I Dream of Spaceships

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This morning I dreamed that a spaceship landed in the center square of my small town.  Small town, gigantic square.  The thing was a humungous round white disc the size of a small city that glowed a brilliant luminous light as it came in for a landing.  Once down, it just sat there in a silent ethereal midst, beaming light in all directions throughout the entire town.  Then I woke up.  Darn.  I wanted more.

I love dreams like that.  They get my brain in gear thinking about the great never-ending mystery of life that has intrigued humankind since forever.  Who are we?  Where did we come from?  Is there life on other planets?  Are we alone in the universe?  Have I been here before?  Where are we going, and where do I fit into the equation?  So many questions, so few answers.

Though I am not a big student of the Bible, the great ship-landing event of my dreams triggered memories from my early Christian training of the rapture, and I started to wonder about the evacuation of the faithful to realms unknown and the return  of the Christ.  Now, there’s a mystery, if ever there was one.

Imagination runs rampant and I wonder about the return of the Christ.  When will He appear, and how?  I am intrigued by a merry round of possibility—will the Coming One return via spaceship?  Will He come alone, or with a cadre of disciples who will go before Him to make smooth His way?  Will He be physical or etheric?  Will he appear as the Christ to me, or as Mohammed or Buddha to others?  Will he speak every language?  Appear on worldwide television?  Might He make a personal appearance in my living room?  If he did, would I stand in delight or collapse in fright?

Ah ha!  Suddenly, I get it!  Clearly, I realize that all questions pale in comparison to the last one, the most important of all.  My dream is a wake-up call to remind me that when there comes a day when I meet face to face with The Coming One, I want to know that I have done everything humanly possible to be ready, to be worthy of the great honor of being in His presence.

Suddenly, a life review of my behavior during the pandemic seems appropriate.  It is a mini reflection of my life as a whole.  How am I doing?  Have there been any changes in my behavior?  Any improvements or backsliding, or stuck points?  Can I congratulate myself for chugging on with my daily blog-writing mission and forgive myself for lack of exercise and mindless eating??  Can I observe myself without judgment?  Can I resolve to take whatever steps I must to improve, however tiny those steps may be?  Bring it on!  Whatever it is, I want to see it, and I want to correct it while I still have the time.  I want a seat on the spaceship.

Those of us who are on a mission to get reservations on the ship are the warriors of light.  We are the ones who are fighting the good fight against the dark forces.  Our light is excavating evil hiding in the dark, and we are winning.  We know this with absolute certainty because what has been lurking beneath the surface for eons has now been ferreted out by the brilliance of our light for all to see, and it is ugly.  This is good news. 

Every single person on the planet who seeks to discover and embody the best within carries a bright light, and that light, when joined with others becomes the torch that blazes the path to a new world, a new age, a new era.  Every light makes a difference, and the most important one of all is yours.

Keep your eye upon the donut and not upon the hole, keep the faith, and watch for signs of The Coming One, however He may appear.  What a wondrous mystery.

 

Life in the Learning Lane

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This morning, I started the coffee, nuked the creamer, zipped out to do a few quick errands around the building, and when I returned, the house was filled with the sweet aroma of charred caramel macchiato.  Oops—that’s what adding an extra zero to the timer will do for you.  Absentmindedness has found a new home in my head.  I trust that it is merely a temporary condition that will vacate when the corona virus does.  Where has my  mind gone?

Phone calls go unreturned for a day or so, unanswered emails clog up my inbox, daily walks are put off until the tomorrow that never seems to come, birthdays are acknowledged late or not at all–well, you get the idea.  Maybe it’s just a matter of keeping my own company for too long, or a lack of outside mental stimulation.  Whatever it is, it needs a bit of remediation.

What is wrong with this picture?  Have I put the emPHAsis on the wrong syllable?

I know that I have committed myself to writing a daily blog for a reason.  Why?  Apparently, there are still things that I must learn, and this experience is a powerful teacher, a mirror reflection of my inner state of being.  Can I keep up?  Is there life outside of the classroom?  Can I balance my studies with life, juggle responsibilities, and still get a little down time and enough sleep?   Clearly, I’m a beginner in a graduate course.

It is safe to say that the care and feeding of my baby blog has become almost a full- time job.  Like a child, it requires time, energy, sleepless nights, and a lot of nurturing.  There are bloggers who have hundreds, or thousands of followers and I wonder how they manage when I struggle to look after my one small infant.  Do they have any other life, these successful bloggers?  They must have found the balance that I have lost.

Writing my early occasional blogs was like having a pet.  Write it, walk away for a while, come back, feed it, give it a little attentionLif, and return at my leisure.  A daily blog, on the other hand, is like having twins.  The pressure is on, the days never end, and nothing much ever gets done.  It’s like taking on a double major.

I wonder—when I learn whatever it is that I enrolled for, will I be allowed to downsize back to occasional?  I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.  Meanwhile, maybe I’ll start thinking about why I enrolled in the first place and just get on with it.

Today, writing is the easy part.  Next, I face an added challenge in the mix, Facebook and WordPress are both forcing me to learn anew thanks to technology changes.  Really?  Do I have to?  Is this in the curriculum?  No wonder my poor addled brain is tangling with forgetfulness and absentmindedness.  Well, I guess that dealing with technology is a lot easier than having to write by candlelight with a quill pen like poor Jane Austin.  All those revisions and rewrites?  Heaven help her!

If this is the worst problem that I ever have to face, aren’t I beyond blessed?   We all show up in our classroom with a personalized agenda.  Our lessons come in a myriad of forms, with an equal plethora of forms available to help us.  Some lessons seem a whole lot harder than others, but we never get more than we can handle.  If we will just ask for it, recognize it when it shows up, and reach out a hand, we will be given all the help we need to move up to the next grade.  The first step is to wake up and realize that we are all students enrolled in the same school, instructed by the same wise teacher who knows what is best for us—the soul.  The greater the love and support that we give to one another along the way, the faster we will earn our masters degree.  Godspeed to all.

Note:  The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us

Go with the Flow

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Uh oh—it’s 9:00 a.m. and I haven’t even started today’s blog.  In a perfect world, the publish button would have been pushed by now, but hey—who said anything about a perfect world?

I’ve been fishing around hoping to catch a little inspiration, but sometimes those fish just aren’t interested in offering themselves up as food.  Sometimes inspiration strikes as I read the posts of other bloggers and sometimes, I just get lost in their insights, awareness, and stories.  Today was one of those days.  Their inspiration inspires me.

The Inside Scoop, a newsletter that I write for my condo building, is due today—well, maybe it’s more of a half-blog-half news sort of a thing.  That means that today is a two-publication day.  Double the pressure, double the fun.   There is not much juicy stuff to fill a two-page newsletter during a pandemic, so sometimes I have to fish for inspiration for content for that as well.   Once in a while, the thing becomes a cross between a make-it-up-as-I-go venture, and a rambling stream of consciousness thing.  The folks seem to enjoy it though—at least they haven’t fired me yet.  Maybe that’s because there’s no one else willing to do the job for free.

Inspiration is an elusive sort of thing.  Sometimes it just presents itself as a welcome gift, sometimes it doesn’t.  Why is that, I wonder?  Oh, I know it’s in there somewhere, but why is it that on some days it is easily accessible, and other days not?  Have I become so stuck in a rigid writing routine that I’m afraid that relaxation will knock me off balance and out of control?  Am I in even in control in the first place?   As for the balance question—well, maybe it’s best just not to go there.

I used to gather inspiration from a simple walk in the neighborhood.  An encounter with a squirrel could elicit a range of emotion starting with pure joy and happiness then morph into rage and anger in the space of twenty seconds.  Finding a wasp walking around inside my purse could bring about both fear and relief in less than fifteen.  A blister on my heel, a piece of chewing gum stuck on the side of my shoe—who gets gum stuck on the side of a shoe?  Inspiration in unlikely places, all grist for the mill, all an opportunity to take tiny little nuggets of life and seek to find within them something amusing and/or meaningful.

Those musings of many years ago eventually morphed into a book that became the birthday gift dedicated and presented to my mother in honor of her 100th birthday.  It was a joyous moment for her, and for me.  But that’s another story in itself.

Maybe I need to get out more.  Maybe the pandemic has left me bereft of the external stimulation that I need to get the creative juices flowing.  As I sit tapping my fingers on the arm of my chair in both anticipation and anticipation, the light dawns.  There’s nothing external about it.  It’s an inside job.  Like the Scoop, I can go with the flow and make it up as we go.

There is nothing that I need that I do not already have.  It is all hiding within the recesses of my very own being, waiting to be discovered, waiting to be released out into the world.  The keys to unlocking the door are faith and gratitude, but those are subjects for another time.  Until then, may your day be inspired, may you have faith to know that all of your needs are met, and may your heart be filled with gratitude for that you have and for that which is yet to be.

Note:  The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us).

In Search of Good News

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I’m on a serious quest to find good news.  What with the horrendous death of George Floyd and the ensuing circumstances, plus the pandemic, the depressing politic scene, scary economics to name but a few, we need all the good news that we can get.

I admit to having a full-blown Pollyanna mentality.  I admit that I really do not want to see anything that hurts my heart.  I also admit that there is plenty of news out there that I really, really do not want to acknowledge.  I readily confess to employing the head-in-the-sand trick when something ugly rears its head.  Yes, I know it’s there.  Just don’t show it to me.  They don’t call me the rainbow unicorn for nothing.  So no.  Don’t show me.

Somehow, the news always manages to find a way to seek me out in spite of the fact that my head is stuck in the sand.  This morning it was my iPad that bore the news of protesters spreading social unrest across our nation in reaction to George Floyd’s death.  This unavoidable troubling news shows up in our lives even without benefit of a TV, and like it or not, it floods the consciousness of every single being on the planet whether we realize it or not.  It’s in the noosphere.  But enough said about that because bad news is not good for us.  The less focus on it, the better.

Today on Facebook, I found a heartwarming little tidbit of light shining through the darkness, a bit that perhaps in some tiny measure may remind us that in spite of the overwhelming focus on negativity, there is goodness still alive and well within the heart and soul of humanity.

This morning my quest for good news led me to a photo from Facebook of a Tarrant police officer, William Stacy.  The caption brought a tear to my eye.

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This woman stole 5 eggs to feed her children.  Instead of arresting her, Officer Stacy bought her a truckload of groceries.

Ahh.  Finally, some good news to add a bit of balance to the ugly.  I wish there were a scale on which we could weigh the balance  of good news and bad.  I wish that we could have proof positive and know for certain that good is winning.

When I look at the photo of the man responsible for the death of George Floyd, I see the face of a troubled, haunted man and it makes me wonder what would drive a person to be capable of such behavior.  I cannot imagine what that possibly might be, yet I find myself overwhelmed with a sense of compassion.  There but for the grace of God go I.

There are things that we cannot know, save what drives our own behavior, and even that sometimes remains a mystery.

I know that if I do not like what I see, I can choose another way to look at it.  I know that I can decide how I feel about something, and that my decision will have an impact not just on myself, but also others as well.  I know that I am responsible for my own thoughts and actions.  I know that I am the one who makes the choice about what I want and what I don’t.  And I am the one who recognizes the profound impact of every choice and decision that I make.

The heart of humanity embraces the individual heart of every person on the planet.  Within that heart beats kindness, love, and compassion, ever present if we will but seek to find it.  Individually and collectively, we hold the power to tip the balance in favor of light and goodness.  Seek and ye shall find.

Note:  The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us).

Come Fly With Me

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Well lucky me—today is another day of practicing the art of loving what I hate.  Yep—I’m off to the dentist again. (here)  This time it’s the periodontist, where receiving a very expensive and painful diagnosis is a real possibility.  Off into the fearful unknown I go again.  I’ve promised myself that I’ll put the anticipatory hand-wringing ritual off until I get in the car.  Oh wait—I think I promised myself that I wouldn’t do that anymore.  Did I lie?

Yesterday I freaked out over being late for a doctors appointment and stressed myself into an attack of atrial fibrillation.  A minor personal issue, and yet fear strikes again, and stress has an impact on my health.  If a minor incident like being late can produce enough stress to cause a health glitch, just imagine what a major issue might churn out.

Big pharma and the media are heavily invested in hypnotizing us into watching the news. First, the media scares us to death with bad news, then the drug companies swoop in to sell us the drugs we need to fix the problems that the media has produced by filling our heads with so much fear.  For the media and big pharma, it’s a winning combination.  For you and me?  Not so much.  It pays to sell bad news.

Why are we so attracted to bad news?  Why do we glue ourselves to a TV screen and allow ourselves to be bombarded day after day with hideous negativity?  Why have we turned our power over to the media?  Why are we not like a firefly that is attracted to the light instead?

What will it take to wake us up and get us to change the channel?

Fear is fear, no matter the size, shape or scope.  Regardless of form, whether it is a personal issue like going to the dentist, or an issue that presents itself on the world stage, or a vague, unsettling fear of the unknown, it is still fear.  Regardless of cause, it has an impact.  I can wring my hands over dental visits or thoughts of the world as I know it coming to an end, but truly, what good will it do?  What benefit do I bring to myself or to my world if I allow fear to take over and run my life?  What drugs will I need that will fix me?

That’s quite enough fear for one day, I think.  Or for one lifetime, for that matter.  It’s time to change to the good news channel of hope.  If I were a member of the media, here is the first bit of good news that I would report: we are not broken.  We do not need to be fixed.  We need only allow ourselves the luxury of a change of mind.

If I had the power to give just one gift to you, my brothers and sisters of humanity, it would be the gift of the ability to replace fear with the faith that would fill you with the knowledge that beyond what appears dark and hopeless, there lies a world of truth, beauty, and goodness.

In the very depths of my being, I believe that this is so.  There are millions more like me in the world who are standing strong in the storm, holding a safe space for others to follow with hands outstretched to help those who seek their way into the light.  Have faith my friends.  Together, we can weather this storm and overcome the darkness.  If faith is too difficult for you to muster on your own, grab a hand, hold on tight, and be lifted into a New Heaven and New Earth on wings of love and light.

The Temple of the Soul

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How many times have you found yourself hanging out in your closet wondering what to wear?  How often have you risked catching a cold with in your head stuck in the fridge wondering what’s for dinner?  Since my daily blogging adventure began, a new what question has been added to my list.  What shall I write today?  Have pity on me.

Uh oh—it looks as if today might be shaping up to be one of those soul-searching kind of days, so if you’re not into that sort of thing, now might be a good time to bail out before it’s too late.  But if you have the stomach for it, read on.  You never know what’s coming, but we’ll find out together.

My morning writing routine usually begins with a paragraph that just shows up all by itself, then leaves me wondering where to go next.  I fidget for a while, doing my best to fend off the inevitable distractions—pitchers that fall off of bookshelves, (here) fingernails that need attention, self-questioning that leads to the search for purpose and meaning.  Why am I doing this?  Is anyone listening?  How long must I continue?  Is this a spirit-directed thing or is it ego driven?  Or both?

Sometimes while in the midst of all of this mental fidgeting, the really heavy-duty questions typical of a serious, spiritually-oriented soul searcher pop up.  Who am I?  Why am I here?  What is my purpose?

Uh oh.  Now I’m stuck.  Writer’s block strikes again.  Today is high up on the where-to-go-next list.  Perhaps it’s time for a little chat with myself.  My Self.

Have I choked off the flow?

No, you are just not open to it.  You have momentarily decided that there is no flow, or that if there is, you are not privy to tit.

Or right.  Silly me.  Cut myself off again.  I need a haircut.  Me and the rest of the world.  There I go again with the distractions.  Typical.

The problem today is that you have momentarily lost sight of your purpose for writing a daily blog.  In addition to that, you have not taken enough time to go within yourself to be still, and thus you have also lost touch with the source of your creativity.

Yes, I have.  Lost it.

There is a difference between writing daily and writing a blogDaily assumes that you are writing for yourself, in a personal journal, for example.  A blog will be seen by other eyes which then begs the question, who are you writing for and why are you writing?  What is the purpose?

You are writing for you.  It helps you to see clearly, sort through personal issues, find solutions, reconnect with your source, be refueled, rejuvenated, restored.  It returns you to the stability of the soul and rescues you from the clutches of the ego.  You need only become proficient in distinguishing between your writings that are private and personal for your eyes only, and those which are for other eyes.

If there is benefit to you, there will be benefit for others as well, so in that sense, you are writing both for yourself and for others.  Again we remind you that your task is simply to write, to be a messenger.  What happens from there should be of no concern.

Ahh.  Thank you for reminding me.  It is through writing that I am returned home to the temple of the soul.  What a blessed relief.

Note:  The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us).

The Pitcher and the Pandemic

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This morning I shocked myself awake by catching an unexpected glimpse of myself in the mirror.  Good Lord I look like the wild woman of Borneo.  Thanks, pandemic.  That picture brought to mind an image of a swinging vine, and the memory of a failed bar with the same name that my inexperienced, entrepreneurial husband swore would make him rich, which then conjured up a picture of wild-woman me swinging on a vine high amidst the trees in the jungle.

In the space between flushing a toilet and walking away, I took myself on a no-cost tour of the jungles of Borneo and enjoyed a sky-high swinging vine excursion in the process.   Wow. What a trip—all in less than five seconds, and I never even had to leave home to enjoy it.  Isn’t the mind amazing?

I thought I knew where this morning’s writing adventure might be going, but then a funny thing happened.  While sitting peacefully in my Lazygirl minding my own business, the silence was shattered by the sound of a large ceramic pitcher crashing down from a bookshelf and smashing to smithereens on the hardwood floor.  Books that had been sitting in the same place for many months suddenly fell over of their own accord and that was the end of the pitcher.

This sudden unexpected turn of events leaves me in a bit of a quandary.  Where do I go from here?  So many options.  I could just forget it and return to my original writing thoughts.  Or I could shift gears and launch off on a tear about whodunit and why, or chalk it off as a freaky accident, or question the possibility of whether I might have just touched a nerve of a dearly departed ex-husband, or whether or not it’s feasible to even consider such possibilities.

It brings to mind the recollection of other strange happenings—a notebook fell from a top shelf twice, potholders monogrammed with my mother’s initials were mysteriously displaced from a hook while I was not at home, a small picture of the Charles Bridge in Prague purchased when my mother and I visited there fell over twice, pots and pans turned themselves around in a cupboard so that their handles faced backwards; is someone or something trying to tell me something?  Could it have been my mother telling me that she wanted me to move?  She didn’t like my neighborhood.  She didn’t think it was safe.  Nine years have passed since I moved, and there have not been any odd occurrences since.  Until today.

So what just happened?  I have no idea, but it certainly makes me wonder.  Am I missing something?  Is there some “reality” that I know nothing about?  It makes me think about life after life, and about how the life that I live while here on this earth might influence the life that I have after I take my last breath.  It makes me want to try harder to do the best that I can while I am still here so that I will be able to live in a safe neighborhood when it’s time to move on.  It reinforces my desire to get it right.

Why does anything happen?  Who knows?  But there is always a reason, if only just to stop us in our tracks for a minute and make us think.  The pitcher and the pandemic—the perfect duo specifically tailored to help me learn a thing or two.  Now all I have to do is figure out what.

I think I’ll go comb my hair, swing on a vine, and think about it for a while.

Note:  The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us).