Divine Masculine

48. ASCENSION

Excerpt from “My Lovedance”

During a guided meditation in my women’s circle, I saw an image of my Higher Self. Emerging from the heart of the earth, I sat astride a powerful horse, my golden body in sweet repose, a heavy dampness on my back…furled wings! Feeling compelled to create Her into form, I took my joy to my Q&A journal where I converse with my Higher Self. I’m the Q, she’s the A…

Q. Your form amazed me!
A. I am your Higher Self. Well connected to the Mother with the ability to fly through the dimensions.

Q. I would love to paint you, but I have not the skill
A. Ahh. You will see that your ability to manifest is not limited to what you know but all you “remember’. Time is a spiral. There is an artist in you.

I prefer to work with my hands so I thought “maybe a sculpture”. So I called Grandmother Kathy. She’s a retired art teacher. I asked if she had clay I could come and play with. “Of course!” she said and every Monday morning for 13 weeks I went to her house.

Grandmother Kathy midwifed me as I birthed my vision. The process was amazing. I never before created anything with such ease. I would work a little and then just put it aside. Patience was also birthed from my play with clay.

My Higher-Self assured me that my hands would “remember” how to form clay. And they did…

This sculpture that I created, I call Her Ascension, is my Higher Self formed from clay. Not only feminine, but in sacred union with the masculine. That is who I am now. She is who I’ve become in my 50 years on earth. Finally balanced.

When She was ready to be taken out of the kiln I drove to Kathy’s house filled with trepidation…and remembered for the first time…the feeling of driving to UCLA to pick up Jarys from the NICU. My whole life was going to change when I brought HER home, just like it did when I brought Jarys home. Not that I hadn’t transitioned in the time it took to create HER or the time it took to gestate, birth and wait for my premature baby to be strong enough to come home. Then I was cast back to 1984… my life forever changed by Jarys’ birth…

I nearly died giving birth. I had a rare form of toxemia called HEELP syndrome in which my sky rocketing blood pressure caused seizures while my liver and kidneys started to fail. And our premature 2 ½ pound baby was born intersex. While pregnant, I dreamt of a blond baby boy, so it was no surprise when our baby’s chromosome test revealed the male XY pattern. Yet the pediatric endocrinologist advised we raise our child as a girl. Neither of our mothers understood. The doctor explained that our child would not have secondary sex characteristics. “What’s that?” Our mothers asked. So I explained. “Body and facial hair.”

They laughed. “We’re Greek and Italian. The women in our family have to shave! That’s no reason to castrate the baby!” The endocrinologist had no experience with families who did not follow her medical advice. We were told, “It’s easier to make a hole than a pole.” I was shocked, not by the bluntness, but by the total lack of consideration for the effect of “his” hormones on the developing brain. If we raised “him” as a girl what psychological trauma would “she” undergo at puberty or later in young adulthood. The experts didn’t know. So at 22 and 23 years old, Steve and I had to make a very difficult choice. We decided to follow my intuition, go against medical advice, and raise our baby as a boy.

Jarys became my impetus to learn everything about hormones. I felt intuitively that his DNA was not set in stone but could change. He could make cell receptors for male hormone. He could be anything he wanted to be. So I became a hormone expert which led to developing an Intuitive Integrative Medical model, which led to researching the hypothalamus and genetic upregulation, which led to the dreams of a formula to optimize genetic potential, which led to the manufacture of Genesis Gold® – which has changed my life.

Since bringing Ascension home, my life has changed again. My relationship has deepened even more with my beloved husband. My relationship with my mother became more refined. I have truly released my firstborn and they are blossoming. My daughter grows in leaps and bounds and no longer am I entangled with her. My relationship with my sisters is blooming – no drama at the last family gathering. And being with my father was joyous – Thank God! I am in deep gratitude to my Higher Self for helping me birth my truth.

47. MY ALTAR, MYSELF

Excerpt from “My Lovedance”

Directly across from the door to our home is my altar. A lavender macramé cloth covers the small winged table. Objects sacred to me adorn the four corners with candles in the cardinal directions.

The altar changes from time to time according to my needs. Often my children ask to be put on the altar. And I make elaborate altars for them, holding the energy as they face challenges like when my eldest interviewed for their first real teaching job (and thankfully got it!), and my daughter tested for nursing school (and she got in too!) When Steve’s Gran first fell ill, he asked me to dedicate an altar for her. And after she passed, the altar reflected our love and devotion to her.

Today, items sacred to our upcoming retreat lie on the altar…The red cord I made to help us connect to our ancestors and each other. The crow’s feather bound in triple goddess colors that helped us choose the theme of our retreat. A golden frame filled with photos of men I treasure — my husband, my father, my grandfather — my beloved divine masculine.

And in the front — my Box of Me.

I made this one up… but what healing has come from creating a Box of Me. It started just after my father’s surgery, my sisters had moved him into a senior apartment complex and found a box of old photos. In it was a photo I do not recall, but looking at the black and white image of me at thirteen months old dressed in an Easter dress holding a little purse and gazing out with old soul eyes, I remembered. Showing my parents how to parent me and feeling their emotions. I took that photo and pasted it on the Box of Me. Somehow I would heal the child within. And through the Box of Me, placing me on my altar.

Inside the Box of Me, the mementos change yet each represents my dreams, my hopes, my intentions. I’ve guided many patients and some women friends in the creation of a Box of Me. How therapeutic it has been to honor ourselves, to put into this special box all that we hope for and say to the universe YES! Yes, I am. And more so to fall in love with ourselves. Because that’s where love starts. If we don’t love and honor and cherish ourselves, how can we love and honor and cherish each other?

It’s hard for most women to make a Box of Me…harder yet to place anything sacred within their Box of Me. It is start, a fresh start to healing the child within. I ask them to choose a photo of themselves that is before the time they remember the trauma of childhood. The innocent time before becoming domesticated into humanity. A time when they remember being happy. Few go back to adolescence, most go back early childhood, some all the way back to infancy.

In the center lies the golden runner embroidered by Steve’s Yia Yia…a wedding gift given to me by his father who came from Greece to witness our union 28 years ago. Upon the runner sits Ascension.

18. THE 11:11 PORTALS

Since the beginning of 2011, the 11th of each month has felt…well, different. After the Japanese earthquake, I was sure I wasn’t the only one feeling the 11th. So I googled it and found the 11th of each month described as vibrational portals leading to 11-11-11. On 4-11-11, I felt compelled to hold ceremony so I called up Grandmother Kathy and took her to the beach.

In sacred ceremony, we gifted the ocean with the intention of healing the earth. I felt this intense energy coming from the sun…no actually through the sun and recognized the galactic center blessing us. On the wet low tide sands, I danced the sacred union of Father Sun and Mother Earth…what an amazing experience!
Lately, I keep seeing multiples of 11 every time I look at the clock (11, 22, 33, 44). I looked up the significance of these master numbers and calculated my numerology number by birth date and it is 22…but still this doesn’t settle my soul…something more is up.

On Monday, I awoke with a vague melancholy. Then I realized the date…7-11-11…and felt compelled to hold ceremony again…but what? Trusting all would be well I opened my journal in hopes of inspiration and…. it came to me…

…These portals are DNA activations! In alignment with the chakra’s…the first three were not as noticeable to me (I can only guess that these layers are well activated by Genesis Gold®), the fourth felt like a celebration of the heart chakra…Love… the fifth and sixth were subtle, yet this seventh was in alignment with work I’ve been doing regarding the Pineal gland. And I have always known the crown chakra to be a connection to the heavens, the multi-dimensional universe. Perhaps why we bow our head in prayer, exposing our crowns to the mouth of God.

So on 7-11-11 at 11:11 dressed in violets, I lay under my oak tree to meditate.

And for the first time since I was a child, I felt the presence of Father God. He spoke to me. Explaining that it took this long for me to bond well with the Divine Mother, to discover my truth and transform from human doing to human being…to live as the embodiment of the Divine Daughter and encompass Divine Mother energy into my life with deep honoring of the Divine Grandmother.

He showed me how easily I partnered with the Divine Masculine in Steve and received it in other men. How bravely I tried to heal my relationship with my father …yet still I searched for guidance from the Divine Father.

In answer to my heart prayers of healing the father wound, He came.

And showed me, me as light! A juicy brilliant orange-red began the light show and I felt filled from root to belly…hormonally rejuvenated. Then lime green darkening to peridot as the light rose from solar plexus to heart. The greens deepened to a glorious teal, fluid and dancing with lovely lilac in the center…my heart filled. Then my throat alighted in clear blue, brilliant as the sky and here where I hold trepidation, finally healed by the blue light of truth. Then my head filled with violet, not purple of my youth, but a deep violet that circled around to red and became fuchsia. My new auric color! He showed me that I’ve come full circle and begin again at 50.

The communication was long and deep. For I saw my own DNA dancing. Not the double helix formation but a spiraling spherical star of DNA, many layers deep, no, not layers, He said, not stacked but intertwined, and I looked deeper and saw brilliant strands dancing figure eights of infinity, meeting in the center of the star sphere, some switching partners, some dancing in triplets…Seven lit up brilliantly…four more dancing in the shadows, and the last yet to be enlightened.

All the while Father God spoke to me. He explained how he watched over me all this time through the eyes of crow. My deep connection to this magical black bird that so many fear…it was serving My Father. The one I turned away from so long ago.

No judgment, no sorrow during this glorious reunion with My Father. Only light and love. Exactly what I ask for every time I feel fear. That my fear be lifted and I be filled with light and love. And now I know it has been Him…answering my prayers.

Oh, I am still very much one with My Mother. She flows through me….and I felt Her great Joy as I received Him. She held me in her arms as She presented me, Her Divine Daughter, to My Father. I am so blessed.

I arose at 11:55, 44 minutes in divine communication. I am profoundly affected…the light was so healing…I know now what Yeshua meant by My Father and I are One.

Excerpt from My LoveDance. Available on Amazon

17. BLOSSOMING SPIRIT

Every year my women’s circle holds a retreat. In 2010, I felt this great need for freedom by the time we chose our theme. The group asked me to intuitively choose a card from the Triple Goddess Deck. I used another woman’s Kuan Yin necklace to act as a pendulum. The card chosen was Karmic Imprints and it was all about freedom—freedom from ancestral imprinting and your shadow. The work was deep and dark and powerful. What an amazing life changing retreat. That is where I finally let go of the last of my judgment. Finally let go of Bulimic Deb.

This year before we met for our first planning meeting, crow left me a feather…Bringer of the Triple Goddess Tarot Cards, I tied the triple goddess colors of white, red, and black around the crow feather and the eldest “crone” of our circle used the feather to divine the card. Blossoming Spirit was chosen—card number 5, the hierophant—with a strong rejuvenation theme. Just what I dreamt for our next retreat.

For three weeks, I asked crow for another feather having given up the beautiful one to the circle. And only after I abandoned the search to go on a carefree run with my dog Charlie did I find a black and white feather…balance…and then crow graced me with a pure black feather under the orange tree—where I pick sunshine to consume every morning before greeting my animals and old man crow!

Some of us felt that to truly birth ourselves anew as Blossoming Spirit, we must identify what is golden in the Divine Masculine. Yet most of the circle struggled with patriarchy. The emotional energy was so profound that I can remember to this day who was at the meeting, where they sat, what they wore, what they said. I watched as a few of the women took on the warrior energy while some just left their bodies. I was almost tempted to gather them into a protective circle of white light, when I felt guided to just observe.

After witnessing their reaction, I took my heavy heart to my beloved husband who shone some divine masculine light of wisdom upon me. Then I sat in counsel with my higher self, consulted with wise women and wondered when this Father Wound would be finally healed. For Blossoming Spirit to emerge at the fall equinox, balance must be reached.

It is time to heal the split with the Divine Masculine. I began this work exactly a year ago, composing and publishing two articles regarding the Divine Masculine before I was hit with Death…there my focus lie for months through the Karmic Imprint retreat and well after as I released all that no longer served my soul.

The summer before, I had an amazing dream that reminded me of an aspect of the Divine Masculine that has been forgotten…

I enter the Home Depot through the lumber department to get to the garden center. I’m going to buy jasmine. The center of the Home Depot is a raised platform and as I ascend the steps to the platform, a great Golden Bear comes through the door. It’s huge, larger than life, a golden orange color, translucent, brilliantly colored like a child’s crayon, surreal. I’m the only one to see it. It snuffles around the entry and I crouch down on the steps. It snuffles its way over to me. And snuffles my hair, my face, my neck. Then taps a great claw over my right eye, then over my third eye, again and again. Then it hunkers down over me like a mother bear over a cub. Yet I know this bear is male. I feel loved and protected like when Steve throws a leg over me, pulls me into his body—trapped by love. Trapped under the bear, I am secure, feeling the soft fur of its belly, the weight of its body, the warmth, the mass…protected in a golden cave of bear energy. Then the bear transforms into a…man. I can feel his naked body, the roughness of his hair, the shift in weight, mass, warmth from bear to man. We stand and face each other. I am WOMAN and He is MAN…all men, naked, dark skin and hair like a Mediterranean man. We take each other’s hands and then he disappears. A woman friend of mine says… “That is the forgotten aspect of the Divine Masculine.” And I wake up.

When I lie in Steve’s arms, his leg pressing over mine—the weight, heat and furriness comfortable, secure, I am very grateful to have found my home in his heart. I live with the Golden Bear energy of the Divine Masculine.

Although I have taken steps to heal my relationship with my own father and it’s going well, the Divine Masculine is up again…wanting to be healed in my soul, in the collective feminine, in the world…

Excerpt from My LoveDance. Available on Amazon

The Father and I are One

Since the beginning of the year, the 11th of each month has felt…well, different. After the Japanese earthquake, I was sure I wasn’t the only one feeling the 11th. So I googled it and found the 11th of each month described as vibrational portals leading to 11-11-11. On 4-11-11, I felt compelled to hold ceremony so I called up Grandmother Kathy and took her to the beach. In sacred ceremony we gifted the ocean with the intention of healing the earth. I felt this intense energy coming from the sun…no actually through the sun and recognized the galactic center blessing us. On the wet low tide sands, I danced the sacred union of Father Sun and Mother Earth…what an amazing experience!

Lately, I keep seeing multiples of 11 every time I look at the clock (11, 22, 33, 44). I looked up the significance of these master numbers and calculated my numerology number by birth date and it is 22…but still this doesn’t settle my soul…something more is up.

On Monday, in spite of having accomplished everything I need before our vacation commenced, I awoke with a vague melancholy. Then I realized the date…7-11-11…and felt compelled to hold ceremony again…but what? Trusting all would be well I opened my journal in hopes of inspiration and…. it came to me…

…These portals are DNA activations! In alignment with the chakra’s…the first three were not as noticeable to me (I can only guess that these layers are well activated by Genesis Gold), the fourth felt like a celebration of the heart chakra…Love… the fifth and sixth were subtle, yet this seventh was in alignment with work I’ve been doing regarding the Pineal gland. And I have always known the crown chakra to be a connection to the heavens, the multi-dimensional universe. Perhaps why we bow our head in prayer, exposing our crowns to the mouth of God.

At the same time, healing the split with the Divine Masculine has come up in my women’s circle. I began this work exactly a year ago, composing and publishing two articles regarding the Divine Masculine before I was hit with Death…there my focus lie for months through the Karmic Imprint retreat and well after as I released all that no longer served my soul.

I have taken steps to heal my relationship with my own father and while it’s going well, still the Divine Masculine is up again…wanting to be healed in my soul, in the collective feminine, in the world…

I spent my early days as the divine child…androgynous in my being…then embodied the divine son energy using my mind to make my mark in the world, emerging ever so cautiously as the divine daughter…first as lover, then wife, then mother, then peace, oh blessed peace with my sacred femininity as I consumed the bounty of the Earth Mother in Genesis Gold. Then I wrote my experience in LoveDance…the Divine Daughter well rooted in me…that was 8 years ago…over the past year and a half, struggling to compose book two of the LoveDance series, I have been excavating the father wound…naming it, writing it, praying about it, then acting upon it. Knowing that this year, 2011—the year I celebrate my 50th birthday—the time is finally ripe to become whole.

During a guided meditation in my women’s circle, I saw an image of my higher self. And felt compelled to create Her into form. I took my joy to my Q&A journal where I converse with my higher self and she assured me that my hands would “remember” how to form clay. And they did…

Ascencion

This sculpture that I created under the midwifery of Grandmother Kathy—I call Her, Ascencion—is my Higher Self formed from clay. Not only feminine, but in sacred union with the masculine. That is who I am now. She is who I’ve become in my 50 years on earth. Finally balanced.

When it was time to bring Her home after months of work, I was feeling trepidation. Excitement, yet trepidation too. Then I was cast back to 1984, driving to UCLA to pick up Jarys from the NICU…my life forever changed then…and now it would be changed again.

Since bringing Ascencion home, my life has changed. My relationship has deepened even more with my beloved husband. My relationship with my mother has become more refined. I have truly released my son and he is blossoming. My daughter grows in leaps and bounds and no longer am I entangled with her. My relationship with my sisters is blooming…no drama at the last family gathering. And being with my father was joyous….Thank God!

After witnessing the heartfelt struggle with patriarchy from the women in my circle, I took my heavy heart to my beloved husband who shone some divine masculine light of wisdom upon me. Then I sat in counsel with my higher self, consulted with wise women and wondered when this Father Wound would be finally healed. For Blossoming Spirit—the theme of our upcoming retreat—to emerge at the fall equinox, balance must be reached.

Before we met for our first planning meeting, crow left me a feather…I was bringer of the Triple Goddess Tarot Cards from which our women’s circle would choose. I had tied the triple goddess colors of white, red, and black around the crow feather and the eldest “crone” of our circle used the feather to divine the card. Blossoming Spirit was chosen—card number 5, the hierophant—with a strong rejuvenation theme. Just what I dreamt for our next retreat.

For three weeks, I asked crow for another feather having given up the beautiful one to the circle. And only after I abandoned the search and went on a carefree run with Charlie in the meadow to find a black and white feather…balance…only then did crow grace me with a pure black feather under the orange tree—where I pick sunshine to consume every morning before greeting my animals and old man crow!

So on 7-11-11 at 11:11 dressed in violets, I lay under my oak tree to meditate.

And for the first time since I was a child, I felt the presence of Father God. He spoke to me. Explaining that it took this long for me to bond well with the Divine Mother, to discover my truth and transform from human doing to human being…to live as the embodiment of the Divine Daughter and encompass Divine Mother energy into my life with deep honoring of the Divine Grandmother.

He showed me how easily I partnered with the Divine Masculine in Steve and received it in other men. How bravely I tried to heal my relationship with my father …yet still I searched for guidance from the Divine Father.

In answer to my heart prayers of healing the father wound, He came.

And showed me, me as light! A juicy brilliant orange-red began the light show and I felt filled from root to belly…hormonally rejuvenated. Then lime green darkening to peridot as the light rose from solar plexus to heart. The greens deepened to a glorious teal, fluid and dancing with lovely lilac in the center…my heart filled. Then my throat alighted in clear blue, brilliant as the sky and here where I hold trepidation, finally healed by the blue light of truth. Then my head filled with violet, not purple of my youth, but a deep violet that circled around to red and became fuchsia. My new auric color! He showed me that I’ve come full circle and begin again at 50.

The communication was long and deep. For I saw my own DNA dancing. Not the double helix formation but a spiraling spherical star of DNA, many layers deep, no, not layers, He said, not stacked but intertwined, and I looked deeper and saw brilliant strands dancing figure eights of infinity, meeting in the center of the star sphere, some switching partners, some dancing in triplets…Seven lit up brilliantly…four more dancing in the shadows, and the last yet to be enlightened.

All the while Father God spoke to me. He explained how he watched over me all this time through the eyes of crow. My deep connection to this magical black bird that so many fear…it was serving My Father. The one I turned away from so long ago.

No judgment, no sorrow during this glorious reunion with My Father. Only light and love. Exactly what I ask for every time I feel fear. That my fear be lifted and I be filled with light and love. And now I know it has been Him…answering my prayers.

Oh, I am still very much one with My Mother. She flows through me….and I felt Her great Joy as I received Him. She held me in her arms as She presented me, Her Divine Daughter, to My Father. I am so blessed.

I arose at 11:55, 44 minutes in divine communication. I am profoundly affected…the light was so healing…I know now what Yeshua meant by My Father and I are One.

ITALIAN HUGS AND KISSES

We didn’t go to Philly often…Once when I was about five, my mother took all of us little girls on the plane to visit Nana and Poppop. The twins were three and the youngest a year old. We were dressed as if to go to church. You had to dress up to fly in the 60’s. My stiff red frock barely covered the frilly slip. My thick hair flipped up from my stylish page cut to peek around the little white hat. I tried to be still and keep my sisters quiet by reading them a book, but excitement got the best of me. So when the plane landed and the stewardess helped Mommy take all four of us down the stairs, finally I could see my grandparents waving at us. Not responsible for either twin, I was free to run into their arms. 

I don’t remember my father on that trip. But I do remember Poppop’s joy at seeing us. The press of his big lips against my cheek.  Enveloping my senses with his Old Spice cologne. Caressing my face with the softest oiled leather hands on any man I’ve ever known. Pop held me as if to never let me go. 

Their row house on Sheridan Street was home. The house I remember from my infancy. The plastic covered furniture. (Nana was obsessively neat!) The smell of sautéed garlic permeating every room. The skinny stairway and the pink bathroom! Sharing a comfy wide bed with the twins, playing in the converted basement filled with toys! More toys than we had at home…most were mine left over from when we lived with Nana and Poppop…including Tony the Pony!—a mechanical horse given to me for Christmas 1962—I was only twenty months old…Mommy was very, very pregnant with the twins and Daddy was taking my picture with a movie camera. I was chasing Nana on my pony and kept going in circles. Poppop would try to help and I would laugh and laugh because now he was chasing me! 

So many wonderful memories of my grandparents. We flew from California to visit them again when I was nine and then about fourteen. After that visit, my father made me promise that when I graduated high school in four years that I would go back East with them. Of course I would! He had more foresight than me. By the time I was 18, I was desperately in love with Steve (we met in high school track in my junior year) and did NOT want to go with THEM and leave HIM! 

A promise is a promise. So in the summer of 1979, we once again flew back to Philadelphia. And there I was in Poppop’s embrace, the smell of his Old Spice cologne filling my senses, the feel of his oiled leather hand against my cheek, and his sad, long face when we had to go. After six weeks away, I couldn’t WAIT to return to Steve’s embrace. But I felt Poppop’s heart break and even now I cannot erase from my mind’s eye his sad face at our parting. 

Nana and Poppop came to visit us every summer. They stayed three months from the end of one school year to the beginning of the next. They took us on wonderful trips—to Disneyland and SeaWorld, San Francisco and Vegas (we stayed in Circus Circus!)—lots of fun and adventure. Poppop paid for everything. And before school began, we went shopping for new school clothes, shoes and accessories. He would wait outside the shops while Nana and Mom helped us in the dressing rooms. He just handed Nana money from a thick roll and waited until we got everything we needed. “Are you happy, Poppy?” He would ask. “Did you get everything you wanted?” Sometimes my little sister would put on her pouty face and get one more blouse or belt and then of course, he insisted the rest of us get more. One year when we were all teenagers, he bought us leather jackets…very stylish. He spoiled us! 

The summer Poppop got to meet Steve, I was so excited. I knew Poppop would love Steve, how could he not…Pop loved me…so of course he would love my boyfriend! Spending nearly every summer with us, my grandparents had met a few boyfriends of ours and Poppop greeted each of them the same way—with a kiss. In the manner of Italian men. All the boys were very uncomfortable with him. Not Steve. Being a good Greek boy, he accepted Pop’s kiss graciously. And Poppop turned to me and said, “You keep this one.” I did. 

Steve adored him. How could he not? Poppop was the most generous loving man you could ever meet. Always happy to help you, delighted to spend time with you, so sad to leave you. He was kind to everyone and everyone loved him. 

But Poppop died eight months before Steve and I got married. I was devastated. They had come to California just before Christmas, finally, to retire. Poppop looked really bad when he got off the plane. Only a student nurse but I knew…he was dying. I tried to do everything I could to save him. Being the only medical one in the family…they all looked to me to explain what was happening.  Although sober for twenty years, he had cirrhosis. His liver no longer able to detoxify his blood and began to poison him. His mind became foggy and he could not do much for himself. But he wanted to look presentable so, he would ask Steve to shave him. And Steve did, tenderly and with tears in his eyes, even the day we had to put him in the hospital just before New Years, Poppop didn’t want to go unshaven. Just 21 days after coming to be with us, Pop died. 

I don’t remember the funeral. I know I went. They say I was there, but I don’t remember. I’ve blocked it and my pain blocked Poppop from coming to me afterwards for over seven years. Not until the fall of 1990 did I dream of my dear Pop. Steve had finished building the kids a jungle gym in the corner of our backyard. In my dream, Pop was playing pinnacle with one of the twins on a wooden front porch where Steve had built the jungle gym. I sat down with them and Poppop motioned for me to pick up the dummy hand and play. I whispered, “Where’s Nana?” She had died just 20 months after Pop in 1984. My sister said, “She’ll come when Steve finishes the kitchen.” Of course, Nana was always in the kitchen. 

Later that year, I was driving the kids to visit my family. Trepidation gripped my heart. I didn’t want to go without Steve. Even on Thanksgiving he had to work. Crime takes no holidays…so neither do policemen. Yet it was more than leaving my beloved…I had visions of crashing the car…and most of my visions came true. I didn’t want to go. 

Yet we were expected, so I packed up the Volvo with all the pies I had made, strapped the kids into their car seats and paused to wrap us in white light. Only two and six, Kyra and Jarys smiled at the white light. Still as I drove down the highway with my precious cargo, I was afraid. And suddenly, I smelled Old Spice and felt an oiled leather hand caress my cheek and heard…”It’s ok, Poppy.” Tears poured down my cheeks. How grateful I was to have this divine connection. Jarys piped up from the back, “It smells like Poppop!” Yes, my precious son, it did. 

Since then, I have experienced hugs and kisses through the ethers whenever I needed them. Love thins the veil between the worlds of this I am sure. 

I love you, Poppop. XOXOXO

Remembering the Divine Masculine

One thing I learned in writing LoveDance is that life at least for me is about Joyous Service. My husband and I are both in helping professions—he as a police officer and me as a family nurse practitioner. The stories we share at the dinner table of our respective work day are often quite similar. As a healer, I spend a lot of time educating my patients, counseling them, guiding them with heartfelt advice. As a police officer, Steve protects and serves…truly he is more of a peace officer. There is not enough room in this blog to record all the incidences of him helping others through their issues. 

Last year, we stopped in Santa Barbara for brunch on the way up to our favorite romantic getaway in Cambria. While we were dining, a gentleman greeted Steve with such profound respect and gratitude. I asked about him and Steve said that some 20 years ago, he arrested him. Before the man was imprisoned, Steve advised him to use the experience to help him grow. “And he did!” Steve said proudly, “He paid back society and became a responsible outstanding citizen raising a fine family in our town.”   You see, we both take care of those in need. 

Last evening after an impromptu date—dinner on the pier and a stroll through a summer street fair, I was making Steve’s lunch. My daughter teases that even though she and her brother are gone, I’m still packing lunches. A dear friend of mine just reminded me how I showed her years ago how to cut the kids sandwiches into shapes. I used to put little notes in their lunches—words of encouragement, of love, of hope. 

Well, as I was making Steve’s lunch, I felt my grandmother’s presence. Nana used to do so much for Poppop, most of which he could have done for himself, yet she needed to do it. Serving him fulfilled her. And he was always extremely grateful. My mother served my father in the same fashion…yet something was missing. It was more of an expectation of how wives and husbands act. They divorced after 24 years of marriage. My grandparents were married over 40 years; unfortunately they died young. Poppop was only 62. Nana followed him to the grave twenty months later. She stayed around just long enough to hold her first great-grandchild, my son—Jarys. I have a photo of her cradling him in her arms. She was dying of lung cancer, in a wheelchair with a cannula of oxygen hanging from her nostrils. He’s only three pounds—born ten weeks premature—under the eerie glow of the neonatal intensive care unit, gazing at her intently. She died shortly after that one and only visit. I miss both my Nana and Pop. 

But last night, Nana was with me as I prepared Steve’s lunch. Holding the energy of love as I sliced the left over steak, washed and tore the baby lettuce, arranged the roma tomato. As I made vinaigrette, I felt her guiding me…a pinch of Italian herbs, a little salt, a bit of pepper sprinkled into the olive oil and balsamic vinegar. 

When I was done, I found Steve doing his back exercises in the bedroom. “Why do we take such care of one another?” I asked. 

“Because we love each other so much.” He smiled and gave me a kiss. 

True, but I think it’s more. You see, he takes care of me so well. He cooks for me…and he’s an amazing chef…he took care of the kids with the finesse of any mother…he spends time with me…and enjoys it! After 27 years of marriage we are still very much in love. We are best friends, each other’s truest confidantes. 

Yet we have lives outside of us….I do my things…I have a circle of dear women I meet with regularly, a very spiritual supportive group. I love horses and can be found riding far and wide on my mare all over Ojai. I meet with my three sisters once or twice a year for a girls’ weekend and regularly spend girls’ time with my daughter. I work with my mother (she’s my office manager) but we “play” well together too. 

And he does his “guy” things. A yearly backpacking trip with old friends. Lunch and golfing with new ones. Biking from Santa Barbara to Ventura with a colleague. Just the men. 

It’s as if we created virtual chamams. In LoveDance, Mary meets with the women during her monthly periods in the baths. A special time just for them, taking care of one another. 

I believe caring for one another out of love not expectation, taking joy in the service of our beloved is key to our long and happy marriage. 

Last summer, I had an amazing dream that reminded me of an aspect of the Divine Masculine that has been forgotten, yet I see it so clearly in my husband. 

The Golden Bear 

In my dream I was entering the Home Depot through the lumber department to get to the garden center. I was going to buy jasmine. The center of the Home Depot was a raised platform and as I ascended the steps to the platform, a great golden bear came through the door. It was huge, larger than life, a golden orange color, translucent, brilliantly colored like a child’s crayon, surreal. I was the only one to see it. It snuffled around the entry and I crouched down on the steps. It snuffled its way over to me. And snuffled my hair, my face, my neck. Then tapped a great claw over my right eye, then over my third eye, again and again. Then it hunkered down over me like a mother bear over a cub. Yet I knew this bear was male. I felt loved and protected like when Steve throws a leg over me, pulls me into his body—trapped by love. Trapped under the bear, I was secure, feeling the soft fur of its belly, the weight of its body, the warmth, the mass…protected in a golden cave of bear energy. Then the bear transformed into a…man. I could feel his naked body, the roughness of his hair, the shift in weight, mass, warmth from bear to man. We stood and faced each other. I was WOMAN and He was MAN…all men, naked, dark skinned and hair like a Mediterranean man. We took each others hands and then he disappeared. A woman friend of mine said… “That is the forgotten aspect of the Divine Masculine.” And I woke up. 

When I lie in Steve’s arms, his leg pressing over mine—the weight, heat and furriness comfortable, secure, I am very grateful to have found my home in his heart. 

I pray the GOLDEN BEAR ENERGY OF THE DIVINE MASCULINE becomes well known by all. 

While I hope my writing is enlightening, in essence this blog is my healing journey. I have kept a journal since my youth. The pages have always welcomed me, comforted me in times of sorrow, and gave me space to place my reflections. In writing, I learn more about me, about my life, about my world. And usually it is what I cared most to record in my precious journal that I use to comfort others. 

A weblog is so different. You lay yourself wide open and quite bare online…yet it is who I am…like the heroine of my book—Mary Magdalen—I unveil my heart and soul easily. I hope my musings serve you, my readers…for I do it in joy. 

Love and Light, 

Deborah