Years ago I was asked if place mattered, if a place could make you happy. Now, I don't believe anything outside myself is responsible for my happiness. I do know that certain people or situations can certainly broaden my smile, and other experiences can make a smile difficult to form. However, if I were not human ever, then I'd have to say place or anything else did not matter at all because I could be happy all the time no matter what.
I just happen to be human also. I have some very human moments, and just what a kick they happen to be.
What I've been discovering is just how unnecessary it is to get dramatic about how things look. For instance, Tammy and I no longer have phone service today. I smile anyway and want to see how clever the universe is in getting me the information I am to know today. God knows, the one thing the universe does not need to communicate with me is a phone. I'm waiting to hear from a future employer, but it won't be by phone now. I have some of my artwork at a new store, and the owner was going to call me today about selling them there. Well, it won't be by phone.
This has offered me another opportunity to be less available in the "normal" channels. I won't go into why the phone was disconnected because every human involved with the situation has a different story, and the stories don't matter. None of the stories matter. None.
So, back to a place making me happy... I moved to Taos only knowing Tammy. Why did I move here? Don't know that one completely, just know that it felt good. It still feels good. It feels right. I look back on who I was being in McKinney, Texas, and I not only don't recognize that person, but I truly don't like the memories I have of her.
I used to party a lot on the square. There was always drinking and eating going on there. That's what we did. At the end of the day it was always about where we were going to go that night and who we were going to drink with. That's how I remember it. I haven't had a sip of any alcohol whatsoever since my birthday party in late September. I didn't drink much in Steamboat Springs, Colorado where I lived before arriving in McKinney. As a matter of fact, I don't think I drank like that since I had been in college.
Steamboat and Taos have both been very spiritual places for me. Taos even more so. The level of art is escalated here. I feel that goes hand in hand, at least it does for me. My art is a form of spirituality for me. It takes me to a place I can't go to in any other way. What's interesting though is that I moved out here with no art/sewing supplies whatsoever. I keep stripping down my material life. It's fascinating because I'm learning how to live life totally differently. I thought I was going to come out here and do energy work and not be an artist when what I have done is use my energy in my latest art creations. My energy here is so profound that it knocks me off my feet sometimes. The energy in Taos is palpable. I feel the shift in my own energy since moving here. I'm discovering that this is the case with most people. What takes people years to transform in other places occurs here within days. That's how it's been for me.
Does Taos make me happy? I make me happy. Taos resonates with my energy though. Taos and I are one sometimes. I don't need to do energy work here. I am an energy billboard here. No matter what I do or say or have or be, I am all that's necessary right here, right now. I have it all within. I've never felt this way until moving here. It's a complete package of peace and tranquility wrapped up so nicely.
When I explain to people here how I've been feeling, they nod their heads. They tell me welcome home. They embrace me. This is something I've not experienced before. I used to be very careful with what I said because I was tired of the strange looks or the constant questions. Here, I hardly even finish a statement when the person I'm speaking with agrees with me. Sometimes I can't finish a sentence because it's just not necessary. Words aren't always essential here. It's the unspoken understanding, the smile, a gentle hand on the shoulder, that makes me realize that this is the only place I can be right now for the growth that I've gone through, the relationships I've developed, and the peace I've embodied. With everything stripped away, I can only see the trust I have in the Universe. I am totally taken care of with or without a phone. Phoneless, I must put myself out there to talk to those I need to face to face. What a concept! I have to look in their eyes while giving and getting information. I make connections with them that I couldn't possibly do on a phone or through emails.
My life here has centered around human contact while totally sober. I've learned to adjust my body to the different energy here. I feel things so much stronger. I feel people who aren't even here physically. And in Taos, those feelings are normal. I don't have to explain myself here. I am where I belong right now. I have the prospect of having a future boss that is phenomenal in the loving people department. I have the ability to go to work and not have a single thing matter as much as radiating compassion and understanding to every single person I encounter. This is what I'm here for right now. This is all that matters at this moment. To love no matter what. It's really easy to love when I'm being loved, and now I'm doing it when the" being loved" is disguised as something else.
So today begins another new way of showing up in this fantasy called life. I've adapted to not having a car, and now I'll do it with a phone that acts as a timepiece. I am grateful. I am just so grateful to see how beautifully the magic will unfold today.
And, yes, place does matter.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
Coffee Moments
Just realise you are dreaming a dream you call the world and stop looking for ways out. The dream is not your problem. Your problem is that you like one part of your dream and not another. Love all or none of it, and stop complaining. When you have seen the dream as a dream, you have done all that needs to be done.~Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj
This is a quote that I got on Facebook today from Rainbow Treehouse. It applies to me more than I thought it could. You see, yesterday I chose to skip out for a bit on this dream. I had donated blood at the hospital. While relaxing in a chair and drinking some fruitlike drink, people were asking me how I was doing. I answered or I didn’t. I just wanted them to leave me alone. Then suddenly my perspective came from the ceiling. I saw the tops of their heads as they were busily talking amongst themselves. I didn’t hear the words, but I saw frantic movements – heads shaking, fingers pointing, and apparently voices raised because men in white coats took me to a reclining chair and packed my neck in ice. As soon as that ice connected with my skin, I was no longer at the ceiling.
I laid in the recliner looking at the mountains outside the windows and cried because I didn’t want to come back. The feeling I had had at the ceiling was one of immense calmness. Nothing mattered. Absolutely nothing. It didn’t matter that there was no money in my pockets. It didn’t matter that I didn’t have a car, and it really didn’t matter that my phone was going to be shut off shortly. None of it mattered. I had been in total peace, and I didn’t want to come back.
So, after being packed in ice for awhile, we gave it another go. I went back to the chair with some more juice. This time as soon as I sat down I remember putting my head back. I heard the man next to me complaining about people at a coffee shop, and then up I went again. It was just so lovely above it all. The voices stopped. I saw people moving, but I heard nothing. It was tranquility at its finest, and this time I meant to stay, at least until those white coats came back to haul me to the recliner again and pack me with twice as much ice. This time one of them stayed with me and kept talking. He kept getting after me every time I closed my eyes. I just wanted him to shut up and let me sleep, but he wasn’t having anything to do with that.
Needless to say, I didn’t get to go back to ceiling surfing. I finally got out of the hospital and back home. And today I read that quote from Rainbow Treehouse. Love it all, huh?
I’m finding the loving it all part a little difficult right now because I’m feeling indifferent. Tammy’s been getting tired of hearing the “I don’t cares”, but that’s how I’m feeling. She’s been on a rampage about our circumstances today. Me? I’m walking and smiling. There’s nothing I can do. I showed up at the hospital today to get more of my paperwork going for the job I applied for, but nothing could be done today due to their protocol. Okay, so not today. Next…
So, I went to my job where I sit in a store that sells artwork, mine included. Not a customer came in. Okay. Next…
When someone else came in to relieve me, I walked down the street to a yarn shop where they dye their own fibers. When I crossed the threshold, I just stood there looking at all the yarns hanging on the walls, the hats hand-dyed and felted, the baskets of roving, the knitted scarves, the shelves of books, and I cried. I held my breath as tears fell down my cheeks. I was in heaven. My heart opened wide and I just looked from the wool dolls to the felted jackets. Sweet baby jesus, I was home. I couldn’t move. I was in awe. I put my hand to my chest and just looked at the rows and rows of hand-dyed yarns.
The person working there said, “Wow, we love it when someone comes in who appreciates this so much.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off every single fiber in that place. She showed me felted purses and told me that everything in there was handmade, and the yarns were all hand-dyed in New Mexico. I knew I didn’t want to leave, but others started piling in, so I walked next door to an artist’s gallery and ended up making a new friend with the woman running the show there.
A few doors down is one of the coolest stores in town called Moxie. It’s owned by another new friend of mine, Katie. She wants to sell some of my artwork, so I promised I’d get it to her tomorrow morning.
This town is the most artistic, loving, accepting place I’ve ever known. I’m learning rather quickly that all my previous beliefs have been bullshit. I’ve stripped myself of absolutely everything materialistically, and I’m learning a new way of living. It’s much freer. It’s definitely scarier, and I’m learning to trust that I’m okay, over and over again. This is by far the hardest thing I’ve done so far – to be that peace I felt while ceiling surfing no matter what shows up in my life.
And one of the nicest, if not the best, occurrences in my life has been reconnecting with someone I met forty years ago. Our conversations go with me throughout my day. I carry his words with me as I sit in the store or walk down the street. I remember the sound of his voice, and no matter what’s going on at the time, I can smile easily.
I told him last night that all I wanted to do was lay down with him outside and let the sun heat up our faces, and at night be able to see the stars and the moon and be silent while wrapped up in each other. I want life to be as simple as that. My new friend at the art gallery called it “coffee moments” when nothing but a good sip of joe would be the most pressing thing of the day.
My coffee moments. I like that. I’ve spent my life creating urgencies as if every decision I made was life or death. I’ve run offices, done taxes, hired and fired employees, and now I want coffee moments all day long. I want to take a break from heaviness, and lay down in the grass with Dan and feel the sun on my face, feel his fingers on my spine, and as the day turns into night, gaze up at the stars together in silence. I want to feel the cool breeze ripple our hair, and in silence speak the greatest language of all – peace. Now those are my kind of coffee moments.
This is a quote that I got on Facebook today from Rainbow Treehouse. It applies to me more than I thought it could. You see, yesterday I chose to skip out for a bit on this dream. I had donated blood at the hospital. While relaxing in a chair and drinking some fruitlike drink, people were asking me how I was doing. I answered or I didn’t. I just wanted them to leave me alone. Then suddenly my perspective came from the ceiling. I saw the tops of their heads as they were busily talking amongst themselves. I didn’t hear the words, but I saw frantic movements – heads shaking, fingers pointing, and apparently voices raised because men in white coats took me to a reclining chair and packed my neck in ice. As soon as that ice connected with my skin, I was no longer at the ceiling.
I laid in the recliner looking at the mountains outside the windows and cried because I didn’t want to come back. The feeling I had had at the ceiling was one of immense calmness. Nothing mattered. Absolutely nothing. It didn’t matter that there was no money in my pockets. It didn’t matter that I didn’t have a car, and it really didn’t matter that my phone was going to be shut off shortly. None of it mattered. I had been in total peace, and I didn’t want to come back.
So, after being packed in ice for awhile, we gave it another go. I went back to the chair with some more juice. This time as soon as I sat down I remember putting my head back. I heard the man next to me complaining about people at a coffee shop, and then up I went again. It was just so lovely above it all. The voices stopped. I saw people moving, but I heard nothing. It was tranquility at its finest, and this time I meant to stay, at least until those white coats came back to haul me to the recliner again and pack me with twice as much ice. This time one of them stayed with me and kept talking. He kept getting after me every time I closed my eyes. I just wanted him to shut up and let me sleep, but he wasn’t having anything to do with that.
Needless to say, I didn’t get to go back to ceiling surfing. I finally got out of the hospital and back home. And today I read that quote from Rainbow Treehouse. Love it all, huh?
I’m finding the loving it all part a little difficult right now because I’m feeling indifferent. Tammy’s been getting tired of hearing the “I don’t cares”, but that’s how I’m feeling. She’s been on a rampage about our circumstances today. Me? I’m walking and smiling. There’s nothing I can do. I showed up at the hospital today to get more of my paperwork going for the job I applied for, but nothing could be done today due to their protocol. Okay, so not today. Next…
So, I went to my job where I sit in a store that sells artwork, mine included. Not a customer came in. Okay. Next…
When someone else came in to relieve me, I walked down the street to a yarn shop where they dye their own fibers. When I crossed the threshold, I just stood there looking at all the yarns hanging on the walls, the hats hand-dyed and felted, the baskets of roving, the knitted scarves, the shelves of books, and I cried. I held my breath as tears fell down my cheeks. I was in heaven. My heart opened wide and I just looked from the wool dolls to the felted jackets. Sweet baby jesus, I was home. I couldn’t move. I was in awe. I put my hand to my chest and just looked at the rows and rows of hand-dyed yarns.
The person working there said, “Wow, we love it when someone comes in who appreciates this so much.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off every single fiber in that place. She showed me felted purses and told me that everything in there was handmade, and the yarns were all hand-dyed in New Mexico. I knew I didn’t want to leave, but others started piling in, so I walked next door to an artist’s gallery and ended up making a new friend with the woman running the show there.
A few doors down is one of the coolest stores in town called Moxie. It’s owned by another new friend of mine, Katie. She wants to sell some of my artwork, so I promised I’d get it to her tomorrow morning.
This town is the most artistic, loving, accepting place I’ve ever known. I’m learning rather quickly that all my previous beliefs have been bullshit. I’ve stripped myself of absolutely everything materialistically, and I’m learning a new way of living. It’s much freer. It’s definitely scarier, and I’m learning to trust that I’m okay, over and over again. This is by far the hardest thing I’ve done so far – to be that peace I felt while ceiling surfing no matter what shows up in my life.
And one of the nicest, if not the best, occurrences in my life has been reconnecting with someone I met forty years ago. Our conversations go with me throughout my day. I carry his words with me as I sit in the store or walk down the street. I remember the sound of his voice, and no matter what’s going on at the time, I can smile easily.
I told him last night that all I wanted to do was lay down with him outside and let the sun heat up our faces, and at night be able to see the stars and the moon and be silent while wrapped up in each other. I want life to be as simple as that. My new friend at the art gallery called it “coffee moments” when nothing but a good sip of joe would be the most pressing thing of the day.
My coffee moments. I like that. I’ve spent my life creating urgencies as if every decision I made was life or death. I’ve run offices, done taxes, hired and fired employees, and now I want coffee moments all day long. I want to take a break from heaviness, and lay down in the grass with Dan and feel the sun on my face, feel his fingers on my spine, and as the day turns into night, gaze up at the stars together in silence. I want to feel the cool breeze ripple our hair, and in silence speak the greatest language of all – peace. Now those are my kind of coffee moments.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
baby steps
When I got up this morning, the sun shone through the windows, the coffee was already brewed and waiting for me. I felt brand new, whole, complete, and ready to flow through the day. I sat down with my coffee and laptop, turning to Facebook, and there was a picture my daughter posted of her pets. And then I cried like a baby.
I am who I am. I am a sucker for those two animals. I remember what it was like to wake up with dog tail slapped across my face or a kitty paw on my nose. The dog, Moo, has been with me through some pretty tough times. He was with me when I left a 32-year relationship. It was his barking behind the front door of the house that made me cry as I drove down the driveway away from him. My heart breaks open right now just remembering his scratching on the window as I got into my car. He begged to go with me. I had to hold him back as I shut the front door to the house. It was a long drive to Steamboat, and I cried the whole way.
I am an opened book. I have no poker face. And, I love so easily. I fall in love over and over and over. Those two little faces make my arms yearn to hold them. Heck, I'd even take an unexpected pounce in my lap right now. But, I chose to leave again. After spending almost two years with my daughter, I chose to move to New Mexico. I make decisions very quickly and without any hesitation or plans. I just do it, so in September I picked up and moved with Tammy, and if it weren't for the drama of an ex, I probably would've been crying across the state line that time too.
The way I choose to live my life has not been easy. It hasn't been easy for my family or for me, but it's what I know I have to do. I have no explanations. I just know that it's right for me to be where I am right now as much as I miss my daughter, her pets, and McKinney, I am meant to be here.
Not for one moment do I disregard what my time on the square in McKinney was like for me. I cherish my memories and the friends I made there. I think of them often, and I know that where I am now is perfect.
And where am I? Well, every moment that's a new experience... My former lives seemed to provide stability for me. Marriage had this cloak of permanence and belonging that masked the smothering I felt. I could sleep through my days in the sense that I was not awakened to what it was I really wanted. I was in survival mode, and since being single, I've been learning how to walk.
I'm brand new. I lived all my life until 9/11/06 according to what others wanted. I chose that. I chose to spend my time pleasing others and ignoring me. I did that all by myself. And now, after four years on my own, I'm taking baby steps to discover how to walk unattended. And sometimes that includes tears. Oh well... so fucking what... I am who I am, for better or worse. Here I am, like me or not. I am right here, right now, taking teeny steps forward because tears are blurring my vision.
I am who I am. I am a sucker for those two animals. I remember what it was like to wake up with dog tail slapped across my face or a kitty paw on my nose. The dog, Moo, has been with me through some pretty tough times. He was with me when I left a 32-year relationship. It was his barking behind the front door of the house that made me cry as I drove down the driveway away from him. My heart breaks open right now just remembering his scratching on the window as I got into my car. He begged to go with me. I had to hold him back as I shut the front door to the house. It was a long drive to Steamboat, and I cried the whole way.
I am an opened book. I have no poker face. And, I love so easily. I fall in love over and over and over. Those two little faces make my arms yearn to hold them. Heck, I'd even take an unexpected pounce in my lap right now. But, I chose to leave again. After spending almost two years with my daughter, I chose to move to New Mexico. I make decisions very quickly and without any hesitation or plans. I just do it, so in September I picked up and moved with Tammy, and if it weren't for the drama of an ex, I probably would've been crying across the state line that time too.
The way I choose to live my life has not been easy. It hasn't been easy for my family or for me, but it's what I know I have to do. I have no explanations. I just know that it's right for me to be where I am right now as much as I miss my daughter, her pets, and McKinney, I am meant to be here.
Not for one moment do I disregard what my time on the square in McKinney was like for me. I cherish my memories and the friends I made there. I think of them often, and I know that where I am now is perfect.
And where am I? Well, every moment that's a new experience... My former lives seemed to provide stability for me. Marriage had this cloak of permanence and belonging that masked the smothering I felt. I could sleep through my days in the sense that I was not awakened to what it was I really wanted. I was in survival mode, and since being single, I've been learning how to walk.
I'm brand new. I lived all my life until 9/11/06 according to what others wanted. I chose that. I chose to spend my time pleasing others and ignoring me. I did that all by myself. And now, after four years on my own, I'm taking baby steps to discover how to walk unattended. And sometimes that includes tears. Oh well... so fucking what... I am who I am, for better or worse. Here I am, like me or not. I am right here, right now, taking teeny steps forward because tears are blurring my vision.
the ride of a lifetime
Today has been another day of surrender, a letting go so deeply that I no longer care about the outcome of anything. I have been foolish to think that I could determine the results of anything. This train ride Tammy and I are on has proven to us time and time again that we may have specific intentions, wants, and desires, but God help us if we think for one second that we can determine what any of it is going to look like.
We have been through so much since moving to Taos especially. Last week was truly the toughest I thought I'd been through. We thought this week was going to be a smoother ride after all the purging we'd been through. And then there were the phone calls. First mine on Sunday that brought up so much crazy crap that I thought for sure I'd worked through. Great, Jill. Just great... stop your bloody thinking!
And the real life-altering, heart-stopping phone call came yesterday with the news that Tammy's son, Taylor, had been in a serious car accident. His car blew three tires and he went airborne. Three airbags deployed and he lost consciousness until the ambulance ride.
The day before that Tammy's car decided to take a much-needed rest and refused to work, as did Taylor's brother's car. Someone we had just met before moving to Taos drove us 2 1/2 hours away to the hospital, stopping an hour away from us to pick up the brother. We arrived safely. The ride materialized easily, and Tammy got to see her son and talk with the doctors. He's got two compression fractures in his lumbar spine. Fragments of the vertebrae are not threatening anything, and so he'll be in a brace for three months.
When we discovered what had happened, Tammy and I both just cried. This young man is going to be okay, and according to the insurance claims person if Taylor had been 20 feet in either direction of where his tires blew, he would have never needed to be fitted for a brace today. He wouldn't have been taken to the emergency room. We would be putting together funeral arrangements now.
Tammy and I have been stripped of everything materialistically. Everything's gone but our clothes. And yet... And yet, we are by far the richest we've ever been. We live in a beautiful house, gorgeous surroundings, and have created the most loving relationships of our lives here.
We don't own anything yet we eat healthy meals. We sleep on comfortable beds. We write in a beautiful home. The ability to shift easily, to bend and flow without hesitation has become a way of life for us here. We're discovering that absolutely nothing can be done in this lifetime right now, right here, the way we used to do anything.
In our very bleakest moments when there seems to be no fix, miracles appear. Tammy went to talk with the owner of the local paper about doing some bartering and ended up with paid writing assignments. I was led to talk to a health care facility down the road here just to tell them what my experiences have been, and yesterday I interviewed for the only position they're needing to be filled.
Neither of these positions were advertised, or in Tammy's case even "invented" yet, and they materialized just when we showed up. There's something so magical about just letting go of everything. I mean truly not caring how anything we desire comes into fruition. In that act of surrendering when we're not even thinking about what it is we want or feeling bummed about what we think we don't have, the experiences unfold as magnificent gifts. We are truly blown away by how our lives have taken shape here. We are so very grateful for every single moment of the ride because it is in this ride, this crazy roller coaster that we've been on, that the deepest and most profound joy surfaces.
And with that being said, I want to express my deepest gratitude to Tammy. She keeps holding my hand as we continually leap. I can't think of anyone I'd rather have taking these steps with me.
We have been through so much since moving to Taos especially. Last week was truly the toughest I thought I'd been through. We thought this week was going to be a smoother ride after all the purging we'd been through. And then there were the phone calls. First mine on Sunday that brought up so much crazy crap that I thought for sure I'd worked through. Great, Jill. Just great... stop your bloody thinking!
And the real life-altering, heart-stopping phone call came yesterday with the news that Tammy's son, Taylor, had been in a serious car accident. His car blew three tires and he went airborne. Three airbags deployed and he lost consciousness until the ambulance ride.
The day before that Tammy's car decided to take a much-needed rest and refused to work, as did Taylor's brother's car. Someone we had just met before moving to Taos drove us 2 1/2 hours away to the hospital, stopping an hour away from us to pick up the brother. We arrived safely. The ride materialized easily, and Tammy got to see her son and talk with the doctors. He's got two compression fractures in his lumbar spine. Fragments of the vertebrae are not threatening anything, and so he'll be in a brace for three months.
When we discovered what had happened, Tammy and I both just cried. This young man is going to be okay, and according to the insurance claims person if Taylor had been 20 feet in either direction of where his tires blew, he would have never needed to be fitted for a brace today. He wouldn't have been taken to the emergency room. We would be putting together funeral arrangements now.
Tammy and I have been stripped of everything materialistically. Everything's gone but our clothes. And yet... And yet, we are by far the richest we've ever been. We live in a beautiful house, gorgeous surroundings, and have created the most loving relationships of our lives here.
We don't own anything yet we eat healthy meals. We sleep on comfortable beds. We write in a beautiful home. The ability to shift easily, to bend and flow without hesitation has become a way of life for us here. We're discovering that absolutely nothing can be done in this lifetime right now, right here, the way we used to do anything.
In our very bleakest moments when there seems to be no fix, miracles appear. Tammy went to talk with the owner of the local paper about doing some bartering and ended up with paid writing assignments. I was led to talk to a health care facility down the road here just to tell them what my experiences have been, and yesterday I interviewed for the only position they're needing to be filled.
Neither of these positions were advertised, or in Tammy's case even "invented" yet, and they materialized just when we showed up. There's something so magical about just letting go of everything. I mean truly not caring how anything we desire comes into fruition. In that act of surrendering when we're not even thinking about what it is we want or feeling bummed about what we think we don't have, the experiences unfold as magnificent gifts. We are truly blown away by how our lives have taken shape here. We are so very grateful for every single moment of the ride because it is in this ride, this crazy roller coaster that we've been on, that the deepest and most profound joy surfaces.
And with that being said, I want to express my deepest gratitude to Tammy. She keeps holding my hand as we continually leap. I can't think of anyone I'd rather have taking these steps with me.
Monday, November 1, 2010
just the beginning
I have never felt so out of control in my life. I mean this in a really great way. I think...
I moved here to Taos last Tuesday. I moved in with a man I hadn't ever met before. We're doing a house share. It's a beautiful home -- three bedrooms, two baths, sunroom, adobe home with guest house. It sits in the midst of health care facilities of all kinds. Natural landscaping on the three acres with foothills in the back yard... How amazing that is to me that it's so surrounded by what could be considered such high volume traffic areas, and also nestled into nature. There's a panoramic view of the mountains. Over the weekend I was able to sit at the dining room table and watch the balloon festival from several windows.
Last week was this really cleansing week where I expunged long-held beliefs and emotions and god only knows what else. And today is All Soul's Day. Today my soul gets a day dedicated to itself. And today my soul is really letting me know who's in charge, and it just ain't me. Today is a whole new life. Today is just new, and so full of more than I could ever imagine that I just need to stop imagining what I think it could be.
Here's what I know for sure. So far. Tammy got a job writing health articles for the local paper this morning. She thought she was going in to do some bartering work and ends up with a paid position.
I'm going in for an interview this afternoon with a business that's within walking distance of my house. It'll be a full-time position, and I still have time to work with Tammy on our raw foods business. I also have my artwork in three different stores in town, and payday is today. Yay!
Today is the last day of the first week we've lived here. I've never been through so much in such a short time in my life. Emotionally I've been put through the wringer. However, who I am today is so much more than the person who first arrived in Taos last week. And for that I'm grateful.
Tammy has been a wonderful example to me of someone who is at ease with letting go and knowing she's okay no matter what. I see now why last week was so tough on me. I was clinging so tightly. I wanted things and people to look and act a certain way, and none of it went according to my plans. And then I got to experience what it felt like to let go of all those crazy notions. I know I'm perfectly fine just where I am. No one or no thing has to be a certain way for me to be okay. I am perfectly positioned in my life right now with everything I need, everything I could ever desire. It's all right here, right now. It's beautiful. This is paradise, knowing that no matter what shows up, no matter what it may look like, I am in the right place at the right time.
Tammy, I raise my mug of water to you this morning. Thanks for being on this trip with me. Thanks for letting me see what such an open heart full of love looks like. You are an inspiration to me, and this is just the beginning.
I moved here to Taos last Tuesday. I moved in with a man I hadn't ever met before. We're doing a house share. It's a beautiful home -- three bedrooms, two baths, sunroom, adobe home with guest house. It sits in the midst of health care facilities of all kinds. Natural landscaping on the three acres with foothills in the back yard... How amazing that is to me that it's so surrounded by what could be considered such high volume traffic areas, and also nestled into nature. There's a panoramic view of the mountains. Over the weekend I was able to sit at the dining room table and watch the balloon festival from several windows.
Last week was this really cleansing week where I expunged long-held beliefs and emotions and god only knows what else. And today is All Soul's Day. Today my soul gets a day dedicated to itself. And today my soul is really letting me know who's in charge, and it just ain't me. Today is a whole new life. Today is just new, and so full of more than I could ever imagine that I just need to stop imagining what I think it could be.
Here's what I know for sure. So far. Tammy got a job writing health articles for the local paper this morning. She thought she was going in to do some bartering work and ends up with a paid position.
I'm going in for an interview this afternoon with a business that's within walking distance of my house. It'll be a full-time position, and I still have time to work with Tammy on our raw foods business. I also have my artwork in three different stores in town, and payday is today. Yay!
Today is the last day of the first week we've lived here. I've never been through so much in such a short time in my life. Emotionally I've been put through the wringer. However, who I am today is so much more than the person who first arrived in Taos last week. And for that I'm grateful.
Tammy has been a wonderful example to me of someone who is at ease with letting go and knowing she's okay no matter what. I see now why last week was so tough on me. I was clinging so tightly. I wanted things and people to look and act a certain way, and none of it went according to my plans. And then I got to experience what it felt like to let go of all those crazy notions. I know I'm perfectly fine just where I am. No one or no thing has to be a certain way for me to be okay. I am perfectly positioned in my life right now with everything I need, everything I could ever desire. It's all right here, right now. It's beautiful. This is paradise, knowing that no matter what shows up, no matter what it may look like, I am in the right place at the right time.
Tammy, I raise my mug of water to you this morning. Thanks for being on this trip with me. Thanks for letting me see what such an open heart full of love looks like. You are an inspiration to me, and this is just the beginning.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
almost ready
Tammy and I have just completed our first week in Taos even though we didn't move here until last Tuesday, we've been here longer. I have one thing to say about it. Oh sweet baby jesus, it was the hardest week of my life. Everything it seemed that could come up for me did. When I saw Tammy last night I told her I was ready to press the escape button. I was done with being here on planet earth. I'm not sure if I've ever felt that way before. Shit from lifetimes surfaced and reared their ugly heads before releasing, and then the next thing would come up, and the next thing. Ooooohhh, I was so ready to check out completely. I was so ready to be done with this thing called life on planet earth. I couldn't even escape it by closing my eyes and going to sleep because my dreams were vivid visions filled with movies of my lives and information coming through.
Enough! I told Tammy last night that I just couldn't take it anymore. I wanted the visions to stop. I wanted all the information to come to a halt. I just wanted to lay my head on the pillow and close my eyes and have nothing flash before me. I wanted peace. I just wanted peace.
Today was a brand new day. I lived in peace today. I laughed easily today. Tammy and I talked about all the stuff that came up for me this past week, stuff I truly thought was long gone. Ha! Then I played a great trick on myself. I dated a chiropractor!! Smart move. Really smart move. Shit loads from my former chiropractor husband vommitted up. Oh man, did I work through some barrels of garbage from that relationship. And that was just one thing that came up for me last week.
Tammy told me that this week the great stuff will be coming through because we released the crap that doesn't work for us anymore. We've made room for the cool stuff now. Please, God, let her be right. I am so ready for a reprieve.
I've had several people tell me that the mountain in Taos will do one of two things to you. It will either embrace you or spit you out. Well, I think in my first week here I got embraced really tightly and maybe a little abrasively too, but I certainly don't feel like I've been spit out. I'm discovering the power of healing here. I live in one of the most amazing vortexes I've ever experienced. I know there will be more releasing, more vommitting up old crap, and plenty of experiences that will make me want to phone the mothership for quick pick up. However, if I'm not going to cleanse myself here and now, just when will I do it?
I made the intention of living my life in true authenticity. The universe is honoring that, and today I appreciate it. I've had fascinating experiences today that have helped me clarify what I want in my life even more, and I'm grateful. My chiropractor friend told me he wanted to do some "work" on himself and cool things between us. Aaaahhhhh... the relief that flooded me was palpable. I do not have the energy or the time right now to devote to a relationship with a man. I so want to focus on me and how best I can serve this community right now. I'm brand new today. I'm not grown up enough yet to be in a relationship with a lover. I want my freedom to go where I want without having to check with someone else. I want some more time on my own. I want to feel more sure-footed in my new skin. I've been through so much this past week that getting out of bed today was outstanding.
I want to try myself on for awhile. I want to walk around a bit in my new feet. I just want to smell the air with my new nose. I just want to be for awhile, and when that special someone shows up, then I'll be ready. I'm just not ready yet.
Enough! I told Tammy last night that I just couldn't take it anymore. I wanted the visions to stop. I wanted all the information to come to a halt. I just wanted to lay my head on the pillow and close my eyes and have nothing flash before me. I wanted peace. I just wanted peace.
Today was a brand new day. I lived in peace today. I laughed easily today. Tammy and I talked about all the stuff that came up for me this past week, stuff I truly thought was long gone. Ha! Then I played a great trick on myself. I dated a chiropractor!! Smart move. Really smart move. Shit loads from my former chiropractor husband vommitted up. Oh man, did I work through some barrels of garbage from that relationship. And that was just one thing that came up for me last week.
Tammy told me that this week the great stuff will be coming through because we released the crap that doesn't work for us anymore. We've made room for the cool stuff now. Please, God, let her be right. I am so ready for a reprieve.
I've had several people tell me that the mountain in Taos will do one of two things to you. It will either embrace you or spit you out. Well, I think in my first week here I got embraced really tightly and maybe a little abrasively too, but I certainly don't feel like I've been spit out. I'm discovering the power of healing here. I live in one of the most amazing vortexes I've ever experienced. I know there will be more releasing, more vommitting up old crap, and plenty of experiences that will make me want to phone the mothership for quick pick up. However, if I'm not going to cleanse myself here and now, just when will I do it?
I made the intention of living my life in true authenticity. The universe is honoring that, and today I appreciate it. I've had fascinating experiences today that have helped me clarify what I want in my life even more, and I'm grateful. My chiropractor friend told me he wanted to do some "work" on himself and cool things between us. Aaaahhhhh... the relief that flooded me was palpable. I do not have the energy or the time right now to devote to a relationship with a man. I so want to focus on me and how best I can serve this community right now. I'm brand new today. I'm not grown up enough yet to be in a relationship with a lover. I want my freedom to go where I want without having to check with someone else. I want some more time on my own. I want to feel more sure-footed in my new skin. I've been through so much this past week that getting out of bed today was outstanding.
I want to try myself on for awhile. I want to walk around a bit in my new feet. I just want to smell the air with my new nose. I just want to be for awhile, and when that special someone shows up, then I'll be ready. I'm just not ready yet.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
show up and shut up
This morning I had just sat down at the dining room table with my hot coffee and watched the balloons rise over the houses. I was minding my own business, enjoying a nice quiet morning to myself when all of a sudden I couldn't sit still any longer. There's a birthing center down the road from me, and I felt the need to get up immediately and talk to someone there about my past job experiences of running health care facilities.
So, without finishing my coffee, brushing my teeth or washing my face, I hoof it over to them, walk in, and spill my story. Now, I have to hand it to the three women who came out to the front desk to hear me. They didn't flinch when the woman sitting down looked up at me and said, "So are you wanting to be a receptionist?"
Without hesitation, I said of course. Now in all honesty, that was the furthest thing from my mind until that moment. She told me that she had taken another position and was not able to fill hers there at the center so she was going to be leaving them without someone at the front desk. She wanted to know how soon I would be able to start.
Let's get this straight. I moved to Taos on Tuesday because why? Well, because it felt right. I found a house to move into, and it just happens to be within walking distance of this business. The man I was dating while living in Santa Fe has close ties to the house I now live in and the birthing center. He also lives right down the street.
Upon coming to Taos I realized that everything I had ever asked for, desired, contemplated on, and wished for was swirled around in a pot of what? It felt as if everything I had ever wanted was a big conglomeration of whatever just showed up. This feeling released me from anything needing to be a certain way. I did not feel it necessary to show up as an energy therapist, as a girlfriend of this chiropractor's, or as a business associate of Tammy's. I just felt the need to show up and shut up, to be totally open to however anything unfolded. I see now how I could have never guessed any of this. I see now how something so much bigger than I could ever imagine is playing out, and any judgments I could possibly have on anything or anyone is so far out in left field that it's not even worth imagining. Nothing in my past is helpful at this point. I have no references for how to live like this. Everything is a possibility. Anyone could be in my life at this point. All labels must be thrown away. Everything begins anew right now.
While working on packaging Tammy's chocolate truffles in the kitchen, we both felt a presence. Then we felt a whole lot of presences. The house was full. The chills were running through both of us, and it felt very crowded all of a sudden. The information that was relayed was just wild, and while listening I was playing a movie in my head of everything I've ever gone through in my life that had led to this moment. I was flabbergasted at how every single thing, every word spoken, every person in my life played such a significant role to get me right here right now.
I am blown away by all of it. The significance I've placed on anything in my life seems so trivial and crazy right now. I think of the... oh, it just doesn't matter. None of it matters.
I am here right now, and it seems it's a place I've been waiting for all my life. I'm meeting people who've just arrived as I have, and it feels as if I've known them forever. I'm meeting soul sisters by the handfuls. We all have similar stories, lived in the same places, and are here together now.
There is something deep within that knows what's going on. There is a peaceful feeling to all of this. I know. I just know. I am here for something so much bigger than I could've even thought possible. So, I just do what I'm inclined to do. The nudgings aren't really nudgings anymore as much as they are shovings -- kicking my ass out the door. There's no second guessing, just a quiet knowing what to do next, and every time I meet someone new I see another piece to this puzzle fitting into place. Every day I wake up to a new me, a new experience of what I am to do, where I am to show up, and just how quickly I am to close my mouth.
Ah... show up and shut up. What a way to live.
So, without finishing my coffee, brushing my teeth or washing my face, I hoof it over to them, walk in, and spill my story. Now, I have to hand it to the three women who came out to the front desk to hear me. They didn't flinch when the woman sitting down looked up at me and said, "So are you wanting to be a receptionist?"
Without hesitation, I said of course. Now in all honesty, that was the furthest thing from my mind until that moment. She told me that she had taken another position and was not able to fill hers there at the center so she was going to be leaving them without someone at the front desk. She wanted to know how soon I would be able to start.
Let's get this straight. I moved to Taos on Tuesday because why? Well, because it felt right. I found a house to move into, and it just happens to be within walking distance of this business. The man I was dating while living in Santa Fe has close ties to the house I now live in and the birthing center. He also lives right down the street.
Upon coming to Taos I realized that everything I had ever asked for, desired, contemplated on, and wished for was swirled around in a pot of what? It felt as if everything I had ever wanted was a big conglomeration of whatever just showed up. This feeling released me from anything needing to be a certain way. I did not feel it necessary to show up as an energy therapist, as a girlfriend of this chiropractor's, or as a business associate of Tammy's. I just felt the need to show up and shut up, to be totally open to however anything unfolded. I see now how I could have never guessed any of this. I see now how something so much bigger than I could ever imagine is playing out, and any judgments I could possibly have on anything or anyone is so far out in left field that it's not even worth imagining. Nothing in my past is helpful at this point. I have no references for how to live like this. Everything is a possibility. Anyone could be in my life at this point. All labels must be thrown away. Everything begins anew right now.
While working on packaging Tammy's chocolate truffles in the kitchen, we both felt a presence. Then we felt a whole lot of presences. The house was full. The chills were running through both of us, and it felt very crowded all of a sudden. The information that was relayed was just wild, and while listening I was playing a movie in my head of everything I've ever gone through in my life that had led to this moment. I was flabbergasted at how every single thing, every word spoken, every person in my life played such a significant role to get me right here right now.
I am blown away by all of it. The significance I've placed on anything in my life seems so trivial and crazy right now. I think of the... oh, it just doesn't matter. None of it matters.
I am here right now, and it seems it's a place I've been waiting for all my life. I'm meeting people who've just arrived as I have, and it feels as if I've known them forever. I'm meeting soul sisters by the handfuls. We all have similar stories, lived in the same places, and are here together now.
There is something deep within that knows what's going on. There is a peaceful feeling to all of this. I know. I just know. I am here for something so much bigger than I could've even thought possible. So, I just do what I'm inclined to do. The nudgings aren't really nudgings anymore as much as they are shovings -- kicking my ass out the door. There's no second guessing, just a quiet knowing what to do next, and every time I meet someone new I see another piece to this puzzle fitting into place. Every day I wake up to a new me, a new experience of what I am to do, where I am to show up, and just how quickly I am to close my mouth.
Ah... show up and shut up. What a way to live.
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