Monday, June 22, 2009

Motherly Message concerning Massage and Benefits of Mothers Milk

The more I get ... the more I give! Must be the sane and safest reason for paying a healer of the highest degree, this most recent and magical evening. One hour past closing, I gleefully entered forth ...  after biking into an endless sunset, enjoying a power workout at the gym, and spending appreciated gifts from the universe on another late night produce purchase. Before my sweetest Son-Always-Rising, informed of the full moon arriving, and being given the pleasure of meeting the furry Bijou, whom I was told, "never bites,"  although this wee, gentle creature takes  a mere 3 hours to clip and groom. Must be my turn to roll over, 'play dead', and gladly pay to be pleasantly pampered ... 

Tom ( his new Canadian name ) was called in, after I let the sweet Asian girl ( she healed her dog's broken leg with her own herbal remedy ) at the door of New Feet know, " I have cash" and " I leave a good tip". Some of us just have that magic touch ( holy Goddess - the old song playing on the radio just sang the same words ). Gratefully, so did my 4 year TCM Doctor  of acupressure! One heavenly and most painful session, sure to heal the most touch deprived and yearning soul, this side of a new and sumptuous sunrise; sure to shine a world of loving light upon blessed me.

Pure and pricey Waleda rose oil in hand, naked in my glory, I lay my tired head upon the white toweled table. Requesting piped-in traditional Chinese music to lull me, I surrendered to warm hands and wisely let go of anything other than Love. Audibly moaning over the "good pain," as a couple of dozen pressure points were firmly pressed and release and relaxation was painfully arrived at. Finally, it was being shown that the heavy wall of knots in my neck and head, is actually my holographic "heart," that caused me to afterwards cry. Tears spilling forth over a powerful image of my beloved Mommy, whom I dearly miss. Over-riding pain ... Thank you. I am still alive !!!

P.S.

Wait until you watch this darling video of Kaelin  and I. Oh, and be sure and sip some warm Mommy's milk before bed ... Sleep tight. I AM!!!

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Joyous June






Joyous June

 

Smelling the unforgettable fragrance of home - grown pink roses. Photographing friendly flowers swaying in the early summer breeze. Documenting one more memorable walk along the railway ties with my sweet son. Deeply immersed in the study of natural wonders Mother brings forth to so generously share. Marveling at the gentle beauty surrounding blessed me. Transported to that most magical place within …

 

Early evening filled with promise and delicious delight. Sun setting before warmth of West Coast night. Pubescent child dancing in the loving light. All that lives is this marvelous moment gifted to only us. Two breath’s of fresh air touching all whom we meet. Within our hopeful hearts to happily keep. Joy jumping from every pure and precious pore. Feels so good and right. May we gratefully ask for an never-ending mystery of more …?

 

Lingering In Love,

 

Katherine Marion

Friday, June 12, 2009

Feeling The Warmth

Feeling good is all that really matters. We are most productive as a people, nation and planet, when we do what makes us happy. Not because we are supposed to. Not because we were told so. Not because we are afraid if we don't ... So simple to act according to our highest self when we listen to the wee voice inside that points us in the most divine direction. Upwards and across ...Listening to the incomparable Joni Mitchell sing: " Both Sides Now", simply affirms that all I have to do is allow myself to sing with the song of life. Dance i
n the light. Flow. And, glow ... like the beacon of beauty that I was put on this earth to be. Shine. Shimmer. And, sometimes shake with a joy that surely does reverberate. Doing what makes me happy - NOW. Why wait?

We spend too much precious time thinking. Moving forward isn't about waiting for the perfect moment to pounce, fall or drift. Getting out of our unhappy head. Stop the hiding. Dry the tears. Put away those old fears. Allow the past to simply lay still. Movement. Momentum. Magic. Feel our bodies. Trust ourselves. Open our hearts. Remember the truth.

Children need no push or shove. Flowers need no pressure to grow. Wind needs no hand to reign. Sun shines on her own accord. Water flows in every direction. Air breathes its own unique breath. Earth bends for no one, for too long. Nature knows no boundaries, barriers, or borders. We must do the same. The only sane game is the one we choose to play.

Pussy cat's awaken to lick themselves and stretch in the morning sun. Lolling about and foraging for a meal. Or, maybe not. Luxuriating in the warmth of a new and splendid day. Rain or shine, feeling as fine as they are able. No candles lit. No fancy table set. No remorse. No regret. Relishing what is. Licking up the cream. And, continuing to dream ....

A baby suffers no guilt for needing to be held. We need to hear our own needs rising above those of others. Going for what we truly desire. Stop the resistance. Accept love, nurturing, and human kindness. Accept a compliment. Allow a gift given. Give more than yourself by being your best you. Not much else to do. Simply, sweetly, and so deliciously ...  JUST BE!


P.S.

Considering how I literally fought the impulse to write my innermost thoughts and feelings, for hours, I am so grateful I allowed these precious gems ... to finally burst forth to the sparkling surface. Enjoy.

I am!

P.P.S.

Please be aware that I am charging $2.00 per pure and thought-provoking minute for my conscious consultations: via phone, online or up close and passionately in person.

Greatness.kat@gmail.com - paypal account for a healthy, healing, happy exchange of energies. Thanks for the contribution.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

My Testament To Love






This Saturday, upon arising, , my 13 year old son headed right to the living room window and captured an image. Quickly, Kaelin came into the bedroom to show me the results ... Not a flower. Nor the shining sun. Nary a bird. Or, a laughing child. Instead, all I had to woefully look upon was the unsmiling face of an aging, overweight male. "This is the guy I've been  telling you about. The one who's been following me and came in our side-door, twice," calmly explained my child. "Look, he has a tattoo!", one aspiring photographer excitedly exclaimed. I felt like I'd been placed in some spy thriller. A bright, new day beginning. And, here I was once, again ... privy to the gross imperfection that surrounds all things and people,  truly precious. A wondrous world that I intend to keep as innocent as any magical Mother, owning her power, forever may. 

After Kaelin began putting a real-life story to his unhappy picture (www.happyhomelearner.blogspot.com ) we went for a walk in our pretty neighborhood. Stopping ever minute or so to treasure one more moment, with the quiet click of a shutter. Obligingly, my young teen slowed down to really smell the flowers. We shared life and it's many splendoured joys. I played impassioned witness as a young man swung on the midget monkey bars, sat on the shrinking  swings, tossed a giant  basketball, played with his pubescent pals at the playground, and enjoyed a forbidden solo pee in the schoolyard corner. I  honored the crossing of one more blessed  milestone into budding manhood. Motherhood offers many gifts. 

Opening up old and tired eyes that have been shut closed for far too long, we are finally able to tenderly touch upon life's eternal bliss. Children bring truth closer to home. Awakening to the reassuring light that envelopes, fills, and continually comes through us; we are kept safer and protected from merely silent shadows that can never overpower. For every ripening sunrise, there is a closing curtain.  For every ray of hope, there is a shade of darkness setting forth. Reaching higher. Digging deeper. Looking within. Beauty lives forever. For we are the conscious creator of our own new reality. 

Now, make it a Supernatural One!

I AM.


With Wisdom Of  Wonder, 

Katherine Marion