Meeting Kali

Visions of their criticizing faces flew around her. The wind whipped their words in a frenzy, echoing through her mind. “Empty” “Lost” “Hypocrite” “Failure” “Not Enough” Around and around they swirled.

Her heart pounded. She could feel the goose bumps all over her skin. The wind was deafening. She feared it would push her off that precarious ledge where she stood. Lightning flashed — oh! — so close. She felt its fire touch her cold skin.

A vision of a small girl appeared beside her. Lost and alone “Ignored” “Afraid” “simple” “Plain” were the words that came to her now. The little girl did not smile. Her face was solemn and smudged. She looked abandoned and unloved. She did not cry, just stared straight ahead – watching someone or something off in the distance. She realized the girl was wearing a dirty dress and her hair was a mess. And she didn’t seem to be afraid of the flashing lightning or the wind pulling at her, threatening to let her fall from the cliff.

The Goddess stood, half smiling beside them. Her many hands seeming to caress the silvery clouds. Was the lightning coming from her hands? “What do you want from this?” her eyes seemed to say. “None of this is stronger than I. I am you. I can take all of this away. Look deep into those words. Into those faces”

She found herself peering closer, forgetting the precipice there at her feet. The words seemed to shimmer. More lightning flashed. The wind roared louder and louder. Stones fell…down…down…into the valley below as her feet pushed closer to the edge. She peered. Her breathing came quicker, deeper into her belly…She leaned…further…further.

“I am here. You will not fall.” The Goddess’ strength surrounded her, wrapping her in her arms, yet not touching her. And the girl. Where had she gone? She looked back at the words. They were now translucent. She could see far beyond them. They swirled, but slower now.

She noticed that the lightning still flashed, but now she saw its beauty. She felt music in her heart, playing to the distant beat of the thunder. Or was that her heart’s pounding? The faces faded until all she could see was the fading colors in them as the wind turned them into whispers of clouds.

The hands of the Goddess guided the wind in slow, undulating waves. Drawing the beauty of the silver clouds all around them. She realized the girl stood beside her again. Her face was upturned and smiling. In her hand was a piece of paper. In the other, a pencil. She looked up, and, smiling once more, wandered off. Meandering and noticing the path down the mountain. Sometimes she’d stop and bend to look at something. Sometimes picking something up and turning it this way and that.

She watched the girl for a few minutes. As her attention came back to the Goddess beside her – she found that the storm in front of her was filled with shimmering lights and flashes of color. A chorus of beauty and power. She stretched out her arms and realized that so much of the light was coming from her pounding chest. And still the Goddess stood beside her – the knowing smile on her lips.

Gone were the chills down her spine. She turned her face up and felt the fire of the lightning warm her skin. She breathed so deeply and realized the wind was a part of her breath. The deeper she breathed, the more it moved.

She listened to the Goddess’ unspoken words once more. “Return to this place when you have need of it. I am here. I am you. I am strength and power. Return to me and fear no more”

Her eyes closed and she was gone. The storm was gone. The mountain was gone. The girl was gone. All that remained was a smooth pebble. There, warm in her hand. Black it seemed until she looked closer and saw her own rainbow reflection.


My First Painting

I have joined Goddess Leonie’s Goddess Circle. It has been calling to me for months and then April 1 was the start of the Creative Goddess e-course. I could not resist. Creativity has been calling me for quite a while now. I want to explore what embracing it will do…and so it begins…

Tonight, my daughter and I painted. I have not painted since…like…forever. We made a mess, we listened to our hearts and we just did it. She moved on to other things after she was done, but my heart still had something to say…

And so I wrote words as they came to my head. I drew wavy lines that at first had no meaning until I began to see. I then picked up my pen and created a story that curiously matched the picture. Where did that come from? I don’t care, it just feels good to create!

My artwork:

My daughter’s artwork:

My drawing:

My story:

A light rain drizzled over her head. It dripped down the side of her face and off her nose. She could feel the wetness building at the nape of her neck. Her shoulders hunched as she tried to pull the jacket closer around her neck. She knew the tears would come soon. At this point, who cared? Alone in the dark…again. She felt the cold seep into her bones. The rain came harder and her soul grew heavier. The voices teased her over and over. Her own words, spewing hatred to the face in the mirror. His words of rejection and ridicule. Their laughter behind her back.






Each word pushing the knife deeper into her heart.

The rain ran in rivers down her neck. She’d given up on holding the collar tight to her throat. There was no point waiting here any longer. It was evident that he wasn’t coming.

Somehow, her feet moved. Her mind had nothing to do with it. It didn’t care if she stood there and dissolved into the nothingness she felt. But somehow…her feet carried her.

Her hands were numb as she lifted her sleeve to check the time. She had to look again when the only thing that registered when she looked was the fact that he hadn’t called. No one had. No one was looking for her or wondering if she was OK.

The rain poured harder. Thunder began to rumble in the distance. Her feet still carried her forward. Relentless. Pushing on. Splashing through puddles. Forward. She did not think about where they were taking her. All she could hear was those terrible words.

Somewhere, she heard a bird singing. She noticed the water running down her face was just from her hair. The rain had lifted. Still her feet carried her…closer and closer to the quiet. She heard the dripping leaves litter the forest floor with moisture. More birds chimed in and rustled above her.

She noticed she was on a different path this time. This one was quiet. Flickering sunlight peaked at her from through the glistening leaves.

Her icy hands pushed her hair slick back on her head. It felt good to get the dripping off of her face. Her temperature slowly climbed as her feet carried her along the path that gently rose up toward the sky. She could feel her heart in her chest, pushing blood to her cold fingers. The sun was stronger now. She could feel the steam starting to rise from her soaked clothing. The birds were louder; louder than the words.

As her hear pounded, her mind began to settle. The screaming faded to a mutter that she had trouble hearing. She began to forget those angry faces and noticed the clouds as the sun pushed through them.

She remembered a poem that she had written so many years ago. At another time and place when the ideas flowed from her heart like the rain that she’d just been through:

The waves that once were raging with fury

now lap softly at the deserted beach.

The green, murky waters wash the traces

of the storm away to hide in its depths.

Never to be see by the fretful world

in all its grimness and all its pain.

The Lord has commanded the waves to show us

that there is peace, along with the storms.

And the parting black clouds in our hearts

must give way to the shining Son — always.

Why had those words come to her after all these years? Why now? And how did she remember every word she’d written? Suddenly, she realized her feet had stopped moving. The path was gone. She lifted her head…

She felt it more than saw it. The grace. The beauty. Tears blurred her vision. She could see so far around her from this spot. So beautiful, so peaceful, so small. How did everything get so small? She felt so big. Higher than that dark world below. She realized she’d stretched her arms out and had lifted her face to the sun. She felt its warmth deep in her soul. Warm tears squeezed from beneath her eyelids. They ran down her face until she felt them on her lips. She tasted the salt and felt her own smile.

She turned and looked back towards the path…only to find that it was not there. Dense foliage blocked her way. The birds soared about her calling her name. She was sure she’d heard her name? Was she mistaken? Where did the path go? She was sure she’d come from that direction. The only way she could see was a rocky path along a ledge in front of her. She knew she did not come up that way.

Her clothes were starting to dry. The voices and the faces had disappeared entirely. Gone with the strange path that her feet had followed to this place. The words of the poem repeated and ran together in her mind.

The rocky path ahead was narrow. She felt her heart quicken and her face flush:

“What if it wasn’t the right way?”

“Maybe she should force her way back through the dense foliage?”

“Stay with the way she thought she knew?”

“What if she went ahead and the rocky path got steeper?”

“What if it became two paths?”

“Which way would she go?”

She could just sit here and enjoy the view, couldn’t she? Surely someone would come? But who? Who was she waiting for?

The birds continued their glorious celebration all around her.

She took one last look at where she thought she’d been. She breathed in the beauty all around her once more. Her body filled with the sights and smells and sounds of this glorious place. It filled up her courage and her heart. Her mind stopped asking the question as her soul took over:

“What a grand adventure may lie ahead?”

“I wonder what I’ll see?”

“How many other paths are there?”

“How many will I get a chance to follow?”

“Will the birds follow me?”

“What am I waiting for?”

And her feet carried her forward once again. And the sun shone. And the birds sang. And she heard these words:






…and she smiled.

Time for Me – Fairmont Day 5

Yesterday was day 5 in Fairmont. The day started with the sun shining, so that was exciting!

Bruce rushed down to the rec centre to try to get Lucas into the elusive archery activity! Finally! success!

So the two of them did that while Rebecca enjoyed the quiet without her brother bugging her! I spent the time cleaning up our ‘home’ (which wasn’t much because we’ve been keeping it tidy).

Then, I had time to myself on the deck! I began to write! I was so excited! I got to work on something that I’ve been needing reclusive time for! I loved it! I wanted more!

After lunch, we headed up to the water park to enjoy the sun. It was refreshing swimming in an outdoor pool again like we did when we were kids!

Our evening plans were to pig out on the local pizza and watch movies – yes, I know, we can do that at home. But it’s something we love to do as a family, so we did it!

In between things, I did spend time writing and reading on my iPhone. Lucas and Rebecca commented about that. I decided that I needed to explain right now about what I’m trying to do.

So, we sat and had a family meeting. I explained about why I wanted to work on my business stuff. I told them how much I wanted to be working from home instead of leaving them everyday.

I talked about why I love to write and to create things and help people. I reminded them about all the stuff that I’d been doing with them and that sometimes I wanted to do my own thing too.

Most of all, I reminded them how much I love them and that if I’m not paying enough attention to them that they could tell me. That I might need their help sometimes because I know that I make mistakes.

They were ok after that. I realized that I should have had that conversation with them a long time ago. Sorry guys!

I’m up first this morning, reading and writing again. Hope to go for a hike today.

Plain Ol’ Happiness

I sit here on the grass, sun beating down on my back – heat from a long absent sun. A caressing breeze flutters the scrap of paper I write on. At last, a gorgeous spring evening after so many grey days.

I consider Happiness. Simple. Everyday. Happiness.

My daughter here, learning to play a game I love; I’ve always loved this game of baseball. It was the only game I was ever really good at. Happiness. The game that I spent so many hours playing with my brother, just the two of us. The quiet back and forth; smack of ball in soft leather. Back and forth. Over and over. Happiness. I remember hours shared in the company of my patient brother. Few words. Sharing a love. Happiness.

I look out at that girl; so tall and lanky among the others; wearing her brother’s ball cap, pony-tail sticking out the back. Happiness. No fashion show, no boys to impress, no bickering. Just a game. Played in the sun on a gorgeous spring evening. Happiness.

There is a father nearby, playing tag with another little girl; giggles echoing through the breeze. No cell phone chirps to interrupt their play as they head to the park. Hand in hand. Happiness.

Incredibly, from where I sit, I can see fields and horses – foals sprinting; tails held high as they race. Surely, they are in high spirits brought on by that welcome sunshine. Happiness.

In the distance, I actually hear the songs of frogs. I never noticed them before. Happiness. Among them, the sound of robins and the churning of a nearby feed mill. I hear the clink of ball hitting aluminum bat and players calling to each other. Happiness. And now, a pair of Canada Geese honking, disturbed from where they were feeding. A train rattles by, filled to the brim, signs of prosperity in uncertain times. Happiness.

She holds a bat now…I can see her look of concentration…That “tongue-sticking-out-thing” that she gets from me…Trying so hard to figure this out…Her swings are faster…stronger now, after a little coaching…Determination I see in those eyes. Happiness. Oh!…So close now!…The bat sweeps straight across; barely missing!…Another pitch…Yes!!!…It skims along the red shale toward first base…an out…but still…a HIT! Happiness.

The wind picks up a bit, and I can feel a sprinkling of rain; but the sun shines on. The girls spot a rainbow over the diamond and it distracts them for a bit. They exclaim to each other. Happiness. Sheer joy at just seeing a rainbow. They don’t notice the temperature drop as they chatter and laugh and toss the ball back and forth. Happiness.

A splot of  rain on my piece of paper. Or is it a tear? Happiness.


A Poem By My Daughter

My daughter just turned 10 and has been wanting to write a poem for a Remembrance day contest.

She wrote one last night and wanted me to share it with all of you!


All That Is Right

On Remembrance Day we remember
It’s a special day in November
The soldiers died for their country
So that we could be free
A symbol of remembrance is a poppy red
Soldiers wished they were home in their bed
But they stayed to fight
For all that is right


I told you she is creative! I thought she did a great job for her first attempt at poetry!

Getting Great

Now, that title does not seem grammatically correct at all! It’s bugging the “spelling and grammar checker” part of me! I think I am pretty great at spelling!

Anyway…I got distracted by my title! I need to get to point of my story!

Once again, I was reading a post from Leo’s zenhabits: The Only Way to Become Great at Something and once again, Leo hits the nail on the head.

Practice, practice, practice! Don’t give up and don’t get discouraged.

Take me for example: Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I would try a new skill. Something like knitting or raquetball or whatever. Well, that old me would be furious when she didn’t pick up that skill, like, right NOW! I’m talking about foot-stomping, temper tantrum furious! And this was when I was 20, not 2 for crying out loud! Seriously! I pouted and threw a fit because I wasn’t absolutely able to perform that skill perfectly. It’s embarrassing! Sheesh!



I have come a long way since then. Now, I have more patience. I understand that the only reason that I am great at what I do (at least I think I am! 😉 ) is because I have been “practicing” for so long. I am able to help people because I have been helping people in some way or another for about 18 years now.

To quote Leo: “So here’s the thing: don’t get discouraged if you’re just starting out. Have fun, like we all did in the beginning. If you have fun, you’ll learn to love it, and THAT’S when it clicks”

I started out having fun, and on those good days now, I am still having a blast helping people with their computers. It is fun because: 

  1. I get to play on the computer every day!
  2. I usually learn something new while I’m helping that person
  3. I feel great when I am able to solve a problem; even if it’s just a little one because to the person I’m helping, it isn’t little; it’s important

I like the quote he uses from George Lucas: “Everybody has talent. It’s just a matter of moving around until you’ve discovered what it is.”

I’ve mentioned that often in my blogs: Find your passion. Chase that passion with all your heart. Someday you WILL become great at whatever you decide to do.

At the moment is I have several things that I want to be great at! Oh well! One of those things is Cafe Cevraini!

So, I will continue to write this blog because I absolutely LOVE writing it! I am passionate about it. It wakes me in the dead of night with a new idea. I want to do it all the time. I want to become like some of those great writers that I love to read.

But, the new me is not going to stomp her foot and pout and give up! The person I am today is patient and willing to work and try and try again. I may never become  a great writer, but I’m sure not going to give up on it!

Because it’s something I love to do, and anything worth doing, is worth the effort!

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Shower of Inspiration

Where to search for inspiration? Where do good ideas come from?

My best place for inspiration is in the shower! I have solitude there. The outside world is blocked; the phone doesn’t ring, the radio isn’t blasting, and I can barely hear the kids trying to kill each other!

The caressing drops of water gently massage knots out of my shoulders and ideas out of my head! The scorching heat (I do like it hot!) relaxes my spirit and my mind can just glide along with my thoughts.

I’ve always loved long, hot showers for this reason. It drove my dad (and siblings!) nuts and it drives my husband crazy too! But, it’s where I do my best thinking, so I will continue to do it. Sorry water meter!

I used to sing in the shower a lot too when I was a kid. Not so much anymore, but I do notice that many times, I can hear my daughter belting it out in there and it always makes me smile 🙂 – she is so like me!

Where else do I get inspiration? There are a “shower” of places:

  1. listening to music – says the girl who constantly puts music videos into her posts! 😉
  2. going for walks, especially in the quiet country side – don’t do that often enough anymore
  3. listening to my children laugh down the hall from my bedroom door
  4. my husband! especially long talks while we’re driving
  5. reading great writing and aspiring to be just as great
  6. my best friend – she inspires me to be who she thinks I am 😉 when I really just want to be more like her
  7. creating and sewing with beautiful fabric – especially if it’s for someone I care about
  8. sipping an ice cold beer on a hot night sitting around the campfire looking up at the stars
  9. helping people solve problems – I love it and it inspires me to do more
  10. Christmas – because it brings out the best in people when it’s not about the gifts
  11. My parents – how I try to be what they know I can be
  12. Riding my bike – all I can hear is the wind in my ears and the miles (and worries) just disappear and I am free
  13. Writing my blog, when even just one person reads it and I can help them, even just make them think, that’s truly cool!
  14. A hot cup of coffee with a friend, laughing until our guts hurt!
  15. Late night talks with my oldest, who will still give me a hug and call me when he needs me (and doesn’t care if his friends think it isn’t cool!)
  16. Curled up under a blanket with my nose in a book while the snow falls outside and the house is quiet because everyone is doing the same thing
  17. So many more, but I won’t bore you!

What inspires you? How do you keep those ideas and great thoughts coming to you?

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