Under a Red Roof

First Rejection

June 2, 2008 in Feeling, Writing by Colleen | 1 comment

I received my first rejection today. The bummer part is that it wasn’t even a letter, just a mass printed 3 X 5 card paper clipped to my manuscript.

Thank you for your inquiry. We read it with interest, but the project described is not one we believe would fit into our current publishing plans.

We cannot, therefore, encourage its submission, but we wish you the best of luck in placing it with the most appropriate publisher.

I wish it didn’t hurt to read it. I feel sad, but not crying sad. Bummed in a wouldn’t it have been great to have the first publisher I submitted to be the ONE? Alas, it is not to be. I am only left to wonder what it is to be, for life has the best poker face (and my friend Becky too – she’s good, very good).

Now this is me envisioning myself as the man in the picture, breaking through the wall to the right publisher. It’s bound to happen. Oh yeah, that’s right…

Question of the Week

May 22, 2008 in Being, Feeling, Thinking by Colleen | 1 comment

Via Superhero Journal – What can you let go of in order to manifest that good thing in your life?

Having to understand everything. Holy frijoles! I become so incredibly bogged down by believing I need to have the answers. Why must I know why something is happening instead of just observing that it is? Why am I sick or healthy? Why do I feel depressed or happy or angry or silly?

Sure, it is nice to be aware and understand myself as a person, but sometimes it is so crippling that it prevents me from truly enjoying myself and actually living in the moment. After all, this moment is the only one that is mine to experience, and then it’s gone.

I can let go of needing to know the answers. I can just be. It feels good to see it in print.

Touching the Universe

May 3, 2008 in Being, Feeling, Practicing, Receiving by Colleen | Permalink

Something amazing happened to me the other day, mind blowing, wonderful kind of amazing. I was finishing my yoga practice with a meditation before shavasana, something I don’t normally incorporate for reasons of time and laziness.

Anyway, as I was sitting there, listening to Shiva’s kind voice, I felt my body moving, only I didn’t feel like I was the one doing it. It was just happening, smooth and effortless, a birch branch slowly oscillating in the breeze. As I continued to move, I had this sensation of fullness, effervescence. I could no longer tell where my body ended and the rest of the universe began. In my closed eyes, I could see and feel billions of tiny bubbles of light pulsing and emanating to and from what I can only guess was the essence of all being: me, you, the sun, moon, and stars.

As you might imagine, it was exhilarating. It brought me the greatest sense of joy, peace, and wonder, and the moment I became fully conscious of what was happening, I wanted it to continue, to watch where it might take me, but, of course, in this same moment, I made the connection back to my thinking mind, and it was over, leaving me with tiny traces of its perfection.

Thinking about it now, I feel a bit empty but in the most positive way. Empty of pain, worry, suffering, and full of hope at the possibility of my life and our world. Now I am sharing it with you.

Namaste…

Tags: Shiva Rea, Yoga

Small Joy

April 20, 2008 in Feeling, Receiving by Colleen | 1 comment

I love to find treasure. Sometimes it is a perfectly formed pine cone. Other times is is a leaf, a bird chirping, or the sight of the biggest, shiniest motorcycle kick stand. Then there are the pennies. I am thirty-six years old and still get jazzed when I find a penny. If my husband happens to be around, I squeal with delight. “Ooh looky Buddy (one of his pet names), a penny!”

He’s never nearly as enthusiastic about the penny, but does enjoy my reaction. He loves seeing me happy and excited. You see, wonder and beauty and gifts are all around us. We just have to keep our eyes open, pay attention, and feel the joy rise.

So, when I found this wonderful quotation, I thought, why I could have written this myself, so true is it to my view of the world.

“There are many things to see, unwrapped gifts and free surprises. The world is fairly studded and strewn with pennies cast broadside by a generous hand. But – and this is the point – who gets excited by a mere penny? If you follow one arrow, if you crouch motionless on a bank to watch a tremulous ripple thrill on the water and are rewarded by the sight of a muskrat paddling from its den, will you count that sight a chip of copper only, and go on your rueful way? It is dire poverty indeed when a man is so malnourished and fatigued that he won’t stoop to pick up a penny. But if you cultivate a healthy poverty and simplicity, so that finding a penny will literally make your day, then, since the world is in fact planted in pennies, you have with your poverty bought a lifetime of days. It is that simple. What you see is what you get.”

Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

May you find your own treasure on this beautiful day…

Crying Time

April 10, 2008 in Feeling, Listening by Colleen | Permalink

A funny fact about me: music makes me cry. Every time I listen to Old Blue Eyes sing the song “New York, New York” the tears start ‘a’ flowin’. You see, I’m kind of silly this way. Maybe it was all of that music in the womb. It hard-wired my brain to create profound connections between songs and my tear ducts. Sometimes it is a memory that triggers the tears. Other times, it happens on the first hearing and is far more mysterious: the voice? the notes? the instruments? Pianos cerainly seem to play a role.

These are the individual songs that will guarantee at least a welling in the eyes and why I believe it to be so. There are other songs that I cannot recall or have yet to hear. I also left out artists like Peter Gabriel, Chet Baker, Maria Callas, Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong (especially together), Beethoven, John Coltrane, and Mozart. Ooh la la! Listen to them in my company and watch me ride the rollercoaster.

1. “New York, New York” Frank Sinatra. I am speculating here, because sometimes it is hard for even me to tell, and I’m the one doing the crying. I think it was Frank’s gumption. The guy knew what he wanted and went for it in the biggest way. His Way!

2. The National Anthem. Okay, this one is easy. It may not be popular to say right now, but dammit, I am a patriot. I have traveled to quite a few foreign countries, and while they were all lovely, none suited me so well as this one. I am very proud to call the United States of America my home.

3. “Fanfare for the Common Man” Aaron Copland. Good golly miss Molly! The finest tribute to everyday kind of people. I get misty just thinking about it.

4. “A Song for You” Leon Russell. The long-haired, bearded god of seventies song lyrics. The opening piano just kills me. “I love you in a place where there’s no space or time. I love you for my life – you are a friend of mine. And when my life is over, remember when we were together. We were alone and I was singing this song to you.”

5. “Georgia” Ray Charles or Willie Nelson. Either singer brings on the flow, something about that long pause before singing Georgia a second time at the beginning. Though I am not from Georgia, this song is about home.

6, 7. “Blue Sunday” and “Indian Summer” The Doors. More love songs. The dreamy voice and music, the lovely lyrics, ahh…

8. “Suite Bergamesque” Claude Debussy. My view of the world comes into sharp focus when I listen to this. Being alive feels absolutely glorious!

9. “The Song is Over” The Who. Parting is such sweet sorrow, yet so wonderful, too.

9. “After the Goldrush” Neil Young. For me, this is the most beautiful representation of the end of my childhood. Everything I do has a consequence.

10. “When I Think of You” Janet Jackson. I have the most joyous memory associated with this song. I attended a high school football game with my friend Nancy (last name???). She drove this ginormous bomber of a station wagon, and we sang this at the top of our voices on the way home. Good times.

11. “Elderly Woman Behind a Counter in a Small Town” Pearl Jam. Eddie sings sweetly. A reminder to stay in the present.

12. “Fire and Rain” James Taylor. A mourning song, goodbye to all that can never be again.

13. “My Cherie Amour” Stevie Wonder. His voice and the lyrics are lovely as a summer day.

14. “Blackbird” The Beatles. Moving from Denver to Portland, I became the bird that learned to fly and see, and, yes, I had been waiting all my life.