On Pause

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Very recently, I had stopped by a gas station on my way to work to buy a breakfast burrito. Well, as I am preparing to open the door, there was a man who looked strangely at me. I wondered why. I am not a big preen queen, but I know I didn’t look that scary… then I realized it wasn’t me he was looking at. As I continue to write my Divine Wars trilogy, I am ever surprised at the closeness and love that I am experiencing on a daily basis with my guardian angels.

The man wasn’t looking at me, he was looking at one of my angel’s who appeared very big and frightening. And so when his eyes widened it had to be a surprise to see them. I say ‘them’ because I don’t really know how many were with me. I felt the presences of archangel Michael, but I couldn’t be sure. I almost felt a pang of jealousy that the stranger could see him, and I couldn’t. That’s how it is, I can sense and hear them – communicate fully with them – but I can never really see them. I think maybe it’s better that way.

However, going back to the man. I opened the door, and he carefully sidestepped me. I couldn’t figure out if maybe I was in danger, or something. The man looked a bit shady, but I try not to judge the book by its cover. I just want to remind all of you that your guardian angels are real. They love you and protect you always.

I wonder if they ever think we are selfish and spoiled humans? I know when I have my conversations with my angels they are very loving, gentle, and kind. In order to forge a relationship with your angels, it’s imperative that you not think bad or negative thoughts about yourself. You are not crazy, you are not insane or ‘losing it’. You simply are awakening… reach out to your guardians… they are real. They are really, really, real.

-Many blessings, Sandi

Death’s Rite

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All of life continues – even while death’s kiss is at others’ door – we continue. We get up every morning. We brush our teeth. We shower, we eat, we gather all of our things that we will need for the day. … And not necessarily in that order. We continue.

But death… death’s purpose is to watch us lovingly. Pity? Sadness? Regret? No. These things are not on death’s mind. Only one thing persists. Time. Time to takes us either by the hand, or fighting; hand-to-hand combat. It doesn’t care if we are ready, or if have ‘the house in order’. It smiles, and probably not because any of its job is amusing. Death has a job. It gets up every morning, and though it doesn’t experience time like we do, it still needs to do something.

So much of our time is spent on ‘the next thing’. We forget that the only thing that we should be doing, is living now. With more deaths that occur in my circle of friends, family, and acquaintances, I can only say this: Death doesn’t care. Death has a right to exist. And during this most distressing time, we perform our rites for our loved ones whom have passed over to the other side.

And what side is that? You know, the other side… the dimension some people believe in. The one where you aren’t really gone. Your soul continues its existence, but in a different dimension. The other side could be the one of heaven. And heaven knows, many people believe there is one. Do you think death differentiates between heaven and other dimensions? Do you think it cares? Death has a right to live on and do its deed, and we have the rites to celebrate that person’s life.

In the end, I thank death. One day, when it comes for me, I know it will be smiling for one reason – I won’t be fighting tooth and nail to go. I plan on living while I’m alive. Planning comes along with the business of living, but I mean really. Isn’t this the moment you are breathing, seeing with your eyes, absorbing this message: Your right is to live and be happy, and know you have a purpose. That’s it. It’s that simple. Take the dying out of living by celebrating EACH moment you are alive – Now.

-Many blessings folks, and Happy Holidays.

Sandi

 

 

The Forgotten Sacred

In the midst of despair at the end of the day, or even the beginning, do we express gratitude... (Image: Sandi)

In the midst of despair at the end of the day, or even the beginning, do we express gratitude… (Image: Sandi)

In this fast-moving, chaotic world we inhabit, have we forgotten the simple things? When we are exhausted from a hard day’s work, when we feel perhaps bombarded with burdensome tasks, and even failure, what do we reach out to for spiritual sustenance?

In the glass of wine we hold in our hands, or even a ‘stiff’ drink, do we hold it up in thanks to the source? (Higher power, God, Creator) Or do we wallow, or even drown in the liquid? In the midst of despair at the end of the day, or even the beginning, do we express gratitude, for having another day to try, and try again, even if it looks and feels like failure?

When we sit on our back porch, a park bench, or the curb of a sidewalk, do we revel in the breeze that carries the oxygen we breathe and need to survive? (Smog and all?)

Do we notice the lizards, bugs, ants, spiders, and all creepy-crawly things around us, and remember that they too have a right to live?

Every morning, the first thing I do when I rise, is offer up my glass of water to my source, and give thanks for another day – I sip from the cup – water of life; and despite the nightmares I may have suffered, or a bad night’s sleep, I can’t help but wonder what the day ahead brings, and all the other good things that might meet me around the corner.

What about you? What is your sacred? What do you give thanks for? Will you?

Life is sacred…

Fear Unborn

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Driving through Chile, NM. A gift; beings unknown… (Image: Sandi’s)

Gone are the days when you looked me in the face

and I turned away

somehow you knew you could stay

Gone are the days

when you stepped on my toes and made me

think it was me, all me

Gone are the days I shook your hand,

making deals you would tread softly and quietly

and Gone are the days I actually believed you

Because you never existed even though

I’ve been torn,

I

am

more

than

lucky

YOU WERE NEVER BORN

©Sandi Martinez

Chasing clouds

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When they take shape, be they be my map, or simply a reminder of a state of illusive grace, I must see. (Image: Sandi’s)

As I reap the rewards of writing and publishing Divine Wars; the Awakening, I am struck with the next phase of the next installment… this is a trilogy. A story about good and evil, but not the kind that the world may be familiarly intimate with.

When I say ‘rewards’, I don’t mean monetarily. I mean profusely inspirational. However, as I prepare to begin the second installment, I have run into some… setbacks. Not writer’s block, or inertia, just a pure lack of grounding as the story itself continues to take on a fascinating perpetual, moving, living, breathing, aspect of itself. It has a life of its own. I am invited to live it, though only in spurts.

I do feel as if I’m on a swing – a giant one – that never stops moving. In fact, the only way I can get on, is if I step onto something close to a giant ladder, and then hurl myself onto it like a gifted gymnast. By the same token, the only way I can get off, is to catapult myself into the air; the moving clouds my only compass. Perhaps a divine compass?

I only know this: in order to chase the clouds, I have to be willing to fall off the swing, even when I think I’m properly positioned on it. When they take shape, be they be my map, or simply a reminder of a state of illusive grace, I must see. I must keep my eyes open, even if my fingers rest near my keyboard. As my laptop sleeps and beats in tune with my heart. Even if I think nothing is happening, I know deep down, everything is taking the shape it must, and I have no control over it. I only know, the story takes shape in its own time, its own place, and dances to its own beat. I can only hope to keep in step with this lovely and sacred dance.

Pain and Grace

Unexpected beauty in the midst of hellish musings. (Image: Sandi's)

Unexpected beauty in the midst of hellish musings. (Image: Sandi’s)

There is no way I can honestly get away from the truth; it seems all kinds of cool things have been happening on my walks at work. Today, I was honored by this Monarch’s presence. During my walk, I had played a video about a vet who had filmed his heartbreak over the death of a kitten, on Facebook. Now, I’m not a Facebooker… Never have been, and never will be, but truly, I relish these kinds of posts. To see the vet, click Abused Kitten Passes Away.

There are subtitles for those who don’t understand the language he speaks. I was fuming by the time I rounded the corner of the parking lot near my office. But seconds later, I saw the butterfly. I wondered, WTF? Then I flashed back to his anguish – the vet – and thought, this man is so incredibly brave to express his devastation. He admits he’s no saint, but how can anyone who calls themselves human, do such a horrific thing?

This brings me to a few things I am grateful for: One, I thank God for people like the vet; everyday, they see horrors we could never imagine, and yet, also experience amazing miracles. Two, I thank God there are caring humans out there; they are the ones who take in stray cats, dogs, find homes for our larger animal friends, like horses, goats, etc… There are people like me who give free psychic readings to those who donate over $20 to animal rescue orgs, and so many amazing animal rescue organizations all over the world. And finally, to our faith, trust, and balls in forging forward in a world that is filled with evil and yet gets stomped out by the light every time.

The butterfly is quite an amazing creature (I say this with love). There are so many facets to the their beauty, I won’t spend too much time naming them. One thing remains clear: There is grace to be found in the ugliness of this world, and pain unmasked by simplicity, love, and cajones… BIG ONES.

Happiness, is it ephemeral?

In the end, happiness happens in the mind. Or does it? (Image: Sandi's.)

In the end, happiness happens in the mind. Or does it? (Image: Sandi’s.)

  1. Adjective: ephemeral – lasting for a very short time. Many beautiful quotes, songs, movies, books, art, and the like, define happiness. In the end, happiness happens in the mind. Or does it?

Look carefully at the image of the blood red beauty above, hanging off of a hollyhock. The center is quite breathtaking. It looks like a star or perhaps a sun? What about the dark reds around the center, that then turn light again? Does this flower know it is happy? Or is it just existing in its pure form? Yes, I retouched it so that the deep colors would be more defined. I focused on the center and sharpened it. But to be quite honest, I really didn’t have to work hard to do that. The flower did it all on its own.

I personally was profoundly affected by the deep and sensuous colors of this flower. It reminded me of parts of myself that have died, and been reborn. Where then, has happiness existed in that process? Is it something that happens moment by moment, or as a result of incredible happenstance that then fuels our hearts with hope?

I took this picture on my 15-minute walk at work today. During my walk, I touched every leaf I could get my fingers on; I brushed each branch ranging from weeds, to trees, though I couldn’t say what they were; only that I gave myself to those leaves as they lined the paved road I walked on. I opened up to greet them as if they were long lost friends or lovers. Every moment that went by as I held them ephemerally in my hands, felt like a brush with life; one I don’t take too much time to focus on. My focus admittedly, though not happily, has been one of death. Not because I have lost many loved ones in a short time-span. Just the small deaths I have experienced within myself.

This flower did something for me, that other things, people, words, community, have been touching within me – life. Within the closing comes the opening.

Death’s Greatest Gift; FREEDOM

A walk in the cemetery (Image: by Kimtastic)

A walk in the cemetery with a friend (Santa Fe National Cemetery: Santa Fe, NM)

Happy Independence Day everyone! Odd way to start out this entry – death? Freedom? The reality is, there are no fireworks with death. Unless of course there is unexpected death by stray sparks in a busy park… but no need to get morbid.

What I’d like to say is that there is death all around us in every form; in every way, every day. The leaves that fall off trees, allow for new growth to occur on those branches. The weeds we pull from our gardens, free up space for our vegetables and flowers to grow even more fully and beautifully. Once something is gone, it is replaced; there is an in-between. In between, there is freedom. A moment of emptiness, stillness, silence. Anything can happen in those moments. Sometimes it’s days, months, or years. That empty space is all about freedom.

Freedom leads to independence. I’m in a space just recently, where I have tons of freedom, but I can’t fully enjoy it, or act on it, until some things around me have an ending – a death.

Today, is a day we all celebrate Fourth of July, a federal holiday commemorating the adoption of the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776; the day that the United States formally declared its independence from Great Britain therefore achieving freedom from British rule. But who needs or wants a history lesson? To me, it always feels like so much more is celebrated in achieving and maintaining independence.

It’s about allowing myself to have and understand great gratitude and humility for all I have, all that I am, and for expressing inexpressible thanks to the men and women who have given their lives for us spoiled Americans, to continue on as we do.

So, if death in its scary and intimidating ways, becomes the avenue in which I find the paths that will truly lead me to my own freedom, then I can only say to myself, happy dying… because in the dying, there is living – and the happiness that lies in every corner waiting to accost me, in surprising and demanding ways…

(Thanks for the image Kim!)