(Relative) Reality Therapy

I woke, on Saturday morning, to noises coming from the other side of the house.

Plumbing noises.

The kind you don’t want to hear.

I rolled over and tried to ignore those noises. Then I realized that I needed to pee.

Turns out the noises weren’t just coming from the other side of the house. They issued forth from “my” bathroom, too.

Ominous, non-flushing kinds of noises.

So much for sleeping! Investigation was definitely in order.

The Legendary Husband, being less of a mystery novel fan than I, had no clues, despite the high tech portal to the universe in front of his face.

Button pushing was in order.

Rumors of a water main break nearby. No details about when it might be – you know – fixed.

Local tv “news” obsessed with weather and traffic. (On a sunny Saturday morning!) Reports on restaurants having inspection challenges. Something about early MardiGras nearby.

I was aggravated.

No. I take that back. I was pissed.

And, then, the elephant in the news room appeared.

Video of the needless death of Tyree Nichols at the hands of police officers.

Video I haven’t yet watched.

Not because I’m not devastated, but because I am. And I’m overloaded with that these days.

The Atlanta area protests are thus far non-violent. Blessedly.

And, the world is bigger than Atlanta.

The world is also bigger than my local plumbing problems, which are pretty privileged problems when viewed through a global lens.

That’s when the perspective shift happened!

With more than a bit of help from Joan Baez. (It works for me!)

A rendition of The President Sang Amazing Grace let my tears be more for the world than for myself.

And, a few minutes later, God is God.

Sound scary? I get it. And it’s not the only message for this moment, but it’s one that just might be helpful!

After that, I was ready to move on to a bit of coaching for a new artist.

Phoebe’s eye meds. Read that, an occasion for t-r-e-a-t-s. (Newfs really do have big vocabularies!)

And back to the new generation of Grandmother Moon in progress. My own Divine Feminine image. Portable!

A combination of process and perspective which help me go on.

I’m pretty sure the more of us there are on board, the better the grace works for everybody!

ps… why the Joan Baez vibe/obsession??? Assumed it was nostalgia for peace & justice summer camp days in the midst of our current context. Turns out, there’s more! Like the art! And something singer/activist Patti Smith said when presenting Joan with an Amnesty International Ambassador of Conscience award… “If the 16th century had Joan of Arc, we have Joan Baez.” May we have ears to hear!

pps… searching for some new tools for your medicine basket? I can help! Step one: ask the calendar elves to find you 45 minutes to chat. My gift. Red thread and a cuppa could be handy!

Mixed Metaphor Alert!!!

…Or, when shoulding on yourself quits working!

Which is a whole lot like time for the Medicine Basket!

Let’s start with the #work-still-in-progress painting, above. It may feel familiar.

It’s an opinionated project, so far! The working title is Laying it Down…

It as in beliefs which aren’t empowering. And, even in the only begun stage, it’s a great reminder which I’m really glad I had standing by for this last week!

Here’s the thing… we’re not just talking about head-beliefs!

Body and heart beliefs matter, too!

And a whole bunch of mine – all kinds – seem to have gotten riled up since my trip with Luther to the Rainbow Bridge.

As in: I should be able to handle this!

Yesterday’s trip to physical therapy was an intentional exercise in laying a whole bunch of those beliefs down.

We began with some adjustments and instructions for my new strength trainer… aka: rollator walker.

Gulp!!!

It’s not that the mobility thing is suddenly worse, though it’s been a challenge for a while.

Instead, I suddenly need it to be a whole lot better. Less scary. More reliable. (Details, eventually…)

And that kind of need involves a boatload of believing that it can change!

And that involves laying down whatever shoulda-coulda-woulda junk is taking up space where hope could live in my Medicine Basket.

So, a learner’s permit from my friend, the PT!

And, then, some time known as soothing.

Specifically, Craniosacral Therapy.

I can’t explain it… except that it shifts things. (And it’s pretty relaxing!)

Then, home to the place known as the real world.

Chair. Lunch. Really, really dark chocolate. Meetings. The adventurous kind.

You know… out of the box! Most of them having to do with what comes after the laying it down bit.

A good conversation with my kid… the birthday dude.

Then, the apparently misguided notion that I was ready to sleep.

I tried! In fact, I tried until about 2:30 am.

And then, the magic chair. Book. Weighted blanket. And, eventually, sleep.

Complete with dreams about cats! (Go ahead and be surprised… that really doesn’t happen much around here!)

Except that I discovered, while swinging from the branches of my family tree a couple of days ago, a new Great Aunt, many, many generations back. Another of the handful of related Saints nobody ever mentioned. Here’s my favorite photo:

Yep! The Patron Saint of Cats is my Aunt Gertrude! My sister is very excited!!!

Here’s what else I know about Aunt Gert so far… She was born in what is now Belgium, in 626 CE. Like other women in her prominent family, she chose – with her mother’s help – to escape an arranged marriage of the politically and financially beneficial sort, and establish a monastery for women dedicated to living their faith and helping people.

And that tells me that she was also a fan of laying down beliefs which were not empowering!

And it also suggests that some of my tendencies in the same direction just might come from a long line of women who found hope in choosing to fill their Medicine Baskets with tools for change.

At least, that’s what I heard when I woke!

ps… bizarre question! Would you help me with my soul homework??? If yes, please respond to the questions below in the comments or by email… suesvoice@gmail.com Sending huge thanks in advance!!!

Assuming that YOU are ready for some help with your big dreams – your soul homework – Which of these gift-steps feels LEAST terrifying to you??? (Extra thanks for a note about what feels best about your choice!)

  1. An ah-hah, now I know more-type quiz
  2. An on-demand video adventure in perspective shifting
  3. Something I can read, on my own time
  4. Staying stuck

I chose!

Today, I stayed late in the bed. (Well, later than usual!)

Snuggled under the new weighted blanket, which really does seem to help with the sleeping!

Choosing to take care of me.

Tea, later. Time for reading, both fascinating and helpful!

Phone off. And, yes, Joan Baez singing in the background.

Compassion essential oil in the diffuser.

Deeply nourishing comfort food. And some really, really dark chocolate.

Then – you guessed it – dots.

Lots and lots and lots of dots!!!

My #work-in-progress buddy kindly agreed to help.

Call them prayer dots or dots of intention. Call them painting or meditating. Call them a strategy for soothing. Call them whatever works for you.

In my case, they are all of that, plus a fair helping of trauma healing. The place where healing meets neuroplasticity meets art. And a medicine basket essential!

On this day, the dots were tied to my three claimed words for 2023.

Courage. Purpose. Perseverance.

All three primary processing patterns working together by choice. And the dots helped.

You see, yesterday was a very hard day.

It was time for the biggest of the big Studio Angels, Luther, to cross the Rainbow Bridge.

I’m not really up to all the details. Technically, we might say something along the lines of rapid onset dementia.

The part that matters is that he suddenly became confused and lost and scared.

And I promised him, a long time ago, that he didn’t have to feel that way ever again.

I am beyond grateful for our wise and compassionate support system. For the help in setting him free.

Not surprisingly, he is teaching me, still. Predictably, with a question…

What would it take for me to give myself permission to take a whole day for what I need??? No shame. No blame. No guilt. Just love.

And support for my intention…

Courage. Purpose. Perseverance.

I know we’ve talked about words for 2023 before. I don’t know what yours might be, if you’ve claimed some.

What I do know is this…

Moving in the direction of those words – being empowered by them – is going to mean giving ourselves permission to choose what our spirits need. No shame. No blame. No guilt. Just love.

And, just in case you need a reminder now and then, here’s one… from my heart, and Luther’s, to yours.

ps… our wee Studio Angel, Phoebe, is resting and adjusting. Prayers welcome!

pps… we’ll talk more about Purpose soon!

Context… today. Especially!

Sleep came hard last night, which is a story for another day fast approaching.

Eventually I made it to my chair (aka Grammy’s throne!) with my cup of hot water and lemon, as is my habit.

The first job was, as it generally is, sorting dreams from calendar issues.

I was helped along by a question from my magical friend known to most of us as SARK. It began with a statement:

Sundays are about filling your cup so you can love others with the overflow.

Then, the punchline… (Susan’s as fond of questions as I am!)

How are you filling your cup today?

I’m curious, too… what would you say???

My response went a lot like this:

Joan Baez. Shiloh Sophia. Paint.

Now, realistically, my response is a whole lot like that on as many days as I can manage! (And I really don’t think we can over-do the filling our cups and loving others with the overflow bit.)

This, however, is not every day in my world. You see, if you happen to have spent a bunch of years as a preacher-type, as I have, THIS is the day we remember Dr. King – federal holidays, aside.

I also suspect that it’s a day which has gotten more than a few of us in trouble with the Things We Don’t Discuss crowd.

Note: sermons or posts or paintings with titles along the lines of Isaiah and Martin and Gary may not play where you hang out – especially if you suggest boycotting KKK marches – though those creations matter, anyway!

Which is, in some senses, one of the things we were talking about in Shiloh Sophia’s gathering around the Wheel of the Year…Celestial Cycles and Natural Rhythms.

You see, both of these calendar issues have a whole lot to do with language and power and who gets to decide who gets to decide. (Also re-wilding gardens!)

Realistically, they also have to do with something pretty close to throwing the baby out with the bath water! Which is to say, categorically discarding a whole lot of useful, empowering stuff because it grew out of contexts from which we haven’t yet finished learning.

Now, if you’re still reading, please add in or substitute whatever examples work for you.

Here’s something pretty close to the bottom line for me.

We ALL matter. The world we call home matters. Relationships grounded in justice matter. Our intentions matter. And, we are able to choose!

So, out of all of this, in the context of all my world… some overflowing love for you.

The Matrica Bear, in the photo above, says she’s done, for now. With the paint part. (Even though the rest of the painting still needs some help!) It’s time for her to sleep in the fertile darkness, as the Celtic myths go, so that she can emerge in Spring, into the clear light of knowing. May it be so for each of us who are willing.

And, then, Joan…

I know. We’ve done this not to long ago, but she once sang this song for Dr. King and has now graciously agreed to sing it for us!

May whatever touches you here, overflow with love for yourself and others.

And, if you live in the part of the world where the light is now and the darkness is still to come… well, I trust you to knead this into what nurtures you, just as you are!

ps… somedays it takes a tribe to make a blog post and this is one of those! Huge thanks, Joan, Dina, Susan, Shiloh, Jonathan, Lavender Grace and Trish! (Also, Isaiah and Martin and Gary!)

pps… if you haven’t clicked the admittedly annoying pop-up thing to join my mailing list yet, I really hope you will! There’s lots of cool new stuff coming and I don’t want you to miss out! (After you click the first right thing, the elves will send you another right thing to click, too… it matters!) And, just in case you joined a while back and haven’t been getting these posts, I’m hoping you’ll give it another try. The “other” elves still need a bit of training!

Witnessing…

Welcome back to work-in-progress Wednesday.

In this case, a bit more work than usual!

You see, this is one of those times when the Muse is in charge and I’m just holding the brush!

If you’ve been reading along, you may recognize the first layers of #Matrica which has been on my easel since just before the first of the year.

I had a plan.

She had another.

Which is probably just as well, since my world seems to have other plans, too.

Here’s the Readers’ Digest version…

I’m sorting a lot of things just now, needing to make a decision. It’s a decision I’ve needed to make before and it doesn’t get easier.

What is different is that I am.

I’ve learned new things. And walked new paths.

I’ve added some new (or, perhaps, old!) beliefs to my Medicine Basket.

And – surprise! – the context keeps changing, too!

So, I wasn’t all that surprised when a bear insisted on appearing on my canvas.

My dear friend/shima, Maria Yraceburu, told me, a year or so ago, that I am bear clan.

Like so many things in my current world, this is not something we covered in nursing school or seminary!

There’s a lot of info online about animal guides and such. Here’s some of what feels important to me just now:

On a spiritual level, the bear represents the courage to evolve and the ability to be open-minded. In addition, the bear reminds us to trust our instincts and to be protective of our faith…. they also carry the message of the need to retreat so we can recharge, and reminders to be gentle.

Painting the bear has been a whole other adventure!

The photo at the top is where we were shortly before I headed for bed last night. And, yes, she looked a bit like a cross between an otter and a small show dog!

This next pic is from this morning’s first step in editing, also known as the hard part!

The actual decision that some of what has appeared must disappear to make space for new-ness…

Then, a whole lot of experimenting. And squinting. And some phone calls. And some tears.

Here’s where we are, now…

The phase that feels like hope, despite the hours of changes and layers of paint and a chorus or two of, what was I thinking?

Those same hours held some tears and some hard conversations – mostly the internal kind.

And, frankly, nothing has gotten easier!

Except a reminder of the belief that’s under all the other beliefs that hang out in my medicine basket, amidst the brushes and glazes and dreams and a six petaled rose.

There’s more work to do, though she looks a whole lot more like a bear now, and there is wise kindness in her eyes.

I’m hoping we’ll sleep.

ps… need a bit of sorting and stocking help with your medicine basket? Even if you’re not the painting type… I can help! Just let the calendar elves hook you up with 45 minutes, as my gift to you, and we’ll see what next step appears!

pps… she’s going to need a name! Ideas???

A whole new level of #w-i-p!

In the land of Intentional Creativity® it’s work-in-progress Wednesday.

Traditionally, all Wednesdays are #wip days. We share photos and stories of what we’re working on, ask questions, support each other, and get inspired.

Today, our tradition took on a whole new layer of meaning for me.

Given weather fronts and varying joint and muscle issues, I was looking for some work I could do sitting down.

My #Matrica painting volunteered, which was great because the canvas is just the right size for working on my wheel-y table, sitting in my very best chair.

A brain-child of Maestra Shiloh Sophia McCloud, #Matrica has to do with claiming an end to a global age of male domination of the Divine Feminine.

And, yes… I’ve gone to meddlin’! Hang with me, though – you are, indeed, able to choose!

Officially, the adventure began on December 30, with a whole lot about stars and mycelium. (Read that mushrooms!)

I’ve worked in bits and pieces, waiting for the her I knew would appear to begin whispering in my ear.

Then there’s the whole notion of context, which you’ve no doubt noticed is a big thing around here.

Frankly, the current context is a bigger deal for my journey than even I imagined. I’m doing my dead level best here to be neutral when I say that painting #Matrica while watching CNN, at this moment in American history, has been a challenge.

Now, clearly, I could push the button and make CNN disappear, externally. The challenge lies in the inner issues bubbling up for me with my two girls growing up in this world.

Fortunately, there’s plenty of room on my canvas for prayer dots!

The question became what, exactly, to pray.

Obviously, I started with HOPE!

Say the word. Move my hand. See the dot. Hope… hope… hope.

Whole person praying. It really works for me. (Even for the once upon a time scrub nurse who still lurks inside me!)

I needed more help, though, with the specific prayer part!

Index cards were in order. Used ones. Three of them, to be exact. Stashed – intentionally – in a special box, filled with tiny bottles of #RosaMystica essential oils I’ve been journeying with this past year.

It was a new sort of adventure for me, but I was curious, and finding my way until until we got to the part of the path focused on the oil of Compassion.

At that point, I – The Fiercely Compassionate Grandmother – felt lost. I fretted and fumed and, honestly, questioned pretty much everything.

Then, early one morning, Grandmother Moon got chatty.

My way forward, she insisted, was to learn to pray for a particular person who shall remain nameless. One I really didn’t much want to pray for.

And, I did learn. (And wrote what I learned on the index cards I reached for today.)

I won’t bore you – or take away your chance to learn – with the details!

Let’s just say that what I needed, nearly a year ago, to learn to pray for that particular person was exactly what I needed to pray in the context of this day, too.

It’s a little more neurologically complicated than Hope. Dot. Hope. Dot…

My painting and I have made huge progress, though… even though there’s not much to see, yet.

Somewhere, Matrica is smiling.

And I’m pretty sure I’ll survive what’s next on CNN. (Though I wouldn’t turn down some progress there, too!)

Oh! One more thing… that prayer?

I’m pretty sure it’s one all of us could use from time to time.

Which might just be a whole new #w-i-p kind of thing! I’m just sayin’!

ps… yes! There’s still time to get in on the #Matrica video journey! Just click here for instant access! No experience necessary!!!

pps… curious about the oils? That journey starts again, soon. Take a deep breath… and Find out more!

Dreams of feet (!) for the New Year…

Really!!!

The Legendary Husband and I hung in there for the whole ball-dropping & fireworks bit – read that Luther’s last trip out – last night and then headed to bed.

I laughed when I noticed that my feet were splattered in paint (Ultramarine Blue, for the curious!) after an awesome impromptu painting adventure in Zoom-land. (Thank you, Natalie & Gina!!!) All in all, a great wrap-up for 2022!

Then, with a touch of Vision oil on my third eye, I tucked myself in and put Grandmother Moon in charge.

Wow, was she ready for an adventure!

And, yes, I really did dream about feet! (Go ahead and giggle, CTS buddies… there’s more!)

In fact, the first thing I remember, in my dream, is parking a borrowed car on the curved drive in front of Columbia Theological Seminary in November of 1986. It was cold and raining and I had no idea where to go once I had arrived for the prospective student weekend. I cracked the door open, reaching for an umbrella, and put my left foot on the parking lot.

I can still feel the zingy energy that buzzed through my body in that moment, all those years ago.

And then, suddenly, Scotland. 2007. More chilly and damp. And, at the bottom of the steps from the plane, that same foot on the tarmac at the Glasgow airport.

And the same zingy energy.

Then, Grandmother Moon being a rather eccentric Weaver Dreamer, was on to boots. Red leather ones.

And, yes, I’ve been shopping in my imagination.

Eventually I woke, in 2023, and went feeling around on the table for my glasses which, predictably, were perched on the book I’d been reading.

The dreams came flooding back. And it all made sense.

The dreams which were, on one level, past and future.

And the deep voice of a beloved teacher/colleague/friend, complete with a southern accent, echoing in my head…

Three words: Stick with you!

Hang in there… we’ll get back to this!

First, time out for a cuppa, and my all-time favorite dream question.

Why is this dreamer dreaming this dream at this time?

The answer came, complete with the predictable, Duh!

The parking lot/zingy foot adventures were past, assuredly.

The red boots have to do with a big dream for this summer.

And the reminder to stick with me…

Well, it feels a whole lot like a new awareness that it’s all going on now. All part of the path that is the story I am writing – if I choose to be aware of the pen in my hand – with my life.

And, frankly, telling you about this dream feels like a whole lot of showing up!

For now, it reminds me of the stack of seed catalogs in Saturday’s mail.

Reminders of things I know more about now than I did when they were first happening.

Dreams for the future.

The beginnings of a path, not to done, but to growing.

I do have 2 granddaughters growing up in this world…

And, with apologies to the garden guy, no Lantana!

Which is garden code for sticking with me, because no matter how easy it is to grow here, I’m still allergic and I get to choose!

For this moment, thank you for being on the road with me!

My gift for you, as the new year begins, will – hopefully – feel elegant in the way which also means simple.

One question…

What might sticking with you look like???

Huge blessings for 2023!!!

ps… the painting is from my #Matrica work-in-progress, which turns out to be an outstanding fit for this story!

pss… feet might not be such an odd metaphor, afterall!