Epiphanies... and anniversaries of the heart.

Today, I wait to watch the new sun that rises for me. Watch with me and see that everything speaks to us of passion, everything is alive, everything has spirit and it invites us all to simply -- cherish it.

Years ago, I read a marvelous poem, actually an elegy, written by Thomas Grey titled "Elegy in a Country Courtyard". The poet wrote this particular piece as he wandered through a graveyard back in 1750 at twilight -- very much how as a teenager, I would wander Mount Albion and contemplate on the meaning of life, the toil of those who had achieved and of those who did not. I would think, and still do, of the mockery of ambition, the struggle of both the rich and the impoverished to be happy, and the eventual realization that no matter what our circumstances in life, we all finally rest in some fashion "upon the sweet lap of earth". Gray felt that this was not much as simple joys are forever gone, destiny is obscured;

"For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn
Or busy housewife ply her evening care...
the paths of glory lead but to the grave."

However, in my walks through that cemetery, and recently among cemeteries here in Mesa, Apache Junction, Bryce Utah, and the Oak River Creek where I scattered my beloved Doug's ashes... I do not feel that sense of despair. I used to take rubbings of old tombstones (kind of want to do that again in my 50s now) and in some ways came to know and love the people long ago laid to rest beneath them. It was there that I often sat and wrote prose or poetry, singing a song of praise for every day that we have remaining... writing an elegy for every day that slipped through my life unnoticed and unappreciated. Thanking the Universe for giving me eyes that can truly see and a heart that can truly feel.

How many of my readers are aware of their own poet/songwriter inside? Far too often in this surreal techno world we move through our days in a fog or a frenzy -- until we are startled into consciousness by an unforeseen threat to something we hold dear and have been taking for granted for far too long.

I call these opalescent moments "simple epiphanies" because they jar me into a profound awareness of how much we have, and how much we have escaped, and how much there is to be grateful for. My beautiful granddaughter, Jessica, asked me (close to our last wonderful weekend spent together) why I did not seem to be bothered by things. I smiled and told her that it was not that I was not bothered, as I often was, but that I was able to know what was most important to me now... and that is love, and peace and following my own path. I call that GRACE.

Through the mystical alchemy of Grace and daily gratitude, what might have become an elegy to my life is transformed into appreciation, joy, and exultation. My own recovery or that of a loved on who has been seriously ill,the reconciliation after a painful breach between mother and children, the realization of how very lucky we are if we are doing work we love or, in this current economic climate, if we are working at all, the rejoicing that surrounds us at a long awaited rite of passage, the enormous satisfaction that comes after completing an overwhelming task and, one of the most important to me today, is the serenity that awaits us after a struggle has been abandoned.

The loss of my beloved Doug, Cancer, the anger of children, the absence of a beloved grandchild, the love of Tom and the support of friends are my epiphanies and they teach me to cherish everything. Everything speaks to our souls, with great passion, if we are still enough to listen and willing to hear.

Jane Seymour once wrote "You have to count on living every single day in a way you believe will make you feel good about your life so that if it were over tomorrow, you'd be content."

Amen Ms Seymour. Amen.

Although I do have regrets, I know, even more deeply today, that I have given all the very best I had and that I have lived my life in a way in which I am proud. Am I perfect? Hell no. Will I make mistakes in the time God still gives to me? You betcha...

But I will write a song of thanksgiving for every day that remains....

Creating a nurturing work place... in a sometimes hostile environment.

Work, even when I was a stay at home Mom, is essential to my over all well being and sense of self. I have always taken great pleasure in work and always looked forward to heading out the door on a Monday morning to go to work. That joy dimnished back in October of 2009 when I was laid off from Qwest for over 9 months. It has almost vanished from site since the economy went on a downward spiral, the unemployment lines grow longer, and older people in their 50s with good educations and experience are no longer valued... and tossed aside. I have value... and I have worked hard to be able to hold a good job. A good job?

Now what once brought me joy and comfort brings me stress and fear and that stress and fear is definitely contributing to the growth of cancers and the liver disease. The question is, what, if anything, can I do about it? Yes, I put out resumes daily, I even obtained a Real Estate license in the hope of building a business, but the economy looms heavy over all... and all stagnates. So what can I do?

I am a person who has always loved rituals and schedules. I realize that rituals of self nurturance are the cement that binds the day together especially as I now spend anywhere from 8 - 12 hours in the very pits of Hell and away from home and safety. At home, I can go and get that favorite cup of flavored coffee. I can glance at the cactus on my patio or the pictures that show so much love. I can smell the lavender that eases my pain and calms my soul. I can listen to classical music or the gurgle of a fountain. How can I do that in a cubicle where we are treated like cogs in a machine and even a moments conversation is frowned upon... with quotas ever increasing and expectations going above what most of the people will never attain? How do I bring peace and contentment into this work environment? Can I?

How can I create a pretty and pleasing workplace in this environment; a comfortable "nest" in a sterile chatoic environment? Perhaps I can bring in a pretty desk lamp? We have already had to remove personal plants but, maybe some pretty baskets and a small amount of potpouri that I am NOT going to have a reaction too. I have photos of Tom and Jessie... maybe a mirror and a few books of poetry or even a Dr. Seuss book. I could take in a pretty pillow or make a small afghan throw (as I am so often very cold there despite 100 + degree temperatures outside... Yes, these things I can do and will try to do to ease the pressure and stress.

I know!!! I can create a comfort drawer as well! I can fill it with those special things that are needed sometimes like a small sewing kit, tissues, breathmints, a couple of blank birthday card and cards of encouragement for co-workers. I can add some licorice and some dark bitter chocolate, some chai tea and hot cocoa. Then I should have some pain reliever, a band-aid or two and some hand sanitizer...

Another thing I could do is to create a little toy box of sorts. My daughters attorney 12 years ago, Karen (a very intelligent woman) often would take out this expandable ball and move it in her hands as she contemplated cases. I could create a small toy box at work and for a few minutes out of each day NOT have to be so grown up and mature. Maybe a small puzzle, a slinky, a little etch-a-sketch, my chinese health (chime balls), a kaleidescope, and even some silly putty... that might relieve some stress.

I already have a CD player at work, but would, sometime soon, REALLY like to get an IPOD and load it up with so many of my favorites... from 17th century chamber music, to classcal, to folk to rock to pop... but calming not frantic or heavy metal at work.

I can start to do what I did at Qwest, where we really were a team and a family... every few weeks I can bring in baskets of something good to eat (not necessarily fattening) but homemade, comforting, and tasty...

Perhaps, if I treat myself well on the job, the job will feel that vibe and treat me and others well too? I know, I know... strange little pagan that I am... but could not all of that be an inspiration?

My first degree is in psychology, and the truth is that the therapeutic value of a calming, friendly workplace is the first thing employers SHOULD think about as a benefit but it is generally the last.. Working happier accomplishes much more than working harder, don't you agree?

"When we truly care for ourselves, it becomes possible to care for more profoundly about other people. The more alert and sensiive we are to our own needs, the mor loving and generous we can be towards others".

I can but try... until God sends me a different job. Pray for me please.


Blessed be.

A HOUSE IS WHO YOU ARE, NOT WHAT OTHERS THINK YOU ARE OR OUGHT TO BE.

I have owned and lost two homes since 1993. The first due to illness and death, the second due to love and need. The first home was one for my husband and one of his choosing... furnished to express his needs and loves. The second home, although I loved it, was still not truly mine and I worked to provide an environment that would make the majority that harbored inside its walls happy and contented (not that I necessarily succeeded mind you).

Today, I rent a comfortable little townhouse in a decent section (although not the Best section) of Mesa, AZ. I have a great landlord who allows me to care for it as if it were my own and over the last four years a companion who helps me decorate it to lighten my soul and express my pagan spirit (Native American more so now). Since cancer struck with such vengence, I decided to remove myself from the Victorian Era (all dark and heavy) and pursue the openness of the land that surrounds me. Those who were used to the "phoney" me, the people pleaser me, the one who would put every need she had aside for those she loved, have told me they do not care for the changes I have made and have gone so far as to infer that it is another's influence that has created them. I wish they could know how much this saddens me but, I know it would make no difference and they simply want what was not me back... I will not go back. I have NEVER been weak willed, just more concerned about everyone else's comfort instead of my own and that has not served me well in life. This is me... like it or not (and it always has been the real me).

Like it or not, the personalities of our homes are accurate barometers that reflect, through our surroundings, where we have been, what's going on in our lives, and who we are -- TODAY -- though not necessarily where we are heading or will be in the future. Once I started living alone, I realized how painfully dark my life had been and my surroundings actually echoed that... they were not me. I wanted light and openness.

Now, I understand that this is probably not the most reassuring thought for a meditative period (one that I embarked upon this weekend). Nevertheless, it is a true statement. "You will express yourself in your house whether you want to or not", said Elsie de Wolfe who wrote a book titled The House in Good Taste back in 1913 that transformed the way American's decorated for over 50 years. I have learned the truth of this and the freedom of this, which made my cleaning/meditative process much more spiritual this past weekend.

Now my reader's response will probably be "if I had enough money to redecorate, then you would be the real me"... Of this I have no doubt and I will not totally disagree. But as someone who lost her husband 12 years ago, was left in extreme debt and accumulated more through family legal problems and poor health, I can tell you that I (nor you) can afford to put my life and creativity on hold until there is more cash, because in trying to do so, I learned how greatly I had shortchanged myself (and apparently) those I love.

Over the course of these last four years (laiden with bitterness and tears from loss and cancer but enlightened by love, laughter, and faith), I have learned that through acceptance, blessing my circumstances, and discovering and not being afraid to show MY personal preferences, I have been able to jump start my personal authentic style through the way I care for and now decorate my home.

Where money certainly would help me to express myself further through my surroundings, I believe I have created a warm inviting home (to those not judging from a false past)that reflects MY personality and I have done so without hiring a decorator, asking ANYONE elses permission, or pulling out a credit card or checkbook.

So today, as I finish cleaning and washing, I will look upon my little home through the eyes of LOVE. I will walk around the room and offer thanks for the walls and floors that safely enclose me and provide a place of love and peace for my granddaughter,the neighborhood children, Tom and my friends. I will take mantra moments to consider all of the other woman who have lost their homes through death, divorce, debt, Obama, or disaster. I will be and am grateful for this home I have, knowing that, at this moment, all I have is all I truly need.

Blessed be.

Laughing Down Lonely Canyons

I deliberately chose to spend this weekend alone as there are so many things I have to sort through. The one that is closest to the surface and most raw is the damage that has been done since this last May to relationships that I cherish, love, and need by the very people that I have loved, cared for, and sacrificed for.

I kept a special man in my life at arms length for almost four years... afraid to allow myself to love again (afraid of loving again at all as I knew the pain and sorrow that can come from that). Just as I let the walls down and let myself fall very much in love... I was hit with hammers from hell wielded with great force by those I have loved for 30 plus years...

This wonderful man, knew my love of family and of my close attachment to a very special little one, and although he would have greatly preferred to have time alone with me, he welcomed her along with us on trips, dinners, outings... and he came to love her as she loved him.

This man has saved my life (literally) by encouraging me to get medical care which found cancer, riddling my body from breast to colon, to throat, to blood, to skin. He came and cared for me more tenderly then anyone I had ever known through mutiliating surgeries that would have sent most men running in the opposite direction. This man, while I was at work, cleaned house, planted a wonderful desert garden for me, did laundry, cooked, and went shopping buying me things that I would look at in stores... and surprise me with them .

One night, when I was filled with angst over my feelings, I fibbed to him and went to a movie under the pretext of going to a class... I came home late to find the candles in the house all lit up and a wonderful dinner waiting for me. No one had ever done that for me before.

This man does not like the ballet but does take me to see it and does not make fun. He enjoys some musicals but not all, yet still watches them with me and does not make fun of me. He listens to my dreams and then tries to make them come true. He honors my love of Indian paganism and lore and is not poking fun at me for the changes I am making in decor and self... he helps me become the woman I always have been but who disappeared one day way back in March of 1970... even before.

I am back exploring, hiking, climbing, horseback riding, going antiquing, to museums, studying history, talking politics, being with people who share my beliefs and my passions... I can even watch the Waltons and Little House on the Prairie without fear of ridicule. This man has set me free and allowed me to be me.

The response from younger ones who never ever really knew me? HE IS CONTROLLING YOU. Silly silly loved ones... more like I control him if the truth be told... and then not so there. How about RESPECT and LOVE for one another that makes each of us want to bring the other joy, health, and peace. That lets both of us wake up each morning with a smile on our faces, despite the cancer and sometimes the distance, and lets each of us curl up at night, praying for the others health and safety as we drift off to sleep in peace and contentment.

I guess my question and sorrow is... how could those I love so much go out of their way to hurt me so deeply? Or try to destroy something so absolutely perfect that puts a smile a mile wide on my face. Or why take it from another little one who has no understanding of why? Or hurt a man so deeply when all he wanted to do was be friends and accepted? Who has done nothing but love me, care for me, and protect me.

How do they continue to honor someone who, although loved greatly by me, did so much damage to all of us through lifestyle choices that were made from pain and selfishness?

I keep asking God to help me understand.

So far, all I am getting is silence and emptiness... and the echoes of laugther down lonely canyons that I may never get to hear again... I want my time with two special people back. Please God, let me have it.