Outside With My Snow Angels

We built a snow fort today. Brick by brick. The whole time, my little ones were humming under their breath a song from church this morning.

“I am one with the heart of the mother, I am one with the heart of Love.

I am one with the heart of the father, I am one with God.”

Jingle believes in her “Oneness,” 100%. Her basic attitude is, “Look at me! What’s not to love?”

I feel like a good mother if I get my kids outside. Too often in the cold weather, I don’t.

These two faces take my breath away. 

This one too. In a different, furry sort of way.

There is another furry face I love, but alas, he is at work. With the amount of time he’s spent shoveling lately, he’s probably glad to have missed out on the fort building.

Hot Toddy

I love the salt & pep.

Beautiful day here, and I’ve only given you a smidge of it.

One love. Peace out.

Amen.

My Abraham-Hicks Hot Seat Experience, Part Two

For Part I, click here.

Confusion came over me as I made my way in slow motion to the steps. Walking across the stage toward the chair, I looked back at Todd in the audience and raised my eyebrows as if to say, Can you believe this? He sat relaxed, leaning back, arms folded.  He raised his brows and smiled a calm, centered, loving smile. Yes, he could believe it. I felt buoyed. Took a breath. 

Sitting down in the chair, I looked up at Esther, Abraham coming through her, and I noticed the eyes. I’d seen eyes like that before. On a retreat in the Colorado mountains, I attended a sacred Buddhist ceremony and the spiritual leader had eyes like that. Not in the day to day, but during the ritual. Glassy. Trance-like. Sparkly. Is this what enlightenment looks like?

When Esther/Abraham looked at me and nodded, I immediately wanted to cower. I felt like she/they (from here on out in referring to Abraham I will use the plural “they” since Abraham is said to be a conglomerate, not a single entity), could read my mind, and as soon as I wondered that, every inappropriate thing I could possibly think of flooded through me. A feeling of self-repulsion coursed through my body, rendering me unable to formulate what I wanted to say. 

I blurted out something about having a vague sense of Riley’s soul wanting to be here, and of her having a part in choosing to be “how she is.” 

Abraham asked, almost sarcastically,

“And how is that?”     

I gulped. Felt like I might be in trouble.

The eyes now reminded me of the swirly spirals cartoon characters always get when they’re “hypnotized,” then I wondered if Abraham knew I was thinking that, and if they thought I was disrespectful. The random thoughts never stopped the whole time I was in the seat(about twenty minutes). Some of my thoughts were even sexual in nature which freaked me out. It was crazy. But at some point I “got it” that even if they could read my mind(which I’m still unclear about), they weren’t going to embarrass me. They weren’t going to punish me. At some point I concluded I was safe, and felt absolutely accepted, despite the thoughts zipping through my head. Back to Riley.    

“She’s so sensitive,” I said. “She can barely tolerate being here.”     

Abraham told me Riley made a deliberate decision to be here, and her sensitivity is her gift. They said, she is feeling the out of control overwhelmment with being compared with a lot of other people who she didn’t come forth to run a race with. They said there are souls coming forth in great numbers right now who are choosing to be “un-conformable,” because joy isn’t the norm in those types of experiences. (Side note, I heard a statistic the other day stating 80% of  U.S. workers are unhappy in their jobs). Societies are trying to force “sameness” and these energies coming forth are determined not to be the same.   

They said Riley is operating at a very high vibration. She feels things profoundly. I think about how when she’s stoked, her body shakes and her joy expresses itself in an arm tic. She experiences joy so acutely her physical body can’t contain it. They also said, she is intolerant of contradicted energy. She knows when she’s off kilter better than almost anyone. The contrast between Who She Really Is and what she is feeling in the moment is what makes her scream.

“Think about an all day every day sort of comparative experience where I don’t feel that I’m measuring up, that I’m not doing enough, I’m not good enough or I should be doing something differently. None of it is true, and the Source within her knows none of that is true, but when she lets those outside of her convince her that it is true, the resulting feeling is that knot in her stomach that is described as fear, but all it is, is discordant vibration, because she is not allowing herself to be Who She Really Is. She went to a lot of trouble to be born with a different intention. It is not that she can’t have a lovely life experience. It’s not that she’ll be the odd one out. It’s that she didn’t come to jump through the hoops in the way everybody else is jumping through the hoops. She came to let her life cause her to ask for things that she certainly has the ability to achieve and when she does she’ll be joyful. We would do everything in our power to take the comparison between what everyone else is doing out of the equation for her, and for you, and for everyone else. We would not be constantly comparing ourself against the results anyone else is getting because their results have nothing to do with you.

If she were left to her own devices she would find her way to joy, but most parents would then ask, Yes, but will she be normal? And we have to say, Who gets to decide what normal is?

The normalcy you are seeking is alignment with Source and we want to tell you some things that are normal, confidence is normal. Clarity is normal. Joy is normal.”

 So how do we help her when she’s in those moments of fear? I asked.

Abraham said talking to her about fear while she’s in the thick of the fear isn’t helpful because she can’t hear you then. And if you try, you’ll most likely end up sinking right down with her.

They said to watch for moments of clarity. When she is feeling triumphant, point it out. When she is joyful point it out. This is who you are Riley. This is you.

The next thing they said made me weep. Some of the following is directly quoted, some is paraphrased for brevity.

Imagine being her, and you are afraid, and you look over and see parents looking at you and KNOWING your well-being, because they’ve practiced knowing Who You Really Are. They have worked at it (sometimes moment by fearful moment), but they have visualized it, they see it. What would it feel like, in a moment of fear to look in a loving parent’s eyes and see their absolute certainty about your well-being?  

Compare that to being in a state of fear, and looking into your loving parent’s eyes, and seeing your own fear reflected back to you? 

Now add to that all the people clamoring around trying to help her be a whole person when she already is one.

She’s come with a big message, and that message is I’M NOT BROKEN, LET ME BE!

Someone who knows they are not broken expands into more and more and more! Someone who is convinced they are broken because of the comparitive world they live in gets more afraid as they are trained into thoughts that defy Who They Really Are.

Stand in a place of security about your daughter. You cannot teach security from a place of insecurity. You cannot teach well-being from a place of fear.

She’s come forth to teach you the power of sensitivity, and when you sat down here, you spoke of sensitivity as if it were a deficit. As if it was something that is wrong with someone, and yet here you are, having the same fearful emotions.

You have to clean up your own vibration. Not for your daughter, but for you, and when you do, you will help your daughter.

That’s what she is here to teach you. 

 To be continued:

Cooking in the Kitchen With Mommy and Riley

So far this week, Riley and I have made a yummy carrot ginger soup which both kids devoured, and a cauliflower cheesy onion bake. Dee-lish! Who knows what we’ll come up with next?

“Mommy, I think we should have a TV show called Cooking in the Kitchen with Mommy and Riley,” said the adorable girl who was stirring the egg and sour cream mixture, and sneaking pinches of cheddar cheese when she thought I wasn’t looking.  

I laughed. Our kitchen is the size of a matchbox, I’m really not much of a cook, and neither of us does particularly well under pressure, but we’re learning.

Together.

Anyone want an orange slice? They’re organic.

My Journey to the Abraham-Hicks Hot Seat

When Seth was just a few months old, an acquaintance asked me if he was named after “Seth,” of the Seth books. I had no idea what she was talking about, but I looked into it, and the first Seth book I read was Seth Speaks. A woman named Jane Roberts, from Elmira NY, very near my hometown, had an ability to “channel” a being named Seth, and her husband wrote down every word of those sessions. At first, the material scared me.  I’d read a little. Feel a tad freaked out, and put it down. Channeled stuff? Come on. Give me a break. Then again, I had read A Course in Miracles. That was otherworldly too, and it was so beautiful.
 
I kept going back to the Seth books, and every time I did, I felt such peace. Such oneness. The message in those books is one of deep love, and soon I didn’t care who wrote it. You see. I’ve had so many questions my entire life. The Seth books had so many answers! 
 
To me, the Abraham-Hicks material is very much the next progression of the Seth stuff. A woman named Esther Hicks makes contact with a group which calls itself Abraham. Abraham is neither male nor female. It is pure positive energy. It is a teacher. It never asks for money. It never requires you to sign up for anything. No tithing. There are books and CD’s to buy if you wish, workshops to attend, but the info is available for free on line to anyone who wants it.  It isn’t a religion. It isn’t a cult. They don’t advertise. They rely on Law of Attraction to distribute the information to those who are seeking it. They never prosthelytize. Their last several books have become best sellers in the self-help genre. Greedy producers skimmed the top off of Abraham’s teachings to make the hit film The Secret. They also left out the deep spiritual elements Abraham speaks of. But whatever. Those who are wanting it will find it.
 
So, the Alaskan cruise we went on in July of 2008? It was an Abraham-Hicks cruise. You’ve got a few days to do all your sightseeing while at port, and on the sailing days there are Abraham workshops. A couple of hours in the morning, and again in the afternoon. Abraham is called in and the audience is allowed to ask questions. They say no question is off limits. I was thrilled to be there, and I had a million questions(mostly about Riley and autism and why!), but having endured the disappointment of raising my hand to no avail at a previous day-long seminar I’d attended, I had made up my mind I wasn’t going to try. I admit I had a teensy bit of doubt. Just a teensy one. What if all these people with their questions are planted in the audience? I pushed that fear aside and decided to just enjoy the day and learn from whatever I heard. Afterall, the message is the same no matter the situation. I was there with my sweet husband. We were on our first real vacation as a family. All was well.
 
During the first break in between sessions, Todd went to check in on the kids in the childcare, and I went back to our cabin. I think I was going to grab a sweater or something. It was the first day of the cruise. I had just ten minutes. For some reason, I sat down and turned off the light. I found myself in the pitch black, going back to a meditation I used to do when Riley was three and tantruming, where you rise above the battlefield. I floated through space and time with her, looking in her eyes, holding her hands, pure love back and forth between us. In the past, I’d used this meditation as a tool. A way to not throttle her, but this time it just came to me and I stayed with it and enjoyed it. I wasn’t there out of escaping a crises. At the very last moment before I opened my eyes, I heard myself say, “Riley, if there is something you need Mommy to know, I’ll raise my hand.” 
 
I walked back into the auditorium, and found my seat. Todd came gliding in, sat down next to me. He smiled, the kids were fine. Esther Hicks came out, got into Abraham mode, walked right to the edge of the stage and as my hand went up, along with hundreds of others, she pointed at me and said, “You’re the one.”
 
To be continued:  
Click here for part II

Author/Poet Appearance

Due to the impending snow storm this event has been postponed until April.

Any readers from our hometown? Endicott? Binghamton?

Anyone? Anyone?

AUTHOR/POET APPEARANCE
With
ANGELO ZUCCOLO
 
Friday, February 26th, 7 PM
 

Angelo will be reading from his books The Ocean Rose and Forty-Four Poems in Search of A Long Black Dress
 
Angelo was born into a family of actors, poets, sculptors, painters and singers. Within this context, the enchantment and romance of a world filled with sensory, sensuous and sensual poetry were present from sunrise to sunset.  His insights into the flavor and spice of the human heart simmer with the delicate aroma of love both found and often lost. Join him for this very special and romantic event.

 5 Court Street   Binghamton, NY  13901
 607.217.7292
    www.riverreadbooks.com    

Go! Be entertained! Enjoy!

It’s free!

I Love

You may talk about me behind my back. 

I love.

You may judge me harshly having never walked in my shoes.

I love.

You may erroneously think you know me.

I love.

You may feel I’m a poor excuse for a mother.

I love.

You may feel I’m a dreadful wife.

I love.  

You may fear my expansion.

I love.

You may not like who I am.

I love.  

You may call me a complainer.

I love.

You may find me distasteful.

I love.

You may mock me.

I love.

You may not understand me.

I love.

You may question my character.

I love.

It’s the only thing  

to do. 

I

love.

You.

Mister O.

IMG_1843

Seth just loves cartoon books. Lately, he’s been really into the one pictured above, by Lewis Trondheim.

Mister O.

He loves it, but he hit a snag.

IMG_1826

The page below, and a few others like it, have blood. See how the little round guy explodes and blood is spurting out? Well, that turned Riley off to the book completely. She wants no part of it.

IMG_1840

He’s taken it upon himself to rewrite the whole page for her, minus the blood, so she might enjoy it too.

IMG_1834

He really doesn’t mind.

IMG_1835

Our own sweet little Mister O.

Perhaps when he’s done, she’ll take back the derogatory comment she wrote about him on Jingle’s award.

Kitty Cats and Dragons

Riley has been busy at clay class. What this girl does with big old hunks of clay, given a two hour time block to create! She explores textures, and shapes and comes up with things uniquely her own. Yesterday, she brought home two new pieces. The first, predictably, a cat. But not just any cat. This gentle sweet cat, is concerned with cleanliness, and she’s thus licking her paw. Look at the movement in the piece!

The second piece is a dragon. A fierce, fanged, fearless dragon.

We think the two could learn a lot from each other.

So we made room for both, on the mantle,

where they will remind us of the value of both kinds of energy.

Gentleness and fearlessness.

Amen.

Thich Naht Hahn on Death

I heard the most beautiful interview yesterday on Oprah’s channel 156, XM radio. She does a soul series and covers spiritual matters way more in depth than she can on her television show. Anyway…she asked Buddhist Monk Thich Naht Hahn (author of many books, btw) about death and the following is what he replied.

I’m paraphrasing, but he said,

Look at the sky and pick out a favorite cloud. When we watch it and when that cloud changes form, we don’t get sad. We know the cloud isn’t gone, it has just changed forms. We know it is rain, and ocean, and stream and river and mist. When a loved one makes their physical transition, if we focus on the form, and on missing the form, we might not notice our darling one raining down on us, whispering, “I’m here. I’m here.”  

The Stamp

The young cashier guy with the reddish hair at Whole Foods was bored. It was around 9PM. One hour ’til he would get to go home or wherever he was headed on Saturday night.

I breezed through his line,with last minute Valentine’s for the kids.

“What’s that on your hand?” he asked.

I looked down, having forgotten about the stamp. It was a treble clef, with a musical note or two. Dark blue ink on the back of my hand.

“It’s a stamp,” I said.

“What for?” he asked, all friendly.

“I just came from a concert, I was singing in a variety show. You needed to be stamped to get in.” 

“A variety show? I didn’t even know they still had variety shows! What kind of a variety show was it? Who was performing?”

And since he asked, I rocked his world.

“It was a lesbian variety show. Raising money for women’s concerns, I guess.”

His eyes got large.

“I was singing in a feminist chorus, and before I left I saw three different acts, each one was a single woman singing and playing acoustic guitar.”

His eyes got bigger.

I leaned in,

“A whole auditorium of gay women were in attendance. Not a man in the joint.”

He gulped.

“Where was this?” he asked.

“At a synagogue on Mayfield Road,” I shrugged.  

His neck jerked back in shock, “A synagogue? That makes it even better!”

He grinned, “You just made my whole night telling me all this.”

I took my bag and went home to relieve the baby-sitter. 

Today, the faintest bluish spot remains on my hand where my stamp was.

I’m just glad to have had the opportunity to help.

Our Funny Valentine

Today at church it was Todd, Riley, me and Seth in a row, in that order. Early in the service Riley asked to change seats with me.

“Why? Can’t you see?” I asked her.

“It’s Valentine’s day, and you should be sitting next to Dad,” she grinned. She’s really curious about “romantic love” and even wrote herself a Valentine from an imagined secret admirer today. She didn’t think I’d notice it was in her own hand writing. We made a big deal about who it could possibly be from? This is kind of a big deal. Trying to pull a fast one. Not typical for literal Riley. Very cool.

In the back of the church during the service there are Reiki practitioners who are ready to send good juju to anyone who takes a seat in one of their chairs.

I leaned over to Riley, and said, “Do you want some Reiki today?” 

I was making conversation, and never thought she would. Our usually fearful little girl, nodded, hopped up and walked all by herself to the back of the church, and sat down, with the attitude of, “Bring it on. Reiki me!” 

The Reiki practitioner smiled and appeared touched by having such a little person in her chair.  When Riley came back to us, she clapped and sang along with the music, no self-consciousness.

Fun with the baby-sitter when I went to chorus today. Chutes & Ladders.  

This afternoon she went (without me) to an all girl Valentine party down the street. She hit a blip when she couldn’t quite do the craft they were doing, but refused help from the other girls. She didn’t want to be treated like a baby. Some tears were shed, and she hid. The girls handled it well, but Riley left feeling like she’d “ruined the party.”

It was a rough walk home for her. She cried, and raged, and growled all her feelings out. Mostly just the frustration of being her. She wasn’t mad at anyone else. When we got home, we laid on the bed with Jingle and talked it though. She told me all about the party, and there were a lot of really fun moments. She agreed it was mostly a great time.

When her feelings are allowed, they blow right through her.

When I make the mistake of trying to stop them, well…you know the deal. What you resist persists.  

She’s happy again, running around the house giggling with Seth.

She doesn’t think I know, but she’s left Valentine’s on mine and Todd’s pillows for tonight.

Just now she fessed up, “I’m really the one who wrote my secret admirer card.”

So many layers to this girl.

Our funny and complex Valentine.

Riley and Mommy’s Excellent Freaky Cat Adventure

It started out so well…

 

Then it got a little out of hand.

Riley expressed being overwhelmed. It was overwhelming even for me.

And it didn’t help that these guys weren’t de-clawed.

This the look of a cat, that’s fixin’ to hook it’s nails into me and climb up my skirt. Ouch!

I offered to leave but Riley decided to stay. I was glad because we’d risked life and limb in a snow storm to drive an hour to get there. Seriously, I saw a salt truck jack-knifed on the highway, and a couple of other cars off the road, and a blue car spun around in a circle and almost smacked into our side at one point. Riley sat all Mr. Magoo in the backseat, completely oblivious to the danger all around. Thank God.

Anyway…we stayed and saw so many cute cats!

Some were very friendly.

 Some, were totally unimpressed by us.

Some didn’t even bother to wake up.

Hello? You have company! Whatever.

A lot of the cats just hung around on the rafters. Like this these.

When we first came in, I noticed a grey cat up in the rafters with a funky looking eye. He was minding his own business, not bothering anyone. Riley has a thing against funky eyes, so I dodged a bullet and drew her attention elsewhere. She didn’t see it.

Until the shelter worker lady came in. She went right for the funky eyed cat, with some drops to put in his eye. But the funky eyed cat did not mean to be caught. He’s sick of people messing with his eye, and he’s scrappy too. In all the commotion, the jig was up. Riley knew a funky eye was in the room. Then, when the lady tried to pull the funky eyed cat off its perch, it sunk it’s claws into her arm deep, gashing her good, drawing big dark red splatting drops of blood the size of nickels, which dropped on the tile floor as she went out the door. No matter that they cleaned it up within seconds.   

We were done.

Funky eye, blood, and Riley. A recipe for disaster.

The good news is, she lowered her head, and went for the door but did not scream. We just did what we needed to do and left, and by the time she got to the van she was okay.

In the van she expressed concern about possibly hurting the lady’s feelings for leaving so quickly. We were only there about 1/2 hour. I told her I’d already talked to the lady (which I had) and she was fine with us leaving. I emphasized taking care of herself was the priority, and applauded her for doing an excellent job.

On the way home in an attempt to lighten it up a bit, I dubbed the day, Riley and Mommy’s Excellent Freaky Cat Adventure. Riley beamed. 

We didn’t get to learn much about how the cat sanctuary works. All I can say is the people were very nice and the cats well taken care of. If you live in NE Ohio and you want a cat, you should adopt from them.

Here are some more furry faces.

Meow!

  

Caroline’s Kids Cat Sanctuary.

Go With Their Interests

This week’s educational field trip(weather permitting) will be to the shelter depicted above. Riley is over the moon with excitement. Her passion for cats is intense, and we will learn all about how this no-kill shelter operates.   

I’ve promised not to return with another cat. My marriage depends upon it. Send us strength.

Lovingly yours,

MO’N & Riley

P.S. Lydia…I dedicate this post to you.