Wednesday, December 25, 2013

a day of grace

Christmas morning. Snow covers everything. Christmas lights hang from the curtain rod and the little metal tree drips with ornaments made of wood and white lights.

I read a Facebook post by someone I went to high school with. I also went to grade school with her, and I met her for lunch one day while I was still living in Texas. Her post today was very similar to our conversation a few years back. Today she wrote about her childhood Christmases and her Christmases as a young mother, and how deeply she missed those times. Our conversation a few years ago centered around how she missed her times in high school. (She works at that high school now and has for years.)

I can't even come close to wrapping my head around missing any part of high school and any previous Christmases. Apparently I don't look back. Maybe it's easy for me to burn bridges, leave things behind, and move on. I do so love a new adventure. I love basking in the feeling of new experiences. That to me is like opening presents Christmas morning. I can say that easily now even when it is Christmas morning, and I am house sitting for a friend in her home in a town where I've never lived. Just a couple of weeks ago I packed my things and moved again. I've been unpacking and re-deciding what stays with me on this new venture. I can easily sell and give away things I've made, clothes I've brought with me, and keepsakes... Well, I really don't have keepsakes.

I arrived in New York three years ago with two suitcases and a box. I have even less now. And, it feels good. There are no presents under a Christmas tree to unwrap, but there is an overflowing of gratitude and love for spending my day in this lovely home with my daughter and a beautiful loving being that looks just like a dog.

I want for nothing. My heart is full. I can feel where I'm headed, and I become overwhelmed with joy-filled tears. Nine years ago I took a drive to Snowmass, Colorado not knowing why. It was a trip that altered my life in every way. It was there that I discovered that it was necessary for me to get a divorce, sell my house that I had just built, and learn to fly. I thought I was supposed to get my pilot's license, but what I've learned instead was how to use my own wings and soar.

Nine years later I know I'm heading back to that area. This time I know why. This time I'm ready to be that person I need to be to grant my own wishes. I am that being, that lovely shade of light that beams across the night sky to the west, to the Continental Divide where it mingles with the light that's already there just waiting for my physical body to show up so that I can do the work that I came here to do. Finally my physicalness has caught up with my vibrational energy body. Finally. I've taken many twists and turns since that trip nine years ago. I've developed many relationships, experimented with how to be in this world, and stripped away many, many layers of masks that have accumulated through the decades.

I'm still not done. It's a life long task uncovering my authenticity, but with every layer of excavation I enjoy the process even more. I live in this world, but I don't adhere to its traditions. I make up my own because they feel good to me at that moment. So today I will be fixing pizza with my daughter. The dog already got his rope and bone, and later there will be movies while curled up on the couch snuggled under a blanket together. To me this is bliss. I am in a beautiful home and can feel the presence of my dear sweet friend in her crystals, rocks, plants and Grateful Dead posters. She is with us in spirit as we enjoy our Christmas moments.

My stomach is growling. I hear my daughter in the kitchen, and the dog is circling his bed. It's time to stop writing and get on with this glorious day of grace, beauty, and great love.

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