Circle of friends, circle of trust

Photos:  Deeba and her mom Jaq  and London and her mom Angela (Deeba's friend)

There's a certain amount of magic that occurs when friends gather, eat, drink and share.  The open hearts and minds of friends are all someone could ask for when it comes to an evening of trust and bonding.

Take tonight, for example.  Hanging out at my friends, Angela and Thor, and enjoying the company of their friend John (sans his beautiful wife Molly who is in texas right now).  We got together and went for a long walk, kids and dogs in tow.  Conversation was fun and interesting.  The walk was perfect!  We pooped ourselves out (even Nola the smallest pooch had to take breaks in the grass).  Ordered some fantastic chinese cuisine and sat down with beverages in hand.

It was wonderful, dinner seasoned with conversation and spiced up with the mysteries of childhood memories, victories and tragedies, combined.  All shared amongst the group with deep and heartfelt compassion.  Reminiscing about being daughters and sons and how, now that we are all adults, we are managing the challenges before us with our own children (me excluded as I have none - but I can imagine).

We not only agreed that there is a point when an adult/child draws boundaries for their parents to abide but how, in the process, compassion and forgiveness come into play at the same time.  We came to agree that we loved and respected our parents and wished nothing less as our desire for our children.  We also agreed that it is a process of give and take when we think of how we were raised, with what type of thought process and how we bring the best of that forward.  How we are who we are because of our parents and how we can continue to define ourselves as we separate and rejoin our bonds with those who brought us into this world.

I think that when we are in our early years as adults, we want to find all the problems we have with ourselves and look for what/who caused them.  Often, we look to our parents (our familiar and direct source of authority) to blame.  Then in our thirties, we realize our own participation and responsibility for who we are and by our forties, we really begin to separate and define ourselves, realizing our power and influence on ourselves and then upon others.  By the time we are in our fifties (I think I am the only one in this crowd) we begin to identify so closely with our parents it's almost scary. And yet, our parents don't see this, they just see their child in front of them.  They see this adult-like shell and search for the child they remember having held in their arms, or counseled when in trouble.

I think about my parents and how young they were when I came into the world. My mother was 19 and my father 18.  They were in the Air Force.  Living in Colorado Springs.  Young people, not even adults.  And so when I was five, my parents were just beginning to realize a sense of who they were...and they divorced.  So young.  So young.  I can't imagine being that young with that much responsibility.  And yet, my parents have done very well for themselves, and I think I have too!

At dinner, we all agreed that we loved our parents and that we were who we were because of them and the challenges, support and love set before us.  We closed the evening with hugs and goodnights.  Mature adults with our inner child-like identities who came out to play and share - gaining a more defined understanding of ourselves, our parents and what it means to be one.

A circle of friends, relaxing, sharing and laughing - happy in the heart and confident about our love for our parents, each other and consequently for ourselves...a promising vision for our children to witness.

A Poem I wrote

“A Language Dreamt”

By Deeba Van Overberghe

©10/26/07

I walked into a dream

I walked into a dream of a desert language

Not easily spoken, nor understood

No comprehension on a verbal level

I walked into a dream

A desert language

Blues and grays sprinkled

Across a syntax of light brown

The smell of sage riding over

The rhythm of succulents, unknown

I floated through a dream

I floated through a desert language

The lilt of flowers over cacti tongue

Plume dancing, mid-air, yet
unable to take flight until night

Gold light twinkling upon dirt paths

Of the wily coyote and other such folk

I merged into a dream of desert language

The colloquialisms of the night

mix and move over the sand

Dry is the tongue of the desert

As I try to speak with my moist lips

I woke out of a dream

Out of a desert language

Awoke, drank and contemplated

Under my blanket

The language of the desert and

What (or who) it might be

Triple Belgian Beer, Moonlit Mermaids and the Magic of Laughter

The golden color of the bubbling beer was too refreshing to resist.  A handsome bartender and girlfriends, conversation and laughter, what more could Anyone want?   The magic of the evening had begun:  "7:00 pm, The Ale House, bring an appetite and conversation; the rest will follow!"

There we were, drinking our Triple Belgian Beer and waiting for a table, laughing and cheering ourselves along, all the while sipping beer out of round, flat stemware.  People knew, we were having fun and we were fun to watch.  There is a certain amount of magic that happens when women are together, oblivious of those around them; charging the air with an invaluable energy of joy and abandonment.

After we sat at our table and partook of the most wonderful burgers and salads and sweet potato fries, we decided to go for a walk down at the beach.  And so we began our journey toward Swami’s.  The night sky, deeply painted in Indigo Blue.  The air, crisp and clean.  Our laughter ringing down Historic Highway 101 as we walked the path toward the ocean.

Four goddesses, Mermaids, we were…practically flying down the steps toward the beach.  Landing on the soft and foamy sand.  Kicking off our shoes and skipping along the waters edge.  Sandy could feel the freedom of being alive, being human.  Regina, quietly smiling as her toes curled into the golden glitter beneath her feet.  And Maya was joyfully calling out to the moon, her voice laden with a laugher.  I walked with my friends along the shore and felt the troubles of the day lift off my shoulders, dissipating into the mist coming off the waves as they crashed into my feet.

It was fantastic!  The four of us, mermaids in the moonlight, skipping and laughing and sharing our thoughts.  We all knew how wonderfully important and GOOD it was to be there.  How special it was to frolic with Mother Nature as our witness to the love and joy of friends, sharing the moment, all together.

Beyond the magic of the night existed dreams and hopes and prayers for a better planet.  We thought of our ocean and the burden we are presenting her, the thought of how important the fish and the water are to the whole of our earth, ourselves, the whole-ness of life. 

We picked up rocks, thought of our fears and troubles, mentally harbored these burdens into the rocks and threw them into the ocean, asking mother nature to take our troubles and solve them for us.  We then found other rocks and put our hopes and dreams into them and gave them to her yet again.  Intentions were good; spirits were whole as we shared our magic with the sea.

Sirens we were, we are.  Carrying our love beyond ourselves, onto the moonlit beach and out to the sea.

Breaking Bread

Breaking Bread.  I am so grateful for my circle of friends.  I have The Klatts, The Greenbergs, The Bonaccorsos, The Paxtons, The Georges, The Travinos, as well as The Crawfords and Tom Duncan and his Girly-Girl Friend, Leslie.  And, there are more.  Many more people who invite me over to "break bread" and experience such great and wonderful get togethers, filled with scrumptious conversation and intelligent meals.  A play on words?  I don't think so.  :)

There's magic in the kitchen, at the table, and later with what I like to call, "Sofa talk."  :)  It's just so much fun for me to get together for the experience of food, drink and conversation.  The sharing of food is such an innate action and then to incorporate drink, be it wine, or otherwise, well it is an enhancement.  But to top off with laughter, the communication of ideas and suggestions, judgements - okay - and realizations... Well, it makes for ideal experiences enhancing the exposure of the intellect and the pallet.

It's so much fun.  Fun.  An experience that we liken to abandonment of the moment and a mere submersion into feeling...free...feeling good.  Feeling safe...safe to be amongst friends who love us, no matter what, whether it be a lousy recipe, an opinion that's off center, or just laughing too loudly...well, it's all good.  It's around the breaking of bread and so it just seems, okay.  More than that, it's a right way of being.  Thank you to my friends, for being so, well, so "right way of being."

Here's to the delight of gathering with friends and .... breaking bread...So what up with the freaking health care deal?  suck an egg, can't win for loosin'.    And so it begins......dinner anyone?  anyone?  :)  Yoo hoo!  Hungry friend out here!  :)

It was a rainy night.....

About a month ago, I decided to go to a party.  It was a cold and rainy evening in our usually sunny San Diego and so getting dressed up to go out was not what I wanted to do.

However, this event was being put together by the organizers of the 101 Artists Colony as a thank you to all of the artists who participated in painting banners.  These banners hang on Highway 101 and are a wonderful opportunity for the artists and the communities along the beach.  Art is displayed along The Coast Highway and it's great fun for all.  I wanted to go.  I wanted to see the other artists.

It was being held at the Encinitas Elks Club.  Rather surreal for me as I come from the land of Elks Clubs.  Most of my cousins and friends have had wedding  receptions in such places.  I hadn't been in one for almost 20 years.  As I walked through the door, shaking the rain drops off of my white Michael Cors rain coat, the memories of alcohol soaked carpet and smoke infused wainscoting came back with a rush of humor, joy and laughter.

The bartender looked up from the drink he was pouring and the three flies at the bar turned to see.  I smiled and walked up to the bar.  "And what will the pretty red-head have this evening?" the bartender querried as he finished the pour and set two drinks up in front of the couple to my right.

"Tangueray Tonic, please."  I smiled big, " And can you make it a double?"   Ooops!  I forgot this was an Elks Club.  Double means a glass filled with liquor and splash of something sweet to take the edge off.

"Five bucks."  'Wow!' I thought, 'that's a price from the past!'  I paid up, with gratitude and laid 7 bucks on the bar, turned and walked into the band area where I found a little lady with white hair, bopping around near a table, drink in hand, sipping through her straw.  She was sweet.  We made eye contact, smiled and I continued to scan the group for friends.

'Hmmmm,' I thought, 'She looks familiar.'  The visual of this woman was rather amusing because there was an elk head hanging off the wall, right over her head.    I was conversing with my peeps, all along playing eye tag with this cute little lady.  Perhaps she was the mother of one of my friends or clients. I knew her face, just couldn't place her.  I took a sip of my double T&T, winced and set it on the table with a note to leave it there.  More than I can handle, I thought as I looked up and captured a wink and a bobity-bop, from the little white haired lady.  I did a little dance move and we both laughed.  She sat down and I made a mental note to walk over at intermission and find out just who she was.

the night progressed, becoming even more surreal.  I was the recipient of the coolest guitar.  A cigar box guitar.  Designed and created by an artist and friend of mine, named Smoke Box Bob, aka Bob Hord (smokeboxbob.com).  It's the coolest thing.  But Wait!  It gets better!  A couple of guys in the band asked to play my new guitar.  One of them was Jack Tempchen from The Eagles.     He played the guitar (which is electric!  get out!) and then gave me the pick he used.  too cool!  Can it get any better than that?

YES!   Yes it can.  At intermission, my friend and colleague Danny said that Cloris Leachman was in the audience.  Cloris Leachman!  That's who the little lady was! OMG~ (yes I use OMG).  I tried to find her, but she had already left.  It was a surreal evening of great characters, wonderful experiences and great laughter for all!

And so, I have a guitar made by a wonderful artist, played by an incredible musician and I played eye tag with an actress.  To think it all started with a double T&T at the Elks Club on a cold and rainy night in Encinitas.

MY FIFTIETH

MY FRIEND, ANGELA, WHO LIVES IN SAN ELIJO...A PLANNED COMMUNITY...DECIDED TO HONOR ME...FOR MY FIFTIETH.  GOD BLESS HER!

As most of you know, I was trying to figure out how to spend my big "five-0" by myself.  After being stood up for xmas, I wasn't sure what I was going to do for my birthday.

I have the most amazing friend.  Angela and her family, The Travinos.  They had not only invited me into their christmas celebration, they then honored me on my birthday.

I walked up to Angela's and Thor's (her hubby)house and entered through the side door.  Much to my wonderful surprise, their dog (one of two), Marly, greeted me with licks and leeps and such a great desire to be the first for my affection that I couldn't even pass the threshold.

IT WAS WONDERFUL!  Balloons and signs (made by beautiful Brooklyn who is all of the age of seven but acts like she's twenty-one).  Thor, ever the great host, had wine in hand and before I knew it, so did I.  Angela's family began showing up and we were in full-swing of a mighty fine fiftieth celebration!  I'm pictured here holding her newbie daughter, London.  Awww!  Can you tell it's been awhile since holding a newborn for me?   The kid was great, I was a nervous wreck!  Okay, someone else's turn!  Oh but she is precious.

The cake, OMG!, the cake.  Chocolate Cake Lovers from around the world covet this cake:  The Red Velvet!  mmmmmmmmmmmmmm.  And my gift?  Well, it was most special.  A coach purse.  Black and beautiful.  I love my bag!

Well, needless to say, it was a great evening with laughter and music and celebration in the air.  What better way to acknowledge one's life?

Thank you Angela, Thor, and The Travino family!

Neglect

I have neglected one of my dearest passions....writing...painting is one of the others.  sooooo many.  This is my challenge.  To write.  About my experiences.  anyone who knows me, knows they are many, they are frequent, AND they are worth my writing about them.  i get it!  I hear you!  I write on!  LOVE YOU. MY BEAUTIFUL FANS.