Reflecting as 2020 ends, and like every year before, there were things that were not fitting or without pain. Unimaginable loss, and heartache. Health challenges, financial difficulties, and that which was unexpected. But what are we grateful for? There are many moments, trials, and experiences that have also bought life, joy, and an ability to overcome those very incidents that were not favorable.

Perhaps we should not look at 2021 as an entire year ahead, but rather live each moment as stepping stones, leading to an opportunity. We really do have the strength within to defeat what challenges we encounter. Some will require more strength than they knew they had, but when confronted, each has the ability to make a stand and prevail.

The elders in our families did the very same. They lived, and they told us their stories. Each family had it’s story of adversity and suffering, many only remembered that, but each story also had its achievements and successes. In reality; doesn’t it depend on the teller and the listener? How will you welcome your moments? Do not forget where you have come from, it cannot be changed, but it is in those lessons we learn. What matters most, is how you live now. You have been gifted with all the truths you have lived, and your story will be heard one day. Be the teller who showed the courage to overcome, so that those who listen are gifted the same.

For my family and friends, I am grateful for you and ALL that we share. If there is one word I could choose for each of us to live by, it would be PEACE.

I could feel it happening, but just as I was waking from my nap, I could hear in the distance, my husband at one’s wits’ end, asking me to unclog the sink.

I felt light. I could feel my feet swirling, almost in figure eight, dancing on air. My body swaying as you do when you are in a large vehicle transporting so many people that hold onto a rail, or the seat in front of them so they can keep their balance. Trying to avoid each other. Here, where I am, I was not holding on. I felt rhythmical. I didn’t force it, I adjusted and I just went with it. I could sense the shift in polarity between us. I didn’t belong there. Behind my closed eyelids, in place with my spirituality and my sprightliness, an incandescent light erupted . The light was not moving away, but shining like indescribable jewels in front of me. Brilliant waves of energy invited me to not only see but to participate. I needed to get off this vessel, that people needed to hold on to. I am not meant to hold on. UNBURDEN!

I was not alone. My body was light, I could feel my feet and legs elevated, my womanly docility was a bit heavier and took more energy to lift, but it eventually did. My arms were already free like dandelion seeds blowing in the wind. My fingers directing in the air as if it were conducting a symphony of energy waves. I wasn’t just giving, I also realized I was receiving, harmoniously. My hands were a gateway for my fingers that were moving individually so they could continue sending a code to my wrist that moved back and forth playing the waves like a piano. I could not hear, but the energy waves were bright, colorful, stronger and growing more vivid. Bursting, I felt lucid, light, free. Let me in I wanted to be in. I knew I was suppose to be there. My head was off the pillow, but I was pinned down at my neck. I couldn’t lift entirely. My shoulders were curved upward, like the hull of a boat. My extremities dancing slowly and patiently while they waited for what was holding me back, to join them. I could feel my neck was heavy. I was clenching, and my jaw could not escape what bound it. My tongue was against the roof of my mouth. Screaming inside, I wanted to shout to release this confinement but my throat was unable to. The waves calmed and let me know there was about to be change. I needed to fully submit to the energy, not control it. I could feel my jaw release. I swallowed as my tongue finally released off the roof of my mouth. I could feel my neck relax. My pursed lips opened, sensually, my mouth opened. I inhaled a long, deep breath. A breath that felt cleansing as it entered me. All of me. Though my full head and neck did not lift, I understood further I needed to be mindful of my self and let all go. Drift, float, explore, free myself, and go with the energy. BEFREE!

I am being offered a gift to travel with this energy. I could still hear Peter in the distant background, “The sink is clogged. Unclog the sink”. My palms together, reached up high, fingers effortlessly touching each other pointed upward like I was aiming to go higher, then, suddenly releasing and pushing away from each other like two of the same poles of a magnet. Their distance apart was the same. As the left hand moved, the right clumsily stayed beside but not connected. My hands descended and rested above my chest. They each spread open joyfully. I felt bliss and I smiled. I felt my mouth open and the corners of my lips spread as I took another refreshing breath, then exhaled a silent laugh. The waves were stronger, closer to me. My fingers met in a ball shape, rounded as if I was holding an apple, then the index fingers collaborating with my thumbs, positioned into a triangle . I felt the energy change. My dancing feet dawdling, while my legs followed to come in for a gentle landing. A portion of my head felt the pillow again, and my chest felt light. My hands now formed flat together, point toward my face and rest on my chest. They opened and my left hand rested on my right, over my heart. They tingled and began to feel my body beneath them. The energy waves were not behind my closed lids anymore, but in front of me. I could feel the air move. I could feel the energy explore me. My motion toing and froing, the undulation coinciding within me began to fade, yet I still felt the urge to connect. My eyes opened. I sat up. UNINHIBITED!

I got up and walked to the bathroom. I took my clothes off and let them drop freely to the floor. I turned on the water and stepped into the shower. My feet dipping in the pool of swirling crispness. My waves were strong again. I reached both arms up with palms pressed against the wall in front of me and I closed my eyes. The water fell vigorously and as it ran down, I could imagine a waterfall. I was in another time. My hair felt longer as the water ran cool down my back. My face felt warm as if sunlight was shining on me. I could hear the droplets bouncing off rocks, jumping from one to the other. Playing, splashing around like children in a puddle. Splashing each other. Playful, my water was present with me and wanted me to play, we were together and we would soon share more than just this moment. I could feel it caressing my body through my fingers. Together, they washed my hair, moving individually and playing together on my scalp. Gliding down slippery strands, some water released into the reservoir below tickling my feet, while my fingers began to touch my forehead. Simultaneously, my index fingers curiously traced my eyes, as if they were exploring something new. I am new Slowly down my face, touched my lips, they separated craving, longing as the water and energy entered the openness. My head tilted back as the allied droplets naturally cascaded. I could hear distant laughter and singing as the water danced in my mouth. I suddenly froze, I realized I wasn’t breathing. I felt scared, I was constricting the energy and not allowing it to be free. Would I drown myself? Give In. Let It Be. Without further delay, air filled my lungs through my nose as it peeked through the waterfall like an open curtain. The water pirouetted against the back of my throat. It was healing. The water was restoring me from inside out. I could feel my neck relax. Water ran in and out of my mouth, flushing out what did not benefit me. Cleansing and purifying, readying me for what is to come. I allowed some to go down my throat, but just enough to swallow to and be in sync with the process. It was done. TRUST!

I could now feel the water against my shoulders and my hands, taking turns, caressed my body. My right hand moving down my left arm and back up. Thank you for accepting us My hand descended down my left side to my knees and ending at my feet then, my left hand began its journey on my right side, beginning its task to join the water with my body. Thank you for letting me accept you. I felt my hands up my legs and we met at my waist as we began to move towards the center. My hands found each other. My fingers interlocking knowing the space between them, was meant to be filled like two lovers finding each others souls. The hands, unspoiled, receiving new pure energy as one force, part and the fingers, each independent, began to slowly circle my stomach. Wait, no, not my stomach, lower. Lower. My fingers explored with purpose. Gliding lower lead by trails of water beneath each of them. I could feel the energy being sent to revive what I have deprived. Moving gracefully like a figure skater dancing freely on ice. Twirls, long smooth lines and caressing’s my womanhood. I was not shy. I was not embarrassed. I did not try to control my body or my thoughts. What was happening was connected through something stronger. Energy that had found me and welcomed me. I was able to free myself. I was ripening as my fingers and hands met again, pursuing up the center of my body over my chest, over my throat and caressing my pouty lips, I continued to breath this unknown knew breath. I wanted more. Each hand and fingers parted briefly, to playful dandle my ears, then met again at the top of my head. The water was graceful and fluent, I was aware of each entire droplet that came together as one. My hands reached up as high as my body allowed, vertically aligned. It was then that my eyes opened. Though my body stopped reaching, my energy continued at new heights within me as I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. I felt rejuvenated, awake and alive again. I was reminded of my gift and the energy that surrounds me. It is within me. HARMONY!

I dried naturally while walking naked into the kitchen where my husband was. I held him and we began to dance. Surprised, he laughed, but went with the flow. Our flow was in this moment. I looked into his eyes then we kissed. “Babes, what sink was clogged?” He looked puzzled. He said no such thing.

Perhaps today, ‘this world’, this chaos, that is not in sync with our being, clogs our minds and we fall off the path that what we are intended to journey on. We forget to play and explore for fear of what other’s may think. We need to remind ourselves to stay on course and recognize all that is gifted to us, without losing our love for self and our beautiful, uniqueness. EXPERIENCE!

Four years living along the river in a small Florida town was the answer. The river was going to be the very thing that inspired me to write. The river that bought much wildlife and peace, also bought ignorance, disregard and imbalance. I was not inspired.  I spent much energy trying to make my husband happy. He was, when he was my husband.

Today, the day after our four year wedding anniversary, Today I am breathing fresh air. The mood is currently stable. Albeit, this morning there was a bit of turmoil. Things get taken out, reorganized and put back. Usually only one or two minor items change spaces, but the constant flow of an idea, processing, cause and effect, continue and the move unnecessary. Continue Unnecessarily. Two very different personalities have very different needs even when they are the same person, wherever you are, at any given moment.

The weather in the Catskill Mountains of New York State is perfect this August afternoon. The air is crisp, the air smells renewed. The landscape and vibes are exactly what I expected.  My husband and I left for a mini road trip in July. The mountains have always spoke to me. Water is my element and when both are combined, I feel my soul dancing in the stream as the water rushes over a large boulder it Pliés and twirls atop the surface. My soul joyfully frolics from limb to limb on the tall oaks that border the bank all the way up to the evergreens on top of the highest peak of the mountains until I can float on the clouds. My soul is light and carefree. My silver and purple hair shimmer in the sunlight as it blows in the breeze. I am inspired. I am whole.

This is the first time this year that I am not walking on eggshells, waiting for the change, anticipating the next move and how I will retort. I believe it is as well, the first time this year my husband is not concerned about his Dementia. We are in the moment. That is all we have. Truly, any other philosophy, is such a waste of precious time. “Honey where is the ax?” (One of the items that changed spaces earlier. In an instant, another moment begins.

As I lay on the forest floor looking up, arms at my sides, palms up, I surrender myself to the nature I do not understand or of the unknown outside this canopy above. Fear. I fear spiders dropping down, the dogs getting lost or attacked by a bear, coyote, or other creature howling in the distance. Snakes slithering over my bare feet.

Branches extended off limbs similar to my fingers at the end of my arms. I feel a connection. I submit to you. I cannot control what is. I take a deep breath beneath the long pines, oaks, and palms and I exhale all the fright. A leaf falls from where it was once secure. It does not hesitate. It twirls gracefully like a ballerina on an endless stage. Floating weightlessly until it lands. It does not fear. It does not end there, for the wind will carry it again and again all the while decaying during the journey. A new bud will have taken its place and renewal and growth begin. Each will fall different than its predecessor and each will inevitably deteriorate being replaced.

 But what of the tree itself I ask? Strong and bearing. Purposeful for reason, unlike the others. Am I the tree? Simple in form but complex in function. Unavoidably I too will decay, providing my own purpose as I get closer not to the end of duty but the delightful return to earth. Fertile continuum, new life, new purpose, no fear.

WHY DO WE DIE? As I stand on the dock holding a dried long stem rose, I reflect on the events that led me to this moment….

In December my dear friend Christine posted something on Facebook. I don’t actually remember the exact comment, but the words Artist’s Way jumped off the screen and smacked me in the face. I reply; “The Book?” “Yes the book.” Something in me stirred.

I had just recently held my copy as I packed up my cherished possessions while preparing for the sale of my house that once again my memories and the book were tucked away.  Buried along with my postponed dreams of being a writer. The book, recommended in 2006 by my then creative muse, Dennis, an artist friend and a musician, had been tucked away for years, until 2011 when my grandmother died. I had taken the book out with hopes of living my dream after she passed away. I had to make sense of her death. Why do we die? So many wonderful things had been said about her. So many people’s lives she touched and so many she generously gave all she had to offer. She had purpose.  I had three wonderful children. I had amazingly supportive family and friends while I went through the end of a failed marriage. The thought haunted me, WHO AM I? I want to write a book about my experiences but I suppose responsibilities took the reins and though I dabbled into a few morning pages and an assignment or two, just like the past, the book was tucked away while I withered deeper into this empty space I called life.

December 26^th. I remember clearly because this ironically was the day before my friend Dennis’ birthday. It pleased me.  He inspired me then and Christine awoke what lied dormant. With an eagerness I ran to the spare bedroom to dig for my treasure. Enthusiastically, I ripped off the lid of the tote box and pulled out the book that was laying beneath unfinished journals that I started when I was pregnant with each child.  Though I wrote regularly then, the entries became sporadic over time, there are barely enough words to share from all the years of my pride and my love for them. I was scared. I held the book against my chest. WHO AM I? Why now? Is this just another false hope? Another reminder that I failed? I flip through the pages and there was a photo of my beloved grandmother, my best friend for so many years, attached to her obituary. A reminder to me of who I want to be like. Against this page of endearment was a single long stem rose. I shared a brief summary of this happenstance with Christine.

The day of my Grandmother’s funeral, I took a rose before we closed the casket. I wanted to remember her face (and unwillingly the forced image of Dean Martin who was there beside her in an autographed 8X10 framed version of her true love) while I knelt beside her with our rose, I kissed the index finger of my right hand, caressed the rose and touched my heart and then pressed my finger against her lips. –Silently- Good night Grammy Doodles, tucking your blanky under your chin, kiss on your forehead, happy dreams, I love you infinity.  *ALRIGHTY * How I will miss saying our goodnight routine knowing this would be the last time. Even more, not ever hearing your voice again. I stood up and didn’t realize so many were tearfully watching me. They all knew she was my best friend.

I stand on the dock and toss first the leaf and loose petals that separated over the years into the air. They disbursed in different directions. For a brief moment, I was troubled. In my mind, a few days ago, I decided this to be my artist date, the scenario I imagined was of them staying together and drifting along as one.  Naturally it didn’t go as planned though most did meet my expectations, two did not. One was blown against a cypress knee and scared a brown anole. As the other flew backwards and onto the dock, I picked it up extended my arms out and twirled as I laughed and released it again. Each parted in different directions and different speed on the river as if each carrying all the memories like a timeline of this wonderful woman’s life made to be shared infinitely. The toughest part was yet to come yet I need to do this. I feel like this will unlock all that has held me back.

With our long stem rose in my left hand, I caress it with the same index finger I used on our final goodnight kiss. I took it with my right hand and gently pressed it on my heart and took a breath knowing this was the last time I would touch our flower. The flower that held me captive as the single most physical loving connection of my Grammy Doodles.  In the warmth of the sun, I raise it high. The backdrop of a clear bright blue sky brings me peace. The glorious song of the birds make this moment a magical tribute. Serenity. On my left, the branches of the Big Ole Cypress hang over the river. Spanish moss dangles low, dancing and swaying in the breeze to the music of this final dance. I let the wind catch the once vibrant velvety red petals. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until the rose fell on the river creating a ripple that embraced it. I exhaled watching the energy disperse larger rings spinning it and allowing it to move with grace. The rose spun as it drifted, rotating until the compressed bud led the stem. I watched it flow as did the tears down my cheek until I couldn’t see it anymore. I’ve held onto this flower as if I was keeping that day from being final. When I was young, I use to think death was the end. As I grew a bit older, I believed that death became new life. Today, as the river flows and transports that single flower I preserved in my possession for all these years, I realize I have blossomed.  I am free. I understand that life and death are one. The day we are born, we begin to die. The question is not Why Do We Die, but rather HOW DO WE LIVE?

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton