Good morning!

I have been up a while, puttering around, in fact I have been awake for hours, but did not feel the draw to write my morning until now.

Now I am ready.

Sometimes it doesn't seem like I am ready, and so I put things off. When I was "on punishment" at a branch at one point way-back-when, I remember having some retirement IRA docs to put through for a client. I had never done that particular task before as I had never actually been in a branch, and so I was unfamiliar with the process. I put it off and off, always doing what was easier, or even nothing at all... The paperwork became a task which became a duty which became an albatross around my neck ... until of course, I had to get it done, having made it all a lot harder on myself than it needed to be!

The point is, when I put things off, be it taxes or cleaning or coming clean or what-have-you, whatever it is seems to grow bigger and heavier and then almost impossible. Dread gathers and accumulates, until the thing is blown way out of proportion.

Over the last week, I am/WAS in the throes of that putting-something-off situation, not moving forward on my book (The Amethyst Journey) project, instead doing all manner of anything else BUT what I know in my heart I am meant to be doing right now.

Dread. Accumulating. Ouch.

So the last couple of days, I called in the big guns, asking for help from Above, calling all angels... Dr. Bombay, Dr. Bombay... lol

When we ask, there is ALWAYS an answer. Just not always as we imagined it would come. (In fact, in my experience, it is NEVER how I imagined it would come lol!) This time is no exception... yesterday, the response started, as I somehow found myself driving to the annual North Carolina Seafood Festival in Morehead City, about a half-hour away.

Now, I had not planned to go to the festival. In fact, I had planned, happily, to NOT go to the festival. I have been (once) in the past, and the memory of the heavy crowds and the heavy smell of fried food was a sufficient impediment to my going ... or so I thought!

A friend of mine on FaceBook, Ginger Garner, had sent me a notice about her singing on the main stage at noon at the festival. I had been surprised when i got it; I know Ginger through some yoga classes I took with her last year here on Emerald Isle (which I haven't been practicing much, so I hadn't been planning on seeing her, truth be told, chicken that I can be ... lol.)

Between me not yoga-ing and also being averse to crowds and the sight of people eating as they walk, a wall of human flesh and fried food, I hadn't planned on going yesterday.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I found myself on my way, driving along Highway 58 to Morehead City!

In retrospect, maybe I shouldn't be surprised because I have been known to travel even further than that for music, but still I found myself sitting behind the wheel of my rental putt-putt, wondering how this had happened. I mean, I was there when I took my bathing suit off in favor of a dress and some sandals, I was there as I got my car keys out etc ... but it all seemed a bit unreal.

As I neared the bridge off the island and over to Morehead, I was still looking to get out of it, mush as I really did want to support Ginger ... Parking is norm ally not fun at the festival: I saw that as an "out", telling myself, "If I don't find parking, I will just turn 'round and head right back!"

I found a spot on the street right away. Hmmm.

Okay, I guess I would go ahead and go on in ...

When I got to the main tent (with trials and tribulations along the way which will go unrecounted here - for now! lol) I arrived at the show. I heard Ginger's amazing voice before I saw her and the group which she had assembled, Musicians for Missions. These musicians are all about raising money for Haiti, which is pretty cool.

But what happened after my arrival was much more than pretty cool.

It was a miraculous, healing. Weird.

I saw Ginger up on the stage, singing her heart out. Singing her heart. Singing her truth.

When she broke into a beautiful song by someone called Ayo called (I think) Thank You, I could feel her heart, and her huge gratitude... and it unleashed my own.

I sat there, in a crowd all by myself, crying like an idiot (fool for love), trying to stay cool, surreptitiously wiping at my eyes like I had something in them, rocking my body to the music to cover my shoulders' quaking.

DAMN! What was going on here? I know that when Truth/Love knocks on the (sometimes fastened shut) door of my heart, tears ensue. I get that. But this was embarrassing! Yet instead of tightening up, I breathed into this release, relaxing, and asked my Self: why am I crying?

The answer was clear and immediate: because she is doing what I want to be doing!

Not singing, mind you! (At least I don't think so, at least not for now (though I have found a singing/guitar teacher for my return to Paris.)

No. What Ginger was doing, what moved me so much, is that she was allowing her soul to use her body, to create, to speak/sing her Truth, to create Beauty.

Now THAT'S what I'm talking about!

And so that was yesterday. After she finished, after a rendition of R-E-S-P-E-C-T that was so fresh and new it made me laugh out loud, and a nice Ain't No Mountain High Enough, I left ... before speaking with her, as she had a crowd around her.

I couldn't wait. I had had enough of crowds and so found my way back to my car, back to my island, back to my house, decidedly NOT to think about what had happened.

Then this morning, I woke up early, and lay there asking that anything that I have created to block the flow of my soul through my body be cleared.

My first impulse was to clean and clear, throwing out junk food (which I know blocks my clarity) and clearing my space with music, dancing and incense. (Hey, a girl's gotta have some fun, right? ;-)

Then I pulled a card from the Archangel Michael cards a friend left me when she visited. The card said (drumroll, please.....)


Damn! There really is "Someone" out there (I will recount a card story that'll knock yer socks off one day, but not today...)

That Someone apparently knows me well, and has a sense of humor to boot!

I am, admittedly, a Commitment-o-phobe.

In the past, in relationships, I have been mocked and called the runaway bride... my longest and most successful relationship was with my cat, Beckett (RIP).

In the past, about hobbies, I never used to stick to anything, my attention easily distracted by the next shiny toy, the next thing I'd like to taste, to try, to learn...

In the past, I have talked about finishing my first book (I won't even talk here about the childrens' books I have written and have left to their own devices, abandoned - there oughtta be a law against it!) and writing the others, but still dawdle, allowing myself to be distracted.

Well, I asked for help, and here it was.

As far as I am concerned, the last two days held a one-two punch: yesterday, I was so-sweetly reminded of the bliss of connection and creation, and today, what I am blocking myself with was made excruciatingly clear to me.

Like the song by Ayo that I heard for the first time yesterday though Ginger's great voice-cum-heart: Thank you for the blessings, thank you for the lessons."


So to get to that place of soul movement to singing my song (so to speak) and finishing my book, I need to make a commitment. To walk the walk. Or write the write. Or something.

And now, at great long last, I Am ...

READY! from Emerald Isle...