The Job

I am coming to learn

(oh, it has taken such a long time! I forget my lessons everyday! I leave my school books out in the rain ... )

I am slowly coming to learn

That my Job

is simply to Love these people

(which people, you ask? All these freaking people, I shout, all of them!)

It is no easy task!

But it is easier,
so very, very much easier,

than anything else.

Last Sand Castle

My older daughter, Alia, began Kindergarten today! (She now insists that we call her "Ali," actually.) So Ali went to Kindergarten.

That was exciting and everything. We walked to school. We took lots of pictures. I shed a tear, being touched. And then went and drank a lot of coffee (no decaf around, for some reason) with all the other crying parents on the school blacktop. I left the school quite wired, and a bit puffy eyed.

It's been a big day. Ali loved her class and teacher and new friends. But I think I may remember yesterday, somehow, more.

Yesterday was a special day. Ali and I sent my husband and newly-three toddler home and stayed behind in Santa Cruz. We cleaned up our "beach cottage" and went for lunch at Gayle's Bakery in Capitola. Gayle's is quite famous in these parts, for baking and such, and Capitola Village is a little beach-side hamlet straight out of a Thomas Kinkade painting. We walked into the Village along the Soquel River, along the quaint vacation rentals, and run-down beach shacks with their grassy patios and decomposing patio furniture along the water.

We got to the beach and built a sand castle amidst the "seaweed fleas" (Ali's name) that were buzzing around at water's edge. Without the right tools, the castle was very, very round and very organic looking. Free range, let's say. The flies loved it, and moved in right away.

I had told Alia that the day was a Celebrating Day. And she had said, "But there's no cake or balloons or anything about celebrating!"

And I said, "You know, celebrating can just be doing something a little different, like having a special lunch together, or cooking something special, or going out to look at the moon. Or spending special time together."

We both got a little sun burned at the beach, 'cause we had no beach stuff or sunscreen. And as the day grew warmer in the afternoon, I knew we were supposed to hit the highway soon ... to get Ali home and into bed and "ready" for her big day at school.

But I let go of time, for the time, being, and we walked all through the Village, and Ali bought a Minnie Mouse clock at a second hand store, to "wake her up" for school (no alarm, though). And we meandered, and wondered, and held hands, and then, finally, reluctantly, got in the car, and drove home.

I don't always see the charm in Capitola Village. It sometimes just looks like a tourist trap to me. But it's interesting what happens when we put our Celebration glasses on.

And first-day-of-school is something special, for sure. But so is every moment with our children, with each other, that we declare to be special.

I know school means a schedule now, and some milestones to achieve.

And, somehow, the free ranging thinking and feeling of summer, seems more important to me on this day. The Me and My Girl moments, that nourish us both ... in ways that are impossible to measure.

Yesterday

Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so ... in my face!

Yesterday, everything I had was not enough. Everything I am "supposed to do" was nothing I wanted to do. I did not want to be a mother, a wife, a daughter, an "Executive Director." It was not clear to me that Life itself in any form would be enough. There was fatigue, sadness, anxiety. Where was the connection with my children? I was going through the motions. Doubt. Guilt. Morbidity.

And, in the midst of it all, I could see, like the slightest glimmer of light reaching through the cracks at the edge of a dark door ... I could see that it was all just Fine. Terrible thoughts, dreadful thoughts, run-away-to-Mexico thoughts. All Fine.

When the kids went to bed, I watched "Step Brothers" with my husband. Nothing to do, nowhere to run to ... No thoughts to even "get rid of."

And when I woke up this morning, the world was beautiful again, because my head was beautiful again.

And actually, the World, "Reality," was as it always had been.

And simply welcomed me Home, again.

You are safe, Darling! You just had a bad dream.

The Present

I am reminded that, although I have come a long way ...

There is still nowhere to Go.

The Attitude

"Find the feeling ... of being grateful."

--Mr. Sydney Banks, A/V materials (frequent theme in talks)

"Reality is always kind."

--Byron Katie

"If you imagine the universe is agitated, go out and look at the night stars."

--Lao Tzu

Last night, my husband and I were chatting about "Life," as it were/is/may be. There were some of the usual apparent difficulties, recessionary issues and etc.

I said to him, "See how the universe is being helpful to you."

"Yes," he said, "it's all in how you think about it."

And I said, no, "See how the universe is being helpful, not that you think it is, but that it is."

Which seemed quite different to me at the time.

Sydney Banks, who passed away on Memorial Day, talked often of gratitude as the doorway to inner knowledge. He told us all to be grateful for little things, big things, medium things, all things.

I am starting to see that gratitude shifts our thoughts toward how the universe supports us. A pause at a traffic light, a time for reflection. A child. (A child!) A soft hotel bed. A fresh breeze. Sunshine. A husband who comes home at 5 every day. A husband who stays late, working hard for his family. Time alone. Time together. A neck ache that puts you in bed for a rest.

As we shift our thoughts toward how the universe supports us, we begin to go beyond just experiencing the effects of "positive thinking" and toward the very Nature of the Universe and Reality.

Reality is Love, Intelligence, Power.

Reality is Love.

Reality supports us, as that is its nature. It could not fail to do so.

& if you seek, so shall you find ...

with Love,

Your Mystical Mama

Sydney Banks

Mr. Sydney Banks, author, philosopher, lecturer, father, husband, mystic, passed away in the morning, Memorial Day, May 25.

Mr. Banks' life and work demonstrated that an ordinary, uneducated person has access to unlimited reservoirs of Love and Intelligence.

In my own life, he showed me that what I thought was real, was not. And that this "boring old world" was full of mystery and miracle. What personal contact I had with him always brought great leaps of understanding and opened new realms for me of feeling and gratitude. Sometimes, in his presence, the world would tremble and wobble in my peripheral vision, & a great openness would happen within, a Spirit, a feeling, boundless in its magnitude--almost frightening--would descend. Then, it would be gone as quickly as it had come. Leaving a sense of promise of more to come ...

Mr. Banks was inordinately generous with his knowledge when he felt that someone sincerely wanted to learn. And his simple, workaday approach to mystical knowledge, his emphasis on "plain" positivity, hope and human kindness made an end to suffering possible for so many thousands of people--from professionals to inmates to young children.

It was always Mr. Banks' hope that the great helping fields of psychology and psychiatry--which nobly work to alleviate the world's suffering--would finally come to see the logic of his Divine principles: Mind, Consciousness and Thought. We experience what we think. And there is so much more in us than we know.

For more information, please see Mr. Banks' website at sydneybanks.org, or see any of his many books, including: The Missing Link: Reflections on Philosophy & Spirit, The Enlightened Gardener, The Enlightened Gardener Revisited, Dear Liza, and etc. Audiovisuals (DVD's, etc.) are at www.lonepinepublishing.com ... (Click on Self-Help or Psychology.)

Goodbye, Syd!

And Thank You.

I wish I'd had more time with you ...

When the Child Calls

When the Child calls

let her pull you in

(this time, at least)

Observe as she reaches for This Moment,

pulling it toward her, too

The sand, so different

there's a crunch-smoosh, crunch-smoosh

Each wave with its Name

& Spirit

The Beach! ... it is

Full of screams!

Shape shifting waters,

running, crashing, pulling,
each wave, pulling for Home
where all waves become One
after their brief lives, alone

(but not alone, really, were they?
This, the child knows)

And hot sand cools to warm sand &
wet & sticky sand

Sand crabs, broken shell
Sea gull, fetid smell

All awash in the freshest of breezes

(the Sea's is)

Maybe, a moment,

You will Live again

Play is just presence

The Child Within!

Who was with you, was you, all this time

(as wave with ocean)

Welcome back, my Friend!

Let's expect

More to come.


(Remember: He said,
You must be, He said,
Like the little children.)