Words to live by.

And I do.

here's what I struggle with...

In the wishing world of knowing I can't really ever reach enlightenment, but understanding that living life in love with the world and all the people in it, with childlike wonder and amazement, at the very least gets me close...the thing I struggle with is how to reconcile the desire, intention, purpose of living my life with non-attachment and no expectations and in the present moment as much as possible, while walking in love and peace and gratitude with the sometimes very real need to need. Yep, the need, to need. 

Neediness in general, I have always found quite unattractive both in myself and in others.  Everyone wants to be needed and likes being needed....I don't mean that kind - I mean the clingy, weird, psycho-needy thing that a lot of people do when they feel faced with imminent loss or pain.  That kind of needy is no bueno.

But the every so often, pretty rare actually, time when I actually just want, nay NEED to be heard, and felt, and held (in the literal sense) because sometimes life really does just overwhelm...I don't know how to do it.  How to ask for it.  How to get there. 

I wonder too if my "kumbaya, love is my religion, live in the moment, non attachment, no expectation" thing really boils down to a positive spin on my well conditioned sense of unworthiness.  You know about unworthiness, don't you?  I actually hope you don't, but I suspect many of you do.

Unworthiness....that destructive little voice that really is an enormous roar that lives inside some of us (me) that shout-whispers "don't ask for love....you can't...you aren't worthy."  Now, I realize this statement is utterly ridiculous.  Wrong.  Backwards.  The opposite of what is true and good and the path I need to be on. 

Unworthiness.  That thing I learned as a child trying to earn the love of my parents. That thing I feel when I look in the mirror and wish there was a prettier face staring back at me.  A better figure...a smarter brain...a more efficient athlete...you know the drill...

Unworthiness.  That unholy beast who dogs me relentlessly and sits on my shoulder filling my head with the kinds of soul crippling bullshit that I for a split second (or a few days) will buy into as I struggle to figure out exactly why I should be worthy of the things I want - or love - or need - or desire - crave, long for, thirst for, yearn for...

And then I remember. To breathe.  To remember.  To thank mother nature, god, the universe, the stars, my beautiful soul friends of whom there are few, but among those few - the truest and best out there. I struggle at these times because then I have to earnestly and sincerely put into practice those things that I say everyday to everyone else.  Forgive yourself, M.  Love yourself. Let it go.  Let it be.  Accept.  Love.  Just love. 

It is all about vulnerability.  We have taught ourselves and our offspring that being vulnerable is a sign of weakness.  That it is something to hide.  Worse, yet - something to be ashamed of.  I'm here to tell you, and I am still learning this myself...it isn't weakness.  Vulnerability is courage. It is emotional risk. It is the key to stepping beyond and into creativity and love and into the open wide world of possibility.  We have to put ourselves out there to get there, if you get my drift.

Shame is like fear, and you know I say fear is a "motherfucker" pardon the words. I heard someone say recently that shame is the swampland of the soul.  Very true. Shame goes along with unworthiness.  Add fear to this cocktail and you have a trifecta of personal spiritual disaster. We are conditioned to fear. To feel shame. To feel unworthy. To feel like we are not enough.  This, THIS is what I so passionately want to help everyone to start to change and to realize that we ARE enough. You are.  You are worthy.  The fear can't hold you prisoner if you choose love. I don't have a magic pill for it, but I know with commitment to yourself, to love yourself, to forgive yourself, *(yes - my ever present iterations)...and keeping a little smile inside yourself all the time as you walk through the world goes so far towards making this all possible.  Imagine what wonderful people we can create in ourselves and in our children when we make a conscious choice and habit of walking this way.  Walking in self love and appreciation for our gifts and for the gift of life and the beautiful people around us?

Once more....Love, people.  Just.  Love.  It's like a mantra to me...as is "it's not selfish, it's sanctuary"...
When times get rough, (and believe me, they WILL) when I feel myself vibrating at below sea level and standing outside watching myself I have to remember, again, to breathe.  And I tell myself that I'm writing my story right along side Destiny. She may have ideas of her own, and really, all I want to do is help her saddle the horse and ride with her every day.

So...I'm struggling...and I'm asking myself to go easy on me...and to give me space to be, and to breathe and to figure out my path and the courage to just keep walking it - even if wishy washy self doubt and unworthiness knocks on my brow door.  When that happens, I swing the door wide open and give that self doubt a great big hug, tell it I love it, and then get on with my work as a human. Loving and forgiving myself...you wanna know why? I'll tell you.  Because I am worthy.  And you?  You are too.  Worthy. Loved. and it's time you believe.  I'll help you.  And you can help me.  That's really how this thing works.

And really, it is not selfish. It is sanctuary. I quite like that turn of phrase.  If I accomplish nothing else in this world, I hope I can convince at least one of you that it really is not only OK to love yourself, it is primary.  It is the first step to everything else. Love.  Just love.

• ‎"Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded. It’s a relationship between equals.  Only when we know our own darkness well can we be present with the darkness of others. Compassion becomes real when we recognize our shared humanity." ~ Pema Chodron

Fact check update/it's never too late for you. Choose love.

With respect to my previous post, and for matters of integrity ....I spoke with my sister today who was very emotional and hoping to go by my dad's place just to look around and find some closure for the pain she carries around. I asked her specifically and pointedly if my dad had sexually abused her. Her reply was that he often got fresh and kissed her in a non daughterly way, and maybe did some groping, but not actual sex.  From where I sit, that is still wrong and abuse of a child's trust, innocence  and ultimately ability to feel safe.

She then informed me that the pain she carries with her is the pain from watching my dad beat the hell out of her mom while she (my sister) watched and screamed. No child. No person should ever have to witness that.

I felt it important to correct the account from the last blog after speaking with her.

It is never, ever for even a nano-second ok to ever inflict adult situations onto children or teenagers in any circumstance. It is vile. Wrong. And permanently damaging. There is no poor judgment or moment of weakness...it is wrong and it is grand larceny of that child's ability to ever feel safe. To trust. It is evil. And I do not care what the cultural norms are.

More to come on child marriages that seem to be acceptable in many parts of the world. Even our own USA, so don't point your fingers till you've done some research. There's plenty of child sex slave trade going on in America. Yes. In America.

It is also never, ever ok to physically, emotionally, mentally or otherwise abuse your spouse or any other human being. Regardless of the gender.  Ever.

So. I'm sorry. So sorry, sister, for the pain and innocence stolen. And for the pain you watched your mother go through and the helplessness that left you with. Like i said, no child, no person should have to endure that. I so hope you find the peace you seek and that you take comfort in the loving and beautiful family you have made for yourself.

Love. If we all just came from a place of love, and peace...how much more beautiful this world could be.

You have a choice. We all do. And every moment you spend allowing yourself to be abused or abusing someone else is a choice that wastes precious life force and opportunity. It dishonors the gift we have before us.

I know. I used to be a victim. Fuck that. There's a great big beautiful world out there and it is full of amazing people and I refuse to allow any any pain or experience from my past, no matter how horrific, to rob me of my love affair with this world.

Decide today. Change today. Stop today. Life is way too goddamn short. Taste that strawberry of life and smear it all over your face.  Get the seeds in your teeth.  Live.  And love.  And mean it.  And if the situation you are in doesn't allow for acceptance and for you to be the best you possible? Change it.  Or leave it. Make it count. Do it for you and for all the beauty YOU can bring about in the world. You're worth that. It's not selfish. It's sanctuary. I'm not kidding.

I believe in you. Believe in yourself. Love yourself. Forgive yourself.

Love. Just. Love.

Write your story the way YOU want it to read.

Maybe your childhood sucked. Get over it. Mine did too. Don't be a victim. Become a champion. Become your own champion or someone else's. Or both. But... Let. It. Go. Your victim story. Your perpetrator mentality. Whichever it is. You may well be the only one standing in your way. You are the only one who can change your life. And I believe when you decide to choose to change, the universe and loving, helpful people will come to your side. It works that way. Works the opposite too. Choose light. Choose love. End the story that you think you're trapped in. You are only trapped in your mind.

Ok. Enough preaching for today.

from the mud, the lotus will rise...



...As my journey, my own personal hajj continues and I close the father chapter in my life, I am growing ever more amazed at the existence of my own sanity.  Perhaps it is only a version of sanity, but life feels pretty good to me. 

I am sorry to say that I ran into drama I didn't anticipate when I arrived stateside last Friday.  Once I landed, I called the funeral home to be sure they had whatever they needed and to find out what they needed from me since I had been flying  for 20 hours and unreachable by phone. Imagine my surprise when they said they'd never heard of him.

Never heard of him?  Nope.  No idea who he was.  So I called the hospital to ask what was up. They let me know that my "brother" Kenny had cockblocked me (I've taken to calling it that, I'm not sure why...) from having my father's remains taken to the funeral home for cremation. This was unexpected since I don't have a brother named Kenny.  I do have a stepbrother named Kenny that I don't know and that my father didn't care for and who I had not seen in over a decade.  So....I asked the hospital administrator why they did not send my dad on to the crematorium as previously requested...They said Kenny wanted to meet me at the hospital so we could sit and make decisions together. I promptly informed them that Kenny and I were not related and more importantly, that Kenny and my father were not related and never cared for each other. So, they immediately arranged for my dad to go to the funeral home as previously instructed. Drama over, right? Riiiiight.....not so much.

 

 

Later Friday night, Kenny calls to let me know he is in Asheville and ready to get together. (I SO wish I could convey his Rockingham, NC southern accent for you as I write)...I told him thank you and asked why he had stopped my dad's body from going to the funeral home.  He assured me he had no intention to interfere. (mmkay, so what was that?) I let him know that I was sorry he had driven to Asheville, but I wasn't there yet and that I had no idea what I would be walking in to when I did arrive and had no idea what condition I would find my dad's little 30+ year old trailer in and that I needed (planned) to do it alone as I didn't know what I might find, how I might react, and just needed to process things on my own rather than have a witness there with me. He hung up on me at that point and I went on about my night, hoping it was over. I'm oddly naive sometimes.  I did check in with my stepsister who is his blood sister (they are my late stepmom's kids) ...and she said to be very wary of him as he was a drug addict and nothing but trouble and that she and her other brother hadn't talked to him in years. Right about here is the time I thought I might start to lose my zen...

Cut to Sunday night before my drive to Asheville and I got a voicemail from Kenny. It was very disturbing and threatening. (Not the much preferred non-violent communication I have come to love and embrace since leaving the biological family fold so many years ago).  It's funny how quickly you can snap back to a reactionary place that you were conditioned to go to at times like this.

His message (again, I wish you could hear it in its authentic southern flavor - think "Larry the Cable Guy") went a little something like this.

"Mishayel, this is Kinney....Im'll call me some lawyers tomorrow mornin' and see what my raights up thar are. Whatever yew and yer "deddy" had planned...it ain't gone work, baby"...you'll learn not to be a bitch, and Im'll show yew just what I can be."  ??? What? Are? You? Talking? About?   He did end the call with a really sincere "you have a good day now" which I thought was a lovely touch. This was definitely the point at which I thought my zen was about to leave me and I was going to be sucked back into the vortex of darkness from which I came.  (sounds so ominous, doesn't it?)   For the record, my dad didn't have any money, he lived in the same single wide trailer that he had traveled from Texas in over 30 years ago, he barely had any furniture in it and was not the best housekeeper.  I found out exactly how bad a few hours later when I saw it, but I'll get to that later.

I took a deep breath and called Kenny from the road yesterday morning from a place of compassion and with a hope to understand where he was coming from.  I told him that his voicemail had really confused me and asked him if he was ok.  He was really, really angry, and actually reminded me of my father as his voice cracked and he let it all out.  I let him give me all of his pain and his anger from his mother's death back in 2003 and  just let him talk. He went around in circles...said a few disparaging things about me which didn't bother me at all because I knew he wasn't talking about me - or if he was, he didn't know me enough to have formed such an opinion. We have never known each other or spent any time together, and are pretty much strangers.

When he was finished I told him I was really sorry for his pain. That it sounded like he had carried that around for awhile. I told him again that his voicemail had confused me as I didn't quite understand what he needed a lawyer for as my dad didn't have anything. Then I assured him that if I found anything of his mother's or any instructions from her that pertained to him that I would absolutely make sure he got it. (thanks for the words Kate!)  I also told him that I really needed to do this by myself because of my own unresolved issues with my dad and the only way to have authentic reactions to it, and to let myself feel whatever I needed to feel, was to do it on my own so I could just be whatever I needed to be and react however I needed to react and to do it in as drama free a manner as possible. He told me I was being selfish and needed to put myself aside and understand that he needed to be there to help me. I told him again that I appreciated his intentions, but that I was doing it alone. He didn't really understand, but he let it go eventually.

 

 

Then, he said something I truly didn't expect. He started to ramble, well, his whole conversation was a rant and ramble about how awful my dad was and how much destruction he had created in the lives of many people (something I could not deny)...but then he revealed something about my dad that I was not aware of but when he spoke the words, I knew they were true. First he told me he knew my dad had beaten his mom....I knew this because he had battered my mother as well and she had mentioned he did the same thing to my stepmom, which makes sense of course. An abuser is an abuser, right? Then the shocker....he told me his sister, the one that my dad raised,  had a little breakdown a few years back and had let her husband and both her brothers know that my father had molested her as a child. She lived with him from the time she was 7 or 8 years old till she left home to get married.  I let those words sink in. My father molested my stepsister. No wonder she didn't visit him in the hospital. Fuck.

Yet, the minute he said it, I knew it was true. It pulled so many pieces of the puzzle together. Jealousy from my stepmom towards me. Warnings to me and my sister to never to go near his bedroom when he was back there. The unnatural hate my father had for the man my sister married, because he is a jolly, lovely guy.  It all made sense.  My dad's own father, (my grandfather) molested his own daughter (my aunt) when they were kids...and my granddad then did the same with all of the female grandchildren in my family...so I understood right away where my dad had learned this behavior.

 

But do you know what my immediate reaction, my gut feeling to hearing this news was? It surprised the hell out of me. But I realized that for my whole life, my father kept me at arms length, rejected, neglected, pushed me away, refused to have a relationship with me, to spend time with me, refused to let me move in with him and my stepmom when my own mother put a knife to my throat as a teenager...BECAUSE he LOVED me and did not want to do this to me. He must have known that he would and that it was a sickness and he wanted to keep me free of it. And that somehow made everything make sense in a way that it never had before.  Twisted? Yes.  But it did make sense, in an upside down, crack is whack, holy shit kind of way.

You may think I am crazy to share this (I'm not)...or you may feel sorry for me (don't)...or you may find yourself angry after reading this or find me deluded.  I'm not. I'm grateful.  Yes, that's right. Grateful.  Filled with gratitude.  Grateful to be alive.  Happy, no ecstatic to live the life that I live.  Still wildly in love with the world.  Maybe still a bit surprised at my sanity.  Sanity is subjective anyway, probably.

All I know is that for as long as I can remember, I have known that in spite of the ridiculously dysfunctional bunch I grew up with and around, that there are truly beautiful, loving, giving, warm and wonderful people on this planet and that I wanted to know them.  To be with them.  To find them, I had to get through my own struggles for years of course, as I was well conditioned to feel unworthy and separate from them.  For those of you I hurt along the way as I tried to find my way, (Richard and Scott) - I'm so deeply sorry.  Thank you for loving me, marrying me and for doing the best you could.  I had to figure it out on my own.   I wish you both love and peace and trust that you have found that in your lives since our divorce.  I know that you have.  And for that too, I am grateful.  You are both amazing, gorgeous, loving, kind, good, and fantastic men that I was incredibly lucky to share some of my life with.  Thank you, both.

But, the truth is - and it really is this simple - we are all connected.  And whatever you walk in, light or dark...your connection to others who are like you will increase and strengthen.  And because I know I have the choice to walk in light and beauty and wonder, that is where I live and love and will stay.

The crazytown I grew up in definitely gives me pause and I have worked hard to stay out of it and away from it...and you can probably see why re-entering it causes me to hold my breath and why I feel like I am drowning and fear that it will swallow me and that maybe I won't be able to get back to the peaceful and loving place I want to be in. But I learned something else on this journey...I've learned  that I do not belong in the darkness of my biological family...and that they can't hurt me anymore. Not ever.

And yesterday, when I met Mike, the big, burly, long haired and bearded motorcycle repair shop owner who was one of my dad's drinking buddies and he introduced me to a few more of his buddies in his shop - that my dad had made friends who considered him family and who thought he was a kind and good man.  They kept hugging me and telling me stories and telling me how sorry they were for my loss.  They know someone I don't know.  And I am truly grateful to have met them and to know that he had them in his life and that they knew a man who was different than the father I knew.  And I am grateful to have met them and for them to have introduced me to a new memory. 

You know, I really do love my little kumbaya existence.  And my cosmic tribe of family and people I love all over the world.  I don't know how I got to be so lucky, but it sure is beautiful.  If you're not doing what you love and being who you love and feeling gratitude for the mere gift of being alive...I hope you will find a way to get to that place.  It's breathtaking here. Join me?

Love and light...peace and gratitude... Ma'salaama, my friends.

Dear Dysfunction, I broke up with you years ago...

...it would be lovely if you would release me and find yourself a little bit of peace and happiness.

So, I'm at home in Williamsburg with my wonderful tribe of cosmic kin. It's been the most marvelous unplanned weekend in which I have been able to cram a whole lot of living and extraordinary time with my people I love.  Tonight I am filled with gratitude for the unexpected trip and the opportunity to spend time with Holly and Kate for their birthdays, to curl up on the couch and watch Glee with my Abby...to share some sushi for breakfast with Jake...to spend a great night out with Letty, Holly, Ricky, Christine and Mary...to enjoy several beautiful long bikerides with Holls and Mary...to enjoy the gorgeous fall weather that can be found in Virginia this time of year...so very grateful.

But, the lovefest and whirlwind of fun stops tonight and the rollercoaster of undealt with emotions, other people's baggage and the very potent reminder of exactly why I chose a long time ago to walk into the healthy light and away from the crazy, twisted darkness that my biological family and their bizarro offspring seems enmeshed in begins...I realize that is neither kind, nor zen, but I'm a little less than peace, love and happiness at the moment.

Tomorrow will consist of a 7 hour drive to Asheville to meet with the funeral home to sign some papers before they can issue a death certifcate, which the doctor who pronounced him dead has 5 days to sign...only once it is signed can they cremate my dad, so I will be long gone and back in Abu Dhabi before any of that can happen.  After the funeral home, I'll be heading to my dad's tiny old nicotine drenched single wide trailer, which I understand is infested with fleas...and which he has not kept clean...for years to dig through the very little that he had for the purpose of seeing if any of his clothes or furniture are salvagable enough to donate to the DAV...figure out if I can donate his vehicle without the title in my name or if getting such paperwork is doable within the 48 hour window I will have there.

While going through any records, if there are any, that my father may have left behind and making sure his utilities and internet are turned off, and that anyone he has debts with is notified of his passing...making sure his cat gets adopted and trying not to hope for some proof of unswerving love for his only child will be present somehow in pictures or in letter form...(pathetic, right? I know...I am taking baby steps and hoping for a return to zen soon)...I hope to reach some sort of peace and release and letting go of the relationship that has help me prisoner for a lifetime.

Angst, fear, not having idea what I am walking in to...they are threatening to overtake me. I mustn't let them.

"I must not fear. Fear is the mindkiller. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path.  Where the fear is gone there will be nothing.  Only I will remain."  (Frank Herbert - Dune) Great book, by the way, even if you don't like Sci-Fi - I recommend it!

Until it's right, it's wrong...

in the midst of upside-down dysfunctional bizarro-world...

...reaching for light and peace and love...in the hopes that it will eradicate the dark cloud of irrationality and insanity that seeks to uproot my zen.  I pray that I am successful.

Go sell crazy somewhere else...we're all full up here. (Jack Nicholson).  But really, if you wouldn't mind, hop on the peace train and ride off to another land, won't you please?

just, breathe...and rise from the ashes, phoenix.
 

My father died...today.

Prepare yourselves...this is going to be one of those totally self serving (which of my blogs aren't?)...I'm trying to work things out and through (ditto)...it may be full of drivel, it may speak to you, I have no idea, but I am writing because I have to so here goes....

My father died tonight.

Paul Douglas Musselwhite.  Born April 23, 1943. Died September 12, 2012.
Red Haired (fairly snowy for the past decade or so)
Green eyes just like mine
Too large lips...just like mine.
Cheekbones.  Facial features...fair skin and freckles - just like mine.

Judgmental. Lonely. Cantankerous. Unforgiving. Pretty intelligent. Really funny when he let himself go. Always thinking.  Always trying to heal himself or purge himself - not sure which and just never knowing how.  Full of anger. Sadness. Hurt. Betrayal. Misunderstanding. Wishes. Dissatisfaction.



Father of 3 or 4. 

• His first son, Paul Douglas Musselwhite, Jr.  Died after about 2 hours after a premature birth.
• Second child. A daughter...Paige Denise Musselwhite.  Died at 1 year old.  Down's Syndrome baby. Had double pneumonia at death.  What is double pneumonia? I don't even know. My middle name is Paige. I was named for her.
• Child number 3, daughter number 2....Me - not dead.  I did have Scarlet Fever and legend has it that I almost died...but here I am...and sadly, we all will die sometime.
• 4th child and daughter of questionable paternity...Heather Gabrielle Musselwhite.  Rumored to not belong to him.  I don't know. I wasn't there. I don't care. Thalidimide baby. Died at 7 months after several open heart surgeries.  Plagued with numerous birth defects as thalidimide babies were.  Remember people...miracle drugs are not miracles.  

I love them all and spent most of my life grateful that they didn't live to grow up in the loveless place I grew up.  Is that awful?  It's true. Awful or not.

With that said...I can't even begin to tell you how fucking glad I am to be here, but let me just say that I am thrilled.  Ecstatic.  As I have mentioned on many occasions - completely and wildly in love with the world. 

So, Paul Douglas Musselwhite, tonight I honor you.  I thank you. I salute you.  I am beholden to you. I am sipping a glass of wine in your honor.  Ok, so I have had two.  Your legacy of alcohol is not one I wish to mimic, so hopefully I'll stop before the bottle is empty. But, really, Daddy,  I am so very thankful for my existence and so very, truly, deeply sorry that I was not able to be there when you crossed over into wherever tonight. Maybe you didn't know what being a dad was about.  But, there were a lot of things about you that were pretty damn cool.

I guess it was today for you, when you died.  For me, it was around 747PM.  That was the timestamp on the text from my wonderful, giving, loving, selfless cousin, Karen who was with you when you slipped out.  (oh yeah, she's your niece, of course you know who she is).

Gratitude forever and ever, Karen.  That you were there and he did not have to die alone is a beautiful incredible act of humanity and beauty and love that I will never forget and a debt we know I can never repay.  I love you forever, "Asian me". Namaste. 

What else do I say? 

In the middle of the night last night, I received a call from the lovely and Scottish Dr. McQuiston, who has faithfully called me several times a day to update me and has answered her phone, time zones be damned, any time I have called her to check in on my dad.

It was she who called me tonight as I had just entered the taxi leaving my beloved Wednesday night - Yoga in the Park with my beautiful being-of-light friend, Neli. By my calculations, my father passed away about 15 minutes into our yoga session.  I'd like to say I felt his energy pass through me as he entered the next realm.  No safer place to be than yoga when something like that happens.

I can only say that I felt particularly focused and present and in the yoga tonight in a way I wish I were always.  There were no distractions...even the bugs that crawled over my hands and near my neck in savasana didn't distract me as they usually do.  So, maybe that was part of it.  I'm not sure. Maybe my energy knew.  I think so.  I do.

What I am sure of is this, and I need you, implore and beg you...to lean in and listen close.

Holding on to anger is bullshit.

Fear is a mindfuck.

Self doubt - more of a mindfuck.

Denial of forgiveness of people trying to make amends...ditto.

Not forgiving yourself.  A complete and utter waste of your fucking, beautiful life. Please, for the love of all that is....forgive yourself.  It is ok.  More than ok.  It is primary. It will save your life.  It will bring you sanity. 

Self loathing - the most complete waste of your time and life - if you feel this in any capacity STOP IT RIGHT NOW. Please.  Pretty, pretty please.

Grudges...bullshit.
Hate...utter unfounded,ridiculous, unserving, will-only-lead-to-your-demise-and-despair - bullshit.
So bigotry, prejudice, misogyny and all you other ridiculous, spiteful and fear and self doubt based thoughts and feelings - step off now.  There is not now nor has there ever been a place for you in my world...and I will go so far as to say, it is time for you not to be in our world at all. 

Love, people.  Just, love.  Please stop any of the toxic thoughts or behaviors you are participating in or harboring (see above) and love a life that you and the planet deserve and can benefit from.  You can make it happen.  You can start today.  Just decide to.  Oh, please, won't you? Please?  

So, ok...I sit here completely riddled with guilt.  Feeling things I am not and was not prepared to feel.
I've spent my entire life fantasizing about that perfect father-daughter relationship and not even knowing my dad.  He never let me in.  Never let any of us in the family in.  The funny and, well, not so funny thing is that I think he wanted desperately to be understood...to be known.  He just didn't quite know how to get there.  It is not lost on me that I could have helped.  But he didn't want my help.

And no, lest ye think this is about me feeling sorry for myself - NO.  It isn't.  This is just a little truth. Reflections.  Maybe a few wishes and hopes...but at the end of the day, just a reminiscence and hopefully a reminder to you.  Each of you.  To love yourselves.  And to live your life.  To remain OPEN.  To say yes, sometimes when you want to say no.  To know when to quit and walk in love and light to preserve yourself. 

The nutshell version of the Musselwhite saga is that I was born. I lived.  My parents fought. My pops abused my mom physically. (sucks, but it's true)... They divorced.  During this time my mom lost 3 children and I was left to be the one to blame. (This is heavy and real.  DO NOT DO THIS TO YOUR CHILDREN. It WILL screw them up for life.)  Love your children more than your pettiness and your need to cling to being a victim. It's ok to fall out of love with your partner and it's even ok to part with a spouse...but do so in love, and keep teaching your children how to love and forgive.  Don't teach them hate and bitterness and blame. I'm not kidding. They will eventually figure out that nothing is permanent, so it is loving to show them how to appreciate each moment and to have faith that new beautiful moments are always available to them. Damn, I shoulda had kids.  They'd be twisted little zen-warrior-poet-potty mouths. Maybe I'll adopt some yet.

But as for me and that stuff I went through, don't worry.  I'm ok.  I'm ridiculously lucky. I really am.  Don't know why.  I believe it is what I always say. Gratitude. Love. Choice... throw in some yoga, a fascination and love affair with life and the world...and I'm golden.  Really - truly, deeply, madly - GOLDEN.  I had some amazing teachers and influences early in life.

I call them Harriet McDonald, Anne Dorsey, Ella Musselwhite, Ora Burns, the Booker family, the Schuchards, Tonya and the Hornsby's, Amy Black and family, Mackey McDonald and his family, the Sinsley's, Susan Blackman, Mrs. Baucom, Rebecca Walters and her dad, Archie Walters and softball, volleyball, tennis, aerobics, swimming times with those folks...and exercise.  Solitude.  Long walks alone in the woods.  Learning to trust myself.  Learning to love myself.  Learning to forgive myself. 

The list of current day influencers continues and will hopefully unravel itself into some version of infinity.

I'm not sure how I could breathe without Kate, Letty, Holly, Ricky, Adam, Christine, Kevin, all your beautiful children!....

My Portugal loves - Peter, Sue, Kitt, Isabella, Lynn, Michelle, Erika, Nikita, Lisa, Mir, Iriske, Kathi, Agnes, Zahra, Sarah, Guy, Michael, Beth, Lisanne, Hannah, Georgina, Saskia, Rose...beautiful, magical, and amazing people....

My BMI family, who surely don't read this blog - Ed, Georgy, Brent, Tim, Craig, Shaun, JT, J-Lo, Salzie, Cwill, Stevens, Bobby....

But this isn't about me...

My father died today.

So many times I have imagined saying these words.  Not because I wished for it.  I didn't.  But simply because I knew it was inevitable and I wondered how I would feel when it happened considering our less than close relationship during my lifetime.

So, how do I feel?

I feel really, fucking sad.  Sad to have never gotten to know the man whose DNA and traits I share so predominantly - and whose personality traits I have more than I would like to admit. 

I feel loss.  Real loss.  I can't say missed opportunity - because I always tried.  Invited him to Christmas, Thanksgiving, weddings, graduations, summers, weekends, birthdays, 4ths' of July.  His answer always a firm and final "no". 

I planned to get on a plane tomorrow when they told me he would be around for several days and was transferring to hospice. So I do regret that did not happen as I got the news of his death about 3 hours after that conversation.  I live a minimum of about a 20 hour travel-flight time from merely landing in VA...so - it wasn't to be.

I never believed in that whole - things happen for a reason, or if things are meant to be, they will be.  But I have recently come to embrace and understand this way of thinking.

I met someone.  Not just "someone", but one of those someone's who make the whole past and future disappear. The "one" someone. The one who brings acceptance and peace and energy and understanding and utter calm to the table and makes everything make sense.  The one that I will not marry and have a white picket fence existence with and the one that makes none of that matter because my life has been tranformed just from knowing him.  He exists. I know.  That is enough.   Someone I'd like to know for the remainder of my days.  And someone I know without any doubt that I will love for all of those days. The one that makes me hear colors. Will we end up sitting in our unconventional rockers at age 102 and 100, gazing at a gorgeous sunset in Nepal or Costa Rica as we "break on through" and wrap up our earthly days in this lifetime? Well, I'd love to think so, but we all only ever have today. 

Repeat.  We only, EVER have today.

So, I have come to understand that if it is meant to be, it will be.  (we have to contribute to that energy for it to occur, I believe...word to the wise for those of you who think love grows unnourished.)  Whatever happens, happens. And will be accepted.  Appreciated.  And sown into my DNA and my soul.  Thank you, Outlaw. So very much gratitude. Come what may.

So...my father died today.   And with him, the hopes and dreams of the little girl I once was. But who knows? Without the experience  - I may not be who I am today.  And if you wonder who I am today, I'll tell you.  I'm happy.  I'm whole.  I am redundantly, in love with the whole world and with life.  And I blunder. I falter.  I mistake.  I will continue to do so.  But I am openly, gratefully, ridiculously, wildly, with every fiber in my being - in love with being alive.  And truly, deeply grateful for the gift of the life of the union that my father and my mother gave me. 

Love and peace to you, Daddy.  I know you never understood me or why I pushed so much.  Or understood what I was all about. (you're not alone there)....Or maybe you did.  I burn.  I burn with a flame and a fervor for understanding and learning and growth and compassion and love that I wish I could have shared with you.  I make no apologies for that. 

Wherever you are now...know that I love you and I thank you for making me.  And I thank you from the bottom of my heart for loving me the best and only way that you knew how.  It was enough.  It. WAS. Enough.

I understand.  I get it. I love you back.  With a whole and unburdened heart.  Maybe someday I will write more about the horrors you witnessed growing up - and that you trusted me enough to share.  I'm sorry I was too young at times to really fully comprehend it all.  I get it. Now.  I do.  I love you.  I thank you.  I wish you peace, love, light, healing, forgiveness and utter bliss on your journey.  Dream well, Paul Musselwhite.  Take good care.  If you see Mimi, Gladys, Paul Jr., Heather and Paige - tell them I love them too and hug them for me. 

And hey, as I've always said,  I'm right here if you ever want to talk.  I'll just listen.  You say whatever you need.  No judgment. Just love.

Rest in peace, restless soul,  And I do, love you.  Always have. Always will.

And the rest of you.  I love you too.  And remember, We only ever have today. And let me tell you, THAT is something to truly be grateful for. 

Let go...and be grateful

Ok, so this is a multi-layered topic and a quick word of warning to anyone interested in reading...this might get hop-scotchy and jump back and forth between seemingly unrelated topics, but I assure you I will do my best to try and tie it all together in a pretty little bow at the end, Insha'allah. (Um, I can't believe I just typed the Insha'allah, part.)

I went to bed with a particularly uneasy feeling last night, and had no idea what it was about.  Solar flares? Soulful angsty inner struggles? The fact that I was watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer reruns from Season One?...

I did figure it out when I awoke around 5AM and happened to see that my phone was flashing with a new email message.  Usually, I ignore these and go back to sleep because I know that if I engage in anything requiring mental awareness, I will usually find myself wide awake and unable to get back to that beautiful dreamland.  But, something told me to read it.  So, I did.  It was an email from my stepsister, Sandy.  We haven't seen each other since a brief 5 minute hello at her mother's funeral some years ago, though we were quite close when we were much younger. She was my hero and I literally thought she was the most amazing, beautiful and interesting creature on the earth. 

She taught me everything I would ever need to know about sex when she took me to a drive-in to see Saturday Night Fever.  I was 11 or 12, I think and she was 17 or 18.  On the drive home, she told me never to have sex, ever.  That it was disgusting and that all it consisted of was a boy putting his penis (pretty sure she said dick) inside a girl's vagina (pretty sure she said cooter...holy shit, that just made me laugh out loud to actually type THAT word...)...anyway - boy inserts penis into vagina and pees.

Pees?

Yes. Pees. I was horrified and assured her that I would NEVER have sex.  She was satisfied and said, "good."  It would only lead me to heartbreak.   Based on her description, I figured it would lead me to gagging or smelling like urine and just being completely grossed out - but heartbreak? Hmmm.... To this day, I am proud to say that no boy has ever peed in me (or on me for that matter).... Ok. Enough of this topic.

Her email subject line caught my attention instantly, and made my stomach flip into my throat while my heart stopped for a second.  It was my father's name. The email was quite unceremonious, completely devoid of emotion, love, compassion, or humanity.  She was simply passing on information.  It started with "I know you are probably upset with me, but I have had a lot going on here too." (No idea what she is talking about at this point as we have not been in touch all that much through the years).  The next lines informed me that my father was in the ICU at a hospital in Asheville.  She stated the floor number and the phone number and said that they needed a family member to call them to grant permission to intubate him as he has COPD.

Ok....first, he raised her, so why she doesn't consider herself as a family member is beyond me. (but I have no idea what growing up with him was like, nor what she went through, so I really am in no position to judge.)   She grew up in the house with him and my stepmom, while I only got to visit for a couple of weeks each summer and see them for a day or two over Christmas.  But she felt emailing this news to me and passing on the family responsibility to me was the appropriate thing to do even though she is in Asheville and I am in Abu Dhabi.  (don't worry, I'm working through this onset of bitterness). Second, if they are waiting for permission to intubate him - he is most certainly dead by now as she was emailing me instead of calling, and as her email had been sent around 4 hours prior.  So, I immediately call the number she gave me, which was not a working number...do a little internet search for the number of the hospital - get passed through about three gatekeepers to find the nurse that is assigned to my dad and one other patient in ICU unit.  They've already intubated him (thank goodness)....and just wanted to be in touch with the next of kin in case they needed me.  I know, I am sounding a bit more exasperated than usual here...this is the beginning of things I am learning that letting go is necessary. (D E E P   B R E A T H   H E R E).  The healthy choice.  The ONLY choice. 

So, I let go of trying to invent a story about why my sister handled this in the manner she did. One thing I should have come to terms with by now, is that within my biological family unit - if you're looking for normalcy, compassion, warmth...you came to the wrong place, kid. Lesson remembered. (Check.) She has her reasons and I can't begin to know what she has been through or experienced.  I know that she is a lovely person.  A good and kind person.  And a very loving person.  And she is still that beautiful person that I thought was the cat's pajamas when I was a kid.  She just has some scars and hurts that I can't even begin to understand.  And maybe I should make a point of getting to Asheville sometime soon and spending time with her and finding out.  And if not finding out, then just loving her and appreciating her. 

So, back to the story about my dad...the nurse informs me that he had been there for 4 days already, was pretty combative and was having great difficulty breathing while also suffering from withdrawal from not having access to alcohol.  She tried saying it as tactfully and kindly as she could.  I could tell she was searching for clinical words.  I assured her I understood and this was no surprise.  She seemed relieved.  Her name was June.  She was lovely. June...a lovely name for a lovely person.  She explained everything that had happened and would happen and assured me that for now at least, he was "stable".  They weren't sure if he had suffered a heart attack or if he just had elevated cardiac enzymes due to the difficulty breathing and the withdrawals.

As you can imagine, there isn't a hell of a lot I can do from over here in the Middle East.  And my dad and I haven't exactly been able to sustain a close bond since, well - ever...so I just talked to June a little bit and found her to be warm, compassionate, deeply caring, and well suited to her job.  I am grateful that June is with my father.  I am sure that he is as well.  I asked her to pass on a message for me.  She was happy to, and when we were hanging up, she assured me that she was going to go in and tell him right then. I have no doubt that she did exactly that.  I hope he heard her. I hope she will remind him whenever she remembers.

My message?  Please tell him that I love him.  And that I forgive him. 

Now, I am really of the opinion that the only one we need to forgive is ourselves in most situations as we are probably hardest on ourselves and deny that much needed self-forgiveness to our own detriment.  In this case, I really do forgive him.  I just let it go.  Let go of all the wishes for a father I never grew up with.  Let go of the dream of not being abandoned at age 3. Let go of blaming him for not living up to what the movie fathers did. For not saving me from my mother. (Which he no doubt was unable to do as he likely knew he had no salvation to offer as an alcoholic who lived his life admittedly angry at the world.)  For not coming to my high school graduation.  Or my college graduation.  Or my wedding.  Or my other wedding.  Or my other, other wedding.  He could be incredibly frank about it and actually approached the topic with a great deal of intelligence, humor and self reflection.  He apologized a few times over the years, and with each apology - I tried to mow him down and press him with the responsibility of now being the daddy I had been missing all that time.  I pushed too hard. I begged.  I asked him for things he couldn't give.  I expected things he couldn't deliver.  Maybe didn't want to deliver.  After all, he didn't know me any more than I knew him since I hadn't grown up with him, so letting me in would be taking a huge leap and chance that maybe he just didn't feel safe taking.  Who could blame him? Especially when I was always pushing...giving him tips and how to's on being the father I needed.  Pretty sure he appreciated THAT piece of advice. 

The point is, he gave me what he could.  He gave me what he was able to give.  He gave me what he had. And it wasn't enough for me. I just wanted more. Insisted on it.  And when he didn't give it. Punished him for it.  Did what a daughter who desperately just wanted a loving father in her life did when left to her own devices and imagination since he was not there. What a bitch I was! Seriously. I didn't get it.  Didn't understand and certainly didn't realize that my own behavior was serving to do nothing more than push him in the opposite direction.  This particular modus operandi was to be something I took with me into grown up relationships of the romantic sort with men as well.  Oh, you love me? Well, how MUCH do you love me?  Do you love me more than other people you have loved? What are you willing to DO for me? How are you willing to PROVE it? Oh, you're not willing to do anything more.? You're not willing to sell your soul?  Well, then I must not be good enough.  I must not be loveable.  I must not be enough.  Not worthy. Then the subsequent self sabotage and of course, eventual end of the relationship. What a fucking cycle!! This likely gives a bit more insight into why I have thrice been to the altar. OUCH! This whole soul bearing, self realization, coming to terms with your own vast and deep shortcomings is not for the weak, so you know.  GEEZ.

Disclaimer:  By marriage number 3, I was well past this sort of nonsense and self battery and was several years into the ongoing evolution to the peace, love and namaste place I am in now. I'm still learning, mind you.  In that particular case, I just didn't choose well.  At all.  But the marriage served to teach me even more by giving me a husband who actually required a level of self-sacrifice and soul-selling that I couldn't stomach without having a nervous breakdown - though I sure gave it one hell of a try and lost myself along the way.  A real eye opener that.  And a catalyst for permanent change. So, as ever - I am grateful for the experience.

So. I have let go.  I am pretty sure the actual letting go occurred some time ago, but today on the phone with June, the compassionate nurse, it all made sense to me on levels that maybe I had not considered before.  I think I have said the words "I forgive you" before to him, but maybe I didn't fully mean them.  Not because I was holding back - but because I didn't understand what they meant.  I understand now.  In much the way I have recently come to REALLY understand what love is.  I am understanding what forgiveness is.  And letting go.  And how to love myself.  And forgive myself.
There are no conditions or strings attached to forgiveness, just as there are no conditions and strings attached to love. You just DO it. You choose it. You forgive, because not to forgive doesn't serve you.  You love, because there is nothing else in the world that does serve you.  Because you are made of love and energy and realize that nothing else matters.

This is much of what yoga teaches us.  Has taught me.  Breathe.  Let go.  Be present.  Forgive.  Love.  Radiate. Vibrate in the light and at a higher frequency because the understanding that whatever we believe and give energy to, comes back to us multi-fold. Be.  Meditate.  Seek to understand people.  Love them.  Even if you don't understand them.  Grow.  Keep growing.  Love.  Love some more.  Make mistakes.  Forgive myself when I do. Have courage. Walk into life without fear. Give just to give.  Not to get.  Not for reciprocity.  Not for anything to be proven.  Not to EARN anything.  Not to gain anything.  Gratitude.  And more gratitude.  Calm. Peace. Light. Beauty. Consideration. All of these things have always resonated within me.  And have always been the place I came from.  And am happy to be returning to.  A little childhood-life-situation-conditioning was my obstacle to overcome.  It was my personal microscope to view up close and painfully personally what I needed to do to bring about positive change in my life and the world around me.  (if you're wondering what that was  --- it was CHOICE.)  Choosing to rise above, believe, forgive, and love.

It's all pretty fucking grand, when I really think about it.  (I realize I may have overused the F word in this blog, my apologies.  I am supposed to be working on this sunny Saturday afternoon and have notes and papers and lists and tasks strewn all about me, but the pull to write brought me here today.)  I need to forgive myself that also.  Ok, done.  Forgiven.  All will get done and all will be ok. 

So, what is the takeaway here? The usual...life is too short...live in the present...focus on the moments, not the material....accept that nothing in life is permanent and appreciate FULLY whatever amazing gifts we receive from minute to minute...recognize what is real and what serves you and what doesn't. 

If it makes your heart sing, makes your soul expand, makes the colors in your life brighter and vibrates with light, intensity, beauty and understanding...if it makes you better, encourages healthy growth, seems to lead you down paths you didn't know existed before or that you thought were closed to you...give it your love and your attention.  Feed it.  Water it.  Love it. "It" can be another person, a Shaman, a passion, an idea, an inspiration, a discovery, a calling, a dream, a goal...whatever.  When you find IT, love it. If "it" loves you back. Golden! If it doesn't.  Love it anyway, and then let it go.

I have discovered that the love that you give freely and without negotiation will be given back to you. So love. And let go.  And be grateful.  I am. 

I've also discovered that the conventional ways of doing things...living, loving, being, walking my path - is not for me.  Maybe I can even claim a little kinship with Kate Hepburn on that one. 

Walk YOUR path.  Live YOUR truth.  Let other people decide what their path and their truth is.  It isn't your place or my place to decide for them.

Namaste ya'll and if you hung in here this long...thanks ever so!

August light...

Have you ever noticed exactly how very beautiful August light is? Do you have any idea what I mean when I say "August light"? I'm certain I am not the one to discover it, but I first noticed it as a young barefoot girl walking around my dry, sandspur studded yard in southern North Carolina listening for the sounds of birds, getting lost in the flight of dragonflies, picking wildflowers, and dreaming of the day when I could grow up and travel and see the world. 

I've always had an affinity for August...the end of summer merging into fall...new beginnings around the corner with a new school year...the deepest, darkest greens appearing on the leaves all around just before they start to burn in brilliant bursts of yellow, orange, red... sigh...

But there is something about the exact tilt of the earth and how it sun dances across the world in August.  I've seen it in Costa Rica, North America, Europe and in the Middle East - so I've got to believe there really is something special about August light. It glows with a more subtle gold than the relentless July sun.  August light is beautiful and sorrowful at the same time.  It is full of promise and bittersweetness for things you can't even name.  I'm not talking about the nostalgia of back to school blues, no more beach time, no more backyard barbecues, no more carefree weekend drives to nowhere...(because when you grow up and realize you have the power of choice, you still do these things and get to experience them all in a more sublime and beautiful way).  I mean, the beach is great in the early throes of summer - but a sunset in the Outer Banks or the Outer Hebrides or Oman in the late August or early September is pretty hard to beat.

August light brings magic with it...and brings it with purpose and intent. Why, this very August in fact, I was in the exact right place at exactly the right time in the presence of the exact right energy that seemed conjured up by the Universe herself. As Augusts go, this was one for the books.

You've heard me mention my whole deal with gratitude, right? I know, broken record....as broken records go - we could all do worse, so indulge me? Thanks. So back to gratitude. I'll tell you, because you may want to have your own little gratitude experiment to see what it brings you....

Gratitude. Is. Life. Love. Everything. THE. THING.

Living and walking in gratitude and maintaining this passionate love affair with the great big world has done more for me than I could ever begin to tell you. (but you know I'm gonna give it the old college try, right?)

I dig rolling this way...wish ya'll would roll with me. Maybe we'd stop watching reality TV and invading each other's countries and demeaning anyone who disagrees with us and would pay attention to what we feed our bodies, our minds, our children, our hearts, our souls, OUR PLANET. She's been so good to us...she just loves us, it's so time to love her back. And ourselves. And our bodies, our minds, our children (ok that's a given - -so make it our metaphorical children...let's say our progeny 1000 years from now), our hearts, our souls. I know I sound all "shiny, happy, people" and like the biggest hippie peace freak, but WHAT matters more than loving each other? And loving ourselves? And loving our planet? I can't imagine.  Not for the life of me, I can't.

I wish we could let our fears of the great unknown go and that we could collectively summon the courage to think for ourselves and not worry about disappointing our parents or looking weird to our friends and could just drop all the bullshit and wrap our arms around each other and get to know our neighbors on this planet. That's my completely bastardized version of the "I Have a Dream Speech". (Don't worry, I'm not quitting my day job any time soon.  Not yet, anyway.)

The last several paragraphs are all complete digression, because what I came to talk to you about is August light - and gratitude and love. (yes, again - geez stop rolling your eyes...there's something to be said for all this Namaste and shit, believe it or not!!)

Honestly, I can't pretend to know what your journey is about or where you are going or what is important to you.  It's taken me quite a while to figure out what mine is all about and it's obviously still a work in progress because - well, it IS a journey, right? Rigggght. And what a journey it is! And now that I have embraced it and sown it into my DNA, it is still scary sometimes.  (Scary in an oxymoronic peaceful and loving way, of course, but still scary in all the regular ways as well.)

As idealistic and idyllic as it sounds, I really do just want us all to live in peace and harmony and to take care of one another, and to help each other and love each other and for everyone to see and feel the beauty that I see in every face I look upon, and the overwhelming love I have for this world and the people who inhabit it.

And no, my life isn't perfect.  Far from it. I make LOTS of mistakes - I've perfected that into an art form.  I am quite certain I offend people on a regular basis with my outspokenness, I don't have a lot of possessions (but then I don't want them). I have my share of debts along with a bulging pocketful of failed relationships/marriages, (or wisdom picked up on the journey), no children of my own, (but I have the most amazing children in my life ~ Abby, Izzy, Jake, Maddie, Cooper, Annabelle, JJ, Jordan & Ashton - I know you girls aren't children anymore....STOP GROWING UP! :) ), an apartment that lacks many of the comforts of home (but it's free), an aging visage, I'm 7500 miles away from the majority of the people I love (but you are all with me everywhere I go), and I gave up on the corporate ladder climbing rat race some years ago (and I couldn't be more delighted about that, mind you!)  I could go on and talk about my gray hair and my cellulite and my childhood - but why? It doesn't serve me. And it doesn't matter.

Do you want to know what else? I have NEVER been happier in my life. Ever. And I don't have a magic formula for you - remember, there ISN'T one...but I can tell you this. And I want you to lean in and listen close because this is the truest truth I have ever known.  If you love, I mean truly LOVE the world with all of your being and walk in that same love and gratitude and treat others with kindness and can manage to live without too many expectations and just accept whatever comes your way and know that everything that happens to you is a chance and an opportunity to grow and learn and yes, love - THE WORLD WILL LOVE YOU BACK. And come what may, everything WILL be ok.

This isn't about being docile or complacent or not fighting for what you know to be right or standing up for what you believe in when necessary....it's about choosing to put on those rose colored glasses and just leaving them on for the simple fact that everything is more beautiful when you wear them.  And when you dwell in a positive place of love and beauty - then more of that comes your way. Alternately, when you dwell in negativity and distrust and hate, well, naturally more of that comes your way too.  And given that you have a choice....come on - you do know that you have a choice by now, don't you?  Ahem...so given that you have a choice, I think it would be kind of marvelous if you'd give that whole shiny, happy, hippie, peace, love and namaste shit a chance.

I suppose if you have to get nitpicky, then John Lennon's version was a bit easier on the ears..."All we are saying...is give peace a chance..."

And as for August light...that IS where this whole blog started...let me just say that this August put the color in August light. If you wonder what gratitude can bring you...I can tell you what it brought me.  Besides peace, stillness, and healing, it gave me a magical full moon night on a secluded middle eastern beach, a transformative evening learning about tolerance in Islam from deeply inspirational speakers, a surreal sunset in the desert enveloped in silence (and the occasional stomach gurgle), a sweat-drenched run on a Formula 1 racetrack, blissful yoga in the park, breathtaking hikes up a mountain and through a canyon, a starlight swim in surpringly phosphorescent waters, a night under the stars engaged in chakra blowing healing rituals and conversations, enchanting and entertaining dinners in deserted restaurants, shamanic dreams, a beautifully bittersweet sunset drive home from Oman singing, laughing, being, enjoying...and the discovery of my soul in another's soul and another's soul in mine. And so much more. That's what gratitude gave me. And I'm not finished, not by a long shot.  Why not find out what gratitude will give you?

Yeah, August light...it's the haps. September light ain't bad either...grab some and drink it in.

This is August light on my favorite running trail in Jamestown Island, VA. (August 2011)
Big sigh...