Thursday, January 30—Marina Del Rey
Even though my introduction to the world of CBD gummies was wondrously fun, I have not actually partaken any. They sit there looking at me but they do not call me. Hence my heart-rate has continued to gallop.
What to do?
Earth to me…MY SEA LIONS. And so here I am.
A few days ago a friend alerted me to the fact that an entertainment community in Burbank was filling a spacious warehouse with furniture from retired tv shows and wrapped movies, and offering them as gifts to those that had lost ALL in the fire. That would be I.
I investigated the site and viewed images of a vast array of furniture, from artsy to elegant, from soul-less to dripping with history. There were images of delighted new owners and their new homesteads.
Hmmm. No. Beautiful for them, and what an incredibly creative, generous gesture, but not for me.
Why?
Eight years ago after a series of profoundly chaotic and intense years, a Buddhist monk, who I did not know, told me “You will be offered a place to live where you will heal and all of your dreams will come true. You will think that you cannot afford it but you will. You must say ‘Yes’.” The offer appeared and I did.
I drove out to West Covina and rescued my family treasures from a storage unit and the healing began.
Every single possession, from my grand mother’s demi tasse collection, to my father’s special wedding prayer, to Samm’s parting scroll, to Bob’s India journal, to my mother’s photographs and diaries, to my daughters’ ‘doings’ and and and then THE FURNITURE…every piece an heirloom holding volumes of history and tales of loss and triumph.
This was my dream space. I inhabited it quietly and privately with prayers of appreciation every day.
So. Now. I have been sheltered with loving grace by special friends for these three weeks, and now, change is in the air.
This space has another occupant on the way and so my wings are getting ready.
Next stop, a nest where the feathers and heart can relax. Long Beach.
To be continued,