Thursday, September 29, 2005

the cards

A few years ago I was introduced to "the cards." They were beautiful, featuring angelic figures and winged fairies. And I was told, if you ask them (these angelic messengers from the other side) questions, with reverence and trust, then pull a card, they will provide guidance.

So it began as a sort of mystical fun game. I would get together with my friends Lynnette and Sally, and we would see what the angels had to say about one thing or another. Many times we pulled cards and laughed. They seemed to know the right answers, and if we were honest with ourselves, they only affirmed things we knew intuitively.

When I got my own set of cards, the game became more serious. With trust came a sort of compulsion to act on the guidance. This sometimes set wheels in motion that needed a push of the divine sort. I would pull a card that indicated a need to take better care of my body, so I joined a yoga class. This I found was a perfect exercise for me, since I wasn't one to go to the gym. Then later, a card would say "new opportunity," and a new contract job would present itself. And so it went for a couple of years.

Reverently pulling these cards became a part of my daily routine. Just after writing my morning journal pages, and just before enriching my soul with some inspirational reading, I would ask for guidance and pull from my deck of "the cards".

They became especially important in times of unease. Often the angels would let me know that they supported me, leaving me crying gentle tears and feeling their presence in my life.

Which brings me to Tuesday night. Filled with the excitement at the prospect of a new relationship, wondering about a old one, and feeling a little wanderlust, I consulted "the cards" for some insider information.

I was struck by the clarity of the message...they certainly affirmed what I think I knew all along. They reminded me that I had truly manifested good in my life, and they urged me to move forward fearlessly.

I was left with the overwhelming sense of peacefulness and joy, certain that I was on purpose. They allowed me to trust that my feelings were true, and gathered me up in their graceful wings while I smiled at their presence in my life.

As I write this they send positive energy and ask me to include the following: to everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven.

I'm not sure why they wanted me to write the above. Perhaps I should pull one of "the cards" to find out.

Monday, September 26, 2005


I feel like I'm in a time warp. Last Sunday, I sat on the sandy beach in Galveston. The sun was hot. Dolphins swam and frolicked in the shallow waters as I made new discoveries about myself. One week and one day later, I am here trying to remember every moment and wondering if it really happened at all.

Monday I rested on Sunday memories, smiling gently, and wondering about the possibilities.

News of the pending arrival of hurricane Rita changed everything.

By Monday afternoon, I had fueled my car, secured extra water for the me and the dog, visited the grocery store, and made preparations to sit tight while Rita approached the coast. The boy scout in me packed an overnight bag just in case. I spent hours on the phone, trying to decide if I should stay or go. The storm was expected to be dangerous - even catastrophic, and loved ones said, "get the hell out of there."

And so I flirted with staying and flirted with leaving for Austin and the safety of my sister's house. Unable to decide, I asked for spiritual guidance. "Show me a sign," I begged.

The sign came in the form of a ringing telephone, and a friend who needed a ride to Austin's airport on Wednesday night for a Thursday morning departure. Not one to argue with the Universe, I figured it was a pretty big sign and drove off into the night to pick up an eager passenger.

Just getting to the hotel to reach Steve was difficult, as freeway entrance ramps were closed to traffic to streamline the evacuation. Lines of idling cars clogged the freeways as residents fled north. After a quick trip to my apartment and some reassurance, I became an evacuee. Asking again for advice, I followed my gut, telling Steve to turn here or there as I checked the map. We inched our way to the back roads and off of the beaten path. This served us well, and though traveling was difficult and open bathrooms hard to find after midnight, we arrived in Austin, travel-weary, but in time for Steve to make his flight.

There was little time for goodbye. And he smiled and waved as he headed into the terminal and I drove into Austin.

The next few days were anxiety ridden as I became an addict - the news was my drug of choice. I watched and hoped that the weather would be tamed by some unknown force. I answered as best I could the questions of friends and relatives, and prayed for the safety of the people I love.

Saturday night...the shift occurred. Houston was no longer ground zero, but weary Louisiana was in the storm's sights. I rested better on my palette on the floor and petted the dog until we both slept.

By Sunday, I wanted my own home and my own bed, but was reminded by the national press that it wasn't my turn to go home.

This morning I buckled my dog into the back seat and started the engine of my orange Beetle. Not sure of traffic conditions or what I would see along the way, I headed home. I clipped along at 80 mph most of the way, and saw little evidence that the world had been forever changed in the passing of the previous week. The hot September sun was just as I remembered it to be. In Elgin, a sign warned of gas shortages ahead, but in Chappell Hill they were selling sausages as if nothing had happened. Just another Monday - I think not.

And this evening, I sit at my keyboard, my patio furniture back in place and the dishes draining in the sink. I hope the phone rings. The windchimes catch a light late-summer breeze. But somehow, the world is different. And nothing is as it was.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Creating a new vocabulary

Okay, I believe.

Those of like minds who shall remain nameless in this post have often said that the only key to manifesting what you want is to accept that it is truth. And though I believed it in theory, a piece of me had a hard time with it here in the third dimension. But somehow over the last few months of healing and taking back my power I began to see unmitigated evidence that it must be true.

The walls that held me from discovery and excitement, passion and emotional bliss have developed cracks big enough to walk through. And while they remain a little narrow, I've managed to squeeze through to the other side. And oh, how I'm enjoying the view and the fringe benefits.

For me the key will be to remain open and non-judgmental. I must refrain from falling into old patterns and place no boundaries or expectations on recent developments or relationships that unfold before me. While this is difficult, it occurs to me that it's simply more fun this way. And I find myself doing things I feared in the past, things that didn't fit my own perception of myself, things that were formerly "not okay."

What I've learned is that these things are not only okay - but can be amazing. And my old perception of myself was an illusion created to take the surprise out of life. As long as I stayed inside the allowable boundaries, I could pretty much be assured of secure and predictable results. "Secure" and "predictable" are words that I am at this very moment tossing from my repertoire. They will from this point on be replaced with the words "pleasant surprise" and "WOW."

And Steve, if you're reading this...Thanks for the pleasant surprises and the WOW. You're a great teacher.

Now isn't that much more fun?

Saturday, September 17, 2005

Saturday morning

I vaguely remember sleeping in on Saturday. Those precious extra hours of weekend sleep have been moved to afternoon naps, as my spotted roommate seems to get up earlier and earlier with each passing year. If he lives to be twenty, I suppose I will be awakened at two or three a.m. And so I find myself here before sunrise, surprisingly alert after a walk in the morning starlight and a the first sips of Major Dickensen's Blend.

What began as an ordinary work week with deadlines pressing, has somehow become extraordinary, and I have once again found a place in me I thought was lost forever. It was a week of discovery, of putting the past behind, of first kisses, a quickened heartbeat and what does he think obsessions.

This week I felt young and able, childlike and joyful. This week I felt strength return. Muscles that had gone unused reminded me that they were there indeed after a day of making boxes for the displaced evacuees and a return to my yoga class after 10 days of inactivity. This week I learned that a single person can make a difference, whether he's a volunteer from the northwest, the "Pop-A-Lock" man who saves you from the heat after locking your keys in your car, the sister who offers French Toast bagels, or the yoga instructor who calls to say, "are you okay?"

Sometimes, living alone, a person wonders if they really do have a place in the world. This week the Universe has answered "yes...and you're filling it nicely - just as you planned before your soul jumped into this body."

When I wonder about purpose, I realize I am a student of the Universe, with many lessons to learn and many teachers. This week new tools came from Ohio in a padded envelope, sent by one who knows me well; one I reflect. With these tools I learned that buffalo and butterfly, turtle and otter have messages for me.

Find extraordinary moments in ordinary days - is the message I am left with. A new journey of discovery begins and the map unfolds.

Thursday, September 08, 2005

random thoughts...

First thought...If we have the means to help the survivors of the New Orleans flood and Katrina by finding them subsidized housing, jobs, food, water, etc., then why couldn't or didn't we help the impoverished with housing, jobs, food, water, etc., BEFORE the hurricane blew in?

Second thought...I spent the weekend on the Frio River and thought it would be a peaceful weekend. I was wrong. What I learned it to be discerning about who I travel with, that alcohol abusers are NOT harmless, and that I'm still testing the waters when it comes to speaking my truth. What I learned is that I can be detached when necessary, and there is strength in that. And I learned that no matter where I am or how unpleasant the situation, I need only ask for protection from negative energy and help will fly in on angel's wings.

Third thought...Even when backed into a corner of the bottom bunk, there's nothing like your dog to make you feel warm and fuzzy.

Fourth thought...There are so many awesome places I've never been. The earth is a magical place and transformation is everywhere.

Friday, September 02, 2005


So I've had a few days to digest the news of the crisis on the Gulf Coast, and it has left me with a hole in the pit of my stomach.

My friend Joyce person at a time. Do one thing - don't look at the immensity. This has been difficult for me. I am overwhelmed. Tears well in my eyes, threatening to overflow every minute, and I hold them back and try to be positive, to know that there is purpose in this crisis. I do not ask the big question - what is the big purpose? But instead, what is the purpose in this for me?

As yet, this question has not been answered, and I wait to the hum of the television to find it.

What I notice most is the ever-growing gulf between the haves and the have nots. The detiorating social structure of our country and indeed the world. Those with means and money were saved from death and starvation. Those without were left behind. There is no malice in this, but the grim reality that we need to start taking care of one another. That there are those who need help everyday, those we choose not to see.

I am seeing you now...and in your struggle you have changed me. You are in my city, my town. You struggle to feed you babies. You struggle to find work, a vehicle to get you there, and you are angry, and are gaining strength like Katrina. When I think money is tight, I will think of you and know that I have more than I need and enough to share.

While a disaster like this brings the issue to the forefront - it is a symptom of an everygrowing disease. Perhaps the immensity of this is key to finding a cure.