Beauty,

None of the following was a dream.

Sky and Ruby were still sleeping. My mama heart cooed with the early Mourning Doves. Pulling on my On tennies, I smiled, knowing there was a surprise outside, and there she was: A rainbow arching to greet me as soon I slipped out the door and banked left. It hadn’t rained, but there she rose from a band above the horizon. Fat and pale and true. Rainbows can be fleeting, but she only brightened for nearly an hour as I traversed the paths, climbed into the wide, wash of autumn leaves, and ascended to the trail for a better view. Pura Vida whispers.

Hello, heart wink. Thank you, Rainbow. You know how often I encourage eyes up for the signs everywhere. And this welcome banner seemed sparkling with happiness in my heart that my son, Kai, was traveling on Hawai’i Island this week with his ohana of littles. How many more stars would they see at night? How many wild goats, pigs, or grazing horses might they experience? How would the warm, blue ocean soothe their tides? How much aloha would kindle something in their DNA, someday reminding them how deeply they are connected to this ancient, sacred place? My spirit flushes with gratitude even now, remembering how we nearly every day picked up our children from their school under a rainbow. There are marvelous benefits to living and learning on the edge of the rain shadow. And there is no better pot of gold than the embrace of love.

Whether it’s babies, furbabies, friends, or all this heaven on earth rolling in the mysteries of evolution, love is our most powerful teacher. Back then. And even now. Even from my sliver in the fields of Northern California. The Gold Rush continues. What nuggets can we sift out and find today? Get outside and put on your perfecting “God Goggles” to get the inside scoop.

But what happens when we mingle in “the world?” Can we use the “God Goggles” here, too?

My friend, Poet, had a spare ticket to the Color Madness mixer at the Crocker Art Museum in Sacramento a few nights ago. I’ve not been in a crowd of people since Mom’s memorial, save a few glorious dances where Jane lifts away and Source dances, but I knew it was a good push to lift my head for a new perspective. What a smash cut for me to find myself walking/half dancing with my sweet, witty friend along the edge of the living, dancing rainbow of the featured artist Raúl Gonzo and hundreds of his artistic admirers. Gonzo’s featured specialty in this showing was campy, hyper-realism—saturated palettes of hot pink, electric green, lemon yellow, and shocking turquoise—mod 50’s and 60’s styled models in eccentric attire and cotton candy sets caught in wildly staged videos but for this evening dropped into two-dimensional frames that grew brightly painted skeleton legs in 3D out of the oversized, equally vivid frames. Advertising gone mad. Staged fake telethons of half-hearted fading stars answering phones while the MC seemed more carnival barker than a magnet for goodwill. Consumerism and standards of beauty in a mascara smear of tears. Could I simply observe? Did I have to feel? Or I could choose simple delight in the whimsy.

From there, we wandered to another room to discover the quieter weaving of gorgeous story blankets of mixed media by a Native American artist who invited me to read every letter from her collaborators giving up their blankets for the 20’ stack of a far greater story. I read three. Maybe four. Maybe half of the fourth. A stitched wolf made of blankets more than 14 feet long hung next to another wolf embroidered with stars, planets, and satellites, tapping our familial celestial connections again. These gifts of art soothed, but we didn’t tarry.  

Because a gallery holds so many invitations to explore, all too quickly, we somehow found ourselves wedged in the most elegant, gilded ballroom in our capitol city in a show of a good comic with a few too many off-color jokes for my spirit. It was all out of order. I felt queasy and uncomfortable sitting there. I love stand-up comedy, but his banter made me sad. I bravely smiled, but Poet, knowing, asked if I wanted to leave. “Yes, but…” I feared greater discomfort interrupting by removing ourselves. I was confronted with how far I could stretch in the name of “one person’s art” vs. our fun, my tender heart, and time. 

Downstairs, a DJ spun music for a happier crowd. A man in a crazy Beanie Baby-covered coat and bedazzled pants entertained a circle near the sea of rave glow-in-the-dark necklaces. We dipped a toe in and then hokey pokey-ed out to a live band for karaoke. Alice’s rabbit hole became curious and curiouser. Beneath a car driving straight up the courtyard wall, we found a trio of brave women in sequins onstage. They’d requested “Stop in the Name of Love” for their karaoke from the live band, but they seemed to forget they were supposed to sing the lyrics playing on the screen before them. But oh, they danced. With mouths shy and shut, save happily singing only the words “Stop in the Name of Love,” they danced. So many metaphors for Jane. I was so glad I felt safer in the audience with my friend, Poet. A different pot of gold.

But today is different. Today, delicate pink clouds laced the pre-dawn skies. I’ve been awake since 4:30 AM, and instead of rising to meditate or trying to go back to sleep, I tapped the webs. What was the news? A spider cast a long, raggedy, sticky thread some twenty feet from Ash tree to Ash tree in my backyard. Astonished by her innovation, I wondered if such a thin thread was practical. Wouldn’t a normal, tidy spiral among the thorny rose bushes be more efficient? How about a low net from the rosemary bramble to the daisies? But no, she caught the wind and made a clothesline installation for this human to wonder how easy it was to be distracted and get caught herself. 

As our friends recover on the East Coast from hurricanes, flood zones, tornados, and the spin of the world’s events, many of us are trying to return to our helping lives. Clear-eyed and with God Goggles at hand, again, I lean into our most tremendous potential and how we can connect our inner knowing more profoundly to that which is most important in every moment.

This has been a big week. Are you ready for intentional living and manifesting a better world in a safe space? 

I encourage you to get outside and tap into your higher self and deepest connection. Watch the sunset. See the changing leaves. Step under the stars. Do yoga with the rising sun. Give thanks and prepare for this week with a high heart. And if you can, you are invited to dance with me this week. We have our Expanded Quanta Circle in just a few days, and we are primed by all the texture, color, scents, dancing skies, and electric changes in the air. Join us THIS Wednesday – Friday evenings at 5:30 PM PDT. 

Can’t get outside or walk in the air right now? Then, put your head out a window (even in your mind’s eye), and when ready, breathe deep the gathering moon, and know I dearly hope to see you soon.

Until the next time…