Drum roll, please! Today is my first day of hearth tending.
No, we don’t have a fire-place, nor even a grill at the moment. This is a spiritual food kind of thing.
Wednesday is Work In Progress day in the Red Thread Cafe Classroom. Intentional Creativity members post what they’re working on, ask questions, and cheer each other on, sometimes even through the tears.
Hearth tenders are Color of Woman Graduates (Yay!!!) who mingle in the group and offer support. We answer questions (when we can) and give hints about how to make things appear or disappear, and ponder next steps. Mostly, we hold the circle of women working together to help people (and the world) heal through self-expression.
I’ve had lots of good teachers.
Two of them aren’t technically old enough yet. They’re my granddaughters. Kenzie is eleven.
Tomorrow, Taylor will be nine.
(How is this possible???)
We’ve had quite the debate about birthday gifts. Taylor is into science things and Bill thought a plastic robot that has something to do with computer coding would be a great idea.
(This is not my department!)
I was in favor of amethyst earrings but her Mom and Dad beat me to the jewelry counter.
We ended up with a soccer warm-up suit. Taylor’s choice, actually. She plays on a travel team already and seems to love it. And if she wants black soccer pants and a jacket with a very tasteful white stripe and a recognizable logo, I’m good with that.
I bought lots of paints at Thanksgiving!
I want them to be who they are. To know they are enough. To experiment with new things and be comfortable with trying hard and occasionally missing.
Which, coincidentally, is a lot like Intentional Creativity.
Honestly, if I had a choice, I’d be in Virginia making yet another attempt at gluten-free pecan pie, which was not my best effort at Thanksgiving.
But I’m also grateful to be here, with Sarah on the floor sleeping off her chiropractic adjustment, a meeting to get ready for, some editing to finish, and some painting to do, even if it’s only a bit today.
The coughing, sneezing, and sore throat suggest that a nap might be a good plan.
There will be soup for supper and a Zoom meeting for dessert, topped with a generous dollop of fierce compassion.
And, perhaps, a spot of chocolate. The Muse is in favor.
If you’d like to know more, scroll down a bit and leave me a comment. Or sign up for the blog. If you like being here, you’re welcome.
And, if you have a moment, wish Taylor a happy birthday. She’s awesome!
For the moment, though, it’s 10 after one and the big dogs are all asleep. I should be, too. Blog posts, like paintings and granddaughters, often have other ideas.
Tomorrow, though, remember to do what wonders you!
(I used to be a surgical nurse and spent way too much time trying to put people back together after adventures with those!)
In this case, Harley is a dog. A new friend from this year’s Westminster Kennel Club show.
The resident 4-footed kids and I watch every year. Well, I watch. They mostly sleep.
Bill deals with dinner. In this case gluten-free pizza.
It’s a real deja-vu thing for me. I started showing the summer I was 17. English Mastiffs! The first time I entered a ring, I was drafted from the sidelines when a professional handler didn’t show. We needed to get one more dog in the ring to hold the major which is dog show lingo for getting more championship points.
The owner of the enormous dog in question said, “Just hold on tight and stay on your feet!”
Much to everyone’s amazement, we took first in our class. I was hooked!
I’ve spent a lot of time in the ring in my day. Mastiffs. Great Pyrenees. English Springers. Newfoundlands. Even a Scottish Deerhound, once, for a friend.
My day, however, was quite a while back, before lots of knee surgery, so these days, we watch. Bill’s still trying to figure out how to make money off my consistently good eye for the winners!
Oddly enough, on my first day in the ring, all those years ago, one of the professional handlers in the same ring was a great guy named Peter J. Green. Tonight he judged Best in Show at Westminster. (This is another one of those true stories that actually happened!)
Congratulations to “Bono”, the Havanese, who went Reserve and to “King”, the Wire Fox Terrier who went Best in Show. And to the adorable Sussex Spaniel named “Bean” who made the short list.
I have assured my herd of fabulous Newfoundlands that they would, of course, have won if only the judges had met them. (OK, they wouldn’t really. It’s a rescue mom thing!)
This year, though, my number one favorite was the winner of the 24 inch agility class. (That’s 24 inches tall at the shoulder, which is a pretty good sized dog in most places.)
His name is Harley.
Harley was introduced as an “All American Dog” which is apparently a recent attempt on the part of the AKC to be politically correct and include dogs of more diverse backgrounds in some of the sport competitions that run along with the breed judging.
Harley is 10 years old and a cancer survivor. He had surgeries to remove several masses from his legs a couple of years ago. And there he was, leaping the jumps and racing up and down the teeter totter things and dashing through the tunnel with a huge, silly grin on his hound-ish sort of face.
My guys were a bit concerned about why Mom was crying at the dog show.
Harley didn’t win the overall agility championship. That prize went to a fluffy little bitty critter that moved almost fast enough to win the Indianapolis 500. (This is a matter of reality we big dog fans are accustomed to.)
Harley got all my votes for inspiration, though.
I was probably just about to turn four the first time I remember watching Westminster. A black and white English Springer won. Our own Maude got up and licked the rounded edge screen on the little black and white TV in our living room. It was the only time all night she paid any attention!
I’m still watching. And, yes, I know there are lots of folks who consider Westminster to be an expensive beauty contest without the college scholarships. By and large, though, I think the world could do worse than a family reunion for a whole bunch of people who love dogs.
Harley didn’t go home with the big silver bowl but he went home a huge winner in my book. And so did his mom.
Bill. The server at lunch. The guy behind the counter at our favorite local butcher shop. Friends on the phone and online. My sister.
(I’m guessing this sounds familiar to you, too!)
And the honest answer is, I don’t know.
I’m tired, after a long and rather stressful week.
I’m thrilled to have received a check in the mail for my first Intentional Creativity partnership workshop.
I’m grateful for having had much of yesterday to paint what moved me in the moment. Including big, free circles in both directions.
I’m sad and frustrated and utterly blown away by the news.
I’m blessed with food in my belly and in my freezer.
I’m deeply, deeply sad for the friend who lost a beloved dog.
I’m glad that Sarah is feeling well enough to go chasing some varmint around the back yard in the dark and pissed that, given her tendency to stubbornness, I had to go get her.
I’m hopeful and anxious about new things beginning in my world.
I’m sad that my kids feel far away.
And I’m blown away by a crazy new idea I’m just about going to have to make happen if I can talk the relevant folks into agreeing.
Well, you get the drift…
I learned one time in school that some famous therapist type said we could only feel one thing at a time.
I beg to differ.
Instead, I suspect that life is much more complicated than that and the assumption that we feel this way OR that adds, somehow, to the angst of paying attention.
(I also suspect that being tired complicates all the rest!)
So, what do we do?
Well, there’s soup on the menu for lunch tomorrow. Bird broth and lots of veg and a bit of local smoked chicken sausage.
A sprinkle of stardust certainly wouldn’t hurt!
A few things to cross off the list. The kind that just up the stress when they feel avoided.
And time for creating.
Quite possibly a nap.
Frittata for supper. Yummy and complete with leftovers. And maybe time to hatch up a plan for Valentine’s Day.
It won’t solve all the problems in the world. Or even for the people I love. And so I will add, along with my rather more traditional Presbyterian sorts of prayers, my personal version of the metta, or Prayer for Loving-Kindness:
May I, and all beings, be safe, healthy, happy, free from pain, and at ease. May we be filled with loving-kindness and at peace.
It’s probably going to take a while longer. And it is, if we’re being honest, rather a lot to live in to. And yet, for me at least, it shifts a bit of my focus from how I feel — which may have a lot to do with weather fronts and weird dreams — and reminds me of what I intend.
That seems like a pretty good place to start.
You’re welcome to join me. I think we’re going to need all the folks we can get!
Years ago I learned an old Yiddish proverb: “We plan. God laughs.” A bit of early morning rooting around on the internet suggests that, somewhere along the way, Woody Allen learned it, too.
This week has kind of been one of those weeks.
You see, I made a plan.
In the midst of the painting and the dog grooming and some fascinating conversations about getting my art out into the world, I’ve also, as you may remember, been making a liturgical stole for a seminary alumna being honored with an award for “Pioneering in Ministry.”
The timing was, shall we say, a bit short. But, I had a plan.
I started by choosing a quilt block I’m familiar with. Not too fussy. More fun, really, in its almost folk-art style. Deep, jewel tone colors. What I refer to as Liberated Wild Geese blocks, which means we’re not too worried about precise measurements and identical triangles. In fact, as wild geese are symbols, in some Celtic traditions, for the Holy Spirit, I think Liberated is just how they should be.
God probably started giggling about the time the fancy computerized sewing machine quit when I was just starting to sew.
The new one works great, in a very minimalist sort of sense, which may be what I needed, though I lost about 18 hours while Amazon did their thing.
Then, yesterday, the printer blew a gasket.
My Gramma Elsie, who was a quilter, did not have a printer. She didn’t know that you could print text onto fabric and add it to a quilt.
These days, you can, and it’s really cool, but it pretty much depends on a printer that works.
I had already tried new ink, which didn’t work, even after I waited yet another day for it to arrive. Everything was striped. I like stripes but I want them where I want them and this wasn’t it.
I suspect God had reached full on chuckling by this point.
Bless the Legendary husband who fetched a new printer and figured out the magic involved in actually getting it to print.
The fabric is still drying, but the colors are great and I think we’re going to be good to go.
Then, very, very early this morning (read that last night) I had made enough progress on assembling everything to come to the conclusion that my design had wandered past liberated and into the realm of chaotic. Considerable seam ripping was involved.
Not to worry, though. I have a plan! At least this time, God and I are both laughing!
Am ready to start the re-assembly part which, fortunately, really isn’t hard. It just took a bit of listening to the truth my eyes were telling me. And, I still have about 48 hours, though that includes air drying time and it’s supposed to be cloudy and damp. (Not really so funny!)
And I have to cross my fingers and hope with all my heart that a woman I’ve never met will relate to what I’ve made.
The colors. The symbolism. Even a bit of red thread.
It’s kind of scary. And, yet, it’s also my whole heart. And the work of my hands. I’m hopeful.
A bit of trimming. Some more piecing. Or, rather, re-piecing. Quilting and binding. (Still!) Lots of dots, already included. Prayers for transformation.
Am clutching my magic wands and praying that the rest of the machines hang in there. This is not the time for more mechanical breakdowns.
Sadly, we don’t often get to pick the time.
We do get to show up. To take up the challenge, even when it’s a pretty big challenge.
We do get to pick the time to hug the folks doing big work. And to open ourselves to what comes next.
Because it’s Wednesday, it’s Work In Progress (WIP) day in the land of Intentional Creativity. Here’s a glimpse…
A couple of loads of laundry.
Olympic floor sweeping.
A quilt project. The first in almost a year. Rather an urgent gift and an awkward time for the trusty machine of old to have a computer stroke. Blessings on Amazon and a non-computerized variety, more than capable of getting me through the current task.
Done, quilted, washed, dried, and delivered by next Tuesday. (Gulp!)
It’s worth noticing that I bought the terminally ill computerized embroidery machine just after granddaughter number one was born, when I had fantasies of embroidering little duckies on gingham dresses which needed to be, you know, ironed.
So much about that didn’t work!
There’s a painting almost done and one just begun.
Dog barf washed off the floor. (Sorry, but true!)
Wrestling with budget numbers. It seems there is still more I want to learn! And the counting happens with fingers, toes, and heart.
“Bird broth” thawing in the kitchen. Various leftovers lined up to join the party.
I still don’t wear shoes when it’s cold, but soup helps a lot!
The Christmas tree is taken down and headed for the basement. (Laugh if you need to… It’s not February yet!)
Luther’s getting the hang of eye drops. I think he ran into something he couldn’t see and scratched his eye. It got pretty yucky but we’re making good progress. It only takes two of us now!!!
Celebrating some more exciting news… Stacey Abrams, who, in a fair election would be the new governor of Georgia, has been asked to deliver the Democratic response to the State of the Union address which, as Bill cleverly noted, is blessedly, not on the same night as the Westminster Kennel Club dog show. That means I get to cheer for an amazing American leader and the Newfoundland dog in the Working Group, live and in person. (Politics, February 5th. Best sporting event of the year, February 11th and 12th.)
Have picked out an inspiring place for my new drum to live when it isn’t busy. (Actual hanging perhaps WIP for next week!)
The rain boots that were too big have been returned with help from Bill. I’m fine with packaging but not so good at post office.
Best, perhaps, of all… my quilt project has reminded me of the liberated Spirit that inspires me to get enough of the rest of this stuff done to make room for art and hope.
Life, it seems, is a work in process.
May you notice whatever works for you in this way and pause a moment to celebrate!
It’s story time! Feel free to curl up with your favorite quilt and a cuppa. Or whatever. This story, like life, wanders a bit. And, it’s one of those stories that is not only true, but actually happened!
First, you need to know that I actually slept last night. In the bed. For about five hours.
This is something of a miracle these days. One of the ways that I know that I slept is that I spent some time wandering around in a Wizard of Oz-like dream in which many things come together from different times and worlds. Things you wouldn’t usually find together, but somehow teach you new things when you notice.
Before we get to the dream, though, you need to know that, historically, I’ve had a very hard time telling right from left.
When I was in tenth grade, I started fainting. A lot. Usually at school. The nurse would call my mother to come get me, though I was generally much better by the time she got there and she’d grumble a bit in that way that made it hard to figure out whether she was mad or worried.
One day, though, I fainted in gym class while I was on the top bar of the uneven parallel bars. I was scared and very grateful for the mats below the bars which preformed admirably and kept me from being truly injured.
About that time, my dad got involved and carted me off to a fancy medical center a couple of hours away for a neurological workup. The eventual conclusion was that I had grown considerably taller, quite quickly, and my circulatory system was having a hard time keeping up. The “answer” involved little red pills I was instructed not to take to school lest someone might want to steal them.
Oh, and there was also the part about the neurologist telling my dad to “teach that kid right from left”!
Now, I may have mentioned before that I never went to Kindergarten, which might explain why I was probably 30 years old before I caught on to the little trick that it is possible to tell which hand is your left because your thumb and first finger make an actual letter “L” when extended just so. (At least possible for lots of people.)
But back to my dream…
I was in a school someplace I didn’t recognize, in a big room with my eighth grade English teacher. We seemed to both be adults, though not quite as adult as we actually are at this point! Despite the absence of bells ringing, groups of students wandered in and out of this magical room, reading poetry and singing and acting like intelligent, capable human beings.
There was also something going on about having a wheel fixed on a very large piece of luggage I was, apparently, taking along on my journey.
Now, as we’ve noted before, the first question of dream interpretation from a depth psych perspective is:
Why is this dreamer dreaming this dream at this time?
Which was exactly the question that got me out of the bed hunting for tea and my laptop about 6:30 this morning.
The answer didn’t take long to appear. You see, I wandered through my studio space on the way to the kitchen and there, like a huge road sign, stood my CODEX painting. (Well, one of them.)
Yesterday was a day for soup and paint and a dear friend. And what we were working on, with our magical paint brushes, was integrating our consciousness.
Old stories and new. Lots of learning from lots of years. Right and left brain access. And appreciation. We actually stated our willingness for anything that was available to be conscious and integrated to be so. (You kinda had to be there… and some of you have been!)
The dream, I think, was a reminder of a moment in my journey where I had a guide who valued both right and left brain work. Creative imagining. And linear, getting it done processing. The linear part, conveniently being the “L” or left part!
Lately, I’ve started using an old hypnosis/NLP trick called anchoring again. When I need to move from creative concept to the step one – step two kind of planning, I do the “L” trick with my left hand and ask for that kind of information. Rather like the favorite quilt and cuppa we began with may be anchors for comfort. Perhaps it sounds bizarre, but it works, which is a good thing because it’s time for the “L” part of a quilt project to begin quickly around here.
Watched over, no doubt, by my CODEX canvas(es) leading me to a place I’ve never been before but is, at the same time, somehow home.
Oh, and the art today is from my Cosmic Smash Book. My very own left hand. Complete with red and purple yarn which is, by the way, also a handy way to tell which is which!
Psssst… In my last post I shared an opportunity to learn from the amazing Shiloh Sophia McCloud about conversing with yourself in ways more likely to get you where you want to go than the ways most of us learned growing up. There’s still time! Tempted??? Click here for more info!
Tomorrow, my son, Dave, is turning 39 years old. This is information I have a bit of trouble processing, but true nonetheless.
We had a rough beginning, he and I. A scary, dangerous birth and some longer range challenges, mostly for Dave. Blessedly, we’re good, now!
One thing I can say with all certainty is that he has been one of my biggest teachers — probably the biggest — in a very, very long line of wise and talented teachers. And I’m grateful!
So, in honor of Dave’s birthday, I’d like to share a special gift with you. An introduction, if you will, to a new teacher who is rocking my world almost as much as Dave did.
Her name is Shiloh Sophia and (if you keep reading) you’ll have a chance to meet her, too! Well, virtually.
Shiloh taught me that I could paint, despite a lifetime of being told I was “not the artistic kid”. She taught me to listen to myself and to work with my Muse and her alter ego, the Critic, who live inside all of us. She taught me about following my sacred work.
And, on Saturday, January 26th, you have a chance to hang out for about an hour and learn from her… for free… at an event called: Seduce the Muse & Tame Your Inner Critic: 3 Experiential Practices to Awaken Hidden Self-Expression
Have you ever wondered what the secret was to healing the voice of the inner critic?
And why what you have been doing may not be working?
Would you be interested in learning more about and experiencing the sought after flow state? It is closer than you think!
Did you know that you can begin to lower stress levels through this one method in 5-7 minutes?
If the inquiries above interest you, read further and I will share with you a special invitation from someone I know, love, work with, and admire to the moon and back:
Dear Journey-ing One,
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to transform your inner critic’s incessant nagging and shaming so that you can hear your own true voice coming through? (The critic’s messaging can impact every single relationship we have, and for most of us, it does.)
You know how it goes – you aren’t good enough… or aren’t worthy… or aren’t lovable. Those are the more obvious jabs. Yet there are much deeper hidden ones that are often so difficult to even identify, because they have become a part of the fabric of who you are. To change those, you need to change the default settings in the brain, body and the heart.
There is a critic cure, and it might not be what you think. Many of us are familiar with that cruel voice within…but how familiar are you with the inner voice of love, curiosity, imagination, and even celebration? Most of us are way less familiar with that one. Turns out there is something very specific we can do to turn that voice on! Shiloh Sophia, has the insight, and you can join her to learn about it: https://shiftnetwork.isrefer.com/go/smp/a18983/
If you’re longing to let go of being so hard on yourself and craving more self-expression and soul-satisfying adventures, then I’m excited to introduce you to my friend and colleague, Shiloh Sophia, a renowned visionary artist and founder of Intentional Creativity®. In her work, she focuses with thousands around the world on freeing self-expression.
On Saturday, January 26, Shiloh will guide you to take your first steps toward freeing your inner self and experiencing more self-expression. Join us here: https://shiftnetwork.isrefer.com/go/smp/a18983/ and take action to quiet the inner critic that keeps you caged. This free video event even has a saucy title – check it out: Seduce the Muse & Tame Your Inner Critic: 3 Experiential Practices to Awaken Hidden Self-Expression.
I know Shiloh Sophia as a teacher and mentor, a sister of spirit, and a tea drinking, chocolate loving force for good in the world. My own experience with Intentional Creativity and Color of Woman has brought me to a place where I feel like I finally have the key to the door I’ve been beating my head against for 30 years… the one marked helping people make the changes they so desire. Here we are on a bridge at Santa Trinita in Florence, Italy.
Usually with Shiloh Sophia and her Muse you will be invited to tea with the great mystery and will need your pen and paper! But don’t worry, this adventure has nothing to do with talent – during the hour we will switch to a view of Shiloh Sophia’s personal studio and she will share experiential processes with you.
Shiloh Sophia lives life as a great adventure, and communicates her philosophy of life through her paintings, poetry and teachings. Her proven methods for “creating with mindfulness” have reached tens of thousands of students, helping them gain the insights needed to unlock the hidden self, heal their stories and move energy that has long been stagnant.
During these insightful 60 minutes with Shiloh Sophia, which includes the mini-workshop and an interview, you’ll discover:
How the inner critic has been with you since childhood and why most of your attempts to break free don’t work
A powerful tool you can use to seduce your critic into being your ally
Where the Muse hides — and how to invite her out… it isn’t what you think
How to listen to the Muse and hear what she’s been wanting to tell you
Experiential practices to awaken your self-expression in a 20-minute mini-workshop
How unleashing your creativity can help you rewire your brain
Don’t miss this opportunity to discover how liberating your creative self can be the missing piece that propels you to take the next step in any area of your life.
Join us for Seduce the Muse & Tame Your Inner Critic: 3 Experiential Practices to Awaken Hidden Self-Expression, and welcome the adventurous Muse into your life to awaken your self-expression!
A downloadable recording will be provided later to all who register, whether or not you listen to the scheduled event.
Here’s a little quote from Shiloh Sophia and one of her paintings, which, if you are familiar with her, you may recognize.
One day you will go to look for something you did not know was lost There will be an urgency to the intangibility, a restlessness will stir your sleep
When you are finally ready to listen to what isn’t being spoken you begin to hear it and feel the pulse A call is heard from the deepest chambers
You will spend the rest of your days Learning to discern this call from all the others in your mind and life This is the call from soul
At times you may wonder why it took you so long You may feel regret, disappointment or even desperation
At other times you may feel in love The romance you have been waiting for is within reach, irony dissolves into enchantment
The sacred relationship where you are seen and heard, yes, the one you imagined you deserved, and doubted you could ever find, is here
You are invited to a dance of seeming paradox A space and place between the worlds where the critic and the muse are holding a party and you are invited, they have called your name
Will you answer?
I’ll be there on Saturday and I hope you will, too. Just in case you can’t, there will be a free replay, as well as an opportunity to work with Shiloh in an upcoming course.
Dave did a great job on his Super Power Self-Portrait. One of his super powers, which may not have made the painting, is making fabulous food. I think he’s getting the ad hoc at home cookbook for his birthday. Thomas Keller is awesome. And, when it comes, literally, to the future of our world, Shiloh is awesome, too.
