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Why Do We Watch or Read…?

For those following Rita’s awakening click here – Excerpt 5

Do you have that favorite movie you have watched over and over and over again? What about a TV series that you still smile about, even though you watched it years ago? Are there movies and shows that you secretly watch only when you are alone, never telling someone because they might think you are silly, too romantic, or crazy? Is there a book that you have read over and over again? Perhaps it is a book you bought a copy for all your friends, cause everyone will love it like you do, right?

I can honestly answer yes to all of the above. What is it that makes us come back to a movie? Nostalgically remember a show? Keep a book on our shelf forever?

In the pages I get to exist outside myself, I get to feel, explore and be.
Sometimes it is what I dream of, others shock me, while still others ignite such passion….

It is the feelings we get when we watch or read. They give us opportunity to vicariously experience something, give us hope, help us to believe. Some offer us laughter. Others inspire, help us to not feel alone, ignite passion, or simply let us be for awhile. Sometimes it may not be the show as much as who we watch it with, a sweet memory forever etched in our heart.

We choose to watch for many reasons, however, those reasons are tied to an emotion – whether you want to admit it or not.

Many people will say, “I want to escape,” “disappear for awhile,” “forget everything for a bit.” I completely own and admit this reason for disappearing into the world of a movie, show or book. It is delightful to live through the characters, leaving my life behind to feel, dream and imagine.

For most of my life I have written only nonfiction, which my library reflects as my chosen genre. While I enjoy reading a great fiction novel, they seem to be more rare and less often. During my furlough time with COVID I was called to the page in a new way. It caught me off guard and yet I allowed my muse free rein. I began the fiction novel I now share excerpts from three days of the week. Taking my reader on a journey through the life’s of the characters.

I come to the page with anticipation, what will I learn, see, feel, touch, taste, hear…??

I am having so much fun in my writers imaginary world. I now have so many questions for the authors of fiction – how do you leave your characters, how do you come back into the “real world”, how do you keep it all straight while residing in two worlds???

Like watching a good movie I get to disappear for as long as my body will acquiesce to sitting in one place. I get to imagine how it would feel, letting the plot surprise me as it presents itself. I find myself desperately wanting to hide away, to run to a remote little cabin where I can write uninterrupted until the pen is satisfied and complete. I visualize the day when I will not wedge my writing into a forty hour work week.

Already I feel other story ideas generating, bubbling to the surface. I joyfully watch them percolate, knowing their time for birthing shall arrive in perfection as it always does. Right now I get to enjoy every moment I am graced to play with the characters of The Beingness Project – Your Personal Journey Home. They have become a part of my family. I excitedly await the new people I get to meet when they show up unexpected. Oh what fun it is to feel and be in this other existence, a true “fly on the wall” in another time and space.

I invite you to join us as the story unfolds. Today’s excerpt – Day 5 . Will Rita tell her best friend? Will her children wonder what is happening?

I welcome your thoughts, input, and as I have shared constructive noticing when I make a mistake, for I am not an editor, I’m a free flowing writer, who lets the words run wild.

In conclusion, I ask again –

  • Why do you watch and read again?
  • What are we craving and desiring when we revisit a movie, book, show?
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Vulnerable Joy and Nervous Peace…

Sometimes stepping forward in life means accepting a level of imperfection, knowing that with time, patience and persistence it will become what you envision. I have been promising myself for weeks that I would start sharing my fiction work, that I would wedge between the cracks of my full time job and life obligations the various musings that bubble up in my writer’s mind.

Today I followed through! It feels scary, vulnerable, raw, peaceful, exciting and joyful, a furious mix of emotions. I can feel within my heart and soul it is the right thing for me to do. I have always been a writer, a wordsmith beckoned to express. Words even arrive in my dreams, floating suspended on a blackboard or white empty space. They will also chant repeatedly in my sleeping head until I wake to write them down.

I did not ask for words to be my breath, they just arrive with the inhale and exhale of life...

As I walk they rise up through my legs, flowing into my heart, advancing then into my meandering mind. These are the words you will find etched in the new section titled “BEingness Musings” at The BEingness Project site. These are raw unfiltered musings, free from editing, critiquing and justifying. They arrive as flowing gifts, that I unwrap upon the page.

My fictional dance unfolds piece by piece at – The BEingness Project – A Fictional Invitation. Here you just might be surprised to discover how you relate to the characters, get wrapped up in the interwoven story and find yourself questioning the path you are on…

Stories have the power to transform, to open our hearts and minds to new horizons…

I invite you to BE with me. To dream. To live vibrantly alive. To awaken your hearts desires. To stir your passions. To remember your child-like wonder, joy, love and pure presence.

I conclude in heartfelt gratitude, for while I may not know you personally, I do feel your presence. I am humbled to have you journey with me. It is exciting and comforting to go forth into what is next, knowing you are adventuring alongside…

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My Second Half…

At the young age of fifty-five, I find myself joyously standing in the center of that which has been and that which is preparing to blossom. An eloquent juxtaposition that feels like a merry-go-round spinning with exquisite suspended scenes.

In addition to my age gracing me with the realization that a lot of life has been lived, my children now soar off into their own adventures, pushing me out of the nest. As the truth becomes absorbed cellularly I find a gleefulness that encapsulates the carefree wild child I was and the passionate wise woman I am. Uniting and marrying the two for prophetic adventuring. A smile spreads, curiosity ignites, rhapsodic imagination takes flight.

In My Second Half…

I know I am worthy and divinely perfect as I am…

I unabashedly live, love, and explore…

I witness the beauty in the mirror, celebrating the gifts of time…

I gleefully embrace my enough-ness, freeing myself of unsolicited opinions…

I canter at full speed into the arena of my passionate dreams…

I leap with complete faith, burying with fervor the crib of regret…

I acknowledge with great gaiety that I am a success and always have been…

I sever the twine issued by judges, critics and fearful fanatics…

I am free to BE me, gyrating with grace into the infinite expansion of self…

I pledge to live engorged at the table of life…

In my second half, I welcome the rhapsody Carpe Diem…

Fawn Caveney

Yes, everyday is a fresh stretched canvas. A posed pirouette. A barren page. A ballad awaiting melody. Oh what delighted mirth awaits in My Second Half…

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Ode to the Blossom…

Outside my bedroom stands a glorious cherry tree. I call it the cotton ball tree, for in the Spring it becomes a round white fluff ball balancing on a dark gray leg. When viewed from the other side of the pond, it receives grand compliments like the belle of the ball, dressed in regal finery.

She is the first to don her green as the winter wanes, preparing and fueling herself to burst forth with voluptuous magnificence. Watching the tightly wrapped buds as they expand in preparation to expose themselves, beckons one to be patient. Then it happens, the soft white nearly translucent petal leans back, inviting the others to join her, telling them it is safe to open up.

It is a grand party, they dance and wave on the currents of seasonal change. Quietly role modeling for the nearby trees that the time is now, a merry invitation to play.

I am awed by their extreme courage and strength, such delicate baby soft petals do not give way to the last ambushes of winters gusts. They stay perched in their efflorescence perfection. I am mesmerized by their unabashed elegance and enraptured by their swirling soft perfume.

The time of fading looms. They cling to the final glory days. Intense gales with blurring rain try to undress the dignified queen of trees. The fair ivory petals do not forsake her, they stay, grasping to the last days of their eminence.

A blanket of white bares the truth, fading with quiet acquiescence they fall. Knowing that their time in the sun has come to an end. They exalted the rising of Spring, tempting others to brave the change, now with extreme fortitude, they accept death.

Springs blanket of white shall last merely a moment in time, a mirror of life’s fleeting impermanence…

I sit in admiration of their unpretentious valor, for they did not try to burst on the scene before they were welcomed and they do not linger longer than they were invited. There is a resplendent acceptance that life cycles, birth, life, death.., birth, life, death….

As the sun worships their last moments in the cradle of leaves, I too stand in adoration of their benevolent presence and passing. Our time shall come again on the ebb and flow of seasons. I thank you humbly dear blossom for the reminder that everything has its season, blooming in perfection with the raw truth of impermanence and fragility in the presence of time.

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Visions of a Younger Self…

I sat straight up in the small wooden chair. It reminded me an old childhood school chair. The room was empty, could I actually call it a room, for there were no walls and it went on forever. The space was just vast endless blue gray light. Only me and my chair. “Where was I? Why was I here? How do I escape?” I felt weighted down in the chair, my legs unresponsive to my minds tingling panic. I encouraged myself to calm down, to breathe, to trust and let go of fear.

Like a gigantic movie screen the space in front of me lit up with a life sized scene. It was me. Dressed in my favorite blue and red jeans with flowing light blue blouse speckled with daisies. My hair was blowing in every direction, encircling my young face and my feet as always were dirty with no shoes. The six year old me stepped closer, I was transfixed by her gaze and unable to look away.

She stopped in front of me, reaching out her small little hands to stroke my cheek. Our eyes stayed locked together, a mirror of soft sky blue. In her eyes I saw such deep love, compassion, and spirited joy. They begged me to relax, to let go, to trust and be present. I felt the emotions welling up in me, a tear slid down my face as I leaned into her tiny hand, so warm, soft and gentle. The fear slid out of my body, disappearing like mist in the infinite space.

“My dear Fawn, do you remember?” she asked. Her young voice broke the still silence. Her gentle caress continued to wipe the moist tears from my face. My eyes answered her question with confusion. “What was I to remember? Had I made a promise I forgot? Then it struck me, was I dead? Had I left my physical body and now was stuck in this random space with my young self.” Her vague question had jolted my mind into high drive, which started the generator of fear again.

“Shhhhh…, it’s okay”,she soothed, continuing to touch my forehead and gray hair. I took a deep breath and relaxed back into her presence. I tried to move my lips, but they seemed paralyzed as I processed this experience. “Do you remember the dreams we used to have, the adventures we were going to go on, the books we were going to write, the places we were going to see and photograph?” a giggle filled her body as she asked the questions. Before I could answer she placed her tiny finger on my lips to stop me, softly cooing, “Watch with me“. The space lit up with a panoramic scene, the young me running barefoot down my favorite path towards our small little house tucked in the woods.

I was singing as I bounced along the trail. I looked so healthy and vibrantly alive. Free and wild in my mind, heart and soul. I completely believed that anything was possible, I could go where ever I wanted, do what I dreamed and see all the places I could imagine. The world was the frontier, full of adventures, people and new experiences.

Everything froze, washing the image away. Then suddenly there I was again, this time in my late teens. I sat under my thinking tree, a magnificent red pine that stoically held me perched above the gurgling river below. A smile crossed my face as I remembered. Warm salty tears kissed the edges of my eyes, tears of gratitude, love, joy, sadness, loss, and regret. The weight of her small hand on my shoulder kept me present, despite the urge to slip into the quiet space of a time gone by.

“Go there” she pleaded . “Feel into what we were thinking, dreaming, feeling, wanting. Remember”, her words drifted off.

I felt myself remembering, my spirited body became filled with a blend of loss, desire and ignited hope. The sobs escaped through smiling lips and undecipherable laughter. The dreams of yesterday, of the little girl and young woman permeated my very essence. In my minds eye and hearts page, I saw the books I dreamed to write, I witnessed the exploration of new places, the connection with people around the globe, learning, sharing, bridging humanity with humanity and humanity with nature.

A gasp rose up and escaped my emotionally racked body. Like a bursting comet it hit me, “I still dreamed to connect humanity, to awaken people to their unique magnificence, to bring them home to their inner state of being, awakening them to their heart and souls desires.”

It all flushed through me, the remembered awareness that nature connected us, healed and reminded us of our true inner essence.

Bridge building, that’s what I felt called to share. The bridge between human and nature, the bridge between the inner self and outer being, the bridge between all humanity, exposing our similarities no matter our walk of life or place of existence.

I looked up into the innocent wise face of my younger self, she smiled, running her velvety hand down my cheek. She leaned in, kissed my forehead and disappeared. I sat frozen, uncertain what to feel or do. My being was digesting, absorbing the intense experience. In my ear I heard her softly whisper, “Thank you for remembering, take gentle care of you and I will see you again soon.”

I sat there mesmerized by my own vibrant memories. Rekindling the wild child, the wild woman in me. Closing my eyes, I took in a tender quiet breath. As I released the cleansing air from my lungs, I blinked my tired eyes to life, uncertain in the moment what was “real” or a “dream”. I laid there, feeling into the gift from my younger self.

To be continued…

Until then, what if –

  • You sat in an empty room with your younger self, viewing the cinema of your youth, what would you witness, learn, remember?
  • What would your younger self show you, tell you, share with you?
  • What dreams did you have?
  • What adventures did you wish for?
  • What did you love to do?

Care to share….

For more from me, visit – The Beingness Project

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Paradoxical Mirrors…

I had a dream…

I gingerly stepped out onto the effervescent ice. Shivering in my nakedness, the breeze pricked my skin to life, while it soothed my heart. Stepping fully out onto what appeared to be ice, I realized with shock that it was actually a two-way mirror. In the reflecting light I could see myself, my raw vulnerable body lit up by sunlight, my graying hair floating with the winds sweet caress. As I gazed down I could see through the mirror, taking in panoramic scenes of life upon earth. A movie reel of humanity.

I stopped frozen in place. Forgetting my exposure. Losing all sense of place and time. I watched the scene below me with a raging desire to understand. The movie played on, the cast of characters filled the stage, humans and the natural world. Scrutinizing with focus through the flash of my own reflection, I witnessed the world of paradoxical mirrors.

An invitation…

What I witnessed and grew to understand marveled me. Nature played us, even though we thought ourselves mighty and smarter, it merely mirrored back to us our own behaviors and way of being upon this land.

A paradoxical crystal ball…

It is the predator and prey – the lion and gazelle…

It is the convulsing spew and soothing balm – the volcano and gentle warm breeze…

It is the fierce earth altering storm and gentle nourishing rain – the hurricane and dancing dew…

It is the destroyer and healer – earthquake and lavender field…

It is a killer and life giver – drought and sprouting plant…

It is light and dark – sunrise and obscured moon…

It is destructively ugly and enchantingly stunning – tornado swath and meadow of poppies…

It is harmonious and hostile – a forest ecosystem and inferno fire…

It is inspiring and disheartening – a rainbow and infestation of locust…

As I sat upon the shimmering surface, engrossed by the unfolding action below me, I felt tears, laughter, joy, sorrow, hope, despair… The breadth of my human emotions spanned the galaxy of possibilities. Never before had I been so keenly aware of natures paradoxical dance. It moved me from within, it frightened and fascinated.

All of sudden everything went black, a curtain pulled over my eyes. I blinked furiously, hoping to find light. An intense spark from afar expanded across the infinite space, clearing the slate before me. No longer did I see nature playing on the screen below, now I witnessed humans…

I gasped at the scenes, the human actors mirrored nature or was it nature mirroring the human?

A man beating his wife – predator and prey

Sludge from a factory, a mother caressing the face of her child – convulsing spew and soothing balm

A massive garbage dump, a woman watering her small garden – fierce earth altering storm and gentle nourishing rain

The bulldozing of a farm, the harvesting of herbs – destroyer and healer

The murder of another human, the caring craft of a surgeon – killer and life giver

The acceptance and love of another, the hate and judgment of others – light and dark

A child being molested, a child being cradled with love – destructively ugly and enchantingly stunning

A family dining together, a riot in the streets – harmonious and hostile

A person creating homeless shelters, a person ignoring a starving child – inspiring and disheartening

Again, I found myself swooning with a kaleidoscope of emotions. I sat frozen, unsure of what to feel, do, or say… The darkness swooshed in, this time I was calm, welcoming its closure and end. As the light presented itself, I quietly watched it expand, fearful and yet curious. The surface below me was solid now, a frosted, smooth white surface that went on forever. Above me the sky illuminated in glorious shades of blue, while the sun warmed my skin.

I stood up, allowing the gentle breeze to clear my mind. Then it struck me, like a bright shocking lightening bolt,

“What if human beings changed? Would the natural world mirror our choices? Could we begin a new cycle of cooperative co-existence? If nature mirrors us or vice versa, then it was possible, right?”

“Can humans change? Can we learn to live upon this planet with respect, gratitude and honor? Can we peruse our past to change the future?”

I had a dream…