only know the recipe of our own mixture. 

Decide for yourself what really happened and just go with it, is my simplistic paraphrase of the book.  This very "truth" will fill in the cracks and allow you to fill that bowl with wisdom, is the basic resolution which the author offered.

I try too hard.  Always making something out of nothing.  From memories of wonder that flashed every now and then in my life, I have held onto that feeling like an addict always trying to attain that HIGH again.

Love isn't a thing.  LOVE is the sum of all that you are It is the end result of your hurts and triumphs, the elixir of your hopes, dreams and desires.  But it is nothing until you choose to bathe another in its gift.  A simple smile for a weary stranger... a helping hand for a neighbor... a kind offering for a friend in need... and maybe, if you're really lucky, a heart that will take yours, and do the same for you.

Ahhh... swimming in this notion that is known by so few... tell me what was love before I loved you?

The direction of my gaze abruptly pivoted skyward
As I remembered to look for a shooting star

As if there was a sale on sky lights
Heaven displayed its abundance of wealth and wonder

My eyes scanned the vast canvas
But were drawn to the line of mountains

Which cut the sky as waking cuts through dreams
As if kissed by g~d I longed to see the shooting once again

Bitter dreams

Consciousness drifted in and out, back and forth, in a frenzied pace that left me not knowing if I was sleeping or awake.  Like two hands shuffling a deck of cards, the anonymous backs of the one hand faced the moon and flickered with light, with hope... that somehow I would draw the right one.

I drew a breath and began my descent through the smoke.  Trying to hand my card to each keeper, I drifted forward.  Guarded, they hid their faces from me.  I should not have known their secrets, only that their choice was not to share them with me. 

There is nothing I would not do for someone who loved me.  There is no price too big or burden too great to understand. 

The singing bowl is clanging haunting vibes again.  Must be time to go and wake up. 

The earth, behaving as fire- molten magma.

The blank heart

Even in the most intimate of personal relationships, most of us still live inside our own private mental worlds.   Our attention is often preoccupied – sometimes more in the past and future than in the present – so that we have very little attention to give to those we want to love.  Despite our best intentions to draw closer, all kinds of distracting thoughts – likes and dislikes, attachments and aversions, private moods, dreams and desires – come in any time they like, keeping other people at a distance.   We yearn for closeness and find, more often, disappointment.  Wow (words of wisdom) courtesy of Ecknath Eswaran.  

understanding

What you see in your blindness

hear in your deafness

breathe in the fire

and understand in your death

These will bring you light

they will teach you truths-

peace, love and trust

These will give you life

Burnin' one

It is no secret to anyone who knows me that I am in love.  After so many years of bad choices and heartaches my soul has found a true home to share- The Unity Center.

The reverend, Wendy, talked about how we needed to let go of what/all of the things that were holding us back, or keeping us from being our best, true selves.  There was mention of weeds and how we need to plant good things so that the weeds don't take over.

"Up until now" was the first list that we were to scribe, which included those things that have been holding us back.  My list included fear, guilt and ... can't remember.  Guess the exercise worked!  All 1,000 or so of us took turns marching in a slow line to the patio where the burning bowl's flames tossed the sweet scent of burning shortcomings wafting through the air.  I heard muffled cries and nose blowings every so often and when I looked around, noticed a lot of teary faces.  In spite of the heaviness of my empathetic heart, all I could feel for myself, was how lucky I am that life had already taken, then taught me so much that there is no worry anymore, about letting go.

I am free!


"Oh what possibilities" was the second mini message of the morning. Oh what work I have ahead of me, as I realize what I have come here for.

The touch stone was the final touch.  We were each handed a small white tile upon entering the sanctuary.  Wendy invited us to quiet our mind, get out of our own way, and open ourselves up to one word.  That one word would be what we need to touch upon throughout the year, to help ourselves grow the most.  I thought for sure that my word was courage.  But as soon as I stepped aside and breathed through my heart, a beautiful aqua light flooded through me, nudging, "JOY."  So I scribbled Joy! on  my touchstone.

Sitting there for hours, which seemed like minutes, I realized that I couldn't have been happier, than at that very moment.  I was surrounded by beautiful people and there was nothing but hope, promise and happiness in front of me.  High on life.  I've heard that one a million times but I never before knew this particular meaning.

When we were done burnin' our bowls and touching heaven , a fantastic friend and I had the munchies so we headed off and inhaled the beauty of life some more over some stone soup.

Jelly jars

ask not of god what god is,
for god cannot be told by lips

ask not of love what love should give,
for the light of love is limitless

trap not this splendor in a jar,
for then the splendor would be gone

think not how far the light can reach,
for this, only the open heart can see

Turn me oh-ver

Writing my wrongs in this black box of shame

Humming some hims to erase all the blame

Kneeling before you, I’s lowered in shame

As pen-nance releases my runaway game

Whisper my seek-ret through theses cuts in the steal

Where you hear me, and hold me and tell me to feel

So I squirm and erupt as I rise to my heal

Shedding shame’s ugly skin, for flesh's a-peel

Holding me farther away from your hearth

where my lips cannot bellow your prodigal spark

Where our fire dares not flare to then fall apart

Hold me where the flame is real, not a shot in the dark

Righting your wrongs in this black box- no shame

Kneeling before me you bowed down and I came

I dream of melting your tower of shame, and

I burn slowly, warmly- please don't dampen this flame

Til we whisper our secrets through the holes in this fence
The wall crumbles between us, as we move to confess
And we shed all the wrongs, and move on to the best
In the light, in this love, we are truly the blessed

Pen-nance: The act of writing your wrong


Something old, something new...   :)

The leopard's spots, unspoken

Dear Laura,

Another year has now gone and as I look around I see people everywhere, putting this last one behind them.  There are countless remarks of thankfulness that it's over, or recounting of the bad that seemed to have a hold on it.  Everyone, it seems, is looking forward, with hope for something better.

I was sad to see this year end, for it has been the most incredible year of my life.  The last hour of 2010 I spent in solitude, holding tightly, holding dearly, the goodness that I was fortunate enough to touch.  This was the year where I let go and allowed the most authentic me to live my life out loud.  This was the year that my family bore the fruits of healing, and breathed more easily.  Within these past 12 months my broken heart and will learned to live and love again. In this year I found forgiveness in that love, and freed myself to move forward.  In a year's time I turned around some bad situations and in spite of the wealth that flooded me, I did not drown in its lure.  I stayed focused on what was important and meaningful.  And in this year I found a craving for that which is good and right.  I look better, I feel better and I am moving forward in a loving and gentle way.

Bidding farewell to a beloved friend is never easy, and I don't really have to say goodbye to last year because it was just yesterday and it is always with me.  But as I welcome this new day, this new week, this month and this year I find myself trembling at the thought of moving forward.  I've never been here before- this place of knowing and moving forward.  My fingers are stumbling on this keyboard, as my heart stutters and my mind shudders, afraid to cough up my thoughts, my intentions for 2011.

As I have been entertaining the possibilities of what to do with my life I have been open to suggestions that will help point me in the right direction.  Yesterday I engaged in an exercise that showed me what is most important to me.  And it is to be loved. 
I want to be in a loving relationship that allows us both to be who we are, something wonderful together, and able to laugh, grow, cry, and enjoy each other. 
Then there is my life's path.  What am I supposed to do?  This year I will know what my purpose is and I will get working on whatever needs to be done, to get there. 
I will be a much stronger and more fit me each day of this year. 
I will not let fear stop me from tackling personal difficulties.

My gratitude for your kindness, your patience, your understanding and your laughter humble me. Thank you for holding me up when no one knew how heavy our heart was.  Thank you for the love that has grown stronger in us, in spite of what we were dealt.  Thank you, Laura, for the strength to walk gracefully even when the path was not clear.

Namaste,
Yourself

Love, joy and pieces

Grimy and a bit sweaty, I ripped my shirt first then my bra off, readying for the warm shower that was pounding in the background.  The drops' audible concerto muffled only slightly, the sound of my aqua aura stone hitting the cold, hard tile.  It felt like a slow mo replay as the sight of my joy rock shattering, overpowered the echoes of the fall.

I had been meaning to find a way to encase the stone which I could then chain around my neck.  Now it was too late.  Picking up the pieces in my hand (there are now 6) I wondered what I could construct with these shattered shards of blue.  Just two weeks ago my Reiki master presented me with this stone which came with two simple instructions.  First, I was to bring more joy into my life.  She has helped me rid myself of the karmic, psychic and emotional debris that were clogging my joy pores, because I'm ready and it's time.  The second directive was to keep the stone with me, which was the reason it was tucked safely between the underside of my left breast and my bra, so close to my heart.

So here I sit staring at my 6 piece aqua aura pile of joy.  I laugh because these fragments are so symbolic of my life which truly is joy-filled, and a result of many breaks.  Breaks of hearts, promises, dreams, illusions, delusions, lies, truths, and beliefs.  There are many people who believe in the power of crystals, as there are many who believe in the power of God, communion, chanting, and even joy and love.  These last few months have been an incredible passage in my life- the shift from stability (which was long and hard fought for) as I catapulted in a spiraling back-flip into ecstasy.  How I got here is no feat of magic, just the simple knowledge that I am love and light.  This has empowered me to forgive myself all of my sins- big or small, which in turn has allowed me to forgive others' theirs.  This freedom has afforded me the ability to love myself in spite of my flaws, in spite of my wrongs.  And this, in turn, allows me to freely love the light in others.


Later in the day, after my shaman gifted me an aura of joy, I fell in love with the world a little more deeply.  While trolling around San Diego with a delicious friend I wandered away, getting caught up in the artistry of unknown souls.  To feel the magic in each woven strand of fabric, or brush stroke of genius on a canvas, I was swept into that ecstatic knowing sense of unison with this beautiful world.  A quiet tap on my shoulder told me to look up and there it was- the word JOY spelled out in glistening red garland, just above a green doorway.

I was never taught to seek joy.  Life was just a chore to be endured and survived.  It has taken a lot of pain-soaked years to get here, and to learn to honor my highest self and our needs.  But here I am.

If I had seen the garland joy just one day earlier, it might not have tickled me the way it did now (and does every time I now think of it).  But isn't that just how joy works?  Would I not appreciate and understand the greatness of what I have, if it were not for all that I have lost, all that I have come to crave?  Would your face not be so beautiful or so understood and appreciated, if it were not for the loss and longing's light in which I now see it?  Would you not touch me, unbeknownst to you, the way that you do, if I could not want and feel what I do?


My little pile of rocks is now scattered through parts of my life.  A little bit in my car, a piece on my work desk, one in front of my computer where I sit and write this, one on my night stand, a new part of my shrine to the call for love, and the biggest chunk I keep safely in my pocket.  Every so often I reach into that pocket and touch my joy.  It's mine...

Thank you

Prime rib for the homeless

You know the feeling... you're standing half way between the living room and the foyer, exhausted from days of shopping, wrapping, cleaning, cooking, fretting, smiling, and eating- all enhanced by the roller coaster of emotions that accompany the holidays.  The memories of what you had, what you've lost, what you are, thoughts of what you will be.  And now, at this very minute you are waiting for the company to leave. 

Today's dinner guests were not a well-planned bunch, but included some friends I adore and one that my daughter did.  This was supposed to be a day off for me since my son was going to be with his dad.  The weight of the warld was off my shoulders as I have shed my anger and grief, and this was the first holiday that I wasn't completely dreading.  So I was going to do my nails, hike, and take a long hot bath.  But my daughter invited a dinner guest from school.  This girl, she said, had no family.  Okay... What the heck.  So I invited some friends as well.  Prime rib, sweet potatoes, and an assortment of desserts.  Gripe as I may, I love doing it.

The woman, Ursula, didn't seem to be too much of anything.  She was plain and unassuming, but the more that she spoke the more I realized how bright she was.  Kate had told me that she was one of San Diego's homeless and that she lived in shelters and had nothing.  She talked about how Ursula dragged a duffel bag to and from school each day, filled with all of her possessions.  Before today was over Ursula was the proud owner of a new rolling duffel bag, a laptop computer, shampoo, a backpack and some designer duds. 

When she first walked through the door she stared at the beautiful mountains just beyond the expansive sliding doors, the Christmas trees so sweetly decorated, the pretty furniture and the beautifully set table.  There was nothing in her gaze other than pure gratitude for what she was to be a part of . She loved the food, but ate modestly in spite of the bounty.  She engaged in the conversations with a child-like inquisitiveness when something was not already in her realm.  She could not stop the thank yous from falling from her lips as my daughter showered her with gifts she never imagined she'd be getting.  Jen and I sat across the great room listening to Kate's laughter and joy in this giving extravaganza.

As we stood in the living room saying our goodbyes she thanked me first for all of the gifts.  She made mention of my beautiful daughter and how blessed we are.  She was right.  For all of the things that I have always wished for my children, to be humble, gracious and giving have always been my favorites.  Then she thanked me for helping her to feel like a child again.  She explained, in no uncertain terms, that she had felt that life and God had given up on her.  Our simple acts validated for her that she mattered as a person. 

The final part of her oratory was what moved me the most.  She was worried that our beautiful gifts would be stolen by the other "residents" of the shelters.  Then she told us how she has learned to be grateful for what she does have, even when it's taken from her because these are just things and with a lot of practice and faith she has learned to forgive and understand those who do the taking.  Her main focus has been and continues to be, moving forward.  She confessed that she had forgotten this, but was glad to realize it again.

Her beaming smile was the greatest gift that I never thought to ask for.  For all of the hundred or so thank yous that spilled from her lips throughout the night, the one from which I couldn't shield my tears, was the final one where she thanked us for our love, in a shaking, crackling voice.  I almost didn't want her to leave, but hey- I was tired and life owed me a long, hot bath.

Early in the day today Kate picked my mutant lemon off the tree because it had ripened.  It was the sweetest smelling lemon I've ever inhaled.  You never really know how anything is going to turn out.  Sometimes things just seem so dark.  And sometimes, there is nothing but light.  Can't have one without the other.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

Thumper

Reaching for yours

I catch myself remembering

that hand-holding 

is not my thing

Never been one to cuddle much

yet this morning clenching my pillow

my thoughts were of you

Not for nothing, but life taught me

that love isn't magical

yet bunnies thump in my tummy

whenever you are near

Don't like talking on the phone

but I find myself staring

at my pretty red one,

wondering what you might say

I thought that I might never know 


desire again yet I ache

at the thought of touching you…

…you touching me

Who would have thought

this broken heart

could ever 

thump again? 














 

My wish list

The three wise children would like to know what I want for Christmas.  I haven't thought all that much about wanting anything because on the one hand I have too much.  On the other what I still want is not available on Amazon.com.

What I want more than anything is to live in a world filled with understanding and compassion.  If we didn't have to experience the painful infliction of egoic manipulations of angry, sad and lost people, I would be happier.

Every time I see someone doing something for another with no expectation of return, my soul swells.  I guess I would like a little more of that.

I wish that more people would see that their neighbors, their animals and their earth are all a part of them- just as important as they are.  This might cut down on hatred, judgment and all kinds of isms and pain.

Please be happy.  Make good choices that serve your better selves.  And then teach this to my grandchildren.

I wish that people would realize that they are the miracles which they seek.  Enlightenment is not going to be found in a guru or doctrine, but in your own eyes, soul, heart, and self.  Listen to and feel what your soul knows- don't just recite another's thoughts.

I want you to always see the wonder in each drop of dew, on each blade of grass, in every field, every day.  If the twinkling of stars calls you, and if the roar of the ocean finds its way to soothe your soul, I will have enough.


These are the things that I wish for.

Hope

Oh let me be the one

Who fills and moves your sails

The one who thrills your senses

a Love that never pales

Let me be the coupling

That conducts your flowing current

The pulse that beats and quickens

The one your yearning dream meant

My heart knew yours

So long ago

It might have been a dream

But then I saw your

Face once more

Among the living realm

Why don't you want to be the one

The one who’d die to move me

The one who craves this radiant vibe

To soothe your soul completely

Oh won’t you be the kiss of g~d

Your lips upon my lips

My sweetest song, like heaven's touch

Strummed from your fingertips

Your heart knew mine

Before, I know

In a different place and time

But when I saw your face 

in this familiar place

I dreamed you’d soon be mine