Day 88: Barefoot Children in the Rain

 Somewhere along the path, I forgot how to be a child.

When and where the forgetting happened, makes no difference.

The child spirit lives.

The mourning of what ifs is over.

Jimmy Buffet has the right idea.

Barefoot Children in the Rain.

Laughing and singing.

The complexity of simplicity.

How the road meanders and twists.

Mind travels in confusion.

A mouse in a maze with cornered sadness.

Poor little mouse.

Obstacles built to block the turns.

Instead, transform.

Fill maze with happy corners.

Tear down walls.

Wither skeletons.

Shrivel ghosts.

I call upon all children dressed in costumes of grownups.

Who long to dance barefoot in the rain.

Who long to go on Huck Finn’s and Jim’s adventures.

Characters emerge!

No need to hang ’round till judgment day.

No need to fret about getting caught by the grown ups.

No more swinging back and forth between freedom and restriction.

Release ball and chain.

Swing high in child’s land.

Be understood by those who play the game.

Those whom break free.

Show me your dreams and I’ll show you mine.

Show me your hearts’ desires.

The sillier the better!

Show me the days of moonshine—swinging under the moonlight worry free.

Come with me and follow the dreamers.

Build wistful memories.

Fiction over fact.

Sneak off in the night.

A band of traveling robbers.

A secret hide away.

Bounce on a bubble full of trouble.

Carefree and light.

Laugh at the fibbing, stealing, and misbehaving.

It’s all an illusion, anyways.

Barefoot Children In The Rain 1995

Jimmy Buffett, Russ Kunkel, Jay Oliver, Roger Guth, and Peter Mayer

Scratch my back with a lightning bolt
Thunder rolls like a bass drum note
The sound of the weather is Heaven’s ragtime band
We all fell down from the Milky Way
Hangin’ round here till Judgment Day
Heaven only knows who’s in command

Barefoot children in the rain
Got no need to explain
We’d be swingin’ on a ball and chain
It’s always understood by those who play the game
Barefoot children in the rain

Show me yours and I’ll show you mine
Take me back to days full of monkeyshines
Bouncin’ on a bubble full of trouble in the summer sun
Keep your raft from the riverboat
Fiction over fact always has my vote
And wrinkles only go where the smiles have been

Barefoot children in the rain
Got no need to explain
We’d be swingin’ on a ball and chain
It’s always understood by those who play the game
Barefoot children in the rain

Barefoot children in the rain

Scratch my back with a lightning bolt
Thunder rolls like a bass drum note
The sound of the weather is Heaven’s ragtime band
The sky turns blue and the sun appears
But the question’s still what are we doin’ here
I don’t think the answer’s close at hand

Barefoot children in the rain
Got no need to explain
We’d be swingin’ on a ball and chain
It’s always understood by those who play the game
Barefoot children in the rain
In the rain…
In the rain…

“The human race has only one really effective weapon and that is laughter.” ~ Mark Twain

Day 87: Season of the Butterfly

I have a gentle peace inside and am radiating with hope. In looking back over the last year, there have been multiple challenges that opened the door to deep inner reflection and growth. I am thankful for the season of transformation. At this moment, I am awakening again to myself.

In reflection, I realize that I allowed a part of myself to die last summer, an important aspect of me. I suppressed an emerging connection to the spirit (my higher power) out of fear of people’s rejection and judgment. In denying an essential part of myself, I became suffocated in fear and worry. My body ultimately shut down in response to me repressing my inner voice and true essence. Today I emerge a butterfly, having been wrapped in a cocoon of darkness. Though I was nourished, safe, and undergoing a state of transformation, I rejoice in the light of day. I celebrate the season of the caterpillar while I spread my wings and fly.

Last year I wrote approximately 70 pages of spiritual writing over a course of a few months. I established a successful and beneficial spiritual practice, and surrounded myself with healthy relationships and environments. I lost track of this path, took a turn down another avenue, when I analyzed the significance and purpose of my personhood through the assumed perception of others. In response to my fear-based thoughts, I applied self-created expectations, goals, and needs to my journey. Through this process of analysis and fear response, I forgot the road I was traveling on. Actually, I think I forgot I was traveling. I stopped in my tracks, pitched up tent somewhere, and camped out in hopes of gaining love and acceptance, all the while forgetting my own authenticity and life’s calling.

Today, I have packed up camp and am returning to the path. As I walk onward, I am strengthened in spirit and hope and thankful for how spirit has worked through me. I continue onward, knowing I was exactly where I needed to be on my life’s journey, and am always exactly where I need to be.

Below I have shared a spiritual piece I wrote in response to a question in prayer. The words are what I received in response. I’ve also posted one of my favorite poems and am reflecting on the powerful creative fortress within each of us. Thank you for being part of this journey.


What of Illness?

By Samantha Craft Spring 2011

It is rather simple. Let us find an example. Take a boxer in the ring with two gloves, one red glove and one white glove in color; he hasn’t a reason for having one red and one white glove, and isn’t confused or interested; he just sees he has one of each. His focus is on the man in front of him about to punch him in the face. If he took time to think about his gloves in that instant he would be knocked out. So he doesn’t.

This is the physical body: the boxer.

The physical body (mind) can sense and see things are not exactly as the world would make the body believe. The body can sense one glove is red and one white, that something is off, but it doesn’t have the time to process this or it will be knocked out. The body is too busy rebuilding cells, carrying oxygen and communicating to vital working systems. The gloves are secondary. Perhaps after the fight—after life—the body will sit down long enough in stillness and wonder about the gloves—but until then, as long as life continues, wondering isn’t a choice.

Continuing with the boxer. He is standing in the ring and sweating, circling, and guessing his opponents next move. He punches out, swings forward and the glove falls off, red or white no matter. What matters is the glove is gone, and the hand is exposed. Now, and only now does the boxer take time to notice the glove, because here he has lost the fight, and the initial challenge is over.

Now sitting in the corner, still breathing, and very much alive, the fighter will have a chance to examine the gloves and wonder why they are different colors. Who did this? Why did they do this? Who can I blame? What happened? Why me?

If you haven’t guessed by now, this is a parable for how sickness affects the physical body.

So let us explain: It is only when you lose what you once considered your primary importance to living that you stop long enough to analyze where the gloves came from in the first place.

In other words, you stop fighting long enough to sit still and question how you got the gloves in the first place, and how in the world they are mismatched. This is the sickly person, the ill taken, the previously formidable turned apparently weak. But in actuality they are no less weak than when they had two gloves, they only think they are because they have become so dependent on the gloves—so dependent on ignoring what is right in front of them in order to win.

So as you appear sick at the moment, remember this is only you stopping long enough to examine your missing glove, and to recognize they were mismatched. You knew before, you surely knew one was red and one was white, but you kept fighting, because that is all you thought you could do. Now surely when your timeout is over, and you return to the ring with two matching gloves, having have solved any mystery you attempted to solve, you will notice your gloves with a higher degree. You might even treat them a bit differently—treat them with respect. This is the best we can explain it.

When you are sick, it is your spirits way of saying we need to stop fighting for a while and notice what is directly in front of us before we get back in the ring. It is our spirit saying we are tired of fighting. It is our body’s way of saying there is something amiss that requires attention—what ever level you are comfortable giving me that attention is completely fine, but please take care of the issue at hand.

Grumpiness over illness is what you call normal—grumpiness about being out of the game for a bit. But gratitude is more appropriate, because all around you people are swinging punches with two mismatched gloves and not even noticing.

Take this time to figure out how your gloves became mismatched. Figure out how to match them again. Figure out if you want to keep fighting, or perhaps leave the ring for a bit, even forever. This is your ultimate choice. We keep mismatching your gloves, you keep ignoring, until one falls off, and then, my precious child, it’s time to sit out some.

The Voice in Love’s Garden

by Samantha Craft 2011

The voice in love’s garden

Though withered, though frail

Triumphant in calling

Flows forth, bold the sail

Ship sprung from deep valley

Of bitter, of cold

Seeks ease from wind’s blowing

Through rivers that hold

To canker not sorely

To parch not again

To rise not the urchin

Less thee drown in thy sin

Come; march in like troopers

Whence faith seeds from bone

Light ever the forest

Where tramp shadowed alone

For nil eyes to fathom

The coursing of chance

The grace twice endowed

With life’s circumstance

Call forth idle trumpets

Thyself and thy truth

Bestowed as blind starships

Sweet daughters of Ruth

Tiptoe, touch the clovers

Tender green of begin

Retreat in placid pastures

The solid fortress within

More of my spiritual writings:

Prophet in my Pocket

The Wounded Healer

A Sliver of My Sacred Hour

Day 86: I Am Tree

These last four days have been life changing. The combination of the new medicine and diet for my health condition, the sunshine, and the companionship of a dear friend have pulled me out of a two month-long period of deep depression. I know now the depression was more than situational. Besides an uncomfortable experience at the university I’d been attending and the death of our beloved family dog, I discovered earlier this week that my vitamin D levels are extremely low, my iron levels still below normal, and my protein levels very low too! Throwing in my new hypothyroid diagnosis, and considering any one of the before mentioned conditions can cause exhaustion, I’m surprised I could even get off of the couch.

As I am emerging from the dark tunnel of fatigue and depression, I am celebrating internally—my spirit soaring and applauding. I am applauding a renewed energy. I am applauding my strength, endurance, and patience. And I am applauding my experience.

No matter the degree of challenge, I understand the past weeks have made me stronger in spirit.

I continue to be hopeful my health will improve. Yet, I am releasing control to my higher power.

Today, through the help of my friend, I created the mantra: I am tree.

I am a tree. And in being a tree I need not worry what will land on me, break me, climb me, peck me, burrow into me, or even cut me down. I only need to be a tree and nothing more. And I am perfect in my treeness—perfect in my being. Like a tree I will not fret and will not fight against the unknown. I will be. I will live. And I will grow.

I recognize I have slipped back into old patterns, or what I call my old mold. Just as the physical body sometimes retreats back to an old set weight, the spiritual body can retreat back to a set way of living. For me this old way of living includes a fear-based mentality and many moments of over-thinking. I am visualizing a new mold that benefits my spirit.

I recognize I have been attracting to my life much of what I have been fretting about. I recognize that by focusing on beneficial thoughts, I in turn will benefit, as will those around me.  I knew this before, but today I see my journey from a new vantage point.

In the coming days my hope is to continue practices of self-care and self-love, as I release control and let the seasons of my spirit unfold without struggle. I am tree. I will be. I will live. I will grow.


Day 85: You’ve Got a Friend in Me!

Photo found at

My friend that I have known for almost twenty years visited me this weekend from out-of-town. Here is a list of some of the things I learned about proper etiquette during our weekend together.

You’ve Got a Friend in Me

1. Don’t take your vegan friend to dinner at a seafood and steakhouse restaurant, even if the place has a very nice water view.

2. Don’t forget to put a hand towel in the guest bathroom for hand drying.

3. Don’t forget to buy a box of Kleenex, so you don’t have to hand your friend a roll of toilet paper when she is crying.

4. Don’t give your friend unsolicited advice about her relationship with her siblings, especially if you are an only child.

5. Don’t interrupt your friend in the middle of her serious talk by leaning across the dinner table, tugging gently on her long blonde hair, and saying, “You have such pretty hair! You look like Rapunzel.”

6. Don’t accept a wrapped present from your friend, examine the shape of the gift, and before unwrapping, proudly ask, “Is this a framed photo?”

7. Don’t interrupt your friend in the middle of a joke with the punch line, even if you are super excited that you figured out the end.

8. Don’t tell your friend that the guest bedroom gives you the creeps a little bit; she might have trouble sleeping in there.

9. Don’t tell your friend that the previous owner of the house you live in filled the guest bedroom with wall-to-wall china dolls, because your friend might insist you sleep in the guest room with her.

10. Don’t tell your friend you’ll sleep in the same bedroom as her to make her feel safe and then quietly tiptoe out when she falls asleep.

11. Don’t tell your friend your son sees the ghost of your dog in the guest bedroom and that you think it might be a portal to another universe; because your friend will opt to sleep on the couch, despite the new pillow and new sheets you bought for the guest bed.

12. Don’t lean in real close and ask your friend if she can see the small zit you feel growing on the tip of your nose.

13. Don’t read ten posts of your blog in a row at midnight to your friend, even if she is laughing hysterically.

14. Don’t ask your friend if she could please listen to one more blog post, after she has yawned and said she is falling asleep.

15. Don’t show videos that you posted on your blog as an alternative to reading more posts, your friend will become more tired and her eyes will begin to shut.

~ Love you “L.” You’ve got a friend in me!



Artist:Randy Newman & Lyle Lovett
Movie:Toy story

You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me
When the road looks rough ahead
And you’re miles and miles
From your nice warm bed
Just remember what your old pal said
Boy, you’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got troubles, well I’ve got ’em too
There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you
We stick together and we see it through

You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me

Some other folks might be
A little bit smarter than I am
Bigger and stronger too
But none of them will ever love you the way I do
It’s me and you
And as the years go by
Boys, our friendship will never die
You’re gonna see
It’s our destiny
You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me

Day 84: The Best Mirror

My good buddy is visiting for the weekend. She gave me a photograph of her and I in her swimming pool over the summer in California. In the photo, we are close together with our arms supporting one another. The caption reads:

The Best Mirror is an Old Friend.

Her gift reminded me of the true gift of friendship, beyond the giggles and tears, and pure joy of spending time together, I am learning about myself and my journey through my friend—a reflection of me.

I was also reminded of my favorite poem by Dale Wimbrow.


When you get what you want in your struggle for self
And the world makes you king for a day
Just go to a mirror and look at yourself
And see what THAT man has to say
For it isn’t your father or mother or wife
Whose judgment upon you must pass
The fellow whose verdict counts most in your life
Is the one staring back from the glass
Some people might think you’re a straight-shootin’ chum
And call you a wonderful guy
But the man in the glass says you’re only a bum
If you can’t look him straight in the eye
He’s the fellow to please, never mind all the rest
For he’s with you clear to the end
And you’ve passed you most dangerous test
If the guy in the glass is your friend
You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years
And get pats on the back as you pass
But your final reward will be heartache and tears
If you’ve cheated the man in the glass.

Written by Dale Wimbrow 1895-1954