Category: Medicine Basket

We still lived in St. Louis when I met Charlotte and her web. (Translation… somewhere between what should have been Kindergarten, if there’d been one, and 3rd grade.)

My Mom must have read the book aloud to my sister and me. We did a lot of that!

And, of course, I cried when Wilbur died, despite all Charlotte’s inspired weaving.

Some pig! is, of course, my favorite message. And I remember wondering what it would be like to have somebody say something that enthusiastic about me.

A couple of years ago, more contemporary portraits of Charlotte began appearing in my paintings because (duh!) I was making new steps into the land of sharing what I knew. What I believed.

That’s Charlotte, in the top corner of my Medicine Basket painting!

And, just recently, I’ve been thinking about quilting. The scrappy kind where bits of this and glimpses of that make things that weren’t, before.

Weaving is another way to think about it.

Tiny threads coming together to make things we can see and touch, grown out of learning and experimenting with ancient ways in our times.

There’s been a lot of quilting and weaving going on inside me lately.

Tiny bits of this or that from long ago which didn’t seem like much until they bumped into new bits in this moment.

And some of that newness is beginning to take form in the world around me.

Conversations with a couple of clients this week have been transformed into new insights in the land they’re learning to call Filters.

And, those conversations and insights have also transformed me.

So much so, that I am intentionally taking new steps into the big world with the things that are being woven together in and around me.

One of those things has to do with weddings. As in helping other people hoping to get married in this world, now. There’s more of this to come, but, if you can’t stand the suspense – or know someone who could use some help – click VeryLargeHope.com (And then come back here!)

Another of those things has to do with what I imagined as the book hatching inside me.

It’s been there for a while, though it has recently reached the hopping up & down/keeping me awake stage.

And, that book-in-utero has decided that it actually wants to be a lot like a Red Thread Circle with pages and a cover. (This is exciting, indeed!)

Which kind of brings us back to the whole Filter thing. It’s been a helpful model in my world for years, thanks to a guy named Bill Harris who first introduced me to it.

It has also changed over time, as models have been known to do.

Then, suddenly, that model claimed its place in my Medicine Basket as the winner of the if I only had one tool prize.

So, if you’ve pondered Filters with me before – or if you haven’t yet – let’s do this thing! Here’s how to sign up:

I’m ready!

Charlotte says it’s going to take a lot of us, along the thread, to stay on the road!

For now, though, it’s time to be brave!

Brave enough to claim something we long for. That place where our deep passion and the world’s deep hunger meet (F. Buechner). A thing? An action? A journey? An if only I…

You’re right! It isn’t easy.

It IS a whole lot better than letting fear, or the way we’ve always done it, hold you back. Keep you from dreaming.

And you don’t have to do it alone! Just scroll back up a little bit and click the big “I’m ready!” link. I’ve been there before and I’m glad to go along with you.

ps… in case you might long for a few new tools along the way… from t-shirts to mugs to major inspiration for your walls, come wander through FierceArtWithHeart! The elves have been busy and would be thrilled to help you pack your Medicine Basket!

It’s soundtrack time again.

This morning, I turned on music to paint by but these words insisted on appearing, first!

You know the song!

We’ve all had Hard Times, I suppose.

And, as Joan Baez said, in her 75th birthday concert, may they come again no more...

It’s a beautiful song. And, if it’s actually going to come to life, it needs intention! It needs action.

As I typed, Joan had another song to sing… Swing Low, Sweet Chariot… “This song has a lot of stories that go with it,” said Joan. Like the one where she sang it at Woodstock. And the time she sang it for Dr. King!

Just ponder, for a moment, the context implications! And feel free to hum if you know it!

And wrap your head, if you would, around this wild question…

What if VOICE is a power-full path through, and even out of, hard times!

I has been for me!

It began as I was leaving an early, abusive marriage… learning that it was okay to need help & say so. To get on the path to a better life, for me and for my tiny son.

And it grew as I realized that, You don’t get paid to think! wasn’t just about surgeons & nurses… it was much deeper. Men & women. Powerful & not. Rich & not. And I left, again.

And learned other ways to speak…

Amazingly, to preach. And write. Not for power, but for truth, as near as I can understand it.

And also to guide. My piece of the Red Thread. With voice as the first tool in my Medicine Basket!

For this moment, though, back to the notion of context!

NOW is a time for speaking out. For some of us… walking out… of violence and oppression and power over, rather than power for.

It’s “ironic” that it’s gospel and folk music which feels so needed just now. Imagine… Love, hope, determination, for all the folks!

Roll around in the music if you can… it is the timeless, urgent message for this moment!

Then, go vote, if you haven’t.

And use your voice. Talk with your family and friends about why this matters… and what happens when we let ourselves be coerced into thinking that it doesn’t! Or that we don’t!

It might be scary… and we’re counting on you! Wear a t-shirt. Put up a sign. Make a donation. Do what you can, even though you can’t do it all. And be okay with staying safe!

You matter!

These words, by the way, are me following my own inner direction and voice.

Showing up with a soup pot, if you will… a container for transformation.

My job is to offer the space and the energy… the tools and the recipes… for magic longing to happen.

Your job is to bring where you’ve been, and what you hope for, and even the tiniest sprinkle of willingness to grow. To receive more.

Still wavering??? Here’s the link for the whole concert. Watch. Listen. Feel. (If you’re like me, you’ll need tissues!) And, by all means, sing along! It will help you process the message with all of your being!

Then, go and do as you are led by all that is holy within you!

ps.. want to explore the path with someone who’s been there before? The soup pot is polished and I’ve made room in my coaching calendar for a few new individual clients! Let’s talk… 45 minutes. My gift to you. Just CLICK HERE and the calendar elves will set you up! (A cuppa and a scrap of Red Thread would be handy!)

pps… need a fabulous t-shirt to put on? The Legendary Husband’s got you covered! FierceArtWithHeart.

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!

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!