reoccurring Rainbows

Hi,

Since I posted over my last rainbow post. I wasn't sure if it was a sign. To just let it be.

Or if I should try  and post it again?

I found it on my word-file with no pictures.

But then, on my upstairs computer, I had written most of it, or all. And it was just sitting there, waiting for me to copy and paste into a new post.

And since I wrote it after a headache. I decided to look at it, and rework it a bit, from my non-headache Pov. As it is something I want to remember.

These rainbows.

They are beautiful. And so. This is a reoccurring rainbow. With added colors.

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Written and posted mostly on the 8th or 9th of march 2024

I had one of those massive headaches yesterday.  

And when the headaches show up, it brings you to a place where you feel in-between spaces. Where you are forced to be very present with your pain, or fight it. 

But either way, you have to look at it. 

It can be spiritual. Really delving into pain. And it gives you perspective on other’s pain, and why it’s hard to be with it, sometimes. Why it can make people cranky, and crunchy. 

Why it can cause you to narrow your view. Or broaden it. 

The weather here in Utah was crazy, too. The wind was a winding, really winding!  And then it started snowing.  

In the chicken coup.

Since I felt too gross to wiggle much. Bess was so kind, and she got out her sugar free peppermint paddies, she puts them in the freezer, and because I was so nauseous, the peppermint was soothing, like ice cream, and she kept feeding me those, and gave my head a massage.  

She also has some medicine that helps, also. Though, sometimes the headaches and the medicine make my thoughts swirl.

I like to think perhaps, when I get headaches I'm getting a cosmic download. Or passing some new level.

And after the storm, there is quiet.

It started blizzarding, so Bess was in a hurry to get her dogs inside, and Honey, got all wet and snowy. I thought I’d help bath the dog. Plus I thought having my hands in hot water would take away some of the pain from my head. 

It was quite a process, and it was a two-person job. Honey has a lot of hair. Beautiful wavy hair. But having a dog with long hair, who loves dirt, and digging holes, makes for a very hard to clean dog.  

In the middle of bathing honey, Bess looked up and said. “Maybe there are rainbows?” 

She thought it was an odd thought, since it was snowing. But she thought maybe there was.  

But it got me to thinking, that I’ve been wondering what to write. And when I don’t know what to write. I post music. 

Music is always something that soothes me. And when I have a headache, I tend to listen to the same song over and over. And when I don’t, I like to do that too.  

Anyway.  

My last writing post, I did say the rain makes rainbows. 

And I haven’t posted any rainbows yet. 

And I do love rainbows. 

I thought about it. And though it’s been snowy, and windy so much so that it’s really made a lot of mud.

I think looking for rainbows is a good idea. Looking for rainbows in a snowstorm, or a windstorm, in life, everyday. There are rays of colors and light that come.

 Rainbows are symbols of God's promise.  Something beautiful. Should life get stormy. I think it's good to remember to look for them. They are beautiful. Pure. A sign. Light, and water. Baptism.

Looking for rainbows in the snowstorm.

It might sound odd. 

Rainbows in a blizzard. 

But who knows? 

I’m sure there’s been many rainbows so far. I’ll bet someone has scraped someone’s walkway, and someone has saved someone with a flat tire, and someone has made a snowman. 

I’m sure somewhere someone is helping someone clean up the huge storm of tumbleweeds that have piled up in houses across Utah, from the crazy wind. 

I’m sure someone somewhere, has found rainbows in some cloudy, stormy, long windy winded people.  

This is sometimes very challenging, because some people have never seen rainbows, anywhere.

And when you point them out, they might not see them. 

But to be a reflector of the deeper truth. Even if no one else can see it.

Of the deeper rainbows that exist beyond the storms.  

This is what I wish to always be a mirror of----love, truth, light. The soul.

The truth beyond what we see.

To see the frequency field that exists. The love behind these things. 

To know my own flaws, and anyones else is nothing compared to the truth of the goodness we all are. 

When God hands you a mirror, and you see a glimpse of your own rainbows. You can’t unseen them. 

You don’t ever forget them. 

And you know, that underneath all those clouds, and sometimes very crazy weather. 

There are beautiful, fabulous rainbows. 

And so being still, in whatever way you can opens you up to see that space--- quiet spacious place inside yourself, and others. 

The mirror is always there. 

That place of truth. 

You know the beautiful rainbows in your own soul, are the same rainbows hidden in everyone else. Despite whatever it is they have collected in their vibrational mirror.  

And if there is a gift to give, it is to vibrationally reflect the truth, and to hold that truth amid all the static the world holds. 

The deeper rainbow truth. 

The full spectrum of light and colors in God’s beautiful vision. 

To be a space. 

A place of allowing. 

A prism, for light to flow through. 

Colors. 

Rainbows.

And you know those kind of people when you find them. You feel your own soul’s truth. It unfolds in the light, naturally. 

And I say this to remind myself. That it is okay if we forget. 

 Because its all the more  beautiful when rainbows help us remember.

It’s all a part of this dance. 

And sometimes it’s easier than other times to feel the home frequency. That place of truth. The unified field that connects us all.  

The rainbow place. 

The kingdom of God found within.

I have felt it. 

Something I didn't know existed.

And yet, there have been markers leading me back to myself.

Rainbows.

Words.

People.

Cleansing.

Things that opened me up to feeling this space.

To hear those invisible hymns and anthems of your own sacred heart. 

And to amplify that sound.

One beautiful now at a time. One open heart at a time. 

One real moment of at a time.

A kingdom that is felt when we feel in union with our soul's truth.

And so, if there is a rainbow to be found.

A template to remind, and be reminded of.

This rainbow space.

So that someday, if our mirror feels cloudy. 

There will always be a placeholder for that space. 

To help us all remember our way back home. 

The Rainbow space. 

And so, this blog post. Albeit belated. And rewritten.

Appears again.

To highlight the rainbows. And to add more.

The beautiful things we sometimes overlook. 

They are there. Always God is always painting them in every space of our life. 

Rainbows.

Puppies. Bundles of love.
 

Little Gifts. Like this little goat born a couple weeks ago.

 

Rainbows. 

 

The way the sky shows off for me everyday. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Rainbows, Sophy. Birds that light my path. And there have been many.

 

Rainbows. flowers. Colors that light up my life.

Rainbows. Books beautiful books. Beautiful words. They have given comfort, and wisdom, and chaged the course of my life for the better. Kept my heart open when I needed it.

Rainbows. My sister. A rose one of my sister's violin students gave her, and then my sister put it on my Dresser. My sister is always doing those things for me.

Rainbows. Beautiful patterns the ice makes. I thought it was curious how it sort of matched the bowl it had formed in.

Rainbows. My cats. Peppermint in heaven now.

Rainbows. The thought of sleeping in my tent again.

Rainbows. Clouds.

Rainbows. Beautiful evenings.

Rainbows. Beautiful cards my mom makes and gives away. Freely.

 Rainbows. Rabbits.

 

Rainbows. Making music with my sister

Rainbows. Hope for spring.

Rainbows.

I found an egg with a feather stuck to it.

 

 

As for today, what color would I write?  Probably white. For the snow on the ground is blanketed everything white. Beautiful.And from white comes all the other colors. I love seeing how snow makes ordinary things look magic. The beautiful patterns it makes in everything.  

I would also write the color, blue. 

Because of a very blue color that happened last week. 

But I have to go back a bit further, the week before, just to give perspective.  

So I believe it was the week before last, I woke up to the sound of my sister, screaming, and hollering. 

I thought I knew the reason, because her dog, Honey, in the bathroom, with the puppies, in the tub. 

Honey had pooped in the middle of the night right on her cushion. It was not a very nice poop. It was very big. I hadn’t seen the poop until I let her outside. 

And then she came and sat on her cushion, and then looked at me, like I had done that. 

I pointed at the poop. 

And said. You did that. 

Why did you poop on your cushion? 

She looked confused. 

I saw it, and decided to let it be until the morning. 

I knew I probably should have cleaned up. 

But I didn’t.  

So…. 

Bess kept on hollering. 

So I got up thinking I knew the reason. The poop. 

But I was wrong. 

I got up, expecting one thing, only to see….a sea of puppies in the tub, treading water. Their poor little heads bobbing up and down. 

Now you must understand, this tub is an old tub, we don’t use it. And when the tap is turned on, not much water comes out. 

We hadn’t really considered it something to be worried about. They were small enough, we didn’t thinkk the knob could be turned on. 

We have several ideas how the nob got turned. I think the puppies climbed on top of their mom's back, and then switched it on. 

But somehow, the knobs got turned on to the hot water, and it had filled up enough that the puppies had to tread water.  

And… 

We had a little sandbox for the puppies to poop in. But the water had just homogenized everything. Poop, mud, pee. Everything. And Bessie was scooping up puppies, and plopping them on the floor, where honey had pooped, and they were tracking it everywhere. And then the puppies were a hollering, and then pooping everywhere, and peeing, and crying out. 

It was a crazy, funky, nightmare. 

We were all reaching for puppies, and towels, cleaning, and oh my. 

And mommy dog so sad, and howling. 

I grabbed the puppies as fast as Bessie could get them out, and dried them off. Put them in a box. 

Then got the blow dryer out.  

They were going to turn the power of to the house in the morning. So we knew we had nine puppies to dry off before it went off.  

And in the meantime. 

Cat. 

In the night my cat, peppermint, looked like she was going to have kittens, so I had put her in the back room. 

And she seemed to be having some troubles. 

I had tried rubbing her belly with caster oil. 

But she seemed miserable. 

Meanwhile. 

Poop. 

Puppies. 

Dogs. 

Wet sloshy rain outside. 

Crazy. 

What the heck? 

I checked on prego cat, she had moved from her spot. 

And I thought maybe she was finally pushing. 

Go check on puppies, keep drying them off. 

Bessie cleaning poop. 

Tub also was very disgusting, caldron. As the puppy pads were all soaked. 

Oh my gosh… 

Checked on cat again. 

Only to find, to my horror she’d died. Just like that. 

My heart hurt. 

This was not the best morning. 

By the time we got everything dry, and clean, the puppies looked at us with admiration. I told them they are going to be rescue dogs. And ever since, it’s like a switch went off, and they because much more friendly, and sweet. 

We talk to them, and they seem like soul dogs. They seem like they are really listening, and respond to us so well.  

Bess and I love them so much. If we could keep all nine of them, we would. I can just see it, nine dogs walking with us down the street. Oh my. We keep loving on them, and I think, perhaps some of the love we give them will find a home in someone else. 

I like to think God has a heart match for each dog. Someone who needs a bit of love. And these dogs are full of joy 

And. 

So much poop.  

But mostly joy. Getting engulfed by nine puppies in the morning is quite wonderful. 

 

Something my teenage self would have loved. Growing up, I never had much luck with dogs.

But now… 

These guys just happened. And I didn’t know how much I liked dogs until now. 

There’s one I call moon dog, because it has a little white crescent on its side. At least I think it looks like a moon. 

There’s another one we call pickles, it’s spotted, and wonderful. It loves Bess especially.  

And there are others. But we really like those two a lot.  

So rainbows. 

Amid poop. 

And water. 

Black and white puppies.  

But the blue comes later. 

About a week after that, we moved the puppies out of the tub, and it seemed like they started to grow like goldfish, having more room. They have been loving being outside, and then going inside at night.  

We put them in the back room, and we do have a bunch of paint cans. 

One morning, they knocked a can of blue paint over, that didn’t have the lid on tight.  

I heard Bess scream again. 

This time. 

It was not water. 

But paint. 

Blue paint. Every single one of those puppies was covered in blue paint. Blue paws, blue spots. On noses, speckled highlighted in their black hair.  

I’m not sure how it happened. Only that it did. 

Paint. 

And it was drying fast. 

So we grabbed them, once again, and placed them in the tub, and got a scrubber, and we spent all morning, and all afternoon, scrubbing puppies.  

So much blue paint. 

We didn’t think it was going to come off.  But Bess and I worked together, and we scrubbed, and washed. And the puppies though quite miserable for all the scrubbing, and washing, were patient, and the best part was blow drying them off, and cuddling with them. It seems Bess and I have been cleaning up poop, and washing dogs lots. 

And for all the craziness. Bess and I have been learning, and growing, and trying to make the best out of life, tring to find balance, between dogs, and headaches, and animals, and trying to take care of each other, and friends, and family, realizing through all this, we are all doing the best we can, scrubbing off paint, or poop. 

Doing this dance, and realizing that no matter how the water got turned on, or how the paint got spilled, or who pooped on the floor, that when these things come up. 

All you can do, is respond with presence. 

And follow your internal compass. And you just dance, and life dances with you. And You move how spirit directs, trying to best take care of a problem that pops up. Loving life.

Loving yourself. 

Loving your sister.

Your neighbor.

Your family

Loving who God sends.

Loving each other and everything as it arises.  

As best you can. 

And seeing the best of yourself and others as these things happen. 

And realize that there isn’t anything to get. No distant goal to obtain in all this. No better than, or lower than. 

Just presence. In the moment. And you see yourself, and others, and you see the beauty in all. And you see the pain in the world, and in yourself. 

And you dance. 

And you see how beautiful the music is. 

And you dance. And you know that everyone is moving just how they move. 

And if you’re lucky someone who matches you, sometimes steps up, and you help each other. And you just flow, and they flow. And it’s beautiful when you see yourself reflected in another.

And it's beautiful when you can see the divine in yourself, it's easier to see it in everyone, and how God Works through everyone, and everything.  And it’s beautiful when you see rainbows. And you see how beautiful the weather is, even in storms. 

And you see blue paint, and poop, and snow, and wind, as the glue God uses to help you find resonance and presence with another soul. And how your hearts can sync up, and how you let God work through it all. And each other. You realize, what a joy it can be, to work with another soul. And that the paint. 

Just kinda ties it all together. 

The blue paint.  

And for now. 

The color is blue. 

And I’m sure more colors will come too.  

 

Mist. 

 

The sun rises. A mist covers the earth. 

And I stand at my window. 

Seeing the between and betwixed. 

Heaven, and earth. 

A morning glow. 

A misty earth. 

A misty soul. 

Jewels of frost, and jewels of rain. 

Spring and winter cling to my window pain. 

And I looking. 

Wonder… 

Who is the one who looks and sees? 

What windowpane are my eyes, these? 

And what is frost, and what is dew? 

What are tears. 

And rain. 

Isn’t heaven a window too? 

And God looking down, sees, the mist of eyes, and people as trees. 

And there are mists, and sunlight, and dew. 

Golden moment’s when heaven is seen.

The fields covered in dew. 

Jewels. 

Glittering. 

 

 

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