A quick glace and you miss it.  When you focus on it, it appears.

(pats heart, and points to you)

If only we could sit a while and share some time today. I'd ask you questions about your life that let you share your hopes and dreams.  When we speak the words or think the thoughts, we begin to create the life we truly want to live.

I'll leave you to your thoughts on that, and pat my heart and point to YOU.

I see the signs of change.

I keep it to myself like a faint and distant part of the process is mine to give.

Is it?

Am I connected?

I see the signs of change.

I keep it to myself like the candle that lights the way.

Is it mine to shine?

To hold brightly toward the future?

I see the signs of change.

(pats heart, and points to you)

The mornings are chilly and I wait patiently for the warming as I move to sunnier places to work in the gardens.  It will warm up soon.  As soon as the fog burns off.  Sometimes the fog will stay in until mid afternoon, but Sundowners (warmer evenings)are the best this time of year.   To met up with friends and enjoy time well spent. Conversation and laughter fill the local air around the beach and beyond in backyards and parks.

Parks with Sunday music to share with complete strangers who soon become familiar as we place our chairs side by side each week.  Here comes the friends we know from prior summers who'll  join us and the circle continues to get bigger in more ways than size.

The circle of  community.  We check our politics at the edge of the grass.  We step into the realm of mutual understanding that we all need "time off".   We smile more, we judge less, and we dance in the circle at the middle of the park and it becomes common ground.  There's medicine to be found here.  Medicine for the mind, body, and spirit.  It's a healing thing to gather in support of positive experiences.  There's an energy that come from this time spent together.  We don't realize that it's changing us as we change.

Start at the edge of the grass and meet in the middle where humanity can grow within small pockets of people willing to share the time in harmony.

Small steps bring us forward.

(pats heart, and points to you)

I want my cup of life FULL! And so it is.  When I see this comment as I make my way around the New Xangaland, I remember something someone said to me many, many years ago.

"Do everything in moderation, including moderation."

(pats heart, and points to you)

Ah yes! The learning curve is rounding a new bend for me.  Time to retrain my brain.  Let the thoughts that let adaptability begin anew. Yes. I tell myself these things and then the "what's next." finds it's flow.  How do you see it?

I put the little hand on the update button and it glowed...ready to do my bidding. 

I keep thinking that I'm moving through the flow of my life and as I do, more flow becomes available.  This flow has options in both manners of perspective.  On one hand you could scream and worry and pull your hair out.  I've considered it briefly and mainly for a laugh at myself.  It's a red hot, pull you to the ground kind of flow. Nope! Not for me! The other is to strap on my big girl "I am grateful to live my life with a calm at the front of it" pants.  Ah yes! The DRAMA falls away and there is peace in Lyneville. 

My plate of life is changing again and it has offered up a freedom.  I know that what I put on my plate is my choosing. And then there's the question of where on my plate shall it go?  My plate. My choosing.  Oh yes, there are others on the "people I love" side of the plate that I consider wisely as I chose.  That's important too.  The more calm within me that I bring to my plate...the more peace in Lyneville. I'm all for that!  I'm look forward to the transformation!

How's your village?

"I'm sending you a hug through the energy lines."

"Thank you. I feel it."

"Love you."

(quietly) "Goodbye."

Just got off the phone with my 90 year old mother.  She had a temperature for a few days and was on my mind, and in my heart.  We spoke about simple things like watermelon and vine ripened tomatoes. I retold her about my family so she wouldn't get confused trying to remember who was who.  The dementia wasn't fighting for her brain at the moment, so she could follow my words or a least that's what I convince myself for my own comfort.  She'll forget I called as soon as she hangs up.  These conversations, I realize are for me. Me. Me. Me.

Mom is tired and wants to go. I understand it, but letting go of her is a process that holds family ties.  My father passed when he was in his mid seventies.  It shook the family tree.  Now with Mom, dementia and wishing death to take her is a whole new ballgame.  Where will we go from this place in time?

My oldest sister asked me to write Mom's obituary.  I'm milling it over in my head...wishing it was an easier writing job.  Listing family names and accomplishments seems easy, but for the writer me...how to express the true living in words...

I'll hold a space for "what's next."  Think I'll go to the garden and let nature nurture.

(pats heart, and points to my mom)

So I had a dream last night that a friendly dragon dropped into the garden and took me for a ride across Xangaland.  We passes over hills, and valleys, deserts, and forests and the view was amazing.  Then he took me high into the sky and we watched the moon for a while.  I'm pretty sure it winked at me.  When he dropped me back into the garden the sun was just starting to rise.  I finally spoke to the dragon.

"Why did you take me on this amazing ride?"

"Because you were willing to go." He bowed and gleamed in the morning light.

Then I woke up.

(pats heart, and points to you)