A MUST SEE !

 

I am very blessed to live near a great many farms. Small farms that grow food the same way they always have. I may pay $3.00 for a dozen eggs, but I walk up to the farmer dodging the chickens who are eating grass and bugs and rotten tomatoes. I feel even more fortunate after having watched this movie.

Even if you can’t afford to buy organic, even if you don’t have the money to eat healthy, It is your right to make demands upon our government to effect some changes in the way our food is produced. I read The Jungle by Upton Sinclair in High-school, it pains me to think that in 100 years we have returned to that same horror.

I have to recommend this movie to EVERY ONE!

Please

Rent it,

watch it,

You need to know what you are eating, you need to know what giant corporations are doing to our farmers.

Be informed!

For a preview of the movie go HERE

I can get on a soap box, and this one I am standing on begging you to see this movie…

Tooot! Tooooot!

Warning!

Warning!

One proud momma ahead.

My teen age son, soon to be 17, ( where do the years go???) has been given a once in a lifetime opportunity.

He will be going abroad next year as a student ambassador/foriegn exchange student.

He has worked so hard , and is so incredibly thrilled.

This is such a tremendous thing for him. It opens up so many possibilities and gives him a perspective of the world that he will need to really be a member of our global community.

Can I tell you how proud of him I am?

Can I tell you how many times my eyes teared up as I read glowing letters of recommendation from teachers and people he has helped? I feel close to bursting!

I had to share this with my friends here in the cyber world. Tell you what an incredibly happy momma I am, and that if you don’t see to much of me it’s because I am about to become a mad fund raising crazy!

I am so tickled I could just do a dance!

~laughing~

Slapping my head with words

My clothing smells of smoke,

My hands are a bit chilled, so I hold the mug of tea a bit longer between unraveling thoughts that try and spill out on the page.

The man-child made me a fire back in the deep woods where he was working this day.

I sat there for some time under the stars , watching some of them fall. They are coming out of Orion’s belt tonight. The coyotes were calling, singing to one another. It wasn’t until the herd of deer darted thru the woods near me that I realized they were getting closer.

My pixie girl is dyslexic, and so every night I sit and read to her, with her. Trying to help her, trying not to weep inside as she struggles thru every word on the page.

We are reading ” The little house in the big woods”. We recently came to a passage where the girls, Laura and Mary were worn out from a long day, and feeling a bit cross. Mary said some unkind things to Laura, which Laura reacted to in anger, and smacked her. Of course she was caught in action, so she was punished by her father.

My little one says to me” That’s not fair! Oh I know she should not have hit her, but words hurt more than smacks!” she sits up in her bed and looks at me with wise earnest eyes. ” Smacks go away, you forget them, but words hurt in your heart and you don’t forget them, they stay for a long time. Mary should have been punished too!”

I am as always nonplussed by this child.

With words escaping me, I give her a hug and a kiss and tuck her into bed.

In a discussion with a very wise and loving friend I tell her about the little one and her words. She recommends telling the imp that yes, words can hurt, but they can also heal.

Armed with this kernel of wisdom, at bedtime I share this with her. She looks at me and says ” I suppose so Mommy, but only if the person hears what your heart is saying, and only if they want to be mended.”

~sigh~

The man-child speaks to me of words, of how difficult they are to use, how no one seems to hear what is being said. I tell him with heavy heart I understand this.They hear the words but not the meaning. We speak of those who are so skilled at weaving words into an illusion, into a lie, that the truth, the heart, is not present. All that is there is a deep manipulation , a justification for some gains, that we can not fathom. He asked me tonight, ” Why don’t people listen? Why do they only hear what they want to?”

~sigh~

These children of mine are so ill suited for this world of ours. Only time will tell if I have done them ill by the choices I have made.

Manifest

Yesterday the little one was helping make things to sell at my upcoming shows.

I  let her make things, usually small things, whistles, ornaments, pins.

I want her to be able to have a bit of pin money to spend on herself. It also shows her how much time and effort goes into things, that do not always sell.

So in the quiet of the studio, both of us focused on what we are doing, she asks me

“Mommy , is life bearable?”

I stop and look at her ” Sometimes, and other times no, but you bear it just the same.” I say.

” That stinks.” she says in her wise old women voice ” why can’t it at least be bearable? it doesn’t have to be Wonderful every minute of every day…”

she grumbles.

I laugh, ” you know your right, it should at least be bearable. Guess your going to have to make sure it is.”

I get an eye roll, and then she dashes over to give me a hug.

This morning I headed down to my Labyrinth, cup of coffee in hand. Lost in thoughts.

Thinking about her comment, wondering about my own mental head space these days. I know logically that life is not always smooth and easy.

I don’t know, I finished walking and headed into the woods…

My thoughts went to ” I don’t mind the snakes ( thinking of some of the people I have had to deal with lately), I have had my share of them, and I respect there place in the order of things..” and when I looked up there was a black snake sunning himself on a little bridge that my son made for me.

pause…

” may I cross? “

and off he moved…

I continued walking, what makes life unbearable? is it the pain? the fear? the distrust? why can I not rise above it? soar like an Hawk?

I heard the Hawks cry and watched her come in and land in the tree’s above me.

I felt like bowing,

but just paused.

Wondering what her perspective was from up there.

wondering…

So then I continued on to a spot in the far back where I have a bench, that I sit on and contemplate.

To many days I have been dwelling in what I can not do, what I can not change. I go through this place where I do not trust myself, what I am doing, how I am living, and what my own self worth is.

I can be my own worst enemy. I let fear prey on me.

A red fox jumped out of the briars in front of me and wandered around the rabbit burrow. He did not seem to notice me sitting there watching him no more than 30 feet away. content to sniff and harass his dinner.

One of these days I will remember to take my son’s camera with me to the woods…

sigh

Lesson for today, Life is bearable, and we manifest what we need. To grow, to learn, to remember.

Some times it not about me, or this broken world.

Sometimes it’s just about being present for life,

for life’s sake.

Turning & spinning

Little by little

I stretch myself.

reaching

straining

I am looking at life, and it’s paradoxes. I am not happy with what I see, but I am coming to a place of acceptance.

Acquiescence, the world is broken, I can not fix it. I can only make a place, a temporary space, of peace

joy

laughter

love

light

I am learning that it is always about trust.

Always.

My biggest bag, burden, hurdle.

trust

A month in review

Words.

They so don’t work.

How?

How do I find the words to describe the last month?

I share this, and maybe you will hear what my heart says, taste my tears, feel my embrace, and the heat of my need.

She let go, in the dark and quiet of the silent night.

She whispered, softly the words she could never say in the daylight of her mothers life.

She did not use her fists, her guilt, or her brokeness to beg, plead or weep,” why did you never love me?”

She just let flow from her being, the release she has needed all her life.

Her question at the funeral, ” what is worse? having a mothers love your entire life, and being swept away by the grief when she dies, or never having that love and being indifferent to her passing?”

The sound of weeping has stained my ears.  My tears? Her tears? they are the worlds tears…

drifting, further and further from home…

My sanctuary, nothing more than the smell of ripe tomatoes and fresh baked bread.

A winding road that took me

here and there.

Money spent I didn’t have… my pockets feeling bruised and beaten.

Hiding in the sand, from family.

The chocolate sheep who melts in the sun. Hands over my ears blocking out the sounds of a world view I can not stomach.

Lost

The children who feel the earth, but no longer can taste it. Blind they reach

and reach.

What can I do? I am holding them, but they do not feel me, I am loving them, but they do not understand the tears, the embrace.

The tide carries me…

I sit in a can

with wings.

It moves me across the web of landscape. I can see the lines that are drawn so artfully in the ground. The borders and boundaries that separate.

Then

I see her.

and then she is gone.

I see her again, shuttered, behind pain. If you believe that time is linear, hold a childhood pain in your mind, and see if it doesn’t resonate in every pore. I want to mend, I want to fix, but within the grace, is understanding. I am here to be heard, to be seen~touched~and be known. Nothing more.  The world is broken. I saw a 12 year old girl, sitting on the floor in the visitors area of the prison, drawing hearts. pages of them. In between she would get phone calls on her cell phone. She would write the numbers down, and call disembodied voices and have “phone sex” with them. Her eye on the watch, hanging up at the correct moment, and going back to her hearts. I sat with pain, heart ache and endless fear. Justice is no more. Do not kid yourselves, Justice is for those who can afford it. You are not innocent until proven guilty, you are guilty until you prove otherwise. And all who love you are just as guilty by association, and deserving of scorn and ridicule, by those in positions of authority and power.

Lessons,

unfolding.

lessons like leaves on the wind, caught and strewn about.

I have learned

relearned

the same lesson.

We are all ripe and rotting in our disconnect. We are a tribe with no face. We are all about “I”, “Me”, “Mine”.

Connections are broken, washed away by artificial coloring and preservative,

leaving us nothing but an uncounseling taste in our mouths and a hunger for the sound of a friend.

Alone is a survival skill, it is not what we were made to be.

I am so tired…

of Song and Words

Songs are thoughts, sung out with the breath when people are moved by great forces and ordinary speech no longer suffices. Man is moved just like an ice floe sailing here and there out in the current. His thoughts are driven by a flowing force when he feels joy, when he feels fear, when he feels sorrow. Thought can wash over him like a flood, making his breath come n gasps and his heart throb. Sometimes, like an abatement in the weather, will keep him thawed up and then it will happen that we, who always think that we are small, will feel smaller. And we will fear to use our words, But it will happen that the words we need will come of themselves. When the words we want to use shoot up of themselves_ we get a new song.

Orpingalik, A Netsilingmint Eskimo

Thank you

I have been away,

busy,

doing.

It was so nice to come home,

albeit briefly,

to find so many gestures of Love

and care from

my friends here

in the blogosphere.

MerryMe was so kind as to leave me this sweet award,

and I am not sure if I am suppose to pass it forward,

hang on to it and display it proudly,

or just keep grinning from ear to ear when I see it.

on the odd chance I am suppose to share

Every one who comes to visit here is part of the sweetness of my days, and you rock!

so please help yourself to the award and a scoop of ice cream!

LOL

And even more wonderfulness was this postcard in my mailbox!

Thank you ISLTV!

this made me smile so BIG!!!

You remembered me!

Anyway, I am leaving again.

So I will not be around to read

or comment for a while.

in the space inbetween

BE GOOD

to

YOU

Light

My grandmother died.

I will not be back until the end of the month.

But in the space

inbetween

for me

and for you

light a candle,

and speak these words…

for those near

for those far

May love find you

hold you

and bring you peace .

and know you  can and do make a difference in this world.

Not all who wander are lost…