The best is yet to come!

Here it is January 31st, 2009. I was sitting in the car parked in the Fred Meyer parking lot trying to remember what I drove there for. Then on the car stereo came the song "The Best is yet to Come" by Michael Buble. I was stricken. As reflective as I have been this past six months, this still struck me to silence. I have to admit I think this song is for me to sing to myself but also to all the people in my life. I have felt as if I was crawling out of my shell or cocoon of forty five years. I have seen the face in the mirror, I have felt the scars. Reality has been faced everyday and still embraced with acknowledgement and love. Acknowledgement for the choices I have made and the path I have chosen. Acknowledgement for the peace and the sadness. Acknowledgement for the steps of unfinished work and direction. Love for myself and my life, love for my weaknesses and short-comings. Love for my wrinkles and twinkles.

I look back on the path and see the steps I have taken and the places I have stumbled. I have seen the parts that I left the path and strayed in the dark for a while wondering "what the hell am I doing with my life?". There were places I just plopped down and felt sorry for myself along the path. Places that I ran instead of walked and even places where I ran with scissors! Amazing I didn't hurt myself along the way. Everything seemed recoverable, meaning I recovered just fine and in some cases, I recovered coming out better than how I went in.

So with that in mind. I am so grateful for who I have become. I think I have to say that looking back at the family photo album was a good exercise for me. Each year we take family pictures as part of our family tradition. I have kept them all and have them in a photo album. I looked at the smile I had in each picture, compared it to the message my eyes were saying. They were not in line with each other. But in the observation of this years' photo as compared to last years...well there is something much more to behold. This past year I have my sparkle back, my posture, my eyes now match my smile and my heart is clearly visible in both of them. For this I am grateful.

I can believe that whatever is coming next is going to be great! Going to outshine this past year and all the other years that stand behind me. I am excited to experience it all and know that my kids will grow and shine, my work will expand and fulfil, my friends will increase and be such a wonderful enhancement to my days!

So to that I can say Happy New Year! I mean it! Yay! 2010 here I come!

The best is yet to come.

Out of the tree of life, I just picked me a plum.

You came along and everything's startin to hum.

Still, it's a real good bet, the best is yet to come.

Best is yet to come and babe, won't that be fine?

You think you've seen the sun, but you ain't seen it shine.

a-Wait till the warm-up's underway.

Wait till our lips have met.

An wait till you see that sunshine day.

You ain't seen nothin' yet.

The best is yet to come and babe, won't it be fine?

Best is yet to come, come the day you're mine.

Come the day you're mine,

I'm gonna teach you to fly.

We've on tasted the wine,

We're gonna drain the cup dry.

Wait till your charms are right for these arms to surround,

You think you've flown before, but baby, you ain't left the ground.

a-Wait till you're locked in my embrace,

Wait till I draw you near.

a-Wait till you see that sunshine place,

Ain't nothin' like it here.

The best is yet to come and babe, won't it be fine?

The best is yet to come, come the day you're mine.

Come the day you're mine,

And you're gonna be mine!

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I know you are super busy this time of year. I feel your pain as I too have been the busiest ever this year and now facing the holidays, I see the frenzy my world has spun into. With that acknowledgement I want you to know how much I appreciate your role in my life. You are that piece of magic that brings tears to my eyes when I am sad at the holidays. You are the smile that beams across the face of my children and friends on the morning after your arrival. You are that feeling in my heart when I have accomplished my shopping, cards and notes and baking and wrapping. You are my sense of accomplishment. Much like what I experienced in other times of my life.

Thank you! Thank you for granting me your spirit of giving. Giving to myself and to my loved ones. Giving of myself and of my abilities. Thank you for being in my culture and in my heart and thoughts.

So now comes the secondly most important part of my letter to you. "The Ask"! Yes still with the belief of a small child I have an "Ask" for you. I ask because I have worked so hard to be a good girl this year, I ask because I believe you still wield power in my heart and that in itself has the potential to manifest itself in so many ways.

Dearest Santa, I ask of you that my children know they are loved. That they feel the power and beauty of their individual worth in my eyes and in the Universe. I ask that you grant us the harmony to make it through the holiday season safely and with peace, good health and love for each other. I ask that you bring them this sense this year. Grant them their hearts desires and dreams that only you can.

Dearest Santa, I ask of you to know and spread the love I have for my friends. I ask that you would grant them their comfort, peace, health and safety. In this crazy time in all our lives, I ask that you, dearest Santa, bring them what they need.

Dearest Santa, I ask that you bless the world with a slower pace, a chance to see each other's faces, to feel of the season not of the holiday, it is long lost. The world spins faster each day, the moments get lost so quickly. Help us hang on to them.

Dearest Santa, I ask for myself lastly, to brighten my horizon, bless me with the moments of grace, beauty and peace that I long for this season. Bless me with quiet time and the strength to see the moment. Bless with me with a comfortable hot bath, a long session of a loved one brushing my hair, hours of peaceful sleep and deep and rewarding dreams. Bless me with the skills to do more than last year, to feel and hear the voice that drives my soul. Bless me with the power and intuition to move mountains and people so that the world is a better place. Bless me with the gifts you gave me in past years in a more enhanced way...update my program and make me better this year. Help me see more, be more and feel more, love more, work more efficiently, hug longer, see deeper, breathe clearer. Dearest Santa, Give me nothing more of the material things but of the gifts of life and the gifts of the Universe. Enhance me to be a better mom, a better leader, a better friend, a better lover, a better sister, aunt, cousin, daughter and person.

Dearest Santa, I hope these things I ask are carried in the amount of space that resembles a thimble. I hope their weight is light and their gifts eternal. I know you are that universal spirit of all that we can believe in.

Thank you Santa!

P.S. I think red is your best color and I will be listening for you!

For Kristina

My gift to you. I have nothing to offer that you have not already received in this lifetime. I am in awe of all that you are and that you possess. Your life, your love, your joy, your beauty and your heart. For what is in and out is all around you like the wind and the air.

The wind chime hangs on the eve, in the tree and in the place that it longs to be heard and touched by the wind. Resonating with movement and keeping all consciousness in the present moment when heard and reflecting on the inner and outer part of us.

Like the constant presence of a friend, it is moved by the wind of life. Changed and moved to the tempest of things that occur in the atmosphere and in our worlds. For it's chimes are unique, like friendship. Clashing and tuning, singing and crying and vibrating at a level that is unique to its composition. Be they wood, crystal, porcelain, glass, metal, all have their make up based upon our the forces that have forged them.

Sometimes its' chime can cheer us when we need to hear its music to help us go on, sometimes it can break our heart when we are sad. Sometimes it is still. Only recognized in a glance. Noticeable in the background.

I think you are strong like metal, warm like wood, delicate like porcelain and brilliant like crystal or glass. Hanging in the balance of this humanity. Singing, resonating and being you. Unique to your journey, your call and your gift. Created to sing just the un-duplicated song that is your example. Like a snowflake, no two people or wind chime is the same. Each responding to the winds of life and the Universe in its own way. Taking into the air your song, your message and sharing that beauty and kindness for those just ready for it. Hanging, clashing, strongly in the wind, a tailor made song for those in tune and in that listening moment.

Noble and fragile, simple and complex. Just what you were designed for. That is your legacy, your stamp on life.

You are incredible in design and in construction. Brilliant in balance and music. You are that terrific sound I hear in my heart when I think of you my dear friend. I will be mindful of your chime, your song. I will recognize it the dark and in the light. I will understand it in a storm and in a gentle breeze.

You are glorious.

In a room full of company...

There was this moment when I stopped talking and thought internally about the reality of the moment. I had my best sweater on. I knew my hair was clean, I knew I was presentable but something still drove the mental vehicle out of control. Here we are in a room full of company, not strangers, not alien, in a comfortable setting, familiar surroundings. Just talking choosing our words carefully and minding many aspects of our humanity. Does our breath smell, is my lipstick on straight, did I remember deodorant? Does she understand what I am saying? How can he say that and not understand the impact on what I am feeling? Where is that quiet? How can that be held? The holidays are here and yet we are not alone. Not really alone with our thoughts and our feelings. We are never as truly vigilant as we are are among those in our family and friends and people who know us most or more.

In a room full of strangers the inner dialogue continues but with a different spin. Do I look like that? I wouldn't want to be with them too long. How does she do it? Where is the sanity for this person? Are they always so negative? Is it just a place of constant downer? Can they not find happiness in anything? Do they know how hard it is to focus on their story? Good thing thing they don't know what I am really like when I loose my cool! Sigh!

It is easier to be in a room full of company or strangers sometimes than to be in a room alone, by myself and with myself. I think that it is a distraction from the self analysis we endure to be in a room full of company. Aren't we our own worst critic? Aren't we the one person on the entire earth that truly knows what we are capable of, what we should measure up to? Aren't we the one person who knows best how to take care of ourselves but we fail to listen. Fail to breath life into the conversation with ourselves. For fear? For lack of conversation? For a loss of words? For the void of feeling? Can we just listen? Feel and breath into each thought feeling and action? Knowing we were created for this purpose and many more? Knowing that each and everything happens for a reason. Each thought, each action, each feeling and they are all somehow intrinsically connected? I am learning to feel at home in my own skin and in my own thoughts. I am thankful for the silence that is in my life and also grateful for the noise as well. I will celebrate them both! Cheers!

Mountain through the Hills

It was stunning. I thought I had lost my breath. As I drove over the crest of the hill, there it was staring me in the face. That range of mountains that I had failed to see for many days. I had missed it for perhaps many months. The clouds were gone. The air was clear. Sunny and bright. Nothing barring my view. The snow covered mountains that all along were so near to me and yet seemed so far away. In the past I had felt so far from them. So devastated by the altitude and work that was required from me to overcome them. To climb them, to see past the hill into the horizon. It appeared that it was not achievable.

Now there they were for me just as if they had been there all along. Right in front of me and right behind me.

Seeing the Mountains through the hills. "Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better." -Albert Einstein

The hills have me challenged. Stress, loves, worries, tasks too big for me to realize. I had forgotten my way. Forgotten where I came from. Forgotten the commitment to cross this path, this journey to accomplish this trek. A deep breath, a warming sense of knowing. I felt alive again. I feel appreciative to have the sight, the vision and the feeling of achievement before me, behind me and yet still standing on the hill and able to see where I been and where I am going. I see the lows and the highs. I know that this feeling has to carry me. I am carrying on.

I get you...Ode to Dad

Dear Dad,

I know sometimes being in your skin must feel difficult. The path you have chosen has been rough, sad and sometimes overwhelming. You stand so tall and so valiantly in my eyes I don't think I have ever expressed how I truly felt growing up in your shadow.

I want to say first off...I get you!

At a tender age of eight, you were a stranger. Your career took you away from my daily routine. I relished in the time I got to sit in your lap or to ride along with you on an errand. I remember walking beside you, running to keep up with your stride. Your six foot seven in frame walked with determination and purpose. For every one step of yours I had to take three to stay by your side. I thought you walked too fast. That I was just not going to be able to catch up. I remember thinking "My dad is the tallest man in the world!". You were, in my world. I was proud to be able to say that to my school mates.

I remember thinking you were less than cool in public at fourteen. I used to shudder at the idea of having to sit next to you. I didn't realize you wanted to be with me. I thought you were punishing me. I miss being able to sit next to you now. As a mom I now get it because my own teenager doesn't want to sit next to me. I get you.

I thought the Army didn't teach you to sing very well and later it occurred to me that you sang differently because your song was one of work. It was not one made for a choir in church but a choir of a warrior clinging to their faith. I always thought that your heartfelt National Anthem in church on Sunday near the forth of July was your best performance ever! I get you.

I know now the worry you and Mom silently endured over my escapades and choices. I see that you had seen the world at it's rawest, truest, grittiest form when you worried about me and my life. I get you.

I know how much I dreaded summers as a teen when I couldn't escape to a summer job. That meant I had to work with you, doing tasks like hanging sheet rock, shingling the roof, volunteering in the community, traveling with you on a campaign trail, mowing the lawn and pulling up bushes to make our home more livable. Now I am so grateful for the knowledge of how to replace a fixture, shingle, change the oil, greet a stranger, put on a smiling face and offer my hand in community service. Back then I thought those things were so trivial, not going to amount to much like the Algebra in school I would never use. Boy was I wrong. Those things took my life and shaped me in ways I can not count.

For a man who was often working, gone to foreign countries during my early years, you have left a love of my country, a respect for my freedom and a desire to believe in the betterment of mankind as a whole. I know as an adult now the journey you trod, the roles and responsibilities you bore and I get you.

Thank you for being who you are. Thank you for instilling in me the values of your heart. Thank you for showing me I was loved in the best way you could. Thank you for being a veteran. Thank you for the value that lifestyle gave me and shaped me. Your work in me continues daily, each time I meet someone, raise my children and be who I need to be.

I am proud of you in so many ways. I have a deeper love and deeper respect for you now than ever before. I am again humbled to walk in your path. For every one step you take the world demands three steps from me yet again because of it's complexities. Your step training has prepared me well. Like an athlete to be the parent of endurance, value, integrity and love. I know now what I didn't know then. Thank you for being my Dad and the Veteran of my life!

I get you! Thank you Vet! Thank you Dad!

Leap of Faith

It is Monday. I haven't written and feel the impact of my neglect. I have longed to write but have not. I have felt my heart toss and turn and writhe in confusion and fear. A new week and looking back I have been fighting the good fight. The battle over apathy, fear and stagnation. It is a new moon and one of great promise for me, my life and my loved ones. I know that I have to see the next step as a human to know where I will go, what will happen and how things will end up. It is as if the basement light is broken and I need to go down into the dark to fix it. The need of knowing that one step is still there as it has always been.

So here we go. Taking the leap of faith. Knowing I am just one step away from the dreams of my heart and the design of my life and soul.

I remember my Mom telling me to "Fish or cut bait", "Shit or get off the pot", "Move it or lose it". She was raised by parents who were farmers and the wisdom of idioms were readily shared from their generation to ours and now on to my own children. It was always so powerful of a feeling to understand my Mom's idioms and wisdom. When I got it I felt like a genius. I can hear her telling me that it will be okay, better than okay, if I would just get up, "pull myself up by my bootstraps" and get moving. At this age, I cherish this insight and the resonating voice of my mother in my head at times like this. I see my Mom's hand when I touch my children and serve them. I hear my Mom's words come out of my mouth. I can feel her hug when I am fearful. How powerful, how personal, how intimate.

So here goes, the leap of faith. Taking a deep breath and knowing the water might be cold, the fall might be scary, I might be a bit disoriented when I land but, it all will work out. I am grateful for this knowledge. I am sure there will be a story to tell someday about the adventure. Something I can embellish for my grand kids and to relish for my own accomplishments.

I am closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. Ready, set, go! I am leaping into my choices and into my hearts dream. There is much I am feeling.

Thanks Mom! I hope my children can see the faith and feel the legacy and know the power that they hold. I am grateful for the opportunity to create, live and leap! Yeee Haaaw!

Ready for brewing...

This morning is a good morning for tea, not just coffee, but tea. Something to slow brew. I know there is much running through my mind this morning and I just need time to make it come to a place of understanding that will give me clarity and vision.

It is a bit chilly and rainy. A cloudy day. I wanted to know what was going to happen today. I had such vivid dreams of people I have never met. Some of them comprehensible and others I just couldn't put my finger on them. Who were they? What would they bring to my life?

I think there is so much richness in my life. I often fail miserably at seeing it with clarity. I am blessed with good friends, people who love me and care about my well being. I am alive, working, contributing and growing. I can give and give so willingly without worry. I have a past that has fueled many emotions, some good, some bad. Some have been abandoned in my history book. Some I will relive and relish for times of reflection. I am grateful for my education and my family. I appreciate the obstacles, the failures, the lack of knowledge or insight at times in my life when I needed it. That lack has given me a true adventure and honed me to be who I am today.

So would I do it all over again in the same way changing nothing? Yes, whole heartily yes. Scrapes, tears and falls! Yes I would, I would embrace it all.

I long for the peace that will give me my clarity. I think I have been looking outside for it and it has been withing me all along. I found it in the pocket of my heart. I have had it all along and just didn't know it! It is brewing.

The Heart Broken

I have been thinking of the heartbreaks in my past and their impact on my life. They have greatly influenced my choices and decisions.

Been in love more than a couple of time before. Just not with the right ones I guess. Made a few more leaps than I should have and tied a knot that was not stable. I have had a broken heart a torn heart and a worn heart. I have had a heart of congestion from worry and stress. I have had a heart that runs like an over-heated engine, too fast and unregulated.

This weekend I discovered that my heart can manifest things of its own power. I have allowed my heart to emit waves, sonic kind of waves to attract a desire. Like a whale calling to its loved ones across the ocean. The heart has the power to send out vibrations of truth to manifest its desire. I didn't realize how powerful it was until I saw the manifestation occur. I was frightened by the result. I shook, trembled. I realized I had manifested the wrong thing for my benefit. How powerful of a waste. All was not wasted as it was a worthy lesson for me. Not just a coincidence.

Does the heart really grow fonder?

Does it truly break? Can it fix the tear, leak or blow out? The human body is designed to heal itself, to regenerate. Can we hear the healing? Isn't it silent, cell by cell, over time? Growing in the dark and light during the day and night?

Here is your heart's desire. Give a piece of your heart. Have a heart to heart. Brave heart, lonely heart, sweetheart,two hearts beating as one.

Is it just an organ, hardwired to function? Does it truly feel? Are we interpreting emotion into it?

Can the Universe feel and hear and sense our heart?

I can think with my heart. Die of a broken heart. Lose heart. Know when my hearts just not into it. Restart my heart. A keeper of hearts. Tender heart, hard heart, cold heart. Still beating heart. Strong heart. Leave my heart. Telltale heart.

Wow just so much to feel and think about. I am grateful for my heartaches. I feel alive in the pain and conscious of my place in the Universe. I am knowing that it is a necessary pain. I know it is a necessary growth. I am careful with my heart today as it has been wounded and it has done much.

The Windfall and the Apple

I got a bag of apples yesterday. They were so good, crisp, sweet, tart. All of this brought a flood of memories to me. Memories of the orchards and the apples and the design of life and the Universe. How much I had forgotten and left behind. How much of the answers to our behaviors lie within the growth patterns and behaviors of the apple tree.

I always thought fall was the best season for me personally. Winter was the best season for my family as it kept us inside and close together. Spring was colorful and promising and summer was comfortable. But fall was personal to me. I have always felt like it was the best season for me, Ann, as if it was designed just for me.

The leaves changing, the temperature changing. Enjoying those changes, all of it is so resonating for me. Much happens in the fall, school starts, that means new clothes, new friends, new teachers, new learning and sometimes new loves. Fall meant a world of new smells. Dusty decomposing leaves, fireplaces, rain and snow(if we were so lucky) and especially the smell of hay.

I remember the days of windfall. Windfall was when the local apple orchards would allow us to come and pick up any of the apples that would fall to the ground and we could keep them for free. It was usually after the fall wind and rains would come and knock them to the ground. The harvest of the best apples was usually well past and the remaining apples were typically spotted, bruised or in some way short in growth or maturity until they get knocked off the trees. We would take the apples home and clean them and cut and dehydrate them and bake with them and make apple sauce. I especially remember Taylor's Apple orchard out near my folks farm. The rows of trees were so wonderful. The kids could run through them and it was always safe. There wasn't anything they could get into that required supervision. They could pick up as many apples as their little arms could carry. It was always fun. I remember the folks talking about the deer coming in the early morning to eat the apples off of the trees and I would be amazed that it was just a free for all the deer and yet no one would go and photograph them or witness it. I always wanted to see the armies of deer eating freely!

I like windfall since I could enjoy the fall sunny day while having some quiet time walking among trees. My tennis shoes would always be wet from the dew and slippery from the decomposing leaves and apples. I can remember the smell of the fermenting apples as they lay in the leaves rotting. The newly fallen ones on top and the rotting ones either smashed, covered in leaves or partially eaten by birds, squirrels or other animals.

I loved the smell of the cider press, the hay strewn on the path among the trees. The apple shed that had the great machines to sort the apples and the bins that held them. It was all so mesmerizing.

Sitting in the grass under the trees on a sloping hill. I would watch the apples roll down into the field. It was always a reflective place and time.

"You can count the seeds in an apple, but you can't count the apples in a seed." This was a saying that made me ponder at great length growing up. I can imagine how many times as a preschool teacher and mom I have taught about the apple to my children and students. The star in the apple when it is cut in a horizontally. The necklaces made from apple seeds. The apple prints in tempura paint. the dried apple leaves. The dried apple faces that look like shriveled up old people, adding cotton for hair and bent pipe cleaners for eye glasses. There was always endless fun.

Cleaning apples after windfall we would find worms, beetles and flies. Peelings could be spotted and thick. Bruises were of all shapes and sizes. Kind of like people. Some folks you know have bruises, worms and bugs, that make them who they are.
Some have coloring that are just defining as unique.

Some people, like apples, have more seeds inside them then one could tell from the outside. Some people, like apples, have no seeds inside them.

Some apples are beautiful on the outside and mushy on the inside.

Some people, like apples, are uniform in their appearance but internally have bruises and bad spots unknown to the outside world.

Some people, like apples, look like the other in their family tree but taste radically different.

Some people, like apples, are crunchy, tart and juicy, while one that may appear to look the same is dry mushy and flavorless!

People like apples, can spoil in a group, some can remain for months in the cold and withstand the season. Ever seen just one apple hanging on a tree when the others have all fallen?

Apples, like people have the genetic material of the universe within them to create and share and provide for so many types of wealth, health and untold treasure!

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree." I know I am most like my parents, I am grateful for that. The growth of my family and development of my children is that of an apple tree, the strength and integrity that is within their seeds and DNA. I would hope the legacy I leave is that kind of pattern of integrity, honesty, hard work, love, faith, passion and dedication that they have given to me.

Apple juice, cider or hot apple totie(sp?) with wine, rum or whiskey? The power and versatility of the apple. Just like people. we can have flavors and characteristics when chemicals are added or our state is altered.

So apples it is! This day I am celebrating the apple in me. In my children, in my life and in my world. An apple a day!

Cooking with Pluto

There was this moment today that I thought I could see so clearly. I felt it was an easy no brainer kind of thing. Something I could accomplish all in a day's work. I knew what needed to be done, how to do it and when to make it happen.

Then this funny thing happened. I woke up! I was dreaming. Having a complete sense of clarity in the dream state had been such a relief. A refreshing break from this earth life. A fragment of time and space when everything seems so clear actually slipped right through my fingers.

Whatever it is that is happening is still happening. I can't name it, but I can feel it, smell it and taste it. I can, in every moment of my day. That transformation of my life to become a better life, a better me!

I think that I know the recipe, the time required should be shorter than prescribed but I am being patient. I have collected the necessary ingredients. They are accounted for and are making the seasoning right. I can feel the warmth around the concept. It is brewing in my heart and in my soul. Patience is a virtue. Experience is the teacher.

I wonder how it will turn out how it will work out and what pieces will move next in the molecular structure of what is to become my life. Anxious and excited. I am not allowing myself to think about the negatives, the sad, the problematic things. I am focusing on the dream, the positive and the journey. Too many years of self talk has kept me standing still. Frightened to move. Paralyzed to act. Having enough, knowing enough, being enough. Silly ol' self. I had it in me all along and now it is there is the mirror. Looking right back at me. I can see me and know that it is good, knowing, feeling and alive. It is all there just for me to have, to share, to create and to expand.

I used to worry a great deal about what others thought of me and their perspectives mattered a great deal. I worried about not measuring up to some ideal. I know it was a false ideal and it would have never been something I could have achieved because it wasn't my ideal.

So the recipe stands, ingredients added, temperature rising and time is passing. Just waiting on the results. I can smell it, I can imagine how it will taste and how it will feel. I am looking forward to it completion and the chance to know, feel and live this flavorful next meal.

Grateful for all that I have, all that I am and for what is to come next!

Lot 'o balls!!

So juggling was under-rated in my view until recently. I realized that much of my life requires a PhD in juggling. Juggling kids, work, home, crisis, friends, dating etc. I used to think the kids in high school who could juggle were nerds. Later in college drinking with friends I thought juggling was hilarious and just a party trick.

Now look at life, just juggling things hour by hour. Drive here, stop there, call this person, answer that email, what's for dinner?, we are out of peanut butter! Sigh!

Realizing the world turns and i am walking across it's face while juggling more balls than i know what to do with is somewhat daunting!

So juggling is truly an art to me now, knowing what I know. The other part of this wonderment is the "Lot's 'O Balls!" piece. The proverbial having balls. Guts, stamina and fortitude. I can be truly thankful for the knowledge that I have grown in many ways over the years. More ways than I wanted. Mostly braver. Having the courage to step outside of the box, think outside of the box and more importantly speak outside of the box. I couldn't have done that twenty years ago.

Time passes and I pick up another chance to grow, adding a ball literally to juggle, a ball to know my inner voice to be brave. When one drops i pick up another one, or two or three! Olympic juggling? Perhaps it is all as it should be in this Universe, juggling is our life skill! Getting balls is our requirement.

Thankful to know I juggle better with the lights on.

Just being

So this morning I awoke at 1:30 and felt like there was something I was supposed to do. I wasn't sure what it was so I just laid there thinking about my day the the random thoughts that darted in and out of my consciousness. I know the heaviness of my sinus infection was bothering me all night. I knew there wasn't enough water at my bedside to drink. I knew that today had to be something short of miraculous to have caused me to be so alert. I was excited.

I knew that the dog needed food, the car needed gas, the laundry needed folding, the floors needed a good sweeping. But what else was it that I was supposed to know? For that moment in time, the house was quiet. The world seemed safe from my view of the bedroom. I sat back with my back to the headboard. My feet were warm and toasty. I love that feeling. Cozy. I could hear the furnace kick on and the air blow through the vents in the floor. I could hear the stuffy breathing from my own nose. My mind was sharp and alert but I couldn't find the point of focus.

I thought about the warmth of the covers, the coolness of the night air that surrounded my home. I thought that it could have been one of those moments when I needed to check on my kids. Like the teacher and parent I have always been I felt a need to do a head count. Crawling out of be I realized the floor creaks under my feet. The dog raised his head to see where I was heading but remained at the foot of my bed, too warm to arise with me. Can't blame him really. He, like most animals must have had the sense of knowing that all was well.

I checked on the five year old, the 14 year old and of course the thirteen year old. All was well. All were in a warm bed breathing and dreaming their night away. They are safe and sound.

I turn to head back upstairs to bed and there it was, that sound that I only hear when I am moving slow enough up the stairs. the creak of my right knee. At each step and each bend I heard it. It feels like little bubbles in my knee. Just getting squeezed out and around with each step. "That my dear", I tell myself, "is your good knee!". The one that hasn't had three surgeries! I know it is there but don't hear it often. Maybe because I move to fast, or my world is too noisy. Maybe because I forget that I make noise even in my quietest times. Yes that is it!

Knowing my noise, hearing my self, identifying the things that make me...me! I reach the top of the stairs and crawl back into my warm bed. The dog doesn't move. The covers are still warm. My chilled toes are welcomed by the body heat that remained. Sigh! A sense of comfort, calm and safety for the moment. The best place to be. Just be. Listening, thinking and knowing that all is well and everything will work out. I will be. All will be. Trusting the Universe.

Thankful for my life, my loves, my family and especially for the knowing in this moment.

It is the collective that cares, drives and makes the cookies!

Did I know that was the case? Hell no! Here I am finding the collective rising.

The women that set the stage. The women that find the energy and those that have the drive and passion to see the truth, feel the force and know the difference.

To act upon the inspiration, to know the feeling is not just indigestion, PMS or goosebumps from a movie or commercial on the radio. Defining how we can set the world on it's tilt! It is certainly surprising, somewhat shocking and truly magnetic. Did Hollywood have it summarized when they said..."BUILD IT AND THEY WILL COME" in the movie Field of Dreams?

I am building it brick by brick, concept by concept and the encouragement of those around me and those within me and those that sing and resonate with me are giving me the guiding force and velocity to do just that! Build it so they will come!

The elements are the driving force, the basis for truth, the water that life force. The truth is that I don't have the recipe or the experience. I don't know the ingredients but am finding them along the way. Thankful to those experienced cooks, chefs and cookie maker extraordinaire!

Some nuts, some raisins some healthy stuff, some chewy stuff, some sweet, some hard to digest, some serious exercises in changing our metabolism. How dynamic it becomes when working with multiple cooks, chefs and talented people! Good cooks know what to do with them all!

The cookie face, the cookie ingredient, the cookie shape, the cookie result, the cookie marketing, all is crucially important to me and those I dream and will work with. The perfect balance, the perfect blend. The universe is in its full force, creating the best recipe ever! MMMM so warm, soft and yummy! Delectable and great with our milk teeth to take on in our young place of a journey.

Waiting on the bus!

I was just thinking that this all felt like waiting on the bus. I wondered if I watched up the road in the direction of the bus I would be prepared. Watched pots never boil right? That won't work!

How should I wait? Should I wait near the curb and run the risk of be splashed by the traffic in life? Should I stand a few feet away and listen to music or read my book? That might make the time pass but it surely won't help me be alert. Those in themselves are distractions that I might not be able to afford if I miss the bus completely and have to wait for it to come back by in another 263 years.

Will the bus be full? Will there be things that are inspiring? Things that are scary? Will it be a fast ride or a bumpy ride or a tediously laborious ride to the next stop? What passengers will accompany me? Will we talk to each other or just make awkward eye contact to acknowledge each other?

Listening for the bus. Recognizing that rush of warm air from the engine that warms me on a cold brisk morning. The smell of fuel leaks out and comes before the ride.

I know there is much to be patient for. I can hear my sister and even my own mother's voice telling me countless times..."patience is a virtue". Yes but it is not one that I am gifted with.

Darn that bus! I am ready to go! I have things to do and people to meet, lives to touch, things to change and adventures untold!

Between Time and Space: How far is the alarm clock from your bed?

Ha! It is Saturday morning, the alarm goes off at five a.m.! I know I turned it off, but I can't remember the act of doing it! The alarm was on my cell phone. I have another back up alarm three feet from the bed to ensure I don't sleep past 5:45 a.m. and risk the timeliness of duties for the day. Efficiency is my best master.

Rolled back over, looking out the window. Just thinking about the time I spend in bed, most of it sleeping since I don't get much down time. The problem with me is that when I get horizontal my consciousness usually spills out of me and I pass out. There I am un-conscious to the world. The kids find this the best time to approach me for the things they want that consciously, I would never agree to. Mom can you take me to target tomorrow? Can I have spacers put in my ears? A unconscious parent can agree to tattoos if they are too far gone into the horizontal plane trip.

I used to think sleeping was such a bore. Now it is surely been replaced on the trophy shelf by eating, cooking and cleaning. When I was 18 years old I couldn't be bothered to sleep. Now I find at the young age of 45 that sleep just happens, kind of like that bumper sticker that says "shit happens!". Yes I don't think about it. It just happens. Sometimes it happens on the couch, sometimes while watching t.v., sometimes at my desk staring at the computer. It just happens! I feel at this age so powerless to it. My body craves it and my mind caves without it.

So what happens when I don't sleep? Ohh now comes some interesting facts about me you may have not really known about! I growl, grind my teeth, walk harder, sigh deeper, dehydrate, obsess about trying to sleep and watch the clock! Maybe everyone does those things but to me they are not a part of my regular routine. I like NOT doing those things!

Speaking of watching the clock. Have you every realized that kids don't know the value of a minute, five minutes or even ten? Yes I will elaborate. I can tell my five year old that the bus will be here in five minutes. No effect. I can tell my thirteen year old that she needs to be ready in ten minutes...still no effect! But if it is raining and they call to find out my estimated time of arrival, then ten minute or even five minutes is a measure from another dimension!

I have accumulated this theory about teaching time to kids. As a teacher by training and a Mom by calling, teaching and teachable moments are a beautiful thing. Although grossly underpaid, all teachers create this vastly deep commitment to sharing things about the world and learning in a capacity of being unrewarded.

So back to my theory, as a child we have to learn what time is. Usually by marking the seconds that pass we can really comprehend time and internalize it. The moment when we have internalized ourselves to time we become accountable to the the world in a way that no longer allows for us to ever lose that accountability. So time out is a good thing. It allows us the opportunity to sit and know that time is passing. To notice the quiet of space. To notice the events that unfold around us without changing by our involvement. Marking time, when the teachers or Moms or Dads tell us to listen quietly, can you hear the second hands click? Can you hear the fan or motor of the refrigerator? Can you hear the sound of your breathing? Counting those breaths, those ticks, those clicks. That helps us develop a consciousness of a second, a moment, or a period of time. Now imagine if you couldn't hear the clock tick, the refrigerator fan/motor hum. What if you couldn't hear anything? That is my theory. That learning the sense of time is a difficult task for those who can not hear. Why is it that as old people we become late? Get lost in our thoughts? Is it because we are losing our hearing? Losing our time?

After working with deaf and hard of hearing children and their families for twenty years now I get this concept. I have to make time count for it self. To make time mark its own place in space. To teach the passage of time in alternative ways that are not acoustically dependent. Modeling this for parents and students has become a passion for me. The social stigma of being deaf and being late are in my mind because of this concept and this alone. It is a learned value that might have gone untaught. Sometimes this is an epiphany to parents and people. We don't think about the mechanics of the time and the passage of time in space. So many social constructs are contingent on time and our behaviors and management of our self within time. It's a myth...Time Management! We can't manage time. There really isn't time management per say but managing our behavior within time. It was grossly misnamed!

So here it is moments later, I am wondering how much time I can hear today pass by me. How much time I will consciously mark with thoughts actions and feelings that are positive and nurturing to those I love and myself. I will search out the quiet and mark the space with sounds, thoughts, feelings and actions. I will relish the weekend and the time and space between Friday and Monday! I will make this time and space a valuable experience for me and those I love.

Pluto and the.."Natural Woman"!

So there it is just staring me in the face. Sitting there as smug and happy as can be. The realization that my future is there to my shaping. How devastating! Exciting and scary all in the same moment! Where does this power come from? Why does it land near me? Should I do something with it? Is there a retaliation if I choose not to respond? Should I acknowledge it should I breathe through it?

Yes there it is. Pluto transitioning! Sigh! just knowing the power of that is daunting! It only happens every two hundred sixty some years! Dang! I am scared! It is influencing the things I have chosen to ignore. The things that have gone better off un-spoken! Shhh! It is just susposed to happen in its own way and the rest of the world will not even know the ship sailed. The planets moved and my Pluto shifted! Deeper sigh! Remembering to breathe. Thinking the influence of such an event can be paralizing, almost catastrophic. So we know the realm the moment the instrinsic peace to this movement?

So I was driving home in traffic and decided radio just wasn't enough! There I was pushing buttons and deciding to make the choice of CDs that were lodged into my six CD player for the era. (yes I sometimes am known to leave my favorties in there and not change them!) Then CD number six came up! Sigh! Shock! Here it was the piece that was missing to the complete comprehension of what was happening to me today, yesterday, the day before and tomorrow! Wait, holy hell, this was making sense to me, I suddenly knew what this meant. She sang to my heart, to my soul and to my consciousness that rocked me to laughter! Here is what it was!

Looking out on the morning rain,
I used to feel so un-inspired,
And when I knew I had to face another day,
Lord it made feel so tired.
Before the day I met you
life was so unkind,
You're the key to my peace of mind!
You make me feel,
You make me feel,
You make me feel like a natural woman.
When my show was in the lost and found,
you came along to claim it,
I didn't know just was wrong with me,
Till your kiss helped me name it,
Now I am no longer doubtful of what I am living for,
And if I make you happy I don't need to do more.
You make me feel,
You make me feel,
You make me feel like a natural woman.
Oh baby, what ya done to me?
Made me feel so good inside?
And I just wanna be,
Close to you make me feel so alive
You make me feel,
You make me feel ,
You make me feel like a natural woman!
Cause you make me feel
You make me feel
You make me feel
Like a natural woman
'Cause you make me feel
You make me feel
You make me feel like a natural woman

There it is, the song to Pluto transitioning! Should we applaud that Aretha Franklin went through the same thing? Should we know that she was that pioneer in women's worlds? Should we salute her or was it just the influence of Pluto? How astounding! How absolutely amazing! I laughed through the entire song! Is there a better place than through motown? Should there be more nobler? More humbler place to acknowledge this? Was she talking about the man of the moment of her life or the influence of a grater spirit or good? As my mom would say... "Irregardless(not a real word) it stands to reason!" Love that woman! How astounding! Humbling that we should find that moment of influence and recognize it for it's truest potential, powers and magnitude!
Sigh! There is much to do!
Looking out on the morning rain now(not in a studio but in my bedroom window) is bringing me a different meaning, a different perspective! A grander knowledge of what is in store for me and those I love deeply! I can feel it resonating! I am just an instrument!

Knowing oh.. baby what you've done for me.... I am thrilled and terrified!

Howling for crying out loud!

How is it that animals can howl? They completely understand their utterances. The wolves howl at the moon, into the woods and for each other. The coyotes howl when they are fearful, the dogs howl in harmony to an other's howling. Cat's howl in longing and want. Elk howl for warning and danger. As people, we need to howl now and then. There is great healing in howling. There is a primal piece to the howling ritual.

I love comedy. It allows me to howl in a socially appropriate way. Howling at my sense of what I find funny.

I howl when in pain. It allows my pain to become quiet while my soul focus' my energies on release.

I howl in sadness. When my brother passed, I howl in tears and with tidal waves of cries out loud. At the time it was a good thing that no one could hear me. That was such a private howl.

I howl in anger, coming home to find poop on the wall, on the toilet seat, on the bathroom counter, on my boy's hands, on the floor, on the bathroom rug. That howl frightened my children.

I howl is frustration when the lawn mower won't start, the tire is flat or when I am feeling powerless at the incidents in my life I am unable to problem solve.

Howling at the moon hasn't occurred yet. I am truly ruled by the moon. There is a wonder to the moon. I have not yet found my voice to howl at the moon yet. I am working on the resonating howl that allows me to do just that. Perhaps on my camping trip, that is just what I should do. Perhaps while sitting on my deck, when the fire is burning in the fire pit, then I should abandon the insecurities of my neighborhood association and let it out. Howl at it. Let the moon know I am here, I am listening, I am feeling, I am alive. This will be my signal to the forest, the culture and the ones who listen. From afar and from close by my heart. Yes, there is much howling to be done. Resolving to achieve this, being in the primal place of centered, grounded, aware and alive.

I've got a puppy, can't do any tricks.

Won't come when you call him.

Won't roll over, lick your face, fetch or heel.

But you know that I still love him.

He can howl at the moon with me- Awoooo

The only trick he knows- Aw Woooo

I laugh out loud each time he does it

I love him and it shows.

He can howl at the moon with me

Head thrown back, far as it goes

We'll howl together in close harmony

I love him and I think he knows- Awooooo

Warming up....mi, mi, mi, mi, mi, mi!

Who is that man?

Who is that man? The one that knows me and my calendar? The one that puts a spin on each month? The glowing one that draws my energy when I am nearest to him?

He can roll in and out of my life with subtle arrival. When I don't notice his presence I am humbled, puzzled and confused. He gives me the wink. That wink from across the universe that catches my consciousness, that gives me the "Ah- Ha" moment.

He has such power and influence. Such appeal. His impact on my world has been unfathomable.

I remember it the first time I was formally introduced to him. I remember the smells, the temperature, the moment that marked my life as a child.

I was wearing a flannel night gown. It was July 20, 1969. It was my fifth birthday. Yes at the tender age of five, he marked my life. The television was on and there it was.

"That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." Then it was complete. A flag placed in an austere location that would change my life and the life of civilization for an eternity.

Each month goes by with the typical amount of fanfare. Each month is packed with busy-ness. Coming and going, worrying, planning, struggling to predict the future of what I have influence over. The daily hustle becomes a buzz.

Then it happens. That wave of emotion. I am stunned. Stunned at my feelings and my lack of ability to comprehend. I have lost my awareness in the hustle and bustle of my daily running. What sadness, helplessness and that feeling of powerless ability. Thinking in that moment, scrambling to find the root of this feeling. It is just as I had forgotten...that man of mine. That man in the moon. That tether to my heart and soul. The one that sings empathic to my inner most being.

I look upon him. Then it happens as easily as before. Yes,Just one look. Yes, just one moment before the acuity and clarity surfaces. His face is calming to me in the storm of emotions that wrack my soul. A deep breath brings me back. Everywhere on this earth there are billions of souls that are tethered by him. I am not alone. There is a greater power that is minding the universe. I am again at peace in knowing. Reflecting the place I have been and the places I will go. I am grateful, scared and taking my next breath and step.

They say fish gotta swim, and birds gotta fly.

I'm gonna love that man till the day I die.

Can't help lovin' dat man of mine.

They tell me he's lazy, they try to tell me he's slow.

Tell me he's crazy, but maybe I know.

Well, but I just can't help lovin dat man of mine.

Oh, when he goes away, that's a gloomy day.

And when he comes back I know the sun is gonna shine.

He can come home just as late as can be.

'Cause home without a man is just no home to me.

Can't help lovin dat man of mine.

Tugging my heartstrings with his ways. Understanding how my soul feels when I am thinking of the man, the man in the moon.

Chances are...

There are days when I wake up just thinking...NO MORE! No more, working so hard, explaining things again to a curious stranger, no more traffic, no more juggling bills and life, no more being so hard on myself, no more fear of not being good enough, smart enough or pretty enough. No more dating, no more trying to meet someone to spend the rest of my life with that is that perfect match, just balanced for the areas that keep things in perspective.

No more second chances, third chances, fourth chances or fifth chances. I am tired. I am sure there is not enough. Then silence sits in my head. Just when I hear that thought in my head, this tiny crazy miracle thing happens. Somewhere, in my heart, there is a jolt of compassion and love. Compassion, for myself, for my trials, for my family, for my friends, for the people I work with everyday. Enough compassion for the stranger at the store who asks innocently about my child. Enough compassion for the traffic, the weather, the time of the month. Just enough to make it through another day. Just enough to know that somehow in this vast universe that I have been given another chance. or just enough to keep going.

Having enough to do what is next. Having enough mercy and compassion seems like a gamble. There is always another chance. Another chance for everything in my life. My optimism jumps. The meter on my heart is reved. There it is. That crazy feel of super human life. Standing up from the bed, I can see myself in the mirror. I don't look like superwoman. Do I really feel like super woman? Am I listening to myself or just that nutty Pollyanna kind of voice in my head that wants everything to be alright? No it is me the real me. The one who remembers the past and yet keeps it there in perspective. The one who remembers the trials and the aches from defeat. Oh yes that was me. I was there. All along trudging through. Carrying my load and telling myself I would be so strong, so valiant, so wise, so loving, if I just kept going. Hmmm, what baggage was picked up along the way?

At one point the second, third, fourth and twelfth chances ran out. My heart was broken. There was no more room. scar tissue built up to the degree that I couldn't open it up again. So sad to be in that spot. It took two years to see that there is still room in my life for that kind of love. It still feels like a gamble and feels as if there is a typical run of high stakes and low stakes on any given day. Patience and Trust. Those two don't seem like good gambling buddies. Maybe they are? Maybe, just maybe they are exactly what is required to be a high stakes winner?

There is much to learn on this time around the bend. Healing and growing. forgiveness always has to be given to myself first. Then it seems like there is enough for others.

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can! Chug, Chug!

Too much or too little?

Is it the moment of epiphany that strikes us calm, quiet and mindful? Or is it the act of a reaction in the events of our lives?

Everyday the balance becomes tremendous. This goes here and that goes there. These things await and these people are in need. I must listen and I must speak.

So the quote from the week that sat with me and caused me to stew..."We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled. The trick is knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out." -Ray Bradbury

I know I feel as if it is trivial at times but still I wonder about it. Is the glass half full? Half empty? Too much coming in or just not enough capacity to handle it all?

The glass is half full for me. Knowing I am half way into my journey. Knowing I have much to come. Much to be realized. Much to learn.

There is not too much coming! I know that I need to expand my capacity to handle the journey. My glass needs to grow. My cup needs to expand. Then I will be ready.
There isn't a moment of ready. Like becoming a parent or growing up. It is not a marked moment in readiness. We just become along the way.

Now the process, the journey. Learning to spill, and share and allow for the flow of things in and out of my life. No control. Just in the moment of being. Allowing the talent, love and hurts and fears to be. Allowing them the place in time and space. Not controlling, but allowing the Universe to do it's job and for me and my journey to do mine. Knowing nothing will remain the same. The capacity to fulfill our purpose! Breathing into the belly. Knowing the place is just as it should be and the time is exactly what it was designed for. Hoping for nothing and being overwhelmingly surprised at the outcome. Whatever it may be.

Trusting the seconds that pass and are marked by sounds around me. Sounds within me and the thoughts that narrate my moments. How powerful this place is! Wowed by the presence of this thought.

So you think, "this is too deep!" Not so much. Just thinking about the kids growing, the work of everyday life, the connection between the people I love and their journeys. It is just what is quietly running when there is silence from the hum pf the television, conversations, road noise, worries, constant internal dialog, thoughts popping (literally) into my mind. Making the worries take their place. Granting the right order, place and value to what they should be. Remembering the purpose of this blog. Just acknowledging the pinnacle for me to obtain and direct myself.


Looking to the awakening. Trying to remember the dream.

What is that smell?

The other night I came home to a smell that any parent dreads. The smell of poop. I walked into the house to be odor assaulted by the smell. I look and reacted like a sea anemone in a fraction of a second actually. There he was my son covered in poop! Trying frantically to clean it up. My question was ..."where is the sister in charge?" "Why did this get out of control as compared to any other time?" But the most important question was the one that to this day, three days later, I can not answer! HOW DID HE GET POOP ON THE WALL IN SUCH A MANNER?

After cleaning it all up and taking care of the rest of the issues. I laughed. I cried and was angry at myself, my angry outburst at my teenager, my chosen words of affection, my burst of disgust and disdain for cleaning poop.

Had to go out for a walk. There were tons of thoughts running through my mind. My heart was racing from the event of Poop du jour and the pace at which I went for a walk.
Wait there was a another smell. That dusty smell that reminds me of back to school. The smell of decomposing leaves. I paused for a moment to look up at the young maples that lined my street. Yes, it was happening. Fall was really here. The maple leaves were changing colors. They were falling to the ground and I was walking through them. I love fall as it is such a monumental season of change for me. Always seems to have been. Summer is great fun and winter is comfy, while spring is full of promise. Fall on the other hand is change, a promise of things changing, something different. Different in myself, in my thoughts, in my days, in my loved ones. Different is a good experience for me. I love the colors. the smell, the cool sunshine. The longer nights. Comfy sleeping with cooler nights, windows cracked open. Thick comforters, to spring out of on quick days. While on those cool Saturday mornings I can enjoy hiding in my fluffy bed. Warm and toasty.
I loved the days the kids would climb in to my bed and snuggle. Those days are long gone. The attraction of Mom's bed is now replaced with their own bed, the Saturday morning cartoons and activities that draw them into other places and journeys in their lives.

The smell of warm soft kids in pajamas. Wonder and love when they lay next to me and ask why there are white tiny hairs on my face. Their wonder and love for listening to each others heartbeats. Hmm. Miss that.

So I will head out this morning mindful of the smells, the smells that are around me. The change, the change that I feel and see, and the blessings each of what those things bring to me.
Grateful for the day and all its promise. Mindful of the smells of home and the road.

The Comet...

Have you ever seen a comet? Have you ever felt the presence of a comet in your life? The wonder of something outside of our realm interacting with us without the ability to influence it? Just stand by and watch it buzz through your atmosphere. Knowing its influence on you and your world is likely great or small and infinitely impacting each nerve and neuron.

There are three things that can happen as a result of two objects being pulled toward each other because of gravity:

1. They escape from each other.

2. They crash into each other.

3. They orbit each other.

Watching this happen, knowing the outcome potential, we are destined to wait. Like a birthday, you know it is coming, you anticipate the best, yet no one knows for sure how the strength of the moment will define it. We can think positively and hope that our knowing will influence the outcome.

People are like comets, escaping, crashing or orbiting. We come into each other's lives or orbits to allow for the growth experience.

The speed that we experience this is directly related to the energy we put out and into the moment.

Particles surround each comet, asteroid or meteor. Particles like baggage and suitcases, will change the weather. Particles will change the sunset. Particles will induce thoughts and emotions to the unsuspecting and even to the most suspecting. Still we are not able to predict for the outcome if energy is involved.

This past weekend was like riding a comet. I felt like I was running a million miles an hour, reacting and crashing and avoiding. Not to mention the particles were brilliant. I sit back now and gawk at the tail of the comet. Knowing it is glowing and lighting and changing everything it comes into contact with. What great power to be able to influence such things as time, space and the miracle of humanity. How incredible to see the impact and influence of one rock, a mass of particles, surrounded by energy and dust particles create everything from a ripple effect that will carry on a trillion years into the future. Observe and know even the great influence and impact will change the now and the future. The sunset and our perception of it. The chemistry and our reaction to it. The influence and our receptivity to it. Makes one feel infinitely small and minuscule.

Knowing the power of a particle is in our grasp. The ability to influence and drive even the smallest piece of matter into any one's life is daunting.

How do we respond to the energy of each other? Are we seeing this influence? Are we acknowledging the depths and presence of each person? Acknowledging the possible three things that could have happened between us as comets? Taking a deep breath. Knowing what I now can not control. Seeing the piece of energy I can contribute, feeling the grand scheme of the world, life, society and its purpose.

It is a wonder to me. Starring at it. Starring at the people in my life. Seeing their glow.

Sometimes starring is a compliment...even to a comet!

Racers start your engines....

"In calmness there should be activity, in activity there should be calmness."

-Anonymous

I am looking at my planner and thinking about the tasks ahead for the next four days. How will I balance this? Juggle that? Learn, listen and live?

The will to do my best and make a difference in the world will keep me tethered.

I am grateful for wonderful people and the supports I have to make things work and to make a difference in the world. Some days I feel as if there isn't much to be proud of and then it will happen. A minute or a flash of a few seconds I will recognize the impact things in my life have on others, in ways I never imagined. I am humbled then. It is like a shot in the arm. Not running in circles. Someone was listening. The universe responded with that validation. I put out there then it came back.

Now to keep the momentum. This weekend will be very busy. I will be in and out of the house and office all weekend. The kids will see me in passing on some days. This is a weekend that I wished I had a partner to help them and be with them while I had my other duties. I am grateful for all that I have. And on some days all that I don't have!

I am pedaling as fast as I can.