I've begun sitting again!
I went out for an hour sit today, and discovered that with adequate
clothing, a tree for a windbreak, and snow for a blanket all around
you, the woods in a blizzard can be a perfectly cozy place! I even took
two cat naps. I checked in with myself about whether it was
hypothermia-induced sleepiness during the second nap, when it occurred
to me that it was strange to be so sleepy in the middle of a blizzard. I
believe I was just responding to the call to hunker down, the way the
animals do.
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Monday, September 8, 2014
Our Gathering
Just returned home after four days with my beloved "Gathering" community, forming many new friendships and connecting more deeply with old friends.
Today, as I heated up my tea water in our electric kettle inside our home, the memory of preparing tea at the gathering arose within and brought a sharp pang of longing. Each morning, I would head down from my tent to the central campfire, and join at least a couple of elders and several others of our community who would be sitting around it. I'd share of the hot water in one of the kettles sitting over the fire, then fill up the container for the next folks if it was running low.
I feel a well of longing and sadness within me, for the deep-rooted companionship we all shared there, living in the open air, the safety and encouragement to be as weird and fantastic as we all are, the easy joviality and silliness, the shared treasuring of the village we create together.
Today, as I heated up my tea water in our electric kettle inside our home, the memory of preparing tea at the gathering arose within and brought a sharp pang of longing. Each morning, I would head down from my tent to the central campfire, and join at least a couple of elders and several others of our community who would be sitting around it. I'd share of the hot water in one of the kettles sitting over the fire, then fill up the container for the next folks if it was running low.
I feel a well of longing and sadness within me, for the deep-rooted companionship we all shared there, living in the open air, the safety and encouragement to be as weird and fantastic as we all are, the easy joviality and silliness, the shared treasuring of the village we create together.
Thursday, August 21, 2014
Okay, I have to break the seal on writing again...here goes! We were talking with the kids about stop-action animation the other day, and my husband found a free program to make them online. Here is the result of our first foray into stop-action! (We decided it's Gus the Friendly Ghost eating our quesadilla, and then he give the leftovers to his friend Mouse.)
(The upload is quite jumpy; keep in mind this is just my in to start writing again!)
Saturday, March 29, 2014
Warmth & Mud
A flag for a windy day! My boy drew it with fabric markers (and a little help from me) on leftover scraps from a wrap I carried him in as a baby. Tied it to a stick and strapped it to our deck:
Today's warm weather had the kids outside for hours, he in pjs, she in her "twirly" dress. Here he works on his first mud ball of the year:
Her little feet, and her little footprints:
Spent last night with some new friends, supporting one in her courageous, laughing, crying healing. I was moved today to let down my usual guard of not getting myself "too dirty," and played full-on with the kids in the mud. They both made good use of my changed attitude, smearing mud all over my clothes, delighted to have me squelching my toes along with them in the frigid "ponds" they had dug in the soggy earth. Felt like the mom I always want to be.
Today's warm weather had the kids outside for hours, he in pjs, she in her "twirly" dress. Here he works on his first mud ball of the year:
Her little feet, and her little footprints:
Spent last night with some new friends, supporting one in her courageous, laughing, crying healing. I was moved today to let down my usual guard of not getting myself "too dirty," and played full-on with the kids in the mud. They both made good use of my changed attitude, smearing mud all over my clothes, delighted to have me squelching my toes along with them in the frigid "ponds" they had dug in the soggy earth. Felt like the mom I always want to be.
Friday, January 31, 2014
Spirit
Feeling grateful tonight for the rich communities I've been welcomed into over the past few months.
Many barren years have come and gone without revealing this honest, deep connectedness with other people outside my family. Now I look around and find that I am suddenly holding hands with many people of like mind, many people walking the same paths I am. Moving in unison toward the same distant drumbeat, working with the same vision in their hearts.
I give thanks for the turning of this wheel, for this new era of my life. I give thanks for each person sharing their truth, their tenderness, their fire, their willingness to be known.
Many barren years have come and gone without revealing this honest, deep connectedness with other people outside my family. Now I look around and find that I am suddenly holding hands with many people of like mind, many people walking the same paths I am. Moving in unison toward the same distant drumbeat, working with the same vision in their hearts.
I give thanks for the turning of this wheel, for this new era of my life. I give thanks for each person sharing their truth, their tenderness, their fire, their willingness to be known.
Thursday, December 12, 2013
Snow
View down to the river from my sit. I love the three layers of white.
Fox tracks (?), coming and going.
The wind-blown snow over the ice made galaxies, storm systems...
View upstream.
My summer swim hole.
Animals have been traversing the ice already, even though the river isn't fully frozen over yet.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
Flames
It is said that we all get a chance to take a truthful look at ourselves as our death approaches. That all the layers of doubt and fear and pretense and greed peel away in that moment, and we are left seeing the creature we were born as, the creature buried under a lifetime's accumulation of stories about ourselves.
As I stoked the fire in our woodstove tonight, I rested for a moment with the door ajar, the flames spellbinding in their dancing life. I'd only placed that log in a few moments before, setting it on the embers, but already it was in full flame, brown wood giving rise to light and life. It seemed the layers of growth in the wood were being pulled, one by one, into another form. The certainty of the wood, the expectation of its appearence, transforming into an otherworldly creation, sacredness.
What if we start the changes now? What if, instead of waiting until we can't stand it any longer, or until we are looking death in the eye, what if we peel those layers off now? Take a deep breath and let go, and look inward, and accept what we see there. And on, and on.
As I stoked the fire in our woodstove tonight, I rested for a moment with the door ajar, the flames spellbinding in their dancing life. I'd only placed that log in a few moments before, setting it on the embers, but already it was in full flame, brown wood giving rise to light and life. It seemed the layers of growth in the wood were being pulled, one by one, into another form. The certainty of the wood, the expectation of its appearence, transforming into an otherworldly creation, sacredness.
What if we start the changes now? What if, instead of waiting until we can't stand it any longer, or until we are looking death in the eye, what if we peel those layers off now? Take a deep breath and let go, and look inward, and accept what we see there. And on, and on.
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