It's all good.

God! I LOVE my life! I'm listening to the soundtrack from "The Big Chill". Excellent music. I must say. Aretha is singing, "You make me feel like a natural woman." This is the perfect music to clean out closets and organize drawers. That has been my mission this week. "Out with the old...." "A place for everything and everything in it's place." Windows are open, candles are lit and incense is burning. It's a sunny 83 degrees on the beach today. Can you believe it? It's been like summer all week. It's freaky beautiful here.

Marlie dropped my cell phone in the toilet when she was here for Christmas, bless her heart, so I now have the new Blackberry. Who would have thought you'd have to take a class to learn how to use a phone? But, oh my, this phone. I'm feeling tingly all over. I'm crazy about technology, in spite of the fact that I don't understand how it works or how to make it do what I want...just the fact that it can, makes me happy.

I want to share a story with you. This is the kind of thing that happens with children that gives me great hope for the future. The little ones understand so much more than we realize. It's all good.

Michael, my 5 year old grandson, has been learning about Reiki and energy because, well, he's my grandson, and how can he not? So, when he had a minor meltdown last week he took a bath and came into my office for his first official session. This is how it went.

I lit a candle on the small round table that sits between the comfy velvet swivel chairs. He sat back and I started with, "What are you feeling?"

He took a moment to assess his body and said, "I feel blue and red."

"Let me see if I understand. What feeling is blue?" I asked.

"It's sadness."

"I see. And what is red? Is it anger?"

"Yes." He nodded.

"How big is the blue?"

He took another moment to move out, energetically, and feel it's size.

"You know on the bottom of the Earth, where the penguins live?" I nodded. "It's that deep and that big." He answered with complete certainty.

"And how big is the red?"

He looked around and checked out the boundaries of his red anger. "It's as big as this room."

"What happened that activated these feelings?" I asked, already knowing, as I was a witness to the incident.

It's very challenging for Michael to talk about things. He clams up pretty tight and this was no exception.

"I want you to guess." he said.

"Hmmm. Let me see if I can put it together. This is what I think it might be but I could be wrong, so make sure you tell me if I don't have it exactly right. I think it might have something to do with saying good-bye to Maggie." (Maggie is the Rottie in the photo on my website. Great dog.)

"You had fun playing with Maggie today and when Grandpa Jay was getting ready to leave, Maggie ran downstairs to the front door. I don't think you wanted to see her go."

He shook his head.

"Right then, Grandpa Jay reached out his hand for you to shake and he said, 'It was good to see you, Michael, and I hope I get to see you again before you go.' and you stepped back a bit from him. It must have felt very different from the way the rest of your family says 'good-bye' with lots of hugs and kisses and tickles."

He said, "Yeah!" If he was a bitter older I had the feeling he would have said something like, 'that was weird'. I watched him when it happened and his little boy body pulled in on itself, like a sea anemone when it's poked.

"And just then your mother popped in with, 'You know, Michael, when you show me you can be responsible, you might be able to get a dog.' because she misread your energy. And then I started to explain something to you about pet responsibility because, I too, misread what you were feeling."

I could see by his expression that I nailed it. His body relaxed just to have someone to finally understand what he was feeling.

He said, "I felt like I was surrounded." Which I think meant he felt overwhelmed with all that was happening in those few minutes. It's a suffocating feeling. His hands went to cover his ears as I began my 'pet responsibility' lecture and he shouted, "Don't say anything! You're going to say something mean." and he ran to the corner of the couch and under a blanket. His mother said, "Michael! When has Grandma EVER said anything mean?" but it was too late, he was closed down.

Now, in the candlelit calm of my office, after a nice warm bath, he was ready to deal with it.

"I understand how you felt being surrounded by adults, with all of their eyes looking down on you. You felt sad saying good-bye to Maggie, and confused a little by Grandpa Jay's good-bye, then attacked with Mommy and me talking about pet responsibility.... all at once."

"Yes, and I have been responsible. I've been helpful." Which is true. He is the sweetest boy, always running upstairs to check on Nana and bring her treats. He'll run up into the loft to get diapers for his baby sister when she needs a change. He's just the best little boy.

After a few deep breaths and smiles I asked Michael how big the blue sadness and red anger were. He told me that the blue was half it's previous size and the red was almost gone.

"Are you ready to let them go?" I asked.

"NO! Because then they might go into somebody else." he said with his eyes wide open, looking at me. How sweet is that? So concerned for others. Ya gotta love this kid.

"You know, Michael. I know a way to let colors and feelings go so that they won't bother anyone else. You just tie them to a helium balloon and let them go straight up, back to God, where those colors and feelings are transformed into love.

He said he wasn't ready to do that as he shook his little head, "no".

"When do you think you'll be ready to let them go?" I asked. "In ten minutes, two minutes, or twelve minutes?"

He took a bit of time to think about that...."One hundred minutes." he answered.

"It's pretty late and time for bed so that means while you're sleeping those colors are going to lift out of your body and float away, okay?"

He nodded an affirmative.

"Now let me ask you, Michael. What color would you like to feel?"

"Yellow, like the sun." he said. "It's warm and cozy and safe like love." OMG! Is he just too cute?

We finished our session and he went to bed. The next morning we were snuggling on the couch under a blanket, his head on my belly, his arms and legs wrapped around me. I whispered, "This feels like yellow." He picked up his head to look me in the eyes, and said, "Yes, this is yellow, Grandma."