Thought of the Day: Okay

You and I are okay. Right now!  Over, under, or average weight. Big-nosed, pug nosed, button-nosed, broken nose. Big breasted, flat chested, floppy chested, implanted, perky, or lopsided. Pale, ebony, sallow, olive, pink. Freckled, stretch-marked, smooth, pitted, acne, moles, scarred.  Active, lethargic, just doing your thing. Married, single, divorced, widowed, dating, living together, in an open relationship. Gay, straight, bi, man, woman, transsexual.

What we have to remember is our worth is not in what the world tells us, because the world is a mirror, it reflects what we feel from experience.  Our truth is our being. Our spiritual journey is one of seeing, accepting, and embracing ourselves in the moment, in our pure being.

Tree by Emily Carr

So, you aren’t doing what you should. Okay. You aren’t going to do better by condemning yourself.  So let’s just be. Breathe and just be.  Eventually, in moments of just being, you’ll feel something special. You’ll feel, perhaps just for a moment, that your everyday sense of self is not who you are. You are part of something limitless, amazing, whole.

Don’t kick yourself when you don’t feel it, because you innately are okay wherever you are at. That’s the beauty and power of the present moment.

When we  try to move forward based in dis-approval of ourselves, we have to keep feeding that change with the fear we’ll be that awful person, and we’re trapped making positive change based in a negative place. Oftentimes that negative message just makes us stuck, so we hate ourselves more.

Just allowing ourselves the right to not judge ourselves gives us room to breathe.  And we can’t truly move forward if we aren’t getting the air we need just standing still.  So, give yourself a break today.  Allow yourself to just be. Gift yourself  with just a moment of being, of peace , right now.

When  we allow ourselves to be, when we can be okay, right now, that acceptance of our true selves shifts our thinking for us.  So the change comes organically from that  place of love, and it just builds.    I can’t think of a better way to grow!

Peace be with you, friends.

Arms wide, twirling

Here’s the image. An almost 40 year old plus-sized woman, in her old faded white nightie with the blue roses on it, runs gingerly out in her front yard, to avoid wayward slugs. She is instantly entwined in huge swirls of misted rain that is being blown all about by strong winds. A harvest moon sits somewhere in the sky, hidden by the glorious swashes of rain that keep her from even seeing what the sky really  looks like.

I danced with you, rain. I danced for you, magical Harvest moon. Thirty years ago when my mother taught me to sing “Shine on Harvest Moon” I was singing to you. I was dreaming of my husband  to be, who was off somewhere hidden in a future I could not see. I was singing about spooning, and wondering about the kids I would have one far off day.

Now my husband is in our bedroom, waiting for me. Our kids are in their rooms, safe. And you, moon, are tucked somewhere in the sky, spreading out grandly in sheets of clouds, as the rain blows harmlessly by.

One day, I will be an old woman. I will spread my arms wide to the rain, and remember this night, that I whirled in gusts of rain and came in, glistening.  And hopefully, my husband will be inside, holding the door for me, again, laughing at my silliness, and waiting for me to come to bed.

Putting Down the Burden

Woman with Sticks By Ron Mueck

Putting down a physical burden is not usually too tricky. Some leg bending and such might be required, and sometimes  we need some assistance. Then, hopefully gingerly, but sometimes with a bang!, the burden gets dropped.  Yesterday I picked up a book on natural medicine that I bought some time ago, and it opened right up to the asthma section. It suggested that asthma has it’s root in pain that is suffered alone and unheard, and I realized that yes, I have felt like that almost since I can remember.  I also realized that putting down all I’ve been carrying around needed to be literal for me.  Not having felt heard throughout my life, putting it down would mean literally putting it down on here.  So, today, you are my helper. Today I am going to drop some things in this space that I’ve been carrying a long time.  My focus is not  on the triggering events, as much as what they meant and still mean to me. What I’ve been stuck in more have been my reactions to what came of those circumstances. I don’t mean to blame, and I’m sorry if I am  vague, hopefully this will make sense after I’ve finished writing and you’ve finished reading.  I don’t really know what all is going to come out on here, but one thing is true: I  expect to be lighter by the time I hit “Publish”.

 

Me, around the time of my second birthday

 

When I was four I was sexually abused by my favorite preschool teacher. I remember our assistant teacher walking in, and my teacher asking her to take me to the bathroom. I was so relieved that I would get help, though my gladness to have an ally turned to bewilderment and  then I just resolved myself to it  when I realized she wasn’t doing anything.

I went home grabbed a hand mirror in the bathroom, and looked at myself down there. I was shocked to see a little blood, but also relieved that it wasn’t just all in my head, as I really couldn’t remember much.  I told my mom, and showed her, but she told me I had done it myself. I told her I had checked myself out down there, but that I was already bleeding.  I wanted to say in detail what had happened, but I remember feeling how big and scary that was. So I said something like it’d happened  at school. I’m pretty sure I mentioned my teacher somehow, but obviously, it was too vague. My mom told me to leave myself alone and I’d be fine.

The assistant teacher quit, and then later, my teacher quit. Everyone was surprised they left right in the middle of the school year.  I tried one more time to get my mom to realize what had happened, but again, I was too vague. All I really remembered was coming home with the blood, and the teacher, I didn’t really remember anything else. I assumed it was in my head.  I wondered my whole life what happened, even through several hospitalizations for self-harm. Finally it was after our third child was born that it came to me, in a sweat drenched, sitting up in bed from a dead sleep moment that for once and for all was crystal clear: I had been sexually abused by my teacher. Soon after, I told my parents. They are unable to accept it. I think  they can’t believe it because they’d feel it was their fault, which it wasn’t. They went out of their way to put us in that school because of it’s excellent reputation, and I love them for that.  I hurt though. I still feel like that little girl, under all this age and weight, that can’t make herself be heard and get help, who’s too afraid of what would happen as a result, and yet is resentful to be left alone in her shame and pain and hurting.

Guilt by Lunaea Weatherstone

I want to make clear that I am not interested in blaming.  I know everyone did the best they could, I guess including me. It was what it was. But inside of me is a feeling of suffocation; a desperation that comes from knowing I am suffering and in need help, but am unable to show that to others in a position to help me.

This is mirrored in my daily life. I have had acute asthma all my life, severe enough to be considered disabled by Vocational Rehabilitation.  But what is so weird is I struggle breathing, inside, I am tight and congested, which you can sometimes hear when I breathe deep, but on top, everything sounds fine. I will get so bad I’m taking my nebulizer over and over and getting no relief, but I go to get help, and my pulse ox is fine, and the Dr’s say well I’m not so bad.  ARGGGGHHHHHH!!! I have been struggling this way for years!

I’ve finally made some progress on this. I found a Dr who while she discredited my breathing troubles, saw a real need to me to get my sinuses looked at, and in fact I had a ct scan today. So I am pleased about that. It’s good to have some positive change happening in this area.

I’m just tired of  pain,  hurting myself, and hurting others.  I anger so easily.  I want to be loved, and to love, to go out and live my dreams, to be present and available, to have my kids and friends be close.  But instead, I go about the day, not being able to do much, and resenting everyone who needs me, snapping at my husband and kids loudly,often  taking offense to friends and strangers, which makes me ashamed to admit, and then hating myself for all of it, despising myself for living the opposite of who I am, and then struggling, in spite of it all, to believe that I really am different than how I live.

So there it is.  I’ve been carrying it a long time.  So here I am, needing help putting this huge bundle down, and I’ve been given this space to do it.  I am thankful for this space. I am thankful for all those who have supported me, as I’ve held onto this huge weight. And I am most thankful for all those who have helped me in discovering, and in daring to believe, that under this bundle is God’s child. I feel a little lighter already.

 

 

Of Birthdays and Blessings

Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah,you  say it’s your birth-day! Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah it’s my birthday too, yeah!

Okay, I apologize to both the Beatles and 16 Candles for that! But, as you may have guessed, today is my birthday! I am 39. I can’t wait for cake! lol

I started my birthday a bit unusually today, with a trip to the Emergency Room.  I had a sharp stabbing pain in my side, which the cat scan showed  to be a very small kidney stone.  So after a shot of morphine,  some iv antibiotics, and many birthday wishes from the very kind emergency room staff, I got to come home.

So, I’ve kind of been knocked out today. My girlfriends who usually take me out on my birthday had to go out with out me, but we have a raincheck on some girl time asap! Right now, we’re hoping to go out to dinner with my folks as planned, the whole crew of us.  Normally, I think I may be sort of disappointed.

But, I feel incredibly blessed.   I’ve been struggling a bit, sure. And 14 hours ago I was in terrible pain.  But practicing gratitude really has really been  helping  me, and it’s what has made this as especially meaningful birthday today.

Now, I’m not a believer of discounting upset. From my experience, if things suck, they suck.  I’ve never felt better by trying to pretend they don’t. But, after I’ve allowed myself to feel upset, or whatever I’m feeling,  the belief that some good is to be found in most any situations really helps shift me from feelings of upset  to thoughts of gratitude.

So, I’m going to count my blessings today.  I had a kind and helpful and good hospital staff take care of me.  Thank you so much!  I have the insurance to pay for my visit.  Thank you Steve for working so hard to give us these benefits.  I had a problem that was easily treated, and for that I am so grateful. I know many people in that very hospital today have received some very bad news, and I hold those people in my heart. I have blessed with many birthday wishes from my friends.  I thank you for for your sweet thoughts, you all mean so much to me!  My little kids have drawn me cards and are so excited that it’s my birthday today ( and that there’ll be cake! lol)  My husband just figured out what was leaking from our radiator, saving us hundreds of dollars. Thank you, honey!!! And I have a place to write my thoughts, and a few people even want to read them!  I thank you so much for that, and for sharing my journey with me.

Happy Blessings to you!

Up and Down

(Read from top to bottom, then bottom to top. )

Struggling
to keep my head

up

today.

up and clear

up
reaching

reaching

reaching

from whispers
a  pain that enfolds me like bedding
soft, familiar clinging to my bare skin

where I lay alone

in my thoughts

in my bed

fighting to not fade

all the vibrant voices talking

around me

to me
through me

home.

Fairies, Unicorns, and Angels Wings

“Well now that we have seen each other,” said the Unicorn, “If you believe in me, I’ll believe in you.” -Lewis Carroll

I have had a life-long love of all things magic.  Unicorns were my first love, followed up by  fairies.  Soon as I was able, I started buying unicorns and fairies, and getting them as gifts in return.  One day, years ago, I bought some angels as gifts, and bought one for my self. One turned into two, and then I started receiving them as gifts as well.  Eventually I ended up with a whole magical and heavenly host.

These magical and miraculous  symbols always had places of honor, and attempted safety, in my room. However, after years of fighting overwhelm and depression, their haven has turned into a hellish, mini Hoarder’s type nightmare  with laundry, both dirty and clean everywhere, and everything with a surface covered  in wild disarray, dust, dirt, and shame.

And so, in this state, by one, my favorite angels have broken. My most favorite angel, a  birthday gift from my parents,  lost her wings the day my father in law passed away because I had overstuffed a drawer with sweaters, which made my beloved angel tip when I forcefully shut it.  Another lost it’s wings being knocked over by a child. Many fell from my dresser, which has been  piled with clothes and medicine and old water glasses.  I even started just receiving angels that were already broken.  I started thinking, what the heck is wrong with me that these holy creatures lose their grace just by coming to me? So finally I put my broken angels up on some shelves above our TV, one of them in three pieces, and there they have laid,  protected by a thick layer of dark gray dust.

Last weekend, spurred by my husband folding clothes, and knowing I had no place to put them away ( and hadn’t for an embarrassingly long time) I started cleaning our room.  I started with my dresser, and then moved on to my dressing table, and soon the laundry was bagged and taken to the laundry room.  And in all that mess, I found the third piece of my latest broken angel, the one that was broken in three places.  Then I prayed a prayer I have prayed many times; a prayer for restoration.  I also prayed that we had superglue, which we did, ( hey, even the bible says all our cares and worries are important to God-1Peter 5:7)  and I prayed as I worked to glue the pieces together. At first, I could not get them to stick. Here I had a heart full of faith, I thought, sure I could make this wrong right, and it wasn’t working.  I continued to pray,  thanking Spirit for restoration because I knew it was my truth through Grace. And I thanked God for showing that to me.   I can’t tell you just why, but all I know is that finally, I just felt confident the angel would be whole, and I felt deeply loved, and the wings stuck.  I think I had been trying so hard, but really I just had to accept.  I can’t really describe the feeling of healing and release I felt, seeing this beautiful gift that I had broken through despair and neglect and giving up, becoming once again whole through accepting God’s grace and presence in my life.

Seeing we are more in Spirit and accepting that is the heart of hope, the heart of faith, heck the heart of love.  I don’t think I ever explained why I changed the  name of my blog.  One  day  my neighbor and I were talking, and she told me her mentor had taught her the Greek meaning of the word hope, which is a confident expectancy.  I was so excited, because I had always felt  in my heart that hope was more than a longing. That true hope is knowing the truth, despite the appearances of things. Hope is knowing your truth is meant to be manifest  through Divine Grace and Love. But obviously I had never had the words to succinctly and clearly express it. lol  I  want to affirm the reality  of healing through faith in action,  through grace, and through confident expectancy.   The reality where a broken and lost angel’s wings were found a made whole again,  where a  dirty and wrecked room was recovered, and  a hurting heart found some healing and peace, and magic.

Today’s Daily Word quotes 2 Corinthians 3:17  “Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.” When it comes down to it, what is magic but  the realization  that what seems finite in itself is infinite in it’s truth.  That  joy and creation are limitless when we don’t limit them. And most importantly, it is the realization that when we don’t limit God by basing our thinking on the past, God is limitless,  within us, and waiting to show us just how much we can experience together!

Not a bad series of realizations from a bunch of broken angels. And speaking of which, a few weeks ago, I sat in bed, thinking about my broken angels, and had a realization. I realized my broken angels were there not to tell me that I was hopeless and without grace,which is just the scho of old voices in my head saying I’m not good enough to be happy.  They were there  to remind me that it’s in accepting grace, and showing it to others, that we are mended.  So, I want to thank my magical and angelic guides. And I want to thank those in my life who give so much love to me. And I want to thank Spirit, for giving me wings.

The Red Ball Theory

I rely very heavily on intuition. I actually believe that being ADD has a lot to do with this–I often can’t remember things, so  my intuition fills in the gaps.  It even works for Jeopardy……well,  sometimes.

When I do readings, people often ask me how it all works.    I think of the supernatural and psychic phenomena like this:

Say that from the moment you were born, there was a big, red ball in your house. You see the ball, you touch the ball,but no one, ever says anything about the ball. It’s like they don’t even see it, like it’s not even there. You see the ball, but you have no way to think about it, no one has ever told you what to call it, much less what it is, what it does, or why it’s there. You grow up, and no one ever says a word about it in any way.

The ball is there, but having no words, concepts, or frame of reference for it, it does not become a part of your rational experience. It has ceased to consciously exist for you. When you do bump into it , you don’t know what is going on. You probably think you’re imagining things.  If you get a momentary glimpse of it, it’s shocking, maybe even frightening. I mean, you go along all your life, and then BAM! Something from out of nowhere is in your house! What the heck? Or, you might see things that allude to the physical existence of the ball, like it’s shadow on a particularly sunny day. This too, is unexplainable, because you have no frame of reference for what is causing it.

I think this is what happens with what we call the “supernatural” or “paranormal”. We have a great big world out there, a world that’s more than what our rational minds have any experience with. Because of that, we don’t know how to process what we experience, we often may not even experience it because we have no frame of reference for it.What we can’t make sense of, we  ignore.

So, why do some people experience stuff and not others? Well, I think most of us do experience something. I think many times all it takes is us being open to experiencing it.  For me, I have to overcome self-esteem issues. The old recording in my mind will play “But I’m not good enough!” , and that self-doubt effectively blocks me from experiencing my oneness with Spirit. For some of us,  it takes us experiencing circumstances that push us past our limits for us to see this hidden world. I think others experience this hidden  world so intensely that they can’t ignore it, even when others do. And of course, some people are born into families that see this other dimension of our world, too, so they validate that experience.

So, what’s going on? What is this other world? If you’ve read my blog before, you know I think we straddle two main worlds, our experiences, and our being, the limited, and the limitless. Our Spiritual path is to learn to identify ourselves by our Spiritual truth, rather than by our past limitations. When we do this, we live completely present, at the apex of these two dimensions. So for me, what we call “paranormal” or “supernatural” is really the part of us that is connected to Spirit,the limitless, unbounded, and more vast than we can possibly imagine.

I want to add something that I don’t want to give to much energy to, but I think it’s important  be clear that when I say that I believe that intuition and psychic and healing phenomenon come from Spirit, that that doesn’t mean everyone is using that connection as it is intended, in Divine Love, to heal and guide.   I am very fortunate that I haven’t really had too many negative encounters,thankfully, most people I’ve met with developed abilities are amazing and wonderful people, working to the greater good of God.  But, that’s not always the case.  As with anything, listen to your intuition, which is your connection with Spirit, over someone else’s that isn’t resonating with you.

So, next time you get a funny feeling, or if you’ve have a nagging thought that you’ve been ignoring, listen to it. The more you listen to those thoughts, the more you are growing that connection with Spirit, and the more you can discern Spirit in your life.  While I have had some thrilling experiences connecting with other people, living and dead, in a way I never thought I could, the biggest thrill of all is that by doing so, I’m growing myself in Spirit, letting myself be directed by that bigger part of me, and that’s a gift I never want to return, and that I always hope to see in my life.

Photocredit to our 15 yr old, Mikey, for this beautiful picture of a Florida sunset.

Spiritual Discipline

Discipline.  For me, the word conjures up images of  tan, firm-bodied people who run every day and eat carefully (shades of my sister) , or of children going without video games because they didn’t do chores (shades of my children). It also brings up a feeling of shame, because I’m very undisciplined.

According to The Free Dictionary , discipline can be defined as the folowing:

dis·ci·pline

// <![CDATA[// (ds-pln)

n.

1. Training expected to produce a specific character or pattern of behavior, especially training that produces moral or mental improvement.

2. Controlled behavior resulting from disciplinary training; self-control.

3.

a. Control obtained by enforcing compliance or order.

b. A systematic method to obtain obedience: a military discipline.

c. A state of order based on submission to rules and authority: a teacher who demanded discipline in the classroom.

4. Punishment intended to correct or train.

5. A set of rules or methods, as those regulating the practice of a church or monastic order.

6. A branch of knowledge or teaching.

tr.v. dis·ci·plined, dis·ci·plin·ing, dis·ci·plines

1. To train by instruction and practice, especially to teach self-control to.

2. To teach to obey rules or accept authority. See Synonyms at teach.

3. To punish in order to gain control or enforce obedience. See Synonyms at punish.

4. To impose order on: needed to discipline their study habits.

I have never been very disciplined.  Most of my life I have struggled with   procrastination, impulse control, and lack of focus. Of course, as an adult with ADD, these things are understandable. But as much relief as the label gave me ( you mean I’m not bad? I have a real condition?!!) it lacks for any spiritual explanation as to what is going on in me that I’ve struggled so much with overwhelm.

Enter what some still call New Age thinking, where I am considered an Indigo or Star child.  There are all sorts of great descriptions ( mostly) of enlightened alien beings with psychic powers, coming to earth to help it evolve to a more peaceful and loving planet.  It all sounds great, and it’s possibly true. But I’m still left wondering, when just daily life seems overwhelming and I’m hard-pressed to say no to simple distractions, what is going on with me, and how can I get past this?

I spent yesterday evening with a palpable longing, almost a sense of forbidden desire. After allowing my feelings on desire and temptation last night in the form of writing a poem ( see Midnight River) , I found myself dreaming all night about giving in to most every temptation that presented itself. I woke up feeling wrong, and the dream  stayed with me.  I knew that succumbing to temptation leads me  to dissatisfaction,  shame and difficult consequences.  I’ve lived those consequences much of my life, heck, every day.

There’s a lot a variation as to how to define the word Discipline, but what all of the definitions seem to have in common is the element of control. Discipline means control. No wonder some of us seem to run from it, while others love it.

This control seems aligned with the adherence to certain desired results, or principles.  So maybe I need to go to what seems to me the heart of the word discipline, which is disciple.

dis·ci·ple

// <![CDATA[// (d-spl)

n.

1.

a. One who embraces and assists in spreading the teachings of another.

b. An active adherent, as of a movement or philosophy.

2. often Disciple One of the original followers of Jesus.

3. Disciple A member of the Disciples of Christ.

---

[Middle English, from Old English discipul and from Old French desciple, both from Latin discipulus, pupil, from discere, to learn; see dek- in Indo-European roots.]

Discipleship implies to things to me, a set of beliefs, and a devotion to those beliefs. So to live being disciplined means I am devoted to a certain set of beliefs.  Though the definition of disciple innately brings  organized religion to mind, it’s not so much about religion as a set of confirmed beliefs. Everyone has a set of beliefs that they adhere to. So really, I am disciplined!   Great! But of course, that’s nonsense, right? I can’t even take my medicine as prescribed or get myself to do the laundry. Because what matters is what beliefs we are devoted to. So then we have think, where are our beliefs coming from?

For most of us, our beliefs originate with our experience. If you have read this blog before, you probably know what I’m thinking right now! lol You know that I believe that we, as humans, straddle two worlds, the finite world of experience, and the world of being, and that our spiritual truth lay in journeying towards being completely present, thus living the unification of the two worlds and our own truth.

So, what does that have to do with spiritual discipline? Well, it occurred to me, this morning that lacking Spiritual Discipline means we are anchored in the world of experience, rather than the world of Being, the world of our personal truth. We are lost in the  pain and fear we’ve experienced, which keeps us from experiencing the truth of our being, and so we try to counter act that with things we know from our experience that make the pain and fear take a back seat.  I think that’s where this wanting feeling comes from in me.  I want so badly to heal myself in a way I know,  instead of surrendering to Divine Love/My highest Self, which takes faith in myself and my ability to even connect with something so wonderful, and forgiveness, and self acceptance, which are often challenging for me to embrace within myself.

So, how do I, purply-blue ADD alien woman that I am, start living with Spiritual discipline? I guess the answer is not very mystical. I need keep  growing my moments of  just being, what I call ( and possibly someone else did first, no idea) joyful moments. Taking joy and pleasure in simple things, as much as I can. I’m also in the process of setting up a meditation teacher, which I am really excited about.  The answer is also maybe a bit trite sounding ( and also one of my old TV shows growing up)– that I just need to take it moment by moment, one day at a time.

Midnight River

Hunching in the dark, behind the smooth sweeping street,

you  shine  in moon bright headlights

behind a thick guard of trees.

I come closer and hear you pushing, rushing,

I’m startled at the strength of your song,

I can almost feel your current running along my hands

Pressing through the night, loud with cars swarming out of the packed lot.

I want to escape,

feel your silver on my feet,

rising slowly up my legs, around my waist,

the wild rushing around me, alone, drenched in moonlight.

I hear my name, the car start, see them waiting,

As we drive past, I look one last time past the forest wall

hearing your silver secrets spilt all night long

in my thicket of sleep.

Coming Home

To see a world in a grain of sand, And a heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour.

My family and I just came back from our first beach vacation together. We went to a lovely place in Clearwater Florida called Royal North Beach that I will shamelessly plug here. Lovely people, lovely and affordable condos, and they provide all the beach things you could need down to the sunscreen, movies and books to borrow! Okay, plug over.

But the whole time I was in Florida, that little bit from the Augeries of Innocence (  also known as Laura Croft’s Poem) ran through my mind. (And in the interest of being totally authentic, I will share that til today I never knew about more than the Laura Croft bit, lol. ) I  wrote part of it in sand on the beach, and watch it get lapped up thoroughly  by the tides, like our kitties do when I give them the good stuff, cream.

Though I’m a Midwestern girl who has had some pretty serious  sharkaphobia, ( known as selachophobia to psychiatrists and Trivial Pursuit fans)  I’ve always had a thing for moving water. I  am drawn to fire, true, but nothing relaxes me and brings me completely present like water in motion.   I have been to Florida twice as a child, and  then two years ago I went to Florida with my folks  to help them with some family business.  Since that trip, I’ve been longing to return to the sea with my whole family.  At last, the time was right, and this trip came together in such a way that I knew we were meant to go.

Steve and I both often have a hard time going to sleep, and on a whim, I bought an ocean waves cd at the Dollar Tree ( enter second plug, I promise I’m not getting paid by anybody!) Well, it worked like a charm, that is until it died of overuse. Best buck we’ve ever spent, I think. Anyway, it died, and I knew I needed, we needed, the real deal. I had a dream of the ocean in January, woke up, told my folks we should take a family trip to Florida, and a day later I’d booked a trip for ten to Clearwater! Me, who has never done more than book a table at a restaurant, and then not often because almost no restaurant in our city takes reservations. It was meant to be.

I was just breathless with the beauty of Florida.  Of course,  the  Midwest  is really beautiful. But it seems like sometimes we have to get some distance to appreciate what is always in front of our faces.  Just as I took a child-like delight in every gecko, palm tree and tropical plant I saw, I am sure tourists of our fair city from afar ( and people from all over do travel to our little city) delight over the squirrels, oaks and wild mustard we have here.

The thing I really wanted to do, with the help of the ocean, was to let go.  It seems to me that my struggles all come from living my past every day, and not having enough room left in my present to really live it for all it’s worth.  The pulling and pressing of salt and water combine to make such a magic as to wash and purify even the most tumultuous of hearts and minds. As my husband said, it’s no wonder that in the past, people were sent to the sea to recover from illness. I also felt called to take things to the sea for a couple of friends,  which resulted in  a very powerful and beautiful experience.

For me, I think the heart of my surrender happened in the trust that was required of me, and my husband, to make the journey. Trust it would all work out, that we would all be safe, in the air and the sea. Putting everyone I love most all in one place, and trusting that not only they would be safe, but have a joyful and amazing experience themselves.

How amazing that changing our surroundings changes our thinking and feeling. What a gift it is to see without our past acting as a filter. And how empowering it is to stretch past what is comfortable, believing in your truth over what you have experienced.

William Blake talked a lot about the power of faith and trust in The Augeries of Innocence:

“He who doubts from what he sees
Will ne’er believe, do what you please.
If the sun and moon should doubt,
They’d immediately go out.”

In the UK, people refer to vacation as a holiday. Holiday comes from Holy Day, when people didn’t work so they could worship.  It seems to me that holiday is a better word for our summer trip, at least, because it’s name implies a s space of sacredness. And within each of us is that sacred space, the truth of us that is connected to the Divine. Connecting with it is the ultimate homecoming.

So, this week I ask, what’s your ocean, and where’s your Florida, your time away to partake in the sacred? Change your scenery to change your view, step away to come home. Let go of what’s keeping you from seeing and living all the beauty and joy of the hour, and  return to that  sacred space within yourself.  Blessings to you,  happy holiday, everyone, and welcome home.