I’m not feeling too happy this Halloween, there’s not much joy in the air as this bizarre regime continues to decimate the programs that support the needy, kidnap people off the street with zero due process, and reveal an absolute lack of any humanity.
BUT I’ll be dressed as a Hello Kitty witch this year, so all is not entirely lost…
Happy Halloween!
It’s a bird I’ve never before seen and I’m sooo happy he chose to visit the gardens at Casa de Enchanted Seashells!
The Black-headed Grosbeak is a migratory bird, with nesting grounds from southwestern British Columbia through the western half of the United States and into central Mexico.
I think this is a male; black head, black wings and tail with prominent white patches. Its breast is dark to tawny orange in color, more like the color of cinnamon.
The black-headed grosbeak eats pine and other seeds, berries, insects, spiders, and fruit. I didn’t hear him sing, however, his voice is a rich warble similar to that of an American robin, but more fluent, faster, softer, sweeter, and mellow with rising and falling passages that make the song much longer than the robin’s. The note is a sharp ik or eek. Both the male and female sing, but have different songs.
Its symbolism includes a message to live in harmony with yourself. to forgive yourself, trust your instincts, meditate more, and be kinder to yourself. When this bird flies into your life, it also prompts you to practice contentment. Alternatively, a Grosbeak meaning suggest being supportive of those around you who are struggling.
What an amazing garden visitor!
I’m not talking about the dark night of the soul burdensome self-condemnation kind of regret, but I was randomly thinking about how sad it is that when we grow up, people stop asking us who we’re going to be for Halloween.
There was always a great deal of excitement around this conversation, “Who are you going to be for Halloween?” or “What are you going to wear?”— whether we dressed as a witch or a ghost or a princess or a superhero or a pirate. It’s a way to step outside of ourselves for a couple of hours, to escape into an innocent fantasy.
Some might claim I’ve never grown up and that’s simply not true. There’s a difference between being childISHly puerile and one-dimensional as opposed to the open-hearted ability to discover and appreciate simple, joyful, childLIKE pleasures in life. That’s a good thing, in my opinion.
For Halloween, I’m never scary. I usually dress like a princess (of course) but next week I’m going to be a ballerina. I hauled out my sewing machine and made a longish sparkly pink tutu with a tulle overlay, reminiscent of Les Sylphides.
I’ll adorn myself with pink ballerina earrings (an unexpected treasure from Goodwill), my toe shoes and a tiara, so I’m really going to be a princess ballerina.
Je ne regrette rien. No regrets. Forever young.
Who are YOU going to be for Halloween?
She soars on her own wings.
Socrates
Meet Princess Aurora!
A couple days ago I was shopping with a girlfriend who was actually looking for Halloween decor for a party but as soon as I saw her tucked away on a shelf alongside sparkly lights and baubles, I knew she had to come home with me.
I had to name her, so she will forever be Princess Aurora. Isn’t she the most magical, adorable girl you’ve ever seen?
I guess this creation was meant to be a holiday decoration, but she’ll live on that chair all year long, or until a special little titian-haired Angel Girl claims her.
Princess Aurora’s magical wings light up, too. Beyond precious. Innocence personified.
“Magical places are always beautiful and deserve to be contemplated.
Always stay on the bridge between the invisible and the visible.”
Paolo Coelho
This is heavenly…no phones, no social media, no distractions; simply a butterfly-filled meadow alongside a sunshiny, babbling brook.
This pic reminds me of one of my favorite songs by (who else) Leon Russell, Down On Deep River. It evokes the perfect, serene mood…
“Hear the crickets singing for a mile
And the sound of the bullfrogs make you smile
So lead me beside the still waters
Let me love you down on deep river.
Won’t you sit by my side
And hold to my hand and love me all the way?
And we’ll leave all the highways far behind
And just take a little blanket with the wine.”
It’s a bit unsettling to not be absolutely certain if something is real or a dream, right?
A couple days ago, I went to sleep about 10:30 pm or so. That morning I received my Covid booster and yearly flu vaccine. Because I have a sensitivity to vaccines, I usually get them separately, but this time I opted to try them at the same time just to get it over with.
At some point, my bed started shaking like we were having an earthquake, but I was also dreaming.
I was in the middle of a dream about my mom. I was in my bed and she was in her bedroom and when the earthquake started, she told me not to worry, everything will be OK, and I should stay in bed until it was over.
Since my mom died a long time ago, I guess that part was some sort of a dream, but in real life, the real or imagined earthquake woke me up to reality because at 11:00 pm I woke up/entered another dimension. I checked the earthquake app on my phone and there had been NO earthquake anywhere around here, which was slightly worrisome because whatever it was woke me up.
That’s crazy, right? When we are having an earthquake at night, my bed DOES shake back and forth just like it did in my dream state.
My heart was racing but I wasn’t scared. I kept going over the dream/not dream in my mind because I couldn’t figure it out. I felt what I felt, but if it wasn’t an actual earthquake, what was it?
Earthquakes in lucid dreams can also be a positive symbol reflecting a major shift or movement in our life. These can be personal changes that need the destruction of the old for the new to rebuild.
Houses in dreams are a symbolic representation of the dreamers sense of self. The bed can also be a symbol of what might lay dormant within, as being asleep is opposite to being awake. It might also suggest the symbol of death and rebirth. The bed as an ancient dream symbol has a wide range of interpretations attached to it, connecting the dreamer to intimacy, relationships, and security.
The earthquake part didn’t upset me, but what I couldn’t make sense of is why it felt so real. Maybe the vivid dream was caused by the vaccines?
Later that day, I did experience all the usual side effects that means my immune system is robust and working properly: aches, chills, low grade fever, fatigue, sore arm — so that might have been the reason, but I can’t shake (haha) the real-ness of it all…and how nice it was to see my mom again, no matter how it happened, and to know that she’s still looking out for me.
It’s the time of year for parent-teacher conferences in most school districts. I was thinking about the time my parents went to a meeting and they were told that I wasn’t living up to — or performing to — “my highest potential” which has been the story of my life’s path.
I was VERYVERY smart but I wasn’t doing as well as my teachers expected, especially in math and science. According to all of them, I was capable of great things and should pursue a career as a doctor and my dad also thought I’d be a great lawyer, following in his footsteps. I’m not exactly sure why I didn’t finish either of those life paths, although I sort of started down that road, maybe because there were obstacles in the way, like studying. lol. “I wasn’t applying myself” became the repetitive theme.
Those thoughts sent me on a rabbit hole to learn more about my own life path and numerology.
Numerology is the belief in the mystical relationship between numbers and events, used to interpret character or divine the future by calculating a person’s key numbers from their name and birth date. It is a system that assigns numerical values to letters and uses these values, along with your birth date, to provide insight into your personality and life path.
Modern numerology is often based on the ideas of the ancient Greek philosopher Pythagoras, who believed the physical world is a manifestation of the energetic vibrations of numbers.
In a crazy coincidence, I realized that I initially wrote about this subject exactly one year ago. Or maybe it’s not a coincidence, whatcha think?
Anyway, I have no regrets because It all worked out as it should.
Due to my not exactly poor, but not exactly stellar academic performance, and especially since I declined the gifted program because I saw how those kids were ridiculed for being nerds and I wanted to be COOL, I instinctively knew how to encourage the Original Angel Boy to love learning and reading and offered supportive nurturing opportunities anywhere he expressed an interest.
For example, when he was six-years-old and interested in dinosaurs, I took it a step further and brought him to the Natural History Museum so he could meet with the paleontologists. They included him in a project categorizing dino bones and gave him some fossils to bring home.
When he realized that the local paper had misnamed a dinosaur found around here, I called the paper and they sent a reporter and photographer to the house to interview him…and yes I still have about a dozen or so of the articles which I’ve shown to the Angel Kids. “Look at Daddy!”
When he wanted to be a reporter, I called the local radio station and set up a meeting with one of his favorite bands that were in town, Trixter, (don’t judge, it was the 90s). After he interviewed them on-air, they gave us backstage passes to the show and we hung out in their tour bus. They were really nice guys and very kind to the Angel Boy, only now I’m thinking to myself, why didn’t I do the same thing with Leon Russell? Another missed opportunity. SIGH.
Since Reading Rainbow with LeVar Burton was AB’s favorite TV show, he wrote a poem for a contest hosted by the local PBS station. All the local kids who participated were brought to the station and I still have the group photo. He won something, but not the national award. The only thing that mattered to me was that he TRIED, not whether he won or lost.
I did all this so he wouldn’t end up like me and it worked. He’s still passionate about learning, reading, and writing, and now he pays it forward by teaching the next generation, so I’m very proud of myself, and AB of course. His bright future was actualized and came to fruition.
Do you know how to figure out your Life Path and Master Numbers?
Add your birth date/day/year.
For example, if your date of birth is 2/12/1938…2+1+2+1+9+3+8 = 26, which is reduced to 2+6=8.
The Life Path number of 8 indicates someone with natural leadership skills, wealth potential, and management talent, but must always use that power for good and avoid greed. They excel at business and finance.
In this case, there is no Master Number because a MN is is a special type of life path number that is a double-digit (11, 22, or 33) and is not reduced to a single digit. I don’t really understand much of this, but it’s so interesting!
My own Life Path Number is 2 and my Master Number is 11, one of the most rare of all numbers, as it can be reduced to 2, my Life Path Number.
Here’s what it’s supposed to mean for me:
Master Number 11 is associated with high intuition, spiritual insight, and a duality that requires balancing a spiritual path with material life. It’s sometimes called the “Illuminator” or “Spiritual Messenger” and represents a gateway to higher dimensions. Individuals with this number may experience challenges such as confusion and indecision, which emanates from a struggle to trust their intuition and a pendulum-like oscillation between extremes.
To be completely honest, I literally have no idea what that means.
Why is the number 11 so powerful?
The number 11 symbolizes the potential to push the limitations of the human experience into the stratosphere of the highest spiritual perception; the link between the mortal and the immortal; between human and spirit; between darkness and light; ignorance and enlightenment. This is the ultimate power of the 11.
Once again, I’m reminded that I really never did reach my full promise, so those early teachers were obviously correct in their assessment.
Check out your own Life Path and Master Numbers so you can decide if you are living up to your maximum potential. It’s never too late.
In the midst of this dystopian hellscape in which we’re enmired, something beautiful happened in my little beachy town, a glimmer of hope that humanity is not completely dead.
A hundred or so of our neighbors showed up to celebrate the retirement of everyone’s favorite mail carrier.
When news spread throughout his neighborhood routes that our special and beloved mailman was retiring after forty-two years, a plan was formed to host a potluck in his honor at our local park.
This guy has been more than someone who simply delivers our mail; he’s become one of the family. There are few people who have an inner light that shines brightly. We all have been touched by his many kindnesses and we wanted to return the love, not that we haven’t gifted him with things over the years, but this needed to be a spectacular celebration, a send-off he’d remember.
Families from all of his routes showed up with food, decorations, and gifts. People we’ve said hi to for decades now had a name, and we shared stories about our personal experiences; especially his sweet tooth!
Since I’m known to be extra, I contacted our mayor and asked him if he could possibly create some sort of formal commendation or award to present to this exemplary human. He liked the idea which had actually never been done in the history of our city, and asked me to write a little speech for him, which I did. He took it a step further and created Mailman Steve Day and presented him with a framed award.
It was an old-fashioned community gathering, enjoying a beautiful SoCal evening AND happily for me, a little Leon Russell chat.
I yelled out to a neighbor, “Hey, Leon!” because he has long white hair and a beard, so of course I always refer to him as “Leon”, and another neighbor said, “Why do you call him Leon? That’s Jim.” and I told him it’s because he looks like Leon Russell. His response was, “How do you know about Leon Russell? Do you know Mad Dogs and Englishmen?” I showed him the playlist on my phone and told him to pick a favorite Leon Russell song and he chose two of my personal faves, “Girl From The North Country” and “Cry Me a River”.
Someone else requested “Tight Rope” and “A Song For You” and as a crowd gathered, we had a proper singalong. These guys knew every word and we all marveled at the musical genius of the one and only Master of Space and Time. #goodtimes
Best of all for me is that I’m still referred to as “Jason’s mom” even after all these years. It was so heartwarming to have several forty-year-olds (!) fondly remembering the backyard skate ramp and shared lovely memories about my original angel boy. I am so very proud to be Jason’s mom.
This happy community gathering to honor our mailman shows me that there IS hope for our country, even if it’s hanging on by a thread.
P.S. Next Saturday, October 18, is another day to protest the regime, another NO KINGS DAY, and I’ll be on the frontlines to again gather with my neighbors, this time to protect free speech and save America.
The waves weren’t great, more of a shore break, but there’s still a lineup of hopeful surfers. No whales, though, so that was a disappointment.
I peeked through the trees and thought I saw a swan in the artificial pond near the lagoon, but…
…it was a lovely white egret.
I’m not sure why he’s there, as the actual saltwater lagoon is steps away, but maybe he knows something I don’t.
I wish they’d return for another visit to Casa de Enchanted Seashells. That was so cool!
A little timeline cleanse right now seems appropriate. At the end of the day, there is only love.
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 