laurabsings

I made a big change.  I followed a call.  I was drawn to Colorado, and to the sun, and to things not quite in my view yet.  Two months ago I moved about 30 miles from Denver, to a cabin, in the mountains. It's remote here, but I still need to connect with the internet powers, and to share my music during these extended pandemic times, and to ease into mountain living with a sprinkling of modernity. I found a broadband company who can service my area and last week they installed all the moving internet parts. Yay! No. slow ... slow ... "can't connect"...over and over, "can't connect"...  or WON'T, internet, be honest, is it can't or won't??  (I *may* have accidentally been talking to the modem, and the laptop, the broadband company.) I persisted, and as I prepared for this morning's Zoom service, I plugged my ethernet cable right into the modem and I was connected.  Wahooooo ! A half hour later, it couldn't connect again, despite being

No, not pizza, although ... YUM. Two slices of bread.  I made a sandwich today. Not a one slice hoping-the-sandwich-stuff-doesn't fall-on-the-plate version, but a two slices kind, one that secures all the good middle stuff.  The one-slice sammy is something super familiar to me, and to be honest has not always been the healthiest choice, emotionally-speaking. It has been a design to keep me "on track", carb-controlling, monitoring all that enters this body. My go-to on managing change, stress, fear ... Old stuff that shows up now and again. More on that in a bit. The two slices for lunch today secured the sandwich stuff and surprisingly also made ME feel secure, held, cozy and present.  Oh bread, you are a great teacher. See, I've spent the better part of my tweendom 'til now counting, monitoring, restricting: How much did I eat? How many calories was that? Do I look OK?  Are they judging me?  Am I judging me? Somewhere along my path I stopped enjoying food, forgo

When I arrived in Oregon eight years ago, it was an adjustment. We are from New York. End of post. Kidding. I noticed, and wasn't afraid to ask: "Where are all the black people?". Now asking a question like this came from an honest and innocent place inside me. And it also might be offensive to some. I understand the implications yet I'm still sharing this story because what followed was pretty impactful for me. New York is a port where peoples from all nations arrived to make a better life. They brought with them sadness for families left behind, excitement for new beginnings, and culture, food and language. Like folks who traveled to this West side of the country to explore new frontiers, there are new beginnings. Different experiences of it, but still important to note a similar story of leaving the nest for something better. New York is very different than Oregon because of the diversity of the influx of different cultures who arrived, and as a res

I just had an ah-ha, whilest scrubbing my teeths. I am emersed in Jewish and mystical study, and the study of spiritual and religious practices of the world,  more now than ever as I write my Sabbath Queen show. There is so much to know, so much to learn, and for this lifelong student, I'm in hog heaven. As a child, I always loved to learn. Moreso about people, and from people and situations, and less from a textbook. Looking back now, I think I thought the constant need for information wasn't the right way for a person to be. Maybe a teacher at school once told me to stop asking questions in class one day. Or maybe my line of questioning in different situations was provocative. Or maybe people didn't like always being under a microscope having to talk about themselves. Or ... I dunno. Here is my ah-ha: Judaism is a path where you may still not have learned everything even as you take your last breath. Prayers, Hebrew, stories, holidays and festivals, practices, commen

I'm in a constant state of retrieval. Retrieving lost parts of myself for recrafting purposes. Retrieving lost parts of myself that I gave away to others. Retrieving life moments for reliving purposes. Digging inside to remember who I am. Retrieving the light, a golden retriever.

For several months I was jamming through life, unaware, just barely present. Disconnected really. On this one day, I rested for a minute in front of my dresser. I was tired, sad, feeling pretty hopeless. I looked down onto the dresser's surface and saw what now appeared to me to be healing presences of all types - necklaces, charms, candles - all together in close proximity, some bracelet chains draped over mala beads, a hamsa resting next to an amber charm. I saw, well, I remembered in that moment that most of these trinkets and treasures had been given to me by this life's family members, each one with a special meaning, given with love and generosity. The light switched on, I smiled in great gratitude and then breathed a really deep breath, opened up my chest, and lowered my neck and opened to receive the peace I knew was mine. When I opened to receive, my heart space, inside and out, was warm. It was so good - I was at perfect peace. I don't think I had been