Greetings from Florida. Moving towards Wholeness.

This is probably the longest lapse between posts. Please forgive me as I've been very busy moving, and settling in Florida. I wasn't sure if I could even write from here, as I wasn't feeling inspired to say anything. But today I woke up feeling clear and thought I'd reconnect.

Although I've been supported in this move, I can't say that I haven't had challenges. Flying with two cats was intense. My shoulders hurt for days from carrying Max, who weighs a good 14 pounds, and Bradley who, thank God, only weighs about 8 pounds--along with my big bag, my computer, my jacket, and a 6 pound bag of cat food. Then, going through security, I was asked to take both cats out of the carry case, and carry them through in my arms. "You've got to be kidding," I said, " I can't physically carry both cats without dropping one of the poor stressed animals who would be fighting to escape." After several minutes of consultation with the manager, the security person allowed me to take one cat out of the carry case at a time, and come back for the other one. Whew! Sanity prevailed.

When I finally arrived at Orlando at 10:30 pm, I found that I couldn't rent the car I reserved to drive the hour-and-a-half to my mom's house. I had enough money in my debit card to pay for the rental, but not enough to pay for the extra $200 I was going to be temporarily charged because I was using a debit card, and not a credit card. After several calls to my mother and sister I finally got in a taxi, and I was at my mom's by around 1 am.

It seems that no matter how much I am supported in a large transition, there is an intense passage at some point, similar to going through the birth canal.

It's taken me a week to recover from the physical and mental exhaustion of the past five months: moving with my cats to three different places, not feeling wanted at two of those places, stressing about lack of money and how to pay the few bills that I have, banging at closed doors that wouldn't open. Finally welcomed with my cats, I have allowed myself to collapse and sleep all I want, without concern about what I am here to do. But this morning I finally woke up feeling kind of happy, or at least looking forward to this adventure.

I don't know exactly why I am here, apart from finding relief from financial lack. However, based on the last week, I can say that some of the reasons that I am here may be:

• to spend time with my mom and reconnect with my ancestors by hearing stories of my family.
• to connect with my mom and family, in simple ways. I learned to play a card game that my aunt and mom play in the evenings, and after one day was able to beat them. Not everything in life has to be spiritual, I am finding out.
• to get another perspective from the one I've had for 14 years, since I moved to California. At the Center for Spiritual Living I heard Reverend Edward--a man whose funny and humble talks nourish me--say that to be whole we need to allow all perspectives, not just the ones that we agree with.
• to loosen up from my holier-than-thou spiritual attitude that I've acquired since moving to California. I suppose that this attitude was a better one than the more-successful-than-thou material attitude I had in New York. But ultimately both attitudes serve separation and not oneness.
• to learn to receive with grace. My mother loves to give and I have, in the past, repeatedly dismissed her gifts.

A friend asked me a few weeks ago, why I wasn't willing to get a full-time job given my financial situation. The answer is that I am letting my feelings of joy guide my decisions, rather than my fear of survival. Just reading a job description for a full-time corporate job makes my stomach turn. By not over riding this clear message, I find myself where God intends me to be. And I can see the perfection in that.

Letting go of control and allowing miracles to happen

I apologize for not writing sooner. My life has gone from being stopped with endless time, to being quite busy as I move toward something new. Once again I am seeing that when I let go of my idea of what my life should be and follow God's lead, miracles start happening. The lesson from the Course in Miracles that I am finally starting to get is: God's Will for me is perfect happiness. Having surrendered, I am starting to feel quite happy.

It seems that one after another, doors were closed for me in California. The tutoring job that I had been promised didn't happen. I wasn't given even one student. The house I thought I could share with an ex-housemate didn't happen, as he now has a cat who wouldn't get along with Max. Everywhere I turned, I found shut doors. And if you read my last blog, I finally got a hit that I was ready to leave California. The only door that was open to me was moving to my mom's in Central Florida.

My mother is 84 years old and in good health. She has a 3-bedroom house in Florida, across the street from her sister, and a few minutes drive to the beach. She loves to garden, cook, and she loves me and the cats. And I get along really well with her. Living with my mom is easy. She has invited me to come stay with her over and over. So finally I had no choice but to say "yes, I am moving to Florida." And lo and behold, miracles started happening.

First miracle was that a friend who lives near my mom, in a beautiful house right on the beach, bought me two tickets with her miles. (I need two tickets because I have two cats that I am taking on board with me.) Then, she told me she was making a key for me, so that I could have access to her beach house. Woo hoo! Another friend offered to take me to the airport. Money started showing up--just enough for me to meet all my expenses. I thought of selling my car, but wasn't able to. Hmmm...I thought, this means that I must be coming back.

Sure enough, last week I stopped by to say hi to the mother of a friend. We started talking and it turns out she has a beautiful house in Chico that she isn't using. She said I would be the perfect house sitter. And she loves cats. So it seems to me that I will spend a nice, long vacation in Florida with my mom and then return to start a new life, free of the struggle to pay the rent.

And all of a sudden my social life is abundant. Friends here are taking me out for dinner and brunch, and even coming down from Ashland to visit me. Friends on the East Coast are planning to visit me in Florida. And I am waking up to the fact that it's time to spend time with my mom, whom I have only been seeing for a week every couple of years.

Many friends, whose mothers are no longer alive, have said to me: "You will never regret spending this time with your mother." I know in my heart this is true, but I had to be forced into it. And I am finally feeling very free, and very happy, and connected with so many friends and family.

Did I mention that my mom makes a mean spanakopitta??

God's will for me is perfect happiness. Indeed.

When spirituality becomes twisted

Perhaps it's time to leave California. Signs are showing up that I no longer belong here. One of the signs is that when ever I attend anything "spiritual" I find how spiritual concepts are being misused. Like the friend who considers himself a guru and is seducing and being seduced by his "devotees". He is one with everyone and feels unconditional love and is free. That's what he tells himself. From my perspective, I want to vomit. That's a sign to me that something is off.

Well this morning I found myself yelling at a woman because I had had it with her new age concepts. (So much for the Course in Miracles.) Anyone who knows me, knows I love my cats--and really all cats. I saw Max, my alpha cat, looking out the window at a red cat in the garden. The red cat seemed lost and scared. I went out to check on him, but he left. Five minutes later a woman drove up asking me if I had seen a cat. Yes! I was so relieved, this cat wouldn't stay lost.

Apparently she was driving from Forestville to Lake Tahoe, and had the cat in the car without a carry case (mistake #1.) The cat jumped out of the car. Her main concern seemed to be that she had to be in Lake Tahoe at 4 pm to celebrate her birthday. She didn't really have time to look for the cat. She spent five minutes calling to him half heartedly and then gave up. "I can't do this to myself," she said to me. "I'm too upset." Hmmm...This seemed to be about her and not the cat.

Then she handed me a can of tuna and asked me if I'd give it to her cat if I saw him. She wouldn't be back for two days. "So you're going to leave your cat lost, thirsty and hungry, for two days?" I asked her. "I assume you'll be coming by to find him on your way back?"

"Well, I might, if I'm not too broken hearted over this," she replied. OK, that didn't compute. She would be broken hearted over losing her cat, and so couldn't come back to look for him??? At this point she wasn't making any sense to me. Then she started telling me how her cat was doing this to punish her, describing the cat's astrological signs, and saying that she trusted he would be fine.

OK, I had had enough. "Enough of this airy fairy new age bullshit!" I yelled at her. "This cat is lost and frightened. You put him in the car without a carry case. You let him escape. And now you can't take the time to find him? You committed to take care of this being. How about taking responsibility??"

She looked at me and asked, "Are you from New York?"

Despite my anger, I had to laugh to myself. "Yes, I am," I said. "And I am so tired of this California spiritual bullshit way of not taking responsibility."

"I'm from New York too," she said. And as she got in the car to leave, leaving her cat behind and homeless, she said to me, "Perhaps you need to be in California longer."

"I've been here 14 years," was my answer. And I would need a lobotomy to get to the point where you are at, I thought to myself. And perhaps it is time to leave Northern California and find a less "spiritual" place where spiritual concepts aren't used to justify indulgence and self-centeredness. Or perhaps I just need to see reflected in this gross projection, what I have bought into for so many years that I need to let go of.

A fond farewell to a little Crystal

This blog is humming with activity lately, and I appreciate everyone's input. But today, rather than address any of the questions being asked, I need to write about a heart-break that one of us is experiencing--the death of her seven year old daughter in a plane crash.

Yesterday morning I was getting ready to go to my version of church (the Center for Spiritual Living) when I thought I'd check my emails. A close friend who reads and participates in my blog, had sent me an email with a subject line that pretty much said her life was over. A little dramatic, I thought to myself, until I opened the email and read that her estranged husband and her seven year-old daughter had died in a plane crash that morning. She had received a call at 3:30 am with the news.

Oh, my God! I forgot about the church and called her, hoping she would answer the phone. She did. All I could say was "I'm so sorry," and cry. She cried with me. I never met the little girl, but she had touched my heart in many ways. Last year, she wrote one of my posts on miracles (October 21, 2010.) She was a miracle walking, and I called her the little Crystal, as she clearly was one of the wise crystal children who came to this world as an enlightened little being. I loved hearing her remarks. Once, when her older brother asked her, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" she looked at him as if he was stupid and replied, "What do you mean? I am." Who needs to sit with gurus when you have a child like that?

I hoped that I would meet her one day, and imagined the kind of woman she would grow up to be. Stronger and more beautiful than her mother (and that's saying a lot) and wiser than her dad. " You are wise," my friend asked me on the phone yesterday. "Why do you think this happened?" I have no idea. I won't even try to figure this out nor will I offer any spiritual platitudes. All I can over my friend is the space for her to have her sorrow, and the knowledge that I love her and am here for her. I can't possibly understand her pain, though I can cry along with her.

A friend told me that in some villages, at times like this, the entire tribe gets together and wails along with the mother. This blog, in a way, is one of her tribes. So please feel free to share your love with my friend who is in pain.

I love you, my sister, and I am here for you.

Is it possible to have an intimate relationship that is joyful?

I haven't written for a while, because I seem to be going through my own process. I no longer seem to have answers, as much as I have questions. Usually my questions revolve around money and life purpose. But the last few days, to my surprise, my question is about relationships between men and women. Is it possible to have a committed sexual relationship that does not cause suffering, but instead is joyful and supports spiritual growth?

That seems to be my question these days, because it has become clear to me that I have never had a joyful intimate relationship with a man--except perhaps for the first couple of months. No matter who the man is, my issues of abandonment always come up, which then cause him to shut down and leave. That's my painful pattern which has repeated over and over again. I have friends who have other painful patterns: they get abused, or they get suffocated from attention. I so can't imagine that. I just get ignored, never making it on his priority list.

Whatever our relationship pattern is, it is calling us to heal. I get it. So I have worked on issues I've had with my father not having any time for me or with God abandoning me. It seems to be the same issue. And still, I find myself involved with men who profess to love me, if and when they remember that I exist. Recently many of my illusions have dropped away and I'm clear that this non-existent relationship is not a partnership.

If the kind of partnership exists that is loving, supportive, and joyful, I would really like to be in one. If, on the other hand, all sexual relationships are about painful ways to learn lessons, then I'm done. I'm too old and no longer hormone-driven to suffer in order to be with a man. The Course in Miracles talks about such "special" relationships being based on hate rather than love. I have seen how easily love turns to hate, so I believe this. The only hope that the Course offers is that these special relationships can turn into holy relationships, which support our finding our way Home.

I'd love to hear from others, as I truly do not know the answer to this question. Is there such a thing as a committed sexual relationship which is joyful and supports truth?

No longer answering questions, but questioning answers

Earlier this year I attended a wonderful workshop by Donald Epstein (http://www.wiseworldseminars.com/) called the Ultimatum. One of the first things he said to us was, "I'm not here to help you answer your questions. I'm here to help you question your answers." Truer words were never said.

Lately I've been questioning my answers. Yesterday I was at my health club sitting by the pool (yes, I'm back in the world, and I love it!) I started talking with a gentleman who was probably a little older than me, and surely a bit wiser. My conversations are rarely superficial, as that bores me to death. So he asked me what the word "choice" meant to me. My reply was something like, "At any moment when I am making a decision, I have a choice--between self-betrayal and freedom." He smiled at me and gently said, "Wow. So black and white. Do you have any shades of gray in your life?"

Well, that gave me pause to think. It seems that I don't have much room for the gray areas. So my lessons come in extremes. I'm either earning a six-figure income or I'm totally broke. I'm either feeling the perfection of creation or I'm in hell. Whew! It's not easy being me. An astrologer once told me that I was born during a full moon. That means that I experience life in extremes. Hmmm...Can there be another way?

I also realized in talking to this gentleman, that while I think I want to be a speaker, I am no longer passionate about delivering any message. What the hell do I know? I'm just trying the best I can to evolve. And what is medicine at one point in my life--a spiritual teacher for example--can be poison later on. I don't want to preach to anyone. I don't know the Truth with a capital T. All I know is what is showing up for me in each moment. If I'm suppose to be speaking at some point, then it will happen organically. I cannot force it. Whatever gifts I have to offer, I can let God decide how they will be used.

Last night I came to this conclusion. I really don't have to figure things out. If God wants me to speak or write, He will create a venue for me. Otherwise it's just my ego, as an old friend once told me. This morning when I opened the Course in Miracles at random, I received the following: I need add nothing to God's plan. But to receive it, I must be willing not to substitute my own in place of it." Ok, God. I got it. What a relief. I don't have to have all the answers or really any answers. But perhaps I can ask some good questions, or help others to ask their questions.

So I invite you readers, to start asking questions in my blog. I'll write my own (most likely extreme) perspective and then we can open it up for discussion. But please don't ask questions that come from the mind. Let's up the ante. Ask questions that come from your heart, your soul, or even the deepest darkest depths of your despair. It's all welcomed here. You are welcomed here.

A new model for women

If you read the many comments on my last post, you will notice that some of them are, shall we say, far from loving. While I was happy to have some interaction going on in the beginning--I always wonder if anyone except a few close friends reads my blog--towards the end I found the comments to be painful. A friend was being attacked, and while I value freedom of speech I could no longer sit by and watch.

I stopped writing in my blog a few years ago for the same reason. Some unknown guys were attacking me every time I wrote. They weren't discussing the issues, but instead were telling me what an old hag I was, how I was flat chested, on and on. I was surprised to find that these comments really threw me off, that they hit the core of who I believed myself to be. I believed myself to be attractive, desirable, etc. The comments served to wake me up to the fact that I had given my life force to maintain that image, but it was time for the image to shatter.

Since then I have noticed the misogyny that exists in the world. I didn't notice it when I was young, looked good, and men were after me sexually. But I started noticing it in my mid-fifties. I noticed that men had stopped smiling at me, and that I had become invisible. That was the best case scenario. The worst case was that I was being attacked for speaking my mind.

So what to do? Do I shrivel up into a corner and keep quiet to stay safe? What kind of a life is that? Or, like Shandi, do I say that what you think of me is none of my business, and go out and live a full life speaking my truth? This culture seems to have only a couple of role models for women: Being sexy, gorgeous and young, in which case you can say any absurdity and everyone still adores you; or being motherly, loving, safe, and quiet. Personally it would be stupid of me to try to be the former, that's a losing battle. And motherly, loving, safe and quiet just aint my type.

So time to create some new role models for women. One of them is the outrageous, older woman who is outspoken and doesn't care what others think of her. I'm not there yet, but I'm working on it.