Autumn Leaves in the Rain

Autumn Leaves In The Rain…

Let Us Dance… rambling thoughts …

October 20,
Life is a dance that I can’t seem to learn, a dance whose rhythm seems to change just when I think I recognize the song and my feet are starting to move without conscious thought and effort, as if the dance comes naturally.
THEN BAM!
The beat changes and I find myself on unfamiliar ground, or the earth moves and my feet become entangled and down I go.
Sometimes I crumple gracefully to the ground and then pick myself up and listen to the new beat and start again and no one notices the fall wasn’t part of the choreography.
Other times, it is almost like I have time traveled and been suddenly thrust into a new setting with no awareness of how I got there. I might have been waltzing in the sunlight along the mossy banks of a magical stream, a stream that sings to me, when I suddenly find myself in the middle of a busy intersection of New York City. Cars are whizzing by and splashing mud from the street onto my dress. There is a song around me that seems not to have any discernible melody and try as I might I cannot feel the vibration as anything but noise, painful noise. There are other people around me. They are whirling and twirling and swaying with such beauty that there is no way they are hearing what I am hearing. Why don’t they see my pain? They are oblivious to my fear and the danger I see.

I remember as a child being told I could not sing, and if I could not carry a tune or sing in key then I was positive I could not dance.
So I danced alone. I danced in my dreams. I even ballet danced on my toes. In my mind I could dance all sorts of dances. I could leap with grace. I even imagined dances made of anger. But I never ever danced in front of people. As I grew older I danced behind the barn. I danced in the moonlight.
I wish with all my heart that I could learn this dance of life, that I could hear the changes of the timing and the beat and the rhythm and move from one to the other effortlessly. I imagine a stage where I dance a ballet by the shore of an ancient lake to a melody of hope and desire, and then the lights on the stage dim and when they brighten again I am a tap dancer. I am making the music. I am tapping out the rhythm of my life with ease and joy. I can even imagine the “tap dancer me” kicking off her shoes and beginning to Hip Hop an interpretation of her life, complete with breaking, popping, locking and krumping.
I want to understand the moves and hear the sad notes with the certainty that joyous notes will follow. I want to be a master improvisational dancer.
I want to be the music.

Opaqueness

I watched it rain gently outside a window when the sunlight weakly peeked out and made the grasses sparkle.

I am grateful for the smile it brought to my soul.

August 29

Once upon a time as I wandered and wondered I met an old soul who told me I didn’t need to be right, that it didn’t matter if I understood, and that the Beatles were right about love. All I need is a heart full of grace and a soul generated by love. Oh I still seek spirituality and growth and though I might not actively seek answers I think that they come to me in ease like the trickling of rain as it seeps through the earth and forms aquifers. Maybe sometimes enlightenment is like a burst of fireworks but more often it is like the weathering of a bolder into grains of sand.

Robert Frost once said of acceptance:

Let the night be too dark for me to see

Into the future. Let what will be, be.

These Times are just so…. damn hard

Y’all know I don’t do a lot of political posts. I haven’t the strength and this is perhaps a failing.

I just muse about this old world.. I just feel if we walk in an honest path toward the Land of Goodness the way will lead us to an awakening of Spirit of such passion and delight whose depth has no words. Seems everyone would see it but that isn’t how it works. There is evil afoot and the path is a treacherous one and you will meet many people who will try and beguile you and dazzle you with their words, be they true or not, and if that doesn’t work they’ll just shape-shift and try a different tact and you might even think they’re your good old Granny who sure wouldn’t deceive you. Seems the path has grown more difficult lately and there are more Obstacles than usual. Take heed not to pause too long if your instinct says do a fast step. It’s even okay if you cover your ears and whistle some joyful tune to tune out the evil. Just keep moving along and if you see some fellow traveler who has stumbled and fallen in a mire of despair and succumbed to speaking in a voice not their own of hate and pain and defeat and fear just do a little jig and smile into their eyes and invite them to link arms and walk a while with you. You will recognize the victims and your heart will guide you. They will teach you. There is power and purity in love and do not allow your vision to be blurred by your mind. Listen, really listen to the angels in the wind and listen with curiosity and understanding. Don’t listen only to reply. Sometimes listen, not to the words alone, but to the scents and sounds that surround them.

Keep putting one foot in front of the other. I haven’t any answers to how to keep on the path but I do know the journey can be one of purpose and design and goodness and I trust in Life. I must not lose the Will. I know that the Land of Goodness isn’t a definite place or reward but is found alone the journey in changes we make like an added dollop of a color to a painting or whipped cream to strawberries or honeysuckle on a breeze. It is in the leaving trails of sparkle.

Last Days of Tulips

Last Days of Tulips…

May our hopes today be bigger than our fears

Wow! That’s a tall prayer. These times are troubling to me as my beliefs are tested and my spiritual strength needs more nurturing and tending than usual, as invasive species try to crowd out my joy and sap my heart of love. Went back and thought about how easy it would be to just fade away as a Dream is want to do. Well, that’s just not my style, not an option.
I have deep conversations with my 4 year old granddaughter Reilly Marie who reminds me daily the true meaning of Love. She says I can summon a good dragon who will flap her wings and blow the worries away. Once she was having a crisis in the car and said she just couldn’t get calm. She was sobbing. Violet opened the sun roof in the car and in a moment the spring breeze and scent of flowers came in. All of a sudden Reilly started laughing and exclaimed, “The wind came in and calmed me. I couldn’t do it by myself.”

I think all of us have moments when we judge ourselves harshly and mercilessly, and this leads to fear and anguish and ultimately leaves us drained and exhausted. I try and remember that the road is not a straight line and often fraught with obstacles, many of our own making.

It is important that we be gentle to ourselves and love ourselves and accept that we are going to stumble and fall and even lose our way sometimes as the path isn’t always clear and the light sometimes dims and darkness falls.

Just remember that we are not alone and that there are others who too feel this same anxiety. Just keep hope alive and keep dancing onward even if some of the moves seem awkward and out of step.


Love, Light and Laughter,
Zahn

Feather

“A feather is a sign from the angels. It is a response to a question, a thought or an emotion. It’s their way of saying; “You are loved and are being guided through this by the angelic realm.”

― Eileen Anglin

I was walking yesterday when I chanced to look up and saw a small white feather being buffeted about by the wind and dancing to some mystical music that played only for it. I believe in magic and I knew it was there with a special message for me, and so I stopped and watched it with a smile. At long last it drifted down to the ground and settled just long enough for me to squat down and notice its translucency and snap a photo before taking off on the breeze and rising high over the trees and disappearing. You may laugh at my whimsy and think me silly, but my heart soared and my hope renewed and I walked on with a smile.

New Year

Milkweed Seeds…

As 2019 comes to a close my mind wanders back in time. That’s not always a good thing, and definitely a challenge to wander only in the sweet scented meadows and to skirt the memories of dark shadows of the storms of ill decisions and desperation and pain and sorrows.

Oh I know all the clichés about the hills and the valleys, the light and the dark, the sorrow and the joy, the ups and the downs. I know that without the darkness I cannot see the stars. I know that Life is not a straight line. I know that there is a purpose unto heaven, but sometimes my faith falters.

Disappointment and shame can lead to self loathing and that is a pain that seizes the heart in a vise and squeezes the life right out of it.

As a child I was once told that I didn’t deserve nice things. I had been given a new umbrella and left it at Memorial Stadium when I went to see the Ringling Brothers Circus. It was a beautiful umbrella with a dark green and blue tartan design and I was so proud to have it. Losing it was painful to me and frustrating that it was only myself I had to blame, not to mention the punishment of being told I didn’t deserve nice things. There is a part of me that believes this may be true.

I had and still have, a propensity to get scattered and to lose or break things. People have often taken this as a lack of appreciation on my part, for if I truly wanted to be mindful and careful I could be. Maybe that is true but my heart tells me that there is more to it than that because I have spent a great deal of time and energy trying to be mindful. It works for a while, but sooner or later I get complacent and that leads to exuberance without forethought and the next thing I know I have dropped my camera in the river, ruining it forever, or carelessly said something or did something that hurt the people I love.

I have been blessed in so many ways and have so much to be grateful for, and I am. But that doesn’t stop the feelings of worthlessness. I wish I believed in absolution of sin, but I do not. I believe there can only be acceptance and that seems to elude me. Maybe there can be atonement or a way to make amends, but there is not a way to simply bundle up the sadness and pain I have caused into an old burlap sack and tie it with a string and fling it out into the Universe to be consumed in a ball of fire, or bury it deep within the Earth where it might change and bring forth new life. Alas, there is no place to put it where it couldn’t be found, or any way to destroy it forever.

So I will begin again with resolutions to be mindful and to accept myself and to try and be a better person. Hope will come again, as it always does, but until then may I learn to accept my weaknesses and my foibles and to ever strive to hold my face to the Light and walk toward a vision of a brighter day, and recover that feeling of certainty that sometimes comes that lifts me and reassures me that I am loved and that every layer of who I am serves a positive purpose unto Heaven.

Thanks for reading my musings and rants and being my friends. I love y’all 💜💜💜

Haunts of Past

“We can never obtain peace in the outer world until we make peace with ourselves.”

― Dalai Lama XIV

I traveled to old haunts today and memories of sadness and joy and pain and love swirled around me like a mist. I tried not to think of specifics but of feelings and perceptions. I walked in the mist and felt the colors and the textures of the cloak of my yesterdays as they blended until they melded into a form I could accept. I knew I needed to come to peace with my past, for I knew I needed to let go of old resentments. I needed to forgive myself for so many transgressions, for then and only then could the beauty of the past shine through like sun through the fog and I could find the good and embrace the lessons. The cloak that once felt rough and heavy began to lighten to an almost translucent and soft shimmer and I wrapped myself gently in it.

Searching

Photo is closeup of a chicken. When I showed it to my dear friend Mik he laughed and said I was the only one he knows who would see the beauty in a chicken. Don’t think thats true but he made me smile.

You and I will meet again

When we’re least expecting it

One day in some far off place

I will recognize your face

I won’t say goodbye my friend

For you and I will meet again

~Tom Petty

Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.

Sitting in the quiet and enjoying it I am reminded of something I heard once that said people aren’t so much afraid of death as they are afraid of being forgotten. I feel an urgency to put my thoughts down so that years and years from now someone will pick it up and really want to know what thoughts I had, not because they are profound, but because they want to know who I was. What purpose can there be in living if not to search for understanding. Without the search days pass one by one mindlessly. The quest is all about the journey. It gives us hope. It need not be frantic or furtive. Just keep your eyes open and your heart warm. Sometimes it will slap you hard in the face like a biting wind on a northern slope. Other times it will seep into your soul with hardly a ripple. Be vulnerable

SADNESS WITH A SMILE

My mind keeps drifting to the concept of sadness. All my life sadness has followed me like a shadow. I have tried all sorts of ways to elude it. I have tried to hide from it. When I was a child I used to think if I could make myself small and be really quiet and still and hold my breath I would be almost invisible and maybe sadness wouldn’t find me. Sometimes I thought if I could make myself big and terrible, like Oz, sadness would fear me too much to come around. Sadness always found me. Sadness hurt me. It took my family from me. It took my innocence and my joy. It would sometimes so consume me that I thought there would be no ME left. Sometimes I almost let it. Sometimes I began to welcome the thought of NO ME.

Then lately this idea that sadness need not be a bad thing has taken root in my mind and in trying to explore how something so desolate and painful could have a place in my life I am trying to accept what it brings. There is a polarity in the universe. Night needs day. Summer needs winter. Life cannot be without death. Maybe happiness needs sadness, not just for contrast but for harmony. Maybe instead of being afraid of sadness or trying to bully sadness I should just accept it as having a place in my universe. When I think of happiness I think of something light and fluffy like cumulus clouds on a summer day, or pink cotton candy, or meringue kisses. Happiness is easy. Happiness is a delicate and wondrous flower.

What if I could stand outside sadness and see it without judgment? What if I could stand apart and look at sadness as something that happens to me and is not me. Would I see that when sadness comes to me I am allowed to touch the bottom of my very being? Could I then view sadness as something of beauty? Sadness has a depth to it that happiness does not and in fact it is our judgment that keeps us from understanding. Sadness is sad because we do not like it, because we do not want to be in it, because we reject it. What if I could see my sadness as something of beauty that gives meaning to my joy? What if I could see sadness as a beautiful flower too, bringing beauty and harmony? Wouldn’t sadness become a part of happiness and allow me to have a richness of color and texture and a depth to my happiness that it would not have otherwise? When people laugh who have had great sadness their laughter has richness to it like you can hear the sadness is in the laughter too.

How wonderful if I could do all these things. How at peace I might be. I think if I could believe in this I might be closer to the understanding I seek..

Let Us Dance

October 20, Sassafras Leaf & Lichen Rock

Life is a dance that I can’t seem to learn, a dance whose rhythm seems to change just when I think I recognize the song and my feet are starting to move without conscious thought and effort, as if the dance comes naturally.

THEN BAM!

The beat changes and I find myself on unfamiliar ground, or the earth moves and my feet become entangled and down I go.

Sometimes I crumble gracefully to the ground and then pick myself up and listen to the new beat and start again and no one notices the fall wasn’t part of the choreography.

Other times, it is almost like I have time traveled and been suddenly thrust into a new setting with no awareness of how I got there. I might have been waltzing in the sunlight along the mossy banks of a magical stream, a stream that sings to me, when I suddenly find myself in the middle of a busy intersection of New York City. Cars are whizzing by and splashing mud from the street onto my dress. There is a song around me that seems not to have any discernible melody and try as I might I cannot feel the vibration as anything but noise, painful noise. There are other people around me. They are whirling and twirling and swaying with such beauty that there is no way they are hearing what I am hearing. Why don’t they see my pain? They are oblivious to my fear and the danger I see.

I remember as a child being told I could not sing, and if I could not carry a tune or sing in key then I was positive I could not dance.

So I danced alone. I danced in my dreams. I even ballet danced on my toes. In my mind I could dance all sorts of dances. I could leap with grace. I even imagined dances made of anger. But I never ever danced in front of people. As I grew older I danced behind the barn. I danced in the moonlight.

I wish with all my heart that I could learn this dance of life, that I could hear the changes of the timing and the beat and the rhythm and move from one to the other effortlessly. I imagine a stage where I dance a ballet by the shore of an ancient lake to a melody of hope and desire, and then the lights on the stage dim and when they brighten again I am a tap dancer. I am making the music. I am tapping out the rhythm of my life with ease and joy. I can even imagine the “tap dancer me” kicking off her shoes and beginning to Hip Hop an interpretation of her life, complete with breaking, popping, locking and krumping.

I want to understand the moves and hear the sad notes with the certainty that joyous notes will follow. I want to be a master improvisational dancer.

I want to be the music.