Little Thoughts


wpid-0610140800.jpg

When thoughts start to clutter my mind now, especially ones that take me away from the present, this is my new mantra:

I am here now; I am alive; I am healthy; I am grateful.

wpid-1008131825c.jpg

“Extended bliss is boredom of the existential kind.” from the book NutShell  By Ian McEwan.

Unintended Consequence


wpid-20141115_134252.jpg

The law of unintended consequences….

I heard this term used today and it was new to me. It intrigued me. In looking it up, I found that the context that it is often in reference to the human effect on the environment (usually negative). But I wondered about it within my own life. Surely this law has played a role somewhere….

In thinking about it, initially I believed it was my haphazard approach to living that would bring unintended consequences to my life. So many of my previous decisions seemed terribly unplanned; my huge degree of boredom would motivate me into life altering steps with utter abandon. So then, of course, there would always be unintended consequences to these choices. Ones that propelled me forward down a path that allowed no turning back.

Sometimes, others choices set me down these unintended paths–the consequences to be paid then were hefty and to be dragged with me forever. But they defined me too and made me the person I am. Good? Bad? At moments, either/both… The weight of these, had they been changed, could have reset the entire course of my journey. Had they understood the consequences completely, where would I be now? Different consequences I suppose.

But really, even with a direct approach to life, I still face things unintended. Don’t we all? Think about it: what may be the unintended consequence of each action we take? It’s all ripple effect. It can be huge. Or maybe just something simple. The point is that nothing we do is without meaning. We bounce off of something else.

Maybe I am simplifying this concept.

But really, when it comes down to it: many things we do come with great responsibilities.

So now that this is in my head, I will try to be more aware of its presence: in my life and in the greater world. By its very meaning, I won’t be able to change anything I guess, as the outcome will be unintended. But maybe, if on the front end I think more carefully, the consequences can be good.

wpid-20141012_175222.jpg

Poem: Seek Not


Just gotta keep on walkin

till the paths divergent go

or a single one does open up

and your feet are raw and muddy

keep on pushin

however slow

wpid-20141011_162506.jpg

 

Just gotta keep on walkin

though the road may be tough

you may meet many strangers

who you never even know

some greet you friendly

but some are mighty rough

wp-1456355152667.jpg

Just gotta keep on walkin

and push the branches back

they’ll tear your legs and

rip your arms

the blood may drip bright red

and it will leave a track

wpid-0529140542a.jpg

Just gotta keep on walkin

following  the trail

wherever it may lead

you may not know

but it’s your path

seek not the Holy Grail

wpid-0810132016a.jpg

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Buried Treasure


There are some folks that search for buried treasure. Some of that treasure may be from sunken ships from long ago that legend tell tales of gold and jewels that went down with these vessels. Divers search and may come up with some beauties, or may find only fish and wood in the depths of ocean, or maybe nothing at all. But it might be the journey alone that draws these seekers, the hope of treasure and wealth and a visit into the past.

I’ve read of current day treasure hunts: wealthy men hiding trunks of money and producing hints with maps given in books that hungry hunters must purchase in hopes of finding the loot. Is it bunk and a lucky gent making his own treasure on unsuspecting innocents, or is there really something hidden waiting for some brilliant detective who can unlock the key?

wpid-0627140540b.jpg

For me the buried treasure is of a different kind. It’s not material. In fact, I’ve been making efforts to rid myself of material goods, including ones of “value”. What is value anyway but what it means to someone. True, gold and diamonds have value if one tried to sell them in our market, but even these go up and down in price and they can sometimes cost so much they become: invaluable. Museums must hold onto pieces that are such treasures as to become priceless.

No, things are no longer what I am pursuing, but still my treasures have been buried. I’ve felt rather like some great explorer that has gone on a long expedition to some unheard of place to find my gems. The natives were not always hospitable and the climate often harsh. The tools I brought with me I found, at times, were primitive and didn’t quite do the trick as I tried to dig and dig to find this deeply hidden trunk of goods.

The maps I had were often handed to me by people who had no idea where I needed to be or what I was looking for; they were crude and often in a language I did not understand. So I tossed them aside and plunged on, sometimes through jungle brush, other years in desert heat sucking the water out of my pores. But I knew if I kept going, eventually I would find the goods.

There were years that I walked in circles. And sometimes I would just lay down and cry. Sometimes I had the strength of a tiger and the eyesight of an eagle, feeling like I was closer and closer. But then the treasure would slip away and I would have to start again.

wpid-20140822_130332.jpg

I’ve learned over the years now, that the maps I needed were with me written in an invisible ink only I could read. They were my maps to find my treasures. When I looked really closely, I noticed that the path lead me through all those places I had gone: the jungles and deserts and around and around–it’s where the trail led, I just hadn’t seen it before now. None of it was by accident.

And all the people I met along the way, they were in the Legend of the map, part of landscape I was meant to wander on path to the treasure. In fact, when I squinted just right, I saw that I actually had found treasure in each of these villages! There were markings showing that’s where some of the jewels were: the people, even the ones I thought were hostile had given me something I didn’t know, a tiny gem of knowledge.

But after walking, searching and following this map–and scrutinizing it carefully, I saw something that brought wonder to me. It appeared I was coming very close to the buried treasure that I had been chasing for so long. Maybe I’m only steps away now it seemed. The map showed it was at the center of everything: bright and brilliant, overflowing with energy.

I’m almost there now. The treasure. My treasure, buried–inside of me.

wpid-0520142142a.jpg

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Music Of The Universe


Lately, in keeping with all the inner work I’ve been doing and with the great changes coming out of the last few years of my life, it has naturally moved me back to the more spiritual side of myself. In my past, the spiritual plane was almost equal to the plane in which I lived on a daily ‘normal’ basis. This meant I often felt very in tune with so much more around me and on a much deeper level: people, animals, the natural landscape and of course: the mystical.

Then, the course of my life got in the way, and this beautiful and magical part of my life slipped away  without me really noticing. The spiritual habits that I had practiced left me; all the ‘unexplained coincidences’ that would so often pop up joyfully in my life seemed to disappear and life just became a dull and routine existence.

Like so many of us, the tether to the unknown–to that thing beyond us–(call it what you may), isn’t always there unless you are really looking or open to it. Many just don’t believe, being simply too rooted in reality.

But we all have our own scopes of what reality may be. And I know that my reality had encompassed many things which could not be explained by scientific or simple explanations. You just had to be there to understand. To have faith in the powers and energies that flow. And I did.

So the time has gently begun to seem right, bit by bit, to reemerge within my spiritual self. To put back on my garland crown and flowing robes and step back into the circle once again. And I feel my power returning like an old friend. It was just waiting for my call.

My dreams have been full of visions, visitations and clarity. I use a dream book that I have to help interpret them and I’ve been writing them down in my journal, along with other long and inspired thoughts about my journey.

My interactions with people feel more purposeful and I am often drawn into deep conversations on a sidewalk with neighbors. Seeing people now brings me warmth rather than anxiety and I’m happy to share these moments and feel they are all meaningful.

Most things now feel part of my plan, that I am drawing all things to me. Some days I pick a tarot card to see what it might say, and often it will reflect what I have been feeling during my meditation. That nothing is random: I am creating this reality around me.

It has a been a very long walk to this place of inner peace; to be able to shrug off the demon within each time it threatens to claw its way to the surface. And now that I am dancing on my spiritual path once again, my peace is sweeter: for finally  I can hear the music of the Universe with my whole soul.

Benches


wpid-IMG_20130319_084503.jpg

As she sat quietly on the bench, she recalled so many times of reflection. Times of stopping, of sitting still to breathe and think of her life. It wasn’t always easy to create these moments, to stop the moving train that was her life, long enough, to simply see what was around her.

wpid-0922131505a.jpg

These benches were everywhere. Even if people were around, they could cradle her; let her thoughts roll through her mind, easing the turbulence with the help of the surrounding landscape. They were guardians, givers and saviors.

picnic table 2

Sometimes she would be present, sometimes drift off to another place.  Somehow they were conduits of time travel: as though a space had opened up and she slipped into it and could go forward or back, depending on her mood. Because of this, she walked in places long forgotten, places of lost love or deep pain. The remembering, though, somehow put it in an ethereal plane, so the visitation became moments of healing.

wpid-20150102_080104.jpg

Some places to sit weren’t really benches at all, but still created for her the right second to watch a sunrise. Just the act of seeing one could erase months of chaos in her soul.

She remembers now these sacred vessels and can recall far into childhood how many she has visited. From cities to the middle of nowhere, the times she took to just stop and sit–to contemplate, meditate and be quiet.

And now she wonders: where are all the benches yet to come?

snow 5

Out Of The Fog


20150311_08010720150311_080112

So I’m ready to come out of the cold and fog into the sun and light. Today I announced to my chief at the fire station that I will be giving my notice as soon as I can find a buyer for my home. It was an amazing relief!

Now of course there are miles to go before this can happen, like fixing the house, the snow melting so someone can even get in to fix the house and then hopefully finding a buyer. But still–it was such a sweet feeling.

I wasn’t planning on saying anything until the end–until the contract was signed. But today, something just told me to do it. And I’m glad I did. Many of my friends already knew and there was a chance he would find out anyway. But more importantly, just because I felt that the place had let me down, was not a reason to do the wrong thing.

There are many reasons I’m leaving the job and it’s sad for me. I’ve worked hard to carve out a reputation in the community and I’ve tried hard to do a good job. Sadly though, it’s just not a place I’ve ever fit in. Story of my life! I’m not a follower and one is better off being a follower there. My kindergarten report card said: She is a born leader. Oh my. It also said if the kids don’t play the way she wants, she doesn’t let them play. I’ve worked on that one most my life….

Anyway, whatever the reasons are moot now because I’m moving on for many reasons. The most important one is that I’m moving south to be near my Mother. This is a relationship that needs more mending. It’s been 40 years since we’ve lived close by and it’s time to be near again. We left each other on odd terms many, many years ago and while we’ve stayed in touch (and not on bad terms)–it’s time to become a family again. We’re both very excited.

And I’m getting older and don’t like the weather in the north anymore. Some sunshine will do me good! This climate change is true, I don’t care what anybody says–the winters are more brutal.  Maybe a hurricane will blow me away, but at least it will be sunny in between.

So, it’s time to start again. Create a new chapter and new life. I’ve been hedging towards this for years now and never had the guts. But finally all the planets aligned. And, well, it was simply time.

I came to where I live now 20 years ago with a husband and three daughters and high hopes. I’m leaving now divorced and my kids grown and doing their own things. The daughter that lives with me now is sending me off with blessings. She is thrilled to be living in her own apartment (she was the one thing that kept me here for so long).

With those blessings and great sadness to leave friends behind, I face ahead with great joy and hope for new and hopefully this time, successful steps of my life!

20150311_080102

Putting The Brakes On


As the holiday cards roll in, and the enclosed letters, it reminds me more and more how much I have changed and how different I am from so many people. Contemplating my life during my meditation today, I couldn’t help agree that youth is indeed wasted on the young. It’s only now that I seem to have the ability to remotely peer into the depth of my soul and have a glimmer of what I might want from this life.

In my younger years, I blasted through life and its critical junctures, like one of those crazy Chinese super sonic trains that travel at lightning speeds. I imagine the commuters that sit within them who might dare to look out, only seeing a blur of scenery fly by at any given moment: flashes of color with no discernible lines separating objects one from another.

Such is my past it seems. A blur of memories and decisions. Ones made without much thought to slow the train down to decide which track might be best to travel upon and certainly not like the trains of old chugging along slowly enough to get one’s bearings.

Husbands came and went. Jobs and more moves, enough to make one dizzy. Always this underlying sense of discontent, that just around the next bend might lie the answer to joy or inner peace.

My journey has been up and down following a path to the highest mountaintops and then into the lowest valleys of despair as I rode this churning rail car that never slowed down.

And now, as I’m finally coming closer to the final stages of my journey, and wisdom has come in bits and pieces…I finally see that I am really the conductor after all. I’m not sure if those new fangled trains have a caboose, but they must be steered somehow, by someone none-the-less. So the time has come to put the brakes on and slow life down.

I’ve learned surprising and valuable things about myself; things I inherently knew, but maybe were just confirmed. A personality test confirmed that I am in the 1% (INFJ) of the population. The literature describing this personality type was so affirming of many things I knew about myself but could never put my figure on. (If only I could send it to all my ex’s!).

I’m learning that being a racing freight train is not healthy or good, and I ended up making poor decisions my whole life because of it. But I also understand better now why I did it. And I forgive myself.

The most important thing is to figure out how to live the next years better. How to stand at a cross-road and make the right choice? How to decide when it’s right to leave something or someone? When it’s right to start something new? And simply not to be rash when doing anything.

While it’s true I will never be your typical person, I still have a lot more growing to do and even a longer road to joy. Someday that old train will pull into some station and I will simply step off, walk towards the horizon and never look back.

Poem: The Road


I am me

And the road here

Has been paved

With ankle twisting cobblestones

It has wound around many bends

And shot off in directions

That I didn’t mean to take

I’ve met strangers along the way

And some I have embraced

Many proved to be false

But some are with me still

The me then

Tried to please hungrily

And I lost myself on the path

The me now

Knows only my inner desires

And crashes my way through

The underbrush into the light!

But it has all been my journey

Down this long road

And without every step

Every encounter

Every diversion

Every bridge I crossed

I would not be the me

I am now