"Not to decide is to decide."

December, 2014

Decisions

 

Every day, nearly every moment, we are offered choices and faced with decisions ~

Which shoes to wear?  What to eat?  When to leave?  Where to go? 

How to answer a question?  Who to call?  Who not to call?, etc., etc. 

It's an ongoing process, and the more often that we make a conscious choice,

the more we allow our power to be called forth. 

When we are 'up against' a decision that is difficult to make, we can sit on it,

waiting for the decision to show itself, for all the right and perfect information to come to us,

or for someone else to make the decision for us!! 

If we sit long enough, each of these is likely to happen.

 

It feels, however, that ultimately, every choice to be made is made instantly somewhere within us ~

most likely, in the heart.  The mind doesn't always get the memo right away, and therefore lags behind,

waiting for something to help it along.  The lag time comes most often from fear ~

fear of hurting someone, fear of being judged by others, fear of being lonely, or fear of failing.

Basically, fear of suffering the consequences of a wrong or bad decision, when, in reality, there is no wrong decision. 

Just like there is no bad weather!  Weather is weather - it's how we judge it.  Some people love clouds, storms and sleet! 

Others love sun, humidity and intense heat.

 

A decision is just a decision - it will certainly have consequences, as that's the nature of the beast,

and those will then present yet another opportunity to choose. 

The process is endless. 

When we can be bold and base our decision on what feels Right and True,

despite what others may think about or judge us for,

then our actions can more easily align with our heart, and magic begins to happen.

 

A decision based on fear will probably fall flat and leave us feeling dismayed and powerless. 

 

A decision is always made, whether it is by us or by the Universe. 

How many times have you felt or known that you needed to make some change,

to choose something other than what you presently had, yet resisted for fear of making a mistake?? 

 ("The man who never makes mistakes never does anything.")

... and then had it happen anyway, by circumstances 'outside of your control?'  My guess is more than once! 

 

Understandably, everything is in right and perfect order, and in Divine Timing. 

And personally speaking, when a decision has been delivered to me while I was waiting to make it myself,

I feel like I wasted a lot of time, and missed other great opportunities. 

I feel disheartened (no mistake that heart is here!) and sad. 

I will always make mistakes, but a mistake is pretty much the same as an outtake, right? 

And sometimes, the outtakes of a movie are more entertaining than much of the movie itself!!

 

Being in our power is essential right now.  We are being given opportunity again and again to seize it, to revel in it,

and to heighten vibration, light, and joy by owning it.  We are all brilliant and powerful beings,

being called on to shine forth, to be who we truly are, and to bring others to their power, as well. 

When we make decisions and choices based on knowing this as Truth, then our decisions will be easier,

they will produce magical results, and we will finally know the truth of being supported by the Universe

and being loved by all of Life itself.

 

Any decision based on love and truth can only bring results of love and truth.

 

To Decide is To Decide!!!!

 

Blessings to you, and

thank you for deciding to read this!

Please share it with others!

Please acknowledge yourself for the bounty and brilliance,

the love and knowing that you possess, and that you ARE.

 

Prayers Answered

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

“Dear God, please let her chase a squirrel or a bird.  Let her play and jump, please.”

Five weeks ago, my cat Angel got “caught” by two pit bulls, and when I saw her, she was in the mouth of the male, being shaken, not stirred.  It was a terrifying sight for so many reasons.  A series of miracles and serendipitous events took place in a matter of seconds, and now, these weeks later, she is still alive, and some days, I think, moving even better than before.  I have taken time to massage her hips and legs when she lets me, and it seems to have allowed her strength, courage, and stamina back in.  But she hasn’t been playing like she used to.  I think she misses it as much as I do.

Within seconds of me thinking this prayer, she turned where she was, looked over at the tree and trotted over to where she’d spotted a squirrel.  She waited for a few seconds, crept in, watched the squirrel a bit longer, and then zing!!  Pounced!  My heart leapt!!

Then the funniest thing happened – the squirrel, after having ”escaped” up the tree, crawled back down, and just sat in front of Angel, neither of them moving for the longest time.  He moved ‘round the tree to where the seed dish was and she followed.  There he sat for a good half hour, eating seeds ands watching Angel, who was two feet away, watching him.

That was Monday afternoon.  Yesterday, late afternoon, I looked out and saw Angel snoozing in the shade, and a foot away, the squirrel, up on a post, looking down on her.  He scurried a little higher when I came out with the camera, but still stayed for a long time, with Angel seemingly oblivious to his presence.

Today, same time of day, I sat out under the tree with Angel, and there he came, down the tree, stopping to stare at us, with nothing more on is agenda than sharing space with us.

Harmony.... comes in many ways, and comes as another prayer answered, and one that, until now, I’d forgotten that I’d prayed!

June 20, 2014

          My morning walks are the best. They lead me to places that are always new and alive, peaceful and beautiful.  The neighborhoods and areas around me are all different from each other.  There are small pockets that have their own feel, long neighborhoods with gorgeous gardens that end in a cul de sac (where I was this morning), big townhouses that abut the bayou, small brick houses with pots and pots of plants and vines in the yard, and so much more!  Some mornings, I stay in the same area, meandering throughout  the streets and appreciating all the different styles of houses, landscaping, and exterior design. 

           Today, though, I found myself walking out to the main street, and crossing against early morning traffic to a street named ‘Crewilla.’  I wondered why I hadn’t been there yet. It was beautiful!!!  Peaceful, large homes with gorgeous lawns, and at the end of the street, the bayou.  Water!  There were a few houses along the water, and then, an empty lot with a chain link fence and an open, welcoming gate.  There were no signs posted, and no tire tracks from any vehicles inside, so I walked in and headed down to the water. 

Before I got there, I spotted a kid’s bicycle lying on the top step of several going down to a dilapidated dock.  A fellow intruder!  We saw each other about the same time, and all I could think of was Norman Rockwell.  Here was a young boy, about 9 or 10, shirtless, shoeless, cutoffs, and tan, just there by the water, waiting for his buddy to show up so they could fish.

“Have you ever caught anything here?”

“Yeah, we caught four catfish and one speckled trout once.”

“Ever see dolphins?”

“Oh, yeah!  Me and my brother saw one a couple of weeks ago, right over there!  It came right up to the dock.  It freaked us out.  It was pretty cool.”

“It’s nice that this is here.  I’m guessing it’s OK to be here.  Do you come down her a lot?”

“Yeah, I’ve been coming since I was a kid.  My dad used to bring me down here.  He taught me how to fish.”

          When he spoke these last two sentences, his face and body changed dramatically.  His whole being was overcome with so much sadness, it was palpable.

“Why doesn’t he come with you now?”

“Umm..he hurt his foot or something.”

Deeper sorrow.

“I am so sorry.  You look so sad when you talk about him!”

“Yes, ma’am, I am.  I miss him a lot.”

Just on the verge of tears (both of us!), I wanted to reach out and hug him as tightly as I could, to console him, love him, and somehow ease his sadness.  But I was already a stranger in his territory, and though I felt that he would have appreciated it (we can all use a hug!), I didn’t.  There are so many rules against physicality with children lately that we all seem to have our walls up more than is necessary.  That makes me sad, too.

So instead of hugging, we just talked some more; about dolphins, another swimming hole, and about his siblings, his mom, and again, his dad.  He was candid and polite.  My heart was aching.   What a beautiful child, what a beautiful moment. 

He’d been there first, and I didn’t’ want to overstay my welcome, so I decided to head out, and leave him to his favorite fishing spot and private getaway.

“What’s your name?”

“Adam.”

“I’m Maria.  Thanks for sharing your spot with me.  I hope you have a good day.  And that you get to see your dad soon.”

“Thanks.”

And as I was walking away, “It was nice meeting you…… 

The tears welled up, and the pain in my chest was thick and heavy.  My heart felt like his face had looked.  It took my breath away!  I cried most of the way home, saying a prayer of peace for Adam, and a prayer of gratitude for the experience, to have spent time with such a loving child.  I am always grateful when I follow the pull that takes me to where I am meant to be. 

I love my morning walks!

May 27, 2013

It’s 840a in Paris, and I’m in a line of at least 1,000 people, or less, ha.  It is quiet, serene, calm.  We are all snaking around orange ribbon-lined lanes (the guard/helper is dressed in a dark suit with same-colored orange tie. Way French, very cool) – headed toward Immigration/Police auxfronteieres - Border Patrol.  I’m heading to gate F49 and everyone’s headed somewhere.  Couple in front of me has a flight in 20 minutes – likely they’ll miss it.  The snaking that we’re doing is a slow snaking.  But no one’s tapping toes, huffing and puffing, or griping.  It’s really a nice feeling.  Maybe because most of us? have flown overseas and are on different body clocks, and are somewhat sleepy.  For my body, it’s 1:30am.  After a 4 hour ‘nap’ on the plane, I feel at least coherent.  And it’s a sunny day, with lots of windows in the airport to brighten our wait.  The smell, on the other hand, is less cheerful.  When I rounded a corner coming down an escalator which brought me to a hallway of bright green glass, my nose was assaulted with a stench of poorly maintained public restrooms, or a dirty litter box.  Pew!!!  It’s not as bad in this line, but it’s still lingering.  Ugh.

I’m reminded again of Angel, who was looking shriveled and small when I left her this afternoon.  Ugh.  I’m not sure what’s going to happen with her.  

OMG!!!!  Everything is a long line!!  The walkway to the lane, thank goodness, is all glass-sided, because it’s about a quarter-mile long, or so it seems this morning.  And we’re all shoved in here, standing, waiting.  Given that it’s a flight to Naples, I’m now hearing lots of Italian, much more of a sing-song cadence to it, and certainly more lively than the sullen group an hour ago.  The sun feels good;  I think it’s chilly out – or in Italy, anyway, as I’m seeing lots of sweaters, jackets, and boots.  Yikes!  I brought mostly summer wear; I have a funny feeling I’ll be wearing the two sweaters and one pair of long pants that I brought for the better part of the trip.  We’ll see.  At this point, I’m just glad to be here, and to be awake.  

The last time I traveled to and in Europe was 20 years ago, with my dad, and I was then in my beer-drinking phase (that lasted about 35 years), so my arrival in Europe found me groggy and tired for the first day or two.  It feels good now to not have that going on.  Twenty years older, and I feel better – that’s gotta be good.

Things have come a long way in 20 years – with all the huge technological advances, the ability to call my cousin in Naples from France (or the US) is possible.  Not so my last visit here.  Unfortunately.  One time, my dad and I were meeting in, I think, either Luxembourg or Brussels, at the train station.  He arrived earlier than I did, flying in from Albuquerque, and I from Atlanta, on Delta, which we thereafter, (not so) fondly referred to as ‘the ten-minute airline,’ for its 2-3 hour delayed departure times, announced to its passengers in 10-minute increments.  As in, …”we’ll be leaving shorty.  In approximately 10 minutes.”  You get the idea.  So my flight was significantly late, and I wasn't at the train station when dad was there to meet me, or at the next train’s arrival.  Or the next, or the next.  It was crazy – he must have, in looking back on the situation, been more than a little worried.  I’d called the Hotel from Atlanta before leaving, but they said he’d checked out (?!?).  A comedy of errors, really.  So we only ever connected when I showed up around midnight to a weary but happy-to-see-me dad. Cell phones then would have been so nice.

The other way new and cool thing was a TV screen at every seat on the plane, with a ton of movies, shows, games and music – for free!!  I remember when some flights had a stereo system with 7 or 8 channels of music, comedy, sports, etc. to choose from, the dial was on the armrest, and headphones to listen cost $3.  That when beer was $2 or $3.  Now it’s $7.  Glad I quit drinking!!!  

The one thing that hasn’t changed, apparently, is airplane food.  Yikes.  I’d ordered a special meal, something along the lines of vegan/vegetarian – 'Muslim' seemed to fit the description - weeks ago.  What I got was 2 pieces of chicken over cooked-to-death LeSeur peas (my friend Moody used to call them leisure peas.  And instantaneous coffee. I miss him!), paper-like lettuce salad, a hard cucumber slice, and some scarily gooey cabbage on top.  Nice to know that some things stand the test of time.  J

OK, this is cool.  I finally got on the plane, and at row 3, realized that my assigned seat in row 25 was WAY too far back for me, so I sat down in an empty seat (in an empty row!) up front, waiting to see if it filled up.  Well, it didn’t, so I stayed and strapped in.  And I just realized that I’m in something like First class or Business.  The stewardess brought us a tube of something that I thought was a granola bar, but realized the it was a ‘refreshing wet towel,' AND I asked for a coke (I was craving a coke!), just on the fluke that she’d bring me one.  “Un moment, c’est vous plais.”  In a moment.  And sure enough, in a moment, she appeared with a 4 oz. cute can of icy cold Coke!  And set it down on the table next to my seat.  ‘Seat left free for your comfort.’  All this and we hadn’t even left the gate yet!  It’s a 2-hour flight to Naples.  I can’t wait to see what else we get!  Thank you, Angel and Dad.  J

Stranger, Cash, And Magic

 12/23/13

        It was cold, it was dark, and my porch light was off.  I’d just pulled the bulb earlier to replace it with some color more “Christmasy.”  (I was thinking red, but was swayed against it by a male friend…)  So the knock at the front door took me aback when I answered and couldn’t clearly see who was there.  I knew enough that it wasn’t a familiar face. 

“Hi.  I hate to bother you.  I’m a new neighbor, and I just locked my keys in my car. I’m waiting to get a locksmith, but he wants $65 cash, and all I have is $52.  Can you help me out?  This is really embarrassing.”

        Do you see where this is going?  If you do, you’re way ahead of where I was.  My antennae were certainly up, and I’ve given money to enough panhandlers with a line to know one when I hear it, but I went with it anyway.  (I have since recognized, and asked to be relieved of, my tendency to not want to seem distrusting of anyone – even when I have every reason to be!!)

        I had no cash on me, honestly, and told him so.  You won’t believe what came next…

        “Well, can you go to an ATM and get some?  I can wait.”

        Wow.  And you won’t believe what came next.  I said OK!!!! 

I don’t use ATM’s, so said I could run up to the grocery store, use my debit card, and get cash back.  (This is embarrassing as I write this.  I must have really been caught off guard!)  I had him come inside out of the cold, while I got my coat, keys, etc.  He then rode with me to the store, at which time he told me who all he’d bought gifts for (2 nieces in New Orleans, a sister, and, ‘of course,’ his wife), how long he’d been married, which house he lived in, where he worked, his occupation, and how much it rained in Jacksonville, where he’d just moved from. 

At the store, I asked if he wanted or needed anything. 

        “Cigarettes would be great.”  (Um, I don’t THINK so!)

        “Um, I don’t THINK so.  I’m already giving you money and extra for gas.  You can buy your own cigarettes.  I meant food.”

        So I got a juice for myself and $20, and back home we headed.  More information on the ride home.  How much their rent was, with a roommate, his wife’s former job, and where his parents lived.  Oh, and his name.  “Steve.”

        “So you want to call the locksmith now, so he’ll be there and you won’t have to wait in the cold?’

        “No, I’ll call him when we get back.  Thanks.”

        I went to drop him off at the house he said he rented (3 doors down from me), but he needed to get his bike first, which was parked in my next-door neighbor’s driveway….  Hmmm…..

        (Gads!  This is so pathetic.  I just get mad as I’m writing this.  How did I miss all this?!  Well, I didn’t, really.  I noticed it all, took it all in, and just didn’t think or choose to ask the questions, afraid that he would think that I “didn’t trust” him.)

        I dropped him off, made sure he’d be OK and said goodbye; he reached across and gave me the hugest hug before he got out of the car.  Where he headed after that, I didn’t see.  I went back to my house feeling, well, odd, at best.  Knowing, though, that I’d helped someone in need.  “There, but for the grace of God, go I.”

        I called a friend (the one who’d suggested I not use a red light out front), told him what had happened, and that I thought I might have just been scammed. 

        “You WHAT?!?  You LET HIM IN YOUR HOUSE!???”

        He was all over the safety issue. 

        “It’s not what he might have taken, but what could have happened to YOU!”

Yikes.  Quite frankly, I myself am baffled at how much I put myself in harm’s way, and yet got out of it only conversation, a sense of good will, and a genuinely appreciative hug. 

        Turns out, where he said he lived was the home of Betty, an older woman who knew nothing about a Steve, but who had been approached the same night, much later, by a man with the same story.  She’d slipped $15 through the screen door, feeling, like I had, sorry for him on such a cold night, right before Christmas. 

        There’s a sucker born every minute, I suppose.  And though I clearly fell into that category, from that situation I was able to identify and release a really unhealthy belief/behavior, meet and befriend a new neighbor (who is a TRIP!!!  She came to the door at noon in bright pink zebra-print fuzzy pajamas, cat-eye glasses, and a big hairdo!), and trust in my heart that “Steve” was an angel of some sort, allowing me to safely let my love outweigh my fear.

  I often wonder if Jesus was perceived by some to be a panhandler with a good line, and can’t help but think that I am sometimes being either tested, or offered an opportunity to give, no matter how it looks.  Maybe that’s why I overlooked all the signs of a con, and went, instead, with a hope and a feeling that gifts given that night were mutual and appreciated.  It was, after all, Christmas Eve Eve.