This is from an email written to my sister way back in 2004. I have edited it a little bit so that it can be shared on the internet, but I wanted to put it here because now that Saskia is no longer with us, I am trying to preserve what I can. Our relationship as mother and daughter was very challenging because from the very beginning she was difficult and headstrong, and so powerfully determined to do things the way she wanted to do them, and see things the way she wanted to see them.
Here’s the story:
Saskia and James moved the last of their stuff to their new house. Their truck broke down on the way over there. She called wanting me to pick her husband, his friend, and Teddy (the dog) up at Max’s Market and take them to Independence.
I told her to call a tow truck. So she did. And he took them all to Independence. And then I said something about her having to go to work tomorrow, and that it was a good thing that Independence had a bus service.
I was kind of being a bitch when I said this because when I was trying to talk her out of moving, I asked her what she would do if the truck broke down, and she informed me that Independence had city buses and taxi’s.
Either the seal on the transmission is blown, or one of the lines came off, or has a hole in it. She said that someone told her that it wouldn’t be real hard or real expensive to fix. transmission???? not hard?? not expensive????
I hope she’s right.
So… The disaster has begun. The drama is in progress.
I am not being good. I want to be good… but it just isn’t happening… I’m judging… I-told-her-so-ing… fussing… and in general not being good. I just want to shake her! and choke her! And change her into someone else for a while! So…
My internal work begins. (see this post)
And The Drama Continues
Hi. (This is the next email I sent to my sister.)
You know, I have a certain amount of ongoing worry and fear around Saskia and her firm insistence on making choices that put her and her family at risk. And I have a certain amount of worry and fear about credit cards and bills I can’t pay, and the fact that my job continues to sort of sputter along. I have a lot of frustration about my inability to find the energy and the drive to get the things done that I want to do around here to make this place nice. And so far, other than that exceptional time my granddaughter was born, I haven’t had the big stuff that you have with your son.
The big stuff really puts into perspective what is important, and it doesn’t just challenge you to align with spirit, it forces you. Because if you don’t… Well, I don’t know what happens… probably Saskia knows…
Anyway. I don’t even know what to say about your son. I’m really glad that you are feeling calm about it, because I’d be a screaming raging bitch inside. If I can get myself centered and quiet today, I’ll do some shamanic work and see what happens with that. See what I can see, do what I can do.
Last night Saskia called. The transmission on the truck is shot. A rebuilt one costs $1200, the junked ones at U Wrench It are probably junk and you have to pull them yourself. They have no money. They spent it all on the tow truck. The bus stop is too far away to walk to. It costs $20 to take a taxi to work and they have no money. They don’t have a phone yet. One of Saskia’s coworkers picked her up yesterday and took her to work, and that car broke down on the way.
I did not say “I told you so.” I was in the middle of saying something to the effect of “What are you going to do?” and the cell phone she was borrowing went dead.
Then later, James brother called to say that his dad collapsed at the doctors office and is in the hospital. I gave him the phone number of Saskia’s friend in Independence. I hope they have food for Sydney. I was worrying and worrying and worrying about them – because I love them – and my heart just went out to her. Once again in a desperate situation. And then, because there really isn’t anything I can do, I prayed, and talked to my guides and angels.
And then I did something really comforting. I gave them to Jesus. (he is one of my guides – believe it or not). So I gave them, and my worry about them to Jesus, and went peacefully to sleep. Today, although I am thinking about them, I am no longer having that stressed agitated worry feeling. Actually more of a curiosity, and feeling of compassion than anything else.
So. Actually I might try the breathing thing with my issues.
- Breathe in bills and money problems ~ breathe out prosperity and abundance.
- Breathe in fatigue ~ breathe out energy.
- Breathe in clutter ~ breathe out order.
- Breathe in decay ~ breathe out beauty and new growth.
I wonder if I’ll do it really. I have been so spiritually and physically indolent, lazy, immobilized, stuck, blocked… There is something (invisible to me) that stands in my way. I should do a journey and take a look at it. Notice the use of the word should.
I have been rooting around in some very old emails, and found this mantra that I made up for myself back in 2004. I like it, and thought I’d share it here:
My internal work begins.
There is no better.
It is what it is.
It doesn’t matter what happens…
It doesn’t matter what happens…
It doesn’t matter what happens…
All is well.
All is well.
All is well.
All is well.
All is well.
All is well.
If I say it often enough I will begin to believe it.
Have you heard about the two duck hunters from Wisconsin? This is absolutely a true story heard on a Wisconsin radio station reporting on the incident.
A guy buys a new Lincoln Navigator for $42,500.00 (with monthly payments of $560.00).
He and a friend go duck hunting in mid-winter; and of course all of the lakes are frozen. These two guys go on a lake with their GUNS, a DOG, and of course the new NAVIGATOR.
They decide they want to make a natural looking water area for the ducks,something for the decoys to float on. Now making a hole in the ice large enough to invite a passing duck is going to take a little more power than the average drill auger can produce.
So, out of the back of the new Navigator comes a stick of dynamite with a short 40 second-fuse. Now our two Rocket Scientists, afraid they might slip on the ice while trying to run away after lighting the fuse (and becoming toast, along with the Navigator), decide on the following course of action: they light the 40 second fuse; then, with a mighty thrust, they throw the stick of dynamite as far way as possible.
Remember a couple of paragraphs back when I mentioned the NAVIGATOR, the GUNS, and the DOG…??? Let’s talk about the dog: A highly trained Black Lab used for RETRIEVING. Especially things thrown by the owner. You guessed it: the dog takes off across the ice at a high rate of speed and grabs the stick of dynamite, with the burning 40-second fuse, just as it hits the ice.
The two men swallow, blink, start waving their arms and, with veins in their necks swelling to resemble stalks of rhubarb, scream and holler at the dog to stop. The dog, now apparently cheered on by his master, keeps coming.
One hunter panics, grabs the shotgun and shoots the dog. The shotgun is loaded with #8 bird shot, hardly big enough to stop a Black Lab. The dog stops for a moment, slightly confused then continues on. Another shot, and this time the dog, still standing, becomes really confused and of course terrified, thinks these two geniuses have gone insane. The dog takes off to find cover, under the brand new Navigator.
The men continue to scream as they run. The red hot exhaust pipe on the truck touches the dogs rear end, he yelps, drop the dynamite under the truck and takes off after his master.
Then BOOOOOOOOOOOOM !!!! The truck is blown to bits and sinks to the bottom of the lake, leaving the two idiots standing there with “I can’t believe this just happened” looks on their faces.
The insurance company says that sinking a vehicle in a lake by illegal use of explosives is NOT COVERED by the policy. And he still had yet to make the first of those $560.00 a month payments… The dog is okay…
Source: Newspaper item from Wisconsin
“Hello, is this here the Sheriff’s Office?”
“Yes. What can I do for you?”
“I’m callin’ to report my neighbor, Virgil Smith. He’s drillin’ holes in his farwood and hidin’ marijuana inside!”
“Thank you very much for the call, sir.”
The next day, the Sheriff & his deputies descend on Virgil’s house.
They search the shed where the firewood is kept. Using axes, they split every piece of wood, but find no marijuana. They sneer at Virgil and leave.
The phone rings at Virgil’s house. “Hey, Virgil! This here’s Floyd. Did the Sheriff come?”
“Yeah!”
“Did they split yer farwood?”
“Yep!”
“Happy Birthday, buddy!”
(Who says we rednecks aren’t too bright?!)
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Christmas
I think it's time to go shopping... maybe even buy some really cool stuff at my online shops!!
