Being Grateful
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Being Grateful

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Being Grateful.

I spend a lot of my time alone at a desk. When I am not writing, I’m shlepping my little one. Walking the dogs, shopping for dinner, folding the laundry, breathing through a sweaty yoga class. That’s my daily life–and I’m so grateful for all of those activities.

Then today I had a break in my routine. My lovely friend Lori was visiting from out of town. We went out for a vegan lunch and then wandered in the park. It was a beautiful warm day for wandering and talking. You know those times when you just talk and talk and talk with a friend, someone you really like and enjoy? And sometimes you start laughing together until you both cross your knees to keep from peeing, and all the hilarity of life washes up and out like sunlight? It was one of those times. A treat.

Lori has a splendor to her soul that is a joy to behold. She’s wise and insightful and unbelievably well read. I can talk with her about anything, literally, anything, because she’s been through so much in her life. I enjoy her perspective and I learn a lot, just from hearing her think aloud. I’m so thankful she’s in my life.

Then I came home and my husband was in a sweet and protective mood. There’s a sick stalker in his life, someone persisting in trying to make contact with him even though he’s filed a police report. He was really appalled at the latest sick stalker shenanigans. He was cuddly protective of me, and thoughtful and concerned. He was grateful for me. Sometimes he is very sweet, and I am grateful for that, too.

 

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Shifts

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I have been reading my friend Lori’s blog, which always opens my heart. She has a way of writing that is heart-felt and true, revelatory, and experiential. I admire her for it.

Today I am thinking about shifts. One friend of mine is hinting at things that he should not. I will have to address it, and shift it. I will have to address it tenderly, because he’s a friend. But it feels like a burden I’d rather not carry.

And not so long ago, I extended an invitation, which perhaps was ill-advised. I was following the energy in the situation, but I seem to have left discomfort in my wake. That was not my intent.

In the meantime, I am here, thinking about necessary shifts, and unnecessary burdens.

24 I am’s, with a tip of the hat to Lori
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24 I am’s, with a tip of the hat to Lori

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My friend Lori, who is gorgeous and brilliant and inspiring and open-hearted in a way that glows and draws people to her rather inescapably, keeps a heart-felt blog. I love her writing because it’s poignant and soulful and expressive. It flows through the reader. It moves the reader to openness.

I adore Lori because she is wonderful and she is special and she is herself, and because she knows about suffering. It’s something she and I share: rotten childhoods. Other on-going and wrenching difficulties. A sense of the bigness that deep ache can bring to your spirit, if you refuse to allow loss to sour you. An ability to have fun and to laugh from the belly, because there is so much sorrow in life that you must play and giggle and sing and dance every chance you get.
Oh, and she’s part Comanche, so the Cherokee in me feels comfortable around her.
Lori’s blog features an enchanting “about me” page that includes “24 I am’s, in no particular order.” I was perusing her blog this evening, and I wondered, Can I do this?
So here is my list, 24 I am’s, in no particular order:
1. I am a 50 year old mother, wife, friend, and author. Yes, I’ve reached my half-century mark. It’s like falling off a cliff, upward.
2. I am a dedicated practitioner of yoga.
3. I am happy wearing yoga clothes, even when they’re stinky. Lululemon: you rock! Don’t their yoga pants make everyone’s ass look good?
4. I am just as happy wearing a great dress, especially when I feel like I’m pulling it off.
5. I am possessed of creativity, ferocity of spirit, and great friskiness.
6. I am the color turquoise, because it has playfulness and substance, and some deep connection with the heart. Sometimes I am lavender or yellow, or all three at once.
7. I am a novelist. I am always writing a novel. I am a poet, too. I am in my soul essence when I am writing.
8. I am a person who knows about suffering and loss.
9. I am in love with dark chocolate.
10. I am from a background filled with fear, shame, rage, lack, deprivation, violence, and other destructive elements: a background that tried hard to extinguish my light. It failed. My light does take regular maintenance, to be sure, to keep it bright. But I’m still shining.
11. I am an enthusiastic traveller. I carry my passport in my purse in the hopes that TODAY I will get to fly somewhere. I would rather travel than eat, though the two go awfully well together. I have been to England, France, Italy, Germany, Austria, Holland, Spain, Switzerland, Sweden, Denmark, Malaysia, India, Thailand, Bali, Mexico, Canada, Hong Kong, and the Caribbean.
12. I am an inveterate ravisher of books. I consume books. When I finish reading a book, I have marked it up, squished down corners, stuck in sticky notes, licked my finger to flip the edges of pages, and invaded it entirely. It wants to take a shower and a nap.
13. I am secretly planning a second career as an art thief. Think about it: art thieves get to wear slinky black cat suits, they get to use the newest, coolest, high-tech gadgets, they get to go into museums when no one else is there, and they get to go home with a painting. How awesome is that?
14. I am a card player.
15. I am grateful. I find time every day to give thanks for the good things and the great people in my life.
16. I am one-third extraterrestrial.
17. I am already planning my next life time. Hello, reincarnation.
18. I am learning. I like challenges, so I always find something to learn.
19. I am questionative. For this word, I must give credit to my gloriously curious little daughter, who invented it to describe herself. And she came by the trait honestly.
20. I am here, committing.
21. I am a dog lover. There are two labs in my life right now who cuddle most deliciously. Each one is 55 pounds of lap puppy.
22. I am convinced that being underestimated is a position of strength.
23. I am willing to laugh with you and I love to do so.
24. I am a person who is generous, who is kind but sometimes not nice, who is playful while being solemn, and who is often misunderstood. Hello, complexity.
Happy Graduation
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Happy Graduation

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Happy Graduation

Happy Graduation
My brilliant and beautiful step-daughter graduated from Johns Hopkins University last week. She’s continuing on to the molecular biology and immunology program at the Bloomberg School, and from there to medical school. We’re very proud of her.
But even the joy of her accomplishments is eclipsed by something: her loveliness of spirit. Julia has worked with diligence and commitment to achieve her rite of passage. She’s shown a gift for deferred gratification, long-term goal-making, and personal sacrifice. More than that, she’s kind-hearted and grateful, loving and sweet-natured. It was exquisite happiness to share her moment with her.
Fun with my friends
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Fun with my friends

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My friend Michelle Czernin makes great parties. She made one in New York City for a splendid young man, Europe’s hottest rising opera star, Daniel Serafin. I invited another friend, Debra Jaliman, author of the wildly popular SKIN RULES. Here we are….

photo credit: MC O’Conner/Savvy Shooter Media

With respect for Budd Hopkins, June 15, 1931 – August 21, 2011
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With respect for Budd Hopkins, June 15, 1931 – August 21, 2011

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Missing Time

I met Budd Hopkins only a handful of times. We had a mutual friend who knew of my interest in UFOlogy and who grudgingly–and with noted mockery of me–made the introduction. My friend quoted a line he’d heard at a dinner party where Budd had spoken about UFO’s, and one of the other guests had rolled his eyes. “I’ll believe when I can kick a tire.”
Budd was a brilliant man. He was unfailingly polite and soft-spoken, with the current of intelligence and thought bubbling through his conversation. He was both passionate and restrained about his work in the UFO field. I have a personal interest in UFO’s and am somewhat private about the origins of this interest, despite my outspoken support for reincarnation, energy healing, and the paranormal in general. I didn’t quite work up the nerve to ask Budd some of the real questions I wanted to ask. But I could have.
Budd showed my husband Sabin and me around his house in Cape Cod, where he had a studio. Budd was very much working with sacred geometry. I liked his current work though his earlier abstract expressionism didn’t do much for me. That’s a matter of taste. Regardless, Budd was a talented artist with a fabulous eye for line and color. A world-class artist, in fact.
His UFO work was seminal. It inspired some of the greatest researchers into the field, including Dr. John Mack, the Harvard professor who worked with UFO abductees and who came to believe that something real was happening. Something that must be studied because so many people were affected. “An extraordinary phenomenon demands an extraordinary investigation,” Budd proclaimed. Rightly so.
I know that UFOs are real. I am here to witness: They are here. By UFOs I mean non-terrestrial biological entities. I do not know if they are real in the physical sense or if they are confined to the bandwidth of the astral planes. This question I did pose to Budd, who told me flatly, “They’re real in the physical.”
For sure they are present in the astral planes. The thing is, the astral planes are real. They are, in fact, as real as the physical planes. They’re just different bandwidths.
Budd once mentioned to me the phenomenon of invisible beings. The moment he brought that up, I could feel, tangibly and powerfully, the being standing near Budd. Ten feet away, as present and watchful as if a stalker were standing there.
The universe is bigger than many people like to acknowledge. This, I think, is about safety. Many people (especially educated folks) feel safer clinging to the Newtonian box, the grand machine, which is predictable. To hell with quantum physics, that spooky action at a distance that made Einstein shudder. To hell with infinite dimensions in the multiverse, which the many worlds theory espouses. These people have blinders on which only allow them to see a tire which they can kick.
Fortunately great souls like Budd Hopkins aren’t wearing blinders. To Budd: it was great to meet you, and I wish you peace and joy in your journey.