Note From Self:

Unwanted Must Be Allowed, for Wanted to Be Received

"Sometimes our physical friends express their desire for a less diverse Universe. They long for a place where there are not so many unwanted things, a place where more things are exactly as they prefer them to be. And we always explain that you did not come forth into this physical experience wanting to take all of the experiences that exist and whittle them down to a handful of good ideas upon which all of you agree, for that would lead to endedness, which cannot be. This is an expanding Universe, and all things must be allowed. In other words, for you to understand and experience what you desire, you must understand that which you do not desire, for, in order to be able to choose and focus, both must be present and understood." ~ Those Folks All About Focus


Source Knows

It's kinda crazy to witness metamorphoses of "truth" occurring around me. I watch, without judgment, myself and others in my life coming to know Who-We-Really-Are while slowly shedding the larval layers that have insulated us from a world ready to dictate what is right and wrong.

I have nothing short of thankful appreciation, though, for the contrast and resistance of outside judgments when they arrive because nothing short of a huge desire is birthed within me to be as authentically self-defined as possible. The quest for true freedom. And so, with the aid of the All-Knowing Source that adores me, life falls into place moment to moment in so many wonderful ways when I consciously surrender to Its transformative power.

For example:

For a very long time, I have been wanting to do "energy" work (but let's call it play or Rockin' the Cocoon). Seeking, in a word, balance. I do a great deal on my own but I know the power of co-creating. I have been wanting a teacher, facilitator and friend that could 'read' me. For lack of a better phrase, get to the "deeper truth" within me. I've been dreaming of moving somewhere which would make finding someone possible while believing nothing remotely like I envision could be found here. Obviously, my desire was much stronger than my belief because the All-Knowing came through BIG TIME.

Here ~ in my little Mayberry R.F.D. ~ I have found her. Not many know of her
work seeing her outer persona as only a physical therapist. I delightfully think of her as my meta-physical therapist. At her request, the work is to remain anonymous, on-going and free (I must be doing something right). So the "truth" of her is to remain unknown as the "truth" of me continues to expand. Love it!!!

Dear Source,
You ARE Good!

Rooting the Passion


Ergo Her Ego

In honor of the momentous occasion in New York's history, I would love to share the story of my first Gay Pride parade back in the early '90's:

I am standing on the sidewalks of Seattle which are filling with an arrayed demographic. Young, old, male, female, gay and otherwise. Like any good parade, there are signs, flags and children on shoulders. My child included. I have no expectations when I arrive. I am clueless. I go to support my friend that I love and others like him. When the parade begins, it is most apparent that we are celebrating sexual self-expression. The parade is fascinating. It hearkens back to the bawdy Greek festivals discussed in my classical literature classes, though, I admit to myself, I doubt any Grecian ever wore a phallic costume with a pair of Chucks.

In my fascination, I am not paying attention to my immediate surroundings which holds a short buff man dressed in clown drag trying to get my attention. He finally does when he bounces his huge balloon breasts against me. I just look at him stunned more by my careless inattentiveness than his behavior. He cuts me a look then steps back into the street, gestures to the crowd and rudely says to them, She must be straight.

I am crestfallen.

In my assessment of the scene, all sorts of things cross my mind. First being, I am here to support you and I would never use He must be gay to demean you no matter what you have done to me...seriously, my thoughts race over judgment faster than the biker dudes in pink feathers and leather race around the floats.

I guess, in the moments after the clown continues on his way, a handsome older gentlemen begins reading my thoughts. He approaches me and in the most tender voice of any woman I've ever known says, Don't worry Sweetheart, I promise, we aren't all like that. I thank him and watch him make his way through the crowded sidewalk with his partner hand-in-hand and what seems to be his children and grandchildren.

The grace of it all is not lost to me. What a beautiful thing it is that I came to support him and he ends up supporting me.

You cannot get sick enough to help sick people get better. You cannot get poor enough
to help poor people thrive. It is only in your thriving that you have anything to offer
anyone. If you're wanting to be of an advantage to others, be as tapped in, turned in,
turned on as you can possibly be.


Years ago I did a book tour that brought me to Eugene, Oregon, where my sister and her husband and their daughter live. They came to my reading at a bookstore. My Virgo niece Jasper was seven years old at the time. I was surprised and delighted when she heckled me several times during my talk, always with funny and good-natured comments that added to the conviviality of the moment and entertained everyone in attendance. Who said Virgos are well-behaved to a fault? Your assignment this week is to be inspired by my niece: With wit and compassion, disrupt the orderly flow of any events that could use some smart agitation. ~ Spin Cycle


A Good Day to Remember Mraz Rockin' the Red*

I had never been to the Red Rocks in Colorado before. When I mentioned the awesomeness of it yesterday morning at coffee, Ann -- who makes a delicious sugar-free Amaretto latte -- tells me she had been as a child, sometime around '64, with her family camping in the area when the Beatles played the amphitheater. I'm thinking that concert may have been the only one to top the one we trekked over to see. I'm still enjoying it via some really crappy video footage which was partly due to my deeply conditioned dance reflexes. Hey, when a move hits ya', you gotta groove. So when I post, be warned, take a little Dramamine before hitting the 'play' button. Anyway, for those of you who've not seen this gorgeous place, I will FAIL to describe it...SO...plan B:


I know, right? If you can imagine, there is another huge rock formation to the right mirroring the large descending one (or ascending depending on your prospective) in the picture. I was struck with this vision of sitting in the cupped hands of God. Beyond the stage of the amphitheater, the city of Denver nearly twinkled as brightly as the stars overhead. It was such a clear and perfect night even the constellations got in on the action. Most notably ---> Aries (that's a high-5 to my beautiful babydoll & my world traveler ;). We had nosebleed seats and they were still the best in the house. Particularly since no one's nose bled and the altitude made me feel expansive and powerful. Of course, the fact that Mraz looked about an inch and a half high probably had something to do with that. I could have smooshed him between my index and thumb...now there's a photo op I missed...@#$%#.

Anyway, there were several moments when he sang that I worried those cupped hands would get the urge to applaud and we'd all be toast...but what a way to go! There is an angelic androgyny to his vocals that one might argue is heard in Heaven. Since I don't enjoy arguing, I'll just remain bias in my personal views of my muse. I do want to give him a shout-out for The Sunshine Song (a new tune -- and how nice of you to stop and introduce yourself) and somehow magically cuing the wind before singing Summer Breeze (a personal favorite of mine) and dusting off Dear Anna. Wow. Some songs are like fine wine. That one is intoxicating...of course, I could be mistaking it for whatever the guy next to me was smoking.

Mraz's best friend/roommate/brother-from-another-mother, Bushwalla aka the Optimist aka Prince of Polyester, was MC for the night and came out and sang a few of his originals. If I had my way, Bushwalla would have opened but I'm not in charge of such things. He's just the good kind of WEIRD and could be my brother-from-another-mother. Luckily, I have my own Ohioan with an even more impressive 'fro and talent to match. Enough of all that. If you get a chance, GO to a LIVE show and grab some Hemp ice cream while you're there! Now, I'm off to make some Really Crappy Camera Productions of the evening with crappy being the operant word...and that word is the perfect antonym to describe the evening.

*So much for that DVD 'behind the scenes' footage emphatically
proclaiming there would be no red on this tour.


Why Am I Not Surprised?

In past post, I think I've made it


Love Conquers All

You will throughout your life experience situations and circumstances that hold the seed for fear, do not allow yourself one moment to be victimized. For when you encounter that which holds the seeds of fear, it is an indicator that you need to stoke the fires of your own self love. Love conquers all. It takes that which on human accounts would be failure or terrible and transforms it into a powerful statement that fear and its master is only an illusion. Light does not necessarily change the obstacles of your path, but it gives you the ability to see your way around them. Speak your self-love in conviction, enthusiasm and zeal. Hold the light of self-love high above that all whom you encounter will bask in. ~ Ships of Song



Life Is Good


For each child enslaved
lives a multitude of children
seeking to free them.


For each man homeless
lives a multitude of men
working to shelter them.


For each woman dishonored
lives a multitude of women
gathering to nurturer them.


For each dark evil*
- that which has
separated itself from Love --
lives a greater good:
A multitude of souls desiring
to share their Light...their Love.

*thought, word or action


Cosmic Computations & Contemplations

"If you want to meet God face to face, if you want to interact with the Divine, open your eyes and your mind and see the world for what it truly is. God in physical form.

God manifests itself through your consciousness, expresses through your heart and heals through your life.

You are one with God because you are able to comprehend, interact with and utilize the One Mind, the One Thought and the One Soul.

Consciousness is the presence of God.

The degree to which one is Conscious is the degree that one participates in All That Is.

Consciousness is the ability to comprehend. Consciousness is the ability to which one can assimilate awareness.

Comprehend joy. Comprehend love. Comprehend peace. Comprehend tranquility. Comprehend prosperity. Comprehend freedom. Comprehend that you have been called forth by the mind of God."

Ships of Song


A Soul's Journey

Like Jack,
clambering the heights
of his monstrous beanstalk,
motivated by hunger,
she stretches her soul
towards the sky
pulling the weight
of her body
~ its emptiness
so unbearably heavy
as to conspire
with gravity ~
tugging it through
the winding vines
of cloud and star
past an ardent moon
inspiring her on.




I've just finished a rough draft of a short script. It's no more than 5 minutes in length after shooting, I'm certain. The equates to roughly 5 pages of text which is dominated by what is known as white space.


"Okay, That's It."

"The fact that modern physics, the manifestation of an extreme specialization of the rational mind, is now making contact with mysticism, the essence of religion and manifestation of an extreme specialization of the intuitive mind, shows very beautifully the unity and complementary nature of the rational and intuitive modes of consciousness; of the yang and the yin." ~ Fritjof Capra


L.O.A. 101

"The night Max wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind and another.
His mother called him “WILD THING!” and Max said “I’LL EAT YOU UP!” so he was sent to bed without eating anything." ~ Maurice Sendak

P.S. Max's story ends happily...but he does have to use his imagination first.


Frank In Sense From Her?*

In Frederick Buechner's book On the Road with the Archangel, the star is the archangel Raphael. This supernatural helper has a tough gig: gathering the prayers of human beings and delivering them to God. Here's how he describes the range of pleas he hears: "There are prayers of such power that you might say they carry me rather than the other way around. There are prayers so apologetic and shamefaced and half-hearted that they all but melt away in my grasp like sad little flakes of snow. Some prayers are very boring."

Compose a prayer**that's so powerful and entertaining that it could thrill an archangel. ~ Pop Quiz

Dear All-That-Is of Which-I-Am,

I pray You'll allow me to ramble:

Where to start? Hmmmm? Oh, do You remember the time when I was 6 years old staring into the sweltering Sun demanding that You show Yourself to me and I didn't go blind like my brother said I would or that time I was super sacrilegious taking communion unbaptized at Mary's church and found a dollar on the floor then put it in the collection plate? It was in those moments - I swear to YOU -- when I knew We were good. That is, always will be, the prayer: We are good. And in 'good' I mean, when the
We becomes simply me, I get to question You. I get to doubt You, I get to dismiss You. Basically, I get to carry on like a spoiled child. I get to Woe-Is-Me. I get the whole-nine-yards of freewill. And in 'good' I mean. I get to love You. I get to tithe to You. I get to see You in Everything. And in seeing You there, I am present to the You in Here. The We, again. I get to acknowledge myself as creator ~ a damn good one particularity when it involves drama ~ and I get to acknowledge my freedom to gracefully unlocked any creation I've managed to conjure into reality with your help (btw, we need to get working on that comedy). I pray for continued awareness and consciousness. I pray this really awesome dress I love goes on sale. And, of course, world peace. I pray people come to understand that You/Consciousness cannot be contained within the pages of a book and that Your greatest desire is to fully manifest Who-You-Are aka Love. You will fully manifest when we understand Who-We-Are to You. Yours eyes, Your ears, Your mouth...allow me to be sacrilegious one more time (and throw in $10 bucks because I'm not sure we're square on the aforementioned $***) ...we educate You. We are the Tree of Knowledge with each Me-leaf potentially (it is always a choice) invaluable conduits of Love and compassion and all that yummy stuff that seeps through the pores of war, fills the stomachs of famine and pierces the eyes of hopelessness. We tell you how it's all looking, sounding and holding up down here in this microscopic hotbed of Beingness. And, You-As-Love, so generous as to be unquantifiable, take our information, refine it, purify it and send back in the holy ways of serendipity, dreams, inspiration and deja vu. But because we aren't always that great at paying attention, You consistently fall back on Your "Heavy Hitters"...yes...the glorious little babies. Those cuddly little clean slates. God, You're good!!! And by 'good' I mean Full of Grace offering, unconditionally, Divine Reprieve. So, I guess, really and mostly, I pray for Your continued hope in Us...yeah. Keep Us good.


P.S. I'm really not as strange as I seem. Ha...

*My grandmother is about to turn over in her grave.
**Origin (of Prayer): 1250–1300; Middle English preiere < Old French < Medieval Latin precāria, noun use of feminine of precārius obtained by entreaty, equivalent to prec- (stem of prex ) prayer + -ārius -ary; compare precarious ~ Dictionary.com
***That was a joke. I live in abundance!


Like Jack,
clambering the heights
of his monstrous beanstalk,
motivated by hunger,
she stretches her soul
towards the sky
pulling the weight of her body
-- its emptiness so unbearably heavy
as to conspire with gravity--
tugging it through the winding
vines of cloud and stars
past an ardent moon
inspiring her on.



I have a tickle in my brain. And it keeps making the corners of my mouth point toward the heavens. ~Jeb Dickerson