Pasta Pretty

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Any Pasta….can make you feel pretty again. Really. It’s true. Any pasta, made with love, can help you forget all your troubles, forget all your cares, lickidy split!  “Try it! You will like it! “

Lately, it seems that all I do is write about food! Nourishment for the soul. I guess that is what I am needing for now. How about YOU? 

I came home from work tonite, feeling sassy…not quite “Stella in her groove” yet. Kind of..”.I’m almost there”…if only I could……THEN I will be happy!” kind of mood. So….of COURSE…my pasta had to have lots of sultry seasonings, like capers, pesto, sunflower seeds and WINE!  The more I kept tasting the fruits of my labor as it kept sizzling over the flames….the better I felt.  Perhaps it was the wine. I like to think it was fate. I felt triumphant as I watched it all come to life in one big happy bowl of  over flowing yumminess as it slid it’s way into my beautifully designed, Pasta bowl. 

Perhaps it was …the long ago memories. Way back when. My son’s father left us.  The blue eyed boy…. he was very little. I was very scared. Our best friends moved in with us. We were all fledglings, or refugees or broken souls or something quite dreadful and foreign. But we became a new kind of family. Brought together by betrayal….and necessity. We…the Mommies, were too shell shocked to cook cool stuff. We had all we could do to not cry into the  spilt milk….the raising of these boys. We talked. We cried. We took them to the circus. We made Easter Eggs. We cried. We picked each other  lilacs and savored the fragrances of hope. We made Pasta. We made “kitchen sink”, elegant at times, ho hum, incredible….Pasta! The boys always loved it. We always ate it. We didn’t eat much in those hapless days of pain, but we always ate our pasta. We told each other we were beautiful. Pasta made us feel pretty amidst the tumultuous  job of navigating a new way of being for these fatherless boys. Hooray for Pasta. Hooray for Pretty. Hooray for strength and capers…..seasoned with LOVE!

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Outsider. Lone Wolf.  Hiding in dark corner crying.

Old. Feeling Older. 

Out of shape. You let yourself go. Too late now. Too late for anything now. 

Little Kid…Listen! Listen! Listen to me!  Listen to “little me “inside! 

Before it is too late! Before it is too late! Listen to me! 

“Mary Mary Quite Contrary…”

Your Garden Didn’t Grow.

You didn’t Listen

You didn’t Glisten….

And now you are….no more.

No more Lady Bugs for you. 

You chose your date..walked yourself to that gate…

And then You flew away in the  rope swing.

No one believed you would.

Love could not make you stay…any more. 

The Baby Cherubs fly their forlorn wings at half mast for you today.

They sadly knew…you couldn’t stay …

In the hell hole any more.

But me…I’m mad you felt this way…

The bits and pieces all astray…

The children will bury their Joy today

And tatter their dreams to shreds today

I feel the dark creep in….I do….

the dread…the lies…the hopeless feud…

But never could I dare to muster up a plan

to take this life  and go Ka Bam!!!

Never could I leave the ones I love…

Knowing how much the children grieve…

Oh No!  I could not steal their souls

I could not leave them to grow old…

But maybe you know much more than I…

So accomplished were you in your architectual ways…

You had so much but maybe not….

Your candle is out. Our world is darker now.

Your children must live on…and so must I.

Still mad with you for leaving us all

So now I can only bid you farewell…..

 


 

 

 

 


“Mary Mary Quite Contrary…”

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Outsider. Lone Wolf.  Hiding in dark corner crying.

Old. Feeling Older. 

Out of shape. You let yourself go. Too late now. Too late for anything now. 

Little Kid…Listen! Listen! Listen to me!  Listen to “little me “inside! 

Before it is too late! Before it is too late! Listen to me! 

“Mary Mary Quite Contrary…”

Your Garden Didn’t Grow.

You didn’t Listen

You didn’t Glisten….

And now you are….no more.

No more Lady Bugs for you. 

You chose your date..walked yourself to that gate…

And then You flew away in the  rope swing.

No one believed you would.

Love could not make you stay…any more. 

The Baby Cherubs fly their forlorn wings at half mast for you today.

They sadly knew…you couldn’t stay …

In the hell hole any more.

But me…I’m mad you felt this way…

The bits and pieces all astray…

The children will bury their Joy today

And tatter their dreams to shreds today

I feel the dark creep in….I do….

the dread…the lies…the hopeless feud…

But never could I dare to muster up a plan

to take this life  and go Ka Bam!!!

Never could I leave the ones I love…

Knowing how much the children grieve…

Oh No!  I could not steal their souls

I could not leave them to grow old…

But maybe you know much more than I…

So accomplished were you in your architectual ways…

You had so much but maybe not….

Your candle is out. Our world is darker now.

Your children must live on…and so must I.

Still mad with you for leaving us all

So now I can only bid you farewell…..



True Confessions of an Artichoke Lover!

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      So…here I sit at my computer. “It is a Saturday nite and I ain’t got nobody…I got some money, cuz I just got paid….” ok I lied a little. I have my two most loyal companions a girl could hope for. My two pupster doggies, who are ALWAYS glad to see me! The husbands…didn’t quite turn out as loyal or full of glee to see the marvelous me…, but that is another story entirely. Artichokes represent soooo much goodness for me!

I was living in adventure filled Delray Beach Florida for 18 years, and I was on my way out! I was moving BACK to my beloved California and I was in that dreary state of packing up boxes and feeling very lonely but hopeful about my new life in Cali….My loneliness drove me to the grocery store where I always find comfort and strength. Aha!  There before me…stood the most gorgeous ARTICHOKE I had ever set eyes on!    I hadn’t dared eat one  since I set foot in Florida and there it was….”egging me on” so to speak!

I obsconded with my secret treasure and immediately found myself deeply imbedded in my ritual of cooking my artichoke to perfection with the savory flavors of  olive oil…rosemary,…and my delicious concoction of mayo….lemon..soy sauce and wine, And …there you have it!!!  The irresistable, unmistakenely, delectable, religious ritual of uncovering …the art and finesse of eating and  discovering the JOYS of being an Artichoke Lover!

Let me …let YOU…in on one of my biggest….secrets…when it comes to Artichokes!  This very enchanting….down right Gorgeous Man …who insisted on calling me  “Nut brown Maiden”…is the one who gave me Artichoke Lesson 101 at  “the very prestigious….”everybody who is any body, wants to be seen here, kind of organic,scene and be seen kind of  restaurant”. Davoods” in Mill Valley California! …Hmmm….a mere….38 years ago! And….I was TOTALLY young and in my Hey day and knew everything about anything!!

One of the most beautiful, delicious places I frequented in my twenties, and wish I could go back  to right now will always be DAVOODS! It was BEAUTIFUL…Had live gorgeous plants EVERYWHERE and all the food was natural, organic, and delicious!! I saw my hero…Joni Mitchell there one evening and it solidified my belief that this was the best place to be on the planet…but alas …it has now  been “replaced” with something with not nerely the finesse of Davoods!  But let’s not digress…. herin…lies my tulmultuous meeting with the ever spellbound glory and  power of the Artichoke!

I have to say. It teeter tottered on being one of the most  sensual, spiritual experiences of my life! Every time I now …allow myself the ritual of a lifetime….eating and experiencing an Artichoke…..my life….”unravels before me!”

Ok…so first you gently take a leave off of the treasured artichoke …dip it in whatever wonderful sauce that has been “created” and savor the unique flavors…..well you continually do this until you get to the “real heart of the matter” which happens to be the most delicious part of the Artichoke…THE  HEART!  You have to really WORK to get to the heart of the matter, but it totally rewards you!  If you have used the right “utensils” and you have loyally followed all the right directions….you end up a happy camper.!

The silver lining…is this!  You’ve done all this physical work to get to the heart of the matter. The  discarded …”.leafy baggage” is left all over the side roads of “pain or disdain”. Once you reach the heart of the matter, the REAL HEART of the ARTICHOKE…..the baggage seems very insignificant.

IF ….I would dissect my life…as carefully as I pull off the delicious leaves of the artichoke…..if I would take a careful look…at each leaf in life….before I devour it…perhaps….I would get to the “heart of the matter” with abit more steadfast intensity and less drama for all involved!   The artichoke always offers me …a delicious…adventurous journey. Not all Artichokes are created equal. Just like boyfriends and girlfriends, you must choose very carefully!

I had a rough day today. I came home to my loyal “companions” , who greet and welcome me with great love  all the time no matter what,and there lay…in the refrigerator…. an incredible Artichoke…all ready for me to embrace and dissect and discover ….my true journey…in …”getting to the heart of the matter, in the most delicious of ways!”

So….I did it. I devoured that great Artichoke and felt wonderful inside and out! Ah….the glories of the Artichoke!!!!!  It won’t EVER tell your secrets…..and it will always help you feel DELICIOUS INSIDE!!

Band of Angels

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Sometimes…the willingness…to do whatever it will take to gain peace…not knowing how it will all come about, but making the decision anyway because it seems all goodness keeps aluding you, no matter what good action you take…that is, what gives you wings to finally fly….
I was willing to move. Into a small box with two dogs. No kitchen. Perhaps no windows. No laundry facility. Not close to the seaside.  Alone with the already aloneness desperate feelings of not being able to give anything to anyone anymore. Most especially myself. I called the people I love the most. Not to be fixed. Just to say it out loud and know I was loved. Thank goodness I still knew I was loved.  I guess AA calls it an addicts bottom.You zig out the back door and give up on yourself and life because the pain is unbearable any more, or you zig out thru the front door, naked, terrified,but chaotically determined in your shattered kind of dazed,stress filled confusion.
 My cell phone plopped itself in water 3 times in ten days. My Labrador needed emergency care. My car would not start anymore for anything. For the first time in seven months, I ALMOST had all the money to pay my rent on time until all these things happened in a two week string of black dominoes.  I always scraped together the $3.99 on sale Champagne, to remember to Celebrate life. The bubbly always made me feel that soon my happiness ship would arrive. Goodness had to be on the way for me. I would force it. I would..intend it….visualize it. I worked really hard for it. I was so melancholy blue. The young children laughing in the park, my pups, my son,my family, my Soozie friend and playing on the playground teaching the children I care for…about the wonders of nature…were the only glue that kept the living thread alive in me. It felt like a blue,cold,winter in my heart and soul. Money was always,always on my mind and not in a good way. I gave up on trying to “overcome” what life was giving me. The rash on my neck, the worry…the sleepless in Seatle nites…the exhaustion finally stopped me in my tracks.
Time to communicate truthfully to myself. I had no more warrantees left for cell phones and my contract was less then a month old. I couldn’t even try to control the fact that my rent money was gone, being spent on the traumas of my recent skirmishes. I had to move. I couldn’t wrestle this rent any longer. I told the people that needed to know. I felt an odd sense of relief, like when someone you really didn’t like much anymore, suddenly dies. I didn’t know my future, but I knew it would end up in a better place then the insanity I was wrestling.
And then the blue winged Angel came. Actually there was a band of them. My sisters. My family. My son. My brother Pesto and his wife.My Soozie friend. My sister in law who is really my sister. My Liessee, my great Auntie, my wild Helen, my Chee Wee girl. They all listened to me and laughed with me and loved me. I was given the most generous of gifts, that will help me climb back up into my life now and onto the saddle and actually be able to grab the reigns of my life back and gallop on into recovery. Recovering my Jewels. My stolen treasures. This incredible Angel is believing in me and the diamond she sees under the ground of debris. I am the luckiest leprichan ever!
I turned on what I thought was going to be the latest “News of the Day” because I am a junkie for this, and there instead was my story being acted out on “The Closer”. I was riveted. I tried to leave the screen. So much to do before work and all. But instead, the tears started streaming down my face. We have the same secret. The only difference is she is dead and I am alive. I realize now, that  my beauty  and innocence,as a young woman, “cost” me so much. And therefore…all my money challenges as of late. I don’t have to keep any more “Secrets” and I don’t have to protect any abusers anymore. I only need to protect myself and stay on a path of “safety”. I no longer have to “Pay the cost” of what I was a victim of any longer. I don’t have to have zero worthiness or self respect because of the things that were done TO me. I don’t have to pay any price any more. I am free. I can soar.  End of “SENTENCE.”

Buried Treasure

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       It is late night on a Saturday. I find myself driving home from work, listening to “Gymnopedies”, feeling very contemplative. There is some kind of mournful joy about this classical piece that always brings me some strange, bewildering kind of peace. It’s like my “Manya” …my security blanket when I was a little kid. I feel safe and comforted. Everything, is going to be ok. 

Well. Since I moved to California, 17 months ago, I have been on this secret mission of uncovering the truth about who I really am. I thought I moved here for a whole different reason.  I was wrong. I have been “forced” to discover  what I am made of. What I have been running from. I went from a high profile kind of  career to an almost invisible “worker” on what many people would call, the low totem pole of life. My “self” has been coming out “sideways” with a vengeance. It apparently is safe for me here in my beloved California to finally reach deep within and discover, my “buried treasure.” I have wanted to come back to my California…ever since I left…almost like a forlorn love affair, I have been carrying on with for years….a secret, wistful affair of the heart.

It’s really all I can do to work this simple, mostly physical kind of job. The rest of my life is putting a very scattered, tattered, yet beautiful puzzle together. Finding pieces on the ground…not knowing where they go…then, BOOM!  It’s all of a sudden very painfully obvious where they belong. I have awakened from a dream of denial…. A sleeping beauty Diva of sorts….

I have been following Whitney Houston’s death, as if it were my own. I am driven and compelled and there is no use trying to fight it.   Of course, it didn’t help matters (except to make it really eerie for me)….that she went to be with God, on my Birthday this year. The stages I have sung on had maybe 500 people at most and I remember the terrifying feelings…the burden, as Kevin Costner so elequently put it…the burden of trying to hold all the questions…”Will they like me? ” Will I remember the words?”   “Will I be able to be myself in such a surrealistic experience?” I’m very small potatoes compared to the things she has experienced. And then to have such a golden voice, and feel that you lost it…..I cannot even imagine the angst and the fears, and so much more.

There were many things in my life when I was younger that took my attention away from developing my many talents that God so graciously gave me. I feel that I am at a very special time in my life  now, in that, I am re discovering my buried treasure. The treasure that is me. The hopes and dreams that got buried inside because of my circumstances and the choices I made, many of which were to merely survive what just happened. Bury it and move on. That was my motto….and “Make sure you leave skid marks on the way out…”

I was in deep despair a few months ago,  and a very close friend asked me…”Why am I the keeper of your secret?” Why aren’t you sharing this with the other people who love you?  Well I am lucky enough….to have those people. “My people” will walk thru fire for me….but they need to know that I am in danger. It has always always been so hard for me….to ask for help when I am in trouble…when I don’t know where to turn or what just even happened. I am one of the lucky ones tho. I am learning how. Did Whitney know how? Did Michael? Did Janis?  So so many more…..Is it really “easier” to become intimate with our drug of choice…than a human being?  Sometimes it is. Sometimes just getting some moments of relief….a night….a week …a life time.

But there is nothing better than discovering buried treasure!  You know when you were little and you found some wonderful thing in the sand while you were building your sand castles….well I think we are all diamonds in the rough. We are all “beauties”. There is not another “me ” on this earth right now, nor is there another you!  Whitney was a true pure diamond. She knew it for some of her life. For some of her life, she did not. We all need to build each other up. “Acknowledgement is the hallmark of success” says Charlie Chaplin. Entertainers in my opinion, are one of the most giving kind of humans on earth. The show must go on no matter what….and there are always ….alot of “no matter whats”. People have “performed” under the most dire of circumstances, and it can ironically be a very lonely experience.

Whitney is now, as of today….a buried treasure. I will never know why it all went down the way it did for her. I will never know the agonies that her  close family and loved ones must now endure with her being gone out of there lives, just like that! ….I know she sang like no one I have ever heard. I know that she loved deeply and she was loved deeply. I am left with much sadness that her “light” has travelled on.  She died on the day I was born into this world. She has inspired me to find all the rest of the pieces of my puzzle so that the rest of my life will shine. It will no longer be clouded and shrouded over by past misdeeds of others….I don’t have to run anymore.  I’m almost done with finding my own buried treasures: My hopes as a child, my dreams as an adolescent. My dreams right now.

Whitney knew it was never too late….she was beginning anew. She was getting ready to “Sparkle” once again. She had started to look at her buried treasures. I just wish the lights could have stayed on a little longer for her. We all must carry on the torch, by trying with all our might, to be true to who we are. Who we really are. The ceremony that her Mother prepared for her today was four hours of pure, deep, music and emotion and moving words of honor and grace and diamonds for Whitney Elizabeth Houston. I hope all of her demons are finally laid to rest, and I hope that we can all now have the courage to bring forth our own  buried treasures, and leave the demons behind, where they belong.

Let’s “all shine on…like the moon, the stars, and the sun.”  I will miss that “Golden Voice” and the big treasured  ball of light  that tried so vehemently to shine amidst the turbulent seas of self doubt.

“Food, Glorious Food!”

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The great fresh smell of  cut peeled cucumbers always,  conjures up the sweetest memories of my Grandmother in the kitchen…one of my favoritist places to be when I was little. She snuck in those tiny little pieces of love  in every kind of sandwich she made for us and they were always delicious! I felt it a grande luxury that she would also cut off the crusts of the bread, even tho I grew to love those little crusts, because my Mom always left them on. My Mom and I were the only ones, that I recall, that went for the “heel” of a loaf of bread with great gusto!

So,it came as a great shock to me that I could actually become Anorexic, as I was, and still am, known to consume great amounts of food at every twist and turn in life. The Kitchen was always the main hub of activity growing up, and still is, many moons later, as our families always find ways to  meet together for reunions and celebrations of life. I believe healthy thinking and heartfelt soul wisdom, and  a body you can rely on and love, stems largely from what we pour into it. Consistent exercise is also right up there.

Well the anorexic thing happened upon me because  I suffered from a sudden shocking heartbreak. One day I was married with a toddler. Next day I was on my own with my little one trying my best to navigate this new world I found myself in. My  best friend who was getting married, had to keep bringing my maid of honor dress back to the seamstress to take in. I weighed 84 pounds,when my usual was 115. I went to aerobics every day. Front row. Feeling aghast at how fat I “looked”. True story.

After six months of  eating only sweet potatoes, hersey bars and coffee,I felt lucky to find my way slowly back to  a healthier self image. I attribute most of this to the healthy way I was brought up with food and because of the incredible love and support my family and friends showered onto me.  The constant exercise  I so ruefully demanded from myself,DID help get rid of toxins, and my self loathing thinking even tho it was WAY over the top of a normal  workout routine.

Why, as humans, when we are a victim of something violent, heartbreaking, or abusive, do we blame ourselves?I would never in a million years, pick myself out of a crowd to become befallen with such a fate as anorexia. I don’t fit any of the profiles,but a broken heart can bring on many a cold winter’s chill if you feel alone in the world. It makes me a firm believer that we must align ourselves with good thoughts and good people, and good food and exercise as preventative maintenance, for  we never know…what is around the next corner. If we don’t feel like we have a warm blanket of love around us before the snow falls….we could very well fall into the ice cold depths of despair,thinking we are naked, cold, and alone in this world. We are not.

“He’s A REBEL”

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To Rebel….is…”to go against authority.”  My Mama use to always call me her “Rebel”. I was one amongst “seven angels”, which she also called us, but I was the only one that also got the special, and sometimes dreaded….”R” name. Then years later, we went skiing as a family which was the one and only time I recall seeing my Mom and Dad actually ski. I remember going up the chairlift with my Mom and she terrifyingly wobbled off the chairlift and  cut me off  with one of her skiis, as we were getting off . I was trying to be so COOL as a teenager, but alas I went crashing down off the chair lift,  instead of my hoped for graceful debut. I did spy a nice looking lad looking quite amused with the whole scenario before him and his name just happened to be Rebel!  We struck up a natural comradeship and I had a glorious, rebellious, ski vacation in New Hampshire that year!

Fast forward twenty kazillian years later. I’m broiling nachos in the oven, giving the dogs their supper…looking forward to finishing the Steve Jobs book that I can barely stand to put down: it is so riveting….and what song comes on the oldies radio but “He’s a Rebel”.  Well I have secretly treasured that song my whole life and tonite, as I sang along and danced around the kitchen with the dogs and the wooden spoon, I realized the words are just so profoundly chilling for many things going on today and most precisely…the way that Walter Isaacson so succinctly  describes the agonies and the ecstasies of Steve Jobs and  the tales of his incredible geniousness and precision in creating and manufacturing for  us a whole new easier, kinder, more beautiful, technical, artistic, productive  world.

“See the way he walks down the street. Watch the way he shuffles his feet. How he holds his head up high, when he goes walking by…he’s my guy. When he holds my hand I’m so proud. Cuz he’s not just one of the crowd. My baby’s always the one, to try the things they’ve never done. And just because of that, they say…hey!

“He’s a Rebel and he’ll never be any good

He’s a Rebel cuz he never ever does what he should do

But just because he doesn’t do what everybody else does…

That’s no reason why I can’t give him all my love….”

Just like  “It’s as good as it gets” makes you want to be a better YOU….just like OPRAH, and Gayle and Dr. Phil and the whole gang, inspire you to be a better YOU…..this book about this man…the  precision he empassioned the world with in  mending technology and artistic creativity into the most brilliant woven tapestry every time,  pushing the envelope WAY beyond his time….whether it be the Apple computer, Pixar Film, totally revamping the entire music industry so everybody wins, the ipod, the ipad, the iphone…….the enchanting  way that Walter Isaacson explains it all…where you are at times…laughing out loud in disbelief at what Steve Jobs gets people to do…..to the outcries of injustice for the bullying and down right abuse Steve Jobs puts the world thru to get what he needs to get us what we don’t even know that we so desperately want and need in this day and age….it is all …so very educational, baffling, entertaining and sad. Sad because Steve Jobs was one of the lost boys…he was given up and given away, and even tho he ended up with this incredible Mom and Dad who adored him and did EVERYTHING he Demanded…it never took away the lifelong dark sorrow of being “unwanted”.  It haunted and beguiled him. It brought him to do great things. It bewitched, bothered and bewildered him. He abandoned his own daughter….therefore goes the generational hand me downs of shame and confusion, yet he stopped it midstream. He was able to reach out to his daughter and they ended up having a relationship that mattered.

This is one of the stories you hear around the campfires from your elders.Ah…yes. The values of “right and wrong”.  I have always pushed the envelope myself. I have always stood up for what feels like should be  the right thing to do.  Many people continue to disagree with who I am and my points of view. I am a very fragile soul, full of a certain kind of integrity that must be heard. I instilled my son with the same philosophy which landed him in the principles office alot. Bob Dylan was one of Steve Jobs greatest heroes. Also one of mine. As far as Mr. Dylan is concerned…what ever you may think of him is none of his business. He does what he feels is right for him. I think he has done pretty well for himself and his family.

I guess this is what I find so exciting about living. The people that really make a huge difference in our world are usually the ones who push the envelope waaay out there. They are the doers of their dreams. They persist til they get it right…no matter what any one says. They have incredible focus and drive and discipline and passion. They are usually very colour filled characters…like Steve….going bare foot everywhere with holes in his jeans and having body odor much of the time. He was different. He gave us so very much it is really beyond words, but  I now have a very deep respect for Walter Isaacson as well as Steve Jobs and everyone …everyone who worked with Apple. It is all about connection. Finding the right people, who get you….who get the good , the bad and the ugly and still want to work with you and set their boundaries with you…..because they know you are on to something great!  Isn’t that just true of all of us?  There is no other human being like you on this planet. No one else….(yet anyway)…. who can DO YOU!  So what is stopping you?  This book is so inspiring because Steve Jobs let nothing stop him. Some times he would get very sad and cry. Then he was done and on to changing the world again. Let’s not…fit in. Let’s be the best me, we can be. Let’s be a rebel if we must!

“A Blink of an Eye…”

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  I just got inspired by my dear friend and fellow blogger to write something. I love it when that happens!  The part about Christmastime that I love the most, are the magical lights that  are mischieviously nestled in the most unexpected places…on rooftops….on railings, on the side of a beautiful home. They are the “unexpected joys” to behold as one drives..or better yet,  one strolls on by hand in hand with their loved ones. Christmas can be a festival of grace and love. It can also bring us into a place of lonliness and despair if we let our mind hold the reigns for too long.

I fell down a flight of stairs last nite. Couldn’t even tell you what happened. It wasn’t slippery. I have been very stressed as of late. I could tell you my sad stories but why? It ‘s like one of the “Old Timers” telling their tales of sickness…My father always liked to say…”I could “complain” but who wants to listen?”  The miracle is…(and Christmas truely is a time of miracles for all of us.) The miracle is for me…that I am CHOOSING to expect what I WANT…not what appears to lie before me. (Ha Ha! Pun intended!)

I continue to be grateful for the many many blessings I have around me. I continue to be grateful for the many blessings I feel coming my way and it fills me up in a “whole” different kind of way.

Take my son for instance. He is the  one that is smiling from ear to ear  on your right, as you view  the photo above. He is now almost 24. He is my best teacher. He is kind,GENIUS  kind of smart (ok, I’ve  got my brag book out now!) he is generous, he is an old soul full of love. And he is very funny. He  unabashedly loves me so much! Take my family: they are all so Regal to me. Princes and Princess’s living their lives, giving their generousities and love to the world where ever they see the need. They keep me filled with hope. Take my roomie. She many times, silently loves me thru the thick and the thin. We have great coffee klatch talks with our delicious “butterfly coffee” and we come to new awakenings about ourselves and our worlds.

These and so much more are my “festival of lights”…my reasons for loving myself through the rough patches. These are the secret lights, mischieviously nestled in the most unexpected places..If we look…we all have our “holders of the light and hope” for us, our street light beacons…kind of people in our lives. My son has grown from a teeny tiny miracle in my tummy, to a huge beacon of light for me…in a blink of an eye!  I know that troubles come and go…in a blink of an eye…but it certainly can feel like a lifetime of trouble when it is happening “to you”. When I feel that “trouble comes lookin for me”, especially at Christmastime, I know that those beacons of light on the rooftops, the railings, the trees, the snowmen, the wreaths on the door….everywhere you look…those are my messages to let MY light shine, no matter what my “circumstances” appear to be, and to trust in faith,hope and love, and LIGHT!

HAIR

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I have been told  that I have “Horse Hair” and found out that this was a compliment. I love horses so that sits quite well with me. The only problem is that for the last nine months, I have barely had ANY hair! If you watch this video, it may bring back fond memories of the hippie days when we “let our freak hair fly” as David Crosby serenaded us in “Almost Cut my Hair” back in the revolutionary sixties.

 

From time to time in our lives, we all cut our hair or restyle it or if you are a true girlie girl…usually hilite  it with other fun colours. Boys too, I should add. We all have our reasons that we need that big change. Mine was a much bigger and longer change then I could have ever imagined. I have done this many times. Sometimes even deciding that I was  now a “hair surgeon”and I could easily cut off and restyle my golden brown locks myself!  I’m actually pretty good, so I have had some “regrets” but nothing I didn’t blunder thru in those ensuing weeks of half hiding from my friends and praying it looked as good as they lied and told me it did.  This last “Haircut”  was very different. I’m not blaming ANYONE. Not even Me. Not the stylist (I TOLD them to do it)…not anyone. I just never realized…HOW BIG MY FACE AND HEAD ARE until I slowly walked out of there in utter shock and awe, with barely a whisp of nothingness to run my hands thru. I had my reasons that I wanted to look REALLY different then who I have been up until now, but that story is in another blog for another time….hint hint…it has a photo of a belly dancing beauty in the blog. HA!

 

So. I went on to face “the darker side of me”. Men were no longer looking at me , or if they were I believe it was to silently decide if I was a lipstick lesbian, or played for the other team, which I …at times in my frustrations with men actually wished I could …but alas I am  forever bound to the love of men.  Every time I looked in the mirror these last nine months, I would shudder at the bleak landscape of  brown flatbed  “grass” that looked constantly like it just got mowed. But it was on top of my head! And I had to “wear” it!

Now that I have long gorgeous locks again…well…the horse hair strands are now at LEAST an inch and a half long!….I am coming out of my long winters nap…my hibernation as a woman. All of a sudden and I mean really all of a sudden I am starting to look like a woman again. And feel like one. I believe I had to do this. I had much strife, and trials and tribulations to deal with recently…an ongoing template of bad to worse nitemares in my life. All Dark. All the Dark side. All ….my secrets. You know what they say. “You are only as sick as your secrets,” And I certainly have not “felt pretty” finally letting them all out…finally letting them all go….finally not “Protecting” the horrid perpetrators of my long lost innocence. I just couldn’t feel pretty doing it. It was so ugly. It was so shameful and dirty and I had to dig hard deep into my masculine strength to bear witness to all that my femininity was finally washing free of.

Just YESTERDAY….I turned a big corner. It just happened the kind of  way when a new little baby gives you a smile with her big blue eyes and you just met her …kind of joy in the minute, happening. It takes you happily by surprise and feels so great! You can’t even really  describe it. It’s like the veil came off. And you can see again. You can trust again. You can feel “worthy” of the life you have always wanted and you feel alive again and you feel PRETTY again and you don’t have to sell your soul anymore ever again for this natural right of passage!

 

So…for me. I had to feel “stripped” of my beauty God gave me. I had to BE the UGLY that was my secret past. And almost relive it but in a soul retrieving kind of way. I’m wearing my red flannel winter shirt right now,  and my snow flake PJ bottoms and I feel beautiful. I don’t want to take them off. I’m getting my hair back and I am getting my life back and I am so grateful. There is alot of power in “Hair”.