Violence

"Actions, rhetoric, and consequences are not separate islands—they feed each other."

I have read this sentence in a few places and would like to attribute it to someone, yet I am not finding the direct source. I do find wisdom here though. And, in addition to actions, rhetoric, and consequences, I also add 'thought' to this sequence as it naturally precedes the others. Most importantly, what I find interlaced between thought, action, rhetoric, and consequence is our own deeply personal and reactive nature.

So much of what we pay attention to moment by moment is deeply reactive. Current events are triggering. And paying deep attention to these events feeds a certain kind of addiction to the drama. We know this, right? We're drawn in and we immediately lose our perspective and commitment to be present, thoughtful, clear, and communicative. This isn't our fault. This is how we're wired. Sure, we can be balanced within this all without being inundated, yet balance is not easy to find for most of us once we dive in. The world is not black and white, not cookie cutter, and yet our reactive systems try to make us believe this to be true. Us vs. Them. Right vs. Wrong. Left vs. Right. You catch my drift.

So then, much of how we're moving collectively nowadays comes from this reactive and fractal place in our system. Violence also comes from this place in our system. The traumas we have sustained (and are sustaining) come from this system. I'm not saying you are a violent and traumatized person... yet here we are. We're human. And we're hurting.

We need to heal. All of us. And it starts with the person you see in the mirror, not the person on the other end of your pointed finger/accusation. It starts with the voice(s) in your head. It starts with your thoughts and thought process. It starts with being held accountable. It starts with understanding we can carry this responsibility for ourselves, and we can help to carry it for one another. I do not think we can do this by ourselves, and we certainly cannot do it in our shallow echo chambers. This is going to take work.

Truthful, peaceful, and deeply productive conversations need to happen. Everywhere. Now. Pointing fingers and placing blame... especially on social media? This goes nowhere. Time to move forward. Time to evolve.

I can share that two family members have died due to gunshot wounds. I was raised by an angry and verbally abusive mother whose volume and intensity increased steadily as she got older. I was four months pregnant with my daughter on this tragic day twenty-four years ago. I have actively worked with depression and suicidal thoughts since I was fourteen. I am no stranger to violence and the voices in my head, and I know full well my own reactive nature. I was raised to fight and to push through. To be hard. I can access this even now, yet it is not my nature. It is not where I am in balance. I speak freely about these things, especially with my daughter, because I have needed to heal these places within myself. She deserves to know the truth, and she too deserves to heal from these generational patterns.

This is why I do the work I do. It inspires me every single day. It starts with me; the woman I see in the mirror. I want to be held accountable for my thoughts, actions, and rhetoric; and I sure do want to be aware of the consequences.

We can all do this. Together. Bless our path.


Until next time I offer these words of wisdom for better or for worse. Please take them with a grain of salt for we each live our own individual truths. Our mission while we are here is to understand, accept, and celebrate that one very simple, but incredibly significant fact. For all this, I am grateful.


Reflecting on Death and Dying

My dad’s memorial service was held one year ago on this day. His and my mom’s ashes were then buried together in the cemetery where four previous generations of his family are interred. I felt immense relief at the end of the day one year ago, in completing the last step of holding my dad and honoring him as best I could during the six years we cared for and advocated for him. I imagined that I’d feel more myself at the end of the day one year ago, more like the sense of my self had come back in.

Yet, as I sit here today, I can share that I am somewhat more lost than ever. I became an empty nester at about the same time as I became an orphan. My life had been dedicated to parenting, and then to caregiving. So, now passed the crossroads of these milestones, I now have the luxury of reflecting and of finding balance.

I don’t know if I’ll come back from caregiving with the same lightness I once carried. I seek to see the world with freshness again, yet I am bone weary. I wish my parents had the courage to communicate with each other and with me about their declining health and their needs as they got older. Instead, they slammed phones and doors and avoided me, shutting out any possibility of conversing about what was inevitable. That day finally arrived when my mom suddenly passed, and it all came crashing down on my shoulders. I wish I had been prepared. I wish I had been more resilient. Most of all I wish I missed my mom and dad now. I don’t, especially her. This makes me sad, yet I am so much more relieved they are both free from their suffering; her from her demons and him from his pain.

Caregiving shattered me and it crushed me. I’m not sure how else to put it. We moved through each day working off sheer will and instinct. Outside of the high demands of his physical needs, his mind was both beautiful and complicated. He was lost when my mom died: she controlled every part of his life. Thankfully she went first. I realized immediately that I could be there for my dad. If he had passed first, there is no way in hell I could have cared for her. Sitting with sixteen months between his passing and where I am today, I know for sure now there is absolutely no way I’d go back and take care of my dad again if I had the choice.

Today I invite my heart to break open so I can peel back more layers of our complicated family dynamics. Today I have time to reflect. Today I can share too that too many years of holding complications internally does not fare well for our physical health in the long run. Life is complicated. Family dynamics are complicated. I am willing to admit that I am complicated.

Here’s to healing and releasing, opening and allowing softness back into our bodies, our lives, and especially our hearts as we all make our way forward. Here’s to quieting the multitude of distractions so the mind can fully clear.

I want to recognize those in my tribe who have stayed close, especially my husband. I have not been myself for a very long time. It is truly beautiful to see who has remained with me, holding my hand and heart tenderly in the stadium of life after a big game, after the sun has set, and the crew has turned off all the lights. From this place of supported darkness, we can truly see the stars and the moon shine.

Someday, I hope to help others feel more prepared if they find themselves in the same position. Death and the dying process are not the worst of what I faced: they have been the most magical aspects of this entire experience.

(This is the last image taken of my dad and I holding hands. He passed a few hours after this was taken.)


Until next time I offer these words of wisdom for better or for worse. Please take them with a grain of salt for we each live our own individual truths. Our mission while we are here is to understand, accept, and celebrate that one very simple, but incredibly significant fact. For all this, I am grateful.


Here's to Mondays

So to counteract the doom and gloom of our country's ongoing political meltdown crap show, I now choose to share something that brings me great joy.

I freaking love Mondays. I've had friends laugh through the years when I share this with them, and they then ask me what the hell am I thinking! Yet why not look at Mondays differently? Mondays get a bad rap collectively, and so from the time I was young, I decided I would look at Mondays differently. There's gotta be an upside. And there sure is. And it all comes down to what we choose to believe.

On this Monday, I am celebrating my new Whole Seed Catalog and all of the promise it carries. This is my spring go-to for garden inspiration and ideas. And, while I'm at it, I love my old Bass canvas bag. This workhorse has been by my side since I was 14 and she's still going strong. Who needs new, fancy, trendy and expensive when you have trusty, sturdy, and dependable? (This, by the way, is how I look at most material objects.)

On this Monday, what brings you joy? Let's shift our worlds. Let's share what brings us joy and life and happiness.


Until next time I offer these words of wisdom for better or for worse. Please take them with a grain of salt for we each live our own individual truths. Our mission while we are here is to understand, accept, and celebrate that one very simple, but incredibly significant fact. For all this, I am grateful.


Active Labor

Almost a full month out now from my dad’s passing and I am beginning to rise with fresh eyes and renewed heart. I have seen how his beautiful and effortless transition has freed him from his great suffering and me from his care. Becoming a spontaneous caregiver and logistics holder for my dad six years ago has changed me forever. There have been many blessings, and I also realize the life-altering events that have taken place. I am beginning to deeply grieve the life I was creating at that time. These past six years have not allowed me to pay much attention to anything other than what is directly in front of me each day with Dad's needs and the immediate needs of our family.

It did not take long for me to recognize these years have felt deeply akin to my active labor process when my daughter was emerging from my amazing body 22 years ago. Six years of active labor with Dad’s release have gifted me the moment that, upon his passing, I sat back in full awe and utter amazement. I held Dad through the morning and then through the moment of his transition. Once words could be found, I shared with Dad’s beautiful hospice nurse that I felt like I had just witnessed a baby being born… it was nothing short of miraculous. This feeling of amazement was so very similar to the miraculous moment I held my daughter in my arms for the first time.

I recognize the gift of seeing this world washed anew and what life means to me now. I am raw, vulnerable, exhausted, grieving the life I thought I would embody, and I am hopeful. I am celebrating the love and the friendship my dad and I still share even though he is no longer embodied. I am grateful for having an amazing support network holding me tightly even now. I am holding all of this so tenderly and with immense presence and care.

My husband said to me upon Dad’s passing, “You have been running a marathon every day for six years. It is now time for you to rest.” And so, I shall. I will rest. I will grieve. I will also rebuild with a completely new foundation of what I am understanding now to be aligned with my path and calling as I embrace this second half of my life.


Until next time I offer these words of wisdom for better or for worse. Please take them with a grain of salt for we each live our own individual truths. Our mission while we are here is to understand, accept, and celebrate that one very simple, but incredibly significant fact. For all this, I am grateful.


Crossroads of Change

I am welcoming my Self into these Autumn energies by deeply embracing creative needs. I am playing with inks and paints and pens and brushes again. I am writing every day. I am receiving support from mentors and bodyworker-healers. I am investing deep time offline and enjoying the process of hearing my own voice and heart. I am embracing more closely the cycle of life and death, the sun and the moon, lightness and darkness, the change and pace of seasons... and the greatness of it all. I am working with my amazing partner to reconfigure space in our home to suit our needs for family and creativity and work. I am deeply enjoying this powerful, creative, soft feminine way of being in the world.


Until next time I offer these words of wisdom for better or for worse. Please take them with a grain of salt for we each live our own individual truths. Our mission while we are here is to understand, accept, and celebrate that one very simple, but incredibly significant fact. For all this, I am grateful.


Creative Needs

I am welcoming my Self into these Autumn energies by deeply embracing creative needs. I am playing with inks and paints and pens and brushes again. I am writing every day. I am receiving support from mentors and bodyworker-healers. I am investing deep time offline and enjoying the process of hearing my own voice and heart. I am embracing more closely the cycle of life and death, the sun and the moon, lightness and darkness, the change and pace of seasons... and the greatness of it all. I am working with my amazing partner to reconfigure space in our home to suit our needs for family and creativity and work. I am deeply enjoying this powerful, creative, soft feminine way of being in the world.


Until next time I offer these words of wisdom for better or for worse. Please take them with a grain of salt for we each live our own individual truths. Our mission while we are here is to understand, accept, and celebrate that one very simple, but incredibly significant fact. For all this, I am grateful.


New Beginnings

I have always found writing to be inspirational and transformational. Creating connection and healing through words has been my primary form of work for a decade, and yet writing creatively outside of work with regular intent is something I have put on the back burner these past five+ years while my world regularly danced and dangled me upside down. As space comes back into my life, so do the shapes, images, colors, textures, channels, and words that flow through me. To say the least I am very excited.

This coming Sunday I begin a new project dedicated to writing and rest and soul work with an exceptional writer I have followed for many years. Join in if you feel called. I find David Whyte's "Three Sunday Series" to be a small and manageable commitment that will pay off for many moons to come. My fountain pens are inked, and my journals are ready.

https://live.davidwhyte.com/


Until next time I offer these words of wisdom for better or for worse. Please take them with a grain of salt for we each live our own individual truths. Our mission while we are here is to understand, accept, and celebrate that one very simple, but incredibly significant fact. For all this, I am grateful.


The Art of Change

Wow... I shared this image SIX YEARS ago on Facebook?

The world was a very, very, very different place for my heart and reality six years ago. Never ever would I have imagined the shifts our family would move through since then, especially beginning in April 2018. I am choosing to celebrate It All.

My husband and I shared a good old-fashioned gratitude-induced cry in the kitchen this morning. We have been by each other's side since 2015 (living 3.5 hours away from each other for most of this time) and for that I am incredibly grateful. So much to share and so much to honor, especially these home spaces that have held us through the years. The invitation continues to open for so much healing and rest and connecting here in this current reality after all we’ve moved through, especially after the massive shake-ups of the past five years. I am grateful and happy to understand I am feeling a bit more robust each day and I am looking forward to some mighty adventures in the coming months.

Still, I am feeling nostalgic for this amazing space I called home for five beautiful years between 2013 and 2018. I miss this garden.... those rocks and that quince... the apple tree in the back where the doe would graze in the late summer mornings and evenings while their fawns stayed close by in the tall grass. I miss that double rocking chair. I miss that beautiful barn. I miss being close to the circle of my closest women-sisters, knowing this home and the spirit of this home held so many of us women and our children and our dreams through deep life transitions. I miss drinking coffee out of that fantastic mug (she holds paint brushes now in my creative space). I miss the idea of what I thought the years between 2018 and 2023 would look like.

Yet, it's all been so beautiful and filled with blessings despite the different and immediate circumstances I was invited into. Different and difficult yes, yet marvelous in so many ways and grounded in instinct and the power of rootedness to place and what Home really means to me. Life is full of change, and while I have been practicing the Art of Change for almost all of my close-to-50-years on the planet, I can say the last five years have really been the biggest learning curve. I know I carry forward so much from these times of learning including my heart who is softer and more open and receptive than I could ever imagine.

I Am Here, no matter where my heart finds herself. I Am Home now, no matter where my home space may be. I Am Grateful for It All <3


Until next time I offer these words of wisdom for better or for worse. Please take them with a grain of salt for we each live our own individual truths. Our mission while we are here is to understand, accept, and celebrate that one very simple, but incredibly significant fact. For all this, I am grateful.