The Vision Board Tale

     Have you made a vision board? It's where you cut out pictures of things you like from magazines such as a big house, new car or maybe a handsome mate and you glue it all on a piece of poster board. Some people add words for affirmations and then you put it someplace in your house, forget about it and things you desire will start to take shape into your life. Well, that's what I did on Saturday with a group of friends and a potluck. At first I didn't want to go, I've made them before, I teach workshops on how to make them and it just didn't interest me but I missed this group of people so I went.

     Everyone went around the room to give general thoughts of what they wanted in their lives but when it came to my turn, I told about wanting a stronger future generation. My dirty blue Malibu parked in the street ran fine, my house is cozy, the yard is hand planted, moving or buying new things would be a pain. I told how important it was for me to clean up my attitude and be a way shower for the grand kids. You see, I've read where our DNA can be changed by our thoughts (you tube Bruce Lipton) and how a mother daughter team teach Bible classes world wide because of their great grandma. Apparently, the great grandma took a huge interest in reading the book when she was sixteen years old, then out of the blue, her daughter took on the habit at the same age and her daughter as well until it also hit the fourth generation.

       I had done an experiment to only water my plants on Monday. When I went to my son's apartment, I noticed the plant I had given him was unusually large and lush to my surprise. He told me he had to cut it back three times and he only waters his plants on Monday's. Yes, DNA can change I thought.
     We had a short meditation to get into our space. I'm envisioning strong future children and a blue chord reaching to the sky with Stevie Wonder singing 'there's a ribbon in the sky' when out of the blue, my grandson texts me a short "hi". Connection, it was working and I hadn't even glued one thing on my paper!

     Ever been in that blissed out state but there's a nag in your gut that some thing's brewing? Could have been the excited text from my grandson that he was having a sleep over with two friends and dad said it was ok! Yes, mom was working the night shift again. On a Saturday night, after dad had worked all week?
     To make a long story short, it wasn't such a good idea after all and Sunday was all messed up with a house full of grumps who were all mad at each other. I decided to pick the grand kids up after school on Monday to give dad a break and Kaitlyn wasn't going to forgive that 'meanie' dad, ever! Mom's going to nursing school and wouldn't be home until after 5.

     The school bell rings at 3:10 but the kindergartners get out five minutes earlier. Be there on time! Not today kids, grandma had a detour going to the school because of the water main break and the parking lot near the swimming pool where she parks wasn't plowed which made the lady in front of the line stuck in a snow drift and grandma couldn't park. She ran up the hill, dodging snow mounds and speed running children who thought she was a bowling pin until she reached the top of the hill to see her love bugs! 

     "Grandma! We're saved! We're saved!" Dylan shouted as he fell face forward into the snow. Of course Kaitlyn did the same. They would need a change of clothes. "Where were you!" Kaitlyn cried. "We almost died so we were going to walk home!" 
  
     "It's ok Kaitlyn, let's go home and get some dry clothes and then we'll go to my house." 
     "Dad! Dad!", she sang. "I'm staying home with you! I love you so so so much." she said.

     The plan stayed the same for Dylan, he came home with me and Kaitlyn made up with meanie dad. Isn't it funny how plans go awry but it's in our best interest when we remain calm and let the Universe do its work?

     End of story....the last text of the day... "Mom, thanks for watching Dylan. Kaitlyn says to tell you that...YOU'RE FIRED!" 
  "It's ok, I'll see her early the next time."
   "Mom, thanks for taking a hit for the team."

Do vision boards work? Yes, with detours and twists. Might as well make one, they're fun.

Ghostly Reflections / Remembering Ben

     Now that the cold long day is finally winding down and the computer clock says 11:11 pm, the time of angels and wish making, I can smile and relax into a decoding process where my thoughts have gone in reverse to the beginning of this day. The day that started with a frown and fourteen inches of snow on top of ice with dread of grocery shopping in weather that's fit for a polar bear. This day was important, I just didn't realize it until tonight and all the coincidences fall like dominoes. I am sorry I forgot it was your birthday but the unseen world tried to remind me.
     It drew my attention to the kitchen light over the table this morning. The sun hitting the glass just right made the neighbor's snow covered roof look like mountains in California and the blue was so blue with a hot sky. The Christmas poinsettia plant with its red leaves that was sitting on the table improved the make believe room and I pretended it was another small world inside of my world, trapped in the reflection. How would I paint that for a neat book? I felt the tug from Spirit at that moment whispering, reflection but I rushed to get dressed with the Beatle's song playing in my head, "I am you and you are me and we are all together."
     Maybe it was the fast speed of the muddy cars on the road or the five foot tall snow mounds at all the intersections that kept my mind away from you. Once again, Spirit tried to remind me of this special date because it wouldn't stick in my head when I wrote checks at two different stores. (yes, I still write checks)
     "What's the date today?" I asked the olive skinned woman at the India Emporium market.
     "February 6th", she replied. " "Be safe outside, there are so many things to pay attention to now," she added.
     February sixth, February sixth, I found myself silently repeating as I drove towards home the short cut way near the yellow apartments with the tennis court across the street. You started to enter my thoughts about this time but it was a tiny pinhole opening. It was a good thing I didn't run over the man in the street walking his dog on a leash who was trying to navigate over frozen bumps with his dog and he shook when he walked with his half smoked cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth.
     He stopped and froze his gait to turn to face me and when I passed him in the car, I looked in the rear view mirror to see that he had turned around to walk in the direction that I was driving.
     "Ben! He looks like Ben," I said to my daughter.
     "He looked at you funny mom," she said.
     "Oh my God! Today is Ben's birthday! I can't believe I forgot, I always light a candle on his birthday."
     "What a sign that is, I can't believe I didn't see one this morning. If I'm not more observant, God's going to start throwing signs at me," I laughed.

     The old ladies say be careful what you wish for and that couldn't have been truer to what we saw next. Someone had run into the stop sign during the night and knocked it down so we pulled over the side of the road and took a picture. Some people may not believe me, some do, all I know is Ben's birthday is today and Spirit was trying to get my attention. He would have been 37 years old but his life was cut short by murder. It's a pain that I bury and don't talk about to people because it holds the weight of guilt. Guilt for not having the resources to find him good places to live when my basement had the space. Guilt for complaining of the cold when I knew he was sleeping outside in the cold.

          Good night half moon, good night busy day. Thank you for the signs, thank you for the reflections and thank you for the last coincidence where I checked facebook because it beeped a noise that said someone messaged me but instead I find a quote that read..."If you want to see God, then open your eyes."
  Happy Birthday my dear friend Ben, I am you and you are me and we are all together.
   

Community

A life without friends is like climbing a ladder without something to lean on. The balancing act can only last so long.

Winter's Night

the overweight stranger in a woman's body

has burned her hand on water too hot to drink

but it's company for her lonesome soul

on a winter night with blankets on the window

and sheets in the doorways

dead are her summer plants in overcrowded pots

on tables where cat hair is thick

and brittle vines hang like ribbons

her cry for help goes to voice mail

and i feel her silent screams alone in my fortress

dreaming of nothing and everything

double socked and wrapped in wool

hush my friend, don't cry

there is a kingdom in the ice

waiting for its crack, waiting for us

to be still, to be quiet without an answer

 the castle walls say it's cold for reason

forget the rhythm, go within, let her out!

the little girl who smiles at bugs and throws

nickles in the street man's can because she likes the sound

drawbridge lowered, silence comes

her breath now fully visible, it cloaks the room

yes, there is kingdom in the ice

i will return your call when sunrise comes
sleep, sweet dreams my friend. 

Happy Anniversary

     An eighteen year old young whooper snapper from Kansas with a wild horse attitude and his best buddy Rex, could drive to Mexico in a beater car in 1955 not knowing a lick of Spanish. In those days, all you had to do was pull into a filling station and say, "filler up!" People knew what that meant and the ones who didn't, we waved a five dollar bill.

     "You must have loved her," I'd ask.
     "Well sure I did." he would say with the day's newspaper partially covering his softly shaven face. I liked sitting next to him on the couch, the way he smelled, always of Old Spice and a hint of cigarette smoke.

          The two friends drove for two days to get to Mexico where Susana lived with her parents. They didn't let anyone know they were leaving just because they didn't plan it out. Della Hopkins, his mom was a single mother of seven who worried sick not knowing if she'd see him again, her youngest son. I used to lay in bed staring at the green walls and wonder if she woke from a deep sleep the night they hit the donkey on the highway where the mountain curves in a dangerous circle right before you see the town of Parral's lights.

     "He came without a warning and I barely had time to put on lipstick!" my mother added.
     "You should have seen your grandpa Diaz. He put on his smoking jacket and combed his hair straight back wanting to make an impression."( Do people actually own velvet smoking jackets, I always thought that was a Saturday Night Live joke.)

     The sparks that flew that night at the football game in Paola, Kansas where they met made my mother start to like the foreign country where she was forced to study. It had been her mother's dream to study in America and play the piano but since she caught typhoid fever, her dream was pushed onto my mother.

     "I left my country for that man! My sisters never visit me and one of them said I was the one who left them so it was my obligation to visit," she would recall at times looking into the distance. "Love is a state of mind," and then she would call him for dinner. Always confusing was that statement, making me choose sitting on his side of the table.

Your grandmother planned the entire wedding, even the dress. I felt like it was her wedding but we didn't care, Your dad wanted to elope and I almost took him up on his offer. Don't you ever tell him, she would laugh. He had one good suit but he wore brown shoes and my sisters thought it was the worst thing he could have done. I told my mom if she said one word about the shoes, I wouldn't speak to any of them.

    January 7, 1955 they married with wealthy friends and gifts of crystal and a gold bracelet made of coins that was sold years later at a pawn shop so they could make another yearly trip to Mexico. I had dreamed of wearing that bracelet but Grandma Della said it would bring too much attention to me and that wasn't good for others to be jealous of their kinfolk. 

     Fifty eight years lasted longer than the six month prediction by my French grandmother who said Americans were nothing but trouble, he couldn't speak Spanish, a dangerous man.. Tonight is also the anniversary of my first date with my now husband of thirty six years and it's the last chuckle of my day because dad predicted six months for us. What is love and how long does it last? My parents couldn't speak each other's language but learned in time. There are days when I think my husband speaks another language and days when he speaks mine. Happy anniversary to all those celebrating! I wish you courage, happiness and a bit of Rosetta Stone.

     Love is a canvas furnished by nature and embroidered by imagination.

Voltaire

Learning Tolerance...Again and Again and Again...

     She can down a Corona with the best of the men, juggle life like it's a piece of cake,sometimes working doubles at exclusive Biaggi's where all the nutty wealthy ladies who don't like tipping request her table. Forget the bus, she's the bus and her kids know she has their backs. Yes, she's a double fisted girl with Latin blood she got from her mom and a touch of backwoods Arkansas she got from her daddy, big hearted Rose is what we call her. I know her well, she's the baby I potty trained and taught to ride a bike, fourth born child of my parents and I am the big sister that laughs loudest when she calls at midnight. We speak with British accents, talk about our art and she's first to hang up but not before she tells me how my work should be in museums, prefixed with fn's.

     Rose drove eleven hours in the snow and ice with her husband and two children this Christmas with the expectation that I would greet her when they pulled into our parents house along with a marching band, whistles and Christmas penguins wearing party like it's 1999 hats, but I wasn't there. I didn't call. No hug for my sweet sister Rose. Instead, I was thanking my lucky stars that the two cars who pulled into my lane on the highway didn't kill me or my 2 grandchildren and 2 daughters. Then it was mall time, oh my gawd, the mall is hell on December 23rd and so is the grocery store! All shopping, miraculously accomplished in one night with the expectation that my love would be noticed.

     For thirty five years, my mother's house has been the gathering spot on Christmas Eve, this year to 25 which meant 4:00 was changed to 6:00 pm to allow for extra cooking time and Rose was the bearer of  this news via the phone. Oh I could tell she wasn't happy and I said we were looking forward to seeing her but she answered, "don't worry, we'll be gone and home before too long."

    "What did you say?" I shouted. "I have to call others," she said. Click, end of conversation...and that was the beginning of the tolerance pop quiz. We have a banner that hangs in the living room that I bought when the monks came to town, it's all about tolerance. Since I learned this lesson.. ;) ...it came off the wall in a hurry, I would give it to Rose! Yea, she needed it now and it looked pretty good almost new, it was going to be her Christmas present and I would open that jar of Calamata olives that were for her, eat as many as I wanted. "No! Don't give that away mom, we love that," gasped my daughter. "She needs the lesson, not me," I said while avoiding the five phone calls all from Rose wanting to apologize.

     "Hurry! Time is wasting, you need to wrap it fast." is what I heard in my head. Now I know guides, angels, whatever is good wouldn't help out on a sneaky thing but I hurried. It was wrapped with the inside of the brown paper that you get from the Christmas paper wrap, stiff enough to roll it into a scroll. I cut the ends like fringe and put tissue paper in the ends. Ribbons! It needed ribbon but the quickest thing handy was a stream of feathers that I had previously glued together on a piece of paper. All the time, I kept hearing a strange nagging voice over my shoulders saying to hurry, hurry! Not the doorbell, on Christmas Eve, really?

     My husband's big black friend who we've known since he was twelve, all 6 foot 4 of him on a painfully cold night with a runny nose and his box of candy bars. He comes over when you can fry eggs on the sidewalk with his candy and has never been a grump, we've loved him since the first time we met. I call him my husband's friend because he keeps him too long talking and it's obvious he wants out of our house to sell his candy. We've never taken the candy and he always gets ten bucks, always leaving with a cold Gatorade and a few bananas.

     "James! You must be freezing your butt off! Come in, hey Bill, James is here," I yelled.
     "Dude, you're working tonight in this?" Bill asked.
     "I have to hurry with something James, nice seeing you!" I hurried.

    The ribbon of feathers had to be attached to the scroll and tied with a piece of twine but I could overhear their conversation from my art studio. James had been out all night and we were the only people who answered the door. Yes, he was a new dad now and was excited to share. Now he could buy his son a Christmas present." I knew Bill had given him the cash we had set aside for Christmas day movie night.

     "Give James the banner, he's a new dad and needs these words of encouragement," the voice said.
     "No, it's Rose's gift."
      "Give James the gift, please," it repeated.

    Curlers in my hair, I walked to the door and handed James the gift with a body that felt more like a robot than human. "Merry Christmas! Now that you're a dad, this will come in handy. Please, open it later, when you're alone," I said.

He beamed with expectation, the healthy kind and Bill stood there with his mouth showing bottom teeth. Sneaky, I whispered to my guides. "not as sneaky as you" they might have answered.

     Rose was full of hugs, apologies, kisses when we finally made it to my parents house. My heart grew so big it felt Grinch like and I handed her my gift, a wrapped jar of olives.

   
     The Dalai Lama is right, the person who has the most amount of tolerance will experience good health and sleep. Me, I lost my voice, spent three nights coughing. Last night I went into the kitchen at 2:30 am for water, saw the gorgeous night with falling snow and was overcome with peace and gratitude. I'm on the mend.



   

2014! Happy New Year

     The wind blew the living room shutter open, revealing a purple sky over white lawns. Not a car in sight on this cold and snowy night, a contrast to last week's busyness of bumper to bumper Christmas shoppers and loud voices of visiting relatives and friends. The peace angels wanted the shutter open so we wouldn't miss the magnificence of this winter evening that's laced with a gentle grace. Outside air has lost its voice and I can relate with my laryngitis. I talked too much last week, we all did, trying to be heard in the short amount of time we had with our visiting loved ones. All the holiday decorations are boxed and back in the corner of the attic until next year.

     Happy New Year! So many people said that last night and I'm sure you were text messaged many times as I was with words of encouragement and how great the new year will be. My friends were talking about lighting a green money candle to welcome a prosperous year. In quiet meditation, these words came through,

  You are Light, therefore you are also a candle. Become the flame, burn brightly and enjoy your blessings.  If you prefer to light a candle, know that it is equal to you, there is no separation. Prove nothing, aim for kindness and you will know Grace.