Power of intention and the Mary Poppins factor

I became aware of the power of intention sometime in my early forties. And I also learned that when you ask the universe for something, watch out...and be specific.

I've been so caught up in the details of getting the property on the market, that for a few days of time I lost my own power, my own understanding that my intentions are valid and will be demonstrated, if I truly intend them. And I do.

I sat down and painted this scene, where it is... I don't know...yet, but it is there. There might be slight differences in the final property we find in Maine, but it is a rendition of what my heart is pulling for now-maybe slightly less land or land that is laid out in a simpler way for us–an outbuilding that does not involve putting every darn little Misfit and White Dog away in a stall so I can drive my feed in-and Martyn can unload wood and other things without this issue. You learn a lot after living on a farm for 12 years, what you might want to change or tweak. Will it have a red door? Possibly not, but like the house I found in Portland when I moved from Minneapolis, it will cry out to have me paint the door red.

Last night we watched the original version of "Mary Poppins". I just loved it. I so remember watching it in the big theater as a six year old. I sang along to every song last night, gleefully, and still got verklempt when "Feed the Birds" came on. But what was so wonderful for me last night was the scene where the two little children write a letter to the perfect nanny they knew was out there, and they sing the letter out loud to their parents. Mr. Banks, the way to practical father, rips the letter up as nonsense, and tosses it in the fireplace. A day later, he puts an ad in the paper for a nanny, and the prospective nannies begin lining up outside the house. And then, a strong wind blows in and all the nannies are blown away by some force-and Mary Poppins floats down from the sky and into the house. She hands Mr. Banks the letter he had torn up and burned, and it has mysteriously been seamed back together again.

Well, that scene was my gift of the day! I realized I hadn't been firm enough, hadn't composed my intentions enough for a new buyer for our property here. And I will do this, I will write it and then I will sing it out loud to the skies, and burn it up.

And we shall continue on.