We are the mermaids, mighty, mighty, mermaids

I started the mermaid warrior class and if the first class is a taste of what is to come, it is gonna be good! I watched the video yesterday morning and bought some moleskines (Barnes and Noble per Mermaid, the biggest size, but I got the next biggest and found myself wishing I’d listened to my mermaid-in-chief).

I started on my art journal today. Sometimes, I get overwhelmed with my ideas and then I do nothing at all. But I carved out time today because I need this. The cover is not necessarily done but this is what I have so far. I still would like to stamp “journey” on the cover and add a tie to it, but it got me thinking about making a pocket art journal kit to take with me to coffeehouses. I am not sure where all this will lead me…it is only the beginning of putting myself out there.

Be Brave

Yay Yay Yay — I did it! yesterday after resigning from my employment of the past 8 months I tried to add Christine’s button to my blog, but was going about it wrong.

I had an aha! moment when Marty and I were out for a drive doing errands, and figured out how to save the images.

Am thinking about buying her book. I am needing inspiration and sustenance big time. Of the creative kind. It’s about engaging, community, connection and so forth.

For the second time within the past two years I am unemployed, and a bit scared this go round as there will most likely be no unemployment. I have been marketing my granny nanny business (we have a huge elder population here on the cape) and through my recent work with primarily memory-impaired elders I realized what a joy it can be working with that population. And given that my beloved Evelyn died almost a year ago after her slow decline from Alzheimers, it is something I believe I’d enjoy continuing with. Part-time. I need something else too, particularly connection with kindred souls.

I tend to be all over the place creatively which is a problem for me. I envy people who know bling! this is my passion, this is my bliss — whether it be writing, cooking, gardening, painting, mixed media, sewing, knitting, whatever.

Part of the problem is that I tend to be good at many of the things I dabble in. I am not bragging, this is a huge part of the problem. It makes it very difficult to ground myself and focus on completing creative work to put out into the world because I get overwhelmed with the choices. So I end up frozen. Doing nothing but blogsurfing seeking inspiration, wisdom or whatever will light my fire to get my mojo moving. Hence, the be brave button is very meaningful to me.

Now I just need a stick with it button too. Commitment. Back to Christine’s blog to see if there’s something else to light a fire under my butt. I like this one

but I’m leaning more towards this one

…after all I have hit the half century mark. So it’s a good question. What the hell am I waiting for?

Natasha Richardson

I had been following the Natasha Richardson story since I first heard of it day before yesterday and was so hoping for the best. I worked in a trauma unit for years and had pretty much guessed what the problem was. Still, I hoped.

While lying in bed last night after watching the last of our Joseph Campbell DVD, Marty called very sadly to me from the other room, “She died.”
I have had a hard time thinking of much else. I’m not too crazy over celebrities, but I’ve always liked Natasha Richardson and Liam Neeson. Perhaps because they’re genuine and don’t make the tabloids every time you turn around. They had class.

I like what Susannah, a fellow countrywoman of Natasha’s wrote on her blog, “So today I honour Natasha Richardson; I hope she devoured her life, every thrilling glorious moment of it.” I do believe she did.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

I was in Cork City six years ago wearing my fresh shamrocks and celebrating St. Patrick’s Day with my family there. I’ll have to add a video of the 2009 parade when there’s one available. Until then I do wish I wasn’t so allergic to cats as this is a rather sweet way to say Happy St. Patrick’s Day! And while I know there are cat people who would disagree with me, I do believe (as other cat people have said about their own cats) there are some cats who think they are really a dog. Here’s one of ’em.

More Irish

Last weekend Marty and I went to the local St. Patrick’s Day Parade. It was a gorgeous day here, almost 70 and it was fun seeing my dad carrying the Irish flag for the local Sons of Erin, and my nieces in the Yarmouth Firefighters float.

Today we went to Newport, RI for their parade. Wow! So much green, so much fun. Not as warm but Newport’s cool and the crowds were jamming.

And so it goes…

I thought I’d write about surrender and radical acceptance but when I started looking at how to explain it simply (so that I could understand what the heck I was talking about), it all seemed so complicated.
But I love the concept — I guess it’s really nothing more than surrendering to what is without trying to change it. The irony seems to be that when you surrender, things start to change!!?! Letting go of the control, the ego, the judgment — very difficult to do, but when I have practiced radical acceptance (not often enough), I feel a huge relief. I feel so much freer.

Calling on My Warrior Goddesses

Here’s another one, a video that is. Yes, it may become a problem watching snippets of life here in a virtual world. Usually, I just read the words but there are times I need the hope and promise of possibilities that children remind me of — so I need the images, the music and the message. When you are struggling, feeling demoralized, confused, overwhelmed, call on your warrior goddesses. And remember, we are okay, we are all right.

March Madness

Just deleted most of my etsy shop before realizing that if I wanted to clear it all out, all I had to do was deactivate my listings for a while.
Oh well. Blame it on the weather…or the antibiotics…or March Madness…or bronchitis. Laryngitis. Too much sugar. Boredom. Isolation. Listening to my dog’s too long fingernails scritch scratch scritch across our wood floors as he paces constantly. Since he’s lost his hearing, he cannot be still for long. It’s like he can’t rely on his hearing to alert him to danger in his job as guardian of the homefront. So scritch scratch scritch…he paces, like the night watchman in the dark. Can’t see, can’t hear, but can still feel. Like him, I pace too. But only in my mind.