halloween...

In some circles, this is a huge holiday. And through it all, witches get a bad rap - witches, not to be confused with those who worship "the dark one." I'm thinking this morning that in all women there is a little bit of witch. Unlike some others I know, I don't associate this term with the darkness at all, so don't take it all personally and think that I'm name-calling. I am, after all, female, and thinking that the qualities of a good witch are something we should all strive to embrace.

Wicca.com explains it this way>>>

"Witchcraft in ancient history was known as "The Craft of the Wise" because most who followed the path were in tune with the forces of nature, had a knowledge of herbs and medicines, gave council and were valuable parts of the village and community as Shamanic healers and leaders. They understood that mankind is not superior to nature, the earth and its creatures but instead we are simply one of the many parts, both seen and unseen that combine to make the whole. As Chief Seattle said; "We do not own the earth, we are part of it." These wise people understood that what we take or use, we must return in kind to maintain balance and equilibrium. Clearly, modern man with all his applied learning and technology has forgotten this. Subsequently, we currently face ecological disaster and eventual extinction because of our hunger for power and a few pieces of gold."

I see no problem with this? I think somehow that those who founded some of the major religions were not comfortable with powerful women, wise women, healers, who understood the earth and her rhythms. And that they chose to demonize this peaceful ancient breed in order to take their power and rid the earth of this "blight". And so tonight, as the little monsters beg for candy, we will see many black witch costumes and tiny human beings with warts on their painted green noses. And I object.

I have an affinity for herbal cures, magic and the natural world. Perhaps in another life I was one of the wise women who was labeled evil and was driven underground. I have no penchant for sorcery, but a little love potion doesn't seem to me to be a bad thing. And I'm not boiling up any poisons to coat innocuous apples, instead a cup of organic herb tea would be just the thing to warm me up on a chilly morning like this one.

And I'm also thinking that perhaps it is not the witches who are threatening our children, but instead, the politicians and powerful men who fill their heads with nonsense and fear. Prescription drugs are prescribed for ADD, ADHD and hyperactivity. Are these not harmful to active, creative and beautiful children who perhaps, don't conform to the norm? And what about those who cover our fruits and vegetables with chemicals and shoot the the cows full of hormones? From oil companies to plastic manufacturers and loggers to strip miners, our world is being destroyed. Are those who run these companies evil? We don't need a magic ball to uncover the truth here, just a little wisdom.

This All Hallows Eve, I will embrace that goddess within...the witch who is wise, magical and peaceful - the witch who is beautiful and in touch with the earth - the witch who nurtures and understands that all creatures are indeed necessary for balance on the planet. Yes, this Halloween, I will be a witch.

white

The ground is white this morning...sending me back to Ohio in my mind. The earth seems still somehow when the snow falls. But I am not still today, but unsettled. I am not sure of the reason, but feel a great need to find a sense of who I am, what the hell I'm doing, and why I am here.

There's a bunch of stuff on the internet about some great violet pulse of light that was beaming down to earth from another dimension for 17 hours yesterday. Some "experts" reported that feelings and manifestation would be "increased a million-fold" during this span of time. Looking at yesterday, I realize I was intense. Most all of my feeling were deeply rooted and I couldn't seem to break out of the depths. When I felt good - I felt great. And the opposite was also true. Seems like I've had lots on my mind lately.

I guess I need to get out of my head and back into the present moment. This is not always easy for a girl whose brain never shuts off. In addition, I've been reading this really crazy book called, "The Children of the Matrix" which would freak out just about anyone. In a nutshell (no pun intended) the book proposes that we are all controlled by and intergalactic race of beings with hybrid DNA, going back to the time when Atlantis and Lemuria-Mu were in the "golden age."

Okay - sounds a little crazy, but the evidence is frightening - and I don't often use that word. My open-mindedness has been challenged. I'm trying to figure out if it's just my ego talking, or if the guy who wrote the book is a quack. Regardless, the information is good to file away in my little cabinet of a brain.

If the book is on the right track, how can I possibly choose who I should trust, and who is part of the conspiracy of control? And does it matter at all?

There are also mixed messages from the other side re: my meditation group, my relationship, and some new acquaintances. Perhaps it is me who is mixed, and the universe is only reflecting that... (yes, says a voice in my head.)

Mornings like this confound me.

I long to fall gently on the earth, like the snow, sure of my purpose and peaceful. A walk with Buddy may do me some good, clear my head, and leave me grounded. What I know is searching the internet only leaves me with a headful of unanswered questions - and there is absolutely no room in my brain for any more.

a moment of bliss

Some days begin just like other days. We have nothing big planned and no major event scheduled and yet, somehow, the universe throws us an unsuspected moment of true bliss.

Today I had one of those moments. I showered late, in the afternoon, planning to pick up my friend Deb at the Firestone dealer while her car was being worked on. We were going to Starbucks for coffee. I wore blue jeans, boots and a really great jean jacket with fake sheepskin lining - very cozy - and my favorite silver velvet gloves. The world seemed good as I zipped through the streets of Sioux Falls. The sun was shining, though the temperature was in the thirties. We sat in Starbucks discussing current events and life and love, and I looked out the window while I sipped the perfect peppermint soy mocha with whipped cream. Life was indeed good. And then, as if the gods were just as happy, the snow started to fall. Little flakes at first, which grew to be bigger flakes, blowing through the air. I felt giddy - like I did as a kid with the first snow of the season. I actually got butterflies in my stomach for the joy.

As if that weren't enough, I dropped Deb off and went to my favorite coffee store to get some fresh beans. I chose Tres Rios from Guatemala, which it turns out was the perfect choice as it had just been roasted this morning. The bag was warm when the clerk at Black Sheep put it in my hands, right after offering me a free cup of the day's special brew. Then he punched my punch card, and believe it or not...I now had 10 punches, which means a free pound of coffee on my next visit.

I bopped back into my cute little VW beetle with the heated seats, warm coffee beans in my hands, snow falling, cheeks rosy and my phone rang. My SO was calling just to say hello, and that he loved me.

I don't know about you, but this, to me, is pure bliss. And I just want to hold on to these moments forever. There will be less blissful days, weeks, even months. But today, for a perfect moment or two, the universe smiled a really big smile and aimed it at me. Best of all, I noticed. A little fresh coffee, a little light snow, a little love - what more could a girl ask for?

being present

I wake up and stretch, my body tight from lying in bed for hours, barely moving. I smile remembering where I am. For more than six months now I have been living in a new place, in a new relationship, yet it still catches me by surprise every now and then. But much of my life has become familiar again. Little patterns have emerged where there were none, and I realize that this is the cycle that we constantly repeat. And though we humans like to set ourselves above the rest of the creatures that share the earth, we are much like them, preferring the familiar to the strange or unusual. Unconsciously, no matter how much we try to keep things exciting, they slip into regular patterns. Like breathing, creating these routines is something we cannot not do.

And I am present this morning, noticing my patterns of life, and thinking about what I might change - not just to keep life exciting, but to make the most of my time and energy.

Not much of a morning person, despite the fact that I still get up with the sun, I find that the early hours are spent wandering about my life and accomplishing nothing. I can hardly get moving without coffee, and even then, my heart doesn't really start to beat until a few aimless hours have passed. I make mental lists of things to do, but can't do these things until later. I make myself get to work, then take a break at noon to get something to eat. Around 2 I feel energized, ready to accomplish something. This is my most productive time, though I'm not sure if it's guilt that motivates me, or whether this is what my body and mind choose.

And these patterns annoy me. Sometimes on a whim, I change things up a bit. This can be disastrous - for I rely on patterns to make sure everything gets done, and done properly. On days when I don't follow the routine, the coffee maker doesn't switch on when it should, the clothes don't make it into the dryer, the cats don't get fed, or the bed doesn't get made. Since I am present this morning, I ask myself...what if things don't get done? Is it a disaster? In most cases, the answer is no. Life continues, I breathe, and through the chaos, new ideas emerge, creative thoughts are born, and little things surprise me. And the big things...they take care of themselves somehow. The bills do get paid, the lights work, the animals play.

In the meantime, we live, we notice the beauty of the earth - a new rose on the rose bush, cardinals in the grass picking up seed, the way the sun comes through the window and rests on the tabletop. And this is a productive use of time and a source of joy - the reason we live.

a perfect day...

...I think. At least that's how I intend it. The weekend was absolutely full and included a trip back in time. This weekend's trip to Wetonka was specifically earmarked for loading up the truck with old furniture from Steve's grandparents' house that needs some refinishing. And so on Sunday morning, we ventured into the decaying rooms of their old house. We weren't the first to visit. Many critters had been there before, leaving destruction in their wake. I'm sure they were not happy we were visiting. But they remained quiet...in the walls, under the floor.

We toted out what we could repair and use first. An old dresser with a beautiful mirror was the first to emerge. It wouldn't be hard to fix, as it was quite intact. The old steamer trunk we pulled out of the corner will take more work, but would be beautiful with a little tlc. We also recovered three dining chairs, an old wooden tool chest, and a second dresser for Steve's cousin, Sarah. That was supposed to be it for the big pieces, but a trip to the garage revealed and old school bench, and a metal bed. I couldn't help but to think that I wish I could fix all of it - but there were things I just couldn't use, and I had provided us enough projects to last at least a year.

The furniture was amazing, but it was the small things scattered about that most stirred my heart and my imagination. Hanging on a hook in the stairwell was a blue satin strapless prom dress. The waist was tiny, and I wondered which of the Miller girls had danced in it and what their partner looked like. Did he wear a white jacket? Glasses? And did she think him handsome? Did he steal a kiss at the door before he went home? That house was full of girls, and the evidence was everywhere. They had been arts and crafts pros, making pictures for the walls which their mom framed. I saw them lounging under plastic chandeliers of green and gold that hung from the ceiling. Perhaps they read some of the Reader's Digest condensed books in the book case, pages yellow and damp. We found postcards, letters and cards sent with love, property deeds and and old cash register. Pots, pans, and antique kitchen utensils were still scattered on the table, and a cook book copyright 1915 sat on the countertop.

But in the midst of what was left in this old house, we found a family - we took a peek inside their lives. I thought it a shame that everything, so lovingly touched and cared for was now left lying on floors and moldy sofas. Our lives, I think are too busy to treasure the old, to see the beauty in things touched by those who have gone before us. What is old becomes trash, and we buy something new, cluttering our world with more stuff, instead of caring for the old, and taking ownership.

I know the task ahead is a little daunting - cleaning up the furniture, polishing the metal and reconstructing the drawers. But the beauty of it is that the spirit of the stuff remains. When I pull out a drawer in the old dresser, and place linen napkins inside, I will do what Grandma Miller did years ago. And her heart will join with mine for just a moment. She will smile from the other side when her grandson sits on the chair she carefully chose to match the table that exists somewhere else.

Today I will begin the process, and it will be a perfect day. I will clean the wood, and wash out the pots. I will take care to be gentle, and will find time to reflect on a time when these things were used and the people who cared for them before me.

And so time passes, and remnants of life are left behind for others. I wonder what I will leave when I go. Will my grandson's girlfriend say, "Let's restore your mom's dresser," not knowing that it belonged to a woman who lived two generations before me. Should I leave a note inside the top drawer...this belonged to Steve's Grandma Miller, which she left for me to find in 2006. I'm not sure how old it is, but treasure it as I do.