spirited activity

i’ve got several support groups going right now, support for me, i mean.  i’m a hermit, we all agree, and natural shyness plays a part, as well as the hearing loss.   but these unconnected groups (2) have each asked that its members make some sort of week-long commitment to something they desire.  just a week, small things, little pokes in the monolith of ‘what we want’.  and so i have chosen.  ready?

i’m taking time this week to find my connection to Spirit.  I lost my faith in God when my Dad died, in totality.  Evidently I was mad, and also, now evidently, I had made my deity in the shape of my father.  I am working my way back to something that is related, but utterly different, and i’m just naming it Spirit, maybe as a copout? but as a way to communicate to others what it might be like… for me its like spring earth, chill damp but sunny… potential and a captured bit of change.  a focus on the surreal of nature and the connection i have to the larger world, stars and all.

how do i go about this? i mean, church ? no. no church. i can’t be hemmed in like that.

humility is involved, as always… because i am small, in a big big world.  (so are seeds…dig? )

and writing. i like writing. and want more of it.  and it sends out tendrils into my smoky soul.

six days, right?  tiny.


writing as a callout to divinity? universality? maybe i should light a candle.  maybe i should follow a prompt? look at an inspiring card? tarot? oracle?

maybe i should wear my favorite sneakers? dress the part? pencil holding hair? earrings? i know, i’m mostly just kidding. i know there’s nothing exterior that has anything to do with my inner.  but maybe if i put my feather earrings on it will remind me of the flights i take that fill me up and earth me down…

maybe my metaphors will be strong and able to hoist me over the threshold…

see what i did there?


love you guys.  i’ll keep you in the loop. 0307191408



raggedy bitch

so i am home with a child recovering from a night of throw up and fever. she responds like a champ to kids ibuprofen so right now she seems completely normal, like maddeningly normal. .  . but in 4.3 hours, when that dose runs out… its back to weep and groan and moan. . . so there. there is that.

i am mom, hear me roar. again.  this season has been ridiculous. RIDICULOUS.

its nice that so many years have passed of momming now… i get tired… but i’m not nearly as depleted as I was when it was new, and there were two under three… its a huge universe of different.

i’m not as ragged anywhere… sometimes i think back to that time and i wonder how i even got through it.  i was in a marriage that didn’t give me a feeling of safety, or any real sense of ‘break’… i was home with kids all the time and i was overwhelmed by all of it.  i was completely unsure that I existed, outside of what i ‘did’.

i was some kind of raggedy.

there is a real reservoir of peace in my life now.  it sits right next to the reservoir of fear that i also have.  twinning.

honestly, i can’t tell you if the peace pond has gotten deeper or if the fear reservoir is wider or if there’s more peace because the kids are older or because Hubs is out of the picture?  I mean, thats a whole lot of choice and powerful changes, right?

I was supposed to have a meeting with my Reiki teacher, chakra carol, today… but because of kid sickness it was cancelled.  I mean, if i had a dollar for every time i’d had to cancel something because of kids?  sheesh…

anyhow. so we talked on the phone and i bedazzled her with a million items to talk about before she waited me out to exhaustion. and then… things like this.

We are all on a journey to peace. we just don’t all know it.

Acknowledging the fear is the beginning of unraveling it.

I don’t have to go on a shamanic journey, naked in the desert, to deal with my fears, I just have to keep noticing them.  Noticing when I feel them, when I avoid them, what I think they might be…

and Not being ready doesn’t mean Never being ready.


So there are days like this, when little is done but laundry and a movie or two… and still, i can drift a thousand times more whole than i ever was before, and there is still work to be done. but here i am. existing.






Lack is a word that ‘new agey’ people throw around a lot.  ‘new agey’ people is a term I throw around a fair amount and i completely recognize its stupidity, in the face of the tremendous variety of people out there.  mostly what i mean is people who are interested in more non-traditional ways of thinking about the body and the psyche.

my mother thinks the tarot is most likely evil.  She is NOT new agey.   Can you identify the definition in that negative?

anyhow. Lack.

If you focus on what you don’t have.. or spend your fears on what you might lose.. or do all the work you do to KEEP lack away… its a part of your life… and investigating it is worth a damn. or a dollar.

when i feel myself filling with resentment, i tend to spend.  i do. i spend money, i spend time… i throw it around like budgets and constraints are a fantasy… like dwarves… or magic swords… fun in books but not ‘real’ to me.

this time around?  i found the greatest abundance in giving away.  i gave money to two fundraisers for families in need.  i found it thrilling to think i could give and it would help relieve at least one stress in their lives as they move through trama. these were small amounts, but i could swing it, and there was legit NEED. 

i signed up for an infusion of essential oils from my friend gina garris… she’s magic. and i spent money! and i felt instantly that i was already wealthier… weird but true.  they haven’t arrived yet but even the thinking was an enriching experience. . .

when you are required to think about what you really need, and you include all the different parts of you: the mom of an overly emotional kid, the sexual creature, the artist, the dreamer, the worrier… all those parts need to be honored and cared for… and then you feel that someone is going to do that?  (gina’s oils are… and I am… ME..)  Its pretty kickass.

it feels fertile. rich loam, vibrant soil.  you get me?

its february.  normally we’d be holding onto our sanity about spring… but this year the weather has significantly altered and it seems like spring could be any minute now.  usually at this time we are clinging to faith.  faith that beneath the soil is percolation, potential, growth… that while all is frozen, the green and the lush are lying in wait for us…

well, its a thing for me anyways.  (laughing)  It really is. I hope you have that too. that faith.  it feels pretty damn luxurious in the face of what we might think we lack.  faith beneath the slush and the chill.


Oxalis... the growth beneath the freeze... UnwifedMotherExpletive


another thing i did was move heaven and high water. (what? what does that mean? ) it supposed to be hell? … to spend time with real live people this weekend, which meant asking my mom to babysit on a weekend i ‘had the kids’… i’ve never, ever done that before, in all these almost 3-4 years of separation. they’ve never had a babysitter when they’ve been with me, and i’ve never gone out without them. and i did. and it was worth it.

and let me just tell you, there were a lot of people involved… 2 sports games and a surprise third. and three different sets of people helped manage the driving so i could go away and have a cup of tea in a mug that i drank while warm. with real. live.people. living. not online.

have i ever told you all how hermit-like i am? hm.

but it was another way to SPEND in order to nourish. and i’m all in . its not all money, but it is all enriching, and i’m all for it right now.


Be Humble.

Being humble is a big deal for me. Its an integral part of my function in the world.  i can internally hear ‘be humble’ in the background on a regular basis… and its not as if i’m running around boasting about any such thing and/or need ‘correcting’…its not an admonishment, just a gentle reminder of a way to walk in the world. 0212191516

its something i feel pretty steeped in.

it can get confusing.

because, low self-esteem can belong to me sometimes… and that isn’t humility or being humble…. and sometimes i am fooled into thinking that I am ‘supposed’ to be a doormat, or ‘supposed’ to put someone else first, like the kids, the mate, etc.

and being humble is actually recognizing that everything you have is a gift, you’ve been gifted this experience, and you get to ride along and enjoy, but you did not CAUSE this ride. Just like everyone else. 

what i think it engenders is a sense of amazement and gratitude for the gifts of life.

and i don’t think it is just the grotesquely privileged who get to feel this ‘humble’…

like, you don’t have to have a stone wall to stare at in order to feel gifted in life.


i’m not sure this is making sense….

i was married into a family that doesn’t value humility… i don’t mean they are vain.  i do think they, many of them, hold it as a family value that they are somewhat legend-worthy.   its hard to say it like that without needing to explain it down somehow… but i think it is true of them, and i think my need to explain it down is my whole ‘humble’ thing.

no judgement on them, its just their way.  i love them.

and i do think there is some sort of power dynamic to it, in me, because there is so much ‘church’ behind it…looking at the role of women in a patriarchy is not floating my boat these days…

and i’m very aware of needing not to scurry into my humility. it shares space with humiliation.

being humble has its roots in being GROUNDED.

not ground down.

slip and slide between meanings, yes?

and what if my being humble, and recognizing myself in you, and you, in my self, makes me feel that we are all the dirt of possibility and the possibility of stardust?

what if that?

humble stardust, babe.


*being dirtlike and glorying in it… like, the most faithful dirty seedsoil ever.

*are we happy being a breeding ground for beauty? is that enough?

I wrote these two tidbits in another place, and they feel fertile… real potentials for pages and pages…

Its been suggested that humility isn’t a value anymore, that its been phased out. generational.

so, i asked my older kids: My elder child ,13, described it as feeling like everyone is equal, that we’re all at the same level.  (bonus point for him…) my middle child (11) told me a long story about how when you got the last goal that won the game you said, yeah, i’m good, but i wouldn’t be any good without my team…

I think they’re in on it, and its still around, but it has different words now, and it certainly is not mainstream or valued by our larger culture.

anyhow, the beginning of this post was much more interesting than the end.

i love you to pieces for reading, i really do. let me know who you are sometime, would ya?