Just as I was missing Middle Earth, an opportunity to celebrate my favorite mythical country appeared. All the Hobbit movies have had their theatrical releases. All I have to anticipate still is the extended edition DVD of The Battle of the Five Armies, which will release in November. I’m looking forward to seeing the additional footage incorporated into the film. However, I was missing the Dwarves, Bilbo, Gandalf and the Elves now.
Into my Facebook newsfeed dropped an announcement about Middle Earth Summer Camp! I was delighted. It’s a virtual camp that runs today, July 17-Sunday, July 19. The “camp” is divided into four teams: Dwarf, Hobbit, Elf and Man. Step one was to choose my team.
This was more difficult than I thought it would be! Well, I quickly eliminated Man. Being human, what’s the fun in choosing that team? I debated between the other three. I have a fondness for each, for different reasons. The Hobbits are so good-natured, love the simple life, and have amazing gardens! The Dwarves are fierce, warrior-like, yet playful and they love music. The Elves are the guardians of Middle Earth, along with the Wizards, lovers of beauty and nature, and hospitable.
After much consideration, I chose Team Elf. Rivendell, which inspires me greatly, and is home to Lord Elrond and a multitude of Elves, was the deciding factor.
Today was Ent Day. Ents are ancient beings who dwell in the forests of Middle Earth. They look like walking, talking trees. They think deeply, speak slowly and consider every side of a situation before making a decision. Treebeard was featured in The Lord of the Rings Trilogy and befriended the Hobbits Merry and Pippin.
Our task for Day One was to write a haiku celebrating trees, and Ents in particular. The haiku is a form of Japanese poetry containing three lines. Line one and three contain five syllables each and line two has seven. Each team member who posts a haiku earns points for his or her team. Posting a picture of an ent-like tree garners bonus points.
I had a long and busy day but as I drove from appointment to appointment and ran errands later, I was more aware of the beauty of the trees around me. Even the slightly comical looking “tornado trees” inspired me today, with their tenacity in surviving against the odds. I had intended to walk through the trees along the river at Wildcat Park, but by the time I got home I decided to appreciate the trees that survived in my own yard. I snapped a pic of the Redbud that bent and twisted in the storm yet held firm to the earth. Perhaps at one time, this tree was an Ent! Regardless, I’m glad it withstood the tornado.
And here is my Ent Haiku:
Consider the Ent
Whose wise thoughts and words run deep
While his roots do not
I had fun with Day One of Summer Camp. Days two and three will carry me through the weekend (just wait until my family sees how we are celebrating the day tomorrow!), engage my creativity and satisfy my longing for Middle Earth. I love these little surprises that Life offers up!
Tonight, after a long day spent primarily in the car, several of us gathered at Joe’s Italian Grill, located at 2705 S Range Line in Joplin. Happily, the restaurant was open this evening! It appears that Monday is the only day that they are closed.
Elissa, Adriel, Nate Pugh, and Greg joined me at this new restaurant. We were seated in a small room off of the large main seating area. With the privacy it felt like a party! We treated the experience as such.
The building, which formerly housed a Chinese buffet-style restaurant, has been transformed. The surroundings are beautiful, casual yet classy, giving the feel of a nice sit-down establishment rather than a fast food chain.
Our waiter was friendly and attentive. The food plentiful and definitely not fast food style. Oversized flat rolls, served with olive oil and herbs, were a wonderful start to the meal. I had the shrimp and crab alfredo and savored it. We each tried something different and all declared their meals delicious and very filling. We finished off the meal with a sampling of yummy desserts.
It was a fun meal and a great way to wind down the day. I cherish these gatherings with family. And grandson Dayan surprised us by popping into our room. He was visiting the restaurant for the first time with his dad, stepmom and younger sister and brother.
I look forward to more leisurely meals at Joe’s Italian Grill, with family or friends. And trying something new each time, from their extensive menu.
I showed a string of houses to a fun young couple today, starting at 9:00 AM. The majority of the houses were vacant and very warm, due to the air conditioning either being turned off or set at a high temp. With high humidity and a heat index of 98 degrees, we quickly became hot and sweaty. They were troopers though and gratefully, the last house we looked at had the air blasting away. What a relief to linger in that one for a few minutes.
Back in my cool home, later in the afternoon, I was working on a word swag meme, using a picture from my backyard paradise. As I looked for an appropriate summer time quote to accompany the pic, I wondered when the hot, lazy days of summer lost their appeal for me.
I didn’t grow up with central air conditioning. We had a window water cooler when I was a kid, living in Tulsa, OK. But that was it, other than box fans scattered throughout the house. No central air. Not even a window unit. Just that huge, boxy cooler that chilled the air with cold water before blowing it into the room.
I wasn’t inside anyway, on those long summer days. I grew up in a neighborhood full of kids. We played, climbed trees, rode bikes, sprayed each other with garden hoses. Summer meant freedom…from school, homework, extracurricular activities and early bedtimes. I loved summer days and warm, muggy summer evenings, alive with fire flies, crickets and tree frogs.
At night our parents would call us in, and after baths or showers to rinse away the evidence of the day’s fun, my sisters and I would comb out our long wet hair and then grab our pillows and lie on the floor, in front of a humming box fan. When did all that change? When did summer become something to endure as I look forward to cooler fall days?
Musing on these questions, I grabbed a cold bottle of water and headed back out into the brilliant sunshine. Seated in a canvas chair, on the brickio, I grew still and just allowed the day to be what it was…hot, humid, bright. Sitting there quietly, without judgment or complaint, I took in the garden.
Bees and butterflies darted among colorful blossoms. Birds twittered. The ornamental grasses behind me rustled as they swayed. There was a breeze, after all. It carried to me the delicate scents of basil and mint and lemon balm. I settled deeper into my chair and sighed with contentment.
Beauty surrounded me, in the the form of flowers, grasses, and plants. This garden soothes me and brings me deep pleasure and joy. I love it out there. And the heat? I baked. I inhaled heated air. I sweated and then the breeze cooled my skin as it evaporated the moisture. As I did with the rain, last year, I made friends this afternoon with the summer heat.
And actually, that’s not quite right. We were once friends, long ago. I invited the heat, and with it, summer, back as an old friend. I welcomed summer again, and reveled in the sweet freedom and the caressing warmth and the invitation to bask and do nothing more.
As often as I can this summer, I will steal away to the backyard to sit with my old friend and simply enjoy our time of getting reacquainted. I think it’s time to acquire something new for the backyard, something I’ve always wanted but have never owned…a hammock! What a perfect way to enjoy summer.
Today I added a plant to my herb garden. I have a mental list of plants that I am on the lookout for, primarily herbs that can be dried and used in all kinds of helpful and interesting concoctions. Earlier this year I found Calendula seeds and now have that herb with its dark yellow blooms growing in the large black kettle. Recently I found the Bee Balm plant and I am so excited to include it in the garden.
Bee Balm is a member of the mint family, along with lavender and basil. All three are beneficial for attracting butterflies, bees and hummingbirds. They produce richly scented blooms and leaves, which can be used for teas when dried. I have basil and lavender in the herb, or apothecary, garden. But I had not found the Bee Balm plant yet.
Also known as wild bergamot and horsemint, Bee Balm is a perennial, native to North American. It typically has wonderfully scented pink, red or light purple blooms on a compact, bushy plant. As my plant doesn’t have blooms yet, I’ll be delightfully surprised by the color.
Here are some of the uses for Bee Balm:
The scent is a natural mosquito repellent, especially when the leaves are crushed to release the oils.
It is a soothing skin tonic for dry, itching or sunburned skin. (Boil 1 C of leaves and blooms in 4 C of water for 10 minutes. Let cool and strain. Used on skin or add to bath)
Brew as a tea. Bee Balm has a flavor reminiscent of bergamot oranges. The tea has antiseptic qualities, and contains vitamins A and C, making it an excellent soother of sore throats and cold symptoms. The tea is also great for digestive problems, headache and fever. (Brew ¼ C of fresh leaves or 2 t of dried leaves in 1 C of hot water)
The antiseptic action of Bee Balm also makes it great for poultices, and as a wash for skin infections and minor wounds. Rinsing the mouth with the tea combats gingivitis, mouth sores and throat infections.
The blooms are edible, and somewhat spicy. Add to salads or sandwiches.
And, planted near tomatoes, Bee Balm improves the growth and flavor of the tomatoes.
I am excited to include this versatile plant to my collection. I’m looking forward to harvesting and drying leaves and blooms, and creating teas and tinctures. In the meantime, it will grace the herb garden with its beauty and fragrance, while attracting butterflies, bees and other helpful insect allies. The unique bloom reminds me of the thistle plant, which may be the reason I was initially attracted to it. All the more reason to cultivate this amazing herb.
What to do when the restaurant I intended to try, and write about in my blog, happens to be closed? Daughter Elissa and her husband Josh, and Greg and I arranged to meet at a new restaurant in town, Joe’s Italian Grill. We discovered when we pulled into the parking lot that Monday is the only day Joe’s is closed.
What to do? We took the party to Olive Garden, since our appetites were whetted for chicken parmigiana and fresh, crusty bread. Last year I learned to go with the flow. If a planned first failed to come together, another first always appeared and it was always the perfect activity.
My journeys this year have been the same. I don’t sweat it. I just open to other possibilities. In the spirit of adventure, I tried something new at Olive Garden, rather than dining on my usual Seafood Alfredo.
I’ve never created my own Tour of Italy platter before. I chose eggplant parmigiana, fettuccine alfredo and cheese ravioli for my “tour”. Josh and Elissa created a Tour of Italy also that they shared, leaving room, as Elissa mused, for dessert! Greg had chicken parmigiana. We shared a big bowl of salad and a basket of fresh breadsticks.
We will all gather at Joe’s another time for a meal. Tonight we dined well. Primarily , we talked and listened and laughed. It was good to catch up on news and tell stories. That’s the real joy in sharing a meal. And the dessert did turn out to be pretty awesome!
What a journey I’ve had, reclaiming the flower beds along the south side of the house. Five years ago, they were beautiful. However, the tornado, drought and neglect have wreaked havoc on the careful work that Dayan and I originally did in 2010.
Before the reclamation began.
When I moved back into the house, I focused on the backyard garden, transforming it into my own private paradise. At last, this year, I turned my attention to the front and side gardens. It’s been hard work! I’ve sweated and over heated, cut my fingers and arms on broken glass left over from the storm, tangled with out of control rose bushes, dug and chopped and pulled weeds, and fought with roots and the weed barrier cloth that I put down five years ago.
I considered giving up and allowing grass to permanently overtake the beds. I was inspired to continue because I bought the new plants ahead of time, knowing I might need such inspiration! And, the deep joy that I experience as I lovingly tuck plants into the ground called to me with promises of fulfillment and satisfaction. I persevered, moving foot by foot, section by section.
Tonight, I’m proclaiming victory! The toughest section, the one that challenged me the most, was finally cleared and turned with a spade, and at last, plants went into the ground. Yellow, red and orange Blanket Flowers, rosy Indian Feather, rusty Stonecrop, Carpathian Harebells and brightly colored Fireworks Fountain Grass now fill the bed. I left a pink Honeysuckle vine, Spiderwort, and a Sedum Purpureum plant that survived, as reminders of the resilience of Life.
As I turned the ground, I thought about a great conversation that Greg and I had today, around the blog entry that I posted two days ago. I wrote about transforming through phases of life, each phase birthing the next. Greg and I discussed that concept at length, and looked at our individual journeys as we’ve grown. There’s no going back on this journey, no returning to who we once were, any more than a butterfly can return to being a caterpillar.
We learn, though, from every aspect of the journey, every joy, every challenge. Greg said something that I like so much, I wrote it down. He said, “Experiences inform us, rather than define us.” How profound, and how true. I don’t have to beat myself up over past mistakes or cling to old memories, rosy as they may be. I learn, I am informed, and I journey on.
I brought that truth to my present task, as I dug holes for the plants. I didn’t need to berate myself for the condition of this flower bed. Instead, I looked at all that I have learned through this experience: Don’t use barrier cloth…use deep mulch instead to control weeds. Don’t plant pervasive plants, such as ivy and liriope, as they are very difficult to control or remove. I have learned what plants work well for my area, my yard. And, I learned that persistence and hard work brings order out of chaos. I am not defined by my mistakes. Rather, I have been informed by my past actions. As a result, a better gardener has been birthed!
I know this bed will always require diligence and a watchful eye, or it will tend toward wildness. I willingly accept that and I know I am up to the challenge. I still have mulch to spread and two more sections to plant, but with great joy I surveyed my work, as darkness gathered. I was a hot mess. But this bed lay before me, cleared of its tangled overgrowth, flowers serenely in the ground. I smiled triumphantly, through sweat, dirt and bug spray. Oh, how sweet this victory.
What a special day as family gathered at my uncle’s farm in Oklahoma. Carrying in food and drinks and delicious desserts, we met to celebrate the birthdays of my Uncle Rex, who is about to turn 82, and my Aunt June, who just had her 80th. These precious people are brother and sister, and the siblings of my sweet dad, who passed five years ago.
My family has experienced a lot of loss in recent years, which is all the more reason to join together when we can, party for any reason. Case in point: my Aunt Jeannie, who is June’s twin sister, was unable to join us today, due to her health. We were mindful of her absence and send her love and peace.
We are a boisterous bunch when we gather, and I appreciate Uncle Rex and his wife, Aunt Mary, opening their home to all of us. Their son Mike was present, with his sweetheart Jeanette. From further west in Oklahoma came Aunt June with her sons, Alan and Denny, my sister Debbie and her daughter Ashley, son-in-law Jon and grandsons Ethan and Kaleb. Roy, who will always be part of our family, arrived from Tulsa as well.
The Missouri bunch included my sister Linda with her granddaughter London, my mom, and myself. I love my family, and the way we connect and accept each other. My mom and my dad divorced when I was nine, and yet Mom was welcomed heartily today by my father’s family. That means a lot to me.
My uncle reminds me so much of my dad. It bathes my heart with father-love, being in his presence. He is such a good-natured, good-hearted man. He laughs easily, and tears up just as easily, unafraid to show emotion. He told me this afternoon, as I kissed him goodbye, that these family celebrations are so good for him, so special. That’s all the reason that I need to continue.
My aunt is a sweet and gentle woman whose face and eyes light up when her family is near. I feel very tender toward her, very protective. Her husband, my Uncle Dale, passed away recently. They journeyed long and well together. She told me today, as I stood with my arm around her shoulders, that she misses her husband, thinks of him every day, still talks to him. My heart aches for her loss. I am so grateful that she could join us today.
What an amazing afternoon of feasting and visiting, laughing and telling stories. Some of us even participated in the rescue of small fish that had been washed out of their pond by heavy rains. That is a trait that strongly defines my family members: we care about animals and all life.
I hope and pray for many more of these family gatherings, where love can be expressed among the living. I cherish this time. My desire is to have no regrets later, no if onlys, no I should haves. Only joy.
One of the joys from this summer has been hanging out with grandson Dayan several times a week, eating lunch together, chatting and watching Doctor Who episodes. At 16, he is growing up, forming plans and goals for his life, driving for goodness sakes! I am honored that he chooses to set aside time for us to spend together. The conversations that we have are some of the most meaningful that I have ever had.
Today we ate Chinese food while completing Season 4 of the new Doctor Who. This was a day I had been dreading, much as I love this series. The 10th Doctor regenerated during the final episode, becoming the 11th Doctor, which was significant in that David Tennant stepped aside for Matt Smith to take the title role. I have become a huge fan of this Scottish actor and I love his portrayal of the traveling Time Lord. The inevitable happened, while we watched. And I survived the loss and the change. I am sure I will come to appreciate Matt Smith as well.
The most remarkable part of the afternoon was talking with Dayan in between episodes and after the season finale. Shows like Star Trek and Doctor Who are not just sci-fi fantasies about aliens and marvelous new worlds. They are the backdrops to exploring not only space, but human nature, the human heart and soul. Humanity’s greatest strengths and greatest frailties are revealed as the characters go on adventures each week, battle enemies, rescue others.
I shared with Dayan a meme that I found recently, that spoke in deep ways about the various Doctors as they regenerate. That meme has stayed with me, as it also speaks deeply about the growth of the human soul. It is easier, perhaps, to watch the transformation take place on the TV screen. This larger than life character called The Doctor is changed, and not just physically, by his interactions with life, the journey, and the companions he travels with. He is also impacted by those who cross his path for a short time, especially when they are lost to him afterward. Every experience, every person he encounters shapes him, for better or for worse, depending on his response or reaction. I can see that as I watch, and I rejoice with him, and grieve with him as he journeys.
The 9th Doctor is born from war, and it shows in his somberness and his aggressiveness. However, he meets Rose and his hearts (both of them) open and he falls in love. The 10th Doctor is born from love and he is joyful, playful, affectionate. He experiences great loss, however, ending up alone. Doctor 11 is born from solitude. Since I am just getting to know the 11th Doctor I rely on Dayan to tell me, he is lonely, vulnerable, wistful, child-like. He travels with great companions and meets someone who awakens his desire to love again. The 12th Doctor is born from hope. He is wiser, older. I look forward to meeting him one day soon.
I can translate what I see, watching Doctor Who, into my own life. While I don’t change my face and body as I grow and journey, I transform, I shift, I am born. I wish I could actually travel back in time, and snap pictures of myself, during the phases I have moved through, but my words will have to suffice and create the picture. My earliest thoughts of myself and of the world were born from fear. I was afraid of everything….the dark, being alone, my gifts, the things I could see and hear that others couldn’t, of being too much or not enough. I learned to control my emotions, to control the fear, to attempt to control life and the beyond.
I was born from stoicism. I learned to endure the pain of isolation, the fear of life and the spirit world, and subdue my emotions. I was born of silence, which was seen as acceptance, agreement and meekness. Giving up my voice, I lost so much of my true self. I was born from discontent, tired of stifling who I was, what I thought, what I felt. It was the first step toward freedom and regaining my birth right. I was born from desire, as long suppressed emotions, and feelings pushed away, surged forth again, finding expression and creative outlets. I was born from hope, that it is never too late to open to life, open to myself, open to others. I was born from true acceptance, as fear fell away at last, along with the frantic need to control myself and life, allowing me to embrace who I was, fully, for the first time. Peace became a by product of that part of my journey.
I am born from joy. That is my companion now, along with solitude. I am open and learning and continuing to expand, as I journey. I see how I have been divinely guided and how my choices have affected every aspect of my life. I feel myself shifting yet again, much as The Doctor recognizes the signs that regeneration is about to take place and he will transform. Out of the pain and fear, the anxiety and discontent, some of my greatest growth has occured, and although my face remains the same, affected more by the length of time I have been a traveler, I am not the same person who began this journey. None of us are. I am being born, from love, a love that knows no limits.
Thank you, Doctor Who, for the deeper truths that are woven throughout the adventures and the stories. And thank you, Dayan, for your willingness to travel alongside and share the journey, share your heart, share your thoughts, and imagine with me what is possible in this incredible universe that we call home. Now….if we could just build us a TARDIS!
My journey today took me to Arkansas, which is always a beautiful drive through green rolling hills and over lazy rivers and creeks. Those all vanished during the drive this afternoon as thunderstorms hovered over the area, dumping torrential rain.
I’m thankful that Greg was driving. Visibility narrowed down to a few feet as rain pelted the car. Lightning flashed yet did nothing to provide illumination. Cars pulled over, or crawled along at greatly reduced speeds, headlights and emergency flashers on.
It’s a tense situation to drive in. And yet, surrounded by water, the world shifted and became strangely beautiful. Perhaps I’ve been watching too much Doctor Who, because the landscape took on an other world quality, familiar yet alien, dangerous and yet amazing.
As we drove between tall rocky outcroppings, where the hillsides were blasted away to create the roadway, dozens of waterfalls cascaded to the ground below. I’ve never seen so much water, moving in so many ways. We dared not stop to take better pictures, but I snapped through the rain spotted windows, trying to capture the effect.
As we left the Natural State, hours later, headed back to Joplin, we again experienced heavy rains. The sky blackened and then the clouds unburdened themselves. It is amazing to me to be out in such weather. Such spectacles, such displays of power, fill me with wonder. Not only is the world cleansed, and made fresh, the rain and rushing waters washed through my soul as well.
I have become a Whovian, thanks to my grandson Dayan. And today, my journey led me into the Doctor Who universe for my first ever Doctor Who inspired holiday. July 8 is Bad Wolf Day, a remembrance of character Rose Tyler, the 10th Doctor’s beloved traveling companion. On this date, nine years ago, Rose and The Doctor were separated when Rose was trapped within an alternative universe. One of the saddest scenes in Doctor Who history took place during the Doomsday episode, as Rose and The Doctor said good bye to each other.
The words Bad Wolf are significant. During Rose’s time as a companion to The Doctor, the pair repeatedly saw the words “Bad Wolf” during their adventures. The words showed up on signs, flags, corporations and as graffiti on walls, parking lots and even on the TARDIS, on alien worlds and the Earth, in the past, present and future. Rose thought the words were a warning of impending doom. However, we find out during the episodes Bad Wolf and The Parting of the Ways, that the words are actually a trail for Rose to follow, a trail that she created herself, to lead her to the place she needed to be, to save The Doctor and the Earth. The words later appear to The Doctor as an indication that Rose is involved in mysterious events happening around him, even though they are living in different universes. Always, the words Bad Wolf are connected to Rose.
To celebrate Bad Wolf Day, and remember Rose Tyler, Whovians are encouraged to write her signature words on anything and everything. Dayan and I agreed, this sounded like fun! We participated by writing Bad Wolf where we could, individually and when we had the opportunity to spend time together this afternoon. During lunch we enjoyed this activity the most, creating a sign to hang on a bulletin board in a local burger restaurant, and literally playing with our food to spell out the words. I used catsup to write Bad Wolf near my burger and fries, while Dayan spelled out Bad Wolf in Morse code, using tater tots as the dots and segments of French fries as dashes. Rose Tyler would have been proud!
We concluded Bad Wolf Day by watching Doctor Who, of course. I am steadily making my way through the seasons this summer, so that I will be caught up and ready for season 9 when it begins this fall. It has been incredibly fun, not to mention addictive, to watch this British series with my grandson. I love that we share this love for Doctor Who and can discuss the show and all its themes, plots and intrigues. I find the series to be extremely clever and well written, and I often ponder over the episodes long after the credits roll.
In fact, I thought much on the theme of Bad Wolf and the idea of leaving clues for ourselves sprinkled throughout time. I love time travel shows, thoughts and speculation. While I am not consciously able to travel through time, leaving clues for myself, I still wonder about the possibilities. Could my future self send energy back to my present self, in the form of echoes, dreams, visions or synchronicities? I’ve long pondered on such things. In my world, and from my experiences, I’ve learned anything is possible!
What if, I wondered today….what if, instead of words as clues, we have déjà vu? Déjà vu, which is French and means “already seen”, is the strong sense that a situation or event that is currently being experienced, has been experienced before. It is a remembering, of something we are only now experiencing, often for the first time.
I frequently experience déjà vu and I’ve always been curious about the phenomenon. In thinking about it today, and connecting it to the celebration of Bad Wolf, I remembered that years ago, I had a unique experience involving déjà vu. Greg and our three children and I had had a week’s vacation in California. The morning we were flying back to Joplin, I began to experience déjà vu, repeatedly. At the hotel, at Los Angeles Airport, and then at the Denver, CO airport, the feeling of having lived the day before grew stronger and stronger. By the time we were waiting in Denver to board our last flight home, I was experiencing déjà vu every few minutes. I grew concerned over why I was having such a sense of repeating the day.
By the time we were all seated in the airplane, preparing for take off, I was nearly in a panic. The strongest déjà vu had happened as I took my seat on the plane and saw the pattern on the wall, at the front of the cabin. I was convinced I was having such rapid déjà vus because this was to be my last day on Earth. I was sure the plane was going to crash. I glanced out the window and noted that a thunderstorm was rapidly approaching, as we sat waiting to taxi out onto the runway. The pilot announced that he was watching the storm also, and that we would most likely experience turbulence as we lifted into the air. Yes, we were going to crash, I thought.
I had not said anything to my family, about the day full of déjà vu. But my older daughter Elissa, seated across the aisle from me, was tense and watching me with a look of concern on her face. She knew I was feeling something. And I was. Should I get my family off the plane? Did I need to brush off the sensations and relax? Did I need to accept the inevitable?
I decided that whatever was going to happen, I had been given a “head’s up”, a warning. I smiled at Elissa. And then relaxed, sat back and closed my eyes. With all my heart, mind and soul, I searched inward and then reached outward. I prayed. I asked for protection for the plane, the passengers, the pilot, co-pilots and attendants. I surrounded the plane with protective energy, a huge bubble of white light. I mentally pushed the storm back, and released my own anxiety and fear. I called on angels to come alongside and to surround the plane as well.
As the plane began rolling down the runway, gathering speed, I did something I have never done before, or since. I used all my focus and ability to gather energy beneath the plane and push it upward. As we lifted into the air, I “saw” myself helping the jet to lift and stabilize. I practically lifted myself out of my seat, I was concentrating so acutely on rising. It was a rough ascent. And then, we rose above the turbulence, above the storm that was closing in, into the sunshine and calmer air currents.
Immediately, everything I had been feeling fell away. I opened my eyes and sighed deeply and relaxed again completely. The flight home was smooth and uneventful and I had no more déjà vu that day. I don’t have an explanation for what happened. I don’t know if the déjà vu was a warning that drew my attention to what could happen, during take off. I do know the almost constant sense of having lived the day before put me on alert, and the feeling seemed to peak as we boarded the plane. Did I help the plane rise into the air? Did I prevent an accident? I’ll never know for sure. I believe in the power of prayer and I believe that I can act on what I am being shown, no matter what anyone else believes.
The words Bad Wolf led Rose to the exact place she needed to be, to do what only she could do. Perhaps, just perhaps, déjà vu did the same for me, providing clues that were scattered throughout my day, designed to catch my attention and raise my awareness. At least, unlike poor Rose, I didn’t end up falling through a rift in time and space, ending up in an alternative universe! I arrived home, safely.
