Be it metaphorical, like turbulence of the soul, or literal, like the thunderboomers just outside my window, may you delight in some aspect of the rain. Let it clear and clean and sanctify.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdrGS__yg6Q
Life coach, tarot reader, astrologer, and author, who finds spiritual fulfillment in mid-20th century pop culture, delving into its beauty, mysticism, and wisdom. Twitch your nose and come along.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
A Sad Day for Colorado's Flying W Ranch: Ghost Riders in the Sky
http://www.flyingw.com/
I recall my first family trip back in the 60s. I'm talking all three of us piled into the car, along with a tiny porta-potty for yours truly, and ventured Westward across this great country. I remember stopping for a Dairy Queen in Kansas, visiting the Bug Museum, Cave of the Winds, Santa's North Pole Workshop near Pike's Peak, Pike's Peak itself (via the nifty tramway), and eventually Disneyland. I was three years old and still have fond memories of that long-ago trip (even the part when I accidentally left my crayons on the back window and they melted there, decorating my Dad's car with dots of rainbow - and giving my Skipper doll's hair some unwanted highlights and lowlights). In fact, I recall these places in vivid sense memory. And that's really saying something, especially since many trips made in more recent years don't have that hold on my heart - and aforementioned senses.
But if you asked me to recall one place we visited most clearly, in small details of sound, smell and (Ooh Lordy!) taste, it would be the Flying W Ranch Chuckwagon Show and Dinner. The musical cowboys took the stage under an outdoor, open air structure. They played songs like "Happy Trails" and the eerie "Ghost Riders in the Sky" (evocative both back then and now of whispy, transparent-gray cowpokes and their phantom horses). We sat at a long, wooden table with throngs of other happy vacationers and were treated to a tasty cowboy supper of a BBQ beef brisket sandwich, baked beans (best ever, ever), buttery corn bread and tangy-sweet lemonade. I can still remember plunking down my empty tin cup after draining it of the lemonade, wiping my mouth clean with the back of my sleeve, satisfied and full. What more do you need while listening to cowboy crooners while a gentle, evening breeze licked up against your shins?
It's with the deepest sadness that I must report this wonderful tourist attraction is no more. I visited Santa's North Pole Workshop's Facebook page this morning and learned that Flying W Ranch fell vicitm to the tremendously savage fires that are menacing Colorado as I write this. I'm constructing this blog post in order to inform my readers to please pray for the families affected by this tragedy, and the business owners who've lost their beloved Ranch, which charmed folks for the past 60 years. And, in addition, I'm urging everyone to keep prayers of protection going for Santa's North Pole Workshop, for nearby towns like Manitou Springs, for the glorious forests, and Garden of the Gods.
While writing this, I can't keep my eyes from tearing up for those ghostriders, now a sweet, disntant memory ...
I recall my first family trip back in the 60s. I'm talking all three of us piled into the car, along with a tiny porta-potty for yours truly, and ventured Westward across this great country. I remember stopping for a Dairy Queen in Kansas, visiting the Bug Museum, Cave of the Winds, Santa's North Pole Workshop near Pike's Peak, Pike's Peak itself (via the nifty tramway), and eventually Disneyland. I was three years old and still have fond memories of that long-ago trip (even the part when I accidentally left my crayons on the back window and they melted there, decorating my Dad's car with dots of rainbow - and giving my Skipper doll's hair some unwanted highlights and lowlights). In fact, I recall these places in vivid sense memory. And that's really saying something, especially since many trips made in more recent years don't have that hold on my heart - and aforementioned senses.
But if you asked me to recall one place we visited most clearly, in small details of sound, smell and (Ooh Lordy!) taste, it would be the Flying W Ranch Chuckwagon Show and Dinner. The musical cowboys took the stage under an outdoor, open air structure. They played songs like "Happy Trails" and the eerie "Ghost Riders in the Sky" (evocative both back then and now of whispy, transparent-gray cowpokes and their phantom horses). We sat at a long, wooden table with throngs of other happy vacationers and were treated to a tasty cowboy supper of a BBQ beef brisket sandwich, baked beans (best ever, ever), buttery corn bread and tangy-sweet lemonade. I can still remember plunking down my empty tin cup after draining it of the lemonade, wiping my mouth clean with the back of my sleeve, satisfied and full. What more do you need while listening to cowboy crooners while a gentle, evening breeze licked up against your shins?
It's with the deepest sadness that I must report this wonderful tourist attraction is no more. I visited Santa's North Pole Workshop's Facebook page this morning and learned that Flying W Ranch fell vicitm to the tremendously savage fires that are menacing Colorado as I write this. I'm constructing this blog post in order to inform my readers to please pray for the families affected by this tragedy, and the business owners who've lost their beloved Ranch, which charmed folks for the past 60 years. And, in addition, I'm urging everyone to keep prayers of protection going for Santa's North Pole Workshop, for nearby towns like Manitou Springs, for the glorious forests, and Garden of the Gods.
While writing this, I can't keep my eyes from tearing up for those ghostriders, now a sweet, disntant memory ...
Monday, June 25, 2012
Monday is Tarot Day: The ICF Midwest Regional Conference
So, for those not "in the know": ICF stands for International Coaching federation. This past weekend, my hubby Ben Dooley helped to host the very first Midwest regional Conference here in the Chicago area. I attended as a newbie life coach, enjoying many a great lecture,. awesome entertainment, and really super food at the Rosemont Hilton. I also did tarot both mornings of the conference.
Ben set me up in a small room wherein I did mini readings for an hour in the morning, from 7 AM to 8 AM (officially THE earliest I've ever done a reading, ever, ever) as part of the conference's "Fresh Start" program. Just one-card pulls. From my trusty Rider-Waite deck, my "tarot for the people" deck, the one I take to parties, fairs, that sort of thing. It doesn't like to read for me, just for others. And I'm fine with that - it's extroverted that way.
Interestingly, one card kept popping up more than any other. In fact, I'd say that about 10% of all the readings came up with this particular card: the Ace of Cups.
Curious, isn't it? Until you remember what the Ace of Cups is all about.New, heartfelt beginnings. Leading with the heart. Just the thing that coaches do, especially when they follow their hearts in order for their clients to reach their full potentials. I like to think that when I'm totally in the zone with a client, I'm led by God, the Universe, the Holy Spirit to do the very best I can for that person. If you take a look at the card itself, lo! and behold, there's the Holy Spirit itself bringing God Energy into the mix.
I love when this tarot stuff is so gosh-darned accurate!
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
New Moon in Gemini: Extemporize Your World.
I love this time of year, just prior to the summer solstice, when the sun stays out so very long. When the day just strums along like a banjo player, settin' on a front porch, pluckin' a slow, sweet tea-infused tune. Kind of reminds me of this image from the beginning of the "Pirates of the Caribbean" ride at Disneyland, one of my favorite experiences at the park. A night dappled with indigo-sapphire, glinting fireflies, lunar reflection on the water.
The Gemini New Moon urges us to make up lyrics to that banjo tune, just for the heck of it. And, while you're at it, stay up until it's dusk and look for the faerie folk in your backyard. Because this time of year allows you to say what you feel, declare your exploration into the worlds of make-believe and craft your own colorwonderful possibilities.
If you've wanted to write some poetry, you should pour yourself right in - but be ready to read it aloud, with all the passion in your soul. Walk in nature and talk with the trees. Tell someone about your guardian angel.
Enjoy this magical, luxuriant time. And whisper to the fireflies.
Monday, June 11, 2012
Monday is Tarot Day: the King of Hearts, Dan Turlow
My dad at the Oak Park Arms' Senior Prom, June 8, 2012, wearing the crown he received as prom king several years ago. |
In the Enchanted Tarot Deck by Amy Zerner, the suit of Cups is represented by hearts, which works out perfectly for a deck filled with sentiment and softness. Sure, in a reading the Cups can, at times, have an overtly sentimental leaning, or get caught up in drama, but overall, there's a sweetness and gentleness to a tarot Cup. Or, in this case, a Heart.
The man in the photo is my Daddy. Dan Turlow, the most wonderful, loving, kind soul you'll ever meet. He's been through a lot in the last few years, dealing with a variety of health issues (a little dementia here, a little high blood pressure there, a little too much to list right here). The coup de grace occurred last month when he stopped breathing after a bad bout with his heart. We had a DNR (do not resuscitate) order on him (suggested/recommended by his doctor) but in an interesting turn of events, Ben was there at the moment his breathing stopped. The ER doctor asked, "Should we resuscitate?" And Ben said, "Yes." We were under the belief that a DNR was used in cases of dire need, like a Terri Schiavo case. But we soon learned that, no, DNR is just that; do not resuscitate, period. At that very moment, I was speeding over to the hospital in my car, praying that I would be there if my dad passed. I had missed my Mom's passing and I couldn't bear the thought of my Dad passing without me there, to hold his hand, to help him cross over.
Dad no longer has a DNR in his records because, well, he's bigger and better than that. Should/when the time comes when a Big Decision has to be made about whether he can have a good quality of life in terms of his physical condition,. I can make that decision. But, until then, no DNRs. Living will, yes. But anything as drastic as a DNR, no sir.
He had a pacemaker installed (is it "installed" or "inserted"? I don't want him to sound like he's a Honda that had a new carburetor "installed" - yeesh!) and is doing better than he did for the months prior to his whole bad heart health bout.
Look at that smile. The twinkle in his eyes. Yep, he's the same guy who took me to Disneyland when I was four, who shared ghost stories with me, who sat with me when we both ate our ice cream cones slowly, savoring every bit.
Daddy is the King of Hearts - with a brand new ticker to totally seal the deal! He's the epitome of the card - tender, loving, sentimental and emotional (sometimes to a fault). A champion to those who enjoy slowing down and smelling the sweet things life has to offer. A lover and appreciator of the arts and the good life. The type of guy you know will always have your back, and will generously love you with his entire, grand, breathtakingly beautiful soul.
That's my dad.
Friday, June 8, 2012
VIDEO: Mister Rogers Remixed - The Garden of Your Mind
Detail from Idlewild's Mister Rogers' Neighborhood Ride |
Back toward the beginning of the Road Trip I took for my book, The Cotton Candy Road Trip", I spent a magnificent day at Idlewild Park in western Pennsylvania. One of the sweetest and most unique experiences was a visit to the Land of Make Believe - they have an actual trolley that whisks you through it and you get to meet all the fabled characters the wonderful Fred Rogers made famous. I can tell you many tears were shed when the recorded voice of my beloved Mr. Rogers wafted through the speakers and took us along on a fairytale journey.
I counted. It only took me 40 seconds to start crying while watching this fantastic video.
When I think about it, I realize that Fred Rogers, who was a minister at one time, was truly a mystic in many ways. His belief that you have this tremendous power inside you, his gentle messages of love and tolerance, are amazingly potent and timeless.
Thank you, Mr. Rogers. You've helped this traveler plant made a fantastic idea in the garden of her mind ...
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Richard T. Crowe, Chicago's Premiere Ghost Hunter, has passed
http://trueillinoishaunts.com/2012/06/07/chicago-paranormal-tour-pioneer-richard-t-crowe-has-passed-away/
Back in 1989, my friend Janet and I had an encounter with the famed Chicago ghost Resurrection Mary. A few years later, we were contacted by Richard T. Crowe to tell our story on the TV show, "Unsolved Mysteries". I'll never forget the thrill of recreating the story for the cameras, getting to play "Hollywood" in the southern Chicago suburbs.
But one of the sweetest memories of the entire event was finally getting to meet and chat with Richard T. Crowe. I'd listened to his stories of Chicagoland haunts for years when he was a guest on WGN radio. I can clearly recall my Mom and Dad and me gathering around the radio back in the 70s, on a windy October evening, hopped up on Coca Cola in order to stay up through the wee hours, so we wouldn't miss one single minute of Mr. Crowe's compelling stories.
Bachelor's Grove. The Eastland Disaster. The St. Valentine's Day Massacre. Country House Restaurant. Many folks would've never known about the hauntings associated with these places if it hadn't been for the venerable Mr. Crowe. I'd go as far as stating that he was instrumental in making Resurrection Mary a household name!
Besides listening to him on the radio, or catching him on shows like "Unsolved Mysteries", I also had the honor of taking an number of his Paranormal bus tours, both the daytime (spooky), evening (even spookier), and (spookiest yet) Halloween versions. The Halloween ones were extra special, because he served champagne and Twinkies! And in addition to all that, Richard did lectures across the area, complete with a slideshow of paranormal photographs (WAY before this became popular on shows like "Ghost Hunters" and "Ghost Adventures"). I'll never forget the lecture he gave at Morton College in Cicero - when I got to tell him about its very own theatre ghost!
He also did lectures about hauntings in Ireland and New Orleans - and took tour groups to those places as well. Always wanted to take one of those tours; sadly, that opportunity won't present itself again. But I'll never forget our chats, his gentle humor and his brilliant knowledge of the paranormal in Chicago.
Over at Chet's Melody Lounge (where the bartender always puts out a Bloody Mary in case Resurrection Mary needs a little pick-me-up between hauntings), I'd like to see a pint of Guinness set out on the counter, in honor of Mr. Richard T. Crowe, ghost hunter extraordinaire.
There are other area ghost hunters, but Mr. Crowe not only started it all but he was The Best.
Note: If you'd like to watch the "Unsolved Mysteries" segment on Resurrection Mary, see Mr. Crowe being interviewed and yours truly recreate a ghostly encounter, go here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oJReMt4sskA
For more info about Mr. Crowe, and to get his book, please go here: http://www.ghosttours.com/richard.htm
Monday, June 4, 2012
Monday is Tarot Day: an ode to "Mad Men"'s Lane Pryce
So I'll start by saying that Lane Pryce (played by the incredible Jared Harris) has been one of my favorite characters on my favorite television show (my favorite television show of all time, even. Yes, full admission.) for many a season. On the surface, Lane is veddy British, his office boasting a collection of teapots, his suit always replete with a natty weskit, his demeanor civilized and crisp. But just lightly scratch under that surface, and find a complex and tortured soul, forever battling against the memories (some not that distant) of being bullied by a domineering father, of never living up to his rigid standards.
At times, Lane displayed a naivete around the office, almost seeming younger than Draper himself. He seemingly looked up to Don, attempted to fit into the "Mad" world, but mostly unsuccessfully. Or perhaps it was his genuinely true and honest spirit that wasn't able to swim effectively with the sharks, clumsily engaging in an extra-marital affair that became more than a fling (but which he had to disengage from due to that aforementioned domineering father).
************SPOILER ALERT - READ NO FURTHER IF YOU HAVEN'T WATCHED "Commissions and Fees" from Season5 *****************************************
After Lane forged Don's name on a check in order to pay off back taxes, I could start to feel the wheels of a Shakespearean tragedy begin to speed up, the tragedy that started as far back as the moment Lane's father literally kicked him when he was down, churned up by breaking up with the Playboy bunny who stole his heart (she was African American and his father would have absolutely nothing of it), and wound to a fever pitch when Don asked for Lane's resignation after learning about the forgery. Might I also add there was an affection between him and Joan that he knew could never be consummated? In a state of despair, he attempted suicide, in the fancy new "racing green" Jaguar his wife bought with money that was not his own (ironically bought to celebrate the company's new Jaguar account). In a flash of dark, comedic irony that only "Mad Men" can pull off so superbly, the car didn't start - so Lane, sensing no hope for his future, went back to his office, typed out his letter of resignation (fulfilling his obligation to the firm, being the stand-up and proper British gent that he is), and proceeded to hang himself, freeing himself of his internal torture, his "dark night of the soul".
Earlier in the season, "Mad Men" gave us a bit of a red herring: Don summoned an elevator and, when the door opened, almost stepped into an open elevator shaft. So many folks I know had been speculating how that might creep back and swallow up one of the characters (during a season of much tumult and shake-up). For Lane, that empty elevator shaft came in the form of the sense that all around was hopeless, there was no redemption, and he'd rather take his own life than be berated by his father yet again. Very tragic, indeed. Like the man in the 9 of Swords card, in his mind Lane felt all around was black and dark, that the floor had fallen out. And last night, while watching the final ten minutes of the episode that sealed Lane's fate, I found myself saying out loud, "No, please don't. You dear, sweet man - there's always hope".
Next Sunday is the Season 5 finale. The tarot reader in me is wondering if the 10 of Swords might be applicable then, the card that promises after destruction a new day will dawn.
BTW - if you're wondering why I didn't write about the Hanged Man today: it doesn't apply here, sadly. The Hanged Man is about soul-searching and being in a zen-like state, while things swirl all about you. It's about reaching a transcendent state Wish Lane would've found that sense of peace.
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