Returning to this World


Last night the rain shivered beneath the moon

and I fell asleep staring at the silhouettes of trees

dancing across the field, lost in the wind of chances

until I drifted without thoughts and illusions

into a dream land that called my name from the other side.


This morning I returned to this world,

woken with memories of another life I left behind

and as I stared into the morning light

a quiet whisper left me without doubts:

my thoughts are the small journeys

that bring me back to reality

and I am exactly where I am supposed to be.


I return to this world surrendering to the universe.

Some days there is peace of mind.

Some days there is utter chaos.

Some days I thank God for the rain inside

that washes over me and fills my spirit

with such certainties and assurances.

The dreams intertwine with past lessons;

the past intertwines with the disillusions

and then I am back to this reality:

This is my one-and-only spectacular life.

Breathe deeply and be gentle


The other night I fell off my gorgeous unicorn. I was going really really fast, missed a curve, and ended up in a ditch. The next morning I landed in the emergency room. It was that intense. My heart felt like the unicorn was still on me. It was hard to breathe and function. The nurses in the ER didn’t understand my story. They almost sent me to the psychiatric ward. The nerve of some people not believing what is someone’s reality.

I would like to stick with that story and the reason I ended in the hospital for almost two days. That would be more acceptable to me than the ugly truth. My heart couldn’t take one more form of crap. I shut down. For two days I was poked, probed, pricked, and pulled. Luckily the ticker inside is in good shape. However, the stress and other minor crap have risen to get noticed. The night prior to that I spent it throwing up with severe aches all through my body. It’s as if my body parts are all raising their hands up and yelling, “Hey, me, me, me! Pick me! I need to be entertained. Let me be the center of attention today.” This getting older thingy ain’t for sissies. And, this loving so openly isn’t either.

As I was being discharged last night my oldest son was in the room with the most amazing nurse. I went to the bathroom to change and as I was coming out I overheard him say really low, “My mother loves so hard and so deeply that her heart is just expanding to take more of it in.” The woman said something along the lines of medical mumbo-jumbo and Nelson returned, “You don’t understand, Ma’am, you’ve had here in this room for two days the greatest teacher with some amazing superpowers….” At that moment, I stepped into their view and they both stayed quiet. I appreciate my sweet loving son thinking that I have love superpowers but my body is obviously retaliating big time.

On our way home I laughed and told him that I am so blessed to be loved by him this way but he’s not a little boy anymore…and I don’t have any kind of superpowers. He gave me a long lecture and between the tightening of my chest and the lack of energy I really zoned out. He’s no different than me…after all I fell off a unicorn.

I am better this morning. I am moving rather slow and being mindful of breath. In the hospital I was given oxygen and I didn’t realize I hold my breath so much, except when I am meditating. And, in that lack of oxygen other parts of me are being affected. I slept like I haven’t in years while in the hospital. It’s good to know that my heart is in excellent shape and that my blood work is wonderful. And, that I will live till the ripe age of 111. But, I also know that for a year and a half I have had a difficult time absorbing things. I have repressed them. My emotional and physical bodies are trying to align with my spiritual one that is moving at a much higher frequency. I feel the vibration of so much and it’s trying to adjust. In this adjustment things are being shaken. I feel the expansion and the pulling and it’s not fun. Sometimes it’s extremely painful. It takes all of me to constantly relax and put down my guard so I can take a deep breath into the unknown.

As we move through this season, I ask that you stay aware of your emotions and your physical body. There are some major intense energies swirling around. The last quarter of this year has been incredibly difficult to administer for many of us. Allow yourself the gift of deep breaths, being present, release, and loving. Cry, create, love, be in nature, play with a child and be a child yourself. But, stay present to all that is you. Don’t conform to the news, or the panic out there. Turn the media off. Seriously! Turn it off. I have disconnected from it. I recognize all that is out there is hurting me and I cannot help anyone else if I don’t take care of me.

My son helped me out of the car when we got home and kissed my forehead like I do to all my kids, “Mom, please relax and feel better. Please chillax. Please stop worrying about everyone else. I know you will find a lesson for this episode as you like to call it…but just chill and forget all your problems this weekend.”

I promised him I won’t be getting on my unicorn for some time until I feel stronger. He laughed…I giggled and we did our pinky swear.

My sweet husband has had a scare and I promised him that I would rely more on him when it comes to my emotions. I promised I wouldn’t carry the entire world on my back alone. I would shed some of the shit on him…he is bigger and stronger. He has been shaken too. He has seen my willingness to be independent, as I drove myself to the ER without telling him. (Cause I thought I would be in and out and back to work)…the unicorn was in the backseat of the car waiting to be checked as well and no one wanted to admit him into the hospital.

Be gentle with you. I will be gentle with me. Let’s allow this gentleness to bleed into the world with love, hope, and kindness. Love you all!

The Loss of What Is or Not


Loss is inexplicable regardless if it’s through death or a falling out and misunderstanding. Loss cuts deep in the core of the heart and psyche. I’ve learned a few things about this. I have been on the giving side of losing and the receiving side of loss. Sometimes it doesn’t matter what side you are on…the pain is still there. At times I even forget who was on what side of the issue.

Words have tremendous powers. They are whips that create profound welts, feathers that mend the heart, and at times, the bullet that kills everything. Perhaps because I am overly sensitive words have an extraordinary effect that is hard to forget. However, I forgive myself for words heard and used. I am human. I make a million of mistakes. I am impatient. I am the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. I am overly positive at times that I don’t see the pitfall of things to come. I do tend to be forgetful over time. And, and I carry my heart outside of my chest exposed to all who want a piece. I lay it all out there for the taking…even when ego borrows it and damages it for a bit.

The heavy rain this weekend has poured out a bunch of emotions. It’s as if heaven is crying. It stops. It starts again. It comes down like a tantrum and then slowly reduces its energy. With it all the energy of the land it is overly charged. Rain allows for the veils of here and there to thin out. The esoteric world becomes a lining of this one in a very visible manner. I have been on an exhausting emotional roller coaster taking messages from above and beyond. There’s a conscious shift happening and I am standing on the sidelines witnessing it: for me and for others.

Loss has been the theme this weekend. We all want to be heard. We all want to be understood. We all want to believe it’s not our fault when the shit hits the fan. But, part of our lessons here is that it is our fault. It’s our fault when we participate in the drama. It’s our fault when we don’t take full responsibility for our words and our actions. It’s our fault when avoidance becomes the elephant in the room. I can take full responsibility for that one. I hate confrontations. I will go around and around to make sure that something is not in my face going off at me like a hungry tiger ready to eat me. But, I also have a default and when pushed to a corner I become the tiger without a care in the world who is there. It does, however, take a long time for me to get there.

A dear friend asked me one day why I avoid getting into an argument. I have a fairy-unicorn-happy like concept. It’s not wrong and it’s not right. It just is. My belief is that if given enough time things always subdue. If allowing for the strains to energetically tire out everything returns to harmony. Then I come to realize it isn’t always so. Sometimes…only sometimes…perhaps more than sometimes…a person needs to go off. A person needs to truly be heard. A person needs to put another in their place. The bullying and passive aggressive behavior must end. But…there are always three sides to every story: mine, yours and the truth. It’s all about perception. And, I believe loss is inevitable at times. People come into our lives for a reason and a season. Whether it’s through death or through different paths, we are always going to be connected.

I met a man in the checkout isle two days ago who had Parkinson’s disease and was here visiting from California. His wife gently guiding him to put the things on the counter, while he chit-chatted about my groceries, forced me to stop and pay attention to those things not said but seen through energy and gestures. It doesn’t matter what was said…but I realized at the moment of impact that he and I were connected forever. It’s that simple. Not one person comes into your life without a reason. Believe me when I say this. Each…Single…Person…Matters!

So…with all this great amount of water on our mountain I have had the privilege of being up for hours entertaining souls and energies who have passed on, some in my memories that will never be part of my life even though they are alive, and others who are just plain old lost in time. We want forgiveness. We want to leave a legacy. One thing that I do understand and cherish is that two things matter in our lives: love and awareness of another. We only want to know we matter. We only want to know we touched another. Say your sorry’s, your I love you’s, your sweet words of acknowledgment…now…not later. Say what needs saying even when you don’t want to tackle the truth. As time passes the truth also becomes distorted. Let it go. That crap has no business being part of your today. If it pains you then it’s time to release it. You have been given another opportunity today to live. Let Divinity do its work…forgive and love. I love you. Have a blessed Sunday.

A Scavenger Hunt

little boy

Let me take you there

to that place in the meadows,

the corner of the world,

where you can be

completely YOU.

Let’s run in and out

of the maze of illusion

and find truth

in this scavenger hunt.

Don’t be afraid

of the darkness in your thoughts,

they can’t really hurt you

unless you allow

their regimen to be your dictatorship.


Come to that place of peace.

Let me in and together

we can find

Serenity sitting by the water

ready to push you in

to find what Authenticity looks like.

We can fish out Grace,

Truth, and Hope

to add to the list

of invaluable commodities.

And, when we are done

the quest would have been

a playful act

of moments intertwined

to make your life even richer

by creating a life of joy.


“Searching is half the fun: life is much more manageable when thought of as a scavenger hunt as opposed to a surprise party.” – Jimmy Buffett

Into the Mist

The more I come closer

to understanding

the depth inside

I realize that I am

looking into the mist

of something that has

no beginning or ending.

It’s a fog that dreams it away

with impressions,



all reaping what has been sown.

The rarities are engraved in

idyllic representations

of what I see and what I don’t  —

all abstractions of my persona.

These ideas, notions of sorts,

get distracted in the distance.

As I get closer to reaching them

I see a vacancy —

an empty meadow

awaiting my arrival.

My spirit is voided,

held by Divinity,

and in the mist

I witness

the full capacity of love,



and all that seems ignored

through the haze

of belief…

into the arms of God.

Finding Nemo

Relationships are like fish tanks: they look prettier from the outside.  Perfection is just an illusion created with the chosen scenery.  Looking from outside it appears like all the fish are swimming around content in their little compartment. We create these beautiful underwater scenes, but are they really happy?

When I was in my early twenties, raising two little boys on my own, I was barely making ends meet.  I would go to their school functions alone whenever I could take off from work and always felt like I wasn’t giving enough.  I was defining my parental skills based on the perceptions I saw of the P.T.A. moms (their underwater scenery always looked perfect).  They had the bake sales, the fund raisers, chaperoning trips, and so on.  A lot of them didn’t work and were always at the school supporting their children.  I could barely make it out the door with both of them without forgetting my keys.  They were two years apart and extremely opposite personalities. I was trying to survive on little income, a stressful job, traveling outside of the state for work training, and having two little ones in a town an hour away from my immediate family.  I was basically in a reality show like “Survivor” without cameras following me around.  I was too young to understand that things aren’t perfect when you measure others up to your own life.  The tanks and fish bowls are all man-made!

I realized once I had six children that those perfect packages of being the P.T.A. mom are illusions.  I gave them all I had with love, patience (not so much at times), understanding and constant assurance for their safety.  I worked full time, kept a household and a business running, and tended to all their doctor appointments, therapists, and activities.  The four kids from Romania needed to feel as if they weren’t going to be abandoned again.   This is still a full-time job with some of them.  The scars left from childhood are deep.

I don’t know much after twenty-three years of raising children that can be passed down to anyone else.  What worked for me might not work for the next person.  Each child is different and there are no set rules for any of them.  Every relationship that comes into our lives plays its own part in our stories and drama.

Now, with the two youngest ones about to turn seventeen I feel tired.  I am depleted of all parental guidance at times, constantly reminding myself that I am doing the best I can.  I don’t know how anyone starts a family in their forties.  My oldest son always tells his younger siblings that the woman they have as their mother was not the same one he had growing up.  I pick and choose my battles now.  I don’t pay attention to the smallest details of irritation.  I allow them to find their way and give them more room to make mistakes without the fear of them getting hurt.   It’s hard to watch those we love go through any kind of pain and being a mother seems to magnify this anxiety even more.

We are all two waves away from finding the ocean treasure that best suits us. Relationships are challenging.  I guess we are all swimming in one giant fish bowl trying to find ourselves, searching for the perfect little Nemo who lives in a Disney fantasy.  Some days I feel just like Dory swimming with the flow without a clue to where I am going!