tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-92232980386079702692024-02-21T03:22:29.198-05:00House of Try StuffCommunal living in Guelph, OntarioIngridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06189901588736133179noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9223298038607970269.post-80102919374758108872015-01-07T16:39:00.001-05:002015-01-07T19:35:23.810-05:00Artists making Artists make ArtI am really appreciating the effect of living among other artists.<br />
<br />
Sean has started doing <a href="http://juliacameronlive.com/basic-tools/morning-pages/">morning pages</a> and I noticed the positive effect this is having on my system this morning.<br />
<br />
I headed up to my room this morning after breakfast and spotted him in the living room, beginning his writing. I smiled and nodded and proceeded up to what I had begun to plan for my day. I initially processed seeing Sean in the living room as an isolated event in the sense that I was separate and would not be influenced by his morning page writing. I have in other moments noticed aversion and resistance to acknowledging that he has been writing morning pages. Why would this be? The only way I can make sense of it is that it was an expression of my own resistance to developing a writing/art practice, even though I deeply want to. <a href="http://www.stevenpressfield.com/the-war-of-art/">Steven Pressfield</a> says it's inevitable. On some level, I was envious of Sean for actually doing it.<br />
<br />
Moments after seeing him in the living room, I found myself upstairs, pen in hand, writing in my journal. I hadn't intended to do it. It had not been part of what I was planning for the day, even though I had felt a tug of yearning to do exactly what Sean was doing. It seemed that somehow, despite my resistance to slowing down and writing, the wise desire to do so took over and...there I was, producing!<br />
<br />
Later this afternoon I found myself bundled up and heading out the door with a backpack full of watercolour crayons, a journal, and a camera. Right before I headed out I beamed as I told Sean, "I'm going on an artist's date". Meaning I was, in Julia Cameron's terms, going out to let my creative mind lead and interact with my environment accordingly, ultimately surprising myself. I can't help but think that the emergence of Julia Cameron's thinking in the morning hours via Sean's morning page writing influenced, if not the act itself of going out, then the way in which I understood and framed it: as an "artist's date". This in turn created the possibility to impact Sean positively: he got the chance to process my creative choice of use of time and energy this afternoon which could further inspire and influence his own art-making. Just his one-word response of "cool"to my announcement of the Artist's Date impacted me, in turn, enough to increase my felt sense of the momentum building between and among artists talking about making art! We are, after all, social creatures of habit and mimicry. Let's copy each other making art and talk about it!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9223298038607970269.post-80903481214720010062014-01-26T10:02:00.000-05:002014-01-26T10:02:03.153-05:00reflections from Music Makers night<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I want to document and share my experience of the dialogue that
James and I had following the Music Makers Songwriting night this week.
The dialogue felt significant to me both in our personal relating and
in "the larger work" of paradigm-shifting.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I had struggled on Tuesday night in the group songwriting
process, and I told this to James afterwards. I had felt again like the
kid in class, bearing through the calamities of (to me)
too-fast-too-many-voices-all-at-once. I felt my needs for
spaciousness weren't recognized and weren't being met in the group
context. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I very much wanted to participate -- and spoke a request to
facilitate this. But most of the workshop for me was spent absorbing
the new ideas, new questions, new parts of the process (all very cool)
and it was all I could do to keep up and continually re-engage with the
new things occurring (without having fully processed the last new thing
yet), without withdrawing and zoning out. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">This left me completely exhausted with little energy to be an
active co-creator in the songwriting.</span></span><br />
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</div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The experience was all too familiar. It was almost every group
experience I have had up until a few years ago. Growing up, in school, I
believed that there was something just too different about me
(something wrong with me) that rendered me incapable of participating in
a class activity of this sort. It was only in the last few years that I
have found myself in different group contexts -- ones that were
sensitive to what I need to feel fully invited to participate. And it
is only now, having had new experiences, that I can deconstruct and
articulate my old experiences.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /> </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The more I spoke my experience to James, the more I felt into just
how
much I have been hurt by a system that silences and drowns out and
excludes the quieter voices. I keep thinking of the kids in class who
haven't yet had a different group experience, who believe "that's just
the way groups are" or "that's just the way the world is and I don't
belong". </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I imagine they do not know that<b> they will thrive in a different context</b>. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I imagine they do not know that their experience of being left out is
neither personal nor accidental -- that it is a natural outcome of a
system so deeply entrenched in domination and oppression that even the
most well-meaning, loving, caring teachers will, and do, marginalize.</span></span><br />
<br />
</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I felt that James heard me. This was monumental, and
healing. It felt vital to shifting to a new system that includes and
deeply values the vast diversity of ways of being among us. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I heard
from James curiosity about my experience. I gather that my experience
is quite foreign to him -- recalling the one house meeting in which my
check-out was "I felt really safe to speak this meeting" and his
followed, beginning with "Well...me being James...I've had the luxury of
NEVER feeling unsafe to speak" (something like that). </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I also heard
from James a desire to create a context that doesn't "marginalize the
Ingrids", and I heard questions about how to do that within the existing
structural constraints (e.g. schools' timetables) as well as how to do
that while considering, too, the restless Jameses and myriad other
beings in the class. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Another thing I heard from James was the
recognition that doing it differently would reach more people, have more
impact, be more powerful! All of this excites me, and even while he
and I struggled in the depths of coercive thought patterns (there was
definitely that happening in the dialogue too), I felt the significance
of these events and revealings. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I felt new possibilities for liberatory
leadership and a liberatory world open up as we lovingly created a
context in which I could speak my experience fully while he listened open-heartedly.</span></span></div>
Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06189901588736133179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9223298038607970269.post-81805357006522907662013-12-06T12:34:00.000-05:002013-12-06T12:34:25.198-05:00I Speak for Tree and Forest<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Just because I don't say anything doesn't mean I don't know anything</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Rooted here, aging, I can't help but know.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I know when the sun comes and when it goes</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I know when the rains fall and the waters flow</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I know that lightening strikes, that the winds rage</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I know dry spells, scarcity, scorch and scathe</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I know thirst, the yearning for life juice</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And I know bounty, abundance; wholeness too</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I know when the seasons shift</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I know when something is amiss</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I know fragmentation</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Habitation destruction </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Senseless wasteland production</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A war against our own womb</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I know short-sightedness</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Lovelessness turned lustfulness</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">For power, weapons and control</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Beneath this ancient domination</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A sad need to be seen</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Something missing</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A hole needing filling</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And for lack of love</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">They fill it with money</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Made out of my leaves</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I know injury, trauma</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I know grief</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I know my sister tree who died next to me</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I know dark; and I know light </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I know acceptance</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And patience </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And letting go</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I know more than meets the eye</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Eyes I have none</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But wiser am I</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">For my blind feeling into earth and sky</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">With my rooting roots and sensing shoots</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Rings in my wood storing stories so true</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">If you listen</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Listen differently</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I would tell you</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">All that I know </span></span>Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06189901588736133179noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9223298038607970269.post-29096473588989430532013-10-26T20:04:00.000-04:002013-10-26T20:04:06.422-04:00Canning: every broken jar is a resource<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Vats of boiling water</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">CLUNK-POP</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Oh no</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Not another one!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">BROKEN</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Peaches float about</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Frustration</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Indignation </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I don't know what to do</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Why this keeps happening</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I've tried everything</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I'm tired</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I want to stop</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And then I realize that I could.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The only thing holding me</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">To this task of canning peaches</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Is my own self will</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My heart-desire to re-skill</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My deep knowing that this is ever so important</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Patience befalls as my body eases into this wisdom</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I need not succumb to discouragement</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I need not get angry at broken jars</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">For they are not failures at all</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But precious, precious resources</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In my learning journey</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">With each one is filed away</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In my memory and my body</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">What to do when this happens</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">What happens when I do this</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Now I have that knowledge</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Now I have this skill</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">That I will build</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In canning seasons yet to come</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And it is part of the shift</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Already it makes a difference</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Like all those other resources</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Edges I am living. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span>Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06189901588736133179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9223298038607970269.post-74493896001931125782013-10-26T12:28:00.002-04:002013-10-26T12:28:52.030-04:00"Pretty" by Katie Makkai<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Really great spoken word!Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06189901588736133179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9223298038607970269.post-57730932481045210062013-07-14T18:18:00.000-04:002013-07-14T18:18:54.747-04:00One step beyondNoticing that in nature flows and structures complement one another, that when one can be sensed, the other is there too even if it is harder to identify ... noticing that nature is marvelously exuberant in profuse exemplars and instances of the interplay of membrane and vibration too, I am encouraged to suggest an invitation to another kind of complementarity.<br />
<br />
What could it look like to receive in manners that are new to you, in flows that are guided by structures you do not recognize, and to give in a manner that is likewise unfamiliar? To be in complementarity in receiving in ways that show up in structures unlike those you know to be workable, from someone who is able to try a new way too? To give in a complementarity that has new life to it, because the gift is received by someone in a way that expands their sense of possibility?<br />
<br />
I say that because I am hoping you are ready for imagination and intuition, and when a chance arrives to let life flow in your sphere in a structure that isn't old hat to you, you say yes to a bit of adventure.<br />
<br />
I'd love to see more flow of life encouraged in this community.<br />
<br />
I'd love to see you invite and encourage flows that happen with more verve because giver and recipient both are allowing something beyond the same old ways. That happen because a single step was taken, just not one that had been taken before.<br />
<br />
And I am ready for you to encourage me to give and to receive in ways that are exciting to me, and create more possibility. <br />
<br />
And I am ready to encourage you, and hope that these words already have, to say yes to flows and structures that expand your repertoire for giving what is good for you to give and receiving what is good for you to receive, creating more possibility for you.<br />
<br />
I truly would be pleased to hear that you experience that kind of verve, however it might show up for you.Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11312613047897009666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9223298038607970269.post-6534835119773939842013-07-09T14:23:00.002-04:002013-07-09T14:25:14.464-04:00Feeling food systems in my body.<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I distinguished something today.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The sense of protectiveness I have had of my kitchen time has come from a place of fear of being judged. Beneath the boundaries that have come up around me when it’s kitchen time for me has been an extreme sense of vulnerability around my process with food.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I consider myself to be in a process of re-learning how to eat. What has been “normal” doesn’t work for this body. More and more bodies are speaking up about this.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My body knows the stories of the foods that come into it. Tuning into this knowledge is part of the process of re-learning. It is sitting with the pain and complexity of the systems that produce our food. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When an avocado or banana is the best thing my body could want in this moment, I cannot make the choice free of the impacts it has on the systems.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Perhaps my body will never be able to make complete peace with the foods it eats until the systems en masse are re-invented.</span></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-2c3bde07-c4ab-e644-b4fd-0d925d57e06a"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Offering my opening to non-solution-focused understanding.</span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9223298038607970269.post-68995020545715818982013-07-07T22:19:00.003-04:002013-07-07T22:19:43.477-04:00RewildingAn amazing day at the house of trystuff.<br />
The second day in a row it has been primarily Sean and me in the house for most of the day.<br />
Ingrid has gone. James has gone. Fron is out on adventures as usual.<br />
Surfing my coercive patterns by day for the second day now, the depth and mystery of which confuse me, I sail into the afternoon with weight and a determination to shift my perspective.<br />
I sit like a rock on the garden bench for a while. I stand up and walk out into the street.<br />
Then the rain begins.<br />
Blood runs to my legs and lips, turning them to a smile. My walk morphs into an exuberant jog. I begin to run up the trail into the park.<br />
I meander into the thick of underbrush beneath a clump of trees and sing and dart about like a nymph.<br />
Things only get better from here. No one is around. Some dark, shady figure on the park bench with a scraggly ponytail. Perfect. As focused and aimless as me. A few dogs pass me and people with smiles or cigarettes. I continue on my private song and engrossment.<br />
Drops continue from the sky. I walk down to the edge of the river and stand by the rocks squeezing out rushes of hasty water. Heron comes flying low along the bank and lands before the rocks, where it always likes to. I nodded. "I saw you coming," I say to the Heron. I thought I had seen it this morning, but it was just a piece of wood then. Now it's here.<br />
I sing to the rushing river. The rain begins to pelt. Shady ponytail is still there. No one can here me because the raindrops are catching my song and throwing it out to the river.<br />
I turn and run out from the tree. I run for cover under another tree. I sing more. I wait for the rain to let up. It doesn't. It keeps going strong.<br />
I have an urge to run back out to the river's edge. I do. I stand and watch the water rush and watch the drops land and they soak into my clothes.When I am done standing, I begin to run home. I run under the rain and it soaks through my clothes. I surrender to the wet. My smile grows bigger. I laugh. I laugh harder. I sing louder, and my chest bounces and my song gets cut with each landing. I feel the re-wilding happening. The re-wilding others have been talking about.<br />
I run home and take off my clothes. I run to the pond. I put my legs in, then I slip right in and shriek and yelp while I wonder what lives in the bottom. All I feel is rubber and leaf guts. I shake a little and pull my legs back out.<br />
Then I lie with my legs in the pond for a while, and try different positions of lying over the pond and try out different rocks to sit on. I get up and lie on the rocks in the garden. I feel the tomato plants' relish and promise of growth.<br />
Finally I am cold and my soul, very reluctant, follows me and my clothes in and we ring ourselves out and take a shower.<br />
I go upstairs and turn up Simon and Garfunkel really loud. I've got paints out and a brush in hand but I can hardly focus for all the dancing and singing I'm doing. I run downstairs and Sean takes a break from his sauce and dances with me for a bit.<br />
The sauce wafts into the rooms of the house. I pour my tea and sit impatiently on the stairs, watching the rain get in a frenzy again.<br />
I go into the kitchen and impose my impatience on the process. So the sauce is declared ready. Sean and I dish steaming heaps of simmered tomato and vegetables into our plates with rice and sit in the dining room. Mouths and bellies suddenly grow hot. We talk about cottage memories of rainy days foods.<br />
Soon I am in the living room again, dancing and singing. Who knows where anyone is. I swirl and dance and sing with the freedom I used to know when I was alone. Magic runs through shakers and my hands and the piccolo I try to play with my lips and my feet and fingers and I feel magic rise from my throat and I belt like there are no prosecutors anymore. I am free. I dance into the rainy night.<br />
This makes me want to live this life! This makes me know I live with people who want me to be myself freely. By day, miscommunications get in the way and seem to impinge on our freedom. But that's not all. I sense the possibility of creative collaboration and I sense the many avenues through which we can connect. We can nurture this mystery. We can re-wild ourselves, and meet that way.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9223298038607970269.post-68942675625723515112013-06-21T22:16:00.000-04:002013-06-21T22:16:21.273-04:00Considering possibilities for intimate love<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Consider the possibility that falling in love doesn't have to look like what it looks like in the movies.</i></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Consider the possibility that true love is far more abundant than the movies will have you believe.</i></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Consider the possibility that a person can be genuinely passionately whole-heartedly in love with two or more people at once.</i></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>That love for someone else doesn't detract from love for you.</i><i> </i></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>(Perhaps it amplifies it.)</i><i> </i></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Consider the
possibility that falling in love doesn't have a destination. Two people
can be in love and it is not goal-oriented. It is just the pleasure
and mystery of the moment. </i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Or the pain and confusion.</i><i> </i></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Consider the possibility that I can be having an experience of scarcity, entitlement, jealousy, but Nothing's Actually Wrong.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Over and over again I let go of old concepts of intimate love.<br />Over and over again I shake with fright.<br />Over and over again I find my ground.</i></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Over and over again I cry with gratitude.<br />
</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Everything's okay. It's okay. Those are just
possibilities. You don't have to believe them. You don't have to
subscribe to them. Just consider them. Try them on. If you hate them,
you can let them go, too.</i></span></span>Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06189901588736133179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9223298038607970269.post-72407517087347841692013-06-17T09:18:00.000-04:002013-06-17T09:19:36.915-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9223298038607970269.post-89217122247456034012013-06-17T09:08:00.001-04:002013-06-17T09:08:04.674-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Trying Stuff</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9223298038607970269.post-30216079900162593322013-06-17T08:52:00.001-04:002013-06-17T08:58:42.946-04:00A view from my bedroom window.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9223298038607970269.post-91017272618364867262013-06-17T08:09:00.000-04:002013-06-17T08:09:57.850-04:00Intimate Relating<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My relating with You has catalyzed major rearranging in myself around intimacy, love, beauty, value, and just about everything else. I am deeply grateful for this catalyzing. And I also have felt shame and embarrassment that so much has unfolded for me around You. Yet in the process I became so clear - viscerally clear - that it wasn’t about you. AT ALL!</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I experienced hope, attachment, and fear in my relating with You...which led to a profound and vivid connection to myself as Love. My sense of desire, fear, and hope around You ultimately led me back to a profound sense of love in myself - the infinite kind that connects me to all beings. It also stimulated in me an enlivened connection to my own sensuality. I distinguished that, in historically relating intimately with people and then becoming attached (or repulsed), what I am ultimately attached to is a chance to express myself intimately. Historically, I have believed this chance is scarce. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Upon realizing that, I sailed into a current of discovering a way in which I can relate to the world where I do express myself intimately, abundantly. Including in non-sexual situations. I realized there was the possibility of being much more open-hearted with the wider world in ways which I have historically only been with lovers. I had the experience of the possibility of feeling “in love” with anybody, at any time when I chose to drop into the moment. It was easy. I realized that I am in control of choosing to open myself up and fall into someone else’s presence. I can do that at anytime, with anybody. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have also distinguished that intimate relating feels like a way for me to get to know somebody...the visceral, word-sparse or wordless experience of connecting with someone physically feels natural to me and can make more sense than talking, particularly talking without touch. In a society where non-touch talking-relating is more enforced and supported than touch relating, it makes sense that I am distinguishing this as my own preference, as I return to being a physically-relating being. This preference of mine to explore people that way has been a new awareness for me and helped to clarify why I like to relate intimately.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My new expression in the world has been fulfilling for me. I am opening up to the possibility that many people can help take care of me; that I can walk as my sensitive tender lover-self in the world; that it is a gift to the world; that intimate relating is not taboo; that I can express my needs, including needs for intimate relating; that I am a powerful being in the world of intimate relating. These are all exciting and new ideas and are changing the way I am relating to people. I can feel my trust deepen and expand that other people are allies, and can help me meet my needs. And that makes my needs more worth expressing. And that allows people to connect with me more.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It is new learning for me to realized that I create the conditions for intimate relating, sexual or non. Not someone else. </span></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-4aa2f573-5205-c291-88d0-89c5eb3569a3"></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And that we are ongoingly co-creators in any moment. This replaces the power-over-under humanity 2 dynamic which I have historically perceived and generated in relationship. </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9223298038607970269.post-78603438503763735112013-06-03T08:21:00.000-04:002013-06-05T16:04:44.966-04:0006-02-13 stream of consciousness<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I am interwoven in a web that won't let me disappear</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Won't let me self-isolate</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Won't let me slip into abysses</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Won't let me succumb to the old stories</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Of scarcity, seclusion, aloneness.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So long I have been a single lone star</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Swimming small in an ocean vast</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Singing my own song, a lonely little tune</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">A single voice <i>a capella</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Crisp and clear and strong and longing</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Now I am joined by other spirits so numerous</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">A whole orchestra so luminous</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Filling--no, <i>flooding</i>--the ocean with love</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Loving harmonies and dissonances</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Full and joyful and fucking weird </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Calling attention to the spaces between us</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">That hold us and bind us</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">That separate us --</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Only so we know Who We Are</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Selves defined</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In connectance with each other</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The light we shine is unstoppable</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The light we shine on each other, for each other</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Magnifies each other</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Magnifies our brilliances </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The light we shine is so blinding</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The light we shine is so explosively multiplicitous</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The light we shine excites the Earth</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The Earth brilles and shivers </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The magnitude of the light we shine is rolling thunder</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The magnitude of our brilliance multiplies manifold magnanimously</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The light we shine on new ways of being!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The future looks impossibly <b>bright</b>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The urge to leave is so strong in me</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In my ancestry</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It's been generations of training to prepare</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In case of emergency</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In case of battle and combative egos</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Soldiers at your front door</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Pointing guns at your brothers and sisters' heads</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My dad, a little boy, watched them die.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In case of disease and body withering</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Frailty into nothing</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">No more breath to argue</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">One last breath to defend herself </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My dad and I, an old man and a young girl, watched her die.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In case of loss loss loss. Loss. Loss loss.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Loss is inevitable.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">LOSS IS GUARANTEED.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Loss lives strong in our experience.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So we prepare.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So we demarcate our boundaries.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So we strengthen borders.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So we don't hurt so much.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Despite knowing</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Hurting means loving.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It is possible to lose without getting hurt--</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">IF you are willing, too, to give up people.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Without people, there is nothing to lose.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Without people, you are invincible, forever.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Without people, you are unstoppable.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">All the way to the fence around your house.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Your house for one.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Back door open.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So you can run from yourself, too.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">What kind of ecosystem is that?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Unsustainable. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I feel bad for my dad.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In the other room, my dad says</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">"Open your heart"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Open, open</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Let it open</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Let it breathe</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Let breath in</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Everything will be okay.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It's not a problem.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Family.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The rapidity with which my cells are re-organizing</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Overtakes me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Everything about me screams power.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span>Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06189901588736133179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9223298038607970269.post-65212372638418703682013-06-01T21:09:00.001-04:002013-06-01T21:09:13.628-04:00When I Remember My Joy<p dir=ltr><a href="http://Drumhand.ca">Drumhand</a> say, in the words of a folk song from southern Ghana, "When I remember my joy, something happen to my system."</p>
<div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfHRkhNMIS2YTTPxCDaFMpQWanPIITMy39xNHDT7WpcAc2iqAEUckYLWFQjBqZGcv0ha8hDwi1ZcQ2TTLso33c2Rx7ixVlN1dFKBqa3_m8h9RBnkmeSdv9qjZ1_ws3VFh2tVHL6lUEvVUp/s1600/1370135175853.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfHRkhNMIS2YTTPxCDaFMpQWanPIITMy39xNHDT7WpcAc2iqAEUckYLWFQjBqZGcv0ha8hDwi1ZcQ2TTLso33c2Rx7ixVlN1dFKBqa3_m8h9RBnkmeSdv9qjZ1_ws3VFh2tVHL6lUEvVUp/s640/1370135175853.jpg' /> </a> </div>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11312613047897009666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9223298038607970269.post-48726561666657540472013-05-23T23:12:00.002-04:002013-05-23T23:12:45.480-04:00SketchingFree sketching is such a simple pleasure. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Hv3FUn84L-j-u1BNlDJHKCyixCSxwD-KM9wJKBCkdW2KeqcChxyIOHF8Vq7yPZX7n9nDLk8Yo70hUEdePzy54LRNJRHrhQ9pulRDMbf704gxz_vh8It79npGweEcCXeldsAsXejh0DCb/s1600/rps20130523_225737_724.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Hv3FUn84L-j-u1BNlDJHKCyixCSxwD-KM9wJKBCkdW2KeqcChxyIOHF8Vq7yPZX7n9nDLk8Yo70hUEdePzy54LRNJRHrhQ9pulRDMbf704gxz_vh8It79npGweEcCXeldsAsXejh0DCb/s320/rps20130523_225737_724.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11312613047897009666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9223298038607970269.post-75411518220856705812013-05-08T22:37:00.000-04:002013-05-08T22:37:35.579-04:00Digging Into A New GardenNo garden fork in the shed. Really?<br />
<br />
Really.<br />
<br />
It soon became clear why. The soil is so sandy that it simply doesn't clump. A regular spade is all that's needed to dig into the root zone. Then lift out the stems, and dirt falls off the roots and rhizomes very easily. Of curse, that makes it easy for new roots and rhizomes to move back in from the edge of the yard, where there are all manner of plants that get called ground cover and are really tenacious spreaders.<br />
<br />
Much respect for the tenacious spreaders. The stones of the path down the yard will need digging under, too, or roots under them will spread into the new garden right away, before germination.<br />
<br />
The other thing about the soil being so easy to lift is that it won't be hard to mix in compost or manure an keep it aerated ... and it will be just as easy to compress again if stepped upon.<br />
<br />
And the other thing about the soil being so sandy is that it will drain well. Good in downpours, not so good in drought conditions. More organics mixed in and mulch on top will be a must to keep a vegetable garden going through the heat of the summer. <br />
<br />
So it looks like a fork will be a tool needed after all. <br />
<br />
With nothing like a real frost forecast in the next two weeks, it's getting to be time to get ready for planting. <br />
<br />
A strange thing it is, uprooting so many plants that have been good to this place, to do that.Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11312613047897009666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9223298038607970269.post-65162831205804467212013-05-07T08:33:00.000-04:002013-05-07T13:18:02.694-04:00talking in the morning<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm interested in that moment in the morning when I come downstairs for breakfast, and someone starts talking to me, and I'm not really ready for talking yet.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm not sure what happens to me in that moment.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I fee<span style="font-size: small;">l annoyed</span> and I feel like my morning is invaded.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I want Quiet as I open my day.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I feel dismayed that the person who talks doesn't 'get' this. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Depending on what is said, what energy it is said with, how long the talking takes, how awake I am, how hungry I am, how available I am, I feel more or less annoyed. Sometimes I'm not annoyed at all.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">When I am annoyed, my reaction is to give curt responses/physically turn away/physically leave the space. Sometimes I'll 'suffer through' the talking, and this is not something I want to be doing, because if I suffer through, then I breed resentment towards the talking person for 'making me' suffer through, and then I have resentment instead of closeness. I think I try to communicate non-verbally that I don't want talking right now, but this feels pretty ineffective sometimes, and it is not all that satisfying. I think, also, it might be hurtful<span style="font-size: small;"> and make the other person feel unwanted without them knowing why. </span>I find it enormously difficult to communicate verbally about my annoyances.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I suppose that's why I'm blogging, though I'm not sure how appropriate this is either.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">.........There it is.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06189901588736133179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9223298038607970269.post-76695163664387773422013-05-01T08:09:00.000-04:002013-05-01T08:18:09.531-04:003o Minutes alone in the kitchen<b id="docs-internal-guid-62b14516-5ff4-2d0b-aac1-f7d021cfe673" style="font-weight: normal;"></b><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<b id="docs-internal-guid-62b14516-5ff4-2d0b-aac1-f7d021cfe673" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It may not sound like much, but 30 minutes alone in the Kitchen in the House of Try Stuff is a lot. Yesterday, I was blessed with two circumstances: One was that I arrived home </span><b id="docs-internal-guid-62b14516-5ff4-2d0b-aac1-f7d021cfe673" style="font-weight: normal;"><b id="docs-internal-guid-62b14516-5ff4-2d0b-aac1-f7d021cfe673" style="font-weight: normal;"></b></b></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="display: inline !important; line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<b id="docs-internal-guid-62b14516-5ff4-2d0b-aac1-f7d021cfe673" style="font-weight: normal;"><b id="docs-internal-guid-62b14516-5ff4-2d0b-aac1-f7d021cfe673" style="font-weight: normal;"><b id="docs-internal-guid-62b14516-5ff4-2d0b-aac1-f7d021cfe673" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">NOT</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></b></b></b></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-62b14516-5ff4-2d0b-aac1-f7d021cfe673" style="font-weight: normal;"><b id="docs-internal-guid-62b14516-5ff4-2d0b-aac1-f7d021cfe673" style="font-weight: normal;"></b></b><br />
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-62b14516-5ff4-2d0b-aac1-f7d021cfe673" style="font-weight: normal;"><b id="docs-internal-guid-62b14516-5ff4-2d0b-aac1-f7d021cfe673" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">with </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">low blood sugar. The other is that those who were in the house floated away around the time when I went to make a meal (unrelated, I’m sure). I was in a mellow headspace (which is unusual) because my blood sugar wasn’t screechingly low, so I had time to casually think about what I wanted to put together and allow for creativity. At first, I was uninspired - it had been so long since I’d cooked from a creative headspace that I robotically began with the necessities. I settled into the process, and relished the chopping, celebrating the lack of urgency and haste around it. Then new ideas began to spring in. I began to re-gain the sense of flow that can occur in the kitchen, where the food talks and you listen. Hands become a conduit for the dance of the foods that want to come together that night. A small smile spread across my mouth, and I sensed a shy joy bubbling up within me. I began to dance a little with the food, and intuition took over. </span></b></b></div>
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-62b14516-5ff4-2d0b-aac1-f7d021cfe673" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Before long I was sitting at the table, ingesting a meal that spoke to my senses in a way that a meal I’d made hadn’t done in a long time. I was re-connecting with flavours that fire off my pleasure and digestion. The simple remembering of what a vinaigrette can do for my satisfaction is enough. 30 minutes alone in the kitchen was enough to make me joyful and reconnected. </span></b></div>
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</b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9223298038607970269.post-42042488457724010642013-04-29T21:41:00.005-04:002013-04-29T21:41:47.484-04:00Look! A post!By the Speed, on a sunny spring-y morning in March:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXRHV9oZryLZJDbbEABkiL-xOkkLiOd_K-WDBqeknA2i-erLCebdA9OReiNT83pUjCxwVU_uAAY9ahRbIFLgrDzMAuBlnI1N1O3Sn9BhbDSlHK8a_VgYn1Ek0K9qISEhj7yWC7hSrMOSM/s1600/DSCF2239.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXRHV9oZryLZJDbbEABkiL-xOkkLiOd_K-WDBqeknA2i-erLCebdA9OReiNT83pUjCxwVU_uAAY9ahRbIFLgrDzMAuBlnI1N1O3Sn9BhbDSlHK8a_VgYn1Ek0K9qISEhj7yWC7hSrMOSM/s1600/DSCF2239.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reaching</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1QWF-wSZkCxnb-8CRr45Dy3K1ZCFhAnHNGcJbdmaXR6Hfbicxpc9sb5QpDVtt8vE_whNS9WeUdIfiblUPvOggit_4Ym1jx4Po8ecsSiwlPhwer3hUhQ70X0_J34AVR9WtxkYvQ0cRdj8/s1600/DSCF2243.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1QWF-wSZkCxnb-8CRr45Dy3K1ZCFhAnHNGcJbdmaXR6Hfbicxpc9sb5QpDVtt8vE_whNS9WeUdIfiblUPvOggit_4Ym1jx4Po8ecsSiwlPhwer3hUhQ70X0_J34AVR9WtxkYvQ0cRdj8/s1600/DSCF2243.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fron</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyvJTGKbAvBnEBYKIXYfIGsvnHXI-XcAQl_ldAqwRPP6Ta2cxZaPzdoAZcrK3593eN1iTsxRFIvNz8M7wYnbPym5epmLupxI1JdHNLgsqZzGrYvk03xud7Tdzu68XbeYMx_qs7zPUHM3g/s1600/DSCF2249.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyvJTGKbAvBnEBYKIXYfIGsvnHXI-XcAQl_ldAqwRPP6Ta2cxZaPzdoAZcrK3593eN1iTsxRFIvNz8M7wYnbPym5epmLupxI1JdHNLgsqZzGrYvk03xud7Tdzu68XbeYMx_qs7zPUHM3g/s1600/DSCF2249.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sparkly pokey cone thing</td></tr>
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<br />Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06189901588736133179noreply@blogger.com1