Have you ever gotten so tired of all your relationships that you just wanted to crawl into a hole. Move away, find a new beach community in a country where you pay .30 cents for a coconut, and just survive there, make a new batch of friends, preferably a batch that doesn’t speak English.
I am writing this post from inside my closet, it is the only place I can find to be by myself. I spent my childhood in my closet, it was a place where I felt safe. I remember once my father belting me across the face, I flew into the bench which now lives in my kitchen, landed on a my kidney, it was bruised for weeks. I ran upstairs and hid in my closet. I think I must have been 14 at the time, far too old to be hiding in closets, far too old to still be being hit by my father, too old to not fight back. I moved out with my boyfriend shortly thereafter, it was never really spoken about, I just sort of stopped coming home.
So why am I hiding in the closet? Because I don’t want to go anywhere I am not wanted. I want to be wanted, especially by those I love. I don’t think I am alone here. I am hurt! When I am folding freshly washed clothes and dripping tears all over them, it is not a good night for cavalier words, to be mean to me. I know this last line is not fair, maybe this is why I am writing it, as a petty attempt to have the last word for all the world to read. I am already hiding in a closet like a 14 year old I might as well embody this role that I am playing, really fill out this misunderstood teenager angst I am overcome by. I know I am being juvenile, fearful, and seeing only the smaller picture, I know all this and I am still staying in my closet, a closet too small for anyone other than me, myself and I.
Bottom line? When the “we” disappears and the “I” comes out, I get scared about becoming a “we” in a way that requires us to be in communication for a lifetime, about being a “we” in a way which I have no way out of. I am afraid of being someone else's disappointment, it is a deep shame and fear. I am in this closet because I was triggered, decided I wasn’t loved, which no amount of rational thought can penetrate when I feel this small and fragile.
If only it were a long enough closet to sleep in. I emerged from my closet just long enough to grab the ringing phone. On the phone was a voice that told me that I am wanted ,that I am loved, that staying in here when warm arms await is “crazy”. It just seems so hard to leave, this safe cramped little space. I suppose I will have to use the washroom soon, at which time I might just come out of the closet since I don’t have a jar to pee in.
“Where do you feel safe?” is the question in 12 days journal #163
September 23, 2009
September 22, 2009
Day 9 Pleasure Revolution- A Dream Shared
Michael and I have a studio! Right now it is filled with walls, paint cans, junk, fabric and other various clutter. By November it will be an open dance space, with beautiful wood floors, high ceilings, a sky light to flood the place with natural light, and a nook with a bed where I will write this blog and many more inspired things.
I already had a studio space in my mothers house. She was so very generous and sweet to have created it for me, my brothers helped and I was so grateful, content with it, or so I thought. I now realize it never really felt like a grown up, big girl space, I had to walk through my mothers entrance, the bathroom was shared and it was in a basement.
Michael has dreamt of an open work space, with a rich wood floor, for much longer than we have known each other. He shared this dream with me when we began working together. I admit I didn’t get it; why pay all that money in rent when you can just rent studio space when needed? He didn’t try to change my mind, just remained focused on his dream, quietly and gracious as always.
I got a call just before going into class last week. My friend Linda and I had stopped for coffee, I sat stirring honey into my cappuccino as he told me about the walls that had to be moved, the cost, the skylight, the potential, he sounded so excited. As I began to visualize us in the space, I finally got it, finally understood his vision. Having a dedicated space, to “go to work” each day, a place that is ours no matter the hour, a space to build our unique work, to grow our non-human baby.
Linda and I drove to school clucking like chickens, discussing all the potential, the ideas, the dreams. She too had just come up with an idea for a dedicated space for a living arts museum. By the time we arrived at the school studio it hit me in full magnitude, that this was such an important step towards success. A step I would not have taken without Michael, at least not yet.
This morning Michael showed me the studio, he had told Gordon, the landlord, that once I arrived home from California, and had a chance to see it, we would decide whether to commit. It was Michael's dream, he could have gone ahead without me, but he didn’t, he is sharing his dream with me. We walked down to the bank, he withdrew 2 months rent. We took it up to Gordon and signed on the dotted line.
As of November 1st, we will have our own beautiful studio space on Baker Street, downtown Nelson, British Columbia.
Stay tuned, amazing things on the horizon!
“What are your dreams?” is the question in 12 days journal #162
(Taken the day after we met, the beginning of something amazing)
I already had a studio space in my mothers house. She was so very generous and sweet to have created it for me, my brothers helped and I was so grateful, content with it, or so I thought. I now realize it never really felt like a grown up, big girl space, I had to walk through my mothers entrance, the bathroom was shared and it was in a basement.
Michael has dreamt of an open work space, with a rich wood floor, for much longer than we have known each other. He shared this dream with me when we began working together. I admit I didn’t get it; why pay all that money in rent when you can just rent studio space when needed? He didn’t try to change my mind, just remained focused on his dream, quietly and gracious as always.
I got a call just before going into class last week. My friend Linda and I had stopped for coffee, I sat stirring honey into my cappuccino as he told me about the walls that had to be moved, the cost, the skylight, the potential, he sounded so excited. As I began to visualize us in the space, I finally got it, finally understood his vision. Having a dedicated space, to “go to work” each day, a place that is ours no matter the hour, a space to build our unique work, to grow our non-human baby.
Linda and I drove to school clucking like chickens, discussing all the potential, the ideas, the dreams. She too had just come up with an idea for a dedicated space for a living arts museum. By the time we arrived at the school studio it hit me in full magnitude, that this was such an important step towards success. A step I would not have taken without Michael, at least not yet.
This morning Michael showed me the studio, he had told Gordon, the landlord, that once I arrived home from California, and had a chance to see it, we would decide whether to commit. It was Michael's dream, he could have gone ahead without me, but he didn’t, he is sharing his dream with me. We walked down to the bank, he withdrew 2 months rent. We took it up to Gordon and signed on the dotted line.
As of November 1st, we will have our own beautiful studio space on Baker Street, downtown Nelson, British Columbia.
Stay tuned, amazing things on the horizon!
“What are your dreams?” is the question in 12 days journal #162
(Taken the day after we met, the beginning of something amazing)
September 21, 2009
Day 8 Pleasure Revolution- Simple Pleasures Three!
You and me and baby makes 3!
My friend Rachel, who gave me the gift of 3 1/2 days of relaxation and nothing to do but wait for baby, wrote the following as her status on facebook this evening.
“Skylah Rain arrived this morning @ 6:57. I am totally in love.”
Congratulations James, and Rachel, enjoy your wonderful little simple pleasure.
“What happened on the day you were born?” is the question in 12 days journal #161
P.S. If you don’t know, google it. I did this, it was very interesting.
My friend Rachel, who gave me the gift of 3 1/2 days of relaxation and nothing to do but wait for baby, wrote the following as her status on facebook this evening.
“Skylah Rain arrived this morning @ 6:57. I am totally in love.”
Congratulations James, and Rachel, enjoy your wonderful little simple pleasure.
“What happened on the day you were born?” is the question in 12 days journal #161
P.S. If you don’t know, google it. I did this, it was very interesting.
September 20, 2009
Day 7 Pleasure Revolution- Simple Pleasures Too
Speaking of simple pleasures... Here are but a few of today’s.
(Lily in Monterey California this summer)
“What do you remember of you family holidays as a child?” is the question in 12 days journal #160
- Waking up with my gorgeous lover after a sweet reunion.
- Being then visited at our camp site by my husband who lets me know my birthday girl is waking up and needs a birthday song sung to her.
- Breakfast with my entire family; Kelly, Chris, Michael, Lily, Rosy and Ayla.
- Fishing in the morning.
- Walking round a lake in a dress bought in Santa Monica and cowboy boots and loving my own resilience, adaptability and willingness to roll with life as it comes.
- Building a sweat lodge with my family, digging a hole for the rocks, collecting rocks to heat in the fire, watching as my men collect cedar boughs, wood to fuel the fire and make the structure. Listening to my children problem solve and both co-operate and bicker.
- Waiting for our friends Pam and James to arrive with their children, another birthday surprise for Lily whose birthday wish was to have an end of summer camping trip with her family and her best friend Sage’s family.
- Preparing dinner on a camp stove with a glass of wine and wonderful conversation.
- Listening to 6 children and one husband sing “We all come from the Mother”, as they sit naked inside the sweat lodge while the rest of us sit round the fire delivering hot rocks and water to pour on them when needed.
- A bed time ritual which wet smooth and had lots of little girls snuggled in with their good friends.
- Sitting round the campfire with my teenage daughter and 5 other adults. Talking about various drugs, talking about their effects, both the desirable and the long/short term undesirable.
- Ending the night with hugs and stumbling off to our beds to snuggle in the cold evening.
- Spending the last day of Summer celebrating the birth of my middle child, Lily Rain Raabis, who was born in our living room in Slave Lake Alberta, 11 years ago today.
- Being blessed with support, love, commitment and understanding.
- Simple pleasures.
(Lily in Monterey California this summer)
“What do you remember of you family holidays as a child?” is the question in 12 days journal #160
September 19, 2009
Day 6 Pleasure Revolution- Simple Pleasures 1
I had the pleasure of being met at the airport by Michael. He picked me up as part of a surprise for Lily’s Birthday.
We have a tradition in our family. The whole family comes into the birthday girls (or boy) room in the morning and sings our family birthday song;
“In heaven shines a golden star,
an angel sent you from afar.
From heaven high, unto the earth,
and brought you to your place of birth.
oh welcome welcome lovely day,
with sunshine bright and flowers gay.
With painted birds that sing their song.
That made you kind and good and strong!”
Lily’s Birthday is on the 20th of September, she believes she is coming to the airport tomorrow to pick me up. And while she is happy I have cancelled part of my trip in California to be with her on her birthday, I have a feeling she is still sad that our little morning ritual will not happen...or so she thinks.
Michael picked me up at the Spokane airport this afternoon, we picked up a few necessities and are heading up over the border to go hide in the campground where Chris, Kelly and the girls are staying tonight. In the morning I will sneak into the camper, appearing out of thin air, and sing her our family birthday song. A simple pleasure to surprise someone I love just by being present.
Until then I will enjoy another simple pleasure. We are going to pull over into a private spot just off the highway, and enjoy each others company after being apart for a week. We will each drink a beer which we just purchased at the grocery store, and then perhaps do a little snuggling...ahhh......simple pleasures.
“What are the simple pleasures of life?” is the question in 12 days journal #159
We have a tradition in our family. The whole family comes into the birthday girls (or boy) room in the morning and sings our family birthday song;
“In heaven shines a golden star,
an angel sent you from afar.
From heaven high, unto the earth,
and brought you to your place of birth.
oh welcome welcome lovely day,
with sunshine bright and flowers gay.
With painted birds that sing their song.
That made you kind and good and strong!”
Lily’s Birthday is on the 20th of September, she believes she is coming to the airport tomorrow to pick me up. And while she is happy I have cancelled part of my trip in California to be with her on her birthday, I have a feeling she is still sad that our little morning ritual will not happen...or so she thinks.
Michael picked me up at the Spokane airport this afternoon, we picked up a few necessities and are heading up over the border to go hide in the campground where Chris, Kelly and the girls are staying tonight. In the morning I will sneak into the camper, appearing out of thin air, and sing her our family birthday song. A simple pleasure to surprise someone I love just by being present.
Until then I will enjoy another simple pleasure. We are going to pull over into a private spot just off the highway, and enjoy each others company after being apart for a week. We will each drink a beer which we just purchased at the grocery store, and then perhaps do a little snuggling...ahhh......simple pleasures.
“What are the simple pleasures of life?” is the question in 12 days journal #159
September 18, 2009
Day 5 Pleasure Revolution- New Moon
Twice a month I become a lunatic. Seems a harsh thing to say about myself. I don’t mean it in a self deprecating way , but as an acknowledgement of its original meaning and my susceptibility. Luna, is the the moon Goddess: a lunatic is one who is prone to intermittent insanity in relation to the moon cycle. Every new moon I am a wreck, every full moon I am a wreck. These states of wreck-lessness differ immensely, especially depending on the intensity of the transition, something I know nothing about predicting but can always FEEL. I have often been known to ask, while rubbing my furrowed brow, “Is this a really strong moon? Or am I just going insane?”. Apparently this new moon came as Mercury finally left retrograde, again I am not sure what this really means but I know enough to stay away from life changing decisions during this time. My angst and analysing started last night. I ended a conversation because I was worried my inability to let anything slide would cause a quarrel, it didn’t, my conversation partner was very understanding and patient. Then this morning I couldn’t eat and was filled with ungrounded squirrel like energy. Luckily our class was headed out into the environment, time to commune with nature usually takes off my edges.
We walked in silence towards the ocean, through walls of exposed rock piled layer upon layer, neatly stacked, ancient, brown and crumbling. The tide drew hard through the headlands which hold either end of the Golden Gate Bridge, water surging into the Bay. The sun was hot, I broke into a run and with arms outstretched enjoyed the wind. I rounded a corner before my classmates so I could pee without an audience. As the class joined me we stood under giant eucalyptus trees, trunks like elephant legs, ancient and wrinkly. I had pangs of sadness at not bringing a camera. I decided my words became pictures in my mind and the minds of others, I was not sad anymore. We reached the beach and the view was out of a postcard...millions of them in fact sold on the other side of the Bay from where we stood. I gazed across at San Francisco and wondered at how this magical international landmark had become a part of my everyday, or at least my every month. How this little girl from Bragg Creek, Alberta had grown into the womyn who choose to follow her dream. This sounds a little cheesy, like I grew up in Iowa and am now walking the red carpet at some L.A. event. It is not nearly as scarce as this though, I get to keep my intimate life in a little mountain oasis AND I get to come here to the Bay and experience the excitement of the city. There was much excitement today!
Our time at the Headlands ended abruptly when we were evacuated. We saw a fire start just about a 1/4 mile from where we were. Tiny at first, it became quite the blaze, flames licking into the sky. As we enacted our scores (Tamalpa language for experiencing nature in a meaningful way), planes flew over head dropping fire retardant. A helicopter with a bucket came to douse the flames, while fire-fighters crawled the hillside like ants saving the forest of Golden Gate National Recreation Area. The coast guard came into shore and through a bullhorn told us to evacuate immediately. I never felt in danger, just in awe of watching nature and mankind converge, reminding me that the idea of a separation between the two is an illusion.
I sit here typing on my friend KD’s day bed knowing that the moon is finally waxing, that my lunacy will soon subside. I am using this time to commit, to setting intentions. In 45 minutes I will sit in ceremony with Michael. We have planned a phone date to declare our intentions and manifestations to one another, something I do every new moon. Five moons ago I asked for Michael. I didn’t know his name then, just that I wanted a partner who was kind, one who had a similar communication style to my own, could dance and co-create with me, someone I would love and feel safe with. Setting intention on the new moon is a powerful way to manifest. I know this because my manifestation is coming to pick me up at the airport tomorrow afternoon.
“Where would you like to travel?” is the question in 12 days journal #158
We walked in silence towards the ocean, through walls of exposed rock piled layer upon layer, neatly stacked, ancient, brown and crumbling. The tide drew hard through the headlands which hold either end of the Golden Gate Bridge, water surging into the Bay. The sun was hot, I broke into a run and with arms outstretched enjoyed the wind. I rounded a corner before my classmates so I could pee without an audience. As the class joined me we stood under giant eucalyptus trees, trunks like elephant legs, ancient and wrinkly. I had pangs of sadness at not bringing a camera. I decided my words became pictures in my mind and the minds of others, I was not sad anymore. We reached the beach and the view was out of a postcard...millions of them in fact sold on the other side of the Bay from where we stood. I gazed across at San Francisco and wondered at how this magical international landmark had become a part of my everyday, or at least my every month. How this little girl from Bragg Creek, Alberta had grown into the womyn who choose to follow her dream. This sounds a little cheesy, like I grew up in Iowa and am now walking the red carpet at some L.A. event. It is not nearly as scarce as this though, I get to keep my intimate life in a little mountain oasis AND I get to come here to the Bay and experience the excitement of the city. There was much excitement today!
Our time at the Headlands ended abruptly when we were evacuated. We saw a fire start just about a 1/4 mile from where we were. Tiny at first, it became quite the blaze, flames licking into the sky. As we enacted our scores (Tamalpa language for experiencing nature in a meaningful way), planes flew over head dropping fire retardant. A helicopter with a bucket came to douse the flames, while fire-fighters crawled the hillside like ants saving the forest of Golden Gate National Recreation Area. The coast guard came into shore and through a bullhorn told us to evacuate immediately. I never felt in danger, just in awe of watching nature and mankind converge, reminding me that the idea of a separation between the two is an illusion.
I sit here typing on my friend KD’s day bed knowing that the moon is finally waxing, that my lunacy will soon subside. I am using this time to commit, to setting intentions. In 45 minutes I will sit in ceremony with Michael. We have planned a phone date to declare our intentions and manifestations to one another, something I do every new moon. Five moons ago I asked for Michael. I didn’t know his name then, just that I wanted a partner who was kind, one who had a similar communication style to my own, could dance and co-create with me, someone I would love and feel safe with. Setting intention on the new moon is a powerful way to manifest. I know this because my manifestation is coming to pick me up at the airport tomorrow afternoon.
“Where would you like to travel?” is the question in 12 days journal #158
September 17, 2009
Day 4 Pleasure Revolution- Shiny Metal
My indulgence and absolute pleasure of today was to run down a spongy wooded trail, the canopy high above, as an artist rather than an athlete. To emerge round a corner and see a jewel lake shaped like a stomach, the belly of our mama. To watch as a school of fish, emerging from nowhere, fed off the surface, breaching, splashing, so committed to singularity, and wonded, do they imagine themselves as big as whales? Do they even know that whales exist on this same planet, ultimately in the same water they do? I watched as bubbles glided to the surface, through water that somehow appears clear and opaque at the same time, gasses from some unknown biological reality that I know nothing about. To step from shade into sun and be overcome by the spicy concoction in the air. Pachamama mama baking bread made of toasted ancient grasses. The pungent smells of cloves, cinnamon, bay leaves, eucalyptus, all made sweet by sticky dark rich molasses. I imagined taking a bite and wondered if it was possible god created smell to encourage us to breathe. My indulgence today was to go to school, to enact a score in the hills of Marin County, California as part of my education.
I have an absolute passion for nature. I love it in the way I get excited about being with a lover, over and over again, noticing all the new and the old made new by a fresh appreciation, one that could only be had in this moment and will never be again. Combine this with art, and spirit, and womyn who love to dance and explore the life/art process. This is my pleasure. This is my passion. My conviction.
I care deeply what others think of me. It may not be a popular thing to admit, and I have self judgement round it’s existence within me. Given that I care, it is a little unnerving, vulnerable, to admit what I am about to write. The following describes my experience in the forest this afternoon, a class led by a cohort, a score she created. We were to write three things on a small manila card at the trail head. Three things we were wanting to change, areas where we wanted shift or emphasis. I chose to put the statements in the form of “I want”, a practice Michael and I started within 12 hours of meeting one another. With much conviction and not a lot of thought I scribbled the following:
“I want a creative space that inspires, feels comfortable, and like my own (and Michael's).
I want the 12 days project to take off and bring financial abundance.
I want ease and happiness in my family life and home, in our new space and configuration.”
I folded the card up, hiding it under some moss at the trailhead. We convoyed down the path in silence. I was flooded with intense energy and a firing of rapid thoughts, which often happens when I get connected. First came the smells, then the sights, then the knowing. I declared to God that I was ready, ready to bring financial abundance into my life as a result of my artistic endeavours. I drank from a stream as a sacred seal, water is my direct line of connection. I committed to using the financial abundance to create more ease, to increase my connection to spirit in order to create more art, poetry, writings, pictures, dance, music! I prayed for this also to release Chris from the burden of being our sole provider, from the stress of carrying his family alone. I cringe and admit I told God I would use the financial abundance for an iPhone, yes you read that right, to be able to simplify my computer time, picture taking and organization which would leave more time for family and art. I committed to continue following the word of the Divine, my knowing, the connection. I committed that even when in doubt, I will keep the channel open following what I know to be the way. I committed to live as an artist, put MY paintings and drawings up on MY walls, whether I think they are “any good” or not, because this is not the point. I committed even to smoking cigarettes if that is what it takes to follow the knowing rather than the ideas I have about “right and wrong” . (Just in case you are wondering I don’t believe God wants me to smoke cigarettes). I committed to commitment. I committed my life to God, just as I have so many times before.
I have an unusual sacred symbol, I consider culverts, those shiny corrugated metal tubes through which water flow, to be a sign. The sanctuary which I imagine in my mind, is at the bottom of a huge culvert. My actual sanctuary, where I spent many teary days when I lived near Whistler BC, has a culvert smack dab in the centre. I see them when I need confirmation that I am seen by the Divine, that I am on track. When I really need one, even at the strangest time, one will appear. When I created my 8 foot by 4 foot self portrait, my heart was represented by a culvert from which my writings flowed. Culverts are one of my totem signs.
Today on our exploration I saw an abundance of culverts. Old ones, new ones, rusted bent ones, shiny new ones, long, short, big, tiny. Everywhere I turned after I prayed I saw a culvert, culverts in abundance upon asking for abundance is a pretty gosh darn good sign.
I was held by the land today, land just minutes from the Mountain home studio where I attend school, land I have never walked on before. It has held so much of the hard work I have done in the last year and a half. It is by the grace of this land that I found the strength to ask God for what I want. I am truly, deeply, grateful to both God and the land, the God and the Goddess for all the blessings I have in my life.
“What do you want now?“ is he question in 12 days journal #157
I have an absolute passion for nature. I love it in the way I get excited about being with a lover, over and over again, noticing all the new and the old made new by a fresh appreciation, one that could only be had in this moment and will never be again. Combine this with art, and spirit, and womyn who love to dance and explore the life/art process. This is my pleasure. This is my passion. My conviction.
I care deeply what others think of me. It may not be a popular thing to admit, and I have self judgement round it’s existence within me. Given that I care, it is a little unnerving, vulnerable, to admit what I am about to write. The following describes my experience in the forest this afternoon, a class led by a cohort, a score she created. We were to write three things on a small manila card at the trail head. Three things we were wanting to change, areas where we wanted shift or emphasis. I chose to put the statements in the form of “I want”, a practice Michael and I started within 12 hours of meeting one another. With much conviction and not a lot of thought I scribbled the following:
“I want a creative space that inspires, feels comfortable, and like my own (and Michael's).
I want the 12 days project to take off and bring financial abundance.
I want ease and happiness in my family life and home, in our new space and configuration.”
I folded the card up, hiding it under some moss at the trailhead. We convoyed down the path in silence. I was flooded with intense energy and a firing of rapid thoughts, which often happens when I get connected. First came the smells, then the sights, then the knowing. I declared to God that I was ready, ready to bring financial abundance into my life as a result of my artistic endeavours. I drank from a stream as a sacred seal, water is my direct line of connection. I committed to using the financial abundance to create more ease, to increase my connection to spirit in order to create more art, poetry, writings, pictures, dance, music! I prayed for this also to release Chris from the burden of being our sole provider, from the stress of carrying his family alone. I cringe and admit I told God I would use the financial abundance for an iPhone, yes you read that right, to be able to simplify my computer time, picture taking and organization which would leave more time for family and art. I committed to continue following the word of the Divine, my knowing, the connection. I committed that even when in doubt, I will keep the channel open following what I know to be the way. I committed to live as an artist, put MY paintings and drawings up on MY walls, whether I think they are “any good” or not, because this is not the point. I committed even to smoking cigarettes if that is what it takes to follow the knowing rather than the ideas I have about “right and wrong” . (Just in case you are wondering I don’t believe God wants me to smoke cigarettes). I committed to commitment. I committed my life to God, just as I have so many times before.
I have an unusual sacred symbol, I consider culverts, those shiny corrugated metal tubes through which water flow, to be a sign. The sanctuary which I imagine in my mind, is at the bottom of a huge culvert. My actual sanctuary, where I spent many teary days when I lived near Whistler BC, has a culvert smack dab in the centre. I see them when I need confirmation that I am seen by the Divine, that I am on track. When I really need one, even at the strangest time, one will appear. When I created my 8 foot by 4 foot self portrait, my heart was represented by a culvert from which my writings flowed. Culverts are one of my totem signs.
Today on our exploration I saw an abundance of culverts. Old ones, new ones, rusted bent ones, shiny new ones, long, short, big, tiny. Everywhere I turned after I prayed I saw a culvert, culverts in abundance upon asking for abundance is a pretty gosh darn good sign.
I was held by the land today, land just minutes from the Mountain home studio where I attend school, land I have never walked on before. It has held so much of the hard work I have done in the last year and a half. It is by the grace of this land that I found the strength to ask God for what I want. I am truly, deeply, grateful to both God and the land, the God and the Goddess for all the blessings I have in my life.
“What do you want now?“ is he question in 12 days journal #157
September 16, 2009
Day 3 Pleasure Revolution- Knowing
My friend Linda took me to see her friend Ava. Her friend ava showed me the paintings she was going to be sending to the New Picasso museum in France, a church in Italy and the commissions for the Cirque De Soliel, headed for Las Vegas. Ava Avione is in her 70’s, she came from Boston to California when she was 18 and fell in with the likes of Krishna Murti and Aldous Huxley. I stood in but one of her 80 painting caches, hundreds of painting stacked one upon the other leaned up against walls. Most of the pieces I saw were 4 foot by 8 foot, huge boldly coloured figures of reverence and movement. I had seen her work at Linda’s house, ethereal pastel paintings of 2 little girls, soft and gentle though the boldness of her work, and personality was still apparent. These new paintings though, a whole other fantastic depiction of bodies and souls in motion. They had almost a comic book flavour, with the geometric lines and strong pigment. She smiled contentedly, pointing to one piece in particular, one of the paintings bound for the Italian church, and tells how in all of her years this was the first time she simultaneously captured the essence of birth and death as she imagines them in one face, in one body, in one mass of extraordinary colour. As I gazed at the multidimensional face of infinite possibilities I had to agree, she had captured this singular event that is thought of as two.
I still don’t quite understand how this diminutive womyn of maybe 5 foot could paint so many huge paintings, even just logistically how she reached the top. I didn’t see anything in her studio which looked like a set-up for her to gain elevation. Imagining her stepping up on a step ladder at her age, well I want to say it worried me, but that would not be true, Ava could do it. I imagined after meeting her that she could do anything. Even more wonderful was that when we left her studio, a converted University building slated for demolition, I believed I was capable of anything as well.
Linda, Ava and I spoke for about 4 hours; shared peaches and pears while sitting on rolling chairs in the wide open space of the upstairs studio. A room filled with gallons of pigments, brushes, photography equipment a computer and a large plush bed. She told me she was willing to live almost anywhere, with few amenities just to have space, light and a place to satisfy the call of the muse. We spoke to great lengths about the muse, that which comes into our lives and leaves us no choice but to create beauty, express pain and continue to do so until the call is sated. We commiserated at the frustration other seem to experience at wanting to understand our ways, how this ruffles our relationships, our lingering feelings of being misunderstood and disconnected from those we love and inspire. The “knowing” was a concept we all shared, call it womyn's intuition, psychic connection, the voice of God, call it whatever you want, it doesn’t matter, only being willing to follow it matters. And I can say without a shadow of doubt or embarrassment that following this “knowing“ has helped me to birth the juiciest fruit of my existence. Linda tells a story of when Ava said to her
”God didn’t give me all this so I could go work at Starbucks“
I have often thought of giving up this project, giving up the expense and separation of coming to school in California, stopping my work with soul Motion, staying home and going down to Fusion to ask my friend Jamie for a job waiting tables. I know I would be good at it. I am personable, smart, efficient most of the time, I could make good money, support the family finances rather than draining them. At what cost though?
I truly believe I am a mystic.
”Mystic- (noun) A person who seeks contemplation or self-surrender to obtain unity with or absorption into the Deity or absolute, or who believes in the spiritual apprehension of truths that are beyond the intellect.“
I believe that anyone can be a mystic, it just takes trusting the knowing, not always being able to give or require an explanation. I understand that communication of ideas, thoughts and feelings is important; I also know that sometimes it is not possible, not because of a lack of ability, but because as soon as it is translated or explained the meaning is changed. This is how Ava has worked her whole life, intuitively, and it seems to me she does so without apology. I covet this, I constantly feel the need to apologize for not being able to be specific or give answers. Perhaps by the time I am 70 I too will be unapologetic about my mysticism, actually I am going to choose it sooner.
We reluctantly left her studio to drive to San Francisco. I left with two giant ancient pine nuts that Ava had collected from giant pine cones, from a giant tree. I left her with 12 days journal # 102. I had to refrain from asking her to draw in it and send it right back to me. The idea of it not returning is horrifying! But I made a commitment, followed a knowing. When I created the 12 days 2 inspire I decided to let the journals go, not get involved in their journey back to me. I trust what I had created. I KNOW that this is a piece of my life's work, a way of being my life's work, and so I bit my tongue, and didn’t say anything other than, ”The instructions are on the front, I can’t wait to get it back.“ I know that the journals that are meant to return, will, when the time is right.
”Journals return when journals are ready.“
”Do you trust things you know but can’t explain?“ is the question in 12 days journal #156
”If you can fully understand it, it is not God“
- St. Francis of Assisi
I still don’t quite understand how this diminutive womyn of maybe 5 foot could paint so many huge paintings, even just logistically how she reached the top. I didn’t see anything in her studio which looked like a set-up for her to gain elevation. Imagining her stepping up on a step ladder at her age, well I want to say it worried me, but that would not be true, Ava could do it. I imagined after meeting her that she could do anything. Even more wonderful was that when we left her studio, a converted University building slated for demolition, I believed I was capable of anything as well.
Linda, Ava and I spoke for about 4 hours; shared peaches and pears while sitting on rolling chairs in the wide open space of the upstairs studio. A room filled with gallons of pigments, brushes, photography equipment a computer and a large plush bed. She told me she was willing to live almost anywhere, with few amenities just to have space, light and a place to satisfy the call of the muse. We spoke to great lengths about the muse, that which comes into our lives and leaves us no choice but to create beauty, express pain and continue to do so until the call is sated. We commiserated at the frustration other seem to experience at wanting to understand our ways, how this ruffles our relationships, our lingering feelings of being misunderstood and disconnected from those we love and inspire. The “knowing” was a concept we all shared, call it womyn's intuition, psychic connection, the voice of God, call it whatever you want, it doesn’t matter, only being willing to follow it matters. And I can say without a shadow of doubt or embarrassment that following this “knowing“ has helped me to birth the juiciest fruit of my existence. Linda tells a story of when Ava said to her
”God didn’t give me all this so I could go work at Starbucks“
I have often thought of giving up this project, giving up the expense and separation of coming to school in California, stopping my work with soul Motion, staying home and going down to Fusion to ask my friend Jamie for a job waiting tables. I know I would be good at it. I am personable, smart, efficient most of the time, I could make good money, support the family finances rather than draining them. At what cost though?
I truly believe I am a mystic.
”Mystic- (noun) A person who seeks contemplation or self-surrender to obtain unity with or absorption into the Deity or absolute, or who believes in the spiritual apprehension of truths that are beyond the intellect.“
I believe that anyone can be a mystic, it just takes trusting the knowing, not always being able to give or require an explanation. I understand that communication of ideas, thoughts and feelings is important; I also know that sometimes it is not possible, not because of a lack of ability, but because as soon as it is translated or explained the meaning is changed. This is how Ava has worked her whole life, intuitively, and it seems to me she does so without apology. I covet this, I constantly feel the need to apologize for not being able to be specific or give answers. Perhaps by the time I am 70 I too will be unapologetic about my mysticism, actually I am going to choose it sooner.
We reluctantly left her studio to drive to San Francisco. I left with two giant ancient pine nuts that Ava had collected from giant pine cones, from a giant tree. I left her with 12 days journal # 102. I had to refrain from asking her to draw in it and send it right back to me. The idea of it not returning is horrifying! But I made a commitment, followed a knowing. When I created the 12 days 2 inspire I decided to let the journals go, not get involved in their journey back to me. I trust what I had created. I KNOW that this is a piece of my life's work, a way of being my life's work, and so I bit my tongue, and didn’t say anything other than, ”The instructions are on the front, I can’t wait to get it back.“ I know that the journals that are meant to return, will, when the time is right.
”Journals return when journals are ready.“
”Do you trust things you know but can’t explain?“ is the question in 12 days journal #156
”If you can fully understand it, it is not God“
- St. Francis of Assisi
September 15, 2009
Day 2 Pleasure Revolution- County Mouse, City Mouse
Country Mouse, City mouse
One day Country Mouse decided to go see City Mouse, she hopped on a plane and flew a thousand miles to the big city by the ocean. City Mouse was so happy to see Country Mouse, because she loves her so, AND because she was about to welcome Baby Mouse. She was happy Country Mouse would be there to welcome Baby Mouse. Country Mouse was so happy to have been invited for this special special day.
The night Country Mouse arrived she slept in the living room, she was a little surprised how small City Mouse’s house was. She decided that here in the city, where lots of mice live, there isn’t so much room to spread out. She was a tiny bit afraid, she had heard stories of the big city by the ocean and had watched lots of silly movies which made her believe there were lots of robbers and bad guys. Country mouse decided maybe she shouldn’t believe those movies anymore, then she fell asleep.
In the morning they went with Mousi-ji, the papa of Baby Mouse, to go dance and have breakfast in a fancy city restaurant. Country mouse got a little schooled by the nice waiter, but he also rubbed City Mouses tummy so everything turned out OK. Then the four mice, one still neatly tucked inside her mama, went shopping. Country mouse bought sexy undies and a Marilyn Mousro dress for 10 bucks! Then City Mouse needed to nap, so they went back home to have a rest.
The next day City Mouse was feeling a little mousy she decided to take Country Mouse for a real treat. Country mouse took some of her country herbs and they set out on an adventure. Country Mouse got a little overwhelmed, couldn’t handle the Bed, Bath, and Beyond and wanted to get out of there. Then they went to Trader Joe's where the mice bought chocolate which made everything better. Next was the Korean spa, which was unlike anything Country Mouse had ever imagined, she told City Mouse she wanted to come back to the city by the ocean every month so she could live like a movie star! The mice went home clean and content.
While Country Mouse was having a whole lot of fun, she did wonder if she would ever get to meet Baby Mouse, but you know what they say:
“Baby mice come when baby mice are ready”
Another day came and so they set out on another adventure. City mouse had planned to go see Dr. Mouse this day (ok she was actually a midwife mouse, but it doesn’t have as nice a ring to it) Dr. Mouse weighed and poked and talked and told City Mouse she looked wonderful and healthy and had such a nice shiny coat. City Mouse was doing a very good job taking care of Baby Mouse. The mice left Dr. Mouse and went to get Vietnamese food. There was some more shopping and indulging and lots of talk about babies, boy mice and important mouse work that must be done in this crazy world.
In the afternoon City Mouse napped while Country Mouse rode a bike down to the ocean. Country mouse thought what a lovely holiday she had had, thought it would be nice to come visit more often, but that it was time to go back to where there were more trees and plants, where food grew and birds sang.
City mouse and Mousi-ji dropped Country Mouse off at the edge of town (Well... in Malibu). They hugged and kissed and said good-bye. Country Mouse was still a little sad she didn’t get to meet Baby Mouse, but she knows that “Baby mice come when baby mice are ready”
Thank you City Mouse and Mousi-ji...i love you and will keep you in my thoughts until Baby mouse arrives safely, and steals both your hearts away.
“What do you love about the city?” is the question in the front cover of 12 days journal #155
One day Country Mouse decided to go see City Mouse, she hopped on a plane and flew a thousand miles to the big city by the ocean. City Mouse was so happy to see Country Mouse, because she loves her so, AND because she was about to welcome Baby Mouse. She was happy Country Mouse would be there to welcome Baby Mouse. Country Mouse was so happy to have been invited for this special special day.
The night Country Mouse arrived she slept in the living room, she was a little surprised how small City Mouse’s house was. She decided that here in the city, where lots of mice live, there isn’t so much room to spread out. She was a tiny bit afraid, she had heard stories of the big city by the ocean and had watched lots of silly movies which made her believe there were lots of robbers and bad guys. Country mouse decided maybe she shouldn’t believe those movies anymore, then she fell asleep.
In the morning they went with Mousi-ji, the papa of Baby Mouse, to go dance and have breakfast in a fancy city restaurant. Country mouse got a little schooled by the nice waiter, but he also rubbed City Mouses tummy so everything turned out OK. Then the four mice, one still neatly tucked inside her mama, went shopping. Country mouse bought sexy undies and a Marilyn Mousro dress for 10 bucks! Then City Mouse needed to nap, so they went back home to have a rest.
The next day City Mouse was feeling a little mousy she decided to take Country Mouse for a real treat. Country mouse took some of her country herbs and they set out on an adventure. Country Mouse got a little overwhelmed, couldn’t handle the Bed, Bath, and Beyond and wanted to get out of there. Then they went to Trader Joe's where the mice bought chocolate which made everything better. Next was the Korean spa, which was unlike anything Country Mouse had ever imagined, she told City Mouse she wanted to come back to the city by the ocean every month so she could live like a movie star! The mice went home clean and content.
While Country Mouse was having a whole lot of fun, she did wonder if she would ever get to meet Baby Mouse, but you know what they say:
“Baby mice come when baby mice are ready”
Another day came and so they set out on another adventure. City mouse had planned to go see Dr. Mouse this day (ok she was actually a midwife mouse, but it doesn’t have as nice a ring to it) Dr. Mouse weighed and poked and talked and told City Mouse she looked wonderful and healthy and had such a nice shiny coat. City Mouse was doing a very good job taking care of Baby Mouse. The mice left Dr. Mouse and went to get Vietnamese food. There was some more shopping and indulging and lots of talk about babies, boy mice and important mouse work that must be done in this crazy world.
In the afternoon City Mouse napped while Country Mouse rode a bike down to the ocean. Country mouse thought what a lovely holiday she had had, thought it would be nice to come visit more often, but that it was time to go back to where there were more trees and plants, where food grew and birds sang.
City mouse and Mousi-ji dropped Country Mouse off at the edge of town (Well... in Malibu). They hugged and kissed and said good-bye. Country Mouse was still a little sad she didn’t get to meet Baby Mouse, but she knows that “Baby mice come when baby mice are ready”
Thank you City Mouse and Mousi-ji...i love you and will keep you in my thoughts until Baby mouse arrives safely, and steals both your hearts away.
“What do you love about the city?” is the question in the front cover of 12 days journal #155
September 14, 2009
Day 1 Pleasure Revolution- Jank
My life will never be the same. I did something today that has changed the way I look at the world, broadened my horizons, made me wonder what I have been doing with my time. Today I went to the Olympic Spa Korean Bathhouse. For those of you who have never been these claims may sound absurd. For those of you who have been, I can hear the resounding “That’s what I am talking about!”
Let me set the stage. We drive up to the spa, the valet takes our car...this is a near first for me, save the couple of times we stayed at the Fairmont in Vancouver. Next we walk in and pay our 15 dollars, plus 2 for the little magic scrubby, which I would not fully appreciate until hours later. Then we walked into a room which looked nothing like I imagined, found our locker and took off all our clothes. Rachel versed me on all the rules:
“Don’t get your hair in the water...they will yell at you!”
“Don't’ talk too loud..... or they will yell at you!”
“Take a shower after coming out of the sauna BEFORE going into the tubs...or else...They will yell at you!“
We entered the main event. A tiled room filled with 3 good sized tubs; one a warm mineral pool, one a cold tub filled with spring water to bring down the temperature and tighten the pores, the last filled with Mogwart tea to detoxify, among other things. Then there was the Jade steam room filled with delicious scents and the dry sauna with all it cedar metallicy goodness.
We moved from pool to pool speaking with the other womyn, mostly about Rachel's overdue pregnancy. They all gushed and told her their stories, treated her with love and showered her with attention. Which is what every very pregnant mom needs when she is playing the waiting game and trying not to wait.
Hot, cold, herbal, cold, sauna, cold, sauna, cold, herbal, cold, steam, cold. This is the work to be done while in the Korean bathhouse. We did a good job.
On to another conversation with some of Rachel's friends, this time about sex and men. It may be cliché but cliché is cliché for a reason, because it is true. When womyn sit around and do ”girlie“ spa things we often talk about men and sex...it is the way of the world.
The next part of the ritual was to scrub. We were stealthy, went into the Jade steam room to start the process, a no no, we were running the risk of being yelled at by doing so. The little scrubby blew my mind, it was taking off layers of skin that may have died back when I was at Shambala, dancing in the dirt. It may not be TMI to mention this on the net but I took off a whole lot of dead skin...or ”jank“ as I have come to know it. Worried about getting busted scrubbing in the Jade room we made our way out to the rinsing/scrubbing area. Here there is a trough into which you can run fresh water, stools and shallow buckets. The idea is to sit on the stool, scrub with the scrubby, then use the bucket to throw water over your body to wash away the ”jank“. By the end my skin was as exfoliated as it has ever been, I was cleaner than I thought possible. It might seem like this would be the end, and I thought it was...I was wrong.
We exited the bath area, spread out a blanket and lay on a warmed tile floor to relax and integrate the experience. Rach and I talked about men some more, finally succumbing to our appetite. We slathered, primped and scented ourselves before leaving, refreshed butterflies emerging from a chrysalis experience.
Did I mention the toilets all had bidets? With an option for the spray to be directed at either the ”front“ or the ”rear“. The place was amazing.
This experience was the inspiration which led me to dub the next 12 days commitment the ”Pleasure Revolution“. It is gunna be a GREAT 12 days!
”What do you do to indulge?” is the question 12 days journal #154
Let me set the stage. We drive up to the spa, the valet takes our car...this is a near first for me, save the couple of times we stayed at the Fairmont in Vancouver. Next we walk in and pay our 15 dollars, plus 2 for the little magic scrubby, which I would not fully appreciate until hours later. Then we walked into a room which looked nothing like I imagined, found our locker and took off all our clothes. Rachel versed me on all the rules:
“Don’t get your hair in the water...they will yell at you!”
“Don't’ talk too loud..... or they will yell at you!”
“Take a shower after coming out of the sauna BEFORE going into the tubs...or else...They will yell at you!“
We entered the main event. A tiled room filled with 3 good sized tubs; one a warm mineral pool, one a cold tub filled with spring water to bring down the temperature and tighten the pores, the last filled with Mogwart tea to detoxify, among other things. Then there was the Jade steam room filled with delicious scents and the dry sauna with all it cedar metallicy goodness.
We moved from pool to pool speaking with the other womyn, mostly about Rachel's overdue pregnancy. They all gushed and told her their stories, treated her with love and showered her with attention. Which is what every very pregnant mom needs when she is playing the waiting game and trying not to wait.
Hot, cold, herbal, cold, sauna, cold, sauna, cold, herbal, cold, steam, cold. This is the work to be done while in the Korean bathhouse. We did a good job.
On to another conversation with some of Rachel's friends, this time about sex and men. It may be cliché but cliché is cliché for a reason, because it is true. When womyn sit around and do ”girlie“ spa things we often talk about men and sex...it is the way of the world.
The next part of the ritual was to scrub. We were stealthy, went into the Jade steam room to start the process, a no no, we were running the risk of being yelled at by doing so. The little scrubby blew my mind, it was taking off layers of skin that may have died back when I was at Shambala, dancing in the dirt. It may not be TMI to mention this on the net but I took off a whole lot of dead skin...or ”jank“ as I have come to know it. Worried about getting busted scrubbing in the Jade room we made our way out to the rinsing/scrubbing area. Here there is a trough into which you can run fresh water, stools and shallow buckets. The idea is to sit on the stool, scrub with the scrubby, then use the bucket to throw water over your body to wash away the ”jank“. By the end my skin was as exfoliated as it has ever been, I was cleaner than I thought possible. It might seem like this would be the end, and I thought it was...I was wrong.
We exited the bath area, spread out a blanket and lay on a warmed tile floor to relax and integrate the experience. Rach and I talked about men some more, finally succumbing to our appetite. We slathered, primped and scented ourselves before leaving, refreshed butterflies emerging from a chrysalis experience.
Did I mention the toilets all had bidets? With an option for the spray to be directed at either the ”front“ or the ”rear“. The place was amazing.
This experience was the inspiration which led me to dub the next 12 days commitment the ”Pleasure Revolution“. It is gunna be a GREAT 12 days!
”What do you do to indulge?” is the question 12 days journal #154
Latest Commitment! Pleasurable Indulgence
I admit that when I woke up this morning I was not enthused about the idea of coming up with the newest commitment, I felt like I was running out of ideas.
I am still here at Rachel's, and No...there is no baby yet. No baby means Rach is in that all too familiar spot expectant mothers find themselves in of fending off well meaning calls, emails and texts enquiring about the anticipated arrival. I wanted to be supportive, get her out of the house, focus on anything but waiting for the labour. We decided on going to do the things she would not get to do when she is a mother of one on the outside.
After a luxurious experience (which you can read about here) I decided that 12 days of indulging and focusing on what brings pleasure would be good for EVERYONE involved! And so....
I commit to including something pleasurable and/or indulgent in my life for the next 12 days. Treating myself to a wonderful pampering today made me aware of how relaxed and clear I was at the end of it. I always love myself, but I can tell you I LIKE myself better when I am relaxed and clear. And so I am going to find a way to include some sort of pleasurable activity or indulgence in my life for the next 12 days....ahhhhh
I am still here at Rachel's, and No...there is no baby yet. No baby means Rach is in that all too familiar spot expectant mothers find themselves in of fending off well meaning calls, emails and texts enquiring about the anticipated arrival. I wanted to be supportive, get her out of the house, focus on anything but waiting for the labour. We decided on going to do the things she would not get to do when she is a mother of one on the outside.
After a luxurious experience (which you can read about here) I decided that 12 days of indulging and focusing on what brings pleasure would be good for EVERYONE involved! And so....
I commit to including something pleasurable and/or indulgent in my life for the next 12 days. Treating myself to a wonderful pampering today made me aware of how relaxed and clear I was at the end of it. I always love myself, but I can tell you I LIKE myself better when I am relaxed and clear. And so I am going to find a way to include some sort of pleasurable activity or indulgence in my life for the next 12 days....ahhhhh
September 13, 2009
Day 12 Walkabout- Set My Soul in Motion
I am on hold with the Esalen reservations office. I am calling to cancel my reservation for the Vinn Marti Soul Motion workshop which begins on September 25th. I have known for a while now that I am no longer going to dance at Esalen with my tribe, I just couldn’t make the phone call before now because I don't want it to be true. I want to go, I also want to go home and celebrate my Lily’s 11th birthday. Recently Lily expressed to me how important it was that I be with her on her birthday. It happens to fall right between the workshop and my monthly classes at Tamalpa. Since returning to Canada, then turning around and flying back to California is not an option due to finances and logistics, I had to make a choice.
For the last two years I have danced with Vinn, each September, on the magical land of the Essalen people. I discovered Soul Motion within weeks of Chris’ accident, and I KNOW it was a gift sent to me from God, to help me dance my way through his injury and into my new life with grace. I am grateful beyond expression for Soul Motion, for all the family it has brought me, for all the lessons and joys.
Rachel and James, who are upstairs talking when the are SUPPOSE to be napping, are part of the tribe. I met James first, he introduced me to Rachel...a womyn who is frequently mistaken as my sister. We have had a bit of a funny relationship, intense at times. We live thousands of miles away from one another and yet here I am, in their living room, being given the honour of being present at the birth of the baby who will make them both parents for the first time.
(My first time at Esalen, my first time dancing Soul Motion, my first time for so many things)
Rachel and James are not the only friends who I have become very close to through the dance. I met Jeremy, my first ever long term lover since I was married over 12 years ago, on the floor, in the dance dome on the Big Sur Coast line. I remember the first time he danced past me, his fleece neck warmer making him look a little like a turtle emerging from his shell, and emerge he did. This September will be the 1 year anniversary of our meeting, sadly it will not be marked by an anniversary dance in the dome. He has promised to take along the magic mushroom I felted for him and put it on the altar. If any of you reading this see it, please pick me up and dance with me round the room. I would be so very grateful.
There are so many more I have met, Aletia, JJ, Tory, Hollie, Josie, Phillip, Lamara, Shems, Katie, Elizabeth, Zuza, Walter, Mara, Jenz, Kincade, Jovinna, Lance and and AND...so many more I want to name, but I want to go see the beach before this baby is born, so instead I am going to go for a walk. I have a feeling that I will cry a little when I see the Pacific; imagine that just a hundred miles up the coast the tubs, lodge and dance dome are waiting for the dancers to arrive on the 25th. I will imagine you all sitting on the deck, long glass tables filled with abundant food grown by Tareck and Benjamin et el. I will imagine the fascinating conversations, the laughter, the luxury of only having to decide where to sit and when to go tubbing. I will imagine the floor of the big marshmallow dance dome, bodies strewn in warm up positions of 50 different kinds. I will imagine Vinn's voice, a whisper through the mic and over the speaker, repeating words that speak of presence and acceptance and “begin again”. I imagine this scene as I have witnessed it dozens of times, each time the same, each time different. I imagine all of this without me there. It makes me sad, it makes me ecstatic, it makes me all the things that exist between these two.
I will see you all in January. I love you
“Was there a time when you had to choose between two things that you cared deeply about?” is the question in 12 days journal #153
For the last two years I have danced with Vinn, each September, on the magical land of the Essalen people. I discovered Soul Motion within weeks of Chris’ accident, and I KNOW it was a gift sent to me from God, to help me dance my way through his injury and into my new life with grace. I am grateful beyond expression for Soul Motion, for all the family it has brought me, for all the lessons and joys.
Rachel and James, who are upstairs talking when the are SUPPOSE to be napping, are part of the tribe. I met James first, he introduced me to Rachel...a womyn who is frequently mistaken as my sister. We have had a bit of a funny relationship, intense at times. We live thousands of miles away from one another and yet here I am, in their living room, being given the honour of being present at the birth of the baby who will make them both parents for the first time.
(My first time at Esalen, my first time dancing Soul Motion, my first time for so many things)
Rachel and James are not the only friends who I have become very close to through the dance. I met Jeremy, my first ever long term lover since I was married over 12 years ago, on the floor, in the dance dome on the Big Sur Coast line. I remember the first time he danced past me, his fleece neck warmer making him look a little like a turtle emerging from his shell, and emerge he did. This September will be the 1 year anniversary of our meeting, sadly it will not be marked by an anniversary dance in the dome. He has promised to take along the magic mushroom I felted for him and put it on the altar. If any of you reading this see it, please pick me up and dance with me round the room. I would be so very grateful.
There are so many more I have met, Aletia, JJ, Tory, Hollie, Josie, Phillip, Lamara, Shems, Katie, Elizabeth, Zuza, Walter, Mara, Jenz, Kincade, Jovinna, Lance and and AND...so many more I want to name, but I want to go see the beach before this baby is born, so instead I am going to go for a walk. I have a feeling that I will cry a little when I see the Pacific; imagine that just a hundred miles up the coast the tubs, lodge and dance dome are waiting for the dancers to arrive on the 25th. I will imagine you all sitting on the deck, long glass tables filled with abundant food grown by Tareck and Benjamin et el. I will imagine the fascinating conversations, the laughter, the luxury of only having to decide where to sit and when to go tubbing. I will imagine the floor of the big marshmallow dance dome, bodies strewn in warm up positions of 50 different kinds. I will imagine Vinn's voice, a whisper through the mic and over the speaker, repeating words that speak of presence and acceptance and “begin again”. I imagine this scene as I have witnessed it dozens of times, each time the same, each time different. I imagine all of this without me there. It makes me sad, it makes me ecstatic, it makes me all the things that exist between these two.
I will see you all in January. I love you
“Was there a time when you had to choose between two things that you cared deeply about?” is the question in 12 days journal #153
September 12, 2009
Day 11 Walkabout- L.A.
I haven’t really been speaking about my current commitment a whole lot, I notice this as I fly through the air towards Sacramento, California, my last stop before Los Angeles. I have walked a little more than normal, but I fully admit the vague nature of this commitment has translated into a vague level of commitment. Lesson learned.
I did walk yesterday, walked away from my house in anger and found the swing which has brought me much solace in this turbulent time. Later I walked back to the house, calmer, having spent a good amount of energy pumping away my tumble of emotions. Swings are great for this. When I arrived home I ended up in a heated conversation with my husband and his partner, there were tears, accusations, hugs and expressions of understanding. Eventually Michael came home from work and then there were four of us talking. We talked and talked and talked until we all went to bed. There were pit stops along the way, one to sample the mash potatoes Rosy had made all by herself and eat a quick dinner with my mom and the girls; another for Michael to read to Rose before bed and for me to lie with her until she fell asleep. And then we all talked some more. Perhaps I should have made this the commitment of talking rather than walking, at least that way I would be doing the commitment in a manner which didn’t feel kinda like faking it.
That was yesterday, today I am en-route to LA, to be with my VERY pregnant friend Rachel and her talented partner James, of Puppetji fame. They are having a baby, and if I have any say (which I don’t) the baby will be born while I am there. Today is actually Rachel's due date, which means nothing since babies come when babies are ready. The plan for the 4 glorious days I get to spend with these 2 (3?) is to frolic, have fun, kick back, hang, and if I am blessed, be there for the birth of a wonderful little light being.
Preparing for the birth of 3 babies has taught me that WALKING is great for bringing on labour. So I will finally be making good on my commitment. I plan to walk round Venice Beach with a glorious pregnant Goddess and my favourite puppeteer, and walk a baby right on into this world. Imagine that?! If the final day of the walking commitment culminated in the birth of a baby...wow. Makes me think that maybe I want to do it again...maybe ;o)
In case you are not familiar with Puppetji...have a look.
Oh right a question, I almost forgot. Hmmmm. How about.....“What is the story of your birth?“ for the question in 12 days journal #152
I did walk yesterday, walked away from my house in anger and found the swing which has brought me much solace in this turbulent time. Later I walked back to the house, calmer, having spent a good amount of energy pumping away my tumble of emotions. Swings are great for this. When I arrived home I ended up in a heated conversation with my husband and his partner, there were tears, accusations, hugs and expressions of understanding. Eventually Michael came home from work and then there were four of us talking. We talked and talked and talked until we all went to bed. There were pit stops along the way, one to sample the mash potatoes Rosy had made all by herself and eat a quick dinner with my mom and the girls; another for Michael to read to Rose before bed and for me to lie with her until she fell asleep. And then we all talked some more. Perhaps I should have made this the commitment of talking rather than walking, at least that way I would be doing the commitment in a manner which didn’t feel kinda like faking it.
That was yesterday, today I am en-route to LA, to be with my VERY pregnant friend Rachel and her talented partner James, of Puppetji fame. They are having a baby, and if I have any say (which I don’t) the baby will be born while I am there. Today is actually Rachel's due date, which means nothing since babies come when babies are ready. The plan for the 4 glorious days I get to spend with these 2 (3?) is to frolic, have fun, kick back, hang, and if I am blessed, be there for the birth of a wonderful little light being.
Preparing for the birth of 3 babies has taught me that WALKING is great for bringing on labour. So I will finally be making good on my commitment. I plan to walk round Venice Beach with a glorious pregnant Goddess and my favourite puppeteer, and walk a baby right on into this world. Imagine that?! If the final day of the walking commitment culminated in the birth of a baby...wow. Makes me think that maybe I want to do it again...maybe ;o)
In case you are not familiar with Puppetji...have a look.
Oh right a question, I almost forgot. Hmmmm. How about.....“What is the story of your birth?“ for the question in 12 days journal #152
September 11, 2009
Day 10 Walkabout- This Mess We're in
I couldn’t figure it out, the reason for this deep sadness, this feeling of being unloved and alone that I was wrestling with this morning. I know neither is even remotely true. My entry for today kept churning round my brain. I planned on writing something about not writing anything at all. That anything real would be depressing and infectious to my readers, anything happy or informative would be bullshit since I can barely stop myself from crying. Crying over what? I had ideas, but couldn’t settle on the why. It was when I opened my computer, clicked on today's date to start an entry, and burst into tears, that I knew. I saw the date and remembered what happened 3 years ago on this day, I finally knew why this deep well of sadness had opened and was attempting to lure me to the bottom.
I have a story I have never really told. I was asked not to share it by one of the people involved, I chose to comply. By not telling I lost friends, confidence, and self love. It has been three years now. It is time to tell my story.
Three years ago was the beginning of an end. What ended was a friendship that was dear to me, to say it was dear doesn’t even come close describing it. I don’t even know anymore if the depth of this friendship was reciprocal. I was told at the time that it was, by a beautiful man whose smile I still see when I close my eyes. I still carry a small inconsequential note that he wrote to me in my wallet, it is crumpled and stained and says
“I was here- will have replenished promise
<3 PA"
As can often happen with a deep friendship between a man and a womyn, the lines began to blur. We both got confused. I knew I wanted him to be a close friend for a very long time, I knew he was married and monogamous, I knew that keeping him as a friend meant keeping my distance. This is why I would only hug him off to one side when we said good-bye and hello, why I never kissed him during these off-side hugs despite the fact that it was common amongst our friends. I was afraid of becoming transparent, of him and the world seeing how much I cared for him, there was a DEEP knowing that this would not be understood, would be seen as dangerous. I loved him and though he is beautiful, sexy, spiritual and wonderful beyond words, I did not want to be romantically involved, because this would mean lying, being out of integrity and hurting people I loved. On September 11th 2006 events transpired that eventually led to the end of our friendship.
He called me late at night, he was distraught, said he needed someone to talk to. I could say I didn't think of the consequences of inviting him over, but this is not true, I knew, I invited him anyway. Chris was working nights, the kids were asleep. He arrived and shortly there after he was sitting on the floor, his head in my lap as I sat on the couch. He cried, told me the way I stroked his hair reminded him of his mother. He spoke of a deep sadness, a desire to run away from the world, I listened, offered encouragement to let it out. He spoke of the death of both of his parents and how he was struggling to communicate with those he loved. It was intimate, I felt honoured to be the friend he turned to, felt safe with. It also felt wonderful to hold him in my arms, I had been feeling very lonely, disconnected from my body as well as disconnected from Chris as he was spiralling into a deep depression.
We kissed that night and held each other in my living room. We soothed the deep sadness we had both been feeling that day, body to body, soul to soul, in a way that felt very natural and wholesome. It was one night, all our clothes stayed on. We never kissed or embraced ever again.
At the end of the night we made a pact to be transparent, share with our partners what had happened. I knew Chris would understand. We had been polyamorous for years by this point, so the kiss was immaterial. What was harder was explaining to him that I felt something in that embrace and kiss that I wasn't getting from our relationship. My friends partner, a close friend of mine, did not take it as well. At the time I imagined that time and an eventual understanding would heal the wound that was opened by our closeness, this never happened. Our families are now estranged.
I understand the feelings, reactions and responses of everyone involved. We were all hurting, it was messy, light was flooded into places kept dark by fear. I look back now and remember the deep feelings of abandonment, how misunderstood I felt, and know that it was my choices that created the most pain for me. Closing up, hiding myself away, walking into the grocery store, head hung, an imaginary Scarlet Letter upon my chest. THIS is what lost me friends, this hiding convinced the community that an "affair" had taken place, that we had done something very "wrong".
I am not hiding anymore.
What happened that day was not wrong. We were in pain, seeking connection and understanding. I think back to the feeling of holding him in my arms as he wept, listening to the uncensored flow that had been dammed for so long, and KNOW that my intentions were to love and support, to SEE one who needed to be seen. Yes the kiss and close embrace were something I knew, even as I was doing it, would feel like betrayal to his partner. I knew this, and still I wouldn't change it. This may seem unapologetic, maybe even crass, like a contradiction given how I feel about integrity, and it is. I still can not think of it as "wrong". If others want to see it as wrong, that is their prerogative, I accept it, respect it, understand it and yet can not choose it.
If you ever read this my love, know that I still love you. Am still grateful for our friendship. I expect nothing of you, and that as always, loving you is enough.
The piece that is missing from this story, one I am reluctant to add since this entry is already over 1000 words, is the question of why did it happen this day? My friend is, like me, a sensitive deeply connected soul, he is a spiritual man. THIS is the reason I fell in love with him, he loved God in a way that so closely resembled my own love, I felt closer to God and my own truth just by being with him. It took me a year to figure out that he arrived on my doorstep the night of September 11th 2006, the 5th anniversary of a tragedy that effected the world. All politics or ideas of responsibility aside, I believe that most could agree that this was a day of suffering. It is an aniversary that carries a shadow of fear, terror and sadness. The world changed on this day 8 years ago, a change that was surreal and jarring. I believe that this was the reason that we were both so upset, being carried on a wave of emotion that while we played a part did not belong to us. Being so tapped into the collective suffering and joys of the planet makes us susceptible to taking on emotional upheaval that isn't ours.
Seems silly doesn't it? To be all upset one day, not know where it is coming from, freak out, have an existential crisis, kiss a friend and end a friendship forever....sigh.
The last piece I will add is that my friend told me a few days later that the song This Mess We're In by PJ Harvey and Thom Yorke of Radiohead had become "our song". It took me a while to connect that this song is about a one time union which happens in the wake of September 11th...I often wonder if he ever made the connection.
“What does the day September 11th mean to you?” is the question in 12 days journal #151
I have a story I have never really told. I was asked not to share it by one of the people involved, I chose to comply. By not telling I lost friends, confidence, and self love. It has been three years now. It is time to tell my story.
Three years ago was the beginning of an end. What ended was a friendship that was dear to me, to say it was dear doesn’t even come close describing it. I don’t even know anymore if the depth of this friendship was reciprocal. I was told at the time that it was, by a beautiful man whose smile I still see when I close my eyes. I still carry a small inconsequential note that he wrote to me in my wallet, it is crumpled and stained and says
“I was here- will have replenished promise
<3 PA"
As can often happen with a deep friendship between a man and a womyn, the lines began to blur. We both got confused. I knew I wanted him to be a close friend for a very long time, I knew he was married and monogamous, I knew that keeping him as a friend meant keeping my distance. This is why I would only hug him off to one side when we said good-bye and hello, why I never kissed him during these off-side hugs despite the fact that it was common amongst our friends. I was afraid of becoming transparent, of him and the world seeing how much I cared for him, there was a DEEP knowing that this would not be understood, would be seen as dangerous. I loved him and though he is beautiful, sexy, spiritual and wonderful beyond words, I did not want to be romantically involved, because this would mean lying, being out of integrity and hurting people I loved. On September 11th 2006 events transpired that eventually led to the end of our friendship.
He called me late at night, he was distraught, said he needed someone to talk to. I could say I didn't think of the consequences of inviting him over, but this is not true, I knew, I invited him anyway. Chris was working nights, the kids were asleep. He arrived and shortly there after he was sitting on the floor, his head in my lap as I sat on the couch. He cried, told me the way I stroked his hair reminded him of his mother. He spoke of a deep sadness, a desire to run away from the world, I listened, offered encouragement to let it out. He spoke of the death of both of his parents and how he was struggling to communicate with those he loved. It was intimate, I felt honoured to be the friend he turned to, felt safe with. It also felt wonderful to hold him in my arms, I had been feeling very lonely, disconnected from my body as well as disconnected from Chris as he was spiralling into a deep depression.
We kissed that night and held each other in my living room. We soothed the deep sadness we had both been feeling that day, body to body, soul to soul, in a way that felt very natural and wholesome. It was one night, all our clothes stayed on. We never kissed or embraced ever again.
At the end of the night we made a pact to be transparent, share with our partners what had happened. I knew Chris would understand. We had been polyamorous for years by this point, so the kiss was immaterial. What was harder was explaining to him that I felt something in that embrace and kiss that I wasn't getting from our relationship. My friends partner, a close friend of mine, did not take it as well. At the time I imagined that time and an eventual understanding would heal the wound that was opened by our closeness, this never happened. Our families are now estranged.
I understand the feelings, reactions and responses of everyone involved. We were all hurting, it was messy, light was flooded into places kept dark by fear. I look back now and remember the deep feelings of abandonment, how misunderstood I felt, and know that it was my choices that created the most pain for me. Closing up, hiding myself away, walking into the grocery store, head hung, an imaginary Scarlet Letter upon my chest. THIS is what lost me friends, this hiding convinced the community that an "affair" had taken place, that we had done something very "wrong".
I am not hiding anymore.
What happened that day was not wrong. We were in pain, seeking connection and understanding. I think back to the feeling of holding him in my arms as he wept, listening to the uncensored flow that had been dammed for so long, and KNOW that my intentions were to love and support, to SEE one who needed to be seen. Yes the kiss and close embrace were something I knew, even as I was doing it, would feel like betrayal to his partner. I knew this, and still I wouldn't change it. This may seem unapologetic, maybe even crass, like a contradiction given how I feel about integrity, and it is. I still can not think of it as "wrong". If others want to see it as wrong, that is their prerogative, I accept it, respect it, understand it and yet can not choose it.
If you ever read this my love, know that I still love you. Am still grateful for our friendship. I expect nothing of you, and that as always, loving you is enough.
The piece that is missing from this story, one I am reluctant to add since this entry is already over 1000 words, is the question of why did it happen this day? My friend is, like me, a sensitive deeply connected soul, he is a spiritual man. THIS is the reason I fell in love with him, he loved God in a way that so closely resembled my own love, I felt closer to God and my own truth just by being with him. It took me a year to figure out that he arrived on my doorstep the night of September 11th 2006, the 5th anniversary of a tragedy that effected the world. All politics or ideas of responsibility aside, I believe that most could agree that this was a day of suffering. It is an aniversary that carries a shadow of fear, terror and sadness. The world changed on this day 8 years ago, a change that was surreal and jarring. I believe that this was the reason that we were both so upset, being carried on a wave of emotion that while we played a part did not belong to us. Being so tapped into the collective suffering and joys of the planet makes us susceptible to taking on emotional upheaval that isn't ours.
Seems silly doesn't it? To be all upset one day, not know where it is coming from, freak out, have an existential crisis, kiss a friend and end a friendship forever....sigh.
The last piece I will add is that my friend told me a few days later that the song This Mess We're In by PJ Harvey and Thom Yorke of Radiohead had become "our song". It took me a while to connect that this song is about a one time union which happens in the wake of September 11th...I often wonder if he ever made the connection.
“What does the day September 11th mean to you?” is the question in 12 days journal #151
September 10, 2009
Day 9 Walkabout- Screamer
My life is such a roller-coaster lately. I have ridden extreme highs and lows, experienced ecstasy and pain in the last 24 hours, actually to be more concise I have experienced all this in the last 4 hours. And as on a roller-coaster all I can do right now is hold on, listen for the clunk, clunk, clunk as that big chain pulls the cars to the highest point and create personal mantras to deal:
“It will all be over soon”
“This is going to be fun”
“Holy shit what was I thinking“
”This lack of control is exhilarating!”
All these mantras rolled up into one intense present moment spilling into the next intense and present moment ,over and over, creating an immediate past made up of experience and thoughts devoid of control. This, is my life at the moment. I have heard it said many times by many people that control is an illusion, and I know this, knew this. Right now I FEEL this.
I got out my computer to check my “to do” list, I am leaving town in a couple of days, back to California I go. There are logistical tasks which need to be ticked, important faxes and documents which need packing, sending and signing, it is really difficult to do this while bumping round this roller-coaster car. This giant bar which has been pulled down a little tighter than is comfortable, a little tighter than my lungs would like as they desperately claw at the air for more more more. This big black padded safety restraint makes the fax button hard to reach, makes my signature illegible, or more illegible than usual I should say. Perhaps this is the reason why my signature has always been this way, a couple of dramatic scratches and a runaway tail, maybe this roller-coaster is my pre-set, my default, and I just mistake the slower windy loops as moments of freedom from this wild ride.
I sit here on a bench outside Oso Negro, aware in this moment of how I keep putting my hands up to my face, pulling the slowly crinkling skin at the corner of my eyes towards my temples, gently encouraging my eyes to shut, feeling the coolness of my palms against the corners of my jaw bone. I imagine this bone as I open my mouth, teeth attached to shiny pink skin which grows into the smooth pitted flesh of my cheek, my tongues imprint permanently embossed here, years of sitting idle, not speaking my truth. My remedy seems to be transferring the job of my tongue to my fingers, they find the keys which correspond to the letter of the words which tell the tale of my roller-coaster ride and take away the neatly placed veil which hides how manic I often feel.
And as I type this I hear Kelly say how nervous she feels about being interviewed by a live TV show this evening, she says she doesn’t know what to say, I stop typing and offer support and advice
“If you loose it and don’t know what to do just say how you spent the morning sharing a watermelon, that you grew in your very own garden, with you lover...and his wife. This will be enough to wow them.”
See...roller-coaster life. Would you like to step on and come for a ride?
“Do you belive you have control over you life?” is the question in 12 days journal #150
“It will all be over soon”
“This is going to be fun”
“Holy shit what was I thinking“
”This lack of control is exhilarating!”
All these mantras rolled up into one intense present moment spilling into the next intense and present moment ,over and over, creating an immediate past made up of experience and thoughts devoid of control. This, is my life at the moment. I have heard it said many times by many people that control is an illusion, and I know this, knew this. Right now I FEEL this.
I got out my computer to check my “to do” list, I am leaving town in a couple of days, back to California I go. There are logistical tasks which need to be ticked, important faxes and documents which need packing, sending and signing, it is really difficult to do this while bumping round this roller-coaster car. This giant bar which has been pulled down a little tighter than is comfortable, a little tighter than my lungs would like as they desperately claw at the air for more more more. This big black padded safety restraint makes the fax button hard to reach, makes my signature illegible, or more illegible than usual I should say. Perhaps this is the reason why my signature has always been this way, a couple of dramatic scratches and a runaway tail, maybe this roller-coaster is my pre-set, my default, and I just mistake the slower windy loops as moments of freedom from this wild ride.
I sit here on a bench outside Oso Negro, aware in this moment of how I keep putting my hands up to my face, pulling the slowly crinkling skin at the corner of my eyes towards my temples, gently encouraging my eyes to shut, feeling the coolness of my palms against the corners of my jaw bone. I imagine this bone as I open my mouth, teeth attached to shiny pink skin which grows into the smooth pitted flesh of my cheek, my tongues imprint permanently embossed here, years of sitting idle, not speaking my truth. My remedy seems to be transferring the job of my tongue to my fingers, they find the keys which correspond to the letter of the words which tell the tale of my roller-coaster ride and take away the neatly placed veil which hides how manic I often feel.
And as I type this I hear Kelly say how nervous she feels about being interviewed by a live TV show this evening, she says she doesn’t know what to say, I stop typing and offer support and advice
“If you loose it and don’t know what to do just say how you spent the morning sharing a watermelon, that you grew in your very own garden, with you lover...and his wife. This will be enough to wow them.”
See...roller-coaster life. Would you like to step on and come for a ride?
“Do you belive you have control over you life?” is the question in 12 days journal #150
September 9, 2009
Day 8 Walkabout- Bloody Confusion
Has there ever been a time when you thought you were in one place then suddenly found yourself somewhere completely different? I am not talking about a physical experience. I am talking about when I am feeling loving and connected then... BOOM I realize I have somehow been transported a million miles away. An unpleasant and inextricable melange of emotions envelopes me. I often do not communicate this to others around me, out of confusion, not knowing what is going on for me or, as is more often the case, because of self judgement, deciding that I am too sensitive is usually what pops up and attacks my weepy heart. I come up with lots of reasons to not communicate in these moments, decide it might start a fight, or am fearful that I am imagining the disconnect and will look neurotic or dramatic, and there is of course the ever present inarticulation which seems to accompany my sadness....sigh.
This morning was a combination of all I mentioned and an idea that my drama would make Michael late(r?) for work, so I didn’t say anything. Reading this may even make you believe something B_I_G happened, it didn’t, it is quite possible I suppose that this IS all in my head. Did I mention I am in my moon time? How cliché is all of this? So now I am left with what to do, go for coffee? Meet up with friends, let a new conversation take the place of this mornings events. Will this reveal to me that nothing really happened, that this was all in my moon time sensitive mind? Or is this me running away, not dealing, cursing myself to live this dynamic out time and time again, until I deal with it and put it to rest? I am so bloody confused...ha...pun most definitely intended.
Right now I am hiding behind this computer screen , not dealing, well I am, I am dealing with this journal writing software and the keys of my mac. I am NOT dealing with the person in the kitchen. I won’t be able to hide for long though, since this is going up on the net any minute now. I have discovered that there are not a lot of places to hide when you post your life’s story on the internet, imagine that.
“What confuses you about life?” is the question in 12 days journal #149
(It is actually cellulose fibre dye...but I love the pic and wanted to both share and shock! tee hee)
This morning was a combination of all I mentioned and an idea that my drama would make Michael late(r?) for work, so I didn’t say anything. Reading this may even make you believe something B_I_G happened, it didn’t, it is quite possible I suppose that this IS all in my head. Did I mention I am in my moon time? How cliché is all of this? So now I am left with what to do, go for coffee? Meet up with friends, let a new conversation take the place of this mornings events. Will this reveal to me that nothing really happened, that this was all in my moon time sensitive mind? Or is this me running away, not dealing, cursing myself to live this dynamic out time and time again, until I deal with it and put it to rest? I am so bloody confused...ha...pun most definitely intended.
Right now I am hiding behind this computer screen , not dealing, well I am, I am dealing with this journal writing software and the keys of my mac. I am NOT dealing with the person in the kitchen. I won’t be able to hide for long though, since this is going up on the net any minute now. I have discovered that there are not a lot of places to hide when you post your life’s story on the internet, imagine that.
“What confuses you about life?” is the question in 12 days journal #149
(It is actually cellulose fibre dye...but I love the pic and wanted to both share and shock! tee hee)
September 8, 2009
Day 7 Walkabout- All over the place!
The Rose Ceremony is a Waldorf Education right of passage. Most Waldorf schools go to grade 8. When a new batch of grade one students ruck up to the school in September it is the grade 8’s that welcome them in. These older students each take one of the younger under their wing and become a mentor to them through out the school year, the ritual which starts this relationship is called the Rose Ceremony. A Rose is passed to the grade one student by their grade 8 mentor in front of the whole school on the first day of classes. Then at the end of the year the same ceremony is done in reverse, this time the grade one students give a rose to the grade 8’s as they say good bye to their school, and most often to Waldorf education all together since there are few high schools which follow the Waldorf curriculum. It is an emotional ceremony made that much more so this year because our family has Miss Rosemary going into grade 1 and Miss Ayla in her last year of Waldorf education in grade 8.
In true Raabis fashion we added to the emotionality and adventure by showing up for the ceremony with the whole family, and by this I mean the WHOLE family. My mom, my partner, and my husbands partner went to watch our daughters in this moving ritual. This was the first time I had stepped onto the school grounds with Michael. Chris had been with Kelly to pick up the kids a few times last year but back then they called themselves “friends”.
I experience the Waldorf community to be quite conservative. This is not to say that they ARE conservative, “conservative“ is a relative term, most of them seem more conservative than me. To be more truthful, I admit by conservative I mean I am afraid that they judge me. Stepping into that parking lot was not easy, holding Michael's hand while sitting next to Chris, was not easy. Being there with the support of Michael and Kelly though, that was easy. Having four adults care for 3 children brings things back into balance.
I used to joke that I didn’t know why on earth I had three kids, that Chris and I had out numbered ourselves. When Chris was working 60 hour weeks I was definitely not enough parent for all three of them. Now there seems to be enough support and time to get done what needs to get done, this was not my experience before Michael and Kelly came along. Our lives look different from other peoples lives in that we have a alternatively configured family, and different in this sense means easier. Believe me there are other ways in which it is not easier. One of my friends daughters asked Michael if he loved me in the ”want to marry her“ kind of way, he said he did, but that this was not possible, and even illegal as it would make me a bigamist. Being in a polyamourous flavoured polyfidelitous relationship with a family of 7 has its ease and its difficulties, just like all relationships...huh... not so different after-all.
I had a talk with a friend today, one who I dearly love and supports me with completely unconditional love. She asked to have tea, she wants to talk about what is going on in our family. Her daughter is one of Lily’s best friends. She wants to be able to support all our children in this transition, hers and mine. She wants to ”normalize“ what is going on in our family in order for the kids to see that the parents get it, are not afraid and that we all support each other. I love her to the bottom of my heart. It couldn’t have been easy for her to call up and ask me this, and she did anyway. Pam I love ya.
Pam’s call for more knowledge and transparency got me to thinking that this blog is a great vehicle for more clarity around our particular flavour of Polyamory and polyamory in general. So I am going to be talking about Polyamory a little more on the blog in the next little while, dropping links and suggestions of books and really opening up about this part of our lives. The following link is just your run of the mill Wikipedia link, it is a good one, which surprises me because often Wikipedia is a little lacking. This entry though is very informative. I mention Polyfidelity above, the term is explained in the link...I will be talking about it a little more later.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polyamory
Whew...what a long rambling post! And to think the post that I started with, and then deleted, was dead boring!
”Is there something you would like your family or community to know about you?“ is the question in 12 days journal #148
In true Raabis fashion we added to the emotionality and adventure by showing up for the ceremony with the whole family, and by this I mean the WHOLE family. My mom, my partner, and my husbands partner went to watch our daughters in this moving ritual. This was the first time I had stepped onto the school grounds with Michael. Chris had been with Kelly to pick up the kids a few times last year but back then they called themselves “friends”.
I experience the Waldorf community to be quite conservative. This is not to say that they ARE conservative, “conservative“ is a relative term, most of them seem more conservative than me. To be more truthful, I admit by conservative I mean I am afraid that they judge me. Stepping into that parking lot was not easy, holding Michael's hand while sitting next to Chris, was not easy. Being there with the support of Michael and Kelly though, that was easy. Having four adults care for 3 children brings things back into balance.
I used to joke that I didn’t know why on earth I had three kids, that Chris and I had out numbered ourselves. When Chris was working 60 hour weeks I was definitely not enough parent for all three of them. Now there seems to be enough support and time to get done what needs to get done, this was not my experience before Michael and Kelly came along. Our lives look different from other peoples lives in that we have a alternatively configured family, and different in this sense means easier. Believe me there are other ways in which it is not easier. One of my friends daughters asked Michael if he loved me in the ”want to marry her“ kind of way, he said he did, but that this was not possible, and even illegal as it would make me a bigamist. Being in a polyamourous flavoured polyfidelitous relationship with a family of 7 has its ease and its difficulties, just like all relationships...huh... not so different after-all.
I had a talk with a friend today, one who I dearly love and supports me with completely unconditional love. She asked to have tea, she wants to talk about what is going on in our family. Her daughter is one of Lily’s best friends. She wants to be able to support all our children in this transition, hers and mine. She wants to ”normalize“ what is going on in our family in order for the kids to see that the parents get it, are not afraid and that we all support each other. I love her to the bottom of my heart. It couldn’t have been easy for her to call up and ask me this, and she did anyway. Pam I love ya.
Pam’s call for more knowledge and transparency got me to thinking that this blog is a great vehicle for more clarity around our particular flavour of Polyamory and polyamory in general. So I am going to be talking about Polyamory a little more on the blog in the next little while, dropping links and suggestions of books and really opening up about this part of our lives. The following link is just your run of the mill Wikipedia link, it is a good one, which surprises me because often Wikipedia is a little lacking. This entry though is very informative. I mention Polyfidelity above, the term is explained in the link...I will be talking about it a little more later.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polyamory
Whew...what a long rambling post! And to think the post that I started with, and then deleted, was dead boring!
”Is there something you would like your family or community to know about you?“ is the question in 12 days journal #148
September 7, 2009
Day 6 Walkabout- So Fast
Tomorrow is Rosy’s first day of school. “Real school” she calls it, meaning not kindergarten. She went to kindergarten last year which felt to me like her first year of school, this year though she goes for full days.
Oh how my life has changed. Three years ago was the first time ANY of my children went to a school of any kind. From the beginning we homeschooled, and eventually were part of a parent run homeschool co-operative that was multi aged and very home spun. When Ayla was 11 she put her foot down, she wanted to go to “real school”. She and Lily started at Alta Lake, the Whistler Waldorf School. I taught there that year as the handwork teacher. A year later we moved to Nelson, Chris got into his accident and “real school” became our saving grace.
Things were rough after Chris’ accident, really rough, so rough in fact that even I have not fully admitted to myself all that went on. Having a place for the girls to go during these times was of immeasurable support, homeschooling was no longer an option for our family. Rose though, she was still little, she tagged along and was a big part of Chris’s recovery, they were buddies. Even last year, when she was in kindergarten for 3 hours a day 4 days a week, most days Chris and her hung out. He was able to get time to himself in the mornings, the rest of the day he took care of he and Rosy’s needs and little else, this was part of his prescribed recovery from his Neuro-Psychologist. I haven’t asked him yet how he feels about loosing his little buddy. Makes me wonder what this year will look like, how this will change us. What this new era in our lives is all about.
All my babies in school full time...wow, I know it sounds cliché, but they really do grow up so fast.
“How has schooling played a role in your life?” is the question in 12 days journal #147
Oh how my life has changed. Three years ago was the first time ANY of my children went to a school of any kind. From the beginning we homeschooled, and eventually were part of a parent run homeschool co-operative that was multi aged and very home spun. When Ayla was 11 she put her foot down, she wanted to go to “real school”. She and Lily started at Alta Lake, the Whistler Waldorf School. I taught there that year as the handwork teacher. A year later we moved to Nelson, Chris got into his accident and “real school” became our saving grace.
Things were rough after Chris’ accident, really rough, so rough in fact that even I have not fully admitted to myself all that went on. Having a place for the girls to go during these times was of immeasurable support, homeschooling was no longer an option for our family. Rose though, she was still little, she tagged along and was a big part of Chris’s recovery, they were buddies. Even last year, when she was in kindergarten for 3 hours a day 4 days a week, most days Chris and her hung out. He was able to get time to himself in the mornings, the rest of the day he took care of he and Rosy’s needs and little else, this was part of his prescribed recovery from his Neuro-Psychologist. I haven’t asked him yet how he feels about loosing his little buddy. Makes me wonder what this year will look like, how this will change us. What this new era in our lives is all about.
All my babies in school full time...wow, I know it sounds cliché, but they really do grow up so fast.
“How has schooling played a role in your life?” is the question in 12 days journal #147
September 6, 2009
Day 5 Walkabout- Quitting
I am quitting tobacco today.
It might surprise you that I smoke tobacco...it surprises me too! I started smoking exactly 3 moons ago. I went 35 years and only ever smoked it about 4 times; then as I walked up to a full moon dance party in June for some reason I decided to smoke with friends. I thought of course that it would be just that once, as you may know it is somewhat of an addictive substance.
Just before leaving the States 3 weeks ago, Michael and I bought a pack of 100% organic and additive free, American Spirit tailor-mades. We have been breaking them up and smoking small hand-rolled cigarettes a couple times a day. I don’t know that I am actually addicted to tobacco itself, I think it is the ritual I am addicted to. There is something about taking the time to sit while a cigarette is prepared, rolling is a skill I have come to appreciate. Then there is the sharing, passing round the circle while conversing. I know of course the same could be done with a coconut, one can prepare it and it can be shared amidst conversation. I do so love coconuts...and now tobacco. But today I am quitting.
We are about to smoke the last one...right now...and so this is where I leave you, to go smoke my last cigarette.
“Is there something you want to quit?“ is the question for 12 days journal #146
It might surprise you that I smoke tobacco...it surprises me too! I started smoking exactly 3 moons ago. I went 35 years and only ever smoked it about 4 times; then as I walked up to a full moon dance party in June for some reason I decided to smoke with friends. I thought of course that it would be just that once, as you may know it is somewhat of an addictive substance.
Just before leaving the States 3 weeks ago, Michael and I bought a pack of 100% organic and additive free, American Spirit tailor-mades. We have been breaking them up and smoking small hand-rolled cigarettes a couple times a day. I don’t know that I am actually addicted to tobacco itself, I think it is the ritual I am addicted to. There is something about taking the time to sit while a cigarette is prepared, rolling is a skill I have come to appreciate. Then there is the sharing, passing round the circle while conversing. I know of course the same could be done with a coconut, one can prepare it and it can be shared amidst conversation. I do so love coconuts...and now tobacco. But today I am quitting.
We are about to smoke the last one...right now...and so this is where I leave you, to go smoke my last cigarette.
“Is there something you want to quit?“ is the question for 12 days journal #146
September 5, 2009
Day 4 Walkabout- Walk...that's it
Well I haven’t walked a whole lot today, AND I am way behind on entries...yes I am falling behind again...sigh. So right now I am going for a walk instead of writing.
That’s it folks!
“What role does walking play in your life?“ is the question in 12 days journal #145
That’s it folks!
“What role does walking play in your life?“ is the question in 12 days journal #145
September 4, 2009
Day 3 Walkabout- Ashina
I stood today in a room which inspired me to work, love, play and pray. I felt at home. I was in awe. I felt moved to tears by the shear holy magic of this tiny little meditation dome.
Michael and I went out to Winlaw to visit Ashina. Ashina is a multi family intentional community, built on principles of communal living in harmony with nature. We were invited to share a potluck, circle, song and dance. As it turned out we missed singing the songs, and participated in the potluck only by eating leftovers. We did get to dance, and eventually sit in circle, just the two of us, in a tiny temple in the woods.
It is a small cob building, maybe 22 foot in diameter, beautiful wood floor, visible lodge-poles as roof supports. A single beam runs across the ceiling,and in the deep of the night as we sat in whispers the many windows reflected us along with the collection of treasures held within. There were many altars, some small, some much bigger, each contained carefully laid sacred items. A knife made of a goats hoof, many crystals, feathers, candles, a snake skin, bones, statues, many of them likenesses of the goddess. There were piles of pillows, animals skins to lay upon and everywhere the warm glow of the sacred.
I imagined this space belonged to me, or more that it was a shared space which I could use and collaborate in. I imagined it as my “office”, a place I would come for a number of hours each day and dance, write, meditate, sing, talk, plan, cry, laugh, listen; take care of all parts of me, no separation between what I do and what I am.
I make a vow to myself on this day that I will create/manifest/find a sacred workspace for myself and those who I work with, that I will commit each day to moving in the direction of a life lived in community, and co-creation.
And so it is!
“What do you commit to?” is the question in 12 days journal #145
Michael and I went out to Winlaw to visit Ashina. Ashina is a multi family intentional community, built on principles of communal living in harmony with nature. We were invited to share a potluck, circle, song and dance. As it turned out we missed singing the songs, and participated in the potluck only by eating leftovers. We did get to dance, and eventually sit in circle, just the two of us, in a tiny temple in the woods.
It is a small cob building, maybe 22 foot in diameter, beautiful wood floor, visible lodge-poles as roof supports. A single beam runs across the ceiling,and in the deep of the night as we sat in whispers the many windows reflected us along with the collection of treasures held within. There were many altars, some small, some much bigger, each contained carefully laid sacred items. A knife made of a goats hoof, many crystals, feathers, candles, a snake skin, bones, statues, many of them likenesses of the goddess. There were piles of pillows, animals skins to lay upon and everywhere the warm glow of the sacred.
I imagined this space belonged to me, or more that it was a shared space which I could use and collaborate in. I imagined it as my “office”, a place I would come for a number of hours each day and dance, write, meditate, sing, talk, plan, cry, laugh, listen; take care of all parts of me, no separation between what I do and what I am.
I make a vow to myself on this day that I will create/manifest/find a sacred workspace for myself and those who I work with, that I will commit each day to moving in the direction of a life lived in community, and co-creation.
And so it is!
“What do you commit to?” is the question in 12 days journal #145
September 3, 2009
Day 2 Walkabout- Oombellafish
What a difference a day makes! Many arms have hugged me since yesterdays post. Some in person, some cyber, all lovely. Thank you to all of you wonderful people.
This evening Rosy had a sleep-over with her friend Sage. They are master bargainers, and managed to get both extra play time AND a story. Michael and I wrote them a bedtime story, line by line; he started, then I added a sentence and so on and so on until it ended. Which was abrupt as it was getting late. Here is the story we read to the girls before they went to sleep.
“One unbelievably fantastic day in the far off land of Oombellafish, a very sunny afternoon was interrupted by a very wet rain storm. All the cats and dogs went running for cover, the streets became eerily quiet and baren, save the pounding of the rain. Soon the streets began to fill with water and rivers were flowing where once balls had bounced, mice darted behind dumpsters in a game as old as time. The soil began to loosen and soon the trees gave way to the torrent, sliding down the rivers like an amusement park ride. Boats went past, floating barrels and bathing ducks. Then a sudden splash fell across the wet street river as the tail of a particularly large fish waved into view. He brought with him a whole school of fish in all different shapes, sizes and brilliant colours. For three glorious days Oombellafish was a marvellous water wonderland.”
“What is your favourite story?“ is the question in 12 days journal #143
This evening Rosy had a sleep-over with her friend Sage. They are master bargainers, and managed to get both extra play time AND a story. Michael and I wrote them a bedtime story, line by line; he started, then I added a sentence and so on and so on until it ended. Which was abrupt as it was getting late. Here is the story we read to the girls before they went to sleep.
“One unbelievably fantastic day in the far off land of Oombellafish, a very sunny afternoon was interrupted by a very wet rain storm. All the cats and dogs went running for cover, the streets became eerily quiet and baren, save the pounding of the rain. Soon the streets began to fill with water and rivers were flowing where once balls had bounced, mice darted behind dumpsters in a game as old as time. The soil began to loosen and soon the trees gave way to the torrent, sliding down the rivers like an amusement park ride. Boats went past, floating barrels and bathing ducks. Then a sudden splash fell across the wet street river as the tail of a particularly large fish waved into view. He brought with him a whole school of fish in all different shapes, sizes and brilliant colours. For three glorious days Oombellafish was a marvellous water wonderland.”
“What is your favourite story?“ is the question in 12 days journal #143
September 2, 2009
Day 1 Walkabout- Get Out of Jail Free
I am back from 12 days of not blogging. Refreshed? Renewed? ReAnything? I don’t know. Seems to be my mantra lately.
“I don’t know”
“I don’t have an answer”
“I can’t be more specific“
I have been contemplating charting my inability to express myself verbally, seeing if it is connected with the moon, or my own moon cycle, or crop circles, ANYTHING, SOMETHING!? I just want to understand why there are these times where my articulate self takes an unexpected vacation. Perhaps rather than looking for answers, which is part of the struggle to begin with, I could just become ok with these times, ride them out, trust that they are as fruitful as the clear, rational times.
The tricky part is that when I get into this gooey ”feelings only” place I often get sad and feel extremely vulnerable, I feel like crying a lot. Why? Well... I DON’T KNOW! This is part of the whole dynamic. When I am here, in this emotional la-la land where even writing this causes an aching right under my sternum, my nose to sting, my eyes to blur, I want to be held, understood, loved. I long to lie on a shady lawn with someone I love, their arms around me as my tears feed the grass. Yet there is some crazy pattern that exists in my life which tends to result in the opposite, instead I am often estranged from those I love at these times. Those arms feel so far away. I long for support, no requirement of explanation, just to be held safely, with no verbal rally which could result in misspoken words. How can I communicate my needs and deep confusion and sadness when they are partially caused by an inability to communicate? I am not trying to be difficult, hiding, not copping to my stuff, I am just sad and feeling extremely vulnerable and want to feel safe and supported. Perhaps I should have some ”get out of jail free“ cards made up, when I am having a day, I could just hand it over to my companion.
”Do not pass go, do not collect $200, just hug me, listen to me, don’t expect anything rational, trust that I will work this out as I always do, when I find my strong self assured self again, which will be soon...maybe when the moon is past full.“
This is me asking for what I want and answering yesterdays question. When I am feeling sad and vulnerable I want for those in my life to hold loving space for me. PLEASE don’t get angry at me, it will not get either of us what we want, I will likely pull away or come out with claws bared, things will not get any better and in the past have often gotten worse. This is what I am asking for, you of course have the option of doing whatever you choose to do. This is my part in this, asking for what I want even though I am struggling to not just crawl away and cry, please know that this is hard for me to do, and it is all I have in this moment.
I have a story that this dynamic in my life is because when those I love see me sad and vulnerable it pushes a button, maybe fear at seeing me weak, maybe they have a person in their past who they felt used tears or sadness to manipulate, maybe it is something I create to feed this story. Maybe, maybe, maybe. For whatever reason my sadness feels like it is often met with frustration, irritability, lack of understanding, and hardest of all, anger. It is a dynamic I no longer want in my life. Perhaps when my articulate, rational self shows back up we can work on this, for now I am going to hang in the sad, confused, vulnerable space, with or without arms around me.
”Is there something in your life that you would like to change?“ is the question in the front cover of 12 days journal #142
I have to end this entry by telling you how fricken hard this was to write...putting into words my frustration around my inability to put things into words...was well.....never mind, I am sure you understand.
“I don’t know”
“I don’t have an answer”
“I can’t be more specific“
I have been contemplating charting my inability to express myself verbally, seeing if it is connected with the moon, or my own moon cycle, or crop circles, ANYTHING, SOMETHING!? I just want to understand why there are these times where my articulate self takes an unexpected vacation. Perhaps rather than looking for answers, which is part of the struggle to begin with, I could just become ok with these times, ride them out, trust that they are as fruitful as the clear, rational times.
The tricky part is that when I get into this gooey ”feelings only” place I often get sad and feel extremely vulnerable, I feel like crying a lot. Why? Well... I DON’T KNOW! This is part of the whole dynamic. When I am here, in this emotional la-la land where even writing this causes an aching right under my sternum, my nose to sting, my eyes to blur, I want to be held, understood, loved. I long to lie on a shady lawn with someone I love, their arms around me as my tears feed the grass. Yet there is some crazy pattern that exists in my life which tends to result in the opposite, instead I am often estranged from those I love at these times. Those arms feel so far away. I long for support, no requirement of explanation, just to be held safely, with no verbal rally which could result in misspoken words. How can I communicate my needs and deep confusion and sadness when they are partially caused by an inability to communicate? I am not trying to be difficult, hiding, not copping to my stuff, I am just sad and feeling extremely vulnerable and want to feel safe and supported. Perhaps I should have some ”get out of jail free“ cards made up, when I am having a day, I could just hand it over to my companion.
”Do not pass go, do not collect $200, just hug me, listen to me, don’t expect anything rational, trust that I will work this out as I always do, when I find my strong self assured self again, which will be soon...maybe when the moon is past full.“
This is me asking for what I want and answering yesterdays question. When I am feeling sad and vulnerable I want for those in my life to hold loving space for me. PLEASE don’t get angry at me, it will not get either of us what we want, I will likely pull away or come out with claws bared, things will not get any better and in the past have often gotten worse. This is what I am asking for, you of course have the option of doing whatever you choose to do. This is my part in this, asking for what I want even though I am struggling to not just crawl away and cry, please know that this is hard for me to do, and it is all I have in this moment.
I have a story that this dynamic in my life is because when those I love see me sad and vulnerable it pushes a button, maybe fear at seeing me weak, maybe they have a person in their past who they felt used tears or sadness to manipulate, maybe it is something I create to feed this story. Maybe, maybe, maybe. For whatever reason my sadness feels like it is often met with frustration, irritability, lack of understanding, and hardest of all, anger. It is a dynamic I no longer want in my life. Perhaps when my articulate, rational self shows back up we can work on this, for now I am going to hang in the sad, confused, vulnerable space, with or without arms around me.
”Is there something in your life that you would like to change?“ is the question in the front cover of 12 days journal #142
I have to end this entry by telling you how fricken hard this was to write...putting into words my frustration around my inability to put things into words...was well.....never mind, I am sure you understand.
Latest Commitment! Walking in the A.M.
I am not 100% sure what the latest commitment is. Read the entry that follows to understand why I am having a hard time with being concise or specific.
So here is what I do know about this commitment...it is about walking. This morning I got up and walked to the dentist rather than driving. I told Michael yesterday that I wanted to do a 12 days commitment of not riding in a car at all for 12 whole days. Logistically I knew it wouldn’t work, I am taking off to California before the end of the commitment, that and the kids are starting school, which is not really within walking distance, especially at 8:00 in the morning. So then this morning I decided I would commit to a morning walk, which is a lovely idea for a commitment. Now though as I sit here in town with no car I get excited about the idea of walking as much as possible this next 12 days. So there you go, a wishy-washy commitment to perhaps take morning walks, and to walk as much as possible. I COULD choose one or the other, but you know what, I am not going to.
I commit to walking for health for the next 12 days. For my own physical health, as I don’t feel like I have been active enough lately. For my emotional health, this mornings walk was just what my sensitive, sad, vulnerable self needed to process. And walking for the health of the planet, using less fossil fuels. Walking to slow down, smell the roses, get acquainted with the streets of this beautiful town and with my own beautiful self.
So here is what I do know about this commitment...it is about walking. This morning I got up and walked to the dentist rather than driving. I told Michael yesterday that I wanted to do a 12 days commitment of not riding in a car at all for 12 whole days. Logistically I knew it wouldn’t work, I am taking off to California before the end of the commitment, that and the kids are starting school, which is not really within walking distance, especially at 8:00 in the morning. So then this morning I decided I would commit to a morning walk, which is a lovely idea for a commitment. Now though as I sit here in town with no car I get excited about the idea of walking as much as possible this next 12 days. So there you go, a wishy-washy commitment to perhaps take morning walks, and to walk as much as possible. I COULD choose one or the other, but you know what, I am not going to.
I commit to walking for health for the next 12 days. For my own physical health, as I don’t feel like I have been active enough lately. For my emotional health, this mornings walk was just what my sensitive, sad, vulnerable self needed to process. And walking for the health of the planet, using less fossil fuels. Walking to slow down, smell the roses, get acquainted with the streets of this beautiful town and with my own beautiful self.
September 1, 2009
August 31, 2009
Day 11 Time Off- Restless
It is beginning to happen. This feeling which frequently accompanies down time, boredom. The ennui begins to build, I feel uninspired, restless, like I am not contributing. It is strange, I suspect there is middle ground, somewhere between working to get hundreds of things done in a day and blahsville. This place exists right? This mythical place where there are a number of meaningful tasks to complete in a day and nothing more, so that by bedtime a person goes to sleep with a sense of satisfaction and nothing pressing on their mind; where things were accomplished but nothing is left nagging...please tell me it exists!? I feel like life either proceeds at a breakneck pace or a stand still, with no in-between.
I have been pondering my next commitment, feeling pulled to do something grand, recommit to the original commitment to commitment itself. I suspect that if I choose to do this that you will be reading an entry within a week where I am lamenting how run off my feet I am. Is this what it feels like to be bipolar? Seriously, with no disrespect to those who are effected by this condition, I often wonder if I create a sort of manic bipolar energy in my own life. Is there another way?
Anyway I am way over 150 words and since this is the penultimate day of my time off, I will chill, go enjoy this lovely hot day and stop stewing about this lack of inspiration. The lack of inspiration which has spawn the less than inspiring “What inspires you?”, which resides in 12 days journal #140
I have been pondering my next commitment, feeling pulled to do something grand, recommit to the original commitment to commitment itself. I suspect that if I choose to do this that you will be reading an entry within a week where I am lamenting how run off my feet I am. Is this what it feels like to be bipolar? Seriously, with no disrespect to those who are effected by this condition, I often wonder if I create a sort of manic bipolar energy in my own life. Is there another way?
Anyway I am way over 150 words and since this is the penultimate day of my time off, I will chill, go enjoy this lovely hot day and stop stewing about this lack of inspiration. The lack of inspiration which has spawn the less than inspiring “What inspires you?”, which resides in 12 days journal #140
August 30, 2009
Day 10 Time Off- Simply
“How do you know when you are in love?“ is the simple, delicious, fruitful question in 12 days journal #139
Sigh...
(I inserted a picture here, but it was vetoed, then there was an attempt to take others, which I then vetoed....I will add more pictures soon...soon)
Sigh...
(I inserted a picture here, but it was vetoed, then there was an attempt to take others, which I then vetoed....I will add more pictures soon...soon)
August 29, 2009
Day 9 Time Off- Grand Day Out and In
Today has been just a wonderful day. I didn’t do anything that might seem adventurous or worthy of story telling here on the blog, which is a bonus considering I am nearing 149 words and have done pretty well so far to stick to my commitment of less than 150. The day has just combined a whole bunch of simple pleasures into one glorious experience...best part is, it is not over yet!!
Based on a conversation Michael and I had this morning, and yet another suggestion by Nelson at the Nelson Express; “Is it ever ok to lie?“ is the question in 12 days journal #138
Tonight I will dance and spend more time with wonderful people. Life is GOOD!
Actually I only wrote 146 word, yeah me.
Based on a conversation Michael and I had this morning, and yet another suggestion by Nelson at the Nelson Express; “Is it ever ok to lie?“ is the question in 12 days journal #138
Tonight I will dance and spend more time with wonderful people. Life is GOOD!
Actually I only wrote 146 word, yeah me.
August 28, 2009
Day 8 Time Off- Avoidance... NOT!
I made a bunch of journals today...well 5, so a small bunch. I gave 12 days journal #107 to my friend Sean, then I left 12 days journal#108 at Oso. Then I did a whole lot of talking, milling, walking, musing. Life is grand.
And on a completely different note:
“Have you ever blamed someone else when you were actually responsible?“ is the question in 12 days journal #137
and no I am not avoiding something....so there.
And on a completely different note:
“Have you ever blamed someone else when you were actually responsible?“ is the question in 12 days journal #137
and no I am not avoiding something....so there.
August 27, 2009
Day 7 Time Off- Inevitable
My 12 day holiday is official in the second half, it has been great. I still have only made four 12 days journals, I am OK with this, I know some day soon a bunch of my family will get together to help me make them, I will catch up soon. (HINT HINT)
Had a talk with Terran today, my web guy. Expect changes as summer turns to fall. I know I said the F word, some of you may be upset with me about this, it is true though, I saw leaves on the sidewalk today, fall is coming . This year is the first I have actually been excited for the kids to go back to school. The schedule is good for them, it is good for me. And so in honour of the approaching season of regularity,
“What is your favourite thing about fall?” is in the front cover of 12 days journal #136
Now my goal is to get this journal made before fall is over!!
Had a talk with Terran today, my web guy. Expect changes as summer turns to fall. I know I said the F word, some of you may be upset with me about this, it is true though, I saw leaves on the sidewalk today, fall is coming . This year is the first I have actually been excited for the kids to go back to school. The schedule is good for them, it is good for me. And so in honour of the approaching season of regularity,
“What is your favourite thing about fall?” is in the front cover of 12 days journal #136
Now my goal is to get this journal made before fall is over!!
August 26, 2009
Day 6 Time Off- Ahhhh
Thanks to Nelson of the Nelson Express I have a question for today without even working at it. Ahhhh....time off is good. THANKS NELSON!
“If you didn’t need money what kind of work would you do? What kind of work do you do?” is the question in 12 days journal #135
“If you didn’t need money what kind of work would you do? What kind of work do you do?” is the question in 12 days journal #135
August 25, 2009
Day 5 Time Off- Burning
What is to give light must endure burning.
-Viktor E. Frankl
and then some!!!
If anyone would have told me it would have been this hard, I may never have come out. I suppose then it is a good thing I didn’t know.
I was given a few question suggestions by my friend Nelson, who publishes the Nelson Express, the one that seems most pertinent to today's quote and my state of mind is:
“Do you feel you can effect positive change?” is the question in 12 days journal #134
-Viktor E. Frankl
and then some!!!
If anyone would have told me it would have been this hard, I may never have come out. I suppose then it is a good thing I didn’t know.
I was given a few question suggestions by my friend Nelson, who publishes the Nelson Express, the one that seems most pertinent to today's quote and my state of mind is:
“Do you feel you can effect positive change?” is the question in 12 days journal #134
August 24, 2009
Day 4 Time Off- Cloning?
As I sit here in Oso Negro, I still have not made a single journal. After spending time talking to many people in my life, arranging schedules and trying to get everything done, I wonder, why do I feel pulled in so many directions? I LOVE my life, my family, my friends, my work, my art, my dance all of it, and yet I often joke about having a clone, and am not completely joking. I feel like there is not enough of me.
“How do you achieve balance between all the responsibilities and desires in your life?“ is the question in 12 days journal #133
“How do you achieve balance between all the responsibilities and desires in your life?“ is the question in 12 days journal #133
August 23, 2009
Day 3 Time Off- In Alignment
I gave two journals away today. Both times I had them pull tarot card style from a stack. As seems to always be the case the questions were magically, divinely, perfectly aligned with the chosers purpose, speaking to what is alive in them at this time.
Elijah who I met recently is devising a board game which is all about communication, a very in depth, multi layered organization of cards and intention. He chose 12 days journal #94 which asks “How do you communicate?“
Next came a hour and a half long conversation with a man who I met recently, one I knew I had much in common with but as of yet we had not connected. Today we spoke about many things, the underlying current of the conversation being that all of humanity is connected, we are part of the fabric, how the ”us and them“ mentality does not serve. He chose 12 days journal # 99 which asks ”What are the common threads that unite us all as humans?“
”Are you living in alignment with your beliefs and purpose?“ is the question in 12 days journal #132
I know...way over 150 words. Some commitments are easier than others.
Elijah who I met recently is devising a board game which is all about communication, a very in depth, multi layered organization of cards and intention. He chose 12 days journal #94 which asks “How do you communicate?“
Next came a hour and a half long conversation with a man who I met recently, one I knew I had much in common with but as of yet we had not connected. Today we spoke about many things, the underlying current of the conversation being that all of humanity is connected, we are part of the fabric, how the ”us and them“ mentality does not serve. He chose 12 days journal # 99 which asks ”What are the common threads that unite us all as humans?“
”Are you living in alignment with your beliefs and purpose?“ is the question in 12 days journal #132
I know...way over 150 words. Some commitments are easier than others.
August 22, 2009
Day 2 Time Off- Clear as...
“Have you ever kept a secret and wished you didn’t?” is the question in 12 day journal #131
We went out tonight to the market Chris, Michael, Rosy, Lily and I. I held hands with both of these beautiful men as I strolled round with my family, all of them, no one hidden away. When we got home Michael, Chris and I were sitting in the kitchen talking about transparency. Chris and I were reminiscing about a friendship which was lost when we lived in Pemberton, one that was lost both partly because of transparency and partly lost because of the lack of it. Me not telling my truth meant people could only assume what had gone on, these assumptions ended other friendships. No more hiding for me.
We went out tonight to the market Chris, Michael, Rosy, Lily and I. I held hands with both of these beautiful men as I strolled round with my family, all of them, no one hidden away. When we got home Michael, Chris and I were sitting in the kitchen talking about transparency. Chris and I were reminiscing about a friendship which was lost when we lived in Pemberton, one that was lost both partly because of transparency and partly lost because of the lack of it. Me not telling my truth meant people could only assume what had gone on, these assumptions ended other friendships. No more hiding for me.
August 21, 2009
Day 1 Time Off- Community?
“What does it mean to live in community?” is 12 days journal #130
Community has a lot of meanings for me, some grand, huge undertakings which take dedication, years of work and vision. And sometimes it is simply a friend who sees a need; an angel who comes and finds a sad friend and lovingly takes her to float on a raft in a lake on a stinkin hot day. Thank you Kim, I love you.
Community has a lot of meanings for me, some grand, huge undertakings which take dedication, years of work and vision. And sometimes it is simply a friend who sees a need; an angel who comes and finds a sad friend and lovingly takes her to float on a raft in a lake on a stinkin hot day. Thank you Kim, I love you.
Latest Commitment! Staycation
I am taking 12 days off. If you read yesterdays post the answer to the question of “How do you find happiness when times are tough?” is I reconnect with family and friends and reduce stress. I love this project, and am committed to seeing it out to the end. I also recognize that the last three commitments have taken their toll, and that I have been running behind for each one, the the stress of this has been effecting my ability to be present. I need a vacation, or perhaps what I need is a STAYcation. To stay home, with my body, with my family, with my friends, to be right here and not constantly trying to recall events from days ago in order to write about them. I am also way behind in making up and distributing journals. I am going to use this time to be all caught up and fresh when I show back up with my soap box and run on sentences in 12 days. I will post a question each day, and if I know myself, perhaps even a few words or a quote; I am limiting myself though to no more than 150 words and am just fine with nothing more than a question and a journal number. Thank you to all of you who read this journal, I love you, and feel your support, I will see you in 12 days!
I commit to taking the next 12 days of from blogging, to continue posting a question and journal number and very little else. I commit to taking time to get present, to catch up on the journal release side of the project, to enjoying myself and those around me, to returning refreshed, caught up and with more ease.
I commit to taking the next 12 days of from blogging, to continue posting a question and journal number and very little else. I commit to taking time to get present, to catch up on the journal release side of the project, to enjoying myself and those around me, to returning refreshed, caught up and with more ease.
August 20, 2009
Day 12 Jus Dance- Cookie Prophecy
Three for three. Three days of tears, three days of wondering how to make it all work. To be honest I didn’t really fulfil my commitment yesterday. In a metaphorical sense I did the anger dance, the sadness dance, the miscommunication dance, the feelings of deep abandonment dance, but no shakin my booty dance. The plan to go out, dance to live music at the Spirit Bar, to relax and have fun with friends, never happened. Instead I spent hours in a room, wanting to be heard, feeling that I wasn’t, with someone who wanted to be heard and felt he wasn’t.
I am glad this commitment is over, it feels like an ending to this period of unhappiness. What is it they say about bad things happening in threes? I don’t really think that the last three days were bad, hard, but not bad. Growth is sometimes painful, I get this. The last three days were really hard, the hard times are over though, cause I say so. I need some lightness in this heavy painful heart of mine.
And so it is! The sadness is ending because I need it to. And I know from a whole long life lived, that sad times do not last, they give way to happiness and more ease. I know that this too shall pass.
“How do you find happiness when times are tough?” is the question in 12 days journal #129
Just to end on a positive note, to show you all I really do know that things are as they should be, and that this time of coming out is worth this struggle, I will leave you with the wise words I found inside a fortune cookie yesterday.
“Your courage will guide your future”
We all know that fortune cookies are always right!
I am glad this commitment is over, it feels like an ending to this period of unhappiness. What is it they say about bad things happening in threes? I don’t really think that the last three days were bad, hard, but not bad. Growth is sometimes painful, I get this. The last three days were really hard, the hard times are over though, cause I say so. I need some lightness in this heavy painful heart of mine.
And so it is! The sadness is ending because I need it to. And I know from a whole long life lived, that sad times do not last, they give way to happiness and more ease. I know that this too shall pass.
“How do you find happiness when times are tough?” is the question in 12 days journal #129
Just to end on a positive note, to show you all I really do know that things are as they should be, and that this time of coming out is worth this struggle, I will leave you with the wise words I found inside a fortune cookie yesterday.
“Your courage will guide your future”
We all know that fortune cookies are always right!
August 19, 2009
Day 11 Jus Dance- Swinging all the Way Round
Today I danced with tears streaming down my face....again. This time I was in the park. It was one hell of a day today, many crying breakdowns, in between lawyers visits and navigating the continued judgement and sticky, bumpy, twisting goo of coming out as polyamourous. Throw in my eldest daughters 14th birthday and the day was REALLY FULL. So full in fact that one small comment about my parenting style on the walk home from a well meaning member of my family, tipped the scales. It was just too much. I couldn’t handle what I perceived as one more finger pointed at an area where I am remiss or could do better. I had hit full and this comment spilled over me, engulfing me in sadness and a desire to run away. I walked to the park and sat on the swing, too numb yet to cry. I began to swing. I pumped my body hard, feeling my abdominal straining, I swung higher and higher. I was filled with the remembering of my childhood, how when things got hard, which they often were, I would swing. I spent so much time at the park. Most of it on the swing, working the pumping, filled with hope that if I swung hard enough I could wrap myself all the way around, that somehow this would make things all better. I tried again, for the first time in probably 20 years to achieve the wrap around...it still didn’t work. I remembered at this point that I had also failed in achieving my commitment, so after what felt like the 600th failure of the day, i got off the sing and began to dance to my internal song. I spiralled round the basketball court, tears finally flowing. I would like to report that it made things all better, it wouldn’t be true though, I was still sad when I was done, but at least I had completed my commitment. Ah success!
Happy Birthday Ayla Bayla Boo....14 years ago today I became a mother. The hardest job I have ever done....and the most amazingly fulfilling one too, even when I feel like I am failing all over the place.
"Do you think of life in terms of failures and success?"Why?“ is the question in 12 days journal #128
Happy Birthday Ayla Bayla Boo....14 years ago today I became a mother. The hardest job I have ever done....and the most amazingly fulfilling one too, even when I feel like I am failing all over the place.
"Do you think of life in terms of failures and success?"Why?“ is the question in 12 days journal #128
August 18, 2009
Day 10 Jus Dance- Change
Tonight I slow danced in the kitchen with Michael, I cried as he held me in his arms. He cleared a spot for us, moved the kitchen table and chairs, as I lamented not having not done my commitment for the day on top of everything else.
Things didn’t go so well today. I wish I could say that the blending of our family was smooth like butter, but if I claimed that you would likely know I was lying. Lily is having a hard time with the prospect of being different. Of course the idea that she is the same as any of her classmates is an illusion but I suspect this response sounds like bullshit to a 10 year old. There has been a rash of divorces amongst her classmates parents in the last 2 years, and while she is happy her parents are not getting divorced, it is tempting given that at least she would be “normal”. She loves Kelly, is warming to Michael and is not unhappy with our blended happy family, but the idea of her schoolmates finding out that her family arrangement is different from EVERYONE else's, is tortuous. I don’t know how to make this better, I mean the obvious would be to let go of what I believe about consciously choosing a model of family which I feel is more conducive to ease and lasting stability; reacting and jumping back to status quo in hopes that this will alleviate her discomfort. Then I have to live with the message I have sent to my children that conformity in order to have comfort over choosing ones own path is desirable. When Lily and I spoke about Chris and my relationship I asked if she would prefer we divorced, she said “NO!”. I explained to her that sometimes in life we have to choose between what is easy, and what we really want. She really wants her parent to stay together, and we have never really considered other wise, but doing so with other partners makes Lily different. I hate that my choices make her different than her classmates, that by having parents who believe in not limiting each others experiences, she has to explain that divorce is not a part of her parents having other partners, that we all live together in harmony.
Parents generally want to do everything they can for their kids to have a joyful and easy life, and we all discover at some point that there are some things that we just can’t save them from. I know it will be ok, that my children are, as my friend Kath says, “Brilliant”, that change is hard no matter what, and that change is inevitable. When our family moved here to Nelson it was change, it caused my children to have to adjust, a new baby requires adjustment, divorce definitely requires adjustment, this change of ours just happens to not be a common change, but commonality doesn’t speak to the health of a change. A new diet low in sugar and refined flour is a change which can be difficult, but it is towards health. I believe that moving toward living in community, where the responsibilities don’t fall to just two parents is a change towards a more supportive environment, where needs are more easily met, that said, it is still change and change is hard.
To end this post I want to share this picture with you. This is my husband Chris and his sweet partner Kelly. These two are in love, and a change that involves this much love is not one I am going to forgo just to facilitate the easy way. I am confident that choosing love is the way.
“Who do you love?” is the question in 12 day journal #127
Things didn’t go so well today. I wish I could say that the blending of our family was smooth like butter, but if I claimed that you would likely know I was lying. Lily is having a hard time with the prospect of being different. Of course the idea that she is the same as any of her classmates is an illusion but I suspect this response sounds like bullshit to a 10 year old. There has been a rash of divorces amongst her classmates parents in the last 2 years, and while she is happy her parents are not getting divorced, it is tempting given that at least she would be “normal”. She loves Kelly, is warming to Michael and is not unhappy with our blended happy family, but the idea of her schoolmates finding out that her family arrangement is different from EVERYONE else's, is tortuous. I don’t know how to make this better, I mean the obvious would be to let go of what I believe about consciously choosing a model of family which I feel is more conducive to ease and lasting stability; reacting and jumping back to status quo in hopes that this will alleviate her discomfort. Then I have to live with the message I have sent to my children that conformity in order to have comfort over choosing ones own path is desirable. When Lily and I spoke about Chris and my relationship I asked if she would prefer we divorced, she said “NO!”. I explained to her that sometimes in life we have to choose between what is easy, and what we really want. She really wants her parent to stay together, and we have never really considered other wise, but doing so with other partners makes Lily different. I hate that my choices make her different than her classmates, that by having parents who believe in not limiting each others experiences, she has to explain that divorce is not a part of her parents having other partners, that we all live together in harmony.
Parents generally want to do everything they can for their kids to have a joyful and easy life, and we all discover at some point that there are some things that we just can’t save them from. I know it will be ok, that my children are, as my friend Kath says, “Brilliant”, that change is hard no matter what, and that change is inevitable. When our family moved here to Nelson it was change, it caused my children to have to adjust, a new baby requires adjustment, divorce definitely requires adjustment, this change of ours just happens to not be a common change, but commonality doesn’t speak to the health of a change. A new diet low in sugar and refined flour is a change which can be difficult, but it is towards health. I believe that moving toward living in community, where the responsibilities don’t fall to just two parents is a change towards a more supportive environment, where needs are more easily met, that said, it is still change and change is hard.
To end this post I want to share this picture with you. This is my husband Chris and his sweet partner Kelly. These two are in love, and a change that involves this much love is not one I am going to forgo just to facilitate the easy way. I am confident that choosing love is the way.
“Who do you love?” is the question in 12 day journal #127
August 17, 2009
Day 9 Jus Dance- Pespective
Of all my dances today, the one with Laura from Southwest airlines was my favourite.
The airline misplaced my bags while I was flying home. When I noticed they did not come down the luggage shoot I was not surprised. I had a funny feeling today would be the day. Southwest Airlines is a phenomenal company, they know how to treat customers, and I don’t mean in that sugary “the customer is always right” sort of way. If you miss a flight, you simply get a credit for another, and they fill your seat with he inevitable plane missers or stand byers. Simple. If I want to change a flight, I go online and do it myself, easy, and with no change fee. Best of all they have great rates, best out there. So I am a dedicated Southwest customer. I had no doubts that the luggage hiccup would go in a similar smooth fashion.
When Laura at the baggage services desk learned about the luggage having gone missing. She gave me options; I could have it sent by UPS to me over the border, or I could stick around and wait for it, if I choose to wait I would receive a $100 travel voucher. The choice was easy! Michael had come to pick me up at the airport, since we had to wait until after dinner for my bags, they offered to pay for our dinner. After a lovely meal we returned to find my bags had still not made it, again I was given options. I had already received a travel voucher and a meal, now I had the choice of again having UPS deliver it, or they would put me up in a hotel until it arrived. I was dead tired, again the choice was easy. My luggage arrived sometime that evening long after we had gone over to the hotel.
For many having luggage lost is a huge hassle, for me it was an adventure. I am not sure how much of this has to do with Southwest and how much has to do with my perspective, I suspect it is a sprinkling of both.
“How much does your perception of an incident shape its outcome?” is the question in 12 days journal #126
The airline misplaced my bags while I was flying home. When I noticed they did not come down the luggage shoot I was not surprised. I had a funny feeling today would be the day. Southwest Airlines is a phenomenal company, they know how to treat customers, and I don’t mean in that sugary “the customer is always right” sort of way. If you miss a flight, you simply get a credit for another, and they fill your seat with he inevitable plane missers or stand byers. Simple. If I want to change a flight, I go online and do it myself, easy, and with no change fee. Best of all they have great rates, best out there. So I am a dedicated Southwest customer. I had no doubts that the luggage hiccup would go in a similar smooth fashion.
When Laura at the baggage services desk learned about the luggage having gone missing. She gave me options; I could have it sent by UPS to me over the border, or I could stick around and wait for it, if I choose to wait I would receive a $100 travel voucher. The choice was easy! Michael had come to pick me up at the airport, since we had to wait until after dinner for my bags, they offered to pay for our dinner. After a lovely meal we returned to find my bags had still not made it, again I was given options. I had already received a travel voucher and a meal, now I had the choice of again having UPS deliver it, or they would put me up in a hotel until it arrived. I was dead tired, again the choice was easy. My luggage arrived sometime that evening long after we had gone over to the hotel.
For many having luggage lost is a huge hassle, for me it was an adventure. I am not sure how much of this has to do with Southwest and how much has to do with my perspective, I suspect it is a sprinkling of both.
“How much does your perception of an incident shape its outcome?” is the question in 12 days journal #126
August 16, 2009
Day 8 Jus Dance- Friendship
I danced in school today. The dance that I did though, the one I consider to have been most fruitful, was the dance back into friendship with my friend Jeremy. Things got rocky for us for a while, there were times I wondered if our friendship would dissolve. Today we snuggled and talked about his new love interest. It was nice to be able to hold space for him. I used to stay with him when I came to school, his home was mine too for those weeks. It felt comfortable to be able to revisit this place of respite, it gave me a chance to reflect on all that has happened and how far I have come in the last year. Funny how when I am flying along, so much work and change, being caught up in it can make things appear to be progressing at snails pace.
“What does it mean to be a friend?” is the question in 12 days journal #125
“What does it mean to be a friend?” is the question in 12 days journal #125
August 15, 2009
Day 7 Jus Dance- Right and Wrong
The East Bay Ecstatic are starting a Saturday night dance jam in San Francisco. KD and I ventured into the city, the land of no parking, to go dance to the mixings of our friend Ron Tofanalli. The space was great, beautiful altar, inspiring music. Not too many people yet, but they have built it so eventually we will come. For us this meant heaps of room on the dance floor. I was feeling rather introverted, just wanted to dance with Bernice. There were many contact opportunities there, and I did yearn to connect, but not enough to make eye contact, much less body contact. KD on the other hand made contact with a man named Philip, and they had an absolutely beautiful dance. With eyes mostly closed they moved round each others bodies, I watched, felt as though I was receiving a gift. KD is a beautiful kirtan dancer, she has done almost no contact improv, and yet she channelled something during this dance, she looked like a pro. When it was over she came over to me all a glow and told me how wonderful it had been, how respectful and gentle Philip was with her, just the healing my friend KD needs right now at this crazy time in her life.
Sometime later a man who I know from the dance community came over and said to her “Can I dance with you? I saw you doing contact earlier, I want to show you how it is suppose to be done.”
This idea that there is one way to do contact dance is not something I subscribe to. KD was peaved with this mans intrusion. She was perfectly happy with her heart opening dance, and felt no need to know how it was “suppose” to be done.
I love contact, no matter how it shows up, human connection through dance is the only “suppose to” that matters to me.
“Do you believe in right and wrong?” is the question in 12 days journal #124
Sometime later a man who I know from the dance community came over and said to her “Can I dance with you? I saw you doing contact earlier, I want to show you how it is suppose to be done.”
This idea that there is one way to do contact dance is not something I subscribe to. KD was peaved with this mans intrusion. She was perfectly happy with her heart opening dance, and felt no need to know how it was “suppose” to be done.
I love contact, no matter how it shows up, human connection through dance is the only “suppose to” that matters to me.
“Do you believe in right and wrong?” is the question in 12 days journal #124
August 14, 2009
Day 6 Jus Dance- Blue Birthday
Yesterday was Lord Krishna’s birthday. We went over for cake; danced and sung past midnight when the days fast was finally broken, and then we feasted! I attended this event with my good friend KD. A raging goddess, rocking the Hari Krishna world with love, compassion and an invitation for open eyes.
Dancing, singing, and feasting with Lord Krishna and KD was a wonderful way to complete today's commitment.
“How would you describe your spiritual belifs?” is the question in 12 days journal #123
Dancing, singing, and feasting with Lord Krishna and KD was a wonderful way to complete today's commitment.
“How would you describe your spiritual belifs?” is the question in 12 days journal #123
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