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Have you ever seen your Guardian Angel? If you said "no", I bet you have, but didn’t know it.
Here’s my Guardian Angel story.
It was in the early ‘90s and I was scheduled to fly into the Ontario, CA airport to visit Pam and Steuart Bell who lived in Chino Hills. My flight was for mid-afternoon on a Friday. Then the line of severe weather (from Maine to Florida) came through and delayed all east coast air travel five hours.
By the time we finally took off, the flight plan took us north into Canada, over Lake Ontario, then south along Lake Michigan to O’Hare Airport in Chicago. We flew between storm clouds being lit internally by lightening. Our plane was so small by comparison…imagine a walnut sailing between two aircraft carriers. We actually saw Niagara Falls all lit up. What a sight! So far, this is the good news.
Once we deplaned, all connecting flights were long gone. United Airlines was offering vouchers for restaurants (which were all closed) and for hotel accommodations (but would not help obtaining those accommodations). I heard others screaming into phones that such and such hotel had to give them a room; after all they were stranded! I decided to bed down at O’Hare. After changing my flight plans to land in Los Angelis instead of Ontario (Pam and I were going to a Whole Health Expo right there in LA), I grabbed a couple of blankets from the United podium and stretched out on the waiting room seats to spend the night.
I could not have been safer. There was no one around except the cleaning people and they weren’t there for long. And it was cold. I found out that Chicago O’Hare is kept at 45 degrees and the rest of the warmth is made up from running equipment, lights and warm bodies. At night none of that exists except lights.
I woke up at one point and a man in his 30s was sitting at the end of the row of seats where I was sleeping. He had on sneakers, blue jeans, a plaid shirt, suede jacket, had a briefcase on his lap and was working on a legal size yellow pad (all night). He never looked my way. He never said a word. He was there all night and I had a sense of being watched over and protected.
In the morning, around 6 a.m., O’Hare came alive. The coffee vendors were the first to arrive and soon the whole place smelled delicious. I got up, folded my blankets, and gathered my backpack and one piece of carry-on luggage. As I turned toward where the man had been sitting, the seat was empty. I never saw him get up and leave.
I knew then he was my Guardian Angel. I’m not talking “metaphor”; I mean the Real Deal. How do I know? There are some things you just know.
Oh, yeah. Just so you know what happened to my luggage. It traveled on to Ontario Airport and arrived in Chino Hills 8 hours after I landed at LAX. At least it arrived! ☺
This past Sunday my sons, Paul and Andy, came over to help clean out my garage. Andy could not believe how much junk we loaded into his truck to be hauled away. The garage looks so nice I frequently look in just to marvel! ☺ It felt good to see all that “stuff” go.
Then, as frequently happens, the Universe steps in and gives me confirmation of what just happened. I received the following today by email from Neale Donald Walsch (author of Conversations With God):
On this day of your life, Beverly, I believe God wants you to know...
....that earthly possessions are not what you came here to gather.
Do not worry about your earthly possessions. Place your attention on your heavenly goal--the evolution of your soul--and you will find peace even while on earth.
You will not have to think but a second to know exactly why you received this message today.
I didn’t have to think about why I received the message. I knew. I have a storage closet and three bookcases that have to be sorted through next. The last time I started divesting myself of “stuff” my kids thought I had some terminal illness and wasn’t telling them. That’s how much of a pack rat I am. In that instance I kept getting the message that I had to get ready to travel light. I wasn’t sure if light meant “weight” or “spiritual awakening.” As it turned out, it meant both.
Can you hear me now?
I am posting this on both my on-line journals because it points out how we should all be listening to those warnings (whispers) from the Universe when things aren’t quite right. Ignore them at your own peril, as you will see from the following.
I have been following the blog (Shut Up and Pedal!) of a family of four who are pedaling from Walla Walla, WA to Bar Harbor, ME. The dad and daughter are on one tandem, recumbent bike, and mom and son are on the other. Their post for today, Friday, July 18, 2008, It’s Funny How Things Happen is an excellent example of synchronicity and listening to the whispers.
To summarize: the daughter got her heel caught in the rear wheel causing the bike to skid and created a major blowout of the tire. There just happened to be someone who was able to supply another tire to get them the one more mile to their destination. The only bike shop within 50 miles did, after all, have the right sized tire. On the way to get the new tire, a noise on the mother’s bike caught their attention and they decided to have it checked out while they were at it. In the process of checking it out, a cracked rim was discovered. Had that not been found, the rim would surely have failed and the result could have resulted in serious injury or death. They were able to have a new rim shipped to their next destination town.
The good news: the daughter and father were not injured in their incident; the blown tire was replaced; the cracked rim was discovered in time; they were able to get a new rim.
I highly recommend reading this particular on-line journal. The pictures and story are wonderful.
By the way, for all of you who think I’m nuts, what they are doing makes my plan to ride the Erie Canal pathway pale by comparison. ☺☺
In the early 1980s I hit another of Life’s Potholes. To say things were tough is a gross understatement. I needed to replace my car and I didn’t have any money.
One day while sitting on the edge of my bed in utter despair—out of options—out of nowhere and everywhere all at once I heard a voice say: God didn’t bring you this far to abandon you now. I said, “Huh?” And the voice from nowhere and everywhere repeated the phrase.
I was stunned and elated. I knew right then and there everything would be OK.
The next day I went to a car dealer in East Hartford, CT to see a car they had advertised and hoping I could talk them into selling it to me even though I didn’t have a dime! It had just been sold. But, they had a nice little car that just came in I might like. There she was—a yellow 1980 Pinto. She had four brand new Michelin tires, only 8,000 miles on her, and a little over a year old. I was shocked by the YELLOW color, but agreed to sit in the drivers seat. It felt like she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a hug. I knew I had found my car. I don't remember how I came up with the down-payment, but I was able to afford the financing. I named her Buttercup and in her dowager years she became The Lady Buttercup. The kids in the neighborhood would call her Butterball just to tease me.
I had to totally give up in order to let go of the problem and let the Universe do its work. I never have to worry, ever again. I know everything will be OK because God would not have brought me this far to abandon me now under any circumstances!
Take heart and know it is true for everyone.
When I was in college I hung out with a group that I thought were pretty Bohemian. Looking back we were all pretenders. We never liked being shackled by the laws of any authority. After graduation, we were all going to hop in a car and head west, working our way across the country, to see what we could see. The rest of the world and all it’s expectations be damned!
None of us ever did it. The universe had other ideas and one by one we were nudged, pushed, thrust, sent careening, or in my case, catapulted in another direction.
Speaking only for myself, in retrospect, thank God!
The Universe, in all It’s Wisdom, knew where I would wind up—living in squalor, drugged up, and ultimately dead at an early age. This was the height of the Beat Culture. Poets and writers like Snyder, Kerouac, Ferlinghetti, Creeley, Whalen and Burroughs emerged. As did Jones, Kaufman, Waldman. Beatles, Dylan and Baez were late comers, but all influenced by the Beats. I would have found that crowd—fallen in with them.
It is only now, at age 72, that the Universe has brought that culture-era back for my enjoyment through the CT Beat Poetry Festival that has been happening in the central Connecticut area from June 1st through June 8th at various venues. I have been going to some of the events, not because I know anything about these poets, but to support poet friends who are either moderating or reading. In the process I have started researching the poets to see just who they were and what is so special about what they wrote.
In reading their biographies I get that same old thrill thinking of being part of that Bohemian lifestyle. Being free. Having no man-made (or God-made for that matter) rules or laws to live by. Truth was god, but that truth was extruded from a mind made “crystal clear” by LSD and other drugs and put into words. Their Truths became poems, haikus, novels and screen-plays. This generation was more than Beat. They were Mad. They were Drugged. In reading their works I can understand a little bit of what they were trying to impart, but it’s the lifestyle that still excites me. I will forever be a voyeur into the culture that is called Beat. I will think about, dream about, go through all the what-ifs and savor my romanticized version of what was.
It all boils down to Freedom. The theme that has resonated throughout my entire life has been Freedom. I need to be Free. I’m happiest when I am on the move with no encumbrances.
Back to God in It’s infinite Wisdom. I had, and still have, more important things to do.
Yesterday I posted—“We Are Never Alone.”
This morning I turned on the radio (WJMJ in Bloomfield, CT) and they were playing the hymn “Be Not Afraid.” When I heard
Be not afraid.
I go before you always;
Come follow me,
and I will give you rest.
And thenIf you stand before the pow'r of hell and death is at your side, know that I am with you through it all.
it was as if the Universe wanted to confirm what I posted previously.
If you’re interested, you can go to the website and there you will find the words. You can also get a musical rendition without vocals so be prepared to sing along.
I listen to WJMJ (88.9 FM) because it’s the only radio station around that plays the kind of music I like (real old oldies, classical and occasional hymns). I don’t mind the 30-second sermons every 20 minutes or so; it’s the music I’m after.
God knows what radio station I listen to, which made it so easy for Him to get His message to me. ☺
I think it is important to know we are never alone. We always have angels, guides and guardians all around us to respond when needed. In the true story I am about to tell you, I did not consciously call for help, but it was there. I take great comfort in knowing I am always being looked out for—especially in those moments when I am most vulnerable.
The Fire Next Door
A widow and her teenage son lived next door to us. Next to her was a cemetery, and behind us, a trailer park.
One night, possibly February or March of 1982 (not at all sure of the date), I awoke to a lot of commotion and my daughter screaming, "Next door is on fire!" I ran to the front living room just as the fire department was pulling up.
Everyone got out safely—except the cat. It could have been a whole lot worse. Apparently the son and one of his buddies were asleep downstairs and a quartz heater was in use — too close to the sofa. The house was a total loss. They lost everything and my heart went out to them.
I went back to bed and felt strongly that I needed to do a cleansing of the entire area— my house, the burned out house, the trailer park and the cemetery. Negative energy hung over the neighborhood like a smothering cloak.
I called on Spirit to create a column of Pure White Light descending from Above, penetrating the Earth to its core. Once this column of pure, God Light was in place, I asked that the Light be intensified to the degree it could be tolerated and accepted, purifying all negativity. I held that image for a few moments, released it, and fell asleep.
I became aware of a knocking on my bedroom window. I did not open my physical eyes, but I could “see” a dark, hooded figure outside my bedroom window. From somewhere within me the words were spoken: “Go away, you are not welcome here. Only God dwells within.”
Again the knocking, further away this time and the figure had receded. Once again the words came forth from within me: “Go away, you are not welcome here. Only God dwells within.”
The knocking came a third time, very faint now. The figure was barely visible. Again the words: “Go away, you are not welcome here. Only God dwells within.” Now I was fully awake, fully conscious. While all this was happening, I was in a twilight sleep. I never felt frightened.
I sent a telepathic message to whatever had been outside my window: “If you didn't like the first cleansing, you are absolutely going to hate a second one.” I proceeded to call down the column of Pure, White, God Light and asked for another cleansing. There were no further disturbances that night or ever again.
I mulled over what had just transpired and wondered where those words had come from. Certainly not from my conscious self. I believe those words came through me from some protective source. Angels? Guardian Angel? My God Self? I don’t know and it really doesn’t matter. What does matter is that the protection was there then, and I know it will be there again should I need it.
Every day I get an email inspirational message from Neale Donald Walsch (author of Conversations With God). I don’t know why I get these messages. Someone must have signed me up and I’m forever grateful. Today’s message had to do with approaching everything you do in life with enthusiasm and joy.
I must admit I have always approached life like that. My poor friends and family. If I have plans for anything, everyone within earshot of me knows what I’m up to (hence the title of my other blog) - Look What I'm Up To Now). I am not able to contain my excitement. And, of course, I am of the opinion that what I’m doing, or planning to do, is so much more interesting than what you are doing. Why? Because, by my standards, if you were doing something grand and glorious you would be talking it up.
So, I'm telling you all now, no matter what you are doing, do it with enthusiasm and joy. Shout it to the rooftops! The "what" you are planning deserves all the joy you can give it.
Let us share it with you!
Yes, I guess at times I can be insufferable, but no one has shut me up…yet! ☺☺☺
Jon Roe suggested I tell the story of my struggle to stop smoking.
This may be a little long, but I encourage you to read it, especially if you are a smoker. You may see yourself in me.
It has been seven and a half years since I stopped smoking. If anyone had told me I would never miss the habit I would have told them they were crazy. I smoked for 51 years. Like most smokers, I tried many times to quit with no success. I believe there are addictive personalities, and if I were not addicted to nicotine, it would have been something else. I was totally out of control.
What made me quit?
During the five years before I quit, I had noticed a problem taking a satisfying deep breath from time to time. Nothing to worry about. Just one of those things. I should have paid attention. The problem occurred more and more often as those five years rolled along, but I was in denial that something was wrong.
Toward the end of March 1997 I had a panic attack (didn’t know what it was) and could not catch a deep, satisfying breath. I was hyperventilating, dizzy, and scared. I continued to light up. Don’t ask me how I ever got dressed and drove to work. I joined friends in the cafeteria for breakfast and Janine took one look at me and told me we were going to the Walk-in Medical. Next thing I know, I’m in her car and we’re off. I was diagnosed with COPD. I had no idea what COPD was. But I learned.
COPD
Chronic Obstructed Pulmonary Disease. That meant, in my case, that some areas of my lungs were no longer spongy like they should be and there was hard scarring. The good news, as bad as my symptoms seemed, the degree of scarring was small. COPD would get worse unless I stopped doing what was causing it. If I stopped smoking, then the COPD would not get worse, but it wouldn’t go away either. I pictured myself on the beaches of Cape Cod pulling an oxygen tank behind me. Totally the wrong picture of what I wanted in life. I had to change.
I started with the nicotine patch. That worked very well. When I was almost ready to stop the treatment, a new-born grandson developed problems breathing. I was so distressed I turned to my old friends, cigarettes. For the next three years I “played” with the nicotine patch. Wore it when it was not convenient to smoke; took it off hours in advance of purchasing my next pack of cigarettes.
This is where addictions get stupid. I would buy a pack, smoke maybe three to six cigarettes then, feeling guilty, would throw the rest away and slap on another patch. The patch was great for flying cross-country. Somewhere over the Rocky Mountains I would take the patch off and by the time I landed in either Los Angeles or Seattle, I was ready to smoke again.
In September of 2000, I was on Cape Cod enjoying my usual vacation, and because I was alone, I was smoking. I came down with a bad cold—had trouble breathing; then had a major panic attack (I still didn’t know what it was) complete with feelings of doom and wanting to curl up into the fetal position while lying on the floor because I was so dizzy and I knew if I passed out I would not fall off and hurt myself. I was there alone, the cottage had no phone and I had no cell phone. I thought I was going to die! I was scared.
When I got home I had some decisions to make. Did I want to quit smoking or did I want to die? To someone who has never been addicted, the choice is clear. No so to the addict. I enjoyed smoking. I loved everything about it. However, I decided I loved life more.
I had tried cold turkey, the patch, hypnosis, and gum. Nothing worked.
I had one option left—acupuncture.
Fortunately I knew someone who was an Acupuncturist – John Mammone in Wethersfield. I have known John for years, trusted him completely, and finally called him in November of 2000. John outlined a series of six treatments (two per week for three weeks). And so we began.
I am terrified of needles yet I did not mind the acupuncture needles at all. I barely felt them. I was cigarette-free from the very first treatment. For treatment #5, I came from work and had been having a very bad day. I told John I had people needling me all day and the last thing I wanted was him sticking me with more! He suggested we do some acupressure and other hands-on healing modalities instead. We did that for the last two treatments.
I have been smoke free ever since. I do not crave cigarettes. I cannot conjure up in my mind a scenario where I would light up a cigarette never mind inhale. It’s been so long that I don’t even have “smoking dreams” any more. I still like the smell of someone else’s newly lit cigarette, but it does not make we want one. A home or car where smoking is permitted is offensive to me. Smelling cigarettes on someone’s breath makes me wonder how others put up with me when my breath must have been just as stinky.
At the beginning of this story I made a statement about addictive personalities. You might be wondering what I turned my attention to in order to stay addicted to something. I have to confess that I am addicted to: bike riding, hiking, and writing – I maintain two on-line journals, write to five fine young men in the Marine Corps., write poetry as well as stories and articles.
In September of this year, my daughter Kathy and I are going to bike ride the Erie Canal from Niagara Falls to Albany, NY— a nine-day, 365 mile ride.
That’s going to be a lot more fun than being dead!
First I want to make it very clear I speak only for myself. Others should not consider this as advice because it is not. Always check with your own health care provider before taking anything.
I believe that if I eat right (most of the time) and choose my medications/supplements from the most natural sources possible, I will do the most good and least amount of damage to my body. This is a line of thought that I have embraced only in the last few years. After years of smoking and subsisting on crackers with peanut butter and apricot preserves, I’m lucky to have a body left to treat kindly. These bad habits are a thing of the past. Little by little I am learning better ways to live.
Without going into long drawn out detail, I present a thumbnail of what I have been doing that has worked for me. Maybe it will help others.
1) Armour Thyroid instead of Synthroid for hypothyroid.
2) Omega 3 fish oil capsules (I take 2 capsules 3 x a day) for Arthritis.
3) Quinoa (KEEN-WAH) FLAKES hot cereal for irritable bowel syndrome. IBS needs high protein and fiber. Quinoa has both and provides a non-meat source. Dress it up with cut up fruit, a little honey and soy milk.
4) Turmeric (curcumin) as an anti-inflammatory. Comes in capsule form or you can eat a lot of Eastern and Middle Eastern dishes that use Turmeric. Stops the pain of inflammation as well as ibuprofen without damage to vital organs.
Do your own research; ask your own health care provider. My doctor at least listens to me now as I explain why I take certain things.
This certainly was not what I had in mind for my next post. Life (and Death, I’ll bet) is full of surprises.
My high school classmate Marge sent an email announcing the passing of her husband, Ed, in Florida. I would like to share with you an email I received from Ed on May 7, 2007 about the passing of his friend, Ron, and the email from Ed’s wife about his passing. Ed’s tribute to his friend had a photo attached, which I am not including here. I was so taken with Ed’s tribute I created a Do Not Delete folder in my email just so I could save it. This man was so loving, sincere, honest and loyal. To be so loving, and to be so loved—we should all be so fortunate.
First, Ed’s tribute to his friend Ron (exactly as he wrote it) that I received May 7, 2007.
Subject: My Buddy
This is my buddy RONIE he left his friends and love one and fishing buddy last nit .... I hope his trip to heaven was great he really was such a good friend and a good person I will always miss him.... He had a heart attack and it took him some time life don't seam to be fare but I guess I was lucky he the one that got me in to fishing and I don't think I will ever catch a fish with out thinking of him....this hurts much more then the surgeons scalpel.....ED Q p. s....... He was only 61 years old I know a lot of you that I sent this don't know him...wanted you to know I am proud to have been his friend
Then, this tribute to Ed received from his wife (my high school classmate), Marge, on April 19, 2008.
Subject: Ed’s Fight With Cancer!
As you all know Ed has been over four years now giving the illness his all to win. Three surgeries, radiation, chemo, and with the last doctor trips and CT-PET scans, blood test continuous. He was doing well early March or so it seemed. On March 19 he was admitted to Munroe Hospital "touch of pneumonia" upon further test cancer had gone to lungs and throat, and other complications. They discharged him on March 23 (his Birthday) 73. His choice was to have comfort and dignity with Estelle Hospice House, Ocala. I was with my love, soul mate, best friend, to the moment he was lifted to rest and peace in the Lord's home March 31. I am sorry I didn't inform you sooner. I just returned home today. I've been with my sister Judy and my Mom what a blessing to have wonderful close family as mine. I will truly miss Ed. We were fortunate to have come into each other’s lives. We shared many great moments, traveled, were spontaneous often dropping things and go for what awaited us. Fishing, motorcycle ride, sail-all these fond memories will be my comfort. Ed lived a full life experiencing many things. Sailed ocean CT to Fl, Bahamas, Virgin Islands, Inter Coastal, Lakes, Scuba Dived love the Keys so beautiful and peaceful, motorcycle toured most of the states, tried flying but that was to confining, always the camera man, last love beside me was fishing could stay out all day without eating...to stay in touch with his friends was important. Again he certainly will be missed. Best regards and care to all...His loving wife, Marge.
There are so many experiences I want to share with you, but I think the best place to start is the most recent. This was a time of great trauma for my family. My grandson, Philip, was only 19 when he died in Iraq. I have never known such grief. It was as if my Soul had been ripped right out of me with no chance of getting it back. You want to talk about a Dark Night of the Soul? We have all experienced this, or will at some time, and it is an individual crisis. No other person can possibly plumb the same depths you have; cannot possibly feel the emptiness you have or will feel. Empathy can go only so far. In my despair I wrote a poem, Rituals and Prayers – the Questions. When I wrote that I was so mad at God we were no longer on speaking terms. Then, by the Grace of God, a month later, I had my answer. That’s when I wrote the essay, Rituals and Prayers – the Answers.
I present them to you now. First read the poem then follow up with the essay. By all means share this story with anyone you feel will benefit. I can only tell you what happened to me and what worked for me. Each of us has to find our own way.
Rituals and Prayers – The Questions
How many millennia ago
did our ancestors perform
rituals to ensure the sun and moon
would rise between two stone pillars
on a certain day
during a certain time of year
and set between
two others?
They didn’t know the sun
and moon would do that
anyway.
When did High Priests and Priestesses
realize they could convince the people
they were the tribe’s only link to the Gods?
All must make your supplications
through Me if you want
something done or not done.
They didn’t know things
would happen or not anyway.
When did we start calling it prayer?
Oh, God, please this or please
not that.
When prayers are answered
God and his Angels are heaped
with thanks and praise.
Thank you Lord for hearing my prayer.
But
When prayers are not answered
failure is placed at the feet
of the petitioner.
Oh Lord, what have I done
that I don’t deserve to have
my prayers answered?
I prayed every day
Keep my family safe from harm
especially the one in greatest danger
serving his country in a foreign land.
But
he died anyway.
What if
prayer does nothing?
What if
what seems to be an answered prayer
was going to happen anyway?
What if
what seems to be an unanswered prayer
was going to happen anyway?
What if
it doesn’t matter
whether we pray or not?
What if
it is going to happen or not
anyway?
© Beverly R. Titus
09/26/06
Rituals and Prayers – The Answers
Utter devastation and despair over my grandson’s death in Iraq plunged me into a spiritual meltdown. How could I ever trust God again? How could I ever pray again? How many times had I said All I can do is pray. Now prayer had failed me. I felt so vulnerable and powerless to protect my family. My upbringing and studies etched the power of prayer into my very Soul. For the first time in my life I was keenly aware that my prayer had not been answered according to my prayer. Now I saw what I had been taught all my life as a lie.
I knew he entered this lifetime with his own agenda. He had his list of things to be accomplished, loose ends to take care of before returning to spirit—mission accomplished. Beyond that understanding, I needed a new way to pray. We don’t always know what others have come back to do. So when I prayed for his protection and safety, what he came here to do over-rode my prayer. Let the highest good be served, did nothing to relieve my anger and pain. I spiraled out of control to the bottom of my spiritual pit.
When the student is ready the teacher appears, and so it was when I came across material dealing with, in part, the subject of Forgiveness. True Forgiveness, according to the material would shift consciousness toward the Law of Grace, the higher octave of the Law of Karma. The reader was asked if he/she was ready to truly forgive, and provided a general-category list of people, places, events and things that might represent issues. My issues were on that list. I thought about those whom I blamed. I saw them as my personal Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (Rev 6:1-8). In addition, there were the nameless, faceless Iraqis responsible for making and planting the roadside bombs. Could I forgive them? While meditating on Forgiveness, I remembered Jesus said, Forgive them, Father, they know not what they do. (Luke 23:34)
I called on Angels, Archangels, Ascended Masters, Brotherhoods of Light and, yes, God Himself, to help me truly forgive. Naming each individual and saying I forgive you lifted the weight of spiritual decay from my heart and Soul. I felt a palpable shift of something within me. My relationship with God has been renewed (Good Shepherd that He is!). I was able to truly forgive.
I still needed a prayer.
Again the student was ready and I came across this little gem: In the words of Meister Eckart (13th century German, Dominican mystic), If the only prayer you say in your life is thank you, that would suffice. I have been saying thank you as part of my prayers for years! I had never lost my prayer after all.
Thank you. I give thanks for all I am and ever will be, all I have, and all I am able to do. I am truly Blessed.
Thank you.
© Beverly R. Titus
10/26/06
I feel that in addition to my other on-line journal Look What I'm Up To Now I need a space to share my own spiritual journey.
If you are interested how I got to this stage in my life, may I refer you to my bio on ConsciousCT. The point is, I don't want to use up space by duplicating what has already been done.
This journal will not be as prolific as "Look". The other one is all about my day-to-day life. A Very Personal Journey will be of a spiritual, holistic nature and will be added to as spirit moves me.
Check in from time to time. In the meantime, let me offer you wisdom I use as my motto from Garfield the Cat:
It's amazing what you can accomplish when you don't know what you can't do!
