The Way Of The Buddha

This is my dream come true. My blurry, furry scaredy cat. This is Buddha. We have been together for just over 2 months. In that short time, he has taught me many things. Patience is near the top of the list, due to his skittish ways, after spending 2 years in cat shelters. Trust is one notch above patience, with the lesson it must be earned through repetition of positive, unhurried offerings. At the very top of the list of the teachings of Buddha is the new understanding that dreams come to us disguised.

Last autumn, when I decided to adopt a companion for my young cat, Remmington, I declared a list of wishes to the Universe. This new cat needed to be friendly, lovable and playful. A best friend to Remmi. I asked that the 2 cats would be so bonded they would nap together. I asked for a minimum of disagreements between them. I asked for a non-destructive cat, as Remmi had already done his share to alter the look of my home. Buddha, it turns out, has supplied all that and more.

Although Buddha is still nervous when I am upright or walking, preferring to get his love-pets when I'm less imposing, he is the very best of friends with Remmington. They chase each other, eat out of the same bowl at the same time, hide side by side under my bed, and sleep curled up together on a burgundy, fleece blanket. Remmi licks Buddha's head profusely and has decided that long, stripey tail is his very favorite toy. They have argued once. This feline scenario is everything I asked for.

But I almost didn't recognize it. I declared my wishes for a companion cat, and at the same time formulated a vision of how that wish should be granted. What the qualifying cat should look like and act like from the start. Because of my imposing, controlling visions, I initially dismissed Buddha the first time I saw him. He seemed to offer none of my wishes, cowering behind a chair, even though the little Universal bread crumb trail led me right to him. It took me 3 weeks of scavenging cat shelters, with not a single, viable candidate, to finally understand the Universe chose Buddha to fulfill my wishes. When I was able to let go of how I thought the wish should be granted, the message became loud and clear. And Buddha finally got a home.

From now on, I will live the way of the Buddha. I will ask for my needs and my dreams to be met, but I will cease to impose my own narrow ways on the outcomes and the answers. I will send up my prayers, apply patience and trust in a power much greater than me, and look for fulfillment outside the confines of my ego. I will stop limiting myself. I will stop interfering with the natural flow of goodness. I will open my mind and my heart and let my dreams come true.

Giving Away Strength

Just a simple piece of cotton cloth. With strings and maybe a pocket. Colorful. Useful. Fashionable once upon a time. Holder of eggs, apples, new chicks. Wiper of hands, brows, tears. Covered in flour, blood, cinnamon. Potholder, dishtowel, dust cloth. Stain blocker, dress preserver, substitute lingerie.

Symbol of strength. Endurance. Compassion. Sustenance. Safety. Nurturing love.

Every one's grandmother wore one. Mine still does.

I collect them. And wear them. Mostly for cooking. Sometimes for fun. Always with respect for the strength of the women who have gone before me. The ones who had less than me and did more with less than my generation can fathom.

I want to share this strength with you. This symbol of the Goddess of hearth and home, the Goddess of bountiful feasts, the Goddess of dignity in trying circumstances, the Goddess of love.

How you ask?

Leave me a comment stirred with sweetness. Wait for February 6th. One lovely believer in strength will have her (or his?) name drawn from the pocket to receive a colorful, vintage apron from my collection and a 5x7 professionally printed copy of the apron picture above. Be daring. De-lurk. Raise your hand for a little strength.

Opalescent Breath

You are never alone. You are never without love. No matter your circumstances, your sorrows, your waning strength, I say to you, your soul is valued and held aloft. If you could only see the opalescent breath of the angels who surround you, you would never kneel down in your trench of despair.

They are there, right beside you, lighting candles to illuminate your thoughts, whispering love poems meant only for you. Their hands lay over your heart, warming and soothing that doorway to splendor realised and love fulfilled.

Angels surround you. Even as you breathe in this moment, they surround you. Cheering you on, wiping your eyes, creating pathways, standing guard. They surround you. Because you are never, ever to be alone. You are never, ever to be without love. Your worth is too great. Your soul matters too much. The light that is yours is meant to shine.

For Michael, Elke, Ahmed, Paula, Kasia, Sally and you.

Inert

Dear January,

In so many ways, you have become one of my favorite months. I love the permission you give to hibernate and drink gallons of hot tea and create soup. I love that your indoor fashion requirements include velour pants. I love the scarves you insist I wrap myself in. I love the silence of your snow.

What I am starting not to love, however, is the tendency to become inert under your watch. The inactive, dull and slow pace of my life; the disinclination to accomplish anything; this is starting to tarnish my love for you, January. Dullness is a slippery slope. It can melt into mild depression. And I certainly don't need that.

So, today, dear January, I will brave your ridiculously low temperatures, shed my velour skin and venture out to play. I need to make my own sunshine because you've been stingy with yours. I need to balance my brain with laughter and pleasant distraction, hot food and good company. I need to add some colors to my month before I become a singular shade of blue.

What's Your Pledge?

Watch this video. Then think about what you are going to do to help turn this country right side up again. Make a pledge. Make a promise. To yourself and everyone else. Be the change you have been waiting for by activating a cause or a calling that lives deep in your heart. Let your love light shine. Be the change. Make a pledge. Share your intentions with our world. It's a brand new day.

I pledge to express more love more often.

I pledge to light more candles in dark situations.

I pledge to use less water.

I pledge to take good care of myself so I may be of service to others.

What's your pledge? I'd love, love to hear it.

Thank You For Your Support

Dear Graciel,

You are embarking on an Odyssey of the soul from which you will return to your home shores a permanently changed person. You are right to care for your spiritual center, because it is the compass that will guide you safely through the storms. Life took me on that journey six years ago. Let the tears flow when they must. Attend to the turning of the seasons, and watch for the coming of Spring. Nature teaches us everything we need to know.This experience will enrich your soul in ways you cannot imagine. Your mother is a lucky mom to have a daughter like you.

Love, Arnie

Dear Arnie,

You have no idea how much your words and wisdom have meant to me. Yes, this is an Odyssey, unplanned for, unwanted, but here nonetheless. I have yet to get used to waking each morning and shedding a few tears before rising. So much is shifting. So much seems out of order. Because my grandmother, at 89, is still thriving, driving and living on her own, my mother contracting a life-threatening illness was not on the radar. But here we are. Here I am, slowly realizing the landscape of my life is in the process of changing forever.

In my effort to support my mother, as well as my father on the front lines, I have found the Universe is supplying, in copious amounts, sweet and welcome support for me. If you've noticed, I have received lovely comments from lovely people. I have received emails and phone calls and hugs in person from good and gracious friends. Heidi gave me a cancer cookbook for the times, starting now, when taste buds are ruined but nutrition must be taken. Lynn gave me a pocket-full of my beloved Mary. And Don made a badge of courage for me to wear. I am wearing it right now.

I am sure you know, Arnie, how precious each and every offering can be. One small gesture can be the difference between breaking down and carrying on with what must be faced and accomplished. It is a round robin of support, with the ultimate goal being that we are each of us, the givers and receivers, nourished, loved and made to feel whole. Every difficult scenario is merely an opportunity to pull more love out of the often-closed chambers of our hearts.

So, thank you, Arnie for your experience-laden support. Thank you Heidi, Lynn and Don. Thank you to each of my friends-of-the-heart who took the time to write a comment, send an email, call me, hug me and say a prayer. Without shame, I will ask for more. Because, for God's work to be accomplished, for my mother to keep her faith and strength, for me to keep my thoughts to the positive and act courageously, for sweetness and joy to live in all our souls, love must flow.

Danke. Merci. Gracias. Thanks.

Love, Graciel

A Holy Time

There comes a holy and transparent time

when every touch of beauty

opens the heart to tears.

This is the time the Beloved of heaven

is brought tenderly on earth.

This is the time of the opening of the rose.

Hazrat Inayat Khan

Recharging My Faith

Today, I interrupted my regularly scheduled life to recharge my faith. I sat tucked into one corner of my sofa for hours, Kleenex, green tea and warm cat at hand. I allowed myself to simply be. I varied between classical music and silence, warm cat in my arms and warm cat on my feet, waves of tears and waves of calm. Slowly, my sense of self rose to the surface. Stillness is such a swift path back to balance.

In the stillness and be-ness and me-ness, Wisdom whispered. She told me many things about loving myself, nurturing myself and being brave. She told me to live my life to the fullest so my Mother could leave in peace when ever it is she decides to go. She told me to use this opportunity to openly offer love to the world. She told me to be shiny.

But the most significant and resonant thing she told me was this: The greatest love I have yet to experience is coming. It already lives inside of me, but it is going to be drawn out by purposeful circumstances. I will be amazed at its curative strength. I will be amazed. Wisdom said to prepare myself. And to let it come.

A Collective Effort

I sat, this morning, in the oncologist's office with my mother. The doctor explained the procedure for today's first experience with chemotherapy. "We'll do everything we can, but you must know this is incurable. We hope to give you 3 to 3 1/2 years", she said to my mother. That was the first time my mother or me had heard those words. I have been stalwart and positive since the news first broke of my mother's new dance with cancer. But, today, in that unadorned room with the teal-flecked carpet my lip started to quiver. Before I could bite the side of my tongue to distract myself from tears, a river fell out of my eyes. My mother saw me.

My first thought was, "No, don't you say that to my mother. Don't you fill her mind with doubt. Don't you speak in your powerful white-coat words of anything but hope and possibility and the power of positive attitudes". But the doctor did not. So I forced her to. Through sobs in my throat I said, "I want you to tell my mother about the patients you have seen whose cancer has been eradicated. Tell her about the ones who have survived." As it turns out, 2 of her patients with the same condition as my mother have beaten it. One is in her 10th year, one is in his 15th. Living normal lives.

Before the chemotherapy drip started, with my arms around my mother, I told her I believe with every fiber of my being she will pass through this journey with cancer and come out the other side. Alive. I told her words are so powerful in directing the course of one's life. We are only going to focus on the positives and the possibilities. 3 years is unacceptable. We are going to use the power of our collective minds to love you back to health. The medical profession, for all its vast good and needfulness, only focuses on the body. It is only one part of the equation of good health. Let the doctors do what they do, but we will take care of your mind and heart.

And so the clear liquid slid into my mother's veins while we cried some more and talked of flowers and vowed to keep focused on the positive. Call me stubborn. I am. Call me arrogant. At times. But do not call me uneducated in the ways and needs of the soul. I wear my own white coat, dear doctor. You do your part in the collective effort to walk my mother through the shadowed valley. I will do mine, and mine is no less needful than yours.

The Orchid Place

The Orchid Place 2

I live a blessed life. I ask everyday to be blessed by my Higher Power, and you know, I get what I ask for. The more I remember to ask, the more I am given the opportunity to receive. The opportunity, I said. Meaning, it is up to me to reach out and take the blessings that are presented before me. I could also choose to let the blessings pass right on by and then complain how I never get a break. Or how unlucky I am. Or, poor me, how I'm always being overlooked.

But no. I ask to be blessed and then I keep my mind and eyes as open as possible. It takes practice to spot blessings disguised in opportunities. I'm getting good at it now. There's room for improvement, sure, but recently an opportunity came and I said "YES!" in big letters. Days later, I still feel the lovely, lingering effects of my blessed excursion to The Orchid Place.

The Orchid Place, in Ithaca , NY, is a greenhouse for phalaenopsis orchids. Being a newbie orchid lover, still feeling the blissful honeymoon effect of my romance with these plants, the greenhouse was a gateway to heaven. The rows and rows and rows of happy, blooming faces made me swoon. I swear I heard them singing. Or maybe that was me. In any case, the enchanting experience of wafting through thousands of my favorite blooming plant was a blessing. With a capital B.

So I plan to keep asking to be blessed. I plan to open my eyes and mind even wider. I plan to say "yes" to more opportunities than I ever did before. I plan to receive heaven as I live.

The ABC's Of Loving Yourself

Abandon doubt.
Be yourself in all situations.
Care for yourself first and foremost.
Do not criticize yourself.
Eat all things in moderation.
Forgive your imagined faults.
Give generously.
Honor your instincts.
Invite adventure into your life.
Just say "yes".
Kiss the back of your own hand.
Listen to your heart.
Make amends.
Never call yourself "stupid".
Open to new opportunities.
Play.
Question dogma.
Rise above negativity.
See the beauty within you clearly.
Tell the truth.
Understand your needs.
Value your own opinion.
Wield your power responsibly.
Xpress your talents.
Yield to softness.
Zip your lips before you start to gossip.

The Art Of Talent

"Minutiae" 1954, by Robert Rauschenberg

Among the great passions of my life is Art. I love to read about it, love to look at it, love to feel its pulses dervishing my cells to higher vibrations. I also like to create it. But my ideas for expressing it, for the most part, remain tight in a bud. I have yet to harness the willpower, or turn off the infernal, internal editor, or allow the proper space and time to simply let the impulses~ the in-pulses~ take over and spill out. I have yet to let what is in my head and heart BLOOM.

This is the year, I pray, as per my one word edict, to let more of who I am rise to the surface and flower. To do that will require allowing myself to be imperfect in public. This is not on the German heritage list of approved behaviors. It's unsafe, you see. But I realize it's the path to letting the petals fall open.

Also on the path, not being afraid to be talented. Sounds crazy, doesn't it? Not really. I hold myself down for fear of outshining those around me, for fear of losing the support of those who live small lives like myself. In a backwards way, I have felt I would be left alone if I expressed my talents too openly. People I care about may feel intimidated and back away from me.

In expressing my fears, my excuses for holding myself back, I have at the same time advice for my art-loving self and any who see themselves in me: the quest for perfection is suffocating. It masks who I really am. And who I am is always safe, IF I am true to myself.

And being afraid to be talented? Who am I NOT to be talented? Who am I NOT to shine? God has programmed Its essence into my very cells, into your very cells, to be manifested in a unique and purposeful way. The purpose is for God, through you and me, to shine Its great beauty and love over the expanse of the entire world. My talents, your talents, every one's personal talents are threads that weave the blanket of love meant to warm and sustain all creation.

So, no more excuses, I say to myself. In a troubling world filled with uncertainty, the time is now to let the impulses spill out. Just start throwing paint around. Just start gluing random things together and writing God-inspired words across those random things. Just create my thread of the blanket. Just let myself be free. Just bloom.

{Robert Rauschenberg, 1925-2008, is my favorite artist. His unconventional, avant-garde art, and the self-possessed freedom he expressed in life will be tools in my "just-let-it-out" kit.}

Hello 2009

Hello, 2009. I'm happy to see you. I've enjoyed the first blush of getting to know you today. Sunshine, quiet contemplation, raspberries and contented cats. Keep this up, and we're going to get along famously.

I hope we do. Get along famously, that is. I have balanced hopes, as opposed to high hopes, we will make the most of our time together. I've been thinking carefully today about what I would like to glean from our relationship. Let's see, there is peace, more joy, more love, more compassion, creative verve, courage, strength of heart and mind, openness, adventure, more visibility, flight, great health, more prosperity, more laughter, a better car, a better camera, (because let's be practical), did I mention more prosperity(?), mental stability, discernment, freedom from fear, receptivity, boat-loads of fun. Etc.

In thinking carefully, I wanted to come up with a singular word to define my hopes for the coming year. An edict, of sorts, for our budding relationship. A word that encompasses everything I could possibly want for myself. And for you, of course. Since we're in this together.

So, my word, my singular sensation to light the path of our seasons together is BLOOM. Isn't that simple? Isn't that perfect? In everything I face, in every opportunity that crosses my path while we are together, I want for my soul to bloom. To grow more lovely and loving.

One more thing, 2009. I want you to be kind to my friends and family and readers, and oh, heck, everyone who aspires to use the light of their soul for goodness. I want you to give them all strength and courage to meet the challenges they will face. I want you to bless them with faith in themselves. I want you to give them respite. And laughter. And uplifting communion with each other. Most of all, 2009, I want you to open their hearts to more opportunities for love.

{If you, Dear Reader, have a one-word edict for your relationship with 2009, I would love, love to hear what it is...}

That little boy in black fur, who loves my word, is Remmington.

And So It Goes

Good bye 2008. I will not soon forget you, but I admit, I am happy to see you go. You were both bitter and sweet in equal measure. You tested me, but you never bested me. Within your confines, I was encouraged to let go of many things. Yet in the void left by each release, you brought forth new options, new avenues, new souls. It was up to me to take the newness unto myself, you did not force it upon me. And Dear One, I took it. I took it all; your uncharted territory, your tears and your triumphs.

So bless you, 2008. Bless you for each and every moment you gave me. I am stronger, so much stronger, than I was 365 days ago. My instincts are sharper. My trust in myself has inflated. My understanding of what is important is more clear. The sweet moments you gave me are deeply etched in my heart.

So long. Far well. Thank you kindly. Good bye.

The View From Here 3

We Americans

We Americans are too afraid. We've been brainwashed by a tyrannical administration for 8 long years. We've been told time and again, we are not safe. We've been told the world hates us. We've lost freedoms and rational judgement. We've literally and figuratively barricaded our doors. In the process, we've lost our warm and welcoming heart.

We Americans have been sheltered by 2 vast oceans and 2 benign neighbors. We have also been sheltered by arrogance. We have largely felt superior to the rest of the world, never really finding it needful to understand anyone beyond our borders. Most Americans speak only one language, oftentimes incorrectly. Why would the population of the world's leading country need to bother with others? We are the way-showers, the benchmark, the heralded blueprint of democracy. So why bother with others? Because while we have been cowering in our sleep, the world has awoken.

If America wants to retain its leading edge, it must learn to embrace the rest of the world. We must choose to step down from the high horse we have marched forward on before we are thrown from the saddle. We must choose to actively live as if the rest of the world matters. Because it does. For many reasons. The number one reason being peace. Add to the reasons, our collective safety and our economic solvency.

You know how good it feels when some one understands you as an individual? When some one "gets" you? We call that person a friend. We bond. We enjoy and respect each other. And we stand up for each other. We become each other's protector. All because we can be our true selves with that person, and being ourselves is the greatest longing of our hearts. So apply that feeling on a larger scale. Populations of countries bothering to get to know each other, learning from each other and understanding each other. It all leads to respect and watching each other's backs. Which leads to stability and the flow of money around the globe.

We Americans need to stop being so afraid. We need to wake up to a vibrant world. We need to open our hearts and find ways to connect with human beings beyond our isolating borders, human beings who have so many of the same wants and needs as we do. In welcoming the world, we ensure our collective safety and our financial liquidity. In welcoming the world, in warming our hearts, we add more life to life.

{ This post was inspired by the book, The Post-American World, by Fareed Zakaria. An enlightening, easily understandable look at the reasons for the rise fo the rest of the world.}

For another opinion on the plight of America, go here. It makes sense to me!

Let There Be Light

To My Friends

In this season of miracles, offerings, and glad tidings; in this season of hope and of birthing new light, I pause to thank heaven and earth for my friends. It is they, in their myriad differences and great beauty, who sustain me. It is they, givers of healing and encouragement, who keep my soul buoyant. Who keep my soul laughing. Who keep my soul this side of sane.

Without my friends, I could not see myself or understand who I am. They give me clarity and courage and comfort. They offer me reflections of the Divine. They are the doorways to my soul's fulfillment. For me, they are the crown-jewel gifts of this season. And all the seasons that follow.

To my nearby friends and my far away friends and my friends of the heart whom I have never met, thank you for offering the only gift I will ever truly need...the gift of the light from your soul.

{Photo courtesy of my friend and toy collector, Don.}

365 Days of Christmas

It's not that I don't like Christmas. I do. The candle light, the cookies, the carols, the gifts with my name on them; it's all very appealing. The love and the warmth and the gathering. Makes for a wonderful life. But the monetary stress, because I never start shopping in June, and the pressure to express how much people mean to me in a condensed time frame, has left me cranky about Christmas.

The pressure to perform and provide every December drains me. I'd much rather spread the love and the presents out over the whole year. I'd rather gather with people I care for when the mood strikes and schedules allow, than the frenzied, blustery, obligatory last 2 weeks of the year. I've kept up the yearly rigor and angst because there never seemed to be a way out. Everybody blindly agrees to the frenzy and so I have gone along on the wild ride. But 6 years ago, when Jean came into my life, the frenzy began to fade.

6 years ago, I was hospitalized for drastic unpleasantness in my intestinal tract. The hope was to be home in time for the annual Christmas Eve uber-extravaganza. On the 23rd, however, all hopes were dashed. I wouldn't make it home for Christmas. How could I miss the frenzy, the food, the love, the warm-fuzzy family gathering? How could I miss Christmas? It was unthinkable.

After a slew of women came and went in the hospital bed next to mine, Jean arrived on the evening of December 24th. She was 72. Four foot eleven. She wore brown shoes. She had trouble breathing. I introduced myself and told her she was not alone. She mumbled thank you and smiled at me.

Jean was only in my life for 3 hours. She choked and stopped breathing when a young nurse came to check on her. A frenzy of activity erupted in our room, with doctors and nurses trying to revive her and 2 lawyers watching the process. I was sitting in the opposite corner, invisible in the mayhem. A do-not-resuscitate order was revealed, and she died. At 9:52pm on Christmas Eve.

While my family ate German confections around a sumptuously decorated table and sang carols in the glow of a candle-lit tree, I sat until midnight in the company of Jean. She, shrouded in the hospital-regulation wrapper for the deceased, still causing the air-compression bed to rise and fall under her weight, and me, shrouded in a new found peace.

Jean helped me realise how ridiculous is the notion of saving up my expressions of love for one season out of the year. That if I miss the season or the day, if I am not present for presents, I miss the opportunity to love. Jean helped me realise the season of Christmas is precious, but really not more precious than any other season. Because in every season and every day lies an opportunity to express how I feel about my friends and family. To celebrate the birth of goodness. To give comfort. To share joy. To offer peace. To invoke the Christ-spirit in my life, if I choose.

So yes, I like Christmas. 365 days of the year.

The View From Here 2

The View From Here

The Light Of Love

Thank you, little flame, for sending my steadfast prayers and petitions to the invisible realms. Thank you for keeping my spirits focused on truth and possibilities. Thank you for your beacon that knows no time or space, and knows the light of love is a force to be reckoned with.

Thank you, little flame, for reaching his heart across the miles. Thank you for sustaining him in difficult moments. Thank you for the stillness you have brought to me, the stillness that channels the whispers of God. Thank you for keeping the path between his heart and mine well lit. And at 2am on day 54 of our vigil, thank you, little flame, for illuminating my soul and my phone with the sunniest, most welcome, "Hi Honey, it's me" of my life.

Holiday Windows In Mayberry 2

Many Blessings

This morning at work, my friend, Lynn, found a handwritten note addressed to no one and everyone. The 3 1/2"x 4 1/2" slip of paper read:

"Many Blessings,

Please take this as a gift from the Universe. I pray that

it multiplies many times for you and all you love.

This world we live in is a wonderful place. Enjoy it.

With Love."

Shortly after finding the note, Lynn found a folded $20 bill on the floor. When I arrived, Lynn handed me the little note and said it was my turn. When my gift arrived, I was to pass on the note. Within one hour I had passed on the note.

My gift of many blessings was not monetary, nor could a value be placed on it. My gift of many blessings was priceless and powerful. It came from my friend, Sue, the Cookie Contessa who once made me cupcakes to thank me for writing this blog. An hour after I received the little note, Sue thanked me again for writing...by giving me my blog as a book. 2 volumes and one on the way at the close of the year. My blog as a 3 volume book. Printed in its entirety, photos and all, and spiral bound. Me, as a book.

I think Sue said she did this to thank me again for writing and something about how much my writing meant to her and my last post had her in tears, but I'm not sure. I was so stunned by the time and the effort and the heart it took to create this blessing for me, I was in the throws of an instant out-of-body experience. I hope and pray when I burst into tears and hugged her tight I said out loud how much I loved her. I hope I expressed my gratitude. But really, it's not possible, when something has touched me so deeply, to express fully my thanks. The effort of this blessing leaves me speechless.

When I arrived home this afternoon, I spread a blanket on the floor, made rose petal tea, put the cookies I had ordered from Sue on a plate and sat down to leaf through 2 years of words. My words, mostly, with smatterings of favorite poems. I had not realised how many words I have written. Words that could not be held back once I defied my own penchant for living in the shadows. And now the words that have poured from my heart can be held against it. For the first time.

I have wanted to write a book. Sue showed me today, I already have. She gave me the visual of my dream to have and to hold, and to give me the courage to continue. So I shall. With an even more grateful heart.

This world we live in is truly a wonderful place. The little note that was passed to me, with its wishes and prayers for Universal gifts, multiplied countless times for me. I am passing the note onto all of you now with wishes for multiplied gifts. Please print it out or write it down and carry it with you until your Universal gift arrives. When it does, and it will, please pass your note to some one else and ask that they do the same. Let's accept our many blessings and spread the love.

{For anyone in the Buffalo area in need of mouthwatering, sinfully delicious holiday cookies, please feel free to contact Sue, the Cookie Contessa at: suelcookies@hotmail.com. Her raspberry almond thumbprints are my favorite!}

Holiday Windows In Mayberry

The Gift In Adversity

There is so much opportunity when things are not going well or as expected. It is the difficult times that yield the most flavorful harvest. It is adversity that can throw wide the windows that were thought to be painted shut. In adversity, listen for the call. The call of opportunity for growth and reward and the sweet amidst the bitter. Answer the call, and be born again into a more splendid version of your world.

The call came yesterday for me. It was on behalf of my Mother who was lost in a dark pool of tears. I left work early, armed with sunshine-orange gerbera daisies, and showed up at her side. My job in her journey through cancer is to keep her spirits lifted and her mind focused squarely on the positive. I did not ask why she had been crying. I know why. I did not ask her to tell me of her fears. I simply put orange sunshine in every room and suggested we finish decorating her beloved Christmas tree. We put on German carols and hung silver pine cones. We discerned which branches would hold the white candles to best light the tree in a magical glow. I made 2 cups of tea and set up the manger scene. I unwrapped the Santa Claus collection. We talked quietly about going to Germany again.

While hanging her grandmother's glass bell on the tree, my mother said simply, "I feel so much better now that you're here". And there it was. My gift in adversity. The awareness I was making a difference and the sweet connection of hearts in a seemingly bitter time.

I tell you, do not back away from difficult times. Meet them with courage and open hands and a soft heart. We all need each other. And we have all been afraid to ask for the love and the help. Be willing when opportunity calls. Follow your instincts and act. Offer your true self. Your true self. I promise you, your world will be changed by the sweet gifts in adversity.

Pull Back

Oftentimes, when our energy is directed outward on behalf of others or our personal commitments, and sustained at high levels, it becomes necessary to pull back. It becomes necessary to refuel. To revive. To honor. Ourselves. Even for a day. Or bits and pieces of successive days. Oftentimes, if we don't choose to pull back, we will be pulled down.

You who can't say no, I am giving you permission to say no. You who rush from one self-imposed obligation to another, stop. Go to bed early. Wake up late. You who think the world should be spotless, leave the dirty dishes in the sink. Read a book. Drink tea. Let it be. You who must do it all, for pity's sake, ask for help. Asking does not mean you have failed. You who cannot let go of control, resign as general manager of the Universe. You have not received enough hugs. You have not given enough hugs.

We, you and me, need a break. We need cream in our soup. We need cupcakes with sprinkles. We need fleece. We need time to do nothing. And we are the only ones who can give ourselves permission to stop, let go and say no. It is our grown-up responsibility to ourselves to occasionally play hooky. To honor ourselves and not put the madness before sanity. To pull back before we are pulled down. To choose to put ourselves first.

The Audible Sigh

Today is a day for deep, releasing sighs. The kind that make your shoulders finally relax and beg you to spend time horizontal, under blankets, with books. This is a good day. Although, I realize, all days are good. But today, while the new moon sliver meets the shining rays of Jupiter and Venus in the western twilight sky, love is working its quiet magic.

My Mom is healing well from her cancer surgery and building strength for the forthcoming chemical invasion. My newest cat, Buddha, has let me in on his well kept secret. He's a lover boy. He likes nothing more than to have his face rubbed. And give my heart wings, my Love is not missing anymore. He is not home, but as of today, I have definitive word he is alive and well and doing what has been asked of him.

So, my lit candle in the window, the prayers, the mala beads, the instincts, the hopes, the mind-chatter held at bay, the kindness of others, the cupcakes, the letters, the patience, the trust, all have led me to this day. The day when a sigh of relief could shudder up from my lungs and pull me down to the sofa, under blankets, with books. The day when all my efforts are confirmed as being worthwhile. The day that gives me strength to give thanks, keep calm and carry on.