A Friend’s Visit

At the beginning of January, one of my forever best friends came from Oregon to Southern California to visit his mom, who is ill and may be preparing to transition. The distance makes it hard to be as available as he’d like to be, but he’s wonderful about keeping communication flowing with his dad and brothers and family. I pray for his mother and the family, that they all be blessed with grace and peace during this sacred time.

This friend, Paul, is a deeply spiritual soul, connected to earth, the elements and Divine in a wonderful way. I treasure his friendship and I treasure the easy way we can talk with one another. We’ve been friends for over 35 years and spent much of our 20s seeing each other nearly every day, forming a very close bond with our small group of friends. When we’re young and still forming, those deep friendships we make during that time became part of our formation. Who I am is partly due to his and our other friends’ influence. We all vacationed together, celebrated together, grew together, shared a whole lot of time and laughter together. It was an amazing time we shared!

During his visit, Paul couch-surfed a couple of nights at my place. It was wonderful to have him here! Since he’s like family, it felt very comfortable to just let him do whatever he needed to do while I went to yoga, church and to my company holiday party. (I did feel kind of bad, though, that I was in the midst of a bad fibro flare, hurting pretty badly.)

Paul is an artist, too, and teacher. He’s studied shamanism extensively and creates beautiful smudge fans, rattles and other instruments to use in ceremony. (You can see some of his original handcrafted work at his website: www.crowingcreations.com. He also takes custom orders.)

While he was here, he had his stuff neatly set aside out of the way, except for a silver box that sat on the island. I didn’t want to be nosy, so I never peeked in the box, until the 2nd day when he asked me if I’d opened it yet. It was a gift for me! So exciting! He’s always amazingly thoughtful with his gifts; previously I’ve received a turtle rattle, owl feathers, sage, a mix CD, hawk feathers and other thoughtful, caring gifts. I opened the box and pulled back the red cloth inside. Paul had made a CD for me and had brought me a DVD (The Big Kahuna). But I especially loved these gifts: an abalone shell to be used for smudging, various sages, sweet grass and resin incenses. He also made an amazing smudge fan! It has owl feathers, peacock feathers, leathers and amethyst stones. Amethyst is my birthstone (February) and amethyst is also known as a healing crystal, which was great, too, since I was in pain. It’s a piece that I will treasure all my llife!

His work as an artist is just so amazing; Paul puts in so much detail, energy, love and blessing into every piece he does. I’m hugely honored with these gifts. The fan is sitting on a shelf in my living space where I can enjoy it and think of our friendship. Love you, Paul!

The feathers are so beautiful.  

The end of the handle holds another large piece of amethyst surrounded by smaller stones.

Gramma’s Home Again

Saturday was All Souls Day. Saturday was the day that Gramma’s body died and she was released from her earthly bonds to return home again, just as she’s been wanting to for awhile. She was born on October 3, 1915, so at 98 years old, she has an awful lot of family and friends who were already there ready to greet her with open arms, loving kisses and cheers of joy.

I imagine there were a few “hallelujahs!” and amens in the mix, too. Gramma loved to go to a nearby Baptist church where the sermons were passionate and the congregation filled with joyful hallelujahs. When she couldn’t drive any longer, she had to switch to another church that she could walk to. She told me that it was nice but, leaning in conspiratorially, that it “wan’t as nice as the other one. They’re much quieter.” She preferred her church to be loud and boisterous!

Elizabeth Sears was a tiny little thing, with a head of red hair and sparkling blue eyes. She had a flirty, fun way about her; a twinkly, happy, we’re-all-gonna-have-a-great-time kind of way. If you met her, you loved her. She was utterly and profoundly irresistible. For the last two months as she was in hospice care at home, her neighbors all visited and asked about her. Everyone loved “Mrs. Sears.”

She was a farm girl and darned proud of it, too. She grew up in Kansas and had that hardy Midwestern attitude, never complaining but just moving through life’s challenges as they came up. If problems came up, she didn’t waste time on complaints; she simply worked on a solution.

When I visited the last few years, we’d have coffee and talk. She had such wonderful stories to share about her life, about being married four times, about leaving her first husband and taking her two daughters to California to make a new life. Gramma worked during the war as a “Rosie the Riveter.” She was very proud to be able to buy her house and said that she was finally home and would never leave it. She never did.
 
Her storytelling is legendary in the family. She was always smiling as she shared her memories. Gramma’s entire being would light up and she’d chuckle delightedly about funny little things that happened. I loved that part, her lighting up with delight. Her delight was utterly infectious and you found yourself drawn into her smile and personality and that light that she radiated, glowing with happiness around her, an aura of colorful vibrancy.

The last few years, when we’d talk, she’d tell me that she’d lived a very good, long life and she would be happy to go home to God any time. She’d tilt her head and shrug her shoulders and say that she didn’t know why God kept her here, but she’d smile and say that it’s up to Him and she was fine with that. Another time when I visited, she pulled down the neck of her turtleneck and showed me her neck, saying how she just didn’t like the wrinkles that she had there now. Then she simply pulled up her turtleneck again and kept on telling her stories. Another time, she showed me how her fingers on her right hand had curled due to arthritis, making it hard to grasp her garden clippers. Gramma told me that she found that she could uncurl them just enough with her other hand to put the clippers in her right hand and once she had them in her hand, she could clip away! She just never wasted any time feeling disappointed in anything in life.

I could tell Gramma stories all day. I loved her beyond and beyond. She was actually my ex-husband’s Gramma, but I loved her the instant I met her and she loved me. When my husband and I had our daughter Amber and made her a great-grandmother, she gained a new nickname: Great G. After I divorced, nothing changed between her and I; we were still family to one another. We corresponded, I visited, she always always sent gifts to my daughter (her great-granddaughter) for holidays and birthdays, I sent her pics of Amber growing up through the years. When my daughter had her daughters, I told her we had to go visit Great G so they could all meet since Great G was now a great-great grandmother.

And now Great G is dancing in heaven, just as she’s been wanting. I’m so happy for her joy and for the reward of heaven for her. I’m happy to have had her in my life and look forward to being reunited once again when I’m called home, too. I expect she’ll greet me with a hearty “hallelujah!” I love you, Gramma!

Our infinite, divine nature

I hope you’ll indulge me another post regarding my journey through this 21-day meditation challenge (https://chopracentermeditation.com). This is from yesterday’s meditation:

In today’s meditation we will reflect on the beautiful truth that we are already whole. We were created by universal intelligence as a complete expression of love, wisdom, and happiness. If we feel like something is missing, it is because we are seeing through the eyes of our ego-mind, which has a limited perspective of our infinite, divine nature. 

With the realization that we already have everything we need and desire, we give up the exhausting search to find that person or situation or achievement to make us feel whole. We stop waiting for someone to complete us and open to the love that is right here, right now, in our own heart.  And, from that boundless well of spirit, we are free to share the deepest experience of love with the people in our lives.

Do you fully believe that we are already whole, that in our truest essence nothing is missing, nothing is wrong or in need or in need of fixing? Do you believe that you are a complete expression of love, wisdom and happiness? Through years of study, practice and learning, I do believe these things … most of the time. I believe in my wholeness and trust that I am loved as I am, unconditionally. I feel that my truest essence is love and that we are all interconnected at our truest essence, the Divine within.

Ah, but the ego-mind does sort of get in the way and say “Wait! You have to live in the ‘real’ world. Everything just isn’t hunky dory in the real world. People get sick, people suffer, the world is polluted. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows.” But is that the “real” world? Some think it’s just an illusion and our real world is the Love within us. The ego has its uses, but it doesn’t trust, it is suspicious, it is cautious and careful. How often have we worried and been anxious about something, only to have everything turn out well in the end, and usually not just well but better than expected? After a few times of being in a similar situation, we start to trust with our inner being: “Yes, I’ve been here before and it turned out well. I trust it will be well again.” That’s growth, that’s learning, that’s remembering the lessons we are given.

In today’s meditation, one phrase really stood out to me. It expresses our oneness, our reliance on all parts of the whole being well and expresses the Love within. It’s something that I can practice asking in my heart in my encounters with others:

How can I contribute to your peace and well-being?

Namaste

Remember that you are Love

A couple of my friends have messaged me on Facebook, concerned since I haven’t been posting. That was really nice and they were so understanding of my needing a break. It’s gotten easier with each day to not comment or post. I feel that I’m much more in control of what I’m consuming and being more selective.

Before this break, I was a glutton, consuming anything and everything that popped up on my page; when I was done with that, I’d go to the ticker and start consuming there, too. Shameful to admit, but true. I’d click a link to an article or video and start reading or watching, usually mindlessly until something in my head clicked and I realized that I wasn’t really interested in the content (too negative, too snarky, not an interest of mine, I didn’t know or care about the people in the post, etc.). I’ve always been this way about consuming content. I’ve always read magazines and catalogs from cover to cover, not flipping around through the pages, like others do. My brothers and I were constantly reading, whether it was the cereal box at breakfast, books under the covers with a flashlight at night, signs, posters, album liner notes, newspapers – if it had words, we were reading it.

This FB break coupled with the 21-day meditation challenge has helped me to acknowledge my gluttonous tendencies and has helped me to determine to be more selective. The themes of each day in the challenge have been very insightful, especially as I journal afterward.

A few days ago, the mantra of the day was “I see through the eyes of my soul.” To paraphrase, it focused on seeing everything through the eyes of love and seeing that we are all connected at the soul level, expressions of the Divine, who is Love. The ego easily gets caught up in the struggle for control and approval and the need to be right. But when we relate through eyes of love and with a heart of love, we experience the expansion of love, joy, compassion, and harmony.

Isn’t that beautiful to think of in that way? Instead of being aggressive or snarky or judgmental of one another, we can choose in each moment to see through the eyes of our souls, our souls that are divinely connected to one another and to all that is. Our bodies are temporary vessels only; our soul is where we should be living and remembering who we truly are. Namaste.

Celebrating Mom and family

Today marks 23 years since my Mom separated from her body here. She was always a big, happy, fun presence, full of laughter, ready with a joke, always ready to move her feet and dance. As you can see in these pics, she was a beauty, too. It was super cold and windy when I went to the cemetery this morning to bring flowers and polish her headstone until it shone. I really love having a quiet,beautiful, special place where I can focus my thoughts and prayers on her without distraction. There are two vases; I always use the 2nd one because Dad used to use the first one and even though he doesn’t go there any longer, I still pull out both vases so the 1st one can still be pulled out. I fill the vase with water at the spigot, wet a rag for cleaning, trim the flower bouquet I brought (roses, ranunculus – really pretty today) and arrange it in the vase. Kneeling on a towel, I go to work on the headstone, clearing leaves, cleaning the stone, spraying it with marble/granite cleaner, wiping it and then buffing with a soft cloth for a high shine. All the while, I’m talking to Mom, feeling her presence, just the two of us, loving one another as always. I put my hands together in prayer and pray. Then I bend forward, kiss her name on the headstone and make the Sign of the Cross on her name.

  

I love the pic of mom on her wedding day. So young and beautiful and all that lace – wow! She visited Disneyland when it opened; we’ve figured she was probably pregnant with my brother Steve in this pic. In the 3rd pic are my cousins Rosie and Carmen (on the ends), with me and Mom.

   
1st pic: Tio Lolo; 2nd pic: Shelly S. (2nd cousin), Ruben O., me, Rosie A.(little girl in pic above), Gloria O.S.

Yesterday, I visited my Oropeza cousins in Oxnard to celebrate my Tio Lolo’s 83rd birthday.(Oropeza is Mom’s maiden name.) Tio Lolo is Mom’s youngest brother; she was next to the youngest in birth order in the Oropeza family of 10 children. They were all always very close and we grew up visiting at various tios’ homes nearly every weekend, all the cousins playing and growing up together. Family was the most important thing and our bond to one another was tight, almost like brothers and sisters. Being with cousins yesterday (and 2nd cousins and 3rd cousins) made me feel even closer to Mom. Being with them is like being with Mom: teasing, laughing, loving, talking endlessly, wanting more time together and not wanting to leave. Thank you, Mom, for our family, for my wonderful brothers and all of my beautiful, loving, crazy-fun extended family. I miss you but I see you alive still in all of us. I love you, Mom!

Kindness and acceptance–without labels

When Sally Ride passed away last year, I remember reading a headline announcing that she had confirmed that she was gay shortly before her passing. Recently, there was a big to-do about Jody Foster at some awards show. (Sorry, I don’t watch them so I’m not sure which it was.)

I wish we were evolved enough as a civilization that we didn’t keep labeling people unnecessarily, whether by color, gender, race, sexual identity, handicap … whatever. Sure, there are times when a description is helpful, such as describing a bad guy: “He was about 6’, with jeans, gray shirt, ruddy skin tone and shaggy hair.” But we use labels when they aren’t necessary, such as the Sally Ride announcement. It seems that if she announced her preference, then, for equality’s sake, every other astronaut should announce theirs, too. Or imagine every entertainer, director, writer, etc., at awards shows going on stage and announcing their religion, race, preference, etc. Every time I hear the term “black president,” I cringe. He’s the American president of the American people, period. Let’s not separate him with a label. (Besides, he’s actually half-white and half-black, as if that makes any difference, either. He could just as easily be labeled a white president or bi-racial president; I don’t know why people label him as a black president … or use any label at all.)

All those labels don’t really matter. Does the person do a good job at what they do? Do they treat others well? Are they kind and thoughtful? These things matter, not the amount of pigment in their skin or who they love. (Love is a beautiful thing and should be celebrated.) I cringe when I read a news report where skin color is mentioned when it’s not relevant to the story. I cringed when an acquaintance wrote about her granddaughter being hassled by a schoolmate … and she felt compelled to mention his skin color.

If society pressures anyone to announce anything that labels and separates them, then they should require it of all. Can you imagine me introducing myself to you as a Spanish/French/German/Apache Catholic with Zen Buddhist leanings, some spinal issues that make movement difficult, blah, blah, blah? If you’re telling your story and including background information, that’s one thing, but for society to want people to make announcements … well, I sure do hope we evolve beyond that at some point and understand how irrelevant it really is.

I’ve felt very strongly about this for so many years, that I find that I often don’t notice the things that separate us. I try to look at who the person is—their Divine within—and I sometimes fail to note their physical appearance. Does Marsha have light skin? Are John’s eyes round or slanted? I fail to note these sometimes. Don’t know and don’t care, unless we’re talking about cultural issues that are pertinent to a discussion.

Buddhist teachings encourage us to observe, but not judge. Let us all simply be kind and accepting of one another. Let’s drop the unnecessary labels and just celebrate our shared oneness.

How quickly things change …

A couple of months ago, I was thinking about how nice and quiet my life is, no drama or Big Events, just a contented, happy life. Things can change so quickly, though, and so dramatically. In the last two months:

• I left my job
• My dad’s wife passed away
• My daughter was in the hospital for tests related to her lupus
• Dad’s dog had to be put down
• A good friend/neighbor passed away

Worst of all, my dad is no longer speaking to his family.
When Dad’s late wife was in the hospital, my brother and I spent time with him each day there; my brother usually took him in the morning and then I went in the evening to sit with him and then take him home. In spite of the circumstances, it was wonderful to be with my Dad again and listen to his stories, talk with him, share conversation and jokes.
After my mom passed away in 1990, we spent a lot of time with Dad, but after he remarried 16 years ago, that changed. We’d invite him and his wife to get together and were told they already had plans with her family. We’d invite them to holiday gatherings; at first, they’d come for an hour or so, then leave to spend the afternoon and evening with her family. One Christmas, we pulled up to my brother and sister-in-law’s home just as Dad and his wife were leaving so we had to give them their Christmas presents through the car window, with the car engine running and his wife telling us to hurry. Eventually, they just stopped coming to our family’s holiday gatherings so they could spend the time with her family instead. It was sad for us and we missed our Dad tremendously, but there wasn’t much we could do.
(Eight years ago, my Dad and his wife became legal guardians of three of her grandchildren, who have been living with them. Two of them, an adult grandson and a minor granddaughter, still live with him. He’s no longer legal guardian of either. I’m very proud of my dad to have stepped up to help raise his wife’s grandchildren, even though he was already in his 70s at the time.)
When Dad’s late wife passed away in May, my brother and I spent each day with Dad, helping him with finding bills and other paperwork, getting things organized so he could handle things more easily. (Dad’s had some strokes and suffers from memory loss at times.) We also wanted to be sure the home was safe and healthy for Dad. It was a mess (a lot of hoarding): paper piles everywhere, medicines and medical equipment in multiples of multiples, multiple kitchen appliances, boxes of food on the floor, a lot of things on the floor, actually, instead of put away.
And the kitchen – when Dad and I checked the produce drawer, there was rotten, blackened, moldy food filling the drawer, with rotten tomatoes that had gone to liquid in the bottom. A container of flan had an inch of mold growing on it. The freezer was completely stuffed with freezer-burned food. You get the picture. Not a safe place for a man with memory loss. He could’ve eaten the rotten food or mistakenly taken the wrong medicine.
My brother and I worked at cleaning up the kitchen and the bills, etc. for over a month. We took him on errands, getting prescriptions, making appointments, having lunch, taking him grocery shopping for foods he wanted. We started looking at services who could come in to cook and clean for him. We had a wonderful time finally being able to be with Dad, gathering his stories as we worked together to have a safe kitchen area for him. Kitchen surfaces were greasy and dusty; we knocked down cobwebs from corners and walls. As we cleaned, I’d ask Dad “Do you want to keep this?” If he did, I’d say “OK, let’s wash it and honor it and display it nicely.”
I took him to my cousin’s retirement/birthday party one Saturday and he had a wonderful time seeing family he hadn’t seen in many years. He accepted our invitation to attend my granddaughter’s/his great-granddaughter’s birthday party on 6/16 and we made plans to go to the pier for breakfast on Father’s Day 6/17. He also accepted my daughter’s/his granddaughter’s invitation to join the family at an Angel game and he was looking forward to all of these.
On Friday, June 15, I brought a family album with me for Dad to enjoy. He asked my brother to please make copies for him because “I don’t have any pictures of my family in the house.”
One of the appointments we took him to a couple of weeks before was to see his trust attorney, who reviewed the trust with him. When Dad reviewed it, he protested and told the attorney that he wanted changes made to it, including giving my brother Power of Attorney and  making sure that his children and granddaughter were included in the trust. (Dad’s original trust was changed in 2009, after he’d had his strokes and memory loss. The previous trusts for each of them provided that his wife’s family received her estate and Dad’s family received his, including the home that he and Mom had bought and paid off. The 2009 trust gave everything to the three grandchildren, which Dad said he wasn’t aware of.) The attorney suggested that Dad think about the changes he wanted made and to come back to make all the changes at once. My brother later prepared a list of Dad’s wishes so Dad could review and make certain of what he wanted changed.
So on Friday, June 15, everything was wonderful with Dad and I again confirmed I’d pick up him at 1 for his great-granddaughter’s birthday party the next day. On Saturday, I went to pick him up; no answer. I called the house; no answer. I called his wife’s family members; no answer. I went to the neighbor’s house and she didn’t know where he was, either, but was finally able to contact another of his wife’s family who said that Dad was safe, but wouldn’t share where he was. The next day was Father’s Day and my brother planned to pick him up; called the house; no answer. On Monday, he came to pick up Dad for his doctor appointment; again, no answer.
I was extremely worried about him by this time. We hadn’t heard from him for three days and didn’t know if he was OK or missing or what. I called the police, who met me there. Dad was OK, but the grandson and granddaughter were yelling at me and saying that they didn’t have to answer our calls about my Dad, that we never visited Dad (they probably didn’t know their grandmother always had other plans so we couldn’t) and that Dad didn’t want to talk to us. I left in tears.
And so it’s been like that ever since. We thought we could finally have Dad back in our lives and after two months of joy with him, we’ve been robbed of that again. My daughter took Father’s Day gifts to him two days later and although he came to the door (his late wife’s family was there), he didn’t let her in or give her a hug or kiss. My daughter and my dad used to be like two peas in a pod, super close and loving; as a kid, she accompanied him everywhere; after Mom passed and we’d visit Dad, she and he would snuggle closely together, her little head tucked under his arms wrapped around her, watching TV.
I don’t know how my Dad is doing. I wake early each morning, praying for his well-being and for a safe home for him to live in, with . I send him loving thoughts through my prayers. I miss him and am broken-hearted that no one has a kind heart to let us know how he is. Our primary concern is for our Dad’s well-being, that the home is clean, that he’s eating good food, with no rotten food or things on the floor he could trip on. I know that deep down, my Dad still loves his family, each and every one of us. I pray that we can gather together again some day and share our family’s love again.

Life Celebrations

Life cycles through so many phases: birth, childhood, teen years, adulthood, the wisdom years of ageing and finally our bodies die when we’re done with them. In all of this, there are celebrations of the transitions we experience throughout life: baptisms, birthdays, weddings, funerals, recovery from illnesses, new babies, graduations.

This past weekend, we celebrated the life of my son-in-law’s father, Bruce, whose body died a couple of weeks ago. Bruce was a good man who taught us a gentler way of living, how to accept life as it is, to be at peace, to “go with the flow.” He was a surfer as a young man, so my son-in-law, friends and family went to the beach Saturday morning and several of the guys had a paddle-out, tossing leis and flowers into the ocean then whacking the water and chanting “Bruce! Bruce! Bruce!” We had a wonderful celebration at the house afterward with a slide show of photos, music, a beautiful scrapbook that a cousin made with some help from my granddaughters who love their grandpa so much. It was a beautiful day and a beautiful celebration of a good man. He will be missed and he will continue to be celebrated.

On Sunday, we celebrated my uncle’s 82nd birthday in grand style with family, friends, food and my uncle sitting there enjoying it all. I love going up to see him, with that mischievous sparkle in his eyes and that ready smile. He has a large family and large extended family and it was wonderful to see so many gathered to honor and celebrate my uncle. I learned that it was Feb. 13, 1951, when he was just 21 years old, that he was wounded in the Korean War, ultimately losing a leg. My uncle has always been our hero, supporting a family of nine, working in the community, in the church, always the first to help a friend, always ready with a teasing joke and his happy smile that makes everything in the world better. I love him beyond beyond. And beyond that.

And today, we commemorate the day that Mom’s body died and we celebrate the amazing life she lived. Like her brother (my uncle), she was always a bright light in every gathering, always dancing, singing, telling a fun story, keeping everyone happy. She was an amazing mother, encouraging our dreams and hopes as kids, ever-supportive of all our activities (“You don’t need to join every club in school”, she’d tell me), teaching us to be considerate of others, to volunteer, to give back, to be of help; to learn and grow, study hard and work hard. She inspired my love of dance, taking me to ballet lessons, sewing my costumes. When I grew up, I loved when just the two of us would sit at the kitchen table, talking over coffee. It’s been 22 years since I’ve sat with her at that table, yet we still talk, I still feel her loving presence, she still finds ways to teach me, to love me, to let me know she is still with me. Love doesn’t need a body.
I love you, Mom.

Our Divine nature

"How do we allow God into our minds, bodies, relationships, and life? We stop squeezing the divine out through our preconceived notions of what is sacred and what is profane. When we assume the mind-set that everything is ultimately divine, though sometimes more disguised than others, then we can see that all of our thoughts, impulses, and desires arise from and can bring us back to awareness of the sacred." ~David Simon

“… your essential nature is pure consciousness. Beyond the disguises of ego-mind and the physical body, you are pure awareness, pure joy and pure potentiality.” – Deepak Chopra

When we drop away the ego and the physical, we realize that our essence—all of us—is a Divine nature, and the Divine doesn’t have a physical body. We inhabit our physical vessel for such a brief period of time and yet, some people spend far too much time noting the differences between our bodies instead of the sameness of our souls.

You don't have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body.
~ C. S. Lewis

We are not our bodies. When our mortal vessels can no longer live and we are released from our body, we will no longer have gender. We will no longer have skin color. We will no longer have sexual differences. We will no longer have handicaps or illnesses.

All these require a physical body and without a body, we then fully and completely realize Truth: in our essence, we are the same.

change …

 

You must be the change you want to see in the world.

~ Mahatma Gandhi

When I become a more peaceful person,
I add more peace to the world.

When I become a more understanding person,
I add more understanding to the world.

When I become a more loving person,
I add more love to the world.

I cannot change the entire world,
but I can change the space that I occupy in it
by changing my self.

The world is more peaceful,
more understanding,
more loving
when I create more peace, understanding and love in me.

Namaste

For Dickie

I recently read To Bless the Space Between Us, a book of blessings by one of my favorite authors, John O’Donohue. He has this way of capturing the depths of a soul, the vulnerability, the inner doubts in the midst of certainty. I wanted to share his poem On Grief in honor of my cousin, Richard Oropeza, Jr., who we loved as Dickie. Maybe you’ll resonate with some of the sentiment he expresses. It’s beautiful, honest and says the things we often feel when a loved one’s body dies:

"No one knows what has been taken from you ...
Gradually, you will learn acquaintance
With the invisible form of your departed ... "       

I believe that we do learn acquaintance again with our loved ones whose bodies have died, a new way of loving them while we remain temporarily in physical form. This acquaintance is such a beautiful and loving gift.

A body is temporary. We are not.

I love you, Cousin Dickie. You have left your footprints on our hearts and we are forever changed.

For Grief

When you lose someone you love,
Your life becomes strange,
The ground beneath you gets fragile,
Your thoughts make your eyes unsure,
And some dead echo drags your voice down
Where words have no confidence.

Your heart has grown heavy with loss;
And though this loss has wounded others too,
No one knows what has been taken from you
When the silence of absence deepens.

Flickers of guilt kindle regret
For all that was left unsaid or undone.

There are days when you wake up happy;
Again inside the fullness of life,
Until the moment breaks
And you are thrown back
Onto the black tide of loss.

Days when you have your heart back,
You are able to function well
Until in the middle of work or encounter,
Suddenly with no warning,
You are ambushed by grief.

It becomes hard to trust yourself.
All you can depend on now is that
Sorrow will remain faithful to itself.
More than you, it knows its way
And will find the right time
To pull and pull the rope of grief
Until that coiled hill of tears
Has reduced to its last drop.

Gradually, you will learn acquaintance
With the invisible form of your departed;
And when the work of grief is done,
The wound of loss will heal
And you will have learned
To wean your eyes
From that gap in the air
And be able to enter the hearth
In your soul where your loved one
Has awaited your return
All the time.

~ John O’Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us

Child dance …

“What inspires you?”, my friend Sandra posted on Facebook. Oh! So many things, my friend! The smell of fresh air, of ocean air: fresh, summery, full, vibrant, with a tinge of citrus around the edges. And the green of the trees outside my window, where the squirrels chase one another up and down and across the limbs and tiny hummingbirds come to visit and peek in my bedroom window. Wide, open horizons stretching out to forever. Watching the sun setting over the ocean, painting the sky in pinks and purples, a giant orb slowly descending toward the water, slowly, slowly, then—flash!—and it’s gone.

Everything made by the Divine inspires me: a budding flower, a tumbling waterfall, the ocean breeze lifting my hair and tossing tendrils across my eyes, a playful puppy with too-big paws, the waves as they move in and out, never ending, calming, rhythmic.

All these inspire me. What I think I find most inspirational of all, though, are children. Their honest, plain-spoken truth of exactly what they know. Unfiltered, unedited, untarnished by others’ thoughts and opinions. Trusting absolutely. Confident and beautiful. Children already know everything they need to know. They laugh and play. They fall down and get back up and run again and again. Free, unfettered. Whee! One child asks another “Do you want to be my friend?” and they join hands and run off to the swings together, with nothing more in common with one another than their mere presence on the playground at the same time. No judgment, no conditions. You are here, I am here. Let’s be friends!

Children know how to be. Their world is comprised of everything they’ve ever experienced up to this moment; nothing more, nothing less. Children know how to open their arms wide and spin, faces lifted to the warm sun, happiness beaming from every pore. They can dance without reservation, just for the sheer joy of moving, light and happy and natural. I always say, I want to party like a 10-year-old.

Children are pure. They are filled with unconditional love. Fresh from the Divine, they still sparkle and glow with an aura that vibrates with all that is holy.

Here I am …

Really? it’s been over a month since I’ve posted?

For some reason the past month has had less time than any given month usually has. Does that ever happen for you? One day sometimes seems a bit longer than normal, stretching out and extending every minute into the very fullest, maxed-out minutes ever. Then another day seems to have the shortest minutes ever dashed into time and space, the kind that surprise you as you watch the day speed by in a blur.

I’ve had a month of those teeny minutes, too-short days and just couldn’t fit it all in. I LOVE reading my favorite blogs and I haven’t even read any of them for weeks. Time to catch up! (I’m supposed to be doing my taxes right now, but I’d much rather check out what everyone’s been up to. You understand, right?)

First, thank you so much for those amazing comments on my last post about heaven being in the everyday moments. There is such beauty, grace, love and wisdom from each one of you. I bow (and hold it a few minutes. You really touch my heart. Namaste) If you didn’t read the comments, you might enjoy checking them out.

Laura - You mention angels among us. I regard you as one of them, gentle one. Your thoughts and honest wisdom always resonate with me.

Debra – Yes, there is true joy and peace found in the small, simple and everyday. Seeing the life force and beauty of a small stone or a bird’s song.

Darla – Goodness, but I always adore your loving enthusiasm! We are blessed!

Connie – I am so blessed by your friendship and so grateful for it. “Heaven is all around us - we only have to stop, look, listen and smell.” You’re part of my heaven.

Sharon – Glad you enjoyed the pics! I hope things are warming up and you’re enjoying your blue sunny skies!

Carol – Woods work, too! Any place with a life energy fits the bill, doesn’t it?

Roselle – I’m amazed and in awe that your life has been a message of angels and miracles. So wonderful that you realize it and acknowledge it! I think most of us experience heaven and miracles, but aren’t always open and aware of it. You have a grateful heart because you know.

Rebecca – “I believe that when we are at peace and when we feel loved, we tend to see the good that is out there.” I agree and concur! It’s interesting to me how two people can have the very same occurrence in their life, yet they can react to it in totally opposite directions, with one person grateful and blessed and the other person feeling unhappy or victimized. Peace and love (or lack of it) alter the experience. (( abrazos ))

Sheri – Thank you for the blog award! I learned much about you and share the same feeling about living near the water and about being truly, madly, deeply in love with life right now. SO AWESOME! You always always make me smile. I don’t usually do those lists myself, but for you, I will be very happy to make an exception – lol!

So, here I am … I’ve been doing some freelance writing for a website. Very cool project and I’m enjoying the content development. That’s part of the reason for my absence here; a lot of writing in the evenings or weekends.

And here I am … I’ve been trying to adopt a rescue dog for about two years and recently ramped up my efforts, checking petfinder.com daily, contacting organizations about specific dogs, completing applications and attending weekly dog adoption events at the pet supply stores. There are some great dogs out there! I’m allergic so have been focusing on non-allergenic breeds like Havanese, Maltese, etc. No luck so far, but I’m sure the time will come when “my” dog will present itself somehow. I think the organizations prefer to place the dogs in homes where they won’t be left alone the entire day. I understand that and I’m being patient. I totally trust that I’ll have my dog when I’m supposed to have her. I’m happy and grateful already knowing that there will be a four-legged companion in my life for me to love and care for. Peaceful and content.

And here I am … My daughter, son-in-law and two granddaughters have been living about 50 miles away from me for the past few years. Good news: They’re moving back to Huntington Beach! I’m so thrilled! They’ll only be 2.5 miles from me; we can ride bikes back and forth on the weekends. Their landlord is totally sprucing up their new home; everything should be complete May 1. They’re moving out of their current home next weekend 4/9 and will just stay with me for a few weeks before their move-in. This way the girls can get into school here for the last couple of months. Jasmine (14) moved in with me last weekend; Brianna (10) will be here this Wednesday; we’ll move ‘em next weekend (their stuff will go in the garage of their new place for now) and then everyone will be here. My usually peaceful home will be fun and funny and filled with family. I’m so happy they’re coming back to HB!

And now I’m off to catch up with you all! Those taxes can wait …

One.

“Imagine all the people living life in peace. You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join us, and the world will be as one.”-John Lennon

"I look forward confidently to the day when all … will be one with no thought to their separateness as Negroes, Jews, Italians or any other distinctions."- Martin Luther King Jr.

One.

I caught a few minutes of “Driving Miss Daisy” recently; there’s a scene where two Southern cops call Hoke “boy” several times, in that superior, swaggering, dripping-with-honeyed-hatred manner some Southern whites of that time held. That accent toward anyone has always turned my stomach. I also just finished reading “Island Beneath the Sea” (Isabel Allende), a story of slavery in Sainte-Domingue (before it was Haiti) and then later in New Orleans. Brutality toward any other being is so difficult to read about or watch.

One.

When Fear rules and guides a person—instead of Love—anyone who is the “other” (not like “us”) is to be viewed with suspicion, instead of welcomed and embraced with kindness. Witness the separateness and segregation of early immigrants: Jews, Italians, Irish with their foreign languages and customs; the separateness of women, requiring new laws to break that separateness; the separateness of Cuban refugees; the separateness and segregation of blacks, of the hatred and brutality they endured; the separateness of gays; the separateness of Latinos, those with legal status and without.

One.

The elimination of separateness seems to move through four stages:

• Tolerance 
  No one really likes “them” in our schools and society, but the “other” is tolerated, allowed limited contact
• Acceptance 
  At some point, it’s accepted that the “other” is here, like it or not, so just make the best of it.
• Integration
  Beyond acceptance, there comes a measure of equality and the “other” becomes more integrated into society, less noticed as different.
• Ignorance 
  The most complete acceptance is when the “other” is so fully integrated into all facets of life (work, schools, business, politics) that one makes no distinction at all. There is no longer any difference that fosters fear as before.

Ignorance of any difference is the goal, of course, where there is no fear or suspicion, no separateness. It’s the place where we truly become One. We see a person as tall, short, black, white, one-armed, male, female, gay, straight, etc., of course, but we make no judgment or criticism. We make no assumptions based upon the physical make-up of a person.

One.

“… your essential nature is pure consciousness. Beyond the disguises of ego-mind and the physical body, you are pure awareness, pure joy and pure potentiality.” – Deepak Chopra

When we drop away the ego and the physical, we realize that our essence—all of us—is a Divine nature, and the Divine doesn’t have a physical body. We inhabit our physical vessel for such a brief period of time and yet, some people spend far too much time noting the differences between our bodies instead of the sameness of our souls. We are not our bodies. We are not our bodies. We are not our bodies. When our mortal vessels can no longer live and we are released from our body, we will no longer have gender. We will no longer have skin color. We will no longer have sexual differences. We will no longer have handicaps or illnesses.

All these require a physical body and without a body, we then fully and completely realize Truth: we are the same.

One.

.

Giddy!

Giddy, giddy, giddy!  I get so giddy with anticipation as Advent comes to an end and we approach Christmas! I love Advent (see previous post) and all the inner work and calm presence that it provides. But I find myself yearning for the fireworks and happy joy that is Christmas!

I’m restless, anticipatory, finding it difficult to live in the present moment because I’m looking ahead to Saturday, planning my trip to my daughter’s home … then my brother’s … then my Dad’s; envisioning everyone opening the presents that I’ve chosen for each of them. Giving gifts is one of the best parts of Christmas! (Being together with those we love is the best.) I try to put careful thought into the presents and that makes it all the more delicious when I see the recipient’s happy smiles and I know I’ve hit the mark. Yippee!

I took a vacation day today and I’m glad I had a lot to do with my restless self. In the morning, I had two lab tests: bone densitometry and mammogram. Both went smoothly; in and out in an hour. Stopped at Trader Joe’s to pick up a few things and bought a pretty bouquet to take to the cemetery for my mom. After the cemetery, I had a hair appointment in the afternoon. Full day and kept me busy.

The cemetery at Christmas is absolutely THE most festive and joyful place to be! Christmas decor explodes in a riot of color and sparkle all over the hills of Good Shepherd. It’s been raining for the last 5 days, but today was nice and clear so there were a lot of families there putting up their holiday decorations; everyone working together, chatting, being family. Red, white and yellow poinsettias in big, foil-covered pots; white picket fences with gold, silver and colored garlands; cardboard fireplaces; giant red-and-white candy canes; angels, snowmen, Santas, wreaths. And the Christmas trees everywhere! Brightly, joyfully decorated with ornaments and garland wound round and round. I wish I could take pics of it all and share with you but it really has to be experienced in person. One family puts up a large cardboard fireplace and hangs stockings on it with each family member’s name; each year, more and more stockings are added to the fireplace. It always moves me; their family clearly consists of those who are still here physically as well as their loved one who crossed over.

And that’s the other beauty of the cemetery: you can feel the air almost vibrating with all the love there! I wish I could share it with you; it’s utterly amazing and always stops me for a moment as I become accustomed to the vibration there. I believe that when we think of others with love in our hearts, we often create a strong, loving connection to them in spirit, whether they’re with or without a physical body. (When my daughter was a child, if we were apart, I’d think of her or she’d think of me with love and the other would feel it with absolute certainty. My mom did that, too, all my life, and even now I sense her loving presence at times.) The physical sense doesn’t matter; it’s temporary anyway and can get in the way of the deepest connections we can make. The forever part of our selves—our spirits—are joined in a beautiful wave of love.

It’s that love connection that makes the air vibrate, I think. As people decorate with their families, they’re loving those who are with them, they’re loving those who have gone ahead of them, they’re remembering their ancestors and their people, where they’ve come from, where they’ve been. It’s all infused with a powerful, abiding, enduring love. The connections blend and blur, filling the air, the earth, the sky, the decorations, the Christmas trees. It’s an amazing experience; I think it’s especially powerful there because ALL those people are gathered there on behalf of loved ones, thinking, remembering and creating a whole lot of love energy concentrated all in one place. Even after they’ve left, that palpable energy remains in the places they’ve been. I’m really glad we still have cemeteries where so many can gather to generate this amazing and loving experience.

I hadn’t been to the cemetery since July when I broke my ankle. Mom’s headstone was in sore need of polishing and the leaves needed to be cleared off. I tried to pry the flower vases from the holes in the ground but they were tightly and stubbornly stuck. I wrestled and wrestled with them until one of the cemetery workers driving by stopped to help, using his shovel to pull the vases out and then to clear the overgrown grass around them. I was grateful for his kind help and wished him a Merry Christmas as he smiled, waved and drove away. I arranged my flowers, cleared away the grass and polished and polished Mom’s headstone until it gleamed. I knelt and prayed, sending her love, sending love to my tios and tias, my abuelos, my cousins and friends who have all gone ahead, adding to the existing loving energy in that place. My restlessness became a calmer, quieter, loving giddiness. Filled with love from all that energy, I’m soooooo ready for Christmas.

Namaste

kindness and compassion

So with a boundless heart
Should one cherish all living beings;
Radiating kindness over the entire world
Spreading upwards to the skies
And downwards to the depths ~ from the Metta Sutta

Kindness and compassion – they add such beauty to our living experiences. My parents always taught us to think of others, to extend ourselves to others, to look to ease others’ discomforts and to assist them in their needs. We always volunteered. It just comes naturally because it’s how I was raised. I don’t even think about it. I’m thankful for their gift and teaching.

My granddaughters laugh because I talk to everyone; I compliment the sales clerk on her earrings … and she shares a story of how they were passed down in her family. I talk to a couple enjoying lunch at Disneyland … and they tell me about their engagement. I talk to strangers every chance I get. People are just so wonderful when we see them through the eyes of kindness.

I smile when I drive: at other drivers, at pedestrians, at cyclists. It’s so beautiful when I get a big smile back!

My parents encouraged us to always think of how our actions affect the next person. When I drive, I try to anticipate if another driver will need to merge into my lane … and I slow down to allow them the room to change safely. In my yoga class, I always take a few minutes at the end of class to sort and arrange the yoga blocks so they’re nicely set up for use by the yogis in the next class.

We are all part of a Divine Consciousness, one Body, one Love Energy permeating through the separateness that we encounter in our physical selves. Goodness toward one is goodness toward all. Let us be good to one another. Let us be good to our selves.

May you give and receive kindness, compassion and goodness. Namaste

a little alone time …

Settle yourself in solitude, and you will come upon God in yourself. ~ St. Teresa of Avila

Solitude – we live in such a hustle-bustle world that solitude and quiet can seem hard to come by. It can be challenging to find true silence.  Everywhere there is noise assailing us: on video screens in the grocery store’s check-out line; from people’s cellphone conversations; traffic noise; children playing; radios and TV blaring. Many of us have difficulty finding a place of solitude when there are children to care for, jobs to do, errands to run. I know of folks who always have the TV or radio on to have “background noise.” Many people feel uncomfortable and squirmy in silence.

Silence provides peace and calm to the spirit. It can have a physical effect, lowering blood pressure, tension and anxiety. (Listen to loud, raucous music for a few minutes, then turn it off. You can almost feel your body say “aaaaahhh …”) Silence allows us to go within to hear the voice of the Divine. The voice of the Divine doesn’t yell and jump up and down to get our attention. It doesn’t shout; it whispers … gently, in our hearts. Yes, it’s also present in each moment of our day-to-day lives, but when we want to really touch and engage with our Divine consciousness, it can be best to find a quiet place of solitude, free from any distractions.

To find her quiet place, a friend spent time sitting under a Banyan tree each day to reflect and to write. A friend in Hawaii swam with the turtles. My mother used to sit in her big upholstered rocking chair, rosary beads in her hands, her children playing around her, eyes closed, lost in the ecstasy of prayer. Jesus often went off by himself to pray, out in the wilderness, up on a mountain, to a “lonely place.” When my ex-husband left us, I went to the beach nearly every day, just sitting and watching the waves come in and go out, gaining peace from just being in a quiet place and feeling the presence of the Divine with me, making me feel safe and Loved.

The act of solitude—of removing oneself from the distractions and chaos—gives us a quiet place to Be, to listen, to hear the voice of the Divine whispering in our hearts. It might be out on a hike, pausing to quietly gaze at the natural creation around us. Or on the ocean on a surfboard, bobbing up and down in rhythm with the waves. On a beach, in a garden, in a park, in a quiet place at home.

We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness.
God is the friend of silence. ~ Mother Teresa

Each morning, I spend those first quiet minutes in bed feeling the energy of Love in my life. I awaken happy and joy-filled, connecting with the Divine consciousness present in all of life—in the trees outside my window, in the chattering of the squirrels, in the light of the day. Afterward, I sit quietly on the floor, breathing full, deep, lung-filled breaths at first, then just sitting. Nothing to do, nothing to undo. Just sit and Be. In those quiet moments I can best hear the Divine whispering in my heart, starting my day.

How do you find peace and solitude in your life?

No fear

“If I’m filled with only one thing at a time, and that thing is loving-kindness,
then there is no room for resistance or anger or
the rest of those snotty-nosed kid emotions we all thrive on.”
~ Geri Larkin, Tap Dancing in Zen

I guess we all get them, the chain emails that are filled with anger, CAPITAL letters, multiple exclamation marks from people or groups that are absolutely fed up and mad as heck and want the rest of us to be, too. Many of these are aimed at specific people or groups of people, the OTHER, those not like us; or they’re targeted toward certain political figures or corporations. There are conspiracies afoot, many of them assert. We have to act NOW. The tone is alarmist, sensationalist, frightening; the scaremongers proclaim that the sky will fall—doom will prevail—if we don’t do something.

I delete them. I just don’t want that kind of vitriol and hate within my consciousness. There is so much Fear in them, fear that They are out to get us, that They are doing bad things. I don’t want my life ruled by fear.

I want my life, my thoughts, my emotions, my actions—my entire being—ruled from a center of Love. I want my Divine consciousness to guide my life. I want to be at peace, to be gentle with my love for all of God’s creation. I want to live with tolerance and understanding, with the inclusiveness that Divine Love counsels me to do.

Love is dominant in my life. Love is in every breath I take, each inhale and each exhale. Love is in my smile toward others I meet: young, old, clean, unwashed, tough or timid. I can’t—I won’t—live a fear-based life.

Love doesn’t incite others to fear; Love embraces, includes, tolerates, understands, forgives.

When Love fills every fiber of my being, there is no room for fear or anger, intolerance or hate. I choose Love.

Namaste

It was 20 years ago …

On February 24, 1990, Mom’s physical body died of a massive heart attack, releasing her spiritual self fully, no longer tethered and limited by the physical needs and limitations of a flesh -and-blood body. It’s hard to imagine what that moment of release must be like, but I sense that it’s a glorious and wonderful moment of immense joy and love. I hope it was—and is—that way for Mom and for all our loved ones who have loosed their earthly bonds and transcended the physical world. 

There are those who believe this physical life is all there is and there’s nothing after the body dies. That’s their personal truth. My personal truth is what C. S. Lewis wrote:

“You don't have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body.”

It occurred to me earlier that when Mom was alive, our relationship was with both of us in physical form; pretty easy to communicate. Currently, one of us is in a physical body and one of us purely spiritual energy; more challenging to communicate. Eventually, our relationship will be with both of us in purely spiritual form; this will probably be the easiest to communicate, with no egos involved, just pure love. That will be pretty incredible, assuming that I have any of this right at all. It’s just something I got a sense of earlier and it seemed like an interesting thought to consider.

Senses – For those who are sensitive to such things, have you ever noticed that sometimes a scent, or a taste, or a touch of breeze can suddenly bring to mind someone who has crossed over? For me, it’s often through my senses that I get a sense of a loved one’s presence. Sometimes, though, there’s no obvious trigger that causes me to sense someone. I’ll be doing something random and my Tia will pop into my head and cause me to smile, sensing her love and maybe smelling her tortillas on the stove. On Saturday, one of my little cousins was wearing a dress with a bow in back and I sensed my Tio Luis and remembered—as if it was happening in present time—how I always preferred that he tie the bow on my dress as a little girl. His brown workman’s fingers were gnarled and twisted; that’s just the way I always knew them, even when he was playing piano. I didn’t know what arthritis was and never really gave a thought as to why his fingers were like that. But with those crooked, bent fingers he’d take his time and tie a big, full, absolutely perfectly straight bow on my dress. Gorgeous!

I took flowers to the cemetery on Sunday to honor my mom and the anniversary of her passage. A lot of people don’t like cemeteries; many say we should bring flowers while our loved ones are still alive. I did bring Mom flowers, and other gifts, too, during her world life. (I read that the Sufis distinguish between “world life” and “soul life.”) One of the first gifts I chose and bought for her was a small plastic statue of the Virgin bought from the religious goods store after catechism one Saturday morning. In my mind, I can still see it on the windowsill where it sat for years and years. Over time, we used to buy one another “for no reason” gifts; I’d see a vase I think she’d like, she’d see a sweater perfect for me. (She was always trying to get me to wear a sweater.)

Since she’s living her soul life, though, I can’t buy her a Mother’s Day card or a vase or a pair of earrings. (What use would she have for these anyway?) But I can honor her by taking flowers to the place where we buried the body she used to hold me, to kiss me, to care for me and for all she loved. And I can sit in the sun, scrubbing her headstone with love and respect, spraying it with polish and rubbing and rubbing until the stone is gleaming. I can clear out the overgrown grass and leaves, put fresh water in the container and trim the flower stems to fit. I can kneel and pray and thank her for her presence in my life, for the way she taught me about the Divine and about love, and good times with family and friends. I can let the sun warm my skin … and I can sense her presence when I feel the breeze unexpectedly growing stronger and running through my hair as I kneel and pray—a caress from my mom, my beloved mom. My heart fills with love. 

Shower the people you love with love!

Shower the people you love with love.
Show them the way you feel.

Ahhhh … James Taylor, telling it like it is. And it doesn’t apply to only romantic relationships; in all our relationships – family, friends – we should be able to tell those we love that we love them, to be able to share with them how much their presence means in our lives. Rain down the love, people!

As my granddaughter Jasmine wrote when she was about 7:

Love, love
I love to love
My heart goes with me
So I can love
Yes it is true
Because I love you!

There is powerful energy in love, an energy that spreads beyond the people who are sharing in that love. (I read recently that committed couples actually improve the conditions of their entire community – government, schools. churches, retailers - and are a stabilizing factor in it.) I believe that when two people love, their love energy is magnified and spreads beyond their relationship, like happy colorful balloons floating gently out into the world.

Singles (like me) exude a powerful love energy, too, and we love with as much intensity and passion and strength as couples do, but couples—through their intensely personal commitment to be a life partner to another person, to be an involved witness to that person’s life—have an additional capacity to multiply the energy of love for all the world. I love the line from “Shall We Dance”:

“You're saying 'Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go un-witnessed because I will be your witness'."

That is a profound responsibility for one person to take on for another. Wow. There is power and strength in that kind of love for another. I admire people who have found that one person who makes them “zing!” enough for them to want to take on that responsibility, for better or worse, for ever and ever. And I thank people who have found that and made that commitment because we all benefit from it.

So thank you, couples! And even as a single, I will always, always make sure to shower the people I love with love. The more love energy we all put into the world, I believe, the more love there is to counteract the hate and violence of some. Let the love rain down!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * *

Tomorrow’s my birthday! I love birthdays and being able to celebrate another year of living a wonderful, blessed life. I am abundantly grateful for my mind, my circumstances, the people in my life, the opportunities, the beauty that each day affords.

Last February 15, I wrote the following on the blog:

Thank you, dear friends. You remind me of all the various parts and history of who I am and who I have been. Each of you holds a different piece. I am abundantly grateful to have you share some part of my life's journey with me. How happy you make me!

Still so true this year, too. Thank you for your presence!

Namaste