Two from Houston said yes to buying this house. She Googled me, found my blogs, including The Light Story and said it’s everything they’ve been looking for.
August first, me and two furries are out wandering, looking for a place to land.
A favorite would be a writer’s quiet spot (no bustling city apartment for me, people above-and-below), a safe place for 11 lb. Jackson dog to fly, cat to lord over. Cabin in the woods perhaps? Collect a couple other writers and land in a sprawling farm house full of light, peace, surrounded by animals and nature?
Everywhere I can, I’m simplifying in preparation for what will come.
Sometimes, I wonder what’s ahead. I think about Mary Oliver’s question, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
I muse about it. I let it go.
A little later, I remember her words, “Listen. Are you breathing just a little and calling it a life?”
I notice I’m breathing just a little. I pause and breathe deeper.
A hummingbird comes to my window. My heart lifts. (How can a thing with wings cause so much happiness?) Thank god for birds.
There are also many butterfly visits to these same flowers. Thank god for butterflies, too.
I do especially love things that fly. I also love anything with roots that’s blooming.
Another line from one of Mary Oliver’s poems crosses my mind: “I want to be improbable, beautiful and afraid of nothing, as though I had wings.”
She said, “I believe in kindness. Also in mischief. Also in singing, especially when singing is not necessarily prescribed.”
I sing a little. (Singing helps everything. Immediately.)
Returning to the kitchen, I place dishes, vanilla, and spices back into newly painted cupboards and sort as I go. Do I love this cup? This sauce pan, this plate, this cinnamon tea…
The simpler I get, the more clear I become.
I might love clarity more than anything I own. Clarity is valuable anytime, but especially in the coming days.
Simplicity is Freedom
by Mary Oliver
When I moved from one house to another there were many things I had no room for. What does one do? I rented a storage space. And filled it. Years passed. Occasionally I went there and looked in, but nothing happened, not a single twinge of the heart.
As I grew older the things I cared about grew fewer, but were more important. So one day I undid the lock and called the trash man. He took everything.
I felt like the little donkey when his burden is finally lifted. Things! Burn them, burn them! Make a beautiful fire! More room in your heart for love, for the trees! For the birds who own nothing – the reason they can fly.
“Meadowlark” from The Baker’s Wife is a song about a woman recalling a favorite story from her childhood which touched her young heart so deeply that it always made her cry.
The first half of the song tells the story she remembers, and the second half describes how she takes the crucial step of applying what the story taught her.
The story is about a blind meadowlark who has a voice like an angel. And lucky for her, she gets taken in by an old king who loves her and promises her plenty of food and riches if she will sing for him and set him free.
As the story goes, the meadowlark agrees. But one day while she is singing by the water, the Sun God hears her in his flight. And he is so touched by her singing that he swoops down and brings her the gift of sight!
He promises her that they will dance on the coral beaches and make a feast of the plums and the peaches — if she will come fly with him. He beckons, “Just as far as your vision reaches, fly with me!”
But the meadowlark turns him down because of her loyalty to the old king.
So the Sun God leaves, and when the king comes downstairs that day, he finds his meadowlark has died.
And the woman recalling the story sings, “Every time I heard that part, I cried…”
Before My Past Once Again Can Blind Me
As the song shifts to her present circumstances, we hear the woman begin to apply the wisdom from the story to her love life. We witness her working things through.
You see, standing before her is a new chance at love and she notices she is hesitating.
Have you been there?
Are you there now?
Are you hesitating about something you really want to do?
Maybe it’s time to be a little braver
about creating a new path for ourselves, in love or otherwise.
Maybe it’s time for us to allow ourselves to be lifted to a new place and say to ourselves, “I’ve got to go… fly away, Meadowlark! Fly away on a silver morning!”
In the song, the woman knows that if she doesn’t give this new relationship a whirl, she will regret it. So she makes up her mind. She decides to fly away and give it a go “before my past once again can blind me.”
Is This Your Time?
For many of us, perhaps it’s time to make a new decision or chart a new course instead of being influenced so heavily by what has come before.
Dr. Chris Michaels, author of The Power of You encourages: “I believe the spiritual journey you are on is right for you, and the challenges you face have been specifically chosen to bring you closer to Love. I believe you are a sacred and holy being, and should be treated as such. I believe the time has come for you to awaken to the power that lies dormant within you.”
This week, I wish you bravery, and the strength of clarity. Be an explorer! Be an adventurer! Be a leap frogger!
And, as you listen, let the song inspire you to let go of your personal version of “old ways of thinking and being.” Allow yourself to do a 180 if that’s what’s in your heart. Or simply try on something new — see how it feels and give it a test run. According to many sources, this weekend is an especially auspicious time to turn over a new leaf or to change your course completely and begin anew.
Today, I’m sharing a story about how I accidentally accomplished something on my bucket list. I ran through an exit gate while looking the other way. The hood of my car is scratched up, and one windshield wiper is a mess, but let’s have a good laugh about how we never expect what “getting what we want” includes!
It seems to be a growing fad these days to call someone a narcissist, or declare they are toxic.
Political name-calling is similar—we assign politicians and voters to categories, and brush them off as if they are unintelligent, inferior, or even worthless.
By labeling others, we miss their humanity. We gloss over their struggle, their best effort at dealing with life. We dismiss them.
We do to them what we believe they are doing to others.
Look past a label, and in the soft light of day, there stands a person like you or like me, coping as best they can. At the end of the day, no friend, parent, or lover making conscious choices intends to be mean, or to ignore, or to embellish. There is always more to the story.
If we label others, then for sure we label ourselves. We trap ourselves into believing we are less than. Or not enough. Or we don’t give ourselves the time and forgiveness to work through our “stuff.” Maybe, if we stopped accusing others of narcissism, we could forgive ourselves for those moments when we were narrow-minded, inconsiderate, or afraid.
When it comes to labels, nobody wins.
So, my dear people, I suggest we peer a little deeper into ourselves to investigate a need to separate ourselves from others by tacking them with a label filled with disdain or scorn.
It is my wish that you view this video and take it to heart.