Monthly Archive

Holiday lights have always been a big thing with my family. Over the years the neighbors came to expect them and, in fact we seemed to inspire a few with our efforts. We tend to stick with lights and few plug in things, though with kids I did manage to acquire some plastic over the years. These things hold a sentimental place in our hearts though we are down to two. Once again it seems we have managed to put things off due to illness this year and now we will be hanging lights in the cold and snow. That also seems to be a tradition. Our first big snowstorm is headed our way and the newest addition to our decor has not been put into the lawn as yet. It has a stake that needs to be pounded in and given the cold we have been experiencing, this could be a challenge at best. There is something magical about the lights and I would have to admit I still like driving around to see them as I did when I was a little girl.

We also have two trees now, as over the years we collected many ornaments. Some of the ones we have are from when I was first married and we had no money. They are painfully ugly and hold no sentiment for the marriage long since over, but still they seem to stay with us year after year. Some that we have added are very beautiful and some are from my parents. We managed to rescue them from my fathers clutches when I was caring for him. He was never known for the care he took with such things and most were lost over the years. My mother would have been horrified to find them packed on on top of another many in bits.

To this day I can remember my favorite ornament, a silver ball with frosted details around it. It had an indentation like many of the old ornaments and there was a swan pictured there. It fell victim early on to a hasty packing job. As in many things remembered from childhood, perhaps it would not be as beautiful now. Still each year, I look to see if I can find something like it. There are many memories held in such small pieces of glass, good memories of my childhood. My brother looks at those ornaments as well and he remembers those days long since gone. I think I will have him over for dinner and a tree trim. Perhaps we can break out the old slides, (slides I just dated myself) and have some fun.

Today I was looking for some music from a movie I watched. It was a haunting movie, about someone who dreamt of another life. As I looked over the track titles there was the one called, “The Girl With Two Souls.”

As I sat starting at the title, I felt powerful emotions washing over me, a knowing once sitting deep inside, now captured some words on a page. The girl with two souls, living between two lives, the one she has at her side and the one she feels from the shadows. Neither life is less, both are part of her, yet one calls so strongly, like a call of wild things in the night. It weaves an enchantment around her heart and fills her spirit and soul with something she can find in nothing else.

The journey of her life is a shadow dance, moving in and out of the shadows of her realities, unable to explain what she finds there, but knowing beyond any doubt that it is real. Tonight I will walk in the shadows, calling to me the things that nourish me. Tomorrow as the sun rises I will watch the shadows move on the wall fading as the light fills the room, knowing they will always be there, waiting for me, my shadow dance.

It is not in my nature to post political things, not because I don’t have very strong opinions, I do. It’s just that I’m not very well versed in this area. That being said, here is a post well worth reading. It might open some eyes that still choose to be closed. It amazes me that people continue to turn a blind eye to what is happening, and how close we are to losing what freedoms we have not lost already.

Once again I find myself bestowed with more lovely awards, thanks to Sorrow.

There are times I’m not sure what I am doing to deserve these accolades from friends as I seem to have been milling around in a state of confusion for the past couple of months, not knowing where I was going or grumbling about where I find myself. As I said in my previous post I’m trying to learn to express myself in a true light without returning to the post to soften the edges or delete it entirely. I opened another blog in a move I thought would “set me free.” It has not and though it is lovely looking, I find myself writing in pretty much the same way.

Perhaps this is what I’m supposed to do for now and perhaps those things that sit deep inside me are best left to the pages of a private journal. Still while I grumble and mumble and sort myself out, it’s good to know I have a community of like minded souls who hear me. I also have an array of beautiful, artistic, funny and spiritual blogs to get me through the day and inspire me to become better at this whole writing thing.

Now to pass these along, something I’m terribly remiss at doing. There are so many to choose from.

Mermaid whose blogs are beautiful and soulful and a friend who listens to my insane babblings.

Danielle whose Modern Musings keep us informed and thinking about what needs to be done in this world.

Grace whose blog keeps me inspired.

Missharleyquinn a visitor from the early times going forward, one who understand the ramblings of my heart.

These are just a few of the deserving candidates I can name tonight. Take a look at some of those on my blogroll. It’s a great way to discover some wonderful sites.

I’ve had a quiet few days and have not been able to blog very much. Our household has been flattened by the latest bug and I’m still struggling. Sometimes it takes all the creativity out of a person when you feel like this.

Thanksgiving was quiet and uneventful, something that I appreciated given my run down state. The food was wonderful and all went well. As is usual with us over the holidays, we had some activity in our home on Thanksgiving day. I was upstairs and the dog started barking as if someone had come to visit. When I went downstairs she was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking straight ahead, her tail wagging. She stood there for some time, clearly “seeing” someone she knew. Pets are very perceptive and often they pick up things before we do.

This afternoon I was reading a post by a friend who spoke of writing and ranting. She has reached a level with her writing, one I envy. I still struggle with letting go when I write, stopping to soften edges, often deleting posts after I look back at them. We are conditioned through our lives, at least I was, starting when we are small, not to speak our minds. My conditioning carried on for years and now it’s a tough thing to unlearn. Until we learn to speak, the total creativity inside us is held back behind this invisible wall. So I will continue to work on it, but I wonder if I will ever change or if this is who I am and who I will remain after all these years.

The moon has been glorious the past couple of days and this full moon has been very peaceful but filling me with illuminations. Connections with others have been affirmed in the most surprising of ways and things seem to be coming together, at least for the moment. It’s a welcome moment of light.

I pinched this off a friends blog as I thought it was worth sharing. 

Above you paint the sky
delicate as maidens hair.
Below, pour a little darkness
heated to room temperature
or slightly more.

With a cat’s claw in the dark
scratch out a little tree,
the finest tree in the world,
finer than any forester
could ever imagine.

And the tree itself
will light up,
and the whole picture purr
with green joy
with purple hope.

Right. But now you must
put under the tree
the
real big thing,
the thing you most want in the world;
the thing pop singers
call happiness.

It’s easy enough for a cat,
a cat will put a mouse there,
Colonel Blimp will line up
the largest jet propelled halberd
which shoots and bangs and salutes,
a sparrow will gather
a few stalks for it’s nest,
master junior clerk will submit
a stuffed file tied with red tape,
a butterfly will put there
a new rubber peacock’s eye,
but what will you put there?

You think and think
till the day grows grey
till the river almost runs out
till even the bulbs begin to yawn
you think

and finally

there in the darkness you blot out
a hazy white spot,
a bit like a florin,
a bit like a ship,
a bit like the Moon,
a bit like the beautiful face
of someone (who?) else,

a hazy white spot,
perhaps more like emptiness,
like the negation of something,
like non-pain,
like non-fear,
like non-worry,

a hazy white spot,
and you go to bed
and say to yourself
yes, now I know how to do it,
yes, now I know,
yes,
next time
I shall paint
the most perfect Christmas tree
that ever was.

Miroslav Holub

Thanksgiving has come and gone though the feeling it brings is still with me.  It was peaceful if not a bit understated but really it all worked out fine. It turned out to be just the four of us and it was probably for the best.  I managed to turn out a nice meal but I was knocked out by the return of a cold and not worth much else.  

In the spirit of the day my youngest and I took the dog for a late walk.  Last year it was so nice we walked in cotton attire, an unusual twist for November. This year it was cold and still, the night sky brilliant with the full moon. It was surrounded by a halo of light and it illuminated the trails and walkways.  Shining through the tall bare trees. coupled with the dusting of snow on the ground it made a picture worthy of a card. 

Sometimes it’s hard to find beauty on a gray November day, but once again it was there in the snowflakes that feel softly and in the moon lighting my path as I walked through the trees toward home. 

I’m pretty busy today so I thought I’d just post this picture.

This evening I was rushing around doing my many preparations for Thanksgiving. I was cranky as I moved through each task, conquering things one by one. My daughter has been quite ill with the latest bug and so was no help, and my youngest was determined to aggravate me as much as possible, complete with locking me out of the house in bare feet.

The sweet potatoes were done, the pie baked, the living room rugs steamed and the laundry pretty much caught up. As I stood in the kitchen chopping things for the stuffing, my personal favorite, I looked out on the deck. There were snowflakes falling quietly in the early darkness of winter. With it came a peace that spread over the house, a feeling that everything would be ok. Things started to fall into place after that and I looked out like a child in wonder at the first snow of the season. I realized what precious time I had as I cooked, talking to my son about this and that, sharing some time together in the warmth of the kitchen.

It’s amazing just when I needed it so badly, that the quiet whispers of the snow found me and with each beautiful snowflake carried all that I needed to hear. I think tonight, when the house is quiet, I might pull a chair out onto the deck and wrapped in warm blankets, sit quietly if just for a moment, under this beautiful sky.

Last night I found my oldest son on Facebook. It was an eerie feeling knowing we are once again not communicating and  how much I miss him. My shortcomings as a parent have become his focus and it hurts to much to hear this sort of thing over and over. Still he was my favorite when he was a boy and I miss him terribly. This evening I received this from someone who has experienced some of the same things. I thought I’d post it for all of us. There are no guarantees in this life. Our children are our own for but a moment. They may choose to fly away and never return.

Remember Kahlil Gibran’s words

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let our bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

My son and I have some of the most interesting discussions.  It’s amazing what kids notice when you don’t present it to them first. We were having are usual  afternoon chat when he pointed this out.  His one friend who has no video games and is not allowed to watch anything with violence of any sort, is the nicest friend he has.  Interesting isn’t it? Perhaps all those studies were right.

Don’t get me wrong, I love video games and I’m pretty darn good at some of them. I do not however allow things like Grand Theft Auto into my home and I’m shocked to find little kids playing a game and glorifies violence and killing and devalues women.  As adults we are going to have to become the boss again and learn to say no if we ever want society to turn around from the violent greedy place it has become.  

That’s my little ditty for the day.

Today while sitting with my son going over the days events, there was a knock at the door. It was a neighbor boy, one I don’t know well but have seen across the street. My son went outside and they chatted for a minute and then the boy left.

He was looking for his sister who sits at my son’s table at lunch. She was due home with a friend and never showed up. The mother had no idea where she was and she and her small son were starting to panic.  She had called the police per the son and had not heard a thing. The son came back to our home to get some phone numbers of friends, and through the diligent efforts of this young child, I could sense the state of the mother. It was as if I could feel her fear growing deep within me and the helplessness she was feeling at that very moment.  

Kids forget, we did I know. They don’t think about the angst they cause parents. We did it to our parents I’m sure. Still our world is different now and the dangers that await much more prevalent. I have not heard if she is home again and I can only hope she strayed to a friends house and forgot to call home.  I feel badly as I’m leaving for work soon. It’s dark now and if the girl is not home the mother’s fears will only grow more intense.

It amazed me how quickly my gut started to hurt after that child knocked at my door. It was as if there was a universal energy among us as mothers that made me want to charge out and find this child. When I was a child a village truly did raise a child, it wasn’t just a cool idea.  Everyone looked out for us and everyone watched what we did. If we stepped out of line we answered often to more than just the parent, but we were safe.  We have forgotten how to watch out for one another in this busy world.  It’s time to start remembering.

Last night for the first time in some days sat up into the wee hours. I couldn’t sleep and ended up writing a bit. As I sat writing I started thinking about angels. I’m not sure why. Perhaps it was the music I was listening to, perhaps the mood who knows.

I’ve been fascinated with angels since I was a little girl. They seem to walk on many paths regardless of where you may find your spirituality. Some see them as light, some as forms of energy. I’m sure are many things. For me it works to visualize them in a more classic form. It just works for me. I’m not a religious person, my spirituality coming from the earth around me, but they are a part of things for me. I would have been a terrible student of any divine path as mine is scattered with so many things. I dance to my own drummer and always have. The angels are often guardians for me called to watch over my most important mystical times. They have never failed to be there for me spreading warmth around me.

I think the angels, be they elements, spirits, or part of the energy called in a working, are all around us. Some may see them in visions, some may hear them speak in dreams, or just as a rustle on the wind. Some of them may look just like you and me walking with us through this life in subtle disguise.

I’m not sure why my mind drifted to the angels last night. Perhaps as I sat in the quiet hours of the night they were here with me.

Last night my son and I sat talking about his day.  Yesterday he arrived home with his friend who lives down the hill, who had hopped his bus home. On the bus ride one of the kids pulled out a bebe gun, painted to look like a real gun, pointed it in my son’s face and said “I’m going to shoot you.”  My son stood up, now twice as big as this kid, and told him if he did, he would break the gun over his head. The kid backed down and then went after Peter’s friend who is not big and who is afraid of bullies. He shot him several times with babes, thankfully, and is now suspended from school. The friend is now afraid that the bully’s friends will retaliate.  My son will be the one on that bus today, not the kid who was shot and I can’t help wondering what my son will have to tell me when he arrives home.

Bullies will always be an ongoing problem. They’ve been with us since the beginning of time I suspect. The problem is becoming very serious in a culture that has become increasingly violent.  Not one day goes by in school for my son without an encounter of some sort with these kids.  I have taught my kids early on how you treat other people and how you don’t treat them. I have taught them what is acceptable and what is unacceptable. I have taught them to be compassionate and treat all people equally.  We as parents need to take a good look at the schools and at our children.  We need to take a good look at the entertainment industry and how violent it has become. I thought I’d never hear myself say these words but look at the games these kids play.  What are we teaching them?

Listen to your kids. Talk to them all the time. You might find out some very interesting things.  My son is in the 8th grade. The big word they all use is rape.  That’s something to think about.

Yes, it’s been quite some time since I posted one of these. They seem to be enjoyed, so I looked around to find something appropriate.

The goddess for whom Scandinavia was named dwelled high in the snow-covered mountains; her favorite occupations were skiing and snowshoeing through her domain.

The goddess for whom Scandinavia was named dwelled high in the snow-covered mountains; her favorite occupations were skiing and snowshoeing through her domain. But when the gods caused the death of her father Thjassi, Skadi armed herself and traveled to their home at Asgard, intent on vengeance. Even alone, she was more than a match for the gods, and they were forced to make peace with her.

Skadi demanded two things: that they make her laugh and that she be allowed to choose a mate from among them. The first condition was accomplished by the trickster Loki, who tied his testicles to the beard of a billy goat. It was a contest of screeching, until the rope snapped and Loki landed, screaming with pain, on Skadi’s knee. She laughed.

Next, all the gods lined up, and Skadi’s eyes were masked. She intended to select her mate simply by examining his legs from the knees down. When she’d found the strongest-thinking them the beautiful Balder’s legs-she flung off her mask and found she’d picked the sea god Njord. So she went off to live in the god’s ocean home.

She was miserable there. “I couldn’t sleep a wink,” Skadi said in a famous eddic poem, “on the bed of the sea, for the calling of gulls and mews.” The couple moved to Thrymheim, Skadi’s mountain palace, but the water god was as unhappy there as Skadi had been in the water. Thereupon they agreed on an equitable dissolution, and Skadi took a new mate, more suitable to her lifestyle: Ullr, the god of skis.

*******************************************************************************

A giantess, called the ’snow-shoe goddess’, and the embodiment of winter. She is the wife of the god Njord. When her father Thiazi was slain by the gods, Skadi wanted to take revenge. The gods thought it wiser to reconciliate and offered her a marriage with one of them. She was free to marry any god, but while she made her choice she was only allowed to see the feet of the potential candidates. She noticed a very elegant pair and, convinced that their owner was the fair god Balder, she choose them. Unfortunately for her, those feet belonged to the older god Njord.

The marriage between Njord and Skadi was not a happy one. She wanted to live where her father had lived, in Thrymheim in the mountains, and Njord wanted to live in Noatun, his palace by the sea. So they agreed to spend the first nine days in the mountains and the following nine days by the sea. This arrangement did not work out very well, and they separated. Eventually, Skadi left Njord for the god Ull.

http://www.hranajanto.com/goddessgallery/skadi.html

http://www.pantheon.org/articles/s/skadi.html

Today I’m sitting here trying to get the energy to conquer the house. There is so much I need to do before Thanksgiving next week. I feel like I’ve never caught this place up since I injured my knee last March. Once you get behind it’s like an uphill battle. Summer vacation took on a whole new meaning of mess as well with friends of my son tramping in and out all day long.

The holidays are once again looming in the horizon. I’d like to say I’m happy about that but it becomes a series of dinners I provide along with endless cleaning coupled with waiting on people. I love the music, the lights and the connections that come to me over these times, but the rest I could live without.

This Thanksgiving looks like one person will be joining us, so I’m going through the motions and knocking myself out for he and my son. I suppose I’d do it all glady for my son as he so loves all of this. I did too when I was younger. Now comes the task of squeezing gifts out of a budget that is barely stretching to make ends meet, another stress.

I’ve been staring at the house since 9 am this morning and so far have done nothing. I took a nap and had dreams about voting? go figure. Once long ago I used to love to entertain. Perhaps if I had more people coming it would help, someone to help and party with. It will be my son and brother parked in front of video games or standing watching me wondering when everything will be ready. My other son is not speaking to me once again. He sent me a nastygram in email some months back that was the start of round two. Unfortunately for my son I’ve reached the point in my life where I can’t endure any more abuse, no matter who is dishing it out. It’s tough enough being a single mom as the world vilifies you for everything that goes wrong with kids, but when your own kids tell you what a rotten parent you were it really hurts. I miss him and his partner who I adore. My daughter will be here with me, conveniently laid up with a migraine until the work is done. I wonder what they’d all do if I ran away over the holidays?

Listen to me whine like a little kid. I’m sure it will pass and I will find the bright spot in all of it. Right now I just want to scream. I realize this post is not my usual style and I’m sorry about that. I’m sure I’ll have something nice to post later. Maybe I’ll go for a walk to the lake amd get inspired.

The river of dreams carries me now, the river of my dreams, soothing, beautiful, sensual, filled with both day and night. It carries me along as I sleep, unaware of those who stand watching as I pass by. Do not wake me at least for a while, but let me drift away. The river opens to the sea and there I will dwell in peace and love. It is a dream, but it is my dream and all that I need is waiting as I close my eyes.

Picture courtesy of http://artyfact.blog.co.uk/

I’m on my way out the door to work in just a few minutes.  I wish I wasn’t as the new moon is coming tonight after 1am.  Oh the moon will still be there, no matter where I might find myself, but tonight I felt the need to just sit and commune with her a bit. The moon clearly is such a part of me, something I have affirmed the last few days. The calm and clarity that comes to me during this time is pretty amazing.  I never noticed it in years gone by. I think it pays to really pay attention to the earth and all that is in it and also ourselves and what affects us from day to day.  

My son was sharing a story about a classmate at school. It was a rather sad story though the whole picture is something we cannot know looking in from the outside. Still, I want to stay home and just keep my child close to me tonight, letting him know I would never abandon him. Surely there are days I’ve felt like it, haven’t we all, but I never would. 

There are a lot of stressful things going on in my life right now, but that’s ok. I know eventually it will all work itself out. That’s what this moon does for me. It gives me clarity to know I can keep going and that I’m not alone.  Tonight I was watching the tail end of a movie while munching my snack. As I saw the character standing on the edge of a rocky ledge wondering what to do, the scene looked down over a beautiful forest of trees and I thought “who could leave that?” 

There are tough times in this life, something we all experience.  Then something happens and you take a deep breath and realize the world has so much there.  It calls us to be a part of it.  It’s an unmistakable voice and so I’ve heard it once again.

I’m in a strange place the past few days. I can’t quite get my words going, so here instead is some music.  I wish the video was better but it was all I could find.

Missharleyquinn tagged me on this one. I’m supposed to choose one song that describes me. This is such a difficult task. It depends on the mood I’m in, what I’m doing at that moment, and also who I’m thinking of.

I like almost all kinds of music, rock to harp. When I write I play classical or quiet things. There is nothing like classical music with it’s many emotions to carry you away to other places. When I need to move about the house and get things done, I put on anything from the Stones to rap. Music is a big part of life and I can’t imagine being without it. I suppose if I have to describe myself in one song, I’ll go here. It’s my favorite poem by Tennyson and the song is equally beautiful.

Mermaid, though I know this will be even more difficult for you, you’re it.

Today is a typical November day. The north winds blow, moving the trees in rhythm and pulling at the last of the leaves that hang on to the branches.  We had our first snowflakes today. I’ve lived with snow my whole life and while my fascination with it has dwindled over the years,, there is still something magical about those first sparkles of snow. I remember as a child the excitement at seeing the snowfall and rushing to get outside.  Now I’d rather stay wrapped up and cozy with a cup of tea.  

I’m looking out over my lower deck knowing I need to fill the feeders and put corn out for my many visitors.  They need our care in the coming months and they reward us with their beauty and in some cases just their silly antics.  We are fortunate where we live to have all the wondrous wildlife.  It’s like living country even though we are just outside of the city.  

Today it’s the serenade of the leaf blowers so I’ve had marginal sleep. Still I’m thankful it’s them doing it on this windy day and not me.  As they pile the leaves it’s as if the last of the color disappears from the landscape, leaving behind the grey backdrop of  winter, so quiet yet so magical. It almost whispers of something soon to come. 

Sometimes in winter, when I wake up at night, there is a stillness, a quiet in the air and I know it’s snowing. I don’t really know how to explain it but I’m always right.  It’s like that around me right now,  still and quiet, like I’m waiting for something.  It’s a peaceful quiet, a respite from the busy holiday times that will soon descend upon us.

I’ve cut back a bit on my blog time as I feel a pull to be doing other things as well. There is a strong need to get back to my walks as I gain a great deal of strength from nature. There is also a part of me that wants to write something new, but I don’t yet know where go with that. I’ve thrown myself into blogging with such intensity and I think I’ve neglected myself in other ways.

The confusion that has surrounded me is clearing and I once again hear the voice that comes from within, at least for now.  I’m going to kick back and listen to that voice, and wait for the words that I know will come through me onto the page. 

Last night was one of those nights where I had planned to do some sort of small thing in remembrance of the day.  The space was set up and I struggled trying to decide what it was I should do. I glanced through some old things I had on hand, none of them feeling quite right and then went online to see if I could find something inspiring.

As I paged through different sites, I somehow found myself back on a familiar site, one of someone I knew when I first started out, cracking my first books on Wicca, thinking I’d found the answers to everything.  As I read through the site, old posts from before, it all came rushing back and I was reminded why I had put those books away and continued my journey as I do now, still unsure of where it is I belong.  It talked about many things this site, many of those things labeling what I feel and think as wrong. Yes I refuse to follow one strict path. I don’t call what I feel a religion and I will not be told how to feel, what to feel and what I must do to be worthy of those feelings.  Does that make me undisciplined, maybe. Does it make me too lazy to devote myself to a faith, perhaps.  I knew as I continued to read, that this was not directed specifically at me, but it upset me just the same.  How each of us finds our peace in this world and how we embrace the feelings within, is a very individual thing. 

After a bit, I closed the site and walked away, sorry I had found myself there. I knew with a certainly I’d made the right turn as this particular path had never been a good fit.  I continued on with my quest to get some small celebration off the ground even though I found myself exhausted from the previous events of the evening.  Things were ready and I waited for my son who had wanted to join me.  While in the bath, my dog somehow managed to reach the small plate of food I was to use and ate most of it. My son who was equally tired, sat down as I lit the candles, using my snuffer to make clanging noises on the hurricane covers that enclose my large candles. 

At this point, I looked around the room, wondering why I was there, knowing nothing good could come from the energy I felt. The candles were extinguished and the only journey was to my bedroom. I sat it my bed, confusion washing over me, feeling lost on my journey.  I ate the apple, the one thing the dog didn’t get and watched Poltergeist.  Perhaps, I thought, I would get up in the night and try again, but it was not to be. 

This morning I came downstairs to check the email and found two of my pillar candles still going though I had  snuffed the flames last night.  As I looked at those candles still almost as I had left them hours before, I realised everything I needed had been with me last night despite another celebration gone wrong.

It has been a week of visits, my mothers presence strongly noted, powerful connections with the one who holds my heart, and last night a strong sense of my father filling the room.  The flames of those candles burned last night, fueled I think, by those who walk with me,  lighting the way for a journey that has just begun.