My senses are on overload!

I wrote the other day about the water and stone. This morning, I woke up at 5 a.m. with my mind filled with thoughts about light.

From what I can remember, I dreamed about light...all kinds of light...and my experiences with light.

I remembered the play of light in the mountains as the sun set, coloring the snow in varying shades of pink, purple and blue. And the mysterious glow that remained on the snow, even after the sun had vanished, as though the light itself had seeped into the earth and was radiating outward in the darkness.

I remembered mornings spent on the beach as the light crept up on the horizon, first with a gentle glance, then in brilliant rays that seemed to reach up from beyond the water and far into the sky.

I remembered the warm glow of lamps and candles on a winter's night in my farmhouse in Pennsylvania.

I awoke feeling as though I had traveled all night through lights and memories of light. I sat in the predawn darkness and meditated on the idea of light...light as energy, light as illumination (physical and spiritual), light as inspiration, light as a beacon or guide in the darkness. I thought about light that fills a space and light that remains in one spot, all the more brilliant for the darkness that surrounds it.

And then on the drive to work, I noticed that in the rear view mirror, over the ocean, there were dark grey clouds, through which a few beams pierced. But in front of me, over the Everglades, there was pale blue sky and bright diffuse light. Two simultaneous views of light from one car.

I am amazed.

Flyaway...

Dreaming of flying away, with my love, with my children. Far away, through the rainy sky and clouds. Landing ever so gently near a Paris sidewalk cafe where we could warm our hands and our stress-tattered hearts with big cups-that-are-really-bowls of steaming hot chocolate and dip flaky butter croissants and not care about the bits that drip on our clothes.

Dreaming of finding a hidden bookstore, carefully crafted to be invisible to those who rush by on their way to meetings and business and busy-ness. Sinking down deep into an armchair, warm lamplight illuminating the faces of those I love, our laps laden with beautiful books and our minds finally free to imagine what we really want to do with the rest of the day and the rest of the week and the rest of our lives, now finally finally finally free from boxes and chores and plans that never worked out no matter how hard we tried or how little rest we allowed our selves.

Dreaming of seeing that the stories in the books we hold aren't the stories from other lives and other pens, but our stories and knowing, at last, that we can write the rest of the pages with our days and fill the empty picture-spaces with the things we see and the people we come to know and the our-selves we finally meet.

Dreaming of standing on a hillside, seeing the landscape spread before us and the endless roads we can wander and knowing that there is now time to walk and time to stand still and time to climb and time to just sit and watch the pictures G-d makes with the clouds and the light.

Dreaming of drifting off to sleep in a featherbed, the lights of Paris below, the days ahead. Somewhere in the distance, a faint whisper of music offers the perfect score for our dreams of this new life. Dreaming. Dreaming. Of Flying Away.

G-d laws, people's laws

The girl's name Tara \t(a)-ra\ is pronounced TAH-rah. It is of Gaelic and Sanskrit origin, and its meaning is "hill; star". Ancient Tara was the site of the "stone of destiny" on which Irish kings resided

Last night, I dreamed that I was in a big building, like an airplane hanger. The doors were open wide, and the room was empty except for a small Lucite cube in the middle of the room. I was there with someone named Tara.

She pointed to the box, a crystal clear square, about 2 feet across (so about 8 cubic feet in volume, so quite small in such a large and essentially open air space) and said "These are man's laws."

Then she gestured around us, and said. "These are G-d's laws."

There was nothing else to the dream that I recall, but the image and the words are fresh in my mind. So what does it mean?

So often, we think of G-d's laws as something we must contain within a box...a structure, a set of walls or a book. And the rules and laws of people surround the true core -- so we strive to protect G-d's laws from human changes. We build up lists of rules and fences and such, in a belief that we as people must DO something.

But this dream was saying quite the opposite. G-d's laws require little structure or containment. Yes, the hanger offered a roof, but it was far, far above. And with the big doors open, there was little enclosure. Almost none, in fact. They simply "are." Everywhere.

And G-d's laws were safe, not because we boxed in G-d, but because G-d's laws surrounded and contained and so completely outdid whatever little man tried to do. All our fuss was little more than a small box in the middle of a vast and open space.

I looked up the meaning of the name Tara...the site of the "stone of destiny." I don't know anyone named Tara...so the meaning intrigues me. My destiny? Or just a coincidence?

Another meaning was also suggested, since I heard rather than saw the name: Terra.

The girl's name Terra \t(er)-ra\ is pronounced TARE-ah. It is of Latin origin, and its meaning is "Earth". Mythology: the Roman earth goddess, equivalent to the Greek Gaia.

My experience of the creator is solidly female. Mother Earth. The Creator as the birth-giver/life-giver. Terra or Tara...I am captured by this dream.

Any thoughts?

Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming!!

Dreaming of traveling with someone special to places familiar and well loved like Key West and California, and places yet uncharted in my life so far (ok, in THIS lifetime) like Russia and Egypt and Samoa.

Dreaming of more days and evenings with friends like last week's trip into the waters off Key Largo, Teresa's birthday party, annual visits to friends in PA. (almost Ren Faire time again!),last night's dinner at Seasons 52, or the upcoming tubing trip in North Florida.

Dreaming of publishing books written and books yet to write.

Dreaming of love and family and holding hands (and hearts) for years and years to come.

Dreaming of sharing my Shabbas table with guests who have shared meals with me before, and those I have yet to meet.

Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming...on a rainy Florida morning.

(rain on grass image from Tingog.com)

The life I never had

I just finished reading a couple of new blogs...one is from a new writer I'm hiring, the other is her sister's blog. And I found the life I never had....

I read about close families and having neighborhood girl friends to share the baby years and toddler years as they raise their families together. About getting together with friends from high school year after year to see familes form and grow. I read about family trips and dads who loved their kids ...

I found the life I always wanted, and never had.

I think one of the reasons I moved to Utah for college was because I knew that I wanted a family and a life like that. I always tell people I moved because as a child of South Florida, I was anxious to experience mountains and snow. And that is partially true. It all looked so dramatic ...towering mountains, fields of pure white snow, spring meadows filled with wildflowers. But what I don't ever tell them is that I moved because I wanted a different kind of family.

Don't get me wrong...I grew up in a very good family. My parents loved us, and we had a good life. Trips, lessons, a nice home, beautiful clothes -- every THING a child could want. But from the beginnning, I was wired differently.

My mom, a brilliant woman who would have made a top notch doctor, became a nurse and then a homemaker, but never really fit into either of theose roles. She did them because when she graduated high school in the late 1950's, she was told that was where a woman belonged. She resented being at home. Hated cooking, would sooner have thrown herself from a tall building than ever sew, scrapbook, knit or do any sort of craft, found women's groups deadly dull, and had no interest in neighborhood get-togethers. We lived in the suburbs -- she was never a suburban wife. She was meant for different stuff -- feretting out tough diagnosis, or performing impossible surgeries. Think of Dr. House from the FOX TV show and you have my mom! I kid you not.

My mom wanted me to be and do all the things she never did. To be successful in a career, to be an achiever at the top of my field, if not in medicine, then in law, engineering or business. A tiger lady. Driven.

Unfortunately, I was not like my mom. I love to cook, to make things. I quilt. I do needlepoint and cross stitch. I scrapbook. And from as early as I could remember, I loved babies. I knew, from an early age, that I wanted a family.

That contrast was never so clear as when my mom "caught" me reading a Bride's Magazine. She snatched it from my hand and threw it into the trash. The next day, there was a copy of Ms. Magazine on my bedside. My mom had spoken.

I moved to Utah because I knew about Mormon families. I had Mormon friends. I loved their families. I saw exactly what I wanted there.

Unfortunately, I never got that dream. I married. I have three amazing children. And I divorced. I never had the suburban house with the friends next door, or the family vacations.

I guess I am mourning that lost dream. I have a career. I do work hard, and I have started to achieve some measure of success. I have, in many ways, all my mom wanted. How ironic. It seems that fate has given us each the lives the other wanted.

My mom now runs charities, sits on the board of directors of a medical facility, is a leader in the community. It took her awhile, but she got to place where she belongs. Finally.

Maybe it's not too late for me...

Getting to know my readers.....

I would like to get to know you, my readers. Here is a little quiz to help me learn more about my friends here online...

1) Where do you blog?


2) What are your favourite blogs?


3) What gives you joy?


4) What is your favourite sound?


5) What is you favourite song?


6) What do you hope to hear once you reach the pearly gates?


7) You have up to 15 words: what would you put on your tombstone?


8) Write the first sentence of your own great American novel.


9) What color ink do you prefer in your pen?


10) If you could have any view you wanted from your window, what would you see?


11) What is the one place you most want to visit but have yet to see?


12) What is the best place you have visited so far?


13) What do you want to be remembered for by those who knew you best?


14) What is something you want to achieve this decade?


15) This lifetime?


(Adapted in part from RevGalsBlog)

My answers, to get this started....

1) Where do you blog?
Here! And at BlogHer, Wetpaint (actually a Wiki), and several other smaller sites

2) What are your favourite blogs?
See my list to the right of this page!

3) What gives you joy?
Smiling at a stranger who looked sad or angry and having them smile back.

4) What is your favourite sound?
Water...it could be rain, a stream, a waterfall or waves as long as it's water

5) What is you favourite song?
The Prayer, as sung by Josh Groben

6) What do you hope to hear once you reach the pearly gates?
Welcome back.

7) You have up to 15 words: what would you put on your tombstone?
She sang, she danced, she cared, she loved.

8) Write the first sentence of your own great American novel.
Elizabeth didn't expect to see a unicorn that morning -- but to be fair, the unicorn did not expect her either.

9) What color ink do you prefer in your pen?
Black

10) If you could have any view you wanted from your window, what would you see?
A beautiful expanse of water, with a slightly foggy sky, a rainbow, and a bit of land off on the distance

11) What is the one place you most want to visit but have yet to see?
England - especially the coastal areas

12) What is the best place you have visited so far?
San Francisco

13) What do you want to be remembered for by those who knew you best?
Really loving them with all my heart

14) What is something you want to achieve this decade?
Financial independence as a freelance writer

15) This lifetime?
Learning as much as possible, understanding as much as possible, loving as much as possible