Intuition as Initiation

As I sat at a kind of nerve-wrenching appointment bright and early this morning, I opened my trusty, coffee-stained copy of Women Who Run With the Wolves by Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes. My eyes landed on this passage: "...having a lover and friends who look at you as a true living breathing entity, one that is human but made of very fine and moist magical things as well...a lover and friends who support the criatura in you...these are the people you are looking for. They will be the friends of your soul for life. Mindful choosing of friends and lovers, not to mention teachers, is critical to remaining conscious, remaining intuitive, remaining in charge of the fiery light that sees and knows." from Chapter 3 'Nosing Out the Facts: The Retrieval of Intuition as Initiation'.

And I am so happy to report that this was a reminder as I feel so loved and supported by so many far and near. Yes, all of you, I carry the light of so many, it helps to guide my way. Thank you...

Hahahahaha....

I love that my last post was in April as I was finishing my semester and starting to pack. I held the intention of blogging about our moving process. Well, we moved! The process continues and considering that I moved with five to six children as my helpers, it was quite smooth. The new place we call the "Poolhouse" because, yes, it has a pool! We have spent hours in that pool since moving and it is the single biggest reason why we have had such a great summer. Thank you cool and calming pool waters. I am eternally grateful.

It has been a beautiful amazing day already. Even though I just lost a long and way more in depth update of my life including an amazing Dr. E quote, I now must just accept that I needed to write it out and let it all go. I did not need a record becuase I made a silly mistake that lost my post before I published.

So it begins...again

I am resurrecting my blog for a couple of reasons. The main one is that my children and I are moving into a much smaller space and I want to have a record of the process. I am on the cusp of finishing my semester and then sifting through all of our stuff and letting go of not only loads of stuff, but the very house that has held it for the past six years. We are leaving the house where my children spent their early childhood years. This is NOT a blog about losing weight.

Vaults Within Squared

Intentions set do not always equal intentions met...also the pesky detail of a computer that got all messed up.
That is why I have not written a blog for one bit of my trip.
Oh this trip....so much has happened and now I don't even know where to start and I only have a moment.
I am in Bellingham, WA right now. It is cool and grey today, but we still went swimming in Lake Padden. I made chicken soup with the bones that I have carried in my cooler and frozen in friends' freezers along the way. It feels very cozy here. The leaves are starting to change and I am beginning to feel the pull of fall myself.
I am hoping for a smooth re-entry into Cali life.
Hopefully more soon....

In between...

I am sitting at my friend's apartment letting Talia nap and Sylvan watch a movie. We were most certainly in need of an in-breath.

We made it to Fargo! We arrived here on Wednesday afternoon (June 17) surrounded by thunderstorms. The ground was soaked and water was standing in the fields and filling the ditches from the storms that we followed.
When we were driving through South Dakota we ran into a heavy thunderstorm right after visiting Mt. Rushmore. We drove through it and passed it by. About an hour later we stopped at Wall Drug in Wall, SD. The kids ran around the outdoor area while I snapped photos. It wasn't long before the same thunderstorm passed over where we were playing and sent all the other tourists running inside. The sharp crack of thunder directly over our heads nearly popped Sylvan and Talia's eyes out of their heads. But it was the lightning that sent us for cover. The electricity of the storm refilled Sylvan's energy (not that it was really lacking) and he started running in circles. After a quick bite to eat we piled back into the car and kept driving and driving and driving....

When we rolled into Fargo we headed straight to a playground to meet up with my friend whose apartment we are at right now. She gave me the keys to her place so we had a crash pad in Fargo. We are staying out at my Dad's farm which is about 30 minutes outside of town.

My dad has dial-up. Enough said, right? That is why I have not posted anything. Well, that and the hours we have been keeping. Last night we got back out to my dad's farm at midnight. One of my relatives has an outdoor, blow-up movie screen and he showed a movie on his front lawn last night. It does not get fully dark here until 10:30p.m. I love it. The prairie sunset is one of the things I miss the most. The twilight seems to stretch forever.

Before the movie last night my step-family and the GST trio (which is my new name for Georgia, Sylvan and Talia) went out to eat. My step-brother Greg has a lovely wife named Sara and a four-year-old son named Quinn. After a shy beginning at the restaurant the kids found themselves wrestling on my movie-showing-relatives front lawn. They also had scooter races and a lot of fun playing with a volleyball after a kind neighbor showed them proper form.

There is so much more that has happened and I just have time to give a short update.
We went to the wedding this afternoon (my cousin's wedding is why we are on this road trip adventure) and are waiting for Talia to wake up from her nap to head to the dinner and dance. I think it is time to go and wake her. More soon with photos I hope.

On the road again

                                                        We are packed and ready to roll.   

Shift Happens

 

                                     I am happy to report that YES shift happens.  As I am preparing for this road trip I am finding myself feeling a new and different thing.

I am going to miss my home and Sacramento in general. 

 I am going to miss my bed, the tall cedar tree that stands guard in front of my house, the cool shade of the persimmon tree, the chickens, MY DOG, my friends, my rhythm, my desk and the projects sitting on top of it, firedancing, and the river. This feeling of missing things like I just mentioned is new for me.   

This is the shift.  

The spell that the road has held me in for so long seems to be fading.  I am curious as to what this summer will bestow upon me and my family.  I am no longer trying to bandage up my cracks, and instead am using ample amounts of forgiveness and grace as a balm.  Digging up from a source previously unknown gobs of sweet and cooling salve that I visualise rubbing all over my cracks.  My parts put back together in a new way that is whole instead of hodgepodge.

Preparation

I am preparing to road trip to Fargo with my children.  They are three and six.  They are champion road trippers. We started talking about this adventure this past winter and they started to collect and return bottles and cans for money.  I told them I would match their funds and help guide them with their road trip fund. 

   

Five months later they have over $150! I will keep my word and match it.  They will be purchasing all of their road treats (usually ice cream or popsicles),  the things they are captivated with in gift shops, and paying for their museum entrance fees.  Below is a picture of Sylvan riding the carousel in Missoula. We spent hours and hours there in the summer of 2007. It was $.50 a ride.  You will find us there again soon.  

I have told them that I want to return to California in August with a portion of their money unspent.  (We are saving for a piano.) Sylvan has come to understand that cheap toys have a tendency to break quickly and, at times, he can get past the instant gratification appeal of wanting something.  

"That is okay mama, it would probably just break anyways," he assures me.

  

I have done this before, and it is not the driving and road trip part that daunts me, it is the preparation. Two years ago when I decided to drive with my kids across the country, I over packed.  That over packing included our beloved Freyja Dog.  This time around Freyja is staying home.  She will be a sad, sad dog on the day we leave.

Whenever we are packing up for an adventure of any kind she plants herself in the back end of the car letting us clearly know she intends on coming with us.  She has been my most loyal and faithful companion for almost a decade.  This is the first, big road trip adventure that I am not bringing her with me.   Freyja has skin allergies and gets ache-y. Not to mention that she too needs love, attention, and tending.   I know that Q will take her on walks and she will have even more love and fun while we are gone.  Freyja please know that I miss you already dear friend.  

                                                      

                                              Do dogs feel betrayal I wonder?

I went to bed last night and lay awake thinking of all the little things I have yet to do.  My sister, Karla, is flying in from Fairbanks on the morning of June 10.  She came up with the brilliant idea of helping me drive to Fargo.  I am grateful she is along for the ride.  She will be a great help and Sylvan and Talia will be able to spend some good time with Auntie Karla who lives so very far away.  We are returning to the place where we both grew up to witness our cousin, Charlie, get married.  There are many other things drawing me back to North Dakota this summer.  Friends and family singing their siren song lulling me back again and again.  So I prepare.

I am sitting at the computer writing this blog while I burn books on CD for the car.

We don't do DVD's in the car and I am unwilling, for now,  to open up that can of worms.  Our wagon is old and does not even have cup holders, much less the pop down DVD screen. Sylvan and Talia make up games involving colors, shapes, and sizes of the other vehicles on the road. Sylvan keeps a running tally of the number of birds of prey that he sees.  We sing, tell jokes, make-up stories, read books, draw, and do math problems.  Talia sleeps.  The road has the potential to soothe us all.  

I have intentions of consistently documenting our trip through this blog.  I also hold the intention of teaching myself Math 34 in the hopes of placing in a higher math class this fall to shave off a semester of school.  

I will be spending the next few days packing and re-packing.  Deciding the essential things we need on the road.  Do we really need to bring rainbow wings, crowns, and swords? What about the bug catcher?  My djembe drums?  Scooters?  How many books and toys? Clothes and shoes for many different climates.  I dislike clutter.  I dislike digging through bags trying to find whatever it is I am looking for in that moment. I intend to not over pack or under pack. That is the balance of preparation I am living in right now.  

The mighty road is my meditation.

The preparation is my challenge.

Heart and Bones

I am focusing all of my positivity on the three basic needs of life right now. I am giving thanks for having a roof over my head, food in my cupboards, and my healthy children.
I am trying to remind myself to keep the faith. That all is as it should be. That there are lows, valleys, and vast and seemingly endless craters maybe, but that nothing lasts forever and this mood of life I am living within, will too find itself changing.

I am in a death process. It is beyond letting the old die. It is learning how to let the dead fall away. I don't want to carry around old, heavy limbs of thoughts and feelings any longer. It is too heavy...too, too heavy. It is making me weak and not letting the new growth come forth. It is stifling, stinky, stagnant, and putrid.
My belief system has been shaken to it's core and now my thoughts no longer have a solid place to land. It is cracking my usual impenetrable demeanor. I just don't know anything about anything. And the truth of the matter is I never did. I just *thought* I did. I am cracking illusions, the tough ones, the ones that I have glued and taped and stapled over and over. Those cracks are all I can see now.

Even though it is a painful process and my rock like personality is crumbling, I have some semblance of knowing that this is for the good of making me whole. It is how and what I need to get into my self, my true self. This feeling of feeling like nothing and being so separate from everyone else is the greatest illusion of all. I anticipate (oh please,please, please....) this winter to be a journey into new places. Braver Georgia places.

Is Jesus in pain?

Notice the cross hanging from the green necklace? This is one of Sylvan's most prized ground scores. He found it around the base of a tree in a park we frequent. He also found the green necklace part which is actually an extremely stretched out elastic hair band. He fashioned them into a necklace.

He wears this out and about and we have gotten some very interesting questions and comments:

What church do you go to?

It's a fine thing to see a young man believing in Jesus Christ.

Jesus died for you and your sins.

Bless you.

Sylvan has come up with his own questions inspired by his necklace:

Why is there a body on this cross? Who is it? Is he in pain?

What is God?

What is church and why do people go there?

Why did Jesus die?

What are sins?

I answer him as honestly as I can from my experience. When I was six I may have known some of the surface answers to the questions he holds. I went to a catholic school. Doctrine was fed to me in a forceful way that left an unknown taste in my mouth. The taste was not necessarily unpleasant. I believe now that it caused and still causes me to seek and yearn for answers that go deeper than just accepting what someone else says is truth.

My early religious experiences shaped me to be a deep questioner of life. I remember standing in line to confess my sins and knowing deep in my child self that I was not a sinner. I can tap into that feeling of my young self. A knowing that there is truth, beauty and goodness in this world. That we, as humans, are not inherently bad. That is what I try to convey to Sylvan when he asks the questions that have so many different replies.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Two weeks deep into Kindergarten... Current mood: pressured While putting Sylvan to bed tonight this is what he told me when I reminded him that tomorrow was a school day: "Kindergarten to me is like when I am sick, I mean throwing up sick.The weekends are like ice cream, parties, bike rides, you, Freyja, Anah-kitty, gecko, cake, cupcakes, rough-and-tumble play with Jackson, candy, Marlin Perkins, just all fun mama. I had so many "highs" today I lost track. I just don't like kindergarten. It's definitely my low all the time." Ahhh poor kid. My response:"This year we are going to kindergarten."It was enough...for now. He finally settled in and flew off to magic dreamland. Currently reading : Women Who Run with the Wolves By Clarissa Pinkola Estes Release date: By 1996-11-27 7:58 PM - 4 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove -

	Jenell	Sylvan is such a poet, ah, pulls at my heartstrings... I wish that I could express myself so well. Hugs~ Posted by Jenell on Sep 15, 2008 2:07 PM [Remove] [Reply to this]

	bonny	Must get it all from his mama. Still trying to get that book. Working on the nightmare book. Right now reading Barack. Ohio Suck...more to blog about that. Love Posted by bonny on Sep 15, 2008 6:01 PM [Remove] [Reply to this]

	Scott	You should remind Sylvan that school is more enjoyable if you can find a smaller kid to bully. A little extra milk money puts a smile on your face ;) Posted by Scott on Sep 17, 2008 5:49 AM [Remove] [Reply to this]

Georgia

I think he has that younger kid thing figured out...he gravitates towards the girls though. He had a gaggle of younger girls who followed him everywhere last year. But this year we are at a big public school that we have to drive to and there are many more kids in his class than his sweet and gentle home-based preschool that we rode our bikes to three days a week last school year. Posted by Georgia on Sep 17, 2008 8:54 AM

Sunday, June 15, 2008

Sunday, June 15, 2008

Connection Current mood: blessed My son Sylvan will be six in September. Some of his sayings are: *You are NOT in charge of my body! (Like tonight before bed when he wanted to put a tatoo on his arm and I said no because I didn't feel like being the referee that would have been needed to negotiate which tatoo he was having and which one Talia was having. *I do not like you teaching me about things. (This comes up when I give him a plain definition of something, try to over-explain a process, or whenever I just get too heady. He craves stories, puppet shows, and movement. *He uses ALWAYS and NEVER repeatedly all thru the day. (Such as--Why is my life soooo hard? Talia never gets hurt and I always fall down.) Which is absolutely not true. In fact one day to prove my point I asked Sylvan to keep track of how many times he cried in a day and how many times she cried in that same day. When we counted up each side Sylvan had cried four times and Talia seventeen. He just said, "Oh," in a deflated sort of voice. There is no one in this world who can make me feel like my dear son. He can flip my anger into sweetness or calm into rage with the flick of his voice. He picks me a bouquet of flowers and fresh berries everyday. He begs me to try a garden tomato all summer long insisting that this year I will learn to like tomatos, and then falls down laughing when I spit it out. And tonight at bedtime after Talia had already fallen asleep he took my hand in his and told me with his utmost serious voice, "Mama, let's hold hands to remind ourselves that we will always be connected. And even when you are in the airplane flying to Alaska we will still be connected with a tiny string that is infinity long from my heart to yours." Those edges around my heart that have a tendency of hardening just by being a human in our world melted right away, and I told him so. He asked if my heart was like a pile of snow and he was like a match. "More like a torch," I said. And he giggled and asked me to tickle him with my voice. I will confess that this was a lovely ending to a contrived day and reinforced my faith that all is as it should be. Love and light... Currently listening : Mermaid Avenue Vol. II By Billy Bragg & Wilco Release date: By 2000-05-30 8:41 PM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove -

	bonny	G- What a wonderful approach to teaching behavioral insight to your children. We are starting up our smoking cessation clinic on that same approach. Insight into one's own behaviors. Too bad I am the rogue pharmacist who believes that intuitiveness of one's own behavior can have a greater effect on well-being and understanding than the pill fix. He seems to have his Momma's gift for knowledge and insight at such a young age. You are truly an inspiration to mothers (and friends). Love you! Posted by bonny on Jun 19, 2008 8:52 AM [Remove] [Reply to this]

Scott

That's just like you, too heady ;) Posted by Scott on Jul 31, 2008 5:58 AM

Monday, March 17, 2008

Monday, March 17, 2008

Where did I learn my English? Current mood: head-achey with lots to do Oh yeah, it was Cass Valley North. My high school was so breezy academically speaking that it makes my head spin now that I have the task of raising my own children and choosing their paths of education. I now understand why my parents pulled me out of my rural class "B" bubble of a school and sent me to one they felt would challenge me more intellectually. Ahhh gasp...private parochial school when I was 15?? I had my license and a car, a choice of three different places to sleep each night, and access to a manipulative part of myself that was mainly concerned with asserting my own independence. Two things stick out in my memory from this one year I attended Shanley in Fargo. First, many Catholic students are gleeful rule-breakers. Second, I learned that any kind of organised religion would not be fitting into my beliefs. Ahhh, but I really don’t have the time to go into that right at this moment and am writing this blog for Ames. Her e-mail and then my re-reading of the update I wrote today (Georgia is going to go....) reminded me of the evil trick we played on our hearing impaired English teacher at CVN. We only had 18 people in our class and most of the roles were well defined. So the usual trouble-makers would wait for the right moment to set the clock ahead at least 10 minutes or more. Then when it would be time for the bell to usually ring someone would shout "BELL" and we would all get up and head out the door. Oh, what adventures we could have with ten extra minutes of free time between classes. It took a surprisingly long time for our English teacher to realise we were taking advantage of her. May you all recall one funny high school memory today as well. gk Currently listening : Beat That My Heart Skipped By Dan & Scroobius Pip Le Sac Release date: By 17 September, 2007 9:22 AM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove -

	bonny	On the organized religion and education: I think you are 100% correct. I believe religion instills the fear in children to do what is right, not the REASONING behind what is good and wrong. Instilling fear in a child to do 'good unto others' will not last into their actual 'intellectual development' so to speak. An understanding of WHY WE (They) make the CHOICE to do as they do and to understand the consequences of the here and now, how those consequences will effect not only them but those they interact upon. Not of the 'when you go to the afterlife'... Raising a child in these times is a monumental feat. I applaud you and know that your children will be considerate and conscientious. Traits in my mind that no religion can define or provide. As for my thoughts on schooling. I was so lucky to be 'stuck' in an experimental "pod" school. All kids were pretty much grouped together and those were gifted were expected to help those that needed help. We were in advanced classes, but also had group classes where everyone worked together and even as a young child I had a basic understanding of a 'oneness'. It was a remarkable experience now that I look back. Posted by bonny on Mar 30, 2008 10:09 PM [Remove] [Reply to this]

Amy

oh gk...this makes me chuckle! what could we have become had we had those extra minutes of english! i imagine i would be a nuclear physicist (sp?)...lmao! now i know why all the guys in our class had time to get bj's in the bathroom next to the english room! Posted by Amy on May 15, 2008 6:38 AM

Monday, March 03, 2008

Monday, March 03, 2008

Not trying to knock the boys... Current mood: energetic as I love them. It is deeply interesting to me to watch my son AND daughter unfold in this time and space. Before I had kids I told myself that I would raise my children with a gender neutral attitude. I have heard that once you give birth in a hospital they wrap your babe up in either a pink or blue blanket. Whether this is true or not it is just one of the many places where a still-steaming babe may encounter his or her first brush with gender conditioning. I will say that now that I am guiding a boy and a girl through this world, I can CLEARLY see that indeed there is a difference between boys and girls. I caught glimpses while teaching, but not as in your face as the ones I now encounter on a daily basis. When Sylvan was a year old he wanted to climb and jump off of anything possible. I would stack pillows around the coffee table and he would endlessly climb up and jump off full of delight. Talia as a one year old was perfectly content lying on her belly perfecting her pincer grab and putting everything in her mouth. I don't think it is strictly a gender thing, there is a whole lot of nurture thrown in there too. But, I now believe that YES there is a difference between boys and girls. How that manifests in each child and ultimately each person is something that we can not really know for sure. We can ponder and theorise, but to no end. And that is okay with me. Something funny that went along with the drinking of pee is that Talia was offered a taste of big brothers pee, also through the straw, and according to Sylvan she gleefully accepted. g Currently listening : Karma By Delerium Release date: By 22 April, 1997 6:39 AM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove -

	Trina M.	It is so true. We try our best to be very gender neutral but while Coulter is 'Mr. Distructo', Delia loves to hang out and lap sit. And even though we have dolls and truck for both kids, Delia seems much more inclined to play with the dolls and Coulter with the trucks. I find it really interesting. Trina Posted by Trina M. on Mar 4, 2008 7:50 AM [Remove] [Reply to this]

bonny

As you know, I have no children. But I feel that I was raised gender neutral. While my "grandma honey" always wanted a girl (out of 6 boys until she was 48-so yes there is still hope if I so dream), I was raised by my Uncle Rudy. I remember running head first into pillow cushions of my grandma's couch like a line backer, and running 'amok' around the block, actually punching a little boy right smack in the face for knocking me off my hot wheels. I didn't know the difference, yet I still loved to wear my stupid 'Big Burt' dress for easter, and cook (as I still do now). It is truly amazing. I am the only woman among a group of men now and pharmacy is supposed to be a 'woman's' occupation in this day and age, but I feel that I can stand up to them. But on that same note, I also feel as if I have to out perform them. And I do. But I realize WHY I do. That is the question. How can we raise our girls to be women that are confident enough to feel that they don't have to 'out-perform'. G, look at me, you know the last thing I want to do is be a "Dr." but why do I do it? To have that added edge. What do I want to do? Cook, make house, nurture. It is such a double-edge sword. Our goal is to instill in our daughters that they are complete as they are. I will shut up now, Sorry I know I don't have children and can't even imagine how you all do it. B Posted by bonny on Mar 31, 2008 12:50 AM