THE FIRST BLOOD MOON- Twenty Blogs

The First Blood Moon

"Love fills all the nooks and crannies of your heart, giving the experience of being whole: One with your body, mind, and spirit." 

     After a year of long distance communication and many unfathomable signs and serendipities, I couldn't wait to meet Cara. I felt like I was getting ready for Prom and spent an hour (or, was it two?) getting ready. Ironically, we had started the "Walk and Talk Peace Train" on Facebook with friends near and far (videoing ourselves walking and talking about our individual spiritual journeys), and we were now going to actually meet at a train station in Santa Barbara. This was just two weeks after the Kaptain and I decided to get a divorce. Contrary to some people's assumptions, our reasons for shifting our relationship had nothing to do with her. Shortly after our split, I finally gave myself permission to be me and allow my romantic bisexual stirrings to surface. Ideally, it would not have been so soon after the extraordinary changes with the Kaptain. And then, there's the 'what is.'   
     

      Without a doubt, our union was destined in the stars. Cara and I met for the first time on the morning of the first of four blood moons (or lunar eclipses). The sequenced tetrad was said to be scheduled six months apart. I recently read on the internet that... 

    "This pattern of lunar tetrads has occurred a total of seven times since the time of Jesus, with the 'eighth time' scheduled to happen in 2014-2015. Interestingly enough, the number eight in the bible represents new beginnings."

Monday, April 14, 2014  (The Train Station)

     At the risk of sounding as though I'm borrowing from some romantic novel, when my eyes connected with my fellow aquarian, my breath was literally gone. I even gasped. Cara did not notice, nor did she seem to have the same reaction. I did not mind. She was a younger person (twenty-nine, to be exact) and quite beautiful. Just envision a petite Julia Roberts with an auburn pixie haircut streaked with highlights. I immediately experienced her energy to be fearful, sad and withdrawn. Her hug was hesitant as she nervously patted me up and down my arms, and said..."Are you real?"

     She wasn't being the deep, connected, or out-going person that I perceived from her writings, texts, and videos. I loved her despite the seeming duplicity. This was such a different experience from my "prove yourself" program. I had never created such happiness for the unconditional love I could experience for another. For what most people could deem as a mere stranger. I had truly experienced, "Love At First Sight." The magical phenomenon that I had doubted since childhood. It did not matter if she was a male or female. I had never loved myself more and had the love to give, unconditionally. There was no shame or addiction to the GOOP (Good Opinion Of People). For the first time in my life, I connected more to the spiritual essence of a person than their physicality.

     Although I wanted to shout it from the rooftops, it was not timely to tell Cara about my absolute love for her which was more encompassing than anything I had ever felt. I just needed to calm the "F" down, continue to breathe, and hope that she was creating the same experience. 

     After a full day in Summerland where we spent intimate time sipping tea at a store that reminded us of Bali, The Sacred Space, Cara and I went to the hot tub of our hotel overlooking the Pacific. I couldn't help but notice her gorgeous physique and a delicate rose tattoo along her lower back. Roses have never been my favorite flower, but this one struck my nervous system.

     I can still imagine my mouth, slightly open, half listening to her complaining about the challenges she was creating with her recent break-up. And then...I remembered. Her main purpose in coming to California was to meet Cinnamon and I for assistance. Claiming my own innocence, I could clearly see how my romantic illusions were not serving, and it was timely to put my spiritual "big girl" pants on. In those days, I created a hard time, knowing how to merge "mind, body, and spirit." Still breathing into that one. I have come to learn that Love ALWAYS serves the whole. 

     Once I released my addiction to Cara recognizing me as her soul family, she seemed to relax. I suppose my panting puppy energy wasn't working for her. I couldn't help it, creating a total sense of euphoria and addictively demanding that she be just as excited for what I considered our co-created phenomenon.

     We decided to go to my old stomping grounds while attending UCSB back in my 20's, Joe's Cafe. At this point, I was starving. My adrenals were beginning to fail, and I needed to chill out. So here I am, finally relaxed while chowing down on the best appetizers ever. She started to stare at me. Total silence and soul to soul eye lock, stripping me down to nothing, and yet, everything. I felt like a Goddess. Yes! She's remembering our soul's contract, I thought. Oh, God...please help me breathe! 

     After what seemed like eternity, I said, "So...why are you looking at me like that?" She literally shook a bit out of what seemed like a trance-like-state. She seemed to be unaware of her staring. 

     Her response to my query was...

     "Do you know who you look like?"

     "Most people say, Kate Hudson?" I replied. 

     "Nope, you look like Gwyneth Paltrow." 

      I laughed. In Summerland, we had already established that she resembled Julia Roberts. 

      With great relief, I replied..."Gwyneth? I don't see that at all, but thanks." 

     As much as I wanted to talk about the dynamic tension within me, I knew that it would be too much to disclose my truth for both of us. Instead, I continued to lick up the validation like every last bit of puppy chow. I had never experienced the intense gaze from her eyes that was present. It felt like sharing countless lifetimes all at once. I created the illusion of completeness that I thought existed outside myself. According to my romantic notion, my lifelong missing piece was finally filled, and I was home. I was yet to learn the excruciatingly painful lesson that NOONE has the ability to complete me. Only I have the power to create wholeness. 

     That night (or early Tuesday morning, 4-15-14) was the FIRST Rose Blood Moon. At this point, I knew nothing about what it symbolized. It was around 12:30 AM, very foggy and difficult to see, if at all. We stood against a wall outside our hotel, thinking that we saw a tinge of red. Probably, because we wanted to. Either way, I didn't mind. All I thought about was holding her. I only wished I could. 

    The following morning she told me that she had never slept better. But of course you did, I thought. We are Better Off Together. (A song she had dedicated to me prior to our meeting). 

Paradise Found

“So many questions. Only one answer. 

Love. 

How simple it is.” 

     Our inner voice. What is it? Where is it? Which voice is it? Yeah, I get it. For years, I confused myself over which was which. People would advise, "Follow your heart."  But...but...I had too many thoughts to decipher which one to follow, mind or heart. It felt like a game of emotional Ping Pong. Totally exhausting. 

    And then one day, my inner voice found me. From a Clairvoyant (visionary), Krystal. She helped me help myself for years while attending conventional therapy and Al Anon. Bit by bit, I would wake up to truths that were hard to swallow, and yet, I would set myself free with each and every one. 

     Krystal was mostly my secret. In those days, I was over-the-top concerned with being understood and validated. Let's face it, most people are skeptical when it comes to psychics. I say, "Don't throw the baby out with the bath water." 

     She cried to me once about her experience of emotional abandonment from her religious family when she quit her day job as a teacher and followed her heart. Bigotry, a seven letter word for FEAR. I immediately created compassion for her challenges, knowing that I would one day write about our time spent together. 

     Sitting in a big purple chair, she would often tell me what I didn't want to know but already knew. It often wasn't about the future or the past, but she would help me see that my future was based on what I was doing in the present moment. Hmm...We have a choice in how we play the game of life, and I realized that "Kathleen" was tired of doing it HER way and change required CHANGE.

     Krystal helped me acknowledge the voice that had been with me all along. The gut feeling that I usually wanted to ignore and often did. I would leave with a smile and an "I knew it all along" energy. I never felt more alive and with it. 

     Krystal was one of the first visionaries I have seen throughout the years, and in my opinion, one of the best. Always honoring her as one of my "firsts" who helped me change my life forever in Finding Francesca. 

April 15, 2014 (Day TWO)

     After eating a complimentary breakfast in our hotel room, Cara and I were off for the day. While downtown, we walked into a metaphysical store, Paradise Found. 

    There was a 1:00 opening with a popular intuitive (which was rare), so we signed up TOGETHER. I had never had a reading with someone and feared that she would tell Cara my secret. While waiting, Cara browsed the aisles. It was the first time I didn't care about what she was doing. I just had to sit down, listen to music, and breathe (DEEP).

     After our names were called, we sat down in a little room in the back of the store just big enough to fit a small round table, three chairs, and the psychic's well mannered standard poodle at our feet. With my pen and paper in hand, the curtain was drawn... 

     She took one look at us with a gratifying smile and said that our union was indeed destined to take place. That there was nothing or no one that could have kept us a part. She put her hands together as if to make an explosion. Cara and I glanced at each other and smiled. What a relief, I thought...Thank you, God. This lady meets my models. 

     She started with me. She said that my energy was much like that of Athena (the greek goddess) with a magenta aura, rebellious and creative, galloping bareback on my horse. She said that I wanted to live in a spiritual world and how confused I was as a child, knowing that the earthly world did not make spiritual sense. In my past life, she said that I was the ultimate Viking warrior. In this lifetime my spiritual focus was to share the message of peace and love, and to prepare myself to be misunderstood at times. I smiled to myself at the thought of the infinite possibilities of being my true self. 

     But when she looked at Cara, she lowered her voice and said... "You don't know what you want, but you have many options." What options? There’s only one, and that’s with me, I thought. With much compassion, the clairvoyant empathized and knew how troubled Cara must feel, flying back and forth in limbo between the lands of love and fear. Cara nodded in agreement. Which one would she choose? Such a heavy burden that she was unwilling to let go of. As I sat and listened, I did not hear. I was unwilling to see her fear. Painful lessons ahead.

    Before we left, the clairvoyant had one last bit of guidance. She said that we were to write a book. It was to be called, One Window, Two Views. She gave us a name of an author, and told us to study her writing. I remember panicking, "Two Views?" What does she mean? My mind replied, Ignore her. 

The Bluebird Flies Home (Bye-Bye Bluebird)

Bluebird- Poem by Charles Bukowski

there's a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I'm too tough for him,

I say, stay in there, I'm not going to let anybody see you.

there's a bluebird in my heart that 

wants to get out

but I pour whiskey on him and inhale 

cigarette smoke

and the whalers and the bartenders 

and the grocery clerks

never know that

he's 

in there.

there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out 

but I'm too tough for him,

I say,

stay down, do you want to mess me up?

you want to screw up the works?

you want to blow my book sales in 

Europe?

there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out

but I'm too clever, I only let him out 

at night sometimes 

when everybody's asleep.

I say, I know that you're there, 

do don't be 

sad.

then I put him back,

but he's singing a little in there, I haven't quite let him die

and we sleep together like 

that

with our

secret pact

and it's nice enough to

make a man

weep, but I don't

weep, do

you?

     Three days in Santa Barbara, and we drove an hour up the Cali coastline to my hometown of Arroyo Grande. I played my latest Phillip Phillips CD and his new hit, Home. Cara began to cry. I automatically reached over and held her hand. In every sense of the word, I told myself that we were finally "home."

     I drove by my old high school, current place of work, and then through the old historic village of Arroyo Grande. Our first stop was Willis & Bennett (my friend's, Julie and Greg's, one-of-a-kind furniture and gift store displaying hand selected pieces from around the world). Within minutes of walking into the store, she found a ceramic bluebird that she had been looking for. 

     Months prior, Cara had texted me a picture of her new tattoo on the wrist of her left arm. It was a profile of one single bluebird, facing right, directly above a line of four bluebirds facing left. The isolated one, looking in the opposite direction of the others, symbolized the road not taken. It is the one who sits in her heart (wanting to be free) taken from Charles Bukowski's poem "Bluebird." She had finally found what she had been looking for for years, a replica of a blue bird to put on her bedroom alter. Julie wrapped it in delicate tissue and gave it to Cara as a gift, welcoming her to the central coast of California and our group of friends that I refer to as “our flock.” 

     From there, we drove to San Luis Obispo, just fifteen miles north. I couldn't wait to introduce her to my sister. Tanja was working that day as a manager of a high end clothing boutique, Coverings, in the center of the town. As we walked through San Luis Obispo's historic and disgusting Bubblegum Alley, Cara casually mentioned how she wouldn't mind working in a clothing store. Before we knew it (and about thirty minutes later), she was being interviewed by the owner of Coverings. Just like that, the door opened. All we needed to do was mention a desire, and BOOM... the Universe delivered. I told myself that it was another sign, paving the way for her to leave her hometown and be my new roommate. At this point, I had no intentions of telling her about my romantic feelings. 

     And now for the final test: My son. Being a highly sensitive person, his response to her was critical to me. He often gets excited when friends come to our home, but this visit was something quite extraordinary. The night before, he spent one hour (if not more) wrapping his own individualized crystals and stones with different color tissue paper; including, a rose quartz heart which Cinnamon had given him. Carefully, he placed each one in a black box displaying them among white paper grass raffia-looking much like a box of easter eggs. He then wanted one more surprise and took some of his own money (which at the time he was obsessed with), hiding it underneath the displayed treasures. One could think that Superwoman was coming to town. Even now, three years later, he has never spent this much time on a gift.  

     After the interview, Cara and I left Coverings and picked my son up at school. Without hesitation, he flew into her arms. Due to his sensory challenges, it usually takes him awhile to warm up, much less jump into someone's embrace. I took it as yet another sign that Cara was our long lost soul family member.

I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU

“When you are choosing love, no one can take advantage of you. You are doing what your heart says, and you must do that no matter what. You are at the whims of no one.” 

    As the week progressed, there were moments where she looked lost, elsewhere. I would tap her knee and say, "Come back to me." Our eyes would lock, and like magic, I felt that I had been transported back in time. I had never experienced anything quite like this electrical force before. Her entire body softened and love seemed to emanate from every pore. I disregarded the fact that she was not a male. I loved her and that was enough. I asked her why she was staring at me in THAT way. She did not seem to recognize that she was. Never in my life had someone gazed into my eyes in the way she did. I experienced myself in a way that I never had before or thought possible. 

 April 18, 2014

     It was Friday night, and we met up with Tanja for dinner at the restaurant/sports bar, Rooster Creek, in the village of Arroyo Grande. When they first met in SLO town, Tanja and Cara had a lovely and warm exchange; so naturally, I expected a fun-filled girls night. Well, you know what they say about "expectations.”

     All I wanted to think about was romance, and the fact that I had made the brave and vulnerable decision to TELL Cara the following day. My soul wanted for me to come forth about my feelings, and leave the rest to God. 

     Up to this point, I had not created compassion for what Tanja must have been creating with my dramatic changes. Repeatedly throughout the week, she would privately say to me, "It's like you have been blue your whole life and now you're purple. Which one are you, blue or purple?" All I could think of was that love is just love. Can't explain magic. Her undercurrent of homophobia, and fear of not being my primary female friend was surfacing. I didn't care. I had found the one, and that's all that mattered. Selfishly, I had forgotten that love serves the whole. I was yet to learn that choosing an alternative lifestyle would be a huge catalyst of change for many of my relationships. To create authentic bonds, patience, tenderness, and understanding would be required on everyone's part. After thirty-plus years of friendship, Tanja and I were given the grand opportunity (and universal test) to grow closer together or apart... 

     As we sat at the high table, the energy between my two favorite people was so distastefully off that it was palpable. I did everything to distract myself from the obvious, wondering why Tanja was not being her sunshiny self, considering that she knew that I would be telling Cara about my feelings the following day. Cara seemed to pick up on the fearful energy, too, and began to perform like some tough girl. I continued to "try" to make it all comfortable by asking Cara to tell Tanja about some of her funny "tattoo" stories. Tanja squeaked out some plastic response. It was not fun. 

     As the night progressed, my best friend looked as though she had eaten sour grapes and was about to vomit. She could clearly see that which I was unwilling to acknowledge. Cara was far from ready nor willing to receive the love that I had to give. Tanja perceived her as a survivor, barely gasping for air. After an awkward dinner, we all three walked a few doors down to a local bar called, Bill's Place, for Karaoke. Throughout the night, Tanja periodically "tried" to break the news to me; and I would not listen, holding on tightly to the addiction that Cara would break through and create the freedom to fly with me. 

     Being that Cara loves to sing, I couldn't wait to see her perform. She chose Whitney Houston's, I Will Always Love You, later telling me that she found herself glancing at me throughout the song (usually avoiding eye contact with anyone while singing). After her debut, a random man at the bar approached her. He pointed to the top of my head and said, "This girl is your biggest cheerleader." I blushed. If he only knew. Or, was I that obvious? Tanja said that I was, leaving us at the bar early, tired and DONE. 

     With my legs slightly open on the bar stool, Cara backed up and nuzzled between them. I almost gasped out loud and thought, See...She is into me. She is! I barely relaxed into it when suddenly, she seemed to catch herself and jerk away (later telling me that she had felt what seemed like an electric shock). 

     Swimming like The Little Mermaid, Cara was desiring to reach the shoreline, but not willing to swim the distance. I sensed her attraction to me and told myself that I would not be feeling this kind of connection without reciprocation. Reflecting back to the words of Whitney Houston's song (“So good-bye, Please don’t cry, We both know I’m not what you need), Cara, in her own way, was already saying "goodbye." 

I Tell Her

“Be courageous enough to be yourself, to follow God’s guidance even when it completely contradicts what the world has dictated is the RIGHT way to be.” 

April 19, 2014 (Saturday)

     This was it-the day that I would tell Cara that I was falling madly in love, take her into my arms and whisk her away into my fairy tale. God has a sense of humor, and it didn't quite go down as the most romantic scene in history. Nevertheless, I am excited to tell my version of opening the door to a new sexual adventure (and of course, it was much more than that for me). 

    Cinnamon invited us over to her home for a home cooked Italian style lunch. You know, the kind that expands in your stomach like a turkey dinner. Cinn, a world class heart facilitator, has helped assist thousands of people in relaying what needs to be said without getting into too many details. She told me that she would help me in telling Cara my secret. Thank God! We would meet at noon. 

     As apprehensive as I was to tell Cara that which I had been holding in, I was more scared not to. She would be returning to her home in the Midwest on Monday morning, and I didn't want to miss the opportunity that could change my life forever. I also wondered if the feelings were mutual. How could they not be? But, then again, Cara, was very difficult to read. 

     Many moments throughout the week, she would withdraw and seem elsewhere, becoming mysteriously quiet with a sad and angry vibe. Her eyebrows would furrow, looking more masculine with chiseled like features, wearing one of those tough guy personas. I told myself that it was a protective barrier that needed to come down, and I was just the perfect person to help her do that. She was still going through her break-up process with her now, ex boyfriend, and I could become the glorious hero of the whole messed up package (yet another lesson to be learned). 

    On the morning of our lunch date, we went to Avila Beach- another popular spot along the Central Coast of California. As we walked along the ocean, I took many deep breaths to calm my nerves. Cara found a heart shaped rock and showed it to me in the palm of her hand. I smiled and thought, Perfect. If she only knew. Or, does she? 

     We then bumped into my ex-boyfriend's best friend who happened to be a model at the time. He was my nemesis back in my late 20's, seemingly competitive with me over our surfer boy. HOW COULD THIS BE HAPPENING? I didn't want to see anyone! The day was stressful enough, never mind adding him into the mix. As Cara and I walked away, she spoke about how good looking he was...yada, yada, yada. Maybe she isn't in to me. 

NOON

     We gave Cinnamon a big hug and sat at the round high table in the breakfast nook of her two bedroom apartment. Cinnamama continued cooking, serving us appetizers, and chatting away as if it were any other day. I suppose it was for her, but for me, it was monumental. 

    She began by asking Cara a series of questions, including, her sexual preference. Without hesitation, Cara said, "I'm bisexual." I told myself that she knew that something was up, and I was creating more perspiration by the minute. The room felt like a sauna, and I could barely eat. Am I really going to go through with this? What if she doesn't have the same feelings for me? What if...What if...What if...

    I reached down into my core and knew that I would rather step through my fears and take a risk than live in the world of "Shoulda...Coulda...Woulda!" So here goes everything...

     Cinnamon gave me the perfect opening, and I knew that it was timely to finally disclose my secret. Cara turned and looked at me. With a puzzled look on her face, I said it...

   "Well, the truth is...I have romantic feelings for you." 

    Her mouth literally dropped open. I immediately created embarrassment, using my sweatshirt to cover my entire head. Retrospectively, I wanted to say that I was actually madly in love with her, but my fear told me to tone it down (you know, just in case the romantic love was unrequited). A choice I later regretted. My mentor continued talking as if I had just said, "It's a nice day, don't you think?" I gotta love that about Cinn, she simply enjoys the drama of earth school without getting caught up in it. I slowly uncovered my face and held my breath. Cara’s mouth was finally beginning to close. Obviously, in shock. Cinnamon then turned to her and said, "What did you just make that mean? Cara was silent. Cinnamon then said, "Do you have the same feelings for her?" With certainty in her voice and a huge smile, she looked at me and said...

     "Yes!" 

     BIG EXHALE. I knew it. I knew it. What a relief. I felt like I had just run through the finish line of the Nike, "Just Do It," marathon. She later admitted that her romantic feelings were buried deep inside of her, too. That she had been unwilling to claim it, or even feel it, because she had been creating fear. And the minute I said it, she knew it was true for her as well.

     For me, the rest of the lunch was a complete blur. The only words I remembered Cinnamon saying (and with conviction) were...

     "Abstain from any sexual contact until the Captain is made aware of this situation. And that means...NO kissing!" Sigh.

     Even though, my now ex and I had transformed our relationship, I still resided with him and understood completely that it would not serve the whole to be with her in that way. I later found out that Cara did not have the same understanding. After leaving my teacher's house, we immediately declared our love for one another in the car. I couldn't wait to swap stories and divulge what was going on for me. 

     I kept repeating, "You really did not know? You've been sending me love songs for months!" 

     Baffled, she continued to say..."I was completely buried in denial." 

     Later that afternoon, we had a photograph taken of us, just minutes after I cut my hair (this time, to my ears). One would have had to cover their heads with a sweatshirt (too) in order to prevent them from seeing our beaming faces in the photo. Some friends from Facebook later told me that they could even feel the electrical passion between us. As we drove home, I called Cinnamon to let her know that my hair had been cut. By the sound of my mama's frail voice, I knew something was up, but what I heard next was unbelievable...She had run over her leg with her own car! 

     Cara and I drove over there as fast as we could, receiving an unexpected surprise. With scrapes and bruises all over her leg, Cinnamon sat calmly and told us about how one goes through such an experience and can choose PEACE, regardless. We were given the opportunity to experience a woman who did not choose fear, even in that moment. to experience a human being choosing to surrender no matter what rolls her way (pun intended). She rolled with the car and observed herself from God's perspective while she went through what could have been a very scary moment. Because she did not resist the tires, her leg did not break. The doctors were astonished. This was an experience that one could not forget, even if they tried. I remember looking at Cara and saying, "Welcome to my world. Once I experienced complete surrender to God in another human being, I could never go back and think that it is impossible to choose Love in EVERY moment." With tears, Cara told me that in one week, she had never experienced so much love in her entire life. She stated that the whole state of Missouri was asleep. From that day forward, our lives were forever changed. We still did not know just how much...

Easter 

“Will power is NOT the same as willingness to be powerful.”

     We had one full day together as a couple, Easter Sunday. 

     The pitter patter of feet woke the three of us up early, and the hunt was on. The Captain and I gave our seven year old son, Krew, a basket and he was off and running, especially in search for the plastic golden egg containing twenty dollars. As if she could smell it, Cara began to sniff around for the egg hidden in the light socket of the living room. A funny memory that Krew still remembers. That afternoon, the Kaptain took our son over to his parent's house for another Easter egg hunt and dinner. Cara and I were left alone.  

     Still yet not even having held hands, the sexual tension was undeniable. Like magnets, I felt a surge of divine electricity in every cell of my body, empowering myself like never before. For the first time in my life, I did not mind the good or bad opinions of others, and my old definition of "true love" no longer existed. Our age difference, sexual orientation, and barely knowing each other, no longer mattered. I loved her unconditionally and that was more than enough. 

    Within seconds, life as we knew it, changed forever...

     We had an hour to ourselves before my Living Love Class at 3pm...

     Cara and I sat together in an oversized white chair in my bedroom overlooking the ocean. For the first time, our knees touched. I know that this could sound over-the-top, but just by the slight brush of her knee, I sent myself into another dimension. We chatted, and then I got up to show her my vision board. Approximately eight years prior, I had put together all my desires on a poster sized cardboard, including, photographs of two children. There was a picture of a twelve year old boy and a four year old girl. I was given my precious boy, but this brown-eyed girl was still a mystery to me. Who is she? I often thought. As we looked at the photograph of the little girl in her fairy-like costume, I explained to Cara how much I wanted her to be in my life. 

    She was silent. 

     Hmm...what is going on? I thought. 

     She then looked straight into my eyes, and said the inconceivable...

     "I think I might be pregnant." 

     My mouth dropped. 

     "Are you sure?" I asked. 

     While listening to Pandora, Cara told me that she had not started her period and began to explain her physical symptoms. And then, like sky rockets in flight, in came a song through the speaker of her iPhone. The very song that she had always said she would sing to her future baby... "Dream A Little Dream Of Me." 

     She immediately began to cry. We looked at each other with a deep and undeniable knowing, no pregnancy test seemed to be needed. Universal signs had been literally cheering us on for nine months, so what would make this phenomenon any different. 

     Without skipping a breath, I assured her that everything was right on schedule. The tenant would be leaving my house soon and that we would have the baby and raise HER there. I created no doubt. I didn't recognize this fearless version of myself and welcomed my open and brave heart. It felt so good to be ALIVE. I didn't even stop to consider her ex because he had become verbally and physically abusive with Cara prior to flying out to California. The baby was ours and that was that, manifested right there on my vision board. I told myself the story that there could be no other possibility. I basked in the fact that I had finally met the person of my dreams. I "thought" my void was finally filled. 

     We went to class. Cara wanted to publicly validate her love for me to Tanja and other close friends of mine. As she began to tell them how much she loved me, they sensed her fear. So could I, but I didn't want to see her hesitancy. I was a woman with a mission, stubbornly focused on what I WANTED. I told myself that my assurance and support was enough, forgetting that she needed to create her own strength from inside herself, a solid foundation that I nor anyone else could give to her. Love is not enough for someone who is unwilling to receive it. A lesson yet to be learned.

     That night, we had dinner with a Shaman at Dolphin Bay Inn, a high end resort in Shell Beach, overlooking the ocean. He had told me that our union was the divine feminine coming together in a powerful way. He seemed to be just as giddy as I was, making it all the more exciting. Cara had done a session just nine months prior to meeting Cinnamon and I. Ironically, I also had done one with him nine months prior to meeting my mentor. 

     We all sat at the table, breathing into the newness of our journey. Easter dinner was served, and we listened to the Shaman tell us about how thrilled he was for us to be together, a destiny that he had previously envisioned. He then laughed and said that I was like a panting puppy and Cara was my shock collar, keeping me centered. She looked into my eyes with a knowing smile. My heart had no doubt that his feedback about our relationship was true. I had never experienced anything like this before. Again, not to sound cliche, but I wanted to scream my love for her from the top of Mount Everest. Nothing felt TOO big to overcome. Cara mostly remained quiet throughout dinner.

    She would be taking the train the following morning to go back to Missouri, and I wanted to make every moment last. After dinner, I purchased a pregnancy test just to eliminate any doubt, and we went home.

    The Captain and Krew were asleep. 

    Even though my now ex had his suspicions, Cara and I still had not disclosed our love for one another. I planned to tell him once she was gone, doing my best to honor our live-in situation during this challenging time. 

    We put on our bathing suits and went outside to the hot tub. My mentor's words continued to reverberate through my head... 

   "NO KISSING!"

     To say that this was the hardest challenge of Cinnamon Lofton's straight forward spiritual council, would be the biggest understatement, EVER. I was like a sexually frustrated teenager ready to unleash my inner wild and FINALLY be with a woman. My intuition knew that it would NOT be serving love to touch her, but I allowed my addiction to sensation to become my dictator. Although we never kissed, we did touch. When our hands met, it felt like they were one. Indescribable. My hand felt like it literally became her hand, and it was far better than any sexual experience I had ever had. It was divine.  

     Under the dark starry sky, Cara experienced our time together NOT in the same way, later telling me that she had created anger and frustration for not being allowed to be together sexually. For me, it was a titillating experience to await God's timing. 

     One Window, Two Views. 

Our Last Day

“Everything that shows up in your life is there for you, NOT against you.” 

April 21, 2014 (Monday)

     Prior to waking, Cara had a dream of the two of us, sitting on each side of a piece of pink quartz (representing unconditional love). The Kaptain had left early that morning for a work trip, and I couldn't get in her bedroom fast enough to say good morning and see if she was indeed, pregnant. Our knowing did not fail us. We called the Shaman to tell him the good news. He didn't skip a beat, nor did he seem a bit surprised. Every detail of our synchronistic union was continually showing up in this way, so why would he be. I felt like I was in some kind of virtual reality, doing my best to breathe and stay grounded. 

     Cara packed her bags, leaving her bathing suit and some other items behind, supporting her intention to return to California. On Easter, a friend of mine had offered for her to stay at his family's home until I could get into mine. No roadblocks, just green lights paving the way...

     I drove her to the train station.

     I sat with her on the concrete and waited for the train to arrive. It felt like it was taking forever. I began to create fear. People seemed to be staring at us; and for the first time, I created homophobia. I did not hold her hand or touch her in any way. In fact, I held my breath and waited for that damn train to come. I wanted it to come. I looked at Cara and she had that furrowed brow again, but this time, I did not tap her knee to come back to me. It was awkward. 

     Little did I know that this would be the last day that I would see Cara, and that I was in for the biggest lesson of my lifetime. She flew out as fast as she flew in, leaving me with a wounded heart on so many levels. It was still far from over (after all, THREE Blood Moons were yet to be a part of our experience), and I held on tightly to the destiny that I "thought" could be ours. If only, we would stay in our hearts and continue to be open to the magical possibilities of us. I was no longer there in the physical to tap her knee, look into her eyes, and bring her back home. I chose fear and consequently threw away my chance at the train station. I chose to care about what others thought about us more than trusting Love. 

     Cara’s fears continued to bump into mine. 

     We were one hot mess melting all over our dreams.

The Peanut Gallery

“Fear is a very convincing liar.”

     Without going into too much detail, the sexting began by the time Cara arrived at the Los Angeles airport. Leave it to two romantic junkies (who had never even kissed) to create a comfortable and fun loving experience. Our awkward good-bye at the train station was long since forgotten, and we were ON! 

     In Comes The Opinion Of Everyone Who Has One

     While Cara was still in travel, she texted her cousin to tell her the "good" news. That we were both madly in love and having a baby. It never dawned on me how much this was going to be a game changer. People's influence can be earth shattering if we allow it to be. Her cousin, however religious, seemed to be open to our gay relationship, but she immediately started in with Cara as to why we “should’ NOT be together. I don't remember her reasons, but even Cara’s best friend (who happens to be a lesbian) was having an absolute conniption over it while on vacation with her wife. She even nearly canceled the trip. They didn't trust me. I get it. I was still wrapping my head around the eight magical days myself. In retrospect, how could I expect them to understand when I didn't. 

     Here's their story...Cara goes to California to get some help with her life. She meets and falls for some random and crazy blogger (who is nuts over God), gets pregnant, and "Catfished" (google it) all at the same time. End of story.

     Besides "thinking" that they were "right," it seemed that they did not have much trust in Cara’s heart. I could tell that she was beginning to buy into their fear and scare herself. UGH! This was when I first began to panic. She was no longer with me physically, and I feared the inevitable. 

     She Arrives In Saint Louis, Mo

     Her ex boyfriend (baby's daddy) then picks her up from the airport. Much like the Kaptain and I, they were still living together. I can only imagine that awkward pick up. I find out quickly that he has one objective...TO GET HER BACK. She assures me that her intention is to not return to an abuser. Well, you know what they say about "good" intentions...

     In retrospect, this is when I could have listened to my heart, trust God, and let go. But...nope, I had to do it the hard way, allowing myself to contribute to a triangle of dysfunction. After all, I wasn't going to let go of MY girl and baby. And like every romance movie that I had ever watched, I was going to do everything (including selling my soul), to get what I WANTED. 

I Tell The Kaptain

“Love works.” 

     My heart opened completely in those eight enigmatic days, and I experienced myself as whole and complete. You might have labeled me as a lesbian, "Loud and Proud." I experienced no shame, guilt, or embarrassment for falling in love with the same gender and so quickly after my marriage had transformed. Although telling The Kaptain my "good" news was far from easy, it was simple. I stood strong in my heart. There was no doubt, no fear. Just love.

     Cara left on Monday morning, and I told him the following night. Cinnamon (THANK GOD) helped facilitate all the mind boggling information that was yet to be disclosed. I will never forget my mentor walking through the door of our family's home.

     My heart began to pound. 

     The Kaptain stood by the wet bar. He looked at Cinnamon, and said... 

     "Do I need to make myself a drink?" The words he did not want to hear were about to come true. 

      She straight forwardly replied, "Yes, and I would make it a double." 

     With Cinnamon facing us, The Kaptain and I sat down (side by side) on the sofa. The same spot in which we had had many vulnerable and forthcoming conversations, including divorce just weeks prior. 

     He didn't waste any time... 

     "So, are you in love?"

     I surprised myself that he knew, but then again, I didn't. The energy between Cara and I was palpable. One would have had to be numbed out on drugs to not have noticed the inexplicable connection.  

    "Yes," I replied. 

     He took another swig of his cocktail. 

     My heart went out to him, and however difficult, I knew that we would get through this painful facet of enormous change. I began to explain the series of events, helping him to see my innocence. My hope was that he would be willing to understand that I was doing my best and to forgive me for moving so quickly since our changing form. 

     He seemed to be breathing through, and then Cinnamon let him know that there was more...

     She looked at me and I heard her thoughts...It's timely to tell him.

     He stared at me with fear in his eyes. 

    "Cara is also pregnant, and I am going to help raise the baby." 

     There...I said IT. 

     His head went back as if to say, You've got to be f***ing kidding me.  

     From that moment on, I cannot remember the details. Cinnamon began to talk, helping him see everyone's innocence involved. 

     It was what it was. 

     Telling the truth sets us free. I had nothing to hide, and I claimed all responsibility. I wished that the circumstances were different. The timing was over-the-top. Even though it could look suspicious to others, I was so grateful that the Kaptain knew that our decision had nothing to do with Cara, and did come AFTER we had decided to divorce. We had left our almost eleven year marriage serving love, and I intended for it to stay that way.

     After Cinnamon left, the Kaptain and I went outside, chatted, and looked at the stars. Although, he would MUCH rather have had me be with a man, I could feel him letting go. We were going to be just fine.  

     Now, to tell my parents...

I Tell My Parents

“So many people believe that anger can be constructive. They believe this because they think that anger is the best, if not the only, means of accessing their courage. 

Thinking gets them into trouble.

Nothing needs to give us courage. It’s something we already have in plenty. Draw on your courage. Use it to be free.”

     I felt like I was on a sacred mission, busting through worldly fears of "shoulds and should nots," not minding the judgments of others. I continued choosing Love regardless of people's good or bad opinions. I didn't feel the urgency to tell my parents about Cara or the baby, but it was at least timely to reveal that my relationship with the Kaptain had changed. Retrospectively, fearing their wrath, I wanted to give them small doses.  

     It was no secret that the Kaptain and my parents were not fans of one another, so telling them about the dissolution of our marriage was easy. They did not flinch or even seem to care (no surprise there). Universal forces seemed to continually go against my ex and I from the day we met, and we simply ignored the signposts. 

     After eating lunch and disclosing the news, I got up to do the dishes. Little did I know that our conversation was far from over. 

     My father spoke... 

     "You know, I am an open minded kind of person, and I would like to ask you something personal." 

     My heart began beating rapidly. HE KNOWS, I thought. Within seconds, I created one of those seemingly hour like conversations in my head (You know how fast the mind can be).

     I took a deep breath, stared straight into his eyes, and said...

     "What is that, dad?" 

     My mom sat there, clueless. 

     My mother often showed up as someone who lived in a protective bubble. Someone who didn't seem to feel much happiness or sadness. She would do everything to make him happy, and then passively aggressively do as she pleased. In the last few years, she had even become a Jehovah Witness, a challenge to my father's atheism which he made no bones about. 

     Without pausing, he gave it to me straight... 

     "Do you have lesbian tendencies?"

     WOW, unbelievable...he does know! In that moment, my heart soared and I opened myself genuinely...

     "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do, dad. I am madly in love with a woman."

     It felt so good to be my authentic self. 

      My mother sat there frozen, looking like she had eaten a rodent. My father took the opportunity to watch her swallow every piece. In hindsight, it was obvious that he wanted to press her face against his truth: Her daughter was a sinning bisexual, a disgrace to her church. 

     He began to laugh, a dark chuckle, blessing my union, telling me to make love and "hang from the chandelier." Ick! 

     He asked me where Cara was from. 

     "Missouri," I replied. I decided to skip the baby part of the equation. Telling them that I was divorcing and in love with a woman (whom I barely knew) was already hard enough.

     With a smirk on his face, he said: "Ahh...the 'Show Me' state." 

     The following day, I called my parents, still needy of their approval, hoping that everything was still copacetic. To my dismay, my now angry father began screaming at me for everything and anything that his mind could conjure up. He stated firmly that being with a woman did not matter to him (I would beg to differ), but that I had not taken care of "my goods" (meaning money) with The Kaptain, treating me like the biggest idiot on earth. 

     Even though my father gambled almost every day on the ponies, the fear of lack of security was his albatross. I grew up in Santa Monica, going to the horse races, collecting dirty tickets off the ground, and sometimes winning the Pick 6. To help create compassion for his fear, I imagined what it must felt like to grow up in The Depression in Ireland, caddying at a golf course to earn money for his family while his father was off on drunken binges most of the time. An immigrant's heart wrenching/success story. And that's what it is, a story. We all have them, AND it doesn't give us permission to abuse the ones who we say we love. 

     With so much judgment in his tone, he said that The Kaptain and Cara were going to take advantage of me. He even went on to say that Cara could have stolen some money from my house. What money? I thought, It's in the bank! I had yet to learn that reasoning with insanity makes you insane. 

      I could clearly see his fear and programmed definition of Love, thinking that he was protecting me. When really, his words continued to scream... I don't trust you. You are stupid. You are not enough! I had heard that tone for most of my life. Again, I believed him. 

     By taking responsibility, I came to know that I was no longer willing to fight with him. A game that I had played for most of my years that did NOT work, causing only more DIS-ease. I was finally willing to change our caustic/back and forth dynamic. So, instead of screaming and demanding for him to treat me differently, I commanded attention, claimed my power, and with confidence, said...

     "Dad, the way that you are speaking does not work for me." He knew that I meant it. I was no longer willing to be treated like a stupid woman. 

     Needless to say, the "new" me did not work for him, and he pulled out his big gun: ABANDONMENT. 

    "Well then, GOOD-BYE!" He said it, with a nasty tone. He meant it. 

     With compassion for both of us, I was finally willing to get out of his way. To take action and do the very thing that I had feared for as long as I can remember: To give him what he said he wanted. 

 
     "Ok, dad...Good-bye." 

     I had finally suffered enough. Throughout my life, my father had continually threatened abandonment if I didn't do as told. I remembered the therapist who once compared my life to having a gun to my head. At the age of forty-four, I had now learned that I actually had a choice, allowing my father to finally pull the trigger and get out of of my own way. Lesson learned, season passed, I would leave serving Love. 

     From that moment forward, I did not look at my mother and father as my true parents. They were the biological ones who helped me to become brave. I broke through their fear cycle and my programmed belief that love had to be earned. I claimed God to be my true parent who would never forsake me.

     The next time I saw my birth father, he had been diagnosed with cancer of the bladder. I drove to his house the minute I heard the news. This was AFTER his surgery. He came outside, pointing at me with his index finger and sternly exclaimed: "As long as I am alive, I do not want you to ever come in this house again, do you hear me?" 

     My birth mother stood at the porch, and began to pontificate biblical scriptures, begging for me to not act on my homosexual desires. With so much compassion, I could clearly see their fear. I took a deep breath while clearly seeing their blatant rejection, and "welcomed the opportunity to be me." I honored our differences without addictively demanding for them to accept me as is. I asked my mother to forgive me for not meeting her models. I was no longer willing to be who they wanted me to be, or in their triangle of dysfunction. I was also no longer willing to be separate from them, either. I had "tried" THAT for years, and it did nothing but aggravate my liver. My mother looked at me like I was on crack. The light is sometimes too bright for people who refuse to remember who they really are. Our gift to them is to remember for them when they are forgetting. 

     My biological parents have been two of my greatest teachers, helping me to return to Love. How could I experience unconditional love if I hadn't experienced the opposite? As painful as it all was, I loved them, regardless. 

     This may sound easy. It wasn't. It was downright excruciatingly painful. I just knew that surrendering to God was the only way I was going to create any peace with my life's contract in the storm of this world's insanity. 

Our Balloon Pops

     "Does this sound insane? If it does, that's okay. Great love is the most exquisite kind of madness, an asylum of delight. Enter its gates and divinity rises into view.

Like all synchronistic delights, it's only madness until it happens to you." 

-Jeff Brown

     The relationship with Cara was out in the open. It wasn't easy to tell the Kaptain and my parents, but it was worth what ever it took. I had met the connection of my dreams, and I wasn't going to let anything or anyone get in our way. Cara told her boyfriend, and it would be just a matter of time before she'd be moving to California. Our minds can make life seem ridiculously easy when we choose to live in La La Land. 

     As the weeks progressed, we continued romancing via texting. It wasn't ideal, but the anticipation continued to keep the wait that much more exciting. My body had never felt more alive. Although every part of me seemed to have a mind of its own, I cherished the awakening and went with it, fully. 

     Every move Cara made seemed to be the elixir for my soul. We changed the password on our phone to the date that we had first met, 4-14-14 and daydreamed about where our first kiss would take place. She then sent me the song, I Knew I Loved You, relaying to me that ever since eighth grade she had known that the Savage Garden's song was to be dedicated to "The One," and I was it. Snuggling my pillow, I played the video repeatedly. I had found the panacea to my romance starved mind, and I held on tightly. Retrospectively, too tightly.

     Around this time, Cinnamon began to remind me of the grim reality. Serving love is not always what people want to hear, and my mentor loved me enough to point out the stark and poignant truth...Cara was NOT moving forth. She still had not informed her father about us nor had a plane ticket been purchased. 

TWO WEEKS LATER

In just a five-minute phone call, my world went black.

    "I have decided to stay with him," she said. 

Her voice was monotone and dead. I perceived her as cold, feelingless. Was I being dumped?!? Nooo...it couldn't be so. She acted as if our connection meant nothing to her, and even worse, as though our union was too over-the-top "woo, woo" to be real. 

     I wanted to scream, "You don't just walk away from this kind of experience. It's a chance of a lifetime.”

     Her silence replied, Watch me.

     I had nothing much to say except... "I knew it." 

     A light switch had been turned off, and I had no control to turn it back on. I no longer had physical access to tap her knee or to help her come back to me via eye-to eye contact. I no longer recognized her as the soul-searching spiritualist whom I had come to know, convincing myself that he must be controlling her, holding her captive. After all, it was conveyed that he could not be trusted. She surely doesn't' want to go back and be his "blow up doll?!?" Or, does she? My mind was fully engaged.

     Being so far away, I "felt" hopeless, forgetting that Love endures all emotions. I told myself the story that it could not be possible for Cara to deny our nine months of alchemy, and he must be doing something for her to act so differently. And, what about the BABY? I was willing to have her baby! If that doesn't count for something, I don't know what does. Luna Rose, was to be her name. The Lunar Eclipse baby was due to be born on Christmas day. We had found out about the pregnancy on Easter Sunday, and now the baby was to be born on Jesus's birthday?!? 

    I have been told that people would not believe in this story even if it were fiction. As I write, I almost can't believe it myself. What I do know is that I had received the proof that God existed, no longer relying on faith alone. The Universe was obviously "trying" to teach me something; but, what? My addiction to understanding our "parting of the clouds" union (pardon for the cliche) consumed me. My ego was devastated. My balloon had popped. 

“Friends"

“You want a trustworthy relationship? 

Then you’ve got to put all your trust into it.

All of it? 

100%!!”

     Throughout the months after our breakup, Cara and I had decided to become "friends," only. To honor our whirlwind romance, she sent me numerous Katy Perry songs, like...The One That Got Away, Double Rainbow, and Unconditionally. Total torture! I was doing my best to accept the "what is," encouraging her to follow her heart, even if that meant to not be with me romantically. She was in a relationship with someone whom I "thought" could physically harm her, my stomach often churned at the vision. I continued to take any scraps that she threw my way, a childhood habit which I had created for my father's approval. You know, the "He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not" game. Since my father had played that roll to perfection, God knew that my ego would have NEVER allowed a MAN to treat me with such blatant dismissal. Sooo... let's bring in a woman (as if there was a difference) to teach me the biggest lesson of my life.... How to love myself, unconditionally. Falling in love with a woman and NOT letting go was a perfect opportunity for me to learn to be willing to honor the God in me. I created the "illusion" that a woman would never be so hot and cold. Never be like a man. What a lesson. 

     I have also come to know that the magical serendipities had to be there in order for me to "think" that choosing her over taking care of my own wounded heart was romantically heroic. The stars say it's so, and it is so, was my motto. I had grown up in a war-zone between my parents, which had left me clueless about what it is to have a healthy, peaceful relationship. It was timely to learn my earth school lesson: "We Can Only Give What We've Got." 

     To avoid looking at my own issues, I focused on her problems and where SHE needed to grow. I didn't want to abandon her as I had been, blatantly by my father and energetically by my mother (not recognizing that I had utterly abandoned myself). I told myself that Cara needed help, and the Universe picked me to be the "special" one. Retrospectively, she did need assistance, and I "needed" to feel validated for rescuing her. Evidence of my hero complex. Although, I had been in teacher training and blogging for years, I was still unwilling to fully claim that everyone is uniquely special.

     I was afraid of being alone, culturally programmed to believe that I needed a man financially and otherwise. I didn't want to face the fact that I no longer had a father or a husband to take care of me. I had forgotten to trust God, the one who will never forsake me. Instead of pulling up Love’s limitless wisdom, my focus was on HER. I continued to feed the drama.

     On May FOURTH at FOUR in the morning, she miscarried.  I continued to wonder, What do all these fours mean? Secretly hoping that the angels were telling her that we were meant for each other. Cara texted ME just minutes prior to losing Luna Rose. Her boyfriend was not around. I closed my eyes and imagined myself breathing air in and through them, sending so much energetic support. I yearned to be there, to hold and comfort her. For I was also grieving the loss of the dream. Maybe now, she would leave him, I thought. To my surprise, and I would say, "horror," she did not. 

     Our “so-called” friendship started to flourish within weeks after the miscarriage. Our texts became more frequent, and we talked about varying topics ranging from spirituality to sharing our parallels with the popular lesbian TV show, The L Word. I was still willing to take any bone Cara threw my way. I justified my tolerance for our "friends only" status with sexual innuendos by telling myself that she was too scared to love me romantically, and that her boyfriend was the easier decision. I told myself that deep down, I was the one whom she truly desired. I assured myself that she will claim US soon, and I would wait. Cinnamon guided me to let go and move on. Well, as the old saying goes," You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make them drink." I needed to learn this one on my own. 

     Meanwhile, I created the courage to get on Match.com for lesbians. I was willing to do anything to fool myself into "thinking" that I was, indeed, moving on. While the Kaptain was upstairs, checking out his new prospects on the dating website, I was downstairs, scoping out the same gender. As dysfunctional as it could seem, it was what it was. I remember saying, "Check this surfer girl out." What a comedy. 

     During this time, Cara and I became closer, telling her boyfriend that she was in love with me, too. Yes! I knew I was right! Many of her friends continued to harp on her, telling her that she was not a lesbian and that she loves men too much to ever be fully committed to a woman. It became obvious that homophobia was still a fear that she was unwilling to let go of, AND I was still a secret from her father. She had never been in a real relationship with a woman and continued to confuse herself. Could she love two people simultaneously? Is that even possible? 

     All I cared about was the synchronistic connection, and I loved every wild adrenalin filled minute. Until I didn't. It was a toxic love triangle, and I allowed myself to be ALL IN. Once she created too much pressure bouncing back and forth between him and I, she said, "We need to detox." Our second breakup, this time on my phone's voicemail. And I (again), allowed myself to be at the whim of her decisions-not God's. 

    As much as I hate to admit it, every time Cara told me that we needed to "detox," I felt a major sense of relief. I wanted to go back to the person I was being on those eight magical days of our union, catapulting myself back to experiencing genderlessness and freedom. It was a high like I had never experienced before; but the reality of "us" and who we were being in the world, was no longer working. I had become attached and needy. Addicted. Intellectually, I knew that we were worlds apart, but I also felt like my limbs had been ripped from half of my body. There was a part of me who absolutely hated her; when truthfully, I hated having humiliated myself for loving someone without reciprocation. The only choice I gave myself was to move on, and I would do everything to just make her, my story, and the whole mysterious bond GO AWAY. Good luck to me. 

     The harder I pushed against "thinking" about her, the more the reminders appeared. There wasn't a day, where I wouldn't see our numbers...444. Bluebirds would fly out at me from nowhere, and the closest cafe would just happen to be offering a "Bluebird" sandwich for its lunch special. Random people (in California) would walk by wearing Saint Louis Cardinals T-shirts, and I would continue my self destructive course.

     Our detox lasted a week (or maybe two) before we contacted each other. The addictive pull was too strong for my mind to manage, my heart was no longer leading the way. Instead of choosing God, I made the decision to settle for crumbs yet again. 

     Maybe this time she will see that we are meant for each another... Maybe. 

Signs 

"To continually ask "WHY?" is to constantly resist taking full responsibility for what you're creating in your life. ("Why me?" "Why now?" "Why...?" Why...?")

Replace the word 'WHY' with 'YES.' There's power in yes. Yes says, "'I see. I can deal with this 'what-is.'" Yes!!

Instead of Why...say Wow!!

Instead of Why...say Oh!!

Instead of Why...say THANK YOU!!"

     Signs are those magical and unexplainable gifts in our life that are here for us. Some may say that they are here to point us in the right direction (whatever that means). In an attempt to make sense of strange phenomenons, I have projected my familiar stories of security, sensation, and power onto them. I wanted to understand that which at times is not to be understood to the point of making myself sick. Why, God, WHY!?!

    So, my friends, I jumped off a cliff, abandoned my heart, and created obsession about a destiny with Cara that I "thought" SHOULD go MY way. I know that now. I made the decision to wait for the romantic relationship to happen. After all, almost every sign and intuitive said that we were destined to come together. But, I had forgotten Love's truth...NOTHING is set in stone. Although, clairvoyants have incredible insight, there is no "for sure" future. The past is dead, and the time is always NOW. 

     I had become the hamster on the wheel of fear. I justified my stories around signs by fitting them into my addictive, romantic programming. Forget about addictions to food and booze, I NEEDED ROMANCE. I strengthened my hold by watching the movie, "Serendipity," with John Cusack. Seee, my mind would say. You are RIGHT. I then fooled myself into "thinking" that this romantic relationship was my destiny, and that I was going to move heaven and earth and wait for it to happen. Ha! I did move earth, leaving me flat on my face with nothing but mud and splinters. Tweezers please. 

"If you are waiting for something to happen, forget about it. Nothing will. Life is a creation. It doesn't just happen."

     I have now made up a new meaning from the multitude of signs given to me as opportunities to choose Love. They were and are here to have fun with. To let go of all expectations and simply be with the "what is” without attachment. Instead of forcing signs to meet OUR models, we can simply relax and allow them to unfold naturally. By gently placing our intimate desires in the palms of our hands and letting go, we allow the Universe to do its magic. 

     We can choose to be free with or without a sign. 

A Perfect Storm 

"Don't wallow around in the dirt, saying, 'I fell down! I fell down!' Get up! Just look at getting up. That is all that matters."

     While maintaining our "friendship," Cara finally left her boyfriend and moved out of his house. We were both "trying" to resist the romantic innuendos, flirting, and ALL DAY texting, but the "what is" became obvious...We were unwilling to stay away from each other. It "felt" like destiny, but was it? Unwilling to continue our rapport in this unspoken way, I made the decision to act and give an ultimatum. 

     "I have created enough suffering with our "only friends " status, and it no longer works for me." 

     Silence. 

     At this point, I was losing weight and couldn't sleep. (Cara was quite a distraction from the fact that my eleven-year-marriage was over.) Although I knew that there was no worldly logic to my soul connection to her, I was unwilling to be just friends.

     "So..." I continued. "Would you like to go for it long distance?"

      We hung up.

     Within minutes, she sent me a text, holding a flower, and said..."YES!" What a relief. We made the decision to reenter our romance, this time with more awareness, this time we "thought" we had it under control. 

     In the following month after our commitment, we went in and out of our hearts. It was a partnership that made no common sense. When she was in, it was HOT! She wrote, "I Love Kathleen" on her bathroom mirror and a very foretelling poem that came to her while taking a shower. I have since ripped it up, but it had to do with the "Perfect Storm," ending with something about her appreciation for the fact that we were finally together here, now. I remember feeling her words deeply and the intensity of the love she had created for me. I also remember clinging to the fear that we wouldn't last...Forget about "here, now," what about our FUTURE? What does she mean..."Perfect Storm?!?" When she was out, I felt as if I had been hurled away into a swampy gutter. Left. Abandoned. Very similar to the feelings that I had experienced when my father would give me the silent treatment for spending too much time with anyone but him. 

     For much needed assistance in our newborn relationship, Cara and I began three way calling the intuitive guide we had seen at Paradise Found in Santa Barbara. I was disappointed because Cara was reluctant to use Cinnamon's guidance even though she had my mentor's fourth pathway tattooed on her forearm..."The Light Of Love Is Always Stronger Than The Darkness Of Fear."

     Much like us, the clairvoyant seemed to be confused about our relationship. She did her best, advising us to nurture it like a baby and to not listen to outside influences. It was a delicate partnership that needed at least one of us to choose unconditional love, continually. Although I agreed with her advice, I continued to walk on egg shells. I was simply too addicted to follow my heart and allow the relationship to unfold, naturally. I wanted to be in control of getting what I wanted. Cara simply needed to move in with me and we'd "live happily ever after." Right!

     On my own, there were a few times that I called the intuitive to gain any tidbits of information to assist me in my quest.  Unfortunately, she told me what I did NOT want to hear...

     "Many people who live in the Midwest have a difficult time breaking free and moving, especially to California. It being a very sunny and open state, makes it all the more difficult. I gripped onto the relationship even more. At this point, I was waking up to the fact that I was creating massive amounts of fear. In desperation, I pleaded with Cinnamon...

     "I know that I'm in trouble, Cinn. You are the only one whom I can trust, please don't let me fall..." I had forgotten that with Love there is never a need to plead; and that by choosing Love, I was the ONLY one who could get myself back up. 

     In our last few weeks together, Cara finally began to open up. I had never experienced her more beautiful. She created the courage to tell a family member (but, not her father) about "us," and I booked a plane ticket to her hometown of Saint Louis. We set aside seven whole days for she and I to finally connect, fantasizing about where our first kiss would take place. I even claimed my inner Romeo (Or, was it Juliet?) and sent her pink Peonies to her work with a love note which read... "I Love You More, Athena." We had nicknamed our hearts Athena and Aphrodite, labeling ourselves as “Twin Flames.” I know, I know, it could seem cheesy. It wasn't. Romantic love has a way of repeating itself, cliches become songs, and words become everything. Our intention was to love our own inner Goddess, so that we could love each other fully and experience true love. Well, that was at least my hope.  When she received her favorite flowers, she left me a voicemail...
    

     "I love you, I love you, I love you!"

     The anticipation and build-up to meeting in Saint Louis was an aphrodisiac like no other. I felt like a boy hitting puberty. I really did not know how to contain my sexual urges and fantasies that I had been holding in since forever. I was finally going to be with a woman; but more that that, the cosmic connection and missing piece that I had longed for since I was a child had finally been found. All my challenges up to this point made sense, she was worth everything I had to go through. I longed to be in her arms, to be kissed, held, validated. Fortunately, The Kaptain had been dating someone, which made everything that much easier. 

    As the days to our randevu drew nearer, Cara dedicated the song, "I Knew I Loved You," by Savage Garden; and also, had a friend video her from a Karaoke bar, singing to me "One and Only," by the singer-songwriter, Adele. Afterwards, her friend said to her, "I have never seen you happier." My dream was coming true. I was "right," she loved me just like I loved her. I had wanted her compliance for so long, and I was finally receiving it. 

     So, why wasn't I creating total peace? 

     All the romantic gestures were so heartfelt and touching. So much so that I created bewilderment, and mistrusted the phenomenon. Retrospectively, I was unwilling to receive her love and ran emotionally. Our relationship was intense, something that I had never recognized in this lifetime. It was more intimate than I knew what to do with and definitely not as simple as being with a man. Could this all be too good to be true? After all, we had only been in physical proximity for one week. I panicked...What if she is not my "One And Only"? What if I am way too old, and she will dump me just like my father said? What if we are incompatible? WHAT IF?!? I.F. (Imagined Future) will kill the present moment every time. I started to freak out, looking for things that she needed to change in order for us to be together. She often seemed to lose her words when speaking to me, and I didn't understand. I was no longer loving her, unconditionally. What makes common sense does not often make spiritual sense, and I created massive amounts of confusion. One night, I withdrew and didn't answer her phone calls. This resulted in her having a meltdown in front of her girlfriends. People who definitely did not understand our relationship nor advocate it.  

     From that moment on, our fears began to collide. I supposedly was the one to be spiritually steadfast and stable, and I had become anything but. Our once intimate relationship had now become awkward. Seemingly agitated, she retracted by not responding as quickly to my texts or not at all. I was desperate for her to not cut me off like she had done twice before. I apologized profusely, but it didn't seem to make any impact. Her words became razor sharp, creating separateness.

    "We are "F***ing ourselves with this 'Twin Flame' label!" She said with a menacing tone, even though we still did not know what the term actually meant. 

     I tearfully replied, "I feel like you are punishing me for my ONE mistake. I chose fear, and I'm sorry. Do I really need to choose love a hundred percent of the time in order for you to give me your trust?"

    She muttered back, "I am sorry. I was just thinking about that myself."

    I couldn’t help but think, Cara was from the "Show Me" state. 

The Bridge Of San Luis Obispo County

“You can’t be in two places at the same time. You cannot be in love and fear simultaneously.” 

    It was a hot and cold, cat and mouse, type of relationship with Cara. My teachings, pathways, and spiritual discipline were just words at this point. Blah...Blah...Blah. I created isolation and denial. I got off Facebook, stopped writing, and put all my energy into my "neediness" for the girl whom I had never even kissed. All I wanted was her, us, and the destiny to which I was addicted. I "thought" that I could control our doubts and fix everything. Too stubborn to back down, my mind continued to "think" that the serendipities equated to romance. At some level, I knew that I was addicted, but I didn't care. I ached for the unconditional love that I had felt in those past eight life changing days. I had walked through the gates of heaven on earth, full of limitless possibilities, willfully refusing to give up. I "thought" she was the ONLY one who could give me that feeling, the ONLY one who could “complete” me. I had convinced myself that she had the keys to the gate, and I couldn't live without her. What a Godless place to be. I wish this "feeling" upon no one. Thank you, God, that feelings are only temporary, and that “Love endures all things and is forever.”  

     We are inundated and conditioned with a "you complete me" program on how our relationships are supposed to be through the television, movies, social media, you name it. No one or anything completes us. Not our romantic partner, child, friend, parent, or even profession. We are the ONLY ones who can truly do that. 

     Tanja created great concern with my dysfunction in the world... 

    "What about your writing? Your Love mission?" 

     I didn't want to hear it. 

     Throwing away my passions, I put my dreams on hold. This is not an easy thing to admit (especially since I had been teaching classes and writing about Love all over the internet), but I had created obsession. In those soul starving days, I wasn't willing to see the truth of my attachment to the person whom I “thought” of as my only conduit to sacred ecstasy. I was only willing to see through my narrow vision of fear. My lack. All the while, abandoning the very thing that I ached for...True Love. 

     In a desperate attempt to hold onto Cara, I did everything that I "thought" she would want from me. My lowest moment occurred on an inconspicuous bridge in San Luis Obispo County. Throughout our time together, we would equate our romance to the movie, The Bridges Of Madison County, with Meryl Streep and Clint Eastwood. After watching it, Cara cried to me and apologized for her hot and cold behavior. It’s a story about an indescribable union that had manifested in minutes but lasted a lifetime. It had been one of my favorites in my mid twenties, a heart wrenching film which had me bawling all the way home to my bathroom floor where I continued to hysterically cry for another thirty minutes. 

     They should have been together! Why didn't she get out of the car, God, WHY?!? 

     Talk about a drama queen. My boyfriend thought I was crazy. So did I. Why was I this affected? After all, it was only a movie. The questions relentlessly continued through every sob and sniff, treating it as if it were a true story. Little did I know that I was having what they call "precognition." 

      In the few months of our courtship, I had gone to this sacred bridge in the city of Arroyo Grande and video my love song to her. Even though she was two thousand miles away, it felt like our spot. Before I knew it, I would be literally getting down on my knees with an iPhone to record myself presenting her with yellow lilies. The same flowers in the movie, Imagine Me And You, symbolizing "I dare you to love me." Cara related so much to the romantic movie and had wanted me to see it months prior. It was about two women who fell in love, but one had just gotten married to a man. Unlike The Bridges Of Madison County, the couple ended up staying together. 

Knowing that the movie meant a lot to her, I looked around (hoping that no one was going to walk by), bent down on the old bridge (displaying just the right amount of cleavage) and asked her the biggest question of my life... 

     "Will you dare to love me?" 

     I sent Cara the video as quickly as I could. It took her five minutes to text back. It felt like decades. 

    "You are the one of most romantic people I have ever known," she said.

    Okkk... but, what is your answer?!? I thought.

     She then said that she had sent me an email of a poem the same time that I had been videoing my proposal. No surprise there, always seeming to have one synchronicity after another. I couldn't get to my mail fast enough. It was about the snow and the sun. I have since ripped this poem up, too, but it was something about how great the sun feels...but why can't she keep a little cold snow in her pocket? I interpreted that to mean her unwillingness to dedicate herself completely to love.  

     Creating total addiction, I trepidatiously texted her back, asking her AGAIN.

     "Will You Dare To Love Me?"

     She quickly replied, "Yes." And, nothing more (uh, oh).

     As much as I wanted her answer to be true, I knew better. About four hours later in mid July, 2014, our relationship ended for the third time. She called me right before class. I had been teaching a twelve week Living Love Pathway Class and needed to be on time, "Can I call you later?" I asked. "Yes," she replied. We said that we missed each other and hung up. 

     After class, I found a text message on my phone. Cara was no longer willing to be my partner (no surprise there). It said something like this... "I am short circuiting. I want to get rid of all labels. I will make contact, but I don't know when. Please forgive me."

    Like the second time, I was relieved. I let out a huge breath. I had allowed the whole relationship to take over my entire existence, and I knew that it was not working for either one of us. I texted her back, assuring her that there was nothing to forgive. That it was all apart of the divine plan. 

    As excruciating as it was to face the truth, I was finally willing to claim that I had allowed myself to become addicted to Cara, the signs, and our "Twin Flame" union. I was no longer choosing love, paranoid that she would bolt. My fear had finally come true. I needed to be my talk and get back up and walk it... 

     Four months later, I changed my name from Kathleen to Francesca, a variation of my middle name. I literally fell to my knees on the day of my announcement on Facebook... 

     A friend commented, "Francesca has been one of my favorite names ever since I saw THE BRIDGES OF MADISON COUNTY. I had NO idea that Meryl Streep's character name in "our" movie was now...MINE. 

Reclamation Of Power

“The difference between thriving and surviving is found in the breath.

Breathe NOW.”

     All Cara needed to do was breathe in those first eight days. Can you imagine? No pros/cons list, no "let me meet your family first," no age/gender/location issues. It was magic, as if the whole Universe had conspired for us to be together. I have read that I experienced a "Kundalini Awakening," or purification process producing high levels of energy, said to be a mystical experience. Sounds right to me. 

     I was willing to see myself as generous of spirit, seeing her innocence despite everything that went against my societal programming. It wasn't similar to infatuation, I had had plenty of those adrenal pumping days to decipher the difference. I never knew that  oneness truly existed, never mind creating it. I was FINALLY free, and I was me. When we were in our hearts, our relationship was like fireworks, lighting up the sky. Our connection went beyond reason and time. And scared the sh** out of both of us. 

     When she chose to dramatically vanish out of my life, not just once after Easter, but twice after our long distance relationship, I no longer recognized myself. I had no idea of just how IN IT I was, sending me into the hell of Love addiction. An obsession that I did not "think" I could get out of nor wanted to. My eyes fell asleep to her, woke up to her, and almost every moment in-between. Addiction is crazy in that way and a hit of the "you-complete-me" drug felt so good. 

     I had stopped writing and my creative juices were withering. I created the experience of rejection, abandonment, and unworthiness, barely making it to my weekly "Living Love" class. A part of me felt like I would never be whole again. Tanja no longer recognized me, asking, "Where did my best friend go?" I would shake my head and mutter, "You just don't get it." 

    Cinnamon continued to patiently work with me, keeping it MORE-THAN-REAL. I have no doubt that without accepting her spiritual counsel, I would have developed post traumatic stress disorder. Maybe, I did. By far, it was the hardest lesson of my life. A true test of faith that God had another plan for me. But, what was it? If only, I would be willing to choose to surrender to the whims of my "I want what I want" ego and accept what I need for my spiritual growth. Instead, I chose to take any and all Instagram scraps from her, waiting for her to wake up and come back to me. 

    Prior to our third break-up, we had planned on meeting again in Saint Louis. I counted on her to fully remember what it was like to be in each others presence again. When she broke up with me after class, she did not mention anything about our planned trip. Did she forget? Did she even care? The plane ticket had already been purchased! I wasn't going to go without her...or, was I? 

     Life has a funny way of showing us what it is really like to live in the present moment. I pulled up my spiritual big girl pants and thought, Why would I allow her to stop my plans? I pierced my lips together and nodded my head twice, Thatta girl, reclaim your power!

     I emailed Cara two weeks after her text. After all, she did say that she would contact me. Glutton for punishment, I wanted to make sure that our trip was truly off (duh, yet another desperate and addictive move). She texted me back, mentioning how it would have been WAY too intense for us to see each other again and that she had been creating happiness with her roommates. She never mentioned our planned rendezvous, seeming to have forgotten all about it.  Ouch. With that, I threw the cell phone down and decided not to reply. Little did I know that she had already been dating a man. Double ouch! Well, at least I had my answer...Move over Judy Garland, I was about to Meet ME In Saint Louis.

                                      

                                    

You Can Never Be Alone- Saint Louis

“Inaction breeds doubt and fear. Action breeds confidence and courage. If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy.”

-Dale Carnegie

     Knowing that I was not going to meet Cara in Saint Louis, my fears of traveling and being "alone" surfaced. I had always "thought" of myself as the independent type. Illusions are many. I wasn't even one to go out to lunch by myself, never mind spending an entire week alone in a state far from home. I felt like I was traveling to Russia with no husband, father, or MAN to ward off the imaginary boogie man. 

   
     It would be just me and “The Power Of NOW” by Eckhart Tolle. It’s an oldie, and I saved myself in those lonely moments with the power of presence and non-resistance to a heart wounded on so many levels.

     “When there is no way out, there is still always a way through. So don’t turn away from the pain. Face it. Feel it fully. Feel it-don’t think about it. Since it is impossible to get away from the feeling, the only possibility of change is to move into it; otherwise, nothing will shift. Keep putting your attention on the pain, keep feeling the grief, the fear, the dread, the loneliness, whatever it is. Stay alert, stay present-present with your whole Being, with every cell of your body. As you do so, you are bringing a light into this darkness. This is the flame of your consciousness. At this stage, you don’t need to be concerned with surrender anymore. It has happened already. How? Full attention is full acceptance, is surrender. The acceptance of suffering is a journey into death. Facing deep pain, allowing it to be, taking your attention into it, is to enter death consciously. When you have died this death, you realized that there is no death-and there is nothing to fear. Only the ego dies.”  

Saint Louis- July, 2014 

     Driving away from the Saint Louis airport into a destination unknown, I was immediately warned by a cab driver to proceed with caution. 

     He said, "What is a girl like you doing here right now?" 

    Little did I know that I had entered a war zone, just two days after eighteen-year-old Michael Brown had been shot and killed by a police officer in Ferguson, Missouri. 

     He rambled..."You are not safe here, and your naiveté can really get you into trouble."  

     Did I mention that I hadn't even reached my hotel yet? This was just the beginning...

     I checked into my room, and decided to walk to my first tourist destination, the Gateway Arch. While walking, I put my earbuds in and listened to Closer To Fine by The Indigo Girls. It became my theme song for the trip, helping me through many painful "poor me" moments. Before I could buy a ticket for a ride up to the top of the 630 foot monument, I was greeted by a...FLASHER!  Saint Louis was anything but boring, and the cabbie's words continued to reverberate through my head...you are NOT safe here. Needless to say, my blood was pumping and there was no turning back. 

    The next morning, I received a life-altering phone call from the Kaptain. My application for a rental back in California had been accepted. (A few months prior, my ex and I had taken our son fishing on a lake right by the rental. I remember saying, "I would love to live there, wouldn't you? Of course, never expecting that I would serendipitously soon be the new lessee. At this point, we thought that I would be moving into a home, purchased for me by my father. Later, being informed that I could not move in because my tenant, who happened to be a real estate lawyer, refused to move out due to a confusing lease. I needed to find a rental and fast).

So, here I am...doing my best to breathe through all that being in Saint Louis entailed (including the awkward possibility of bumping into Cara), and now this? Reality was setting in. After my trip, I would be going home, packing up my life, and moving on. One may "think" that I would be ecstatic to hear that I got the three bedroom home with hardwood floors facing the lake. After all, it was precognition and the ONLY place that I could find that accepted dogs. SO much for what one might think. 

     This is it...I am finally moving out of "our" family home! I started to feel myself clutching and grasping onto everything but The Kaptain's leg hairs...the house, our retirement, my "Mrs." label and identity. I felt as if I had NO choice but to "feel" absolutely desperate.

At this point, The Power Of NOW and The Indigo Girls, became my best friends. Looking at the dead past or imagined future was not the place I needed to be, nor helpful. I had six more days in Saint Louis, and I was NOT going to allow myself to ruin the trip by wallowing in the mud. So, I chose to wipe the dust off my hat and felt the sweet and excruciating pain of surrender. 

                                                

Meeting Me In Saint Louis   

"We’re not friends, we are strangers with memories.” 

-Unknown

      By the middle of my trip to Saint Louis, I began replacing the victim proverbial phrase of "Why, God?" with the conscious affirmation of, "Thank You That I Am An Instrument Of Your Love." From that moment forward, every minute became one adventure after another. 

     One of my favorite places and the oldest neighborhood in the city was a place called, Soulard. It was visually stimulating, but telling my "mysterious bond" story to two strangers on a picnic bench outside of a smokehouse called Bogarts was hilarious. One was a traveling salesman on his way to Chicago, and the other was the cook himself. Eyebrows were definitely raised after asking me why in the heck a California hippie-esque chick like me was "alone" in Saint Louis... 

     "So, why are you here? Why Saint Louis? The cook asked. 

     So far, these questions were asked of me daily. I would think, Why NOT Saint Louis? 

     I would give my stock answer, "I am mending a wounded heart."

     Their eyes registered curiosity every time.  

     FYI...if you EVER want some love (and attention) from complete strangers, tell them that you were dumped. People adore a tragic love story, and the bonding that can be created feels incredible and very healing. Like all the others, they ASSUMED that I was speaking about a man. This time I made the decision to tell them about Cara, teaching me (yet again) to never assume that all people are heterosexual. We all three shared a great laugh, learning to not take life so seriously.

     One of the greatest highlights was my day in Ferguson, the city where Michael Brown had just been shot by a policeman. The night before, I was treated to dinner at a restaurant called Blueberry Hill. The late rock'n'roll icon, Chuck Berry, used to perform there every third Wednesday. At the bar, I had met the hospitable couple who took a liking to me and respected the way I choose to see the world. The girlfriend had been asked to go to the home of Tim Fitch, the recently retired chief of police who lived just outside of Ferguson where the riots were taking place. Her boyfriend was scared and didn’t want to take her. She had a mutual friend of the chief who had asked her to deliver flowers and wine to the chief’s family who were in fear due to the riots. 

       My heart leaped "YES!" but then doubted myself and called Cinnamon...  

      "Am I really supposed to go into this right versus wrong madness?" 

       "No better place to be, " she replied. 

     The following day, her boyfriend decided to go with us. In addition to wine and flowers, I gave the chief’s wife a Rumi Poem. Clearly, I was meant to do more things with my time than long for my romance with Cara.

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.”

-Rumi

      When we parted ways, my new friends gifted me with a bracelet, a silver cross strewed with fresh water pearls. We never saw each other again, but the experience of that day with them will be forever imprinted in my heart. Never underestimate the bonds that can be made with “strangers,” or as I have come to see it, awakening beings. 

     By the end of the trip, I knew the city better than my own. As people told me about their stories of grief and trouble, I became a supportive listener. I realized that I didn't need to say much (that's a first). Just BEING PRESENT to their pain was enough. 

   My last night was spent at a Katy Perry concert at the Scottrade Center, singing and dancing with God (and a tween sitting next to me) to all the songs that Cara dedicated to me just a few short months prior. What were the chances that the artist would be in Saint Louis on the SAME week? That Prism album can still give me the shivers.

         To say that I conquered my fears of being alone is an understatement. I finally welcomed the fact that we are never truly alone; and when our Christ Consciousness is claimed, we leave a place better than we found it. When I had purchased the plane ticket a few months prior, little did I know that I would NOT be meeting Cara in Saint Louis- I would be meeting my truest self, instead.

     On my way home back to Cali, I looked up from my airplane seat and met eyes with an ex boyfriend, “The Artist.” It didn't surprise me. Catching my flight connection in Phoenix, he was coming back from some work outage and seemed exhausted. I excited myself to see if there was anything left between us. As we chatted, it was a perfect opportunity for me to see that the only moment that is real is the here and now. “By The Grace Of God,” I was on my way to Finding Francesca.

Moving   

“Spiritually speaking, we are all nesters, wanting to nestle in and experience love.”

    When I arrived back home from Saint Louis, I took many deep breaths and started the moving process...  

     The last night with the Kaptain and Krew was spent packing and dancing in the middle of the living room, honoring our family changing form. No more needed to be said. As tears fell down my cheeks, the Kaptain and I were following our hearts. Not always easy, AND the only way to really LIVE. Krew made us three Rainbow Loom Hearts (woven, colorful rubber bands) which he gave to us on moving day. There was no need to suffer. We moved through the pain by grieving, comforting, and even laughing as we prepared ourselves for our new chapter. 

     After having lived in a more opulent way, I moved to an old rental in San Luis Obispo. To the surprise of many, the transition couldn’t have been more perfect. I didn’t say “easy.” This humble abode by the lake was just what the doctor ordered. I called it “Our Sanctuary” to my seven-year-old. It was our quaint space with maple hardwood floors, white cabinets, and white appliances, including a refrigerator adorned with Krew’s art. Who needs stainless steel appliances, anyway? Our sanctuary was to be treated as such, keeping it clean and clutter free. A quieter, more simple, vacation-like home that says, “Welcome.”

     I have imagined my living space like this for as long as I can remember, even as I continued to collect and hoard in each home I lived in. With each push of a closet door or slam of one-too-many junk drawers, I experienced just another added weight of responsibility, never mind wondering what was growing underneath my bed. But, if you came to visit? One would not have a clue. Much like my outer appearance, the home did not reflect the anxiety I was continually creating on the inside. As long as I looked as though I had it together, I tricked myself into “thinking” that I did. We hear the trite saying, “It’s an inside job,” and how often do we actually do what it takes to go through the pains of growing up? Our bones ache; and yet, we are taught to protect our hearts with barriers of steel. We stop feeling. We “think” we are tough, as we puff out our chests, shaking our fists, saying, “Don’t F**k with me!” Saying this energetically (or out loud) is proving how fearful we really are. Although our egos convince us otherwise, we are playing small. If we are claiming our strength, we don’t need to appear strong.

     So I built my nest from the inside out.

     About a month later, Cara texted me. WHAT?!? Did she know that I was in Saint Louis? Nope. She just wanted to let me know that she had flown into California for a once in a lifetime and rare work trip. I created so much anger. I thought, So what? What am I supposed to do with THAT!?! I don't remember my reply except for the fact that it was generic and short. She obviously read my energy and didn't reply.

Dating Myself

“Be The Type Of Person You Want To Meet.”

-Unknown

 Written July, 2014

     I want. I want. I want. This was my main mantra  since my ex husband and I decided to divorce and Cara dumped me. The desire to create a romantic partnership inevitably began. My mind started to chatter and THINK…Why Not? I know what I want and what I am looking for. There is no time like the present, especially since much inner work was done throughout the marriage. It was timely to write my “I WANT” list…

     And so, my eyes began to wander.

     Cinnamon lovingly suggested that I could have a mad and passionate love affair with myself. Date myself? That doesn’t sound as fun.

     And then, I opened her book and read this…

   “That moment when you want to be wanted by someone else: that’s the moment to go in. Do you want yourself, exactly the way you are?” 

     Ohh, good question. Does saying that “I am close” count? 

     The answer would be, “No.” 

     So, my “I want” list immediately condensed to my best one-liner, yet...

     I Want To... “Be The Type Of Person I Want To Meet.” 

      I am surrendered to the truth that Love always knows best.