Sunset Flame

Making Peace . . .  On Life ~ And Death ~ Part III ~

“We are ALL connected . . . We are not isolated islands. We are interconnected, and we all affect each others’ Lives. Remember . . . Celebrate Sherrie’s crossing over. Celebrate Sherrie’s Life!”  D.T.

When Tragedy Strikes ~ Lessons About Life ~ From Dying

Ten years ago this Spring, one of my best friends was killed while riding her horse. This is the final post in a series of my struggle with the loss of my good friend, Sherrie T.

Take a deep breath. It’s a difficult topic. Yet, one Life demands from us . . .

(Please read previous posts:  Lessons for Living ~ From Dying, ~ On Life ~ And Death ~ Part I ~ and Anatomy of an Accident ~ On Life ~ And Death ~ Part II ~)


It took a long time to sort through my many emotions, losing Sherrie.

Loss. Grief.

Alongside happiness for having known her.

Gratitude. Elation.

It was difficult making sense of it all.

Not long after losing Sherrie, I talked with a wise client, D. T., and had a conversation with her about what happened. She shared with me her Sage perspective.

Here are my notes: Life ~ Death ~ Lessons

As difficult as it seems, good things — lessons — come through a person’s death. These are some of the biggest lessons in a person’s Life — at the time of passing over. Such as:

* How we cope

* The lessons we learned from their Life

* Reflect with clear eyes vs. sainthood. (We tend to put away faults when a person dies, but not when they are alive)

* We learn: To let go. To LOVE

* Not to dwell on picky-uny things

* To Rejoice in Life! It’s a Grand Gift!

* To prepare ourselves for our own passing


Canoe off Lani Kai

It’s OK to Cross Over – We will be Fine

* Sherrie accomplished what she needed to accomplish.

* The trick to Life is to listen to our Intuition, our “Little Angels”

* Sherrie’s death started us all in Self-Reflection — raised everybody’s insight . . .

*** She needed to hear the vocalization of who she was — hence, my poem. She heard it. She got it! The acknowledgement. Perhaps there was no need for her to stay any more. Perhaps this was the missing link to her Life Puzzle.

* It’s OK to cross over — we will be fine :))

* Her passing presented the final lesson to many people whom her Life had touched

* Death brings out the best — and the worst in people. That in itself is part of the lesson

* We are not the victim. We fight with reality — but we have free choice. We tune into our higher self, and we make choices . . .


Plumeria Blossom in Roots

~ We are All Interconnected ~

And in hearing all this I flash on Sherrie at the Endurance Ride when we first met, when she asked me if I would come and trim her horse’s hooves. And I suddenly realize a new lesson, a new connection with my Life, and Sherrie.

I say to D. T., tears in my eyes, “You wouldn’t have me work for you were it not for Sherrie. She launched my Hoofcare career. She started me working for other horses and people, rather than just my own horse herd.”


And D. T. reminds me, “We are ALL connected . . . We are not isolated islands. We are interconnected, and we all affect each others’ Lives.”

“Remember . . . Celebrate Sherrie’s crossing over. Celebrate Sherrie’s Life!”


Iwa Bird in Flight

The Ultimate LESSON:

And I realize that she’s right! A Life lived is worthy of Celebration!

And she reminds me:

* Family, friends, we’re all OK!

* People slip in, slip out of this Life

* When it’s time to move on — someone else is going to fly on in . . .

* Accept this — Love this —That’s the way it’s supposed to be, Life. An endless chain of lessons


Hobie Cat

Celebrate Sherrie’s Life!

It is well with my Soul.

I Love you, Sherrie. And I know that you’re happy in your new surroundings.

I know that I shall see you again!

And just as I have learned from your Life, I’ve learned from your death.

Ten years have passed, yet I still feel you with me :))

I see you in my work, and in the people and horses and animals that surround me!

I thank you for reminding me to stay safe, centered, calm.

To look out from myself. And to connect with my environment, and with those around me.


The coffee I drink today,

         The kind words of encouragement I say —

                 This is My Life

Seize the moment —

       Savor the flavor —                    

              Make my connections.



Lighten up :))

I Celebrate your Life, Sherrie!

And through you, I am reminded to lighten up.

Celebrate my Life. As well as those Lives surrounding me.

And not to be so glum. Not to look for the picky faults in those I love.

For Life is short, and none of us really know how much time we all have here.


And I’m glad to be your friend.

Please enjoy your travels, ride your horses —Shiloh, Zephyr, and the rest.

And smile your beautiful smile!

And live your after-Life with Zest!

Until we meet again!


Sherrie’s up —

Up for travel, up for fun.

Life’s adventures just

Begun. She’s a marvel,

She’s possessed with a

Special kind of zest —

Sherrie T.!


Sunset Beach


Postscript: Sherrie’s husband,Tom is well. I speak with him every year, around the date of Sherrie’s passing. His Life is full, shared now with a beautiful, loving woman who lost her husband, around the same time Sherrie had died.

I also stay in touch with one of Sherrie’s good friends, and have learned from her that several women have stopped riding their horses that were considered unruly, unsafe — saving many from injury and accident. Thanks to Sherrie. And all that she’s taught us.


Round Rainbow








For insights into the lives of horses, please visit Dawn’s sister blog: Soul Horse Ride

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…/< >\ …/< >\ …/< >\

Starboy in Sunlight


Copyright 2014, 2017

Liemanna blowing conch shell

Anatomy of an Accident ~ On Life ~ And Death ~ Part II ~

What makes us more vulnerable to accidents, I asked? Beware anything out of the ordinary: distraction, interruption, loss of focus, added or different people, any break in your normal routine . . .

When Tragedy Strikes ~ Lessons About Life ~ From Dying

Ten years ago this Spring, one of my best friends was killed while riding her horse. This is the second post in a series of my struggle with the loss of my good friend, Sherrie T.

(Please read previous post:  Lessons for Living ~ From Dying ~ On Life ~ And Death ~ Part I ~)


In the previous post, I did my best to come to terms with losing Sherrie. Seeking to go Up, into Goodness, and search for meaning in her loss . . .

In this post, I analyze what happened in her tragic accident, and strive to learn how to stay safe.


The Anatomy of an Accident

As much as I needed to come to peace with Sherrie’s passing, I also needed to understand:  How? Why? What happened?

What could have prevented this???

Sherrie and I were both horse professionals. She was an excellent horse person. What caused Sherrie’s tragic death? How could I learn from this?

So I set out to find out what happened that night.

A short end-of-day ride. A series of unfortunate blunders. But blunders, that on any good horse, would not have lead to her death.

In the long run — my conclusion here — Sherrie died trying to make a bad horse good.

I learned at the Memorial Service, later, that a friend had asked her that morning why Sherrie no longer did Endurance Rides.

“Because I don’t trust my horse,” she replied.

Yet that evening she rode that horse, and she died, crushed by him when he fell on her in slick, steep footing, after spooking and bucking her off.


What did My Accidents Have in Common?

In trying to learn from Sherrie’s accident, I decided to look over my own. To look at every accident I’d been in — car, horse, and otherwise — and search for a common set of circumstances, trigger’s, or tip-offs that might spell trouble in advance.

(I also learned to cull the bad horses that elude domestication, that can’t be counted on to keep a rider safe. From temperament to visual to other physical limitations, evaluate the prospect for safety and compliance throughout the training process.)

Life is full of risks, and all of us engage in activities that are potentially deadly — all the time.

(How about driving in a car!)

How can we know when something should be avoided? Is there some intuitive warning system that we can learn to heed?

I made a list of everything I could think of.

What did my accidents have in common? Was there any knowing beforehand?


No Outlet

Red Flags! — Warning Signs!

In looking over the accidents, I found the following similarities:

1)    Strong, Overriding Emotion

Pressed for Time!






2)    **Broken Routine**

Something out of the ordinary — a series of mistakes or doomed circumstances, any one of which may be benign, but in combination prove to be deadly.

Normally I do it this way, but today . . . another

Usually I ride in this saddle . . . but today . . .

Visiting guests, gusting wind, distractions . . .

3)    Intuitive Hit

Gut Feeling

Head’s up Hunch


Don’t Do It

This Isn’t Smart


Not Today!


Slow Down!

Conclusion: STOP! Wait!

If you have any of the above circumstances, STOP!!!

Take your time. Wait it out.

**WATCH the guiding emotion!!**

If it’s fear, or pressure, or anxiety: It’s not worth it!

Disengage! Slow down!



Accident-Prone Combination

I saw that often a series of blunders or mistakes made any activity way more likely to be dangerous.

Like, for example, a carriage incident I had one Thanksgiving when I went to harness Starboy to my Meadowbrook oak cart. I was in a hurry and didn’t really have the time . . . but

* I INSISTED on driving the carriage that day! (Overriding Emotion)

* My horse trailer that I tied to for hitching, was parked, for the first time, in the wrong place, on a down-sloping hill. (Break in Routine   the Ranch owner had moved the trailer because he made a new road to split up his property)

The Incident:

I hitched Starboy, tied to the trailer. He took one step forward. His neck turned like a noodle — but because of the down-slope my trailer was parked on, the odd step he took, and the restriction of the carriage on his hindquarters, he promptly buckled over — breaking the entire leather harness! (Requiring extensive repairs.)

Carriage drive over before it began.

(Fortunately he wasn’t hurt.)


Although I don’t recall having a feeling of dread (Intuitive Hit) on that incident, I did on some of the other accidents.

And yet sometimes, even when I’ve had a feeling of dread — everything worked out fine. So that emotion alone isn’t always a “given” for determining fate.

Yet a combination of the above seems to pre-determine susceptibility to an accident.



And I’ve learned from this, and I believe it’s saved me.

I’ve learned to listen to my intuition, and to back off when I feel pressured or rushed.

Like the other day, when I was in a funk. And I didn’t feel like driving in Malibu-to-home rush-hour traffic. And I stopped. And I listened.

And instead of hitting the freeway, I drove back towards the beach, parked my car and took a hike up a sweet Springtime canyon.

And I felt the sun on my skin, and I heard the birds chirp. And I smelled the young green foliage.

And I chilled out. And I was Grateful for my Life. And I drove home safely later, when the pressure was off . . .


Clear Clouds

Anatomy of an Accident:

1)    Listen/Follow Your Intuition

* Quietly seek out Peace and Calm

* Let no Emotion interfere with this

* Move forward When the Energy seems Peaceful

2) Beware of Insistent, Stubborn Emotion — ie: Rushed for Time

* If feeling: frenzied, rushed, “off”, negative, insistent —

* STOP! CHILL OUT! Off-set the emotional spiral

* Wait for the Chill to return . . .

3) Caution: Especially Beware: Broken Routine!

* A series of blunders, poor judgment precedes disaster

* Beware anything out of the ordinary: distraction, interruption, loss of focus, added or different people, any break in your normal routine

4) PRAY! Ask for Insight

* Take a moment to meditate. Pray. Chill out. Breathe . . .

* Look up, out, into Nature. Connect with something peaceful

* Seek angelic help: What should I do? Go? Stay? Postpone???

*** This loops us back to #1)

5) STOP! WAIT! Don’t proceed further until the Energy clears

6) Stay in GRATITUDE

* We communicate with Spirit, God, through feelings, thoughts, desires . . .

* The most potent prayer is a prayer of Gratitude.

* Stay Grateful — Look. LISTEN. Feel.

(See My Yoda Story)


Molokai Hybiscus


Considering I work with big, potentially dangerous horses on a regular basis, I can report that this system has worked.

Following the above guidelines has, literally, saved me.

I am much more chill about my actions now. I avoid going forth when feeling rushed or distracted or pressured.

I feel no shame in stopping and walking away from a potentially dangerous or nerve-rattling  setting.

I now take the time to center myself, go up into Goodness and Gratitude — and feel the energy settle before setting headlong into what I’d planned to do.

I have also eliminated certain horses from my riding program, based on their inability to comply with the reasonable wishes and directions of their handler/rider.

And I thank you, Sherrie, for helping me understand all this.

For out of your tragedy, you gave me a beautiful, reflective gift.

And it’s just like you, to think of others, Sherrie. To give. To learn. To teach.

Our friendship continues, beyond time and space. Blessing and growing and continuing in the Goodness it began with, so many decades ago :))

Molokai Rainbow


Next post: Making Peace . . . On Life ~ And Death ~ Part III ~ Putting the whole experience together, making peace with not just the reality of Sherrie’s passing, but the Celebration of Life we all deserve, no matter which side of the Veil we exist on . . .


For insights into the lives of horses, please visit Dawn’s sister blog: Soul Horse Ride

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…/< >\ …/< >\ …/< >\

Laddie Looking -- Look Out


Copyright 2014, 2017



Vibrant California Rainbow

Lessons for Living, From Dying ~ On Life ~ And Death ~ Part I ~

How did she know? How did I know?

Sherrie and I re-connected at the threshold of her passing, a month before her accident. Follow this story of friendship, intuition and synchronicity surrounding the questions of Life and death. And the surprising Life Lessons, and unpredictable peace, that has come out of it.

When Tragedy Strikes ~ Lessons for Living ~ From Dying

Our lives affect everyone around us . . .


We don’t even know . . .

Ten years ago this Spring, one of my best friends was killed while riding her horse.

This tragic accident affected everyone who knew and loved Sherrie.

And, I’m pretty sure that her death has, on more than one occasion, quite literally — saved my Life.

Because, you see, Sherrie is not really “gone”. Sherrie is still here — still loving, still smiling, still giving.


A few things I’ve discovered:

* Sherrie and I are still connected. Even before her passing, we talked about Living, about dying. And in some strange way, we were prepared for it. Like it was all part of a Giant Cosmic Plan.

* I’ve analyzed her accident, and my accidents, and made a list of guidelines that have helped keep me safe . . . and will help you, stay safe, too. (See my next post, Anatomy of an Accident.)


* Every now and again, when I’m in a precarious situation with an unruly horse — Sherrie seems to drop in from the ‘other side’ and yell: “STOP! Get out of the barn!”

And I’ve learned to LISTEN.

And I put down what I’m doing.

And I walk away, unscathed.

And I Thank God for Sherrie T.!



Everything Happens for a Reason

It has been said that everything happens for a reason. And I like to believe that.

But how difficult that becomes when you lose someone you love . . .

Yet I feel the need to share this difficult topic — of losing Sherrie — in hopes that others will benefit from her Life and death. Like I have.

Her story, and the lessons that came out of it, may be her final gift to us all.

I’ve waited ten years; I’ve run it past her husband, Tom. And with permission, I tell this story.


This entry is a long one.

Highly interconnected.

So take your time.

Read this post in bits and pieces.

It took years in Sherrie’s and my Life for this drama to unfold.

Savor the flavor!

Listen up . . . and learn . . .


Sherrie's Cat, Tawny

Meeting Sherrie

Certainly the day I met Sherrie happened for a reason, at a remote 25-mile Endurance Ride above the Antelope Valley in the mid-90s.

Somehow in the line-up of horses and riders that day, our Souls found fellow friends.

We rode “drag” together, the last ones on the trail — talking about horses, and hooves, and rides we’d love to do . . . and by day’s end, we vowed to meet up again, soon.


Sherrie was an animal person, through and through. She always had at least five horses, two dogs, several cats . . .

And everything was bountiful. Foals, kittens, pups.

Sherrie was generous in so many ways — with her time, her enthusiasm for Life, and with what she knew.

We rode trails together, ate meals together, spent hours talking on the phone. Her friends became my friends. Her community became my community.

Sherrie always helped needy animals find fitting homes.

From Sherrie we got our cats and kittens. We got our beloved older Welsh pony gelding that she had rescued, that my kids adored.

Sherrie was always learning, and always sharing what she learned.

She introduced me to many breakthroughs in the horse world: Natural Horsemanship, rope halters, quiet, effective techniques.

And through her generous introductions, she ended up jump-starting my equine farrier (Hoofcare) career.

Thank you, Sherrie! I am so grateful to you for all of this!




Now lets jump to 2007, just before Sherrie died.

Here’s the timeline:

Sunday, April 1, 2007: Due to travel and work, Sherrie and I hadn’t seen each other much over the past couple years.

She and her husband, Tom, had moved to a nearby ranch in a temporary living situation. They had sold their previous property and were building a new, more distant ranch, that wasn’t quite ready to move into yet.

On this day, Sherrie invited me out so she could study farrier skills with me, and learn how to trim her own horses’ hooves.

We spent the day working together with her herd. Laughing, catching up — trimming hooves, sharing stories . . .

The biggest piece of news: The Car Accident. Sherrie told me this amazing story:


The Car Accident

It turns out that Sherrie was nearly killed in a head-on crash just a year or so before. (Dec ’05)

She, Tom, and the dog, were driving back from visiting Tom’s family in Arizona for Christmas.

For some reason, Sherrie explained, all she wanted to do that morning was leave for home — pronto — so she could return to their horses.

She was unusually insistent.

“We just gotta get out of here!”

They drove all day, covering hundreds of miles.

And then, after dark, just a couple miles from home, suddenly — over a rise — four headlights appeared.



It turned out, three teenage girls were out joy-riding, and the driver had decided to take a chance and pass another vehicle on a blind hill.


Tom veered their older model Jeep to avoid the crash — but there just wasn’t room for three vehicles on the two-lane roadway.

Steel crashed into steel . . .

Sherrie and Tom felt the Jeep rock back and forth.


In the Jeep, Sherrie took the brunt of the blow.

In the teenager’s car, the front-seat passenger, tragically, was killed. The driver and rear-seat passenger were hospitalized, but survived.

The third car escaped unharmed.


Tropical Clouds

~ Miracles ~

Somehow, Sherrie lived. Stuck in the mangled mess.

Miraculously, Tom’s head was spared from being struck by a heavy tool in the back of the Jeep — instead, it impaled into one of the boxes of Christmas presents his mom had given him earlier that day — probably saving Tom’s life!


Sherrie Laughs :))

Sherrie told me that when she got to the hospital, she just laughed. The doctors couldn’t figure out why.

“I laughed because I was alive!” She told me.

“I just couldn’t stop laughing!”

Apparently that’s not the response the doctors had expected!


I marveled as Sherrie told me her death-defying story. Her body was weakened from her injuries, but she was still tough.

At the end of the day, after working together, we hugged, and said our goodbyes.

On the drive home, I kept thinking about what she’d told me. I kept seeing her in the hospital, laughing — and imagining the doctors’ reaction.


The Poem

The next morning, I awoke early, just before 4:00 am.  (Not my usual time, especially after working hard the previous day!)

But a lyrical rift was busy constructing itself — repeating over and over in my head — the beginnings of a poem, all about Sherrie T. . . .

It came in so strong, so insistent, that I got up, turned on the computer, and began to write.


Mt. Pinos Twilight

From my Journal:

April 2, 2007


4:00 am

(I saw Sherrie yesterday — I taught her how to trim her horses. I awoke with this:)

Sherrie T.


Smashed and broken?

Cannot stop Sherrie T.!

Severed ribs, severed Jeep,

Head-on crash cannot keep

Sherrie down.


Happy smile, happy faith

Laugh in hospital’s

Deadly face. Bleeding

Skull cannot keep

Sherrie down.


Challenged childhood

Challenged mom, toughened Sherrie,

Loved by Tom. Lives for

Horses, friends and pups —

Sherrie’s up.


Up for travel, up for fun.

Life’s adventures just

Begun. She’s a marvel,

She’s possessed with a

Special kind of zest —


Sherrie T.!


Honolulu Fireworks

I read it over. I got the chills.

And tears it was good.

Later that day, I read it to my Hawaii artist and writer friend, Susan, when she called.

She got the chills, too, and told me to be sure to read it to Sherrie.

I would, I figured, the next time we’d talk.

Yet I didn’t call Sherrie directly. I had horses to shoe and work to do, and then there was prepping and leaving for my out of town work . . .


Flash to the 2007 timeline again:

Wednesday April 18: Packing for work, feeling overwhelmed, I felt a presence, a hand on my heart, saying: “STAY. Wait. Don’t go!”

Written in the margin of my work book that day:

My intuition said: “Wait to fly to Hawaii — wait ‘til Friday!” I heard this, felt this — very clear. “But this (change in flight) will cost me money,” I protested. “And I’ll have to work really hard” (to get all my work done in a shorter time frame).

The Quiet Inner Voice said: “Wait!”

So I did.

Thursday, April 19: Then, because I stayed, I was home the next day — and, Sherrie called!

We started to talk, to catch up.

And then I realized that I hadn’t read her the poem yet.

Then, as I read her the words, Sherrie got quiet. Emotional.


She seemed completely taken aback.

“Do you really see me like that?”

“Oh yes — yes, Sherrie, I do! I see you exactly like that!”

Nearly in tears, “Really? You do?”

“Yes! Sherrie, you’re amazing! Whatever obstacles in your life, you rise above them.”


Olamana Peaks

And we talked about her car accident, and about my near-escape-from-death carriage wreck (with Welsh-cross mare, Fauna, summer ’06).

And we marveled:  “We’re alive!!!”

“Isn’t it AWESOME!”

“We both should have died!!!”


“Somehow we LIVED!”

“We’re ALIVE!!!”

And we talked about our friendship, and all the connections we have.

And we shared gratitude for our Lives.

And we vowed we’d stay in touch when I’d return . . .


And we hung up the phone. And I continued to pack. And I knew I’d see Sherrie again, when I got home.

Maui Sunset from Moloikai


Timeline continued, 2007:

Friday, April 20: I fly out of town for my regularly scheduled, Hawaii (Oahu), farrier hoof and horse work.

Saturday April 21: (The night after my arrival, late pm. — one full week before Sherrie dies.) My friend, Susan, and I sit and talk under the stars in her outdoor Lani Kai courtyard. And I say the most amazing thing.

I tell Susan that I feel very strongly the need to write my kids and my husband a letter “for when I’m gone” — for when I pass away. (Influenced by the conversation I had with Sherrie about how we had both survived accidents that should have killed us . . . )

Sunday, April 22: I awake the next morning, and I take action and write: For When I’m Gone. (See below)

Saturday, April 28: Unbeknownst to me, late afternoon, back home in Southern California —  Sherrie is killed in a horseback riding accident on her big Warmblood gelding. Just ten days after our last conversation, 27 days after I last saw her, 26 days after I wrote my poem about her.

Thursday, May 3: Before my return flight, while driving my rental car, I talk with someone from home.

She asks, casually, “Do you know a woman named Sherrie T.?”

“Yes, my good friend.”

“Well, I read in the paper she that she died!”

“She was killed while riding her horse.”



“What? NO!!!!!!!”

Pull the car over.

Just outside Lani Kai.

By the little church.

Side of the road.

Pale green grass.


Tears welling.

Disbelief — Panic!

Hang up the phone.


“Oh God, PLEASE!!!”



Three Palms

And then, the strangest thing happens.

I feel her presence, with me in the car —

“Sherrie? Is that YOU???”

And I talk with her.

And she seems to answer me.

Like our last conversation before I left on my trip.

I hear her . . . Feel her . . .

Everything’s just FINE!”

Smiling at me.

“No, Sherrie, NO!”

Comforting me, through my tears.


And I recall our last conversation — when I stayed home and cancelled my flight. When I read her my poem . . .

And I recall what I wrote, just the week before, for my kids, my husband, of what I wanted them to know — how I wanted them to be able to respond, when I’m gone.


And I can’t believe all this is happening.

How could this be?

What are the chances of all this???

How could we have, at some level, known?

And I realize that I must apply all that I’ve written about my eventual passing — to Sherrie’s death — NOW.

Because without Sherrie — without our recent re-connection and conversation — I never would have written my philosophy on Life and death — For When I’m Gone . . .


Looking Glasses

From my Journal: A letter to my family, to be read . . . when I pass on  . . .

For When I’m Gone

April 22, 2007

Lani Kai, Hawaii


I’ve always been an adventurer. Striking out alone with my horse Rebel in the Los Padres National Forest behind Santa Barbara for a ten-day camping trip at age 18 was my idea of fulfilling my dream.

Living in California, working in Hawaii.

I’ve always made friends wherever I go. The bus driver, flight attendant and workers at my favorite restaurant become part of my support and my joy.

I believe God put them in my path — and I remember them, and I am remembered by them. They help make my travels more rich, more home. More fun.

Yet I’m flawed at packing. I love to be gone and out on the road, but I hate having to actually LEAVE.

Travel and Death — Travel and Rebirth

In all my years of travel I’ve discovered a distinct relationship between travel and death. Travel and Rebirth.

It’s always a painful effort to pry my life away, pack up my gear and go — (thank God for cell phones!)

So packing and leaving represent the death process. Separating from the people & stuff & place I love the most.

Death, like labor and childbirth, ain’t easy. It takes surrender and acceptance and breath.

It takes faith — like under-the-hibiscus, in-the-horse-trough, no-doctor-no-nurse-no-midwife-childbirth. Like ocean swimming an infant.

It takes faith to live like God really is in charge — God really does love me & care for me & look out for me.

Yet God provides for the intensity of childbirth & death — as proved by all those who have gone before us — and I just have to surrender — completely surrender — to His love and care and protection . . .

Because God is the protector of my Soul. The Great Game Master.

And I am acting out my Character in the grand Game of Life — interacting with other Characters within the Bigger Plot and all the intricate sub-plots Life has to offer.

The movie of our lives is already shot and in the can. And we are watching it all play out . . .

And if we can watch with assurance that God is good and God is in charge, then all that happens here — the good and the bad — truly do work together for good in the biggest, highest picture.

It Is Well with My Soul

Now you see, my life circles round with: packing, leaving, adventuring — learning, returning, sharing — adventuring, packing, and leaving again . . .

My assurance to you at this time of your loss: It is well with my soul. I’m out on another adventure!

I’ve packed (the painful part). I’ve traveled (and met people along the way). And now I’m at my destination — surrounded by those I love and know.

I’ve come home — to my “other”, heavenly home.

Like from California to Hawaii, to the family I haven’t seen in so long.

Don’t Weep For Me.

Keep me in your heart as if I’m on one of my journeys.

Know that I’m trotting down some turquoise beach somewhere — diving into the ocean and doing somersaults.

I’m re-uniting with loved ones lost. I’m learning new language, new customs, seeing new landscapes and learning the lay of the land.

I’m galloping with Fanta and Mentor and all my horses that have passed before me!

Consider Me Traveling!

Don’t consider me dead — consider me traveling :))

Please save up stories about your adventures for me — as always — to share the next time we’re together.

Please send telegrams, cards, emails, phone messages and instant messaging . . .

(Who knows — at the rate today’s technology is advancing, I’ll probably be able to answer you back!)

And I’ll write/phone/message home my travels to you, whenever, however, possible.

I’ve lived my life. I’ve loved my time here with you all. And I’m so very grateful that you are part of my life!

This Is YOUR Lifetime. You Go Out and Live It!

Remember, this is your lifetime. I’m living mine. I’m loving mine. I’ve had mine.

Now you go out and live yours, like you always have, giving it all you’ve got. Connecting with those whom God put in your path.

“Just be/do your best!” (Mom, Grandma Warby) That’s why we were all put here.

If I’ve made any sort of a difference to you with my life — then you go do the same.


The coffee you drink today,

         The kind words of encouragement you say —

                 This is Your Life

Seize the moment —

       Savor the flavor —                    

              Make your connections.



Cloud Ball Bogenvillia

And that’s my letter to comfort those I love. That’s my philosophy on death and dying — and on Life and Living!

So how do I apply all this to losing Sherrie?


I MUST Accept What Is

I realize: Sherrie had a tragic accident.

I must accept this — accept what is.

Sherrie isn’t here in the physical any more.

Yet, Sherrie is alive. In Spirit. In God.

Sherrie is free!

She’s out of pain.

She’s on to a new series of friendships, travel, adventures . . .

And she doesn’t want me to weep for her, but to be joyful for her.

Happy that she’s in a good place.

And I must keep my promise. That we will stay connected.

And I shall keep an ongoing dialog with her, in my heart.

Sending her my energy outwards, in LOVE — rather than hold on to sorrow or fear.

And I realize, I can still learn from Sherrie. Not just from her Life, but from her death.


Lenticular over Cuddy Valley

Lessons from Sherrie’s Death . . .

And, flying home to California, I call Tom the next day.

And we cry.

And we share our shock.

And we share our grief.

And he tells me everything that happened that awful day.

Because I have to know.

For my Life, too depends upon knowing what went wrong.


And after talking about all that, I tell Tom how I’d felt her peace.

Her presence.

Her smile.

And he shares that he felt her, too.

And I learned from Tom that Sherrie, years ago, had her own Near-Death experience.

And she knew how wonderful Heaven would be . . .


And Tom and I talked about our love for her — and, awkwardly, embarrassingly — we rejoiced in her new-found happiness . . .

And we rose above our sorrows that day, and we talked about the highest good we could muster.

And we knew that Sherrie had given her all in this Life.  And she had risen above many, many obstacles.

And yes, we would sorely miss her.

And yet, we also knew, that some Greater Plan was somehow making sense of all this.

And by Grace of God, we experienced a feeling of peace.


North Shore Palm


Next post: Anatomy of an Accident ~ On Life ~ And Death ~ Part II ~ My analysis of what happened that day, which has surely saved my Life. And how to learn to Live Life the best we can.


For insights into the lives of horses, please visit Dawn’s sister blog: Soul Horse Ride

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…/< >\ …/< >\ …/< >\

Little Dawn with Breyer Horses


Copyright 2014, 2017


Birthday Flight!

Family of Flying

Oh the joy! I got to fly a helicopter for my Birthday :)) out of Camarillo Airport — not far from my native Malibu.

And a visit to the WWII Air Museum there prompted a memory I hadn’t thought of in years.

Is it possible? Could it be?

VariEze Aircraft, Camarillo

Outside the Museum hanger, parked on the tarmac, was a solitary white homebuilt aircraft. Perched there, awkward — looking sort of like a dolphin out of the sea.

Sharply pointed winglets.

Canard off the fuselage.

Pushed by a rear propeller.

A Burt Rutan VariEze experimental design.

VariEze Aircraft, Camarillo

Our tour guide described it as “Vintage.”

“In fact, it’s for sale,” he announced.

Is this one of the planes flown by Charlie, Joe and Mack, back in the late 80s? Over my Malibu home?


The memories flood my mind.

Suddenly I’m there again . . .

Here’s the memoir of these long-ago events, written in my Journal, a few years back.


Malibu Twilight

Charlie, Joe and Mack Malibu, 1980s

They used to fly over us

At the Yerba Buena house,

High up in the saddle of

Malibu’s Boney Ridge.


Three identical aircraft

Angular upswept wingtips,

Canard off the fuselage

Homebuilt VariEze crafts.


I would hear their engines’ familiar

Buzz and stop whatever I’d be doing

Race outside, drag out the kids,

Point and make a fuss . . .


Photo Credit: Wikipedia: By Stephen Kearney (Personal collection.)


I used to stand there, waving wildly,

Shouting out their newly assigned names —

“Hey Charlie! Joe! Mack!

How’s it going up there?”


“Beautiful day for flying!

What airport are you guys out of?

Camarillo? Oxnard? Santa Paula?

Where are you flying to today?”


My little kids thought it was great —

Certain that I knew them;

Happy to greet Mommy’s

Three ace flying friends.


Bellanca Beckons

Flashback — My Family Flying Roots

Suddenly I return to my flying roots —

No longer a new mom raising my daughters,

My horses, up a canyon in Malibu,

Strapped firmly to the earth.

Dad with an earlier plane.

Dad with an earlier plane.

Suddenly I’m there with my Dad —

I’m maybe twelve years old —

In the cockpit of his beloved

Beechcraft Bonanza . . .

V-Tail Beechcraft Bonanza — same style as Dad’s.

V-Tail Beechcraft Bonanza — same style as Dad’s.

My Dad, bigger than life —

Top Studio Musician,

Twentieth Century Fox

Orchestra by day —

My Dad (foreground, Saxophone) and my Uncle Lloyd (Trombone ) on the Carnation Plaza Gardens Bandstand at Disneyland.

My Dad (foreground, Saxophone) and my Uncle Lloyd (Trombone ) on the Carnation Plaza Gardens Bandstand at Disneyland.

Disneyland Bandleader by night.

(Hired by Walt Disney, himself.)

Commuting nightly in his own private plane —

While others sit stuck in traffic below.

That's Dad, Bill Elliott (Ulyate) next to Walt Disney, Uncle Lloyd, also in white coat, with Music Greats (Les Brown).

That’s Dad, Bill Elliott (Ulyate) next to Walt Disney, Uncle Lloyd, also in white coat, with Music Greats (Les Brown).

“My Dad works at Disneyland!!!

I’ve been to the Park dozens of times —

And we fly there in my Dad’s airplane . . . “

(No wonder the kids at school didn’t believe!)

Article about Dad commuting to Disneyland in his plane.

Article about Dad commuting to Disneyland in his plane.


Listen to Dad here – Entire Album, Date Night At Disneyland, The Elliott Brothers Orchestra, recorded at Disneyland, 1958


And Dad’s love of flying came from

Grandfather, 1918, U.S. Army Air Service.

I can still see the framed black and

White photos hanging in the hallway

Grandfather Conway Ulyate, U.S. Army Air Service, Fort Sill, Oklahoma.

Grandfather Conway Ulyate, U.S. Army Air Service, Fort Sill, Oklahoma.

With Grandfather smiling proudly in a WWI-era biplane,

Wearing the very same leather flight helmet he left to me

(Along with his log books — fifty hours of meticulously

Documented flight: straight, level, spins, stalls . . . )

That's both Grandfather and Grandmother on a recruiting tour for the U.S. Army Air Service.

That’s both Grandfather and Grandmother on a recruiting tour for the U.S. Army Air Service.


Today, it’s just Dad and me, no older sisters or

Younger brother to share Dad’s love. We take off

From Oxnard, en route to Santa Monica —

Flying toward this same range of Malibu mountains.

Malibu Mountains, Zuma Beach and Point Dume.

Malibu Mountains, Zuma Beach and Point Dume.

I look down below at the magical shrunken

World that always happens flying with Dad —

A bird’s eye view that reveals little cars and houses,

Swimming pools and fences.


Roads and trails — straight and twisted.

Green cultivated fields, curving rows of orchards,

And tiny bushy trees like those along the miniature train tracks

At the Lionel Model Railroad store near Grandfather’s house.

Pilot Flying...

Then today, Dad hands me the controls and lets me fly.

“Hold it steady,” Dad instructs. Oh my gosh, I get to fly!

Looking out, it all seems different — I’m flying, the plane —

And doing a darn good job!


Suddenly, the plane begins to buffet. Shake.

Oh no, what have I done? Rattle! Shimmy! Skip!

Dad quietly flips the controls back to his side of the cockpit —

We’ve hit the mountain’s turbulent, unstable air.

Boney Ridge, Malibu

Dad chuckles and reassures me with that

Wonderful big laugh he always gives to Life —

Until his heart gave out, when I was sixteen,

And we buried him.


When Mom, in her shock, sold his saxophones

And his clarinets — sold his beloved Bonanza plane.

Sold the house, moved from Malibu —

And Dad and flight were lost . . .


Until I decided, a decade later, that

I could learn to fly, I would learn —

Like my Father and Grandfather

Before me — Palomar Airport.

Here I am, third generation pilot, with a Piper Tomahawk. (My Mom shot this pic.)

Here I am, third generation pilot, with a Piper Tomahawk. (My Mom shot this pic.)

I worked hard. Got my fixed-wing license in just three months.

Moved to San Luis Obispo — and for the next two years, rented planes and

Flew nearly 300 California hours in Cessnas, Warriors, Tomahawks,

From San Luis, to Van Nuys, to San Diego . . .

Landing Aircraft

Soaring like an Eagle — like a California Condor —

Looking down on emerald ocean inlets over Laguna,

Grassy farmlands with cattle tracks leading to

Water troughs in the Central Valley —

Snow on top of the Grapevine

Sugar-coated mountains over the Grapevine,

Sprinkled with a fresh coating of snow.

Talking to the tower, checking my altimeter,

Flying my craft with precision and pride, like all pilots . . .

Ready to Roll

Joining the ranks of those before — and after me,

Daring enough to take to the sky.

Dad and Grandfather,

Charlie, and Joe, and Mack . . .

Hawaiian Skies


Return to Malibu, 1980s

Returning to Malibu, back to when my kids were small

I’m out with the horses  and I hear . . .

Looking up, I see . . . Circling Sandstone Peak

Charlie, Joe . . .  wait a minute  just two planes now.

Malibu's Mountains -- Boney Ridge

“Hey Charlie, Joe, how’s it going up there?”

I point. I wave. I cry. My kids, so little,

They don’t know  can’t know why?

Something must have happened to Mack!


Emotions rise within me. Memories of my flying days — of

Dad and Grandfather — come racing back . . .

“Is Mack OK? Is his family doing well?”

Tears well up in my eyes.


We saw Charlie and Joe fly over a few more times — but never again with Mack.

Then we moved from the mountains, closer to the beach.

And throughout the years I’ve wondered the fate of my

VariEze, ace flying friends . . .


Red Acrobatic Pland


Island of Oahu, 2010

Now, two decades later, I listen to the roar of an

Acrobatic aircraft, practicing stunts —

Engine cranking, climbing . . . then fading, falling, spinning,

Here over Hawaii’s Lani Kai Beach.


And I think of Charlie, and Joe, and good ‘ol Mack,

And I wonder — are they still flying?

Are they soaring like an Eagle

Over the mountains somewhere?

Up in the Air!

Or are they now with Dad,

And Grandfather,

Soaring above the Rainbow —

Smiling each time an airplane flies by.


Running outside, dropping

Everything they’re doing,

Waving their hands wildly —

Welcoming the latest pilot home?

Circular Rainbow –  known as a Glory – made by an airplane when the shadow hit a cloud flying en route Honolulu to Molokai 2014 :))

Circular Rainbow – known as a Glory – made by an airplane when the shadow hit a cloud flying en route Honolulu to Molokai 2014 :))


VariEze Aircraft, Camarillo


Birthday Flight, Camarillo Airport

Yes! I’ve decided, this has to be one of their unusual, VariEze planes.

All these years later. On my Birthday.

The Rainbow Circle has returned to my Life :))

Backyard Rainbow

Emotions rise. Again.

But this time, smiles replace tears.

Yes! I feel them!

Dad and Grandfather — Charlie, Joe and Mack — smiling down on my Happy Birthday, Camarillo-Malibu Mountains, helicopter flying endeavor.

Helicopter in flight

As we rise above the tarmac, amidst the roar of the whirling blades — I think I even hear Dad’s wonderful, heart-felt laugh!


To find out more about Dad and his up-beat Philosophy in Life, go to my post, You Can Do ANYTHING!

Birthday Flight


Like what you’ve read here? Visit Dawn’s sister blog: Soul Horse Ride

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Copyright 2010, 2015


Like what you’ve read here? Please visit Dawn’s sister blog: Soul Horse Ride.

Noir napping :))

Meet ~ Red Star Noir ~ My 11th Newborn Foal!

This post, reprinted here from my sister blog, Soul Horse Ride, describes what I’ve been up to in recent days. I hope you’ll enjoy the story, the legacy, the accomplishment represented here :))  DawnSeeker

Red Star Noir ~ My 11th Newborn Foal!

Ah, the joys of new life!

My mare, Fae’s latest accomplishment: Red Star Noir — entered this world on August 19, 2014 — and as I now count, he’s my eleventh new baby foal!!!

Fae and Noir - first week

My newborn foals:

1 – AA Mentor – 1985

2 – Mentor’s Jewel – 1989

3 – Starboy – 1990

4 – Angel -1991

5 – Fanta’s Sir Prize – 1995

6 – Fanta’s Fae Dancer (aka Fanta’s Dancing Fae ) – 2001

7 – Maverick – 2007

8 – Aria – 2007

9 – Laddie (Aladin’s Bay Star) 2008

10 – Hokuleia – 2012

11 – Red Star Noir – 2014

Wobbly newborn Red Star Noir!


I remember as a kid, some time during junior high, the horse calendar that hung in my room. One month there was a picture of an adorable bay-colored Arabian colt, perhaps just two weeks old.

I remember looking and wishing and marveling at the beauty of his fresh life. I wondered what it would be like to hold him, pet him. Raise him, love him. And I decided: SOMEDAY, I’ll have a baby horse of my own!

I remember wondering: Would I really? How? How could that be possible?

But I tucked that wish away, along with my life-long desire to have, ride and love a horse of my very own.

And I went back to living my junior high life. Not knowing if either of those dreams would EVER come true.


Then, completely out of the blue one day, Mom made the announcement, driving alone with her in the car. (I remember it oh so well.  I was thirteen.)

Her voice cracked a little, and she said: “Dad and I have decided to get you a horse.”

What? Really? After all these years of begging??? Wahoooo!!! This is my dream come true!

I ended up with a scruffy unregistered strawberry roan, Heinz 57-Appaloosa/Arab mix named Rebel. Said to be seven years old, he’d been a family’s “trail horse”. He had a long nose, beautiful eyes and a swinging black tail.

Rebel was the perfect first horse for me. Rugged, rank — he challenged my limited skills and fulfilled my endless horse-addiction.

He became the focal point of my existence.

Rebel got me through the tough times, the lonely times, of junior high and high school. I LIVED for riding Rebel.

Through him I experienced freedom. Riding, flying, through the wilderness on wings of horsey joy.


Then, when I was sixteen, Dad passed away from a heart attack — changing EVERYTHING in my life — one fateful night.

“Honey, things are always changing. The sooner you get used to that, the better off you’ll be.”

Did Dad know something when he told me those words, just weeks before he suddenly passed?

Again, Rebel was my constant. My confidant. My outlet. My sanity. He was my freedom on four fabulously swift legs.

And I turned to him even more after losing Dad.

We would ride the Southern California mountain trails all day, every Saturday, The Doors singing “Come on baby light my fire . . .” from the transistor radio strapped to my saddle. Grit in my teeth, smile on my face, on and on and on, as far as we could go.

Yet after finishing high school, I began wondering about the reason for life.

What am I to do with my life? Why are we here? Where do we go after we leave this green Earth? Where is Dad now?

I dropped out of University and did what I’d often dreamed I’d do. I rode Rebel into the California wilderness on a ten-day, soul-searching, solo trek. Just me and Rebel.



My time alone in the wilderness toughened my determination. I overcame many obstacles, completing my “hero’s quest”, and I came back into civilization with new resolve.

I will live my life to the fullest. I will live as close to Nature as possible. I will pursue all my dreams!

Following my love for horses and animals, I worked teaching horseback riding, then milking cows on commercial dairy farms.

I chopped down trees, sewed canvass, built a Sioux Indian Tipi — and lived in it — as close to Nature as I could be!

Rebel lived outside the Tipi in the pasture with me, only a sheet of canvass between us.

Those were awesome times, living on the Earth, literally! With horses and cattle surrounding me. Until, eventually, Rebel aged and passed away.

Afterwards I had a brief stint with another horse, an Arabian mare I called Stargirl. But she met with tragedy, and I was horseless for a number of my mid-twenties years.

Eventually I went back to college, learned to fly airplanes, and started my own fashion business.


Now, I was in position to own a horse again!

So in 1980, I bought an Appaloosa yearling mare, named Fanta (Smokey Joe’s Fanta).

Little did I know when I was outbid on the original mare I’d come to buy at auction that day, that the understated roan filly I ended up purchasing would continue her legacy in my life — some three decades later!

(I definitely ended up with the better horse!)

Fanta’s combination of Appaloosa, Running Quarter Horse, Racing Thoroughbred, and (1/4th) Arabian gave her speed, endurance and silky-smooth gaits.

Her BIG trot, bounding canter, and animated walk made her a pleasure to ride.

After deciding to train her myself, and spending the next several years researching and accomplishing the task, I also ended up purchasing a purebred (in-foal) Arabian mare who soon gave birth to a beautiful, intelligent bay colt: AA Mentor.

I got my baby horse after all!

Under the lamplight, in the sweet smell of straw, breathing his fresh newborn scent, my baby horse dreams came true. Singing, cooing, rubbing his soft fur, I’d whisper of how we’d ride together, fly together — him carrying me, into the mountains, by the sea, over endless rolling hills . . . the wind rushing through our hair.

Holding him in my lap, Mentor filled my heart with not just love, but fresh purpose and perspective. Here was new life for a new future. A new portal to magical adventures ahead!

Although Fanta was six when Mentor was born, it was love at first whinny — and despite their difference in age, they became life-long mates.


Soon after Mentor’s birth, my life went through big changes. I, too, gave birth to my own baby girl, and then another . . .

And Fanta gave birth to Mentor’s babies, and she and I ended up raising our offspring together — horses and humans bonded like siblings.

I got another Tipi, living again on the Earth, with my babies, with my horses — even Nubian milk goats. Once again, close to Nature.

Completely magical!

Little kids and little baby horses romping, bucking, playing dress-up — inventing their own language, games, rules. My kids and Fanta’s — exploring life. Growing up side-by-side.

Eventually my kids grew taller, the horses matured, and we’d all ride together — wild rides through the wilderness. Horses and humans of the same herd — bonded, it would turn out, for generations yet unborn . . .

Noir - under Mom's tail


So now, long after my kids have moved out, long after Fanta and Mentor have passed — a new life enters my herd: Red Star Noir!

And get this — the timing, the beyond-coincidence planning of the Cosmos — born just three days after my first grandchild was born. :))

Oh Fanta, you and I, raising babies together again!

This one, yet another grand-colt. Born within days of my grand-daughter.

And we welcome you, Star Noir, to our family. To our herd.

And how sweet, how smart your half-Arabian nature. (Noir’s sire, an endurance Arabian.)

And now, once again,  I snuggle you. I breathe in your fresh baby scent . . . rub your fur, scratch your favorite itch spots. And I whisper sweet images of us riding together, flying together — you carrying me, like Fanta and Mentor before.

Nursing Noir


Long live Fanta’s legacy!

Long live Red Star Noir!

My lucky number 11!

One of the sweetest foals of my life thus far!

Noir itch


Copyright 2014

Looking Glasses

My Miracle Book

Here’s a Strategy I’ve been working with that’s helped me throughout the past several years — I call it My Miracle Book. Read along, and discover that you, too, have a Miracle Book to write.

Pull your Miracle Book out when the going gets tough — and read it over for fresh inspiration, motivation and a boost in faith.


Half Empty or Half Full?

It seems much of our experience in Life depends upon on our own unique, day-to-day perspective.

Are our lives half empty — or 98% full?

My artist friend, Tina, refers to our individual vantage-point in Life as wearing “Perspectacles” — a combination of perspective and spectacles. (She then draws a little pair of eye glasses illustrating the point :))

After all, we each see Life through our own unique viewing window.

And we all want to know: Will my Life work out? Will I make it? Can I find work, buy food, pay my bills, gas my car, keep my home and fulfill my obligations?

Recently it seems these necessities press even harder. And because of these great needs, because of long-term stresses, our minds can seem ready to snap . . .

We do our best.

We trust God.

We pray.

But in our moments of fear and doubt, our oh-my-gosh moments of true need — the car just broke, and I don’t have the money to pay for it — how do we know that God’s really here for us?

How do we bolster our faith?


Proof of God and Goodness in My Life

A few years back at a time like this, while asking myself these types of questions, I pushed — and demanded — proof of God and His goodness in my Life.

And I came up with the little journal that I now call: My Miracle Book.

It’s oh so easy to blame my troubles on a tight job market, on the economy, on my age or stage in life — yet half of Life is how I deal with what I’m dealt — how I control my obsessive mind which clings to negative circumstance and, like an endless loop, won’t let go.

In this instance, my mind just refused to cut me slack. And it got me thinking: I work with horses, and I know how to deal with them.

Yet what about my brain’s deadlocks, fears? How do I control this beast within?

So I decided, in searching for a Strategy — why not treat my panicky brain like an animal, like a horse?


Whoever Moves the Other Guy, Wins

In the animal world, it’s all about dominance.

With horses: “Whoever moves the other guy, wins.”

Whoever causes the other to lose ground and keep on the run, retains the upper hand.

Could it be, like the horse, these rules are ingrained deep into our brains, into our primal reptilian core?

If my brain moves me — my being, my emotions — into panic and fear: I lose.

If I move the brain, my brain — quiet it, flex it, make it lick, pivot, back down, like the horse: I win!!

Why not take control of that demonic stronghold that causes panic and fear in my Life — and let God, goodness, take the lead — and win!


Writing The Book

So I began My Miracle Book journal by writing the following:

“How do I know God’s real? Where’s my proof — since all my Life depends on this fact.”

* And I set out to supply my fearful mind with unshakable proof — examples of the miracles I’ve already received in Life. So that I could move my little frightened mind, and get it to yield to the Greater Good.

* I began by remembering a years-ago near-miss car accident (there seemed no way to avoid it). And I wrote a paragraph about that. Surely, that was a miracle. I didn’t die, didn’t get hurt, didn’t lose my income. Instead, the truck careening towards me somehow missed!!!

* And how about my children, and my husband, and the miracles they are in my Life.

* The legacy I received from Grandma and Mom and Dad, and all the goodness they taught and lived.

* My horses, my amazing Life adventures. Flying airplanes, travel, our beautiful home.

* And I realized there were other times I could have crashed, could have died — but was spared. And I wrote a bullet point and paragraph about each of those incidents: Horse accidents, carriage wrecks, hiking, cycling. Lightning strikes, falls, ocean incidents, more car accidents . . .

* Then I remembered times of healing and health miracles, both for myself and family members, and wrote them out.

* And financial miracles!!! Times of need when I received provision by completely unexpected means.

So I wrote and I wrote . . . fourteen pages of miracles, and I’ve been adding more, ever since.


My Conclusion

And after those first fourteen pages, I read them over, and wrote the following conclusion:

WOW!! I left more room for more stories — and I’m sure I’ll need even more room to tell ALL the proof I have that God is Real! And that is the only question I need to answer. Because if God is REAL, than I have all His promise for me, and NOTHING to fear. All shall truly work out! And He shall direct my path!!

* I know God is Real

* God talks to me

* God protects me (and those I love)

*God guides me

*God provides for me

* God heals me

* God reveals things to me

*God makes all things good!!

*God answers prayer

*God is on my side


But What, you might ask, about the Bad Things?

I have learned that All things work together for good — the good and the bad. And many of my testimonies of how God works miracles in my Life include seemingly bad things that ultimately work together for good.

Please see my post: The Assignment, Guide to Greater Happiness and be sure to read My Yoda Story.


More Miracles

Then, as time went on, I thought of more and more miracles: Synchronicities. Revelations. Intuition. Dreams. Visions. Near-misses. Manifestations.

* So I wrote bullet points and paragraphs about each new one I remembered.

* And then even more miraculous things and incidents came to mind.

* And now I realize, they are all around me! Big miracles. Small ones.

* And my gratitude has increased, and my faith has rebounded!

* And My Miracle Book is nearly full. And I know I’ll start another after this.

* And I look for miracles now. And I expect them.

* And I thank God for them, even before they have happened.

* And in time of need, I write my affirmation of thanks, and know that He shall provide for me.

* And He ALWAYS DOES provide the miracle!


Your Miracle Book

So now go and find yourself a pretty little blank journal.

Title it: My Miracle Book.

And start: Thinking.




And discover the rich miracles your Life contains.

Come to your own conclusions.

And then I hope you’ll let me know about the string of miracles your Life has become :))


Definition: Miracle


Date: 12th century
Etymology: Middle English, from Anglo-French, from Late Latin miraculum, from Latin, a wonder,
marvel, from mirari to wonder at
  • an extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs
  • a extremely outstanding or unusual event, thing, or accomplishment
  • Christian Science: a divinely natural phenomenon experienced humanly as the fulfillment of spiritual law

From print version Webster Dictionary, Copyright 1956:

  • an event or action that apparently contradicts known scientific laws and is hence thought to be due to supernatural causes, especially to an act of God
  • a remarkable event or thing; marvel
  • a wonderful example: as he is a miracle of fortitude


Final Thoughts

So I’m going with the ‘remarkable event or thing’ definition. And I’m in with the ‘all Life’s a miracle’ sentiment.

And the biggest surprise in writing My Miracle Book has been discovering that I cannot ever stop — the book is never truly done — because all of Life contains miracles, and all the miracles seem somehow connected.

Linked together.

And talking about one brings up another whole set of miracles.

And remembering them bolsters my faith.

And quiets my fearful mind!

Thank God!

:)) DawnSeeker :))

Tropical Reflections


Like what you’ve read here? Visit Dawn’s sister blog: Soul Horse Ride

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…/< >\ …/< >\ …/< >\


Copyright 2014

White Horse in Green

You Gotta Wanna

I’ve been reflecting a lot on my Grandmother these days, as my daughter expects her first child, and I’m preparing to move into the first-time Grandmother role.

Through her wisdom and calm demeanor, Grandma Warby instilled values and confidence in me even beyond what my parents could. Let’s hope I succeed in carrying the tradition on :))


You Gotta Wanna 

Grandma had a saying

I still can hear her tell:

Talent alone won’t make you great,

But an inner quality will.

Holiday at Grandma's

She said: You gotta wanna,

What ‘ere you do in life —

And that your burning passion 

Overcomes obstacles and strife.

Hula Cousins

My Dad was a musician,

I thought I’d be one too.

But then I found I didn’t want

It bad enough, thank you!

That's me with my Breyer plastic horses in Grandma's back yard

That’s me with my Breyer plastic horses in Grandma’s back yard

My very first love was horses —

They filled my heart with joy.

I thought about them day and night

As if a favorite toy.


Whenever we’d drive by one,

I’d get all excited and shout:

“Oh mommy, there’s a horsey!”

My sisters wanted to throw me out!

Pink Horse

I day-dreamed during lunchtime

At junior high each day —

And finally my dad and mom

Got me a horse: Hurray!!!

Side Saddle (watermark)

So what do you s’pose I do in life?

I work with them each day.

Lots and lots of horses —

Chestnuts, grays and bays.

Shoeing Gear

I nail on the horseshoes.

I trim up the toes.

I make sure they’re balanced to

Stride their best where ‘ere they go.

Soul Horse Riding

And now all these years later,

What Grandma said holds true.

You really gotta wanna

For your dreams to come to you!

Self-shadow shot


Like what you’ve read here? Visit Dawn’s sister blog: Soul Horse Ride

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Copyright 2014

(Vintage family photographs courtesy of cousin Andy)