My Herd

Nat and her friends 006

To say I am an animal lover doesn’t begin to describe the breadth and depth of the love and respect I have for all living creatures. I love all animals without discrimination.

I refuse to kill a spider or bug just because it has the audacity to have wandered into my home. As a matter of fact, last Saturday while at a retreat a fly made it’s way into the room and was buzzing around creating a bit of a distraction to those of us that were trying to meditate.

Okay, it was causing me to be distracted while I was trying to meditate.

As I watched the fly slowly moving around I thought to myself; if I can catch that fly I will release it outdoors. I smiled as I had the thought because there was no way I was going to be able to catch a fly! I’m not some Kung Fu master after all.

However, about 20 minutes later we were getting ready to move from a seated meditation to walking and when I looked down that fly was sitting about six inches from me.

Yes, sitting.

As I slowly moved my hand towards this tiny creature it didn’t move at all. I was able to cup my hands around it and pick it up. Once it was safe and secure in my palm I was able to move it outside and place it on a tree. Only then did it begin to move it’s wings, indicating that it was going to be okay. I was relieved.

Some might find that story silly or a waste of time but me, well I look at it as saving a soul or another energy source that has no more or less value than I do. I was grateful for the opportunity to be of service.

Service. This word has many meanings but in the context in which I am using it, it means this: an action to help some being. In this case; a fly.

One person that is famous for giving or doing service is Oprah. I was watching her one day many years ago and she was doing a segment on Wyatt Webb. He had written a book called It’s Not About The Horse wherein he talks about how horses can and will mirror a humans emotions therefore they can teach you a lot about yourself. It was an interesting piece. I went right out and bought the book.

Several years later I had the means and opportunity to spend time at Miraval Resort and Spa. It’s as beautiful, spiritual and healing a place you can find and I felt blessed to have had the presence of mind to get myself there.

It’s also the place where Wyatt Webb runs the horse program.

I had known he was there since the Oprah episode and vowed to get there one day. Well, one day was here and I was sitting in a room with several others for the seven day intensive program. It was an amazing experience. One I would recommend to anyone.

The day I found myself standing in the arena next to Wyatt and a horse with an audience of 9 watching and listening while he asked me questions about myself was surreal. Even more surreal was when he decided the best way to get me in touch with my inner self was to blindfold me before he had me lift the horses hoof so I could clean it using nothing but my energy and body language.

I did it.

It was amazing!

I’ve been back several times and have had life changing experiences each and every one of them.

I realized I was drawn to horses for a reason.

We were soul mates.

A year or so later I was fortunate enough to find an equine therapist near my home. A wonderful woman with an amazing herd of four horses. We have been working together for the past five years and I have become a member of this herd. The acceptance and reflection I have received from these sessions is indescribable. I have grown more as a person from Equine than from any other therapies I have participated in.

One of my favorite ways of being of service is to muck stalls or groom my herd. I say “my” herd but they don’t legally belong to me. As a matter of fact they don’t belong to me at all. Actually, I feel as if I belong to them.

I believe all creatures big and small have just as much right on this planet as I do. My sessions with the horses have reinforced that belief time and time again.

So, if you need a spider removed from your house or a fly needs rescuing… call me.

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When the lie hurts more than the truth

I’ve often been told that I have the gift of sight. Actually, before I was born my mother went to a psychic that told her I would be born with a “veil” on my face and I would be “special”. The world would know me and I would have gifts that others did not have.

I grew up with that story.

I did research on the “veil” and found it to be somewhat accurate. There are babies born with a “caul” which is often called a veil. It is a piece of membrane from the amniotic sac that clings to the face of the newborn and comes with many superstitions and legends. Often, caul babies are considered to be natural born leaders and often by birthright are Kings and Queens.

That sounds very romantic and faraway but I have been told I have the gift of sight or that I tend to “know” certain things before they happen. I am not certain about all of that but I do know that I have very accurate and strong intuitions that have guided me through out my life.

Like the time  when my husband and I had separated and he told me he was going to California for a work thing but I felt strongly that was not the truth. I was right. He was in Hawaii. I didn’t know at the time why he felt the need to lie to me but lie to me he did. I recently found out that the woman he is currently dating (an old girlfriend) was in Honolulu at the same time he was. My gut tells me they were there together but I have no proof. Just my instinct… that is accurate 99% of the time.

Once I made this connection others began to fall into place. I didn’t want to believe what I was seeing but it all made sense to me now. It validated his reasons for lying to me at the time. Of course I didn’t know it then. I was in too much pain. I just wanted the pain to stop and for him to love me again. So I believed the lie because anything else would be unbearable.

Here we are several months later and I am getting clarity.

The question is this: Would I rather believe the lie he told me than the truth?

Pain is pain, right? Whether it the truth that hurts or the lie to cover it up. It still hurts when you find out.

The truth.
I want the truth.
I deserve the truth.
He owes me the truth.

Doesn’t he?

The truth shall set us free… won’t it?

Posted in Infidelity, Uncategorized | 3 Comments

Missing You

I miss the touch of your skin.

I miss knowing that you were mine and I was yours.

I miss that certainty I felt in our coupledom.

I miss the routine of our Saturday errands and lunch after.

I miss thinking of you thinking of me.

I miss loving you and you loving me.

I miss knowing who you are.

I miss being a part of your life.

I miss you being a part of mine.

I miss having you to come home to.

I miss you coming home to me.

I miss us…

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A Day of Silence

It’s been so long since I have written a blog that I am not sure how to begin… Do I start with “Dear Readers” or “Hello Friends”? I don’t normally start my blogs with a salutation so why would I now?

Because it’s been six weeks since I’ve posted and several of you have reached out to me so I feel like I owe you an explanation…

Okay, so I don’t feel as if I “owe” an explanation but I am a writer. A writer that shares her life so it’s not a stretch to expect me to share what the last weeks have been like.

So I will share.

Just not today.

Today I want to talk about yesterday and my day of silence which I thought was appropriate as this blogger has been silent for the past six weeks (46 days to be exact).

I was baptized Catholic but wasn’t raised as such. The only religion in my house was violence and I did all I could to avoid becoming a lifetime member of that church. However, as an adult, I was grateful to my parents for giving me the tiniest of foundations in which to build on: Catholicism.

After I had my girls I found my way back to the Catholic Church. I became very involved: bible study, Sunday school teacher (6th graders!) and finally a Lector, a person who reads the Word to the congregation at Sunday Mass. I even sent the girls to Catholic school for a few years.

During that time I felt like I belonged to something. I felt spiritually connected and whole for the first time in my life. I loved my parish priest (who has since passed) and recall with great hilarity the time he said to my women’s group that it was Jesus‘s birthday and had we ever thought of baking him a cake?

Uh, no… But now I will. And I did.

The following week my girls and I made Jesus a homemade (no box cake for him!) birthday cake. I will never forget the look on Fr. Petosa’s face when we showed up with our short, heavy, lopsided two layered purple birthday cake with “Happy Birthday Jesus!” written in blue frosting on top. His expression was priceless. His kindness in eating a slice true to his character. I loved that man. He was the father I never really had.

After spending a several years at that parish I began to drift away. I had many reasons for doing so; Fr. Petosa passed away, the new priest was not one I felt close to and I became angry with God for allowing certain things to happen.

So, these past 12 years have been a challenge for me spiritually. I have sought out different avenues; even spoke to a priest from another parish all to no avail. It could be that whenever I think of the word “religion” I feel nauseated. I don’t know… just a thought.

Okay, I thought… Religion is out for me but spirituality is not. So, I started telling people that I was “Spiritual not Religious” and that is how I thought of myself, but what did that really mean? It meant that while I had no connection to anything remotely spiritual, I was not closed to the idea.

During this last year my lack of spiritual connection has been more evident than ever. I needed God or a higher power or something to come into my life in a way that was obvious! Okay, let me clarify… It was obvious to me that someone or something was working hard in my corner and that is why I am still alive today. I could see the work on my behalf but couldn’t “feel” the connection. However, I know that is on me.

Long story short–okay, not really–I have always been interested in Buddhism, meditation, karma, etc., I believe you get back what you put out. I have spent a lot of time in meditation… okay, trying to be in meditation but when it works… it works! The peace I feel is real and lasting. Unfortunately, like many things in my life that make me feel good, healthy and strong (hello yoga!), I would do it for a bit and then quit.

Having come through these last six weeks (46) days relatively healthy and whole has pushed me to acknowledge that I can no longer afford to exist without some kind of spiritual connection and practice in my life.

This awareness moved me to find a Buddhist temple near my home. I found it via www.meetup.com of all places. I saw that they (the temple not meetup) were having a one day retreat on mediation and Dharma on Saturday so I signed up for it.

And I went.

I got lost getting there but I didn’t give up. I actually called and got directions (he told me it was the building with two stone lions flanking it and lots of bamboo)! Yes, I was committed to going and seeing if Buddha was waiting for me so I drove around until I saw the bamboo.

What an amazing day. The first wonderful challenge was that it was to be a day of silence. Ahhh… just what my poor exhausted mind needed. A day of silence and focus. Focusing on letting go of thought. What a treat. I could feel the peace and serenity emanating from the Zen Master, heck I could feel it emanating from the bamboo!

It was one of those perfect Pacific Northwest Days of blue sky, sunshine and a light breeze. Our mediation practices lead us to walking in silence around the grounds. Sitting in silence in the forest on the softest carpet of moss I have ever experienced. We had a lovely lunch of “noble salad” and time to ourselves for reflection. There was an hour of yoga and then some discussion. We were allowed to speak during that time to ask/answer questions.

In the earlier part of the day I had two very physical experiences. As I was meditating I became teary. I felt lonely. As I acknowledged the feeling of loneliness the tears began to flow down my cheek and then the most wonderful thing happened. I could feel and “see” a man wearing a brown monk’s robe lean down and hold me, sending me the message that it is okay to feel lonely. It is okay to cry. So I did.

In case you didn’t realize it–there was no man there. Not physically anyway.

The second thing that happened during meditation was almost the opposite of the loneliness. I felt as if someone had come and put a ball of energy next to me. I could feel the shock of it and see the reddish brown color gyrating so fast that it looked as if it had spikes.

Both of these experiences were and are meaningful to me. I know that I am on the right path in terms of needing spirituality in my life. Did I find Buddha waiting for me at the temple?

No… According to the Master that’s not what you should be looking for. What you look for is the Buddha Nature within yourself.

I can dig it.

http://www.meetup.com/Zen-Buddhism-in-Renton/

 

 

 

Posted in Meditation | 4 Comments

Art work using a variety of mediums

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