Samhain Approaches!

Halloween is on it's way, our house is decorated with silk autumn leaves (no real ones to be had here in South Florida), silky black crows, pumpkins, sparkly orange lights, and black cats. I love this time of year, and this year I sprung for a few new decorations to really give our home that Samhain flavor. Soon I'll begin creating a menu for our dinner for our beloved dead. We held a dinner like this last year and it felt honoring of those we love who are gone as well as healing for us. Sadly, this year's honorees will include a close and very special friend who recently crossed over, a beautiful spirit who has left us too young. My daughter has been experiencing difficulty in even mentioning our friend's name, so approaching this particular dinner with delicacy will be a priority. Last year, after our special meal was over, I felt a bit sad and drained. I expect that this year will yield the same effect and I plan to hold a small, very simple personal ritual in the side garden after everything has been cleaned up and the night is winding down.

As far as engaging in Craft activities goes, I recently attended a wonderful study group with our local CUUPS group, after which I had the honor of actively participating in a ritual of blessing. Having missed quite a few study groups lately, when the call went out for people to open the quarters I gleefully offered to help call the elements of the North. Happily, one of my Temple sisters joined me, along with a quiet fellow I'd never met before. All went well that night until it was revealed that a woman in the circle had been videotaping the whole thing (a big no no in our group). When confronted, she became indignant, stating huffily that the video was her personal property. As more people approached her from the circle, she stated that she would delete the video when she got home, but my gut told me she wasn't being truthful and I advised that this would not be acceptable- it was wrong for her to have taped people without their consent in the first place. Finally, she agreed to delete the video, a task she needed help to accomplish, as she admitted she didn't know how to do this. Obviously, she had no intention of trashing the video after she returned home!

Privacy during ritual is important. While one person might feel free about publicizing his or her Pagan lifestyle, for another to do so might cost him/her a job or jeopardize a career. Additionally, there are some in the community who aren't ready or for whom it isn't practical to expose their spiritual beliefs to some or all of their family members. The web site for our local CUUPS group is definite in it's "no camera/no video" rule. Unless someone has explicitly agreed to be photographed, there should be no picture taking. Pagans are like everyone else- we hold jobs as lawyers, doctors, teachers, bus drivers, and everything other job one can think of. Some of those jobs also employ people who wouldn't be open to our way of life.

As you celebrate the turn of the year this Samhain, enjoy the company of good friends and kindred spirits on either side of the veil. And, if you're lucky enough to attend a holiday ritual, remember to be respectful of others who are doing the same. Stay in and enjoy the moment, and, unless you have been designated a photographer for the group or have been asked to memorialize the gathering with pictures, keep your memories safely tucked away in the scrapbook of your mind.

Samhain blessings.

Hanging Out Around Town

Being home has been wonderful, like being able to breathe again after a year of holding my breath. I know this sounds melodramatic, that lots of people live far from their places of origin, but it's my truth. At the place in life where I currently reside, just south of middle age and well aware of the quick passage of time, being home is all I really want. I want to live and walk and talk and breathe and laugh New England. I want to be able to have an afternoon of unrushed laughter, tears, and conversation with my Mom. I want my daughter to spend time with her family without having to squeeze those moments into small snippets. I want to avoid the yearly arguments over who sees us and when (because too many of our family members don't communicate with one another). I want to feel really really at home with where I live.

Today, Sparkle Fairy and I wandered around Porter Square. We had breakfast, then did some shopping, stopping first at a natural foods and goods store, then at a funky little book store which featured a cafe complete with vegetarian sandwiches. I watched my daughter scarf down a sandwich filled with arugula, tomato, and avocado, smiling at her aversion to most forms of meat, an aversion we largely share. Artsy crunchy people are my people and it was refreshing to be in an environment so full of these types of people, with resources I love close by. There are people like this in Florida, but it's a different scene altogether.

As we walked to the subway with my Mom later, I noticed that the air had cooled a bit, carrying with it the promise of autumn. It's late summer here and soon the weather will be tinged with a crispness, worthy of sweaters and big soft blankets. Back in Florida, it will still be hot in October, a fact I liked when I first moved to the state but have tired of after too many years of living in the southeast. I'm weary of the bugs, the heat, the hurricanes, and the absence of people like my best friend of twenty five years, who lives here in MA. I'm tired of living in a place that has never been my home the way that this place is.

I'm enjoying it as much as I can.

Boston Bound!

At this time next week my daughter and I will be in Boston! I've written often about how much miss home,
how badly I'd like to move back to the northeast, and I will be very happy to reconnect with New England's energy again. I feel whole when I'm there, more comfortable than I do anywhere else. It's where a piece of my heart resides and for that I am unapologetic.

The Painful Possibility of Time Traveling

I recall reading once about the possibility of time travel.  I'm not sure if the writings were by Albert Einstein, but I think they were, and he wasn't saying that time travel was definitely possible, but rather that, according to the law of physics, it was theoretically possible.  There is a big difference in something being theoretically possible and completely do-able, but my heart still leapt just a bit at the prospect.  As I considered the matter further, however, I realized the difficulties that doing something such as this might present.  I wasn't thinking about heading into the future (I have no desire to see how everything is going to turn out ahead of time) but, rather, wandering back into the past.  I would love to see my father again, and to spend some time with other beloved people who have crossed the veil into another existence apart from my own day to day life.  I'm not sure that I would be able to refrain from trying to alter what happened in my Dad's case, though, no matter how much doing so would most likely see me in a completely different life from the one I have now. If my Dad had not died in that accident, I probably would not be living in Florida, would not be married to my husband, would not have ever given birth to my beautiful daughter, would not have been available to be a mommy to the stray cat who was left at our apartment door that autumn day a few years back.  I'm awed by how tremendously every small and large decision can impact our lives and the lives of others, for good or for ill.  If I could go back in time, I'm sure I'd go visit my Dad that day. I was supposed to go see him, was supposed to spend that day with him, but I needed to write an art history paper; it was part of our final classwork before the year ended.  Later, when I received the paper back from my teacher with notations made, recommendations of things he wanted to see changed for a better grade, I refused to make any changes at all and just turned it in as it was.  I looked at that paper as the reason I hadn't been home, the reason my Dad had hung out with a friend of his, the reason he'd been on that bad corner on his motorcycle, the reason he'd had that accident.  I no longer gave a rat's ass what grade I got on that cursed art history paper. I wished I'd taken it with me and worked on it at his house; maybe that last ride would never have happened. 

There are a few other things I'd like to alter as well.  But would doing so be right? Part of me thinks that yes, it would be, because so much pain could have been averted had a few decisions been made in a different direction, not just on my part, but on the parts of other parties involved. One of the most difficult aspects of life is how clearly we are able to see the components of situations after events have taken place.  How could I have known what the cost of staying at school that early spring  day would be? Or how much my cousin probably could have related to me, how much I could have helped him had I fully understood the inner turmoil he was experiencing?  I supposed it matters little now, but these are questions which tortured me in the days and even years after their deaths. The "what ifs" have great potential to break a mind, if we allow them to needle us for too long.  I've stepped back from them for the most part, understanding that life has continued in the way it has, that other, better decisions have been made which have created new life, new wonderful possibilities.  We can't see ahead with twenty twenty vision; it just isn't part of how life works. The future is a mystery until it arrives and we can only learn from our mistakes.

As far as traveling backward and not changing anything, that too would be difficult and much more painful than my heart could keep beating through.  To spend time with loved ones, knowing that their lives are going to end soon, feeling the poignancy of those last precious words, hugs, kisses, laughs-how could we endure such things and remain anchored in the sanity which lets us move through this world as productive human beings?  These moments are meant to be experienced in the present, fully embraced and appreciated for what they are. I'm reminded now of how important it is to savor these times, that understanding how fragile life is can be a catalyst for loving better, for living more fully and in a greater state of awareness.  I can't go back in time, but I can live more fully in this time.

I know I can't walk backward down the pathways of yesterday; it's not possible for me to wander back twenty or so years into the arms of my Dad.  Nor is it feasible for me to be a small child, decorating the tree at Christmas to the sounds of 70's music, my parents joking and talking happily in the background as I carefully placed colorful glass balls on our fake tree, mesmerized by the magic of the season.  I can't sit in my Papa's lap, smell my Grampa's pipe smoke, experience the reassurances of my always optimistic Gramma, run through those backyard woods that seemed like huge forests to my seven year old mind.  I can't go to lots of those very much missed places, except in the wonderful rooms of my memory.  And I can't dwell even there for too long, because I'll miss out on the beauty of what is happening right now. 

I can't go back. Going back would probably be an invitation to catastrophe.  But my heart still longs for those I miss. 

Travel Plans

“Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.” – Jack Kerouac


Yesterday, I booked our flights to and from Boston.  I'm happy that the arrangements have been made and excited that soon I'll be back in the arms of my mother state and among family.  Of course, there are always snaggles in any plans I make and this time is proving to be no different.  Last year, I went up to Mass. alone with my daughter.  Being a business owner, my husband often finds getting away difficult because if he's busy he needs to be here to get things done.  This year, he decided to come up anyway, albeit for a shorter time than we are, which is okay because this allows my Mom and I time to spend alone with Sparkle Fairy.  Lots of the activities we enjoy are not things the Hub Man would be interested in, so if he was there for the duration he'd most likely be bored, and I'd feel bad and, well, you get the picture. 

The snaggle in this otherwise beautifully woven vacation plan is that many of the people in my family don't talk with one another, so every time I go home to visit I need to commence running around to several places or risk missing out on spending time with someone.  Every year someone ends up with hurt feelings, or angry.  Since nobody is in my proverbial shoes, no one knows how I feel being placed in this position, but that hasn't stopped some well intentioned relatives from offering their solutions or criticising me for not choosing the correct plan of action.  I see my Mom once a year for far too short a period of time.  I want to see everyone, but I don't want to miss out on spending as much time with her as I can, and so these trips can be very difficult from a logistical standpoint. It would be so much easier if we just lived there.

Still vision boarding.....

A Change is Gonna Come

There's something in the air, a whisper of hope born of longing, a feeling that real and positive change is coming. I can't quite put my finger on why I feel this way; there haven't been any omens or winning lottery tickets in my life, nothing really obvious to assure me that the work I'm doing is going to bring about good things. I'm a big believer in the idea that we help to shape our own destinies, though. If we truly want to see growth occur and dreams realized, we need to get our hands dirty. Vision boarding helps (I'm engaged in that too), and a little extra sparkle thrown into the mix is grand, but hard work has to follow. Rare are the times we're handed anything for free, and, anyway, we value things more when we've worked for them! Our work is also like a beacon blinking to the Universe, saying we're ready for and worthy of the realization of our goals.

Time to get back to work!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

A Few Slices of Life

It's been difficult for me to write lately time-wise, but I'm trying!  Our yard has been going through the changes of summer, with some things shriveling away to nothing in the intense Florida heat and other plants dancing for joy. Our blackberry vine is climbing happily up the fence:

I picked a few brown leaves off of her yesterday but have also discovered the small green beginnings of berries and every so often wind the growing tendril of plant through the fence, hoping that the neighbor's gardening crew won't mistake it for a weed and hack it down. 



Of course, we also have a few chimes hung here and there, making music in the summer wind.

Well, short and sweet for today! Blessed be this fair Tuesday!

Finding the Magic in the Everyday

Magickal Graphics

For the past week or so, I've been slogging through the depression which finally fell over me, after having stalked me for quite a while.  Depression is a funny thing-it comes quietly, sometimes triggered by sad events or other situations that leave me feeling powerless, and sometimes with little or no warning and for no apparent reason at all.  I think that for me it is, in part, a condition inherited from my the maternal side of my family. I've learned to manage it better over the years, knowing that most of the things my mind tells me while I'm under its grip are lies which will be revealed once the condition finally leaves, but it's still difficult when I'm wandering through the dark, using every tool at my disposal to reach that little point of light at the end of proverbial tunnel.  I've learned not to immerse myself too deeply in the daily news, sticking mostly to short clips that I read on the internet or to magazines such as Time and Newsweek, since television tends to sensationalize every single horrible event of the day to maximum, rating raising effect. Our house is painted in bright colors, because even though I love gothic design and dark colors, I also love vibrant colors and they tend to be the ones that lift my spirit. I focus on all of the people, animals, and things I love in my life, on the Great Spirit and nature and everything I see as a blessing.  There are so many blessings hidden (and not so hidden) in every day, and those are the truths in my life, the things that are real.  I write and I create works of art and I play with my daughter and my husband and our dog and our cat, and, yes, even our turtle.  At some point, the fog lifts and my energy comes back, as began to happen today, much to my gratitude and joy.

Tonight, after we ate dinner and the kitchen had been cleaned up, I took our dog for a walk in the muggy night, under the light of a moon about half waxed to full.  A light breeze ruffled the trees and there was a positive, happy energy on the wind.  We crossed the main road to walk alongside the golf course, our path lit by street lamps and our steps accompanied by the music of cars wooshing by.  Surprisingly, on this particular night there was a "fairy feel" about the golf course.  I noticed a knarly melaluca tree, its skin peeling, branches reaching upward into the dark night, and something about it seemed so magical to me.  It appeared to me to belong in the midst of an enchanted wood, a home for fairies and elves.  The white beast sniffed about the base of a thin palm tree and I noticed that the short row of palms we were standing amongst looked like a tiny oasis right there on the side of the road.  The grass bent and whispered as the dog sniffed away, sensing other dogs who'd journeyed past, and the breeze whispered in my ear that, yes, even this place, beside a main road next to a golf course, held some magic and wonder. I would not have been surprised had I seen fairy lights as I gazed across the darkened field, though my eyes were met only with grass, trees, and small, soft hills.

I am humbled by nature, by the power she has to heal and comfort me.  And I am thankful. 
 

Moving Day for the Neighbors

 

When we decided to purchase our home, one of the things that encouraged us to take the plunge was that our neighbors on either side had children young enough to play with our daughter.  In fact, two of them are close to her age, and have been great playmates for her over the past few years that we've lived here.  We fell in love almost right away with the house itself-the energy in this place has been welcoming and just generally great since day one-but it's always nice when another factor pops up to make you feel as though you really are making a good decision, especially when a large sum of money is involved!

Yesterday, a huge moving truck was parked outside for most of the day, loading up our neighbors' belongings for the long trip across the country to their new home state of California.  They have a little girl just a tiny bit younger than Sparkle Fairy, and a young son who we've enjoyed watching grow from babyhood up to this point.  Today, a few more things were loaded onto a truck and our neighbors themselves began their new journey.  My daughter has been very sad about this move since the day she was told it would take place, a few months ago, and there have been many tears.  Yesterday, she looked at me and said with more than a little frustration in her voice, "Mommy, why do my best friends always have to move away?!"

I could relate to this sentiment.  Many of my good friends have moved as well.  In fact, since I've moved to Florida it seems that many of the people with whom I've become the closest and with whom I've related the most have eventually pulled up their Florida roots and hit the road to parts far removed from this soil.  There are many reasons for this; some have left to escape the hurricanes, other have obtained better jobs, desired  a change of pace from that which South Florida offered them,  were tired of the crime/crowding/heat/rapid cost of living increase, etc., or wanted to live near family again.  South Florida seems to be the type of place that people move to with an expectation, but realize after they've been here for awhile that their vision doesn't match the reality of living here. I've been disillusioned with it for several years but so far we're stuck here for work related  reasons. 

I've felt sad for the past two days.  I always feel, when people leave, that I'm being left behind. I'm not sure why this emotion always hits me in the gut (maybe some sort of unresolved childhood issues? ) but I definitely feel a sense of that today.  Maybe it's just that a part of me desperately wants to go home, to be near my own family again.  In some respects, Florida has been great to me, while in other ways it hasn't been that great at all.  Lately, we've been feeling quite a bit of the latter, and I've been trying to focus more on the positives in an effort to not slide into negative thinking, which is unhealthy on a few different levels. I find solace in the monthly circles I try hard to attend, in the Facebook posts of friends and family, in the friends who are still here, in my own little family and our small brood of animals.  These things counteract the deep longing I have for the forests and hills of my homestate, the changing seasons, my beautiful extended family, Saturdays hanging out with my Mom, the salty, boggy air of Cape Cod, and the old familiar places I grew up around a little bit.  Lately, though, it seems like so much is pushing us away and the longing is growing stronger than my rational mind can process.  I'll keep trying to stay focused in the now, and will vision board, and enjoy every wonderful person and thing and event that is front of me at any given moment. 

Tonight, though, I'll let myself be a little sad. 

Feeling a Bit Out of Sorts

I awoke this morning feeling sad and not quite right.  I didn't feel depressed, and I don't feel that way now, but I felt right on the brink of depressed, that time when you feel grateful enough to have joy in your heart but are also in a place of deep contemplation and a little bit of fear (okay, maybe more than a little bit of fear).  Death has been so close lately, and it's really been getting to me. 


Years ago, after my Dad died suddenly, I developed a deep seated fear of losing people.  If my brother forgot to call me after he drove home from my house at night, I'd panic that he'd been in a terrible accident.  If a boyfriend came home late (especially if he'd been traveling on his motorcycle) I'd fly into a panic.  If I passed an accident on the highway, a pit of ice would form into my gut and refuse to melt until I'd passed the scene and ascertained that no one I knew was involved.  I was never able to relax completely into the wonderful moments of life because I lived in constant fear that "the other shoe" would drop, once again destroying my world as I knew it.  Some version of this fear has followed me for many years, only subsiding over the past few, as I've dealt with my father's passing through meditation and prayer and grown deeper into the spiritual path of my choosing.  Over these past few days, however, the fear has crept back into my heart, and since quieting it has proven fruitless I'm searching for ways to deal with it before it spirals out of control again.

Lots of things have happened recently to reignite the flames of this old post traumatic stress bonfire.  A friend was in a bad motorcycle accident that mirrored my father's accident in so many ways that it's scary.  He is still in a coma, having lived with his injuries longer than my own Dad did, and the outcome is still uncertain.  I keep hoping and praying that he'll wake up and be, at the very least, mostly able to recover fully (though fully recovering would certainly be the very best outcome, of course).  I don't want to watch his family go through losing him the way we lost our Dad; to have gone through this situation and then watch another family go through almost the exact same thing is surreal, on some level.   Another man who I've known for quite some time recently passed away after a long illness, and a friend who has been through many ups and downs of life with me was diagnosed with cancer not long ago.  He is fighting valiantly, but I feel so afraid for him.  He's around my husband's age, still a young guy, and the prognosis is hopeful but things could go either way for him.  Then, just today, I found out that an uncle of mine is ill.  I'm still not sure what's going on with him-my cousin wrote a brief post on Facebook- but I have the distinct feeling it isn't good.  As I tend to be very empathic when it comes to my family, one of the reasons for my feelings of intense sadness this morning might be linked to this situation.  

Because I live a spiritual as well as a physical life, I believe that something exists beyond our earthly existence.  I'm not one hundred percent sure of this, or of what actually happens, but I do believe our spirits continue onward, crossing the veil of death and possibly going through the process of reincarnation for a time.  Different religions have different ideas about this, and I've been introduced to many of these ideas, and they do provide me with some modicum of comfort when someone dies or I begin to contemplate my own demise.  This does little to assuage the sadness I feel over losing someone I love, however. The part of me who, at times, doubts the existence of a supreme creator or just plain loves someone and misses him or her terribly experiences a great torment of the soul when someone I care about passes over.  Sometimes, it feels as though death is looming over us all, just waiting for that perfect moment to snatch us up and devastate everyone around us.

I don't mean to be morbid or depressing tonight.  I'm spilling ideas onto the computer screen, trying to sort out my own jumbled thoughts, hoping that tomorrow when I wake up I'll feel more positive and sunny.  Right here, in this moment though, I feel like a black cloud is hanging over the earth and I'm trying to dodge it's ominous shadow with everyone I love tucked in close, attempting to accomplish the same task.     

New Link on My Page

To the right of my posts, I've placed a link to a suicide prevention page.  My hope is that anyone visiting my blog who is having thoughts of suicide or knows someone who is or might be, will visit the site.  I've wandered through it and it looks very helpful, and as this is a subject close to my heart I decided to place the banner on my page. 

Several years ago, when I was still in college, I received a horrifying telephone call from someone in my family (I can't remember who as I was so traumatized afterward that I remember very little about that night other than my friend's room mate offering me a shot of Jack Daniels in sympathy).  I was visiting with my boyfriend at the time, and ill prepared for the message that my beloved Uncle had killed himself by carbon monoxide poisoning in his vehicle.  Unbeknownst to me, he'd made attempts in the past, apparently plagued by the same wretched depression that has chased down many members of my mother's side of the family.  My Uncle was father to three children, all of them young, two of them very young, and his death was devastating to all of us.  To this day, I think of him often. As an adult, I find myself relating very much to the way he used to view life and wish I could pick up the phone to talk with him, and to hear his wry humor again. 

A few years after this incident, the manager at the Boston print shop where I worked hanged himself.  He was a sensitive soul who, coincidentally, had the same first name as the Uncle I mentioned above.  No one expected this-my friend had always been possessed of a sarcastic wit and a biting sense of humor, and these things seemed to help guide him through the more difficult aspects of life.  I have a few ideas with respect to what pushed him over the edge, but they're mere speculation and I won't post those thoughts here.  I suppose that, all of these years later, the reason for his suicide doesn't much matter.  What does matter is that the world lost a good person, someone who helped people who needed money by letting them do small jobs at the shop, provided people with the opportunity to learn as much as they were willing to try, was a mean color matching whiz (very important in the screen printing industry), a fierce pool player, and a true friend once he let you beyond the sometimes tough veneer.  I miss him. Thinking about him, and writing this paragraph, I miss him all the more.

Just before the birth of our daughter, a very special and close friend ended his life by suicide.  This is still a difficult memory for me.  Our baby shower took place at the home he shared with his wife, a home where I'd also been guest at many holiday dinners, I'd attended his beautiful marriage on a South Florida beach a few years before, and I knew him to be kind, funny, and highly intelligent.  He is missed horribly by so many people, not the least of which is his wife, who was devasted by his passing.  I still have a book he lent to me a few years back; he'd told me to keep it until I'd had the chance to read the whole thing.  Every time I glance at the cover or turn the pages, I remember him and wish he could've stayed with us awhile longer.  

About a year ago, our neighbor across the street died from suicide by firearm.  My husband had become fairly close to him, and he was well known and respected in the horse racing community. This past month we planted a lemon tree in his honor because, disturbed greatly by his death, I meditated quite a bit and kept receiving the message that a lemon tree should be planted.  After conducting some research, I learned that lemon trees are symbolic of friendship, clearing away negativity, faithfulness, and the human heart.  Also, I discovered that in Judaic tradition it is believed that planting a tree in honor of someone who has passed helps to elevate that person's soul toward God.  I have felt healed of the horror of his death after planting the tree (I felt terrible that he'd been going through such torment and that we, living just across the road, had not been able to help him), and I like the idea of his soul being elevated, since he was in so much emotional pain toward the end of his life.  The violence of how he killed himself bothered me intensely, and so the lemon tree as a symbol of clearing away negative energy is nice, and I tie faithfulness in with the idea of a forgiving God(dess) who has accepted our friend's spirit and begun covering him with healing.     

The suicide of a loved one can leave survivors feeling sad, confused, angry, powerless, and depressed.  If you have experienced depression, feelings of worthlessness, hopelessness, etc. and are considering suicide, or if you are dealing with the recent (or not so recent) suicide of someone close to you, you might consider checking out this link.  "How I Stayed Alive When My Brain Was Trying to Kill Me" by Susan Rose Blauner http://www.amazon.com/Stayed-Alive-When-Brain-Trying/dp/0066211212 is also a good book for those of us who deal with depression and have minds that occassionally endeavor to take us out. 

Peace.

Ready to Run!

Tickets for Disney have been purchased, the hotel has been booked, and soon the family and I will be happily wandering around in Walt's world of wonder. It amuses me that, in California, residents sometimes call Disney Land "the tragic kingdom". To me the nickname fits in well here to. I love going to Disney World, but Florida (at least where we live) is not my first choice of places to live and is certainly not the paradise some believe it to be. Of course, for the people laying such a claim, it might be. My version of a heavenly place would not include an absence of real seasons, inch long (and larger) cockroaches, one hundred percent humidity, and the sort of heat that wilts all forms of life suffering beneath it. But that's just me. I can't help but wonder if there aren't more people who agree with me but refuse to admit it because they spent so much time gloating to other people about how much better life was going to be once they moved here and now can't bear that they might have been wrong.

Anyway, today we'll try to figure out which park to visit (or parks- though we only have one day, so I'm not sure it's reasonable to assume we'll be park hopping). Sparkle Fairy is excited, as are we all (just escaping town for a couple of days is a joy-leaving the grind for some breathing time is refreshing). A friend is staying at our house to care for the animals and keep an eye on things. This gives me some sense of comfort as I intensely dislike leaving our dog at a kennel and am concerned by the crime which seems to be escalating around here. Just a few days ago one of our neighbors had his house robbed while it was covered and being treated for termites. He believes it was the actual workers who stole from his family and I have a feeling he's correct in this suspicion. I had a not so good feeling about them when I drove past the house and spied them draping the heavy tent over the place. I kept thinking that it would be easy for them to steal something but I shrugged it off. It's not like I could have stopped and admonished them, but it would've been amusing if I had and they'd been left to wonder how they'd been discovered. The problem with this scenario is that my gut feeling could've been wrong. My experience has been that it rarely is, but I still have trouble trusting it sometimes. We're so programmed to have faith only in what seems practical and to doubt that which defies reasonable explanation!

So, it's time to put down the coffee cup, catch a shower, and move forward with this day. As always, there is much to do and I'm already behind.

Blessings on your journey through the next 24!

Child of the Full Moon

"You've spent your life in the middle of things, whether it's between people who oppose each other, ideas that oppose each other, or places that are very different. You're very aware of perspectives outside the norm and good at anticipating how different people will see a situation. You value second opinions, because they give you a feeling of balance. You don't have a single group of friends and the people you spend time with may not have a lot in common with each other." (Characteristic of one born under a full moon.)

I discovered this site through the website of a woman who I truly admire  (the site is Spacefem.com) and was amused to discover that this really is pretty true.  I am blessed to enjoy the company of a diverse group of people of varying faiths, etc., I tend to be the mediator of peace in my family, and I almost will almost never accept the opinion of one person when something important is at stake.  My spiritual beliefs run far and wide, I don't honestly trust the teachings of any one book or religious leader, but I do believe there is a spiritual truth that runs through most faiths.  I feel the most comfortable with nature and the spiritual being I find there, and with the Goddess/God concept.  These things have brought me an enormous amount of comfort over the past month and have helped me to grow exponentially over the past few years.  In the Goddess I finally found my voice, and I wonder how it is that any faith which has relegated religion only to a masculine form has been able to satisfy the majority of women.   While I understand that this concept does work for some, it has always been a bit troubling to me.  That said, religion fascinates me, and I love talking about it, studying it, discussing the subject with other people.  I respect the beliefs of other people and very much enjoy learning about how they relate to a Higher Power, what rituals and traditions they follow.   I cringe only when I begin to hear words of exclusivity; claims of one way to redemption, condemnation to hell if one doesn't follow a prescribed path, and the idea that a murder who has lived his whole life terrorizing others will go to heaven by accepting Jesus as his Lord and savior but my Jewish Grandfather, who lived his life doing good for others and seeing the good in everyone (including said murderer) will not seem ridiculous to me.  Isn't our God more intelligent than that? It make no sense whatsoever that a God who understands human nature and our tendency to believe what our experiences reveal to us would operate this way. 

While I'm prattling, I wonder who, exactly, defines what is "normal"? So many of the people who I find to be interesting, fun, deeply spiritual,  and intelligent seem to fall outside of this perameter.  And, as I find myself walking into the forest of middle age, I care less and less what others opinions about "normal" are when they conflict with my own.  They may have their own beliefs, and I'm allowed to have mine, but I'm done with apologizing profusely when what I believe offends someone else.   I believe strongly in peace, justice, mercy, living as much as possible in harmony with the earth and stars, harming none unless I'm defending myself or someone else and harm is the only way to do that. 

 I hope that I will always be aware of "perspectives outside the norm".  This awareness had lead me into meeting some wonderful people over the past couple of years, and I look forward to meeting more and to developing closer relationships with some of those with whom I presently share company.

Namaste.

What Being a Mom Means to Me

Every year when Mother's Day rolls around I'm filled with gratitude.  This year, my thoughts were mixed.  Feelings of joy and of being profoundly grateful for the family with whom I've been gifted mingled with the sadness of my husband's Mom not being around this year to celebrate her own Mom-ness.  I knew (because each year when Father's Day makes its appearance on the calendar I experience a twinge of sorrow over my own Dad not being here to honor) that this year would be especially difficult for him.  I felt focused on making the day happy and fun for all of us, making the whole weekend happier for us all.  Indeed, it was wonderful, though, of course, not because of anything I did especially.  The weekend just came together well; friends invited us out to dinner, my husband had the spontaneous idea on Friday night of driving down to Fort Lauderdale Beach for dinner,  which opened the door to lots of fun and laughs.  Sunday we had a little time on our own, a rare treasure these days, and went to see Dark Shadows and then, well, the rest is private husband and wife type stuff.  

Anyway, Sunday morning, I heard Sparkle Fairy and the Hubs whispering in the bedroom as I sat at the kitchen table, bedraggled and sipping the day's first blessed slurp of coffee.  Casting a bleary eye toward the hallway, I saw her making her way to the kitchen, a sweet, secretive smile turning up the corners of her mouth, with Daddy close behind.  In her hand was a small bag, which she proudly presented to me as she kissed me and wished me a happy Mother's Day.  Tucked inside the bag was a large coffee mug from Dave & Buster's. She'd bought it for me with points she won there during a recent trip with her Dad. I was touched that she'd thought of me, that she'd used her precious tickets to buy me something for this special day, this day that she makes so special just by being here.  I always thank her on Mother's Day, because without her I wouldn't be a Mom, wouldn't know the amazing feeling fulfillment that parenthood brings to those of us with a heart for embarking on the journey.   Here the Sparkle Girl is giving me a gift, when I feel like I should be giving her something for presenting me every day with the indescribable joy of gazing upon her face every morning as she lays sleeping.   She nudges me to keep searching through the bag, and I pull out a small box.  Opening it, I find a little silver owl nestled into a bed of tissue paper, a new charm for the bracelet the Hubs started for me a couple of years back.  Owls have a special meaning for us: his Mom collected owls, and we inherited a large part of her collection when she passed over.  He explains in a soft voice how he felt like this was the perfect Mother's Day gift, how it made him think of life continuing through our daugther, even though his own Mother is gone.  Again, my heart wells, filled with the joy of the moment, with this wonderful way he thought to show his love for all of us and heal just a little bit more himself. 

Being a  Mom has shaped me, changed me, shifted my focus with regard to what is truly important in life.  Raising our daughter is teaching me, on a very intimate level,  just how quickly time passes, and just how vitally important it is to savor every little moment, to live fully in each experience we share with our families, our friends, and in the activities we cherish.  It's helped me to be more aware of the world "out there" that needs our help, that I should be more active in helping to heal the earth and her inhabitants, that my responsibility extends far beyond the reaches of my own threshold. 

In a word, being a Mom, to me, means, well--- everything.  

A Wonderful Women's Gathering

Last night I had the honor and joy of taking part in a gathering of amazing women under the starry sky of a South Florida spring. After an afternoon of work (I try to avoid working on Saturday but sometimes it's the only day the Hubs and I can get together to plow through paperwork, and we need to keep the money coming in if we want to keep living in our house), I stopped by the market to pick up a veggie tray. My plan had been to make falafel but the mixture kept falling apart so I finally shoved the bowl back into the fridge and gave up. I'll figure out how to make that work later; I didn't have time last night. Anyway, though I'd wanted to get to the gathering in time to help set up, I still arrived plenty early enough for everything else. The Sisterhood did a beautiful ritual and enjoyed some very special time together eating the food we all brought and talking and sharing stories and poetry. Driving home, I thought about how a few years ago I would've been too nervous to attend a gathering like this one. It's terrible the lies we tell ourselves and the untruths we buy from others, falsehoods that keep us from finding true companionship, acceptance, and a deep sense of joy, spirituality, and belonging. I drove home still feeling the love of the group all around me, as one of the women there said, like a protecting and nurturing womb.

It's amazing, wonderful, and powerful what saying "yes" to life can help us accomplish.


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It's Spring in South Florida

The arrival of spring in South Florida doesn't quite mean what it does in other parts of the country. While in other places the earth is just beginning to wake up, here the cooler weather is making a departure, soon to be replaced by the swelter of pre-summer. Still, I've been feeling inspired to garden; no matter how much time I've spent down here my inner clock is still programmed for New England time.




I've only done a little bit so far, but the front gardens at our house are beginning to shape up. My goal was to bring some color and life to the front yard, and we're on our way now. I'm still learning about gardening, both by trial and error and by reading. I love Martha Stewart Living for advice in this direction and have also been reading various books and online articles.




I have plans for the back yard as well. I would love to create a magical sitting place under the mango tree, but that will need to wait until after mango season. Sitting under the tree once the mangoes begin to drop is a risky venture.




And now, I'm off to pinch off some spent flowers! Have a blessed evening!

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Trust

Trust is the word I keep trying to focus on: trust the process, trust the Great Spirit, God/Goddess who guides us. I trust my husband, my family, and a few friends, but lately I'm still overwhelmed by fear and bogged down by frustration. I keep praying and each day I hear that same voice, telling me to trust the process, keep trying to do the right thing, keep living life actively, one step at a time.

Truthfully, nothing is so bad as to be unsurmountable. I was inturrupted in the midst of writing this several days ago. In the time that has passed, I learned that a friend of several years has lung cancer and that a close friend might have a heart condition. Just a moment ago, I learned that an old high school boyfriend just finished up chemotherapy in February and is, so far, cancer free (insert much cheering and dancing). I've gained perspective over the past few days, and have been trying to focus on gratitude and positive action.

Spring Equinox festivities took place at our local UU Church last weekend, and my daughter and I joined in for a wonderful night of heartfelt celebration. Watching my little one dance around the bonfire in her butterfly wings, so free and happy, lifted my heart as if it too had wings. I was invited to join in the ritual and felt truly honored to be given the priviledge. It was an inspiring, fun night and I was glad I took my daughter and attended. I can recall so many times in the past when I haven't, for various reasons (none of them very good), gone to events such as this, then regretted being afraid to put myself out there. This is the year of "yes"! I needed to go to this for my own spirit, and I needed to go so that Sparkle Girl could experience the joy of the Equinox too.

I worked on the garden this afternoon, nestling some new flowers into fresh, rich soil. It took longer than expected (doesn't this sort of thing always take longer than we project they will?) but it felt good to dig my hands into the dirt and to finally get the front garden planted. There is still work to do around the yard, but the joy in gardening is at least partly in the creating stages, and I'm looking forward to more planning and getting dirty.

I feel better today, more positively minded and able to focus and work toward what I feel are some necessary changes. I don't know what all of the solutions will be, but at least I'm taking some productive steps.




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Tending the Garden

It looked like today was going to be a semi-unproductive day, but then the Hubs awoke from his midday couch slumber and agreed to make a trip to the garden center (insert lots of crazy cheering). An hour or so later, we were driving home with a truck full of soil, mulch, and assorted plants. My daughter and I had fun planning out the front garden, an area that has largely fallen into sad barrenness and really could use a lift. We decided upon a purple and pink flower theme, because it's a pretty combination and has a mystical sort of feel. Tomorrow will be the day of dirt; we'll be turning up the old bed, cheering up a tired section of the front yard. I'm looking forward to the smell of soil and the feel of fresh dirt under my nails.

On a sadder note, our neighbors will be moving to California soon. Standing out front this afternoon, talking with my fellow mommy of several years now, I got the update, and it wasn't the one I wanted, the one that said they'd made a terrible mistake and had decided to stay. No, this was an update filling me in on a much too soon move date and creating images in my head of tearful little girl good-byes. And tearful grown up good-byes too. I hate good-byes.

Less Fear in the New Year

I'm not a big believer in New Year's resolutions.  I feel like placing the tag "resolution" on anything pretty much renders me into a state of sure failure in the long run.  On the other hand, I'm a huge believer in New Year's goals.  While some of us (me included) ushered the spiritual new year in three or so months ago, something about the start of a fresh secular year feels magical, full of possibility and the potential for change.  It's a good time to look at the goals I began jotting down in October and begin taking positive action in the direction of birthing them to reality.  I feel a special stirring this year, an urgency to really push forward.  I'm tired of the place I'm at spiritually and even socially, and feel a deep need to shake myself out of the rut I've been mired within and start heading for new meadows. 

Last year, I made a promise to myself that I'd begin stepping out of my comfort zone a bit, trying new things that I'd been wanting to do but had still not ventured into.  I feel like I accomplished that to a certain degree, but this year I'd like to go even farther with that.  I'm not talking about anything crazy.  I don't anticipate any bungee jumping or base gliding in the coming months.  What I am talking about is, quite simply, more "yes".  More commitment to plans, goals, dreams, friends, groups in whom I've been interested, homeschooling adventures that look like fun.  Less commitment to fear and hesitancy, my two worst enemies and the saboteurs of many a wild dream.  I've realized over the years that, when making a plan, the word "yes" is oftentimes the crucial ingredient in making things happen, followed by the word "now".  How often do we tell ourselves we'll try some new activity or even engage in a favored old one, but put it off until soon months have passed and we're still in the planning and hoping stages? This year, I'd like to speak more "nows" and fewer "laters".  Later didn't take me far enough last year, and fear kept me from really diving into life. Some of the fears were of my own creation, while others were ones I allowed others to place across my shoulders, but no matter what land they rose from, they sewed a crop of failures that haunted me into December. At year's close, I found myself burdened with a pit of sadness in my soul for what could have been had I only stepped just a little bit further into semi-new territory. 

So this year is the Year of Now and The Year of Yes.  And, maybe Yes to Now?