Scrooge no more…

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It seems to me that every year Christmas is appearing earlier.  This year it was the day after Halloween.  It used to be right around Thanksgiving.  The stores would begin decorating.  The radio stations would start playing 24 hours of Christmas music.  Next year it will be right after Labor Day.  In two years it will be after the 4th of July.

My fiancé and I were going to the movies the weekend of Halloween and I was searching for music on the radio since I left my IPOD at home.  When the tune began to evolve into Christmas melody I quickly changed it and said, “Nooooo! Gosh, I wish I could skip this holiday season all together.”

Matt asked me why I hated Christmas so much.  I was taken aback.  I decorated last year for him being our first Christmas together.  I have always gone above and beyond in my homes.  I must admit that I didn’t enjoy it but I faked it pretty well.  My children never spent a holiday without the appearance of a winter wonderland at home with magic in every room.  In my huge house in Florida I had several trees with themes.  One was kept throughout Easter.  After Christmas I took everything down and decorated it with hearts for Valentine’s Day, then immediately switched to St. Patrick’s Day ornaments and finally eggs and sweetness for Easter.   Matt’s question took me off guard as I was witnessing a beautiful mountain day.  Did I really hate Christmas?  Why hadn’t I ever thought of it that way?

I have disliked Christmas since 1977.   On the 23rd of December we were gathered at a family’s house celebrating and my father went out to get cigarettes…I’m still waiting for his return.  Every Holiday season after that I hoped he appeared like St. Nick.  Rationalizing that longing or reasoning makes no sense to me now as an adult but the ego and psyche are sometimes irrational beings.  Just because he left in Christmas doesn’t mean he would return on it.  After nine years, at the age of 18, I left home, and found him in Puerto Rico.  I spent two days with him realizing it wasn’t me that made him run.  It was him.  I visited him several times and kept in touch with him until I was in my thirties when he died from cancer.  My dad was 54 years old when I was born.  The man I saw throughout the years went from a 6-1” frame to a tiny sick version of a man.  My heart broke each time for the loss of his mind, body, and spirit.  But, Christmas still must go on regardless of the depth that has finally released with a simple question from my mate.

For the first time ever, Matt’s questioning made me fully aware of why I disliked the joyfulness of the holiday.  I cringe at the melodies, the in-your-face-too-early propaganda of commercialization.  The real meaning of Christmas has been gone since I was a kid.  I don’t see the gathering of loved ones without the stress.  I don’t witness the handmade cards, thoughtful and loving presents.   Christmas, and all the work in entails in a home, is lost in some form of materialistic translation.

This year I would like to skip it just like I wish I could every year, but our grand-daughter is with us.  She will be a year old on New Year’s Day.  The lack of space in our small home is daunting but we will find a place for twinkling lights and ornaments.

For the first time in a long time I left the Christmas music playing in the car yesterday while running errands.  I moved through the uncomfortable parts.  I sat there holding tightly to the stirring wheel.  “I can do this.  It’s okay.  I am not a scrooge.  I can love this season and all that it brings.  I am blessed for all that comes with the love of my family and friends.”  In the end it is about magic, hope, grace, and peace.  The little girl in me is finally coming to terms with a lifelong hidden awareness….and that’s an incredible rewarding Christmas gift this year.  May you find the joy in this season and the love for the child in you!

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The Tango

tango

Mami loved Daddy with fierce exhaustion,

gripping and manipulating her way

into his heart and life.

I watched, young and naïve,

expecting to love the same way

without clawing my way into anyone’s heart.

Her end result was always similar:

He would vanish while we slept,

appeared years later when in trouble,

and played the same role again and again

until the lights went out and he exited off stage

into parallel dimension.

I was left to soothe her, remind her of life,

as I walked around with a perfect halo of light

that would make her proud and forget

the hole she had inside.

I watched discovering love,

witnessing its complexities

not as easy and fearless as I felt in my core,

emulating it to look healthy when it wasn’t.

For a long time

I didn’t fall far from her examples

reliving a love that never was….

She never remarried.  Never gave another her heart.

And, when she looked at me,

my easy-going ways,

she was reminded of Daddy and his carefree attitude

that opened doors everywhere he went.

It could not have been easy….

Now with my own children I witness love:

the allowing, accepting, and awareness

that one cannot magically instill onto another,

often times the remains of being pushed,

shoved and discarded as they grow and learn.

Loving hard doesn’t mean enforcing yourself

while possessing their rights to be free

or to be imprisoned by the likes of a human being

as they will turn to reject the reason for this “love.”

Love isn’t Mami and Daddy’s way,

lost in translation of expectations,

words, gestures, and stories

while implementing rules, lies and excuses

for social opinions.

It is conceived from universal freedom,

two souls meeting again and again,

in a tango of beauty, compassion and respect

where nothing is expected

but everything is easily promised through

a contract of Divine light, wisdom,

and tenderness.

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Perception

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I had several dreams last night. Each time I was finishing one I would say to whoever was in the dream the same sentence, “The distance between worrying and reality is called perception.” I have no recollection of the dreams. I do have the quote imprinted in me because it was used many times. The line between fear, anxiety, stress and worrying is definitely a matter of perception. Reality is an illusion. When we finally let go of the belief that we have control the Divine steps in and aligns us with the best possible solution. Our higher selves begin to guide us and we allow for it. We release the doubts, discontentment, and disillusions that we can conquer everything by manipulating it. The veil of “what if” turns into a welcoming “what really is.”  A shift in consciousness is all that it takes…sometimes a lot easier than done.  It takes practice and every once in a while knocking the ego out of the way.

These dreams allowed me to wake with the knowing that the stress I’ve had has been a production of my perception. No doubt that the challenges have been real. No doubt that the heartache has been felt. No doubt that I have entertained the drama while knowing better. But, once I am aware of my perception I can relax and enjoy what’s ahead.

Have a great weekend, my friends. Release, recharge, and retreat! Love and light….Millie

“Change the way you look at things and the things you look at change.”~ Wayne W. Dyer

“There are things known and there are things unknown, and in between are the doors of perception.” ~ Aldous Huxley

 

 

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Yes

letting go

Say yes to the morning
whether her breath is cold with discomfort.
Wrap yourself in a blanket of hope.

Say yes to the evening
whether darkness keeps
you awake for hours.
Love the silence of the earth.

Say yes to the day
and all it brings with each hour.
Say yes to your body, mind and soul.
Say yes to love, a smile, a gesture and touch
because you are alive and connecting to
another.

Say yes to life, including sorrow, joy, loss and pain.
Say yes to the opportunities that are sitting ahead.
Just say yes and don’t look back.

Say yes to your stories, embrace them, and let them go.

You have a mission.
Say yes to finding what that is and why you are here.
Accept the purpose for this path….it isn’t a mistake!
It all starts with YES….

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Tornado

tornado

The night’s silence

was deafening

forcing thoughts to

travel into uncharted

corners of my mind.

I journeyed from here to there,

what if’s, when not, what to, where at,

in a lunatic chaotic frenzy.

The wind picked up slightly

inside,

outside,

and I felt the tornado of emotions

whisking through the body.

This is not me in waking hours;

this is not who I am.

I allowed the rhythmically

loving breath to guide me

into calming waters,

and then just like that…

I was asleep again

in the places where fairies run free.

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Our Story

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This story,

yours and mine,

touches me in the middle of the night

as I long to reach under the warmth

through the

miles of blankets and pillows

to feel your fingertips rubbing mine.

Between the snores, movements,

and exasperation of the room

I lay still

hearing your heart beat against

the fullness of silence

engulfing me with your past stories,

dancing with your present words,

desiring a moment of exhale

where you can be free from the traumas.

I think I loved you before we ever met.

I think I will love you even after this….

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Loving the Discomforts

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It is 15 degrees outside.  That’s what reads on my computer screen and from the movement of trees it must feel even colder.  To me it might as well be -5.  I am allergic to the cold weather.  Why do I live on a mountain, you ask?  Well, we came during spring and moved in summer.  I never experienced the cold.  Had I been here during a 25 degree morning it would’ve been the end of my expedition to Western North Carolina!  God had other plans.  I write this smiling while shaking my head in amazement!

I come from a tiny island in the Caribbean.  It is always warm.  I was raised in South Florida.  Sixty degrees for us Floridians is like 20 degrees for everyone else.  We get out the jackets, scarves and boots.  I know I am acclimating to this weather after four years because when it is 50 degrees here I am in tank tops and shorts.  I have been told that my problem with cold weather is the lack of clothing.  I don’t like to bundle up.  I hate wearing layers of material.  I don’t enjoy the thick sweaters on my skin.  I don’t like the amount of extra crap rubbing on me.  It just isn’t a part of my DNA.  I like flowing and light fabric on me.  I love feeling the sun on my shoulders, arms and legs.  I like to get up and go and not worry about hypothermia.   The older I get the more bones create a symphony in the morning time and with the cold…I have an entire opera of crackling.

This morning’s blog is not about complaining. It is about acceptance.  It’s about seeing through the discomforts and loving the parts that bring us there.  We will always complain about something or other when it doesn’t align with our comfort.  In order to love the light you must also love the dark.  It’s the composition of duality.  Our discomfort can be about a job.  It can be about a relationship.  It can be about a new pet.  Whether or not you embrace the issue is not as important as making peace with it.  Is there a difference?  You betcha!  I can embrace a person who is annoying me and still feel nothing.  The moment I find peace in their presence…then I am embodying their entire spirit.  See the difference?  It is about making peace with everything around you.  When we surrender to grace the mystical part of faith appears.  You don’t have to like it.  But, if you accept the discomfort and learn from it then you have given yourself the permission to find serenity. Our egos have a hard time letting go of discomfort.  The ego will nag about it.  It will create drama, twist and turn, churning the simplest issue into the most complicated event.   Ego will always participate in the large spectacle of narcissistic behavior.  “Look at me.  I am so freaking tired of this and that!  Woe is me!  Can’t  you see how miserable I am?”

The cold is just like any other uncomfortable emotion.  It doesn’t feel good.  Depression, sadness, anger, anxiety, fear, and helplessness are unpleasant feelings.  We complain about them, sometimes allowing them to stay with us for a while.  But, just like the cold, there are options to eliminating them.  The ego will fight that rationale to no end.  “No, I’m not going to the doctor!  Nope, I am not going to talk to someone!  Absolutely, no way, am I going to address this crap!”  The emotions become waves of icy water passing through.  Just like hypothermia there can be casualties.   I speak from experience: a stubborn characteristic has it’s time and place.  It’s not always the best leader!

The magic of life is that things pass.  It is only for a short while.  What’s three to four months in a lifespan?  Really not bad!  Imagine all the discomforts we allow for ourselves in our lifetimes!  Think of all we “put up with” for years when we have choices we can make to change.  I am learning to look at discomforts and instead of avoiding them, really figure out the lessons in them.  There are always small lessons in our days.

I love these mountains.  I love the seasons (minus the winter) but I can live with the cold.  However, I refuse to live with anything else that brings me discomfort.  I won’t tolerate long periods of putting myself through chaos.  Peace and tranquility have returned in our home.  Go bundle up and enjoy this day.  Keep warm and make peace with those things that you know are only momentary.  Mucho love!

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