Lovers & Soul Mates

There’s a conversation that I have had with women in my life about soul mates and lovers. It’s always interesting to listen to other’s ideas about these topics.  The rationality, the reasoning, and how people think these can be the same person or different people in their lives.

Can you be drawn to another’s personality or soul without being physically attracted to them?  I pose this question when these topics come up. And, I think…yes!!

I want to be a person who does not judge for this, I don’t believe that I am.  I have been in the situation where I was an outsider looking in watching the dangerous version of this happen in someone else’s life (where lines get blurred between these relationships). This has actually happened to me more than once.  I have watched this play out- there is so much pain, anger, yelling, tears, and hurt for all of the parties involved.

I believe there are people in each of our lives that we love in a friendly way and in another way. I also believe you can be drawn to someone’s soul in a romantic way but also without out any romance at all. For me it’s a feeling. I can walk into a room and a certain someone will be there and warmth will wash across my soul on an internal level; I am drawn to them without any explanation.  It is something that JUST IS!

In life do we always believe the same thing that we believed when we were 16, 19, 22, 34…. have my views changed? Absolutely, yes!

I think that both men and women can be drawn to another’s soul…. same sex and other wise?  Can I be drawn toward other men or women by their spirit, drive, by motivation, by inspiration; yes!  Does that mean I want to be romantically involved with them—no! Do I believe that men are this way; yes! Will men admit this…hell, no!

Can we be soul mates with another person or be drawn to another’s soul just by the way they make us feel when we are in their presence.…other than our spouses or life partner? I say, yes.

I am head over heels deeply madly in love with my husband. He is everything I want to be as a human being and partner; to him as he is to me.  He is kind, generous, loving and always trying to be better, give more, challenge himself for everyone else. So, we will say 98% of who he is, I strive to be for him and also for myself.  Do I think he is perfect, do I think I am perfect, is our relationship perfect….no, but I strive to honor my spouse. This is an example of my lover and soul mate.

Back to soul mates…I believe that I have a few friends that are my soul mates other than my husband.  People that do not judge me…. would show up for me…. would be my partner in crime and protect me in any way they could; these people are very rare and very unique.  If you have a soul mate like this—treasure them.  You should nurture them and care for them delicately.

These people I am drawn too, pulled toward by something stronger than gravity….no matter how much time passes or how much I am pulled in the opposite direction…. I am pulled back toward them like a dust bunny when the vacuum is turned on.  Days, years, and months could pass but I will be connected to these people for life.  I will always be attached to these people.

I am lucky because in my husband, I find both of these. Lover and Soul Mate.

Choosing Change & Taking a Leap

There are times when “we” decide to take a leap of faith for ourselves, our families, to learn something or to just move forward in life. You could simply be ready to make a positive change or to move on from something that isn’t good for us anymore. These leaps can be very difficult. Others seem to just transfer smoothly in a new direction-the ones we make by choice are always easier.

I will share some of my leaps with you…


* Choosing my friends wisely in high school

* Sports

* Going far-far away to college (40 miles from my home town – at U of O) Ha!

* Marrying for the first time…..because of how much I learned about love (more later)

* Finishing college after I took a year off

* Marrying for the second time and knowing this is it!!! (we just celebrated our 13th anniversary)

* In-vitro fertilization and lots of needles

* Advocating for my children in school every day

* Leaving our first home and moving to the family farm

* Working out again

* Getting back to my passion-writing

* Sending in 3 manuscripts for publication (much later)

* Never giving up!!


* Transferring from U of O to OSU for someone I was dating

* Taking time off from College

* Getting married when something just didn’t feel right

* Blaming myself entirely for the failure of my first marriage

* Making a choice that could have cost me my life (much much later)

* Not speaking up for myself when I needed too (I still struggle with this)

* Putting up with relationships that were toxic to me

* Not staying in the best physical shape for me

* Not sending in my manuscripts years ago

We all have choices. No matter what the circumstances brought us to making that choice.  We make them every day. Do I change my oil today even though I needed to 1000 miles ago, do I reach out to someone I miss dearly, do I call someone who hurt me and try to talk it through, who am I going to vote for, do I buy that new shirt or not, do I plan a surprise vacation for my family? These are the easy choices.

These are not the life altering choices I see some of my family members struggling with today.  I worry about my family even if they are distant, even if I haven’t seen them in years.  I ache for them and would do anything I could to given them a day without their daily struggles, the battles, the fight and what faces them tomorrow.

Be grateful for what you have! And, if you aren’t happy or don’t feel right about something-change it, work on it, make the choice and take that leap!!

1301 Iowa Street #19

Written April 23, 1995 – Age 17

Sister, the artistic beauty you set to paper created a collage of wonderment across those boring white walls. The paints you said you would never use at our family home. Canvas and colors came together, inside #19. This place you found your niche’ among the large picture window and four white walls covered by your brush strokes and charcoal.

I studied your stick-figure, you said you had not perfected yet. Maybe you could not find satisfaction in your minds’ eye. Did you know I could feel what you put to paper? Maybe, too strong to accept that what you created was already amazing.

On that floor, stained by the tenants before; an unfinished piece of art tossed down by you. We both stood there in each other’s presence. I was amazed.

And sister,

Walking downtown Ashland, the Boulevard, you called it. You were so acquainted in your space, in each step and cracked sidewalk slab; an area so new and unusual to me. I felt this strong pull toward you, walking at your side-I didn’t want to be two steps behind or head. Trying to find a coffee shop where we can write on the tables in chalk.

Finally, we wrote our names, played tic tac toe and drank fancy coffee, in old chipped diner mugs billowing with whip cream. You told me stories-you shared laughter and tears with me. We started 17 stories and only finished seven of them. I found laughter when you did, tears when you shed them and shared rough brown paper napkins from a dented holder that was over filled.

Sister, hours in a parlor waiting…you made me go first in case I chickened out…ceiling mirrors –I stared at myself. We drove miles for what we joked would be Winnie the Pooh on our skin forever but it did not happen. It turned out to be only us. I had your hand to hold, I squeezed and you seemed to squeeze back but maybe just in my mind.  Blue ink wiped away with a paper towel and a white plastic glove.

Yes, sister we never could find the right time or place to celebrate each other; being together in the same childhood room. I know from here on that I can come to any house you live in, you will have a smile when I arrive, a hug like no other, a warm bed to sleep in even if we have to share, and our laughter and tears will always be comfortable in each other’s presence.

For you, I hope life gives you back everything you have given it.

I love you, Sister. I will be back to Iowa Street #19.

Reconnecting and Celebrating…


The sky line is still, not a single light shines in this grey morning. The city is still at rest.

My soul sisters sleep among the feather bedding that engulfs their bodies.  No one lingers below in the streets.  When does this city rise? When will my tribe wake? When will the comfortable laughter start this morning. French press coffee waiting, rain running down the picture windows, and I wait for them. Typing, listening, and counting their breaths and just a few tiny lady snores.

Its been nearly a year since we found ourselves in the same place at the same time. Last night, it happened.  All pre-orchestrated by myself, the birthday girl’s husband, and Utah—we all love her so.  Let’s plan something special we had all decided.

She brought with her – a belly warm and round as a new little one will arrive in May.

This childhood friend we are here to celebrate wakes first. She is beautiful, warm, soft loose hair tousled in a bun, rubbing her belly, as if to say, good morning little one. I will be honored to meet this new little girl. She will bring the joy and love, her mother brings to all those around her.  Darcy Jane wears thin rimmed glasses from behind them, she shares intellect and knowledge by the sunrise in the city. She is calm and is honest. We talked like the months and years hadn’t passes at all.

The day before, we shared a quiet moment at the Dragon Tree, whispering as the scent of rosemary and mint–circled around us. Tiny copper cups, we sipped chilled water…and whispered.  Her eyes rolled and those familiar words “oh geez” tickled my inner ear—those words only sound that way to me. Familiar, funny, and for years they have been rolling off her tongue with a playful roll of her eyes. There is a calm to her, a strength I find; in her strength.  Her ability to calm me no matter what my worry is.

Our home for the weekend–four walls of windows, 12 black window shades, I hide behind 7 am. I listened to them sleep deeply in the bed around the corner. She reminds me who I used to be and who I still am…she challenges me as her dreams sore far above the skyline of  the city.

Later, in great form and physique, a prize fighter some may say arrives. The other one in our tribe.  When I say “our tribe”, I believe that with all my heart.  We are a special group of three…nothing short of a mind opening reconnection that lightens our steps. This connection reminds me that we lead three separate lives by miles of asphalt and mountains, and acres of farm ground.  We reacquaint ourselves and not a single moment has ever passed.  The chatting always becomes real quickly—we laugh, I trip on the sidewalk but our minds and hearts go in deep for the “real” stuff.  My favorite circle chatting begins by fluttering around any place we

are together-that night the Aces Hotel and the street cars. For two days celebrating a birthday, a new baby, and each other.

For Utah, the late arrival. She enters the large glass doors, wet and tattered. A huge bag and a hat…ah, those trucker hats that sit in perfect form on top of her head as if the wind could blow it away and she would take off running down the street after it at full speed ahead.  She radiates sun, beauty, positivity, and awareness-she is tough.  She listens and advises…without judgment.  Her spirit is one like no other…she also is in my tribe. Her spirit is infectious and her strength shows you her inner spirit and joy… she conquers the world with her mind and body.

I woke from my night’s slumber from the honking or a car and the revving of engines below…not the sounds around my home in the mornings.  Quiet, still, my twins giggling in the other room, the whistle in the orchard when the wind blows and the engine I hear is much louder than a car…our orange Kobota tractor rumbling outside my window but that can’t even make me rise some days.  The honking horns and constant movement and chatter woke me quickly this am from the fourth floor.

In the evening, this place is beautiful. Street lights paint the roads with orange as the grey in the sky gets lighter—day light approaches. My friends begin to wake…slowly one and then the other.

What will today hold for us…a new adventure, fresh from any other we have experienced before, laughter just so familiar, like the same in our 20’s, our teen years, and even before.

Many blessings but I cannot wait a minute longer to start the weekend with these soul sisters of mine.  May you all find the time to reconnect with someone that needs you as much as you need them. Take the time to reach other.

Making Your Pieces Fit…


Do you have missing pieces that just don’t fit anywhere except inside of you? In a secret place that only you know about. Perhaps there is no secret too big or too small to explain why you buried them in the first place. However, they still exist just the same, in the corners of your mind, in a familiar smell, lyrics in a song, a quick glance from someone and your eyes meet, a single touch, laughter, and the memory of what another was like year’s ago…sometimes, just a feeling one gets, when one senses another human being…unexplainable except to those who feel it.

We, as beings have “this” sixth sense and I have learned that I need to listen and let myself feel that sense.

It can be as simply put as mind over matter or allowing yourself to push past the pain and let your muscle take you further, to give in when you don’t need to pick “that” battle at “that” specific moment, to trust that sense when you feel like giving up and you know it isn’t the end…for some of us, it’s to suck it up and face the fear, to guide your children in the way you believe to be right, to know when to speak up and when to back off  but remember your words can hurt, so say sorry over and over in this life–because whatever comes next, you will only wish that you had said it, when it could have made a difference.

I want be of one voice with my spouse, to not hide behind others judgements to stand up and disagree or walk away, to know when enough is “your” enough, and to take back your power and simply speak up…speak out…and always remember to stay out of someone else’s battle, fight, or business and only then, is it okay to give advice, when you are asked.

These pieces and your “sixth” sense are connected. Listen to them.  Be strong in the face of adversity (remember not to give up), this is difficult as we often know that anger comes with these challenges. Be gracious, forgiving, and somehow, in some way, WE all need to let go to move forward. Does anyone really want to be standing in a stagnant pool in a swarm of mosquitoes but we can’t move because we are surrounded by alligators, I don’t think anyone would want that.

We, as beings want to make things better, fix what is broken. If one needs help ask for it, talk to someone about that piece of you that doesn’t quite fit-someone probably very close to you has been there.  They will hold on to you, care for you, and love you in just the way you need. We all strive to move on, to love, to live, to experience, to learn and to enjoy every day with the beautiful sun and the storms that will come. Whether it be, in the sun or the storm, we will learn to let go of some of those pieces.



There are moments in life where it flickers.  It flickers like the electricity right before it goes out on a stormy night.  Like every night, I am fast asleep unaware of anything and everything, my body at complete rest.  Out of nowhere, I am awakened and I can’t get to a pen and paper fast enough to get my words out.  I toss and turn trying to fall back asleep, my mind became more aware of my words, stories, exact phrases that I know could be something someday and mean something to someone.  For years, I have been overwhelmed by my own words and thoughts. Life happens and my love affair with writing; what has always been my dream was put on the back burner by no other guilty party than myself. I let me go…I made it less important than everyone and everything else in my life.  So, there it has sat for years.

Fast forward…

I know this gal…this beautiful gal.  I have known of her for years, not well but just really thought she was nice and always pleasant to chat with whenever our paths crossed. This one particular day after telling her for hundredth time that I would come to her gym to her class she taught…I was called-out and when I say called-out, I mean Facebook shamed in the most polite and gentle way with the bi-cep curl emoji con.  See, I had said I needed to workout, to get this booty o’ mine off the couch and get it kicked into shape for years and had mentioned it her and she always had invited me to her classes.  I said I’d come but didn’t…how many of you have done this in one way or another, in some situation; be honest friends. Have you??

Thursday morning, I got up and put on three different pair of yoga pants before I found one that fit and got my tired unshapely bum in the car.  It was as if she was daring me on Facebook, poking the bear in me, and it worked.  I drove to her gym and walked in knowing that I would hate her the next day for how sore I would be! (Ha!) Her class was filled with familiar faces which felt comfortable and right away her strength, beauty, humor, and grace appeared to me.

I had been always enjoying her insightful Facebook posts and they always hit me on the right day that seemed to fit with whatever I was struggling with that moment.  She is inspiring and although I am sore every day and the day after for whatever we did in class that day…I keep coming back to class.  She is strong, willful, supportive and funny. In fact, is one of the most authentic people I have met in along while.  A breath of fresh…

Since, being inspired by this gal to get my booty up and start working out, to go after what I want and to be the best version of myself that I can for everyone around me. Something ignited…ideas and words swirling around me like fireflies in the night.  The way I remember them to dance around me at dusk back east at my Grandpa and Grandma’s house…I remember being in my pj’s with a glass jar, running around the yard with the greenest grass I had even run barefoot on.  I caught each word and idea that zipped around me dancing in light and caught them in my jar.  Just now after all these years, I am opening my jar of written words and they fly out of someplace bottomless.

To this motivating friend, thank you!