Dream On...and on...and on...

Photograph by Fran Murphy
What’s the difference between having faith and magical thinking? Faith sounds much more grounded for some reason. Like it’s anchored to something tangible. Whereas magical thinking sounds like it has no boundaries at all. It’s all over the place… like dust. With magical thinking one could wish to be Peter Pan, or perhaps Rocky Balboa.

Magical thinking often escorts me to my daydreams, helping me to see everything that I yearn for, inciting my heart rate to quicken…and my mouth to water with desire. I envision myself holding the sought after trophy, taking my grateful bows…and it somehow changes me. Wondrously, it elevates my faith and inspires me to believe that nearly anything is possible!

I heard a story once about a woman who kept telling everyone that she was going to win the lottery. After a while people got sick of hearing her rant on and on about it. Friends began avoiding her…thinking that maybe she had blown a fuse...or two. Her father finally forbade her to speak on the subject when in his company. Then one day she won eleven million dollars. She phoned her father… hysterical, and told him that she had won. Disgusted with her latest delusion…he hung up on her. So, she drove to his house and presented him with the proof. He was an instant believer.

Did she create her own destiny with the positive words that she spoke? Was she a psychic? Or did she just have a hunch…a gut feeling that she couldn’t shake? Then again maybe it was all a coincidence and she was incredibly lucky. Of course there are all types of ways to attract luck. In Japan the white Maneki Neko (Lucky Cat) is valued for inviting in happiness, and the black Maneki Keko is valued for getting RID of bad luck. Yet, in America we bite our nails when a black cat crosses our path. I don’t know much about superstitions… but I do think that belief systems are incredibly interesting.

When it comes to making our dreams come true I think that we need to take advantage of every resource available to us….both tangible and magical. Positive words, thoughts, and visuals, coupled with hard work and determination. Not to mention the very fundamental, and often overlooked, rites of prayer and meditation. There are so many wonderful ingredients at our disposal!

Life is ours to do with as we choose. Some may choose to curse the darkness and make excuses for why they have given up. While others use that very same darkness as a stepping stone to reach higher places, strategically ignoring the naysayers and dream slayers, until they finally reach their desired destination.

People achieve their dreams every day. So…if you have a fantastic dream don’t give up on it. Keep on believing, and doing what you must do, until you breathe your last exalted breath and they’re printing out copies of your legendary obituary.
Aerosmith says it well...

“Dream until your dreams come true.”

To the Gallows...Again.

What do you do when troubles build up and realistic options don’t seem to exist? I tend to panic, hyperventilate, and worry until the waters of my mind become muddied and I can’t think clearly any longer. This tends to frighten me even more than the original problems did. I continue in this mode until I’m paranoid….certain that I can hear the mournful bells tolling, the gallows being built….and my halting footsteps climbing the scaffold to my imminent doom. It is at this point that I finally give up….let go….and say screw it, surrendering to life and all that it holds for me.

This process is similar to when you lose something really important and frantically search every where for it….only to come up empty handed. Defeated, you count the precious thing as lost and cease your searching. Then lo and behold the item turns up on its own a few days later. “Oh! It was right here all along.” You sing, holding that precious item and determining to be much more careful with it in the future.

Well, that’s what I mean by surrender. You search and search for answers…. but there are none to be found. Finally, with tears and sighing, you let go…and somehow the answers eventually find you. It’s as though life sends them, like winged messengers, to your side. “Ah” you say, “so this is how it’s done. The next time I’m going to surrender from the start instead of driving myself insane.” But, when the next time rolls around (and it will) you do the same fearful walk to the gallows. Why can’t we just let things go when we hit a dead end? Because we underestimate the importance of faith; and overestimate our own abilities to fix stuff.

Letting go is scary…it requires faith that things are as they should be, for now, and that they will eventually improve with time. It also requires us to live in our troubles, work alongside of them, and sleep with them, while fighting the urge to slay them. Acceptance, faith, and surrender…. …when will I learn?!

This Chinese proverb speaks loudly on the subject of surrender: “Muddy waters let stand will clear.”

And Paul McCartney has a bit to say about it also…….

Flirting With Spring!

All of creation is swooning with spring fever! Twitterpated birds thread fearlessly through budding trees, flirt-wrestling mid-air, and trilling love songs from the highest branches. Flowers boldly push through the stubborn earth, reborn and beautiful; beckoning weary souls to pause and bend their bored noses toward their buttery blossoms.

Sparkling breezes transport sunshine on their wingtips; arousing the senses from their wintry tombs, and resurrecting adolescent passions; the heavy sweetness of love’s breath ….seeking soft lips, and awakening a hunger for… more… more… more!

Windows swung open, like smiling mouths, invite the outside in….and the inside out. Everything seems acutely intense; music, colors, smells, tastes, until you find yourself intoxicated with sensory overload, batting your eyelashes like a shameless flirt, and wantonly kicking off your shoes as you join in the rapturous springtime dance….and fall in love with life all over again!

Spring is the seasonal equivalent of a grand celebration of life where Mother Earth explodes with extravagance, showing off her finest attributes, inspiring us to remember the promises of our youth and our desires for new beginnings…. until everything old seems new again…. and catching falling stars is an attainable goal!

Waiting in Line for Life

I recently went to a nearby fast food joint for a quick lunch of chili and a diet soda, tenaciously avoiding the delectable, but deadly, cheeseburger and fries. While I was in line waiting to order my skinny girl feast I noticed a man in front of me who looked to be about my age but with a little more wear. His hair was salt and sunshine blond, loosely pulled back into a ponytail, allowing a crop of stray hairs to halo his tanned face. His eyes were friendly, and when he smiled the wrinkles around his eyes joined in, giving him a good natured weathered look, like he could have been the wise captain of a great ship.

We chatted as people do when they are stuck in a line together. He spoke about the headaches of cell phones. His had fallen into his swimming pool and he ended up paying a king's ransom to replace it. He showed me his new phone like an adoring father sharing photos of his first born.

Gathering my food, I found an empty booth by the window and settled in. Soon the captain was at my table asking if I minded if he joined me. Not vibing any “stranger danger” I welcomed his offer. We chatted on about a thousand little random things at once. There was anticipation in his voice when he spoke, and I could tell he enjoyed telling his story, and perhaps hadn't had the opportunity to do so in a very long time. We took turns bantering back and forth in a charged ping pongy sort of way.
After nearly an hour of verbal purging a comfortable silence replaced our electrified chatter. We had both vented and now it was time to move on.

It was nice to meet the captain (We never did exchange names) and find out about his world. I knew I would only be with him for this one hour and then he would be gone forever. This created a sense of satisfaction for me. I could enjoy this stranger’s company without any strings attached. I would never have to get to know what his issues were, or give him time to piss me off. I would be oblivious to the date of his birthday or what foods he was allergic too. I was free to explore who he was at that moment and then let him go. However, when I watched him walk away I felt a pinch of sadness too, because in that short hour we had formed a bond. It wasn’t a strong bond, like between best friends, it was more of a common bond between two sojourners on a journey; two souls making there way through a crowded world in search of a listening ear and perhaps a dash of understanding. It was just an ordinary moment that had somehow enriched my life, and I’m so glad that I took the time to enjoy it.

They Can’t Have my Lingerie!!!

It was the morning of April first. I had just returned from a long week at work and was unloading my suitcase, when my cell rang. I was in an upbeat mood, it being Friday and all, and answered with a singsongy “Hello.” It didn’t take long for my tone to change to more of a doomsday march as the voice on the other end informed that my wages were being cut 27%.... affective that day! Initially I thought it was a cruel, but clever, April’s Fool Day joke, but alas the irony of life had once again visited me. It was no joke…and not funny….on any level.

I felt outraged at the cuts and began to froth at the mouth, spit spatting all my favorite curse words, and boiling over like a cauldron on a bonfire. Trying to calm myself, and keep my murderous hands busy, I decided to give my closet a good clean out. Cleaning (with loud music blasting) calms me down. It’s my way of venting and seeking control.

Sitting Indian style on my bedroom floor I sorted through shoes with no mates, jeans that no longer fit, and books I’d already read; creating hills of castoffs until I was finally able to see the stained carpeting of my closet floor….and a little something special. There pushed beneath the shadows of long dresses and winter coats I discovered a shiny pink shopping bag sprouting with tufts of heart kissed tissue paper, and looking elegantly sexy….. and somewhat out of place in my rumpled closet

I pulled the bag to me, shifted the tissue paper aside, and audibly sighed as I lifted a small assortment of delicate lingerie out of the bag. Black and lacey panties… with sequins! Cougar prints, hearts and kisses…yummy yummy lingerie that I had purchased about a month ago and had never removed from the bag! I remember the feeling I had when I first purchased it. I felt glamorous and sexy toting my little pink bag through the mall…… like a cast member of Sex in the City. I was powerful and mysterious; an experienced woman with secrets…okay so they were Victoria’s secrets but who gives a damn. I felt special!

So what happened? There had to be some sort of disconnect that caused me to stash them away without even a try on. I thought about it for a while and realized that I was saving them for a special occasion. My body is used to the utilitarian undies bought eight to a pack in sickening pastel shades, and nondescript bras bought in bulk with sturdiness in mind. These were neither.

What the hell kind of special occasion was I waiting for? It’s not as though there was a National Lingerie Day where I could sport my fancy panties and be the envy of the office. Nobody but my husband and I were ever going to see them; unless of course I got into an accident and a dishy Doctor happened to take a peek…nah, life isn’t like that for me….I’d definitely be wearing my Wally-Mart specials.

My pay cut flashed back through my mind, simultaneously igniting a spark of guilt. “I should return them,” I thought, biting at the side of my cheek and fingering the silky fabric of my new cougar and lace push-up bra, “we need the money.”

Things got a little blurry after that but the next thing I remember was posing in front of my bathroom mirror deliciously adorned in silk and lace and mumbling “They’re mine…I’m keeping them damn it.” I bit the tags off and pulled my faded jeans and T-shirt on over my pretty and provocative new intimates then sashayed back into my bedroom and finished cleaning my closet.

When a woman is down she needs to protect herself and draw the line some where. The way I see it they may be able to cut my wages, repossess my car, and foreclose on my house… but damn it, they can’t have my lingerie!!!









This song is for all the good women out there who keep on fighting no matter what life tosses at them.

I'm Glad You're With Me.

My hearts capacity for love is endless. I have all sorts of people and things stored away in there. I love people differently than I love, say…a hot fudge sundae, but nevertheless I love them both, and my love for each doesn’t diminish my love for either of them.

Sometimes I’m surprised by the things that I love. I was never a lover of Chihuahuas because of a nasty bite I received from one when I was about six. But now I have a Chihuahua that I ferociously love. She proudly rides shotgun in my heart with her doggy ears blowing in the breeze and her eyes squinting with satisfaction.

There are seasons when certain people will have a major role in my world, and then the leaves fall, the seasons change, and those people will have moved on and are no longer players in my life. This doesn’t mean that I no longer love them; it simply means that our paths have called us in different directions.

Sometimes people will return to my life after years of separation, bringing with them the gift of a familiar love and a similar path. Walking side by side with them inspires me as we assist each other in completing our earthly tasks without fully realizing the enormity of the miracle taking place.

It’s wonderful, and necessary, to have good people in my life but there are only two people who will remain constants. One of them is me and the other is God. God’s face changes, as does his hands, voice, and stature. He is my friends and family, the people on my path, helping me to make my journey. I love them all and am extremely grateful that they are here…with me. They have taught me how to love myself.

To love yourself, is to love God, and in loving yourself, as is, and then offering that same magnificent gift to others we become in sync with the heartbeat of our lives and the reasons that we are all here…finally coming to a place where you feel complete when alone… instead of feeling completely alone.

Cut! Take Two!

When I have a daily plan mapped out in my mind I tend to be a bit anal about it. I’ve made my list and I envision myself doing all the things included on my self-imposed itinerary. I hate it when right in the middle of my plan… a disruption occurs; life throws me a matzo ball, and I find myself having to revamp my entire day in order to accommodate life’s whims. Hmpf!!

A part of me wants to rage against the interruption, fist punching the air, while cursing at the imps of darkness for ganging up on me. The other part of me wants to glide through the transition process like Gandhi on a surfboard, riding the waves of change, glowing with serenity, and embracing the moment. Right! The only way that’s going to occur is if I happen to be leaving the Tike Bar… post happy hour…..but then I’ll probably look more like Gandhi ice-skating on a pond of Jell-O.

I don’t like my plans getting messed with, it brings out the angry Queen in me, and I want to shout “Off with their heads!” to anybody who would dare to stand in my way….okay I don’t actually want their heads chopped and tossed, but a good scare would cheer me up.

I know I have to learn to go with the flow better because life is all about surprises and unexpected turns. Just look at the weather. That teaches us, on a daily basis, about the unpredictability of life and how change is simply a part of the rhythm of things.

God’s critters seem to have no problem going with the flow…just look at the birds. Bird’s lives’ aren’t easy. Bird world can be hell sometimes! Their trees get chopped down, their nests get raided by all sorts of birdy pirates, they could get hit by a car… or catch the bird flu. But they do fine. They sing all day long, and hang out on wires, above humanity, laughing as we honk our horns, and scream into the sky because life isn’t flowing at our pace.

Sometimes, when things go really screwy, I’ll wonder if I’m on a hidden camera show, and I’ll behave myself so as to look good to my potential audience. (It’s amazing how well we can behave when we think somebody important is watching.) So maybe we have more control then we think we have….and all this raging is more of an indulgence than a necessity. Maybe I can fake it till I make it, and playacting for the “camera” will work in other areas of my life as well? The possibilities are endless…. “Cut! Take two!”