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MAP of how to find the inner ‘I’ in our earthly life-storms


This drawing of mine above is an easy-to-follow visual map how to get out of the inner confused state many are feeling today, and I’ve experienced, too. Here’s my depiction of the horrors that confusion can proclaim within us, instead of the calm of this ‘I’ I’m talking about today.

ugliness ... why listen? why look? why watch?

the conflicting times of pre-election are upon us!

During this tumultuous time, when everyone is freaked out about the presidential circus (oh! I’m sorry, I meant to say … race) I’m watching so many others either pull their hair out … or claim they’re not voting. This is the time to engage in controversy. Now is the time to — get it all out! And afterwards, when the election votes are all counted — accept what the people have chosen.

We are blessed to live in a democratic country.

To me, a citizen who is born in America (or has become legally eligible since immigrating) MUST vote. I’ve tried running away from this moral and social responsibility. And it backfired. Good for the books I’m writing, but … no longer my MO. We on the spiritual path know that our voice, our vote, counts. If you think otherwise, please reconsider.

Who to vote for MUST be from the deepest part of ourselves. Our conscience (another of the thousands of words for Spirit). Not our pocketbooks, not our friends’ opinions mattering — but what our inside self, our gut, our ‘I’ as I call it (it has many names) tells us to do. This is what must dictate how and for whom we vote.

This ‘I’ within each of us is also called “Better-me” as opposed to “Lesser-me”. I use that term in my soon-to-be published nonfiction book (now with a fabulous literary agent) about the journey of my own blended-family. But for LordFlea’s sharing today I’m calling this source of inner wisdom we all have, by it’s quick and easy nickname, the ‘I’ within.

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How our inner ‘I’ works in our daily life

Just as in Nature’s worst tempests flung at planet Earth, the hurricanes and the cyclones, each storm has its own calm inner space. True! Within the very worst situation, is a place of peace, when we learn to tap that inner ‘I’. So too for the confusion and fear within humans. No matter how conflicted, how confused, how torn-apart we may feel — there is a place of calm, deep and peaceful, within each one of us.

This place can be reached by anyone, anywhere. How? Through meditative practices. Start by following your breath. Look at the special instructions I have here on my blog. The search for what you want is easy — it’s right within you!

So — when I approach the voting booth this November, I won’t be freaked out. I won’t be not-voting either. I’ll remember to touch base with that inner space within, and ask it “For Whom shall I vote?”

The answer will be obvious.

Meditation is listening (to God, our Higher Self, etc.). Prayer is talking.

Your vote counts! Don’t sweat it right now. We have months of chaos and turmoil right now. This period here, filled with controversy, smut-throwing, name-calling, opinion-biasing, lies, omissions, dirty games and laundering of endless woefulness-es — is all part of the political process. Politics is nothing but a cluster f–k!

I have no advice to give, except — vote!


One Heart united, our family of humankind

After having lived abroad for a long period of time, I am now, as I wasn’t before leaving my country, grateful and proud to be an American. Our democratic process is by far the best. If you don’t think so, go try living somewhere where it’s not the way of governance. Spend some time behind bars (as I sadly had to) because you’ve been mistakenly pointed out as an enemy of the State. Just for breathing in the wrong place at the wrong time. Then you’ll agree with me:


God Bless America!

God Bless the people’s choice to be our next leader.

Your pal who loves you,

teZa aka LordFlea

Compassion HEALS All Wounds


The past couple weeks has seen much turmoil in my country, the USA. I’ve barely been able to crack a newspaper or a news site without shedding a tear, or at least bucking up, getting ready to feel more pain. Everyone I know is reeling from the violence in our nation. People want to blame. Blame Trump, Blame Obama, Blame Bush, Blame Blame Blame.

My response to anyone who says this to me is, “If there’s anything to blame, in my opinion it’s the way Hollywood and TV depict violence, with such randomness and regularity that we’ve all become inured to it. Violence just doesn’t seem real anymore, unless we become its personal victim.”

And now — most of us are feeling as violated as the victims. True, we’re not dead. We can still breathe. Yet our entire nation, and much of the so-called civilized world, is suffering from a soul-sickness in which violence and fear are on everyone’s mind. And people who see this as just an American problem, they are not as aware, or in denial of the prevalence of the growing trend of violence in our entertainment world.

There is no one thing or one person to blame.

If a friend or random person to whom I addressed my “violence in entertainment” opinion (usually following their more political rant) still wants to talk (most just turn away from me, only wanting a head to chop, a name to blame, a face to spit upon! not a rational conversation) I would then offer what I’m ready to state here, in my public forum.

Our Blended Family

United, we have STRENGTH!

I named my spiritual blog Lord Flea Sings because I always meant for it to be a place where all of us who care to join in, can sing a song of Love. Sing, as in state our case with joy, with strength, with clear notes, with rhythms that MOVE us. Just like the calypso singer, Lord Flea for whom this blog is named in honor of. So … if you want to join in the discussion, please do. I am curious to hear your point of view. Leave comments below and I’ll respond.

My sense is that the world is in the midst of a huge sea change.

We are at the crossroads of our moral evolution. The computer age has accelerated our growth so much, that … old norms just don’t work for us as well as they used to. Coming from a place of extreme materialism (for decades, since the industrial revolution at the turn of the nineteenth into the twentieth century) humankind is quickly stepping into a new era  … the spiritualization of our entire race. One person at a time, it’s been happening for ages. Now personal transformations are happening at a much more accelerated pace, in part, due to the outrage of every human heart that is reacting to the calamities that are happening everyday around us, pushing us to change.

Anger and fear and melt downs are catalysts to change. We who experience these things must change inside, or else we suffer horribly. Some even commit suicide, not able to contend with the insanity of the world. Some retreat into drugs, alcohol, denial, numbing themselves with whatever they can get their hands on. Others — like you and me, certainly anyone reading this — realize that pain is a way that Nature (aka God) has of forcing us to change.

Yes, our world has become more violent. Yes, people are not feeling safe. Yes, the African-Americans of America are sick of being treated with disrespect. Yes, the good Muslims must help herd in the bad Muslims. Yes, most everybody realizes that something has to change in order to make our world a better, safer, more viable place to live. It used to be people were scared of an enemy, like some still are of radical fundamentalism of any sort (evil is color blind and non-discriminatory in regards to race, religion, origins or politics). But now … we have a strain of discontent that doesn’t even have a name, although people are pouring out on the streets in scores this week to bring attention to “Black Lives Matter.” The latest of the unspeakable signs of our society’s silent sickness: Intolerance

To me, the real issue is that ALL lives matter, not just a certain group. Of course I feel for my black brothers and sisters. For years I was one of a handful of whites who lived on an all-black island nation. I know first-hand what it feels like to be singled out, treated differently because of the color of my skin. Even accused of crimes I didn’t commit, because of my race. I’ve been thrown in jail because of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and have had to fight for my own survival because I wasn’t like all the rest. I know what it’s like to be unfairly treated. I know how upsetting it is and agree that change is what’s called for.

But to my mind there is more to this issue of intolerance (of any kind) than what meets the eye.

united in our cause to make a difference--one person at a time

The Sacredness of ALL LIFE

It really is about ALL Lives mattering. Life itself. All in existence, from the smallest snail to the largest lunar spot, everything in this multiVerse is sacred. But yet there are the masses who still believe life on Earth is a silly game of power, prestige, and who rules who, and who gets to sit on the throne and who gets to shine whoever-is-in-power’s lowly shoes. It may be the final chapter of our color-story in the limelight today (although in the USA with our mixed-race President I don’t see how our black people can’t see the vast improvements since the desegregation of our country, in the sixties). But who and what-kind of person(s) is in power today will change tomorrow, for sure. Power people come and go. What really needs to be changed is something much more basic.

The only really worthwhile change I see that can come out of the current tragedies of black men and women being gunned down, forcibly held, dying in police presence or custody, and the ensuing hatred like the (black) sniper who aimed at (white) police people (how could he really tell with their helmets on?) are all indicators of how much more work we have to do, as a nation of people, not divided by race, religion or any other factors — to accept each and every person as what every single one of us is: a sacred being.

Whether a person acts or even thinks they are sacred, depends on how aware each of us is about our true nature. The more people who make it their pleasure, their personal quest, to become as aware and awake as possible, the more our society gets influenced by so-and-so’s positive energy, instead of barraged by the negative energy that causes more mishaps and tragedies, which then sells more papers, clicks, air time, and catches the attention of greedy Hollywood vampires.

People love to be scared. Look at the crowds at roller-coaster parks. Without fear and vomit-producing twists and turns, lots of people think life is pretty dull. So the drama that unfolds in our real life, on real streets, in real gay nightclubs, and real Bible study classes, and real traffic stops by trigger-happy cops are now re-enacting the thrills that are innately a part of our thus-far-evolved human experience. Most of us love thrills! We love drama. We love … to be scared to death!

Personally, as an artist who writes, I don’t think the censor laws will ever go backward from where they are today. We’ve fought too hard to have the freedom of expression that has become the modern way. And I know for a fact that it was artists (in Lithuania) that singlehandedly started the internal revolution that brought down the Soviet bloc. Creative censorship is considered unAmerican. Un-Freedom of Speech. Un-cool. So the guns and bombs and slashings and accompanying rudenesses that go along with all that mind garbage won’t stop. Hollywood loves violence. There will always be a place for trash. But that doesn’t mean we have to fill our own minds with it. Trash, and violent trash especially makes tons of money, pockets are filled from every slaying, and woe to the producer who comes up with a sweet story of spiritual transformation, without a murder or two, ’cause nobody will come to see it in the theaters. Not yet, that is.

True, there are lobbyists who are out in force, trying to get Hollywood to stop making such sex and violence-themed movies, groups like the Dove Foundation and Ted Baehr, who have attempted for years, to great effect, to introduce more family values into the film and entertainment industry. So let’s face it, the cleaning up of America’s entertainment industry, including gyrating, ripped-lace pop and hip hop and gangsta rap singers, ain’t gonna happen. Dirt and shame and taboos are too much a part of our culture to deny.

What we can do is … each and every individual … is to clean up our own act.

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There’s always HOPE

Yup, that’s right. The BIG answer to all this hair-wrenching worry over “Where’s our humanity going?” boils down to “What are you doing about your own life?”

The only thing each of us has power over, is our own individual life, and the choices we make. Of course if we have young children, we’re also responsible for instilling Love and Inner Peace in their own life quests, and prepare them, best we can, for the world that’s outside the comfortable nest we all want to make for ourselves, for our family.

Take a look around you. Are you doing enough? Is your inner life as peaceful as you’d like? Are you able to read today’s news without getting freaked out? Can you see as many positive things happening in the world as there are negatives?

If you’ve assessed your own life, and feel you want more inner peace, more happiness, more joy–then take some action, my friend. There are so many things anyone can do, in this day of YouTube’s abundant offerings from mindfulness teachers (Eckhart Tolle, Depak Chopra, Thich Nhat Hanh, Marianne Williamson, to name just a few of my favorites). If you are unhappy with the state of the world, you can join a prayer or protest group, click on an instructional video and learn to calm your fears, or … go take a walk and look up at the clouds and let go of angry thoughts that you’ve let rule your life.

We don’t have to let heinous actions of others ruin our own lives. We can choose what we do with the strong feelings that injustices evoke in each and every human heart.

That’s the remedy I do when I feel powerless over another’s violent and scary actions. I breathe. I do yoga, meditate, take a swim in the sea, go for a bike ride … garden in my yard, talk with other mindful folks. Anything but go deeper in that feeling of powerlessness. Because I DO have power — over my own self! And I can take action to remedy the severe sadness that each and every intolerant act of one human upon another brings to my consciousness. The action might be … to take no action other than to pray, to meditate, to focus anger into tolerance. That’s a very high form of action.

I don’t deny the hurt. I don’t try to brush it off as “not my problem.” It is a human problem we are all facing. To me the answer, the pivot upon which change revolves, lies within each of our own hearts. To be as true as we can to what we really are, this is the spiritual challenge of today’s scary world. We are all pure spirits wearing a human body … for just a little while longer.

Let’s make the most of what time we’ve got here. Let’s make a difference, and let’s celebrate Love. By focusing on love, acceptance, tolerance, we increase the power of Love all around us. It’s like spreading an atomizing of Love cells wherever we go. Love is a consciousness, not just a verb. Love is a way of life, not just a saying. I have made it a pledge to live from love, not fear. With each day, I renew my pledge. I believe in Love.

I wish I could say the same for the political process, or the power of government to help change society, truly, at its core. I don’t believe governments or political parties have that kind of power. The power of true transformation only comes from the human spirit. I believe it comes from our core, from each of our heart (not the brain necessarily, although that comes in handy when it comes to taking action). The heart of each human being is where we feel the connection of Love. I feel it for everything and everyone.

One Life---each of ours, amounting to the total of all our decisions

the currency of LOVE … our life!

Maybe someday we will have enlightened Hollywood directors and producers who come from their opened hearts and minds, but for now (believe me, I know, I have a close relative who’s in the Hollywood game) money rules. Wherever the money comes from, that’s where Hollywood’s decisions go. Until enlightened artists transform our tastes … violence and sex are still a lot more entertaining (but not forever) so tolerate unscrupulous images and blood-gushing stories will keep coming to our screens. Just don’t watch them and they will … in time … go away.

Just turn off your mind, your screen clicked off to those kinds of choices. Open your screen as you do your heart and mind. Explore the endless possibilities of … an awakened life. It truly is the best show on earth!

we are ONE

lifting ourselves UP UP UP!




Some of you may have noticed I’ve started sending out little sayings I make up. This is my new effort to be the spiritual activist I say I am. What else can I do? Well, like the heading of this post says, I choose to THINK positive thoughts, even in face of such dire circumstances as the world faces today.

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Every ACTION begins with a THOUGHT. Watch yourself!

I recently met a new person who is very seriously worried, fretfully so, about the terrible news she sees everyday on the News. I asked her, “Why do you watch so much News then, if it causes you such anxiety?” Quickly I added “I scan the news on my New York Times app everyday, and read deeply where applicable, but I don’t saturate myself in TV news that’s so sensational and negatively-slanted. No way Jose!”

To which my friend answered, “What else can I do? I have to know about the horror.”

I softly shared the same to her as I’m sharing with you here today:

Choose to guard what goes into our thoughts. Cherish your own, individual consciousness, like the most prized possession it is. If we hold negative, fearful thoughts, all we’re doing is contributing more negativity and fear-charged energy in the world. Even if I think I’m a good person, with a good heart, and have tons of compassion, IF I CHOOSE to think fear-filled thoughts, I’m only adding to the world’s dilemmas. Nothing gets resolved from worry. Nothing gets reversed by being scared. Nothing changes … unless something changes.

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Believe this female figure is … the SEA! She changed! You can, too.

For me, the biggest step I made in my life — from the darkness of living in fear to the exultant Light of living-believing in innate goodness (even in the face of horror!) — was to realize it all begins with ME CHOOSING what thoughts I cultivate.

Surely, we all know how difficult it is to Watch Our own Self. We’re so used to watching everything else under the sun, and now beyond the great disk in the sky, in this age of SpaceX and Space Stations and Mars, all held within our celestial sights. Here though, what I’m talking about is the inner voyage, the inner adventure, the inner love-affair we all get to have — with our own better selves. The best news there is. And it’s true news, not slanted, fabricated, or sensationalized. Just get to know your thoughts, and become your new best friend. You’ll “see.”

To cultivate a higher, happier, and more benevolent consciousness: watch your thoughts. And change them when they go … bad, scary, weird. Stay centered in Love, instead.

We can choose to live with a Love-bias instead of settling for a suspicious or victimized, or fear-based existence. How? By watching our thoughts. It’s That Simple. And when we notice that we’re holding any negative thought, such as the new friend I mentioned above, who got her wide-eyed terrorized, deer-in-headlights fright-look from watching (and believing) too much TV and Internet news — we can instead choose to send out a simple phrase such as: I believe in Love; I trust Spirit, I sense the union with All.

I am … Love. Spirit. One with All.

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Dive into the tunnel of Love, the wormhole to happiness

These days, after going through a big trauma recently (LordFlea’s past posts) I notice I am humming. Nothing wrong with that. But it’s not a sweet cheerful kind of hum, but an almost blaringly tuba-like imposing, deeply off-tone kind of hum I’ve never noticed about me before. (I’ve been a hummer since childhood.) I mentioned this to another friend last night and she suggested, “Perhaps that’s your way of comforting yourself.” She knew what a hard time I’ve had lately in my own life (past posts).

And you know what? She’s right! The thing is, though, is that kind of humming really disturbs me. It puts me into an agitated state and I don’t like it. It’s not at all comforting. And I want to stop it. So whenever I’ve been noticing the new, forceful tuba-hum  (since I lost my mom, 3 months ago) I quickly say to myself, “Oh, there’s that weird inner-sound that’s so annoying, going on again. It’s time to reconnect with my silent mantra now.”

And I do. My mantra is very comforting, and as soon as I substitute my long-used Sanskrit mantra, that forceful agitated humming — completely stops! Right on its last note.

It’s quite miraculous how this “Self-Awareness” thing works. If I wasn’t aware of what thought, or hummin’ I was doin’, I’d never be able to change it. Now would I? I’d just get more and more agitated. So … I don’t think my friend’s observation was completely accurate. Whatever the annoying hum is … God knows, not me. I don’t wanna know, really. I just want it to go away.

So everything begins with awareness.

I hope this helps whoever reads my sharing. Let me know. I love you, LordFlea aka teZa Lord

I’m baaa-ack!

Yes, after a months’ long hiatus (regular readers know why, and new readers can scroll to last few posts) I’m back and with a new, better, all-purpose vengeance.

More fun! More laughter! More trust in the magic!

Just to prove my sincerity about lightening up, here’s one of my own interpretations of that:

008Okay, so that’s not exactly a self-portrait —

but it certainly could be! I see myself in that adorable face, even though it’s made from an old cow bone, this face with its shell-y eyes and hair still shines with beauty, intrigue, a tad of mystery. And lots of class, if you ask me.

It just goes to show you that everything can be interpreted either from one’s serious, heavier, decidedly darker side — or — depending on how we look at things, we can see the same exact thing as absolutely wonderful. Proving: there is good in everything. Even what others call “bad” or shit or awful, and even, gulp, evil.

Like, where would we be without all the nasty violent storms sent by Nature? And just think, where would we be if the meteor event hadn’t wiped out human-devouring (potentially) dinosaurs? Our world would have evolved completely differently. Random happenings decide how things go, for centuries, eons, a whoppin’ long time in the future. That’s why I firmly believe that nothing is an accident. Yet everything depends on how we look at things. Whether we judge, and used such words a “good” or “bad.”

land and sea, air and you and me--we are ONE

land and sea, air and you and me–we are ONE

This drawing (from an old notebook of mine) is an example. I drew it horizontally, but now that I’ve placed it here in this post (quite “accidentally” without knowing what image I clicked on) in the vertical format, it actually makes much more sense to me. Really. As a composition, and as an idea. Horizontally, the female figure looks “asleep.” Here, vertially, she looks like she’s “praying.” Completely different, right? Who can tell which way something is supposed “to go” anyway? Like we have any control over anything other than ourselves. Which, by the way, in case you haven’t figured it out yet — we don’t have control over anything or anyone else than our own lives.

So please keep coming back and checking in now and then and let me know if you notice the changes I’ve set up for myself to embark upon. After going through quite a traumatic time in my life (past posts, remember) I have taken stock of myself and this is what I’ve decided:

  • Life is too short to fret the awfuls
  • As long as I keep trying, I want to have fun, in everything I do
  • Even facing awful times and worrisome challenges, a light heart is the answer
  • My humor button got turned off, not accidentally but quite on purpose
  • Serious topics are best disseminated from a light-hearted messenger

I’ve made a (non-serious, totally laughingly) vow to myself to Lighten UP!

Here’s one way I can do it:

IMG_5994-1after nearly getting myself killed by this huge Bookmobile (a year ago) I am now laughing in the face of death, fastening my funny-bone into its metaphorical seatbelt, and am now ready to do some hardcore ironic parodies, instead of the too-serious tendency I was before. At times. Other times, I could laugh at myself. But I’m getting better now, honest.

How can I achieve this?

Well, I do believe I can best change by approaching humor just like some do learning how to cook awesomely, or make a quilt, or rebuild an engine. By deciding what I want to next and doing something about becoming better at it. Bit by bit. Light ray by ray. Like the sax I have hanging around waiting for me to blow in a little more than I have been. This last year I’ve been too busy developing my embouchare (the rarely-used muscles around the mouth) and not enough holding my nose, and Jump IN! and, just Blow! for pete’s sake, just do it!

Too much worrying, preparing, over-analyzing doesn’t lend itself to being light-hearted. Not that I was ever worried about being a halfway decent sax player, or not, other things have popped up to bother me. Like whether my agent is going to sell the book I’ve been working on for a zillion years, or our family court case wins in August, or what knucklehead wins this carnival of an election. No more worries. I’m with you! Let’s lighten up, together!

Now that I”m back to posting here  I’m also about to plunge in and become a super-whiz on social media, just in case the agent runs into a snag with my weird and wonderful book she’s shopping around. I desperately want the world to read my ideas. Oops, there I go again! Lighten-up, will ya, teZa!

Lots of love from your renewed lightly, Lordflea

mom Eve in Iceland grovin' on the Bakaloa

mom Eve in Iceland (she’s 93, in 2012) groovin’ on the bakaloa (drying codfish)

A word about loss: It happens.

Even though we think we’re prepared, when the death of a close loved one occurs, we’re never actually ready to give that person up entirely, not entirely. Even though we may tell ourselves that that is soon to come, over and over, or how glad we’ll be that that person is no longer suffering, or how much better off they’ll be, somewhere else than here–the bottom line is that human love forms intricate web-like weavings in our hearts that, when yanked out and away, hurt like hell no matter how well we think we’re prepared for the end of someone’s life on earth.

That’s the beginning of the period called grief. And there’s no remedy for it except–let it happen. How long or how much it happens, depends on each of our spiritual well-being, and is different for each of us. Even spiritual giants grieve. Maybe in a different way than a person who has no firm belief system, but each person, man, woman and child, suffers loss in their own unique way.

Just as love itself is like a wave that washes over us, soothing us, combining us in couples or tribes, empowering us, sometimes knocking us over, yes that, too–when another person goes deep into our heart chambers, memories, melodies, scents, flashes of instances, long or short, good and bad alike get squirreled away in the most intricate of our heart chambers, like storing nuts for a cold winter. So of course it takes time, nothing but time, to heal the heart-and-soul scar left when the person behind all these psychic “nuts” gets yanked away from us.

We may tell ourselves, “She’s in a better place,” but the real truth is our grief is about US, not about the person who’s left us.

So, having thought of myself as one of these proverbial spiritual giants, ha!, I really wasn’t prepared, not at all, for how deeply my loss would feel. Eve Mary, my mother, left the Earth-realm eleven days ago, and only now I’m able to think about her without a huge tidal wave of emotions wells up my eyes, churns my guts, bestirring my mind and telling my comforting beliefs to “Shut the hell up! I miss my mommy!”.

Usually, I’m the one who’s telling a distraught friend how to practice stilling disruptive thoughts, focusing my energies, and laser-tuning my spiritual strengths to the highest positive point on the upliftment-mountain I can possibly dream up.

Naw. The past eleven days have been … deeply sad, deeply relieved, deeply reflective, deeply–deep.

Now that I’m over the worse belly-bawlings and chest-heavings I’ve ever experienced in my life (none ever came close), the kind that ripped open my heart and spilled out my little-girl feelings at the calloused feet of my oh-so-grown-up opinion of how “centered and together” I am about this death-thing (even of my own “Creator” herself, she who carried me in her womb for nine months) now I’m hear to share and admit, and never forget, ever, that yes, I am indeed an ordinary human, just like everyone else.

No matter how spiritually fit we may think we are–we ain’t.

True, I have been an active, gun-clenching solder on the front lines of an active war between life and death, concerning my mother. I’d been in the front trenches, surrounded by the blood and guts, piss and shit and vile bile and poisonous-infectious wastes of watching the slow demise of my super-strong mother go on for the past year and a half. That’s way different than someone far off “hearing” about the troubles someone goes through. I was here, every step of the way, holding mom’s hand. Watching helplessly from the sidelines, from the very beginning of what turned out to be her long drawn-out ordeal, her duel with the grim reaper. A struggle that of course would inevitably terminate with mom’s death, one way or the other, I knew, but what happened was the opposite of sudden. And for me, looking into death’s inevitability has been, besides the certainty about mom’s final outcome, one day, it has been anything other than “normal.”

So now she’s gone. And I’m left with me, my, and mine. My feelings. My life. My close relationship with Mr. Death Himself.


Guardian of the People, mixed media, 27“x60”

Guardian of the People

For the past sixteen months I’ve had little else on my mind except my mom’s miserable new circumstances called “ill health.” My vigorous, do-everything mother, an invalid! Impossible! Yet, miracle of miracle, I managed to finish the book I’d been writing the several years previous to mom’s health crisis (an accidental overdose of her own medications took her first to a hospital spinal-surgery room, then to a nursing home, where she was bedridden from the blood clot that crushed her spine and left her paralyzed). Now my completed book is being shown to publishers by a magnificent literary agent (thank you Universe!) and I am ready to plunge head-first into my next creative project, a trilogy that’s already written, just needing to be edited (which to me is 90% of the writing process itself).

But this post isn’t about mom’s death. That’s too … profoundly sad for here. Indeed, it will probably take me years to process all that I went through helping my mom to cross over from an independent woman’s thoroughly satisfying life to … the other side. No, this is about RE-BIRTH. Maybe Mom’s (because, as a good pagan-mama, a Lithuanian-Catholic who traditionally (and often) announced what she’d like to come back as in her next lifetime, Mom told me on many occasions that she thought coming back as an oak tree suited her, comforted her even. But no, here I’m talking about MY re-birth, as I re-group, renewed, refreshed, re-invigorated, feeling stunned to have survived having been to the frightening maws of another person’s death … and realizing I have the strength and the will to come back with the message I’d received while helping my mom.

You see, it fell upon me to walk my mom into the very arms of God.

As one of my friends said, “Ah, I know that your teacher helped you.” I looked her right in the eyes and said, “No. My teacher wasn’t there. I walked Mom to God on my own power.” I didn’t have the heart to honestly tell my friend that the job of one’s teacher is to teach, not to actually live each person’s life for them. I knew my friend meant well. Some people just have to call upon their teachers, their intermediators, their Saviors, their Gurus, their different Divine Names to do what they don’t yet feel they have the power to do themselves.

You may scoff, but walk her to God is exactly what I had to do, at the very end of this journey I’ve been on with Eve. Mom, you see, was not keen on leaving us. First off, her ninety-seven-and-a-half-year-old, raised-as-a-healthy-farm-girl body was strong as an old fashioned indestructible fort, the kind that can withstand onslaught after onslaught of attacks by cannons, firearms and fire, even a lightning bolt or two. Must have been all the good nutrition mom pumped into her holy temple, all the fresh fish she ate in between the junk food she loved as well, because even after she accidentally caused blood clots to form (never use Coumadin, aka Warfarin! It’s a dinosaur drug and ought to be outlawed for eldery people to self-administer) she still managed to recover from “the worst bedsore we’ve ever seen,” said the nursing home staff. Learning how to walk all over again became Eve’s final life challenge, becoming mobile so she could achieve her insistent life goal–to die at home.

When the process began of mom’s soul separating from her holy temple, I was there to help her, relax her, comfort her, and show her the ease by which one can trust the Light of Eternal Love, and … help Eve walk right into that so-familiar Light when her body-temple finally released its tenacious hold on her so-stubborn will.

Great Beings, it is said and has been well documented (see Graceful Exits by my pal Shushila Blackman) have “control” over their will, and have been known to slip right out of their temples when they are ready. Easy as that! But not for us mere mortals, spiritual neophytes. Oh no. We have to wait until “it’s our time” or “Jesus comes for us” or “the body is good and ready to shut down” and the best of all, “When Eve and God are ready, and not a moment before.” All of these were heard by me during Mom’s final days, some said by hospice nurses sitting by her bedside along with me, or people offering comfort during this in between state that seems, no matter how religious or spiritual we are, a completely surreal time, when we are losing a close loved one. When the “veil between the two worlds,” the seen and the unseen, is gently (or sometimes, not so gently) pulled aside, to allow a soul to pass between them.

Now mom is gone. She’s become One with All. I feel her. I haven’t lost anything about her except, I admit it, I miss seeing her, hearing her voice. But time will heal that, too, as it does everything else. Now is the exciting stage where my hard job is done and I’m gathering my strength to lift myself off the floor, after having been knocked down by life’s natural happenings. Here today, right now, is where I’m brushing the sand and the dust and the glass shards off myself, and as I regain my firm footing, feel my balance in a world that’s been momentarily turned upside-down, I’m thinking how my life is going to be different in this next chapter.


can a person seem any greater than … a mother?

What am I going to take with me, as I unfurl my Phoenix wings, lift myself from the ashes of yet another fiery destruction I’ve lived through? This one is the end, the true ending of my childhood (even though I’m laughingly in my sexies, almost ready for my seventies). I’m already being called “the matriarch of the family” by our two kids, aged twenty-nine and thirty-two.

More than ever, mom’s final passage from this hardcore, real-life reality realm to the other, invisible, spiritual realm, has shown me that nothing, absolutely nothing, is what it seems to be. Nothing is what it appears to be. And once again I’ve been shown that the only thing I can trust, has been Truth Supreme and ever will always be, happily for us–is to believe in Love.

What about Love?

Love is what some call God. Love is everywhere, in everything, and we are all part of it. Witnessing my mom’s passage to the very core of Love has only confirmed what I’ve known all along, that we are all a part of It, this Light, this Love, what I call “the One.” Mom was just a “cell” within the body of this Love, she who had a certain strong farm-girl’s body, a certain personality, who fulfilled a certain role in mine and others’ lives. And now that she’s gone, her outer shell, that is, the force she was still is here, forever. She is still doing her cellular part in the Love Story of existence. It’s just that I can’t see her any more. But I can still talk to her. I can still ask her to help out, send energy to certain areas of life that need a little boost. I can still feel her presence. I feel her part in the entirety. Her leaving her body hasn’t changed any of that.

My wings are ready, I’m drying them in the sunshine of yet another beautiful chapter of my journey here about to begin. As I flap these beautiful, strong wings of mine, in preparation for the take-off that’s happening as soon I type my final “period” here in this post today … I feel the joy of knowing that I’m part of the Mystery, just as Mom is, too. She always will be, as I always will be. As each of us always are, have been, and always will be.

Indeed, things are not what they appear to be. So … what are they then? Things certainly aren’t what’s happening politically. Good God, No! And they aren’t what’s happening purely on a scientific level either (there are too many loop holes and loose ends for science to have all the answers). Everything plays a part in what’s happening. A giant dance is unfolding, with many players, many melodies. Our job is to … participate.

For me, for this spiritual warrior, I think it’s best to leave the Mystery of existence undefined, and just be sufficiently satisfied with with it’s not. Discovering what it IS, after all, is part and parcel of the Mystery itself. If we knew what “this is all about” … it would take all the fun out of our discovering its next round, its magical essence.


Stay tuned. The next exciting chapter in life’s magical mystery tour will be documented, as best I can, by this artist’s need to communicate with you what I’ve learned, and what I’m eager to learn next.

I send my love to each and every one of you,

your pal Lord Flea, aka teZa Lord




lord flea and my pagan-Catholic mama

Some of us are living angels and some of us are spirit-angels, but let’s face it—all of us, one way or another—we truly are angels.

In my book an angel is a person (or his or her disembodied soul, their spirit) who acts in, through, by and for Love. And for a newcomer to Lord Flea Sings, let me say right here that Love is my all-purpose, go-to definition of God. Usually, people think of angels as having wings and flying through the air. And yes, that’s the way artists have depicted them throughout human history. Even I have. Here’s an example of my “Twenty-first Century Angel” series.

Protection Mandala

Good Dreams Mandala

Today I’ve got my mother on my mind, as I’ve had a lot these past weeks since hospice announced she’s “In Transition.”

What does that term mean: In Transition? Well, to a bus or train rider it means something completely different than it does to a thanatologist, a person who helps others approach the end of their physical life, preparing them for their spiritual existence. These are the kinds of people, angels all!, who work for hospice. When I first heard the term, over 30 years ago from Jane McCutcheon, who was in the first graduating class of Thanatology at Cornell University School of Nursing, it was explained to me thusly by my good pal.

In Transition means that a person is in the process of separating, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly, from the many layers of denseness that holds their eternal soul in the body, which is, of course, a temporary temple for the spirit.”

When I put the following post up on Facebook a few weeks ago, “Please pray for my mom as she’s in transition,” most people thought mom had died. But no. She’s very much alive. But … in a half-here, half-there kind of way in which she’s being visited by “entities” and “people” and … last night Wanda was there.

“She sat by my bed all night long, just being quiet,” mom softly told me when I arrived to visit at my usual time to read “Gulliver’s Travels” to her, our quirky way to share mother-daughter time, always reading a strange, obscure book out loud.

“Really?” I said. “What did she do?”

“She didn’t do anything. Just sat there.”

“So what did you do, Mom? Was it weird for you? Did you talk to her?”

“Sure it was weird. So I asked her, ‘Who the hell are you?’ and you know what she told me?”

“I haven’t a clue, Mom.”

“She told me she’s God. But I think she meant she’s from God. Then she told me her name is Wanda.”

Wow, I murmured. I couldn’t think of anything to say after that. I just held Mom’s hand. She didn’t exclaim about Wanda any more, just matter-of-factly accepted it.

But I can’t wait to see who or what is happening today surrounding her deathbed, when I soon go visit my beloved 97-year-old mom, whose transition is not all peace, nice thoughts and soft fluffy clouds. Mom resists leaving us and there’s been too much pain of the gross, physical sort that one doesn’t like to think about during such sacred times as this. It appears like Mom needs all the help she can get, during this letting-do process, so she can remain in the Light of Love, feel some joy instead of pain, excitement int or peace instead of sadness and fear.

I think my role as mom’s sidekick through this adventure, her last here, is to help her accept that life after death just may, JUST may, be even more exciting than this world of fishing, writing, growing and making art and babies and lots of other things, laughing, loving, and dancing around the globe that she has so adored doing, with or without my father who has left us thirty years ago now.

I pray for my mom to relax and enjoy her transition time. Each day a tiny thread—holding her down to earth, keeping her captured in her heavy and now-useless body—gets cut. Sometimes she’s “gone” for hours at a time. Once, a few weeks ago, the entire day. All day long she “sees” things. Then she reaches out her hand to grab it/them as it/they float by. Her eyes are always looking, looking, looking at the wonder that surrounds her. Up in the air, mostly, her gaze is looking—in wonder.

My job, as her loving, patient, open-heart daughter is to stop with the tears, already! And give Mom as much comfort, love, peace, smiles and laughter, as I possibly can.

That’s my job, here.

I have to remember to not trip-up on the sentimental bull. There’s no time for feeling sorry for myself, thinking about losing someone so special in my life. I have to remember I’m  in the state of Grace, witnessing my mother’s very own transition — right up close, right next to her as I am.

What an honor. What a privilege.

Maybe someday the angel named Wanda will come and help me through some rough time, as well. I sure hope so.

Your pal, LordFlea, aka teZa

here’s another of my “spirit body” works … sans one wing.

One-armed Angel (view 1), mixed meida, 30“x15”x8“

One-armed Angel (view 1), mixed meida, 30“x15”x8“




the Sufi Prayer (written backwards, on my dining table)

Breathing is WAY more important than most people realize. It’s the core aspect of being alive, after all. People who want to make progress on the spiritual path ask me: how do I meditate, how do I visualize, etc. But believe me, nothing is more important that knowing, really understanding, the importance of proper breathing. If you have trouble stilling your mind or thinking peaceful thoughts, close your eyes and try this:
Focus on the expansion of your lungs as you breathe in and let your little buddha belly relax outwardly when you breathe in, releasing the diaphragm, the flat sheath-like muscle that pumps air in and out of your lungs. Then focus on the breath leaving your lungs, and your stomach area below ribs pushes IN, contracting the diaphragm, which allows your breath to leave fully. A tiny pause between in-and-out is the “space” meditation teachers always tell their students to look for. This is just a trick, really, to get you to focus your mind to super-sharp one-pointedness. This “space” is a half-millisecond long, this nano-moment between breaths. But it’s a nice trick, one that gets students to focus on the in-and-out process, and gets people mindful of how they’re breathing.
identifying with the Teacher

listen to your Inner Teacher!

THIS IS IMPORTANT!!! This kind of breathing is called yoga-breath or belly-breath or diaphragmatic breathing. It’s the kind of breathing athletes use, also professional singers, and is taught to mothers about to give birth. This way of breathing makes your mind and body strong. Breath connects the mind and body, the spiritual and material. You “marry” the mind to the breath, or “harness” them together. Learn how if you don’t already breathe in this manner. Without proper breathing a yoga practice  (or one’s life) is … dull, boring, mostly ineffective compared to what it could be. Belly-breathing is counter-intuitive to how most people breathe. It just takes a little practice, and once you get it—you’ve harnessed your Inner Power!


Do NOT move your shoulders up and down as you breathe. All the muscular action comes from your diaphragm. Put your hand on your navel to feel the in-out motion. Connect with this belly-action: it is key to proper breathing.


So…when you breathe in, you’re filling the lungs, right? think: RELEASE the diaphragm (push belly out to release that muscular dome, the diaphragm, holding lungs separate from guts). This muscle has been compared to a bellows, the old-fashioned hand-tool used to push compressed air onto a faltering fire, making flames roar up from the increase of oxygen. The same thing happens in your lungs when you engage the “bellows-like” diaphragm.

When you breathe out: PUSH diaphragm in and up, forcing air to evacuate your lungs.

This breathing properly is very very important to get, to comprehend, and then USE. This kind of breathing alone, is a meditation. Practice till you can do it without thinking about what’s happening with the diaphragm.
In-breath, belly OUT

out-breath, belly IN


getting help with handstand

If you can gradually add the visualization of LIGHT and STRENGTH coming in, and going out, along with this muscular action in your CORE (because this is what you’re engaging when you breathe this way, my friend) … then you are preparing for an outta-sight yoga practice. Or … a more aware life, in general.


If you don’t spend TIME getting this diaphragmatic breathing, you’ll miss out on the beauty of a “true” yoga practice. WHY? Because quite simply (and trust me, this is true) breathing is the BRIDGE between our lower consciousness and our higher perceptions.

​If you haven’t yet learned to connect to your breath, at all times, in all circumstances, not just when “doing yoga” … then you ought to. Right NOW.

Guardian of the Sky, mixed media, 27“x60”

Breath is the KEY to a powerful Life

Breath is the key. It’s the “bridge” between the two sides of life: the material and the spiritual. Think about it: if you’re not breathing you’re … that’s right, you’re dead! It’s that basic. Kind of silly, but when you understand how important consciously breathing is—how without being aware of it we’re stuck in … lower perceptions—then you’ll grasp how very important it is to connect at all times, especially stressful ones, with your in-breath, with your out-breath.


Of course the perfect way to practice this new consciousness we call awareness … is when we “do yoga.” Meaning … perform the asanas by harnessing the breath, engaging the breath FIRST.

reach for the sun

surya namaskar

Okay, think of a sun salute. Let’s call this series of asanas as a “basic training” mechanism by which you get to 1) focus on your breath, 2) move your body, 3) stretch and/or strengthen muscles, tendons, ligaments, joints. It’s THIS SIMPLE. Without first “harnessing the breath” (think of saddling up your horse … you MUST be comfortable in your breath, your saddle, being aware of it, “seeing” it fill you, “seeing” it leave you, “resting” in your ability to consciously be breathing, not unconsciously) without this, all you’re doing when you do a sun salute is a calisthenic, gym-rat repetition. Seriously. Without FIRST joining your awareness to the breath, every move you make is … shallow.

love ya, glorious breath to you and yours,
Lord Flea aka teZa Lord
Harness the Power Within by harnessing your breath!
Book of teZ

the Power Within