Saturday was quite the day! I woke with my whole consciousness dreaming a new world.

Words, of course, for that’s the way dreams work in me. Feelings, too… tears and chills – the important kind. And even a bit of visual awareness. A loaf of bread. Really!

I suspect it had a bit to do with my having watched a replay of Stephen Colbert and Kamala Harris just before bed. You might even say I wandered through the secret door in the back of my own magic wardrobe!

(In case you missed it… here’s a bit of the backstory for later. Please stick with me for now, though!)

The first dream words I recall were these:

Before I built a wall I’d ask to know what I was walling in or walling out, and to whom I was like to give offense... Robert Frost

And then, some more words from back in the day, which went a lot like this…

There is no fence around this table… The Rev. Nibs Stroupe (1987)

Frankly, that one was a bit of a surprise to me – a very new seminary student – the first time I was in the congregation at Oakhurst Presbyterian Church on a Sunday when Communion was being celebrated.

There were no ifs or qualifications in the invitation to that table. Just a preacher speaking on behalf of Yeshua… Come unto me, all you who are tired and heavily laden… and I will give you peace.

You’ve probably guessed that all that scribbling at the top of this page is what happened after the dreaming, while I was sipping my cacao and collagen.

Then, I spent some more time writing, for there are now two books in the hatching phase and I seem to have more stories to tell.

Then, a few more words which may be new to you, even though they’re old for me, and really helpful. Words from Dr. Wade Huie, one of my professors at Columbia Theological Seminary…

If it takes more than 12 minutes, it’s two sermons!

And that means Dr. Seuss, who also made a guest appearance in my dream, will need to wait for more space on another day!

What came next in my day, though, was paint flinging. The kind that involves moving and mark making and not being sure where you’re heading, except that new knowing will be involved.

Then, Michelle Obama and Kamala Harris, preachin’ sense and belonging and hope and mattering… which is a profound change from the guy babbling fascism and hatred and all the people he’s promising to fence out.

Now, I’m not much for math, but the odds are good that, if you’ve been reading along for a while, you’re on team #HarrisWalz.

Just in case, though, that you might be thinking that your voice doesn’t matter, or that somebody will disapprove if you follow your heart, or that “we” don’t vote for ____________’s PLEASE hear me say that your voice DOES matter and it will matter for years and years to come, to all those who come after us.

And our choice really all boils down to this… are we going to vote for the guy who thinks he and his problems are the only things that matter or are we going to vote for a whole tribe of people who think we all matter and that fencing the table of rights, justice, and human value is not what America should be about???

ps… one of the ways we can help our Littles to know that they matter – that they are part of the story – is to read them stories that make room for them. That’s why I wrote A Creation Poem… and you can get copies for your beloved Littles, in stock, now… complete with real, original art, inclusive language, and paper that feels great! (Also, mugs, posters and JIGSAW PUZZLES!!!) Just click the link to be magically transported!

When I was a little kid, I sucked my thumb… much to my parents’ dismay.

Mom tried to bribe me out of it. Dad was more of an ominous outcome sort. You know… everybody will laugh at you and you’ll have crooked teeth forever.

They meant well. It just didn’t feel good, or help much at the time!

Update… I do have crooked teeth which I’d bet is way more of a genetic thing than I could grasp when I was six.

And, I’m eternally grateful that I managed to quit on my own, long before I began scrubbing for the Vet in surgery, while I was in high school.

I still need help coping with anxiety sometimes. Kind of ironically, my hand-washing fetish kind of helps! And so does understanding things like neuro-linguistic processing and prayer dots.

At this particular moment in time, I’m glad to have choices because I am, in fact, pretty anxious about – you know – the future of the world.

You, clever reader, have already guessed that one of those strategies is prayer dots. Or dots of intention. And, I suspect my need for a place to make dots had something to do with my #workinprogress bear insisting on leaving her brown bear costume behind and claiming her inner Panda!

The photo, above, is where we were Tuesday night.

One secret before we go on… dots do not all need to be round!

Here’s where we were this afternoon, after a whole lot of news and ready for a nap…

I’m hearthtending today, in the Red Thread Cafe Classroom and suspect there will be more time for dots along the way. First, though, a moment for the curious counselor who lives inside me.

What if… maybe – just maybe – we helped our Littles learn some things that would help them manage the anxiety that comes naturally from the unknown, without shaming or blaming them for just trying to get through the day?

Some ways to use our feelings to create something em-power-ing where it seemed there was nothing. Kind of an Abracadabra kind of adventure…

That’s how this painting began. A recent booth at a book festival. A blank canvas. And a whole bunch of Littles thrilled to learn that they could think a word and make a dot and get just a bit closer to something they hoped for. And a bunch of open-minded Bigs, willing to learn along beside them.

I know… if you’ve been hanging around more than 10 minutes you’ve probably heard this message before. For me, it’s one of those as many times as it takes kind of things! And, there’s another secret thing hiding there next to the bear!

Yep… Filters!!! The whole pinky-purple, triangle shaped thing is a somewhat gentler representatin of the 2-3 Billion bits of information coming at me, and you, and all of us in any one moment.

And, the making of the dots is one effective strategy for coping with all of that. For me, it goes kind of like this…

A half hour of news.

Then, as many dots as I can make out of a puddle of paint about the size of a quarter. The fingerprint kind are easier on my wrist than the paintbrush kind, and more sensory, too.

And, yes… I’ll probably wear paint clothes with my Good Trouble button when the Legendary Husband and I set out for our hot date to vote on Friday.

My dots, of course, are for Hope! We Fiercely Compassionate Rebel Grandmothers are like that!

ps… one great way to introduce your Littles to the whole dot deal is with their very own copy of A Creation Poem… Just click here to order yours! (And, hurry! The ones in stock ship faster!)

Okay… maybe OFTEN “mattering” takes us out of our comfort zones! And it’s likely that, in these days, you’re having a bit of practice with this, too!

Let’s start by acknowledging that each one of us is carrying a lifetime of surviving around with us and that can get really heavy. Also – sometimes – outdated!

Let’s start at the very beginning. (Which IS a very good place to start!)

Here’s one of my most useful bits of inner luggage, attributed, by one of my favorite teachers, to the ground-breaking healer, Carl Jung.

The first thing we learn is that survival depends on keeping the big people happy.

And, when we’re three weeks old, it’s true.

Part of growing and learning, though, is that other things become true, as well! Largely because CONTEXT changes! (And, yes… I’ve been watching MSNBC again!)

And, we’re not three weeks old anymore! I got a big reminder of that a couple days ago when my son sent me a message asking for a photo of himself before he was two years old, for some work adventure.

And, wow, did I take a big trip down memory lane! Ultimately, this is what I came up with…

My son, and my dad, a very thrilled Grampy! A glimpse my son said he didn’t remember seeing before.

And all of this photo-hunting mission was going on while I was still waiting to hear from family and friends in the path of hurricane Milton… wondering what – and who – would be left.

Blessedly, my Florida tribe is safe and relatively un-scathed. Many more are not.

And I am reminded of the revelation that sometimes keeping the big people happy doesn’t mean what we thought it did, back in the days before we were capable of miracles like abstract thought.

If you’ve been reading along for a bit, you probably know I have a thing about limiting beliefs. And how heavy they can be! They’re also blessedly easy to identify, once you know the secret code! Here you go…

Limiting beliefs most often start this way…

WE Always — or — WE Never…

Are you with me? Here’s one of the ones I was raised with…

WE Always vote Republican!

Once upon a time, it was true. And, now, it is not.

Somewhere, in a jewelry box in Florida, there is a rhinestone pin that spells out IKE from the days when Granny worked for the Minnesota Republican Headquarters. And I’m utterly certain that it was Granny doing the absolute best she knew at the time.

The time, however, has changed. And I am editing the WE Always… bit for me, in my time.

WE Always vote for the candidates who think ALL our Littles – who they are and what they need – matter!

There’s room for a whole lot of us under this tent!

Last night, I worked some more on the painting you glimpsed as we began.

Specifically, I added the round bit of turquoise paint you’ll see, near the center, if you look closely. A symbol of VOICE. (It’s a chakra thing which I find helpful, even if I didn’t learn it in nursing school or seminary!)

And with the paint, I added an intention.

To use MY voice to help protect and heal the world our Littles are inheriting. All of them!

It is my way of walking the Way of Love. And that, dear hearts, is what the red flower in the bottom corner is all about! You see, I’ve learned a lot more about WE than my grandmothers had a chance to learn. And I’m all in!

Sometimes, “mattering” really does take us out of our comfort zones… and that’s where HOPE happens!!!

ps… get your in-stock copies of the book-baby, A Creation Poem… now! Our Littles need to hear that they belong. That they matter. (Just click the title/link to be magically transported!)

pps… yep! I’m goin’ to meddlin’! There’s never been a perfect choice at the polls. There are no perfect humans. But voting for a third party candidate with absolutely no chance of winning, or not voting at all – while it may be tempting – is actually voting for the ones whose vision is “Dictator on day one”. And they’re serious! So, PLEASE, let your voice matter!

Yep! Me, too! Possibly because I’m a word person and they made way more sense to me than – say – physics!

And, yes… most of us have a tendency to like things that feel familiar. Things that help us feel capable.

I’m also fond of an Ericksonian Hypnosis technique called reframing. (Probably because vocabulary is involved!) As I recall, there are 12-step reframes. And 6-step reframes. And my favorites… 1-step reframes.

Last night I dreamed a reframe! One of the really cool ones that feels like it comes with a big gold bow! And it happened – as most everything does – in a particular context. In this case, the context of a whole lot of news and some new actors on the world stage… Helene and Milton.

You see, I come from the place where Milton is headed. I’ve had plenty of storm-generated learning experiences! And, let’s just say that I’ve had several conversations, in the last couple days, about hurricanes and the notion of control not going very well together.

I’ve also learned a new thing from a dear friend named Jenafer Joy.

It involves dreams and, in my case, index cards! The index cards become artifacts of the ah-hah’s in the dreams. Here’s what appeared on my index card, this morning…

I cannot stop the hurricane.

I cannot “should” the world into integrity.

I CAN walk in Fierce Compassion, one wobbly step at a time. And I am!

I can also pick up my favorite gnarly sash brush and show up at my easel to claim and externalize hope in the world with dots. Granted, it won’t stop a hurricane… but the bear appeared, too, standing against adversity! (Really!)

It will keep me on the road. And, as the old saying goes, that ain’t nothin!

Oh! One more big thing… a familiar thing for me, with a whole new ah-hah!

I’m a huge fan of Stephen Colbert’s show. And, exhausted as I was, I tuned in last night because Stephen’s guest was Vice President Kamala Harris. And I learned a new thing…

You see, Ms. Harris – Candidate Harris – explained that one of her favorite books is C. S. Lewis’ The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe.

Personally, I’m more familiar with The Silver Chair, so I fixed myself a cup of cacao & collagen this morning and went on a field trip.

First, a bit of fascinating context! The Chronicles of Narnia were written by a Lewis, a theologian, during World War II, where many children from Europe, including Jewish children, had been sent to shelter in London. Lewis and his friend, J. R. R. Tolkien, were part of a writer’s group called the Inklings who spent their time creating new worlds, with words!

As we pick up the story, the four children have just returned from their first fairy tale adventure through the back of the wardrobe… and are speaking with the Professor about the possibility of other worlds, like the one they just discovered.

But do you really mean, sir… that there could be other worlds – all over the place, just around the corner – like that? Nothing is more probable, said the Professor…

…which feels really huge to me in the context of our battle between worlds, just now!

And there’s another snippet, just after that, which really speaks to me:

But what are we do do? said Susan… My dear young lady, said the Professor… there is one plan which no one has yet suggested and which is well worth trying. We might all try minding our own business.

All of which makes me even more glad to be on team #Momala and #Coach.

May we have ears to hear and courage to explore new worlds! Even in the midst of the storms.

Especially, in the midst of the storms. The storms of all kinds…

ps… it’s time for a magical journey to FierceArtWithHeart, for ways to get copies of A Creation Poem… for yourself & the Littles you love. And, the collection is growing! A poster. A mug. And, very soon, some of the original art from the book will be available, too! Be sure to drop me a line if you’d like your books signed or dedicated! They’re in stock, now!!!

pps… intrigued by the wisdom of Jenafer Joy? She’s always doing utterly amazing new things and you can sign up for her mailing list to be in the know… www.inspiredinquiries.com

ppps… many, many people in my family, going back a couple thousand years, or so, have told fairy tales as a way to invite children, safely, into new possibilities of belonging and hope. May we, like curious Littles, have ears to hear the invitation of our time… to a world where mattering matters and it’s way more about power for than about power over. Amen. Amen. Selah.

The old saying is true… life is for learning! So are book festivals!

And the gold medal goes to The Legendary Husband! I literally couldn’t have done it without him and I’m way past grateful! Let’s just say there was a whole lot of loading & unloading and fixing and learning… and a couple of really uncomfortable chairs!

Tomorrow… physical therapy!

Today… Magic chair. Weighted blanket. Some time with you. And some time with my journal… musing on next right things.

First… signing books is really fun!!! And Littles exclaiming, “Bear, Mommy! Bear!” (Yay, for banner and bear postcards and book marks!)

I also got kissed by lots of dogs! Several of them Service Dogs-in-training.

I met an Intentional Creativity® sister in person! (And, yes… we’re plotting Good Trouble!) I also gave a Good Trouble button to the young man wandering the festival with info on registering to vote!

The best part of all, though, was introducing a bunch of kids – and some brave adults – to the path of dots!

I was intrigued by a hot debate between two siblings in the 4-6 year age range… one was totally in favor of dots inside the lines. The other was team wherever. I suggested that each of them try it both ways to see how it felt. They giggled and made dots. All over the place. Mom cried!

#NOTE – the new adjustable tri-pod easel was not designed for uneven ground and wind! Fortunately, I make a pretty good easel!

And, the Littles come with adults, many of whom now know way more about brain processing and how to help!!! The next step for me is to finish the communal dot painting and get it ready for the lucky winner. Blessedly, I woke with a plan! And, yes, the plan includes more dots! Also, big scary glaze!!!

I even did a dot mini-course for a teacher who works with traumatized immigrant children – many of them from Africa.

And a few copies of my first book, Grandmothers Are in Charge of Hope, found new homes, too… which feels like a big blessing. The world needs all of us!

For this moment, a cup of cacao & collagen. And, quite probably, a nap. Being in charge of hope means taking care of ourselves, too!

ps… stay tuned! Shop elves will be at work on Wednesday, ready to help you get your very own copy of A Creation Poem… It’s not too soon for holiday shopping!!!

pps… another reason for red thread in your medicine basket! You can help your neighbor tie their banner to the booth post so it doesn’t fall on people!