Impact

This week I got a couple of reminders of how you can make an impact on somebody. Childhood is a unique time of life. Little things mean a lot. I had a friend from my childhood contact me via Facebook. We were best friends in fourth grade. She lived two blocks away.  The summer when I was nine, she and her sister talked me into joining swim team with them. They taught me to swim the four strokes (butterfly, backstroke, breaststroke and freestyle) in a weekend. Until then, I had only swam dog paddle. I had been afraid of deep water. I had not been a swimmer. They taught me to swim and I swam and swam, on a swim team that summer, winning ribbons at swim meets.  I went on to be a great swimmer. As an adult, I even got certified as a scuba diver, which required me to dive to 15 feet without an air tank and rescue someone else ( who was holding their breath too) in the cold, Pacific ocean. A very big deal for someone who at age six and seven, was terrified of the deep end of the pool.

This friend and I lost touch when we were in High School. Her parents had moved to Louisiana and she resisted, stubbornly, refusing to go. My last image of her was with a cigarette and her moped, tough and refusing to do something she did not want to do. She squatted at her parents' old house as it moved through escrow. Sleeping on the beach when the house was no longer available. Her parents were important to me. Her dad was sweet, giving his daughters pretty much any thing they wanted. Her mother was strict and cold. She had a formal living room which we kids were not allowed to enter. She never let us make cookies because it would make too much of a mess. From this friend and her mom, I learned that you should make a mess when you can. Sit on the citrine colored couch, stain it even. Life is too precious to keep clean or to save. This friend's Facebook pictures reveal that she eventually moved to Louisiana.

Now, as a mother, as an adult, I know I have an impact on the kids in my life. This week during noon aide duty, I had the opportunity to soothe a kid who has a reputation for being bad. He is only a first grader but you can see that he is precariously perched on a point and could fall to either side. I got to gently clean mashed potatoes from his curly brown hair as he ranted "I hate myself...I hate this place... I want to kill myself...Everybody here is so mean...".  And then I got to look him in the eyes, tell him I cared about him, that I was his friend and that I wanted him here and that getting into a food fight with mashed potatoes is really no big deal. He let me hold his hand until we were visible to other kids. He is now  my friend and I really do care about him.

I learned all this and more from the adults in my life when I was a child.

Dancing Through Lifetimes

When I was giving birth to my first child, Kieran, my labor was relatively short and the pain remained manageable, so I didn't have a use for drugs or an epidural. When I got to the pushing phase, I had this familiar feeling, like I had experienced this very thing a hundred times before. My body knew exactly what to do, like it was an old pro at it. It was strange and soothing to feel so comfortable doing something that was entirely new to me. Or was it?  I have noticed that my daughter seemed to come out of the womb knowing how to draw, and my son picked up many skills as if he were simply remembering something that he already knew. How many musicians have begun their careers, driven to play an instrument that they feel they already know?

I am beginning to formulate some patterns here, in my own life and in observing the paths of others'. Yesterday, I went to Dance Tribe at the Gustafson Dance Center. I would describe it as a a High School Dance for mature adults who know themselves well enough to be themselves completely. The only rules are No Shoes and No Talking. The setting was a very large dance studio, with only ambient twinkling lights, scarf covered lamps and candles. The DJ played soothing, meditative music with a slow beat at first, which was great for stretching and warming up the body but then moved on to some fantastic tribal beats of African and Carribian origin. I also recognized music with a  Spanish influence and even though it may not have looked like it, I knew how to dance to all of this. I just closed my eyes, turned off my mind and all thoughts of myself and how I might be perceived and moved at the will of my body.  Shaking, waving, undulating, hopping, stretching, swinging arms, hands, legs torso, I could feel the past comfort me, like finding a memory of home that had been completely forgotten.

I realized this morning in meditation that the body remembers the past lives better than the conscious mind does. When the conscious, intentional mind gets pushed back to a place of quiet observation, the memories ingrained in the cells have a chance to emerge. We know a lot more than we think we know. It certainly explains why without logical explanation, some people don't like things worn around their neck, some people are afraid to fly and some people feel terrified of water.

I love the idea that I have had lifetimes that spanned so many cultures and that my body may still know what those lifetimes beheld. I plan on experimenting more with this form of dance as meditation. I hope you can consider giving your conscious, critical mind a little break, join me and find out what you know but didn't know you knew.

Respect for the Weather

It doesn't rain much here. Sometimes it rains, a damp drizzle. A dew, really. This could be why we have had four major fires in the last two years.

 In the years since I have lived in Santa Barbara, I have experienced some REALLY good rains; storms that flooded streets, felled  large trees and brought hillsides, sliding across the freeway into the ocean.  Last week we had one of those big weather events. I had been looking forward to it for days. Ever since I got my dad's old iphone, I have been a fan of the Weather Channel app. I check the ten-day, the thirty six hour and the hourly forecast every day. Multiple times a day, actually. While some people are checking Facebook, I am checking the Weather Channel. This storm system  was a big one with the promise of heavy rain with thunderstorms, cold wind, hail, low snow levels, large swells, water spouts and possible tornadoes.  Being members of the irreverent club meant that Jill and I headed out for a lunchtime adventure at the Wharf on Tuesday.  She came dressed in foul weather gear. I came in a skirt and a "rain coat" I bought in 1996 on sale at Macy's and a rain hat given to me by my mother Christmas of '95.  The swells were high, bringing the ocean surface to within feet on the Wharf. Jill walked out to the edge for a better view. We had shrimp tacos at the Crab House at the end of the Wharf, warming our hands around cups of green tea.  Afterward, we drove down Cabrillo Blvd. to see the boats that had washed up on shore. The tide at East Beach was all the way to the parking lot. We both took our naps under the cover of pitter-pattering rain on our respective rooftops. There could be almost nothing more delicious.

I heard from My Mom, a reliable source of news, that there was a "tornado" like event that brought down several trees that crushed several cars on Haley Street. There was a woman trapped in one car with a seven-week old baby. We hoped she was able to breastfeed- I can't imagine being trapped with a crying newborn in a crushed car in the rain with post-partum hormones.   Jill reported that something like a dozen boats washed up on the beach and one sunk right off shore. These were boats moored outside of the harbor, where the rent is a lot less expensive.  I haven't heard about any mudslides from the recent fires, in fact, I think I can actually SEE the grass growing on the mountains. They are getting greener by the day.

 My kids and I were a teensy bit sad to see the rain retreat on Friday. The forecast calls for 70% chance of rain on Monday and Tuesday, so we are feeling a bit better. crazy, I know. But too much sun isn't good for anyone.

Forty or Forty Thousand

Jill celebrated forty this month- in a way I am proud to have been a part of. It was a weekend event, laden with our kind of fun. Getups, nature, cupcakes, candles, sacred spaces, history and magic. We are spiritual, in our quests and in our nature. Our methods have no rules though. I get the feeling that this is one of our "Soul Purposes".  I like to look at rules on things and question them. I like to glance into the dark to find the light in it. I,- actually-, we like to be irreverent out of reverence, because taking things too seriously just isn't the way of love. Love, the higher vibration love, the kind that goes way beyond the body and the physical, has no rules that can't be toyed with. And so, Jill and I were blessed enough to pay homage to the thousands year old petroglyphs carved by shamen of long ago with our giggles and silliness. We made our singing bowls vibrate together until we thought the aliens would land. We giggled in the dark blanket of night and mimicked the hooting owls from the the comfort of a heated yurt. We (I) breathed in the purest moments of complete joy in reverence to all the sacredness of this particular experience. Without perfection, with complete respect of our disrespect for certain rules. In fun and in Love, for the greatest good.

Reverence

I have a long blog to write, perhaps a book according to Jill, on silliness and all that is sacred. We just came off a White Lotus High. We giggled all the way through the sacred stone circle, the Kieva- (Jill thinks it's Keva I think it's Kiva), the singing bowls, the yurts, the stones, sacred circle of women in meditation, water, fire and blessed sage-filled air. We giggled our way through all of it.

 The thing is, I can see us a thousand or so years ago, as old men in meditation robes, giggling. I suspect that giggling is the secret part of praying, meditation, healing and life. Nothing is so sacred that it should be free from the joyous celebration of laughter. The giggling and irreverence in your reverence is the secret- the black is white, pain is joy secret that we need to share with you. Laugh. Find a friend to giggle with and do it. Everywhere. It is probably the most powerful prayer that there is.

Quandry

Based on the sole comment I received from my last post I have a few thoughts. If your goals in life include being thinner and or richer than you are, might I suggest imagining yourself as these things and acting as if they already are. If you need help visualizing this, there are many simple techniques available today with the use of digital cameras and computers. Even a good old fashioned picture, a pair of scissors and a copy machine would do the trick. Just take a picture of yourself, crop, elongate, re-touch, or cut it to look like the "new improved you". Paste it on a piece of card stock and add accessories to imply wealth. A Lambourghini, expensive shoes, a large dwelling or two, yaht, pictures of currency, a Van Gogh or Picasso, wrinkled, worn-out looking passport, Louis Vitton luggage, and what have you. Just imagine what your day to day would be after the "miracle" and live there. Maybe you are just on vacation and you have gained a few pounds eating local foods. On vacation, you like an authentic experiences and have been staying in a less than regal dwelling, with cheap furnishings. Your worn out old car is just a rental, borrowed for the duration of your visit. Make the best of it, have fun, you're on vacation. Part of your vacation is to do local work. Tell yourself, " Isn't it fun to experience life from this angle? "  Meditate on how your skinny body and large bank account will change the way you see the world and the way you see yourself in it.  Ask your guides for help. If after all this, you still find yourself in debt and overweight, you might consider the idea that your soul has the opportunity for more profound growth in this state.

 To answer your question as to whether a penny is a hologram for a million dollars, yes. It is for certain. It's all there. you can bank on it. Yep.

Meditation

I can't remember exactly when I started meditating each day. I guess it was such an enjoyable experience that it became a ritual, a habit, part of my method of starting the day, like my cup of weak coffee with milk. I like to get up before the sun. The black, star-speckled sky feels like a blanket of comfort to me. The darkness helps me to let go of my surroundings and dwelve inward.

My meditations aren't formal. I sit on the couch with my feet on the ground (sitting cross-legged hurts my hips and I find pain to be a distraction during meditation). I prop pillows behind my back so that my head and spine are in alignment. I cover my lap with a blanket. Most mornings, one of my three cats jumps on my lap to join me. I begin by aligning myself, focusing on the Earth below, the sky above, the left, right, front, back, inside and outside of my body. I do this three times. I then ground myself, following with my mind the path of my energetic grounding cord all the way to the center of the Earth. I show my appreciation for the Earth. Then I imagine myself in a pillar of light that originates from the heart of the Universe, traveling all the way down to me, through my crown, encompassing my whole body, then into the Earth. Yummmm. I can almost always feel the buzz of that energy coming trough me. It is delicious!

 What happens next varies from day to day. I'll tell you, part of the goal of meditation is just to quiet the mind. Silence is a magnet for chatter and tons of ridiculous stuff fills my head, like snippets of Christmas carols, TV show story lines, all kinds of meaningless static. I have learned one technique to clear the static, it's really powerful. I tune in to the sound of my soul. Ask yourself what this is for you. Mine is very distinctive and so far, it has always been the same. That usually works to focus my mind.
I frequently invite my spirit guides, my guardian angels, any enlightened nature spirits to join me in my meditation. I ask for a clear connection to their guidance for the day and to be true to my soul's work.  I also focus on my appreciation and love for my physical body during meditation. This is something we, in our society don't seem to really grasp very well. Our bodies are simply biodegradable vehicles that are on loan for our soul's journey through this lifetime. They are vessels for the soul, not the soul itself. They are  borrowed for our use and trusting us for care and keeping. It seems rather backward that we should be so abusive to our bodies, both in thought and in action when their sole purpose is to allow us a physical experience here on Earth.

In meditation I go through my body, part by part, organ by organ and give my full appreciation to it, to every cell, even every atom that contains my soul. I actually feel the attention in my body. If you do nothing more than this, focus a deep appreciation and love for your body, then your meditation will be very useful. Let us get some perspective. The big picture reveals that there is a lot more out there of importance than the materialistic focus we encounter from our mass media.  

I just finished reading a book called THE LIVING UNIVERSE. It was an amazing book. I recommend it for everyone who wishes to engage in the shifting consciousness. One of the most interesting aspects of this book involves holographic theory and the time-space continuum. In a hologram, every part of the picture contains the whole. Just like in our bodies and in every living thing on earth. Every cell with a nucleus contains the genetic blueprint for the entire organism. Interesting, huh!? So, one theory suggested in this book, The Living Universe, is that you are a part of the universe. You are an integral part. You matter to the heath and well being of the cosmos. The universe is you. Funny, that is the idea behind the film I conceptualized and started filming two years ago entitled, YOU. It is meant to symbolize "U" meaning Universe.  You are the Universe. The Universe is You. Coincidence?

If you would like more on meditation and tips for meditative focus, feel free to comment.

Look what my new camera can do!

No words are necessary And besides that, I don't have time right now.

Ouch! That HURTS!

Stephanie and Ted left today. I know their being here in Santa Barbara was only temporary but I have grown fond of our daily workout antics, our texting and just being together again. We have always been close and it hurts to have her leave. I just have to have a good cry, admit that it hurts, feel it till it's better and make my reservations for a quick trip to Mobile, Alabama.
 Feeling the "dark feelings" is something I am trying to do more of. When they are here, I'm gonna feel 'em. No more hiding the depression in the cupboard, tucking the bitchiness away in the back of the fridge. No more burying the sadness under the bedclothes. I'm wearing them out. Tears to the grocery store, runny nose in the kitchen, bad mood to the morning workout. I am going to show up real. Starting now. I miss Steph. I Am SO happy Stacy is coming but she is not here yet and so there is no distracting me from my sadness. Ouch. It HURTS.

Back to Magic

The last few days have provided a smooth delivery back to a state of magical bliss. On the 22nd, Jill dressed herself up like a present and she, Steph  and I with all of the kids, went bowling. The bitch in me hadn't boiled off by then, but it was a good start.  That night, we all went to Cathy M's for an elegant party to celebrate Mom. It was fabulous and I became more blissful because I was able to put on my gown, which had been begging to be worn since September.

The 23rd was heaven. We started with a sunrise workout on the beach then a massage and a viewing of Stacy and Tony's new house. I got a nap and then, the very best thing in the whole entire universe, a trip to Jill's Winter Solstice Sweatlodge. The sweatlodge experience stopped time for me. It is a ritual that changes everything. I came away purified and renewed. Last night, Tom and I hosted the best Christmas Eve ever. Cadence's boyfriend Matt is here for Christmas, Darcy is feeling better, Maile gave us the gift of her presence and my WHOLE BELOVED FAMILY was in my house for two hours straight. I was in HEAVEN. Oh, and I was wearing a shiny red silk charmeuse strapless top and feeling pretty feisty, I might add.

This morning, I see that Santa made an appearance, leaving piles of presents on all the seating areas in the living room. It is a magical christmas.

Bitchy for Christmas

I'll admit it. I'm in a bad-ish mood. Yeah, ME. Could it be that EVERY time I sit down to write at my computer or make jewlry, Mr. Stripes sits where my working hands should be? I literally have to encircle him with my arms to get to the keyboard. He purrs quietly as I do this. Yes. I move him. But EVERY time, he returns to the exact same spot, in front of my hands.
Could it be that I started working on creative gifts for Christmas in early November so that I could be done and put my feet up and enjoy the magic sparkle around me, only, here we are on December 22 and I am surrounded by messy messes everywhere made by my very own crafting craze? What the fuck!
And then there is Brittany Murphy dying at age 32. That's just wrong.  You are not supposed to just drop out without warning. It's upsetting to the rest of us, even if it was your scheduled time to go.
 My meditations the last few days have been filled with christmas songs that are stuck in my head, repeating like a hit clip from 1999. Today I have to pay bills, gather gifts, clean up two half-mauled gingerbread houses to make room for making a meal tonight, oh, and the electrician is coming to stop the upstairs smoke detectors from chirping every 12 seconds.
What I would like is to be taken care of, nurtured, loved. I would like someone to tell me how beautiful I am, inside and out, not that they want me to have my hair dyed for their birthday present or that I should start taking my thyroid medication to help burn off that extra weight. I would like to have the time and desire to make dinner, or have someone else want to take on the job. I would like to finish all my gift-making and close up shop until Valentine's Day. I would like to FEEL. Feel energy rushing through me during meditation, feel the love I give and receive, feel happy, feel like laughing, feel the crying that needs to happen, feel pissed off, if that's what I need.
I think I feel better now.

Just For The Love Of It

I have been creating. This week it has been jingle bell necklaces on yarn for all the kids at school, gemstone earrings, bellychains and chokers. When I make stuff, like candles, therapeutic oils,  and gate pulls, I can't really imagine a feeling of satisfaction from selling them, it is the thought of giving freely that thrills me. I think I'm turning into Santa Clause.  I can imagine a world where we trade from our heart, our creative endeavors, our true selves and give back in appreciation for the gifts given to an individual that are meant to be shared. I find it rather funny actually, that we put so much power behind the dollar, when it's really just a silly piece of paper. And like I said, it just doesn't thrill me.

So, this week, I make things to give, trusting that the trade value will be fair. If nothing else, I am racking up (or paying back) some serious karma. On that note, I win every time, for the joy of giving warms me like nothing else. Ho Ho Ho.

Im So Lucky

11 Things I'm Thankful for

by, Kieran

The yummy foods you make

me are very delicious

The cousins I deserve are fun to 

run and play with

The little potato song you sang

made me go to sleep

My gift of art makes me draw,

not saying a peep

A very rainy morning 

would really make my day

Living in a very nice place

makes me want to stay

My best friend I met in Kindergarten,

I really miss her so.

The nights you tell stories to me

lets all the bad things go.

And what I'm thankful

for today and all year long is...

My caring London dog, my

buddy Mr. Nilson

and my annoying brother Aidan. 

Storms Reveal Treasure

It has been a profound year of transformation. I would be lying if I didn't acknowledge the major shit that went down in my world during the last twelve months.  First of all, I have to say that I am a happy person. I wake up happy almost every day. I am in a good mood most of the time. I am kind to people as a rule. I rarely get really mad. I resist(ed) the storm, under the illusion that happy people don't go to that dark and unpredictable place where things get messed up and potentially destroyed. Happy people aren't unhappy. Happy people are constant, like the desert sun. Right÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷?
Just thinking about writing all of this stuff down overwhelms me, so I will try and condense it all into a few cliche infused metaphoric sentences.  Tom, my beloved husband and I had been married without really knowing each other for over ten years. Both rather passive, we each lacked the skills for complete communication. It was our daughter, Cadence who saved us from our business relationship marriage.  It was June and she and I had been in a state of miscommunication for years. The last straw brought her to pack her bags and leave forever, but I begged her to stay. I begged with all my heart that I would do anything to get her to stay and I meant it. This brought us to Adela, the psychic therapist, who asked me the question, "WHY have you settled for this? why????" The question took me and eventually, us deep into the scary, stormy place where I had dared not venture, because happy people aren't dissatisfied with their lives. Happy people don't get angry with their situations. Happy people who are sunny all the time turn into dried up shrivelled old prunes with nothing to give anymore and that was where i was headed.

A dozen or so twice weekly sessions with Adela, both alone and with Tom and even once with Cadence, took me to my deepest darkest places of dissatisfaction, pain, grief, tornado sobs, hurricane force breathing, tsunami pain of loss, flooded avalanches of old emotions that got washed away completely.

Adela told us that we had to go away together. I could feel that neither of us really wanted to, until that day I found some peculiar things on the computer which led Tom and I to our new place of adoration for each other. Like me, Tom had always felt that he had to be "perfect", that he could not be stormy or flawed or wrong. I inadvertently uncovered a flaw of his. He trusted me enough to be honest about it and I fell in love with the man with the flaws. Perfect is fiction. He was becoming as dessicated as I was in his constant state of happy.  I couldn't believe the transformation that occurred with us. I fell so deeply in love with him, his energy, his essence and I could absolutely feel the same adoration and respect mirrored back to me.  A miracle. Storm Saves Desert from Destined Death Due to Draught.

In conclusion, here are a few pictures from our outrageously romantic and fun weekend away in New Orleans. My husband adores me and I couldn't love him more. Oh, and as it turns out, we have a of of fun together, even without the kids. Lucky Us!!