YouCanFly22



	Chapter 22 "YOU CAN FLY..." But that Cocoon has to go I have a poster showing a caterpillar transforming into the stages of a butterfly. The caption reads, "you can fly, but that cocoon has to go." It's been a reminder to me that we must be willing to let go of our limitations in our transformation process. And the butterfly has been the logo for my Inner Freedom Ministry, once I gave up rainbows and pots o' gold when they became passé,' after the eighties. I mention this, at this time, because Dottie, Arianna and I took Micayla to the Butterfly Pavilion as a respite from the busyness of life. And I realized that the adventure would make a great theme for this chapter, as the week began to unfold. Despite the fact that I was anxious to move on to Natalie's and focus on my website and writing, Airica wanted us to stay another week so she and I could do lunch. However, with her busy schedule, it didn't happen until Friday, which was also Brandon's graduation from sixth grade; an event that I wanted to acknowledge and celebrate. In the meantime, while Van remained zapped from his bronchial condition, I released my cocoon and scanned "Saying 'Yes' to Myself," and got it filed and then transferred to my website; a major process, because of the necessary corrections. This, in itself, was a transforming experience, because I didn't sit around and wait for Van to get rid of his cocoon of limitation. By Thursday, while the gals went to the Butterfly Pavilion, Van managed to get up from his sickbed and take Freedom to Flying J for the weekly dump. The Gals Soar It felt good to soar, without the guys, as we studied the map and found our way northward to our destination. I'd been there before, when Van and I took Brandon, but we hadn't allowed enough time for him to see all the insects and hold Rosie, the tarantula, before closing time; leaving us a hurried walk through the butterflies and rainforest. Now, we chose to by-pass the insects and go directly to the rainforest where we wandered along the paths with colorful butterflies darting amongst the tropical plants and flowers, often landing on the people. One little gal's mouth flew open and her eyes were like saucers when a large specimen landed on the shirt of her dad, who was kneeling in front of her; truly a Kodak moment. Although Micayla is only a year old, she totally enjoyed the colors and movement of the butterflies, as her mom, or Grandmother Dottie pushed the stroller along the paths. Of course, Dottie is so used to her hectic pace that she admitted she wouldn't have been all that interested in this interlude had it not been for taking Micayla for the first of, no doubt, many visits as she evolves through her own transition process; each stage finding more to enjoy in this exotic setting of colorful flowers, such as hibiscus and lantana, in a background of giant green tropical plants; and everywhere, everywhere butterflies of all color combinations: the well-known orange and black monarchs mingling with the black and white ones that look like their name: paperkite; or several varieties that are black and orange; or the luminous blue morpho's with eye designs on the outside of their wings; and there are some pale green or light yellow varieties. I bought a guide which shows all the types and names, but there are too many to mention them all. In addition to all this beauty, there are bridges over the ponds with goldfish and turtles, and there are cement benches where one can sit and simply be in the experience, such as one little girl who muttered to no one in particular, "I'm being very still so one will land on me." Visual Transformation I love the entire experience, but my favorite thing is watching the transformation, as the butterflies pop from their chrysalis and go through the process that is described on a large sign: first their wings are crumpled, as they remain attached to their home, and as the process evolves, their wings begin to unfold and then dry. I watched the evolution, while Dottie, Arianna and Micayla went outside to walk along the Nature Trail and escape the almost stifling heat and humidity caused by the frequent misting throughout the rainforest, necessary for the butterflies, who are mostly from South America and used to the hot humidity. Twice a day the attendant carefully removes the new butterflies, places them in a box and moves them into a Releasing Area where everyone is crowded around, as he describes each one that he releases into the rainforest. Of course, they happily spread their wings and fly, usually to a plant, while they get oriented. This experiential aide is wonderful for my constant references to transformation, and the gooey-mess stage in the chrysalis, which I was not able to see. However, there were hundreds of various colors and sizes of chrysalises; some small metallic gold, and others a jade green, which are to deter any predators that would attack the delicate creatures. And, of course, there are the usual ones that look like leaves; also a form of disguise. I could have stayed longer, but Dottie had an appointment at 2:00 and Arianna had one at 3:00, so I was thankful for the time I'd been able to spend there, and I looked forward to the next visit. The Chinese Buffet Airica and I selected the China King, because I love buffets and Chinese food, but nothing prepared me for the size of this Chinese Buffet; rows and rows of everything from egg foo young and sesame chicken to Mandarin duck; and everything between. I was truly overwhelmed, but Airica guided me through the aisles, pointing out the entrees, salads, soups and desserts. I selected some of my favorite combinations and we sat down to eat and chat; a fun experience since we could talk about anything we wanted, without worrying about the guys. They got left out, because of Van still being weak from so much coughing; so we decided for it to be girl talk time. She talked about plans to get a good job so they could rent an apartment, with another friend. They wanted to move by July, but her parents wanted them to wait until August, when they also would be moving. These were really transition times for the family. But, in the meantime, she and Josh had bought fishing poles and equipment and had been having fun fishing. Each day they take Rascal, and one day they took Arianna and Micayla to a local lake. Airica finished her selections and then went to the BBQ grill where one can pick and choose from various thinly sliced meats, add oriental veggies and seasonings, and then give it to the chef who BBQ's on a large round grill. I'd seen this done elsewhere, and I usually get confused trying to figure out the best combinations, so I passed this time and finished the pile of food still on my plate. We'd planned to go to a movie, also, as part of our day, but we couldn't find one we wanted to see, so instead we took Rascal for a walk across the nearby Christian College campus. This was a special time for us to bridge the generation gap that had often interfered with our relationship, and I appreciated that Airica was making the effort for us to spend some quality time together. One More Celebration We were all tired of celebrations, but we wanted to acknowledge Brandon's graduation from sixth grade, so we got up early Friday morning and walked up the street to South Lakewood School, where Airica had graduated six-years ago, when Brandon was in kindergarten. It just didn't seem possible that so many years had gone by, but here we were going to his graduation. And in a few months he would be starting Crieghton Middle School, where Airica had attended, and a new era will be upon the family, especially his dad, Earl. Walking down the halls and into the gymnasium, I enjoyed experiencing this event through Airica's eyes, because it seemed such a short time ago that we attended the Ice Cream Socials and Food Distribution projects. And now she had graduated from high school and was attending her cousin's Sixth Grade Graduation; and everything was different. Talk about a low-key event: Brandon sat midst his classmates, all wearing their usual school clothes, and the parents and guests too were in shorts and other casual attire. It seemed more like an Ice Cream Social, but we caught Brandon's attention and waved. He shyly waved back, but he's not used to much ado being made over him, so he turned around. I must say, I was impressed with the long line of honors and awards given out for music, choir and drama, although Brandon was not included; it's not his thing. We were even sung to by the class thespian, Luke Cantwell, who had the lead in The Nutcracker Suite and other presentations. The President's Award and Individual Certificates for various accomplishments were also impressive. After the ceremonies, we went to the cafeteria for bagels, fruit and other snacks. Although we tried to socialize with Brandon, he didn't seem comfortable with the attention, so we all trooped back down the street, thus concluding that part of the celebration. But Brandon didn't know that his dad and Steve had planned a family BBQ, in his honor, for Sunday. Again, we were all so tired of celebrating that it took all we could do to hang the recycled 2001 decorations. Fortunately, Earl brought the food and did the BBQ, which added fresh blood to the celebrating. Yet, Brandon again felt uncomfortable with the fuss, although he happily enjoyed the food and opening the cards with money inside; a tradition that he easily accepted. As great-grandmother, I allowed myself a few eccentricities, such as giving him a crystal that he had always admired, and also a special book that I had often read to him when he was younger. I figured that I'd better do it now, while he was still an age to enjoy and appreciate such gifts. It's for sure they probably would not be welcome at his high school graduation. Nor would he be interested in playing cards with his great-grandmother; but this too had been a tradition we'd shared, so we played several games, and he won two and I won one. It was a good time together. When the celebration was over, Earl and his friend, Julie, took Brandon to see the newly released "Pearl Harbor" movie. Brandon had wanted to go swimming, but he never made his wishes known, and he went along to the movie. All-in-all, he had a good day and felt that his sixth grade graduation had been acknowledged and celebrated. I wonder, if like Airica, he won't even remember the event? How soon we forget. Ready for the Big Move As part of the transition process for the Big Move, somewhere, sandwiched between Brandon's celebrations, Dottie put together a Garage Sale on Saturday. Van managed to move Freedom in front of the neighbor's house, to be out of the way, and I sat around and kept Airica and Josh company. For some reason, Dottie and Steve had to go on an errand that lasted several hours, in the morning, but they were on the job in the afternoon. Mostly, Airica and Josh sold their stuff, but a rocking chair and some clothes of Dottie's were also sold. Someone bought a skirt that I'd decided to eliminate from our stuff, so I saved the $1.00 for church on Sunday. Expressing Myself and my Abilities Speaking of church, I was devastated to hear that, after fourteen-years, this would be the last Sunday for our talented soloist, Anne Achenbach, to perform at Mile High Church; she was moving on to a greater level of self-expression in theater and recording. I felt a deep sense of loss, and my Abandonment Tape got triggered, but I prayed my way through, as the service continued. We were still into the Prosperity Program, and this week's subject, "Claiming and Expressing Your Gifts," spoke of being in the Express Business. In other words giving of our talents, gifts, abilities and money. I'd already been thinking about giving Brandon the crystal, and this subject encouraged me to pass along this particular gift, in addition to the book and money. The sermon also reminded me that my website is my opportunity for expressing. And I again became anxious to get on with my own life and activities, so after Brandon's Celebration BBQ, I suggested to Van that we begin our transition process of driving to his cousin, Natalie's. We were both weak and exhausted from the bronchial infection, but we managed to drive to Golden and get our mail, and also stop at the mall to pick up "The Abundance Book" that I wanted to give as a gift to Dottie and Steve. It felt good to be on our own, but we decided to stop at Camping World for the night in order to rest and regain our strength and energy, before forging ahead to Flying J. No one was around and we enjoyed the serenity of the peaceful pond and surrounding greenery. We were also thankful that we didn't have any repairs this time and we could relax and rest. Another Transition When I started this chapter, about butterflies, transformation and transition, I had no idea what I would hear when I called Dottie. Airica answered with the news, "Josh's dad died today." During the Garage Sale, Josh had been talking about his dad's illness keeping him from Josh's graduation. But I had no idea he was this ill. And neither did Josh, because the news had been so devastating that Airica had to drive him to his mom's so that she could take him to the hospital, where his dad was being kept on life-support, until Josh would be able to say "Goodbye." Congestion Van and I had been suffering from sinus and bronchial congestion for several weeks and we were exhausted from the coughing, in addition to all the activity. We just needed to rest, so instead of going to Flying J, we drove to the Wal-Mart Supercenter in Commerce City, north of I-70, where we'd spent a stormy night during our last trip to Colorado. Wouldn't you know, we'd started a precedent. Again, the skies were overcast with dark clouds and thunderheads, but we were too tired to move on. However, as we watched the lightning around us, and the storm came closer, obliterating the mountains to the west, it reminded me of the dust storm in Texas, and we rushed inside. Within minutes the roof sounded as if being bombarded by heavy hail, but Van looked outside and said, "It's like a carwash out there." I didn't look. Instead, we decided to do our stock-up shopping, thankful to be inside. By the time we returned to Freedom, the rain had subsided, but lightning was flashing all around us, and the storm continued into the night. We didn't care, we were too tired to move again. And the same was true the next day, although we managed to go inside and finish our shopping, which we were too tired to do the night before. But again we were too tired to move on, so we stayed another night, despite the fact that another thunder storm was due the next day. But the spring thunder storms were everywhere, so where else would we go? We were parked against a building, so we had some protection. The Weather News reported that a tornado had struck a town east of Colorado Springs, and the next day we saw pictures of the brand new high school that had been destroyed by the tornado; and RV's and mobile homes had been overturned. So, we were thankful to be alive and that Freedom was intact. We wondered why the weather seemed to be reflecting the congestion we were experiencing in our bodies; or vice versa. And when we finally mustered enough energy to drive to Flying J, we made wrong turns and got ourselves totally congested in traffic, driving many miles out of way in order to circle back the relatively short distance to Flying J. I felt like I was in a Twilight Zone or something, as Van drove further away from our destination along I-70, and instead headed back into the congestion of metro Denver. We were both growling and confused, and all I could hear in my head was: "Congestion! Congestion!" "Okay, so what's going on here?" I asked God, between hacking coughs and feeling weak and dizzy. And when I'd tried to get anything done, like write a letter, I couldn't even get it printed out to mail. It took several days to accomplish one project, and I hadn't written or worked on the website for days. "I know it's God's timing," I affirmed, but I was feeling frustrated and thwarted. All I'd felt like doing for several days was lie on the couch and watch TV. Not like me. I wanted to get to Natalie's where I could again focus on getting things done. For instance, I wanted to complete the links for "Saying 'Yes' to Myself," before the month was over, and I had one day left. Also, I'd been receiving requests for books and material from several Freedomers and a non-freedomer, yet I wasn't feeling enough strength to get it done. "Why is everything so congested?" The Shortest Distance It's said that a straight line is the shortest distance between two points, but you couldn't prove it by us. Actually, we had driven in a straight line getting to Flying J; it just went past our destination. Nevertheless, once we finally arrived, Van fueled and dumped and then we ate the sandwiches, which I'd bought at Arby's. I brought up the subject of our congestion and harassed Van about his honest feelings about what he really wants to do. I accused him of only wanting to travel all the time, and not do anything else. Again, he insisted that he really wanted to go to Natalie's, as planned, and to help me with the website. I still wasn't convinced, but we agreed that we didn't want to stay at the noisy Truck Stop. I had an idea, so I studied the map and looked for a new route, then I said, "Rather than drive through the congestion along I-25, where they are doing the new road construction, let's go east about twenty-miles to Bennet, then north to Prospect Valley, and then head west on 52, which takes us back to Erie. They are all straight lines and it will give us a little change of scenery, and also change the congestion pattern." Van loved the idea of getting on the road; actually we both perked up, as we headed east on I-70, across the flat farmland of The Plains. And as we left The Rockies, we even came out of the clouds and enjoyed some sunshine. But, when we again headed west, we could see dark rain clouds which we would not be able to avoid. But, in the meantime, driving through the old farm towns of Prospect Valley and Hudson we felt like we were back-in-time, as we passed the weathered buildings, local cafe and bar. It was a good idea to change the congestion pattern and see new scenery, and our bodies responded with fits of coughing, as the inner congestion began to break loose. A straight line may not be the shortest distance, in this case, but it certainly had a healing effect, as we drove by the serenity of the farm communities, green pastures with horses or cows, and the spring blossoms of colorful iris, and despite the light rain showers, we felt better when we arrived at Natalie's. Welcome Home She stood in the yard and waved, as Van pulled along the curb into position under the big shade tree beside the house. I love the quiet town and I felt like we'd arrived home, especially when I got out and Springer, her black and white cat, who is usually shy, came up for a rub, and then stood at our screen door and meowed to be let in. As Natalie showed me the progress on her rock flower garden, huge drops of rain forced us under the patio roof, while she looked for an electrical cord so we could hook-up. I surveyed the backyard, which was still full of her accumulations from many years of buying from the auctions, an obsessive-compulsive characteristic that she hadn't been able to overcome. However, with the help of Shane, a Code Enforcement Officer, the yard did look much more open; partly from the tree seedlings having been trimmed, but mostly from the removal of six large dumpsters of stuff. Talk About Congestion Yet, all the piles and stacks seemed familiar and strangely comforting, as it's part of Natalie's life, which she generously shares with us. Actually, it's like living in The Promised Land, because anything we need is available someplace; if she can only find it. For instance, for last summer's heat she'd donated two nice fans for our comfort, and allowed us to take them when we left. I asked if she'd gotten the new couch moved into the house yet, but she replied that the house was still the same, which meant that it was still stacked and packed, with a pathway from one room to the other. Last trip I'd committed myself to attempting to help her get rid of some stuff, but I'd worn myself out and hurt my back, so this time, I'd decided that I would simply accept Natalie's lifestyle as it is, and let her live it however she finds comfortable. For now, it was about the rock garden, and planting all the flowers she'd purchased. The fact is that I had my own weeds to pull, so to speak, by getting my new website address decongested and connected. God's Time Frame I knew that I couldn't force anything to move any faster or differently than it was going, so I relaxed into the flow and let it be. For instance, Van spent the first day parked at Natalie's in bed. This meant that the myriad projects, such as scanning, that needed his assistance were still waiting. In addition, Natalie was busy with her life, and was away all day, so the phone hook-up didn't happen, because it requires her unique system of doing things. By process of elimination, my projects were crystal clear: write. First, I updated my chapter, and then I wrote a few letters to Freedomers. One of them, to Pepin, was opening a new era, or maybe simply re-opening an old one. He had answered the Questions in my original "Pot O' Gold Course, and they formed the base of my new version, the Saying Yes Series. But, he had stopped doing it many years ago. Now, he wanted to continue. This meant that I must get my head back into the material, and also find where he had left off. But the files were packed into Dottie's basement, and for some reason I was having difficulty getting clarity on exactly what to send to him. It was a good process for me to return to the files and material in order to move forward; a completion that could be healing, simply because it would be a completion, rather than another unfinished project. I'd already sent the book to Pepin, but so far he hadn't mentioned receiving it, let alone my letters. In the meantime, he'd moved, then his cell number changed, so I was feeling frustrated because of the delays and lack of communication. However, his intentions were clear: he wanted to resume responding to the Questions, and he even sent two booklets of stamps to help with the expense of mailing the material. This, in itself, was another pattern change. In the past, Van's income had financed my ministry, but with his downsize job lay-off, that all stopped. And it's for sure we couldn't afford the cost of the ministry on Social Security Retirement. In fact, we had recently concluded that our Spending Plan was based on a false premise, meaning that the income was about $300.00 less than the expenses. What a unique concept! More congestion. But, as my congestion was clearing, some of the confusion in my life was also clarifying, and writing to Pepin seemed to be part of the process. It was also pulling together some loose, ends, and as my head cleared, I could see the overall picture for my ministry and life more clearly. Confirmation and Clarification However, by the time I'd completed the other two letters, my head pressures returned and I needed to rest awhile. With Van still in bed, I savored the quiet energies, so I picked up Gary Zukav's "Soul Stories" and continued reading. Dottie and Steve had read the book and I'd seen it on their bookshelf. Feeling an inner guidance to read it, I'd begun while at their house and brought it with me. I hadn't been much into reading, lately, but I knew I must read this book and God had provided me with the perfect opportunity. For me, it was confirmation of the inner information I'd been getting and writing all along. And it also clarified much of what had been happening in my life, especially what I'd been discussing with Van about intentions and also the need for him to recognize, understand, heal and release his underlying anger. That emotion that he tries to cover with his passive- aggressive behavior. So, when he finally awoke, I read some of those parts to him. Although he didn't say much, I could tell that the words had touched a nerve. I also realized that his congestion and sleeping were part of his inner healing and transformation -- much like being in a chrysalis. Despite the fact that he had been taking the Prime for nearly two weeks, he'd been too sick to notice any change. Yet, I knew that it was happening on an inner level, and would be apparent when he finally emerged from his cocoon. Creativity, Visualization and Manifestation In the meantime, I was going through my own transformation. For one thing, we had entered into the Gemini energies of my birth month, June, and it felt good to have the day to myself. My strength was returning, and also my creativity. No wonder, because June's power is Imagination, so its energies are definitely conducive to visualization and creativity. And this is the month that innerfreedom.net would make its debut. I'd been busy preparing for it, and now it was upon us, and I felt invigorated and excited. I knew that my congestion had been part of this transformation process, and now I felt ready to move forward. In fact, I felt liberated, as I happily walked the eight blocks to downtown Erie, so I could mail the letters at the post office, since there is no home delivery mail service. Although I knew that the Renaissance Health Food Store had not made the transition into a deli and had shut down, I'd been looking forward to renewing my connection with Ricoli's Pizza Parlor and also the Taco Mine Mexican restaurant. However, I was saddened to learn that the Pizza Parlor had closed and the Mexican restaurant had changed names. Nevertheless, I would check it out. Returning home, I felt the pangs of my Abandonment Syndrome, but I reminded myself that life is about change, and it's definitely not about the pizza parlor and Mexican restaurant. OF course, I had a hard time convincing Joanie of this fact, and she felt the need for nurturing, which means food. Or, ice cream would be even better, but now the only place was the Conoco Food Mart, but I decided to save that walk, in the opposite direction from town, for another day. But, hark, what do I hear? Is it the unmistakable melody of the local Ice Cream Wagon? Indeed! Joanie grabbed her money and rushed out the door and down to the corner. But the Ice Cream Wagon was going in the other direction. Darn! I'm going to walk to the Food Mart, Joanie muttered to herself, as she walked slowly back home. But, soon the melody came from another direction, so she rushed down t he street, only to see it turn the other way. Phooey! "I am going to have my ice cream," Joanie affirmed. But she suspected that the Ice Cream Wagon had quit for the day, because there was no more music. And then, suddenly she heard it again and rushed back to the main street and flagged it down. "There is a God!" she mumbled, as she licked her drumstick and felt the gentle nurturing ice cream trickle down her throat. Joyanna knew that this was simply another illustration of God providing for our needs, and she gave a silent "Thank You." Spiritual Partnerships This chapter was making more and more sense, especially the next day when I again read "Soul Stories." More specifically, the part about spiritual partnerships, which explained what Van and I had been going through on our spiritual journey. So I decided to read some of the chapters to him in an effort to determine if we were truly on a spiritual path together, or if it's just a figment of my imagination. He agreed that he had similar feelings described by Gary Zukav, about low self-esteem and that he had been working with himself in unearthing, recognizing and changing them. The conversation went along quite well, between our still violent coughing, which I assumed to be more clearing of the inner congestion. But when I tried to get a commitment from him relating to the computer work, the team of horses again seemed to split and he went off in another direction. I concluded that the sooner I could get someone else to assist with this project, the better. But the major problem between us still seemed to be communications, which made sense when he announced that his philosophy boils down to "Actions speak louder in words." In other words, "just do it." I said "That's like the husbands who respond to a wife's need for compliments about her cooking, 'I eat it don't I?' or their insisting 'I'm still here,' when a wife asks if he loves her." In any event, the conversation seemed to bring us to a new level in our spiritual journey. At least I could assume that we were each a "new male/new female coming together to create authentic power," while seeking spiritual growth, and that is a plus, according to Gary Zukav's philosophy, which agrees with mine, for that matter. To me, this seems to be a major step in our transition process, and I could feel the cocoon splitting, as the caterpillars shed their limitations, turned into butterflies and began to fly.