The Power of Intent

After I was fired last June from Moms Demand Action, I began to pray and envision every day that I would one day work in gun violence prevention for a great organization, and that I would actually be appreciated for the work I do. And that is exactly what happened. Look what is written every month on my paycheck:

Do I believe that prayer has power? You bet I do. You can call it intent, or affirmation …but whatever you call it, it works.

Here’s another example. Back in 2003, I wrote on a post-it note, “I am now open to the possibility of all my wildest dreams coming true.” You might think, well, yeah…who wouldn’t be? But I think that subconsciously, most of us aren’t. We are afraid of change, or maybe we feel we don’t deserve it. For me, I was so familiar with struggle, subconsciously I didn’t really believe it was my destiny to be happy. So when I wrote this post-it, I remember feeling giddy – because I really meant it – and I knew I was throwing a door wide open. I put the note up on my bathroom mirror where I could see it every morning. That year, I found my biological father. I had thought he was dead. I also found out I had three brothers. This was beyond my wildest dreams…beyond my wildest imaginings.

It was the author Mary Karr (The Liar’s Club) that got me back on my knees. While I was reading her memoir Lit, her story about getting sober and finding her faith again, I was going through a really hard time in my own life. I was broke, struggling, fighting a terrible court battle and my family was in shambles. Karr wrote about how prayer turned her whole life around. I figured I had nothing to lose. I started praying daily, and sure enough, all the jagged pieces began to sift back into place. Unlike Karr, who is Catholic, I don’t pray to a patriarchal version of God. I don’t believe God is separate from me - out there somewhere judging my every move. My prayer begins by acknowledging the Creative loving spirit that made me and that I am part of. I attempt to feel my connectedness to everyone and everything, and I set my intent for that day. I ask for help, while believing that help is already provided, also believing that everything that happens in my life is for the betterment of my soul.

I can’t define what I believe about God. My father is a Baptist preacher, my daughter is half-Jewish, and I think I believe most in the tenets of Buddhism…but what I do feel sure of is that putting my faith in love and goodness has never steered me wrong. So I will continue to pray in the name of love, goodness and a great creative spirit, and I will put a new post-it on my mirror today:

Dreams are a Powerful Thing

 

Last night at the King Family Christmas party, our friend Wendy got up and told the story of her childhood Christmases in Australia. Her father ran a general store that was open 365 days a year, even half a day on Christmas. On Christmas, she and her brothers would watch Christmas shows on TV, and wait for their father to get home from the store. Their father believed in each person getting only one gift, so they'd wait all day to open their one gift, and that was Christmas. She asked her father, "Why can't we have a Christmas like they have on TV and the movies?" and her father said, "That stuff is only on TV. It isn’t real." But Wendy never stopped dreaming about those sparkly Christmases she saw every year on TV.

When she grew up, Wendy came to California on vacation, where she met and fell in love with a lovely man - and because of him, she would never leave California. They were married twenty years ago, and had a family. Little did she know when she met him that this man was part of the King Family- the family known for their annual Christmas specials. Troy and I have been part of the King Family’s annual holiday party and Christmas Show for 15 years, and let me tell you- nobody does Christmas like the King Family. Wendy’s Christmases now are far beyond the ones she saw in the movies. Every year, Christmas is sparkling and full of song and family and joy. I love Wendy’s story because it is such a strong testament to the power of dreams. 

Sing-a-long at the King Family Christmas party.

Christmas has always been a special time of year for me. After all, I’m born in December and named after a Christmas plant. But beyond that, it is a time of hope. It’s a time when my family always pulled it together to be our best selves, no matter what else was happening in our lives.

My childhood was not so bright and merry. Domestic violence, a dad in prison, and being shuffled around to relatives made me long for a normal, stable life. I would count the days every week until the Partridge Family show came on TV. I was riveted to the screen. Like Wendy watching her Christmas shows, I watched the Partridge Family and not only wanted to be like them, I wanted to BE them. And my favorite Christmas album? ---------->

Many years later, I married a musician, raised some musical kids, and now we record Christmas songs together every year. This is my Christmas/Partridge family dream-come-true. Our Christmas Family album is our gift to you, (download for free and share with friends, if you like) in the hopes that it inspires you to never think a dream is too big, or that you can’t have it, or that it doesn’t exist. Remember Wendy’s story, and be inspired.

Our wish for you this holiday season in that you hold on to your dreams.

Merry Christmas and happy holidays from our family to yours…
(Listen to our Family Affair Holiday Album while you peruse the internet by clicking below, or feel free to download the whole album for free.) 

Learn how to make a free Electronic Press Kit

 

Answered Prayers?

Lately a friend asked why I seem to have so much going on in my life at once. First let me just say that facebook presents a false reality that absolutely everyone is out having a fabulous life while we are home doing laundry (and in fact I spend the majority of my Saturday nights home doing laundry) but ultimately she’s right. I have had a lot going on lately because I am saying yes to everything. And here’s why.

The last few years, from 2010 on, were rough. My challenges were so huge and overwhelming, I was on the verge of losing everything. I endured a stressful, costly three-year court battle to save my dog, a restraining order on a violent and armed neighbor who threatened to kill my husband, losing my grandson for a year and a half, household disasters that cost us tens of thousands we didn’t have, and the list goes on. On top of that, during this time both my writing and singing career seemed to be dying a slow financial death. We were living on the edge of quiet desperation. Not knowing where to go, I went within, and I wrote, and I read. One of the books I read was Lit by Mary Karr. Karr talked about being broken down and broke in her own life, and how it forced her to her knees. Literally. She began to pray every day, and miraculously her life turned around. In addition to sobering up for the first time in her life, her first book, The Liar’s Club, soon became a New York Times bestseller. And things only got better from there.

Though I am a Baptist preacher’s daughter, my strongest sense of religion is perhaps my devotion to the written word. Nature is the only church I belong to. But finding myself at an all time low, I had nothing to lose by following her lead.

I began praying every morning, and meditating, even if for a few minutes. I didn’t know if I was doing it “right” by any dogmatic standards, but I was sincere in my practice.

Aside from praying for my loved ones (and sometimes my not-so-loved ones), I prayed to be my best self. I prayed for opportunity. I prayed to be given the chance to do good work in the world. I vowed that if opportunity was given to me, I would rise up to meet it. And I said thank you. A lot. No matter how bleak things were, there was always something to say thank you for. Months into this, what I previously considered my “luck” began to turn around.

After a solid year of praying, I am blessed with meaningful work. My dog has remained safely with me. My grandson came home. The violent neighbor got evicted – on Christmas. We were even “gifted” a free trip to Jamaica. Opportunities are coming my way right and left, so what else can I do but say YES to everything? I would be crazy not to.

Are these answered prayers? I don’t know. I don’t presume to be evolved enough to wrap my puny brain around the mystery of God. But what I do know is that words have power. Stating my intention every day changed something. I also observed that my days matched the energy I brought to them, and starting my day in quiet contemplation definitely brought good energy.

I have no evidence that there was someone listening on the other end of that cosmic line. The things I've experienced --gun violence, almost being killed in a fire, a catastrophic childhood, a father in prison -- sometimes made it hard for me to believe in any God, but my faith is stubborn. I have seen evidence of grace in my life. I have seen evidence of love, and of goodness. What else could God be but that?

So I will keep on praying. And saying yes. And saying thank you. And I suppose I should thank Mary Karr at some point.

*Another blog I wrote on The Power of YES.

2013- My Greatest Teacher

Just after Christmas, as I was cleaning my room and desk, I found a sealed envelope in which I had written my prayers for the year. When I opened it, I was astounded:

Though I had all but forgotten this written prayer,  it had been answered. Maybe not in exactly the way I expected, but answered nonetheless.
I was able to do the work of my soul. Though my book has not (yet) sold, in the wake of Newtown, I worked for gun reform all year. I never saw that coming, and yet it was the most important work I could do - and had to do.

My family was blessed with good health, Stitch is still with us, and we have peace and resolution.

And this, the answered prayer I didn't think was possible : my grandson Ayumu and daughter-in-law Aya came home from Japan. They moved back in with us. Ayumu enrolled in preschool and learned to speak English and ride a bike and fly on his scooter alongside Evan. My daughter-in-law excelled in school and got her green card. This was beyond a dream come true.

At the same time, this year my career fell apart. I now had two little kids to take care of, and as they adjusted to this new living situation, there was a lot of love/hate. Lots of slammed doors and yelling and making up. My days were filled with time-outs and potty-training and driving to and from two schools. Between them and my activist work, I had no time to write, or do much of anything else, but at least I had work coming up. And then all the work I had booked for the summer began to cancel...boom, boom, boom like dominoes falling, until everything was gone. And with Aya and Ayumu returning home, we had two more mouths to feed. I started hustling, sending out hundreds of resumes, sending my new book out hoping to sell it- and nothing. I was crushed. Scared. Broke.  Though Troy was working 6 to 7 days a week, our bills had doubled and soon we were upside down financially. Our ship was sinking.

There were many fearful days I thought we wouldn't make it. I worried we would lose everything. We had to cut loose a few things just to stay afloat; mine and Troy's super-expensive health insurance and our home phone line were a few of the casualties of summer. I feared our house would be next. But what happened was that those times drove me to my knees, which was exactly where I needed to be.

I immersed myself in prayer and meditation. I prayed for courage and wisdom. I prayed for balance. I prayed to find my way out of fear and back to faith. My prayers (or thoughts, whatever works for your belief system) were once again answered. Stepping out of fear restored me, and though we still didn't have the money we needed to right our ship, I felt peace, and chose to believe that it would all work out.

When I focused on the lack and the problems, it only grew larger, looming over me every waking moment, keeping me up at night. But when I put my focus on gratitude, when I put my energy into faith, I slept. I felt happier. I breathed easier. And though the bills were piling up, I stayed present in the moment. I reminded myself: The lights were on. We had food in the cupboards, coffee brewing in the morning. In the present moment, we were okay.

So here we are at the end of the year. Thanks to Troy's hard work, our bills are getting paid down. We are stable. And in a few days, our family's new healthcare plan kicks in. Obamacare is saving us $700 a month- this is a life changer!

Winter came, miraculously, with an unexpected free trip with the kids to Vegas and Disneyworld (thanks Wilson Phillips), and then a free trip to Jamaica for my 50th birthday. Free! These were events I could not have possibly imagined six months ago. The year ended with my daughter getting her Masters degree in psychology, and a new job possibility for me.

Do I believe in the power of prayer? Hell, yeah.

I also believe deeply in the power of our thoughts, our intentions, and our words.

2013 was both my savior and my greatest adversary. But I know that every adversary is a great teacher.

Here is what 2013 taught me:

Everything eventually works out, somehow.
I am always okay.
Life regenerates after loss.
Fear and worry is a HUGE waste of time.
Asking for what I want from life, and believing I deserve it, is essential.
Daily gratitude is as important as oxygen.
Love heals everything. Period.

And the biggest lesson of all: No matter what each year may bring, there is always a gift. Always. 

In that spirit, I greatly anticipate 2014, and vow to embrace every moment. I will stay rooted in gratitude and love, be clear with my intentions and my words, and keep exercising that faith muscle.

I am grateful for the beautiful circle of people (all of you) that surround my life, and the love that holds me up. I hope to do the same for you.

Here's to a beautiful 2014. Let's embrace it- all of it.

Reclaiming Joy, Part 2

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Letting Go of What Doesn’t Serve Me:

Recently I read a story about a nun who had prayed every day for 30 years for God to take away a lifelong problem she’d had. Finally, one morning as she was praying once again, she heard a gentle voice in her head- I can’t take it unless you give it up.

Give It Up:

I can’t get rid of any problem that I’m not willing to release. Most of us hold tight to our grudges, our worries, our problems, our conflicts. On some level, we are addicted to them. I used to have a strange subconscious (deeply subconscious) belief that worrying about my kids would keep them safe, like some kind of bass-akwards prayer. But now I know that worry is like praying for something I don’t want. Unless we are in this moment hanging from a cliff by our fingernails, our problems aren’t really problems anyway. Most of our “problems” are created in our mind, where we are fixated on something in the past, or worried about something that might possibly (but probably not) happen in the future. How do worry and negativity serve my life? How does anger, judgment or resentment make any situation better? Those emotions are like uninvited guests who live rent-free in my head.

In order to reclaim joy, I have to create space for it – I have to kick those Randy Quaid-like uninvited guests to the curb.

It’s Science:

Science has proven that nature abhors a vacuum, and that everything in the Universe is made of energy, including you and I. So when I release negative energy from my life, there is a vacuum that pulls something new and positive in.

Time and again I have seen proof that this works, and yet it’s so easy to slip back into old habits. So once again I’ve made a conscious choice to release negativity, worry, fear, insecurity and feelings of worthlessness. Already I’ve felt the immediate benefits of being more centered and calm. But life will always throw a few challenges. For instance, yesterday my phone line went out and my computer broke down. I had to cancel a conference call and lost a whole day of work.  It took 3 and 1/2 hours at the Mac store to get my computer fixed. Needless to say this was not the day I had planned. Usually, I would be really upset, but what purpose would that serve? I decided to release being upset and be at peace with the situation I was given. When I released the negative emotion, some wonderful blessings flowed in to fill that space. Instead of working, I was able to go hiking in the beautiful mountains, spend time with friends and have some really inspiring and uplifting conversations. It turned out to be a great day.

Letting Go:

This is my favorite one-minute meditation. I close my eyes and slow my breathing, listening to the rhythm of my breath, accepting all the background noises as part of my natural surroundings. Then, I let go of all my problems for one second. In that one instantaneous moment, I feel a shift. This is the most transformative one-minute meditation, and anyone can do it. I did it this morning and feel like I just had a mini-vacation. 

Go on, try it. Let your worries go for one second.  Just one second. See if your mind allows you to do it. (Don’t worry, they’ll still be there after the second has passed.)

If you are resistant to trying this one-second experiment, ask yourself why? Are you hesitant to let go of your problems and let joy occupy that space?

If you tried it, please comment below and let me know how it felt. I'd love to hear!

*For more on this, read my blog: What I'm Giving Up
 

Reclaiming Joy, Part One

 

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"We can not solve our problems with the same level of thinking that created them"

-Albert Einstein

For months now, I have been in a funk. And then I got sick of it. This is how it started.

All year I had been looking forward to summer. I was going to be teaching workshops in Costa Rica (at a five-star resort in the rainforest), Woodstock and Berkley, and my husband and I had been gifted a free trip to Jamaica for our anniversary in August. I was giddy with anticipation.

And then every one of those events cancelled…boom boom boom. And on top of the profound disappointment, I was scrambling to replace the work and income I’d lost. I sent out resumes all summer and didn’t get a single reply. Instead of teaching and lounging in hot tubs in exotic places, my summer days were spent mediating fights between my 3 and 7 year old, scouring the want ads unsuccessfully for writing gigs, playing “bill-roulette” and feeling completely defeated. And then I got a string of rejection letters on my new book. And my dishwasher broke and I didn’t have the money to fix it, so I was up to my elbows every day washing dishes by hand. And the worst of it, people I loved were fighting cancer and I was helpless to stop it. All of this in 105 degree weather.

It turned out to be a crummy summer and I was miserable. But I know that happiness is a choice. I had to stop focusing on all that had gone wrong and change the way I was thinking.

The first thing I had to do was to unplug from all negativity. On top of the frustration and helplessness I was already feeling, I sure didn’t need bad news pounded into my head.

I unplugged from the internet except to check in once a day- I did not read the facebook newsfeed or look at pictures of abused dogs in shelters or read about toddlers accidentally being shot with their fathers’ guns.

I turned off NPR (the hardest thing to do) because sometimes you just have to take a break from hearing about body counts and wars all over the world.

I didn’t allow anyone else’s negativity come into to my sacred space.

I played music all day, every day.

I read uplifting books that made me feel anything was possible.

I prayed for my loved ones, meditated and practiced yoga.

I got outside in nature every day, even if for a short time. 

It didn't cost me a dime to walk by the bay, but it was more valuable than therapy.

And for the first time in months, I FELT GREAT. I was happy and energized again. I was more patient with the kids. More patient with myself. More confident that somehow everything would be okay.

Once I was back in this positive space, things started to flow again. I got offered four gigs, plus a copywriting job. I was able to heal a friendship that had been fractured for five years. Two agents asked for my manuscript. My loved ones were managing and maybe even healing cancer.

I am now thinking more clearly, feeling hopeful. Everything once again feels possible.

So I have decided to continue with this. For the next couple weeks, I am going to write about the steps I’m taking to reclaim joy. I hope you’ll join me on this journey.

What's New?

A few people have written to ask why I haven’t been blogging much lately, and the simple, wonderful answer is – because my prayers were answered and I now have a three year old underfoot 24/7. In addition, Evan is out of school, so every day it’s the two of them loving each other one minute, squabbling the next, and I am the referee. Also I’ve been doing some freelance writing work to help pay the bills (which have grown along with the family), sending my new book out to agents, plus helping my daughter in law, who is living with us, to get established in the US. I’ve been taking her on school tours, helped her do all her financial paperwork, get a credit card, etc… It’s been busy.

We are still trying to figure out how this new family configuration works, and most days it’s wonderful--Aya and I love cooking together, hiking and taking the kids out to ride bikes. But it’s also a huge life change, chaotic, full of new challenges, and we are all searching for balance. I haven’t been able to write at all, which makes me crabby. Evan has had some behavior regression with the new changes; he’s developed fears, nightmares and clinginess to me (common behaviors in kids when there is a “new baby” in the family). I’m overwhelmed, but grateful.

In the middle of all these new changes I found out that my father, with whom I have a complicated, almost nonexistent relationship, has cancer. Today he had surgery in Houston. I am praying for his spiritual and physical healing, and for myself to come to a place of peace with what is, and what isn’t. This is still a tough one for me. 

Group hug in Texas with my dad, brother T, and nephew Jordan.

So many of you have prayed for my grandson to return, and I thank you. My heart is so full, so happy, with my family back together. Every day I get up and thank God for this second chance. And many of you are now praying for my father, and again, I can’t thank you enough. I feel your good wishes and love.

So, that’s it in a nutshell with me. What’s new with all of you?

The Best Days of Your Life

The first moment reuniting with Ayumu at the airport

Today is May 18th. It's early morning and my grandson Ayumu is at the kitchen table doing a puzzle with my son Evan. And what is extraordinary about this? My daughter in law and grandson had return tickets to Japan yesterday.

They are staying, at least for now, while she works on renewing her green card. For those who have been following my blog for a while, you know this is a miracle that I have prayed for steadily for a year and a half (the backstory is here).

A year ago, I was so deep in grief over losing my grandson, it was nearly impossible for me to see today as a possibility. This is the point of my blog today. Sometimes when we are mired in a problem, we can't imagine a positive solution exists. But we have to remind ourselves that when the sun is hidden behind the clouds, it doesn't cease to exist. We just can't see it for a while. There is truth in the old saying, everything will be okay in the end. If it isn't okay, it isn't the end.

I don't mean to minimize the validity of anyone else's hardship. There are deep and painful experiences that we all endure at some point in our lives. Death, illness, loss. I've been there. These things weigh heavy on us, change us forever. But even when we are drowning, there is a shore somewhere. If we don't give up, we will get there eventually.

One thing I know for sure- to be happy, I have had to move out of fear and into faith. I've had to give up my negative thinking and open myself to possibility. I have had to pray like crazy, and believe. And never has there been a downside to this.

The truth is that no matter how bleak a situation may be at the time, some of the greatest experiences in our lives haven't even happened yet. I could not have imagined my grandson at my kitchen table doing a puzzle on May 18th. When I think back, ten years ago I could not have imagined becoming a mom again in my 40s, and having a grandson. Think back to ten or twenty years ago in your own life. Could you ever have imagined some of the beautiful things that have happened since? Life is so full of possibility.

And here is another possibility to ponder:  Some of the best days of your life still lie ahead. Isn't that a beautiful thought?

My son Taylor with his son Ayumu, my son Evan, and our Ben, enjoying a sweet moment.

“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…)

Throw Love at It

My friend Mary gives the best advice. Over a year ago, I sat in her front yard with tears in my eyes, and told her that my daughter in law and grandson were not coming back from what was supposed to be a visit to Japan. I told her I feared the worst – I may never see my grandson again.

Mary put her hands on my shoulders, looked me in the eye and said this.

“Love her through this. No matter what happens, just love her.” I got chills, because I knew she was in one of those inspired moments, when a Universal truth pulses through us. And then she gave me the longest, bestest Mary-hug, and I left her house feeling stronger.

I followed Mary’s advice. I loved my daughter-in-law. I sent her love in emails, packages, and letters, but mostly I sent love in the prayers I said for her and Ayumu every morning. For over a year, I continued to pray and meditate every day, because I didn’t know what else to do. And the side result is that so many good things have begun to happen in my life since I became diligent about this. I can’t prove that there is a God, or guardian angels, or saints. But if God is Love than I can safely say I believe in God. And I do know without doubt that approaching a fearful situation with love makes it better, and easier to bear. This has now become the rule in our house. When we are faced with a challenge, we say “throw love at it”.

And this is how I know it works…

A few weeks ago my husband Troy wrote this beautiful song for Ayumu. He poured all the love in his heart into it and sent it to Japan.

Suddenly, something shifted. Our daughter in law contacted us to say that on April 14^th ... she will bring Ayumu to America for a one-month visit. In two weeks, I will hold our beautiful grandson in my arms again.

The last time I held him, he was 18 months old. Now he is almost 3. He speaks Japanese, and I speak English, but I’m not worried about that. Love is the Universal language.

This morning when I prayed, this is what I said.

Thank you

Thank you

Thank you

Thank you to Mary for her wisdom.

Thank you to my husband for his music.

Thank you to all my friends, Erin, Beth, Dani, Amy, Julie, who held me together through this when it was unbearable. 

Love makes everything bearable. 

Love makes everything possible.

*The backstory is here: A Heart Breaks Slow

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.”