What Returns

                                   *sea glass from a San Francisco beach

When my brother died, unexpectedly, a little less than a year ago, our family went through a metamorphosis which led us down to the ocean.  No longer could we hold onto our dreams until tomorrow or tomorrow or tomorrow.  We felt the sudden desperate need to focus on the immediacy of today and with that, we decided to do something that experts in grief counseling would advise someone never to do.  We made the huge decision to rush one of our "when the girls leave home" dreams into reality.  We bought our beach home.  It felt like something that we had to do at the time and we are filled with gratitude by the fact that we were able to bring our dream into reality at a time when we desperately needed it.

So much has changed for us over the course of a year.  But with the sad, with the grieving, with the pain, came some very good things, as well.  And as I begin to emerge from the fog that a sudden shock will cover the lens of life with, some of the diversions which helped to bring me to today will remain with me into many tomorrows.  One of those diversions that became a form of meditation for me, is sea glass hunting.  I cannot begin to express the pleasure that I have gained from the hours that I have spent walking the beaches, over the past months, and collecting sea glass.  The tiny shards of colorful glass that the ocean transforms and then returns to the shoreline, allow me to fixate not only on what is lost, but also on what returns to us after the initial adjustment which occurs after a change.
When Mark and I took our four Angels up to San Francisco, last month, we found a beach that was covered in rocks and sea glass.  It was absolutely amazing!  When we treasure hunt down here in Southern California, the beautiful bits of sea glass are becoming more and more rare, but the father up north you travel, the more and more plentiful the remnants become.  The photos above picture some of the sea glass that I collected during our trip to San Francisco.  If you multiply that amount by six, you will get a better idea of how much glorious treasure our family unearthed.  We came home with pounds of this beautiful bounty, along with the special memories that we shared as a family on our treasure hunts.  Those wonderful memories will be something that we will be able to return to, over and over again.
                                   *seagulls in the sun, San Clemente, California

My four Angels have now taken an interest in sea glass hunting along with their dad and I.  I love that this is something that we will be able to share and enjoy together for many years to come.  Mark and I are planning another trip which will also involve scouring the beaches for treasures.  I know that time will bring along with it many, many changes but if we have something to which we can all return, the difficult times will be much more manageable.

As I was sitting here writing this, I could not help but wonder.  What are some of the things that you do in order to weather the changes of life?  What do you find yourself returning to?  I know many people turn to God or spirituality and that is huge and important, but what kinds of things do you do to distract yourself when life becomes too rough?

As the Tides Change and Happy 1st Night of Chanukah

As I sit back to take inventory on the things that I have gleaned during 2008, I must remind myself to reflect more deeply on the good, while still holding on to the lessons that I have received from the unbearable.  Spreading my wings to fly off into the unknown of another year is, at the same time, a huge relief and scary as hell.  The emotions that I am experiencing in leaving this past year behind, remind me that I truly do not know what life will bring from one moment to the next.  That there are no guarantees, no coincidences and truly no absolutes.  And although this past year brought with it only a month and a half before my family experienced the saddest tragedy that we have ever had to face, life continued happening as we celebrated birth(renewal), a graduation(transition), and the flight of two of our Angel Daughters going off to college(one for the first time and one as a senior).  
And while I cannot say that I am at all sorry to get past the psychological boundary of putting 2008 behind me, I can say that it was a year that will stand out forever in my mind.  Heading in to 2009 brings with it a mixed sense of relief, apprehension, and hope.  In some ways, I feel as if I will need a compass in order to navigate the wind currents by which my life will now flow.  In other ways, I feel a bit stronger and better prepared because of the storms that sought to clip my wings.  Life is like that.  We don't realize how incredibly strong we are until the bounds of that strength are tested.  It is only then that we know, really know, how resilient we can be in the face of adversity.

Standing at the edge of a very low tide, last week, I noticed the rippling sands that are usually covered by the sea water.  It made me think about the things that reside just below the surface of who we believe ourselves to be during the times when our lives seem fairly unchallenged.  It is only during the unusual times, the times when things are not as they should be, that we are forced to peer beneath the surface into the face of someone who feels strange and unfamiliar.  Those are the times when we can learn one thousand lessons in what seems to be a few short moments.  The low tides of our lives, when taken seriously and to heart, are the times when we can gain momentous growth.  And whether we are ready or we are not, the wind currents will change, the tides will ebb and flow, and the storms will come.  It is in how we choose to navigate the changes, that will determine whether we will become permanently grounded or if we will be able to soar even higher than we did before.

As you reflect upon this past year, may you treat yourself as you would, a student who is constantly learning new lessons as they go.  Gently, honestly, but with a small bit of slack and a swift kick in the rear, when absolutely necessary.  

Thank you for helping me to find my own wings.

Moonlit Morning or Reflections on Reflecting

Through sleepy, dream-fogged eyelids I felt something beckoning me to rise from my restful slumber as I tried my hardest to resist.  Nestled cozily underneath my covers the last thing I wanted to do was open my eyes.  Lately, sleep is the only respite I receive against the frustrations that sometimes fill my waking hours, and I get a bit grumpy when I am woken up before I am ready to face the day.  But on this particular morning, the brightness which was infiltrating my dreams shone relentlessly and I was forced to squint, little by little, towards the light.  There it was, enticing me out of my darkness, and there I was hopping from my warm bed onto the cold ceramic tile searching for my camera before I even realized what I was doing.  I glanced at the clock.  Six a.m.  Daylight was barely beginning to break, yet there was the persistent full moon holding its position in the sky.  It was almost as if the moon was refusing to relinquish its spot, holding fast to its ownership of the heavens.  I opened the door to our bedroom deck and stepped outside into the cool morning air.  There is something about being part of a day that is just waking up that brings hope to my soul.  Something about knowing that today can be a better day that allows me to wonder about the possibilities.  Maybe this will be the day that certain people in my life will come to their senses.  Maybe this is the day in which all of the planets(however many there are now) will align properly and I will be allowed to see my beloved brothers children again.  Or maybe this will be the day when my restless soul will find some serenity and everything will be as it should be.  On this moon-filled morning, I am in awe of the idea that night can be day and day can be night.  It reminds me that if something isn't right with the story, there is still a way to turn that which feels impossible into possible.  And so, I begin doing my best to preserve this moment in time.  To capture its beauty, to capture its message.
The sky begins to change and swirls of colorful clouds begin to wisp their way across the horizon as the moon politely fades into the background.  The sun takes its rightful position in the sky and day now begins.

Later in the day a lone seagull wades serenely along the shoreline.  The water mirrors its image beneath.  As I observe him, his double-image reminds me that our stories can take different paths depending upon how we choose to act or react.  If we aren't happy with how the story is going, we have the choice to change it.  We have been given the innate power of free-will and in that power, we can decide what we will do in order to change the ending.  Will we peek out at the morning moon and then close our eyes against it, or will we open our soul to the message and then take it into our heart?  Will we ignore our images as they are reflected back to us, or will we observe that image, take it in and use it to learn and grow and change?

May you open your eyes to the possibility of each new day and may you find a way to remind yourself that if you aren't satisfied with how your tale is evolving, you have the power to make changes.  May you trust your own intuition so that you can confidently co-write the story of your life.

Learning to be Open

I must admit that since I have been spending more time at the beach, I have developed a new sense of appreciation and awe for the seagulls.  As the weather grows chillier, most of the beach-goers have packed it in for the winter and I find myself wandering along long stretches of shoreline without another soul in sight.  I look towards the seagulls as companions, as angels who remind me that I am never truly alone on my journey.

Occasionally, a very brazen seagull will follow behind me on foot, using it's voice to remind me that it is hungry and would like me to provide it with food.  I turn around and try to convince the little guy that I do not have anything to share otherwise I surely would, but they never seem to believe me.  So I walk along with my companion in tow, quietly talking to him about my thoughts until he gives up and returns to his flock.  On this particular day, however, I was approached not by ground, but by sky.  At first, it wasn't quite registering that this seagull was trying to get my attention, but then...

He gave me the eye.  I almost turned around and gave him that famous line, "Are you talking to me?", but then I realized that he was probably way too young to get it, so I just laughed out loud instead.  I thought about running away, as his wingspan was a lot more intimidating when he was only several feet away from me, but I was far too amused to give into fear.
He lingered effortlessly in the air for quite some time and I was awestruck by this glorious creature, a creature who was trying to communicate with me as I stood there taking pictures of him.  I think he found the camera to be quite a curious object and so we stared at each other for a few seconds.  He hovered closer and I was amazed by the intelligence that seemed to project through his eyes.  This bird wanted to connect in some way, and whether that was out of his need for food or curiosity,  the intention was very, very clear.  He sought me out, got my attention, and held it until we made a connection of sorts.
As he flew back to be with the rest of his flock, I couldn't shake the feeling that something very spiritual had just occurred.  I could have just brushed the experience off as just a coincidence, but then I know in my soul that there really are no coincidences.  I also know that angels can approach us in so many different forms if we remain open to their appearances.  Lucky me...

If your travels bring you face to face with an angel, I hope that you will keep your spirit open to the possibility.  You are not alone.  You are never alone.

"For most gulls, it is not flying that matters, but eating.

 For this gull, though, it was not eating that mattered,

 but flight."

-From Jonathan Livingston Seagull