The funny thing about painting…

I am, by nature, a word person.

The images I create and learn from and marvel at are a whole new language… and a vastly different perspective for me.

And, like a favorite book that says something new every time you read it, they keep teaching me.

This tiny glimpse of a huge painting I learned as Our Lady of Bountiful Earth is one of those which is teaching me, still.

These days, she’s known as In the Beginning. And she sits there on the canvas, in the midst of the mythical Garden, deep in prayer.

Gratitude, certainly.

For family and friends. For time together. For toes in the ocean. For many hands baking pies. For stories. For dreams.

Intercession, as well.

For returning home in the midst of the Georgia Senate run-off. For sanity. For justice. For voice and choice. For the future of our beloved Littles.

For timeless dreams carved in the tree which shelters her… For steadfast love. For remembrance. For creating.

For a world… a planet… able to sustain bountiful life.

The painting is an epic adventure.

Not simply one which ended when it was pronounced good.

An adventure which, if we are paying attention, continues to play out in every moment.

An adventure in which I have a part.

As do you.

And, yes, I believe this with all my Fiercely Compassionate Grandmother’s heart.

Tomorrow, The Legendary Husband and I are going to vote.

And then, the Divine willing, we’ll keep listening. And learning. And working for a world that is bountiful for more and more beings. Instead of fewer and fewer.

Painting will, I am certain, be involved!

Stories, too!

For this moment, though… so be it for you and yours as well.

ps…there’s a big sale happening in the land of FierceArtWithHeart. You’re invited!!!

pps… just in case you, too, are in the midst of the listening, learning, working adventure, and would like some help along the way, I’m here! Just CLICK HERE to get the calendar elves to set you up with a bit of Red Thread time for tea and making plans! (My gift to you!)

What the sign says!

We had a fabulous Thanksgiving holiday with our kids!

Just got a text that they are safely back in Virginia, while we’re camped out one more night, waiting for our flight.

We are sandy and tired and – at least in my case – hobbling a bit more than usual. And already plotting our next adventure!

For tonight, though, it’s modeling time, as I learned it from my friend and teacher, Steve Glenn.

Or, as some of my Southern preacher buddies might frame it, time to walk the talk.

Which is to say that I’m letting the fabulous sign, discovered on our lunch time adventure, do the talking, while I take the rest of this night for a bit of introvert down-time!

For those of you in the USA, I hope your holiday weekend was just what you needed and that you’ve claimed even more things to give thanks for than you imagined.

For the more far-flung among you, it’s still a great time to claim things to give thanks for.

I am thankful for you!!! And for knowing that I can be the REAL me in this place. Out loud!!!

ps… you can, too!

pps… still have questions about what that might look like? I can help! Let’s start here… A few questions. An ah-hah or two. Some time to chat if you’re intrigued. Just click here and you’re on the way…

NEXT STEPS…

Phobia: an extreme or irrational fear of/

…aversion to something.

Also, in my experience, something which gets one shamed, blamed, excluded, or ridiculed by people unafraid of the same thing.

And, yes, I’m channeling my inner counselor/coach!

We talked about phobias a good bit during my Eriksonian Hypnotherapy training adventures. And – actual truth – I was healed of my phobia about bees, wasps, hornets, etc. while watching an ancient, jumpy, black & white video of Uncle Milton processing a fear of similar beast with a long-ago client.

Okay, watching is a bit of an understatement. It was probably more like joining the trance.

In any event, I am now able to greet flying pollinators in the garden and thank them for their work, from a reasonable distance for someone all too conversant with Epi-pens!

I once healed my fear of taking off and landing on plane trips while offering support to a “unaccompanied minor” parked beside me by a concerned flight attendant! Turns out that helping others can help!

The camera phobia has been one of the hardest for me to heal. Possibly since it kicked in long before I reached the abstract thought phase of my journey.

I hated school picture day.

I hated being dressed up in somebody else’s idea of sweet and dragged off to Sears or Penney’s to stand in front of a fake background and look like I was having fun. (I wasn’t!)

But, the world changed… as the world does. And, lately, sharing things that matter deeply to me often involves cameras.

Profile pics. Zoom meetings. Me, with my girls. Even videos.

Today was a day for summoning all my healing!

Yep, I made a video!

Something that matters a great deal, not only to me, but in this world where my girls are growing up. Now.

Support from my beloveds.

A big dog snoring gently on the studio floor.

My choice of wardrobe and background!

And, the best thing I know for getting from where I/you/we are to where we long to be.

The tool I’d choose if I could only choose one for my medicine basket!

And, of course, I’m going to share!

First, there’s editing to do. Blessedly, I have a wizard for that!

Then there’s a big Festival in December. You’ll be invited! (15th-22nd!)

For this moment, a question.

What would you do if you weren’t afraid?

And, yes, I REALLY want to know!

You can leave a comment to this post. Or email me. (suesvoice@gmail.com)

Or, if you haven’t yet, you can ponder SuperPower Paths with me.

Just click HERE to get started. (It’s fast, fun, and free… and there are NO bees.)

I suspect you’ll agree that our medicine baskets could use some upgrading, about now!

If you look closely, you’ll see my busy Weaver Dreamer buddy, Charlotte, in the corner!

ps… one of the things in my medicine basket is prayer dots! You can take some home! These are for hope and healing. Museum quality giclee of The Fiercely Compassionate Grandmother aka The Black Madonna aka my first ever Intentional Creativity® painting!

Once upon a time…

A time so long ago that there are no photos in my phone, I set out on an adventure.

A sailing trip, to be exact.

My first that involved jammies as well as a life jacket!

Technically, it was summer camp for young-ish adults. A week or so, island hopping in the Bahamas.

Two boats. Two certified sailing captains. And the rest of us – the campers – for crew!

It was gorgeous. It was fun. And, it was quite the learning experience in living with others!

A 40-foot Morgan is a treasure, indeed.

And, when you bring your toothbrush for several days with 5 other humans per boat, only one of whom you’ve met before, it gets interesting!

Then add, if you can imagine, a whole lot of versions of the way we’ve always done it!

The engineering student from Purdue who said – literally – “But I’m a guy so I don’t know how to clean a bathroom… you do it!” was particularly memorable!

Let’s just say that my son, in Kindergarten, was a considerably more capable human! And what I learned was to stay on that road… even when it was hard!

Here’s the Cliff Notes version of the trip…

We sailed. We snorkeled. We dodged jelly fish, which was particularly terrifying for me! We sang. We danced. We ate fabulous food. And we pondered faith questions… personal and connectional.

Did I mention that we disagreed?

Then, on our last night, when we had to get the boats back by morning, there came a storm.

No starlight. Waves. Lightning. Wind. The whole deal.

And one of my boatmates and I were steering! Through, I might add, the Bermuda Triangle. On the midnight watch.

Clearly, as you are reading this, we made it. And, I suspect, you’re wondering why this story, now.

The answer is kind of odd. Midterm elections and a painting journey called Vivid!

Well, not them separately so much, as the place where they’ve been crashing into each other inside me.

The photo is, indeed, my Vivid painting-in-progress, resting up after quite a bit of laying it down yesterday.

There’s more, of course, and we’ll get there, soon. (I promise!)

For this moment… somewhere deep inside me, the path is clearer and I am claiming my power. Intentionally.

(Which is a bit different than feeling it, but the place to start is right where we are!)

For now, laundry. Next week, video!!! Let’s just say that it’s a good thing I’ve been layin’ stuff down!

And one more moment for sailing…

Imagine, please, that we’re sitting on the deck of our boat, rocking gently in the waves, and watching a Sunday evening sunset in Nassau harbor. It’s time for some singing.

Miraculously, Joan Baez has joined us! With her guitar and about the closest thing I can imagine to a Statement of Faith for this moment…

The punchline is – as punchlines are – clear to the end!

ps… live big! Put me time on your calendar for December 17 at 2pm ET. And stay tuned… We’re going to unstick some stuck stuff… free!

pps… glorious BLUE wall art for your favorite spot. Or, for a first time voter??? Affordable museum quality art print from an original painting. Yours, at FierceArtWithHeart!

…when the family tree sprouts Saints!

November 1 was a busy day on my magical calendar. The usual batch of meetings, and these notes:

  • The First Day of American Indian Heritage Month.
  • My knee surgeon’s birthday.
  • One week & counting until the official voting day for US Midterm Elections.
  • All Saints’ Day.

Yes… it’s a rather odd collection! Let’s just admit that irony abounds.

If you’ve been hanging around a while, you’ve heard me muse about All Saints Day a time or two.

Don’t go… there’s a surprise this year! One that feels pretty big in my world.

It turns out that one of the people recognized on that holiday we didn’t learn much about in the land of Reformed Theology was my grandmother!

Curious? Me, too!

First, though… the understanding of All Saints Day which has lived in my heart for about 30 years.

I was on campus at Columbia Theological Seminary for a Doctor of Ministry course in doing pre-marital and couples counseling.

Walter Brueggemann was preaching in Chapel. For the first couple of minutes I was a bit perplexed.

I mean… Walter is a renowned Hebrew Bible scholar. Saints seemed a bit off the beaten path.

Then, the punch line…

Saints, Walter said, were all the people who believed for us on days when we couldn’t quite believe for ourselves.

That I understood! There have been quite the tribe of those in my life. I imagine there have been some along your path, too.

Ever since that day, I’ve stopped, each year, to make my list. And, more recently, to add an intention. To be one of those people for others.

Like Steve Glenn’s 1 in 5 people, which, come to think of it, feels pretty timely in this moment!

If a teenaged child has 5 adults who will listen to them, take them seriously, and not shame them or blame them for their questions, that child is practically immune from ever attempting suicide.

It’s a pretty helpful way to live and a really timely way to vote!

Then, digging around in the family tree, I learned a new thing. I suspect it wants to be a story for my girls!

So…

Once upon a time… a long time ago, bedtime stories were often about people called saints.

It seems that one of the saints was my great grandmother, a very, very long time ago, when many of the countries had different names than the ones we learned. Her name was Sainte Begga.

But, before she was a saint, she was a little girl. And then a wife. And then a mom. And a grammy.

She had what we would think of as a very large family. A family which was also well known and powerful.

Eventually, Begga’s husband passed on.

And, because those were very different times, many people tried to convince Begga that she needed to marry someone else who was rich and powerful and would own all her things and make her choices for her.

This did not feel like a good idea to Begga, but the rules were different back then.

We, of course, can’t know all the details of this story from so long ago, but what I learned is that Begga decided to live in community with other thoughtful, spiritual women in a place where she would be able to keep her own things and make her own choices, instead of being forced to marry someone she did not love because, as we might say now, it was good politics.

Begga spent the rest of her life, with all those other women, helping the people she could.

It seems she helped a lot, because important people in her family, and what was known as The Church, honored her by telling her story and naming her as a Saint.

Begga had a daughter named Clotilde who was also named a Saint. She was my great aunt… also a long time ago.

There were more people in Begga’s own family, and we’ll talk about them another day.

There were also more people in Begga’s chosen family. They were called Beguines and there are still some of them in our time, helping people and making their own choices.

One thing you should know is that, depending on who is telling this story, it could sound very different. That’s called perspective.

There’s more, of course, as there almost always is. For now, though, this is what I learned when I wanted to know how one of my very own grammies came to be known as a Saint.

And, on All Saints Day this year, I thanked Grammy-Sainte Begga for believing so hard for all of us who would come after her, all these years later. And I re-claimed a old intention for my own journey…

To keep being one of those 5 people for as many others as I can.

And added a new intention…

To keep living – and voting – like everybody matters and women can make their own choices!

I’m beginning to imagine new ways that might happen. And I have a list of new things to learn, which isn’t really unusual for me.

For now, huge thanks to all the saints along my way! And to you for being brave enough to learn this new story!

ps… planning a wedding? Need some enlightened help? Check out VeryLargeHope!

pps… need a reminder? Daphne has you covered with …able to choose tank tops!

My Mythical Aunt Charlotte!

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!

Hard times…

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.