Spirit Speak

Sometimes I look out the living room window and hear the theme to “The Good, Bad, and the Ugly” in my head…Doodle lu dle lu, la, la la….…

When I first started this blog it was to help myself muddle through what being inside a human body means for me…a chance to see on paper some of the things that come out of my mouth…At first I did not allow comments to my mental meanderings because a comment could pass judgment and I wanted the words simply to float on into the ether without being judged for them, or by them…After much deliberation with my posse, you know, the ones that live inside my head, I have decided to risk judgment, or ignore it, on the hopes that what anyone shares will too, float into the ether and help us collectively muddle through our own humanity. Be kind, be thought filled, stand inside your truth…That is my constant mantra…I don’t always get it right. When I don’t there is always a lesson; sometimes a bright light lesson, sometimes a “dark night of the soul” lesson.  There is always a lesson. And on either side of the lesson there is always some type of movement.  Sometimes it is like stepping out into the abyss, but sometimes it is like stepping into a warm and loving  embrace.

As Alex sings in the movie in Madagascar…“We’ve got to move it…We’ve got to move it, move it…” If we are not in motion, if our neurons aren’t firing, if our molecules aren’t spinning, we have stepped out of our own building.

Even inside our stillness, the place where we hear God Speak, there is movement that reminds us to breathe and to open; to feel joy and be grateful. Life renews and resurrects, and is constantly forgiving. We are forever spirits…We are forever love…

It was a beautiful day in our neighborhood…of one house.

The sun rose over the Pedernal at 6-ish and Yoda and Jack began barking at prairie dogs, wild cats, and hoo-doo’s, so there was no more sleep for me!

We ran out of water yesterday. The Reverse Osmosis system stopped working and so, we stink…Well Sky stinks… And if she wasn’t unhappy about being here before, she sure is now. Sky is a good sport, however, and even though I exasperate her, she thinks I am cute… Being 4’11” is at times, useful…

We worked in the garden today…OK… the red dirt, tumbleweeds, and sand…and we hiked into the big rocks. I fell twice and embedded rock into the palm of my hand and it had to be dug out with a needle. It hasn’t been a stellar week for me, what with smasholing my finger in the car door, falling down a cliff side, and running out of water, but the four-men rocks that my husband, Ken, told me would be impossible to move without a tractor, did roll after rocking them over and over and Sky and I moved most of them and created a Zen garden of rocks and red sand… Life is good! And then we die!!! I do not know what that is like, but I  am always up for checking into a new assignment!

Here is the thing about falling down a mountain…you can either cry because you are hurt, or laugh because you are hurt. I choose laughter… and dancing… if you are able to stand.

I love my husband Ken, almost insanely. Yep, that is the way he makes me feel sometimes…insane. Sometimes I dip my head and cock it just a little, with my brows furrowed, as I wonder if we even speak the same language, live on the same planet, are a similar species…OK, I know if your read my last blog you are saying “but she says we are all connected” “she says we are one with the universe”! Well that might be what I say…but what I feeeeel (four syllables) is that men…and women…are……..completely combatable, I mean compatible, and I LOVE MY HUSBAND…even if he talks and thinks and does things soooo…muuuch…sloooower…and so much more perfect than me and he drives me to distraction.

Mostly people say to me, “Ken is soooo wonderful, you are soooo lucky”. Does anyone ever say that about me to him? I… think…not… Well, Ken is wonderful, I am lucky, but…..whoops, I think I drifted off for a second. And I think the rice is burning.

That is the other thing. I eat really simply. Some organic brown rice, organic non fat plain Greek yogurt, an organic tomato, organic broccoli, and organic parmesan cheese, (yes there is an organic theme here), and I am good. Oh and a glass of organic, no added sulfite wine, Frey Vineyards, yum, yum…and I am really good! But Sky eats meat and stuff…Sugar and stuff…Stuff and stuff…Heavy sigh…

So, usually I have some kind of moral to the story, words of wisdomy kind of thing going on, but…today… I can only say that God has a sense of humor and that we are all a part of the cosmic hilarity…and that laughter cures almost every ailment…except for maybe the hiccoughs. It makes them worse!

The water tank will fill up again, I will be able to rinse the soap lather from my body…flush the toilet, drink water, (not from the toilet) and the sun will come out tomorrow, around 6ish, over the Pedernal…Jack and Yoda will bark at imagined screetures, and I will get up after only four hours sleep! Life is good!!! I’ll end it there!

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!

The air is so clean and clear here you can feel it nourishing you as you breathe. I may become a breathairian… Sometime when I am walking it is so silent I wonder if I have stopped hearing, and then my stomach gurgles, or I hear myself swallow.

Jack, Yoda and I go for two walks a day and spend about three hours roaming and exploring the countryside. Well, Jack and I walk. Yoda rides in a sling on my chest.

When I first arrived here, in Youngsville, New Mexico,  I only had hats made out of fabric and felt; you know hats that made me look good, not hats that were designed for warmth. I called my Mom and asked her to make me some hats out of polar fleece. My Mom can make anything. So a few days later I received a package that had two Heidi Hats complete with braids, a cap, and two ear bands; all made out of warm fleece. My ears are toasty and I no longer lose my body heat from the top of my head.

Today while we were walking we saw a neighbor about 1/8 of a mile away from us walking with her dog. Jack immediately snapped to attention and started to haul me towards the dog and the woman. She saw us and I waved. She didn’t wave back and she started walking away from us instead of towards us to. “Hmmm”, I thought…I must look a little stranger than I believed myself to look; in my bright yellow, knee high, Earth Boots, thermal Fleece Heidi hat, thermal fleece gloves, Bomber Jacket, Black thermal cashmere tights and stylish Sun glasses. Could be she thought I was from another planet. Or maybe, what I think of as “Jack’s regal stance” might be considered frightening to someone who has never seen a wooly bear, masquerading as a dog. Jack was disappointed and we had a small battle of wills as he tried to haul me in one direction towards them and I tried to haul him in another, away from them. I had to explain to him about stalking. We had a New Mexican standoff.

Jack is very patient. He can out wait just about anything and anyone. His attention span is remarkable and he never, ever forgets, so we often have these tug of war moments until I march up to him, grab his halter and yank. And then he smiles with crazy eyes and says “oh, you want to go that way? Why didn’t you say so!” Jack is very congenial. It is good to be congenial when you are ginormous. Yoda on the other hand is 3 1/2 lbs of doggy attitude and fury. When other dogs come our way she starts screaming at them, “we are going to kick your asses!” and then she looks at Jack and says “Right?”… Jack is a lover not a fighter, unless he feels that I am threatened and then I think he would take on a Mountain Lion. I am not planning on putting that to the test though, so we make sure we are inside the house by the time total darkness falls. Yesterday I saw two sets of Mountain Lion tracks walking side by side; paw prints larger than Jacks…

There are thousands and thousands of acres of national forest lands that butt up against hundreds and hundreds of other acres. You can wander for days and never come across a paved road. I follow my feet because that is where the rocks are. I know I cannot bring them all into the house, but some just call to me! I also trust that Jack knows where he is going or at least where he has been. Yet, sometimes I look up and have that thrill of not knowing where I am. However, you know that I must find my way home because I am writing this.

I have been finding a lot of spiders in the house, under things, hanging from things, scurrying across the floor. I don’t mind that they are sharing my space as long as they are not spiders with an attitude. I usually capture them and put them outdoors, but sometimes I just let them stay where they are. If I feel one is questionable I ask them if they are, you know, deadly, but they always assure me that they are amiable and non-threatening.

This is the land of enchantment… if you don’t pay attention to the old cars and trailers heaped up outside other trailers. Also, recycling is a tad bit behind the times and litter is thrown out car windows so prisoners have something to pick up…

No… I am not being politically incorrect!  Read one of my earlier blogs. You will see that I was born politically correct. This stuff just is; the litter, the New Mexican road art, the non-recycling plan… but the beauty of the land and sky is so amazing that the other stuff fades into the background. I have been painting, writing new music, planting a garden, writing grants, and listening to the silence. Being here is like taking a step into a different dimension; I can still see reality, but whose reality is it?

And this is what I know… as I walk into “some-other-ness”, I must be cautious of not being arrogant, knowing-it-all, sure of the outcomes and being judgmental. I must honor what is, before I try to change it. I must breathe in this air; cleaner than anything I have ever breathed before, and let my body adjust to the strength of it. I must not see the spiders as enemies and I must pay attention to the messages of my strange dreams. I must only pick up the rocks that sing to me, otherwise I won’t be able to vacuum, and above all else I must do no harm to this fragile eco-system of plants, and rock, animals, and people. I must listen with my heart, and feel with my intuition. Maybe I should have been doing this all along? Since the first breath I ever took? I am glad I realized it before the last breath! Breathe in…Breathe out…Know that you are worthy. Know that you are love!