Wednesday Wish (66); Enter the Magic Zone

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 My Wednesday Wish for You?

Dare to enter the Magic Zone this week, that zone where wonderful things are invited to happen, where your dreams speak louder than your fears and your heart sings clearer than your mind.

Before, 
you had wings.
This week...
remember how to fly.

Love,

me, Brynne

Wednesday Wish (65); Unfold Your Truth

photo by jason a. samfield via flickr

It was just a trip to the grocery store. On a very cold Seattle day. For me, anyway. The shivers ran up my spine as I held tight to my daughter's little hand, our feet split-splattering puddles on our way to the entrance. I lifted her up into the shopping cart, funneled her little feet through the metal, and off we went, inside...

Shopping for food has always been a favorite event of mine. No matter what country I am in, no matter how warm or cold, how hungry or full, I love to immerse myself in a world of edible ideas:

Leather yellow coats of lemons, frilly heads of fraying kale, and a big bag of Lincoln log carrots, will the Pink Ladies delight me as much as they did last time, oh yes…I must have a few of those. And what about the other rabbit treats, my cabbage and zucchini and maybe an onion or two?

Sofia and I wander around the produce section, talking to new friends about the beets and the parsnips and the way the cauliflower looks so small lately. William asks us how the juicer is working and tells us about his trip to Portland, Oregon. Another friendly stranger shares of his birthday today. Sofia and I cheer and give him a hug. We watch waves of smile move through the store-- from us, to us, everywhere around us. We are alive and connected and filled with authenticity.

I move toward the specialties, the ethnic foods, the sea foods, the delicacies called confections. I breathe them all in and know I must try to let my mind hold the reins, not my heart, for this time, my dear and precious heart must hold her tongue. She protests and a small caramel chocolate finds its way into my basket. She protests again, and two mini pie tins in the shape of hearts find their way in there, too. My mind shakes her head. Silly heart.

We stand in line to pay. I look down into my basket at what I have chosen, at the things that will delight our bellies over then next few days. Sofia waves at a little girl in pink boots holding on to her mama’s leg. The cashier thanks the customer in front of me. It’s my turn.

            “Good morning,” I say, as I pile up the conveyor belt. “Are you having a happy day?”

            She looks at me with a half-smile, her eyes wondering if I am for real. My eyes tell her I am.

            “Yes,” she says hesitatingly, “it’s a happy day. So far, I like it.” She warms up as she speaks.

            We talk a bit as we each do our jobs, and somehow it comes out that Sofia and I have recently moved to the area. I tell her that this winter is particularly cold for us, but that writing about the magic in life warms me from the inside out.

            “You write about the magic in life?” she asks me.

            “I do,” I say, with a nod. “The little things that make life magic, the little things that make life worth living. It really helps with the cold, among other things.”

We chuckle at the same time, then give our words a rest.

            “Know somethin',” I say a bit later, as I reach down to take a few things out of my cart, “my heart took over for a few minutes there so I better save these treats for another time.” I hand her the small chocolate caramel and the mini pie tins.

            “Ok,” she says, placing them beside the register, ringing up the rest of my things, not saying another word.

I wait. And watch.

She works.

We sit and soak in one another.

And I realize I feel good.

This cashier makes me feel good.

“What is your name,” I ask.

“Gaby,” she says with a new smile. “What’s yours?”

I tell her and when I do, she hands me my receipt. 

I touch her arm.

“Thank you, Gaby,” I say with a deep smile in my eyes.

“Thank you, Brynne,” she says in return, her eyes suddenly unfolded into their truth.

I leave for the parking lot with a bubbly daughter, a cart full of groceries, and a newly warmed heart. What a nice day, I say to myself. What a nice day.

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When I get home and unpack my groceries, I come to a small brown package at the bottom of my bag. Did I forget something? Maybe a sweet potato or two? I unwrap it and stare-blink at the contents with disbelief. It’s the chocolate caramel and the two tins in the shape of hearts. I quickly scan my receipt. Did she misunderstand me? Did I miscommunicate? 

But they aren’t listed. I scan the receipt again. Then I see it. Not the numbers, but her smile. In her eyes. Gaby’s eyes. The eyes that said I needed to be reminded of the magic in life today. Thank you, Brynne. And here, let me then remind you of the same.

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I want to unfold.

I don’t want to stay folded anywhere

because where I am folded,

there I am a lie.

 --Rilke

So we unfolded. Gaby and I. At the grocery store. 

And lived, both of us, in the magic of our truths.

Wednesday Wish (64); To Dream is You

Well, there’s one thing…they can’t order me to stop dreaming.

--Cinderella

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Way up high, behind the morning mist and the peaks of winter evergreens, sits a little house quietly…waiting. But not to worry, for if you walk along the pine needle path, the soft one beside the riverbed and if you keep the fraying twist of smoke in sight, the one that unfurls like a weightless ball of string, you will find your way. It’s just one of those things that’s meant to be.

But bring a scarf and a pair of mittens or two. And maybe a few of your favorite things. Things? You say. What things? Hmm, let me see. Maybe a small tin of sparkles or your special flavored tea. Or maybe it’s that squishy thing that you could rub all day, or the feather that reminds you of your wings. What is it that warms your belly or your tongue, that gives your heart a giggle or your nose a happy twitch….you know, what gives you those feelings you pretend to ignore because they only happen oh so rarely these days? Go there. Yep, there, those. When you remember where to find them, well then, go there, get them, hold them tight. And when you do, plant them close to your heart.

Then when you walk, please, oh please, remember to mind your feet. For you see, those who have gone before haven’t always thought about those who will follow. So there will be jagged edges and sharp peaks and holes that seem to rage for miles. But if you mind your feet, you will know where to step. And your heart will have its happy so you will sing your way ahead. Safely. Wisely. With consciousness in your toes.

And if you ever find, as your walk along your way, that your path becomes murky or a cloudy shade of grey, then listen. Listen to the depth in the silence, for it will lead you. But if you have forgotten how, then here, sit down upon this solid rock, unpeel a layer of your favorite things and taste a precious nibble. Enjoy a piece of your sacred joy. 

And the silence will speak. Of who you are and what steps you are next meant to take. I promise. 

Not only that... 

...if you are very quiet, you might even hear the winter evergreen whisper their age-old secrets. But you know, the few who hear them almost never choose to leave. They are the few that find their truth right there in the deepest wood, the wood that hides their deepest Self, the key to every mystery.

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Dream, she says. Dream as far and as wide and as deep as you can. This week and the next and the next and the next. For without your dreams, the you in You is nothing but a forgotten cottage tucked between the trees…

What Do You Desire?

What do you desire? 

When will you dare to really honor the You in you?

When will you begin to truly trust your heart?

Then...then...then

 is when the magic

really begins.

love,

me, Brynne

Wednesday Wish (63); Painted Windows

photo by photogail via flickr

He never spoke. He just rocked and mumbled in his seat as story after story pulsed beneath his skin, repeating like a record with an ever-present scratch. And while he seemed alone with his stories, the demons made sure he would never be lonely.

A crow’s call reverberated to his core.

A weeping neighbor tore at his heart.

And painted windows would set him free.

I played Nina Simone and caught a smile. I brought in watercolors and watched him twinkle. Day after day, week after week, month after month after month, I danced a dance I did not know. Not for money. Not for power. But because his happiness mattered to me. I listened. I loved. I cared. With a paintbrush showing me the direction of the wind and Nina Simone cheering me on.

In a prison of his own.

Where, oh where, was that key?

Then one day when the frost hadn’t even thawed on the prison grounds, he picked up the brush and painted his first diamond-shaped window. And when he was done, he smiled. With a finger tapping to the beat of Nina Simone, his eyes turned toward me with a depth that mirrored my own. And from then on, Tummer Reid used his voice.

Where was that key?

In our hearts.

The only place it ever could be.

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As 2013 begins, my wish for you is that you care deeper than last year, that you love deeper than ever before, that you find your brush and paint windows in whatever shape your heart desires and then invite those around you to do the same. And when you forget how to steer your ship, crawl back into the warmth of your heart to find your key. For the mind is the only real prison and the painted windows of the heart will always set you free.