The Blue Door

 The other day, I opened my phone, went to Facebook, and sunlight from "The Blue Door" greeted me.

I have loved that painting for so long.  I felt the universe was opening the door for me.

"The Blue Door", by R. Wintz was willed to me by my great aunt, Lillian Anderson, of Chippewa Falls,

Wisconsin.  It was from the New York Graphic Society, print number 520.  

Once when we were visiting, I got to sleep in Lillian's bed, tucked into a little alcove under the slanted

roof of the house.  Directly across from the pillow,  on the opposite wall, hung The Blue Door.

Lillian came to say goodnight and asked me if I liked the painting.  I said yes.  No one had ever asked 

what I thought about art before.  

Well, what do you like about it? And she named some parts of the picture. She said, the blue door?

And I said yes, the blue door.

The last time I saw Lillian, she was ensconced in a large bed in the dining room. I sat with her

sometimes and she told me stories. One day one of her stories scared me and I screamed.

She became iriitated and firmly told me to open the door under  the stairs, which was right

there. My heart was pounding, for it was dark in the whole room but darkest in the closet.

I reached for the knob, turned it and looked inside. There were coats, hats and galoshes.  Oh.

What did you learn from this? Well, just because it is dark and you don't know what's there

even if you someone told you there was a monster, Open The Door! and look

You will find the truth and will not be scared anymore. 

When we came to the house the next time, when I was about five years old, I ran into the

dining room, looking for Lillian. But there was no Lillian, no bed, just their beautiful dining

room table, where grace was said in a lilting Norwegian before we dined.

The adults watched me and said, "Lillian's gone."  "Where?" And they just sort of repeated

She is just gone.

Later in life I had alot of dreams about quilts, like mandalas, only square. And dining rooms where

the patterns were on a table or a bed.  Finally I remembered Lillian in the dining room in

Chippewa Falls.

And now  I have her picture, the one she looked  at before she closed her eyes every night.

Today, I could tell her I love the writing desk, the chair, the inkwell, the open door to the

sea, and of course, the blue door.

All reminding me that I can write, i can be brave in the face of the unknown, and that I can

love.

Sweet dreams to you , Lillian, and thank you for your gift- so deep and sweet it has been to me-

Lockdown Making You Crazy?

Hello! I wonder if some of you have started to notice what I have during this stay-at-home/lockdown of many parts of our society. Memories, regrets, ocurrences you forgot are all sort of rising to the surface of your consciousness. This can be at any time of the day or night. Sometimes they just pop up. Other times there is a slow kind of sneaking up on you. It is kind of uncomfortable. Not like , "Oh, good, here I am in therapy and I get to do a rousing life review and really clean out my energy centers." No, this is like part of your past looking in your window and knocking on the not- too- clean glass and saying, "Hey, remember me?" So, in trying to acknowlege this phenomenon, I came up with a meditation to help. It would be great to just shove that stuff back down and forget about it, but it seems with too much time on our hands, these things creep back. I know, sounds like a horror movie! I am not saying there are not good thoughts and experiences too, but all this is a little overwhelming at times, and I would like to process and move on! So, to begin, breathe. Breathe deeply, drinking in the air, holding it a few seconds, then releasing, whoosh! on the outflow You can even do this standing up if you wish, moving in whatever way feels good to you, as a kind of warm up and relaxing exercise. When you feel ready, sit or lie down in a place you feel very comfortable. Close your eyes and begin to slow your breathing. Slower now, becoming calm, and calmer still. Now go to the inner layer of your aura and breathe, letting whatever needs to come up from your early childhood. You probably will remember many things-take your time-interactions with siblings, feelings about your parents, the environment of your home. Let it come up through the template of your body, rising up out of you. Take a look at it, with no effort, and then release.Give these memories the freedom to go on their way, like a cloud that came from inside, hovering above you for a few minutes and then floating away on the wind. Breathe. Deep breath. Breathe again and let another layer become activated,say,the teenage years. Let the memories, the atmosphere come.Allow yourself to say things to people in those times if you need to.Then watch the cloud gather above you, floating higher and release. Breathe. Settling down again, let early adulthood come up. Lots of material here. Participate as if you are standing outside the situation.They can't see you but can hear you. Say what you want to, good or bad. See the cloud and let it go... As you lie there, keep releasing. You don't have to know what time period, could be yesterday!, what a relief! See your body and your mind becoming lighter, freer and more open Imagine the sun's warmth beaming over your body, healing all of your cells. Bring in a cool breeze to enliven your energy centers and give you a boost. Relax and picture yourself feeling good, having a wonderful day .I hope you can now move forward with your life with more energy and creativity. Namaste, Lia

I'd love to change the world

I'd love to change the world,
But I don't know what to do,
So I leave it up to you-    Ten Years After (rock group)

A friend of mine asked me to write a meditation for this time. I'm sure a lot of people are doing the same, thank goodness.  This is my version.

Find a place where you won't be disturbed.  Ground and begin to breathe.  Deep breaths at first, then slowing to a more natural pace.

Bring earth energy into your feet and legs, then all the way up your spine to the top of your head.   Let it flow back down the front of your body and into the earth.

Use your breath as a pump, releasing on the outbreath.

Begin to release fear from your body. 

Release fear from your first chakra at the base of your spine,  release fear from your belly,  from your solar plexus.  Release fear from your heart ( big breath here).

Release from your throat, relaxing your jaw.  Relax the area around your eyes.  And finally release from your forehead area and your brain. Breathe.

You feel lighter, having released so much that you don't need.

Now, open your seventh chakra at the top of your head and let Light from above pour into your body, rushing in like a river of light, healing the sore, beat up places, healing the uncertainty and doubt.  No effort here, just let the Light flow in.

Let  it enter your bloodstream, healing your cells and strengthening their functions.

When you are filled from the bottom of your feet to the top of your head, let the llight spill over into your aura, repairing any rips or tears, forming a protective shield around your body.

Sit for awhile, more calm, more relaxed than you have been . Breathe.

Begin to visualize a huge cup or chalice in front of you. Let light into your crown chakra and   let it flow out your heart chakra, filling the cup. Light from above also flows into the chalice, until it spills over, covering the whole earth and her people, acting as a balm, soothing the fear.

Now,visualize the image you have of this virus ( they show it enough on the news programs, jeez).  See it dissolving, coming apart, dissolving, dissolving, until there is no image left, any residual falling like dust into the earth to be completely neutralized.

Begin to see the earth without this pandemic. People gathering once again, going to their jobs, participating in society, mindful of the lessons we may have learned from this crisis.

Open your  heart to gratitude. Let in a little joy again.

Still running Light through your heart, send  healing and protection to your immeditate family, and to the larger family of humanity, and to the Earth Herself.

Thank you for participating.  I  hope this helps with your personal health and the health of the planet.

Namaste,   Lia

Prayer

"I hate you," I screamed.

As soon as I said it, I knew it was wrong.

The nurse said, "Your mother will have to leave if you can't settle down."

Oh, no! That's the last thing I wanted.  I was pounding my legs with my fists because they hurt so much.  At age five, I didn't know what was going on.

One day a man in a white hospital mask came in.

"Don't be afraid, I am Reverend Crozier from your church.  You know me, don't you ?"

Yes, I nodded.

" I have come to pray with you and ask the Lord to help you get better."

He put his hand upon my head and said some words in his beautiful deep  voice.

" Do you know  how to pray?"

Yes. We said The Lord's Prayer together.

He looked just like Michael Rennie.  I knew this because I watched countless old movies on the TV on Saturdays.

The thought crossed my mind, "Does this mean I am going to die? Is it just like the people in the movies receiving last rites from the priest?"

But no, I survived.  What I mostly remember about Reverend Byron Crozier is the depth of his faith and his belief in his prayer for me- so sweet and profound-Thank you.

I still pray, too.  Meditation is prayer of a sort.  I slow down my breathing, and open to any messages about my life or how to be a better person.  I ask for healing for those I know who are ill.  I give thanks for the life and relationships I have.

I wonder if people who have never had any religious instruction pray.  I think they do.

Prayer opens us up to the sacredness of life and helps us think of the other person.  We are reminded how lucky we are, and how beautiful the world can be.

Many things conspire to make us who we are.  If we bring a little consciousness to the process so much the better, whatever religion we follow or don't follow.

And someday I will die, the energy scattering across the universe, becoming a dazzle of light on the water, the wind that hurries the clouds across the sky, and hopefully, part of the sweetness that will live on in my children and grandchildren.

Namaste, Lia

Writer's Block

Recently, my writing took a turn.  All of a sudden, short stories were arriving.  It was interesting and they need a fair amount of revision.  Then I thought, where am I going to put these?  Too long for a blog, do I actually have to send them out?

So I just put the first one, a memoir, on the blog.  Thank you for seeing the love and pain in that one, those of you who responded.

I looked around at all the notebooks I have filled during my life. Thirty-five or so.  I thought, " You have to get rid of these so no one else has to deal with them when you die."  ( Good headspace, huh)

Then I stopped writing.

I knew something was wrong in my life.  I felt weird. What was it?

No notebook writing!

I have journaled for years to keep my sanity, to coach myself, to find out what I really think and feel, to let my creativity flow.

All of the meditations, poetry and stories were first in the journaling. Now, my listening to my guides, the universe and myself was cut off.  I had stopped the flow.

Big Mistake!!!!  This realization cured my writer's block.

My advice is don't stop yourself, don't censor  yourself, don't correct yourself.  And don' t define yourself.

I am choosing to realize I have a body of work, as writers have through the ages.

I have meditations, blogs, poetry, essays, memoirs, recordings for children, teens and adults, and now pieces of writing that may be called short stories.

But mostly I am a messy journal writer.  And yes, I am keeping those journals.  I look closer and find a treasure trove of important dreams, story ideas, reflections, and memories to rework or just remember what my life was like at certain times.

I write the blog because I think someone else must be going through the same thing and needs to  hear that.

So, writer, painter,yoga practitioner, musician, or artist of  your own life, keep the flow, keep the faith and love to you.   Namaste.

A Message I frequently receive

" What is the purpose of life?"

"To create Beauty."

This is the answer I always receive when I ask my guides this question. 

To Create Beauty  -  in life
                              -   in our art
                              -   in our relationships
                              -   with our children
                              -    in our work
What is Beauty?
                              -    Love. Love for life
                                              Love for others
                                               Love for nature
Creating Joy and understanding every day, with gratitude for this job we have been given.

Lucky us. If we can have the grace to open to this work.  Namaste.

For my mother, Memoir from a Daughter

The storm was present in my consciousness all night.  Ebbing and flowing, the wind blowing throughout my sleep.

I was dreaming of snow- a snowstorm to be exact.  The wind whistling through the cracks in the window, the sound of the snow drifting up against the house, and the knowledge that the world would look different when we woke up.

I was cozy in my bed, warm and snug, knowing my parents would keep me that way- safe and comfortable while they slept across the hallway.

I woke up- not in the snow, but to the rain.  And I achingly missed my parents as I  hadn't in years.

To explain, I have always felt pulled in two directions - between the life I have here in California and the one I could have lead in Wisconsin, with my parents and siblings.

We were in our twenties and blithley got in our little car and drove to California, breaking my parents' hearts.

We saw them once or twice a year, but it wasn't the same as living in the same town or even the same state.

I remember once I called my mom. She said, " It's snowing. The first snowfall of the year."

"Is it sticking? " I asked.

"Oh yes.  It's so pretty."

"Oh," I said.  She knew by the tone in my voice how I missed seeing that layer of soft white muffling the sound and turning everything into beauty.

The last time I talked to her, there was no snow.  I said, " You have to eat."  She said, " I ate a strawberry.  When are you coming?"

"July fifteenth."

" That's not soon enough."

"Well, that's when we have our reservations."

And she was right, as she was so many times when I only half listened.

Upon landing, the pilot said, " It is four o'clock in Wisconsin."
When we got to the house, my Dad said, "She died at four o'clock.
Indeed, it wasn't soon enough.

In a dream quite a few years ago, my grandmother and I were standing in the back garden, the one my mother had created, with lilac bushes, snapdragons, phlox and lilies of the valley.  We were looking at the full moon.

My grandmother said, "Look at the moons."

And then there were many moons, one above the other in its own strip of sky, each a different shade of color. Silver, pink, orange, blue and more.

I looked and thought, " Parallel moons, parallel lives, each one a possible life, a constellation of a turning point, I could have   chosen."

And now I am about the age my mother was when I last spoke to her.  And I look at the "Grandmother Moon" dream a little differently.  The moons seem to me to be the stages in a woman's life.  Infant, child, maiden, mother, and grandmother.

And so, I say to my mother," Thank you for bearing me, even though I caused you pain. Thank you for giving me this remembrance full of joy and pain."

I know you experienced happiness, for I have a memory and a picture of you as a young mother, doing a cartwheel on our grass, laughing and full of joy.

I know you showed me the for-get-me-nots that were your mother's favorite flower, so I would remember her and you. 

And I do remember.

I was looking for you after dinner.  You were lying on your bed, tired after feeding and looking after a family of five.  You moved over to let me lie next to you. And we listened to the crickets through the screen in the summer night. 

Namaste,  Lia