Author: sue boardman

Medicine Baskets were high on the list of things we didn’t cover in nursing school or seminary!

In all fairness, we were busy with washing our hands and starting IV’s and things like Hebrew grammar and the Book of Order. Anyone who knows me will swear that I’m still top of the class in hand washing and I didn’t actually flunk Hebrew, though there was a time when that seemed quite likely.

These days, I have an actual Medicine Basket – of the legendary wise woman sort – and several more which insist on prime real estate in my paintings. There’s also a new one with wheels in the waiting-to-be-transformed line, but that’s a story for a different day.

In this moment, the Medicine Basket between my ears seems to be in charge! Debates. Quotes. And what feels like about a zillion questions! The owl seems to have nested in the basket which is somehow comforting… and I’ll take all of that I can get these days!

You see, there’s a whole lot of stuff hatching in me! And the owl has apparently decided to take over the wisdom card project that goes along with the two new books.

For the last couple days, my job has been peacekeeper! You see, the owl isn’t the only opinionated winged being involved. My recent phoenix has insisted on helping, too! You may remember her…

For a bit, it felt like a battle between wisdom and perseverance. Finally, though, after something that could very nearly be labeled a couple’s coaching session, we are at peace, they and I. There is, indeed, a whole lot of chaos in our world and rising beats wallowing, every time!

There’s also a whole lot of need for collected wisdom, set free in this world. Set free to become new wise things… now!

Blessedly, the grand-teens were here for a bit and they ask really good questions… the kind that help me be more clear! And leave me wondering what a mythic owl-phoenix offspring would look like! (That one’s likely to take some dreaming! In fact, that one’s likely to find its way into at least one of the books!)

For now, though, one of the most precious medicines in my basket. (And, perhaps, the first conscious one!)

I learned it this way, from my old teacher-friend, Steve Glenn…

If a teenaged child has 5 adults who will listen to them, take them seriously, and not shame or blame them for their questions, that child is practically immune from ever attempting suicide.

And a bit of a re-frame for this moment, from the me who has experienced the world changing over the 40 years since I met Steve…

With fiercely compassionate, conscious intention, may WE be one of those 5 adults for as many of our Littles as possible… listening to them, taking them seriously, and not shaming or blaming them for their questions… starting this moment. Now.

ps… in observance of these holy days, a quote from another of the wise voices in my Medicine Basket:

I do not at all understand the mystery of grace – only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us.

– Anne Lamott

So, as you might have heard, I have pretty much all of The West Wing and Madam Secretary memorized. (It’s that whole auditory/digital processing thing!) Every now and then, though, even I need a bit of a break.

Now is one of those times. Thus, New Amsterdam.

Time out for a bit of context. (Yep! A Filters thing!!!)

The third season of New Amsterdam picks up, just about 4 years ago, with an episode called The New Normal (3.1). Plane crashes. Covid. Unemployment. Blood shortages. And, no… they didn’t overplay it.

The punchline, if you will, was toward the end, when hospital administrators across New York had the radical notion that working together could help with life-threatening shortages. Swapping in-stock meds for desperately needed blood. Vent tubing for gloves. And it all began with a question… How can I help?

And, yes… the nurse who still lurks inside me had chills and tears, pretty much the whole time I watched.

The big ah-hah for me, though, was realizing how much different my reaction was in this moment. I’d seen it before. Probably 3 or 4 times. This time, though, what made it through my filters was different. Bigger. More urgent.

And, yes… it has a whole lot to do with the news!

Let’s fast-forward, now, to Why Not Yesterday? (3.6). A whole bunch of people dealing with systemic racism and sexism. With pay equity. And opportunities.

And, in the background, music.

I had to look it up. Barry Mann & Cynthia Weil’s song, sung by – among others – Mama Cass Elliot, in 1970.

A new world comin’

And you, dear heart, have probably guessed why the tune is still swimming in my head.

The world did get better for some of us since those days. Bits of better, here and there. And, not nearly enough!

Then came the glue, from another channel, that holds all this together. Another re-run!

Stephen Colbert and Sen. Cory Booker, from Monday night.

Sense. Hope. Determination. (And no blood pressure spikes!)

Now, I have no idea whether Stephen and Cory know the song, A New World Coming. (I’m really kind of hoping they do!)

I do know, though, that those old songs I learned around the campfire matter, still, in my heart. And it seems to me that we need as many of us singing this one as we can get in this moment. It’s probably going to work a whole lot better for Mama Cass to lead the sing-a-long than it would for me to try it, so here you go…

And, yes… the best thing to do in a plague of whatever kind is to help! Often that starts with helping ourselves!!! So… what’s one thing – one easy, accessible, meaningful thing – you could do for you in the next 24 hours??? Seriously!

Here’s mine… a bowl of soup for dinner! Home concocted, if not exactly homemade from the beginning. (I had help with the broth!) Added herbs and extra veg. My favorite bowl. Healthy, comforting, and delicious. And, tomorrow, another of those easy, accessible, meaningful things. Because I can. And it helps me help.

It’s going to take a whole bunch of us!!! For now…

ps… stay tuned! Angel painting and Filters details coming soon! Your medicine basket will be excited!!!

There are “Hands Off” protests going on all over the US, today, including the one right here in my chair! I’m hoping you’ll pardon just a wee bit of over-sharing…

My Fiercely Compassionate Rebel Grandmother’s heart is at the protests. The rest of me is in the midst of a hypermobility flare and a few other inconvenient things, as yet un-labeled.

Which leads me to one of my most precious questions… What CAN I do???

Well, I can speak. I can write. I can open doors to filter-shifts. I can help map the way from here to the place where we are called. And, I can make art!

And, it seems we need a word about art in this moment. You see, my laptop isn’t uploading new photos in WordPress just now. So, the photo at the top is as close as I can get, imagery-wise, to what I meant to share. And I’m grateful, gentle reader, for your understanding!

The “sign” I’ve been working on will no doubt be just as relevant and urgent when I get to show it to you! And, it’s already laid claim to a spot on the front porch, for as long as it takes.

You see, the issues being placed front and center today… some of them are very personal for me. Threats to Social Security, for sure. Medial care. Voting rights. And massive, intentional danger to public education. There’s more, though.

I have assisted in abortion health care.

I have helped to deliver infants by cesarean section for young teen moms… one of them a 13 year old with developmental challenges, forced to carry the child of her mother’s partner, “because they were good Christians.” When I told that child that her baby was a girl, she sobbed, “How will I keep her safe?”

Back then, when my son was 5 or 6, I had never dreamed of becoming a grandmother. And I had certainly never dreamed of being a grandmother in the context of this moment.

One of my grands is touring colleges. And I’m terrified.

Both of my grands were raised with the notion that they have choice and voice. And that’s the way they’ve always done it!

And so, I painted on. I emailed members of Congress. I made a purchase from a company that believes people matter. All people. And one that sells safer, more natural paint.

And I worked on my latest fairy tale. One of the ones where all the people matter! There’s a scrappy, liberated, not remotely matchy-matchy quilt painting that goes with the story and I’ll share that, too. Soon!

Elsie, my story-Gramma who was also my quilt-Gramma, has loaned me her voice. Her sense of drama. Her awareness of some of the old ways. Writing these stories for a world I suspect she’d be plenty pissed about with so much of her spirit within me is an experience I never imagined. An experience I’m beyond grateful for.

Elsie was 30 years old when she got the right to vote. Five of her six children were male. Four of them served in the military. The fifth stayed home to help on the farm, after Grampa Frank passed.

What I remember most is her determination. And, she and I would no doubt have some details to sort in this day and age. I’m pretty sure, though, that she’s not at all surprised that Joan of Arc showed up in my painting just now!

Me, either!!!

And, as far as I can tell, the image at the top holds Joan’s energy and passion, too!

So, a bit more painting – more, hoping and doing what I CAN. Hoping the power holds out during the tornado warnings. And, of course, prayer dots!

The lightning is picking up, so I’m going to call this good for just now. Please take good care of you and yours.

With much love,

It’s 2:30 on Wednesday afternoon. (EDT) and it’s one of those days that is turning out to need all the ME’s!

Blessedly, the ME who is in charge of making tea woke up first. Followed quickly by the ME with the emphatic reminder that turning the house alarm off before letting the plumber in was a decidedly useful plan!

Then another ME chimed in, waving my phone in my face and insisting that I check the notes I typed into texts while I was listening to the paintings whisper useful things in the middle of the night. That, of course, set paint ME to jumping up and down with a new idea for the quilt. (Yep… I’m painting a quilt!)

Filters Me was next up. Very exciting phone call. Big plans on the calendar. Can’t share just yet, but it’s coming soon!

Hearth-tender ME was, a bit belatedly, next. #wipwednesday post for Facebook. That was going well until the gremlins ate my first post and I needed to start over. Aaarrrgh!!! And several deep breaths…

By noon, it was time for 15-minute ME to take charge. Red pen. Designated sketch book. Really helpful revisions to the Fairy-Tale-In-Progress.

And, then, a poet ME from the way-back days.

Standing on the Edge

I am standing on the edge.
Toes curled under.
Hanging on.
Like climbing too high on a ladder.
Trying to decide if I’m terrified.
Or excited.
Knowing that, in my body, the experience is the same.
Knowing that whoever decided we could only feel one feeling at a time was wrong!
Knowing that this is neither good news, nor bad.
The wise old man on the mountain was right.
Trying to glimpse the beyond which is past the edge.
I like beyond.
I like creating.
Abracadabra!
For I will make something of the word.
Though I suspect I’ll make more prayer dots, first!
I am standing at the edge.
Hoping I’m excited!

(slb 10/27/16, from Grandmothers Are In Charge of Hope, edited a bit!)

And, yes… I watched a whole lot of news last night!

Also, a bit of The West Wing. Matt Santos, candidate for President of The United States, speaking in an African American Church, after a tragic shooting. And I’m going to go way out on a limb and guess I’m not the only ME who’s been inspired by this…

He was right. We are tired. And more compassion is required of us. And, slowly, too slowly, things will get better.

For now, though, I’m sticking with excited. And, determined!

Stay tuned…

ps… the photo at the top is from the reverse of my #Celebratrix painting. The more traditional “front” side has a big appearance to make tonight. She wanted you to see this view! ME, too!

pps… let’s talk about HOPE! Like the kind of hope your ME is holding! 45 min. My gift. We’ll blow a bit of dust out of your Medicine Basket and claim the next right thing on your path to the place where Hope lives for you! You show up, real you, with a cuppa, and something to write on and with. Red Thread, if it’s handy. I’ll bring the best stuff I know. Just click here and the calendar elves will hook you up.

The liturgical calendar probably won’t tell you this, but Saturday saw a record set for the highest pollen count in Atlanta in 35 years! I have no trouble believing this is true. And it’s a good thing Kleenex are on sale!

Dogwoods, azaleas, crepe myrtles, forsythia… they’re all doing their thing to contribute to the pollen! Also dandelions and violets! Even in the front yard!!! And, despite all my training in “appropriate” suburban landscaping, I’m totally okay with all that! Even the asparagus is starting to appear!

There’s more excitement, too. We seem to have a pair of hawks nesting in the big pine tree. No sign of wee ones, yet, but the adults are swooping past the windows in an assertive way, probably claiming their nursery.

All this while dear friends in Canada and Vermont are shoveling snow and the Carolinas are praying for rain.

It all feels quite metaphorical to me, just now. You see, that liturgical calendar I mentioned is also a reminder that there will be more news to come, and it’s going to get harder before it gets better. And I’ll own that I’m looking for comfort. For spiritual sustenance.

Perhaps that’s why the Fairy Tales are flowing! I’ve written three of them this week and I’m really excited! I’m writing in my Story-Gramma voice and it feels utterly natural. It also feels important, for the news is, indeed, going to get harder for many, many of us before it gets better.

And, yes… I’d want to change that if I could. Instead, I’m doing my absolute best to fill junior-size medicine baskets with perceptions and strategies for the journeys ahead.

I’m also making prayer dots. With brushes. With fingertips. Even with glue and buttons! My Guardian Angel painting is adamant. She seems to have claimed the task of teaching us to claim and hold hope. And, yes… I’ll gladly take the bonus truth that all those dots are, literally, neurologically soothing!

There’s also a whole lot of purple going on. For many of us, purple is the color for the seasons of Lent and Advent. It’s also the color of the crown chakra, at the top of the head, representing spirituality, enlightenment and connection to the divine. (The chakra part is more recent learning for me!)

And, I “happen to have” appropriately garbed paintings to share! The one you glimpsed at the top is in charge of choice, voice, and sovereignty.

The one just below is my #workinprogress… even though it’s not Wednesday! On your right is my Guardian Angel. (We’re still sorting the lipstick!) And, on your left, next generations of Guardian Angels-in-training!

I’d love to know what they’re whispering to you!

ps… I just went to re-fill my tea mug and glimpsed a pair of cardinals playing in a rose bush!!! If you could use a sense of ancestors checking in, I’ll gladly share!

pps… you’re invited! Visit FierceArtWithHeart. There’s a big sale in progress and lots of great gifts! (Including the original painting, below… “What the World Needs Now!” ) If you’re new around here and haven’t joined this blog mailing list, join there and save an additional 10% on your purchase!!!

Have you ever noticed that you have lots of good ideas for other people, but often feel like you’re staring at an empty medicine basket for yourself? Me, too!

I suspect that’s because we tend to get all caught up in the brain chemistry of our emotions when we need some help – which can be no fun – and all those tools we’ve worked so hard to collect get overlooked. And, yes… I’ve been having an experience of this conundrum!

One of my roles in the Intentional Creativity® universe is to offer a writing prompt to my Red Madonna sisters each Monday. It’s tradition!!! You know… a new poetic form to play with. A particular inquiry. Once, practice writing like Dr. Seuss! And, I love doing it.

Sometimes, I need to do it!!! This was one of those weeks. And, it took a bit of hatching time. The prompt was to write a letter – a question, really – to an ancestor, actual or chosen. One who’s walked on.

Here’s where the amazing brain stuff comes in… no typing! Hand written. The question, with our dominant hand. Then, after whatever waiting was needed, the answer we received with our non-dominant hand. Really! And, yes – it’s a right brain/left brain kind of thing. And, yes – almost everybody says they won’t be able to read the response written with their “other” hand! The vast majority of us, however, will be able to read it, partially because we have to access more of our consciousness to write with our non-dominant hand. And, no… I’m not entirely sure how this works for ambidextrous folks except to say usual hand and less usual hand!

Anyway… I decided to receive my own magic! You see, my Story-Gramma, Elsie, volunteered to help me with the Fairy Tales I’m writing! In fact, she loaned me her name for the Story-Gramma in the book. The narrator, if you will, who tells the stories. And, just the other day, the first fairy tale appeared!!!

For now, though… back to right and left! (Not that right and left!!!)

I got out my journal and my favorite red pen and I asked Elsie about a particular choice she made in her own journey. A choice that was similar to one I found myself making as a young woman. And I asked her why she chose what she did.

Crickets! As in, no perceived reply! At least not until I slept on it. (I think she made a deal with the paintings to hold out and make me sit with it a bit!) And, then, it was time to pick the red pen up with my left hand and receive!

Let’s say that the crying adds to the adventure of the writing! And, yes, the picture at the top is a bit of what I received. It feels like really, really good medicine for me in this moment!

There’s bit you can’t quite see in the photo that I just have to share…

For now, keep being Love and writing those new stories for today’s Littles! It’s a long road, dear heart, and a whole lot of us are rejoicing that you’re on it!

And, yes… the next story is hatching, even now!

So, what magic of yours might need a bit of dust blown off it??? I’m serious!

Or what new magic might you experiment with? None of us can do it all, but – as the old saying goes – all of us can do something! If I were Joan Baez, I’d be playing a guitar and singing on a street corner downtown. You know… all the peace & justice classics. Woodstock, even!

I’d probably be giving books away, too. (Don’t mention that bit to the Legendary Husband who might have minor book hoarding tendencies!)

I’m really not much of a singer, though, and standing on the street corner is often a bit optimistic, orthopedically, these days, so here’s what I can do… gladly!

You get the calendar elves to hook you up with 45 minutes. My gift. I’ll witness you claiming that place where you feel called to be and, together, we’ll hatch up a next right step between here and there. This IS my magic!!! And, if you take me up on the offer between now and the end of the month (ie March 31 at 11:59pm EDT) you’ll be entered to win a free copy of my kids’ book, A Creation Poem… Just click here to do the calendar thing!

www.fierceartwithheart.com

Our kids are coming to visit!!! Like, soon! This news was a wonder-full, welcome surprise. And, it created some questions! Like, now that we’ve re-arranged the house again, and given most of the rooms new jobs, where will everybody sleep?

I’m not worried about it, mind you. We’re flexible, capable people who love each other. (Well, some of us are way more flexible than others, but that’s an orthopedic comment, not a practical one.)

So, last night, while I thought I was making progress on my #Quickening painting, I was – apparently – also pondering more practical things, too.

And, in the midst of the painting and pondering, a conversation with a dear friend, paint sister, and fellow grandmother musing on big questions. (It feels like there are lots of those, these days!)

Blessedly, the Dream paintings decided to get in the game! You know… the ones that hang on the wall near the bed and whisper wise things in the night!

Last night began with a vision from the way-back machine.

My Dave must have been late pre-school/early Kindergarten at the time. The house we lived in – the first one I ever owned – had literally been built on the back lot at my high school by a bunch of sports coaches and athletes as a learning/money-making project, then moved down the road a bit and sold. They planned to do one every year.

World War II intervened, though, and mine was the only one that ever got done.

It was a sturdy little house. The original owners lived there for decades. Then, they needed to sell it and decided it needed a bit of “fluffing” to be ready. And someone decided carpet was a good idea for the kitchen. Clearly they did not live with a small child!

So, one morning while I was brushing my teeth, I heard a funny noise in the kitchen and went investigating. There was my intrepid child, trying to pour orange juice from a practically full gallon jug into a plastic cup he’d placed on the floor, as he couldn’t reach the counters. And, yes… there was approximately a teaspoon of juice in the cup and the rest on the very squishy floor!

Blessedly, I’d already spent enough time hanging out with my Developing Capable People buddy, Steve Glenn, to swallow the temptation to yell, and set about – you know – stomping on towels to get the juice out of the carpet. Dave thought that part was big fun!

And, here’s the thing. He made a huge, inconvenient mess, for sure. But, he was reaching… trying to help himself and that’s worth celebrating!

Now you, dear soul, may well be wondering why the walls were whispering this story just now, and I have a pretty good idea! You see, there’s quite a bit of reaching going on in me.

I’m writing. A lot! And painting. A lot! And creating a deck of wisdom cards. And getting ready to teach my heart and soul – the biggest stuff I know – even more than I’ve done before. And, while much of this is happening in community, it’s coming from me, reaching!

Which brings us to our #inquiry, if you will. Our question for this moment…

What are YOU reaching for???

Really!!! I’d love to hear! You can leave a comment, below, or email me at suesvoice@gmail.com

And, I’d love to help you claim the next thing on your path! 45 minutes. My gift. You show up ready to reach a bit, with a cuppa, and something to write on & with. A bit of Red Thread if it’s handy. We can get a lot done, even with all the OJ still in the jug! Just click here and the calendar elves will be delighted to hook you up!

ps… Daphne wants you to know that a copy of A Creation Poem… would make a great gift for the Littles you love, in this season of blossoming and holy days! She wants them ALL to know they belong! And, she’s got a special offer! Buy 2 copies, and get a third for free, shipped to the same address. Offer expires Tuesday Mar 25 at 11:59pm EDT and is strictly limited to quantity in stock, so hurry! Just click here! No special code needed… just put 3 books in your cart, along with whatever other goodies are calling your name. The shop elves will do the math!

pps… there’s an old story about a monk named Brother Lawrence who said cleaning floors is praying, too!