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  1. To Baxter’s Pep Squad: Baxter’s Many Gifts

    Last Spring our foster-turned forever dog Baxter successfully underwent his heartworm treatment. By summer, however he developed a serious skin condition; he was so itchy that he scratched his belly raw. Not wanting to put him on medications I kept changing his diet and that meant frequent trips to the pet store called Phydeaux, located in Chapel Hill.
    One day I was driving into their parking lot a few minutes before closing time, when I noticed another Nissan Leaf. There was plenty of parking space, but I was determined to squeeze my Bluebell between the other Leaf and the bushes framing the edge of the parking lot. Never miss out on the rare opportunity of having two Leaf’s parking side by side!

    I stepped out of my car still beaming from the delight of discovering yet another electric car. I looked up and noticed a gentleman and a child standing on the sidewalk.
    “Yes, we love our car, too,” smiled the gentleman at me.
    “Oh, it’s your car!” I exclaimed surprised.
    “I so much would like to have a chat with you, but the store is closing in a few minutes,” I added as I backed into the entrance of Phydeaux.
    When I left the store, the man was just walking the girl toward the car. We started to talk, sharing our Leaf experiences. After he strapped his daughter into the car seat and sat in his car we kept talking through his rolled-down window. At some point he gave me his business card and mentioned that he is the president of the Triangle Vegetarian Society. I could not believe my ears. I told him that we are vegetarians, too. He said it was too bad we did not meet earlier that day. He and his daughter just left the restaurant next door, after trying out their new vegetarian menu for free. But he said that I should look into attending the Society’s vegan Thanksgiving Feast, the biggest one in the US, held in Downtown Durham on Thanksgiving Day.
    Out of the blue, something made me ask if he knew Dr. Gil, my doctor of Eastern Medicine.
    “Oh, Dr. Gil, he is our friend,” answered the gentleman, with a broad smile spreading on his face.
    “Oh, holy…no way that you know him!” I exclaimed, the apologized profusely for by outburst.
    “I first met him at the American Dance Festival performance,” he started to explain, “Dr. Gil seemed to be lost, and I helped him out. Since then he has become our friend, and has also treated some family members.”
    “Well, I don’t have a business card to give you, but I have a copy of my memoir, and I wrote about my experience with Dr. Gil,” I offered a copy of my book, which he graciously accepted.
    “Hope to see you at Thanksgiving!” he said and glided away silently in his white Leaf.

    It turned out Baxter was allergic to pollen, and wiping him off with a damp rag each time he visited the outdoors helped greatly. And after the cool weather settled over North Carolina, his skin healed completely.

    Baxter has brought so many wonderful people, all these great new opportunities and so much love into our lives! When we adopted him, I thought we were only getting a four-legged companion for the girls. I should have known better, the ones before Baxter also brought much joy and surprises, including the greatest of all: the gift of writing.

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  2. The Measure of Success

    “Saving Grace” worked wonders on my throat, I got through my lecture without needing to take any break other than for a few sips of water.
    As a guest lecturer, my talk was part of NC State’s Green Chemistry and Engineering course. I was very excited to share our experience in Green Chemistry, however around halfway through I noticed some students in the back of the room talking to one another, and another student in the middle row struggling, mostly unsuccessfully, to stay awake. The professor’s stream of questions still kept me going: I had at least one person interested in my company’s effort to make Medicinal Chemistry more sustainable.

    When I was done, the professor thanked me, then invited the students to ask questions. One hand shut up and I anticipated a challenging inquiry. The student with the raised hand stopped chewing her gum for a moment and yelled out her question.
    “Homework?”
    “No, there is no homework,” replied the professor with a hint of disappointment in his voice.

    The students packed up and started streaming out of the classroom. One guy, who had been sitting in the first row to my left and mostly out of my vision during my talk, stood up and stepped forward.
    “I wanted to thank you for coming and talking to us about your work,” he started, “I always had this opinion of ‘Evil Pharma’, but today you helped me change my mind.”
    I have a friend in Hungary,” I answered, “her name is Andrea. She was diagnosed with leukemia 10 years ago. She is still alive because of a drug she takes every day. It is called Gleevec, made by Novartis. My father had leukemia over 30 years ago. All they could do for him was blood transfusions and painkillers.”
    “We are really trying to do good, help people, save lives,” I added.
    The student looked me in the eye, quietly nodded once, then slowly stepped away.

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  3. Saving Grace

    Since the middle of September I had this nagging cough. I was constantly hacking to keep my throat clear, alternating with deep coughs to liberate my heavy lungs. Week after week, I just could not shake the constant irritation. Finally on October 7, the day before my scheduled lecture I had enough. I drove to Whole Foods to get some herbal mixture that would allow me to speak uninterrupted for an hour.
    I was relieved to find a store clerk in the herbal isle. After pointing out various products on a shelf, she paused for a moment, turned around and motioned toward the bottom shelf on the other side of the isle.
    “That spray down there, a very popular item,” she said.
    I bent down to pick up one of the glass bottles. On the label it read:

    Singer’s
    Saving Grace

    Honey
    Lemon
    Soothing throat spray

    “Saving Grace?” I read it out loud in amazement.
    “Yes, that’s the one,” she replied.
    “Oh, that’s too funny!” I exclaimed. “My name means Grace.”
    “This is it!” I declared and marched away holding the bottle high up in the air.

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  4. A Quick Hello from Sugar

    At the end of Nedda’s communications with Baxter I asked her is she could say hi to Sugar and Red, both in spirit. Nedda picked up on Sugar’s energy right away, but Red was nowhere to be found.
    “Oh, that’s just Red, always aloof,” I sighed.
    “Hi Sugar,” Nedda said.
    “She says hi! What do you want to tell her?”
    “How is she doing?” I asked.
    “Totally fine! Lots of fun playing around!
    “Did I chose the right time to let her go?”
    “She was ready to go, she was loosing control of everything, she says.”
    “I want to thank her for calling me.”
    “She did what? Nedda asked.
    “Called me on the phone.”
    “I certainly did! -answered Sugar through Nedda.”
    Did my father help her?
    “I’d rather you think that I did it all by myself!”

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  5. Baxter’s Story

    I talked to Baxter today. Unfortunately I still have a hard time talking to animals directly, and sorting out the source of information, so I asked Nedda, my “dog whisperer” to help me talk to him.
    It started out rough, Nedda had a hard time tuning into his energy. Baxter did not want to talk to her, and did not want to be seen. Nedda only sensed a dark energy. She asked me to reassure Baxter and explain to him what’s happening. After my pep talk, and Nedda taking a few “steps” back, he slowly started to come out. I asked if he likes living with us. He said he was not sure that he was staying. He said he was scared. After a few minutes Nedda gained enough of his trust that he told us why he was scared. Nedda said she could see a man bending over him and beating him with a rolled up newspaper.
    “Oh, Nedda,” I replied,” that was not newspaper, that was a stick. He is deathly afraid of sticks and I had suspected that someone had hurt him.”
    “They wanted me to fight, that’s why they hit me, he says.”
    “He is sobbing now. Grief, anger, fear, shame…he is starting to let it all go…He is feeling better now.”
    “Let me ask him how he feels about other dogs he met recently,” Nedda said.
    “He does not know how to relate to them, how to make friends.”
    “Why does he urinate sometimes, when people pet him?” I ask.
    “He says he knows not make a mess in the house, he tries very hard to be a good dog, but he is scared when people bend over him.”
    “He seems to like me…”
    “He is taking a chance with you, he says.”
    “Did he like the party?” (then I explained to Nedda about Baxter’s party last Friday).
    “He did not understand why everyone was talking about him. It was almost too much love to take in.”
    “Does he like it when I give him Reiki?”
    “It makes him sleepy, he says.”
    “Oh, yes! He falls asleep in my arms!”
    “That’s good, Baxter, it helps you relax!” Nedda tells him.
    “How does he feel about Kati?”
    “Oh, he just gave me that look, when a teenager is in love…He loves her so much!”

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  6. Baxter’s Pep Squad: Deep Connections

    Yesterday evening we celebrated the end of Baxter’s heartworm treatment and three months of restricted activity by throwing a party for him and everyone involved in his rescue. I finally got to meet the person who took him off the street and got him medical help for his injuries. A few minutes into the gathering it became clear that there is so much more connecting us to each other, than caring for a dog. She mentioned that a long, long time ago she used to work for GSK, with biostatisticians. Shocked at what that might mean, I turned to her immediately. “Did you know Paige? Paige Plagge? I asked, but before I could finish, she almost burst into tears.
    “Of course I knew her, I tried to get her help. I knew there was something medically wrong with her.”
    “Mary found her. Paige never missed a day of work…” It was such a long time ago…Twenty years…?

    At that point I was holding my face in my palms, trying to keep the tears back. “Her bench is my healing place, I go there almost every day…”
    I left the room and returned with a copy of my book. I told her that I would like her to have my book. I then opened it to the chapter “The Bench.” There is one more chapter, more amazing things about the bench, I told her. She took one look.
    “I can’t read it now, I would just start crying…”

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  7. A Promise To Joshua Bell

    In the evening of Nov 2, Kati and I were standing at the entrance of Memorial Hall in Chapel Hill, waiting for the doors to open. Kati, at age 12, was one of the youngest among the hundreds of people.

    She was looking around with amazement. “I had no idea Joshua Bell has so many fans!”

    A gentleman standing in front of us turned around.

    “Are you a fan of Joshua Bell? he asked her.

    “Yes!” Kati answered.

    ” Would you like a T-shirt and an autographed picture of him?”

    “Yes, of course! she exclaimed.

    The man, one of the violinist’s promoters opened a bag and started handing out his gifts to Kati. We couldn’t believe our luck, getting these items for free, then seeing them lined up for sale on the table by the wall.

    After the concert Joshua Bell appeared in the foyer to sign his CDs.  Kati desperately wanted to meet him and begged me to buy a CD, but I did not have any cash with me.

    “Let’s just get in line toward the end, and maybe he will still shake your hand,” I proposed.

    Just before we got to his table, Kati opened her purse and pulled out her harmonica. When it was our tun, he shook our hands with a warm, radiant smile.

    Kati placed the the plastic case with the harmonica in it in front of the musician.

    “What’s this?” he looked up with an incredulous look on his face.

    “It’s a harmonica!” she declared.

    “I think she would like you to sign the case,” I added.

    After a moment of hesitation he signed it. When he was done, he slid the harmonica toward us. Kati took a step back, straightened her body, lifted her chin up and looked down with pride. “It is a great honor to have met you!” she said to him. Surprised by the force of her presence, Joshua Bell lifted his gaze to meet hers, and I suddenly saw a new light in his eyes. “What’s your name? he asked the child standing in front of her idol with absolutely no fear and reservation. He was now looking at Kati with a deep understanding. He recognized it! He saw her shining soul that is ever ready to share all that she is, with everyone she meets, including Joshua Bell. He saw himself in Kati’s eyes and Kati saw herself in his.

    “Next Fall I will start taking violin lessons in school!” Kati declared.

    “It will be a lot better than this,” he smiled, and handed the harmonica back to Kati.

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  8. Cover Story: Part 2

    Two posts ago I wrote about how my immediate family ended up on the covers of my new book. The vision came 3 years ago, then two more years of writing and finally this winter I was ready to send it all out into the Universe. There were only two problems.

    “It doesn’t look like a real book, Mom! declared Kati. “You need a picture to cover the whole front, not just in the middle, between the title and subtitle. It looks like you just used a template. I don’t like it.”

    “But I took a landscape shot instead of a portrait. And Elena, who supposed to symbolize me at age 3, is now 7. I cannot just grab her and Daddy, drive to Chapel Hill, then tilt the camera and take another picture!”

    “It is just not good enough!” she answered.

    The second problem was, that I knew Kati was right. But how can I fix it?

    A few weeks later I was sitting in my car, waiting for Kati to finish her dance class, when I started thinking about the cover again. “I cannot retake the picture!” I kept repeating in my head. Then suddenly I heard “But you can take another one. Go back to the same spot, tilt the camera and take a winter picture, for the missing background.”

    Next day I drove back to the wooden bridge, waited until some clouds drifted in, then snapped the picture. It finally all fell into place. Present became the window into Past.

    Sometimes your spirit guide is a ragged stuffed animal, and sometimes it is a critical preteen, who snaps at you: “It is just not good enough!”

     

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  9. Expectations

    The Wood Thrush behind the house is just starting up her evening repertoire before she nests for the night. Cool breeze is drifting in through the windows, I cannot believe it is June! I went for a lunchtime walk today wearing a sweater. It has been a crazy Spring, with temperatures barely making out of the seventies. I swear there is a giant umbrella over North Carolina that keeps the scorching rays away.

    May also brought exhaustion. I had a hard time getting through each day, then spent 10-12 hours in bed, refreshing sleep still eluding me. Something was up; but it was not me.

    I have been reading spiritual blogs heralding the expansion of consciousness into 4D and 5D living. Changes, unseen, untouchable, are happening right now and everywhere. What does that mean? Waking in molasses most of the days, to me it seemed that even 3D living was slipping out of my reach. Then on the first day of June something broke open. Yet another perceived betrayal finally pushed me over the edge. It was painful, but I came out of the other end with a new freedom.  This is one of my biggest lessons so far: learning to be free from laying expectations on others. And letting people live free from my expectations. A huge shift.

    The significance of this resonates deeply with me, this great lesson that I needed to assimilate. I can now see clearly how people lined up around me to consistently “fail” my expectations. All according to plans!

    I love math, so here is an easy formula to summarize:

    Happiness = satisfaction ÷ desire

    No desire does not mean not having preferences. It means to be at peace with all outcomes. No desire also means dividing by zero, resulting in infinite happiness. Which, I venture to guess, is not possible in a human form.

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  10. Cover Story: Part 1

    Ever since I started recording my spiritual experiences in May, 2010, it was clear to me that some day they will end up in a book. About two months into writing I was lying in bed, trying to go to sleep when the title and the subtitle popped into my consciousness. A few nights later I had a vision for the front and back covers. I realized that my younger daughter, Elena was about the same age as I was, when my father passed away. I saw Elena and my husband walking away, hand in hand, my husband leading my daughter on a path. I then saw another picture with my older daughter Kati and Chad walking further down the same path.

    Next Sunday the four of us headed to one of the parks in Chapel Hill for the photo shoot. The path from the parking lot took us across a bridge, then into the woods. I asked Elena and Chad to walk in front of me so I could take some pictures. Next I took pictures of Kati and Chad walking away. I flipped through the dozen pictures, but none of them felt the right ones. A man and a child waking in the woods, hand in hand. Not enough to catch attention. I looked back toward the parking lot and noticed the wooden bridge again, the one we had crossed. That’s it! “Everyone, back to the bridge!”

    I was taking pictures of Elena and Chad, when Kati started to whine by my side. “Mooom! Lacy wants to be in the picture!” Lacy was Kati’s bunny, who was more than a just a stuffed animal. Lacy went everywhere where Kati went. Lacy, the once pink, now mostly gray bunny, was Kati’s spirit guide.

    “Oh, Kati! Lacy does not need to be in every…” Wait a minute! Of course! Lacy needs to be in the pictures! In both of them. Elena will hold Lacy as “I” and my “Dad” start crossing over the bridge. And Lacy will be held again, by Kati, to symbolize an older me, still walking with my Dad.

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