Connections

I haven't written in a long time - not here, not anywhere else.  I am still struggling to reconnect with my Manifesting Mount Dora project, but, more than that, life events have interrupted what may have been called "normal".

My man's youngest sibling, a sister, passed away last week after being in a coma for more than a week.  Her  condition and subsequent passing were a shock and his family is still reeling from the loss.

The same day we learned of his sister's condition, one of my dearest friends was hit head-on by a much larger vehicle on the interstate.  Fortunately, she had no life-threatening injuries and no damage to her head, spine, face, neck or internal organs.  However, her body is a jigsaw of breaks, sprains, dislocations and lacerations.  Three operations later, her parts and pieces are reconnected and beginning the healing process, but her recovery will be long and challenging.

These two sad events reminded me how we are all interconnected.  I was not in a coma, I did not die, I was not in an auto accident, I did not go through surgery, but still I was affected by each of these events.  I did not physically feel the pain, but I endured it on an emotional and mental level and I feel the exhaustion of knowing that someone you love is hurting and of the smothering effect of empathy and concern.

Here, the night before Christmas, I feel very disconnected from the holiday hoopla.  I am going through the motions for my grandchildren and my daughter, not feeling the anticipation that normally grows at this time of December.  This year has been so unexpected - sometimes exciting, sad, inspiring and disappointing; often challenging, confusing and discouraging.  Many times I was so hopeful and encouraged and other times I cried for understanding and hope.  Right now, as this year winds to a close, I am taking stock of what I am thinking and feeling.  Weariness is the word that first comes to mind.  I am very tired and no hours of sleep ease the exhaustion.  I have a strong sense of resignation, as though nothing I can do will make a difference.  Intellectually, I don't know if that is true, but that is how I FEEL.  January starts my busiest work time of the year and no matter how deep I delve internally, I cannot find a well of energy big enough to tackle the tasks that come my way at the start of every year.

There is much for which I am grateful. I and my immediate family are relatively healthy.  We have a comfortable home, food on the table and the comforts of modern life.  I have work and a steady income.  My grandchildren fill my life with laughter and love.  My daughter fills me with pride.  My man still makes me laugh and warms our home with song and music.  I know I am blessed.  And, yet I am also disappointed in a deep way I cannot explain in words and I feel guilty and ashamed of this disappointment.

I volunteer at and am on the board of directors for a feminist bookstore.  That store, the two women who own it, the staff, and the patrons feed my soul.  For more than a month, due to family and work responsibilities and all these unexpected events, I have not been able to work at the store or even spend time there.  The store closed last Saturday, temporarily, in preparation of reopening in a different location.  I was excited about the move and all the wonderful changes that come along with it, but I have missed out on the last few weeks at the current location. Friday evening I carved out a couple of hours to go to the bookstore and there my soul was fed.  I shopped the great moving sales, then sunk into a chair and talked to Erica, one of the store owners, who made me feel missed and appreciated.  We talked about everything and about nothing.  It was wonderful.  I relaxed in a way I haven't in several weeks.  I felt a sense of reconnecting with something that had been hiding in a small, dark corner and that is when I wanted to write again.

When I started this blog in March, I thought that by the end of the year I would be closer to manifesting Mount Dora - even if just a little closer - and on this 24th day of December I feel further away that I did in March.  I see clearly than I am still needed here.  My daughter and grandchildren are entrenched in life in our town and I don't see them being ready for a move any time soon.  I also know that I am needed for my injured friend and her partner as the long healing and rehabilitation period starts.  I want to be of assistance in any way I can to make this difficult journey a little easier for them.  And, I can understand that those and other reasons may be why I am not making progress toward the new life I want to create and I am okay with the fact that I am needed right here, right now.  My question is, why almost one year ago, was I given what seemed to be a very clear vision of a life in Mount Dora?  Why was that passion born in me if there is no hope of it becoming reality any time in the near future?  Was I given one more unattainable desire just so I could experience more disappointment?

As I see my friend's life suddenly and unexpectedly changed forever due to an accident she could not avoid, I am even more aware of the fragility of life and that we have no promise of a tomorrow or of a tomorrow that even slightly resembles today.  How many more days do I have to live or how many days do I have to live in a condition even similar to the one I enjoy now?  The life I envisioned in Mount Dora was a life with me as I am now.  Perhaps I could get there 10, 15 or 20 years from now, but that would not be the life that I am visualizing now because I will certainly not be the person I am now.  My vision of life in Mount Dora most definitely includes the man that shares my life now and, with his age being several years in advance of mine, I know that the delay of my manifestation means that he could very well not be present to share it with me or may not be in good enough health to truly enjoy the attainment of a dream we have both nurtured.

As usual, or maybe even more than usual, I have no answers.  I am just a woman writing a blog about - about what?  I am not even sure how to answer that.  Is it still about Manifesting Mount Dora?  Was it ever Manifesting Mount Dora?  Was it about what I want or about who I am or about who I want to be?  I cannot even think that abstractly right now.  I am ending 2012 more confused that I started and I have no idea what to expect or, if I dare, hope for in 2013.

Appreciation

I am overwhelmed by all the wonderful words of encouragement that I received after my last two rather "down" posts.  I appreciate everyone who commented and who contacted me.

I know my last two posts were depressing and reeked of defeat and surrender, but I don't apologize for what I wrote because it was true to how I felt and still feel.  I do, however, apologize if my words made anyone else feel defeated or hopeless - that was never my intent.  I am just trying to write as honestly as I can about my experiences during this Manifesting Mount Dora project.  My experiences - good or bad - are MY experiences, not yours.  My experiences may be stemming from who-knows-what from years ago or even karma from a past life, if that is possible.  Perhaps, I am just not very good at manifesting or I am too old or too tired to be engaged so deeply in manifesting.  Maybe what I wanted to manifest was not right for me, maybe the timing was wrong.  I  hope any of you who are also in the midst of a manifesting project find great success and I beg you not to be discouraged by my experiences.  In fact, I hope you will prove that you can manifest anything you want.  How happy I would be to know that someone who read this blog was inspired to start their own manifesting project and reached great success with it.

My feelings have not changed much since my last post, although I have a stronger sense of acceptance.  I still feel this project is either dead or, at least, dormant, which does not necessarily mean I will stop writing this blog, although I may write less often.  Even a death is a process, so I am not quite through with this project yet.  I also do not dismiss the chance of a rebirth - like a phoenix from the ashes.  Right now, I don't know, and I really can't even think about, how it could possibly come back to life.  Someone commented that she believed I was reaching my "tipping point" and that I would still experience success.  Thank you, Christine, for that encouragement and I hope your statement proves to be true.

In spite of the sadness I am left with now, I know, without a doubt, that I am blessed.  I have a wonderful family, a decent business that may not be my passion but certainly is interesting and rewarding in its own way, many true friends, fairly good health, a comfortable home in a nice neighborhood, many books to read, the wonderful town of Mount Dora to visit and a host of other blessings.  I may be down, but I am not ungrateful.  I still love and appreciate the laughter of my grandchildren and their unfettered hugs and kisses; conversations with my daughter, usually late at night, and her radiant smile; the warm touch of my man and the laughter he brings into my life; my friends who support and love me no matter what; the wagging tales of my dogs and the loud greetings from my cat; the work that pays the bills and gives me satisfaction; long walks; trips to New Jersey, New York City and Mount Dora; books and more books to read; movies that make me feel warm and happy; and so much more.  I did not start the Manifesting Mount Dora project because I was unhappy or dissatisfied - I started it because I wanted something a little more and as an experiment to see if I could manifest something big without "making" it happen.

Unfortunately, as we grow older there are fewer years, and especially good years, left for the realization of a dream.  During the past eight years of my "new life", I've had other dreams, ones that I was not so focused on, but ones that did fill my imagination for prolonged periods of time, and those did not come to realization either. I deeply feel the passing of time now and I know that eight years is a small portion of 58 years, but they are a huge portion of this later stage of my life.  I also know my energy is not what it was even eight years ago and perhaps I would no longer even be able to physically participate in the dreams I once had.  Fifty-eight is not old and I don't feel like I am ready for a nursing home, but I do feel different than I did even a year ago.  That is hard for me to admit, but it is true.

My man told me I am needed by many.  That has been true all my life.  I've always been "taking care" of others - human and animal - personal and professional.  The new life I imagined in Mount Dora interested me, in part, because I hoped to concentrate a little more on what I want to do, not on what needs to be done.  But, I guess what I want to do is not what I am supposed to be doing.  Fortunately, what I am doing, has rewards.

I don't have answers.  I am just here, living one day at a time, and trying very hard to not think about what I have spent so much time thinking about during the last eight months.

Honesty and Sadness

When I started this blog, I promised myself I would be honest about what was happening in my life and how I was feeling - the good and the bad.  It hasn't been easy.  Being so open in a public forum is often difficult.  And, today, it is especially challenging.

I am really down.  I feel like manifesting Mount Dora or anything else is a joke, a waste of time, a pipe dream.  Saying that is so hard for me, but that is exactly how I feel.  I feel old and tired and there is just no energy left in me to do any more than the day-to-day activities that are necessary.

When I was in Mount Dora last weekend, I felt disconnected from life there.  Usually, as I enter Mount Dora, I feel as though I am arriving home, but not last week.  No longer could I see myself living there or doing anything other than what I do week-in-and-week-out in my present life, in my present location.

Over the last week I have thought about other big dreams I've had that never came to fruition.  Some I had before I knew about the Law of Attraction, but I know I was using many of the same manifesting processes as just part of the normal activities of hoping and dreaming.  Later, I consciously applied the Law of Attraction to other dreams, although not to the extent I am now.  As I look back on those dreams - and I am talking about big ones - none of them came true.  As I have often said before, maybe those dreams were not the best for me and maybe I am better off that they were not manifested, but, as often as I have believed that, now I am not sure.  And, if that is true, who is to say that my dream of manifesting Mount Dora is not the same and that the result will not be the same?  How long do I keep trying before I give up?  How much more energy to I waste on something that may never come to pass?

I have also been struggling with memories of a former friend who died of cancer last month.  When I first met her she was studying to be a Law of Attraction facilitator under the tutelage of Jack Canfield and others.  She attended seminars and workshops and eventually received her certification.  She then had seminars and workshops of her own - some that I attended.  She also offered private sessions.  She joined networking groups around town to promote her business, but still she struggled and was eventually forced to give up the office she was renting.  Almost every day I drive past a building that she dreamed of owning as her personal home and office.  It is a lovely, older stone house that is zoned for both commercial and residential use.  She used all of her Law of Attraction knowledge to manifest that place, but it never happened.  I lost contact with her during the past two years, so I don't know all the details of her most recent activities, but I do know she died of cancer and I am sure that is not something she was trying to manifest.

I am disheartened to think of her and how her life ended and what I see as dreams she never manifested even though she knew more about manifesting than I do.  Yes, I know there are probably many other factors  of which I am not aware, but still I feel so much sadness when I think of how her life did not evolve the way she dreamed of and worked for.  She was one year older than me and she expected to live many more years and to manifest many more dreams.  I am two years shy of 60 and I feel my time is running out to fulfill my dreams and still have time to enjoy them.  Every day seems to bring another ache or pain, more tiredness, more disinterest in what used to hold my attention.      

Perhaps this disheartening feeling will pass; maybe I will get back on the manifesting path.  A friend in whom I recently confided suggested I let my Manifesting Mount Dora project "simmer" for awhile.  I guess that means to disengage myself and that seems to be happening anyway.  My man and I will be going to Mount Dora later this month and as much as I want to be excited about the trip, I'm not.  I look forward to the rest and to something different from my normal routine, but nothing more.

This is as brutally honest as I can be.  Hard to think about and hard to write, but true, nonetheless.  

Web of Disappointment

Life is full of expectations and disappointments.  Indeed, they go hand-in-hand.  We can only be disappointed if we had some sort of expectation.  Balancing the two is very difficult, as was once again shown to me in the past two weeks.

I don't want to live life without expectations.  Are not expectations related to wishes, dreams, plans and manifestations?  We dream or plan and we expect, with great hope, that our desire will come true.  But, then when our plans fall through or our dream does not pan out, we become disappointed.  The trick is to accept what did not happen without attaching a heavy emotion, like disappointment, to it, and that is not easy.  We can take a spiritual outlook of "It was not meant to be" or "Something better will come along in its place" or we can just shrug our shoulders and shake off any emotion that may have momentarily attached itself to us. Disappointment left to fester becomes discontentment and then dissatisfaction and finally, depression.  Ridding yourself of disappointment in what did not come to pass is important to your mental and emotional health.  

Those kind of disappointments, the ones involving expectations of what we tried to create, can be heart-breaking, but because the expectation probably started and ended with us, we are in total control of how we react and how we move forward.  Disappointment in others is different.  

I recently came across some old emails about a business some friends and I were planning to start.  It never came to pass.  Someone, or maybe all of us, dropped the ball.  There were feelings of disappointment that we did not get beyond the initial planning stages; there were feelings of disappointment in one or the other of us.  And, there were feelings of blame.  Who was responsible?  Who can we blame?  We, and by that I mean one or all of us, could regroup and move forward without the others or we could shrug our shoulders and say the timing most not have been right, the partnership was not solid enough, the interest was not as strong for all involved.  We did the shrugging thing.  In retrospect, I do think all of those statements were true and it was best that our business never got beyond the earliest stages of planning, but still there was disappointment at some level.  

Closer to my heart was a disappointment in someone that I experienced recently.  Someone who did not act as I thought was appropriate, someone who did not seem appreciative, someone who took advantage, someone who placed blame in the wrong place.  I believed in, trusted, defended and supported that person and now, I am disappointed.  I had expectations in someone else and those expectations were not met.  The disappointment was not limited to just me; others felt the same and we all paid a price, emotionally and financially. The situation was, and is, difficult and heart-breaking.  Disappointment itself is hard to accept, but when there are hard consequences that come with the disappointment, the feelings are more raw and more difficult to escape.  

It is necessary for those of us who had the expectations and now have the disappointments to release all the negativity, all the blame.  We will be dealing with consequences due to that person's behavior for quite awhile to come, but we need to do what has to be done and try not to blame, to try very hard to forgive.  That does not mean we condone what has happened.  It means we accept it as a lesson - for all of us.  Relationships may be altered or even severed - hopefully, not.  Reconciliation may come with time, but, for now, there is hurt all around.  I don't want anyone involved to be left bitter or to be afraid to trust and believe in someone in the future, but there is always a chance our disappointment will leave some of us with distrust.  I am not sure how to avoid that.  I think only time will help.  Sometimes we just have to stew for awhile and work through the feelings before we can move on.  Trying to sugar-coat the situation and the injured feelings is not the answer.  In fact, sugar-coating will just cause the hurt to fester and one day it will rise to the surface, unexpected and probably focused on something or someone not even associated with the original incident.

This past weekend, after dealing with the disappointment and its consequences, I took my daughter and grandchildren to Mount Dora for the town's annual Christmas street parade and boat parade.  A nice getaway, something to help us forget problems and hurt feelings, but instead I felt more disappointment.  I looked around my favorite town and felt like I would never be able to manifest a home there. Surely, the disappointment of the previous two weeks and my physical and emotional fatigue contributed to my down mood, but so did the fact that I am not any closer to what I am trying to manifest than I was when I started this project in March.

I am home and back in my regular schedule and still feeling a little sad - sad enough that I really had to push myself to write this post.  I keep telling myself that Manifesting Mount Dora is a journey and one in which the lessons learned may be the only result. Usually, I am okay with that, but not now.  Now I want something more hopeful, something that helps me through all the other disappointments and irritations.  January starts the busiest time of my work year and each year I find it harder to summon the strength and energy to tackle the 7-days-a-week work schedule I will have for two months.  And, this year, December is turning out to also be extremely busy.  Hope is what keeps us going when life is rough.  I am looking for a little hope and, yes, I know that my life is so abundant and I feel guilty for being disappointed and for feeling down.

Disappointment is a web, and I am caught in the middle of it right now.  Webs trap and hold.  I am there, held tight and wrapped up in disappointment.  Struggling against the web will just tighten its hold on me.  Telling myself that the web does not exist will not make it disappear.  Knowing that my web exists in an otherwise decent and often happy place does not change the confining environment of the web.  Feeling guilty for being caught in the web does not make the web any looser or easier to escape.  So, I will sit here and try to work within the confines of the web and I will wait for a breeze that blows the web apart or for time to loosen the strands that are holding me.  Perhaps time is my hope.  

Life in Reverse

I am behind in reading my O (Oprah) magazines.  I like them very much, but when a new issue arrives, I tend to read the “Contributors” page and one or two of the articles that really catch my attention and then the magazine gets hidden under other magazines, books or children’s toys and I forget about it.  Eventually my man adds the magazine to a stack in a basket where it sits for months.  Last week I gathered all those back issues with a pledge to read them ALL before the end of the year.  Today, I completed the February 2012 issue, in which there was an article named “You. . .In Six Words”.  This was the introduction:

“In November 2006, writer and editor Larry Smith issued a challenge to fans of his Web publication, SMITH Magazine. . .Smith asked his readers to describe their lives in six words.”

I thought, “That’s impossible!”  But, the article contained many examples that proved what I initially thought was impossible was, indeed, possible.   Here are some of the submissions in the article:

“Surfing life’s ripples, wishing for waves.” -------- Karen Barbier
“Might as well eat that cookie.” -------- Paula Deen
“I am more than a twin.” ------- Diane Campbell

I was inspired, but I am wordy.  How can I describe my life - 58 years of life - in six words, just six words?  Maybe 600, but six - I had my doubts, but I took the challenge.  

I started with individual words that I associate with myself until I identified an idea that captured my life as I view and define it right now.  In my head, the idea needed many more words than six, so I had to cut, trim and rearrange until I was left with a half dozen words.  Once I had the idea, the chopping block part was much easier than I expected and this was my final result:

Learning from living life in reverse.  

Recently, I considered how I am now, at the age of 58, undergoing so many experiences that most women have in their 20's or 30's, and when I was younger, I had experiences most don’t have until their later years.  I do, indeed, feel as though I am living life in reverse.

When I was a child and teenager, everyone thought I was at least 3 to 10 years older;  as an adult, people figure I am 10 to 15 years younger than my current age.  Living life in reverse.

My childhood home was in an rural area with only one other family with children within a mile.  All my other neighbors were adults 40 to 70 years old, and they were my companions.  On weekends, I rode my bike from house to house, sitting and talking with my older neighbors, playing board games with them, drinking lemonade, iced tea or hot chocolate, helping with their gardening and cooking.  At the age of 17, when friends my age were babysitting, I was working as a nurse’s assistant in a nursing home, surrounded by the elderly.  I felt more at ease with my patients than I did with most of my high school classmates.  During my child-bearing years, because my husband and I did not have children, we accepted the responsibility of looking after elderly parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles in our families.  When others our ages were changing diapers and planning play dates, we were picking up high blood pressure meds at pharmacies, sitting in hospital waiting rooms and taking garbage cans to the curb for those who could no longer do it.  It is just now that I am seeing people my age having those same experiences of elder-care.  Living life in reverse.

My parents were just shy of 40 when I was born and my mother died before reaching 40.  I experienced the death of a parent before I had a memory of that parent, but most people are in their 40's or 50's or even 60's before being forced to cope with the death of a mother or father. Living life in reverse.

In my late teens I experienced my first debilitating back injury.  During my 20's and most of my 30's, my activities were hampered by back pain.  At the age of 29, I sometimes walked with a cane to stabilize my spine.  At 58, my back feels stronger and I experience much less pain than I did 30 years ago.  Living life in reverse.

Most people my current age are resting after raising their children.  I did not have children and I adopted my daughter as a teenager, so I skipped the whole child-rearing experience, until now.  My daughter and her two small children have been living with me for more than two years and I am now having the experience of raising, well, helping to raise, small children.  I've changed more diapers in the last two years than I have in all my previous years combined.  I just had my premier tooth fairy experience when my grandson lost his first tooth this month.  For the first time, I am dropping off children at school in the morning and picking them up at after-school in the evening, telling bedtime stories, going to Christmas plays and planning birthday parties - all activities that most people experience before the age of 45.  Yes, I am a grandmother, but a grandmother learning to be a mother.  Living life in reverse.

While most couples in their early 50's begin making plans for their golden years of retirement, I was burying my husband (Yes, we were separated, but still married, when he passed) and figuring out how to make ends meet on one income.  Living life in reverse.

I owned my first home at the age of 21, and now, since the age of 50, I've been living in a rental house while most in my age group have paid off their mortgages.  Most people/couples search for their dream home during their 20's and 30's and it is now, at 58, that I have a goal of finding and acquiring my dream home - in Mount Dora, of course!  Living life in reverse.

General thinking says creativity is a product of the young, and most people I know experienced their strongest years of creativity before the age of 50, while I believe I am now entering the most creative phase of my life.  Living life in reverse.

With all of that said, my statement was actually “Learning from living life in reverse”.  What am I learning and why do my lessons come either earlier or later than those of others? That is the part I am still trying to figure out.  Although I did not realize it at the start of my Manifesting Mount Dora project, I now think one of the lessons of this journey is to discover why so many of my life experiences have occurred at non-traditional ages.

One lesson I can already identify is that age does not have to limit or define life.  Because of my association with older people in my younger years, I understand, respect and appreciate the age group I am entering.  Unlike many my age who feel their lives are almost ending, I don’t feel being over 50 has to limit who I am.  In fact, I believe I and my life are just getting better with each year that passes.  I may have slow down a little physically and tire a little more easily, but I meet these challenges and experiences that usually come at a younger age with all the energy I can muster and with a maturity and, I hope, wisdom that I did not possess years ago.  I appreciate the moments of surprise, tenderness, exhilaration and comfort in ways I could not in years pass.  The losses and disappointments and roadblocks in life are not as devastating as they once were and although I may be moving a little slower at this age, I pick myself up quicker than I did in my earlier years.

Living life in reverse does have its advantages and lessons.  I may be living a backwards life, but I am always moving forward.  

Miracle in the Night

It is a little after midnight as I write this.  About an hour ago, I was laying in bed, reading the last page of a book.  I closed the book, satisfied with the ending, and laid in my bed thinking of the story and feeling content and cozy.  Everyone in the house, but me, was asleep.  Silence engulfed me.  Even our neighborhood was unusually quiet for a Friday night.  I was ready to turn off my bedside light and go to sleep, but I couldn't. I sometimes experience insomnia, but that was not the case.  My eyes were drowsy and I was ready for a full night of sleep, but something was nagging me - this inexplicable feeling nudging me to get up and go outside.  Why?  I listened intently, but could not hear any worrisome sound and I could not remember any noise that my mind may have registered unconsciously as something of concern.  I breathed deeply - no smell of smoke or chemicals.   I could not identify a problem or a reason to leave the comfort of my bed, but still I felt compelled to go outside.

I tried to push the feeling aside.  I labeled it illogical, nonsensical, impractical and just plain silly, but it would not go away.  Finally, after ten minutes of unsuccessfully attempting to use logic to justify staying under my warm covers, I got up, through a sweater on over my pajamas, slipped on my sandals and tiptoed through the house so as not to wake up anyone with my silly nighttime prowl.  As slowly and quietly as possible, I opened the front door and ventured out into the dark, breezy coolness of this November night.

There were lights on in the three houses across the street, but no one and nothing stirred.  Other than some light traffic sounds from the busier corridor streets to the north and east of our neighborhood, I heard nothing.  I walked around my car and into the carport.  I looked around where our garbage can, recycling bins and charcoal grill are, but nothing was amiss. The plants that line the chest-high wall that makes up one side of the carport were all in place.  My wind chimes were still hanging in place and, since the nighttime breeze was coming from a different direction, they were silently motionless.

As I stood there feeling very cold and very foolish, I heard the soft grunting sounds that one of my rescue dogs makes.  I have two rescues, a 12 year-old mother and her 9 year-old daughter, who I’ve had for ten years and who live in our fenced backyard and sleep on our back porch.  I looked toward the back of the carport, which is separated from our backyard by a chain link fence, expecting to see mama dog standing there, wagging her tail and making her pig-like grunting sounds. But, even in the cloudy darkness, I could see she was not there.  And, yet, her distinctive guttural noises were very close.  I looked to my right and there she sat just inches from me!  What was she doing outside the fence?  How did she get out?  We have lived in this house for eight years and during the first two, when both dogs were much younger and much more spry, they escaped the backyard three times.  The fence is an old patchwork of different types of fencing and after each escape, we found and repaired another hole or gap we had missed the time before.  For six years, the two dogs had only left the backyard when they were leashed and ready to walk our neighborhood or to go to the vet’s office.

I reached down, petted mama dog and grasped her collar, concerned that she may run off.  Both dogs are skittish and easily frightened by loud noises, strange people and other dogs.  After two of the previous escapes, they ran off, scared and panicked, and were not found until hours later.  I did not want that to happen again.  With mama dog in hand, I turned my concern to daughter dog.  Did she escape too or was she still in the backyard?  Was she off running through the neighborhood or was she somewhere near by?  I called her name softly and she rounded the side of my car and joined her mother at my side.

I was so relieved to have them safely next to me and praised them for staying nearby and not leaving our property.  Since it was too dark to investigate the fence, I led the dogs into our Florida room, gave them dishes of water and made beds for them on the terrazzo floor, where they quickly curled up in search of sleep.  Tomorrow my man and I will find and repair the newest escape route in the fence, but, for now, the two dogs are safe, warm and comfortable in their temporary accommodations.

I cannot explain why I could not sleep or why I was nagged by a feeling that I must go outside.  Maybe an angel was whispering to me.  All I know is that if I had not followed that nudge to get up from my warm bed and go out into the chilly night, my dogs would likely be nowhere to be found come morning.

Perhaps this is not a huge miracle, but, to me, it is an amazing and inexplicable miracle, and I cannot help wondering why this experience came to me tonight.  Was it to urge me to be more aware of and to be more willing to follow my inner nudges and instincts?  Was it to teach me that there is always magic and magical happenings around me?  Was it to emphasize that the Universe/God/Source is always sending us helpful messages?  Was it to tell me that anything is possible and that I should practice more trust?  I believe it was for all these reasons and more.  This week, I was again feeling a little overwhelmed and concerned and Mount Dora and my dreams felt very far away.  Now, I feel like I am covered in magical dust and that anything, ANYTHING is possible.

Life is a Labyrinth

Nearly every month my man and I attend a crystal bowl concert/meditation at a local church.  Crystal bowls, also called singing bowls, are bowls of various sizes, but all larger than a typical dinner bowl, made of quartz crystal.  The quartz crystal is extremely resonant, producing lovely, harmonic sounds that you not only hear, but feel throughout your body.  The size and shape of a bowl determines its pitch.  Most bowls sit on the floor or on stands, but some are handheld, allowing the bowl musician to move around a room bringing the intense sounds close to those in attendance.  Crystal bowl concerts are performed for meditation purposes, to ease stress and to balance chakras.  Being present at a crystal bowl concert is a phenomenal experience.  The sounds are simultaneously soothing and vibrant.



At the concerts we attend, people choose to sit in the church seats or ample space is provided for people to lay down, often on yoga mats or blankets where they can rest, meditate and even sleep.  We both leave the monthly concerts feeling calm, centered and relaxed.  Once or twice a year, the church also has a labyrinth set up in the sanctuary.  The labyrinth is used as a walking meditation in conjunction with the crystal bowl concert.  Tonight’s concert included the labyrinth.

A labyrinth is an intricate design of paths that often flow in a circular pattern eventually leading to a center spot, much like a maze.  A walking meditation labyrinth may be a mat made of some sort of fabric that is placed on a large floor, such as a church sanctuary, or it can be a temporary design made of sand or stones in a courtyard.  People follow the paths of the labyrinth, while meditating or praying, until reaching the center where the participants often kneel or stand silently in prayer or meditation.  Sometimes the participants will follow the path from the center back out to the beginning of the labyrinth.  Tonight, as I followed the path of the labyrinth, I contemplated how those circular paths were so much like life.



I prefer linear paths.  Point A leads to Point B in a nice straight line, no detours, no curves, no surprises.  But, life is not linear.  From time to time, we may feel as if we are moving on a straight line, but rarely does that experience last for long.  Life has a way of taking our straight lines and making them elaborate circles, twisting and turning and coming back around as if starting at the beginning again.  Life is a labyrinth.

As I was walking the circular paths tonight, I noticed that a man who started the labyrinth several minutes ahead of me was often walking on a path just inches from my side and the woman who started the walking meditation just seconds in front of me was often on the other side of the labyrinth, as if she had begun long before me or long after me.  Isn't that the way our lives are?  We start off with people, like a sibling, a friend, a partner or spouse, a classmate or a fellow worker, just a little ahead of us or just slightly behind, but as we travel our paths we appear to go in different directions even when traveling the same route.  We are sometimes side-by-side and sometimes distances apart.  At times we may appear to be on a completely different road and other times we nearly bump into each other along our travels.

I noticed that some of the people walking the labyrinth took small, slow steps, while others walked a little faster.  Some paused often to contemplate, while others never stopped until reaching the center.  In life, I've noticed the same.  I started off on the same path as others in my life, but some us often took lengthy pauses and others seemed to rarely pause for more than a moment. Some moved forward slowly, while others reached their goals more quickly.  Some walk softly, some with more determination and some nearly danced.

But, no matter who walks the labyrinth or the journey of life, we each have a circular path.  No one’s journey is a straight line for very long.  Life takes curves.  We are moving straight ahead toward a goal and then there is a curve - one we may have seen coming or one that  takes us by surprise.  The curve turns us back around until we feel like we are starting over, though we never are because we are always moving forward.  Maybe you experience a curve on your path to a career or an educational goal and you find yourself pausing to have a family, to care for someone in need, to grieve a loss, to deal with an illness or a problem, or just to relax, rejuvenate and regroup.  Eventually, you will get around the curve and start in a straight line again, although the goal you are seeking may have changed during the pause.

Life is fits and starts and slow downs and forward races.  It is steady ahead and watch out around the curve.  It is this way, then that way and then back around again.  But, no matter what, life is always forward motion, even when it feels like its not.

Tonight, I noticed that I often appeared to be further from the center of the labyrinth when I was actually nearest and I sometimes was right by the center, just inches away, but I actually had a long way to go on the path until I would truly reach the center.  Life, too, can trick us with illusions.  Our goal may seem terribly far away when the distance to get there is really short or our goal may seem right there, just in front, inches from our noses when, in actuality, our journey has just begun.

This weekend, Mount Dora felt very far away.  I felt like I may never reach my goal of living there and, truthfully, I may not.  I have no idea where my feet are on that journey.  Maybe I am close or maybe not.  Maybe I will reach that goal of living in Mount Dora or maybe I will head around a curve, slow down and realize I was never actually headed there in the first place.  Maybe Mount Dora with be along my path, but I doubt if it will be the final destination of my path.  I will keep circling around, sometimes, moving slow, sometimes speeding up.  I will take the turns and the pauses and sometimes feel like forward motion has stopped.  Then, I will hit a long, straight stretch and the wind will blow through my hair as I race forward feeling triumphant in my progress.  But, no matter how or where I travel, whether the road is straight or curvy, whether my feet are plodding slowly, dancing lightly or racing with the wind at my back, I will make my journey, as you will also, one step at a time, just one step at a time.