There’s a huge difference between being childlike and childISH. I’ve been (wrongly) accused of being childish or of not “growing up” (whatever THAT means) when the truth is that I’ve retained the quality of childlike wonder and joy regarding the world we inhabit — especially when it comes to simple things like a butterfly or a seashell or whales or stargazing or a spectacular beach sunset. At the end of the day, these things are what’s important, at least for me.
Hermann Hesse, poet and author of “Siddhartha”, wrote about this same character trait:
“All children, as long as they still live in the mystery, are continuously occupied in their souls with the only thing that is important, which is themselves and their enigmatic relationship with the world around them.
Seekers and wise people return to these preoccupations as they mature.
Most people, however, forget and leave forever this inner world of the truly significant very early in their lives. Like lost souls they wander about for their entire lives in the multicolored maze of worries, wishes, and goals, none of which dwells in their innermost being and none of which leads them to their innermost core and home.”- Hermann Hesse
We should never ever lose the part of us that points up to the sky and says, “Look at the moon!”
Here’s another point of view; not so sweet, but wild and ferocious…
Picture me as I lay in bed nearly asleep, when a medium-sized bison lumbered into the room and as gently and quietly as he could, placed his two front legs on the bed, and jumped up. He turned around a couple of times to get comfortable and laid down heavily with a grunt — his hairy body almost completely on top of me as he took up most of the bed, which isn’t surprising due to his size. I scratched his head between his curved horns, and we both fell asleep.
That was a dream, not real life lol. What the heck was that all about? I have a vague recollection of other animals in bed with us, but the bison is the one that garnered most of my conscious/unconscious attention.
Bison are known for their strength. Bison are very fast, hard workers, dominant, trustworthy, and protective. Dreaming of a bison could represent one’s inner power.. Dreaming of a big, strong buffalo could symbolize having a protective heart for your loved ones.
AI says that the bison itself often symbolizes abundance, manifestation, and strength, while the bed suggests rest and safety and peace of mind. In this context, the dream might be hinting at the need to embrace abundance, appreciate your resources, and find comfort and security in your life.
Crazy, right? What’s even crazier is that I wasn’t at all surprised to see a bison in the house. Sleeping with me seemed normal, although I’d bet in real life, a two thousand pound bison would probably have broken the bed. But thanks to a magical dream state, the bed was fine.
I guess that’s where my subconscious brain goes when it’s a palindrome day — 5-20-2025 — and according to Alex Myles, this palindrome date holds powerful mirrored energy—a sign of balance, alignment, and divine timing. It is a reminder that everything is coming full circle, and what you have been waiting for is finally starting to fall into place.
This is a day to believe in miracles and trust that the Universe is working behind the scenes to bring you what you need, in ways you never saw coming.
This is a powerful time for balance and reciprocation. What you give out is returning to you. If you’ve been giving love, kindness, time, and support, you’re going to see it come back—maybe through people, opportunities, or quiet moments of joy. This is your reminder to allow yourself to receive. You do not always have to be the strong one, the giver, the fixer. You deserve love and support, too.
This energy also brings a strong sense of harmony. Everything is starting to align: your heart, your path, your goals, and your healing.
I’m not sure how all those vibes brought a bison into my bed, but I’m open to the message — whatever it is!
All I ever wanted to be was a boymom and I got my wish with the original Angel Boy.
Happy Mother’s Day!
BEST BOYMOM QUOTE EVER: “If all the little boys in the world were lined up and I had to just pick only one, I’d choose you… every time.” (Barbra Streisand to Seth Rogan in the film Guilt Trip.)
This is a funny story and all you’ll ever need to know about my AB:
Since his life threatening medical issue and subsequent (emergency) major abdominal surgery for a ruptured Meckel’s Diverticulum a few years ago, he needs to be careful about his diet for the rest of his life, mainly never popcorn, but other foods can irritate the anastomosis repair, too, which he learned by trial and error.
He recovered better than expected from the surgery except for THAT little issue.
Recently, I suggested (not nagged) that he might benefit from regularly taking probiotics to normalize his intestinal flora and fauna, and I made sure he took them every day while we were together.
How do I do that? I chose the right time, like when he was involved in editing his new book or grading papers. That’s when I know he’s REALLY the absentminded professor and won’t pay any attention to me. I then hand him the probiotic capsules with a freshly made smoothie and he downs them without argument or question. However, it’s only a delayed reaction because fifteen minutes later, he’ll ask me what it was that I gave him but then it’s too late to refuse. HAHAHAHA. #momhack
I sent him a photo of the supplements he WILLINGLY swallowed so he could take them all the time and heard nothing about it or a couple weeks…until yesterday when he texted me and I admit it took me a second or two to figure out he was being his usual snarky, facetious self:
Apparently when it becomes HIS idea, it’s worth doing. Hmmm. Whatever works, right? After all these years, I finally figured out that he likes to think about things for a while before he makes a decision, so I sent him a photo of the type of magnesium and D3 gummies I take along with this text:
That’s my Angel Boy. Stubborn child, but no matter what, he’ll forever be my heart.
Nowadays I’m even luckier to be grandma of those two vibrant Angel Kids who started calling me “Gramps” for absolutely no reason at all, but it makes me chuckle.
When I asked them, “Why do you call me Gramps?”, they laughed hysterically, so I guess that’s who I am now.
There will never be a greater joy than being loved by those guys, that’s for sure. That’s what life is all about.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms and grandmas from Gramps!
Here’s a thoughtful word to help us increase happiness and reduce stress with balanced living.
Lagom, pronounced ‘lah-gom,’ is a unique Swedish term that roughly translates to “just the right amount” or “not too much, not too little.”
It’s the art of finding a perfect balance in all aspects of life – work, study, socializing, and even relaxation. In tennis, it’d be the sweet spot. It’s similar to hygge, but different.
To my child-like self, it reminds me of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, as she searched for just the RIGHT bowl of oatmeal, chair, bed…
The concept of lagom can be found all around us and can coexist with another theory called the Goldilocks Principle or the Goldilocks Zone. Our planet earth is said to be in the Goldilocks zone, neither too far nor too close to the sun, in a “just right” place that is perfect to support life. A Goldilocks economy is when there’s enough growth to sustain the economy but not too much growth that causes high inflation. In politics there’s the well-known extremes of the left and right and the (all too quiet) center. The Goldliocks principle can be found everywhere. Maimonides speaks of the Goldilocks principle when he advocates for the middle road in most areas of life, a sustainable and healthy balance that doesn’t go too far to either extreme. shabboshouse.org
For the first time in about nine months, it rained, and it rained HARD. So far we’ve had about an inch of rain and the forecast predicts a bit more. There was similar rainfall in Los Angeles which prompted flash-flood and mudslide risks for the wildfire burn scar areas through this afternoon.
Photo by Enchanted Seashells
This deluge reminded me that I had started writing a post about an unsettling, recurring leaky roof dream where bits of the ceiling fall all around me and no amount of buckets can ever stop the catastrophe in my living room, no matter how hard I try.
I had the same exact dream a few days ago. It’s not a pleasant feeling to be powerless to avert a disaster so I did my usual research and learned that it’s a common dream theme.
Potentially, it’s not as dire as I thought. It could mean…
–A heavenly transition of divine blessings. The heavenly waters are descending down, as a cleansing release.
— You will be flooded with relief as blessings rain down upon your life.
— Your dream is an expression of pure giving that represents grace in life and personal growth in prosperity.
— The dream is from a spiritual part of your soul. The rains are a sign of a beautiful future filled with growing abundance; spiritual and material gifts.
— The presence of heavy rain and water in your dreams may symbolize emotional cleansing, a need for spiritual renewal, or the flow of energy and creativity in your life.
On the other hand, a recurring dream about a leaking roof might symbolize a feeling of vulnerability, insecurity, or a sense that something important in your life is falling apart. The leaks represent emotional distress or overwhelming issues that you feel unable to fully address.
Things to think about…
Severity of the leak: A small leak might represent a minor concern, while a large flood could signify a major issue.
Your actions in the dream: If you are actively trying to fix the leak, it could indicate that you are attempting to address the underlying problem in your waking life.
Your emotional state in the dream: Feeling anxious or panicked about the leak can further emphasize the sense of vulnerability.
I wish I had paid more attention to the other times I had this same dream; I could have kept track of the date and all the other details to figure out if there’s a pattern — I’ve dreamed this same scenario more than a dozen times in the last couple of decades. I know it’s not related to the failure of my actual roof, so it must be psychological or emotional. At least I memorialized it THIS time and will observe any future recurring dreams.
No matter what my dream meant to me personally, the actual sky water made my gardens very happy as they had been parched for such a long time.
Whew! Something strange happened to me as I embarked on a late afternoon walk around the lagoon, about three miles or so.
As I was walking and walking, the sun began to set. I took a photo of the sky even though I know the colors resulted from a couple local brushfires.
Unedited photo by Enchanted Seashells
As I walked up the hill, I guess my mind wandered; at least I think it did. I’m actually not really sure what happened.
At some point I realized that I had lost a chunk of time.
In one way, it seemed like time stood still, and in another way, it seemed as if I had been walking for HOURS, and yet I felt like I wasn’t even really in my own body, or even in my own specific reality.
I was somewhere else, or more accurately, I had BEEN somewhere else; again I’m not sure where.
When I came back from that nowhere land, it’s not that I became dizzy or lightheaded, but I definitely felt a sensation of a jolt back to my physical body when I looked around and realized that I was still walking but I’m not sure how I got to where I was — which probably makes no sense at all.
I said out loud to myself, “Well, that was really strange. Where did I go?“
Where was I? Did I enter a portal to a different dimension? Did I unintentionally astrally project somewhere? A different time and space? I can’t rule out dissociation, but there had been no Immediate preceding traumatic event. I was simply walking.
Was it astral projection? A meditative experience?Did I really enter a portal?
I can’t remember that ever happening before. It wasn’t unpleasant, but I didn’t learn any earthshattering truths about the universe or receive any profound messages from beyond.
If it was a gateway to different spiritual planes or realities, I guess I prematurely returned HERE too soon to retrieve any memories.
Maybe I entered Leon Russell’s “…place where there’s no space or time…”
Friends and I are in a state of shock and mourning for the death of democracy as well as being really angry at the outcome of the election. We’re trying to process the enormity of this presidential election and how our lives are going to be forever negatively impacted by what’s to come, including Project 2025.
We also don’t know why a recount wasn’t immediately demanded, why Kamala Harris conceded so quickly, and why it seems as if that orange POS convicted felon will escape all accountability for his crimes. Jack Smith TRIED. Where is justice? Remember January 6? I’m still sad, still angry.
E. Jean Carroll and Mary Trump warned all of us:
My go-to solution of a little retail therapy at the dollar store didn’t help. This situation is deeply depressing.
I’m not sure I’m ready to hear this, but I discovered the Finnish word/concept of “sisu”, It means strength of will, determination, perseverance, and acting rationally in the face o adversity.
We’re going to need all of that to continue to fight the good fight. Darkness is being exposed all over the universe.
Sisu is not momentary courage, but the ability to sustain that courage. It’s a word that can’t really be fully translated.
From Wiki: Sisu is extraordinary determination in the face of extreme adversity, and courage that is presented typically in situations where success is unlikely. It expresses itself in taking action against the odds, and displaying courage and resoluteness in the face of adversity; to decide on a course of action and adhering to it even if repeated failures ensue.
The English “gutsy” invokes a similar metaphor (one also found in other languages): the Finnish usage derives from sisus, translated as “interior”, and as “entrails” or “guts” or “intestinal fortitude”. Another closely related English concept evokes the metaphor “grit”.
That’s what we need right now: GRIT. GUTS. DETERMINATION. COURAGE.
“Patience is not sitting and waiting, it is foreseeing. It is looking at the thorn and seeing the rose, looking at the night and seeing the day.” Rumi
I was thinking about how much time I’ve spent waiting for people and things in my lifetime.
Just now, the original Angel Boy (son) said, “Wait a minute, I told you I’d walk with you at noon.”
“OK”, I said, “I’ll wait.”
While I’m waiting for him, I decided to be productive and jot down my thoughts.
I’ve waited at music and gymnastics lessons, I’ve waited to pick up kids after school, I’ve waited for doctor’s appointments, I’ve waited for cars to be repaired, I’ve waited for loved ones to come home, I’ve spent countless hours waiting at the airport.
I guess you could say that waiting is a big part of being a mom. We wait for them to lift their heads, to crawl, to walk, to speak, to read, to grow. It’s all about waiting.
I can’t even do the math to figure out how many years I’ve spent waiting, in limbo, for anyone and everyone.
One would think that all that waiting indicates a high level of patience, but I’m not a patient person; I just surrender and radically accept the action of waiting because there’s nothing else to do.
Most of the time I bring a book and read to make the time go faster, and that helps me feel like I’m DOING SOMETHING.
I’m still waiting because Angel Boy’s idea of a “minute” is not the same as mine…I told him I was leaving without him and again, he told me to wait.
So I’m waiting.
What happens next in this scenario is that he’ll find me and say, “Hurry up! I thought you were ready. Let’s GO!” As if I haven’t been waiting for him all this time. LOL.
I literally just said, “I’ve been waiting my whole life to see the northern lights.”
And I hope I do. Hope springs eternal, and that’s exactly what waiting feels like; an eternity.
“Grandma, I need to tell you about YOUR LITTLE BOY!”
It never fails to make me laugh when I hear both Angels refer to their dad that way.
It started a long time ago when I explained to them that not only was I their grandma, but that their dad was my little boy and he’ll ALWAYS be my little boy.
Ever since, and especially when they have some juicy gossip OR a complaint, he’s referred to as “your little boy”.
When he rode his skateboard sans helmet which is absolutely DUMB, Angel Boy 2.0 would call me and tattle on him. When he fell off his surfboard, I was told about it. When he ran through a red light, yup, I had a phone call.
“Grandma, you will not BELIEVE what your little boy did!”
They extract a great deal of enjoyment when I scold their dad about his small crimes and misdemeanors; I’m a constant source of entertainment: “DAD, GRANDMA WANTS TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT YOUR BEHAVIOR!”
Mom isn’t exempt either, but MY little boy bears the brunt of the scandalous chat.
This time was a bit different. AB is now in third grade and his sister will start kindergarten at the same school. Usually Dad walked him as it’s only a couple blocks away and Mom stayed with the baby, now not a baby. (This is a cool deja vu moment for both Dad and me, because HIS elementary school was also in walking distance, and it was a great time to chat and walk there every day.)
I got the phone call….“Do you know what your little boy is going to do when school starts?“
I literally had no idea.
“Because I like to get to school early – Grandma, you know I don’t like to be late — and you know how Dad and I race there every day and sometimes I win –and C can’t EVER wake up, YOUR LITTLE BOY is going to run me to school first, come home, and then bring C. Isn’t that funny?”
“Well, T, why don’t you just wait until your sister is ready and Dad will only have to make one trip?”
“OMG Grandma, you KNOW that won’t work! We have to leave at exactly the right time.”
The backstory is that Angel Boy 2.0 has always been an early riser like Dad (and me), but his sister could sleep all night and most of the day. Sometimes, we still check on her to make sure she’s breathing, but boyohboy can that girl SLEEP.
Her pre-school started at 9:15 and it was often a struggle to get her there on time. Kindergarten starts at 7:55 a.m. so she’s going to have to go to bed extra early to train for a new sleep schedule. There will no longer be an option to let her skip a day or two or come in a couple hours late.
The best part of this story is how much Angel Boy loves school. He can’t wait to get there and always wants to stay after to play with friends.
His dad loved to learn, too, and still does.
It’s markedly different than my experience, that’s for sure. I didn’t like school and couldn’t wait to get home. The only happy part of it for me was the night before when I chose whatever pretty dress I would wear the next day. There were always matching socks and ribbons for my hair.
Being a fashionista is a life long pursuit and I can’t wait to see what the kids wear for their first day.
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 