A Table On the Moon

 

 

I was sitting in my favorite coffee shop, my mind racing as usual, trying to slow it down by watching the female patrons with their funny little drink preference habits– some of them as long as the names of food ingredients on labels that most of us cannot even pronounce. I looked at the shoes the women are wearing, if they have on sandals I assessed how well they care for their feet, whether they have bunions from shoes too tight or if they’ve avoided the modern day version of foot binding. I looked at whether the second toe is dominant or not, which as I have read, also means a dominant personality! I looked at their calves if they are showing, to assess whether they are physically active or have no calf development, usually meaning they are not. I looked at how they were dressed, but I don’t care about fashion—just curious what different tastes these female coffee lovers have. I brought my journal along with plans of writing, but I couldn’t stop looking or watching the women parade in and out of the Café Boulevard. I love watching Women, anyway!!

I pretend I am on the Champs Elysees or on some busy street in Paris becoming a famous writer. And in my angst, which all writers must have to be good writers, don’t they, I decide that I am alone because of having just separated from my lover. I feel cynical and that relationships were never meant to last, yet, I am grateful for all the ones I have had, deciding I will love again, but not for awhile—all just to get me in the angst ridden writer mood!

I played with Facebook on my way to the story I’m working on–of course, the world’s newest diversion!

Concentrating now on getting closer to more writing…

I was saddened to hear about a terrible forest fire in one of my favorite towns of Manitou Springs, Colorado. I hurriedly called my friends who live near there to see if they were all right.

So here I am… what it all boils down to, is commitment. Am I committed enough to finish what I have started with my writing? I was journaling about this subject the other morning, realizing today that there are varying degrees of commitment and I want to keep my focus on the bigger ones, rather than the itsy bitsy ones.

Time is fleeting, or so I’ve heard, but I think I must’ve heard incorrectly, because it does not exist—it’s an illusion, isn’t it? At any point, the days, the sunrises, the moonrises come and go so quickly, I am feeling a little dizzy and sad, too, at the loss of one day after another—did I do enough, accomplish enough? Did I see enough or hear enough or feel enough? Did I think enough? More importantly, did I love enough? Did I send out supplications to the Universe for gratefulness, enough? And then the big question, how do I know what is enough?

I love sitting here in this café de Champs Elysees in Oregon! I feel sequestered and cozy in a way, because no one bothers me, especially since I look very engrossed in writing. People, it seems, are very polite in not bothering someone who looks like they are writing or studying and even though what I am writing seems of no significance, they do not know that. So I go on looking serious and pondering, while the women and men, but I’m only interested in the women, come and go in their various attires and different coffee drinks.

Humanity is a puzzler, excluding myself, cuz I pretty much know me, but all other humans are not like me. I do not feel alone in the world, but I am different—in my thinking, my believing and doing. It is nice and rare to find someone who gets me, who understands me, without trying to change me. And I do not care that I am this way, I am not an outcast—I am just me.

Though, I believe everyone else is my sister or brother and that we are all one under the Sun, I know we are all different and unique in our own ways, mostly. There are those who strive to follow the mass herd, but therein lies the rub—the puzzler, to me. I could go on and on about the psychology involved in why they are like that and following convention or the masses, but it’s been beaten to death. What distinguishes me, and this is not separation, from a lot of the rest is, I have been able to find my own place in what is commonly called a world of chaos, and that’s just it. I have learned that it isn’t chaos unless one thinks and acts and responds to it as chaos. I have also learned as of late, that we are all learning from one another, mostly because we are all standing in different spots on this earth, literally, and we all have a different perspective on what is going on around us. Neither one of us can have exactly the same perspective, because physically we cannot see what another sees, unless we could stand in one another’s shoes— “walk a mile in my moccasins”! So, to that end, we need one another, as independent as we want to believe we are, we truly are not. We may all be going in the same direction, but on a slightly different angle or degree and, therefore, have a different take on where we are going and how. Even if we are not going the same direction we will all be going to the same place, eventually, and along the way it is nice to know there are others who are sauntering down the path with a different view they can point out. Of course, I can either accept their viewpoint or not, but once it is in my mind, it is there, and I can perhaps use it to my benefit, adding it to my repertoire of information, or ignore it. This is what makes me different from the others sauntering, or running down the path. There are those who would rather ignore anything anyone says, thinking they are being independent and “no one is the boss of me” and learn in their own way, but really nothing is new under the Sun, so independence is an oxy-moron. We are all “in–dependence, if you will, because we need one another’s perspectives.

Then there is the Quantum Physics/Mechanics theory that we are all just cells arranged in the forms we are most able to comprehend and all the cells from everyone else who has died, whether positive or negative, are floating around in the atmosphere around us and become part of us. Well, we are all a part of one another, theory or not, and we need each other.

So, with that in mind,

 

 

 

 

 

 

My new book is finally published!! Yeahhh!!

Grace Forever

Forever. I want to live forever. When I converse with the Universe, I don’t say, “till the end of my life, or until I die,” because it’s too limiting. I want forever, with only one stipulation, of course, that I am healthy and strong.
In other words, I don’t want to die. I don’t want to miss out on anything. I have not been comfortable talking about death—my own—I know it happens, but not to me. I don’t believe in it. I believe if I take care of myself, eat right, take vitamins and herbs, think positively and stay as active as possible, I can live at least a very long life. Researchers say that those who want to live long lives usually do and I do want to live a long life–preferably forever! I don’t believe in old and decrepit. I don’t believe in life just happens, or life just deals out cancer, or heart problems, or any of the diseases that people come down with. There are many reasons they can happen, such as environmental toxins, tainted food, drugs, legal and illegal, etc., but I think a lot of times it comes down to “thoughts become things.” Yes, I guess you could say I’m in denial, maybe, I just cannot accept what “they” (so-called experts) are telling me to believe.
I’ve been with people as they depart for the other side, or wherever, and also been involved in helping them in their departure by talking with them or helping them be comfortable. I tell them all the nice stuff about going to the light or that they’ll be with their loved ones who went before, but I don’t really know or believe in one particular thing. I’ve had loved ones die, but not in front of me. I have even cleaned up my little brother’s blood after he fell drunk, to his death, down his own stairs. So, I know about death. I just don’t know where we go, or how or why.
I saw some beautiful nature photos in a post, recently, on fb entitled “Navigating Everyday Life with Grace” and there are some very nice philosophical quotes from a book of the same name along with each picture, that add to my day. So, in navigating this day with some degree of grace—I don’t even know what grace really is, do I? It sounds real nice—just the word connotes a softness, a calmness, and an equanimity. Graaaaaccccce—such a wonderful sound and perhaps I can apply it to a bird who just now was calling out to others? Such a beautiful sound… Is grace giving in to the flow of life, knowing that everything’s all right? Is it acceptance of a higher energy that takes care of what I cannot? Relaxing into that flow? Is it acceptance that there is a spiritual force in the wind and the frost, the Sun and the Moon and our selves? That all these forces are no more powerful than our own hearts—that we are on a larger playing field where we are all on equal footing? Is it knowing, finally, that I am part of this beautiful Earth and this Universe and I am as beautiful as any star in the sky—and then acting, as such? Accepting this knowing and forgiving those who have not come to RE*COG-IGNITION? (re-lighting the flame of awareness). Graaaaacccccce, is it knowing that once again I will see my dearly departed ones in some other dimension or reality? That feeling of calmness rather than fear or anxiety about leaving this dimension even without knowing where it is I will go? Knowing my spirit and my heart know the path, the trail that I will travel? This alone is comforting, calming my quivering insides from the fears stacked up over time with the fears of others, the lack of faith in anything but themselves and their own material and prurient interests. My spiritual path is no “conkydink” (as my good friend would say), because I do believe we all dwell in spirit whether we are aware or awake to this or not, and what better or more beautiful place to dwell than this Earth and this Universe, which is also no “coinkydink.” And I believe that spirit dwells in us and “all that is” on this Earth, in this Universe. That maybe graaaaccccce is also accepting that I may never know, at least in this particular life time, the answers to why or how I entered this life, or depart it—that it just is…
As I sit here typing this, I am reminded of a good friend in Colorado who contracted breast cancer a year ago, went through the radiation and a mastectomy, only to find out later she might have something on her other side. Suffice it to say, she’s not too keen on having more radiation, and only did it the first time, because of her daughter—who insisted she not give in, but fight. Her attitude has always been that she’s not afraid to die, because she lived a hard life, with many experiences, managing to make it out alive, with a sense of humor I wish I had–so, she is ready any time. To say the least, I wanted her to do what she thought was right, but I also was devastated thinking I’d never see her again. Just after we left Colorado for Oregon, was when she announced about her first lump. I felt guilty for a short period, but then realized this was her own crazy thing of not wanting to bother us! Then, the other day, I get an email from another old friend, whom I haven’t seen but once, and only corresponded with for 35 years, who lives in Corvallis. Now a few years after she had chemo for her breast cancer, turns out she now has Mantle Cell Lymphoma, which is serious, according to Wikipedia. I had been wanting to see her and go for a bike ride with her, because she and her husband have biked all over the world and we both thought it would be so cool for us to go on a ride together. She was very important in my life in the early 70’s in West Seattle. It was one of those friendships that you cannot explain. I was weepy all morning, especially when she said she had some paintings she wanted to give me. It sounded so final. Then I realized we all make choices for our own journey’s, to learn whatever it is we decide we want to learn. Perhaps this is my lesson? To let go, with grace, and let my friends do what they are going to do, without judgement, or attempts to rescue, or cure them, knowing that I am also on my own journey? I did what I could for my friend in Colorado, but she clearly states that “you’re not the boss of me”, and so attempts to help fall on deaf ears–all I can do is send her positive energy and love because she doesn’t even want us to come visit. I will do what I can for my friend in Corvallis, and since she is not far away I can be with her–she sounds like she is more open, but I still cannot cure or rescue her. “Catching” these horrible dis-eases and dying at what I consider young ages, just seems so wrong, but there again, maybe it’s all of their own choosing? I choose not to “catch” one of them or to die young…
Graaaacccce, “I need your grace, to remind me, to find my own…” (from “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol)
So, all that being said, I admit I am afraid of dying. I am less afraid than I was several years ago. It’s just that I love life and, as I mentioned, don’t want to miss out on anything. I keep being told that there are more adventures, etc., etc., wherever the hell it is we go, but how do they know that? One thing is for certain, I do not believe in a heaven or a hell, at least in some ethereal, Christian way, I believe we create our own, but I do have inklings of believing there might be a nice place in another dimension—another energy, perhaps?
Then there’s dying to the old parts of me that are no longer relevant to my life! So, in essence, I am dying in many ways every day, n’est pas?
My partner, who is very knowledgable about death and dying and on her own spiritual path, suggested, after my being very sad about my friend, that I do an exercise about what I think heaven would be. I told her I don’t believe in a heaven and she says it doesn’t matter this is just an exercise, “do it anyway.” So, I wrote all these saccharine sweet things about fairies, animals, women and love, sex and music, hiking and biking, and less prurient things, like nothing but love and lack of judgement and total connection to the Universe, as well as, knowing what life was really all about. Then I said, “what now?” She just said, “That’s it.” I replied, “That’s it?” From that I gleaned that what I imagine is my “after life” is probably what it is. It was rather anticlimactic for me, to say the least. Although, I confess to a certain amount of relief and thinking, “hey, that would not be so bad.”

Love Thy Nature

“Hi,
My friend Sylvie Rokab is an award winning filmmaker working on the extraordinary film Love Thy Nature and I’d like you to join me in helping her take it to completion. She launched a Kickstarter campaign (to raise finishing funds) where you’ll see a short video and info about her film. BTW, she’s offering great perks from DVDs to film premiere screenings. http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1481639237/love-thy-nature-film
Come join this amazing cause and stunning project. I did!
Warmly,

Photo Title

Photo Caption

The Monster You Fear

The monster on the porch was scary. An arm with a claw hand that held a ripped off arm of another moved, as its head turned to expose an open mouth and the sharp teeth of a wolf–perhaps a werewolf. Blood stained the dirty white shirt it wore, as this wolf monster, out for blood and perhaps a meal, stood surveying the street. Jack O’ Lanterns with their lit up and scary carved out faces, whose intentions it was to protect the inhabitants of the home, from this very same monster, stood guard.  This time, it looks like it didn’t work!

Evil has a way of sneaking in between cracks and under doors. The early christians knew they needed to have something to protect them from anything unwanted and make sure “it” whatever “it” was, did not get through from the other side, along with their dearly departed ones. And this holiday is, as most holidays are, mixed with christian and pagan influences. Most holidays originating with the pagans or “country people” were co-opted from these “country people”, by the christians. The pagans celebrated the open door to the “otherworld” and the souls of loved ones, as well as the harvest and felt the time of Samhain, or end of summer, when the door is slightly ajar, allowed the dearly departed and the race of little beings known as Faerie to come through. So, to keep any harmful spirits from slipping through, with them, they decided they needed something scarier or more ‘evil seeming’ to ward them off. So, they played divination games and did rituals and, nowadays, we wear crazy, funny, or scary costumes and dance around and make noises to ward off the evil, while some of us who know about the veil do a silent acknowledgement or ritual for the dearly departed and see if we can re-connect or even receive some little sign that shows they hear us.

It is a clever and very scary celebration of an ancient holiday, this, my favorite holiday, Halloween.  I love all the crazy and creative costumes that are scary and fun, show casing creativity and adorning the porches and people who revel in this celebration of the thinning of the veil between the worlds of the dead and the undead. Watching the Halloween parade last year, hearing and feeling the beating of drums and blowing of horns in a salsa type sound was music to dance to and totally get immersed in—kind of an ancient spirit calling.

The monster on the porch only makes me laugh and oooh and ahhh at its cleverness–any resemblance to evil, short-lived.  The monster under the bed, only a childhood naivete and misunderstanding.

We all have fears, but being scared by friends or creeped out on Halloween is mostly fun and games. While we may not be afraid of the monster on the porch or the scary movie on T.V. or in theaters, because we are grown up and most of us know that there are no real monsters who suck your blood or rip your head or arm off, we like to watch these scary things. They take our minds off the scary things in life we really face.  Perhaps, they make us think that facing a werewolf could be worse, or a psychologically sick guy with a chain saw would be worse than war or cancer or dying in a car accident.

Of course, there are those who would have us believe that the evil of the devil is worse and that to protect yourself you must believe in a god and his rules or be damned forever to a life or death in an eternal fire! I have to admit that sounds pretty scary, but not any scarier than the wolf on the porch. However, at least the werewolf ripping my head off would be mostly quick! Dying of fright before any physical death!!

Halloween is fun, but there is a meaning to it that is part of our heritage as a family of humans in our earliest beginnings and with all the fun and color of costumes and reveling in the whole custom, take a moment to stop and remember it’s original purpose–to celebrate the harvest and the end of summer or beginning of the change of seasons. Remember that there could be a door ajar between dimensions, for you to be able to communicate with departed loved ones. And any fears you may imagine or have, remember they are only as real as you build them up to be—as big as the werewolf on the porch or the monster under the bed.

And maybe there is a metaphoric meaning for Halloween, such as “there is nothing to fear but fear itself”? Or that there really is nothing to fear and that we can be our own sheroes/heroes and get rid of the monsters ourselves.

Or maybe it is simply just an ancient ceremony that has been passed down over the centuries—ancient, as in, even before all the usual ‘religious’ holidays. Whatever the meaning or purpose, it is fun and scary and colorful and highly creative.  And we can get out there and enjoy it, especially beginning with the Halloween parade!