As you know, if you’ve been reading along, we moved a lot when I was a kid. According to family gospel, when I learned that we were moving from Cleveland to Pittsburg, I had questions.
Did they have corn on the cob? And, did they have Romper Room?
Assured that they did, I agreed to go. (Yes, you can laugh!)
Miss Whomever must have done her job well for I survived, in our next move, from Pittsburg to St. Louis, a world without Kindergarten.
It’s true. I never went. There wasn’t a public option and the private choices were all filled to their over-running waiting lists.
My mom, who professed to believe I needed a teacher, signed me up for dance lessons. The teacher had royal blue eyeshadow that extended above her eyebrows and she scared me.
Mom, who probably really thought she needed a couple of hours here and there with only one small child to chase, finally relented when I was given a beat up used bicycle, complete with training wheels, and insisted on staying home to ride.
By the time I reached my first day of first grade, complete with painful, slippery new shoes, a plaid dress with a Peter Pan collar from Sears, and a too-short haircut that closely resembled the mixing bowl-on-the-head do’s so popular in those days, I was way past ready to learn!
Sally, Dick, and Jane rocked my world! In a matter of weeks I was ready to make the leap from, “Puff is on TV, ” to the complexity of Betsy & Tacy, eating supper on the bench at the end of their street, while I made up the words I didn’t know.
I have been blessed with much learning to do since then. And, like the artist known as Michaelangelo, I am still learning.
It’s been a big week for learning! I suspect that’s because I spend a great deal of my time hanging out with a tribe of women, connected by a red thread, and bravely learning, too.
You may have heard rumors of my unintended learning experience with an enormous pot of gorgeous bird bones and a stove that quit working during the step of the process known as simmer, with bubbles gently breaking the surface, overnight.
I was heartbroken. And frustrated. Those were lovingly roasted, local chicken and turkey bones, sustainably raised by farmers with whom I’m on hugging terms which, in these days more than ever, isn’t a bad way to get food! At least they were until they became trash.
Enter the need to learn a whole lot about buying a stove, as we own neither microwave, nor toaster oven. Thankfully, I was already in possession of categories for success on that decision and the new, improved version should arrive late this week.
That done, it was back to the business of art. Literally, for I am engaged in several conversations about how to do healing art in the world where we now find ourselves. Here’s a short list of what I know now that I didn’t know before:
How to get the very skippy new email signature in my laptop to also work in my phone.
New uses for adjectives in writing invitations… and ways to decide which ones!
How to get my toys to work together so that I can lead a Zoom workshop demonstrating an art process while still seeing and being seen by others on the journey.
And, possibly best of all for empowering the future, a link between the name my parents gave me all those years ago, and the medicine painting on my easel just now, which looked, in the early phases, like it might have come from Romper Room!
The answer to the tech-y questions is, on the one hand, YouTube videos and, on the other hand, whatever changed inside me such that I believed I could figure it out.
The name thing is a story for a different day.
If you click here, you will be magically transported to the place with the videos mentioned above and a photo of my new tech-y miracles!
For now, I’d love to know what you’re learning in this place we’ve never been before which may actually be the place we’ve always been… a world that changes. There’s a place for comments if you scroll down a ways. I hope you will!
I am reinforcing the boundaries between the world and me. Reminding myself how safe I am. How wise and capable I am at focusing on the good and not the anxiety. Reading Gospel of Mary Magdalene. And another book whose title comforts me: The Wisdom of Not Knowing It is an all encompassing story of ancient people who stumble as much as you and I with a mystic twist
I love reading your blog. Thank you for your writing.
Glad you got a new stove. Sad with you at the failing batch of bone broth. You certainly engage in many opportunities to learn.
Thank you, Dear Frances, for reading and helping to broaden the conversation! I’m glad about the new stove, too. Or will be! And, blessedly, there are more bones in the freezer. Tomorrow, we learn more!!! Hugs, sister…
Hi Sue! What a bummer about the bones and of course your stove! But thankfully you are able to get a new stove and all will be well.
You are such a great writer Sue. I really enjoyed reading the above as well as other things I’ve read that you’ve written.
What I am learning most importantly is that I.C. can help me with my chronic fatigue. I am very excited about this! I finally feel there is hope for me. I am also experiencing the fact that I have so much to contribute to this world ever since I took Hydras Flare. I have remained hidden under that rock where my Mom put me eons ago. But now I am free!! I have emerged and am so beyond grateful for that. I also feel I am a mystic. I’m not bragging it’s just something I understand and I know. You are the first person I have told that too. Can’t wait to hear what your reaction is to that. Will you think I am crazy or bragadocious? Anyhow I will get your book that I forget the name of now. But I am also interested in helping teenagers.
Ok I hope I hear back from you.
Take good care,
Mary Ann
Oh, Mary Ann… I’m so glad you’re here and that IC is helping you body & spirit! And your sharing helped me. I’ve spent some time under a family rock, as well, and your connection of that to the Hydra story is a huge Ah-hah! for me. Thank you!!! And, no, realizing you are a mystic is not crazy or braggadocios… though we’re not opposed to a bit of claiming who we are and what we do around here! The book is called “Grandmothers Are In Charge Of Hope” and there are some perspectives on teenagers in there that could indeed help if you’re interested in working with them. You take good care, too! Sue
Learning still and JOY. It comes just when I need it; it comes when I am sinking in my couch. It is a video of James playing, laughing, loving life❤️🌈
Oh, Kitty… that gives me joy, too, just thinking about it. So many wonders… Love you!
I am navigating living in a home that feels more like a frat house everyday. With 3 young adult grandsons who were just about to launch, and 2 grandsons in Jr. High. All of their schooling has been interrupted. Graduation for 2 of them in question. Part time jobs- two laid off due to Covid-19. One an essential worker at UPS. Drivers training put on hold.
My own tech skills have always been weak but now I am learning to attend Zoom meetings and fill out google document time card. Just getting my unemployment has been a major hurdle, finally getting through to a person on the phone yesterday was a major accomplishment. Looking forward to some financial relief soon.
I love that you are a fiercely compassionate grandmother. That is what drew me to your blog. I have been a grandmother for almost 21 years. Seeing my grandchildren grow into intelligent, kind, compassionate, creative humans that want to make the world a better place is the highlight of my life. Even if it does feel like a frat house at times.
Welcome, dear Sister, to the “sorority” house for way cool Grammies and the occasional very brave Grampy!!! Keep up the amazing work with you and your kids and come hang out when you need a break. I have some Zoom workshop options coming up soon, too. Hugs!!!