When I was a child, my idea of what I wanted to be when I grew up changed almost weekly, from a teacher to a research chemist to a psychiatrist to an opera singer. One thing I never wavered on, however, was my plan to be a “mommy.” Being the oldest of six children, I knew early those tuggings termed maternal nurture. I remember crying on my twelfth Christmas, knowing that the next year, I’d be too old for baby dolls.

​Flash forward to my twenty-fifth year. Everything seemed right in my timeline. I was engaged to be married, and was expecting my first child. But at twelve weeks gestation, I miscarried that child, and I called off the marriage (for other reasons.) I won’t list here the details of my failed relationships and reproductive problems, but at age 40, I finally had to have a hysterectomy, which naturally quashed all dreams of motherhood.

​For a season, I was devastated, even bitter. I became comfortable in seeing myself as “wronged” by the universe. Anger does have a certain energizing force, after all. Eventually, though, anger turned to depression, and that wasn’t nearly as satisfying. I knew I had to take the risk of letting go of those comfortable angry feelings, but it was scary. What would I replace them with? Would I ever be happy when my fondest dream in life could now never possibly come true? I didn’t know for sure, but I was willing to be open to whatever came next for me. And what a glorious next chapter unfolded:

​See, while all of that drama was going on, I was fortunate to have a sister who honored me by allowing me to be a part of her children’s lives. They stayed with me often when they were little ones, and each in their turn lived with me during the rough teenage years. Today, all three of them are parents themselves, and guess what? My oldest niece and her child lives with me, as does my oldest nephew, his significant other, and their baby.

It may not be the family I envisioned as a young child, but I have a houseful of people whom I love, and who love me. I get to play the mother role and the grandmother role.

​I challenge you to look at your life, and at the things at which you think you have failed. Perhaps, just perhaps, you may have attained that very thing, only it doesn’t look exactly the way you thought it would. A change in perspective can often put your whole world into focus.

What do you do when you first open your eyes in the morning? What are your first thoughts? How do you begin your day?

I attend St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church in Austin. The minister is Dr. Jim Rigby. Some of you may have heard of him or read a quote from him. He is often on the cusp of the response to injustice – globally, nationally, and within in our own neighborhood(s). I am always challenged by his words, his thoughts, and the thoughts I have that his words have stirred. In the words of Jack Nicholson in “As Good As It Gets,” he “makes me want to be a better person.”

A recent Sunday’s scripture was Psalms 139. I wish I could quote it as we heard it. It was a modern, progressive translation from the Inclusive Bible. During his sermon, he said that each of us belongs to: ourselves, others, and to the world/universe/nature. It was a good sermon, as usual. He made a suggestion that I want to risk doing.

Here’s what he asked us to do. When we first wake in the morning, we are to remember that we are unique, valued and loved. He went on to say that this isn’t to make us believe that we are each the ultimate person and that those who aren’t like us are inferior. NO. That would never be what he was saying. We are to think this and remember this while we remember, also, that we are all connected and we are all loved. Just wake and remember these things.

From the way I was brought up, at first this sounded a little bit like a form of bragging. Maybe you were brought up the same way. But, we’re not asked to say these things to someone else – just to ourselves.

I bought a “thought a day” journal and in it I’m going to risk not only having that thought and saying it to myself but writing it. Each morning I’ll write that I’m unique, valued and loved. I’ll also continue with my usual journal writing but this new little journal will be to remind myself every single day of my uniqueness, value and lovableness.

We won’t have world peace because I do this. But it’s a start. Imagine. Just imagine. If each of us started each day acknowledging that we are unique, valued and loved and going about our day feeling this and allowing others to feel it, too, what a different day it would be. What a different world it might become.

I’m going to risk it. Will you risk it with me?

Atlanta has been having some awfully lovely sunsets, of late. The kind that stop you in your tracks, that stretch as far as you can see from edge to edge: salmons and blues, corals and pinks, bright gold and turquoise. Each a marvel this week. But I’ll tell you: one stopped me in my tracks.

As I headed west (naturally!) on one of our main Decatur thoroughfares, I drove up the slope and slowed for the red light. As I did so, “all in a sudden” (as Leo Buscaglia said), the colorful, wide horizon came into view at the top of the hill. And right at that corner, as I sat to gaze, I again noticed on that very corner the 4-story assisted living place where my dad lived the last 9 years of his life. Of course, that’s a very bittersweet spot for me & my sisters: we loved him dearly, visited him often, regularly dropped off supplies & lots of hand lotion & even brought the nephews along to play piano for him.  That very building housed both dear and difficult things: it kept him safe & nourished & companion’d for all that while, and yet it also was the place where his dear, fading cognitive skills slowly drained away.

As I looked at that facility, I felt an emotional catch in my throat. I quickly looked away (as if to block the sight of that place), but then slowly & thoughtfully brought my eyes back to that place: the better to allow in all the emotions, both the pleasant & the difficult, with the wide expanse of incredible color stretched from side to side.  For once I was grateful for the long, long light—and simply let myself soak in the amazing colors as well as the heart-tugs of seeing that building. Once the light changed, I turned the corner, then as quickly as I could, I pulled to the curb on a neighborhood street, strapped the leash onto my ever-eager terrier, and walked right along the side streets–toward the bright western sky–to ‘mentally visit Dad’ as the sunset lingered. As a combination of prayer, mentally listing Dad’s traits & gifts that I’m ever-grateful for, and feeling as if he was walking right alongside me, I was also aware of how very very much I miss Dad. It was a sweet little, quiet walk. Once the last traces of the sunset had subsided, I thought: how sweet and bittersweet this has been. Rather than ducking away from the pain-part, I felt open to both the good parts and the hard parts. The stunning sunset: spotted right alongside a physical bldg that conjures up so much emotion for me. Letting in both the soothing and the longing.

And (true), as I buckled up and drove home, I was behind a slow-moving, shiny white Hyundai.  Taking my time and following behind, I was able to even read the fine print on this car’s license plate holder-frame. Its message? “An Angel… is watching over me.”  I just happen to believe that that’s true. 

It took all the gumption I have, plus encouragement from both my sisters and my partner, but I did it by golly!  I tooted my horn all over the place today.  I have been tinkering with an idea for awhile. Rolling around in my mind.  Playing with it.  But I never let the idea out to play until yesterday.  I asked for more time to do what I love which is giving massage. I had to make the request out loud that they allow me to be there another day.  The response was fair : we’ll give it a try for a couple weeks for you to prove that it should be done.  Well, that was just the opportunity I had been waiting for.  But it was gonna take something strange that doesn’t come from me very often.  I had to ask for help.  I had to write up why my massage is so amazing that more people need to take part in it.  That wasn’t the hard part.  I love talking about how wonderful massage is.  The hard part was asking people to help me get the word out.  Asking folks to take a minute of their time to chat with me about how amazing massage is , so that they in turn would help me spread the word.

Good news!  I asked and I received !  Everyone was open to listening to me.  They could tell how excited I was to talk about what I do.  They were more than willing to help me in anyway they could.

So, thank you partner for believing in me.  Thank you siblings for your tremendous support.  I tooted my horn, and I lived to tell about it.

This risking stuff is working!

In how many ways do I miss the obvious? This humorous ad for vision testing made me wonder how much attention I actually pay to what I’m doing in the rat race. This is my short list of (for lack of a better phrase) my new year’s resolutions:

• Spend more time with my mother. She lives all of 100 yards from me and I pass by her home at least twice a day. Although she is fully independent, she is old and lonely. I know it brings a light to her day when I stop by for a quick chat.
• Be satisfied with where I am and what I am doing at any particular moment. I want to stop wishing my life away and start smelling the roses – wherever I am – and give thanks.
• Slow down. I equate quickness with efficiency and intelligence, but that’s not true – especially for me as I get older. In the words of Simon and Garfunkel, “Slow down, you move too fast, you’ve got to make the morning last.”

Now that I’ve written these down, and put them on the Internet, they can’t be taken back. I’m risking making changes to slow down, become more satisfied and spend more time with my mother.

I used to be a regular contributor to this blog, always on the 31st of the month.  I “resigned” from regularly posting earlier this year, but feel prompted, prodded and guided to add a post this month.

I no longer make a list of resolutions at the end of/beginning of a year, feeling that the list sets me up in some unfavorable and unhelpful/unhealthy way.  I most definitely have intentions, but I don’t feel the need to formalize them in a written list right now.  Spirit/the Universe knows my intentions (having help shape and clarify them as we’ve communicated throughout the year) and is steadily and constantly working with me, my angels, my guides and all sorts of other human and other spirits to help move those along to fruition.

What I DO want to get “written down” and formalized is my acknowledgment of how frequently, how readily and how wondrously I have taken risks this past year.  I also want to affirm that I will continue this risk-taking behavior into 2012.  It ain’t always easy (if it were easy, they wouldn’t be risks), but it’s the right (and fulfilling and growth-supporting) thing to do.

Perhaps the biggest risk I’ve taken during 2011 is staying in “today.”  I chose to leave a full-time, relatively good-paying job near the end of 2010 to start my own business.  While I absolutely do not regret having taken that step, my business has been stunningly less than successful and I have been looking for full-time work for several months, also unsuccessfully (so far).  The risk of being in “today” has meant that, one day at a time, I felt a mix or conglomeration of joy, frustration, happiness, sadness, anxiousness and anxiety (anxious for when I thought I was going to be offered a position and anxious about when that offer was not forthcoming), hopefulness, “less than”-ness, gratitude, boredom, excitement, etc.  I usually didn’t feel all of those feelings at the same time, but I frequently felt more than one of them at a time, sometimes having feelings that didn’t used to seem possible to feel simultaneously (how can I feel hopeful, sad, grateful and “less than” all at the same time?).

Today I am feeling especially grateful . . .

• grateful that I have successfully lived through, survived and thrived through another year of being involved in and living life to the fullest
• grateful that I share my life with a partner/wife who loves and supports me no matter what (and this past year has included emotionally, financial, spiritual and all sorts of other kinds of support)
• grateful for the tremendous love, support and care I have received from so many friends (and the clarity to let some “friends” go because those relationships were no longer healthy and/or “good” for me)
• grateful that I am willing to continue to live each day to the fullest and to the best of my ability as it arrives and plays out
• grateful for the continuing clarity of what I do and don’t want in my life and the willingness to take steps to move toward getting less of what I don’t want and MUCH MORE of what I DO want (and even more of and better than I can currently imagine), and
• grateful that I have an amazing, continually growing relationship with Spirit/the Universe, my angels and all the other beings/spirits (living and “dead”) with whom I connect and commune daily.

I am also grateful to have this platform to express my gratitude and to connect with all of you.  Whether you know it or not, you are also among that for which I am grateful.

I wish each and every one of you a splendid 2012 filled with risk-taking that brings you to heights of love, joy and gratitude that you didn’t believe and couldn’t imagine were even possible.

With love and angel hugz,
Dawna

This morning I made a new cover photo for my Facebook page, based on an infographic I saw someone else had posted.  The infographic in question was this:

It hit me smack in the face with its truth. And when things hit me like that, I tend to try and repeat the experience. Not because I’m a glutton for punishment or pain, but because I really want to internalize what it’s saying to me.  So, I made this cover for my Facebook page, so I’d see it everyday for the next while:

Its interesting to me how plugged up we get in life when we try to control all three pieces of that statement.  The only two that are within our control are the ‘make the choice’ and the ‘take a chance’ parts – we don’t get to control how our life will change, as a result. At best, all we can do is influence the changes.

I’m finally cool with that.

This year, I’ve made lots of choices and taken lots of chances. The ones that have worked out the best are the chances I took on me.

As I move into 2012, if I am resolved to do anything, it is to continue making choices and taking chances. Laura’s right – flexing my risk muscle is a good thing. The things I want in my life – love, friends, work that makes a difference for others – all come to me as the result of taking chances. The life I want will never drop into my lap. It doesn’t work that way.

I create the life I want by making the choice to take chances – on me, on others, on life, itself.

Just a quick note to with you my risk for the day.

Today, I’ll be doing nothing that I don’t want to do.  It’s my birthday, and that’s just how it’s going to be.

Sure, there is plenty to do.  Sure, I’ve already taken days off this month to be with family, and will be taking more off this week and next to celebrate the holidays.

But if we can’t take our birthdays off, what kind of world is this, really?

So, here I go…  see you later – next month, next year even!

And happy happy to you and yours.

First let me say Happy Holidays to all!

About a month ago I purchased Susan Boyle’s newest CD. I love it! There are lots of old (but good) songs and there are a few I’ve never heard before.

Since between this post to the blog and the next, we’ll experience the celebration of a new year, please let me offer you the words of one of the new (to me) songs called THIS WILL BE THE YEAR (click to listen) by S. Khan, Josh Kear and A. Sande.

Toast to me, hold up my glass
To all mistakes I’ve made.
Good intentions washed away
As soon as Springtime came.
I danced in Summer, fell in Autumn,
Another candle blown.
Now Winter’s come around again.
I’m back where I begun.
And even though you’ve heard it all
I know you don’t believe
Let me keep the last thing left for me,
This will be the year, the year.

The year I learn to take some time
To stop and breathe it in,
To keep a promise to myself
To finish what I begin.
Bad habits stop, no more regrets.
I’ll step out of the red.
Open arms and an open heart
To all that lies ahead.
And even though you’ve heard it all
And I know you don’t believe,
Let me keep the last thing left for me,
This will be the year, the year.

Blind faith carries me.
I’ll keep holding on.
And I’ll face finally
What I’ve been doing wrong.
I know you don’t believe
But just for me can’t you pretend
That you’ll never, ever hear me say
These words again?

I know this time I won’t be late.
This time I will arrive.
Save my tears and save my doubts,
This time I will try.
I know I can be better.
I promise I’ll be strong.
I’ll make them see what I have been
Seeing all along.
I know you’ve heard it all before
And I know you don’t believe.
Let me keep the last thing left for me -
This will be the year, the year.

Whatever that means for each of you, I pray this will be the year for you. Make it so.