I Felt Myself Slipping Into the Abyss and Went in Search of Magic

My newsfeed was full of dark and scary things when I turned on my cellphone this morning and I felt myself slipping into the abyss. I knew I needed to get myself up to Bellingham for a therapy session with sunshine and fresh air and smiling people and pups.

As I was walking down the boardwalk towards Boulevard Park, a man on a bicycle approached from the opposite direction. As he went passed he smiled and pointed back the direction he’d come. “Two eagles in the second tree!” he said.

I knew exactly the tree he was talking about and thought maybe if I climbed up to the top of the knoll I’d be closer to the eagles. But when I got up there, I realized the eagles were on the other side of the tree, and I’d actually have a better view of them from down below.

When I got back down on the trail I could see the pair of eagles right above me. I pointed them out to a young woman named Lisa who stopped to enjoy them with me for a bit. Then three women – maybe of three different generations? – stopped to watch the eagles with me. I told them that I’d often seen one eagle up there, but I hadn’t seen two in the tree before. The younger woman said something to the other women and I recognized the Spanish word for “two” – “dos.” I nodded and smiled, “Yes! Dos!” And they all grinned with me. I thanked them for sharing that moment with me. They nodded and smiled. New friends!

When I got down to Boulevard Park, I went into the coffee shop to get an iced coffee. A woman in a pretty dress walked into the coffee shop. Her dress was cheery and colorful and it made me smile. I told the woman I loved what she was wearing and she smiled and thanked me. Then I took my iced coffee out to a picnic table to watch passersby and the boats on the bay.

Pretty soon a fluffy puppy walked by with his humans – a father and a young son. I asked Mario if I could meet his puppy and take a picture and he smiled and said sure. Little Yoshi is a Burmese Mountain dog, and he’s going to get much bigger before he’s done growing. He’s wonderfully photogenic – seemed to know exactly how to pose for me – and Mario told me that Yoshi has his own instagram account with thousands of followers. I am not surprised by this.

A woman stopped at my picnic table with her friend to ask me if I was Karen from Facebook. And this is how I came to at last meet my Facebook friend LaVonne in the person. LaVonne and I travel in a lot of the same FB circles – birding groups and The Seeing Bellingham group. It was very cool that she recognized me. LaVonne and her friend, Gina, sat and chatted with me for a while about birds and sign language (Gina is an expert in this) and the beauty of the day and Gina’s amazing purple hair.

From the picnic table, I could see the pair of eagles still sitting in their tree. It occurred to me that if I went back to my car by way of the road to Boulevard Park, I might actually get a great view of the eagles. So that’s what I did. By using the road, I was able to get pretty close to the raptors. It was cool.

Just as I was getting back to my car, I saw the woman in the pretty dress again – this time with her husband and a pup. I learned her name is Stephanie, and her husband’s name is Nick, and I learned their pup is named Zena. They all (including the pup) graciously agreed to pose for me.

This morning I went in search of magic – and I found it!

A Happy Ending for a Neurotic Karen

I’m one of those people who lies awake at night worrying about stuff I said the day before. I worry about hurting people’s feelings unintentionally; I worry about people thinking I was serious when i was just having fun; I worry about accidentally offending people.

Last night I worried about something I’d said in fun to a bank teller earlier in the day. I’d been standing in line for ten or 15 minutes while the tellers worked with two other individuals ahead of me who had complicated transactions. I was the only one in line for most of that time. Then a woman with a crutch came in and stood behind me and let me know that she was there because it appeared someone had gained access to her account. This was serious. So when a teller opened up another line – one with a chair for someone to sit down on – I told the woman behind me to go ahead – her business was more serious than mine. She thanked me and took the seat in front of the teller.

I waited. I waited some more. A couple more people came in behind me. And now both the other tellers finished their business with the previous customers. I was excited. I was almost there!

Then one of the tellers grabbed her purse and left (I didn’t blame her – she probably was finally going to get lunch). So now I waited for the other teller to signal me. And I waited. And finally I said, laughing, “Is it just me? That other teller took one look at me and said, ‘I’m out of here!'” The teller smiled and said she was just clearing a space for me and I could come up now.

She was very gracious. I learned that the man ahead of me had brought in 7,000 pennies to be turned into $70 cash and that it had taken some time to sort all that out. I was impressed by the teller’s patience and composure. My transaction went quickly and I left.

But as I was driving home I started worrying. Had the teller realized I’d just been having fun when I asked, “Is it just me?” Had I come across as – oh, the horror! – a “Karen”?

I worried. I worried some more. I worried much longer than I’d waited in that line at the bank.

I had a break from my worrying when Clara Kitty nestled in beside me for some cuddles. I realized that if I was spending time worrying I wouldn’t be focused on the love I could give right then to Clara. So I scratched her behind the ears and she licked my hand and for a little while I just stayed in the moment.

But when I went to bed I started worrying again.

This morning I decided to bring a home-made card to the teller, telling her how much I appreciated her kindness and patience yesterday. I wasn’t sure how this was going to work, exactly. I wasn’t sure if she’d even be at the bank, and, if she was at the bank, I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage to get to her counter. But I trusted that Love would sort all that out for me.

When I got to the bank I saw she was there! And the woman ahead of me in line appeared to be waiting for the OTHER teller because she stepped aside and waved me forward when the teller I wanted to see became available. How cool was that?!

I asked the teller her name – she said “Natasha” – and I told her I’d been impressed by how patient she was yesterday and how gracious, and I wanted to give her this card to thank her. I told her I hoped she knew I was having fun yesterday – I was worried that she’d thought I was serious. She started laughing and said she totally knew I was joking and she’d been grateful that I’d had a sense of humor about it all and wasn’t cranky like another customer might have been.

I felt a huge weight of worry lift from me! She had a sense of humor!!

I left the bank feeling like I was floating on Love. Empowered by Love. Powered by Love. I felt fearless and safe and impervious to bad stuff. I felt Love with me.

Beautiful Humans in the Tulip Fields

It’s only 2:00 pm and I’ve already had, like, a month’s worth of tears, beauty, and magic in this one day.

I woke up at 6:00 and immediately felt impelled to leave the house and explore and connect. It felt imperative. I can’t explain that for anyone who’s never felt it – but I figure some of you will understand.

I ended up in downtown Mount Vernon. It was probably only 7:30 or so at this point, and the streets were empty and the shops closed. I wandered down the length of First Street until I found myself at the Co-op. It was open. I bought myself a mocha and a blueberry strudel and took them upstairs to a table to sit and think. I sat facing the painting of my old friend, John “Peace Wizard” Bromet, who died in 2023. And I started sobbing. Not so’s anyone could hear me or anything. But my face scrunched up and the tears rolled down my cheeks. I can’t tell you what I was feeling right then – I’m not even sure myself. I think I was feeling a sense of loss, but… I think John’s portrait also sort of bolstered me. It was like I could feel him there with me, smiling and encouraging me.

I finished my strudel and started the trek back to my car, with the vague notion that I should head for the tulip fields.

I ended up at Tulip Time. I was one of the first ones to drive through the gates this morning.

The tulip fields were beautiful, of course – I think I’ll make another post just with tulip pictures – but the people I met this morning at Tulip Town were even more beautiful than the flowers.

In all the years I’ve lived in the Skagit Valley and have visited Tulip Town, I’d never before ridden in the Tulip Town trolley. But today I did! Mike drove us around the perimeter of the field and, sitting up high in the trolley, I had a vantage point I’d never had of the fields before. I waved to the other tulip tourists from the trolley, like I was on a parade float or something. And they waved back! It was cool.

As I was circling the field, I came upon a father trying to take a photo of his large family. I thought maybe he had a timer so he could include himself in the photo, but then I realized he didn’t – so I asked if I could take a photo of all of them. He agreed and handed me his camera. I learned that he and his wife and son were from Sammamish, and the rest of his family was visiting from India. One of the women had wrapped her whole head up in a scarf so only her eyes peeked out – and I learned that she’d just arrived from India yesterday where it was more than 100 degrees Fahrenheit. She was, understandably, cold. But she was also laughing at herself for being all wrapped up in her scarf. This family was fun. I welcomed the visitors from India to the States, and apologized for the cold. They all graciously posed for me in the tulips so that I could take a photo for myself of my new friends.

Just past the family from Sammamish and India, I saw a sweet pup smiling at me. Hallie’s human gave me permission to take her photo.

On the other side of the field I came upon a young man donned in a graduation hat and robe. HIs mom was with him to take a photo of him for his senior picture. Kaden was graduating from Bremerton High School, and he explained that what had brought him to the Skagit Valley for his senior picture were the tulip fields. He came from a military family, he said, and had lived all around the world – and he remembered the tulip fields that had been near Amsterdam when his father had been stationed there. I asked Kaden if I could take a photo of him, too, and he gave me the okay.

I went inside the Tulip Town gift shop, and browsed for a bit. I saw a woman trying to take a selfie in front of a display of red tulips, and asked her if I could take her picture for her. She nodded her head and handed me her cellphone and I snapped a picture, and then she put her arm around my shoulders and pulled me in for a photo of the two of us! That was pretty fun. I asked her if I could take a photo of the two of us with my camera and she nodded her head. When I asked her name, she used her cellphone to translate her words and explained that she didn’t speak English well – she was originally from China – and her name was Kelly.

And see? That’s what’s so cool about our tulip fields – we don’t have to travel around the world to meet people from different nations and cultures – people from different nations and cultures come here! Today I met a young man who wanted to be near tulip fields because he’d once lived in Amsterdam; I met a family visiting from India; and I met a woman who’d originally come from China.

I understand now why I’d felt impelled to leave my house this morning. Look at all the magic that was waiting for me “out there”!

Below: John “Peace Wizard” Bromet; Viral and his family; Kelly and me; Kaden in his graduation robe; sweet Hallie pup.

I Came Back Restored

My trip to visit my son, his wife, and my granddaughter only lasted three days, but I was living in a whole ‘nother world inside of those three days. I came back restored.

Because I wanted to travel light and didn’t want to have to worry about carry-on baggage or trying to get all my electronics out of my backpack when I went through security, I didn’t bring my laptop or ebook. I didn’t listen to news, didn’t watch television, and, other than posting some quick pics from my cellphone, I pretty much stayed off of social media.

It was AWESOME!

The son and his family live in Venice, California, and we took long walks together over the canals and down to the beach, past vibrant murals and artsy boutiques. My granddaughter, little Linh, pointed out a white egret stepping along the edge of the canal and we enjoyed watching him as he foraged for lunch. And then Rigby the pup came up to us with a big smile and a wagging tail for a pet on the head.

We walked to the Erewhon Market and were greeted with a friendly smile at the door by Russ, who told me that the market has a lot of people named Russ there. “It’s like a Russ magnet,” I said. And he laughed and agreed.

On my last morning in Venice, Christina and Linh brought me with them to the Linnie Canal Park for a music program for toddlers. The four young women who led the program sang with the children, brought out instruments for them to play, and led them in fun dances. Music and dance and toddlers laughing together! That, my friends, is healing.

My son drove me to the airport, parked, and walked me in. I saw a couple of security guards standing at the bottom of an escalator and asked them where I needed to go. They smiled at me, and one of them asked me if I had any baggage to check (nope!) and asked to see my boarding pass on my phone. Then he told me I could just go right up the escalator, turn right, and get in the general security check line. I told him I knew there’d be people to help me at the airport, and thanked him. I asked him his name and he said “Alex” and then he asked me my name and I said, “Karen, of course.” He started laughing, and wished me a good flight.

My son and I hugged good bye at the bottom of the escalator and I made my way to the security line. I watched to see what the people ahead of me were doing as they got to the security conveyer belt. I took two bins and, trying to look like a I fly on planes every week, sorted my backpack and purse and jacket in the bins. I turned to the man behind me and asked, “Do I look like I know what I’m doing?” and he grinned and said I did. “I’m just copying all the people in front of me,” I confessed, and he laughed and said that’s what we ALL were doing.

When I got up to the security lady – a woman of about my age who’d been using a curt voice with the people in front of me – I pointed to my bins and asked her, “How’d I do?” She put her curt voice aside and smiled and told me it looked like I’d done a good job.

I was feeling hungry and went in search of food. I stopped at the Wahoo’s to order a quesadilla. The woman in front of me in line must have thought she was taking longer than she should because she turned around and apologized. Including the cashier, I said, “No! You’re both doing a great job!” And they smiled at me.

I ordered my quesadilla and waited near the pick-up counter. The cashier called out the number of the woman who’d been ahead of me, but I could tell she hadn’t heard it, so I yelled, “Forty-seven!” – which she heard. The cashier thanked me for yelling out her number, and I grinned and told him I was using my teacher voice.

When I boarded the plane I found there was an empty seat between my window seat and the man sitting in the aisle seat. I asked him, hopefully, if the middle seat had been empty when he’d reserved his seat, and he made a sad face and said no. “Dang,” I said, “Well, maybe it will end up being someone really lovely.”

Our seat partner soon joined us, and we all settled in for our flight. As our plane rolled down the runway, I could see a beautiful sunset blossoming on the horizon. I tried to take a picture, but then our plane turned and… I looked at the young man sitting in the middle seat and said, “The sunset’s amazing, but…”

He smiled in understanding, and finished my sentence for me, “It’s on the wrong side of the plane.”

Soon Eelco and I had introduced ourselves to each other and were in conversation. I learned he’s Dutch – so I, of course, told him my dad’s family had come from de Nederlands, and told him my maiden name was “Molenaar” – which he recognized as totally Dutch. We talked about skiing – he was going to visit a Dutch cousin in Montana to go skiing – and I told him my dad had been, among other things, a ski instructor. Then we talked about traveling – because if you’re a Dutch downhill skier you’re going to need to leave your country to do that. And we talked about languages, jobs, education, family (ahem, I might have mentioned Dad is in Wikipedia for mountaineering), traveling, adventures. I learned he was the same age as my son and we talked about how different the world was when I was born compared to when he and my son were born.

I dozed off for a bit then, and woke to find we were close to landing.

This is when the man on the other side of Eelco told him that I’d been hoping the middle seat would be open. “But,” I added, “I did say that maybe we’d get a lovely person in the middle.” And Brett, the man in the aisle seat, nodded in agreement that I had indeed said that. Now Eelco and Brett got in conversation and learned that they’d both been vendors at the Natural Products Expo West this week! Brett had been there to vend the cardboard containers his company sells; and Eelco had been there to show the glass containers his company sells. They might have even passed each other while they were there!

It is a small world, my friends.

My husband had parked the car and was waiting for me in the baggage claim area. It was so good to see him again! I had all kinds of stories I wanted to share with him about our grandbaby’s hugs, and the people I met on my trip, and the things I saw.

We live in a beautiful world full of new friends just waiting to be met, of laughing toddlers, and people who want to help us on our journeys.

I’m going to hang on to that as I move into the future.

Cosmic Community: Celebrating Kindness

I have a new book “out there.” It’s the third book in the Cosmic Celebrations series – Cosmic Community: Celebrating Kindness.

I apologize that it’s only available on Amazon right now (and please do not order it on February 28th).

Here’s the opening to Cosmic Community:

December 6, 2023

This morning I felt impelled to get out of the house and go for a drive. I ended up at the mall in Bellingham with the vague idea that I might go Christmas shopping.

As I headed into Macy’s a young woman approached me – she looked scared. She said her baby was locked in the car with her keys and she asked me if I could let security know. I went into Macy’s and let the customer service people know the situation.

They needed to know the model of the car and where it was parked, so I went back out and asked the young mother if I could watch her car and baby while she went inside to talk to the customer service people. She thanked me and I took up my post by her car.

When I looked in the window I saw her baby was crying – so I said, “Hi Sweetie! I’m right here with you!” and she started giggling then and smiling at me. There was a little toy suction cupped to the window and the baby reached up and started playing with the toy – like she was playing with me – and we spent the next minute or so laughing at her toy together.

The baby’s mom came out then, and pretty soon folks in uniforms joined her at her car to help her.

And the thought occurred to me that maybe that was the whole reason I’d felt like I’d needed to drive and ended up at the mall – I hardly ever go there, and it was weird for me to decide to go there today.

I bought a red vest and a new pair of jeans and then started my drive home.

And the clouds and the rain and the gray evening light enveloped me in a peaceful bubble. I’d put in a CD of hymns sung by a pair of young brothers with a youthful energy, and as I listened to the hymns I thought of my mom and remembered all the times she’d sung those hymns to me. I could feel her love with me.

As I drove through the Chuckanut Hills, I thought of the hikes I’d taken with Dad and felt his love, too. And then I remembered driving this same route when I was bringing the sons home from swimming lessons when they were preschoolers, and I could almost hear them laughing with each other in the back seat. It seemed a lifetime ago, and just like yesterday.

The young men on the CD sang, “He leadeth me, O blessed thought! O words with heav’nly comfort fraught…” (words by Joseph H. Gilmore). And suddenly I felt myself connected to all the other people in the cars moving with me on I-5. And for a moment our kinship with each other was so clear to me. I felt us all moving together in a cosmic murmuration. Normally I try to exit onto the backroads, but I found myself passing the exit I might normally have taken and I realized I WANTED to be with the other folks on I-5.

My drive home was other-worldly and beautiful.

The Gift of Being Trusted

It was a busy intersection in bustling mid-day traffic and I’d just pulled up to a right-turn yield sign, ready to slide myself into traffic when there was a break in the flow. I glanced to the right and saw a young Black man with a shopping cart full of belongings, waiting to cross to the island on the other side of me. He saw me look at him – I think I smiled – and he pointed to the island – he was asking if he could go ahead and cross in front of me. I smiled and pointed to the island, too, and raised my eyebrows and nodded my head – indicating that he was good to go. He nodded his head at me and crossed in front of me – trusting me – and we gave each other a “have a good day” wave.

And I know this seems like just a litte thing, but I can’t tell you what it meant to me that this young man trusted his life to me as he crossed in front of my car.

That’s how communities function, isn’t it? We’re all trusting each other with our very lives – every day of every month of every year that we’re out there, moving amongst each other.

Neighborliness

Being neighborly…neighborliness 2

“Wouldn’t the world be happier, friends, if in our dealings with one another we could always truthfully say that whatever we thought or said or did expressed the nature of God as divine Love? …This may sound like an impossible goal. But it really isn’t. When we understand how to listen for divine Love’s guidance, there’s no need to be thrown off base by what our neighbor does or doesn’t do. Of course we’re all familiar with the temptations that would upset good relations… a dog or too loud radio keeps someone awake half the night; someone decides a neighbor isn’t good enough, has the wrong kind of name, or perhaps one envies the good thing his neighbor has…But whatever the temptation, we can refuse to be impulsive or spiteful, self-righteous or jealous. Through the understanding of divine Love each of us can learn to be a good neighbor. And a good neighbor doesn’t gossip, criticize, or even wish that he or the folks next door could move away. “
– The Christian Science Sentinel,
December 4, 1954

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it means to be a good neighbor. So when I stumbled, all unexpectedly, on the article “The Remedy for Neighborhood Tensions” from an old 1954 Christian Science Sentinel, I felt the train of my thoughts come skidding to a halt as I stopped to ponder the ideas the article had to offer me.

As I’ve reflected on “neighborliness” I’ve come to understand that being a good neighbor doesn’t mean we have to “take sides” in neighborhood disputes. I don’t have to hate one neighbor to show love to another. I don’t have to criticize one neighbor, to show friendship to another. I don’t have to gossip about one neighbor, to show support for another. I don’t have to get angry or fired up or militant to take a firm stand for what is right and decent.

Being a good neighbor comes down to this one thing: I simply need to love – without exclusion or discrimination or judgment or condemnation.  That’s my whole job, right there. To love.  I need to see my neighbor as God sees my neighbor – as God’s dear child – beautiful and good and whole and happy.  If I can see my neighbor through the eyes of God, Love, then I won’t be threatened or annoyed or irritated or frightened by him – I’ll enter into dialogue with him expecting to find solutions to conflict, and answers to problems. 

Jesus told us to love our neighbor as we love ourselves.  I’m thinking that means that what we want for ourselves, we should want for our neighbors, too. If I want to be trusted, then I need to be willing to trust. If I want to be treated with consideration, than I need to be considerate.  If I want to be shown kindness, then I need to show kindness. 

…And Love is reflected in love.
– Mary Baker Eddy

Cosmic Co-op

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.  – H. Jackson Browne, Jr.

For three years I’ve had a view of the Mount Vernon Co-op from my office window. Every now and then I’d gaze out the window and across the freeway at the friendly-looking brick building – watch the customers going in and out of it – and wonder how long it might take me to “get there from here.”  I’d always thought it would be too long – that I wouldn’t be able to get there and back before a student showed up for a session with me at the alternative high school where I work.

But last week I went for it. A couple of students had shown up early for their appointments with me and I found myself with an hour in the middle of the day to do some adventuring. So I donned my backpack and headed down the hill and over the overpass on a reconnaissance. When I got to the bottom of the hill I turned around and headed back to the school, and when I got to my office I realized that it had only taken 10 minutes to get to the bottom of the hill and back!

The next day – knowing now that it didn’t take that long to get to the bottom of the hill and back – I ventured a little further. This time I actually went into the Co-op. I ordered a peach smoothy and brought it back to my office with me. The clock showed that I had only been gone from my desk for 20 minutes!

Since that day I have managed to find time every day to hike down to the Co-op for my peach smoothy, a little exercise, some fresh air, and a quick hobnob with the co-op community..Yesterday I ran into a former teaching colleague and a woman who lived down the street from us 30 years ago – that was way fun. And today I ran into a former student from ten years ago who’d just returned from a trip to Thailand. And this was kind of cool – as I was walking down the hill to go to the co-op this morning, I saw a man approaching me carrying a sign that said “Peace” on it. As we got 30 or 40 yards from each other we both smiled simultaneously at each other, and I held up my fingers in the “peace sign.” He returned the “peace sign” to me, and then veered off the sidewalk to go to the co-op – me following behind him.

I am really enjoying my daily Co-op break.

I wonder who I’ll run into next time?