Author Archives: florazahn

Dreams of Faith

Photo… Blue Columbine

I wrote this a few years ago but wanted to share my thoughts again. I still believe them and they still give me comfort.

Alice laughed. “There’s no use trying,” she said. “One can’t believe impossible things.” “I daresay you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was your age, I always did it half an hour a day. Why, sometimes, I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”–Lewis Carroll

April 20
I woke up early this morning, having had the strangest and loveliest dream. I wanted to write it down before it disappeared, as dreams are prone to do. Sometimes they begin to fade almost as soon as you have dreamed them, like an etch-a-sketch creation that is jostled about.
I was in a meadow by a creek and there were flowers everywhere of course, This wasn’t a strange place. It was a place where I have gone all my life. I have dreamed of it so often that sometimes I feel I am friends with each blade of grass.
I love to lay myself down in the softness of the earth when I am weary. I can almost hear the sighing of the grasses as they silently speak to me. They caress and comfort and I always feel welcome.
“That’s a good girl. Just breathe deeply and with every exhale let your burdens go, for you are safe. Close your eyes and trust your faith, for there is nothing to fear.”
I love to breathe in the exotic scents that delight me. The flowers surround me and though they produce a perfume of pleasure I can still smell each individual scent and each one is as an old friend. Then they swirl and blend and I laugh at the effect their melding together has. This time when I opened my eyes I was greeted by all the beauty of my meadow, with all sorts of flowers, in every imaginable color and some that defied explanation for there were no words for them as they existed outside and beyond even the imagination.
Tonight they spoke to me of possibilities. The full blossoms went slightly out of focus and the buds became sharp and clearer than I can ever remember. It was as if they wanted me to see them as thoughts and possibilities yet unrealized. They spoke to me of hope, of purpose, and I was filled with joy and the realization that I need not worry for everything was unfolding as it is meant to and that all I had to do was bear witness.
As the dream world begins to blend into day I can hear the birds greeting the day with song and the ducks slowing awakening one by one with anticipation. The sun is rising and the sky has begun to lighten and cast pink all around and the dew glistens and sparkles and the colors reflect upon the waters.
May each of us see the emerging possibilities of today with eager abandon and without trepidation. Let us see the world reborn in every moment with faith and the surety that all is as it was meant to be and all is with purpose and desire and direction.


Snow is still falling on my part of the world. The River sees so many changes and in winter perhaps the most.
The water beneath is frozen and dark and occasionally air trapped in lower layers bubbles to the surface, only to be trapped in the ice again.
Old leaves get caught in the ice and as more snow falls they get pushed deeper or as the surface begins to melt they can be seen close to the surface. It seemed like a metaphor for life.
When we first see someone we see what is on the surface. It is, after all, our first impression and sometimes when I think about what is beneath the surface the word “lurks” comes to my mind. Maybe I am getting that from watching too many scary movies. It just seems that the unseen is often portrayed as being evil. In fact I find Truth often lurks beneath the surface, and not knowing what the Truth is can frighten us. We fear what we cannot see or understand. This works both ways. I mean we are often reluctant to let people see beneath our surfaces for fear what they see will be unappreciated or misinterpreted. Maybe some are simply unsure that what is there is worth seeing.
Sometimes we just need to muster up the courage to look at the underlying layers, or find the courage to soften the opaqueness of the surface of ourselves and allow others a glimpse. The ego is a fragile thing. Sometimes we hide our true selves beneath the surface and only show what we think others want to see, or what we wished were the Truth. That not only can be deceptive, it can also be dishonest and lonely. For a long time I felt as if I wandered unseen in my life, cloaked in a disguise. I could convince myself that it was a choice and maybe it was for a long time, so long that I realized one day that I was lost beneath the surface and I was alone. I hadn’t looked the lady in the mirror in the eyes or taken her photograph in a very long time.
I desired to find self-acceptance and then perhaps to take off the cloak of shallow perception and be simply me and other people could take it or leave it. I am still working on it. Sometimes I like what I see and want the whole world to see it. Then other times I feel shame that I have grown so little spiritually and want to crawl under my bed and curl up. Course on my sail boat there is no place to hide, certainly no bed to hide under. It is as if I want to get it perfect before I present it to the world and Lord that ain’t about to happen any time soon.
I hope you enjoy my photographs and remember, “a life lived in fear is a life half lived.” That comes from one of my favorite movies, Ballroom Dancing. I know that I will not give up. I know there is a purpose unto heaven and if I falter in fear, or forget that just because I find myself in unfamiliar territory it doesn’t mean I am lost. I must gather my courage. I must remember that Love conquers all. If I am very still I can feel this incredible cosmic energy all around me, and it urges me on. I will not lower myself to pity, but a little self-compassion might help. So let us cut some slack and be kind to one another, including ourselves.

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.
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.


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.

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,


“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.


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