I will admit to occasionally choosing the wrong outfit at the wrong time. I don’t have much of a sense of “style.” For me, style means whatever is clean and comfortable, above all else.

It happens many mornings, after I get ready for work,  that one or both teenaged daughters will look at me with raised eyebrows when I come upstairs in the morning.

“You’re wearing that?” they might ask with exasperation, scorn or disbelief.

I usually go change immediately.

You might remember, if you’ve read this column before, the time I wore sandals and cute capris to the pig-picking event.

My dear friend told me to dress appropriately. It was a cool, early spring morning. What could be more appropriate than cute sandals, which were, I might add, waterproof, and capris?

When I got to the fairgrounds to help my children choose their 4-H pigs from the hundred or so on display, my friend looked at me with dismay and said the all-too-familiar line, “You’re wearing that?”

I thought maybe she had talked to my daughters. But no, she was incredulous that I would wear something so wrong.

She thought I was going to help pick up baby pigs and put them in the trailer. I thought I would stand in the sunshine and watch, from a safe distance. This was just one example of my inability to pick the right outfit for an occasion.

During an end of summer trip to San Francisco, the kids wanted to stop at the Golden Gate Bridge overlook.

I pulled the jeep into the parking lot, and the kids raced out of the car, not even looking back to make sure I followed.

My older daughter and I were both wearing skirts and flip-flops, which is entirely appropriate for San Francisco.

It is not, however, appropriate for careening down the face of a cliff to the ocean below, which is exactly what the three younger kids were doing. They found a quasi-trail and hurtled themselves down it to reach the ocean.

Deirdre and I stood at the top of the cliff, watching them slide across rocks, down the barely visible trail.

I suggested we might find a better trail, but she was concerned about leaving the kids alone near the water.

So, we did what any reasonable person would do. We started down the face of the cliff, wearing our flip-flops and skirts. Fortunately for me, I was wearing a skort, a skirt with shorts underneath. It was short, but stable. Deirdre had a short skirt that immediately blew up over her head. She could not hold the skirt and the cliff face, so I offered to go ahead of her to prevent anyone from looking up her skirt. After several harrowing minutes, we made it, barely, to the waters edge. It was quite a show for those waiting below.

I believe my biggest wardrobe malfunction came recently, during a beautiful fall afternoon.

I was wearing a dress and tights. I decided it would be a good idea to feed my bees, before the weather turned cold. It’s not good for bees to go without food, nor is it good to open the hive when temperatures drop.

Rather than change out of my dress into pants, I decided to put the bee suit on over my dress and feed them quickly. It’s a five-minute job, and I figured I’d be done before the bees had a chance to get too mad.

Wrong.

I opened the hive, carefully prying off the lid with a hive tool. At first, the bees hummed gently in the afternoon sunlight. When I started adding the syrup water to the hive, their quiet hum turned into a very angry buzz in a matter of seconds. They dive-bombed the bee bonnet, which fortunately protected my face. They landed on my arms, which were covered with elbow length gloves. Unfortunately, the bee suit is only a shirt. It ends at the waist. The dress billowed in the breeze, attracting unwanted attention from my now angry hive. Those bright pink tights must have agitated the bees even more. Before I could get the full gallon of syrup into the feeder, I felt them landing on my legs. I couldn’t swat at them, because my hands were full.

Instead, I felt their angry stings, one on each leg. As I raced to empty the syrup into the feeder and replace the top of the hive, I noticed that several bees were stuck up under my dress.

My heart was pounding. If I left these bees there, I would surely get stung in some very tender areas. So, I did what any smart beekeeper in a dress would do. I lifted my dress over my head and began dancing wildly, to get away from the bees.

I’m sure, if it were anyone else, it would have seemed comical. Instead, my heart pounded with panic as I envisioned bee stings in every place you don’t want to be stung.

I raced away from the hive, flailing wildly, and finally the bees stopped pursuing.

This might be an opportunity to examine more closely my apparel, but I doubt it. After all, what fun would that be?

Namaste, friends

Life is short. It’s too short not to live your dreams. I was recently talking with a friend about the nature of life, and destiny and dreams. She told me about a professor she had at the University of Wyoming. One day, while snow was blowing all around, the wind freezing it to windows and walls and barren trees, he came into class and announced, “It’s springtime in Paris.”

With that, he walked out, never to be seen again. She said they did receive a postcard from the professor, from Paris.

It is time to celebrate springtime in Paris. Time to embrace the changes before us, leave behind the mistakes, sorrows and failures of the past and launch into the future.

Life is too short not to fulfill your destiny. Each of us has a calling on our lives. Some may call it a life’s purpose, the “raison d’etre” (French for the purpose of existence), or the meaning of life. Man has searched since creation to find his place in the cosmos.

I maintain that it is not so hard to find your own truth. What is harder is to live your truth, to let your life be an expression of your greatest self, to show the world who you were really created to be.

When you choose to do that, then you too can celebrate your springtime in Paris.

Most people wonder how to discover that purpose, but the discovery is not so hard. What do you love? What makes your heart sing? What things cause you to lose track of time and space as you get caught up in the moment of creation? That is your destiny.

Your greatest self awaits. All you need to do is listen to your heart. What is your heart calling you toward? Once you hear the small, still voice of the inspired Universe, take a step toward it.

Maybe you can’t quit your job, or leave a relationship today, but you can take one step in the direction of your dreams. Living your destiny won’t be easy, but it will be fulfilling, comforting, compelling and challenging. You can do one thing today that will bring you toward that dream.

Listen to your heart. It is your direct connection to Spirit. Your heart knows what to do, even if your mind starts a litany of excuses and arguments. Let your heart direct your path as you move toward your dreams.

The first step in fulfilling the grandest version of yourself is to stop and listen. Now breathe deeply and relax. Everything will be fine. There is nothing you have to do in this moment but listen. When you hear that small, still voice, let it speak. Do not snuff it out.

Next, think of one small step you can do today. Just one thing to bring you closer to the person you want to be. What is one thing you can do, that will make it more real, more solid, and more true? Just do that one thing today.

Tomorrow, begin again. Listen. Breathe. Do. When you begin moving in the direction of your dreams, the entire Universe will conspire with you to bring your dreams to fruition.

It is time for my springtime in Paris, and as I move forward into a greater calling, I challenge each of you to abandon your fears, gather hope and take a step forward.

There is really nothing to lose, but you have your whole life to gain.

Namaste, friends

I think fall is my favorite season. There is much to be said for the newness of spring, the potential and rebirth, for the warm, luxurious days of summer, loaded with possibility, and even winter, with it’s cold, icy grip has a beauty all its own.

The glory of fall causes me to pause, catch my breath, and thank the Heavens for their majesty. Warm days with golden sunlight tease us into thinking that it might never end.

One of the last plants to flower in my garden, after the abundance of blossoms in summer, is a common and to some people, weedy sedum called Autumn Joy. During the summer, when the garden is showy and bright, Autumn Joy is plain and green. As bees bustle from daisies to Echinacea to poppies to columbine, the sedum stands alone without a flower in sight.

 At the end of the season, as the daisy heads are covered with seed, the Echinacea has lost its luster and the poppies have died back, Autumn Joy takes the stage. Autumn Joy sedum bursts forth with beautiful heads of red, pink or orange flowers. It is often the last blossom standing in the garden. The bees cover the flowers, in a last minute attempt to gather nectar for the cold winter ahead. The red blossoms stand out, in a sea of brown and fading summer blooms.

When I see Autumn Joy in my garden, my heart lifts just a little, and I am reminded that even as fall bursts forth, life is not over. There is still blossoming to be done, not just by Autumn Joy, but also by me, and by everyone else.

Fall is not a time to prepare for the end, but a time to break into late blossom. It is never too late to blossom into the life you truly desire. Just like Autumn Joy, each one of us can grow and blossom in due time.

We live our lives, counting the passing years and mourning the days gone by. In youth, as in spring, we are filled with ambition and potential. We hardly note the passing of time as we leap forward into the possibilities of our lives ahead.

Productivity in later years, much like summer, is promising and enriching. Our lives take on a rich texture as we fill them with the things we think matter. We have families, we buy things, we glory in the abundance of the summer of life.

And finally autumn brings a time to slow down a bit, enjoy the fruits of our labor and reflect on the beauty of life around us.

But this time is not just for sitting back and basking in all that has happened. Some people are filled with dread, as they look toward the bleakness of winter, but there is still plenty of time to blossom into a new place, in the autumn.

Autumn Joy, the beauty of the late bloomer. We can all bloom where we are, whatever the circumstances. It is never too late to find a new calling, begin a new chapter, or emerge from the summer into the joy of autumn.

Wherever you are today, take a moment to enjoy the beauty of this place we call home. Notice the cool breeze, the glow of the afternoon light, and the shimmering golden leaves. Then, take a moment to notice the places in your own life where you can blossom. Let Autumn Joy serve as a reminder that it is never too late to bloom.

Namaste friends