Today's indulgence is my last, I feel like it should be a really good one. I asked Jilly Bean for advice, she suggested going and lying naked a rock, soaking up what is left of the fading summer sun, I said I was thinking more of being massaged by a sexy man.
To be honest the indulgence I really want is to take the day off blogging. So there you have it.
“If you could ask one of your loves just one question, what would it be and who would it be?” is the question in 12 days journal #165
Showing posts with label pleasure. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pleasure. Show all posts
September 25, 2009
September 24, 2009
Day 11 Pleasure Revolution- A Day in the Life
9:16 AM- Well I crawled out of my closet last night, went down to Michael’s. He is living with my friend Jill for the month of September. Our family has all agreed that when we move back into our house, which has been under renovation for the last 3 months, that Michael will move in with us. This morning living with two partners seems like a terrifying prospect. Don’t get me wrong I love the idea of living life in alignment with my belief system, the idea of challenging the norm and possibly even the constitutional definition of family. I love the idea of being with all the people I love, all of us working towards common goals and ideals. I welcome combined effort and the creation of ease from the stress of the nuclear family unit. I am just not looking forward to 6 grumpy folk in one house in the morning, the quite resentment that mornings are so effective at breeding. Ugh...mornings.
Doing these timeline posts is always a bit of a vulnerable choice. I have no idea if today will be interesting or dull. We shall see.
10:06 AM- Jilly Bean showed up at Oso to have her morning coffee. She had to leave before our conversation had ended so I walked over to her shop where she was meeting Brian Rosen of Brian Rosen and the What Now, to hem a sweet pair of retro cords he acquired. Jill, runs Nelson Sewing Solutions, a shop where you can bring your old clothes and she will make them not only new again, but super funky. She is the queen of patchwork and crotch repair. I am listening from the back room as they negotiate payment for his hemming; he will get a new hem made to look authentically ratty and she will get one of their albums, a very Nelson transaction.
12:15 PM- Chris and I just had lunch with Seth and Katie, our new neighbours! We sat down together and made an agreement to finance a transaction for them to buy one of the lots that sit beside our house up in the trees on the side of our mountain. They are lovely, we gave them a journal each. As the meeting was ending I realized the address which is on the back of the journal is actually their new address. I took out a mail box on this vacant lot of ours when I started this project, Chris was concerned about giving our home address out given that there is so much personal info on the blog. Now when anyone mails a journal back it will be received by our two beautiful new friends and the little Aquarian who will be born this winter. How wonderful is that?
2:21 PM- Just came back to Jill’s alteration shop after a lunch with Kim and her friend, Laura. My indulgence for today was eating at the Preserved Seed. I have been very frugal lately, cash flow has been a big issue for us and eating out was the first thing to come off the budget. I talked to Laura about being Polyamorous, she was completely in the dark, had never even heard the word, and either I am getting better at explaining it or she is uber receptive because it was as though I was giving her my family chicken recipe. She asked questions and didn’t seem ruffled by the concept at all. So refreshing. On a whim Jill, Kim and I decided to have dinner at Jill’s place, as soon as we work out the menu I will be off to get the kids at school and pick up groceries.
(The Preserved Seed, wholesome delicious food with a side of religious fervour)
4:54 PM- Holy cow! How did it get so late? I picked up my babies at school. Drove up to the house where Chris, Kelly and Michael are working, talked to Chris about the selling of the property, then made arrangements for dinner. Rose is coming with me to dinner at Jills, which means we will also be hanging with Michael, Chris and Kelly are taking Lily to buy groceries for her party tomorrow, Ayla is going for dinner with my mom.
I came home and messed around with the blog; tried to make it look uncluttered while adding a twitter feed. I swore I wasn’t going to give into this twitter thing... I did anyway. Now I have exactly 30 minutes to work on an entry from 2 days ago, so I can upload it and get THIS one up...though not until after 11:59 tonight.
Geez, if you are still reading this my hat comes off to you, this entry seems pretty boring so far!
10:33 PM- Our dinner was great, well...mostly. Rosy and I joined Jill, Kim and Kim’s daughter, Sage. We made food, sang, rolled around on the floor, invibed (which came before the rolling around not after). We had a girls dinner along with one of my favourite boys, Mr. Michael. It was lovely. So lovely in fact that I stayed too late, it was almost 10:00 before I left, which is 2 hours past Rosy’s bedtime...oops. I could have stayed over with Michael, but I wanted Rosy’s morning time routine to stay...well...routine, so I decided to take her home. Trouble was I didn’t want to leave the fun...or Michael, so I stayed too late, her routine was messed with anyway. Sigh, must let go of my “mother guilt” and judgement. She had a wonderful time and fell right to sleep when she got home. So what is the “mostly” part? There is a distance between Michael and I tonight, I am sad about it, very sad. My hope is that before 11:59 PM I will be able to write to you that we have spoken, that we are back in a place of deep connection. We will see.
11:53 PM- Sniff sniff...conversation didn’t go well. I am glad this day is almost over. Goodnight.
“What is you favourite way to spend an evening?” is the question in 12 days journal #164
Doing these timeline posts is always a bit of a vulnerable choice. I have no idea if today will be interesting or dull. We shall see.
10:06 AM- Jilly Bean showed up at Oso to have her morning coffee. She had to leave before our conversation had ended so I walked over to her shop where she was meeting Brian Rosen of Brian Rosen and the What Now, to hem a sweet pair of retro cords he acquired. Jill, runs Nelson Sewing Solutions, a shop where you can bring your old clothes and she will make them not only new again, but super funky. She is the queen of patchwork and crotch repair. I am listening from the back room as they negotiate payment for his hemming; he will get a new hem made to look authentically ratty and she will get one of their albums, a very Nelson transaction.
12:15 PM- Chris and I just had lunch with Seth and Katie, our new neighbours! We sat down together and made an agreement to finance a transaction for them to buy one of the lots that sit beside our house up in the trees on the side of our mountain. They are lovely, we gave them a journal each. As the meeting was ending I realized the address which is on the back of the journal is actually their new address. I took out a mail box on this vacant lot of ours when I started this project, Chris was concerned about giving our home address out given that there is so much personal info on the blog. Now when anyone mails a journal back it will be received by our two beautiful new friends and the little Aquarian who will be born this winter. How wonderful is that?
2:21 PM- Just came back to Jill’s alteration shop after a lunch with Kim and her friend, Laura. My indulgence for today was eating at the Preserved Seed. I have been very frugal lately, cash flow has been a big issue for us and eating out was the first thing to come off the budget. I talked to Laura about being Polyamorous, she was completely in the dark, had never even heard the word, and either I am getting better at explaining it or she is uber receptive because it was as though I was giving her my family chicken recipe. She asked questions and didn’t seem ruffled by the concept at all. So refreshing. On a whim Jill, Kim and I decided to have dinner at Jill’s place, as soon as we work out the menu I will be off to get the kids at school and pick up groceries.
(The Preserved Seed, wholesome delicious food with a side of religious fervour)
4:54 PM- Holy cow! How did it get so late? I picked up my babies at school. Drove up to the house where Chris, Kelly and Michael are working, talked to Chris about the selling of the property, then made arrangements for dinner. Rose is coming with me to dinner at Jills, which means we will also be hanging with Michael, Chris and Kelly are taking Lily to buy groceries for her party tomorrow, Ayla is going for dinner with my mom.
I came home and messed around with the blog; tried to make it look uncluttered while adding a twitter feed. I swore I wasn’t going to give into this twitter thing... I did anyway. Now I have exactly 30 minutes to work on an entry from 2 days ago, so I can upload it and get THIS one up...though not until after 11:59 tonight.
Geez, if you are still reading this my hat comes off to you, this entry seems pretty boring so far!
10:33 PM- Our dinner was great, well...mostly. Rosy and I joined Jill, Kim and Kim’s daughter, Sage. We made food, sang, rolled around on the floor, invibed (which came before the rolling around not after). We had a girls dinner along with one of my favourite boys, Mr. Michael. It was lovely. So lovely in fact that I stayed too late, it was almost 10:00 before I left, which is 2 hours past Rosy’s bedtime...oops. I could have stayed over with Michael, but I wanted Rosy’s morning time routine to stay...well...routine, so I decided to take her home. Trouble was I didn’t want to leave the fun...or Michael, so I stayed too late, her routine was messed with anyway. Sigh, must let go of my “mother guilt” and judgement. She had a wonderful time and fell right to sleep when she got home. So what is the “mostly” part? There is a distance between Michael and I tonight, I am sad about it, very sad. My hope is that before 11:59 PM I will be able to write to you that we have spoken, that we are back in a place of deep connection. We will see.
11:53 PM- Sniff sniff...conversation didn’t go well. I am glad this day is almost over. Goodnight.
“What is you favourite way to spend an evening?” is the question in 12 days journal #164
September 23, 2009
Day 10 Pleasure Revolution- In the Closet
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
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 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
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)