My last post was called “Illuminations”. That word was in my mind when I awoke from an afternoon nap on Sunday and I heard it in my mind over and over the rest of the day. Not knowing why that word visited me, I thought about what illuminations meant to me and quickly associated it with those moments of great clarity and synchronization that come into being when I’m on an inspired path. After writing my blog about illumination, I reached for a book to read before going to sleep. By my bed sit three or four books that I am actively reading at any given time and another six or more books that I plan to read. One of the newest books in my stack was “The Twelfth Insight” by James Redfield. You may remember that the first step on this path of learning about the Law of Attraction was when my man gave me the book “The Celestine Prophecy” by the same author and the first in what would become a series with “The Twelfth Insight” the most recent addition. Not long ago, I saw the book in a store and it called to me, so I had no choice but to bring it home (Other avid readers and book purchasers will understand exactly what I mean!). I was knee-deep in three other books and had many more waiting in line, so I had no intention of reading my newest purchase for quite awhile. But, Sunday night “The Twelfth Insight” called to me just as it had in the bookstore, so I had not choice but to pick it up and start reading. I quickly realized that the book was about what I called illumination in my blog and what Redfield names synchronicity, based on the writings of Dr. Carl Jung. Reading that book was the next step on my path and was the perfect follow-up to my blog.
My point is that if you are open to synchronicity, it will happen. One unexpected step follows another. A word leads to a blog leads to a book leads to. . .what? I am not sure yet, but I have no doubt that its all leading somewhere, to something that is part of my manifestation process. Reading “The Twelfth Insight” has reminded me that I am a little off track when it comes to my Manifesting Mount Dora project. Understandably so, I think, with all that’s happened in my life recently, but still its time to reconnect with my manifestation project.
It has been two months since we’ve been to Mount Dora. Time to reconnect with my home-to-be! Even my man mentioned, without knowing I was thinking the same thing, that he was missing Mount Dora. So, we now have plans to spend three days there this month. I have been neglecting my Optimist Creed and my affirmations - time to reintroduce those to my daily routine. I wrote in another post about the guided meditation that I discovered and which helped me with my sleeping problems, but, for some unknown reason, I failed to do the meditation for a whole week. And, yes, my insomnia quickly returned. I am proud to say that I have meditated the last three nights and have slept soundly and greeted the morning feeling rejuvenated and energetic.
When I first started these posts back in March I wrote about how manifesting requires high energy levels so eating better and exercising are important. I did fairly well with that commitment, but once my stress levels reach mountaintop heights, my healthier diet took a hiatus. And, when the Floridian summer heat and humidity took up residence, my willingness to walk regularly waned - my three-to-four-times-a-week walks became one or two, maybe, and even those were shorter and less strenuous. During the school year, I was getting up 45 minutes earlier than usual to see my grandson off to school, usually preparing his breakfast as well. His school ended last Friday and since I am accustomed to getting up earlier and since I am meditating again and waking up with energy, I started walking in the morning before the heat and humidity settle in turning each day into a Turkish steam bath. I’ve also been eating more fruits and vegetables and opting for local and organic produce when possible.
When faced with stress and grief, it is easy, and understandable, that we get sidetracked from our goals and our commitments. There is only so much we can deal with at one time. But, as soon as possible, it is important to return to our healthy and spiritual practices. One of my main sources of stress was my mom’s missing Last Will and Testament. Without it, handling and settling her estate and financial affairs was going to be difficult, time-consuming and emotionally draining. Friends in her state had been searching for it since her death in late April. By late May, we were all beginning to wonder if, in spite of what she’d told us, the will actually existed (none of us had ever seen it). On the Sunday before Memorial Day, I decided to ask my angels and the Universe for help and I put out a request that my mom’s will be located before the end of May, which was just four days away. Three days later I received a call - her will was found.
Another interesting story of synchronicity happened last month. In mid-May I met a young woman, who had recently moved to Gainesville. She told me she was a writer and she specifically mentioned poetry. Wild Iris Bookstore hosts the Feminist Poetry Open Mic once a month and I told my new acquaintance about the group. She promised to be at the next show and asked if I read my poems there. I told her that although I attend the Open Mic and love the poetry readings, I had not written poetry in 30 years or more and that most of my poetry writing was done when I was in high school and college. She chastised me for not writing. “I write, though,” I objected, “Just not poetry. I write a blog and stories and I journal.” Those words did not satisfy her and she gave me an assignment to write a poem about the last 30+ years and read it at the next Open Mic. I laughed to myself, thinking that I had enough pressure in my life without feeling obligated to write a poem at the command of someone I’d just met. I did think about it though, several times, but no inspiration came to me and I pushed aside the nagging thoughts. Over the Memorial Day weekend, when I was house and animal sitting for friends in the country and had plenty of time to relax, I again thought of her assignment, but was not inspired to write. I asked the Universe to inspire me if writing a poem was what I should do. Two days later, three hours before the Open Mic, the inspiration arrived and I wrote:
"I Used To Write Poetry"
I used to write poetry, I said,
Long, long ago.
A different lifetime.
A younger time, a time of war.
You know,
War creates emotion;
Emotion creates poems,
Back then, but not now.
Oh, sure, we do have a war
Now.
But war poetry is for the young,
And I am no longer young.
So, she said, write of the last 35 years.
Hmm, I thought.
You mean,
The time after that war,
Before this war,
And the one before,
And the one before that?
Hmm, what happened over those 35 years?
We ended THAT war,
The war that tore us apart.
We swore there'd never be another,
But there were
Others,
Too many others.
We started some, ended some,
And have one
That lasts
Forever.
Hmm, what happened over those 35 years?
Cocaine was fashionable
And then not.
Crack was in
And then out.
Even heroin made a comeback,
Just like Steven Tyler.
Now there's meth,
And, Red Bull.
Hmm, what happened over those 35 years?
Disco was in,
Then out.
Now Barry Gibb
and Donna Summer
Are dead.
Just like disco.
Country was in,
Then not.
They say
The Rhinestone Cowboy
Lives in Tokyo now
And sometimes visits and
Dances on the streets of Manhattan.
Hmm, what happened over those 35 years?
Oh, yeah,
We were attacked!
How dare they!
We were frightened.
Not us!
We were vengeful.
So American!
We fought back
Well, we fought someone,
Maybe not the right someone,
But someone.
We have to fight someone,
To regain our dignity.
Now we have a war that never ends,
And it may not be the right war,
But is is OUR war, dammit!
The war to regain our dignity.
Hmm, what happened over those 35 years?
We got rich and then very poor,
And we got sad,
Then very mad.
We came together,
To be torn apart by
Politicians and
Policemen,
Like Ohio State,
Berkeley,
The Summer of Love.
But, now its Zuccoti Park
Times Square
And San Diego.
And, and. . .
Funny, not that much has changed,
After all,
In 35 years.
And, I guess,
After all,
You don't have to be young
To write of war.
But, you do have to be young
To fight a war.
That has not changed.
35 years, 35 YEARS!
And, sadly,
Nothing much has changed.
Oddly, my new friend did not come to the Open Mic, so she missed hearing my poem. We had become Facebook friends so I sent the poem to her in a Facebook message, but she has not responded. In fact, she has not posted anything on Facebook since the week we met. Maybe I will encounter her again or maybe not. Perhaps, she appeared just to be my inspiration angel - another piece of synchronicity in this unwinding tale of manifestation.
My point is that if you are open to synchronicity, it will happen. One unexpected step follows another. A word leads to a blog leads to a book leads to. . .what? I am not sure yet, but I have no doubt that its all leading somewhere, to something that is part of my manifestation process. Reading “The Twelfth Insight” has reminded me that I am a little off track when it comes to my Manifesting Mount Dora project. Understandably so, I think, with all that’s happened in my life recently, but still its time to reconnect with my manifestation project.
It has been two months since we’ve been to Mount Dora. Time to reconnect with my home-to-be! Even my man mentioned, without knowing I was thinking the same thing, that he was missing Mount Dora. So, we now have plans to spend three days there this month. I have been neglecting my Optimist Creed and my affirmations - time to reintroduce those to my daily routine. I wrote in another post about the guided meditation that I discovered and which helped me with my sleeping problems, but, for some unknown reason, I failed to do the meditation for a whole week. And, yes, my insomnia quickly returned. I am proud to say that I have meditated the last three nights and have slept soundly and greeted the morning feeling rejuvenated and energetic.
When I first started these posts back in March I wrote about how manifesting requires high energy levels so eating better and exercising are important. I did fairly well with that commitment, but once my stress levels reach mountaintop heights, my healthier diet took a hiatus. And, when the Floridian summer heat and humidity took up residence, my willingness to walk regularly waned - my three-to-four-times-a-week walks became one or two, maybe, and even those were shorter and less strenuous. During the school year, I was getting up 45 minutes earlier than usual to see my grandson off to school, usually preparing his breakfast as well. His school ended last Friday and since I am accustomed to getting up earlier and since I am meditating again and waking up with energy, I started walking in the morning before the heat and humidity settle in turning each day into a Turkish steam bath. I’ve also been eating more fruits and vegetables and opting for local and organic produce when possible.
When faced with stress and grief, it is easy, and understandable, that we get sidetracked from our goals and our commitments. There is only so much we can deal with at one time. But, as soon as possible, it is important to return to our healthy and spiritual practices. One of my main sources of stress was my mom’s missing Last Will and Testament. Without it, handling and settling her estate and financial affairs was going to be difficult, time-consuming and emotionally draining. Friends in her state had been searching for it since her death in late April. By late May, we were all beginning to wonder if, in spite of what she’d told us, the will actually existed (none of us had ever seen it). On the Sunday before Memorial Day, I decided to ask my angels and the Universe for help and I put out a request that my mom’s will be located before the end of May, which was just four days away. Three days later I received a call - her will was found.
Another interesting story of synchronicity happened last month. In mid-May I met a young woman, who had recently moved to Gainesville. She told me she was a writer and she specifically mentioned poetry. Wild Iris Bookstore hosts the Feminist Poetry Open Mic once a month and I told my new acquaintance about the group. She promised to be at the next show and asked if I read my poems there. I told her that although I attend the Open Mic and love the poetry readings, I had not written poetry in 30 years or more and that most of my poetry writing was done when I was in high school and college. She chastised me for not writing. “I write, though,” I objected, “Just not poetry. I write a blog and stories and I journal.” Those words did not satisfy her and she gave me an assignment to write a poem about the last 30+ years and read it at the next Open Mic. I laughed to myself, thinking that I had enough pressure in my life without feeling obligated to write a poem at the command of someone I’d just met. I did think about it though, several times, but no inspiration came to me and I pushed aside the nagging thoughts. Over the Memorial Day weekend, when I was house and animal sitting for friends in the country and had plenty of time to relax, I again thought of her assignment, but was not inspired to write. I asked the Universe to inspire me if writing a poem was what I should do. Two days later, three hours before the Open Mic, the inspiration arrived and I wrote:
"I Used To Write Poetry"
I used to write poetry, I said,
Long, long ago.
A different lifetime.
A younger time, a time of war.
You know,
War creates emotion;
Emotion creates poems,
Back then, but not now.
Oh, sure, we do have a war
Now.
But war poetry is for the young,
And I am no longer young.
So, she said, write of the last 35 years.
Hmm, I thought.
You mean,
The time after that war,
Before this war,
And the one before,
And the one before that?
Hmm, what happened over those 35 years?
We ended THAT war,
The war that tore us apart.
We swore there'd never be another,
But there were
Others,
Too many others.
We started some, ended some,
And have one
That lasts
Forever.
Hmm, what happened over those 35 years?
Cocaine was fashionable
And then not.
Crack was in
And then out.
Even heroin made a comeback,
Just like Steven Tyler.
Now there's meth,
And, Red Bull.
Hmm, what happened over those 35 years?
Disco was in,
Then out.
Now Barry Gibb
and Donna Summer
Are dead.
Just like disco.
Country was in,
Then not.
They say
The Rhinestone Cowboy
Lives in Tokyo now
And sometimes visits and
Dances on the streets of Manhattan.
Hmm, what happened over those 35 years?
Oh, yeah,
We were attacked!
How dare they!
We were frightened.
Not us!
We were vengeful.
So American!
We fought back
Well, we fought someone,
Maybe not the right someone,
But someone.
We have to fight someone,
To regain our dignity.
Now we have a war that never ends,
And it may not be the right war,
But is is OUR war, dammit!
The war to regain our dignity.
Hmm, what happened over those 35 years?
We got rich and then very poor,
And we got sad,
Then very mad.
We came together,
To be torn apart by
Politicians and
Policemen,
Like Ohio State,
Berkeley,
The Summer of Love.
But, now its Zuccoti Park
Times Square
And San Diego.
And, and. . .
Funny, not that much has changed,
After all,
In 35 years.
And, I guess,
After all,
You don't have to be young
To write of war.
But, you do have to be young
To fight a war.
That has not changed.
35 years, 35 YEARS!
And, sadly,
Nothing much has changed.
Oddly, my new friend did not come to the Open Mic, so she missed hearing my poem. We had become Facebook friends so I sent the poem to her in a Facebook message, but she has not responded. In fact, she has not posted anything on Facebook since the week we met. Maybe I will encounter her again or maybe not. Perhaps, she appeared just to be my inspiration angel - another piece of synchronicity in this unwinding tale of manifestation.
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