Homeless Mountain

…develop an ongoing relationship with our minds, an awareness and respect that incorporates ‘Shhhhhhhhhhhh, I love you, mind, but I’m busy being here right now, please be still …..thank you.’ into our daily lives.

How beautiful it would be to glide into the future, creating a oneness, a convergence, a vibrational surge of compassion and goodness. Hmmmm, time to close the eyes, visualize light, and connect to it.

Our humanness….excruciating and wondrous.
May we all together, go into our hearts and send them up, out and over there. These people need our love and support.

Extending one’s heart and sharing a moment of recognition is the most beautiful gift.

’share the agonies of despair and disappointment and struggle and the sorrow in the abandonment of friends, PLEASE!’. I cannot. They are there, but for me, what is on top is gratitude, and so from this place I write.

we discovered the courage that it took to ask this question, the humility experienced to appear less than, the ego lessons around not being able to defend our apparent helplessness, the kindness and willingness of strangers to help

It took weeks and months to learn the ropes of ‘making it’, with no space at all to think about the big picture or dreams or who I was, or anything. Just survival.

we could and can remember, every moment, while not turning away from our soul knowing of the agonies, that joy is our home. Joy is where we all came from. Joy is our center.

LA is a mecca where brutal reality collides with dream quests and just about everyone is trying to hold themselves together one way or another.

now my soul’s attention turns towards the thousands who are being uprooted and discarded in the name of progress. Be brave all of you! Find your loves and create new homes! The world is topsy turvy right now and we all need to stay focused on what is important! Stay alive! And Love!

Margaret’s two year crusade to banish the cancer cells in her brain, had depleted her physical and emotional bodies. She was reaching the end of her time on earth and my father had provided this expedition for her, as her dream had been to go to Alaska and see whales.

I stand and sing, committed to every word, while behind and all around me chaos reigns. I sing. I am committed. I love my song.

I simply know that God has a plan, I have a plan, they, we, are the same, the timing is a challenge, I am weary, my knowing is forever and today is spectacularly beautiful.

She stopped breathing, silently put it on over her dress and with feelings too overwhelming to socialize, she went to find her pile of books and made herself at home.

Any experience where God gives one the opportunity to look oneself in the eye, stripped down, bare, and then be required to stand there and live from there, is the most divine of all gifts

Time. There really isn’t such a thing in my world, but what there is, is peace, surrender, gratitude, joy and love.

Our bodies truly are temples for the soul, and though tending to them is an honor and a pleasure,

softness softens, even if just for a minute, and the return is forever.

And we DID make it to a land of butterfly meadows and mountain grasses before you passed, just as I promised, where you dance in swirling winds forever.

And now we all begin a new season, a new cycle together. Here we stand! All lined up holding hands!

Those whose faith and humanity is heart-soul-integrity based, under the umbrella of the church, are light bearers in the truest sense.

Loving what is. Loving our lives. Loving that others cross our paths to say ‘hello’ and blessing them as they leave. And joy is born.

A feeling of safety and lush comfort no longer existed. I watched the wake of the ship when we sailed away and wondered what India would be like.

If I choose to worry, there is a list ten million miles long of possibilities, but I do not choose this.

When we were evicted from the blue house by the sea, we had been spiraling down the rabbit hole for awhile.

I bow to my lesson and gratitude overwhelms me.

I can still hear my mother’s voice calling out to me from my distant past, as a girl in South India. ‘Look! Look!’ at every turn.

Mom had always said that had he lived in the age of Camelot, he would surely have been a knight of the round table.

This side step from our ego driven mainstream is all that it takes to lift, shift, heal and open the portals to ways of uniting and growing that the planet is sobbing for.

As a tiny seed I was brilliant to choose you as my mother. You were a giant force, hard-headed and demanding and not easy to be at peace with.

I had totally stepped outside of my image of myself and had committed full force to this event and I found out that I could be mighty if I wanted to be.

The next time you see a poor person, try putting your hands together and say ‘Namaste’. This means ‘the divine in me, greets the divine in you’.

…asked if there was anything that I needed to know. The answer: “Yes, you were totally clear except for some chards surrounding and coming out of your heart.”

I believe that most Americans know someone personally, who is clinging to edge of the financial cliff right now, and the fear is overwhelming.

The simplicity of his love and understanding of all things growing in the park, and his old fashioned work ethic in, rain, snow, freezing and boiling are old world refreshing and new world encouraging.

I found a seat, alone, by a window and as I watched the land of my post India childhood, spring to life around me,

we love waking up to fresh sparkling snow, we love the oboe and to dance, we don’t like to be misunderstood by our children, we love company but need our freedom, we like to swim in warm water, and we want to explore and have wild adventures and then return to the cozy familiarity of home.

I could stand on any corner and watch myself fly by and say out loud ‘There I go!’ to which most New Yorkers simply thought I was another poor soul who had lost her marbles in this great city.

I was moved by the honesty and courage that this little speech took. And though he went out with only one contribution to his hat, I have a feeling that he will figure things out.

Our human walk asks for miracles, instant pop throughs into a new place of relief and new direction. Our spiritual walk recognizes that there is a choice in every second, with every breath, to experience either darkness or light.

But my soul whispers ‘shhhhhhhhh’. And I’m listening, because in silence, answers beyond human brain knowing appear. Real answers.

Every night, as the twinkling light on stage, that was Tinker Bell, flickered while she flitted and flopped, dying, the entire theater full of children and adults, rose to their feet clapping to bring her back to life because they believed in magic.

We have had one week of putting our minds and hearts to work at problem solving this conundrum, and though we have not come up with a solution as of this moment, hope is alive and well, breath is steady and strong, the sense of a shift is in the air

Earth is the dirt under my feet. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, it has been here forever and will be here forever, we become it, how can one walk on dirt, with consciousness and experience anything but humility?

Whether we want to know it or not, there is a spirit that dwells in these bodies of ours, that is very much ‘of the Father’ and we cannot help ourselves from going forward.

Nothing, nothing at all, ever ever ever belongs to us, except love. Things and loved ones come and go, but the love in our hearts is there forever. Gratitude for whatever it is that is the object of one’s love is the lesson, and the willingness to let it go if it must. Attachment is not love.

There are two women in my life, whose friendships have blossomed…whose sharings and responses to mine are sensitive and never rushed and whose very beings I treasure.

I allowed myself to become my own security and source of love. I allowed God’s light and love to flow through me and hold me, and now, whenever that agonizing feeling of crisis appears, I recognize it and surrender my fears.

If one believes in the divine and the knowing that we all carry the divine within, how can we not appreciate that each breath and blink is a human experience that He/She/It is living through us?

…thank God for McDonalds. McDonalds is known among the gypsy population, as the one place where one can use facilities, customer or not, any hour of the day.

The cold, at night, has been bone chilling and sleep inhibiting…wells of relief spill over into tears. The ‘tricks’ to living in the car on such nights? Neighborhoods do not welcome parked cars with fogged windows. …one must crack the windows just enough to de-fog, but not freeze to death.

Even the sun appears to be living in the moment. And why not? Is not every single energetic be-ing one with the Divine?

Now, the challenge, and we pray the miracle and inspiration for every without roof human being is, how to be pioneers and break the old saying ‘One needs to have money to make money!’

There is one young woman who lives on the beach and does not participate in gazing at the sun as it slips into the sea, but who lies on her stomach in the grass and speaks to the birds. They gather around her softly and coo to her.

…there have been a bevy of gifts to follow. The greatest of these is my ever increasing soul knowing that the only absolute guarantee for happiness lies in giving.

This is a new breed of homeless. People are losing their homes and pretending that they aren’t. And no wonder, as a foggy glaze slips down over the eyes and energy of those that we tell…

How can any of we humans, ever turn a blind eye or deaf ear, to someone on the street in need? Every single person has a story that brought him there, and every single one needs the blessing and boost that a kind word or supportive gesture brings.

As one’s money diminishes in quantity down to nickels and dimes, one is faced with the reality of positioning. Do we allow the mind to be consumed with worry and doubt? Do we turn inwards and find the God that lives inside of us and choose to water this garden?

What happens when one has no address, no health insurance, no money and a medical crisis explodes?

When you see a homeless woman, any homeless woman, do you see her? Do you look at her face? Her eyes? Her posture? Her cleanliness? Her burden? Her vulnerability?
Her vulnerability. Thank you for looking next time.