Emotional Dryad Seeks Little House in Big Woods
Western to Central location in United States preferred. No electricity required. Must be able to access without 4WD. Secure cottage with bunk for one in treed setting, running water nearby a plus. For writing, painting, soulmining, long walks, maybe more. No leaks please.
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Sitting in a shadow (literally this time) at about 4pm today, I felt the time change and winter's onset sink into my bones. I remembered a friend telling me last week that the change of seasons really affects her, that she needs sunshine to find the motivation to get up and move about in an inspired way. I have a lot of friends who also feel like this, and I, too, have felt varying emotions with changes in the weather. Many of my New England relations have such very long and stark winters, I can't blame them for casting spells to bring the blossoms forth to enjoy for a few stinking months before it all begins again. How do you people do it?
I digress.
I thought a lot about productivity today, and it's seductive ("If you did me, you could check me off of your list.....") appeal. I am industrious by nature, so finishing something makes me feel reeeeeal good. Like so many lessons, I've had to make myself to sit still and allow the seasons to imprint upon me. You know, just to kick myself in the hindquarters some more. Slowing down and taking notice of details is easier than when I'm busy making hay as the sun shines, so I really don't mind the challenge. The details are what inspire me to birth new ideas, but I have to create space to notice them sometimes. Nuts.
If I set up my environment as I did today, tea on the nightstand, laptop on the lapdesk, chicken pot pie in my hands, legs snuggled under the sheets as the dark clouds threatened the sky, I can create the kind of being still (ish) that I enjoy when this season approaches.
Brandon took the kids to a birthday party and the house was unusually quiet. At one point, I pushed everything aside and closed my eyes in a mini-retreat. I popped awake with an idea or two, so I scratched them into my notebook in the half-light and dozed back out. It felt luxurious to be alone with an idea and not feel that fire to race into my studio and try to figure out how to execute it. To just lie there dreamily with it and let it tell me it's story in it's own voice.
Allowing, ahem! ALLOWING the season to direct me and discovering again that at this time of year it's okay to hang up my hat of movement once in a while left me...cozy. I think of my grandmother, abuzz in her garden all summer, then winding down to make sausage quietly in the kitchen as the seasons changed. I can see her sitting down in her chair under a lamp and sewing on a piece of a quilt.
It's as if the bright masculine sun retires for a while, and the darker feminine energies get a chance to come out and play. I enjoy the shift that plays out like this in so many different aspects of life. It felt almost ceremonious to cozy down like a Fox in my den with my tail around my nose, dreaming up the things that will itch to be manifested... next season.
Will you share about your coziest, comfiest, winter space? What does it smell like? What brings you comfort? What does it give you permission for?
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This word, "shelter" has been coming up a lot lately. I'm drawn to it for all it possesses that is cozy, voluntarily protective, like a little dwelling in the forest with a writing table and a tiny chair inside, and no electronics whatsoever.
The bunk has a soft, but not squishy mattress on a small wooden frame. On top of the woodstove sits a floral kettle that brings a tease of color to an otherwise soft and woody single room. The blankie is velvety and my grand aunt's faded quilt lays over the end of the bed, inviting naps at any time of day. Firewood and pinecones are piled up outside the window, and my old truck sits in the driveway alone, to be seen by no one for days.
Shelter, for me, is a ritual of solitude. When my ears go quiet and my senses cease to be repeatedly shocked by the stimulus and reactivity of my day, I rest. Even if I'm not exactly resting, my wiring is at rest. Vitality can also be found in silence, a teaching that keeps seeking me out.
I'd take a few things to this cabin called Shelter with me: Honeybush tea for morning and ground coffee + the french press for the afternoon. A coldbox with cream, bread, cheese, wine, cakes, water, olives. Dad's venison jerky, canned trout, some Walt Whitman, tall furry boots, birdseed, a warm ears hat, medicine shawl, Coyote, my notebook, a tin for collecting small forest floor goodies and feathers, a tiny vase, thick yarn and bamboo needles, fuzzy socks, a way to make fire.
Tell me what you'd bring to this tiny haven far from civilized noise...
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pellegrino now makes still water in a glass bottle. though i carry my kleen kanteen everywhere like a spare limb, i had to have this beautiful bottle-if only to take it's portrait and promise myself to fill it with tiny-stemmed flowers. why doesn't all water come in glass bottles? so done with plastic.
these overnight retreats are doing my heart so much good. i've loved taking a break here and getting away as much as possible to clear my head and be able to hear my dreams at night. this time i spent some sacred medicine time with two women (both leo suns to my mama leo moon..prrrrrrrr) who know my heart. i was able to work through a couple of issues and have some quiet time with them in the shade + enjoy some scrumptious bites while powering down one last time before a month of painting on a deadline.
i'm moving my studio out of the house here and down to santa monica for the month and trying los angeles on again is a big step for me. this has been a year of turning all of my perspectives upside down. working with what i've got is actually quite enjoyable at the moment. i'm surrendering so much, layers are falling off every day. what lovely medicine for a hot summer.
another idea making it's rotations around in my bean is that i must assert some better boundaries in relationships. it is time to evaluate once again how i am conserving my energy. i'm still volunteering myself too much and learning the recurring lesson of how to budget my natural resources. sometimes i feel a bit bullied or guilted into participating in online events or showing support for people i may not know intimately. i forget that my energy belongs to me and to my family and if i don't have the time to expand my circle or say yes to everyone's projects, that is OKAY. because i'm in a transition back into work with a baby who is ready to spend two afternoons a week with her nana-neighbor, i have a loaded plate and things have changed from when i had less to do. this is all good change, but it means i have to make new choices. i love change! but i often forget to adapt when i take on new projects; others must take a back seat, and it can't be my family. sometimes it has to be my social time, or time spent online or on the phone. i suppose i can't have it all.
as i slept on the ground in a tipi on sarah jane's property last night, i dreamed of a lizard that was regenerating it's tail. as children, my brother and i used to try to capture the wee lizards, and sometimes we'd be left holding a little wiggling tail, the reptile having darted back off under the woodpile, missing it's rudder. this speaks of detachment in order to survive. i also thought it could mean that perhaps i can trust that when i give away my energies to the right sources, i will be replenished and *grow back*. i also drew a celtic stag from a wonderful card deck, and it spoke of letting go of emotional attachments. seeing as how i'm...er...generously endowed in the department of *feelings*, i'm looking at how to best work this magic.
it is time to pack up my studio and move this operation onward and outward for a time. i hope that this means i will work less from home and have more time to focus on playing and writing. thank you, as always, for joining me on this journey of creativity and self-care.
*photo by the lovely and amazing kirsten crilly and her magical nikon
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I've been on a fiery rampage for weeks now as I've been clearing the last of the clinging, asthmatic virus out of my system. This weekend's jaunt to Yosemite Nat'l Park with treasured girlfriends was watery and cooling to my inflamed disposition.
The falls are so magnificent; if you haven't seen them, you are missing out. The giant Sequoias, Redwoods, Lodgepole pines, Oaks, and the blankets of flora on the valley were so soothing. The air was incredible.
We stayed on a lovely 180 acre horse ranch and soaked up the landscape, each other's love, our passion for growth, and bits that needed healing.
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All photos are from the lush, hundred-year-old backyard garden of Karen's home.
Plunging with Karen Maezen Miller on Saturday was great fun and full of tools to implement at home when I returned. Most of all, it was a time to rest among women who also needed a rest, and recharge on the simplicity that is Karen's way.
What came up for me again and again is that I run through my days: run through my tasks, run from here to there, run from my children. Attention. Breath. Peace. With yoga and sitting, it was so easy to return to these simple little actions that need no prompting. They are right within us happening reflexively. It takes effort to stop them, not experience them.
Something she said has stuck with me from the moment she said it, her wise words always followed by her infectious, elvish laughter: Peace lives in this moment, and peace never leaves us.
Today, I am peace. Peace is me.
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Well, not exactly gone fishing-gone camping. But my brain has most definitely taken a vacation from the usual thoughts and priorities. I'm mentally...at camp!
School ended on Friday and today was the big water party at a beautiful horse ranch just outside of town. I think I heaved a sigh of relief as I entered my front door upon returning. You would die laughing to hear how little time Miles actually attends preschool, and many days, gets chauffeured by his Nana in one direction. But this year, it's been enough for me to be intensely grateful for the break from that routine.
Over the weekend, we took a much needed respite with friends in our nearby, beloved San Emigdio mountain range that once cradled us and our home. It helped me shift gears out of school mode and into summertime; it's breezy cool days and a chilly fireside night spent with treasured friends.
I love change. I can even feel myself enlivened to put energy into projects that have been hanging around on the back burner for a season or longer. Such as finding a place to live, putting efforts into promoting my work and my store, and some fun crafty projects with the babes.
I'm spending a few stolen moments thinking about what is working for me in my life and what isn't. One thing I have to overhaul is the way we do our banking and finances. Such a mundane task can really drive me crazy when it isn't streamlined. What a boring thing to blog about, but it's true! It isn't working for me. I've automated almost everything, but I generally have no idea what pays when. Something must be done.
Bringing plastic into our house is not working for me. Each day I find more and more evidence that I am not doing enough to keep plastic from coming in. I did, however, find a lovely fabric wrapped round of English farmhouse cheddar called "Truckle" at Trader Joe's that I have to share here. I've been dreaming of this! Check it out on deck at the campsite grill this weekend in it's toile-esque glory:
Clearly, making my own tortillas should be next on the agenda. Making our own yogurt is! And I'll give a detailed report about that. Little did I know, my mom has been sitting on a yogurt maker and cultures, all I have to do is add the goat's milk and later, the fruit. Miles is going to love this.
So, in a word, change. S.L.O.W. change. Once my head comes back from wandering lustily through the trees...
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Pebbles instead of sand at Moonstone beach.
As I left Bakersfield on Saturday morning, headed west for the artsy little village of Cambria, I noticed a welcome feeling of freedom from scheduled activities and obligatory anything. The forty-six highway is long and winding, and gave me plenty of time in my own bean to think about health, home and happiness.
It was a lovely reunion, both with Kirsten, and with the sea air. When I lay down in the tiny, tumbled pebbles on Moonstone's beach instead of common sand, I felt a great deal of pain in my back where all of the coughing has taken it's toll. Then...a great yank downward. I took deep breaths in and lingered there supine as the waves crashed beyond my feet. I got the immediate sense that I'd been gifted with what I'd come for: a healing.
The energy of the jade, jasper and all of the other beautiful little stones that are so old and full of motion and ability was incredible. I didn't want to leave. I made an offering of a couple of my hairs and one throaty verse of a song and then we were off to breakfast at our favorite little spot for chilaquiles.
I loved it there so much that I'm going back for Mother's Day this weekend, at *mother Ocean*... Back for more time in those little healing pebbles. Because I can't get her out of my head. And my lungs are begging for more. I want to run a mile down the water's edge and may do just that.
While I'm there, I'll be brewing something fun to share a bit later here...stay tuned for that little surprise, yip yip yip:)
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It seems that this corner of bloggieland is aflame with energy of new Spring ideas that are sure to wake up the wintry consciousness! I'm so excited to see my sisters declaring their work and rolling up their sleeves to make a difference in their own lives, as well as others.
Here are some exciting offerings:
Christina Sbarro, of My Topography is using Kickstarter to fund her creation called A Field Guide to Now. I can't wait to see what she can do with this project! Watch her beautiful video and I dare you not to burn up with curiosity about what she can teach you.
Registration will soon be closing on Kate Swoboda's e-course, Your Courageous Life. I had the pleasure of speaking with Kate for an interview last week, and she has some very practical tools in store for those ready to step it up a notch and start taking some risks in 2010.
Karen Maezen Miller is having a scrumptious giveaway of two copies of her new book, Hand Wash Cold. She also has a gorgeous, soft, thoughtful video posted that has inspired me to start some laundry tonight.
Time is closing in on Squam Art Workshop's Spring Session, complete with Ravelry dames, for those who love handcrafting and textiles.
The time is now to jump into wishstudio's Virtual Art Retreat, which is PACKED with classes, goodies and discounts on art supplies. Mindy Tsonas, the innovator behind wishstudio is just about to blow the doors off of the e-course format and I bow to the goddess of virtuality each time I visit her!
And this little fantasyland is my new favorite place to play! Stop in and dream with us at Imaginary Commune...
Go! Build your toolkit!
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Sweets. Now more than ever.
Why am I blogging?! I'm supposed to be drawing and painting. Good grief, how did I not know this was coming? To be fair, I am not freaking out. Just working and also working when I might like to be...bathing, reading. I'm so not going to complain about having to paint. I love every minute of it.
Check this out while I'm finishing up:
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You've heard it a million times, right? From all of us Squam bombs out here in blogland? It's becoming like a religious pilgrimage, isn't it?
One of the many aspects I love about SAW is how a good retreat booked far in advance can really set the tone for my year and help me to keep my pace steady as I grow creatively. I feel like it gives me something to reach my branches toward, and to take the steps I need to get to where I'm going before I arrive on the rocky steps of the Temple of the Creative Forest.
Rockywold Deephaven Camps, where SAW is held, was founded by two women, who I believe must have intuitively sensed the feminine, creative quality of the camps. Men who come to SAW at RDC seem very in touch with the creative vitality within them. Women who attend seem to be answering the natural, inner call to connect to that creative life-force inside. Children (okay, Miles is the only example I really have!) go positively into an artistic trance once they pick up on what is going on.
The camp is even shaped quite like a womb, the perfect place to plant the seeds of your creative intention and watch them take off into the sky on unfurled wings.
When I attended two years ago, I only knew that I was called to go, I had no idea what I'd be doing in the next couple of years. Ivy was cocooning in my belly and I was intent on not making any big plans or designing expectations I wouldn't be able to meet. What I did do was connect. I communed with new and old friends in my pregnant state and allowed myself to be without a purpose other than being present there. I trusted that the meaning of it would come to me when it was supposed to.
It was January a year ago when it hit me. I picked up the paintbrush, dusty with art school years behind me, and in a burst of fertile flames I began painting with no idea about what I would do next.
What came through felt like, and still does, a culmination of everything I love the most. The concepts of symbols I'd been studying, the circles I'd been sitting in, the animals running across my paths and through my dreams, color chips that had been taped into journals...it suddenly all made sense and all I could do was MAKE. I was freed from thinking about it!
A little aperture was giving way to a great opening, I'd become willing to embrace the unknown and allow my creative stirrings and the muse meet each other.
I realized during that winter transition how Squam Art Workshops had impacted me. It's creative energy gently held me that first Fall, never forcing the birth, just cradling the energy. I hadn't planned on attending this past Fall, but when Ivy was just two months old, I felt the urgent need to be there, and so the pioneering efforts to make the trek with the whole family were laid.
After the new sessions were announced last week, a unique opportunity arose for me to teach at The Pixie Session in August. Like so many times since I took myself to that maple and white pine wood, I have been summoned to show up and share something of myself.
I'll be teaching a mixed-media painting class which incorporates the use of animal totems, as well as a kids-and-parents class where we'll make forest floor finds/fiber arts folk full of symbols to carry back home with you and draw upon when you need it. I'm so excited to do this with families that my heart is about to burst!
My hope is that you will be able to experience what Squam has provided me with: a well of creative energy and connected communal peeps to feed your soul with all year long, building the foundation and support for your artistic life.
In whatever glorious form it may take.
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Check out the FIVE...you read that correctly, FIVE different retreats offered through SAW this year. Elizabeth has been working her tailfeathers off to bring you an awesome array of opportunities to create the retreat of a lifetime at art camp.
Two years ago I attended the very first one and I stayed off site with Miles and Brandon with this lovely family and we drove in each day for class and lunch. Last year, with Elizabeth's help, the whole brood stayed in a cabin in the camp (with the big kids) and had the time of our lives.
I won't be able to emphasize (in one quick the-children-are-fed-and-docile blogging moment) how much Squam Art Workshops and all of our experiences associated with it have changed our lives.
But I am extremely proud to announce that The Pixie Session is now available to all of you mischievous creative artmamas and artdaddies and wee faery folk. The 4 day retreat has been designed to take full advantage of the camp's amenities for children and families and there are even classes to take with your little ones.
I hope to see you there!
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On the other side of deadline, I have cards to give away! The winner will receive four animama notecards with envelopes. I currently have these cards to choose from:
Buffalo-Abundance
Crow-Alchemy
Rhinoceros-Sanctuary
Fox-Change
Owl-Magic
Deer-Harmony
In your comment, I'd love to know why you retreat, what you go on retreat seeking and/or where your favorite retreat places are! I'll post a winner up on Sunday night...good luck!
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There seem to be an abundance of great retreats being hosted at the moment, and it makes my heart sing to see women sitting in more and more circles, connecting and awakening to the depth of their own souls.
My longtime medicine teacher gathers a group in the mountains once a year and I've missed the last few. So this time, dearest husband stayed five minutes from camp (thanks to Amazing Diane) and I was able to participate while he and the wees explored mountain tops nearby. Isn't it so good to have deep friends and rich nature all in one weekend? *happy sigh*
These are the times when I put myself on the hook to try to find the hang ups that prevent me from creating peace in my life. Between the dreams, readings, healings, drumming, dancing, yoga, meditation, and time spent alone in the woods, it's impossible not to go into deep reflection. This is what I love about retreat, the renewal and enlivenment of spirit that one can come home with.
What came up for me, as I was flitting between activities and opting out of others in favor of getting outside to breathe the air of my favorite pines, is that... I am addicted to overwhelm. {stomach heave}
Here's what it looks like:
I tend to run myself a little bit late, and then I am flustered when I get to where I'm going. I fill my calendar just a little too full, spread myself to those in need a bit too thin, and therefore operate under a pattern of stress with all of the nasty sidecars: suppressed immunity, few emotional reserves, able to go short distances but wear out when endurance is needed. I can seriously make any easy task into a tragedy if I'm unaware. It's not easy to admit this because now I have to do something about it. Shit!
Having children has made this pattern seem justifiable. Friends say things like, "You're under rested, you're a new mom! Of course you're only operating on half a brain!" Implying that the reddish-black circles under my eyes are all perfectly normal. The truth is that this was going on long before kids came into my life, but I was able to collapse for three days at a time if needed, or be sick, etc., stealthily hiding my *habit* a bit.
Being addicted to overwhelm feels victimy to me when I hold it up to the light. (There's that message again). I don't feel that I'm proficient about making decisions that are grounded in self care. I'm determined to find a way to turn it around. I feel a responsibility, not only to myself, to be able to teach Miles and Ivy how to honor and take care of themselves.
These are my lessons. All mixed up in a big soup with my joy, my love and my offerings to you.
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The first Sunday of the month is my day. Since 2003, with a few short breaks for babies, I've been sitting in a circle of women in the Los Padres National Forest to connect, heal and do all of the rad things that women do when there are no boys around. Like weep openly just because we're so grateful to have each other, hug for no reason, journey for messages for each other, feast, celebrate the animals and the earth, drum, rattle, and explore the teachings of the ancient ones. When we have to skip a month, I really feel it. I've come to rely on this circle and others like it to re-center me.
As Blue and I were heading out (the Goddess of Blue rides in the car much more now), I spotted a bird on the roadside. I passed it because, Ugh, I didn't feel like dealing with roadkill today and I was already late. About a mile away, I turned back. I didn't feel I could leave it there. Animal medicine is part of what this circle is all about. I phoned Brandon to tell him to meet me at the gate with supplies: rubber gloves, cat litter, cardboard box. When I got back to it and got a good look, I saw that it was a Great Horned Owl. Which is really strange because barn owls are a dime a dozen here, but I've never seen a GH.
It's qualities, as far as I know, is really simple-it's quite a formidable bird with a large giant beak and furry legs that lead to enormous talons. In the tradition of the elders, we harvested wings, tail feathers, and claws and gave it a ceremonial wrap and burial complete with songs, sage and a prayer. This may sound a bit macabre to some, but it's what we do. It's very sad for the animal who has lost it's life, presumably this one to electrical wires, as so many are. One way of honoring it, and all that it has to teach, is to use the feathers in ceremonies or gift them to those who might need them for healing work.
Owls teach us about the feminine aspects. I also call on Owl to help me practice flexibility-think of the magnificent range of motion of their heads. When my neck is sore, which it often is, I ask myself what it is that I must learn to be more flexible about. Usually, the answer lies somewhere among having too-high expectations, thinking in a rigid or controlling way, or needing a break from the pressure of deadlines. I know, loosen up, Pixie.
Owls are survivors, they can adapt to almost any environment. This comes in handy to remember, too.
I'm so grateful for my life, my friends, and the messages and blessings that continue to find inroads to me. I'm so grateful that you stopped by!
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The Campbells at SAW, by Thea Coughlin.
This is me. This is my family. We operate mostly as a package deal. Partly this is because I dislike being away from them for long periods of time and partly because when I agreed to marry my husband 13 years ago it was on the condition that we would pioneer our way through our life together, breaking new ground and forging through unknown territories.
We've been called "hard-core" by many of our friends because we are known for pushing conventional limits as we create the sort of experiences we want to share as a family. Like flying eight month old Miles to Maui and driving ourselves several hours into the rain forest to photograph him nudie on the black sand beaches of Hana. Encouraging him to feast on poi and fresh mangoes, climbing volcanic cliffs with him in a backpack, so we could live to tell the tale!
I don't know if traveling with both children makes us hard-core or not, though we do get a lot of comments about how brave we are to saddle them up for every ride we feel compelled to go on. Sometimes I feel that if I want to do something bad enough, I just have to make it work with them!
Taking the kids (and my husband, for that matter!) into retreat space felt really good to commit to, and it also felt risky. I wondered during the planning stage if it made good sense to bring them to Squam, where the cabins are cozy, but get a bit cold for our my west coast bones. Would they get sick? Would they unravel on me every half hour? Would it stretch them beyond their capacity to enjoy themselves? What felt safe was not what won the debate. I am surely one to leap now and say "Oh, shit" later.
I melted down the night we arrived because we pulled in late- just after registration, located the dining hall, scarfed food in a rush and set out to find our invisible private cabin on the lake. About 20 minutes into that "adventure" Ivy took a monster poop and my anxiety level began to rise. I finally made Brandon get out on foot with a tiny flashlight and the RDC map to find the cabin. It was dark and cold upon entering, not to mention a bit stinky from fresh baby poo. It took me ten minutes of opening every door in the place to find the bathroom, because of course, I was about to peep myself.
Once we got settle in, forced open a bottle of wine, lit up the fire (that the attendants at the camp lovingly arrange wood for) and sank into twin rocking chairs, it was bliss. The loons were calling and the lake was swishing and it was pure magic.
I'll be posting my must-pack list later on, but this will give some initial insight into what pampered camping 3000 miles from home was like for us. This is sort of the quick and dirty reality, and not the flowery prose I hope to write about my children as I continue to process what the week meant for me.
These notes are meant to remind me of what I need to consider when we ALL attend next year, but it is dedicated to all of those who have commented that we did it gracefully. Behind the scenes was not as polished as it may have appeared in the amber glow of the heavenly dining hall! But I still consider it a huge success and we will be doing it again next Fall.
Rule #1. Even if it is your birthday, do not lollygag on the way to Squam with children in tow. Arrive as early as the handbook says you can and get settled in. This way, you won't miss the coveted bonfire and cry for twenty minutes about how its your birthday and you missed the bonfire.
Rule #2. Bring wine to help with missed bonfires and other mild disappointments. I brought an acrylic wine glass in my suitcase, yet forgot a corkscrew. An unexpected in-room amenity, an icepick, got us through. Once cozied in front of a giant fire (that coincidentally kept the bathroom nice and toasty with it's shared chimney wall), I was totally okay that I wasn't freezing my pahtoot off out in the wilderness.
Rule #3. Pack Rescue Remedy and your very best relationship skills. That means no blaming Brandon for mishaps. (sorry, honey.)
Rule #4. Know what triggers grumpiness in you and be sure to pack creature comforts to remedy that (such as an electric tea kettle, which I did not bring this time). I found that allowing myself to melt down from the initial excitement and overwhelm was a good clearing out that allowed me to relax for the rest of my time there.
Rule #5. If you plan to take classes, be sure to allow Daddies some time to go for a mountain bike ride (the camp rents them), kayaking, guitar playing time, or whatever he loves to do. Scheduling time for everyone to get filled up is a must, because at Squam, time has a way of slipping away very quickly. Dads can also take classes, too, if they want to enroll! Squam is an equal opportunity retreat.
Rule #6. Even if it means you have to get a funny tattoo on your wrist before you attend Squam, be certain to pack your sense of humor. Mistakes and setbacks are likely to happen with the kiddies. When I laughed through them, I thrived. When I pained through them, I suffered.
Rule #7. Be willing to sacrifice your plans if you have a child that has met his limit. Even if that means carrying him screaming out of the dining hall sideways and letting your breakfast go cold (thank you, kind woman who hurried to open the door for me). Being flexible has never been more important. Surrendering expectations that they will love every moment of it is unrealistic, even if your child loves nature, has plenty to do, is warm enough, etc. Sometimes kids can feel torn about being out of their routine and being on an exciting adventure-its stressful for them. Miles (just shy of 4 years old) had a few moments like this, but mostly, he was his charming, wise self. He totally imprinted the creative part of the experience-spending hours on detailed drawings and making his own artistic leaps. I did well when I cut him much slack.
Rule #8. Resist the temptation to put the kids down later than usual. All of the excitement, plus early breakfast times means well-rested babes are happier during the day. Especially those naughty things that don't take naps anymore! Vendor night was challenging for Dad and two overstimmed sleepies. I walked into pure chaos after we put our table away Saturday night. A better plan might have been to have my table buddy take over while I helped get them down and then I could have returned shortly thereafter.
Rule #9. Bring your favorite phrases that lighten things up in your family, such as "Oops", "No biggie", and "It's going to be okay". I'm a classic over reactor so I actually have to prepare to under react when things don't go as planned! It takes practice, for me, anyway. One day I started off for class and realized I needed to sit down and nurse Ivy before I left for 3 hours. Being late creates all kinds of anxiety for me. I had to remember that at Squam, self-care rules. What's good for you is generally what's good for everyone, in my experience. Everyone was very understanding and accommodating, and that really helped.
Rule #10. Leave lots of open time for the unknown and for yourself. I'm glad I only booked two days of classes and not three-which tempts me every time, because there are so many great classes. We took Thursday to take family portraits and get ourselves acquainted with our surroundings. It was perfect.
It was all blessed and perfect!
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I did Squam Art Workshops a little bit differently than most this year-I attended with my whole brood. I return from this event feeling very filled up, with a year's worth of inspiration to carry me onward. I'm grasping at words to try to tell you what it was like...
bright cool heavenly water
loon-sounds wild howls
amazing chow! humming, buzzing dining*chatting*meeting*laughing*riotous hall bursting with friends and new faces shining up up
reconnections
gentle enthusiastic instructors creating safe workspace sharing color and stories
fearless founders, creators and supporters
meaningful moments
boundaries and asking and apologies
cheeks of joy bouncing along the trail
warm hearths mossy trails brilliant and smiling photographers
entertaining squirrels hurling acorns red leaves f a l l i n g d o w n
divine and helpful husbands
a delirously inspired child who couldn't sleep for all the excitement!
creating walking singing whispering by fires smooching and hugging and snuggles
goodbye tears
yearning and pining
beginning, looking forward and standing very still
listening to the silent space in which anything, ANYTHING can happen...
More to come...
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In 41 hours we'll be landing in Boston bound for Portsmouth, NH to linger for the morning with friends and friendliness before heading to Squam Lake for 5 days of creative goddess hedonism!
I'm up, secretly blogging while everyone else sleeps. This is not to say that I'm not practicing self-care, though I'd best be hitting hay soon. I've been taking care of myself this week by asking for help-with Blue, with children, with food, when I need to talk to a good friend who knows just what to say, with washing machines that won't spin. I've been opening, stretching..opening a little more and receiving. So hard for some of us to do! But so worth it to realize that those around me genuinely want to help...ME.
Thank you all for your kind words about Blue. Today was a good day, one of treats and frolicking on the lawn with her buddies and roaming around the inside of the house, sniffing the stove and begging. Knowing we have limited time with her has brought up so much conversation around here...life is short. This we all know. And yet something shifts unexpectedly each time it happens, does it not? Something so simple like a lifecycle can have deep and jarring impacts each. different. time.
I'm so grateful for my life, for my time here. And for YOU.
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...and carrying water here this week. The do list is long and my desire to be awake is short.
I sat in my women's medicine circle in the mountains today and it felt like a deep retreat for my soul. We haven't met in several months because summer just runs away out from under a person, doesn't it?
I want to tell you how strongly I feel about hearts healing all over this planet. Is anyone else experiencing this? Letting go of things you never thought you could? Standing firm on your own two feet? Overcoming an impossible obstacle? Understanding how that thing you thought was horrible worked out rather well? Learning that same old lesson less and less? Change is happening, loves. Something is different. And I dig it.
I have had some powerful dreams lately, some having to do with Miles and some shapeshifting animals. He has big healer energy, but I mustn't let him in on that secret. It is so profoundly magical to see one's children unfold and become. I am learning to nurture what I did not know I would need to. Parenthood is full of mysteries untold. I don't want to get caught up in how I grieve the moments which I forget, but I do.
The computer has been draining my energy a bit lately. My heart has been in need of a balm. Slowing down to nourish myself with friendship, food, guidance and to keep company with the wise tree people was the perfect fit.
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Many of you already know McCabe Russell, the heartful and sassy woman behind Dancing Mermaid Designs and Mermaid Warriors e-Camp. I was curious to know more about her camps and what led her down this path, so I had to investigate.
What moves me so much about McCabe is her generous spirit with little people. To {speak} with her and read her blog is to know that she has so very much to give. Her offering of art camp e-courses for girls is very dear to my heart. I don't think a person's energy could be better spent than by investing it in the creativity of girls and tweens. I get so sentimental when I watch the videos she's taken of the kids in her backyard camps-I mean, what if each one of us gathered children just once a summer in order to *see* them, *perceive* them and *listen* to their souls? What kind of ripple effect could that create?
McCabe does a smashing job of creating safe, sacred space for the girls who attend her courses. I had a few questions for her and she was kind to indulge me. I want to share our exchange with you...
mc: i began this work 10 years ago when i was part of an outreach program that was geared towards supporting young girls. there was a booklet and outline i was supposed to follow, however, it seemed to me a bit dry just teaching text alone. i started sharing my own stories of questions and ache, along with art projects to keep it fresh and interesting. we created this magic that i will never forget, and the rest came from that place.
mc: i feel like every time i teach my heart heals a little more. the parts of me that i felt were not enough~not pretty enough, smart enough, successful enough, etc...seem to be irrelevant while i teach. it is a process and practice healing yourself. some days are better than others, but at least i know i am going in the right direction. this is what grounds me the most.
px: What is your hope for all who attend your camp?
Being a parent is no easy task. No matter how present you are with your children, there is always, ALWAYS room to give more empathy and creative attention to young people. Being a positive influence for a little girl (or boy) could save their lives. That's how deeply I believe in the work of the Dancing Mermaid! I'm so grateful that other women are taking her lead and starting their own gatherings, as in the case of my dear bud, Wendy. (Be sure to listen to "Beautiful Flower" by India Arie on Wen's embedded mp3 player for tears and the full effect).
Long before I had children, I heard someone say "It takes a village", in reference to raising kids, and it stuck with me. I've enjoyed sharing my friends with my kids, encouraging Miles to create his own relationships with trusted adults so that he could receive varying forms of attention and direction. I wish McCabe lived in my village. *sniff*
Right in our backyards, all of us can begin today. Thank you, McCabe!
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Escondido is beautiful, with a morning marine layer that makes having coffee on the patio so wonderful. The view from Terri's & Mark's home is incredible. Apparently the lake can be seen from one of the twins' room, but I haven't crept in there with my camera yet. I've not taken very many photos, but I wanted to share a couple of Ivy and Miles by the pool. We were here a year ago and I was just, just pregnant with the dumpling. I'm noticing how very much life can change in a year. I mean, look at that! A smiling person that resembles chubby candy!
Both of them have been sleeping so well here. I think it must be all of the playing we're doing. Miles isn't grieving bedtime like he does at home. He mourns sundown every day as if it were his last. Many nights he's said that he wanted to "start over the days", woefully, carrying that grief, wishing for one more moment to live before surrendering to the sandman.
I think I approach my work this way. Since I'm such a night owl and set to work long after the chickens have retired and the owls are out hoot-hooting outside my window, every minute counts. I love having uninterupted time to problem solve and mix my colors and flip through my notebook trying to trigger the exact way I saw it in my mind. If I only had more time, there's so much I could do!
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You may remember these faces. Maggie and Julie are two of four of us who met on the SARK message board nine years ago and formed an LA group to "explore our creativity"...and explore we have. We met this weekend in Sacramento for one last hurrah before my baby girl arrives.
I'm hitting the cold cereal and candied ginger again because pre-labor nausea is setting in. Delicious. Though I do have a splendid organic juice recipe to offer if you'd like to give it a go. It is rich in vitamin K, C & A, tumor reducing antioxidants (may you be more fortunate than to need it for this), & folate. If you aren't pregnant, you can sub the cuke with parsley or just add a bunch of parsley to the mix. This makes enough for 2 peeps if you have a decent yield juicer.
1 cucumber
1 bunch cilantro
1 bunch spinich
3 sticks celery
Jam slowly until juiced and sip without grimacing...I promise.
Here is a new detail of a near finished piece:
And that is what I've been up to since I last posted-nauseatin', paintin', card-pullin', girl squeezin', juicin' shenanigans.
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I'm still totally digesting what I came back from SquamFest with. I genuinely am struggling to put it into words, but verbalizing hasn't been my strength lately, so I'm cutting myself a bit of slack.
I am feeling rather shot out of a canon to continue with the things I learned in Nina's class, and I'll soon post a photo up of my necklace and my unfinished book. The crafty aspect of this new medium (new to me) is appealing, but much more than that, I love how handsy the process is. Touching metal, pounding copper, the sulfury stinkiness of it all-I'm just digging it. I'm trying to problem solve, only in my head so far, and sort out how to apply some of the techniques I've learned into my mixed media wall art. I don't know if I'll be able to do it, but it's fun to think about.
I also loved seeing so many familiar faces round the lunch tables, though I didn't have much time being off-campus to socialize and catch up with everyone. It was just lovely all the same to be in a room with people I have created with before and have come to adore-and miss.
Gathering in order to raise creative consciousness and form connections with other creatives is so important to me. It is very easy to isolate as a creative (and as a mom) and it takes enormous commitment (and bawlz) for so many of us to travel as far as we did in order to participate in this special meeting of the minds. I think Nina's website, and Kelly Rae's, as well as gobs of others, have links to similar events such as ArtFest and Art & Soul, which might be closer to you than all-the-way-across-the-bloody-country-New Hampshire. (This in no way means New England doesn't rock my pants off-I'm just blessed to have had the time and resources to make the journey.)
My one wish would have been to have asked about on-site accomodations for my family. I'm peeved I didn't do this, because an inordinate amount of time, groceries and gasoline were spent travelling back and forth to Moultenborough to dine and sleep with my babe when we could have all been in the same place. For any of you who are attachment parenting or just don't want to leave your family behind for 5-6 days, I recommend exploring the option- the camp is huge, the food is lovely and the scenery incomparable. A couple of women in my class had their husbands join them at some point during the stay and they enjoyed the golfing, kayaking, etc., while we crafted away.
In other news, it was my birthday yesterday and I enjoyed some fine mexican food, as that cuisine is sorely lacking in the NE. So I'm 37 now, waddling about, larger at four months than I was at six with M, and needing to plan another birth. I told a friend today that this one is so different, I don't get to daydream about it as much because I'm busy entertaining the real deal in front of me. I have fear that the littlest one is already getting the shaft and that makes me want to tune in and focus on *him or her*. But when?
I have become one of those kvetchers who never has enough TIME! Or sleep...
Love to you in blogland...sleep tight.
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The amazing Penelope Dullaghan has created a new banner for The Pink Coyote, which I am so thrilled about. For those of you who know Penny, you know she's had her hands very full in the past few months, yet she still managed to crank out this gorgeous painting that now resides atop my blog. I'm so proud of her work!
Penelope will be teaching a workshop at Squam Lake in New Hampshire in a few weeks, along with many other brilliant, creative women. If you aren't familiar with what is going down there, skeedaddle over here and find out. If you aren't going this year, you may want to plan for it next year. I know it is going to be out of this world. I'll be spending the entire time in Nina Bagley's classes with my sweet, soul mama, Wendy, of Mother Rising, hammering and screw-punching our way to nirvana together, while our boys reside at a lakeshore cabin up the road a piece.
My hope is that the new banner will inspire me to write something worthwhile here instead of my riskless, Dear Diary entries of late. Something to howl at the moon about, of course. *wink*
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oh,yes, i met these women ten years ago on the planet sark message board before it became trendy camp sark when everyone i knew was postcardfairying and eatingmangoesnaked and learning how to be comfortable in her own skin as the appeal to do was replaced by a seed of BE which scattered all over the world and we began to talk-oh, the talks! long and deep and intimate with a charge underneath it that shouted, "we can do anything we choose!" with flames and invitations and returns to love and lost loves and marriages, too, twisted hurricanes and earthquakes and fires come and gone we still meet, this time on the milkiest tit on the west coast....my beloved big sur.
my beloved elements!
we rhoooule the whhhuuuurlldd!
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M touches Auntie Chris's tummy belly (TB).
Off for another round of gathered women to celebrate the magical changing of the seasons and commune with nature. This group always seems to gather when my body needs mass quantities of rest or nuturing of some kind. This week my neck and shoulder are giving me such grief! I'm looking foward to sitting by a fire and asking someone to put their healing hands on me. I need to plug in and recharge!
I'll be thinking of you from far above sea level...
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