Have I Told You Lately?

When I dare to be powerful, to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid. - Audre Lorde

Since my daughters and I plodded our way to NYC in 1997, we have been witness to several blizzards, summer thunderstorms, 9/11, an earthquake, Hurricane Irene, and now the powerhouse Sandy. Last night, I texted and talked with my daughters, friends, colleagues, and family in NJ and Texas. I heard my cousin and his family in Roslyn Estates had a tree fall onto their home, destroying three rooms, but they are safe. As the winds of Sandy swirled into Brooklyn, I moved away from the window in my living room, and once the cable went out, plugged in my cellphone and put on the Mozart station and suddenly, I heard nothing, but the splendor of music. Amazing. And it was then I realized how it is always a choice what we give attention. And for the time being before my curiosity could not stay away any longer and before I hooked up my TV to get the basic channels to hear the news, I was transported away from it all and I heard only splendid and calming, balancing music.

What I learned last night was how connected we are and when we tend and care for each other and Mother Earth, all will be well. Because all is well. Always. The choices guide us to know this.

I want to say what huge respect I have for the service community who doggedly do their job. They have one-pointed intention. They see nothing but the work and those they are helping. It humbles me and teaches me to do the same in every act of my life. NY Cares is looking for ways for those of us at home and with power to find outlets to help those who have lost so much.

So with this post I want to say THANK YOU to everyone who gives. I have received your good intentions and am so enamored by you. I am taking an extra long tea date with my Muse today and promise to hold true to it. This is my service. Learning from service workers, I meditate, seeking my own clear sighted focus to lay down on paper my heart.

Yesterday as the tension and anticipation of the storm approached, I kept having this strong inclination to call my mother and to tell her her granddaughters and I were okay. Strong sense. My sister from Texas texted me as we were in the last few hours of the tropical storm. She is psychically strong and she said she was sending angels to me and that she saw our mother - sitting at my knees - red haired, young and her face as 'big as day.' I felt the blissful chills of spirit run up my leg in reading this. "Thank you, Mother," I said, wanting to hug her, but knowing we had transcended to much more than that. "You are loved," my sister texted.

Indeed.

We all are.