Monday, November 30, 2015


I used to dance with the moon. The brilliant, glittering darkness was my gown, and I wore slippers of perpetual vibrance and youth, (or so I was convinced.) When sleep arrived, it was the heavy slumber of exhaustion, and I delighted in it. My finest hours were lived in the spaces filled by Night; music, dancing, laughter, and nefarious deeds that would have never been carried out in the harsh light of day. Sleep was my companion, and I was faithful to her out of necessity, and truly thought she loved me as I did her. 

A millennium has passed, in hours at least, and Night has lost her shimmering beauty. She has become bitter (or, have I?) and she taunts me now. She and Sleep have become friendly, and they conspire against me, even though I call out to them longingly. I beg for their old, familiar embrace, but they do not answer my pleas. My once beautiful slippers are threadbare, and I mourn their loss, and despise them for deceiving me. Daylight has too few qualities I desire in a companion, so what am I left with, then? Memories of dear old friends, resilient soles (and, soul), a tired old gown that no longer fits, and an aching desire to not only wear it again, but to sparkle.

Tuesday, April 28, 2015


Frequently, I'm asked to blog again. Frequently, I tell those who ask, that I simply don't have the time. Life in my 40's has become vastly more complicated and difficult than I ever imagined. So much for the glory of adulthood.

This past weekend, I spent a fast and furious 48 hours in Washington, DC. The trip was made on a whim. A snap decision. A half dozen times between booking the flight and taking off, the voices in my head battled it out. "What are you DOING?! This isn't you!" "Oh, hush. This will be fun! Loosen up and see what's out there." So...I went. I saw things that inspired, awed, and moved me. I did things, like meeting an old friend from the blog, in person. Actually face to face! It was marvelous.

While in DC, this old, new friend from the blog, shamanized me. That's right. She worked some sort of voodoo magic. I allowed myself to do something new, something bold, something totally not me, and I let the world in. What happens, happens. What happened, was "epic," as she put it. Energy was put in motion, pain moved out, peace moved in. Breath started fast and anxious, and ended up slow, and relaxed. Calm. Peace. Love.

Whether it was my friend the Shaman, the city, the monuments, the Reiki ...I was repaired. At least briefly.

I arrived back in Texas to news that Baltimore is on fire. Literally and figuratively. The world needs shamanized. We...the collective WE, need to let love in. We need to feel the pain, convert it to energy, let it go, find peace, and move forward.

Don't talk. Just listen. Not to others, and what they want you to hear and believe, but to your inner voice. The voice has the answer.