faith, spirituality, writing

Sychronicities, God and Peacocks. It’s a Thing

Beginning this summer I started hiking every day in the beautiful hills of Santa Susana. In between chatting with fellow teacher friends and attempting not to fall on my ass (or that it didn’t bug me when I actually did fall on my ass…which was about every day) I felt like I could see Indians still living in the hills. Sometimes I’d see a snake slither by or a coyote slink past due to recent fires. I loved these hikes. Not only did I develop a beautiful friendship with women I only knew on a surface level the prior year at school, I also felt a deep spiritual connection to the God of my understanding.

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I am Christian. I love Jesus. I feel the Holy Spirit stir in me constantly, nudging me sometimes to push harder, other times to just rest in his love. Like the big JC, there’s a time to pull out the whip and a time to kick back with homies and have a fish fry.

I also, however, discovered a well of spiritual truth that goes beyond my Christian framework. And that well was tapped by peacocks.

It started with my friends driving me to an adjourning neighborhood where wild peacocks roamed. Vibrant and colorful, it was hilarious to see them preening and strutting next to garbage cans and brick patios.

The next day I saw an ad on a bus that involved a peacock.

This wouldn’t be a big deal to me if I hadn’t also seen a peacock in some stained glass while lunching with Tuskany and the kids at a funky pizza restaurant.

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And at LAUSD headquarters. 14 stories up. In the tiny corner of a banner that just caught my eye.

Or on a Trader Joes grocery bag I randomly picked up near the chocolate almonds.

Or at a friends house… in the middle of the city… where there was a water bowl. “What’s that for?” I asked. I was visiting her to discuss my latest faith crisis. I had not yet moved churches yet and I needed the wisdom of this lovely 70 year old hippy. More than that, I needed an ear to just listen while I sorted it out.”Oh, that bowl is for this peacock that just started showing up at our senior complex. It’s weird. We have no idea where it came from.”

Add in citings on stationery, cards, devotional covers and fat men with tattoos at the gas station covered in peacock memorabilia and I finally got the idea to look up the meaning of the peacock.

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Here’s what I found this wild fowl signifies in the Spirit Animal world. (Note: My inner evangelical started screaming at the woo woo ness of this idea, but my inner spirit had bigger muscles. Yup, that brute chokeheld my uppity church gal and urged me onward.)

Note: I have always believed that God is in sychronicities. I pay attention – hence finally getting my head out of my feathered arse and looking up the peacock meaning.

The Peacock Meaning

  • Awakening
  • Spirituality
  • Many eyes of God (like the feathers)
  • Resurrection
  • A love of language, lovely things and eccentricity

Okay, okay… maybe this represents me. But come on, really?

Then post my big church exodus, this book randomly comes across my Facebook feed:

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And to think this whole time I thought my spirit animal was a taco truck.

(Thanks God, I’m listening. And strutting!)

PS: One hour after I wrote this post I was waiting in line in the restroom of the Pasadena City Playhouse. My friend, Cat, had bought me tickets to Ragtime. She’s a p.e. teacher and I’ve never seen her use a real purse. Until tonight.

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Of course.

Happily Ticked Off Tip #17: Pay attention to synchronicities. It’s God’s way of getting your attention.

My book is available on Amazon. (Note: It’s a special ed journey… your kid doesn’t need to have Tourettes to relate!) Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. 

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education, parenting

This is the Greatest Show! (Of Anger and Resentment. Send in the Clowns, Baby!)

I thought I hit “publish” on this post yesterday. But after a less than stellar day dealing with a new job, a family death, being low on gas, being a speaker at a meeting with my husband and the realization that “Yes, I CAN do it all, just not all at once” I goofed up. Please enjoy a post where I out myself on being a less than perfect parent. #progressnotperfection.

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Yesterday…

Today I totally overreacted with one of my kids over something I had asked them to do the night before. (Not once, not twice, three times.)

My requests often feel like a stack of dishes on my counter. No matter how high they grow, they are not often met with “Let’s bolt out of our chairs and get right to that, Mom!”

But I had already danced the dance of “Am I nagging if I ask a fourth time? / When will they learn to be independent if I bug bug bug?” so I dropped it. Well, not quite. I also texted from work.

Crickets.

And the request still wasn’t done. I was irked when I finally saw my child and really raised my voice, throwing in a few examples of other things said child doesn’t do in a timely manner.

And then I huffed into the living room. And shock of all shock, my self indignation did NOT make me feel better.

After a bit I remembered that just a few hours earlier the dean had called my classroom regarding two kids who had escaped from my room and were found pounding on bathroom doors.

Um, is it possible I dumped on my kid because I felt dumped on?

Ding ding ding!

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Why do I always go back to the same well? I guess I need to keep getting hit with the same lesson until I change. It’s not unlike what I’m teaching being taught at school with my art students. Just like the classroom kids, I have every right to give my teen a consequence for not following up. But getting angry and surly? It does nothing.

What’s it about, Andrea?

It’s all about ME setting expectations, letting go and knowing that some things are just what they are – age appropriate defiance/immaturity/distraction. Doesn’t matter. It only matters how I perceive and react to it.

Bottom line: ITS ALL ABOUT ME! (Hey, I normally like that last part. Just not in these cases. You know… the ones where I need to give God my character defects and be willing to change to avoid pain.)

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Ten minutes later I had prayed, gotten quiet, saw my part and was ready to start fresh. This meant going back into the kitchen and apologizing for my outburst.

Which I did!

Only to be met with a slow, direct stare and be told, “Please come back in 20 minutes. I need time to decompress from my grrrr’.”

I wanted to pop the kid. But at the same time, this particular knows who themself, and said self means not deigning to dive my instant gratification/push push push/apology well of crazy. I had no choice but to respect it or head on over to the big clown tent for another show.

Now if I only I can learn this same lesson before my emotional explosions instead of afterwards. Constantly buying circus tickets is expensive.

Happily Ticked Off Tip #16: When I try to fix or criticize other people, there is always something disturbed in me. And that gets me mad. Because that means there is no one to blame but myself. #Stupid truth.

My book is available on Amazon. (Note: It’s a special ed journey… your kid doesn’t need to have Tourettes to relate!) Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. 

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