abiding ... (finally, friday)

Patience is not my default setting. Yet everything seems to be conspiring to force me to practice patience (which means bouts of raving impatience followed by the exhaustion of temporary and grudging surrender.) I don't believe there is some script I am following, so much as life offers me the opportunity to create meaning out of otherwise random and indifferent occurrences. I am in charge of choosing which pieces I will use for this jigsaw puzzle. Case-in-point, observing a baby grackle bird being fed by its mother reminded me I too must remember to receive nourishment and more importantly relax my hustle to bring it to me.  Beautiful message, right? 

Well, a day or two later, Cowgirl came to tell me a baby grackle was caught in a bush. Or it was hanging dead in a bush, she was a little uncertain and I immediately told her to leave it alone. My experience has been when I rush in to "help" I often bring about the very outcome I am hoping to avoid. Now, it did pass through my mind "What the hell message is that about trust and support?" But quickly I let it drop. I mean, it may not be the same baby bird (but probably is) and it might not be dead but temporary stuck. Which is fitting for how I have felt these past few months (stuck, not hanging dead although the image of the hanged man in the tarot deck has been with me a lot lately.)

So I let all notions of ill-omens drop and continued through my day.  The next day I went out and looked for signs of the baby bird and except for a little poo, there was nothing there. So either he was stuck, but freed himself (the version of the story I'm going with) or an animal in the night cleaned up the crime scene which has a poetic message of the circularity of life in there somewhere.

Where am I going with all of this? Honestly, I'm not sure why this story bubbled up today. I admit being in a space where there is much on my mind, but lacking the words or the desire or need to excavate any meaning. Which is perhaps the point: sometimes there is no message, no meaning. Sometimes you have a leaky dishwasher that floods under the cabinets and floors and you don't realize this until the mold starts to grow and then you discover a mighty black mold situation on your hands (and in your kitchen) and now you dance around a giant hepa-filter fan that blasts the pictures off of the walls never mind the sound and the floors get ripped up and the cabinets emptied and no dishwasher so drying dishes stacked over the remaining counter top space that isn't cluttered by the contents of the cabinets now homeless and it is such a giant mess that forces you to either descend into full depression or laugh your ass off at the way life is stranger than fiction and no one could write this without it sounding hokey but it is all true and it IS my life. Right now. 

So I give up and relax into this cluttered flow. I stop trying to make sense of my life right now and instead decide to start living it again. Baking pies (in disaster kitchen no less)

and sewing Owl pillows (because owls started the whole chain of events in my reconstructed history)

 and joining Cowgirl at the neighborhood pool (oh yes, school got out a week ago? Isn't that crazy?) 

and I even accepted that our kitchen will probably stay this way until sometime in August as that is the earliest date a contractor can fit us in.

Accept. Surrender. Relax into what is ...

And then marvel when out of the blue (honest truth) a contractor stops at our house because he was the one who had installed all the wood molding and shelving and he always liked our house and thought of it as unique and now is looking to build his own home and was wondering who did the design or if we designed it ourselves and hey,he saw us home and he had a moment to stop ...

And now he may be the one to help us repair our kitchen and we are to contact him in week and he even sees a way to repair the cabinets without having to rip everything out. So we have a contractor and he has our spare set of home plans.  

Circularity of life ... 

Trusting and waiting for whatever is forming out there to make its way here while I abide in my own slow simmering so I am ready to meet it. Which is to say, meet Life.

Meanwhile ... I keep my eyes, ears, and heart open for the next piece I wish to add to this puzzle of mine.

simply close the door (thoughts on boundaries + giveaway!)

I was about thirty when I first learned about the concept of personal boundaries.  It was a pretty pivotal moment, I suppose because I didn't have any real boundaries.

As my therapist explained, I was like a house with many doors and windows.  When someone has healthy boundaries, they determine who or what is allowed to enter the house; they control the opening of doors and windows.  In my case, my "house" self had no glass in the windows and the doorknob were on the outside!

The renovation of my house - of me! - is a continual and on-going process.  Just as I installed proper doors and deadbolts with my family of birth, I became a mother.  This new terrain is challenging. I want the best for my girl and I know all-too-well the ease - and the danger -  of projecting my tendencies, my desires, my fears upon her.  She is her own person but balancing the task of guiding, providing, and safe-guarding with an understanding of when it is necessary to let go, allow, release is a tricky thing.  

I share what I love with her, not in the hopes of grafting her life upon mine, but with the intention of her crafting a life lived with passion, curiosity, sense of power and creative possibility.  

we created a water wheel in celebration of Beltane; our wheel was made from chalk, crystals, & stones

we added birdseed, cornmeal, lavender and our prayers and songs to activate the wheel

Sometimes I am not thrilled with her choices: Nintendo DS (I don't even know what the DS stands for), Pokemon cards, Beyblades, Ninjago ( I sense a trend here with pseudo-Japanimation) but as a kid I too binged on some junk entertainment before discovering real nourishment.

THIS thrills me: her enduring passion for dragons (and new love of riddles)

Just as I impose commonsense limits upon sweets (one sweet a-day) while offering healthy options, my hope is she will understand it is in her power to make good choices.  

At her school, they introduced a concept of bucket-filling, and bucket-dipping.  A good friend is someone who fills your bucket through words, gestures, and actions.  A bucket-dipper is someone who is hurtful, rude or disrespectful.  The worst thing you can be, according to Cowgirl, is a bucket-dipper.  But I've tried to point out to her that if someone is dipping in her bucket, she has the right and the responsibility to cover her bucket. 

Or in my case, to simply shut the door.  

There is so much more to learn and share.  I am excited to be able to offer 2 spots in Pixie Campbell's upcoming online offering Boundaries Book Camp with Mountain Lion.  I can think of no better way to define, clarify, understand and strengthen boundaries.  This  two-week intensive with daily prompts, media and interactions is 

 about building stronger communities, relationships and partnerships through the superheroic gesture of protecting ourselves from others’ psychic debris, and protecting others from ours. Clarity of awareness and loving language emphasized.

I will be there, gathering ideas and tools to pass on to my girl-cub ...

tools for our ceremony, including this song

I will be drawing 2 names from comments on this post and on the accompanying facebook thread.  (If neither work for you, please email me lishofmann(at)novia(dot)net and I will enter you into the drawing.)  I will announce the winners next Friday (May 16) so be sure to leave you name before then! Make sure I have a way to contact you.

Boot camp begins May 19.  Get ready to step fully into your power, your voice.

grounding

feet

eyes

(and ears, 

and nose, 

and tongue, 

and skin) 

hands

heart

this is how i 

honor my 

self

this is how i

ground my

self

this is how i

show up

for my

life

every

day

every day.

 
 

#118/365 ... my drawing a day practice ... still wet with grass stains

 

Curiosity, Connection, & Celebration are my beacons. Practice - creative, spiritual, mindfulness & self care - nurtures those aspects of my being. I fill myself up so in turn, I can offer those gifts back to the world. It is a lovely flow! 

What I practice matters little.  It is the Why - the intention - that has me showing up every.day.no.matter.how.shitty.or.how.wonderful.it.feels. 

 

When I commit to my practice, I am committing to my life. to my life. I am casting my vote for love ...  joy ... faith ... belief ... trust. 

I am digging into the marrow, the juice of practice and already I can feel the charge opening me up. Good things coming ... colorful, messy, wild things.  Deep, soul-rich, finally YES! things.  The rumpus begins May 5 and I'm digging out my party shoes. (Got my blue toes ready, as you may have seen)

'Nuf said.  If you are wanting more, I'd love to have you join me here.  

my little chip ... (finally, friday)

... and yes, I know it is Saturday!  Staying out of time as best I can! 

Mini-me, you complete me ... just the two of us ... 

We each have own rattle now ... this one needs to dry and then I can unstuff it, add another row of stitching and fill with sound. I am learning the songs of the mothers, the songs of the goddess and passing them onto Cowgirl.  Grateful for her enthusiasm, her care and tender keeping of the teachings.