Actual medicine kinds of things, like more physical therapy… and more dry needles! And hunting up a new eye doc who – you know – takes our insurance! And a bit of a tiff with the pharmacy over a couple of epi-pens. (Still sorting that one, but I am determined!)

Then a whole lot of the more metaphorical kind of medicine.

In order to follow along, you need to know two things.

We have a couple of trips coming up, soon-ish!

And, I have an editing project that came with one of those scary things called deadlines!

So, spells of getting ready sorts of things. Laundry. Hunting for stuff I haven’t needed in quite a while. Asking my feet and knees which pairs of shoes and hiking boots they’re willing to cope with.

And, when I’ve done all of that I can do, the magic chair and actual paper – pages and pages and pages of paper – and red ink. Old fashioned, perhaps, but it works! And my laptop is acting cranky. (Prayers gratefully accepted!)

Fortunately some of the folks who’ve been my imaginary friends since the long gone days of summer camp volunteered to keep me company. I’ve been singing along! (There’s only so much news I can manage!)

Joan Baez, of course. Simon & Garfunkel. Carole King. James Taylor. And, Leonard Cohen, even though I haven’t know him as long!

Somewhere along the line, it was Peter, Paul, & Mary’s turn.

If I Had a Hammer!

And, yes, I really do remember it from summer camp. It was part of my job to know all the words to all the songs! (If you’re not familiar, keep reading!)

And through it all, I was thinking about my dad. And then I noticed that I was chair drumming, as Harry used to do.

Context had surely entered my adventure! Fathers Day. Juneteenth. The voices of all the women whose words I’m witnessing. The news.

My drumming, though was different.

Lacking wooden arms on my magic chair, my lap desk volunteered. Just one hand, instead of the two Harry preferred. (The other one was fiddling with my favorite pen as I read on.)

Perhaps it was the particular chapter I was reading at the time… wise words from my dear friend Betz McKeown. What I noticed was that – even though I was doing many things differently than the ways they lived in my memory – I was still doing what I needed. I was being me!

Which feels like a whole body reminder that we don’t have to imitate others to belong. We can add our own selves. Our own voices!

If I had a song, I’d sing it in the morning

I’d sing it in the evening

All over this world

I’d sing out danger

I’d sing out warning

I’d sing out the love between my brothers and my sisters

A-all over this land…

-Pete Seeger & Lee Hayes

Here’s the question, though…

What song will you sing?

In your way? In this world, now?

Really!!!

Leave me a comment, below. Or email me. suesvoice@gmail.com

The future is counting on us!!!

ps… the medicine basket? It’s not just a metaphor! Mine is full of lots of tools to help you get from here to there. To sing your song. (Well, maybe not literal singing… but the courage to sing, yes!) The calendar elves only have a few spaces at the moment and I’d love to see your name in one of them. 45 min. My gift. Let’s take the next step!

pps… there are LOTS of liberating leggings at FierceArtWithHeart! And the special offer is still going on! Just check out using the magic code BUY 2 – SAVE $8 when you put two pair in your basket. Any size. Any design. They’re all awesome!

It’s luggage & shoes & ancestors… oh, my! (Also, needles!)

And, yes… it’s Work in Progress Wednesday in my world!

I have two trips coming up. One to hug my kids!!! (And practice the logistics for the other trip.)

The other… to the land and history of my deep way-back lineage.

I’m really excited! And more than a bit anxious. You see, it’s also pain flare time and that makes everything harder.

My physical therapy team is on it! There’s this mysterious adventure called dry needling which looks rather like acupuncture, with a different theory behind it. It’s not much fun. And it helps.

So, extra space in the calendar for needles and subsequent feet-up time.

Then there’s the whole packing thing! Like, how I will physically manage what I actually need, especially on the “big” trip.

You’ve met Sarah, the rolling walker thing.

She’s excited!!! And I’m grateful. Also a little concerned about how she’s going to get from here to there with me. Hence, practice! (I am totally a muscle memory kind of learner!)

My knees and feet are insisting on extra help so there’s a stack of hinged and stretchy and squishy things at the ready.

My inner artist is unamused by my current plan to limit her packing to camera, sketch book, and artsy black markers. Only. We’ll see how that goes!

Then, there are the books! The ones related to the ancestors. To the many, many things that they didn’t cover in nursing school or seminary. To the things which are appearing in my paintings. And, no, e-books don’t count for this adventure! (Well, not for me…)

If you get right down to it, this is all just an adventure in living intentionally!

From the why? behind the packing list to the how? which has me hanging with the physical therapists… it’s me being me. On purpose!

Which is exactly what I want to model for my girls!!!

So, necklace with recently collected Saint medals, check!

Epi-pens and inhaler, check!

Laptop… and adapters and … well, duh! (There’s ALWAYS writing to do!)

Even eco-friendly laundry sheets!

And, in the land of Intentional Creativity® … space in my whole being for what I will claim and bring with me to my easel. Legend and Origins are about to begin!

ps… the photo at the top is a very early sketch of my first Legend painting! (@2017/18) I love Legend! Can’t wait to see what this 6th journey brings! Curious???  https://livingyourlegend.com/

pps… the fun just keeps growing in Legging Land! And the special offer has been extended! Buy 2 pairs – any size range! – and save $8.00! There are kids sizes, now, too! (Daphne – who has shorter legs than most of us – is hopeful!!!) All at FierceArtWithHeart! You’ll need the magic code… BUY 2 – SAVE $8

Bernie Sanders was running for President when the first version of this poem appeared in my heart. I had volunteered to help at a rally, held on the campus of Morehouse College, in Atlanta.

Fast forward to this Friday night when Grandmother Moon whispered some updates in my ear. I’ll bet you can guess why! (Sometimes her voice sounds oddly like Bernie’s!)

Grandmothers’ Lament

All over the world, children are crying.

Children dodging bombs in Ukraine.

Children whose homes burned in Canada.

Children shamed and blamed and outcast in America.

All over the world, children are crying.

Children robbed of their families by gun violence.

Children robbed of their health by toxins everywhere.

Children robbed of their identities by false theocracy.

All over the world, children are crying.

How do we shut out their cries?

How do we not act?

Are we heartless?

All over the world, children are crying.

We who do care feel hopeless in many ways.

Rendered voiceless by the power of vested self-interest.

The power of greed.

All over the world, children are crying.

Hungry children.

Homeless children.

Abused, molested, victimized children.

All over the world, children are crying.

It is not our not caring that renders us helpless.

At least not mostly.

And yet we shout, silently, in the face of those who worship power.

All over the world, children are crying.

While the mighty grow rich waging war.

While the mighty grow rich selling influence.

While the mighty grow rich killing the Earth.

All over the world, children are crying.

Let us take our fingers out of our ears.

Let us open our eyes in the light of day.

Let us shout until we cannot be ignored.

All over the world, children are crying.

Let us dare to hear.

Let us dare to hope. Let us dare to act.

Amen. Amen. Selah.

slb 2023

Ironically, perhaps, I was honored to lead a circle Saturday afternoon for women on the journey known as Rosa Mystica. We have spent the last month exploring the holy oil of Compassion.

Interesting timing, given the news! And power-full work!

I’ve gone through a whole bunch of Compassion Oil! And, I’ve come to a new state of being…

Fiercely Intentional Compassion!

I’m not quite sure what that will look like over time. I do know it feels true.

And that’s a start!

So is this… happening on my easel. And my hands. And the bottoms of my feet!

I have 2 granddaughters trying very hard to grow up in this world!

ps… longing for some new tools for your medicine basket? For a Mystic Medicine Woman to help you set aside limiting beliefs on your journey to the place where Frederick Buechner said your great longing and the world’s deep need meet? Let’s talk! My calendar’s a bit crazy at the moment but the elves will hook you up with 45 minutes, my gift, to contemplate making good trouble! Red thread, paper & markers, and a cuppa will be handy!

pps… it’s art-leggings time! Lots of variety… and Pride leggings now available in 5 size ranges! Use code BUY 2 – SAVE $8 for a discount when you choose 2 pairs! There’s FierceArtWithHeart for you and those you love!

(And, yes, Grammy has been watching the news, again!)

I started my day trying really hard not to imagine that one of my personal kids was shot in the street after a graduation ceremony, like the young man in Richmond, Virginia last night. Along with his stepfather.

Which brought back the recent school shootings near Nashville, Tennessee.

And the shootings in Atlanta.

And… well, you get the idea.

These stories are in the top of the box labeled utterly avoidable tragedy in my heart because they all happened in places that exist in my perceived neighborhood.

There was, of course, more news. Pope Francis was having surgery, which seems to have gone well.

Then there was the avalanche of politics. And, yes, I have definite opinions on most of that!

One of those opinions is about the fact that the root of the word politics comes from the Greek for of the people. A notion many folks seem to have lost track of these days!

I drank tea and swore at the tv for a while.

I sketched out a new piece of the making it work better puzzle we’re sorting at our house.

I waded through the swamp of my mailbox, wrote the necessary responses, and cheered on a couple actually helpful local folks.

Then, my magic 15 minutes in a virtual room with a whole gaggle of good people working on things that are important.

All the while, the news was still rumbling around in my head. And my heart.

Clearly, it was time to fish in my Medicine Basket for a new red thread!

And a reminder of the ancient legend that we are all connected, even before we’re born, to the people who will matter in our lives.

When I’m by myself, I always start with all the names that come to my awareness, volunteering to help.

And, yes, my perceived neighborhood gets bigger, every time!

I’m not at all sure how the Pope would feel if he knew he was on my Red Thread, today, but even while he was under general anesthesia, he was reminding me of some more folks on my thread who taught us that the whole world is our neighborhood.

And, yes, the world’s gotten a whole lot bigger than it used to seem.

But, let’s play what if???

What if we lived as if the whole world was our ‘hood? Not in the way the MAGA crowd plays that game, but in the way we made space for it Tuesday afternoon.

You see, it was Mattering Matters time!

A small circle of bright, concerned, artsy-type women with red thread and hope, gathered from Atlanta and North Carolina to the San Francisco Bay area to Nova Scotia, CA.

Part of our conversation had to do with a recent question which formed inside me:

How do we feel FOR other people and not lose the ability to be grateful for what IS good and working in our lives???

The answers are probably going to take a bit more pondering.

For now, though, red thread is a start.

The words we used to close our circle help, too…

I matter. You matter. We matter. Mattering Matters.

You, by the way, matter, too! And Mattering Matters! I’d love to know what lights come on in your head when you make space for this notion! Leave a comment, below, or email me… suesvoice@gmail.com

For now, there’s another meeting about to start and – knowing this crowd – there’s going to be some mattering going on!

ps… the painting is my vision of a whole bunch of women in a red thread circle plotting more ways to matter!

pps… have some mattering ideas? Need some help figuring out how to breathe life into them? I’ve got lots of tools in my medicine basket that can help! Let’s talk. 45 min. My gift. The calendar elves will hook you up!

I never went to Kindergarten.

There wasn’t any where we lived. Well, not in the public school.

I used to imagine what it would be like, back in those days before Sesame Street…

Somehow, it always felt like a place with friends and lots of stories. (And no little sisters to keep out of trouble!)

There were crayons in all the colors and none of them were broken. (Remember, I was imagining.) And, best of all, nobody laughed when you shared your pictures!

I think I have found my way there! And the teacher is my Intentional Creativity® Sister-Friend Jenafer Joy!

We’re exploring issues about home. And believe me, Marie Kondo has nothing on Jena!

I won’t even attempt to tell anyone else’s story… this is mine, so far. I began Friday… and didn’t even have to sit in the corner for being tardy!

There I sat, with my mixed media journal and a stack of magazines and catalogs for collage. Scissors – pointy ones! And some paste.

Imagine a catchy, fast-paced video with music and gentle instructions which translated, in the most basic sense, to making a collage of our home. The heart kind.

My first evening’s work felt stiff and over-thought, possibly because I never went to Kindergarten! It still looks pretty much that way, but it has shifted inside which is, of course, where the magic happens.

I’ve also realized that, when one is pasting, doing the background first might well be helpful!

And, you know what? I’m having a blast!

Somewhere during the second round of pasting, just after a bit of paint dripping on another project, I became conscious of the fact that I had moved – emotionally – a while back.

Moved to a house where the homeowners’ association does not object to the yard sign which reads:

Compassion Lives Here…

Moved to a place place where the goal is not to look alike, think alike, believe alike, love alike.

Please hear me say that I am hugely thankful for having a house. The actual, practical kind.

I’m also hugely thankful for this awareness of claiming the new space which has been becoming in my heart… at least since the days when my girls were born.

The word-person who lives inside me is thrilled that there are poems which go along with the pasting. Haiku. This is one of mine…

Compassion lives here

Curling outwards from my heart

Ancestor wisdom

I have no idea what comes next, but I am curious. And walking the Way of Love.

ps… walking, too??? Two new styles of capri leggings, ready for your next adventure! Start here, and wander!!! (One style has a secret code!!!)

Or… when the news is too much!

The passing of the iconic Tina Turner tugged at my heart.

The election lunacy was way more than I needed. Even after switching news channels. (Permanently!)

The battles over gun rights/safety/legislation – on the first anniversary of the tragic school shooting in Uvalde, Texas – made me weep. Again.

The banning of Amanda Gorman’s inaugural poem, The Hill We Climb, in a Florida school district was a bridge too far.

I want to bury myself in reruns of The West Wing and eat all 17 bars of Endangered Species 88% cacao chocolate in my pantry.

I want to erase the chapter I wrote for a book full of women’s voices telling deeply personal tales of transformation and hope.

I want to go hug Minnie Mouse.

I want – most of all – to hug my granddaughters.

And that’s where the challenge lives.

You know this… I have 2 granddaughters growing up in this world.

And, so, I am writing these words.

I’ve already filled up my corner of Facebook with thanks to the Sister Senators in South Carolina, speaking out for women’s rights.

I’ve shared a couple of I signed, you can, too… petitions.

I filled out an online survey from Our Revolution that actually asked for my thoughts… not my money.

I phoned a friend for a reality check.

And then I went back to work. Because… I have 2 granddaughters growing up in this world.

That sentence is all my INTENTIONS rolled into one!

Which brings me to a question.

What matters that much to you?

What makes going on and speaking out and signing your name important?

Please don’t say that those things don’t matter!

I totally hear feeling it in the moment…

And, it’s the only way things change.

I don’t know if there’s ever been a time when it mattered this much for people like you and me to show up.

I do know it matters now.

And we don’t have to agree about everything.

We do need to make space for other people to have other ideas.

And we need to insist on leaders who can do the same.

Leaders who can act for real people with real needs… like all of our kids!

So, I’m going to get myself together, and follow Amanda Gorman up The Hill We Climb:

…We are striving to forge our union with purpose.
To compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters and conditions of man.
And so we lift our gaze, not to what stands between us, but what stands before us.
We close the divide because we know to put our future first, we must first put our differences aside.
We lay down our arms so we can reach out our arms to one another.
We seek harm to none and harmony for all.
Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true.
That even as we grieved, we grew.
That even as we hurt, we hoped.
That even as we tired, we tried.
That we’ll forever be tied together, victorious.
Not because we will never again know defeat, but because we will never again sow division...

Amen. Amen. Selah.

ps… the painting is a close up of In the Beginning, a Red Madonna adventure from 2020-ish, who surprises me, still! May we have eyes to see and ears to hear and hope to create a bountiful world for all!