Animal Speak

Ted Andrews, Animal Speak, has a voice that many of us could listen to forever. His messages take us to a simpler time.

His book is a frequent reference in the studio of my coastal New England home.  Early this morning, I referenced his work.  About 3 a.m. I walked into the kitchen with the lights off.  There is ambient street lighting outside.




Almost immediately, a large doe looking was into the window toward me.  She was about five feet away.  I froze.  Frozen so the doe wouldn't be frightened away.  Frozen so that I could gaze upon her beauty, thanking her for her visit.

The doe was fascinated with the shadows inside the house.  After a while, she walked toward the backyard.  She continued to look around.  Then she left and faded into the early morning darkness.

From Ted Andrews:

When you have the deer as spirit animal, you are highly sensitive and have a strong intuition. By affinity with this animal, you have the power to deal with challenges with grace. You master the art of being both determined and gentle in your approach. The deer totem wisdom imparts those with a special connection with this animal with the ability to be vigilant, move quickly, and trust their instincts to get out the trickiest situations.
The meanings associated with the deer combine both soft, gentle qualities with strength and determination:
• Gentleness
• Ability to move through life and obstacles with grace
• Being in touch with inner child, innocence
• Being sensitive and intuitive
• Vigilance, ability to change directions quickly
• Magical ability to regenerate, being in touch with life’s mysteries

Take a listen to the late Ted Andrews.  He left us too soon.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sJr8XNr7p8s

More Than This

There is something magical about flight.  It is enter another plane (no pun intended) that opens to so many possibilities.  It takes you away from the mundane, the unnecessary, the petty.  If you haven't tried it, you may enjoy it as much as I.

This photo was taken just after pre-flight inspection. In case you are interested in all the pre-flight inspection points necessary for pre-flight in a Cessna 172, like the one pictured here, check this out:

https://web.cs.wpi.edu/~rich/courses/cs525u-s08/projects/mtavares/Cessna172.pdf

When I fly, there is always a song playing in my head.  Roxy Music holds my heart in this one.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jL-sO3xwvIY

Auld Lang Syne

Auld Lang Syne is a traditional farewell to the old year at midnight on New Year's Eve for many English speaking countries.

                                         HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

I like to think of the end of the year with enormous gratitude.  I've so much to be grateful for. Friends who helped me move from the south to the north.  Realtors who have been there all along the process.  Family who traveled quite a bit to help out and visit.  Grands who make my life so full.  Friends who call checking up on me, sending me cards and lots of Fb notes.  And my dear new friends and neighbors here!!

To my former physicians who were always there, and new ones at my northern locale who ask the right questions.

I love my bungalow and its openness.  And my family and dear friends worldwide.  Thank you for everything!

Who could play this music better than Kenny G?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6xeMFywzp5A

What Is True!

Truth.  What is it? Really.

A friend of mine sent this.  I think he votes Republican and I do wonder how his party affiliation affects what is going on now.  Huge you say?

What if the Federal Grand Jury that commenced this month reveals irrefutable evidence that the 9/11 event was indeed an orchestrated false flag event and were able to identify those behind it?

Exposing the full truth of 9/11 would expose all the actions that followed - Many indications show that if it was indeed a false flag attack done as an inside job, as the majority of the public believe, and not simply a "conspiracy theory", then by exposing this treasonous act makes it possible for all of the public to be able to clearly see past the controlled mainstream media manipulated official story into the real full intentions and the long-range planned agenda of those behind these actions that followed this event that initiated the longest war in American history in the Middle East with the death toll in millions which has made us less safe and impacted our freedoms with the creation of the Patriot Act with Homeland Security, the NDAA, Project BioShield Act, Executive Secrecy Orders and so many other actions which have since been initiated directly as a result utilizing the justification of the 9/11 false flag event. All of it would then be based on a manipulated lie to the American people and our military forces.

Is the MSM also showing us a false flag?  We know 9/11 was a huge cover-up.   We know who was behind the JFK assassinations.  Government is a business.  It will also never come clean about wat goes on.

So now we have a partial government shut down.  To build a wall no one needs.  To fulfill a megalomaniac's campaign promise.  

In numerous correspondences with my friends we both agreed the MSM has its own agenda, always has.  So we have grown up truly under the dome, in restricted airspace. 

Here is the rub. On September 10, 2001 Secretary of Defense, Donald Rumsfeld, held a press conference.  He announced that 2.3 trillion dollars could not be accounted for.  It isn't just happenstance that the section of the Pentagon where these dollars are analyzed was destroyed that day.  

Remember also that the CIA's secret WTC office was also destroyed that day.  Happenstance?

Truth?  One would hope party affiliation has nothing to do with critical thinking skills. Have we all become that entrenched? Would we even know what truth is.  Do we even care anymore?

Social Media and Cookies

Social media has become the place where you brag about yourself, post your business, share your emotions and sometimes (this is the best) you just share yourself.  The latter is very attractive.

In a time where the CEOs of these kinds of companies lie to Congress, sell our personal information, tell us they are progressives, and fence off their property so they have privacy.  Really?

I've become a fan of steemit.com.  There is no self-aggrandizement from what I can see, just good journalism with the facts to back it up.  At least, as far as we know.

Sure, there are the blind who go on and on spewing their disbelief that our world has become so blatantly corrupt yet deny their part in this.

Enough of this.  We're making cookies today.   Yes, I have kept this for forty-six years.  For a time when my grands and I will bake together.  The apron is red with large white polka dots.  It is even smocked around the waist.  It is probably over sixty years old. I've already passed this down to my daughter.  One of us will be wearing it today.

My Nana would be proud!

This is a SHARE of a spot on post on Steemit.

Twenty-One Thoughts On The Persecution Of Julian Assange

This is one of the most honest, thoughtful articles I have read in a long time.  

..."Anyone who offends the US-centralized empire will find themselves subject to a trial by media, and the media are owned by the same plutocratic class which owns the empire. To believe what mass media news outlets tell you about those who stand up to imperial power is to ignore reality..."

https://steemit.com/wikileaks/@caitlinjohnstone/twenty-one-thoughts-on-the-persecution-of-julian-assange?fbclid=iwar0wptqkmkmgq4w_fpfzyndo4elxxi5rt9fcyb2lt_5nns5hquhl1mksmac

How Anti-Semitism Begins

There is a meme going around on Fb.  I'll cut/paste it but it probably will disappear soon on here.



Don't be fooled. This is how anti-semitism begins. Blame someone, maybe a horrible individual who has done horrid things, mention they are Jewish and add Nazi.

Of course you wouldn't mention they are Catholic, Methodist or Baptist.  A Jew.  

I am beyond shocked.  Appalled that 1.  It was on Fb after our elections were compromised with such ads and, 2.  That people I know, Fb 'FRIENDs" would comment on this person's behavior and not see their own in their comment.  There was no mention of this HATE meme.  

Yes, anti-semitism is on the rise.  

Will you stand up to it or, as these people did, or continue it?








I do expect the person who posted this meme to remove me from her FRIENDs list. She isn't introspective enough to examine her own behavior as she tends to lash it easily at others. It is curious that this person would do that since she has a history of criticizing everyone else's behaviors.  She models herself as a certain belief system, and posts things in accordance with this.  I hope I am wrong and that she just missed the point of this meme.  I'd be even more shocked if she gets it. Did I mention this Caucasian woman holds membership in the NAACP? Hypocrisy or just plain dense?

UPDATE:  So far, I don't think I've been unfriended.  She'd be the one to lose the friends. My friends are conscious.  The offender responded stating she didn't see this the same way.  An exchange went back and forth.  Then the former president of the Democratic organization in a county with which I am quite familiar responded:

"his belief system makes his horror even more intense."

I am more shocked that people are so desensitized not to see calling a JEW out is anti-semitic. But they meme designers are sneaky. There has been a lot written about how they draw you in on an emotional plea. That she couldn't see her part in this, that she didn't apologize but defended herself - wow.  Where do you go from this?

I give up.  How do you turn the unconscious into a conscious person? 

Planet 10: Neruba

My dreams are quite vivid.

It began the morning of the earthquake in Anchorage. I was sitting in my car chatting with a friend.  All of a sudden, the Piezo-Electric Effect (PEE) sent a brief shock down my left leg discharging to the floor of the car.  It was between 8:45 and just before 9 a.m.  I didn't write the exact time down.

A few hours later, I learned from a friend living in Anchorage of the 7.2 earthquake.  The time of the quake was a few hours later from the PEE even accounting for the four hour time differential.

Last night, only a few hours ago, I awakened after a profound and vivid dream.  I saw a spaceship, UFO, if you like, that looked like a barbell.  There were thousands of them.  From them enormous numbers of beings descended.  One came up to me.

"You are going to Planet 10,  Neruba."

I asked her to repeat it several times and she did.  Then she vanished.

My first thought was to say goodbye to my mother who had passed almost seventeen years ago.  Then I wanted to tell my children where I was going.  I wanted to know if they would be staying with their families intact; where they were going, would we all be together.

There were no answers.

My deduction from all of this is that what really matters is your spiritual connection to anyone.  Perhaps that came after listening to Ram Dass, as I often do before going to sleep.  I awakened five hours later.

The time is quickening now.

Thanksgiving

It's Thanksgiving Day!

The temperature is ten degrees.  We have over a foot of snow outside with snowpiles eight feet high in some places.  Our public works department is very efficient in keeping our roads clear.

So much to be thankful for.

Family
Friends
Health
Nature
Education
My beloved dogs
A lovely home
The chance to live my dream living in the Smokies for 17 years
A chance to live near my daughter and her family
A working boiler
Air conditioning
Good investments
A coffee shop minutes away
New friends
Our neighborhood holiday party

History Repeats Itself

It has been said that history repeats itself.  Always.  Though I wish it weren't so.

We are in seriously dangerous times.  A sociopathic, pathological liar who idolizes dictators is one problem. But he isn't the only problem.  The real problem is the masses that allow his behavior.

We've seen this throughout history. A bully takes the pulpit and tells everyone someone is to blame for societal ills.  They aren't problem solvers.  They distort, play witch games, terrorize and fire people.

In the case of government, the taxpayers continue to fund this behavior.  Protests are quiet now.  No one has been killed today in a mass murder.

Just look at social media.  Notice who heralds themself. Notice who responds to your posts.  That should tell you everything.

This will be a short note.  I don't have the energy to motivate the populace.  They are too busy with their technology, their texting.  They text because they don't want a real conversation.  That would involve engaging with you. They are too busy at beer joints with loud music.  They don't want to talk - they medicate.

I am deeply saddened to see it come to this.  History repeats itself.  It already has.

Coming Of Age

Coming of age often means a time of reflecting.  Looking back, seeing yourself as you thought you were.  Seeing those with whom you interact.  Wondering if your vision was an accurate one. Wondering if you were too deep inside yourself. Wondering...

Frost wrote,

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference."

But did it?  Aren't the roads really the same? Is there really any difference?  Are they interchangeable? Or are they a means to justify an end? 

Are we just too focus on the individual? 

Because in the end, any road takes us closer to ourself or further away.  Our soul always knows what is right for us.  We don't, however, always listen.

What is your soul telling you?

All The Ways

It was that very moment when I knew things had to change. An epiphany of sorts. It is all the ways we avoid taking responsibility for ourselves.  The friend that didn't call to ask whether we got the job.  Or if we recovered well from surgery.  A happy birthday phone call.  Or even being in someone's home.  They return late from work, pour themselves a glass of wine and don't bother to ask if you would like one, too.  The sadness one feels at being forgotten.  Switch that up and one could sum it up by not asking for the things you want.  But times continue to change and what worked fifty years ago, isn't applicable today.  Younger generations don't know that.  But they will. Especially as their own mortality closes in.

You see the younger generation believe, as they do that you will speak up for yourself.  Help yourself.  They do so they naturally think you will do it as well.  They simply don't understand or care about generational change.  They care more about themselves.  I reduce it to lack of manners.  Of thought. I imagine my own parents felt the same way.

This all began nearly fifty years ago.  It had something to do with the marriage, although I haven't quite worked that out completely.  Prior to that, I just took care of whatever I needed. Maybe it was in the person with whom I chose to spend my life.  Maybe early on my bodymind knew I was totally on my own but it didn't register in the brain.  Clearly! So maybe I sought this out in others.  Who knows.

As I attempt to recover from my own foibles and laughter at having typed that in the first place, my thoughts return to the film, The Wife.  It is remarkably profound in so many ways.  A talented writer, for reasons discussed in the film, leaves what could have been a stellar writing career to look after her husband.  That not so tacit understanding that she wasn't good enough, a female who wouldn't be published because female writers weren't taken seriously back then,  coupled with his egomaniacal nature left her in the dust.  At least, not authored. Or recognized.

Turning seventy is a decade of reflection.  Reflecting on the people who have been close to you.  Cared for and about you.  Those you will leave behind, those who will continue with you.  I've been doing a lot of the former lately.  Uneven relationships.  All completed.  No sadness, regrets, just moving on.

So in all of this what you are really doing is making other people more important than yourself.  And that realization is the moment that everything changed.

Me, Too?

Sexual harassment?

Why has this become a partisan issue of late?  It is well nigh sad that exposing this becomes a political issue.  It is well nigh sad that the stigma forever against people telling their story is one of backlash.

"Oh, she enjoyed it" is often said.

"She encouraged it."

Nearly every female has suffered sexual harrassment of some sort. Others have been groped, raped, denied promotions unless they pay the game.

This doesn't just happen to women.

I sat through the Anita Hill hearings against Clarence Hill, the Supreme Court nominee.  Her statement was totally blown off.  This man should not be on the other side of the bench.  He should be a defendent. He should have been imprisoned.  He should have gotten professional help to handle his violent behavior, if the courts deem it so.

The Me, Too movement exposed the vast numbers of people subject to this predatory behavior.  The Catholic Church hid theirs forever.

Once again, we see a perspective Supreme Court nominee.  Let history NOT repeat itself.

Sexual harassment? Rape?  You tell me.

What A Compliment!

You know how I feel about self-aggrandizers.  Fb is full of them.  I am a bit hesitant to share this good news but I shall.

A friend from out of town who has owned a gallery of fine artistan crafts and paintings visited this weekend.  As they were completing a tour of my cottage home, I mentioned the watercolors on the wall were mine.

My friend queried me several times.

"Yours?"

She saw them, liked them and didn't realize I painted them.  She wanted to see more.  I presented several to her.

She looked at me and said the kindest words.  I am too shy to share them and it really doesn't matter.  I paint because I must.  It just feels good.  It doesn't matter what others think because I enjoy them.  I won't share my work in a gallery, yet I have been asked on several occasions.  It is just my way of looking at the world.

But really. What a compliment!

Happy Anniversary!

47 years ago today, I got married.  September 5, 1971.  It was the only free time my fiance had between his many activities including law school.

That initially told me a lot.  Limited time to get married?  What about time to live a marriage? Either way, I celebrate this day.  I celebrate for all the love and care in my heart that lasted 30 years, 28 of them married ones.  I celebrate for the precious lives of my children.  And maybe most importantly, I celebrate me.

This isn't an ego celebration.  I am just passing through. I celebrate the me that was conceived from two good people.  Their marriage completed as well - after 25 years.  I celebrate the honor, integrity and love that is a part of a healthy marriage.  And I celebrate a goal of doing no harm.

Friends are in town.  They are on their way to Vermont.  Got a text last evening that they would like to meet.  I knew they would be up here soon.  So this is dandy.

I kind of think my friends will return to New England - from whence both were born.  They love skiing and ski often.  They've been married a long time, too.  A very healthy marriage indeed.

Way too much going on next week so I will just enjoy the moment.

Hello, September

Well, hi there!

I'd sure like you to take your time getting us fully into autumn.  With the move and all, I missed a lot of summer.  Even though I do my daily walks to Starbucks and have become a regular there, I still need more time in the sun.

Just about everyone knows my name there now.  I'm getting to know the regulars there, too.

Two white dogwoods were planted this week.  The mums are in the front garden, the only garden, is mulched. Trees have been trimmed.  We are looking good!

My birthday plans are congealed. My son is flying up and he and my daughter are spending the weekend together!  Then we are going out to dinner at a nearby marina.

The three musketeers - all together again - just us!

My air conditioning gets installed next week.  The following day my sister-in-law, my brother's first wife is coming for a visit next week.  A friend from the south will be in Vermont the following week.  Not sure if I will trek the necessary four hours to connect.  I've had so much going on here lately. But I would sure like to catch up!

Running The AT?

Thursday, August 30, 2018

Running The AT?

The Appalachian Trail is a 2,200 mile journey over mountains, roads, towns and farmland.  Historically, it has become a mindful journey.  A long and challenging walk through yourself.

While it is a hike through some of the most beautiful land on the eastern coast, it also has its challenges.  Black bear, poisonous snakes, insect bites, rough terrain, mosquitoes, and poison ivy. Among other not so healthly experiences, the mind also has its own journey.

You mostly walk with self, often accompanied by other thru-hikers.  But you do the bulk of the trail work inside yourself.  That can include climbing over fallen trees, rocks, streams.  It also includes working out your head stuff.

Like so many things so simplistic for the gifts they offer, walking the trail has become a sort of record thing.  Speed  Like Ms. Pharr who ran the 2,200 miles meeting her husband nightly with food and supplies.  Or the recent person who beat her journey.  Now the Belgian dentist,  Karel Sabbe, has topped Ms. Pharr's record. Most of the thru-hikers carry their own packs. They have designed restocking sites.  There is no time clock other than the weather.

I wonder if we now should be measuring the JOY one has in completing a task, walking the walk.  Maybe it is time to compete to see who grows more academically, emotionally, is in better shape than their counterparts.

I thought the measurement, if there is one, was to be inner growth. It wasn't about bragging rights, appearing in recreational magazines. Here is what was written about the experience:

"Hiking the trail is not just a physical accomplishment; it’s transformative in other ways as well. Hikers’ experiences of rebirth are not merely figurative and don’t always disappear after the hike is over. Some feel they’re communing with God while on the trail; for others, it restores their faith in humanity. Because hikers are away from family, friends, and significant others for weeks or months at a time, they must trust and rally behind one another. More than one romantic relationship and countless friendships have started on the trail and continued once the hike is over. The trail has its “sacred sites” — not only gatherings like Trail Days but also the shelters, camping areas, and towns along the way, where hikers laugh, dance, and tell stories of adventures, of hiker traditions, of trail magic, and of the heroes and legends that have grown up around the arduous walk. It also has its sacred texts, in the form of guidebooks and shelter journals, which hikers sign upon arrival at each outpost, debating philosophy, telling jokes, letting others know about “unfriendlies” in the area, working through their own inner struggles, and inspiring those whose energy is flagging. Many are at a crossroads in life and are searching for answers, and their fellow travelers or the trail itself eventually provide them, though the revelations do not come quickly or easily."

https://www.bostonglobe.com/magazine/2015/09/09/inside-mind-appalachian-trail-hiker/HZQS53jPKcj6wirW2Ll0LM/story.html

Remind me again, what kind of 'trail magic' you are getting when you run the AT?

Gratitude!

Thursday, August 16, 2018

Gratitude

I always knew I wouldn't change the address of this blog.  That I would move back to the ocean.  And, am I glad I did! I do like the new name, though.  More reflective of where I am.

This entire area resonates with me.  Nature with its abundant marshes, the ocean, picturesque shores with granite nearly everywhere - including my front lawn.  Sometimes a place just instantly feels like home.

So far.

A shutter table is on order in white.  It will go where the round table is. Atop it will be the teal glass lamp.  There is a painting I did a few years ago.  I am considering having it matted in a 23 x 28 frame. It will go behind the sectional to the left, not centered.  I'm not too traditional so I like to keep things interesting.

Now having my daughter and granddaughter visit me regularly is beyond heavenly.  The lil one knows where things are kept.  She has her favorite dishes and mug.  She knows where the basket of toys is.  She even picked out one of the twin beds she will sleep when she leaves her crib for a toddler sized one.  They transition into those now before going into a regular twin bed.   

In no time flat, the joy of family has come to me once again.  

I am grateful beyond words.

Murses And Purses

I like being female.  But I don't know if I like carrying a purse.  Both have their complications, their compartments.  One is being.  The other is baggage.

Men don't carry purses.  Unless you consider those who tag along their 'murse.'  For those not up to date on the latest consumer must, a murse is a male purse.  We have a genderized name for it so we can sell it. Remember, we did sell you the hot ticket item of the 'pet rock.' And the Chia Pet.

P.T. Barnum was the ultimate salesperson.  He knew how to package it and could spot a sucker a mile away.  I don't think he would have carried a murse.

And he wasn't female. To be female is to have wholeness. You see things as inter-connected.  While I am sure all of this varies with the person, some being more connected and insightful than others, some having attributes more male than others.  It is all okay within the range of being human.  I imagine the same is true of males.

But I don't know if having a purse is a good idea.  It smacks back to the age of the dowry.  I didn't have a dowry and I bet you didn't, either. Purses weigh you down.  It is tantamount to toting your house with you wherever you go.  And, it hurts my shoulders.

Now if we didn't have a purse, where would we put our wallet?  Cell phone?  Pockets you say?  We don't like pockets because we have an image to uphold.  Pockets protrude out of pants and make hips and waist look unlike the touch up magazine models.

So this is my solution.  A tiny purse.  Carry only your essentials.  If you must reapply lipstick, leave it in the car.  Do your prep work.  Don't carry the janitorial keys.  Keep one or two on your key holder.  Think about pockets, too.  After all, who are you pleasing?

If I were male, I wouldn't be spending the time to share all of this with you, dear readers, would I?  I like circular endings.  I like being female.

Launch Pad

I am on the launch pad!

Tomorrow I buy my new home.  We'll sit at the table ~ all five of us and sign papers.  There will be the usual requisite chit chat making it a congenial passing of the torch.  I'll be the third single person in that house.  Yes, all of us have been single. First, a female, then a male and now another female.  I'll be in that house much longer than the rest.

It isn't a stepping stone.  Or a career move.  It's just home.  Mine.

Today, I meet with my realtor to do a final walk through.  The house is to be cleaned today and I hope it will be a really thorough cleaning, cabinets, garage, etc.  If that is the case, I will cancel my cleaning service scheduled for tomorrow afternoon.  There is nothing like moving into a home that is immaculate and freshly cleaned.  The former is the current state and the latter will put a smile on my face.

I'm a Mainer now.

On Writing

Writing is an intimate form of communication.  It's like that slow dance that says it all without a sound.  You just know.  

When someone takes the time to read your words and understands where you are going with them (sans the grammar) or better yet, risks going on the adventure with you, it takes you to a deeper level.  I've often felt sad when people don't see the beauty in words.  It is a kind of music.  A Stradivarius (violin) reaching a sound so eloquent that only a few have an ear trained to embrace it.  

I have shared a lot of my work with you my readers.  Some pieces are better than others, some may touch a soft spot within you.  Some may go completely over your head because there isn't a place in your present bodymind to absorb it. Or maybe it just doesn't resonate with you at all.  

Writing exposes a lot about the writer.  I like sharing this with you.  Some take the time and write me back and you know, I always answer your notes. 

But if you can't come from your heart, or risk getting close to another, than you are leading a solitary life. That works for a lot of folks.  But I somehow believe the words, the pages find a place in your bodymind. Maybe stored for a time when it isn't so painful to remember.  

Maine!

I'm a Mainer.  Now.

This week, I move into my new home.  Beyond excited on many levels.  First, there is less maintenance.  Second, I love the openness of the house - new everything!  Third, it is smaller, well designed.  Fourth, I am among people again!  Okay, the latter does have its pluses and minuses.  But, there are lots of organizations in the area that have roused my interest for a while.

Thursday is the walk through. I'll do a look through,and take some measurements .  Friday is the closing and then I drive to the new house.  There is a lot to unload and place throughout.   I always enjoy a few days before the furniture arrives.

That way, I walk through the house, introduce myself and get to know it.

It is going to be so nice.  A new home, family in the area, the ocean.  Does it get any better than that?

Lecram

Night came early on the mountain.  I'd been working outside all day.  Between the dirt in my toes and fingernails and on my face, I was glad to be finished.  I'd been moving plants in the garden most of the afternoon.  The sun baked everything.  I was happy to go inside and shower.

Sitting down at my desk and watching the sun drop behind the mountain, I opened the Mac laptop and decided to surf.  Somehow I came upon a senior chat room and thought I would give it a try.  It was instantly friendly and welcoming.  A few nights later I went back into the chat room.  

Since I had been traveling it would be another two weeks before I went back in.  I was taken aback at how the room changed.  Sexual innuendos were tossed about like paperwork.  Nearly everyone seemed to be drinking to excess and couldn't seem to wait to talk about it.  I left the room quickly.

I didn't return for a few months.  When I did I met a couple of nice people.  The scenario repeated itself.  This time the room had moderators.  They were ill fitting people with control issues.  Chat was n't moderated well and it certainly wasn't balanced.  

Once again, I left until two months ago.  I thought I might pop back in to see if things had changed.  With the exception of one set in her ways woman, there were new moderators.  In this senior room, age 40 and up, the chatmaster allowed a thirty-one year old man from Turkey to moderate.  He was instantly friendly, PMing most of the room from what I heard.  He seemed to PM women.  I didn't mind hearing from him because he intially sounded interesting.  But that changed quickly.  

He said that no one liked him.  That they treated him with disrespect.  I was taken aback that he mentioned these folks by name.

But let's make it clear:

You are a pompous dictator who is socially inappropriate. Evil prospers when good people allow someone like you to be in charge.  All that is missing is your military uniform.  

Thursday Thinkings

This is my last Thursday in my house,  I am still struggling with the thought I won't be here any more.  What is a house anyway?

It's different when you get older.  It rings of familiarity.  Yourself.  When you are younger, you are so busy taking care of everyone that you don't really make friends with your house.  Sure you clean it, you maintain it.  You like it to look nice.  When you move away from it,you take your busyness with you,  there is no sadness.  There is your family who go into the car with you to travel to the new place.  They enter the new home with you.  In that new place, everyone is loved and cared for. There is no looking back. More busyness.

It is different now.  I am older.  Single. That makes all the difference.  And a house is a home.  My home.  Where I belong.

My new home will be one where family visits more.  I will make more family meals, watch my grandchild. I will take much better care of myself.  Whole Foods is close. My kids will be here more. It will feel like family.  The memories created here will last a lifetime.  It will feel inclusive.  It will be inclusive.  It won't be just me anymore.

Soon.

We Will Get The Kids Out

The first thing I did this morning when I awakened was to check on the Thai soccer team.  These past few weeks have found me with so much emotion.  The minute I was the kids were safe it happened.  I wailed.  And wailed.

I'm always the dreamer.  Wanting people to work together for a common goal.  To make things better for all of us.  No hierarchy.  Just people finding their way.  The Thai people did just that.  Of course they have the usual cultural idiosyncrasies.  If they don't know something they will respond that they do.  And they sure responded this week.

They responded along with hundreds of others throughout the world.  People were in trouble.  Children.  The creme de la creme assembled, putting together their skills and expertise.  There were no egos, no nationalities.  Just loving people gathered to save thirteen people.

Loving kindness is a Buddhist tradition. It was surely practiced this week.  Even the military fed the news folks, a rarity these days, along with the myriad of divers, emergency crews, people from all over the world.  There was no thought to money or ancestry.  They came to help.  They had a mission.

There was also another man who made a promise.  He died during a flash flood putting out supply tanks.  He was a highly skilled diver, athlete and all around loving young man.

In loving memory. 💕

"We will get the kids out."

- Saman Kunan, former navy Seal diver, who died while saving others

Home For Sale

Next week I move.

It took over fifteen minutes with my 'communication' company for internet to cancel services.  It took another $9.99 cancellation charge.  WHO charges to cancel service?  Are you kidding?

Why would I ever recommend this service?

This is indeed the longest goodbye.  They say when you are sad to leave a place it means you were meant to be there.  For how ever long you were.  My heart is full of gratitude.  I love this place!  I can't hold back the tears.  Am I really moving?

I can't go into a restaurant, Lowe's or the grocery store without seeing someone who calls me by name.  I do love living in a small town.

Today, the sign went up.  The realtor, who is beyond lovely, came to my house to check on me.  She knows what this means to me.  I have known her for some time.

It's happening fast now.  I have said my goodbyes.  Mostly.  There are some I can't say goodbye to. It is just too painful.  My life has changed.

There was a lot of love here.

Home for sale.

Summer on the Maine Coast

"Come, it is time to go."

I stood at the precipice of a new life.  While everyone was sharing their bucket list, there only had one thing left I really wanted to do. Just one.  I had done all the others. Gone to England, Scotland, Wales. Canada. Mexico. Switzerland and Austria.  Italy.  Germany.  Alaska. Many trips throughout the United States.  In fact, all states but Nevada and Hawaii.   Hiked and rafted some beautiful places. Now it was time to fulfill that one final wish.  At least for now.   To live near my family.  Again.  Now and forever.  It had been too long.  This fall, I would turn seventy.  Yes, it was time.

Two years ago,  I began to think of doing another family trip.  I had taken my children and their spouses/partners to Newfoundland in 2008, before the grands came along.  Now, I would do something special to celebrate my seventy years.  It would be a marker.  Mine.

I've poured over maps and travel guides, localizing the trip to the United States.  Summer was the time to do it as my grandchildren would be off school.  It would be warmer and easier for all of us to travel.  As much as I searched, there wasn't any place I wanted to be.  The choice became clear.

When one of my children relocated to this area, I spent a lot of time looking for an area close that would resonate with me.  The house had to be perfect.  Smaller.  One floor. One step.  Close to everything but near a wooded area. Close to the beach.  Close to Whole Foods.  A coffee shop.  City.

An open house, cathedral ceilings, radiant wood floors, two or three bedrooms, two baths would fit this nicely.  Then I had a dream.  A name kept coming into my head during my dreams.

The realtor suggested we try one more place.  As we drove up to the dead end road, there it was. The name on the street sign was the name in my dream!

My bungalow.  Almost instantly, I had found my Maine home.  Trash and mail at the door. Again.  But I wasn't really in the suburbs.  I was at the outskirts of a city.  Open spaces, city, burbs.  How did I manage that?

Well, I didn't.  I sure didn't have much to do with that divine calling.  I am merely the very happy participant.

My summer on the Maine coast is just around the corner.  And in my daily life. I'll be home. Soon.

House For Sale

My house is up for sale.  The market looks good.  This week,  I signed paper after paper.  Each time the ink met the paper, a few memories surfaced.

There is still much to do.  The photographer has been here.  Soon, someone comes to measure the house.  This is a warm and loving home, lots of natural light. Lots of space.  Openess.  The views are scrumptious!

I am going.  Soon.  It isn't easy. Oh, it is not easy.

It is no wonder I got up at 2 a.m. today.  Moving and the fact I am sleeping in a twin bed.  It is a comfortable bed but I like more room.  It isn't my yummy place, either.  Not anymore.

Soon, I will have a new yummy place.  I will make one last trip north. I'll be meandering in Vermont, no doubt as I absolutely love the state.  As a child, we vacationed the second and third weeks of July.  Every year.  Now, I am not too far away.  I can return to my yummy new home.  It will take time to acquaint myself but in a short bit, we will become life long friends.

Yes, future trips will mean an airplane.  I'll be traveling again very soon.

Oh, I am really getting excited!

The Entourage

I don't want to leave.  I just want to be home.  Anyway, I can't be gone too long.  Between the realtors, phone calls, photographer, mover, estimator, paperwork collector, broker, I need my desk.
But I don't want to go anywhere anyway.  Maybe that is a symptom of loving a place so much you just want to breathe it all in.  In the place where you grew.  Home.  At least for a few more days.

Several friends have called wanting to take me to lunch.  It is hard to go.  Hard to say goodbye. Some I probably won't see again.  Others I sure hope to.  So what do I say to a life of seventeen years in the mountains?  I won't be saying the words, 'goodbye.'   I don't believe in goodbyes.  My friends are always in my heart even if I won't see them for a while, for for the rest of my life.

Seventy does that.

The photographer just left.  The drone photographer may have already taken the video.  I suspect I will know when the photos are on the realtor's website.  She was terrific at staging, moving, rearranging.  She made what could have been painful easy.

Someone comes to do measurements next week.  Apparently they prefer to do their own floor plan.  They didn't seem to want mine.  I am happy with that.  One less paper to find.

So here it is - Friday.  It used to be my weekends were full.  Lots going on.  I don't mind so much these days.  It is a different life. I wanted quiet. I've enjoyed quiet.

I  plan to change that in Maine.

Downloads

You are your own guru.  That doesn't mean you can't learn from others.  Caroline Myss is one such educator.  I have read her books and followed her work for decades.  Take a listen:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PnLO79JVSfo

The Conundrum Of All Your Relationships

"Because this is the conundrum of all your relationships: the manner in which you react to real or imagined wrongdoing. How you respond demonstrates your level of mastery - or lack of it. It's the basis for all your difficult relationships; for all atrocities and world wars."  

As many of you know, I am an experiencer.  The quote above is what was told to another experiencer during an encounter.  

I am not a fan of the Fourth of July.  I don't like 'bombs bursing in air.' Or, the noise or the celebration of a violent end which is supposed to signal a new beginning.  Fireworks frighten me.  They frighten other living things.  The only ones who seem to enjoy it are the ones unconscious.  When we awakened, we understand the full reality of this.  

Why do we celebrate war?  If we celebrated peace, we wouldn't be 'firing' anything. So invite over those nearest and dearest to you.  Have a red, white and blue festivity.  Be safe.

Baltimore

I'm a long way from Baltimore.  At least I thought I was until Thursday.  That day a disgruntled man killed five employees of a Baltimorean newspaper in nearby Annapolis.  I had been in Annapolis just the month before.  My high school classmate and I decided to lunch there and visit the shops.  These are the same shops, the same street where a vigil was held last night honoring the five who were gunned down.

They were gunned down because they worked for a newspaper that spoke about the shooter's criminal behavior. I've been thinking and have written about people who think and behavior differently than I. There are many levels of distance as well as many levels of acceptable behavior.   And, I can't change any of it.  I can only decide how I choose to respond to any of this.

From the uneven censorship in the town square of public opinion,  isolating myself seems to be the best way to get through all of this.  I am not much liking people right now.

It isn't easy being psychic, intuitive, and an experiencer.  Or a Scorpio with sun and moon in Scorpio.  I feel things way too deeply.  And, it is burdensome.

Tonight I am meeting a friend for dinner.  My friend's idea, definitely not mine.  The friend is great company but I am not great company these days. I am sad about the world.  Sad about moving.  Still in shock that I am finally moving, but, I will live closer to family.  Finally.  Too many emotions. On both ends!

So it is back to packing these endless bottles of liquid - shampoo, olive oil, lotion, you get the idea.  The movers won't move them so I shall.

It won't be long until I wave to Baltimore on my journey north.  You can't go home again.

Talk Radio: The Town Square

The other day I listened to a talk radio network I have enjoyed for six years.  A pattern has emerged on this network that includes ultra right guests.  For some time, I have thought about how to handle some of the mistruths and propaganda offered.  I watch the room and few have the gumption to stand up.

Their latest rant was on the wonders of Trump.  Now I surely don't think you have to address every idiot remark he makes but you sure don't have to listen to him.  I don't.  Won't.  Some actually believe he is the messiah.  That his visit here is timely.  That Trump was called in to shake us up.  That he will lead us to the promised land.  That is precisely what the right wing guest told us.  He thinks the messiah is one and the same man who separates families illegally coming into the United States.  A man who puts children in cages as young as toddlers.  A messiah you say? Really?

A woman chasing, thrice married man, who defaults on business deals, won't pay his contractors, can't keep staff, and puffs out his chest every opportunity he gets is hardly a messiah.  But what really bothers me now is the self-censorship imposed by these media-type outlets. It is a one way conversation and they will delete comments that are not in agreement with these guest or the host.

It can be argued that talk radio and chat rooms are essentially the public square.  A town square.  I remember a Supreme Court decision years ago that ruled in favor of the Town Square.  That people have the right to gather, speak their truth and can' t be censored.

Let me divurge a bit.  These same moderators or producers that censor the listeners do it unevenly.  They allow porn photos of women, or men because they are friends with these listeners.  Its the buddy buddy system.  They won't hesitate to delete your comment, ban you or call you out.  But these radio talk shows allow their hosts to objectify women with photos of them designed to attract your gaze.

Frankly, I am well nigh tired of this crap.  Speaking out doesn't mean you disrespect the guest or the host.  It does mean you call them out.  You address this crap and if you are smart, you leave.  But first you address this injustice.  You call out these lies and mistruths.  Ultimately, perhaps  the best way to handle this is to boycott their shows.  To every thing there is a season.

Ultimately, we teach people how to treat us.  Active or passive.

But Can I?

Can I summons the muse?

The vessel is empty.  Has been for some time.  Once in a while, you outgrow a place.  Your place in the place.  You long for different adventures.  To challenge yourself.  To go where no man has gone before.  Well, that is a tad dramatic, but you get where I am going.

Randy comes again today.  His fourth time hauling things away.  Hauling memories, joys, and lots of work in the yard.  I won't miss the latter.  Truth is, I want to do other things now.  It is time to jump back into the pot.  Mix things up. Stand up for another cause.

I admire those who stand up.  Some share their experiences on Fb.  Many share themself.  Selfies, I am, I am.  Those bore me.  But I love the nature photos and there are some amazing photographers and naturalists on Fb.

My thoughts drift back in time.  I think of all the people I have had the pleasure to learn from.  Helene in my late twenties showed me how to stand up in front of a large group.  Take my case to the people.  She saw things in me I didn't.  Or just maybe, she needed another warm body to carry the torch. I was glad to do so.

My english professor taught me to get at the crux of things.  To dig and take the reader and myself to another level.  I miss his mentoring.

But my grands continually teach me humility.  Patience.  That they are here for the first time as am I.  You are, too.  Have we already forgotten everything is at once new even if we don't feel it?

Humanity continues its struggle.  Egos get in the way, propel us, block us.  But a good friend, someone who checks up on you.  Wow, that is beyond priceless.  Like my friend.  She called the other day to see how I was handling 'the move.'  She wanted to know what she could do.  Reminded me that while she is tearful at my departure, she beams with delight knowing I am where I am supposed to be.  She is, too.

I think I am already begin to summon the muse.

Line In The Sand

Yesterday I wrote about Sarah Huckabee Sanders.  This morning I deleted her.

I have a line, drawn in the sand. It's a moral code and I won't break it.  It says that I will be kind to everyone.  I will also be firm about what is acceptable. Sure, there are lots of folks who would serve her, but I won't be one of them.  I wouldn't serve Hitler or anyone in his posse.  I want more than that.

Think of it as a kind of punishment.  It's a virtual form of being placed in stocks in the town square.  No one will throw tomatoes on you or hurt you even.  You will stand there with your cohorts as a reminder of everything we do not aspire to be.

But none of this is new. We've had a Joseph McCarthy, lying presidents, marital cheaters, lots of corruption in politics before.   We've had belief systems that continually shock me.  I do like to think we are moving forward.  At the same time, I do see the organized religious cult a big part of this behavior.  Yes, a cult.  Think about it.

You follow the herd, tithe as you must for organized religion wants money before it will bless your soul.  No, not me.  I've see what these behaviors do in the guise of religion.

It is a new world.  New ideas.  Open hearts.  Those are the people I will spend my time with.  I haven't followed the crowd yet, and at soon to be seventy, I do not plan to.  I will be kind to you.  And firm.

I expect more from humanity and so should you.

How Did I Know?

When I began this blog, something about water resonated with me.  It wasn't just because I was moving to New Hampshire.  It is because I find water healing. I knew at some point, I would move back. I have always vacationed in New England and I love the culture there!  Family is everything and I longed to be closer.

                                                          Hampton Beach, New Hampshire

The two years I had the New Hampshire apartment were fun, but it wasn't my own home.  Even though I was near one of my children, I longed to come back to the mountains, to my things, to my familiarity.

For many years now, the southern Appalachian mountains of western North Carolina have held me in their fold.  Somehow, I found the courage to leave an empty twenty-eight year marriage and relocated here.  My children had graduated from college, each one going toward their own adventure.  It was time I went toward mine.  And, I came here -  to the Great Smoky Mountains.  It has been a dream come true.  My gratitude for the opportunity to experience this adventure overwhelms me.  So does moving on to the next adventure.  While excited, I am terribly sad to leave.  Words can't describe what this beautiful area means to me.  It will always be in my heart.


If you know me well, you know I have always been drawn to nature, especially the mountains.  I grew up in Baltimore and spent a lot of my life around water.  Whether it was rivers, ponds or the Atlantic, water was in my being.

Maybe it was a natural expression for me to be to continually called to the mountains, to the sea.  I've been in the Smokies seventeen years.  I hope I have that much time by the sea.  But whatever it is, I am coming back to family.  It has been a long time since I have lived near my children.

We've all grown so much in these seventeen years since I have lived in the south.  Evn though, I have made countless trips to see my children, living close and having my own home near them is a dream come true.  And now my child has relocated to Maine.

                                                               Portland, Maine

In the weeks and months to come, I will share some of my photos of the new house.  It's a wonderful place.  Great room, open concept, modern.  Very New England and I love that.

I don't expect to be able to do the Utah trip I have dreamed about for years just now.  Perhaps next year I can work it out.  It is a culmination of a summer spent in a small Mormon town in Ephraim. and the life that ensued afterward.  I was there at seventeen and have longed to go back. The town has changed immensely as have I.

While you can't go home again, you can revisit a place of your youth.  You take your own good, loving thoughts and re-experience the area and yourself.

Can I really be turning seventy this fall?

Seventy

Seventy.  That's a lot of years!  It's only been lately that I feel my history is a long one.  Laughing as I say that because I've always felt young.  Vibrant.

I told my children and close friends that this year would be something special.  That I was going to take a trip.  It would be a year of big change but I didn't know what that would entail.  Exactly.

Where here it is!  I am moving to coastal Maine!

Now if you follow my rants, you will know that I am a lifelong activist.  Justice in all its forms is top of the list.  I don't want anything hurt or abused.  We are all in this world together and must find a way to cooperate better.

How curious is it that I am moving from a less progressive area back to what is familiar.  But I have never lived in a city before.  I have lived just on the outskirts.  Now I am a ten minute way from just about everything I need.  And, a Starbucks.  I prefer a little coffee shop but hey, I am grateful to be able to sustain my vanilla latte habit. Plus,  I've always lived near ideas, progressive towns.  It seems fitting that I go back.  My little coastal town is all of that.  Very open, very progressive.  They take recycling seriously.  The environment, too.

I will miss my little southern Appalachian town immensely!  I did the first time I moved to New England.  But this time is different.  I will have my own little house on a street surrounded by preservation land.  Just a fifteen minute trip to the ocean and voila.  Twenty some minutes to family and all the downtown charm and wharf I can handle.

Do you understand that I absolutely love my new house?  It is my dream house.  Cathedral ceilings, arched doorway, open concept in the living, dining and kitchen areas. Lots of closet space.  Well designed and lit. I even have a covered front porch, just perfect in size.

Now to sell my little southern Appalachian house to someone who will love it as much as I!

Another Adventure Awaits!

How do I put into words all the emotions that are running through me? A lifetime of memories.

Seventeen years ago, I moved south to live my dream - to have a mountain home in the southern Appalachians.  I would be Heidi on the mountain.  All grown up.

This has been an incredible journey.  I've met so many loving people, became part of a town that was going through lots of changes.  Got involved in many non-profit organization.  I did what I always do wherever I live.  Volunteer.   And, I've been honored and am so very grateful to all the people I met along the way. I've made some lifelong friends!

Some of my friends have passed.  I think of them often. Some moved away.  They, too, are always in my heart.  Then there are the acquaintances.  Those are really hard to leave because you know you won't stay in touch.  But the ones near and dear to my heart - wow, that is tough.

I got a dear note the other day from a friend.  The friend knew how hard it was for me to be away from my grandchildren.  They knew sometime I would eventually move closer.

"I don't want you to go," my friend said.

We shared some memories.  The tears refused to stop. The tears say it all.  Other friends have called, written notes, asked to meet for a meal.  Between taking things off the wall, trying to figure out how I can get some needed essentials in my car which I won't have access to for a while is a challenge.  But I will make it work.  I always do.

My daughter lives in an area I really like.  Not too much in the winter, although snow is beautiful.  But, the state moves. It is well prepared for the snow.  Two hours after a storm, the roads are packed with automobiles, people going about their day.  But, the summers.  Oh my.  There is no place like Maine in the summer. And, I do my best watercolors by the ocean. Always have.

But my next adventure includes my family.  And, it has been twenty years since I owned a home near my children.  Now I will live near one of them.  I am also much closer by plane to my oldest, too.  We are all in such a good place.  Settled.  Conscious.  Arms wide open.

In eight weeks, I have been on eight planes.  It will be nice to do a road trip - all 1100 plus miles.  Soon.

Let the adventure begin.