Last night I dreamed about climbing trees. My hip, it should be pointed out, was not in favor of the adventure!
There was a kid named Olaf who lived in the house behind us in Illinois and had an awesome weeping willow in his yard. I was about 10 at the time and I suspect it’s the last time I did the literal climbing thing.
And, no, I wasn’t any good at climbing ropes in gym class either!
Last night’s dream trees, however, weren’t a huge surprise. You see, I’d spent most of the day climbing about in the land of online family trees which feel, to me, more like Banyan trees than the more usual kind with one trunk!
Armed with a bunch of handwritten stuff from my sister, who seems to have inherited the genealogy fetish in our family, my hip and I spent hours and hours hunting the folks my cousin Chris always referred to as the old farts.
Wow, are there a bunch! (And a bunch more work to do!!!)
I’ve also been pondering trees to put in my new Etsy shop. At the moment it’s mostly mythical divine feminine type original paintings. (Getting it to exist has involved at least as huge a learning curve as the genealogy site!)
My brilliant and talented print guy is now on board, though, and I’ll be adding more and more options this week. Including some abstract pieces that no longer exist in this dimension!
This morning brought a surprise, though, as mornings often do. My dear friend, Peggy Meador, has passed on to the place where pain and suffering are no more.
If you’ve been reading along a while, you already know Peggy, even though you probably don’t realize it. Peggy was the real life elder who called me on the phone one dark and stormy night and literally changed my life.
Peggy was the one who opened the door to my learning that I wanted to be “one of those five people” for as many kids as I could, and teach others to do that, too. (Boardman, Grandmothers Are In Charge Of Hope, pg. 1)
I’ve been telling that story a lot lately. With all the pandemic news and the racial unrest and the political lunacy, it feels like we need more of those five people than, perhaps, any time since I first learned the story.
That story is about to take a new form in my world.
My SoulWork project, SuperPower SelfPortraits (or SP2, for short!) is about to be available remotely, by video. (Stay tuned!!!)
Bringing this passion to life in a form that can be shared involves quite the learning curve for me. I suspect my ancestors felt something similar when they boarded the Mayflower. Or, many generations later, a much less famous boat bound for the USA from Sweden.
And those are just the stories I know! There are more to learn and some of the ones calling my name come from France and Italy. In fact, I’m about to “go” to France, with my dear friend Laura, on a virtual pilgrimage having to do with stories and art.
Which feels a bit like this lady you’ve seen before…
Her official name is What the World Needs Now, but I realized yesterday, as I wandered through centuries of family, with her standing watch nearby, that she may also be what geneticists refer to as the mitochondrial Eve, my grandmother. And yours. Which, when you get right down to it, may be exactly what the world needs now!
ps… Blessings to all those dealing with school in whatever way!
Sue, I am doing Anthropas right now. Interesting that in Moon 8 I had a vision of having banyan roots coming out my arms!!! It still might happen! I love banyan trees…have seen them in Australia!
Very cool! I’m doing Anthropas, too, in the sense that I would be very behind if we believed in that! My Tree of Life painting before I started COW18 wanted to be a banyan tree, too. I loved them when I lived in Florida. Especially the part of them being communities. Hugs, sister!!!
Sorry for your loss of Peggy – but how wonderful to honor what she helped you embrace.
Love to you and studio Angels, Cherie
Thank you, my friend. Love to you!