today I am thinking about...

Indian chicken with lemon slices and fried onions, from www.gardenersgastronomy.blogspot.com, who said it was basically from a Madhur Jaffrey cookbook that the cook has (I want to give credit where credit is due - I'd hate to be accused of plagiarizing). I made it last night for Billy and I, seeing as how Steve was in Beulah eloquently speaking to a group of 70 delegates. I served it with lentils, brown rice, and steamed spinach. It maybe shouldn't have made me as happy as it did, but I can't stop thinking about it. How much fun it was to make it (it only took an hour), how good it smelled, and how good it tasted in my mouth. I don't know if it's me, or if it WAS just the food, but it was a, well, heavenly experience. I want to share it with you, my dear friends:

Indian Chicken with lemon slices and fried onions

Serves 4-6

6-8 chicken pieces
3 medium-size onions
1 inch cube of ginger, peeled and sliced
4 cloves garlic, chopped (or more if you love it like I do)
8 T. olive oil
1 T. ground coriander
1 t. ground cumin
1/2 t. turmeric (good for your memory)
1 T tomato paste
1/2 t. salt (or none if you like)
1/4 t. cinnamon
1/4 t. ground cloves (ahhhhh....)
1/2 t. cayenne pepper
1 whole lemon
freshly ground pepper
2 T yogurt

Peel the onions. Chop two of them into fourths and put them into a food processor. Cut the third one in half lengthwise, then slice it into thin half-rounds and set aside.

Add 6 T. of water, the ginger and the garlic to the onions in the food processor and blend at high speed until you have a smooth paste.

Heat 6 T. of the oil in a pot on medium high. When hot, put in the onions and fry them until they are darkish brown and crisp (not burned). Remove and put in a bowl.

Remove skin from all chicken pieces. Divide legs into drumstick and thigh (if not separated already), and quarter the breasts (if you wish). In the same oil, brown the chicken pieces on all sides until golden brown. Remove them to a bowl.

Add the remaining 2 T. of oil to the pot. Pour in the past from the blender (keep your face averted). Stirring, fry on medium high heat until paste turns a nice golden brown. Put in the coriander, cumin, and turmeric and fry a little more. Add yogurt, a teaspoon at a time, then the tomato paste, stirring all the wile. Finally, add salt, cinnamon, cloves, cayenne pepper, and a pint of water (2 cups). Bring to a boil, cover, lower heat, and simmer gently for 10 minutes.

Cut the lemon into 4 or 5 slices, discarding the end pieces, and remove the seeds. Add lemon slices (it's pretty strong lemony if you add ALL of the slices, so if you're not totally keen on lemon, you might want to add less than the whole), along with the chicken pieces, fried onions, and freshly ground pepper to the sauce; stir, and bring to a boil.

Cover, lower heat, and simmer gently for 20 to 25 minutes or until chicken is tender, turning them every now and then. If the chicken sticks to the bottom of the pot (mine didn't), add a little more water. You will get a very thick sauce.

I served this alongside the brown rice, lentils and steamed spinach, pouring some sauce over the rice. It's incredible - just smelling it will make you happy. I promise.

finding my voice

I'm feeling inspired today by so many things. One of the things I've been keenly aware of lately is the FEELING I get when someone touches my soul, when they inspire me (breathe Spirit into me). Last Saturday's concert at the Fargo Theatre did that to me. We got to sit in the front row and watch these amazing women sing their souls out. I took deep breaths, closed my eyes, and just soaked it all up. Art does that to me. I'm thinking of my beautiful office with Karman's paintings, and Paul Allen's, and Patty Kirk's, and Tara's, and more. It fills me up to look at them, especially Paul's, who's is directly in front of me when I sit in my chair. I don't necessarily "look" at it, but just sit with it and let it work its magic.

That's how I feel when I'm with my friends, too. Maggie, Melissa, oh, you know them all, and they are all lovely. I'm so blessed, like I'm overflowing with good fortune to have you all in my life - how do I get so lucky? When I think of them, or talk to them, or laugh with them, I feel like I'm buoyed up, like I'm floating even higher in my life. The sun is brighter, the air is purer, my head is clearer.

Bill's home from school today, so I'm catching up with Steve's campaign stuff (see the link to "vote" for him online), and just relaxing. I'm not feeling so tired today. Mom's scheduled to go home today (I know, it was supposed to be yesterday, but...). She'd lost 15 pounds of fluid - too much - so they had to hook her up to an IV to replace some of it. Ironic, don't you think? I'm going to be cooking for them all week, then freezing everything and sending it up so Dad will have good, healthy, no-salt food for the next few weeks. I love to cook, I love helping them. I think that's the main reason I'm here this time around - to help in any way I can. It may sound funny to say, but I'm crazy about people - I just love everyone. I love being with people (extreme extravert, I'm thinking), but that's been on my mind a lot, too. I don't know what it means, I'm just thinking about my love for people.

A friend and client told me something the other day that made my whole year. She said that she recommends everyone to me because I've been doing this for so long - I STAY, and I don't have any other agenda other than to help people. Sometimes I think I'm not PUSHING enough - I'm not sending out 10 e-mails to people every week, I'm not setting up a ton of classes or traveling all over the region - I'm not pushing myself for money or clients. But I'm doing it the best way that I know how to do it, and to hear her tell me those things makes me feel comforted - feedback isn't mandatory, but it sure is nice sometimes. Thank you, Karen, for your kind words to me last Friday - they meant the world to me. This world is an unbelievable place of growth and opportunities, and today I'm steeped in those kinds of feelings.

it's been one week...

well, actually one and a HALF weeks since I've had a good night's sleep. Let me clarify: for me, a good night's sleep is at least 10 hours, so in actuality, this averaging 8 hours doesn't sound too bad, but for me, it's sleep deprivation. I even have dark circles under my eyes, and I don't DO dark circles. Symbolism abounds right now. Last night was my first possible night of good sleep. Bill woke up barking at 2AM - croup. One long hot shower, and a few deep breaths out in the cold night air, sleeping until 7:30 when the barking started again. I only know I'm tired when I get crabby. Steve walked toward me, and I quickly said, "You'd better give me a WIDE berth right now." He smartly did. He later came back quietly with his arms out, and I was able to walk into them and hold him tightly. He left for Minot. I was too tired to walk this morning, so decided to run some of Steve's errands instead. I only had 40 minutes, so I drove, um, too fast, and got a speeding ticket. As I sat there waiting for the policeman to walk up to my car, I thought, "I wonder what the symbolism is here?" Um, slow down??? Could be... On one of my errands I ran into the woman I had to call today - that saved me a phone call. Synchronicity.

I had so much fun on Saturday night at the Celebration of Women and Their Arts. Deb gave Maggie and me backstage passes (so we could party like rock stars), and we got to talk with everyone before the show and at "half time" (intermission to theatre people). I saw Laurie and Barbara and Lora and Max and Linda and Gwen. But perhaps the oddest thing of all was Kristin Kitco. Her voice and songwriting skills are amazing (check out her "I'm Not Wal-Mart" song). After the show I was talking with her, and she said, "Are you the one with "Pink Stars and Angel Wings" and all that?" I answered yes. She said, "I was the voice of Kari on the taped version of the book." WHAT? That was in 1992. She's from Chicago. What ARE the odds? Too great to calculate, I'm thinking. Yet there she was, and there I was, 16 years later, in Fargo, North Dakota. So there you go - synchronicities.

Mom's getting out of the hospital today. She's lost a total of 11 pounds of fluid (yay), and her hemoglobin is back up into the 10's. I think she will be with us for a little while longer, and for that I'm always eternally grateful. In fact, even though I feel exhausted today, I'm totally happy. There are no worries - I feel like I'm on a raft, drifting down a river. The current is swift, but not so swift that I'm scared I'll overturn. Just swift enough to get me where I want to go. "Row row row your raft, gently down the stream. Merrily merrily merrily merrily - life is but a dream." But what a dream we're waking up from. It's far more beautiful than the dream that was my life before. Because it's REAL. And why haven't I been sleeping? I don't know, but I sure hope I can sleep tonight... stay tuned.

perspective

They put the bathrobe on Mom, put the pink and blue strap around her waist, position her walker, and she walks, hunched over, carefully shuffling her feet, slowly. She goes further every day. She blows into a machine to keep her lungs clear. She needs help getting her legs into bed. So I notice these things in my own body. I take deep conscious breaths, aware of the air filling and expanding my lungs easily and fully. I roll over onto my side in bed, then back again, then stretch languidly, like a cat. I notice my long, energetic steps, I bounce on my toes, I bend over and stretch. I am fully in my strong, healthy body, and I am aware of it, I notice it, I am grateful for my body. I don't take it for granted, because I look at my beautiful strong mother, and I remember her when I was growing up, and although this is her same body, it does not contain all of her anymore - it is tired, worn out, struggling to keep going, and I know it will not be long - it just can't do it anymore.

So the stark comparison sits on my chest today, and keeps drawing my attention to it - it will not be ignored. "I am here," it whispers. "Appreciate your life," it insists. And I listen, oh, do I listen, because I am living it with my mom - my strong, brave, beautiful, amazing mother who's struggling for every breath right now. The most amazing thing to me is that she keeps her sense of humor, suggesting that the blood doctor donate his kidney to her, because that's the only other alternative to the synthetic hormone they're injecting her with. His eyes got wide, I burst out laughing, then he got the joke, too. Maybe you're not supposed to joke about body organs, but I thought it was hip hop hilarious.

So I'm learning from her - it's not about learning how to die, it's about learning how to be in my body now, how to be fully present and aware and awake, and that is perhaps the most spiritual lesson of them all for me in this. That, and realizing how precious and tenuous life is. When I remember that, then I can be there for her - I can stroke her soft gray hair and run my fingers lightly over her forehead. I hear her murmur "mmmm" and I know it brings her comfort. That's the least I can do.

love

I baked a quadruple batch of heart-shaped Valentine's cookies, part for Bill's class, part for the banquet for Celebration of Women and Their Music. I didn't have time to frost them, and Steve (bless his heart) bought store frosting and frosted them, and put the pink sprinkles on. Bill said, "The kids won't like them - they only like her homemade frosting," and though that probably isn't true, I understand. I wanted to be with my husband and youngest son today. I wanted to cook our traditional chicken and rice dinner, with the cut out heart-shaped red bell peppers. I wanted to bake an organic chocolate cake in little heart shaped pans. I wanted to be with them. But this morning I saw my dad's red eyes, and got a stomach ache. What do you do when you are torn directly in two between two worlds? This world of my mom and dad, 190 miles west of my home, and this world of my home and husband and child? Routine and comfort vs. the hospital and insulin shots and low hemoglobin and "what do we do now?" I don't know. I just felt the two worlds in each of my hands, as if I had a scale, and I looked at them, no, I FELT them, and I knew what I had to do.

So I stay in Bismarck one more night. I will stay at the hospital because Mom's getting a strong iron injection and Dad's worried she might get a reaction. I know Mom's scared. Dad's tired. He slept 11 hours last night, and 4 this afternoon. I'm so glad I can be here for them. It feels sometimes like the whole world is crumbling around me. I see friends in crisis left and right, and yet I am so happy. I continue to feel happy and calm and blissful, and I can't tell you why. The night before I left I was cuddling Bill, and lying on my left side. I had the urge to turn to my right, and as I did, I saw that the time was 11:11, so I chose to walk through that gateway to a higher place of understanding. I said, "I walk through, and I will stay there," and although I have a headache and my body is stiff from sitting in the hospital so long, my insides are full, and everything is all right. I can just FEEL it.

They plan on letting her go home tomorrow, and my sister's flying up from Colorado to be with them until Wednesday. After that, I don't know - Steve's on the road for his campaigning, so it's a little tricky with Bill, but Melissa is a godsend, picking him up from school and hanging (thanks eternally, Missy Pooh). Life is very real right now, and I'm so glad I'm as prepared as I am for all that's unfolding. A few years ago I don't think I'd be feeling the same way that I do right now. And I'm grateful. Again, I'm eternally grateful.

mom

Dad called, and Mom's in the hospital with fluid around her heart. She's having trouble breathing and has chest pains. I'm leaving for Bismarck. Steve's traveling for his campaign, but we're gathering support to help with Bill. Thank you to everyone who's coming to bat right now. We are eternally grateful for your love and support. Steve held me tightly before he left tonight, but I told him it's all right. And I smiled. It really is all right.

movement

I had a hard time waking up this morning. Part of it was that we'd stayed up until after midnight all weekend to spend time with Kari and Brian, but this was a to-the-bone tired that it is usually an energetic thing. So I honored it by going to bed at 9, dragging out of bed at 7:30 - not a math major, but that's 10 1/2 hours of sleep, and I could crawl back again. What's shifting? Part of it is our imbedded ideas of how we think our lives should look. I know I have specific ideas about what should go on in my life, and with the people I'm with. I've probably backed them into a corner, and see them in certain ways. Kari is the _____ one, Erik is the _____ one, Steve is always ________, and on. So I'm rolling my shoulders (they are stiff as well) and thinking about how I see all of the people who are in my life. Have I narrowed my vision of who they are and who they could be? Am I giving them the benefit of the doubt? Am I encouraging them to grow and change? Heck, and I doing that for myself? I don't know the answers to any of these questions today, but it's a perfect morning to ponder all of this, before I strap on my sneakers and start my half-marathon training. I'm even keeping a training log (how cool is that? As cool as North Dakota weather).

Steve is traveling all week, speaking at the local conventions around the state. His speech is killer, and I can feel his energy - it will be great when he's PSC. North Dakota is getting a great guy, and I should know. I can't wait for this weekend, and the Celebration of Women and Their Music. Mags is spending the weekend, and we're going to the show on Saturday. Deb does such a great job - it's the 11th year - hard to believe that Kari and I went the second year, and she was just a little girl (um, math time again - 11 years old). Time is just so... fleeting. What a day what a week what a life.

through the fire and the flame

I'm listening to it right now. I should be in bed, it's 10:35PM, one hour past my bedtime, and I'm tired. But Kari and Brian are here, and they have to leave early tomorrow morning, about the same time Bill and I leave for Sunday School. I'm filled to the brim today - we went to the Kiwanis Pancake Feed, and watched them break the Guinness World Record for the most pancakes served (30,724). They served us four pancakes, two sausages, orange juice (or milk), and all the seconds (and thirds and fourths) we wanted. It was a party, for sure - tv cameras everywhere - MSU Dragons dressed up to volunteer, crooning behind Elizabeth playing live piano music. I ate two pancakes and three sausages, no juice. Then I made egg rolls and fried rice and sweet and sour sauce for dinner, and we quoted "Waiting for Guffman" all during dinner, laughing at our cleverness. I made a Take 2 Video run and rented it, and we watched it, crowded around my Apple because the monitor is so big. That movie only gets better with time - "CORKY." Ah - soothes my heart. I tucked Bill in bed and headed back to Kari's room, where we sit now. I don't want to go to bed. When I wake up tomorrow, she'll be gone.

These times are so precious. She's gone, you know, even though she's HERE right now - I realize she will never LIVE here again in the house - she's grown up, and it felt like a punch to my stomach the first time I realized it. I'm a little used to it, but it's still just so natural for her to be here - it feels like HOME when she's here... then she drives away in her little white Bravada, honking as she rounds the corner, and I stand in the door, watching until I can't see her anymore. But that's sort of what all of life is like - precious little diamonds of coming together, followed by stretches of different combinations - sometimes alone, sometimes with Bill, then Bill and Steve, then Steve alone, then Erik, then my friends, then I'm alone again. It's all right - it's perfect - it's the colors and textures of the tapestry - ever-changing and interesting. But sometimes, just sometimes, I wish I could just hold it ALL in my arms and squeeze and keep everybody here with me always. Not possible, I know, improbable, impossible, but still, I think that sometimes, and if I close my eyes and concentrate hard enough, I can FEEL everyone here with me, and that's just perfect.

Do. Be. Do. Be. Do.

It is just that kind of day, when I need to type and write, so I will.

Dear Ones – what a place you find yourselves these days. First you are at the mountaintop, then you are cascading down on the waterfall, then you are swimming, fuzzy, under the water, then you are flying. Is it all so confusing? Or is it exciting? We suggest that it is probably all of the above, as this is the current “trend.” Changing things up – getting used to the possibilities. It is not just the case of “intending the future for your life,” for how in the world could you possibly KNOW all that is possible for your life? You might ask to be moved out of a box you live in, into a small house, when the Future held a beautiful mansion for you? Why in the world would you want to limit yourself? Better yet, we say, to go to your Center, and breathe from that place, opening yourself up to all that is Good in your life, and all that is to come. From that Center. THAT is where your future lies. Not in some book or workshop or presenter or class or theory. That may be all right for some people, but not for you! For you know the Secret – and nobody else knows your Secret, for everyone has their own Secret way to their dreams. What is my dream is certainly not your dream, nor would I have it be. How dull and boring would that be if everyone were President of the United States? Whom then would we all lead? Better to be President of YOUR united STATE.

Dreams are becoming reality, and “reality” is becoming but a dream. So then, what is real? What you decide is real for you. The shadow across your window is either a monster or a tree branch – YOU decide for you, then act accordingly. If you make it a monster, then you will act afraid. If you make it a tree branch, you will admire its stark beauty. IT IS UP TO YOU. Now is the time to bring your “dreams” into your “real” life, for we tell you that dreams are no longer those fantasies relegated to your unfulfilled reality – they are your heart’s longing for total expression and fulfillment. Take a moment to ask yourself what you are dreaming of – it can be anything. Now just SIT in the space of that dream – pull the dream into your consciousness. That’s it. You are only knitting together the seen and unseen, the heretofore impossible with the possible, the unconscious with the conscious. You are a knitter of dreams, taking the potential of the yarn and using your physical energies of the needles to create something of beauty – a unique work of art. Your Spirit is the Pattern, and we tell you, Master Knitter, that you are indeed a Master of Creation, for you are constantly creating your Life every moment, are you not? Look not to the specifics, because they have not been written, nor do they “matter” in this realm of creativity. Look to YOUR life, to YOUR unique energies to provide the map you need to move forward into your life. There is no one out there who can TELL you what you need to do – they may make helpful suggestions, they may walk hand in hand with you and be your support and inspiration, but this is YOUR life, your walk, your journey, your future. Bring it TO you by dwelling in your Home fully – that is all you need do at this time. And enjoy the ride. That will continue for some time as energies even out. That is almost assuredly a fact. How long will you continue to grow and change? How long will the sun continue to shine? How long will the Universe be? How eternal is your Soul? Be well, be strong, be true, be love, be you. Just be.

inspiration

Inspiration means to breathe spirit into, and I am totally immersed in inspiration this morning. I have been moved to tears so many times in these past few days it is not even funny (not that I'd think that WOULD be funny). What has inspired me? The first thing that has inspired me is a guitarist that goes under the name of the John Butler Trio. Here's the link to the song that has inspired me - it's called "Ocean." What moves me so much about John's playing is that I can feel pure Spirit coming from him, and it's the most beautiful thing when that happens - see if you can feel it, too. It's like being Home. And his face - oh, that beautiful face... My sweet son Erik found this for me - thanks, honey, for this - I love you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6VAkOhXIsI0

Barack Obama has inspired me, several times over. For goodness sakes, it's not even about politics anymore for me - it's about saving this country, saving the planet, saving everyone. How can we save anything if we're divided and angry and violent? Thanks to Karsmy for sending the link to this next video that moves me to tears every single time I've watched it (and I've watched it SEVERAL times, along with making all of my children and husband watch it, as well). Again, it's the passion and love that emanates from Barack - he's honorable, he cares, he wants so desperately to make a difference, and he wants to unite us all. Again, I don't give a darn if you're Republican or Democrat - I'm not going to vote for the lesser of two evils if there's an amazing candidate out there. I'm going to vote with my heart. "We are one people. We are one nation." Here are the lyrics, followed by the link:

Lyrics:
It was a creed written into the founding documents that declared the destiny of a nation.

Yes we can.

It was whispered by slaves and abolitionists as they blazed a trail toward freedom.

Yes we can.

It was sung by immigrants as they struck out from distant shores and pioneers who pushed westward against an unforgiving wilderness.

Yes we can.

It was the call of workers who organized; women who reached for the ballots; a President who chose the moon as our new frontier; and a King who took us to the mountaintop and pointed the way to the Promised Land.

Yes we can to justice and equality.

Yes we can to opportunity and prosperity.

Yes we can heal this nation.

Yes we can repair this world.

Yes we can.

We know the battle ahead will be long, but always remember that no matter what obstacles stand in our way, nothing can stand in the way of the power of millions of voices calling for change.

We have been told we cannot do this by a chorus of cynics...they will only grow louder and more dissonant ........... We've been asked to pause for a reality check. We've been warned against offering the people of this nation false hope.

But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope.

Now the hopes of the little girl who goes to a crumbling school in Dillon are the same as the dreams of the boy who learns on the streets of LA; we will remember that there is something happening in America; that we are not as divided as our politics suggests; that we are one people; we are one nation; and together, we will begin the next great chapter in the American story with three words that will ring from coast to coast; from sea to shining sea --

Yes. We. Can.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BHEO_fG3mm4

Another thing that has inspired me lately is the energy behind the elections. People are becoming interested again - there's PASSION and FIRE. It MATTERS. Even Erik is talking about. He used to think it was a big joke, I think, but I don't think he thinks that anymore. Kari got to stand 20 feet from Hillary when she came to Augsburg to speak - she was so moved. Hillary is a brilliant woman, I agree. And I'm inspired by John McCain having the passion to go for it, at age 71 - heck, WE get tired by 9:30PM, and we're WAY younger than 71. Mitt Romney inspires me with his diligence and persistence.

My sweet husband inspires me. He is running for Public Service Commissioner, and is traveling the state, making phone calls, sending e-mails, having me do work (hah). He is passionate about the office, and is passionate about wind energy, especially (me, too - you'll get two for the price of one on that one when he gets elected, you can bet on it). He's passionate about being a servant of the people. He has integrity. That is my word of the hour - integrity. It comes from the root word which means "whole," and that's what it means, I think. Being a whole person, and operating out of that wholeness, so that our words match our deeds and our thoughts. Our Spirit works WITH our Mind to create an integrated life and vision. My husband has integrity. That inspires me.

So that's it for today - I'm off to help the kids put on their ice skates for gym class, then off to walk at Concordia, then off to run errands. I've been using my early morning minutes to pray, and I love it. I pray for my whole family, one by one, holding them gently in my hands, wishing them the best for their lives. Then I pray for all of my friends, then neighbors, teachers, public officials. I keep expanding my list until I am holding the whole world gently in the palms of my hands. It is precious, and we are so tiny. But we are precious, too. And that is what I love. And that is what inspires me.

i'm right and you're wrong...

"Well, most folks seem to think they're right and you're wrong..."

"They're certainly entitled to think that, and they're entitled to full respect or their opinions," said Atticus, "but before I can live with other folks I've got to live with myself. The one thing that doesn't abide by majority rule is a person's conscience."

That's from "To Kill a Mockingbird," a book I just finished. Surprising, given the fact that I'm an English major and never read it. But it came highly recommended by a respected source (thanks, Mary). That seems to be up a lot right now - opinions, and how to express them respectfully. I got an e-mail from a reader of my column, and she had some pretty strong things to challenge me on. We're currently in an ongoing dialogue about this whole process, and it's fascinating to me. She said that every column felt like it came from a place of love, but this one didn't. She felt that I was attacking her husband, so upon further thought, I suggested that maybe it was because she thought I was attacking her husband that she felt this current column wasn't coming from love. We are all definitely affected by our perspectives and personal issues. They are the lens through which we view the world. If we've been hurt by a dog, then we may see all dogs as vicious, even if they're wagging their tails.

I feel so fabulously great this morning - I walked 6000 steps over at the Arena, then bought my usual decaf skinny latte, and added my own sucanat to keep the chemical content down (it still has the decaf chemicals, but that's better than a racing heart and shaking hands). The sun is shining warmly (even though it's below zero), and again, I'm totally inexplicably happy AND energetic (which I am not always). I washed my book (yes, stuck it in the laundry basket and dumped the whole thing into the washer), so I won't be reading "The Road" by Cormac McCarthy anymore. Bummer - maybe the library has it. It's simply beautiful so far - I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't read - it's my passion. Along with cooking - my root vegetable soup awaits, so I go. Life is deeper, more real, and increasingly more fabulous each day, no matter what actually HAPPENS - it simply is the best thing going for me right now - my life.

a new vision

I don't know how to explain it, but I'm feeling so alive these days. I'm curious about it, so I'm examining it a little. Here's what I think: Jean Eilerman and Christeen McLain were my first mentors, back in the late 1980's. They were the main spiritual leaders here in the area (in my opinion), then Jean moved to California, and Christeen became a little more quiet in her work, then eventually moved to Arizona. Christeen told me she got tired (now I understand what she was talking about). I was passionate about spreading the spiritual word and being a beacon, so I continued with the work of bringing alternatives to the area, since well, the late 80's. I trained over 250 Reiki students, helped 25 people become Reiki Masters, taught countless classes, workshops, gave countless speeches, held gatherings and healing circles, and on. It was great - I loved it.

What I noticed, starting about 3 years ago, was this - many of those who had been clients, or students, or workshop attendees, were now starting to branch out on their own, whether it be practicing Reiki, teaching it, or teaching other classes that they were passionate about. It was somehow "safe" and more acceptable to have different opinions. I really noticed a swelling in the spiritual community, and I was proud. Proud of my dedication to STAYING with the vision, and really proud of all of us who had the enthusiasm to start out on different courses. But I will be honest right now - sometimes I felt like a mother who had done all of the work of those early years, then watched her children fly the nest, never to look back. Now, that's the GOOD part.

The not-so-good part came when I felt that people wanted to shine so badly that they forget everybody and everything else that had helped them along the way, and somehow made it seem like they'd been doing their work forever. I would hear rumors that I had quit doing my work (never), or that someone else had stolen my ideas (whatever). I even had people request that I stop doing my work so THEY could do THEIR work (seriously). It probably shouldn't matter - a good mother's only job is to raise her children to become beautiful adults. So MY problem was that I saw myself as other people's mother. Did they ASK me to take that on? No. Did they like all of the warm fuzzies and hot chocolate and hugs? Probably. Who wouldn't? Is that my M.O.? Most certainly - I live to serve, I live to nurture and support and help. It's what I DO, and I can't imagine doing anything else. But I can do that through my weekly newspaper column, and this blog, and my work with people, and my books and CDs. And by just being me.

So the tricky part was then this: when I started to feel resentful (for whatever reasons), that was my clue that I needed to do something different. So I took off my "mommy" hat and said, "it's time for everyone to fly. I'm done taking care of it all." And how is it now? To me, it feels like there's a strange disconnect in the area - little pockets of people doing all sorts of little things, mostly the fad of the moment, but that's okay. It doesn't feel like there's just one person or group of people that has taken over the leadership role. And that's good. It's too much for one person. People are branching out, experimenting, finding their ways, which is what I think we all need to do, anyway. Eventually we seem to settle down into ourselves, and stop looking so fervently on the outside for answers or meaning - it ends up being inside of us all along. And I'm not taking the responsibility of thinking it's up to ME to help everyone. Sheesh - get down off the cross. Seriously. Another issue of mine. So how do I feel now that I've retired my position of "Mommy to the world?"

Incredibly fabulous. Free. Light. Energetic. I've spoken of my feelings of happiness that are pervasive, no matter my outside circumstances. But it's something more than that. I feel like I've been reborn into another life - one that allows me to be fully the spiritual being I am AND a full part of the greater community. When I look back, I was spending all of my time cultivating the spiritual community that I didn't have time for anything else. I was gone most nights and weekends, and even when I was home I was planning or working on something coming up.

Now I'm active at Bill's school and active in my church again. I'm volunteering at Hospice again, and have time for friends. I don't feel isolated or cut off - I feel more ME than ever before. Interesting to note, my work has quadrupled since resigning as Mommy. I don't feel the need to tell everyone about my work or worry about it at all - everything just flows. And it feels good. Like I've woken up from a dream and I like how my "real" life feels. It was a long journey, and continues to be a journey, but what I want to say is this: I'm so grateful for all of my experiences in these past 15 years - I wouldn't trade any of them for anything, but it's really nice to be where I am now - loved and appreciated and supported by the WHOLE community, a part of, which is what I've wanted all along. It IS possible to be spiritual AND to just BE here. I'm living proof. And I think it was wrong of me to feel like I HAD to be mommy - if I believe that everyone needs to find their own way, and nobody knows more than anyone else, then thinking I was mommy was a bit hypocritical. I wasn't living what I preached, and that's a big no-no in my world.

And my tribe? A most sincere thank you to YOU, my dear friends - if it weren't for you, this whole thing probably wouldn't be half as much fun. You know who you are. Love and hugs and snugs... me.

Mom's necklaces

There are several stereotypes floating around out there about older people. I never really noticed until Dad pointed it out to me. "It makes me d**n angry the way they're always making older people out to be stupid, doddering idiots, shuffling around yelling, "What?" So I started noticing things. They say older people smell funny, they say older people like hard candies, they say their houses smell icky, they can't walk, or see, or hear, or, apparently, think. Yuck - he's right - it sucks. I look at my parents and I see them wearing clean clothes. They eat incredibly well - lots of fresh fruit and homecooked meals. They take regular showers. And they remember things better than I do. They haven't lost ANYTHING.

I helped Mom go through her jewelry one visit, and we were trying to pare down her immense necklace collection. She told me the stories one by one of her necklaces. Some I remembered, some I didn't. I DO remember her Tut necklace, with the gold flared wings - you know the symbol, don't you? She wore that one all the time. Went through this whole period when she really liked anything to do with Egypt. She still have the 3 foot tall gold statue of a young Egyptian female god (I can't remember which one). One of my first thoughts is, "Jewelry has to be the last thing on her mind," as she struggles with breathing and eating and swallowing and keeping her heart beating. But no, she surprises me again. Every time I come home she's wearing a different necklace - last time it was the cross that Dad gave her for Christmas ("now I can wear it all the time and not worrying about the sides poking into me"). She even changes her rings out (except for her wedding ring, which they had to cut off her swollen finger). I've got to be honest - I'm amazed by my mother. I get myopic in my life right now, and I'm in the peak of health. How she still manages to floss and brush her teeth every night AND find new jewelry to wear AND new combinations of clothes to wear ("this cardigan looks so CUTE with this shirt - it's perfect, don't you think?" Yes Mom, I DO think it's cute). Seriously, she is my inspiration for how I want to live my life, not only when I'm older, but NOW. Dad, too. He's the epitomy of unconditional love in action - when Mom needs something, he doesn't sigh and make exaggerated motions of getting up (like I do). He just goes to her.

So I'm thinking about Mom's necklaces this morning, and feeling all soft in my insides. They've found a lot of fluid in Mom's lungs and legs, and she didn't have much breath to talk yesterday, but wanted to hear all about Steve's PSC campaign. Again, not self-centered, but interested in the rest of the world. Inspirational. I push those death thoughts away, but the tears are spilling out of my eyes again, but it's not a bad thing. Really, it's not. It's just that I love my mom and dad so much it makes my chest all tight a lot of the time. Time is just so flipping erratic - I don't get it - why can't we all just be here all the time - immortal - eternal? Oh wait - we ARE - it's just this whole physical plane thing that messes the linear up with the circular. I keep forgetting. But still... every time I get to say, "Hi, Mommy" I'm grateful. And every time she says, "This is your mommy," I'm happy. That's what I remember.

I don't know what to say...

I want to be honest, totally honest, to write what I'm feeling, yet I resist. Why? Because maybe I think I'm supposed to be "up" all of the time, the eternal cheerleader, the optimist, the one who always supports everything, who believes in more than the eye can see. And I AM those things, but I am also honest (writing practice training - thanks, Nat), and today I am feeling discouraged. Why? Because lately, in these past few days, it feels like I have these visions that I am helping others with, and they don't seem as excited or enthusiastic as I am, and I think, "But these are YOUR dreams, not even MINE, and I feel like I care MORE about them." Now you may just tell me that I should step back and let these people do their own things, but I love all of these people - I love them dearly, and I want to help them, but now I'm thinking that I don't know HOW to help any of them. What I think is helpful, they may think is controlling or overbearing (yes, I've heard it before, unbelievable though it may seem), and I think that may be at the heart of all of this crap - learning new ways to be here, learning new ways to be of help without taking over or thinking it has to be done MY way, because, well, my way is the best. I don't really believe that (I don't think), but maybe I do.

I told Steve that during my basketball years, I was so focused on my playing that the coaches didn't even bother to tell me what was going on anywhere else on the floor. I didn't care. When I saw the ball, I put it in the basket, or batted it away from my opponent. I never saw anyone else around me, and I could mow over 4 opponents on my way to the basket. One coach simply told me, "Don't think." Focus. That's what I do. You could call it obsessiveness, but when I go for something, I throw my whole psyche into it, 24/7 - how can I do it, what else can I do, what's something new I can do, who can I get to help... and on. So I approach Steve's campaign the same way, and Dad's book, and Jordan's life, and Erik's life, and Kari's life, and Bill's life. You get the picture. But now I don't have any time left over to throw myself into MY life. And that's okay - for now, because I believe in Steve, and I believe in this book project for Dad. I WANT to do this, but I'm wondering if I'm doing the right thing. I'm wondering what's going on right now, and I see this is something I'll have to sit with, to ask "up" about, so I will. Hang on: ring ring ring (I'm "calling" my intuition)

Hello, it's us. We can see that you are feeling the current turmoil that is swirling all around you and inside of you, and we wish to point out that it is no different than the current turmoil that the entire world is experiencing right now - wanting to make changes into the new, but coming smack up against the obstacles placed in front of you from the "old." The "old" ways will not work anymore, not in any area of your life, so that can be your new landmark - if you are doing something you've always done, do something else, because the old won't work. It's gone, it's done. (so what about me wanting to help others?) Ask yourself if you are genuinely doing this for THEM, or if there is any part that is doing this for YOU, such as, you want to help your husband because if he's happy it will make YOUR life better, or if you help your dad it will make YOU feel better that he's happy. These are very old patterns for you, dear one, and ones that perhaps push you into directions that you would rather not go into, or at least to the EXTENT that you are wandering in these directions. Maybe not so FAST or so DEEP, is the answer. Maybe pull back on ALL fronts for a while and sit with what YOU really want to do to bring passion and excitement into YOUR life statement. What IS your life statement? Think on that for a while, and breathe, just breathe. It's all here for you, and now is the time to achieve your heart's longing... if only you KNOW what that longing is. We love you, we support you, we respect and cherish you always. Have a great day - us.

So that feels more clear, and I'll go now and sit with myself. Life is not for sissies, just like aging is not for sissies. You have to be present, you have to SHOW UP, and sometimes I just want to throw up my hands and say, "I'm done being a cheerleader - I'm going off somewhere else now for a while - catch you later," then I remember my sweet, patient husband, who never turns me away, who is always there with a smile and a hug, always willing to kiss me, even if he's tired, always there for me, so first I'll re-read I Corinthians (our favorite couple's verse about love - tough stuff), THEN I'll sit with this all - phew - change is pretty challenging, but I'm up for the challenge - after all, I'm a 3-time All-American (hah).

Golden

I was only at Colorado College for my freshman year, some 30 years ago (am I really that old?). Basketball was still a big part of my world, and we started in with training right away. Because the elevation was so high, as opposed to North Dakota's elevation (898 feet), it was hard to get used to lack of oxygen, but we kept at it. I was really good for a freshman, and got to start, even - how exciting. I remember my very first game ever, because I'd gotten some er, issues in my intestines and needed to watch my food intake - heavy on the rice and apples, as I remember.

I loved basketball - the sound of the balls pounding on the wooden floors, the squeak of our shoes, the whistles blasting through the gym, the sweating, the focus. She was our coach. I remember her hair swirling across her forehead, and her beautiful cat eyes. I thought she was positively exotic, Laura Golden, our coach. I thought she was old, but then, I was only 18, so how old was old back then? Turns out she was 37 at the time (really old). I remember knowing that she loved to hike up mountains, then would take in the magnificent view while smoking. I remember thinking that was really silly, and I didn't quite get it.

I had a love/hate relationship with Laura that year, because when Betsy came back from volleyball, I was benched for the rest of the year (even though I was better than Betsy - really, I was - trust me). I had a really difficult time snapping out of that - I was used to being a star player, and one time Laura really let me have it - calling me a spoiled brat, and telling me to grow up and snap out of it, join the real world. Looking back on it, I'll have to think about the whole thing again. Sure, I tend to run toward spoiled - still do - but I also have a real sense of my worth, and I WAS a really good ball player. Should she have benched me just because Betsy was older? I don't know - I don't think so, but I'm not a coach so I can't really say for sure what logic they use.

I've thought about Laura and CC over the years. I went on to be a 3 time All-American (it's actually a standing joke in our family), and be really happy. I wondered what happened to all my friends - Irma with her long fingernails, Janyce, who could down whole jars of jalapeno peppers without flinching (I couldn't even lick one without screaming in pain), Anne and Lorna, my role model with her long black hair.

I got an e-mail a week ago. Laura had breast cancer, and wasn't expected to live much longer. I popped off an e-mail to her, telling her all about my memories, and what I had learned from her. I sent it the minute I got the e-mail. Two days ago they said that she'd died, at the age of 67. It's too young - I wonder what she looked like in those later years. And selfishly, I'm glad I've got everyone's e-mails so I can see what everyone's up to. It's all so fast, this life thing, and I know I talk about it a lot, but here it is again - death. So I'm thinking about Laura Golden today, and how she WAS golden, in so many ways.

God speed, Laura - on to your next adventure - one of your players wishes you well.

happy

My back has frozen up tighter than the ice storm scheduled for tonight... and I'm happy.
It was cloudy most of the day... and I'm happy.
I felt so tired that I took long nap... and I'm happy.
I finished the last of the editing on Dad's book ... and I'm happy.
Steve's in Lamoure speaking at their District Convention ... and I'm happy.
Eastgate Funeral Home called Mom - I need to sign some papers ... and I'm happy.
Kari needs to get her eyes checked ... and I'm happy.
Rusty won't stop howling most days and nights ... and I'm happy.
Bill starts basketball tonight ... and I'm happy.

I guess what I want to say is that it's an odd feeling - no matter what's going on in my "real" world, I'm happy, like it's all bubbling up to the surface and spills over. Okay, I got crabby last night because I can't even walk upright, and my back hurts like a son of a gun, but that's okay, because ... I'm happy. Kari and I talked for over an hour last night - she has come to the conclusion that she's has control issues, and realizes that you don't have much control over a lot of things. I'm 47, and I'm still figuring that one out. I think if you can get a handle on that, you'll be, yup, answer for me ... happy.

Because, after all, it really IS a swift ride this time around, and if you're not happy, then you're probably sad. Or mad. Or bad. Or something else that ends in "ad." Rad? No - that would be a GOOD thing to be. A cad? I'd rather be everything that ends in "appy" like nappy, sappy, (not crappy). Okay - get it now? It's all in how you look at things, how you decide to feel, maybe even beforehand, that counts. I remember living the first two Reiki principles for a whole week. They are "Just for today, do not worry. Just for today, do not anger." Okay, everyone - try those on for size. It was easy for me not to worry, but not to get angry? I realized I had some issues around that emotion. So, I'll try them both again for this next week - do not worry, do not anger. And hey, guess what? The sun's come out, if just for a moment, before it dips down and we watch the ice storm stream in. Those are so dangerous, even walking, when the ice sheets thick on your car windows and you can't even drive, and there are accidents everywhere. So I choose to stay in tonight, and read "To Kill a Mockingbird" (I know, shocking that an English major has never read it - but it was highly recommended by Mary Holtey, so I'll take her recommendation), and wait for sweet Steve to come back from his talk. I hope he misses the ice storm, but either way... I'll be happy (AND I won't worry or get angry). Just for today.

my hero

He dressed in my favorite blue suit, the dark one with the light blue stripes. He wore his Jerry Garcia tie and his North Dakota pin on his lapel. He kept lightly drumming his fingers on the table and looking around. Nobody else could tell he was nervous, but I've been with him 17 years. For him, that was nervous. It's been a while since he's been in front of the camera. As a county commissioner, he was used to the media - they were all friends, in fact. He still keeps in touch with one reporter who moved to Washington. But that's Steve - friends to all. We put up the posters and watched as the people came walking in. I'd even found blue and green Lindt chocolates to match Steve's campaign colors (blue and green). Melissa was there (thank you for your support) and Erik (my anchor and rock). Bill was at Andrew's house (thank you, Mary, for being such a godsend).

He'd practiced his speech - short, but to the point. He's interested in advocating for people - will make big businesses accountable for their actions - will develop wind energy to its fullest potential (Hello? North Dakota? Flat? Windy? Duh...). He's got experience, but he's fresh, as well - no deeply entrenched political experiences to bog him down. He's perfect. But then I'd say that - I'm his wife.

But it's more than that. While he was standing in front of the camera crews and audience, I could feel an energy from him - it was pure spirit, an enthusiasm and excitement to be doing what he loved. I think we should ALWAYS be doing that, don't you? So I'm excited for him, and for us, for this journey. I'm excited for the possibilities of his life and our future. I'm a little tired (I won't lie), but now it's Steve's turn to zigzag the whole state a few times, talking to all of the delegates before our state convention. But I told him, "Just be yourself. That's what's going to win you the election." Once you talk to Steve, you love him. He's easy to talk to, and he loves people - he just does. That's what being a public official is all about, isn't it? Or maybe it SHOULD be, but isn't always. But for Steve it is. His way of contributing back to the world.

Will he win? I doggone sure think so (even if he has a wife that says "doggone"). But we'll know more as time goes on. I'm just so thankful for everyone who showed up yesterday to show their support, and all the e-mails (thanks, you guys). And I'm thankful that Steve's so excited about this. Meet and greet (oh yeah, and drive...)

Off to the pinewood derby - Bill's car is uber-fast, so we're anticipating some kind of victory, then I don't know what. We've postponed our Minneapolis trip for a while - just too much going on. But that's okay - it's nice just to hang out, as well. So, a'hanging we will do... until I teach Sunday School tomorrow...

sunlight and nighttime

it shines on the chair starting at 1:45 these days. If I'm home I try to spend some time there. I brewed my peppermint tea, took my editing pages and a square of Ghiradelli dark mint chocolate and sat down. I tried to concentrate, but all I could feel was the warm sun on the right side of my face. It was warming up my hair, and I reached up to feel my hair, then felt the sun warming my hand, as well. So I left my hand up on top of my head and opened my folio to arrange the sheets. I set out my paper clips, and post-its, and highlighter. I looked down at the page, excited to start, and yet, it was as if something came over me. It felt like I was slipping deeper into the chair, and my vision became a bit blurry. Not like I'm sick or dizzy or anything, but like I really needed to take a nap. But I couldn't take a nap - I only had 20 minutes until Bill got out of school. So I did something else.

I put down the papers, sat up straighter, still keeping my face in the sun, then just stared straight ahead, not STARE stare, just gently stare. The whole room became softer, and thicker, if that makes sense, and I felt myself returning fully to myself, and it was an incredible feeling. I hadn't realized how far out I'd gotten these past few days, helping Steve on his campaign, talking about Jordan and what could help him, talking with Erik about his options, talking to Mom and Dad every day. I realize I have the tendency to lose myself pretty easily into other people's lives. I don't know what that is - control issues, I guess, like they NEED me or else they just can't have a good life.

I know that's not true - I know Steve to be a beautifully competent, intelligent, wonderful being. I know my mom and dad will be just fine, I know Jordan and Erik are creating their own lives, and I know that Kari is making perfect choices for herself. I'm here for everyone, I am - Mags and Melissa, Donna, Chitra, Julia and Marie - my bestest friends in the world. I'm here for you. But today I remembered to be here for ME, as well, and it was perfect. Stunningly perfect. I think I'll be here for myself tomorrow, preferably BEFORE Steve's press conference at 4 down at the HoDo.

Then I hear the still voice encouraging me, "Breathe," it whispers, "Breathe." So I do. And I feel happy. And perfectly filled up. What a beautiful day it is today - sunny, and cold. But that's all right, because everything travels on a spiral, and today is on the cold part, and next month will be on the warmer part. That's just the way it goes. It can't always be warm and sunny. That would burn everything up. I think that's what I want sometimes - for everyone to be alive and happy all of the time, but that's not a whole life, that's just a partial life. I believe in a whole life, as messy as it is. It's what makes me alive. But I DO love the sunlight on my face - I just do. But I also love the darkness of the night, when I can just rest for a while.

full moon rising

Steve walked in the door yesterday at noon, fresh from stock breaking hell with the market down 400 points. I greeted him with a big hug and just held him for a moment. Something was wrong. "Last night Jordan left at 2AM, headed for California," he said. A deep calm came over me and I said, "He's fine. It will all be fine. It's all okay. It's all right." Steve just looked at me. I wonder if he thought I would break down and get hysterical (okay, it's been known to happen), or get upset. But I didn't. Jordan needs to do what he needs to do - he's almost 20, and he knows what to do. We've given him all the help we can. At some point you realize you can't live someone's life FOR them - they're the only ones that can do it. We're here to support each other, to love each other, to inspire each other, and to care for each other, but we can't DO it for them. No one can.

We each have to live our own lives as we best see fit, influenced, perhaps, by those around us, but inevitably responsible for our decisions. It's no one's fault, how we choose to live our lives - sure, we may have had a crappy childhood, but crappy stuff happens all along. It's what we DO with what we're given that makes us who we are - it defines us, shapes us, helps us, even, in the end. You can spend your whole life blaming others, but what does that get you in the end? Probably nowhere, and you probably always feel pretty powerless, letting others control your life - "but it's not my fault - it's yours." We're strong - we can take responsibility for our lives, really we can. And that's when the deep change can begin - the transformation back to the fullness of our Being.

I hugged Steve, rubbed his back vigorously a few times, then patted him and wished him well on his speech to the delegates at the convention in Underwood. I told him to be himself, to be happy and confident, to believe in himself. I told him not to ever give up on his dream, but to keep his eye on his goal and just go for it.

This morning the full moon hung low and bright in the western sky. I thought it was a street light until I noticed how large it was. I love the moon - I love the full moon and the fingernail moon. I love how she just hangs in there, cycle after cycle, not needing to do anything else but reflect the sun back to us. I don't think she's a dead rock - I think she's a mirror, here to help us somehow, even if I don't quite know how. I can just feel her, and I make sure to spend the time just looking up, if for no other reason than to remind me that there's something more than just what we see down here. I think that's our sanity - remembering who we are. Who we REALLY are.

I love Jordan - I send him the reflection of who he really is back to him - a strong, handsome, intelligent, loving young man that has his whole world to look forward to - a world of his own choosing. I know that to be true, and I pray he knows that, as well.

playing the game

Don't look at your portfolio today. That's what Dad said. And Steve said. But I did. And I've now lost enough money to, well, I've lost a lot of money. But have I really "lost" it? Did I even "have" it in the first place? For all I can see, there are some numbers punched up onto a computer screen. There's no REAL money - just some numbers. Am I worried? It makes me a little sad to see how everyone's scrambling this morning, fearing that the whole world is falling apart, that the nation's in a recession, maybe headed for a depression. I sit back and try to figure out why. I know some would be quick to point fingers at the presidency, but I think that's a little too easy and convenient. In fact, I'd LOVE to have some of these people who are spending so much time complaining about the crappy job OTHERS are doing, would spend that same amount of time DOING something constructive. I don't know what they could do, but it doesn't help to spread that lower energy around.

When I sit back and meditate, I see myself sitting in a beautiful field, surrounded by gold. It's peaceful and quiet, and I'm extremely calm and happy. That's the reality I see for myself and my life - it's not about money or mortgages or portfolios, but I'm not in a position of losing my house, so I can't speak for those people. But I DO know that there's a lot more to this whole human experience than things, whether it's spending my time trying to manifest loads of money or trips or cars, or spending my time working at a job that brings me agony (won't do it - never have - never will), or struggling through the struggles because life is a struggle and I'm struggling (I don't believe that). I think it's not only possible at this time, but CRUCIAL, that we take the necessary time and steps to connect with our Higher Energies, our Higher Self, to God, and to STAY in that space, to FEEL what it feels like to reside in that reality, and commit to staying there. The more of us that are there, the more we can create THAT reality down here on Earth. It makes sense to me, and I sit here today feeling the difference between the two: fear or faith, hope or hopelessness, loss or love, illusion or inspiration. I know what I choose. The other is sheer madness, but go ahead and see for yourself - that's all that matters - what do YOU think? What works for you? What makes sense? We all have to figure this out for ourselves.

I wonder why there are those that make it all so difficult. They come to me for help - "HELP ME" they cry, so I tell them what I think they should do (my mistake). But they don't do anything, or do what they want to do, then paint themselves into yet another corner, and fling themselves at me saying "HELP ME." But I've run out of ways to help these particular people - I don't know how to help them anymore, so I hold their hands and say, "I love you, but you need to figure this out for yourself - this is your life. You need to live it. You can do it." We live the lives we see and believe. If you don't like your life, see another life for yourself. I'm reimagining my life every moment - is this what I want? Is this? What DO I want? I choose that. It's a process. But life isn't getting any "easier" down here on this physical plane. It's requiring us to become conscious creators of our own precious lives, not followers of others, but leaders of our own lives. Do what you need to do, but you may want to sit with other options, because a lot of the old ways aren't working anymore. That's what I've noticed around me, anyway. And I'm not playing the game anymore - the game of earthly realities - stock markets and mortgages and Lexus's (although I drove in one once and they ARE sweet cars) and big homes. Sometimes it feels like it's all coming crashing down around us. Why? I don't know for sure, but I think it has to do with peeling off the outer to reveal the true inner, and when I think about it, I only feel relief at where we're going. Home. To ourselves. Our true selves.

yay - it's here...

Digital mammography. I maybe shouldn't be SO excited, but I've been waiting for this for over 5 years. I was ready to travel to Minneapolis for it. I asked the technician here in Fargo if they've got it, and she said it cost $5 million dollars (if I'm remembering correctly - maybe that's too high), too expensive to justify. But aren't we women worth it? It takes less time, renders a clearer image, and doesn't expose us to any radiation. I've been wondering about that lately - I haven't had an x-ray taken in years (not dental or otherwise), but add them all up over the years - dental, doctor's, mammograms, and you get a hefty dose of radiation hits to your body. So - yay to Fargo - Innovis has it, Meritcare is getting it next year, and my place sometime after. Sorry, my place, I'm switching to Innovis for my imaging. Which brings me to my next thought for the day: exams.

Smart friend Dr. Maggie (I call her just Mags) came over yesterday to hang for a while and help me out with my naughty little ribby that won't stay in its socket (do ribs have sockets? Hmm...). We were talking about health care, and having insurance. In the back of my brain I'm always wondering if insurance is worth it, if you live a clean life. I haven't been to the doctor in over two years, except for my yearly exams, which cost a total of $1000. Insurance pays for my monthly visits to Dr. Deb, my chiropractor, and yearly vision tests and part of our dental costs. We pay around $3000 a year for insurance for all 6 of us - no one else has really been to the doctor, either - Erik for some bronchial stuff, that's it. Kari for some stuff, as well, but $3000 worth? So Mags says she keeps it for anticipated catastrophic emergencies that could cost thousands of dollars - I can see car accidents, etc., but still, is it worth it? She said she doesn't believe in testing. If you live a clean life, you won't get sick. But if Steve hadn't been monitoring his prostate, he would've gotten in serious trouble, not detecting his "stuff" and getting it removed to stop anything from spreading.

Even if we live clean lives, stuff happens - it just does. And I said that it might be worth monitoring our genetic issues - if everyone in our past had cholesterol issues, we may want to monitor that. Same with heart or diabetes. Just be aware and take all precautionary measures possible. I don't know - I don't pretend to know the answers, as I keep grappling with the precautionary testing (some say that by the time any abnormalities end up in your blood it's WAY too late - I can understand that, as well), but there's the competitive side of me that says, "triglycerides are only 63? That kicks butt. That's studly." I like comparing my "numbers" and seeing how healthy I am. Could I give that up? Probably. Do I want to? I don't know. But we've got digital mammography here in Fargo, and I, for one, will be among those women calling for their screenings.

Happy 2008

We're almost ready to send out our holiday cards - here's the picture we're using. Haney's does an unbelievable job, making everybody look SO GOOD. We're enjoying the clear blue sky, even if it's like 15 below - sometimes, just sometimes, I ask myself why we still live here (National Geographic article notwithstanding), then I remember - I love Fargo, I love North Dakota.

What I Love About North Dakota (and Fargo):
1. The HUGE open sky
2. Not very bad traffic (although pretty bad drivers)
3. The beautiful fields
4. The Fargo Theater
5. The terrain west of Bismarck
6. That we have a city named "Hill" (come to think of it, I'm assuming it's a city - maybe they're just pointing out that we actually have one hill in North Dakota?)
7. The eclectic nature of Fargo - anyone see that nun standing next to that young guy with 100 piercings?
8. We care - and we'll fight for what we believe in
9. We're loyal - hey, if you don't live in North Dakota, you probably won't get it, okay?
10. Everybody's either related, used to be married to each other, or went to school with someone else - just ask someone from North Dakota if they know ________ - I guarantee you they'll know them, or someone who knows them - seriously
11. Just about everything

So there you have it. I'm off to address 132 letters to delegates and District heads for Steve's PSC campaign - the letterhead is beautifully perfect (thanks, Sheyna - you're a genius), and we're off to the races (so to speak). I just love politics - knowing that you can make a difference - it makes me feel all excited inside.

and the walls come tumbling down...

Bill and I are sitting on a blowup two-seater sled in the front room. We're back to back, each reading our respective books. He, "Ice Fire" and me "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix." It was a hard day yesterday, I'm not going to lie. I won't go into the details, but there were some loud words, some tears, and some hearts beating fast. So it was nice to be alone with Bill, sitting back to back on the blowup sled, just relaxing. CRASH CRASH CRASH. The sound of glass smashing and things falling - LOUDLY and a lot of them. Bill sat up, stunned, and just looked at me. Oh no, is she going to stream and start crying? I opened my mouth ... and started laughing, really loudly. Seriously, what else could I do? Something really horrible had just happened, and we had no idea what.

We walked into the kitchen, and three shelves in our pantry had collapsed from too many things being placed on them - the burden was simply too much to bear, and they all collapsed. How could we fail to see the beautiful symbolism? It didn't get past me, so as I sit here typing, thinking I need to be responsible for my parents, my husband, and all 4 of my kids (not to mention my readers, clients, students and friends) I realize I may placed one too many low-sodium chicken broths on my pantry shelf, and it's in serious danger of collapse, so I took some broths off the shelf, and cleaned up the pantry floor, threw out what we never used anyway, and put back half that was there before. That sounds about right in my life, as well - take back 1/2 of what I'd carried. Most of it wasn't even mine to carry - I'm just so used to it, just like the shelves were before they came crashing down. I don't want to crash. I just don't want to carry so much.

The Land of Reality - Day 2

I washed the dirty blinds in our bathroom and cleaned the dust off the window ledge. I looked at it and thought, "This is clean, so why can't Mom be healthy and live longer?" I took a shower, flossed and brushed my teeth, put olive oil on my face and put on my makeup, then looked at myself in the mirror and thought, "I'm 100% clean, so why can't Mom be healthy and live longer?" I notice these things.

I gingerly step over the "incident" itself to the other side, to try on some different feelings. I see myself sitting quietly in a sun-drenched room, fully breathing in the pain. I see myself curled up on my bed, wrapped in my soft white blanket, crying, feeling alone. I see myself being brave, staying with Dad, just sitting with him and his enormous pain. I see myself hugging my other sisters, kindred spirits, motherless. I see myself reaching for the phone to call her, then realizing I have no mother to call. It's all a useless exercise, I know it is, but I like to be prepared. I've got control issues. I like to KNOW. But I won't know. I can't know until it's time. I have to stay present in each moment because that's all we've got anymore. Who knows what my world will look like 5 minutes from now? I know that's how it ALWAYS is, we never know, but this feels different, this Land of Reality. It feels, well, so present, if you know what I mean. But I'm choosing to stay here, and to strive to be as honest with myself and those around me as I possibly can. And I guess that's the best that anyone can ask for, right?

mom and dad

I've seen it there for the past 4 visits, at least, but I'm always busy, you know - I've got things to do, important things, like cook, organize, run errands, watch comedies. But this visit was different. I opened the lower cabinet on the island and took out the big metal bowl that Dad used to make bread in every Saturday morning. He keeps onions in it now. I took out the 2 cup glass pitcher, and the little bowls of what looks like baking soda and nutmeg (maybe it keeps bugs away?). I washed down the bottom of the cupboard, then got another wet paper towel and washed away the thing brown streak of something that had spilled countless days or month ago. It was on the insides of both of the cupboard doors. It's not as if anyone would ever have seen it, and it shouldn't have really mattered, but for some reason, this trip it did matter, so I cleaned it. Now I know it looks nice, and clean, and well taken care of, and loved.

Mom is still coughing a lot, and has trouble breathing, swallowing, and sleeping. I've been in the Land of Denial for some months now, but I decided this trip to return to the land of Reality, as cold and harsh as it may feel. My mother's going to die very soon now, and I want to be fully present for her passing. We went over more details for the funeral, and the gathering beforehand. I'm going to look for a good picture of her to blow up and frame for the altar, and put the funeral service notes in the folder with the rest of the information we got together last summer. We'll be all set.

I watched Mom sleeping today. She spends most of her days in her blue recliner, even most of her nights now. I watched her mouth moving and her body twitching - maybe she's remembering her younger years when she could talk loudly and chase us around. The tears started - no surprise - I cry very easily these days - then I looked over at Dad. He was looking at her, too. With such a look of tenderness in his eyes that that really made me start crying. But I figured he couldn't see me as I was sitting at least 10 feet away. He looked up at me and nodded really big and smiled, and I smiled back at him and nodded. It's okay, it's good, it's perfect, it's beautiful, but it is just so d*** hard to love someone so much that you wish stupidly that they could live just forever. Can't be done - shouldn't be done - this is just a stopover, I know, I know, you don't need to remind me or tell me everything will be all right, because I don't know how I'll feel afterward. I don't know if I'll be able to give her eulogy, or if I'll be doing that hiccuping kind of crying where I can't even speak. Maybe I'll be calm and beautiful and have a strong voice. I just don't know.

Maybe I'll cry for a year, maybe I won't. I know I'll be sad, but maybe it will be different than I think. I just don't know. I've never lost my mother this time around. Maybe I'll talk to Sandy, who lost her dad last summer, or Dave, who lost both his mom and dad, or John, who lost both HIS mom and dad, or Carol, or Shannon. I get it - there are many out there, and it's the natural "Lion King" circle of life thing - I get it. But still ... returning to the bare Land of Reality is kind of taking my breath away right at the moment, and I'm having a little trouble concentrating on much of anything, so forgive me, will you? I know it will be just the way it's supposed to be, so I'm concentrating on just putting one foot in front of the other, and being grateful for everything I have in my life.

leaving in a hybrid...

sung to the tune of "leaving on a jet plane." Off to Bismarck to see Mum and Dad for a few days, almost fully recuperated from pulling a rib out (again) - phew, that hurts a lot. I don't even know it's happened until I can't breathe. I'm sitting here thinking about my Work, and about the 180 my life has done in the past 6 months. I've gone from teaching Reiki, holding gatherings and healings, teaching at Moorhead Comm. Ed, teaching at my offices, speaking and leading workshops all over the place, to finishing up with my clients who've scheduled, to writing almost full-time and helping Steve on his campaign. It's exactly what I want to be doing, but it's so odd that after 20 years of being on the frontlines, taking the hits and the facing into the wind, standing firm and staying for the alternative community, being a voice for what the eye cannot see, to feeling almost, shudder, normal. What does that even mean? I'm not sure at this point, but it's as if something has lifted from my shoulders, some burden, maybe, that it's up to ME to "help" Fargo and the area get exposed to spiritual options. It's good work, I love my Work, and I know I'll always do it, but something has shifted, and it feels good, like I'm letting out a huge sigh. Besides, there are a lot of others who are using their voices to do spiritual work, and although I'm not familiar with all of it, and don't resonate with some of it, it's all good in this big wide wonderful world, right?

So I leave for a few days, to cook, and clean, and organize, and lay hands on Mum and Dad, and laugh with them, and help however I can, because I love them, and that's what you do when you love someone - you sit with them, and you stay. And so I'm Steve's right hand woman in his campaign - helping him, supporting him, encouraging him, believing in him. And what's next for me? I don't know - it's all wide open, like a big field, and I sit in it with my eyes closed and a smile on my face, and wonder what will happen next - it's magic, it is. And I believe in it, and I believe in my life.

news and miracles

The press release went out yesterday. I've taken these past two weeks to work on Dad's book, and the last week to help Steve. I had no idea there was so much work to getting these first steps done. We've pulled together an amazing team to help us, and it warms me to see how many people are excited about Steve going for the PSC office. Sheyna made an AMAZING logo for us, with a windmill and "wind" blowing across the "Risher" - just perfect for what he believes in - alternative energy resources and freshness for the state. I've been praying for help - "just help us" is my daily prayer. So the first "miracle" was finding the perfect pen for promotion. I know, it may seem like a tiny thing, but let me explain.

Bill and I had lunch at the Plains, to hug Andrea and wish her best wishes in her new culinary endeavors, and we saw these great blue pens with silver sparkles in them. The Plains Art Museum uses them for their promotion. I asked them where they got them. They didn't know - they'd had them over 4 years. Now, what are the odds that I could go on-line and find those EXACT pens? Well, it took me about 30 seconds to track them down - Galaxy Pens, they are, so I say a HUGE thank you to the Universe for your Help. Also, we heard yesterday that there was a news story in which some of the Republicans were encouraging Stenhjem NOT to run because he's the Majority Speaker, and the Democrats could come in then, and, well, it's all politics, isn't it? If that's true, that would give Stevie a little more fighting chance.

Speaking of Republicans and Democrats, I had a few surprised friends - "you guys are Republicans? Surely YOU'RE a Democrat, Susie." I don't know what that last statement means, but I've heard it quite a lot in the last 20 years, and most of my friends are Democrats (or Libertarians, or Green Party), but my logic is this: we need ALL voices represented in ALL parties, don't we? Otherwise we can get too polarized and rigid, so I like the idea that we can be inspirational, visionary, FOR the citizens AND Republican. Why are there the strict lines, anyway? Or ARE there any lines? I don't know - I like to think that we're free to do what we want to do, and express ourselves however we feel best fits our needs. And besides, I've got smart Republican friends, and smart Democrat friends. I don't care what you are, or what you CALL yourself - if we can talk and respect each other, and hear what each other is saying, that's the most important thing.

So we keep seeing miracles all around us, and keep being thankful, and keep asking for help from friends and families - just spread the word, I think, as we still need to get the Republican endorsement first. It's exciting, it's fun, it's invigorating to think that Steve will make a difference in this state, because I love North Dakota, and her people, and we stay because we believe in it. And that's all I've got to say about THAT.

IT'S OFFICIAL

Steve sent his papers off to Al Jaeger's office yesterday, and his press release is going out later today. Let me explain: Steve was a Cass County Commissioner a while back and really loved it. He ran for office because he said if you don't like the way something is done, then do something about it. For him that meant becoming an active part of change and he'd been feeling that pull again for the past two years, but didn't know what office he felt passionate about. The answer came about 6 months ago. We sat down and I said, "If you could do ANYTHING in the whole world, no limits, what would you do?"

"Be the Public Service Commissioner," he answered. "That's where I can do the most good right now."

Why? I asked. Because PSC sets rates for cell phones, and sets regulations about pipelines and alternative energy, and I hope I'm getting everything accurate, because when he mentioned alternative energy I perked up - wind energy, solar, water - my current passions. I could help, too. But there were no positions open, until a couple weeks ago when Susan Wefald announced she wouldn't be running again. A miracle? That's what I'm thinking. So we're getting our act together, gathering our help, our committee's forming, and he's got an inspired, fresh game plan.

I'm so proud of him- he's the most dedicated, hardworking person I know - when he has a vision, he gives it his all. So I continue with Dad's book project AND join my husband's campaign for freshness and vision. Are we excited? Heck yes. He's getting a website (I already put together a blog for him) - boy, there's a lot of work involved, but it's blown newness throughout our whole house - faith in tomorrow, belief in making a difference. Watch for those t-shirts around the state - maybe a cute bumper sticker or flashy pen? Can you tell I'm in charge of that stuff? Cute is key - hah. So here's to tomorrow, here's to caring enough to get in the game, here's to new things coming into our lives.

P.S. A special request for love and hugs to Pam and Larry Sabby upon hearing the news of the passing of Larry's sweet dad. I love you both.

interesting form

I don't know how I got on the Health Freedom's e-mail list, but I read today's report and found it interesting, in light of the fact that I had a little chat with my sweet pediatrician about vaccines recently. I respect him, but I found myself disagreeing with some of his logic. Health Freedom suggests (probably mildly tongue-in-cheek) bringing this form to your doctor's and having him or her sign it before giving your child a vaccine. See what you think. At the very least, it brings up some VERY interesting questions - do they REALLY use sheep's blood in vaccines? Yuck. I don't know what anyone else thinks about the whole vaccine thing but I can tell you that I HAD the measles, mumps and chicken pox when I was growing up, and now there are vaccines for absolutely everything, it seems. My smart friend Maggie says there's a test called the Tighter Method that can test for antibodies in your blood, and if you have them, then you don't need that vaccine. Now THAT makes sense to me. I haven't researched it yet, though. But for your viewing pleasure, here's the form from Health Freedom:

PHYSICIAN’S WARRANTY OF VACCINE SAFETY

I (Physician’s name, degree)_________________________, _____ am a physician licensed to practice medicine in the State of ________________ . My State license number is __________________ , and my DEA number is _______________.
My medical specialty is __________________________________________________________.

I have a thorough understanding of the risks and benefits of all the medications that I prescribe for or administer to my patients. In the case of (Patient’s name)___________________________ , age _________________ , whom I have
examined on this date __________________________________________, I find that in my professional judgment certain risk factors exist that justify the recommended vaccinations. The following is a list of said risk factors and the vaccinations that
will, in my professional judgment, protect against them:

Risk Factor Vaccination:
_________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________

I am aware that vaccines typically contain many of the following
fillers:

• aluminum hydroxide
• aluminum phosphate
• ammonium sulfate
• amphotericin B
• animal tissues: pig blood, horse blood, rabbit brain,
• dog kidney, monkey kidney,
• chick embryo, chicken egg, duck egg
• calf (bovine) serum
• betapropiolactone
• fetal bovine serum
• formaldehyde
• formalin
• gelatin
• glycerol
• human diploid cells (originating from human aborted fetal tissue)
• hydrolized gelatin
• mercury thimerosol
• monosodium glutamate (MSG)
• neomycin
• neomycin sulfate
• phenol red indicator
• phenoxyethanol (antifreeze)
• potassium diphosphate
• potassium monophosphate
• polymyxin B
• polysorbate 20
• polysorbate 80
• porcine (pig) pancreatic hydrolysate of casein
• residual MRC5 proteins
• sorbitol
• sucrose
• tri(n)butylphosphate,
• VERO cells, a continuous line of monkey kidney cells, and
• washed sheep red blood

and, hereby, warrant that these ingredients are safe for injection into the body of my patient. Reports to the contrary, such as reports that mercury thimerosol causes severe neurological and immunological damage, are not credible. I am aware
that some vaccines have been found to have been contaminated with Simian Virus 40 (SV-40) and that SV-40 is causally linked by some researchers to non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma and mesotheliomas in humans as well as in experimental animals.

I hereby give my assurance that the vaccines I employ in my practice do not
contain SV 40 or any other live viruses. (Alternately, I hereby give my assurance that said SV-40 or other viruses pose no substantive risk to my patient.)

I hereby warrant that the vaccines I am recommending for the care of (Patient’s name) ______________________________________ do not contain any cells from aborted human babies (also known as “fetuses”).

In order to protect my patient’s well being, I have taken the following steps to guarantee that the vaccines I will use will contain no damaging contaminants.

Steps taken:
__________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________

I have personally investigated the reports made to the VAERS (Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System) and state that it is my professional opinion that the vaccines I am recommending are safe for administration to a child under the age of 5 years as well as for patients over that age.

The bases for my opinion are itemized on Exhibit A , attached hereto, “Physician’s Bases for Professional Opinion of Vaccine Safety.” (Please itemize each recommended vaccine separately along with the basis for arriving at your professional conclusion that the vaccine is safe for administration to a child under the age of 5 years and indicate which information provides the basis for arriving at your professional conclusion that the vaccine is safe for administration to a patient over that age.)

The professional journal articles and other peer reviewed sources I have relied upon in the issuance of this Physician’s Warranty of Vaccine Safety are itemized on Exhibit B , attached hereto, “Scientific Articles in Support of Physician’s Warranty of Vaccine Safety.”

The professional journal articles or other peer reviewed sources that I have read which contain opinions adverse to my opinion are itemized on Exhibit C , attached hereto, “Scientific Articles Contrary to Physician’s Opinion of Vaccine Safety.”

The reasons for my determining that the articles in Exhibit C were invalid are delineated in Attachment D , attached hereto, “Physician’s Reasons for Determining the Lack of Validity of Adverse Scientific Opinions.”

Hepatitis B: I understand that 60% of patients who are vaccinated for Hepatitis B will lose detectable antibodies to Hepatitis B within 12 years. I understand that in 1996 only 54 cases of Hepatitis B were reported to the CDC in the 0-1 year age group. I understand that in the VAERS, there were 1,080 total reports of adverse reaction from Hepatitis B vaccine in 1996 in the 0-1 year age group, with 47 vaccination-associated deaths reported.

I understand that 50% of patients who contract Hepatitis B develop no symptoms after exposure. I understand that 30% will develop only flu-like symptoms and will develop lifelong immunity.

I understand that 20% will develop the symptoms of the disease, but that 95% will fully recover and have lifetime immunity. I understand that 5% of the patients who are exposed to Hepatitis B will become chronic carriers of the
disease. I understand that 75% of the chronic carriers will live with an asymptomatic infection and that only 25% of the chronic carriers will develop chronic liver disease or liver cancer, 10-30 years after the acute infection.

The following studies have been performed to demonstrate the safety of the Hepatitis B vaccine in children under the age of 5 years.
__________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________

The following studies have been performed to demonstrate the safety of the Hepatitis B vaccine in patients over the age of 5 years.
__________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________

In addition to the recommended vaccinations as protections against the above cited risk factors, I have recommended other non-vaccine measures to protect the health of my patient and have enumerated said non-vaccine measures in Exhibit D,
attached hereto, “Non-vaccine Measures to Protect Against Risk Factors.”

I am issuing this Physician’s Warranty of Vaccine Safety in my professional
capacity as the attending physician to (Patient’s name) ________________________________.

Regardless of the legal entity under which I normally practice medicine, I am issuing this statement in both my business and individual capacities and hereby waive any statutory, Common Law, Constitutional, UCC, international treaty, and
any other legal immunities from liability lawsuits in the instant case. I issue this document of my own free will after consultation with competent legal counsel whose name is _____________________________, an attorney admitted to
the Bar inthe State of __________________________________ .

__________________________________ (Name of Attending Physician)

__________________________________ L.S. (Signature of Attending Physician)

Signed on this _______ day of ______________ A.D. ________

Witness: ____________________________ Date:_________________________

Notary Public: Name______________________________ Signature ________________________________________ Seal___________________________________________ Signed Before Me This Date:_________________________

wisdom from my Mom and Dad - part 1

Dad - "Why would anyone want to look younger anyway? Just look at all these beautiful lines." He holds up his big, beautiful, lined hands and admires them.

Mom - "Sure there's probably some more stuff that I could work on, but I think, hey, at my age, I've done enough. Now I'm just going to enjoy every minute I'm alive."

Dad - "If you can do something you love and get paid for it, you'll be the happiest person alive."

Mom - "I'm happy right now, very peaceful and content. I wish I'd figured that out years ago."

Dad - "You've got to eat a peck of dirt." (in reference to just DOING stuff, not worrying about cleaning everything, or getting dirty)

And so it goes. I'm almost done with the editing part of Dress Gray - it's absolutely fascinating reading, and I'm really proud of the way I can fit the pictures and articles and letters with the text. Sheyna found some fabulous archival pictures to use, so that inspired me to go on the West Point website and find some more pictures to use. This book project is so much more than a book project - it's Dad's heritage, it's me showing my love for Mom and Dad, it's learning about another era, plus it's interesting. I never really had an appreciation for Dad going to West Point, but the more I read about it, he was the cream of the crop, and even graduated 54th out of a class of 1000. Wow - that's something, isn't it? And he's my dad. And he loves Mom, and Mom's "pretty pro and spoony," to quote Dad. I've started a blog for the book, but it isn't really up and running quite yet - I'll let you know when it is.

Also, we've got some BIG BIG news at our house, but we won't issue the press release until tomorrow, so I'll have to break the news then. But I promise you'll be the first to know...

for one more day

As part of my New Year's "Revolutions" I'm finishing reading all of the "started" books in my extensive library. I don't have a count, but if you really need one, I'll get on that today. I thought I'd start small, so I picked up "for one more day" by Mitch Albom. I'd already read about half (why do we DO that? I have no idea...), so I thought it would be a quick one day read. Bill's in a reading challenge for school - they're supposed to read 1000 minutes by the end of the year for a present, but Bill figured out that if he read an hour a day, he could get over 5000 minutes in 12 weeks, and that would be a new world record for his teacher. And my son loves challenges (I wonder where he gets that from? Hmmm), so we get all sorts of juicy reading time now (no tv - thank goodness). So we curled up on our overstuffed striped couch in the front room, lit a blueberry cobbler soy candle from O'Day Cache (check them out - SERIOUSLY, they're FAB), sipped on our peppermint tea, and settled into a long reading session (my idea of heaven, and I'm not even kidding). This is what I read:

"Is Miss Thelma dying, too?"
"Soon," my mother said.
I stepped in front of her.
"Mom. Please?"
"She called for me, Charley."
We both looked toward the bed.
"Miss Thelma? She summoned you?"
"No, sweetheart. I came to her mind, that's all. I was a thought. She wished I was still around and could help her look pretty, not as sick, so here I was."
"A thought?" I looked down. "I'm lost"
My mother moved closer. Her voice softened. "Have you ever dreamt of someone who's gone, Charley, but in the dream you have a new conversation? The world you enter then is not so far from the world I'm in now."
She put one hand on mine. "When someone is in your heart, they're never truly gone. They can come back to you, even at unlikely times."

Seriously - goosebumps from head to toe - my trigger that something's True for me. Why did I read that on this particular day, out of all the thousands of books on my shelves? I don't know, but I did, and it's perfect. Absolutely perfect.

I continue to do my deep conscious breathing every day, I continue to take my antioxidants, I continue to meditate in the morning and at night, I continue to do my long-distance healing for my family and friends, I continue to keep the pace of my life slow enough so I can be here, I continue to see the beauty all around me and be thankful for it, I continue to be amazed at the abundance in my life - it's all filled to overflowing, and I love my life. And everything in it. For one more day...

getting ready and letting go

I'm getting ready for something; I don't know quite what yet. I'm seeing everything through new eyes. Actually, that's how I've felt increasingly for the past two years, but this is a physical thing - whatever was in my old world that doesn't belong in my new world is being recycled, thrown out, or given away. What fits gets to stay, which fits my old mantra "what is true, remains." It's probably silly and redundant (you can say that again) to say this, but I never really quite realized how much "stuff" I own. I mean, I'm sure everyone could say that, but I really FEEL that. Every knick knack, every piece of extra china, every book, and CD on my shelf, every piece of paper - so much. Too much, really - it's weighing me down, so off it goes. It's all about letting go - the second part of my day today.

I'm the type of person that hangs on to things - memories, hurts, good feelings, people, sentimental things (those especially - family stuff - if you throw it out you're effectively throwing that PERSON out that it belonged to - seriously, it's what I think). But when you hang on to anything that shouldn't be hung onto, it becomes a weight on you, because now you have to carry it. Now, accumulate a whole lot of stuff to hold onto and you become paralyzed with stuff. It's like your computer that runs out of hard drive. Ironically, my old Apple says my hard drive is full, no matter what I delete. There's some deep symbolism in there somewhere. I'm hanging on to my mom and dad - I just don't want them to die. Either of them, ever, and that is the silliest thing I can ever type, but I'm honest when I type it, so I will. If I tentatively try to fast forward to the time when neither of them will be here, well, it's just too much for me. I don't possibly see how I could do it right now - not to have them? They're two of my best friends, two of the finest people I know. They're who I aspire to be. Why? Let me tell you five facts about each of my parents:

Mom:
1. She's a fighter - god, I want to be just like here - she just doesn't give up. Ever.
2. She's got a sense of humor - even in the hospital, she jokes with everyone that comes in.
3. She's grateful - she thanks Dad every time he brings her her pills or a glass of ice water, or rubs lotion on her feet.
4. She's generous - with her time and her things - she will talk to a friend who's having a bad day, even if she's tired, and gives college scholarships to local kids, only asking them to do the same for someone else later on.
5. She's trusting - even though she knows she's close to dying, she says, "I know it's a beautiful, warm, loving place that I'm going to - I'm not scared."

Dad:
1. He's a worker - yeah, he is - from his childhood years of catching minnows for pay to his adult years of working shifts running cameras when the cameramen were stranded in the blizzard to his later years of lovingly and selflessly taking care of Mom 24/7.
2. He's a Renaissance man - he taught himself how to program computers (back in the early 80's), to playing classical guitar, to violin, to piano, to art, to model airplanes. Where there's an interest, there's Bill.
3. He's interesting - he can talk to absolutely ANYBODY intelligently about anything and know what he's talking about.
4. He's loving - even when everyone else has turned their backs on someone, he's still standing there with his arms open, waiting to welcome them back, never judging or blaming.
5. He's patient - it can't be easy for Dad right now, but I have rarely seen him lose his temper. When I ask him about it, he says, "I'm just grateful for every day I get to spend with that woman."

So what is this about? I started on my things and my life, and ended with my love for my parents - both about getting ready and letting go, I'm thinking.

a hill of junk

Okay, just my junk, other people's treasures, but it's grown to literally the size of a small mountain. I can't stop decluttering - this morning, after an all-night marathon of "Scrubs," I got up at 6AM and cleaned Bill's room top to bottom - poor kid woke up to the vacuum in his ear around 8. Worked my way into the spare bedroom and dragged all of his stuffed animals out. We found the ones we could give away, but he teared up as he held them all to say good-bye, so I think we'll wait until he's at school to walk them out the door.

What is this decluttering madness? I can't say for sure, but I think it has to do with the new energy place I'm in. It's a place that doesn't have any room for unwanted stuff, and boy, do we have unwanted stuff. The utility room got it last week - 4 garbage sacks hauled out to the curb, with a baby mountain of giveaway stuff from that room. Is it any wonder "Clean Sweep" is one of my favorite shows?

It all started when I got back from Mom and Dad's. I help them get organized, and the momentum seems to carry over into my own house (our house needs it, let me tell you). So I know the key is not to replace anything with new valuable "stuff." That's plain silly, but I don't think we're doing that. We're getting ready for something, something big is coming, and even if we don't know quite WHAT, we do know that it IS coming, and that's enough to get us all mobilized, organized, and ready for anything. Besides, it just plain feels great to have all your DVD's in one place, all your books together, your old toys given to kids who need them. So I'm spending the next week clearing everything out of the house, oh, and seeing clients, but this is my main push, and lord knows I go with my intuition.

I love goals, I love plans, I love accomplishing goals, and I love how our house is beginning to feel - more open, like it's saying a big "ahhhhhhhhhh." Happy 2008, everyone, it's starting out with a bang.