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joy, guilt, laughter

Three years ago I participated in Level Five, a performance art piece designed by Brody Condon (with assistance from Bjarke Pederson and Tobias Wrigstad.) Level Five took the form of a 1970’s era EST or Landmark-style forum, with one caveat: all of the participants attended in character.

Over the course of one hauntingly memorable weekend at the Hammer Museum, I sat in a room full of strangers simultaneously playing roles and undergoing (ostensible) personal transformation.  I cannot explain to you how odd it is to make acquaintances, learn, write, eat, shout, grieve, and even fall in love while in character.

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July 24, 2013 · 7:39 am

hydrosol & facial recipes

20130722_185400As promised, here are a few of the recipes we created last night at the hydrosol workshop.

A hydrosol is a steam-distilled essence of a plant.  If you do not have a still, you can create your own hydrosols by piling fragrant, fresh plants (rosemary, lavender, fennel, elderflower, rose petal, calendula…) into a stainless steel or enamel pot with a domed lid.   Continue reading

9 Comments

July 24, 2013 · 3:03 am

Just Jump

20130722_101830Yesterday I took a walk with a friend.  We walked through scented valleys, among heartrendingly beautiful groves of ancient oak and sycamore.  This land has always been sacred, a source of constant water in an arid range. When I walk here, messages are so close to the surface.

Here is what I mean:  when I lift my water bottle to take a drink, the wind rushes across and sounds a low, perfect note.  Or, lying back in the cool water of the creek, watching the herons dive for fish, setting the waterlilies trembling, I melt completely into the water until there is no difference between my heartbeat and the bend of the cattails in the wind.  Here there is water, shelter, food, joy, an abundance of everything.  So too there is an abundance in me. Continue reading

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July 24, 2013 · 2:30 am

women’s joy circle: thank you, it’s true

Sparkling wine for two.

Last night, for the first time, joy circle met in public, on the outdoor patio of a downtown restaurant.  We were surrounded by tables of young hipsters (the men bearded, the women in cateye glasses and/or handmade purses), fairy lights, and fountains, the sky slowly darkening over the busy park opposite.   We opened circle as we traditionally do, left hand palm up, right hand palm down, connecting palm to palm all around, breathing deeply together.  I passed around the goddess cards and everyone selected an archetype to ponder while ordering bruschetta and wine and creme brulee. Continue reading

5 Comments

July 17, 2013 · 5:43 am

every day is poetry

cropped-fairy-house.jpgI’ve been leading a morning camp for four-year-olds this week, pressed into service with little warning as a last-minute substitute.  I had only two days to prepare a curriculum and acquire supplies.  Through the years I’ve been an environmental skills teacher, a land steward, a preschool teacher, a daycare coordinator, a Waldorf teacher, and a K-5 art teacher.  I should have had this easily covered.  And yet—it’s been years, and several iterations, since I last identified as a teacher.  I feel—not rusty, but as though I’m trying to slip into an old skin.  Like a cicada squeezing into the case it shed.  I don’t really fit as a teacher anymore. Continue reading

6 Comments

July 11, 2013 · 3:13 am

Women’s Joy Circle: Despair & Complaint

i swear.

Last Saturday I sat in a circle of women at the home of a friend.  We’d shared a bountiful and delectable meal, gathered around a cleansing fire, protected ourselves all around with candlelight and color and books and beauty. Yet when we sat to share and listen, there was such darkness there.  So much sorrow and pain and terror, wrong turns and misunderstandings and fury.  Our children were being put in danger, our elected representatives were trying to eliminate our basic rights, our voices were being silenced, and we were in PAIN.  I had actually turned it over and over in my mind whether I should come to this circle or not, as I’d been in a bit of a funk myself and didn’t want to inflict my turbulent energy on others. Continue reading

8 Comments

June 18, 2013 · 2:41 pm

when i think of joy

Church of Ireland Graveyard in Milltown Malbay...

Milltown Malbay, county Clare

Recently, talking with a friend, I was asked to describe my “life’s moment.”  I had never heard this phrase, and I asked for clarification. He told me: “if you had to choose one moment that stood for your life, the moment you could condense it all into—tell me that one. Tell me the memory that comes up when you think of joy.”

When I was sixteen I went to Ireland for the summer.  I’d answered an ad at the back of Friends Journal: elderly woman seeks summer caregiver to cook and read aloud.  She was losing her sight.  I went to meet her in the retirement community where she spent her winters.

Her hair stood out in snowy tufts from her face, a face with the sharpest blue eyes I’d ever seen.  She evaluated me twice, once with her failing sight and once with her intuition, ticking away there behind her eyes so that I could feel it, almost, a finger on my skin. And then she reached for my hand and hugged it to her, cackling “You are far too young, my dear, but what the hell!” Continue reading

7 Comments

June 14, 2013 · 6:15 pm

Women’s Joy Circle: Do Not Disturb

Barbed wire (rusting after years of hard work)...

For my half-birthday this year I sent out a letter to people I greatly respected, people who have known me through very diverse stages of my life, some dear old friends and some passing acquaintances.  I asked them to bravely, honestly, share with me what they saw as my challenges.  And I asked them to answer this question:  if you could wave a wand and ‘fix’ me without ever having to worry about my knowing or being offended, what would you change?

I did this because I was in one of those troughs of experience in which I had finished up one phase and not yet discerned what was next, and I wanted to choose wisely.  I wanted to step bravely into my strengths and shine a light on some of my weaknesses, to carve out new ways rather than following old comfortable paths.

Receiving the answers was terribly scary and difficult.  Part of me desperately hoped for responses of “I wouldn’t fix a thing!  Nope, you’re absolutely perfect as you are!” (even though I’d expressly forbidden anyone to answer that way.) But the curious, contemplative side of me wanted to know.  It wanted those shadows aired.  And I am so glad that my brave, wonderful friends responded to that side of me.  Their bravery started this blog, because one response I heard over and over again was that I needed to share my writing. Continue reading

4 Comments

June 11, 2013 · 3:42 am

Women’s Joy Circle: Internal/External ways of knowing

Giuseppe Arcimboldo - Farm Woman Going to Mark...

Giuseppe Arcimboldo – Farm Woman Going to Market

In the normal course of things, writing comes to me like breathing.  I do it without thinking.  When I sit down to write an article or a post or a letter, I am more mindful of writing, just as I am more mindful of my breath during a yoga class or meditation.  But it is still an involuntary process, flowing through me, requiring little of me.

Lately this has not been so.  It’s been a tumultuous few weeks: last week I traveled to Indiana with my parents and children to visit our family matriarch, a powerful woman of 95 years who ran a dairy farm alone after her husband dropped dead, leaving her with three small boys and pregnant with a fourth.  From all accounts, Grandma’s  early life was pretty joyless: an unhappy marriage followed by an even unhappier widowhood, constant struggle with poverty and endless hard work, a tornado that destroyed her entire town, hopes for a second marriage that were cruelly dashed, an unsupportive and judgmental extended family and church community.

As an adult, I can see all of this.  Yet as a child, my experience of Grandma was her ever-present gravelly chuckle, her bustling busy-ness as she baked and crocheted and painted, utter delight in her work as a hairdresser and in her family.  Grandma always sent buckets of presents for Christmas, and her house was full of art and candy.  Her hair was always perfectly curled and colored, her eyes were always sparkling.  She gave me my first “permanent” when I was 12 years old, treating me as a co-conspirator in my endeavor to be beautiful despite the disapproval of my staunchly anti-chemical-hair-enhancement parents (the heathens!) Continue reading

4 Comments

June 4, 2013 · 7:38 pm

rose hip soda

English: Some rose hips in close-up

In college, I built myself a thatch hut and lived in the woods on a bed of leaves and cattail down.  I foraged for food in baskets I wove of kudzu and honeysuckle vines.  And under that bed of leaves, right on top of the hand-hooked rag rug made of my old t-shirts, was my secret stash of Diet Coke.

I have finally, many years later, completely weaned myself off of corn-syrup or chemical-cocktail sweetened sodas.  But I am still a sucker for a fancy fizzy drink!  There is something that sings to me about a sun-drenched porch on a sweltering day, listening to the soft fizz and clank of ice cubes in a cold glass.

So I have learned to make my own sodas.

Here is my current favorite recipe:

Rose Hip Soda

2 tbsp. dried rose hips or 1/2 cup fresh

1/2 cup agave nectar or honey

1/2 cup kefir grains or 1 cup kefir whey or yogurt whey

1/2 organic lime

filtered water

~Place the rose hips, sweetener, and kefir grains or whey into a two-quart jar. Squeeze the lime juice in, then cut up the peel and throw it in too.  Add enough filtered water to fill the jar.

~Screw the lid onto the jar and leave it in a warm place for 2 days.

~Strain the soda into two glass bottles (empty mineral-water bottles or swing-top bottles are great).  Add enough water to fill to the very top. Screw the lids on tightly, label, and return to a warm place for another 2-3 days. Transfer to the fridge.

~Open them carefully and over a sink—they get REALLY fizzy.

~Pour over ice, add a slice of lemon, and sit on your sun-drenched porch!

I make this recipe with lavender too, which is DELICIOUS, substituting dried lavender flowers for the rose hips and lavender-infused raw sugar for the honey.

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If you are unfamiliar with kefir grains, they are a lovely little squishy organism that you use to make your own kefir (or, as it happens, soda.)  If you do not have kefir grains, check to see if there is a chapter of the Weston A. Price foundation near you; often these gatherings are replete with kefir and kombucha and other fun k-things.  Or you can use whey from homemade yogurt (or store-bought if it has live cultures and isn’t sweetened).  The whey is simply the watery part.  To obtain kefir whey, let your kefir sit out a day longer than you would normally to make it, and it will separate into curds and whey.  Strain out the grains, pour off the whey, and use the curds to make kefir cheese!

This recipe is adapted from Full Moon Feast by Jessica Prentice, which is highly recommended for anyone who likes a little bit of storytelling and cultural history with their recipes.

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May 23, 2013 · 4:15 pm