Solar Power

Every once in a while I drift off into a fanciful, imaginary world in which I am the Sun. 

Here I am, my Sun Self, just hanging out in a state of eternal being, shining My light on every single life form on Planet Earth. Every creature, in every kingdom on Planet Earth, in every dark corner of the globe receives the benefit of my Divine Light in equal shares—the insects, plants, animals and all of humanity; the young, the old, the rich, poor, believers, nonbelievers, the good, the evil. Some embrace it, some reject it. Some revel, flourish and grow in it; yet others shrink from it.  

Many are fearful of what they may see and close Me out by retreating into a space of false security; they hide from the darkness behind a door of denial to protect themselves from fear of the unknown; they pull down the shades and sit in the dark, terrified of what might be revealed that they do not wish to see. Others turn on the artificial light of the ego and believe that what they see in the darkness is real. 

My light hides in plain view, clearly visible to some, completely obscured to others. Oh yes, there are often clouds, but to the awakened and wise, clouds are only a veil behind which the Truth abides. Nothing can hide the eternal light that blazes forth from behind illusion; it is ever available to those who seek. 

Every being on the planet, every single life form, is entitled to an equal share of life-sustaining light. It is a freely given gift to all, but accepted by only the few souls courageous enough to turn away from the darkness and seek the light within. 

It saddens me to the core of My being to think that so many choose to suffer in the dark rather than to open wide the window of their souls to let Me in and experience the beauty inherent within their own being. But alas, there is nothing to do but wait until the darkness causes so such suffering that a willingness to face the light creeps in to encourage a change of heart. When that moment arrives, I rejoice, for my purpose is accomplished and I stand ready to bless and heal with the eternal warmth of My loving rays.

I blink and my illusionary fantasy ends, and I see through a different set of very compassionate eyes.

As I awaken from my imaginary incarnation as the Sun, my focus shifts and my heart hurts. I think about how Christ might feel when I and others like me choose to hide from the light that He shines upon us. It makes me want to bow down before Him and beg forgiveness for my ignorance. But in Truth, I doubt that the Christ would want my forgiveness. I suspect that He would much rather have me wake up and fully embrace the Light that He so freely gives. Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do. May they see the light within and rejoice, for it is glorious in My sight.

May I flip the switch, convert Solar Power into Soul Power, and be glorious in His sight.

To add greater light to your life, visit A Tree of Light (http://atreeoflight.org/community).

Whispers and Shouts

Uh oh—I’ve caught myself red-handed in the act of doing it again. I succumbed to the avoidance of all things unpleasant by escaping into Netflix instead of doing something worthwhile with myself, like picking up a book or a pen, or helping a friend in need. Darn. Is that because there is so much unpleasantry swirling around these days that I’m desperate for an escape route to help block out the misery? Well, at least I haven’t sunk low enough to get caught up in watching a continuing plethora of depressing news. Thank goodness for that

A blog by Donna Guillemette, Learning Discernment – A Crucial Skill, inspired me to stop and look at my recent failure and listen to my inner guidance. It’s hard to listen to my gut with headphones blaring external noise in my ears. There is a Voice in my head that says, “This isn’t the best use of your time.” Right. I know that. But I ignore it and turn up the volume on the headphones. I guess I’ll just keep on avoiding until I can’t stand it any more, or until I can no longer abide the idea that I’m wasting precious time on something that serves only to help me stay asleep. But still—who can blame anybody these days for wanting to do whatever it takes to avoid the ugliness going on in the world?

How many escape routes exist for our avoidance pleasure? Hmm—let me count the ways. Movies, addictive TV series, reading, food, partying, smoking, thumb sucking/space staring (my personal favorites), hobbies of all sorts, alcohol, drugs, gardening, exercising—you name it. There really isn’t any activity, no matter how apparently healthy or unhealthy, that cannot be used as an escape mechanism. Trust me, I know. I’ve employed darned near all of them throughout my decades on the planet. Oh—except physical things that risk bodily harm, like scuba diving, mountain climbing, parachuting, and hang gliding. I never said anything about not being a coward.

To quote a friend, “Anything worth doing is worth overdoing”. But when the “doing” reaches a level of becoming harmful to body, mind or spirit, it is time to wake up and listen to the whispers. My spirit is crying out for liberation from headphones and asks instead that I listen to the oh-so-trusty and reliable Voice in my head that speaks Truth in my ears. The whispers invite me to turn off Netflix, put down the remote, turn on the computer, and start writing again. My faithful Voice never scolds, admonishes, judges or threatens. It lovingly suggests. How I respond is up to me.

Today I finally decided to listen. This is the first blog that I have written in nearly two months. Why? Because I was in pause mode, wondering what I could possibly have to say that is new, different, or better than what anyone else has already said, or who knows more, or is more experienced, wiser, or smarter than I am. With libraries filled with thousands of volumes on the same subject, why bother? What I have to say hasn’t already been said hundreds of times before? 

Again, my true-blue Voice speaks up and suggests that there are others who feel the same way I do, and would be comforted by knowing that they are not alone. As I exchange my TV remote for my computer mouse and write my Truth, perhaps others may find their way past what they believe is true in the world, and into the awareness that the only Truth that exists lies within the sanctity of their own soul.

Running away into the fake shelter that hides behind a TV screen does not provide the peace, happiness, and joy that can only be found within the quiet comfort of the soul. That sense of connectedness with my Self comes only when I step out from behind the screen and acknowledge that I need something more. I need to find my soul, and do whatever it takes to get myself back to the Truth within. Sometimes “whatever it takes” can be the start of a long inner journey that may seem daunting; it takes great courage and determination to set foot upon the path of personal growth, but the end result is worth the trip because a contented soul is the ultimate reward. 

The following quote from Facebook (apologies to the unknown author for lack of acknowledgement) says it all: “I am not a body, I am not this skin. I am the soul that lives within.”

The journey to the soul gives new meaning to the phrase, “Wake up and smell the roses.” As each new soul awakens, a new petal of the rose unfolds and the world becomes a more beautiful place for all. 

The world is awaiting the call of your soul. Please listen to the whispers, wake up, and bloom into the beautiful Self that you truly are. There is a galaxy of souls cheering you on and supporting you on your journey.

A sanctuary for my soul is A Tree of Light http://atreeoflight.org, and your soul might enjoy a browse through my soul-searching book, Voices: Who’s in Charge of the Committee in my Head? available on Amazon.

Tests, Trials and Tee Shirts

While searching through the morass of my computer files, I accidentally stumbled across a piece of writing that I did in 2005 BC (before Covid). Having come upon it again, I just couldn’t resist passing it on.

The scenario: It’s 11:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning in the busy Men’s Furnishings Department at Nordstrom. Customers are milling about waiting to be helped.  The phone rings, I answer. Big Mistake. A woman starts in . . . (I give you HER end of the conversation only). Note: All caps indicates that she’s screaming.

FINALLY!  Somebody answered the phone.

Do you still carry the Nordstrom tee shirts that are made in Canada?

That’s NOT what I asked.  Can you go check?

What other brands do you carry?

Where are they made?

Are they combed cotton?

What else do you have?

What is Underarmor?

Are they thinner than the Nordstrom?

Read me the label.

What do you mean, microfiber?

Read me the part about breathability again.

What size is medium?

What size is large?

Is the Nordstrom thinner than the Calvin Klein?

Can you wait while I go get one to see what size I have?

Can you wait while I try it on to see if it fits?

NO!  I CAN’T WAIT WHILE YOU ANSWER ANOTHER PHONE.  I’VE BEEN TRYING TO GET THIS DONE FOR TWO DAYS AND NOBODY COULD DO IT YESTERDAY BECAUSE THEY WERE TOO BUSY.  I DON’T WANT TO WAIT WHILE YOU TALK WITH SOMEBODY ELSE ON THE PHONE.  I JUST WANT TO GET THIS DONE SO I CAN GET ON WITH ANOTHER PROJECT.

Are the Calvin Klein’s thinner than the Nordstrom?

Okay, I’ll take a package of the medium Nordstorm. 

BUT LISTEN.  THIS IS IMPORTANT.

Do NOT send me the package you scanned.  You’ll have to scan one, then send me one that hasn’t been scanned because I can’t have anything that’s been scanned around me.

How do you ship them?  

What service do you use?

Do NOT send it by mail.  It has to be shipped, not mailed.

How long will it take?

Why will it take so long?  Last time they came in a day.

How much is shipping?

Why is it so much?  Last time it was only $3.00. Why is it so expensive?  I don’t want to pay more than $3.00 because that’s what I paid the last time.

What is the total?

NO.  I WANT TO KNOW NOW.  I CAN’T WAIT FOR YOU TO CALL ME BACK.  I JUST WANT TO GET THIS DONE SO I CAN GO ON TO ANOTHER PROJECT.

When will you call me back?  

You’ll call me back in 10 minutes?

LISTEN.  THIS IS IMPORTANT.

Do NOT ship in a mailing envelope.  It HAS to be shipped in a box.

Ship it signature required.

When will it arrive?

Her charge doesn’t go through.

I have an incorrect phone number, so I can’t call her back.  AAAARRRRRRGGGGGGG!  Is this a test? 

Obviously, she doesn’t get the shirts.

She calls the store manager a few days later and goes through the entire routine with him.  I forgot to void the original transaction so she gets charged twice

Fortunately, I kept all of the paper work.

She calls the manager again. In frustration equal to mine, he ends up wiping both charges from her account and sends her shirts are free.

Next year, she’ll probably call again and expect more free shirts and free shipping. I hope to God that I‘m not the one who answers the phone when she does.

Lest I forget, I go home and write the experience while it’s still fresh in my mind. The next morning, I showed it to a colleague. She asked for a copy to for her husband to read so that he’ll understand the sort of thing that we have put up with around here . . .

It isn’t always easy to face the fears of others in the face of our own, particularly during these exceptionally difficult times in which we live. Daily, we must choose between right and wrong, and decide how to behave under confusing circumstances that demand our attention. In the long run, it all boils down simply to one choice only: will I act in love, acceptance, and forgiveness, or will I allow judgment, fear, and anger to rule my mind?

Tee Shirt Lady surely did try my patience on that busy Sunday morning years ago. If this entire scenario occurred BEFORE Covid, can you imagine what in Heaven’s name those in the service industry must have to endure AFTER Covid? Pray for them and be kind. They need all of the love they can get. Don’t we all?

The Waiting Room

Déjá-vu.  If you’re curious about who you are, try waiting for a while.

There are nearly three hours to wile away at the dealership where my car is being serviced. I don’t mind. It’s what I do best—sitting, waiting . . . 

There are six of us in the room: two are on computers, two are on phones, and one is punching keys on an iPad. My computer is on my lap as I decide what to do next. iPad guy is wagging his head back and forth in what I can only assume is a response to the bad news that he is reading. The computer people are plugged up with ear buds. Intermittently, they drag out their iPhones for a quick look and poke away at keys. The room is completely devoid of eye contact.

Good grief. Where have we all gone? Off into a world of cyberspace as far away as we can get from one another. The cyber scene in front of me prompted me to put away my toys and opt for reading a book instead, Finding My Father’s Faithby a favorite blogger, Wynne Leon. A real, live, honest-to-God book with a cover and paper pages to turn. Another talented author, artist and blogger friend, Nancy Wait, makes the most of her name as she wiles away time spent on the subway by sketching marvelous images of sleepers dozing peacefully as she whips through the dark underbelly of New York City.

I sit and cool my jets while hanging out in a room full of noncommunicative people quietly absorbed in their various versions of electronics. Years ago in my Honda waiting room before electronics hijacked the world’s attention, quite a different story played itself out. Folks hid away in their  inner worlds reading newspapers or books or like me, sat quietly with eyes closed. My closed-eye peace was interrupted on one waiting-room day when a mom asked her small daughter if she’d like to watch TV. No matter that the kid was peacefully absorbed in reading her own book. Drat. So much for enjoying a moment of quiet stillness. 

The TV didn’t work. Thank goodness. From nowhere, the quiet readers sprang forth to assist, while I experienced an instant sense of resentment over the soon-to-be interruption. I consoled myself with the idea that this sweet little girl would probably enjoy something quiet, soothing—but no. Instead, she opted for a loud, violent scenario in which a building suddenly morphed into a ginormous unbelievably noisy and threatening robot intent upon destroying anything in its path. So much for assumptions. So much for reverie. So much for my wishes and my desires. Did anyone ask how I felt about this sudden shift in the disturbance of my reality? No. Did they care? No. Did I? Definitely!

As I sit in today’s Hyundai waiting room and wonder why I am writing this blog the answer creeps into awareness. It reminds me that life is like a waiting room—full of people who are strangers to us, each lost within his/her own head, each separated from one another by virtue of what goes on in the world of personal thought. It is easy to feel helpless in the face of situations that we cannot control, and frustrated by the decisions made by others without our permission—decisions that have a personal impact upon us. So often we are at the mercy of those around us in a desired world just beyond our reach.  

My personal waiting room is a wonderful place to see an infinite variety of souls and scenarios—some to my liking, some not. What a wonderful place to just sit and observe the contents of my world reflected back to me inside of my head. What a perfect opportunity to look into the crumpled fragments of my own inner workings and take care of the pieces that need a bit of smoothing out. 

Thank goodness for the kindhearted souls among us who rush in to be helpful—even if their help is not necessarily needed, wanted or welcomed by all. They provide me with a rich opportunity to look at attitudes and feelings that spring forth as a result of their good intentions. I may not be able to control the acts of others, but I can control my attitude. I can  decide whether I would prefer to react in anger or to respond with love and forgiveness. I can choose acceptance and peace of mind, or I can choose judgment and resentment.

Who am I? I am who I choose to be. 

Déjá-vu indeed. I’ve been in this waiting room for a very long time, and I think that it might be a very long time before I get back into my car and drive off into the sunset. I choose to be ready. While I wait, I want to do everything I can to graduate to the place where waiting rooms are nonexistent, and nothing exists but the unspeakably beautiful glory of what awaits us on the other side of the veil. Now that’s something worth waiting for!

As a final note, I’m happy to proclaim that this blog was started in the waiting room yesterday, finished in the Lazygirl today, and escaped the risk of being lost in the dumpster tomorrow (here). There’s hope for me yet. There’s hope for everything, friends. Keep the faith—and add your light to the vision of a waiting room filled with love, peace, joy, truth, beauty. Don’t forget to factor in the eye contact that allows us to truly see and appreciate another—and behold the best in all.

A Clean Sweep

Every now and then I take a deep dive into my dumpster—my Save and Review file into which I park my half-started unfinished blog attempts. Alas, there are many. This morning’s dive yielded the following (of which I had no memory) written in March 2020:

I have a vision – 

Light has overtaken the darkness, shining its brilliance into every dirty corner, every filthy crevice of the universe, revealing all of the nastiness that has been hidden deep in the underbelly of humanity for so many eons.

A great Universal vacuum seeks to suck up each and every speck of debris that stands as an obstacle to world peace and sweeps it off into a vast, secure and safe space where it is recycled, purified, and transformed into a substance that can be distributed back into the universe and used for the benefit of the earth and all of its kingdoms. 

That substance is love.

I wonder what else I’ve forgotten? Maybe I don’t want to know. 

Perhaps I stumbled onto this forgotten piece to remind myself of the importance of looking to the light, not the dark and to remember that energy follows thought and faithfully manifests what is uppermost in my mind. 

In the face of so much unhappy news in the world, now more than ever it is crucial to focus on what we wish to manifest rather than what we don’t—on what we can do to help ourselves survive the crises of these times and safely cross the bridge of transformation that will take us into a new and improved world.

Light not dark.

Love not fear.

Kindness and forgiveness, not judgment or condemnation.

Self-love, not self criticism.

When I remember, I stop and think about what I think. What’s going on in my head? What thoughts am I sending out into the world? Am I adding to the light? Or am I adding to the dark by allowing fear to clog up my brain? Like a loving parent, I need to monitor myself and the thoughts that I allow to dominate, and take corrective measures when I step out of line. 

So now—am I going to send this half-started, unfinished blog back into the black hole of the dumpster, or am I going to take the bull by the horns and say, “Oh the heck with it—the message is more important than the need for perfection, so just bite the bullet and push the publish button.”?

I vote for message over perfection. And here’s an added side benefit: one more unfinished blog escapes from the hidden recesses of the dumpster and makes into the light of day. Hi ho, hi ho, it’s into the light we go.

We are such beautiful souls—and yes, we are souls. We are sparks of the Divine. We create. We manifest. We have the power to craft the world we wish to live in—and the sooner the better. Think light my friends. Think love. 

Note to Self: Thanks for the reminder. Always appreciated! 

Note to Reader: I feed my soul by reading bits and pieces from A Tree of Light website. If your soul is hungry, you may like to taste a tidbit click here.

Baring my Soul

It feels a bit risky to make an out-loud bold profession of faith to the world at large about my personal beliefs, but I am going to take my heart in my hands and do it anyway. My proclamation should come as no great surprise to my very dear and loving ministerial family members and Christian friends who, I imagine, are already skeptical of my nontraditional spiritual proclivities. I also suspect that their suspicions may lead to prayers for the salvation of my soul. 

We all have our inner truth. Mine does not fall within the mainstream mindset of traditional religion. In my own mind (and perhaps in the minds of those who know and love me), I am a questionable Christian at best, and quite honestly, that’s probably sugar coating it. The truth is, that though raised a Protestant, I’m not sure that I can call myself a Christian at all, but I suppose that would likely depend upon one’s definition of Christian.

I confess that when I saw the above image of the Lord of my Heart standing in the clouds with His arms outstretched waiting to embrace me into the warmth of His love, I felt that I was being welcomed home. I want to sit forever at the feet of the Master and inhale his love, compassion, and wisdom. That’s the only thing in the world (or out of the world) that is truly worth wanting.

Now I ask you—does this mean that I am a Christian? Does it mean that I am not? Does it really matter?

What matters to me the most is that we—you, me, humanity—discover for ourselves the spark of divinity that dwells within our hearts. In my eyes, each one of us is a piece of creation that is the soul, and that one soul erases any sense of separation that divides us by the belief that we anything less than That.

In his blog Think2wice, R. Arthur Russell writes in his article, With:

“As this relates to billions of persons who are struggling to get along with one another, while living their apparently separate lives, the solution is deceptively simple: We must realize our Oneness. Who, realizing That which we truly are, would be prideful? Who, realizing That which we truly are, would be unwilling to forgive? . . .   We must clearly know—not just believe—that all persons of various colours, creeds, and nationalities are but apparent variations of the One. Thus, when we look at one another, we see our spiritual brother and sister.”

Does it really matter if we find the spark of divinity between the pages of a written text, or within the walls of a building, or within the heart? It matters only that we find it—not where. In my nontraditional understanding, Jesus the Christ dwells wherever we are.

I believe that He lives within the heart of every one of us who seeks to find Him, and that He patiently waits for us to discover that truth within ourselves. I believe that the sooner we—you, me, humanity—recognize that magnificent truth, the sooner we will be released from the hellish life that we are now living, and be set free to roam around in Paradise and live happily ever after.

If you haven’t already, please consider the wee possibility that maybe, just maybe each one of us does not just have a soul: we are a soul—yes, even the ones who bug us the most! Science has proven that we are energy, we are consciousness, we are connected. If we recognize and identify ourselves as souls rather than personalities, we will connect our one piece of the puzzle with the One Great Soul of which we are all a part.  

Once we manage that, we’re home free. We’ll slide gracefully from one world into the next with our eyes wide open, and be dazzled by the beauty, harmony, and love that will be our new home—a home we might call heaven. It all begins within our own heart.

Though my knowledge of theology and science is about equal to my skill as a techie, in my limited world of understanding, Christ comes bearing many names. In my world, his name is Love. I doubt that He cares very much about what we call Him—just that we call.

If we build it, He will come. When our hearts are constructed of love, we will experience a collective move out of hell into heaven. I’m ready! Are you?

PS: If you haven’t already, you may like to enjoy the comforting shelter of A Tree of Light website: atreeoflight.org. It truly is reassuring.

Oh—and please check out Voices: Who’s in Charge of the Committee in my Head? (Now available on Amazon and numerous other sites noted on Google).

 

A Whole New World

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I know this message is a bit of a divergence from my usual blog banter, but I just can’t help myself because I’m excited about an amazing website that has really helped me to weather the storm of trauma that is cluttering up the world stage today. For some reason I feel compelled to share it because it feels so absolutely, unbelievably, extremely important and timely that I cannot ignore the inner call to just do it. Perhaps you’ll think I’ve slipped off the deep end, but the truth is that the information that I am sharing is what has kept me from doing just that. It has kept me sane in the midst of insane world. I share it with the hope that it might do the same for you.

The image and words above are offered by A Tree of Light website in the hope of providing inspiration and comfort to a troubled world during this time of dire crisis. The message is written by spiritual Elders, Those who have gone before us on Their spiritual journey, and Who now live beyond the veil of our awareness. Though we do not see Them, They are here, guiding us as we travel along our own path of evolution. They are our Brothers and Sisters.

A Tree of Light website is an outgrowth of a relationship that has been forged in recent years between a group of people from around the world and Elders in the spiritual realm who have been guiding the group’s evolution.

If you feel so inclined, please visit atreeoflight.org. There you will learn a bit of the fascinating origins of A Tree of Light, and will have access to the profound words and teachings of Those whose footsteps we follow as we travel on our journey into a new new Aquarian civilization in which peace, harmony, unity, cooperation, truth, beauty, and love will reign supreme.

When you visit the website, be sure to check out the “About” section to learn a little of the Tree of Light history and those involved, and then explore the Tree for a wealth of profound teachings from our Elders. It is those words that help me keep my eye focused on the beautiful new civilization of love and light that is emerging from beneath the dark, rather than on the dying world of fear and negativity.

The “About” section, a glossary of terms, contact, and other information can be found in the menu (three lines) at the upper left corner of the home page.

Finally, I leave you with the beautiful and comforting words offered in the following brief video. https://youtu.be/TR2IGuyJSUM. Please enjoy!

Please also visit A Tree of Light on YouTube at: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCypJyrSfUCNz9PyBzcZgNJg

Blessings and peace to all.

It’s Never Too Late

In the infancy of a new year, there is always a lot of talk about goals, have you noticed? I  flunked out of Goal-Setting 101 long ago once I realized that in my world, goals are a lost cause. I don’t know about you, but lost causes are not good for my self-esteem.

Yesterday I watched myself slide through the day substituting small, mundane tasks for the big ones that make me truly happy—the ones that move me one step closer to the achievement of my desires. Sometimes it feels like a gigantic accomplishment just to finish a nagging little job that gets shifted from one day to the next, but those mini accomplishments don’t bring much joy at the end of the day when my head hits the pillow. Mostly, they’re just con jobs that I pull on myself to make me think that I’ve accomplished something really worthwhile.

My wise mother lived by the philosophy that she had wasted a day if she did not complete at least one task that she would not ordinarily do in the space of one day. For her that could be polishing the silver, or letting a hem down for a growing daughter. For me, it might be writing a blog, or taking one step in the direction of the shameless promotion of my new book, Voices: Who’s in Charge of the Committee in My Head?

To all appearances, yesterday’s activities (or lack thereof) didn’t exactly catapult me any closer to the achievement of my heart’s desires, but they did at least regenerate an interest in revisiting what those desires are. That may not be much, but at least it’s a start.

By the way, if you happen to be a member of the senior set like me, it might help to remember that we’re never too old to dream. Grandma Moses started her career as an artist in her 70’s. My mother married the love of her life when they were both in their 80’s and soon after, they sailed off into the sunset on a European honeymoon leaving the rest of us in the wake of their joy. My joy came last year when, in my 80’s, I published a second book—18 years after the first. It’s never too late to start something new.

But that was then, and this is now, and what will I do today to make my head happy when it hits the pillow tonight? How about if I write a blog? Or maybe do a bit of book promotion? Oh no! That’s the part that makes me want to stick my head back into the sand. My head prefers a pillow.

Well, today I wrote a blog, and maybe even snuck a teensy bit of book promotion into the mix. I’d say that I killed two-birds with one stone, but since I would not feel good about dusting off a couple of innocent birds, I’ll just say that I checked a couple of to-do’s off my list that hadn’t even made it onto the list.

Ah. My head and I will rest happily tonight.

Now, I’d like to ask you a question. If you were to do just one thing today that would make you happy tomorrow, what would that be? I’d really like to hear your thoughts about that! If you feel so inclined, please share in the comments section.

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)

P.S. If you’d like to have a look at my new book, please press here. I’m not sure if I’ve aced Links 101 yet, but if not, you may need to click twice.  There’s always something new to learn—at any age, right?

Hopes, Dreams, and Expectations

Okay, I confess—I am a little disappointed—a rather uncharacteristic feeling in the face of my usual Pollyanna worldview. Life on my planet is bass-ackwards. I recognize, of course, that my mild disappointment is but a drop in the ocean compared to current world events, but still—it’s my drop, my ocean, my planet. So in the overall scheme of things, my mini-discouragement doesn’t really matter very much, does it? Or does it?

So I ask myself—what is the source of this momentary dismay?

Well, my follow-up appointment on the status of my shattered patella dashed any hope of being sprung from the cumbersome knee mobilizer that I’ve been sleeping with and dragging around behind my walker for the past six weeks. Instead, I was sentenced to another six weeks of same old-same old. Bummer. The good news is that healing is much better than expected, surgery is off the table, and physical therapy can begin next week. Focus on the donut, Julia—not the hole.

Then, the dream of soaring sales of my newly released book, Voices: Who’s in Charge of the Committee in My Head, is—for the moment at least —nothing more than a mere pipe dream, but hope springs eternal. Perhaps reality manifests only when it receives a little help from the dreamer.

At the onset of my first six-week sentence in the Lazygirl, I had high hopes for a miraculous transformation from flawed human persona to heavenly angel with ginormous wings. Apparently, I slept through the first opportunity, so I have been given a second chance. That’s the thing with us humans, I figure. We are given endless second chances and opportunities to move ahead on our way toward miraculous transformation until we figure out how to get it right.

Some of us are simply slow learners. Well, I hope I get it right this time around so that I can be sprung from my knee trap and released back into the wild abandon that lives behind the wheel of my car. Meanwhile, I’ll do my best to do my best. I’ll attend to business, write blogs, dream dreams of healed knees and soaring book sales, and cross stuff off of my list of things to do—all the stuff that I promised myself I’d do during the first six weeks, but didn’t. Man, is that ever a long list.

Well, at least these are the things that I say I will do. But will I? Ah—therein lies the question. Can I be trusted to keep the promises that I make to myself? Have I followed up on my hopes and dreams in the past? If I fail to live up to my own expectations, will I become my own judge and jury, or will I simply become an observer and say, “Huh. Well would you look at that? Maybe there’s a better way to do it in the the next round.”

So again, my inner voice (the noisy one) launches into overdrive with questions that seem to defy answers. Does my disappointment really matter in the overall scheme of things? Do my thoughts and feelings make a difference in the world? Do my hopes, dreams, and expectations have an impact on my life, or on the lives of others? Where is the quiet Voice of Reason that has answers to these mysterious questions when I need It?

Oh, We are here, patiently awaiting your realization that you have wandered away for a spell. We know that you are aware of your wanderings, and that you have allowed distractions to lure you away from your inner being; We know that you feel as if you have disappointed yourself yet again. Your discouragement comes not from outer circumstances, but from within the part of you that yearns to reunite with your True Self. Your salvation will come when you realize that the only way for you to be sprung (to use your word) back into freedom is to reaffirm your commitment to doing those things which you know are in your own best interests, and in the best interests of the world.

In your wanderings, you have temporarily lost sight of your mission and purpose. We encourage you to reignite the flame of expectancy. So dear one, hope your hopes, and dream your dreams, and know that the power and energy of your True Self will fuel their manifestation. Coupled with faith, you cannot fail.  

Know that We love and support you; We stand behind you always; We are ever ready to be the wind beneath your wings as your soar toward the highest and best within yourself. You have as many opportunities as you will ever need to realize your True Self, and we joyfully await your arrival at the ultimate destination of the Soul.

Thank you, dear Friends, for helping me to reconnect with my Self. As I do so, it suddenly occurs to me that my one drop in the ocean does indeed affect the entire ocean. Meanwhile, should I become lost amidst the waves again, I trust that you will come and find me.

If the focus of my mind becomes the reality of my world, then what is it that I wish to manifest? Well for starters, how about an ocean of love?

That sounds like a mighty good place to start, right?

And by the way, I am happy to report that as I come to the end of a newly-written blog, yesterday’s disappointment has morphed into today’s gratitude for second chances. Six more weeks to manifest hopes and dreams. Hallelujah. Ground hog day lives on!

A final note from a reluctant author: self-promotion is the bane of this writer’s existence, but I’m going to do it anyway. After all, how else will hopes and dreams become reality if I’m afraid to give them a little push? So, here goes folks: Please check out my book on Amazon. Voices: Who’s in Charge of the Committee in My Head? For more information, see Something New is on the Way (October 31, 2021). I thank you so much!

 Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

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)

 

Disorderly Conduct

Today as I wandered around in my disorderly computer files trying to clean out the messes that I have left behind myself over the years, I stumbled upon stuff that I wrote eons ago—stuff that never saw the light of day, stuff that just sits there awaiting some sort of acknowledgement, destination, or deletion. As I look back, these dusty little gems show me where I was then, and where I am now. Today’s discovery, written sometime prior to 2009 is a fine example of my escape from self-terrorism into the happy realm of loving my perfectly imperfect self. Here it is:

I think I am suffering from seasonal hair disorder. You know – the winter blah kind of thing that would make my hair look as if I stuck a finger in a light socket with the electricity turned on?

Not only that, but I have a sneaking suspicion that in an effort to seek good company, the hair disorder gremlins have sent out some clever little scouts that have obligingly returned with the discovery of a personality disorder to add to my list of seasonal dysfunctions.

The hair situation is only a temporary thing, thank goodness, but the personality disorder thing—well, sometimes I think it will never end. Just as I think I have one aspect of myself in order, another flares up to remind me of my imperfection. My current favorites are foot-in-mouth disease, and bad judgment.

On the growing number of occasions when I suffer flare-ups of one disorder or another, my first tendency is to immediately send myself into bouts of self-flagellation in an attempt to beat myself back into my own good graces. This is not a technique that I would recommend to anyone who is trying to make the return trip to sanity.

Once I discover the futility of self-flagellation, I move on to rationalization. “Well, it really wasn’t that bad, was it? I think he’s over reacting just a wee bit. Obviously she misunderstood what I said. If she had been paying closer attention, it wouldn’t have happened at all, right”

The next response to my faux pas is the questioning phase. Why in Heaven’s name did I say such a thing? It just squirted out of my mouth like Ketchup out of a bottle that’s been slapped on the bottom 57 times. I can’t believe I did such a thing. How could I have been so thoughtless?

Oh, my poor aching psyche!

Behavior is not who I am. Bad behavior, good behavior, not who I am. Sometimes I’m the good witch and sometimes I’m the bad witch. I’m the whole witch, both good and bad. Maybe when I learn to love and respect the entirety of myself, I can say goodbye to my disorders. Well, the personality one, at least. The hair disorder may be around for as long as there are winters in my life.

What troubles me about all of this disorder business is that it seems to be happening more frequently. It’s as if the message is becoming more and more urgent. GET IT TOGETHER GIRL! Maybe I’d better pay attention and listen up.

Maybe it’s all that unhealed anger that’s been roiling around inside of me. Maybe I’d better get busy and start tending to myself because if I don’t, those embarrassing foot-in-mouth moments will show up more and more often.

I actually know people who don’t suffer from any of these annoyances. They just don’t get it. “Stop beating up on yourself,” they say. Or, “You’re being a little hard on yourself, don’t you think?” I spoke to such a person over onion soup and a chicken wrap just yesterday. Apparently, some folks simply cannot relate to those of us who haven’t mastered Self-Love 101 yet.

Contrarily, I also know people just like me. The self-flagellation specialists who find any little excuse at all to tell themselves that they were wrong, said something stupid, or committed some unforgivable act. Maybe it’s because like attracts like, but it seems to me that there are a whole lot more of us than there are of them.

Frankly, I think that these guiltless wonders have their nerve. Just who do they think they are, anyway? How dare they just shrug their shoulders and walk away from their mistakes while the rest of us suffer the treachery of our own mind drama?

But you know what? I’ll give myself credit for having the courage to say out loud what so many of us suffer in silence. After all, who wants to admit to walking through life carrying a bag loaded full of personal flaws? It’s a crummy job, but I’ll do it, because by golly, if it gives just one other person hope and the courage to move beyond their self-perceived sins, then it’s all worth it.

Maybe I’ll try to be more like the guiltless ones.

Or, maybe just I’ll choose to be perfectly imperfect.

Or both.

Ah. Living happily within the realm of one’s own good graces is a glorious thing. I highly recommend it.