Date Night

At long last, I have a date. With a hero. With a heart of gold. With a man who makes a difference in this world. Me and Greg Mortenson. Tonight. I'm weak in the knees...

I'll try to ignore the 6,000 other people in the room.

i am there

with tea and raspberries i sit on the floor, cross-legged, and pry the lid off the small plastic tote. suddenly she is there and i am there and we are eating confections at her kitchen table, talking of her younger days on the cusp of the german north sea. i lean into the tote filled with tokens of the second half of her life, the life that i knew and was part of. it is ripe and resplendent with smells of her home. i finger the tea strainer, the apron, the worn wooden spoons, the cocktail records from berlin. i snap the lid down on the tote to preserve the sanctuary of scent. a very small puddle of tears form in my eyes.

one item from the tote remains in my lap. it is a message disguised as a book. it is a picture book of homer, alaska, given as a gift from her best friend's son. 22 years ago, i traveled to parts of alaska and fell under the spell of homer. the pull and the ache to live there, to create a life there for reasons i could not explain haunted me for 10 years after my visit. but what kept me from making the leap was all the time to be spent and all the memories to be had with her, with my oma. i could not, would not miss them. she is, was the only grandmother i knew.

so, here, on the floor with raspberries, i leaf through the book and an imprint of the long-past haunting rises. go, she says. be free. we have pockets and bushels and armloads of memories and now, let us both be free. do not hold back anymore. find your heart's spell and go, no matter how far or near. where ever you are, she says, i am there.

suddenly clear

today, i reacquaint myself with angels.

today, i lift my heart to new possibilities.

i aim my thoughts towards goodness and peace.

i sing songs meant only for me.

i daydream in vivid color.

i speak gratitude.

i step lightly over the bridge.

 

my soul is ready to be worn.

the meaning of home is suddenly clear.

just do it

this in my "inbox" today~

The path to enlightenment is not a path at all,

it's actually a metaphor for the time it takes

for you to allow yourself to

be happy with who you already are,

where you're already at,

and what you already have - 

no matter what.

Just do it, 

    The Universe

 

Let Me Celebrate Her

like the moon,

come out from behind the clouds.

shine!

the buddha

for you, debi, with love for the beauty of your soft turquoise soul and the magical stream of words that pour from your heart. my life is richer because you came out from behind the clouds and let your essence shine over the world. i celebrate you and your treasured painting today with a tiny white cake and a bird. you matter to me. you bless me. you honor me with understanding. muchas gracias, amiga, for your love and company along life's less traveled road.

xo, graciel

to see who else is mad for debi, please visit amy and her brilliant celebration idea.

2 lessons

2 lessons to be learned~

*caring for each other is

a privilege and 

deserving of top priority.

*knowing when to

keep our mouths shut.

{may we all be quick studies}

autumn views~subtle and present

without her in this world

intellectually, i know she's gone, this woman who filled my life with roses and sugar,  with adventure and warmth. but my heart has not heard the news, doesn't want to hear that news and so remains raw, bitingly raw, with unshed tears.

as she had advised in life~ her secret to aging gracefully and well, "keep moving"~ i stay in motion. amid the laundry and groceries, i stop at her grave to tidy the roses and ribbon-wishes of her family and  i cover the fresh dirt with petals. i move on to her now-former home, newly sold, yet still in transition, to gather a few last things i can't bear to be donated. i wander room to room, hoping the familiar smells of her home will bring me, finally, to tears.

they don't.

so, i keep moving.

of course, i'm lucky. of course, i'm grateful. a grandmother until one's mid-40's is rare. and this grandmother was a force to be reckoned with. but there is emptiness, as all death brings. there is not knowing what to do next, as all death brings. there is a pressing evaluation of one's own life, as all death brings.

i will keep moving until the moment, the possibly public and likely inconvenient moment, when my heart suddenly knows she is gone. beyond the tears, the river of tears, i hope to know what to do next without her in this world.

feathers fresh and wet

in the end she was but a bird, struggling, pleading with her eyes to be set free. her vivacious and sometimes difficult life, her legendary creations in food and fiber, her stubbornness and her big hearted ways, were done. as can happen in the closing moments of a long life, the person is almost unrecognizable. the great animating force of the soul deflates in preparation for new-born flight.

i held her hands. she squeezed mine back. i offered rapid fire kisses to her forehead, the same as i would for a child. i looked her long and steady in the eye. i spoke of love. she heard me.

more of her family came. tears flowed, soft songs were sung, in her native tongue they spoke of home. on that buoyant wave she let the struggle go. she slipped out of the room, her feathers fresh and wet, full life behind and full life ahead.



what a privilege, dearest oma, to be one of your girls. so long and so deep i've loved you.

luise christine~ july 1919 to october 2010.

autumn views~can't get enough

one day, a drive to the swamps to hear the stop-over geese.

the next day, a walk in the woods with

my lifetime friend (26 years and counting), lisa.

this autumn, i can't get enough.

autumn views~winner, winner

 

it takes one to know one~ the leaver of secret surprises, the bestower of small gifts meant to uplift. i've sprinkled some around in my time. and so i recognized a crumpled, slightly damp fold of paper wedged in a crevice of a tree.

it was a thrill to unfold the paper and find a hand-colored cartoon holding a bag of money...for me. and then, i spied the next folded wedge and found an offering of flowers and butterflies. on the back of each secret work of art was written, "winner, winner, chicken dinner".

truly, i felt like a winner having discovered those little gifts. i decided not to keep them but instead, put them back in the crevices for the next lucky soul who looks for things half hidden.

thank you, sponge bob. my beliefs are constantly reaffirmed~that there is goodness and joy and warmth being bestowed in all directions. it is ours to freely notice and accept. it is ours to pass on. and too, messages, coded in crayon or not, are finding their way into our hearts and minds, leading us gently and giving us courage to share our best selves with the world.

autumn views~the sitting tree

i have known for many years that trees, mature trees, are healers. i seek them out when need calls, whether physical, mental or emotional. leaning against them, i am soothed. almost on contact. but the sitting tree with its perfect root seat, its footrest, and  my back at a comforting angle against the lower trunk offers healing of a level i have never found before. it is a magical embrace that bestows peace at a soul-deep level. it is guardian and mother all in one. the highest order of maple; inconspicuous, yet willing.

the sitting tree wanted me to tell you, it has counterparts all over the world. it wanted me to tell you to seek them out when you have needs not easily soothed. they are waiting, patiently, by creek beds and river beds to listen, to heal, to offer you the balance of heaven and earth within.

autumn views~ the glory of leaves

 

autumn views~ slide show

 

Sign Day: needs expressed

thank you, christine!

"life is just overwhelming at times,

and we are all standing on a corner

with a sign in our hands needing something".

debi smith kaich jones 

and so. my signs.

at least, the ones i could show you.

now, yours.

tell me true.

leave a link in the comments to your pictures.

or just use the comment space to type out

watcha be needing right now.

then visit debi for more.

10-10-10

our annual "thankschristmas" at the lake. 

a real tree, stockings hung from the mantle,

5 pies and cake for dessert

and autumn leaves clinging to the trees.

this is my 10-10-10.

standing outside, looking in.

(straight out of the camera.)

for more views on the happenings of October 10th, click here.

the realization

 

when the realization comes, may it be big and bold.

may it shatter your earth and drench you in light.

may you feel what it is to wear your soul.

express your needs~ sign day 10-12-10

a little spark has ignited.

a match was struck with this post by debi and one line flew off the screen, begging to be spoken aloud... "life is just overwhelming at times, and we are all standing on a corner with a sign in our hands needing something".

my god, how true.

and so, what is the sign in your hands? what. do. you. need?

tell me.

from your gut and your soul.

if you have a blog, tell me in a post on tuesday, october 12th. write your sign and photograph it. write many signs if you have many needs. listen deeply to yourself. get creative. it does not have to be pretty.

express. your. truth.

on the 12th, leave a comment with your link so we can see what you need. leave a comment and link on debi's blog, as well. she and me are starting a sign revolution. obviously, we have needs.

are you in?


{what? you have no blog, but still have needs? tell me what your sign would say in the october 12th comments or post your sign on facebook and let us know!)

there comes the forgiveness

 

yes.

i understand now.

on the long road to inner revolution,
after various levels of hell have been peered in to,
some visited for scorching levels of time,
after the cooling wonderment of joy has been remembered,
there comes the forgiveness.

self to self.
whispered.
light, yet deep.

patience comes.
nourishment comes.
the weight of the world slips off.

it will all be forgotten.
soon.
too soon.

but, having come to this point on the road,
this point of intimate self-whispers,
when i am lost and scorched
i will find my way back.

and i will forgive again.

this is what i am wondering

this is what i am wondering~ are the people who excel at lasting happiness, who overcome setbacks, who sustain their interests in worthwhile things, who can feed themselves well, who set and keep healthy boundaries, who succeed in and have patience in relationships, are they the ones among us who have forgiven themselves?