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  • Life Oh Life; There you Are

    2010 - 03.27

    I am back again. Did you miss me? My husband flew into Albuquerque and I picked him up. After not seeing him for 7 weeks; “oooo, what a lucky man he was”! (Emerson, Lake and Palmer)

    We drove back to Washington and I just got back from being on the road for a couple of weeks traveling, performing and speaking. I had terrific audiences, beautiful weather, and smooches from my husband, animals and grand babies. It was a whirlwind tour of fun, tenderness and income taxes! But here I am again, sitting on the top of a red rock mountain in the high desert, still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

    I smash-O-lalad my thumb in the truck door today. I have to admit that I made a lot of noise. My whole hand was throbalating bright red, and my thumb turned purple black, (don’t try to look these words up… a new language…beverleese) like in a cartoon. Boo hoo! It is amazing that one small digit can cause so much discombobulation! The post mistress told me to take a needle and puncture the nail… I heated the needle, stuck it on my nail, and then put the needle back in the drawer. I wasn’t that brave.

    The first few days I was back it was 70 degrees and my back burned because I gardened without my shirt. But today it was 30 degrees; it snowed horizontally, and iced, and the wind blew about 70 miles an hour. When I took Jack out for his walk around the mountain his weight was the only thing that kept me anchored. There was a raven flying in the wind and it was literally standing still with wings spread, in the sky. Snow was whipping past us but not landing because it was snowing sideways. And then, someone turned the switch off and the snow stopped, the sky cleared and the sun made steam rise from the red soil.

    Sky, my oldest daughter, is here with me for a few weeks, with her dog, Buster. Buster is a great guest… and Sky is plotting her escape back to some kind of civilization but alas, she is my prisoner! Ok… She only feels like a prisoner. So I guess one person’s prison, is another person’s Shangri-La.

    Living in New Mexico is a bit like being in a foreign country in the middle of America.

    I have sensed that there is a language that flows underneath the conversations that sometimes requires a special interpretation. It is not a language of words. One must listen very carefully with more than the ears. I think this is how we should all, always, listen. I wonder why we are not taught this. We are taught to speak clearly, but not to listen with intent. Perhaps if we could develop proficiency at this, behaviors around self righteousness and power would be avoided or even eliminated. If we could really listen we could hear what lies behind the arrogance, hurt, anger, or bully behaviors. What if we, simply by listening, could heal anothers pain, change the misunderstandings, impart compassion and forgiveness, and end the violence, brutality, and war? What if we all opened to the ability to honor others opinions without needing to change them? It is the listener that has the power; the power to heal, the power to impart grace, and the power to choose to view without attachment, words that are delivered with emotion. I know that this might not be an easy assignment, but what if the ability to listen acutely was something we were taught from the get-go?  How would this alter our conversations?

    The fierce conversations needed to address issues of leadership, social justice, spiritual awakening, and artistic and environmental preservation are still in their infancy. The work of fundamental societal transformation and education will require a dramatic change of heart and mind in this country. This is big work. It is a change from the “I” to the “we”. It begins here, with us. No matter if we are a local volunteer in a hospice, a budding artist, or an international Nobel Peace Prize winner. We are all connected to each other and to the intricate and delicate eco system of this planet. We choose separation for protection, but truly there is more safety in numbers, and in joining hands as we cross the busy road of life together.

    This type of healing will require us to reach beyond our present paradigms, raise, with intent, our vibrations, and break our hearts…wide open…So the love will come tumbling out and the light will come shining in…

    Pollyanna writes again! Titi rump titi rump titi rump rump rump!

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