Food Consciousness

Lately I've been thinking a lot about the way I live my life. Not the way I live my life in general, but the way I view the world from an ethical and spiritual standpoint in relation to the way I actually behave. For many years, I have taken issue with the mistreatment of animals in this country. I feel that the animals we raise for food have feelings and rights and should be treated in as humane a way as possible while they are alive. Sadly, it seems that the animals being raised for food are viewed as just that-food. No regard is given for a pig as being a pig with pig needs and pig feelings. The people raising and slaughtering cows aren't, at least for the most part, concerned with making any of the cows' journeys more comfortable or less terrifying. How am I living according to my own spiritual and ethical principals if I'm rolling on over to the local food store and buying the meat of these animals? Isn't that kind of like condoning the behavior that these animals are suffering under? How can I then live in harmony with the animal world? I write these words strictly from my own standpoint. It is not my wish to critisize anyone else's choices with respect to food or sex or anything else. I'm simply mulling over my own actions and trying to decide whether my actions have been in balance with my beliefs, beliefs that I feel very dedicated to and serious about. Recently, I watched a Paul McCartney film that he created for PETA, entitled "Glass Walls". For sure, it's difficult to watch this video and come away from it with a great desire to eat a hamburger. What I saw in the film made me sick to my stomach, and years of reading about the treatment of animals in the food industry left me without the luxury of disbelieving anything that he said. When I left the website, I was in tears and ready to make some serious changes. Being married to a Cajun man who is sworn to eating meat, I don't expect my new food choices to be his food choices. In the past, I have allowed his inability to give up meat be an excuse for me to refrain from giving it up either. That said, I realize that it will, at this time, not be practical for me to stop buying any meat at all. What I do know is that I don't have to eat it. I can make smaller portions for each of us, and create a vegetarian version of whatever it is I'm making (I'm fairly creative when it comes to cooking). Some nights, if I'm making a dish that I think he'll like, I will make just a vegetarian dish. Since my husband has issues with soybeans and wheat both, there will be many nights when a vegetarian option will be easier for me to enjoy than for him. If this is the case, I'll go with the veggie option and give him the meat one. I realize that compromise will be key in order for my lifestyle change to work for each of us, but I think I've arrived at a point in life where I'm ready to do the extra work and make the committment. Tonight I made buffalo turkey burgers-turkey for my husband, and a mixture of chic peas and all of the stuff I put into the turkey, plus a sprinkle of bread crumbs. I felt much better after eating the chic pea burger, both physically and mentally, and it tasted surprisingly good! Here's to ethical eating, one day at a time!

Pagan Carols

One of the more difficult aspects of being Pagan (and a Witch) is that our holidays aren't mainstream. This is especially apparent during the Christmas season, when at any given moment some sort of Christian- themed song can be heard drifting from the muzac system at the mall and jingling out of the speakers in one's car. Everywhere we look, the halls are decked with pine boughs, twinkling lights, candy canes, colorful glass balls, and the like. Of course, many of these adornments are also used in our Yule festivities. As I type, A beautiful pine bough lies draped across the mantle of our fireplace, a lovely tree stands lovingly adorned and sparkling before our living room window, and the outside of our home is alive with lights, flashing lollipops and a roof Santa (who spends his days flat on his face, looking like the Santa who drank a little too much of that spiked eggnog but comes alive with the spark of electricity we give him after the sun retires).

This past Saturday, my daughter's youth group had their Yule party. Everyone brought food (we made Mother Winter's Wishing Bread from the book "Circle Round: Raising Children in Goddess Traditions"), and we all sang rousing renditions of Paganized Christmas carols. Somehow, this seemed only fair since so many Christian holiday traditions have been stolen from us! It was so much fun to be in a room with other Moms and their children, singing songs that felt good to and right for us, with no fear of speaking our spiritual hearts. After the singing, the kids exchanged gifts such as bags of crystals, then decorated cookies. Saturday reminded me of the space in my life that needs to be filled with the companionship of others who believe as I do. When one inhabits a world that largely does not understand her spiritual path, it helps a lot to have people with whom thoughts can be freely shared, laughs can be enjoyed and lessons can be learned. I know my daughter had a good time, and I feel so grateful that there are people within our community who are willing to take this time to make these sorts of groups possible.

Holiday Russlings

Our house is decked out, sparkling and twinkling and filled with the magick of childhood at Yule. Sometimes, this is a difficult time of the year for us, a time when the spiritual leanings of my husband and I seem to be so different as to make us both a bit uncomfortable. During other times of the year, the fact that we practice different religions doesn't seem to matter so much. At Christmastime, a divide can open up between us that is difficult to jump across. I felt stirrings of this discomfort again this year, but only briefly. Rather than getting caught up in all if that this year, I've decided to focus instead on our daughter and the magick this time of year brings for her, on the blessing of being together as a family, of sharing the fun of decorating together, then sitting back on the couch and soaking in the warm, wintery atmosphere we've created. I'm focusing on the abundance and the things shared, not on any perceived lack.

It feels wonderful.

Post Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving yesterday turned out to be a nice day; fairly calm, quiet, and stress-free. The aforementioned alcoholic friend came over, and he had been imbibing a little bit, but he did his best to refrain from obnoxious behavior and was actually quite pleasant to be around. He wasn't tipsy drunk, just a bit into the weeds. I was glad he decided to join us, as Thanksgiving is a day for sharing and it would have seemed a shame to have made all of that food without being able to share it with someone outside of our home. As planned, I prepared candied yams, mashed potatoes (free of garlic, skins, or anything else our little one would turn her nose at), rolls, stuffing, corn on the cob, and the obligatory green bean casserole (I don't know about anywhere else, but here in America this dish is almost mandatory at any Thanksgiving function), as well as slow cooker mac and cheese which turned out a bit chewy but delicious at the same time. My husband was in charge of cooking the turkey, which he did with the help of a deep fryer. This is probably the fastest method by which to cook a turkey, and, when done properly, yields a pleasantly crunchy, golden skin and moist, juicy meat. Welllllll......enter my husband with the turkey. It was black. Coal black. This was a rather shocking sight for all present to behold and I confess that my first reaction upon seeing the bird (after I picked my jaw up from the floor) was to laugh. Being Cajun, he joked that this was a blackened turkey in the Cajun style, and proceeded to slice into it with a hopeful countenance. To our pleasant surprise, the turkey tasted okay. While it was not as juicy as the turkey he fried last year, it still tasted good. The skin was not really edible, but the skin isn't good for us anyway so it was probably better that we couldn't munch on it. I, myself, am not a major fan of eating turkey or chicken skin; I feel the texture to be rather unpleasant.

The only disappointment with regard to Thanksgiving is that I couldn't include my daughter in the preparations as much as I'd hoped. When baking is called for, she is right alongside me in the kitchen, mixing, scooping, dumping, sifting, etc., to her heart's content. Yesterday, however, most of what I needed to do involved sauteing and cutting, neither of which are safe activities for a five year old, no matter how talented she is when it comes to creating in the kitchen. She wandered in a few times to ask if I had any jobs for her to do, and was very sad that I had no real work for her, as was I. I regretted that there were no other children here for her to play with; both my husband and I have lots of children in our families, but none of them live here in Florida. This is particularly troublesome during the holidays, when celebrating with family is so much fun (at least, in our cases-I know some who prefer not to see family during this time, or any time!).

After dinner, we all lounged on the living room couch, eating pumpkin pie and feeling grateful for our full bellies and the companionship of one another. Neither of these things is to be taken for granted!!!

Into the Rush of the Day

Yesterday felt like somewhat of a failure to me- I had so much to do but couldn't seem to get moving. Monday-itis perhaps? I feel more positive today and am so into the idea of speaking affirmatively to myself, as opposed to moaning and groaning that I'm never going to get anything done. I do believe that self talk has the power to bring about unhappy results if one doesn't take care to speak to oneself the way she would an old friend. Sometimes, I need to be firm, always I need to be straightforward. I don't, however, need to call myself names and doom myself to fail in areas where, in the past, I may not have excelled the way I wanted to or hoped to. Each day is a new beginning of sorts, right?

So, today I go forward still unsure as to how our Thanksgiving is going to progress. Hubster asked a few people over yesterday, but they all have previously made commitments and it seems we might be alone this year. He is considering extending invitation to one of the guys who works for him, but the fellow has a tendency to get drunk and become a bit loud, and we're not sure if it will be best to chance that happening. The man is in a state of semi abstinence right now, trying to get his life together, but he's not unlike a tennis ball perched atop a steeple. He could roll at any moment, and once he does the momentum tends carry him along very quickly. Such is the disease of alcoholism, unfortunately. Without help, all one needs is a slight wind to topple him over the edge; so far, said guy has not sought out the help of AA or any other group that could assist him in his endeavor to stay sober, and it's very, very tough to walk that road alone.

Today I will be engaged in food shopping for the week and homeschooling with our little one. I'm grateful to have the resources for both today, and am focused on that gratefulness in earnest. Perhaps I'll talk with Little One about the Pilgrims and the Native Americans who helped them when they first arrived in the new land. This time of year is also a good time to discuss abundance and perseverance, sharing and giving. Making construction paper turkeys with real feathers glued on is also an option; I believe that learning should be fun and engaging, and my daughter needs breaks in between the serious business of learning how to read, add, subtract, etc.! I have meditation group to attend later, and I'm looking forward to that. There are always great people there, and having a little time to wind down and just "be" is important to my mental and physical well being. Here at home, it's difficult to find quiet time. There is always a doggie hitting the outside door to be let back inside, a cat jumping onto the table where I have my paperwork/books spread out, a drink of juice to be retrieved, or a sandwich, or books to be read. This is all great stuff, the music of my everyday life. I cherish all of it (as well as the many, many things I didn't list here), especially since I'm well aware of how fleeting time can be, of how quickly everything can change for good or not so good. Still, we need to remember to take time to breathe, to replenish our energy so that we have a continuing flow of the stuff. When we have plenty of energy to share, we can enjoy our lives more, and engage more effectively.

One, two, three, deep breathe. And into the day!!!

Nascar and Thanksgiving Preparations

It's hard to believe, but another Thanksgiving holiday is upon us! Like most every holiday/major event that happened this year, Thanksgiving kind of snuck up on me. Suddenly the other night, my husband and I began talking about what our plans for the holiday were going to be, and I became overwhelmed by holiday-itis. For whatever reason this year, I've been dreading the rush of the holiday season. Possibly this is due to being so busy on a regular basis with homeschooling and the daily process of keeping a halfway calm and collected home (and I do mean "halfway"). Whatever the case, I protested vehemently when the Hubs suggested inviting a few people over (my husband is Cajun, which means that "a few" people can range from five to twenty five individuals), not wishing to endure the anxiety of planning a large meal and pulling the whole party together in enough time to actually enjoy some of it myself. My fear had subsided a bit by last night, however, and I agreed that having a get together might be fun, though I made him swear that he would keep the guest list to a reasonable minimum (yeah, right). So, here I am, browsing Thanksgiving recipes on the internet (I have tons of recipe books but am not interested in pulling out several different books in search of recipes suitable for the holiday), and finding quite a few that sound yummy and shouldn't break the bank. Finances being what they are this year, we need to be careful how much money we spend on Thanksgiving, so that we have enough for the holiday shopping. I have yet to purchase one Yule gift, and possibly will begin tonight online after our little one is safely tucked into bed (if I don't fall asleep myself, which is usually what happens). Since she is now five years old, shopping for gifts with her in tow is dicey at best. She is no longer at the age where she is oblivious to my purchases, and it will be difficult to provide her with any surprises (or to perpetuate the Santa Claus myth) if she is with me, seeing everything I'm buying for her. Some things were so much easier when she was very small!!! But, I digress. I now have recipes for yams, stuffing, mac and cheese, the dreaded green bean casserole (I'm probably one of the only people in America who isn't crazy about this dish), and apple crisp stacked neatly on my very messy desk, waiting to be materialized into actual food. I daydream for a moment, thinking about how nice it would be if I could wrinkle my nose and magickally poof our entire Thanksgiving dinner into existence.... Alas, real magick doesn't work that way. I don't know what's wrong with me-I usually love to cook for other people. While I'm very grateful this year, I'm just not into all of this madness-a touch of laziness, perhaps? (Gasps audibly.)

The Hubs and I attended a Nascar race yesterday, the Ford something or other. While I can't remember the name of the event, the race was lots of fun. Having grown up with a Dad who restored old cars and made a living doing auto body repair, I have a love of automobiles that runs straight down to my soul. I love hotrods and fast cars in general, love how they work, how they sound, and (in some cases) how they look, all shiny and sparkly and revved up into bad- assedness:



Okay, so that last adjective is not a real word, but since I'm an artist, once in awhile I find the need to create my own words. No sense in using the same old, well-used ones all the time... I'd been skeptical about attending a Nascar race, thinking that watching cars speed around a track over and over again would get boring rather quickly. However, I was hooked by the energy and the noise and the smells from the moment the first green light flashed indicating the start of the action. The sound of all those motors being revved up simultaneously, then the music of tires on track combined with engines being run full on was mesmerizing. When it was finally time to leave (we had a child to pick up from the babysitter and a dog at home to let outside, so we left the Speedway early to avoid the crazy traffic), I was a bit sad. We heard the results of the race on the radio as we were driving home, tired and happy and smelling a bit like exhaust fumes. (I'm kidding about the last part, but we were tired and happy.)

Well, off to write my regular shopping list and attempt to get out of this house. Monday has somehow slipped out from under me and I've hardly any time left to accomplish anything at all today!

Have a blessed Moonday!

To Be In or Out of the Broom Closet

When I was in college and just discovering what being a Pagan was about (or so I thought; it seems I had A LOT to learn) I cared very little whether or not people knew I was studying Witchcraft. I wore my pentacle everywhere I went, spoke openly about the Goddess, left books about the Craft strewn about the apartment I shared with anywhere from two to three roommates and a cat. Once in awhile, someone would approach me offering their services in the department of "saving", which I would respectfully decline, then launch into a diatribe about how they really should do more research about their own religion, since most of what they were practicing was Pagan based. I didn't care much about being sensitive or low key, nor did I shy away from confrontation over the issue of faith. I was fearless, but naively so.

Nowadays, when someone questions me about my jewelry or my tattoo (I wear a small pentacle, and also have a vine pentacle tattooed around the upper portion of one of my arms), I explain what I believe in and try to be kind in my approach should their reaction prove negative. I have a greater respect for all religions, a better understanding of the energy we all share as human beings, as well as the energy we share with the earth and all of her inhabitants, in addition to the universe as a whole. It's okay if someone doesn't agree with me, though I will still explain my position and might even nudge them to read a bit of history, not to sway their own faith, but rather to gain a better understanding of the ideas of others, like me, who have chosen the less trodden path. Obviously, I don't hide who I am, but I'm cautious nowadays, more aware that sometimes prejudice and ignorance can lead to violence. I'm aware that even though I'm happy to explain the Goddess/God tradition I follow, my explanations might fall upon deaf ears. I know that if my very Christian neighbors discover I'm a Witch, they might be reluctant to allow their kids to visit our house, which would break my daughter's heart.

Recently, I attended a local Pagan study group. I met lots of interesting and intelligent people-artists, lawyers, teachers, yoga instructors, etc. In short, people from all walks of life who just happen to follow a Pagan path of some sort. I was talking with a man after the class, and I asked him if anyone at his job knew he was a Pagan (he is a teacher at a local high school). He shook his head and told me vehemently that he couldn't tell anyone at his school what his religious beliefs were, for fear that he would face discrimination and possibly lose his position. I think it's sad that ours is one of the only spiritual paths today where this is the case, where even the wearing of a pentacle, a spiritual symbol, might be looked upon negatively and even discouraged. We live in a country where religious freedom is treasured, and yet not all religions are accepted.

Because I'm a Mom, I face new fears with regard to my spiritual path. I don't want to be hassled over how I'm raising our daughter. I don't want my little one to experience any difficulties from parents of friends who don't understand, or other kids. Paganism and Wicca are much more accepted nowadays than they were back when I was in college. Due to the internet and people like Laurie Cabot, who I believe have provided the public with more education regarding the Craft and what it's actually about, as well as the availability of many, many books (some good, some not so good), more people are receptive to the idea of someone being a Pagan or a Witch or Wiccan (the terms are not necessarily interchangeable; a person might call him or herself one but not the other). I know Pagans who are very open about who they are; they accept the good and the ugly with grace and seem to get along just fine. I admire them and hope to one day join their ranks. I have my doubts that I will ever be open with everyone, but one never knows. Sometimes a bit of wisdom needs to be exercised in these matters; it's great to be honest, but it's also wonderful to have a job that keeps the food on the table and the bills paid!

I worry when I read about Sarah Palin and her association with a Pastor who is reputed for conducting Witch hunts in Kenya-ones that resulted in violence to people who probably were not even involved in Witchcraft. I suspect his motives were political in nature, but the fact remains that many people bought into his insanity and fell victim to his fear tactics. I hope that, over time, people will grow to be wiser, more willing to educate themselves in the truth.

For now, the door to my closet is about halfway open!!!

A Lazy Sunday in Early November

November in South Florida is much different than it is in my New England hometown. Up in those parts during this time of the year, the air takes on a crispness. There is a whisper in the wind about the cold winter soon to arrive, the leaves are glowing in oranges, reds and yellows, the gardens are being covered over in preparation for early frosts and the long winter nap. While I can recall feeling a sadness at the loss of sweet summer afternoons spent outside reading a good book, walking and taking pictures on a Saturday with my Mom or just doing whatever seemed right on a wonderfully warm summer day, I also remember the wonder of ice on the trees, of the impossibly long icicles clinging to the eaves of my mother's house, like stalactites on the ceiling of a crystal cave (or are those stalagmites? I always get confused between the two...). Freshly fallen snow sparkles in the sunlight, leaves city streets quiet and more explorable, creates a perfect canvas for snow angels and "I love yous" written in footprints.

Here in South Florida, the voice of autumn is more subtle. Small, colorful birds are tweeting and flitting amongst the branches of the trees, along with other migratory birds with whom we don't normally have the pleasure of making acquaintance. The weather has become more bearable; gone are the days of 98 degrees and one hundred percent humidity, at least, for a short while. The beaches are, for me, a more comfortable place to visit than they were a month or so ago, when the hot sun would feel strong enough to sear me to a crisp. The Canadians and other "snow birds" (who I envy) are flocking here once again, settling in for the winter away from all parts cold and icy. I strain to hear the songs of fall wherever I can, for the turning of the seasons feels natural to me, the changing of the scenery in tune with my inner clock, and the absence of these things in a blatant manner is something I've never become accustomed to. My spiritual path, in part, leads me to a longing for the snow and cold that lead me down here in the first place (along with an ex-husband who had family here and whose dream it was to move to Florida-he lives back in Massachusetts these days). I have an inner need for a season of quiet and reflection, a season that I believe is possible but must be created with some effort when one lives in sunnier climes. One can embrace the slightly cooler weather with gusto, take the time to notice the different wildlife with whom we share the woods and our back yard, and tune into the energy of life which we all share.

Blessed is this season of autumn!

Meeting new people and having new experiences

It's been a long time since my last post-almost a month!!! Life has been busy since the start of our new homeschool year and I've been faced with much less in the way of personal time. When I have a few moments for the stealing, I need to choose very carefully the activities with which to fill that time. There are very few of those moments in the offing, and I have many, many projects that I long to spend time on! That's not to say that I am not loving what I'm spending my time on. Our little one is learning how to read and do math, we've joined a recently started Spiral Scouts group, along with another young kids' group, and I've met a wonderful group of witchy women with whom I hope to engage in some spiritual work. They hold a full moon gathering each month; thus far I have been unable to attend, but I hope to be invited again for the next gathering. I'm very excited to have met some people of like mind. It has made me realize just how isolated I felt in my spirituality. I have felt a deep longing for the past several months to connect with other Pagans, people who understand where I'm coming from and with whom I can engage in some honest spiritual and magickal talk without getting the old hairy eyeball. In short, I've been feeling a deep need for connection with people with whom I can be myself, truly and deeply. I have been asking the Goddess for this, and it seems that she is responding in kind, and I'm very very happy to have these new opportunities ahead. On another note, our little one turned five today! It's hard to believe that it's been five years since she and I were holed up in the hospital-me waiting axiously for those two days to pass so that I could take her home and get on with life (that stuff about resting turned out to be a bunch of bs-how can anybody rest when someone is waking her up every two hours to draw blood?). She has been the light of my life since that day five years ago. As these years have passed, I have grown into a woman, transformed beyond my wildest dreams, because of my love for her. How can we live our lives fearfully when we long for our child to live her life with gusto? Our children tend to "listen" to our actions more than our words; what they see us do is important. And so, I'm doing things today that I would have been terrified to do a few years ago. She is an amazing little person-independent, full of curiousity and fire. I feel blessed today, and I hope and pray that the next five years are as wonderful as these past five have been. Slainte!

Just a Little Nip for Friday

My husband found this dragonfly just before our trip to NOLA, so beautiful it seemed to still be alive. Isn't it wonderful what beauty nature sometimes sets right before us if only we are willing to walk through the day with our eyes wide open?

Back Home and in the Swing

We got back from New Orleans a week ago, and slowly life has resumed it's normal pace. Or, quickly, maybe I should say, as it seemed the second we arrived through the door there was laundry to be done, bills to sort through, floors to clean. It feels good to be back home, though; it feels good even to be doing all of the normal, everyday chores. It was great to be away visiting family, but the routine of life changes a lot when one is out of town, and that routine can provide some comfort in a crazy world. My husband's mother is suffering the beginning stages of Alzheimer's and it's a horrible thing to behold. Once a strong, very intelligent woman with a wry sense of humor, her mind is beginning to fail her a bit, and she's living in a nursing home due to the need for around the clock care. His father tried very hard to take care of her, but the task was too demanding for him as she cannot maneuver herself around the house anymore and was having difficulty eating as well. Leaving the nursing home, I was struck by the grim reality that we need to do the things we want in our lives as soon as possible, whether our desire is to travel, create artwork, raise chickens, whatever. We might be spry as a leprechaun when we're 80 years old (if we make it to 80), but we could just as easily be feeble and half blind.

New Orleans was wonderful, as always. In the past I've found it to be a city full of magick and high energy and this trip was no exception. We stayed there for just two days-the first day we were in Louisiana before heading north to stay with my husband's family, and the day before we flew back to Florida. The last night we were there we took a carriage ride around the French Quarter, listening the whole time to the driver's narrative of the history of the city. New Orleans is indeed a city that has suffered much loss, which I suppose is the reason for all of the ghosts who haunt her streets and alleyways. She is also a city whom many artists call home, where people who are just a little different from the "norm" can find a nook where they feel comfortable. She has a sweetness not unlike the night blooming jasmine that perfumes the air during her sultry evenings.

I will miss her!

Getting Ready for Our Trip to LA

It's a busy Monday here today. I'm multi-tasking as usual, blogging, eating lunch, making phone calls. It's my goal to have all the loose ends of our business tied up before we leave. I don't want to be in Louisiana worrying that something isn't right here in Florida. A reflection of the tough economic times, the liability insurance carrier we were using went bankrupt; we need to carry liability insurance in order to operate. This means that I need to have another carrier in place as soon as possible, so that when a new permit needs to be issued or a contractor calls to ask us to send them a copy of the certificate, we're legal. This is a frustrating turn of events, since we just recently became clients of said bankrupt company. I'm sure they were aware of the dire straits their company was in; I'm not sure whether our agent had any idea. I'm also unsure as to whether we will ever receive back any of the money we paid to the insurance carrier. Whatever the case, I'm hoping to have at least part of this issue resolved by day's end today.

Also on today's agenda is a trip to the library with my little one. She has been patient with me thus far, but we will need to get out of the house soon. We have books that are due back, and I'd like to borrow some new ones before our trip. I'm not crazy about my most recently borrowed two books (they aren't as informational as I'd hoped they'd be), and we've read all of my little one's books several times over. I have most of my paperwork completed. The only thing standing in the way between us and the door is this nasty little liability insurance issue.

A grey squirrel just ran along our back fence, happily basking in the sunshine. Wouldn't it be nice to be a squirrel just for one day? Provided you didn't run into a pack of hungry dogs, it would be such a happy, carefree afternoon!

A Few Thoughts on Wednesday

I found these pretty wildflowers growing in our backyard last week and decided to take a few pictures before they were eaten by iguanas, discovered by the dog, or mowed down by the mower. The did survive both the dog and the iguana tribe, but the lawn mower got them yesterday. I would have mowed around them, but most lawn mowing men care not for pretty little wildflowers. For me, they brightened my morning and I'm grateful for having spied them through the dining room window. Perhaps they will sprout up again.

The below picture is a jar of caterpillars we discovered munching on a tree near our house. We captured them just in time for said tree to be sprayed with some sort of repellant, possibly saving their lives and giving them a chance to grow into moths. Tetrio Sphinx moths, to be exact. I'm not sure we'll be able to satisfy their voracious appetite; they eat about three leaves per day apeice, and I can't supply them with so many leaves per day. They the leaves of plumeria trees, which we have none of in our yard. Feeding them involves sneaking into a local church yard and plucking them off the tree, and this I cannot do every day as I'm not near the church. Plus, I might draw a bit of suspicion if I keep creeping into the church yard each day. I don't exactly attend church there.

And, that's my peice for today. I haven't really accomplished much, and I feel very guilty about that. Some days it's hard to get motivated, and this was one of those days.

What to Do...

My husband just called, having received a phone call from the friend I mentioned in the post below. Apparently, she is hanging out at a convenient store near the beach; she is homeless and was calling him for help, but he's working and is just generally tired of dealing with this sort of thing. Lots of people are having this reaction, as she (I will call her Holly for the sake of posting, but her real name, I feel, should remain anonymous) has received help in the past from many, including her friends and family, only to turn around a week or a month or a few months later and drink/use again. No one is sure what to do anymore, but I feel horrible about not doing anything. This girl is like a sister to me. It tears me up inside to think of her sitting alone on a sidewalk someplace. I have a small child and I have to think of her well being before I consider the needs of anybody else. That's the crux of this situation for me; I can't do anything that will jeopardize my child's mental or physical health. This leaves me, in this case, with few options. I can't bring her into our home. I can't go to her right now, by myself with my daughter. I can't even call her, since I don't have a phone number for her. At best, I could drive down to the beach and try to find her, but then what??? If I can't take her anyplace, what can I do? I spend lots of time talking about how I've met few people here in South Florida who are real friends, or who are even real friend material. There are a few people in whom I place great faith and trust, but they are like jewels in beach sand-precious and difficult to find. There are lots of sparkly stones but not many gems. I've put lots of prayers out there; I hope that one of them gives me (or Holly) the answer that's needed to truly help her.

On the other side of the full moon...

It could be coincidence, but I've noticed as of late that I seem to be more energetic and optimistic during the waxing moon phase than during the waning. While there may be nothing to this observation, it could also be true that I'm doing much better during the creative phase of life than during the phase of removal, undoing and banishing. I find this interesting, though now I'm also wondering if my newly found energy and determination is going to wane with the moon, until it becomes a little sliver and disappears into the darkness. I don't believe this must be so; I am focusing on this time as a time of removing obstacles to my success, of working away from the character defects which hold me back from my fullest potential. Possibly, it's how we look at life which creates a shift, sometimes.

On another note, I was saddened again over this past week by the struggles of a very close friend. Once again, she is succumbing to an addiction which doesn't seem ready to let her loose. Once again, I feel powerless to help her. The last time she fell off into the deep end of the river I tried to help her, both by remaining in contact and petitioning for her spiritually. I believe strongly in free will, however, and I'm not sure how much we're allowed to meddle in that, even if we believe that it's for the good of the person who is in trouble. I've also seen how the strength of will can sometimes overpower any other energy which attempts to swallow it up. Simply put, my friend needs to be willing and ready for help in order for that help to be fruitfull. So, a few mornings ago, I sat out on the dock in our back yard and whispered a prayer. As I sat quietly, a large crow glided effortlessly along the wind currents over the lake and landed out of my view in the arms of a great tree on the other side of the water. Two other, smaller, crows alighted on the branch of another tree, this one on my side of the lake and only a few feet away. They remained there as I sat in a sort of meditation; it seemed as though they were looking down at me as I was looking up at them. I was overcome with a feeling of belonging to the Great Song of life, the Oran Mor, and it felt wonderful. A sense of peace washed over me from head to toe and into my very soul. All of the colors around me vibrated with life and I noticed rays of light emanating from springs below the dark surface of the water.

I don't know what will happen over the next few days. As I type, my friend's boyfriend is making plans to head back up north. He can't remain here watching her hurt herself and I can't place any blame on him for that. I hope for the best for both of them, and I will continue to wait, to see if there is anything more I can do for her. The Universe has a way of speaking to us, if only we are open to hearing Her voice. Sometimes, it's a boom like thunder or the sound of jet engine. Sometimes, though, it's soft, like the air passing between the irridenscent feathers of a crow's wings.

Another Fun Saturday

I haven't posted in a little while, mostly because I've been so busy with trying to get myself organized for our upcoming school year (we start homeschool kindergarten this year!!), trying to further my spiritual life, and contemplating just how it is I'm going to start a new art project. I really really need to get back into some creative activities. I remember reading something that Van Gogh once said about how painters have to paint; there isn't a real choice-they paint or they suffer horribly for not doing so. That statement rang true for me when I first read it, and at no time in my life has it felt more real than now, when time is in short commodity and staying centered and focused is usually challenging, at best. Add to my artistic angst a deep seated need I've been assaulted with lately, a need to connect with other witchy women. I suppose that "assault" isn't really a good word to desribe this need. It's more of a nudge. As soon as I realized that I was ready to truly dedicate my life in the direction of the Goddess, I became endowed with a deep desire to live the truth of this path in my life. This is easier when one is involved with a good group of women with whom to share parts of this journey. Since our way of life is not the norm, having others with whom to laugh, tell stories, share experiences (both good and bad), work rituals, etc., is such a valuable thing. Recently, I contacted a local temple, but I have not received a response back with regard to meeting the women there. I know that when the time is right, the group that is best for me, and for whom I'm going to best, will show itself.

For now, I have a popped balloon crisis to deal with. It seems that our German Shepherd puppy thinks breaking balloons with his sharp new teeth is great fun. Unfortunately, my little daughter does not enjoy this type of revelry!!!!

A Wonderful New Week

I took a deep breath on Friday afternoon and decided that if I ever wanted to possess a deep sense of peace and contentment again, I needed to re-examine my priorities and stop sitting around pissing and moaning about everything that isn't as "quite right" as I'd like it to be. The truth is that I have much more to be grateful for than I have to bitch about, and sitting around in a black depression isn't helping my daughter, my husband, my friends or me. I'm the type of person who, once I've reached a point where I absolutely cannot stand myself anymore for my attitude, will do everything in my power to facilitate the change within (or changes) that's needed to change my outward situation. Keep in mind, however, that I have a high pain threshold. This is great when one is attending to childbirth or nursing a scraped knee. It's not so good when it comes to dealing with emotional issues which are wreaking havoc in my personal life.

So, on Sunday, I took Little One to her first Spiral Scouts meeting. We're not an official group yet; paperwork is being filed, information is being gathered, and uniforms are being purchased. A bunch of us moms and kids did get together at a local tea house and socialize, getting to know one another over crafts, trying to decide upon a name for our troupe, and browsing the beautifully magical merchandise that the cafe offers for sale. It was a nice day for all, I think, and I was excited to find out yesterday that the name I suggested for our group was chosen. I think it was Goddess inspired.

Little One loved the group. Because we homeschool (though we're just going into kindergarten homeschooling this September, so we're still very new to the scene), this sort of thing is great for her as far as socializing with other kids. She soaked up the interaction, and, later on, proudly told Daddy all about the craft she made.

Monday brought a visit to the craft store, where we purchased a foam castle kit which my girl put together with the help of her wonderfully attentive Daddy. While there I bought a pad of Bristol board and whispered a few words of gratitude at the fact that I already own a nice collection of Prismacolor pencils, which have become so expensive as to be almost beyond the reach of most of the artists I know. I made a decision that since it's very hard for me to find the time to paint right now, I'm going to dive back into colored pencil work, which is more portable and doesn't require any setting up. I already have a Goddess series in mind, inspired by the artwork of Mickie Mueller (her site is right here: http://www.mickiemuellerart.com/). After I bought the pad, I was overcome with a feeling of joy and excitement; I've needed an artistic outlet for a long time, and now I have a glimmer of hope. I feel like some positive changes are afoot, that the energy in my life is shifting. Of course, we are currently under the watch of a waxing moon, and for some reason it always seems to me that my attitude brightens during this moon phase.

It's amazing how much just getting out of one's desk chair, imbibing of the fresh air, and making a decision to, well, just MOVE can alter one's whole perspective on everything. For me, being a good mom is essential to my own serenity. If I feel I've failed at that on any given day, then nothing I've been successful at really makes me happy. Each day must be approached with a certain measure of balance. Some days this comes naturally; most days it requires a bit of work and a willingness to change the schedule if a situation arises which requires that I re-think my time frame. Today was not the best of days. I was stuck for the better part of the morning typing away at some invoices that need to go out if the bills are to be paid. The rest of the day was consumed by banking, going to the Post office, and more banking. It's incredible how quickly the hours fly by. We drove home in a rainstorm, but my attitude did not match the weather today. Instead, I commented to Little One about how great this water will be for our new flowers (which have yet to poke their little heads from the soil), as well as for all of the trees and plants in our area. My daughter chimed in that it would be great for creating big puddles in which to splash around. Yes!!! That's what life is about, I think-taking opportunities for experience and diving into them. Saying "yes" instead of "no". Taking the road less traveled. Finding the courage to create, even when the creativity doesn't seem to be flowing (as I feel today, sitting at the keyboard struggling for words that usually seem to pour forth like tea from a pitcher). For my whole life, that's what I've always wanted to do. I admire people who aren't afraid to jump into whatever it is that stirs their passions. Here's the opportunity, and I'm getting out of my seat.

Attitude Adjustment

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, I suppose at least partly due to a lack of sleep and also a slight depression. My husband's mother is very sick and my intuition has been telling me for quite some time that she might not make the year, though I always leave room for things to change. I'm not sure I believe in fixed destiny. I like to believe that circumstances can change, that the choices we make can alter our course. I think I've convinced him that going back home to see her might be a good idea and will be checking out tickets online. New Orleans, here we come! Of course, this means that my annual trip home to Boston will be postponed; I'm not sure when I'll get up there and I'm extremely sad about that. I've gone home each year for the past four, and not going up there now, when the weather is wonderfully mild and there are lots of places to go and things to do is a sad prospect. I miss my family terribly, and this latest turn with my beloved Mother-in Law, as well as the death of one of my husband's employees, has only reminded me of the sweetness and preciousness of life. I'm horribly tired of everyone being so far away and feeling so lonely all the time, in spite of having a few wonderful and supportive friends. Some people can leave where they come from and never look back. They don't long for the old familiar places or the luxury of being able to call an old friend or special family member for a lunch date. I'm not one of those people. The problem is that we don't know whether or not we're one of those people until we've moved away. I'd insert a heavy sigh if not for the paradox-I had to come here to meet my husband, who I love and adore, and to birth our daughter, who I love with all of my heart and soul, and to have the experiences which have made me the person I am. The growth I've experienced over the past ten years has helped me to be a better friend, parent, spouse, and family member. I do believe that part of the plan of the Universe was for me to come down here and become a better person, even if I still long for home and the places I knew growing up. Even if I don't feel like Florida will ever really capture my soul.

Anyway, I feel guilty feeling so sorry for myself when my husband is going through this difficult time. He's stoic about the whole situation, but I know that deep inside he's hurting and just trying to keep the strong facade going. I want more than anything to be able to support him through this newest course of life. I also want his Mom to have a chance to see her cherished granddaughter again. I regret that she and my daughter have not had more time together. Each time we've gone to visit I've been loathe to leave, so precious is their bond. I had the blessing of knowing each of my grandparents for a significant number of years (though it's never enough time, is it?); I feel sorry that my daughter has not had that opportunity, and that she's not had the time to spend with her own grandparents that I had. My maternal grandparents helped to raise us-we practically lived at their house. In fact, I eventually did move into their home and lived there for quite some time.

On to positive vibing----

I think that tonight I'll go back to the study group I attended last week. I could use a powerful group ritual and a good, lively discussion. While it may be tempting to stay home and brood, doing so will get me nowhere but further into the melancholy. Prior to that, I have some errands to run. Maybe the neighbors will want to hang out for a bit-their kids are in cahoots with our little one and it's always refreshing to have another Mom to gab with.

What's that????---- I just heard another broom falling out of the closet.

Magical Wednesday???

The magickal Monday of which I spoke on Monday morning, quickly turned into a torchurous Tuesday as the little one and I both came down with some sort of bug which derailed us both for the whole day. I believe my daughter was already sick on Sunday night, as she let up a great wailing in the restaurant where we were having dinner directly after the waiter asked her what she'd like to eat. At first, I thought she was frightened by him in some way (though he wasn't really a frightening character), but after he left our table she continued to fuss. The fussing continued throughout dinner, much to the chagrin of our fellow restaurant goers. We gobbled up our food quickly and returned home, where my little one calmed down considerably and promptly fell asleep. Monday morning the Peanut seemed, at first, to be feeling better, though she was not her usual energetic self. By around 10am, she was back to fussing, and we stayed home, me cleaning our house and she lying on the couch enjoying a Noggin marathon (Noggin being the educational program where we live). Fast forward to Monday night. Suddenly, my own body seems to have been invaded by the same evil nasty which is causing great misery in my daughter's life. Accosted by a headache which threatened to explode my sinuses and an upset stomach which made even the yummiest of food look like something the dog left in my yard, I joined my daughter on the couch. Tuesday was a complete washout, with us both moping around the house sipping soup and juice and water and avoiding the outside world at all cost. Today, we both are feeling a bit better. The headache is lingering, but it's not as sharp, and my little one seems to be fussy but doesn't feel warmer than usual and is eating with slightly more gusto. So, I guess magickal Wednesday it is. We'll take things slowly, maybe visit the library and take out some new books. That always serves to make me feel better!

Once Again, a New Week Begins

It's funny how once one hits the age of around 35, time begins to fly like a hawk after a mouse. The weeks flip by like pages in a book, and suddenly you wake up and you're 40, and you wonder if you'll be able to accomplish all of those things in life you spoke so proudly of when you were the tender age of 20. The good side of this is that, if you're lucky, you become possessed of the feeling that you'd better get your act together and stop messing around. You realize what a gift each day is and you decide to get off your butt, stop complaining (so much), and get out into the world. I'm finding that spiritual books help a lot-I'm currently reading The Four Agreements by don Miguel Ruiz and I highly recommend this book. Of course, the books only help if you take what you read and put it into action. Life should be a verb, rather than a noun.

I'm still high off the ritual that I attended last Thursday. The energy of being around other people with similar beliefs to mine, of raising that energy in a circle, releasing it, gathering together in a sort of group prayer, and then grounding was something to behold. I'm eager to attend the next study group on Thursday night. The key for me is to understand and to continue to understand that this sort of community is something I truly need. I tend to do things that make me feel good, that are aligned with the path I want to take, then sabotage myself by deciding that other things are more important and blowing them off. Before long, I'm left with a feeling of resentment caused only by my own inability to commit to doing things that are good for me. I'm not sure why I do this, but I'm tired of doing it and I'm now committed to the changes that I desperately want and need to bring to my life. Or, maybe I should say that I'm committed to the work that it takes to get there, to the dedication.

I woke up yesterday morning after nine hours of sleep, amazed by how much of a difference getting a full night of shut eye makes in my energy levels. I'd been a bit concerned by my lack of energy during the week, but now I see that I'm simply not sleeping enough. I was able to accomplish the somewhat daunting task of cleaning our house and attacking the huge pile of laundry that was looming in the closet of our bedroom (the house cleaning took about two hours, while the laundry turned out to be an all day affair), as well as various other necessary tasks, all without feeling like I needed to take a nap at 2pm. Wow!!! Last night I didn't sleep very well; my sinuses were acting up. I'm going to the gym anyway, and am sticking to the schedule I mentally laid out last night. This means that I need to get off the computer now, and wake up the little one. She won't be happy, but, hey, it's 8am!!!! I need to get her onto a schedule as well. I keep reading that kids thrive on schedules and my attempts to actually establish a consistent one since the day she was born have been largely unsuccessful. Today, however, begins a new week and there is something magical about Mondays. They have the power to transform the whole week.

My First Group Ritual

Hooray!!!!! Tonight I finally gathered up my courage and attended a local study group at the UU Church. I've considered attending such meet ups in the past, but always felt shy about going alone. Since my dedication, however, I've been in bad need of fellowship with others of like mind and heart, and this felt like the right place to begin. While the internet has been a great jumping off point as far as communication with other Pagans, it doesn't offer the closeness of honest to goodness face to face contact. In this group, I found some fun, interesting people with similiar beliefs to mine. This was the first time I've ever identified myself as a witch in public, and it was amazing! Coincidentally (or maybe not), I ended up sitting directly behind the High Priestess, who possesses a wonderful energy.

After the study group, we all went outside to a beautiful clearing surrounded by trees behind the church. There, in the quiet of the night, we lit a bonfire and conducted an invocation which corresponded to the topic of the study group. There was such a positive, amazing energy in that ritual. I walked away from it tingling, with a feeling of renewal and happiness that left me eager to return. At first the feeling was so powerful that I wasn't sure I'd grounded my energy enough, but as I drove home I realized that this is what it feels like to stand in a group and raise power with other people Wow!!! I'm blown away by the experience, and so glad that I finally stepped out of the comfort of my own little altar space (which is still a beautiful and special place to be!).

A Nature Walk on a Dead End Street

I'd feared yesterday would be a wasted day, but by the end of the afternoon I was feeling a bit better physically, in bad need of some sunshine mentally, and wanted to get my little one outdoors for a bit. With a spirit of adventure, we dragged her little pink bike out of the laundry room and rode down to the end of our street-not a long distance, but good for a little girl who gets tired out quickly in this hot summer sun, not to mention, her mommy. We spent quite a bit of time there at the meadow at road's end, watching butterflies flutter by, moths floating gently from flower to flower, ants busily working, and dragonflies gliding through the air with their vibrating wings. We mused at how the grass and flowers must look like a huge forest to the little ants and wondered at the tiny moths we saw, all decked out in bright orange and black wings. I noticed flowers and insects at the road's end yesterday that I've never taken sight of before during my walks with the dog. It is truly amazing what one might see if she takes the time to stop and really look. Equally amazing is how much seeing nature through the eyes of a child can bring a person more into touch with nature. So, toward the close of what started as a yucky day, a blessing occurred!

Blech

I know. Nice title for a blog entry, huh? That's how I feel today, though. Just blechey. Whatever this latest bug is, it began it's full frontal assault yesterday morning, when I woke up feeling as though someone had removed my lungs in the night and stomped on them before replacing them back into my body. Today that feeling is accompanied by an upset stomach, a few sniffles ad just general body acheyness. So much for hitting the gym; that plan has been derailed for today. I will have to force myself into doing the small amount of paperwork which must be done, getting into the shower and possibly going to the mall, where my daughter can run around a bit. While I can't afford to buy anything, at least it's air conditioned and there are plenty of distractions to help keep me from thinking about how bad I feel. That said, maybe I should just stay home and try to avoid passing this glorious whatever it is along to some poor unsuspecting fellow mall goer. This might be a better option. I can do a craft with the little one and possibly later in the day she can go next door and play with our neighbor's daughter. My dog seems to be experiencing sympathetic pains. This morning, just before 6AM, he threw up in his crate. Being a Mom, I tend to have a stomach constructed of steel when it comes to all manner of yuckiness, but I draw the line at throw up. My dog now smells horrible, and I think he feels the vibe that I'm having difficulty sitting close to him (he loves always being close to me, which is usually a beautiful thing). My husband swore on his way out the door today to go to work that he'd be home early and would give the dog a bath. I'm really praying for that right now.

On that note, I will bid my farewell until later. I'm sure nobody wants to read about such horrid stuff, and I'm eager to discover whether or not taking a shower will give me a bit more energy and make me feel better. Wish me luck.

Monday Again???

It's hard to believe that the weekend is already over. We decided to forgo our road trip for another week; I'd forgotten that we had a Spiral Scouts meeting (which ended up being canceled) and so we stayed in town. Hubby decided to try his hand in a local golfing tournament, and I took our little one on a library adventure. Two of the local libraries had events planned, so we first attended a magic and puppet show, complete with live bunnies. After the show, the kids had an opportunity to hold the fuzzy little creatures while they snuggled in little cloth pouches which I guess are designed to keep the rabbits feeling safe. My little one kept him carefully positioned in her lap, almost afraid to touch him for fear of letting him fall. I finally convinced her to pat him and he was so so soft! After this show, we drove over to another nearby library, where a guy who goes by the name Billy Joe Bob performed his own show. He played guitar, sang a Dr. Suess book (Green Eggs and Ham) and did his best to get the kids involved. Most of the children were shy, but my daughter got right up front and sang her own cute rendition of the ABC song all by herself. She was one of only two kids who got up there and sang and I was so proud of her bravery! So much for homeschooled children not being socialized.....

On Friday, we attended our first doggie training class with The Pooch. The woman teaching the class was wonderful-she has a warm personality and even brought her own dog to the class. Our doggie enjoyed chasing the other puppy around, although he seemed quite smitten by her and was disappointed by her aloof behavior. I suppose she was playing hard to get. It was nice to know that we have been doing things correctly as far as how we've been raising the dog. The teacher informed me that we are "miles ahead of most people". Hooray!!!! All of those books I've been reading have been helping, apparently. At one point, she told me that it's good to hug the dog and give him treats while doing so. She added that since most people don't hug their dogs, they aren't used to being hugged when small children grab them (as small children will) and so it's good to get them accustomed to this sort of thing. I laughed and told her I hug our dog all the time, so I don't think that will be a problem. It never occurred to me that everyone wouldn't do this. How can somebody not hug such a sweet creature???

Today is a new Monday. I'm not sure what we're going to do today. I was feeling a bit under the weather yesterday and still feel tired today, so the gym is out until tomorrow. Maybe I'll take my little one and let her run around at the mall or something. It's difficult finding inexpensive things to do around here, and with money tight I need to be careful. We might go on an adventure later in the week, but today I'm trying to keep things simple. With this heat, it's difficult to be outside for any length of time.

Happy Monday, everyone!

The Brooms are Falling out of the Closet

One of the more difficult aspects of being a Pagan, at least for me, is that one can't go around blathering about one's belief system without encountering some fierce opposition from time to time, mingled with blatant ignorance. I don't necessarily blame people for their ignorance-at least, not all of the time-because they've grown up being fed the religions and beliefs of their own families. The religious system I subscribe to has it's roots in lesser known traditions and spiritual ideas. Those ancient ideas have melded with newer beliefs, to form a religion that's still relatively new. I don't expect that when the average person takes a gander at my pentacle tattoo, he or she is going to understand what it means. And, forget the word "witch". This word is supercharged; just a whisper of it is enough to have some people grabbing torches in the form of words, sometimes very cruel and close minded. With all of the negative stereotyping and all of the arguing taking place on the internet with regard to Paganism, Wicca, and the like, I began this blog anonymously. It was not my desire to stir up controversy or get involved in religious debate. I've kept this blog separate from my Facebook page because I'm not sure that even my family would understand the path I've chosen to walk. Though, Goddess knows I've never exactly been the conservative one in my family! Slowly, however, I'm finding the need to reach out a bit more, to find others of like mind and heart. I'm beginning to reach a place where I'm ready to put my toe into the water and see how far the ripples reach. I'm tired of spending so much time in the broom closet, afraid that someone might notice the (very tasteful) pentacle I wear around my neck, or question the altar that graces a portion of the eastern wall of my bedroom. It's taken me a long time to reach the place where I am spiritually today. It has not been an easy road. It continues to be a path littered with boulders and gulleys and incoming arrows. I constantly teeter on the fence between not wishing to be a hypocrite and not wanting to alienate my neighbors, who I truly like, who have kids in my daughter's age group with whom she enjoys playing, and who just happen to be fairly hardcore Christians. In the past, I've tried to follow the easier way. I tried attending the Catholic church of my grandparents, but found that the belief system doesn't make sense to me. While I agree with some of the teachings of Jesus, the idea of a man being God doesn't jibe with me, and what I know from extensive research into different religions also does not boost my faith. More challenging for me was the Jewish side of my heritage. In Judaism, I find much more to agree with, ideas that are spiritual but also feel more scientifically sound. I did, for a time, enjoy this path, but it also did not feel completely natural or "right". It would have been a much easier journey to take, and some days I think that maybe I should reconsider, but my heart won't let me. Recently, I borrowed a book from the library entitled "A Witch Like Me" by Sirona Knight. I began reading it over coffee this morning, and I hope that reading about the journeys of some of those who have gone before me will help me to feel less alone. There are pagan gatherings nearby; I may begin attending a few here and there. Tomorrow is our first meeting with the Spiral Scouts; that will also help as far as networking with other Pagan parents. For now, I'm looking out my windows at the beautiful green trees across our small lake, swaying in the gentle breeze. I'm thinking about what I'm going to do with my little one today (before we attend our first doggie training class). I'm considering what my purpose on this earth is today, who I'm supposed to reach, who I'm meant to be reached by, what journeys I'm going to embark through my art and writing. I take a deep breath, and I move forward.

Time to Hit the Road

Hubby and I were talking over coffee this morning about getting out of town. For a couple of weeks now, he's been lamenting over the length of time that has passed since our last road (or airplane) trip; now, finally, my own wanderlust has gotten the better of me. When I stated this morning that I was dying to get out of town, to just escape, he asked me what I wanted to escape from. I considered for a moment, and then stated that it wasn't really an escape from anything in particular, but rather just a need for some sort of break in the daily routine, a change a scenery. I have a longing to see places not usually viewed during our daily lives, to talk with people whose paths we normally would not cross, to smell different smells, and have new things to talk about. I am in need of the freedom that getting away from home offers. There has been such an energy sadness around here lately and that tends to sap one's energy. Doing some traveling, even if only for a short period of time and not over a long distance , can help recharge the psychic and physical batteries. We return with a new, fresh perspective and a rested soul that is ready to once again fight the good fight.

Today, after hitting the gym and doing something with my little one, I'm going to hit the computer and try to figure out where we can run off to for a couple of days. Hubs is up for about anything right now; he called out this morning, on his way to the truck, that I could throw something together and let him know what we are doing. That offers me a little bit of leeway-is it going to be a trip to the Keys, a jaunt to the west coast? The possibilities are somewhat limited given the amount of time we can leave, but I'm sure we can figure something out. Hopefully, this Friday we will be making our way down the road, Hubster, Little One, Moon Dog and me. Would it be too over the top to take the cat as well???

Have Courage, Grasshopper...

There's nothing like the death of a friend who seems too young to have passed away to bring one to a realization of just how precious life is. I mean, really realize it. We all blah blah about how life is so precious, how we should live each moment to the fullest, how we shouldn't waste time because we never know how much time will be allotted to us. I'm not sure how much we believe those words, however. In the back of our minds there might be a little voice telling us that although we've seen others die suddenly, or before they've been able to fully realize their potential, surely we won't suffer the same fate. And then, somebody close dies and we realize that it could just as easily be us who is being mourned, just as easily we who could have lost the chance to take that trip, or paint that masterpeice, or write that song. Sometimes, especially lately, I wonder if I'm really working as hard as I could be toward the goals I'd like to achieve. I wonder if I'm giving life everything I've got, or if I'm just being lazy. This made me think about how one can avoid the pitfall of apathy, or of laziness, or of feeling powerless and giving up on the dreams that have fueled our zest for life for so many years.

I beleive that the first step toward living a more meaningful life (besides finding a spiritual center, which has been so vital to my own survival) is defining what it is we want to accomplish. Do you want to be a successful writer, a painter, an activist for world peace, an environmental warrior? Whatever it is you'd like to be when you "grow up", you need to identify the title before you can work toward claiming it. Possibly, you'd like to be more than one thing. I would like to be a great Mom and partner, an artist and a writer. I'd also like to join a group of women who will be my spiritual sisters and work toward some activism within my spiritual belief system.

Another crucial step toward acheiving our goals is living without so much fear, whether it's fear of failure, fear of success or just plain fear of having to do the work or keep a committment to something. I've found that in life I don't have so much trouble committing to a partner, but when it comes to committing to highly involved friendships or other endeavors (which are so rewarding and wonderful when one actually takes the time necessary to cultivate and nurture them), I've fallen a bit flat. I really want these things, but I have issues with anxiety and becoming easily overwhelmed that need to be waded through. I know that if I can come out the other side of these problems, I will be able to shake off the fear like loose feathers in the wind.

Laziness can also become a problem for some of us. I, by nature, am not a lazy person, but I do need to keep some momentum going in my life or I can easily find myself engrossed in a long tv- a-thon of America's Next Top Model, Law and Order or some other such squawk box drama. These shows are great, but not if one sets oneself down in front of them for hours, neglecting all the little matters of life which beckon just outside the doorway of the bedroom or living room. Likewise, the internet can also be a horrible time-suck, causing one to lose precious minutes and even hours which could be spent out there living life instead of just reading or talking about it.

Once we've leapt over these hurdles, we need to figure out which steps can be taken today to draw our goals closer to us. Yes, I said TODAY. There are lots of things we could do "come Monday" or "next month when I have more money", etc. What can you do today? Taking action is a powerful step. Making that first move creates a sort of magic through which further action is possible. I think of that first step as being sort of like pulling one's foot out of gooey quicksand. Once one foot is out, the other is sure to follow. Before you know it, you're out of the muck and walking through a beautiful forest, full of all sorts of exotic creatures and empowering experiences.

For me, time is always an issue. That said, I recognize that I need to prioritize more, to spend less time on the computer, less time in the bathroom getting ready for my day, less time reading over breakfast (reading has its place, but knowing when to place the book on the table and walk away is important if I don't want to wile the whole morning away). There are so many things I want to accomplish, and as the years progress I realize how much time I've spent not working toward those things, not engaged in the things that interest and excite me on a passionate, visceral level. Just writing this article, seeing my words on the page, is helping me to understand how much of being successful in life is about shedding the excuses and getting down to business.

Lets do it!!!!!

Talking About Death from a Pagan Perspective

Last night our friend, Charlie, passed away. He leaves behind two daughters, one fourteen and one twenty (I'd thought that one was fifteen but I was a year ahead), various siblings, and many friends. I have for the past many hours, been unable to get the image of his face out of my head. I've been thinking about him a lot, possibly because he was a person who was at our home often, who I've known for quite some time, or maybe partly because it's frightening to me that someone could be walking around, talking, seeming very well, one moment and be gone the next. For sure, I'm sad for his girls. I lost my own father at the age of twenty and all of these years later still cry sometimes for missing him. I wonder how they will cope without his love, support and guidance. I hope that they will find healthy ways to heal and not hide from the pain by artificial means as I did for several years. There was no warning for Charlie; death just crept up and took him away. He didn't even have time to contemplate the imminence of his demise and what he wanted to accomplish before he left his bodily form- he never regained consciousness after the heart attack. It still feels unreal to me that he's gone; I half expected to see him hop out of my husband's work truck this morning as he pulled back into the driveway. Kinda makes you think about grabbing each moment and living life for all it's worth, eh?

Up to today, I hadn't spoken with our daughter about death much at all. Okay, I haven't talked with her about it one little bit. She seemed too small to expose to the darker elements of life, the sadder stuff of which our existence is partly made. I decided that since we're going to attend a memorial party in Charlie's honor tomorrow, now was a good time to talk about what death means, at least as I understand and believe. Our little one is going to experience an abundance of sorrow around her, lots of people crying and talking about Charlie. She knew him, and I felt that not explaining what was happening would most likely prove to be more frightening than addressing the issue and attempting to give it some explanation. Using the book "Circle Round-Raising Children in Goddess Traditions", by Starhawk, Diane Baker and Anne Hill, was helpful. In the book is a short passage related to explaining death to a small child, as well as a story about how one Mom discussed death with her child in a way that didn't seem so scary. I used the basic framework and gave it my own spin (I wanted to be genuine as kids can spot anything phony a mile away and just reading out of the book might not really have seemed completely genuine). I explained that when we die our spirits go back to the Goddess to be cared for by her. I talked a little bit about how our souls rest and review what they've learned in the life they lead, and how sometimes they are reborn into a new life. I related that even though death is a passageway to a new life, the people left behind are usually very sad because they will miss the person who has passed on. Feeling proud of myself for broaching this difficult (for me) subject, I expected that some sort of discussion would ensue. Silly, silly Mommy!!!! Our daughter simply looked at me, smiled and continued to play with her Miami Hurricanes Ibis doll. I know that her little mind will work over what I said as time goes on, maybe tomorrow. For now, our house is quiet. I'm heading off to make a vegetarian chicken pot pie and hopefully turn in early to snuggle under the covers with a good book.

I hope everyone has a happy and safe Fourth of July holiday!