Cracked Ice - Part 7

“CRACKED ICE” by Leora Tozer © 2013 Part 7 

I was told by the Temp Agency to take Friday off and was encouraged to go out and see the sights. I have a lot to think about, so I didn’t feel like going out. Partly, I was worried that I wouldn’t have a job next week. Perhaps I had offended one of my bosses. The Archers had a reputation of being difficult to work for. I also felt like my soul was being pulled in a couple of different directions. 

I was hoping to get chance to talk with the boarding house owner Nellie E. Roy, since she works for the T.T.A. I wanted to make sure I haven’t adversely affected any timelines or the positive energy levels I’m trying to help increase. 

The boarding house tenants all respect Ms. Roy. Nellie is a petite woman with long auburn hair, clear blue eyes, and a calm, yet strong demeanor. She speaks up when she needs to. The boarders respects her rules and don’t cause problems. They also know not to bother any of the odd ladies who stay from time to time. These ladies always seem to get time with Nellie, talking to her in her private quarters. 

Ms. Roy asked me to meet her after supper on Friday evening. I felt nervous when she asked me, since I presumed my presence caused a change in the timeline. If that happens, I would have to go back home immediately, which would be disappointing, since I really like working for the Archers at their office. I still had hope that things would be fine on Monday.

As I walked into her study, I noticed how unique the room was. Through its decorations, it felt like several time periods resided within the same room. However, within the room, nothing felt out of place for 1932. Ms. Roy’s sincere blue eyes watched me looking around. I could tell from her expression that she is a insightful and wise woman. I realized it would be best to confide in her, since she most likely already knows that I’m feeling some confusion regarding my time spent here so far. 

“Ms. Roy,” I said, “Thank you for taking time to meet with me.” 

“Sweetie,” she replied. “Please call me Nellie. And I’m sorry we couldn’t talk earlier. I’m sure you're feeling overwhelmed with no guidance.” 

“Nellie, I’m sure I must be completely off track from the main goal,” I answered. “After all, with the Temp Agency sending me to the Archers’ office because I happened to be there…” 

Nellie gave me a patient smile and interrupted, “Leora, don’t you realize?” 

“Realize what?” I asked. 

“There are no accidents in the universe,” Nellie replied. “You were sent to where you need to be.” 

“I feel like my presence is causing confusion, and maybe conflict,” I stated. “At least, I’m confused.” 

“It’s overwhelming for the soul to interact with others, especially when you isolated yourself before this,” Nellie explained. 

“No matter how I think about this, someone’s going to get hurt,” I said. “I don’t want the bad karma.” 

Nellie poured hot green tea into two teacups from a white and blue Rington’s teapot, which was sitting on the small table between our chairs. She set both teacups into saucers and passed one cup and saucer over to me. 

Nellie thought a moment and then sighed. “Regarding that, don’t let Ego, yours or anyone else’s, cloud and corrupt pure emotions.” 

“But if someone’s married?” I asked. I sipped the green tea slowly. The heat of the tea felt healing and settled my nervous energy. 

“It’s different here,” Nellie elaborated, “Men step outside of their marriage and most understand that. It won’t cause harm to you, if your intention is based on pure love and compassion. The echo forward will be a greater good for all.” 

“So, if I’m where I’m supposed to be,” I inquired, “which one is my twin flame?” 

“No one can know that but you,” Nellie stated. I finished the cup of tea and set it back down on the table. 

“I was hoping to feel clearer after talking to you,” I said. 

“Well, you’ll know when you’re meant to,” Nellie affirmed. “This weekend, you can reflect and relax. Try taking a lavender oil bath tonight. It will help clear you.” 

“That sounds wonderful,” I said as I stood up. 

“I’m here any time you need to talk, Leora,” Nellie offered. “Talking can help a soul figure things out.” 

I thanked her for her time and advice and went upstairs. Most of the boarders were out somewhere, so the bathroom was empty. I started filling the bathtub with hot water. As the tub was filling, I went into my room and found a clean nightgown and a bathrobe. I went back into the bathroom. 

The claw foot tub was nearly full, so I shut off the water and added four drops of lavender oil. I slipped off my dress, stockings and undergarments. The hot water felt relaxing on my skin as I slid into the tub. I immediately felt relaxed and floated in the tub, allowing the water to wash away the week’s stress and confusion. 

After 25 minutes, the water was cooling off and I felt so relaxed; I stepped out of the tub and dried off with the white bath towel. I slipped on my clean nightclothes and drained the water. 

I walked down the hall to my room, stepped inside, shut and locked the door behind me. The window was cracked open and the cool August breeze wafted in. I turned off the light, slid off my bathrobe and slipped into bed. 

I lie down and felt my body and mind drift into a deep, peaceful sleep. I was aware of my dreaming within this sleep. It felt like I was floating on a cloud, with someone’s arms around me. As I looked around me, I could see his body leaning on mine. His arms were strong. I felt comforted and protected. In this dream, I couldn’t see his face. I felt pure love surrounding me. 

The whole night I was in this trance-like dream state. The night seemed to go on forever, as if time stopped. I woke up and looked around my room. It was still dark. In the moonlight, I could see the clock’s hands both on 12. It was midnight and I’d only been asleep for 3 hours. I laid my head back down on the pillow and went back to sleep.

Just a friendly neighborhood gathering

As a divorced woman in a small town, it’s a rare event for me to be invited anywhere. So, of course when the girls and I were invited to a neighborhood potluck, I RSVPed. It should be a positive experience and an opportunity for the girls to expand their (as well as my) social circle.

The girls stuck by me as we ate. “I don’t know anybody here,” my eldest complained. “I don’t know many people here either, but that’s how you get to meet people,” I replied.

Later on, after my encouragement, the twins went and introduced themselves to another girl close to their age. My eldest later decided to play with them, since she wasn’t interested in video game playing.

I wandered over to a table of adults, who welcomed me to sit down. I spent some time listening. One of the guests talked to me briefly and the host did go out of his way to say a few encouraging words.

Later on, the hostess stated to a friend her theory that children of artists see art differently than other children, since they see the business side of it. That may be true, but in my mind they would also see the fulfillment of creating, which most people in our world have lost. 

Just a sideline into “who is an artist”: Last night made me understand what Sinclair Lewis was saying in “Work of Art.” Art can be in any profession, as long as the person has passion, conviction and soul-fulfillment in what they do. One does not have to have the word “Artist” stamped to their forehead to be one. {Regarding Lewis’ work, don’t take this comment as a recommendation to read “Work of Art” unless you want to get lost into the minutia details of hotel management and hollandaise sauce.}

The kids all played and enjoyed themselves. At one point, the group of boys ran outside to a nearby park. The adults all mused, “Boys will be boys.” 

I noticed the tree swing keeping busy the whole evening. Several boys were swinging on it wildly. The adults didn’t seem to notice. Later on, one of my twins was on there, twisting around. I walked over and told her to not twist the chain, it could wreck the swing. I went back to the table. After a short while, I heard the hostess state, “Somebody should parent that child.” Sure enough, it was one of the twins. 

I walked over and told the girls we needed to go, since she didn’t listen to me regarding how she was swinging on the swing. My eldest defended her sisters stating, “The boys were doing that earlier.” The twins were merely entertaining their new friends by creating skits and filming it with their new cameras. {In typing this sentence, the true absurdity of the situation astounds me; the artist’s yard is not some place to play wildly and create skits.}

Of course, being raised by my parents, last night I was embarrassed and this morning I was slightly ticked off. Now, I see the humor.

I realize I need to offer others understanding and patience. This mother in a few years will have a better understanding of the repression girls go through in the local school system. She’ll have to deal with things such as I and other moms have. My girls coming home from kindergarten upset; the boys said that they couldn’t be superheroes because “there are no girl superheroes.” So many times girls aren’t called on in math class (even though my eldest is the best math student in her grade). The middle school girl who asked for a flyer to sign up for baseball and the male teacher refuses to give her one. {Fortunately, she was smart enough to outwait him and pull one from the garbage.}

Life isn’t fair sometimes. Life can be repressive for girls and women. I’m looking for ways to encourage all of us (no matter our race, creed or gender) to build each other up, and encourage peace, love and creativity. It’s time to take down the barriers. Who’s with me?

Finding My Voice

One of the reasons I've been scarce from this blog is that each time I feel

close to finding my voice (IE: finding my way to writing again), it seems like something shuts me down again.

Sometimes, it's my own attitude towards work; it drags me down and I can't focus on expressing myself in positive ways.

Other times, it's a more deep rooted pattern in my life. When I was a child, besides witnessing my dad's cruelty towards my mom, she told me more than I should have known about her life, and her marriage with dad. I was emeshed for a few years of my life. I couldn't formulate my own opinions, thoughts or feelings. Anytime I tried, it was shut down by mom. {This isn't something I blame her or dad for; it was a traumatic situation for everyone involved.}

I spent my 20s and 30s getting free from this unhealthy bond. However, I have found within the last year, that my mom uses my weekly phone calls as a way to review her life, her childhood.

It's as if I'm her biographer, and she telling me these stories of her life for the first time. She's telling me them with a purpose; as if she intends me to records these stories in a permanent record. I keep telling her she needs to get a notebook and write down these stories - to tell him within her voice.

I keep suggesting this because I don't want the burden of holding her stories anymore. It is not my responsibility to tell her story.

I feel as if I lose my own voice each time she expects me to unravel the mysteries of her life.

I have felt my creativity clog up so many times this year, and I couldn't understand why.

I know in my heart, this has to be why. This unspoken burden of being my mother's chronicler. 

Yet, I know, I can't do that. I can only tell my own story. I could never accurately tell anyone else's. I shouldn't expect myself to do do. 

Now that I realize this, I feel at peace within myself. I no longer have to keep this expectation.

Thoughts of Enlightenment

Several quotes from a specific character have jumped out at me lately as being very astute, wise and thoughtful.

For example:

"I want to share something with you: The three little sentences that will get you through life. Number 1: Cover for me. Number 2: Oh, good idea, Boss! Number 3: It was like that when I got here."

These are the type of things that would get most people though their work lives with little conflict. In many jobs, employees have to keep their heads down and not get noticed in order to survive. [Unfortunately, it's that way; I'm hopeful that things will shift in the upcoming years and change for the better for people who are repressed at work and elsewhere.]

Second example:
"It takes two to lie. One to lie and one to listen."

Simply, a universal truth. Sometimes we know someone is lying to us, yet we continue to believe it. It's a part of human nature to trust. Unfortunately, there are times the people we trust are not worthy of that trust. I believe we could all admit to ourselves {at least} that we have lied to ourselves at one time or another. {Unless we choose to lie to ourselves right now.}

Truth we all face from time to time:

"Dear Lord.. The gods have been good to me. For the first time in my life, everything is absolutely perfect just the way it is. So here's the deal: You freeze everything the way it is, and I won't ask for anything more. If that is OK, please give me absolutely no sign. OK, deal."

One of the constant things in life is change. Yet, as humans we want to resist change (at least, it seems like most people resist change). So, we try to make a deal, keep things like they are. But would we really be happy if things never changed? It would mean stagnation, people wouldn't grow up and be who they are meant to be. It is the one truly thing I'm fairly certain won't change, there will be change in life.

Is this your truth?

"I've always wondered if there was a god. And now I know there is -- and it's me."

In my belief, we are all a part of the divine source. God is within us all. It is what connects us to every living being out there (animal, plant, human). The interconnections between us all can be powerful. Sometimes we feel pain, sadness, despair; yet, these feelings can lead to great growth. After weathering the storm and a quiet peace settles in, we find love within our hearts and souls. That is God ~ God is love.

A final bit of wisdom:

"Sometimes you have to break the rules to free the heart."

When the rules force us to conform into someone we're not, we have to find our way to break out. We can choose to live life as everyone else expects us to, or to live life in a way that honors our soul. 

Thank you, Homer J. Simpson for your humor, inspiration and wise words over the years. You have led by example (and many times by showing us what not to do).

It's August

This summer has gone by way too fast. I haven't done as much as I hoped as far as getting out and doing things. I was lucky enough to be able to see a couple of shows and have spent much time with the young ones, but I really haven't found a good way to "get out there" (so to speak).

I'm outgoing and shy at the same time. I also don't want to misinterpret things with people or mistake kindness for something more. I do believe in this world we can all use more friends. And that perhaps I need to learn to be a friend to others.

I know that I'm different from others. Sometimes it feels like I can see the world at 2 different levels at the same time. I know that it may be more difficult for me to find a relationship with another person because of this. After all, I had a partnership with someone and walked away from it. I have to be realistic about my own inabilities.



Of course, I did have someone do a spiritual reading for me a few weeks ago. Part of me felt a bit disappointed with it, because part of it reflected something an old friend once said to me. "Don't worry about your purpose. Just be there for your kids."

The reason why that disappoints me is that I've always wanted to show my kids that they could do anything they put their mind to. That they could make all of their dreams come true if they worked hard at it and approached life with an honest, loving heart.

Yet, I'm being told I can't have a purpose because I'm a Mom...

I do know, cherish and count my blessings every day because of my 3 little ones...please don't misunderstand that. I feel incredibly fortunate to have them in my life. I just wish I could find fulfillment within other areas of my life. To stop feeling so unsettled and in the way...

There are no easy answers in life. We all have to muddle though the best we can.