Simple serendipity...a short post about a little book

"I don't remember where I got this little book, or why I bought it. No, let me correct that. The lure of all those lovely pages with just the right kind of spacing...all encased in a pretty pink cover was probably all the 'why' I needed...." 

Have you ever come across something you bought or were given years ago, but never used, only to find that it's exactly what you need right now? 

I love this kind of serendipity. It's such a simple delight....an unexpected gift from my past that shows up right there at home. 

Hamsa - Five - Celebrating 5 months of marriage and my husband's birthday

Our hats on the hotel windowsill the morning after the wedding

 Today we are celebrating five months of marriage.  And at the same time, we are celebrating my husband's birthday -- there is also a 5 in his age.  And the date: 8/21/2010, if you add it up, 8+2+1+2+1=14, and 1+ 4 = 5 .

The coincidence occurred to me as I was thinking about the five months since our wedding day. And buying his birthday present. (It's amazing what runs through my mind when I'm standing in line! Sometimes I do calculus equations -- this time it was numerology. Oh well!)

Now, I am not a big fan of numerology, but that synchronicity caught my attention. Could it be just an accident?  It seems, even to the number skeptic (me!) that that is even more unlikely.

So I started thinking about the number five.  I wear a piece of Judaic/Islamic jewelry called a Hamsah.  It is a common religious symbol in the Middle East and North Africa, but in all of them, it represents protection and good fortune.  Some call it the Hand of Miriam, some call it the Hand of Fatima.  I've even heard it called the Hand of G-d.  But whatever the name, the symmetrical five finger-arrangement makes it distinctive.  In fact, the word "Hamsah" means five in Arabic.  So why is this symbol of five considered so powerful?

The Zohar, the classic work of Jewish mysticism and esoteric knowledge, has numerous mentions of powerful fives, including the five gates of salvation.  Kabbalist Rabbi Issac Luria wrote about the "... five souls, Nefesh ("Spirit"), Ru'ach ("Wind"), Neshamah ("Soul"), 
Chayah ("Life"), and Yechidah ("Singular"); the first of these being the lowest, and the last the highest. (Source: Etz Chayim)" .The Torah itself consists of Five Books of Moses. 

And Islamic practice is based upon Five Pillars.  Shahadah, a statement professing monotheism and accepting Muhammad as one of G-d's messengers. Salah, the daily prayer  which is made five times each day (another five.) Zakat, or charitable giving.  Sawm, or fasting, especially during the approximately 30 day period known as Ramadan.  And Hajj, which is a pilgrimage to Mecca.

There are also Five Precepts of the Buddha Gautama in the Theravada (mainly southeast and south Asia) and Mahayana (in China, Korea, and Japan) traditions. The Five Precepts are promises to abstain from killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, lying and intoxication.

I'm sure there are more, in other religions and cultures.  But the powerful presence of these major five, along with the fives in our life today feel like a great opportunity. I'm not sure how or what form it might take, but the message is too clear to ignore. 

For my husband on his birthday, and for the two of us on this five month anniversary, it's going to be a very special day. 

Happy Pink Saturday, everyone! 

Instant recognition

There are moments in life when we recognize something immediately....

An opportunity
A danger sign
A new idea that will solve an old problem
A person we just met but already know
Home, in a place where we may have only just arrived

Where do they come from?

Some people call them insights...seeing inside, literally. It's as though we somehow pierce the outer shell and for an instant, see the essence.

Some call it inspiration...a word which means "breathed upon,", as in breathed upon by G-d. For that moment, we are graced with the divine gift of G-d's life-giving breath.

Sometimes our recognition gets buried under a mountain of expectations and old habits. The new and wonderful doesn't look like we expected, so we discard it and go on looking for what we thought truth (or beauty or love or home) SHOULD look like.

Sometimes we are so afraid of the intensity of this sudden breath or vision that we intellectualize it, analyze it. Kill it with living too much in our heads and not enough in our hearts.

And sometimes we just wait too long, thinking that such moments of grace can be put on hold until a more convenient time. Unattended, they vanish, so we convince ourselves that they were never really there in the first place.

Instead of all that, how wonderful it would be to live ALWAYS open to those moments. Always ready to receive that breath of the divine, that glimpse into the inner truth.

(Image from Soulbreath Pictures)

The road I never saw coming

Scott Peck wrote about the road less traveled.

But what about the road that just popped up out of the blue, no signs, no so many miles ahead, no welcome to.....just one minute I am one place, traveling along, and then WHAM, my life is headed down a whole different road. New scenery. New views. A new take on the whole journey.

I can't give details now. Suffice it to say, that a light went on, and when I looked around, I was not where I expected to be (all metaphorical, mind you. I am not lost!)

And what's weirder is that the place I soooooo wanted to be just a split second ago (okay, maybe a week or so ago), I now know I cannot be, do not want to be, and have no desire to go back. Lessons learned, moved on.

And now, excuse me while I am a virtual four year old and go off to play with the colorful and exciting possibilities that have just fallen into my life.

Falling in love with Key West all over again

I've always loved Key West.

From visits as a child growing up here in Florida, to sunrises on the beach after late night drives down during college, it's always been a place apart from the rest of Florida. Margaritaville.

But recently, I had heard from friends that the place was no longer worth a visit. Run down, no fun, not worth the long drive.

I am happy to report they were wrong. I just got back from my first visit to Key West in years. And although the approach to island was far more cluttered with fast food restaurants and seedy looking auto repair shops (are there really THAT many broken cars in the Keys?), once we got to Duval Street and the Old Town, the magic was still alive and well.

We stayed in a beuatiful bed and breakfast right on Duval. For two and half days, we walked everywhere...to shops, to restaurants, to the pier for the nightly sunset celebration, complete with music, performance art and craftspeople of all types. We swam in the pool and waded in the Gulf. And for nearly three days, did not have to drive.

Yes, Key West was more crowded than before. And chain stores like Bath and Body Works had popped up along Duval. But there were still far more wonderful places to explore like a gallery named "A Boy and his Dog", or a restaurant that listed the latitude and longitude and declared it to be the location of Paradise. As I sat there on that warm tropical night, enjoying a great dinner with someone special, I could not disagree.




It truly was paradise.

Next year, my older daughter will graduate from high school and head off to college, leaving my little one and I free to go wherever we wish. I spent an hour of my visit to Key West checking out the local job market (not bad) and the local real estate (very high.) And I contemplated the possibility of completing my return to Florida of a year and half ago by moving as far south as one could go.

I already live in Florida, surrounded by beaches and palm trees and music and art. But there is something about the concentration of all that creativity into such a small space that made all the difference. I imagined life without a daily commute, and the wonder of raising my daughter on a island filled with art and music. And I found that I really liked the idea.

Watch this space as the year goes by...by this time next year, maybe I'll have my own bit of Paradise too.

I am such a bad mommy, but the music was so good!

I was going to be good the rest of this week. Honestly I was. I was going to come home after work and make the girls a lovely dinner and do laundry and read and work. I was going to get the girls into bed early.

Honestly!

I was going to!!!

But I didn't.

Last night I worked late, raced home, grabbed the girls and went to hear music with T, and her friends from the senior living community and my friend G who has been so busy I haven't seen her in almost two weeks even though we live on the same street!

The band was excellent, the evening weather was even better. We listened and talked and sipped tea(me), soda (my girls) or coffee (everyone else.) We laughed at stories. My little one and I played a game of chess. My older daughter chatted with far away friends on my laptop. We ate Taco Bell for dinner.

I meant to be good. But the music and the evening were too tempting. The time grew late and the music went on, and the stories flowed.

I am such a bad mommy, I thought as I tucked my daughter in at 10:30pm instead of the 9 pm I'd planned. But then I thought of the years ahead when a night spent doing chores will be long forgotten, but a night spent listening to music and talking and dancing around a fountain on a warm Florida evening just might be a treasured memory.

Maybe I'm not such a bad mommy after all...

Free music, poetry and comedy with a cup of tea

Last night, I did not work.

I did not write.

I did not do laundry.

I did not do research.

I did not apply for jobs or brainstorm articles.

I did not even cook.

Last night, I sat curled up in a chair at a local coffee house, a cup of hot Chai on the table in front of me, my little daughter curled up in the arm chair across from me, a new friend next to me, my older daughter a few feet away busy on my laptop, and I enjoyed local musicians, stand up comics, poets and actors. We sat there from about 8 pm until closing at 11. Drank tea or hot chocolate. And listened.

The performances were amazing. Such incredible talent. And they were performing for us, the audience, sitting in a small coffee house. I was overcome with the sheer joy of it.

For more years than I care to recall, I lived in rural Pennsylvania, where events such as this never happened. Where coffee houses served coffee, and closed before 9 pm. Without music (except the canned variety), comedy or poetry. And I missed it. But until last night, I didn't realize how much.

Since returning home to Florida, I have enjoyed weekly free outdoor concerts only a few blocks from my house. Jazz, country, rock, blues. Sidewalk concerts on weekends. Wednesday night bands. Belly-dancers by the fountain in front of the Taverna. Concerts on the beach, in the parks, and now in the coffee house. I have rediscovered the joy I feel when I listen to live music.

Yes, last night was a school night. And as a good mommy, I probably should have had my girls home and tucked into bed by 9 pm. But how can an evening of tv and early sleep compare to a night spent listening to music and poetry? They experienced slam and traditional poetry. Rap without music. Poetry recited with music. Original dramatic pieces. One very brave man's very first stab at stand up. Wonderful guitar and vocals, including a 14 year old who did a Greenday song with incredible skill. These are experiences I hope they will always remember. A start on their own lifetime of magical moments when they sit in front of a stage and take in the words or the music.

Tonight I will work. I will cook a nice dinner, and do laundry. Homework will be done right away. And after the girls go to sleep, I'll pull out my laptop and work. I may even watch a little tv. But in among my nights at home, our nights at home, I want to make sure there are enough nights like last night, where the only work we do is to listen. And make memories.

Had the quote, found the man behind it

Listen. Do not have an opinion while you listen because frankly, your opinion doesn't hold much water outside of Your Universe. Just listen. Listen until their brain has been twisted like a dripping towel and what they have to say is all over the floor.

-- Hugh Elliott, Standing Room Only weblog, 02-14-2003

A few months ago, I found this quote while I was looking for something else entirely. It stopped me cold. It said in a very few words, all I wanted to be able to do when someone I care about (or maybe even someone I just met) needs to talk.

I made the quote part of my signature, replacing a rather sarcastic Douglas Adams quote, I think. Or maybe it was Terry Prachett. In any case, I removed the witty barb, and added something that became a goal. A standard. But I had no idea who the author of this quote was.

As I was driving to work this morning, the quote popped into my head. Along with:

"Look up the author."

It was as clear a message as if someone had said it. No, I am not hearing voices...it was a direction in my mind. A strong one.

So I came into work and looked it up. And I found the quote and the Standing Room Only weblog. But no entries more recent than 2006. So I searched again. I found a website that did not seem to be related and started reading that -- RealLivePreacher.com. Very cool site. So I added it to my blog list and went back to reading. And then I found it...information about who Hugh Elliot is. Where he is. And best of all, where I could find him online!!

Hugh Elliott, besides being a talented writer with a knack for saying exactly what needs to be said in an amazingly clear and unique way, is a man living with AIDS. A man who has, by his own report, lost his family because of his disease. A gay man who, in his new blog, is reading the Christian Bible -- not as a Christian, but as a person who is curious and wants to understand what it says. No agenda to prove it right (or wrong, for that matter.) Just a reader.

Check out his observations and thoughts as he reads. And don't miss his conversation with G-d. We could all learn something from that one.

When the pieces finally fit

Is there a plan for all of this?

There are no accidents.

I've said that over and over throughout my life, when seemingly random events have come together in a way that I could never have foreseen. The idea of a grand master plan for our lives is at times very comforting, offering us a reason, albeit so far unknown, for the trials we encounter as we move around on this planet. The concept of life as a vast, complex test with G-d as the proctor is an idea as old as organized religion.

But the pieces I'm wondering about are people. Sometimes people come into our lives and in a very short period of time, it feels as though they have always been a part of our experience. It's as though they were missing pieces of the the puzzle, finally located and added onto the growing picture in front of us.

Sometimes, like real puzzle pieces, they have been right in front of us all along but we couldn't see them at first because they were facing away, or another piece hid them from sight. Other times, they are far from the puzzle itself, somehow hidden on the other side of the room (or the other side of the world.) Just like in a 1000 piece puzzle, we may have all the parts but we can't see how the pieces fit until we have added others to our picture, creating a space for them, matching lines and images and shapes at last.

And once in awhile, we add a piece to our puzzle, believing that it fits because we so desperately want it to. But as the picture grows, we see that the piece doesn't belong and as much as don't want to, we have to remove it to add the correct one instead.

The metaphor of the puzzle seems so apt, not because life is so confusing or mysterious (although at times it is both) but because all the little pieces come together to create a beautiful image we could not see when the bits were separate and jumbled in the box.

Lately, I've been adding some new pieces to my own life's puzzle. And while some have come from far away, the way they fit into the whole, and the beauty they've added to the image takes my breath away. It's too perfect to be random. The image I see forming is far too intricate and subtly hued to be an act of chance.


And so I go back to the beginning.

There are no accidents.