Tulips and Make Believe...

When we were little my sister and I would involve ourselves in the most intricate games of make believe. We had whole soap opera type worlds with plot twists, ongoing character development, and moral object lessons. I was thinking about some of the scenarios we would play out and remembered watching my own kids do the same sort of thing a few years ago – it always seems so funny to be on the outside of this world of pretend as you watch someone move so fluidly between the role of actor and director. The whole “now you say such and such” and the person says it, and immediately directs, “and you throw that thing over there” and the other one instantly moves back into character and throws the object indicated.

But, as I thought about it, I actually remembered what it was like to be inside the make-believe world. When you’re on the inside, you’re not an actor carrying out a role, you’re actually being the character. So, the roles you move so quickly between are not of actor and director, but more like character and creator. The minute I had this thought, (which I really shouldn’t have had to begin with since I was meditating at the time and wasn’t suppose to be thinking at all) I got shivers. It was such a cool analogy of how we make our own lives happen. Most of the time we carry on in “character” mode, taking what life hands us, swerving through the curves, and taking the punches. Every once in a while we get a glimpse of who we really are, how powerful we can be, and we take back the reigns of our lives, moving into the “creator” role. In this role we make decisive changes, visualize our selves the way we want to be, and see the bigger picture where every nuance of our lives has purpose and meaning.

Now, I don’t want to bash myself or anyone over the head and say we shoulda, woulda, coulda always live in creator mode. I’m only pointing out the interesting-ness about it. The realization that even when I’m on auto pilot, there’s a person behind the scenes, making up the story line and shouting directions through the megaphone and that person is, well, me. I am creator and character, actor and director, and every day I flow so fluidly in and out of these roles that I don’t even notice.

Noticing is all it takes, I think. There’s some comfort in knowing that when something “bad” happens, it was me who chose for it to happen because it will catapult something else into existence further into the plot line. And heaven knows I’m not going to hurt my lead character too bad when that character is me. And when I really “get” that I’m the one making up the story, I the character can consciously choose to sit in the creator’s seat and use those tools and devices that bring me whatever it is that I want. That is what “living on purpose” is to me – simultaneously being the person in the story, and the person making it up from the sidelines.

Five days a week I receive a “Note From the Universe” email. This is the one I received the same day I was remembering my childhood imaginings and thinking these deep thoughts.
“Can you imagine an astral plane somewhere "out there," Kelly, where
very old souls rendezvous to practice and perfect their most highly developed
manifestation techniques? A members-only kind of place, where whatever
they think about comes to life in the most vivid colors and sounds, and as
the most intricate plots and circumstances? Where the only limits that exist
lie in their ability to imagine what they've never before imagined, and to move
with it in anticipation of its "physical" expression?

And best of all, being astral, no harm can come to them; they're completely
untouchable. Nothing is real, yet everything matters. And there can be infinite
gains in terms of insight and fun, yet no losses since everything is illusory.
Actually, the worst thing that can happen is that they temporarily become so
entranced by their creations that they completely forget who they are, where they
are, and how powerful they really are....

Yep, it's exactly like this astral plane.

Tallyho,
The Universe”

Today I attended the Wooden Shoe Tulip Farm’s 25th Anniversary Tulip Festival. It was one of those things I have wanted to go to all my life and just haven’t ever gone because no one else wanted to go with me. Now that I’m a Deva, I said “Screw the Naysayers!” and went solo. There is nothing like acre after acre of flowers to make you realize life is amazing and cool and beautiful. Isn’t it wonderful that first we get daffodils and then tulips, and then the rhododendrons and azaleas, and then the lilacs, and then the summer annuals kick in, and then the roses bloom and in late summer we get dahlias, then gladiolus and lavender? If we got them all together all at once we wouldn’t notice their individual incredible-ness.

My little camera doesn’t do it justice, but check out the link above for professional photos. You know, there are a million different varieties and colors, but I am always drawn back to the red ones. I even amazed myself that way today. I could appreciate the pink and orange and purple ones, but the Red ones sang to me and waved their heads at me and said “Look, we are the same you and I!”

Taking those few beautiful hours to myself gave me new energy and vibrance. I’m immersed once again in another huge creative project for 7th grade social studies. I’m learning more about medieval times and the crusades than I ever thought possible just by being on board for creative oversight. A while ago, Bailey told me “Mom, if everyone knew how smart you are, they would be so intimidated.” I swooned. Probably what he intended.

Have the Reddest Day Ever!

In Grace,

Kell