Autumn Dusk

It's a restless time of year. Twilit, chilly breeze rattles the blinds while I wander from room to room wondering what to do next. I painted today - did a lot actually, but my spirit never really settled to any task, and when it did, there was a feeling of loss.

No plans, no idea to settle my fingers or entertain my eyes. I don't want to read or watch TV, I don't want to play my guitar or even turn on the lights. I don't want to sleep or eat or talk. Restless...

Maybe when the light is gone I will be calm; silent as the moon.

In My Opinion...

This morning during my meditation I became aware of all my (endless) opinions and how they slow me down and try to blind me. I tend to make hasty opinions that are almost always changed over the course of time. If I could keep them to myself it would be a vast improvement.

This is a favorite defense mechanism that happens when I feel threatened or unsafe - or am taking a risk of some kind. It's just as frequent and stupid on the 'plus' side of it; either way it's a judgement call based on snap-opinion. My ego plays me for a fool with my emotions and it wreaks havoc with self-trust (which does not mean stubbornly insisting I'm right... jeez).

It's one of those things that seems like an impossible, frustrating puzzle whose final piece is always missing. I get very '3' about it (as in years old!). Seriously though, OPINIONS... It's a patience issue; and it's a faith issue. My habit is to think there's something wrong when I'm experiencing circumstances I find not to my liking. There's nothing wrong. This is life! I'm 43, almost 44 and still coming to terms with this.

Recently I was expressing my opinion about some 'injustice' and stopped short, wondering WHY? I have no idea what this other person is going through - but I fear for myself, so I spew about it. For what? Support? Sympathy? I realize each person's journey is just as precious as mine is to me... just as complex, as worthy of care and honor and room to grow as anyone's. So I have to ask myself - 'is my LOVE bigger than my opinion - my likes, dislikes and preferences?' And just asking that question breaks the ice around my heart. With that question, love pours out like molten light and my opinions are suddenly tiny dust motes illuminated by a brilliant sun. Once again the soft, cool breeze cups my face and clears my eyes so I can feel with clarity and remember compassion.

The Incorruptable Path

I've spent the last few weeks clutching blankets of fear and grief to my heart as though they could somehow protect me from having to feel what I've fled. Only to learn once again, there is no escape.

I started painting after months of nothing, knowing, 'if not now, when?'. No inspiration or direction, just action. And I took it despite the deafening cacophony of cautions beating down my battlements.

I forgot that art is the open door, where "I" disappears and the truly magical mysteries express with pure, untainted voices.

In my mind were misty visions of beauty... at least it got me moving. I broke through the precious stage yesterday; where it's pretty, but has no defining feature, no voice, no feeling, but I don't want to 'mess it up or do it wrong'. I decided to just trust where it was going and attempted to add the next piece. My son came home from school and said, "MOM, how did you get your HAND on there?? Is that a DEAD person? It's creeping me out!" and I laughed, knowing I was now free to experiment; to open the door wide, throw caution to the wind - or maybe just gently let it go.

Today came with the realization I don't have to please anybody with this or any painting; that I am graced to know there is a path to and from my heart that is essentially incorruptable when I pick up a brush - or for that matter, write without attachment to outcome. That despite the visions my mind provides to move me along, when I let go of caution, my heart (and all the mysteries of the universe) express - no matter what I may wish was appearing. Other than my child, it is the greatest gift I've been given. My gratitude overwhelms me.

Every time I come home again, my thoughts turn to everyone - all of us.... and I wonder how we all keep finding our own lighted path to trust and share.

Some Days...

sitting waiting here we go again
to school to school every day
what can i say
feeling so sad so misplaced
feeling alone lost
where is grace where is grace
am i just blinded cold and old
with changes
getting harder to bend
harder to fill these empty spaces
yes it will pass it will go it will fade
when i remember
this world to me is a mystery
it ain't that it is this
it is this gotta feel it
gotta taste it gotta live it
so lonely and cold
tell me why is it
am i young by myself in my heart
is it false
what do i need to let go of
maybe the feeling of ownership
maybe the labels i cling to
if i call myself artist or mother or woman
does it bring me worth
what am i without them
me
feel it burning yes i feel it burning
with its own light its own life its own fire and mystery
me
so i sit here and write it and know
we all die
so what is the point please
i need to know
just to live breathe and share what about those who suffer
i've got to name some things as wrong
all in my heart i feel pain
i don't want it
i'll read watch and play till i can't feel at all
will i can i do i make a difference
what if it's all down and down again down
no more i'm too tired exhausted and mired in the
proof of a heart that's too stupid to live in this place
too naive too untrained too beat down
i feel maimed by the living i've done and the
wars that i wage
all that i want is to sit in the love
to sit in the light to live on and on
it's not like that though
we're all going on and it's maybe today or next year
all i know is i'm scared and i'm old
and too young
i'm missing me missing me
come home now i'm scared
please can you stop for a minute let's talk
hold my hand hold this moment
it's over too soon
i'm hurting for family for friends for a heart
that won't hate too much hurt too much
please give me shelter
just for a minute for love and for strength
give me shelter
just sit with me here
till the dawn


mjp

Your Song Is Over Here

I hope you can see now

traveling on different tracks to
a different destination

away from me

You're everywhere now

blooming like a flower and I feel

alone

a little bitter, a little torn,

wishing I'd been with you -

could have helped somehow

The song you sang and sometimes
let me share is over here

it's over here

There's a twister inside me

tearing me open with questions

with impotent rage

Too strong, too empty, too filled with myself

I feel you inside and miss your eyes

familiar like me

where are you now

for my friend

BE

Hopelessness is a lie. It is a lie. When we realize no one is coming for us, our deepest fears are exposed, one by one. The mad scramble of avoidance is eroded as hope of rescue disappears. And what is left?

Our strength. We are always newborns, learning to stand on shaky legs, learning they are strong enough to carry us if we will just use them. Remember your truth, it is the only way to light your path. Be still. Be kind. There is only love.

Good Bye Hello

Finally, finally today I cried about my dad. You know how you can deny something and all the while it's right there, pressing in, giving you less space to move and breathe in all the time? Well...

I'm slowly, so slowly, learning to trust my own timing. I'm just so accomplishment oriented that to be in a state of near paralysis over something, anything (even the death of a loved one), is an open invitation for my ego to bash my self-esteem into some kind of forlorn, bitter submission. Forget it. Just forget it.

I realize (admit) I feel my dad everywhere. It's just that my mind can't comprehend it. I am grieving his passing, bombarded by images I push away before they can have impact. Feeling an overload of conflicting evidence. Mind, heart, spirit - all informed of different truths - all of them TRUTHS. So much to deal with, and I know it's not over, but thank God for this breakthrough.

In this moment, I can see that I was feeling this bigness of my dad with far more comprehension than I would allow because in my sad, needing mind, I was afraid if I really let that in and accepted it, he would go away. If I just didn't look or acknowledge these things, maybe he would stay longer, not leave me - offer more evidence, stay my dad. Oh I'm so afraid to let go. It's the re-realization that I am not in control of this. I'm not in control of this. I have no way to feel him or not feel him or make him stay or any of that. But to reject the gift of it is to reject all that is being given to me. Such gifts of love all the time. Such beautiful people I've met and experiences being offered for me to choose if I can just have the courage to accept them.

My time of timid bravery is over. Let me say here and now, I accept (no matter what evidence my ego so convincingly displays to the contrary) that I am good enough to receive all I hope for, that I am just what I need to be - even when I'm not painting, when I'm not writing, when I'm not grocery shopping. I accept that I am enough in every instance to become what my heart has set forth to be. There is purpose to my heart being here, and being exactly what and how I am - exactly me. I accept that my dad is here now, no matter what may happen next. I accept that he is FOR me - so for me. I surrender, and in letting go I am free once again.

Come See The Paradise

Yesterday afternoon my son came to me upset. He had heard the song from the original Disney animated Peter Pan movie, "What Makes A Red Man Red". Well.... I wisely (for once) kept my mouth shut and opened my ears.

He found the entire thing offensive in a way he couldn't quite put his finger on. It bothered him ALL DAY LONG and he was still talking about it when he got in bed. He wanted to know how such a song could be in a movie. He pointed out that it was somehow saying a person could be 'made' a color; that when he thought about the words, they implied human beings are originally something else than 'red' or whatever color... who knows (still keeping my mouth shut), and then something happened and they turned a different color than the original color. Most of all he wanted to know why it matters what color there is at all. Why can't people just be how they are and that's it.

I offered the opinion that we live in a country founded by frightened, paranoid, close-minded, fanatically puritanical murderers - there is so much blood on our hands here, what other option is there but to be racist and believe we are somehow 'superior' - or admit our almost unbearable wrongdoings... We live in our karma here in America. He said it sounds like what Bush says about terrorists.

This spawned an entirely different conversation about religion (could this possibly offend more people?) Again, I listened with my mouth SHUT. And got a completely different perspective than my own. This is what he said:

Religion has torn us from our mother earth. He said that by making people think of 'heaven' and 'future rewards' all the time (not to mention punishment just for being human), we get taken away from the earth that is our home and our paradise. It is easier to wreck the earth because religions teach us that we and it have no true or real value because we're only here for a little while. He says technology is what we have created to destroy ourselves and (his words) feel 'nirvana' but it is a lie. He thinks human beings are very, very destructive and that religion is their number one tool (followed by technology).

I had to ask him to repeat all this several times and explain different things more, because it feels so different from how I thought (or didn't think) about that aspect of religion. Wow. I'm way more naive than I thought. I have been toiling under the illusion that everyone (at their core) is always seeking to enjoy connection and the best outcome for everyone because we are all connected. I mean, I really believe that. To consider religion in this way - that at it's very basis (at least in our western construction of it) is a way of methodically stripping us of our present moment realization that we live in paradise - is shocking. That it teaches us - very slowly and patiently over time, to seek beyond this place we've been given to live, for our fulfillment, satisfaction and (shudder) salvation. INSANITY.

We are here, living on the love of our mother Earth. If you want to use a 'God' construct - there is nothing outside of God. God is Earth. God is me. God is you. God is Everything. Why do we dishonor our mother? We are here - RIGHT HERE - RIGHT NOW! That is truly all there is. There is no 'out there' heaven to reach for. That is not the lesson or we wouldn't be here. Who cares what comes after this? That is not our business! There is no way to know! This is the lesson - be here now. Love. It's all there is. And of course, my desire, my self-given purpose, is to create and experience points of connection wherever it is possible, however it is possible. Take it down to the most 'primitive' points of connection - rhythm, moving our bodies, music, using our voices, story-telling, sharing those simple experiences that the world rushes by and technology (and religion) tell us are the most humiliating, shameful vestiges of being a dirty, 'sinful' human.

But I invite you - take risks, open bigger, connect - you are included. I invite you to practice with me - giving up the need to be right at the cost of everything. To be willing to look (and feel) stupid and silly in order to experience something shining and real. Tell me your secrets - I promise I'll listen. And if you can't use words - there are so many other ways to share. I'll show you what I've learned and you can show me what you have learned! This is where truth and beauty live.

All I Could Find...

...All I could say, was - (do you remember, Nancy?)

"There is no he..."

Over and over again. When it came to "He" - there just wasn't one.

There is a blank, empty space.

Recently I was told my father didn't understand me. That I understood him, but he didn't understand me. I had come to peace with it all. Felt happy, embraced and supported by my father, even - but with that little statement my denial crashed down (faulty, insubstantial mist that it was in the first place), and I am left unsettled, vaguely angry, sad and depressed. Will nothing change?

The items I thought would comfort me are dead, empty reminders of what is NOT; tenuous mental-bonds to something that now, if I can adjust my mind just right, will become a silly fantasy based on what?... Imagination. I choose to experience PROOF - so do your part, Dad. Something for me alone. Indisputable and life-changing.

I've asked 'God' for that too, all my life. Either I'm too narrow in my vision and scope of understanding, or God's an asshole. I'm sick of the notion 'God' knows better than me, what's good for me. I'm sick of my body living here and my mind in some fantasy (no matter how back-corner tucked away it is). What does a person have to do to get some relief?

What makes me think demanding proof from my Dad is going to be any more accessible than proof from 'God'?! Actually, I trust my Dad more than I trust God. I mean, I know my Dad. And even if he didn't 'understand' me, he loved his family more than anything and I know, KNOW, that if he can do something for me, he will. Period. I have trust in that like I've NEVER had in 'God'. I know that like I know I'm drinking coffee right now, like I know I'm alive this very moment.

Fucking faith. I may want to quit, but I can't. I write through the anger and pain and find this glowing little light bulb of HOPE somewhere in the middle of everything. That's me. Where does it come from? Why doesn't it die? I feel like I've lived and it's over. Only I'm still here.

Yesterday I was flipping through the channels and saw Wayne Dyer talking about "The Power Of Intention". It was on for less than one minute, but the words seared into me. He said, "If you are questioning why you are here, what your purpose is, it is because your purpose is trying to connect with you - keep thinking about it! Keep thinking about it, because it has to start somewhere."

It felt like a message to me. That is exactly - to that specific verbage - what I have been thinking about endlessly for days, weeks and months now. It's been a vague rumbling on and off for years - forever, it seems like, but the last few months it has been the single, driving question in my heart, mind, body, soul. Myself is unified in asking, "Why am I here, what is my purpose?"

Every day. Through good times and bad, in sickness and health - you get the idea. It has sickened me. I've thought I've known several times - I don't. I don't know. To hear those words! That it is OKAY to THINK ABOUT IT - that it's GOOD to THINK about it - to KEEP thinking about it!!! That is GREAT news to a person like me - the BEST news!!! My purpose is trying very hard to connect with me - THAT'S why I'm thinking about it so much!

Well, I hope I don't die before I feel I've fulfilled my potential in some way. Whatever 'purpose' there is to be had by me being here, I hope I'm living it regardless of any consciousness of it - but you know what? That's just SHIT. I think being human sucks. I don't want to wait till I'm in some other form, after human death, to go, "Ooooohhhhh - yeah - I should have just relaxed and LIVED! Look how great my life was and I didn't even know it! Wow - I was really a lot cooler than I thought - and more secure - and I didn't need to worry at all! - look at that!" WHAT SHIT!

God IS an asshole. My Dad was too, sometimes. (me too, I know, I know....) Like I said, though, I know that if there is anything at all he could do for me - or any of his family - now, he would and will. He was like that about family. Absolutely and without doubt. So this Father's Day I'll be on the lookout, like every day. Too stupid to see what's in front of my face, no doubt... Like Depeche Mode says, "I don't want to start any blasphemous rumors, but I think that God's got a sick sense of humor and when I die, I expect to find him laughing."

Happy Dad's Day Dad. I love you. You didn't understand me (or any of us?) because you never took the time to look out from between the fused sections of your spinal cord to realize we needed you. Cough up. Your daughter, Molly

Okay, It Matters...

It matters that we are here together.

I'm walking around in a different world and can't quite seem to feel 'here'. Yesterday, as I stood in line at the store, I struggled to be present and somehow could not connect with my environment. Someone spoke to me and I never heard what they said, even though I asked him to repeat himself. Twice.

I'm being attacked by butterflies. I know it's spring and the season and all, and I love them! It's just so odd how they surround me every time I walk from my door to my car. I notice them everywhere.

My head feels fuzzy, and my body numb. It seems like I'm wandering around hypnotized, trying to wake myself with every effort possible. When will this pass? Yesterday I contemplated the numbness and started to cry for no reason I could discern. But there was nothing attached to the emotion - just tears. And those orange butterflies I catch out of the corner of my eye - or the black ones with the yellow-tipped wings - are they angels? Friends? Reminders to be gentle and patient? Or just a sign of a spring season I can't seem to feel against my skin.

Maybe I am asleep and dreaming. All I know is I will choose life and love again and again, even though the fact of my human failures (or so they seem to me) occur and reoccur and it seems I will never get it right. What if every dream is fulfilled and every need met, every soul awake in their connection and every heart welcomed freely and all there is to feel is nothing.

Love. Life. Love. Live...

Choosing To Live

There's no other choice. What does it mean to be committed to something? I'm looking at marriages of people I know, who for some reason keep choosing it over and over and over every day through hell and ever-smaller slices of heaven. But this is not about marriage to another human being. This is about marriage to life.

I sit here. here. - I am here. No doubt about that. And though it tears me, I choose to stay. I can't see why - no rhyme, no reason - no comfort or ease, no direction at all. My world crumbles but I still live. I've got nothing for you at all... nothing for me. Breath still goes in and out.

Sometimes I think I'm my father and that almost kills me. This is irony, truly... almost.

I look at these pictures and paintings and think they are not good enough for anything, not anything. I read the words I write and wonder why I still feel like a desert on fire - not the good, cleansing kind - the endless, exhausting kind. Is it burning away just the bit it means to take, or is all of me burning away with it. I don't know. Right now I'm blinded by dust and ash.

But I'm here still. And I choose that - I choose it and bless it. How can I follow a heart I can't feel? So back to faith... a big circle. Like the cell dividing to create life all over again. It's not difficult at all to comprehend that we are entirely new people every so many years - that our cells regenerate our entirety. The amazing thing is how such a weak creature can keep living. Fragile. Stubborn.

Signs of Life

The Cocoon is Breaking

I don't know what this means. I've surrendered to a force beyond my range of vision. It whispers, "keep reaching...keep reaching..." in a voice I can only feel, not hear. With no promise that motivation, inspiration, vision, dreams or clarity will ever return - ever... I keep reaching. The voice is all I'm interested in now. No willful ripping or trying will show me the way - no determination of mind, no polished skill or feather of cobalt will blaze a path. Just vibration that hints the direction of my hand. My hand outstretched in a posture both giving and receiving somehow.

I stand and listen and reach.

Starting Over (Again)

Does anyone else find coming out of sickness a depressing, difficult experience? It seems like it should be just the opposite, but for me - no. Suddenly I remember all the things I forgot to do, or need to do; it's catch-up and oops! and oh my gosh I need to get to the store NOW.

I've let all the tools of my stability fall by the wayside for a couple of days (at least) and the price is a truly uncomfortable feeling of having fallen off some wagon I didn't even know I was on. Darn it. I guess that's why it's called 'recovery'.

In any case, it definitely feels like a Monday. If I can get through the post-illness feeling of imminent destruction that falling behind gives me, things should be right-side-up in a few days.

Happy Monday, everyone!

On The Mend

Today I felt well enough to take my morning coffee out on the landing and sit for awhile in the sun. The longer I sat, the more I saw. Bees in the bushes, hummingbirds tasting the flowers, a flash of purple here, yellow there. An orange butterfly resting on a rock, slowly waiving it's wings. A squirrel peeking out from the bushes to see if the ducks we feed ('Mesa' and 'Verde') were going to eat their snacks or if he could beat them to it.

And I got to breathe with them. I got to feel the pulse of life that unites everything. I'm so grateful to be alive. All the things... all these things that exist together to sing their joy of being.

Sometimes it's all a mess to me; a confusion I can't figure out. All the things... these beautiful gifts of grace sent like butterfly kisses on the soft breeze. Never to impose, hoping but not needing, to be felt. Always there to catch my heart when my mind has finally surrendered it's pointless distracted interference and can harmonize itself with the endless song of being. Does anyone love being human?

All the things... all these lovely, heartbreaking things.

Congratulations Couples!

Ode To Love

How fickle, love....

My love

As fickle as my heart loves itself

My beloved,

I look upon the mirror of you

and see projected, reflected,

My lover, my friend one moment

A cheap betrayer the next

The object of most poisonous

Rage and intolerance yet the next

They are all reflections of my own

fickle heart...

And when my heart has offered

Itself to the fire enough times,

When Truth becomes the mantra,

The being, the beating, the breath

I see you as you are

And I love you again

Well, another wonderful Soltura workshop has been completed (http://www.soltura.net/) by some courageous couples! Congratulations to all of you. I hope the experience was one of connection and growth that welcomes you to the next adventure in your lives together.

Spring Sickness

Every year I get sick after the whole 'flu-season' is over, and every year it happens just when I really believe I've gotten off free and get cocky about how healthy I am. Big sigh... through my mouth since my nose is to stuffy to breathe through. Blah.

It's almost over though, this illness. I'm babying myself along till I feel human again.

Wishing you health, happiness and whole-hearted heartiness! (creativity is running low - maybe I'm blowing it all out my nose... bluck.)

Privacy

I used to be obssessed with privacy. I hated anyone to know anything I didn't want them to. Then I had my privacy violated - with and without my knowledge in a plethora of ways that left me utterly confused, lost and in despair. I lost my faith in human beings - shocked that anyone would or could do the things that were done to me - that someone would actually choose on purpose to do those things to another living soul.

Over a long, long period of time I began to see and understand how that desperate quest for privacy was, in part, an effort to deny things I've done in my own life that I felt ashamed of. Because of my inability to accept myself, I practically opened the door to some truly horrible experiences and invited them right in. I share these things not with a feeling of bitterness or victimization, but in order to give voice to what I've learned in this long, sometimes painful journey that is not over yet.

I offer this in a spirit of fearlessness and peace because in my heart, there is nothing but compassion for myself and all of us on this journey through our lives. I still have fear about sharing myself, about moving forward, about trusting. The difference is now I know what is in my heart, who I am, that 'me' is someone I can trust.

If you are suffering in the darkness of confusion, pain, loss, fear... please know that my prayers are with you every day. From the depths of suffering endured in my own life, I know and am committed to the offering that no one should ever feel they are there alone.

Evolution

For awhile all my paintings were three or four put together. It's kind of amazing (in hindsight of course), how clearly that style represented the state of my life.

Over time it's evolving into one picture per canvas or paper. It hasn't been a conscious evolvution, just a reflection of the wholeness in my heart.

Mind is so powerful and heart so strong - they are often at odds with each other. The need my heart feels to express, touch and connect is sometimes smothered by the boxes my mind tries to (pointlessly) contain me in. My heart will not be defeated and slowly I'm learning to trust it to light the next step on the path, regardless of seemingly endless obstacles.

To share this journey has required a suspension of judgements; stopping the 'not good enough' thoughts, and that terrible derisive scorn aimed at expressions of me. Slowly I'm realizing my ego does not have to win every battle; that's not the foregone conclusion anymore. In that kind of light, the beauty of your heart and mine can blossom. Maybe what is offered is rough and jagged... sometimes painful and stumbling. Sometimes our hearts are so long unexpressed that its' song comes out clumsy, contrary, wrong! The point is that unless that risk is taken, we will never touch each other.

Sound of Creation

Sing the song of your creation

bright of heart, bright of mind

look into the changing mirror

cherish light and love divine

When you hear the gentle whisper

of your heart, it's song sublime

you will know that we are one

my hand in yours and yours in mine

Commitment

I used to be really confused about what commitment was and so became phobic about it. Once I learned that for me it is to know and honor my heart and keep choosing to live that, commitment became a lot less scary. Even though that sounds like a small job, it requires everything every day.

When I forget and grow numb again, my life becomes chaotic. To remember, I look to the details of my living to give me the meaning I need to go on. The sum of the details shows me what I am in fact committed to and make choices and decisions from there. Sometimes the fear of failure or the sudden certainty I'm accomplishing nothing and hurting other lives in the process comes over me and it's hard to find my way home again.

In the simplicity of being me, I realize that's the whole job and the path becomes visible once more. Today when I complained about feeling like I'm swimming against the tide, my son said, "do what you have to do, then go with the flow." Out of these words of wisdom I realized I'm kind of lagging on the "do what you have to do" part. Big sigh. It's my responsibilitly to make my life happen, and when things don't go as I think they should, it's time to get down to the very details, become present and know that when I trust my heart life is as it should be.

I'm committed to that.

No Bed Of Roses

In the style of Gustav Klimt

painted 10/07

Let the art speak.

Light

One of my major battles is overcoming my negativity. It's been such a habit and a home (prison more like), that escape seemed a dream and failure a guaranteed outcome. Sometimes I forget to allow that progress is being made! It's easy to complain about other people not seeing who I am today versus who they knew in the past... Often I need to include myself in that group.

Today during my morning meditation, I realized I was actually struggling toward negativity, thinking 'victim', feeling powerless and defeated, like nothing would ever change. This old, worn-out trick was exposed in the light of the sun rising in my heart and could not be taken seriously anymore. It's over. That darkness is gone unless I pursue it with all my strength and who would be fool enough to keep choosing that? Not me.

This is not a forced victory gained by angrily defeating an enemy. More a dawning of gentle acceptance and knowing there are choices to be made; with no guaranteed outcome! To live in that uncertainty is to be truly alive. I'm willing to be wrong and accept the inevitable humbling that comes with it in order to shed another layer of that old, dead skin and live the truth within.

The Path I Fear To Tread

You know that saying about being your own worst enemy? Well, I'm sick of that being such an obvious force of operation in my life. For every step forward, up comes a defensive block out of the darkness to make me scratch my head in wonder again. Who needs external obstacles when my own internal ones work so well...

When opportunity opens, I hem, haw, go numb, become preoccupied with other things to do, isolate, let fear of what 'could' happen overrun even the smallest acceptance of the good fortune I am working so hard to create for myself and my family. It's so easy to sweep those opportunities under the rug or out the door. Sometimes it's returning a phone call - that's all it would take to bring the opportunity of selling a painting, having a new experience of friendship, going somewhere for enjoyment (imagine that!).

I know that I must take action - open the door - do what I say - claim what is being offered! How can I possibly hope to live the life I am creating when by one means or another I reject the rewards of that work?! Every time the cycle of accepting the outcome (whatever it may be) of working hard comes around, I backpeddle. For a long time there was outright rejection and no consciousness of it. Now I'm seeing it and ready to step beyond frustration and confusion to whatever is next. Perhaps that sounds simple. Maybe it even is simple...

All I know is that I feel fear, fear, fear at the prospect of moving out of my comfort zone of scarcity and struggle into the light of...... And there you have it. The unknown. All I have to do is let go, then take the simple actions and steps that will show me the next landscape of my creation. Today I dedicate myself to this path (again).

Being Patient

Just a suggestion... NEVER pray to be patient. I don't know if anyone else has had this wonderful experience of praying for something then getting opportunity after opportunity to practice it. Yeah - it seems like a good idea at the time (what with patience being such a virtue and all), but let me tell you - the universe operates by some pretty specific laws and those cliches (for example, 'be careful what you wish for'....) are cliches for a reason. I figure I'm a lot safer to pray for wisdom to deal with all that wonderful money that's mysteriously headed my way in the future! hee hee...

We're headed for the end of spring-break over here, and eeking out as much laughter and sleeping-in as possible before we begin that last long-haul till the end of the school year. The weather is perfect, the baby birds are chirruping away in their nest under the eaves, the squirrels are actually barking in the trees while they whip their tails around to attract other squirrels... they also dig in my plants and I have to restrain myself from sicking the cats on them when they come sneaking up to my patio. They are so bold! It's been a great week.

On the other hand, I have nothing but sympathy for the rest of my family, suffering in the APRIL SNOWFALL as winter hangs on for yet another day? week? month? Surely not. I wish I could get them out here to visit me. Sometimes you just need a hug from your mom - or maybe she needs one from you. In any case, midwesterners, be patient! Spring is coming and will be all the sweeter for the slow death of that wicked, winter witch. Sending sunshine and gentle wind your way!

Working...

I'm working on taking photos of the smaller paintings I've done. I'm preparing for the website and it seems like obstacle after obstacle.

The last few days have been tedious as photography is something I'm painfully inept at. Please forgive the: crookedness, stupid flash bulb reflection I can't seem to turn off.... You get the idea.

These are paintings I do when I'm waiting for the next big labor of love to break through. They are little exercises, like yoga in the morning. They are about 10.25" x 10.25" framed and ready to hang. Every bit of it is hand-made except the glass, of course. I feel like I'm wandering around in the dark a bit here, but why not?

Not bad for morning yoga anyway...

The website is a way off, I fear. I've realized it's going to take more preparation to create something that is sustaining and professional. There are areas I have no knowledge or training in and it takes more than a few paintings and a handful of ideas to get a business up and running. Working on that too... In the meantime, I'm offering what's available and moving forward as best I can.

Well, that's the extent of the smaller paintings for now. I've got another one on the table, in process of being painted. I really enjoy the almost instant gratification of these little ones. When my mind is full of 'to-do' lists and panic about this or that and I'm certain the desire and ability to create any kind of art has left me forever, I just get to work on one of these little ones and they lead me back to my heart.

That's it for today. Back to photographing the final pieces I haven't done yet and moving forward. I'm about ready to get that brush back in my hand. I have nothing but admiration for artists with a camera. In fact, anyone who wants to see some gorgeous, funny, intelligent (not to mention award-winning!) unique art with a camera should check out http://lostartphotos.com/.

Wishing you peace and joy this day!

The Unseen

What little joy I see in myself

or all that surrounds me

Only smooth, round stones

laid across the desert

interesting, passionless, dry and intelligent

kingdoms quiver in the air, like heat

to be plucked by the choosers hand, and now I do not

hesitate, but walk down this lane and that,

plucking as though master of this orchard

testing the fruit of many trees

and master I am - yet where is joy?

Perhaps joy has many faces

and this is a time of sure

movement and weighted delivery

perhaps joy is grave today

a companion in armor who guards the path

that I may look in

one direction

-mjp

Thank God For Sisters!

When I get stuck and lose perspective, I call my sisters and they share their lives with me, listen to me talk and vent, tell me the honest truth (even in the face of my denial - now that's brave!), and tell me how much they love me.

Priceless.

My sisters are beautiful, silly and sassy, mothers, friends, women of culture and intelligence, emotional basket cases and as wise as the earth. Thank you so much for sharing yourselves with me. And listening. All my love!

Ready For Spring Break

Just as my son was about to go to bed last night we 'discovered' a math project that was due today, of course, and no evidence of it in sight. He was up till 10:30 p.m. working on it. And again this morning... Up at 5:50 a.m., at school at 7:00 a.m. to pick up the parts he 'forgot', raced back home where I 'helped' a bit (printed out a table of contents) while he frantically cut, pasted and decorated his way to a completed geometry project (worth 250 points!). He made it to school five minutes late, but thankfully his project won't be. Whew!

I couldn't stop lecturing the whole time, of course. Thankfully this is the last day of school before spring break. An entire week off to relax (?) and enjoy ourselves. What a way to kick it off! By the time I got home this morning, with glue and black sharpie on my hands, hair still uncombed and morning chores yet to be done, all I wanted to do was shrink enough to join the buddha in my cactus bowl outside. Doesn't that look peaceful?? Aaahhhh.... This is my idea of a plant, by the way; low maintenance, variety of color and pretty (the most important part of course!).

Here's to a peaceful and productive spring break.

Step 2...

So this painting is the super-quick preparation sketch for the large tree-painting I'm working on. Forgive the photography - I can not seem to figure out how to take a proper photo. The flash goes off when I don't want it to and drowns out the detail, which happened here. Anyhow - I decided to frame the quick-painting to see how it would look and it came out nicely, I think! The 6' x 4' will be the same view but in proper proportion, with the entire tree and more scenery showing, more detail, texture, etc.

This is the famous 'Witch Tree' located in Minnesota and the painting I was commissioned to do oh-so-long ago... Thank you for your patience. I'm working on it. It took a long time to find the proper photo to work from... I tried different versions and they were such a struggle. I couldn't live with the outcome(s). This one seems to be working well so far. Of course the finished version will be much more exciting than this preliminary exercise. I'm really excited to see it.

Happy Day of Rest

Yesterday I volunteered at my son's school to help with the spring photos. Wow. It was a long day; 8:30 till 3:45. I was amazed at the differences between the kids in 6th grade and those in 8th, behavior, height, etc. All of them look so grown up to me. I don't remember - uh - 'needing a bra' until like, freshman year in high school and even then it was more like a hope-for-the-future double-A than something I actually needed. Most of the girls including the 6th graders are well in advance of that I can tell you. Jeez. This is definitely a sign that I'm getting old. At least my child wasn't embarrassed to see me there - he still likes it. I think it's partly because he's a boy and partly because I'm such a spazz the kids can kind of relate to me. Of course my 'nice mom' voice disappeared a few hours in and one of the other volunteers told me I missed my calling - I should have been a prison warden. hee hee hee....

So today I just ran errands and am venturing into potting my first 'flowering' plants ever. I am not a plant person - in the past they've all died on me, but I've managed to keep a rather large group of succulents and a cactus bowl alive for a couple of years now (yes, I know - they only need water once a month and can live in almost any light), but hey - they're alive and they look pretty. Now that spring is really getting underway, I'm inspired to try a bigger project and got some yellow lilies and red flowers of some kind (no idea what they are) that require the same conditions as the lilies. Tomorrow is the big planting day - I'm so excited!

Happy Spring!

The Lie of Survival

There's a poem I remember from when I was little that says: "In the mirror I can see lots of things, but mostly me." Every once in a while it repeats in my head and I wonder why it's stuck with me so firmly.

Over the last few days I've been conflicted about a situation in my environment. One of my friends has continually lied, given false, misleading or exaggerated information and used manipulation to get what she feels she needs. As usual, when someone else is behaving like that, it's as transparent to everyone as if it was a child trying to deny eating the brownies with the evidence all over her face.

I care for this woman and her family and after months of cycling through feeling used, angry at being deceived (again) knowing I will never get the 'real' story and honestly not knowing what to do or how to help, pieces of a bigger picture are finally emerging.

I recognize this behavior as if it was my own because I have behaved this way before in my life. The internalization of 'the truth is always better' was a long, slow, painful road for me - one I'm still learning from and choosing to live every day. In an attempt to save the friendship, I kept questioning, 'why does she do it?' This is a lovely, sensitive woman who is full of faith and feels God is her only source of trust and comfort. So why? The answer was obvious - she feels it's necessary to survive.

I remember that desperation. That complete lack of faith in people, the world and my own ability to take care of myself. When I put my own survival first, when I felt I was on the brink of destruction with no security, I acted like she did. I never offered anything to anyone without an eye toward possible future gain for myself. I could never see people as 'people'; they were only a way for me to get through the next day, the next week, the next month - what could they give me? My whole life was a desperate plea to get my needs met somehow without taking on that responsibility for myself. And I lied to myself about it all so I wouldn't have to see that chocolate on my cheeks.

That is the lie of survival. The lie my ego got away with for so long... the lie that can make beautiful, sensitive people full of light and compassion become frightened, addicted liars and manipulators. The truth is, we are not here to 'survive'. Our survival is not in question. Ever. It's not the point, it's not even a baseline to live from. We are here to shine no matter what. No matter the circumstances. I've looked at my empty cupboards, stack of bills and broken car and been terrified about how it's all going to work. I've spent months and years focusing on the seemingly insurmountable challenges and done many things to get to the next place I could take a breath. And the situation remained the same.

Somehow, by some grace, I've chosen to move my heart from survival to telling, living, breathing, being the truth, my truth, no matter what, and guess what? I'm still here. My eyes are now on my family, friends and neighbors as I offer what comes from my heart - pretty or ugly - and believe me, it's all there. It's all I can do - all anyone can do, maybe. Be authentic, say what's true in any moment, trust like your survival is guaranteed (because it is), and see what happens next.

I'm hoping I can be a better friend now, having looked in the mirror of her, finding myself, and choosing to love both of us better.

Becoming...

My friend is suffering. Her sharing reminded me that self-acceptance is not something you do once and it's permanent, never to be thought of again. It's a daily choice to be cherished close to the warmth of the heart so it stays conscious and alive. I can only offer words from my heart and prayers for her comfort.

When I think of love, it's always moving, like wind or water or fire; alive and breathing. I like to accomplish things and it makes me brittle and hard. I break easily under the pressure of finishing tasks. I forget all the time that the key is remaining fluid, moving, alive... Some things don't get done at all, or they get done much later than I thought. If I can just allow that I am not a failure because of that, my process remains in motion and I bloom instead of freeze and break off into fragmented pieces of jobs half-done and harsh judgements that leave me scattered.

I can't become aware of my responsibilities until I let go of the judgements I weight myself with. My ego is constantly telling me how brilliant I am while simultaneously berating me for every tiny, less-than-perfect moment. All it wants is for me to become completely distracted with these exaggerated praises and punishments so I will forget to live from my heart; forget I am soft and human.

In Mark Nepo's book, "Facing the Lion, Being the Lion", he talks about how in the Torah, when God is asked for his name, the reply is, "I am Becoming...." When I read this, it brought me to tears. Part of me, the part that wants to FINISH things (and do it perfectly) - the part that, when closely examined leads toward death, was furious and frustrated that it was being asked to live with the fluid motion of life in a never-ending process of becoming. My heart, however, recognizes these words as an alive, joyful truth that allows me to share in the becoming of everything! That is a wide-open experience including all that is happy and sad, painful, joyful, 'mistakes', triumphs - and friendship within it all. I am honored to have such wonderful friends who are willing to share their times of turmoil and joy with me. Love & Peace.

Harmony

The last couple of mornings I've woken up feeling good. This is the time I usually let up on myself and coast for awhile. Since I'm determined to expand into new places, it's time to do something different; stay awake, push into territory beyond my comfort zone.

The old familiar pattern is feel good, let things slide until there's a pile-up or 'situation' to deal with, keep sliding until I'm in a hole again... numb because I forgot things are constantly changing and alive and growing, but I decided to hold on to feeling good instead of letting daily life impact me. It seems like so much WORK to stay fluid. Mind, mind, mind talking...

So I took a few deep breaths with my eyes closed, then opened them with the intention of being truly present to this moment now. There's this sort of stillness that happens when I pay attention. I can feel the vibration of the body within my body. It's an actual physical sensation, like a low-grade electrical contact that doesn't hurt, just awakens me. Now there are choices instead of a pile-up, and I can still feel. If I can just be still enough and listen so gently, like a humble invitation, my heart tunes itself to the pulse that connects everything. The quiet joy of singing my part in harmony is by far better than the spotlight-solo my ego tries to deafen me (and you) with. Wishing you peace and harmony this day.

Let's try that one again...

Today 'the painters' are coming to power-wash the building before painting the trim and I'm going to have to go out there and protect the little bird nest under the eaves by my window. They come back every year and I love the sound of those baby chirps. So do my cats - this is free entertainment at its best. Eventually the birds realize there's glass in between them and the awful monsters who obviously want to eat them. They hover in front of the window up and down a few inches, up and down - it's so sassy! - until one of my poor predator kitties, helpless to it's primal instincts, lunges and hits the window, falls off the sill and hits the floor, hopefully not knocking anything over on the way down. Again. And again. My son and I laugh at this elaborate ritual, amazed that the cats will do it over and over - including the whole preamble of stalking and silent movement toward something that is taunting them! You'd think they'd figure it out.

It's all too familiar though. A perfect demonstration of the way I tend to learn things myself. Sigh. I just finished a painting, actually hung it and took a photo, then wanted to just do 'one more thing' to make the glass more stable in the frame. Uh-huh. This is one of those things you'd think I'd have learned by now - how and when to STOP. No. Nope. Uh-uh. After oh-so-carefully adding some special glue into the crack and letting it dry... some of it seeped to the inside (I know this! I've done this before!!!) and now I must come up with a creative way to add half an inch of something to the outside of the frame to cover this up. I've got some great ideas that will add to the painting and it really needed a wider framed area, but GOSH... It was FINISHED!!! big sigh...

Maybe next time.

Knowing My Heart

When I was little, I felt so lost and confused. I loved to draw and color and one time, when I went to stay with my aunt and uncle, they praised me for what a good artist I was. I cherish that memory and know in that moment I recognized something in myself of value. Expression through visual art was effortless, fun, absorbing, wonderful. And I got approval for it.

Art has never left me and has sometimes saved me. It took a long time for me to know maybe it was something I should or could choose to share and make my life with. My heart is in it.

The two driving forces in my mind have been money and approval. The need to have enough money to survive and do something I will get approval for along with a predetermined attitude of defeat and failure on both counts, left me in a stagnant pond of settling for crumbs and thinking it's all I deserve. Not only that, a little approval was all it took to get me to stop moving forward. Like an addict, I would go from approval fix to approval fix feeling like a guilty failure the whole time. Knowing something was 'wrong' and having no idea how to feel clean and whole.

Slowly I've gotten to know and like myself! I've had and continue to have amazing help along the way (for the opportunity of a life-changing experience, check out soltura.net). I've learned living my heart out loud is the path for me. And now I'm finally pushing beyond the boundaries of my stagnant little pond to risk my heart, my art, myself - not for money, not for your approval and the temporary feeling of satisfaction it provides... simply to live and share my life with you, share the best of me with whatever part of the world I can touch. Yikes!

Shadow Clone

This morning while I was chanting, I got an image of myself behind myself - pushing the front one forward, holding it up like a puppet or clone. It struck me like a vivid dream that leaves a deep though ambiguous impression, and lingers...

I thought that shadow clone was protecting me - that my true self was the one behind, becoming strong while that puppet in front suffered the damage. When I turned to look in the mirror, I saw that the puppet being sacrificed is me.

I made a vow last year around this time that continues to change my life. Because of it I am able to share my heart for better or worse, without apology. Every day I feel gratitude for this life, even though that old saying, "Be careful what you wish for, you might get it" holds true in a sense. To desire and pray for peace, love, acceptance, unity... that is easy and 'noble'. When the realization comes that I must become peace, love, acceptance and unity, the path becomes much more personal and challenging. There's no turning back here. Every time I embrace all of myself in that mirror instead of being split and sacrificed, I am living in the fulfillment of my desire. In those moments, I can look into your eyes and truly see my brother, my sister, my father and mother, my child, my friend, my self.

Loosening My Grip

My mind likes to play tricks on me. Sometimes I buy in, but lately I've chosen to grit my teeth and step forward whether I like it or not. And the reward is?..... Integration; another piece of me gets to enjoy the light.

To choose over mind feels so dangerous and is, in fact, simple. To get in the car and go somewhere new feels hard and is, in fact, simple. To look into the eyes of yet another someone new and say the truth while allowing the emotions to connect and be expressed feels impossible and happened to me today. I chose to step back from the complications of my duplicitous mind and speak from my heart. I chose to believe in the truth of me without second-guessing or expecting the worst outcome; to share what's real without thoughts of what I will win or lose or endanger.

I drove home feeling calm and quiet, experiencing love for myself and knowing that my heart has grown so large and free that those boundaries my mind was so furiously convincing me not to step over became first obscured and then invisible. Every time this cycle repeats and I choose to step through those clamoring fears into the unknown, my heart burns more brightly and freely. The more I loosen my grip on the old stories and say 'this is how it is now, right now - these are my hopes and dreams and goals!', the more those dreams become my reality. All my life I've tried to be smart enough not to feel so painfully wrong in my skin. Now I choose to embrace the simplicity of taking one step at a time, embraced by people who really want me to succeed and care about me. I roared like a lion yesterday! Right in the face of those clamoring fears, and just stepped into the unknown. Today it feels like anything is possible.

Wings

Art is the cry of the soul from the core of one's being. Creating and appreciating art set free the joyous soul trapped deep within us. That is why art causes such joy. Art, quite aside from any question of skill or its lack, is the emotion, the pleasure of expressing one's life exactly as it is. Those who see such art are moved by its passion, its strength, its intensity and its beauty. That is why it is impossible to separate fully human life from art.
-Daisaku Ikeda

Prayer is the courage to persevere. It is the struggle to overcome our own weakness and lack of confidence in ourselves. It is the act of impressing in the very depths of our being the conviction that we can change the situation without fail.
-Daisaku Ikeda

Enough said!

Spring!

There was a power outage this morning. It was less than an hour, but long enough to remind me how utterly addicted to coffee I am. I actually considered trying to use a lighter to heat it. So sad. When I looked out the window (after locating said lighter and realizing candles were more appropriate than the coffee idea), I saw frost on the roofs of the buildings around mine. Yikes! FROST. Isn't it supposed to be spring? The whole power-out/frosty-California morning gave me that 'snow day' feeling and I could hear neighbors calling out to each other to see if their power was out too. It's a very informal neighborhood. It made for an altogether charming Monday morning and energized me for the errands and chores to come because...

I relaxed (ran, hid, escaped?) this weekend, and I'll spend the rest of the week making up for it. There is definitely something to be said for a workspace outside the home. Or a home big enough to contain a specific place for 'the work' to happen. There never seems to be a clean escape from my need to accomplish the next thing. So today is catch-up and move ahead. This is the week of pushing forward into the new and uncomfortable area of possible success! Learning things (website or bust)! Acting on my determination! (The exclamation points are my pep-talk.) I have a million reasons it would be better to wait. My caution lights are on yellow-alert, just waiting till I actually move forward, then they'll start that noisy red flashing thing. Do I care? GOD yes.... Will I let it stop me?

Touching Love

Two days in my head. Now that's what I call a l-o-n-g weekend. Last night during my movie/TV marathon of madness, I burst into tears for no apparent reason and determined to really 'give it some thought' tomorrow.

Well it's today, and thought has gone out the window with the blessing of finding home again. When I sat to chant, I decided first to put my confusion into words. Something I love about the Buddhism I practice is the principle of turning poison into medicine. That is exactly what happened this morning. I started talking out loud, just getting it out: the confusion, the endless interpretations of 'why' it's this way or that way, the beating myself up for being me. Finally empty, clear and ready, I raised my eyes to begin and just then the wind blew through the window, puffing the curtains, moving the branches in the tree outside and surrounding me. As I chanted, I began to feel transparent; present.

I have so much love in my heart. I am human. It doesn't matter if I screw it up, I'm not going to run out of love or hope. For me, it's trust... When all the thoughts are expressed and my mind maze is exhausted, my heart just burns with love and the desire to share. Suddenly 'I' disappear and all there is is love. It doesn't matter if the sharing is imperfect, or has unexpected outcomes I never dreamed of 'good' or 'bad'. It is enough to be and share. I wish I could convey that transparent feeling. The blue, sun-filled sky, the breeze touched with birdsong, the tree loving me. With my whole heart, I wish to share that with you.

Connection

Last night as I was trying to fall asleep, I heard revving engines and loud voices outside. Usually I take it as long as I can, then shut the window (loudly), put in the one earplug I can find, or lay there and fume until the noise stops, cussing under my breath.

This time I just listened. There was no anger in me, just connection to the people outside fighting to get their car back from the tow-truck that stalks our parking areas with inconsistent consistency. I fell asleep wishing them good luck.

This morning when I got ready to chant, I opened my window to let out the incense smoke and happened to see a car down there, engine running, two HUGE guys standing around waiting for something or someone. In this apartment complex you can hear everything, so I felt a little exposed doing my normal morning thing. I made my coffee, cleaned and straightened my altar area, and when I flicked my lighter to light the candles, they both looked up at my window to check it out. Of course I jumped back, then calmly continued my routine. As I sat to begin, I found myself feeling connected to these guys (I wish you could have seen them, seriously....), hoping they were still there because I was simply overflowing with desire for everyone to be blessed with joy and ease today. If you knew how fearful and grumpy I can be, you would know what a blessing this is.

Then the gardeners came... with the weed-whackers and the leaf-blowers and the outside volume increased SOOOOOOO much. And all I felt was connection to these guys working their butts off so they can keep on living. Today I am graced with the gift of experiencing the connection I'm sure is there all the time. My attitude is gentle, eyes and heart wide, hoping to see and be seen. There's nothing but love and curiosity in my heart. And a desire to give and share whatever I can with hope it will bring joy and connection to everyone and everything this day.