EPILOGUE-Written By Cinnamon H. Lofton July 31, 2018

    Years ago, I was out for an early morning run (in Phoenix, that means 4AM). While running, I usually spoke with my Italian grandma who had passed forty years ago, giving me even greater heart access to her. More than I had when she was alive. Because when she was alive we lived in different parts of the country. After her passing, I invited her to settle herself in my heart where she continues to live and will forever. On this particular day, I began saying the Lord’s Prayer as it was originally written. Grandma suddenly interjected in her inimitable broken english, telling me that she wanted me to learn a new way to speak this familiar prayer. I thought and said out loud, “Grandma, are you kidding me? I am 2.5 miles from my house. How am I going to remember this!?” She said, “Not to worry, you will remember.” I knew that was true because my grandma was always right about everything, and even when she wasn’t, I let her think she was. For to me she was an icon. And indeed she was right. I remembered every word.  

     To the ear of the Christian listening, one could call it blasphemy to dare to change the words of this age old prayer. When I heard it though, I was so moved and so aware of the power of this change that I began to cry. I experienced it as going from a prayer that is pleading to one of complete and humble gratitude. To the reader I ask, please read the changes with your heart mind. It’s my hope that you will consider yourself blessed as I do and have, for all these years. 

     

An Adaptation Of The Original Lord’s Prayer

Father, Mother, God,

Creator of us all, 

Hallowed be thy name. 

Thy kingdom has come,

Thy will is being done, 

On earth as it is in heaven.

Thank you for giving us this day our daily bread, 

And forgiving us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.

Thank you for leading us not into temptation, And allowing us to deliver ourselves from fear.

For you are our Divine Creator. You love us and we love you.  

-Felicia Rizzo

THE LAST CHAPTER- She Laughed, She Cried, She Died

Aug 25, 2018

“Memorialize me by loving each other.” 

Cinnamon Hopkins Lofton 

1944-2018

"She spent her mornings riding the dawn with God. Somewhere out of the early darkness, I would call to her. And this calling lifted me out of my beliefs and into my knowing self. Day after day, I would rush into her arms. She would take me into herself and set me down at the feet of Love. We would reside there, watching the sun pass, watching our lives pass, like grapes to our lips. Now I spend my mornings riding the dawn with God. Somewhere out of the darkness she calls to me, and I, in turn, set my daily compass to her star."

-Heidi Cybele (Her Twin Soul)

THE LAST CHAPTER- Grief

“Grief is like bath water. When you first get in, it is really hot. When you relax and sit with it, it becomes a comfort and a cleansing. When it cools down, it’s time to get out.”  

August 3, 2018

    Cinnamon would often say, “If I had a tombstone it would read, ‘She Laughed, She Cried, She Died.’” Although she was choosing to be cremated, it was her way to help people be joyful about her return. It will only be a matter of time before Cinnamon’s body gives out. She’s in excruciating pain from the balls of her feet to the arthritic hooks in her neck. She is losing a lot weight, going blind, and no longer sleeping (not that she ever really did sleep much). How is THAT possible, God? For a person to function in the way that she has for all these years with such minimal sleep? My answer is always the same...

“The Light Of Love Is ALWAYS Stronger Than The Darkness Of Fear.” 

   Cinnamon’s loved ones have been coming in droves to see her. Both blood family and extended family of her heart. People whom she has unconditionally served for years. Former students have even flown in to see her, knowing that she can only give them an hour or less of her precious time. And it is precious. Every second that I get to speak with her, I cherish. In fact, I created that experience from day one and have truly never left her side. A soul connection too deep for description. Although I had a biological mom, I was always looking for a another mother. In my humble opinion, no one can ever have too many moms. I went through three possible adoptive moms before I met Cinnamama. As each one didn’t work out, I had lost all hope. 

    I not only received the best mama that I could have ever dreamed of, I met my mentor and best friend. When we first met, she knew me more than I knew myself. But when she would speak, my heart would sing. I had never felt more validated and understood. It was as if she had opened me up and saw every little nuance of my heart and ego. I made myself feel like the most loved person in the world for “the good, the bad, and the ugly.” I wasn’t the only one. She has blessed many others with her uncanny ability to connect with the divine, teaching me that there is no limit to how many people we can truly love.  

   I don’t know how much longer I have with my mama. I call her every morning from 6:15- 7:00. 

     “MORGANINO!” She says.

      “Morganino, Cinnamonino,” I reply. “How are you feeling? Did you sleep at all?" 

     Without an ounce of feeling sorry for herself, she still manages to bring up her Italian charm, lovingly giving me the what for...

     “Let’s bypass the ‘how are you’ question, Francesca. We know the answer...blah, blah...same story, another day.” 

     As I write this, here comes the grief. It’s so painful. I have a hard time wanting to let it out. It feels that if I start, I will never stop. The opposite is true, I must feel the grief in order to move through it. And I know that I am moving toward the beginning of something I have NEVER experienced. Up to this point in my life, no one to whom I have been really close has died. 

“It is important to feel grief and to feel it fully.

If you stop short of feeling it fully,

you’ll be stuck.” 

    Cinnamon has taught me a lot about grief. I have watched her mourn over others who have passed, and she has been true to her quotes throughout this blog. Who knew that she was going to teach me about how to grieve her own impending death...

     “It’s just a matter of being with the grief, Francesca. And patiently waiting for it to cool down. There is no such thing as death in the terms of the way people feel about it. There is just a newness of life. There is the walking dead and people are just not happy, and when you are not happy, you are not fully alive. I hope I am never as dead as some people, walking dead in the grocery stores. The beauty of death is that it can remind you of all the joy you have lived with your loved ones, and that death is a newness of life. You simply come into love for the sake of loving, and at a certain point in your contract with the game of life, you simply return to love.” 

     As she moves towards the light fearlessly, I couldn’t be more in awe of her courageous magnificence. She is being everything I have known her to be, an angel on earth.

THE LAST CHAPTER- A Ladder To Love

“Be a lamp, or a lifeboat, or a ladder. Help someone’s soul heal. Walk out of your house like a shepherd.” 

-Jalal-Din Rumi

July 27, 2018

     It’s been just over four years since the First Blood Moon, and just when I “think” there is nothing more to learn, its’ mysteries continue to unfold. The more I have let go, the more I am willing to see how my addictions to the “WHY?!? prevented me from solving my mysterious bond with Cara. One being that she came into my life for me to be a ladder. 

      What if I didn’t want to be a ladder, God? Obviously, my soul did, otherwise I wouldn’t have been one. The hardest part on my ego was to not resent the part I played in Cara’s life. To be grateful that I was a ladder for her to take Cinnamon on as her teacher and change her life as much as I had mine. Yes, I was a ladder. Still breathing into that one. Just think for a moment about the use of this ingenious utility. It helps us repair roofs, get into our attics, and even replace the battery to smoke detectors. Do we ever stop to think about how much we appreciate the ladder? Probably not. We may have a temporary moment of gratitude and then move on to the next task at hand. A ladder gets you from bottom to top and needs nothing in return. We step on it, throw it to the curb, and then pick it back up when we want it. Much like how many of us have treated our spiritual life. 

    My old fears surfaced, How is it possible, God, to create peace about being used up and forgotten when I gave my all to this woman? Do I really have another tear over this lost dream? SERIOUSLY? It all “seems” so unfair! 

    Dear beloved, Allow your tears to wash your eyes so you can see more clearly.” 

     I humbly acknowledge that these have been my judgmental and victimhood “thoughts” this morning after Cinnamon relayed to me that Cara is happy, healthy, and has created her dream life. “That bitch!”

     I wish I would have jumped for joy for Cara and her new beautiful life, but I went numb, instead. Having a family is something that I have so desperately wanted since my father often screamed, “I WANT family! What family? This is not a family!” I would scream back, “What about us? Don’t we count?” My mother and I sat there, me creating total dismissal. Yearning to have a family that I would call my own, I subconsciously deemed myself unworthy to have one. If I heard one more person with a close family tell me how “blessed” they were, I was going to hurl. For I had a family that acted like we weren’t even related when occupying the same room. I “felt” alone a lot of the time, calling friends (my lifeline) in the privacy of my bedroom, daydreaming of the days that I would create my own family. Cara was simply and subconsciously helping me extinguish my inner turmoil by being yet another person to “seemingly” dismiss me. This is when I could have remembered Krew, and the best heart family I could have ever dreamed of. Unfortunately, addiction doesn’t work that way. It drowns you in self rejection and makes you forget. 

     At one time, Cara truly felt like my last hope for creating the love that I always longed for. I was given the sacred gift to read her soul and admired her amazing light, even throughout her darkest time. I defended what I perceived as her “cold actions” with armor, assuring my loved ones (including, Cinnamon) that I knew who she really was and that she would align. Cara was beyond skeptical of the power of love, and I knew that Cinnamon could be the one to help her help herself if she would JUST give my teacher a chance. I continually said, “Cinnamon is the real deal, she may not have many years left.” Throughout the Four Blood Moons, I subconsciously dedicated myself to being Cara’s ladder, hoping that she would session with my mentor and wake up to consciousness. And then, “of course,” come back to ME in some form! Although it was my secret hope, it didn’t have to be romantic. Two plus two equals four, RIGHT? Sure, I wanted to help her, BUT I also wanted what I wanted. Her. 

     Well, as mentioned in a previous blog, Cara had finally suffered enough and was finally willing to really take Cinnamon on as her teacher. With incredible patience and unconditional love from Cinamamma, Cara created the discipline to love. She did it, she trusted my mama and returned to her all encompassing heart, making Cinnamon her CinnaMAMA, too. I was RIGHT! But when Cara moved on, spreading love to all her peeps (which did not include me; in fact, most of them didn’t even know I existed), I got to see my conditional hook. And... I was WRONG. She wasn’t coming back to me. She wasn’t even willing to be friends. Just another reminder that choosing to live in a “right vs wrong” mindset will bring you down every time. 

     As the array of lessons continue to unfold, I can see that God is genius. There is NO way that I would have spent hours upon hours talking and texting Cara if I wasn’t interested, romantically. Or if there hadn’t been all the mind blowing signs of alchemy. God knew that she needed help and A LOT of my time, and I needed to learn about UNCONDITIONAL love. The Four Blood Moons were NOT about romance, they were about change, and boy did we both do that. Actually, truth be known, we did a major overhaul. I later found out that although there were many times that I did love Cara, unconditionally, there were times that I did not. Although I had been a contributor for The Daily Love, I was still a puppy at the “Unconditional Love” game and just beginning to learn how to consistently love myself, unconditionally. I paid a high price for putting the Creation (Cara) over the Creator. A painful lesson that I needed to learn and still learning.

     Many times I “think” the suffering over our mysterious bond is completely gone, until Cinnamon purposefully says something about her for me to tap in, feel the pain of dismissal, and let go. I must admit, in these times, I create anger towards my mama. Why tell me how amazing she and her family is? What’s the point?!? I then want to kill Cinnamon and then myself. But seriously folks, when I am in my head, ignorance “seems” like bliss, and I don’t want to feel, much less go through my deeply hidden triggers of self inflicted rejection, not enoughness, and unforgiveness. I don’t want to create embarrassment for STILL allowing the whole scenario to get to me. Even if it is just a smidge. “NO EXCEPTIONS,” continues to be my mantra. With a grateful heart, I can clearly see that Cara came in to help me evolve and be the best version of myself. Although I know that she wants nothing but the best for me, our contract is complete. We are not even meant for a platonic relationship. Like it or not, the “what is,” IS. I will continue to love her always, unconditionally. 

“Freedom is the reward for unconditional loving.” 

     As I allow myself to feel, not suppress my pain for unrequited love, I am creating gratitude for the path which lays before me in the here and now. Finding Francesca In The Four Blood Moons will never be forgotten. A prophesied change that was critical for me to learn who I really am and who I am dedicated to being in the world...A Ladder To Love. 

THE LAST CHAPTER- One Year Later

“The only real common sense comes from a free spirit.

The rest is simply justification for addiction.”

May 5, 2018

     My heart sister, Tanja, and I were speaking recently about our divorces. A common topic of conversation for us. We lived and breathed all the years of growing up together, and I am so grateful that we almost know every nuance in one another’s lives. 

     As she plopped herself down on the white couch, she said, “You know what I always tell people, Francesca? That my life was sooo much easier when I was married.” She then opened her eyes wider, raised her hands, and began to give me the countdown with her fingers...”I had plenty of money, a beautiful ocean view home, and didn’t have to work. I seemingly had it all. But you know what, Francesca?”

     What? I said. Even though I had a pretty good idea of what she going to say next.

     “It’s so much better, now!” Let me repeat...”IT’S SO MUCH BETTER!” 

     Ditto, sister. DITTO!

     The day that the Kaptain and I first decided to get a divorce, I really didn’t think that my life would be THAT different. I had been single before (for a few “minutes”), and I really “thought” that I had it all figured out. Uh...What land did I live in? If I had been given a crystal ball, and it conveyed to me what my following four years would look like, I may have clung to the Kaptain like my last breath of fresh air. Thank God that wasn’t the case. 

     Let me see as I give you my list from 2014-2018...A new rental by the lake and name, full time hygienist, going back to school, falling for and breaking up with two women, liver cancer, saying good-bye to my parents and childhood friends, hiring a lawyer, moving home, major income adjustment, single mom, a radically different diet, gray hair, and an ex who didn’t want the familial closeness that I had once hoped for. I hurt myself so much with the last one. Sure, the Kaptain and I have periodic family outings and he “trying” to work with me as a united front with our son, but I really “thought” that he would be a bigger part of my life. That we would meet partners and spend the holidays together. That we would grow even closer, not farther a part. It seems the more that we are a part, the more different we have become. He has become so radical in his Republican conservatism that I often don’t recognize him anymore. Many people (including my ex), may think, “Get in the real world. What did she expect? It’s a divorce!” My answer is love. When you love someone, it doesn’t stop because you change form. I have come to experience that it can even grow stronger, deeper, limitless. I am glad to know that as up and down as we have been, I truly love him and that’s more than enough. I wish I could write this story with a fairytale ending, and alas, it is what it is. 

     It has been one year since the doctor took 60% of my liver. Just recently, the specialist told me that there is a suspicious lesion that he wants to watch on the other side of my liver. Yes, my friends, I am not out of the cancer woods, yet. Will I ever be? I have lived with it for most of my life. Once an enemy, now becoming a friend. It reminds me to surrender and trust that there are no good addictions, even to living. 

     For now, I am doing everything possible to heal my life and choose me. The more I accept the God in me, the more I have the love to give others. In a time where one might think that I am stressed to the max, I am enjoying the world and actually BETTER than I have ever been. My life could “seem” unfair at times, and I may not have everything I once dreamed of, but I know my purpose. To love and allow myself to be loved.

THE LAST CHAPTER- Arrested Development

“Sometimes the greatest gift Love gives is to crack the shell.” 

-Cybele (Love Song)

March 8, 2018

     When I was sixteen, I had my first experience with alcohol. Two wine coolers with my childhood bestie and her cousin in some random field. I remember making the conscious decision to pound them down. A choice that changed the course of my life. I was done figuring out my own identity and being treated like my father's obsessive possession. I hated not knowing who I was, still "feeling" like a kid with the body of a woman. Alcohol and every other worldly self absorbed distraction (shopping, dieting, decorating, analyzing, partying, gossiping) "seemed" to be my answer. I did this for a very long time.

     As my friends and I drank, I remember justifying, "When I am an adult, I won't do this. This is what teenagers do."  We took off for the High School dance, and I had never "felt" more happy. I FINALLY didn't give a damn. 

     Throughout my 20's, 30's, and early 40's, I continued with the pattern of my teenage years. I would drink those first two drinks to ease the relentless edge of my "not enough" mind chatter. I hung out with partiers and lied to myself that I wasn't one of them. After all, I would only have three and THEY would get wasted. Oh man, how I could dilute and defend my actions like a lawyer. I have never considered myself an alcoholic, AND...I was definitely addicted to anything that would keep me from the excruciating pain of my...arrested development. Including my romantic interest in Cara and the mystery that still unfolds...

     To shortly recap, I met Cara on the First Blood Moon of FOUR, prophesying, CHANGE. At the time, I had no idea about what the tetrad represented, nor did I care. I was living in some altered state of consciousness with NO alcohol. I have come to know that I was experiencing what is said to be a "Kundalini Awakening."  

"The point of this awakening is the true beginning of the journey back to God. It is the surrender of the ego self to the divine. It awakes the dormant energy within. The point where the drop of water is rejoining the ocean of oneness."

     I was living heaven on earth, and never wanted it to end. I told myself that she was my answer to a void that I had never completely filled. My missing puzzle piece that I had felt since childhood. My fear told me that I could never obtain that "feeling" again without her presence, catapulting me into many dark days and nights. What a powerless place to be, especially when your soul connection is confused as hell and runs back to the familiar. Until, she didn't.

     Although I was forty-four and she was twenty-nine, we were still...girls. Something beyond magical occurred after our "chance" meeting four years ago. We grew up. You see, Cinnamon (my mama) became her CinnaMAMA, too. In the last FOUR years, she has raised us both (separately) to be who we really are: Love.

     Cara and I were and are so different. Different age, different personality, different upbringing; and yet, like the children's fable, "Stellaluna," very much alike.

"Stellaluna is a female megabat separated from her mother bat and taken in by a family of birds where she must put aside her "bat habits" to fit in with her new family. But one fateful flight, when she is separated from her adoptive siblings, Stellaluna is reunited with her bat family and learns that even though we're different, we are very much the same."

     On March 8, 2018, I woke up at 4 AM with a voice from within that said, "I AM A WOMAN." In that moment, I knew that love is not about what I want. It is about what serves the whole, which always includes me. Love knows far better than what my limited mind can reach. She is real and present and dwells from within. A divine dance when I choose to rejoice in her brave wisdom. 

    I fell back to sleep only to wake up to a post on Facebook...

   "Happy International Woman's Day!"

    I had NO idea.

    For the first time in my life, I actually created excitement about celebrating the true meaning of this day. I could relate.

    In a world of others experiencing arrested development, distracting ourselves with anything and everything, we could create the wisdom to see that although we "feel" different, we are very much the same. In a world of me, myself, and I separation, we could experience oneness.

    As tears fall down my face, I am grateful. Thank you all for reading my heart. Love gets lost in the details of our personalities. For I am you and you are me, mirrors of spirit having a human experience. If you still "feel" like a scared kid inside, please remember that you are never alone, and I get you. 

"The Light Of Love Is Always Stronger Than The Darkness Of Fear."

     As this chapter of my life comes to a close, I continue to remain open for magic and miracles. In order to be a woman or a man, we never have to let go of our youthful spirits. It is that part of us where fairy dust is real, and hope is unnecessary. For we know that all we have to do is ROAR...

THE LAST CHAPTER- The Living Love Sanctuary

“Love takes all the blinders and limitations off so that you can see the innocence in yourself and others.” 

     When my tenant (who happened to be a lawyer) refused to move out of the house that I had owned since I was twenty-five-years-old, I didn’t want to deal. Much like how I didn’t want to deal with my ex husband who gave our tenant a lease that benefited him more than us. When the Kaptain and I divorced, I created excitement to live in SLO and start my life over. I really didn’t want to move into the house, anyway. At this point, it was just another reminder of failed relationships, including the one I had with my father. 

     Now, three years later, I take responsibility for not following my intuition, allowing my ex husband to take the reigns on the place while we were still married. Begrudgingly, I let him talk me into a different lease than I had been using for years. In these partnership moments, God doesn’t tell you that one day you will be divorced, and it will all be ALL on you. So, you go along with your mate and pay for it many years later. My father’s judgements continued to scream in my head, “You didn’t take care of your goods, Kathleen!” Well, he may have been “right” about the house, and his righteousness and separateness from my ex didn’t create closeness. So, no one wins. Being RIGHT is not worth it.

     Once the news came in that the lawyer was “sorry” about our divorce but wasn’t budging, I learned quickly that divorcing the Kaptain was not going quite as planned. I “thought” my ex would help me out and that WE would be dealing with the house, together. After all, he was the one who had met and rented my house to the lawyer in the first place. The Kaptain did go to one lawyer who said that there was no way of getting out of this lease, and that was that. I learned quickly that it was all on me, and I just didn’t want to deal with it or the money that it would take for me to get the tenant out. Obviously, I had more growing up to do. 

      I spent three years, renting on Laguna Lake. I  learned so much about working with landlords, maintenance men, homeless people in my backyard, mice in the bedroom, and living on my own without a MAN. And of course Krew, fifty percent of the time. But now, it was critical for me to get back into my home. I was still recovering from liver cancer surgery, and I needed a safe haven for me to dwell. I am a nester, and I no longer wanted to live on the fearful path of  “not dealing.” It was timely to take action.

     I began to converse with my tenant via email, telling him about my plight. Again, he was “sorry,” but not moving. Man, I was so tempted to aggravate my liver and give my power over to this man who is clearly separate from his heart. Never mind a divorce, not even liver cancer budged him. WHERE IS HIS COMPASSION? Cinnamon continued to work with me on creating forgiveness and helping me relax into my heart where God’s wisdom resides. I knew that throwing away my peace only breeds ignorance and wouldn’t help me get my house back. I needed to stay alert and create compassion for him and his fears without abandoning love. This was a delicate situation which needed me to continue to take responsibility for NOT following my instinct, giving my ex carte blanche, and creating separation from my father. The house did not need to be an “F*** You” house like my dad had once stated. The house will be what I make it to be: A Living Love Sanctuary. 

     My ex girlfriend and I were working on creating a friendship since our breakup, and she gave me the phone number of a friend of hers who happened to be a lawyer in Seattle. He subsequently found me the perfect lawyer here in SLO Town. I was on my way. I had done everything to avoid lawyers, including going through mediation throughout the divorce. They seemed to be so intimidating, but I was no longer willing to allow anyone to power trip me. After our first meeting, he told me that this could cost me 50k or more. Because of my liver and poor prognosis, I felt that I had nothing to lose and hired him. I stayed in the attitude of gratitude that I even had that much in savings. 

    After  months of going back and forth, the lawyer moved out. Fortunately, it didn’t cost me as possibly predicted. The total was about 5K. Education costs; and boy oh boy, did I learn. On the last day of  Krew and I moving out, I put on the same jean shorts that I wore moving into my home when I was in my mid twenties. This time, I was going to accept this house fully as my own and treat it as such. As my son and I looked around and said goodbye to our rental, we walked out, and the garage door broke. We couldn’t get back in. It was as if our Lake House subtly and not so subtly said, “Finito!”

     In the last eleven months of living in my sanctuary, I have dealt with all the neglect. Sure, I could blame the tenants for not telling me that there were rats in the attic or that a fence had fallen or that my backyard looked like right out of the children’s novel, “Where The Wild Things Are.”  I could do that, creating more stress on my organs. And taking responsibility (not blame) for MY neglect has made all the difference. It was all in divine order for me to see that this was NOT my father’s house, or even mine. It was God’s house. If I had moved in any earlier, it wouldn’t have been appreciated for the gift that it is. The old oak tree is still standing, compassionately knowing everything I’ve been through. It’s roots are deep and it’s branches look like they are supporting the house with so much love. Like someone is giving you a a big hug every day. Cinnamon even felt a connection from the moment she first saw it. If I hadn’t accepted her help, I know that I wouldn’t have created the courage to stand up for myself in the way that I did. When she passes over, I plan to bury some of her ashes in a spot that she has picked out at the base of the tree. I can only begin to imagine what that day will be like. Stay HERE, Francesca. 

     For now, every Sunday, Living Love classes are held in the afternoon, and Cinnamon is training me on how to teach a beginner’s class. I see this sanctuary as a place of service. In my twenties, this home had helped a lot of people get on their feet. People who had been dumped on by their boyfriend, husband, or even friends. People who couldn’t afford a place, or who needed a reprieve from it all. Who knew that (this time) it was here to serve me. I am so grateful and finally willing to receive it, fully.