“12/12/12”

Today, on the auspicious date of 12/12/12, I’m brought to thoughts of what positive is on the edge of our horizons.  There is a feeling in the air of what is more possible than impossible… and even if it for only this day or lingering forward… or only for a nanosecond this is felt, I am truly grateful.  Grateful for freer breathing, even though my nosed is stuffed and my throat raspy from cold and mold and bones ache with exertion in the more than month long, 24/7, efforts to save the proverbial “ranch.”

It is a day of sunshine on the Atlantic, calm in her seabed, lapping softly on the shores of New York, New Jersey, Connecticut and the Eastern seaboard  of these United States Of America where she wreaked havoc being the worst guest who came to dinner ever!

Here in Long Beach, NY., City By The Sea, the almost tranquil looking ocean belies the fierce activity to clean and clear the communities of debris and restoration efforts.  The sounds heard above now gentle waves, are the syncopations of behemoth trucks, hauling away mountains of mucked out heretofore people’s precious possessions turned to garbage heaps; hammers, saws and shouts of demolition and construction workers and home owners themselves ripping out soggy carpets, floors and walls of homes and businesses which were under sea and sewer water from inches to many feet high; the beeping of sanitation trucks backing up to the seemingly never-ending disappearing and reappearing piles of wreckage; the scrape of metal on macadam from bulldozers pairing like partners in a tag-team tango of  ‘push together, pick up and throw;’ the heart bending sounds of breaking furniture, appliances and part of our lives and homes crunching and grinding as man made machines and claws of steel squeeze and press personal pieces of us all into unrecognizability; the swish of street cleaners still trying to pick up sand and dump trucks ca-clunking to add their loads to the over 4 story high, block-long mountain of sand that made its way from leveled dunes and sea barriers to covering streets enough to make them look like unpaved, rural dirt roads and leaving the floors of homes and businesses with a thick, gritty carpet unimagined in any city or suburb-dwelling owner’s imagination; the rough rr..rr.. rotoring of helicopter blades as armed forces still chop their airways over our shores.  Above all, every day, all day and all night, there is the symphony of the sound of motors of all kinds moving in their own cacaphonous constancy without surcease.

It is hard to remember what silence sounds like. This singer, songwriter, cannot listen to music yet.  I wear earplugs to sleep at night.  It is the only piece of peace of sensory respite from raucousness and rawness of life now.  This is a tiny gift I give myself.

The hot water of a shower of clean water warms and cleans more than body; it heals heart and soul and calls the gratitude out of every pore and cell.

We are fragile in this stage of recovery…not much skin on…in the face of mountainous layers of frustration, red tape b.s. and holding-in our tears of grief and loss,  we may be easy to fly into blurting out verbal  “f..you!”  or retreat into despairing silence of feeling like there may never be a ‘normal’ for us again.

Yet, here it is..12/12/12, an auspicious date in time, after this historic, life-altering experience in America…poised on the cusp of what good can come of emptying one’s heart; broken open; making room for more love to enter port and one’s life, ripped from its moorings, making room for so much new good to dock that it might make our eyes pop out like boing-boing glasses!

It is 12:12 PM on 12/12/12.

I join my beloved, Tom, in stopping.  Stopping for greater work which is calling.

Up here in the off site rental shelter of apt. “Mt 6 Manjaro,” we are now standing still in partnership; looking out the window over the Atlantic Ocean, the communities of Long Island, Queens,  NY City, New Jersey and Connecticut; sending the light of love into the home which sheltered me and my children for over 30 plus years; expanding that circle of light to include sending loving energy to every neighbor and neighborhood; every community, city, our country and all the countries of our planet; thanking, in advance, for the highest good for all.

We know, by feeling the weight of warm energy in our outstretched hands and arms, that we are joined by a host of Angels; by you and every Earth Angel; by God, Spirit, Mother Earth, Father Sky, Master Healers and the Benevolence of the Universe at this time of great upheaval and change.

This is a time of great opportunity; even as outer appearances look like what this earthy Earth Angel calls ” gifts in shitty wrapping paper.”

This is a time of clearing and room-making within us, and around us, for manifestation of greater Highest Good for all.

The depth of our grief will match the height of joy coming.

Blessings In Light and Love and Thanks for your willingness to be present at this time in our world.

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