Wishful Thinking?

I’m sitting off the highway on a gravel road beside a sweet piece of land.

The sun bathes the area that a half hour earlier was washed with rain. There is a humongous oak tree in the center of a cleared, grassy, mowed area of native wetland grass. Behind me, a small river, I didn't know existed, snakes through the farmland. Maybe it’s a drainage ditch, doesn't matter, it's beautiful.  I imagine my house sitting behind that Oak. 

I wonder if I sit here long enough I will imbue my energy into that property and the owner will feel compelled to sell it to me.  No for sale sign. Just wishful thinking.

The road is posted, “No trespassing.” I’m only a car’s length away from the highway.  An hour earlier I drove down the road on the other side of the river, also posted as “No trespassing” but I inched my way along so I could see across the river to this side.  I drove until I could see that a house was situated way back, down the long gravel road ran alongside the river. 

Amazing where Oregonians will plant themselves.

The Oak Tree, that's not mine, but I wish it was.

I know I tend to ignore signs and go where I do not belong. I am very respectful of property, though, and try not to disturb anyone. I suppose I am conditioned from early childhood to go where no child is meant to go. My friends and I rode their horses into areas fenced areas that cut off exquisite destinations children ought to discover.

My hometown of The Dalles Oregon is sitting almost entirely on solid basalt so digging post holes is an arduous task. Farmers would plant a fence post maybe 50 feet apart, and string barbed wire between the planted posts. Between those secure posts, small “floating” posts held the wire strands apart, but the posts dangled above the ground. We kids would find a post that was loose enough to lay on the ground, stand on the wire while someone led the horses over it. Then we would put it back up. Hopefully with none the wiser.

I was lucky to be mentored by a farm girl who let me ride her horse, and who taught me a few things about respecting property, but not fences. I guess it’s like coloring outside the lines.

Earlier in the day on route to another property, this one listed for sale, I drove past a sign that said

“SLOW

CHILDREN

 PETS

 OLD MEN”  with no commas, not telling if the driver ought to go slow, or that the children, pets, and old men were slow. 

I sat in a dry car while rain splattered the windshield and pondered the property. Did I want to live there? 

It was sloping, treed, overgrown with blackberry bushes, shaded, and then the morning sun called me to the valley beyond, and I followed it until I ended up here beside a road dreaming of a house behind a giant oak tree.

I wrote a note for the Oak Tree property’s owner and put it in his mailbox. “I adore your property by the road. Want to sell 1-5 acres—buildable of course?” Name, phone, email."

Wishful thinking?

That night I drove with my husband out to show him the property, and there was a rope across the entrance.

Guess that’s my answer.

P.S. To see my 92-year-old friend June’s exquisite paintings check out www.joyceslandingpage.com. And the story of a painting I loved and lost.

From Creating Your Own Reality to Creating Your Own House

Worse. Not this house.

It was in shambles. A wreak. Holes were punched in the drywall, exposing the studs, bare cement floor in the living room.  The kitchen was a disaster. All flooring needed to be replaced.

A dumpster, yep that’s what that house needs.

And a complete renovation.

I would be embarrassed to let anyone see that house right now.

But, if you are thinking about a fixer-upper, the before pictures ought to look bad, real bad. For then the renovations will look good, real good.

Someone had broken the lock to a door leading to a crawl space under the house. That “crawl space” was ceiling high and we could see that all pillars, beams, and flooring looked great. Overhead access to plumbing and wiring would help in any changes. needed or wanted. The house is situated on slanted ground. The portion sitting on level ground was built on a cement pad, the portion over the hill was built over wood floor joists.

 A few months ago my daughter found that house in foreclosure, and it was coming up for auction. She saw it as a flip house. I saw it as a money pit. Any possibility for profit seemed unlikely.

But, as our house...

The house did not sell at auction, so now it is back in the Bank’s hands.

I spent the last two weeks processing the idea of that house. I didn’t like it. It was dark, dreary and depressing. My husband liked it which didn’t help matters.

But, motivated by the Reality show Texas Fixer-Upper with Chip and Joanna Gains I began to see that sows ears can be made into silk purses.  

However, since the house was foreclosed, it gives the owner or heirs, a right of redemption. That means they can buy it back. And that first 6 months was reset at the auction. It goes until March.

It is unlikely that they would pay the fees associated, and satisfy the loan to boot. Since they let it foreclose and go through an auction,  it would appear they want out. Also, we believe the owner died, and if he has any heirs I can't find them.  However, to begin renovations, one wants a clear title.

There was a key under the house that opened the front door. We went in happy to see what it was all about, measured rooms, and drew a floor plan. We didn’t touch anything and locked it again. Was that illegal?

Whoops.  I didn’t think about that.

But hey, we have a Real Estate agent daughter, although she was not present at the break-in , so she’s home free.

To be continued…

P.S. Is this déjà vu for some readers?

About 16 years ago I was writing about building a log house.  

I am so jealous of homes in Waco Texas where you can buy a house situated on green lawns the size of a football field, complete with gorgeous mature trees for $50,000, put $150,00 into renovations and have a dream home that in Oregon would cost $500,000.

So, what do you want to talk about?

Making Palatable the Unpalatable

I think about my siblings losing their mother at a young age, and how hard that was for them.  I think of Abraham’s teachings that say we create our own reality.

How do we reconcile the two?

You might completely discount the idea of creating our own reality. That’s one choice.

We could say, “Shit happens. Our choice is how we respond to it." That’s another option.

It could be that on the river of life we occasionally run into boulders. Hitting that boulder tells us we need to change direction, or it tells us we have something to learn from the experience. “Don’t let it break you,” it says. “ Love yourself to life.”

It could be that we chose that experience before we were born.

But then, we didn’t know how much it would hurt. We didn’t know how vulnerable we would be. We didn’t know the ramifications of a mother’s death and how the family would change as a result of it. We didn’t have a crystal ball, we only knew some things, but then being born we forgot even the little we did know.  And so we suffer. And now we want to kick anyone in the teeth who says, “You know, you create your own reality.”

This may be far-out for some readers.

 It is a take on how some people think.

It is one of our many options.

For much of our life creating one’s own reality is a foreign concept. And if we do create our own reality, most of the time, it is unconscious creating, for we are often dashed against the rocks.

However, the belief that we create our own reality carries with it the understanding that we are not victims. If we do create our own reality, then, it follows that we can change it.

That rather makes the concept of creating one’s own reality more palatable, don’t you think?

”Everything is Energy

And that’s all there is to it.

Match the frequency of the reality you want,

and you cannot help but get that reality.

It can be no other way.

This is not philosophy.”

This is physics. “

--Albert Einstein 

You've Jumped in Whether You Realize it or Not

The river of life I mean.

 The question is, are we paddling upstream, or going downstream?

It’s hard to tell sometimes, isn’t it?

Oh, I suppose there are those who want the river to be more like a pond, and float their boat, and drift.  That sounds appealing at times. 

So we’re sitting there idling when suddenly the river overflows its banks. It fills our pond and washes us over the edge.

Well, shucks, I wasn’t prepared for that.

Has that ever happened to you?

My most favorite analogy in the whole world is Richard’s Bach’s little river creature from his book #Illusions. The little fellow is clinging fast to the rocks when one day he looks up and has a revelation. “The river knows where it is going,” he says. “If I turn loose of the rocks the river will carry me along.”

But the others, also clinging to the rocks, say to him, ”Don’t be a fool. That river you so cherish will dash you against the rocks, and you’ll be killed.”

Still, the little creature decides to trust the current.

He turns loose, and is at first dashed and slammed against the rocks, but then the current carries him wild and free.

And the ones downstream, seeing him, say,  ”See he flies. It’s a miracle.”

Good place to stop.

If, however, you care to see what our little river is doing read on:

As many of you may know both my daughter and I took Real Estate Licensing classes, passed our exams, were background checked, all our little digits were fingerprinted, fourteen images, we paid MLS dues, Oregon dues, took an “Ethics” class.” then decided we didn’t want to be Real Estate Agents. All beginning agents must sign with a company and as we didn’t find one that suited us, we opted out.

Mainly me.

I likened it to the fellow who wanted a Rolls Royce, got one, drove it around the block and said, “I don’t want a Rolls Royce,” and took it back.

My license is effective until February. Nina’s expired on her last birthday. She took the necessary 30 hours of extra training to reinstate it, then found an agency she liked.

Ta Da!

Their in-house “training” is not the workbook variety but good helpful, pertinent information, one on one.

She is  jazzed. I’m jazzed for her. I believe she threw herself into the right river.

Nina Birchwood, #Hybrid Real Estate Agency, licensed Real Estate Agent, able to sell in the State of Oregon

P.S. My new dot com address for "The Best Damn Writer's blog on the Block" is http://www.bestdamnwritersblog.com

From the ole Crap Buster.

A friends’ husband categorized me as that, and it warmed me for two years.

I’m semi Woo Woo.

I find I am often in the middle. I go to far-out groups, and say, “Okay guys, dampen it a little.”

If I’m in the mainstream group, I say, “I’m out of here.”

Motivated by Caz Makepeace's #Y Travel blog, I am adding my two dimes and a nickel's worth.

I am astounded at how many travel bloggers are out there, and how many travel full time. #Caz Makepeace is one. She travels with her husband, two young daughters, and has a highly successful blog and website.

 I am in awe.

Uh oh, serious mouse encroachment--erased material. I had to begin again.

Double mouse encroachment

Back to the blog: I have traveled a bit and loved it. I stood beside the Parthenon in Athens Greece as a golden sunrise enlivened it.

I climbed the stepped pyramid at Chichen Itza in the Yucatan and stood at what was once called the “Holy of Holies,” that room at the tip top. 

From my lofty perspective, I looked out over what was once a city, the temple of the warriors, the ball court and the Yucatan Peninsula where the horizon was flat as a pencil line drawn across the page of my vision.  

I’ve been to some places, but as you can imagine there is a whole world that I have not touched. I believe as Caz puts it “Travel is not to run away, but toward.’

Perhaps our move to Hawaii was to run away, and that’s the reason we didn’t like it, but I have no regrets. To travel is to rise above and beyond who we are, to experience a new day every day, and to step out of our present conditions.

Imagine sitting in a dandelion-dotted field in Germany, the green so green it brings tears to your eyes,  and you are eating cold pizza from the night before, and it is the best you have ever tasted.

“When you travel, life around you is constantly changing. This means you never get lost in the blur of mundaneness. You’re highly aware of what is happening, how things move from one day to the next, and how to flow with change.

“It’s a mindfulness so easy to tap into, which is why I feel travel is so addictive.´--Caz

Can you remember what happened last Tuesday? I can’t.

Regarding her travel blog Caz writes: “It feels like it’s not very powerful because you’re just helping someone find a good burger, but in reality, we’re helping people create moments and memories. It’s those moments and memories that shape and impact their lives and lead them to new horizons and help them experience JOY.”

Caz went on to talk about Chakras and cleansing, and going to a spiritual medium, and said, ““Believe me when I say that writing this post brings me tears.”

She wanted to write about who she was but in doing so felt vulnerable and felt that people would judge her as being woo woo, or cuckoo and she realized that she was afraid of being criticized.

I realized, too, that here on this blog I have dampened who I was because I feared people would think  I was cuckoo, but in the process I come across lukewarm.

I do not want to be lukewarm, but then I wonder who am I. What do I believe, and what do I want to share?

And blogs can be so self-centered, but then what choice do we have, you aren’t here talking to me. It is a one-way conversation.

As I mentioned before I intend to go to a Tony Robbins 3-day event in November, and I know some people love him, while others have a strong negative reaction.  He is threatening. He doesn’t pull punches. He has been doing his work for so long he can read people and that is scary.

People are going to think whatever thoughts they want so we might as well do our thing and let the chips fall where they may.

"The possibility of having dreams come true is what makes life interesting,"--Paulo Coelho

What? It's Almost Over?

Summer, I hardly knew you.

When you were a kid, did you want summer to never end or were you anxious to go back to school?

I was on the side of wanting summer to last forever. Well, I would let winter in there, for I loved the snow too.

Then I did. Now I’m not racing down hill on a slid.

Oh but the summers, three whole months--heaven. 

Oh, later on when I was a teenager I had to pick cherries and peaches and apricots, but that was preferable to school. And I could ride my horse.

With my affection for horses, you can see why I must wish on a white horse now and again.

Want to have a conversation?

My horse wasn’t white and truth be known I prefer non-white horses, but they can be quite spectacular when cleaned up and gorgeous, and they are for wishing upon.

This is the only known surviving  picture of Boots and Joyce

Guess I’m waxing nostalgic, realizing that life changes and the body changes, and I’m not young anymore. 

Youth, you didn’t hang around long enough.

Richard Bach, author of Illusions and Jonathan Livingston Seagull said, “If you wonder if your mission on earth is over if you’re alive it isn’t.”

So here I am attempting to follow my mission, putting one foot in front of the other, and letting my fingers do the talking.

Odd that I didn’t like school, for I love reading, and learning, but being penned up for 6 hours a day, plus preparation and riding the school bus or walking to school—that shot the entire day.

I have mentioned before that one of my pet peeves is homework which ought to be called school work, but isn’t, because it is school work brought home.

Let kids be kids.

While I am on the subject of learning I found that the Barnes and Noble bookstore is kept afloat by selling adult coloring books, a new craze.

Walking through Barnes and Noble the other day I noticed that they are filling the tables with the classics—Hemingway, Steinbeck. Great, read those, but I wondered where the new Steinbeck's are. 

Ray Bradbury said, “If you can read you have an entire education.”

I'm Dumb

But not this dumb

#Jon Morrow said if I’m not getting massive traffic on my blog I’m dumb.

He gives away massive amounts of free stuff. If I want it, however, I must sign in with my email address. He must have me on his counter at least 20 times. Sneaky.

And then driving my ten-year-old grandson (eleven in October) to our house today and hearing about how he could make a paper thin computer keyboard proved Morrow right. I am dumb.

The paper-thin keyboard could be made with graphite. Graphite is an electricity conductor, pencil lead is graphite. It’s a little more complicated than that if one draws a circuit board with a pencil, and with wires, clips, a ground—human fingers work as the ground—and a  USB port one could type on the paper. That bit of news was followed by states of matter of which people think there is three, solid, liquid and gas, but he said there are four. The fourth is plasma, that is a state of being. And Star Wars Light Sabers are not made of light, he said, but of plasma. Next, he told me how they made the robot BB 8 in the latest Star Wars movie.  BB 8 is round and rolls, and if his head fell, my grandson says, he would still work. The body and head work together with magnets. And Tesla could create earthquakes, and stop his own…

My brain is fried.

Except, somewhere in the recesses of that brain, I am smarter now.

.

This week we found five acres and a cute little house we liked, decided to put in an offer the next day figuring it would go fast. The following day the owner chose one of the three offers that came in that day. And it was not us. What? One buyer came in with half the money for a downpayment. The nerve.

And here I had already mentally put in a brand-new kitchen.

I grieved for about 10 minutes, then said, “Okay great master, you have something better in store.” And I am relieved. I can breathe easy again. Sometimes the Great Spirit just has to watch out for me.

  

What did I want to talk about today?

Oh yes, I wanted to ask about this conundrum…

Happiness.

Most everybody says they want to be happy.

People search for happiness.

They pray for happiness.

They read Oprah about it.

Many write about it.

Our constitution says that everyone has a right to pursue happiness (not necessarily to have it) which implies that it is something everybody wants.

Why then are most stories about suffering?

If someone is just happy they are boring.

Give someone a dreaded sickness, allow them to overcome it, and people lap it up.

The hero must struggle.

The hero must overcome obstacles, he must work for it. If he just went with the flow and life was good, nobody would want to hear about it.

Well, we might ask him this: “How did you do that?” But if it came easy it would be suspect.

Please explain this to me.

I’m dumb.

I Don’t Know How I Feel About This

It’s complicated.

When my kids were growing up we lived in San Diego California, home of one of the largest Zoos in the world, and home of #Sea World.

Being residents, and with yearly passes, we frequented both places.

Some of our most poignant times were spent at Sea World. It was not as commercial in those days. It felt wilder then, with more of a natural setting.  It had aquariums, the dolphin, walrus, and sea lions shows, and the featured attraction #The Shamu Show.

We watched as the Killer Whale show aka The Shamu Show advanced from simple to extravagant. I never liked calling them Killer whales, and now people are calling them Orcas, their scientific name.

Before they built the large tanks of today we sat in Southern facing bleachers and burned our noses as we watched Shamu leap from the water and touch a pole so high the whale’s entire body was out of the water.

He circled the tank racing at high speed, splashed the audience, who chose to sit in the “splash zone,” and part of the show was to have a  volunteer, sometimes a child, stand on a platform and have the Orca “kiss” their cheek.

Not anymore.

We stared in awe and fascination as the shows advanced from “dancing” with the whales in the water, to watching as the whale and trainer disappeared under water only to appear seconds later, the whale leaping from the water with the trainer standing on its nose.

It was positively awesome. It made your heart sing. It brought tears to your eyes.

I thought the whales were goodwill ambassadors, showing the people that what had previously been called “Killer Whales,” were now interacting with people as friends.

And the whales seemed to be enjoying themselves.

My two girls learned to swim by having “Shamu rides” that is they would hold onto my back, hold their breath, and I would dive deep under the water, and we would come spurting up to the surface.

Those were glad times.

The last time we visited Sea World, about four years ago, we saw their new big glorious tank with close circuit television screens, a story on screen, but no trainer in the water with the whale.

It was disappointing.

I wondered if the whale having played with people for so long wondered why they no longer played with him.

A whale—not the original Shamu, one named Tilikum, had killed someone.

The whale was known to be aggressive, so why they got into the water with him is a mystery to me.

In my opinion, these smart people acted foolishly.

I once heard of an old man being killed by his “tame” ostrich. The ostrich had attacked him earlier on, but what did the man do? He went into its enclosure again and was kicked to death.

There was fervor over the whale killing incident. The whale had killed someone at his previous establishment, then at night at the Sea world facility he had apparently drowned a homeless man who got within grabbing—or falling into the tank, distance of the whale.

People forget that a wild animal always has wildness in him and that Killer Whales in the wild regularly pull seals from the rocks and eat them.

While driving down the Oregon coast one day my husband and I heard the loud barking of seals, we pulled off the road and looked down into a bay below us. There floated a big black and white Killer Whale. The seals were smart enough to warn the others.

If an animal is known to be a killer, stay out of the water. But, I wonder, should we then pass a law saying that no human ought to go into the water with a whale. Maybe no one ought to go into an enclosure with an ostrich either.

Should Sea world have captured whales from the wild?

I don’t know.

Much was learned from their captivity, and many people fell in love with them and came to realize that animals, previously thought to be vicious can be docile as kittens given the right environment.

After the outcry regarding capturing wild whales, Sea World stopped capturing them, and began breeding them in captivity.

Now that has stopped.

When the present whales die that will be the end of whale shows at Sea World.  There was a documentary made titled “Black Fish,” that my daughter watched, I didn’t, and it changed her mind about keeping the whales in captivity. People were outraged at their treatment.

People ought to be outraged whenever an animal is treated badly, yet many people have championed their cause. They rescued Keiko from a tiny tank in Mexico (Yes, I saw a dog in a crate in Mexico too, but people still crate their dog.) The people who rescued Keiko somehow got a large gorgeous tank at Newport Oregon built for him. During his years there he gained over a ton of weight.  Later he was released into the wild. Where I believe, he was without a family, for he had bonded with people.

It was a tough decision. People wanted what was best for him. I hope he forgave us our ignorance.

It’s tough isn’t it, knowing what the “right” thing is?

People who only know wild animals or livestock, see them as either dangerous, or lacking intelligence, or use them as machines, or for work, food, or entertainment.  I always hated it when as a child I heard that humans have "Dominion over the animals." People took that as a license for power. 

A wild animal can be dangerous when threatened or encroached upon. But to live intimately with an animal shows the human partner how loving they can be. How they form bonds with species other than their own, and that animals, like people, they have individual personalities.

Once I adopted a 5 ½-month-old mustang from the Bureau of Land Management in Burns Oregon. True she had been born at their facility as her mother was pregnant when removed from the wild.  But she was a wild animal.

Within a week she was eating out of my hand, and allowed me to remove the lead rope she had been dragging since we loaded her at the facility. When I released her from her round pen she ran around the paddock at such a speed, I thought, Good heavens, am I ever getting on that animal?

She was the sweetest horse, and so curious. She loved to play with plastic Pepsi bottles in a box.  She was a darling pet, but never a trustable riding horse—but not that well trained either.  I did saddle her and ride her a bit, and she never bucked with me, but she could act a little cuckoo. I remembered the trainer Pat Parelli said to always remember that they were once wild, and still had wildness in them.

Sierra

People train whales, lions, etc. and once in awhile someone gets hurt. Seeing an animal in such a loving situation people forget they aren’t pussycats. (Have you ever seen a feral cat? Try to hold that animal.)

I was motivated to think about this after I saw #Rachel Jones blog “#Hippie in Heels,” ask the question: “Should We Visit Sea World?”

My Heart Leapt at This

Not the picture, Caz's comments:

“I would have liked to have heard a few more stories with joy as a focus. I feel like joy gets overshadowed too much by struggle and pain. The stories of pain are important so we never feel alone and it’s where we gain strength, BUT, it’s equally important to put joy on the centre stage too. Feeling joy is not something to hide away and I think society has a habit of doing this. Not surprising given how much the news dominates our space. I want to hear about joy more. I want to feel joy more. There was a lovely bracelet making service at BlogHer where you could give them a word and they’d etch it on a bracelet for you. My word was JOY. It’s why we’re here. Give JOY a chance.”

The above quote is from Caz who flew from Australia to L.A. to attend the #BlogHer conference. Caz is a world renowned blogger who writes YTravelBlog. Her photo won a BlogHer award and she was thus invited.

Caz: “A consistent message from all the speakers was the valuable role bloggers have to help make a positive difference in the world.”

Me: Here I am a little blogger sitting in my own little corner of the world wondering if I have anything of importance to say… can I make a difference, and why am I drawn to this avenue of expression in the first place?

Someone asked me the other day what I blog about. “Life, and whatever I choose to talk about,” I said, "and I want to be inspirational."

To whom? You? Me?

Both of us.

I trust that my audience will find me. You know if you aim your boat upstream, it takes a lot of paddling, but if you turn your boat to the current it will carry you...

Caz: “Instead of looking sideways, I’m going to throw out. It’s a term I just made up as I wrote that last sentence. Each time I go to cut myself down and underplay my value, I’m going to look up and throw something valuable out to the world – either a kind and supportive word or way that I can serve someone else to help them grow.”

Me: Yesterday I listened to a YouTube interview with #Terry Cole Whittiker. My long time readers know I love that woman. I had never felt such love as I did the weekend I spent with her. On YouTube, she was talking about her early days in the Science of the Mind ministry. When she was first asked to speak she didn’t know how to do it. So she cut inspirational passages from various books, pasted them on a yellow legal pad, and read them verbatim.

She was met with silence.

And then after the stunned audience recovered they applauded.

Her friend said to her, “Terry, you’re a speaker.”

And thus the speaker was born.

Her church grew to something like 7,000 attendees, and she had a national TV show. Now she lives in nature where she says she’s the happiest. And she seems to be following her own inner guidance, which is something I am trying to do. (Don’t try. Do.)

Caz: "Sheryl Crow spoke at the BlogHer conference about her breast cancer journey and how it returned her to whole foods and the nourishment of herself. “A lot of the stress we live with now is a result of what we let in – the constant barrage of people’s opinion”  

Sheryl says:

“Being empowered means seeking what our soul wants. Life is made up of circumstances reminding you of who you are.”

Caz: “I absolutely loved this. It was the quote of the conference for me alongside Jessie Weiner, who said in the panel discussion about feminism:

“When do the grown ups step in to fix this. Hang on we are the grown ups”

Me: The reason I began my new blog http://www.traveling-through-life.com is that I watched Marie Forleo's UTube interview with Tony Robbins regarding his documentary created by Joe Berlinger titled "I Am Not Your Guru." 

(How did that come to me? A stumble? Divine guidance?)

That interview prompted me to watch the documentary.  What an event! Awesome. Touching. Inspiring. (It’s available free on Netflix.) If strong language offends you, don’t watch, but it would be a shame to miss it.

Now, I wonder, do I have the courage to go to a #Tony Robbins live event?

I once saw him in Portland at a millennium 

Celebration. That would be 16 years ago!

My friend and I felt we were walking on air when we left the auditorium. But now, the closest Robbins' event to me features a fire walk. Yipes! 

The next Robbins even is coming up in November. I'm considering it.

What to hear about it? Oh my, what am I setting myself up for?

Thanks for reading.

Keep checking in with www.wishonwhitehorses.com you know I Love you guys,

Joyce