down the rabbit hole ...

Apparently while I am distractedly exploring my rabbit hole, the real rabbits are taking advantage of the salad bar I've conveniently potted and maintained for our mutual  enjoyment. 

I paint the nasturtiums before they eat them. I suppose it is a balanced exchange?

I have had an epiphany of sorts during some recent rabbit hole spelunking. (If you know me at all, you will understand my tendency to depth-dive results in "duh" moments transformed into a-ha! insights; and for my next trick I shall be spinning straw into gold.) I am an over-thinker (not the a-ha! or duh) and the exhaustion of chasing my own tail has lead me to quietude.  I find hard, physical labor helps here (exhaustion quiets the mind) and frequent retreats into Nature do much to balance out thinking and being. What I understand now from the vantage point of total collapse and surrender (hello, Menopause!) is the lunacy of believing my task is to create deep meaning and purpose through my life.

Now, I can live my life with purpose and meaning, but it seems utterly arrogant to maintain it is my job alone to endow it all with deeper significance or importance. It occurs to me that this notion is unique and specific to human beings in general and is part of our burden having been kicked out of The Garden.  

I plant, water and feed and obsess over my nasturtiums and the rabbit comes along and eats them. Who is the dumb bunny here? This being human - by which I mean walking around believing myself to be so bloody influential and important - is exhausting work. I don't mean to downplay the responsibility we humans have for our impact upon the planet - our destructiveness is due in no small part to our stubborn clinging to the notion of ourselves as separate and outside of Nature. 

And there I go again, believing I need to say something important. This is my a-ha! - my clinging to the belief that I need to be or at the very least appear to be important to matter. I mean, everything and everyone matters. The rabbit, the nasturtium, me ... we are all equal here. But living with such gravitas, ack!  I am mindfully cultivating a lightening up, a freeing up and an opening up of heart, mind, spirit. 

I start my days outside on my patio with incense and prayers of thanks. I often linger to watch the antics of the hummingbirds at the feeder.  Thinky thoughts have their place, but they can muck up the transmission of such magic.

I meditate daily to help me listen deeply and to relax.  I gather my art supplies and I draw and paint ... clouds, trees, butterflies, birds, Moose-dog ... whatever lights me up and fills me up. 

I head to the park regularly to walk and listen and look. I still look for meaning, hoping to add to it through my attention and attentiveness.  But I am wanting to hear the stories that exist outside of my human mind: the stories of the lake and the land, the Great Heron and the trees, the prairie plains and the skies.  

 

I believe we live in a web of meaning and importance and my role is not so much to be fashioning it, but surrendering to it. 

I've missed coming to this space and sharing my experiences, sharing the magical moments that are occurring all around me. I've labored under the belief I must justify my taking up space and time by offering something meaningful or purposeful. 

Hogwash.

I am here. I am filling up my sketchbooks and filling up my eyes and my heart. Allowing it all to spill out as I fill up again.  What I have to share matters to me. It is all I can and want to do. And that is enough.  

So I may be diving down more rabbit holes or slipping off into the woods on a regular basis, but my intention is to share those moments. I mean, who am I to hoard what is being offered with such immense generosity and joy? 

 

the price of belonging ...

To belong ... or forge one's own way? That IS the question, isn't it?

As I watch my girl navigate the choppy waters of fourth grade social cliques, I realize I haven't progressed much myself in terms of understanding when the desire to belong may come at too high a price. Always lurking underneath my surface is a fear of losing my self in the gambit to be a part of something larger than my tribe of one. 

So too for my dragon girl, the desire to be a part of a group often clashes with a strongly developed sense of who she is and what she believes in.  We are moving carefully through the minefield of what to share and what to keep to ourselves.  I am trying to teach her that people have to earn the right to be trusted with her innermost truths. Her relationship with dragons (and fairies and gnomes) is one such tender area deserving of special privilege.

For me the slippery slope in belonging is too easily I lose sight of my direction and I begin to navigate by a set of values that are not my own. Or like my experience singing in a choir, surrounded by other voices I lose my voice and fall into tune with whoever sings the strongest.

Perhaps belonging isn't really the issue?  Perhaps what challenges me (and my independent girl) is the act of holding firm (and confident) to the differences that make us unique while seeking common ground with others? Not to downplay the pressure to conform which is at the heart of my girl's struggles, but in my case no one is pushing me to abandon my path for theirs.  Rather, I too easily fall into doubting myself. It may be a matter of believing another's way would be easier, mapped out and certain whereas I am totally on my own over here in the dark unknown. 

This has been quite an a-ha for me.  It's also dawning on me that perhaps the bulk of rigid constraints I find myself thrashing against are, more often than not, self inflicted and maintained. 

Yeah.  Wow. Just beginning to glimpse the full expanse of those two perspectives and the freedom they reveal.

Meanwhile, I admit feeling woefully inadequate to translate any of this into something useful for a  fourth grader.  The best I can hope to do is to help my girl strengthen her relationship with spirit and source which - like her - is still developing, still forming.  To nurture the core of who she is, modeling a reverence and valuing of her uniqueness while also emphasizing being a part of some larger group does not require her to abandon her way of moving through life. As I write this, I realize I am still speaking to myself here.

So, maybe I should take a page from Cowgirl's playbook and plug in my iPod and sing at the top of my lungs (flat and off key of course!) because it releases what pounds at the boundaries of my heart.  Walking side by side with my girl, singing our own songs, together but true to the call of our wild, dragon selves. Let that be my practice.

Perhaps my biggest a-ha is to acknowledge I don't need to have all the answers (for her or for myself)  but that staying true to oneself is to allow oneself to discover her own way ... and to get lost once in awhile because then we discover we have the ability to make our way back again. and again. 

my everywhere ...

The rain is turning over to snow and I pause in my day to consider what now?  I've been up for hours tending to those things that each day requires me to tend to  ... making the coffee, emptying the dishwasher, making breakfast, putting a load of laundry in, walking the dog, tidying up the always threatening tower of paperwork that seems to increase even with vows of "paperlessness" ... Are you jealous yet?

Not that I've made much headway as for every paper dropped into the recycling container, I've managed to drag out bulkier odds and ends - tub of paints, pile of fabrics, cards, notebooks, knitting, books - and now here I sit staring at the visible expression of my inner landscape.  I wonder if the earth feels the same way? Heavy and full with all that awaits release, expression, transformation and slightly bogged down by it all?

I realize the beast that stalks me is the notion of something BIG ... my Big Project that keeps to the shadows yet never let's me feel fully at ease.  Even as a child I think I believed there was something Big, something Important I was meant to be doing.  I now wonder if I've been stalking it? Or has it been hounding me? 

I am dabbling with this dangerous thought: what if that something Big (a.k.a. worthy, worthwhile, significant, valuable) isn't some grand beast? What if my Big is actually no one thing, but rather the many little things that make up my day?  What if my Walden Pond or Portrait of the Artist or Starry Night is no one thing, but all these tiny pieces, fleeting moments, slips of paper, images capture, doodles dashed off and scraps of fabric stitched into prayer flags all one giant Big rolled up and held together simply because they are mine? 

Dare I admit an epiphany came while grunting away on the elliptical machine in our basement, watching a recorded episode of Girls?  I guess I dare.  In the episode Hannah, who is in the prestigious Iowa Writers Workshop and tormented by the whole experience, is having dinner with her father. She wants to quit and while she wants someone to tell her it is okay to leave, she can't quite buy his advice to do what's right for you.  He then shares with her that her mother once wrote a book and was miserable in the process. But afterwards, she was able to return to doing the things she enjoyed doing. 

Which leads me to consider how I might be rather miserly with myself, parceling out odd moments to the things I love doing or worse, while so engaged looking over my shoulder thinking "Yes, but there is that beast in the corner not so patiently waiting for my attention."  

Not to say I might not one day gather my courage and head into the woods, but right now right here before me are the pieces of my life in all their wonderful chaotic beauty.  I look around me and I see much room for play and joy. I look around me and everywhere this is what I see ...

Dragons.  Dragons asking to be embraced, not slayed.  Dragons help not harm is what my girl often writes on her pictures.  So too the many bits and pieces of my passions, my interests.  They offer me opportunity to build upon happiness.  

So I am learning to see rather than focusing upon the creation of one massive opus, my way is more like japa meditation: each piece of my day, each seemingly haphazard moment of creative play  or engagement is like a prayer whispered over a single bead in a mala necklace. Slowly, mindfully I try to spread my prayers across the beads that make up my days. Eventually, if I stay committed, my life will be held together by all those prayers. And won't that be something massive and love-filled? 

 

Time for tea and dreams.  What about you?

done with fixin' (and being fixed)

I am blessed to be part of an amazing women's circle that meets monthly at my home. We have been meeting for - gosh! - over two years now? 

lots of tea and conversation happens in circle

It is fascinating to observe the cycles we each have moved through, and to tease out the common threads and themes in our lives.  Some of those areas are: finding work that is meaningful and connects us with deeper purpose than making a buck;  connection and sense of place in community; understanding and valuing the work of creating a home and caring for family (children and aging parents); finding comfort and ease in our own process of changing, aging, and deepening into the wisdom that journey provides; and crafting personal spiritual practice that is  authentic, vibrant, and vital.

This past gathering as I listened to each woman in the circle sharing her story (council style sharing: one person speaking at a time, no interruptions, no commentary from the others; just being heard and witnessed by the group), I had a mini epiphany.

Actually, the night before while brushing my teeth I received the first flash of a very dangerous thought: I'm done with self-improvement. 

Like the home renovation shows that Cowgirl and I like to watch, the process has come to feel like a constant sledge hammer to internal walls and out-dated fixtures.  Ripping out, adding in, only to tear myself apart again ... and again ... all under the guise of coming into my fullest, truest, authentic expression of self.

While scrubbing my newly straightened teeth (yes, my self transformation has been both structural and spiritual) I realized: this is it and I am there.  With all the efforting to create the life I believe I was born to live, I am overlooking the fact that I already am living my life.  Living a damned good one at that!  I am not a project to bring into some elusive state of perfection, but a living expression and extension of the Universal creative force.  It's not a matter of doing anything to bring about growth or change; actually the more I try, the more I get in the way of things.  

my dream that night: tigress is always resting right by me ... i just have to lean into her, trust and receive

As I've often heard in Yoga, it's not a doing but an undoing.  What is required isn't effort so much as releasing my death grip upon things - my infantile attempt to control - and relaxing into the life that is happening while I busy myself with hammers and saws.

In our circle, I came out with a variation upon this theme: what if we entertain the idea that there's nothing we need to fix?  What if we accept our lives, and the people in our lives, as is?  Which is not to say we don't hold aspirations, that we want to continue to learn and grow and evolve in positive ways, but we open to that growth, we open to our individual evolutionary path.

I know this sounds dangerously naive or head-in-the-sand-ish ... I don't mean to imply that there isn't some seriously shitty and harmful and dangerous stuff happening in our world that requires change, that demands we take action ... it's just the attitude of fixing, the restlessness of "not enough" and the culture of constant and continual up-grading makes me feel like a dog ever and always chasing her tail. 

I can only attend to myself.  What if the violence stops there?  What if I embrace myself and my life as is in this moment and proceed from there?  What if I cease the fixing, tinkering, adjusting and attend instead to what fills, nourishes, augments and enlivens me? As I learned in Flora Bowley's painting classes, build upon what is working rather than pouring energy into fixing what isn't working.  

The not-so-subtle message we've received for far too long is this: something is missing, you are incomplete or lacking in some way BUT here's what will fix you ...

I'm done with being fixed.  And I vow I am done trying to fix myself or anyone else for that matter. As I am, I am enough.  This life of mine is more than enough.  I want to appreciate and enjoy it and that is hard to manage if I am continually sledge-hammering it - and myself - down to the studs.

All I need is right before me ... under my nose or sleeping by my feet.  Waiting for me to wake up and pay attention ... 

bountiful harvest

Have I mentionned I love October?

Of course, it is my birthday month ... and Halloween ... but truly my favorite aspect of this season is The Great Pumpkin!

This past weekend, Cowgirl and I made our annual pilgrimage to our favorite pumpkin patch.  Here in the Midwest, pumpkin patches can be big business.  We live minutes away from the major attraction for our region, but we've only gone there once.  Instead, we head north to our old neighborhood and the family farm that we've been visiting every year since Cowgirl's arrival. 

While the bargains still abound (a trunk full of pumpkins for $10) this once well-kept secret is no longer our quiet, little family space.  Even the owner seemed weary of the crowds despite the fact business is booming and the fields already emptied of pumpkins with weeks to go until Halloween.

I just love the fullness, the jaunty spirit and robust glee of a pumpkin (or gourd), don't 
you?

 

This year feels particular rich and bountiful as I find myself engaged in many colorfully abundant, radiant and heart-filling adventures.  There is my Mandala circle  (still time to join!) that is becoming quite a playground of experiences for myself and others.  

Octopus mandala in progress ....

There is the Fearless Sisters Oracle Deck project that is such an offering of love and a testimony to the power of collaboration. 

And I am excited to share ... drum roll ...

image from Dirty-Footprints Studio

I am rather gobsmacked to be part of this group of woman, many of whom are mentors, inspirations, dear sisters and friends.  They are a rockin' group of creatives and this Spring's offering of 21 Secrets by Dirty Footprints Studio looks to be incroyable! The offering will be delivered via a downloadable ebook which means you have access forever to the workshop teachings, videos and visual materials.

Say what?!

I know ... 21 different instructors, 21 classes to dive into and explore.  What is my contribution?  You guessed it Mandala Meditation and Play. Full descriptions of each offering can be found here.

(Full disclosure: This is an affiliate program which means if you follow the links from my page or the 21 Secrets button on my sidebar and then purchase the course, I will be receiving a percentage of that sale.  Another aspect of the generosity and abundance of collaboration, cooperation and mutual inspiration.) 

Great pumpkins indeed!  Rolling in the bounty ...

 
Proof positive that dangerous thoughts, acts of daring and whispers from the heart do bring about abundant flow.  Even if it is only in pumpkins and girls.  But I love this view, don't you?
 

Dream big my friends ... and be prepared for those dreams to grow!

Mandala Moon Play

As I prepare for The Gift of Practice online offering, I am finding myself inspired to dive deeper into processes that have nourished me in the past.  One practice that I have turned to repeatedly for guidance and insight is the Mandala.

A mandala is a circular format representing the wholeness of existence.  At a basic level the circular template means there is no one area of dominance (top versus bottom) other than a central point : inner flows into outer, top flows around to bottom and back up again. Working within the shape of the mandala, our eye and hand travel around the surface, often spinning the mandala and shifting perspective as we work within it.  

According to psychologist Carl Jung, mandalas are "the psychological expression of the totality of the self." Jung posited that in working with mandalas, we tap into archetypal symbols and messages that constitute the collective unconsciousness.  Jung equated the mandala with the eye, expressing the action of Seeing merging into Consciousness.  To create a mandala is to See the play of our physical and spiritual impulses, urges, desires, struggles and triumphs.  

Given the round format of the mandala, it seems natural to equate it to the fullness of the Moon.  Thinking about the natural cycle of the moon as it transitions from empty (new) to full, and back to empty again, is a beautiful example of our own energy patterns.  Emptying myself of what no longer serves or describes me, opening to fill and receive new insights, new possibilities, transiting into an every expanding understanding of myself and life.  From that new perspective, I begin once again the process of shedding what no longer fits into this new perspective.  And so I roll!

According to different world cultures, each month's full moon offers symbolic teachings attuned to the seasons.  As part of my mandala practice, I will be meditating upon the life lessons of each month, utilizing the energy of the New Moon (new beginnings) to assist me in setting an intention for myself for that moon cycle.  What I hope to create is a monthly "snapshot" of my inner growth tied to the seasons along with a kind of monthly mindfulness practice.  

Knowing that any journey is enriched by like-minded company, I am proffering this handmade invitation to have you join me:



direct link to video through vimeo here

Mandala Moon Play will be a  once a month email with written prompts and ideas; material suggestions; an audio link to a recorded guided visualization on that month's moon energy; and a private flickr group account where we can upload our images and share through comments or discussion threads.  As I sit here brewing all this up (literally, on the spot!) I am envisioning postcards or a group journal to commemorate a seasonal or yearly cycle of mandalas. 

The first cycle - the Autumn moons - begins October 4.  Each month's email will arrive in time for the New Moon (November 3, December 2, January 1 & 30; March 1).  You can opt to join for Autumn or Winter (3 practices) for $21 or for the entire 6 months (last half of the seasonal year/6 practices) for $30.

Registration will open on September 16. I can't wait! (Well, I couldn't wait ... I already worked on this months Mandala for the Harvest or Brown Bear Moon.)  

Feeling the cooler breezes and hints of Autumn reawakening and recharging me.  Time to harvest the wisdom from the previous seasons of intense work and play. I'd love to have you join me! (registration info will be posted over on my InnerGlow Self Care page.)

what matters (and what distracts ...)

This is a post I've resisted for some time ... partly because I know words set down have the ability to shift understanding and then I feel the need to rewrite, clarify, adjust and yes, defend my perspective (which is rests on shifting sands of awareness, so not an easy thing to do!)  But it is a gray morning, I slept in and am moving slowly and certainly I am procrastinating on other projects.  But there is this pebble in my internal/emotional shoe that has irked me for far too long and I feel it is time to shake it out.  I can't seem to move forward unless I do so.

My confession: I am weary of the talk around finding one's tribe.  Okay, back-pedaling already ... it is not the experience or act of discovering others who share in, support and understand my values, interests, and ideas around purpose and meaning that fatigues me ... it is all the fanfare and smudge wand waving, look-at-our crazy quilted wild selves in  Photoshopped  dreamscaped images strewn everywhere as confirmation of belonging.  As confirmation of being vital and plugged into something essential.

I'm all for feeling a part of something larger.  I understand feeling of being outside and wanting in so very, very badly.  But what I am seeing in this celebration of tribe is a new group or layer to the experience of feeling excluded and overlooked.  My sense is that the more I go outside of myself -  for confirmation of my worth, the value of my voice, the validity of my experience - the less secure I will be in myself and my path.  

After all the dancing is over and the bonfires have turned to ash, I am still walking my path alone and on my own.  I can share parts of the journey - through wildflower fields, sandy beaches and mountain meadows  -  but in the end I am the one who chooses to continue on over slippery and rocky mountain paths, through the desert, through the mud pits and into dark forests with nothing but the next step visible before me.  

What matters then is who I trust and believe in: myself connected to a higher purpose.  All the work I do to heal myself is not so I may fit in; I work to heal myself so I may have access to my full range of gifts and potential which I then can offer in service to support the vital work of healing in our world.  

What matters at the end of the day is who I am with myself and my family; how well I love and forgive, myself first and foremost.  If I can not be in right relationship with my own self, how can I give freely, honestly, lovingly and compassionately to others?  What matters is not how my life appears on screen, in Facebook, in glossy magazines but how my life feels to me and those whose lives intersect with mine.  It is nice to have validation, but approval is not my goal.  My tribe - yes, I do believe I have a core group that understands, accepts and more importantly, challenges me to be the best expression of myself - is a space I rest in while gathering inner resources, but it is also the place where I set off from.  Finding one's tribe is an important and affirming stage, but it is not the end point.  It can be an platform for diving into the deep work, the hard, challenging, heart-rending work of attending to our planet, to our lives and to lasting change, healing and care. It can also become a trap or a distraction from what really matters: self acceptance, individual empowerment and expression.  

 These are my thoughts today.  There is a discussion buried amid these thoughts that begs to take place.  Forgiveness, understanding, belonging, purpose, inclusion, and responsibility are some of the themes.  I would love to dialogue in that space Rumi speaks of Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing ... I want to own my role in contributing to another's pain of disconnection but I also own my responsibility to tend to and heal my own woundedness.  No tribe can do that for me. The deeper work is mine alone and it is time to shake off the distractions and get on with the task.  

anatomy of a dream

All of the very best decisions I've made in my life were the result of a flash of an idea, an instantaneous knowing this is what I should do. 

Which is not to say doubt or obstacles or what the hell are you thinking? doesn't immediately follow upon the heels of inspiration.

The trick has been to speak out loud the idea, to bring it into light of some kind (ideally involving another person who then holds me accountable to my plan) and to began making movement towards the dream, all the while acknowledging but tactfully disregarding the gremlins of doubt who whisper a steady stream of reasons imploring me to cease and desist.  

Confirmation of the rightness of my plan comes with each step I take towards it.  A frisson of excitement and fuck! I AM doing this! mingle with the ever-fading gremlin's taunts. And then there comes a moment when I step fully and completely into my dream and the weight of any doubt or fear tangibly lifts off of my being and I sail forward into a technicolor Now.  

Growth and vitality and heart-full expansion are possibilities held within the seeds of such dreams.

There is nothing more technicolor brilliant than the embrace and smile of a dear friend received in the green of her world.

Leaving my job, embarking upon uncharted territory of self-employment (or radical self empowerment?) has been a disorienting experience and as things have turned out, I completely upended myself by traveling down under the next day after my departure.

It seems it was the perfect time for a new perspective upon my life.

Traveling to New Zealand (a bucket list item if ever there was one!) I brought with me wise companions whose words helped frame my experience (the following quotes are from John O'Donohue's Greenbelt festival talks):

An interesting question to ask yourself: How open are you to the mystery of your own beauty and the incredible depth that is your life? 

Behind every face there is something eternal going on and that's the magic ... no one has seen the script for anyone else's life. What are you doing to the life that you have?

You are a custodian of sacred thresholds on which you alone stand.

 

If you were to clearly explain to your heart how brief your time in the world is, what are the things your heart would make you stop doing right now?

What (or who) would you immediately embrace?

 


If you look after the hungers of your heart, then everything else comes alive around you. 

 
Every person is the holder of incredible possibilities ...

 
From Pema Chodron The Wisdom of No Escape: Navajo teach their children that every morning when the sun comes up, it's a brand new sun. It's born each morning, it lives for the duration of one day, and in the evening it passes on, never to return again. As soon as the children are old enough to understand, the adults take them out at dawn and they say, "The sun has only one day. You must live this day in a good way, so that the sun won't have wasted precious time."  Acknowledging the preciousness of each day is a good way to live, a good way to reconnect with our basic joy.

This was a week of dreams.  Reflecting upon the process of how I got from here to there, I appreciate all the signs - the excitement, the doubts, the anticipation, the questions - that remind me I am on to something big, something important, something that I believe was a possibility made manifest.  

An ancient master said, "I do not say that there is no Zen, but that there is no Zen teacher." You must trust yourself in all endeavors and have faith to put your feet in motion. (Karen Maezen Miller Hand Wash Cold)

Simply stated: I had a dream, really an inkling of a dream.  I trust in my dream and in myself.  I took a step - many steps - and found myself received by a beloved friend.  Another friend recently wrote me, marveling at that very word beloved which I had stamped onto a prayer flag for her. The one we behold, we love but what I hadn't thought about and which this other dear one pointed out is that broken down, it becomes  be loved.

Listening to my heart, following its guidance, seeking my beloved friend, I opened myself up to being loved. I fully and gratefully received that gift ... and now I dare to pass it on.

What journeys might your heart implore you to follow?  How can you take a small step forward today?

Not the end, but a new beginning (and I cannot resist ...)

So much gratitude for the generosity, the beauty, and the immense and fierce love that is Jane Cunningham.  Thank you sister for sharing with me your world and for fortifying my heart.  Not enough words to encompass all that I want to share ... but I know, you know ... deep in the stone ... you know. (to learn about Jane's upcoming and always amazing e-courses, visit her at Women's Soul Workshops.  Her Facing the Minotaur e-course has been rocking my inner archetypes  ... in a good way!)