The storage unit between our ears!

For a while now, I’ve been hanging out in the magical land of Sam Bennet called Get It Done! And I have, as I hoped, gotten a boatload of it done.

I’ve also encountered lots of other pilgrims on the path!

People from other places. People with other gifts and dreams. People wise enough to know that learning some new things – or ways of being – just might be helpful in getting out of some all too familiar hamster wheels of doing.

Here’s a thing I noticed…

Whatever we showed up to get done, we seem to have something in common.

Stuff!

Specifically, Stuck Stuff!

Some of it looks a lot like the kind of old stuff which hides in cardboard boxes and doesn’t pay rent in the spaces we call home. Or garage. Or Pod.

Some of it looks like paper. Stacks and stacks of it.

Some of looks like – heresy alert! – books! Or even shoes!

Well, you get it.

Sorting and pitching… packing and toting… donating, and even garage sales, seem to be on many of our lists.

And, yes, I’ve gotten lots of that done.

Even better, though, is the sorting that’s gone in my head. You know… the virtual box kind. And, if you’ve been reading along for a bit, you may recall that I have a thing for something I call Unsticking Stuck Stuff!

It seems this is something almost all of us – however grudgingly – admit we could use more of. And something almost all of us struggle with.

And I have some new ideas!

Well… maybe not so much new ideas as new possibilities, woven with vision and care, out of old, dusty stuff we inherited without even realizing it!

Amazingly, that kind of weaving seems to become dreams. And words. And images. And all of those, together, can become new Realities.

I’m not making this up!

In fact, it happened in my world this very week!

And a whole lot of my dreams are clearer. And sprouting actual paths. And concrete action.

Oh, there’s more to do!

I will give you a hint, though.

Labels!

(And who gets to choose them!)

Curious???

Great! Because, as my old friend, Steve Glenn, used to say… that’s our most powerfull state for learning!

Curious enough to learn more???

Click HERE!

My gift to you… 45 minutes… Concrete HOPE. Because that’s what this Grandmother is in charge of! (A cuppa and a scrap of red thread would be handy.)

ps… take a minute to thank some of your greatest teachers along the way and notice what they had in common! I’m sure thanking mine!!!

pps… the painting is last summer’s Legend… almost finished and checking out the real estate with the rest of the tribe! What do you see???

Out of chaos…

Or, an unexpected ah-hah!

I’m not a huge fan of random!

I’m fine with sudden inspiration. And paintings that don’t follow the plan.

It’s things like not knowing if my knee will do what I pay it for when I want to stand up that are harder for me to deal with. Things that leave me feeling choice-less.

I’m not sure how things feel where you are, but the whole election cycle drama feels like the less-fun kind of random to me.

Dozens and dozens of emails a day. Lots of them trying to scare me into doing more than I can.

And I AM doing what I can!

All of which means getting okay with doing what I can – what is real and true and important according to my understanding – and declining to be guilt-tripped about the rest.

Which, if you’re anything like me, may not be what you learned, growing up! Thus, coping strategies are in order!

Between the knee and the actual politics and a whole bunch of stuff hatching in my head, I’ve spent perhaps even a bit more time than usual hanging out with the gang from The West Wing. (Go ahead and laugh… I can take it!)

In fact, I’ve made it all the way back to Season 3, episode 1… again! (Okay… I may have skipped a few!) And, yes, I’m looking for reminders that hope wins, eventually.

To review… high school kids on a field trip, stuck in the White House during a Secret Service lock-down. The topic of the conversation was terrorism. Today, the Emmy nomination goes to Deputy Communications Director, Sam Seaborn.

What strikes me most about terrorism is its 100% failure rate.

Yep! And Sam went on…

Not only do terrorists always fail at what they’re after… they pretty much always succeed at strengthening what they’re against.

And you, if you’ve been here before, are already pretty sure who the terrorists might be in my version of this story. The ones with massive entitlement issues! And they feel really, really loud.

I’ve decided, though, that I am going to be strengthened by all the attempts to threaten our nation and take away our rights. (You could decide to be strengthened, too!)

And, just this week, I noticed an inspired plan taking shape inside me. I’m pretty sure it’s happening because I’ve blown the dust out of some of my own filters and let some more light in!

More details on the new plan coming soon. (And, yes, there’s art to make and a couple of meetings to have, still… but the inner magic has happened!)

For now… a special offer. Come play Filters in Zoom land with me. You’ll need 90 minutes, a willingness to have a new experience, some paper and markers, and the best $111 you’ll ever spend.

Click HERE!

The elves will send you a calendar link after you’ve registered. (Well, it might be me sending the calendar link… the elves need a bit more inservice training… so a tiny bit of patience would be great!)

This, dear hearts, is how we keep the thems (inner and outer!) who would keep us small, from winning!

And, just in case you’ve played Filters a while back, my Muse yelled plot-twist recently and it’s an even better adventure now!

ps… there’s some good news on the knee front today! The ortho guy is talking exercise instead of adventures involving scalpels and such! Physical Therapy, tomorrow!

pps… ready to go public with your determination? The Legendary Husband’s timely t-shirt has you covered! So hoping you’ll check it out! (Just this week, 10% of the profits go to blue candidates!)

Unexpected glimpses of the Divine Feminine in action!

Friday was an interesting sort of day.

First, a bit of a triumph in the land of t-shirt creation. The mechanical elves were not in a helpful mood, but, finally, the goal was achieved. Just in time, it would seem, if you’ve been watching the news!

Then, my currently problematic kneecap decided to get stuck in a sub-optimal location. This led to a bit of drama involving the knee brace & walking stick & big dogs whimpering in concern .

A bit of lunch and some joint & muscle oil later, things began to look up. It was time to hang out with Annie!

I mean, who could turn down a live (Zoom) Q & A with Anne Lamott??? Not me… even with the crabby knee!

The crowd was filled with writers. Those who claim the label and those still reaching for it. An Intentional Creativity® Sister. And a woman who looked a lot like an old friend. Annie was up for it. We chatted a lot about what to write. And how. And, even, why.

Here are a few of my favorite bits, drawn heavily from her Bird by Bird which lives on my ancient, actual bookshelf, beside Buechner and Brueggemann, and bits of C.S. Lewis.

(What follows are not exact quotes from the book. They’re more Annie musing and me scribbling on the obligatory index card.)

Where to start??? Shitty first drafts!

How to write every day? Bribes & threats! (Gentle ones!)

How do you decide what to leave out? Deletion is a huge part of creativity!

How do you know you’re a writer? As soon as you stop not writing… you’re a writer!

I was, except for my knee, like a very happy Grammy after a platter full of stone crab claws as our time together came to a close and Annie went off to the next right thing… which I suspect had something to do with the puppy!

My next right thing was skipping a recorded meeting in favor of a knee-up, eyes closed event. This required background noise and I opted for music.

Joan Baez. In this case, a recording of a live concert held in Cesarea Israel in 1979.

And, yes, it’s time for the context brackets to appear!

Most of the songs were ones I had loved for years. Blowin’ in the Wind. Kumbaya. Dona Dona Dona. One about Jesus. Well, you get the drift. Some of them were unfamiliar.

Notably, one sung in Hebrew and another in Arabic. (Joan is a language genius!)

In Israel. In 1979.

And then the YouTube elves got busy and started sending random songs from Joan, and I hummed along, deeply engaged in untangling a new stash of red yarn… a Red Thread Guide graduation gift!

There came, as sometimes happens, a surprise! With God on Our Side.

This one was a bit of a challenge for me. The punchline was the assertion that God is on everyone’s side.

True confession time.

I set aside my yarn long enough to grab another index card and the first thing I wrote down was that God is on the side of everyone who believes God is on everyone’s side.

That was tempting, in this moment, but not quite enough. A bit of conversation with the Legendary Husband later, and some more literal and figurative unwinding and I was ready to edit my index card.

God is on everyone’s side… and weeps for those who can’t accept that.

And somewhere inside me, as I hung out with Annie and Joan in the context of this moment – and those moments gone by – I could have sworn that I was surrounded by glimpses of the Divine Feminine at work, even now.

Which caused me to wonder what it is that wants to be born in you? Or set free???

ps… looking for a writers’ retreat? Check out Heal & Create!

pps… so, given all the “context” issues of the moment, here’s a first glimpse at the Legendary Husband’s timely t-shirt! So hoping you’ll check it out!

“Raised Right” is STILL not enough!

Yes, I’ve told a piece of this story before, because some stories are important enough to come around again and again… and they often bring different messages in different moments!

Once upon a Sunday morning, quite some time ago, 11:00 arrived as it almost always does, and it was my turn to preach. There were a few challenges, that particular day.

It was a Sunday in October. A Sunday for which the Lectionary (a complicated calendar of which scripture passages are “for” which day) was utterly unprepared!

You see, in addition to it being the whichever Sunday in Ordinary Time, it was also Stewardship Sunday in our congregation, on Pink Ribbon Sunday for breast cancer awareness, in National Domestic Violence Awareness month.

Yep! Money, sex (well some people think so) and power all cued up for Sunday morning.

Three things you learned, if you were raised right in the time and places I was, not to talk about!

But I did. Because I couldn’t have lived with myself or faced the Creator of my understanding if I hadn’t. I mean, real people – struggling with those things – were sitting in our pews and not talking about those things wasn’t going to help anything get different!

This time feels just like that, somewhere deep in my raised right heart, which has learned a whole lot of new things in the last few years.

One of those new things I’ve learned is just how much politics is tied up with things like breast cancer research and treatment. And with things like domestic violence laws and enforcement… or not.

And then there’s the whole issue of who is real-enough to have civil and human rights. Today. In America.

It’s a really, really big issue and we’re not going to get it solved here, just now.

Earlier today, though, I listened to a recording of one of my Sister/Mentor/Teachers talking about these issues as they impact women and girls. I was scribbling pretty fast but this the center of what I heard:

Sisters… it is not our job to prove our worthiness but to CLAIM it! (Elayne Kalila Doughty)

I would add that it’s our job to protect our worthiness – our status as intentionally created humans – for ourselves and our sisters and all those who will come after us.

And, yes, politics is another of those things many of us raised right folks were taught not to talk about.

I’m not sure it ever worked. It certainly isn’t working now!

There was another thing Elayne reminded me of today. In modern/post-modern times, it’s only been about 100 years that women could vote and have resources in their own names and run for office and make their voices heard. And fewer years than that, in many cases, for people of color.

And maybe – just maybe – all the current political chaos is a planned effort on the part of way too many rich, powerful men to take away those rights and powers in order to protect their own agendas.

So, here’s my idea… let’s learn some of the tales of women who were wise world leaders in the old days. Back when raised right meant defending their families and homes and beliefs. Back when raised right meant learning and teaching and participating in world-changing events. Back when raised right women named Garsinde and Joan and Jacquetta and Boudicca and Mathilda and many, many Marys claimed their worthiness and changed the world for all of us.

And, then… let us, too, claim our worth and speak and lead and heal. And so it is. Here’s a glimpse of what that claiming looks like on my easel. Squint for today… she’ll be clearer soon!

ps… the top painting is deep under-layers of what became, about a year later, Grandmother Moon! And, it volunteered to step up and become a mug, bringing the colors of pink and purple ribbons for hope and – if you squint just a bit – a rainbow! Grandmother Moon insisted on a special offer – just for you and those you love – during the month of October!

pps… wondering what YOUR piece of speaking and leading and healing looks like? Here’s a fast, free, fun way to get more clarity!

Coming home to ourselves…

Hurricane Ian has torn a ragged path through Florida. Through the part that still lives in the box in my head labeled Home!

I am hugely grateful that my dear ones are safe. Shaken. But safe.

So many are not.

There was a woman on the news, blaming herself for how scared she had been. The primary caregiver for her paralyzed husband, unable to leave, she recounted strapping him to his bed and cushioning him with pillows for protection.

Then, as she told the story, she sheltered – terrified – under a table, unable to both comfort him and protect herself, so that she could continue to care for him. She shamed and blamed herself on national TV. And they both survived.

I wondered, as I watched and wept, how many times we do that to ourselves, with or without prompting from a hurricane.

How do we come home to ourselves, with or without a literal hurricane, and pick up our lives with new visions?

Here’s the place I’m starting in the figurative, largely chosen, path of the storms of my own journey. The journey represented by a painting called Legend.

No matter how many stories I’ve collected, how many diplomas I’ve earned, how many books I’ve read – and written – I can’t actually carry a Medicine Basket with everything in it. It’s time for some sorting and releasing.

And that’s okay. In fact, it’s a blessing. It’s a lot like packing for a trip and choosing to take along what works now. For YOU.

I won’t bore you with the leaving behind bit. Let’s just say that, for me at least, it’s lots of other people’s rules for other times and contexts. Also, lots of meetings about the way things ought to be.

Instead, along with my SuperPowers, I’m filling my Medicine Basket and calendar with space! Space for creating. For discovering. For helping others – just like you – along their journeys. For Love.

There are a couple of new vocabulary words in the basket. And a bunch of new symbols. And some ancestors who feel like they’re walking with me. They’re mostly in charge of helping to carry the courage, for I hear John Denver singing in my ear….

Coming home to a place I’ve never been before…

And, frankly, I have no idea what’s around the next curve! What I do know is that my calling is to put one foot in front of the other – in my own way – noticing and wondering and learning as I go. And being okay with the mystery!

My Medicine Basket is ready. And so am I!!!

ps… relating to the mystery bit? I hear you! And sometimes different questions – ones you haven’t encountered in just the same way and time – can help! HERE ARE SOME, JUST FOR YOU!

pps… Daphne has signed on for the journey, too! Bears are very good at the kind of courage which replenishes us with power. She’s slipped some energy for healing wounds and making travelers whole again into the Medicine Basket!

A story for a “holiday” we shouldn’t need…

Trigger alert.

This is me, dear friends, about to say a bunch of things I absolutely wish didn’t need to be said. But, they do.

In the wee small hours of Monday morning, when Grandmother Moon‘s mini-me was enjoying her perch next to the “other” bed, and whispering in my ear, I began to dream a fairy tale of sorts in my head.

Well, maybe not so much a fairy tale as a teaching metaphor in language a learner might have space for in their story-mind.

We may, or may not, get to the actual story-telling bit in a few minutes. For now, the Duh! moment I discovered when I made it to the land of tea and magic chair a couple hours later.

It seems that today – September 28th – has been designated by the Women’s Global Network for Reproductive Rights as an international day of observance.

Originally, the day was created to observe the Law of Free Birth which was passed on September 28, 1871 and intended, by the Brazillian Parliament to provide freedom for children of enslaved people of Brazil.

In 2015, the day’s name was changed to International Safe Abortion Day. In the years since 2015, people in nations like Argentina, Malta, El Salvador, Chile, and Mexico have marched and rallied for abortion rights.

Today, in the USA, Conservative GOP candidates are framing overturning Roe – v – Wade, and even possible limiting of access to contraception, as an issue of faith. “Christian” faith.

More Progressive candidates are insisting that abortion and reproductive health care choices of all kinds are issues of civil and human rights. Of bodily sovereignty.

I am a Grandmother who hopes deeply that neither of my girls are ever facing an abortion decision.

I am also a former surgical nurse who has assisted in abortions for a variety of medical and personal reasons, the deliveries of dead fetuses to heartbroken mothers, and C-sections on terrified teenagers. Trust me when I tell you that none of those people were ready to be where they were. And none of it would have been better if criminal prosecution had been part of those traumas.

I’m tired, now, and sad, and angry so I’m going to take a break and see what tomorrow brings and what my fledgling fairy tale decides. I have told enough of my truth – I hope – to sleep.

And then there was darkness, and dreams. And light. So…

Strange Things About Fish & Politics

Once upon a time, there were two goldfish. Their names were Robby and Walter! Robby was orange with long wavy fins and Walter was black and had big, bulgy eyes.

Robby and Walter lived in a lovely aquarium. They swam – usually in circles – and watching  them was a bit like meditating for me.

Here’s the odd thing about goldfish. They can be many, many different sizes, but they only grow big enough to fit in the place where they live! So, a pet goldfish who lives in a small bowl will stay very small and cramped, while that fish’s cousin, who lives in a big aquarium – or even a koi pond – will grow bigger and more fully what they were created to be!

Here’s another story about a fish, with a much harder name to say… ICHTHYS.

Ichthys is a funny word which has meant different things to different people throughout history. Today, it is commonly used as a symbol for Jesus… like the little silver fish you may have seen on the backs of people’s cars.

If you think of each letter in the word as an initial for a Greek word, it can be understood as meaning Jesus Christ Son of God Savior. It used to be a bit like a secret code and is now often more used as a trademark… like, you know, an apple with a bite out of it. Or FOX.

Some people, trying to control the world like big scary sharks, want to tell the rest of us what to think and what we can choose. Often, these days, those people say that the things they want are the things Jesus wants.

Some of them are just confused. Many, many of the loudest of them are wrong!

What they’re really trying to do is to keep Jesus very small – like a goldfish in a tiny bowl – so that people won’t pay attention to what Jesus really said, which is, basically, that our Divine Parents created and love us all – like all the kinds of fish – and want us to have what we need. Because we all matter in this world.

Now, this story, like so many of its kind, needs a message at the end. A simple sort of message. One that’s easy to share. So here it is:

Beware listening to those who want to trap Jesus in their tiny fishbowl!

ps…instead of asking you to wander around FierceArtWithHeart and buy something empowering, I’m hoping you’ll donate whatever you can manage to candidates and causes, where you are, that support real civil and human rights. It’s going to take a lot of us!

Okay… this might sound a wee bit nutty!

Sometimes I sound a wee bit nutty to me, too!

Like an inner conversation from a couple of nights ago. We’ll get back to this!

First, an announcement… the Legendary Husband and I have survived our saga with the perils of quarantine and – you know – tests.

We were really lucky with our post-Dragon Con adventure. And I say that being hugely aware that millions upon millions of people and families in the global neighborhood were not.

I have a long personal relationship with pneumonia and am grateful that, for us, with all the avoidance measures observed, this was way less a deal that that.

There were some things that were decidedly sub-optimal.

Food was one of those. The whole germ thing in overdrive…

Sleeping was another. Two rooms. Two beds. Not at all a welcome change.

The combined sick-sleepy bit with the not-sleeping-well-alone bit was, well, not good!

A couple of nights ago, I was feeling better enough to realize that part of the reason I wasn’t sleeping well had to do with some really un-helpful dreams.

Then it hit me!

I was the one sleeping in the other place and that meant that the enormous painting affectionately known as Grandmother Moon was not hanging on the wall beside me, whispering dreams of the helpful sort, as she almost always does.

I flirted with the notion of moving her but we’re talking a 48×60 inch canvas!

(Insert muttering and swearing here!)

I did a couple choruses of It’s really no big deal. Other people have much bigger challenges. Get over it! before I realized that I was discounting my feelings and needs, and we don’t believe in that.

Then, I realized that Grandmother Moon has a mini-me. A couple hundred of them, actually. So I picked my secret fave from the postcard box and leaned it up against the lamp beside the bed.

And, yes… it helped! A lot!!!

Not the postcard, itself, of course, but the intention behind placing it where I did.

The helpful dreams began again, along with actual sleeping between the dreams.

This was hugely handy because I’m deep into finishing the creation of my Red Thread Guide Portfolio which got a bit delayed by the whole viral not-thinking thing.

And that got me wondering about you!

What are YOU intending at this point on your journey???

And how might you externalize & represent that intention so that it can help inspire you along the way?

It’s a bit like getting a tattoo!

At least I suspect it is. I don’t have any of the usual kind. I have heavy metal toxicity, instead, and am not personally in favor of adding to those issues with ink.

And, still, I am – occasionally – tempted!

Enter my friends at Conscious Ink! Yep… temporary, non-toxic tats!

This is a timely thought for me as I’m also planning my self-initiation ritual for Red Thread graduation and I actually bought some Conscious Ink a while back. A bit of excavating produced this:

I’m thinking inside of my right wrist. The left is well upholstered in red thread!

A little reminder that we can is almost always a good thing! And I’m so hoping you’ll join me in a bit of intending and representing in whatever way feels right for you.

For this moment, I’m remembering victims and survivors of recent hurricanes in my prayers – and projected ones, too! – and holding intention for the healing of our planet… May the red thread tortoise bring wisdom, safety, healing, longevity, and protection, as her kind are held to do!

ps… if, as the season changes, you are having thoughts about new learning for new journeys and would like some company on the path, take a deep breath and click here… We’ve got this!

pps… Grandmother Moon is eager to welcome you to FierceArtWithHeart where there are all manner of goodies eager to help you externalize and represent YOUR intentions. Great gifts abound! If you need something a bit more personal, email me at suesvoice@gmail.com Commissioned painting and custom print requests are welcome!