Appearances vs. Realities

I've been dealing with appearances vs. reality a lot lately. I'm thinking that reason is to learn to be more real to myself. I have a dear and trusted friend from a very wealthy family, we have been inseparable for 7 years, we trust each other to a fault and rely on each other to help get us through the rough spots in life. He is the only person in my life who has seen the good, bad and the ugly parts of who I am, he loves me despite myself. Through out our relationship, there has been much opposition to our closeness. The problem here lays in gender issues, I am female, he is male, in some peoples minds, we certainly must be sleeping together. Sounds like a hot topic for a "Soap Opera". The way things look from the natural eye, could be interpreted this way.

Our story began as small children in the church our families both attended. Me a "Flaming red head", he, a "Shy doe headed boy" we were all of about 5 and 6 years old. Our fathers were leaders of our small community although my family was not wealthy by any means yet, "appeared" to be. Our parents, respected each other and I always felt welcomed into his family"s home. His mother invited me over and used to cook the most delicious meals and I always felt loved at her home. One of my most favorite memories of eating at their house was the omelet that she made for me, it was simple yet, I had never had anything like it in my life. It consisted of Swiss cheese and alfalfa sprouts, I approach it with much suspicion for at my house this was not a typical meal at all, we ate Cheddar cheese and I had never even heard of the sprout thing and they kind of looked like worms with a green tip. She consoled my worried mind and urged me to take a taste in the very sweetest way. I did and wasn't sorry, to this day it is still my most favorite omelet ever. Appearances once again, vs. reality. As we grew older, he remained painfully shy, never uttering a word in Sunday School, always looking at the floor never making eye contact with anyone. As we reached teenage years, I developed a crush on him, although he tells me now, how ugly he thought he was as a child, he was actually a very beautiful young man, just very quiet. I feel much sadness at thought, he knew not his own beauty. I, on other hand was quite out spoken and sure of myself. As we emerged into high school years, his parents sent him to a boarding school far-far away, so as not to have him be polluted by the common man, for his own protection. We moved on to separate lives. My father died when I was 16 years old in a car accident, which changed my whole life in a mere moment, from seemingly wealthy to a mere working girl, cock tailing drinks for men at a Supper Club by night and by day a student in high school. The Red head went from "riches to rags", from being catered too, to catering. The "Appearance" of being wealthy, gone in a flash.

As he moved through life, it took him to Colorado, where he attended college and did pretty badly at it, there he discovered drugs, girlfriends among other things and just kind of flunked out. One day on campus, he was approach by a religious group, in robed garb, telling him of a different kind of life he could be leading, full of hope for the hopeless, and a future for the lost," A Ticket to Heaven" would be the end result, only if he followed all the rules. He was "Special" and "Chosen". Off he went on the great adventure, his girlfriend told him if he left, he would never return, though he did not believe her. He packed very little, and took a feather blanket of hers to stay warm for the weekend, as she said, he never returned.

The Red head, being very sure of herself, afraid of nothing took a different path. When she was 17 years old, she met a fellow. Looking for security in life, after he father untimely death, he seemed to fit the bill. A handsome Italian young man, all of 17 although ,he lied about his age to her and represented himself as older. She told herself he was the "One"! Quick witted and charismatic, good looking to boot, yes, he fit the bill. Shortly after meeting him, she conquered him sexually, thinking this was love. How sad to have equated sex with love, it was the beginning for their life together, she thought he hung the "Moon". Shortly after meeting and dating, she realised that he had been seeing other girls at the same time, of course this hurt her deeply, after all he had, had sex with her. She decided to pursue him even more, to be better, sweeter, sexier than all the other girls, she followed him everywhere in adoration, overlooking all the signals that should tell a girl, she is not wanted or that"special". He even gave the disclaimer that he was not the "marrying type" but to her detriment she could not hear him. She convinced him they should move in together and they did, most of the time he never came home at night, she resolved it in her head that, he was a bartender they work late. She, herself was busy going to school and could overlook the lateness, she didn't want to upset the applecart and be alone again. "Abandonment" again may drive her over the edge, into the despair she felt when her father left so suddenly. She remembered how she was mad at God then, and jealous of girls who had fathers, she didn't want to go back to the empty feeling of having no love, so she would settle. It became apparent to her one evening in winter, when again she waited and he never came home, to get up out of bed to see if he were downstairs, maybe he was she hoped. As she traveled down the stairs, there were noises from the other bedroom, it must be the roommate and girl he picked up she thought...Hoped.... As she entered the living room there sat the room mate watching TV. She asked were he was, who was upstairs in the bedroom, the look on his face said it all, in a rage of hurt she opened the door to find two naked bodies, intertwined in passion, she screamed at the sight of unfaithfulness taking place in her very own home. The two unlocked the girl fled naked as fast as she could out the front door. Then of course there were real tears of sorrow from him and, a promise to never do it again.

The Princess Who Lost Her Crown

"There was a little girl who had a little curl right in the middle of her forehead, and when she was good she was very very good and, when she was bad she was horrid"Longfellow

A princess was born on Dec 7, 1961! She came into this world on a blustery, northern, ice-filled night. I'm not sure if she was wanted or welcome by both parents, one she knows surely cared and loved her deeply, her father. Upon arrival to her mothers arms, she was turned away by the person who by all means should have been celebrating on that day, the birth of a healthy baby girl. This child can't be mine! the mother said. Please go find my baby! proclaimed the mother, to the nurse holding, a long, light skinned, infant with shoulder length red hair. "She looks like a poor pitiful pearl doll", the mother said as she was handed the child,"And, by the way my husband and I both have brown hair, there is no way this child is mine. I'm sure by now the tiny brand new baby, anticipating the tender love and care of the mother she had listened to daily in the womb, was thinking how could this be happening?

How could the very being that conceived her for the past nine months, reject her at mere sight?

I'm sure the disappointment could be felt by all, mother, child and nurse. The nurse, reassured the mother that this was indeed her newborn babe, encouraging her to embrace the baby so that bonding would occur. On this day of which should have been happy, turned out to be a day of rejection, one of the most hurtful abandonment's of the child's life.

Thank God, there was more than one parent to take the responsibility, and care for this innocent, tender child. The father was elated to see the red hair, very familiar to him, his own mother was a red head and also a brother. On, the arrival home again, the mother proclaimed her rejection, this time by saying she did not know how to care for the baby. The father, took the child in his arms, diapered her tenderly, fed her and loved her, despite of the way she looked. He nurtured the infant, gave her all the love a parent could give the babe, and thus a "Bond" of deep trust, comfort and ease formed between them.

As life moved forward, as it always does, he began to call her his "Princess", he adored the little red headed girl, cherished her with his whole heart, she could feel this sweet unconditional love, and reveled in it. Years past and the bond between the two grew, to greater heights. Every year the birthday parties he threw for her were filled with the fantasies every child would crave, ponies delivered to the house for riding, stage coaches, each year bigger and better than the last. The mother became jealous of the love he showered on her, calling it spoiling the girl, this angered the mother greatly the child could feel it and clung to her father.

Rising From The Dead...Breaking Out of Isolation's Prison Cell

For the past 7 or so years, I have found myself to in state of oblivion, Purgatory if you will. Seemingly, I have felt stuck, like bugs on fly paper, unable to move from this plane of consciousness to the next. It becomes at times, very to depressing to have lost my 20/20 vision , I had in the mid nineties. Prolifically painting expressionistic creations, it seemed the mind of the universe and my simple mortal mind had a direct link that was never ending. Paintings came out of me, complete in content as well as color blocked in, straight from the mind of God. Daily and sometimes hourly, complete works of art came as visions, without even trying and in one single year I actually ended up with over 100 finished paintings. Looking back I realize that I had actually spoken it with my own words and mouth, into "Being". In the early nineties, tired of being a lowly waitress almost invisible to the people I was serving (unless their food was late or an order wrong) I became dis-enchanted with passing out food for a living, my body on auto-pilot started to feel disconnected to the people who were everywhere around me yet never saw me. Uneducated except for in the food service industry, I felt in my heart that I had more to offer the "human condition" than the mere delivery of hot food on hot plates, on time (This is not to put down anyone whom enjoys and makes a living waiting tables). As I went on my merrily way one day a thought kept coming through my head, at first I blew it off thinking it is as self-talk. The voice continued to speak to me with much authority, and told me that I should begin to tell my fellow waiters and waitresses and anyone else who would listen that I was becoming a great artist and one day they would meet me again and see that It was indeed true, also that I would be selling art all over the world. So I did, convincingly I started telling everyone, "That, I was a Great Artist". This verb age was met with much laughter and the reason being is, first of all I was uneducated in art and didn't even own paints or a paintbrush for that matter.

Turning Inside Out...

As I make my trek through this ever changing world, reconfiguring the "Horizon" of Great Mysteries, the Alchemist turns up the heat, burning the veils of obscurity off layer by layer. The process of letting go over and over burns away the dominating ego, cleanses all the way to the innards to find a golden soul, my ego's expectations and agendas melted away. The fires continue to address past abandonment's, betrayals and judgements of others that I used to hold onto with dear life, why I ask myself now? Was it simpler to be lost in the world of victim hood, blame, self-righteous-indignation? Was I too much of a wimp or chicken to pull myself up by the bootstraps, walk readily and bravely through through the "Fires of Carnal Life" to be rendered like fat off of bacon or plain metal into gold? Funny how we change our minds about what is truly important, these days of unbelievable growth in my spirit man cause me to reconsider marching straight through the Alchemy process, even the pain of burning the dross out of every fiber of my being. It seems to be the only true to ride to an ever unfolding, ever new and exciting plane of consciousness. With latent trust, I surrender to the Mystery once more in this lifetime, open the door to higher knowing, leaving behind the the lower mind's nearsightedness relinquishing myself and letting go of the idea of a victim hood and for all to see without regret the brilliance within me shining like gold from"turning the inside out".

The Dark Night Of The Soul...

As I enter the "dark night of the soul" once again. I realise, I have been here before, loneliness consumes me like a "wild fire", confusion is all around, were am I going, end up? Some sweet, tender voice in my head says to me"Let Go"! Don't struggle with the "Flow", let it take you to greater height's, .."Hold on loosely, but, Don't Let Go". Everything in me says , "Fight", yet the universe says don't." Let go of those things that no longer serve you!" , it beakons me on to what is seemingly is blinded by night. As I learn to be blind, feeling my way through this world, I feel scared, once again, "Alone", will I always feel this way? The question that I ask myself? Or will I find myself in the sweetness of a sunrise of a new day. I say to the universe, let me find myself once more at the end of the rainbow, where the pot of gold of myself lies waiting to be remembered.

Getting Beyond the Words..Metaphors,Learning to Eat Meat and Potatoes...

As a Child, I thought like a child. In the purest, most innocent way, never afraid to ask questions nor look deep into the eyes of the storyteller, whether they be spinning a yarn around a campfire or at Sunday School. With much ardent focus, believing and storing every " literal sense" of the "word" of God or even "Aesop's Fables", I never got the meat and potatoes part at all.

Sin, a New Concept....

What if someone jested with you, the idea that the true meaning of "SIN" is truly just an illusion. What if? Someone were to pull back the "veil "that obscures clarity and were able to change your mind about the reality you are living in now right where you are at, to one much more positive than you could ever imagine? Has your mind expanded enough to grow out of and shed a layer of "Dross" from worn out ideas, the heaviness of guilt and self-recrimination, that we throw upon ourselves on a daily, sometimes minutely basis. What would it feel like? To leave behind the tanned, worn out, hide? Beaten, far too long that it is no longer useful and throw it back to "Mother Earth" and let it return to "Dust" once again, just let it go, return to, from wince it came fortifying "Her" as it should. Are you willing and able to join me a "simple mortal", like all the rest of humanity, no better, no worse in an adventure of "The School of Life"? Come with me as I move to a place of higher knowing. A place of ever expanding, mind altering freedom where there is "Peace" and a sweet release from the earthly plane of consciousness. Take a trip and be filled with the all potential, fragile openness and a deep softening of the energies of "Mystery" that continue to seek me out and as I put it to "pen". I challenge you to take a "Fresh" new look into the possibility that maybe the word "SIN" is simply, innocently, unknowingly "Seeing In Natural" realms. It is high time I began to lay behind me, the outdated, misused verb age that has held me back for many lifetimes. To see that it no longer serves a true purpose in my life's journey through "Alchemy".

"Pan Land" and "The Lost Boys..."

Growing up in very large family, having seven brothers and one sister, you learn to live with others sharing everything from toys, bathrooms, space, chores, tears, laughter, even fists some of the time. My parents actually only "sired" and "birthed" five children of their own, myself being the eldest child. I fell into the role of big sister and sometimes little mother of my siblings, readily and relished in it.

Alchemy's Child....

Alchemy's Child was born on December 7th in the of 1961. On a blustery, winters night as a Nor'easter Storm blew it's wrath, unforgivably. Waves of ice piled upon on one another until the roads were nearly impassible. A young couple drove fervently towards a hospital, a baby doesn't wait even if mother nature is in full tantrum.

Messengers From God...so many forms...

I have a dear friend, I lovingly call my "Hummingbird"! She came into my life most unexpectedly in July of 2007. When we first met, she had an opinion of me based on other peoples opinion's and the ever more famous "Gossip Chain". She was brave enough to share how she felt about me, "A Wild, Un tameable Red Head", at this I laughed and, invited her to join me at my home, eat with my family, visit with an open invitation and form her very own thoughts about me. And that day we began our journey together to find each other out, warts and all. I am Thankful to the "God's" that be, to have opened her heart door, as well as mine in the very same instant, to wipe the slate clean of opinions of others, so we both can enjoy this adventure through life together. She continues to help me see the brighter things in life, more clearly always with a smile on her beautiful, radiant face, bubbling over with sweet innocent joy as she walks in my back door with big hugs and kisses.

Most recently, she held my hand at a funeral, it meant more to me than I could ever begin to express in words. The comfort it gave me, to stand with me and for me in this great sorrow, in front of the very ones who had talked about me was one of the greatest gift's I have ever been given

The Island of Respite...

I have an "Island of Respite", in my very own backyard, I purchased the house I live in, the month of April of 1998. As I searched for a perfect place for my family and I, several things kept coming to mind, "Nature", "Family", "Ease", "Comfort". I knew I would be living in this house and it would be ours, from the very moment I walked into the backyard. The "Secret Garden", beckoned me, to realize the potential future, the place I now call my"pocket sanctuary"

The Great Engima....

Over the years, my views on God have evolved. Being a well "churched" girl, my young fragile openness towards God in my still very small world, I looked in "Awe" at "Him". A funny thing looking back on it now, calling God, "Him". Like a child delights in a scavenger hunt, I continue to take the challenge to play detective, reaching out into the unknown. Having "Foolish Faith", curiosity, uncertainty and yielding in absolute trust, I move forward sometimes with frustration, on the ever expanding definition, that still leaves me in "Awe" of "The Great Enigma". A voice cries out in my mind's eye to let go of the rational mind, be infused with guidence in this to uncover this "mystery"of the human condition.