Memory From Good Old Days

Once, when I was a young girl at the age of nine, I dreamed I wrote a book. When I saw the title on the cover with my name beneath it, I was amazed! For days afterwards I would try to remember the title, but couldn’t. Although the dream had planted the idea in my mind I told nobody about it. I believed it was foolish to even think I could do such a thing. Others would shame me if they knew of my conceit, that I even dared to dream I had written a book! Who was I to think I could write something others would want to read?

Forward thirteen years to age twenty-two. I had recently married and was also expecting my first child. I confided in my new husband, telling him I’d always wanted to write (the first time I’d ever dared to tell anyone!). “Then why aren’t you writing?” he said, as if what I’d said was not outrageously ridiculous! Duh! Don’t ask me why I didn’t know that if I wanted to write I should be writing! Perhaps it was the result of an inferiority complex. But after that I began taking pen to paper. When I later read what I’d written I blushed with embarrassment. The writing was full of cliches. As much as I had read, and I’d always been an avid reader, I knew too many cliches meant poor writing.

Forward to age thirty-three, the mother of four young children, all in school. I dared to enroll in a writer’s workshop. We had this wonderful teacher who had us put our writing on a large blackboard and the class would critique what we’d written. Thankfully, sharing our writing with the class was not required. Perhaps Mr. Young (bless his heart!) knew I was very insecure about my writing and did not draw attention to me or pressure me. I remember thinking one evening that my writing was just as good as some of the other writings on the board and I began posting mine.

That’s how my first written piece (besides all the ones I’d rejected and thrown away, of course) was written. Mr. Young told me it was publishable and to send the mss to Good Old Days magazine, a nostalgic publication. My piece was called “The Log Train,” a short story about my siblings and I watching for the log train to come out of the hollow where we lived in the Kentucky Mountains, how we played in the meadow beside the old tracks and called “Log Train’s Coming” when we heard the screeching of the iron wheels on the metal tracks. It was during a glorious yet short time in our young lives after our dad had died leaving a widow and eight children, the older children caring for and providing for the younger ones, my baby brother age six and me age eight.

March 1973 Issue

I cannot tell you how that short piece of writing, taking up only one page in the magazine, changed my life. No, I didn’t become a “writer”, so to speak, except for a few pieces here and there and finally a family book in 2006 called “Stories of a Kentucky Mountain Family As Told by Two Sisters and a Brother,” in which I also included many of my eldest brother and only sister’s writings.

Back to the day I received two copies of the March 1973 edition of the magazine: I hadn’t heard back about my submission until the day I received the copies. My little story was on page 11 (my birth path number in numerology). I looked at the printed page in wonder (I later received a check for $9.00). What it did for my self-esteem was unimaginable. As if it confirmed to me that I was still alive. And I still marvel at the change it made in my life, which is too much to go into here. But the latest thing that’s happened regarding the outcome of the story of The Log Train may be hard to believe. Although I saved the magazine for a while, during several moves and interruptions it disappeared. I had lost track and forgotten how important it had once been in my life.

Click image to read the story

This July (2019) 4th my daughter Teresa, her husband and two of my grandchildren went to Des Moines to celebrate the 4th with my son-in-law’s family. On the way home they stopped at a place called Brass Armadillo Antique Mall in Altoona, Iowa, and were browsing. They came across some Good Old Days magazines and Teresa called me to find out what year my little story The Log Train was published in the magazine. I can’t believe it took me awhile to remember (I’m getting old so I had to dig deep!) but I finally timed it because I suddenly remembered that when I began studying Astrology I learned I’d had a progressed New Moon that began the very same month the story appeared in the magazine, which was March, 1973.

Teresa learned someone on eBay had the Good Old Days magazines for that year. She bought them for me. I can’t tell you what a thrill it was to hold the copy with my story in my hands. I hadn’t realized fully until now how such a “small” thing (in many ways) had changed my life for the better. It’s also amazing that Teresa, who was only nine years old that year remembered that pivotal time and that she sensed how important it was to me. I am blessed in so many ways.

Serendipity?

What a shame that you found out your parents had feet of clay – horrors!  They did stupid things when they were young!  How could they!  Didn’t they know that some day they would have children who would be embarrassed by them!  Just a thought for the day.  Think about it.  Give your parents a break.  They were young once too, just like you.  If you’re entitled to do stupid things to be overlooked by the next generation then so are they. 

Sleep On It!

Yesterday evening my 15-year-old grandson and I were having one of our occasional heart-to-heart talks. As it was getting close to bedtime the subject turned to why, as we’d heard, sleep was necessary.  Why couldn’t a person just rest awhile, without sleeping?  Because–we had heard–if unable to sleep or allowed to, one would eventually go mad.  The question which came to us next was:  Why?  Did we “go” somewhere when we slept? 

This morning when I awoke I found myself ruminating about recent experiences. Realizing, for the first time, certain aspects of personal problems I had been unaware of. Even to the point of failing to address them. Answers awaited. Filling in the gaps in my understanding.  As if I had consulted an oracle in my sleep who answered questions lingering in my mind.  I now understand “Sleep on it” for the first time.

A Voice of Wisdom From the Past

“It has been Europe’s destiny. . . to provide the intellectual foundation for the emergence of new powers and new social ideals.  It seems to be America’s destiny to be the main field within which the two basic possibilities of use and management of those powers have to fight for supremacy.

“The fight is on, as perhaps never before and it need not be a violent fight in the streets, although our city streets every day spawns violence and crime.  The basic area of conflict is the mind of American men and women, even if this conflict is so often masked and distorted by emotional whirlpools and devotional glamour.  This conflict is inherent in the whole Western civilization and has been since the days of ancient Greece.  In a sense it is the conflict between individualism and holism, individual freedom and group participation, intellectual curiosity and soul-wisdom, Gemini and Sagittarius.”  The Astrology of America’s Destiny, A Birth Chart for the United States of America.” Dane Rudhyar

This book was published in 1974 after Watergate and describes what is still relevant 45 years later.  Dane Rudhyar was a great leader in the world of astrology.  This book has languished among my astrology books for several years, a second-hand copy I ran across and bought to “read later”.  I think it was the “Destiny” part that scared me a little but I finally dove in.  I’m glad I did.

The astrological community owes thanks to this author and astrologer who led the way to humanistic astrology.   

Bragging Rights

Bragging Rights

Since this is my blog it occurs to me I have bragging rights.  Today I want to brag about my son Justin.  Not only is he a wonderful son, father, brother, etc., he started out life with a great attitude, that he was born with the ability to make his own choices in life.  He realized this at a very early age.

My brilliant son at the tender age of five came home from his third day in kindergarten.  “Well,” he said with satisfaction, “I learned all I want to know.”  I explained that he had only begun his education and there was much more to learn.  He was still insistent that he “had learned all he wanted to know.” He had no intention of returning to school.  I didn’t want him to feel he had no say in the matter, that school was something which was forced on him.  I wanted him to see it was a journey just begun and look forward to learning more.  To be honest I was bewildered.  It was one thing, I thought, to hate school as some children may say they do, but another to think they have learned all they wanted to know after three days in kindergarten.  I wondered if I’d given him the impression that school was like Tot Lot, which he’d attended for a few weeks the summer before. I talked to the Principal and he thought my son may need some special attention.  He would come offer him a ride in his little red sports car.

My son did not act impressed when the Principal came but agreed to go with him.  I don’t know what the Principal did or said but my son did return to kindergarten and became a happy brilliant student. He grew up to become a wonderful adult with a career in the Air Force, retiring as a Lieutenant Colonel.  He recently returned to his hometown and began a new career.  You can see why I breathe a sigh of relief.  For an intended kindergarten dropout, he has done exceptionally well.

A Wise Quote From a Genuis

I ran across the following quote from Einstein yesterday. “The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind is a faithful servant. We have created a society that honors the servant and has forgotten the gift.” – Albert Einstein

It’s not too late to open our minds and hearts to recall the sacred gift of intuition granted to us at our birth. It awaits hopefully to be rediscovered and renewed. How many times have you learned something new and then discovered you had already known it before you learned it. You had just forgotten it for awhile. It had been waiting in the back of your mind for you to remember.

Lost Yet Found: My Inner Journey – Part 5

Decisions are hard for all of us. Which way do I go now, which path is
the right one, what do I do next, or, most urgently, where do I go from
here? Life is never easy and some decisions can be hard ones, very hard.
And, at times, it can seem as if there is no answer, although we know that
is untrue and every situation has a solution, no matter how hard it can
be to glimpse it at times.
This is where Hekate comes in. Hekate is the goddess of the crossroads.
She is also the mistress of the magic arts, and is included in the grouping
of the Moon goddesses. In ancient portraits she is shown to have three
heads and they look in each of three directions.
When we are at a crossroads Hekate is there with her torch light and
her ability to transcend both heaven and hell and her dwelling place on
earth. She can bring both the conscious mind and the unconscious mind
together, and the need to live in day to day reality home to us. She is
the one to go to for direction when we don’t know which path to take and
which road makes the best choice. Excerpt from STANDING AT
THE CROSSWOADS, Llewellyn. Co
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I find this description of Hekate fascinating for one reason. If you are a female you are presently living through one of three periods of time, all of them represented by the goddess. During childhood you are helped to grow into your onset of puberty. After which you reach a state of maturity that will enable you to take on adult responsibility. This period lasts for some time as you grow further into your womanhood. You may become a mother and/or make other choices for what you want to do with your life. The second major crossroad will lead you into the third period of your life, when you reach what is referred to as old age. Most likely preceded by menopause. This period is referred to as the age of the crone.

If you doubt the existence of goddesses be reminded they have been around for thousands of years. As a stock character in folklore and fairy tales, an old woman. In some stories, she is disagreeable, malicious, or sinister in manner, often with magical or supernatural associations that can make her either helpful or obstructing. The Crone is also an archetypal figure, a Wise Woman.

The astrologer Alex Miller has researched many asteroids including Hekate.
He also says she is sometimes depicted as a triple goddess, in aspects as maiden, Mother and crone and identified with old age. In Athens she was revered as a chief domestic goddess, protector of the home. He adds that
Hekate relates to far-seeing, prophecy and ceremonial magick; the wisdom
accrued by age; intuition; protection and guidance, especially during crucial life passages such as puberty, childbirth and menopause.”

The crone is often depicted as thin and ugly, but also as a Wise Woman. So it may behoove us to get fat and spread wisdom. But also to heed what Ben Franklin said “Without freedom of thought there can be no such thing as wisdom – and no such thing as public liberty without freedom of speech.”