Divine Guidance

Trust and be patient with the knowledge that all is in Divine Order.  Truer words have never been uttered, meditated and absorbed.  It’s been my favorite affirmation of the year. The moment I heard the words for the first time on June 29, they resonated with me.

It’s been an amazing year filled with challenges and transformation, abundance and prosperity.  I wake up most days giddy and dance around the apartment because my life is SERIOUSLY RIDICULOUS!  (Seriously ridiculous is a good thing and measures past AWESHOME that is of course better then AWESOME – but the “shs” added to most words when expressing greatness is another story.)  But as I learned from a wise woman’s message on that same June 29, “It’s easy to be a Truth student/practitioner when one’s life is going great.”

As I begin my first month of being 40, so many things are happening and so many things I know will happen and so many things I want to happen RIGHT NOW!  It’s been said to be mindful of what you put out there because the Universe just might say,”Okay… You asked for it.  Here you go.  Let’s see what you can do.”  It’s been my practice over the last two months or so to go within and believe that all is in Divine Order.  Things are going to happen when they are supposed to happen.  This doesn’t mean I get to sit on the sofa and eat Bon Bons (you know, I don’t even think I’ve ever eaten a Bon Bon) until life and events happen.  Instead, I’ve been meditating (or the best version of meditation I’m currently capable of) and listening to the soft SMART voice from my Heart and blocking (as best I know how) the loud NOT HELPFUL voice from my brain.  My apartment will get rented, I will continue to get lose pounds, inches, body fat, I will get certified, new ventures will develop, my clients will come and I will be successful and abundant.

Last Friday night, I received a really great gift from one of my Divinely Talented and Beautiful friends, Sheila.  It was a box set of TAO Oracle cards and before you roll your eyes or shake your head or do a combo of both ask yourself why you are doing either of those actions.  What I believe folks miss the boat on with regards to any form of card reading is that Cards when used as a tool for transformation and personal growth provide guidance.  In my opinion, all of the answers we need are within.  We are born with Truth and Knowledge and the key is to unlock the door and take a walk through the library.  Sometimes locating the right book is simple and located on the table at the front of the library in full display ready for prime time.  For me, it’s walking through aisle after aisle and possibly using the mahogany wood ladder to climb up to shelves and blow off the dust of volumes patiently waiting for my discovery.

I like to start my morning in silence and look out my picture window at the sun warming the buildings across the street.  I do my best to center myself and focus on a word or an affirmation.  With my new TAO cards, I focus on the present, shuffle the cards and pull from the deck one card.  By going within, my Heart knows which card will best serve me for the day.  I can contemplate on the meaning and at the end of the day go back to it and reflect on the card’s message in light of all events which had occurred.  Powerful and fun stuff!

Loyalty and Wishing

I woke up just shy of 6:00 am to the sun painting its sky blue with a deep shading of red. It’s been a week since I’ve witnessed a sunrise so beautiful and longer still since I’ve witnessed a sunrise so beautiful in Manhattan.

With the sand from one of the longest night sleeps since I’ve returned from Italy shedding itself from my eyelashes, I stretched every muscle and pushed myself onto my forearms. There resting in a state of peacefulness and vibrant beauty were my sunflowers from last night’s birthday celebration.

Since I’m a fan of symbolism and meaning behind the simplicity and wonder in all of Nature, I researched the Sunflower. The Sunflower defines loyalty and wishing. My next task was defining loyalty and wishing, because after all, a word you think you’ve known your whole life just might surprise you.

Loyalty – a feeling or attitude of devoted attachment and affection.
Wishing – to have a desire or yearning; to long; to hanker (seriously, when was the last time YOU used the word HANKER?)

You know the kind of smile you smile when you think you couldn’t possibly smile any larger and understand the phrase “smiling from ear to ear”? You know the kind of smile when you are positive every tooth in your mouth is visible far behind the confines of a room? You know the kind of smile when your cheeks actually begin to twinge with a happy ache? You think so? Yes, well my smile is bigger!

I’m blessed with the most beautiful, creative, sweet, loving, caring, intelligent, funny (and I mean slap your knee oh my God I can’t breathe from laughing so hard funny) and spiritual friends. My 40th birthday celebration spent in Riverside Park with people who make you feel good from the inside out and the outside in was DIVINE.

Loyalty and wishing. It’s easy. The devotion and affection I feel for everyone of you present (and felt in absentia) last night is far beyond measure and my desire for you all is much love, peace, joy and wholeness.

Thank you all for being in my life, for keeping me centered and strong and for loving me. I AM SO BLESSED IT’S RIDICULOUS!

Peace, Love & Laughing like a 4 Year Old,

~Michele

Becoming An Artist

Last night during a delicious and romantic dinner, my love and I discussed what it means to be creative, to create in general and what makes one an artist. Jim (or “Face” as I like to call him) is a CFO, and I think because of the corporate title doesn’t grasp that he is anything but corporate – at least his spirit isn’t. He has the heart of a poet and feels so much when it comes to music. (When did this blog become about my man, it actually isn’t. For those who’ve read previous blogs, you will come to understand that I often digress and my musings and wonderings can take me in ten different directions all at the same time. It’s a skill!)

For Christmas, I bought him a guitar. I knew he’d love it, have fun playing and be able to relax at the same time. I’ve seen him play his old electric guitar and he’s always singing. He lights up and all I can do is smile and have his creative energy envelope me. (And, I’ll selfishly admit, I knew he’d play for me whenever I asked. I KNOW A GOOD DEAL WHEN I SEE IT!)

So back to what makes one officially an artist. There are so many friends and loved ones of mine who tell me how they aren’t artists even though they act, write, dance, draw, paint, photograph, etc. It’s as if the only way you can claim you’re an artist is if you are either “starving” or making a living from it. I find that to be a load of crap! (Excuse the bluntness…) Jim didn’t consider himself creative because he’s not writing new music or lyrics and rather playing songs other artists wrote. He told me that as a writer, I’m by definition creative because I invent a world of words on a blank piece of paper.

Our conversation made me think of an old MASH episode. (Yes, I’m a MASH fan!) In any case, the episode is about a soldier who injured one of his hands and while they were able to save the hand, it did lose a lot of its dexterity. As it turned out, this soldier was a classical pianist and believed his world to be over. His surgeon, the character “Charles Emerson Winchester” ended up finding him music that was specifically translated for someone with only one hand. These translations were from famous classical artists – Mozart, Beethoven, etc. Charles who was classically trained on the piano told the soldier that while he can play these pieces he didn’t have inside of him what the pianist did. For Charles, he could just play the notes before him on the page. For the pianist, he played the music – it came from a place inside that couldn’t possibly be “trained” or “learned”.

I told Jim that it didn’t matter if he was playing music from another artist because he does more than play – he feels the music. I’m sure many of you have attended concerts where the music and words performed from an individual and/or a group seemed to appear as if a gift. It’s very true.

This past weekend, a dear friend gave me a beautiful necklace. Within the packaging was a saying which I think expresses best how any of us become artists:

We become artists when we see with our hearts instead of our eyes. – Anonymous

Here’s to a creative 2008!

All I Want…

It’s a beautiful Christmas Eve morning in Manhattan.  The sun is creeping up the bricks of the apartment buildings across the street – waking and warming them.  It’s mischievous – the weather.  As I gaze outside from my living room, Mother Nature has me convinced that if I venture out, her rays will warm me.  However, it’s quite another story.  It’s more likely my cheeks would be snapped by bursts of crisp December air – energizing me from my core.  A visual and sensation I’d happily accept.  I’m in my city for the holidays.  I haven’t been able to say that in five years.  Despite being away from family in Florida for the second holiday in a row, I know this is where I’m supposed to be.  Isn’t it an amazing feeling to be able to quiet your mind and listen to heart?  The heart really is much smarter than most give credit.

A year ago, I ran away from home – so to speak.  I woke up two weeks before Christmas and knew I couldn’t go to Florida to spend the holiday with my family and knew I couldn’t stay in New York City.  I was done.  And not just “oh I’m a little tired” done; I was “put a fork in me” done.  I needed to rejuvenate me – to take time for myself.  I had never taken the time to do either in my life.  It’s not how I’m wired.  I had just started going to Unity (a fabulous Spiritual Center) a month prior.  Rather quickly it became a haven for me.  I was allowed to go in weary and vulnerable, and I was okay with allowing those feelings because I always walked out with shoulders back, head held high and love enveloping me.  Instead of Florida, I chose St. George, Utah.

When I came back from Utah and attended the Unity service right before the new year, the senior minister handed out blank pieces of paper to everyone.  We were to date the top right – January 1, 2008.  This piece of paper was to be used to thank God for all we received during 2007.  What a delicious concept!  Thanking God for the joys and dreams achieved during a year that hadn’t even begun.  After meditation and breathing into my heart, I jotted down line after line of my thanks.  I couldn’t write fast enough.  My hand was not controlling the pen.  After I finished, I creased the paper in thirds and sealed it into an envelope addressed to myself.  Unity would be mailing my letter back to me at the end of 2007.

There are so many things I love about the holidays.  I love shopping for friends and loved ones.  I never ask them what they want.  BORING!  Instead, I watch and listen throughout the year and the perfect ideas present themselves.  I love the smells and sounds of the holidays – the pine, the roasted chestnuts, the crunching of snow, the scraping of ice from skate blades.  Oh… I can’t forget Grammy’s “Nuts & Bolts”.  It’s not really Christmas without them.  Then, there’s the music.  Now many might roll their eyes because holiday music seems to be starting earlier and earlier.  There are radio stations that begin playing holiday music on Thanksgiving Day and it’s 24/7 until December 26.  This can make the jolliest of elves cranky!  I happen to love it though and my two favorites are All I Want for Christmas Is You and My Grown Up Christmas List.

I think both songs resonate with me because the one thing that does stress me out during the holidays are when I’m asked what I do want or where is my Christmas list so others can buy for me.  I never have a list.  I never really “want” what traditionally would go on this list.

You all probably know the lyrics to All I want for Christmas Is You.

I don’t want a lot for Christmas
There’s just one thing I need
I don’t care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas is…
You

It gets right down to it.  This “you” is about love.  I want love – real love.  I want the kind of love in my life that defies a society.  It’s a feeling (thank you Terry) that awakes you from the core and reverberates through all of your limbs.  It confuses, excites, and warms you all at the same time.  It makes you dizzy.  It makes you unable to watch a movie because all you can do is look at the profile of the person next to you and fight back every urge to touch their face.  It makes you embarrass yourself intentionally.  It makes you not want to go one day and without expressing your feelings for this “you”.  Not everyone gets this, and many think this sort of want is left to teenagers who don’t know any better.  I’m here to tell you – this sort of love is real, lasting and it’s out there.

I don’t know how many people know the lyrics to My Grown Up Christmas List.

Grown-up Christmas list
Do you remember me?
I sat upon your knee;
I wrote to you
With childhood fantasies.

Well, I’m all grown-up now,
And still need help somehow
I’m not a child,
But my heart still can dream.

So here’s my lifelong wish,
My grown-up Christmas list.
Not for myself,
But for a world in need.

No more lives torn apart,
That wars would never start,(and wars would never start)
And time would heal all hearts.
And everyone would have a friend,
And right would always win,
And love would never end.
This is my grown-up Christmas list.

There are more words to both songs, but what I shared with you here gives a good indication of what I do want.  For a very long time, I wasn’t sure if I could ask for these kinds of wants.  I mean I can’t ask my mother or an aunt.  But was it okay for me to want these sorts of things for myself?  Who would listen?  More importantly, who would grant them?

Let me get back to the Unity letter I wrote at the end of 2006.  It arrived last week.  (Drum roll if you please.)  I was home alone that night.  It was suppose to be that way.  I wouldn’t have been able to open the letter in front of anyone.  I sat on my sofa in silence.  The quiet was soothing.  I held the envelope for a while – flipping it over and over again.  What if I opened the letter and found all of the things I thanked God for didn’t happen?  Would I have failed?  I shook these thoughts from my head.  They were old ways of thinking.  I ripped open the flap and pulled out my letter.  There it was.  It wasn’t written in paragraph form or what is considered a traditional letter at all.  It was a series of sentences all beginning with “Thank You God for…”

Each sentence made me smile more.  I hadn’t remembered consciously what I wrote, but my spirit had.  Here’s a few that stood out the most:

Thank you God for clarity, peace of mind and freedom.
Thank you God for the increased knowledge and power of my spirituality.
Thank you God for loving and believing in me.
Thank you God for my new friendships.
Thank you God for the new love in my life.

Everything I need I already have.  Everything I want can be mine.  All I want I have received.  I’ll continue to want and to dream and to know all I need to do is quiet my mind, listen to my heart and ask God.

The WHO You WERE

    One of my favorite children’s books is The Little Prince, by Antoine De Saint-Expéry, and my love for this book began with the dedication to Leon Werth, when he was a little boy.

“I ask children to forgive me for dedicating this book to a grown-up.  I have a serious excuse:  this grown-up is the best friend I have in the world.  I have another excuse:  this grown-up can understand everything, even books for children.  I have a third excuse:  he lives in France where he is hungry and cold.  He needs to be comforted.  If all these excuses are not enough, then I want to dedicate this book to the child whom this grown-up once was.

And here’s where my flesh raised and tears filled my eyes:

“ALL GROWN-UPS WERE CHILDREN FIRST.  (BUT FEW OF THEM REMEMBER IT.)”

As a writer, it’s my job to read books – a job I GLADLY take on.  They say you become a better writer by reading as much as possible and to focus on those books in your genre.  Considering I write for both adults and children, this means I read EVERYTHING.  I have to say that at this point, I’m a lot more impressed at what is being written and published for children much more than what comes out for adults.  Mostly, I focus on middle-grade to YA when I’m reading children’s novels.  These authors are writing smart for children.  Children aren’t an easy demographic to write for at all.  While they still believe in the magic, the magic has to make sense.  Whereas, adults don’t believe in the magic, but they’ll read formulaic drivel (aka brain candy).  It doesn’t matter if the novel makes sense or not, it’s like a Calgon bath – adults want to be taken away.

A couple of days ago, a young boy (about the age of 3 or 4), sat next to me on the C train going uptown.  He was with his mom and brother.  I, of course, fell in love instantly.  Can you blame me?  He had a blonde mop of curls and Caribbean blue eyes – that widened and absorbed everyone around him.

He no sooner sat next to me that his mom pulled out a small artist notebook and pack of crayons and handed them to him.  It took every ounce of my strength not to play with those curls and to not touch the apples of his cheeks.  He was deliberate in his choice of crayon, as he already knew exactly what he was going to draw.  He paused to consider more than once – complete with tongue poking out the side of his mouth.  Was I watching a three year-old, or a 20 year-old inhabiting the body of a three year-old?

He turned his body toward his mom so the notebook could be propped on his knee.  With this perfect drawing position, he ended up leaning into me.  This old soul drawing with precision and creative energy also had the innocence and purity of one not yet marred with cynicism.  He never looked back to see who I was.  His spirit knew he was safe.

I wonder if we as adults can remember what it were like to be three.  Can we close our eyes and channel the child we once were?  Would it be so horrible to trust someone first before testing his or her merit?  Would it be so horrible to see the good in people?

The little boy’s name is Aidan.  Aidan’s mom saw how much her son liked creating and she encourages him.  (Kudos to you, MOM!)  Aidan also has a keen interest in how things are spelled.  He must have asked his Mom how to spell about 12 words, and as she spelled them he wrote them out with the intensity of a surgeon with a scalpel.  Might I add that Mr. Aidan’s handwriting was perfect.  I’m not kidding.  I have grown adults working for me whose handwriting borders on Egyptian hieroglyphics.  When I complimented Aidan on his handwriting, he looked up at me and said, “Thanks.  I like words.”

Oh and I know those of you who know me are wondering if I bit him.  Believe me, I wanted to and I pretty much said so in my head and not to him directly because I didn’t want to scare him or his mom.

Here’s my challenge to those of you reading this blog.  Go back to old photos of you when you were a child.  Find the one special photo that encapsulates the energy and spirit of you.  Close your eyes and remember who you were then, what you felt, and what your dreams were.  Take your time, it’s not like I’ll have a stopwatch.  And when you’re ready, come up with a word or a phrase to describe the you, you were back then.  Write it down and carry it with you.  Look at the word(s) often and breathe them into your heart.

I leave you all with the last page of The Little Prince.

“IT’S ALL A GREAT MYSTERY.  For you, who love the little prince, too.  As for me, nothing in the universe can be the same if somewhere, no one knows where, a sheep we never saw has or has not eaten a rose…

Look up at the sky.  Ask yourself, “has the sheep eaten the flower or not?”  And you’ll see how everything changes…

And no grown-up will ever understand how such a thing could be so important!”

Fortune Cookies – “The Blunt Batch”

Last Friday, I took some folks who work for me out to lunch. We ended up eating delicious Dim Sum to the point of reaching “pigdom”. (Pigdom comes after “I couldn’t eat another bite”, “Okay, just one more helping”, and “Oh my God, I’m never eating again”.)

And even if we’ve reached pigdom, we still have fortune cookies to snap open. Who needs to eat the often stale cardboard texture chunks, we want to know what our future holds! After all, you have to select the fortune cookie facing you or you could end up with someone else’s fortune and then the Universe goes into disarray and it’s all your fault. But, as usual, I digress….

Here are the three “fortunes” we received, which are in no particular order:

* Today is a disastrous day. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

* It could be better, but it’s good enough.

And my favorite…..

* Perhaps you’ve been focusing too much on yourself.

Does the Remembering End?

When does the remembering end?  Is the cut off date in months, years or decades?  Is it that the remembering ends because the healing has begun?  Is it just easier to forget because the memories cause too much pain or have our lives become far too busy and remembering, or an assigned day to remember, isn’t convenient?  Do some feel that by remembering the past we aren’t allowing ourselves to propel forward?  For those who choose to remember, are we seen in a state of limbo – moving two steps back, or maybe sideways, but never following a road that leads to a future?  Does the remembering end when the physical is wrapped tight in green mesh so the horror of rubble and remnants of steel can’t easily be photographed?  If we can’t see it, we can’t remember it?  Is it only the visual which moves someone to take the time to pay their respects?  Isn’t it possible to be in the moment, without the fanfare, close your eyes and feel?  Can we listen to the sounds swirling around us – carried by a breeze so fresh our skin feels kissed by dew?

This year is different.  The vibe isn’t the same.  I don’t know if that’s bad or not.  Maybe the people who are suppose to be here are here.  Maybe what happens after years pass, are those who want to be here and need to be here are all that remain.  Maybe that’s okay.  Those of us who are drawn to continue to remember today don’t want to be judged anymore than those who choose to stay away.  We all have our own reasons.  We all have a choice.  I’m blessed to be living in a country where that’s okay.

Tonight, those of us left appear to be artists/creators.  I’ve met painters, sculptors, photographers, writers and musicians.  They all seem to see and appreciate the tragedy that occurred six years ago, and the healing of spirit that occurs now.  It’s sometimes disturbing to me what I find inspirational.  If we become inspired to create due to an event like 9/11 and the aftermath following, does it make us insensitive?  If six years later, we still feel the souls brushing past us and yet there’s a calm, does it mean that we have lost the meaning of the innocent lives lost?

I don’t smell the death anymore.  My stomach hasn’t been replaced by a boulder.  I don’t have to remember to breath when I’m down here.  However, my heart still feels weighted.  The lump in my throat bobs up and down, so trying to swallow it away does no good.

I know I’m grateful to feel what I cannot see.  I know I’m thankful for those I love who never forget me on this day.  I know I’m blessed to be down here to remember.

Divine Time

For most of my life, I felt responsible for the lives of just about everyone around me. Their stability, happiness, and success were daily items on my “To Do List”. I was the motivator, the cheerleader, the supporter, the fixer, the rescuer and boy were my shoulders tired. No one ever interviewed me for the job nor was I asked to volunteer – it just came to be. This was my part in my family’s dynamic and I never complained. Don’t we all have roles to fill when it comes to family? This job was rooted to my core, and, as such, I attracted friendships and intimate relationships where my skills were honed.

Thankfully, I’ve come to realize I am not responsible for the change in someone, nor am I responsible for their happiness. To say I feel lighter, is an understatement.

Almost two years ago, I became single again for the first time in ten years. It was such a weird mix of emotions and sensations – sadness, anger, frustration, self doubt (knots the size of boulders in my stomach, tenderness in my lower back, shoulders tighter than a taut rubber band) peacefulness, awareness, self love (warmth extending to every nerve ending, lightness in my steps, tingles in my stomach). And while I expected all of the above to happen, what I didn’t expect was to feel empty – a gaping hole of nothing.

It took me some time, but I figured out the gaping hole was not having someone in my life to be responsible for – to take care of and to put their needs first. My body craved the sensations of giving my entire self to another person. When all you know is cold, who thinks to ask for a blanket?

The Universe is funny. I think it likes to have laughs at the expense of us, but in fairness to the Universe, it’s all about teaching lessons. The Universe began to throw people in my life who were selfish and only knew “taking”. At first, I grabbed on tight to each person and quenched my body’s hunger. However, with each person I latched onto, it took me less and less time to realize I was being tested and I needed to walk away.

I find it interesting that with the time I have now to devote to my dreams – my creative journey, that I still find myself looking to fill my head and life with other’s dreams and paths. Time. I have time now. But with time comes a tremendous amount of responsibility – time management, meeting goals, filling space, seeing dreams come true. Time. It’s now to a point where I feel overwhelmed. There is so much I want to do, say, feel, participate in that I end up not being able to do any of it because my brain won’t slow down.

My challenge, now, is to look within for the answers and to trust in God and Spirit that everything I want is being paved for me. It’s a tough challenge for this gal who likes to be in charge and in control. However, as far as challenges go, I rather enjoy knowing God has a plan for me and we are co-creating together.

BREATHE… BREATHE… BREATHE…

Goodbye Winnie

Many of my fellow animal lovers know and understand how a pet can be more than just a pet. In fact, pets often feel they aren’t actual animals and justifiably sit on sofas, lay on bedroom pillows, and sneak food off of dining room tables. We often love them more and want them in our lives more than relatives.

Alex and I rescued Winnie nine years ago from a construction site in Brooklyn. She and her six siblings were living under a boiler with their mom. We were able to save Winnie right off because she had been injured and couldn’t run away. The vet determined she was about five months old.

I grew up with a collie, Princess, and when I had to put her to sleep at age 13, I didn’t think there would ever be another dog like her. Well, Winnie changed all of my thinking. She was gentle, loving, loyal, smart and protective. When she ran, you would swear you were watching a deer prance. She loved licking noses, as well as toes. We almost lost Winnie in 2004 when she was protecting our other dog, Nellie, from a group of dogs attacking her in a dog run. She jumped right in the middle and knocked Nellie to the ground. She stood over Nellie and took the brunt until all of the other dogs were removed.

Today Winnie had to be put to sleep. Something that started less than 48 hours ago revealed that most of her brain had been invaded by a tumor. Yet, her sweet demeanor never changed. She lost her vision on Monday evening and instead of allowing her to continue to suffer, Winnie was put to sleep.

When Alex and I split, we were still able to share custody of our pets. Although I wasn’t able to say goodbye and my feelings about that are best left to another sort of blog, I have amazing memories of a truly wonderful dog.

Peace, Love & Winnie,

~me

See Winnie Here

Conversations with the Nephew

Date: Friday, July 13, 2007
Location: Clearwater Beach
Activity: Boogie Boarding and Body Surfing (Like what else do you do at the beach when you’re 8?)

~Aunt Michele, watch out, that wave coming is DEFINITELY from Hawaii!
(When you live on the West Coast of Florida, any wave higher than the height of a bicycle and isn’t a result of a hurricane, is huge!)
Insert “girl sound” from Aunt Michele. She doesn’t actually remember making said sound, but read on….
~That wave was so awesome! But, Aunt Michele, you just sounded like a girl.
~Well, Ross, I am a girl.
~Nnnnnoooo you’re not. You’re a tomboy.

And you know… I really didn’t know what to do with that information and Ross really didn’t go into any more detail.

Date: Friday, July 13, 2007/Evening
Location: Grandma’s Den (my mom’s house)
Activity: Ross playing with his new Panda Webkins (oh and this is a HUGE deal).

Ross turns in the computer chair to face me, Grandma and his mom and to explain about the huge Hawaiian waves we battled.

~And then Aunt Michele made a sound like a girl.
~(My sister) Well your Aunt is a girl.
~Um, no. You and Grandma are girls. Aunt Michele is a tomboy.
~(My mom/Grandma) How come we are girls and she’s not?
~(He points his finger to his mom and Grandma while saying) Because you two are high maintenance.

I LOVE THE HELL OUT OF MY NEPHEW! He’s so bright!

Peace, Love & Out of the mouth of babes…