i love you, too

You Found Love!

2015-11-21T18:19:00.000-08:00

You can download your own i love you, too sign here.

You can share your i love you, too story here.

That's how you Get Love. Give Love.

So much love!

Key to my heart

2012-02-29T22:22:00.001-08:00

Here is the key to my heart.

Love is (always) the answer: 16th @ Owens

2012-02-29T22:20:00.001-08:00

Love is (always) the answer: 16th @ vermont

2012-02-29T22:19:00.000-08:00

Love is (always) the answer.

2012-02-29T22:14:00.002-08:00

you are enough: Juri Commons Guerrero & 25th

2012-02-29T22:02:00.001-08:00

you are enough: Lyell @ Still

2012-02-29T22:01:00.000-08:00

You are enough.

If I could, I would come into your house at night and paint this on your bathroom mirror. This way, you'd see the message morning and night as you brush your teeth and comb your hair. Maybe after reading it over and over, this message would sink into your memory and become part of your truths, something you never doubted. You are enough.

Of course you are going places. I know you have big dreams, goals and a to do list. But know this: You are enough. Just as you are, right now, in this very moment you are enough.

Yes, there are times you cry in the shower so no one will know. Yes, some mornings you wake up and stare out into the blank new day thinking you might stay curled up in bed. Even then, you are enough. Tell yourself. Over and over. You are enough.

You are moving down your path in life - maybe you skip, perhaps you dance, sometimes you might even do the backwards walk. There are times you will stop on your path to smell the flowers or examine the hole in the ground, that's just how going down your path works. It does not matter how you go, but go you will. However you are traveling down your path, please smile the smile of someone who knows that they are enough.

Good morning, friend. You are enough.

What do you love? Friday

2012-02-24T06:59:00.002-08:00

Good Morning, Love!

It's Friday. Our weekly pause, meditation, prayer on the love around us.

This week I'm loving this amazing video found via Brain Pickings : http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2012/02/22/ira-glass-on-the-secret-of-success/

This Ira Glass quote has hung above my desk for the last year. What a gift from him, his creative process and opening up his journey to great writing. I'm super inspired by the maker of the video, as well. The dedication to moving the text about and setting it to Ira's voice - even more profound to hear the familiar lilts and tones remind me to KEEP MAKING.

More often than not, the wooden signs I make for the fence don't turn out as gorgeous as I dreamed up in my head. Painting words on wood is hard. Many times I've been asked by passersby, "Do your kids make those signs?" Nope. It's me. That's my best writing - its hard on uneven wood, in a hurry, out of practice or at this place in my creating. I look at the finished signs and sometimes they want to be better themselves, I'll wish my handwriting looked like someone elses or that the colors were different, the spacing just right.

I love Ira for reminding me to simply MAKE MORE. Yes.

It's Friday. What do you love?

Outwitted

2012-02-21T17:17:00.001-08:00

He drew a circle to shut me out.

Heretic, rebel a thing to flout.
But love and I had the wit to win.
We drew a circle that took him in.

-Edwin Markham

my Tuesday night love for you

2012-02-21T17:17:00.000-08:00

Going, going, but not gone.

This Friday: Live music, poetry, love note writing

2012-02-21T16:13:00.003-08:00

Join us for a night of on-demand poetry, reading, music, and love letter writing!

Secession Art & Design (30th & Mission St, San Francisco, CA)

Wine will be served.

This Friday!
Feb. 24th
5:30-7:30pm

We look forward to seeing you!

POETRY:
Come see the poetry store's latest work and get a poem from the poet herself! Silvi Alcivar will be writing on-demand poems and at 6:30pm she'll read some poems, including excerpts from her new book "sometimes we must swarm." (www.thepoetrystore.net)

MUSIC:
Jamie McKenzie of pocket full of rye will be strumming her ukelele and filling the gallery with gorgeous song. Hooray! (www.pocketfullofrye.net)

LOVE LETTERS:
Help create a love themed art piece! Join Shannon Weber, creator of www.LoveYou2.org, and help change the world one love note at a time by writing your own love note. No prep necessary. Just bring your heart.

waiting for you

2012-02-21T11:03:00.001-08:00

always

2012-02-18T18:07:00.002-08:00

"What do you love?" Friday

2012-02-17T09:33:00.003-08:00

It's "What do you love?" Friday, a brief pause for reflection and acknowledgement of the many loves in our lives.

I love seeing small moments of generosity and thoughtfulness like these gorgeous flowers found on the fence. Happy surprises that remind me of the many good deeds and kind acts that keep this world afloat.

It's Friday. What do you love?

What do you love? Friday

2012-02-10T08:00:00.001-08:00

It's "What do you love?" Friday. The weekly prompt so share what you love. Part offering, part gratitude, sometimes a hope - your chance to pause and say, "Yes. This is what I love."

I love dancing, twirling, spinning, moving on the wood dance floor. I love the top-chef-famous-DJ spinning the tunes. I love the happy, delighted faces mixing in the crowd. I love being surprised by a friend around the corner.

Tell me. What do you love?

I am loved

2012-02-08T12:44:00.001-08:00

A week ago I put up a "Love on the line" display on this fence. By morning, the display was gone. Absorption happens. Absorption is one of the mysteries and experiences of ephemeral street art.

I drove by the fence today and saw the amazing "I am loved" signs. Ohmygosh. (!)

YOU ARE LOVED. Yes, oh yes, oh yes you are! And what happens when you walk around in the world being your amazing, loved self? Everything.

Rock on.

P.S.- sometimes I wish I knew who you are.

P.S.S. - Most of the time I know it's the best when I don't know who you are, just like the book Somebody Loves You, Mr. Hatch.

Valentine's Day: my love is on the line

2012-02-08T12:35:00.002-08:00

I grew up making paper Valentine's at the kitchen chopping block - cutting red, pink and white construction paper hearts after homework was done. One year, we made homemade play-dough-heart-shaped-necklaces, baked in the oven and strung on red yarn. My mom insisted we make a Valentine for each kid in the class, themes from my childhood: include everyone and if you want to receive then you need to give, do your part. You were either all in or you were out. I was in! I loved the promise of my decorated paper lunch bag or milk-carton-turned-mailbox filled with little notes and cards. These cards saved year after year under my bed, "You have too much yammy-yama!" my mom would chide. There were egg cartons carefully protecting small and broken treasures and shoe boxes stuffed with cards and notes, held closed with a ribbon or shoelace.

As a child, the weeks preceding Valentines Day promised a trip to the drug store for a new supply of white doilies and maybe, just maybe, a packet of stickers. Today, the advertising and selling of Valentine's Day seems ratcheted up a notch or three. The consumption factor, the obligation to give big and bold, and the exclusive focus on couples are such a long and winding journey to another land far from the kitchen's chopping block and creative space of my childhood memories.

Valentine's Day remains one of my favorite holidays - the array of today's fancy scissors and paper, punches, and adonrments make me weak-kneed with possibility.

During 2011 I celebrated Valentine's Day on the i love you, too blog with individual love notes posted near friends' homes or on businesses and corresponding blog posts declaring my love. The experience of finding the words, posting the sign, clicking "send" all transformative moments as I practiced loving outloud. I gained major "heart muscle", if you will, not unlike what would happen to my arms if I did push-ups every day for an entire month. My heart muscle grew bolder, stronger and telling people how and why I love them remains in my heart muscle memory.

2012's celebration of Valentine's Day on the i love you, too blog is a series of pop-up art displays around San Francisco - Love on the line. I love you, too fliers customized with phrases inspired by status updates and 'i love you because Fridays' from the i love you, too Facebook page hang with clothespins from a clothesline.

i love you NOW!
i love you and i am so very sorry
i love you with my whole <3
J- i love you
i love you because you wake up smiling
i love you because you let me
i love you - Lucky Me!
i love you night & day
i love you - i can't remember not
i think i love you
i love you (i really do)
i love you. are you listening?

I enjoy the nod to laundry, an every day mundane experience, and turning upside down the concept of 'airing your dirty laundry'. In the end, love and loves and loved is who who we are and what gives our soul its beautiful shape. I really enjoy seeing the repetition of the signs - I'm still enthralled with that font and the concept that you can pull a tab of love whenever you need it. The visual repetition along with the custom messages provoke a 'heart full and smiling' experience. I've learned there is something quite anonymous about posting the signs in a group and about more than one person or experience at a time- yay, more heart muscle building!

Before I sit down at the table and start cutting out hearts and layering the paper to make this year's cards, I had to put my love for you on the line. It seems the proper thing to do after loving you for all this time.

What will you do to show your love? I can't wait to see what your big heart does.

Expect Great Things: 15th & South Van Ness

2012-02-07T22:15:00.003-08:00

Love on the line: 22nd St. Parklet

2012-02-07T22:15:00.002-08:00

Love on the line: Church Street

2012-02-06T09:05:00.001-08:00

Love on the line: Irving St.

2012-02-05T12:43:00.002-08:00

What do you love? Friday

2012-02-03T07:30:00.001-08:00

Welcome to "What do you love? Friday", a weekly prompt to acknowledge love in your life. Part devotional, part gratitude, part fill-in-the-blank, part wish - this moment is yours to explore the various forms of love in your life.

I love walking in the canyon with my boys, quieting my mind and experiencing the world through their eyes. I love when they ask me to hold their treasures (even though I sometimes complain about being the family closet - asked to hold everything!) for safe keeping. These shells prompted long conversations about nature, the ridges fully explored and design examined and appreciated to the point I knew no one had ever seen anything exactly like this. Ever. Beauty.

It's Friday. Tell me, please - What do you love?

Love on the line: Cortland

2012-02-01T18:48:00.001-08:00

For my Bernal Heights loves.

Love on the line

2012-02-01T09:00:00.001-08:00

new heART on the fence - a round up of recent activity

2012-01-29T11:15:00.002-08:00

I loaded up the car a week ago with a bunch of heART signs and revisited some favorite fences and found a new one.

From the top of Dolores Park: Aren't You Something, hello again, & Love is louder.

South Van Ness: Expect Great Things

Clarion Alley: Aren't You Something, the brightside, & Love is louder

Valencia Street: Aren't You Something, Bloom, & Love is louder

A guest submitted photo of this fence completely made my day. When hanging the signs at night, I'd wondered if enough littles walked by to see the mirror (though I eventually saw many adults crouch down to look at themself - bravo!). Proof there are littles walking by:

This photo = happiness.

What do you love?

2012-01-27T06:58:00.001-08:00

Welcome to "What do you love? Friday", the weekly prompt to document your love.

Part madlib, part prayer, part thank you note, part devotional, this weekly offering provides the reminder and space to recognize loves various forms in our lives. The people, the places, the things – a capture of the now.

I love bumping into grace.

I love the early morning hours when the house is quite and the day is full of possibility.

I love my friend is coming to town tonight to play and see art and eat yummy food and tell me that life is really, really good.

I love the smell of the surf wax J brought from Hawaii.

It's Friday - please tell! What do you love?

the ultimate proof

2012-01-24T22:09:00.001-08:00

For one human being to love another; that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation. - Rilke

Aren't you something!

2012-01-21T08:17:00.001-08:00

Yes you are!

On Valencia near 17th.

what do you love?

2012-01-20T07:04:00.001-08:00

It's "What do you love?" Friday, the weekly reflection and opportunity to say (or type) aloud what we love. Sometimes the list is long and sometimes this is just one thing. Regardless, I always feel happier and that my heart has grown just a little bit bigger every time I do it.

At this moment, what do I love?

I love wearing my new warm jacket - I almost love the jacket itself but we've not known each other long enough and right now I simply love being toasty warm.

I love my son asking me to tuck him last night.

I love my 'to do' basket all cleaned out - fresh and ready for new ideas.

I love the adventure that is in front of me today - going across the bay and talking with new people.

I love my friend Sandra and her never ending compassion, generosity and listening ear.

I love waking up and finding happy text messages waiting for me on my phone.

It's Friday. What do you love?

what do you love?

2012-01-13T07:06:00.001-08:00

It's "What do you love? Friday", a madlib for your heart. Finish your own "I love...." sentence in the comments section and feel your heart grow a little bit bigger.

I love read alouds at bedtime, especially since we've pulled out old favorites from the toddler years like "Goodnight Moon."

What do you love?

look what we've been talking about, love!

2012-01-10T20:19:00.001-08:00

This word cloud (make your own at wordle.net) was made from the LoveYou2.org blog - a visual iteration of the words on the blog.

I think it is beautiful. I am giddy with delight looking at what we have been talking about.

What. Amazing. Words. Yes!

what do you love?

2012-01-06T07:42:00.000-08:00

Every Friday during 2011 on the i love you, too Facebook page, we hosted "I love you because" Friday, a madlib for your heart. Participants were invited to finish their own "I love you because" sentence in the comments section and send their love out in to the world. Personally this was a beautiful practice of telling someone publicly every single week why I loved them. There are so many people I love and so many reasons why. Often, we take for granted the reasons why or forget to tell someone specific reasons they mean so much to us. This weekly devotion was at times bold, other times simple, sometimes long overdue, always welcome.

During 2012, I'm shifting this weekly practice of loving outloud to include the blog and altering the prompt to "What do you love?", letting our love statements become gratitude moments that may be about someone specific but could be about something or some moment. This, too, is a continuation of my own exploration of love as a noun, a verb, a statement, a necessity, a gift.

This first Friday of 2012 try it out with me - what do you love?

I love this sunset at on New Year's Day. I love Frau Fiber's Sewing Rebellion and the aprons from dress shirts we made last night. I love 2012 stretched out blank in front of me waiting to be filled with memories. I love the new year already brought a new friend. I love the conversations happening at dinnertime. I love this space to practice loving you outloud.

I See The Beauty

2012-01-05T20:03:00.001-08:00

by T. Elizabeth

Where ever I walk, I see the Beauty.

Where others see graffiti on a city sidewalk,

I see cement being used as a new medium

A rainbow of words painted across drab concrete

Teaching people, telling people,

Look at me! I'm down here too!

Where others see a muddy trickle of water

Making its way to the gutter

I see a river

The lights of the city refracting off of it

Sparkling like a diamond in the rough.

Will you come walk with me?

See the Beauty with me?

Because when two see it,

The Beauty of what others don't see,

There is twice as much.

There is twice as much to fill our eyes

To see

To share

To keep

To remember

To come back to

With you.

2012 looks full of possibility

2012-01-05T18:37:00.001-08:00

2012 is shiny and bright! What will you do?

In 2012 I will:

get a job
start my you can do it campaign
practice guitar more
leap tall buildings in a single bound
party on the deck
try harder
win
love you without limits
more love and joy
quit my job
get married
be nicer
eat healthier
help others
try better in school
go to hawaii!
use my debit card
be more easy going
play more games
curb my temper
hope the 49ers win the super bowl
listen & be still
write a novel

that sign to let you know i'm here

2012-01-05T10:46:00.001-08:00

I lost my Mother in July and have been missing her a lot during the holiday season. She was such a beautiful woman, I am so lucky that I had her for my dear Mother.

I was really missing her this week while I was walking my dog. I felt the beautiful winter breezes and I sent up a little prayer to my Mother, telling her I missed her, and asking her to send me a sign that she was looking over me. I let Rocky lead the way through the neighborhood and then we came upon your fence sign, "Just a sign to let you know I'm here". Needless to say it touched me and made me laugh too, cause after all I prayed for a sign! (I was expecting a bird or a feather or a pine cone.) I got to thinking about how that sign would resonate with anyone who had lost someone dear.

Thank you for it.

Losing Saul

2011-12-18T09:33:00.003-08:00

In October we lost my brother Saul, age 36, to suicide. It was Friday evening when I received the auspicious voicemail from my sister. Returning her call, I finished putting dinner on the table for my kids and their sleepover friends. Having never thought about how I would respond to devastating news, I was unprepared to find myself wailing as I leaned against the door jam. Days later while running I would recognize this wailing experience as similar to the noises I made during the final moments of birthing my children. I think there is a sacred place deep inside that sings, chants to life at the transitions. As I wailed the strange, guttural noises the kids gathered around me, but not too close, wondering what to do. I wanted to pull myself together and be composed as I explained death, suicide, my brothers life but what really happened is I wiped snot on my shirt sleeve and told stories about my brother from childhood as I cried and dished up lasagna.

"Was your brother cyberbullied when he was younger?" the smallest sleepover friend queried. Yes, his parents are just that good.

My friend arrived to collect her kids and sit with me while I answered "I don't know," to more questions than I had answers. In the hours that followed, I did not know who to call or what to tell but it turned out to be not much - those kinds of friends summon themselves. I am simply amazed at the friends who surround me during the dark days.

As my family prepared for the service the details became the trees, the forest no longer clear. In the midst of formatting a funeral program and organizing flight details, we wanted to find a way to honor Saul's American Indian heritage. When the funeral director returned from the trading post with a Native blanket and sent a photograph of the blanket against the navy blue casket with a message explaining the tradition to wrap your dead in a blanket before burial, I fell apart (or more precisely, fell finally together) with gratitude. In the Native American tradition, it is the job of the living to send the spirit of the dead on its journey - allow it to go, sing it on its way.

As I packed my suitcase to fly to my family, my son went into his room and asked to be left alone. Later he returned to the kitchen red-eyed, his hand holding something and put his arms around me to hug me tight. When he let go he handed me a small organza bag and said, "This is for Saul." I spilled the contents of the bag on to the kitchen table. An i love you, too tab, a sharks tooth, a shell, several polished rocks, two worry dolls, a silver heart, an arrowhead from Sedona. Basically, all the treasures a boy has. "I see," I said, "You are sending everything Saul needs for his journey."

The other two kids followed his lead and returned from their rooms with treasures for the casket. My youngest put out his silver 'jujus', the little coins I leave with them when I travel, on the table. "I'm not sure about this one," he explained about the butterfly shaped coin stamped with 'spread your wings'. "It's my favorite and I don't know if I want to give it away." His older brother put an arm around him and said, "One thing we have learned is when you give it away, it always comes back to you. You'll see it again even if it does not look the same." Yes, we have learned this. My daughter wrapped her offerings and my friend brought a bundle of sage from the hot springs in the East Sierras for mine.

During the funeral and activities, we honored Saul's life well. We grieved hard and are still grappling with his death. But we also did our best to send his spirit on its way, to wish him well on his journey.

I daydream when Saul arrives in the next place, the people there will say "We have been waiting for you! We could not do this next great thing without you here!" When the people in the next place see the gifts Saul is carrying they will nod knowingly, "Oh, how they love you." They invite him in. The people in the next place know just how to take care of someone carrying a sharks tooth, a shell, a bundle of sage, jujus, polished rocks and blanket.

My love story

2011-12-18T08:10:00.000-08:00

I lost my wallet.

It had about $200 in cash (Xmas money, of course having been just withdrawn from the bank) and about the same value in gift cards. Lost is the wrong word though. I stupidly left it behind at the post office when I was using the self service kiosk late on a weeknight.

When I realized my blunder and returned, it was gone. I was devastated. People were so kind. Reassuring that it would be ok. I went home that night feeling as though I had learned a very tough lesson.

I entered my house through my back door and met up with my family. They were also super sweet and kind.

I offered to walk the puppy around the block and I leashed her up and we went to the front door. I opened it, and there, between the screen door and the front door, was my wallet.

No note. No knock that anyone heard that day. Just left there. With EVERYTHING still in it.

I have never been so grateful and impressed with humanity.

The next day, I took the money out to make a purchase. In the middle of the bills was a sticky note. It said "Merry Xmas." with a simple little heart. I peeled it off with the intent to keep it and could see there was something also written on the back. It said "Love everyone all the time and you deserve this return"

Someone posted your link on my facebook page when they heard my story....so I have been posting these posters all over....

We love you.

You are Lucky in Love

2011-12-17T19:43:00.001-08:00

You really are.

The best mother in the universe. Or not.

2011-12-17T19:36:00.002-08:00

My second child is an old soul, observant and wise. He is an artist and sees the world made up of shapes, colors, expression, and feelings rather than categories or labels. Long ago I learned to pause when he begins a series of questions to understand something and to listen when he explains how he sees things.

"Where do people keep racism?" he once asked and insisted that since we can feel racism when it happens and see the consequences of racism then we should actually find where people are keeping their racism so we can collect it. As if racism is kept in our back pockets or bedside table drawers and he might become the sandman each night collecting racism until the world was free of one of the isms.

One night he stared at the map of the world on our kitchen wall for a long time before excitedly calling everyone to join him, "If you just look at this map long enough you can see exactly how all the pieces use to fit together. I just can't wait to tell my teacher tomorrow that it finally makes sense!"

After listening to a story on the radio about a man who had repeated interactions with the police and court system, the report concluding with the man again in jail, my son quietly observed, "It does not sound like jail is a good answer for crime. It's sure not working for this guy." Observant, wise soul.

Recently, as I walked by him in the living room he says, "There is something I want to talk with you about. I don't want you to get offended but I think it's important for me to tell you the truth." I paused midstep and turned to him, quite curious. I immediately suspected fireworks were involved, but I was wrong.

"All these years we've been giving you cards that say 'Best Mom In The Whole World'. C'mon! How could you actually be the best mom in the whole world? That's a lot of moms! Even this city - look how many moms there are in just this city. You are probably not even the best mom in this city. I'm not saying you are a bad mom. You try hard. You do some creative things. We have a good life. But the best mom in the whole world? It's just not true."

Wow. This could be just the beginning. There are more than a few things to examine about my mothering and he is not afraid to talk about the hard stuff. I sat down across from my son, in part to be at his eye level, in part to feel grounded.

In a quick succession of emotions I went from defensive to attempting to rationalize my mediocre mom score to embrace his astute observation of the obvious. "I see what you are saying. Good point. And why should just one mom be the best in the whole world anyway?" I responded.

He continued, "I actually realized this awhile ago and first I felt bad knowing we had told you something that wasn't true. Then, I felt bad because I had liked feeling like I did have the best mom in the whole world and now I don't. I was trying to figure out how to tell you all these things. But, then something happened and I needed you. I remembered that I'm not an easy kid sometimes. After we worked on what happened I thought to myself, 'I don't know if another mom would have done all that for me.' That's when I knew you were the best mom for me. So, those cards I've been giving you should really say 'Best Mom In The Whole World For Me'." He took a deep breath and sat there, exhausted from truth telling and fearful he had crushed me with this admission.

My emotions still coming in waves I could count as they washed over me, I sat with the silence.

I know both from evidence and some kind of probability sampling issue, I am not the best mom in the world, or the universe, though there is a sign hanging over my desk that says so.

We spend a lot of time searching for "the best". Trying to acquire it, to own it, to be it, to have our very own piece of "the best" in some form for show and tell. Having "the best" or being "the best" of something can increase our perceived value or status.

This conversation with my son teaches me, the value added is in being who we really are - showing up at any given time or place with our unique offering.

The sign stays over my desk for now, a gentle reminder from the parenting-is-not-for-the-faint-of-heart-files, where life lessons are taught in passing, to just be me.

Love @ 826 Valencia

2011-12-17T15:06:00.002-08:00

Thank you 826 Valencia for giving kids a voice through writing.

Are you in love?

2011-12-17T08:48:00.001-08:00

Her text arrived on day three of our spring break road trip. "Are you in love? You seem so happy." I giggled, she must be reading the i love you, too Facebook updates. How to respond? I knew she was referencing being in love with a person, with a someone. But I felt more 'in love' than that. I'd discovered a new path of living love, so that being in love was more of a place that existed around me or within me than describing a relationship to a person. "Madly!" I texted back. "nutella sandwiches for breakfast, hot tub in the rain and jumping on the bed. What's not to love?"

I was also snapping photographs of anything that looked like love and hanging i love you, too signs everywhere we went, tucking extra tabs on windshields and into parking meters. Love was literally everywhere. My friend could feel my being in love from the updates posted to LoveYou2.org website and Facebook page though she was several states away from my experiences. What an amazing experiment in being in love. And yes, I was beyond simply happy.

I've slowly realized I can be in love whenever I choose. It's a conscious choice to participate in the world from a place of love. Its more than just viewing life with rose colored glasses, though the sunlight does seem to shimmer brighter off building windows when I go to this place of being in love. Giving myself the job of hanging up love notes and posting stories about my experiences is a how-to in being in love, a practice of going to the in love place and seeing what happens as I interact with others in the world.

Today I'm in love, again. At least for the morning.

Are you in love?

Love sighting at Occupy Palm Spring

2011-12-15T08:55:00.003-08:00

Small but mighty crew interested in sharing the love. Thank you Occupy
Palm Springs!

i <3 palm spring's blue skies

2011-12-15T08:53:00.000-08:00

PS I Love You

Love at The Ramp

2011-11-27T14:39:00.001-08:00

Finally, my love for you is at The Ramp.

story behind the heART: grace

2011-11-25T11:48:00.001-08:00

My current fascination and awe with grace (who, where, when, what, how is she?) explained through my devotion to the scrabble tiles. I have to turn my head to properly see the word - a reminder to myself to look at things from a different angle and consider the flip side of what I think is true. Grace - I think we'll see more of you.

story behind the heART: Just this.

2011-11-25T11:41:00.000-08:00

Just this is a reminder that any given moment is actually 'just this'. This is one of my 'just this' realizations. I washed the dinner dishes looking up toward the evening sky turning all my favorite colors of dusk, as a gentle breeze whispered through the backdoor brushing the nape of my neck, one child playing music on his record player, while from the other room the sounds of guitar practice emerged, the third child's pencil scratching on his math homework page from the table behind me. Just this. Not all the loud, competing, stressful, scary, overwhelming, worrisome stuff. Just this.

story behind the heART: Bloom

2011-11-25T11:32:00.001-08:00

The art bottle vases. Perhaps the most commented on piece of fence heART aside from 'in all my life i never met anyone as beautiful as you'.

Sweet, is that my middle child let me use his soda pop bottle collection to make the vases. I'd tried to grow plants at the gravely base of the fence to no avail and decided make up a new way. After giving me permission to select a few bottles from his collection, he provided astute commentary on how the bottles would be best ordered and affixed to the wood. With a creative burst, I stayed up late to finish the beading & choose the finishing touches.

As I went to hang the vases on the fence in the morning my son said, "Mama, the vases look great but you have not said anything. What are you trying to say with the vases?" Not wanting to delay my excitement at finally seeing flowers on the fence I replied, "I don't want to say anything, I just want to put flowers on the fence. Right now!" Seeing his disappointment and curious if there was not something more, we left for school and work without hanging the vases.

That evening, my son went to work on the computer, looking up various fonts and printing on different papers until he came up with the right combination. Bloom. Soda bottle vases on the front. Bloom on the reverse. Yes. That's it!

story behind the heART: the brightside/the wrong side

2011-11-25T11:18:00.000-08:00

I'm a silver lining kind of gal. I wanted to give a literal view of these two options to my kids. Yes, you can get up on the wrong side of bed. Yes, you can stay there all day if you choose. The "wrong side" (a place we don't feel we deserve to be or want to stay) is at some point a destination if not a major connection hub on any life journey. However bleak the circumstances (both big and small things can trigger the wrong side feeling), there is usually a brightside. Sometimes you have to walk all the way around to the back of the wrong side, as you do with this sign, to view the brightside. There may be times that walk around to the flip side of the wrong side can take days or weeks to accomplish. Even if we need to snuggle up with the feelings on the wrong side, just give a gentle nod to the fact that the brightside may not be so far away, if we can take it. It's mighty bright over here!

story behind the heART: give/receive

2011-11-25T11:09:00.000-08:00

Reverse sides of the same sign: give/receive. Depending on what side of the fence you are standing, this sign reminds the value of these seemingly polar interactions.

Breathing slowly in and out reminds me of the importance of both being able to give and being able to receive. Both giving and receiving take practice, like building a muscle or learning a new skill. Both are valuable, in fact vital, at different moments in the day or times in our lives. Both can require vulnerability or opening ourself up to possibility, a risk. Any one a potential barrier to giving or receiving.

This heART honors the mindful practice of giving and receiving, doing our part in the exchanges of life.

story behind the heART: to do

2011-11-25T10:06:00.001-08:00

My intentions for 2011: dance, laugh, love. wonder, listen

After awhile, the goals for 2011 posted on the refrigerator blend into the school lunch menu, certificates and artwork - I no longer see them.

I knew if I spent enough time to make my goals into art, my intentions would be memorized into my hand and mind. Perhaps I'd accomplish them by osmosis.

story behind the heART: xoxo

2011-11-25T09:58:00.001-08:00

XOXO is almost as overused as the exclamation point in our communication frenzied world.

But hanging a few hugs and kisses on the fence is too easy, too fun.

Giving away "XOXO", little hugs and kisses, is a gateway to giving away much greater pieces of ourselves.

story behind the heART: Everything will be ok.

2011-11-25T09:55:00.000-08:00

"Everything will be ok." is one of the first signs I hung on the fence. I say this phrase so many times to my kids that I hoped a visual reminder might provide the reinforcement necessary to make this statement true, help it become their mantra. Its one of those things I'd like to write with a sharpie on the wall by the backdoor or the palm of their hand - hey, everything will be ok!

We maneuver through the morning's beautiful chaos of packing lunches, reviewing the after school schedules, sorting permission slips and soccer shoes and too small pants - Everything will be ok. Yes, sometimes I say this allowed as a prayer, a fortune or a wish as much as a belief.

Everything will be ok.

One of those mornings, I was triggered by my one of my own fears - a deep fear that can send me in an inward spiral down. Its a familiar path, so well worn that my mind spins quickly and arrives at complete disaster within seconds. My heart pounds. My senses alert. Disaster looms. While I know this is not reality but the path of fear seductively pulls in a familiar way. With perceived emanate disaster looming around me and the kids waiting in the car to go to school, I grabbed my purse and walkied down the stairs, glimpsing the sign posted for my kids, "Everything will be ok." "Ya, right," said a voice inside - my deepest fears becoming larger than the truth.

By evening, I'd sort through my fear and retraced my mind's path back to the warm, preferred place of abundance and love. I took the sign off the fence and added, "yes, it will". I had to talk back to the inner fear. A reminder that even when fear seductively beckons - Everything will be ok. Yes, it will.

story behind the heART: A sign to let you know I'm here.

2011-11-25T09:35:00.001-08:00

So often we are looking for a sign - something that might illuminate our path or give a nod toward one decision or another. Many times we are waiting for this sign to show up on our front door step and ring the bell, be delivered by post on letterpress stationery or arrive clearly marked in a Tiffany blue box. In reality, the signs we seek can be adorned in a cloak of disappointment or cleverly disguised in heartbreak's suit.

This heART was born as I giggled at myself while on the elliptical machine at the gym. I had to work out with my phone on the machine's controls as I waited obsessively for a text message from Someone. Gotta have that phone with me....just in case said Someone texts during my workout though hours of previous phone watching had not produced such a text. I was looking for a sign. Specifically from Someone. Sure enough, during my workout texts arrived. From my mom. From one of the lovelies. From my colleague. Signs themselves, if I would allow them. My earphones blasted the popular Train song, "Calling All Angels" which opens with these lyrics, "I need a sign to let me know you're there." Yes, that is just what I need - a sign to let me know you're there....Someone!

Two seconds later the irony of the entire situation materialized as the idea for this heART was born and I stifled a real life laugh out loud. I made my own sign and posted it on the fence for me and for you. Just in case you've ever wondered or needed a sign.

I'm right here.

story behind the heART: did it hurt when you fell from heaven?

2011-11-25T09:20:00.001-08:00

This sign is for my tween daughter and her book club friends, "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

Honoring the age when girls have yet to be substantially influenced by media and cultural norms to alter their way of walking in the world, laughing when they want to and dreaming with new found vision.

story behind the heART: courage

2011-11-25T09:02:00.001-08:00

It is not just the Lion in the Wizard of Oz who needs a badge of courage. But at least he was aware and humble enough to set out looking for his own badge of courage.

On different days and at different times we could all use a bolster of courage, a booster shot, or perhaps courage borrowed from someone else. Sometimes we have to practice by following in someone else's footsteps or consulting an instruction manual.

Courage - here is some just for you.

story behind the heART: Lucky Stars

2011-11-25T08:57:00.001-08:00

These are a few of my lucky stars.

'if a shooting star'

'the skys a blackboard high'

We took a roadtrip to the Sierras to spend the weekend with our cousins and play in the snow. My kids were 2, 4 & 6 - the perfect ages for building snow people, painting the snow and being delighted with every sled run. The novelty of the cousins, makeshift cooking in our lodge rooms and snow activities were all eclipsed my my two year old's wonder with the night stars. Both being a city kid and generally being inside and in bed at night meant the dark nights unencumbered by competing light sources and the luxury of a vacation schedule brought a fascination with the stars as they appeared each night.

One night after the older two kids were asleep with their cousins in sleeping bags on the floor, my two year old and I went for a night walk. He listened to the crunch of his snow boots on the snow, holding my hand as he mastered walking with these giant forms on his feet. He counted the stars, mused as to their varying brightnesses then, reached up to me. "Hold me up," he said, gesturing for me to pick him up. I held him on my hip while his outstretched hand opened and closed, chubby fingers touching palm to make the familiar sticky sound. In earnest, he grunted reaching his arm upward. After several unsuccessful attempts to grasp a star, he explained in the quiet of the night "I need a ladder - a red ladder - and I climb up and get one."

Yes. A red ladder. What we all might do with our own red ladder.

This idea of grabbing a star and keeping it in my winter coat pocket has stayed with me. Often the form of a star represents to me a chance or opportunity, frequently a chance filled with grace. "Thank my lucky stars!" we sometimes say. Where are those lucky stars? Where is our proverbial red ladder to reach out and grab one? The illusive lucky star, the moments that give us second chances or highlight the grace of a crisis.

The idea of hanging my lucky stars on the fence is both amusing and an homage to the grace that surrounds us - grace that wants to find us if we will reach out our hand, or open our mind and heart.

These are a few of my lucky stars.

my love times 10

2011-11-25T08:26:00.001-08:00

It was one of those times I had to tell you over and over and over: i love you, too.

blitz of love on Valencia Street

2011-11-25T08:24:00.004-08:00

Expect Great Things: Mission Street, Excelsior

2011-11-25T08:18:00.000-08:00

Occupy Love

2011-11-23T16:52:00.001-08:00

San Francisco, CA--Occupy Love

a year of loving you back

2011-11-20T08:44:00.001-08:00

A year ago during the week before Thanksgiving, LoveYou2.org was born. The idea percolated for awhile but the website went live during the season of gratitude. It has been a whole year of loving you back! A year of signs. A year of writing about my love for you. A year of guest posts. A year of surprises. A year of painting heART signs. A year of being aware. A year of receiving & giving. A year of amazement. A year of fun.

A few of the highlights from this year:

The first guest post to the blog.
The first Facebook fans that were not my own friends.
The transition from posting signs quickly and secretively to being bolder.
Slowing down to pay attention to responses to the paper signs and heART.
Frequent guest posts and participants who became ‘regulars’. Some folks are just natural givers.
Beginning to see signs of love everywhere in nature and chance encounters.
Friends & family sending interesting links or photos related to this project with the note “This made me think of you.”
Being surprised with flowers on the fence, your stories, comments from passersby.
Finding my heART signs graffitied with more love.
A tour of the streets with an ephemeral artist I admire and learning to see the sidewalks, alleyways, fences and nooks in new ways.
The mystery artist hanging art on the fence. <3

My ‘take away’ from a year of loving you back? There is more, love. There are more ideas, more art, more ways to express, more people, more love , more hearts, more signs of love, more smiles, more Fridays, more love notes, more inspiration, more wood and paint, more time, more days, more dreams.

In the process of creating, exploring the edges of my ideas, stepping a few skips beyond my comfort zone, and embracing possibility I am very confident that there is so much more. Just enough, not too much. The future looks very bright. And full of love.

Here is a recap of this year of loving you back in pictures.

1,001 likes on facebook! what's next love?

2011-11-19T06:58:00.002-08:00

Expect Great Things: Alabama @ 20th

2011-11-15T08:55:00.002-08:00

i found your love at UHS

2011-11-13T12:35:00.000-08:00

Flurry of love posted all for YOU

2011-11-10T15:09:00.002-08:00

VanNess @ Jackson

Expect Great Things: Market btwn Octavia & Guererro

2011-11-06T20:56:00.001-08:00

Expect Great Things: Noe & Market

2011-11-06T20:55:00.004-08:00

Expect Great Things: Gough & Eddy

2011-11-06T20:55:00.003-08:00

more heART at the Growing Home Community Garden: Lily @ octavia

2011-11-06T20:55:00.001-08:00

Expect Great Things: Oak @ Laguna

2011-11-06T20:54:00.003-08:00

Expect Great Things: Divisadero & Oak

2011-11-06T20:54:00.001-08:00

Expect Great Things: Hayes & Divis across from NOPA

2011-11-06T20:53:00.000-08:00

LoveYou2.org QR code

2011-11-06T09:14:00.001-08:00

My love for you now has a QR code - easy way to find your way back to the love.

I'm excited for the next blast of heART - the wood signs coming soon to a fence near you - to include the QR code so everyone can share the love.

story behind the heART: Hello Again

2011-11-06T07:59:00.001-08:00

One Saturday across several soccer fields, I saw the figure of a woman I instantly recognized as an old friend. I'd not seen her in years but just from her walk, the way she flung her hair over her shoulder, and stood at the sidelines I was certain it was her. I went to where she was now standing in conversation with a group of her friends and waited for a pause in the exchange and simply said her name. Immediately she turned around beaming, her arms wide open and grabbed me pulling me tight, not letting go. "How I've missed you!" she said as she hugged me for a long time. Hello Again!

Bumping into this wonderful friend filled me with an incredible feeling of love that is stable - always there and never going away. Even though we both had hard stories to share as part of our catch up, she is the kind of friend that, though we've not spoken all this time, would hold my hand while I cried. Hello Again!

These blast from the past friends and remembrances give me assurance that I've collected the needed experiences and people on my journey. Hello Again!

But then I'm reminded of a part of my journey where I've struggled, when the shadow side of myself was bigger or when I behaved in a way that I'm less than proud. In these moments I want to shrug away, turn my back, avoid embracing that person or memory. One day I curiously wondered, why don't I figuratively run across the soccer field to that memory for the embrace? Why don't I shake hands with the shadow side and say "Hello Again!" "Hello jealousy, welcome back! I think we know how to do our dance." "Hello meltdown with the kids, there you are again!" Ok, perhaps without the exclamation point but isn't there some similar recognition of where I've travelled, a bowing to the Buddha of the experience, if you will.

I made this sign for myself as a reminder that all of the memories and reminders, whether they make me jump up and down with joy or require my courage to embrace, are indeed reminders and assurances that I have collected the needed experiences and people on my journey.

Hello Again!

for the ones who lost their voice

2011-11-06T07:31:00.002-08:00

In whatever form and by whatever means, this love is for the ones who lost their voice. It makes me reconsider how I use mine.

Chinatown, San Francisco, CA

2011-11-06T07:29:00.001-08:00

Of course, my love for you is now in Chinatown.

Love you

2011-11-05T21:09:00.000-07:00

Left my love at Summerbridge, San Francisco, CA.

Found at the Montgomery bart station

2011-11-02T21:34:00.001-07:00

Thank you definitely made my evening!!

(see full image)

Sent from my iPhone

this made me smile walking home today....

2011-11-02T16:10:00.001-07:00

seeing that you'd found my love for you.

I found your note!

2011-11-01T17:32:00.001-07:00

Financial District, San Francisco, CA.

Fairfax, CA

2011-10-30T15:26:00.002-07:00

Inspired by article in Ode magazine.
Fairfax needs some love, so I started this morning
10/30, by posting 2 flyers on my street.

THE JUSTICE OF GARUDA

2011-10-30T08:20:00.001-07:00

Six months ago, all I knew of Garuda was that it was the name of one of Peet's blends

of coffee beans from Indonesia. Then one day I was in the Xela Imports shop on 24th

street, looking for a small statue of Tara to place on the altar I was setting up next to my

bed at the firehouse where I work, and I told the owner of the shop that I considered

Tara to be the patron saint of paramedics. "Oh-- what about Garuda?" she asked. She

explained that he helped to rescue people, and the one small cast statue she had of

him showed a fierce eagle's head and talons on a human body, with a person riding on

his back amidst the fanned feathers of his wings and tail. I considered whether or not I

wanted to work with Garuda as I went out to feed my parking meter, but finding an ex-

pensive ticket on my windshield, decided I couldn't justify purchasing the statue that

day. But I did start doing research into who Garuda is.

A mythological creature arising from the Hindu tradition, Garuda has also found a place

in Buddhism, appearing throughout Asia from the Himalayan heights of Tibet down to the

islands of Indonesia. Half eagle and half man, he is the Vahana of Vishnu, one of trinity of

major dieties in Hinduism. In that tradition, some dieties have Vahanas, or mounts, whom

they ride as a person would ride a horse. Ganesha's Vahana is a mouse, and Vishnu's is

Garuda. The trinity consists of Brahma the creator, Vishnu the preserver, and Shiva the

destroyer. So, even though the figure on Garuda's back in the statue turned out to be the

god Vishnu rather than a rescued victim, their shared task is that of sustaining and pre-

serving the creation, redeeming us and rescuing us from our self-destruction, so that we

can go on in this world. I realized that while the gentle compassion of Tara may indeed

make her the most appropriate guide for paramedics, who seek to restore balance within

people, the fierce protection of life embodied by Garuda seemed to correspond to the task

undertaken by firefighters-- that of rescuing people from external threats to their lives and

well-being. The eagle heads atop our helmets that hold our shields in place, the outstretched wings on our badges and in the fire department seal, all took on deeper meaning.

As soon as I placed the statue of Garuda on my altar and began praying for his assistance,

I noticed a difference in the kind of calls I was getting. Instead of the low-acuity patients who needed reassurance, I was being sent on extreme calls where life or death hung in the balance. Patients who were clinically dead and it was up to me to attempt to bring them back or let them go. A man who rolled his vehicle on the freeway into some bushes and was impaled through the neck by a branch, who was still alive when we arrived on-scene, but after fighting like hell for twenty minutes to gain access to him, was gone. Another man who had alcohol with his lunch and whose blood sugar was extremely high, who "fell asleep" and rolled his car on a city street where children were walking home from school. He was uninjured and refused to be transported to the hospital, and it fell upon me to admonish him for not taking better care of his health and making better choices, lest his irresponsibility cost him his life, or that of someone else. I also encountered motor vehicle accidents on my commute home from work as never before-- some with fatalities, and all where that potential was close at hand. Working with Garuda meant working with a lot of energy, I was learning, where the stakes were high.

On the morning of May 18th when I arrived at work, I asked Tony Valerio, the off-going

Firefighter-Paramedic, if he could do a shift trade with me. I needed June 3rd off, and I

offered to work June 2nd for him if he could work the 3rd. As it happened, he needed May

30th off, so we agreed to trade the 3rd for the 30th, instead of the 2nd. May 30th turned

out to be the last shift I worked with our Lieutenant, Vinny Perez, as both he and Tony

were killed in a house fire they responded to on June 2nd. In the disorientation that

followed the loss of two of my favorite people in this world, a loss that could have so

easily been of my own life, I forgot that on the night of May 18th I had stayed up late at

the firehouse and bid on some items on eBay-- a Garuda medallion I intended to wear

while on duty and a miniature cast statuette of Garuda from Thailand, as well as a

beautifully carved wooden statue of Garuda from Bali. The seller of the wooden statue

had contacted me to apologize for not being able to get it shipped immediately, because

he was dealing with an "expected death" in his family. I told him not to worry, that it

sounded like he needed Garuda's help more than I did at that point. I was at the firehouse

dealing with the aftermath of the fatal fire when the statue did arrive, and my wife said

that she passed a fatal motor vehicle accident as she was driving it home from the post

office box. Both Tara and Garuda found a place on the memorial table we set up for Vinny

and Tony at the firehouse-- initially amidst a sea of flowers, but remaining long after the

flowers' passing. Tara is there to remind us of the gentle compassion that Tony was so good at embodying, and Garuda represents the fierce protection of life that was Vinny's strength. It's up to those of us who remain in this world to animate those qualities now, through our

own expression.

Ultimately, there may be but one God, but the energy that is Great Spirit takes on many

individualized forms as it moves through this world. Everyone reading this, as well as

every blade of grass and every rock, are some of those forms. Looking towards our source,

there are concentrations of energy that can assist, heal and protect us, so that we can be

successful in manifesting what we have come here to be. Call them what you want-- angels, guides, deities-- they love us and are available to help us if we but ask. Some we work with throughout our lives-- some for but an isolated moment in time. As far as my relationship with Garuda goes, I will always have a deep love and respect for him, and a gratitude for helping me through a very perilous and difficult passage of my life. Perhaps I'll work directly with him again in the future, but for now, I'm taking a break. This path became clear to me after the Garuda medallion I hung on the community altar at Chenery & Diamond in Glen Park disappeared. I know that whoever took it needs it more than I do now-- I only hope that whoever has it navigates their way through the high energy atmosphere of Garuda's world with good fortune and grace.

But more than the disappearance of the medallion, I feel that Garuda's place in my life was temporary because I was able to figure out what he was doing in my life, and I can now carry that wisdom from within. At first I thought that Garuda had come to me to help me rescue others. The outcome of that rescue being more often than not unsuccessful was confusing. Then I realized that he was helping me to rescue myself-- showing me time after time examples of the death that is the result of living life without respect for its sacred nature. The consequence of years of inhaling tobacco, of eating without moderation, of driving recklessly. We are forgiven for our self-destructive ways only for so long. If we fail to learn to treat ourselves and others and our lives as sacred past a certain point, well, justice will prevail, one way or another. We don't need to concern ourselves with rescuing others-- a task that isn't even possible. We need but to rescue ourselves from self-destruction, and all else will become clear.

Papergirl San Francisco

2011-10-29T07:49:00.001-07:00

Papergirl San Francisco is an annual mail-art and delivery systems art project that collects artwork from all over the world and, in the style of American paperboys, distributes the art freely by bicycle to people in the streets of San Francisco. Check out the amazing art submitted for this year's ride.

Papergirl SF volunteers are pedaling through the streets of San Francisco this morning. Tucked inside some of those art rolls is my love for you. Thank you Papergirl SF for your big dreams & hard work!

The compassion of Tara

2011-10-05T06:34:00.001-07:00

When I was nineteen I was involved in a serious motorcycle accident. I had been racing with some friends on a mountain road, crossed the centerline on a turn and hit a car head on. In the days that followed, the pain of the trauma I suffered began to fade, like the chemicals that develop a photograph on a piece of paper. What remained was an image of the interior of a helicopter, and the faces of the paramedics who rescued me and flew me back to the hospital where I'd been born, giving me another chance. My uncertainty about what career to pursue in this life had been replaced by the desire to turn the tables on my suffering, to put to good use the gift of my experience that made me better able to help others transcend their own crises.

The following year I took an EMT class, and got a job with an ambulance company doing transfers to and from convalescent homes. I spent time working in an ER, an urgent care clinic, and dispatching ambulances for a private company before getting to work on their 911 response units, with a paramedic partner. I still wanted more responsibility, so I went to paramedic school myself, working for a provider in a rural county for a couple years before getting hired by the public ambulance service in San Francisco, on the year of its centennial. For someone who wanted neither to be a firefighter nor an administrator, but merely work in the field as a line medic providing patient care, it didn't get any better than that. I'd been there a year or so when one of the twenty year veterans I worked a shift with told me about Tara.

As her legend goes, Tara was a bodhisattva in a prehistoric civilization on this planet, millions of years in the past. After many lifetimes, when she finally reached enlightenment, she did so in a female incarnation. As a female buddha she became a manifestation of the divine feminine. She is the buddha of compassion, who can rescue us from our fears and move us to a safer place. As such, Tara is the patron saint of paramedics. Since learning that, I found a medallion of Tara at a Tibetan Buddhist shop in the city, and wore it around my neck every time I went to work and wore a badge on my chest.

Tara helped me do my job for more than fifteen years there. Because I found that for all the procedures that paramedics can perform and all the drugs they can administer which sometimes prolong the patient's life, all that is really just an excuse to be able to be there with people in their crises. To be able to offer them kindness and comfort, to reassure them that they will get through what it is they're going through-- even if their physical body doesn't-- to distract them from the burden of their pain with lightheartedness, that's my real role. Both on the superficial physical level, and the deeper emotional and spiritual levels, I strive to competently do all I can to help alleviate their pain, stabilize their crises, and transport them to a higher authority for further evaluation and treatment. But I can't save anyone's life-- the best I can do is to give them an opportunity to save themselves. Whether they heal or not isn't up to me.

When an altar appeared on a fence in the neighborhood where I now work, I decided one morning when I was getting off duty to hang my Tara medallion there instead of in my locker. I figured that the people there trust me to protect their lives, why shouldn't I trust them to honor what I hold to be sacred as well? When I drove by the altar on my way to work a few days later, Tara was gone. I stared at the blank space where she'd been, and felt like I was staring into the blank eyes of a friend who had died and wouldn't be coming back-- I was going to have to go it alone now. I went through all the stages of grief over the loss-- denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally, acceptance. Whether it was a school kid, adult kleptomaniac, or Tara herself who took the medallion, they obviously need it more than I do. Besides, it's probably my own karma coming around for all the shiny things I coveted and stole back when I was a juvenile delinquent. Any intense experience we have in this life with another person, it seems like sooner or later we wind up experiencing both sides of it. The other thing is that to give something to the world as an offering-- and wouldn't it be best if everything we did was done as an offering-- is to not expect anything back for it. No particular result or reward, no return on an investment, save for the joy that comes from helping someone else.

I wound up getting a small statue of Tara and putting it up on the altar, in an attempt to turn the other cheek. Because it would be pretty inappropriate to remain in judgement of the thief of an emblem of compassion, after all. Whatever we have to pass through to get there, in the end we have to come back to Love. To that place where there's no you or me, just one spirit moving through this world, coming to know itself on its way back home.

more love at: Growing Home Community Garden

2011-09-28T22:10:00.003-07:00

Super, heart-feels-like- flying fun to see what others have written since I last went by. And I'm still grinning because someone left one for ME! What a complete and amazing surprise to walk up and see my name & a note on the fence. Thanks, love. You made my day!

There are fresh 'i love you' cards on the fence at Growing Home Community Garden (Octavia @ Lily in Hayes Valley, San Francisco). Swing by and add your own love note!

FOR THE LOVE OF GANESHA

2011-09-20T16:28:00.001-07:00

The house I lived in from birth until I went off to college when I was eighteen was on Ganesha Avenue, so I naturally associate the elephant-headed diety with home. Lord of new beginnings and remover of obstacles, it only makes sense that my life began there, on that comfortable middle-class suburban street in Southern California, where in 1967, anything was possible.

But as time goes on, we make choices in life that limit our possibilities, and create obstacles that must be overcome to live our purpose of becoming our true selves. We accept the hereditary demons carried by our parents-- the fears and negative thought forms they couldn't heal in themselves. I rebelled against them when I was a teenager, wanting nothing to do with that self- contained life of the complacent consumer, sucking resources to fuel a life meaningless beyond itself, seemingly contributing nothing of value to the world. I was as the Steppenwolf, torn between the comfortable familiarity of my origins, and yet rejecting that empty existence. But without accepting the point we start from, it's not possible to move anywhere else.

It wasn't until having a child of my own at age forty, the same age my father was when I was born, that I realized how much of his ways I had internalized, for that which we disown we are bound to become. Hearing his angry voice come from my own mouth, feeling his self-doubt and pessimism in my heart, was nearly overwhelming. Living in a small house on a suburban street in Northern California with a new family, feeling like my dreams had been finally snuffed out by the weight of mundane responsibility, I realized that as much as I tried to be different, I had inadvertently re-created precisely the life I wanted to have nothing to do with.

Sometimes in order to heal into the wholeness that we once knew when we were God-- and will know again when we make it home eventually-- we must create an obstacle in our lives that we cannot overcome on our own. One that no amount of rational thought or any kind of external technology or material solution can affect. We reach a gateway that we cannot pass through without surrendering our self to something greater, putting all our faith in our prayers. I was at that point when, hiking on some property in the mountains we were trying to purchase, I stopped at a huge old growth redwood stump, and offered my self to be the human steward of the land, if mother earth would allow me to serve there. Against all odds, we did find ourselves the new owners of the property, eleven acres of redwood and oak forest, creeks, meadows-- and a dilapidated house that needs to be rebuilt. No obstacle is ever removed without another appearing on the horizon, as long as we live in this world.

It wasn't until we were hiking on the land with my mother some time later, that we passed the redwood stump I had prayed at, and she said, "Oh look, it's like an elephant's trunk!" Sure enough, the way the thousand year old tree had eroded and been burned by the fire that was set a hundred years ago after the area was logged to rebuild San Francisco after the earthquake, left a piece hanging down like a trunk. And I realized, it was Ganesha I had been praying to. Tears welled up as I felt such gratitude for Ganesha's love-- guiding me into this world and removing my self-imposed obstacles, bringing me home again.

Someday my parents-- now in their eighties-- will pass on from this world, and it will be my task as their only son to sort through a life's worth of material possessions there on Ganesha Avenue. I'm not looking forward to that, but I'll face that obstacle when it comes up, with Ganesha's help. When my wife and son and I took the train down to visit them last spring, there was an Indian woman traveling with her mother and son, who was the same age as my son. When I told her about the Ganesha shrine I was in the process of setting up in the redwood stump, she said that where she was from, if a tree even remotely resembled an elephant's trunk, people would spontaneously set up a shrine to Ganesha there, leaving flowers and offerings. So, when an alter appeared on a chain link fence in the neighborhood where I work, I felt it was only appropriate to place a small figure of a dancing Ganesha there. For all the people who live in that neighborhood-- the new ones who ride past in their strollers and the old ones who shuffle past with their walkers, and everyone in between, that the love of Ganesha may help them auspiciously begin each new moment of their lives, and help them remove all the obstacles they will find in their paths.

"i love you" cards on the fence at Growing Home Community Garden Project

2011-09-19T21:28:00.002-07:00

After I posted wood signs at Growing Home Community Garden Project, one of the staffers posted an invitation on the i love you, too Facebook page for people to come by and add their own love notes to the fence.

I could not resist and returned with 'i love you' cards & safety pins to hang a few of my own and left a baggie of cards and pens for passersby.

I returned this last weekend to see what, if anything, had happened & was thrilled to snap some pictures of the cards left by others now fluttering in the wind.

I love you because you let me.

I love you Luke.

I love you even when it hurts.

I love you because you go for what you want with full force & that radiates in you.

I love you even when you are being a jerk.

I love you my sister.

I love you because you make me happy.

I love you because of the fun we've had with fruit waffles.

There is a new bag of 'i love you' cards and pens on the fence. Make your way to the Growing Home Community Garden Project in Hayes Valley, San Francisco to hang your own card. It's like the 'I love you because....' Fridays on our Facebook page - a madlib for your heart. Fill in the blank and see what happens when you say what you love or why you love - its amazing when you put it out there the different ways the love finds you again.

spreading the love at the tower of London

2011-09-16T06:47:00.001-07:00

heart hands billboard

2011-09-15T21:25:00.002-07:00

loving these photos on billboards, bus stops, the BART station. inspiring!

You're the one I wanted to find

2011-09-12T16:21:00.002-07:00

I luv Bo

2011-09-05T18:49:00.001-07:00

to passersby: love life

2011-09-02T10:52:00.002-07:00

found in the sidewalk.....

i love you and your plants

2011-08-30T09:36:00.001-07:00

i spy heART: Hayes Valley Farm, San Francisco

2011-08-27T18:08:00.001-07:00

What's not to love about Hayes Valley Farm? A solar water pump, reclaimed city block, thriving plants, repurposed old windows in the garden, and lots of volunteers - I like!

i spy heART: Hayes Valley Growing Home Community Garden Project (SF, CA)

2011-08-27T18:02:00.002-07:00

Growing Home Community Garden's mission is to provide a community garden where both homeless and housed San Franciscans work side-by-side to grow nutritious food, access green space, and build community. The garden's fence art has inspired me many times. Now the Ben Eine "Great Adventure" mural watches the garden in a prophetic way.

i spy heART: Hayes Valley, San Francisco

2011-08-27T17:50:00.002-07:00

story behind the heART: TIME

2011-08-24T22:39:00.001-07:00

TIME

time passes

time stands still

time stops

time flies

suspended in time

time heals

back in time

time slows

The TIME piece is difficult to photograph but one of my favorites.

Over several months, I was incredibly conscious about my experiences with time and made an effort to pause in the moment and savor that current reflection about time. I collected the thoughts and played with them until they turned into these phrases (now stamped on rad metal tape sent for this project by my fabulous sister). I was curious how this process would feel similar or different to my experiences being conscious of love - both time & love are intangible, necessary elements that we seek after but can't buy.

Like exploring my various relationships and experiences with love - being conscious of time has made me ever appreciative of the abundance of 'just this' moments and opportunity to choose to be present in any situation.

What experiences would you add to TIME?

Famous: A poem by Naomi Shihab Nye

2011-08-24T20:00:00.001-07:00

Famous

BY NAOMI SHIHAB NYE

The river is famous to the fish.

The loud voice is famous to silence,
which knew it would inherit the earth
before anybody said so.

The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds
watching him from the birdhouse.

The tear is famous, briefly, to the cheek.

The idea you carry close to your bosom
is famous to your bosom.

The boot is famous to the earth,
more famous than the dress shoe,
which is famous only to floors.

The bent photograph is famous to the one who carries it and not at all famous to the one who is pictured.

I want to be famous to shuffling men
who smile while crossing streets,
sticky children in grocery lines,
famous as the one who smiled back.

I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous,
or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular, but because it never forgot what it could do.

story behind the heART: Love is louder.

2011-08-21T06:50:00.002-07:00

I first wrote "Love Is Louder" early in the LoveYou2.org journey and keep it as an anchor post on the right side of the blog. Here is an excerpt from that writing, telling the story behind the "Love is Louder" heART.

I know that simply living in this vibrant world and being conscious of current events puts us in frequent contact with stories of tragedy, divisive messages, and marketing that sells unattainable perfection. While these negative elements compete for our attention and shift our focus, there is something else I know – Love is Louder.

Now, I don't think that these signs will end war. We still need to stock our food banks and teach everyone to read. There are vaccines to be developed. Justice is not universal. There is real, important, critical work to be done. But I do believe that hope is a rallying call, and sustaining for those working to make the world a better place.

Sometimes it takes a little love to pull on the marching boots one more time. Of course it is love when we take a deep breath and say from our heart, "I am so very sorry." With love can come the acceptance we are seeking for ourselves or for others – the kind of love that fills up space so that there is no room left for hate. A little hope, a little love can inspire one to do more, to try again, to believe that change is possible, or remind us why, in fact, we do this work at all.

Thank you for joining me in sharing the love. Love really is Louder.

i spy heART: Narberth, PA

2011-08-16T06:43:00.001-07:00

There is a lot of love in Narberth, PA.