democracy matters

We are waving our banner with pride - as we step up to protect our country, its principles, and its people against a Trumpian dystopia. 

Due to an increased demand and ever growing need Heather Cox Richardson has expanded her Letters from an American posts to American Conversations - informative videos all packed with sound advice. 

In her latest interview with technology reporter Gil Duran - they discuss recognizing the dystopian vision for human society from a select technology elite - and what we the people can do to disrupt this. 

The first thing people can do is recognize the pattern and expose it. This isn't chaos or random techno antics - this is an organized ideological project. 

interior castle

A rich interior life is a deep well to draw on when things get chaotic or challenging. That's why it is of utmost value that we be surrounded by what sustains and nourishes us. Being under constant threat or barraged by externals wears on us and eventually takes a toll. 

Two years without a home to call my own has been uncomfortable for a home body Cancerian crab of my nature. Moving clear across the globe and uprooting over fifteen years of my independent stake as a resident and citizen elsewhere is a total upheaval hard to prepare for - much less contend with. 

Tintagel Castle, Cornwall, England - Peter Unger/Getty Images

As this tsunami of change swirled within - the outer world squeezed and closed in - tighter, smaller, meaner. Spots of sunshine and delight grew farther apart, dimmed significantly, needed more effort to come by or sustain. 

How to feed that inner core, pour back into it some replenishment? Keep the big picture in focus, see it clearly, not let externals rub or rob it of its shine. Manage flow and progress so momentum is not impeded or halted, derailed or depleted. 

So much more is expended under unfavorable conditions than when there is full, fresh, firm love all around. Soft, tender, allowing grace - not noise, obstacles, judgement. That makes all the difference in the world.

Although we clearly want one and not the other its isn't always the case. Going where the river flows has the ease and expansiveness that struggling against the current does not foster. Seeing oneself through the filter of loving kindness is vastly removed from harsh heavy horridness. 

We love the most the one who loves us the most and we shrivel where love is withheld or absent. That's the truth. 

health in a year of drought

Tropical trauma - that's what this year in the Philippines feels like - for me personally. I was here the same time last year yet it feels like I landed in some foreign country I have never been - alien territory. 

I've been harping about the fact that the weather in the Philippines is so extreme we only have El Niño or La Niña conditions and all its dire options. 

high tide - Punta Bulata, Barangay Cauayan, Kabankalan

As an aging child of the seventies and proud boomer, I find myself particularly and personally challenged. Before May 24th's day long hard rain, we had not had anything like it since December. Too long a dry spell for our island home of Negros. 

maturity & mortality

Motherhood has been an elusive enigma all my life. What is motherhood? What does it mean to be a mother? It varies from individual to individual, from personality to personality, from experience to experience. 

Motherhood is all about feelings we hold in our heart of hearts. The love we feel. Towards our child, towards our mothers, towards our ideal of mother. Approached through our own lived experience and the stories we believe we live through. 

Issa & Mahala, New Year's Eve 2010

The joys and difficulties, complex and layered relationships, the sacred bond and dreams. 

I am labeled a single parent but am I really? My child and I grew and developed - surrounded by an ever morphing village of family and friends, strangers and carers - all part of our lives then and now. 

Parenting has been the most challenging experience of my life. The uncertainty, the conditioning, the expectations, the tears - hers and mine.

Every day I think, I can’t do this. Every day I think, there’s nothing I’d rather do. Loving this being who isn’t mine but of me.

It is effortless - it is love made manifest - immediate, indestructible, infinite. It is pure magic.

Yesterday, she hugged me so tightly and I hugged her back, so tightly. In that moment I felt indescribable gratitude for the fate that brought her into my world.

She is my magic too.

ora et labora

What exactly is the electromagnetic spectrum? In case you believe we are such geniuses, humans experience less than one percent of the spectrum. Yet within that narrow range there are awesome glories to behold. 

Do we really know best?

From low to high frequency the spectrum ranges are - radio waves, microwaves, infrared, visible light, ultraviolet, X-rays, and gamma rays. The electromagnetic waves in each of these bands have different characteristics. 

Such as how they are produced, how they interact with matter, and their practical applications. Most are invisible to us - they are beyond human ability to perceive and even deadly for humans to absorb. 

May Day

This year Beltane falls on May 1, Labor Day. Lunar Beltane falls on May 5. With a Scorpio lunar eclipse occurring as well. Be prepared for change - the great awakener. 

wishing all a blessed Beltane

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,

may the clarity of light be yours,

may the fluency of the ocean be yours,

may the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow

wind work these words

of love around you,

an invisible cloak

to mind your life.

~ John O'Donohue ~ (Echoes of Memory)

Give yourself the space you need. Find comfort in what brings you joy. Be the witness observing and objective - distanced and unattached. Be the explorer going into the deep unknown. Shine and emanate love and light - inside and out. Get creative. Simplify. Commune with Nature. 

Be the You you truly are and are constantly becoming. 

hold on to each other

Speaking to the grief, anger and fear in our current circumstances we search for workable responses to today's threats. We seek healthy and honorable ways to free ourselves of paralysis or panic.

nature honors naturally

There is no one answer that fits for all, different strokes definitely work for different folks. Take the time to create whatever sacred space and sanctuary that works best for you.

Many are deepening their spiritual or religious practices. I am grateful to be grounded in Shamanism as a way of life as it naturally incorporates love and respect for all things. Buddhism in its many manifestations and practices is another good anchor in these uncertain times.

Since its inception in the late 1970’s, “The Work That Reconnects” has helped countless thousands of people around the globe find solidarity and courage to act despite rapidly worsening social and ecological conditions. 

Created by Joanna Macy, it is a framework and methodology for personal and social change. It is influential work that, in the face of overwhelming social and ecological crises, helps people transform despair and apathy into constructive, collaborative action. 

It takes a village not just to raise a child but to create a community of connected collaborators that can nourish and sustain us effectively. Interrelating and interacting in interwoven lives and interests. 

soul identity

Love has no labels, no definitions.

It is what it is, pure and simple.

Love is the Water of Life.

And a Lover is a Soul of Fire.

The Universe turns differently when Fire Loves Water.

~ Rumi's Sun: The Teachings of Shams of Tabriz ~

Ram Dass speaks about the soul being like a step on the ladder that you are later going to throw away. Soul Identity is the process of realizing that you and I exist on more than one plane of awareness simultaneously. On one plane suffering stinks and on another plane suffering is grace.

We feel this in the loss and grief for a beloved, whether it is a person, thing or situation. However much love we invested affects how much we feel the absence when what is so loved is lost.

memoricide - a spreading worldwide dis-ease

Ilan Pappé, Israeli historian and political activist, refers to the uprooting of Palestine's indigenous olive trees and the massive erasure of Palestinian history as state organized memoricide.

Memoricide is not just forgetting the past, it is the killing of our memory.

All over the world it seems governments, countries, organizations, and peoples prefer to bury a past that brings up messy issues with the possibility of attendant accountability or reparations.

The disrobing of Draupadi, 

Histories throughout the ages hold memory is an essential part of life. Memory is the love that forms the foundation which sustains and nurtures humanity in limitless ways.

for the love of Joni | then & now

Reading a tender homage to Joni Mitchell in the New Yorker magazine due this October 7. Capturing the images and drama perfectly - of life then and the trajectories that lead it here.

I had just moved to the big city, enrolled at the state university - martial law was so new and not as impactful as living on my own for the first time. 

It was a year of many firsts for me. 

where is the love?

Taking a break from all the resistance, revolution, and rallying to focus on some LOVE as we lead up to Valentine's Day celebrations.

What a challenge these times present - leaving us to question, "where is the love?"

At a time when the lack of respect for existence is met with expected resistance on so many facets and levels, remaining openhearted and connected is such a sruggle.

heartfelt happiness

Mid life woman 

you are not

invisible to me.

I seem to see 

beneath your face 

all the women 

you have ever been. 

Midlife woman

I have grown with you 

secretly, 

in another parallel, 

breathing with you 

as you breathed,

seeing with you 

as you see, 

lining my face 

with an earned care 

as you lined yours, 

waiting for you, 

as it seems 

you waited for me.

sitting in community

This Valentine's Day I contemplate the day's significance and the personal stories I have attached to it through the years.

St Valentine baptizing St Lucilla - Jacopo Bassano

I did not always have such lofty aspirations regarding this special occasion. Where I was born and raised we grew up with too much baggage attached to Saint Valentine and February 14.

Peace on Earth - goodwill to all our relations

flame in my heart
internal eternal flicker
living breathing fumes
kindled passion pureed
in the fire of my soul

furnace of my desire
internal eternal inferno
living breathing fervor
fevered fury ablaze
in my core and being

life lessons

In honor of Teacher's Day and in praise of all my teachers thru the years. . . .

Count yourself miraculously blessed indeed if at any time in your life you have had the sheer good luck to have a teacher push open the doors to your possible probables - awakening your awareness and igniting your spirit thru other ideas and perspectives. 

Hooking your imagination and drawing you into magical mysterious worlds so that - in however imperfect but distinct a voice of your own - you learn to grasp, formulate, and express your self, your hopes, your aspirations, and your desires. 

In my idyllic island paradise the first AHA! moment I experienced that moved me out of my fixation with myself as the center of my universe was at 13 when I started high school.  I was enrolled in classes with two English teachers who were polar opposites - inside and out. 

One class taught the lyricism in literature and writing.  The other class taught the mechanics of language and grammar.  Both teachers demanded the best and were strict disciplinarians.  One taught what she loved and the other worked as a teacher. 

When we struggled with the convolutions of Olde English, one teacher had us listen to Shakespeare's plays narrated by Sir Lawrence Olivier.  When we mutilated conjugations, the other teacher would shame us with her snarky sarcasm. 

We bloomed in one class and were shaken to the core in the other.  Either way, like young saplings we weathered thru and grew up.  Some better with the wear than others. 

By their example I learned from both teachers what worked and what did not.  The experience taught me how to approach life - happily or not. 

We can choose to learn our life lessons from a school of hard knocks.  Or we can illuminate life with the wonder and delight of discovery, change, and challenges. 

Either way the choice is ours completely. 

free falling fall

In the three days since I've been down this road the trees have begun to turn.  So much can change in just a matter of days or in an instant.  Who we are, what we do and how we evolve can all happen at any moment.  Why then do we go about our lives believing otherwise? 

We go about our lives pretending that being ok is good enough and even worth being grateful for.  Instead of focusing on blessings and consecrating our lives in sacred ceremony we put one foot in front of the other and fall into mindless routine. 

All along the way three days ago there was a languorous misty rain falling.  Lots of birds flocking overhead migrating south with the weather change.  All along the way I thought lovingly of how this route has entranced me for life.  How delightful it is to be back. 

Boundless energy and irrepresible joy fill my being with bold daring for the fate and destiny I careen towards.  I am propelled forward by a raptuous sensuality that awaits.  In tense anticipation and voluptuous expectation - I feel tingling ripples twanging tightly all over me. 

I give free reign to the physical desire that drives my dementia.  Reliving the sensual abandonment of previous torrid encounters.  Willingly held hostage by my beloved thief of hearts.  I am made aware of being vitally alive - that life is full of wonder and surprise, that hope brings possible probables. 

As long as I have this sacred space I have a refuge for my soul and a haven to express my spirit.  For succor and relief from pettiness and triviality.  So I don't fall for the urge to sweat the small stuff.  Taking my beloved self to distant realms, off to dream in pursuit of bold adventures, ineffable visions and heady interludes.

overused, misused & abused

Who are the loved ones we would die for? 

What price do we pay for the love we wish for? 

We love the most the ones who love us the most.  Or do we?  Do we not instead overuse, misuse and abuse those we are closest to?  What price do we pay in this fatal dance? 

I love.  You love.  We love. 

Practice paves the way to perfection.  Investing in it more raises its success rate.  Why not allow it to nourish and nurture us then? 

Why do we expect love to come naturally when we are neglectful?  We desire but are we willing to invest all for the immaterial and intangible that hold no guarantees? 

In earnest or in fancy what do we depend or rely on from our loved ones?  How do we express our love?  What do we do to be loving, lovable and beloved? 

Is our dance coordinated, collaborative, co-creative?  Is our step light, love and delight filled?  Are we in sync or at odds? 

Do we possess the balance, focus and clarity to commit to our chosen dreams and direction? 

Now?  Always?  Forever? 

a wedding, a funeral & finding love - all over the place

These past weeks have definitely been a roller coaster of emotions played out in the arena of life. 

A dear friend was married back home.  While another was buried. 

Beloved friends were over looking for their prodigal son.  Glad to report all's well that ended very well. 

I flew cross country on a hellacious 12 hour adventure with consequences I will only hear from in 30 days. 

All this and more and I am back home - in love and loving my life as it unfolds as it was meant to - with purpose and direction. 

wild & vulnerable

I listened to the Eurithmics song, 17 Again.  Love that Annie Lennox! 

The YouTube video reminded me that yup!  those times where like negotiating thru a war zone and mine field of an untamed heart and primal instincts.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8k-hU_YPL7o&feature=related

Today I am comforted by the wisdom in Rumi's ecstatic poetry. . . .

Love came, and became like blood in my body.

It rushed through my veins and encircled my heart.

Everywhere I looked, I saw one thing.

Love's name written. . . .   

on my limbs, on my left palm, on my forehead,

on the back of my neck, on my right big toe. . . . 

Oh, my friend, all that you see of me

is just a shell, and the rest belongs to love. . . . 

Mawlana Jalal Al-Din Al-Rumi
Philosopher, Sage & Sufi Saint