Time Travel… Past & Future!

Are you ready for an adventure?

We’re going time traveling! (Never mind, for a moment, notions of physics and philosophy which suggest that past, present, and future are all present now and now is what there is.)

We’ll begin with a quote from a book that is an old friend of mine:

A man and wife are one person in law; the wife loses all her rights as a single woman, and her existence is entirely absorbed in that of her husband. He is civilly responsible for her acts, she lives under his protection or cover, and her condition is called coverture.

A woman’s body belongs to her husband; she is in his custody, and he can enforce his right by a writ of habeas corpus.

What was her personal property before marriage, such as money in hand, money at the bank, jewels, household goods, clothes, etc., becomes absolutely her husband’s, and he may assign or dispose of them at his pleasure whether he and his wife live together or not.

A wife’s chattels real (i.e., estates) become her husband’s.

Neither the Courts of Common law nor Equity have any direct power to oblige a man to support his wife…

The legal custody of children belongs to the father. During the life-time of a sane father, the mother has no rights over her children, except limited power over infants, and the father may take them from her and dispose of them as he sees fit.

A married woman cannot sue or be sued for contracts — nor can she enter into contracts except as an agent of her husband; that is to say, her word alone is not binding in law…

A husband and wife cannot be found guilty of conspiracy, as that offence cannot be committed unless there are two persons.

Which, depending on where you are and how you got there, may explain a lot!

Now, a couple of questions.

What did you notice as you read? What did you wonder?

I’m betting that one of the things you’re wondering about is the source of this quote. I learned it from Carolyn Heilbrun’s magnificent book, Writing A Woman’s Life. The quote itself is from a pamphlet, Married Women and the Law by Barbara Leigh Smith Bodichon in the USA, 1854.

It’s true that many of us are in a different place, today.

But, just in case you think we haven’t quite made it to the world we’d like our granddaughters to grow up in… or our grandsons, for that matter… what, then, do we do?

According to Professor Heilbrun, we need to “write” new stories about women’s lives.

Thus, we’re traveling toward the Future which is, in language and people I’m only beginning to know, already possible.

In fact, I have a flock of new friends working together on moving toward what our fearless leader, Julie Steelman, refers to as Financial Sovereignty. And, yes, I’m in a new class! It’s called Blossom and Roar.

We’ve only just begun and yet the connections and ironies are firing in my head a mile a minute.

I’m learning to ask different questions about money than the ones history has deposited deep within the consciousness of many women, even women of privilege, who grew up in families who lived in the days when  Bodichon was painting a word picture of life in the USA.

I’m learning new definitions for corporate financial buzz words that never really worked for me.

And, I’m stunned, in light of recent media attention on child sexual abuse and trafficking, by the materialization of the movie, Pretty Woman, somewhere in my cable TV universe last night, while I was busy pondering these words. Suddenly, a film I’ve appreciated for years, mostly for the journey and also for the final line, feels profoundly more important in the sense of things that need to be conscious.

So why all this today?

Well, because I have two granddaughters growing up in this world. Because it matters. And because the way to change things is to gather together and talk about them and allow them to be conscious. And to set aside any  notions we might be harboring that it’s just too hard or we don’t get it.

And to vote. (Painting helps, too!)

I’ll admit that these thoughts are a bit babbly and not fully processed at the moment, rather like the glimpse of my CODEX painting, above, but thanks for being here anyway! And, for this moment, a slightly edited reminder from my hypnosis training:

Take a deep breath. Wiggle your fingers and toes. Shake off the journeys, keeping only what’s helpful. Come back to where you are and be with you!

 

 

 

 

 

Old Stories, Trees, and Hope!

Remember, for a moment, learning to ride a bike. Probably your story includes an adult with lots of advice. It might go something like this…

There you are on the bike, perhaps without training wheels for the first time.

Probably, as you’re reading this, without a helmet. (So glad we know better, now!)

In my case, on a suburban street, somewhere in the midwestern USA. (Please feel free to substitute accordingly!)

So, kid, bike, driveway, and the concerned adult mentioned above.

You set off, wobbly and, perhaps, more than a little anxious, with the concerned adult jogging along, holding onto the back of the bike, who finally lets go.

Your plan is to proceed down the driveway, turn at the sidewalk and make your way in triumph next door to show your friend how empowered you’ve just become.

One tiny problem. The concerned adult, who is totally focused on the very large tree off to the side of the driveway.

(Nevermind that the tree has been standing very still, just there, for 80 or 100 years!)

“Watch out for the tree,” yells the concerned adult. About 8 times.

And, you, finally liberated, in an entirely predictable fashion, smash your precious bike right into the tree.

Or, as some of my meditation friends would say, Where the attention goes, the energy flows

Which is to say, that if you’re totally focused on the tree, you’re probably going to hit it.

Now, I’ve known this story for years, in its therapeutic sense. Focus your attention on what you want, as opposed to what you don’t want.

Frankly, it’s harder than it sounds.

And, just between us, I’ve been having a bit of a cosmic reminder lately. You see, lately I’ve been focused, not for the first time, on Don’t be in pain! 

There are lots of reasons for that.

Frequent flyer miles with the knee surgeon. A couple of falls that weren’t quite serious but came pretty close. Some losses in my life. More than my average amount of stress, lately. And a bit of fear, here and there.

And, you guessed it, I hit the tree. Anxiety. Difficult dreams. Trouble sleeping. The kind of loss of strength that comes from the notion that being still is being safe.

Frankly, it hasn’t been working very well.

So, I’m making a different choice. A choice I’m calling, with thanks to the amazing Susan Ariel Rainbow Kennedy, Radical Self Care.

A choice like this takes a bit of preparation.

A bit of inspiring reading. Some pantry weeding. An uncomfortable amount of self-disclosure and asking for support. And, a bit of shopping. Organic fennel tea, local grass-fed soup bones, and my most essential colors of paint, along with a painting called Apothecary.

I begin, officially, a week from today.

Except for the fact that I’ve actually already begun. You see, my eyes are already on my friend’s driveway, instead of the big, scary tree.

I’m headed for where I want to be instead of where I don’t.

It won’t necessarily be an easy trip, especially the part that involves NO dairy or wheat for at least 2 weeks.

Today, though, when we had lunch at Stiles Fish Camp in Ponce City Market, after picking up a couple of my paintings from their adventure with the magical scanning machine, I practiced eating fabulous oysters without crackers!

(This is not something that we folks raised in Florida are accustomed to, but it actually worked!)

And, I have granddaughters watching. And paintings to paint. And prayer dots to make. And hope to share. So, eyes on where I want to be!

May it be so for you, as well.

What goes around…

The magic streaming radio in my head woke up playing Chicago’s Old Days this morning!

It wasn’t really much of a surprise for this is a (mostly) good times I remember season for me. You see, 32 years ago this week, I started Greek School at Columbia Theological Seminary, just down the road in Decatur, Georgia.

I began equipped with a good knowledge of English, enough rusty high school Spanish to introduce myself, find the bathroom, and say good night, an especially useful phrase when I worked in surgery, and a bit of American Sign Language, mostly of the pre-school and 4-letter word varieties.

Also, a 7 year-old son.

New place. New community. New neighbors. New traditions. Not to mention a new ancient language.

Just between us, the first couple of weeks were a real stretch. Not only was I NOT getting the hang of the Greek verbs, but I had babysitter challenges and a kid with strep throat and new doctor challenges. Oh, and a trip to the ER with a neighbor kid who was riding her bike without a helmet.

Then, on the morning after our first quiz, which had done nothing to ease my growing anxiety, the lights came on for me.

The word was blepo which is Greek for “I see.” And suddenly, I did! Here was a word I knew. A word I connected with. You see, blepo is used in the names of several eye surgery procedures. Suddenly, I had a friend.

A couple of days later, I looked around my kitchen in The Village and realized that I was handing out cookies to kids in 5 different languages, 4 of which I didn’t speak, and it was all working!

No Greek School this summer. Just a painting journey that reminds me a lot of those particular old days. (Don’t even ask me about Hebrew!)

Along with a big canvas and my favorite squirt bottle, this journey came equipped with a 2 page long vocabulary list.

Things like Apothecary, quantum super position, imaginal framework, curious observer, and creative composting. Also, my favorite, biophotons!

(Spelling doesn’t count!)

The painting, above, is a whole bunch of the first “day’s” work, which probably took me about 3. One of my friends responded, understandably, with, “Cool! What is it?”

Well, in the Intentional Creativity ® universe, it’s a path along the road to turning tragedies into remedies. To releasing the things that hold us back from the future we wish to move toward.

Once again, I see! And I can’t wait to see what comes next!

Who knew watching paint drip, and not trying to control it, could be so empowering???

I suspect those cookie munching kids in my kitchen all those years ago would have been pretty good at the paint drip thing, too. I’m just glad I’m coming around now!

It’s Work in Progress Wednesday!

It’s a tradition, in the land of Intentional Creativity, that Wednesdays are Work in Progress (WIP) days. It’s a day for posting pictures of what we of artists are working on, along with reflections and, sometimes, puzzles.

As one of my paint sisters observed, not too long ago, “I am my work in progress”.

Wow, am I feeling that!

It seems to be the season around here for all kinds of puzzles.

How to get back to something resembling “normal” after my fall and Luther’s recovery from surgery.

How to re-claim the self-nurturing and care that kind of fell by the wayside during those weeks.

How to re-claim the strength lost in day after day of being still and trying, at some level of consciousness, to hold the peace. (And the pieces together!) It’s rather like having been sick in bed and discovering that it doesn’t take long to lose strength and energy formerly taken for granted.

How to adapt to the likelihood that “normal” is about to get different, again, and will predictably involve some changes.

That’s where my CODEX painting comes in. Nicknamed Grandmother Moon, she chose for her symbol of consciousness, at the end of Moon 8, the series of golden triangles which seem to be springing from her forehead.

The golden triangles have been showing up since my very first painting. They don’t appear everywhere, though they seem to show up in times of change which makes sense as the Greek letter delta, which is in the form of a triangle, is common in math and science as a symbol for change. Or, in my case, as a willingness to be changed.

Grandmother Moon also insisted on a winged visionary eye stitched with the legendary red thread which people have believed, throughout time, connects us, perhaps with people we were destined to know, rather like the web of life which forms our world.

IMG_5316As for me, I’m tending. The garden this morning. Paint drips a bit later. Me, as often as possible. A combination of intention and attention. Which is, when you think about it, not a bad way to deal with change. (Just in case you might have some, too!)

ps… While I was tending and taking pics in the garden this morning, our new neighbor, the falcon, swooped low and flew right past me. Breathtaking! And the symbolism is a wonder, too. Victory. Success. Rising above challenging structures. Wisdom. Vision. Protection. Must be a friend of Grandmother Moon!!!

 

 

 

 

 

I am still learning…………..

The 4-footed teachers have been in full form!

Luther, of course, has been the most obvious. Watching him heal, physically, from his eye surgery has been a wonder in itself. I’ve actually been able to watch his energy field come back online after all the anesthesia and the post-op meds. This big guy has been blind for a while but he temporarily lost his navigational radar.

It was all hands on deck to keep him from bumping his face until he was healed enough for the sutures to come out. I spent two weeks with a 140 pound dog literally tied to my arm, to keep him safe.

Today, he can make it out to the yard and back, safely. He’s re-negotiating his paths through the house, learning to feel gently with his nose for doorways and to pay attention to different floor mats to know where he is.

We’ve started some new walking training and directional cues to help and, blessedly, they are.

Sarah and Phoebe, meanwhile, have been in varying stages of regression. Sarah is bossy and needy and in my face, afraid, I suspect, that Luther will get most of the attention forever. She is, in some ways, assisting my inner critic in whispering messages of blame and inadequacy in my ear.

Meanwhile, Phoebe seems to have decided that, since the pattern disintegrated utterly for a few days, she is free to comply with or ignore the suggestions known in dog obedience land as commands, according to her mood.

I get it. Everything I’ve learned about sleeping in the dark with no electronics, eating real food, and believing in my ability to cope has gone astray.

IMG_5303I’m way beyond grateful that my inner Observer is also whispering in my ear.

One of the things that she’s whispering may have come from my old friend, Steve Glenn. Pardon the redundancy if you’ve read this recently, but it’s really helpful and deserves a re-run.

There’s no such thing as failure. Only experience to be learned from. 

This, I’ve been reminded, is something we can’t teach our kids unless we, like Luther, learn to use it as a compass with which to navigate our own worlds.

So, the numbing TV, which wasn’t working for any of us and only added to the stress, has been switched out (mainly) for coloring.

The amazing Shiloh Sophia recently posted a documented medical article claiming that 5 minutes of coloring would interrupt the body’s stress response.

I already had the pencils and markers so I stocked up on coloring books. Mainly Mandalas and Shiloh’s divine feminine images. I’ve colored enough to wallpaper a good sized room and it helps. It was an easy something I could change in the midst of a bunch of stuff I couldn’t.

And, I re-examined my food issues.

Once again, Michael Pollan to the rescue.

Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.

This is a system I can manage. (And remember!) It’s also a system I believe in.

Blessedly, lots of those plants are growing in my garden right now, since leaving home is still a bit complicated.

And tomorrow, I suspect, will bring its own challenges. I trust, though, that my 4-footed teachers and my inner Observer will still be there, shining light on the path.

 

 

 

 

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Lunch Menu: Celebration & Comfort!

Yesterday, a dear friend came to remove Luther’s sutures after his eye surgery, and to paint for a bit. (We’re working on our CODEX paintings. Moon 7.)

I fixed lunch. The intention… celebration and comfort for body, mind, and spirit.

The menu tended in the direction of rustic elegance.

First, soup. I began with a quart of homemade broth. In this case, grass-fed, local beef broth, FodMap diet style which means no onions, no garlic, and limits on certain veg.

You can begin with whatever you have and trust, avoiding, I sincerely hope, the stuff in cans. Veg broth, chicken, pork, even seafood broth all work nicely! Or, for super simple, organic freeze dried mushrooms soaked in hot water until the color of strong tea and drained well through cheesecloth or a coffee filter. (Not FodMap.) Use resulting broth then save mushrooms to add to soup.

After thawing the broth overnight in the fridge, I steeped it, partially covered, for a couple of hours, simmering gently, rather like tea, with 4 or 5 organic star anise pods, an organic cinnamon stick, about 1/3 of a warm but not hot dried pepper, 2 fresh bay leaves, and a small bundle of thyme and rosemary from the garden. This left me with a broth tending in the direction of Asian flavors.

About half a shot of cognac would not be amiss during the simmering process.

About an hour before lunch, I finely chopped a small organic fennel bulb and the stems of a bundle of organic Italian (flat leaf) parsley and added them to the steaming broth.

Meanwhile I heated some previously cooked organic brown rice in the oven. Brown rice ramen noodles work well, too, but we were out.

Then, back outside, just before serving, for the first batch of organic arugula from the garden. A quick rinse and a fine chop later, it was time to dish up the soup, after a moment to scoop all the herbs and spices out of the pot.

Brown rice in the bottom of each bowl. Chopped, raw arugula on top of that. Broth, with added fennel and parsley, ladled generously over all.

Season to taste with good natural sea salt, freshly ground mixed pepper corns, and a gentle drizzle of organic garlic olive oil which works even for most FodMap friends.

I served the soup with sides of perfectly ripe organic avocado, topped with a smidge of fruity Italian olive oil, and salt & pepper, along with some organic local sourdough crackers. Nuts would add some extra protein.

You can do the same thing with the ingredients you love, enhanced but not buried by the flavors that work for you and whatever’s great in the garden. Or farmers market.

IMG_5299Yes, it’s easier if you happen to have a freezer full of really good broth. And it took a bit of clock time, but very little effort, to fix. Check locally and online for high quality broth which you can find in shelf stable boxes or, especially in the case of seafood broth, frozen and delivered to your door. Yum!

Or, if you happen to have an InstantPot, learn a super simple broth process soon. You’ll be several steps closer to your version of comfort, healing, celebration… whatever you’re hoping for from lunch.

No dessert needed, especially if you have time to paint!

My wish for you this day is inspiration…

 

With Hope on Mothers Day!

As many of you know, it’s been quite the week in post-op puppy nurse land!

Luther is healing well which is great because I’m pretty close to wiped out. I’m thinking of having my mail forwarded to the magic chair where I’m pretty much living at the moment.

In an effort, perhaps, to channel my early years, there has been a lot of Grey’s Anatomy going on.

One episode in particular hit home for me just now.

An explosion, thought to be a bomb, happens at a shopping mall. Many people, including a number of children, are injured.

One of the ER docs, a young woman who is pregnant, reacts with tremendous fear and wonders over and over how to bring a baby into a world where such a thing is possible.

Her mother-in-law, a woman more given to snapping orders than to extending comfort, offers a surprisingly profound response:

Raise your babies well. This is how the world changes. 

The obvious question, especially as the American Mothers Day holiday dawns, is “How?”

Allowing that we must each find our own answers, I’d like to offer a framework that has been hugely helpful in my journey. It comes from the late Dr. H. Stephen Glenn, whose work, Developing Capable People, I first encountered when my own baby was four years old.

According to Steve, much of parenting (and grandparenting) comes from helping kids to believe three things:

I am capable.

I contribute in meaningful ways and I am genuinely needed.

I can influence what happens to me. 

Raising Self-Reliant Children In A Self-Indulgent World, p. 49

I believe!

In fact, I know. And it isn’t easy. It involves ditching our societal obsession with success and claiming the amazing possibility that there’s no such thing as failure. Only experience to be learned from. 

Kind of like acrylic paint!

Here’s the catch.

In order for our kids to learn these amazing truths, we have to at least experiment with believing them ourselves.

It doesn’t make a great Hallmark card. It does help us to raise kind, confident children, even in this world.

Steve walked on some years ago and the book is a bit dated in terms of language and examples but it still lives in my study on a shelf I always know how to find, no matter how much we rearrange the furniture. And it lives on in my own book, Grandmothers Are In Charge Of Hope.

With my whole heart, and with hope for my own girls, I invite you to check it out. It’s never too late to start! We need all the capable, significant, influential kids we can get.

This is how the world changes.

Many blessings to all of you who are mom-ing and grammy-ing anybody, anywhere and teaching these truths in whatever way works for you. This day and every day. Amen.