This is a photo taken of the Japanese tsunami and earthquake on 3/11
Yesterday was 313, today is 312 but it's almost over. So I'm counting down for tomorrow, which is 311.
I can't think of a more fitting image than today's, with the beautiful sakura over the destruction.
You can't have one without the other, you must sift through the rubble, taking the good with the bad, and rebuild again.
Yesterday I wrote before breakfast. We had a nice Jewish Delicatessen breakfast of bagels, lox, latke's and blintzes.
I was very full. I also wanted to walk to my old apartment from the restaurant. It wasn't far. I wanted to see the homes, the flowers and gardens, and to walk my old walk one more time. Anthony was kind, and walked with me.
I was excited that the flower shop had the same owners, and instead of the wife the husband was out preparing the flowers to sell for the day.
Many more stores had changed. I almost didn't recognize it.
As we turned the corner and walked down the street, the homes were different. Many were in disrepair.
Then my old one came up!
I walked into the garage underneath, and saw the spot where I used to park my car.
Emotions flooded my consciousness, one after another, and I began to cry. With joy I saw that the blackberry bushes were still at the fence, the ones I would pick and make a pie every fall.
I saw the steps that led to the pool and followed them, only to see that the pool had been filled in with dirt and large trees were growing out from where I used to swim. I looked up and the stairs went all the way up to my safe place, my 'eyrie' on the rooftop where I would stop and think and look at the fog rolling in through the Golden Gate Bridge.
Anthony didn't like to see me cry. He comforted me. He asked me are these happy tears? or sad ones?
I was perplexed and said, 'I don't know!'
We walked to where the laundry and the mailboxes had been. By then I had stopped weeping.
I pulled myself together. We walked through town, saw the movie about Winnie the Pooh, and ran into an old friend.
Lee Frank jewelers, where our wedding rings had come from, was gone, and now a Game Stop.
Massive apartment buildings have been built over older, charming homes.
We had a nice dinner, played Jeopardy and I fell fast asleep on our last night of vacation.
In the twilight between dreams and morning, Mark's spirit came to me. I checked with Ross to make sure it was okay to talk to him? Was this really the real first husband?
He said he wanted to say goodbye to me. I saw him scrambling eggs, and making toast. I knew it was him because he had this brand of bread. He had ketchup for my eggs too. I was crying, it was so good to see him again, and to talk. He explained to me very gently, that I did the right thing to leave him. It was a hard lesson on us both. But he showed me his daughter, and he said, he thinks about me every night before he goes to sleep, and when he wakes up he remembers why I left him, and he makes a promise to himself to be a better person.
He didn't forget me.
I was told by Ross that it's okay to remember the happy times, and if I want, I can go relive my college days when I'm in Heaven.
Then the vision went away.
I realized some very important things on this trip. Some were that the level of Consciousness of the area in general is very dark/dense (it makes science a religion and ignores Spirit, there also were icky upside-down stars with x's and v's by them spray painted everywhere). I did a great deal of work to remedy this.
I realized that I had to flee for my life with Mark, as the abuse and relationship were extremely toxic for me. So I never had closure.
I realized by my tears, both then, and also, when I was leaving Oakland--my involuntary ones--that my heart was broken by having to leave the place I loved so much. I loved it so! And in the interest of survival, I had to keep going. I didn't have the luxury to grieve.
Anthony helped me to see with new eyes what IS, and how the beauty I had seen back then was not here now. It was dirty, and a little frightening, and very run down. He said he felt sad for me that I lived at my first apartment (it was very ugly, dirty, and had like a cage of bars in the front--this was the one before I moved into Mark's). A cashier at the first Peet's confessed how economically the area was hard hit--and people had trouble in a big way. For example the apartment I had ($600) would now go for $3000 a month!
I needed MORE.
I needed MORE, to become who I am, to have all of the experiences I've had, and much as I would have wished to stay where I had been it was just not meant to be.
I must have cried many tears, back in the day when Ross and I were incarnate together. I must have had to flee for my life countless times after he passed. And I never got the luxury to grieve.
Trust in our Divine Plan--no matter how peculiar at the time it may seem, no matter how painful, is important because better things are always being sent to us.
As a close friend said, sometimes it's time to get out of the 'Comfort Zone'.
These two blog posts by others also help to explain how we are here for a reason that is good:
I could say more...like how I noticed how the Chez Panisse I love...doesn't help the homeless in ways we are aware of. And how the homeless, in People's Park, had supporters who asked, 'is poverty a crime?'
Well, not in itself.
But the drug use in that area sure frightens others enough to propose to close it and build something else on top, just this year they made the latest proposal.
So--I can SEE. I can see how the huge expensive apartments without rent control literally push people out on the streets.
And I SEE how if anywhere--the smartest people in the world right?--that this problem could be solved, and it hasn't...well...that's not encouraging about the skills of the smart people. Or the political leadership. And the community.
Ross says to go to sleep. I will. He's been with me but quiet, as I've been immersed in my lessons. I'm sad over a beautiful girl who was a classmate of Anthony, who has gone gender neutral. Why? Because her friends said she might be better as a boy. Knowing what I know, about middle school girls, it would be mean enough like when I was in middle school we told the effeminate boy who asked to play the flute. We knew what we were doing when we recommended it. There's no competition any more from a beautiful girl when you convince her she's possibly a boy. And she's innocent enough not to know how mean junior high school girls get. I think the world of her, she's always been fearless, and strong. Whatever her future holds, I pray that it's HER choice, from within, and not confusion from petty, jealous, mean and evil junior high school 'friends'.
I have good news too. Anthony told Jared he won't eat beef. We've been three weeks. And instead of being spiteful, Jared respects our son's decision. Because, as he told Anthony, 'he's his own person now'. I'm thankful for the support of Anthony's conscience.
Aloha and Mahalos,
Ross and Carla
The Reiki Doc Couple
Founders of Doctors With Reiki