Category: Blogs

Receptacles

Note to Self:

So, I’m unsurprised to be up & writing at 2 a.m.

I spent a lot of money today. The notch in my credit card required me to blow on it so it won’t melt my wallet down.

Worth every penny! I will seek to drop all anxiety around my expenditures. Living in a stretched zone of money has consumed my energy far too long in my life. I’m simply not ready for it to take me over again.

For as much as I have had abundance, I presume upon its continuance. I am proof to Youniverse – perhaps the exception proving the rule…which reverses the rule at once.

I’ve pulled off similar stunts successfully. No stopping now,

For all my concern about being in flow, I am So. It isn’t me running dry, it is a country at large making huge suction sounds. May these be only the swamp running dry! If one cannot see just how manipulated we have been over the short generations of today, one must be wearing a patch over one eye & holding a hand up over the other.

In a generous society such as ours, where people give freely until their fear locks that flow, sadness strolls about finding hearts to roost within. This is, most emphatically, not my fate. I sit assured I am beloved by Source, spinning words like suns spin planets. Should I doubt abundance, I simply look at the varietyof colors found in the hairs on my chin.

I am in this existence, in a time of potential unmatched other than by the original primordial soup (the good swamp) from which all life sprang.

My generation has seen tech spring from tiny transistor radios & watches that miraculously show time, date, & how fast our hearts beat…to driverless cars & the approaching, powerful resource of Replicators. How can I deny abundance?

In the moment, I must redefine it for myself by asserting it is what I have acquired. I am not collecting dollar bills in second beggar position on Date Street by the stores. I’m definitely not starving in a time when so many actually are.

I may wriggle & squirm like a kid enforced in school, but it is always under the hand of knowing better to sit still, said Hand resting upon my crown to direct me to see only faith. I set guards of love & bumpers of laughter at the insanity of starving in a world where apple trees grow hundreds in a season & rain down to be gathered by squirrels.

It is that I have joined an army stocked with weapons of Mass Creation, shooting out enjoyment, creativity, delight, wealth & blessing.

Then I rise in the wee hours to detail the love in my life, the easy joys of polishing another’s hand-crafted vase. I have a chair in which to park my days, several pens to perform word surgeries, many ideas to perfect in description. I have a bed & a means to stay clean in body, I eat well, I stay strong in the physical, re-move myself from toxic situations & rediscover the beauty of life in the desert. I help me. I help others accomplish their goals. I learn, but teach just a bit more than that. I offer myself as a translator of skills to make the lives of others more productive, more accomplishing.

I Am that I Am, but I am that others are, as well.

From the Other Side:

We are all so excited for you & we wake  you to 2 a.m. alleluia ’cause 2 a.m. is a great time to grab your full attention, Little Sister, Big Master! We just had to say how much we love you & where & how you “do” your living. When one well runs dry, whether it’s the oligarchs or the faithless who have defiled it, we help you in inclination & desire to simply move to the next watering hole.

We, too, giggle that you think you are lost at sea in the driest of deserts, or cold in the land where even the water bubbles in fantastical heat just below the surface crust.

We laugh as you puzzle payments – not in cruelty that you are nervy about where it will manifest from, but in a head-shake at your silliness to doubt!

We guffaw with you as you lift your white wings to check the bottom-most feathers are still there.

We flock with you like starlings at dawn & sunset, in a dance of beauty, raucous soundings & waves across the sky. We wheel & clip & sing in your joy of independence & unfettered movement.

We will never let you fall, for we love you beyond gravity’s attempts to hold you down, far past what you think may be your “if not sold by” date, way past any human measure!

Now get this move on, girl. We’re out of the heavy lifting part, leaving that to you. But we’ve got the rest & so much more!

Love,

Us

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Passages

My roommate’s best friend stopped by today to pick up a decrepit rug which has lined the concrete carport for years. In fact, I’ve been somewhat amused to park my Volt on a rug for the past few months of living here. Her husband sat in the truck while we hefted the rolled-up rug into its bed. No longer shy in my crone years, I wondered aloud if he could help, but she said he’d injured his arm when their donkey decided to go left as he went right. This is the same donkey which brays loudly & thoroughly from his pen on the far corner of town. Many mornings, I hear this particular snorting, hoarse ‘call of the wild’ as I’m waking up. Fortunately, my timing seems to be opening my eyes just before the alarm. This donkey, however, was not the one who sang along with the Easter Service in April. That one was a different donkey who lives on the opposite side.

Just about every morning when I wake, after the donkey-calls, I hear someone banging their trashcans from atop the hill – which means the sound carries down & across our town-in-a-valley. Since the few of us who have trash pickup own a black plastic wheelie-bin, I wondered who had metal cans & why they’d bang them every single day at 5:30 a.m. I finally figured out it’s the horse that lives with the singing donkey beating his own drum, sending out a tattoo about breakfast now, please.

On the days I walk east, often there are two black dogs who clamber over the broken stone fence to rush me, snarling & barking, hackles raised. So much for the leash law – but we have no police here anyway to enforce it. I’m not an animal abuser, but I do sometimes wonder how much a Taser would cost, & if I could secrete it in my clown clothes worn for workout. Best not go there, tho, eh?

Living mostly off the grid does require tolerance for the unexpected outdoors. Like the cow sleeping on the road under the mailbox as her calf (or the back half of it) blocks the westbound lane. Or the brown horse making her way sidewise down a steep hill to come over for a scratch. Or the determined tarantulas crossing the street just in front of me, or the rattler in front of the post office steps after rain.

I love to walk in the morning. In Missoula, where I stayed at The Wilma for a short time, we had an old fella who’d stand at one end of Main Street to holler “HEY!” from about 5:45 to 6:15 every morning rain or shine. Amazing how sound carries at that hour. Perhaps this was his Sun Salutation.

Once I read about a man who put up a sign along the edge of his farm telling people that this was a farm, that animals lived here & his animals did what animals do, unashamedly, in “flagrante delicto” & not to be surprised at their activities, their smells, their unabashed enthusiasm for physical life in all its forms & functions.

(Which reminds me about the time I took my girl scout troop to the zoo where a monkey was delightedly pleasuring himself in his cage…we should have gone to the Snake House, I guess.)

Today I met a man standing in the field next to our B&B, with a coffee cup in one hand & a cig in the other, who smiled & said he was standing out there at dawn as he was trying to quit smoking.

So I guess this blog doesn’t really have a specific point, moral or story. I’m just telling you about my favorite time of day & some of its delightful surprises. I mean, any morning that includes all this deserves to be written about. Why not here?

I’m always talking about how wonderful it is to be able to paint, but just give me a thousand words & I’m happy.

 

 

 

 

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Miracle Thinking – A Unity Talk

MIRACLE THINKING

When I am asked what I would like to talk about, often the words come from my mouth before I can plan them. When I asked if I could speak on 12/6, the question returned: “What will you talk about?” I immediately typed “Miracle Thinking.” Then I looked at my computer, and said to myself, “miracle thinking?”

But, ya know, I’ve been doing this for a while now. Of course I wasn’t always like this. Somewhere the switch flipped from negative to positive & it ain’t never going back. I know that now. Some years ago you wouldn’t have convinced me of any reality about positive thinking even with a hypnotist in the room waving a watch, saying “you are getting sleepy.”

What’s a miracle? The Spanish word for sight is “mira”, so could a miracle simply be a different way of seeing things? I think it must be. I know once I move out from the surprise, kind of back up with the camera, a really wide angle emerges. When I can get the panoramic view, I have it made. The water changes to wine with a snap! And with all my experience, I’m still surprised to drink from the glass.

Sometimes miracles happen even when I’m clearly not in a state to anticipate them. When I graduated massage school in 1996, I was living with a woman named Nancy. I came later to call Nancy my roommate from hell & she kindly reciprocated by proving that out to me in no uncertain terms. Of course, Nancy was one of my best teachers.

Nancy knew a woman named Ruth. Ruth lived in Montana & wished to open a community for women healers. I had spent five months living in an intentional community in upstate New York & I loved the idea! And I felt I was a healer, hey, I just graduated massage school, yea?

Nancy & I shared a lot of fear & upset on that trip from Albuquerque to Montana. I had a vehicle; she didn’t. She sprained her ankle two days before we were to leave, I could climb on top of the car to pack stuff. She was getting unemployment while I had no visible means of support, having just graduated from being a starving student, to being a starving graduate. So after living together for six weeks in a room in Missoula, Montana, I finally got a job. In my LIFE, it’d never taken me six weeks to get a job. I knew Nancy was running really low on any desire to have me around and our disagreements were escalating. That second day I came home from work, which was third shift waitress at a diner, she said she wanted me packed, out, and gone by noon that day.

I listen to my Divine Planners & even then, I had had an inkling that things were going poorly enough that this might happen. Did I bring on an eviction with thinking those thoughts? Maybe. But my antennae were out & I had investigated renting a room. I just needed more money than I had in hand at that moment. Later, getting thrown out of our little apartment would become the best thing in the world for me, but in the thin moment of her telling me to be gone by 12 & slamming the door to go visit Ruth while I packed, I considered my options. I had $35 that I had made in tips over the two nights I’d worked. I’d given Nancy $5 toward what I owed her – totally a token payment, but I was six weeks without any cash & feeling pretty needy.

When I looked into renting that room, I found out I needed $130 to move in. So, I had $30. Now, one week earlier, before I’d scored my waitress gig, I’d written to a friend in Jersey to ask if he could spare $50 to help me buy gas so I could look for a job.

I was muttering to myself while I packed; I figured I at least had enough on hand to find a campground to stay in. After about ten minutes of mushing my stuff into big gray tubs, there was a loud knocking on the door. I was already aggravated, & got even angrier as I yanked it open, figuring Nancy’d forgotten her key, wanted me out on this abbreviated timeline & now was making me stop packing to let her in. I was astonished to find the FedEx guy outside who handed me a cardboard envelope & that signature device they use. I scribbled my name & ripped open the tab of the envelope. There was a $100 bill inside from my friend; no note, no words, just a Ben Franklin from someone I had not been the kindest to when I last saw him. So how much money did I have? How much money did I need? And I love telling this story because each time I do, I am beautifully assured that the universe loves me enough to rescue me from myself. And up until that moment in time, becoming homeless was my biggest fear in life.

Miracle thinking gets easier each time a miracle happens. I stopped calling it “universe” & started calling it “youniverse” right then.

Randy Peyser has written a great little book called “The Power Of Miracle Thinking.” It’s a book of stories, anecdotes & ideas about how to get over yourself by reaching out for the best that is out there every time. I’m happy to say that just about everything in here is something I’ve practiced at some point. I have had miracles greet me at every turn & I make so many wrong turns my GPS stutters its directions.

Randy’s first notation is choose to be #1. The Japanese call it “Ichiban.” Number one. Are you number one in your own mind? And if you’re not, I hope you feel really guilty whenever someone says, “Well, you have to put the oxygen mask on yourself first.” Because that is so TRUE! If you are not coming from a position of personal power that is rooted in personal worth your GPS probably isn’t going to work well at all.

From this internal strength & worth, from this place of belonging in the youniverse, you can ask for anything. If it’s right for you & if the timing is right for you, and if you have asked for it from a deeply felt understanding that it IS God’s good pleasure to give you the Kingdom, it’s yours. Where is that worth & worthiness in you? If you had to understand it in the form of a standardized measurement, would you be living at 100%? Yes? No? What percentage are you living at? If you’re at 50%, how do you feel when you get half a miracle? Not me, baby. Recently I was at a dinner & when the hosts said they were having a raffle based on our ticket numbers, my first reaction was a mild, “wonder what I won.” My number was the first called & I won two tickets to ClearSpace Theatre.

Which leads to another of Randy’s premises: youniverse never says “yes…but” We say yes but all the time. We say, “Oh, sure I’d like to win the lottery, but that’ll never happen to me.” Or “I’d love to meet a terrific person in my life, but I don’t want my heart to get broken again.” 50% anyone?

You can’t find a miracle sitting in your easy chair, eating Doritos, watching TV & wishing for something different. Sorry, but you need to get off your duff & get out there & happen to life like you’ve wanted life to happen to you. You’ve gotta find the miracle you want by offering yourself up to it. And you have to allow the miracle. How many times has someone offered you something terrific & you’ve said, “oh, no, I couldn’t accept that!” I can’t tell you the number of times someone’s told me they’re hurting & could really use a massage so I say, “sure, come see me.” And I never hear from them. Of course the first reaction is money; but even when I say, just come see me, no charge! No call. It’s not an insult to be offered a gift. It’s often a need in the giver to even offer it out. I have had to retrain myself to simply say, “Why Thank You So Much!” when I am offered a gift in this way.

I am still learning to be a good receiver & that being in receivership doesn’t mean I’m bankrupt at all. Need some practice? There’s an exercise offered in the Abraham writings by Esther Hicks where Abraham recommends writing fake checks. He says to get your abundance muscles going, work them out by using an old checkbook to write yourself a check for some wonderful amount, say, a million dollars. Then focus your attention on what you would do with a million dollars. Next day, write a check for two million. What’ll you do with that? Make a list! I got up to about 16 million before I simply got tired of giving away money. By then, I had the idea well-fixed that I wouldn’t be keeping much of it, so I figured I was copacetic with the idea. Do this! It will awaken your abundance in a real way that’s also a feel-good, fun exercise! There’s a story told that one night in 1990 when Jim Carrey was a struggling young comic trying to make his way in Los Angeles, he drove his old, beat-up Toyota to the top of a hill. While sitting there, broke, looking down over the city, and dreaming of his future, he wrote himself a check for $10 million, put in the notation line ‘for acting services rendered,’ and dated it for Thanksgiving 1995. He stuck that check in his wallet – and the rest, as they say, is history.

By 1995, Jim had seen the tremendous success of Ace Ventura, Pet Detective, The Mask and my personal favorite, Liar, Liar. His per film fee at that point had escalated to $20 million.

Visualize what you want. Sit still & feel how it feels to have what you want. World Peace? High-heeled sneakers? New golf clubs? How does it feel to be pulling those puppies around the golf course right now? Empower the feeling to bring it alive. Love the idea into being!

Always think in terms of this or something better. When I found the apartment I’m living in, the landlord said he had a few more people to interview before offering it, but he’d be in touch. Well, I felt pretty strongly in my gut it was mine – it’s the ideal size, it had absolutely everything on my list but one thing – remember the list, people? And when I make a list, I include everything on it. I even use a steno pad so I can have two columns. Still, when he said he had to talk to others, all my doubts rose up – did I make enough money? Was I ever going to get my own place? Apartments aren’t easy to come by near the shore, they’re either outrageously priced for a single person or simply not available. As I drove away from this gorgeous place what came into my head was the phrase: “this, or something better.” And I felt great again. I didn’t know what could be better than having an apartment over Derrickson Creek with everything I wanted, but I knew that it would have to be really spectacular. And I was comforted by that thought: Wow! What could be better? All right!

Another story: when I realized I wanted to travel cross-country, I wished for a van. I made a list of everything the van would have. The last requirement was that it be blue b/c I’ve always wanted a blue car. I had a small inheritance from my Mom to use. I focused on the van, I prayed, I visualized myself driving it, sitting up there over the road… no van. Weeks passed & the summer was ending & I had to get on the road soon and…no van. So I reviewed the list. I erased the “blue van” from it. Within a week I had a maroon van & the prior owner was a short man, so I didn’t even have to adjust the driver’s seat.

If you are stuck with a picture of something you don’t want, or if you are experiencing a health challenge, don’t hesitate to ask the Big Eraser to come in. My sister experienced this. When a loved one she knew sustained terrible, disfiguring burns, she went to see him in hospital. He passed away from his injuries, but Teri was left with an awful image of someone she dearly loved. One day when she just couldn’t seem to get this picture out of her head & was again choking up about it, a huge pencil came into her mind, turned itself over & rubbed out the image top to bottom. She never experienced saw her dear one that way again & remembers this person as the beautiful spirit he was. Youniverse will take care of you!

Bring Joy into your alignment with life. Youniverse likes a good target; make it easy to find you. “Hey, over here, good things! Yeah, me! I’m the one living rightly, I’m the happy person who found the pony in the room full of manure…c’mon down, I’m SO ready to be gifted by your presence.”

The best part is youniverse always has a bigger plan for you than you have for yourself. It isn’t about having the right answer so much as it’s about asking the Right Question. Lighten up & just do it: live your joy in life, don’t dip your happiness into the misery of another – that’s like getting the candle burning & dropping it into the sea.

If all this sounds like the impossible dream, stay awake.

So, take a deep breath & listen with both ears as I finish the story I started at the beginning of this talk. Here’s how one miracle fuels another. In the room of the house I stayed in after I left Nancy, there were many things Youniverse gave to me. A calendar of Ansel Adams photos – breathtaking. Books & cassettes which had been abandoned. Most intriguing to me was a pair of really good sneakers, but I’m a size 8 & these were 9’s. I kept them anyway, thinking maybe I could just wear two pairs of socks. These were expensive sneakers, well made, very sturdy. But after I’d been at the house for a few weeks, one day the phone rang & it was my dear friend, Ed & his good friend, Jerry. Ed asked me how much longer I was going to stay in Montana. I told him I had no plans to return – but what I didn’t mention was that it was only ‘cause I was mortally embarrassed to have made such a mess by moving there. Here I was waitressing the midnight shift, barely getting to do any massage. I couldn’t face going back to ABQ to tell my friends how much I had disappointed myself by leaving there. But when Jerry said “Ed, tell her WHY you called” and Ed said, “Carol, I have cancer. I want you to come back to work on me.” I simply said, “Ed, I’ll be there in two weeks.” And I started packing once again. I had lots to think about on those 1,100 miles. And I got to travel back through some of the most beautiful country these eyes will ever see, down through Utah’s Moab Valley, visiting Canyonlands & Arches National Park.

The night after I’d returned, I drove over to La Montanita for some health foods for the larder. A woman was sitting barefoot in the parking lot, begging everyone to give her shoes. “They took my shoes,” she said to me as I walked by. “What size?” I asked. “Size 9,” she replied. “Just a sec,” I said. And walked back to the van to get those sneakers.

I like to think Youniverse offered me the opportunity to be her miracle.

Think love, think empowerment & most of all, think MIRACLES!

Thank you.

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Not Too Wordy – Just Some Ideas

I’ve lived most of my life between my ears. And much of that life has been lived between the covers of a book. As a child, I rode The Black Stallion with Walter Farley’s Alex for years. I hunted clues with Nancy Drew and the Bobbsey Twins. In the past couple of decades, I’ve befriended Jack Reacher, Bob Lee Swagger, Kinsey Milhone, Claire Randall, Diana Bishop, Sheriff Longmire and so many others. I read so much, I finally wrote my own book to contribute to the effort. Riding The Light was published in 2013 & Amazon still seems to be carrying it.

The thing about being an author is people read a whole lot faster than authors write! Storytelling resides in an altered state where nothing else plays in. It takes hours of focus & maintaining a “voice.” So if the story isn’t telling itself, there does not seem to me to be a way to coax it out. Force is definitely out of the question.

Many stories have begun telling themselves to me, but wandered off somewhere after a few pages. Once I got to eight chapters of a tale before the characters abruptly dispersed to other sections of the universe. I set out treats, played soft music & kept pens with paper handy all over the house…to no avail.

Creativity rises from a fountainhead which is subject to inexplicably low tides. I can scuff along the beach & pick up the tracks of where it has been, but it’s difficult to call it in on the ebbtide.

So when life gets to me, or so-called friends get at me, or dull routine buries me in the sand, I reach for pen/paper & get busy. It seems I can live life one-handed if I need to. Words are the one true truth to love for me…so glad you’re enjoying these alongside!

Loveya.

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Local Roads

 

I feel like a solid rock sometimes, the indissoluble solid, mid-creek. Every once in a while, karma … or grace … approaches with a large lever & sets me into motion.  “The Lever” frequently is preceded by the sound of metal dragging across rocky ground: It foretells change.

I let this Lever upend me to where I live now. I moved from the ocean to live in the elbow of Percha Creek. In the running stream of consciousness that is my life, I taste everyone else’s. As they taste me & mine…it’s something Biblical (at least for me.) So, as it is with water, I am everywhere, as all of us are.

Books can be a Lever, as can movies & other creative works. For me, it’s been serial walkabout which has most changed my life. When the wind spoke in one ear only, I knew it was the way to turn when time came to leave.

Right now, I hear birdcalls, water running over rocks too big to put in my pockets, I hear the metal stanchions of the bridge quietly flexing.

With nothing but these in my awareness, I now also hear faint chimes of bells & bamboo, footsteps crossing behind me & a dog panting. These are bleed-throughs from a parallel time-stream, the “when” that these happened not mine to directly perceive. Yet they swell my awareness. So much is possible over magical running water.

Straight ahead of me rises a wall of sheared & shattered rock, sliced by centuries, a southwestern sculpture garden in the vertical.

To believe this now-miniature creek – Percha Creek – wore through this eternity of rock jumble is farcical, fantastical! Yet, since the glaciers left long ago, since the ocean formed & filled & fled, this creek has had full charge of wearing out the walls I look at, wearing them smooth & carving these edges. If there is a song from rock, there is only a chant in sharp whispers here.

Vegetation is sparse & spiky, clinging to a dust of soil & worn-down pebbles with scrabbling roots. Along the ridgeline, the yucca plants display their seed-stalks, like so many feathers in a headdress. The mesquite provides some variation to already roughened texture.

As I sit, balanced on a tiny chair & leaning one leg against the fence, lap desk astride, the sun beats down on me. The sun is the reason I am out here, as well as some sweet isolation & nature quality time. September offered itself on the breeze in last night’s windows. I want to be brown again for my birthday, coming soon.

Elsewhere & everywhere, the world wears itself into existential frenzy. Friend’s ships sail in different directions, one to sea & one to land. But here & now, I am aware of only the love that created this earth & this water to bring them to this harmonious co-existence. The shapes all interact & indwell with each other far from the tiny world of my perceptions. I am not of centuries; I am now. There is only this moment.

I’m ready.

 

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Breathe Peace Into It

Whatever happens today, breathe peace into it. When an event takes you out of body, breathe yourself back in. Put your feet back onto the ground which welcomes them with love. Be an Earthling for a day, admire the air for being available. Regard with attention, the life around you: avian, amphibian, ambient.

Let sovereign morning order your day. Just as the sun rises steadily into a sky ready to embrace it, let your day embrace you, offer you food, lay sustenance over you with abundance on top.

Bring forth what is best inside you – even if the effort seems false or lacking, or even a pretense.

For me, it is the habit of excellence I wish to acquire, and sometimes I need to start low while aiming high. I’d like to think it’s just a matter of skill & “beginnery” but it has been more. I haven’t been interested enough yet. I have professed interest & claimed interest & pretended it. Now is a time to practice it.

I have been alive a long time to just be finding out that I am so. I was a human being in many other life iterations just in this spacious lifetime. I was a student, a secretary, a mom, a wife, a food worker, a massage therapist. All seemed mutually exclusive, yet all were me.

Only occasionally did I choose time for self-care. Indeed, it is in my latter years that I’ve perceived self-care as a good idea. Now & here do I actually see in active tense; I observe with the intent of interaction. I admire, I enjoy, I watch, I smile & laugh about the activity that goes on in background to sustain me. I am humbled by the arrangement of the universe around my needs & my perceptions of both of these.

If I slip down a detour that looks promising & feels right for a moment, I still need to examine it for what I want to express with my life. If it does not meet this standard, I need to abandon exploration. I’m required to abandon the limiting thought for the next, better thought. In this way, I breathe my peace into it.

You get what you give. Make your habit giving & giving back. It doesn’t have to come with balloons, wine & roses or in a Cartier box. Turning over a lousy feeling for the good one underneath is enough. Smiling to refute a frown is a great beginning. Then look at what’s causing any frown. Smooth it off the surface even as you remove it from the elsewhere, wherever that is.

To tune into who you are, it is needful to tune out all the rest of it. Like emptying the lungs of even the reservoir pocket of air at the bottom of each exhale, it is scary, it can feel life-threatening. But just as the air is always there when you’re ready to replenish, your self, that which might be called your soul is always there when you reach for it. If you have lived a life in & of this country, you may have to talk it back in from a distance, or allow the organics of it to re-root in your psyche.

You need to put down the barriers & walk outside of the boundaries where you have been “saved” for so long… I minded less than others putting down my phone & turning my computer into a simple communications device. I lived a long time simmering in my own silences which are now familiar & comfortable. I am one of those old women walking along the side of the road chatting with themselves, given away by my gestures. But it’s a private conversation & I’m enjoying it. The definitions of mental health need to be enlarged to include all the tools we claim we live by, if you want exclude people like me. What’s crazier than un-inhabiting the exact speck of time you are standing in by partaking of the past that created it & the future which will spring from it, through media which is ultimately damaging to the physical construct it claims to support? In other words, when you are watching a crimson & light sunset, why answer your phone?

Getting back to some connection with Nature has been my impetus for conscious, focused improvement. I learn there is no other way to be & be self-aware. My boundaries have all shifted into another “place entire.” I am allowed now, freed from schedules. I find myself unrestrained by hours I do not arrange, to think & to be whom I have planned for all along – even when I didn’t know I was planning anything much.

Each time I breathe, I breathe peace into it.

 

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Walls

As my “exhibit wall” expands, I do, too. I surround myself with what lifts me or brings me more into vibration with God.

(I write as I await the computer to return to me after faithfully reporting in to Big Brother. We are at 90% on updates, I have two pages to write in the book before it resurfaces its little all-seeing eye upon me.)

My space is not crowded, though I am finding more to put up. All of this will stay for some little while & then recharge the day I get up & take it all down to start.

The change I am experiencing usually comes in September, which has always represented a “beginning month” to me. (It’s mid-August, but I swear in my own truth it is September.)

I am more keenly aware of all not aligning with where I am cannot remain in the “energetic I” long. I think of the frame in the movie Whale Rider where she rides the beached whale into the sea after laboriously convincing him to turn around to face his own reality. When the whale sounds with her, she floats from his back, more than half-frozen, eyes closed, hands unwillingly opening. I cannot see yet at what cost, but I let go, opening my eyes now. Something in the mechanics of being alive changes profoundly.

I thought I needed to get a job & earn money. So, I figured maybe a little weekend work at the café when they are busy. The server there is many-years experienced, but I noticed she could use support work. I figured to bus tables & speed things up – maybe earn a “coinly” wage to supplement supplies. I wrote an application letter to the owners. I gathered up my mail for the post office as a via point, walked across the street & into the café. As soon as I entered, my eye fell upon the second server! Guess this was not my job. Which was as well because taking in their black slacks, stiff white blouses & natty black aprons, I realized I probably can never wear a uniform again.

I deepened other activity times, walking West in the blaze of glory which clothes sunset in New Mexico. I walk to the bridge to see how high the creek is running. This enlarges my morning walk, East, into sunrise, bracketing it nicely. And a new-again Yoga practice to devote myself to.

All of me is coming together. Even as I take the time in consciousness to slow down in my head, I pick up physical speed. It feels good. I do not have to have music or a book; in fact, I begin to recognize a more specific effect that others’ words & stories have upon me. I ask myself if I wish to participate? Cannot tell you how many books & movies I’ve returned to the library after a cursory perusal of contents. But where I once became anxious without a book on hand to dive into, I find I can sit outside of an evening to wait for whatever sounds may float by. I light my luminaria on the table & put my feet up. I psychically repel mosquitoes.

Who will emerge when the Hillsboro Chrysalis opens is anyone’s guess. The women in the West with the best survival rates have always been warriors. But the warrior I want to be carries no weapons; remains defenseless, never calls upon remorse or blame, offers only witness as the ultimate in participation. Bringing none, blaming none, bluffing none. It’s just me again, facing another door & liking the me on the other side.

 

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Anatomy Lesson

The cat living with my roommate was born a twin. They came to this house together. From what I can gather, the kittens were named Pinky & Blue. But Blue took insult to a slammed door & wandered down the road to live with Cactus Jim. Pinky has blossomed.

Blue went missing two weeks ago from his adoptive home. He was the kind of cat cars stopped for: a peach-point Siamese. He was super-social so he would begin a conversation with everyone from a little distance away, meowing louder as he approached for a greeting.

When I lived at the motel, he often walked across the parking lot to where I was seated outside. He’d jump into my lap & settle for about three minutes. If my  door was open, he would wander through the tiny studio & wait by the back door to exit. I enjoyed his visits & his comments…

I was thrilled to move in with his brother!

Pinky, or as I call him, Couscous, (which is what I call all cats as I like its sibilance), has undergone a sea change. I believe a bit of Blue has taken up residence. The cat suddenly wants to cuddle at every opportunity. Usually, Pink was outside from post-breakfast to pre-dinner under our neighbor’s rosebushes. Now he hangs around beyond the door for a couple of minutes to see if I’m following him out with a coffee. Sometimes he will walk out the door & turn around, coming back in when I do not follow him out.

Unlike his nocturnal wanderings of a month ago, he stays indoors most of the night curled up with me. I am so grateful; I have wanted a cat for many years & I love being singled out by him. He is getting used to kisses atop his head, but rather likes his chops kneaded more.

He is an outside cat, & quite the hunter. Two nights ago, Pink brought me a baby bunny body. It was placed ceremoniously on my rag rug in the bedroom. The inner organs were clean & arranged together in the center of the tripartite display; the fur (complete with ear) & right side up, was beside these, about two inches away, also placed carefully. Another bundle of something huddled on the left side. There were no fluids involved. Now, to get this into the house, Pinky had to bring it through his cat window one piece at a time.

The precision of placement of each piece amazed me. I was not disgusted, or upset. (The bunnies have been overproductive this summer, which brings out rattlers.) I am honored to be the receiver of these gifts. I have asked “my people” to talk to “his people” about not bothering to bring more food.

I burned white sage over the remains & thanked the kit for being willing to do ceremony with me. I thanked it for being a sacrifice for love.

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Light-Riders

Above: If grass can grow through cement, love can find you!

So have faith in what you do. You agreed to be where you are. You shouldered what you are doing. Keep your eyes on the future, know that it exists, hold the space for it to happen gracefully & in its own time. Be a child, link your hands with those of the ascended beings who chose you, in all the world, to work with. Honor their trust & enlighten your world with the light they shine on you alone. Even if you have an audience of one & it is yourself, feel your work to be of such worth that the world will never see the like again.

Find your joy & swim around in it, get all wet’n’wild with it; never let it go. Bend time to your will for it is indeed malleable & willing to become the basket in which you place your most valued possessions. Volunteers don’t get to choose. Theirs is only to DO.

You are not of this planet; stop trying to think you can be an earthling. Accept who you are, faults, flaws, perfections & transcendences all together. Know that whoever sees your work benefits from it. If you are faithful to that which is your joy, if you remove ego from it, if you treat each speck of energy as tho it lights the torch the world will see by, you do it rightly.

Have the faith & trust in what you do – both your Lightworker duties and your Worldly ones. When you simply “Know That,” you pave the way for all to happen in the future. It may not be happening in this timeline. You may be fueling another, or setting up a future incarnation when you’ll be the one everyone looks to.

Love yourself, darlin’, it could be so different. Once you relax & stop two-stepping, you’ll make more steady forward progress. I know this to be true. I know pigs can’t fly, I know I don’t like flying very much, I know heights make me uncomfortable, but I also know with the same breath that I am a sylph in a peasant’s sturdy worker body, that I do fly every time I make a wish or see a star, that I love nothing more than to see out over the world and breathe it in/out as no one has ever done before.

Dear & Beloved friend, child, awesome worker of Light, I am holding you, I am holding onto you, I am breathing you. When you cannot find your way out of the tangle, I am busily clearing the path.

With all my love,

Carol

 

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Daylight Spending Time (11/15/16)

(From her to me – A Message from one of my Guides…)

This time change is more unsettling. No longer routine, it has you flexed & poised for a change which isn’t yet an event. You & everyone else out there are poised for the different, the new, the moveable feast & sitting, holding a knife & fork is frustrating when the food just doesn’t show up.

Yes, you do what is yours to do. You carry it forward as you go, since there’s really no going back. No matter how glamorous the life looked, it isn’t the reality you once escaped. And you are so well aware of that.

You recapture in small increments the deeds that brought satisfaction once. You find your favorite place in the sunny library on a brisk day, only to have the building announce it is closing in ten minutes just as you lay pen to paper. However, the conversation of twenty minutes which prevented you from writing was more important. Balance.

You don’t need a writing coach, you need an editor. You need someone to go thru the material & tell you what works in the world. Only on TV do first efforts bear fruit so emphatically. You’re still perceiving thru a glass darkly when your eyes see real light, changing & holy but when the rest of you feels shadowed. In this perception is great clarity, but also some confusion.

The desire for change brings it about, but it is not the change.

You have repeated & restated your priorities any number of times. This hasn’t effected any of them, though it has affected your way of thinking.

Yes, you remember so much. Your mind can be a razor blade & your words cut deeply. But I know you to be kind in your truth & careful in your telling of it. That’s what counts.

You have found many communities of comfort here, many more than anywhere else you’ve lived. Your true roots are here for the you of this moment, this date, and resident of this ever-particular now.

Carol, you’re old enough to know so much. Your memory & perceptions are prodigious. Your next calling will be one of such beauty & clarity it will be breathtaking.

So put your heart into your life, keep it front & center, hold it high as any standard ever could be. Keep your humor and don’t give up or relax your vigilance for a better life because no matter how good this one may be, there is always such available to you.

You don’t have to wrestle any bears or harness any giraffes. You only must remain steady in the expression of your gifts & be tender in your presentations of them to the world. You only have to celebrate who you are. All else is being taken care of in the most divine way.

Put your hands to work & your heart will work your hands. All you do shall be blessed & blessing. Be who & how you are: show up – walk into the water. It may seem shallow, but only for a little while longer. Soon its depth & richness will amaze you.

It really is ok to be who you are, doing what you’re doing. Rest in this so all else may flow forward.

We love you, dearest one.

Shine on, Beloved.

Shine on.

Angelina of the Violet Eyes

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