I haven’t had a deliberate moon practice in a bit, but the Wolf Moon of 2015 seems like a good starting point for me, particularly as it relates to protection of self, hearth, and family (my idea of it anyway). I have a huge gold glass ashtray from my mother’s smoking days and it’s perfect to burn my sage in, as well as slips of paper I’ve written on — guilt, judgment, fear, clutter and doubt. These are things I am looking forward to releasing in the coming year — a huge task for me, but if I were going to have Colleen do a phrase for me, it would be what I remind myself when faced with big ideas — “baby steps.” Mother, may I? And a resounding “yes” is what I hear.
…today and everyday for that matter because it comes up so much for me:
“The root of the word “jealousy,” is actually an old French word, jalousie, meaning “enthusiasm, love, longing.”
Not jealous of this girl though, only happy and proud — my daughter’s off on solo travels this minute en route to Bali for 6 weeks. A huge thank you to my Squam pal, Cheryl, for hosting her in San Francisco before today’s departure.
I was born on a Monday and I always love it when my birthday falls on a Monday. Just finished the cake with my sweetie, my dad and my daughter here. My mom’s down the street, probably enjoying the cake I sent home to her with my dad. 9:09PM another year turns for me. I love that my birthday month is the same month as the Jewish New Year. There’s lots of love going around on a birthday if we are fortunate. I am.
I’ve been blowing through countless mysteries in between the non-fiction I read. Books are my escape, my solace, part of my journey and healing when I am scared and uncertain. They are my self-soothing default (besides prayers) when I am struggling with what is beyond my control (essentially everything that is not myself).
When Women Were Birds has been on my must read list for some time (as are Williams’ other books). Her words and Rebecca Solnitt’s resonate profoundly with a deeper part of myself that I’ve neglected for the past several years, and it’s time for another resurrection. It’s that part of myself that recognizes a sacred path, and that I will be okay if I can trust. Trust is so scary when there is that constant fear of loss.
I start drafting blog posts, and then question how much of my monkey mind I want to share. So I will leave you with another quote today, one I discovered on Milla’s blog (I was familiar with Terry Tempest Williams from listening to NPR for so many years but have yet to read any of her books!).
Because of this quote (and a few others), I’m not feeling as resistant to the word Crone these days. Besides men at this stage of life hanging together are sometimes referred to as “cronies!” And I think of myself more and more as Crow. I love Crow.
So, a quote for you and a link for you also. Don’t know when I’ll have time to read her blog, but I do love that she practices NVC, and has some great new-to-me words (like “destuckification”) in her personal glossary.
“Once upon a time, when women were birds, there was the simple understanding that to sing at dawn, and to sing at dusk, was to heal the world through joy. The birds still remember what we have forgotten, that the world is meant to be celebrated.”
You know the intuitive knowledge you remember but that you sometimes forget you remember? I’m doing this daily prompt with water, and am finding synchronicity all over the place again. Synchronicity, magic, oh how I’ve missed you!
“If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”
– J.R.R. Tolkien
“To eat is a necessity, but to eat intelligently is an art.”
– François La Rochefoucauld
“There is always one moment in childhood when the door opens and let’s the future in.”
-Graham Greene, The Power and the Glory
My introductions to these quotes from the following:
First two from wysiwygfestival.com — wish I were going. I am in a Vt state of mind these days.
The third quote is from the latest book I’m reading, Too Close to the Falls, by Catherine Gildiner.
A quote from Cool Runnings:
“If you’re not enough without the gold medal, you won’t be enough with it.”
Until I get my writing mojo back, I’m sharing quotes I like. Here’s another one:
“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming “Wow! What a Ride!””
~ Hunter S. Thompson
“When my friends began to have babies and I came to comprehend the heroic labor it takes to keep one alive, the constant exhausting tending of a being who can do nothing and demands everything, I realized that my mother had done all of these things for me before I remembered. I was fed; I was washed; I was clothed; I was taught to speak and given a thousand other things, over and over again, hourly, daily, for years. She gave me everything before she gave me nothing.”
― Rebecca Solnit, The Faraway Nearby
Lately, I’ve been re-inspired to try blogging again. I’m not kidding anyone but myself to say I wouldn’t like to engage in conversation with a kindred community. I love it in the real world, but I realize it can also be enjoyable in the virtual world. However, finding bloggers who resonate with me is sometimes difficult. There’s really only a handful. And sometimes, the ones I once liked I outgrow, usually because I find the writing voice becomes hollower, echoing more and more as their popularity soars with a particular audience’s voices, until soon, they all start sounding the same. I get bored quickly (and somewhat uncomfortable) with too much of that. I love sharing the things I get excited about, be it a book, a blog, British comedy, local travel, women’s history, life. Which brings me to Milla. She’s a Finnish girl who married a Bear and lives with him out in the great northwest woods. She’s a real person, writing about all the things I like — basically just sharing the sh*t friends share without getting into marketing what is essentially the role friends once played in our lives. What I wore, what I baked, where I went, oh the stars are beautiful on this brilliant winter eve, what I believe, what I read, listened to, thought. All that was real and true before it became about a brand and money. Because, unlike what the title of the book proclaims, I do care what my friend had for lunch (but more especially, breakfast, because, you know, I like breakfast more). I might not remember it by tonight, but I do care.