Tuesday, January 21, 2014
Friday, January 17, 2014
and wonder who has rested here before me.
How many people have dreamed
and wept and seen the beauty of
nature and God from this spot?
In deep gratitude, I breathe.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Yarn Along with Ginny.
I just finished the first sock and am about to cast on for the second. These are for me! I seldom knit for myself, and I love hand knit wool socks. This book has me alternating between tears, nodding my head in agreement, and feeling Wild Woman stirring deep within.
Monday, January 13, 2014
by Pat Mora
They think she lives alone
on the edge of town in a two-room house
where she moved after her husband died
at thirty-five of a gunshot wound
in the bed of another woman. The curandera
and the house have aged together to the rhythm
of the desert.
She wakes early, lights candles before
her sacred statues, brews tea of yerbabuena**.
She moves down her porch steps, rubs
cool morning sand into her hands, into her arms.
Like a large black bird, she feeds on
the desert, gathering herbs for her basket.
Her days are slow, days of grinding
dried snake powder, of crushing
wild bees to mix with white wine.
And the townspeople come, hoping
to be touched by her ointments
her hands, her prayers, her eyes.
She listens to their stories, and she listens
to the desert, always, to the desert.
By sunset she is tired. The wind
strokes the strands of long gray hair,
the smell of drying plants drifts
into her blood, the sun seeps
into her bones. She dozes
on her back porch. Rocking, rocking.
At night she cooks chopped cactus
and brews more tea. She brushes a layer
of sand from her bed, sand which covers
the table, stove, floor. She blows
the statues clean, the candles out.
Before sleeping, she listens to the message
of the owl and the coyote. She closes her eyes
and breathes with the mice and snakes
* a curandera is a healer
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Sunshine and snow flurries.
Hot herbal tea and cake for breakfast.
Sweet baby snuggles.
Bread dough rising.
Playing cards with my children.
Thursday, January 9, 2014
Today calls for gentleness. I am knitting and reading, baking bread and making soup, being present for myself and my family, and taking the time to nurture myself. Just breathe...
Saturday, January 4, 2014
This is the third year I have chosen a word to guide me. 2012 was stability. 2013 was create. For 2014, the words healing and joy were ones I was seriously considering. I wanted to heal- emotionally, physically, and spiritually. I wanted to experience the joy that is all around me, but that I fail to recognize.
These words were ones I wanted, but they just didn't quite feel like the one. I looked up both words in the thesaurus, but nothing was right, and I tried to listen to what I was really wanting to focus on and bring into my life. Then, I read a quote by David Whyte on Facebook. It changed everything, although at the time I was just stunned. It read, "The price of our vitality is the sum of all our fears."
I sat with that quote for a few weeks. I found myself repeating it over and over to myself. The word vitality encompassed all that I wanted but it was so scary! Vitality. It seemed so big, so scary, so perfect, so intimidating, and so very, very right. It still seems all of that, and yet…it is my word for 2014.
The last few months I have been headed towards this. I feel like I have been waking up, noticing the beauty and the life that is all around me. I have been trying to remain in the present, to say "yes" to each moment. I am working on healing the old wounds I have allowed to hold me in the past. I am recognizing the joy around me and purposefully looking for it. I am appreciating Mother Earth and all the gifts Nature has for us. I am reclaiming my spirituality and finding my truth. I am practicing self-care and making myself a priority. I am seeing the world through my camera lens and writing again.
I have let a million fears keep me from living, from being present, from vitality. I am releasing those fears. They hold no power over me unless I allow it.
I am claiming vitality for myself this year.
Friday, January 3, 2014
An early morning dentist appointment for Jack-
an hour and a half away.
A long drive through the canyon.
A banana and a Red Bull for breakfast.
Stopping to pick up lunch and eating it in the car.
All five children falling asleep again, on the drive home.
Time spent in quiet reflection.
Awe and gratitude for Mother Earth.
Thursday, January 2, 2014
I named you;
wrote you all down
on a perfectly square piece of paper.
I bundled you up
with a white sage leaf
and a few elder berries.
I cast you into the flames
and watched as the fire destroyed you.
I released you and your power over me.
I release my fears and claim vitality.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
New Moon magic abounds tonight.
The darkness blankets me
and gives me a warm, fertile place to dream my dreams