Hi friends,
Okay, between that talk above and the stories and songs below, I kind of packed this note like Santa’s sack—overflowing with a bit of everything, from toys to tangents. You might want to grab some hot cocoa; this is one to nestle into. Think of it as my holiday special.
Here we are, seven days to Christmas, and I am leaving for Deleware to give the Holiday talk at Awakened Hearts Spiritual Center. I have been a guest speaker in many communities and conferences over the past two decades, and it is always an honor. But this talk will be slightly different because I will also be the musical guest.
This past year, our theme at SpeakEasy was Service that Sings. It’s the perfect note to end on! I’ll be performing a couple of original tunes. One is below in the Dessert section for your listening enjoyment.
If you happen to be in the Deleware areas, please join me.
There is also time to try out our FREE WEEK of daily LIVE coaching calls on Miracles LIVE 365. Or if you know you are ready for a soulful deep dive into miracles, sign up for the year. Miracles LIVE 365.
What you can expect.
Daily live calls to kick your day off in spiritual practice.
Recordings are sent to your phone or email if you miss the call. So if you sleep in, you can still stay the course at your leisure.
A beautiful community of love-minded friends who become the type of friends that let you sleep at their house and borrow their car… I’ve seen it happen.
An underground railroad of new friends who live all across the world.
A clear and easy way to remove the blocks to love.
A beautiful way to stay accountable to all that your soul has been wanting to bring into form. So basically, FREEDOM from self-sabotage.
Peace of mind, clarity of purpose, and happiness.
See for yourself by gifting yourself a free week FREE WEEK.
Here’s my mad ramble about being naughty and nice.
I Can Keep a Secret… Now
I spotted him at a holiday party mid-bite into my fourth cake pop (yes, fourth). They were double chocolate, nuff said. He was perched atop the china cabinet, arms crossed, wearing his signature smug smirk. I swallowed hard and wondered who invited this Buzz kill. I am all for salt on the caramel, but why do we need to deck the halls with surveillance and sinister glares? Haven’t we been through enough?
Honestly, I’ve always had a beef with Elf on the shelf. It’s off-message for a season of love and good cheer! But as I shoved a fifth cake pop in my pocket and glared back at him, I heard a phrase we often hear on our A Course in Miracle calls.
“You spot it, you got it?”
Well, I’ll be damned if this lil fucker is not my ghost of Christmas past. As a kid, I was the world's greatest tattletale, so much so that I garnered the nickname “Brenda Star” after a cartoon character who was a reporter. My five older sisters would clam up in my presence and quickly inform each other. “Shhhh. Brenda Starr is here.”
When I told my mother my sisters were teasing me, they shortened the nickname to “the reporter.”
Being the youngest, I was often excluded from the mischief and misdemeanors that my sisters cooked up daily, whether it was shoplifting candy, smoking out the attic window, or throwing out our mother’s leftovers so as not to endure them again. And this exclusion was not always personal; being younger, I was not as agile as they were, I had not developed my poker face, and I was not yet schooled on the nuances of hoodlum ways.
They tried, and I was a quick study, but inclusion came at the cost of innocence. Nevertheless, I grew up fast. Kids can’t keep secrets, so I knew about Santa, the Easter Bunny, and the birds and the bees way earlier than I should have.
At six or seven, I told my mother my sister had given me “the finger.” She looked at me with false curiosity and asked, “What does ‘the finger’ mean?” I was earnestly surprised by her cluelessness, so I generously and gently explained to her how a man and woman… Her eyes grew to the size of plates, and she twisted and contorted like a cat trying to avoid a tub of water. My lack of innocence broke her brain a little. She freaked out, sent us all to our bedrooms, and spent the afternoon pacing the living room while murmuring prayers and scraps of incomplete sentences. “I never knew a thing…” “How in the world have they…”
So, in the end, spilling the tea was my way of being included. I wonder if this is how some of us become writers. It was not a role I would have asked to play. Being bad is one thing; it’s kind of fun, adventurous, and thrilling. But outing the badness feels terrible. You get nothing out of it except for ostracism and a few cool nicknames.
Over the years, I’ve learned how to keep a secret. Something about the weight of a whispered truth, the courage to trust someone with confidential facts, changes you—makes you feel included but also responsible like you’re carrying someone else’s baggage in your soul. Spilling the tea might have felt like a shortcut to belonging, but it left me feeling empty, ashamed, and much lonelier than before. I realize now that keeping a secret isn’t just about staying silent; it’s about respecting the fragile humanity in someone else’s story. And maybe, just maybe, it’s about learning to protect your own heart, too.
In some ways, my life has been one long living amends for the secrets I was not able to keep. When I think of them, there is a sting of remorse and a ridiculous wish to turn back time and muster more maturity and integrity.
As I stare back at the Elf, he seems less vicious. His cocked little head and pirate smile makes him seem more like a whimsical whistleblower with rosy cheeks busting at the seams withholding all the secrets.
I reflect on my inner scrappy six-year-old who knew too much and was not always successful in holding her tongue, and I find a wee bit of compassion for my blabber-mouth ways.
Love, Maur
Dessert
Three servings of dessert!
Cool cars are like mistletoe; they make you want to kiss. Someone foolishly parked this sweet ride outside our homes, and like two Christmas hams, Will and I had to take the photo op.
Sharing my untraditional spin on the Little Drummer Boy has become a holiday tradition. If you know a little person… you might want to invite them to listen along. And then, of course, the oldie but goodie, Santa Claus Disguies.
Enjoy Dessert!
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