Dream Big

My Mirror

2008-07-22T22:10:00.000-04:00

(for Kyle)

Once upon a time, where time is not linear and creation floods forth from the light
Leftover fragments of genius, wisdom, knowledge, and wonder sparked in the air, became whole
So great the power, it could burn up and fade away or propel into greatness
But it was given to the strongest of souls, who knew how to survive and channel it

Words, ideas, images, voices, characters, scenarios, random thoughts, organized thoughts
Forming and reforming, moving through kaleidoscope patterns, formations, designs, and puzzles
Finding their way from your brilliant mind into stories and poems and avenues of release
Words were your armor, covering the stifling and sterile walls that enclosed you

When we were war buddies, citizens of Rome, or two gods on Mount Olympus itself
We held up the mirrors: behold your bravery, behold your beauty, see your divinity shining out
Witness the belief in yourself and feel the key in your hand, run further than you have ever dared
Share this unconditional love, grace, and acceptance…and know that you are never alone

Words
We can never get enough of them, nor always make sense of them
They will make us smile, laugh, cry and rage
We have the power to harness them and watch their energy light up cities and countries

When we sat across the table from each other, everything made sense
The past, the present, the certainty of a glorious future…even while emerging from shadows
Old enough to know better, young enough to learn more, sharing our mistakes and victories
The discovery of knowing one’s own heart, one’s mind…a gift that can never be taken away

Words
As the scent of flowers filled the street and the golden moon brushed the tree tops
There were so many words in my heart, singing loudly, yearning to be heard by you…
But I held them back until I am certain that years mean nothing, time is not linear, and creation will flood forth from the light

A Commissioning

2007-12-22T10:40:00.000-05:00

My sister-in-law is one of my favorite massage clients.

These days, she is doing the work of three people. She is working wife, full time mother (it's ALWAYS full time in my opinion, daycare or not), and nursemaid to an invalid husband--my brother. Her life has changed drastically in the last two years since my brother's diagnosis with the fatal MSA (Multiple System Atrophy) She must be made of steel to expend the physical and mental energy that she does every single day, and not wither and crumple from exhaustion. And this is why I love to have her on my table...feel her muscles finally go slack, drink in the healing touch that she never receives anymore, and turn off her mind.

But during this past appointment, right in the middle of her massage, she asked me if I would write her husband's story--complete with interviews and fact gathering--and record it in a book so that her 6 year-old son would have something to remember his father by when my brother is no longer with us. "Just take some time to think about this. I know it will be a lot of work and I'm willing to pay you whatever fee your freelance people charge...but I think with your writing skills, and being his sister, you'd be the best person for this task."

My heart was in my throat. I almost had to stop what I was doing. I was so very honored to be asked to do something like this. I immediately imagined using the Shutterfly book creation as a medium, when I'm all finished writing it. "Can I just tell you yes, right now?" I asked with a smile. She said absolutely.

I am really looking forward to doing this. But it has to be soon. This winter, in fact. Because we're just not sure how long my brother has. One bout with pneumonia or any other respiratory disease easily caught in this season could wipe him out, with his already-weakened lung power and labored breathing.

After Christmas, I will go over and start the first interview. His story will probably begin in our little house in Toledo, long before I was born. I will probably learn things about my brother that I never knew before, so it will be a gift for me as well.

The Universe continues to remind me why it is that I left the beautiful coast of California to return to my hometown, and it continues to take the sting off missing it there.

Rebirth ~ My Lomi Lomi Experience

2007-12-05T23:29:00.000-05:00

I am in heaven.

No, seriously...Crowded House even said so.

If there is hell on earth
There must be heaven too
All in one place
And not a second to waste

I remember when Lomi Lomi was just some antiquated term I had to memorize on my first test in massage school. We studied the history of massage and all the different types that existed in ancient times. Lomi Lomi belonged to the Polynesians.

But it's not antiquated. It's alive and well; a Hawaiian tradition that's been passed down and just recently experienced a renaissance in spas and other bodywork centers.

Some therapists take the course and incorporate a few of the moves into their general massage. My sister--who NEVER does anything half-assed, took a 2-week course in Hawaii and learned how to do the real, bona fide Lomi Lomi Hawaiian Temple massage. She prices it high, because it's a very involved, labor-intensive treatment, but also so that people will respect its solemnity.

This specialized massage involves setting a prayer intention, Hawaiian chanting, specific music that works with the movement, minimal draping (I would never do this with anyone BUT my sister), and long, fluid, continuous forearm movements up and down the length of the body--using lots and lots of heated oil.

My sister, during her training, was instructed to do a kind of "vision quest" in which something would come to her to use in her own personal practice of this sacred work. A melody came into her head, which later became a Hawaiian lullaby that she would sing on her guitar before each treatment begins. It's a very nurturing and personal type of healing work. A spiritual embrace, if you will. And at the end, the last move is to cover the body completely with a drape, and then "unveil" the person a couple of times. Then oil is wiped off lovingly with a warm towel. I felt like a newborn baby, cleaned up and unveiled for her "new" life. My sister says this treatment is indeed supposed to symbolize a rebirth.

The profound thought that ran through my head (before slipping into Alpha state) was that this woman was always a teacher to me. From the time I was a toddler (she is ten years my senior) she would care for me like a pseudo-mother. She would take me on walks and teach me about birds migrating in the fall. She sang me to sleep with songs played on her guitar, and I later learned to sing from listening to her example. She was my piano teacher. And most importantly, she was my inspiration for following in her massage therapy footsteps. I believe that she will always be a teacher of sorts in this lifetime.

But today, she was my Medicine Woman. And she is the real deal.

The babying continued all the way back to her log cabin out in the country where her wonderful husband had fixed us both a scrumptious dinner, complete with a hearth fire, twinkly Christmas lights & music, and peaceful energy. Later in the evening we enjoyed sitting under the bright starry sky in her new hot tub...with NO light pollution anywhere around us...in the frosty air. Talk about a sensual paradise!

Yes, tonight I am in heaven. And my heart continues to overflow with gratitude.

Namaste.

Rain, Tears, Music and Glory

2007-12-03T01:11:00.002-05:00

What an intense week it's been. My god!

For most of November, I was in a cruise mode with lots of new clients calling for appointments and making frequent trips to the bank to deposit checks. It certainly helped that the local newspaper did a self-requested feature on me and my business--bringing world-class spa experience back from California to the people of my hometown. Between that article and Craig's List, my massage office was a hoppin'. My heart soared with gratitude, and I had hope for the future.

Every time my heart started to ache for Santa Barbara, the Universe would send me a reminder of why I came back. One night it was gathering of the wonderful circle of friends I know through my "bff" (heh) Martha. We all had dinner together and laughed and drank wine and toasted our dear departed Zochae by making the " back-hills guy noise" that he always used to do, to make everyone laugh. Martha has been doing pretty good, all things considered, but she has her up days and down days as far as dealing with widowhood. I am so very happy to spend lots of time with her, and bring smiles and laughs to her face. And she certainly brings smiles to mine, especially when she shows me things like Potter Puppet Pals

So this past week, two things happened that suddenly made me cave in on myself: the business slowed WAY down, and the yucky gray-soggy-rainy-barren landscape weather set in. They don't sound too hateful on their own, but mix in some crazy hormone stuff (usually doesn't happen to me during that special time of month, but lately....) and another cold that turned me into a virtual snot factory....and you've got full on implosion.

Never in my life have I related to the song California Dreamin so much (with the exception of the line "...if I was in LA," because...yuck.)!

It really helped to go spend a Saturday with my dear friend Jackie in Columbus (a friend who just dropped into my life like a gift this past summer, and who has turned out to be one of the bestest friends ever). We seem to share many points of view and have many parallels going on in our lives...and could've probably sat and talked for a couple more days without running out of things to say. And she has a very sweet doggie. And some kickass friends!

But once I left her house this morning and drove from Columbus to Cincinnati, the dam just broke and my tears came down with the rain that pelted my car and kept spraying my windshield...and my head ached and my clothes were tight (GOT DAMN weather killing my motivation to exercise, and increasing my motivation to eat comfort food)...and I just didn't want to be here. I wanted to hibernate in a warm cave.

When I got to the church in Cincinnati where my sister Carol was playing piano with a lovely and harmonious choir...my heart just opened up and I had to keep wiping tears from my eyes. The music and harmonies and her lovely piano solos were all so moving, and it was bittersweet because our time together is fleeting. She has just met the man who is most likely (I'm talkin' 99%) the "One" but he lives in Maine. I got to meet him, finally, because he was there visiting. I have never seen my sister look so radiantly happy as she played. I'm happy they crossed paths and fell in love. But she will probably move to Maine sometime next year, and we'll be separated by geography once again. So I savored time with her...in her cozy historical home in Covington with a view of the Cincinnati skyline, and in her warm kitchen with homemade lasagna in the oven, with other family members gathered around.

Once again, the Universe reminded me, "This is the stuff you were missing in Santa Barbara. This was one of your reasons for coming back."

I then went to one more concert, and this one was truly remarkable. My sister Laura joined the Cincinnati Camerata; a body of singers and musicians who perform the most breath-taking, tear-inducing chorales you've ever heard. I was so proud of her up there singing her heart out in her black gown and with her silver-streaked hair done up so pretty. I listened as I sat next to my favorite (and oldest) brother, who also loves chorales, and another sister...and I just let myself be swallowed up by it. Soon, my tears turned into a radiant smile. I was home. I was surrounded by family. I felt the glory of the music and the talent that runs rampant in our genes...and it was all okay.

I arrived safely through the wind and rain, into the warm & cozy home of my childhood where I am currently residing. And yeah, things are scary...my business is new and fragile and unpredictable, the weather and landscape are so much less desirable than where I lived for the past 2 years, but I am among friends and family. My cold isn't lingering and is on its way out. And Christmas is coming.

Christmas decorations, twinkly lights, the smell of pine, carols in the air....and hopefully snow. I would love snow to fall before I visit my dear friend and his new wife in New York City. Together, they are helping me live a life dream of seeing the Big Apple at Christmastime. Complete with Rockefeller Center Christmas tree and skating in Central Park.

And all is well in my world.

My Final Days of Barbarianism

2007-11-10T00:23:00.001-05:00

I’m still reeling from a major life transition, caught between two worlds and trying to move forward as best I can.

If it hadn’t been for those final days in Santa Barbara…days that were like the rich, sweet, mouth-watering icing on the “cake” that was my life there…perhaps things would be different. But I’m sitting here with the sweet taste still in my mouth, reflecting on what an impact that city had on my life. Especially those wild, spontaneous, final days of unpredictable and unadulterated fun.

Santa Barbara was so many things to me, I don’t even know where to start.

Santa Barbara was healing. When you’re caught between the silent strength of the Santa Ynez Mountains and the unstoppable rhythmic power of the Pacific …you can’t help but feel the energy charge. You feel old wounds slowly begin to heal and disappear. You develop an innate ability to focus on the now, and the endless possibilities in your life.

Santa Barbara is flat-out freakin’ BEAUTIFUL. Wherever you turn, there is a view. The mountains, the palms, the streets canopied with tunnels of Italian pines, the Spanish architecture, the shops and galleries and cafes and fountains…a virtual feast for the senses. A window looking out on State Street is writer’s paradise…between the assortment of people one can watch passing by outside and the colorful conversations going on inside, there is always plenty of fodder for story scenes and ideas.

Santa Barbara makes it easy to stay fit. Between the beach walks, the mountain hiking trails, the ethnic restaurants, and the sparse fast food chains…one can eat healthy, get free exercise, and hardly ever crave the hibernation and comfort food that accompany long periods of cold and gray.

Santa Barbara has a lot going on in the way of theatre, music, yoga, dance classes and other cultural events. However, there are more places in its downtown nightlife that cater to the twenty-somethings and college kids. As a forty year-old woman, I yearned for a man who didn’t need to drink a lot in order to have fun, and who found great value in staying home, snuggling in, cooking dinner and watching funny movies together. I’ll be damned if I didn’t manifest this very man in the eleventh hour.

“Hey Alex, want some apple pie?”

Ah, the question that launched a beautiful friendship. One of the most extraordinary friendships I’ve ever had in my life, actually. I’d just returned from a cross-country flight from Ohio (after a whirlwind tour of NYC, Ohio and North Carolina) and was exhausted. Thank goodness I stopped to check my email before heading to bed, because that’s when he peeked in and saw me home.

“He,” being my handsome, affable neighbor from two doors down. The man who, for the longest time, was known as “cute single dad neighbor.” He’d moved into the complex during the previous winter and often had his eight year-old son living with him there. My first impression when I saw him was “very friendly, very lovable…but wounded heart.” He always had a bright smile and a hello whenever we’d cross paths. Listening to the empathetic and genuinely caring way he talked to his boy, I knew he was a really good dad and therefore possessed a really golden heart. I admired him from a distance until one night, under a lovely full moon, we stopped to talk on our balcony and he shared about his recent divorce. I offered him compassionate words about having been there for siblings when they all went through that sort of heartbreak. I also told him I thought he was doing really well for himself, all things considered.

Later, when spring turned to summer, we met up at the pool a lot and got to know one another. I learned of his very extraordinary (there’s that word again) career that entailed setting up special events at famous places with scenery, balloons, draping and various media. When he wasn’t doing that, he was doing carpentry. Never a dull moment and never a day of cube farm slavery. An artist in his own right, who was not moody—but very grounded, confident, humble and hilarious.

“You whistle a lot, so you must be pretty happy,” I told him one day as we shot each other with squirt guns in the pool.

He just gave me an evil grin and replied, “Or crazy.”

I knew then that we were going to be very good friends. We resonated with one another. I understood his whacked sense of humor, and he understood my appreciation for men who could make me laugh. Our night of apple pie and a long talk until 1 am sealed the deal.

My neighbor has a very unique name, so to protect his anonymity, I will henceforth refer to him as “Mike.” This is what my friend’s son insisted on calling him all day on the 4th of July when we all hung out at the pool. My friend does look a little like a Mike, so it works. He also looks like a brown-eyed, younger version of Chris Isaak…in a small way.

When Mike finally found out that I was leaving for Ohio at the end of summer, alarm registered in his eyes. “You are? Did you tell me that already???”

“It never came up,” I said sheepishly, and with a hint of sadness. I was hearing Alanis Morissette’s Isn’t It Ironic playing in the background of my mind, and it stayed on “repeat” for the next three days. And then I actually met Alanis the following week. Isn’t THAT ironic?

Knowing that we only had a month and a half in which to enjoy one another, Mike and I launched into a blue streak of fun. We took his son hiking up to a local swimming hole in the mountains. We laughed at stand-up comics and old episodes of The Office until our guts hurt and our smile muscles went numb. We watched a couple of movies and took turns falling asleep in the middle of them. He cooked me Chinese dumplings and basmati rice, and I made him veggie wraps and root beer floats. We stole snatches of conversation at the pool in between laughing at his son’s crazy waterbug antics. (His son was adorable and had one of the most amazing personalities I’ve ever seen in an 8-year-old kid).

Mike helped me open myself up to dating fathers again. In a past relationship, my mate was not willing to love me and his child equally (believe me, I know there is no love like a love for one’s child; however, the two kinds of love are apples and oranges and can therefore be shared evenly) and it broke my heart, so I slammed the door on single dads and locked it. Mike and his son showed me how sweet it can be to share a man’s existing family, and next thing I know, the door was unlocked and open again.

Oh, but there was SO much more!

In my final days of Santa Barbara, I became a vampire!

Mike kept a very odd work schedule with self-imposed graveyard shifts. He drank coffee at midnight and went down to his studio by the beach until the sun came up.

Ah, the studio! A magical place, that. It was like a grown-up version of Peewee’s Playhouse. There were all kinds of props and toys and decorations hiding up in the rafters behind tarps. There were rows and rows of boxes holding everything from hardware pieces to toys. Mike had guitars, keyboards, a trumpet and three different kinds of speakers. There was an office in a loft upstairs, and a play area for his son downstairs. Outside the main room was a complete wood shop with sawdust on the floor. To top it all off, there was a killer sound system resounding through the entire side of the warehouse. Everything packed into that studio chronicled his life thus far. And a colorful life it was.

I never tired of hearing his life stories. World-class yapper that I am, it was rather good for me just to listen for a change. He was always amazed that I cared. Mike rarely asked questions about my life, but when I chose to share something he’d listen and make earnest comments that let me know he’d really heard.

There were also times when we shared long periods of silence. With my cup of midnight coffee I would sit on a stool and watch him work. He slapped shelves together like they were Leggos, and it fascinated me. He was so strong and capable and could tackle just about anything. Sometimes in those moments of silence, he’d come out of left field with a very honest and heartfelt observation about himself, relationships, or life. It showed me what a deep thinker he actually was, and what a brilliant and beautiful mind he was hiding behind a mask of nonsense.

My only disappointment with Mike was that he would not let me in. He admitted to always having been that way, and using his incessant humor to keep people at bay. His humor could be wonderful, like an injection of happiness, but it could also be a royal pain in the ass when it didn’t let up in moments of seriousness. That was okay too, because at that point—with the question of him being a future boyfriend moot—I was much better able to accept him exactly as he was.

Every few days I found myself drawn back to the studio, following him around as he excitedly showed me all his toys and projects and plans for renovation. He’d play obscure songs I hadn’t heard since high school (it was so nice having the same love of music and movies in common) and actually turned me on to others that I swore I’d never like (*Kid rock, cough cough*) There was a perfect spot in between all the mounted speakers where you could literally feel the resonance of the music all around you, every note so crisp and sharp.

“I will forever remember my final days in Santa Barbara as a vampire, hanging out with Mike Hemmingway (also changed to protect the guilty).”

Mike just smiled and said something like, “…and I’ll remember hanging out with Alexandra.”

Then came the final night in my beloved American Riviera.

After I’d said goodbye to all my friends, Mike and I went to a diner and had our last face to face heart to heart. When we parted ways, he folded me in his arms and told me, “Anything you decide to do, I’m sure will work out just fine.”

Those words of faith and encouragement and belief in me sank into my heart and have been lodged there ever since.

I am so grateful for my eleventh hour gift of spending time with a guy as intriguing Mike, doing out of the ordinary things, and feeling more alive than ever before. It was a wonderful note on which to end a beautiful chapter.

Sometimes, I feel that “Mike” was the embodiment of everything Santa Barbara was to me. Beautiful, charming, fun, and so easy to be with…but with aspects that discouraged permanency.

I drove away the next morning, down the 101, and left that beautiful paradise behind me. I saw the familiar mountain range grow distant in my rear view mirror. It was so very heartbreaking, and yet I knew it was what I had to do.

And what I’ve learned, two months later, is that it’s still with me. It’s in my heart, it’s in my memories, it is a slideshow of lovely images in my head as I’m going about my work or everyday tasks or just sitting and meditating. Never before has a place gotten so ingrained in my soul. I am truly grateful I had the gift of Santa Barbara in my life, and that I can always use it for my highest good wherever I go and whatever I do.

Getting all this out of my mind and onto a page was absolutely necessary in order for me to keep moving forward…with all endings come new beginnings, and so far this new chapter of my life has worked out well.

In my next entry, I should probably start mentioning all the new victories I have co-created in my life. I swear, life just gets more and more interesting, doesn’t it?

What the FUNK?

2007-03-25T00:13:00.000-04:00

What in the WORLD is going on in the cosmos????

I know a handful (a BIG one) of people who are enveloped in one big cloud of funk right now. Coworkers, online friends, family members back home...local friends, and myself. Many of them have the same common denominator.....struggling with the timetable of the emergence of their lifemate. We are all more than ready. We cannot listen to any more New Age bullshit about why this is, about what we're still not doing or trying, about what we're doing too much of, about the kind of signals we may or may not be sending....SHADDUP already. No one knows what it's like to be us, walking in OUR shoes on OUR path. Sometimes, there is no solace until we just get done with the frustration and tears and impatience and continue marching on through our lives that are full and wonderful...but that would be an extra 110% brighter walking beside another.

I still fully believe the law of attraction will bring that "right" person to me...but like I said...struggling with the timetable is the operative phrase.

But there are other issues. Bigger issues. Issues that sort of tie in with this and sort of don't.

Stuff is going on back home in Ohio. Big, bad ugly stuff. My brother's terminal illness is progressing to the point where his slurred speech is getting worse and his volume is getting weaker so that he can't even speak louder in order for people to understand him. His wife was forced to go back to work and cannot even spend as much time (the little they have left) with him, and with their five year-old son. She very humbly reminded family members that visits with Tony cheer him up immensely, and that either his private nurse or she could drive him over to their homes if need be.

OMFG. *flood of tears* This wasn't supposed to be how his retirement years went. He was supposed to be traveling and building his home in Gold Beach, Oregon. He was supposed to be active and healthy and able to take his son out to play ball. His wife was finally able to stay home with her only child...and then couldn't.

At Christmas, I took solace in the fact that Tony was smiling and savoring every second watching his son and enjoying family togetherness. It's what kept me from being a blubbering idiot when I was around him. Dear, loving Tony. How I wish life didn't do this to people I love.

And speaking of that, my best friend's husband is also fighting death. Early thirties, brilliant artist, father of two lovely little boys and wonderful husband....again, it sucks royally when fate deals people like him such a shitty hand. My friend went back to night school to get her MA in healthcare management...so that she can make ends meet if the unthinkable happens. I like to keep holding a vision of him as an old man. One of those rare people on Oprah who says, "they only gave me three months, and here I am. I beat it." Oh, how I want that for my dear friend. She lost her mother to cancer....would lightning really strike TWICE?

And finally...my mother's condition (according to worrisome siblings) is getting to the point where they are trying to gently ease her toward a retirement home.

Goddammit. I so wanted her to be able to finish her days happily in her lovely Dutch Colonial home on a lovely acre of private land in a quiet suburb.

So here is what's been turning around and around in my head for the past three nights, as I lay awake unable to sleep.

Perhaps I do want to go back. Just for awhile. Just to be near all these dear, beloved people who may not be around much longer.

I'm afraid I'll regret it if I don't. But I'm afraid of what life would be like back in a place of dead ends and painful memories. Maybe it won't be so bad after all. Maybe after staying with my mom for awhile, I could eventually move to North Carolina but be close at hand---just in case.

Oh, I just don't know.

I do know what the ideal situation would be. To meet this fantastic, phenomenal, incredibly LUCKY man who will one day be my husband, who just happens to be from back east and who also wants to go back there and get a house. How perfect would THAT be? Because I'm tired of gallivanting and pioneering by myself. It was fun while it lasted, but it's a much richer blessing (to me) to share the chore (and adventure!) of survival with another--who is your best friend and lover. It took one of my sisters three tries to find someone like this--and the third time was a charm. I really am so incredibly tired of going it alone that I feel like lying down and giving up. A sit-down strike to the universe.

I have committed myself, my new business, and this dream of finding publication contacts to one more year here in California. By autumn, perhaps I'll know whether it's time to leap or not.

In the meantime, I keep walking. I keep smiling (even when I sometimes don't feel like it). I keep taking comfort in my very rewarding career and business. I find bliss in continuing to write stories. I feel deep gratitude for all the friends and loved ones in my life--local and far away.

Really, everyone is just a heartbeat away. Even my husband (that lucky, lucky bastard! I wonder if this guy even has any INKLING of how f-ing lucky he's about to become) ; )

It's good to blog again. I won't be in here everyday, but this just HAD to get out.

Namaste, y'all.

My Dream Journey of the Pacific Northwest

2006-11-03T00:44:00.000-05:00

This is a very long travel journal...mainly put here so I can tell dozens of friends and family members about my trip in one central location!

Pacific Northwest Odyssey

Oct 18, 2006

My journey began at Druid Labs West, aka my dear friends’ (Mike and Cathy) home in Port Townsend, Washington. I was feeling refreshed and glowing after a couple of days in their warm, cozy and hospitable nest. They sent me on my way laden with maps and good wishes.

I traveled west along Hwy. 101 toward Olympic Park. The weather was cloudy and drizzly, par for the course in that region, but it didn’t matter. The road was lined with tall evergreens and smatterings of trees with changing colors in brilliant reds, oranges, and golds. It was the first time I’d gotten to experience autumn in two years!

Crescent Lake was the first region I drove through…a very deep lake formed by receding glaciers. It reminded me of scenery in Wales or Scotland. I kept going until I reached my first destination of Marymere Falls.

A short hiking trail through part of the local temperate rainforest led to them. I had never seen such a forest before—huge moss-covered trees, large ferns and other foliage that looked like hobbits and fairies might just pop out from behind a rock. It was truly magical.

The falls were very tall, plummeting to a deep pool below. After snapping some pics and observing a very well-informed field trip going on there, I returned to the highway and kept going until I got to the Sol Duc Hotsprings.

These mineral pools were channeled into swimming pools to maintain the water quality. But they were very soothing on my body which had compiling aches and stiffness from the week’s events. There were interesting people there—a couple from LA with a psychic radio show that airs in Santa Barbara, a really good-looking young guy with a deep voice and southern accent from Lexington, Kentucky. It’s such a small world, sometimes. People from the areas of both my homes!

I had a good chuckle in the Sol Duc gift shop, where a rogue squirrel was brazenly running in and attempting to steal candy bars from the candy rack! The poor clerk was running herself ragged trying to stomp and scare him out of the store.

Just outside Sol Duc was the Salmon Cascades,
where I actually got to see real salmon leaping up the waterfalls! I’d only seen this kind of thing on nature shows all my life, and it was so thrilling to actually see it happening before my eyes. Not only are they beautiful, turning different hues of red and gold, but they’re BIG and STRONG suckers! They muster up all their strength in a pool, then suddenly shoot upward and land on the next rock, wiggling all the while until they’re back in the water again. Sometimes an extra powerful one would make the entire leap from one pool to the next. Wow. Amazing what nature is capable of when it’s taking care of business.

I ended my day in Forks, a tiny little fishing town near the west coast of Washington.

October 19, 2006

I began my day with a massage from a therapist who had her sign painted onto the storefront window on the main drag. I was glad to find someone, since I was pretty achy by this time, but she wasn’t the best therapist in the world (I think she was new) and her music was short and redundant. It was enough for temporary relief, though, and got me ready for my day-long beach tour.

Rialto Beach was my first stop. I heard the thundering waves from behind a tall sand embankment before I even saw the water. But when I got my first glance of the wild, crashing waves I had a sense of déjà vu and coming home. Was I a Quileute Indian in a past life? The ocean was so ruggedly wild and beautiful I nearly got tears in my eyes. I saw warning signs about how dangerous the waves could be, and how “sneaker waves” could hurl big, dangerous drift logs at unsuspecting beach walkers. All the huge trunks littering the beach like a hallowed burial ground told me the signs do NOT lie! This was a very different sort of coast. Much different than anywhere I’d ever been. Rialto was a rocky beach so when the waves receded they raked across the stones and made a babbling, musical sound. I also saw two seals and a sea otter lolling around in the surf. Bliss!

I visited the beach at La Push, a site recommended by a coworker, and enjoyed more views of waves and sea stacks. It wasn’t as great as my coworker made it out to be, but lovely nonetheless.

Ruby Beach, further down the coast, had a longer beach and more sea stacks. I took a long afternoon walk up and down its coast, exploring cliffside caves and taking interesting pictures of sand patterns at low tide. I was glad to get the exercise after spending long hours driving in the car, stuck in one position. The sun decided to break through the hazy clouds in mid afternoon, which transformed the entire landscape for the rest of the day. The bluish hills along the 101 contrasted nicely with coloring trees.

Lake Quinault looked very Scottish and peaceful when I got there in late afternoon. Pink, wet, watercolor clouds swirled around the sky above it, and I made the decision to stop there for the night. The lodge was a tad bit on the expensive side, but I decided it was worth having a warm, cozy place to land rather than uncertainty at sundown. It was very Alpine looking with green moss growing on its roof. Like something straight out of Heidi! I treated myself to a really delicious meal at a restaurant down the road: steak and sautéed scallops with some nice chardonnay and a view of the lake as I journaled!

Back at the lodge I enjoyed my expensive room with a fake fireplace and a balcony overlooking the lawn and lake in the distance. There was no TV, so I read my magazine, did crossword puzzles, wrote postcards, and drank hot chocolate after a hot bubble bath. Although a room like this would’ve been better shared with a romantic partner, I did just fine.

October 20, 2006

Just after sunrise, I made a brief visit to Merriman Falls (down the road). It was so peaceful in the early morning with just me and its sonorous song as it fell down the layers of rocks—and no other people or cars around. A great way to begin the day! I sang an old Appalachian spiritual called Bright Mornin’ Stars and wished two of my sisters were there with me to sing the other harmonies.

Then I jumped back into my little silver Kia Spectra and headed further south down the coast. The morning was so blissful until a cop pulled me over and gave me a speeding ticket!  Only 10 miles over, but I think he was biased against cell phone talkers. Well, in dangerous conditions I usually don’t talk on my cell phone—but it was an empty country highway and my 84 year old mother wanted to know how her baby was doing, damn it! I had to laugh because my father got a speeding ticket on his coastal tour…like father like daughter. I guess it’s just too hard to drive 55 when we’re so used to 65-70. Stupid low speed limit! It HURT!

Cathy (I think) had recommended Pacific Pines State Park on a long peninsula in the very south of Washington. It was a very long, wide, rugged and empty beach with lots of sea grass leading up to it. I ate my lunch there and moved on so I could make Oregon by dusk. I crossed the Columbia River, thought of Lewis and Clark and how they saw all this for the first time and must’ve been SO stoked! I went across the famous long double bridge in Astoria, and landed safely in Oregon!

Tom recommended Cannon Beach, and boy was I glad!!! This was my favorite place yet—tons of stately sea stacks with caves in their sides, miles of beach and other tourists (although not out of control like I’m sure summertime would be) and even horses riding along. I spent a good long time there, listening to the crashing surf, taking dozens of pictures, and writing things in the sand. I thought of Ginger and her Mo, because I saw the first of many restaurants called Mo’s, famous for their clam chowder!

Oregon is just like its license plate. Evergreens and manzanita everywhere! And the air smells so fresh and clean. Ahhh…

As the sun set, I stopped for the night in Lincoln City. There were so many cute mom and pop motels to choose from, but because I was so tired, I just chose the first Motel 6 I came to and settled in.

I watched an awful damn lot of TV on this trip, since there was little to do at night in a motel. Probably more than I have in an entire year! LOL I also began to miss hearing the purr of my cat as I fell asleep. It’s something you get so used to, after having a little furbaby for 4+ years.

October 21, 2006

I was never so bedazzled by the Oregon coast as I was this morning. The 101 took me through one beauty spot after another, winding along coastal evergreen-lined cliffs and winding curves. Morning sun filtered through pine forests and sea mist hung lightly in the sunbeams.

One particular scenic viewpoint charmed the socks of me.
It was a flat piece of grassy land on the top of a cliff with waves pounding the rocks all around it. I took tons of pictures, I called a dear friend to share with him the elation I was feeling. The waves literally sounded like jets ripping through the sky and thunder crashing in the heaviest thunderstorm you can imagine. They swelled up in mammoth proportions, then broke heavily, rumbling the ground all around me. What a charge!

I stopped at three other places…the Devil’s Punchbowl (where water fills a crevasse at high tide), a blow horn (which shot water straight up into the sky when frothing waves filled its tunnel), and the sea lion cliffs/rocks. They were so cute barking and lolling around in the surf. There were so many of them all crowded together on the rocks—babies, adults, brown and black ones--probably helping each other stay warm.

Then I did something I’d been waiting to do the entire trip. I played the classical piece The Moldau as I drove along the scenic seaside cliffs, the ocean aglow and spirited just as it is in the song. I figured my dad would’ve done that, had he the means back in the day, because it was one of his favorite pieces. I listened and was grateful that I could take stock in the things of beauty that he passed on to me, and the inspiration for this trip which came from him.

I then had to make some difficult choices about when to leave the coast and how many inland places I had time to visit. Crater Lake was a must, so I turned eastward and headed for Eugene. Another coworker had suggested this town, and it was indeed very small and cute and cultural, like all good college towns should be. It was also a lot warmer, and I spent time walking around a street fair and buying some really cool tie-dye shirts with glittery designs on them.

I tried to make Crater Lake before sundown, but was caught on the scenic by-way of Rt. 138 as night fell. Little did I know that practically NOTHING was open for the season anymore, and that nothing was up at the same elevation as the state park. Diamond Lake had cabins available, but I blew right past the turnoff and ended up driving around steep, guard rail-less roads in the pitch black. Then a winding mountain road went down the other side toward prospect. Winding and turning and going on forever and ever and ever. I was tired and frustrated and praying for an inn or even some hole-in-the-wall motel. At long last I hit a main road again and went through a tiny town called Prospect. There was indeed an antique country hotel/motel, at which I promptly rented a room and crashed hard.

October 22, 2006

It was so nice to wake up and finally see where the hell I was. In a small town in the middle of an Oregon forest! I backtracked to a country café and had a big breakfast so that I’d have the energy to hike around Crater Lake all day and not have to eat again.

It was freezing cold in the morning as I wandered down a path overlooking the rushing, beautiful Rogue River Gorge.

By the time I got back up the mountain at Crater Lake, it had warmed up and I could take my fleece overshirt off. When I parked at Rim Village and walked to the edge, I was absolutely stunned. A big crater of deep blue water, the hue of which I’d never seen in my life anywhere in nature. It was so still and quiet, save the voices of the tourists who arrived at the same time I did. What a spectacular formation the place was, against the bright blue sky and sunshine.

I drove around most of the perimeter (the East Rim was closed), with a light dusting of snow still on the ground from a recent snow shower, and photographed all the sights out on the lake, such as the Ghost Ship rock formation, Pumice Point and Wizard Island. All of these things cast perfect reflections on the mirror-like lake surface. I saw the surrounding mountains in the distance, most prominently Mt. Thielsen—which is usually photographed snowcapped and behind Diamond Lake in calendars and postcards. “Wow,” I kept murmuring, after each shot. “Wow.”

I was pretty disappointed that they’d closed the part of the road that went down to the lake (at the boat dock) because I wanted to get a close-up shot of that deep, clear blue! Oh well…next time.

Wanting to save time, I only took a driving tour, rather than a hiking trail. I wanted to make it to civilization by the end of that day. This time I took Rt. 138 when I could see all the lovely views along the way. I briefly checked out Diamond Lake and a couple of the waterfalls (Clear Creek and Falls Creek, I believe). I could’ve stayed at Clear Creek Falls all day. It cascaded over several rocks, streaming in many different directions. Sunlight dappled its pools and the stream below. The falls were tucked neatly into a sun strewn woods with fairie plants and trees and a soft forest floor of fallen pine needles and red dirt. It was warm and pretty and peaceful there. But I had to move on. *sigh*

Back in Roseburg, I contemplated maps for a good fifteen minutes before realizing that I wanted more to go back out to the Oregon coast more than I wanted to spend a day going down to Mt. Shasta. It was a difficult choice, but I finally realized that maybe I could take a train up there to visit Michelle sometime in the future and tour the famous mountain then.

So I headed west again and settled for the night in Bandon, Oregon. I’d read all about this spot in my research and was really happy to be there and get off the road for a bit after all that driving around. I totally manifested the place I wanted to stay for the night. “Somewhere with a fitness room so I can exercise, a laundry room so I can wash my clothes, Internet so I can say hi to RPeeps, a nice restaurant so I don’t have to go into town, a hot tub so I can soak my weary bod, and right by the ocean so I can hear waves at night.

Guess what? This all took the form of the nicest Best Western I’ve ever seen! If you’re ever in Bandon, OR you MUST go there. I treated myself to another yummy steak and scallop dinner, and this time the chef made a decorative Halloween witch face out of the steak sauce in one corner of the plate! Awesome!

Oct. 23, 2006

I luxuriated in a long beach walk among the sea stacks once more at the beach in Bandon near my motel. What a great way to start the day! Morning sun streaming down the beach, the sound of waves, the fresh air…ah yes.

I took my freshly laundered clothes and headed south on the 101 once again. There were so many scenic views and vistas along the way – some of which I stopped to photograph – others that I just admired as I passed by.

Gold Beach was a cathartic experience for me. All during my trip I’d had a little black cloud following me around. Something weighing on my mind, even though I was able to take in all the fun and beauty I was experiencing. But there was no holding it at bay this time. Just before leaving on my trip I found out that the nervous disorder (very similar to Lou Gehrig’s disease) he was diagnosed with this year is much worse than they originally said. He is now “terminal.”

Gold Beach is where my brother bought retirement property. He had planned to build a home and retire there. It was hard to deal with as it is, but here in this land that he so loved, the land that he’d never build his house on now, it was suddenly right in my face and I had a meltdown.

I cried and cried as the wind whipped sand around my legs and blew hair into my face, thinking about the happy and peaceful brother who used to meet me in Telluride, Colorado for the annual Bluegrass Festival in the nineties…about the many losses he’d endured in just the last decade…the unfairness of life overwhelms me at times. Especially when it involves a loved one. “What did he ever do to deserve this?” I cried to the wind, knowing that there really was no answer to such a question. I collected sand, snippings of plants and trees, rocks and driftwood from the land to send to him. If he couldn’t come to this healing place, I could send a little back to him in hopes that it might bring a little healing or maybe just a smile.

Once I’d collected myself, I just kept holding an intention of healing for him (what else could I do), that he would be very comfortable and surrounded by love in the coming months. When I got back to the car, a message was waiting on my phone from Tom in Seattle. A loving, cheerful message that came just when I needed it the most. There are no coincidences.

I traveled on. Soon, I was back in California.

Coastal views alternated with little patches of redwood groves. I even stopped to watch a family of elk munching by the side of the highway. The buck had a full rack and quite a family with him.

I turned inland, on a long and twisting and grueling mountain road to get from the 101 to Highway 1 so I could visit some coastal towns. I reached the sea by sunset. Highway 1 is lovely upstate, with lots of sea stacks and sections that run through literal tunnels of trees. Since there were no turnouts, I just took mental pictures.

I stopped for the night in Ft. Bragg. My sister Joan called to see where I was. She joked about me having a GPS system attached to my car so she could track my journey each day!

October 24, 2006

Nearly a week on the road. I couldn’t understand why my dad thought the coastal highway was so terrifying. There were never any steep drop-offs without guardrails that worried me. Maybe my dad was a wimp! Hahaha…

I went to Mendocino early in the morning, and apparently the town doesn’t really wake up until 10am. I walked its quaint streets and saw its Victorian homes and strolled along the wooden sidewalks peering into shop windows and stealing glances into secret herb gardens in the back. It was a charming little place, perched on a rugged cliffside covered with long golden grasses by the ocean. I was waiting for Heathcliff to come running up any time!

I finally had enough of scenic byways and coastal highways. After enduring one last trek across winding mountain roads, I hit the 101 and kept going until I reached San Francisco.

I called my friend Mike to see if he was available for lunch, but he had his parents in town. I also called my friend Ryan, who never answered his phone. Oh well…another time, SF peeps.

I stopped in Santa Cruz, thinking I’d land there for the night. Unable to stand my wild, dried-out summertime hair another minute—I found a good salon and got it cut into long layers. It was a good change.

Then my dear friend David left me a message and invited me to stay at his place (in the Monterey area) for the remainder of my journey. He had been the one to take me to the airport when I left, and he was my welcome when I came back. A perfect circle and wonderful way to end the journey.

The next day I scouted out possible places in which to have a private massage practice in both Monterey and Pacific Grove. If I give California one last chance, that is possibly the area I would choose—especially with its close proximity to Big Sur and San Francisco. There were some nice possibilities.

That evening I helped David celebrate HIS birthday, and it was a wonderful time.

I have now taken the trip I’ve been meaning to take since childhood. I came back renewed, enriched and very glad that my life was full of enough abundance to get me there and back comfortably.

I’m feeling a whole lot o’ grateful!

Wellbeing Returns

2006-05-10T11:40:00.000-04:00

You know, it feels really good when these darker moments pass a lot more quickly than they used to in the past. I suppose this is a result of learning which tools to get out of my spiritual toolbox and use.

I talked to a lot of friends and family members in the last few days, and they helped me not feel so alone. But what it all boils down to is my own inner knowing; knowing what's best for myself. My friend hit the nail on the head in her email this morning:

Then there is the third option of just letting it all be as it is and breathing...in and out... in and out... not taking it personally, back to center, dropping the drama, all is well, I can decide in every moment what is in my best intrest by noticing how I feel.

She also left a very affirming and peace-inspiring prayer for me to say at the end.

The fog has cleared. Amazing.Thank you God!

What I need to do is blog more about the inspirational and happy moments that I have in my life here...because, believe it or not, there are MORE of those than the dark periods. I just usually go out and live those moments rather than reflect on and write about them.

A Crossroads

2006-05-09T03:30:00.000-04:00

Many summers ago, me and my best friend Martha were observing a very auspicious day in astrology. It was a significant day for many people across the board--but she and I were on the brink of huge changes in our lives.

To celebrate, we hiked into one of our favorite pine forests(which we miraculously had to ourselves that afternoon), drummed on fallen pine trunks, danced, sang and acted like kids. Then we did a "death meditation." She learned about it in her yoga teacher training...and it is simply to lie down in a meditative state and begin to imagine all that you have, all that you are, everyone you love, going away. Until there is nothing left but your soul & God. Much like dying. We did it as a sort of purification. It was a very powerful and transforming meditation.

Today, I feel like a death meditation is actually happening in my life. I am without many things/people/places that I'd come to rely on for support, for belonging, for a sense of safety...and I'm feeling it. Big time.

I miss my mother so badly I can hardly breathe sometimes. Mother's Day signs are everywhere, and they make me cry. This will be the first one I haven't celebrated with her since the day I was born.

I miss my family and friends from back in Ohio. Yes, I have new ones now--and I'm very grateful for them--but I do miss the others with whom I share a great history. Who know me very well.

I miss my husband. Yeah, you heard me--my husband. If you look at time as Einstein did--the whole relativity thing--there is a man who is my husband, out there somewhere, and I am his wife and we don't know each other yet. I imagine he's feeling the same void I am...and wondering what the hell is taking me so long.

I feel disillusioned about my dream of finding a holistic place or a private practice in which to do my healing arts and bodywork. In order to do that, I would most likely need a mate to help hold down the fort--or for my novels to sell and make me lots of extra money. But I still would not want to have that home by the sea without a lifemate. Who wants to live alone in a rugged coastal countryside? Not me. Not when I could be cooking with him, doing our respective crafts in companionable silence together around the house, and making passionate love on the sun deck or the beach!

I've considered living in Asheville, NC. It is a huge holistic center, with very spiritual and cultural people. Yes, it's also in the bible belt and KKK country...but in the city proper, I'd be safe. And I have relatives in the area. And the Blue Ridge Mts. are gorgeous.

I'm not going to do anything anytime soon without thinking it over long and hard. Weighing everything out. But I am standing at one of the largest crossroads of my life, without a clue.

This is where I'm really going to count on the Divine. I'll do my part--I'll continue to work and be abundant, to write and pursue publication, to keep doing things I love to do and meeting new people...and being loving and patient and compassionate. Most importantly, with myself.

A visit to a therapist yielded some good news: I'm doing all the right things. There's almost little reason for me to be going. But we're going to explore whether or not some leftover "absentee dad" crap is still affecting my life and my relationships.

My heart feels damaged. When the cast comes off (one of my friends says new love can happen while my heart is still IN the cast and help it heal completely) I will have to just blindly trust again. And manifest a man who means what he says, loves consistently, and is OVERJOYED to share his life with me. This will happen when--and only when--it's meant to.

In the meantime, I get to deal with the human rollercoaster emotions. There are up days and down days. Today was WAY down.

You know what I need right now? Just some compassion. Just acceptance of where I'm at in this particular moment. And some good energy. And you can sign my cast if you like, too!

If you're still reading (after this HUGE missive), thank you.

My "Project"

2006-04-18T11:52:00.000-04:00

So for the last month and a half, I've experimented with an online dating site. Mostly, it's been amusing.

I was a little put off by how time consuming it is...going through profile after profile seeing who's even remotely attractive to me, getting sent "matches"...too damn much time at the computer. I could be out looking in person (and would rather be).

But I did this for myself because I was feeling all kinds of resistance to it, so figured I'd shove myself outside my comfort zone. And it's always nice to say you "tried" and left no stone unturned.

But here are the things that amused me...these "matches" that they send you are ridiculous. "We thought you would be compatible with this person because you both don't like body piercing!" Heh. Yeah, there's a foundation for a GREAT relationship. LOL.

Then there's the photo-phobes. The guys who post profiles and not pictures irritate the hell outta me. I want to see who I'm talking to. If you don't post your picture, it makes me think you've got something to hide, are paranoid or insecure. And who wants THAT kinda guy? As my Wonder Twin says, fair is fair. I post, you post.

Now the ones who DO post their photos...why the hell do they post a picture of themselves all huggy-kissy with other women? Don't they want to appear unattached? Or is it some ploy to showcase their popularity with the wimmins? One guy even had his left hand very prominant in the foreground with a gold band on! DUH!!!

The non-responders piss me off, too. If I email them to say hi--and get nothing back, not even a no thank you...I consider that in bad form. The men who've contacted me ALL get a no thankyou or even a well-crafted no-thankyou-email saying that I'm very honored you winked at me, but I feel no connection. My friend who had no luck with a dating site said some of them have profiles but aren't paying--and thus, cannot contact you. So you know what? They're cheap bastards and not worthy of my love EITHER! Ha!

Then there's the needy, persistent, stalker-material guys. They seem WAY too eager..."gosh, I have a soccer match to go to this weekend, would you consider attending it with me, then I can take you to dinner?" Um...excuse me, WHO are you and what was your name? I haven't even spoken with you and you're already making plans for us and sending me all your personal contact info? And if I send someone the aforementioned "no thank you" email, I sometimes get..."But...WHY don't you like me? Can't we just talk? Can't we meet in case you FEEL a connection?"

Dude. I can tell from your picture if I'm going to be the least bit attracted to you. And I'm not asking for Matthew McConnaughey gorgeous, here....I just have to like how you look first. Chemistry is very important to me.

I think I have the most respect for the blatantly honest guys. The guys who say, "I'm into some wild times and great chemistry." He's there to get laid, and he's not being all flowery and mysterious about it. He won't lead some poor "I'm looking for my soulmate" woman down the wrong path. Kudos to you, Mr. Fuckbuddy! *applause*

*sigh*

My one success story...a walk on the beach with a very nice guy in my town. But I got the distinct impression he felt no romantic ties...never really followed up afterward. It's okay--he was really nice, but I felt no tingly possibilities. He'd be a great hiking buddy if we ever continue our friendship.

It was a nice experiment, but I can't wait til it's over. The "crossing paths naturally and non-contrived" method has always worked for me...and I completely trust that. It may not happen on my timetable, but so be it.

It's been great, it's been fun...but I can't wait til it's OVER!

:)

We Will Rise Again...and again...and again

2006-04-17T01:59:00.000-04:00

Easter Sunday. The very mention of it makes my spirit soar. It conjures images of sun bursting through clouds, souls rising, death being conquered, and pure love being lavished upon humankind by its Higher Power.

When I was a practicing Catholic, Lent/Easter used to be a monumental time of renewal for me. Rather than do the whole "give something up" thing, I focused on patterns in my life I could do to make myself an even better person. Ways to take care of my body, mind and spirit. Sometimes I just do that anyway, no matter what time of year it is. Every once in awhile, there are symbolic "deaths" in our life, and then we rise again--reborn into a new aspect of ourselves, of life, of a way of thinking...the possibilities are endless.

I decided I wanted to do my C&E Catholic thing (Christmas and Easter, for those who've never heard of that) and go to Mass. I found a very contemporary parish right down the street from my apartment, that played contemporary music (digitally enhanced to make the guitarist and vocalist sound like a whole band). It was strange going back to Mass after being away from it an entire year. Some of the rituals and spiritual truths still fed my soul...but when the dogma reared its ugly head, it reminded me of just how much going back to that religion feels like a grad student stepping back into the fifth grade or something. I have embraced so many higher levels of enlightenment about what God is, about the Oneness of everyone...about manifesting our own wellbeing and desires...

But the whole meaning of Easter still grabbed me. Conquering death, rising again...they played all my favorite "rise again" songs, and songs that I hadn't heard in years...I reconnected with a part of myself that I didn't know was so deeply ingrained. It felt healing...after existing in this land so far away from my old life and my Clan.

And boy was I homesick this weekend. Melanie and I saw an ensemble of musicians jamming in a park this week--using all the familiar bluegrass instruments that my family used whenever they'd get together for a songfest on holidays/vacations etc.. I couldn't even stand next to them very long before having a total meltdown. It was the sound of "home" and family.

Being far away from my family, to whom I'm VERY close...was a huge price to pay for adventure and change. I still don't regret it, but man is it ever hard sometimes.

So, before trudging off to work on Easter Sunday (rather than kicking back and enjoy my family, as I've done for years and years) I called my mom's house where they were all gathered and asked them all say hello. It felt so soothing to my heart and soul. Their voices were like a chorale. I got to talk to a few people individually before my cell phone cut out, and it sincerely helped me get through the rest of the day.

Tonight, as I reflect on all this, I know that every new day can be a rebirth. A resurrection. I will leave you with this prayer by Marianne Williamson that I always used to use as a mantra, upon waking up.

God, thank you for this new day...it's beauty, it's light...thank you for my chance to begin again. Free me from the limitations of yesterday. Today, may I be reborn. May I be more fully a reflection of your grace and beauty. Show me the light in myself and others. Let me know deep peace, so that I may serve you more deeply. Amen.

Tomorrow I am sending ten submission packages to publishers, containing all the materials for the children's book I created with an artist. I have all the hope in the world that this book will go on to serve children, parents and teachers everywhere. If it be for the highest good of all involved, let it happen.

Namaste.

A Spring Getaway...and One of My Favorite People in the World!

2006-03-27T01:20:00.000-05:00

It was a PERFECT time for a road trip up the California coast! Spring in the golden state looks damn near like Ireland!

I took a long-awaited trip to San Francisco to see a long-lost best buddy. Mike and I go way back--to 4th and 5th grade, as a matter of fact! We were in plays together, we sung together (he played guitar), we recorded mall Soundtracks songs together...hung out and had fun. Neither of us could remember when we'd seen each other last. Probably before he flew off from Ohio to SF to go to Art Grad school. Ours is the sort of friendship that time can never change. He pulled up to my motel in his Beamer SUV, I gave him a hug, and it was like no time had passed. We were still like two peas in a pod (both Libras), we still laughed at the same stuff, and remembered all the old inside jokes. He showed me all around his fine city (hadn't been since 1987) and even joined me in a touristy trolley ride. I love that city and all its cool buildings and streets and bay windows!
I thought that I'd only have time for lunch with my dear friend, but Mike was available ALL DAY! We visited two of his favorite neighborhood bars--one a very artsy and trendy place (with yummy appetizers and VERY healthy martinis--it helps when you know the bartender!), and the other a piano bar called Martuni's where I met some of his friends.

It was a wonderful time. I feel like a bit of my youth was recaptured; it was great connecting with one of the finest men on this planet; and I was so happy he's done so well for himself.

The next day I visited another good friend and RPeep, Stuart! I got to be the first to meet his new kittycat, Lady Madonna, and was treated to a delectable gourmet feast for lunch. Stu will probably blow that off and say it wasn't all that.....but anyone who knows Stu and his professional cooking know that it WAS. This fabulous man also treated me to ice cream and gave me a keyboard, so that I can play the piano again!!!! (In the words of one of our favorite bunnies...WHOOP!) It was good to see Stu again--last time was when he was decked out in Mardis Gras beads at Reinstock.

And then...the icing on the cake. At a friend's recommendation, I visited Moonstone Beach--one of the best kept secrets of the remote Central Coast! Dramatic waves, gorgeous scenery (San Simeon was right down Hwy 1 and you could see Hearst Castle in the distance). I had a writer's getaway there...an evening walk on the beach, a tasty barbecue feast from a local diner...and then just me and my laptop in my inn.

The next morning I walked the beach again, took artsy fartsy pix,

and then traveled further on to tour Morrow Bay.

I finished the day writing in my favorite coffeehouse (with free wireless) in San Luis Obispo.

It was a great time away...a simpler sort of Spring Break suited for 39 year old writers!

I plan on doing some more writer's getaways up that way...and perhaps even Big Sur as well. I would've certainly moved straight to that area when I moved to this state, had it not been so isolated (and away from friends and people who I needed in my life as I got my start).

More Livin', Less Talkin'

2006-03-19T12:46:00.000-05:00

My post title explains my absence.

There is a lot going on in my life right now, and words just get in the way sometimes. Some of it's pleasant, some of it's not.

Outside my window, a strong wind is blowing palms and greenery and trees around. There are whitecaps on the ocean. A big front is blowing in, and it will rain tomorrow. For now, it's just windy, cool and sunny. I'm enjoying the lovely view of the sea while I have it...because my next goal is downsizing to a cheaper dwelling, so I have more money with which to enjoy my life here in California. And to travel and visit other friends...(in the PNW, BHD!) I am trying to visualize and believe in a dwelling just as nice as this one, only $400-500 cheaper. I know I will find it.

I'm once again putting off going to church. I did find a nice new-agey church here with spirit-filled people....but I have really been enjoying my laid-back Sunday mornings of solitude, writing and reflection rather than having to get ready and be somewhere. I'm always in touch with my Higher Power, so I guess I can do that anywhere.

My routine beach walks (and Salsa classes) have sadly been interrupted by an annoying case of tendinitis in the back of my knees and the side of my left ankle. I may have to visit an alternative-medicine guy a coworker recommended--but then again, a friend told me yesterday sometimes these things can be taken care of by rest, ice and stretching. We'll see...I'm trying not to give in the the belief that just because I'm getting older and I'm in a physically demanding career, that aches and pains are inevitable. I can create well-being in my body and life. Dammit.

:)

My mom's memory loss is worsening...some more. My siblings are holding yet another family meeting about getting some Visiting Angels (home care folks) to stay with her part time, while the rest of the family fills in the gaps. That way, nothing dangerous can happen to her, and she can still afford to stay in the comfort of her own home. I hope that's what works from now until she dies--cause my mom doesn't have very many attachments in this world, but she does cherish her homestead and the big, beautiful backyard outside the window. The home where I grew up. One day, though, I won't have a "home" to go back to, and that makes me sadder than words can even express.

Which brings me to the thoughts I've been pondering very heavily, of late. My continued existence in the Golden State. As long as I'm looking for a new man in my life, why not find one closer to home? Asheville, NC was my first choice of places to move--it's a huge Bodywork and Holistic capital, it's got milder weather than Ohio (and mountains!) and only a day's drive to my family.

I joined a matchmaking website, just for fun...and have created a search for the greater Asheville area, just to see...and there appears to be a healthy bunch of southern gentlemen still looking for Ms. Right. Lord knows, the California guys I email aren't responding...yet.

I do love California, though. In fact, there are many places here I wish to visit while I'm living here, which is why I have GOT to eventually find a cheaper house and some sort of massage job where it's not so GOT DAMN HARD to get time off.

And finally, my writing. I don't know what I would do without it...I am very much trying to manifest it as the principle source of abundance in my life--and according to recent astrology reports, I think the Universe says, "Sure, go for it!" An agent is still reviewing my novel, and my children's book project is nearly ready to submit.

So this if my life, at present. It seems no matter how much I stay in the moment and enjoy little pieces of life here and there...there will always be that missing piece that Jen talked about. That huge question mark hanging over my life. In the words of one of my favorite U2 songs..."I still haven't found what I'm looking for."

But I will keep walking and smiling. Because the little pieces are what keep me going.

An Angel's Brief Visit

2006-03-14T03:07:00.000-05:00

I have just now been able to stop crying--after the last 45 minutes or so.

Something on the news tonight shook me to my very core, and I don't think my heart will ever be the same.

It was a story of a precious baby boy, Austyn, from a town 90 miles north of here who lost his long battle with a rare bone disease. The entire story is here, if you have the time to read it.

But I think what hit me hardest was the smiles of purity and radiance on this precious child's face in just about every photo they took of him--despite what his poor little body was going through all those months. It was as if he was being flooded with so much love from his family and all the thousands of people in his community--that he had no choice but to radiate it back to everyone 1000-fold.

When I look at pictures of him...he seems (to me) to be an angel who visited this earth briefly to bring lots of joy and love, to unite people, and to create more awareness about this tragic disease, so that perhaps its cures can be stronger and better one day.

I have never been so utterly inspired by his family (a very close-knit, brave and loving family), and their perseverance. And taking the time to keep a live journal about their child's progress on his website.

I plan on attending the memorial when they have it (hopefully it won't be on a work night) and being there for them.

I've asked my sister if I can make a copy of a very beautiful song she wrote for another baby who died long ago...and give it to the family. I hope she says yes.

Life is so precious, my friends. Austyn may not have gotten to live much of his--but I am sure he received more love in his short time than some people have in an entire lifetime.

Namaste.

A Poem For Someone Beyond Wonderful

2006-03-05T12:48:00.000-05:00

Bits and pieces of this poem came to me as I drove down the breaktakingly beautiful Highway 101 in the last couple of months....

And this morning, the Muses showed up at my door ready to complete the entire poem. So here is a humble offering to someone we all know and love--who holds a very special place in my heart.

For Stephanie

The time has come
To write a poem for you

Words and expression flow from you daily
Evoking smiles, laughter, admiration and wonder
Using your gift to brighten the world
Has always come so naturally
Like brushing your teeth or tying your shoes

I hear your name, and I picture your lovely, wily smile
I read your words, and I can hear you speaking them in your musical voice
So much wisdom and culture and refinement in your young brain
One can’t help but believe in reincarnation…and the lives you might have lived

I think God cut you and I from the same fabric…
Yet we became two vastly different patterns and exquisitely-tailored garments
However different our lives, we feel the kindredness of our unique design
Probably the very thing that brought us together

The Playground brought many things into my life
New friends, new experiences, a romance won and lost, and travels afar
And then there was you…a sweet and sunny little sister who instantly loved me
The little sister I never got to have, full of life and vibrant love for the world

Spontaneous calls in the shopping mall, a cheerleader on my journey west
Quietly enduring your own heartaches and trying to make the best of things
Bravely repairing your asynchronous heart,
Venturing into new territory among new friends
Dancing through life with the passion and vigor of one who will only get one dance

Thank you, bright spirit, for shining your light in my corner of the world
Thank you for bringing your wit, your laughter and your infinite caring

Thank you...for being.

That Lost Feeling Again

2006-03-04T00:22:00.000-05:00

I've been recuping from a small cold virus tonight--getting lots of editing done on my novel. But thoughts keep plaguing me, and some revelation is coming about why I've felt so melancholy today.

I've been having flashbacks of the different segments of my life. Working in my classroom as a teacher (if you'd told me, five years ago, that I'd be a massage therapist in California in the next five years...I'd have thought you were nuts!)

Even life with my long-term boyfriend of about 3 years ago seems like eons ago.

I'm almost 40 years old...and every once in awhile, when I'm not staying in the blissful moment and going profoundly deep with my thinking....I wonder what the hell I'm doing here and where I'm supposed to be.

The vision of working in a holistic bodywork places seems adrift at sea and nowhere near happening...I don't want to work in a spa forever...I'm content with being a writer...but I feel very alone in the world.

How I yearned to be settled in a home with a mate by now--and every other scenario I try on feels like just that--trying on clothes that are partly what I want, mostly what I want, not even close to what I want...and never the "just right" fit.

Sometimes all the fun things I involve myself with just feel like consolation prizes. The little platic toys that one gets when you are not the birthday girl or boy.

Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful for all the blessings life has handed me this year, and I've been living very fully...but I don't feel settled. And it makes me feel sad that I may be a long way off from being settled, because this will involve the free will of another, and the direction of his life too.

I guess every now and then we experience a little human doubt or maybe impatience. No platitudes or advice are necessary, here...I am merely thinking out loud. And feeling sickly does indeed lend itself to hopelessness and despair.

Well, one thing at a time. First, I will focus on healing my body. Then my psyche.

Rockets of Desire Part I

2006-02-26T12:37:00.000-05:00

I haven't posted much because I've been out doing lots of living in the moment, experiencing, and having revelations. Now I think I'm ready to record them.

I need to tell this story backwards, though. And how it all started with an in-room massage where I work.

I was giving an in-room massage to the Mexican nanny of some resort guests. So the cozy atmosphere was already rich with generosity, love and sweetness from people who were loving and appreciating someone dear to them. There was background music coming through the TV, set on a channel that played a sort of eclectic blend of soft rock/easy listening stuff. Suddenly, the opening chords to Bryan Ferry's "Slave to Love" came on. It jarred me out of my "zone" I slip into as I'm working, and immediately the board members in my head started discussing.

Member1: Heh...there's a song we used to love when we were all Pollyanna Idealist about deep & profound romantic love.

Member2: Yeah! Songs like that sure don't mean a f-ing thing anymore, do they? It's all fluff and sunshine...and infatuation.

Member3: *quietly contemplates opening her mouth...goes for it* I still believe.

Members 1 & 2: *aghast* WHAT?

Member3: You know we want to love again. And in order to do it, we have to believe. We have to make a conscious choice to smile in the face of recent adversity and believe it's out there...and that we'll find it. So we have to believe in this song.

Member2: She has a point.

Member1: Yeah, well what man has ever felt feelings for you, like the ones in this song, and done so consistently?

Member3: None...but do you really want to walk around as this bitter person who let some unworthy mates ruin her whole life experience? Does that sound very smart?

Member2: That is pretty defeatist, dude.

Member1: Fine. You two go ahead, and I'll just hang back and watch and pretend to believe...until I really feel it again one day.

And so, at that precise moment, I chose to believe again. I began to read my new book "Ask and It Is Given" about manifesting desires. The book tells me that Source (their word for God etc..) wants nothing but your happiness, and when you ask, what you desire is on the way. But it also cautions about one's internal dialogue. It urges us not to think about all the things that didn't work, and what we don't want...lest we attract that back into our life, because we're giving it so much energy.

The book calls this "sending rockets of desire" into the universe, and to keep feeling the feelings one would feel upon getting these things. This raises vibrational levels and opens the door so things can come in.

So, the launches began. I became very clear about what I wanted, and every so often, I stated what I wanted in my head. I felt the feelings of what it's like to have them. Not just in the way of lifemates, but book publishing and living arrangements as well.

Hora de bailar

2006-02-13T14:36:00.000-05:00

So after five years of saying I wanted to do it, talking about doing it, browsing the classes in the classified section, then talking some more...then not having time to do it, then not having money to do it...I finally just did it.

Thanks to my mom's generous little Christmas gift she slipped into my purse on my way to the airport last December, I had money to take a series of salsa dance classes.

Someone recommended a cute little studio downtown where they teach all kinds of Latin & miscellaneous dances, and the teacher is not only fantastic, but quirky and hilarious, too.

To my surprise, there were more men in the class than women--and many were single, not just dragged there by an eager and insistent wife.

There's no better partner with which to learn, than a man who is a strong leader. Salsa is a complicated enough dance as it is, and the men have to do the hardest work. They have to drive. They have to hold their hand a certain way to let you know which way you'll be turning. They have to start the rhythm going, they must initiate the next steps you'll be doing together.

Go men! You all rock!

I have to say, there are really no words to describe the feeling I get when I hit that point of the steps flowing naturally. In no time, the quick-quick-slow of the salsa becomes just the music, moving my body where it wants...

It feels so thrilling to be able to follow right along with what my partner is doing, to move in perfect synch, be spun around in a complicated series of twirls and then end up eye to eye with him, hand lightly on his shoulder--and he winks and says, "Nice!"

Salsa is such a close, warm, and sensual movement...and a great chance to get all up next to strange (and mostly handsome) men in a totally appropriate and safe way.

And best of all...it's so freeing and wonderful for the body and soul.

So thank you Mom, thank you awesome male leaders in the class, and a BIG thanks to Cuba, where Salsa has most of its origins!

Something in the Air...

2006-01-31T12:56:00.000-05:00

Here is what a dear friend and teacher told me this morning:

Things are shifting, Lexie. I'm sensing a quickening coming on - something is in the air. I'm not sure if it is just me, or if you sense something too.

I think I do.

Today, it feels like a sense of order and harmony in my world...that everything is happening exactly as it's supposed to, and that great things are coming.

In the event that I don't make a post for awhile, I didn't want my last entry to be the one on top...I don't want to leave people with the impression that I'm sitting around living in the past and wallowing 24/7...I'm not at all.

Thanks for holding the energy while I waded through a layer of grief, though.

I like how another friend of mine leaves a "Today's Plan" in her blog. My plans for the week are to contact a senior citizen home to volunteer free chair massage, start salsa dance lessons, take a risk and ask a good male friend of mine if I can accompany him to his property up in the Central Coast -- just because I love that area and it would be a great distraction (and he is a good friend, which is all I can handle, at present).

So yeah....about that shift...about that something in the air...

Bring it, baby!

If You've SeenThis Movie...

2006-01-28T20:51:00.001-05:00

...then you'll know exactly where I'm coming from when I say,

"...[the Glad Game]was a silly game. I hate it!"

Indulge me in this rare moment of darkness. Sometimes it's necessary to laugh and find one's way to the light.

Restoration

2006-01-26T10:15:00.001-05:00

I dedicate this blog to all who are dealing with a "Reconstruction" in their life. For me, a good deal of my work must now be the restoration of my trust and faith.

If you do not release pain or accept it as it happens, then it will manifest later as anger, anxiety, and fear. . .Responsibility is the ability to surrender to pain as well as to pleasure. - from Deepak Chopra's 7 Spiritual Laws of Success

I talked to my guru back in Ohio. We often discuss the laws of attraction, and how they work in our lives. I sometimes need reminders about how to do this. She wasn't feeling well during our phonecall and had to cut it short, but left me a truly inspirational email this morning:

I can feel this wonderful man is out there who wants what I want and is looking for me = attraction

I know the more I think about this and feel my way into how I want to feel, the faster he is coming = attraction

I will breathe in and out and be alert so I will see him = attraction

I wish [my former love]had been more honest about how he felt = brings men who you wish would be more honest about how they feel

I want a man who is honest about his feelings = attracts a man who is honest about his feelings

Spend time thinking about and feeling how it will feel when this man connects with you. Your feelings will bring him.

I’m getting tired of this = getting tired of this. Take a deep breath and remind yourself that God is ready to bring you what you want and relax. Focus on what is in front of you, laundry, writing, your cat!

Practice is the order of the day!! I believe some amazing man is on his way to you right now!!! Maybe he is a little apprehensive or not quiet believing that he can have what he wants too. Maybe he’s not so sure you exist!

So lets pray

Thank you God for this awesome opportunity to live on this incredibly beautiful planet where all is alive with vibration and where all I have to do is state my desire and it is on its way to me! Thank you for my good health and the loving support I receive from family and loved ones. I relax and know that I can trust Love to bring my desires to fruition. I am blessed with a loving, handsome man who shares my interests and desires and we lovingly create the life of our dreams together. I release all doubt and clear the path for my ideal mate. I know that you love me and want me to have all that I desire.

Thank you God,
Amen

I am going to print this out and hang it up where I can see it every day. I need to reinforce this kind of faith (for this particular issue) because it has been seriously beaten down in the last year.

Never has this been such a huge challenge for me, but I am willing to do the work. My back is against the wall, I am completely emptied out, and I surrender.

Here's to the power of healing and the restoration of faith--for me, and for everyone else who is going through this as well.

How did it get the name "meme" anyway?

2006-01-22T05:34:00.000-05:00

Well, no one tagged me personally...*sniff* but two people opened it up to anyone, so...

Four jobs you've had:

1. Federal employee with a Top Secret Clearance (no, I can't tell you what I did, or I'll have to shoot you)

2. Elementary School Teacher.

3. Starbucks associate.

4. Textbook editor.

Four places you've lived:

1. Anderson, IN
2. Beavercreek, OH
3. Kettering, OH
4. Santa Barbara, CA

Four websites you visit daily:

1. Radio Paradise
2. Google
3. Santa Barbara Tides
4. My blog

Four television shows you love to watch:

1. Medium
2. ER
3. My Name Is Earl
4. (any that has a good movie)

Four of your favorite foods:

1. Prime Rib (with all the fixins)
2. Chinese Food
3. Sushi
4. Most Italian dishes with a good red wine

Four albums you can't live without (at least for the moment):

I can't, even for the moment, narrow this down. I just CAN'T!
1.
2.
3.
4.

Four places you'd rather be:

1. In the arms of my lifemate
2. Big Sur
3. Tuscany
4. Scotland

Four people to tag for this meme:

Everyone who hasn't been tagged--and who wants to participate! :)

Taking Stock in the Little Gifts

2006-01-09T02:12:00.001-05:00

My drive home from work tonight was brightened by one little song (Dare, by Gorillaz) on the radio. It has a neo-disco groove, and even though most would consider it pop crap--I like it, and car-danced to it.

Before that, my entire evening was brightened by a heart-to-heart talk with a younger coworker over our dinner break and ensuing two hours of no appointments. I am grateful for the fact that I can totally be myself with an awesome bunch of fellow bodyworkers--the reward of being in my new career. Down to earth and real people.

The night before, I got to have "girl night" with my newly adopted big sister...who eased me through another layer of my healing and forgiveness work I've been doing--over delicious pizza and milkshakes. How I've waited to have a close buddy like that in town--since all my others live back in Ohio.

The afternoon before, I enjoyed a very meditative and therapeutic two-hour massage by a gifted and beautiful young man whom I work with--he chose not to watch the clock because he wanted to just be an artist and let intuition tell him what to do. It was a trade and I felt very lucky to have someone like him as a trading partner with very little money coming in right now--I can only hope his massage is half as good on Tuesday when I take my turn as provider.

The same afternoon I gave a massage to a very appreciative woman (and mother of a five year old) who was on a weekend getaway with her husband. She said it was the best one she's ever had. She also had on pikake perfume (which I'm going to get soon) that made me feel like I was doing massage in Hawaii. Heavenly!

This morning, the minister at my church gave a lesson about starting the year with a "new heart." The cover on the bulletin for today's services was of a woods in nearby Gaviota, with new greenery and blossoms growing on scorched trees and ground after the fire there in 2004. "The earth never stayed angry about what happened to it and refused to grow any longer. Instead, it just started anew...and although the woods will never be the same woods it was before the fire...it will be the woods everyone still looks for." The analogy to my own life right now was priceless. I've started over many times with a new heart--why not once more. I know it won't happen all at once, but as long as I'm willing...

My cat has been falling asleep curled up next to my face with her forepaws on my shoulder. I go to sleep to a lullaby of warm purring in my ear. This helps me not dwell on/despair over the fact that I've been sleeping alone for a long, long time. For now, she's all I've got and it's okay.

This week, I will have a very first face-to-face meeting with a dear friend who has--until this week--been a voice of comfort/kindredness on the phone and in long, expressive emails. He already feels like some "bonus" big brother I never asked for but got anyway. It will surely brighten the week.

Sometimes it's the little things that make up one big beautiful whole. This is life that happens while I'm busy making other plans. And I'm truly grateful.

The Power of Thoughts

2006-01-05T14:43:00.001-05:00

Happy 2006!! I sincerely wish all the best for each and every once of us.

I can't believe it's almost been a whole year since I went to a workshop by one of my honored Zen teachers/authors, Cheri Huber. The last thing she said to me before I left was *wink* "See you in California."

There is a tool I've learned from her teachings, that I often get off the shelf to help acquire a miracle. It is the tool of realizing that a mere thought in my head is what's causing suffering. It can be not there one second, there the next, or not there in another. What I do with the thought is key.

Yesterday, I was angrier than I've ever been in a long, long time. As I cooked dinner, I seethed and wanted to break something. Then the phone rang. It was the yoga teacher from Sycamore Springs, returning my call!

Sycamore Springs is my spiritual getaway up in SLO-town (Avila Beach). I took her class when I went to a day-away there last October, and saw her advertisement for "Full Moon Yoga" that she holds there once a month. It involves aquatic yoga in a mineral springs pool/waterfall and regular yoga in their retreat center--all beneath the full moon. I was finally able to make the January class, and she gave me the details.

This woman (very spiritual, very laid back and very intuitive) told me, "You are very sweet and I look forward to seeing you." Thoughts spun in my head. How I'd like to work with her. Sycamore Springs is expanding their retreat center, and is the exact sort of place I've been looking for to do massage and other bodywork. In a more rural, peaceful, non-commercial and spiritual environment. She feels like an instrumental person up and coming in my life. We shall see.

When I hung up, there was no anger. No seething. Just a feeling of peace and exuberance.

In just one minute, the thought causing me pain was gone, because I chose to let it go.

Amazing.

Reality took over next day, and I did indeed stew some more, because I chose to pick the thought back up again. I don't think it'll rest until I've communicated to the person what I need communicate. But I will let my Higher Power guide me to the right time and place to do that.

In the meantime, if I remember to stay right here and now, all is well.

Namaste, baby.

A Different Kind of Christmas Present!

2005-12-30T01:26:00.000-05:00

So my visit home to Ohio for the holiday was wonderful.

I got a pedicure with my mom, I saw my friend's new baby boy, I got a massage from my sister, toured Cincinnati stuff with yet another sister, met up with best friends and other friends, saw practically my entire family on Christmas, sung with them, ate lots of crap, and even made it to a yoga class with my favorite yoga teacher.

Now back to that "friend's new baby boy." His name is Zephyr, and he has wide blue eyes and dark hair just like his dad. He's pretty big and hearty for a 5 month old, and sooo mellow. But he was having issues when I visited. Apparently, when mommy started him on solids (baby food) his little system couldn't handle them, and the poor thing hadn't "moved" in a week. She'd tried everything possible to make it happen, but no go.

"Hand him over," I told her. "I'll give him an abdominal massage."

And so, with a bottle of Burts Bees oil, I massaged his little belly just as they'd taught us in massage school, to therapeutically aid the digestive system. Then we snapped up his onesies (he was wearing two since it was winter) and went on with our best friend talk.

In another half hour, Zephie started grunting and grimacing. My friend looked down with round eyes. "Did you hear that? I think he's pooping!"

Sure enough, the kid pooped. Ohmigod did he poop! I've never seen a mother so overjoyed that her baby pooped out the diaper and down the legs (I know, I know...TMI! But I'll bet you moms can appreciate the importance of this feat). She held him up and cried, "Yaaaaay! I owe you big time, girl!"

"Hey," I shrugged. "Merry Christmas."

LOL

That was such a hilarious highpoint of my Christmas visit, and made for a good story wherever I went. I helped a baby poop!

But seriously....remember how I was worried that I'd miss my family and wouldn't want to come back?

Well, once I got home and was heading up the 101...I was surprised to find that it felt more like home here than it did back in Ohio. And boy was I ever happy to get back to the green, temperate climate.

I guess I've finally settled!

I've had other introspective thoughts, but I'll put them in another entry on another day. Gotta go back to work tomorrow...I hope my hands/wrists/arms hold out!

Waves!

2005-12-20T20:23:00.000-05:00

Now THIS is the ocean I've been waiting patiently for, for the past six monthes!!!

Huge swells rolled into the Santa Barbara coastline today, and the surfers were out in force. Rod tells me tomorrow will bring the biggest. "Double overhead" is what they are called.

After work, I nearly ran down to the shore...and things had changed. Big time. For one thing, I smelled the ocean a lot stronger--and when I got to the bottom of The Thousand Steps (which are really about 100), there was a HUGE drop-off to the....rocks? Wait a minute. Had I lost my mind? Was I in a true alternate Universe? Didn't there used to be SAND at the bottom of these steps, only one foot down?

Luckily, a man was coming down the steps with his dog. I asked him about it and he told me, "Oh yeah, it's winter. We've lost about 3 feet of sand. You'll find lots of rocks and fossils in the winter."

Wow. I had no idea the depth of the beach would change! I am still such a "beginner" when it comes to living by the sea.

As I walked along the beach, the energy & sound of the bigger and stronger surf was raw...almost sexual. I felt invigorated in the same way. I watched the black silhouettes of surfers in wetsuits floating on the water...they waited during the peaceful lulls, then suddenly waves would arise out of nowhere--stark and silver against the periwinkle horizon. Then a surfer would appear on the crest...some rode long, long stretches before coming to a graceful close--others toppled over into the white foam as their wave crashed.

I wished I had both the means and the guts to learn this awesome sport....to be one with that ocean...but something tells me I'd be very guarded. Especially of my hands, which are now my livelihood. On second thought, I could be perfectly happy watching them from the shore!

The timing of the ocean's rambunctiousness couldn't have been more perfect. I've been thinking about my visit home...wondering if, once back among my clan and the people I grew up with, I wouldn't want to come back. But after this evening, I remembered the other lover I came out here to be close to...the Pacific.

I think about how cold and hollow last winter was--cringing against the bitter winds and having no one to go home to and cozy in with--and I know that I will be very content returning to spend winter in a warm, beautiful land.

A Wealth of Sunsets

2005-12-10T19:18:00.006-05:00

I feel rich!

Just about every day I come home to a glorious sunset--every day it's a different design, with different blends of colors and cloud formations. But it's always peaceful and lovely.

It's times like that when I just quiet the part of my mind that constantly worries about scarcity, and rent that is too high, and finding a more affordable place.

For now, everything is as it's supposed to be and all is well.

An Occupational Hazard

2005-11-28T01:25:00.001-05:00

I'm a bodyworker, and it is one of the most fulfilling careers I've had to date. I enjoy assisting people back into their quiet place of center, I enjoy helping make their aches, pains and stiffness go away...I enjoy how vibrant and happy they look as they walk away from my massage table.

But every once in awhile, there is a certain...shall we say...challenge we therapists come up against. When we find a particular client attractive! It happens all the time--and everything's cool as long as one never acts on it during the therapist-client relationship. I've known some to date a client after they break their professional relationship and make it a personal one. But unless that happens, there are strict rules--which I honor and respect.

So the attractive client thing--it's happened to me twice in the last week!

The first one was a little spiritual affirmation from the Universe. A very handsome man (only one year older than myself) with merry brown eyes and an easygoing nature was my client. He was so healthy and together both mentally and spiritually (we had the greatest talk in 50 minutes I've ever had with a stranger)--someone I could actually fall for. Someone who'd be a GREAT match for me at this point in my life. (He's from upstate and has a girlfriend, so not really possible) But I was so grateful I got this man for a client, because for the first time in a year, I felt like I could actually love someone again.

The second was a John Wesley Harding look and sound-alike! For those who don't know JWH, he is a folk-rock singer from England...VERY dashing and handsome...and with a voice that I absolutely love. This man, too, was very amiable and happy and charming--a nice family man visiting from the east with his wife & kids.

When attractive clients are on my table, I very carefully put up a "safety wall" and concentrate on my work--I try not to look at their face (especially their lips) or focus on their recumbent position...for fear of my work getting a little too nurturing. So far, so good.

Anyway...here's the lesson learned. After a year of refusing to look, flirt, envision new love or even CARE...this is all very healing. Very healing indeed.

Thoughts On a November Night

2005-11-26T00:28:00.000-05:00

It's the day after Thanksgiving, 2005. I've been doing lots of reflecting in the past week. Life is vastly different these days...than it's ever been before.

Thanksgiving was usually brisk and chilly all my life in the Midwest. Thanksgiving was having my mom's house (or a nearby sibling's house) jammed with family members laughing, talking, joking, having musical jam sessions, singing...and eating. I'm pretty sure this was the first Thanksgiving I wasn't there doing all that with them, living so far away.

Thanks to my two dearest friends in my new city, who I feel very blessed and fortunate to have in my life, I got to have a small, cozy dinner with them. We all contributed toward the cooking, and afterward we watched Mad Hot Ballroom--a documentary about New York City gradeschoolers (wise beyond their years) learning ballroom dancing in their inner city schools, then taking it all the way to a citywide competition. It was an amazing film and gave me hope in America's youth.

Today I walked to the beach after work and was greeted by a pounding, invigorating surf kicked up by high winds. The sun set as I stood on a high rock and felt the wind rush over me and tousle my hair. I sung a few songs to the ocean, in return for its rejuvenation and power and beauty. I love how empty the beach is, sometimes...just me, the waves and my Higher Power. After existing in the moment for a long while, I walked back up to my little apartment on the Mesa.

This was a good, good day. Because lately I've been questioning my purpose for moving across the country. Wondering, "Okay, exactly WHY did I move here again?" The answers--the true reasons--have yet to reveal themselves. I need to draw from the well of Patience now more than ever in my life. And I've been to that well more times than I care to speak of. Truth be told, I'm a little tired of that fracking well.

But I have a lot to be grateful for, in this season of gratitude. For a lovely little apartment, for the current abundance in my life that enables me to live in it, and reside in one of the most beautiful cities in our country, for the new friends I'm making, for the milestones I'm reaching in my writing career, for my health, for the satisfaction of helping so many people feel more relaxed and healthy, for the love of friends and family, near and far, for being a strong woman who's survived many heartaches and hardships, for the ability to love unconditionally and with all my heart, and to let myself be loved, for all the spiritual tools I've been given to cope and thrive in this beautiful world and crazy life...and for the grace that comes from seemingly nowhere--just when I need it most.

My Guys In Every Corner

2005-11-05T02:37:00.000-05:00

At the start of November, there is a dear friend I always think about named John. In the mid-90s, he was my bestest buddy, and we were both hardcore U2 fans. We both agreed that after the first of November, once the time change hit and the trees grew more bare, and the sky was cold and gray--it was always the perfect time to play The Unforgettable Fire. At the time, John was struggling with the direction of his career and was stuck in a 2-year holding pattern in my city--and his friendship was invaluable to me. I learned so much from him about how to be "intimate platonic friends." Today, he has a PhD and teaches in Toronto. He still has not found the woman of his dreams.

Thinking of John always makes me remember the other crucial men in my life who were never lovers.

Russ came into my life when I desperately needed to quit growing up so fast. I did life ass-backward by working a Federal job before going to college. I was thrown into an office full of "responsible" older people and totally skipped over my wild, partying college years. Russ was a southern gentleman from North Carolina, and one of the most chivalrous and friendly men I'd ever met. He initiated outings to do fun things. He liked to hike in the great outdoors. He taught me how to let my hair down and get a little crazy. When I did develop a crush on him, (unrequited) he was very gracious anyway and never got all weird about it. He really wanted to remain my friend. He was in the Air Force, so of course he moved on...but today he is a civilian marine biologist back in his home state...seems very happy with his new career...and as far as I know, still unmarried.

Vance was the little brother I never had. He was the kid brother-in-law of the lead guitarist in the rock band I sung with. But he was wise beyond his years, hilarious, mischievous, and bold. I found him utterly fascinating and he never ceased to amaze me with the things he accomplished (teaching himself stand-up bass for one) and his self assuredness for a guy his age. When Vance grew up, he asked me to his Prom. I was too embarrased to go because I was 24--but looking back, I should have. One day, Vance decided he was going to go make it big as a bass player in Austin, Texas--capitol of Live Music. Sure enough, he did. I talked to Dave Alvin's guitar player...and he knew Vance! I talked to Vance for 2 hours on the phone last year--he's very happy and would like to find the right woman to settle down with soon...but laughingly said, "That really doesn't go well with the rock and roll lifestyle, though."

Mike was the boy every mother wanted their daughter to marry. Handsome, polite, funny, and talented. We hung out on and off through junior high/high school. He helped me notate the very first song I wrote (a Christmas song), and was my biggest cheerleader in the process. We sung and played music together, and recorded Soundtracks songs at the mall. We kept in touch after he went off to grad school in San Francisco and began to design shows for Flag and Rifle Corps. All his ventures have been a success and he's very happy. He welcomed me to California in a recent email, and wants me to come visit him soon.

John in the North, Russ in the East, Vance in the South, and Mike in the West. They scattered from my life like pool balls, landing in every corner. They had more affect on my life and growth as a woman than they will ever know. The fact that they still remain single is also very soothing to me. I was lucky to know them, and I love them still.

To my guys in every corner! *raises a toast*

Oh, and feel free to comment again--those other requests were just for those particular entries!

Involuntary Walkabout

2005-10-12T01:57:00.000-04:00

Prologue: A walkabout is an Australian Aboriginal term for a spiritual journey of seeking clarity and vision—much like the Native American Vision Quest, only one does not sit still in a circle. They are turned loose in the hot, arid Outback to wander, meditate and come to their edge…and ultimately discover something.

It was purely an accident.

I was simply scouting out a hiking trail and possible hot springs for my birthday hike this coming weekend, but got way more than I ever bargained for. Up the hills, down the hills, through eucalyptus woods and across lush creeks…that part was wonderful. But the trail book I used neglected to describe certain conditions—like extremely steep and strenuous switchbacks that went on and on and on up a mountain. After an hour went by, I became increasingly exhausted.

When I finally reached the area of the hot springs, I discovered that the creek was on private property (the second time this happened within a week of looking for public hot springs). The book had also neglected to mention that, too. A nice man running by informed me that people still went past the gate to the springs anyway—and that I would find the trail down to the creek just up the hill.

Well, “just up the hill” yielded nothing but more dusty switchbacks on a dirt road. Who knew how long they would continue before the alleged trail. At that point, I was too tired to gamble with it. My legs were already numb and on auto-pilot. I would have to abandon my hot springs idea and settle for just a nice hike with my friends on Saturday.

The lovely trail book also suggested taking the “Saddle Rock” trail as a loop back to the original starting point, instead of backtracking. Hoping it would be easier than the original trail, I started up it—and it was the steepest, rockiest, dustiest trail of them all! Straight-up pitches, bend after bend. Then, just when I’d see nothing but blue sky and an apparent top of the trail, it went around a corner and pitched upward again. And again.

I was definitely coming to an edge. I was cussing like a sailor, I was on the brink of tears, I had no water with me (my stupid fault), and then negative thoughts about all my woes began to spew out of my pent-up mind. What the hell am I doing in this dry, dusty place? I miss my lush hills and woods of Ohio…I miss a true autumn...and my family…where the hell does my lifemate REALLY live, anyway…and why has it taken over half of my life to find him? How long will I have to keep waiting? I thought to myself, “I’m on a walkabout, here. Unplanned and involuntary.”

I sat down on a rock and buried my weary head in my hands. I couldn’t go another step. After catching my breath and reassuring myself that I could make it perhaps just one more switchback…I stumbled to my feet and practically crawled up the last pitch.

It ended atop a flat plateau with....a giant heart??

Yes, some local Chumash Indians had held some sort of ceremony there, and rocks were lined up in the outline of a giant heart. It was a very spiritual moment, as if the Universe were singing CSN’s “Carry on…love is coming. Love is coming to us all.”

I turned and squinted against the sun at the expansive view of the surrounding mountains, valleys, and misty ocean in the distance.

It was a moment of quiet, deep beauty. Awful as the journey was, I was supposed to be there at that moment in time.

As I doggedly made my way back down the mountain, still not feeling completely at peace, it was as if Mother Nature offered up one final emotional laxative. Around a bend in the trail, in between two scrubby bushes, sat a small, brown, adorable bunny. She looked at me with her big, brown bunny eyes and wriggled her nose. She didn’t even look afraid…I think it was her assignment. I hadn’t seen a bunny since living at my mother’s house back in May…it was like a heart connection to home.

It started with a few sobs, and then the dam broke. I’ve needed to cry for a long, long time and had to keep putting it on hold in order to stay grounded in my job of peaceful bodywork. Today was the day of letting go.

Just in time for a milestone day of another year turning over in my life.

The Family Steak-Out

2005-10-09T11:10:00.000-04:00

Today my family is having their annual "Steak-Out." It's something that began long before I was born--because my dad had an affinity for cold-weather cookouts and would set aside a special day in fall to do just that. The family resumed the tradition in the mid-70s--usually opting to meet at a state park, so no one would have to be responsible for the clean-up in their home afterward.

Today is the first Steak-Out I will miss because I live 4000 miles away now. I still sometimes can't believe I ripped myself away from them...a large, close-knit family with every get-together being full of love, laughter, great food and memorable times. This week in particular was especially bad with the homesickness, because of the steak-out and my upcoming birthday...and just because I needed to be held by someone familiar...and related.

Just quiet observations and remembrances going on inside me...I am not in crisis, so there is no need to make comments of consolation/advice or anything like that...

Oh yeah--and today John Lennon would've been 65. Wow. So, in celebration, let me end with one of the most hopeful and inspirational lyrics he ever gave me...

Love is real, real is love,
Love is feeling, feeling love,
Love is wanting to be loved.
Love is touch, touch is love,
Love is reaching, reaching love,
Love is asking to be loved.
Love is you,
You and me,
Love is knowing,
We can be.
Love is free, free is love,
Love is living, living love,
Love is needing to be loved.

2005-10-05T03:59:00.001-04:00

Is It Any Wonder?
(The Jaguar Theory)

“See I’ve already waited too long…and all my hope is gone.” - The Smiths

Preface: I think the reason I am hesitant to blog these days is because ever since attending Al-Anon meetings back in the day, I am used to being able to share something very personal, then have everyone simply say, "Thanks Lexie" and refrain from any advice-giving or crosstalk. Sometimes when I post things and see responses full of advice or cliches etc..it makes me wish I never posted it. Sometimes I just need to get my feelings out and be exactly where I am and just receive compassion, not instruction or projection as to what lies ahead in my life. Does that make sense? Anyway...here goes...

I am caught between two worlds.

I would very much like to meet the man who wishes to share his life with me…the man who will be my best friend and lover, my husband, my Beloved. I realize this can only happen if I truly want it to happen and let it. But I don’t think my beacon is flashing right now, and if it is—it’s not flashing very brightly.

I have finally gotten to the point of letting go of the last love in my life, but I sense that my heart is extremely guarded. Oh, it still gives and gives to friends, coworkers, clients, and dearly missed family members…but the part reserved for a Beloved is closed up tight behind more steel doors than Maxwell Smart had to walk through to get to work.

I’m like the smoker who says, “I can quit any time. I just don’t want to.” I feel I can heal anytime, as long as I surrender and be willing, but I can’t seem to conjure willingness. It seems I’ve lost my enthusiasm for the search. I am very reluctant to trust a man beyond the initial “ga-ga over Lexie” phase.

Let’s examine a few approximate quotes here, shall we? (Most of the real ones have long since been destroyed)

“You were the best teacher of all. You taught me more than I could ever hope for about my own ability to love. You have made me stronger. Through you, I experienced God.”
- First Serious Boyfriend, after our breakup, in retrospect. [A very angry, verbally abusive man—thank God I had the sense to leave…]

“I have never experienced such unconditional love from anyone before. It’s like the song New York, New York…if I can’t make it here [with you] I can’t make it anywhere. It’s time to be more open, more honest…and work toward a future with you.”

- Second Serious Boyfriend, before getting back together for the third time, then waffling another few months before leaving me for good. Total investment = 3 years.

“What was going through my mind when I saw that lovely picture of you was, ‘what was her former boyfriend thinking, walking away from her? Fool!’” [Three months later, he walked away too]

And finally, the golden one…

Me: “If you did commit to someone one day—would I be the person you’d want to commit to?”
Recent "mistake": “Of course!”

Is it any wonder I don’t feel like trusting?

Let me tell you…I’m tired of doing charity cases. I’m tired of being the teacher. I’m tired of being the inspiration. I want to walk as someone’s equal, as we both make one another’s lives more expansive and bright.

Everyone’s always telling me how special I am. Too special, apparently. I am like the shiny, expensive Jaguar that a guy drools over in the show room, then dares to take out on a test drive. They love the car! They love how it looks, how it handles, they might even envision themselves driving it off into the sunset…for all of three blocks or so, then panic sets in. Wait, they gasp. What was I thinking? I can’t afford this kind of car! I can't afford the insurance. And what if another year/make/model comes along that's better? God, I’ve got to get this back to the dealer NOW! And back I go, for the next guy to come ogle me and have a temporary fantasy that he would like to drive me away for good.

My best friend and I have studied a particular spiritual teacher who advocates the law of attraction and the “raising of vibrational levels” to attract things into your life that you desire. Every once in awhile I muster the strength to imagine what it feels like to be sleeping beside my beloved. To have him gazing across the car at me as we drive contentedly down the road, and taking my hand tenderly in his. To greet our guests that come to visit us in our cozy home. But I can’t do this very often without it feeling like I’m just going through the motions. I cannot bring myself to trust in this…not yet. I can’t even picture what kind of man he will be or what he will look like. I don’t dare to dream anymore.

I also don’t want to use this as a crutch forever—because that will only leave me stuck in this unhappy place for a long, long time. So, every day, I pray for healing. That’s all I can think to do at this point. I am not a “dater” and don’t want to just go on casual dates with this guy or that one. It is hard for me to do something as simple as share dinner with someone who I don’t even feel any chemistry for. It’s just who I am, and I don’t judge it. I’d rather stay home with my cat then just “try someone on for size.” (I don’t mean that sexually, either)

All I wanted for Christmas was a bicycle. But my cosmic Mom and Dad keep giving me Barbies, Play-doh, an Etch-a-Sketch and a Lite-Bright. They are wonderful presents, don't get me wrong--and I'm very grateful for them. But all I wanted was a bicycle.

For now, I’d just like to believe in my own inner strength to get me through this…until the willingness returns. And it will return. One day.

Thanks for listening.
Namaste!

Autumn!

2005-09-29T11:24:00.000-04:00

Everybody's got their own good reason
Why their favorite season is their favorite season
- Echo and the Bunnymen

First of all, I have to say that I was honored someone actually requested, with a very big please, to make a post in my blog. I guess I am just not a regular blogger--in fact, I've been trying to cut back the amount of time I spend online. RP is enough! Also, I've been spending a lot of time going inward--and not really feeling like expressing myself publicly.

Okay, having said all that--this is a snapshot of my life at present.

It's AUTUMN!!!! Whoop! (.25 to Sean) Autumn has always been my favorite season---the clear skies, the crisp air, the glorious colors....and my birthday. Right smack in the heart of it all. I was worried that it wouldn't be the same living in California--but you know what? The change of seasons is still evident, in its own way. For awhile, it was getting cooler, and certain trees actually had leaves that turned red. The air is clear and I can see the Channel Islands every day. But now...I think the Santa Anas are here (or something like them). There was hot, dry wind blowing around yesterday. Two days before that, there was all this dramatic mist hovering down at the beach. I took a walk through it, feeling it caress my face and skin....seeing the sun shimmer just behind it, and having the beach all to myself to walk and sing along with the handpicked songs on the iPod shuffle that I won last spring.....talk about bliss! Ohmigod.

My job has been very fulfilling. I am a massage therapist at a "World Class Resort and Spa" and have had so many interesting clients from all over the place. It may not be as special and intimate as having your own regulars in a private practice--but I do connect with these people and still get the same joy from helping them go back into their bodies and into that quiet place of center, then sending them on their blissful, more vibrant and more relaxed way.I am also making the most money I've ever made at any one job (in my life)!

Unfortunately, it comes with a pricetag. This spa overworks their staff--in not spacing out appointments with time to rest up for the next one. My hands/tendons have been fatiguing a little too much. At first I was freaked out, feeling that I was like a racehorse, who could easily be replaced once she breaks down. But I'm beginning to do all the necessary things to protect myself--I ordered a "stretch for your health" DVD that my sister (another LMT) swears by, that helps people who do repetitive motion work. I do little stretches in between clients (waiting for them to step out of the room). I get regular massage myself, and I'm even considering scaling back my days to 4 instead of 5. This will all work out, as long as I'm careful.

But my eyes are still fixed on the goal of ending up in a very spiritual retreat-type place such as Esalen or Harbin. There is one very close to here, called Sycamore Springs. It has yoga, meditation, a labyrinth and a nice peaceful unhurried spa. I would love to work there.

My vision for moving out here was to be at a more holistic and spiritual place like that. Where I am now will be a good thing on a resume for when that dream comes true. In the meantime, Sycamore Springs is having a "stay for a day" special, and my birthday is coming up. I am thinking about going there and treating myself to it on my weekdays off.

I continue to enjoy the mountain trails, the waterfalls I can splash in, the walks to the beach, and the fit & healthy feeling they leave me with.

My writing is moving along again--rewriting a first chapter of my novel I'm submitting to agents (Writers Market 2006 has been ordered!), I'm up to about 80 pages on my new one, and have a "secret" children's book project underway! I have high hopes for that one.

I am still hit with occasional bouts of homesickness, and feelings of "my god, what am I doing here? why did I MOVE?" but they are normal, and they pass once I embrace them.

I'm getting increasingly dissatisfied with my single life--but that change will happen when it's time. I don't want to force anything and I don't want my libido to start calling the shots, either. In the meantime, I've been making smalltalk with men (who I sit by in cafes or meet on the beach) again, and engaging in minor flirtation....it's a good babystep for me, since my heart is still very much guarded from past experiences.

So--have I more than made up for lost time? I hope so!

Namaste!
~Lexie

The "Sarah" Medicine

2005-07-21T23:58:00.000-04:00

Tonight as I fixed dinner, I listened to Sarah McLachlan's very first CD "Touch." I bought it back in 1988, when she was relatively unknown (unless you listened to college or indie radio), and her voice was so high and pure and sweet and youthful.

One thing that always amazed me was how deep she could be at aged 19, and how much pain she had faced by that tender age.

I listened to it for the entire summer of 1989, when I weathered the first "you just want to curl up and die" heartbreaks of my life.

Tonight, my heart is in some incredible pain, and so I retrieved the Sarah Medicine...there are songs on that CD in which her voice reaches down into my chest and gently strokes that heart. And it needs it, believe me. There are so many ways in which it can love and be loved and give and be joyous....and it has...but in the area of romantic love, the vault door is locked up tight. I don't know where the key went.

A good friend told me once, "soothe yourself and the world soothes around you." So let the soothing continue...

My Kaleidoscope Life

2005-07-16T11:54:00.000-04:00

I used to be the kind of person who needed order and routine and a good firm foundation under me in order to function. So when I had my regular 8-5 jobs, a house, a network of friends and family from which to draw love, comfort and support, and the occasional long-term relationship as icing on the cake......all was good. All was well. I was free to go out, explore, try new things, but come back to familiar. The most important thing in my life was my relationships with people I love.

It seems like in the last decade, my life has been like a turning kaleidoscope. Nothing has EVER stayed the same for more than a couple of years at a time. I changed careers three times...two long-term relationships ended, and now I have completely moved myself to a new environment without the network of support I so relied on.

I feel like I'm on an emotional Vision Quest of sorts. I feel something deep inside growing even stronger and wiser as a result of toughing it out on my own. This past week was incredibly hard, emotionally, with several upsetting things going on. And there was no mom to run to...no sister's warm loving arms to hug, no best friend down the street to cuddle up with on her couch and have tea....I was walking the beach feeling lost and afraid. But stronger at the same time. Even calling people didn't bring complete solace--because I was craving physical closeness of loved ones.

There is a reason for this journey (and inner journey), and I know it's a good one.

I am not making enough money to live on yet--which still worries me--so I have given myself some peace of mind by deciding to take a little from an IRA account. (Yes, I know I'll pay penalties-blah blah blah but I simply do NOT want to borrow money, because it will be years until I can repay it. ) So....with much hope and faith, I just look forward to making enough money in July-August to pay the next round of bills.

Also, something I've always felt about myself that still holds true, because it is a core part of who I am, is that although I am independent and can function on my own...and feel my life is complete...the most important thing to me is finding a mate to walk through the rest of life with. I am "mate" material, through and through. I have visions of being this man's best friend and he mine...and doing our own respective things, and doing things together. Supporting each other's endeavors, sharing a home, kissing each other goodnight. Showing affection, laughing together, and being passionate lovers. Even after years go by...

I see us growing old together either in the mountains or by the sea (or both), and having lots of friends that come and go in our home...who we love and who love us....

And I see peace in our lives. Peace that we've earned.

Does this sound familiar, BHD? I hope you don't mind me saying it, but your relationship with Hobbitt was a great role model for me. I mean that from the bottom of my heart. I think it was the main reason I was called to visit you over New Years...almost like God saying, "That is what you deserve. Take notes...and learn."

Until this happens in my life, I'll continue to walk in grace and slowly develop within...the part of myself that will attract it right to me like a beautiful magnet. And then there will be TWO lovely kaleidoscopes turning side by side.

Namaste.

Dances With Dolphins

2005-07-07T00:16:00.000-04:00

I was taking an evening walk on the beach yesterday...it had been a particularly rough day mentally, as no work came in (again) and I panicked about money and survival in my new town.

A call came earlier from my sister (just as I hit my rock bottom), and she talked me back to my peaceful center and into a more hopeful place.

But the ocean was the icing on the cake that day--because I always draw strength from its awesome beauty and power. And that particular evening, I was given SUCH a huge gift.

It's no secret that the Channel Islands are teeming with dolphins, but every time I look out from the shore and catch a glimpse of a shiny gray dorsal fin, I get so excited. And there they were, right when I got to the shore--but wait! Were there....??...wow! About seven, lolling and arcing and circling one another. After another few minutes, more and more dolphins came to the party--I counted at least a dozen. Some skitted across the water like Flipper used to--others arced through the air and crossed midway...a bunch put their little bottle-noses together in a circle...still others did leapfrog or a waltz with one another. They were dancing. They were like a dolphin version of the June Taylor Dancers. Or Olympic Synchronized Swimming. I have never seen anything so lovely (in the ocean) in all my life. And I'd like to think the timing was sacred...that God/the Universe knew I needed that kind of beauty just then.

As if that wasn't good enough, I suddenly saw a black labrador dog's head surface. Hmmm...I didn't remember seeing a dog go running for a stick. I turned to look down the beach, and there were no dog owners anywhere in sight. I stood alone. I looked back in wonder....it was a seal! Looking right at me. If he'd raised a flipper and waved, I wouldn't have been surprised. I felt more enchanted in that moment than Snow White!

They had all come to visit me, to reassure me that I was in the right place--exactly where I'm supposed to be.

"Dolphin is the keeper of sacred breath of life, and teaches us how to release emotions through...breath..."

- Jamie Sams, Medicine Cards

According to certain Native American animal lore, dolphin comes to you to remind you to breathe, to pace yourself, to connect with the Divine and bring answers to your own questions.

The answer I got was...give it time to blossom. And don't be afraid.

I thought about answering a Help Wanted ad at a local drugstore...*sigh*...even though it would be nice to give 100% of myself to building my business.

Today I made lots of great contacts and networking associates...and am hoping it yields lots of opportunity!

Namaste. I honor the light in you all.

Okay...I'm The Kind of Woman Who...

2005-06-30T16:55:00.000-04:00

Since a couple of my friends have "tagged" me to do this, and I've kept them waiting for a whole week--I finally decided to sit down, make like Nike and just do it.

This was hard for me, because I guess I just never think of myself in the third person, and keep mental lists about me--I just go out there and BE me. I figure, it's others who think "she's the kind of woman who..." not me. But enough talk. Let's do this...

I'm The Kind of Woman Who...

1. Was most likely put on this earth to love--above all else.

2. Treasures people and relationships (friends and family alike) more than anything in the world.

3. Gets blissed out by music.

4. Is always eager to learn more.

5. Can withstand and survive drastic changes in her life.

6. Loves like Niagara Falls...and stands by her man--focusing on the light in him (sometimes to a fault).

7. Likes a lot of affection, touch, and to be cherished by her man.

8. Loves to explore new cities, geographical areas and nature spots.

9. Feels the presence of God in nature, music, and in the actions and words of people WAY more than in a church.

10. Likes to dress up and celebrate her femininity.

11. Loves to grab life with both hands and truly live...passionately.

12. Tries to practice acceptance as much as possible.

13. Trusts her intuition way more than she ever did before--because it's gotten sharper.

14. Likes to have a vodka martini or nice glass of wine while cooking!

15. Loves the euphoria of physical exercise and staying fit and healthy.

16. Loves the warm feeling of watching someone enjoy something nice you've done for them, said to them, or given them.

17. Loves creativity--be it writing, singing, organizing, or drawing.

Well, that's all I can come up with for now...thanks for reading!

My New Home

2005-06-10T23:03:00.000-04:00

I've had a lot of time on my hands this week. Time I wish were being spent working and bringing in money. But I've started the wheels going, made some contacts, and will have to keep at it until I'm an established massage therapist here.

In the meantime, I'm mustering up all the patience I have left in me, and trying to just be patient and breathe and delight in my new surroundings.Here are some treasures I've found along the way...
~ Cute ground squirrels that live on the cliff by the ocean, that frolic and kiss each other and forage and play hide n seek in the thick ground cover. What a life!
~ A gorgeous stretch of rocky beach within a good hiking distance from my apartment. I've been going there a lot, and can feel my body getting stronger and healthier than ever. The ocean has always been very sacred and powerful in my life...now here it is in my backyard. For that, I am glowing with gratitude!
~ A downtown full of lovely views, cafes, ethnic restaurants, shops, libraries, friendly people, and the promise of free music in parks, farmers markets, gatherings, and community!
~ Dolphins that pop out of the waves every so often, their little fins and arched backs glistening in the sun
~ A refreshing sea breeze that blows constantly, right through my apartment on a hillside
~ A perfect climate...hot sun, cool air, mostly sunny....
~ Lizards! Yes! There's something I NEVER saw back home...(I love it when they go scampering away at my approach)
~ A wonderful spa that is interested in having me work for them--with wonderful feng shui and aromatherapy in the air
~ Beautiful, Italian-looking mountains keeping watch over me, named after (all of people) my Italian grandfather, Rafael!
~ A tiny neighborhood with everything I need right within walking distance!
~ A weathered old fisherman on the pier who looked my way and secretly told his young nephew/son, "A beautiful fish!" *blush*

I alternately feel a sense of accomplishment and bliss at beginning such a new, bright and exciting life...and fear of not being able to make rent/bills as I get off to a slow start (income wise). But I keep assuring myself that everything will work out. How could it not?And if it doesn't, I guess I could always live with all the other homeless people down by the library--they are the healthiest looking homeless people I've ever seen, and seem happy. (Not trying to be a smartass...they really do)It is so early in this new chapter of my life. The promise of what is yet to come makes butterflies dance in my stomach.I guess that's all for now. I should start reading some other blogs tonight...Ciao!

6/9/2005
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Wireless Cafe...Modern Day Oasis
Lexie
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Wireless Cafe...Modern Day Oasis

2005-06-09T18:16:00.000-04:00

Welcome to my very first blog post! Here I am in one of the coolest cafes in my new town (And I'd like to thank my own personal geezus for the quote).

I only opened an account here to post responses to friends' blogs, but a half hour later, looks like I've got another cyber "black hole" to look out for!

:)

Anyway, here I am.