“I must write it all out, at any cost. Writing is thinking. It is more than living, for it is being conscious of living.” Anne Morrow Lindbergh
This quote reached out and grabbed me by the heart when I saw it on the page of fb friend Carol Woodliff, since it speaks profoundly about the intense passion I have for writing. I know that I was born to be a writer and in previous incarnations, have been one, since it comes so easily and freely. I almost never have writer’s block and find that anything I experience can be grist for the mill and often is. Even in the midst of the most enjoyable moments, I toggle back and forth between mindful immersion in it and contemplating how I will communicate it later on, eager to get to my computer to share it. Even in anticipation of an event, I do that. Does that seem weird?
Last year, in a reading with psychic Corbie Mitleid, she told me “Your relationship will be with your Muse.” At the time, I didn’t think to get clarity with her about what that meant. Was she indicating that my partner would also be my inspiration for my creative flow or was she saying that the Muse itself would become lover/partner? Both would be just fine and dandy with me(: There are times when it is heart and soul satisfying to sit in silence and then allow the words to flow, unimpeded, opening to the sprinkles that intensify to torrents. Grateful to be drenched in descriptions.
In recent years, I have opened myself to be what I call “God’s Typist” to whom ideas are dictated. There was a time when I would have thought that description grandiose, but now I know it is accurate. We are all hollow reeds through which celestial music can be played if we allow for it. Writing also one of my healthy addictions and that which keeps me sane and vertical at times. I am grateful to have been tapped.
There are some days when I would imagine writing for 12 hours straight, taking time for potty breaks and a wee bit of food, but otherwise immersed in my craft. At the moment, I am listening to my favorite radio station (WXPN 88.5 in Philadelphia), on Saturday morning of Memorial Day Weekend, letting my fingers dance across the keyboard, Pat Metheney instrumental version of the Norah Jones made famous composition (written by Jesse Harris) “Don’t Know Why” wafting across the airwaves. The dryer is doing its job across the hall, Nag Champa incense lightly billowing through the air. Just had cereal with all kinds of colorful berries…straw/rasp/blue and am sipping Rooibos tea…enjoying the multi-sensory experience. Anticipating a hotter than normal late Spring that feels like mid Summer day with a wide open schedule into which I will sprinkle a playout at the gym, cleaning, time with friends and of course….writing.
Wishing you all wondrous worlds of words.
When I went to bed last night, I chose to program a question to be answered by the time my fingers touched the keyboard this morning. I didn’t have a theme for today’s Bliss Blog, so I asked the Muse for a specific, definitive concept. Like lucid dreaming, it has worked for all kinds of creative geniuses and inventors throughout the ages, so I figured “What the heck?” Long about 4 :15 a.m., I awoke to the sound of some of my favorite kirtan artists named Deva Premal, Miten and Manose, singing a beautiful ode to do-overs, called Second Chance.
I hung my hat on a wishing tree
I asked for one wish – I could’ve had three
but I only asked for what I needed
could’ve asked for money, riches and wealth
but all I really wanted was to find myself
unaccustomed as I was to seeking
and my heart whispered inside and the moon rose and the angels sighed..
and they said… here comes your second chance
you’d better believe it open up and receive it here comes your second chance
take a deep breath, this is your second chance.
make peace with your mother and your father, too
make peace with the stranger inside of you
and forgive yourself for the things you tried and failed to do
embrace your anger, your lust and your greed
that’s how we drop the things that we don’t need
pick up a musical instrument or plant a seed
that was my heart whispering inside ‘welcome’ it said, ‘you’re home and dry’
[chorus] well the years went by and my wish came true
and i find myself here with you
i had to climb that mountain there was no way around it
and we all come and go like waves in the sea
each with our own responsibility
to leave this world more beautiful than we found it
that’s your heart whispering inside
and you know your heart, it never lied
And here comes your second chance….
Not quite wide awake at that hour, but not yet ready to dive back into sleep, I allowed myself the luxury of meandering through the pages of the past 53 years of my life and consider the many and varied do-overs and re-creations of myself. Fifteen years ago, I was immersed in severe self-doubt, second guessing nearly every decision, a co-dependent chameleon who changed colors lest I lose approval. Calling my caregiving tendencies an insurance policy against rejection and abandonment, I was an emotional contortionist would bend over backward to please people. Sometimes I cringe when I think about the me-that-I-was and then I reach out to ‘her’ in compassion, for if not for her courage in getting past the enmeshed, enabling, self-sabotaging behaviors, you wouldn’t be reading these words. So much has transpired in the interceding years; including the illness and death of my husband and parents, working with people with mental health challenges, relationship roller coaster rides, stretching my comfort zones with career choices, becoming a free lance journalist, interviewer and author, taking what I have learned (some through joy, some through sorrow) to guide other people through sometimes rocky terrain. I have learned to trust the guidance of Spirit, that it will lead me to serve the Highest Cause. These days, I still find myself (or, actually, lose myself) in inner critiholism, even as recently as this morning, which snarled at me, “If you’re all that, then how come…..?” (and I filled in the blank with a few of my not-yet-arrived-heart’s-desires). I quickly remedied the thought with the response of “Since you ARE all that, what you desire is here now and you welcome in the rest as it shows up.” and then I did a count my blessings list. All of this can be done in a heartbeat.
Today, my prayer is that I embrace any and all Second Chances that the Universe sees fit to offer, with grace and gratitude.
Thank you to my friends Miten, Deva and Manose for showing up in my dream last night(:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z5QO66phajs Second Chance by Miten with Deva Premal and Manose
I was looking at my facebook page a short while ago and marveling at the beatifically beaming little faces as I beheld their beauty. Friends from all over the planet, brought together through the marvels of modern technology. We celebrate each others’ success, comfort each other in times of sadness or sorrow. We offer prayers and delve into spiritual concepts. We offer windows into each others’ hearts and souls, even if we may never physically cross paths. We share a bond nevertheless. Some I have known since childhood (family of birth) and some throughout my life, that I call family of choice.
I had been on an interview with two of them tonight hailing from Canada, named Aline Ohannessian and Roni Lipstein. If not for the facebook phenom, it is unlikely that we would have connected, since I am here in the Philadelphia, PA area. Their show is called BEingLOVE on Souls Talking Brain and I had the joy of speaking about Life, The Universe and Everything (my favorite subject since it is endlessly fascinating). Of course, I shared about the Beliefnet Bliss Blog so more folks can join us here.
I had commented to the hosts that speaking to them via skype felt so Star Trek, so much like what would have been sci-fi when I was a kid and yet, here we were, chatting away. I laughed because it felt so natural now. As a result of the interview, my shiny-happy-people posse is growing larger.
I often think about the chain of events that led me from where I was to where I desire to be and the beyond belief people I have met as a result. It’s that Hansel and Gretel Breadcrumb Trail that I speak of often that introduced me to one person, who opened the door to another, who said “Ooooohhhh, you should meet this person!” So many kindred spirits gathered ’round. Sometimes I wonder if certain experiences occur so many years earlier that may make no sense at the time, but a stretch later, bring a knowing nod and a “NOW I get it. That was preparing me to do this thing, without which having had the earlier encounter, I would not have been able to accomplish.” Cool beans how the Universe works.
Over the weekend, I drew more people into my sphere, from attending a Gay Pride event in support of LGBT folks to doing ‘yoga on the steps’ of the Philadelphia Art Museum and all the precious moments in between. I also honor those who have been in my life in one form or antother for many years. My friends are my treasures and I am a wealthy woman as a result.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=iCQ0vDAbF7s Shiny Happy People by REM
I grew up with parents who preached “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” Perhaps somewhat good guidance to prevent mean spirited communication, but I took it to heart in a rather co-dependent, self muzzling kinda way. It has take many years, dare I say 5 decades to trust myself to speak with tact even if I am delivering a less than desirable message. Sometimes the conversation is between myself and another person and then there are occasions when the communcation is between myself and the Universe. Sunday was one such.
For those who didn’t see yesterday’s Bliss Blog entry, I spoke about a transcendent experience that occurred on Sunday when I joined 1699 kindred spirits on the steps of the Philadelphia Art Museum (Rocky’s stomping grounds:) for Yoga On The Steps For Living Beyond Breast Cancer. What I didn’t share was what happened before I set my feet and tush on my purple Gaiam yoga mat that has served me well since 2004 and has been the magic carpet that has taken me on many a journey both inward and outward. I left my Bucks County, PA home in what I figured was plenty of time to arrive for 8:30 a.m. registration. Smooth sailing all the way, including Kelly Drive which is generally filled with cars. I was enjoying the bright and beautiful early morning sunshine, arm out the window, doing what our family called “breezing”, with the childhood admonition from my Uncle Jim “Don’t stick your arm out too far, it might go home in another car.” One of the perks of adulthood is that you get to breeze if ya wanna. As I approached the art museum, I saw a line of folks waiting to register, that stretched a good way down the block. I turned my head to seek a parking spot. The nearby lot was full, so I curved around the block, expecting that I would find an “Uncle Jimmy spot” right away. The same uncle who warned about the perils mentioned above was also adept at finding the perfect parking spot and he bequeathed that gift to me long before his passing. This time, the parking powers weren’t as forthcoming. I drove around a six block radius for 20 minutes or so, feeling increasingly frustrated, about to tumble into major meltdown. Here I was on my way to a yoga event, feeling all churned up inside. I had seen several people pull into vacating spots, literally right in front of me. This felt like a test of the emergency sanity system.
It was then that I allowed myself to be less than zen and used words that aren’t in my spiritual vocabularly and let fly with a few expletives framing the word, “I demand a parking spot NOW, please!” (still managed a bit of politeness:) Whatya know? I drove onto a street that parallels the museum and the perfect spot was waiting for me, it was free and directly across from my destination. Bonus was that the registration line was much shorter by the time I got there. I laughed with delight and relief, wondering if it was that final push that allowed the Celestial parking attendant to open a place for my Jeep. Being raised to be nice, I have a difficult time with people who are demanding and entitled and anger is not my favorite emotional state and yet, there are times when it is called for and making reasonable demands may get you what you are asking for. At least it works for parking spots.
http://youtu.be/DUDtFdnn9oQ The Car Song by Woodie Guthrie