"To Do, To Do, and Done" Fun

No more  karma bucket list of  to dos. May soon be time to turn to social responsibility. However, not this weekend.
Now is the time to celebrate the present and really claim the future as beauty, joy, and great new adventure.
A desire or two may come to pass, but there are no regrets, no expectations, no disappointments. What a wonderful life this has been.

Pressure wash the porch. Done
Hang the wreath and other holiday  decorations. Done
Send, wrap, give gifts. Done
Invite the guests. Done
Create a new tree. Done
Mop the floor. Done
Add the center extension to the table. Done
Bring out the holiday cloths, place mats, candles and wreaths and  transform the space. Done
Sous chef the tortellini, scalloped potatoes and ham, three quiches (feta+spinach, broccoli+mushroom+provolone, pepper+onion+mushroom+ham+cheddar). Done
Bake cake, blueberry pie, lemon tarts, cookies. Done
Roast pecans and almonds. Burned!!
Squeeze oranges and purchase champagne and chill all. Done
Pull silver, crystal, china out of storage, wash, and set tables. Done
Put out chocolates, fruit jells, nuts, chips and dip. Done
Bake quiches, kielbasa, bacon, biscuits. Done
Warm tortellini, scalloped potatoes, apple pie. Done
Sweep and mop floor several times during the preparation. Done
Place everything for serving. Done
Light the candles. Done
Greet guests, offering mimosas or egg nog. Done
Announce dinner is served. Done

So twelve neighborhood folks gather to celebrate together at brunch at the White house (!!).  75-80 degrees, sunny.slight breeze off the lake. Relaxation and great conversations.Feeling at home here at home. Does it get any better than this?
 Clean up. Maid's day off. No problem - no maid anyway!!.

May your year unfold in blessings and bloom in grand adventure and celebration.
What are you considering as your next great adventure?.

The Really Real Walked out of Dream Into Heart Space

L-R  Mother, Daughter, Father - together for the first time ever

Determined to experience this momentous occasion with full freedom to feel gratitude, I remained mindfully aware of my emotions at any given time. In response to my willing of the fullness of body/mind/emotion/spirit, I found myself saying out loud to myself, "I just can't grasp that this is really actually happening."

Our first outing was a drive to Bellevue to the Cheesecake Factory for dinner. As we approached the restaurant, we couldn't help but notice that the street was decorated at each sidewalk light with a large white snowflake together with a drumming drummer. There was a choir somewhere performing the traditional carols with an updated dancing beat. I couldn't help but wonder if the angels had not arranged this whole extravaganza just so that we might formally begin our time together as a great celebration.

By the fourth evening for me and third evening for my daughter, I was beginning to reckon with the full acknowledgement that we were all, indeed, strangers with genetically interwoven linkages. I had attempted to be but a joyful participant observer of the meeting of father and daughter, but was realizing that I was woven right into the relationship, as were daughter's daughter and father's son.

Caroline, Paige, Kurt, Moi, Raoul at Pike Place Fish Market, Seattle, WA

I pride myself on my well developed ability to disidentify. Yet, here I was totally immersed in that which had been a dream for so many years and now was really real. There must have been love in abundance during this miraculous five day gathering. Really real reigned.  I cried, really cried for the first time since my daughter left my arms so many years ago.

Then Freedom opened its arms for remembering and feeling the loss which had ripped out my heart way back when. I was finally able to embrace it all and let it go.

Our final outing was at a waterfalls park. I found this to me a most appropriate setting to let spirit flow freely in and among our hearts, just as river falls over the ridge, into a pool below, before continuing on its journey.

  The past was approved. Pieces of spirit were returned to each others Souls. 

The future and the separate lives we lived suspended until our return. 

We walked in the beauty of the precious short time we were 

so very privileged to share together.

And now we are home. Nothing changed. Everything different.

How will the future be different, as now continues?

Thank You for the Music

 Music is, for me, a channel to connection with the emotional body.

Music is, for me, a channel to connection with the emotional essence of relationship to another, to others, to universal heart.

My Dad was a musician and our family was connected through his musical performing.

Most beaus I have chosen have been musicians and our hearts were connected through music.

I would also have to say that, without the music, both my Dad and my beaus were otherwise unavailable emotionally. This is to say, that, these relationships were not true love connections where heart space has freedom of expression in its pure form. I would even go so far as to say that these relationships were one sided, not about we, but about he. I was a tag along and always an outsider.

I would also have to say, that being connected emotionally with the freedom to express love is a basic human need. I do believe many studies have been done to prove the healing connective power of music in individuals and as well in communities. Movements ride into power through music.

When I am alone, I put on the music and connect with the universal heart. Creativity flows, and my emotional body dances with joy. This experience is healthy. But it is not enough. Living is not healthy if it is one sided, if it is performing music to maintain distance from real heart connection or if it is getting lost in music to maintain isolation from real intimacy of the heart.

What is missing today, in my life, in community life, in the world, is music which is mutually expressed and experienced - couples dancing, choirs singing, groups chanting...waves of music drifting through the air around the earth, transforming apathy to care, fear to courage, doubt to risk, diversity into unity.

Abba said it well.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MfM9gQkfwyg

May the music fill your holiday season with love filled circling of the dance of intimate connections of thearts

The Way of of Metamorphosis

The fruits of a long journey of growth.

A few years ago, I cleared my bookcase and stored all the books in sealed plastic,then sealed those packages in plastic bins and sealed them with duct tape. They, therefore,  survived the hurricanes, molding, and spider infestation. The book collecting and reading began in the early 80's and continued until about the end of the century.

Even though that is less than thirty years, I like the image it portrays of a long life's time. The books represent a metamorphosis - a journey way deep and high into the world of Spirit and therein, an intimate connection with Soul has been tasted.

I had stored the books in  six plastic tubs. As I pulled off tape and began to browse through the contents, a motivation emerged  to begin sorting the books in these plastic tubs.

One book, The Nameless Nobleman is an historical fiction, written about Francis LeBaron, who represents my origins in North America. This is one fourth of my family tree. Dr. LeBaron found his way to the Plymouth Colonies.

Another is Psychosynthesis Typologies, a small purple book, translated by Carol (now) Blanchard. This was my first introduction to psychosynthesis and was given to me when a colleague returned from the USA to our place in Kenya. It reansformed the way I saw the different styles of individuals in a group.

In New York City, I bought books for next to nothing at Strand's when a new book first came out. They are all first edition hardbacks.  Should I keep them forever so great grandchildren can auction them off for big bucks or pass them on while they are still up to date?

There are esoteric books given to me by Findhorn offshoots, all of Jean Houston's books, and at least thirty books on psychosynthesis. There are  self-help books with accompanying retreat manuals which reach to the ceiling, how to meditate books,  books written by personal friends and colleagues, and even natural healing books. To accompany my love for trying new foods, there are many cook books.

I put the books in piles according to when I remember reading and experiencing them. I named each pile for the stepping stone it represented. The journey, newly imaged as a result ,sent me on an inner spiral path rich with the transformative memories that accompanied the procurement of each book.  The books were not in and of themselves transformative. The encounters with the teachers, guides, and authors of these books facilitated the transformation.

Many, many. many events and encounters and book readings contributed to the metamorphosis. It did not happen overnight. The journey is not over. It is never over. The journey is ongoing.

There are more books, yes. But, there is the presence, especially, of the people who wrote them or gave them that have been the real guides on this journey. These gudes pass on the transformative power contained in each book.

Which books have been symbols of your own journey. Who led you to them?

Father and Daughter to Meet for the First Time

The Pomelos are ready for harvest

Yes, my daughter, Caroline, will soon meet her natural father, Kurt.

We are all headed for "a gathering of the clan" in December in Seattle area.

Granddaughter Paige,  grandson Justin (hopefully), granddaughter Kathleen (wishfully) and step-brother Raoul and I will be included. We will all have the privilege of witnessing this  miraculously rare completion of this 47 year circle of never knowing each other.

The result - a golden ring of finally becoming real. (Maybe the metaphor is "brass ring", but if it was, it turned to gold over the years.)

I am sure we are all curious about each other and contemplating how to create this circle, which ordinarily takes a life's time, in a few short days. I'm sure we all swing between desire to avoid it all and wild anticipation.

Father and a daughter will greet each other, fully acknowledging the bond that has always been there, embracing each other's existence, feeling gratitude and appreciation for this unconditional presence of life-long and latent love.

Seems like it just keeps on getting better.

One thing for sure. We each will carry away with us that golden ring, symbol of this extra ordinary moment  in our life's time. How we carry it, will depend on our own reflections.

Can anyone predict the future? Can we know our own reflections when this "gathering of the clan" is over and we all head our separate ways to continue on with our lives?

I find it incomprehensible that we all roll our eyes and sigh with relief that it is now done. We will have great fun and conversation, but deep down a shift in being will have occurred.

How do you process life-changing occasions? How do you get to the great juicy "Yes" of it all?

Treetop Reflections

Sunrise at the Atlantic Ocean, North Carolina, taken by Brian Lawrence

The trees were full of starlings -- hundreds of them. When a car would pass, they'd all fly away. Then they'd come back, a few at a time. Then another car would pass and they'd all fly away. Then they'd come back, a few at a time. When they were in the trees they'd chirp away and acorns would drop on the aluminum roofs, adding a drumming quality to the chirping and fluttering. I focused on this  performance by nature for a long while. Then, as if I were watching an air show, they flew this way and that in the open air into various formations. Then they all flew away to another group of trees on another block. I was so awed, I forgot to take a picture and hoped they'd come back the next day. But, they didn't.

Synchronicity stepped in and I received, the next day,  a video of a similar experience which occurred in Ireland.
http://vimeo.com/31158841 
Murmurations by Sophie Windsor Clive

Then a week later, I was watching the sun rise. I can watch it rise over the lake at this time of year in the little space between the houses across the street. Given that I have this privilege so rarely now, I arise eagerly to greet the sun. One day, the same trees which hosted the starlings, were filled again - this time with squirrels. One would suspect they were having a world conference. I listened to their chatter while watching the sun rise. Then, I closed my eyes and listened to them for a long moment.

Squirrel on the roof chatting with the cat on the lawn

 Each season holds its wondrous moments where nature reminds us, that in a life's time, there are seemingly endless opportunities to reflect on the vastness and depth of life experience.

How is it that such moments are possible in a world where environmental crisis reigns?

The Ego and I

Luna greets the morning sun and we give thanks.  Pic by Jane Cutler, VA, USA

The title of this blog is a take off from The Egg and I by Betty McDonald. The book spawned Ma and Pa Kettle and Old McDonald (the farmer who had a farm, I'm guessing), was translated into 20 languages, and has been the subject of lawsuits and controversy for stereotyping farmers from the state of Washington and Native American Indians there.

Her books really are very humorous, written in a time when such stereotypes were not being challenged, rather were accepted as the humor it was intended to be at the time. She wrote, I believe from a perspective she knew was not an authentic description of farmers and Native Americans, exposing the prevailing inauthentic mindset humorously. And, she wrote it from her own humbling experiences.

I'm thinking the Ego has been the subject of the same kind of challenging of its good intentions.

 The Ego, I would propose, is not the bigwig that Freud  made it out to be.  Ego is a mind/emotion part of the self that may be healthy or it may be unhealthy.

If everything I am, is all about me-me-me, then it is unhealthy.

A strong Ego, however,  I propose, is  needed in order to access a higher conscious, which I shall term Self with a capital S. The stronger and healthier the Ego, the more available is to this Self  - the place where Wisdom is born and abides, waiting to be accessed.

Sometimes a person with strong Ego comes off as "into him/herself", but when listening closely and watching how this Ego relates to the world around it , it may come as surprising that the Ego's strength is really a cauldron filled and overflowing with wisdom.

If the sharing of the wisdom sends with  the message that this sourcing of wisdom is for a privileged exclusive few, the Ego is unhealthy. If it is used to belittle the unawakened or to manipulate and control, the Ego is unhealthy.

Just as when our bodies are ill, we give them the attention they need in order to become healthy again, so it is with the Ego. In fact, the two may be dynamically interconnected, but that is another whole chapter.

The most inspiring people I can think of all have "Big Egos".  But, are they going on and on about themselves? No. They are sharing the wisdom and guiding others to its source.  These people write, sing, dance, sculpt, paint, design, orate, create, teach, counsel,  etc. etc. etc. with all their hearts, boldly, charismatically, but never with apologies for daring to expose themselves as they do.

These Big Egos humble themselves before us, sharing the presence of Wisdom from its source.

Given that proclamation, now I'm willing to consider the unhealthy ego  - that facet which is unaware of the damage it is doing to those around its self. Nobody is perfect as the picture I have just painted of a healthy Ego, of course. Healthy strong Egos do get carried away on many an occasion. But, I would submit that an unhealthy Ego needs attention. It radiates negativity, negative energy which hurts, slanders, negates, denies, abuses, whimpers,blames, excuses and empowers the big old victim and bully at the same time.

I truly do not believe that anyone is really willing such an impact on others.

How do you rate your Ego? What is it you are willing to be?

Meditating is very simple.

On the porch of the old house at Barberville Pioneer Settlement, FL

.

What shall I do?

I ask myself why I don't want to write blogs any more

My response is that I find them simpleminded and hardly competitive with my prolific and elegant writer colleagues.

However, it was never my intent to compete with anyone. My intent has been to reflect on experiences of my life's time and to share the love of reflection with those who would like to learn how.

Today, as a way of preparing for some deeper reflection, in hopes of not experiencing my product as simpleminded, I was meditating to a drumming piece which was followed by a chant, both of which I followed.

What I noticed for that hour was that no matter how gently I focused on my breathing and awareness of the effect of the music in my body, movie clip images were coming and going, a new one coming as soon as the last one was gone.

Instead of becoming frustrated with my inability to focus, I was reminded of a teaching on this reality, and proceeded to pay mindful attention to each thought, welcoming it into this space before letting it go.  This proved to be meditative ritual in and of itself.

I had an insight, which was really a message from my active imagination.

"Perhaps," it offered, "There is no deeper and more profound and more complex. Perhaps there is simply a coming into the fullness of what is here and now for you in this moment. Embrace it and welcome this into your home."

Who was the comedian who said, "Don't fight it, baby, it's bigger than both of us!" Same  insight, different audience.

What happened when I acknowledged the presence of the movie clips, letting them go was easy. Focusing on breathing in and out became a relaxing exercise, listening to the drumming and the chanting grounded me in the simplicity of mindfully being present - just being me.

There are so many ways to meditate and say, "Yes" to the way it is. What works for you?

Faery Tales Can Come True

Butterfly in plumbago along the fence

A very sweet and lovely 78 year-old  lady at the gym was beginning to act strange.

She had been joyous presence in our group. She'd bring in pictures of her triplet great grandchildren, her eight children, and twenty or so grandchildren and great grandchildren to show us. She had something wonderful to say about anyone whose name was mentioned.

One day, she stared into space instead of sharing her continual gleeful laugh during the workout. She left right away with a stoney glare. I was genuinely concerned, but my intuitions were telling me that she would be okay - just had something important to take care of.

The next day she came back. I could feel her lighter energy, but there was still a disconcerting look on her face. So, I struck up a conversation with her, asking her how she was. Needing to share, she  proceeded to blurt out what she had just been through. It was like listening to a TV detective show melodrama.

When she left the day before, she was on her way to court. A son of her fiance had filed charges against her for illegal trespassing and she had been arrested and released on bail. She had hired an attorney and this court date was ten months later.

Her fiance had been drugged, placed in a memory loss ward in the mental wing, and the son made himself executor of the estate and power of attorney.

The 80-year old man had not been ill at all. He was CEO of his a very successful business, had lost his wife to cancer, and was just getting back into the swing of things with his engagement to this lovely lady.

At the court date, charges were dropped, as might have been expected, and she did not have to pay a fine nor go to jail because she was not able to pay.

The judge turned to the son and ordered him to show proof of his side of the story within a certain number of days. His father had retained the same attorney, who just won the first half of his case. The attorney had already been working on the release of the man from his illegally coerced confinement.

"These things just don't really happen in real life," I found myself saying. But, they do, and this did happen.  And once again, as in faery tales and sometimes detective stories, there is a great possibility for a happy ending ever after. We are waiting for the outcome, but feel certain that the two lovers will be able to dance on into their real life faery tale.


I have no idea why a son would do that to his father. Do you? Will this couple get to live happily ever after?

I'm possible

“Nothing is impossible, the word itself says ‘I’m possible’!”—Audrey Hepburn 

I dreamed that a piece of the satellite fell  in my front yard. It didn't harm anything, plunging deep into the ground, connecting with the aquifer, which in turn spewed a fountain of water way up into the air.

Hyacinth growing on Lake George along St.Johns River, FL.

What is the meaning of this dream? Why did I have it at this moment in a life's time? Here's how I answered these questions.

Satellite piece?   Latest news all of which is pending - remnant of a pioneering venture

My yard? It's about a social reality which is green, flowering, and trees ready to harvest

Plunging deep into the ground? all of which is affecting me deeply

Aquifer?   at the source  of emotions

Spewing fountain of water? releasing of long repressed emotions in a positive way

I'm sure Freudians would have a different take on this, which might be an interpretation for them. But, for me, libido is not limited to sex, just as kundalini is not primarily a sexual experience.

However, I suppose I am using some interpretation from Jungian collective symbolism.

However, I decide all alone, the meaning of my dreams, as well as my life experiences. 

I decide all alone, how I will be, what I will do, and who I am. 

Of course there are some givens. Mine, therefore,  is to decide the relationship I will take to them.

Neither my mother, my father, my sisters, brothers, friends, enemies, colleagues, nor anyone else determines how I live. I can submit to their will in order to be loved, but it is I who decided to submit.

If I will to be or do and I have no support around me, I create the support from within. 

I find the money I need. I create the connecting story if others are involved. I make it happen. Impossible is not an option.

If it doesn't work out exactly as I have planned, the unexpected outcomes do not determine who I am, how I be, or what I do.

Let the satellite remnants fall where they may. I receive their impact into my heart with gratitude.

I willingly release expectation and anticipation of life being other than it is. 

I choose  to be the possibility of "Yes" to the way life is.

And you? How do you respond to new information - that which is going on in the world and in your life?

No Fear!

This hanging vine plant has been growing in this pot for six years. Just this year flowers began to bloom all along the vines.

We are waiting for the arrival of a severe rain storm. The wind is blowing gently, but wildly, and the sun comes out and goes behind the clouds as clouds swirl by. This isn't a hurricane, but the clashing of two fronts,  making the atmosphere susceptible to tornadoes. This was fine when all tornadoes came from the southwest and moved northeast. My home is down hill and safe from a tornado. But, these clashing fronts is a whole different story.

As I have become accustomed to doing, I am mindful of my relationship to the environment. Because this weather pattern is rather new in this immediate vicinity - new to me anyway - I am experiencing fear.

Fear of the unknown? Fear of disappointment? Fear of possible permanent separation? Fear of loss of love? Fear resulting from unresolved issues from the raging abandon of the wind?

The fear is not about the pending storm at all, finally. The pending storm is about what's going on inside of me as I am experience life right now.
 
While I write, I am listening to Joan Baez, who just began singing  "Riding Out the Storm...  like a ship safe at anchor". How synchronistic of this song to play at this moment. As a message arrives from Higher Self,  the storm is not gone. The storm's fury is still pending,  but the fear subsides.

This is not the direction I was initially taking this blog, but sometimes the wonder of it all finds its way into this space where unresolved issues threaten safety with their raging storm.

From my very limited experience with Buddhist meditation, I am reminded of this space of "NO FEAR" which accompanies or results from intense focus an orange dot.

Another image from the environment is this blog's photo. The flowers bloomed all down the vine after six years of growth - near death from drought, near drowning from too much rain, near freezing from the cold.  They bloomed earlier this year, they died, and new flowers are blooming now.  In addition, flowering on this type of vine is a delight I have never experienced.

These blooming flowers are also a reminder of this place of  NO FEAR" as this new storm blows its way through my home.

The storm will be blowing through, claiming a promise that it will pass when it has had its way. The plants, trees, and grass will be greener as a result.


How have you experienced "NO FEAR"?  Has it freed you to be mindful of and be able to attend to  your unresolved issues?

YES! To Whole Systems Transformation

Ripples from footsteps in a pool

As we move around here and there throughout the day, all the time, every day, we are creating waves of energy . These energy waves interact with others' energy waves.

There's no getting around it.

No one ever gets to live in total isolation from everything else.

Many of us are sensitive to the nature of these energy waves.

Now that I am very much aware of them and the fact that they intrude on others' and theirs on mine, I have been making a concentrated effort to meditate regularly to infuse my own energy waves with positivity.

People get physically  sick from negative energy pounding into our bodies and people heal and grow from positive energy  waving its way in and through the collective presence of energy waves around us. 

From my perspective, what's happening in the USA today is a great "NO" being announced to decades if not centuries of being pounded  by the energies of an economic system which oppresses and has the potential to destroy the world. 

While it appears at first that the great "NO" is negative energy waves, I say it is the opening up of a well spring of positive energies insisting on  a whole systems transformation of the way we use and distribute resources, human and otherwise.

It's happening on Wall Street. It is evident in the overthrow of governments world-wide.  Organizations as well as corporations are experiencing the crisis of needing to change the way they operate.

It has taken awhile for the major contradiction to become obvious, but I can hear and see it out there now.  No more time to complain abou the need for change and what needs to change . No time left to attack change agents and leaders because they aren't super heroes flying through the air to save us all.

Will a movement as strong as that in the 60's and 70's emerge to fuel the transformation?

Depends on individuals collectively making passionate positive focused waves of energy.

Makes me want to sing folk songs *where have they gone?)- and yes, dance with Zorba (tell me I don't have to go all the way to Greece to dance with him)!

Can you hear and see the great "NO" to the status quo - and the great "YES" to a whole systems transformation?

Finding Your Heart Song

At USAF air show in Wichita,TX

Bless me with your laughter.
Enchant me with your song.
Your joy is my sweet sunshine.
Shine on!
  Dorothy Mendoza Row

On my very recent trek to Oklahoma to visit family, I became keenly aware of the presence of the wind blowing across the plains. This is the same wind that creates dust bowls and is the guiding force behind raving ice storms in winter. However, during my visit, I experienced this ever present wind as laughing and singing its joy filled song. This wind replaced the overbearing heat of the sun with pleasant air on my skin. I enjoyed just breathing.

One Saturday, during my visit, I had the privilege of spending a day in retreat with three other wise women. I say "other" because that day I slowly began to really experience myself as among them. The day was a rare blessing of that sense of belonging instead of being the eternal outsider of such a circle of wisdom.  This was refreshingly humbling.

The land around us had recently been ravaged by a forest fire. Conna, whose home sits on this land, told the story of the wall of fire approaching her house. The fire didn't get the house. Perhaps she, who also walks with the ancestors of this land,  was protected by the wind's direction.

She and Jan, the facilitator of "Finding Your Heart Song", the reason for my coming to this circle that day, is a genius when it comes to group process. With that and her 25 years experience facilitating community renewal with native American Indians in Canada, the day had no chance to be other than a kairotic moment in a life's time.

Pat shared her poetry, which I imagined as the delightful laughter of the wind weaving the sunshine gently in and through us.

I am feeling that the heart song we all found that day was the song of the wind itself. As Greg Mortensen  was taught by his Afghan guru to "listen to the wind" for wisdom, perhaps that is where we will find our heart song - or its updated version.

I will return to that day in my memory and listen to my heart song being carried by the wind straight to my heart and out through my voice. I did some bit of listening that day. I heard "Joy is Here.  Here is Joy" - a breathing in and a breathing out of the magical wind that glides across the plains in Oklahoma.


When is a time you were trying too hard to "listen to your heart? (Pat's departing words to me)

Wondrous Sunset Reflects Family Visit

Sunset September 25, 2011, Marlowe, OK

My son, grandson, and I drove home to Oklahoma from the World Championship Horse Show in Ft. Worth to their  home in OK. My son helped me set up living quarters in the camper outside their house. This visit was a rare occasion, one I have been wanting to do. I miss connecting with family, even envy friends who get to spend time with their children and grandchildren often.

 After my grandson was in bed, I made my way out to the camper, excited to be sleeping outside under the stars - another thing I enjoy and haven't done for years . The luxurious pop out camper has a metal roof and zipper flaps to open to a screened in view of the vast night sky.

I had left an overhead light on and when I opened the camper door and stepped inside, I inhaled a swarm of "noseeums", a southern colloquialism for tiny fruit fly like bugs named so because they are not necessarily visible to the average eye. I went back to the house to get a wet towel to swish them away, did so, then found my way in the dark but bugless air, to bed, a bit leery now of this venture.

Exhausted from a pricelessly precious weekend with family, I fell right to sleep.

The next day, accustomed to living in Florida where bugs are a way of life, I cleaned out all the nooks and crannies of the camper - anywhere a bug might hide. I was determined to enjoy this chance to breathe the fresh air and feel it on my skin.
.
The rest of the day was a whirlwind day with the rest of the family returning, unpacking, and grandson's soccer game. Delightfully exhausted again, at the end of the day, yet really unable to sleep from the miracle of spending time with family, I sat in the bed  watching the sun set and listening to the coyote's howl and cows moo in the near distance - and the practice bombs exploding on the Army base.

All day, hot and sunny as it was, the skies held a shapely array of cumulus clouds.  As I watched the sun set, I realized that I was watching an extraordinary sight. The combination of the atmosphere and the now distant clouds in the west were painting a marvelous art form in the sky.

I grabbed my camera and shot until the sky was totally dark and the stars appeared at the top of the sky through the screened in camper.

I rested on my back and stared at the stars, reflecting on the visit so far, eagerly anticipating an upcoming tomorrow.

Will it be wonderful?  The sunset said it all.

When is a time you felt the beauty of the dance of nature painting a reflection of your Soul?

It's All About Pearls

Moi through a prism

In St. Augustine, down one of the alleys off St. George Street, there is a little pearl shop.
The owners are from Poland and Michigan.

They have a beautiful story about how they happened to come to own the shop.

For years, they came to St. Augustine for vacation and would visit the shop - and buy a pearl necklace or other hand made creation. For fifteen years they did this.  The woman had a fine collection of jewelery
 which she loved.

They talked about how they'd like to own the shop and discussed it casually with the then owner whenever they were in the shop.
.
When the owner actually did decide to sell, he made them an offer - one which they did not refuse.
They sold their home in Michigan, found one near St. Augustine, and opened the shop.

All the jewelry is made there on site by the owners.

Randy through a prism

This story is important, not because someone successfully had a business dream come true.

this couple loved the pearls and they loved the creations of pearls. They were happy enough with their life in Michigan and their vacations to Florida. When their casual desire to live what they loved fully appeared, they grabbed the brass ring on the merry ground to live what they love.

We all have our passing desires which we have passed off because what we are doing is okay enough.

Some of us have known exactly wherein is our bliss and have followed it to its fruition.

Some of us have been fortunate enough to have always lived what we love.

Yes, it is about taking a "Yes" relationship to what we have. But, there is more. It's about opening the doors to beauty in a life's time.

Chris through a prism

What's your story about living the life you love?

Kenya: Life Lessons from Risk

New tracks in process. Taken near Concord, MA

An African-born colleague and I finished teaching a Village Leaders Institute in Western Kenya.  We returned to Nairobi, via a night bus.  I, being the only white face on the bus, was very grateful for having a team mate with me, in the middle of the night when some military looking men with guns stopped the bus, entered, and began searching bags.

Of course, these men were going to search my bag, which was a light blue suitcase, obviously not local. The men shouted some orders at me, which my colleague translated as orders to open my bag.  I was new to Kenya, and new to military intervention, (except for being punched in the gut by a billy club and hosed during a demonstration in the 60's - pointed guns not included.)

I was very naive, I admit, and with little common sense, to say the least.  But, my politely direct  response to this "bully" with the gun was, "I will be happy to open my bag at the American Embassy if you would like to view the contents."  My colleague, almost unable to breathe, whispered, "Give him the key!! Let him have your bag!!"

However, while he was saying this and I was searching for the key, the man with the gun pointed at me, changed his mind about having to see the contents of my bag - or anyone else's - and left the bus ordering the rest of the  men to do the same.

Within the next few seconds, I realized I could be shot, or at least beaten. As they left the bus, I caught my own breath, wondering if they were going to shoot the whole bus. Sheer terror held us all prisoners in those few moments before the men drove away.

The bus started to move again and we continued our journey to Nairobi and then onto another bus to our training center in Kamweleni, Machakos District.

While we were riding through the dark, somewhat reflecting on the experience, my colleague let me have it with his perspective on how I reacted.

Later, I learned  he was in Kenya without a passport because he was in political exile and I had really put his future among us at great risk. When I learned this,  I was even more mortified.

This information about my colleague may or may not have been true. I haven't been able to confirm it today as fact or legend. The possibility of its being true is the reason I have not mentioned his name. I also want to add that he was an exceptional young man, admired by all.


Dang that pride of mine. It wasn't an attachment to my belongings, but the injustice of it all - leftover passion from the 60's revolution days.  It could have  meant real problems for my colleague , should they notice we were connected. It could have been serious for everyone on the bus.

At the same time, maybe my intuitions and reactions were on target in that moment. One never knows.
But, some forty years ago, some women were still considered dumb broads in general. (No self-depreciation to be inferred here - merely a forgiven recollection of modus operandi at the time.)

I can only say now, that something strange and powerful was in charge that night.

When we arrived in Kamweleni, I was still shaking inside.  Relieved that we were safe, we wanted to share the success of the Village Leaders Institute and our terror filled encounter.

Living and working in  Kenya held diverse experiences. Watching people enlivened with new hope and possibility  brought balance to the affect of the less desirable experiences.

Those less desirable times each held a blessed life lesson which is much more valuable than rewards and recognition.

As I reflect on my journey through this life's time, I recall many moments before and after Kenya that I would rather not have lived. The decisions needed were more than I would prefer, given the opportunity.  Never was it a matter of right or wrong.  An occasional decision between right and right is  relatively easy for the most part. It is these decisions between wrong and wrong that tend to be put in a box to be forgotten.

They do come back eventually, expecting resolution and opening a door to self-forgiveness.
There will be impossible decisions still to make and  lessons still to learn as the journey continues.

What do you recall as a moment you made a decision, which held you in life or death suspense ?

9/11

Libeskind's original master plan for the World Trade Center site

I was ready to publish another blog, when I remembered it is the 9//11 remembrance time of year. Everyone will be sharing their stories, especially this year, about their experience of the day.

I was a guidance counselor at the time. The preschool teacher came into the office and announced with a definite aura of frenzy, that a plane had just crashed into the World Trade Center. Of course, the TV in the office went on just in time to see the second crash.

Stunned, I watched  blankly with everyone else.  Within a minute or two, I gathered my wits and attended to the preschool teacher, returning with her to her room full of toddlers who, even though they didn't have a clue, were nevertheless paralyzed with fear by the shocked responses of the teachers and assistants.

We sat in a circle, on the alphabet rug. I listened while each told of their reaction to the TV scenes.  All were scared. I worked with them until they relaxed a bit and recovered a sense of trust in being where they were.

I was, of course, especially concerned that the teachers and assistants regained their balance in order to continue the day.

During that time, the Principal made an announcement, knowing that parents would have already called their children's cell phones, in panic, and there would be a teacher or two with the TV on, too.  They were invited to ask for help if they needed it while processing with the students. Then, the day proceeded, TV on full time.

My own personal response was wondering how my son, his wife, and my grandson had fared, as well as friends who work in that neighborhood. Rob was working on a set right there in the plaza.  No cell phone at the time, I had to wait to get home that day to make the calls.

During the next few weeks, I spent a considerable lot of time counseling children and speaking with parents.  Several children had been watching it at home, had family in NYC, and were experiencing 9/11 as if they were actually there.

I attempted to sort out, with each, the difference between actually being there, and actually experiencing its impact while watching TV.  Children are naturally empathic, I believe.

In truth, I believe that it is as natural as breathing. It hides itself as we are wounded by even normal life experiences, but definitely with traumatic life experiences. 


Not one person, was not affected by 9/11. It was a global tragedy - a traumatic event that has influenced major decisions since that day.

In 2008, I visited the gaping hole that remains. The intensity of the energy of emptiness there was overwhelming.  I asked myself, "What will it take to fill this hole that has been left in the hearts of everyone."

Recovering and teaching empathic connection might just be what the world needs at this time.

What was your 9/11 experience?  How has it affected your ability to empathize?

Shadow is cast by Sun

As a youngster, there was a tropical storm in upstate NY. Dad took my brothers and I to the top of Paris Hill. His car, mostly because of the wind velocity,  didn't have enough horse power to make it up the hill. After several tries, each one head starting further away from the hill, the car was finally able to get up the hill. 

When we arrived, we piled out, full of anticipation catalyzed by Dad's enthusiasm.  We all raised our arms out like angels and experienced the strength of the wind and our own strength in resisting it.

Dad, who was not one to talk to us much at all, surprised me when he announced, "Feel that power?  That is God!"
 
I must have been impressed enough  to have remembered that experience for more than half a century.

Since we three children, who I remember as being very young,  were not blown away or struck by flying debris, I checked the archives for storms in that area around that time.

Tropical storm winds at the end of August 1949 were recorded, reporting no known damage. (And Wow!, I learned there were a few hurricanes in the '50s which hit NYC.)

This year, at the end of August,  the hurricane named  Irene, a thousand miles wide,  headed right up the Atlantic coast. Driving winds and rain created havoc all along the way. In its wake, I am reminded of that storm in 1949 and remember my father's words. 

Hurricanes! Tornadoes! Flooding,! Drought! Earthquakes!  Tsunamis! Wildfires!

We all appear to be standing present to the shadow of God these days with increasing intensity. I have learned from experience, that they all come with the blessing of change in some form or another, although it may not be obvious at the time.

There is a sunshine presence of God that cast these shadows. How will you name the face of the Sun ?

Enough with the inner journey already!

New growth on juice orange tree in the yard

Except for Zumba in the morning and dinner with Dick, I spend most of my day alone. I am co-chair of a not-for-profit organization in North America (AAP) which takes up some time. Otherwise, I am  writing,  or cleaning, reading, or meditating to the music,  (and veging out with reruns, of course!)

The inner work has been important and the healing consistently providing new strength for being a co-chair. However, a shift is occurring and I am becoming aware of a desire to respond to the world around me. It's like a magnet - or being a teenager with puppy love.

I thought about going back to work in a new after school program - 2 two hours a day, four days a week, but just couldn't bring myself to fill out the update to send in. I will not do what I do not love anymore.

I made gluten free oatmeal and almond flour chocolate cookies for myself. I made chocolate drop cookies for Dick. I prepared and canned 8 pints of jalapeno relish and packed four quarts of them whole, and froze some other hot peppers.

Then, I began a painting on a canvas I had stretched four years ago. It is the missing link on this vast and deep spirit journey I've been on. The reason that it is the link is this. It gets me creating scenarios for how I might once again live a life of service with meaningful purpose - how to serve the healing of the ecological disasters of our time, contribute to  political systems transformation, shift perspectives on the distribution of resources, join in on the new forms of education needed for our children!

As I paint, scenarios flood into my imagination with the same vengeance as have been memories of yore. How refreshing this has been.  My paintings will not be famous, nor will I. But, I experience happiness while painting a picture and creating a scenario for social change at the same time.

The days are over when I go traipsing through the villages again or attempt to coordinate another retreat. But, my imagination is on a roll and something new is in the forming - something that includes being happy, as well,  - is bound to result.

Where have  you been drawn to responding to the crisis the world is in right now?  What is the key to this happening?

Heart of My Heart

From my birthday, even dead, they are a wonder

I heard a song on the TV a week or so ago that I remembered from childhood:"Heart of my heart" meant friends were dearer then. Too bad we had to part. I know a tear would glisten, if once more I could listen, to that gang that sang "Heart of my Heart:.

 

My friends and I knew it by heart (!) and performed it in the little shows we'd put on in the neighborhood.

Then, on Pandora,  I listened to Emmy Lou Harris singing, I Will Dream -- "In my imagination, you are my true companion...". It struck me that this was more of a song sung by Soul to the listener, rather than the listener to a lost love. It was for me at this moment, any way.

Then,  a short while later, I heard Emmy Lou again, this time singing  All You Have is Your Soul, by Tracy Chapman. I began to listen to this call from the deeps of my  heart. I began to be mindful of the message in these and each song I heard for the next few days.


On a TV rerun of one of the early Bones (my favorite vege out show), in the song toward the end, in the background, the words were, "...Bring on the wonder. Bring on the song.  I pushed you down deep in my soul for too long...."


Each of the songs I am hearing are awakening memories of yore, both fond memories and those I would rather not have lived - and others along this spectrum.

I wake up in the morning and snippets of images of yore come in with  a vengeance. So, rather than wake up and spend the day grieving needlessly, I created a little ritual  of affirmation for each. I let it come into the screen of my partial waking, remember it, acknowledge its impact, give it a hug and a kiss, thanking it for its appearance and the lesson I learned from having lived it, and send it on its way.  


Some amazing stuff has been coming in to say, " Hello," before moving on to its place in the orchestra of my life's time. 


I am all these memories of my life's time, and I am more than these memories - all their physical, emotional, mental, spiritual relationship to me.

I am well ready to heed  the call from Soul to allow its presence, from within the deep center of my heart, as my true companion.

Photography by Jeri Umble, from her garden

Change When it all Turns to Minutia!

Tree that survived wounding early in life. Look at it today!!

Seven of Pentacles Reversed

Getting mired down in the details of a projects. Feeling there is room much to do alone, so you stop working altogether. Tired of waiting for goals  to manifest. Working too hard without taking time out to enjoy the benefits you are receiving. Spending too much time going over the details and not enough time enjoying the journey.

That was me. Yes, indeedy! And a lot of other people of whom I know this to be true.

B-U-R-N-O-U-T!!

Definition:  Time to get away, step into the pure heart space wherein abides the essence of Spirit's presence.

When there is nowhere to go.  it seems impossible to  feel that others' spaces and activities are not imposing on a  need to sit and listen to the music of nature's sounds - take time to smell the roses, so to speak..

Someone is always mowing a lawn, trimming a hedge, blowing away leaves, or doing some form of construction. Motor noises constantly, TV blaring, air-conditioners running, motorcycles on a poker run, air boats hunting alligator. ..............

With no special  person to share a common jaunt into the world of Spirit, that leaves only solitary space and time. Solitary Space and Time is a very special friend.

These all used to be a problem - an excuse to keep on doing the same old same old. Every relationship was an I-It relationship, to put it in Martin Buber's terms, and I was there to use and be used.

But know I have another good friend called Heart Space.  Heart Space holds a knowing that what is drawing me to it  outside myself abides there  inside and is calling for attention.

"Baby doll, if you no pay attention, you get yourself mighty sick," comes the cry from  the "silent voice of knowing" .  

Body begins to communicate the silent voice's messages with all sorts of aches and pains,  accidents, diseases, and attacks - increasingly more intense with each attempt to communicate.

I didn't pay attention, even with all my training and daily disciplines of paying attention. Finally, my bodily  heart said, "I am tired of this. Change what you are doing - and your relationship to it, - quit pretending you can endure this minutia driven job -  or I'm shutting down and taking you down with me!"

So here I am three and a half years later, and one heart failure later. If I fall into the same old pattern of shoveling the minutia until every bone in my body aches, I begin crying without sadness and I take a lot of naps.

Something new has stepped into support my new decision to go with the flow,engage in what makes me happy and has purpose to me,  take it slow,  pay attention to my own anguish over beginning to drown in the minutia.

I am grateful for that support, for the gently flowing tears, and for the imposed time to close my eyes and dream. I honor that support. I am able to change what I am doing and how I am relating to the one life I have to give . I am grateful for this tired out heart for hanging in there with me  when I fall into the old pattern.

Are you paying attention to that silent voice - your intuitions.?  Are you heeding the warnings your body is sending?  It isn't just real for me, or some people. It's a reality for everyone. Please take the time to pay attention. Take time to process and change.