I need a little help here folks.

I need someone to tell me what the sun looks like. Tell me how it feels against your skin. Remind me how it feels on your eyes as you wake to it breaking through the slats of your blinds, creeping through your curtains, spilling across your floor. Tell me what it feels like to have it betray the dust in the corners of your room; how it feels when it licks your back as you bend planting flowers. Describe for me a sunset and don't just tell me that the sky was orange, give me the exact shade and tell me if there are swirls of purple and blue with a tinge of pink. Tell me the degree to which it warms your heart as you hold hands with your lover, watching it settle just above the trees, as you both stare at it knowing that soon night will come and you will be curled in each others arms.

If you are anywhere else besides the East Coast, allow me to live vicariously through you. Give me my Sun back.

You see, for the past, oh I dunno, three weeks we've had nothing but gray skies here. And rain. And gray clouds. And rain. The forecast for the next seven days is, guess what? Rain. Just for laughs (as if it's even funny) our local meteorologist is tracking our weather side by side with Seattle. And isn't it just hilarious that we've bypassed Seattle rainfall? Oh, gosh it's so funny I can't stop laughing. According to him (the meteorologist) the last time we had a full day of sun (not partially sunny) was April 28th. After this past winter, I'm 'bout ready to pull out my Yellow Pages and find somebody to prescribe me some Wellbutrin. But the flip side of Wellbutrin is decreased libido and you know a sister can't roll like that. So I'm trying to hang. And since I know that complaining is a sure sign of spiritual immaturity, I won't do it.

So let's see. Friday was "getting-ready-for-Kid #1's-fourth-recital." All I kept saying to myself is....And this too shall pass. There's nothing worse than parents who think their kids are performing for the president; who drive their kids crazy and yell at them for not remembering the routine.

C'mon folks, they're only kids!!

Saturday was the performance and it was smashing. Kid 1 was beautiful and though she looked Stage Right one two many times, eyeing her instructor, I was still super proud of her for dancing in front of a sell out crowd in a black-as-night theatre, for enduring the madness that we so-called grown folks put them through, for going to every rehearsal with a smile on her face. Spouse gave her three beautiful pink roses afterward and I gave her a big squeeze, telling her I loved her and was super duper proud of her and she reminded us both that she's an Artist.

Monday, accompanied by our friends the Gray Clouds, Spouse and I took Kid 1 and Kid 2 to the shore to check out some campsites where we plan to camp once the weather breaks. We found a really neat place on the ocean, next to a wildlife preserve where the most beautiful horses and deer roam free. There's two miles of sandy beach, a fishing pier, a bicycle path, canoeing, boating and you know, all that outdoorsy stuff. It's been two years since we've camped and I just can't wait to get back out there. Just to lay outside listening to the night sounds, reading my poetry, sipping some wine................ah me.

So anyway, the ride was great (2 hours each way) and I had a great deal of time to catch up on my magazine reading. You know, the magazines you bought at the airport or snuck home from the doctor's office.....those articles you really wanted to check out but just never could find the time to read. You know what I mean. Senseless, on the road type of reading. So in a magazine I rarely buy but only bought last month because an excerpt of Susan-Lori Parks'debut novel is in it, I read something that really struck me, something I found worthy of ripping out and taping in my journal.

It's an interview of Maya Angelou who talks to veteran journalist Pamela Johnson.

PJ: What advice do you give young people who want to live a fulfilling life?

MA: Give yourself time to just be with yourself. Don't always try to work out problems when you're alone. Relax. Go for walks. Listen to kids laugh. Do tai chi so that you can breathe deeply and think more profoundly, and superficial questions won't plague your life so much.

PJ: Do you ever have "if only's"? Ever think, If only I'd made that left turn....

MA: No, no. I let it be. I very rarely acted intemperately. I could have done wiser things as many times as there are days. But I chose.

PJ: What gives you comfort?

MA: .....This morning, at about six, I was thinking about having been in Tuscany and sitting in the sun 25 years ago. And then I thought of having been in Ghana in a shower that opened out into the courtyard, where, if no one was there, I could just take my clothes off under that wonderful blue sky. I was thinking what delicious times I've had and am having, and hope to continue having as long as I am amused.

Intemperately: n. Lack of temperance
Temperance: n. Moderation and self-restraint

I was driving along thinking about Ms. Maya and the word Temperance and all the Buddhist teachings I've learned thus far. And what stood out in my mind most was the fundamental Buddhist belief in allowing things and thoughts and past actions to just Be. To permit the Self, at times, to just Be. In a meditation class I took a few weeks ago the teacher explained to us that there is no right and wrong way of meditation; the goal is not to control our thoughts, nor to try to direct our minds toward some nirvana-like feeling. We are not trying to feel blissful, dreaming of roses and sunsets, rather, we allow our thoughts to come, Be, and then move away. In doing this we become At One (notice the likeness to the word "atone") with ourselves, our thoughts and our mind. Meditation is not about control, it's about allowing thoughts to come and go.

I thought about all of the years I've beat myself up for not starting this novel when I was younger and without the distractions and responsibilities I have now; the circuitous route I took after graduating a year earlier than my class. I was a bright child who never had to study as much as my peers and when I did study I seemed to have a method that never failed. Whatever I was studying I strived for the ability to recite it and write it from memory. If I could do both, I knew I'd have it down pat come test time. I graduated high school at sixteen but took far too many detours. Though I finished college, I never alloted myself time to just Be. I never pursued the writing career I really wanted, rather, I did what was smart. Safe. Reasonable. I got a real job, making real money. But the heart .... the heart knows nothing about money. The heart only knows what's true. I spent too little time living alone and wanted company far too much.

Anyhow, I could go on for as long as there are days (as Maya says) but reading her statement made me realize that that is precisely what we/I must do. We must learn to allow things/decisions/thoughts to just Be. Looking back, I realize that I made the best decisions I knew how with the only information and the only wisdom I had at the time. At 19, I didn't have the wisdom I have now as a thirtysomething. I did what a 19 year old thought was best to do. I could have made better choices, I suppose, but still I chose. And that is the good thing. That for whatever it means, I chose. Life didn't happen to me. I chose.

Furthermore, every road I've traveled has dipped and curved and bent to lead me to where I am now. A mother of two with a profound awe and respect for the Earth and all living things, a Christian with strong Buddhist beliefs and practices who realizes that everything Christ taught is exactly what the Buddhists teach and strive to be in everyday life, rather than just on Sundays. I am an activist who believes in helping those who can't help themselves, who believes and practices recycling, knowing that the Earth can't possibly survive at the rate we're going. I am a mother, a writer of what I feel is poetry, a fiction writer, an artist. I am a person who will find the most banged up table at the bottom of a trash heap, take it home, paint it, cover it with tile and place it in my garden --- knowing that all things have the potential to be beautiful. I'm a person who never throws away a dying plant, rather, I return it to the Earth, at the far end of my yard where other living things like it are.

Everything I am now is the result of where I've been and the road ahead is bright and beautiful.

So, Ms. Maya, wherever you are, thank you for your ever inspiring words. Thank you for reminding me to just Be.

Be well. Be Love(d).
ANGEL