We are Love Returned

For the last two weeks, Bogey has found his way front and center to my lap each morning.  I thought this odd until I realized the beauty in his presence. Seven years ago, he avoided my lap.

I had forgotten this until the second day he scrunched his tabby body into a little ball and sat.  Normally I would gently push him aside and tell him I needed to write.  Fortunately this morning, I was listening.  In the quiet, I realized seven years ago, the spirit that is now Bogeysattvah was leaving through her dying process.

Templeton, my cat at the time, and I were parting ways after nearly 17 years. She wanted nothing to do with my lap.  The cat that for years let me cradle her like an infant would sit across the room or in close proximity as I wrote each day but never close enough for me to hold her.

Until the day she died.

(Backstory:  When the tumor was suddenly discovered shortly after Christmas, I made the call to have Templeton euthanized.  A day after scheduling an appointment for her vet to make a home visit, I realized my cat wasn't in pain.  Although she wasn't eating, she continued her rituals with me.

I was the one in pain, emotional pain and I had unconsciously scheduled my cat's death on a Friday so I would have the weekend to grieve.

With this realization, I called the vet to cancel her visit.  She didn't answer the phone but within minutes called me. I assumed she had caller id. She did not.  The vet was calling to tell me she had double booked and needed to reschedule.

I shared my realization and we agreed my calling her and her calling me suggested canceling was  Divine timing.  I decided to let the journey of Templeton's passing unfold and be with
where it was taking me.

During the nearly three weeks that passed I shared every story with Templeton that I recalled around our life together from my getting her as a three-pawed kitten one June weekend in Centennial Park to her being trapped between the floor joists of our second floor overnight during a home renovation.  I spoke of the darkness that would eventually come and the importance of her looking for the Light of her Star Kin as she passed. I knew they would come to guide her home.

I also told her that I knew she was having an equally hard time saying good-bye to me.  When our animals leave, it's a two-way street.  They may have an even harder time leaving because they don't have words with which to share with us what we have meant to them.

I cried more more deeply in these days with Templeton than I've cried over any human. I cried so much that I finally got to a place where I felt great joy and deep honor in being allowed to experience this process with my feline companion.  

Last but not least I asked Templeton to return to me after she had time to recover from the sudden illness that was taking her. I specified the time frame and asked that we would know one another.)

I knew the day Templeton was going to die.  All of my clients cancelled on one particular afternoon and no one of my waiting list could come in during that time. I had an entire day free and knew this was the day.

That morning when I walked down stairs, she meowed and looked at me.  I scooped her up and held her for seven hours except for the thirty minutes I took to drive up the street to the chiropractor.  She died that afternoon cradled in my arms on the futon in my office and we held a ceremony honoring her the next day.

And four months later just as I asked, I knew that Templeton had returned when I saw the little tabby butt at Berry Hill's Cat Shoppe.

In early May, I began to visit cat rescues as I had requested we find one another around my birthday.  I held kittens in shelters and shops, looking them in the eye trying to discern whether our pact was fulfilled.  I had just about given up when one night I, one not prone to panic, was suddenly overcome with panic that came from nowhere.

I was consumed with panic and an accompanying need. I had to find Templeton's kitten photos, something I had not looked at in years.

I found them tucked in a box and realized my cat that grew into a Maine-coon started out looking like a tabby. I had completely forgotten this. The photos oddly eased my anxiety.

The next morning before leaving town to hike for the day,  I knew I had to return to the Cat Shoppe. I had just been there the day prior at closing. Truthfully I had been there just about every day that month yet I felt compelled to go one more time.

I opened the shop door and immediately knew why.  My breath was taken by the first thing I saw when I walked into the store that morning.  The butt of a tiny tabby prompted me to exclaim, "Who's this?"

Chris, the store owner, answered, "Whopper Jr."

Whopper Jr?! This was not fast food I could avoid as I usually do. The scrunched up little ball of fur on the rug at the store's front door took my breath. He had been left outside the shop by a customer who found him the prior night in a Burger King parking lot. (I suspect this was around the time of my anxiety attack.)

I held Whopper Jr. many times over the next month. I visited the Cat Shop just about daily to hold him yet I could not decide if this was really Templeton because he refused to look at me. He refused to give me the sign. How could I bring this kitten home? Then one day, I knew. I was walking through the house and heard, "You had your sign. You felt it. You experienced it inside." Entangled in second-guessing and the many questions inside my head, I had forgotten what I knew within.

After work, I brought Bogeysattvah home. Upon entering the house, he looked at me.

I have known many times since that Bogey carries the spirit of Templeton. He shares many of her mannerisms yet as the years have passed, I have forgotten the beauty of the story that unfolded between us.  In the last couple of years, Doubt crept in causing me to forget what I knew to be true. I wasn't aware doubt occupied space inside me until January 29, 2014, the anniversary of Templeton's death.

That particular morning I awoke to find Bogey who had never been sick extremely so. Vomit and diarrhea were all about the bathroom. Bogey was curled feverish and lifeless on the sofa exactly where I sat with Templeton as she died that day six years prior.

This was no accident, yet fear kept me from being deeply tuned-in. Fear kept me from listening. I was scared, angry and mistrustful.  What was Mystery up to in my journey now? I didn't want to call a vet. I feared bad news. Yet I called one who didn't have an opening until I explained this was the anniversary of my cat's death and that Bogey was that cat. The vet said she needed to call one client then arrived at my home within the hour.

She did bloodwork and gave Bogey fluids. I held him for most of that day.

I now know I was being reminded to never doubt what transpired between us yet in the moment, I was too frightened to fully realize this.  I was too frightened to imagine Bogey was more than likely remembering what it was like six years prior to be leaving Earth and me.

The next morning, I awoke to a bright-eyed Bogey and a call from the vet saying his blood work was perfect. I should have been comforted. I was not.

Templeton had "perfect" blood work only four months prior to the sudden tumor that took over her insides and led to her death. Could I trust Bogey was really okay or was this a cosmic replay?

In my journal from a year ago, I wrote: Is this the beginning of the end, a sudden unanticipated decline? This part of me that is weary of pain thinks, 'Fuck it. I give up.' 

My friend and intuitive Maryann suggested years ago, when I feel stuck to ask myself two questions:  What is this I am knowing and why does this matter?

Immediately I knew I was being shown how our dear world has gotten into this place, how the heart shuts down and walls itself off from potential hurt and pain.  If I someone of huge heart can suddenly find myself thinking 'Fuck it' how much easier is it for someone with deep layers of humiliation, pain and shame to disconnect from their heart. The bridge breaks down within and without when we deny and disconnect from our insides creating a negligence and subtle violence first toward ourselves.

I was being reminded to never doubt what had transpired between Bogey and me.

Never doubt. Never forget. And always Listen but did I?

This year rolled around and what happened? I forgot. 2014 was the year I felt magic slip away in my life and I didn't even know it had vanished until recently.  2014 was hard in quiet, subtle, inside ways. I didn't realize Doubt and Distance had slipped in until these recent mornings as Bogey has perched himself in my lap. I wasn't fully tuned-in and listening until that second morning he curled himself upon me. I viscerally felt his availability and presence.

Then last night Bogey came to bed and stretched out by my side, something he has never done. My heart area became a pillow for his dear head. As he lay there, I clearly knew I've spent the past year quietly afraid of loosing him. I have not trusted 'perfect' bloodwork. I have kept him at a distance that I didn't even realize until that moment.

Life moves forward and yet in these moments like the one with my cat I am reminded of the importance of remembering the backstory, reflecting on the past, listening to the threads and layers of once-upon-a-time in my very real life so that I do not forget.

Magic didn't slip away from me. I slip away from me when I stop listening.  

Bogey didn't die last year. He is here. He is here reminding me every morning and night, every time he looks at me that he is Love Returned.  Bogey did not die and neither did I. He is here reminding me we are Love Returned.

Entangled in all the things we think we have to do and the stuff that fills our minds, it is easy to  neglect what we know in the quiet.  We forget the beauty of the story that we come to Earth to live.

Reminisce, tell stories, to your pets to your family members and friends.  When we stop story telling, we forget.  Our personal stories are the stuff of our lives.  As you story tell, listen for other layers, lessons and meanings in the stuff of your journey.

We are Love Returned. 

For other stories in this "Series" of sorts between Bogey, Mystery, Templeton and Me click here: Missing the Mystery and Spirit Persisting: Divine Staging Every Day,   Dates, Day and Doves: A Story of Waking Up,   Full Circle,    Exercising the Heart,   

-Dawn, The Good News Muse,  28 January 2015 

dawn@imaginetheshift.com

Remember Who You Really Are?

(I wrote this to share at a gathering in 2006 yet each Solstice when I read it I realize I wrote it for me as I remember more and more of who I came here to be.  I don't know about you but I easily and episodically press snooze and fall back to sleep.  Fortunately it is never to late to awaken and remember. I share this again during this Solstice time of 2014 in hopes that if it is suppose to it will speak to You in this the time of the Great Remembering. - Sincerely, Dawn)

Sound Cloud audio link: Remember  

From Nashville's Adventure Science Center -2013

Remember who you really are?
You're a child of the Universe.
You, you're a star.

You are the tree rooted
  yet stretching so tall
You're a divine flower
  opening to all.

Filled with whimsy, play and delight.
We, we are God seeds.
We are the light.

We're here with a purpose, a plan so divine
Small mind cannot hold it.
See with new eyes.

All that has happened
  was meant to be.
All that has happened,
  now sets us free.

The heartache, the lessons
  help us unfold
The greater story we're living.
It's time to be told.

So look over the years
  in the patterns you'll find.
Clues to your being.
Keys to your life.

We are here open hearts
  in this time so ripe.
Filled with potential in this Solstice Time.

-Dawn, The Good News Muse,  17 Decembeer 2014

written 12/2006 

dawn@imaginetheshift.com

To ponder if you're curious: 

Are your heart and mind open to remembering who you really are if you're actually more than who you think you are?  

Do you allow heartache, disappointment or old story lines to define (and limit) who you are and how you think of your life?  

Be curious as to patterns that weave themselves from childhood to your adult life. My favorite place as a child in school was sitting in the floor in one corner of our small library and getting lost in the poetry books with beautiful drawings of flowers and plants.  Then around fifth grade, I was mesmerized with "Creepy Crawlers."  I could make snakes, lizards and bugs all day with the goop and molds in my creepy crawler kit.  It's only been in the last few years that I've realized it makes perfect sense that I would find bugs mesmerizing and beautiful. I can't imagine killing one as to me they're exquisite creatures with as much right to being on earth as I have.  The roots of my being in Love with Nature, writing poetry, and valuing bugs and Natures Beings lies in my childhood

Some Days

Some days I want to lose myself in a bed of brown. 

I want to feel this body and these bones melt into Earth's arms. 

Enveloped like long lost lovers, we breathe as one. 

Our heart beats drum beats bringing rhythmic comfort and calm. 

-Dawn, The Good News Muse 13 Dec. 2014

dawn@imaginetheshift.com

Walking Home -Messages from a Morning Walk

This morning while I walked in Nashville's 19 degree weather, I met Bo and Bella's human, Rachel a new neighbor who was equally bundled and standing with her cell phone in hand as her two dogs sniffed about in the yard.

We two humans met and Rachel asked fairly quickly if I walked every day. Her tone suggested she might think me odd but that was okay.  I heard myself respond with an enthusiastic "Yes" which was followed by "I do this to survive." I shared that I loved walking because I need sunshine and nature and I love being outside.

We parted.  As I walked on I realized my walks are about survival but they're really about much more than survival.  In the recent years walking and being outside even in the cold is how I thrive.

I am fed by Nature's beauty, the blue sky as well as the clouds.  My spirit is fed by patterns above in the barren tree limbs and below in the leaves on the ground.  My heart is fed by the birds singing, by neighbors and strangers I pass and I am drawn to things along my path offering messages when I listen.

For example, today only a few steps past meeting Rachel I found a dried piece of ornamental grass lying in the middle of the sidewalk. It just felt right to pick it up as "Bread of Life" crossed my mind.  A few steps further a dove feather, symbol of great Love and Peace, lay before me.  After picking it up I realized it's structure or patterning was similar to the grass.  A few houses away I came upon a yard filled with these leaves having fallen recently.

I was reminded immediately of the Tree of Life then noticed it too had a pattern similar to the grass and feather, many arms reaching from a body stationed between heaven and earth.


Then I came upon the blue dental flosser.

Near my turn, there it lay.  It had been there yesterday as well.  At first I picked it up because I'm prone to gathering trash on my walks.

This time though I walked with these things and pondered the manmade and Nature-made.

I considered how flossers are used to get at hard-to-reach gunk between one's teeth which are in the mouth, the vehicle of voice.  Maybe we need an instrument for getting to the hard-to-reach "stuff," the fears and issues old and new, the things affecting our voice so when we speak we speak with more love and less judgment, arrogance and hate (that includes more loving self-talk as well).

We come to Earth equipped with the instruments for clearing this stuff. It's found in an open mind. It is found in compassion's vibes radiating from the heart.  It is found in our arms extended from our bodies and wrapped around our fellow man as well as wrapped around ourselves. We come here equipped with all that's needed to clear out the stuff that builds up without and within.

Then as I continued my walk home this prayer came to me.

Bread of Life
Help me/us fly
and take my/our place 
on the Tree of Life.

Bread of Life 
Help me/us sing 
and reveal the Love 
that is in All Things. 

We are each "walking home" in a sense.  I share this prayer with you in hopes that it will make your daily "walk home" a bit lighter.  I share this experience in hopes that you'll be increasingly mindful of how your spirit and soul are fed and the messages surrounding you in the man-made and Nature-made daily.

-Dawn, The Good News Muse 18 November 2014

dawn@imaginetheshift.com

What Shapes Your Beliefs?

How do you come to your beliefs...even regarding the simple things? 

A comment about apple butter started this pondering about belief.  A food blogger in the local paper wrote of making apple butter and stated if canned it shouldn't be left on the shelf longer than six months.  

Yikes, I had apple butter stored since fall of 2012.  I opened a new jar to test mine out and emptied it, not into the trash, but onto toast and oatmeal over a couple of days.  

My two year old apple butter was as good as the day I made it possibly even better.  Eating it took me back to my neighbor's orchard and the load of apples she let me pick as well as the smell that permeated the house as the apples simmered for hours on the stove top.


Realizing the writer was wrong at least about my apple butter  reminded of transplanting lenten roses last winter.  Landscape and garden blogs I perused after transplanting them suggested these January beauties are not transplantable.  

As someone who loves plants, I felt horrible.  Had we just killed the six green clusters, we moved from our country yard to the city? According to these writers, we had given them a death sentence. 

Similarly a landscaper told me recently that redbuds are extremely hard to dig up as their roots run deep. In that moment, I believed this person who was the authority with a successful landscaping business.

That evening as I told Jerry about redbuds he asked, "Did you tell her about the two large ones I dug and transplanted over a year ago?"  

How had I forgotten the two successfully growing redbuds by my driveway?  

In that brief interaction, I granted this knowledgeable, experienced person authority and simultaneously forgot we had two examples that were contrary to her opinion.  

If I had granted authority to the other writers, I would have trashed my jars of apple butter without opening them and I would have never transplanted the lenten roses. 

And I would have missed this....

Yes in less than two months of moving the lenten roses, they honored us with beautiful blossoms.  

How do you come to believe what you believe? 
To whom do you grant authority and power? 

Beliefs contribute to violence that is external and internal.  Beliefs have resulted in unfathomable numbers of deaths over the centuries due to war, conquests, torture, and punishments resulting from people believing in the powers and power structures of the time.

In Time's big picture belief has been handed down through rulers, preachers, politicians, teachers and parents - those in authority.  Now pop culture and media figures increasingly influence belief.

Personally I would be called a "flip flopper" (a term used politically when someone changes their mind) because belief for me is fluid and flexible.  It is derived from my experience, especially listening to my inner experience.  My insides most often are the source of my authority.  Experience informs me as to what I believe which is why for me belief is fluid and flexible.  

And experience is what prompts me to ultimately share this story written in a journal a month ago.  

I had decided not to share it until I had an experience. 

I was cleaning off a bookcase and there on a bottom shelf was the silver vase (or grail cup) a neighbor spontaneously gifted me months ago.  How had I had forgotten it? 

Inside was a cricket, a dead cricket.

I love bugs. They are often messengers to me.  I immediately looked up the meaning symbolically of crickets in "Animal Speaks." 

Cricket represents "belief.  Trust your intuition before believing others." 

I immediately remembered this story and knew I was to share it.

So cricket's appearance prompts me to invite you to consider how it is you've come to believe what you believe? Are you open or closed to the opportunity to reconsider your beliefs and their origins?

Sincerely, Dawn! The Good News Muse, 15 November 2014

dawn@imaginetheshift.com

It's All about Me (and You) - Self-Love Could Usher in Peace

I recently saw three-year-old James. I had not seen him or his mother since they moved from next door months prior.  James came running from his condo and threw himself around my lower half while shouting, "Dawn, Dawn, Dawn."

My experience of James was followed by seeing photos of another young soul who's not even a year old.  His mother shared photos of his discovering his BFF (Best Friend Forever) in the mirror. His expressions in the mirror as he greeted himself were priceless.

The joy, delight and enthusiasm of these two boys have stayed with me for they hold the keys to greater peace, love and understanding.

Think about it.

If we each looked into the mirror and saw our BFF or had the joy of James upon seeing me, the world would not be the same. (It's much harder to condemn and judge another if I'm happy to see them in the world as James was me.)

I cannot authentically and deeply love myself (be my own BFF) and neglect myself.

If I authentically love me, it is harder to harm you because to harm another in thought, word or deed creates discomfort and dissonance not just in you, but within me.

It just doesn't line-up with love.

I viewed the "it's all about me" trend a few years ago as yet another means to sell cheap stuff to narcissists and consumers feeling internally empty. Now I wonder if many of those who bought into it being all about them possibly needed their lives to be all about them for a change.

On a deeper level this holds a beautiful and profound message.  If 'It is all about me" I will genuinely embrace being Me, especially since no one will ever be me!

Think about that for a moment. No one has ever been you or will ever be you.  This is something to celebrate. Imagine someone running up to you, especially if you were in a down space, and exclaiming your name " _____, _____, _____" as James did mine.  Wouldn't that be a beautiful thing? I know, I know you might first have to get over being embarrassed.

The fact that You are You is a beautiful, amazing, once-in-a-lifetime thing!

The fact that We are all here together on this beautiful, amazing planet at this time is a once-in-a-Universe thing.  The expressions of these two boys are key to living within and without in much greater joy and peace.

-Dawn, The Good News Muse  14 November 2014

dawn@imaginetheshift.com 

Spirit Speaks - Self-Loathing and My Cat

Spirit speaks in whispers.  

Seldom is the writing on the wall.  

Though last night, it was in my hall.

11/11 or Veteran's Day saw me enveloped in a bad mood.

I didn't begin my day in this state.  I awakened early to take the keys to the mechanic diagnosing my car.  It had to be towed the prior night.  Before dropping off the keys, I sat outside and listened to the robins sing.  They had not been present like this since Spring.  I felt such joy. Their chorus was the perfect gift on this day I had intentionally set aside to listen.

Sometime around mid-morning though anger wrapped itself around me.

I asked Jerry and the cats to not take it personally. I wanted to scream, vent, and shout and I didn't know why.  I felt possessed by negative energy.

Mid-afternoon, I put Redbud who's just over a year old in his room.  Redbud is rambunctious.  I didn't want him picking up on my anger and acting out.  Animals do this just like kids. They pick up on and react to our vibes.

Entering RB's room is when I noticed the stone.

When Redbud first came to live with us, I asked a friend for suggestions as to stones that might be of benefit to him.  She named three. I researched them and they were spot on.  So I put three stones in his room along the edge of the window where he couldn't get to them but would hopefully benefit energetically from their presence.

I had forgotten about the stones until I saw the smoky quartz in the middle of the bedroom floor.  I smiled and placed it back on the ledge and ensured he was safely in his room.

Then I went to my room where I yelled at God, my guides and angels.  I told them what I thought about them interspersed with four letter words.

This tantrum did not help. I felt consumed. This may sound freaky to you but I felt like black goo was energetically coming out of me.  As someone trained in somatic (body) therapy, I'm comfortable with this.  I just didn't want to be dealing with black goo on 11/11. I wanted to be listening, listening to peace-filled, personal messages coming to me not angry ones.

11/11 could not end soon enough. I was disappointed and upset with myself.

I tried to write or actually re-write a Veteran's Day story I wrote years ago.  I got lost in my head rewording sentences I had not planned.  I freed Redbud and fed the cats, watched the news (something I never do and may never do again), and suffered through dinner then went to bed.


That's when I saw the stone again.  

Redbud had been freed from his room but the door was closed.

Lying in the hallway was the smoky quartz just outside the door to what we call RB's room.

Spirit speaks in whispers. Seldom is the writing on the wall.  In that moment, the 'writing' was in my hall.

I knew the stone was for me.

(Redbud is my messenger cat. He is the reason I didn't back out of hiking into the Grand Canyon a year ago. Within two weeks of his being in our home, he found a file I had forgotten. One morning I opened the door to 'his' room to find a newspaper about the Grand Canyon lying in the middle of the floor. I had been debating whether I had the stamina to backpack over twenty miles in the canyon although I intuitively knew I was suppose to. Redbud's message settled that question.)

I picked up the smoky quartz and went to bed with "Love is in the Earth," my crystal go-to book in hand.

Redbud's message through smoky quartz was more perfect than I could have imagined.  Smoky quartz helps with negative states as well as protection from negativity and issues related to the hands. (My hands had been feeling carpal tunnel-ish lately and I was quietly concerned.)

I fell asleep knowing my angels were at my side, the feline and the winged kind.

First thing this morning, I sat outside with smoky quartz between my palms in prayer. I asked that Mother Earth, Father Sky, the Divine and all my angels take the dark energy from me and turn it into love so no one else would receive or absorb it.

And I heard myself say a word, I don't think I've ever said.  I actually asked that my self-loathing and hate be taken.

Self-loathing and hate?

Yes, those words came to me as naturally as breathing.  Intuitively I suddenly knew this is what the energy in me felt like and I don't consciously think of myself in these ways.

I felt the mood depart and got why I had felt this way.

After hearing the robins sing, I posted a song to Facebook.  I actually posted me singing a song that came to me honoring Veteran's Day five years ago. Afterwards the mood arrived because I was unconsciously feeling vulnerable. I sing in the shower, the car and over the phone for occasional birthdays. I do not sing publicly.  I was afraid, afraid people would judge and laugh at me.

Yet self-loathing?

I was angry at myself for giving anyone else power over me.  I was furious that I was concerned with what anyone thought of my singing and judged myself right and left for 'wasting' my day. This snowballed into an internal tirade about my lifetime of "wasted" days.

This was even more perfect when I reread the Celestial Timing for November 11.  (I read it that morning and forgot!)  The Moon entered Leo Tuesday morning. This is connected to healthy self-love including the ability to greet the dark parts of myself with the same gracious embrace as I greet the light. 

Rather than resist and struggle with my darkness, I was being asked to embrace my mood and listen. 

As I sat with the smokey quartz, I can honestly say peace and joy replaced the mood.  Peace and joy have continued to be my partners and I am grateful for the anger that was trying to get my attention.  It just wanted me to realize that I am here to be me regardless of what others think.  I am here to repeatedly put myself "out there" and be with what that stirs "in here." Living from this space every day is exactly how it's meant to be.

********

How do you experience Spirit, God, Life's Mystery speaking to you? 

Do you listen?  

Are you curious about the whispers that come your way through intuitive clues as to your path? 

Do you greet and embrace your dark side? 

Are you really YOU regardless of what others think? 

Imagine that Shift.                                                              -Dawn, the Good News Muse 12 Nov. 2014 

dawn@imaginetheshift.com