One of my favorite children’s books is “Scarecrow” by Cynthia Rylant which speaks of the peace of the scarecrow’s life in poetic prose. The story is an allegory for the impermanence of human existence. Every time I read it to my children, I am struck by these lines:

I feel this more and more every day. I don’t identify so much with my body parts as with the essence of my spirit. My flickr friend, laSilvi, posted this inspiring art today which truly echoes my own beliefs. She says, “my ego is not what I am”. I have learned this through the years. I see how people can “ooo” and “ahhh” over something like my eyes or my singing voice, but the truest reflections are not those that involve external beauty. Someone recently told me that when I sing, love comes spilling out. My love recently wrote to me, “Your eyes are a gift primarily because so many people sees themselves anew through them.” Beauty is as beauty does, I suppose. THAT is what I identify with and what I aspire to–to spill love all over the place and reflect the beauty and truth that I see all around me.

I believe my essence is LOVE. What the world sees are just borrowed parts made to look like someone.

I’ve just been visiting Keri Smith’s blog and reading her 100 ideas. She completely kicks ass. I told her so and I’m telling you. Her list inspired me to come up with my own list, “100 Paths to Ecstasy” on my site.

There’s a chill in the air and the sun is peeking out illuminating the moisture all over the green of the garden outside my window. I’m sitting here in my jammies, warm and snuggly in my bed as I type this. The smell of nag champa incense is drifting in from the living room scenting the air with sensual, spiritual spiciness. I am so blessed to have such a spacious life and to have wonderful tools to work with. Today I am thankful for laptops, cell phones, wireless routers, comfy pillows, amazing, supportive friends, and good coffee.

I’m also grateful for my beautiful children (see above). Every day with them is an explosion of sensory pleasure. I adore the smell of their hair, the sound of their trilling laughter, the feeling of their smooth cheeks against mine as they shower me with kisses and the burst of love in my heart that I feel whenever they throw their arms around me.

Life is very, very good.

My daughter, Alexandra, being her beautiful, crazy self in front Post Alley’s “gum wall” in Seattle, WA.

“Here’s to the crazy ones.
The misfits.
The rebels.
The troublemakers.
The round pegs in the square holes.
The ones who see things differently.

They’re not fond of rules.
And they have no respect for the status quo.
You can praise them, disagree with them, quote them,
disbelieve them, glorify or vilify them.

About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them.
Because they change things.
They invent. They imagine. They heal.
They explore. They create. They inspire.
They push the human race forward.

Maybe they have to be crazy.
How else can you stare at an empty canvas and see a work of art?
Or sit in silence and hear a song that’s never been written?
Or gaze at a red planet and see a laboratory on wheels?”

-Steve Jobs, C.E.O. of Apple

Amen, Brother Steve!

My angels are busy sending me messages today. I’ts a rainy, Seattle day and we’re warm and cozy inside. I made a big bowl of popcorn and snuggled up on the couch to watch Blue’s Clues with my three year-old.

On the show, they are having to wait until 2:00 for the “big surprise”. Steve is finding it hard to wait and finally says, “The time will pass more quickly if we play.”

Sometimes we have to wait to receive our big surprise or other things we’re waiting for but the time does pass more quickly when we play.

“Left Behind” taken with a Nokia 3650 cameraphone

I saw this child’s sock on this fence post on my walk today. My Spirit had been calling me to breathe in the fecundity of the Earth and I heeded the call. I went outside with my Teva sandals, a raincoat and no hood. I wanted to feel the rain on my face, to smell the wetness in the air. I used to ride my horse bareback in the rain as a child. I wanted to recapture that feeling.

So I found this sock. A symbol of lost childhood. It was a gift from my angels offered to me as a reminder to play, to dance, to skip, to regain those lost fragments of childhood that brought me joy.

I skipped, twirled, sang and splashed in mud puddles all the way home.