Serenity Path

I must have hit a nerve. Or, rather, a BUNCH of nerves. Because my readership skyrocketed after I posted "Highly Sensitive Beings". While it's a bit surprising, it isn't. I'm guessing, though, that it has as much to do with the many HSBs on this Planet as it does the need for some semblance of ease. I suppose people are trying not to freak out, what with all the tragic loss of life and the "natural disasters" of late, not to mention the ever-increasing division that has come to the front and center of a nation under duress. But I don't believe this is just a "national" thang. The whole world seems to be in flux, and, for anyone who has such keen sensitivities, it makes for one whopper of a pill to swallow.

I'm not going to repeat what's already been said. You may, if you wish, click on the link (above) and read that before going further. OR, you may just read on here and forgo the previous meandering. Either way, today is about TODAY. In my world, that means another opportunity to find the Joy that abounds. So...

Right now, as I sit before this laptop and listen to the sounds around me, I am hearing the soft rush of water from the pool's waterfall. There is a bird that is singing a song of three notes, the exact same three notes, over and over again. I think it's the Mockingbird that makes its home in the tree right in front of my office window. The "tune" is the whistle call my neighbors make when calling their little dogs to come inside. Over and over and over again, those same three notes.

The wind chimes are intermittent, the sound of church bells in Florence. They bring me right back to that first morning I woke there, just a block from Il Duomo di Firenze, all those years ago. I swore I'd bring that sound home with me. I didn't stop looking until I found the chimes that now hang right outside my back door, large and long and a near-perfect replica of those church bells.

Sophie is snoozing under the bed, safe in her Puppy Cave. All I can see are her fluffy little feet, poking out from 'neath the bed skirt. Her snoring is soft, but adorably audible.

Right now, at this very moment, all is right with the world. Serenity Path is a place. A real place. The place I have made my home. In a world gone mad, and loud, and tragic, here is where I do my part to bring just a little calm.

And Joy.

And Love.

Me thinks the world could use more of all those things.

You're welcome.

{giggles...and a mischievous grin}

Highly Sensitive Beings

In light of recent events on our Mighty Blue Orb, it has become especially apparent (to me) that those of us who are {what other folks like to call} "too sensitive" may be overwhelmed with energy. Not the kind of energy that makes you want to climb Everest. Rather, the kind of energy that can crush you like a bug under a giant's foot. It feels like you cannot breathe. It feels like your brain is about to explode. It FEELS way too much. And it can be awfully tough to handle. That is, unless you realize that your ultra sensitive Self is as strong as it is sensitive.

Highly Sensitive Beings, (HSBs, from here on out), are often the brunt of jokes and abuse and misunderstandings. Often, an HSB will attempt to compensate for her/his sensitivity; they might wear a bravado that is unwarranted. Or use a big voice. Or pretend to be something they are not. These defense mechanisms are merely an attempt to protect the HSB from the often callous Humans who cannot see that the masks are merely that: MASKS. HSBs will sometimes run from the world, simply because they cannot bear the weight of their emotional "gifts". Because, as often as not, they are NOT gifts at all. They are the bane of existence to those who feel so deeply.

Given that there is so much suffering brought to our attention these days, what with a media that prefers sensationalism over truth, and nearly every Human with a "smart phone" thinking that maybe they can grab their 15 minutes of fame, inundation makes for even more weight on such sensitive souls. Not an easy cross to bear.

So...I thought today might be a good day to remind those of you who are feeling overwhelmed to take a few steps back. Step away from the news and the intrusions of a world gone mad. Turn off your gadgets. Lock the doors. Hide, if you must. And gather your Self. The one that is strong and resilient and hopeful. The one that gives you the power to be who you are. Gather that Self and treat it to a day (or five!) of pampering. Ignore the rest of the world. It's okay. You are allowed. In the name of self-preservation. Because if YOU don't, who will?

I know it's hard. I know it hurts. I know you think you may never find your Joy again. But I promise you: You WILL. It WILL get better. It WILL pass. You CAN go on. And you must. Because the WORLD NEEDS YOU. The world is better for having you in it. You are a rare and beautiful flower whose beauty can heal and nourish and scatter Joy like no other.

Yes. I'm talking to YOU.

Hold on to your Joy. It is there, in your heart. It will guide you, if only you allow it.

JUST TRUST.

I have learned...

I have learned that people are more alike than not. No matter where they're "from" or what language they speak, most folks are kind. IF you give them the chance.

I have learned that we have more in common with each other than we might think. Most folks want pretty much the same things: to love and be loved, to take care of their families, to have FUN.

I have learned that once we put aside our "labels" and cease with the judgments, harmony is not only easier to achieve, but quite readily ripples out into the world.

I have learned that when you gather 'round and break bread together, the most common sound you will hear is LAUGHTER. {UNLESS it's family. Then...there's no tellin'.}

I have learned that children know all this stuff better than "grown-ups".

I have learned that the only way to live one's life in a meaningful way is to make JOY a priority. Every. Single. Day.

I have learned that curiosity is the true "Fountain of Youth".

Keep your heart open.
Keep your arms open.
Shut the door on judgments.
Eat together more.
Laugh more.
Stay hungry for "new things".

Choose. JOY.

Can Forgiveness (REALLY) Heal?

It's tricky business: FORGIVENESS. And I've no doubt there are likely about a gazillion articles, books, blogs, podcasts, etc. ad nauseaum, on the topic. Probably because...it's tricky business.

It may be "tricky" for a lot of reasons, but in my experience, after you clear away all the Ego and Excuses and ExtraCurricularBullshit, it turns out, it really isn't so tricky after all. Because, in the end, we all find out (eventually) that forgiveness isn't about whomever it is we blame for our pain or sadness or unfortunate circumstances. The act of Forgiveness is an act of Love...for ourSELVES.

Now, if you've ever read any of the nineteen bazillion "self-help" books out there, you've likely already heard this. OR if you happen to be of a certain religious pedigree. OR if you just stumbled upon this little nugget by "accident" matters not at all. What matters is that you reach that moment. That you finally get it. That you feel the excruciating hole in your heart begin to fill up again. And if you haven't yet reached that moment, perhaps I can provide a little hope for you until you do.

Let us back up for a moment (because you know that it's nearly impossible for me to write in any kind of chronological way).

A few years back, a dear and beloved friend of mine sent me a book she thought I might enjoy. The name of that book is "The Shack". It is a novel, written by a clearly "christian" man, who may or may not have had some semblance of a similar experience to the main character in the story. It is the author's rendition of what he believes is the ultimate answer to all the pain and grief and inexplicable agony we must endure until we find our way back to faith. At that moment in my Life, I wanted no part of any such story. I had (and still have) no interest in stories about "god" or "faith" or religious mumbo jumbo. To me, those stories are nothing more than stolen lore that were rewritten by a bunch of power-hungry men who wanted to control the masses. I've always believed that.

I still do.

Problem arose, though, when it occurred to me that my fascination with Mythology was nothing more than a curiosity about what makes Humans so vulnerable to such stories. I mean, just because millions of people "believe" in some god or other doesn't mean that my inquisitive mind should dismiss their versions of any given Mythology. Just because I fancy Pan or Odin or Kokopelli over the "God of Abraham" is not a good reason to visit a story by some man from Canada who may or may not have a gift to write, right? In the end, three years after she sent me the book the first time, she sent it again. This time I was ready to read it.

I will tell you that the book is beautifully crafted. The story is both excruciating and exhilarating. Between the tragedy of the main character's horrific event and the lengths to which he was willing to go to relieve the pain of his life, the other characters in the story came to life on those pages. By the time I finished, I was wanting more. And believe when I say, I was stunned by this realization.

Fast forward several years: the book has now been made into a movie. Among the cast are the brilliant Octavia Spencer (of "The Help" fame, among others) and the darling Tim McGraw (of Country Music fame). The rest of the cast were actors I'd never heard of. But I really wanted to see it just so I could see how it would compare to the book. {Also, one of the characters is portrayed by a delicious looking man named Aviv Alush. YumYumYummy man!} When it was released on DVD, I rented it and watched with a mix of trepidation and eagerness. Remember, I already knew the story and when I say "horrific", I mean horrific.

I actually had to pause the movie several times so I could gather myself and calm my heart rate down to a reasonable pulse. I called my dear friend and said, "I'm not sure I can watch it." She assured me that I'd be happy I did if I could just make it through the first part of the story. So I grabbed a box of Kleenex, poured a glass of wine, and returned to the film.

I can't even begin to tell you how much this movie affected me. In all kinds of ways. On all kinds of levels. But the one thing that stuck out, days and weeks after I'd watched it, was a particular scene in which the main character must utter the words "I forgive you". It was one of the most heart-wrenching scenes I've ever witnessed. It tore me up so bad that I had to pause (again!) and call my friend (again!) and get a little more assurance that it was "worth it". That scene sticks with me to this day. And brings us back 'round to this whole long-winded missive.

Forgiveness.

Whether of not there is a god, or a place called heaven or Love so powerful it can restore us, is of little importance. People get to choose what to believe in. What god to worship. How to live their lives. But no matter the choices we make, it is essential that we all come to understand that Forgiveness is absolutely, positively essential if we are to live with any semblance of Joy. In the end, no matter what "happens" when we leave the Planet, it is the space in between that makes or breaks a Life. Forgiveness, the most powerful form of Love I know, is the key to such a Life.

But then ... who am I to say?

Merry Merry...

To you, Beautiful Ones, we send our Love...
and a Santa Sack filled with JOY.

Wishing you all the warmth of friendship, family, food,
and a toasty fire.

Keep your heart filled with Gratitude.

Share your Light with all you meet.

Hold dear all the Creatures on our Planet.

SCATTER JOY!

Merry, merry, merriment ~

Camz & Sophie

The Joy Jar

A few years back, I read something somewhere (...don't ask me where. Does it really matter?) about a thing called a Joy Jar; its purpose being to jot down those little moments of Joy when they happen, fold up the note, and drop it into the jar. Then, after a time, (a month, a year, tomorrow...when you're having a super-shitty day), you pop open the jar and read your notes.

Needless to say (but you know I'm going to say it anyway), when you read back those moments of Joy, it brings you right back to the moment...AND the JOY...and your whole perspective changes. Pretty cool, huh?

WHAT A GREAT IDEA!!!

So, I found what I thought might be a proper Joy Jar, pulled out my favorite linen paper, and began looking for things to jot down so I could fill it up. What I didn't know at that moment was how much it would change my day. And when I say "day", I mean all the days that ensued.

You see, when you set out on a new quest, if you're anything at all like me, you get a bit obsessed. As in: you think about it.

All.
The.
Time.

That is to say, if you happen to have an "obsessive personality". (I do.) So it makes sense that I would (think about it all the time). The psychological professionals (of which I am...or was...) call this character trait "Obsessive/Compulsive Disorder", or OCD.

I call it TENACITY.

{At the risk of getting side-tracked here, I'm going to offer up my perspective on this whole OCD thang. I promise I'll get back to the Joy Jar. HONEST!}

First of all, is it just me or has the world gone mad with labeling shit that needn't be labeled? My best guess is that the ginormous pharmaceutical companies are behind all this labeling. Because, let's be honest here, if they label it as a "disease/disorder", more folks are likely to buy the drugs they think they need to overcome said disease/disorder. I have three words for you: Shaking Leg Syndrome.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME????

It's not a "syndrome". It's a symptom of someone who may or may not have anxiety of the highest order. OR they have some energy that needs expending. OR they don't like sitting down for long periods of time. OR....(oh, there are so many...) What it is NOT is a DISEASE/DISORDER. Just something the puny human might like to take some time to address. As in: what are you so freakin' worried about???? You do NOT need drugs. You need to calm the fuck down and pay attention.

Okay. Rant over.

Back to the Joy Jar.

So, I found a proper jar and immediately wrote a little note to remember the finding of the idea and the excitement I felt in this new ritual. {I'm big on rituals.} Dropped my pretty little note into my pretty big jar and found a spot where I wouldn't forget to continue adding to it. Once finished with that task, I went about my day.

Wouldn't you know it, by day's end I had another note to add to my jar. And then...

The next morning, after the usual love fest with my SophieDawg (another of my greatest Joys), I remembered the Joy Jar. I said aloud, "today I shall look for moments that bring me Joy...and put a new note in that jar."

And so I did.

And the next day.
And the next.
And, while it hasn't been every day, it has been more days than not.

{Some days are tricky.}

I wake up in the morning, I snuggle with my puppy and thank the stars for a new day to LOOK FOR moments of Joy to add to my jar. And at the end of each year (or...on those super-shitty days), I pour the contents of the jar onto my bed and relive those moments that I might otherwise have forgotten.

AND...

Yes. It has changed my Life. It has helped me to begin each new day with a sense of adventure and HOPE for what this day might bring. It has helped me to remember that when I look, I find. Whatever I look for. It has helped me to stay afloat on those super-shitty days when I forget that there is far more good than not. Most of all, it has brought me those same joys, over and over and over.

And I can tell you, without question:

Joys NEVER get old.

Even On Your Worst Day...

"Even on your worst day, there is a possibility for JOY."

That quote is from an episode of Castle. He'd been snooping in Kate's desk and found a stick figure made from beach wood and string and assorted beach stuff. After a bit of bickering, she finally told him the story of the object. Turns out it was from the day of her mother's funeral. She and her dad had been surrounded by friends and family, both of them miserable with the whole affair. Her dad grabbed her and whisked her off to Coney Island. There, still dressed in their funeral garb, they walked the beach, gathering treasures and finding their way into the joy of the moment, despite the passing of her mom, his wife. Together they constructed the stick man and she'd carried it with her since that dreadful/joyful day. Castle asked Kate if the day was "a happy one or a sad one". She replied, "Both." And then she said, "He reminds me that even on your worst day, there is a possibility for joy."

It's one of my favorite episodes. And I never forgot that story. So, one day, I decided to try to recreate that stick man. I keep it on my fridge. As a reminder. It always makes me smile. And then...

Today, whilst sitting at my desk, trying to get started on some work, I heard on of the Yorkies barking. Nothing new. They're a noisy pair. But this wasn't a playful sound. It was clearly a sound of distress. I stopped to listen more closely. Three seconds passed before it registered. I jumped out of my chair and ran outside. There I saw Sophie facing the pool, standing statue still. Bentley was facing his house, barking more intensely. Where's Barkley????

I ran to the pool and saw the poor little fella trying desperately to get OUT. The water is ice cold. He's NOT a very good swimmer. I grabbed him up and ran to his house, hollering for his mama. She opened the door to see me dashing up the steps, holding the poor, soaked puppy at arms length. Both Bentley and Sophie were at my heels. She said, "I kept thinking, why won't he stop barking?". All I could think was, thank the gods for my instincts. And for my ability to distinguish their voices. And for Bentley, looking out for his brother. And for Sophie, pointing to the pool. I was so full of adrenaline at that point, all I could do was hand the dog over and go back to my house.

And then it hit me. I couldn't stop crying. I kept thinking about what might have happened if I hadn't gotten up and went out there to see what was wrong. Or if I didn't have that ability to note the different tones they use. Or if Bentley hadn't done what he did. All those images kept screaming through my mind as the adrenaline worked its way out of my system.

Now, as I've typed these words, I can feel my body relaxing. I can feel my heart resume its normal rhythm. The tears have stopped. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. He's okay. DEEP BREATHS.

What's left is this:

Profound gratitude.
For being able to hear what he was saying.
For listening to my intuition.
For both Sophie and Bentley doing their parts.
For getting out there in time to save that little guy.

 As the calm returns, in my head all I hear is:

Even on your worst day, there is a possibility for JOY.

All Else Is Clutter

I saw something today that got me to thinking about the term "reality". Thought now might be a terrific time to muse on the matter, in case someone needs a nudge.

It has become annoyingly apparent that there are people on this planet who would rather stare down at their phones than be part of the world around them. Just recently I did a little experiment (and you know how I love my experiments!). Whilst I was running errands, I started counting the number of people walking on the various streets I traveled. Of those, I counted how many were actually watching where they walked compared to those who were staring at their phones as they walked. I did this several times over the course of two weeks.

{As to why I would do such an experiment, the simple answer is: because I'm curious like that.}

The numbers were startling. More than EIGHTY PERCENT of the people I saw were completely unaware of their surroundings. They were so engrossed in their gadgets they were walking into signs and falling of curbs. It was shocking to me that none of them were hit by cars. I kid you NOT.

Then, today, I saw this comment from a darling woman who wondered aloud why it is that it's "socially acceptable" for people to wear a Virtual Reality headset or chase Pokeman all over town, yet unacceptable for someone to wave a magic wand and talk to faeries. She seemed a bit disturbed by this inequity; I felt her angst the moment I read the words.

It got me to thinking about all this "technology vs. spirituality" stuff. My immediate response to the woman was to offer some gentle words to remind her that "reality" is a personal thing.

Kinda like religion.

Ask anyone who believes in a god, and they'll give you a thousand reasons why theirs is the only god. They may even be able to quote their holy book, chapter and verse. But ask them why they believe it, and most couldn't tell you.

Flip side: ask anyone who swears by their technology and most will tell you, "it makes life easier or better or more efficient". As with religious zealots, they can give you reasons that may seem logical, but they couldn't tell you how or why it's improved their lives.

{Keep in mind, these are general observations. They do not apply to ALL people. There is a point to be made, hence the "general observations".}

And the point is this:

Comparisons will kill ya. Comparisons will cause great distress when one is unhappy with one's current circumstance. Comparisons fuel bitterness. Bitterness will keep you from flying.

That is, if you happen to believe in flying.

In the end, the only "reality" that matters is the one you create, the one you believe, the one you choose to live.

All else is just unnecessary clutter.

It also keeps you from your Joy.

{Please remember: you DO have a choice.}

Take This Day...

Take this day, and cherish every single moment.

Every.

Single.

Moment.

Say I love you.

Put pride aside and call that person you're angry with.

Open a door for the person behind you.

Let someone cut in front of you.

Smile at the Cranky Pants.

Hug your Critter.

Eat the ice cream.

Have a glass of wine.

Lay in the grass and watch the clouds go by.

Take this day.

And cherish.

Every.

Single.

Moment.

When Death Is A Gift

We all know...that death is a part of life. Nobody likes it. Everybody thinks they understand it. But mostly, we do our best to avoid the subject altogether. We don't like to think about it. Or talk about it. Or face it when it comes time to face it. But, we all know...that death is a part of life.

Now, given that this blog is about Joy, about choosing Joy, one might wonder why in the world I'd be talking about death. Please...bear with me. Although there seems not to be anything joyful about it, there are times when death is welcome. Times when losing someone, so to speak, brings relief. To be sure, there is also sorrow. But when someone you love is in such deep and unyielding pain, suffering every moment of every day, for months on end, sometimes we pray for them to go. Sometimes we know that even though it means not having them on the Planet, we'd rather be without them than watch them suffer. When death comes, in times like this, we'll often feel, not only relief, but joy. Joy for this loved one to have cast aside the burdens of the body and soar. Whether one believes in a "heaven" or not, still there must be some other realm where we live on. Because if we are what scientists claim, if we are "energy", we know, too, that energy never dies. Energy may take different forms. It may be diffused or scattered or moved. But energy does not die. Ever.

With this in mind, no matter what a person's religious or spiritual beliefs, if one has any semblance of intuition, then one would know, somewhere deep in themselves, that death is really not. It is simply a transition. A transcendence. A variation of what we call "life". And knowing this somehow makes the whole death process just a little more bearable. Even when we know that there will be no more touching of hands or hugging of necks or kissing of cheeks, there is no thing that can stop the love that lives on. Because love, like energy, does not "die". Instead, it seems to deepen. To become even more treasured. And, if we're really mindful, death can also urge us to be more loving and appreciative of those who are still here, on this magnificent Planet, for us to touch. And hug. And kiss. Death, in some ways, is as much a gift as Life.

But still...it hurts.

So for today, I pray that those of you who have or are right now dealing with the passing of someone you love dearly, I pray you will remember that even amidst the pain of that loss, there is a gift. Your journey, being without their physical presence, does not need to destroy you. Walk that path, trusting that you will soon reach a peaceful spot on your own chosen path, where you will, once again, feel their presence. You will hear their voice and feel the love even more deeply than, perhaps, you did before they left. When you reach that place, sit yourself down and allow your spirit to luxuriate in the love that never dies.

Then....do your happy dance.

just a few words....

just a few words...and one AWEsome photo, to let you know I'm still here, thinking, loving, caring, evolving. for now...I wish you the most BEAUTIFUL day and night and tomorrow.....

On Any Given Sunday....

...you may change your colors

to suit your needs

you may hold tight your pain

or get your groove on

now

on any given sunday

it is your choice

to feel the joy

or ride the swell of

angst

that you have created

it is always

your

choice

What's Your Mantra?

Do you have a mantra? Is there a word or phrase that you call up when you get in a tight spot? Do you take time to listen to your heart when it's hurting? Or scared? Or confused?

I'm not talking about sitting in the Lotus position and chanting "Om" for hours every day. Not everybody can go there, even when they think they want to. I admire folks who can do that sorta thing. I'm not one of them. I find sitting very still for long periods of time quite excruciating. Also, I don't think it's necessary for every Being to do such things to find their groove. I think it's more about...

Finding what works for you.

For those of you who've been here a while, you already know that my mantra is

Joy is a choice.

I have used this mantra for many years in order to remind myself that I need not stay anywhere that feels like shit. It's a choice. 

Joy

Happiness

Agony

Despair

All of them, choices.

I'm not saying we won't feel those things sometimes. The sad parts are an important piece of the fabric that makes up what we call "Life". You gotta have some Ick so you'll appreciate the Joy even more than you would without it.

That does NOT mean you have to stay mired in it. 

It just means, you take the so-called good with the so-called bad and once you've seen the contrast, you can move on.

Choices.

So I got to thinking about the choices we make and whether or not we have the tools to make the choices that will most benefit us. Like whether or not to buy that bunch of tulips that make you so happy even though you've only got $23 to your name. Or whether or not to take that puppy home when you're already stretched so tight you don't know how you're going to put gas in your car. Or accepting an invitation from someone you barely know. Or getting rid of all those clothes you haven't worn in years. 

These are minuscule, you might think. But maybe not so much. Maybe it is precisely these kinds of choices that make our lives joyful .... or NOT. Maybe it is the little things that matter most. Maybe, just maybe, if we have some kind of mantra to carry around with us, we will stop for those three seconds and think about how whatever choice we're faced with makes us feel.

When I wrote Whispers, I didn't realize just how much I relied on my Intuition. I wrote the book as an exercise for my Self. A way to review the magick of my Life so I could remember just how blessed I really am. By the time I was finished, I saw that even the horror that I was facing at that time could not diminish the truly marvelous path I had taken. 

In short, it was the beginning of a brandy new way for me to live.

Hence, the mantra.

Joy is a choice.

Yes. And I do believe that if you don't have one (a mantra, that is), it might behoove you to find one that suits. It doesn't have to be "holy". It doesn't have to be "deep". It could be as simple as TRUST or STOP or YES. But whatever it is, it would be there to remind you that your life is your own; the choices you make are yours. Nobody lives in your skin. And nobody gets to tell you what you "should" or "shouldn't" do, or be, or say. 

Mantras are cool like that.

So....

What's your mantra?

Finding Grace

Sometimes it'll sneak up on you like one of those stealthy Ninjas you see in the movies. Only it isn't a movie. It's your heart. And when it jumps out from the shadows and whacks you over the head, it'll make you wonder how you'd gotten away until now.

I'm talking about Grief.

{Aside: Now, before you get all twisted up, I do know this Blog is about choosing Joy. So, if you'll stay with me here, we'll wind our way there. Don't we always?}

So then...

Say you're toodling along, doing what you do, enjoying your moments with deep appreciation. You've even managed to hang a few photos back on the walls, feeling stronger about the loss of your loved one. A bit of time has passed. You feel you've moved on with as much Grace as can be expected. You might even feel joy on occasion, when thinking about Loved One. Memories bring smiles instead of tears. There are moments when you laugh out loud ....

{Another aside: why do we say "laugh out loud"? Isn't laughter always out loud?}

...when you laugh just thinking about a particular moment you shared. Things are grooving along nicely. Then one day, whilst reading some lovely thing or other, that Ninja jumps out of the shadows and whacks you with his sword. You feel the pain as freshly as if the loss was yesterday. You feel your heart tighten. Your mouth goes dry. The tears start raining down your face uncontrollably. You are one hot mess. Just like that.

It surprises you. You weren't expecting such an upheaval. Not now. Not after all this time. How can it be? How can you be humming along so easily and then have all that rise up so large. Worse, it feels even bigger than you remembered it. Monumental Grief.

Perhaps it will help if you realize that Grief is like that. Grief does not care about time. Or distance. Or your ability to move on. Grief has its own agenda and you cannot sway cajole or trick it into submission. Grief comes as a guide to your Grace. 

If you've ever experienced a moment of true Grace, you know that when it washes over you it really does feel as if the Hand of God (or whatever you like to call It) has lifted you up into Its loving arms and wrapped you in that vast expanse of Love. You feel as if you'd never really been alive til that moment. You feel...More Than Love. 

But how can we know this feeling if we do not experience its opposites. I use the plural there because Grief is not the only "opposite". In any case, if we have not felt some semblance of Pain, how would we know the absolute Joy of Grace? 

We could not. We are Humans being human. We are subject to all manner of folly. Grief is among them. And were we not so deeply in Love with those Beings whose passing rips our hearts apart, we would not know the Joy of their presence before they leave us. That is the purpose of Grief. To remind us that we have boundless capacity for Love.

And Good.

And Grace.

And so....I wish for you the courage to bear your Grief....until you get to the Grace that will find Its way to you. Always.

{See? I told you we'd come back 'round.}

Hidden Gifts ~

It's such a surprise to realize just how much my Life has changed since we moved to our splendid new home. I am actually participating in my Life. Moving about, walking thrice daily, tending to the gardens. Watching the corn and tomatoes and blackberries grow, I realize too just how much more I am being nourished. The sounds and sights and smells of this place all fill me up, as much as the food that graces my plate, fresh from the garden. It is as if I have begun anew. And so I have.

Pavo, the spectacular peacock that lives on the property, has become accustomed to us now. Every morning he comes down from his perch high atop the tree outside my door, and does his funny little twirly dance; 'round and 'round he spins, shaking his feathers and singing his song. He has even stopped charging Bruzer, who seems completely unfazed by Pavo's antics. Such a magical exchange to watch. It is as if they have both decided that there is no reason whatsoever for any sort of discord. Let's just all BE, shall we?

And then there are the other creatures. The llamas and hawks and coyotes, the rabbits and quail and the puppies next door. So many creatures with so many gifts. Yes, even the coyotes have value in my world. Because if not for coyotes, there would be no crop. The coyotes keep the rabbit population in check. Of course, they also wreak havoc on cats and small dogs. But you know, they were here first. We have taken over so much of their space. What other choice do they have? But I digress.....

It would be ridiculous to stay indoors with all this going on outside. Corn is growing alongside tomatoes and squash. Roses and berries and grapes galore. Wind chimes in every direction, all with their own distinct music. Waterfalls and brilliant orioles, palm fronds rustling and swaying in the breeze that seems ever-present, up here on this mountain. How, then, could I sit indoors? Why would I forgo this magic?

With all of it comes yet another gift. That of a peace I have never known before. A kind of serenity that I'd only ever read about. A sweet and gentle calm; all so new to me. All so very welcome. I have found a place to call Home, surrounded by Beings who call me friend. I am, for the first time in decades, Home again.

Up and down, round and round...

When all else fails, watch the puppy. Watch him as he races around the yard like a crazy person, dashing up and down the hills, stopping only long enough to throw himself on the grass to roll over and over and over again. Then, he gets up and takes off like somebody lit a firecracker under his butt. Up and down, round and round, a party all by himself.

If that doesn't cure ya, nothing will.

P.S. In the words of the Great Bruzer: LIGHTEN UP, MAMA!

Ain't that the truth?

Go to sleep with it...wake up with it.

It's a strange and mysterious thing. That whatever we go to sleep with is precisely what we wake up with. I'm not talking about the man (or woman) beside you. I'm talking about those thoughts that are flyin' around in your head as you fall asleep. No matter how deeply you sleep or how many vivid dreams you may have, you're still going to wake up with whatever you were thinking about before you went off to LaLaLand.

There are some who believe that when we sleep we return to the Source from whence we came. Others believe slumber is nothing more than an unconscious state. And still others believe that sleeping is as close to death as we get while we're still here.

As far as I can tell, the jury is still out.

I like the "return to Source" one. Makes me happy to think about being able to "cross over" and come back again. Cool stuff. But then, consider the source (by that I mean the person who's writing this). I also believe in Santa Claus and magick. So it's not a stretch for me to grab hold of the crossing over thang. It's just fun to think about. And you know me...I'm all about the fun.

So then....let's say you lie down in bed and try to get your brain to stop whirring. You may have some little tricks you use to reach those ends. But still...it just keeps a-whirrin' and a-buzzin'; those pesky words you heard from a crabby neighbor or that spat you had with your bonehead roommate or the nasty confrontation you had with your boss. The words and the feelings they evoke just won't go away. Like gnats flyin' up your nose. ICK.

Finally, without a hint as to how or why, you fall asleep. And you dream. And dream. And dream.

And then you wake up....only to find those same thoughts right there at the forefront of your mind.

DANG IT!

OR....

You put on some soft music. And you slow down your breathing. And you just focus on that breath...in and out, in and out, in and out. You don't even have to try to stop your brain because you're so focused on the breathing and the lovely music and the coziness of your bed and that wonderful pillow you just bought that is absolutely perfect. There you are, lying in bed, with nary a thought about anything. And then ....ZZZZZZZ. Deep, restful slumber. When you wake up, you're refreshed and rested and happy to be alive. You hear the birds singing and the roosters cock-a-doodling (if you happen to be so lucky to have roosters nearby) and the trees whispering in the soft, morning wind. Your dog comes in with tail a-waggin', happy that you're awake. He jumps up on the bed and you snuggle for a little while, with a grin as big as a Cheshire cat. Your body is tingling. Your heart is full. Your new day has begun.

See the difference here?

on this, the eve of a new year....

It's hard to believe another year has been spent. But here we are...on this last day of 2010. I suppose there are many who take time to look 'back' and re-live what they've done (or not done!) over the past 12 months. Many sit with pen in hand, 'resolving' to make changes. Still others wonder, as I am, where the heck the year went! In all, I'd say it is a time for reflection and eagerness. Another trip 'round the sun that we might grow more of who we really are.

Every year, on this day, I break out my new calendar and mark the dates that are important to me. Birthdays, anniversaries, passings, break-throughs; any date that holds significance for me that I wish to continue to remember. While I mark those dates on my new calendar, I take my time and let the memories roll. I do not sit in sadness; rather, I remember with fondness and great love all the many blessings that I have lived over the past 12 months. It is not a rueful time; it is a joyous time. So much to be grateful for. So much to look forward to. So much love!

And so, on this, my last post of 2010, I bid you all a final suggestion:

Be grateful. Hold the love in your heart and let it wash through you. Look not at the sorrows you may have lived, but instead look at how well you have grown. Look at how much more you are now. Feel that gratitude deep in your bones. And, most of all, remember that with each new day we have the opportunity to find even more....more love, more joy, more abundance, more friendship, more of ourselves.

Be eager about your next trip 'round the sun! Be ever-hopeful for those things that you most desire to come to you.. They will. All you must do is ALLOW THEM TO COME!

It is with great fondness and deepest appreciation that I close this chapter of my life. And YOU have everything to do with that ever-growing gratitude!

I wish you all that you dream of. I wish you great love and happy moments. I wish you exquisite health and loads of fun. I wish you JOY!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

there is no such thing...

There is no such thing as too much gratitude. Did ya know that? Did ya know that the more grateful you are for what you have, the more you will have to be grateful for? Did ya know that when you're in a funk, the fastest way out of it is to look around and find something, anything...to be grateful for?

If you woke up this morning, you have something to celebrate. 

If you have food to eat and clothes to keep you warm, 

you have something to celebrate.

If you are loved, by even just one person, 

you have something to celebrate.

If you've ever heard a child laugh or had a puppy lick your face, 

you have something to celebrate.

If you've ever seen a flower in bloom

 or smelled it's lovely fragrance, 

you have something to celebrate.

There are millions of things to be grateful for, if you will 

just take a moment to look.

I know.

I, too, have had my "moments" when my world seemed so dismal.

Yet, I made my way through and found reasons to be grateful.

It's a terrific little "tool".

It may take a little practice at first.

But if you will just take one second to STOP and remind yourself that you are blessed, 

you are well, you are loved...then you will find the secret to living Joy

 each and every day.

It's all about your choices.

I've said it a million times and I'll say it again....

Joy is a CHOICE.

And gratitude is what gets ya there the fastest.

HONEST!

little shifts

HOLY ANGEL CAKE! It's been more than a week, unbeknownst to me...until this morning when a friend asked "are you okay????". He mentioned that I hadn't posted anything in 'a while' and was worried that something was 'wrong'. Made my heart swell, and then...a giggle.

Truth be told, (of course. don't I always?), I've been on an odd little trip lately. Not 'bad' nor 'good'...just a trip. Taking it all in and letting things just BE for a change. Not the easiest thing to do sometimes, but oh-so-necessary. So, having said that, perhaps a bit of sharing is in order?

Rather than doing the whole "me. me. me." thang, I'm going to pose a few puzzlers that I've been mulling over, and see what kind of feedback ya'll have to offer. It's always delightful to get feedback, especially given that those of you who read this blog have always been so forthright and kind. Gives a girl some ease knowing there isn't going to be any ugliness comin' back at her, ya know?

So then...

I've known for some time that the majority of ailments that befall us (puny humans. giggle) are rooted in emotional seeds. Stress is the number one cause of most maladies, including the 'big ones' like heart dis-ease and cancer, neurosis (duh!) and even sociopathic disturbances. I could give you tons of statistics on this subject, but let's not go there. Boring and irrelevant. The point is, I've known this and still have had a bit of a struggle balancing what needs to be balanced. But what if...

What if the whole enchilada isn't so much about the knowing, but about the feeling? What if it's about just allowing things to be what they are without trying to 'work your way through' it? What if, instead of praying or meditating or chanting or whatever, we were to just sit somewhere and be with whatever it is that's causing us pain? Physical, emotional or mental. Doesn't matter. Rather than trying to figure it out or get it out, we were to just sit with it and BE. What if?

Also, what if we were to accept, fully and completely, that who we are and how we are is absolutely perfect? Rather than saying to ourselves, "Gee. I think too much. Maybe I outta get out of my head and into my soul. Maybe I'm just not capable of ....", rather than going there, what if we were to accept and be happy about who we are. What if we were to observe instead of immerse? What if we were to wrap our arms around the very things that we thought were the cause of our pain? What then?

I hear people saying "People don't change. They are who they are and no amount of therapy is going to change that core person." And whenever I hear this I feel myself immediately bristle. I want to shout at them, "WRONG! PEOPLE CAN CHANGE!" But lately I've made the choice to NOT shout or argue or convince because I've found that it doesn't help; not them nor myself. It's that whole "pushing against" thing. What's the point? It doesn't really matter what anyone else thinks. What matters is what "me" thinks. In the course of this new approach I've come to see that there is much to be gained from not pushing back. In my experience, this is an enormous shift. But then, this is coming from someone who has made it her life's mission (previously!) to school people. HA! You know that expression: "You can lead a horse to water..."? Well, that is precisely the picture that comes into my head when I think about pushing back. Ya can't make 'em drink, Missy!

I believe we are all very much creatures of habit. We get into our little routines, not just with our daily activities, but also with our thought patterns and responses to the world. NO. Not 'responses'. REACTIONS. We are innately wired to react. Again, there is a scientific explanation for all that, but I shan't go there either. It begins when we're in the womb. And it continues until we have our little epiphany...and then the changes can begin. Rather than reacting, we can choose to respond instead. Yes. There is a difference. Look at the words:

RE-act: to act or perform again.

When we react, we are literally RE-acting whatever comes at us. If someone is being a jerk and we react, then we're a jerk back. When someone pushes a button, we push one of theirs. RE-ACT.

Not such a good feeling.

Then there's response. Response, by definition, is: to reply or answer in words. Hmmmmm. Different? Me thinks so. One implies action, the other implies thought. From my perspective, there's a time lag...in which one can control what comes next rather than just mindlessly engaging in what might be a less-than experience. Kinda like the difference between having somebody toss a baseball at you when you're NOT wearing a mitt, and having that same person toss it when you're standing ready. In the former scenario, the reaction would be to duck so as not to get hit. The latter would be to catch the ball. See the difference?

Okay...so there are a host of ways that we all choose to be in the world. Some folks are perfectly okay with going through the motions, always on the defense, waiting for that ball to come flyin' outta nowhere. Other folks choose to trust that if the ball comes flyin' they're going to see it long before it hits them. The key here? Trust.

Somehow everything always lands on trust. Trusting Self. Trusting Source. Trusting the Universe. Trust is where I always land...and navigating the often murky waters in between seems to be the 'pushing against' part. So what if...rather than tug on the oars of this boat I'm sailing, muscling my way upstream, I could let go of those oars and just let the stream carry me?

Whaddya think?