Blue Cottage on Christmas Tree Hill

She was born in 1920
Stately
Graceful
Pristine

60 stone steps
take me to her door

Wild turkeys strut through the trees
and fly up to the roof like drunken stones

The little red fox appears
and keeps and eye on me
before he disappears into the night

The hawk does a fly-by
to make sure all is well
As the deer munch on grasses
peering at me out of the corner of a doe eye

Miles keeps me company
and heals me with his kneading paws on my knotted stomach
This cat knows his stuff

I am alone
while surrounded
by sacred animals

Storage

The key fits into the silver metal lock like a perfect lover

Click

The yellow door swings wide on its metal hinges
The smell snakes and swirls up
into my nostils
Like the pink smoke from I Dream Of Jeannie's lamp

The smell of 30 years
of collected stuff
Thousands of photos
Turkish tea pot
Thai elephants
Indian saris
Italian plates
Tax returns
Marriage licenses
Birth certificates
Piles of costume jewelry
My favorite sauce pan
Millions of words
on the pages of notebooks

My life
behind the doors
of locker number 926

Writing From The Soul - Rescued From The Trash

10 minute writing exercise.....

Rescued from the trash….the first one is always a little hard to get started. Like the engine of my car on these cold winter mornings in Utah. Warming up the fingers…

Rescued from the trash..hidden under the boxes and glad bags and apple peels. What is hidden there? Hiding beneath the other garbage so that no one sees. It doesn’t want to be seen but yet wants to be rescued without saying a word. Hiding but wanting to be seen and rescued.

She is small and quiet and cold and hiding. She doesn’t know if she wants to be found. But she does. She wants to be rescued from the trash, and not be a piece of the trash and more.

Unveiled and unhidden and known and seen. In all her glory. She is love. She is a goddess and she is ready to rise from the trash like a phoenix from the ash trash. Let her out. Let her be seen. Let her be all that she is already. Just peel away the trash from around her and she pops out like a stripper from a birthday cake. Ta daaaa….. Sequins and fishnets and heels shining as she steps gracefully down from the mounds of sweet icing. She is sweet and grace and love and she is here ready to be seen. Ready for her debut!

Rescued from the trash are my writings that almost didn’t make it. Hidden in the verses is my soul. The words just seem to be words until I read them out loud and then I know. It connects me to my soul. The words from when I was 13. Such a strange time in ones life. All hormones raging pimples popping boys looking boobs sprouting. What the hell is going on? The song on the radio says it all. Chicago – If You Leave Me Now….

I knew it was important to write when I was 13 and now I’m glad I have the words to look back on. It’s a path, a story, of feelings, songs, paved with tears and lessons and loves along the way. Travels too. Around the world and back again. New languages, new food, new souls. It makes me whole. I’m getting antsy to hit the road again. It’s been 1.5 months in one place and I’m ready to go again. Feeling boxed in inside the room with the forced air heat to ward off the winter chill of the mountain air.

Gotta get someplace warm. Gotta be by the ocean again. Smell the salt air and feel the open minds of people in California. The mountains are good but not so much when I can’t get out in them in the brittle cold. I’m a warm weather gal. The cold chills my bones and makes them stiff as they wrap around my insides and heart. I need to thaw out. Get out in the mountains of Cali.

Writing from the soul

I started attending a Writing From the Soul group when I was in Bali, and now, thankfully we continue online. We meet on Sunday nights for a very powerful hour and a half. There are people in Bali, Canada, Equador and the U.S. in our little clan. We are given a short prompt and then we write for ten minutes. Not thinking, not editing, just writing from the soul. Not from the head. Hearing what our unconscious has to tell us. I close my eyes and type and the words flow and I don't even know what they are until I read it aloud to the group. It's been an amazing exercise and I am continually surprised at what happens. 

One of the recent prompts was "In A Place Where Trees Can Speak" 
This is what my soul had to say about that:

In a place where trees can speak it’s a magical forest. Where fairies live and flit around in the trees as the trees speak to them. They tell the secrets of the ancients. They know all the wisdom there is to know in the world. In this place the trees stand in a circle and share the truth of the universe. We only have to listen. It’s damp and mossy and warm there. I am enveloped in the trees. They hold me with their branches and warm me and care for me. They speak to me and tell me all I need to know. I just need to listen. To put my hand on the rough bark of the tree and listen to what they have to tell me.

The ancient souls. Keepers of the universe. The trees may laugh at us as we fumble through our lives. Thinking we know everything and that we rule this planet. We know nothing. But we are learning as we go. Falling down and making mistakes along the way. Skinning our knees and putting many band aides on the scrapes until we forget the mistakes we made. When the last one heals we forget. But how long before the scrape does not heal? We may have one scrape too many. Do we have enough band aides in the bathroom mirror cabinet? Enough salve to keep the bacteria out?

In a place where the trees can speak is where I want to be. They know their stuff. They write books and speak a beautiful soft whimsical tree language. It’s there is we want to hear it. The face on the trees…. Reminds me of the wizard of Oz. Magical place where trees can talk and dance and wave their limb arms and tell stories and warn us of our misdoings.

Let us sit in the center of the trees of wisdom. Gather and soak in the message. The meaning. The love the encouragement. We can do it. We can pull out of this mess. Turn the tide. Pull back from the edge just when we’re about to fall off into the abyss.

Listen. Listen to the trees. The bark is rough but the words are soft and silky and warm and inviting and enveloping. The roots are as deep as time. The first bit of time started with the trees roots and all that knowledge is soaking up in them. Dancing with the trees and the wind. Blowing the dust from out of my roots. I want to be a tree hugger. Why is that a negative term? We should all hug trees as part of our everyday existence. Maybe things would be different then. Holding hand with the trees. Listen to their language and their hearts. Wooden hearts. Not a bad thing for a tree.

Sundance Film Festival 2012

I've had a lovely week of seeing films at the Sundance resort. They have a small screening room and it's nice and intimate. Park City is where the bulk of the festival happens but there are hundreds of people there and one would have to be in the right energy zone for that. I started to go up one day last week but the snow was too intense.

On Tuesday I saw Mosquita y Mari - a lovely coming-of-age film about two hispanic girls in California.

Wednesday was The Comedy, a film about a group of privilged young men in Willamsburg whos inherited wealth "breeds indifference and recreational cruelty". Very troubling and very well done film.

Later that day was West of Memphis, an incredible documentary about 3 teens who were wrongfully convicted of killing three young boys in Memphis in 1994. They were released in 2011 and one of the young men was there for the Q&A. I was so inspired and impressed by him. He was like a Buddha. While in prison he did not see the sunlight for 7 years. He turned to meditation and study and had no anger inside him at all. He said he made the concious choice to not harbor poisonous anger and resentment that could and would eat him up. He chose to live in the present and make the most of his life. wow.

Last night I saw COMPLIANCE. A highly disturbing film based on actual events. A man called a fast food restaurant and claimed to be the police. He said that one of the employees had stolen money from a customer and had the manager hold her in the back room. He instructed her to strip search the girl and degrate her in many ways. The manager did everything she was told to do. It was unbelievable that someone could be so stupid and follow along so blindly. As the film progressed, many people got up and walked out. Angry and upset at the film.

At the Q&A, the filmmaker told us that this actually did happen. Over 75 times until the perpetrator(s) were caught. The man behind it was a obvious person with mental problems, but was angry because he wanted to be a policeman and was denied the job. The filmmaker was able to get the video recordings of several incidents and police records. It was absolutely incredible and made me think a lot about how we as human beings blindly follow along and do was someone in authority tells us to do.

I'm happy to be here in Utah during this time. The festival is an important event in the community and gives us all a chance to appreciate great art in filmmaking and expand our personal horizins and perspectives.

Utah snow

I am enjoying my time in Utah. We got the first major storm of the winter yesterday and it was a good one. I was on my way up to Kamas to see Taylor and Julian and about one mile into Provo canyon, everything changed. It was raining when I left and suddenly it was a white out blizzard and there were cars spinning and off the road everywhere. Red and blue police lights whirled around and tow trucks pulled smashed cars out of the river. That's when I turned around and came home. Sad not to get to spend the day with family but not worth the risk. Later on the news I saw that they closed the canyon completely.

I decided to go to a movie and ran into some friends there. Their daughter works at the theater and they were kind enough to give me a complimentary pass. Later I went to a sushi place and had tea and yummy food and wrote in my journal and perused the Sundance Film Festival catalog. A lovely afternoon before coming home and relaxing in a nice warm house.

I am feeling lots and lots of gratitude for many the blessings in my life.

Happy 2012!!

I had the privilege of ringing in the new year with my dear friends - The Goodwill family who I've known for more than 20 years, in downtown Salt Lake City. We got a beautiful room at the Grand America Hotel and had a lovely time. Our other friends Craig and Lance joined us and we had dinner at a sweet little place near Pioneer Park called Tin Angel. We all laughed and talked late into the night and munched on delicious. local organic food and wonderful wine.

We got back to the hotel in time to watch fireworks being shot off all over the Salt Lake Valley from our 21st floor view. I couldn't imagine a better place to be to celebrate this auspicious beginning.

In the morning we had yummy breakfast in our room while we talked about the year ahead for all of us.

We went over to Craig and Lance's beautiful home for a meal of home made soup and sandwiches while football games played on the tv as background entertainment while we chatted away.

I feel honored to have known these friends for such a long time and to have had so many crazy wonderful adventures with them so far.....trips to the wine country, countless parties that they have thrown, concerts, plays, movies, but mostly fabulous parties throughout the years. We have watched our children grow up together, and now Craig and Lance are raising their own beautiful twins who are 8 years old now. Our shared stories are what we have and they are good ones!

My heart is full of blessings and optimism as I move into a new time on earth. It feels to me like a time of reawakening. A time of taking it to the next level. A rebirth of sorts....evolution. There are things that must be done this year that have never been required before. An awakening is taking place for all of us here. Things are shifting and evolving at a molecular level and beyond. Are we ready? The train is leaving and it's best if we're on it.

Jai Jai 2012!

Devan and Grandma Pete

Kelly, Devan, Pete and Amber - New Years Day 2012

a sunshiny day at the park

Playing at the park with Nana

gorgeous day at the park

Julian is loving being outside

Making cookies with Nana

Happy Holidays!!

I've had a lovely little Christmas here in Utah where the weather is cold and clear. No snow yet. But I sure am having a good time with Julian. I would travel to the ends of the earth for him.

I am being quiet today, nursing a sore throat and reading some chapters from "A New Earth" by Eckhart Tolle. I'm also setting my intentions for the important year ahead...2012...it's gonna be a big one for sure!

Julian all snuggly warm

Hanging out with Nana

I saw Santa!!

Christmas eve at Craig's

Opening a present

Devan in the kitchen

Devan and Scott

Christmas dinner at Amber's

Christmas dinner

Amma the Hugging Saint of India

I first heard of Amma about 5 years ago when my friend Youlanda told me she was going to see her. "She hugs people" is what she said to me. I found this a strange and beautiful concept back then.

Amma is a 58 year old woman from India. She is the epitome of compassion. She receives every person who comes to her, day and night and gives them all a healing hug. Her followers are huge in number and she now has many centers throughout the world.

When I saw that she would be at her center in San Ramon and that there would be a public program, I decided to go. I had no idea what the evening would hold.....

My friend Kenton and I met in the East Bay and drove to San Ramon together. We parked in the large lot of a hotel where a shuttle would take us to the M.A. Center. There were about 20 people there waiting for a ride there was crackly excitement in the air. Jessica, a young woman sitting next to me in the van told me about her experiences with Amma and how it had changed her life. She has done several retreats with her and gone to various cities in the US where Amma was speaking. She said we were there on a very special night because after everyone had received their hug - which would be sometime around 9 am (what?), Amma would perform weddings and a special ceremony that would include feeding the children.

When we arrived in the Center parking lot, we were unloaded and then loaded into another van that would take up the 1/2 mile to where the program was taking place. It felt like a great adventure. When we arrived, the first thing I saw was the biggest tent kitchen on the planet. A huge food production was taking place and the smell was of Indian spice heaven. People were lined up on either side of the road and we were told that Amma, (or Mother) would be driving up any moment. Everyone was very excited and soon were chanting and singing together. I felt as though I had been dropped into another universe. One that was colorful and exciting and smelled and looked a little like India. But with lots of green port o' potties standing in rows like soldiers waiting to serve.

We waited about 10 minutes and soon a small car came up the lane with the beautiful face of Amma radiating from the back seat.  She was dressed in white and smiled and waved as the car drove slowly past. The gates opened and the car disappeared behind them.

We were told that we needed to get a numbered token to exchange for a hug with Amma, so we set off in search of the token person, who we found inside the huge dining hall. There were probably 500 people in the hall snacking on samosa, drinking tea and talking about their various experiences with Amma. There was a big screen at the front of the room and Amma could be seen on stage in the Temple, which was not far from the dining hall. We were told that the temple was full and we could watch everything from there until our number was called. Looking around the room I noticed that there were all kinds of people there from every walk of life, it seemed. But the one thing that struck me is that the energy and excitement were clear and there was a strong feeling of love in the big room.

Soon it was announced that dinner would be served and we were asked to go outside and form a line, which moved pretty fast and soon we were back inside the hall with plates pile high with saag paneer, briyani rice, chickpea daal and naan.  It was beautiful and so delicious.

While in the food line, we met Vir, a Sikh man who had seen Amma many times. He was funny and we became instant companions. He told us that his sister was helping to set up the event and because of that he was able to see Amma when she first arrived. We saw Vir several times throughout the evening and at one point he introduced us to his sister, a tall, beautiful Indian woman in her 50's.

After our delicious meal, we walked over to the temple to check things out. It's a large hall with 3 sections of folding chair seating in the middle, floor seating in the front where live music was being played and people sat and meditated or prayed, and an upper floor with bleacher style seating.

The stage was elevated and lit up like a Hollywood movie set. There were lines of people on either side waiting patiently for their moment. Ushers helped to move the line along and large signs were held up showing the number of the current group.We waiting a few hours until our number was shown. Feeling giddy and excited, we went to the front of the room and proudly showed our numbers to the attendant. "Oooooo...so soooorry. This number has a Z behind it so it means you will be last in the group. It will be several more hours...." At this point it was almost midnight. We had been there for 5 hours, and now it may be 6 or 7 am before we get close to Amma. We weren't sure if we were up for it. Just then, Vir's sister appeared and asked how we were doing, and if we had our tokens. We told her we did and showed her the number. "Oooooooo" she said with a wobble of her head. "It will be some time before you get to see Amma....but if you don't want to wait, I can take you now, since it's your first time." A beautiful angel had appeared right before us. She was so kind.

She ushered us to the front and we were given instructions on what to do and not do when you are in front of Amma. We were taken up the steps and put into a succession of folding chairs, then as we got closer, we got onto our knees, and suddenly, there I was, in front of the hugging saint I had been waiting for all night. She was all in white with a silver crown-looking hat on her head. She sat in a simple chair with a yellow cloth umbrella high over her to protect against evil. She had a huge, loving smile for everyone. As I crawled closer, I suddenly felt hands on my shoulders, and then an attendant pushed my head forward into Amma's lap. As her arms wrapped around me, she leaned down and whispered something in my ear that I could not understand. In the next instant, I was pulled back turned around and ushered to the side of the stage. The encounter lasted about 5 seconds.

As I look back on this event, I realize that it was very important. There was so much love in that room that first came from one woman and radiated out into every person there. The love grew and expanded and surrounded us all and we were part of the chain. I felt great inspiration by what one woman who gives hugs can do in the world, and thought about what our world could look like if we all just embrace each other and share a smile and a hug.  And keep the hug chain going...

Shoot the Moon

In my dream
I am sitting under a gorgeous full moon
Off white
Huge and round
Shining down on me
Only me
Bathing me in his/her soft light
Like sweet white arms reaching around me
Holding me
Embracing me
I am connected to the moon
Our minds are melding

Then I watch in confusion as two streaks of light
Shoot upwards
Towards the moon
And hit it
Hard
The moon shudders
And shakes
And falls from the sky
It is no more
A profound sadness embraces me then

A Moby Dick Photo Montage

The living room

Favorite chair

The foyer

 Corner table where I did a lot of writing

The front gate

The front of the hotel

H

Yummy carrots in the garden

Some of the surviving chickens

The yoga yurt

Heading out to the sauna hut

Buddha

The bay behind the hotel

Trail out to the bay

The back of the Moby Dick with freshly mowed lawn

Antonio at work

Another Buddha

Sitting in front of a roaring fire on what is probably my next to last night at the Moby Dick. What a wonderful gift this has been.

As I turned on the gas of the left hand burner of the big Wolf stove, I thought about how many meals I have cooked in this kitchen now. I love turning on the music - Nora Jones, Dr. Hook, John Hiatt, Bonnie Raitt, The Beatles, Mark Cohn, Sippie Wallace, Billie Holiday, Bessie Smith, Neil Young, Bob Dylan and Jim Croce have kept me company while chopping vegetables and making various culinary creations.

Stir fry vegetables with brown rice, potato croquet stuffed with beet and carrot, pasta with fresh greens from the garden, pizza with broccoli, cauliflower, garlic and jalapenos, Indian butter chicken, samosa, fresh bean burritos made with Gail's homemade chile verde have been some of my favorite meals.

I like turning on the heaters in the living room in the morning while I make my tea and when it gets warm enough, I roll out my yoga mat and move my body while looking at the gorgeous green trees outside, seeing the cats come by, sometimes a momma deer and her baby wander through the yard and peer in the window to see what I'm up to. It feels so calm and peaceful while I'm practicing.

I have enjoyed exploring the Long Beach peninsula and beyond. Astoria has come to be one of my favorite places. There's a really good vibe there. I like the long promenade at Seaside and the endless beach and cute little shops. I have made friends with the ladies at the Ocean Park library where I spend time checking out movies and doing a little research on the history of the area. It's been fascinating looking at old photos of the house I'm staying in and seeing the parties and people and some of the same furniture, fireplace and pictures on the walls that are still here now. The mirror above the fireplace is the same. I am looking into the same mirror each day that people 80 years ago looked into as they sipped a cocktail and played card games around the fire.

I have come to look forward to Dean's visit almost every day. He started out being the gruff 85 year old guy who wasn't gonna take any crap. But as we talk each day over tea, he has told me much about his family; his wife of sixty-something years, his daughter and his son who was killed in a motorcycle accident, his grandkids and great grandkids. I know a little about each one. He has told me of his childhood on the farm and of raising his own family and how great he and his wife work together. She knows everything there is to know about gardening. He feels that he doesn't have a whole lot of time left on this earth, and that's ok with him. He spends a lot of time helping older people in their homes and he helps out at the care center. He has a very soft heart inside of a gruff exterior. He reminds me of my dad in some ways and I wonder if he can talk to his daughter like he talks to me. Sometimes it's easier to be open with strangers.

Antonio and I have developed a good relationship too. He teaches me words in spanish and wants to work on his english with me. He's always interested in what I'm cooking in the kitchen and despite him thinking what I cook is strange, he always tries it and he pretends to like it. He has a sweet tooth and I try to keep the candy bowl in the kitchen filled for him. But sometimes in the wee hours of the lonely cold nights, it somehow seems to disappear.

Antonio

Fritzi and Keith, the owners of the Moby Dick will be home tomorrow or the next day. It will be nice to meet them in person. I will thank them for this rich experience I've had in their historic home and in their community.

And my dear friend Minette....she thought of me when this opportunity came up and recommended me to the owners. She knew it would be a good adventure for me here, and it certainly has. An adventure with so many levels. Thank you from the bottom of my soul, Minette.

Coming Home

On this day, November 1, 2011 (11-1-11) I wake up very early and feel the need to write. The pen flows across the paper at lightening speed. I am not thinking, just writing.

I'm in my bed, in the Native American room at the Moby Dick Hotel, week four and I ask myself Why Am I Here? What has this last month been about? 

It's about hibernation. Quiet time. Resting. Gathering my strength and my courage. Ready to jump off to the next adventure. I have been spending time with Me. Loving myself. Trusting myself. 

The closer I get to my soul, the less far ahead my vision becomes. I don't need to see the future. The future is right now. The next moment. I enjoy each one. Each breath, each sip of hot rosella tea with slices of fresh ginger, each morsel of food that passes my lips, each sip of red wine and each square of chocolate. Each dish I wash in the hot soapy water, each page I turn of my book, each episode of Ally McBeal or Arrested Development I watch on the DVDs rented from the library. 

It's SO quiet here. Quiet quite unlike any I have ever heard. The stars and the trees, the ocean and the bay and the crow of the chickens keep me company. 

The fear that creeps into my mind and my stomach in the dark of night are here to teach me. I am strong. I am protected and I am loved.

How strong are my beliefs and my practices when I am alone? It's easy when I'm around like-minded souls, but when I'm alone for long periods, then the truth comes out.

And I like the truth that I see.