2. You look for “that” pony and the bridle AND the saddle in the big ole pile of manure -confident that they will all be found in there somewhere!

3. More often than not, you are willing to look for what your part is in any given situation. Might as well..saves time in karma…

4. People and places that used to bother you just plain ole don’t anymore, much like they are just part of some far off dream that you used to have.

5. You feel good when it’s good and sad when it’s sad and understand better how to go ahead and laugh through your tears anyway.

6. You are more willing today to call out the monster from the closet than you ever have been before.

7. Being tacky to someone else just doesn’t feel good at all anymore. Dang it!

8. Likewise, “sliming” about someone else to anyone within earshot who’ll listen (just doesn’t feel as good anymore)…

9. You’re willing to show all of who you are most of the time to anyone and most of all to yourself.

10. You “get it” that you are simultaneously the most important person in the world and the least important person in the world. So now what?!

2. You were never your “outside” appearance. You’ve always been the person who shows up inside day-after-day.

3. There is no such thing as a “temporary fix” for your diet!

4. or your boyfriend/girlfriend

5. or wife/husband

6. Rent-a-cars usually have a sticker that, that is what they are..somewhere…

7. At least one false fingernail will always pop off and usually at the most inopportune time!

8. Do not get any drastic hair style change the day before your reunion.

9. Take a list of phone numbers of people who you love and trust that you can touch base with throughout the weekend of your reunion.

10. Be curious. These people are all just “characters” from a play you labeled as “High School”…..

Re-re as we affectionately call our girl, is a 7 and a half year old Black Lab with the usual Lab easy-going temperment and mostly only wanting to please us so that we are happy and ideally, happy enough to pet her often.

Because of Reality’s mindfulness we’ve been able to walk her off leash (whereas Paul, our young Aussie is bridled in with a harness) as we walk through our neighborhood. Lately though, Reality has taken to the sport of antagonizing a neighbor’s fenced in small savagely yippy dogs as they move in a rough and tumble congregation of snarling teeth, fur, tails and claws along the fence where we walk. Re-Re finds it great fun to run up to their fence to set them off and then run back across the road to join us peeing and marking her territory all along the way.

One particular day, I noticed a horse back rider ambling down the street. I don’t think Reality (or Paul for that matter) have ever come up across a horse and so I sent out the “come” command for Reality to join us. With a gleam in her eye and a giggle at her muzzle she instead took off in the opposite direction to set off the fur patrol only this time when she darted back across the street to join us about five seconds later the horse was upon her.

When she looked up and saw the horse, many many ideas and opinions must of crossed her mind with the predominant one being HOLY S$%@! She tucked her rear under her belly and laid her ears limp along her head with the biggest whitest eyes I have ever seen running straight for us.

I know there is a lesson in here somewhere for me about listening to the higher voice within me even when I “think” I know what is best to do…it helps me to picture 90 pound Reality tucking and running towards me to stop and really listen.

Such as, why is this writing down my soul stuff important? And, what questions do I need to be asking you God.

As usual, I had a montague of dreams that were shooting through my consciousness too fast for me to slow down until one scene. In this one scene I felt very afraid and I was screaming and then looked into a big mirror with a gold frame–still screaming–only to see someone else’s face so I shook my head a few times and then saw my own face. What was powerful about this was that the minute I saw my own face, I relaxed and calmed down and felt that internal peace. I also felt the loving presence of God behind me whispering into my ear that I was loved and that all was well.

Seems pretty significant to me. I’ve never “seen” my reflection within a mirror in a dream before. Maybe I can look for my hand next time?!

May you find that inner calm peace and self-love today and know that all is well in the present moment.

I do know that I feel a deep response to helping the men and women who are returning from the war zone to help them acclimate back into society and to find jobs. Perhaps it is because I am an Air Force brat, perhaps it is because I overcame my own decades long battle with PTSD, it could even be that because I never had children many of the people serving in the war are the age that my children could have been. Whatever the reason, I want to help.

After much convincing from my husband, I finally watched “The Hurt Locker” movie. The movie was written by Mark Boal who is a freelance writer who was embedded with a bomb squad. It is about a U.S. Army EOD team.

The movie seemed very realistic to me without beating us over the head with the horror and gore–it simply laid everything out as it could happen in real time. What impacted me the most was the way the main character was portrayed as a very competent cowboy soldier (renegade?) as he detonated bomb after bomb in very risky situations and then observing him upon his return to the U.S. walking down the aisles of an empty supermarket with overwhelming choices and piped in Muzak.

What I would like to say is that even though I have never been to war that I feel out of place walking down the aisles of a supermarket with overwhelming choices and piped in music. I feel like I’m inside of a science fiction novel and it isn’t even 2024.

Go see this movie. I did wear earplugs because I knew the loud sounds would rattle me, do what you need to take care of yourself but go see it and then find a way to be of service. Wake up and open up, this is your life too.

This hadn’t been my experience yet. In the past, I have had the feeling of something else besides me using my pen to create poetry or prose but in this particular writing exercise I hadn’t experience that. Yet. 

I began today’s letter with, “Dear God, I turn my pen over to you” and then began writing and forgot about that until I got midway through my writing and “something” or “someone” began responding with “Lynn” and then amazing wisdom about receiving and manifesting. Ideas and questions that I have been asking this voice within about for  awhile now and trying to reconcile asking for more than I already have with being grateful and accepting and humble. 

The piece that I want to share with you that I hope will be helpful for you is what the voice said about receiving. It said, “the bullets of your desires, when shot from the center of your heart, have been received.  You will manifest all that you have asked for and this time you have the connection with me to know how to handle and transcend the energy.  Enjoy what is yours and know that all these gifts come from me so the intense energy of receiving all that your heart desires can be sent back through me for dissemination.  You do not have to do that, it is not your work.  Your work is to receive and enjoy and show others what is possible for them when they are mindful and focused on their heart’s desires. All things come through me, all things are created from love for the purpose of love. It is what happens with these gifts when they are in the hands of the human ego that makes the difference. Love, God’.

Hookay.  nuff said…..

My dogs began sniffing my face out to see if something was the matter with me as I sat at the kitchen table, drinking my coffee and listening to Mike while bursting out laughing often.  

I thought about the times in my life when things were so bad or dark that you’d either have to kill yourself (or someone else) or laugh and the many, many comedy routines that I made up in my head to laugh off the monster in the room.  There were many times during my tenure as a high school boarding student at a military (mandatory for the guys) Baptist (not that there is anything the matter with that) that comedy routines were the best outlet for diminishing the horror that befell us.  We laughed often and loudly with each other.

But even before then, there were incidents in my childhood that still stick out in my mind.  Such as right after my parents divorce in the late sixties.  My brother was about 9 then and all skin and bones with a big head of blonde hair and big brown eyes.  We went from living in an upper middle class neighborhood that was teetering very close to Ozzie and Harriet land to living in a rustic farm house on forty acres (which today, by the way, I would love!).  Our mom changed over night from a woman with a plastered beehive hairdo and Lacoste clothes to free hair (though she always worried with her bangs), blue jeans and t-shirts. She also took up smoking, which for her was an anomoly since she was always a health nut. We teased her constantly about not holding the cigarette correctly in her mouth. 

During this time, my brother and I, along with my mom and her roommate, also a jeans wearing free spirit–would pile into our station wagon with one or two dogs and take off to explore the great outdoors.  Why, with all the good music out at that time, Mom and her roommate loved Helen Reddy we will never know but it may have had something to do with Helen’s anthem “I am woman”.  Mom hadn’t quite gotten the courage to burn her bra but she would play Helen often and loudly in the 8 track tape player in our car.

Returning from one of these particular outings, my skinny blonde headed brother and I were sitting in the way back seat of the station wagon feeling pretty out of sorts as we watched mom and her friend smoking cigarettes incorrectly and trying to look cool with their free hair and blue jean jackets while, of course, listening to Helen Reddy.  It was then at the exact moment when Helen was to belt out “I am Woman” that my brother belted out “I am MAN” as loudly as he could albeit crackly and popping from his straining nine year old vocal chords. 

There was about a 1/2 minute of pure silence and then mom cracked up laughing.  My brother had done it again, he had created the opportunity to laugh at the unspoken monster in the room and helped everyone else to laugh at it as well.

That is such a small example but I write this now because it was decades ago and it still is fresh in my mind (as well as my brother and mom’s) as if it happened yesterday because of the way my brother gave us all a chance to ease the tension of our lives through laughter.  I’m grateful that one of the gifts I picked up in my family was to create laughter out of chaos in the chaos.  It’s so much easier for me to hear the truth when I can ease the tension through laughter.

How have you laughed at the monster in your room?

I’ve always been fascinated by group psychology and how when “one or more of us are gathered” a separate invisible entity is created. The jury is still out as to whether this entity is a good thing or a bad thing…..

For years politicians, marketers, advertisers, sales people have used this group entity to manipulate and spin for their gains.  I call it the Lemming Principle which is the idea of group persuasion that if one strong leader decides it’s a good idea to run and jump off the edge of a cliff–the group will follow.  Then we have the icons that represent the idea that the group has been fed to believe such as Michael Jackson, Farrah and GM to name a few.  I remember listening to Michael Jackson when I was in junior high and having a secret crush on him since most of my friends were into white rock bands at the time.  Then in high school, Farrah came along with her gorgeous mane of hair and of course I, along with all my girlfriends, curled and shaped our hair as best we could to look like Farrah’s.  I streaked my brown hair blonde and tried to get the darkest tan possible but couldn’t make my brown eyes blue.

Then when I was in my early twenties, Michael came back around again only bigger than before. Even some good guy friends, who happened to be white rockers, loved the “Thriller” album. In fact, one of my fondest memories was rocking to MJ as my best friend and I stood up dancing in the back bed of a pick up that one of our boyfriends was driving alongside the Guadalupe River on the way to a thrilling weekend of camping and tubing.

What I realize now is that there was always this vague uneasiness to buying into the whole world loving Michael Jackson and Farrah. In fact, I remember worrying about how Michael was going to handle his amped up celebrity when the Thriller album came out.   Soon, both of these beloved icons, who we often forgot were people just like us, were pushed off their pedestals and stoned for their human frailties. 

And then, of course, their is GM.

So when do “we” individually take responsibility for our part of creating these icons and what they represent.  When do we step back to question what our contribution was to their demise?

Unity is a value that is very dear to my heart and an idea that I realize that I need to explore more fully so that I can understand when “we” step off from being united in love to going to sleep in our egos.

All in all, I believe many of us are waking up and growing in huge leaps and bounds simultaneously.  Let us not forget the individuals as we collectively reach out to the unity of each other.

Rest in Peace Michael and Farrah.

Meanwhile the ocean continues to wave on. David and I took an hour long walk on the beach today and saw a whole lotta different versions of sea gulls and cranes. I tried to find a friend from college’s beach house that used to be right off of Beach Road 2 but there is so much new development that I don’t know where to look. We had many good times in that house of hers. Tracy and her three sisters came from Goliad, Texas where we would always stop for a nite’s stay on the way to the beach for spring break. Their Dad was a Lone Star Beer distributor so the girls would always pile cases and cases of beer into Tracy’s old station wagon for our beach excursion. I could never keep up with their drinking without getting really sick. Lightweight that I was back then….now 32 years later and almost 19 years sober, I am still coming to the beach with friends and enjoying it so much. Most likely even more now that I can pay attention to everything going around me and the people that I am vacationing with.

Last night we played a mean game of Mexican Train Dominoes. I am holding out as the winner although we stopped at “3’s” and so we still have three more sets to go through before I can claim my official title as Mexican Train Dominoe Queen.

We listened to all kinds of good music that the guys had downloaded. Crystal and Ric love Herb Albert and the Tiquana Brass just as much as I do; however, Steve was chagrined. He kept telling us about the Muswell Hillbillies and then this morning clarified that this was what the Kinks were known by back before they were the Kinks. I liked the music.

This is good for me to get away and get back near the beach and to be in community with friends. Especially friends who make me laugh so hard that my cheeks were hurting last night.

I suspect that this kind of get away would be good for you as well. It’s always important and good to break away from our day-to-day routines of life and see life through a different set of eyes.

Have to go for now. We’re about to chow down on some fresh fish, roasted potatoes and squash and a big ole salad with garden fresh vegetables.

Where are you going next?

I’ve never had an Australian Shepherd before, but I was aware that the breed was known for being smart. Paul was a little over 3 months old when we brought him home from the pound. We knew we had a happy, bouncing pup but also realized that he probably should have come with his own herd of miniature Alpaca Goats to herd. Referring to his being ADD-like does not begin to cover his energy coupled with a quick attention span. My husband and I both failed our obedience classes (respectively). We just didn’t make the time (or have the energy) to put into the homework training for our little guy. I often apologize to Paul that I don’t have a ten year old child that he can go with to bounce and play!

With that said, we are finally getting used to each other now (we go on lots of long walks!) and Paul is paying attention to commands and words so much so that I have to pay attention to what the heck I’m telling him (i.e. saying, “go get your chew toy” while on the commode to make him go away will only invite him to actually go get his chew toy and bring to the bathroom and await for my next command….). Recently I was sent yet another YouTube video of a smart dog (Aussie!) who would only fetch the ball on his master’s specific command. I really know that Paul is smart enough to carry off training like that and that it is me who has to learn how to train so that he can win.

Therein lies the lesson of Paul 101.

When I told Paul that night that we were going to learn a new “trick”, he jumped to rapt attention (how the heck did he learn the word “trick” so quickly?!). I put him on a sit stay, walked 10 feet away and made sure he was staying, placed the chew toy at my feet and then stood up. After a few seconds I released him to retrieve the toy. Oh what great fun we both had?! Of course he wanted to do it again. We repeated it a few more times but then he got bored after awhile without the game changing up. My initial goal was to get him to the point where I could go into the next room and “hide” the toy for him to find after being on a sit-stay. After all, this was a game I played with my Golden Retriever who loved it! Upon contemplating this further I realized that my ultimate game might only create real anxiety in Paul since what he was bred to do, the very nature of his breed, is to keep his eyes on the flock at all times, gather up the stray lambs and bring everyone home (we may end up with a herd of goats yet!) I am now thinking up new games to play with him that accentuate his purpose on this Earth rather then create anxiety when there really need not be any.

What I also realized was that it is so obvious for me to see what Paul’s purpose is and what he was bred to do. I wonder if that is how we people are as well. Put’s a new spin to thinking about what breed of dog you would be if you were a dog. In many ways, I believe I’m a Shepherd. I love to have a good day’s work to do. I certainly would eat the fur off my back (if I were a dog…) if I sat around all day with no real purpose.

Why would we treat ourselves any differently? What were you naturally born into this world to do and how can you do more of that which you are here to do?