four leaf clover

I have asked lately, for a miracle.
I ask with confidence because I have seen many.

I have jumped off a pole, over a gorge, and caught a trapeze
in mid air. The miracle existed, not in the moment of flight, or even in the falling to my death, instead it existed in my faith in another, a stranger.
As I stood, unable to move, I yelled for help, for someone to come get me.
A stranger in the crowd yelled that he would, and that he had, and that he was there with me, and I could use his courage to jump.

And I did.

I have traveled a mostly harried and tarried path, and survived. And although amazing, yes indeed, the miracle did not exist in my forward motion, or even in any goals I reached or failed to reach along my journey. The miracle existed in my voice, which I had lost, and found again, and learned to use, and speak out and honor my Self by listening again to my inner voice.

I have paddled out in strong currents, past the point of my own ability, and faced rip currents, a brush with a shark, and total physical exhaustion. The miracle did not exist in me making it back to shore, but in the talk with God I had out there against the blue line. I did not ask for strength, or a second wind, or even forgiveness for all the wrongs I had done. When faced with death, I was calm and relaxed and totally at peace with who I was…and who I had become, and that was the miracle.

I have seen the miracle of a sunrise and a sunset and the first breaths of a newborn, and the last thoughts of the dying. I have seen children living in shelter offer clothing to those living on the streets, and I have seen those same children give those same clothes to the elderly. Not in embarrassment, but in pride. I have seen the poor give to the very poor and the very poor help those, too poor to be seen and too weak to ask. Miracles come in all shapes and sizes and should never be dismissed based on our own ideals.

I have spoken directly to God about raising a child, and although a biological child was not in the cards, I have had the blessing of raising a child from one year old until now. (He’s almost five years old now.) I have asked for grandchildren and care when I myself am old and weak, and that too has been provided. A miracle.

I have seen many miracles, and you have too. They exist as true miracles every day, if we pay attention to what we ask for, and what is delivered.

So with that confidence I ask all of you to pray for the speedy recovery of a friend and family member. While like a lot of my family, this person is not related by blood, but more importantly by choice. In that way, she and her entire family are “More Than.”

Although extremely ill and bed ridden unable to speak, see or hear, she has changed the lives of nearly 1400 people, and likely thousands more. The spirit of this person, no matter how sick or healthy has united friends, family and strangers not only for her cause but for her son. She has brought attention to Sturge-Weber Syndrome and has had thousands offer prayers, support and love. Imagine the strength of character needed to accomplish this in a critical condition? A miracle.

And in the face of all the miracles I have witnessed, and all those you have seen, multiplied by the company this family keeps, I can’t help but foresee another miracle happening.

I ask that you all pass this essay on and ask for hope, good thoughts, positive energy and/or prayers for Team Kellie, and Kellie Kenney and her extended family to not only recover from this unexpected illness, but also unite an entire community in ways that can only inspire hope, peace and love.

Miracles happen every day. Can we all ask for one more? Collectively? I guarantee you we can move mountains, after all….Kellie has already moved them, we just need some space for her to walk through and come home.

http://www.sturge-weber.org/

Please visit the Sturge-Weber website for more information or join Team Kellie on FaceBook. All good thoughts and good people welcome!

Peace, Chris

www.fourleafclover.us

…and as it goes, sometimes I have more to say,
and sometimes less,
but no matter what, I stay true to my self, my Self and all I am.
So here goes….

The other night I dreamed,
that I was a star,
and among stars, I danced
and shimmered
and knew I was a miracle, and special.

For a few moments not only was I was amazing,
but I was in amazing hands.
It was though, but a dream,
and as it faded I found myself alone.
again.

I was not a star,
but a silly girl,
in a silly costume, that was not becoming
in an all too familar environment,
all alone.

For a brief moment, I turned to leave this dream like place
and space,
but then saw you, an idol, a star, a some One,
so I turned to you
for guidance, as you
were wearing a
silly costume too.

In a moment I turned to show you my ring,
a Mother’s ring,
filled with stones,
that had all fallen out,
all but one.

You said you knew someone that could help,
so I followed you,
into a dark place, a personal Hell,
knowing I was in costume, and you
a star
would be there with me.

Before I knew it, you were gone,
but not after introducing me to him,
my old friend.
His hair was much longer,
but instantly,
we knew each other.

He gathered the stones, and the ring and led me out,
of Hell,
but not in time,
to hear the taunts, and jabs
at my costume.
I turned, and wished to say nothing,
but instead spoke up
and defended me, to Hell
but I was only mad for validating my Self.

I turned knowing you were there,
but you were not.
And as I left
I knew Hell was talking behind my
back
but I did not turn around
again.

I left and found you,
walking
alone
an old friend
down an old road
and even though it had new houses
I knew where we were.

I was comfortable
at peace
and
finally
could
breathe.

I was,
afterall
safe.

No matter the costume,
the evil
the Hell
the comments, the insecurities,
I knew now
even though your house was blocked by Others,
that I was safe.

I asked if you needed directions
on your way back
but you said nothing.
Only smiled
and turned
peacefully.

I could not see you
but we both knew
you were
just
around the
corner
and it was okay to be
alone now.

I guess we all have angels
guarding us
walking us through the tough spots
the dangerous places
and the Hells
of our lives, our minds
our dreams
and our nightmares.

My angel,
on this night,
last night
led me to the safest place of all.
And even though I couldn’t see it
I knew I didn’t need too
for it existed
somewhwere
inside
in a place it would never leave.

Peace, Chris

www.fourleafclover.us

In many ways, it seems like lifetimes ago, and in many ways it was.

A few years back my family and I lost an uncle, a great soul and the kind of person that everyone would want to know. The kind that rarely swore, was loving, respectful, and grateful for his children and family. On a trip to Disney with his wife, children and grandkids, he closed his eyes, and never again woke up.

It was devastating to our family. A man so young, still working, with so much to offer…how did this happen, and why?

As we struggled to make sense of this unexpected loss, another circled the horizon and soon made her presence known. His wife, our beloved aunt, second mother, and kindest soul the world had ever known had grown tired. After decades of caring for her husband who suffered from Diabetes and her own breast cancer, she now had a relapse.

In a six month time frame, our close knit family would soon face another very difficult loss. She would not die in her sleep though. Her illness, much more painful and lengthy, tested the very core of all our faith and beliefs.

As we went, as a family from hospital hospice to home hospice, we valued each minute with her and did all we could to keep her comfortable and positive.

As days grew into weeks and the summer began to nearly fade into fall, her conditions worsened and as we stayed, in shifts, night and day, we began to learn about each other, our worth, our beliefs, and her, my Cioci Shirley, my second mother and best friend.

As her time here, on this physical plane was coming to a close, she left me with several definitive answers. None to be disputed, even if I did dispute her…which I didn’t…there was no reason to.

As quiet nights passed, and passed, and passed, they may have seemed endless to someone else, to me though, each were a gift. I would listen to each dream, story and vision, knowing that what she was seeing was a glimpse, speck and vision of the unknown, for now, for me.

Before she fell ill, she would tell stories of my Uncle coming to bed with her after he had physically passed. No one doubted that the bed sank on his side when he got in, and certainly no one questioned her when she could hear the TV on late at night, as he often dozed in his recliner.

Now, just weeks after, as I passed by that same recliner, in the dark, or by the light of the moon, the hairs on my neck would stand up and a chill would go down my spine. Each time. Every time. The hospice nurse would explain that all things have energy and his energy was still in that chair, just because his heart was no longer beating, his essence still remained, for whatever undetermined amount of time, it would, without question, remain. And it did.

While I chatted with my best friend one night, one very late night, I told her about this chair and she assured me by saying, “well, if he is there, you know he would never hurt you.” And that has made all the difference.

As Notre Dame began its season, and the Red Sox ended theirs, and the bright colors of the trees began to flourish, she left us. One calm, quiet morning, after a night of talking to me, she closed her eyes, and finally, went to those that had been coming to her for so many weeks.

As I remember those weeks, and that day, I write about, mostly to think, and remember her, but also to be with her on some level. As the sun begins to set outside my window, and a cool summer breeze blows in, I snuggle up a bit in her chair, her recliner and allow my mind’s eye to see the sights of that summer, hear the sounds of childhoods past and feel the energy that she left, in her chair, for me. Forever.

Energy then and now, has played and continues to play a part and who I am, who I was (no doubt) and yes, who I will become.

There is no doubt that energy exists, even to those skeptics…it just does. So who are we to say when that energy ceases ? A body ceases yes, when the heart and brain stop, but when does the energy from that soul stop, if ever…and so, when does energy from anything else stop, if ever?

I invite you to soul search here…dig deep, even those skeptics! If energy exists, and we know it does, and since we don’t know when it ends, if ever, I ask you…what would you use positive energy for…if you had it? If you could manifest a thought, what would it be?

With that in mind, please visit www.energymuse.com, check out the Guardian Angel bracelet and let us know what negative energy you could release from your life, and what positive energy you could bring in.

Trust me, it’s much easier to wear a bracelet or necklace than to carry around a recliner! I have worn Energy Muse for almost a decade now and been in touch again with the sea, been offered protection, given the power of manifestation to my sister, been grounded and so much more!!

What would you do, if you could not fail?

CONTEST RULES

To win the guardian angel bracelet with coin from Energy Muse Jewelry:

1. Check out Energy Muse Jewelry’s home page at http://www.energymuse.com/ and read the description of the guardian angel bracelet. (Use the search box at the top right corner to search for the piece.)

2. Become a fan of Energy Muse Jewelry on Face Book. http://www.facebook.com/energymuse

3 .Return to comment on this essay to share your story of strength and how you (have) or (want) to overcome an obstacle in your life. What would you do, if you could not fail? What would you use the positive energy of the guardian angel bracelet for?

4. After completing all three steps each comment will be judged based on their inspiration and creativity. One winner will be revealed Monday, June 7th at 3:00pm (PST).

Get that creative energy flowing! GOOD LUCK!!

Peace, Chris

www.fourleafclover.us

She never cried and almost never complained.
I guess that’s one reason why I was initially drawn to her,
she was my opposite.
She always represents fun days, warm nights, tranquility and lullaby’s.
As long as I can remember, each day with her was beyond fun, beyond silly and beyond any boundaries we had set.
All visits were worth remembering.
Always.

As I get older, and a little more tired, and a little more apprehensive,
about the kindness of strangers, uncertainty and unknowns,
I always know that she is familiar,
we are familiar,
and we have no secrets
from each other.

On days when I am broken hearted and broken down,
I know I am always welcome at her house.
When times are their toughest and true friends are hard to find,
I know I can always call on her,
and no matter her schedule, she will find time to listen.
Her kindness is always there to wash over me, making me forget,
at least momentarily,
whatever my sadness, tears and loneliness are.
With her, I am never truly alone.
She always offers a soft place to land.

When the sun is at its brightest, and nothing bad can enter into my peaceful place,
I also think of her, and visit.
With every bit of good news, I instantly think of her,
her company, her companionship and her consistency.
On these days we laugh, and play and enjoy the simplicity of each other,
purely and without abandon.
She always offers a soft place to sit.

As life goes, and time flies, I realize I have not seen her
in quite some time.
I pack my bag, grab my board, put the top down in the Wrangler and speed off down the all too familiar road,
to see her.

The moment I arrive though,
I know she isn’t happy.
Her mood is different…. dark and stormy, and even I,
her closest friend, dare to get too close.

As I get make my way to her, my heart begins to race.
I can’t remember ever feeling nervous around her before.
I inch my way closer,
I am now,
close enough to see her cuts,
close enough to see her pain.

As I get even closer to her, I can see that she has been beaten.
She has been bruised, and hurt.
For the first time she is unwelcoming and distant.

How long have I been gone?

She never cried, until that day,
and as her giant tears wash up on the black beach,
I feel her pain so deeply I sit on the hardened, cold sand,
littered with waste,
and listen to the painful tears, slide down my cheek.

Together, as friends do, we sit with each other,
offering the only comfort we truly can….
listening, love and loyalty.

As her cries hang in the air,
and then crash down,
with pain and rage,
I can only pray that her bleeding will stop.

Past days have found me with her,
sharing tears,
and now I have come to her,
and wonder if either of us will ever stop
bleeding
oil.

I look up to the sky, as I have so many times before
while in her house,
and ask for help.

As her pain becomes my own,
I begin to feel heavy and motionless
and I fear that I too
am dying.

I cry out but hear only my heart beat racing pounding I try to look ahead but see only thick, heavy air and my cries are drowned out by the angry tide crashing in pulling out whatever it can I look to the sky for help and feel my lungs heavier and heavier and fear this is the end I can no longer move ladened in thick oil and pain and anger I try to crawl away but realize there is nowhere to go

How long have I been gone….

Peace, Chris

www.fourleafclover.us

PS The next essay will include a contest with a wonderful prize from energy muse jewelry! Get your thinking caps on!!

PPS ALSO, I added lots of new pictures to the website! Check them out!!