Category: Medicine Basket

A huge portion of my childhood was spent in the back of a station wagon, on the way from here to there.

Here was wherever we lived at the time. Six states and at least eight houses by the time I turned eleven.

There was either the next place we were going, or back to visit relatives. Mostly Granny & Grandpa in Minnesota.

Minnesota, you see, has lakes and lakes have fish and fishing was what my dad did on vacation.

Many of those trips happened in the dark of the night, my sister and me (hopefully) sleeping in the back of said station wagon, long before seat belt laws.

They all involved interstate highways… the fastest way to and from Granny & fish.

Boring exits with fast food and cheap gas. And my dad’s motto… “Pee now. We’re not stopping again!”

(Trust me… he was serious!)

So, somewhere in the 1980’s, not too long after it was published, I was pretty amazed at the book, Blue Highways, by William Least Heat-Moon.

It felt like a whole other world!

A world I seem to be exploring again, in these days.

Not through prairies and over mountains, so much, as on an adventure to explore new things.

Choices.

A lot of the exploring is happening in my head, which is – realistically – easier on my knees.

And it doesn’t matter how long it takes or how often I take a break.

It’s a whole lot like learning for the sake of learning instead of learning to pass exams and get degrees.

It feels spacious. Way more than nursing school or seminary.

Conversations about myths and legends. Yes!

Crystals. Essential oils. Local organic food… in my medicine basket… Yes! Yes!

Creating out of what I’m learning. Yes! Yes! Yes!

Honestly, it takes a bit of editing.

Editing filters and strategies.

Editing the way we’ve always done it!

And here’s the surprise for me…

It turns out that it’s all been part of the journey because, now, I know more about how to choose for me.

And that may just be the message of our time!

So… there is a painting calling for the next right thing.

And – gulp! – a book hatching inside.

And some really good smoked salmon in the fridge.

I’m liking the blue highways!

ps… do you hear a new path calling? It might just start HERE!

pps… looking for some inspiration along the way? See “who’s” calling your name at FierceArtWithHeart! Just type in BLUEHIGHWAYS for 15% off the inspirations of your choice! (Great gifts, too!)

Yep! “We keep gettin’ what we’ve got!”

And, it’s a useful strategy if what we’re getting is what we want.

You may have noticed, though, that it doesn’t always work! Here’s an example…

I’ve spent a good bit of my life thinking I was learning new things. And I was. I still am.

Remember back when calculators were new?

And microwaves?

And beepers?

Even antibiotics!

And the world has done a pretty great job of convincing us that new is inherently better than old.

Recently, though, I’ve decided to make intentional space for some old things.

Honestly, it hasn’t been easy.

It’s not as simple as new is good and old is bad.

Old is good and new is bad doesn’t work either.

Instead, we have to make choices. Choices in context. Choices based on what we’re trying to accomplish.

So, I’m celebrating the fact that one of The Legendary Husband’s new health strategies is helping.

And, at the same time, I’m learning really old strategies, like essential oils, to help with some of my challenges.

I’m learning Red Thread Circles even more deeply than before because they help with clarity and connection and community, which are huge needs in this world.

And early this morning, while I was dozing/pondering my hearth tending strategy for #work-in-progress Wednesday, I had an ah-ha moment.

In the world where I grew up – if you ignore Geometry class for the moment – Circle was a word for what church women did with coffee, while men set the budgets and made decisions and, well, preached sermons.

At some level of un-awareness, when I first began to sense a call to ministry, I seem to have left any notion of circle behind.

I traded what felt old for what felt new and brighter and shinier and more powerful.

And now I’m grateful to realize that we need both/and way more than either/or!

We need people – whatever their notion of gender might be – who can be in intentional communities where it’s safe to inquire and share and witness.

And we need people – whatever their notion of gender might be – who who can be in intentional communities tasked to assess and discern and lead.

It’s the feeling that we have to give up one to belong in the other that tears us apart and tragically limits all of us.

Part of living in a both/and world view is claiming our own ability to choose. For ourselves.

And also realizing that others will make different choices for themselves.

It isn’t easy. And, yes, it can be scary.

But, last week, the girls and I held our very own March on Washington. And, yes, I had my Good Trouble button on!

Because the world needs us – people who truly value each other and creating connections – to lead.

If you’re wondering how to move forward, I can help! JUST CLICK HERE … and bring all of you along on the path! Maybe even some red thread, though we can work up to that!

ps… today a new friend gave me an easy opportunity to practice a skill which still feels a bit scary sometimes. So, I’m going to practice again and invite you to come check out all the hope at FierceArtWithHeart! From original art to mugs and posters and archival prints, wander and wonder!

Or the land where your family, your myths, and your legends meet!

Okay, here’s the short version… the being in Grammy Land was delightful.

Well, except for the whole air conditioner initiation!

The getting home bit, way less delightful. Though, I am, indeed, here.

Grandmother Moon, apparently, missed me. She had a whole lot to say this morning!

The story she insists I share will feel familiar to some of you. I’m really hoping you’ll read it either way. You see, I’ve never before shared it in the context of this moment…

This is my re-telling of what I learned as an ancient Sufi teaching story, long, long ago in a hypnotherapy training.

The Wise Old Man at the Top of the Mountain

Once upon a time, a very, very long time ago, there was a farmer. The farmer lived in a small village in a far-away land, near a mountain.

One morning the farmer got up and went out to care for his animals. As he went about his chores, the farmer, who was very poor, noticed that his cow was missing. “Oh, no!” cried the farmer. “Whatever will we do?” The farmer was very upset and he had no idea what to do next. As the day went on, the farmer became even more unhappy. Finally he decided that he had to do something. There was only one thing he could think of to do.

He walked sadly down the little road until it started to lead up the mountain. The farmer climbed and climbed up the mountain. His feet hurt and it was beginning to get cold, but still the farmer climbed. When he got to the top of the mountain, he found a cave where there lived a wise old man.

“Farmer!” called the wise old man, for he was used to having visitors like this. “Come in. Sit by the fire. Have a cup of tea. And tell me what brings you here today.”

The farmer bowed to the wise old man and accepted his cup of tea. And then, with a shaking voice and a tiny tear in his eye, the farmer told the wise old man that his cow was gone. Disappeared.

“How will my family live?” the farmer asked. “We need the cow for milk and to plow our fields. Without her, we will starve.”

The wise old man set his tea down and he began to pull on his long skinny beard with one of his hands, as he looked deep into the farmer’s eyes. “We don’t know,” said the wise old man, “whether this is good news or bad news.”

The farmer leaped up, dropping his tea on the floor. This man wasn’t wise! Clearly losing their cow was terrible news. And off the farmer went, stomping down the mountain and muttering to himself about the crazy old man.

Several days went by. The farmer spent a lot of time telling his neighbors about his trip up the mountain and how strange it was that the old man just said, “We don’t know if this is good news or bad news.”

The next morning the very worried farmer got up and went out to begin his work. There, much to his surprise, was his cow. And not only his cow, but a big, strong bull as well. The farmer was so surprised and so happy that he dropped his tools and went, as fast as he could go, back up the mountain to see the wise old man.

“Come in,” the wise old man greeted him. “Sit down. Have a cup of tea.”

The farmer was so excited he was nearly bursting with his news.

“Tell me what brings you here today,” said the wise old man.

“Well!” said the farmer. “I got up this morning and there was my cow. She came home! And not only that, but there was a beautiful, strong bull in the yard as well! Our family is saved! We’ll be rich!”

The wise old man set his tea down and he began to pull on his long skinny beard with one of his hands as he looked into the farmer’s eyes. “We don’t know,” said the wise old man, “whether this is good news or bad news.”

The farmer had never heard anything so silly in his life! Of course this was good news! And off the farmer went, stomping down the mountain and muttering to himself about the crazy old man.

Some more time passed.

One day, the farmer’s son, who was just learning to use the plow to dig up the earth for planting, hitched the big, strong bull to the plow and began to work. It was a nice, sunny day and the farmer’s son was thinking about many things. Suddenly, a very large bee flew up and stung the bull right on his nose.

Well! The bull bellowed really loudly, as bulls are known to do, and began to run. The farmer’s son wasn’t strong enough to hold on to the plow. He fell over right in the field and heard a loud sound coming from his leg. Suddenly his leg began to hurt more than anything had ever hurt before. All he could do was sit in the dirt and watch as the bull dug up the earth and ran, as fast as he could go, right through the fence and away down the road.

The farmer, who loved his son, heard him crying and went running to see what was wrong. There was his dear son on the ground. The field was destroyed where it was all dug up. The bull had clearly crashed through the fence and run away. The farmer did not know what he and his family would do so he did the first right thing. He went and got the village doctor who came and cared for his son.

The boy’s leg was broken. The doctor tied tree branches to each side of it, as they used to do long ago, and wrapped it tight with some old pieces of cloth. The farmer and the doctor carried the boy to a small porch on the front of their tiny home. The doctor said the boy would have to stay there for many weeks and would not be able to walk.

The farmer was more and more upset. In fact, he was more upset than he’d ever been. Finally, because he didn’t know what else to do, he went and climbed slowly up the mountain.

“Come in,” the wise old man greeted him. “Sit down. Have a cup of tea. Tell me what brings you here today.”

The farmer was so upset he could barely talk. Finally he managed to explain what had happened. His field was ruined. The bull was gone, and with him the plow. And his dear son’s leg was broken and would not heal for many weeks.

The wise old man set his tea down and he began to pull on his long skinny beard with one of his hands, as he looked deep into the farmer’s eyes. “We don’t know,” said the wise old man, “whether this is good news or bad news.”

With that, the farmer flung his tea cup to the ground and went stomping down off the mountain, threatening to tell everyone he knew that the wise old man was not wise at all, but mean and just plain crazy.

The farmer was so angry he could barely do his work. A few days passed as he cared for his son without crutches or wheelchairs or any of the things we might use in our time.

Then, one morning, the farmer woke to all kinds of noise in the village. There were soldiers from far away on the road, with wagons, capturing all the young men of the village to go and fight in a war. People were crying and begging that their sons not be taken.

The farmer’s son couldn’t go, because of his broken leg.

When the soldiers had left the village, the farmer went and fixed tea for his son and himself. And he pulled a bit at his long, skinny beard and said, with a light of understanding in his eye, “We really don’t know, do we? 

(Boardman, Grandmothers Are In Charge Of Hope)

ps… if you’re still reading, thank you! And there’s a prize… help on your path up & down whatever epic mountain you’re facing! Just CLICK HERE!

pps… the featured painting is from my wonder-full wanderings with Maria Yraceburu… my version of up & down the mountain, leaving some old things behind and claiming some new! The story for the painting just below is for another day. Stay tuned!

By the time you read this, I will be safely in Grammy Land!

The Legendary Husband and the big beasties will be home, holding the fort.

For today, though, the list is long. And part of it is kind of a revelation!

Laundry??? Very most favorite paint shirts, leggings, and a bit of BlueFish stuff (also paint spattered) just in case.

The magic denim vest – aka wearable purse – complete with intentionally opinionated, fiercely compassionate buttons.

Two pairs of shoes. One for airport security. One for actual – you know – walking.

More assistive devices than I would choose in fantasy land, but I really, really need to hug my kids!

All the miracles of modern science required to be “gone” for several days.

And enough crucial other stuff to require up-sizing the luggage choice…

Red thread. Anointing essential oils. My collection of crystal and artisan beads, so the girls can teach me to make jewelry. And books, of course. Where the Crawdads Sing, The Book of Love, and something about Jim Henson, with Muppets and art. (Also, there are bookstores there!)

Reliable rumor has it that, in addition to trying out a new recipe from The French Laundry Cookbook, there are lessons in molecular gastronomy awaiting me. (Dave is not so much for making jewelry!)

I have signed a bunch of petitions and emailed a bunch of senators. Mine & the rest of the gang. I imagine you can guess!

The dog food elves delivered last week so canine starvation is unlikely, even though Phoebe would tell you a different story if you asked.

In a lot of ways, things feel chaotic to me.

And, yet, I know an old, old story about the creation which is born in chaos.

Which may just explain why the bubbly, fountain-y sensation inside me feels like progress on my path… my Epic SuperPower Path which seems to be leading me in the direction of becoming my own Medicine Basket! Are you… making progress???

Would you like to make more progress??? I can help! Just click… READY!

ps… in honor of my trip to the D.C. neck of the woods, here’s another opportunity to get your very own “able to choose” tank top! Several colors. Lots of sizes. And still 20% off, along with everything else! But hurry!!! Christmas in July ends Sunday at 11:45pm ET. (Go figure elves!)

My dear friend and mentor, the late Dr. H. Stephen Glenn, was the first one who told me about the rate at which world knowledge doubles.

Nope! Don’t run… this is cool and important!

(First, though, let’s pause long enough for me to admit that I’ve not yet managed to wrap my head around the way one would go about doing the math on such a thing! And, it’s still useful…)

Anyway, as the story – associated with R. Buckminster Fuller – goes, prior to 1900 (CE), human knowledge doubled about every century. Then, by about 1945, it was doubling closer to every 25 years!

Then, by 1982, all human knowledge was doubling every 12 – 13 months.

And, yes, I’m dizzy, too!

I remember a speech during President Obama’s second campaign (2012) in which he said that half of the kids starting kindergarten that year would enter the work force in a job that hadn’t been invented yet!

Time out for mind-boggled!

All of this has to do with a theory called Knowledge Half-Life, which means, as I understand it, the length of time it takes for half the knowledge of a particular area/subject becomes out of date and replaced by new information! (Fritz Machlup)

All of which is to say that facts change all the time!

Think of how much more we know since we started receiving images from the James Webb Space Telescope!!!

Yes, dear hearts, that blows my mind. It also matches my experience!

You may be wondering why this, just now…

Glad you asked!

You see, I’ve been relating to this whole knowledge doubling thing for 40-some years now.

In about the last 72 hours, though, it’s become real for me in a whole new way!

I won’t bore you with all the nitty gritty.

Let’s just say that I discovered that this new knowing bit can work for inside knowing, in the same way that engineers learn new things and our outside toys become obsolete!

Specifically, I’m in the middle of a major revelation about knowing. (And paint!)

The inside kind counts, too! The kind where every cell in your body lights up with something new, which just might be something, well… old!

And, then, if you’re like me, a whole lot of need for new outside knowing appears, too!

Lots of how? stuff. And in what sequence?

Yes, processing is in order. And, it may well feel different!

It also feels, at least for me just now, exciting! (Details to follow…)

For this moment, though, a question…

What old learning might you be holding tight to that isn’t serving you and your journey???

Or, if that’s a scary place to start, how about…

What new learning might you experiment with that might serve you better, now?

Curious???

CLICK HERE, even if it’s scary! Maybe especially if it’s scary! New questions and lots of support…

Why???

The clearer we get on our path, the more we can help!

ps… according to the calendar, it’s almost the end of Christmas in July at FierceArtWithHeart! Someone you know needs a gift that’s hiding here – maybe even you! The elves will be delighted to do the math and take 20% off everything, including super-gift matted art cards by the bundle. Please don’t miss out! (And, for the dedicated explorers… very cool hats!)

Nope! The Legendary Husband has not changed his name!

This is a frequent saying from my Farm Gramma, Elsie.

She was a weaver of stories, many of them about the trouble her five boys were out causing while she and Grampa Frank were sleeping, probably under a quilt like this one, which Elsie pieced.

Legend does not mention whether my Aunt Mary joined in the mischief, but I wouldn’t rule it out!

I never knew Frank. He was killed in a train accident years before I was born. Mostly what I know was that Gramma quit high school, forfeiting her long-promised graduation gift of gold beads, to marry him. And this – the much quoted line from their engagement announcement in the local paper…

Elsie Hanna Royce… is engaged to marry Franklin Cornelius Boardman who is, of all things, a Democrat!

As you might imagine, I’ve been pondering all of this a lot.

So, last night, I wrote about 1,000 words worth of what I’ve been pondering.

And, after that, when me and Bill were home abed… Grandmother Moon, got into the conversation.

After assuring me that all those words worth of writing (and a bit of ranting!) were perceptive – and no doubt helpful to me in the writing – she wondered, gently, if they felt like they’d be as helpful for you as they were for me.

It was a good question!

And there was still time to visit dream-land again, with her shining courageously, even in this waning crescent phase, over the bed.

What came to me was a jigsaw puzzle of wondering.

Had Elsie, perhaps, been trying to pretend she didn’t know what was going on because she didn’t know what to do with it?

And how might we, all these years later, be trying – at whatever level of awareness – to do the same?

And, if so, what is it time for us to see?

Now, please hear me say that the part of me that’s wondering these things isn’t shaming or blaming me or you!

It’s just noticing that, for generation upon generation, part of the survival medicine in our baskets has seemed to be along the lines of not causing trouble or making a fuss.

And, if you’re anything like me, noticing that the time for not making a fuss has come and gone can feel more than a bit terrifying.

Which is about where I woke up for the second time today.

And, I did the usual things…

Tea. Big dogs out and back in. My time for being and learning and praying.

And List Time. You know… crossing things off & adding things on!

And some time to be in circle with friends on the road. Friends who love questions, too. Here are a couple more:

How might it serve you to be awake?

To be less consciously home abed?

To allow yourself to know?

To allow yourself to move in the direction of being fully you?

And what, then, might you do?

It seems entirely likely to me that the answers to what we will do will go down in our personal histories as the Epic SuperPower Paths we walked. And, just in case you’re the type who’d rather not walk alone, I can help! CLICK HERE!

ps… there are fabulous one-of-a-kind purses in Hat Heaven, too! And Christmas in July is running out! Caution, though… as accessories go, these are VERY brave!