Thursday, July 6, 2017

Leo the Divine-Timing Bloomer

It took me some time to acclimate to this new life, having to share my private space with young people. The acclimation process is a waning and waxing one, maybe even in accordance with the moon's phases, or, hell, maybe opposing forces with the moon, for all I know.

I've always loved and adored and admired children, and I've always known my path was meant to be shared with them. I teetered between child psychology and elementary education and writing books for children, but I always knew I would work with children in some fashion.

As time tiptoed forward, I had found myself bathed in a selfish comfort, for my living space had always allowed me to have my own time and my own space to myself. Whenever and however I wanted it to be.  For the most part.

Not anymore. At least, not always. Now, I've got others depending on me. Young others. I've got a responsibility I thought I had escaped when we found out we weren't meant to have children of our own. News we took like champs; I moreso than he, striving to stay true to my mainstay mantras: Everything happens exactly as it should; There are no accidents. The tears he wept in that small dr.'s office waiting room after receiving such news, saying it was an atrocity that I would not be able to have my own children, that I deserved to have my own children. Without hesitation, I said I was just happy we both had our health, and that the rest is out of our hands.

And now. There are children in our home. Not ones we created, but ones we manifested all the same.

Children who test us and make us question our decisions from one moment to the next. Children who make us clench our teeth & fists a little less often than they make our hearts thumpety-thump with more love than we knew was possible.
There's something fresh about the added noise, the constant interruptions, and the lack of time and space for myself; something I actually sometimes find appreciation in, now. It took me some time, but I'm here.

It seems as though everything great in my life always takes time for me to realize its magnitude and magnificence.
Leo the Late Bloomer is me to a T, I acknowledge it all the time. It's a running joke between me and the Universe.


There's no such thing as late... another mainstay mantra of mine.

You bloom, I bloom, We bloom.

Divine timing.

All ways.


29 Again: Imminent Change

*note: this sat in here on this blogger page waiting to be published for a couple of years... I found it no accident that tonight was the night I re-discovered it and finally posted it.

The whole reason I ever started this blog was to document my soul growth and share my life story.

29--a number that once brought dread into my closed mind--morphed into a number that, to me, now more open-minded, has so much power. Creation... Destruction... Change. What a beautiful number.

Whenever 29 visits my life in rapid fashion, I know to brace myself, that huge change is imminent.

It's been happening again lately. It's all over. In my face. Waving an excited hand to gain my attention. With a big ole grin. Because ... well, because it's time.

Tonight was my turn to teach Kundalini yoga to the students in my class and receive feedback from them and my instructor. Today is the 29th. I did not purposely arrange this. All I did was be a wussy chicken and not sign up to teach and wait everyone out ;) . It just happened to be my turn because, well, it was the last slot before the rotation begins again. (*giggles) When I discovered my teaching date, I was grateful for the message that I am on the right path. Sometimes the Universe or God or whatever you decide to call it has to be pretty blunt with me. :)

It's the first week of school (I am teaching 2nd grade again this year) and that's always a hectic time, but I never batted an eye because I knew this was "my date". Kiddos are dropping like flies with some stomach virus, and this morning before school when I was hit with a wave of nausea (not to mention a touch of the Big D - oh wait, I just mentioned it), I drank a Sprite and said, "I can't miss class tonight because I'll look like a cop-out." I talked that virus right out of my system because 'ain't nobody got time for that!' See, Ego has its place. :)

Fast forward to the drive to the Fort Worth Wellness Center to teach. I got so nervous, I just started laughing at the thought that I would soon be sitting in front of a group of people guiding the amazing experience that is Kundalini Yoga. I kept the music off so I could gather my thoughts and center myself...connect. When my mind became still, "Just do what you do" came to me, and I laughed again at the fact that the song with that same name is one of my student's favorite songs right now (yes, I'm talking about the Katy Perry song). When I had the conversation with his mom about this, I was poking fun at the song. "I said I need some more good music suggestions!"

And when my husband called to wish me luck, just as I had parked my car, I admitted my nervousness. "Just do what you do," he chimed.  I paused in disbelief at the synchronicity. Gratefulness ran wild through my being. (For the message as well as for that amazing man being in my life.)

"Just do what I do, huh?"

And so I did.
I did what I do.
At least what I try to do on a constant basis.
Which is to trust that everything unfolds exactly as it should. And to allow whatever comes, to come and do its thing. To roll with it and open-up to the learning that lies therein.

In case you were wondering, it actually went quite well. :)

And although the first part of my drive back home was a quiet, reflective one, I was ready to get thoughts out of my head and let the music take over. Windows down, 87 degrees, and Milky Chance's Stolen Dance* was the first song to come on. Synchronicities abound.

Bring on some change; I'm ready. :)

*Like a lion, stalk the jungle that is my Facebook page if you wish to find evidence that that was the song which helped ease tension the night before the first day of school. :) It makes me happy. :)

There are no accidents.  :)

P.S. It is so amazing to find evidence of my intuitive experiences with numbers: