Category Archives: divine order

Feb2

what if the dreams are ours to keep?

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We did it! We did it! We survived January! Woohoo…let’s celebrate already. It is still brutally cold outside, but I do sense the days getting a bit longer, and we have had some intermittent sunshine the past few days. It makes such a dramatic difference in the way I feel. Apparently I have terrible seasonal affective disorder (SAD) and I think I always have had it, since childhood.

I’ve had a lot of things since childhood…ha! Autism and ADHD and anxiety and…and…a great big open musical heart and a pretty good mind and some artistic talent…and best of all, an innate curiosity about how life works and a sense of wonder about the world. I wouldn’t want me any other way.

And in my deep and endless curiosity I have always asked, myself and you: what if? What if, in fact, we are right where we need to be doing exactly what we need to be doing? What if, as Einstein posed, everything is a miracle? I’ve always known the truth of it – as have you – somewhere deep inside. And the 238 days of January just reminded me. I need reminding, seemingly constantly.

I need reminding that the world was made to be free in. I need reminding that all life is precious. I need reminding that I am enough – just right, in fact. Not too big, too small, too smart, too stupid, too much. And most especially, I all too often need reminding – SO ARE YOU. You’re just right.

I’ve left far too many people behind. They silently disappeared in the rear view mirror when I moved away. They ghosted me out of anger and frustration. They threw up their hands in defeat and walked away. They drank themselves into oblivion. I told them off and never looked back. They died of cancer. Their heart gave out. Some I didn’t really know. And some I didn’t know how to lose and I still haven’t caught my breath. All just right, right where they needed to be, doing exactly what they needed to be doing. It’s hard to trust, but it has to be. It has to all be sacred. Nothing else makes any sense.

What if…what if we wake in the afterlife, in the many mansions prepared for us, and find we brought all our dreams with us? What if, as I hope, we get to meet everyone again under different circumstances, in peace? Without expectations or need. Just love…

…just love. These are wild historical times we are living in. Everything gets overwhelming every day. And yet something inside us recognizes the moment as a choice. Love or fear. Trust or doubt. Yes or no. If every choice, every thought, every action boils down to yes or no it suddenly becomes straightforward. Yes to love. No to everything else. That doesn’t always mean it is easy, but it is simple. What if…we were made for a time such as this? What if it is all just right right now? What if…we didn’t know we were ready?

Nov17

dimming up…

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“What fresh hell is this?” – Dorothy Parker

Living with chronic illness is exhausting, but by far the worst illness I deal with on a daily basis is the OPD. OPD (Obnoxious Personality Disorder) and it’s symptoms are debilitating. When I am miserable, feel like life is not treating me fairly and God has abandoned me, I know where to go for help. I go to church. Right here, today, with Carolyn Myss. She is my spirit animal, and lucky for me, she’s got clues to spare.

And then I channel my inner Elizabeth Bigelow and remind myself what a privilege it is to be alive in the here and now, even if I don’t know how the technology works…

Jul28

Don’t beam me up, Scotty

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Yesterday’s post seemed a bit preachy about what I don’t want. I beg your patience. What I DO want, and have always wanted, is freedom. Peace of mind. That’s my measurement from here on out for the rest of this incarnation, which I hope will be many more years. As Mimi would say, “good Lord willin’ and the crick don’t rise.” Do I need more exercise to pull that off? I certainly do. So thank you to my dear, dear friends and family who do continue to entice me out to share in activities. I have to pick and choose wisely right now as I am still recovering from a debilitating, albeit invisible, disease. Thank you for not giving up on me.

This delicate balance I seek to find this summer includes what feels like a huge psychological shift. Now in my 7th decade I seem to be just discovering what freedom means – specifically, to think freely. To dig down into the depths of my true being and find out what it is that I really want. Who I truly am. To stop using life energy to flail against what I don’t want. To stop protesting, to stop feeling put upon and pulled at by those around me.

Two or three nights ago now I woke, as I always do, between 3 and 4 a.m. I “heard” the voice in my head, seemingly out of nowhere, stating very clearly: “THERE IS NOTHING AGAINST YOU HERE.” Intuitively I knew that by HERE it meant, in life, on earth, for all time. There is nothing against me. There never has been. And as my old mentor Jack Boland would have said, “therefore, as night follows day…” that means that everything is FOR me.

This concept may take a minute or lifetime for me to grok. I’ll have to get back to you on this…this is what I mean when I say, “on the road to enlightenment, I’m taking the local.” I mean to get it with every cell of my being. Don’t rush me.

Please indulge this idea with me: what if everything is for you? Another long time mentor is Rob Bell. Young as he is, he is onto something. Several years ago I went to listen to him speak in his home town of Grand Rapids, Michigan. He left the evangelical mega church he was pastor of because they wouldn’t let him teach enlightenment. There’s something I might do if you asked – I’d go to hear him speak again. He leads you out – out of the restriction of your personality into your natural state of freedom. He gets it, or as he says, there is no exit strategy here. “This is not an evacuation theology…”

It’s true that I don’t want to go anywhere with you. Because I want to be nowhere with you, as in nowhere = now here.

Jul16

Road Trip!

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Years before GPS existed I drove from my home in Traverse City, Michigan to stay with friends in San Fransisco. You know, I went to the AAA office and picked up my maps and itinerary. As I was getting close, I called for directions through the maze of suburbs to their home. They instructed me to meet them at a restaurant at the highway exit. It would be easier to follow them back. We came from 3 different directions and met for dinner. As we were leaving the restaurant one friend said, “oh, I have to stop at the hardware. I need an adapter to plug 2 phones into the same phone jack.” I reached into my purse and pulled one out. “Like this? Will this work?” After the laughter died down, they said, “who are you – Mary Poppins?!”

Yes. I am the real Mary Poppins. I’m magic. When you live just a tiny bit more curious than scared, life works like that. Synchronicities abound. Daily. I have more stories like that than you have time for. Thousands. In many ways it seems I have lived a charmed life. Not an easy life, but a natural life, in accordance with the laws of nature. When I can stay out of my own way, that is…

So while we are on this subject of enlightenment (…wait. what?) let’s listen to another hour long video. I promise not to make a habit of it, but these 2 are important. Because honestly, last Sunday’s video with Liz Gilbert and this one with Kyle Cease will get us free. I WANT FREE.

When I was in high school my Mom taught me to spell guru: G-U-R-U, saying that I would never need one. But I do love these two teachers. They are readily available any hour of the day if you have access to a streaming device and internet service. Here Kyle Cease describes the life experience of our culture, across generations to today. Listen all the way through to get all the gifts – to find why you are my Mom.

Because being free now sure would feel good. That’s a joke…now and free are the same thing. Do you think I’m funny? Well, jump in, let’s get on the road to enlightenment. And we will stay in our lane, I promise. We’re taking the local…

Kyle’s 12 Principles: 1) You are loved; 2) God hears you; 3) You are love; 4) You are free now; 5) You are safe; 6) You are worthy; 7) You are abundant; 8) You are magic; 9) Others forget they are loved; 10) It’s always passing; 11) Everything is perfect; 12) You are light.

Jul14

burn, baby, burn

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Freedom is our promised birthright. Freedom. What does that even mean? I can’t speak for you. For me it means enlightenment – a lofty, etherial sounding concept – which is exactly the same thing as mental health.

My entire 70+ years I have been in a personal battle for my mental well being. Against the insanity, the slavery, of trying to live up to so many expectations. Yours. My own. My father’s, my mother’s, my loved ones, my teachers, the adults I looked to for guidance. Religious leaders, spiritual counselors, co-workers, employers, the creditors and people I owe money (phew!)…the list goes on. And on.

When will I be enough? When will my debts be paid? Well, I’m here to tell you. This oppression stops today. Say it with me: “All my debts are paid, both seen and unseen.” ALL MY DEBTS ARE PAID. I have an eternal flame in my soul and from today forward, I am throwing anything on the fire that tugs at holding me back from absolute freedom and well-being. If you feel that I owe you anything at all, monetarily or physically or emotionally, write it off now. Stop looking for me to come through for you. It’s not going to happen. I’m spent. And I am forgiving myself TODAY.

Does this mean I won’t be paying my bills? Of course not. It isn’t a negation of any responsibility. If anything, it’s stepping up for it. Does this mean you can’t count on me to keep our agreements? Of course you can; our agreements are just that. But I will behave with integrity because I can, not because I should. No more shoulding on myself. As Liz Gilbert says here, she’s done being the orderly in her family’s mental institution. I am announcing my retirement. Consider this my two minute notice.

For church today, let’s listen to Liz Gilbert. She’s figured it out ahead of us, and it might save your life. It’s an hour long video and I highly recommend you find the time any way you can. Especially if you are tired, owe money, have a stack of paperwork or emails waiting in your inbox, feel the least bit obligated anywhere. I am telling you truly – you cannot afford to wait. You can thank me later, but you don’t owe me a thing. I free you to show up in my life any way you choose.

“In my defenselessness my safety lies.” – ACIM

Jun16

a public service announcement

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For church this week I’ve invited Angi Sullens to speak to us. She’s been inspiring me for years. She doesn’t pull any punches, and I appreciate that in a person. Wonder Hunter, filmmaker, Muse Juice travel guide, founder of Duirwaigh Studios, publisher of books and decks. I’m betting she doesn’t need to look for thin places; they emanate from her. So when imagination knocks…

Jun14

‘Caol Ait…the thin place

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When I was house hunting several years ago I had become quite discouraged. The first house I made an offer on I was over-the-moon smitten with. It really was my dream house. I didn’t get it. I offered $5K over asking price within 24 hours of it being listed. I was the second offer, and not the highest. But I was devastated. It still feels like a loss. Some days when I’m on an errand nearby I cannot resist the urge to drive past. Add house stalker to the list of my guilty pleasures.

Once I had a purchase agreement on the home I actually bought, moving toward closing, the process stalled twice. The seller was not complying with terms of my lender, or not fixing the things the inspection tagged. Again I became discouraged, so twice I threatened to call off the deal. It did motivate the seller. Each time when I became frustrated I did what I always do – asked for guidance in meditation. Both times I clearly heard: “you are being placed.” Because I was grieving the loss of the first house, I frustratingly replied to God, “whatever…”

The first neighbors I had next door were psycho neighbors from hell. I have never dealt with anyone like them in my life. They were threatening me and I was afraid in my own home. I suspect drugs were involved, but come to find out they had caused trouble with the other neighbors for years. I learned that the man I bought the house from had sued them apparently. Their dog had attacked his fiance’. The first summer I was here their cat attacked me – as in ran across the yard and flew 5 feet through the air at my face. The arm I used to block the attack required stitches and I was given a course of antibiotics.

A year or so later I received a letter from the township informing me that they had applied for a zoning variance. They wanted to open a day care facility, and a public hearing would be held at the next township meeting to decide that. There were already 4 adults, 2 teenagers and a few children living there in the small house. They regularly parked on my lawn. There was constant traffic around the clock, along with regular all night parties. Their dogs, cats, and chickens ran all over my property, including inside my gated back fence. And they often left my gates open as my yard was a shortcut for them to the side street – where 15 or 20 of their party guests would park once my lawn was full. They walked by my bedroom window all night with flash lights yelling to one another.

My daily life was untenable this way, and I concluded that I would have to move. But now my other neighbors came knocking on my door imploring me to action; they had received the same letter from the township and were in a panic. Further away and not in site, they had no idea what I was dealing with. They had endured their own altercations. That day in my living room we prepared letters to protest the zoning variance and attended the meeting en force. We took an attorney along (a family member of mine) to show we meant business. The application was denied, but I feared repercussions.

Early one morning before dawn I opened the front door to out my elderly beagle Odie. I was face-to-face with the neighbor woman immediately outside my front door, carrying a milk jug with brown liquid in it. Startled, I asked her what she was doing and she said, “killing these dandelions for you.” I said no, thank you, and asked her to leave my property, to which she narrowed her eyes and grumbled, “we were here first.” I don’t even know what that meant, but I didn’t ask. Don’t try to reason with insanity.

During this process I was meditating (when I wasn’t shaking and crying) asking for guidance. And I distinctly heard, “They are being re-placed.” I had no idea what the heck that meant either, but soon a For Sale sign went up in their front yard. I actually fell to my knees and burst into tears. No one should ever have to live like this.

Their house sold within 24 hours and $5K over asking price. That house, and the one behind me, have since been sold as holiday retreats to young families from Detroit and Chicago. Not only do I rarely see or hear anyone around me, but they are so very pleasant when they are here on the occasional weekend. They know I am keeping an eye. I will gladly take their weekend trash to set out, and they will often mow my “back 40” as a gesture of appreciation. They leave baked treats outside my door. I couldn’t want for better neighbors.

My house still needs work. In the 7 years I have been here I have done some, but not all, of the finishing work. Built in 1955 it is solid. It needs to be; it is usually buffeted by high winds off Lake Michigan. About a quarter mile inland, with wintertime glints of sun off the water, I look out from treetop level across valleys in three directions. Southeast I see pine-forested hilltops miles in the distance. Hawthorn Cottage is now a quiet little sanctuary, my very own thin place. So as it turns out, I have been placed.

Author and designer Ted Watson Kennedy has a summer home also named Hawthorne Cottage:

May8

RAYHOPE

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On a cheerier note…well, I did not mean to go ahead and publish that previous post! I was working on it… My dyslexic ADD wishes the words Post and Publish didn’t both start with P. But here we are. Let me tell you another experience I had several years later, shortly before my father passed away. I had to travel over an hour to visit him. He was living with my brother by this time, and while my brother worked during the day, my sisters and I were taking turns checking in on him and making sure he had meals and was doing alright.

But he wasn’t doing alright, and neither was I. I was going through one of the worst times of my life. I was grieving heavily. I was going through a divorce, and I was losing my Dad. I felt like everything had been ripped away. I was having a nervous breakdown.

Driving was difficult while crying. I kept having to pull off on the shoulder of the road to compose myself. And then a simple silly thought came to me – how I often pray for others, but why couldn’t I also pray for myself? I guess it had never occurred to me. I guess I thought it was selfish. But this day I went right into it. And as I was turning onto the long dirt road that lead to their ugly rundown house in the middle of nowhere, I asked for something I never had: “If you are listening, God, if this is real – then show me a ray of hope.”

Dad and I visited over lunch. I washed the dishes and put away a few groceries. We watched some inane cooking show on afternoon tv…and when he was ready for a nap that would take him through to evening, I tucked him in and left. When I got to the highway where I would turn off the dirt road I waited for traffic to clear. And pulled out behind a huge black SUV. As I came up behind this vehicle I noticed it had a vanity plate. No numbers, all letters. I couldn’t read it until we were stopped at a traffic light.

It read: R A Y H O P E

And I will never doubt again.

https://youtube.com/watch?v=-TbqRaBY9K0%3Fsi%3Du3k1ADJVjwyyuBzb

May6

Now what do I do?

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Today is a dear friend’s birthday. I sure am glad she was born. She has been a constant inspiration to me for decades…how lucky am I? What if the gift of her in my life is just a simple metaphor for God? What if EVERYTHING is conspiring to help me?

Years ago I was driving north with my sister in the car; I don’t remember why. It was just getting dark and we were still about an hour south of home. Suddenly a police cruiser was behind us and put on his flashers. While I slowed and prepared to pull onto the shoulder my sister went off with her own emergency signal. It went something like: “oh what the hell?! You weren’t speeding! Why is he pulling us over?! What did you do wrong?!” I calmly turned to her and said, “Why would you assume something is wrong? How about we wait and see what this is about?” As it turned out, I had a tail light out. I explained to the officer that we had just picked up the vehicle from the dealer the previous day, as my husband had hit a deer last week (unfortunately a common problem here.) He said, “oh! I know exactly what the problem is. Pop the trunk and I’ll fix it.” Soon we were on our way, safer for the help. My sister, btw, made some comment about how lucky I am and how I never seem to panic (don’t believe it) because I always assume I’m in the right place at the right time. I’ve had far too many experiences of divine intervention to possibly believe in coincidence. Sadly, my sister would write in her memoir years later that she feels abandoned by God, that she “even knows a tarot card reader he blesses more than he blesses me.” I’m that tarot card reader, evil as she thinks that is. She can’t begin to comprehend how I seem to skirt the extreme hardships of the rest of the family. I could tell her, but she would never believe me: I HAVE MORE FAITH.

I don’t care who you pray to, or spell with, or your name for the divine within or without. Faith means that you know that you were “made this way,” for just “such a time as this.” (Esther 4:14) – that somewhere along the way, likely early in childhood, you decided that God doesn’t make mistakes. You decided that everything – EVERY SINGLE THING serves a purpose here on this planet we call home. And that you are not given the entire plan on purpose. You don’t need to understand. It’s NOT YOUR JOB to police the human experience, and NEWSFLASH! – you are not the gatekeeper of Heaven. Isn’t that a relief?!

Let’s spend a week asking “what if?” and be one percent more curious than fearful. Let’s be one percenters. And let’s celebrate those wonderful souls whose lives bless ours. Happy Birthday!

Apr3

when it’s nobody’s business

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Heart pounding anxiety woke me up at 3 a.m; which is not unusual anymore. I managed to talk myself off that ledge in about a minute. I’m getting better at it. My goal was freedom. The goal is always going to be freedom. Because I feel like my dream world, my rest, was hijacked. It’s mine. I want it back.

My friends and I are all worried about our adult children. They are struggling to find their footing in a culture that is undermining them every step of the way. And we are not sure how to help, or if we can. Mind you, they were raised as we were, in decent middle class families. We were well educated, but our current incomes are not cutting it. We don’t have the financial security we thought we were building all our work life. Our children left school in debt with no guarantee of a job, let alone a living wage. I read a news article last week that shocked me to my core: recent studies have shown that at least fifty percent of the baby boomers in the U.S. are financially supporting adult children. In many cases it’s the adult child and their family. They came home to get their feet back on the ground – in one case cited, 13 years ago.

Children or not, everyone I know is struggling. We are all trying to figure this out as we go along. We have no role models. We’re outliving our parents, and we are in entirely uncharted territory. We are the first generation that is openly talking about the abuse our parents and grandparents kept secret. No one was consciously dealing with narcissistic abuse 20 years ago. Or 10. No one recognized that past generations were being groomed for sexual abuse. The culture tolerated it, they tolerated verbal abuse, even laughed about it. They tolerated bad behavior, made excuses for it. Hell, we’ve voted it into the White House. Taking accountability for your behavior was optional. Do you wonder we have an epidemic of dementia?! (Help me forget!) Addiction? Of narcissism? Of sex trafficking? Of all manner of spiritual bankruptcy? Can no one connect the dots here?! That pandemic was no accident – it was a physical manifestation of a spiritual problem. It’s time to pull our heads out of the sand.

Meanwhile, I’m struggling with my health. Last week I called for a doctor appointment and was reminded that I have to be interrogated by a nurse over the phone to determine whether or not I am sick enough to qualify for a precious appointment. I have to beg just to be seen. Then before I can be given the necessary antibiotic I have to endure a week’s worth of tests. Meanwhile, I was prescribed a temporary superficial treatment. Medicare doesn’t cover that prescription, so I didn’t fill it. I can’t do that and buy groceries. And I’m angry about that.

Now, lest you think me ungrateful, or just a whiner, I am aware of opportunity hiding here in plain sight. When worry and anxiety seem to steal my peace I know my training is not yet complete. And I’m not havoc-ing it anymore (see blog post of March 15th.) Intellectually I know that the way out of angst is gratitude. But my intellect is not easily coerced. I can’t expect to start pontificating about big, general platitudes and get myself free. Those old affirmations aren’t working anymore; this feels like spiritual warfare.

But. I can start small…go back to basics. I’m sure glad I bought an orange desk chair instead of black. Orange is the happiest color. Wow, I love my bed. I love my wide Frodo feet. I walk to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and I say “Thank You” to everything I pass (yes, out loud) – the floor, the countertop, the cat, the doorway, the moon outside. Try it. There are big things I am grateful for, too – like my son having survived cancer. He is struggling through his self-proclaimed “mid-life crisis”…but he’s here for it. Not all of his friends have made it past 40.

I can re-member myself whole. I have resources in my spiritual tool box: friends, some of my family, a loving therapist, tarot cards! At 3 a.m. with a racing heart I call in invisible help: “Christ Jesus, Archangel Michael, Ancestors! Any and all available light workers.” That’s step one. I am NOT TO BE TOILED WITH here. Neither are you – know that. God didn’t make a mistake. You were not a cosmic afterthought. You do not need to “find your purpose”…you ARE your purpose. Live like you belong here. There are no qualifications you haven’t fulfilled. You have exactly the same right to be here as 8,019,876,189 other people. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Since that has been established, I can be the narcissist’s worse nightmare. My home, my mind, and my body – my sanctuary – is a no tolerance zone. No talking down to anyone. I carry an expectation that you will be on your very best behavior around me and show up as present as possible. Don’t ever settle for anything less from anyone. Not your teacher, not your boss, not your doctor, and certainly not your family. I can laugh at myself with the best of them – when I’m silly or wrong. But don’t make fun of me at my expense. Don’t ridicule me. I’m a fucking spiritual Jedi, and I’ve trained my boundaries to be stronger than my empathy. Everybody sing along now…

https://youtube.com/watch?v=YBv1aOawCBg%3Fsi%3DWZND_RBPLuLEgQV8