One Moment At A Time

I was born in the early 60's. A few months before JFK was assassinated and a year before the Beatles came to America. In those days home was real, it was safe and it was as tangible as the apron around my mother's waist.

Now here I am half a century later, the world around me bears very little resemblance to the world in which I grew up.

I find myself grieving over those years- those easy days that now seem so very far away.  I remind myself - a lot- that you can't stop progress and while today's technological advances seem very foreign to my generation, they do have some merit. The advances in health care and medicine for one, have no doubt made the world a healthier place. The ability to communicate with virtually anybody- anywhere-at anytime has made life less lonely and the access to the world wide web has literally brought knowledge to our very doorsteps.

Yet with all of these 'advances' I admit, I'm restless and mistrusting of things that otherwise look friendly.  I often feel homesick for those simpler days when letters were handwritten and books had paper pages.

To ward off those blue days- those depressing moments when I feel that today's world and its many advances are passing me by, I stop and realize I still have an advantage. I have experienced things that have made my life rich and even if I often feel left behind in today's quickly changing society I can be thankful for the memories I have and the places I've been.

I am thankful for my family- dysfunctional though they were (are ) they were real and they were present.

I've been loved by a good man who was my father and by 2 grandmothers with hugs as calming as the homemade quilts they wrapped around us. I'm thankful that I was given a love of books and for knowing the rich, musty smell of a library. May they ever be a town staple.

I'm thankful for the days of youth, playing kickball with friends from the neighborhood and the feel of grass on my bare-feet.

I've been lucky to have eaten a sun-warmed, ripe tomato while standing in the garden dirt, my feet and elbows covered in mud and tomato juice.

I've had good pets- loyal dogs and funny birds that made me laugh with their tricks and whistles.

I've been a bride in a white dress, holding my dad's hand as he nervously walked me down the aisle.

I've known the feel of a tiny life growing inside my body and felt that fiercely protective fear that comes with being a mom.  I've looked into the eyes of my newborn babies and felt them feeding at my breast.

I've watched storms blow up over the Gulf of Mexico and felt the furious wind of a hurricane. I've swam in the ocean, in muddy ponds and icy rivers. I've laughed till I cried and I've cried till I've laughed.

I've had silent prayers that were answered and have seen things that can only be labeled as miracles. I've seen the hand of God in a mountain, and lost my breath over fields of sunflowers swaying under the hot Kansas sun.

I've danced under the stars with the man that I love and together we have watched the sun rise and set over the Rio Grande . I have slept on a cot in the desert under an inky New Mexico sky and in humbled awe stood at the rim of the Grand Canyon. I saw the flooded Mississippi Delta as the muddy waters consumed everything in her path. 

I've breathed the cool air of the Appalachian mountains surrounded by misty morning fog. And I've left a foot print in a glacier on a Rocky Moutain in Montana. 

In South America I stared at the wild poinsettias that grew as tall as trees and provided shade for the dirt floor huts beneath them.

I have taken a stand for causes that moved me and have argued my opinions with educated minds but also, I've debated issues and have had my mind changed, and my eyes opened.  I've had my heart broken by things I couldn't control and mistakes I could never correct. 

I've made angels in the snow and castles in the sand and I've watched shooting stars leave trails across the sky.

I was there when my grandson took his first breath and I held my sister's hand when she took her last.

I've had friends that loved me in spite of myself and whose shoulders have held me as I've sobbed.

I've danced on a stage and sang in front of a crowd and I've spoken to people about the mysteries of the world. I've been wealthy and I've been poor and have given food to the hungry and have had food given to me when it was my pantry that was bare.

Yes as I age I have became an unwilling member of yesterday's generation.  I realize that I have had my moments in the sun and now as I watch my children and their children grow up in a world that I can't save them from, I will still smile at dogs, and birds and the sun and I will tell them that life is not made up only of the good times, the easy days or the happy memories. I will teach them - my children -that to live fully means to embrace every moment- even the dark ones.   I will still believe in miracles and will speak for causes even if nobody hears me.  I will show them that life is a masterpiece and every event, every person creates a brush stroke on the canvas of our lives. I want them to know that even the most lovely of creations must contain some dark colors. This is life, this is living and this is what makes us who we are.

August 12, 2017 at 3:35 pm I lost my sister. Gwen had been sick for a long time. She had battled -alone- for the most part a devil that had no name. For too many years to count, a trail of doctors put her through agonizing tests, mountains of medicines and with only educated guesses at best- empty diagnosis after empty diagnosis. My sister so beautiful- so fearless- so funny and sweet died by degree over a period of years that most of us will never be able to count.  Gwen had a beautiful spirit- carefree and passionate- she loved babies and old people and animals and family.
It was in May- not very many days after her 59th birthday that she went to the hospital. She was so ill and in so much pain she could barely walk. She was on life support within a week and she lingered that way for another seven. She couldn't speak, or eat or respond- she couldn't move from the neck down. If all of this wasn't bad enough inside that very sick, immobile body she could still feel pain. I squeezed her foot once and she grimaced.  She was trapped in the body that had carried her through life's adventures but  that had now betrayed her.
My sister's beautiful curly hair began falling out. Her hands and face were so swollen I wouldn't have known it was her laying in that bed if someone hadn't told me.
I sat beside her- talking to her, begging her not to leave, begging her to blink if she could hear me. Hour by hour I prayed for a word or a sign or a miracle. She would occasionally open her eyes- those crystal blue pools so much like our dad's- and she would look straight at me. Twice she tried to talk but the respirator and tracheotomy had stolen her ability to make words. I still wonder what she was trying to say. I will never stop wondering what she was trying to tell me.
I sang to her, I read to her. I prayed with her. As gently as possible I rubbed lotion on her cracked feet and legs and hands and arms- the edema so severe I was afraid she would burst. I washed her face and put chap stick on her cracked, bloody lips. I thought of the times over the years that she had cared for me when I was sick or sad or hurt and I prayed she could feel the love in my touch as I tried with all my might to give back even a thimble full of the care she had given me over the years.
Sometimes at night I would put music on my phone - soft, soothing- spiritually uplifting music- the kind Gwennie loved most- gently I would put one earbud into her ear and the other into my own and side by side we would listen to the words of the songs that I knew she loved and believed.
And we cried. More than once tears fell from her indigo eyes and rolled down her cheeks. My tears soaked her hands as I held them against my face praying that just one more time I would feel the touch of the sister who had always been there for me.
Did I mention that in my selfishness, many times I cried, sobbing out loud -begging her not to go, not to leave me here.  I would yell her name and force her to wake up and to look at me and when she did I pleaded,  I wasn't ready to live without her. I told her there were so many things I still needed her to teach me- things I needed her to explain, things only my big sister would understand. I begged her not to leave. She looked right at me and she stayed.
When the day came and I realized she wasn't going to get better. Not ever. The doctors had given up on any quality of life and even if her heart kept beating- she would never walk- or talk- or move or hug. I told her that night- it was okay. That I knew she was suffering and that we would all be okay. I told her to run to dad. She had been moved to a different hospital by this time and strangely- ironically- she was in the exact same room where our dad had taken his last breath after a massive stroke. I believed he was there. I believe that when she closed her eyes in precious moments of rest,  she was holding his hand and talking to him.I told her to go with him. It wasn't that I didn't want her to stay- but rather I didn't want her to suffer...go Gwennie- go with dad. And finally- after over 8 weeks on life support, she picked up her head one last time and shook it left and right- she was saying "no- she couldnt stay" The next day she was gone.
Watching my sister die was horrible, and it took something out of me. It was more than horrible if there is anything worse than that and even now, I still see her face when I close my eyes. I see her looking at me with love, trying to ease the grief that she knew was inevitable for those of us left behind.
I can't for the life of me figure out why my sweet, caring sister had to endure such a horrible hellish death. People tell me I'm fearless and capable and I want to scream that I'm not- and that anything 'good' in me came from her. I never doubted Gwen's love for me. I had taken it for granted for so many years and now that she's gone, I am racked with guilt and sadness and unworthiness that the most beautiful one has died and I'm still here. I still feel her presence sometimes when the sobbing in my heart gets quiet. I hear her saying "its okay sissy. I'm okay and it really is beautiful here, and the sun shines all the time."
I miss you Gwen Ellen and I suspect I will never stop. I know you're with Dad and Grandma and Aunt Dee and I know that you my amazing sister, are more alive than ever. But I just cant wait to see you again and to hear you laugh as you say "Hi Sissy, welcome home".

The Opposite of Love

"The opposite of love is...." this morning I woke up with this unfinished, incomplete sentence bouncing around in my mind. I'm not sure why it was there or where it came from. Maybe it was simply seeing the sad and dismal state our world is in. The way we judge and try to destroy  anyone/everyone different than ourselves. Maybe it was the realization that within a few weeks, I will hold my newest grandson in my arms and look into his perfect, tiny face and imagine his future in such a world. Maybe it was a combination of both.  But I couldn't shake it, this fragmented sentence with no ending. "The opposite of love is...?"

 We've all heard the opposite of love is hate and they are basically two sides of the same coin. But I'm talking deeper than that. Deeper than just the measurable weight of the emotion - yes hate would be the right answer for that but what emotion, what substance leads us to love and then to hate?

While I was mediating on this, I began asking myself who or what do I  detest?   If you know me then you know I'm a peacenik and I try to never, ever use the word "hate". But there is one thing- one creature that even the mention of the word causes me to want to reach for a shoe. Spiders. The nasty, 8-legged little buggers make me crazy and yes I  could say that I hate them.
(Hi, I'm Linda a confirmed Arachnophobe) <~ Insert random confession here...sigh.

 Recently, one morning in the shower, I saw a dime sized black spot scurrying across the wall. A freaking spider in the shower with me is NOT how I like to start my day. Using my best Tae-Kwon-do moves I slapped, chopped and blocked the invader until I squashed him. I felt so accomplished!  It wasn't until I had finished my shower and put on my glasses that I realized I had most definitely and completely smashed the life out of a piece of the label from my shampoo bottle...oy vey! So much for feeling accomplished. My hatred of spiders now seemed pretty ridiculous. I felt silly.

 I started thinking, maybe people who are different than us- cause the same feelings. Fear-panic- like an itch inside that we can't quite scratch. We see someone that looks, or sounds different and we're afraid of what that difference might do to us. So we push them away- we smash them- at least in our minds and sometimes sadly-in literal terms. Our fear makes us certain they're here to hurt us (true or not) and suddenly we feel threatened. We rise up and take a defensive stance- feeling justified in squashing them with our shoes.   But realize this- its not the spider er uh.. person that drives us but our own fears. We want the fear to stop. We want the offense, the threat of danger- real- or perceived- to go away and the only way to do this is to remove the person, place or thing from our lives. Like spiders.  
I challenge you today, and I'm challenging myself as well, to realize if anything is going to stop the madness in the world, if there is any single one thing that every one of us can do to change the future it's this- stop the smashing and start understanding. Or at least stop judging.
Yes, very soon I'll joyfully hand over a piece of my heart to my new grandson. I'll hold his tiny hands and count his itty-bitty toes and I'll  pray over him and his future.  I'll pray he grows up in a world filled with peace and love and all those things this hippy grandma finds important. I'll do my best to teach him that the the opposite of love isn't hate- not really, not way down deep. I'll teach him that my own hatred  fear of spiders isn't because of anything THEY do, but it's because of the way I feel when I see them and how it's my own arachnophobia that makes me want to use my best karate moves to destroy them but in so doing, I just might hurt myself.  

So, yea, my little grandson the opposite of love is related to hate. But if hate were a tree-it's root would be fear. And we can change the future- his future- their future by not letting those roots get started.
Accept. Allow. Love.  I'm not saying adapt, but I am saying- don't judge.
Be true to yourself but know that not everything you see is here to hurt you. Yea, even those creepy crawly things with 8 legs have a place, a right, a purpose.

Namaste my friends. Be at peace. Be happy. Be the change. Be love.

Bitter-Sweet Love

Exactly 90 days ago Steve and I started a journey without a clue as to where we were headed. We knew the Universe was urging- no scratch that- the Universe was PROPELLING us forward, outward, westward. That was all we knew. In faith as raw as a burlap sack we trusted that the Creator of Heaven and Earth was leading us- we took the only step we saw- the only single step we were sure of and lept into HIS arms. We sold almost everything we owned, loaded our car and our dog and our tent and we drove. With no certain course, with very little money and a few camping supplies we did all that we knew to do- we drove.
 Within a few weeks it became obvious to us both that Montana was our next destination. My sister Paula and her husband Rick lived there and they had been taking care of my mother who had been diagnosed with dementia a number of years ago and now the dementia had turned into full blown Alzheimer's. Paula and Rick were tired, exhausted from the constant care-taking of Mom and their jobs and taking care of their 'off-grid' property down a  beautiful, untamed 9 mile dirt road in Northwest Montana. They needed help. We headed there.
Now, 90 days later- we are here. Staying in the loft of their cozy, comfy home. Enjoying fresh veggies, cool well water and the breath-taking Montana scenery that has been called "God's Backyard".

I work 3 days a week in a nearby town and the rest of the week I stay at home and take care of Mom. It's strange that I'm here, It's strange because Mom and I haven't been close for a very long time.  A family rift had torn us apart and we hadn't even spoken for more years than I can count.
When I realized that this was to be our next step- our next stopping point...I admit there was a part of me that was hoping and yearning for a healing to occur between Mom and I .  The child inside of me was peering through the "mom-shaped" hole in my heart that had been there for most of my life. The Child me was jumping in anticipation of finally- and at last- to hear my Mom say the things I had for so long, needed to hear from her.  " I love you. I'm proud of you. I'm glad you're my daughter."

When we got to Montana, I was saddened to see that Mom's dementia had progressed way past the point of being able to have any type of meaningful conversation. I saw only a faint shadow of the woman my Mama used to be still remained. In her place was a frail, weak, little woman who was often scared of something she could never quite verbalize. My heart ached as I realized with a certainty as clear as the creek that runs through the mountains around us, the disease had taken her away,  taken away most memories, names, faces and taken away any chance for the reunion I had so hoped for.
Yea, that healing? That apology? That returning home?   It can't happen. It can NEVER happen. Mom rarely knows my name, much less that I'm her daughter. She calls me her sister sometimes but most times I'm just "that girl".
 I know I will never hear those words from Mom that I ached to hear.  The reunion won't happen. The child-me, crept back to her hiding place inside of me. I wept. I wept for the years that had passed, for the words we'd never said, for the happy ending that will always only be a dream.  I wept for lost time. I wept for my Mom.
So here we are, caught up in a daily routine that is completely foreign to Steve and I. Each day the sun still rises.  I still do my best to help Mom remember things- places- songs. We look at photographs and I talk about old times. I brush her hair and clip her nails and I try to love her as tenderly as I know how, praying that somehow she will feel how much I love and miss my mama. She loves to sing and laugh and be silly. We hug often and I tell her every day that even if she doesn't know my name or who I am- to remember that I am "that girl" that loves her. I am learning that loving somebody who can never give you anything back, someone who may not even know who you are- is  a bitter but sweet experience.  I am healing.  My heart is healing. The child in me sees and knows and hears that truly loving someone means loving them without expectation or condition. I hope somewhere in my mama's fractured mind she sees me. I hope she feels safe and cared for and loved.
I hope that at some moment, some fleeting time - even if just for a second- the window of her memories will allow her to recognize me and to know that in spite of the bad years, the splintered time and the wounds that never healed- I hope she knows that in the end- I came. That I am here for her. Not out of expectation or duty or desperation- but out of pure and simple love .
I love you Mama, from "that girl who sings with you while we wash the dishes". I love you.

Home

Some twenty years ago or so when my babies were really babies, I volunteered at a Rescue Mission.   Several of the volunteers in the mission thrift store where I was usually stationed, were also residents of the shelter. Some folks were there every couple of weeks for a day or two and some were just passing through - but others were more long-term and consistent residents of the mission's residential program.  One stoop shouldered, gray haired man in particular had a reputation for being a little left of normal- as in crazy and unpredictable, We called him "Mr. C'.  The other volunteers avoided Mr. C because he loved to talk but often his words were little more than incoherent syllables or incomplete sentences. You couldn't avoid him nor could you predict what he would say or do and most of the volunteers were afraid of his unpredictability!  I wasn't sure why he was at the Mission or what his story was, but sometimes his words were wise and profound. It was obvious at some time in his life Mr C had been an educated man and I felt sorry for him, this strange little fellow with the mismatched clothes and ill fitted shoes.
One day  as I was volunteering he came in the front door - looked left and right and then made a bee line - straight in my direction.  It was as if he had me in his field of vision and he crossed the creaky wooden floor in his worn out shoes with purpose- stopping directly across from me.  Without greeting but looking me squarely in the eye Mr. C simply blurted out "Words are containers. They always contain meaning".
That was it. End of message. Just as quickly as he had appeared, he turned and shuffled away.

"Words are containers" I have digested those words for these many years and I think I have finally understood what Mr. C was trying to say.

Words are containers like Tupperware bowls or pickle jars- and they always contain, carry, deliver something.   If words are containers- and I believe they are- then every time we speak or write- we deliver something. That's why choosing the right words are so important and so  achingly critical.
As a writer I agonize over every. single. word. I want to be completely certain that anyone who hears or reads my assorted blatherings - receives just the message I intended. Being misunderstood is one of my biggest fears and I feel responsible if /when misunderstandings happen,  the "I shoulda-coulda-woulda-said-it-like-this" kind of thinking torments me to the core.
So where is all of this leading? What does Mr C and his old shoes and bizarre behavior have to do with me today? And more importantly you my friend and reader? It's all about our words and the importance of using them correctly, of understanding them succinctly and how using them or not understanding them can cause havoc in our psyches! I started this post with a particular word in mind "HOME"..a small word with an enormous meaning. Let me see if I can put this all together...

It's been 2 months since we left Florida and the place that Steve and I called home. That place is very far away now- in miles as well as time.  I have alternated between euphoric wanderlust and petrifying fear of the thought of being home-less. It's been a roller coaster of emotions and I can't say it's been entirely painless, it wasn't. It's been scary as hell and I have spent much time praying & meditating to find peace of some sort to soothe me. I'm making progress.
HOME I am learning, isn't a place. It's a feeling and we carry it inside of us.  HOME is our refuge, a sanctuary, that place where we feel loved and safe and accepted. Did you get that? Home is a feeling of unconditional love-acceptance-safety. Your address- that building where you store your stuff and park your car might be the most beautiful place on earth but if you are not with people you love and people who love you- you might as well be in a box under a bridge.

Home you can argue IS a place- and well yes maybe so but it's a place without a mailbox or an address or garden gnomes.  It's not a place that the mortgage company or the realtor sells you. Home can't be purchased with money or good credit and can never- not ever - be taken from you- not even in foreclosure! Home is a place inside of us.

To be 'home-less' then means to be untethered, disconnected from everyone around you. Homelessness is a condition of the soul, of the heart, of the spirit. It's not being without a roof or garden gnome but rather it's being without refuge or safety or unconditional love.
So let me put the lid on my pickle jar - I mean my words - and sum it up by saying this...
just as the outer physical brick and mortar buildings are NOT the CHURCH or just as the WHITE HOUSE is NOT the Government...neither is your address your true HOME.
That place, your place, your HOME- lies somewhere inside you- its someplace you carry with you wherever you wander and some place where at any moment you can stop and smile and cherish the faces and voices and memories that occupy your heart, your home, your sanctuary.



Namaste' my friends. Peace for every step of your journey.

Lost or Found? or Both...

Twenty-six days....has it really been just 26 days? I look back over the dozens of pictures we've taken from the last three weeks and I can hardly remember a day when we weren't traveling. Not long ago a typical day for us started with coffee, walking the dog, checking email -the schedule for the day ahead- a shower-dressed and then facing the world. 

My my my how  quickly things do change! A typical day for us now means waking up- getting my head around where we are, I mean I usually know 'basically' where we are- the South- the Mid-West - the deep West or some place in between. But more often now our morning conversations go something along the lines of " Good  morning! Where are we and what day is it?" . 

 Life on the road we have found, has a way of setting it's own rhythm and we are definitely not in charge of the way it ebbs and flows. Like the rivers we've crossed and the many sunrises we've seen- the steaming ball of orange and yellow and sometime brilliant red- stirs the Earth and everything under it and we rise to face the new offerings that the day and the Universe has planned for us.

 From the first day- those few weeks ago, I have wept my way across America- not tears of sadness really but more tears of humility, of finally seeing for myself- the breathtaking-supernatural beauty around us.  I cry every time I look at canyons or boulders or rivers that have a force and a face and a presence of their own. They don't ask anyone for permission to grow or crumble or shine or rain. Nature needs no permission- she just does what she does when she sees the need and now we see that we are all a part of that on a daily basis.

 Some days ago we landed in Texas' Palo Duro Canyon, a storm came up along the canyon rim. I watched and wept from the canyon floor as a rainbow stretched itself across the sky. A double rainbow- going from lilac to indigo-to brilliant gold- I was moved. It was awe inspiring.

In Arizona Steve and I held hands as tears the size of the desert sun rolled down my face and soaked my shirt. There were just no words to describe the amazing landscapes around us and to KNOW that the hand that created all of this- the hands that can take a boulder and make a mountain, that makes ordinary rain grow into flowering trees or shrubs so that the crawling-creeping or flying beings can quench their thirst. The hands that rock the Universe are the same hands that take care of me and you and us and them.

It's overwhelming to imagine the power and fury that it takes to carve a canyon- is also carving and rearranging me...how can I not be touched.

There's so much I'm learning. There are so many things bubbling inside of me The Creator is still lovingly and gently leading us. Of this we are sure. We knew this last week when Steve and I both came down with a nasty version of the Flu as we camped along the banks of the Rio Grande. We were seriously ill with high fevers, relentless coughing, nausea and other symptoms which we won't go into! We made it for three nights before we were had to abandon our beautiful camping spot and find a hotel nearby. We slept for two days and finally emerged from our sick beds and continued our journey West. We're ok. We're stronger and wiser and what a great story we have to tell! The Universe makes a fine physician.

Today we make ready to head more North than West. Unless we want to go to California today, we will likely end up somewhere around Salt Lake City tonight. But ...every day is a winding road and as my wise and funny traveling companion just reminded me " The sun is up- you are now free to move around the Country". 

Keep the faith my friends. You are not alone. Whatever lovely part of this spinning blue planet you are riding- I challenge you to imagine for just a second that the hands that created the world around you- also created YOU! And of all the beautiful, random, purposeful miracles that have ever been created- YOU ARE ONE OF THE MOST AMAZING!

Namaste my peeps- remember to be kind to everyone you meet today, for we are all connected in this ride called life- together!

Week 1 and We're Off!

Good morning World! I'm writing this from the comfy-welcoming living room of my long time friends Leigh Anne & Bob Boyington. Leigh Anne and I have been friends for over 30 years. We laughingly say that we are living parallel lives as there are so many things we have in common it's sometimes scary! More on that in a sec...

This past Monday we headed North from what has been our Florida home - everything was sold, cleaned, paid, and settled. The camry ( now known as the CAMP-RY) was loaded with our supplies, Steve & I of course our dog Jacks!  First stop Alabama where we camped at the most beautiful and serene setting this side of heaven- Ft Toulouse National Park. Ft Toulouse is just south of Wetumpka where the Coosa and Tallapoosa rivers meet to form the headwaters of the Alabama River. The campground is on a bluff overlooking the Coosa river, shaded by 100 year old southern oaks donning shaws of spanish moss. I could have stayed there forever. 

 After the trauma of last weeks downsizing, Ft Toulouse was just the place for a few days of quiet reflecting.

 

Mid-week we had commitments in Southern Alabama and made the jaunt back south. The weather was most uncooperative- heavy rains, winds and possible tornados...Leigh Anne graciously offered to let us stay with her.

As I'm writing this I am surrounded by the treasures she and Bob and their children have acquired over a lifetime of marriage and friendship. It's bittersweet to see each item on their bookshelves and walls and to know that behind each carefully displayed treasure is a memory of a happier day...you see Bob lost his battle to cancer last month. Leigh Anne and their children are on a journey of their own now as they get accustomed to life without Bob- father-husband and friend. 

I can't imagine their pain nor the fear of the future without their anchor. I understand their loss and how badly they miss Bob and his laughter and his relentless steadfast dedication to his family. Bob was a true gem in a society of fakes. The world is truly a lesser place without him. The picture below is Leigh Anne and Bob - b.c. (before cancer).

 

I am humbled and grateful but I feel small compared to the grief that I know has perched over my precious friend. Leigh Anne's loss easily silences the whiney voice of whatever worries or fears I have rumbling around in my head like the thunder of the storms outside. 

Thank you my friends- Leigh Anne and Bob and Chance and Jill. Thank you for opening your home to us so we could avoid the storm outside and for reminding us that like last night's downpour- the storms in our lives can't hurt us when we share them with friends.

Namaste my friends and Peace for every step of your journey.

Alright, alright, alright !!

Well this is the last day of our normal conformist lifestyle. I figured I would make my first entry
here on our blog and you will certainly be able to tell before you finish why I don't do more entries.
Linda is the wordsmith in the family and I am glad to let her handle those duties. I will have much more
mundane responsibilities as we head out to meet the world and all the remarkable places and people we are
sure to encounter.
Let me start by saying this is SCARY, I have been a slave to the "system" for 40+ years so old habits
are hard to let go of. We have spent the last week selling and giving away everything we own and I mean everything. If it don't figure into our survival and fit in the Camry then it was jettisoned. So here we are
both of us unemployed (first time since I was 14 years old) also no permanent address, just a PO box so that there is some sort of anchor to allow us, in some form or fashion to maintain "roots". With the money
we made in the "great sell off" I think we can last about 2 weeks maybe 3 without changing our lifestyle.
So in addition to all the other sacrifices we are making for what we are sure is a spiritual soul awakening
we are both going to have to also jettison our cigarette and diet coke addictions (this scares me the most)
if we are going to make the money last as long as is necessary to effect the changes and enlightenment we
so desperately seek.
If the creator had not spoken clearly to both Linda and I at exactly the same time with exactly the same message when we were miles apart in location I would probably be at work today and still in that same 'ole rut for years to come. So with that said, yes we are crazy but this decision is going to be one of the sanest I have made in all my 56 years, it is with that conviction that allows me to do this very quickly and with all the confidence one soul can have in this life. We will be alright,alright,alright!
Earlier this week as the chaos and uncertainty set in with my beautiful wife Linda, you see she has always been a nester and this most certainly put those instincts to the test and it was difficult for me
to watch her struggle with this, me not so much. I have had to start over from scratch a couple of times in this life so, if, and I use the word "if" loosely this does not play out like the universe(GOD) so clearly showed both of us that it would then I have experience at picking up the pieces and starting all over again. Linda on the other hand has always had security when it comes down to an income and a home. I know she is capable of amazing resilience and determination I just hope that we don't have to rely on those traits to jump back into the "world" should this all turn out to be lesson in humility and we come back tail between our legs,hat in hand and die as unfulfilled as when we were blessed with this calling.
I don't know about Linda but for myself, and I alluded to it earlier, some sacrifices are going to have to be made by me to give this mission of ours all the legs it is gonna need to be life changing for us as well as EVERYONE we encounter along the way. But I am not looking at them as sacrifices but more like tools I can barter with to help facilitate the change needed on this planet. In an effort to be succinct I will list just 3 of the most painful things I am going to trade with the Universe for things in return that I will gain along this journey that will help not only me but Linda and anyone we are blessed with spending time with along the way. OK Universe, tomorrow morning I will give up my 2+ pack a day cigarette addiction,my 5-6 diet cokes and then there is TV, damn that might be the hardest of all. In return Universe, I am expecting to get love,laughter,peace and hopefully some spiritual maturity that can only be obtained when you finally realize that there really is only one religion and one law, that is LOVE.
Please do not let me mislead you, what we are doing is selfish. WE know that if everywhere we go we give GOOD then we will in return, get Good. So folks that are out there following our progress or lack thereof, if you would on occasion look to the heavens and ask that our journey be everything and MORE than we envisioned. Thank You, Namaste' and God Bless to you and yours til our next installment from the road.

This is me today, one content SOB and appearing happy

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This is me after we embark on our path. Bliss=peace

A Message From the Future

In 7 years, I’ll be 60. I hope (and expect) that the 60 year old version of me is wiser, more at peace with herself and the world. I hope she is looking back on me as I am today- the 53 year old me looking for the next step in my life and thinking “that’s the moment when everything changed”.

I can just imagine and hope the future me will be pleased with the choices I’m making today.  I hope a conversation with the future me sounds something along the lines of:

“Ahhh, at 53 I was at a crossroads- Unexpectedly fired from my job. I had grown to resent the company for the hurtful-insensitive-self-serving things I had witnessed from the CEOs and upper management. The company was completely at odds with my personal philosophy of putting people ahead of dollars. But the pay was more than I had ever made in my life. Steve and I were comfortable. But I was miserable-depressed-sick-crawling through each day. Being released from that job was a huge blessing but also a huge financial sacrifice, I didn’t know what to do. There were jobs all over the area but was that the answer? Just get another job and jump right back into the system that was killing me? The last thing I wanted was repeating the pattern of trading hours of my life for dollars- especially when a large part of those dollars went into the pocket of people who DID NOT share our respect for life. I was fearful yes, I was so thankful and I worked hard at staying in the moment- to enjoy being at home every day- walking the dogs, writing, cooking, crafting-the things that made me blissful. Every day I prayed & meditated & began learning-seeing the Universe at work- everywhere I looked.  I had not been this happy maybe in all my life.  

I kept myself in tune with my higher power and kept listening for direction. It was always the same “Trust me. I’ve got you” the very same words as a corporate recruiter I had told people many times when they came to me looking for help. “I’m here to help, I’ve got you.”

Finally I was able to relax and trust the Universe honestly did have me and was trustworthy. I mean what choices do you have really if you don’t have confidence in yourself? When you lose belief in YOURSELF then you’re at odds with the Universe who as we know- is ALWAYS ON OUR SIDE and ALWAYS BELIEVES IN US! That’s a battle that today’s world (we) can never win.

I started to relax into the new role of full time wife-writer-mom-grandma-pet owner- and craft maker extraordinaire! I began to let go of things I thought I had to have-admittedly sometimes these things had to be delicately removed from my grasp by the Universe (namely our home).

But the thought kept echoing through my mind – ‘freedoms’ just another word for nothing left to lose’.  I had been asking the creator for a chance to travel and see the world, to sleep under the stars in the back of our camper van as we travel the country giving back to the earth and planting trees and good vibes – and hope- along the way.

This was the dream we had been nurturing every day for years.

We downsized and then downsized again, yes it was a process! The Universe in her all knowing wisdom- understood that letting go of the things we think of as our security- is separation anxiety of the fiercest kind! So, like the loving mother she is, she eased us into it. We took it one day at a time- to do otherwise would have driven us (me especially) to madness of the unknown future. I was freer than I had ever been in my life. Every option of the Universe was open to me and once I let go of the fear/guilt of failing and falling and the opinions and judgment of others, once I just enjoyed the freedom of living and began to undo the 50+years of brainwashing that had been the voices in my head – “work harder-work faster-earn more” I finally began to un-hear those things!   

Steve and I tiptoed along- literally- not being brave enough to take a giant leap on my own; the Universe had to give me a couple of nudges.  I finally got my wings the day that I felt the fear leave me. The day that I put on music and danced in the house- alone except for the dogs and cat- and I wept for joy at the beauty of that moment. If getting fired was the only way for me to experience that singular blissful moment or any other one ahead- then it was worth it. It had been a very VERY long time since I had wept for the JOY of being alive and it felt amazing! Fast forward- here we are seven years later. Steve and I became Nomads- traveling - letting the beauty of this world heal our souls and renew our sparkle for life. We now have a successful life coaching business, are published authors and an in-demand motivational speakers. We have traveled to every state in the country and have been on numerous international adventures.   How did we get here you ask? It was simple really- you see a person can’t walk around in that kind of natural euphoria and sublime happiness, without other people noticing.  When joy and peace radiate from your life- people will be drawn to you like a moth to the flame. It wasn’t that we were trying to draw attention to ourselves- we both knew it wasn’t anything we had intentionally done- it was the Love of the Universe that others saw in us and they were drawn to it like magnets. They wanted to know how they could find the kind of happiness that would lead them to dance and cry with sheer joy for no reason or maybe it was for every reason. As others began to listen and to follow, our joy- our bliss became even fuller. The words of the Universe renewed our passion and healed us. We wanted to share the message of hope to everyone we met. Investing ourselves into others would become the fuel that would drive that passion and our camper van. Wanting-needing-yearning- to tell others of the things we’ve learned was like a fire in our bones. It was something that drove us even when we didn’t know why or where or how we were going to end up, The Universe was guiding us and we believed it would lead us to the right place at the right time. We went on with complete faith in the plan. We were so certain and the message was so clear and strong that we gambled the entire rest of our lives on it. The truth of the matter was a person can live without trusting the Universe if you want. You can struggle along in your own self made battles, with just enough verve and moxie to live half of a life, or you can risk everything for a chance at the ultimate life. We knew that a half-life was no life at all and it was either freedom or bust for us.  We laid it all on the line- trusting in the love and care and guidance of the Universe to get us to our proper destination(s). And boy, are we glad we did. Life changed forever that day and every day since has been an adventure and a blessing. More than we dreamed and it all started with a hunger for more. Oh I know- hunger isn’t a pleasant feeling- nobody likes to feel hungry. So we stuff ourselves with shit to keep from feeling that discomfort. We snack, graze, pig-out and pork-up on things to stop the hunger not realizing that hunger is what propels us to find nourishment that satisfies. Did you get that? Hunger isn’t a bad thing, listen to what your spirit is hungry for- that’s where you will find your bliss.”

    Ah, my thoughts return back to today, this moment, I am not a young person anymore. I’m older than I’ve ever been and I have fewer tomorrows than yesterdays. I hear the message of the 60 year old future me pleading “Don’t settle Linda…don’t settle Steve. Hang onto those dreams, the Universe has placed them inside of you for a reason.  Have faith that you are exactly where you need to be. Be brave and happy-go ahead and dance- the Universe sees your bliss and is sending you a lifetime supply.  It’s impossible to teach somebody how to be happy and harmonious when you hate your life- I need you, the Universe needs you, people need you to show them how to dance”.   

Namaste’ future me. I’ll see you in a few years.

2 Square Tires- 3 Life Lessons

I love dreaming! I feel sorry for people that say they don’t dream or that don’t remember their dreams. I come from a long line of dreamers! Oh- I’m not talking about the MLK  "I have a dream…” type of thing.  I mean DREAM- like the unconscious state where your subconscious mind takes the lead and shows you things, people, places, lessons!

My dad had a dream in the mid 1970s. In the dream God spoke to him and it changed his life. My dad lived every day of the rest of his life according to the message that God gave him that one night. He believed it and so did I. If you knew my dad for more than five minutes, he probably told you the story, his story. It became his guiding light.

My grandmother had a reoccurring dream that someone in the family caught a fish and every single time she had that dream, she knew  somebody in the family was pregnant or soon would be! True story!

Regardless of your stance on dreams and their meanings, indulge me.  Let me tell you about a dream I had several years ago…

In my dream there were many people gathered at the starting line of a race, some of them were people that I knew- but not all were familiar.  I was there too, getting lined up to run- stretching, breathing, focusing, yada yada yada. We were getting ready for the race to begin when someone began handing out bicycles. Every person in the race was given a bike which they were required to use during the race. It was mandatory. You could not enter the race without it.

 Some of the bikes were seriously great!  New fancy 10 speeds with all terrain tires that would take their lucky rider anywhere!  There were mountain bikes, racing bikes, three wheeled bikes, bikes with bells and lights and bikes with baskets and backseats.   Some bikes had four wheels, some six, some had only one.  There were bikes that were more rust or duct tape than anything else. Some with more missing or broken parts than working ones. Some had no tires, some had flat tires, some had only badly bent or damaged tires.

I looked at my bike. Square tires. Two square tires. Riding that thing across the finish line was going to be horrible!  How was I going to finish the race on 2 square tires?  It would be like riding a pogo stick to the finish line!  I felt defeated before the race even started.and then I woke up.

Dreams like these are so vivid- I can draw them more easily than I can describe them. So colorful and vivid and so full of meaning. Have you already guessed it? The meaning of my dream?

Three things I learned- like 3 Post-it-note messages left for my conscious mind to see.

1.      Persevere. We all have different struggles. Some of us have more gifts than others- some of us have more broken or missing parts than working ones. I remind myself daily. Just finish your race. Use what the Creator gave you- to the best of your ability.  If that means we’ve got to drag –push-carry or ride- to the finish line then so be it. Persevere.

And lesson #2 when I start to feel sorry for myself for the uncomfortable teeth jarring ride on my square tires- look around. In life, as in my dream-

2.       Be grateful. Some have it worse- some have it much worse.  Be thankful for what I DO  have as well as for what I DONT.

 And oh don’t forget the lucky few with the great bikes- their race finished before mine hardly began. Don’t waste time or energy envying others.  We are all different. Our life lessons are as varied as we are. We have each been given unique abilities and disabilities, eases or diseases- that the Creator knows will help us grow during our race. Yes some have it easier- but not all do. Be happy that some experience a more pleasant race but also consider – sometimes the bike only looks awesome on the outside.

3 Don’t judge others. Period.

So, tell me my friends. What kind of bike were you given for the race? No matter where you are in the equipment line-up be sure that you are ok. You are right where you are supposed to be with the perfect bike to help you grow!

Namaste my friends and Peace for every step (or peddle) of your journey! Now back to these square tires!

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A Conversation with the Universe

So as you may or may not know, I lost my job a few weeks ago. Oh, it wasn’t a bad thing really, aside from losing an above average weekly paycheck it was a really good thing.
The company was in a downward spiral and I hadn’t been happy there for months. Too much politics and nepotism and too little appreciation for the sixty-seventy and sometimes eighty hour work weeks. It had worn me down and stolen the sparkle from the position I had once felt lucky to have. Now as the end of the emergency cushion in our bank account grows ominously nearer, I admit it takes more effort than usual to stay positive.
I’ve been doing pretty well up until recently when I made the mistake one morning of checking our bank balance and well, yea so maybe Ignorance really is Bliss.
Fighting the urge to panic & run out and grab a job-any job- I've been staying focused by spending more time meditating and checking in with the Universe.
Yesterday afternoon I’m sitting on the bed, propped into a semi-meditative position by three pillows and Max (our chubby, senior citizen chihuahua) when I heard the prompting of my higher power niggling the edges of my mind.

“So, Linda When will you be happy?” The voice whispered.


Oh I had an answer, this was easy I thought.
"I'll be happy when Steve and I can travel. When we stand on the edge of the Grand Canyon or snap selfies at Mt Rushmore. You know, the stuff that hippy dreams are made of."

“Ahh" What if that never happens? Then, when will you be happy?” whispered the Voice.

“Well, when we can at least live comfortably without having to worry about sleeping in the backseat of the Camry".

“Understandable but what if you know, the money runs out before you're ready then....
When will you be happy?”

Urghh, was there a point here? I sighed.

"Okay, so when our kids are secure and settled and thriving, most def then we'll be happy for sure”. Good answer. I was confident.

“Hahaha…six kids, all secure and settled and happy at the same time? Girl you really have a lot to learn."
Why was the Universe starting to sound like my mother? Was she actually chuckling at my well-intended answer?

"Okay at the risk of sounding redundant, all these things I get", said Mother Universe.
"In the best case scenario you and Steve will live that dream of seeing the world while your bank account grows or at least stays stable, and your kids and their spouses and their kids- are all settled and secure and happy…I get that- who wouldn’t be happy? But – just what if those things don’t happen?  Or what if they only randomly happen? What if none of them ever happen all at once or for very long? Then my hippy child…When will you be happy?”

I was silent all the way to my core, I had apparently missed something important here. Suddenly- like a bird being pitched out of the nest, I understood what Ma Universe was trying to teach me, maybe.

Happiness is NOT a destination. Maybe those clever words weren't just a quote on a bumper sticker. Suddenly I realized what they meant, and though I had read them probably 100s of times, hell I had likely even said them to someone at some point in my life. With the help of the Universe maybe I finally understood their depth.
I had placed some pretty high stakes on everything in my life turning out just right and unless/until those things all came to be I would ..what?  Never be happy?   Be doomed to live a life sans happiness?
Happiness is NOT a destination, the wise voice of She-Who-Knows had whispered.
Maybe it's a step. It's each step. Perhaps Happiness is more likely the road map TO the destination. Wow mind blown!

Thank You Universe for this life-changing reminder. Happiness isn't a distant place or time but rather it's right here for the taking- all I have to do is reach out and grab it.

With a wiser and gentler heart I understood the message the Creator was trying to teach me. Tonight right now, I can chose to be happy.
While I have dinner in the oven, no it's not filet mignon, but it's something.
While the TV plays in the background & the dryer tumbles our laundry... (we have electricity and clothes and a tv and cable).
Tonight our kids- if not happy- are ok. Better than ok, they’re fine.
I can be happy right now- just like I imagined.
I will. I will be happy right this moment, this Tuesday night at 7:37. I’ll be happy right NOW.
NOW. Three little letters that I had a hard time accepting.
THIS is what it means to live in the moment-in the N-O-W.
THIS I am learning is the definition of BLISS- 'happiness in spite of perfect circumstances'.
This is happiness. And yes Virginia, Ignorance really is BLISS-

don’t check that bank account balance until you can handle it.

So I have a lot to learn, I agree. But the Universe is a patient teacher and speaks in a way that I can understand. I am grateful and for me, gratitude and happiness are kind of the same thing.

Be thankful, Be Blessed- Be Happy, NOW.
Namaste my friends and peace for every step of your journey for it's in each step that happiness is found. In the NOW.