New year's resolutions

As the old year goes, and the new year comes.

I wish to say thank you to the year as it passes.

It has been a year.

And what to say of it?

What kind of body would it have if given flesh and bones?

For me the first part of it would look like water, and music, and green branches, and so many other things, beautiful things, and not so beautiful.  It would have some darkness, for sure, and light, and stars, and rain, and clouds, and some thunderbolts. But mostly it would have a beautiful golden heart shining out through it all.

 It went by in a blink.

It felt like a year of magnification. Where everything was getting seen, more and more.

The good bits, and ugly bits.

Some very hard, bits. Emotional, and confusing. 

And yet.

There were many good aspects of last year. Many places of growth.

It was a year of nature, and of water, and sunlight, and learning to really enjoy the ground, and learning about myself in ways that were a bit painful.

A year, where, at times, I felt like I was able to see clearly.

So clearly.

And then. Not. And sometimes felt like I as feeling around in the dark. Trying to make the best of things. But terribly afraid, and confused.

Then it was also a year of giving some things up, and letting some things go.

A year of magic, and wonder, and some amazing synchronicitys. Of pulling together, and working things out. And learning better ways to resolve conflict, when it really could have gone not so good.

A year of music, and beautiful words, and thoughts.

A year of testing, with many tears, and difficulties, and challenges, with ups, and downs, yet there was always a white rabbit.

Something there. Something beautiful, and loving and good.

Something, someone calling me home to my heart.

And so, as this new year comes.

I hope to learn how to breathe in and out better. My sister is always telling me I’m holding my breath, always reminding me to breath.

And so. I hope to follow my breath, to quiet my mind, and open my heart, more and more. To use words in the service of spirit, to point to peace.

 I pray for truth to guide me.

Truth to be ever present, within and without.

Truth to be spoken.

To allow truth to be what is seen, and heard. To better discern the unity behind all things.

I hope to be a window though which light shines.

One that is clean, and clear.

I hope to let go of all things that I’ve gathered from the old years, that I’ve held on for too long.

To let go of attachments to outcomes, both good and bad, and to the fruit of my actions, and objects, and needing things to go a certain way.

To let go of the ego mind, and attachment to thoughts, and all the things that veil the heart.

To let go of needing to be better, or lesser.

To be centered in the I am-ness of life. The isness of the now.

To let go of those old wounds that I’ve carried too long, to release all the contractions that have kept me from flowing.

To let go, and let God.

To laugh more, and allow life to flow through me with ease.

To relinquish my fears, my mistakes, and judgments into the hands of a just and merciful God.

To find sunlight, and joy, in every space.

To see God's reflection in the souls of those who are put on my path.

To let everything be as it is, to not hold too tight, nor push things away.

And if there comes a challenge, to be so present, that God is there.

And if all these resolutions somehow become clouded, and if I forget, and if mind tries to bully its way in, I pray that Spirit would pull back the curtain, and let in the light, and heart would always overcome anything the mind throws its way.

To listen to spirit.

And heart.

And to have the discernment to follow, and uphold the highest frequency of love. To fully forgive myself, and love all the parts that I have pushed away.

Let this year be a year of healing.

Healing of the land.

Of body, and mind, and spirit, and heart.

Of the world.

Of individual parts, and collective parts.

Where spirit is leading the way, one present moment, one heart at a time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Finding treasures

Dear blog,

My dove just flew from the top of my laptop, left a feather, and then went to the lamp, and is sitting there so peacefully.

I just got a jacket on, as it is chilly in my room, and sticking my arms out of the covers to write is cold.

Yesterday, we had nine extra kids, from two families, of various ages, and four or five more adults all crammed into our house. Bess and I spent most of that time, outside with the kids.

We have five new baby goats, and kids had fun feeding all the goats treats, and helping us milk the moms.

Though, I did leave two kids milking one goat, because it gets very tedious watching new people milking milking goats, especially if you've already been doing it for a long time.

Five or ten minutes later I hear Acacia call out of help, only to find the goat had torn apart the milk stand, and it lay in pieces.

I was just glad the kids were okay. Acacia was actually the older kid that came on the scene, so I'm glad she was there.

Sheesh.

I had only been gone for a short while.

I guess the goat got stresses out. I still don’t quite understand how it happened. Only that one piece of the milk stand lay where it was, and the part where we lock the head in, lay right by the loader.

And the kids, with big eyes, pointing.

Oh my…

We also had a goat escape, and Bess led an expedition to retrieve said, goat, but it evaded escape several times, and flew over one of the kid’s arms, and sailed over a ditch. Clearing a lot of footage.

I was by the milk stand---before it was in pieces. And heard Bess and her helpers laughing hysterically, because of the flying goat.

I surmised, that I need to tell santa I have a bunch of reindeer in training for him, as three of them can fly.

Bess also brought a card game out to our beachfront, and had one of the kids playing matching game in the sun.

Two kids kept on searching for treasures around our house, as we do have a lot of odds and ends. Kippen (not his real name, but a name he gave himself and it stuck) found someone’s old slingshot, and old melted golf ball, a cute glass tile, and several other things.

We told him to keep the treasures, and he beamed, and jumped for joy.

My niece thought this was a great idea, and she began looking for treasures and found an egg made out of stone.

This was my sister’s she’d left outside, and she told my niece to keep it.

She was thrilled.

Then my other little nephew found some sea-shells, and they all had fun finding old items. Over years we always put stuff we wanted the kids to find under the trampoline because it’s really nice when you’re cleaning, and you find good stuff, but no longer want to store it. We know that eventually our nieces and nephews will find it, and take it home, with glad hearts.

Our little nephew, not so little, because he’s grown so tall, found two handfuls of gravel and asked if he could keep it. Bess and I inspected the rocks, and giggled, because they were very ordinary rocks. But he loved them, and he ran to catch up with his siblings heading to the park, toting his rocks.

                All in all, it was a warm enough day that the kids and the adults each had enough room to voom in their own directions. So it was nice for Bess and I because we could float in and out of where we needed to be, without staying too much in any one place for too long if it got stuffy.

                We eventually followed the kids to the park, and we ended up spinning, and sliding, swinging, and my brother came to pick up his kids, ended up spinning too. Though he was much braver than myself, and stayed on for the duration, as his kids spun him around. I can’t stand those spin rides for long, especially after eating pizza.

I also I ran into a neighbor that hadn’t answered the door on Christmas eve. I had part of his gift at my house, so Bess and I biked back, and gave it to him. That was quite satisfying as that neighbor is one who is always bringing us something all the time. And I wanted to give something back.

                We ended the day with a nice bike ride, and feeding our goats in the moonshine, as we had taken so long taking care of our animals, with the kids, we put off feeding them until later.

Much later. 

All in all, it was a good day. 

The kids found treasures. 

The adults had fun talking.

And Bess and I got to be in the sun most of the day.

                               

               

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Try

Dear blog, 

It's going to be busy day tomorrow, my brother, and his family are coming down. They are a big bunch, we'll be making food, and getting games a going, and everyone will be filling up the house, and having a good time, I hope.

I wish I could be profound. But as this moment, I'm not sure how.

My mind keeps talking too much. I want it to quiet down, and pause.

I want my heart to do the talking. And I would like to laugh more, and take myself not so seriously. 

I would like to not be so serious. I was always a serious kid.

I would like to to feel like I could verbalize my thoughts more, without being afraid of my own truth.

I would like to pull humor out of the cracks of life, and if my mind was going to tell me stories, it would be funny ones. Maybe jokes, I could actually remember, funny tidbits I collected. This would be worth storing. Things to make people laugh. Yes.

And yet, serious, is here. I've spent a lot of time with her. 

She thinks life a serious business.

I've told her that it's not, not as much as she thinks.

She thinks she has to be perfect.

I've told her that she's fine the way she is.

She thinks she can't make mistakes.

I told her everyone does.

She's afraid of so many things.

I told her it's okay.

She wants to love herself, but she hasn't allowed herself much room.

I told her, that I allow her.

She's doesn't know how to let go of all the things she thought she was, so she can flow. Things like guilt, anger, and fear, and pain, and playing small.

I told her she doesn't have to let go because those things are not hers to hold.

She doesn't know how to have boundaries, at the same time as being boundary-less.

 I told her love is her protection.

She's afraid of causing pain,

I told her pain is a teacher.

She feels confused, and wonders how to navigate. It feels like all stories are wearing thin.

I told her to navigate one moment, at a time. One present moment at a time.

She's a little unsure about this. One moment she thinks she's not enough, and the next, too much.

I told her to pause. And listen to the voice that tells her the truth of her being. The voice of love. And to disregard all the other voices.

She told me she'd try. 

 

Moonbeam frost

Christmas Eve, Bess and I went visiting a couple neighbors.

One neighbor had dropped a box of goodies on our porch and we wanted to return the favor, and tell her thank you, and also invite her to the children's Christmas eve party.

She's such a sweet lady, and the note she left was so kind.

Next we went to my bee-keeper neighbors who always give us honey, and the lady has always been so sweet to us over all these years.

She greeted us at the door, and was worried because her husband had a cold.

Though that didn't stop him from coming to the door as well, he wanted to feed us something special.

He mixed up some orange juice, with bee pollen, and cyan pepper, and gave Bess and I a glass. It tasted quite nice, and I thought, perhaps it was just the thing I needed.

After which we picked up my other sister and went to a kids Christmas pageant, and watched the kids perform. It was very cute, and I thought how nice it to enjoy watching someone put on a program that I could enjoy. The general feeling of the program was loving, and I enjoyed feeling the ambient heart's voom as we all watched.

Christmas came, and Christmas went. It was a quiet day. Though it feels as if the day was just a small turn in of the wheel, and it gathered momentum, each day, adding to the next, with more people, and friends and family, doing that Christmas thing we all do. More people coming than on Christmas. So much so, I’m wondering if people ever linger in one place for very long before shooting off to the next place? 

The day of Christmas, I slept in so late, that when I got up, the sun was high in the sky. Bess and mom were making a nice Christmas salad.

We got out the our new-wheelchair for my mom. (newer than the old one) My idea behind getting it out was to get my mom outside into the sun, even though it was cold, the sun was very warm.

Our mom was a good sport, and she let us wheel her around, and we surmised the old chair was better in some ways than the new wheelchair, because the new one really rattled on the road. A lot. The wheels are plastic, and had no buffer for the pavement.

Sometimes the old stuff, even if it’s falling apart, is much better.

Bess and I parked mom in front of our beachfront, Bess’s workspace, shielded from the north-wind.

And had a lovely time, eating oranges, and treats, sungazing, and talking.

That was so very lovely. The rest of the day was nice too, but my very favorite highlights were things we did outside.

Like right before bed, Bess got the urge to go outside, so I went with her. I don’t’ remember the time, but it was cold.                                                                                                                                   

Stepping into the frosty night.

The dark trees were silhouetted against the full moon.

The air was fresh, and living.

We headed down the road, and stopped in a place that was flat and full of salt-grass.

Pausing a moment, we were quite taken back.

The moon was at such an angle, and the frost was so heavy on the grass, that it looked like we’d stepped into the sky.

Except there was more stars on the ground than in the sky.

We both were stunned, and amazed. It felt like we had stepped into some fairy land. Each blade of grass had brilliant moonshine stuck to it, glitter everywhere.

We’d both never seen it like this, ever.

We ran inside, and wanted to share this with mom.

Mostly just the story, as she couldn’t come out. So we went back outside, and followed the trail of sparkling moonbeams. Never in all my life, have I seen the ground, lit up, more than the sky.

Sparkling as far as the eye can see.

A frosty sky ground.

I took off my shoes, and walked on the frosty field, and didn’t feel as if it was too cold, as I still had socks on.

It was magic. Not something that’s explainable, nor something a camera could pick up.

Just a magic sea of moonbeams.

Narnian in nature.

I’m glad I had a witness, because it was that magical. I kept looking up to compare the ground to the sky, and thought the ground was more beautiful this time. More glitter there.

And that was really something. 

 

 

Covering

It’s early.

My heart started beating fast. I don’t feel as if I really slept. And I wondered if I needed to write something. I’m trying to listen. Trying to understand…to follow…nudges.

So I’m here. Everything is still.

Though, I have my dove sitting on my garbage can so his poops can be caught. He keeps hooting, loudly, and I keep asking him to be quiet. He likes to fly up to my lamp, or sit on my bed cushions.

Sometimes I’ll have the pillow over my head, and he’ll fly on top of my covers, and peer into the space where I breathe, and try pecking at my nose, or eyes.

Christmas.

Christ.

As I ponder Christmas. I think Spirit is telling me, that as I have been given a great gift, it should be easy to give it away.

I acknowledge my great need for grace’s covering.

And with gratitude, my heart says thank you, to Christ, to God, to spirit.

And to you.

The soul reading this blog, for bringing my heart back online.

I look at my life, and see that I have mostly lived by grace, most of everything that is about me, is because of grace.

The moment I came into the world, the doctor restored my breath.

My life.

It is grace I’m even here.

Grace.

Where I live.

The people who have been placed here for me, to love, and be loved by.

So many times I’ve been helped, and rescued, and kept from drowning.

These coverings. So many, I cannot count them. So many I’m sure I don’t even know about.

Angel moments in disguise.

And so this Christmas, I want to raise my hands, and eyes in gratitude, for that which has sustained my soul, and every part of me.

The power of goodness, and love, and mercy, and truth, and so, so much grace.

So much I can’t ever repay.

Coverings everywhere.

And I pray, as this Christmas comes, and goes, that I may be a covering too, and we can all help cover each other.

For alone, we are all naked.

But because of Christ.

There is a covering.

A love.

And it is so powerful, so good, so pure,

My heart feels as if there is so much to say, so much left unsaid.

So much to do, so little done.

So many times I could have saw other as self, but didn’t.

And yet, here is grace.

Surrounding us.

Grace guiding us.

Grace holding us.

Grace inside, and outside.

Above and below.

I see so many paths, and yet grace has led me here, and Grace will guide us home.

I pray, that I may better listen to this compass, to my heart, to my soul, to the place that is never afraid.

And follow the path where Christ is walking. To give away what I have been given, a covering.

And covering by covering, we are all covered by grace, and truth, and love.