Yesterday my husband lost his wedding ring. This is the second ring he has lost. You might think he is either very, very forgetful or very, very uncommitted. Neither is the case. Both rings have unfortunately been a wee bit too big for his finger but neither was able to be sized. My wonderful and sweet husband couldn't bear to not wear either ring, so both ended up falling off and getting lost. Wedding rings are easy to buy, if you have the money, but these were particularly special and irreplacable.

The first was given to him by his father. It had been his ring, designed by his beloved wife many years ago. This loss broke two hearts. I told my husband then that the ring would find its way back to him eventually. I still believe this although the ring seems to be taking a very long journey to come back...

The second ring was designed by me. A friend, a fledgling jewelry-maker, beautifully crafted this ring that not only was made from love, but was as much an expression of love as you can fit into one little ring. It was covered with hearts, masculine, engraved, deep-set hearts that seemed chiseled by time and creative flowing waters. The top of the ring is finished with a piece of steel shaped into a heart and tied with a knot, soldered on and forever a reminder of the bind between us.

This is the latest ring to be lost.

Funny thing, though, this new awareness, this new consciousness, this new love that I have, created a different response from me upon hearing of the loss. I closed my eyes and listened to my spirit and I knew without any doubt that the ring would come home. I told him to relax, which is really very much like telling a fish it's quite okay to just breathe the air. He proceeded to dig through the trash and I went for a walk around our yard. I didn't look closely at anything, I simply walked and waited for the right moment to look. Every few minutes or so I stopped and took a deep breath, almost smelling for the wind to lead me to my destination. I was never worried, never rushed.

It was about 15 minutes later, my husband deep in the trash barrel and hating life, that I finally smelled it. I was standing in the flower bed with my eyes closed. I let everything in...the sounds of the day, the breeze on my skin, the ant crawling on my big toe. I opened my eyes, turned once to my left and looked, for the first time, for the ring. It was there, shining in the grass, smiling at me.

This is how love finds things. When we quiet our restless spirits and just allow ourselves to be, the things that most need to find us will find us. Seeking is oftentimes just a waste of energy.

I lost a friend about a year ago. I have never loved, truly loved, in action as well as words, a woman (aside from my mother) this much before. She wasn't someone who initially clicked very well with me. I actually found her habits quite annoying. But somehow she grew on me and we became very much like sisters, as I imagine sisters to be since I am an only child. We were never, ever bored with each other. We always laughed, we often cried, we shared everything we could with each other. I don't know what spawned this love, honestly, since we were as different as we could be in every way I can think of. No matter what happened in our lives, no matter how mad or frustrated we might be with each other, there was one constant overriding truth...we were in this friendship for life. I pictured her being there with me throughout everything, and I with her.

She stood by my side when I got married. She was with me for the pregnancies and births of my two children. She is my son's godmother. Through the trials and tribulations of this particular friendship I learned how to be better at love. Then she left. She didn't die, although I have mourned her for the past year as if she had died. She just left. She had issues, some OCD, significant depression, suicidal thoughts, a terrible childhood. But she had us, she had a support system. She had people who loved her and loved her well. We were her family.

Losing my friend has taught me a lot. For the first time in my life I had to face the potential fact that love wasn't always enough. For the first time I had to face the realization that, although with this friend I had been a much more wonderful person than ever before, I still was doing something wrong, wasn't good enough. I learned that love can't solve everything.

More than a year has passed. When my friend left she left suddenly and with little other than a short email telling me to get out of her life and leave her alone. I wondered if she wanted me to fight for her, to run screaming to her apartment, begging her to come back, telling her how vastly important she was to my life. I wondered if she meant what she said, if she was just suffering from some mental delusion that required my intervention and assistance. I wondered if I was the crazy one, but I have the profound luck of being married to an extremely grounded and wise man who assured me that I was not the problem.

During the last year I have proceeded through the textbook stages of grief as I came to terms with the loss of my friend. I have had my eyes opened to the beautiful women around me who were wondering if I would ever have time for them. I have pushed myself out of my comfort zone to befriend new people to fill that void. I have sought to fulfill myself through other avenues than just being with my lost friend, or just grieving for her. I healed.

My devoted love for her allowed me to let her go. I came to terms with the fact that she obviously needed something other than me to get better. I realized that fate was leading her on a different path. I will always miss her but I have said goodbye.

So, of course, Fate is a fickle creature and I got a Christmas card from my departed friend. I loved her so much that I was able to put my own grief to rest in the knowledge that she was now living with the choices she made and hopefully all would be well for her. I loved her so much that I didn't go screaming after her, ever, and allowed her to fly on her own to find her fulfillment. I loved her so very, very, much, that I denied all of my instincts (which were to fight for her, struggle for her, demand that she remember how much we loved each other) and I let her go. Then she came back and I had already grieved. I already said goodbye. I lost her, but, I believe the more important fact now is that she has lost me.

I am not angry. I am not vindictive. I am at peace with this. Being at peace is what makes it so very hard to go back. You cannot go back. So I responded to my friend's card in two sentences: "For years I have loved you as my sister. I am very grateful to know you are okay."

The End.

Since I'm a busy mom I imagine it will be difficult to post as frequently as I'd like, but today I have time and the mind to send up more than one, so here goes.....

There's a lot of talk about ethics these days. What's the right thing to do? What's the ethical thing to do? My local newspaper even has a weekly ethics column to tell people what to do. Really, is all this necessary? We are all hard-wired with the same knowledge of what is right and wrong. (for the most part....I of course make exception for people who were born with different wiring, but that's an anomaly) The problem is that we have so many people and machines telling us what to do that we've forgotten how to listen to ourselves. It drives me a little mad when I overhear conversations about this or that ethical dilemma and how to solve it. There is one, and only one answer that I have ever found to solve any dilemma and here it is.

Ask yourself the following:

What decision will come from love?
Will my decision reflect a love for myself? Will I protect my precious self with my actions?
Will my decision reflect a love for others? Will I help protect others with my actions?

People do tell me that I am over-simplifying issues, that I don't take into account the complexities of this or that situation, but I have found that to solve a very difficult problem you break it down to its most simple elements. Love is the answer we seek, we just have to be able to turn off the t.v., turn off the computer, turn off the radio, turn off the phone, focus, focus, focus.

Do I live in a bubble? Most certainly not. I live in the world you live in. I shop, I watch, I listen, I read, I take in all the crap that is out there fighting to get in my head. But I also cultivate the ability to shut the door and keep it out. Things are out there making us stupid, people! I go to the grocery store and t.v. screens are blaring telling me what to buy. Not only do they think I can't assess my own grocery needs, but they also think I am hard of hearing and in need of constant entertainment. The inside of my head used to be a scary place, but I quite like it a lot now and everywhere I go I am being told to look, listen, feel, but don't think!

The technology is not going away. We must, and should, embrace it. But we must also learn to let it go, to push it out and make it stay in its place. We are the flowers being trampled by the bulldozers. We are the butterflies being killed by exhaust fumes. We are the wide and bright eyes of children being put in front of Barney every day instead of looking at blades of grass between our toes.

Today, if anyone reads this, I ask you to go outside your comfort zone and think. Just be. Listen to the wind. Let you control you and not whatever else is out there trying to control you. Be in charge of your own mind and let it take you to fabulous, or scary, places. It's okay.

I am a person in progress, always looking for ways in which I can become a better wife, lover, mother, daughter, member of society, a better example of love in action. I am posting this blog as a window into my attempts to overcome my own intolerances, insensitivities, faults and ego urges. Hopefully I can help someone else begin to change through the power of love, as I am seeking to do.