WASHING DISHES

My daughter and her husband, both excellent chefs, invited me for Thanksgiving dinner. On my arrival, much to my delight, three of my grandchildren, ages 4-to-9, surrounded me as I sat on the couch. They talked non-stop. Each one had multiple tales to tell. I partook of their loving bounty.

As all three of my children know, I am not much in the cooking department. However, following the meal, I am great in the clean-up crew. In dish washing, I believe in a sink of hot, soapy water, another of rinse water and a dish towel. Today, my seven-year-old granddaughter, Azriela, pulled up a stool and helped me.

As we worked and talked together, I thought nostalgically of my childhood, the holidays and large family gatherings, with their accompanying meals and dirty dishes.

I fondly remember those times, standing around the kitchen sink, washing and drying the dishes with my Grandmother Ollie, my aunts and my mother. It was the time the women chatted and caught up on the family news.

Women commune together as they work in the kitchen, the quintessential hearth. There, they return to their primal essence, the giver of life and sustenance.

RELEASING EXPECTATIONS

Recently, Chris, my art teacher's son-in-law, photographed fifty of my completed paintings. Earlier Chris had seen some of my work and appeared enthusiastic about it. After Chris saw more of my pieces, he seemed excited about showing them to his friend, who owns an art gallery. I am smiling inside.

In my art's process, be it writing or painting, I must release any expectations of the outcome. My job is to surrender to the Divine Source and follow the path that opens before me. When I release all of my expectations, the Source takes me on grand adventures, which are beyond my wildest imagination.

WHEN THE MUSE SINGS, DANCE

I awoke on the morning of 11/20/11, which was actually noon, with a painting dancing in my mind's eye. I saw one bold, central, dark color flanked by a bright color. The painting occupied my mind throughout the day. One by one, the canvas size, 24"x30," and its colors, turquoise green and orange, were revealed to me.

It is currently 2:00 a.m., my time, on 11/21/11. The bare bones of the painting is on the canvas. I know the piece will require several layers. However, I can now rest. Whether it is writing or painting, I know, when the muse sings, I must dance.

LIES

I look for the good in all beings. Lying is foreign to me, and those who use lying as a means to navigate in the world is almost incomprehensible to me.

Yesterday, I received information verifying my suspicion that one of my patients had lied to me on numerous occasions. I am deeply saddened and disappointed by his behaviors. His ability to look me in the eye and lie is uncanny. In his perfidy, his performances were of Academy Award caliber.

Because of his lies, over the past eight months, he has significantly increased my stress level and wasted a great deal of my uncompensated time. At this stage in my life, my energy to help others in therapy is very limited. Perhaps another could have benefited from my time. It remains to be seen if he, on some level, has benefited by our work together.

I see a great deal of potential in this individual. At this point, I am unsure if he truly wants help and is willing to work to change his behaviors. Only God knows the answer. Time reveals all. I may not be around to watch his story's conclusion, but I am certain God brought us together for a purpose. It is not necessary that I know the reason.

HORACE - THE GARDENER

Horace has been with me two weeks. The bark collar has worked its magic. He sits down to receive food and is in the process of leash training. Horace is a big, bouncing, lovable kid.

However, for me to survive Horace's puppy hood, I must teach him a few manners such as:
1. It isn't polite to pounce on or knock over your source of home and sustenance.
2. Breaking any of your owner's bones is considered very poor form.
3. Sniffing your owner's privates is exceptionally rude.
4. And, of course, you don't belch or fart in polite company.

Today, I worked in the backyard to put the garden to bed for the winter. The two little dogs, Bodhi and Sophia, stayed inside. Since they are yappers, their absence gave Horace and me a little peace.

As I clipped, weeded and mulched, I discovered Horace is a very thoughtful gardening companion. As did one of my previous pit bulls, Greta, Horace protectively lingers nearby and surveys his domain. He occasionally oversees my work, which can be a strain on his manners. However, I see in him a budding gentleman, scholar and gardener.

J. EDGAR

Recently, I took a movie escape break and saw Clint Eastwood's superb movie, J. Edgar Hoover. The man's tyranny was well known. The movie portrayed many complex psychodynamic elements, particularly the psychopathology of Hoover's relationship with his mother. However, the most memorable theme for me was Hoover's homosexual relationship with his second in command.

Again, like Memphis, the movie portrayed the trauma of society's condemnation of people for their sexual interest or orientation.

There was the very poignant scene of Hoover's conversation with his mother regarding his fear of dancing with a woman. His mother reminded him of their relative, Daffy, who dressed in women's clothes and eventually committed suicide.

Very pointedly, Hoover's mother said to him, "I'd rather my son be dead than be a Daffy."

Another powerful scene was after Hoover's mother's death. He put on his mother's necklace and dress and allowed himself to grieve.

The debate, of the movie's fact or fiction and its various psychological themes, could go on ad infinitum and are of no importance to me. However, what saddens me most about the story, which is based on social reality, that any form or expression of love is forbidden in our society.

We, the members of the human race, must realize love is just another word for God.

IMPRISONED BY FEAR

Over the years, I have seen many people imprisoned by their fear. No matter how miserable they are in a job, relationship or situation they refuse to change. They are terrified of the "unknown."

I have seen individuals paralyzed in marriages. The only freedom they will know is death, unless their spouse bails out first. In the latter case, as painful as that is for them, their spouse is doing them a favor. They are being forcibly evicted from their self-imposed prison.

The only true solution I know to fear is prayer, prayer and more prayer. The Divine Source will reveal the path. If they resist, their pain usually intensifies. Some will explore beyond their bars. Others, will huddle in the corner of the living death of their cell.

Enjoy the adventure of life. The wide-open expanse of all that is invites you to the dance. Check your fear at the door.