Pink Coyote

Moonlight Beach in Crooked Hats

"Yet in our human relations we are outraged when the supreme moments, the moments of flowering, must be waited for...and then cannot last. "--May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude

Every moment with a child is a first that will never be experienced again. How sad!, that we must pay attention to each twinkling, without distraction, to his each and every whim in order to savor the juice of a fruit that ripens to perfectness every day and then from the beginning the very next day again: however subtly changed.
How, I ask, can one have time for meaningless undertakings when this is the highest priority, that which takes precedence over all else?
To miss these ripe moments are a sin against the self, as how dare we eschew our holiest creation?

Three Degrees of Leo

Gangie and Miles, April 2006.

It's my mom's birthday today and I want to wish her a happy day full of laughs and the feeling of being adored. She may not like this picture, but I chose it because it seems to convey how joyful she is about Miles. They have quite an affinity for each other. Mom was in the delivery room (the bedroom) when Miles emerged and was a great source of strength for me as I gave birth to him. I like this horoscope for her because it emphasizes her creativity, and love of family. Happy Day, Mom!
(That is my dad reaching in with his rocky road.)

The 20 lightening fires are still burning, outside smells of smoke and pine trees. My delicious forest of Los Padres has lost over 1000 acres at present. None are out of control, as the wind is mellow from last night's humidity.

Our neighbor Jeannie came tapping yesterday, "Yoo hoooo! Pixie?", to deliver over five different kinds of lettuces and a large bunch of basil from her organic garden. Living next to a culinary arts graduate certainly has its perks.

I love that a relative stranger will reach out with such ease, to share abundance. On a grander scale, it reminds me of the hope that in a world oft wafting with confusion, kindness will find her way adeptly through the dark.

I'm reading more these days, in an effort to be still. Revisiting a thoughtful old favorite and trying something savory and new. Being still is refueling for me, as all fire needs a gust of help now and then.

Ring of Fire

The wildfire season has begun on time this year, with above rager starting yesterday and still proceeding at the moment. I believe the wind keeps shifting and sending it back and forth over the San Emidgio range, east then west then back again. The copters and planes carrying water from Pyramid Lake and Piru have been buzzing overhead since daybreak. Quick shout out to the fire department! We don't have cable television here and are remote enough not to pick up any local channels, so I am out of the loop as to what percentage it is or isn't contained. Living in a remote mountain community brings a person closer to her environment in many senses. Whether being snowed in or flamed out, excitement prevails here. I am picking up lots of writing work these past weeks, and I'm enjoying it immensely. There has been a windfall of people requesting fresh biographies, copy for websites, articles for e-zines all blowing in at once. If you are interested in hiring a wee and wordy fairy to weave your story, email me at campbellhq@earthlink.net and I shall send you my info sheet. Beware my spam snapper. Meantime, working on visual art has swung out for a moment, as the pendulum that is my creative life flows like ocean waves. I have two 24 x 24 canvases prepped and one coated on the studio table, lonely but patient. I saw an advertisement for a new Barbara Scher book (Wishcraft) for people who are pulled in multiple directions. She claims that one needn't choose a single direction...Barb affirms once again.

The bits of light coming in are nineteen-seventies-sunset-colored: pink and orange and gold- though it is only noonish here in south central California. Fire is scary and threatening, yet also cleansing and purifying. But I wouldn't be sad if it started pouring rain.

Sea Monster

"We would be warm below the storm in our little hide-a-way beneath the waves. Resting our head on the sea bed in an octopus’s garden near a cave. We would sing and dance around because we know we can’t be found." --Octupus' Garden, The Beatles

Where would you rather be today?

Slow Spin

MLC and Maui Mommy, June 2006.

"The wheel keeps on turning and turning and turning and... nothing's disturbing the way it goes around." ---Edie Brickell.

I know, I'm a cheeseball for continuing to listen to albums I had in college. But I love the Edie! Paul Simon has great taste in women.

Indeed, the planet has a way of keepin' on without any concern about my wanting it to slow the hell down. I'm turning it over, my inner workings like a compost heap getting hot and buggy. All that comes in gets recycled and with hope, I learn something in the process.

This week's big whoop is about natural consequences. When I fall down, I feel the cold sting of the concrete right up on my cheek, solid and unforgiving as it is. I like to fall, and I do it quite a bit. When I am allowed to make my own choices, gravity and other natural laws are quick to greet me. Bear with the Mighty Queen of Metaphors a moment:
In childrearing and other pursuits deemed to require careful nurturing and protection, we might safeguard with protective gear, insurance, helmets or cautioning words. It is known that we cannot wholly protect our loved ones from what results from bad manners, poor judgement, lacking hygiene, daredevil impulses. Beyond a wish to ensure physical safety often lies the desire to protect our dears from what others might think. But what can also be noted is that when we parent ourselves or others from fear, we deprive them or ourselves of curiosity and inevitably the opportunity to succeed or fail on their own.

What I mean is, by allowing the natural course of things, say, people to make choices without giving unsolicited advice, warnings, suggestions or fear based requests, we give them the gift of learning whether they would make the same choice again, a remarkable tool for learning that cannot be underestimated. I catch myself giving such words out for free and have a strong desire to STOP doing this.

I have been warned by well meaning friends that I flirt with flames at times. Call it the daredevil implulses or a blatant disregard for authority figures. I want to pursue my own learning and lessons- my own way, even if it means getting burned.

Because there is nothing that exfoliates the dead cells quite like a cement facial, ya'll.

Bounty

Busy week! Lots going on at the camp here. I'm helping a dear friend and coach put together her bio for her website and what a good time I'm having. I love extracting someone's gifts and putting them to words so as to acknowledge her in a bright light. What a treat for me! It's like giving presents, that kind of feeling. I'm paying attention to little details like Miles milky breath, the tearing cherry skin between my molars and the sweet scent of the new lavender. The natural world in my yard and around its perimeter is full of beautiful surprises. The previous owners planted many things that die out in winter's cold-tall and hovering cosmos, little teeny purple pansies and columbine are appearing out of nowhere in the beds. The stellar jays are losing their feathers all over the place. And the mountain is being spared the heatwave felt up and down the state. I sit in many circles of women, lucky gal am I. Yesterday I sat in my most endearing circle of all. In a place of complete trust, respect and sisterhood, one can only reach for her highest self. Sacredness abounds, fruit falls on the ground, all around. Look out, Geissel, I'm feelin snarky. "The greatest mistake you can make in life is to be continually fearing you will make one." --Elbert Hubbard.

Praise Cookies

"Without attention, the human sense of wonder and the holy will stir occasionally, but to become a steady flame it must be tended."--Huston Smith, The World's Religions. Wouldn't it be wonderful if there were a god of cookies? Surely if there were, she would be a goddess! Or more probable, a child. A cookie is really so much better than the stodgy scone, the conservative muffin, less-than-portable cake- Because of its shape, you can hold it with one hand and address important business with the other, if you want to. My favorite cookie is no secret: Uncle Eddies Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip. When you find one you really love, lift it skyward and praise the Holy Cookie Creator Worthy of Otherworldy Status (and capitalization).

Airline Miles

(I have been trying to put this up for almost a week and eBlogger is giving me trouble! I may be up to my limit in photo storage, so as I work this issue out, I will not be able to post some of the photos I've been wanting to share here. Here is the flickr page where you can see some pics from our trip.) Our first family vacation is behind us and summer has just begun! Miles travelled like a little champion, so excited about every detail: noticing new people on the trolley from the remote parking lot to the departing flight, jumping up and down and squealing on the plane ride from LAX to Honolulu, flirting with the flight attendants, patting the plastic window on the short flight to Kaluhui. All fears of ear pressure were dismissed-whatever it is that causes newbies to feel that discomfort (still-developing ear parts?) was not present for Miles. Sitting around in paradise is not something we do every year. The escape was truly the nicest thing we could have done for ourselves in this year of a new baby, a new home and an impending move to another new home in the year ahead. I got a Thai massage at Honua spa (and a heavenly outdoor shower) the day before we left. If you've never tried Thai massage, it is different, but I found it really quite effective at opening those crunchy, closed parts-especially in the hips and shoulders. The therapists use their feet a lot. Loved it! But you know how at the tail end of a big adventure the yearning to be home comes pecking at the window? Perhaps it is thinking of the long day of travel before me, the slapdash packing which is so unlike the meticulous, orderly suitcase I arrived with, or racing down to the beach on the last evening to get one more glimpse of the palm trees that stretch out toward the water and up toward the lazy sky...i don't know what invites that feeling in...it feels like sand cemented between the toes that only two-handed scrubbing can unglue. Heading back to a different world always finds me melancholyish. Home a few days now, one suitcase still sits on the bedroom floor. I'm living out of it, partly, not wanting to pack my adventurespirit away until our next jaunt. I've been steering clear of the internet to extend the essence of my vacation a little longer, it has been nice, but I do feel like I've got a lot of catching up to do! It is good to be here, on my pine-sweet scented mountain where green pollen covered the cars, a mouse met his tragic end on a stepping stone, the cherries turned bright red, the sun set just a little bit earlier, and all of the roses bloomed in our absence. I picked up I Sit Listening to the Wind at the spa on my day of shameless indulgence. The format is a bit unconventional, but the sentiments resonate strongly for me. Give it a peek if you are feeling at home in your quiet place within.

I'm heavy-headed, as allergies or some such sinus issue plagues me. I must retire, but will make my sleepy way back here soon.