Pictured is a white feather I discovered on my coffee table the other night, which disappeared soon after I took this snapshot. You know what they say… “Feathers Appear When Angels are Near”

There was a time years ago when I led an ordinary life in a comfortable home living a life that was safe by many people’s standards, by mine boring and predictable. If there was anything I loved to do it was learning how to do things, at that time I self taught to build websites and create print material for businesses. One day I made the unpopular decision of ending the toxic relationship I was in and embarked on personal journey to switch things up. Alone. I walked away from the empty 5 bedroom home that had a pool. I had made a life decision which was not to the liking nor approval of people who were simultaneously clueless yet expert about my life. I was effectively shunned by nearly all my family of origin, and the peripheral friends who wanted no trouble went along with the shunning. Sometimes its a cultural thing. It was also reaching the peak of the recession and soon there’d be no companies in my city hiring web developers. As a freelancer the small mom/pop shops who had become my bread and butter clients dried up and had to cancel work or were hard if not impossible to get payment from. Craigslist was rife with scam artists. “This work is not recession proof.” To make matters even less cool, my family of origin gloated about my state of affairs expecting me to crawl back begging. That was not going to happen.

I learned there is never-ever-ending work in caring for the elderly. Even if it paid a fraction of what I was used to, it was better than nothing. Minimum wage is always better than ZER0.

And someone told me it would help me decide if I wanted to pursue Nursing later on. Being a natural “giver of care” all my life…. But first things first. Survival. To do this kind of work I needed to get State Certified. I was in Boston, during one of the worst blizzardy winters on record. I had no car (thank goodness), and just a suitcase of essential clothing, shacked up with a self-centered bad boyfriend (they always see me coming), and with whatever was left of my savings I poured it into the certified training I would received from the Red Cross (I know I know, but I didn’t know). Each and every morning I slogged through the messy snowed slippery sidewalks of Cambridge MA to get to class which lasted a few weeks. They said if you passed the State exam you could begin to work immediately. And I passed and I did. It was a small victory in the scheme of things but it was mine.

Not all my coworkers were nice people though. I had to learn to hold my tongue.

No one could have prepared me for the real life hands on works of mercy and compassion I would be thrust into while honoring another human’s sense of dignity at all times. I was assigned to a neighborhood where the Elder Care Community Center was largely state funded, meaning that many (not all) of my patients were completely forgotten by their families. But each and every day I resolved to do my personal best.

But in seriousness, to be the hands, the eyes, the voice, the feet, the heart of the Creator, was to live. It was in this life chapter that I would literally wash the mangled deformed feet of a stranger while singing them a song familiar to them… Often upon approaching the front door of a particularly dark and negative situation I would ask my Angels out loud, “Come with me . Come with me. Come with me…” gesturing the way you would if your best friend was behind you.

And at the very last moment before entering I would feel a supernatural flood of Love and Compassion escort me over the threshold. And all my fear would simply dissipate completely. I would get through these 4pm-Midnight shifts without a moment available to feel sorry for myself for nearly 2 years. The lessons I was learning about myself were priceless. And soon came an invitation to work similarly but in my home state of Sunny California. Now armed with skills I never thought I’d want, and a perspective money couldn’t buy. I don’t for a moment claim to have had the most difficult life compared to most, far from it. But for me, this had turned out to be a hero’s journey.

While trying to stay out of trouble.

So many here in Dinarland are on their hero’s journey and nearing the end of it. The difficulties we have faced and continue to face, the dreams that we DARE to dream, are but ingredients. And this To all our sisters and brothers out there in the dark in the quiet, short on resources, feeling isolated, shunned or misunderstood or are treated disrespectfully because of what you know in your heart to be true… Keep sending the smoke signals. You will be answered. And above all…

NEVER EVER GIVE UP.

YOUR DESTINY IS IN YOUR HANDS.