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The Trail of Crumbs…

I woke up this morning to find myself with this incredible vibrating, bouncing, awake and very much alive energy from the dreams I had last night, which were brought about by the last few things I was viewing, reading, then talking and texting about. Fully aware of all the questions I have been asking the last few weeks and all of the answers that were now so coming fully into my awareness as I am awakening and discovering the me that has been safe fully ensconced behind the mask of uncertainty which frequently still appears frozen in spots on my face.

Though this morning’s barrage of information I almost could not record as fast as it was pouring out of the now almost fully opened door from my past. The very past I have been accused of running away from, trying to escape, and thoroughly avoiding like the plague of disaster I had felt I was to my family, in my total inability to quietly, easily, and correctly fit in.  In my constant tendency to run full tilt into one sometimes painful encounter of “you did what, your grounded” after another. All the time being reminded why can’t you be more like your sisters, the occasional mention of how messy, tom boyish, bullheaded, stubborn, totally unpredictable and “who do you think you are”. To remind me there must be something wrong with me, because no matter how hard I would try… the little “brat” in me would escape and run the havoc of playing horsey, jumping over things in horse fashion, only playing with my sisters if I could bring my horse statues and get dirty.

Even being enrolled in tap and ballet so I could have feminine virtues was an interesting test between the older lady assigned to keep all girls returned to their appropriate classes, if found standing on the toilet seats so not to be discovered and sent back. Before I could make my mad dash up the stairs out to the freedom of the outdoors, then down the block to the library, to be later collected by my mother as I was deep in the fantasy dream world of horses, riding, playing, romping out on the plains, in the mountains, or splashing on the shores of the ocean.

Free to be me. Fully loose, engaged in my desires, happily rambling along for hours after the spanking or groundings of who I was going to be and the things I would accomplish. All brought fully home to the very core of me of the slight chance of impossibility in the latest barrage of others attempt to entice me to fit in to the newest, fastest, easiest, most successful way to make money… lots of it… fast. Just not for me,and I can say this with full confirmation that the Universe has my back.

I have become aware of that it pays for me to notice when things come in threes. There is always some piece of information I have asked for, now being presented for me to understand and do more or less with in my further learning about it. This present third attempt had all of the right words put together to cause me to click on the video…which on this particular site finally played all the way through on the third try. Leading me to another video, with me already on the alert the next move would be a choice of ease or discomfort as it began to reveal itself.

I so love my listening to my inner self, because even before the video opened, the headlines on the page were glowing brightly… Stop, delete, this is not for you! So I quickly closed it all out, deleting the other two possibilities, and high fiving myself for noticing and listening to my body in finding which direction I am to now head.

Suddenly so many questions were being answered in rapid succession, now that I had finally found the key to understanding and listening to “all” of me. I realized the reason the different guys I have dated in the past kept coming up. Why old stories and tales would occasionally make themselves known in situations where I would use them to clarify some point. Why I have had so many memories reappear for me to look at, sort and sift through. All of this was so I could find, recognize, validate and love the parts and pieces of all of these that are the truth of and for me.

I so appreciate my good friend whom I have been sharing this journey of discovery together, as I texted her for about the twentieth time last night with all of this information needing out and to be recorded, even though I knew she had already turned off her phone. I know our greatest gift to each other has been to truly listen to what the other one is saying… without condemnation, correction, or opinion. Being a sounding board for each to hear what they think they are saying, repeating statements the other might not even be aware of is coming out of our mouths, allowing the other to go on any kind of tangent of thought or thoughts. Then connecting back the dots to those things that stands out as being more important to either of us than we are aware of because of the constant references to that subject in some form or fashion.

We all need to be supported. Each and every idea is just a little seed that can take us to innumerable places if it is allowed to be planted, nurtured, and encouraged to grow into something bigger, newer, different, beautiful, imaginative and life giving to not only the person who first planted it, but also to all of those whom it touches and causes them to be amazed or inspired into becoming more of themselves in the process. I so love breathing life into ideas and assisting others to find, recognize and kindle their own ideas from a spark to a full flame. I am a sharer, teacher, lover, listener, and recognizer of the worth in each and every one of us!

The Dream is Still Alive…

Funny how I started this post without actually having any idea what it’s title might become, and at the moment with the still throbbing ache on the tip of my finger the title seems even less important, because I know I am on the trail of the solution to what p.a.i.n.s.(pay attention I need something) me at the present moment. Now that I have cleared the more pressing answers my body had been trying to get my attention about. Kind of like what I have noticed about many things in my life. The loudest, most annoying, the tastiest, slowest, fastest, whatever is in our main line of focus, usually gets our fullest attention.

Especially for me, since I feel and know that is how I best get and receive my guidance from Source through the sensations I notice and do something about. Or ignore until the object becomes too loud or sore to be left unattended, like I have done with both of my two index fingers in the last few weeks. As the one on the right hand at the knuckle only aches occasionally when I get mad at someone else for their causing me to be aware of my neglecting of me when I put them and their opinion first.

Though the left one I have tended in that hmmm, must have a thorn, sticker or splinter in it… it will fester and eventually come out on its own. Except for yesterday when I finally realized the solution to my what felt like a daily pen cleaning ordeal (this morning he cleaned them flawlessly without reading my blog or me saying anything). So I then sat down with tweezers, a needle, a pair of tiny surgical scissors and good light to pull off the hardened calloused spot, and hopefully easily extract whatever laid embedded there.

To find nothing as I probed, squeezed and prodded, except for the story that has been rambling in my head that seems so… just there out of reach. A place I visit occasionally, enjoy for a few moments, play with it, then put it away for more important things. Discovering this morning my finger has had enough of my nonsense and excuses as it annoyingly pointed at me “you’ve dealt with the anger, figured out about other people’s opinions, the need for a fresh start, and all these other roadblocks to your living life for those you know… Now go, write, find your truth, and find this answer that keeps playing with you in your dreams. Leaves whispers in the silence, shows up on emails, opened pages, license plates, and passing signs. Go write, explore, live like you imagine, search the piles of no’s, not acceptable, doesn’t fit, and everybody elses ideas. It really is okay!”

So I came in, sat down, opened emails, laughed and shared on Facebook till I felt a little more relaxed, less pushed, and prodded still unsure what might come out…

It’s been years (no ache from finger) this story so safely tucked away, which I only am allowed to play with in dreams and occasional meditations that I am usually guiltly startled out of. The trail would get warm and inviting as I ventured out upon it, then would speak of my desire for this dream out loud, not aware of the invitation to share was not denied, more just rewound for me to figure out my life long habits of others first. Until I changed and learned it really is okay to be the me that I almost lost, as I seemed to always be running so hard and fast trying to fit who I was supposed to be to others.

My dream had to hide, bury itself deep enough to keep the flame of remembering loving myself and that one amazing year experienced without anyone from my past to walk in with their rendition of who I had been and would always be…according to them. The safety of being completely new with no labels, no expectations, no siblings, family, or acquaintances opinions to be compared to, as I created the me I had fantasized and dreamed about growing up in the big city of San Antonio. Miles away from the country life, horses, cattle and cowboys that so cause my heart to race.

My soul began to fly, my wings to spread as that life sprouted and came to life in and around me. No denying having fun, experiencing anything and everything hundreds of miles from home, up in the big country of Alpine, Texas. I came out of the cage of others expectations as I explored all the nooks and crannies of living out on the land amongst cattlemen, ranchers, and fellow students away from home for the first time learning to experience and find themselves.

Of meeting this one guy, becoming friends, supporters, compadres, card players, and cronies in the crimes of shenanigans that come with freedom from rules and watching eyes. Being introduced to his folks, sharing meals, late nights at the hotel desk with others studying, swapping tales, just being whoever we desired, as we easily parlayed a lot of our shared secret dreams into reality.

Brought to a close, when my parents picked me up at the end of the spring semester and he came up to help load the truck. Clean cut, shaved, nice shirt, jeans, boots, and his brown cowboy hat with the over-sized turkey feather reaching over to introduce himself, before he hefted my book loaded down foot locker into the back of dad’s truck. That look on my parents faces, I was doomed, I had done the worst thing possible… chosen without checking the rules and guidelines laid out for the girls in our family.

My finger’s not aching. The tension in my shoulders that I hadn’t noticed when I started, just went slack, soft. As I realize I’ve been pointing at my own heart, so locked away from losing this piece of the puzzle. The dream inside so many of us which one may not realize may be behind the symptoms in their bodies that mysteriously keep them in pain, sick, hurting or waiting… for them to notice their very own bodies are trying to connect with them to fully be alive, by validating and becoming whatever truly makes their heart sings.

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