Heresy… ’tis the season!

In a bit, I’m headed off to a training in something known as IMM. I’ve had this same adventure before. Now – at this moment – it feels even more relevant.

It has to do with letting go of beliefs that hold us back from the things that matter most. With getting free, if you will, of lots of old stuff that more or less got installed in us like computer bugs in our bodies at times when we didn’t know we could choose our beliefs.

If you’ve been reading along for a bit, you may have noticed that I like having choices.

So, my choice for this moment…

It’s about to be the holiday weekend known in the USA as Thanksgiving. (Also as the excuse for Black Friday buying mania.)

Many, many of us are choosing what to do with the culturally growing realization that the fairy tale version of the first Thanksgiving we learned in school was, to say the least, a rather limited viewpoint.

And, if you’re like me, that feels like a call for some more learning.

And, if you’re like me, you have people you love.

One of those people in my world is the Legendary Husband who LOVES turkey!

So, we’re doing the thankful part and the bird part of the holiday.

Here comes the heresy part…

We’re not doing it the way we’ve always done it!

In fact, we’re starting with a whole different question. (Yep… you can probably guess!)

What are we trying to accomplish?

The answer, at our house, is some time to hang out together. A really good bird. Bones for broth. And – this one is important around here – not messing with Bill’s blood sugar!

All while keeping up with other things that matter and looking forward to what I am now calling the likelihood of Christmas with our kids.

So… my heretical recipe for dry brining the bird. And my confidence that my Grandmother is NOT going to disown me, especially not at this point in her adventure, for doing it differently. Dry brined turkey is really, really good and she’d probably have done it this way if she’d known. Wink! Wink!

And, for what it’s worth, a virtual bit of red ink for you. A reminder that all the stories we’ve learned – many, many of them before we reached the age of abstract thought – have been edited through the years and it’s more than okay if we edit for ourselves.

So celebrate if you choose. Or remember. And, maybe, ask some new questions…

In addition to What are we thankful for? how about What might we do to share our thanks and blessings with others? And, What other stories need telling?

And, yes, we want to stay age appropriate for the littles. No good comes of terrifying them!

Just making space for more stories. And the wonder of a world full of stories to learn!

Now for the bird…

Ingredient Notes: Buy the best you can get. It takes some hunting. Local farmers. Whole Foods. Dean & DeLuca, Zingermans, White Oak Pastures. This year, ours is a Heritage breed bird, pasture raised by my local, sustainable farmer friends at Carlton Farms. I like turkeys in the 18-20 pound range because they fit in my oven and I want lots of bones and leftover meat for soup. I can actually feed 75-100 people from one turkey by making bone broth and using it well! (You can, too!) Thaw bird, if needed, in a fridge. It may take up to 72 hours to thaw a turkey this size. Or, scale down, if desired!

Brining: This is optional but I highly recommend it. I’ve tried both wet and dry brines and I like dry the best. It’s easier, often cheaper, a lot less messy, and ultimately, more effective. And it has no sugar! The purpose is to season the bird, while holding juices in the muscle for a moist, tender turkey, with gorgeous, crispy, perfectly seasoned skin. Wash your hands a lot during the process! You’ll need:

Coarse grey Celtic sea salt

Freshly ground pepper (black or mixed colors)

Dried thyme (or other herbs as desired)

A pan large enough to hold the turkey loosely. (ie Eco-foil from your local supermarket. Nobody’s perfect!)

Mix together in a small bowl: 4 Tbsp. coarse sea salt with 2 Tbsp. ground pepper and 1 1/2 Tbsp crushed, dried thyme, etc., if desired. (You can also do this with just salt, in which case you may need an extra Tbsp. for coverage.) Don’t use regular table or fine grind salt! It leaves a bitter taste and you have to reduce the amount significantly so it’s hard to cover the whole bird without making it too salty.

For an 18-20 pound, thawed turkey, remove any neck and innards. Reserve them for other uses as needed. I freeze the neck, heart, and gizzard for soup stock or feed them to the dogs, if that’s the sort of thing yours are used to. The liver is great for dirty rice and may be frozen, separately. (Or added to the dog feast!) Pat bird dry, inside and out, with paper towels and place bird in pan. (If using foil pan, place that on top of a sheet tray or similar pan for stability.)

Working in the pan, season the dried inside and outside of the bird well with salt mix. Get down around the wings and legs and thighs. Pat and rub. Leave uncovered or cover loosely with parchment paper. Place in fridge, preferably the old one in the basement, and just leave it alone for up to 3 days. I like 18-24 hours. It will be fine. What you’re aiming for with the timing is that miraculous moment when the skin is crispy, the meat is juicy and tender, and the bird is perfectly salted.

You’re well on the way to the best Thanksgiving feast ever!

On Sunday I’ll be back here with roasting directions for Gorgeous, Juicy (Easy) Turkey.

ps… the dry-brining thing also works really well for a nice, farm raised chicken, should you be looking for something less huge. Just scale everything, including time, down accordingly. This is art, not science!

pps… the art is my Forest of Grandmothers work-in-progress. The particular bit in the photo is where I’ve pasted images of my teachers in the heart wood of the tree. Squint… you may see some folks you know!

My head feels a bit like this…

I suspect you’ve been here, too!

Lots of things on your list. Many of them feeling huge. It’s not necessarily the most comforting place to be.

Especially on about four hours of sleep!

At some point in what passed for morning around here, I happened to check the groovy moon phase app on my phone. (This is definitely a growing edge in my education!)

We are currently in a waxing Gibbous phase, which means growing toward the full moon.

According to the app elves, my advice for this day was:

Break new ground, get back to the things you have been putting off, turn your creativity into success. Your family and home will benefit the most from this lucky day.

Maybe it was enough to shift some of the stressful stuff from right in front of my face to a bit farther out of focus. Or, maybe, the lack of solar guys crawling all over the house improved my perspective.

In any event, for some reason, today I could see how many things I could make better just in the course of wandering through the house.

So, I spent the day putting away and straightening and recycling as I made my way from one official thing to another.

You know the way..

On the way to the studio? Take the new box of neurographia pens and put them away!

Waiting for soup to bubble on the stove? Clean some stuff out of the fridge. (I mean, how many tiny partial bowls of bar-b-que sauce do we really need???)

Stashing a book on the bedside table? Scoop up a load of sheets and head for the washer!

Is a day like this going to save the world?

Nope!

But, it did let me get some stuff done on a very tired day.

Possibly because I put the energy it takes to ignore things to good use… And, I got some extra movement in there, too!

All of which suggests, not only with the moon app elves, but with a lot of the things I’ve been learning lately, that I am, indeed, a bit closer to creating good things with creativity.

Also, for the things that weren’t going so well, but need to, I actually asked for some help!

One day, as the old saying goes, at a time… with much love from me and the Studio Angels who are, not surprisingly, sound asleep!

ps… the painting is deep under-layers of a journey called Codex.

Follow your tears…

As long as I can remember, I’ve gotten choked up talking about things which matter deeply to me.

Eventually, I guess I got used to it, even while realizing it made others uncomfortable, or judgemental, which made me wish I could quit.

Fast forward to my first year in Seminary. The whole tear thing happened a lot there. So many things mattered deeply! I began to get really concerned when it came time to interview for my summer internship after my first year at CTS. You see, in my very limited practice preaching, I cried.

During my interview with my about-to-be ministry supervisor, I mentioned my concern. Gary, a fairly recent CTS grad himself, gave me this advice:

Be sure to have tissues in your pocket. You wouldn’t want to blow your nose on your sleeve!

We laughed together and I knew I had found my place!

(We’ll ignore for the moment that back in those days of the late 1980’s, women had to pay extra to get a pocket put into a clergy robe! Men, as the theory went, only needed a slit in the side seam of the robe because then they could reach their pants pocket! Anyway…)

The tear phenomenon didn’t stop, though I felt less “bad” about it.

Others, it seemed, did not feel less bad.

The bottom line is this… I cry when things matter.

Yesterday, I found a new way to understand that bit of me.

My discovery came in the midst of some work I’m doing with Dr. Kayleen Asbo. Kayleen is a writer, teacher, musician, artist, historian, and pilgrimage leader whom I first met on my Black Madonna Intentional Creativity® journey, four years ago.

In her Magdalene Emerging reading for Tuesday, I discovered this:

Tears are a royal road. If we want to find our truest path and calling in life, we are to follow our tears!

And in my notes, the ps… And not apologize for them!

I’m in! And now I know why!!!

These days, my tears show up most often when I dream and write and paint about empowering Grandmothers to survive and thrive in this world so they can empower their littles – the ones they love the most – to do the same.

And all this tear-knowing made me wonder…

Where are your tears calling you to follow?

I really hope you’ll share! Leave a comment here, or email me. suesvoice@gmail.com

In this moment, I’m off to work some more on my Intentional Grandmothers Archetype project. It’s closer and closer to ready!!!

I’ll leave you, though, with a bit of Kayleen’s prayer:

May I pay fierce attention to where I am called by love’s deepest longings.

May it be so for you, whatever your tradition. May it be so for all of us.

ps… That’s a glimpse of my Bella Mama in the photo.

Apple Pie and Miracles!

We’ll start with the miracles. Pie is for dessert!

In a few hours, the Intentional Creativity® adventure known as Vivid will begin. (Well, technically, we began last night with our opening circle and lots of new Sisters!)

This year’s version is called Tapestry, after the miraculous weaving that happens when we gather together and create.

I’m ready! Not just emotionally. Like, actually… in the real world. There’s even a photo! And, yes, this feels like a miracle! (Thanks, Bill!)

You see, there’s been a lot going on. A big part of that is an adventure known as the Get It Done Lab, the brain child of my friend, Sam Bennett and her amazing team. The structure of this adventure – and community – is helping me to, well, get things done!

Here’s what I posted in the group yesterday…

This is, indeed, another miracle! Not simply a free horizontal space – which is amazing enough – but the fact that all the things which were piled on the table have new intentional spaces to be. Spaces where I could, you know, find and use them!

There’s no photo for the next miracle, but there is a story…

An old friend and dear paint peep asked me a question. (You know how I love questions!) And, with some help from the Muse, and very little sleep, I found an answer to that question living deep inside me in the place that’s not quite conscious.

Some paper and markers later, I had a whole lot more conscious awareness AND a visual model of that answer that I could actually share.

And it helped! (Both of us!)

So, why apple pie?

Well, because many of us are planning for Thanksgiving and I come from a family just non-traditional enough to have finally realized we all liked apple better than pumpkin and we got to choose!

So do you! Thus, Mom’s version of apple pie, just in case you’re exploring new choices. It’s really, really good! And, it’s my gift to you.

My Mom’s Apple Pie

This was Dave’s favorite growing up. Great for summer holidays, but also for Thanksgiving, when you can often get superb local apples. Really good fruit pies crack and run a bit when you cut them. This is really good pie!

            MAKES 1 PIE, ABOUT 8 SERVINGS

            [Note on Ingredients: Since pie crust is a very personal thing, I’m going to leave it up to you. You’ll need enough for a 2 crust pie. Organic Granny Smith apples are great, or try local, seasonal, organic apples. You want something crisp and a bit tart.]

            Arrange oven racks so that pie will bake in center of oven.

            Preheat oven to 425 F.

            Prepare pie crust as above or remove purchased crust from fridge to warm.

            Wash, peel, quarter, and core:

                        6-7 organic apples, as above.

            Into large bowl, slice apples into ¼ inch thick slices, so they’ll retain their shape and some texture when cooked. No applesauce, here!

           In separate bowl, mix together:

                        2/3 c. sugar, more or less, depending on sweetness of apples.

                        1 Tbsp. sprouted grain or all purpose flour.

                        1 tsp. ground cinnamon.

            Add dry ingredients to apples and toss to coat.

           Add apple mix to pie pan with bottom crust.

           Dot with small pieces of butter, about 2 Tbsp. total.

           Cover with top crust. Roll and crimp edges to seal.

            With sharp knife, cut 6 slits, about 1 inch long, into top crust to let steam escape. Place pie on a sheet tray to catch any drips. Place in oven and bake 50-60 min. Check after 45 min. or so to see if edges of crust are browning too much. If so, fold strips of foil, about 3 inches wide and curve to arrange over edges. Top should be nicely browned, with bubbles of juice visible at edges of crust and slits in top when done.

            Cool on rack. Serve warm-ish or at room temperature, garnished to taste with:

                      Good vanilla or cinnamon ice cream.

                        Freshly whipped heavy cream.

                        A slice of sharp cheddar cheese.

            Enjoy!

ps… Giving you the gift of Mom’s apple pie also allowed me to Get [this blog] Done a day early so I could be fully present for the gift of Tapestry. I’m so thankful for that. And for you!

pps… The recipe comes from my book, We Gather Together… holiday feasts with the family you have, which has a recipe for pie crust if you need one. OR you could email me and I’ll send you my very best one, from Granny and Mom and me! suesvoice@gmail.com

It’s been a long time since 1st grade!

When I was about 3 1/2 years old, my Dad got a new job which meant a move from Cleveland to Pittsburg. As the oral tradition tells it, I had two questions before I “agreed” to the move.

Did Pittsburg have corn on the cob? And, did they have Romper Room?

It might have been a sign. I’ve spent a whole lot of my time since then learning.

After Pittsburg came St. Louis, where there was no public kindergarten. There was a ballet teacher but she was scary and I didn’t want to pretend to be a helicopter!

I started first grade able to count to 10 and write my name, which, in this time would be considered woefully behind the curve.

Had I known about Heaven, I would have thought it was first grade and assumed that Mrs. McKnight was God. I’ve pretty much been at it ever since.

It feels like the pace is picking up a bit in these days and, somewhere in my consciousness, the voices have awakened again.

The Muse is delighted.

The Critic, not so much.

We’ll let the Critic go first as she is decidedly the loudest.

No! Run! Very Scary! People like us don’t think things like this! What will other people think?

Perhaps you’ve met.

The Muse, on the other hand, has taken to quoting my friend Sam Bennett.

Oh!

To get the full effect, tip your head slightly to one side and, with rounded lips and a little lift to your voice…

Oh! (Like curious surprise…)

They’re keeping me up, nights, those two, which is no particular surprise. You see, they’re both trying to help.

The Critic believes that we know what’s safe by the fact that it’s familiar. That we’ve lived through it before. Preferably many, many generations of before. (But, sometimes, those things didn’t really work very well at all… they were only familiar.)

The Muse, on the other hand, likes possibilities. She’s a What if? kind of girl.

Here’s what kind of got left out on much of my long educational path…

I get to choose!

And here’s the really, really good news…

So do you!

There is a bit of a ya-but to this story, though.

It works better when we choose out of fierce compassion. When we choose out of the most good for the most people. When we choose empowerment rather than domination and subjugation.

So, that’s pretty much my what these days, sprinkled with a fair amount of STARDUST!

There’s more how coming soon.

For now, though… homework! And blessings for your learning.

ps… “ya-but” was one of our son’s favorite phrases when he was about 14 or 15. I think he caught on to the choosing thing early!

pps… the painting is deep underlayers of something which no longer exists in that form. It’s known as, “Oh!”

St. Puddleglum

You know how an old story or an old song will suddenly burst with new meaning when you’re in a different place on your journey? Well, I’m having one of those moments!

Fair warning… this may be one of those stories where you kind of had to be there but, if you’ll hang with me, I’m betting you’ll find a spark of something just for you!

The story seems to start — but of course it doesn’t — on a teaching retreat I was blessed to attend with the folks from Channel Your Genius Academy this weekend.

Our topic was, in its most basic sense, getting un-stuck. (At least that’s what I heard through my filters from other traditions!)

The ah-ha moment for me had to do with MOTION as a key to getting where I want to go.

(Time out for duh’s and laughter!)

The thing is, we were talking about both literal and metaphorical motion.

After years of pain and orthopedic challenges, I’m all over the metaphorical kind of motion but more than a little resistant to the literal.

We’ll return to this in a bit.

First, calendar check!

“Today” is Halloween. Here’s our coping strategy…

But, today being Halloween means that tomorrow is All Saints Day and that gives me a chance to tell, once again, one of my favorite seminary stories.

Dr. Walter Brueggemann preaching in chapel on All Saints Day… After acknowledging that it was, perhaps, a bit outside the Reformed theology world view in which we were being “raised,” Walter said this:

The Saints are all those who believe for us on days when we can’t quite believe for ourselves.

Leaping a bit, but perhaps not so very far, we come to one of my personal Saints, a guy named Puddleglum.

For the for the uninitiated, Puddleglum is a Marsh Wiggle, who, with the Prince and some children, is being held by the Witch, who is busy explaining why their journey to Narnia is juvenile and futile. Puddleglum isn’t having it. Let’s listen in…

“One word, Ma’am,” he said, coming back from the fire; limping, because of the pain. “One word. All you’ve been saying is quite right, I shouldn’t wonder. I’m a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put the best face I can on it. So I won’t deny any of what you said. But there’s one thing more to be said, even so. Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things — trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that’s a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We’re just babies making up a game, if you’re right. But four babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real world hollow. That’s why I’m going to stand by the play world. I’m on Aslan’s side even if there isn’t any Aslan to lead it. I’m going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn’t any Narnia. So, thanking you kindly for our supper, if these two gentlemen and the young lady are ready, we’re leaving your court at once and setting out in the dark to spend our lives looking for Overland. Not that our lives will be very long, I should think; but that’s small loss if the world’s as dull a place as you say.”

C.S. Lewis, The Silver Chair, The Chronicles of Narnia

Now, I’ve loved this story for ages, but yesterday, in the midst of our retreat, I realized that part of the power is that Puddleglum is MOVING, even though anybody with half an ounce of sense knows it’s scary!

If you’ve been reading along for a bit, you know that I’m partial to questions. So, predictably, I asked a few in that retreat, which involved rather a lot of risking being the odd kid on my part.

One of those questions had to do with HOW we started putting what we were learning to work for us.

The answer, from Mellissa, our slightly quirky fearless leader, following in the footsteps of one of her biggest teachers, was GIRAFFE.

Really!

And then I got it. You see, the glimpse of the painting with which we began is known as Blossom and Aria. Aria is the Abundance Muse with the winged eye. Blossom is the mystical giraffe who appeared beside her in the last stages of the painting, despite the fact that I had no idea how or why to paint a giraffe.

Now I know more.

Specifically, that MOTION, now known as GIRAFFE, is the key to the abundance of body, mind, spirit, and community I so desire. I suspect it will take many kinds of motion. Today, I’m starting with dog brushing!

For now, may you feel your Saints believing for you, and believe for someone else.

ps… Lately, I’ve come to realize that Grandmothers are especially suited for Walter’s notion of being saints… of believing for our littles when they can’t quite believe for themselves!

Remember the Wizard behind the curtain in Oz?

The one who turned out to be a regular kind of guy with some fancy toys?

Well, at the moment, I feel like his considerably less up to date Grandmother!

It’s like this… I think geographically when it comes to my tech toys.

For example, how do I get the photo from my phone to a Word doc in my laptop so I can print it on the printer that has not yet worked out a relationship with the phone?

Or, how do I get the first half of a WordPress page into an email in Keap and from there to the automation I really, really need but am still just a bit terrified to kill and, thus, need to start over again?

If you’re reading this, there’s a better than even chance that you, too, have versions of this story!

There’s also a good chance that, like me, you have hungry beasties and a Zoom meeting to run and a truckload of emails from people who think that the big thing on their list should be the big thing on your list, too.

And, if we’re being honest, I’ll admit to a bit of temptation when a flash of a memory appeared in my mind. Or heart.

I was at my Minnesota grandparents’ house. Probably about 10 years old. Grampa was at work. Gramma and I were watching soap operas on a black and white TV while she starched and ironed shirts and something with a heavenly aroma roasted in the oven.

Looking back, that day with Gramma seems all safe and familiar and more than a bit Leave it to Beaver.

What I didn’t quite realize in that moment was that Gramma was also an employed woman who cared about lots of big world things like her church and politics. Well, she wasn’t so much employed by that time, but she had been.

She was also the chief financial officer in her family and a long-time guardian for a younger brother with developmental challenges.

And she taught her grandkids math by teaching us to play Cribbage and, later, a game she called Spite and Malice. She even kept our pennies when she won!

All of which made for quite a legacy!

What makes me sad is that I really have no idea how she felt about her life or what dreams she may have had.

I do, vividly, recall her ranting about not seeing the point of the Women’s Movement which I was only beginning to wrap my head around back then.

Here’s what I do know…

She loved me. And, even though she probably couldn’t have imagined my life as it is in this moment, she would have wanted me to be happy and committed to making a difference.

That feels timeless.

For now, back to Quiz emails…

ps… if you would, by any chance, be willing to volunteer to be in the beta test group for the Intentional Grandmothers Archetype Quiz, please email me! suesvoice@gmail.com

pps… early holiday art shoppers welcome! FierceArtWithHeart