Love and Miracles

 

March was the month from hell. It really was. I started to backslide into old negative belief patterns that I was unlucky, that this was my fate – had always been my fate, that bad things just randomly happen to me, etc…But then I stopped myself and said, “No, that is an old story. The new story is that I am open to love and miracles.” Even though I did not really believe this, I wrote it out, and posted it on my bathroom mirror. I looked at it and recited it to myself every day, until I started to feel it. All I can say is that if you make a commitment like this to yourself, buckle up.

April has been my month of dreams coming true. My book release events, both in Phoenix and at Barnes and Noble in L.A., were beautiful and meaningful. That same week I got to sing in a concert for my friend Jeff Jones, standing behind rock legends. I attended/spoke at four fancy gala events including Women Against Gun Violence  and The American Red Cross. My friend Amy said to me yesterday, “I’m exhausted from following you on facebook this month.” I laughed and said, “How do you think I feel? I’ve been in Spanx and heels for a month!”

Recently a facebook friend posted that she wouldn’t post any more pictures from her trip to paradise because she didn’t want to be obnoxious, and I said- PLEASE KEEP POSTING. Yes, there are people suffering terrible losses, losing jobs, reeling from depression. But for me, when I am down and I see people posting about wonderful times, it reminds me what is possible, for all of us. I find it so encouraging.

I posted a lot about my shitty month in March -- the funerals, the flood, the bugs, the ER trip --but I also wanted to post about all the good things, and hopefully it isn’t annoying or obnoxious to anyone, because my intent is to remind myself, and hopefully remind my friends who are suffering, that good times lie ahead, even when you can’t possibly imagine them.

I have lived through my Fire Season. I have walked through my dark night of the soul, and I know when you are there, how hard it is to find even the tiniest spark of light. If you are in a dark valley of your life, I ask you to open yourself to LOVE and MIRACLES. Repeat it to yourself even when you don’t believe it. Look for it every day, and notice the tiniest gifts…a bird on your windowsill, a rainbow, a meaningful song on the radio. Those are your stepping stones out of darkness. Open your heart to love and all the goodness life has to offer. Receive it with open arms when it comes…

Love and miracles beyond your wildest imaginings are in your future. Believe it. 

Here is something I never could have imagined years ago, when I was depressed and suicidal and wondering why I even existed.

Dreams Come True...singing backgrounds with Howard Jones, while raising money for my sick friend Jeff:

Faith Vs Common Sense

 "Faith is believing in something even when common sense tells you not to." 

- Maureen O'Hara,  Miracle on 34th Street

This Summer, in the midst of financial crisis that overwhelmed us, I knew we wouldn't  be doing anything for my "landmark" birthday in December. Common sense told me that that though I had set an intention for my family to travel this year,  there was no possible way. On top of that, three work trips I had booked for summer were cancelled. It just seemed to be the way my luck was going.

But then I decided to step out of my rut and change my perspective.

For the past several months I have prayed, meditated or journaled every day, and made a conscious choice to:
* keep my focus on what I want, instead of what I don't have.
* Feel gratitude for all the beauty in my life, instead of worrying about the things that were going wrong.
* Stay centered in who I am rather than letting negativity and rejection get the best of me.

Through daily meditation, I became a more patient mom. A happier, less overwhelmed wife. The brick walls that I kept hitting all year began to erode, and doors began to open.   In October, I was able to take the kids along on Troy's Wilson Phillips gigs in Vegas and Disneyworld, FLA.  We had two incredible family vacations full of happy memories. For free. 

Today is the final day of my most recent 21-Day Meditation Experiment. I'm centered. Positive. Hopeful. Oh,  and Troy and I are leaving for JAMAICA.  For FREE. And I'll wake up there on my birthday.

I won't say it's an outright miracle, but my life has definitely shifted since I changed my energy.

Here's how it happened. Recently we got a phone call from close friends of ours. Through their work, they were gifted an all inclusive, all-expenses-paid trip to Jamaica, but they didn't want to go (I know, I couldn't believe it either). They knew we loved Jamaica, so they gave the trip to us. And it just happens to be the week of my birthday.

My common sense did not see that coming. 

There really is something to the energy we create in our lives. Positive attracts positive, negative attracts negative. Meditation keeps me living in the positive, even when negative is whirling around me.

Whether or not there is any magic to it, I have seen logically that life just works better when I'm focused on the positive. So I will keep meditating, and keep my gratitude journal full. I will trust that things will work out, even when I can't see it in my own limited mind.

I will have faith, even when common sense tells me not to.

"I believe...I believe..."

Natalie Wood, Miracle on 34th Street

Reclaiming Joy III: Gratitude

“A miracle is a shift in perception.” – Marianne Williamson

In my last post, I talked about the scientific fact that nature abhors a vacuum, and that when you release negative energy from your life, something else will rush in to fill that space. And wow oh wow has that proven to be true in my life.

After my negativity fast, I made gratitude the centerpiece of my "reclaiming joy" experiment. At night, I journal about the moments I was grateful for that day. As a result, what happens is I am always looking for things to record - and that in itself brings me into the present moment. There are so many tiny moments that I would have missed if I was caught up in my head, only focused on my problems - like the kids playing and laughing together, a rare bird on my deck, a smile from a stranger. Suddenly the world seems full of things to be grateful for simply because I am awake. I am feeling a shift inside. Marianne Williamson would call that a miracle.

But an even deeper proof was yet to come.

With this new, lighter, positive heart, I believe a space was created for the Universe to meet me where I am. And here’s what happened:

Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth … that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too.

-W.H. Murray

Sunday, as I was getting ready to perform at the Veteran’s hospital (another way to immediately feel happy- do something kind for someone else) I got a random email. This woman said she was a segment producer for Huffington Post Live, and she had read my blog and wanted to know if I would be on the show the next day. What?

I called and asked how she found me. She said, “We are doing a show on the nature of suffering, and Nancy (the host) asked me to find someone who had lost everything and was still grateful. So I googled, “How I Lost Everything and Why I’m Grateful” and there you were.” I was floored. She googled the EXACT title of the blog I’d posted on the anniversary of my fire last year. Coincidence? Or Providence?

The next day, a little online interview that I thought three people would see, got picked up by AOL’s Top Stories, breathing life into this book (Wind To Wildfire) I’ve been trying to midwife into the world for over a year now. 

If this isn’t evidence that this reclaiming joy stuff is working, I don’t know what is.

The Path to Gratitude

There have been times in my life where I have been so low, I could not think of a single thing to be grateful for. But now, when I sink to that dark place, this is a little game I play with myself. I call it the Castaway Game.

I pick up my pen and paper, then imagine myself stranded on a desert island with no food, and nothing but a volleyball named Wilson to love. And then I start to write all the things I would pine for. Suddenly, every person in my life, every circumstance, becomes a blessing. Even the garbage truck with his noisy clanging while I’m meditating, the annoying dog that barks all day- even those things. Suddenly I become aware of the great cup of coffee I’m drinking and the fresh fruit on my table and I feel so damn lucky.

So if you’re ever feeling down on your luck, try this game. Put yourself on that island with Wilson and let the words fly.  And then... see if the shift in perception becomes your very own miracle. 

Here is a short excerpt from the Huffington Post Live interview, where I talk about what I learned from losing everything. 

 

“Oh Me of Little Faith”

As many of you know, I’ve been on a daily practice of meditation and prayer, and my life has begun to shift. (If you read any of my blogs from the disastrous years of 2010 and 2011, you know I’ve come a long way. Faith was my only way out of darkness.)

         My seven year old, Evan, has walked in on my practice on a few occasions. “What are you doing?” he’d ask.

Meditating,” I’d say.

“That looks boring…”  he’d say.

I pray for my children every night. My two oldest are on their own paths to faith, unsure, maybe a little bit cynical, as I was when I was raising them. But Evan came along at a time when I am stronger in my faith. And what exactly is my faith, you might wonder? I have faith that there is a grand intelligence that created a world so perfect and full of beauty and wonder that I could never squash it into a simple definition with my feeble human brain. I know that it cannot be encapsulated completely by a book, or words. I know it is something you must discover in your own heart, in your own way. I know there have been times when I was saved from certain disaster, times when I was lifted above the abyss. I know that we survived being asleep in a burning house while poisoned with carbon monoxide. And I’ve lived long enough to know that my prayers are eventually answered in unexpected ways.

The other night, as I was praying for Evan, I decided instead to pray with Evan. I knelt next to his bed.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

“I’m praying for your health and happiness and safety,” I said.

“How do you do it?”

“You talk to God in the language of your own heart, and if there is something you need help with, you ask.”

“I want to ask something,” he said, and then he proceeded with this prayer: “Dear God, I want to know if you are real so please send me a message. If you are real, drop a hat out of the sky and let it land on my front porch.”

“Hmm…that might be a little tough,” I said, “because hats don’t fall out of the sky so you’re asking for a pretty big miracle.”

“Well, how about a flower, then? If you are real God, please put a flower on the porch by 7:30 am so I can see it before I leave for school. You should be able to do that because you make flowers.”

Not wanting to interfere with his prayer process, I smiled and kissed Evan good night. Before I walked away I added, “God doesn’t always answer our prayers in exactly the way we want, and not always when we want…just so you know.”

I then vacillated about whether I should go outside in my bathrobe, pick a flower and leave it on the porch. I didn’t want him to be disappointed in the morning (Oh me of little faith). Eventually I decided not to interfere.

The next morning I was sitting on my bed reading. The cat budged my bedroom curtains open to watch the birds outside, and that was when I saw something yellow out of my peripheral vision. I got up to investigate. There was a yellow daisy laying on our deck. It was 7:22 am.

“Evan! Come here, quick! You have to see this!”

Evan stepped out onto the deck and scooped the yellow daisy up. He started jumping up and down, “He’s real! He’s real! I can’t believe it, God is real!” (Oh little he with faith)

My eyes filled with tears for this tiny miracle. Not only was it a flower, it was one of the silk daisies we’d used to decorate for Taylor and Aya’s wedding three and a half years ago, and just as Aya and Ayumu are about to come back to the U.S. Where had it come from?

So, is God real, or is this just a coincidence? Each of us has to decide. Each of us will struggle with faith through the blessings and hardships in our own lives, and I know Evan is no exception. He will have his good days and his bad. If he is anything like me he’ll have moments where he loses faith completely, and will have to fight hard to gain it back. But he will always have this sweet little story…of a yellow daisy that dropped from the sky and landed on his porch before 7:30am.

Maybe I should have let him stick with the hat request.

(Oh me of little faith…)

Tiny Miracles

Let me preface this story by explaining my history with finches. Ever since I can remember, whenever things became hopeless in my life, finches would appear out of nowhere. Suddenly the trees and bushes around me would fill with them, coming alive with their birdsong. Even if I were indoors, I’d see them in the trees outside my window, and I’d know, somehow, that everything was going to be okay. In 2004, during a particularly rough holiday season after becoming estranged from my family, Troy surprised me on Christmas morning with a beautiful birdcage filled with finches, and a wooden sign he had made that said HOPE. Little did I know that Christmas I was pregnant with Evan.

I am reluctant to admit I’ve not had much holiday spirit this year, which is not like me. I’m born in December, named after Holly. I’ve always been the embodiment of Christmas spirit. But not this year. I’ve gone through the motions, decorating the house, playing Christmas music, taking Evan to Candy Cane Lane, but I’ve had a raincloud following me. A couple weeks ago I extended an olive branch to my family, only to have it metaphorically slapped from my hand. But larger than that is the fact that it has been a year since I’ve seen my grandson Ayumu. I unpacked the Christmas decorations to find pictures of him with Santa, his ornaments, his stocking.

There is a hole in my heart the size and shape of him. A simple Christmas carol on the radio can make me have to pull my car over until the tears pass. My friend Julie said, when you lose someone, the hole never gets smaller. Your life just gets bigger around it. I try to build my life around the hole, but at Christmas time it feels so enormous it threatens to swallow me.

I didn’t think anything could touch that place inside me.

But Tuesday night, I came across a box of memories- my Cristen and Taylor when they were so small. It was 1995, the year after we’d lost everything in the fire, but we looked so happy. We had endured so much grief, and yet there was this strong love that couldn’t be broken. Looking at our faces pressed close together, the joy in our eyes, I realized that even though there are fractures in my family, and problems that seem to have no solutions, it’s all part of the beautiful mess that is life. Just as love pulled us through back then, it will pull us through again. Like the finches always remind me- everything will be okay. I went to bed happier that night.

In the morning I met a friend for coffee. Anna is the mom of two small children, and has spent the past year battling cancer. As we talked about life and loss and surviving the dark night of the soul, her little boy Andrew- a beautiful 18 month old half-asian boy, reached his arms up to me to be held, just as Ayumu always did. He climbed up in my lap and leaned back into me, lounging comfortably as he drank from his sippy cup. He put his little arms around my neck. He rested his head on my shoulder. He blew me kisses and gave me hugs. And suddenly, the vacant space I thought was unreachable was not empty. It was filling with love again. I left our meeting overcome with happy tears, so grateful for the gift that little angel boy gave me.

I called to tell Troy about it. “It was a tiny miracle,” I said, “and I just want you to know- your wife is happy again.”

Just after, I was driving to yoga, when suddenly something flashed across my rearview mirror. Something was inside my car. I slowed, looking behind me, when suddenly there was a blur in front of my face. I slammed on the brakes and as the car jerked to a stop, a finch perched next to my steering wheel, his little eyes like two shiny beads staring into mine. He sat, calmly looking at me, as I caught my breath.

I don’t know how he got inside my car. All my windows were up- it was cold outside.  My first thought was that he must have somehow gotten trapped and was frightened, so I rolled the window down to let him fly out. But he didn’t budge.

I slowly extended my hand to shoo him, but still, he didn’t fly away. Instead he let me scoop him up and hold him. I put my hand outside the car window to set him free, but he stayed put. He sat in the palm of my hand, looking at me, and that’s when I got it, and the tears started again. “Everything is going to be okay.”  I thanked him for bringing hope to my heart, and said a prayer of gratitude. He stayed with me for several more minutes, and then he flew away.

I sat unmoving in my car, letting myself feel it. I texted a picture of my little feathered angel to Troy. He wrote back, “But…how did that happen?”

There may be a million logical explanations for how it happened, and maybe it can all be explained away, but I know how it felt in my heart. I know what I felt was real.

I responded, “It was a tiny miracle.”

Answered Prayers

When you put your faith in love...

Troy is home from Japan with videos and pics of our grandbaby Ayumu, and as I peruse them again and again, I am overwhelmed with gratitude. I prayed for this EVERY day for a year. I woke up each morning, and thought about Ayumu. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the scent of his hair, the feel of his skin, the weight of him against my hip. I conjured up the feeling of running my fingers through his baby curls, the way he'd nestle his head into the hollow between my neck and shoulder, how he'd exhale and lay soft against me. Then I would take all that love, and put it into a prayer. Every single day. I called on every ancestor in spirit. I prayed to God, to angels. I asked for help from anyone who was out there in the cosmos.

A year ago, when Aya,my daughter-in-law, and Ayumu failed to return from a "visit" to Japan, when her facebook and email accounts disappeared, when she stopped communicating with all of us, yes, I panicked. I feared we would never see our grandson again. But I knew that fear was not my friend, and would only make a bad situation worse. After the tears and ranting, I decided, instead, to invest in faith. I put that faith in LOVE. 

For a year we have prayed, and sent only loving words to Aya. Even though she often would not respond, we still sent love. 

A year later, this happened in Kobe, Japan. I think this picture says it all.

My husband Troy and grandson Ayumu, reunited.

Some may say it was coincidence that while touring with Wilson Phillips, Troy was booked on a layover in Japan, but I know it was my answered prayer.

Aya rose to meet the occasion, and welcomed Troy into her home for three days, letting him spend every waking moment with Ayumu. Ayumu rushed into Troy's arms, held his hand everywhere they went, chattered in Japanese to him. If we had gotten angry with Aya, which certainly would have been justified, I know this gentle reunion would not have happened. Aya has matured over this past year. She is seeing things differently. And now, she is talking with both Troy and our son Taylor ( still her husband) about the possibility of coming to visit.

What I have learned through this ordeal is to never lose hope. Never lose faith. Miracles are possible when you keep your heart open. We don't have the perfect scenario, and I don't know that we ever will, but somehow we will find a way to be a family. Even with 5000 miles between us, through the cultural differences and the hurts and misunderstandings, we are a family. Love wins.

Saying goodbye at the airport, Troy whispers, "Come home to us, little one."

Love Finds a Way

Sometimes…when you hold a prayer in your heart, and never lose faith, and repeat it every morning for almost a year…

Sometimes, when you refuse to give in to fear, or anger, or faithlessness…

Sometimes when you choose love, and hold on to it in the face of challenges…

- a tiny miracle descends upon you like a feather falling from the sky.

This was our tiny miracle.

Ever since our grandson was taken from our lives last November, we held on to hope.

Even as our daughter-in-law didn’t return from Japan, even as her facebook account and email accounts disappeared, we kept hope.

Every single morning we prayed for our grandson Ayumu, and refused to give in to the worst of our fears - the fact that Japan is the number one country for parental child abduction, that they do not acknowledge the custody laws of other countries.

All through this ordeal with our daughter-in-law, our friend Mary advised us to "love her through it" - that no matter how hurt we were, to return every hurt with love.  "Just keep throwing love at it," she said, and I got chills, because I knew that was the right thing to do.

Last Thursday, on Evan’s birthday, as Troy was getting on a plane for Ohio, he got an email on his phone. It turns out that when he goes on tour to the Phillipines in October, the promoter booked him a three day layover in Japan, at no cost. In a matter of weeks, Troy will be holding our grandson Ayumu in his arms again. Aya has agreed to let Troy stay with her family for those three days so he can spend as much time as possible with Ayumu.

The most beautiful part of this miracle: as he got the email, the song “Love Will Find a Way” was playing on the radio. 

*****

The other day, driving Evan home from school, he blurted out a random question, as he always does. “What is true about the world?” he asked.

I thought about it for a moment, then answered, “The only thing I know to be absolutely true is that love always wins.”

 

Click above to see my grandson laughing.  

Do You Believe in Angels?

Last week, I was upstairs writing, and Troy was in the recording studio doing a session with a French horn player. At the end of the session, Troy came upstairs and said, “The French horn player really wants to say hello to you before she leaves. She said she remembers you from the last time she did a session here, eight years ago, and something about a rainbow?”

I had no idea what he was talking about but I went downstairs to say hi to Stephanie, the French horn player. We had a friendly hello and a handshake, and then she said she had a crazy story to tell me.

“Do you remember eight years ago, I was doing a session here?” I smiled politely but honesty I didn’t really remember. She continued, “I had never worked with any of you before, so you didn’t know me, and you didn’t know my husband had recently passed away.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I touched her arm.

She nodded, “ It was a rough time for me. A lot of crying and calling girlfriends at three am. Anyway, at the end of the session as all of us musicians were packing up to leave, Mike (the client whose album it was) ran outside after me and asked if I’d come back to play on one more song.”

Mike said, “It’s a song I wrote for my daughter, who shares your name, Stephanie. We don’t have any charts or anything written out…I wasn’t planning on any horns on this song, but maybe you can just listen to the song and see if you can come up with a part?”

Stephanie agreed, came inside and put on the headphones, and that’s when she heard our friend Tollak’s beautiful voice singing, “Stephanie, I will never let you go, Stephanie I love you I love you I love you….Remember I'm here, right by your side, reach out your hand and touch the sky...”

Suddenly she was covered in chills. She felt sure husband had sent her a message through this song,but didn’t know if she was just imagining it. She was hoping for a sign.

“Just then,” she said to me, “You burst through the studio door and said, 'I’m sorry to interrupt you guys, but there’s a double rainbow in the sky. You have to come and see it!'”

Stephanie was blown away. She stumbled outside, stunned, and what she saw was like a scene from a movie. There I stood with my neighbors at the edge of a meadow, little kids and golden retrievers running around, everyone gathered together to witness the rainbow.

Stephanie said that day changed her, for she knew at that moment her husband’s love for her lived on.

I had barely remembered that day and the double rainbow. I had no idea when I burst into the studio interrupting the session (which I never, ever do, by the way) that I had delivered a message to a woman from her deceased husband.

It made me wonder, how many of us have delivered life-altering messages to strangers and never had any idea? The world is a huge and mysterious place, full of wonder, and mystery, and, I believe, angels walking amongst us.

The story gets even deeper -- Mike, who wrote the entire album,  was a Wall Street guy who had just left the Twin Towers minutes before the first plane hit on 9/11. He knew then that life is short, that he wouldn't die with his music still  in him. 

Often we think that life is just chaos. We sometimes doubt the existence of God when the world seems to be spinning out of control. But if we slow down enough to notice, to listen, there are signs everywhere. A white feather on your pillow. A favorite song that comes on the radio right when you’re thinking of your loved one, a butterfly that dances persistently in front of you, or how about this:

The message of this story - Keep your eyes and ears open. Be aware when a butterfly lands in front of you, or a hawk soars in circles overhead and always, always stop to notice a rainbow.

If you have an angel story, will you please share it here?

Here are a few more of my miracle stories about God and angels:
TINY MIRACLES
OH ME OF LITTLE FAITH

Miracles in the Darkest Moments

I’m keeping God and the angels very busy with all the prayers I’m sending up these days.

I’m praying for my stepmother Dawn, who has surgery for colon cancer next week.

I’m praying for my sweet friend Anita, whose body went into toxic shock last night.

I’m praying for my Aunt Laura, who just had surgery for breast cancer.

I’m praying for my daughter in law Aya and grandson Ayumu to come home.

And in the middle of all this grief and darkness, I spoke to my mother for the first time in ten years. It was a peaceful conversation - an attempt to heal.

It was nothing short of a small miracle.

Once again, I find miracles in the middle of mayhem, and wonder if they could occur any other way.

It’s not as though Moses was hanging out with some friends one day, drinking wine, and said, “Hey you guys, wanna see a cool party trick?” - then parted the Red Sea. It’s always at the darkest moments that miracles occur.

What I am trying to learn now is not to fear the dark moments, and instead, to trust.

To trust that there will be good somewhere within.

To trust that some how, some way, all of the pain will be healed.

To trust in goodness, and love.

These simple things I know -  every bloom that falls off the vine will return again when the season is right, and the sun will rise every morning now matter how pervasive the darkness.

This is the hope that sustains me.

The Messages Are Always There

 One of 100 white origami cranes we folded for the blessing of Taylor and Aya's marriage
photo by Christina Donnelly

This morning, as I was on my morning run with my hubby, we stopped at the top of the mountain, and sat on the ledge overlooking a lake. We decided to take a few moments to say a prayer, as we had many worries on our minds.

One of our dearest friends has lost both her mother and younger sister in the past two weeks.

Our sweet friend Anita still lies in a hospital bed (four months now), after a heart transplant.

My stepfather, and yet another friend, both await biopsy results.

So much to pray about today, and my heart was heavy.

As I sat in prayer, envisioning white light around my loved ones, Troy nudged me and told me to open my eyes. A beautiful white crane was soaring over the lake. In Japanese culture, as my daughter-in-law Aya has taught me, white cranes are a symbol of hope and good health. Aya and I have folded white origami cranes as a form of prayer.

I saw that majestic white crane, and knew that I could let go of fear and worry. Someone bigger than me, and much more intelligent than me, has got this thing called creation all figured out. Every once in a while, when I’m paying attention, the message is there.

Today it was written across the sky: All Will Be Well.

A Modern Day Miracle

Miracles do occur in this world, but because the media gets better ratings from fear-mongering, we rarely hear about them. That's why it's up to us, people like you and me, to spread the word.

The best gift I could give anyone this weekend is to share this phenomenal story with you. In 2006, Anita Moorjani was dying of cancer. Literally dying. All her organs had shut down, her emaciated body had swelled up with toxic fluids and she was in a coma. Her family was gathered around her, everyone experiencing terrible grief, but through it all, Anita was happy, for she was experiencing something that defies explanation- at least to our understanding here on Earth.

Anita left her body and went to a place of unconditional love, where she felt her connection to all of humanity, and while there, she learned that FEAR was what had dominated her life up until that point, and that FEAR in fact, was the cancer that was killing her.

Eventually she was told to go back to her body, and that with this new understanding and release of  fear, her cancer would be gone.

This is what happened. A dying woman, riddled with tumors the size of lemons up and down her spine, whose organs had all shut down, returned to perfect health within days. This has been investigated by numerous doctors. None of them can explain what they've witnessed.

One of the lessons Anita learned on the other side was this - Our only mission in life is to be our true selves. Not our "career" selves, or our "projected" selves, but who we really are deep in our hearts. If we do this, our life purpose will be clear. We don't have to pursue anything else in life but being our true selves. When we are authentic, everything we need will come to us.

Imagine that.

I urge you to watch this interview with Anita Moorjani. It's about the length of a TV show, so maybe ditch the reality shows today and watch this instead. Because maybe, just maybe, this is the true "reality".

Anita Moorjani Interview- Near Death Experience

Prayer for Japan

Proof that miracles thrive in the presence of love

My heart is heavy with grief this morning as I watch the devastation in Japan unfold on television. I lived through the1994 earthquake in California. It registered 6.7 on the Richter scale, and I thought the world was ending. It was terrifying beyond belief. But to survive an 8.9, only to be wiped out by a Tsunami only 15 minutes later? I truly can not imagine the horror.

I had to break the news to my Japanese daughter-in-law last night. We watched the news together, sick to our stomachs, praying her friends and family would be safe through the night.

It’s times like these that rock my faith. Is there a patriarchal God up there who just had a temper tantrum,  decided he didn’t like his creation and knocked it over like a cranky child with a stack of blocks? I can’t buy into that.

I don’t know if there is a God “up there”, or somewhere in the atmosphere, but if God is love, then yes, I see God. Because with every disaster that happens in the world, as people are suffering, a miracle begins to emerge. The God in you, the God in me, awakens. We become united as humans. All around the world we connect through our prayers, empathy and our actions. We connect through Love.

We give, even when we don’t have. We rush toward the disaster, rather than look away. We reach out to absolute strangers. In those desperate moments we realize, we are all one.

This morning  President Obama announced our commitment to help Japan, saying "The friendship and alliance between our two nations is unshakeable, and only strengthens our resolve to stand with the people of Japan as they overcome this tragedy." Sixty years ago Japan was our enemy. Today, our friendship is unshakable. I think of that every time I hold my half-Japanese grandson in my arms, and remember that my grandfather was a bomber in World War Two. Miracles occur in the wake of devastation.

Is there a reason for everything? I don’t know. But there is a reason for us now to rise to the very best in us. To help, to pray, to hold one another in grief, in loss.

So please join me this morning, and say a prayer for our brothers and sisters in Japan.

This too shall pass, and all will be well, for miracles thrive in the presence of love.

New Decade, New Beginnings

As I shed the remnants of 2010 like a bad virus, I am giddily optimistic about this new year, and in fact this whole decade. At the same time, I feel big changes shaking things up...the foundation beneath me trembling...

Everything is about to shift.

I'm ready.

I spent last night writing what I want from this year, what I want to see happen in my life in the coming decade. In doing this journaling and meditating, I saw a huge flaw in myself. I really need to work on feeling I "DESERVE" good things to happen to me. The problem is, I expect the bad things. They're like an old shoe. I know how to navigate trauma. But the good stuff- I don't trust it. It can be ripped out from under you at any moment.

You see? That's the problem. Always waiting for that other shoe to drop- expecting it in fact. When I think of those who have achieved their highest dreams, I'm sure they didn't share my negative thinking patterns.

And yet look at the love that surrounds me. Somehow I must believe enough in that, because I am truly surrounded by goodness and love. How did I learn to believe in love? To trust in love and the goodness of people, even when I was shown repeatedly that people could be cruel, and betray you? How did I end up in such a beautiful loving marriage, when I only saw destructive relationships growing up?

It may have been this. For years- after being betrayed again and again by my own family and "friends", I PRAYED and journaled and posted on my wall and my bathroom mirror that I deserved to be surrounded by like-minded, loving people, who loved me and treated me kindly. I don't know that I completely believed it at the time...but I prayed and wrote it anyway....over and over, until it finally came to pass. It is a miracle, a prayer answered, that we all have one another.

Also, years ago I wrote "I am now open to the possibility of all my wildest dreams coming true". I posted it on my mirror, looked at it every day. That year, at 39 years old, I found my biological father and three brothers.

I'm ready to set a course for myself, to start praying more for goodness, and training myself to believe in it. I told Troy last night I've not felt in control of my destiny at all for the last couple years. I've felt like a leaf drifting on the river, going wherever it took me, which was often over the edge of the rapids. I want to now learn how to navigate my own boat. I know I can't control the river, but I can set a course, and learn how to paddle.

I am excited to begin the journey. And I will pray for goodness, and write it even when I feel doubt, keeping myself on course for miracles.

Wanna come?

My Birthday Wish

I woke early this morning (5:55 as a matter of fact…hmmm) as I always do on my birthday. I have a birthday ritual - I wake before everyone, when the house is quiet, and read what I wrote in my journal on my last birthday. I reflect on what my hopes were for the year, assessing how far I came, what I learned, how it all turned out.

Reading what I wrote last year on December 4^th…all I could think was wow. I wrote what a wonderful year 2009 had been, how happy I was, how much I had learned. 2009 was our 20^th wedding anniversary, and Troy and I renewed our marriage vows in Jamaica. It was a blessed year. Work was good, life was good, love was good. I was happy, happy, happy.

And these were my wishes for the coming year, 2010:

“I look forward to this year, and all the wonder and uncertainty it holds. My arms and heart are open, ready to feel and experience it all. Love, health, creativity, growth, passion, new experience.”

Well, I can’t say I didn’t get what I asked for. Love, health, creativity…check. Grateful for that. Perhaps I should have been more specific in the “growth” and “new experience” categories…like maybe adding the word POSITIVE before them (will definitely remember to do that today).

Anyone who’s been following my blog this year has heard ad nauseum about all the drama: law suits, dog attacks, threats of violence, restraining orders and police and court dates, bubbling sewage, failing septic system, thousands and thousands of dollars to home disasters, one dog attacked by pitbulls, the other dying of cancer, bug infestations, car blowing up, and worst of all, losing a dear, dear friend to an untimely death.

2010: A painful, frightening, disastrous year.

But it also was a year of love, inspiration and miracles. It was hard to see it at the time, but in reflecting back, here’s what I found:

Miracle #1 - I spent my birthday in a writing group at Joyce Maynard’s house last year. In a private moment, she took my hands, looked me in the eyes and said “You are a great writer.” My knees buckled and I cried. I had never taken my writing seriously before- it was just something I had always done since the second grade. I wrote just because, well, because it was in me. And then I stuffed it away in a steamer trunk. After that day, I got to business – working my ass off every day, through all the drama of the year, until finally - I finished my book.

Miracle #2 - Out of pain and frustration I launched a blog, so I could cry and whine to someone else and give my poor husband and girlfriends a break. Before that I had never entertained the thought- didn’t even read blogs or really know what they were. You all endured a lot of whining from me this year. You truly did, and you were kind and patient and loving. Thank you.

Miracle #3 - Friendship. Early this year I found my birthday sister Amy Ferris. Immediately she led me to Kristine and Molly, Richard, Monica, Linda and so many beautiful souls, that before I knew it I was surrounded by angels. Amy Ferris is an angel-magnet. Yes she is. And my relationships with each of my closest friends was put to the test this year- big time. But in every circumstance (and there were some jaw-dropping crazyass circumstances this year that I did NOT blog about) , I was amazed how LOVE was bigger than the problem, and how our friendships not only survived, but deepened. So to you wonders, Erin and Beth, Dani, Cindy - thank you. Man, our friendship kicks ass.

Miracle #4 - When our neighbor threatened us with violence, and the pitbulls were snarling at the gate…I was terrified. I couldn’t sleep. And I put it out there to all of you, my friendship angels, and you offered support, love and prayers. I felt your prayers around me like a shield. All of a sudden, I didn’t feel afraid anymore. You gave me courage, advice, solutions. You lifted my fear, countless times. When my father was in the hospital, when Greg died, when my dog Brandy died, when my house and appliances and life were all exploding…You lifted me.

Miracle #5 - My son Taylor was married to Aya on Valentine’s day (and the real miracle was that I planned a wedding in 20 days!)

Miracle #6 - Taylor and Aya’s son, Ayumu Cameron Ikuta Dexter, was born on June 1^st. Now there is more love and chaos under the Dexter roof. I couldn’t be happier.

Miracle #7 - My daughter Cristen not only survived a very painful break up, but thrived. Now she has a slammin’ new job at Live Nation, a slammin’ new apartment in West Hollywood, a new car, and a rich, full life. Who needs Mr. Wonderful to be happy? This girl oughta write a book for other young women. The title: “Create your own damn happiness!”

Miracle #8 - As many of you know, eight years ago I found my biological father, and my whole big, wacky, beloved family came with him. This year two of my brothers (Ted and Ted), my sister Heather, my nephews, my stepmom Susan, then Aya’s mom Kunie, all came to stay with us, filling our home with love and hope.

Miracle #9 - We were in Yosemite when we got the news that Greg had died. I think we were being looked out for, because the shock would surely have leveled us if we hadn’t been in the comfort and beauty of God’s country.

Miracle #10 - Evan. Just Evan.

And above all- my husband Troy. That we stood solid through all of this, didn’t let the stress affect our marriage, held hands and walked through the storms together, and that I love him ten times more now than I ever thought possible… I’d call that a miracle of almost biblical proportion. I would like to have t-shirts made. “We Survived 2010! and we still love each other! A lot!”

And I know many other seeds of miracles have been planted, that will take root in the future. I do know this.

So today, as I wrap this up, my birthday wish for the coming year is this:

Health, Financial Abundance, Safety, LOVE, Peace, Boundless Opportunity, Abundant Work, POSITIVE Growing Experiences (please!), Faith, Hope, Creativity and Inspiration

I wish these things not only for me, but for every one of you. And I hope (and trust) that the kindness you have shown me this year comes back to you ten-fold.

Thank you for being a part of my miracle year, and my life.

P.S.

(Mine and Amy’s astrological forecast for today from our newest obsession boothstars.com – and by the way, thanks a lot Barb Radecki for getting us addicted)

If today is your birthday: 
Even if you only achieve just a fraction of your goals you have set out for yourself today, you will end the year feeling exceedingly pleased with your progress. A rare and most fortuitous celestial canopy is today blessing your prospects for the next twelve months.

Is it true? Who knows. But I'm running with it!!!

Day 6 of Miracle Week

Well, day 5 was not so great. Scratch that, it had some pretty great possibility. I mean some things are in the works, seeds planted…but me being me, I don’t count my chickens before they hatch. But what DID happen yesterday is my miracle kid got the stomach flu. And my grandbaby is running a high fever. And I got another rejection letter from a pretty major agent. She said my life story was really interesting and she enjoyed reading it, but it would be too hard to try to sell the book of a person with no platform. ( If I wear platform shoes....does that count? hmmm...) Meanwhile, as Amy pointed out, Christine O Donnell got a book deal. Whatever.

Amy wrote to me “Welcome to the rejection club, Hollye Dexter”. And for some reason that made me smile, because I know I’m in some pretty good company here.

I’ve actually been a card-carrying member for quite a while now, being a singer/songwriter for twenty years. This is not much different than the music business. Some of the most talented musicians and singers I know are out there pounding the pavement in obscurity, while Paris Hilton and Heidi Montag have record deals. Who ever said life was fair. For some reason I seem to be drawn to the professions with the highest rejection rates: acting, music, and writing. Yes, I am insane. But I’m not alone! In fact, here is a short story on same famous authors rejection letters. Sorry Jack Kerouac, Sylvia Plath…you just have no platform- your book will never sell.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=14453550

Aaaanyhoo…My son kept his toast down this morning, and the baby smiled for the first time in 24 hours, so I will continue declaring my heart’s intent, praying away the bad Juju of the past year, and believing that miracles are at work under the surface. Since it’s the holiday season, I’m summoning the spirit of George Bailey in my favorite movie It’s a Wonderful Life. I’ve thought of him a lot in this Mr. Potter year. Just as George learned to do, I’m keeping my chin up, trusting that everything is happening for a reason, that things unfold in their own time, and that every single one of us is here for a reason and the world needs us.

And like Natalie Wood says at the end of Miracle on 34^th Street, after her hope has been dashed…I believe, I believe…

A Miracle Story

Six years ago I had the worst birthday ever. Worst. It was December 2004. I was estranged from both of my parents. My mother had exiled me for speaking out against something awful that had happened in our family. My father was struggling with addiction again, and had let our relationship go. Neither of my parents called or acknowledged my birthday. In fact not one person in my extended family acknowledged it.

As if being estranged from my parents wasn’t bad enough, the nonprofit foundation I’d co-founded was in the middle of a hostile takeover by some ambitious board members. Power and greed overcame altruism. The musical instruments that had been donated to my students (kids in foster care) were taken away. The grant money was pulled from my arts programs so they could use it for advertising and self promotion. They were attempting to oust me and run the organization themselves. It was the year of the Grinch, for sure.

On top of that, my daughter was away at college, and I was missing her. My son was a teenager, busy with his own life and his rock band. All I wanted for my birthday was a couple of my close friends over for dinner. But even that didn’t work out. Two of them only stopped by briefly on their way to another event, one got drunk to the point of puking, and the other’s car broke down on the side of the road. So while my husband went to rescue her, I went to bed alone. Happy birthday to me….

The day after my birthday, I crawled into my bed like a wounded animal and cried a year’s worth of tears. I went through an entire box of Kleenex. But I did something else too. For the holidays, I had made a mix CD of songs about angels. I played this CD all day while I cried. And I prayed - not just any prayer- I remember this prayer specifically because I chanted it over and over for hours.

Please send me an angel to help me believe in the goodness of people again.

Over and over and over…crying, praying, crying some more. I spent the whole day doing this.

Often times, miracles are already budding just beneath the surface of your life, but you can’t yet feel it. Never in a million years did I imagine what would come next, and it wasn’t until late January that I found out. That Christmas morning, completely oblivious, I already had the gift nestled inside me. Just weeks after I sent that prayer out into space, I had become pregnant at forty-one years old (and using birth control).

After the initial shock (and boy oh boy…what a SHOCK) we figured out it must have happened right before Christmas, maybe even on Christmas Eve. I knew then my prayers (or my intent) had been heard and answered. Certainly not in the way I expected - but rarely are prayers answered the way we expect.

On the September night I went into labor, there was a freak electrical storm. Thunder and lightning, unseasonal for California, announced Evan's entrance into the world. I always tell him he rode into town on a lightning bolt.

Every birthday since, I’ve had this little angel-boy to spend my day with, running around the house, raising a ruckus like he always does, testing my patience, teaching me to love on the deepest level.

All three of my children were miracles that I hoped and prayed for. Each of them came to me in a different miraculous way, and each has taught me so much about the true nature of love.

As I was writing this, my son Evan, five years old, came into the room and asked what I was doing.

“I’m writing about how you – and how you came to me like a miracle.”

“What’s a miracle, mommy?”

Hmmm…had to think about how to define that to a five year old.

“It’s when…something really good happens to you right at the time you need it.”

“Oh. Like ice cream?”

“Yes honey, like ice cream.”

“Can I have ice cream after school?”

“Yes.” I smiled and held his little face in my hands.

“I love you,” he said.

And that, my friends, is the miracle.