Friday's Writers

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The Boys who Bleed for You

My mother wept the day I signed my name. My heart swelled when I raised my right hand. Against all enemies I swore. God help me. Some of us never need to shave; Doughboys to the bone. Minutemen are we; always ready. Essayons! Semper Tentare! Do you know, we are all numbers, but we all have names. Every mother's son of us is ready to bleed and die for your sake. It is our fight that allows you to burn the flag you're holding. That flag is dyed with the blood of patriots and may it ever be so. I would have it no other way. To show the world. The brother in my foxhole never kissed a girl, never drank a beer, and he's ready too. We all stand. We are true. Our families know; we are the boys who bleed for you.

My father told me he was proud, even as I saw the shores of Grenada in his eyes. He turned away so I would not see that salty wave crash down his cheeks. He sent me on my way, with three old men behind him, behind me. The chain has not broken, five generations strong. the boys who bleed for you. We all have names; please don't forget us.

written by:  Stephen “Shadowdancer21b”



I am moving to Colorado Springs for an aerospace gig, but do not want to lose my writing! I am pasting part of a book I started a few months ago, as well as an attachment of all my writings over the last 14 months or so. Love to get your feedback! Happy to have a friend in you. Thanks!

Wanted to show you my beautiful dog, Atlas, as well as beautiful girlfriend, Tanya.

May 22, 2009

I was going to call the Landlord…

I was going to call the Landlord….

The tree is dead.

The tree that must have a millennium of rings inside it.

Me, plus three, could not even link our arms around it.

All the other trees have leaves, the flowers are blossoming, the bees are buzzing, but my tree, it’s dead.


Did it not get the water?

That’s my neighbors fault, as they are responsible now for its roots that have grown underground into their lives.

That’s not my fault.

I can not control its roots.

I can not control the water that spews from my neighbor’s yard.

But do they know?


It is my tree, in my yard, embracing my life with its wisdom and glory.

Why do I not tell them to water their yard, as it will supply life for my tree, for me?

How dare I ask such selfish things!

So I sit and watch my tree die.

Why am I so fearful to just ask?


I ponder up schemes to jump my neighbor’s fence with a hose as my weapon.

A weapon for the cure and water their yard, bring life to my tree.

But, I can not do that.

That is invasive, intrusive, illegal perhaps?

They are good neighbors.

They will do the right thing.

They have to see my tree with no leaves, no life.

Or do they?


They have their own busy life, their own trees to look after.

I glance out my window.

Their trees are young with roots in their yard.

They are blossoming, they have leaves…why?

Nourishment! I am witness.


Their trees, especially at such a young age, could not survive without water.

It is their life blood.

My neighbors are watering their trees.

I look back at my tree, without leaves, and I speak to the oneness of life.

Tree, you are not dead. You are a mother feeding others.

And the next day the tree, my tree, had leaves.


June 2, 2009

Blinded by Vision

Open your eyes. Blinded by vision? Perhaps, instead, it is a new way of seeing. The universe drops so much in our lap, but really it is a giving. “Here take this!” God says, “I give it to you as you are worldly and can make it so."  What is it? They are like pieces to a puzzle, but in truth, it is the life you are building by these amazing pieces that have been given to us. Perhaps they do not always fit just right, some may stink, some ill-colored,  but then God gives us scissors, a wash cloth and soap, paint and brushes, a hammer, a tool to make it fit and expand it to where the next piece is. The process of the fitting is sometimes the actual growth. God gives us unfinished gifts, so he can let you shape them.

Never limit your capabilities because God threw a lot at you at once. He probably did so because he knew you could handle it, or you weren’t quiet enough to listen to the Universe, so God HAD to be loud. Being quiet has always been hard for me, so the Universe, God and Angels have to be loud. Thankfully and graciously they are…it must require much effort to be so loud. So, to save them on energy, as I am working toward a greener universe, I will sit in the grass and just listen. It is amazing what you will hear. This message to you is what I heard today….

June 3, 2009


Productivity? What does that word mean to you? The thoughtful, no funny, realization is it is THAT word that inspires, intrigues, despairs, distains so many. Is it our duty to produce, or prosper? Perhaps byproducts are the productivity…or perhaps it is the prosperity? We give to life, or does life give to us? What do we ask for in return? Or is the return in that we do live?

BE gracious, thankful, giving. We are blessed to live and prosper; therefore producing for all! What can you give today?

Mizpah! With love,


June 4, 2009


Prosperity? Invokes quite a different connotation for most. What hit you when you read this word? Quick! Grab a piece of paper, type it on your computer.

Discover it. Do not limit it. It is there for you...your wealth. It is personal for each of us, but can also be shared for the universe. Discoveries are not meant to be shadowed. Glorify them, release them, as they will always provide back to you.

Do not covet, rejoice! You will receive.

Mizpah! With Love,


Almost June 5th


Commitment? Not sure about you, but my hands just curled up thinking about it! How did it ever do us wrong? What is it about commitment that is to fear? Abandonment? Risk without reward? But think, our most cherished experiences have been giving to those we love. Those we were committed to and blessed by. Some we must leave.

This does not mean we can not give ourselves fully again. Who made it so that we can not love and be loved again? Not my God. Just because our giving’s served their own ways, does not halt what can be given to others; more importantly, given to you. I take it back. It was serving OUR own ways at the time.

Love each of you! I am committed to you.

June 6th

Managing Change?

Managing Change? A good friend and relative gave me this topic to ponder. To him I am thankful!

Today was a day of change. Not always an easy transition. Sometimes some of the simplest of things seem difficult as we grow. For example, typing this is frustrating, as I do not have a working mouse. Why? Today, I was packing my computer bag and looked at the USB drive for my mouse still plugged in. Most times I have left it in. However, I have been known to not treat my expensive equipment so well, so I took it out in a hurry as leaving. I was finally making a smart decision in regards to treating my property well. Right? Now, I can not find it ANYWHERE!

The morale to this story? I did not manage my change well. Yes…I changed, but did not see fully through the change. Putting the drive inside its place, the mouse, would have been the full circle. Sometimes our hastiest decisions to change can cause the slowing of the change, the growth, the transition. Yes, change is a part of our life, but it is us in control of managing it. Just think what may be different if you had given change a second thought? Bettering it, bettering you!

Relish your USB drive, relish what and those you love. Put it, them in their proper place. Proper place for you, as you do not want to lose them.

Mizpah and Love,


June 6th

Loss or Gain?

Loss or Gain? I am staring at a torn folder. A folder that contains all my documents to the one and truly thing I almost owned…well I guess, as I will beat anyone down that tries to take Atlas, my Dog! Not really a violence fan, but someone would hunt that dognapper down;-) I have to give up my car for financial reasons. A car I worked for, and very hard so.

I have been blessed that a kind gentlemen and good friend has offered a trade to relinquish that debt. It is a hard thought. It is like I am saying I am giving up. The rest of all I worked for gone. It is a necessity, but is still a loss. Atlas will like it better…it’s a nice travel vehicle I am trading for.

So, that is where the gain comes in. I WILL never give up…you that know me know that. I am just being financially responsible. My friend and trader is giving it, the car, to his child…so definite gain there! I do not need anything special in this transition.

For me, it is just a reflection of life. Most of you know the challenges I have faced. As sad as it is to lose a car, how blessed am I to have a friend!

Mizpah and My Love,


June 7th,

Here’s the Picture…

Beautiful moonlight night in very colored Colorado! I was walking my dog home from our walk in the park, and stopped for a quick bite at Wash Park Grille. As we walked home, I saw how enlightening the walk was. There is something about moonlight that reflects everything! Trees were shimmering…glistening in its light.

Thoughts not necessarily abound. It WAS the experience. Share that beautiful moonlight , enlightening experience with someone you love. My thoughts are only afterthoughts. Make your own reality today!

Mizpah and My Love,


June 8th

What is beyond the yellow brick road?

What is beyond the yellow brick road? Do we really want to know? Or is the passage that states the journey is better than the destination more fitting? I have always expended a lot of my time and energy in the journey. I do not like endings…I like beginnings. But perhaps by not ending we can not begin. Or is it that the journey is infinite, so every stone is anew?

Saying goodbye is difficult. I work my hardest not to. For me it translates to failure, though failing myself in the process. I need to learn which times are appropriate TO say goodbye, when others are meant for Mizpah, which is what my closing is to all of you, as you are the putty, glue, concrete that keeps my yellow brick road well traveled!

Mizpah has many definitions. It was pointed out to me about twelve years ago. The word is on the street posts on the lower downtown (lodo) of Denver. Its main meanings are until we meet again, travel well, indicating there is not an ending.

Yes, there are roads to be found and experiences, but I will always be there for you.

Today is a day to say goodbye to difficulties, hurts, pains. Instead say hello to all that can and will be.

 Mizpah and My Love,


June 8th

Johnny Appleseed is Real!

One of my first fights against the system was when my 3rd grade substitute teacher asked the class if we had any famous/infamous relatives. Quickly, as I was a geek, I raised my hand. My great, great, greatest of grandpas was Johnny Appleseed!!!

No! She told me. He’s a legend, like Paul Bunyan. I proceeded, as soon as I was allowed, to the school library. That is where I found proof that John Chapman (AKA Johnny Appleseed) was in fact a figure in our history and my relative.

THAT was a changing point in my life! Not that I am related to Johnny Appleseed. That I, when challenged, could make a difference! What have you been challenged with lately and allowed to reside in you? I have to tell you it is so liberating when you do meet, challenge and conquer. I find as I have gotten older that I brush those aside. Those little, simple things. The things that resonate.

However you choose to conquer them, do. You may find proof you were right, release them of non-importance, accept and move on. Each will liberate and unburden you. I was 8, so what was so important then may not be so much today, but who knows? It’s up to you to decide.

Mizpah and My Love,


June 9th

I am eating a plum…

What’s on your mind? (Facebook Humor) I am eating a plum? Do you really need to know that on Facebook? Or here for that matter, but I have more to add on the subject. I realize it is a good pastime to write about your current time. I do like to hear from people via great social sites like Facebook, LinkedIn, Twitter, etc. What an evolved way of connecting!

If all you want to get is I am eating a plum…please let me know! Easily provided on Facebook! I have only chosen this method, as I can express why I am eating a plum. Quite frankly, I do not know if I am plum tired, plum sad, plum frustrated, plum happy or plum ecstatic right now (I just woke). Plums really have no wisdom, just nourishment!

Perhaps they do invoke wisdom?

My goal, my purpose of these writings is to inspire you and me. My hope is they do the same for you…can always choose the Facebook method, but then you would just eat the plum;-)

But, if you choose to read on, I am blessed and hope you are.

Speaking of a plum…what a big seed for such a juicy, tasty, but small fruit!

Is a seed that is planted symbolizing our own spirit? That seed was given to us when conceived, and has been growing since. It is our core. The further it grows, as do we. It has many ridges, many cuts, but it is our protector, our inner guardian, allowing for our juices to flow, our tastiness, as you will, to develop. Conventional way of thinking is that it requires an outside armor to live. However, the plum is soft, giving, not necessarily forgiving of its skin, but opens to it. Relishing, rejoicing, in what it was created to do. Growing as it grows in you. The seed has served its purpose as it planted its fruits in you.

I have been putting up a lot of walls as of late and taking a sledge hammer to work on tearing them down now. It is all well and good if you want to punish yourself, surrounded in the darkness of the walls, armor and shields. But, if our skin is cut, your core, your seed, your spirit is there to heal. Even with our juices of life given it will still be there to prosper. Our spirit will pervade.

So let down your guard today, accept the juices of life and celebrate that with which flows within you! You have a core. Enjoy a plum!

June 10th

Logs and Dogs

Perhaps instinct is better than intellect? This is what I question as I wake to find that my dog has moved a log from the yard right in front of our gate, so he had a resting place for his head, but still in a watchful position.

He could have just lain by the gate, but he, as we do at times, needed something to lean on. So he just did it. What makes it so hard for us to just do it? (Nike don’t sue me please!). Ask for that something, someone to lean on. What is stopping you? Pride? Burdening others? They are there to help, as we are for them!

I think we get so caught up in independence, co-dependence, dependence, inter-dependence intellect of the equation that we forget. The truth is, Friends are Friends, Family is Family, God is God, Angels are Angels, You are You. They, you, are there for you. But you must ask to receive!

What will you ask for today? Try it. It works.

Mizpah and My Love,


June 12th

Meatballs and Guacamole

Let me preface this with a statement: For those that do not cook this may be superfluous information. However the analogy may just change your day today.

I use to make meatballs and guacamole with a very special little girl. Not at the same time, but the premise is the same. We had a whole bunch of goop needing to be put together with lots of ingredients!

She would add some, I would add others. We never really measured. That was part of the joy. Then we would mish and mash. The results were always different; a new experience, but always nourishing.

Perhaps this is how we should envelop change? Can we ever know what will walk in the door, send an email or change our day? And, truthfully isn’t the mish and mash fun? Throw a few different ingredients into your life today and let someone special add to your mix. Who knows what can happen!

Mizpah and My Love,


Almost June 13th

A Door to Nowhere

I sit on my porch and stare across our (me and Atlas) alley at the door to nowhere. It’s on a second story with no balcony, not even a small one! What is its purpose? Why is it there? Why hasn’t someone boarded it up? Looks dangerous to me!

But it is not my door. It’s my neighbors. Who am I to judge its purpose? For all I know they open that door and wonder why does my neighbor have a giant for a dog?

What’s ones door to nowhere is someone else’s to somewhere.

We all have our own journeys.

Mizpah and With Love,


June 14th

I just had to swallow Humble Pie


Do you know what is in humble pie? I didn’t. It is made from the edible organs of a deer or hog! Why do we relate being humble to such an unappetizing thought? That doesn’t sound appealing to me. Trust me, I enjoy venison and a great pork chop for dinner, but pies are what dreams are made of.


I was given the gift of being humble today.


The ability to be humble is a gift. It’s embracing in the recognition that we do make mistakes (secret gifts), and God, Spirit is there to catch you. Swallow your pride, not society’s humble pie if they are not the ingredients for you. Let your humble pie reflect you and create your own humbleness within you. One made of what serves you at whatever point in life you are at. Ingredients may change, but you are the creator, not everyone else around you. They can take your pie or leave it. But it is yours to enjoy, a gift to yourself.


So, enjoy your own humble pie as dessert after swallowing your pride. It will sweeten whatever it is that you had to swallow your pride for.


Kiwi-lime sounds good to me right now.


Mizpah and My Love,


June 19th

Tongue Lashings

Tongue lashings and the tears that follow are like being whipped by a spiked chain and dipped in the salted sea.

However, the latter are superficial wounds, exposed to oxygen to heal them. There may be scars, but they are solid and visible, so those that see them are aware that you have been through excruciating pain and trauma. They respect your strength for standing tall and exposing these scars for the world to see.

Tongue lashings cause internal wounds so deep in the soul that they have little oxygen to heal them, so the mending process is long, lasting sometimes a lifetime. Opportunities to reopen these wounds are great, tearing apart easily as they have not healed completely. Set backs are not only common, but many times more painful as they make the wound deeper than it was before. Patterns are easily developed, as the loose not tight scarring erupts as identity is lost.

Because these wounds and scars are buried so deep, no one can see them on the outside. They can not see the scars and have respect for the excruciating pain and trauma you have been through. Nor can they see the healing wounds, so they understand you are in need of kindness, love and support, speeding the recovery. You have to speak out and tell them, which seems weak compared to those walking tall with their scars.

Our voice can be our most powerful asset. It can be a weapon of biological warfare, infusing someone with deadly bacteria that slowly erodes their spirit and soul. However, our voice can also be the building blocks, the wings, the hand that lifts someone up, empowers them, believes in them, so that joy, hope and greatness ensue.

In America we have the right to bare arms, but these arms are there to protect those we love, not kill them. So, please take a breath and think the next time your voice is about to shoot.

June 26, 2009

Standing Tall on a Mountain of Shoes…

My eyes were popping, as I stood in awe looking at the greatest structure built in the name of thrills within a 500 mile radius of Lake Jackson, Texas. I was six, it was the Cyclone. The largest rollercoaster at the Six Flags theme park, Astroworld…white, wooden and wondrous. It went up, up, up and then almost a straight vertical down, it had to at least been going at speeds over 100 miles per hour, I thought with my 6 year old precise perception skills… then up and down, curving sharply, climbing at great speed, diving quickly, even raising you off your seat at times…so I heard.

I thought I was in rollercoaster heaven. I didn’t even mind the line that came out to the sidewalk! I raced to the one, the only creature that could stomp my dreams…the wooden Daffy with his yard stick in hand. That duck had daffed me for the last time. He got me last year, but I drank all my milk that morning and stretched my body long and hard. I even brought milk to Astroworld to drink on the long walk to meet the challenge ahead. I HAD to be 48 inches; yes 4 feet, that was all I had to be. I had to get new pants this year, as they looked like flood pants my grandma had said…so I must be 4 feet! There was no other option, not in my mind, at least.

I was there with my mom, her two sisters and three girl cousins. My two younger cousins, Lindsey and Nicole, were no competition for Daffy, as they were just babies. Daffy had them beat for years to come. But, Stacey, my older cousin, would easily beat Daffy at his devious game of inches, being one year my senior and a good ½ a foot taller than me. But, she didn’t want to play his game! She was frightened of the reward, the ride of her life! What was wrong with her? How could she be scared of something so simply marvelous?

With bated breath, I expanded my rib cage, straightened my spine and approached the duck. “OK Daffy, it’s just you and me. You may have that stick as your weapon, but I have milk in me!” As I took one last swig of my milk, I felt like Popeye eating his spinach. I went up to Daffy, eye to eye and did an about face, pushing my back hard against him to get maximum spinal extension. The six adult eyes looking at me went from bright to dark…My Mom came up and placed her hand on that evil red line, and sure enough, her hand was not touching my head. Tears started steaming down my face, as I could hear Daffy repeatedly saying in my head, “Your Dispicable!” My aunts begged my mom, “come on Leslie, it’s only an inch and she is ready to ride.” Knowing we had one more fight away…true mortal combat at the front of the line, a human warrior with a 3D yard stick, we explored our power of persuasion and proceeded. We will put “wings” on her feet…their lovingly way of saying they would add platforms (their shoes) to my close to four foot structure.

Safety ultimately prevailed. No matter how many shoes were there to lift me, I was not tall enough yet. It was ok “to not be there yet.” Tears did stream! But, the next year tears of joy came!

Perhaps, we sometimes think we are ready for what life may give us, but it is our spirit that has the reigns. Be thankful of those insights and love. Now that I look back, I was blessed.

July 13, 2009

According to the Devil’s Dictionary:

PATIENCE, n. A minor form of despair, disguised as a virtue.

Now, I am not one to readily agree with the Devil. In fact, I pride myself in Angelic pursuits. But, I question, WHY is patience a virtue? To be frank, I sometimes get so wrapped up in the being of patience, that I lose the being of myself. I am here, I am now; what is it that can be accomplished today?

Is patience what is required or is it a sense of urgency? This day can be like no other day, but if we patiently wait for it that day becomes the next and then the next…our life passing away.

We have many ways to be virtuous. Provided that our impatience is a reflection of our vigor, our joy, our drive for infinite possibility of self, let it be the perfect action of not waiting for what you deserve, but doing what you were created to do.

Mizpah and My Love,


July 14, 2009

Fluffy white versus sticky brown rice…


I have always been told that marketing is a lot of fluff. Being that marketing is my chosen passion, I, at times, am offended by this statement. I have always relished the sticktuidness of ideas, their rich flavor of the dreams imparted.


I like that certain engrained thoughts have mixed with new grain to create a color that is given for our taste at the purest, pristine world we now live in, our own mesh of true beauty; our sticky brown rice. But, Are we stuck? Or is it the accumulation of our very unique foundations that has brought us our intentions. Our perfect blend of sorts…


Love all, love each, we are all a part of one. Relish your piece and peace and enjoy that which bonds you to your neighbor. Thank you and God bless each of you for being my peace!


Mizpah and My Love,


July 16, 2009,

Reflections or Refractions?

Perhaps this is a way to take the jagged piece of glass I found today and create a miracle…

We are all blessed with at least one wound. Sometimes, they are very easily recognized as a birthmark; those are easily forgiven. They are our reflections, and accepted as such. Other wounds may hide in the depths of our very soul and only revealed when harshly exposed. Uncovered and screaming for the universe to enlighten and then save us more than just the cut that the jagged piece dug.

Those pieces to me are the refractions. They are a bending of light to illuminate that dark corner of self that is our blessing. We all need shadows, to perceive our light. What may make us appear topsy turvy in a wacky house of mirrors, also makes us taller, unique, stronger!

I too have the waves of reflected self, but also refract to the self I am portraying daily. Reflections are in fact an act of narcissism. But to refract that reflection adds its dimension…your bending, giving and strength. With just a reflection you only have you to look back at in the mirror. A refraction gives to you both a self portrait and a family album of what you are factoring in to your future.

Let the family album be the structure that yourself leans on. It has your back; whatever the structure of family may be at this time. I am one, but I am here for you, my family. Stronger structures have not been built in this amazing time of innovation…

Thank you for the strength of our structure.

Mizpah and My Love,


July 16, 2009

Writer’s Block…

Perhaps some of you have noticed my writer’s block of late. I have been considering this lapse in reasoning and communicating, if you will. I feel my block has been due to a shock in my system…a feeling called happiness, which for many writers is death incarnate!

The good and bad of it all is that all my stresses have not been removed. I am still ACTIVELY pursuing a new career. I can write, I can communicate in Pig Latin, I can sell the shirt off your back…for a very nice commission of course;-) But, my website truly connects you to my “professional skills”. I hope you will visit me at Please, I beg, find me a job! Your next life will ensure a grandiosity of sorts for helping me…you’ll be blessed in this life too! We are all in this beautiful, God given and blessed world together.

Back to the block, and why I discovered happiness should not block a path, but instead open one. I am reminded of the phrase “there is light at the end of the tunnel.” The only tunnel I have had numerous experiences in is the Eisenhower Tunnel; which is the highest vehicular tunnel in the world, providing a path to our picturesque and thrilling Rocky Mountains of adventure. I fractured a bone prior to crossing this channel many years ago. It is that tunnel that transcended me to the freedoms of such light. For which I am so thankful.

That tunnel crosses barriers that we could never cross before. Experiences we would never be exposed to. Some may be glory, others sending you back to the beginning, but there is light at the end. What I now see as the beginning, not an end. Capturing that light is only part of the journey…the mountains await you on the other side!

I am safe, ecstatic and joyful in this tunnel I am in, even though it is nearing its end, my mountains await! And of course another tunnel…Glenwood Springs, No Name Tunnel, is just 1.5 hours away. Definitely planning to pick my flowers for that adventure.

They, my new flowers and old family tree, will keep me safe. I am happy in this tunnel of opportunity, as I will be when the other end is crossed and new mountains of hope are built…

Mizpah and My Love,


July 16, 2009

The Undercoat…

Bless his heart and my budget. Atlas and I are now kindred spirits of grooming! He is my undercoat of my existence!

Two grocery bags full today, perhaps another will be filled tomorrow. The more I pluck, the more he sheds. He is my “Bundle of Joy and Fur!”

Denver has had strange weather this year, so what would have been a furry transition has become a furry mess! It has gone from a grateful 70ish Spring/Summer to 90+ degrees and humid..a twist to his own acclimated dry, hot climate of summer!

However, there is something to be said about shedding. Most mammals and reptiles experience it in brief periods of existence. We place little notice on it as we are relatively non-hairy creatures and skin and hair is exfoliated through a daily routine of washing. Which makes me ponder about cleansing…true cleansing. What frees us and unleashes our instincts, exposing a new skin of both protection, but freedom.

I am calling Atlas “Patchy” right now…a name I am certain he hates. But, true to his adorable self at this point in time. I could also be called patchy. It would be nice to shed all my fur at once, but the Universe said “NO!” There is a climate change that is awaiting, and one that I am blessed to be acclimated to. There is no rush. I am picking the old fur as I go. It still serves a purpose and the new growth is propping as we speak!

I have found my voice again, so please let me know if these emails are distracting. I am HAPPY!

Mizpah and My Love,


July 16, 2009

A Voice…

Internal, external, written, spoken…what is a voice? What is my VOICE? Do I have one?

Great question…isn’t the pursuit of life based on great questions? But I am going to challenge, drill down to the voice. To me a voice transcends written and spoken form. It is a message. Hermes/Mercury was set on the delivery, but our channels have evolved over time.

I have a pragmatic thought and an invite to my like-minded individuals, so please call me if interested. Explore a combination of efforts…I have always worked partnerships! Let’s explore together!

Mizpah and My Love,


July 17, 2009

A bicycle made for two…

A bit of a misnomer for some, but it is true to its name. There are only two wheels, but somehow accommodates two people when most bikes accommodate only one.

I just saw a mono on a bicycle made for two. Perhaps that seat is empty to give space to the pursuits of our dreams. But, perhaps it makes available room for a new position we are blessed by and offer to another. Or, perhaps, we take the back seat and let the Universe and God take the driving wheel.

I feel like coasting today on that very essence of what the Universe drives me to. I am not the Logistics Coordinator in my life. I am given to me a greatness, those blessings, which unfold its nature for me.

I will speak more regarding God as my Logistics Coordinator. God to me represents the Universe, so this idea unfolding will work for all, regardless of beliefs, as we are one. We are all spirit!

The amazing part is that our maps are not written in stone. They are real-time, evolving with us. We have the power to expand. God, our Universe, provided that right to us…never forget, as many are not so blessed. That is where the giving comes in. You WILL be rewarded for each and every act of kindness. Perhaps the rewards are not so rightly given, but they are there for simply the peace and serenity you represent.

I wish you each peace and serenity today!

Mizpah and My Love,


July 31, 2009

Painting the Sky

The Universe gave me a paint brush last year after a summer storm and said, “Paint the sky!” I was flabbergasted, as I looked around at my paint of pain that was now a sea of goo on the ground, sticking to my feet making it difficult to walk, much less reach the sky to paint!

Plus, I had no energy left to paint the sky, nor any paint to paint it with. All the paint had seeped out of me onto the ground; the colors had now run together from the storm creating only a dark abyss of goo. “How can you ask me to paint the sky?” I asked, getting a bit edgy, as I looked at this pristine, clean brush, soft bristles and a handle that fit perfect to the shape of my hand. “And why this brush now?” I cried out. “I could have used this brush a long time ago!” as I had painted everything by hand before I thought to myself. “And just look at all this mess I now have to clean up!”

The Universe said simply and serenely, “I did not give you a mop, I gave you a brush. The paint below is not a mess. You will soon see. Give it some time and let it dry.” “How long?” I asked impatiently. “As long as it takes,” and then matter-so-factly stated “Some colors take longer than others to dry.” The Universe was obviously humored by all of this. I, on the other hand, frustrated, angry, steaming mad!

You see, this mess below my feet was once an exquisite masterpiece that was created from tears of strength, painted in careful form, as I could not allow myself to get out of the lines. It had to be perfect. I thought it was…then one day the rain came. It was a light drizzle at first, so I thought it could not hurt the masterpiece. Then it got windy and started swirling all my colors together, all the lines were crossed, as I hastily used my hands to try and reposition the colors, but the picture had lost all form and was no longer perfection. The storm shouted at me with thunder and threw bolts of lightening, as I ducked and quivered. Somehow, able to maneuver these threats, I thought I had finally beaten the storm, but then the storm dropped hail the size of baseballs down on me, beating me into the waves of goo. I thought I would surely drown…

That is when the Universe handed me that paint brush from a clearing sky, pulling me up from the goo. So you can see why I was flabbergasted at its request! “What do I do while I wait for this paint to dry? I cannot paint the sky,” I repeated. “It’s out of reach, I have no paint, nor do I have money to buy any paint. Am I just to sit here then in this drying goo of eternity, stuck?” The Universe replied, “That is your choice, but you can paint the sky. There are other painters here on this planet with paint, ask them for some of theirs. Let them know you are going to paint the sky with it. Who wouldn’t want their paint in the sky?”

I pondered this thought for a few months, as the paint below began to dry. The Universe was right, some colors dried faster than others, as I slowly felt the now cushy color of red beneath me, separated out from the dark abyss of goo. I followed its path, with my brush in hand, and found another painter. “I know this may sound absurd, but the Universe has asked me to paint the sky. I do not have any money to buy paint from you, but please know when I paint the sky you will see your paint in the portrait, so you will forever be a part of the sky.” “Where did those words come from?” I thought in a daze of confusion. “He is going to think I am crazy!” But then the most amazing thing happened. The painter extended to me an entire can of yellow paint. “This is for you. Go and paint the sky. I believe in you. It will be beautiful. It will be you.”

It’s a miracle!” I exclaimed, as I thanked the kind man from the bottom of my heart, the top of my spirit, and the depths of my soul. I looked down to find another color had turned from goo to a bouncy yellow, so I followed this path and found another painter. This painter responded with another can of paint, this time blue, with similar sentiments. As other colors began to dry, I followed their paths, sometimes effortlessly bouncing off the buoyancy of the drying paint, sometimes slipping and getting some paint on myself and at times getting stuck for a while.

During the sticky times, I would look at the sky and envision my painting, my new masterpiece, not one of perfection, inside carefully painted lines, but an abstract full of infinite movement.

Almost a year had passed. As I now had the full spectrum of colors, it was time to paint! But then an overwhelming panic struck. “I still cannot reach the sky.” I cried to the Universe. “All of these painters, they believed in me and now I will let them down. I have failed once again…” “Be patient, be open. Is your intention to paint the sky?” “Yes!” I exclaimed. “It is now my dream to paint the sky. I want more than anything to take all of these gifts and create a stunning, brilliant sky brightened with the loving colors everyone has so kindly shared with me. It is not just for me. It is for them. It is for you.”

All I could do was sadly and solemnly stare at the sky. “What are you looking at?” Startled, I turned to find kind eyes staring into mine. I did not recognize this man, as he was not one of the painters that had shared their paint. If he was a painter, he would have known why I was looking at the sky, as word travels fast amongst the painting community.

What a long story to share,” I thought to myself. “I do not have time for this. I have to figure out how to reach the sky.” I looked into his eyes full of inquisitive delight. “Why is he looking at me like this?” I thought. I was all covered in paint from my long journey. “I am a mess,” I uttered. “Just look at me!” “I am not looking at a mess. I am looking at an amazing masterpiece, perfectly imperfect, beautiful inside and out,” he joyfully said to me. His kind eyes were still bright and intriguing, pulling me into his energy. An unfamiliar sense of peace came over me, and I opened up to him. I shared the story of the storm, the paint brush and what I thought at the time was the Universe’s ludicrous request and what I now knew was my destiny, the generous and kind painters along the path and now my paralyzing dilemma…how can I reach the sky?

He listened to the story intently, and I paused at times and listened to what it was that brought him to the center of my now dried foundation of colored paint paths. He too was on a journey. That was comforting to know and was so happy that he crossed my path. As I finished the story, I looked back up at the sky and sighed. He joined my stare and said, “You know, I am taller than you and could probably reach the sky and paint it for you, but the Universe asked you to paint the sky. I know you will do an amazing job painting your vision, and I believe in you.” Then he looked at me and said, “I know we just met, but can you trust me?” Trust was a lost word to me at this point in my life, but for some reason the word “yes” came out of my mouth. With brush in hand he lifted me up…I reached up high and started to paint the sky!

Thank you to all my painters along this path and the brilliant colors of hope and love you have given me. The painting is just now underway, but feel free to look up at anytime, as it is yours, it is ours; and thank you kind eyes for the lift; right when I needed it you were there!

Mizpah and My Love,


August 6, 2009

The Tortured Artist

What is the deal with creativity and pain? They seem to be joined at the hip…

I am going to stand up and destroy this misnomer once and for all!

I am happy today and want to spread the wealth. My wealth is you and all that flows within me. Join me on this powerful journey, as I welcome your company.

That is the truth, as we can’t go it alone. I tried to go it alone for a very long time. I can be a bit obstinate. Those that know me are probably nodding their heads right now. But, what brought me out of the shadows was the light…not a mystical aura of light, but the persona of light. Yes, other spirits living on the earth here and now! Do not dismiss their powerful energy.


A hard word to fathom. Trust me, I know. How can one accept when we assume what is being given is not a gift, but a sentence. Will you forever be tied to what has been given in attempt to show it, he or she gratitude? NO!

It is a gift. ACCEPT it as so. That will free you from the burdens you place on such presents received. You will give back, but in your own time. What you discover in the process will be a gift of its own descent.

One does not have to be a tortured artist to create, to give, to love. Just ACCEPT and you will free yourself to be. Unwrap that hidden gift in your closet or the one out on a limb. The colorful bow can be saved to wrap the gift you have for the soul you will save…

Mizpah and My Love,


August 6, 2009

Falling in Love…

Why does one have to fall to love? Perhaps you may trip into it, but I feel I have been climbing into love for a time. It’s a beautiful journey with no broken bones or bruises. It is an up, not a down, and nothing is falling. Instead all is uplifting.

On my way traveling up this peak of life I did trip; a necessary evil to recognize my surroundings. But, there was a hand to help me up. I am not one to grasp so easily, so I got a bit beat up in the process, but the hand was strong and together we brushed me off and pointed me in the right direction.

I do not want to fall in love, but I want to be risen into it. The Universe has given me the hand. It is a kind and brilliant hand that I am allowing to guide me. Can you let your helping hand guide you? It will not fail you…

Mizpah and My Love,


August 7, 2009

A Gift to the Present that Awaits…

A play on words I know. But, is that reality? Time and space is a human experience. As such, we accept these projections of sorts. But as spiritual beings, aren’t these awaitings actually existing now? What is the waiting or awaiting for? What purpose, if any, does it serve?

Is it that we feel we have to earn it? Earn the reward. As Newton’s third law state, “To every action there is always opposed an equal reaction: or, the mutual actions of two bodies upon each other are always equal, and directed to contrary parts.” Why does it have to be the next year, month, week, day, hour or minute to perceive this gift, this reaction? Our desire invokes earnest pursuits. It is not our earning that invokes the rewards of such.

Perhaps this concept may be a bit Zen-like, as a brilliant and kind friend might say, but for me a reality of today. What is your reality? Do you have to dream of your gifts or can you open your present today? I am excited to untie the brilliant bow I see!

Mizpah and My Love,


August 9, 2009

Wings- The Seduction of Life

It is the first week of August. Most are thinking of the first day of school on the horizon, but my thoughts are turned in another direction. Yes, a kindling is still omnipresent, but also a flirtation of a firefly that only ensues when one has jumped off a cliff…

I have done just that. The jump, I mean. Even more exciting is that I am not falling at the speed of sound, nor light for that matter. In fact, the next to impossible has happened. I am growing wings! Fluttering away past pains and enveloping the newness and oneness that life and this Universe is giving me. A time in my life that needs and wants to be cherished, as it has been in a metamorphosis of late.

It is time to try out these new wings of mine, as well as the man that has encouraged the jump! “We can fly!”…I know that is what he would say. Actually, he would say “You can fly!”, as his belief in these freshly born wings is tremendous.

These wings are a bit fragile to me, as most butterfly wings are. Do you recall that if you touch a butterfly’s wings they lose all dexterity? I was actually told they can die. It is true that your oil on hands can destroy a butterfly’s scales; however, it is not the touch that will kill…but if you are in their space, as opposed to invading their space, they will be in a harmonious relation to you.

The connection of spirit, soul, love, life on this planet is not an invasion. It is a blessing. Take a moment and enjoy it as such, as I know I will enjoy this person connected to my space, encouraging these fresh new wings I have to fly!

July 17, 2009

I am going to write a book this weekend, starting now.

The Title: Lost, but Found- losing that we can not find, finding that we have lost…these are our gifts.

Preface: I can not come into your life and clean your toilets! That is the preface I will forth come. That is actually all the preface I can offer. What envelops after is up to us. I am writing this for you and the being I will become thereafter.


My Grandma said to me tonight, “I had a diary; I could never finish it.” “That’s because, Grandma, it will never be finished…”, I shared with her. “I am blessed by you, Grandma, your braid and what it represents. IT is a lifetime of beauty, you!”

My Grandma had a dream that extended from the crown of her head to the bottom of her heart. She was given an actual braid by an angel. Creating a link, linking to the brilliant tomato vines my grandfather grew. A match made in heaven.

Braids intertwined with vines. The essence is male and female. Each growing in different directions; but copulating at the same time. A blend of sorts. A beauty that can only be it.

This is for you Grandma. You are the person that always qualifies that which I am. I love you!

Chapter One:

Clean Your Own Toilets! Accept and Flush!

I was fortunate and unfortunate to grow up with a Father as my primary caregiver. He is an AMAZING father, but never so good with the toilet seats. I finally just “accepted” the seat up, but it made late night bathroom visits challenging! Thankfully we had two bathrooms.

Please stay with me, as there is light beyond the crud. But, the truth is there is crud. We ALL have it, no matter as pristine, accomplished we are. There is crud to clean; our own soulful toilets. I WANT to give to you the experience this release represents. It is amazing, and once completed, your “AhA” will happen. RELEASE yourself from burden…truly what is the worst that can happen?

Trust me, it is no worse than this digging of anguish it represents. It may require phone calls after phone calls, wait times that will last forever, but a lift that will give you, you back. The biggest harm in life can be losing yourself. You will lose yourself with these pressures.

Make the call. It won’t hurt. It will create serenity. The system that has this great hold of you is only because you let it. Let IT go. There are better things to wrap our arms around….so free yourself to do just that.

I should embrace my own advice. As I do know the freedom it holds. So let’s hold hands and embrace that, creating a bond, as opposed to the binds that tie.

I made a call to my University about a week ago. As the truth is transfer credits were not recorded correctly and according to them I had not graduated. It was brought to my attention with my recent job search. After close to 14 years of this assumption that I was a college graduate, I was in shock and shaking in my boots. I have been working for multi-billion dollar companies that promised upon hire that my background would be checked. Why was this not brought to me attention before?

Why, because it was not what was needed at the time. What did I find with my call? I have 5 missing credits, as requirements changed. The credit courses that have to be taken are 2 upper level communications courses. I can complete these online. It is another cost I have to factor, but also an amazing opportunity to learn in an academic setting. This has completely turned upside down my job search, as all online applications ask specifically to check that all important education box- college degree, some college, associates degree, etc. There isn’t a box for “5 credits short due to a requirement change that did not accept Humanities courses taken 14 years prior…”

But it is only 5 credits and a chance to learn something new. Expand my horizon. So, I am looking into financial aid this week and may be starting a political communications class in Fall online. My political affiliations have been a big part of my life for years and lobbying always a fleeting thought...perhaps that is what the Universe is unfolding for me.

Yes. This wasn’t what I thought the cards had dealt me five years ago to where I stand today. But, perhaps I needed to not be able to check the right box to explore movement to the right box for me. Prior to the past week, it was never a question, but an incorrect assumption.

It all comes back to validation, false validations, leading to false reasoning. I feel that I probably knew in my heart something wasn’t right with my degree. My validation was being hired. I accepted the “systems” ability to keep me in check. And it worked for the time it needed to. But, a new era has arisen; one that will not afford such misgivings of self.

As I will do with each Chapter- renaming to Snippet, as I have discovered I may not be a novelist just yet, but Ayn Rand watch out! My dog is named Atlas Shrugged after all. I will present you with challenges. This idea is derived from one of my favorite authors and speakers, Dr. Wayne Dyer. He calls them lovingly “suggestions” in his book, The Power of Intention. A book I would highly recommend reading prior to finishing mine, as then you will “get me”. Once you do “get me”, you will understand that challenges to me are a synonym to opportunity, but for those in that place in their life seems to work better, as you still see only struggle. This WILL change. By the last words written in this book, as there will never be an ending, our challenges will become opportunities. I wish upon you the opportunities that follow.

Challenges Today:


Chapter has an element of finality, so I will just call it Snippet II.

The Bunny Incident- Life lessons of a Texas Pageant Queen

Truth- the pageant title came a few years later, but I am all about the sizzle as a dear friend has stated. But, he also said that the meat of the sizzle is most important, which is my dear bunny…not my tiara. No. I did not eat my bunny!

My bunny, named “Bunny’ (perhaps my creative juices happened later in life!) slept with me in his cage in my bedroom. Grandma and Grandpa came to visit and both thought that was very inappropriate, so they “stored Bunny” in the garage. I would have frequent “Bunny” visits and brought him indoors, out of the VERY hot garage. As, it was not only a Texas summer, but our clothes dryer was also running in there, so we are talking 115 degrees at least. I would then bring “Bunny” into a very cool 70 degree house. “Bunny” had a heart attack and died.

Acclimation is important to existence. Had “Bunny” had a choice he would have taken the time to acclimate. But, someone, sadly me, forced the plan. Do not ever let someone force your plan. You have a voice. A sad afterthought of “Bunny” reminded me that he did not. A blessing given to you by the Universe is your voice. Use it, loudly at times, quiet at others, but never fearful, as that it is your right.

I have zipped lips way too many times. Not, zipped way too many times! But, at the end of the day you have the right to choose your voice. Make it something special, as it may just save a “Bunny”.

Change happens. Our life is rich in transitions, as you embark on what is it you want. Do NOT try to acclimate quickly. I would caution. Breathe first, because if you catch that breath another path may turn.

What is tapping you on the shoulder today?

Our Earth has been here 4.5 billion years; the Universe, millenniums more! Try to breathe. It will be a breath of opportunity. It works, let your Logistics Coordinator take you there. That is my spiritual counselor, my God.

Challenges Today:


Snippet III

My Struggle- The Logistics Coordinator

I am by far from perfect, so the fact that I can give you our Logistics Coordinator as a be it all solution, reflects just that. I am great at giving, but not accepting such advice. I am the worst at letting go of a seeming control of my life. In actuality, I strangle in life, many times in an attempt of control.

But I must interject, the strangest of all has happened. I found HIM or HER, not quite sure, but it does not matter. I have my Logistics Coordinator of life; that which is my Life, my Universe, my Self, my God. This energy not only guides, but puts forth an energy that ALLOWS me to relax, to sleep.

Sleep is good. My gifts are given to me there.

But, back to the realm of the Logistics Coordinator. That entity can be many things, but ensure it is that other level of existence, or dimension that we will next travel. Perhaps the voice can come from another human, which may be coming through to you but, as caution, always consider intent. Tricky at times, yes…rewarding always if met and accepted. Hand the reins over if that angel is found.

The Logistics Coordinator can also be a third party, so don’t lose touch when in the reins of passion. Its energy is there and will carry.

Carry where? For each our own, but we have our Logistics Coordinator there. So what else does that free you to do today? For most it is an exhaustingly, yet wonderful amount of possibilities, challenges, opportunities?

Perhaps it is that sleep, where my gifts are given, or reading a book, taking time with a child, lovingly giving to an elder or just plain walking…just for yourself! Smell the roses, as they were brought here for you!

The letting go is the hardest part. But, what it opens you to is THIS. Receive THIS, love THIS. Our life is and always will be a blessing!

Challenges Today:

Snippet IV- LifeSavers: a box of gummies or a lifeline

Asking for help is the hardest of all to ask for, but the easiest offered when asked. Drop pride, as that is ego incarnate. True friends are there. Never take them for granted, but take for the giving they give freely to you, as you will for them.

I for one never knew how easy it was to ask for my LifeSaver. My assumption was they would know when help was needed. That is probably the worst assumption one can ever have. ASK, ASK, ASK! You will receive from God, Angels, the Universe, Friends, Family and Self. It is not weak to ask, it is weak not to. There is a reason for the name LifeSavers. They, you, are there through even the most sour of times. But if not asked, even to self, we are lost.

Today, I ask you to find your LifeSaver. It is truly amazing how one small piece of sweetness can make all the difference in your day!

This is why it is important to have connections. To need and feel needed. That intertwining of the braid and the vine is power, not a power deriving from ego, a power deriving from connection. It strengthens us and others.

I will never forget the day that my father put me on his lap to tell me that he and my mom were getting a divorce. I was six. The care he took in that one moment of sharing what was surely horrific news from him set a bond for us. I was his LifeSaver that day, he has been mine ever since. He is definitely intertwined in my braid as a strong vine that will continue to grow, as he does and as my braid grows long.

I will also never forget the day my hair intertwined with my mom. I say hair, as she is the one that did give the hand to make the braid. I love her for that. Raised by my father, my relationship with my mom was always challenging…which is why I propose that challenges can also be possibilities and then opportunities. Time is needed to grow the braid.

The vines add to their strength, give them vigor, and nutrients to pursue the next tangled web we weave. We all need balance, Yen and Yang, that which completes us. If we try, as many do, to do it all, we fail. Not accepting gifts, not being open to receptivity. That is what frays the hair of your beautiful braid. Sours the blossom of the enlightened vine attempting to envelop your spirit.

Possibilities Today:


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