To Sing with the Ravens….

“Forget about trying to compete with someone else. Create your own pathway. Create your own new vision.”
~ Herbie Hancock

As those of you who follow my Facebook page(s) may already know, I am beginning a new adventure in the mountains of northern New Mexico, where I’ve decided to stay for a while to sing with the ravens and dance with the coyotes. How long? Who knows? Maybe a month, maybe a year, maybe a lifetime. I’ve lived alone for most of the last 30 years and have always had a good sense of self, but these last three on the road solidified my determination for self-knowledge and thirst for continued discovery. I’d been aware of this resolve intrinsically for quite some time, but as I’d received dozens of invitations and agreed to do another Ride, I felt obligated to follow through. As time went on, however, I came to realize that this part of my long (so far, 3 years) trek is over – and I am to enjoy a new kind of journey … exploring where it will take me emotionally, physically, spiritually.

I truly believe that our Lives have many paths and trails, many roads and voyages we endeavour upon until our last heartbeat – and that final passage to whatever lies ahead. For most of us, our purpose changes over the course of time. No one part – or a previous direction – is “wrong”, but rather it is simply that we have an infinite number of gateways in our journey … and we enter these at different times of our lives. Some do have a singular path, an exclusive and unique purpose they are born into … no doubt true for many artists, scientists, priests and monks … but for me, I find the continual evolution both exciting and liberating. I have many passions and objectives that I’m looking forward to enjoying and fulfilling in the years ahead.

So, “here’s to” a new day and a new journey. Thank you all, once again, for having come along with me on the most amazing and wonderful “Ride” I could have ever imagined.  Be well, be happy, and as always … I’ll see you somewhere down the road.

With love,
Ravensong ❤

Scenes Along the Way…

if you move carefully
through the forest,
like the ones
in the old stories,
who could cross
a shimmering bed of leaves
without a sound,
you come
to a place
whose only task
is to trouble you
with tiny
but frightening requests,
conceived out of nowhere
but in this place
beginning to lead everywhere.

~ excerpted from “Sometimes” by David Whyte

As I pack up and prepare for a new kind of journey, I thought it fun to re-post a short video I put together of some scenes from early on in the Ride. I cannot share it directly to this blog (unless I upgrade), so you will have to check it out via a YouTube link. It truly was such a delight to have been a part of these moments and lives, now almost three years ago … and I look forward to more adventures yet along this long road of Life. I hope you enjoy……

Video link: The Ride, Pt. I

All My Worldly Goods…

“Someone asked me yesterday, What was the happiest time of your life?
I said, What? The happiest time?
Why do you tie ‘time’ with ‘happiness’?
I am happiness.”
~ Sri Sri Ravi Shankar

Just three more days to go, before a new journey begins as my horseless wagon and I hit the road westward to try out my wings in the mountains of northern New Mexico. Time for the final organizing and making-sure-it-all-fits before I start loading; a last load of laundry, a washing and waxing of Miss Gracie, and goodbye lunches and dinners with friends. All my worldly goods – all I own – now lie within those silver lines (and just 28″ high) on the floor of my spare room. You know, the truth-of-the-matter is we don’t need nearly as much as we think we do to be deeply and genuinely happy. No, not even close.

A Velveteen Goodbye…

“… all the knowledge gathered from your past has finally enabled you to arrive here with everything you need to begin the great work, no matter how old you are. It will take a long time;
it might take the rest of your life.”
~ Jonathan Carroll

Yesterday, Miss Gracie received another clean bill of health from my mechanic … the last one before our journey. And yesterday, I said my goodbyes to Lady Seneca. As I stood by her shores, the wonderful, wet scents of midsummer swirled ’round me … the waves were big, crashing as if ocean tides on the rocks. The gulls skreed, the herons winged their way home. The mallard couples watched their young as they learn to paddle. There is no doubt I will miss these green hills and temperamental waters, the changing of blues to greens to grays; and in many ways Geneva will always be home to my heart and soul … but there is also no doubt that it is time to strike out as my own ancestors did several hundred, and some even a thousand, years ago to find and explore new lands.

Later that afternoon, a providential moment told me all I needed to know: On the way home, I stopped at my Grandmother’s grave for one last “Goodbye.” As many of you know, she helped raise me for seven years and was the only stability I had in my young life. As I crouched by her gravestone, whispering my gratitude and farewell, tears began to sting my eyes … in that moment, I realized I’d never actually said goodbye before, though she has been gone since 1979 and I’d left – and returned – a few times. I thought I had, but I’d never truly let go in my heart. This time, 39 years later, it was different. And I knew it.

Standing up, I touched my lips to my fingers, blew a kiss and turned to go. Suddenly I saw a beautiful deep red rosebush in full bloom, just a few grave markers away. My Grandmother adored her roses … she had dozens of bushes, but most especially loved those flushed crimson ones. The ones with petals soft as velvet and a scent that lingers in one’s soul forever. She and I spent many hours caring for them when I was a child. We’d follow the horse trails, collecting the dried manure, we’d prune the bushes with love and conversation, and she’d often pick a prized bloom and gently float it in a crystal bowl to adorn our dining room table. It was her luxury. When I moved to NY in 2002, I’d promised that I would plant a rose bush at her grave … of course, I never got around to it. Time passes so quickly, and I was always too busy. But here, within a few dozen feet, stood this exquisite thicket of red. In all the times I’d visited that spot, I’d never seen it before. In deeply humble gratitude, I silently plucked two …

One for she. One for me. Thank you, Grandma.

Addendum to a Suicide…

“Death is my redemption,” she whispered…
~ Dianna Hardy

Today, celebrity chef and traveler Anthony Bourdain was found dead … suicide. Three days ago, designer Kate Spade. Robin Williams. Ernest Hemingway. Diane Arbus. Dana Plato. George Reeves. Junior Seau. Jeanne-Paule Deckers (The Singing Nun). Many others. We sometimes forget that these stars and superstars were more than celebrities, more than a face on a television set or a competitor on an athletic field, or a reclusive artist, designer,  singer … they were people. People who played as children, laughed when tickled, wept when their first lover broke their heart, and learned to drive at the hands of a nervous teacher. They got good grades and they failed some courses, too. They teased their friends, they talked back to their parents. They danced to their favorite music, probably ate dozens of ice cream cones and skinned their knees. They grew up to love others and to find a way to express their soul. But did we pay any attention to that? Or did we only see the facade, the mask of celebrity-dom?

Today many on social media are expressing sadness at the self-inflected death of Mr. Bourdain … someone who seemed to “have it all”. What I find more tragic – not only about his death, but about all of the other thousands of people who choose to end their life every year – is that we often fail to find the time, or make the effort, to see behind the mask, the smiles, or the laughs. Do we know the meaning of the tattoos they proudly wear, or why they wandered into the world of drugs or alcohol? Do we know why they chose the profession they did, or why they moved across the country, or the world? Do we know of the darkness or the tears; the fear, the pain? Do we care for anything beyond the persona we see on a 52″ screen or a concert stage … or past the idle “hey, howareya” we unthinkingly ask as we pass a friend on the street?

Many are posting the National Suicide Hotline number (1-800-273-8255), and while it may help some, few will reach out and call in that moment of desperation and blackness. I have walked that tightrope twice in my life, and it is a space – a blackhole – like no other. It is not a place of rationality.

The truth of the matter is that it is up to us, individually and as a collective, to help … to connect more, and more often. To connect deeper and with real meaning. To take the time. To make the the time. Just because someone seems to be widely admired or “loved”, “have it all” or supposedly has thousands of “friends”, it does not make them any less human; it does not mean they are not hurting inside, or worried, frightened, or lonely. We need to look past ourselves, to look past our own tiny little world, and into the hearts of others … before it is too late. Before they get to that moment in time from where they can never return.

Reach out … every day … to someone. To your friends, to your family. Talk … and listen. Listen to their stories, their heartbreaks, their loves and losses. Listen and learn about their moments of joy, their accomplishments, their proudest hour. Ask questions, learn about them. Connect. Stuff is just stuff, and it can all disappear in a heartbeat, or with a match. Things can be rebuilt, re-bought, re-made. A living soul cannot. Reach out. Now. Please….

An addendum to the “Addendum”: I realize this may seem to have nothing to do with “The Ride”, but I recently wrote to the question of why I do what I do. And this connection is exactly why … it is the point of why I ride.


Why Do I Ride?

“Trust in dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.”
~ Khalil Gibran

Why do I Ride? There is far more to these crazy meanders of mine than simple wanderlust, a gypsy soul, or a desire to see new places – although I admit, that is beautiful bi-product of why I do it. The reasons, the goals, the hope is indeed, far deeper than that….

It has become pretty obvious to most of us that we have become an increasingly disjointed and separated society, especially here in America. We chat online, we message, we text. We watch ‘reality’ shows … shows about other people’s lives and documentaries about lands and cultures far away … all well accomplished at keeping real reality at arm’s length and gobbling up our time. Time that could be spent connecting with new friends or learning about the changes in the lives of old friends and family. Time that could be spent reaching out to another human being with love … real love, not televised, artificial, scripted “love.” We all-too-often have so little idea of the silent tears people weep, the faceless dreams they have, the voiceless sadness they live … even those close to us. We turn to booze, food, thrill-seeking, and even church, in the desire for something more … in a desire to FEEL something. Something to crack us wide open … and to share something.

So I travel and I stay with people I’ve only known though social media – those corridors of the hallway of separation – until the moment I knock on their door. Then we sit together, we walk together, we talk. We break bread and share stories of our lives. We hug, we laugh. Sometimes we cry. I hear their tales, and they hear mine. We connect in real time. Ears to eyes, heart to soul. We are all human … we are not an image on a screen, or character in a book (or kindle, as the case may be), or a roll in a video game. The teller at the bank, the kid collecting grocery carts at the store, the cable guy, the teacher at school, the nurse in the doctor’s office … they all have stories, they all have loved and lost. And so I travel to remind us all – myself, included – that we are all a part of one whole living, breathing, moving, thing. Life. We are all connected, like it or not. And when the dominos begin to fall, one-by-one, we all do. We need each other, and we need to remember that.

The second of these two reasons: My early life – actually most of my life – has not been easy. I’ve faced many challenges … mentally disturbed and abusive parents, no college education, an emotionally derisive (ex) husband, no family, no children, no money. I’ve worked all of my life for less than what many would ever consider to be a good wage. I’ve lost a house to foreclosure, been homeless, hungry, beaten, raped, and on the verge of suicide … twice. I’ve been challenged all my life with what they now label as “learning disabilities.” And at 63, I have little savings, making-do on a small SS payment and occasional part-time work. I live in a small, inexpensive apartment, and my “new” car is an ’06 with 160,000 miles on it and a few dents. BUT….. I have also made so many of my dreams come true! I overcame those seemingly overwhelming hardships, and sought out and studied enough that most people assume I have a university degree. I’ve insisted on living with an open heart, and I’ve managed to travel across this amazing country (now soon to be twice!), seeing and visiting places that were once only pictures in a wish-book I had. I’ve met amazing people of all races, nationalities, religions, orientations and cultures; from the very poor to the rather wealthy. My point, and one of the reasons I do these “Rides,” is to show – to hopefully inspire and to teach – how dreams CAN come true. That you CAN do it. You don’t have to be rich, you don’t have to come from the “right” family, you don’t have to be young. I often speak to the fact that Life is a gift … a beautifully wrapped package, all sparkly and perfectly tied with an elegant bow … a gift of abilities and desires and dreams and hopes that are given to us on our birth-day. Given to us by whatever it is you believe in … God, Creator, Energy, Infinity, the Heavens, the Universe … it doesn’t matter the name, the gift is the same. And it is given freely and with absolute delight to us – all those things that you desire and that you CAN do … all given to us at the moment of conception to enjoy and make happen.

This is why I ride, and this is why I write. My hope, as time moves forward, is to begin a new journey: A journey of speaking to audiences and share the way to recognize YOUR dreams and how to begin to make them happen … how to make them come true. It requires both head and heart, but it IS possible … I am living proof … and every one of us CAN do it. It is my hope that we can begin – together – to make your dreams … our dreams … come true. And by doing so, pay it forward and help encourage the world to be a better, healthier, and happier place. And it all begins now, with all of us connecting, helping each other to build and realize each of our dreams.

See you all down the road…