Diana's Blog: Quirky Words and Book Reviews

December 17, 2008
It's in this book. It has to be. Yesterday I opened up THE ORDER OF THINGS to an answer I've long been seeking. And today, I've been through -- I believe -- every page in the book, and cannot find the same fact. No wonder. THE ORDER OF THINGS is jammed with facts. The author, Barbara Ann Kipfer, must be a genius. Over 140 IQ. Page 426.
I've been divorced for five and a half years now, and I constantly wonder -- and worry -- what age guy is okay. I've dated from 28 years old to 64 years old. The book says to take your age, and divide it by two, and add the number seven. If your date is older than that number, you are not cradle-robbing. Now, I can't seem to find the statistic in this book. So I google the fact, and find it is actually fairly common. Why did I not know that? It sure would have relieved a lot of stress. I have a lot more elbow room on the subject than I imagined.
But now the book has me riveted. It's a great resource for writers, trivia buffs, teachers. I didn't know the Twelve Days of Christmas started on Christmas and rolled through January fifth. Page 205. The eight reindeer -- Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid -- you knew those, but did you know that the last two Donner and Blitzen actually started out as Dunder and Blixem? Page 460. There was a $100,000 dollar bill -- really -- Woodrow Wilson was on it. The bill was discontinued in 1969.
There's religion -- the 12 Olympian gods, 7 Joys of Mary, 3 Graces, and the Nine orders of angels -- the first heirarchy is Cherubim, Thrones...and Seraphims. That one gives me pause. I'd heard of cherubs when I was growing up, but none of the others. I'd been brought up Unitarian, which basically means I knew a little about a lot of religions. Not unlike being a journalist.
It reminds me that I was in my early twenties when author Dick Sutphen (You Were Born Again To Be Together) hypnotized me, using, in some cases, sound effects. I felt/heard a whirring sound, and suddenly, I was being dropped off on this planet by a mother ship -- this was long before the time of Ancient Greece but earth people were somewhat civilized -- and I told the others on board that I did not want to be dropped off here. But it was my mission to help those on earth. I was told telepathically that as soon as I was left on earth, I would lose memory of all that I had known in this other place, which, seemed much more advanced than where I was headed, and yet I would viscerally remember my mission of loving and light. In the regression, I was asked my name. I laughed, and the sound was that of tinkling bells. I replied, "Some would call me Seraphina." And then I look at page 182 and read Seraphim: highest angels, of love, light, and fire.
That was a message to be love, be light -- no matter how we got here -- or why. So why am I worried about the age of guys I might date? Puts things in perspective.
Back to my book of trivia, aptly titled THE ORDER OF THINGS. See how neatly things fit together? There's even a list of the sayings on the Crazy 8 ball. You may rely on it.

Labels: . love, angels, Barbara Ann Kipfer, book review, Crazy 8, Dick Sutphen, light., seraphim, THE ORDER OF THINGS, Unitarian, YOU WERE BORN AGAIN TO BE TOGETHER

October 8, 2008
It is remarkable how we shift and change in a year, even more remarkable when using a book as a mirror. I plucked Jennifer Louden's book THE LIFE ORGANIZER: A WOMAN'S GUIDE TO A MINDFUL YEAR from the stacks tonight. Jennifer advocates not reading her book cover to cover, from front to back -- but opening it at random, playfully moving through.
She pops into my mind's eye. We first met about fifteen years ago -- she was hugely pregnant and cute, wearing her overalls and tugging her husband along on her book tour -- that was for THE PREGNANT WOMAN'S COMFORT BOOK. No, wait, we actually met earlier, when she toured for THE WOMAN'S COMFORT BOOK, at the time, a highly unusual approach to living, long before anyone spoke the word Life Coach.
So I open THE LIFE ORGANIZER and I find challenges that I didn't even notice the first time around. My way of dealing with discomfort has always been to distract myself, do something else. When I want to cry, I dance. When my feelings are hurt, I bury myself in work. When I hurt and my children hurt, oh I am so grateful that I get to help them -- and only them. WEEK ONE, Jennifer says ask yourself "what experience or feeling do I yearn for today?" And she wants you to sit there and allow the feelings to come up, then succumb to your yearnings. The old me was "What. Are you kidding me? I don't have time to sit still and figure that out."
And another question she asks "What would help my body feel listened to and loved?" I only had one answer for that. The old me "Simple answer. Sex." My therapist urges me to be good to myself. What does that mean? She sits with me while I cry through old feelings so they finally move out of my body and out of my way. The new me is getting to be not afraid to embrace fully -- to participate in huge hugs. The feeling me wants that full-on experience, much more than the old me needs to protect herself. And the new me wants to feel these pure, fresh feelings completely -- which really can't happen until I recognize the old, clogged feelings and express those. Be kind to yourself, Jennifer says. Can you do that? Speak kindly to yourself, dear.
Oh this book is wonderful. Every page in pastel watercolors. She asks "What is the gift in not knowing?" "What gifts offered to me by the bountiful universe am I ready to accept?" I know that when I read this book a year ago, I thought some of these questions were goofy, and I didn't have time for them. Now, I realize how precious and centering they are.
Here's a profound thought to ponder if you are becoming...but not "there" yet. "What would you do differently this week if you were willing to hang out in the gap between what you want and where you are?"
Loving choices.
One choice I made close to two decades ago -- every morning I do Julia Cameron's celebrated morning pages. She says to handwrite three pages -- just go, don't think. Every morning, I write at least one page, often two and three, and one more thing that I've incorporated lately. I write what I'm dealing with -- then I write "Angels?" And, they allow my hand to pen their wisdom. They remind me of a peaceful state of mind or I get a prediction or just kindness...often leavened with humor. I laugh, and go about my day...and I find they are always right.
I wouldn't be surprised if they guided me to choose Jennifer's book -- to remind me of those delightful paths we will travel -- if we free up to hear the true yearnings inside.

Labels: angels, Jennifer Louden, journal., Julia Cameron, THE LIFE ORGANIZER, THE PREGNANT WOMAN'S COMFORT BOOK, THE WOMAN'S COMFORT BOOK

October 5, 2008
My friend Gary Quinn has a new book -- ANGELS - BELIEVE AND RECEIVE -- coming out in January, and he sent a short excerpt recently via his newsletter.
"Our ideas and thoughts, " Gary writes, "often create our realities, because we give such power to them. Have you been hanging on to doubts and fears about the future? Those negative feelings are all made up in your mind. You are perfect just the way you are."
I used to have a hard time hearing his message when he would tell me that I am perfect. Immediately, I would throw a barrage of words against it -- I can't possibly be perfect -- and he would sweetly remind me that my angels love me just the way I am.
I remember this one time -- we were at the BEA -- Book Expo America -- in NY at the Jacob Javitz Center, and as we tore around from booth to booth, greeting authors he knew, he would break down my resistance, telling me to visualize myself in my own booth, telling me my angels adore me, telling me they have always been with me, even during the traumas as a child, teen, young adult. By day's end, I was laughing and I felt like I was flying.
When I was young, my angels -- I could see them, can see them -- would take me away during the worst of the violence, and the bright light I had entered would set me back down into my body when the raping was over.
There is such conflict. This morning, I felt like I was "not-enough," and I decided to meditate. When I connected with my angels, tears instantly rolled down my face, and I felt fresh and new and loved. How is that possible, I wonder. Our angels are always there -- ready to bring us into the light, which is also the higher vibrations Gary speaks of.
Gary says, "Dare to be great -- you have the energy and the help to achieve greatness, you only have to ask."
Ask! What do you want? In this very moment, in this Now, what do you want? Doesn't that make you smile!
"The Universe has everything you need and your angels will make sure that you receive it if you welcome them into your life. Most importantly, banish the thought you are not worthy -- you too deserve gifts from the Universal force."
Gary and I met when he was doing interviews for MAY THE ANGELS BE WITH YOU -- and then, a few years later, he sent me an electronic version of his manuscript LIVING IN THE SPIRITUAL ZONE for my opinion. I loved it.
Gary is for real. I've never heard a false note from him. If he says you are perfect, and to welcome your angels into your life so you will receive the blessings you desire, believe him. That time we raced around BEA in NY, Gary Quinn was walking his talk.

Labels: angels, ANGELS - BELIEVE AND RECEIVE, BEA, Gary Quinn, LIVING IN THE SPIRITUAL ZONE, MAY THE ANGELS BE WITH YOU, transcending the trauma

September 11th, seven years later...
On a somber day such as this, it doesn't feel quite right to review a book that has as its roots the destruction of New York -- even while it is literary and well-researched, and even while it is about the books, movies, and art that have targeted Manhattan for hundreds of years. At the same time, when I received Max Page's THE CITY'S END: TWO CENTURIES OF FANTASIES, FEARS, AND PREMONITIONS OF NEW YORK'S DESTRUCTION a few days ago, it brought back childhood memories.
My grandmother, an RN in the ER at Lenox Hill Hospital for decades, lived on the Upper West Side from the time she was twenty-something until she passed nearly seventy-years later. I lived with her until I turned school-age, and my mother transplanted our little family to the Jersey suburbs. It took just twenty minutes to get back into the city to visit my grandmother.
I remember when the Empire State Building was the tallest on the Manhattan skyline, and when there was talk of building something taller. I vividly remember discussion that the towers would be too tall, that they couldn't possibly be structurally sound, that they wouldn't last. Nevertheless, I saw the space in the NY skyline fill in with the towers, and they were gorgeous. But I kept the sense that the towers were as permanent as the lights today that ceremonially fill in the space where the twin towers once stood before 9/11 . When I looked at the newly-constructed towers, I saw, instead the space.
A couple of years before 9/11, my two sons, and then-husband and I visited NY -- a homecoming for me after more than a decade. A first time for my sons. We took elevators and stairs and stood at the very top of the World Trade Center, our hair blowing in the wind, a magnificent 360-view of the city. We were charged with amazement and power and vertigo.
Even with this, the sense that the towers would vanish remained. I can't explain it -- childlike stubbornness? A prescience? Comics, some of which are beautifully depicted in Page's historical book?
The morning of 9/11, I walked into the gym just after 5:30am Pacific time. 8:30 Eastern. I got on the treadmill, started it rolling at a comfortably fast walking pace.
Moments later, like everyone else in the room, I was stunned as I looked up at the bank of televisions, all showing the same bright blue NY sky and billowing clouds, flames, terror. The same shot of the destruction and devastation wrought by the hijacked Flight 11 over and over and over. It became hypnotic.
That easy walking pace -- that became hypnotic as well. A vision appeared to me -- a vision I would write about, which would be sent around the world in several e-newsletters over the next few days.
This vision was more real than the treadmills and the televisions.
In this vision, my grandmother came to me, dressed in her RN uniform. She told me she and many others were ready to help. She waved her arm for me to look again at the scene. I looked and saw a solid rosy hue about three-feet above the streets of Manhattan. She bid me look even closer, and I realized that what I was seeing was a field of angels spread wing to wing. The rosy hue was the love they were emanating.
The vision held steady -- and at that moment I understood that out of that cruel tragedy could come a world that embraces love.
The rosy hue of thousands of angels wing to wing. Just imagine.

Labels: 9/11, AND PREMONITIONS OF NEW YORK'S DESTRUCTION, angels, FEARS, grandmother, Max Page, rosy hue., THE CITY'S END: TWO CENTURIES OF FANTASIES, twin towers, World Trade Center