Posts Tagged ‘spirit’

For the past ten years I have composed a weekly inspirational letter called Friday’s Child. The Friday’s Child Circle Of Prayer is attached to this letter. Sign on at my website http://www.AlexandraBrooks.com Here is a sample.

***We are the living links in a force that moves and plays through and around us. – Alan Chadwick


We easily miss the simple joy in our daily lives. To be present and mindful, to really show up for life can be a challenge at the best of times and daunting when we are distracted by discontent. We need the re-focusing powers of joy to really en-joy our time here on earth. Once we set our intention joy is easily found. It is there as the first pink glimpse of cherry blossoms in Spring. It is there as the chocolate covered smile of child next door. It is there as the first whiff of coffee brewing in the morning. It is there as the book you fell asleep with while reading last night. Everyday happenings are colored with delight. We just need to remember to remember this. Be there. Show up. Connect to our lives life with the same willingness we connect to our favorite song thrilling the air every time we hear it. Through joy we learn to love and be loved. Through love we find our purpose in life.

The Truth Is: If we knew how to love we would find love everywhere.

Join The Circle. Wrapped in Healing White Light and the Violet Light of Wisdom, pray. Divine; Remind me to reflect Love in all that I do today. Thank You. For all those in The Friday’s Child Circle of Prayer and for all those in need of You. We send… Love, Light and Oceans of Bliss for the Highest Good of all. And so it is! Amen.



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 It is the middle of July and on this balmy hotter than July day I find it is “sweet to do nothing.” I wasn’t always able to own doing nothing. For the better part of my life I had to be busy-busy-busy or I felt as though I was a lazy loafer just wasting my time. These days a few hours (or an entire day) of  listening to music, reading a novel, watching reality tv, having a long conversation with good friend on the phone and playing “catch” with my kitty Marcello Mastroianni is the heaven I know. I find now that I actually know how to  relax I am  able to magnetize more interesting people into my life. People who actually love life! I have moved away from the dawn of the desperate and into the salon of the pretty darn clever.

 I have a seminar series I offer on the phone called Life In The Mirror. The seminar is based on the theory that life as you know it is a reflection of your soul-life. Who you are, what you are, and who you may want to consider being. The people we attract into our lives mirror what we love and what we fear. The toughest trials and relationships reflect bits and pieces of our disowned selves. These particular relationships have the emotional charge of a live cable wire. We are fiercely attracted but uncomfortable (to say the least) in them. Shamed and disconcerted by them. The stronger the denial the closer we move into the mirror. At some point we realize it is time to accept, surrender, and integrate the disowned self. Our lives are at sixes and sevens until we do. Oh, let me count the ways! In my life I over-identified with being “on purpose” i.e. useful. So, of course I attracted in people who wouldn’t know their purpose if they tripped over it in broad daylight. Send in the clowns. Depressed, world-weary, clueless, whiney, useless, b-o-r-i-n-g boring!

 If you disown your power you will attract in people in who use power. My judgmental attitude and fear of being a professional lay-a-bout kept me in a spin. When you are spinning you don’t see life very clearly. These days I get “my stuff” done but I take my loafing seriously. As a reward for my awakening I find myself swimming in waters with an exotic class of fish…I mean people. People who know their porpoise, I mean their purpose, and know how to be joyful and grateful at the same time. I’m so NOT bored. Have a sweet one!

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I have a new boyfriend. I fall in love with someone on a weekly basis at the very least. Can’t help myself. Most usually it is someone who is beyond excellent at what they do. Someone who knows their stuff and does it with panache. Someone I have never met. I guess we can call these little flights of admiration a crush? I guess. I have women on my crush list also. Been carrying a torch for Coco Chanel since I was 21! Why not? She was perfection and she liberated women from those godawful restraints they used to call clothes! My latest crush is on a fella I’ve been watching on HGTV. (Don’t tell Smokey Robinson or Nouriel Roubini, OK?)  Mike Holmes (Holmes on Homes) has not replaced my great love for The Smoke or Dr. Doom but he is currently a part of my personal holy trinity. Why? Because we all need a hero and Mr. Holmes is a hero if ever there was one. Mike is a Canadian building contractor. Every week on HGTV, Mike walks into some fresh hell another builder has left behind for some unwitting home owner. The home owner is usually facing the worst possible contractor rip-off story ever. Electrical fiascos, plumbing-to-nowhere, the house at risk of caving in on itself because the foundation has been compromised by a sociopath posing as a building contractor. Imagine your worst renovation nightmare and Holmes On Homes deals with it. Once Mike enters the scene it is just a matter of time before he rights the wrongs and all is well on the home front.

 Mike’s crew includes his three children. The crew works day and night until Mike is happy with the result. And Mike ain’t happy until it’s perfect. He has even been known to use his own money to finish a project properly for the people who have been taken in. We are talking hundreds of thousands of dollars here. There is just sumthin’ about Mike? A gal has no immunity from that kind of charm. He saves the day every time. He does it with grace, kindness, and human decency. Some bad guy has done something to someone so unfair and Mike, the good guy in overalls, corrects the injustice. He is an absolute inspiration. As stated before we need our heroes. It doesn’t matter if the hero is just an honest working stiff. Or a woman willing to stand up for the freedom of another woman in a country she will never set foot in. It doesn’t matter if the hero breaks the rules or follows them. Anyone doing the right thing when it is far easier, more profitable, and totally acceptable to do otherwise is a hero. At least in my eyes. Ya gotta love a person like that. I manage to find one on any given day and fall in love with them…just a little. It’s Memorial Day here in The States. A day we set aside every year to honor our fallen military heros. Bless them all. And thank heaven not all our heroes are dead heroes. Have a sweet one!

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I am a great believer in remaining present. But when we give in to despair and stop believing in new possibility, sometimes the answer is in the past. If you lack spiritual stability a fall from grace is inevitable. Whenever I feel as though I may have lost my seat on the Success Express I do this exercise. It has never failed to reconnect me to forgiveness and healing. I close my eyes and recall the first home I ever knew as a child. Our family jokingly called it The Green Mansion. By the time I was born, the two-story Victorian beauty with the deep front porch already had decidedly faded charms. The house was located on The Bluffs in Pittsburgh’s Hill District. In those days the steel mills were still in full-time operation and the acrid smell of the river (“The Mon”) permeated not only Cliff Street but half of the city of Pittsburgh. In my mind I walk up the stairs to my childhood home and enter the dark, dank hallway. I visit and revisit every corner, thought and feeling I can muster, as I time travel through the days I spent there. I go back to remember. This was the place where I experienced my first feelings of love and disappointment. This was where I heard my first jazz and climbed my first cherry tree. This was where I ate my first Sunday dinners surrounded by a huge, crazy, loud, loving family. This is where time lost its way. This was my beginning. Different than some beginnings. Not perfection but perfect just the same. Bittersweet and mine. The past is huge. Sometimes the shadow side of yesterday can haunt and daunt. All we can ever do is use it as an anchor to build a bridge and let life whisper in the new day. We’ve all come a long way. All of us. From blame to blessing. From denial to acceptance. From grief to relief. All of it serving the sacred. All of it there to give birth to and welcome the gifts we have to offer today. Sometimes it will take a trip to yesterday to remind you of the blessings of today. The present will still be here waiting for you upon return.

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Have you ever had someone come back into your life after a long absence? You are used to navigating your days successfully without them. Now here they are trying to insinuate themselves onto your radar screen once more. It’s strange isn’t it? At some point they let go of the relationship they had with you. Whether there was benign indifference or active contempt in play, at the time, they had their reasons. Reasons they felt “right” about. Right enough to vent those reasons out loud and say goodbye. Ya know, I tend to protest for a minute when I feel I am being inappropriately dismissed. I then find after my initial resistance acceptance comes quickly. I let go and get on with things. I don’t think I have ever spent an entire week mooning over the loss of any relationship to date. What’s the point? It doesn’t change anything. Over is over, right? Apparently not for everyone.

Seasons change and we change with them. We all have our strong points. I easily forgive. I suppose others easily forget. I wish my memory were not so long. I wish forgiving meant forgetting. I wish there were never feelings hurt. Unkind words expressed. Promises unkept. What should we do? Well, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to finish writing this blog. Get some much-needed sleep. Hopefully, wake-up tomorrow. I will act as if my relationship status has not changed at all because it hasn’t. I still have the same friends, family, and loved ones I had yesterday. I’m still livin’ alone and lovin’ it. I will continue to prosper and do well. The comings and goings of vexation in human form doesn’t affect my world at all. Clueless people will continue to walk into our lives and walk out with some regularity. Refuse to react to mindless inconsideration and whim. Never let the opinion of a fool break your heart or delay your journey. We have work to do here. It is easier done in the company of those who play well with others. Capisce? Have a sweet one!

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It’s Saint Patrick’s Day. As my family is from the Middle East/Mediterranean parts of the globe – I am not so Irish. I  just love St. Patty’s because there is a feeling of joy and goodwill at the heart of the celebration. The whisky and green beer libations probably don’t hurt either. Look, any excuse to wish anyone a Happy Anything is a beautiful thing as far as I am concerned. At least the intention is there to lift someone up and put a smile on their face. Most of us are in the habit of sending kind thoughts to those we love. Often we will send prayers of support to those we don’t know but are in need. I have a prayer circle attached to the weekly letter Friday’s Child. I also have an altar I use to center my intentions and do what ever I can for my family, clients, and friends by way of Higher Thought.

 By a window in my great room resides a table full of photos in tiny frames I have collected over the years. My friend asked me the other day if I didn’t get tired of dusting and cleaning all those dozens of mementos all of the time. Truthfully, I am at a point in my life where if I never saw another feather duster or bottle of Windex? I would die a very happy, dusty kinda gal. Just this one little chore of tending to these pictures is still a joy to me. As I pick up each of these treasures I think about the person in the picture. I try to get a feeling for how they are that day. Are they happy? Are they healthy? Are they prospering? How are their loved ones doing? I end this ritual with a prayer for their Highest Good and the hope that all is well for them. If you start your day wishing others well you can’t go wrong. You can only feel better when you offer kind thoughts into the daily mix. Kind thoughts for others has the benefit of pulling up the “off notes” of the day to bring us into the harmony of life. Now as I am as full of the blarney as the next person here is my Not So Irish Blessing for you. “May angels strive to protect you. May the your heart of love shine bright. May sweet comfort be yours always. Good health, good luck, goodnight.”



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There is one blossom blooming on the pear tree by the balcony of my loft. Cheery, plum, almond, apple, and a sunny yellow NoCali offering is blooming crazy showing out all over West County. But at Woodstone Corners just one little pear blossom has been brave enough to show its lovely face. Maybe she’s shy? That’s OK. Miss Pear Tree will flower like a trooper when she is darn good and ready. I had errands to run and the day was just perfection. The ocean at Portuguese Beach was a dapper cerulean blue. The sky, a sumptuous bed of marshmallow clouds. Pairs of everything lit up the emerald green countryside. A pair of ducks splashing on the side of the road in a puddle the size of a wading pool. A couple of cows sunning themselves, obviously enjoying each others company away from the rest of the herd. Twin chickens pecked about in the short grass for a seasonal organic luncheon. It was one of those days that mark a new beginning. A truer way of being. Almost haunting but in a good way. Sweet and wild. A day like the day I first heard Coltrane. Something captured all of my senses and sensibilities on that magical Coltrane hearin’ day, and I have never been quite the same since. I was walking on the bluffs above the river where the steel mills ran 24/7 in those days. A certain iron fueled, acrid, blanket of scent would rise up from the murky water around dusk everyday. It was a Sunday. I could hear the grown ups laughing and carrying on as their weekly traveling poker game ensued. I don’t think there was a real gambler among them. Life was hard. The card game was the Great Penny-Ante Escape. You could hear the gratitude in the laughter and name calling. It was Summertime, every window on Cliff Street was open. Everyone’s business in the street. The fella living in the “brownstone brick” across the way had his Admiral Hi-Fi turned up loud.  Coltrane’s “Lazy Bird” kissed the air and lingered there like the ever-present smoke of my Aunt’s Kool Menthols. The sound of that music made me feel more alive than I had ever been. It shook me and grounded me to the earth. The feeling was overwhelming and then came the tears.  After the tears came a blissful smile I could not wipe off of my face. I remember thinking, this must be how angels feel when they go back to heaven. I wore that music home. This one pear blossom day felt so familiar. Life affirming and real.  A Love Supreme. Like hearin’ Coltrane for the first time while angels laugh out loud in heaven.

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