If Not Now, When?

When will we make decisions for the better of the greater good?  When will we step back from our stubborn and fantastic belief in our notion of freedom and realize how we are being held hostage by our own self-centered demands.

Are we so caught up in ourselves that we cannot sacrifice when the risk to the greater good is at stake?

I do not refer just to guns.  I ask about healthcare, about care for returning military with PTS, about assessing our well-being through social programs, prayer, meditation, schools, work, church, the grocery store.  I ask about opening our eyes and slowing down long enough to notice.

We must be the advocates of those struggling.  We must take care of our children and preserve their innocence, curiosity and their dreams.

Our job on this earth is not working alone.  Despite our own troubles, our job is to reach out, to act, think and speak on behalf of the greater good.  When we all show up for work, no one will be left for dead.

Saturday Bliss

Last month's question of "For what are you grateful?" is still on the front burner.  As there are generally two front burners, this month's question, "What brings you joy?" is right beside it.

It's a classic December Saturday: a little late sleep in,

sunshine and occasional clouds, brisk air, possibility of some snow but not looking like it, nothing on the must-do agenda, spending lots of time outdoors with the animals, a friendly visit from April, anticipating the arrival of Jacqueline next week and then Laurie and Lucas the following, and just doing what strikes my fancy.

And that is my joy!   



Joy to the World.

New Strategy

Unpacking is just a big fat time waster in my book.  I don't seem to find the fun in it.  I find it akin to emptying the dishwasher or folding laundry.

My method, which has been working just great for me, is to take out the plates and glasses as I need them.  Then the dishwasher got full.  That required a washing, which led back to that unpleasant task of emptying the dishwasher  So, I resumed my one-at-a-time unpacking.  I like this!

Then I got news that Jacqueline was coming for a visit.  And the day after she leaves, my sister Laurie and Lucas are coming.  Well, that put a hitch in my exaggerated emptying of boxes.  A new strategy was implemented.

I shall take this moment to brag that I have unpacked all but one box in the kitchen: the box of tupper.  Where do you store that stuff?

Maybe They Aren't All Supposed to Go With You

Those were some harsh words to hear when Eileen Lock, a clairvoyant astrologer, said them to me during a reading.  "Such nonsense!" I replied.

We were talking about my then impending move to a new home.  I was thinking through the move of all of my animals, including my feral cats.

During the week of my move, I set out the trap in hopes of catching Graysin and Lynxie, my two cats who live in the hay shed.  Lynxie just stopped coming for breakfast and dinner--at least not when I was there.  And we had just got to the point of my being able to pet him and scratch his ears.

So one balmy fall night, I was sitting below Graysin as she looked down on me from her grass perch.  We were just talking.  Easy going cat and human conversation.  She was relaxed, calm and interested.  Then I asked her, "Graysin, do you want to come live with me in my new home?"  Her response was unmistakable.  A categorical no.  I almost felt embarrassed to have asked her such a question.

After catching the neighbor bully cat, Jorge caught Graysin and confusing her with the neighbor bully cat, released her.  Then another cat, one I have never seen before checked in to the cat hotel.  Another catch and release.

Just as I was thinking I would disassemble the crate I had set up, Jorge called me to say he had another cat.  This time, he checked the right ear to see that it had been tipped by Bend Spay and Neuter when I brought him in for a feral fixing.  And Rayito arrived.

I was so happy to see him.  I had held him twice when he was a baby because he had fallen out of the eaves where Momma Twin kept her little ones safe.  As he grew, he would come out whenever I was feeding.  He was so intrigued by the goats.  As they browsed, he would follow them.  Unlike the other cats, he was half white, so I would catch his feline movements out of the corner of my eye.  When I called his name, he would stop and sit.

Rayito was here for four days.  It was almost immediately apparent that he did not belong here.  I thought bringing him here and taking care of him was in his best interest; I would keep him safe.  It didn't feel right.  Rayito would be safer and happier back on his 40 acres where he grew up, where his mother and brother, uncle and grandmother live.  Safer where he had established hiding places from nocturnal predators and the chase of the dogs.  He would be safer where he was confident.  I accepted on Saturday that this is not Rayito's home.

Today, he went back to his stomping grounds.  I wished him well, expressed my apologies for the misjudgment on my part, and sent him off with a piece of my heart.  That was probably the hardest thing I've done recently.  I may never see him or my other kitties again.  As sad as that is, I accept that maybe Eileen was right.

Three of Pentacles

Walking to the barn tonight, I inhaled deeply.  My chest expanded, bursting with the crisp autumn night air.  Accompanied by Bodie, I relaxed my shoulders, slowed my gait, extended my clenched digits, and breathed in again.  Rather than scan the horizon, I scanned the night sky.

There is a noticeable shift in energy on the ranch.  A heavy, sad presence has lifted.  The air is swirling in a different direction now.

High above our heads, the stars and planets are alive and dancing.  The Milky Way, unobscured by the long-standing smoke of the Pole Creek fire, dashes across the ebon canvas.  The Pleiades have reappeared, calling to mind a Native American story of the Seven Sisters.

Such peace.  Such beauty.  The possibilities are infinite.

This morning I drew the Three of Pentacles.

Pages In The Journey

Charley Miller and me, Swinging with the Stars 2012

People's Choice and Dameon Award winners

Free of injury, illness and obstacles.  Thank you Universe.  Thank you Ganesh.

Thank you to all who supported us during these past few months.  Thank you to all who were able to come to the show.  Thank you for the emails and messages last night and today.  Thank you Charley, my friend.

With entire sincerity, I can tell you how proud I am of this moment.  Charley is the most respectful, punctual, dedicated, and protective partner.  He made this win happen.  There is no feigning modesty here.

We were paired at a time when staying present was impossible for me.  My plate was spilling over.  Adding just one pea more had me on the brink.  And when that pea was counting on me to make room on my plate, I resented it.  Couldn't this morsel understand that the only space I had was beside my plate?

I went back and forth on my decision to participate in the competition this year.  At the time I said yes, it made sense.  A few things shifted and suddenly I found myself in a position I was not capable of handling to the best of my abilities.

And so life's journey goes.  It is said that when we are ready for the lesson, the teacher appears.

Once I settled the inner conflict and restated to myself my decision to be Charley's partner, I then had to develop my strategy.  How was I going to do this when my brain was overtaxed and my heart was closed for business?

All the while as the chatter of my inside voices got louder and louder, I would meet Charley twice a week to practice.  He was there, ready, willing, vulnerable and extremely devoted to the commitment he made to the charity and to his supporters.

In a rare moment, when the voices drowned each other out into a silence, I saw this. 

I sought refuge in my yoga room, under a soothing dim light, enveloped in rich Indian incense, grounded on my mat, calling on my Angels, Spirit Guides, Masters and Gurus for guidance, for clarity, for confidence.  I reached out to family and friends and divulged my fears.  I listened to Pema Chodron over and over grasping at the concept of Shenpa.

I embraced an empowering daily affirmation.  I repeated one of my favorite mantras, "I choose love." 

The fog began to lift.  My path illumined.  My trust in my journey reinforced.  Numbers started to appear. 

With each practice, Charley's steadiness demanded I reach deep down inside and pull out what I knew I had.  He deserved that.

Over the months that we met to develop a routine that was fitting to both of us, my plate was clearing.  It didn't get bigger.  It tilted.  The things that no longer served my highest good slipped right off into oblivion.  The more it tilted, the more space I had for that pea to jump on, roll around in comfort, unrestricted by what was. 

When we are allowed space, when we give ourselves and each other space, extraordinary things happen.

Without Charley and our time together, I very well might be sitting with a plate on the verge of cracking under the weight of impediments.  Charley won the Mirrorball trophy he so deserved and I won another stepping stone in this enthralling journey. 

Let It Rain

Rain.

May your moisture hydrate our desert-parched skin.

May your drops multiply to blanket our fires.

May your puddles seep to the roots of our trees.

Thank you for hearing our call.

Shall we dance again?