Tuesday, January 15, 2019

An Old Picture

An old picture from years ago,
a different time, a different life,
my cells have regenerated,
transforming me...
I am me, and yet, no longer me.
I am wiser.
I am grateful for the beauty
Of Mother Earth.
I have learned...
I am the author of my life.
I choose the perspective,
and therefore,
the story I tell myself.

I have shed the role of victim
for the role of Creator.

I choose...
to forgive the betrayals
to accept others as people on the planet doing their best
to love unconditionally
to trust Spirit
to listen to my intuition
to live joyfully
to speak my truth with love
to laugh
to offer kindness
to embrace my life lessons.

And so,
I release the past
and that which no longer serves me
with Love and Compassion.

And I am free.
Laurie xo

Saturday, October 1, 2011

One Blog Ends, Another Blog Begins

 
 
 
                                   This plant has been around since the dinosaurs, literally.
Change. I’m trying to embrace change as I’m attempting to listen to what the Divine guides me to do. However, I must confess that switching from Blogspot to WordPress has truly tested my resistance issues and willingness to change. How ironic that last Sunday’s blog was all about CHANGE OR DIE! Yes, that is exactly how I have felt the past couple of days.

A few days ago, I struggled with my blog at Blogspot, and I clearly knew that I’m supposed to switch blogging sites. I won’t even go into all of the details, but suffice it to say that it has been a struggle. Why? Simply because I was accustomed to how to create my blog. It was comfortable and quick. My new blog has taken hours today.
That said, I know that I’m on the right path, and as my resistance has melted today, I’m very aware that this truly feels right. In a few days, I’ll be thrilled that I’m able to navigate through this new site with ease.

The above plant from the times of the dinosaurs has survived for millions of years, and I believe that is a miracle. For the rest of us, it seems that beyond Love, Trust, and Faith very little survives without accepting and adapting to change. So I embrace change again.

This will be my last post on Blogspot, and my very first post on WordPress.

I am grateful that as one door closes, another door opens.

Namaste,
L

Friday, September 30, 2011


Mother Nature ushers in the changes that comes with the crisp autumn breeze. The leaves are just beginning to change from the shades of summer leaves and grasses to the brilliance of reds, yellows, and oranges. This tree's journey shifts from the warmth and growth of summer into the transitional phase of the fall. Transitioning from the green pallettes to the more vibrant colors entices us to awaken and to treasure the change because we know that the beauty is fleeting.

I listened to my sons tonight as we came home after a busy day of school and night of visiting waterfalls, dinner out, and relaxing trip to Barnes and Noble.

"Come on, Buddy. Let's sleep downstairs tonight."

"Ok, let's bring all of the blankets and pillows down. We'll sleep in your (hunting) blind."

"You take this side. I'll be away from the door because you know I'm afraid."

"Good idea. You sleep in the back, and I'll protect you. We need our DS's but don't tell Mom 'cause she'll confiscate them. Hide them under the pillows."
"Good thinking. We need our books too, in case we can't sleep. We can put those on the pillows. What about my nightlight?"

"Yeah, I was just thinking about that. Here's the only place where you can see it. Let's turn the blind."

"So, I was thinking about lightning. If I throw a lightning bolt at you, like this, what are you going to do?"

"Well, I'm going to block it like this, and then I'll bend all of the water at you, and you can't block it because you're too weak and haven't recovered from the the lightning bolt. That takes a lot out of you."

"True. Then I'll have to use hypnosis on you to heal you after the water bending or else you won't be able to fight with me."

And, I listen, aware that they are in a special place of friendship and tweendom. They ooze with excitement that they get to sleep on the floor in the living room, and I feel as though I must relish these moments because they are all too fleeting.

I am grateful to the changing leaves, who reminded me of change. The changes are neither good nor bad. Ask the leaves or the tree how they feel, and I'm sure that there is simply an acceptance of change.

"Yes, my leaves are green. Now, changing into bright leaves. Soon they will fall as I am bare in the winter."

My sons are growing and changing right before my eyes.

Today, I will embrace my sons where they are without lamenting the past as I did the best I could and without worries for tomorrow as I will support them as they grow and change. I choose to be aware of their brilliant beauty in the moment.

Namaste,
L

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Inner Landscape

Journey to my inner landscape.
'Tis here you'll find the real me.
Skies for me to soar.
Mountains for me to climb.
Valleys for me to explore.


Forests for me to climb trees.
Fields for me to dance in.
Canyons for me to sing and to hear myself respond.


Waters for me to meet myself in reflection,
to slip into my unconscious,
to glide with the flowing current,
to swim into the depths of my soul.




It is in these peaceful depths
where my light burns ever bright
where I find my inner knowing
where I find myself
where I am
balance
resides.



May I have the courage to journey within, to explore the shadows, and to emerge stronger, even brighter.

Namaste,
L



Wednesday, September 28, 2011


Words to inspire us
Words to strike out, wounding us
Words to open hearts.


May I choose my words with care today because my words really do matter.

Namaste,
L

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

My hammock.

Ahhhhh. Deep sigh of contentment.

Yes, this is my sanctuary where I can simply let go and feel completely supported. It sways slightly, and I am a baby being rocked in the safety of loving arms. Then my boys climb on and snuggle with me; well, that's a bit idealistic as they pretend that it's a ship on the high seas in a storm. But, every once in a while, we do share a very peaceful moment.

My hammock holds so many memories.

It was a wedding gift from my husband. He bought it and assembled it with great love and care the week of our wedding. (Perhaps it was an early wedding gift.) It was a rope hammock originally, and I first experienced complete and total tranquility for the first time when I laid on it under the oak tree in our side yard. It was the only time my mind stopped racing and my body stayed still. I watched clouds through the leaves. It's where I imagined the the knot in the tree trunk was a human face, or maybe even the face of a gnome. My imagination opened for the first time in a very long time.

As winter approached and it was too cold to lay outside, Richard humored me and brought my hammock into the living room. When I was pregnant with Pete, I would come home after a long day of teaching and melt into the white ropes. It supported my growing tummy and my achy muscles. I would inevitably fall asleep as the stress of the world disappeared. Even nine months pregnant, it was comfy and the place I went for complete comfort and relaxation. I must confess that it was challenging rolling out of it in the last weeks before I had Pete, but it was also good for a laugh.

When summer came, we moved the hammock back outside, and Pete and I would cuddle in it. He loved watching the cats run in the grass, the birds land on the deck in the cat's hunting arena, and the walkers passing by. He liked to climb up and then down and then up and then down. Sometimes, he would rest upon my chest, and we would both fall asleep--Pete in my arms, me in the supportive arms of the hammock.

Having an active toddler, we decided not to set the hammock up in the living room. Sigh. I missed my friend, but I also quickly realized that my moments of lounging in the hammock were too brief to reach a place of calm. Then along came Danny, and now our hammock moments were definitely short moments of cuddling broken up by giggling and mischievous little boys. The boys loved tipping the hammock until they fell out. They laughed and laughed--real belly laughs that made me laugh really hard too.

Unfortunately, the ropes weren't made for the rough and tumble life that we now had. They began to fray and snap. Knowing how important the hammock has been to me, Richard replaced the ropes with the sturdier material that now hangs on the original stand. I mourned for the ropes, which embraced me. However, watching the boys play and snuggle on it, I knew that with our small children that it was a very practical choice.

I think the memory of the boys and Richard on the hammock that stands out the most was when the boys were about two and four. I left them to go to the store for about 15 minutes. When I returned home, I found all three of them naked. Grinning, very proud of themselves, the boys announced all of the places that they had watered around the yard. This adventure was Daddy's way of potty training the boys. They would rest on the hammock and drink their "grog" and then water the grass and trees.

When we moved, we found a new home for it on our front porch. Again, it became my respite. It's where I retreat when I just need to relax. It supports me and sways me gently in its gentle embrace. The boys come to cuddle less frequently, and it's no longer a ship in a storm. Times have changed. We've all grown up. There are times, when I find one of them nestled in with a book on the hammock reading "just to get away" or "just to calm down for a while."

My hammock has the best view of the sky, and it holds treasured memories.




I am grateful that my husband gave me such a wonderful wedding gift, the gift of support and safety. I now gaze at the deer in our front lawn, our cats hunting, the boys riding bikes in the driveway, the birds flying from tree to tree, the trees rustling in the breeze, and the clouds shape-shifting in the ever-changing sky. I am blessed to have a little piece of Heaven here on Earth. I am grateful that I can appreciate my blessings. What a wonderful gift!

We all need to find that place where all is well in the world. One of my gateways to my inner place of harmony and peace is swaying gently on my hammock.

Namaste,
L


Monday, September 26, 2011

Raspberry Awaits

The raspberry, a ruby glowing
in the light of the setting sun.
It calls to me as if to say,
"You have come.
I have been
waiting."

I embrace its beckoning,
framing the moment
it caught my eye.
I give thanks
smiling.


I pluck the precious jewel from the vine.
It smiles its thanks in my hand,
"Thank you, my friend.
I knew that this too
would pass,
and you
would
show
 up."

                                                                     What
                                                                                                          Faith
                                                                                     such

                                                  a
                                                            small
                                                                             berry
                                                                                          d
                                                                                             i
                                                                                           s
                                                                                                p
                                                                                        l
                                                                                            a
                                                                                       y
                                                                                               s
                                                                                                  !



May we recognize our blessings with such faith.

Namaste,
L