This, in case you’re curious, is a true story. And, perhaps, a bit too much information.

The Muse, however, insists…

I had knee surgery 6 times in 9 years. Along the way, there have been several significant falls and more than a few lower back hissy fits.

Thus, running really isn’t my thing. There are days when walking is not so much my thing.

Frankly, my muscles are extremely well trained in the fine art of holding still. It feels safer.

Except that it isn’t.

In fact, staying still creates all manner of problems of its own.

It’s tempting nonetheless.

Thus, a bit of a Netflix binge, where there are no political ads. Grace and Frankie.

I haven’t made it to the new episode yet. I’ve been wandering along memory lane.

And making notes on a new project.

Anyway… somewhere late in season 5, there are several episodes featuring Robert’s adventures with local theatre and The Man of La Mancha.

Robert, for the uninitiated, is played by my old friend, Martin Sheen, aka Jed Bartlet on The West Wing.

I’ve loved The Man of La Mancha since sometime in the early 70’s when a dear friend played Dulcinea in a local theatre production. And, yes, I do still know all the words to The Impossible Dream.

Now you, dear reader, are perhaps wondering what it is about this story that feels like it needs sharing just now.

Yep. The news.

Specifically an apparently active movement brewing in the US Supreme Court to overturn Roe v Wade, the legislation that made abortion a legal choice, about the same time that I was learning the words to The Impossible Dream.

I found myself scribbling down names as I watched.

Stacey. Raphael. Hank. Nikema. Ted. Lucy. Marcus. Jen. Bee…

Then I realized I was humming as I scribbled.

Humming the tune that goes with the lyrics, to run where the brave dare not go.

There are more names, of course. These are our local team, here in my Atlanta ‘hood.

Plus, me.

Because, even though I don’t run, or march, and I don’t necessarily feel brave, I am choosing fierce.

This Guide Grammy is choosing fierce compassion.

Out loud.

So, once again for the home team, my favorite quote from The West Wing:

Abortion is a tragedy. It should be legal. It should be safe. It should be a whole lot rarer than it is.

– Matt Santos, Democrat for President, season 7

I agree. Absolutely. I even have a plan.

A plan which doesn’t involve power hungry insurrectionists and fascist wannabes opposed to masks and vote counting who think they’ve been appointed by their version of “the almighty” to choose what women can do with their bodies.

This is my plan:

Raise the minimum wage to a living wage. Make college affordable. Increase food, shelter, and healthcare assistance to struggling families. Support high quality daycare, universal pre-K, and family leave. Get serious about prosecuting rapists and domestic abusers.

There’s more, but you see where this is going.

I am – historically – a registered nurse. I have assisted with abortions and with c-sections on teen-aged girls nowhere near ready to be mothers. They all felt tragic.

I am an ordained teaching elder in the Presbyterian Church (USA) who learned, in the first church I served, that if I’m going to stand in the pulpit and say, Nothing can separate us from the love of God which is ours in Christ Jesus, I must also be able to say it to a sobbing young woman facing an abortion decision.

I have 2 granddaughters growing up in this world and I vote.

So, while I’ll skip the marching and the running, I won’t be silent, despite all the reasons so many of us were taught to do just that.

And, if you’re still reading, I hope you’ll run with me, where the brave dare not go.

And use your voice. You matter.

ps… these days I get lots of my news from Stephen Colbert. Last night he brought it, with a lot of help from Jose Andres and Ron Howard and with Jose’s groundbreaking project, World Central Kitchen, and the movie Ron is making to tell the story. Here’s the punch line… “We need full tables more than walls!” wck.org

pps… curious about your Intentional Grandmother Archetype? Click HERE!

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First, true confession…

I was one of those geeks who loved school. (Well, pretty much. The whole math thing really wasn’t my style.)

Some of the stuff I learned actually comes in handy, now and then, all these years later. Especially when the Legendary Husband and I are watching Jeopardy!

Realistically, though, the purpose of learning most of that stuff, back in the day, was getting enough good girl points to move on to learning the next batch of stuff in the next right place.

These days, though, that doesn’t seem like enough.

I want the stuff I’m learning in this moment to actually help me get to where I want to be. To help me do the things that matter, deep in my heart and spirit.

And one of those things that matters, deep in my heart, is helping others to get where they want to be.

Yesterday was a day like that!

A room full of women with hopes and dreams. (Well, a virtual room.)

And a leader, a few blocks farther down the road, with some amazing experiences and insights to share.

This may not make a great deal of sense on the fly, but we spent the better part of 3 hours playing with words. Words on the way to someplace new.

We started with adjectives. Words others used, or might have used, to describe us along the road.

Questions and lists were involved. And more questions and more lists. And a bunch of wondering.

And more other steps, after that.

Some sharing and listening.

In my case, at least, some sketching.

And a whole lot of peering at things with intentionally different perspectives.

The desired outcome of this adventure was to claim, each of us for ourselves, something very like an organizing principle to guide our unique paths into the future.

Or, as I might phrase it, sorting and editing our filters and strategies based on what matters deep inside.

I’ll be pondering this adventure for a while. One thing, though, blew my mind in the best possible way.

Our Guide, Sam Bennett, was sharing an ah-hah which she learned along the way from one of her own teachers.

Are you ready???

Charisma is public self-acceptance!

– Sam Christensen

Which is kind of like the bumper sticker version of so much of what I want to model for my girls… and help others model for their littles.

And, yes, it takes some practice, but knowing what we’re trying to accomplish is a huge first step in the direction of hope-full change.

Or, as my own amazing teacher, Shiloh Sophia McCloud, would say…

I choose to embrace the messy and the marvelous within me. I shall not diminish my light. I shall shine.

-from To Be Glorious in Tea with the Midnight Muse

Just imagine what the future might be like if we all claimed those truths, and a good dose of wonder, not only for ourselves but for the world!

ps… if you haven’t taken the Intentional Grandmothers Archetype Quiz, now would be a great time! It’s free, fast, fun, and wonder-full! And it puts you on the path for more wonders to come!

pss… is there a longed for, not yet clear, path in your future? Let’s chat! The calendar elves will hook you up with 30 minutes, on me!

Have you ever happened on a new perspective while wandering along a familiar path?

It happened for me on Sunday.

Having parked my car, I was headed up the sidewalk to what my kid would have referred to – once upon a time – as the fix hay, known to most of us as the hair salon.

It was a Spring-y sort of day and there were people sitting at picnic tables in front of restaurants along the way.

I immediately noticed a little girl, about 18 months old, in a brightly colored dress, with about a zillion tiny braids in her hair that reminded me of a reverse print of a dandelion in seed.

Then I noticed the woman with her who might have been either Mom or Grammy. I smiled and nodded and then I waved at the baby.

What happened next amazed me, in that nothing happened next.

They both stared at me for a long moment.

Then, the wee one began to look quizzically at her own hand while her grown friend stared at her.

As quite the baby-waving expert, I was perplexed. This did not feel like what usually happens when I wave at babies.

Just then, the woman asked if she might speak with me a moment.

When I assured her her that I was listening, she said, with tears on her cheeks, that she didn’t think anyone had ever waved at the baby before!

And then, as she wiped her eyes, she explained that the baby had been born during Covid and was not well. She was only just beginning to be out and about with her. Then she asked me why I had waved at her.

As I explained gently that it was my own personal plan for peace on Earth, the little one waved back, tentatively, with the palm of her hand toward herself, as babies do, early in their waving careers.

I waved again and, by then, we were all waving.

My new friend asked me about my waving plan.

My theory is that it makes us less other, which just about has to be good for the world.

The next question was, Can anybody join?

When I told her that, of course, if she wanted to be in, she already was, the wee one, having figured out how to wave toward me, burst into giggles.

By the time I headed on down the sidewalk to my appointment, there were tears on my cheeks, too.

And a stunning awareness of how much waving there is to be done in the peculiar context of this moment! Just like my Legendary friend in the painting!

ps… the if you want to be, you already are waving bit totally applies to you, too!

pps… just in case your path for good in the world has parts more complicated than waving, and you could use some help along the way, let’s talk! 30 minutes, on me!

ppps… Daphne has more tank tops! And lots of other cool stuff!

I am still learning!

…widely attributed to the incredible artist of the Italian Renaissance known as Michelangelo.

I don’t have enough glowing adjectives to describe his work as a painter, sculptor, poet.

Mostly, though, I think he was a teller of stories. Stories that mattered a great deal.

And an inspiration for me and for our time.

He lived in a world at war over who got to tell whom what to believe, which feels more and more familiar to me as this century rolls on.

And, no, it’s not new. It just feels – with all of our technology – bigger and closer and harder to ignore than it has to me, before.

Part of that is, of course, my girls.

I remember, when I was the same age Kenzie is now, learning a much more personal, enlivened perspective on the American Revolutionary War from a brave teacher who ventured from retirement-ville Florida, clear to Broadway, and came home with a play called 1776.

Was the play “true”?

Not in the accepted academic sense. No.

Did it leave me with a sense of the real people and the bigger issues involved in that pivotal part of my history? Yes.

It changed history, for me, from a list of dates and names one memorized and regurgitated for an exam if one wanted good grades – and I did – to a new human perspective on actual events, largely recorded by the rich and powerful men who won.

Along with some really fun music!

And, I, like Michaelangelo, am still learning.

One of the biggest things I’m learning is a sense of how much it mattered to those who came before me to choose what they believed. And a great many of them chose dangerously unpopular alternatives to the official stories of their times.

I used to think that we were beyond the time when somebody assumed they got to tell everybody else what to believe.

This does not, however, seem to be the case.

And, frankly, I have moments when I want to just give up. To hide in my house and make dots and only talk to people who think like I do.

But, I can’t. Because I have 2 granddaughters growing up in this world.

It’s pretty scary to realize that I have no idea what choices they’ll face in the next few years.

Here’s what I do know…

I want, with all my heart, for them to know that they get to choose.

What to read. What sports to play. Who to love. What to hold sacred. Who to vote for. (And one of them will be doing just that, sooner than I can wrap my head around!) How to care for their bodies.

And I will love them, still.

So, I will keep learning.

And voting. And writing. And painting. And choosing. And guiding.

If you relate, I hope you’ll hang around. There’s newness afoot! For this moment… two things.

I have room in my world for just a few more individual clients. Grand-Elder types who have more mattering they long to do and are ready for a supportive guide along the way.

If you’re noticing a hmmmmmmmm somewhere deep and real inside, let’s talk! The calendar elves will hook you up with 30 minutes, on me!

If, on the other hand, you’re ready to dip your toe in the pool of modeling lots of learning and choosing, Daphne and I have a suggestion for an addition to your Wonder-Grammy wardrobe! Really!!!

ps… there’s no rule against doing both!!!

pps… the newness afoot? That means sooner is better for putting the calendar elves to work!

Today, I attended a Musea art show.

All of this is going to take a fair bit of explaining. And a trip down memory lane. So, pour yourself a cuppa and bring your filters, if you’re feeling brave. Or even a bit curious.

First… the show. The Mother Tree Collective Exhibition. A partnership between my Intentional Creativity® community and Treesisters, Intl. to plant actual trees in the actual world.

You’ve no doubt seen this painting before. Officially, she’s my first Tree of Life painting. The second-ever painting on my journey. Inspired by a Banyan tree, with her blessing bowl and multitude of prayer dots.

Unofficially, her name is Eve, which traditionally means (full of) life or living.

The painting didn’t actually get selected for the show but Eve came with me to view the hope and wonder of it all.

She’s already accomplished a lot, Eve has, since she came to form, early in 2018. A vivid reminder of my first encounter with the Divine Feminine, though I didn’t know the words yet as a pre-teen summer camper in a Florida state forest.

And, while I didn’t know it when I began the painting, Eve was already helping me get ready for my Fiercely Compassionate Artist painting who was to come soon after.

That was when I first noticed, consciously, that my world was changing. I had no framework for a painting who insisted on a quilt rather than the veil she was “supposed to be” wearing. And one of the pieces in that quilt says, In the image of the Divine, I create.

Which was a pretty big filter shift for me, along the path known as Color of Woman®!

And that reminds me that you may not be quite sure what I mean by the notion of filter.

Here’s the short version, borrowed from a guy named Bill Harris, about 20 years ago.

There’s a huge amount of information coming at us, from the universe, at any given moment. Two to three billion bits, as Bill explained it. (I can’t do the math!)

We, on our best days, can handle about 2 – 3 hundred bits a moment. Which is, at least metaphorically, the reason we all feel the way we do, these days. (Context matters!)

So, we have filters… most of them non-conscious, which decide, as it were, what gets in and what stays out. And the decisions are based on what matches the Map of Reality we have.

Yep. It’s kind of complicated at first glance. Let’s skip along to the good news.

We, with some coaching and practice, can edit our filters and our Map of Reality!

And that editing is exactly what was going on for me, paintbrush in hand, back in 2018 when I claimed the huge notion that lives, inconspicuously, in that colorful quilt. In the image of the Divine, I create.

Many, many, many more bits of information have bombarded my filters since then. And I am editing, still.

Today, I would say, instead, In partnership with the Divine, I create.

And so can we all, if we create with fiercely compassionate intention!

Which leads us to this fabulous act of fierce compassion…

This tartan fabric is being specially created in Scotland, now, to benefit the people of Ukraine!

And, there’s a fiercely compassionate chef named Jose Andres who, along with an amazing team, is feeding the people of Ukraine. Even though one of his kitchens was bombed this week.

And there’s a guy on a mountain in Vermont who writes things I wish I’d thought of. His name is Frederick Buechner. Here’s one for this moment…

The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.

Where is that, for you?

ps… learn more about the gorgeous tartan HERE!

pps… learn more about Jose Andres’ work in Ukraine HERE!

ppps… Eve & I hope you’ll check back for more info on video of the Musea Show. And click HERE for details about helping Treesisters plant trees! It’s a really big deal!!!

pppps… want to talk about what all this might mean on your path? Click HERE and the calendar elves will hook you up with 30 minutes… my gift to you!

I have to admit, I’m kind of missing the Easter basket bit.

Not Peeps – not even a little – and definitely not jelly beans. Dyeing eggs is fun, though, and I’m a fan of really, really good chocolate bunnies.

The kids are far away, however, and the between-ness of Saturday will go on a bit longer, at least in our personal world, as we are wandering in an uncertain land just now.

It’s not unique to us, for sure. Just our turn.

And, it seems to bring up big questions.

For me, one of those questions has to do with the boxes in our brains. It’s a question which has hung with me ever since the winter of 1989, when I visited Hungary with a group of Seminary students and one of our professors.

We had cold feet and odd food and lots of new experiences.

I came home from that trip with all the tidy boxes in my brain jumbled up, over-run with questions. Questions having a great deal to do with vested interest.

And, yes, my inner boxes are in more than a bit of disarray these days, for I am learning more stories.

I’m thankful, all over again, for that trip to Hungary. That trip where I learned that the boxes are just boxes and we get to make choices as we learn more.

Note, dear reader… this is about where I was in this story when I went to bed on Saturday night. Feeling close to “done”. Then, the Muse took over, as she is known to do! So, a bit of a narrative zig for a story I chose a while back and am still choosing every day…

That story began, for me, with a dream, during my Intentional Creativity® Teacher journey known as Color of Woman, in 2018.

Deep in the midst of my Talisman/Artist journey, I dreamed of winged horses. The next morning, curious, I looked up the symbolism and learned of an old legend which holds that…

Once upon a time, quite some time ago, two writers were talking together about the books they were working on.

One of them asked the other about his reference to “winged horses.”

The rather surprising response went something like this: Jesus didn’t come to make people look nice and behave themselves.

Jesus came to make whole new creatures where once there were broken people.

This, many people believe, was a reference to the image in the biblical book, Revelation, of winged horses, like the mythical Pegasus.

Not well-trained regular horses, but whole new creatures.

So, a contemporary glyph for the constellation, Pegasus, by Dennis Moskowitz, which manifested itself in my painting, Winged Horses, when my Prism and Apothecary journeys smashed into each other with a big bang on canvas.

Oh, the legendary writers???

C.S. Lewis speaking with J.R.R. Tolkien. Really!

And, I can see why the Muse insisted on this story in this moment!

The days leading up to the first Easter, I think, must have felt a lot like inner boxes coming apart for a great many people.

And yet, those who followed Yeshua, stayed. Well, some of them. Many of those who did choose to stay, according to stories that you and I might not have learned along the way, were the women.

What, our world is screaming, will we choose, now?

For me, the answers begin and end with Love, with Fierce Compassion, whatever our particular traditions.

If we start there, we can figure the rest out. Together.

ps… just in case your walls could use some inspiration, and perhaps even a winged horse, there are lots of choices at FierceArtWithHeart!

pps… shop soon! Right now, there’s a 20% discount in the Original Paintings and Archival Prints collections. Just enter the code LOVE when you check out!