The Whimsical Musings of the Great Hoo Hoo

My sister & I are more like best friends than siblings. We can talk about everything & anything and usually do and it doesn’t matter if life becomes busy for either of us & we haven’t touched base in awhile… with grace & ease we usually pick up exactly where we left off.

I’ve often imagined that we’ve shared many lifetimes together and at each new beginning, as we get ready yet again to enter the gift of life here on earth, we hold hands & jump into the wonderment of it all – no matter the role we’ve chosen for ourselves this time around.

When time allows, and life has slowed down for us awhile, my sister & I will get together to deeply discuss the latest spiritual book, movie, quote, teacher and try to decide in which direction we should morph this time around in order to get moving in the direction we’d like to get moving in. Or if it’s even possible! I don’t claim to have all the answers. In fact, I fall short of my own expectations often but sissy often looks to me as if I’m an all knowing Sage who will simplify the latest pieces of information in a way that she ‘feels’ as if it can be done, without a doubt.

It was during one of these philosophical conversations where my sister dubbed me “The Great Hoo Hoo.” I snorted & busted out laughing! Really? Ah but then laughter is a wonderful healer. “Why not,” I decided and so . . .

. . . here begins a record of my whimsical musings that I’ve gathered throughout my life of 49 (soon to be 50 on May 29th) years. Thank you sissy for sharing this journey with me. ♥

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My grandson Michael ( 10 ) lives in Virginia Beach so I seldom get to see him but every summer he spends about a month up here in Ohio. When my granddaughter Denelle was born (Michael’s cousin), there was an instant bond between them… I swear, the best of friends & the worst of enemies – you should hear them bicker!!!

Here are some pictures of when Michael got here in Ohio in June and he & Nelle saw each other for the first time since Christmas. They missed each other soooo bad. This actually brought tears to my eyes.

I was responding to a post this morning on Facebook about expanding and advancing oneself spiritually when it became apparent to me that maybe some have the wrong concept on what the outcome is.

I got the impression that some people believe that if they cross all their T’s and they dot all their I’s and they genuflect in the morning upon rising or read their Torah faithfully every evening that they will advance to a point in their lives where they will never have troubles, obstacles, challenges or pain.

I totally understand where that idea comes from cause it wasn’t too long ago I thought and believed that way myself.  However, experience has taught me wisdom. It slowly began to dawn on me that as I learn & grow, walk my talk and be a living example of my truth that it wasn’t the outside experiences that began to change.  It’s what was transforming within me that was different.

The world would always have its obstacles & challenges & pains & traumas & dramas but what would be different is our perception of what was happening. The reaction we had to what was going on around us.  I find that I now laugh at so much of the drama I see where as I use to cry me a river that seemingly never ended.  I saw for myself that if I didn’t add my negative energy to what was happening, it didn’t have nearly the impact it use to.  I can see the illusion for what it is AND I know that it’s not always going to be this way. Situations change. Life is always changing.  Nothing stays the same.

The best example I have of this little post of mine is to remind you of one of the greatest Masters ever… Jesus Christ.  If ever a human/spiritual being had all the answers, it was this man.  Inspired?  No doubt. Wise?  Beyond words. More spiritual than I could ever hope to be.  And yet he was horrifically crucified.   He did not escape the pain of this world and the human part of His Trinity asked…Father, why hast thou forsaken me?  Yet the spiritual part said… Father, forgive them… they know not what they do.

I’m a doer.  I give & give & give until I feel completely drained.  I seldom put myself first… others have needs greater than mine.  But I was surfing the net this morning for some words of inspiration to begin my day with. Something I could carry with me all day long for upliftment when I came across an article that asked me… if a loved one – friend or family – was in need of help, what would your response be?

I thought about that for a few moments and these words came immediately to mind… compassionate, giving, caring, sympathetic, and helpful, be a good listener, run errands, pamper, make laugh, give joy.  All good qualities, right?  Then the article went on to say… then when you’re down & out & in need of help, why is it you don’t treat yourself with the same loving care & concern?

And I went outside this afternoon & I laid in my lawn chair and as I gazed up into the beautiful blue sky with scuttle clouds here and there – I meditated on that very question.  Why?  Why was it so difficult for me to be ok with pampering myself?  Why am I so quick & easy to take care of others but not myself?  Am I not deserving of the loving kindness I show others?  Of course I am and I deserve the very best that life has to offer. Everyone does!

And so I came back upstairs to load my Ipod up with songs that make me happy, grabbed a bottle of strawberry lemonade powerade, grabbed my book “Eat, Pray, Love” by Elizabeth Gilbert & I went back outside to sit in the shade and feel the wonderful summer breeze dance around me.  I was pampering myself & you know what?  It felt pretty good!

“You, yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.”   –Buddha

Life is so generous a giver. But we, judging its gifts by their covering,
cast them away as ugly or heavy or hard. Remove the covering, and you
will find beneath it a living splendor, woven of love by wisdom, with power.
Welcome it, grasp it, and you touch the angel’s hand that brings it to you.
Everything we call a trial, a sorrow or a duty, believe me, that angel’s hand is there.
The gift is there and the wonder of an overshadowing presence. Your joys, too,
be not content with them as joys. They, too, conceal diviner gifts.

Life is so full of meaning and purpose, so full of beauty beneath its covering,
that you will find earth but cloaks your heaven. Courage then to claim it; that is all!
But courage you have, and the knowledge that we are pilgrims together,
wending through unknown country home.

And so, at this time, I greet you, not quite as the world sends greetings,
but with profound esteem and with the prayer that for you, now and
forever, the day breaks and shadows flee away.

~ Fra Giovanni ~  Written Christmas Eve 1513

We are all ONE. Doing for others helps to lift my spirits and allows me to remember that what I do for another in the end helps me too.

Merry Christmas from my heart to yours!

Love,
Theresa

34″Then the King will say to those on His right, ‘Come, you who are blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.

35′For I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you invited Me in;

36naked, and you clothed Me; I was sick, and you visited Me; I was in prison, and you came to Me.’

37″Then the righteous will answer Him, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry, and feed You, or thirsty, and give You something to drink?

38′And when did we see You a stranger, and invite You in, or naked, and clothe You?

39′When did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?’

40″The King will answer and say to them, ‘Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.’

We’ve been talking about it for weeks, trying to prepare my 2 year old granddaughter Denelle for her yearly visit with Santa Clause at the mall.  The first year she was only 9 months old and wasn’t really fully aware of what was going on around her. The second year went a little better… she saw Santa sitting there in his red overstuffed chair but she refused to sit on his lap.  This year her Mom Jenny and I decided to talk this up to generate some enthusiasm for the upcoming event.  And it worked!  Or so we thought.

We got to the mall around 2 in the afternoon and made our way over to where it was all taking place.  The line was long… so very long… but what did I expect for the Saturday before Christmas!  But hey, tis the season and so we have to wait awhile till we moved to the head of the line.  My son Ray and other daughter Amber were waiting there with us so we began to chit chat as we slowly made our way towards Santa.  Jenny then thought that since our wait was so long, she would have time to run over to the Build A Bear center to purchase part of Nelle’s Christmas present so we encouraged her to go, get it done and she assured us she’d be back in time to see her daughter get her picture taken with Santa.

It didn’t seem like much time had passed before I realized we were almost at the front and Jenny had yet to return from shopping.  I was getting a little nervous and unbeknownst to me so was Nelle when she realized Santa was within yelling distance.  Suddenly she asked me if she could go on the choo choo train ride and I said of course we could, as soon as we were done visiting Santa but then her smile quickly faded and she grabbed my left hand with both of her little ones and squeezed it tightly and through clenched teeth said…  “I DON’T WANT TO SEE SANTA, I WANT TO GO ON THE RIDE!”

I snapped my head around to bark out orders to Amber…”Quick, text your sister & tell her we have an emergency… there’s a meltdown in progress at the North Pole!” and I watched as her fingers flew over her phone’s keyboard.  Within moments Jenny was walking briskly back to where we were and began to comfort Nelle.  Again we tried to hype it up, telling her how Santa was going to bring her presents while she slept on Christmas Eve but first she needed to tell Santa what it was she wanted for Christmas and so Nelle began to recite a small list of what she wanted as I counted on my fingers to distract her.  PHEW… meltdown aborted!  Or so we thought.

It was now our turn to enter the magical wonder land & have our visit with Santa Clause.  We all whipped out our cameras cause we were allowed to take additional photos of our own as long as we purchased something from them.  I dropped my coat on the floor and turned to focus the camera in the general direction of where they should be when I noticed Nelle had a white knuckle hold of Jenny’s shoulders and her legs tightly wrapped around Jen’s waist and her eyes were wide with fear.  We desperately tried to convince her that it was ok - we wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her, Santa’s a good guy! but she’d have nothing to do with it.  Her uncle tried; her aunt tried; her 9 year old cousin Michael tried… heck, even I tried but to no avail. 

You could hear a collective weary sigh from all of us as we picked our coats up off the floor, stuffed our cameras away in our pockets and turned towards the exit in total defeat. Then one of the elves came up with the brilliant idea that maybe Nelle would be less afraid if we took a group picture of all us with Santa.  Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea and so we posed.  For 9 pictures!  Someone was either blinking or looking the other way or in several of them Nelle was scowling & giving the camera man “the stink eye.”  We were just about to give up once again when Jen had a heart to heart talk with Nelle saying… “Look, unless you say ‘cheese’ we’re going to have to sit here next to Santa for a long, long time so just smile & let’s get this over with!”  and Nelle said “Ok” and so we all sat up straight, looked straight at the camera with our eyes wide open and said “CHEESE” and it worked!  Hallelujah… a Christmas Miracle had taken place before our very eyes.

As we got up to leave, we thanked Santa for his patience and Nelle decided she wanted to give Santa a hug.  So Santa held Nelle and the camera man got ready to take another picture when Nelle realized what was happening and reached for her Mom.

. . . . . . maybe next year!

I felt a gentle hand on my right shoulder & I turned to look into this woman’s eyes – so beautiful with an unusual color to them… like a very deep, dark blueish/gray… and they seem to penetrate my gaze right down to my very soul but I did not feel vulnerable or uncomfortable but rather this warm energy of love & compassion. She told me – without speaking, more with her mind – that I needed to go stand in a line over to the right & wait my turn. I looked in the direction that she pointed at to see a small line with 4 people waiting. I turned to tell her ‘thank you’ but she had disappeared into thin air. Amazing how my needs were met at the time I needed them to be.

I walked over to take my place in line and had only a short wait till it was my turn. I climbed up a set of 3 marble steps and walked through a doorway into a dark room… or at least it seemed dark until my eyes adjusted to the candlelit space. A man motioned to me to sit down in a most overstuffed comfortable chair while he took notes as he asked me questions about why I was there. I explained rather quickly everything about me that had taken place from birth until this moment – and then explained to him about the pain I was in emotionally & physically and that I really wanted to be happy & joy-filled again with life. When we finished with our interview, we stood & he handed me a package and directed me to the ‘healing area’ of the building. He told me to put on the garment that I was now holding while I waited in line for my session to begin.

I left the tiny room and was again back out in the warehouse area and as I glanced around the area trying to figure out where the healing space was located, I intuitively knew where it was and began my journey in that direction. When I got to the area & took my place in line (again, a very short line with hardly any waiting) I began to unwrap the package I was given so that I could dress into the garb needed in order to proceed with my healing. The gown was floor length and made of the softest material my skin had ever felt. In fact, I don’t think there’s a piece of clothing here on earth that can compare to the softness of this gown I was holding in my hand. It was a soft white background with purple & green ivy like flowers weaving their way throughout the fabric. After I put the gown on, I looked down into the wrapper & noticed a head piece that matched it… sort of like a veil that covered my forehead & sat right about my eyebrows & covered my head completely & fell just below my shoulders in the back. I felt like a Goddess of sorts & felt all this wonderful energy flowing around me.

I was escorted to a tiny space inside of a glass room with a table that seated 4 …2 on each side of the table… and I was told to sit there for awhile & meditate upon what I wished to accomplish through my healing session. I don’t know what type of room this was but the air felt like a warm, liquid air and was filled with this special energy of love unlike any I have ever experienced. I closed my eyes & deeply breathed in & focused on a very happy, healthy me. It didn’t seem like much time went by – maybe 20 minutes – before it was my turn for therapy. I was led into a brightly lit room – so bright that I shielded my eyes so I could make my way into the room. It was a room, I could sense that, but this room seemingly had no walls. At least none that I could actually see. There was nothing in this room except for an elderly chinese man and a very cushy table. He motioned for me to lay down on the table so he could begin the healing process.

I climbed up on the table, laid down & closed my eyes. I felt no need to speak – I intuitively knew that he knew everything there was to know. While I laid there with my eyes closed, I felt lifted to another dimension and I could feel the energy in the room shift to a higher vibration… everything was a pastel blue in and around me, even with my eyes closed I could see this color everywhere. It felt so good – I never knew a color could feel good but it did. This chinese man was talking to me with his mind and I responded with my mind. I sensed such love eminating from this healer – no fear what-so-ever inside of me even though everything that was happening was foreign to my human senses. At one point in the process, he energetically touched upon my lack of love life – and the pain it produced was so intense in that moment that I found myself sobbing – so hard that at moments I could barely breathe. The healer worked with me through this release, gently encouraging me not to block the process but to let it out so that it could heal. It seemed like forever until the tears & pain began to slowly ebb away until there was nothing left inside. The huge ache in my heart that I had been carrying around with me all my life was now gone. I felt vibrationally lighter than air.

He then continued to set about healing some of the minor physical ailments I had.. .sort of like fine tuning or tweaking some loose ends. I don’t know how much time had actually passed – for some reason while in this room, all sense of time diminished… all of what took place was in the ‘now moment’. There was no sense of past or future… every moment was now. Soon he grabbed my hand to help me sit up and gave me some last minute advice and I shook my head ‘yes’ to what he had said & then it was all gone. Him, the room, the building, the people… vanished. I was standing outside next to my car dressed in my regular street clothes.

Then I woke up.

THE STATION
By Robert J. Hastings

TUCKED AWAY in our subconscious minds is an idyllic vision in which we see ourselves on a long journey that spans an entire continent. We’re traveling by train and, from the windows, we drink in the passing scenes of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at crossings, of cattle grazing in distant pastures, of smoke pouring from power plants, of row upon row upon row of cotton and corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of city skylines and village halls.

But uppermost in our conscious minds is our final destination–for at a certain hour and on a given day, our train will finally pull into the Station with bells ringing, flags waving, and bands playing. And once that day comes, so many wonderful dreams will come true. So restlessly, we pace the aisles and count the miles, peering ahead, waiting, waiting, waiting for the Station.

“Yes, when we reach the Station, that will be it!” we promise ourselves. “When we’re eighteen. . . win that promotion. . . put the last kid through college. . . buy that 450SL Mercedes-Benz. . . have a nest egg for retirement!” From that day on we will all live happily ever after.

Sooner or later, however, we must realize there is no Station in this life, no one earthly place to arrive at once and for all. The journey is the joy. The Station is an illusion–it constantly outdistances us. Yesterday’s a memory, tomorrow’s a dream. Yesterday belongs to a history, tomorrow belongs to God. Yesterday’s a fading sunset, tomorrow’s a faint sunrise. Only today is there light enough to love and live.

So, gently close the door on yesterday and throw the key away. It isn’t the burdens of today that drive men mad, but rather the regret over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who would rob us of today.

“Relish the moment” is a good motto, especially when coupled with Psalm 118:24, “This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.”

So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, swim more rivers, climb more mountains, kiss more babies, count more stars. Laugh more and cry less. Go barefoot oftener. Eat more ice cream. Ride more merry-go-rounds. Watch more sunsets. Life must be lived as we go along. The Station will come soon enough.

I dreaded going.

So much, that my body felt laden with heavy, emotional weights.

Then my mind began whirling with the 101 excuses on why I shouldn’t go.  She was a friendly acquaintance, not family or a close friend; it would be an invasion of a very private moment that should be shared with her loved ones.  And finally, would anybody really notice that I didn’t attend?  But then my better half – the part that thinks with her heart and not her head – said I’m going.  I’m going to be there for those who are hurting deeply.  Who need a loving heart to embrace them.  And so I went.

The memorial service for Deb was being held in a room at the local middle school in order to hold the masses that would come to honor her…  so many lives she had touched with her loving ways.  Including mine.  When we would meet by chance, we’d stop whatever we were in the middle of & open our hearts to share of the strong bond we had in common – the love of our children.  One of her sons - her youngest – is actually how the two of us had met to begin with.  Josh was 16 when he first came to work at the grocery store where I was.  It wasn’t long before he weaved his way in, around and through my heart as if he were one of my own. I loved him dearly and he kept in touch now & then after he went away to college… to work… to life.  And each time he would come home for a visit with his parents, who lived 6 houses up the road from me, he would greet me with the biggest bear hug and the words…”Hi beautiful!”  Imagine that… he thinks I’m beautiful.

And in between his visits home, his Mom and I would chat non-stop about the latest adventure he was on… his trip to Africa during college break to help teach English to the children; his trip to New Orleans to help those whose lives were torn apart after Hurricane Katrina wreaked havoc on them and how he adopted one of the lost puppies from that storm and named him “Hurricane”;  how he was moving from the east coast to the west coast – farther away from where we all lived, in this tiny little community – village actually – where most all knew each other.

I remember this one day Deb came into the grocery store to do some shopping and when I spotted her, I walked away from my register to talk with her awhile.  She shared the news that she had been diagnosed with breast cancer.  She said it so matter-of-factly, I saw no tears… heard no tremble in her voice…. as if she had already come to terms with “what is” and now realized the battle set before her.  I felt strength & confidence radiating from her spirit.  She even made me laugh about something - can’t remember what it was.  Such poise… such grace.  I admired her determination and focus.  I hugged her hard hoping to transfer some of the love I was feeling for her – to her.  She was going to need all the support she could get.

Then came the announcement that she had beat that devil and she was cancer free!  I could have danced a happy jig when she told me, such joy I felt at the news of her recovery.  For the next year we continued on much the same as we use to… questions about how she felt, how were the kids, etc…  it was so nice to see her beaming smile every time she walked into the store and how she lit up the space surrounding her.  But it wasn’t long before I heard through the people in our community that her cancer had returned.  I had heard that she had said she wanted 24 hours to cry and then she would be ready to fight this dis-ease again.  That’s all? 24 hours to grieve… to rant… to rave?  How self-less this woman was!  I can’t say that I would have limited myself to a mere 24 hours!

Her husband Rick owns the local barber shop and had cut my sons hair through most of his childhood.  Whenever we’d come into the shop we were always greeted in a friendly Mayberry kind of way and while he cut my son’s hair in the latest fashion of the time, we’d catch up on the local happenings.  Of course there came a time when my son graduated and moved out on his own and it no longer was convenient for Rick to cut his hair.  Sadly, it was the end of our visits too. Though on occasion if I was in the area shopping, I’d stick my head in the door and ask about his well being or question him about something I heard going on in the village and ask what he knew about it.  And when Deb got sick the second time, I would stop in to ask how she was and during one of those times, he informed me that she wasn’t doing too well.. the cancer had spread to her bones.  I remember feeling as if the blood in my face had drained away.  I knew from when I worked in the hospital back in the 80′s, that this was not a good sign and that her days were numbered.  I felt heartsick over this, mostly cause I knew there was nothing I could do to ‘fix it.’  We Mommas, if were good at anything it’s fixing what’s been broken whether with a hug or a smile or in saying with faith and conviction..”this too shall come to pass.”  But there was no way to mend this… to make this impending tragedy go away.

A couple months ago I had heard through a friend that Josh had moved from California back home with his parents.  Six houses up the road and I could not make myself go visit.  Why?  What was I afraid of?  I thought of buying those beautiful burnt orange colored mums I had seen displayed in the store to give to Deb as a gift but when I drove by her house, I saw that her side walk was lined with flowers of all kinds to the point of overflowing.  I felt the last thing she needed was another plant…. silly me… what was I thinking!  And every time I would drive past their house, I would berate myself for not taking the time to walk over there & say “hi”.  I wanted to, I felt the need to – but I never followed through.

Word came on the evening of November 9th that Deb has passed away peacefully at home with her loved ones around her and the funeral would be held on Saturday at 1 p.m. at the middle school.  I got off work at 12 noon so I could go home & change before attending the service.  And what a gloriously beautiful experience it was.  I learned through her husband’s talk during the ceremony that Deb had orchestrated the entire event from the music that would be played right down to the food that would be served after the funeral.  This caused the room to explode with laughter cause those that knew Deb knew she was an organizer.  I felt such love in that room, the energy of such I have never experienced before.  She had touched  our lives in some way that was special to each of us and because of that, she would live on through us.  I am so happy that I was not able to talk myself out of going to this service for I would have truly missed the “love”.

When the preacher closed by saying a special prayer, two lines had formed… one to cross the hall to where the food was waiting and one to greet Deb’s sons – Josh and Jason – and her husband Rick.  I got in the latter line because I hadn’t made it in time before the service to share with them my heartfelt condolences.  I talked with Jason first, explained that I had never met him in person but knew so much about him through his Mom & I talking.  I also told him that his Mom & I met back when Josh worked at the grocery store.  Jason said he never knew Josh worked at the grocery store and we both laughed.  Then I moved on to Rick and hugged him tight. When I went to take a step back I noticed he held on a little longer and I intuitively knew that he was hanging on to all those who shared a piece of his wife and I hugged him a little harder.  Or maybe it was me who hesitated to let go, afraid to break that thread that bound us all together.   As I stepped forward, I looked over and up into Josh’s eyes – he’s so much taller than I – and he said to me….. “Hi beautiful!” as I walked into his arms.  He then said… “I wondered if I’d see you here today” and at that moment I had the answer to my earlier question …”would anybody really notice that I didn’t attend” and I’m glad I went and that I got to share in that energy of love.  Thank you Deb for the blessing of being a part of your life.

From Deb’s obituary –

Deborah A. Seyer, 62, of Middlefield, entered eternal rest on Monday evening, November 9th, 2009 at home
surrounded by family and friends after being a brave and valiant warrior in her battle with breast cancer.
‘Carpe Diem’