Gratitude

The holiday season, particularly Thanksgiving, often causes us to reflect on what we're grateful for in our lives. Health, family & good friends usually top that list, along with a roof over our heads & food on the table, and an overall contentment with how our lives are progressing. Like many people, I try to make it a practice to "count my blessings" during this time, especially to balance the near-constant demands of our material-driven culture that insists we buy every shiny new object & technological toy. But for this holiday season, I've decided to ponder a different nuance of gratitude that I rarely hear people talk about: Space.

"Space" of the spiritual variety is what occupies the gaps in our hearts when unexpected changes happen in our lives. We didn't get the job we wanted, or the romantic partner we'd longed for, or the house we had our hearts set on. Instead, we're left with our dreams still throbbing in our hands, struggling for breath, searching to find a new goal or object to pin our cherished hopes upon.

And what we suddenly have before us, whether we like it or not, is a blank canvas. An open horizon. A new path ahead with no road map to go by or compass to provide direction. 

And that, in itself, can be an extraordinary blessing, if we allow it. How often I have been grateful for the road less traveled by! Did I deliberately choose it? Heavens no--I can count many times when I was left dizzied & gasping after the whirlwind of change, wondering what the heck I was going to do with myself once the dust & debris finally settled. But luckily, there's always been an inner voice inside me that said, "Don't be in a rush to fill up this space too fast. Set your table and put out your chairs, roll out your best china & finest wine, and let the next things that are supposed to be a part of your life gently come to you. Be grateful for the space."

Could that have been the Angels talking? I honestly think so. Because my natural inclination is to be a "fixer." Like many of you, I endeavor to have all my ducks in a row, to stick with a plan, to envision myself the way I'm "supposed to be" at this point in my life, including all of my imagined goals & glorious achievements. But what if the universe has a more interesting & soul-enriching idea?

So for this Thanksgiving, what I'm most grateful for is the gift of space--those odd quirks of fate that disrupted my plans & directed me to new paths I never would have encountered, which made more intriguing & creative choices possible. They say where one door closes, a window opens. And I believe that sometimes those windows lead to miracles we might never have experienced otherwise. Moments of serendipity where all appears lost--only to discover that there is a far more fascinating destiny awaiting you. But only if you can take a deep breath, relax, and allow the space to demonstrate its special brand of magic. If you can let yourself be content that space will do its gentle work in your heart & in your life, that is exactly the horizon that leaves room open for where your soul might really need to be. 

Oh, and by the way, did I mention I saw 10 turkeys on my jog in Colorado today? Truly wild turkeys are well known as the "ghosts of the forest"--the most elusive game animals of all. Like the gentle space I've been speaking of, they don't announce their presence with harsh, "gobble-gobbles". Rather, they move quietly, swishing the grass with their carefully placed feet & beautiful feathers as they move with the precision of seasoned ballet dancers. Their soft chortles are more like rhythmic purrs than "gobbles", if you stop long enough to listen. And they'll only remain in your presence when you pause in silence & allow them the grace to occupy their special kind of space, for they are very shy & dignified birds. 

And quite frankly, I couldn't help viewing them as a unique omen for the state of being I was inhabiting, one where I actually gave nature the room to speak in profound, non-verbal ways that are perhaps richer than all my well-laid plans. Like me, I hope you can take the time out to reflect on such moments of wild beauty & soul-opening space. Something tells me that if we allow these instances to affect us, they just might lead us to where our souls long to be after all. And for that, we shall be forever grateful . . .

(Photo credit note: All images on my blog are either my own or were gleaned from pictures in the public domains of popular social networks like facebook or pinterest. If you own the copyright to any of these images & do NOT want them used publicly, please contact me & I will take them down immediately! : )

A Mother's Angel Visit

Can you spot the Angel in this photo? Okay, I'll admit it—I'm an Angel Junkie. I believe there are Angels all around us, nurturing us along & whispering in our ears, not only to provide wisdom & protection but also to lead us toward joy. I've lost track of how many times a song came on at the grocery store that was just what I needed to hear, or a book fell off the shelf that gave my heart solace or opened up a whole new journey for me. I've even seen strangers who seemingly popped out of nowhere to say a few discerning words or dispense almost unearthly advice—and I later wondered if they were Angels. If you've ever read my post "Angels Among Us" (you can click on it here), then you already know I believe I've had some direct contact with otherworldly assistance. Not because I was seeking it out (I don't attend Angel channeling seminars or meditate on archangels), but simply because my mother had always taught me, as Shakespeare once said, that "There are more things in heaven and earth...than are dreamt of in your philosophy." In other words, she encouraged us to be open to ideas that sometimes bypass the limitations of our brains & can only be understood in the heart.

And one thing my mother ardently believed is that joy not only attracts Angels but every good thing in your life. Where she got all this wisdom was a mystery to me as a child, but as I grew older and learned, bit by bit over the years, more about her, I found out exactly why she was so wise. My mother's father abandoned her family in the Midwest when she was a baby, and her own mother died at the age of 42 of alcoholism. My mother's childhood was spent in poverty being tended to by strangers in bars during the Great Depression, and life for her was very tough. Never once did I hear her complain about her childhood, however, because in her eyes, she saw her relatives as broken people who were doing everything they could—and not many people had it much better back then. Yet the one thing my mother learned early on to survive was to tap in to that "still, small voice" that always led her to a more positive journey. This was long before New Age philosophy entered the picture or you could watch Oprah talking to cutting-edge spiritual pundits on TV. As a result, my mother's "spiritual radar" was finely tuned. She was downright spooky in her ability to "read" everyone she met, and if she ever gave you advice you damn well listened because her perceptions were uncanny. The closest thing I've ever seen to someone like my mother was that wonderful woman in the kitchen baking cookies who turned out to be the great Oracle in the film The Matrix. Seemingly a benign housewife, she's the one who knows far more about Neo's (Keanu Reeves) situation & future than he does—and luckily, he's smart enough to recognize a highly-developed soul when he sees one.

So even though my mother's body was later in life racked by a debilitating auto-immune disorder & advanced arthritis, I wish I could impart to you the way her face SHINED. People came from all around just to be near her & to fill up their weary spirits. Our kitchen was always packed with visitors because every one who left my mother's presence felt stronger, brighter, and more able to see their path forward because of her strength & glow. Yet she was no namby pamby woman who spouted limp-wristed cliches like "Have a nice day." She was as strong as a military general with a soaring heart to match—because every day she talked to her Angels. Not in moans & complaints but in celebration. Yes, we were that peculiar family that ran around the house singing heart-bolstering songs and banging pots & pans & thanking God nearly every time we turned around for sunshine! Food! Health! And a fabulous new day! My mother didn't give a rip if anybody thought she was crazy town—she knew that like attracts like, what you say with your mouth will come to pass, and truly smart people invite Angels to their parties. Because above all, Angels love parties. 

As you can imagine, life with my mother was a BALL.

And I have no doubt that after my mother passed away, she became an Angel. In fact, during her life she was always looking forward to it. And yes, I even had a vision of her once in her new role. She appeared to me while I was in the kitchen baking cookies for holiday guests (how appropriate!) & no one else saw her but me. Yet her presence felt so natural that for a moment, like an idiot, I didn't register anything was unusual, though she'd been dead for over a year. That's because she didn't feel like a ghost at all—she radiated light & warmth. And when my brain suddenly kicked in & I recognized that this was a unique & sacred moment, I suddenly gasped, "Mother! The kingdom of God?" Those were the only words my stunned self could spit out—I wanted to know what it was like for her in Heaven or whatever dimension she went to. My mother merely smiled & replied with gusto, "You're going to love it!" before she disappeared. The overwhelming feeling I got from her is that she's very busy. She's an Angel now doing what she loves best—helping other people endure & shine brightly, only without the health restrictions that she had in her earthly life. And it didn't go unnoticed by me that she appeared during a time while I was baking & experiencing joy. That's what my mother imparted to me—that the path of delight is indeed the path of Angels. As she always said, "Never underestimate the power of joy. Every moment of laughter & dancing holds the seed of triumph & victory."

So while I was on a walk on a sunny spring afternoon recently near Mother's Day, feeling particularly happy for the warm weather & the sun on my back, I happened to look up in the sky & see a spontaneous Angel image in the clouds. Of course, I had to smile and say "thank you" for the Angel's gentle visit—because for all I know, it could be my own mother. And one of the things I'm most grateful for as we approach Mother's Day is the way my mother taught us to be open to serendipity—those random moments of sheer delight—for these are the pearls that we string together to make our lives  bright. I hope your Mother's Day will sparkle & be filled with those simple moments of sheer joy that open your heart to eternity.

If you would like to read my post about my mother's health miracle, click here.

P.S. Keep on the lookout this month for the debut of my new novel Stone of Thieves, the incendiary sequel to Robin in the Hood! After reading this post, now you know why I so often feature feathers & other reminders of Angels in my fiction <3

(Photo credit note: All images on my website are either my own or were gleaned from pictures in the public domains of facebook, pinterest, or other popular social networks. If you own the copyright to any of these images & do NOT want them used publicly, please contact me & I will take them down immediately! : )