food fun

In August, my family hosted an 18 year old from Saudi Arabia for 2 1/2 weeks in our home. His name is Hussein. We learned a great deal from Hussein about his culture, and I think it is safe to say that he learned even more about American culture from tagging along with our 17 year old son to school and social events, as well as interacting with our two daughters!

One new experience we gained came about when Hussein cooked us a traditional dish from his homeland of rice and Halal chicken. He served this yummy-smelling meal on a large platter and then asked us, in his broken English, if we would like to eat it they way it is eaten in his country. We had no idea what he meant by this question, but we were all game. Hussein proceeded to dig in to the food with his fingers, tearing chicken off the bone and gathering rice into the tips of his fingers, and then he neatly brought the mixture to his mouth and ate it. 

The rice was not the sticky Japanese variety, so no matter our attempt at scooping, shoveling, or compacting it, we couldn’t avoid making a mess of our faces, our laps or the floor! We have never laughed so much at the dinner table or had so much fun eating. We looked like a family of toddlers. No plates, no utensils, and surprisingly no dexterity in our fingers to master this seemingly basic and simple task. Although Hussein had total faith in us and illustrated time again the proper placement of our fingers, we still ended up with a rice trail to every seat but his!

soul food

glimpses of beauty and peace this last week

juxtaposing the turmoil in our daily life

an afternoon in the mountains

a postcard perfect day

strokes of Aspen gold brushed among the panoramic Evergreens

elk herds in the meadows

bulls bugling their eerie otherworldly mating calls

hiking hand-in-hand with my beloved

we perched ourselves on a massive boulder

allowing the roar of a waterfall to wash away all distractions from the present

a finger smashed in a locker...but not broken!

my son sharing his truth 

sowing seeds of healing with his dance family

tea with a friend in pain

over her decision to end her 15 year marriage

yet the undercurrent of peaceful soul knowing shone through her tears

me time, snuggling on my couch 

finishing my 900 page book, The Mists of Avalon

an unrequested back massage from my husband

purity in his giving and my receiving - nothing more or less

his touch enveloping me as if in the care of great Mothers

Mother Earth, Mother Mary, the Goddess Quan Yin 

Trey's eyes illuminating absolute love of me, for me

these are God sightings

Her miracles nourishing my soul

tug of war within

I had an off day yesterday, a genuine funk. And I thought that I was doing so well with the recent struggles in our lives. For the most part, I have remained centered and stable and connected in the face of these challenges. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, fear or grief or anger bubbled up from the deep crevices of my being and disturbed the calm waters of my peace.

As is typical for me, I am incredulous and shocked that fear/sadness/anger still have an unyielding grasp on me. I am frustrated by my internal tug of war, the knowing that “all is well and exactly as it should be” holding one end of the rope v. the feeling “but this hurts like hell and/or I am so afraid of the unknown” pulling equally in opposition at the other end. Why, oh why, if I am tapped into and connected with my higher self and a broader perspective, do I still feel and experience negative, draining emotions?

This is when I have to remind myself that I am both a spiritual being and a human being.  Even though I desperately wish that my higher knowing (and the accompanying peace it provides) would act as a magic wand and simply erase any and all residual fear, pain, anger, despair, regret, depression, melancholy...it doesn’t. The reality is that the human part of me still needs tending to.

This awareness has never been clearer to me than with the deaths of my loved ones. With each loss, I simultaneously experienced profound peace and insufferable pain. I never questioned or judged my expression of grief. It was real and pure and raw and I knew without a doubt that it was far healthier for me to grieve than not. I’m not sure that I could have contained my deep feelings of loss even if I had tried. Yet at the same time, I was acutely aware that my higher knowing, my sense of the bigger picture of life, was the grace of God that allowed and nurtured my healing.

Being in fear or sadness or any other negative emotion sucks. The negative emotions arising in me now are not overpowering as they were when my family and friend died. I could ignore them.  I could choose to only validate the higher knowing part of myself, dragging the human emotional part of me along kicking and screaming, expecting a magical healing. Or I could acknowledge that the human part of me still holds old beliefs, patterns, programming that need to be dismantled and replaced with more expansive, loving, higher thought, truth connections. 

It will require attention and effort on my part to give the human aspect of me its expression, allowing my fear or sense of loss or sadness its voice so that I can then understand it, heal it, release it, transform it. (There are infinite resources available to help me through this process, some of which I connect to are prayer, the teachings of “What the Bleep” and “The Secret,” and The Work of Byron Katie.)

I absolutely cherish that I trust and listen to my intuition, my heart and my guidance, but I also want to be mindful of the tug of the human part of me that still needs attention...that part of me that still wears and bares the sentiment, “Fragile. Handle with care.”

"should" and "must" - enemies of passion

My son Mason is mesmerizing in motion and movement. He emotes an invisible yet tangible quality, character, emotion in his dancing that deeply touches and moves the hearts of many of us observing him. We are drawn in to the experience. Though sitting, our spirits dance with him and experience openness, authenticity, freedom. Through him we witness purity of gifts and the expression of natural talent.

(Okay, sometimes he just goes through the motions of dance, but more often than not he connects to it.)

Mason recently decided to step away from competing in dance this year, his senior year.   To those of you not familiar with the competitive dance world, what that means, in part, is that he will not work with the nationally-acclaimed choreographers who come to his studio to choreograph pieces for the year. He also will no longer have a venue for performing on stage in front of dance teachers and choreographers or a general audience. 

It is not common to opt out of competition if you are serious about creating a dance career after high school. Needless to say, because of his incredible talent, his peers can’t believe it, and his studio owners are disappointed, as are Trey and I. Why put at risk the professional relationships he has nurtured and the buzz and momentum he has created around himself?

Because he listened to his heart.

Part of me is thinking, “Damn! Why are Trey and I such heart-focused parents!” The higher knowing part of me is celebrating his decision, because listening to his heart is one of my sincere desires for him (for all of my children) throughout his life.

It took a lot of courage for him to go against the advice of his teachers/mentors whose greatest desires are to support him on his dance journey. Mason has always heeded their advice, and now he is not. He has taken the beginning steps of transitioning out of boyhood and into manhood, into his own power.

This situation has made me question whether we have a “moral” or “spiritual” responsibility to share and live our greatest gifts? What do you think?

In my 49 years of life experience, I have said “no” for significant time periods to two of my gifts - channeling and writing.  I said “no” when the expression of these gifts felt burdensome, when I believed that I had no choice or control or say-so in them, when I felt I had to do them in a certain way by fitting into someone else’s expectations or boundaries.... The tell-tell signs for me that I was not in my authentic power and choice were when I recognized that I invariably attached “should” to my doing them and the requirement that they “must” look a certain way. 

I believe that we have the right to say no. For me, saying no was the only way I knew at the time to re-form and re-configure my expression of them. I said yes again on both fronts, but only when I was ready and able to proceed in harmony with my heart and my knowing. Now, my expression through writing and channeling feels joyful and fun, and I experience ease and flow and a sense of peace. I have allowed passion to reignite in me. 

Mason’s choice to compete or not does not encompass rightness or wrongness, but is neutral. One decision is not towards love and the other away from love. His decision to not compete is only personal to him, not to anyone else, even though we may feel it personally. Mason feels that the cycle of competition for him has run its course, like the end of a season or a relationship. He acknowledged that this year he was entering the dance season with one foot on the gas pedal and the other on the brake, and knew that he was sending conflicting messages to the Universe. I am proud that he can see and acknowledge that. And although his decision appears to go against a proven and traditional path for success, that path is not the only way to succeed. 

Malcolm Gladwell in his book, The Outliers, speaks to the standard of needing to put 10,000 hours into your field or craft to become an expert. 10,000 hours! Sounds overwhelming to me, but I imagine that passion is the healthiest and most natural fuel and energy to get you there. I am so grateful that my son has the insight and maturity to make difficult choices away from “should” and “must” in order to protect his passion.

grace from my Grace

Recently, it has felt like my family is in the energy of “the shit hit the fan.” When I used this descriptive expression in front of my analytical son, he questioned why anyone would throw shit at a fan! Granted, he made a valid point, but it was beside the point I was trying to make.

In one week’s time, Trey and I met with a bankruptcy attorney, Mason had is first fender bender (in Trey’s car) on the highway, Connor got a triple ticket driving back from Boulder, our garage door quit working despite three attempts by a repair man to fix it which meant that our cars were parked in unusual places and Mason backed his car into my car (so he banged up all three of our cars!), my radiator sprung a leak and had to be replaced, Mason decided to quit competing for his studio (although he plans to continue his dance training) causing friction with his studio owners and his parents, and my sister is in excruciating back pain and will have back surgery on Wednesday. Shit...is hitting the fan! What a mess!

Gracie seems to be the only one in our family with her act together. Don’t take me wrong because she is, after all, a 13 year old hormonal 8th grader who doesn’t care for her parents much anymore and who is prone to frequent unpleasant outbursts of negative dramatic emotion, but somehow her life is rocking along smoothly and successfully. Go figure.

In the solitude of my car (actually Trey’s because my radiator was kaput) over a 17 hour drive home from Chicago, I embraced Grace-like behavior. I screamed and cussed at the top of my lungs, I bawled like a baby, and I threw many temper tantrums...for hours. And then I was better. Instead of bottling up all the stress and frustration and anger and fear I felt about all of these predicaments, I expressed the deep reservoir of my emotions in the moment, releasing the negative and freeing up space in me to see the bigger picture, to gain a healthy and balanced perspective, and to find peace. Gracie is on to something. It worked! 

Although the onset of the teenage years can seem like hell, I just tasted a little bit of heaven by reverting back to my teenage-ness! I discovered grace from my Grace.

Jesus - a way to know thyself

So many things to share! Returned yesterday from a five day road trip to Chicago and back to take Connor to Northwestern for her sophomore year. Lots of food for thought. Here’s one.

On my solo 17 hour drive home, I saw a billboard that read “Jesus - the ONLY way to know God.” My impulse response, yelling out loud I should add, was “You’re f---ing crazy!” Really?!

I absolutely love Jesus. He has shown up in my life in direct, powerful, and dramatic ways. I have experienced his love, his presence, his energy, his beauty many times over. I also have vivid memories of life with him when he incarnated on Earth.  I have experienced his essence as truth and as pure love manifested on Earth. 

I have never experienced or felt him teaching, professing, or even suggesting that the ONLY way to know God is through him. Jesus was, he is, pure love consciousness. He is an ultimate example of what and who we have the potential and power and destiny to be. 

God is present in our lives each and every moment because the presence of God is within. We are foolish to believe that we need to look externally to find God, whether it be through a person, a holy text, an artifact or a religion. External manifestations are present simply to assist us on our journey of embracing the divine within, but they are not the destination. Through Jesus and the other many sages, prophets, enlightened masters, seers, gurus, saints, beings of light, we can follow their examples of self-realization and tap into the infinite reservoir of our own authentic power, love essence, and divinity!

Jesus did not come to Earth to limit our experience of God through him. Jesus came here to shine his light so that we may grasp that we have the innate capacity to shine our own. His capacity to love overwhelms me, accessing my love in return.

he completes me

Last weekend, I joined a group of ladies to see the movie “Eat Pray Love.”  The movie, which is based on Elizabeth Gilbert’s book of the same name, has led me to reflect upon my relationship with my husband Trey.

I need Trey. There was a time, early in our relationship, that I needed him for the “wrong” reasons…my insecurity and perceived lack of power. Then I grew and evolved and self-discovered and came to the idea that I must relinquish any and all need for him to prove my emotional health. I believed that I must be able to be independent and autonomous. That is a little difficult to totally achieve when you are happily married, but to some extent I did achieve it. I reached a point in our relationship and in my life in which I knew without a doubt that I could be okay without him. More importantly, I knew that I was “me” whether with him, or without him. For me, it was a journey of discovering that I love myself, deeply in fact. I held the belief that though I did not need Trey to be healthy and to be me, life was far richer and juicier and more joyous sharing it with him. 

And now, I find myself back to the knowing that I need Trey. I need my beloved to fully experience myself. I need his touch to keep my body aware and responsive. I need the space he creates while we lie in bed, his arms around me, his heart open and nonjudgmental, and his willingness to just be present with me…for me to release and shed through words or tears or both the sadness of the world that I tend to absorb. I need him like he is my counterpart, the yang of my yin, the completion of me, the perfect complement and balance to wholeness. At one time, it felt as though his profound love for me was the soil, the nourishment, for my own blooming, but now it feels as though energetically, spiritually, and in essence we are one and the same; he is me and I am him. In this new and different way from our early relationship, I need him.