Stacks and Miracles

 

This looks like the drafts for one manuscript.

However, this morning my desk looked more like this:

One of the advantages of cleaning a drawer—this was a file drawer where I had slipped in receipts through a slot I made by leaving the drawer slightly open is that I find something of value.

Surprise! A great accumulation of papers, receipts, car repairs, and health information were stacked up in a great pile inside the file drawer. The pile expanded when I took it inside the house to the dining room table. But surprise, surprise, I found a paper I was looking for, and while sorting through my stack, I found this:

From Desmond Tutu:

"We have to stop pulling people out of the water. We need to go upstream and find out why they are falling in."

Right on, I thought, remembering the conversation I watched some time ago of Desmond Tutu, the Archbishop of South Africa, and The Dalai Lama. Those two clearly loved each other and were as mischievous as six-year-olds, teasing each other relentlessly while sharing their spiritual practices. At one point, one poked the other and said, "Act like a holy man." Tutu got the Dalai Lama to take communion, and you couldn't help but laugh when The Archbishop persuaded the Dalai Lama to dance.

The Archbishop of the Anglican Church of Southern Africa, an advocate for civil rights, is married, has four children, and won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1984 for his role in anti-apartheid. In 2009, he received the Presidential Medal of Freedom.

In 1989, Tutu spoke out about the Israeli Palestinian conflict, asserting the right of the state of Israel to its territorial integrity and security against attacks by those who would deny its right to exist. And now, 35 years later, we still have that conflict. Sigh.

Yet those two spiritual friends, after what they had gone through, got together in a spirit of joy and colluded to write THE BOOK OF JOY: How to Find Joy in the face of suffering.

Well, I have to buy that one even though it costs 16 bucks on Kindle.

When Tutu asked the Dalai Lama how long he had been exiled, he answered 35 years, then added:  "There is a Tibetan is saying, "Whenever you have friends, that's your country, and whenever you receive love, that's your home."

Thanks for reading. Thus, I have a reason to write this blog, find that quote to give you, and find "The Book of Joy," which I intend to read.

You see, miracles happen every day. (And all the pages are in their own little file folder.)

My next to last chapter from Your Story Matters is here:

Chapter 59

 Aloha

Two months after moving to Hawaii, Little Boy Darling turned one year old on Ground Hog’s Day.

 

Neil was on the mainland completing a project, and the rest of the family, DD, Little Boy Darling, and I, decided to celebrate at the beach. 

 

The beaches on the Hilo side of the Big Island are rocky, so it is necessary to drive a distance to enjoy a sandy beach. We aimed toward Hilo, but instead of turning right, we turned left toward the town of Volcano and kept driving until we came to Punaluu, Black Sands Beach. 

 

There, the sand is black and worn round and smooth as caviar. It is where the Hawkbill sea turtles, giant as manhole covers and dressed like warriors in full battle regalia, sun themselves on the warm sand. 

 

The water is treacherous there, but DD went in until she felt the surge and decided that wasn't a good idea. In ancient times, the strong swimmers, the men, would dive down, holding an empty bottle covered with a finger. At a spot where fresh water enters the sea, they would remove their finger, allow the bottle to fill, and stop it up again. On the surface, they would offer fresh, cold water to the family.

 

Freshwater percolates through the sand there on the beach, and it was said that in ancient times, the turtles came there to help the children, for they dug troughs where the freshwater could collect. 

 

Someone had built up the sand to form ponds about six inches deep at the surf's edge. It was in the ponds that Little Boy Darling spent his day playing in the caviar sand, smearing it on his legs and tasting it occasionally.

 

As my daughter and her son were thus occupied, I wandered down the beach and found a lady sitting in the sand, searching for tiny white shells that could sometimes be found sparkling in the black sand. She was there also celebrating her birthday with her grown son and daughter from the mainland. As her children played in the water, the lady and I sat in the sand and visited.  

 

She said she and her husband used to come here and search for the tiny white shells. The one who found the smallest shell would choose the restaurant for their dinner. Six years ago, her husband came to the Island and bought a house, for it had been his dream to live there. Since she loved him, she agreed to move. However, it rained more than she could take; she couldn't find the items she wanted, she missed her family, and she would stand in the backyard and cry. Her husband said they would move if she was so unhappy. 

 

She decided that she would adjust, so she stayed, and now she won't leave even when the kids beg her to do it.

 

Her husband died two years ago, and a "friend" stole their money. She lives on Social Security, $700.00 a month, in their little paid-for house. She is happy. "It is ALOHA," she said. “Aloha is a way of life; look it up. It means to give without expecting anything in return." 

 

It also means, "Hello, Goodbye, and I love you.

 

Aloha,

 

From Jewell, Joyce, Jo

Wham! Life Hits Us.

 

“La de da da,” we come into this lifetime joyful, smiling, squirming bundles of possibilities. Oh, what fun. We will run and play and bask in the love of adoring parents. This is a vacation, playtime on earth—this beautiful planet with its colors and trees to climb and animals to play with, and…

 

Wham! Something hits us. What was that? I can’t go into the water because I can’t swim?

 

“Oh, okay, I’ll learn to swim.”

 

“La de da da. I’m a dolphin. Mom look at me. See how I glide through the water.”

 

“Mom, why are you crying?”

 

“What’s happening?”

 

“Daddy’s leaving? That can’t be. He’s supposed to stay here, live with us. You’re getting a what? A divorce? That can’t be, parents are supposed to live with each other. They are supposed to be here for me, for us, together.”

 

There are many others in the naked City, country, or hovel.

 

The point is we have created beliefs about how life is, but we go on building a life for ourselves. We go to school—well, that’s another story—the point is, though, that with those hits, we develop a view of how life is, and thus we develop a view of ourselves.

 

We see how people leave us, how we feel unloved, or how hard it was to maneuver the school playground, the lunchroom, the taunts or teasing. We might excel at interpersonal relationships, but there is usually something. We might think we are better than most—that’s an injury, too.

 

We have taken hits, and since they are emotionally charged, they impact us more than the gentle, happy ones. We were raised by parents who sustained hits of their own and, chances are, had no clue about raising kids. They had their own problems. However, together we muddled through. Maybe we had a best friend that filled in some of the holes in our psyche. Perhaps we had many friends, which further influenced our view of life.

 

The bottom line is that through all this, we developed beliefs.

 

I thought I had nothing to discuss today until I remembered yesterday’s email. A friend sent me a quote from Vincent Genna. It was, “Thoughts do not create, beliefs do.”

 

“Yes!” I yelled. “That’s the missing piece of the Law of Attraction puzzle.” We create through our beliefs, not from our thoughts. And most of those beliefs are held and exercised unconsciously.

 

Wow, this business of life is tricky.

 

But we’re adults now, and we can look back and throw those beliefs onto the wall to see if they stick. Are they true? Are they important to keep? Can we replace that belief with a more healthy, pertinent one? Perhaps they are absolutely not true. You did nothing to affect your parent’s personal problems. They were theirs, not yours. Maybe you can forgive them now.

 

I mentioned in a blog earlier that I was writing a memoir. Whenever I say it seems ostentatious to write one, think of it this way: I believe everybody should write one. Thus, my title Come On, I Dare You. Like, hey, don’t leave me alone in this. Every writer knows that a piece of writing affects the one writing it more than the one reading it.

 

From going over my life, I wonder now what my mother thought and felt when she discovered, at 16, that she was pregnant with me. I know she took her best friend with her when she went to tell my father. (I found out that later from her best friend.) She and my father got married and about four years later divorced, but that’s really all I know. She obviously felt she “Had to get married. It was shameful in those days to be an unwed mother. (Although it regularly occurred.) And she tried to hide it from me her entire life.

 

Once in the night, I heard her tell my stepdad, “I hope Joyce never finds out.” However, I knew. Kids know many things their parents try to keep from them. They also know that they shouldn’t know, so they stay quiet. I didn’t know, though, how much she suffered over finding that she was pregnant. And I don‘t know how much I shared her emotions since at the time, we were both sharing the same body.

 

That “trauma” could have contributed to some of my beliefs. 

Tuesday August 1, 2023

 

“For in the last analysis, our most basic common link is that we all inhabit this planet. We all breathe the same air. We all cherish our children’s future. And we are all mortal.”

--John F. Kennedy

 

Hi, 

How are you doing?

While taking down the search engine from our Real Estate Site, I finally got a fire in my belly.

 

You see, I am a reluctant Real Estate Agent. I'm a writer. I want to write. I'm not a salesperson. 

 

But I'm into service.  

 

And so, I began writing a Newsletter. In the middle of it, I decided to call our Mortgage lender, the initial one, not the one who has services our loan now. That loan moves through lenders as though playing musical chairs. However, the initial lender is friendly and Simpatico.

 

I knew there was down payment help, but I needed to figure out where to find it. Cavalry in the form of one horseless Mortgage Lender to the rescue. He dumped so much in my head some didn’t stick, but his email came shortly after. Bless his heart.

 

I got excited. And wrote,

 

I'm here to give out information and to help people. I don't want potential clients to look at me and think I only want a commission. That would be nice, but first comes service.

 

So, I am not blogging on Vibrance Real Estate LLC, and I know that real Estate talk can be dull for people not into it. I'm going to have fun. After all, a Pink Flamingo on your sign and business card tells the world you aren't running with hyenas.

 

When the lovely flamingo calls to you, you are called to celebrate life's beauty, romance, and fun. The flamingo reminds you to not get too caught up in life's day-to-day responsibilities at the expense of feeling joy and recognizing the finer things in life. Flamingos are famed for their pizzazz, grace, balance, and harmony. They are highly vocal, and their idea is that the more, the merrier. 

 

So, add your voice to the gathering; The Flamboyance Newsletter will appear on https://vibrancerealestate.com on the first of each month. Except for this first one. The second installment will be next Tuesday.

 

We’d be tickled pink to have you join the gathering. No sign in, no fee, just information.  

 

Lend your voice, and we'll see where it goes.