Today in my world…

Yesterday I had a really helpful meeting about things like consistent visual branding and a plan for social media posts. It was big fun!

Last night I slept. Even bigger fun!

Today we scrambled around a bit to get ready for a massage appointment that I wasn’t really betting would happen. I’m so glad it did.

We fed the big dogs who were sad after missing out on the massage party. I took a nap. Bill fixed dinner. It was really good.

The guy who’s been winning… and winning… and winning on Jeopardy won again, which is probably nicer for him than for us, but we knew lots of the answers, too.

Then, while we were planning for tomorrow, Bill said, “Did you write a blog for today?”

You guessed it!

Which was not, in fact, in the plan…

If I were going to “blame” someone, it might be CNN. Well, not really them so much as the convicted abuser of so many U.S. gymnasts. And, apparently, the FBI and DOJ guys who were “less than effective” in handling the reporting.

I watched those brave young women holding people they should have been able to count on – WE should be able to count on – accountable for negligence and the additional abuse of other young women.

And, yes, there were tears in some of their eyes as they testified before the Senate. Warrior tears!

Because it’s Wednesday, it’s Work-in-Progress day in the land of Intentional Creativity® and I do, indeed, have a painting in progress.

The first glimpse of Luther is becoming visible. The lioness spirit animals have just begun to appear.

And I went back to the studio just now and added the teardrops that are a part of my own coding for Legend paintings such as this one.

They, too, are warrior tears!

Not warriors of violence and oppression and abuse.

Warriors for children’s safety. For peace. And justice. And equality. And civil rights. Warriors for voice and art and decency.

And, yes, they’re rolling down my cheeks, too, as I write these words.

It’s not there, yet, but before my painting is done, the Hebrew word pronounced tzcar – which means both to remember and to remind – will be there, too. A mark of power. And promise.

ps… just in case you’re wondering, this post fits the plan after all. Me, showing up, real and as close to fiercely compassionate as I can manage on any given day.

pps… there’s still time to join us for Forest of Grandmothers! If you relate to this story, it’s so worth checking out! The details are just a click away

Whispering Walls & Grandparents’ Day…

A counseling client from years gone by has reappeared, searching for some help with, well, trauma.

We started with lots of listening on my part. It’s harder to do the tea & Kleenex part via Zoom, but eventually we reached the point when I could say, with a great deal of professional confidence, that I absolutely agree with the current therapeutic movement to drop the D from PTS_, recognizing that much of the world is dealing with traumatic stress and it’s part of being human, not disordered.

Then, before our next time together, I began to hear the walls whispering. Well, metaphorically, at least. You see, our walls are literally covered in my Intentional Creativity® journey. And, I’ve been doing a whole lot of what Bill refers to as hatching, lately.

Hatching as both a coach and as a Grandmother!

You’ve probably noticed, too, that all that stress and trauma is not just a thing for professional debates. It’s a deeply personal thing for many of those we love the most.

That meant a whole lot of chatting with The Muse painting. Here’s a glimpse:

Her job was to help me recognize the wisdom I carry and to lend me some courage for sharing it!

It’s hard, though, to hang with The Muse without also pondering her partner-in-concern, The Critic.

Apparently hating her hair at the moment, The Critic is not available for a photo op. She did authorize me to remind you that she says No! No! No! about a whole lot of things because they’re new and scary, not because she doesn’t love me.

Kind of predictably, in stressful times, The Critic tends to be more emphatic than ever about not doing things we’ve never done before, or even things we have that have become more scary, lately.

Thank goodness for my Medicine Basket, which seems to whisper, too, even as a supposedly inanimate object!

Together, we all got busy with a plan for empowering.

Then, The Muse remembered that, while The Critic assuredly loves us, she was absent on all the days when my old friend and teacher, Dr. Steve Glenn, proclaimed that, We don’t rescue people from opportunities to learn… only from things beyond their capabilities.

That last bit was frequently followed by the example of two-year-olds in traffic. Them we rescue.

And the walls whispered on while I (sort of) slept until I woke with a new question in my head…

How do we, as Grandmothers and Elders and like-minded folk, juggle the muses and critics inside us?

And help our beloved littles to do the same???

These days, that probably feels even harder than usual to many of us!

And, quite possibly, more important than ever!

So, one of the things I’m doing is guiding some folks through a rather ramped-up Medicine Basket process. (Details coming soon!)

And, I’m helping with the teaching team for Forest of Grandmothers, the exciting new year-long Intentional Creativity journey about to start in the tradition of Red Madonna.

You, wise one that you are, have already figured out that if you click the pretty colored link, lots and lots of juicy details about this amazing journey will magically appear, curiosity being one of those things that belongs in all our Medicine Baskets!

Here’s the thing…

Safety is enormously important in the literal sense.

The quest for safe (read that familiar) can also hold us back from our greatest gifts if it becomes the only option we consider!

It’s a bit like dandelions! Noxious weeds? Or hopeful, nutritious gifts???

Gifts, I think. And pretty good ones for Grandparents’ Day!

ps… if you haven’t yet, please click the annoying pop-up thing and sign up for the list so you’ll have all the newest info!

pps… I have room for just two more individual clients interested in exploring some of these issues 1:1. You can email me at suesvoice@gmail.com for more information!

When we need a new way…

If you’ve spent any time at all hanging out in churches in the southern USA, or even hanging out with people who have, you are probably familiar with the pervasive notion of the way we’ve always done it!

(There are, of course, other people harboring the same notion, but I’m trying to speak from my experience. In fact, a few of you may have heard this story before but context is, as they say, everything and our current context is begging for this story!)

Once, when I was an MDiv student at Columbia Theological Seminary, a neighbor in the class ahead of me needed someone to preach for him on Sunday in a tiny church in West Georgia. I, fresh from my summer internship with 5 actual sermons under my belt, said I’d be honored.

I was also excited! And, it turned out, there was at least one question I didn’t yet know that I needed to ask.

On the morning in question I arrived, sermon manuscript in a snazzy folder along with my Bible, and robe neatly draped over my arm.

The organist met me in the parking lot and welcomed me warmly. She volunteered to introduce me and make a couple of announcements, showed me where to find the bathroom, and brought me a small cup of water. I was good to go!

With all the business stuff out of the way, I led the call to worship and then announced the first hymn. Amazing Grace. Safe and familiar.

The organist played a couple of measures for the intro and I raised my hands in the popular preacher signal for “y’all stand, please.”

They did.

Then we heard the organist magic which means “start singing”.

They didn’t.

After two more repeats of the not singing thing, the light began to come on. There was no choir. They were waiting for me to open my mouth and start singing.

Me, who heard my whole life long about my grandfathers who could sing and my grandmothers who could not. I, it was made clear to me, was more like my grandmothers!

But, what we were doing wasn’t getting us anywhere and so I did.

I sang. By myself. In front of a church full of strangers. And, after the longest two words of my life, they sang, too!

And, just in case you’re curious, I lived!

I’ve felt like that a lot this week.

If we’ve learned nothing else, I suspect a great many of us are having a new experience of just how much the way we’ve been doing things isn’t working.

A great many more of us, those our pundits might term less privileged, are undoubtedly way ahead of the curve on that!

Our planet is crying out for healing.

Women, and intelligent men, are crying out for civil rights and bodily dominion.

And the enormous damage to a huge part of the USA is going to make legal, safe access to abortion a tragic survival strategy for many, many families who cannot imagine how to raise a child in the midst of all they’ve lost.

All this in the midst of the ongoing pandemic.

If you’re still reading, my choice to leave behind generations of good girls are quiet and polite and don’t rock the boat is worth it!

That hasn’t worked for a very long time. If you haven’t read Alice Hoffman’s The Dovekeepers, now might be a good time.

Well, right after you call whomever your particular lawmaker-types might be and tell them what you need. Believe me, my gang in Congress are on it!

Honestly, I’d rather be sharing my favorite bone broth recipe with you. This has got to come first.

Now is the time!

ps… the Legendary figure in the painting-in-progress has her hand raised in a gesture of blessing. That’s for you!

pps… in Hebrew, the same word means both hand and power!

What one thing will you choose?

Well, it happened again. I overdosed on CNN.

Fires. Hurricanes. Flooding. Covid. Political infighting. You name it… no more would fit inside me.

I seriously contemplated crawling into bed and staying for a month or so. Sadly, my back is in a bad mood and I suspect we need a new mattress so that was a no go.

I gazed out at the garden, seriously in need of its seasonal change to fall, but given the back situation, plus the rain and heat and humidity, that was a no go, too.

Then one of my favorite Intentional Creativity® Coaching tools began to tap on my consciousness. Just in case you, too, are feeling overdosed on news and other sad, challenging things, this adventure might just be helpful!

It goes something like this… get a marker or three and a handy sheet of big-ish paper and a bit of quiet time.

This part is important… for steps one and two, we are not drawing an image. We are just thinking about thinking and moving the marker.

  1. Divide your paper, mentally, into approximate thirds, left to right. (No actual lines needed.) In the left third, let yourself feel into the hard things and while you’re feeling, just let your marker do what it does. Watch. (Judging, while tempting, is not part of what we’re doing right now!)
  2. Moving to the right third of your paper, and choosing a different marker if you like, let yourself feel into what better would feel like and just let your marker do what it does. Watch. (Ditto, not judging.)
  3. See what you notice.
  4. Now, in the center, sketch your version of a bridge between the hard things and what better would feel like. A path. (You can’t get this wrong!)
  5. Then, the wondering! What is one step you could actually take to begin to cross the bridge??? (Yep, just one!) Write it down. Make an image. Sit with it a bit.
  6. When it feels settled (and probably a bit obvious!) there are three more questions… Could you? Would you? When?

Here’s what happened for me…

I could add some new energy to my studio. Energy in tune with what I see in the near future…

I would. (Oh, yes!!!)

When? Well, as soon as Bill could help with wiring a couple of paintings and then help hang them. (They’re big canvases and there’s – you know – the back thing…)

And then, one more question… What could I do (while waiting for Bill’s help) to value and express what I learned?

That one was easy!

Prayer dots! (And a few Celtic spirals and swirls!) Just me and the paintings… no CNN!

As you can see, the paintings are up. A Tree Woman adventure created by three generations of Boardman women!

Another #WIP which decided, a bit ago, to rest where it is for now and help out as a background for Zoom time.

Both keeping company with The Fiercely Compassionate Artist whom you may have met on Sunday, and Bella Mama, whom we need now more than ever.

And, while all that was in the works, Our Lady of Guadalupe is very nearly finished, complete with her message for this moment.

And, Legend #4 has made huge progress. And – huge fun – when I looked at last night’s photo of her this morning, I saw her face! Already there, waiting for me to find it!!!

It has been just the journey I needed! All from a few questions, a scrap of paper, a couple of markers, and a bit of trust in my own voice.

Holler if a guide to bridges might be helpful! suesvoice@gmail.com

ps… Peter, Paul & Mary are singing away, the big dogs are napping, and I have more dots to make!

pps… Fun, new gift items in my shop…

In the image of the Divine, I create.

Yes. It’s a pretty big statement. And it generated a whole lot of Who am I to say that? when I painted it into the quilt worn by my Artist/Taliswoman painting from about 3 years ago. She was part of my Color of Woman certification process, and she insisted.

These days, she is known as The Fiercely Compassionate Artist and she’s had a lot to say lately!

This morning, I was adding the stars to the Our Lady of Guadalupe work-in-progress who’s been keeping me busy lately. Tonantzin, as she is also known, wanted lots of stars. She also wants a North Star, or Polaris.

How old, I wondered as I spattered, is Polaris? Some research was in order.

According to the founts of knowledge who live in my phone, a good guess is 70 million years!

And suddenly there were tears streaming down my cheeks as I heard the words from my Artist painting, again.

In the image of the Divine, I create.

And, as the book of Genesis proclaims… It was good!

I began to imagine about one-zillionth of what it must have felt like to create the sun and the moon and the stars, all of which are here, too, made by my hands and my brush in paint, on the canvas where I was spattering the night sky.

The North Star isn’t there yet. There are lots more individual prayer dots to make first. I wondered, though, as I went on spattering stars, about our personal North Stars in this moment. Yours and mine. Our touchstones nearest the true North of our hearts. And souls.

Personally, I’m still in Astronomy-kindergarten. (Well, maybe pre-school!) Here’s a bit more of what I learned in Wikipedia-land:

Polaris is currently moving closer to the north celestial pole. It will come closest on March 24, 2100, and then begin to move away. Another couple of thousand years later, another star will be closest to true North.

The very fact that we know how to predict such a thing blows my mind!

For this moment, though, I’m more obsessed with wondering what our personal true Norths are.

This is mine, if you’ll pardon the run-on sentence!

In the image of the Divine I create and what I choose to create is part of a better, kinder, safer world, because I have two granddaughters growing up in this world, and grandmothers need all the empowering we can get and I can share!

It feels like a really big statement to me, too.

And one I can claim with my whole heart.

Me. An ordinary grandmother with creaky joints and much, much more to learn.

Love, really, with a paintbrush. Or a quilting frame. Or a stock pot. Or a crochet hook. Or an abundant garden. Or buttons, even! Or whatever empowers you to create…

I’m so hoping you will!

For this moment, the paintings are satisfied and I have more prayer dots–more stars of hope–to make. The Forest of Grandmothers starts soon and there’s lots to do!

CLICK HERE TO LEARN MORE!

Blessings to you and yours from Phoebe and Luther and me!

ps… We really ARE stardust!

pps… Can’t wait to introduce you to the angel at the base of this painting!

A story, a #WIP, and an invitation…

On Sunday, I mentioned that Intentional Creativity® had become one of my filters and some of you asked me to say more about that. Here’s the short version…

A smart guy named Bill Harris taught me years ago about his model for human perception. It’s fascinating. (And a bit hard to write out!)

Let’s start with big arrow at the right side of the photo, above.

According to Bill, we humans have between 2 and 3 BILLION bits of information coming at us every second. And that was, technologically, several generations ago!

Most of us, on an average sort of day, can handle between 2 and 3 HUNDRED bits of information at a time. (Yep, that’s a big difference!)

So, how do we do it? How do we actually exist in the face of a barrage of stuff needing to be reacted to and sorted and filed all the time?

Well, Bill said, we use filters, aka gatekeepers! They’re the stack of blank lines left of the arrow.

These are a few of my favorites…

  • Beliefs
  • Memories
  • Language
  • Strategies

Here’s an easy example… Let’s say I started writing this in Hungarian, right here in the middle. Your language filter says, Oooooops, this does not compute! and you, wise one that you are, would filter me out and go back to whatever you were doing before. (Unless, of course, you read Hungarian which would impress the tar out of me!)

Please don’t go… the good stuff is on the way!

How does your filter decide what to let in and what to toss out?

Well, as scary as this may seem, what gets in is generally what fits our Map of Reality, which is the oval-ish space to the left of the filters.

Why do we care?

Well, when we’re under stress, our filters get less effective. For some of us, they block more things – potentially useful things – out.

For others, the filters just disappear and EVERYTHING gets in. Like, all 2 – 3 BILLION things to sort.

And, if you’ll pardon me for stating the obvious, this helps explain why the pandemic has been so incredibly hard for so many of us to process. It doesn’t fit our Map of Reality. Or didn’t.

Here’s the good – if potentially shocking – news. Our Map of Reality is ONLY A MAP! And, blessedly, it can be edited!

One of the easiest ways to start editing is to experiment with some new strategy filters.

This is what I was hinting at when I said that Intentional Creativity has become one of my filters, and it let through another big Ah-hah this week!

I’ve been painting along on Our Lady of Guadalupe, whom you may have met Sunday. I’m really loving the way she’s appearing on my canvas.

By Monday, I had reached the point for an early batch of prayer dots. CNN graciously provided me with a whole bunch of stuff to filter and pray about.

As time went on, I noticed that something about my painting felt unsettling.

Lots more dots later, I realized what it was.

I had begun the painting with some historic images to guide me as the events some folks would describe as Marian apparitions in Mexico are, well, a bit outside the Map of Reality I toted around for a lot of years now.

As the tradition portrays, I had painted her with a voluminous veil covering almost all of her hair.

She declined. Politely. Firmly.

The art work that’s coming through me at this moment in history is literally being shaped by my inner processing of the news from Afghanistan!

And, so, I implemented a strategy I learned from Shiloh Sophia McCloud, who’s at least as wise as Bill Harris, which says, simply:

Anything can be painted over!

Here’s a glimpse of where we are, now… my #WIP!

Just in case you’re interested in experimenting with some new strategies, as well, I have a suggestion!

Red Madonna Sisterhood 2021 – The Forest of Grandmothers!

Really! Paint. New strategies. Big fun. Sisterhood. Hope.

It’s like this… not only do our strategies need a bit of editing in this moment, the same is true for all those we love. And one of the best ways for us to teach that kind of healing is to learn new things and tell the stories!

ps… I am deeply honored to serve among the leaders for Forest of Grandmothers and I’m happy to answer any questions you might have about stress, filters, this journey, and whether this might be a strategy you’d like to to explore.

ps… You don’t need to be an actual Grandmother to grow in the Forest! Elders, Advocates, Teachers, Aunties, Curious Artists-in-training… Welcome!

In the presence of Our Lady of Guadalupe…

Yesterday, I was painting. Surprise! Not!!!

My first ever attempt at interpreting the legend of Our Lady of Guadalupe, at the request of my best friend since the first day of seventh grade.

There’s a learning curve… for both the artist and the theologian in me!

Somehow, when I’m in a space of stretching the edges, new things seem to sneak past my filters.

Note, dear Reader… what follows may feel a bit like a stream of consciousness adventure to you.

It does to me, too!

So, I was painting along… mostly fixing boo-boos. And as I painted, YouTube music videos were keeping me company.

Kind of the old favs list. Think summer camp.

And then, one I’ve loved for a bit without being quite sure why.

It’s the version of The Sound of Silence by the artist known as Disturbed.

It sounds a lot different from the Simon & Garfunkel original that lives in my brain.

It looks a lot different, too. A bit outside my familiar place.

In a minute, you’re going to find the magic link to read more.

I’m so hoping you will. And, after you click the magic link, there’s another magic link to the video!

But, first, a bit of context.

Once upon a time, quite a while ago, deep in the land of Ericksonian Hypnotherapy training, a new friend commented that I was, “really into power”.

I was shocked.

And then I realized that, while I’m not much into power over, I am, indeed, quite into power for!

With that…

Did you hear it?

And the people bowed and prayed to the neon god they made, and the sign flashed out its warning, in the words that it was forming. And the sign said, “The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls and tenement halls” and whispered in the sound of silence……………………………. Paul Simon

Which reminded me that, in another painting binge, I had recently watched the movie, The Help. Again.

A socially difficult tale in which people are empowered by the opportunity to speak.

And then, as I painted on, sitting in deference to my back, The Welcome Back NYC concert in Central Park.

Voices from Jennifer Hudson to Jon Batiste to L L Cool J to Barry Manilow, who brought down the house, as it were, with help from an outer band of Hurricane Henri!

But, voices, nonetheless. Voices creating community in a world desperate for it. A world where it’s just possible that the words of the prophets on the subway walls – which are basically art of a powerful, intentional sort – may be more important for our future than those of the neon gods.

Only we can choose.

ps… I suspect Our Lady of Guadalupe would agree!

pps… it’s been almost exactly 14 years since my first Grandparents Day and I’m celebrating! So are the elves, with an automatic 25% off orders of original paintings and art prints over $100!!! Check it out…

Sue Boardman, Certified Intentional Creativity®
Color of Woman Teacher & Coach