Turbo Snail III

Don't ask what happened to I and II.

A funny thing happened on the way home

To quote The Universe from my inbox this morning, "Time and space, The Ultimate Adventure".    Some days it really does feel like that.  I had a few moments this week when my inner core was an ant's eyelash away from going postal and I thought, "wow, this is what it feels like to go postal".  Being such a spiritually evolved human being (*snort*), I observed the feelings, then poured myself another vermut and stepped up to My Most Recent Ultimate Adventure.  Which was digesting this snippet from the timeline of history posted in my son's classroom.

Perhaps it is just semantics over the verb "prendre" (tr.: to take) and the negative connotation that overwhelms me to read it in this context.  Perhaps History could be deemed to be a subjective subject after all, couldn't it?

All this makes it so easy to segue into My Most Recent Observation of the Brazilian treehopper (photo originally linked by Marie EVB Gibbons) and how it was most likely separated at birth from this:

the hair from my rogue, hormonally driven follicle pulled from my chin this morning, the recurring hair that I pull about once a month. I have already written about this rogue here but looking back I see that it has grown coarser and more weapon-like over the last few years.

If I could sum up this Past Most Adventurous Week it would include my 12 year old Palm Pilot (the one holding all the telephone numbers and addresses that I consult from time to time but which was still the sacred cow of my recorded contacts)  upped and reset itself, erasing the entire memory.  All that displays on the current "Address" screen are the two 1-800 numbers for technical support which, judging from the age of this puppy, are no longer in service.

Dear Past, I hereby let go of you.  Maybe a little under protest and in a state of confusion, but I acknowledge that it is indeed time to look ahead.  Namaste.

Now, there's nothing like company coming to inspire an over due clean up.  Other than my chin getting plucked, I can thank the Queen of Arts for inspiring me to clean my toilet and for restocking my stock of her art/rocks.

This favourite person of mine 

and I are all set for our summer shenanigans now.

But wait! Before you go, I forgot to show you the astonishing rainbow from two weeks ago

and much about my Thelma-and-Louise Arizona retreat like the 79 cent Big Slurp (32 ounce) unsweetened iced tea  

the Mustang car rented, in true Thelma and Louise fashion, of course

the magic found in the garden

a dog named Belinda we spent two days with

 beetles making more beetles

and a culture very different from my own.

I confess I am a little bit on overwhelm lately with big changes hanging over the future.  Living the concept of constantly being in choice conflicts with the concept of not being able to control my situation which then induces panic attacks, usually in the middle of the night.  It is kind of like taking responsibility and yet feeling as if I am flapping in the breeze.  This life is not for the faint of heart.

My Arrow

Rumi crossed my path this morning to remind me about the push and pull of wanting something elusive.  He said,

"A man searching for spirit-treasure

cannot find it, so he is praying.

A voice inside says, You were given

the intuition to shoot an arrow

and then to dig where it landed,

but you shot with all your archery skill.

You were told to draw the bow

with only a fraction of your ability.

What you are looking for

is nearer than the big vein

on your neck. Let the arrow drop.

Do not exhaust yourself

like the philosophers who strain to shoot

the high arcs of their thought-arrows.

The more skill you use,

the farther you will be

from what your deepest love wants."

Random Thoughts and Inspirations

I had a head-slapping moment of "oh yes, me too" reading Lisa's Doorways Traveler blog this morning about being "true, transparent, real and human".  Everything she said was me and what a sense of comfort to know there is someone else in the world who can put words to my experience.  I urge you to go and read it for yourself, it is poetry and her photos are stunning and it made me feel as if everything was going to turn out alright after all.

Then I turned to the Queen of Arts blog and found an excerpt from Mary Oliver's, "When Death Comes" and felt completely gob-smacked.

You see, yesterday I experienced a little miracle and all of a sudden I feel like I am walking on a different planet Earth.

What I am acutely aware of today is that I have line-dried sheets

and a beautiful turquoise bathroom with white, white shower curtains.

I have friends who listen and iced tea that is golden in the sun.

I don't feel silly when I laugh at hearing women's breasts called "ta-tas".

I recently came home with a full moon drum

and had my first Skype conversation with my friend Kate, who helped me iron out my audio (or lack thereof).

Where I live, backyard composting means I put this in my bin

and provide tasty breakfasts, lunches and suppers for these guys

and I'm OK with that.

More often than not I feel a lot like Popeye - I yam who I yam.

and this is my world.

Wordless Wednesday

Pinkie & Peewee, a long awaited dream realized.

Time

I was recently gifted two books that have a common thread despite their different subject matter.

I took my time going through Donald Altman's, "One Minute Mindfulness" which, synchronistically came to me about the same time that Lisa Wilson started her own weekly mindfulness exercises and invited everyone to come along.  Mr. Altman's book offers 50 simple, short exercises that are easy to incorporate into your day each really only taking one minute or less.  From eating and walking to interactions with people, he suggests subtle shifts in our way of looking at and experiencing ourselves, encouraging us to let go of much, including our expectations.

From Chapter 26, he says, "  ...strive to let go of your expectations about the way people should act.  Instead of getting frustrated, accept that all individuals are imperfect and subject to ignorance, confusion, and delusion.  Then give as much as you feel capable of giving from your heart, without demanding anything in return."

Sweet, n'est-ce pas?  And he offers this form of prayer in transitioning from work to home: "With each unfolding minute upon entering my home, may I discharge negative emotions.  May I cultivate patience.  May I wisely transition in order to bring love, understanding, and tranquility into my home".

And on creativity, which was like a big 'oh yes', to me he says, "Creativity flourishes in an atmosphere of support and enthusiasm...most importantly, be your own creative best friend...call upon patience and faith to be your creative friends too."

Which lets me segue neatly into the second book, "Creating Time," by Marney K. Makridakis.

Not having, finding or making "the time" has been my biggest bugaboo about my personal work since I became a mother.  There just doesn't seem to be enough of my time to go around and I fall into that common category of failing to put myself first.  Ms. Makridakis' book is full of exercises to help you find and make the time for your own creativity.  What she calls ARTsignments, she inspires us to use the concept of time by exploring themes such as Creating Time through Gratitude (one of my favourites), Creating Time through Metaphor, Creating Time through Stillness, and I can't forget to mention starting each chapter off with a haiku, echoing the natural simplicity of some of her subjects.  With beautiful artwork on just about every page and quotes from some of my favourite sources of inspiration like SARK and Terri St. Cloud, I am appreciative for receiving this gift.

Wordless Wednesday

Oh, who am I kidding - me, wordless?  A shot of the "Super Moon" taken from the rental car window, 36 hours after its peak over the mountains in Arizona.

My new point and shoot 

arrived just in time for my next adventure - a weekend retreat with Penelope Smith at her place in Arizona.  Stay tuned for more....

Yikes, Blogger!  What did you do since I last wrote here?  I can't find anything!  It's as if someone came in and moved my furniture around.  Where is my sidebar?  Where are my options?  And I thought I was dropping in to open the windows, brush away some cobwebs, spruce the place up a bit, you know... And now I'm wasting precious time trying to find my "stuff".  First Facebook lets everyone see what news articles I read (honestly, it feels as if someone has walked in on me in the bathroom), now Blogger hides my "stuff".  It's enough to make me crawl back under my rock and hide or move over to wordpress or squarespace, but that would mean I am actually paying more attention over here.  Now, since I'm here, I'll share a few crazy things that have been rocking my world these last few weeks.

First of all, I dropped, and broke, my camera, my little Canon point and shoot and, shoot, I have missed it more than I thought I would.  My Big Girl camera is heavy and hard on my neck and back and so I tend to not take it along in the same way and the camera in my phone is...well...not my point and shoot.  And speaking of shoot, before it broke I discovered the first mint shoots up in my garden

and a stupendous beetle.  

 

I had breakfast with Marge 

and Homer

coached on how to blow bubblegum bubbles.

I scored some soccer shoes

hung out with a moose

despaired about graffiti on our school - spelling, anyone?

I have taken exquisite care of myself, said good-bye to the brother of a dear friend, and to the dog of another dear friend (f*ck you, cancer).  I have felt a little prickly

had a hissy fit or two

washed my hair

and spied on the neighbours.

I ordered two bathing suits online and found they both fit - or fit as well as any bathing suit will on this morphing menopausal body (alas, no photos).   I have purged clutter and paid my taxes, laughed one-sixteenth of the way around the block

slowed down

made peace, if not friends with the bandits

and taken a giant leap into the future, with one big toe still back "here" on the ground.  

I have committed to two adventures these next two weekends which will find me travelling near and far(ther).  

I have been absent, present and changing faster than a chameleon could accommodate his own cammoflage.  And it's all been good and overdue and necessary.

Friday Haiku

One Billy Goat Gruff

Two giddy nosey parkers

Love me some Easter!

Now, where was I ......

I want I want I want. How decidedly unspiritual that sounds. I do want some “things”, material things, things to happen, but what I want now, more than ever, is to rejoin my life, where ever it is when I left it behind, when I put it on hold.

I want to wake up in the morning and shout “I LOVE MY LIFE!” and am reminded of that book by Lynn Grabhorn, "Excuse Me, Your Life is Waiting".

My monkey mind lays low, sometimes for months and then suddenly I realize it let itself in the back door unseen and has been hypnotizing me with its chatter for a blurred amount of time.

My presence here has been sparse most of this calendar year or longer, my time taken up with some big inner events shifting me in every way possible. I feel tender and vulnerable and changed. I have also been absent fighting a battle I chose to take up over what I perceive as a gross injustice.

How can I let go of obsessing about this injustice that sits under my nose every day? Why can’t my mind and my heart learn once and for all that underneath the injustice I see there is pure justice. I just can’t see it right now. Oh karma, you confuse and torment me sometimes. Is it ultimately about control and how I am railing against not being able to control this outcome? Can I let what I perceive as injustice find its own balance? Damn, it’s hard. On June 22, it can all be told. But will there be any point, then?

My warrioress has been called to drop her sword and shield and to come in peace within myself. I am consciously letting go and trusting. I am not giving up, it is more like I am giving “it” up. And I am certainly not admitting defeat, only that being in a pissing contest with a skunk is not where I want to spend any more of my days.

Now, where was I? I was having virtual coffee on Tuesdays and virtual vermut on Fridays when I wasn’t busy penning a haiku. I silenced myself through Wordless Wednesdays. I was laughing and crying over many, many different things. I was making art and feeding my soul, dancing to Motown music on the radio and cranking open the sun roof. Little things meant a lot and my cynicism was at bay. I know I am not going back, I am going forward with a new bend in my road and my eyes softly focused on my heart and something intangible that knows itself inside.

So... if we were meeting for a vermut today, I would have lots of pictures to show you. There would be the whole St. Patrick’s Day sets of green, from green scrambled eggs

to dogs

and more dogs

a few Super Heroes

a leprechaun at the bowling alley

and a few other funny faces

There was even a green mocha

and unforgettable shoes.

I would show you more colours, like red

and more red

red and yellow

and classic gray

There would be silly signs at the park entrance

we wondered how the people were to ride the see-saw and play tennis if humans were not allowed to walk through or even how they would manage to wake board without breaking the rules.

There would be evidence of dogs breaking the rules.

If we were meeting for vermut I would tell you this year has been a lot about patience

and knowing when to slow down and rest.

We have had spring days where we could go barefoot

then had to quickly change back to full battle gear.

I have made Chakra Tea with Latisha Guthrie, learning a valuable lesson about what I can find in my Homedirt if I look hard enough

and celebrated a birthday or two.

I have weaned myself off the Picnik photo processing site and tweaked many of the photos above over at Picmonkey and although I haven't fully explored the site, I would say is a darned fine (free) replacement for the beloved Picnik.

And then, if you were still with me, I would say let's go over to Kate's to see if she will spot us a glass or two and maybe we could get Bonnie and Blue to sing Row, Row, Row Your Boat with us in English.