Author and Inspired Writer

There’s this guy, Jim Palmer, who’s written a fascinating book called, “Divine Nobodies:  Shedding Religion to Find God (and the unlikely people who help you).”  I bought it.  I read it.  And I got a feeling that here was the start of something new, a new way of doing church, a new way of living Christianity.  We’d been chatting back and forth on FaceBook, and I told Jim how impressed I was with his book, and how grateful I was to be a witness to this “new thing,” and I asked if I could send him a copy of my book, “holy cards: dead women talking” as a thank you.  Sure! he said, so I sent it along.

I knew exactly when he received it because that morning he posted one of my poems on his FaceBook page, Joan of Arc, and matched the poem with some awesome art work from www.deviantart.com .  What a lovely, and totally unexpected, way to start my day!  People were “liking” it and leaving wonderful, supportive comments and I was grinning so much The Mister started to complain about the blinding glare from my teeth!  Needless to say, I thanked Jim profusely, and he said he was enjoying reading my book.

The next day, and the next day, and the next day and again today, Jim posted a poem with matching art work, and oh mercy! the response has been utterly overwhelming!  (Jim wrote me again this morning, and said he was REALLY enjoying reading my book!  And I’m REALLY enjoying his REALLY enjoying reading my book!)  People from as far away as New York State, Australia, and Indonesia are asking where they can buy “holy cards,” so if you will excuse this shameless bit of self-promotion – world-wide readers and my American friends can find “holy cards: dead women talking” on www.amazon.com .  Canadian readers will find it at www.amazon.ca and Windsor and area readers can send me a message via FaceBook, and I’ll see about mailing out a copy to them.

The book is two and a half years old.  To say I was not expecting this resurgence of interest in it, is putting it mildly!  But I am delighted!  And all day long my heart sings, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Last week, I received a “mini-reading” from a medical intuitive.  It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time, but simply found the cost prohibitive.  Then I came across an ad for Alison Anton on FaceBook for a free mini-reading if you “liked” her page.  So like it, I did.

It took a few days for her to get back to me, but when she did, she gave me a reading full of hope.  For the past seven years, since I came off HRT, I’ve been struggling with severe menopausal symptoms, especially hot flashes.  The last couple of years have seen a marked improvement, and some days now I experience very few “power surges.”  (Today unfortunately, is not one of those days, but tomorrow will be better.)  However, I was disappointed that after so long my hormones still weren’t balanced.

Alison told me that my upper chakras were quite active, and there was a beautiful turquoise energy in the 6th chakra and some gold sparks coming off the pituitary gland.  This brightness and activity she found “quite healthy.”  She said she could see that I had “done some work” in past lives and present life to get to this active space in the higher centers and that “there’s a natural flow here that is willing and able to communicate to the rest of the chakras and glands.”  She encouraged me to use my spirit to communicate with my body and gave me a visualization exercise to help me achieve that.  Lovely!

Then something I wasn’t expecting – she said my early hysterectomy was “an opportunity to validate this higher communication…and THAT can direct your female energy correctly in the body.”  Well!  That’s the first time I’d ever thought of my hysterectomy as an “opportunity.”  I’m still letting that thought roll around in my brain.

But what I took from this was that it’s my spiritual energy that will heal my physical self.  So anything I can do to strengthen my spirit will show in my increasing bodily health.  I had that backwards.  I thought, strengthen the body, then work on the spirit.  But no, grasshopper, it’s all connected.  And how do I strengthen my spirit?  Well, meditation and positive thinking help, as well as reading insightful books.  But I’m convinced that acts of generosity and service also go a long way towards spiritual healing.  They’ve determined that a single helpful action benefits three people – the one who performs it, the one who receives it, and the one who witnesses it.  And what is the benefit?  All three experience an increase in endorphins and serotonin levels.  From the spirit to the body!

My profound thanks to Alison and her insights.  My hope was flagging, but now it’s flying high!

Her web site – www.antonhealing.com

So I went to visit a friend of mine to give her a little gift for her sister in hospital.  I don’t visit this friend very often, or even at all, because they have a long haired dog, a golden retriever, and I’m allergic.  But the need was great, her sister was very ill, and I thought I could certainly tolerate 10 or 15 minutes there.

I pushed the doorbell on their backyard gate, and who should come bounding out the door to greet me but that golden horse-sized dog they call Titan.  The shock wave caused by his barking nearly knocked me off my feet, but I squatted down on my haunches and began an animated conversation with him of the “who’s a good boy?” “such a pretty puppy” variety.  Titan abruptly stopped barking, cocked his head to one side and looked for all the world as if he were saying, “Wait here for a second, would ya?  I’ll be right back.”  He disappeared into the house and returned, this time with a ball in his mouth and a curious look in his eye.

“Well human?” he seemed to be saying.  “What do you think?  Are you a play-ah?”  He put the ball down and stared up at me from his side of the gate.  “Here’s how this works.  You throw this round bouncy thing, and I’ll chase it and bring it back to you, whereupon you will throw the aforementioned round bouncy thing again, and we’ll repeat the process until it’s too dark to play anymore.  Savvy?”

Well, I did savvy, but just then my friend appeared and I followed her into the house, Titan at my heels,  ball still in mouth.  I carried on my conversation with my friend in spite of Titan’s repeated slapping of my legs with that baseball bat of a tail of his, until he finally gave up, withdrew to his spot on the floor and flopped himself down with a disgruntled huff dislodging the ball which he followed across the floor with sad, disappointed eyes.

A few days later, I paid a condolence call to my friend on the death of her sister.  Titan looked up from his basket, barked at me once and disappeared into the next room.  When he came back, he had a chew toy in his mouth which he presented at my feet.

“OK, human, clearly you weren’t ready for the round bouncy thing.  This here, see here? human, are you looking? right, this thing here is called a toy – toy-eee.  See?  The principle is the same – you throw said toy-eee and I will retrieve said toy-eee.  Come on, human!  Even a cat could do this!  I mean, it wouldn’t, but it could.  And you’re more intelligent than a cat, no?”

When I kept talking to my friend, and sadly ignoring the dog, he started banging my thighs with his head.

“Human, I swear to God, if you don’t look down at me, right now, there will be consequences!  Consequences that will make you say, ‘Bad dog!  Very bad dog!’  Do you want that human?  Do you?”

It was time to go.  I gave my friend a hug, and turned to leave.  Whining ensued.

“I was kidding, human!  There won’t be any consequences.  Sheesh!  Can’t you take a joke?  I’m a good boy!  Really!  I just want you to throw the damn toy!  Where are you going?  Come back!”

When I go back, and I will go back, I’ll throw the ball or the toy just to show Titan what a good human I can be.

It’s been a heartbreaking time – two funerals in as many days, one a dear friend and sister choir member.  The church was packed and condolence messages poured in from all over, a wonderful tribute to a gentle and unassuming woman who never uttered a word against anyone nor ever had anyone utter a word against her.  Six weeks ago, she was singing with us in the choir.  Now her absence is so keenly felt, it seems unthinkable that we will have to move on without her.

The other funeral was for a veteran, the brother of my brother-in-law.  The ceremony was so dignified, with full military honours, and our former pastor, the chaplain of the Legion, officiating.  It was held at 7:30 pm., an unsual time for a funeral I thought, and the late time led to this conversation with the Mister the day before the funeral:

The Mister:  “After the funeral, I’ll drive you home, then I’ll go back for the reception at the Legion.”

Me:  “OK.”

Then, driving down to the funeral…

The Mister:  “I’m not sure I’ll go to the Legion afterward.”

Me:  “OK.”

Then at the funeral…

Colleen (relative of the deceased):  “Are you coming to the Legion?”

Me:  “No.”

Rick (friend of the deceased):  Are you coming to the Legion?”

The Mister:  “Yes.”

Me:  “Yes?”

The Mister:  “Yes.”

Me:  “OK.”

Then at home…

Me:  “I’ve noticed you’ve taken off your hat and coat, chucked your tie, planted your butt in your TV watchin’ chair, and are stuffing your face with trail mix.  I gather you’re not going to the Legion?”

The Mister:  “No.”

Me:  “Ooooh kaaaaay.”

So you see gentle reader, whatever else may happen, The Mister can always be counted on to keep me on my toes.  ‘Scuse me while I go lie down.  I feel a headache coming on.