International Peace Day

I love how the world is so very, very big

or small, depending on your lens.

Your life is an album and each moment is a photo.

Are you enjoying the development?

When Rainbows Come

It's been an eventful summer.
For all of us.
You, and I.
You've seen my photo posts;
words are elusive of late.

I've learned a few things
as I reflect
in the heart of the canyons here...

One,
that I have missed you.
I've visited your blogs and
tasted cups of love
and the touch of your hearts.
I'm glad to walk with you
as we travel together. 

Two,
that with the many storms facing us,
we are none of us alone. 

Third,
that sometimes
after a storm
comes the most beautiful rainbow.

Sometimes
even more than one.

There may or may not be pots of gold,
but the rainbows are gratifying enough.
And riding those rainbows
have brought incredible wild joy
and....

We're All in This Together Folks

This is pretty much in my book what religion is supposed to be about. Bringing everyone together. Not dividing us into 'us' vs. 'them'. We are all a family, traveling together. Hugs break through the limitations of mind; they are the uniting of what's inside of all of us. The commonality of love.

Italy. China. Cleveland. Brazil. Samoa. Kenya. Iceland. Croatia...wherever we are, here's to universal peace. HUGS!

Give Yourself That Much

While sipping my morning 'joe' of kale/mango/banana/coconut/lucama (wtf?) green smoothie, my heart is leaping and soaring all at once. Nearing the end of Geneen Roth's newest book (the first of which I've read even though I've devoured her column in Good Housekeeping which my mailman drops by, faithfully), is filling a part of me I haven't touched in a long, long while and it's dangerously close to overflowing.

Now one of my all-time favorite books related to understanding and overcoming food issues, Women, Food, and God by Geneen holds its place beside Martha Beck's The Four Day Win. Both are down-to-earth mind-blowing and both touch the deepest parts of ourselves.

Both explain how the mind works, the power it wields, and since we can't live without it, how to get along with it. Not only does this inspire a heart-thumping sense of loving kindness, it also brings its own measure of  peace. So much of it brings me to that place inside I've touched briefly once during a Byron Katie retreat. A place so spacious, so loving, so everything...I've never gotten over it. And makes me want to leap and soar, again, only this time perhaps, with you. Bon Apetit.

Ask yourself what you love. Without fear of consequences, without force of shame or guilt. What motivates you to be kind, to take care of your body, your spirit, others, the earth? Trust the longing, trust the love that can be translated into action without the threat of punishment. Trust that you will not destroy what matters most. Give yourself that much. ~ Geneen Roth

Love and Creativity

For me, nothing opens the heart more than a baby, the creative seed of life and innocence. Blessed are those caregivers who get to be with them, struggle with them, love them, and let them go if life demands it. This video is a heartwarming and life-affirming example of one family's experience. This couple wrote letters to their son Eliot, even before his birth. These letters helped them heal through his illness. Their story has the power to help us heal as well, from the complexities of life.

Writing truly brings many gifts. Julia Cameron gave us the Artist's Way, and I'm of a mind that all creative acts--writing, drawing, birthing, gardening etc.--expand the soul. My flowering of creativity blossomed like an Outback Steakhouse fried onion while raising my babies. I wrote extensively, planted a rose garden with blooms the size of an outstretched hand out of Arizona caliche; learned jazz dance, baked and cooked from scratch (a rarity these days), sewed intricate costumes and holiday-wear for the kids, decorated our home which involved, among other things, painting the walls and banisters (not recommended, the banisters anyway), sewing curtains, cross-stitching, and making 'baby books' for the kids which involved stories and photos and memorabilia.

Obstacles I overcame to satisfy the creative muse included having an early miscarriage, a baby who refused to nurse, hacking through caliche to dig holes for the rose bushes that averaged three hours per bush (so that's where the carpal tunnel came from!), teaching myself to cross-stitch and paint via trial by error; to staying up far too late into the night to write while the family slept, and eventually from all that handiwork, carpal tunnel surgery. But I am grateful for each obstacle because each process taught me something.

In expanding our hearts and souls, I hope we are fortunate enough to find what sets us on fire and what heals us, and then share it with the world.

It could use us.

The Wide Open Heart

A little over one year ago, I witnessed the birth (as best as you can outside a hospital delivery room door) of my first grandchild. Samuel James was brought into this world only to leave too soon with his adoptive parents. His birth parents, two good-hearted teens dealing with the tumult life sometimes brings, chose to place their little boy with an equally good-hearted couple who had been yearning to adopt for some time.

The day Sammy came was one of the giddiest highlights of my midlife, my heart so open it felt close to bursting. The day after, or rather, the evening of the day before Placement Day, was the hardest thing I'd ever experienced. Not the death of a marriage, not raising kids as a single mom, not an early miscarriage between my first two children, not kidney stones, not job loss; but the giving up of a child--my birth grandchild. On that day I learned that a heart could keep beating after shattering to bits.

You fall in love on day one and still in love, must say goodbye. So far the sadness has been staunched because his new parents, embracing an open adoption, have kept up a blog with photos and an occasional get together (I've seen and held Sammy twice since he was born; Christmas and his blessing day).

It is one of the sweetest experiences, and still, there is a sadness that lingers in a corner of my heart. Do I wish things were different? Daily. Would I try to change it if I could? No; the bond between Sammy and his new parents is set.

I've come to a place of gratitude for the sacrifices made. The birth mother, and my son, who gave up someone they loved. The adoptive parents, who gave up their privacy to allow our family into their lives. Sammy's birth relatives, especially his birth father's siblings, who want to so much to keep in touch with their nephew.

What touches me most about that day when Sammy was born, was watching his 16-year old father protectively follow him and his nurse down to the neonatal observation room (that's what I call it; don't know what it really is) and for the next hour and a half, keep his hand on his naked son as he lay in the bassinet being observed for vitals. The tears that trickled down his face, the exhaustion from the long birth night and the emotions of the weeks and months before. The way his large hand cupped around his son, the love he was giving him while he could. I'd never witnessed this side of my boy, and it moved me beyond tears.

On Placement Day I was driving with my youngest daughter, tears streaming down my face, and she said something to me I will never forget; with wisdom beyond her years, "Mom, just remember, this may be the worst day you've ever had, but it's also the happiest day Emma and James have ever had." Just that unexpected turn of phrase, the circumstances seen in that light, opened up a crack in the clouds and let some rays shine through. It lightened my grieving heart with the possibility that this family would love this baby boy with all their heart.

And so it seems to have become. The times I've seen Sammy with them, he's happy and devoted and completely trusting. And so are they. It's remarkable really, the love an infant brings into this world. The power to open hearts. And that's what this experience has left me with. The desire to keep my heart open no matter what shows up to break it. Because despite the pain and sadness I would not trade this experience for the world. It has been worth every moment, just to get to know Sammy, his birth mother, my son in unexpected ways, and Sammy's new family.

So thank you God, for bringing Sammy into this world to share with so many. Thank you Sammy, for being your amazing self, thank you Jaycee and Jason for loving this baby more than yourselves, and thank you Emma and James for your love and generosity.



Names have been changed for privacy reasons.
Credit: Photo courtesy of emmasheart.com/shop/images/footprint.png

Making The World A Better Place

"I always liked Michael Jackson, I think he was a great parent. He was misunderstood in life. I think he was a very deep person with lots of love. I think he will live on forever."

My sister wrote this recently, and it echos my feelings exactly about this truly remarkable man.

Growing up with Michael like so many around the world, having loved his music and his art, I will forever remember his smile. His innocence, his pure heart, his dedication, his love--for people, animals and the planet. His laugh, his way of holding light for all of us, for tirelessly sharing his gifts with the world.

And so much of the world loved him back. Not everyone, but the numbers, if they could be counted, would be staggering.

What is remarkable to me is how he gave himself so completely. When he performed he opened his arms wide, bared his heart and just let us in, open and unguarded, for us to take or leave. He bared his soul for us to feel.

I do not believe the accusations made against him about his personal life, though there was a time when I wondered. But I have come to realize that he was a person of such pure heart that some folks couldn't grasp the possibility that he was for real. I do believe he was for real. I love that he could still be childlike in an often jaded world--though it cost him dearly.

His work--both artistic and humanitarian--and his genuine love for people and the world leave me wondering what I will do to make the world a better place. That's what MJ leaves with me. His love, his smile, and his message of reaching out to everyone.

Michael once told a fan in a radio interview to always believe in yourself. As part of what he left for us to continue, I hope we too will believe in ourselves and open our hearts as wide as he did.

"Michael Jackson was a supernova. Just like a supernova, a collection of energy so bright that it cannot sustain and quickly flames out, so was the King of Pop. Michael Jackson sacrificed his childhood to bring us the music that would be the soundtrack to ours. " Kisha Green, posting her comment on The Huffington Post.

MJ, may you finally rest in

"And when the groove is dead and gone
You know that love survives
So we can rock forever, on"

Credit: Photo courtesy of Time magazine.

Happy Mother's Day

As I've mentioned in a previous post, mothers come in various forms. So even if I never gave birth to four children, I would feel the nurturing connection of mothering. We nurture in so many ways! Not to mention we have all had mothers of our own.

We nurture the planet every time we pick up a piece of trash, we nurture each other every time we hold a door open for a stranger, every time we listen with compassion, every time we give or take counsel, every time we hug someone. Whether we cry, laugh, or correct someone, we mother.

And I'm not just speaking of the lovely parts of mothering, but the not-so-lovely parts as well. Being firm, standing for discipline when needed, wiping noses and staying up late waiting for growing adolescents to come home. It's all part and parcel.

So here's to motherhood and mothering and being there for one another. And to my own mother, who has always, always been there for me.


Credit: photo courtesy of Aviarios Sloth Sanctuary

Life Blessings

This weekend my grandson is receiving his baby blessing with his adoptive family. Our household is brimming with barely contained excitement.

The event is divided into two days of celebration; a luncheon on Saturday where we party with everyone, and the ceremony on Sunday. Now, normally I am not into rituals and such, but this generates excitement because we get to see him. Which is a rare gift for me, one of his birth family's grandmothers.

It's all so surreal in a way, as I don't know how to "be" in this situation, i.e. what feelings to have. Joy for his sweet parents? Joy for the bundled of energy that he is? Joy for his dear birth parents? I mean, it is bittersweet for me, but there is so much room for gratitude here. I'm awed by the whole experience. It's so tempting to drop the 'bitter' and just revel in the sweet.

I'm happy he gets to experience life on this amazing planet. I'm happy his adoptive parents get to experience him, and I'm happy his birth parents get to experience what they have created together. I'm happy we get to experience all this in whatever way we can. It's quite beautiful when I focus on that. When I drop my concept of what grand-parenting 'should' look like, it doesn't hurt. And that alone is worth the experience.

All I know is there is a lot of love in this world, and this is just another way to feel it.

Feeling very blessed in this moment.