While I will freely admit that I loved the show to distraction--yes, the cardigan, the song, the trips to the Land of Make Believe, all of it--one of my favorite things about Mr. Rogers was that he made it clear that we are all neighbors; that each of us has intrinsic worth; and that one of our most important duties is to hold each other up.

One interpretation of the central concept of his teachings sounds like this: In some ways, because of our delightfully contradictory experience of humanity, we are simultaneously enacting different portions of one massive, interconnected divine experience. Despite all of the divisions we create that are focused on race, religion, political affiliation, levels of ability and the like, we generally go into a room that contains dozens of others, and despite the fact that we are standing shoulder to shoulder, we allow others the illusion that their fragile envelope of privacy remains unviolated. This can be an enactment of graciousness, in which we occupy the same space and allow others to have their heartbreak and elation; their pain and the worst news of all time--and we fully allow the pretense that, inches away from one another, we are neither seen nor heard. Sometimes this grace is protective, so that we are not required to intervene in other people's tiny disasters.

At other times, when disaster strikes, we rip away the veil of pretense and fully swoop in to save each other from imminent disaster. We also sometimes gift in the opposite direction. When disaster strikes, we suddenly make one another visible again, just long enough to set each other right, and then we go back to pretending that our space is not the same space; that time and distance offer separation and relief from the intimate experience.

What a gift we give one another; or make that a series of gifts. We offer the gifts of privacy and anonymity. We offer the gifts of visibility and being known.  We offer the gifts of assistance. We offer the gift of hope: that we need not remain how or where we are when we began.

I don't talk about this much, but I was raised in a very small town in the South. Most of my neighbors were related to me in one way or another, usually in a circuitous manner that required quite a bit of patience to untangle. (I was often just grateful if we could get past the halfway mark in the story without the speaker having a sudden realization about his or her parents being insufficiently distant on their family trees, or tree, singular.) Because of this intertwined community, I learned the value of neighborly behavior. Sure, you might have to lower your voice and make sure your windows were closed if you wanted to keep your night special, but you could also borrow a cup of sugar from anyone in a five-mile radius, or stop on any porch to get patched up with Band-Aids and a little isopropryl alcohol if you fell off your bike. (Frankly, I have always had a special relationship with gravity. I developed many, many baffling and creative injuries. Everyone was ready for me.) Being surrounded by family was simultaneously suffocating and intensely gratifying. Our togetherness wasn't quite a shield from the world, but in retrospect, it was a rich shelter that potentiated many types of introspection.

In the spirit of neighborly action, I encourage you to visit a new page on this website, in which we explore ways to enact our neighborly assistance. Here is the page, titled Help Your Neighbor. There are several opportunities to become more involved in your world communities. For the first time, I noted that a number of the agencies offer a way to volunteer from afar. That option may be best suited to those of us who struggle to feel comfortable out and about in the world.

Finally, I want to share with you the footage of Mr. Rogers receiving an Emmy award in 1997. I did not know that he had done so; as a matter of fact, I have only just learned several remarkable things about this humble, loving man. I will freely admit that I cried all the way through his speech. Prepare yourself.

You are part of the world community. You are special, unique and irreplaceable. Your contributions have value beyond measure. As you are able, rise (physically, metaphorically or both) and hie thee to a place to find your tribe.

Remember, there are many, many ways to Help Your Neighbor. We are one spirit, formed of the same ocean of possibilities; so sometimes your neighbor is across the ocean, sometimes your neighbor is on the next block...or sometimes your neighbor is you.

Sending love, and wishing you well.

These are facts:

I grew up in a haunted house.

All of the houses I've lived in have been haunted.

As a matter of fact, almost all of the living situations I have ever had--you guessed it--haunted. That includes the lovely bed and breakfast that my beloved and I visited a few years ago. In a matter of minutes, I knew we were sharing our space with someone discorporate. That did have something to do with the fact she went into the closet in a huff, and slammed the door on her way in. Ha! I could "see" where she had gone. I was relieved to note that the spirit locked herself in the closet because she was irritated that she had company again--rather than because something specific about us was troublesome to her. (The latter situation tends to work itself out in a more complicated kind of way.)

I will note here that those places weren't usually scary. Haunting can be a factual reporting about the frequency of a place. In the same way that sometimes you know who is calling before you look at Caller ID, you might also be aware that someone who is in spirit happens to be sitting on the other end of the couch. It's just a thing that happens. You don't have to be afraid as a matter of course. Chances are, that person is sneering at Chopped reruns just as disdainfully as you are. People on every side of the grave feel free to laugh at anyone who doesn't know what to do with marshmallow root.

This time of year, we talk about how the veil is thinnest between this world and the next. While I believe that to be true, I also believe that there is not much veil separating realities from one another to begin with. It's a good idea if we're aware of that. Sometimes the only difference is perception. Mystics study the differences, and learn to see not only what is there, but also what is missing.*  

My point is that people, places and things may be occupied by other entities or energies--and that is separate from those same people, etc. being haunted. Being haunted suggests that one of the important characteristics is said occupation. Don't we say of those who do the haunting that they are, in essence, stuck; that they are experiencing only a fraction of what is true about their lives? Maybe they got to stay in their houses, but they can't touch their things; or they can't find their beloveds and they don't know why, right? We are doing the same thing if we allow ourselves to be defined by the things we lost, or the people who left us, or the things we will never have. That means that we, the living, can be haunted in a way that is terrible and frozen. But it doesn't have to be the case.

If we allow ourselves the full experience of our grief...

If we can avoid the temptation of the "if only" revisionist history sandtrap...

If we can recognize and move beyond the self-blaming "I should have/could have/would have...

If we can forgive the people, and the feelings, and the events, then we can let go of what did not happen...

...then we can move beyond our own stuck place. But it doesn't happen organically. In the same way that the spirits we call ghosts need help to move on, so do we. It's a process. And it's okay to have the process.

No matter what has come before, we do deserve a new chance. And if we can't believe that we deserve a chance, then maybe we can offer up the new life opportunity in gratitude; accept it as a gift. And since we're still here, you know, maybe we're meant to do something with it.

Because the opposite of haunted is fully present, awake and aware. You know...alive.

We deserve that, no matter what manner of flesh we are living in.



(*Thanks to Tony Foster, via Tanya Huff, for the origin of that phrase: "Wizards see what's there." If you haven't read the Smoke series, go do that. It's delicious.)


Let's spend some time together if you are feeling stuck.  I am always glad to help. 

Recently, I ran into a client rather unexpectedly, in a very public place. I think this person was a little shaken, and more than a little unsure about how the interaction might proceed. I do enjoy seeing the people I work with, but I want you to look forward to the contact as much as I do. In that light, I have a few thoughts to share about our relationship, and what you may expect from me.

Your identity, and the contents of each session that we have, whether those are in person, via telephone, by email, or through some other form of communicating, are always completely confidential. Unless you are in immediate danger, I will not tell anyone the contents of our session(s) under any circumstances.

Excluding emergency situations, I do not divulge information about you to other people.* That includes your partner or spouse. If someone knows about your session, it will be because you told them. Should I gain a mentor, which I may do one day, if I had a question about our session, I would falsify everything about you, so that your identity would never be revealed by me, and could not be guessed by any other.

Frankly, I have had clients who have asked me to share certain information about their sessions with third-party individuals. I have a strong preference that the client do that for herself or himself. This is your session. I encourage you to do whatever strikes you as appropriate with the information gleaned therein.

To that end, I will not initiate a greeting or conversation in public--although I will gladly respond if you say hello. This is just another part of keeping your identity secure. That way, my greeting won't cause any complications. It is better if you don't have to explain anything that you prefer to avoid explaining.

If you share a telephone number or email address with another person, or if you are contacting me from a phone number or email address that you primarily use for your work, then I ask that you tell me that as close to the beginning of our relationship as you are able, so that I can take additional measures to guard your privacy.  Among other measures, I could avoid naming the purpose of my call or message, in the interest of a larger caution. 

I hope I am making it clear that the most important part of the work that I do is holding your vulnerability with gentle hands. I take that very seriously, because I appreciate your trust. Trust is the foundation of the relationship that we have. It defines the possibilities in what we are capable of building. It underscores credibility.  Trust makes it possible to go deeper, seek more, and believe what we build and what we find.

I look forward to sharing more of it with you.

I will do my best to avoid sounding as though I'm writing these musings from the Holodeck...but it's fair to say that this is a fascinating idea. The workings of space and time are whimsical at most. Isn't it something that we humans invented a system that measures and divides our experience?

The concept of a Leap Year is that, periodically, in order to keep our accounting even, we have an extra 24 hours--a whole added day in the yearly cycle. In another way of considering this, however: since time is an illlusion, then it is not possible to make time, to save time, to make up time, to lose time, or even to waste it. Therefore, this thing that we talk about on this day, this number, 29 February, which only comes around so often, seems so odd. Since time is a construct, then we could allow ourselves to have as many February 29ths, or June 43rds, or October 40ths, as seem appropriate.

Perhaps we order our days in the way that we do so that each experience seems special. Summer, with its heavy breezes and luscious fruits, is so delightful, in part, because it is limited. If we were allowed to decide when or how days could be arranged, that might lead to a dreadful lack of diversity. (At this juncture, it seems as though summer may never arrive; although the groundhog has come and gone and issued forth a verdict suggesting that we will see summer sooner rather than later.)

I say all this because these are tumultuous times, and while we discuss elections and Leap Year and taxes with steadily increasing levels of anxiety, I am reminded of something a wise wizard said: "All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us."

So...what do you choose to do with the time that is given to you? What tasks will you undergo? What will you set aside? And can you find a way to make the journey with a glad heart?

The year 2015 is coming to an end, but remember: there is no such thing as this ending. Time is an illusion. This is really just the way that we mark the allotment that we are given.

I am saying this because some of us are feeling that we have not done enough during this year, or for the right reasons, or in the right order, et cetera, ad nauseam.

I think that we need to have a better perspective about what we are doing here. Certainly, we could all spend more time focusing--but we could also do a much better job extending compassion towards ourselves. Our thoughts, our dreams, our feelings: we can only benefit by making more space for them, so as to create a balanced life.

If we open our hands and commit to both sharing and protecting our hearts more, then we can allow those precepts will guide our actions.

Make your notes about the year, and make your wish list. Mostly--ask yourself what your heart is wanting now. What would make that heart feel supported? And finally, what can you add to your life that will allow you to shine your heart forward in a precarious world?

Best of luck to you in your process of discovery, friends. I stand ready to help with tools: readings, Reiki, meditation, mindfulness and more.

More Light to you, now and always.

Hallowe'en, or All Hallows Eve, is said to be the day when the veil is thinnest between the worlds. Our world lies adjacent to the world in which our lost beloveds dwell, this belief states, and at certain times, the membrane between us is so thin that you can see what's rubbing against us as it stands on the other side.

Whether or not we believe in goblins, most of us live with plenty of ghosts: people we have known, paths we did not take, dreams we set aside. There are always more of those than of us--only one of each of us--an excellent argument that we ought to learn to live with compassion.

If we do choose to explore contact with our brethren who have crossed beyond the veil, it's important to use both common sense and spiritual safety tips when we do so:

1. Secure the area. Work only in an area you know, or are very familiar with. Close and lock the doors and windows, and otherwise invest in safety measures. Conjuring outside is fine, but best if attempted in your own back yard, a private space, or a borrowed space available only to your group for the evening.

2. Close your circle completely. Sweep away all dirt and debris before you start your artwork. Use your best chalk (or other medium). Then, be sure that you finish the ritual in both word and deed.

3. Prepare yourself thoroughly. Meditate, take a ritual bath, be ready to do your part.

4. Oh--make sure that any fancy costumes are in keeping with the location of your ritual. If you will be outside, be sure you are careful about anything trailing, elevated or brand new. Glittery goodies are fun toys. I'm just saying that you should proceed with caution.

5. Choose your companions with care. Many times, we create rituals that require various levels of trust. Making certain that you don't have to reserve a corner of your mind to monitor your buddies will save space for the possibility of a beautiful experience.

6. Be aware of your goal (and make sure everyone agrees with it). That will make it easier to coordinate the ritual with any props or other supplies you might need...and could possibly make the feast afterwards a little more comfortable/less snipey.

7. Know that this is not your only chance to confer with the elders, or __________________ (fill in the blank with your purpose). You don't have to go overboard with cost, bling, or anything else.

Final words: Have fun! Be present! Enjoy your magick hour. Be good to yourself and your companions, and the ritual will be good to you. Take good notes, so that tomorrow, you can decide what would make next year even better.