Twelve years ago this month I stepped away from an unhappy marriage and never looked back. Yeah, yeah, do the math … okay there was some overlap. Whatever. I’m over it. The Lightning of True Love struck a bit before I was safely able to extricate myself from the situation I was in. It happens. […]
I’ve been doing a lot of thinking – again – about how science and materiality have utterly trumped mystery. Well, it’s a sore spot and no mistake. I’ve been reading a book by David Abram called Becoming Animal, and he devoted quite a bit of ink to this idea as well. (I’m hugely enjoying Abram’s
Desperate times call for … a mother who can invent. We’ve been in a drought for a while, and it’s getting pretty … grim. Seemed the only way we could get any rain at all when there was any in the area was for me to go outside and hurl insults up at the sky,
I live in a world that grooves, gyrates, syncopates, and funks to the rhythm in my bones. A couple decades ago, during a time of ridiculous stress, I developed a heart arrhythmia that gave me a spot of bother. The heart specialist showed me the EKG readout, pointing out that one of my ventricles was
Some of us have reached the age where our heroes are disappearing off the face of the Earth. We have to figure out how to navigate a world without Tina Turner, Gordon Lightfoot, Cormac McCarthy, Harry Belafonte … so many are gone. It’s part of growing up, like being kicked out of yet another nest.
I am a night-lover, a moon-chaser, a star-gazer, an aurora-guzzler … Yep, I am one spacey cadet. And I do not get out under a naked sky on a lunedark night nearly often enough. Lunedark? Is that not a word? I beg to differ. My friend Sam Knutson recently recommended a book to me called
The land has stories to tell for those who are willing to listen. It’s not a quick and easy process. You have to learn to hear them, and earn their trust. But through the Shamanic work I am doing, I am learning to use my ears in another new way, and the Land Spirits are
I did something recently that scared the shit out of me, but ended up really, really good anyway. I don’t need to elaborate, much anyway, because really, it’s kind of a universal idea. I knew I needed to do a thing, figured out a way to make it happen, sewed an extra pocket into the
I suspect that I am not alone in feeling this. It’s Spring in the Northern Hemisphere, and thank Goddess it’s green again, and the days have been just lovely and the birds, as few as there are these days, are out and about and building the nests and making the babies … and it seems
I try not to whine about my personal shit – unless I can use it as fodder for a post. I’ve been sick as the proverbial dog since the end of February. Not with the ‘rona, or any other virus that’s currently stalking the land. No. I have been sick as a dog because of
