Tuesday, November 24, 2009
I was recently at a dinner party, and being the person not from the region, I was asked where I called home. Without missing a beat I replied, “Where my heart is, for the moment it is here with friends.” The person asking the question who I later nicknamed ‘the Griller’, was in no way pleased with my response. The people next to me, one to my right and left, understood right away, on my left, a hand came up laid itself on mine. A soft – “Good answer, Thank you.” ; it came with a warm smile and eyes that danced. To my right well, we both continued to smile as, ‘the Griller’ continued on his path of interrogation till I said at the moment I reside in Maine. Which I had previously informed him, for he had said he has friends in Bar Harbour, Cape Elizabeth, and Harpswell;
Thought most of that is not what’s important it is a setting for the stage of what came up for me later on my returning drive toward ‘home’. As some of you know I moved around a lot as a small person it was the nature of the beast for my family. When I had a child to raise, I choose to stay in the same small town, though I will admit we still moved a fair amount – I wasn’t used to staying put.
On my trip to see my friend who sat to my right, I had found myself caught in a vortex of being lost and taking the wrong; yet not so badly placed turns on a very dark, very rainy road, called the Saw Mill Parkway – this was supposed to be a short-cut. Ah, only when one knows the way. I did not use this way home.
Yet, all of this got me to wondering, if we all find the path to our Heart, a winding road, a difficult meandering. To find ourselves, does it always take longer? And how is it that we come so far away from the core of who we are that this road back to us, must even be traveled? What is it in our humanness that we set out to seek? How is it that we lose parts of us, along our life path, that then we drive hundreds of miles away from ourselves looking to find who we are? That we make relationships with people, who may or may not look or seem like us on the outside, yet inwardly we know that some of these friends will be with us till the end.
That there is no need to be other then us? [Come now – we have all found ourselves acting a part to fit in, at some point –remember being a teen.] That we are perfectly – imperfection!
So, I find that I am still holding space, a Sacred Space within that is my HeartHome. I find it most often with others that are close enough to know all the prismatic parts of me and alone. Those moments of Being, connected in ways that have no words, a rightness. I give Thanks that I am have been able to live a life full of traveling toward this adventure of knowing me. Of having the luxury to make time to seek and find the HeartHome of me. To fully take in the gift that is me. And yes, there are days I am still driving to find that person. I am so very Grateful for friends, who are real, with patches worn thin, filled with a curiousness to know more of life and themselves and me. I hope I gift that back in a way that they know what I mean.
I invite each one of us to take this journey, I will again note that it seems to be a road with many funny turns. Some full of laughter so deep tears run down your checks, roads that seem to be full of the ‘mundane’; the everyday-ness of being that we wonder could this be all there is? Then there are the roads marked with Grace. Others so painful we cry rivers of tears till we find ourselves laughing with a stitch in our side. And yes, some roads simply are. We find ourselves traveling in certain sets of circles, is this our HeartHome? I wonder, I turn this question over to you. Travel safe and wild on the road to you. I will keep the fire warm, the candle lit waiting for your return. I hold you, friends in my HeartHome, wrapped in warmth and laughter.
photo taken in Bethleham, PA Nov '09 by me just down from 'Cupcake G's'
Friday, November 13, 2009
What it does is it preserves another’s Dignity. Our turning away as if we don’t see them, says they are less then nothing~ unseen, unheard. They are also part of a Divine Grace. Though I am not sure how or why this is part of a greater plan. I know that it is.
I am learning that it cost me more to turn away. That the tears that run down my face, as I walk away, after I have stood for a few minutes allowing a homeless person a chance to tell me a little about themselves; because I noticed them. Was nothing compared to what it cost them to see that I noticed them, then gather themselves enough to call after and follow me as though they might know me.
At what cost did I look him in the eye? Did it hurt me to stand at a corner for a moment to hear his story as I walked to meet a friend for coffee? He asked for nothing more then to be heard, something I take for granted. I have a voice. Who will have voice for the voice-less, the silent?
I sit with a heart heavy, I told him I would listen, would buy him coffee in the morning, he would need to meet me. For I will not give out money . I picked someplace I knew would be safe for me, what about safe for him? He would need to trust that I would in fact be there. How much would that cost him? I am feeling more then what he was willing to chance. He wasn’t there; nor did he arrive in the time I was there.
I can’t answer for him. I am only able to recall a saying… “There but for the Grace of God go I.” Dear Creator, as winter draws near I ask you watch over those that for what ever reason, Veteran , mental illness, loss of job, family find themselves homeless and on the street. I ask that you guide my eyes, my heart to look in their eyes. Remind me of how much I have, not that which I do not.
“There but for the Grace of God go I.”
Thursday, November 12, 2009
So first of I would like to note that in Power and from a place of Power are two very different stances. The second is the one that has me Whirling around the juicer of Life. Because the two stances are often mixed together, the out come turns toward women, myself included oft times shrinking away from taking charge; though our inner compass tells us we are the person best suited toward the task.
I find and would invite us to notice that when that place of the Itchyness shows up, it is our inner compass telling us to put our Heart and Soul back on the tiller, the rudder set for a course that allows us to be held in the face of the storm, our team at the lines, helping guide us. I believe that all humans get that itchyness when they let go of their core or the Source of their inner knowing.
It is also my belief that as a culture, as the race of Humans we must put the Heart back into how we do things as a community, government, even business. It is from this place of caring for each other that will in fact Co-create what it is we are Envisioning. It is from a place of heart that a clearer vision can come forth. That we are invited to as Michael Meade calls it the ‘World behind the World’.
I would ask that we all look at how much courage it takes to be in a connection to our Source, to notice when we are in that place of Itchyness, and how it doesn’t serve us.
I would also ask that we look at these questions – inviting ourselves to a new way of Being. No one is free while any one of us is enslaved.
What might it look like when I choose to see my power as a friend/Allie?
How have I diminished that friendship over the years?
Might I notice the beauty of my power?
When have I been IN power yet not En-powered? How did that feel.
What is at the Heart of my Source?
I would like to note that most of this showed up on Facebook on a Discussion board at SheChanges. A little differently as my voice there was purely from a place of being a Women. And though I do not see our Enpowerment as a gender issue; I do find that in my experience People IN Power, do not necessarily come from a place of Being in their Power. Giving them the change to Abuse their power, children, women, and those that are different from those IN Power often suffer because of this.
May we all some day walk in a world that invites us to be connected to each other with love, hope and the Grace that we were born with.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Our body, the earth both love it when we eat what's truly in season. Due to the wonder of planes, and world travel we are now able to eat all manner of fruits and vegetables that are either out of season for us or don't grow in our area at all. This is something we have learned to take for granted. Yet, nature has a way of growing and having available to us what it is we really need or crave in the season.
Fall and Winter are all those wonderful root vegetables and cabbage. The bounty of Winter Squashes. All are here during this time as a Powerhouse of healing. They have an amazing amount of vitamin A- a anticancer crusader. Also topping the winter food list for vitamin C and fiber. Hell-o potassium to boot. All of these help in the fight for colds, flu, and other winter maladies. As root vegetables, another thing they help our bodies do is ground. Keeping us planted during the season of dreams. Adding chili peppers or ginger also help our immune system.
Before they are cooked they don't take up valuable refrigerator space either.
All this said, let me share a base soup and then give you some options on different ways to play with them, to create different tastes. Now that you've got the idea ~ see what you might do.
Basic Winter Squash Soup 4-6servings for lunch or dinner 8 - if soup course
1 med size squash,(butternut, acorn, buttercup or Hubbard)about 2 pounds or a small pumpkin
1 TBS butter or olive oil
1 onion -diced
2 stalks celery
1 -2 large carrots
1 clove garlic
4-6 cups stock either vegetable or chicken.
salt and white pepper to taste.
Start by baking your choice of squash/pumpkin - to do this you'll cut it in half, take out the seeds with a spoon, place face down on a cookie sheet with- the oven set for 350 degrees, bake for about 30mins or until a fork inserted through the skin slides in easily. (Baking the squash/pumpkin gives the soup a richer taste- though you can make the soup by cutting the squash/pumpkin into chunks instead, and simmering them till soft)
Meanwhile - as the squash/pumpkin bake. Dice your [onion, garlic, celery and carrots]. Heat your soup pot - hot pan, cold 'fat' the food won't stick - throw in this [mixture] and sauté till onions are transparent. Set aside to add baked squash/pumpkin.
Add stock - *tip don't have stock~ easy fix ~to make a quick make shift one- take the peelings from the [mixture] add a potatoes or two chopped, throw into 4 cups of water simmer while the squash/pumpkin bakes. For easy stock I save the bits and pieces of onions and things -no broccoli or asparagus - in a container in the freezer for this sorts of moments- makes a richer stock. Strain you now have 'stock' -if you choose not to bake the squash/pumpkin due to timing needs throw the peelings into the stock pot as well.
When squash/pumpkin are ready - dig the wonderful 'meat' from the shell, add to the [mixture] pour in your stock cook on low heat for about 15 -20 minutes. Let it cool till lukewarm - now it's ready to be mashed or run through your 'quesy' (food processor). Reheat add salt and pepper to taste, serve topped with fresh parsley, scallions and or curtons.
*tip to make a heartier and heart healthy - to give it that creamy texture of heavy cream, blend in a small can of cannellini beans ( sometimes called white kidney)rinsed and drained - or about 1 1/2 cups soaked and cooked. This can be done to most soups and gives it a milky look without the dairy. A way to add more fiber - nobody knows but the cook
Changes to make something fancier.
Curried Butternut Squash
Follow basic recipe adding:
1 large apple
1more clove of garlic
1 finely chopped Anehiem chili
1/2-1 teaspoon Cheyenne pepper-this is a matter of how many stars
1-2 Tablespoons Curry Powder
optional - add 1star anise.
Roasted Red Pepper and Squash Soup
Following basic recipe add
2 large red roasted peppers
1/2 -1 teaspoon Cheyenne pepper
to roast your peppers- place under the broiler till skin turns black - gently pull this away from the pepper throw into the soup you can also roast a third then chop it as a garnish.
Following basic recipe using pumpkin add
2 Apples, like Courtland or Crispin - something with a lot of snap -Granny Smith could also work
1/2-1 teaspoon Cheyenne pepper
1-2 cinnamon sticks (this is a matter of taste- optional
replace 1-2 cups of the stock with apple juice.
Basque Pumpkin and White Bean made easy
Following basic recipe using pumpkin add
1 leek chopped and washed
3 more cloves of garlic
3 fresh sage leaves or 1/3 teaspoon dried
1 can cannellini beans -rinsed and drained or 1 1/2 cup cooked beans
you are not sending this soup through the 'quesy' - stir the pumpkin in well to incorporate it then add beans
garnish with fresh parsley and fresh ground pepper.
Hope to hear about some of the results! Have fun ~ love what you are cooking the food knows as do the ones who eat it. As Julie would say Bon Appetite!
Saturday, October 31, 2009
May this be a Blessing.
No matter the name you may use to celebrate these days October 31st – to November 2
We are headed toward the end of the cycle of growing, we look toward the end of the harvest as the Earth prepares for Winter here in the Northern Hemisphere.
We take this time to Honour our Ancestors, to Honour the Dead and Dying.
Yet we are also faced with the Season of Seeds of all that is to be born.
Nature gifts us with the next year’s
Potential as She ends this turn of the wheel, the Season of passing.
With this Blessing before us let us Light a Candle to guide the Souls in their unrest that they may find Peace on their Path home.
Let us Light a Candle, Holding our Intention for the Seeds we hold in our hands, let us enter this Season preparing our Dreams for our Winter Sleep and Gestation.
May we hold in our Hearts the Mystery and Beauty that surrounds us, finding Peace in the stillness yet to come.
It is said the veil between the Worlds is thinnest on these days, walk gently, walk with Compassion, Walk in your Truth.
Grateful for the bounty of Gifts.
Let us share our Gratitude with our fellow travelers.
Blessing to you, my friends
May your road be long and crooked, may you have food for both body and Soul.
May you know that you are made of the Stardust of Generations come,
gone and yet to be.
Blessings to you this Night.
Happy Happy Halloween!
Monday, October 26, 2009
Sleepless in wonder and joy. I spent most of the day outside working on a garden space that is meant to surround a Wind Turbine, turning the earth to prepare it for the shrubbery that would cover the base and bring again a sense of beauty to the eye as it looks out of the house toward Potato Point.
Yes, I am sleepless with Joy, the sun kissing my skin, in a t-shirt on this gloriously warm autumn day here in Maine. As I worked I spoke to the Earth as is my costume, I found myself also taking to the air surrounding me telling it that the space I was preparing was going to be in Honour of the Power it gifted the house through the energy created. During this process, a slight breeze began to pick up, to caress me. How is it that I have never noticed the wind noticing me? The gentleness of the Wind’s touch, as new lover, lenitive as it danced with my bareness, yet there was also a familiar-ness as with an old love. For me it was the Wonder of the Wind noticing me, clearly ~ I am opened yet again to the Other. That which we as humankind see outside ourselves, without motive or feeling. What better motive then to notice that which stands in front of, and speaking directly with you.
Yes, I am sleepless with the Mystery of the day. Sleepless in Wonder and Joy! I am awestruck with all the gifts the Divine Nature of the World offers up, when we take the time to notice.
I am happy to be sleepless in this wonder. Honoured and Blessed.
Yes, i am sleepless and I am wondering how often we may lay awake not in stress or worry, but with the wonder of the mysteries of the Universe that we are so blessed to be a part of. I would invite us to the place of wonder with what the Night may have to share with us, weather in dreams or our being awake to the sounds of the night. The beauty of the day having filled us so, we are to 'ampted' to sleep.
posted first on FB have added a few lines.- I give thanks to my daughter for the picture of me in my youth.
I send a kiss to the wind from my hand.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
This morning I am struck with a wonder at how fragile we are, how wounded and inflicter we can be. I am also in Awe of how we as humans have so much Resilient elasticity. Grateful indeed for the Fragility and the Resilient-ness of our nature.
I don’t see things in so much of a dualist way. For all the parts, of our Being-ness make up who, whom, how we present to the world. How we present, then changes as our prismatic Being has either more light (a.k.a. people; at least in this part of the greater story); or darkness (a.k.a. people –same as the opposite). We shift in our perspective as they need arises to add or subtract those around us. As a quick ah-ha, think of what happens to you when you and a close friend are out having coffee in public, heads moved in toward the middle of the table, and someone else walks up and starts including themselves, feel that slight shift in your Being? That’s the prismatic-ness of our Being.
Events in our lives have the same effect. They leave a trace element of themselves with in our Being, this is something I have witnessed time and time again, as a body worker, friend, lover, even the traces for better or worse that I have left as a Mother. Bottom line we ALL have those places, events, people as part of our Being and being Human-kind.
Again, I am struck by how Fragile we can be and why aren’t we told of this as we decide to come flying into the world through the birth canal? Sure would have been useful information, at least if you ask me. Yet to this Fragileness, there is also a great Strength of Courage. Courage taken from the Old French cuer –Heart.
It is in those places that we are most Fragile that we find the Heart to open ourselves to those around us. To give, receive, and BE. They are the places I believe that turn us toward our own Compassion; that then in turn Awaken us to our deepest growth, fears, laughter, sorrow, joy, fits of angst and the very depths of who we are as part of a greater whole.
These places of our fragileness, also seem to be the wells of elastic-ness. The places that we go to in silence, tears, laughter, confusion to then spring out Resilient and ‘new’. Sometimes we call upon those we know to help guide us toward and through our Fragile nature till we come forth, perhaps more guarded, or more open.
We each have our own time and way in which this happens. What might be right for one of us doesn’t necessarily work for another. I feel that one of our biggest jobs as Human-kind and as friends in particular is to Show –up to our fellow Human – Beings. To be a witness of their story. To listen and invite the Fragile parts to show,
From the Velveteen Rabbit – by Margery Williams (this starts at the point when the Skin Horse and the Rabbit are talking)
The Skin Horse had lived longer in the nursery than any of the others. He was so old and most of the hairs in his tail had been pulled out to string bead necklaces. For nursery magic is very strange and wonderful, and only those playthings that are old and wise and experienced like the Skin Horse understand all about it.
"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"
"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."
"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.
"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."
"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"
"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."
"I suppose you are real?" said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive. But the Skin Horse only smiled.
"The Boy's Uncle made me Real," he said. "That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always."
The Rabbit sighed. He thought it would be a long time before this magic called Real happened to him. He longed to become Real, to know what it felt like; and yet the idea of growing shabby and losing his eyes and whiskers was rather sad. He wished that he could become it without these uncomfortable things happening to him.
Indeed. I wish for all of us to have this experience of the Fragileness of Being Real. What an Awesomeness there is, in our Resilience and in our Fragileness. Our very day Being-ness. Inviting and allowing for all the parts of us to show. Yes, even when for a small amount of time we may show anger. That too is being Real, just not part of this story today.
Off to my Fragile self. Knowing as I prepare the gardens for winter, they are a gentle reminder of how Resilient the Divine Nature of our Being truly is.
once again a foto by the famous T. Griffin see her work at:http://www.flickr.com/photos/tirzymcwirzy/
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
I’ve been reading a book on punctuation; Eats, Shoots and Leaves by Lynne Truss and it seems the thing we Americans can a ‘period’ the British call a ‘full- stop’.
What has me going around this phrasing is that at the moment we are headed into Autumn. A time of equal day and night; almost like the Earth stops moving in it’s orbit; so that day and night can dance together a bit. More dawnish or sunsettingish time; those odd in between times. Sun is raising, Moon still hasn’t really set; or the opposite of; the Moon is clearly on the rise as the Sun is just setting; the Chariot ride across the sky a little off timing wise. The period/full-stop, have also to do with time, as in stop, it is now the end of the sentence, take a breathe, that’s it, begin anew.
The changing of the seasons have that effect as well, some more then others. Such as Summer into Autumn, Winter into Spring. Both of these shifts have that equal day and night sort of thing going on, plus there is a rather drastic way in which they happen. As we are presently in that summer to autumn shift; (leaving the other for another whole blog). I would like to purpose that our bodies, need, want, down right crave that Stop. The Breathing space, the time for pause. We go all summer, busy bee doing. As, the autumnal season arrives we are ready for a break. This year for me I am noticing that there is also an agitation that seems to go with this shift, of not quite knowing how to BE.
We forget, sometimes; unless we are farmers, to notice what we have harvested Spring to Fall. What dreams and plans did we lay in the fields to dream, hibernate and prepare for blooming in the Spring? How many did we follow through with to bring to the Harvest to share with those around us? What intentions did we set for the dreaming season? Or as one of my mentors says, “What kind of Corn are we growing”. Is it, was it something worth sharing?
As we begin this Season of going inward, I would like to invite us to make our Intentions clear. We all have things, places in which we can bring the light of our true nature to it’s Awakening. What places within ourselves might we also shed, like the leaves of a tree, leaving our self bare, un- encumbered; ready to dream our self into a new becoming.
Blessings to you fellow travelers, as we head inward to do more of Being, instead of Doing. It is good to be in the world with You. I am most grateful. Happy Autumn!
photo taken by me at the Farmer's Market in Deering Oaks
I would also like to apologize to Ms Truss, in the event that it appears that I have learned nothing about punctuation. It is through no fault of the teacher.
Friday, September 18, 2009
I wish to Thank you all for your love, your kindnesses, for the very fact that you ARE!
I pray each day for Peace to cover us all in her arms flung wide.
I pray that nobody need go hungry, tho I am not so blind as to know this is not so. I pray some day that it will be past.
I pray that we can take in those events in our lives that have formed us and be Thank full for the gifts of learning.
I am blessed in my friends, my loves, my clients. I am ever Thank full for waking each day!
I wish for you all that may be in your Highest good.
Great Mother -Great Creator, I ask that you watch over your children and guide us toward our clear path. Thank you for your love.
May we find things to be Thank full for each day of our lives, large and small. Sweet and simple as a child's smile.
I wish you a very Blessed Day!
Silence of the heart is necessary so you can hear God everywhere -- in the
closing of the door, in the person who needs you, in the birds that sing, in
the flowers, in the animals.
-- Mother Teresa
this piece was written in 2004 - no less the truth of it!
Photo taken in Lori and Bob's yard.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Some days, the possibilities seem to roll in and right on over; at least for me. There seems to come an opening that happens when we shift our thinking to take in a new thought or a new project. I am finding that I need time to sit quiet –not so much talking about – to really stew, percolate, marinate in the info being presented.
Like any good creation – what then needs to be added or taken away? What item will make the whole thing come together. A feast for the soul? Do we allow ourselves this kind of time?
I am finding that there are a lot of area of our lives in which we push time, we want the answer right now. SO…right now; that we miss the ‘watermelon seeds’ laying about. We leave out some important item, the things I call the givens. Well, I am finding that my givens are not necessarily someone else’s. Sometimes it is a gift not to know all the rules of a thing- it allows for more movement, more risk taking. I have found this to be true in a few areas of my life.
My invitation is to allow time to work – to give space to the process, no matter what process it is. Be it love, the throes of grief, a decision that you are pondering. Have you listened inward, felt how the new place feels as it rolls around inside. Was there ample time to taste of the bits and pieces?
Now to go back to the quiet and the pondering.
Blessings to all.
my feet in Puerto Rico - Steps Beach 09
Monday, September 7, 2009
The world is brought back from the brink of destruction-
Every time YOU smile.
From a bulletin board in Rincon, PR
How is it that we lose sight of belonging? That we find ourselves disconnected from the greater whole of the world? We can make up all kinds of reasons, some of the least of them religion, language, the way we might look through the eyes of another.
What if we could invite ourselves to the notion that as Beings living on the Planet Earth, we are indeed connected by the fact that we each feel the vibration of each other under our feet. Have you ever laid on the ground or the floor and felt the rumble of another’s foot steps as they walked toward or away from you?
Recently, I was gifted an opportunity to lay on the sand and at the ocean of Puerto Rico I watched as the tides came in and out, floating in the warmth of the water, feeling small. Thinking at one point about the fact that I was in a weather pattern that was part of a tropical storm; now the reason this is an important fact is that during this time of year, we in Maine are lucky if the water reaches 63 degrees. Here I was laying in water that would be pushed by the storm up, around the coast of Puerto Rico and on up the eastern sea front to the beaches I call home. With that would be the essence of me, carried home. My friends still brave enough to get into the ocean, would have a change to feel the whisper of me and the warmth of the water I was swimming in!! The ripple of Humanness in the Ocean, not only could they feel me, I too had a change to feel them, knowing that this Ocean I was in has traveled round and round, top to bottom. How long must that journey take?
I was also in a country that the native tongue was not English, but Spanish. How far a Smile, Ola, Gracis or a simple nod of my head could take me. We are indeed of the same family, we all wish to be acknowledged; by noticing another we ourselves are given Form.
I suggest a world wide “Wednesday Wave as you Walk Day”. Or a Smile a Day, keeps us connected to the ripple of life. For our smile, moves from our face to the next face which causes another smile and it continues to move like a tide. Smile at someone you don’t know ~ Make your Day a better day.
Blessings to those that laugh, smile, sing, cry and share the treasure of their Human – Beingness! I am Blessed by Being given form in the noticing of others. Thank you, friends!
photo taken on the beach in Puerto Rico or is it Maine?
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Little lessons learned. Each day brings it’s own challenges, struggles and joys. What is it that we take away from those moments? It all depends on how we choose to take them on. Are we going to buy all that is laid out before us? Take it home even though we can clearly see that it doesn’t fit?
Little lessons learned. Some come round on a return; perhaps something you knew; thought you’d walk that old way again, see if the outcome would be different. Shocked, I tell you. Shocked, when it gives us the same answer or knowing that we all ready have deep set in our bones.
Little lessons learned, perhaps in truth they are little treasures offered. Opportunities to look at the way we ‘react’. We allow a certain amount of complacency to enter our Being, then wonder as it all backs up to and end that is not what we were thinking or planning. We forget that it is not all about ME. That sometimes we are doing our best; when we find ourselves caught in others mood of being. I feel that what is important at those moments is that we see ourselves outside of who we are striving to become. That we invite the opportunity to gift us little gems of wisdom. Life is a practice.
To find compassion for our self, to know that it is not our place to point out to an other how it is they could be doing it better. We can only offer up our Being and walking our talk, wearing our own growth. This will in turn show someone not near as ‘enlightened’ as WE are how they might find a different footing. I found it is also not my job to point it out, try to force change; what is my job is that I take to heart my personal learning and grow. That I may leave a path of gems, worth stopping to pick up, hold, looking at what it may offer and then continue to be in the moment that is now in front of me.
It is my job to be attentive to how I could act in right relations with the world around me. This is as I see it our most important job of BEING. See if perhaps for today, we can allow each person we come in contact with to be right were they are, for in fact it is right were they are and need to be on their personal walk.. Invite the ripple that comes from you to be one of compassion for ALL, yourself included.
Little lessons learned, what a treasure! Feel the gratitude for these precious moments. I live in abundance. I am blessed.
Not sure who took the picture at Chris and Jan's
Hands belong to Debbie G. and myself.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Before I get wrapped into this sharing let me state a few things about myself. I live alone, I come from a largish family – there are 5 siblings, I love to read; (3-4 books a week-sometimes more), I have two children, but only one that I had the Wonder and Mystery of being raised by, I am a vegetarian by nature; ( longer now then I was ever a Carnivore), and I love to cook for others.
Recently my friends have given me stories on food, so far in the past 2 months I have read- The Sharper your Knife the Less you Cry, Julia and Julie (perhaps that is the other way around and indeed I saw the movie), Comfort Me with Apples, My Life in Food. In the past if the title of a book had anything to do with food – well of course I read it!
Food memory is Powerful! I think I would put it right up there with our sense of smell. Which of course is a very large part of food itself. Certain foods can take us back to moments long pass, fill us with dread around the Holi-daze; who doesn’t have some food story that wraps and weaves itself into the making or breaking of the Holiday? Willingness to try new unfamiliar foods, can catch in our heart.
Rules around the dos and don’ts of food, usually ethnic and religious in their beginnings. Then there are the ways to eat certain foods. What makes it a finger food? Or cultures, where the utensil is a food in itself? Chop sticks, spoons, forks and knives? What is the social implication of how we eat, fast, slow; (we’re the last one eating). Enjoying every bite as we savor the smell, taste, gifting gratitude for the food itself. The beauty of it on the plate. The feelings of the person preparing and the love that the food was given as it was planted, given birth?
There is also the recipe – cookbooks and are you a sharer? Or do you guard the ‘family recipe’ like a treasure that nobody but Aunt Edna had and at her passing You were the one it came to, now it falls on you to protect it. For me I am a recipe sharer if I make something that you want to know how to make I am glad to share with you. I will even give the changes I have made to a recipe so that you can see how it became what it is now.
Which brings me to the recipe at hand, it holds many memories, it is one of the first meals my former husband Griff ate at my mother’s table. My personal memory is my mother, Trudy wanted the poor man to eat more. I fixed it first for my daughter after she returned form her father’s one time – he had shared his story of that dinner; I’d been a vegetarian for a number of years by then so it wasn’t on the top of my list. Ok, we’d invite friends. It is the meal that I am most often asked to make by both my daughter and grand-daughter. In years past I have been known to make a batch, freeze it and send it home on the plane. One year I heard that Huntyr’s smiled and said to her parents as she got off the plane at the end of her summer visit – “I have Rouladen in my luggage!”; even before the hello. Yes, it is indeed a recipe with a story in my family.
I invite you to share your story of some dish that opens your heart, that says Love in the depth of your soul. I wonder if this recipe holds as much weight in my sibling’s story. For me it holds a sense of wonder and love that was my mother. I would invite us to touch base with the creative nature we find in food. Many blessings be at your table today and always. Where is it that you find a love story told by food? Eat with this love in your Heart and all food will nourish your soul.
Grandma Trudy’s Rouladen
Know from the beginning you are not making this dish for tonight – but for tomorrow. It truly makes a difference. Call ahead to make sure the butcher is in and can cut this for you. As it is somewhat labour intensive I plan ahead for a 2nd meal.
Top Round sliced very thin- count 2 slices per person
Pickles – cut into 4ths planning on a quarter per slice
Bacon- one slice per slice
Onions- cut into an 8ths –1 each per slice
A good mustard
Salt and Pepper
Last nights red wine or open a bottle- don’t make it cheap!
I roll my pickles and onion slices with the bacon, then lay out the steak. With your steak laid out spread with mustard, sprinkle with salt and pepper. Now roll your BOP bundles up in the meat. Trudy wrapped these with thread, I find it easier to use a wooden tooth pick.
As you roll them, sear these meat parcels in a very hot pan. I usually throw a couple of pieces of bacon in the pan to help with a touch of moisture and fat. As they are seared all round, put into a larger stew pot. When they are all in the pot, pour a water into the searing pan to get all those yummy juices. Pour over meat in stew pot. Add a little more water if need to just barley cove the meat. Throw a splash or two of wine in, this will later become a matter of taste. I pour the wine in the now empty mustard jar shake to get all that goodness from the jar. Bring this all just to a simmer hold there for about an hour. Turn off. Cool. When cool place in fridge, remember you’re making tomorrows dinner. Serve with boiled small potatoes, cooked red cabbage.
My hands a picture taken by T. Griffin while she and I fixed this dish
Saturday, August 15, 2009
I started to look at this all a bit closer recently as I was putting together a menu for a retreat that I am blessed to be the Honoured Kitchen Diva. I thought about the food I was preparing, the quality of that which would be purchased; the attitude that would stand in the kitchen. I was struck suddenly with a realization of what a privilege it was for me to be able to fix healthy food, to feed others with love and care.
Healthy food. Food that would feed not only the bodies of the women attending, but their souls as well. It got me to thinking that yes, even the fact that we would eat three meals a day is a true luxury and privilege. I thought back to food I didn’t like as a child or didn’t want to eat. When I was told there were starving children around the world, my constant retort would be – “Then send it to them!”
Yet, here I am today working again on my menu for a weekend – that in itself is a privilege. That I have the time to ponder and am not having to be out forging for some scrap of food that is covered with mold. Having had my morning meal of oatmeal, and a cup of Joe. I could come back to my computer or pencil and paper working out the details. I also did not have in the back of my mind a worry about shelter or food, the very basic of rights for all living creatures. I could sit in the Joy of the process. Able to conjure the scents, colour and textures.
I count myself blessed to know the luxury of hunger. Indeed it is a luxury when you find yourself hungry and know that it is fairly easy to change the situation. How might my life be different if I had to wonder how I was to find my next meal, not what I would be eating, just that I would be able to eat?
To share a meal, to gather together to meet a basic need. To cook and prepare a meal with love in my heart. To honour how the food made it to the table, the work that went into the planting, harvesting, getting it to the market. Even living alone, we can take a moment to be grateful for the food in front of us. To notice what it is we are eating, even when it happens to be a bag of potato chips. To honour the gift of physical nourishment.
I ask that we give some thought to the places of our own privileges. How might we bring a more grateful heart to those places? I don’t have an answer, other then to suggest that it is in the noticing, the being present to them. To invite ourselves to experience the privileges we have completely alive in the moment.
Blessings to you. It is a privilege to be in the world with YOU!
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Oh, she put us in the basement
We sobbed and cried
No, no please not the basement
We'll be relegated to be lost forever more!
Inside of closets, hidden in boxes
She might, just maybe
But the basement?
Relegated to be lost forever
How could one women own so much
The hordes of music, shoes and art stuff
That could, would, SHOULD become
She gets fractured, needs to be anchored
For it all to become clear
She might, just maybe
Love anchors her
Holds her safe.
Open us all, pass on what's needed
Wanted else where
Turn us to Beauty,
De - clutter us all
Banish her to the basement
Send her there to do her art
Relegated to the basement
Will she then be lost forever?
Hidden from sight?
This house fills with Love
Spills out in measures untold
Anchored, she will bloom again
Be seen, be held, be heard
Relegated no place,
Everything in motion.
So rest for a bit in the basement
You are not lost forever
You are waiting at the boat yard
Waiting to embark
Relegated to the basement?
A closet? A box?
I THINK NOT!
as you can see this is an older piece - read it to a friend and wanted to share it here - Thank you AL
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Grief is an emotion or a sense that we don’t often take into account. It comes in to play at the loss of a loved one, or the end of a relationship. There are other times as well, some that it seems odd that it would be there. Moving for one. Yet do we recognize it’s effect or sometimes how long it is that we are living in a low grade version? Our society wants us always to Move On, Let it GO. We want to hide away from the uncomfortable.
Today ~ August 8th, is one of those days for me. It is an anniversary of the loss of my Mom; and oddly enough at this moment I can’t say how long Trudy has been gone. For me – today and when ever I need to say, “Oh, my Mom has passed on.” I find myself feeling like an orphan. I find myself raw!
I find that other events of grief seem to all come together in a bundle when I’m in the moment and clutches of Grief. I am also grateful for those moments, the tides of my truly blessed Life. There is a certain amount of luxury that comes with being able to feel and be in an emotion. To sit with and be consumed by the feelings. To be in the belly, the pit of fire, the tears that wash us clean.
I am also grateful for my Friends, that do not judge this about me, they allow the space I need. They give a gentle call here and there –“touching base”, to bring me into the rest of my world. I am an isolator when I am deeply in emotion. I feel the need to hide away, for it seems that most of society does not want us to FEEL; we are labeled too intense, too much. I laugh easy and cry just as easy. I am grateful and blessed by friends that can live with both of these full body responses to Life. I am always struck by how difficult it is for some folks to be around any kind of display of emotion. Our labels of these places of emotion, place a judgment of good or bad upon an event, a moment in a life. Why not invite the BEING in the whatever it is?
Today, I would invite each of us to remember to tell those close to us that they are loved. For one moment they are here and then everything changes. I would invite us to live our lives as fully and as present as we can. To not hide away from joy, sorrow, grief, laughter, fear. I believe it is easier to be with these places that are uncomfortable when we allow ourselves the time needed, instead of ‘moving on’. There is time enough for moving on and past. That comes from living into the moment, allowing, inviting all the bits that belong to the moment and perhaps some that don’t to be pulled out and looked over, touched and given space. Planting seeds of joy, compassion and kindness upon the hurts, the sadness. Let the rains fall, inviting growth.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Plants always remind me that we live in rhythms and cycles. For me the summer begins and ends around the visiting of my beautiful grand-daughter Huntyr. She is a summer child. Born in June days before the Summer Solstice. As we near the time of her arrival each year I find myself in Labour, a kin to the labour I was witness to on the night of her birth. Who will arrive? How long will the time to birth our bond take this year?
At this point summer began, full of rain bringing with it the sunshine smile of Huntyr. She too was somewhat a drift with her coming this summer as she is one- a teenager, two- in transition form the place she has called home for most of her life to her Dad’s childhood place of belonging, and third- who is she becoming and what has Gramie cooked up for this years offerings? Remember she’s a teen now – not as malleable as in some pass summers.
Sharing our own places of sadness and growing there were days when little was said between us. Days of laughter and new experiences; tarot cards, going to a medium, a Despacho Ceremony. A couple of movies and days at the beach – ok – the beach now as a teen became boring! I mean really who as a teen wants to hang on a beach with their Gramie? Days spent with friends of mine who share a desire and love for sewing and cloth. Huntyr, all but for the final quilting worked on a collage with fabric piece that is amazing. Leaving me a box of wonderful scarps of fabric that she gathered – like summer sand and shells they linger here for the moment.
Mom, my daughter arrived late June, and off into the east they did head; with the setting Sun. Taking with them my first stage of summer; leaving a storm of emotion. Loss, quite, a happiness, tears. One would think that having done this for so many summers I would be used to this cycle, yet each time it rolls around it catches me unprepared. Which causes me to wonder~ there are rhythms and cycles of life that we live within. Each time they come around they are different, to be experienced a new. Feeling all there is to the moment, to the time given. I wonder also; did I share with both my daughter Tirzah and my grand-daughter Huntyr how much I love them. Are they able to feel it in their bones, their very being when not here with me. And why is it that just before the leaving there is always some blow out of words, that strike the heart bringing fear. Does it still go back to being able to become independent of our parents? Does it smell of abandonment – knowing they will be leaving, the breakaway wave. I am grateful that Tirzah and I have learned to Breathe into these places, knowing the Love that is shared. I am hoping that the next time we are together; perhaps this cycle will no longer need to assert itself.
With the beginning of my second summer I was left in the quite to look at what cycles no longer serve me. Which ones are a rhythm to a song I no longer wish to sing? Ah, yes here it comes my invitation to you, my friends ~ What cycles are you part of that no longer serve you? What song do you wish to be singing. Can you invite yourself to a rhythm of compassion? How about Being, allowing yourself, your humanness? The days we fall out of sync with our song; gifting the time needed to be out of practice. Knowing there will be ‘…terrible, horrible, no good very bad days.’ (Sometimes just moments.) And afterward we will go back to our practice of Life and have wonderful, amazing, fabulous days. With our Inhalation we can invite the Divine, to fill our hearts and on the Exhalation as it is meant to do release that which does not serve.
i took the picture on my way home form Elsworth during the Monsoon Season.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
So many thoughts and things I thought to write. Too long away, I've been from myself to sit and write. Some days are like that, the days stringing together lost pearls, knots forgotten as they slide along the string of my life.
I ask that we are kind and compassionate with ourselves as those days, turn to weeks and sometimes even turn to months. What then who holds us when we can not hold ourselves? What force of nature invites us to put one foot in front of the other, when we seem not to know our way?
Opening my arms, I am held by the air, my toes barefoot sink into the deep softness of Mother Earth. Indeed I can feel the love that lingers in the wind. My friends voices as they whisper there love in prayer. I am blessed.
Some days are like that one foot, one breath, there is love, there is life and I am grateful that it holds me in it's arms.
photo taken 4th July by CO'C- thanks for sharing ML
a reminder that all is as it is meant to be - trust.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Treasure hunting on a Tuesday morning.
Others had no need of the items
And others - the joy to be able to have them.
REcycle, REuse, REgift, REnew
It becomes a Treasure in someone else's life.
Thrilled by the voices in Community
Thrilled by the colours of these proud people.
Joy and Laughter fill the Tuesday morning air.
I want to join in, I am working and only can listen as the joy passes by.
I wish I could have understood the words
Rich Rainbow Riot of Voices and Colour.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Both events cause turmoil, they can come as a part of a couple, a relationship with a friend, even at work. For myself and for friends that I’ve spoken with there is a shock-like state, unbelieving. A feeling of freezing in one’s movement, as if glued to the spot. Sometimes for only the briefest of moments, other times months upon months. No matter at which end of this event you are standing. I.E the receiver or the giver, for like it or not there is a gift that is given when one of these events happens.
Which brings to my mind a very curious state, when does the pressure or the fraying of the weave and wrap of our lives happen. More exactly how is it that it begins and we don’t notice it. That slowly, ever so slowly the threads and lines that are part and parcel of our everyday start to ravel. I am feeling that there must be clues, a call that goes unheard, unnoticed. I am wondering why and how.
To make it easier to follow my thoughts I will use the unraveling/fraying as I write, for I see it from both the storm and the unraveling; in my own life I have been with it in both ways. Neither less then the other in the impact it left behind. But we are peoples who forget that sometimes for there to be change Nature creates a Hurricane. We like to pretend that there is not that force within us. I will invite you to think again, but that is yet another bailiwick; better left for another time.
If it is a relationship of two it has me wondering – how do we expect the other to notice that something has gone amiss, when we our self have not really noticed the small unraveling or the fraying of the lines. Sometimes I feel it might be a word or a look that has changed, we make a choice to leave it unnoticed. To continue as though nothing at all has happened, it seems easier that way. Might it not be easier to make note, and create an invitation to dialogue? Not necessarily in the exact moment ~ I’m not feeling like it’s that easy! The simple “ I am wondering if you want to talk – I noticed, how I felt when….”. Of course bringing it back to us is sometimes difficult, we are feeling shocked, hurt, un-heard? To open a dialogue it is always best to bring it back to us.
The weave of story that makes us, gently frays. Perhaps, I feel-think that it begins with a small misunderstanding, or where our story lies over the weave of someone else’s that the unraveling happens. Mostly I feel that we don’t notice till there is a small hole, fixable with the help of two. Sometimes it seems that by the time we notice that there is a ‘wrongness’ in the fabric the hole is full of hurts, unspoken or fought about. Almost to late to have any conversation. Yet, I want to believe it is never too late, parties willing. I want to invite and encourage us all – attempt to have the conversation. Give some space, for ourselves as well as the other. Clear our thoughts, take the breath that helps ground us and exhale what is not needed in the moment, allow, follow this process till we find a stillness. Then create a time to dialogue.
I suppose what I am struck by for myself is that I have recently become frayed, and it was a friend’s question that made me notice how frayed and unraveled I had become. A slow unravel, one that had seemed to have gone unnoticed to my own psyche, or not? I suppose that here in lies the whole thing is how do we/I let the connection to another fray, and not notice or choose to look away as though it INS’t happening. I see where we need to be vigilant of what we allow to come in to our weaving as well as what we might send out to add to those in our circle. I also see how fragile we are as humans, yet also how strong and resilient we can be. Seems to me it is all in the attention we hold for what is important.
I invite us to notice more, the feel of the wind, it’s whisperings in our heart. That we may indeed make the time for the important conversations of our Life. Living into 100% of us and our creative natures.
Photo of clouds by T. Griffin – image name storm brewing
Thank you for being a part of the weaving of my life.
Friday, April 10, 2009
We cry out for Vision, the thirst of Dreams, for Love~ it is important to remember that these things come to us in stillness. In the spaces between the rhythm of our daily doings. Invite yourself to those moments when the ordinary and ‘mundane’ can and do become the extraordinary.
It is here in the spaces that we find the Mysteries. Spring ripe and full of it’s own Becoming. Mother Earth, not sure if she is ready to wake; rolls over and says, just a bit longer. “Children please!” When she throws off the blanket of Winter, the showers come. April showers -bring May flowers.
Wait, it is coming soon – we will find Mother Earth dressed in all the finery that is hers. Colours we have forgotten, sweet surprises planted. Wait my friends, it comes soon.
Robin red-breast has been spotted. I have watched the birds courting, I have felt it in my bones. You can smell the freshness, of new possibility. What dreams will she share with us? What mystery is there unfolding that you have yet to notice?
What dreams do we have to share with her? What did you hope for during the long winter months. What spaces did you leave, for something new to come forth? Tell me your wishes, your desires and I will tell you mine.
Spring a time when the ‘ordinary’ indeed becomes the Extraordinary!
Happy Easter! Blessed Passover! Oster is here!
Monday, April 6, 2009
Yet, we do come into being because of touch. We spend the rest of our lives in some form looking for, longing for the touch that was our becoming. Yet, we find ourselves more and more moving away from forms of touch. Human touch. We touch our computer screens to send letters, write articles, text message instead of showing up to sit with a friend. Our contact with each other moving to smaller and smaller amounts, in terms of human touch.
How many of us remember the advertisement – “Reach out an touch someone.”? It was a phone commercial, yet it became a line we used regularly. Or how about ET’s glowing finger as he touched the little boy saying –“ ET phone home?” Yet as he said it he usually touched the finger of a human. ET himself needed physical contact be it human or that of his race; as his heart light showed. We too need contact- physical contact. Why is that we have moved so far away from the very thing we crave?
I wonder what we have all become so afraid of; that we move away from each other. In all most all things. When was the last time you sat down and wrote out a card in ‘long hand’ to a friend, for the sheer joy of sending them a note? No real reason, other then to say HI. Or instead of talking to them on the phone perhaps a walk or cup of coffee for that a talk and hands across the table. Touching a friend with your eyes.
Have we allowed our lives to become so busy? And what is it that we have become busy doing? My Space, Facebook, Twitter? We are putting out in the world fairly ‘personal’ information or are we? Is it easier without making eye contact? I wish to ponder this for myself as well.
For today, I wish and invite each of us to really ‘Reach out and touch someone’. Make contact with the person you get your coffee from today. Or some random person gift them with a Smile; contact. See how far it takes you to feeling more alive, more in touch with your humanness.
Blessings, may the air around you leave it’s soft touch on your face this day.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
In March the earth remembers its own name.
Everywhere the plates of snow are cracking.
The rivers begin to sing.
In the skythe winter stars are sliding away;
new starsappear as, later, small blades of grainwill shine in the dark fields.
And the name of every placeis joyful.
The season of curiosity is everlasting and the hour for adventure never ends,
but tonighteven the men who walked upon the moon
are lying contentby open windows
where the winds are sweeping over the fields,
over water,over the naked earth,into villages,
and lonely country houses, and the vast cities
because it is spring;
because once more the moon and the earth are eloping
--a love match that will bring forth fantastic children
who will learn to stand, walk, and finally
run over the surface of earth;who will believe,
for years,that everything is possible.
Born of clay,how shall a man be holy;
born of water,how shall a man visit the stars;
born of the seasons,
how shall a man live forever?
Soonthe child of the red-spotted newt,
the eft,will enter his life from the tiny egg.
On his delicate leg she will run through
the valleys of mossdown to the leaf mold by the streams,
where lately white snow lay upon the earthlike
a deep and lustrous blanketof moon-fire,
And yes, YES, the equalness of day and Night most often at this time of year known to us as Spring Equinox has arrived; unless of course you live at the equator. Then you are still waiting.
Thank you for sharing AW
Monday, March 16, 2009
Eventually, when we look back on our existence, we see it all as a blessing, so we thank God for the fear, we thank God for the doubt, we thank God for the anger. And we thank God as each form of negativity becomes unnecessary as a response in our lives.- John Morton
Sunday, March 15, 2009
It seems to me that most often, it comes from a place of fear. Our very survival feels at risk, though changes are it’s really not – yet it feels that way. Our feelings or instincts go…LOOK OUT! Run, fight or freeze. What is our standard choice. Which one do we must often fall into? I know for myself I am a ‘freezer’ - it is as if I have run into a wall or am held in suspension. My new habit is to sit with it and in it, and respond later. Versus my old way of reacting in the moment with emotions on Dangerously high levels. This period of time of sitting in/with either causes it to blow out of proportion or sometimes it offers up a change to take a breath and see that it is not at all as I supposed, this does not necessarily change the way I felt/feel. It is an opportunity to step away from the curtain, blowing voices and smoke. It is an Opportunity. The outcome unclear. Invite yourself/myself to Breathe. ( This way we know it’s not about survival.)
Though I step away, doesn’t mean the reaction is always perfect. There are patterns that I am fairly well entrenched and entrained to. Oh, yes, they do indeed limit me, I am not in a state of denial around this fact. They are places of our deepest wounding They are the chances for our greatest growth; sometimes our greatest alienation from our fellow Humankind. It is an Opportunity, still ripe with possibilities. Continue to Breathe.
These are the places I find most difficult for while I am in a struggle with them, there is the need to protect myself – sometimes and sadly in the old way. There are some that I call friend, who I am able and willing to say, “ I’m hurting, scared, and I can feel myself reacting in a way that is not useful to either of us”. If I am on the phone this usually gets from me – “I need to hang up now”. Which is what I do. I then take a breathe and regroup. My friends, know that this is me. I need to be able to Breathe come back to center. I will return. In person, I do the same – sometimes my stopping to regroup and take a Breath in and of itself can seem daunting and I am always, always filled with Gratitude when people can stand and be with me in the process. It takes courage on both sides of the issue to be in it. Not always perfect. It is still an Opportunity and continuing to Breathe is always a good thing.
I am also immensely saddened when others, that are not actually part of it all get caught in the middle. This hurts me beyond what I have words to express. They throw water or light hoping to change what I/we are feeling. Why is it that we find strong emotions so difficult to be with? Primal as they are, we wish to pretend that they do not belong to our ‘enlightened’ way of thinking. Yet in fact they are the very basis for that ‘enlightened’ way of becoming. Opportunity!
At this moment I would invite us to be gentle with each other. Allow and listen to our friends and those we hold dear to be in their own stew. Let them cook. Allow then to be right where they are, let there be no mistake ~ I believe that all parties involved are receiving what it is that will lead to their greatest opportunity of growth. Yes, SL even when part of the group may be feeling crushed, hurt. If all of our life is covered in a sugar coating – what reason do we have to move? To grow? To change the way we interact? Sometimes it is the air being sucked from our lungs and the room around us that teaches us to stand up and be counted. To have a clearer voice. Once again an Opportunity.
Know that all who are reading this are deeply loved. I thank you for hearing my voice and inviting me to my continued Growth and Possibilities.
Friday, March 6, 2009
How little I knew! How little I know now, some 30 years later about raising a child! Yet there is so much in this journey that I have shared with many women, those that came before, those that are Mothering now, and those that are yet to come to the job.
Things we weren’t told about, the how’s of our hearts breaking, when our child lay sick in our arms. Trusting that WE, a mere mom would know what to do. The Joy so overflowing, we could not contain it as we were told, “I lube you, mommy.” Not only the first time, but every time there after. What it is to watch your child sleep. The feelings, I have no words that will express fully what it is to be a Mom.
Nobody told me, did they tell you? That we would not be raising a child, that this child would be raising a Mom. Each human- child, wild, comes to this earth with rare unique gifts. Gifts to share with us, the Mom that carries them into this place living and breathing.
Here are some of the gifts I received, I learned that being on time is NOT always the most important thing. It is more important to hold and hug a little person when they come to us. Turned away from, we learn quickly they no longer want us.
I learned what it means to be right in the moment. To listen with all of my being as a child, told me a story.
I learned that it takes magic, made of laughter, tears, and friends mixed with a ton of prayers, to raise a child. I raised an “only” as she calls herself, my mother 5, “God, save the Queen!” I learned patience. Take a breathe or two or three, we both might make it through this event yet.
I learned that life and each moment is precious in and of itself. Once lost, they do not return. I am most grateful for all the memory pictures I hold in my hearts album.
The greatest gift I received, is Love, I learned that Love is a two way street. I learned that it comes unbidden, it hides in smiles, in the learning how to tie a shoe. It even comes in those teenage years when we think we might find ourselves facing murder charges if they don’t grow up soon. I found in laying on my dresser, in the form of a clay butterfly. I find it lurks in a telephone message from my child, “hey Mom, call me I need the recipe for…”. I also find it out in the larger world. My child opened my eyes, my heart to the beauty around me, to the people that made and make up our family.
I am the person, I am today, because as a women I was raised a Mom. With or without our own children I believe as women we become Moms to the world at large. It is the gift and the heritage we are given.
I beg that we do NOT turn away from this most important job. For if we do, who then will be there to hold our hands, when we with knees scraped, need to be held?
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Love is a many splendid thing.
Love makes one see the world anew.
Love in Bloom.
Love is Blind. (IS it)
Love of money.
Love as a Driving force?
Love is in the Air.
What the world needs now is LOVE sweet Love.
Love can break a Heart.
Love can mend a Hurt.
Do we learn to love our children or love them because they are?
Falling in and out of Love?
Love is like a train wreck.
Who are we in LOVE? As if we become different. Perhaps we do.
Just some of the questions that this past Valentine’s Day has brought to bear.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
”When the safety and well-being of you is of equal importance as the safety and well-being of me,then a state of love exists.”
I rather like the way this is said yet it seems so much more, so much more intangible. A place that has no words, no way of being described.
To survive in the very first days of our lives we need to know love and touch. It is a time and place when we have no words to describe what it is we feel. There have been horrible studies done to prove this point, during the Renaissance and beyond. We are hungry to understand this thing ~ this Life force of LOVE. We thirst for a glimmer to quench this deep dry place; yet the river surrounds us.
We are busy taking in information from the moment we start the very first bit of BE-Coming. The zygote knows this fight of life; the moment and act of “love-making” that calls to our soul in the ethers, “Come, come be a part of us.” Sometimes it is answered, sometimes not. Sometimes we are ready ~ they are not and sometimes a Soul is ready and the “love-makers” are not. And in truth sometimes it has nothing what so ever to do with Love. Yet; I believe our BEING-ness has everything to do with LOVE and a whole lot of stardust and magic. The Miracle of Be-coming no matter how often it appears before me can never dim in it’s magical, mysteriousness! I am always always in AWE at new life, new bloom, new growth! The courage it takes to BE-COME! This life long process of BEING.
This for me is Love added to the eloquent words of our friend H.S. Sullivan, along with countless poets, painters, Artist of every genre known to the Elements, Plants, Furred, Finned, Winged, Creepy Crawlers, the Circling Winds, the gods and goddess, oh, and least I forget us Human.
Our Being true to ourselves is LOVE. And that takes courage and willingness to sit with what works and doesn’t, what serves us and what doesn’t and how in the end does serving our self serve the Greater Good of All?
Let us all continue to Grow, Live, bring and gift Joy, Laughter and Love to ourselves and those around us that perhaps someday in the not so distant future we will know PEACE, and all suffering will be an illusion.
Monday, February 16, 2009
I wondered and nearly laughed till
I wept, we have so little of it between us
Yet, it is you who resets the time on my watch
You who gifted a clock that sings to me the time
So, like a thief I take what you gift
Hoping someday, I will wake
You'll be right beside me, having been there all along.
Laying with a body wrapped round me
Letting me hold your dreams safe
In time...you did not plan to Love me.
and I - from the moment I heard your voice
One touch of your skin, I knew the smell of us
Before, you ever drank from the cup.
I sank into me
though this is an older piece I have LOVE on the body.
How is it that it shows up in ways we don't think of? Un~called?
oh, my Love you know who you are.
Ours to hold close. It feels like there is indeed never enough time..........................
written November 2007
Saturday, February 14, 2009
So, when we think about the fact that today is considered a day for lovers. It brings to mind this thought ~ What is LOVE? I bet your brain went ~ What? We all feel and think we know what Love is, yet I wonder if each of us could really tell each other what LOVE is.
Could you do it without a metaphor and is it the same in each instant that we might use the word? It’s a four letter word with a whole lot of pack and baggage depending on how and where we were raised. According to the always ready to give advise on words Merriam-Webster it can be a noun or a verb. Coming form the Old High German luba love, Old English leof dear, and Latin libere to please 'then it meaning':
1 a) strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties [now that seems a bit unclear] b) attraction based on sexual desire [don’t know about you but I would call that lust] c) affection based on admiration, benevolence or common interests
2 warm attachment, enthusiasm or devotion
3 a) the object of attachment, devotion or admiration b) a beloved person [what?] or if you happen to be British you might use it as an informal term of address
4 unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another
5 a god or personification of love
6 an amorous episode as in: Love affair
7 the sexual embrace as in: copulation or to make love ~note verb
8 a score of zero as in: tennis
So all that said and now put aside; what is LOVE? An emotion? A chemical body response? What is it truly?
I would have to say that it is a Mysterious Miracle. For something that is so difficult to really name and give voice too, we spend as a culture, as a species putting a lot of Faith toward something that we really have no way of even comprehending ~ though of course we are all positive that we do! That my friends is what makes it so darn Mysterious. We create great works of Art, written, painted, sculptured, drawn, performance and any other way you might think of in the name of LOVE.
We even commit great atrocities in the name of Love. Love of religion, culture, country and family honour. There is a great sadness that comes with this thought, yet never the less it does not change the fact that it is so.
What compels us toward this mystery? Why is it we feel left out; not good enough if we think we are not Loved? Here I would like to state that we are always always LOVED as children of the Great Creator Mother/ Father, the Goddess, Yahweh, Spirit, Higher Being, the Cosmos and Universe, depending on your belief system. Our very existence states we are LOVE , LOVED and BELOVED. (but that’s a whole other story)
Why do we have this need to Love and Be-Loved? I believe it is indeed a need versus a want. It feels in my Soulbody like the very essence of Life force! Without it the lights in our eyes don’t shine. The laughter we hear has no resonance. The kick in our dance step is lost. Yet one smile, kind word or touch and it can all come rushing back into our lives. That is indeed some powerful Medicine, Mystery and a down right Miracle!
Yes, it is a Miracle that with all the different ways, ideas, views of LOVE that we as a species ever pull it off. That indeed there are amazing stories of great Loves. That we see it no matter what else is going on in the world around us, two people with that extra little sparkle that lights up the whole space. Watching parents and their child(ren) doing something together where the rest of the world seems excluded. Oh, how we Love (verb) to be a voyeurs at those moments in time. It makes our hearts skip a beat ~ well, it does mine!
I want to invite each of us to become voyeurs to our own moments of being LOVE. The moments we randomly choose to do something kind and special for another or “god forbid” something for ourselves. We are the LOVE we wish to see in the world. We must first Love ourselves to know how it feels and what it means before we can share this Mysterious Miracle with another. For if we don’t Love ourselves no amount of someone telling us they Love us will ever feel REAL.
Though I’ve not really answered the question What is LOVE? Other then to tell you it’s a Mysterious Miracle. Because I truly think it is an unanswerable question, as many Right answers as there are creatures to love. Perhaps, I can now say ~ without a doubt
Happy St. Valentine’s Day 2009~
Monday, February 9, 2009
Memories, I am no longer sure that even the memory that the body holds is to the point, the meat of the thing possibly. Here to I believe it gets a little turned, the light shining through it shifts, as we reflect back on the event, or as someone else, who was there tells it in THEIR memory version. Then the way society tells us we should feel about something also gets to mix it up a bit. Truth, fact fiction? A touch of it all. What causes us to reflect back or forward to take apart, “work” , and “what if” a memory. To attempt to pull apart the thread in the tapestry that is us. Why does it become important to understand the event to look from all sides of the reflection? Then I also wonder are we ever able to really re – “create” in our minds eye the fact; just the facts of a “memory”? Are we capable of doing such a thing?
Same event 4 people, four different truths, even with two - can it be instant replayed? The same with two set of eyes, ears, feelings, linear time? What if one person then dies; how is the memory then held by the one? How much of who we are gets lost as people who know us die ? When we are the only one left with parts of a memory?
I love the sensation of the memory, the feeling of the whole thing, not the “Who Done It’s”. Sometimes, I like to take the smell or the touch of a memory and hold it to my heart, forget all the details, holding only enough of them to bring the smell, the taste, the touch, the sound, the sightedness of colour or shape, the sensation into a clarity. That’s the gift of a memory, the ability to gently rock me, or to have it throw me to the wolves so to speak.
Being “thrown to the wolves”, doesn’t make the memory a “bad” thought or sensation. It’s clarity such that I am transported to a place out of the present linear time, spiraling back to a place deep within. Though here too I will also state that YES, there are memories that I am torn and ripped, eaten, chewed and spit out again. This too offer up a tid-bit, something to work, to unravel and reweave.
Sit back who needs TV; unfold a memory! Like a good book ~ they become dog-eared, quotes that stick with you through time. Some stories/memories never grow old even in the retelling. Much laughter and warmth filling the space. Besides, they are the essence of how we become WHO it is that we are.
Which of these might invite us to a deeper understanding and healing? Given the opportunity to share it and sit with what comes up? And how often might we allow and honour a memory for the gifts that it has given? The moment in time so etched in our mind.
Sitting in the quiet, a Breath, and the memory we chose unfolds......
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