Mistaken

Was it all just one big mistake? Were the past five years of her life one not-so-glorious situation-normal-all-fouled-up? Had the decision to buy a 41-foot diesel pusher motorhome and travel full-time for a year or two or five or been the worst of her life?

Such angst coming from an ex-type A. The young girl who believed her parents when they said she could do whatever she put her mind to. The teenage girl who told her fellow McDonald’s crew members only a little in jest, “I thought I made a mistake once but I was wrong.” The young woman who at 27 held a bottle of Korbel high as she graduated from college summa cum laude, point-oh-three points shy of a perfect four-point-oh, and in three years too by the way. Eyes bright as she looked east towards Washington, D.C.

She’d always wanted to go to Georgetown and she usually got what she wanted. “Because you worked for it, honey,” she heard Mom’s voice in her ear. “And because you’re smart,” Dad added, “I don’t know how you knew what you did.” And Dad had a Ph.D. in electrical engineering from Loyola University. And everyone knew that electrical engineers were the smartest of them all.

Yeh, she was so smart.

Her plans started falling apart after graduate school. She wanted to be a spy but flunked the CIA’s psychological exam — too empathetic the penciled-in ovals concluded. Then she interviewed for the Foreign Service to be a diplomat but wasn’t good at game playing. None of that mattered now, almost 30 years down the road.

What did matter now was that the woman — never married, no children, just a dog but an awesome one at that — decided to start from scratch at age 51. Was she insane? Why did she chuck it all — a comfortable life pieced together over twenty-five years, a handful of close friends, a job if not at the top of her field then close?

“I have no choice,” she told her friends and co-workers as she methodically disassembled a predictable old life to create the foundation of an unknown new, “It’s either do this or die a slow death.” And she meant it.

And so she did what she did best. Put her head down, researched, planned. Finding the Newmar Dutch Star motorhome near Dallas; buying and paying off a Honda CR-V to tow behind; learning all she could about living on the road as a full-time RVer. The hardest part was selling her hobbit home in the Reston woods, her refuge.

Yeh, and then she had a plan. Her brilliant plan: No plan.  Nope.  No plan. Let’s see how that works out. And you said she was smart? Ha!

Life hasn’t turned out quite the way she expected, definitely not how the she at 16, 27, or 51 thought it would. She thought she’d be happy by now, or at least happier than she is.  She thought she’d be at peace.

She was mistaken.

Or was she?

You tell me,  I mean “her.” You tell “her.”  (Not fishing or anything here but actually I am.)

I am

I am the white knight I seek.
No damsel in distress I.
No fairy tale endings or beginnings nigh.

I am the tall handsome cowboy, scuffed boots, tough tender hands.
Giddy up y’all.
Save a horse and all that jazz.

I am my guardian angel.
Golden-winged, ever-powerful, watchful soft eyes.
Protection.
Angels all we.
I have no monopoly.

I am my happily-ever-after.
I am the answer to all my dreams.
I am the with all, be all, end all.
I am the One I seek and the One I seek is I.

Pump up the volume.

The many lives of Carmella B. Higgins

Disclaimer – Any resemblance of blobs of light to anyone here, there, or anywhere, is purely coincidental. And everyone knows that there are no such things as coincidences.

Deep down inside, we are all just blobs of light, as bright and vibrant as helium balloons.

Families of blobs of light. Friends and neighbors of blobs of light.

A radiant rainbow of blobs of light
A radiant rainbow of blobs of light

All shapes and sizes of blobs of light.

A radiant rainbow of blobs of light — persimmon, coral, tangerine, chartreuse, plantation blue, eggplant — and some colors that we can’t even see.

The blobs of light exist in the Great Blob of Light, like drops of water in an endless ocean.

The Great Blob of Light surrounds the blobs of light in an ocean of Love, just because they are.

The Great Blob of Light
The Great Blob of Light

The blobs of light have work to do but not like 9-5 jobs here on Earth.

They help the Great Blob of Light in many ways:

— they teach
— they guide incarnated blobs of light
— they study for their next level
— they travel to other dimensions and interesting worlds
— they explore, inside and out

And always they grow and learn and love each other.

The blobs of light exist to create and grow and spread their light wherever they go which isn’t hard because they are blobs of light after all.

The blobs of light are happy and full of capital “L” Love.

Life is good for the blobs of light.

This is the story of one blob of light. A little teal-ish blob of light. A little teal-ish blob of light named Carmella B. Higgins.

Carmella B. Higgins, blob of light
Carmella B. Higgins, blob of light

Carmella loved her teal-ish hue. It fit her perfectly. Her hue was her.

Carmella lived in Summerland — a place where it was always sunny and in the mid-70s with just the right amount of humidity that didn’t frizz her naturally curly hair.

Summerland was heavenly, the perfect shade of sunset, day in and out.

There was a lot to do in Summerland. No one ever got bored.

Carmella liked to sit under the great old trees and listen to their wisdom.

She liked to play with the animals — large and small, predator and prey.  All played together in Summerland.

Jungle Animals Bliss Mural by Howard Robinson
Jungle Animals Bliss Mural by Howard Robinson

As perfect as Summerland was, sometimes the blobs of light wanted something different — a change of scenery.

Like Carmella.

“Time for another lesson!” Carmella shouted, bursting to overflowing. “Yay! I can’t wait!”

Carmella danced with glee. She couldn’t believe that her wish had been granted — it was her turn to go again. The Great Blob had heard and answered her calls.

“Yes, you can go dear Carmella,” the Great Blob said, loving eyes beaming.

“Yay!”, the little teal-ish blob of light cried,” Yay, and thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Carmella met with the Incarnation Guides to pick her next life on Earth.

A medley of possibilities flashed across a huge screen in the sky.

Carmella looked at several lives before narrowing it down to five, and then two, and then one.

And this is what happened next…

To be continued