Tangerine Dream

Tangerine Dream

“My car is Tangerine Dream. I like to drive fast. I’m ninety-two. I don’t moan, I do my exercises. No one sees me without my makeup. It’s the first thing I do every day. I am in my last days and my daughter Lyn is taking lessons. She doesn’t wear makeup. This is why she needs to learn how I like it when I can no longer do it for myself.”

Kathleen was ninety-three when she passed. I met her in 1998, she was seventy.

Our first conversation at the age of seventy was about releasing what was holding her back. Our last conversation at the age of ninety-two was about releasing, to prepare for going forward.

When Kathleen took up the quest to wake up, many feel it is too late. Many decide that it is time to coast, to just let it all be. ‘Let sleeping dogs lie,’ has been the expression.

Not Kathleen. She knew she had issues. She knew that on some level there were things that needed attention. She was scared, but she didn’t allow her fear to get the better of her.

Kathleen’s background was not about looking into matters that made you sad or angry or confused. She was from the “stiff upper lip,” “no airing your dirty laundry,” “be thankful for what you have,” “what will people think?” generation. You didn’t delve, you didn’t upset, you didn’t dare speak out or up. You did keep quiet, you did keep up appearances, you did do what you were conditioned to believe, was the right thing. But in truth, this conditioning is never right for anyone.

Kathleen didn’t succeed at keeping the lid on, as the appearance of everything being ‘fine’ for the sake of others was wearing thin. 

It didn’t come out in one fell swoop or an ear crashing scream. It came out slowly. Tears and talks. 

Years would pass and Kathleen would be in contact and she’d take another step. Actually, it was more of a leap. 

Kathleen had things she needed to say to herself and to her family. Her daughter Lyn, another very brave being was there for her, to allow her to say what she needed to say and Kathleen was also ready to listen, as Lyn had things to share as well.

Two women with different perspectives on the same story. Both willing to hear the others interpretation.

They talked, they cried, they laughed. They loved and they allowed each other their spin on the story of what they had both experienced but viewed through different eyes and hearts. No one needing to be right, only needing to know and be heard.

Whether you are twenty three or ninety three Life asks us to heal, to release, to free ourselves of  the fear that holds us back from our truth.

Kathleen’s last days were filled with time to put things in place, cry and laugh and say goodbye to family and friends. Time for her to come to terms with the truth that she needed to say to herself, that she was loved.

Kathleen closed her eyes and passed ever so lightly up and away, just the way she wanted.

Lyn now sits behind the wheel of Tangerine Dream, smiling for she takes with her the legacy of Kathleen. 

Driving (not sure how fast) never moaning, hair flying free, bare lips and cheeks, learning and growing, dealing with the mess and embracing the delights of Life.

To Kathleen, a powerful woman, a beauty, a peaceful warrior – a creatrix.


Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

This ancient phrase originated in 13th century. Later in 14th century, it was used by Geoffrey Chaucer in one of his books which says it is good to avoid waking up a sleeping dog. ‘Let sleeping dogs lie’ derives from the long-standing observation that dogs are often unpredictable when they are suddenly disturbed.

Perhaps true, but Life is not meant to be lived sleeping in order to avoid the unpredictable. Life is about waking up and at times being shook up to come back to Life, to you, your story, your truth.


Photos by; Lyn Glanfield Bravo

Tangerine Dream, Subaru Crosstrek

Source;  Let Sleeping Dogs Lie, Google, of course.


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