Your life can change in an instant – excerpt from DADDY THROWS ME IN THE AIR…

My Father’s Cane – Adult – Present Time 

I couldn’t have imagined that almost one year exactly after my father’s death, I would be using one of his canes.  My dad died in April, the day in that year was Good Friday.

Daddy used canes for years because of an injury when he was in the Navy.  A bomb had hit on the submarine he was on.  When Dad was running away from the explosion, he turned to look back and was hit in his neck and spine. This created a degenerative spinal disease to develop as his life progressed.  He had been an athlete in high school and was recruited to be a pitcher, but he hurt his arm and couldn’t pitch any longer.  After a few years of college, he went into the Navy where he acquired this injury to his upper vertebra. He was a large, vibrant man and it wasn’t until later in his life that he needed to use a cane to steady his walk. He eventually ended up in a wheelchair. One day I asked, “Dad is it horribly difficult being in a wheelchair when you were once so active?” He replied in a gruff tone, “No it’s okay. I manage.” I rarely saw him frustrated concerning his disability. Although in private, I am sure that he had his moments.  Dad rarely if ever let me see him down, depressed or hopeless. I guess that is why he wouldn’t tolerate it in me. He wanted me to have a strong core because he knew in life that internal strength is what makes or breaks you.

While in the Navy, Dad flew planes but he was also on a submarine.  Going from the different altitudes also wreaked havoc on him. He told me stories about being in the Navy infirmary and how lonely he felt. He said that he had never felt so alone in his life and that it was the worst feeling in the world. Healing can be an alone process… When he got out of the Navy, he asked for Mom’s hand in marriage repeatedly – on the third attempt, her father said yes.

Through the years, I would buy him antique or usual canes for gifts. He had quite a collection. After he died, I got some of his canes. I placed the black one with the silver handle to lean in a corner of my powder room. There, I could see it easily as I walked through the hallway past the powder room door. It gave me comfort to see it in there. It gave me the feeling that Dad was watching over me.

On April twenty-fifth, one year after Dad died, I had an accident. I slipped and fell on an unmarked wet concrete floor in a local wine bar. I broke my left elbow and sustained three hairline fractures in my tailbone. ‘Unmarked, wet floor, wine bar wounded warrior’ – not really funny, but…’ And no, I was not tipsy. I had one sip of champagne with a friend who I had picked up from the airport and we were celebrating. It was near closing time and the employees in the wine bar had prematurely begun to clean up and mop. Yes. I sued and yes, they settled with me for their negligence.

I was dealing with so much at time. I was still healing from the death of my Dad. My sisters were continually suing me concerning Dad’s Will. Then I fell and had another lawsuit to contend with. I still don’t know how I dealt with it all. But I knew my Dad was with me. I pulled Dad, Mother and God close to me every night before sleeping and often throughout the day.

During the healing, I was on crutches for a bit. How horrible are those things? I needed to ‘baby’ my left hip completely for a while and I also had my arm in a sling, I had to use one crutch under my right arm to take pressure off my left side. Using the crutches threw my walking gait off. After starting rehab to strengthen my left leg, I realized I was really having difficulty walking normally. This was frustrating beyond belief. Being a former ballet dancer and used to being fit as a fiddle, I was scared because I seemed to have little control over movement in my left leg to walk naturally.

The first day after I came home from rehab, I ‘crutched’ by the powder room and noticed Dad’s cane. It was as if it was calling to me. I decided in that instant to toss the crutches and to use my Father’s cane.  Even though he was 6’2″ and I am 5’3″, the cane worked perfectly for me. I began practicing immediately – by walking up and down the entry hallway using my dad’s cane. It was exactly what I needed. It offered support while I strengthen my left leg to regain my natural walking gait. I felt tremendously close to my dad during this time using his cane.  Each step I took to regain my natural walk and balance, it was as if Dad was with me. Just like when I was taking my first steps and he encouraged, balanced and guided me. He was with me now. My parents told me that I learned to walk at nine months and after I did – I ran everywhere. Mother could barely keep up with me.

Now I was resting my hand on the same silver handle that my dad used for years. After two days, I was walking more naturally and in a week, I could walk without the cane. I used it a week longer just to feel my daddy close to me for comfort and moral support. Dad used to tell me he loved to watch me walk and to move. I have a fast gait and he told me that he loved the energy of my fast-paced movements.

 I was blessed to be born with my Dad’s will of iron – to keep on keeping on. By breaking against his internal strength all my life, I triggered my own. It’s one of my greatest gifts from him.

Mom used to say, “You and your father are just alike – both have heads as thick as a brick wall, stubborn as can be.” When Mom would say this, it was usually when she was irritated at one or the both of us. Dad and I would look at each other shrug and smile.  Dad and I are/were a lot alike and our hard heads could butt in real style. But actually that stubborn-will served/serves us well at times.

During this time of recovery, I decided to venture further into town to run an errand. I had spent two weeks almost completely in bed and without driving. Only recently, I started driving myself to rehab and doing errands but only in my area and was now ready to get back into the world. I knew that I needed to push myself so as to not become fearful and isolated. So I forced myself to step further out. With my dad’s cane in tow, off I go. As I near my destination, I hear a big pop and the tire light comes on in my car. I slowly enter the parking lot and park in front of where I was heading. Get out and realize that both tires on the driver’s side of my car are blown out. The tires were fairly new. Clearly, I must have run over something. Here I am using a cane, it’s hot outside and I am a far distance away from my house for the first time in almost a month. I momentarily fill up with fear and stress.  Then settle my mind and call a tow truck which arrives in record time after I explain my circumstances. The man driving the tow truck was as kind a man as there could be. Here I am with sling on an arm and using a cane, barely able to lift my left leg climbing into the cab of a tow truck. The man stood behind me guarding me as I did. While, we ride to the car dealership with my car in tow, we chat and I share with him my ordeal of the past month. He listens with understanding and says, “Just have trust in God.” I replied, “That’s what I am doing.”  Then we both burst out into laughter concerning the ridiculousness of it all. He tells me to keep my smile and to keep laughing.

My new tires were put on and I was home in record time. But why did this happen at just this time, one thing after another putting more stress and challenge on me? Was it to further expand me?  All you can do after dealing with the issues at hand – is to trust in a positive outcome, laugh in amusement and let it go. What’s that saying? ‘If you find yourself walking in Hell just keep on walking’. That is what I did. With each issue I dealt with, God had my back. As fast as it fell apart, it came back together with adventure, magic and more awareness along the way. Kind people were put on my path to assist me – complete strangers with like heart and belief.

As I continued dealing with rehab and this whole ordeal, I could hear Dad’s words in my mind’s eye as I pushed, faltered, got frustrated, scared then kept on… “Keep at it Tiger! You can do it. I am here with you. I am proud of you.” 

Dad had been a wounded warrior and my accident and what it took to recover gave me a new appreciation for what it is to deal with and recover from physical trauma.  Dealing with this just one year after his death, was a lot to process on the physical, emotional and mental levels. But the strength that I had honed from my lessons in life got me through it.  In the exact moment, I replaced my crutches with his cane. I promised Dad that with the help of his cane, his eyes watching over me and the energy and grace of God that I would regain the walk that I was born with and he loved to watch. I fully recovered in record time and in my doctor’s amazement with no lingering effects from my injuries. None! I am physically fully restored.

To add to this time of trauma – dark night of the soul – testing of my spirit – just six months after I had fully healed from the fall and was beginning to feel relief – I went to my dermatologist for my yearly examination. To discover I had a place on my forehead that was cancerous. This place was above my right eyebrow. My dermatologist sent me to a MOHS surgeon to have it examined. Because of where it was, they scheduled me with a plastic surgeon to close the opening after the surgery. I was in full panic mode before the surgery. I had no idea how deep the cancer was or how intensive the damage would be to my forehead.

In two years, my dad had died, I was still dealing with the emotional effects of this, my sisters were repeatedly suing me, I had fallen, recovered and was in the middle of suing the restaurant where I fell. And now, I was looking at having my forehead possibly disfigured.   My father was gone -the only one on earth I had to turn to for strength. My physical abilities had been threatened and I was now facing losing my looks. Talk about overwhelming stress upon stress.

I was wired, anxious and I became depressed. I wondered how much I was going to be put through and if it would ever be over. Would I ever feel like me again? Then who was I, anyway?

I prayed and prayed and finally turned it over to God. At times, this was easier to do than at others.

A friend took me to have the MOHS surgery early on a winter morning. They only needed to go in one and half times, so the cancer had not destroyed much. But I still was left with a large hole in my forehead. That afternoon, I went to the surgery center for a plastic surgeon to close it, to leave the least effect on the appearance of my forehead and face. God lead me to a gifted surgeon.

After the surgery, I felt like I looked like Frankenstein because my forehead was swollen with a red suture line over my right eyebrow. The caring surgeon called me every morning for a week to see how I was doing. He promised that the swelling and the scar line would disappear. I was going to look great again even better. The upside was that the surgery raised my right eyebrow that was lower than the left one and served to tighten my forehead – a light in the darkness.

After a few weeks, it did look much better. In months, it was barely noticeable. Today the scar line is barely, if at all visible. I don’t even need to put makeup on it, to cover it up.

Everything I had broken against as a child, young adult and throughout my life had prepared me for this sequence of events of my dark night of the soul without my father here on earth to sustain me. I had almost lost everything several times in my life, but never like this. Nothing had ever felt this alone and low. In this timeframe, I remembered back to when angels had walked though me. I asked and prayed that they please do it again. But they didn’t. I heard in my mind’s eye, ‘You know we are with you and you will be fine’.  Therefore, I focused on recalling that feeling of love that had once filled me up in comfort and grace as I pulled God, my mother and my father close to me every night. As I lay alone in my bed, I could smell the fresh fragrance of my mother and heard my father’s words, “You can do it, Tiger! I am with you all the way.”

Things can appear horrible and like everything including your life is falling apart, right before more awareness is recognized. I learned how strong and resilient I am. I felt, knew and renewed my faith and strength in God. I realized the hate that my sisters have for me, so I cut them completely out of my life which I should have done a long time before.  Doing so, has freed my spirit in ways that is incredible. I feel younger now, than I even did when I was a child living in my parent’s home with the burdens of my mother, my sisters and my father weighting me down with their imprints. I have awareness, understand, accept and forgive them all. I let them go.

I choose only to keep the love of my mother and dad as comfort to guide me in the rest of my life’s journey. Of course, I do have happy family memories that I enjoy at times.

Embrace challenges in life as opportunities for self-reflection and transformation.

“You have power over your mind, not outside events. Realize this and you will find strength.” Marcus Aurelius


Books by Ayn



Also available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, etc…

Don’t Look In This Cabinet…

I am nine…

         Christmas is fast approaching.  Excitement is in the air.  We’ve given our Christmas lists to mom and dad.  They told us that they’ll make sure that Santa Claus gets them. My sisters and I tell mom and dad over and over, reminding them daily of all the things that we want for Christmas.

               I want a Brownie doll, a Girl Scout watch, a bike and a record player.  I want the Girl Scout watch absolutely the most!  I feel as if I’ll be a real grown-up with a watch especially a Girl Scout watch.

               Mother comes home with lots of packages takes them into her room and closes the door.  Later when I check, there is nothing there.  No packages are in her room.  I knew that mom and dad bought some of the gifts and I knew Santa brought some of them.  My younger sisters didn’t know this yet.  I’m three years older than they are.  I know a lot more things than they do.

               I wonder what mom bought.  I’m terribly curious!  One day, I’m snooping around and mother catches me.  She warns, “Don’t go through any closets or cabinets in our room.  If you do, you’ll spoil some surprises.”  I ask her if any of my things are in the cabinets.  I ask specifically about the watch.  She answers, “It’s Christmas. I’m not talking.  Wait and see!  Christmas is about surprises!”

               I didn’t care about surprises. I just had to know!  So one day when I’m sure that mom isn’t around, I climb up to the cabinet where I suspect she has put some of the packages.  I climb up the drawers using them as if they are steps, and crawl into the large cabinet at the top.  I’m very quiet and very careful.  I open all the different sacks and packages.  I find some things I recall my younger sisters asking for. Surely, there’s something for me, too.

Then hooray! I find a Brownie doll and a Girl Scout watch.  I feel excited to know that I’m getting these things especially the Girl Scout watch.  After seeing, the watch I’m totally satisfied and carefully exit the cabinet.   I take great care to put everything back exactly the way I found it.

               I spend the next few days before the arrival of Christmas dreaming of wearing that Girl Scout watch.  How cool I’ll be and feel with it on my wrist.

Then Christmas morning arrives.  We all hurry in to see what Santa Claus has left for us.  With four little girls, there’s a lot of loot – all sorts of toys, games, bicycles in varying sizes and lots of dolls with their accessories.

We decided on Christmas Eve where we wanted Santa to put our gifts. I go to the area where I know my gifts will be.  I see a lot of the things that I had asked for – a bike – a Brownie doll – a record player but no Girl Scout watch.

My heart sank.  I look around at my sisters’ things. Nope. No, Girl Scout watch there.  They’re too little anyway. I don’t think they can even tell time.  But what if it had gotten mixed up in their stuff,  I’d just die if one of my younger sister’s got my watch by mistake.

I’m sure I saw a Girl Scout watch in mom’s cabinet.  That’s the main thing I want. “Oh! Where is it?   I run into my mom’s room.  She’s still in bed.  We got up so early, like five or something.  My mom said she was going to rest a little longer but for us to go on in to see what Santa left.  Daddy was up playing with us and helping with our toys.  But mom was still in bed.  I run into my parents’ bedroom and jump on her side of the bed. I sit beside her. I guess my jumping woke her up.  She opens her eyes and sleepily asks, “Did you get what you wanted from Santa?”  I respond, “Yes, I did – but – um – well…”

               I couldn’t ask her directly about the Girl Scout watch because then she would know.  I had sneaked a look in her cabinet.  I’m scared that maybe God is punishing me for looking in the cabinet and not obeying my mom.  Maybe my mom found out that I’d gone into the cabinet and is punishing me by not giving me the watch. What if she returned it to the store?

I was sure I had put everything back just like I’d found it.  I feel guilty for sneaking and doing what my mom said not to do.  That was why the Girl Scout watch wasn’t there because I am really bad. I’m being punished.  My heart is pounding.  I guess my mom suspected something was wrong because she says, “Go look again, maybe you missed something.”   I race back into the family room.  Toys are everywhere.  My youngest sister is even riding her tricycle in the house.  Daddy is telling her to wait until we go outside but she won’t.  There’s so much activity and mess.  But where’s my Girl Scout watch?  Will I ever find it?  I go over to where Santa placed my things.  I look again and yes! There’s a little box with the Girl Scout name on it.  I open the box and there it is my watch!  I put it on and feel – oh so happy, grown-up, cool and everything else that is good!  I feel as wonderful as any nine-year-old girl can feel with a new bicycle and Girl Scout watch!

You know I really wish that I had listened to my mom and not looked into the cabinet. I did spoil my surprises.  Sometimes, it’s nicer not to know. To let surprises happen especially at Christmas.

What awareness!  As an adult releasing the need to always know the outcome and be in control can be a difficult process.   Allow life to be a surprise.  We do not always need to know the outcome.  Many times, we have no way in the world to control the outcome of situations in our life. Sometimes what you expect or want is not what you get and many times it works out for the best this way. Also sometimes what you really want and are looking for is right in front of your eyes but you can’t see it because you are looking so hard for it or trying to find something else that you think might be better but isn’t.

 Let go and let God!  Trust that what is truly yours will be yours. Release the need to control all situations.  Allow Surprises! Many times what will be will be, no matter how hard you try to know and control the outcome. Relax and go with the flow…

Also it’s interesting that when I did not find my much desired gift, the Girl Scout watch from Santa, I immediately thought the reason was because I was being punished.  That God or my mother was punishing me by not giving me the gift that I wanted the most.  The same belief that most of us have, if something happens ‘bad’ or that we deem is bad, we think we are being punished by a judging and vengeful God.

Where does this automatic response come from?  Is it the religious dogma and Puritan ethics that instill a fear of God? And perhaps, is having that fear, at times might be a good thing? So we are kept on our path with surprises, twists and turns along the way of our journey on earth.

Our memories, why we recall what we do, and how and why we are imprinted with what we are – is what makes us who we are and creates our life. Until we become aware, in  full self-reflection, we will be guided as if on remote  control by imprints and belief systems. When we become aware, we are at choice.

DADDY THROWS ME IN THE AIR – a memoir/self-help –  included is a process to assist in releasing limiting and negative beliefs.

Available in print and e-book on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, etc or by clicking on link below. May your Christmas season be full of grand memories for awareness, forgiveness, healing and JOY!!!


Books by Ayn



Sensuality, Sexuality – harassment as opposed to admiration – the differences…

There is a healthy appreciation of sensuality and sexuality then there is the opposite and this can take many forms – shaming, being promiscuous while hiding behind the facade of self-righteousness, power or authority, abuse, harassment, assault, threats, even rape and all sorts of other  perverted nasty BS!

Openly crude and overtly sexual behavior as in Miley Cyrus and many others is clear in its intent including all the recent revelations of all the sexual harassment allegations ; such as with Harvey Weinstein, etc. This kind of harassment is clearly about the insecurity of those doing so and their need to feel powerful and in control – it actually has little to do with sexuality. In fact, it is the opposite. It’s only about rule, dominate and control, along with a perverted insecure and distorted mind.

When an emotionally healthy and sensual woman or  man expresses compliments or admiration, it’s deemed ‘bad’ by those with freakish, perverted, sick minds and negative intentions.

Male and female energy are what keeps this planet rocking and rolling. In fact, the tension in the energy between male and  female is what can create life. Nothing else can do this in the natural God-given way – everything else is technology and artificial.

Emotionally and mentally healthy, sensual, feminine, womanly, moral women  enjoy being complimented, appreciated and shown admiration in a respectful way and manner –  it’s their natural instinct to desire this.  Most women can feel almost immediately and in most instances,  the intent of the words and behaviors – whether they are of genuine appreciation or ill-intent full of power, insults, threats, abuse and control. A man with his words and behaviors can make a woman feel valued and wonderful or sick, humiliated and dirty.  Men who want to make a woman feel dirty are dirty in their mind, body and soul.

Emotionally and mentally healthy men admire women and enjoy complimenting them on and about their attractiveness, womanliness intelligence and beauty. Sick, perverted men get off on sadistic harm, threats and holding power-over.

Today, those with a distorted mind, emotionally stunted and perverted are destroying the natural interaction between a male and female. Some females are overly sensitive and defensive and some men are crude and needy – utilizing exploitation, power-over, along with rule, dominate and control, to fulfill their neediness and perversions. This is the opposite of mental and emotional health in regards to sexuality.

Some practices cover a woman’s beauty because of a man’s  inability to control himself  and his sexual perversions. While also blaming a woman for the man’s actions and inability to control himself.

It’s about manners, morals, ability to control themselves, mental and emotional health. We cannot let those with  twisted minds control us by their sick perversions..

The answer to this dilemma is for each to learn about self…

A book about awareness…


Books by Ayn




Also available on Amazon and online Barnes and Noble, etc.

In Part Four of Daddy Throws Me In The Air …

is a process to assist in releasing limiting and negative imprints and emotions. I have used in on the large things in my life to what seems like the simplest…

Excerpt – and example:

Whatever you try to deny or hide from will return in either your mind or body. Much illness is created by buried feelings, emotions, and beliefs that cause stress and fear which wreak havoc in your body.

If you are stuck feeling some emotion such as anger, ask yourself:

– What do you gain by staying stuck?

– What serves you to feel the way that you feel?

– What are the benefits of staying in anger?

– Does it make you feel like you are holding something over someone’s head?

– Does is make you feel like you have more power if you stay in your anger?

– Do you feel temporarily stronger staying in anger?

I have found that when someone stays stuck in an emotion at length, it’s usually because they think that it benefits them in some way. Their thinking this may not be accurate, but it’s one way that they find to cope. It can be used an as excuse to not do this and so. If they hold onto their indignant, self-righteous anger then it keeps the person or situation at bay and they don’t have to deal with the real issues, such as their part in it, their fear, their loss, or that they become aware by self-reflection.  Anger can eat a person up inside, if held too long. It can/may help you to feel stronger for a while to get through something in a limited time frame, but if held too long it will block love and joy.

Anger is there to be felt – looked at, used for healing and awareness then let go. And the way to get through anger is to understand, accept and to forgive. This does not mean to forget, but to forgive. You can still remember as in factually but when you forgive, the emotional charge is gone from your energy and out of your body. Why forgive? Because when the charge, the trigger is gone, you are free. The act of forgiveness opens your internal emotional channels for all else to flow and for you to be able to be filled with pleasant emotions. Nothing will block the flow as intensely as holding onto anger.

If you are holding onto a negative emotion, ask yourself why. How do you benefit from holding onto it? And if you let it go, process through it, what would you lose or what would you gain?

All emotions and the feelings connected to them are worthwhile. The difference is that some carry positive energy and others negative. Let the negative flow through you as quickly as possible. When we are clear of the negative, we are open for the positive to fill us up. Would you rather walk around feeling sad and depressed or happy and content?

 


Books by Ayn



The Christmas Stockings – excerpt from Daddy Throws Me In The Air….

I am eleven or twelve 

I want to make my mom and dad something special.   We all have stockings. They don’t have any. I know I’ll make them the most beautiful Christmas stockings in the whole world. I’ve saved my allowance and have about five dollars. I’m going to the ‘Five and Dime’ to purchase all the items that I will need to make the stockings.

Image result for Photos of Christmas stockingsI spend hours looking at all the decorations. I find some plain red and white stockings. I get glitter, bells, holly and bows – the perfect decorations for the perfect stockings. I have just enough money to get what I need – the stockings, glue, green and gold glitter and the other adornments. I purchase all the stocking ingredients and hurry home to my room to create.

With the glue – scissors – glitter – my work is in progress. First, I spell mom and dad on the white furry part at the top of the stockings with the glue.   Then I sprinkle the glitter on the glue.   WOW! These are going to turn out better than I imagined. Mom and dad will love them and love me for making them. When I’m not working on the stockings, I hide all the stuff under my bed.

My grandmother, NaNa and aunts come to visit.   I show my grandmother the stockings.   She thinks they are beautiful and encourages me. “You’re so creative and sweet to make them for your parents.” I tell her that I need more stuff to put on the stockings and I don’t have any more money.   I can’t ask my Mom for more money because the stockings are a secret. My grandmother gives me some money. When we all go out to do errands, I have the opportunity to secretively buy more decorations for the stockings. They’re turning out so well, better than the ones in the stores. My parents are going to LOVE them!

My mom enters my room unexpectedly and says, “What’s all this mess? You’re making a big mess! I have enough to do with Christmas coming and visitors without all of your mess.”   I respond, “Momma, I’m making a Christmas surprise!” She responds, “I don’t care what you are making. Clean up this mess! You’re getting stuff in the carpet and the maid has just left for the day. CLEAN IT UP!”

I’m upset but think to myself, ‘When she sees what I’ve made, she’ll forget all about the mess. The beautiful Christmas stockings will please her so much’.

A few days later after changing, arranging and letting the glue set, the stockings are ready. My grandmother and aunts think they are beautiful.

I run up the stairs to give them to my mother and father. My mother says, “They’re pretty – but your dad and I don’t need stockings. Santa doesn’t visit us and besides there’s nowhere to put them.”

I don’t remember what my dad said. My heart is broken. I had worked so hard. I wanted to please my parents to give them something from my heart. I wanted their love and attention.

I thought the stockings were pretty and that mattered, too. I thought they would look pretty hanging with all the other stockings, but my mother didn’t think they would. She said that it would be too cluttered. My grandmother said that she loved my stockings. Her saying this made me feel better.

I kept the stockings in my room until it was time to pack up the Christmas decorations.   Then I stuck them in the boxes with all the other decorations.

Many years later – in a different house, we were getting out Christmas decorations and my mother pulled the stockings out of a box. She said, “These are pretty. Wonder where they came from? Let’s hang them on the fireplace hooks”. I said, “I made them mother. I made them for you and daddy. Don’t you remember?”

She had a blank look on her face. I’m not sure if she even heard me but she did put them on the fireplace hooks. She never said a word about whether she remembered me making the stockings or not. I didn’t want to say anything more about the stockings because it hurt me so deeply that she didn’t even remember that I’d made them.

The stockings are hung up every Christmas and no one remembers where they came from or who made them.

But I do! They were made with all the love I had. When I see them I remember. I remember the little girl and how she loved so much and wanted to please and make her parents a gift from her heart. I love that little girl and hold her in my heart forever.

My mother could not – would not acknowledge my love for her.   She did not – could not see or feel the joy and love that I was feeling as I made my gift for her and my dad.

As an adult, I know my mother doesn’t like holidays.   She doesn’t like having extra things to do. She can barely get through her day doing ordinary things. Holidays are just an extra bother for her and she can’t wait until they’re over. She dreads putting up a Christmas tree. She is always stressed and angry in the holiday season. She has no joy!

It’s sad to me because I love the holiday season. I love to decorate the house and putting up the Christmas tree is one of the most joyous things I do at Christmas!

One year, many years later during the holiday season, my mother called to say that my father and she were going to their Yacht for Christmas. She stated that she was so glad because she did not have to deal with all the Christmas stuff. She went on and on about how she was so sick of Christmas. Then she asked me what I was going to do for Christmas.

At the time, I did not have the money to even purchase a tree.   I wanted a tree badly, but it would have been an extravagance for me to get one that year. I answered my mother by saying, “Not much, perhaps, I’ll spend the day with friends.” She asked, “Are you going to put up a tree?” I replied that I did not have the money for a tree. She either didn’t hear me or she just ignored what I said and asked, “Aren’t you going to lots of parties?” I responded, “Sure there are always lots of parties.”

When I hung up the phone, I cried. I thought isn’t it bizarre that a person who wants a tree so badly, can’t afford one? And some people, who can buy anything they want, think Christmas is a bother and it’s too much trouble to put up a tree.

I do understand that all the decorations and celebrations can get over done and that going away on a Yacht is a nice way to spend Christmas, too.

Image result for Photos of Christmas TreesAnother year, after a divorce and I was alone in my house. My ex-husband had moved his grand piano out. I got the biggest Christmas tree that I could find and placed it in the corner where the grand piano once was. It took me days to decorate the tree, pulling a ladder around it the higher I went up to place the ornaments on the tree. After it was completed, it was fabulous! I would turn the lights on and lay under the tree as if I was a child. I cherish this Christmas memory!

I love the holidays, but some negative feelings come up. I don’t like to give gifts to my parents because I never feel that they like what I give them. It feels good to give to them because I love them, but I feel they are critical of whatever it is that I give. They are critical of what I give them just like they are critical of everything about me. My mother is always so full of stress at the holiday season that she can’t enjoy and truly see all the love that is trying to be expressed.

I believe the best thing about Christmas is the love that it gives us for the opportunity to express – the giving of love and remembrance of the birthday of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ…

For the gift of awareness leading to healing…


Books by Ayn



Shopping in my own closet…

When I was a young person in my twenties, going to college and living at my parents,  I went to classes, shopped and socialized. I loved fashion. I was pretty much a fashionista, needing a different couturier, designer dress or outfit for every date or occasion. If we were going to the lake, I needed a new swimsuit, cover-up and shorts outfit. This was in the time, when women really dressed. We wore dresses and heels to most all functions and kept our bodies fit in order to be able to wear the structured clothing . The way  I fit in and looked in whichever designer dress I wore was the most important aspect of my life – my silhouette must be sleek. What I wore mattered to the max and I  had to have just the ‘right’ outfit – look the best –  make an entrance – with all eyes looking for what ‘I’ would be wearing.  It was part of who I was   – it was my image and I had to keep it up – no matter how time consuming, costly or tedious it was to do so.

I was dating a college man two years older than myself. He was in Air Force ROTC , was getting ready to graduate and enter flight school. So, not only were there his dances and luncheons to attend at the General’s house, etc, but my social functions –  arts, ballet, etc.

I was a fortunate young lady with permission and authority to charge whatever I wanted to my parent’s accounts.  I was a  young society daughter of a wealthy man. I had a long walk-in closet full of clothes, shoes and bags. It was the beginning of spring and I spent hours at all the upscale shops selecting, trying on and purchasing clothes. When at home, I would have my head buried in Vogue, Town and Country,  Image result for Vogue circa 19 75and other fashion mags to see what to wear where and who was wearing what.

One afternoon, I was in a shop on the hunt for the perfect dress for a luncheon and found one. I asked the store manager to please charge it. She returned to tell me that my mother had closed my privilege to charge and that I needed to speak with her and they would be happy to hold the dress, until they heard further from me. You see, I was a well-known and valued patron.

Mortified, but calmly and with authority I stated, ” It must be a mistake. I will talk to mom and get back with you.”

When I returned home  – “Mother, I found a dress I liked and they said that you stopped my ability to charge. Why?! What is going on? I need that dress!  I have nothing to wear!”

Her reply, “You have a closet full of clothes. I think you can get through the summer without buying another thing. At the end of the summer, we will talk about it.”

In horror, What?!  You must be kidding! I have absolutely nothing to wear! Nothing! Do you want  me to look awful?  Do you want me to wear some old rag?” As I think, ‘That’s really it. She wants me to look terrible and have nothing to wear.’ You see, my mother and I never got along. I state, “I will ask Daddy, he will let me get it.”

Her reply, “Your father and I made this  decision together. You have  a closet full of beautiful clothes .”

Truth is I had everything any girl my age could ever want or dream of but I didn’t think or realize that then – I just wanted more. I had clothes from all the designers  of the day – Calvin Klein, Mollie Parnis,, Adele Simpson, Alpert Nipon, Chanel, Dior – a closet full of  Image result for photos of a dark haired woman in designer apparelbeautiful clothing in fabulous fabrications and styles. But that didn’t matter because I must have this particular dress because it was the perfect dress and by owning it then I would feel and be ‘perfect’.  This dress would complete me.

Instead, I found myself struck mortified in a young woman’s fashion dilemma of alternatively wanting, inability to purchase and  shame to be without. I went to my room petrified of a summer ahead with NO new clothes.  I wondered could I live that long with nothing new to wear. I  sat on my bed  and pondered as I  looked towards the entrance of my closet. Then I arose and entered it. I started going through the racks of clothing. I was amazed. I had clothes and clothes that I didn’t  even realize I had and they were great. Cuter than the dress that I wanted and thought I needed.   I plotted my revenge, ‘I’ll show my cruel and hateful mother. I will create outfits out of what I have and will look better than ever. I will show her!’ And so I did.

I began to love being shoppingly creative in my own closet. I had a great summer and felt like I wore the perfect outfit to every occasion.  Actually, I felt like there was a weight off my shoulders –  a monkey off my back – the weight of feeling the need and drive to shop and to continually have something new and different –  left me that summer.

That summer was a big lesson that taught me much. You need much less than you think you do. And if you keep buying new, you will miss out on what you already have. I had incredible clothing in my closet, but I just kept pushing them to the back to fit in the new.  I lost some of my desire to shop after summer – well, of course, not entirely  and not at all times, ( I can still get into that shopping mode at times) but…I learned to use what I have, to stop thinking I always need more or new  in order to feel satisfied – that a new something or other changes little to nothing – once the newness wears off, it’s back to square one looking for something else new for the momentary rush, thrill and excitement.  Sometimes, what you already have is better than what you think you need to attain.

Side bar – Sure young people get into fashion neediness, thinking if they don’t wear a certain item that they won’t be cool and accepted. Advertisers and those who drive fashion know this.  That is why fashion and styles change, from long skirts to short, high heels to flat. Your eye gets used to seeing a new look and then to desire it. It’s marketing at its finest con.  I wish more people were focused on ‘real fashion’ today. When the ‘Flower Children’ made their entrance with their sloppy jeans and tee shirts,  it seems the world continued to lose some of its fashion elegance and now we are falling into bizarre.  Many people seem to have lost pride in their appearance and don’t know what appropriateness is regarding clothing. Perhaps, with the Trumps in the White House, elegance and taste will make a return.

Awarenesses gleaned from that summer of no shopping:

Fashion is fun. Shopping is fun! But not fulfilling for long.

The dress doesn’t make you – you make the dress. A garment doesn’t make you perfect… you make you – ‘YOU’ Who you are inside makes you – ‘YOU’ – Not some garment or item.

What is that great old saying?  You think the grass is greener but it isn’t and this applies to so many things in life.

How about become aware and focus on the art of shopping in your own closet in every area of your life…

A gift of awareness…


Books by Ayn