Star Power

     My recently published book, "You Know Me and You Don't-Poems from a Random Life", leave both the author and the reader with an open-ended question: what's next?

     I thought, "another book".  I hope the reader thought. Period. Poetry allows latitude.  In a free verse format, the stanzas and verses flow.  It's a perfect venue for my word work. I flow, I vacillate through the moments of my life; thankful for unlimited rebirthing of my soul.

     Validation, through the printed page is the catalyst which allows for the continuous outpouring as I journey on this plane. That is about to change.

     Knowing oneself takes a lifetime.  I believe intuitive knowledge is the sixth sense which balances purpose with existence.  The five senses can be relied on for pleasure and protection of the physical being. I want more.

     Religion is control. Spirituality is a quest. Secularism is the path I choose. The universe cannot be defined on my terms. It is not finite and my journey is transient. Thankfully, I am open-minded living among those who are not which challenges me-constantly.

     Shamans and lightkeepers are my source to Truth.  I am grateful to my intuitive voice and the messages of clarity. I am at the threshold of the new. The old no longer serves me.

     I begin again.

Full, Again

Time does not encourage us to loosen our dependency on grief. The grieving process is unique to each person. Some cling to loss as validation of having mattered.  Some discard it altogether, believing that everything is impermanent.

I fall somewhere in the middle and mourn until the spirit releases me. I get the sense that something gloriously transformative has happened.  I get messages that encourage me to fill the void.  I dream of my life incomplete. Not liking the emptiness to take residence, I begin again.

When faced with the choice of less OR more and eliminating the less IS more theory, I choose to reduce my options into mathematical perspective and usually find the perfect answer ie: equal to or greater than. Sometimes it's a matter of quality other times it's pure quantity.  The equation is flexible in interpretation. (My own version of quantitative theory).

This morning is day three of my life with two rescued dogs.  That makes 5, in my house, which is my favorite prime number.  It's an "odd" number, asymmetrical and reflective of my basic life's philosophy.  Everything and every one is unique.  Life is better when nothing matches. The journey is far more rewarding if the path is not level and the incline leaves you breathless. When you get to the edge of the cliff-take flight.

I love that I know this.

My two newest family companions are confused and grateful. So am I.  They are trusting that their lives will complement mine.  So do I.  They accept and do not judge their circumstance.
So must I.

I will reflect on this perfect moment when the stars beckon my reverent gaze. I know the messenger well, she left me a few weeks ago.  She entrusts these dogs to my heart. The pain is exquisite and the give and take will never end.  I will always welcome gifts bestowed by the universe.  It is far wiser
and a much better judge of character.

As for now, it's time for lunch and then maybe a walk or perhaps a couple. Everyone needs a little one on one.

I am full, again.

Gray Area

I am undone. I knew it was coming, it was planned and predestined. My spirit guides have had enough and they let me have it-twice.

First time visiting a spiritualist enclave felt like an odd reunion. People smiled at me, I smiled back. I felt like there were flashing L.E.D. lightbulbs attached somewhere about my body, because there was
electricity in the air. I was not a stranger and it was unsettling.

I had two readings over two days.  Maybe I broke the cardinal rule, but the messages coming
through the mediums would redirect and clarify my path.  I have work to do and TRUST that the work I do is the reason I am here.

Forty eight hours later, I am on information overload. I have notes and now the task ahead is to arrange the messages into a cohesive system of healthy arterial flow and remove the clot that
defines me.

Having worked so diligently toward living either black or white, I NOW must resolve to
live in the gray area.  I must allow the universal wisdom to infuse and balance me. I feel uneasy
in the wetness of this churning stream. There are no banks to climb or debris to slow the raging
waters.

Temporary and impermanent visitor to the physical world, my journey is one of discovery.
I will carry the human imprint back to the cosmos. While I am here, I am teacher and peacekeeper. If I cross your path, I will be glad of it. There is much to tell you.

proportion

I am sharing my favorite recliner.  The decision was not mine. As if by an unknown divination,
my Dachshund altered my side of the chair to accommodate his length and breadth. Guess who
is happily squeezed into the narrower space?  This arrangement is sometimes punctuated with an additional Dachshund or cat.

My comfort is not a consideration. Neither is adjusting the reading lamp or lap quilt any indication
that I have ownership of this over sized, over stuffed really comfortable chair. As I survey the remaining furnishings in this space, I am hit with a cold hard fact.  My life is complete because
of them.  And the old one, not mentioned yet, sprawls on the carpet where she will gain
steady footing and balance before she traverses the linoleum or slate floors.

I perceive animal companions as complementary benefits of living selflessly in a world challenged by
the desire to stand out rather than to stand within. I am doing my part to understand my purpose as an integral piece of the living puzzle.

My memory perhaps exceeds my current life form and I know that companion animals have always
been with me.  Their experiences enhance mine.  Their knowledge complements mine and their love
is without end and is transparent and tangible.  I shudder to think of my journey without them. Thankfully, I have always been surrounded and sought out other like minded people.  I respect those of differing opinions, but I don't necessarily LIKE them.

Today, I received a message that my bff's dog, "W" is in the clear after emergency surgery last week.
Love by proxy is what I am feeling and I am grateful for his recovery and the opportunity to visit with him in a few days. When I am in his house, which he shares with his dog and people, their furniture is proportionately arranged to benefit all species.  No matter how often you plump the cushions, tell tale divots remain - signifying the people only spaces.  It's a home overflowing with love.  As is mine.

My legacy, which is already infused in the hearts of my children, will be to sew kindness into the fabric of their lives; to live disproportionately and unselfishly.  I can't think of a better example than sharing their homes with an animal...or two.

Intangible

I watched the smallest of my remaining three root through the fibers of a freshly vacuumed rug.
She was intense and hopeful. There are no visible remains on the one week anniversary of
her passing.

My fault and I feel it painfully and deeply in spaces without definition.  I am emptier.
Wearing the immense sadness like a familiar robe is little comfort; The imagined garment hangs
unwashed in the closet-waiting; I will wear it again and again.

I told the vet that I should invent an air freshener and call it "old dog".  I don't want a "new puppy"
aroma therapy. I want to inhale her-just as she was in my arms that final morning.

A companion animal's passing is prefaced by night terrors.  Those exhausting non sleep moments
that tune you into the possibility of silence and when peace does not come, the tears do. And the guilt.

When nothing replaces something, grief visits upon the heart and sometimes it stays.
The layers of sadness permeate the waking hours and lay me down in restless, weary darkness. I am comfortable here where the familiar agony keeps me company. I remember each one. It's like some
malignant reward for having loved them.

Cumulative damage will eventually weaken my intentions and I will die alone; and in that final moment-a memory for those I leave behind.

Unveiling

Fog, mist and haze obscure the starkness of life.  They color the foreground we must navigate when on the uncertain path and I am grateful.

The tenderness of a gentle approach appeals to me.  I don't like neon anything; I much prefer an unveiling; sometimes the allure of several layers gives me time to consider my approach. The artist in me, the painter and poet- in me - the do over in me is strong. Sometimes so overpowering, it is if
I am being redirected.

When time was a critical component in my daily life, the quickness of changing proverbial hats was
a survival tactic.  Role playing and fitting in was habit-a sacred ritual; all for the resolution of
not being alone. Looking back over the last 60 years, I find I was in denial, for a solitary existence
would have empowered me.  I am now empowered and I am not alone, I choose the path of resistance because I am no longer afraid-afraid of being different.  I am not who you think I am. I am not who I think I am. It has been my truth from the beginning of my evolution.

Here I am, the latest version of myself.  The journey is never ending  The hamster wheel is on automatic. The energy which sustains me does not falter.  I am ready.

Choices are paramount only when considering my physical demise.  My journey has been determined. My mind is de cluttered, as much as is voluntarily possible. Universal voices are echoing around and through me. I just need to pause and listen.

As the path is a continuum, any hesitancy is wasted effort. Low visibility is balanced by perseverance. Perseverance is tethered to trust. Trust is its own reward.

Insight and intuition are useful tools when the horizon is vague. Enlightenment will come.
I've made it this far.

Blocked

THE connection I have been waiting upon has not occurred.  I don't know where the short is, but I suspect it is on my end.  I have never been proficient with which end the energy source originates.  I just don't care how things work.

Months of anticipation and travel arrangements, confirmations and emails resulted in NOTHING.
Weather settled over the desert and the astronomer canceled. "Unusual clouds and moderate winds
crept into my scheduled visit.  BLOCKED!

So I decided to leave the area in favor of higher altitudes; drove two hours back over switchbacks and 2,000 feet elevation. Booked a bed and breakfast and crossed my fingers.  I kept the curtains open and gazed every fifteen minutes until half-past hoot owl and NOTHING.

I am resolved to continue connecting with the stars.  In my mind, the journey will begin with a little education.  Astronomy piques my attention.  No dissection or botanical/ animal collection necessary.
A telescope would be helpful.  An astronomer would be more helpful.

In the meantime...

Cosmos fill my unlearned mind.  Planets, moons, and stars; it's not the universe of my childhood.
Discoveries can hardly be cataloged due to the sheer quantity, the learning is at warp speed and the smartest man in the world just died.  I know this and I don't understand physics.

I am reading, at a leisurely pace, articles that address the possibility of extra terrestrial life. My interest is specific to star seeds, Indigos, Nordics and the multiverse which yields them.  It's a truth-a comfortable fit and the proverbial final piece of the puzzle. Digesting this truth creates conflict. Conflict fuels loyalty and I am walking the fine line. How does destiny confirm existence?

Maybe the blockage is simply a screen that requires repositioning.  Maybe it's a veil and I will peek though it and gaze at the reason I am here.

I simply have to open myself to possibilities and cross my fingers that clear skies will prevail.