Trips always offer eiphanies for me. I just returned from one to Washinagton, D.C. As good luck would have it, I was there this past Friday. My son and I walked several blocks to the Supreme Court. We wanted to be there with so many others celebrating the Supreme Court's decision to legalize same sex marriages.
Now I admit to being baffled, shocked, aghast that this was ever an issue. How can love be an issue? How can we select who has rights and who does not. Clearly, to make a decision to say any living thing does not have rights is to be unevolved.
Animals, people, the planet have rights. Have I missed any living thing? Of course, I have and you can fill in the blanks. But I HAD to be there. So did my son. We had to stand for all those who could not have been there.
I thought about the OTHER judges who did not vote for this. The sadness is palpable. How can anyone deny love. To deny love is to deny life. But I won't go in that direction. Not today.
I am careful about who I allow in my world. Not everyone gets in. One, they must be comfortable with their emotions. Two, they must be progressive. Three, they must be my friend. I type that all with an empty glass of what was recently Moscato to my right. The dryer goes round and round as it finishes the final load of laundry from my trip. I am glad. Ectastic to be home.
I think I am becoming a hermit. By design. I really do not like to be around lots of folks anymore. Or chaos. Or negativity. Or poorly designed bathrooms where I body surf out of a dangerously slippery tub shower onto a similarly slipper ceramic floor. The bruises abound.
Coming home to a place where I feel comfortable. Safe. Happy. It never gets any better than this. The ephipanies. They are too numerous to count. I'll be thinking about them all week.
There is no place like home.
Monday, June 29, 2015
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Into The Woods
For much of my life, I have had the desire to go into the woods. To get away from the socialized way of life, the naysayers, the controls, the unnecessary busyness. I have that desire now. I find myself disappointed with local environmental non-profits - disappointed beyond belief. This is a good place to begin this note to you.
I am disappointed because they are often outlive, barely, I might add, their so-called leadership. I see them as the band of merry players. Trying to gather the folks from the 60's, that decade of activism. The so-called 'leadership' has seen its day. Sadly, they don't retire, don't move to a position more suited to them. They just go on. And on. With fewer and fewer members. I am sad because these are very good people. And sad, because they simply cannot get out of their own way.
In them, I see myself. Of course I do. How could I not? We all trample ourselves down this path we call life. We are the "poor player who struts and frets his hour upon the stage and are heard no more." Apologies to the Bard of Avon (Shakespeare) who said it far better than I.
Not too long ago, I listened to a friend gripe about their life. About the people who were not what they wanted them to be. The person reminded me of another long ago in my life. Always looking for what wasn't right. "I don't like people," they would say.
People are like nature. Striving to reach the sunlight, striving to be nurtured. To matter. Strutting their hour on the stage. Can we not grant them love and compassion?
My sustenance is always in the woods. Always by water. With close friends. With myself. I have the desire to go deeper into the woods. Deeper into myself. For I, only I, am the cure. Forever and always.
Into the woods.
I am disappointed because they are often outlive, barely, I might add, their so-called leadership. I see them as the band of merry players. Trying to gather the folks from the 60's, that decade of activism. The so-called 'leadership' has seen its day. Sadly, they don't retire, don't move to a position more suited to them. They just go on. And on. With fewer and fewer members. I am sad because these are very good people. And sad, because they simply cannot get out of their own way.
In them, I see myself. Of course I do. How could I not? We all trample ourselves down this path we call life. We are the "poor player who struts and frets his hour upon the stage and are heard no more." Apologies to the Bard of Avon (Shakespeare) who said it far better than I.
Not too long ago, I listened to a friend gripe about their life. About the people who were not what they wanted them to be. The person reminded me of another long ago in my life. Always looking for what wasn't right. "I don't like people," they would say.
People are like nature. Striving to reach the sunlight, striving to be nurtured. To matter. Strutting their hour on the stage. Can we not grant them love and compassion?
My sustenance is always in the woods. Always by water. With close friends. With myself. I have the desire to go deeper into the woods. Deeper into myself. For I, only I, am the cure. Forever and always.
Into the woods.
Sunday, June 21, 2015
Remembering A Father
Father's Day or Mother's Day isn't much of a holiday for me. Not for my memories of my own parenting bymy biological parents or for myself as a parent. The latter is simple. My children do not live nearby.
The former requires some explaining. I didn't have much of a relationship with my own father. The memories I have of him s a child, say under ten were dear ones. He was fun, took us swimming, taught us to camp and love the woods as he did. I kept up with that legacy, though not as much as I would have liked. Circumstances present themselves. I do live in the woods now. I am grateful for every moment here.
As I began developing my own personality, my father and mother became distant with one another. I never remember them being intimate or affectionate with each other. I do remember them going out together - parties and dancing.
Dad changed on my eleventh year. He became demanding, aggravated, distant. He once went three months without speaking to me. This was ever present in my childhood with my parents. Their unhappiness became mine. Until I could grow out of it which I mostly did.
When he walked out that Good Friday, I rarely saw him again. He remarried and made a new life which did not include my brother or me. He made it clear he did not want me to live with him.
I wish I could wish him a Happy Father's Day. I don't. I do remember happy times with him, few that they were. I also know he was a deeply unhappy, depressed man who didn't take much responsibility for his family.
If I remember anything, gifts or not, it is the love of nature, the love of the woods. Happy Father's Day, Dad. I wish you could have enjoyed it with me.
The former requires some explaining. I didn't have much of a relationship with my own father. The memories I have of him s a child, say under ten were dear ones. He was fun, took us swimming, taught us to camp and love the woods as he did. I kept up with that legacy, though not as much as I would have liked. Circumstances present themselves. I do live in the woods now. I am grateful for every moment here.
As I began developing my own personality, my father and mother became distant with one another. I never remember them being intimate or affectionate with each other. I do remember them going out together - parties and dancing.
Dad changed on my eleventh year. He became demanding, aggravated, distant. He once went three months without speaking to me. This was ever present in my childhood with my parents. Their unhappiness became mine. Until I could grow out of it which I mostly did.
When he walked out that Good Friday, I rarely saw him again. He remarried and made a new life which did not include my brother or me. He made it clear he did not want me to live with him.
I wish I could wish him a Happy Father's Day. I don't. I do remember happy times with him, few that they were. I also know he was a deeply unhappy, depressed man who didn't take much responsibility for his family.
If I remember anything, gifts or not, it is the love of nature, the love of the woods. Happy Father's Day, Dad. I wish you could have enjoyed it with me.
Wednesday, June 17, 2015
On Birding
As a child, birds fascinated me. I remember asking a neighbor if he would make me a birdhouse. He agreed to construct this for me. After finding the plans, I submitted them to him. A few days later he knocked at the door to our home and presented me with the birdhouse.
Almost immediately I painted the house. The roof was black, the sides were white. The perch was red. I had a good color sense, even at ten. Because my home backed up to a large wooded area, I could always be found in the forest. Early morning until dinner time. Other girls my age played dolls. I played with my horses. Singularly.
And then there were the animals. That hasn't changed too much. I ride from time to time and I am still absorbed by birds. I suppose it is one of those interests that grow as one's world quiets down.
Cardinals abound at my house. Take a look at cardinal parents feeding their young:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1tWLDhJ6mjQ
Almost immediately I painted the house. The roof was black, the sides were white. The perch was red. I had a good color sense, even at ten. Because my home backed up to a large wooded area, I could always be found in the forest. Early morning until dinner time. Other girls my age played dolls. I played with my horses. Singularly.
And then there were the animals. That hasn't changed too much. I ride from time to time and I am still absorbed by birds. I suppose it is one of those interests that grow as one's world quiets down.
Cardinals abound at my house. Take a look at cardinal parents feeding their young:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1tWLDhJ6mjQ
Monday, June 8, 2015
Another Line Item
The future isn't what it used to be. I heard that so long ago. As a young woman, I laughed at the simplicity of it all.
The United States Postal Service. A mess. I sent an undersized card to someone two weeks ago. Today it came back in my mail with this attached on the front:
There was a time when letter carriers would fork over the requisite 21 cents and put an envelope out for their customer. That was anywhere but here. So, the card I sent never reached the intended person. Embarassing, but maybe more for the USPS than for me.
I found this service incompetent. Rude. Lazy. I am anything but impressed with the folks at my local post office. Tomorrow, I shall go in and share my feelings about this. Clearly, this is another line item on their budget. They need competition!
The United States Postal Service. A mess. I sent an undersized card to someone two weeks ago. Today it came back in my mail with this attached on the front:
There was a time when letter carriers would fork over the requisite 21 cents and put an envelope out for their customer. That was anywhere but here. So, the card I sent never reached the intended person. Embarassing, but maybe more for the USPS than for me.
I found this service incompetent. Rude. Lazy. I am anything but impressed with the folks at my local post office. Tomorrow, I shall go in and share my feelings about this. Clearly, this is another line item on their budget. They need competition!
Sunday, June 7, 2015
In Hope
No, it doesn't get easier. Month by month she hopes. I hope. Tests are positive. Then hopes are lost. If only for a time. Somehow we find the strength to hope again. Believe in the possible. Trust. Learn all we can. Try again.
In hope.
I wondered quietly. With all of the birds passing this week. Being pushed out of the nest. A metaphor. Maybe. It was in the back of my head. I listen. Feel. Hope.
In hope.
In hope.
I wondered quietly. With all of the birds passing this week. Being pushed out of the nest. A metaphor. Maybe. It was in the back of my head. I listen. Feel. Hope.
In hope.
Wednesday, June 3, 2015
Phoenix
If you know me well, you know I love animals. Even as a child, I rescued and cared for injured ones. Now living in the forest I am seeing lots of things. But nothing so exciting as having those four baby birds newly hatched on the porch. It is clear a predator has been visiting my porch both during the day and during night. I hope it is not the groundhog for its days are numbered. Yes, I get the food chain and all, but geeze, these little ones didn't have a chance. Why did the Mama birth so low to the ground? What is wrong with a tree?
I found a dead bird in part of the nest on the porch floor when I got home a little while ago. There was another one six inches or so away from it. It was barely moving and I put it back into the nest. There is another dead bird in that nest. I suspect the missing fourth one was eaten.
Mama bird just returned to what is left of her family. Before her return, I removed the nesting materials and buried one baby bird near my dogs ashes in the woods. Upon laying the bird to rest, I gasped uncontrollably. Here I was again burying another beloved animal. This is not getting easier.
Nature takes its course. I just wish it wouldn't do the deed three feet from my front door. It has been three weeks since I could use the porch and that was just fine. I expected the birds to depart sometime next week - fourteen days after hatching which seems to be when they fledge. Or longer if they needed more time.
It is somber on the mountain today. Clouds have covered a once blue sky. Thunder rolls in setting off my National Service Radio. It has been a hard day, a hard few days if truth be told. Somehow we muster the courage to move on. The trick is no attachments. I know the theory.
No application here. Not today.
In loving memory ~
I found a dead bird in part of the nest on the porch floor when I got home a little while ago. There was another one six inches or so away from it. It was barely moving and I put it back into the nest. There is another dead bird in that nest. I suspect the missing fourth one was eaten.
Mama bird just returned to what is left of her family. Before her return, I removed the nesting materials and buried one baby bird near my dogs ashes in the woods. Upon laying the bird to rest, I gasped uncontrollably. Here I was again burying another beloved animal. This is not getting easier.
Nature takes its course. I just wish it wouldn't do the deed three feet from my front door. It has been three weeks since I could use the porch and that was just fine. I expected the birds to depart sometime next week - fourteen days after hatching which seems to be when they fledge. Or longer if they needed more time.
It is somber on the mountain today. Clouds have covered a once blue sky. Thunder rolls in setting off my National Service Radio. It has been a hard day, a hard few days if truth be told. Somehow we muster the courage to move on. The trick is no attachments. I know the theory.
No application here. Not today.
In loving memory ~
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
Full Moon
Full moons are revelations. Are you feeling a reawakening? A healing?
Interestingly, right after the Moon becomes Full at 12 Sagittarius, it will move on to discharge the energy of 13 Sagittarius and the symbol of "a widow's past is brought to light." Is the "mature woman reawakened to romance" of the New Moon a widow? If there is something inside of us that we have "widowed" - perhaps something that we haven't been able to leave behind or forgive ourselves for - the energetics seek to heal it, to bring it to light. If it is holding us back from turning to a better, happier way of life, it seeks removal. This is the nature of Full Moon phases.
http://www.oraclereport.com
This is a time for trusting our intuition. A new friend and I have been trying to lunch for over four months. The universe saw to it that today was the day.
Most of you have been following my Carolina wren story. When the mama disappeared for many hours early this morning, I worried. Just as I told her she needed to get her butt back to the nest she flew by.
The energetic that was in place at the New Moon (in Taurus on May 18) and is discharging all month long is that of "a mature woman reawakened to romance." Things are being brought to life within us and within the world. This moves the bridge into the Second Renaissance forward and it brings everything into further alignment with the value of life and the value of the experience of life. It is a return to sanity and equilibrium. The old world of dominance and systems based on power and control are dissolving and a world of brilliance is dawning.
The Full Moon adds another element to the lunar month's mixture. So in addition to the continued dissemination of the energetic of reawakening, we now have the energy of the 12:20 pm ET/ 4:20 pm UT Full Moon at 11' Sagittarius 49" or 12 Sagittarius and the Sabian symbol of "a flag that turns into an eagle that crows."
Interestingly, right after the Moon becomes Full at 12 Sagittarius, it will move on to discharge the energy of 13 Sagittarius and the symbol of "a widow's past is brought to light." Is the "mature woman reawakened to romance" of the New Moon a widow? If there is something inside of us that we have "widowed" - perhaps something that we haven't been able to leave behind or forgive ourselves for - the energetics seek to heal it, to bring it to light. If it is holding us back from turning to a better, happier way of life, it seeks removal. This is the nature of Full Moon phases.http://www.oraclereport.com
This is a time for trusting our intuition. A new friend and I have been trying to lunch for over four months. The universe saw to it that today was the day.
Most of you have been following my Carolina wren story. When the mama disappeared for many hours early this morning, I worried. Just as I told her she needed to get her butt back to the nest she flew by.
Monday, June 1, 2015
Dogs and Fledglings
It has been an ominous day. A dark sky, a light sky. Sunshine. Rain. Just after dinner I enjoy a walk up my road. It is a place I have walked since I moved here. For years, I was the only one making a path where loggers used to work. A neighbor moved in and had his crew weed wack it. It is wider and much nicer, too. That is the same neighbor who destroyed some twenty of my trees. I don't much like him. It didn't take the destruction to get to that point. He just isn't my cup of tea.
As I walked along the path, my thoughts turned to memories. My two cocker spaniels and I used to walk this area for years. Before the saws, trucks hauling wood, and my new Miami neighbors, the dogs were unleashed. Free to run up and down the hills. Sometimes they would go on tour and it would be twenty minutes until they returned. Chasing squirrels no doubt. They always came back to the house. I was always worried they wouldn't.
It isn't the same walking up the hill anymore. I struggle to even do it. It isn't so much that it is lonely for it is not. It is just different. My heart is filled with appreciation for all the years I had my little buddies.
Today's walk was different. It appeared the rain had stopped completely so I waited a while to walk. As I arrived at my favorite spot along the path, the area where the fox birthed three kits some years back, the skies opened up. I couldn't get back to the house fast enough. And, I couldn't go up the front porch for shelter from the downpour. A Carolina wren and her four babies are in a nest there. She has made it clear it is a verboten area. I am a good listener. In a week, she and her soon-to-be fledglings will have left. The porch will be washed down because of the pollen. It is a weekly duty usually reserved for post yoga Mondays. I won't be doing it today. I want her to feel peace.
On my walk, as brief as it was, I thanked my parents. I thanked them for buying the house they chose in Woodlawn, a suburb in Baltimore. Our home backed up to the woods. It was in the woods that I became who I am today. I loved it under the canopy. From early morning to lunch and back outside until dinner. For many years, I have tried to get back there. To the house where I grew up, which isn't so safe anymore. But I tried to find my woods in every place I owned a house. As far from a city as I could get. And now, I live in a forest. The animals are an integral part of my daily life and I wouldn't have it any other way.
The darkness will envelope the dome soon. For now, the clouds bang together. Vibrations fill my house on a cliff. I am so lucky. The best part of this is that I know it!
As I walked along the path, my thoughts turned to memories. My two cocker spaniels and I used to walk this area for years. Before the saws, trucks hauling wood, and my new Miami neighbors, the dogs were unleashed. Free to run up and down the hills. Sometimes they would go on tour and it would be twenty minutes until they returned. Chasing squirrels no doubt. They always came back to the house. I was always worried they wouldn't.
It isn't the same walking up the hill anymore. I struggle to even do it. It isn't so much that it is lonely for it is not. It is just different. My heart is filled with appreciation for all the years I had my little buddies.
Today's walk was different. It appeared the rain had stopped completely so I waited a while to walk. As I arrived at my favorite spot along the path, the area where the fox birthed three kits some years back, the skies opened up. I couldn't get back to the house fast enough. And, I couldn't go up the front porch for shelter from the downpour. A Carolina wren and her four babies are in a nest there. She has made it clear it is a verboten area. I am a good listener. In a week, she and her soon-to-be fledglings will have left. The porch will be washed down because of the pollen. It is a weekly duty usually reserved for post yoga Mondays. I won't be doing it today. I want her to feel peace.
On my walk, as brief as it was, I thanked my parents. I thanked them for buying the house they chose in Woodlawn, a suburb in Baltimore. Our home backed up to the woods. It was in the woods that I became who I am today. I loved it under the canopy. From early morning to lunch and back outside until dinner. For many years, I have tried to get back there. To the house where I grew up, which isn't so safe anymore. But I tried to find my woods in every place I owned a house. As far from a city as I could get. And now, I live in a forest. The animals are an integral part of my daily life and I wouldn't have it any other way.
The darkness will envelope the dome soon. For now, the clouds bang together. Vibrations fill my house on a cliff. I am so lucky. The best part of this is that I know it!
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