Kisses on Your Fingertips

Before we love with our hearts we love with our imagination. -Anon

I am thinking about you, I am thinking about you, I am thinking about you. I am thinking about kissing your fingertips. Kissing your finger tips. Kissing. Your fingers. Tips. I am kissing kissing your palm. I am kissing your wrist. I am kissing the skin just inside your elbow. Oh yes.

You don't even know it but I know you can feel it, you who seem to be a million miles away. I see you in my bedroom. I see you in my bed. I see you on the right side. I see you on the left. I see you under me. I see you over me. I see you. I feel you. I smell you. I taste you. I welcome you.

You are in my bed. You are in my bath. You are in the hall. You are in the kitchen. You are in the garden. You are in my car. You are my holding my hand. We are walking up the steps to be welcomed in. I imagine every moment in infinite detail and I smile. I smile. I smile.

I am kissing your finger tips. I am kissing your palms. I am laying your hand against my cheek and looking deeply into your eyes. I am listening to your words, watching your lips, the curl of your tongue, the pulse in your throat. I am listening to your story, listening to your day, listening to your life. I am open and receptive. I drink you in.

We are dancing in the living room. We are swaying in the breeze. We are spooning in a hammock. We are walking down a path. Our steps are in rhythm and we match each other's stride, and in you I take my hope, in you I see my pride.

I am thanking my angels and thanking my guides. I am kissing your fingertips, I'm grateful to be by your side.

Overheard

I had sushi last night
It made me think of you
It's so good
but it's so expensive.

kgr, 1988

Transformation

From the Altar Egos Series:
"Positive Affirmations to Heal a Nation"
Copyright kgr 2004

10 Things Anyone Can Do to Promote Peace

1. Smile at people you don't know
2. Share your wealth when people ask for help
3. Give hugs generously
4. Play win-win games with children
5. Sing and dance
6. Drive less and exercise more
7. Meditate quietly
8. Listen deeply
9. Speak truthfully even if your voice shakes
10. Acknowledge the impermanence of life

Riding the Rapids

This summer I went white water rafting for the first time. The opportunity arose as a chaperon to my daughter's eighth grade class, who was taking the extensive field trip on the American River. I have loved being a parent at Tierra Pacifica, and have always enjoyed my parent participation hours either as the math tutor or art teacher, but this was definitely the way to end the year in the proverbial splash.

23 teenagers and half a dozen adults set forth on a Wednesday morning for a 3.5 hour trek from Santa Cruz to Coloma. While I had diligently google-mapped the directions and had multiple handouts in the car, I was quite content to put my faith in just following the driver ahead of me as we ventured forth. Little did I know that the soccer mom before me was actually the speed demon from hell, and not only did I suffer from mild heart attacks as the speedometer crept well past 90, but ended up with a ticket for toll evasion as we all gleefully filed through the carpool lane, ignoring the notices that privileges had already ended at 10:00 am.

Somehow we all convened at Marshall Gold Discovery State Historic Park, where after a picnic lunch we hiked to the river to pan for gold. Who knew this could be so much fun? Sitting in the blazing heat, swirling sand and stones in my black plastic pan, the cool river running over my body as kids played and splashed, gossiped and flirted. The water was sparkling with promise, and I filled a small vial with teeny gold flakes, larger chunks of copper, and pretty stones that caught my eye.

After just enough time for a few folks to catch a sunburn, we meandered forth to our campgrounds. After setting up tents and letting the kids squabble over bunk mates, a troop of us set off for the pool. There, another large group of kids waded, apparently from Aptos, our neighboring town. Phone numbers were exchanged while popular girls feigned indifference, the geeky guys puffing out meager chests.

Dinner proceeded smoothly - I must take a moment to hail up Mr.T, the 7th & 8th grade teacher, who was doing an admirable job of holding the helm while running the crew. The kids wanted to run off into the dusk, but the promise of s'mores kept them close to the campfire, and indeed, practically only the adults slept in tents that night, more and more sleeping bags appearing around the fire circle.

Thursday morning I awoke ridiculously early, as is the nature of camping. I lay awake for what seemed like a long time, finally rousing myself and splatting a mosquito against the tent wall, my own blood smearing the canvas. Ah, the joys of nature. Re-wetting my contacts and pulling on clothes, I stumbled from the tent, blearily saying good morning to the other early folks who had added a log to last night's embers.

After finding a clean bathroom but no water for showers, I meandered around the campsite, fully in my own little world. Suddenly a red hot Honda Element pulled up next to me, the driver rolling down the window and uttering the sweetest words I could ever hear: "Do you want to go get coffee with me?"

Without a second thought I hopped into the passenger seat. "What time is it?" I asked my new best friend, come to bring me to salvation, or at least caffeine.

"5:20am. There's got to be something open somewhere..." replied Rebecca. For being the proverbial crack of dawn, I noticed that Rebecca had on some damn good lipstick, and somehow found myself swapping intimate details of life's loves and loss as we cruised Lotus (pop.423) for the seeming one and only bakery catering to the fishing folks and mocha moms in the area. We snarfed a jalapeno-cheese croissant that had been heated to melt-down in the microwave, then preceded back to camp with plenty of espresso in our veins.

Breakfast was in full swing, much to my surprise, but at least my kid had less mosquito bites than I expected. After clean up we met for safety instruction, got our gear (paddles, life jackets, helmets), then proceeded down to the river to our boats.

Don't get me wrong - This was no baby-sitting expedition. My kid went with the other teens, while I was relegated to the "grown-ups." Indeed, I was truly astonished at my daughter's independence, endurance, and stamina. Honestly, the real reason I went was because she does not even like getting her face wet in the pool, let alone cruising full steam down class 3 rapids. The main reason I decided to go in the first place was the feeling of, "I've got to see this for myself."

She literally blew me out of the water. Balancing on the side of the boat, jumping during the swimmers rapids, spraying me hard in a water fight - she is 180 degrees different from myself at that age. I felt fully confident that she could take care of herself, and found that I could stay fully present with no worries, whatsoever.

For the next 6 hours we explored 14 miles of twists and turns in the river. The main lessons were to put our back into it (rather than arm muscle) and to synchronize with our partners. Indeed, "Synch or swim" became our motto, as we navigated the rapids, paddling with our might equally against surging foam and empty air, striving to maintain our continuous rhythm. We'd high five our paddles after successfully completing a run, slapping our oars beaver style on the water.

A client of mine had recently affirmed life as "paddling down stream". I thought about this as I strained and pulled when we back paddled and spun circles, surging during the turbulence as well as the times we were gently dipping into more placid pools. We navigated the fierce waters with flavorful names like Trouble Maker, Haystacks, Satan's Cesspool, Son of Satan, Bouncing Rock and Hospital Bar.

Finally we reached the lake, where our six rafts were tugged by jet ski to the docking area. A school bus picked us up to take us back to camp. Between bursts of We are the Champions and every single verse of 99 Bottles of Beer shouted at the top of their lungs by some rather stirred up adolescents, I pondered my latest adventure. I loved watching these teenagers with their new found independence, navigating emotional turbulence and tempestuousness of the life-stream itself. I took myself out of my comfort zone, had an adventure and came back home. Now, the sight of the round rocks on the river bottom, a new understanding of "currents" and a particular pale green flecked with gold still color my dreams each night.

Earth Day

It was Celebrate Earth Day
And I was wandering the booths
Demonstrating solar ovens
Here in sunny Santa Cruz

Eating fresh baked chocolate chip cookies
Heated up by just the sun rays
Sipping Mountain Brewery organic beer
Learning about more sustainable ways

Whole Foods and New Leaf
Hand out reusable grocery bags
Local teachers, artists and crafts
Use wool, buttons and rags

Pockets of music seemed to
Fill up any empty space
I walked up to your tent
You met me with an embrace

There is no doubt in me
When our bodies fit together
There is no denying
This feeling light as a feather

We held each other
Just that little bit too long
And I was surprised to find
I had a new heart song

Reducing despair,
Recycling the past
Reusing my emotions
To make something that lasts

But the moment I come back to
On this sunny Earth day
Was that you got up to greet me-
And you met me half way.

kgr april 2009

Dog Medicine

(This was written a few years ago, repost by request...)

I just had the trippiest experience. Last night as I was coming home, I noticed a dog in the middle of the street. Big white dog, bit bigger than a lab, with a brown squishy face, and deep brown eyes. A group of teenagers were telling him to go home, but it just kept limping along. As I pulled into the driveway, he came over and was real friendly, wearing a busted collar, fixed with duct tape, and no tag. I told him to go home, but it just looked confused & whined at me. I thought hmm, dog medicine, what message are you bringing me today?

I went inside & called Animal Control, but just got the machine. I went for a walk, and coming back, the dog was in the middle of California street, about to get hit by a car! I hurried over, and took him back to my house. My neighbor said she had seen him wandering around the day before too.

I put the dog in the backyard, much to the cat's dismay. I gave him some water and cat food, which he ignored, much to my surprise. He put his nose in my lap and left the biggest puddle of drool imaginable. Yuck.

He had a sore on his leg, and kept shaking and then would collapse. I called Animal Control again, and this time got through, and they said they'd send someone right over. A few minutes later the dispatcher called back, and asked me if I would drive the dog over to the 24 hour vet/clinic in Soquel, since they were about to go off shift. Having nothing better to do, I said sure.

The dog hopped into the car pretty easy, but it was one BIG dog, and right away was spattering the car with drool. I mean, it was GROSS - I pulled a towel from the back to drape over the seat & hand brake, but literally, it was just streaming out of his mouth, in huge puddles along the dash, and my right arm.

Since it was around six, I didn't want to take the freeway, so I took Soquel all the way in to avoid traffic. Around Morrissey, I was just freaking on how much the dog was drooling, when I realized, it wasn't drooling - it was foaming. It was foaming at the mouth. Suddenly I remembered being told as a child never to approach friendly wild life, like a raccoon or squirrel, because it meant one thing. Rabies.

Yes, I was in a car, with a dog, with RABIES!

I had been talking to the dog all along, petting his head and reassuring it, and now I started singing. I knew if I went into fear, the dog would know and maybe bite me. Part of my mind was calculating how to pull over, stop the car, and get the hell out. Another part was so glad I just got my new health insurance card, and Dominican Hospital was on the way. I'd always heard that rabies shots hurt real bad because they do it your stomach.

So instead of going into fear, I went into love, and just kept singing to the dog, a little nonsense tune how if this dog was my dog, his name would be gazpacho. "Spacho dog, Spacho dog" I sang. He just kept drooling beyond belief, and looking at me with trusting eyes. He would sit up, and then collapse against me. I pet his head, thinking about how rabies eats the brain. Poor thing.

I got to the vet clinic, and Spacho tried to run across the street again. I took him in, and they said they would have to put him down in order to test for rabies. I went home and cried. Poor little Spacho dog. It was just a tangent in my day, but for some reason I was a part of his path, at the end of his journey.

Dog medicine: loyalty, friendship, trust. I'm glad I knew Spacho, because as a cat woman, I really wanted nothing to do with him at first, but now I am glad to have had a dog friend today, and to have been a friend in return.

Blessed Be.

(written in 2005)