bandits

I got home from Trader Joe's with the girls one day last week to find the house had been burgled. I was alone with them that day so I kept my cool. I explained to them both what had happened, told them everything was okay, and managed to squelch my emotions (rage and sadness) until later. We were't supposed to touch anything until the police got there so after a couple of hours of waiting around, our dear babysitter came in on her day off to take the girls swimming. After going through the whole upside down mess with the police officer and then the forensics specialist, I shut the door behind the very kind gentlemen and, with the girls still out, I ran to my healing space/studio for an emergency breathing and meditation session. Within a couple of minutes I was feeling all that suppressed emotion bubbling up fast. In no time I was screaming, crying and finally laughing. I had to admit that I have been a victim before. I have certainly played the part a few times. The innocent victim. And on some levels I was. On some levels it was a random act. But I believe strongly, now more than ever, that life gives you what you ask for and somehow I'd been asking for this. I realized how lucky I was. I immediately saw the incident as a lesson. I need to take more responsibility for my property, my life, my money, the list goes on... I felt overwhelmed with gratitude that I had my loved ones and everyone was safe. I felt the clarity of 'nothing else matters.' They could have taken everything and it would have been fine. Who needs all that crap? I was brought face to face with said crap later on as I put it all back. Almost everything had been dumped on the floor. And I still felt grateful. For the opportunity to go through it all. To see what we have: A lot of stuff we don't really need. But more than that we have each other and I cared little for the things I was putting back into place.

I went to bed that night feeling really proud. Proud to have turned a negative experience around almost immediately. Proud for not getting my children sucked into a drama they didn't need. Proud that I actually felt lucky on the same day that I was robbed. I didn't even feel robbed. I felt like they took something of little value (my computer) and gave me something invaluable. Faith.

The Garden

I came back from Vermont to find my garden tall and flourishing. I couldn't believe it. We just got back from seven weeks away and I had planted seeds and seedlings right before we left with the hope, but no conviction, that everything would survive in my absence. I know that gardens need a lot of love and attention to do well and there I was, a novice gardener leaving my babies for most of the summer. I put in an automatic drip watering system, knowing I would be a fool to rely on subleters or neighbors to keep up with the watering. But I was not expecting much more than survival. What I saw when I rounded the corner of my studio to the garden behind it astounded me. Beds thick with tall green plants! The corn I planted from kernels was three feet tall and the tomatoes I put in a week before leaving had outgrown their wire supports and were spread out all over everything. The pumpkin plants were crawling over and out of the beds and through the fence, and there were other squashes and beans growing in and around them. In biodynamic farming they talk about creating mini-ecosystems by planting different compatible plants close together. I felt as though I was staring at that theory. Everything was growing on top of everything else and it all looked very happy. I tasted a few purple string beans and was not disappointed. They had more flavor than any bean I've ever tasted. And the little tomatoes packed a sweet juicy punch. Mother nature delivered, and I am thrilled and grateful that my garden did well in my absence. It gives me tremendous confidence in myself as a student of the earth.

The In Breath

The in breath

And the out

Pulling in

And pushing away

Arriving

And leaving again

Getting here is running in to water

Cold shock of wet face hands and feet

Breath stuck up in the lungs

Then a releasing, the thrill of rejuvenation

and the peace of the open sky

Just floating

And then the slow swim back to shore

The family there on the dock, getting larger

Anticipating the onslaught of attention

Breaking through my watery skin

Arriving into this place we call Vermont

Is a long and slow process

Opening to its paces

Its people

And who we become here

In our bags we bring bathing suits

And boots with last years mud

We bring high expectations

And shift ourselves to the new patterns

The play of the weather

and the way the day unfolds around it

On and off go the rain jackets

Somewhere in the middle is a pause

The breath neither in nor out

It feels like we live here, have always and will always

Live in tune with the endless hymn

That the trees, the water and the wind sing together

The sky is full of rushing clouds

But we are standing still

On the empty road, the open field

The lake, still as glass

Leaving is just as gradual but plays more abrupt

We avoid the calendar and refuse counting days

Until they are so few that our blinders stop working

Just two full days left

And by then the sadness is undeniable

And parts of us are all ready gone

Already traveling across the wide country we call our own

Landing in the dry desert city

we call our home

But until then we savor every rain drop

Every whistling breeze

Wishing we could take one last walk

Through waist high grass

The dark pine forest inviting, dripping

And the last cries of the loon

The good bye that knows us

And misses us

Now I take all this home

Pack it carefully in my heart

To carry with me wherever I walk

And unpack neatly folded words

wild dream

This is in reference to the eczema on my hands that has plagued me for more than a year and a half. (see "Tree Bark Hands") The dream was long and drawn out and had something to do with being at the center that my teacher works out of. I wasn't really there to see him but was only dropping things off. Then scorpions started coming out of my hands. They were emerging through my skin as tiny larvae or worms poking through my skin but as they passed through they grew into full size scorpions. It was painful and disgusting. I was squeamish and trying to knock them into a sink as they came out. I was being successful at knocking them off but it took everything I had to keep up with them. There were so many and they kept coming. Just as I was thinking, will this ever stop? it did. As it was happening I had this sense of it being very important and significant. I kept thinking, Scorpions coming out of my hands, this must mean something! It was so intense and I was sure it was the end of something. It felt like a final exodus of some inner demons. They weren't interested in attacking me as they came out and I didn't get stung. They seemed only to want to escape.
My hands have been healed ever since.

rainbow

Vermont greeted us with a rainbow. Look look look! I squealed in the small field that sits behind the pizza place that is the only gathering spot in town besides the church. I was talking to Grace, a lover of rainbows who draws them constantly but has seen very few. In fact I have seen very few to match this one. It was complete and perfect. Stripes of every color, bigger than the tiny town, arching over it and the landscape that surrounds it, the landscape that is all trees and grass, the colorful arch says, I AM BEAUTY! In a big rumbling voice. We are all stares. The sun is out and there is misty rain too and clearly it is the perfect combination for the ultimate rainbow. I wonder what people thought before they knew what it was, said Dave. I know what it is, said I. It is GOD! So obviously and clearly that is GOD! It makes you stop and wonder at the beauty of a perfect combination of events which is in fact what this world and all the life on it is! It is like a visual diagram of the perfect meeting of elements and energies that make life! All life! Flowers do the same. Trees do the same. We can find beauty everywhere and in everything and perhaps a good definition of beauty is the perfect meeting of things that create a stunning form. I find it is the spider crawling up the window. In the raindrop on the glass. On the pansies with their rich deep colors and sumptuous shapes. But a rainbow, that perfect, arching over a gorgeous afternoon with the golden light of sun peeking over clouds that are blue with misty gray, THAT is a masterpiece. And though we can find beauty everywhere, we need the masterpieces to knock us off our feet and remind us, hey! You are lucky to be here in this precious moment.

Packing for Vermont

Packing for a long trip is always a challenge. I want to bring everything! But as I go through the piles of clothes for me and my two young daughters, I keep pulling things out and asking, Do I really need this? Does she really need that? Slowly, I am getting it down to the bare essentials. The truth is, we don't really need much. We can be in the same clothes all summer. It's fine to let ourselves get so sick of what we are wearing that we stop really choosing what to put on in the morning and just grab anything that seems fairly clean. And I will be fine with one pad and a few pens. One jacket. In the end it teaches me that I need very little in this life. And the girls pick that up too.

corn up!

My friend and teacher David Elliott gave me and thirty other people a handful of corn seeds that he cultivated on his land in New Mexico. He also gave each of us a dried leaf of tobacco that he had grown. It was an empowering gesture at the closing ceremony of a three day retreat he held over Memorial Day weekend at his place. At the time I felt excited about receiving this gift but also a little daunted by it. I am just learning to garden and wasn't sure I wanted to tackle corn. How would I use the tobacco? He assured us that this corn would grow easily just about anywhere. You can just hold the tobacco in your hand, he said.

He does everything with a lot of intention so we all knew that these kernels and leaves were holding plenty of love and promise. We talked about gardening a lot that weekend, and about seeds too. It is more than just a metaphor for life, it is life. Since I got back the garden has become a more meaningful place for me to spend my time and energy. I love being out there with my kids, watering, working my compost piles, carefully tending our babies and of course digging in the dirt. I see it as an extension of myself, just the way I see my art and my family as extensions of me. They are part of me, the fruit of my creativity and nurturing and attention but also apart from me with lives of their own. The more I can see it that way in my garden and in my studio and in my house, the more balanced I feel and everything flourishes. It is easy to fall into the traps of believing that my art or my writing is all my creation or that the kids have learned everything from us. But in the garden it is clear that the plants live independently of me. I am their keeper but not their creator. I put the seeds in the ground but the seeds came from somewhere else. And some will thrive and others will not. I have to keep moving them around, trying different things to see what works best under what circumstances. This is very similar to making art. I don't create ideas from scratch, they come from other ideas. And when I write the words (when I'm really cooking) just come through me. I am their keeper. Even the kids. I have to experiment to see what works with them too. I can't fool myself into thinking I am the one responsible for the tantrum or the smile. I am just a custodian of this beautiful soul that I have the awesome responsibility of raising.

I've been holding the tobacco in my hands and it is powerful. I can feel the force of this plant through my skin. I use it to set intentions or to center myself. And the corn is coming up now, beautifully. I planted 12 kernels and there are twelve strong little shoots poking up out of the dirt. I feel so lucky to have them in my garden.