Grow Not In Each Other's Shadow

Shadow of sculpture titled "Grow" by Tim Adams that is featured in downtown Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

On March 21st I went downtown to meet my good friend and fellow Active Dreamer, Patty, at Josiah's Cafe to chat about dreams, synchronicity, and whatever else our hearts desired. I had never been to this cafe before so I was very excited to check it out. As I was walking to the cafe a beautiful sculpture on the corner of the street caught my attention so I walked over to gaze at it. The Sculpturewalk located in downtown Sioux Falls is one of my favorite attractions and it does to me just what it is supposed to do---attracts me to the sculptures. I first gazed at the sculpture and remarked to myself how beautiful even the shadow is that it casts on the ground. Then I looked at the title and name of the artist which both struck my heart deeply as they mirrored someone back to me whom I carry in the memories I keep in my heart----my first love. The title of the sculpture is "Grow" and the artist's name is the same first and last name of the guy who was my first love and whom synchronicity led me to--- Tim Adams. 

The title the artist gave his work of art is perfect as it reflects back to me a powerful verse in the poem "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran that I actually tried to live and embody in my relationship with Tim, though I feel I may have failed miserably at doing, which is---

I feel the message inherent in this synchronicity is all about learning and growing from my experience of loving Tim and the deep pain I still feel from breaking up and having to say goodbye as he embarked on the voyage of a new relationship with the woman I watched him begin to fall in love with on the Alaskan cruise we were all three on in the summer of 2016. Life really knows how to deal the hard blow of a wrecking ball to your dreams and shatter them, along with your heart and spirit, like no other. But Life also being the great Teacher that it is has taught me so well by now that there is way more to the story below the surface of appearances that reveals, in time, a bigger story which helps to explain why certain painful experiences are necessary for one's growth and learning. Part of me feels wise enough to know that my painful experiences all hold within them the treasure that I am seeking if only I would use my courage to go into the dark places within myself in search of it but then there's another part of me that feels so paralyzed and wounded by the pain and wishes none of it were true or had ever happened. I fluctuate between these two parts of myself and I feel that part of my growth has to do with learning to embody more and more of the wisdom I know to be true and quit giving into the stories I tell myself that are filled with lies, like that I am not good enough, beautiful enough, fun enough, that I don't make enough money, and the lies go on and on...

I wonder if all of the tears I continually shed help me to grow? I sure hope so. Before I stumbled across this sculpture, many times I had scolded and told myself that I should not have taken the risk to be in a relationship with Tim and that I had made a huge mistake by doing so, obviously because of all of the pain I experience as a result. I have realized though that the huge mistake is for me to believe that. It was my dream to meet someone I would fall in love with and it happened in the most beautiful way. I could never have written the story of how I met Tim and got to know him more beautifully than the way my life wrote the story. Life knew just what I didn't know I wanted and I am so grateful for the adventure it offered up to me. It's like my life knew when I was ready for love and then there was Tim. He had already been in my life for a couple years but I was not fully aware of him. And then we bumped into each other at a concert outside of the work place where we had initially crossed paths with each other and that experience held within it the spark of romance. Synchronicity led me that concert that night and bumping into Tim there felt truly magical. I can't deny what I felt. There was way more than just music rippling through the ether at that concert, I know that to be true.

"Some say love, it is a river, that drowns the tender reed.
Some say love, it is a razor, that leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love, it is a hunger, an endless aching need.
I say love, it is a flower, and you its only seed."         
                                                  Lyrics from "The Rose" by Bette Midler

It Took My Breath Away

Some people who know me may assume that I have always been a very creative person when it comes to writing and that my brain can effortlessly make up stories to write but this is very far from the truth. In college, I remember sitting in creative writing class one day struggling deeply with the worst bout of writing block I have ever experienced in my entire life. This simple yet profound memory has been burned into my brain because the pain I felt from not coming up with anything remotely interesting to write about that day was so excruciating for me sit with and accept. On that day, I felt like a total stranger to myself and my inner critic was scowling at me for being so lackluster with ideas. Since then, thankfully, my creative juices have been flowing like a raging waterfall all thanks to my experiences with synchronicity and dreams. These experiences have given me such richly creative stories to write that I could NEVER come up with on my own. The stories I receive from synchronicity and dreams have been created and gifted to me by life and all I have to do is paint the picture of what I have experienced with words. Though this is hardly easy to do, I enjoy the challenge. 

One such story that was gifted to me came in the disguise of a powerful nightmare that I had in 2012. The timing of this nightmare was uncanny in that I had it just days before the deadline to join an online paranormal creative writing class that I was dying to experience. But I was so hesitant and intimidated to join because I felt as though I didn't have a good story in me to write. That is, until I had an awesome nightmare which propelled me to sign up for the class being offered by someone who has inspired me a lot with his own writing---Ryan Buell, a writer and journalist who also happens to be a paranormal investigator that was on my former favorite A&E show, "Paranormal State." As synchronicity would have it, I actually had the opportunity to meet Ryan recently at Haunticon 2019 in Omaha, NE which was like a dream come true because I was so grateful to be able to tell him how much him, his show, and creative writing class had impacted my life. I told him that he has had a meteoric impact in my life. I had been carrying around gratitude in my heart for many years so it felt amazing to be able to share it in person.

Me and Professor Ryan Buell at Haunticon 2019

I remember Ryan sharing with the class to "write what you know." I was having many nightmares around this time so this was something I knew that I could write. Ryan's class offered me an avenue for working, though it turned into something more like "playing," with some nightmares I had had in order to gain better understanding and insight into what they may mean. I didn't want to run away from these nightmares any longer. Like I told Ryan when I met him, his creative writing class helped me to sit in the fire and find courage to enter into the cave I feared most which held the beautiful treasure I was seeking. 

Image from the "Nightmare" board game I used to play as a child.

The particular nightmare that inspired me to join Ryan Buell's writing class was an especially ominous dark cave for me to enter because I had felt so alive and present in it which made it seem that much more real. I was not simply a spectator in this nightmare which is a common thing for me to be in dreams. No, I was the star actress though I did not have a script to follow and had no clue what was going on or what the next scene would be. The joke was on me in this nightmare and I felt a sense of laughter like never before as it took my breath away...

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CLICK HERE if you would like to hear an audio version of my nightmare story.

It Took My Breath Away

Sometimes you don’t have a nightmare. Sometimes a nightmare has you. Meaning, you find yourself trapped as an actor in a story that has seemingly been crafted just for you and written before you fell asleep. It is as if the whole thing had been staged and the joke was on you. Upon awakening, you can’t help but ponder that perhaps some sort of intelligent force had been paying attention to your thoughts throughout the day, looking for inspiration to tailor a nightmare specifically for you. I think that this may have been the case for me. This is the story of a nightmare that had me…in its grip.

Not long before I had drifted off into dream space, I had been pondering what is called the “Ha” or the “divine breath of life” in Hawaiian spirituality.  It is said that we each receive the “Ha” at birth, when we take in our first breath, and that it is released upon the death of our physical body. As I thought about this I was also inspired to think about the spiritual aspects of humor and laughing; however, I didn’t come up with much because I was exhausted. It was at this point that I decided to take a break from wracking my brain for answers to some of life’s bigger questions and went to bed.

I soon found myself to be babysitting two children, a boy and a girl, I had never met before, or so I thought. I realized that they were fighting over a toy and this instantly annoyed me. I marched right over, snatched the toy out of the little girl’s hands and told them both that if they were going to fight over it then neither of them was going to play with it. This really upset the girl and she began expressing to me why I had made her angry. As she did so, I felt a connection to her and then instantly, she appeared older to me. It was as though she had transformed from a toddler into a teenager right before my eyes. And she seemed very wise for her age. I never caught her name, but she told me that we had met before and then, a memory flashed into my mind of the two of us riding in a car together. I was in the front seat having a conversation with her as she sat in the back. I never saw who was driving the car though. After the flash of this memory, I found myself in her bedroom, sitting in a chair next to her bed which she was sitting on. It was hard to see in her bedroom because it was dimly lit in there and the feel of her room made me uncomfortable. The girl asked me if I was interested in studying anything within the realm of the dark side of the paranormal. This question gave me chills. I told her that I am prone to experiencing a lot of fear and that I was very hesitant about diving into that abyss. Her face then lit up and she became very animated as she expressed to me how much she loves all sorts of scary stuff. She then asked me if I believe in ghosts. I told her, “Yes, I do.” to which she replied, “I definitely believe in ghosts! And you wanna know why?” I replied, “Um, okay…” Though I wasn’t really sure I wanted to hear her reason why, but then she said, “I have this friend. His name is Augustus.” Then she exclaimed, “Watch this!“ The girl grabbed a flashlight and aimed the light beam onto the hallway wall outside of her door. She used it to transmit some sort of coded signal by flashing the beam on the wall. I assumed it was a way to communicate with her ghost friend and that she had just summoned it to come into her room. I became paranoid and frantically wondered what the hell was going to happen. Just then I sensed that there was a presence in the room. Before I knew it, there was an invisible force swooping up over my body, starting at my feet, like a powerful gust of energy. I tried to figure out where it went and could sense it was still present with me but I did not know what it was doing. I tried to talk but I could not make out a sound. Then I tried to scream because I had become so frightened. Nothing. I became even more frantic and began squirming and furiously kicking my legs as I screamed inside of myself, “I can’t talk! I can’t scream! I CAN’T BREATHE!!!” Then, it felt like part of the force moved up into my head and I got the strong sense that it was trying to communicate with me, but I couldn’t make out what it was saying. That is, until I felt the force travel into my left ear. Then, I both felt and heard the vibrations of a deep, raspy voice say, “Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.” My eyes snapped open as I jolted awake like never before. I realized I was no longer in the nightmare but lying in my own bed in ordinary reality. When my whole body had jolted awake I instantly inhaled a deep breath of air. I could feel my heart racing and pounding. Interestingly, I could also feel a sensation in my left ear that had come from the deep, raspy voice that I had heard laughing. I could feel the sensation slowly fading away from inside my ear, yet the whole experience had been forever burned into my memory. Feeling the sensation from the voice in my ear after no longer being in the grip of the nightmare gave me even bigger chills as it blurred the lines for me between the waking and the dream state. It made the nightmare appear more real. In my eyes, what I had experienced was no laughing matter, for this was a nightmare that totally had me and it took my breath away.    

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Now that a few years have passed since I had that nightmare, about 7 years, I can now say that this is one of the best dreams I have ever had and it actually makes me laugh when I remember it. One thing that dawned on me as I worked with this dream in Ryan's class is that I think the part that included a flashlight was partially inspired by a photo I had sent in to Ryan a couple years prior to his class that was for a paranormal photo contest he held. The novice photo I created by hand looks laughable since I did not know how to create it using technology at that time. The photo features me walking up steps outside in the dark in search of the "truth" while Mothman hangs out in the shadows and a UFO flies above. There is a thought bubble with the "All-Seeing Eye" which I feel symbolizes a mysterious way in which we are all connected through the mystery of consciousness. I titled it, "One Step Closer." Unfortunately, I did not win the photo contest. However, it was all worth it for me to at least try. I smile when I look at the photo and enjoy thinking about how far I have come in my inner journey since I created it. Life has blown me away repeatedly since then and has given me TONS of new stories to write. And all the while I feel that I continue to be "one step closer" to my inner truth by paying attention to the dreams and synchronicities I experience.

I am "One Step Closer" to finding the truth.

Having New Eyes

While I was at work the other day I went into the main office to fill out a sheet for overtime hours I had worked and the calendar on the wall caught my eye because it has a quote for the month of March that holds very deep meaning for me. I have now seen this quote appear in my life a total of three times and I'm going to view this third time as a charm since it has appeared in the month of March. In some ways, I do view this quote as a lucky charm for how it has positively affected my perspective as I look over the landscape of the life I have lived thus far. 

Calendar in the office at work

The quote is by Marcel Proust who was a French writer in the early 1900s. The first time his quote appeared in my life was when I was a kid. It appeared on the memory book my Grandma Dorie had given me. As a child, though, I don't think I really soaked in the wisdom of this quote because in 2011, when I rediscoverd this memory book, it felt as though I was reading it for the first time. I didn't remember this quote being on the cover at all, but I did remember the image. It really wasn't until 2011 that its wisdom really struck a chord in me and I fully understood its meaning. 

The second time this quote appeared in my life was during a time when I was truly feeling as though I was seeing my life through "new eyes." When I saw this quote appear in my life again it was like I felt it had come alive and was speaking directly to me. It was truly quite profound. I had experienced a very powerful awakening on multiple levels in my life. My body, mind, and spirit had seemed to finally be beginning to heal after many years of suffering from health issues, chronic negative thought patterns, and having an overall negative perspective about life which stemmed from not feeling well most days. The second time the quote arose in my life was also at work, but a different cleaning job I had at the time. It appeared in a company-made calendar for a business that I used to clean and each month featured a picture one of the employees had taken.The photo that was paired with Marcel Proust's wisdom is of cottonwood tree roots. I have posted it below. The employee who had taken this photo had explained that with "new eyes" one would be able to see the beauty of the roots. I think that is wonderful. It really paints a picture of perspective. 

I deeply pondered how I felt seeing the quote recently for the third time and it felt like I had climbed many mountains, barely surviving some of them, which means I have changed and grown quite a bit since seeing it last. For one thing, when I had discovered the quote for the second time I had just met the guy who became my first true love. I saw so much beauty in the way we met which was at work where this calendar in the above picture came from. But where we really connected in a powerful way was at a concert. He was there for the opening band and I was there to listen to the headliner. As I look back I still smile about how so many things felt like a dream come true in our relationship and yet I also feel a lot of pain thinking about how our relationship quickly turned into a nightmare. Before I knew it, about 2 years into our relationship, we broke up, on an ocean voyage to Alaska. I still loved him but he shared that he did not love me. My heart broke with such power I had never felt before and I felt destroyed. I wasn't sure if I could heal from the pain of being rejected by someone I loved so deeply, but I am now seeing things more clearly with "new eyes" and have a better perspective about why our break up was for the best. Today I am feeling much of me has healed and I am still on the voyage toward healing. I have been trying to see more clearly why our relationship did not work out and I have learned to see that it was mainly because our hearts were going in different directions. The other day I stumbled across a quote by a different French author, Antoine de Saint-Exupery, that struck a chord in me and offers wisdom about how I may be able to better recognize when I have found a good match in a partner: 

Where do poems come from?

Words that are etched into my friend, Max's, headstone at his grave. "From My Heart" is the title of the poem he wrote and shared before he died from cancer on June 6th, 1999.

While in college at the University of South Dakota I was enrolled in a Creative Writing course and I recall a moment talking with the professor about two poems I had written. As we were both looking at the poems I held in my hands she told me that she could clearly see that I must have worked harder on one than the other. I shook my head and told her she was mistaken. The poem that she thought I had spent the most time on was actually the one that had "just come to me." I wrote it in a matter of minutes and its appearance on the page felt effortless. On the other hand, the other poem was the one I had struggled with and it felt incomplete. I don't recall either of the poems, only what the professor had said about them and her opinion has stayed with me. I find it interesting that a college Creative Writing professor would not be aware of how sometimes you can feel "in the flow," dance with the Muse, or experience a spark of creative insight where stories, ideas, or poems may just come to you, while other times you may experience nothing and feel total creative blockage. I just assumed this was common, intuitively known wisdom but perhaps it is not.

When I ponder how poems can sometimes just come to people, seemingly out of nowhere, this makes me think of two people from my life who, unfortunately, are no longer alive: a former high school friend, Max Beeners, and my grandpa, Ralph Wallin. Both of them had each shared a beautiful poem before they passed away that each of them said "just came to them." I find this so fascinating and worth pondering. Where do poems come from? On this website about Max there is a paragraph under a picture of his grave marker which has his poem etched into it that reads: A poem written by Max Beeners, who died of leukemia five years ago. The poem is inscribed on his grave marker. Max's mother, Carla, says he wrote the poem in a matter of minutes, telling her the words just came to him. 

Part of Max's poem etched into his headstone.

When I read his poem, each time I am blown away by the beauty of its visionary message. He was given a gift that was not only for him but anyone else who loved him or simply loves beautiful poems. While I lived in the dorms in college I kept his poem taped to my closet door because of how much it means to me. I feel he gifted me and others something, like a vision, to hold onto to help me better understand not only his death but my own, whenever it comes to greet me. When I read Max's poem, it is so hard to put into words, but I truly feel the presence of God in it and that it is not cheesy whatsoever to really believe that this poem came from Max's heart, the gateway to a Higher Power. I like to imagine that Max truly had conversations with Jesus before he passed away, like his poem describes. Maybe the conversations were in his dreams or perhaps in a waking vision? I like the mystery of it all and even the mystery of where the poem, not simply the words, came from. I see it as one thing, not just a sequence of words strung together. I perceive it how one could look at a painting, as the entire image. I am guessing the words came to him, perhaps one by one, but in totality it was one thing that came to him---a beautiful poem. It beholds a vision and the same time it is transparent to the transcendent. I simply love it and I am comforted by his message where he says, "Some day soon you will walk the path and see, That leaving this earth is all a part of a Victory, And when God needs you above and not on earth anymore, I will be waiting for you in the gateway of heaven's door." I believe the gateway he is referring to can be found in the title of his poem. 

The other person in my life who shared a poem that "came to him" sometime before he died is my Grandpa Ralph Wallin. I was not made aware of his poem until after he had passed away, however. The first time I became aware of his poem was when I received his funeral announcement. It was printed on the inside of it. Sometime after his death I followed my curiosity which led me to reading his online obituary and messages people had shared in his Guestbook. It was by reading the messages that I discovered a message from his friend, Jeff Kroon, whom I had never met or heard of before. Jeff shared in his message that:

One day when Ralph was walking around his pond, these words came to him:

I heard the wind blow,
Watched a tree grow,
Felt the rain,
Smelled the pine,
Tasted Life.

He shared this poem with me and made me promise that I would never tell anyone that he had wrote this until his death. I love you Ralph. You will be missed."

My grandpa's gravestone with his poem etched into it.

Now that I think of it, these two people who had been in my life both also have their poems, that came to them, etched into their gravestones. It is very cool to realize this as well. What makes it all even more special and mysterious is that I found out that Jeff Kroon just so happens to be the uncle to another friend from high school, Nick, who was one of Max Beener's closest friends. The weaving of synchronicity is amazing to me.

I learned that Jeff is the uncle to my friend by contacting him to not only ask him if he was related to Nick but to also ask him more about his friendship with my Grandpa. Jeff had known my Grandpa Ralph very well and knows the pond that helped to inspire his poem, especially because he now lives on the land that he had bought from my Grandpa which is where this pond resides. Gratefully, when I asked Jeff if I could visit this pond, he said yes. It was a beautiful moment to see it in person but also to hear more about their friendship. I felt like I was seeing my Grandpa in a whole new light through the vision of his poem.

The pond, where my grandpa's poem came to him. This pond and land is now owned by Jeff.

My Grandpa's poem is simple yet so profound. I like that it is about the five senses and yet it also embodies a kind of "sixth sense" which is about sensing something seemingly unseen and beyond what can be viewed as "normal" perception. I feel that his poem points to where it came from, if only we can see where that is. I like to imagine that his poem, like Max's, came from his heart. There my Grandpa was, in solitude by his pond surrounded by the beauty of nature, likely feeling so much connection as the nature lover he was, and then the poem came to him. To me, I don't think that he was not caught up in his mind when the words came to him. I like to imagine that he was connected to his heart and something bigger than himself which reveals itself in nature, the visible face of God.

This quote that I discovered on a sign at the Mary Jo Arboretum in Sioux Falls, South Dakota where I live and like to frequently frolic embodies an answer, I feel, to the question, "Where do poems come from?"  

The Resurrection of Emma Lazarus' Poem

Not long ago, I had a dream about the Statue of Liberty standing so tall that it could be seen from a scenic spot in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

In the dream, it was nighttime as I was traveling down the road that goes by the Sioux Falls Penitentiary and though I didn't see the penitentiary, specifically, I knew it was there, off to my left. To my right, I could overlook some of the city and as I scanned the landscape I instantly noticed the "imprisoned lightning" being held by the torch of the Statue of Liberty. I couldn't believe what my eyes were seeing in the dream and I was blown away that I could see Lady Liberty all the way in New York City. It was a short but sweet dream that inspired me to dive deep into learning more about the statue. More specifically, I felt the pull to re-read the poem that is located on a plaque inside the statue's pedestal and to get to know the author, Emma Lazarus, more.

I had learned of Emma Lazarus' beautiful poem, titled "The New Colossus," a couple years ago via someone's post on Facebook but had forgotten most of it, including the title and name of the author. I guess the only thing that stuck with me was the powerful feeling of beauty that the poem had left in my heart the first time I read it. Once I Googled the poem, as soon as I saw the author's last name, Lazarus, I felt a wave of something powerful crash over me. Seeing the name Lazarus made the word "resurrection" rise up in me and in that moment I remembered that there is a story shared in the Bible about a man named Lazarus and also vaguely remembered that he had been resurrected from the dead by Jesus. This story instantly flashed in mind as I saw Emma's last name, but then I quickly put it aside as I went about reading and learning more about her on the internet. After I re-read Emma's beautiful poem on the National Park Service's website I clicked on her name so that I could read more of the back story about her and her poem. Little did I know that I would soon be surprised by a synchronicity in connection with Emma's sonnet.

On the National Park Service website it shares that after the initial popularity of Emma's poem, her "sonnet slowly faded from public memory. It was not until 1901, 17 years after Lazarus' death, that Georgina Schuyler, a friend of hers, found a book containing the sonnet in a bookshop and organized a civic effort to resurrect the lost work. Her efforts paid off and in 1903 words from the sonnet were inscribed on a plaque and placed on the inner wall of the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty." When I read that Emma's friend, Georgina, helped to resurrect her poem I was blown away by synchronicity. I think it's so cool that I had originally thought about the story of Lazarus in the Bible being resurrected from the dead and then I would go on to read about Emma's poem being resurrected after her death. What are the chances? It goes without saying that the statue itself is an amazingly beautiful work of art but I feel that Emma's poem brings its power to another level. It's hard to put into words. Poetry has the power to make the invisible visible. For me, I feel I needed to read Emma's poem in order to be able to see the true meaning inherent in the symbol of the Statue of Liberty. I am so thankful to be aware of this poem and I know that I am not alone in feeling this way about it. What an awesome friend Emma had in Georgina to work hard to bring her poem back into the public eye so we can clearly see what Lady Liberty truly symbolizes and be able to remember the song she sings to our hearts "with silent lips."

Statue of Liberty "resurrected" in Ghostbusters

Plaque located in the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty

Going From the Walking Dead to a Caged Bird Singing

In 2013, I bought tickets to see Dr. Maya Angelou speak at Augustana University in Sioux Falls. I was extremely excited as I am a big lover of poets and poetry. Also, at this time I was very intrigued and drawn to the deeper meaning behind the title of her autobiography "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings" so I was hoping to hear her speak about it and give more insight into its deeper meaning. Little did I know that my curiosity of the deeper meaning behind the title "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings" at this time was actually the beginning of what ended up being and still is a grand adventure of discovering what it truly means from my own perspective. I shared some of this adventure at an event in June 2014 called Pecha Kucha which means "chit chat" in Japanese. Here is a link to my recorded presentation titled "I See, Like a Bird, I Sing" if you are interested in hearing it: https://www.pechakucha.org/presentations/i-see-like-a-bird-i-sing  

Needless to say, my heart was filled with joy as I thought about listening to Dr. Maya Angelou speak in person. However, in an unfortunate turn of events, her talk scheduled for Wednesday, October 23^rd, was canceled due to the health issues she was struggling with at that time. I received the unfortunate news just a couple days before her scheduled talk and my heart sank as I had a feeling I might have missed my one and only chance to listen to her powerful voice and messages in person. My feelings were right. Dr. Maya Angelou passed away about 7 months later on May 28, 2014.

The very same week that I would have heard Dr. Maya Angelou speak I had planned to dance as a zombie to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” at the downtown Zombiewalk. The event was held the following Saturday after what would have been her Wednesday talk. Dancing to “Thriller” as a zombie was a powerful long held childhood dream of mine so you would think that I would have been elated to be a part of Zombiewalk, living my dream as the dancing dead. 

This is me as what I like to think of as Zombie Rose (from Titanic). My heart did go on and then I became a zombie.

But for whatever mysterious reasons, my heart was not feeling up for joining other zombies once the big occasion came around. I didn’t feel well on this day but I also felt so much more that is hard to find words for. All I know is that I didn’t have what it took to dance with heart or zombie brains so I ditched out on Zombiewalk. 

 After I decided to not join the dead at Zombiewalk I thought about what to do instead, despite the fact that I didn’t feel the greatest. Once I thought about it for a little while, it became clear that I should go visit my Grandpa Ralph, who was living in an apartment in a retirement village at this time. I hadn’t visited him in a few weeks so I felt an incredible pull to go see him. I am so very grateful to have had this visit with him because this visit turned out to be my most favorite time I spent with him due to the powerful and beautiful memories that were created. To this day, I am still in awe of what all unfolded during this special unplanned visit with my Grandpa Ralph.

As I drove to his apartment I called my brother, Justin, to let him know I was going to visit Grandpa, in case he wanted to stop by. Justin surprised me by saying he was actually on his way downtown to the Zombiewalk dressed as, not a zombie, but a full blown nerd. His idea was to be the “brains” that any zombie would want to eat. Haha! I thought it was a genius idea and great humor!!! Justin told me that he would meet up with me to visit Grandpa Ralph after he did his thing at Zombiewalk.

My brother, Justin, dressed as a nerd for Zombiewalk. I took this picture of him right before we visited our Grandpa Ralph.

Once my Grandpa Ralph took one look at Justin dressed as a nerd he began to chuckle. In fact, he chuckled on and off during our entire visit because of how much Justin both looked and talked like a nerd. Justin did his best "nerd" accent and said various humorous things about his pocket protector and calculations, among other things. I am certain that it was on this day that I saw my Grandpa laugh more than I had ever seen him laugh. It is simply one of the best memories I have to look back upon because of how much laughter was involved. 

I also love to look back on this memory because of a profound story that my Grandpa shared that caught me by total surprise. At one point during our visit my Grandpa grabbed some photos and photo albums and began sharing stories from his childhood and about his mother, Glady. He shared that his mom, being a big lover of nature, used to nurse wounded animals back to health. One such animal she happened to help heal was a bird: a rose-breasted grosbeak. 

I had never heard of this kind of bird until hearing about it from my Grandpa on this day. He shared that when his mom found this bird it had a broken wing so it could not fly. She somehow mended the wing and then kept it in a cage, obviously, so it could heal and then be released back into the wild. My Grandpa said that when the rose-breasted grosbeak was in the cage he loved listening to it because it sang so beautifully. I remember that when he talked about the way this bird sang his face totally lit up and he looked like he was filled with joy. It seemed as if he could still hear this bird singing in his memory and I don't doubt that its song lived on inside of him. He said, "And that bird would SING!!" I smile just by recalling this. It was amazing to hear this story for more than one reason. First of all, I am so grateful I didn't miss my opportunity to hear this story by almost succumbing myself to being a total zombie instead. Also, I am most definitely in awe of it because I just so happened to hear this story the very same week that I would have listened to Dr. Maya Angelou speak at Augustana College had she been well enough to travel. So as synchronicity would have it, my Grandpa Ralph, having no clue about the unfortunate cancellation of Dr. Maya Angelou's talk, shared a story about a caged bird that sang.

Below you will find a picture of the actual bird cage that my Grandma Glady used to house the rose-breasted grosbeak that sang so beautifully. It is now hanging in my Grandma Dorie's house and she enjoys decorating it her own unique ways. I love to look at it and see the deep meaning inherent in it. I hope to someday see a rose-breasted grosbeak in the wild and hear it sing because I just know this will make me light up and make my own "caged bird" sing. 

Do you know why the caged bird sings? I now believe this is one of the most important questions to ponder in life because of the quest it has the power to bring you on, if you are ready and willing to go on the adventure...

"Your heart is in a bird cage singing in your chest. You wanna shut it up but give it a rest. You're gonna die one day."    ~lyrics by Carsie Blanton from her song 'Smoke Alarm"

Click here if you would like to listen to a rose-breasted grosbeak's song

A Dream, A Death, and the Dance of Life

In my previous post, I shared synchronicities that Salma Hayek had with the poem The Prophet which were like dreams that came true for her. Dreams she held in her heart. Salma quoted this line from the poem in the talk she gave after receiving the Kahlil Gibran 'Spirit of Humanity' Award: "Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity." This line appears in the section of the poem that speaks about death.

I was deeply moved by Salma's story about how she was introduced to The Prophet via her grandfather and find it so beautiful how one poem can add so much depth of meaning to so many lives. It is truly magical the stories that unfold when one's heart connects with this poem. I shared my story of how this poem was introduced into my life in an earlier post. If you haven't read it or would like to read it again, it is located here.

Now onto the story...

As I have shared before, on November 23, 2013 I discovered this book at my Grandma Dorie's house during a time when I would stay with her some weekends to keep her company when my Grandpa Ralph had temporarily moved into a retirement community. When my Grandpa moved out it was very hard on my Grandma as they had been married for over 50 years by this point so it was, obviously, not an easy change to adjust to for either of them. Adding even more stress was the fact that my Grandpa's health was a growing concern at this time and he seemed to be getting increasingly skinny and weak. Thankfully, my Grandpa Ralph lived in this retirement community for only a few months, if that, and then decided to move home. I believe he experienced a change of heart while living in the retirement community. As I look back on this now, I have a strong feeling he knew that he didn't have much longer to live and in his heart he desired to die at home.

Shortly before my Grandpa Ralph arrived back at home, I remember hearing my Grandma Dorie talk with him on the phone while he was still at the retirement community and he had told her that he wanted to come home. My Grandma responded by saying something like, "Yes, your family wants you home, Ralph. Come home." Whatever she said exactly, it touched my heart so deeply. My Grandma felt so much relief knowing he was moving home and I felt relieved as well because I could see how stressful the situation was for both of them and my family. When my Grandpa arrived at home I honestly felt like I was looking at a different person because I witnessed an emotional side of him I had never seen before. I believe his heart was opening up because he knew his life was nearing its end. While living in the retirement community I think that he may have experienced his own sort of "life review" by looking deeply at the life he had lived to see what was ultimately important to him: the place he loved to call home and his family.

At one point, while I was in another room, I could hear my Grandma and Grandpa talking in the kitchen. For the first time, I heard my Grandpa start crying. He shared with my Grandma, in his own way, that he wished he would have expressed more love and affection to his family. He broke down and sobbed as he shared this from his heart. He said he wasn't good at expressing love because he had grown up in a household that didn't express a lot of love and affection, though I believe he still knew that he was very much loved. My Grandma tried to comfort him and I heard her say, "It's okay, Ralph." I am thankful that I was able to hear this powerful, yet tender moment between them because it holds a deep message that I feel my heart needed to hear. Shortly after this, I went into the kitchen when I felt I wouldn't intrude on their intimate conversation. I walked in as my Grandpa was heading to go sit in his favorite chair in the living room. As he was looking out the window he said to me, "Sarah, I never should have left." I said, "It's okay, Grandpa." Then he said,  "I missed the view from my chair." I then shared with him that I didn't see his moving out as a mistake which is the truth. From my perspective, I feel that him moving out is what helped him to gain more perspective on his life and to look at it more closely with the vision of his heart. I did not share this with him, though I wish I would have. I kept things short and sweet and simply told him that what mattered is that he was home now.  (I share more of my perspective about this, and more synchronicities involved in the story, in a Pecha Kucha presentation I gave in January 2017. If your heart desires to watch and listen to that story, here is the link: http://www.pechakucha.org/presentations/synchronicity-eye-on-the-surprise )

Later in the day, I asked my Grandma and Grandpa if I they wanted me to leave since my Grandpa was now home and also because I had been sleeping in his bed (they had separate bedrooms) but my Grandpa told me that he wanted me to stay. It's amazing how a simple statement like that can touch your heart so deeply. In a mysterious way, I felt honored to be staying with them during such an intimate point in their lives.

The day my Grandpa Ralph moved home from the retirement community became the first night in many years that he and my Grandma Dorie slept in the same bed. I can't even put it into words how beautiful this was in my eyes. I felt like I was witnessing a deep healing moment in their hearts and the heart of my family during this time and I felt so honored to see, hear, and feel all that I did. I value how deeply meaningful life is and this was my kind of deep. So, it was on this night that I slept in my Grandpa's room which was directly across the hall from my Grandma Dorie's room where they shared the same bed. Simple and yet so profound at the same time. And it was on this night, which was December 8, 2013 that I received a powerful gift----a dream inspired by a message in The Prophet. 

The reason I remember the exact night I had this dream is because I recorded it in my dream journal. When I experience a profound dream I record it right away so that I don't forget any details and because I believe they are truly gifts that hold deep messages that speak directly to one's heart and soul. It's not every night that I experience a profound dream such as the one I am about to share. This was a once in a lifetime dream, for it is said that one doesn't step into the same river twice.

Artwork: The Spirit of Flight by Josephine Wall (This is the image on the cover of my dream journal.)

I awoke at midnight to record this dream:

"I was standing on one side of a table while my Grandma Dorie and Grandpa Ralph were sitting in chairs on the other side of it. I began explaining to them how I see an ending as the beginning of something new and that endings and beginnings are part of the same thing, like they are one. As I was explaining this, I put my hands together, interweaving my fingers in a way that people do when they are praying. Then I said that I believe that when we die we go "Home," wherever "Home" may be. I said to them, "If I made it here (meaning Earth) safely, why wouldn't I make it home safely?" After I said this, my Grandpa Ralph's face lit up and he seemed to like and agree with what I had said. He had looked very old and hunched over sitting at the table but then once I said the part about going "Home" he lit up in such a beautiful way. Then I shared with them that I love the saying, "When we die and the Earth gets our limbs, that's when we truly dance." After I said this my Grandma Dorie then lit up and she began to dance all around with so much vibrancy. I was elated watching her dance! I yelled to her, "You're dancing with the wind!!" Then, before I knew it the dream shifted and I was walking with my Grandma. She told me that I didn't need to stay with her anymore because she would be staying with a friend. I felt a sense that my Grandpa had died because I was walking with her only. I told her that I understood."

It wasn't until I had awoke from this dream that I realized that something I had said in it was a line from The Prophet, though I didn't say it right. The actual verse from the poem that I had been referring to is: "And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance."  

After I had recorded this dream around midnight I fell back asleep and when I awoke in the morning I could very clearly hear my Grandma and Grandpa having a deep conversation in the living room. What they were talking about gave me goosebumps as it made me recall my dream. They were both sharing their beliefs about death and dying and what they believe happens when we die. I heard my Grandma ask my Grandpa if he was afraid to die and he very calmly said, "No." My Grandma shared that she believes our spirit leaves our body and goes to Heaven. I recall that my Grandpa agreed with her. Hearing them talk about their beliefs about death after having a dream where I had talked to them about my beliefs about death was beyond words powerful and beautiful. I only wish I would have gotten out of bed to join their conversation, but I didn't want to intrude on their intimate moment.

A little over three months after I had this dream about talking to my grandparents about death and then hearing their own conversation about death, my Grandpa Ralph died at his home in his bedroom on the morning of March 24, 2014 at the age of 87. It brings me to tears sharing this story because I do hold regret for not opening up to my Grandpa more before he died. I wanted to so badly but I was afraid for various reasons. I knew my dream had been telling me that he didn't have much longer to live and yet I was afraid to talk with him about deep heartfelt things in life. I, too, struggle with showing a lot of love and affection with those closest to me but I continue to work to change this about myself. I'm thankful for this dream and this story I have to share about my grandparents because it inspires me to listen to what my heart is saying, which is to express more love and affection in the world and to share more of what is in my heart. I have arrived at a point in my life where I feel like I have enough courage to share more of who I truly am. I have learned that it truly does take courage to open your heart, sharing who you truly are, to give love and affection because then you become vulnerable. But I have also learned that this is what life is about which means it's all worth it in the end, no matter the pain you become vulnerable to by opening your heart and following its lead in the dance of life. In the lyrics of the song 'Smoke Alarm' by Carsie Blanton: "Your heart is in a bird cage, singing in your chest. You wanna shut it up but give it a rest. You're gonna die one day....We'll go singing to the smoke alarms. We'll dance into the ground."

"My Heart Is Captured" by Amanda Cass