“I know where I’m going and I know who’s going with me. I know who I love and my Dear knows who I’ll marry…” Traditional Irish Ballad
New moon. Planets going (or in) retrograde. Equinox aready in the wings. A quickening. Sap rising. A sense of expectation…
Sometimes I think I live my life in song, the lyrics anyway.
“It Might As Well Be Spring” ~ restless as a willow in a windstorm
“Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most” ~ spring is here, there’s no mistaking, robins building nests from coast to coast
“In The Garden” ~ and he walks with me and he talks with me and he tells me I am his own
“Side By Side” ~ Oh! We ain’t got a barrel of money
Maybe we’re ragged and funny
But we’ll travel along
Singing a song
Side by side
We don’t know what’s a-comin’ tomorrow
Maybe it’s trouble and sorrow
But we’ll travel the road
Sharing our load
Side by side
Thru all kinds of weather
What if the sky should fall
Just as long as we’re together
It really doesn’t matter at all
When they’ve all had their quarrels and parted
We’ll be the same as we started
Just travelin’ along
Singing a song
Side by side
Thoughts, like fragments of songs, go swirling through my head:
Sometimes we almost feel embarrassed to be so blessed. Aren’t we silly?
Some trucks have their owner’s name emblazoned on the side. Cabs have little signs that stick up from their roofs advertising stuff. Busses, too, sell space to get somebody’s message across. We just have our Nevada license plate which reads LUV2YOU on the front and back bumpers. Besides the obvious advantage of defusing others’ potential irritation at us for going too slowly or driving like tourists, which we always are, there is simply the benevolence of the thing. We intend to be a blessing, however small and perhaps insignificant, wherever we go. You never know who needs to be told they’re lovable.
We travelled 175 miles today, it being Wednesday, our moving day. We left Bass Lake, where it rained most of last week, at 9:00 am and headed west and south for dryer, warmer climes in Bakersfield, California down Highway 99. After another stop at Trader Joe’s for groceries, we checked in to the River Run RV Resort at about 3:00 pm. It’s a lovely place, right next to a hotel with both pool and spa heated and open to us. There are restaurants in the hotel, steak house and sushi, we’re told, in addition to the usual fast food fare. Our cell phones have signals, there’s free WiFi that actually works, a handy laundromat, our satellite antenna isn’t competing with too many trees for a view of the southern sky, 30 amp electric hookup, water and sewer all working perfectly and the pad where we’re parked is even level with no adjustments needed! It’s the little things that mean a lot! We’re no longer used to the sound of traffic though. When we were tucked in little out of the way spots where many of those aforementioned amenities weren’t available, it was, however, very quiet. Almost like quiet was a thing, the way noise is.
The picture above wasn’t taken here. I think it was taken somewhere in Oregon. We were too tired to go exploring and take pictures when we arrived today. Maybe tomorrow, when we go to the pool. We like taking selfies while soaking, maybe you can tell that from previous posts!
But for now, I’m noticing (again) how much traffic sounds like surf…
And before we turn in, I just wanted to remind you of how very much you’re loved… Sweet dreams.
I used to think that my anxiety, or what some know as panic attacks, had real life corollary events or causes. Similarly, I expected that some change in the world of manifestation would be the remedy. Wrong on both counts apparently. I have witnessed and weathered terrible crises with remarkable aplomb, collapsed into helplessness when absolutely nothing averse was occurring and experienced no perceptible shift inwardly at all when conditions improved or deteriorated. Now that’s just weird if you ask me!
I do have a strong preference for equanimity, even cheerfulness. And I am willing to adjust whatever is necessary to restore my equilibrium. But sometimes the only thing that seems to work is a pill, prescribed by someone credentialed and taken according to directions. I’m not sure why that should be for me an occasion of shame; Ernest Holmes said there was as much God in a surgeon’s knife or a pill as in a prayer, and I have believed him on everything else.
So I hereby admit there are times when I weep uncontrollably for no apparent reason and times that I tremble with dread and other times when I am vicious in speaking to my most dearly beloved. But not today. I saw it coming and took the pill. I will return to reading (Fire and Fury, nothing upsetting there!) playing Words With Friends, listening to it rain on our metal roof, making beef stew and cornbread for dinner and gently responding to the dear man around whom my life revolves with good humor and gentle affection. I guess that makes the little pill a bloody miracle, huh?
“…Not all those who wander are lost…” Tolkien
We began the new year in Pine Grove, California visiting our granddaughters Maddie and Aiden who live with their maternal great grandparents Gerry and Carol Glover. Carol is a homebody who loves to cook and garden and play card games with our girls. She fed us wonderful meals every night for a week and still had time to read, bake fresh apple pies and attend four high school basketball games in which her great grandson played. Gerry is a retired firefighter with a garage full of mysterious tools and spare parts that can be used for all manner of things. On our behalf, since we arrived with the new refrigerator door in a box, he not only installed it for us but manufactured a necessary piece that was missing as well. Maddie worked everyday at her job in the local hamburger joint. She’ll be seventeen next week, and is tall, willowy, smart and thoughtful of others. While her job and social life are quite demanding, she made some time each day to spend with us so we could feel included in her life. Aiden, at twelve, is now five feet tall and wears the same size shoe I do! She is sweet and mischievous, somber and playful, wise beyond her years. It was such a delight to hold her on my lap, just for a minute, and then listen to how the world looks from her perspective. She also had great fun assembling the solar powered modular robot we got her for Christmas! It’s kind of like legos, only it does stuff and then she can disassemble it and reconfigure it as something else! We had a thoroughly satisfying and delightful visit.
Yesterday we drove into Stockton to get provisions at Trader Joe’s, fill up on fuel, mail a letter and replace our frayed iPhone charge cords before heading south to Bass Lake Recreational Resort. We’re just south of Yosemite and north of Fresno, nestled in the foothills at about 3500 feet above sea level. It rained a bit last night and more is forecast intermittently for the coming week, but we’re all snug and happy in our mini-casa. Gil says the pool is open and looks heated (steam rising from the surface) after his reconnaissance walk this morning, so I think we may give it a try when the sun peeks through. Meanwhile, I’m still experiencing some sort of bug that has me sneezing, coughing and feeling subpar. Fortunately I can just hunker down and heal. No demands or worries, nor even home repairs! But if we are to get back to our latest Dick Francis mystery, Gil will have to take over the reading aloud as I can barely croak and may lose my voice altogether. He is trying not to smirk.
Sometimes those of us who practice applying the Law of Attraction are accused of blaming the victims. I avoid this unnecessary and unproductive unkindness by not speculating on how your life is going or why. It is only useful when I apply my knowledge and understanding of this Law to myself and my own experiences. When I share what I learn, I become even more clear about it. If that resonates with you, then you can use it. If not, leave it. I don’t claim to know what’s best for anybody else. With that disclaimer in mind, here goes…
As that which is seen is made up from that which does not appear, or, since thoughts really do become things, I get that my life is my consciousness writ large. I don’t actually know or monitor my thinking carefully enough to be consistently aware of it, so it is helpful to me that it shows up in form in an ongoing fashion. And since the process of creation always moves from ideation to manifestation, it is true that “body is the last to know!” This time lapse can obscure a shift in consciousness that hasn’t made it into physicality yet, while my body is busy acting out a previous and unskilled mental attitude. This discrepancy, if not acknowledged, can lead to misinformed and counterproductive self-criticism. If I allow for the limitations of the space/time continuum and acknowledge that I am progressing nicely in my enlightenment process, I can nurture rather than impede my own growth.
So the appropriate question for me to ask myself is not: “Whatever was I thinking that brought on THIS?” but rather: “Isn’t it lovely I am releasing an old worn out idea and have moved on to something more elegant?”
Happy New Me!
No such thing. Every time I finish the dishes, fold and put away the last load of laundry, rake the last leaf, dry the last tear, I think of “it” as complete. Finally. Yeah, right. Not in this universe. The space/time continuum is a Möbius strip, going up the stairs in a drawing by M C Escher or the ones at Hogwarts, the original Never Ending Story, the Windmills of Your Mind… Is that comforting or terrifying? Depends.
This is when, in the Pacific time zone of the United States, we join together with people all over the planet in meditating for world peace. We began this annual practice many years ago while we were serving our church in Carson City, Nevada. We lived at Lake Tahoe then, a good half hour up the mountain. The winter snows have often begun by this time of year, and I remember one time when our son was quite small and not feeling well. We decided my husband would stay home with our sick child and I would drive down the hill to church the previous evening in order to outrun an anticipated winter storm. When I arrived, I unlocked the building, placed chairs in a circle around a little candle, set my Baby Ben alarm clock brought for that purpose to 3:45 and curled up with a pillow in the corner to get a few hours of sleep. The alarm rang, I awoke and lit the candle, then looked outside to see a beautiful blanket of fresh snow about a foot deep! I sat in the circle of chairs by myself and wished I was home with my family. No one came. That was the last time we scheduled an “event” at church for 4:00 in the morning! We would remind everyone the week before New Year’s Eve Day to set their clocks and join in meditation wherever they happened to be, but I never knew if anyone did. Now, more than thirty years later, we go to sleep so early each evening that waking at four happens easily quite often! Today I awoke with a sense of purpose at the appointed hour and began my quiet practice of centering and focus. And here, alone with Gil in our little motorhome, nestled in the forest of the foothills of the Sierra in California, suddenly I felt the community of souls worldwide, in blissful collective attention. We are not alone. Now, more than ever, there is a groundswell, not just of longing for peace, but actually expecting it to break out, burst forth and flower in our lifetime, before our very eyes. You see, we have to think it’s even possible and to feel our connection with one another in order for it to manifest. And I know it today with more conviction and celebration in my heart than ever before! I bid you Peace!