Kathryn Hudson Today

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Sunday 20 May 2012

Bells and Birds and Wondrous Words

Bonjour!

Today is a tranquil Sunday here in Paris, though gray and after all yesterdays' rain, definitely a bit - brrrr! - chill.

I headed out early and planned to turn right toward the store to grab a baguette and a few other things while it was open (supermarkets close at 1pm on Sundays here since it's Paris; other stores stay closed, with rare exception.)

It's one of the things I like about France. Sunday has a different feel to it, like it did when I was a kid growing up in the Bronx. On Sunday mornings back then, Broadway was deserted, almost a ghost-town, complete with tumbleweeding newspapers drifitng under the El (elevated train).

Maybe not bucolic, but peaceful.

That's kind of me, actually these days: not bucolic, but peaceful. lol

More and more peaceful every day, even living in the middle of another large cosmopolitan city in this period of historic change and upheaval.

Yup! Peaceful.

And I'm filled with it today. Up-to-my-eyeballs and spilling over peace. The peace that knows that fear has no place here.

The way my day began helped...

When I stepped out of my building to turn RIGHT to the store, the church bells rang out from the LEFT. Specifically, from the spire of Saint Christophe de Javel church on the other side of the river. I watched in wonder as my feet turned that way, seemingly of their own volition...

(I should say that I was brought up a Catholic and still hold the spirit of the institution in high esteem. The support I felt from that Source held me as I grew when things were difficult.) So it is no surprise that I decided to follow my feet - which were following the bells and my heart - across the Mirabeau Bridge. As I crossed, I was amazed as a blue heron with one torn wing flew over my head as I was on my way to the church, to Mass.

There, the young priest who signed my papers for the Way of St. James (an introductory letter from your parish to parishes along the way, allowing me to get my credenciel or pilgrim's passport when I walked from France across the north of Spain to Compostela last year. I was happy to see him...

Even happier when I heard his sermon. He spojke of three words: "heritage", "carrying on" (which is one word in French lol), and "becoming". That a relationship with God/ the Divine is our heritage. That the work of Christ (redeeming work of peace) is ours to carry on. And that it is also ours to become like him, to embrace the Divine within us.

Enlightened words from a pulipit always cheer me... and YEP, I was pretty happy!

So much so that I stopped to say so, on my way out. Sadly, he seeemd a bit surprised, saying, "Oh, it's good you remembered the words." I responded, "An invitation to become, to step into our divine potential? How could I forget?" The sun came out as I re-crossed the bridge. Filled with hope, I got my baguette with a spring in my step and a song on my lips.

This morning I am grateful for morning bells, Sunday smells (of cooking, a Sunday afternoon thng in France everywhere) and wide-eyed wondrous words from a priest in a pulpit.

Tolling for Thee from Paris...

Tolling peacefully from Paris...

parish I

Saturday 19 May 2012

When to Fold 'Em

Bonjour!

I am sitting here at my desk in beautiful Paris this morning admiring the sunshine on the green of my pal Tree, whose profusion of leaves now impede my view of the Seine. Which normally I could see from here, but now I have to just "know" that it is still flowing, just over... there!

Guess I'll have to go for a run/walk to see the river, which is calling me this morning. I love Paris early in the morning. Even when I'm not supposed to be here...

Alright, alright, correction: I AM supposed to be here.

We are ALWAYS exactly where we are supposed to be, even if we're not in the place we WANT to be. In such cases, cases like mine this morning, when we find ourselves NOT where we had planned to be, there is almost certainly a lesson to be learned. A take-away to be recognized. A jewel to be uncovered in what might seem like dirt.

Of course, Paris ain't dirt! lol

That said, up until a couple of days ago, I was pretty sure that today - this weekend - would have me teaching in Belgium, at the home/spiritual teaching center of some friends.

BRAHHHHHHHH! (sound of a game-show buzzer announcing, in no uncertain terms, how VERY wrong we are.) WRONG.

Not wrong about the friends part - sh&^ happens - but about being in Belgium.

After all, I'm in Paris right?

From the beginning, this Belgium workshop was not easy.... and when something is meant to be, it's NOT supposed to be a struggle.

Then a couple of days ago, there was a(nother) cancelleation: a certain person was willing to eat her registration downpayment, a fishy sign. (That person had been most enthusiastic from the beginning, the first one to sign up.) And then the last of a long series of sad emails from my friend and co-organizer who had invited me to come teach, saying that her husband had once again gone "off" about the ANGEL workshop. Something else had pissed him off, the situation was tense...

The winds of change were battering me. I got tired of hanging on so tightly.

So I let go.

And, swwoped up by angel wings, I landed here in Paris (which is not half-bad!) ;-)

It's not always easy to let go. I - we? - seem to come with hands that grip, like the old action figures.

I am usually pretty good about letting go these days, but with this situation, releasing and opening my hands took me a bit. Sure, I LOVE teaching the workshop, but it was more than that. The thing is, letting go is me saying to Spirit, "OK, OK, I get it. I am not in the driver's seat here, YOU are."

ouch.

Letting go requires a leap of faith, a step into a void, awaiting that confirmation that we will be caught. Hopefully, swooped up into the arms of angels and brought to rest somewhere nice. But in the pre-swooping instant, our faith - my trust - is tested. Can I let go of my Bronx-style cynicism learned so young? Can I trust?

Apparently, YES! :-)

Happily, I am not the only one who was swooped up. Some folks who were to participate will come instead to the ANMGELS workshop at Vence (in the South of France) in July instead, which is cool. Others, I'll see at another time in Belgium, probably not until next year. I spoke to each and to all, and am convinced that the decision is for the best.

Now that I've been swooped (again), I see again, and can trust, that everything - ALWAYS - happens for a reason.

Reasons, take-aways? OH, yeah!

One: The experience will help our hosts work some things out.

Two: I need to always set out terms of a location rental and all necessary details in writing well in advance, even (especially) with friends.

THREE (and most important for yours truly): I could have avoided the whole freakin' fiasco.

When something is meant to be, things move forward seamlessly, easily, without effort. They FLOW. With workshops, this usually means an enthusiastic response from (ALL) proprietors of the space, quickly-filled groups, love and positive energy abounding.

When something is NOT meant to happen, we (ok, ok - I - lol) sometimes try anyway, going against the Flow, forcing the thing. The difference is tangible: we introduce into our creation the element of struggle, of swimming upstream. The moment this project felt like swimming upstream, I should have bailed. Which, if I'm honest, would have been months ago. Nothing moved easily for this workshop, in clear contrast to the others.

Essentially, it's our choice: we either stay flexible and allow the Flow to carry us OR we swim upstream.

I either pass through portals peacefully OR I have my shoulder jammed up against a door, shoving at it, pushing to get in.

I either choose to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders, OR I hand it over to be swooped.

Of course, technically, i could have kept pushing. I could be in Belgium right now, in the middle of a family feud, trying to teach. But fortunately, I folded my hand and got up from that particular table.

Knowing when to fold 'em is critical. To be able to fold easily, we need to be free of personal attachment.

In this instance, I was WAY attached: I WANTed to go, me, the human being that I am. I wanted to see the space (which is supposed to be a beautiful spot to work, in the middle of Nature.) I wanted to see my friends, especially she with whom I was organizing. I was SO attached that I forced it. I kept blinders on and ignored the (myriad!) signs. Things which slowed my progress. Spirit whispering and then speaking to me and finally SHOUTing and jumping up and down, waving their wings to get my attention. Clear signs that this was neither the right time nor the right place for the work.

oops.

Oh, well, I'm here to learn!

And now, my ah-hah! I get it: if I don't play the game open and connected to Spirit, I am not embracing a natural advantage. Like playing poker with a blindfold on, unable to read what's going on at the table. Which will cause me to sometimes hold 'em when I shouldn't. Or to get nervous and fold 'em too soon, just when the game is getting interesting...

Yep, now I get it! The BEST way for me to play is with Spirit, listening and watching for the signs (like an easy FLOW towards a workshop, like Vence or New York) so I know - with that calm inner "knowing" - when it's time to hold, and when to fold.

As for today? Well, that's easy! I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be!

I'd been asking for Help with finding time. I needed a block of time to finish my out-with-the-old deep clearing (seems I had over-planned my schedule, quelle surprise. lol). So today's a perfect gift, a jewel: a day for (Collaborative) decisions on holding and...

Folding from Paris...

Thursday 17 May 2012

To Tweet or not to Tweet

Bonjour,

The BEST thing about today's topic is that it led me back to the Jackson Five and Rockin' Robin (Tweet! TwiddledeeTweet!") So before writing, I went to You Tube and posted it on my wall, and danced around in my pajamas. Which is a FUN way to start the day, and highly recommended!

Tweet! Tweet!

On that theme, this morning I also went to my Twitter account to see what was what. I set it up SO long ago ... and then forgot all about it. It seemed (seems?) like a lot of trouble, sending out little updates, messages, etc., and for what?

The idea I had at the time was this: "Who CARES if I am eating the best pain au chocolat (which by the way literally means chocolate bread and is a chocolate-filled croissant-thingy, quite astonishing and well-worth mentioning lol) EVER?"

But I digress. :-)

Today when I went to my Twitter account, I saw that I have 13 followers, and I 'bout near fell off my chair. Talk about heady with power! lol

Seriously, though, I started to look at tweets/pages of folks I have studied with like Doreen Virtue (ANGELS), Frans Stiene (REIKI) and Christine Day (Pleiadian energy), Mike Dooley (who TUTS his very-funny-and-astonishingly-deep-sometimes Tweets). Looking through their tweets, I found...

I care.

I AM interested in hearing from some of the people some of the time. Not all the time, not every detail of their life, but SOMEthings, SOME of the time. And so I reactivated my twitter account because now the 'Who cares?" argument is less compelling to me.

So I might just start to tweet (a BIT) as I go. I may start using this virtual tool a bit more in the future.

But I will NOT be tweeting anybody about any future pain-au-chocolat moments. And THAT's a ...

Promise from Paris...

Tuesday 15 May 2012

Dancing with MySelf

Bonjour!

This morning, I am being bombarded by signs: delight! Shine! Open up! DANCE!

And not a moment too soon!

For the last week or so, I've been digging deep to do some spring cleaning. As part of that, in the last couple of days I've been working through some practices in a book called SPIRITED by Rebecaa Rosen, a psychic medium out of Denver. A good friend suggested it, and when that particular friend siuggests something, I ALWAYS listen. There is ALWAYS something strong in her suggestions, as off-hand as they might seem, as lightly as she might toss them my way. Since she lives very far away in California (she left Paris some years ago), we don't speak often.

So when she suggested SPIRITED to me, I got my Amazon on and procured myself a copy of this book designed to augment and clarify access to Spirit.

Now, I'm not new to the block, mind you lol. I've been doing similar work for a long while... in fact, I TEACH a lot of this stuff. But it feels different somehow. And I am sur it is no coincidence that the book arrives in my life just before heading off to teach the ANGELS workshop in Belgium this Friday-Saturday-Sunday, a workshop which I am ALREADY feeling will be very strong.

So, yes, I've accepted to go deeper into my stuff to do an intensive spring cleaning on ... mySelf. (And it is NO coincidence that it follows a deep-clean in my house: that Feng Shue stuff is NO JOKE.)

The activities - seemingly unrelated - I have undertaken in the last week line up now to be recognized. Deep tissue ayurvedic massage. Plunging into emotion with the help of songs like the ones noted the other day [|/post/2012/05/13/Adele-and-Alannis]! which help bring old unfelt emotions to the surface for expression and release. Mother's Day and grieving. And now this book.

Dig, recognize, feel, release. It's been over a week of dancing in the darkness with mySelf - my shadow Self, if you will. Sacred movement, yes, but not for the faint of heart. How wonderful it is to emerge, finally, today.

AND BOY AM I READY! LOL

This morning, before even my eyes were open, information was coming fast and furious. Lots of ideas for the workshop (it changes a bit every time, depending on the group.) I recognize yet again the cycles of this path: going into the stillness, and exploding into action!

The clarion call of Spirit has sounded!

Angels abound, and it is now very clear deceased loved ones of each member of the group are also going to be supporting our work. (Weird, but YES ... and thank you!) ;-)

I open mySelf to the flow, a newly cleared vessel, thankful and ready.

It's time for a little Billy Idol and to enjoy...

Dancing in the Light with my Self from Paris...

Sunday 13 May 2012

Adele and Alannis (A "Good" Cry?)

Bonjour!

I woke up this morning with that Adele song, "Someone Like You" in my head, and itt won't quit. It's strange because there is not "trigger" that i can see in my life at this time, no recent break-up, and it's not like I just discoverede the song (I am behind the curve here in France, true, but then I was behind the curve back in the Sates too lol.

So, I am posing the question, "What's up wit dat?" (in true Bronx fashion.)

And then I headed to You Tube... where the announcer at the beginning of the video


said something which sort of answered the question: that some songs bring us BACK in time to moments of the PAST.

It's no surprise to me that music plays such an important role in our lives... and this morneing that role seems to take on an even greater importance, an emptying, purifying one.

The other day in a store here in Paris I was surprised to hear a familiar voice singing a very familiar song: Alannis Morisette singing "You Oughta Know:"

THAT song accompanied a broken heart I lived through many years ago. There was a time when I could not hear the song without feeling anger rise and hurt and tears. Now, walking through the frozen goods aisle (which holds AMAZING dinners of top-chef quality, by the way,) I heard the song and felt...

...nothing.

Well, to be honest, I felt a bit shocked at the violence of the emotion, the vilgarity of the lyrics, lol, I guess I am really getting old! But otherwise?

Nothing. Not an echo of the past, not a stamped foot, and certainly not a tear.

I think that breakup songs, or songs of loss (I lost it again last night when they surprised me with Ave Maria - happy Mother's Day, Mom)) - or other songs which touch a chord in us - do us a real favor. They allow us to FEEL the feelings we have - which arise in the normal course of business on this sometimes-harsh planet - so that we can evacuate them.

Too often, we swallow and squelch unpleasant emotions... hell, we are often taught to do just that! PDEs (Public displays of Emotion) are not big in most circles, not socially acceptable. Which is reall too bad...

That said, I'll add that in some situations, it really is perhaps better NOT to indulge every emotion with expressions (jealousy comes to mind) right there, on the spot. Unless it's done with opennes and maybe some humor "Wow, I am actually feeling jealous of you right now, can yopu believe it? lol What is that telling me?" (Jealousy always indicates something that we feel called to do, at a soul level. It is NEVER really about the other person.) But until that becomes common, accepted, knowledge, best to hold off experssing jealousy in public.

In public. But privately? EXPRESS IT! Recognize it, chew at it, figure it out - why not? - but EXPRESS it. Write a letter then burn it, paint, dance furiously, or sing - do whatever you need to do to give that emotion expression!

Because if we don't, there are consequences.

EVERY time we swallow or squelch an emotion, that emotion doesn't go way: it just digs in, deep inside, and hides out. Crystallizes, maybe. And if we do enough of that (and here I can speak from experience lol) things inside can get a bit, er, crispy. And evenutally our heart can become encrusted with these crystals, closed in, like a great big, crispy, crusty diamond.

Diamonds are beautiful, but they're not very warm.

So songs like Adele's and yes, Alannis' too, can help do some miraculous Grinch-Christmas work on us. We cry. With every tear we allow, a little cold crystal melts. If we do it consciously, even faster, that turns UP the heat. But either way, each tear does some work.

I think that's why we some of us instinctively plunge into melancholy music (or film) from time to time, allowing ourselves "a good cry." We can use those times to clear out the closets within, clostes which can get pretty charged up and chaotic in "this ever-changing world in which we live in". Something inside of us knows what we need; we each have an inner sage, which nudges us occasionally toward the "good cry". (If we allow it.) Allowing swallowed and squelched feelings to come to the surface in a good cry. Maybe that's why the expression exists, "a good cry."

Because it IS good. Good for the eyes and their ducts, good for the heart, good for the soul. And eventually, when the tears have been let go, those songs do not have the same effect on us. They have done their job. (And maybe we just appreciate the amazing vocals.)

And what is REALLY cool is that if we go about such moments consciously - knowing exactly what we are getting up to - we can recognize the healing that takes place, allowing that healing to touch us even more deeply, to hold our hearts with (our own) warm hands of love and understanding, to defrost and then warm, and open, our heart.

Because as poowerful as such songs are, that power is nothing compared to the power of a heart willing to stay soft, open and...

Vulnerable from Paris...

Saturday 12 May 2012

Mother's Day Weekend

Bonjour!

The sun is shining today as I clean out closets and switch out wardrobes. The aire is fresh and pure in the morning breeze; yesterday's rain did some deep spring cleaning as well...

This is not Mother's day weekend here in France, but of course my thoughts are flying to Moms I know and love "over there" (or reverse over there, maybe?) Like some first-timer Mother's Day Moms (you know who you are lol.) And my sister who tunred out to be one of the best Moms I've ever seen. And my godmother, distance doesn't diminish the memory of your guidance when I was young. And my friends who really rock the whole motherhood thing - you know who you are too.

But most of all, I'm thinking of you Mom, today, tomorrow and every day.

I miss you and I love you. Thanks for letting me know that you're still hangin around, thanks for your support and love.

Happy Mother's Day tomorrow from Paris...

Friday 11 May 2012

The Fish Can Eat Something Else (Walking in the Rain)

Bonjour!

As for the title of this blog, I might add, or SomeONE Else! ;-)

Today it's raining steadily here in Paris, the kind of day which, while it might inspire me to action, that action is certainly NOT to cross Paris to let some crazy fish eat my feet!

A fish pedicure was part of the plan today, a light moment sandwiched into a heavy schedule...

But it's POURING!

Since yesterday was hot and airless, this morning's rain is most welcome: cooling, refreshing, washing clean the city streets and towers.

And the city people. ;-)

City people like me. And so, even though the day may not inspire me to swim with the fishes (at least my feet), it DOES inspire me to undertake all other errands today on foot. With good rain gear. Office Depot (which exists here also), the printer's, the computer store, all can be reached on foot in a reasonable period of time, say less than 30 minutes from here and between destinations...

So instead of feeding the fishies, today my feet will feed my soul as I walk in the fresh, clear (wet) air. My heart will laugh as I splash in any puddles I can find as I follow the quai path along the Seine as much as possible and hang with the duckies. An atypical work day before I come back to transform my apartment into a meditation-CD factory lol.

SO much gratitude! 'Cuz I just love...

Walking in the Rain in Paris...

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