Hope for Haiti


Got a little sidetracked today — between Apartment Therapy escape and Haiti. It’s Haiti that’s got my heart though.

Please click on this link ( various organization from all walks of life) if you’d like to donate to Haitian eartquake relief efforts. Haiti is the poorest country in our neck of the woods, the photos are even more heartbreaking when you realize how grindingly poor they are and then to face this tragedy on top of it. Don’t discount even the smallest change — like one vote, I have seen pennies make a difference if only for a day.

Joe

Today’s my Joe’s 16th birthday. I’ve already taken him for the birthday walk and plan to get him a lovely beef rib at the butcher’s later today. I’ve had him since he was 6 weeks.

When my wasband (rhymes with husband, it’s my hairdresser’s term) moved out, A. was 10 and M. was 4. It was time for a dog. Basically, I swapped one Capricorn for another.

A. wanted a golden retriever, M. wanted a poodle. Believe it or not, Joe was a compromise. When I drove up to Milt’n (I won’t share any Milt’n jokes here, but real Vermonters know them well) to fetch Joe, it was early March and there was still plenty of snow on the ground. I drove way out over winding roads through East B*mF*ck, feeling like I was going deep into some hole I might never return from. I did — with Joe. It was a toss between him and his sister — a black and white version of him.

I do wish I’d gotten her, too, and had I realized female dogs can be easier than male dogs, I might have brought her home instead of Joe. (I also learned that an only dog can be a lonely dog). But no, I brought the Joemeister home.

A beagle mix with some tawny golden spots (if I stretched my imagination) and he was half poodle — if you can believe it. Apparently, around the time he and his sibs were conceived, his beagle mom had been spied cavorting with a poodle. I believe in the poodle dad for all the times I’ve caught him jumping up at the counter to pull various treats down (birthday cakes for one), or on the dinner table getting into the butter. When I took him to the vet the first time, I was told “he isn’t a highly trainable dog, but he’s got a lot of love to give.” Got that right. He does. We could learn so much from dogs.

Even people who aren’t dog people end up loving Joe, he’s such a personality. When my cousin, an avowed cat lover, visits, she gushes “Jo-oooo-e, isn’t he cute?” (the first time she said that was shortly after the table incident with the butter — and that was when he was about 14). The dog ate my homework excuse? Teachers, please, that could very well be true.

Needless to say, as he ages, I have had some scares (I really thought he was on his way out this past fall), but lately he’s been as gung-ho crazy as ever. There’s a blog I occasionally visit, and the first time I did, Michelle was worried about her 15 year old pooch, Duncan — it was around the same time I had my Joe scares.

I don’t know how I ended up on her blog yesterday, but I was sad to see Duncan was gone. I don’t believe there really is any one word big enough for the big feelings of deep love and deep loss. So I’m not even going to try — but sweet, crazy Joe — here’s to you, pal! may we have another good year.

The Year of the Blog

I came here today to write that I finished the website for the retreat, adding Mia Adams and two more classes for a total of 8 to choose from. It’s a great group of teachers — all unique but also synchronized to a similar vibration.

I am finding that the more I stay open and pay attention to what I encounter along my path, the more synchronicity I find. Synchronicity — Love that word. Thank you Dr. Helen Languth (referred to in this post), and Dr. Carl Jung. Went to Lavender and Limes website today and read of her giveaway. I’d forgotten all about that, I just happen to like her blog, plus she’s only a hop, skip and a jump from where I live. I’d love to catch one of her classes at the Learning Connection this month, but evening classes don’t work well for me, especially if I have to travel far.

So where am I going with all of this? Oh yeah — synchronicity — for me it was Christine writing that this is the year of the blog for her, and setting a minimum of 50 comments to follow through with the giveaway — smart girl! Good for you! I’d love to do some sort of giveaway regarding the retreat, a 20% discount or some such thing, but it is wise to set parameters.

I have a blog goal this year too, pretty much in synch with Christine’s, when she says “…this is the year of the blog for me, I want to spread the word about Lavender and Limes, increase readership and participation, and continue to generate original content. I also want to hear from all of you who visit me but haven’t yet commented…take a minute, introduce yourself. I’m not too scary and I won’t bite, promise!” to which I say “ditto!”

When I was taking the Mondo Beyondo class back in October, I nearly fell off my chair when I checked my blog stats one morning and saw more than 10 visitors! Double digits! I’m laughing now as I write this because for a while there I was checking my stats daily, but I sort of got out of the habit, so now it’s only occasional. Would I like more blog visitors? Hell, yeah! Would I like more comments? Hell, yeah! (except for the rocks, that is.)

** the above photo is what blogs are sometimes about for me — the sharing and connection…Eileen’s one of my longtime friends, Corinne I’ve known since she was two. She’s on her way to Afghanistan via Indiana first, and Eileen’s heartbroken. Please send her some love and prayers.

Teachers

At least one more teacher coming for the retreat, possibly two. Gathering teachers is not as easy as it sounds.

That’s been one of the hardest parts for me, besides the marketing. While I am definitely a people person, marketing is not my strong point. Selling, you know? I can sell when there’s no pressure, nothing at stake (my pride, definitions of success and so on). I can sell what I love that someone else has made, but not when it’s my own. It’s that struggle with ego and when to toot your own horn, when no one’s even heard it to begin with! But I’m excited to think the final pieces of the teacher puzzle are coming into place.

This process has taught me how much work is involved putting one of these things together — even a wee one like BEAR. I have tremendous respect for the herculean effort Elizabeth puts into Squam. It boggles my mind. When I saw five retreats listed on her site the other day, I gasped — and then clicked on her staff page which brought a big smile — just little ol’ her and Peg! How can you not love someone who dreams so big?

I believe in spirit guides, in the energy of a place and in the energy of beings gone before us — where so of and of whom we channel through our own existence and actions. Miss Alice Mable Bacon and Mrs. Mary Alice Armstrong are very much alive in Elizabeth MacCrellish. When she referred to her climb up Rattlesnake when all was said and done the other day and she saw a sign she’s never noticed on previous climbs, that’s when I knew.

“To the Aborigines, geography is memory. Every mile sings, every mountain speaks of their ancestors’ journeys. Nothing is irrelevant, nothing is lost to death. All things partake of life’s spirit and vitality, the land is vigorously alive, unseen forces flourish, and all have a special site (or Dreaming Place) that is a spiritual home for them and their ancestors.”
~ from my current bedside book, Deep Play by Diane Ackerman, one of my favorite authors.

** image from my heaven on earth, Owl’s Head, Groton State Forest, Vermont

Deep Play

Definition from the cover of:
n. 1. A state of unselfconscious engagement with our surroundings 2. An exalted zone of transcendence over time 3. A state of optimal creative capacity

Diane Ackerman is one of my favorite authors — if you’ve never read her book A Natural History of the Senses, then I suggest you skedaddle to the nearest library and check it out. It is exquisite, particularly when she writes about our sense of smell and our sense of touch, how/why certain customs and words evolved and so on.

The Zookeeper’s Wife is another good one. The latest I’m reading is Deep Play, and so much of it resonates with me on so many levels. My sense of place, my self-definition and the themes I encounter in my daily life — it’s like all of us on this planet really are pulsating to the same rhythm, at different times and sometimes the same time. One breath, one voice, one consciousness. Blows me away. I believe it’s a vibration we’re unconsciously aware of on a subliminal level when we engage in deep play,alone and in community. And the deeper we go in our play, the more in tune with others we seem to become.

More intuitive and sensitive to the subtle nuances and layers of meaning in our everyday language, geography, and encounters, more in touch with our essential spirits — that spirit that transcends time, space and our bodies. It can be scary and exhilarating simultaneously.

A state of heightened attention because we are so in the zone. Riding that Big Kahuna.

Down the Rabbit Hole

So…finally…down the rabbit hole that is Facebook. Where I’ve been lately. Other than doing a website for the retreat. Which is what led me to Facebook — reading that it’s a good marketing tool. Only I got sidetracked from the marketing. Because in the end what this whole retreat is about for me is process and connection. And I am connecting! I’ve avoided facebook forever even though I’ve had another account on it for awhile. It was just one more thing — in addition to a blog — that could possibly push me further away from my goal of real time connection. Ensnaring me with its wily ways, luring me to spend hours in front of a screen, after I’d worked so hard to wean myself from hours of daily blog reading.

In June 1974, my family and I stayed in a quonset hut on the edge of the Pacific, where we spent our last few days in California, before leaving Camp Pendleton to return to the east coast.
I was used to moving every two years as we were a military family, but as I grew older, it became harder.

I started feeling torn between two places when my father moved us to Cape Cod from Virginia. He was going to Vietnam (hard enough), and I was entering 4th grade. I missed Virginia terribly (all I’d ever really known was the south and military community). Until we moved to Ohio when my dad came back from the war. Then I missed the cape. We came “home” to our Cape Cod house on school vacations and summers. We moved back here after Ohio so my dad could finish college, and although I was glad to be back, I missed Ohio and the friends I’d made there.
Then my dad finished his degree and he received orders to go to California, something we were all very excited about. It was new and different to us. A place I’d dreamed about. But dreams and reality don’t always jive.

We moved there when I was going into high school and although it was a small, private all-girl’s high school where we were all new to each other, it was still not easy making new friends. I was a shy, sensitive and self-conscious fourteen-year-old. At an age, when breaking into new friendships is especially vulnerable. I missed my friends back “home” on the cape.

The summer between my freshman and sophomore years I went to a Junior Red Cross camp at UCSD that was a lot of fun and opened me up to California and its possibilities. My parents flew me home to Cape Cod for the rest of the summer while they stayed in California with my sisters.

Sophomore year at San Luis Rey Academy was easier as I reconnected and deepened connections made the year before. My first year in a new place was becoming my transitional year, so by the second year I became somewhat acclimated. And attached. Forming tender bonds that I knew could be broken by time and distance when I moved. Still, you do it. Knowing the risk. You make the connections. And form the attachments.

Then a June morning comes in 1974. You say good-bye to schoolmates who are finishing the year without you, and you look back out your car window to watch a shimmery, rosy dawn break over a receding Pacific horizon as you make your way east across desert and a vast continent. You think you’ll probably never see those people again, I mean how could you, the world’s a big place and how can we possibly keep touch through the years…when those things are going through your 15 year old mind on a foggy California morning, how could you possibly imagine almost 40 years later — that you’d see dawn break again over your California friends as you greet them on Facebook?

Blue Moon


12/30/09 Evening journal entry: Blue moon. Low tide. I can tell by the rotten egg smell. Cold clear sunset of winter blues streaking across the ocean’s horizon. I am time traveling again amidst the magic of twinkling lights along the Old King’s Highway.

We’re on our way to sup at the Beehive Tavern. Inside, the wooden booths with high wing backed benches, portraits of early settlers and dim lights propel me further back in time. I haven’t traveled this way in years. It’s good to go back, and I can’t wait to go again.

**Image from here.

2010

Haven’t thought of a word for 2010 yet, don’t know if I will (I love language and would have a tough time choosing just one).

I have done up a website for the retreat though — it’s still a work in progress There’s certain glitches I’ve hit (losing original content and so on when I make changes) but that’s all part of my [steep] learning curve. Squarespace is right on with the support and on a holiday, for goddess’s sake. I cannot speak highly enough of their service.

Overall, this ultra-fussy Virgo (6 planets in Virgo!) is totally digging Squarespace. I like my tea just so, the lighting just so, my shoes have to be just right, my pillow just right (Goldilocks had to have been a Virgo), and so on. So, to say Squarespace rocks the big house is an understatement. It’s only day 2 of my trial subscription, but I do believe I’m sold, sista!

Words


My brain is hemorrhaging words lately — I have books in progress (reading them, not writing them) all over the house and I’m also trying to keep up with some daily writing. Thankfully, I get a wee break today as Stephanie has graciously sent an incredible class description as well as her bio —

I met Stephanie through Pixie, whom I’ve followed and admired for some time now. Dreaming of Pixie teaching a class someday but thrilled to have Stephanie. She’s been encouraging me through my doubts as have the other teachers I have on the agenda and for this I am truly blessed. I believe 2010 is going to be a very good year.

And without further ado (I’m so written out lately, been writing all over and everywhere, time to get back to neglected reading), here’s the sensational Stephanie Anderson Ladd in her own words:

Meeting and Manifesting the Triple Goddess, a 2-day workshop facilitated by Stephanie Ladd, artist, writer, therapist

Introduction: The goddess is an eternal archetype in the human psyche. She has shown herself from the earliest days of civilization to modern times and appears in many guises — in nature, in movie stars and heroines we admire, and within ourselves as we learn to love the divine feminine that we each contain and reflect. The triple goddess can take many forms, such as the three virgin goddesses, Athena, Artemis and Persephone; or Hecate, the triple moon goddess whose three faces represents the new moon, the half moon and the full moon. But for the purposes of this workshop, we will explore the three life stages of the triple goddess represented by the maiden, mother and crone. It doesn’t matter which stage you are currently living in the outer world, we all have access to these three aspects and portals of inner vision at all times if we know how to call them forth. In this 2-part workshop, we will both meet and manifest the triple goddess within and honor at least one of these aspects by creating a 3-dimensional shrine and doll to take home.

Day 1 Meeting the Triple Goddess

In this 3-hour workshop, goddess participants will be taken on 3 guided journeys to meet the 3 aspects of the Triple goddess: Maiden, Mother and Crone. Each woman’s inner journey will provide them with a unique experience of their higher goddess Self in the three stages that we all have access to no matter what stage we’re at in life: the innocent, dreaming maiden; the active, nurturing mother; and the wise, experienced crone. Participants will journal and share their experiences and gifts they receive from the goddess within the circle. Before the end of the workshop, we will construct a shrine, gluing the parts provided so that they can dry overnight for the next day’s manifesting.

Day 2 Manifesting the Triple Goddess

In the 2nd 3-hour workshop, we will start with a nature walk and meditation in search of gifts from the goddess to include in our shrine and to use in creating a soul doll or effigy of one of the goddess aspects we wish to honor and work with. Then, goddess participants will play, decorating their shrine with paint, paper, fabric, collaged images and found objects and making a soul doll/goddess effigy to put in their shrine. We will then share our process and outcome with each other and close the circle with ceremony honoring the triple goddess within each of us.

About Stephanie Ladd: I love working and playing with the goddess within each of us, connecting with the divine feminine, and finding ways to manifest these qualities and share them with each other and the world. I am a licensed therapist who works with transpersonal psychology and creative ways of healing from the inside out, using archetypes, symbols, myth, writing and art to gain a deeper understanding of our soul and higher purpose. I have led many workshops and women’s groups and bring all of my experiences with Native American shamanism, Jungian psychology, and years of spiritual and psychological exploration to safely and gently guide women on their journey of self-discovery.

I love the photos I’ve chosen from her site, called Owl and Crow — both regal (or presidential I first thought, but I like the word regal better) and playful. Welcome Stephanie — we’re gonna rock the goddess kingdom!