We Are Never Too Old To Play!

Last Thursday night I could not sleep. At three in the morning I gave up and decided to stir around the house for a while. I generally write when sleep eludes me, but, not this night, not this crazy night!  I was too restless, and far too wild for candlelit meditations or thoughtful prose. As I attempted to get settled at my desk, I noticed the camera just sitting there when an idea struck me. You know how goofy you can get when you’re up too late and you are truly tired and bored? How foolish musings can feel awe inspiring even when something deep inside of you says, “this is going to be funny in the morning, you big dumb-ass!” 

Like always, I did not listen to my higher self, and decided that I would get all dolled up and take some photos of myself~I rationalized that if I got a decent one, I would frame it for my husband for Valentines Day. So, with the spirited wit of a mischievous poltergeist, I got my fat middle aged self all dolled up (well, from the neck up anyway)….and I took a few pictures of myself. To say that these photographs were boring is an understatement, there was no spirit whatsoever to my tired face. I looked bored mostly, entirely uninspired, and utterly “blah”

By now, my little dogs had heard the comotion of my tromping around and came in to see if I might be cooking something that they could seduce me into sharing. When they saw what I was up to, they disappointedly settled their voyeuristic selves onto the sofa to get a sleepy eyed gander at my solitary amusements.

I sat at my desk and looked closer at the images on my camera. My eyes were old and sad, my chin was sagging, my shoulders drooped, there were freckles, age spots, imperfections galore. I was about to delete every picture and start planning my herbal facial restoration and radical diet plan when an inspiration from the dark midnight fueled my creative fires. Music! I needed music! Like they do with those hungry super models to get them “in the mood” I didn’t worry about waking my husband, once he is out, he is dead to the world until five in the morning.

I put on some really sexy stuff. “Sadness”  (Mea Culpa) by Enigma is one that never fails to make me feel “other-worldly sensual” so I played it pretty loud for three in the morning and lit a few candles to add a touch of glowing ambiance. As I danced and whirled around the living room, flashes bounced off of the large darkened windows like a disco ball!  I wondered if my drug and booze saturated old neighbor down below had seen the flashes and was making his stumbling way up the overgrown hillside to see what all the blue lights were about, and then, the thought left me as quickly as it came and I danced on like a vain teenager, spellbound in front of the mirror….Between you and I, I was secretly having the time of my life!

Dancing for Dogs!



I will pluck a daisy,

Ponder desire in golden fields

I will dance in honeyed surrender

Pleading to unholy guilds

I will swirl and fling my nature

Upon the deepest hottest coal

I will burn within the night

The very portrait of my soul

I will walk within misty shadows

Verge the harbors lapping shore

Wanting nothing ever

And needing nothing more

The Grateful Heart

Thankfulness is a fine art. If one can manage to move about the world in an attitude of charismatic gratitude, it is entirely possible to edge ever closer toward the full joy of true spiritual awareness. The wisdom of age ignites a passion within the truly wise ones and reminds us to embrace life, to embrace love, to embrace natures bounty, to embrace those creatures and humans that share our earth mother, and to lift up our hands in praise for the miracle of our lives and for those lessons on the path that have taught us to greet each dawn with smiles and sighs of thankfulness.  Just as a merry heart is honored by a merry face, let us embellish the days of our lives with a beguiling wooing of gratitude for within this state we will emanate a contagious kind of ecstasy, and strike an enviable balance of bliss and contentment . Serenity is the indication of thankful spirit. ~



Edgar Allan Poe

To One in Paradise

By Edgar Allan Poe1809–1849 Edgar Allan Poe
Thou wast that all to me, love,
   For which my soul did pine—
A green isle in the sea, love,
   A fountain and a shrine,
All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers,
   And all the flowers were mine.
Ah, dream too bright to last!
   Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise
But to be overcast!
   A voice from out the Future cries,
“On! on!”—but o’er the Past
   (Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies
Mute, motionless, aghast!
For, alas! alas! with me
   The light of Life is o’er!
No more—no more—no more—
   (Such language holds the solemn sea
To the sands upon the shore)
   Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree,
Or the stricken eagle soar!
And all my days are trances,
   And all my nightly dreams
Are where thy grey eye glances,
   And where thy footstep gleams—
In what ethereal dances,
   By what eternal streams.

The Newborn Day

There is a kind of holiness in a newborn day, a round, rosy tinge of hopefulness that satisfies my soul and inspires renewal within my spirit.  About one year ago, I began a simple predawn ritual of openheartedness. Long before dawn, I crawl out of my bed and make my bleary way to our house altar. I light the single center candle while my eyes are still veiled in sleep. The buttery flame promptly connects me to the Mother, to the earth, to my ancestors, to my own divine life-force. This deed is also one of faith and hopefulness that the day that is soon to be upon me, will be kind to me, and that I will be kind to the day. The modest flicker of warm golden light that is cast upon my face in the darkness just before dawn, has enriched my life in the most intimate and meaningful ways.

Our House Altar