Father’s Day – 2013 ‘My Father & the Road Runner’

Roadrunner tweets in the afterlife...

Road Runner tweets in the afterlife…

Road Runner on the verge...

Road Runner on the verge…

 

There he was, in an instant, racing across the highway in front of me…It was Father’s Day and I was driving fast, on my way to somewhere.  I noticed this fleet-footed Road Runner zip across the road in front of me, his legs and feet moving so fast, they formed a wheel-like blur.  I stopped my car on a dime as the breaks squealed  and came to a halt.

 

Sure enough,  this was a Road Runner Bird!  I had never seen one  before, in real life.  My gaze upon this bird was as strong as the Road Runner’s gaze upon me!  We simply stopped in a moment of time and looked each other in the eye.  What was he trying to tell me?  In our complete stillness, we observed each other in silence.  I noticed the road was hot, the pavement dark, and the sand near his feet close by.  I also noticed he was alone…there was no other Road Runner or Coyote near his side.

 

In an instant a huge smile came across my face…I realized in this very moment that this was my Father’s way of saying ‘Hello Baby Doll, how are you?’  And of course, it was the Road Runner bird as a real life symbol that had never shown up before in my life. . . until today, Father’s Day.  Road Runner was my Dad’s very favorite cartoon when I was a child, and I remember his laughter when we watched these cartoons together.  Beep!  Beep!  He adored Road Runner!

 

My Father’s laughter was always contagious and spread like wildfire to a room full of people.  He was always full of joy, and  laugher, and very authentic.  Even if you did not know what it was he was laughing about, the deep roots of  his laughter would come up and out of him, from the very center of his heart and belly,  and it would ignite an entire room instantaneously.

 

The last night I shared with my father was one of those joyful nights, full of love and laughter.  We were dining at a restaurant in Malibu, CA with my mother, brother and a few friends.  It was New Year’s Eve and the energy was festive and joyful.  By the second course my mother decided to take a family photograph.  As she held up the camera and clicked on her old Kodak, the camera was reversed and she actually took a picture of herself.  My father howled with laughter, partly because of the way he adored her and all her silly ways…

 

His unstoppable laughter that night on New Year’s Eve quickly spread to every one of us at the table, which then spread to our neighbors tables, until the entire restaurant was full of laughter.  One person at a time, one moment at a time, my father’s  joy and laughter  filled the entire room and atmosphere of the restaurant.  It was an unstoppable energy of JOY!  Tears of laughter!  Tears of Joy!  What a beautiful memory of my father!

 

This was the last night I shared with my Father.  It was a very good night!  The next day he packed his bags and went home, only to go out to sea on a ship the next day, where he would lose his life.

 

When I saw the Road Runner today, I knew it was my Father, showing up to greet me on this day with a symbol that I could recognize in this earth suit.  I smiled.  I laughed and I cried.  The Coyote (life challenges) always sets up a trap for the Road Runner bird, and the scheme always backfires.  Road Runner is never captured or damaged by the life challenge, but proceeds ahead with a characteristic “Beep!  Beep!”  That was my Father’s calling to me today….”Keep going Baby Doll…Proceed ahead, even through these challenging times.  Keep moving forward.  Keep beeping your Beep!  Beep!”

 

Road Runner is rooted in his adherence to a set of rules that retain equal sympathy for both the hapless coyote and his speedy prey, the Road Runner that would humiliate, but never harm the coyote.

Beep!  Beep!  Keep Going….Keep Moving Forward…Proceed Ahead!  Keep Beeping your own unique Beep!  Beep!

 

 

 

 

 

The Touch of a Woman’s Hand

A Woman's Touch

A Woman’s Touch

June 1, 2013

The Touch of a Woman           – by Rita Tanos

 

I had forgotten what it felt like to be living authentically in my own feminine power.  Those feelings of lightness, sweetness, and grace seemed like a past history of another life that I was no longer a part of.  So many years of challenge, struggle and loss began to show their wear and tear, especially on my hands and the tips of my fingers.

 

Once beautiful and elegant, with perfectly manicured nails, my hands now looked like a gardener’s hand, mowing lawns, seeding vines, and doing hard labor.  What was I cultivating?  I had not noticed them for a long time.  Until today.  They were clean, but the texture of my skin had changed, as did my perfectly feminine manicure.  I had to take a closer look to see what they wanted to tell me.  Surely there must be a message here, on the tips of my fingers and palms of my hands.

 

I noticed that the years of tapping on my computer keyboard, writing volumes of sorrow and grief  in my book were somehow indented on the tips of my fingers.  All those emotions that flowed up and out of me these last years were ingrained like a spider’s web, circling the imprints of my thoughts onto my body.  Had my fingerprints changed?  Did the swirls of my DNA look any different today than they did when I felt strong, feminine and beautiful?  I wondered…

 

Did my daughter’s death vibrate so violently throughout my body and soul that I now had a new imprint?  Where was the tenderness?  Where was the sweetness?  Where was that graceful, elegant woman I knew myself to be just a couple years ago?  Where did my humor go?  Where did my affections go?  Where did my passion go?  Where did ‘I’ go?  I wondered…

 

Feeling the depths of this hard labor camp called grief and loss, I finally found myself sowing new seeds of hopes and dreams more than a year later.  Slowly, very slowly, they came…one at a time.  I wanted to feel love again.  I wanted to feel life again. I wanted to feel beautiful again.  I wanted to feel ‘me’ again!  But most of all, I wanted to feel love again. Love for myself and love for all sentient beings.  And I longed to share my life with a loving partner.

 

This path of pain and sorrow that left me feeling weak, fragile, and uncertain was beginning to morph into tenderness and sweetness once again.  While I ached for closeness with my self and others, I wanted to feel my full, open heart.  Where was it?  Surely somewhere very close by, inside my beautiful self.

 

So began the journey of my heart into a deeper, more spacious, more luxurious place.  As I dug through so many layers of these locked chambers inside my heart, I realized that I did not even know they existed.  Locked so tightly in place, and frozen with rusted ancient wounds, they were invisible to my conscious awareness.  How could I possibly exist like this?

 

Throughout the excavation of this dark night, I trusted that the deep longing of my soul held the rusty keys to this secret hiding place where I would find my inner radiance once again. . . where I would feel love again.  As my journey took me to the bottom of the earth, digging through hardened layers of dark, black gravel, I began to find this tunnel of light.

 

I knew all I had to do was Trust.  One step at a time, one day at at time, one moment at a time, one breath at a time, every day.  I had to Trust that no matter what was happening in my life, and no matter how it looked right now, something amazing, huge, and incredible was going to come out of this.  Something way bigger than me!

 

My hardened, grieving heart became soft once again, like a whisper in the breeze when I heard my daughter’s voice speaking to me in the wind.  Like grist for the mill that was as tough as nails, I suddenly melted like smooth snow and transformed those rough, hardened edges into fluid, flowing water.  Like Grace, the downpour of streaming tears broke every rusted chain inside my heart, one by one, link by link.

 

In deep gratitude, I kneeled and kissed the earth.  As I rose up, for the first time in years, I stood tall and proud and felt the power and the Presence of this magnificent Woman inside of me.  With my gardener’s hands across my heart, I could also see the hands of a beautiful woman. . .Loving.  Kind.  Compassionate.  Gentle.  Soft.  Sweet.  Tender.  Warm.  Feminine.  Powerful.  I felt the touch of a Woman’s hand, as I held my own hand with Loving Kindness, Gratitude and Appreciation.

 

The touch of a woman’s hand has the power to heal and change lives.  Even our own lives!