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Archive for the ‘decisions’ Category

00 -finding pinecones-

Two Sunday mornings ago when the rain finally stopped, I ventured outside. Fallen branches greeted me, a bit embarrassed to be on the grass.

That’s because three Tuesdays ago a fierce Westerly Wind roared over the water, ripped past our town, raged up the hill, right through and around MacMurtree the tree. Try as Mac might to be flexible, the Wind won the wrestle, ripping off branches that crashed to the ground.

02-findingpinecones

And nearby those branches, all over the yard, I found pinecones. Knocked loose from their limbs, still tightly coiled and sealed in sweet sap.

I felt sorrow to see them sprawled on the lawn because I remember last summer, how I sat on my picnic blanket, witnessing dainty gold-dusted fairy seeds fluttering free.

I herded the pinecones into a pile. They didn’t know what to do next, stunned anxious at their unexpected separation.

“How are we supposed to seed forests?” they cried, rolling around on the ground in dismay. “We’re supposed to stay on our limbs and open up slowly. We’re not ready for this!!”

“I don’t know,” I replied, feeling their angst.“Come up on the porch. Come sit with me and we’ll figure it out.”

03-finding-on-porch

While they gathered themselves and their thoughts, I ran inside and brought back a book. I thought they could use some encouraging words.

Pinecones - 1

“I know you’re not where you thought you should be. That means your Plans must become entirely new. You’re gonna need Courage for that!”

Pinecones - 3

The pinecones lined up to listen, and we all wondered what words might spill forth from the pages to bolster their spirits.

Pinecones - 5

I fluttered pages at random to see what the old book hoped these friends might find out. A bird pulled up a fencepost to listen.

Pinecones - 7 bird

“Give us, O give us, the person who sings at her work. I found words by Thomas Carlyle. One is scarcely sensible of fatigue whilst marching to music.”

The bird whistled Yes!

“What song might you hear in your heart?” I asked the pinecones.

“Lollipop, lollipop!” one pinecone piped up after the briefest of pause.

“We are the Champions my friends” sang another with lyrics.

Pinecones - 10 text

After the singing slowed down I read further down on the page.

“No pinecone is born into this world, whose work is not born with her.

Pinecones - 11

“Like the tree seeds within me!” said this pinecone who then sat up straighter.

Pinecones - 5

I sat up straighter, too, realizing that Book’s favorite words in her pages weren’t all that these pinecones needed to know.

“Do any of you remember the wonder of where you come from?” I asked the dear lovely tree seeds.

Pinecones - 6

“We come from our mother, MacMurtree, a Deodar Cedar. She’s at least a century old, probably more,” said the eldest pinecone.

“We each belong to the Deodar family. In Sanskrit that’s devadāru, which means wood of the Gods.”

Pinecones - 12

“Why that means me! Daughter of the tree gods. Oh my! I better get up!” this one said out loud to herself.

Pinecones - 13

“Imagine the many trees waiting inside us!” said that one out loud.“There must be a way to get our Possibilities into the world.”

“I have an idea,” I said.“I have friends all over the planet. What if I put you each in a box and ask the Mail to take you someplace new? That will be like the Wind carrying your seeds, except this time you get to go along and see where they land. You’ll meet the most amazing people!”

“You can ask them to bring me inside where it’s warm,” said one pinecone.

“And put me on a table by a window so I can see where I am,” said another.

“I would enjoy spending the holidays with a family,” added that one.

“And,” I said,“as their fireplaces heat up their homes, your wings will unwind. And your fairy seeds will unfold from inside. Just like they would have next summer if you had stayed here.”

Their excitement was mounting as plans started to form.

“And perhaps, just perhaps,” I suggested, “they will know a good place with soil and sunshine and some magic. And on some sunny day, when a soft breeze is blowing, they’ll toss your seeds into the air and away they will float, just as they should. Just as they would have, but somewhere exotic and fun. It’s a bit avante garde, I suppose.

“How about it?”

Well, it took us a week to figure it out. We gathered up boxes. I found my address book. And seven brave pinecones volunteered for adventure.

Pinecones - 15-inbox

Into boxes they jumped. Tucked in with some branches. And a note with instructions.  P.S. Watch out for the sap, we said.

Not everyone wanted to travel. And that is just fine. One for sure is staying with me. Another one asked to be strapped by the birdhouse so she can try spreading her wings in the spring.

And this group, well they’re having fun talking. So they’re hanging out on the porch for a little while longer. They don’t mind the rain.

Pinecones - 16-rain

Check your mailbox!!

Here’s the wordless musical version:

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We've moved!

We’ve moved!

Is this mine, was my October question. This place with the blue door in the meadow. This cottage with the piano inside. This yard with swings in three trees.

It takes courage to say Yes to your life when it shows up with a gift without warning. Like love at first sight. Your mind can come up with a long list of reasons (and fears) to say No.

It’s too much. It sounds hard. I’m not ready.

Or you can open your mind by hearing the thoughts of your heart.

It’s what I always imagined…in detail. It feels like a gift. I’m singing silly songs I’m so happy. It feels like home and we’re not even there yet. I believe I can do this! I will trust in the process…and outcome…and future.

Then give it some time. Take some deep breaths. Accept the October invitation. Wait for the November answer.

Yes. Yes. Yes!

Uncross your fingers and slap a high five!

Pack your boxes and move! Unpack. Bake a turkey. Give thanks. Begin to get settled. Add a tree. Hang some lights. Do the dance of a happy December.

Then let the adventure begin!!

lights-house

 

 

 

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emotikin-bluedoor600

Blue doors have been my thing for a very long time. I’ve always claimed blue as my favorite color, sometimes periwinkle, sometimes cornflower. But blue. I’ve never had a blue door though I’ve painted blue walls.

I have a blue door in the alpine meadow of wildflowers where I go when I meditate really deep. It stands there, no walls, in the middle of the meadow, as if I’m supposed to go through.

But I couldn’t. I would sit down with my back against the door. I heard a laughing invitation to just walk around the side, that I didn’t have to go through. But I couldn’t. I was stumped.

Another time, not long ago, I landed in my meadow out of the blue. I opened the door. Beyond it was a dark midnight sky full of stars. I stepped through and soared through the stars for a bit, tethered to the doorway by a silver cord. I didn’t stay long.

A few weeks ago, I finally stepped all the way through, not just that door but a whole series of doors. I erased some hard parts of the past, walked down paths now easier to see and to choose. And I heard, “Trust and believe. Expect miracles.”

I didn’t expect what happened the very next day. I saw my blue door, live and in person, around the bend in an old country road, in front of a cottage for sale, with a tree swing out front. I screeched the car to a halt and pointed. “Look! A Blue Door!”  We sat there in awe. Then we got out of the car.

bluedoor-sq-600

bluedoor-opening600This blue door beckoned. It seemed to lead to a land of bliss and enchanted forests and talking trees and one friendly sit-on-your-shoe kind of squirrel. The cottage holds a piano, built-in bookshelves, and wrap-around windows with a view to the sea. Only a cane in the corner would have made it feel like our own Miracle on 34th Street. It seemed to say, here is your doorway to heaven. You’re welcome. Come in.

So the question is whether this cottage for sale, this land of bliss, this tree swing, this door, this meadow with room for a horse and some chickens, is supposed to be ours.  It sure feels like a soul sign. It sure feels like a miracle.

I do know, at the least, that this real-life blue door is a sign from my soul to pay attention to miracles. To pay attention to gifts that come out of the blue. To open the door and walk through, with courage not fear. With hope, not with doubt. With wonder and more wonder and more wonder yet, and some patience to wait for the answer to “I wonder what this all means?”

I don’t know the answer. Not yet. We’re doing some work called Logistics and Research. That hard human work that makes miracles happen for real. Or at least invites the result. Accepting the invitation to a miracle takes as much courage and work as you can muster, it seems.

And I’m waiting to see if the sign was a “Yes, this is your home.” Or if it means something else. Trust and believe can mean anything. But I do believe in blue doors. And I believe that miracles might have a different answer than the one I first thought of. I don’t know the answer. Not yet. I just hope I am asking all the right questions so the right answer will come when it’s time.

Trust and believe.

Fingers crossed.

 

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Do I dive?

Do I dive?
Do I dare?

Decisions, decisions.

The long view of diving in

Decided.  It’s a good day to jump!

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