THE WAYS OF THE WINTER SPIRIT: SURRENDERING TO THE STILLNESS

My photograph for this Christmas was taken last year in Idyllwild, California. The moon star lit up the sky so beautifully silhouetted by the tall trees. When it’s so dark that I can’t see the forest for the trees, it’s definitely time to look for light sources. I looked up and there was this bright burst. Photo credit to Kathleen Dana Haine.

THE WAYS OF THE WINTER SPIRIT: SURRENDERING TO THE STILLNESS

It’s Christmas time again, but this year is distinctly different for me. Although I had a lovely visit from my goddaughter and family last weekend. Christmas time itself and New Year’s Eve will be alone time this year.

Health challenges are rewarding me by staying home, though. It’s giving me time to pause and reflect on the meaning and purpose of life. To look at what things I choose to change and which things I desire to keep. While I love socializing and frivolity, it’s a necessary introspective time right now.

My Christmas wish was to be well enough to physically attend the children’s Christmas Eve mass at my local church. Singing harmony on all the beloved carols in the congregation brought tears to me eyes…happy ones. The angels are still singing in my home: Silent Night and a chorus of “Gloria in excelsis Deo.”

This week I had a visit with my alternative doctor who gave me good suggestions and some encouraging recommendations. One major recommendation to help me stay on the planet was: add sugar to the no-no list along with calcium and protein foods I have already given up. The addiction to the sweet stuff may light up the pleasure center of my brain, but it also amplifies inflammation, causing some very non-pleasurable effects.

Along with other physical homework, like massaging the scar area of my arm to get feeling back, I still require healing on the scars that don’t show.

Grief, loss and loneliness keep sneaking back into my veins. It’s harder to full-on heal when it’s cold inside as well as out. Internal snow seems more resistant to melting. However, there are many effective remedies for these recurring feelings. Sitting down by the hearth and having a fireside chat with each one is my favorite techniques.

Grief is the emotion that’s easiest to flip for me. Grief is really just love that’s blocked by loss and loneliness. I counteract it with a memory that could melt a blizzard in the dead of winter. I have MANY of those memories and basking in them brings back the feelings intensified over the original.

I also reframe memories that are not so easy or pleasant. I rewrite the past in my mind. Somehow it changes me in the present so I can accept a better future. The mental matrix is a hologram to program and reprogram. I am getting to be a master of tweaking the system to my advantage.

Sometimes even physical pain can be reversed. I feel my cells regenerate. Epigenetics switches on and then anything is possible. (See the works of Bruce Lipton for more understanding of that phenomenon.)

Alone time is now different for me than loneliness. When it’s accepted, surrendered to, then the stillness becomes the unseen friend, an access point to answers, a connection to God/Source/Creator. the gateway to possibilities we miss with our busy “monkey mind.” Even if nothing SEEMS to be happening, linear time has opened up to infinity where the possibility of miracles makes a template for the wonderment to unfold.

Sometimes I feel like meditation and prayer put me in an unlit room, but then a door opens and there’s a surprise party inside for me with all the loved ones and gifts I have ever dreamed of. When I meet them in real time the faces may have changed or details of the gifts. But it’s often even better than I imagined.

Whether I meet the gifts immediately, or in the future of divine timing, I am still grateful. The notes of the symphony are impressions before they reach the heart, the mind, the ear, the music sheet, the instruments, the stage. To negate their existence with self doubt or non-acceptance of their beginning invisibility would be a harsh destruction of a joyful outcome.

I hope your winter dreams yield a springtime harvest. I am already hearing angelic arpeggios for healing songs when the stillness turns to melodies I will write for my mandolin and me.

DIAGNOSIS: END STAGE RENAL FAILURE PROGNOSIS: FULL-ON MIRACLE HEALING

The porch of our family home in Idyllwild is the photograph for this blog. It was a place to sit contemplating big decisions and savoring moments of solitude. It lives in my memory now, a part of the collective of our life together.

I’ve been dancing through different stages with the kidney issue for some time now. Fourteen years on an inappropriate

prescription drug left me needing a kidney transplant back in 2008. Through a strong mix of motivation and miracle, I got up to

30% function and maintained a GFR (globular filtration rate, the measure of renal function) until 2016, after my husband and I

relocated to the central California coast.

While Bob developed a series of illnesses, I had my own health challenges including two failed dialysis surgeries in my left

arm. The three years of caregiving my husband through open heart surgery, Parkinsons and dementia yielded lessons in patience,

faith and unconditional love—for both of us.

After the passing of my soul partner in 2019. there were three more years of difficult decisions: the sale of our mountain home, the

reconstruction of the beach home, the strange times of Covid………..

Then came a time of soul searching the summer of 2022 while having informative flashbacks and moving through PTSD.

I had reached a crossroad on my birthday. I learned who and what I truly was— full disclosure on that later.

I had to be in a healing cocoon for a few months before I grew my wings back again.

This time the wings seemed to be made of stained glass on steel. But even steel breaks under pressure. There were many pressures.

I had become a spiritual diamond from hard core coal, yet there was a definite crack in the system. I was reminded of the poetical

message of Rumi and Leonard Cohen…The Crack is the way that the Light gets in.

Stage five symptoms have caused more than a few cracks. However, my path does not include another surgery which will lower

my kidney function with no promise of improving it. I do not choose “status quo” with a few more years of declining function with

a nightly artificial support system. ( I honor those who do choose it but I follow a divergent direction.)

I CHOOSE LIFE FULL ON.

The fear of death does not intimidate me. If it did, my near death experience in 1979 pretty much dissolved that. I share the belief

that the body is an amazing vehicle of the spirit with guidance from an extremely intelligent Source.

I may live alone, but I am not going through this alone. I have been assembling an impressive support team of alternative and

regular doctors, magnificent healers, intuitive therapists, and am receiving the compassionate assistance of the local Hospice of

San Luis Obispo and their wonderful counselors and volunteers.

I have informed my new friends at hospice that I am going to get well, surpassing the normal expectations and becoming the

vibrant being I was meant to be.

I have started up the blogging again for a two fold purpose: to keep an account of my journey to wellness and also to encourage

others to follow their true heart’s desire, to lead them to the joy of life however they picture that.

My picture is still not complete but I have put the pentimento of my scars on the paper and am adding colors daily to the design.

Time: The Clock vs Infinity

This charming clock is in the library of The Kaleidoscope Inn and Gardens in Nipomo, CA where I have enjoyed some fine memories. I actually took this photo one early morning when it was 7:30 in real time, 8:07 in its frozen clock time, and I am sharing it in this blog at 11:11 on the last day of summer 2021, during a full harvest moon. It should be apparent by now that time is a reference point which is useful for measurement but not a constant. Fragments of time exist in an infinity, much as the shattered pieces in a kaleidoscope provide changing patterns of beauty when it is turned or shaken.

I had a very busy day today as I am preparing for a couple back-to-back trips. I had not planned to share a blog at this point, but I heard that Voice in my head saying, “No time like the present…Write what you have to say now.”

How often do we put off words, actions, events because we are waiting for the right moment when we’re “ready” or “prepared” enough to take a plunge into the waters of a river that is changing every single moment? And we risk the loss of a glorious opportunity paralyzed in perfectionism thinking if we don’t do it A+ perfect, we should skip trying at all.

Infinity gives us so many chances. But on this globe we call Earth, there are limitations. Those who hesitate are not only lost, they may well be defeated. The grace period only extends so far here…then TIME’S UP.

I have become acutely aware of this in the previous week as a family member and a dear friend both passed away, hopefully accomplishing what their soul goal was. ( I like to think they did because both of them were extremely motivated movers and shakers. One was a state senator and the other was the first female police chief of Portland, Oregon.)

That got me thinking about time and infinity, life and death, which lead to “ Am I fulfilling or at least working on my soul purpose?” Hey, do I even remember what that is?

Like a bolt of lightening striking me straight in the heart, I passionately realize/recall what that purpose, raison d’être, is for me. ( That’s something that I am not sharing until a later date.) I will say this, however, I picked one of the hardest choices for a human being to accomplish.

Back to time and its more profound extension…Infinity. The eternal best expresses in us as what we choose to do in a lifetime. We don’t know how many breaths we get to sing out, how many words we get to speak, how many promises we get to keep, how many lives we get to touch, how many times we get to love. That’s classified information.

I, for one, choose to shoot the works, taking time to make moments that will astound even myself to make the most of a rich life before I step on that path to Infinity. May we all be so motivated with the gifts we have regardless of what they may be.

P.S. I have noticed that this blog is being dated as September 22, 2021. I had not accounted for the time zone of the publication site. Rest assured, I posted it at another time and place…………..

CROSSING THE RUBICON: LETTING GO

For the first time, this is my own photography for my blog, as my photographic partner, Bob Haine, has stepped into the Light, the ultimate crossing. I took this shot at Cambria, California, on a sunset evening when I needed some time to think.

Six years can seem like an eternity…or the blink of an eye. It depends on the viewpoint and the depth of feelings regarding the time period.

It has been six years since my last blog and though that time period seemed interminable, now that it’s gone…it’s gone… and I keep the fragments I choose to keep in my life’s mosaic. The rest of the colors are painting in the past.

And what a past it was. I said goodbye to my best friend, my soul partner, my harmonic counterpoint, my husband of 42 years. It was a long goodbye. Dementia and Parkinsons have a way of elongating the process of loss. It takes away a little bit at a time, until the person has basically moved on with the personality and memory gone as well. The only way to make it through is to keep friends and family close, if not physically, at least in heart, because the caregiving is an extensive toll on the self. God bless those friends, neighbors, and caregivers who swooped in like angels to help, especially in the last days.

I learned a lot about myself, about love, and the extreme power of divine direction when I went through the process of preparing for a death. Fortunately, I had a close friend by my side when making all the funeral arrangements a year in advance. We actually enjoyed the experience together. I think we were one of the more memorable meetings for the funeral director. I kept the cremation as simple as possible. I choose a handsome cherry wood box for the cremains with our favorite quote from Le Petit Prince, when the fox says goodbye and shares his secret. I picked out my own funereal things as well. I know someday I shall need them. Death is unavoidable, but the transition process can be beautiful and strangely joyful if done right.

I had made a promise to Bob that I would keep him at home until the very end. It was a promise I kept although not easily as I went through major surgery for a dialysis port, which got severely infected and failed. The second procedure failed as well. I just had to get better and stronger, so I did.

Meanwhile as the time for saying goodbye grew nearer I made sure that Bob could see all the people he loved under the best and happiest conditions. I decorated the house for Christmas in July that year, 2019. It’s always been our special time filled with parties and family, the tons of artistic and handmade decorations, the spreads of food fit for a Dickens Christmas Carol feast. We got to enjoy wonderful, loving connections with family and friends.

I knew that Bob would also be gone for his September birthday (sometimes I just see things in advance) so I made sure he opened happy birthday presents as well as traditionally wrapped Christmas gifts in August.

Our parish priest came to give final absolution and blessings while Bob was still able to speak. And we lit up the room with candles, a string of Christmas lights, and there was a soft pink glow to the room while we prayed that didn’t come from any physical source. I think it came from love.

It’s too painful still to write about the final moments of the last three days when we went from palliative care to in- home hospice. I basically became a nurse, a doula, a priestess, besides being a wife and longtime companion. It was a blessing to have a caregiver sit with me the last night and her nursing student daughter to assist me the final morning. I’d envisioned Bob and I would be singing when he passed, or at least me singing to him, but he slipped out when I looked away, telling my helper the story of my near death experience. I think it gave him the green light to let go.

And I had to let go, too…………….

That took longer. The small, informal rosary was in the rose garden of our backyard in Los Osos. The funeral and celebration of life party followed a month later, a major event in the town of Idyllwild. Although the weather and road closures kept many from making it up the hill, our Queen of Angels church was packed. I’d sent the memo for no black clothing, no sad eulogies, and we sang no sad songs. I performed with band friends including the only song Bob and I ever cowrote, God Is With Me Right Now. That presence was definitely felt. Part of the congregation who knew it by heart, sang along with the band, as well as some “non corporeal visitors.”

Since the family home in Idyllwild hadn’t sold yet, I was able to have the party there, even though all the contents were gone. Church friends and the town provided everything necessary. No tears were shed that day, just smiles and hugs for remembrance of a life well lived.

The following day, the offer came in for the house. It sold the day after on what would have been Bob’s 70th birthday. If that isn’t proof of divine timing, then I don’t know what is. So I said said goodbye to our house and let go of our home as well.

While this closed a chapter (or rather a volume) of my life, I had to find a way to keep on writing my story. It had been so long since I had been a solo main character, I wasn’t really sure how to begin. I’m still figuring that out. And the gestation period of my new life maneuvered quietly through the lonely confines of Covid until I was ripe for a catalyst to produce an emergence.

My life story has definitely turned into an extremely dynamic one lately, with adventurous plot lines I never foresaw, colorful characters I never dreamed I would include, and more like a renaissance than a rebirth of things that I love: music, dance, poetry, art, and an amazing connection with new faces, new places, and traveling again both physically and spiritually to realms that I thought were gone from my access.

They’re all back with the promise of so much to offer and share with you all. And I AM BACK although not the same. I have crossed the Rubicon and my life will never be the same again.

CATERPILLAR DREAMS: BUTTERFLY REALITY

This photo of a peaceful pair of butterflies was taken by my husband, Bob Haine. The  background of a white flower gives a tranquil setting for the two, a respite from flight and a chance to refuel. Caterpillar days are over as they take their place in the sun.

CATERPILLAR DREAMS: BUTTERFLY REALITY

It has been awhile since I have posted anything. Not because I had nothing to say or no time to say it. I have been very busy, cleaning and downsizing our home of over thirty years for a big move.

Moving to our dream home near the beach in central California was not an easy move. But we have arrived, here and now.

I have not posted anything lately because, as the caterpillar might say, “When you’re in a chrysalis state you keep still, until you’re ready to emerge as the butterfly.”

I’ve spent the months after the new year preparing to grow wings. It has been my caterpillar stage.

Nobody delves much into what the caterpillar is thinking and feeling as it hangs in that fragile cocoon. We like pondering more on what the beautiful butterfly is feeling as it floats across the sky, manifesting those gorgeous wings.

However, the ugly caterpillar stage is the most critical part of the butterfly’s development. Without this nitty-gritty formation stage, the butterfly would not exist.

It takes time, a darkened time, to formulate the butterfly. Somehow, the caterpillar knows and accepts this.

It must be frightening, at some level, to leave the only world you know, to reconstruct the body you have had, to live on the precarious edge of a branch, yet have the quiet knowing that this is the proper sequence of things.

I admit that I did not have the natural intelligence of a caterpillar when I chose to pack up my former life, leave our longtime home and move to a totally different locale.

I did not realize that not only would the structure of my home change, but that I would not be the same creature after re-establishing myself somewhere else.

The metamorphosis from a caterpillar life to a butterfly life is not easy. During the preparatory times, there are lots of questions if one is a human caterpillar. Questions like:

When is my escrow going to close? I’ve sold my home; when am I going to find a new one? What do you mean when you say that I can’t get a loan on this property?

The list goes on and on…..

Finally, there is an ah-ha moment, a time of surrender. Like the caterpillar, it is not resignation as much as the sheer acceptance that there are bigger, more mysterious forces at work.

Go into the cocoon. Dream the beautiful dream. Let the feelings of discomfort, fear, even despair, pass through like a mist. The dew is settling on the bush, and one fine day the realtor will call and say, ” The perfect house for you just went on the market today.”

You know the minute you walk through the door that this is the home you’ve been  waiting for all your life. Much like the butterfly coming out into the light for the first time, you realize this house is not just a house. It is the repository of your feelings, the carrier of your dreams. In short, it is not just a house; it is your forever home.

My husband and I were fortunate enough to find such a home, our house of love and light. I have enjoyed the rebirth, making this place a structure with our unique imprint: the blue, white, and sand colors of the beach, the blend of my art and my husband’s photography, our shared music and instruments, my touches in the surrounding garden.

I have planted butterfly bushes and “save the bees” flowers. The hummingbirds, hawks,  and finches come for visits. On the ground, a line of quail stroll by in the morning.

The coyotes, spiders, and snails are welcome here, too. If you exclude the so-called negatives in the natural ecosystem, the system collapses. We all need a home in this interdependent world.

Has the transition from city life, to part-time mountain life, and now the rural bay life been smooth?

In a word: NO.

We human butterflies are beautiful and freed from many things. But the world outside our inner world is still throwing us curves. The wind currents and earthquakes are still slamming us:

Why do we need a cardiologist, a pulmonary expert, a nephrologist, an x-ray, a CAT scan? What do you mean we may not be covered by our insurance since we moved? What if, how can, must I…?

And the wise monarch butterfly that floats past me in the yard is whispering, “Let go. Just breathe.”

When I wake up and realize I am the spirit in my body more than the body is in my spirit, I will know my winged friend is right.

It may be hard to be a butterfly in a caterpillar world, but as more and more wings open to the light, this becomes a beautiful place to be.

I am so grateful to have my part in this world and to share  life in my new homeland with my wonderful friends and neighbors.

THE MEANING OF LIFE: ONLY THE HEART KNOWS

Light and water are two components of life that no one can do without. Sunlight on the ocean makes for a perfect moment and a happy heart. This photo of Bob’s at Carlsbad Beach, California, is an inspiring example of that feeling of fulfillment.

THE MEANING OF LIFE: ONLY THE HEART KNOWS

I am sitting in a crowded restaurant waiting for almost two hours for my husband and our friend to show up. I have plenty of time to get to know my thoughts. In between bites of tasty appetizers, I look out the window to see what’s there.

I would rather look into the window of my heart and see what’s inside there…love, promise, expectation, honor, events of the past, future dreams, the glory of now, the dance of my bloodstream, my connection with parents, grandparents, children, friends, and people I haven’t met yet on the wheel of life. Even now, the year is turning toward them.

How often do I have time just to sit in a crowded, noisy restaurant and write, uninterrupted, listening to my heart. What a blessing that is! There is cacophony and chaos all around me. Children yell for “Mommy,” and multiple conversations of the packed room go in waves around the room.Yet, I am calm, as though listening to the ocean waves at sunset, having a private conversation with my heart.

That would make a good song title: Conversation With My Heart. The conversion of my life could begin by listening and then reorganizing my priorities to a finer way of living. My to do lists and New Year’s resolutions have caught the attention of my mind. Now it is time to let my heart have its say.

Love has always been the heart’s answer that leads to joy. Why haven’t I listened? Perhaps I had not yet asked the right question or phrased it properly.

What is the meaning of life, my life?

…anything I want it to be if I write the words with love. The end result will be joy. The foundation will remain solid even when the world around me is crumbling in sand.

It’s just a few days into 2015  and that’s the most beautiful thought I have had so far. I can hardly wait for more to come.

Beyond The “Blues”: Christmas Hope Was Born At Night

Bob’s photo for this blog shows the light shining through the forest of Hurricane Ridge in Washington. Sometimes light comes to us in ways we didn’t foresee.

BEYOND THE “BLUES”: CHRISTMAS HOPE WAS BORN AT NIGHT

Christmas has always been my favorite time of year. Even though some Christmas holidays have been difficult emotionally or financially, I am still convinced the winter holidays are the most wondrous time of year.

The nights are longer, and the winter may seem darker. However, the light that is present in all of us is strong enough to give us hope for the new year and happiness in the moments we have left in this year.

This season has presented multiple challenges for me, especially in overcoming health issues. So many friends and family members are going through difficulties as well. I have found it hard to distinguish what has been making me feel deep sadness off and on during this holiday time. Is it my own feelings or the ripple of emotions from those around me?

Turning within, rather than looking at the world of outer effects, I had a thought: hope is born in the darkest times. Faith lights the candle that is started from hope. That flame guides us until we see there is a brighter dawn.

The Christ child was not born in a comfortable palace during convenient daylight hours. But there was a star above the holy family and a light within the baby. We have the same light.  According to many texts, we also have the same possibility to make miracles.

That’s what I am requesting this holiday season. For my friends and family that are battling cancer and heart problems, I am proclaiming health. For those that are barely making ends meet, it’s time for gainful employment and having pleasant living conditions. For those that are recovering from grief over the death or loss of a loved one, I see them spiritually renewed.

As for the world, we are all connected by invisible energy that becomes visible when our works are driven by thoughts of love. Good thoughts from one heart can heal hundreds of hearts that are miles away.

I’ll just include a closing phrase that sums up all the yuletide possibilities: PEACE ON EARTH. GOOD WILL TO ALL.

LOVING MYSELF: I SING THE BODY PERFECTIC

Before the rain yesterday, this is the vision Bob and I saw in the clouds. I see a woman blowing a horn if I look at the photo from far away. Others see a man looking right at the viewer. I wish we could show this as a vertical shot because the cloud  looked so spectacular hovering over the rooftops and trees.

LOVING MYSELF: I SING THE BODY PERFECTIC

I have recently been reflecting on the perfection of the body and how little love we tend to give it. It is our first and oldest friend. It is the final companion we will bid farewell. More than a garment that houses our spirit, it has a life of its own that depends on us to help shape it and protect it.

I am grateful that my body did not give up on me when there are so many times I have not been that kind to it. I am inordinately kind to others around me and sensitive to their needs. However, looking back, I have seldom given the love and respect to my own body that it so richly deserves.

Every body deserves love and respect. Every body is a gift from God, on loan to us for this lifetime. Having free will, we can choose to treat it however we want. Many religions tend to downplay the importance of the body for a variety of reasons. They talk about temptations of the flesh, but it is really the mind that makes the choices.

I choose to honor my body as much as I can, for as long as I can. That does not just mean giving it good food and taking it for a walk. A dog owner knows that this protocol will keep a dog in shape. If the dog is to thrive, then another ingredient must be added to the mix: LOVE. And in return, the dog is happy and glad to serve its master.

How many kind people would yell bad names at the dog for being “ugly”? Would they stop loving him if he got too fat? Would they quit loving him if he were in pain? Yet these same people (myself included) repeatedly think bad thoughts about their less-than-fabulous-Madison-Avenue bodies, and the aches and pains of aging.

It’s time to STOP… CHANGE THE COURSE OF OUR THOUGHTS.

Regardless of what has manifested in my body, I choose to love my faithful companion. The longest marriage of flesh and spirit in my life deserves my affectionate attention. The body communicates with me, sometimes in ways I don’t particularly like, and I have the option of a loving response.

When I was put on the kidney transplant list, I did not blame my body. I tried not to blame anything. I realized that prayer work, positive thinking, and some unusual measures could help what appeared to be a desperate situation. My mother suggested a solution. She said to sing to my kidneys and visualize them up to 25% function and loving to work with me.

It seemed like a weird idea, but both my mother and I are oddballs, so I started to make a simple, happy song for them. When I reached 25% function and up to 30% function, I was not surprised. My kidneys knew I loved them enough to sing for them and they returned the favor.

Yes, the body does have an intelligence. And more importantly, I believe the body (right down to the cells) responds to the healing power of love.

Now, I just need to get over prejudices that keep me from helping the rest of the body to heal. Since I am a singer/songwriter, my idea is to write songs, love songs, for other areas that would benefit from improvement. Actually, what would be even more effective and less time-consuming would be to write one epic song: “I Sing The Body Perfectic,” and sing that on a daily basis. I love Walt Whitman’s poem on the same idea, but adding music would make the feeling more energetic.

As for what constitutes perfection…I cannot say what that means for everyone. I only know what it means for me. I can choose to have love for my body-buddy regardless of what the doctors say or what others think. I am the only one who has to live in it and I will program my thoughts and feelings accordingly. I take direction from God, my insights and angels, and those that love me regardless of my body’s condition.

And I can choose what constitutes my perfection on a daily basis as long as my eyes and heart are focused on love.

As a postscript, I might add that I met the love of my life 38 years ago today. We are working on recording more songs for our fourth bobandkathi CD today, and then we plan to CELEBRATE.

DROPPING DEADLINES: PICKING UP LIFELINES INSTEAD

The photo shown here is a lovely spot on the Oregon coast called Arch Rock. My husband got the light shining with the perfect angle. We were slated to check into a motel miles away, but we lingered at the sunset  to enjoy the moment.

DROPPING DEADLINES : PICKING UP LIFELINES INSTEAD

I had planned to do this blog as soon as my three week road trip was over. After listening and feeling “mizzle” (misty drizzle) on my face in the rain forest of Washington, I dropped the need to meet deadlines. Especially since I was the one making the deadlines. In my experience, people do not die from deadlines, especially self-imposed ones.

Most timelines can be extended, negotiated, and if missed, it’s my guess that something ever better might be around the corner. I’ve never been much of a linear thinker. I tend to be circular. I find that opportunities come around, just like some cosmic merry-go-round. I can still catch the brass ring if I lean at the right time, the moment I choose.

I am more into lifelines these days. That’s not to say I’m on a sinking ship or fallen overboard. I am not looking for a life preserver in an emergency. I am finding more and more alternatives to what I thought were rules set in stone. Stones sink.  I’d rather aim for walking on water, or at the very least, learn a better way to meet the tide.

I made a promise to myself to practice those things that are life enhancing. Daily meditation and prayer, moderate exercise, healthy food, good music, and gardening: those are my lifelines. I like to share them with my husband because that increases the pleasure.

If I ignore these necessary pleasures, the red warning light goes off. It keeps blinking until I do something about what’s causing it.

Case in point…. Before I left on vacation, I had three whiplashes, two concussions, and was struck by electricity from a rogue appliance after an earthquake. One might argue that these were just coincidences . People do have car accidents, hit heads on cupboard doors and a blue streak of electricity can strike if something is faulty.

I got the message: I was the one who was faulty. It took me awhile to learn the lesson. SLOW DOWN OR YOU MIGHT BE DEAD. That’s a deadline I did not want to meet, so I changed my ways. I bowed out of some commitments, extended some time frames, found some recreational activities that I enjoyed. I even got my first degree certification in reiki to help heal myself and others.

At this juncture of my life, I have decided it’s time to fulfill a life-long dream: to have a home on the beach. I have visualized a one story house in a quiet fishing village on the central coast of California. My husband and I both love the area. Our city home is lovely, but it’s time to find something more natural, like our mountain home. We can have the best of both worlds.

I do not let finances or the process of moving deter me. Letting go of “stuff” we have accumulated here has been refreshing for me. The house is just a reflection of our inner life as well. My husband and I have been clearing out mental things that no longer serve us and replacing them with what we truly desire.

“Today is the tomorrow I dreamed of yesterday.” That is what I will say when I cross the threshold of our new dwelling. And we will know that we have come home.

ANGELIC INSPIRATIONS: WORDS WITH WINGS

This recent photo of Mono Lake takes me halfway to heaven just looking at it. I don’t know how Bob got the Milky Way to look so close, as though I could reach out and touch it. Light is inspirational, whether it is external or internal. The best illumination is a combination of both.

ANGELIC INSPIRATIONS: WORDS WITH WINGS

Your state of mind is really where you live…not the outside world. I have lived in many different “states.” But I have never lived outside  California. My favorite state of mind is quiet contemplation because that is when I see such beautiful sights, and my best songs come to me.

It used to bother my friend Ken Porter (who is now in spirit) that I would sit down and write a song in five or ten minutes. He would spend days working on and perfecting one song. “How do you write them so fast?” he asked . My response to that question has eventually become, “ I  don’t exactly write them.”

There have been times when I consciously planned, produced, and edited a piece of poetry or music. That style of writing is rare for me now. These days (and nights) I just open up a window in my heart and let my mind take a backseat while I write the lyrics and notations down.

Afterwards, when I read back what is written on the page, I am sometimes surprised at my “creative” spelling and word usage with messages that go beyond what I know. I put my name on the copyright because I penned the song, and it would be too difficult to send the royalties to the real creator.

Since the 1980’s I have been writing songs for churches, spiritual centers, weddings, funerals, and loved ones, without any real effort on my part. The process goes something like this: I know the sermon topic, or the gospel reading, or a situation in advance, and I just ask for an appropriate song. The lyrics and music come in as soon as I make time to receive them. Sometimes, they circle like airplanes until I agree to write them down.

I remember when I was working on our first music CD, life was too hectic for me to sit down and breathe. Songs for the Soul by bobandkathi (available on the usual internet sources) did come out that year, 2012, but some songs were written at very strange hours. One time in particular, I recall awakening to a song I had been hearing as a title for days. “One Day My Soul Just Opened Up” really wanted to be “born,” but I kept saying, “I’m too busy.”

So at two o’clock when I woke up one morning, the Voice said, “You’re not too busy now.” I got up, wrote the song and dedicated it to Iyanla Vanzant, whose book I had read with the same title. (I dedicated each of the songs on that album to someone special to me.)

As far as knowing where the songs came from, I wasn’t really sure at first. When a very pleasant lady told me she saw angels around me and that they “channeled” through me, I thought perhaps she had a touch of dementia. I later came to realize what a wonderful place this world would be if everyone had the childlike simplicity to see and hear the wonderful things that are beyond standard science.

An even greater  gift is to be able to talk about it and share it with others. That makes words have wings….

I am spreading my own wings on a vacation soon where internet may not be available. Therefore, I am considering taking a few weeks off from blogging. The green of the rainforest will provide some lovely photos for my future writings. I am certain that experiences with the water, vegetation, and wildlife will inspire more to share, too.

May the busy schedules of life float away down the river until then. I will meet you on the shore.