Lughnasadh Eve

"The Autumn quarter of Lughnasadh brings the gift of maturity and is a time of physical harvest and spiritual garnering. It sees the greatest change in weather from broiling heat to dark and chilly nights. It is the time for celebrating the harvest and sees the busy preparations for winter. In the human growth cycle, Lughnasadh corresponds to the period of mature adulthood when a certain steadiness and responsibility have been established. It is a good time to celebrate the lives of all who have helped stabilize and uphold the noble values of life, of all who have exercised good judgement and steered the doubtful in the harbor of certainty, of all holy ones whose guardianship has saved us from life-disabling mistakes.

Threshold invocation for the festival of Lughnasadh (to be said at the front door of the house on the eve of Lughnasadh, July 31, in the evening.)

Lady of the land, open the door
Lord of the forest, come you in
Let there be welcome to the bountiful compassion,
Let there be welcome to the Autumn of the year.
In fruit and grain you are traveling,
In ferment and bread you will arrive.
May the blessed time of Lughnasadh
Nourish the soul of all beings,
Bringing love and healing to all hurts.
From the heights to the depths,
From the depths to the heights,
To the wounds of every soul."

From The Celtic Devotional by Caitlin Matthews

Phenomenal Woman

I just love this poem. There are parts of it that make me cringe, like I think its embarrassing or cheezy or something. But deep down, this is who I want to be. She is oozing whatever the female version of machismo is - radiant pussy power.

Phenomenal Woman

By Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.

I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size.

But when I start to tell them,

They think I’m telling lies.

I say,

It’s in the reach of my arms,

The span of my hips,

The stride of my step,

The curl of my lips.

I’m a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That’s me.

I walk into a room

Just as cool as you please,

And to a man,

The fellows stand or

Fall down on their knees.

Then they swarm around me,

A hive of honey bees.

I say,

It’s the fire in my eyes,

And the flash of my teeth,

The swing in my waist,

And the joy in my feet.

I’m a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered

What they see in me.

They try so much

But they can’t touch

My inner mystery.

When I try to show them

They say they still can’t see.

I say,

It’s in the arch of my back,

The sun of my smile,

The ride of my breasts,

The grace of my style.

I’m a woman.

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That’s me.

Now you understand

Just why my head’s not bowed.

I don’t shout or jump about

Or have to talk real loud.

When you see me passing

It ought to make you proud.

I say,

It’s in the click of my heels,

The bend of my hair,

The palm of my hand,

The need for my care.

‘Cause I’m a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That’s me.

Thank Goddess for Red Wine

I'm only 3 sips into the first glass and I can already feel the knots in my lower back unwinding. I've been priding myself lately on the lack of chronic pain in my back thanks to better nutrition and regular exercise. I went to the chiropractor today for a routine adjustment and both my neck and lower back cracked so loud I think they heard it in the next state.

I had an almost 2 hour drive home then and I could feel the muscles all along my spine stiffening up. When I walked in the door and could barely climb the stairs I knew my well-laid plans of digging out rose beds in the garden had gone to hell in a hand-basket.

An hour and three Advil later I still couldn't move much so I decided to divulge in the oldest medicine in the world. Alcohol. I have 2 extra kids over so decided I better not break out the Jack Daniels that's in the cupboard for when my father-in-law visits. Thank goddess I picked up a lone bottle of California Red the last time I was at Costco. The only reason I bought it at the time was that I loved the name "Menage a Trois" from Folie A Deux Winery in Napa. (Add in the accent marks where appropriate.)  Thankfully I tend to be intrigued by anything naughty that I can actually take home without raising any eyebrows.

The generous glass I poured is almost gone now and all the muscles from my rib cage down are relaxing in that heavy, achey, it-hurts-so-good sort of way. It'll take more than one glass to get my shoulders to unknot.

Its hard for me to believe that I use to not like red wine. It was too acidic and bitey for my immature taste buds. Strangely enough, when I started the 2nd level of the Holosync Meditation program, my taste buds grew up almost overnight. About 2 weeks into the new level I tried to drink my favorite sweet dessert reisling and about gagged on it. I tried someone else's Cabernet and had one of those almost out of body experiences where your taste buds tingle and your whole body knows that was exactly what it wanted.

First sip of glass #2 - the achey trying-to-relax feeling has hit my shoulders.

This wine is a blend of Zinfandel, Merlot and Cabernet - whenever I drink Merlot I giggle. In fact, I rarely drink Merlot on purpose, not because I have any legitimate complaints with it, but because of the scene in the movie "Sideways" where the Pinot Noir snob refuses to go into the restaurant, declaring, "I'm not drinking any fucking Merlot!"

I'm an alcohol lightweight and if I continue this through the next glass we'll experience the blog version of drunk dialing. But, I'll leave you with the wonderful description on the front of the bottle:

"Take a walk on the wild side and explore the pleasures of our Menage a Trois. Surrender to the seduction of dark, rich berry with a hint of pepper, a lush lingering finish leaving you begging for more....."

If you're going to self-medicate, you might as well do it on the wild side....My shoulders are feeling much better thank you.

Have the Reddest Day Ever!

In Grace,

Kell

Cracked Pots

Today a friend and I visited a beautiful garden art fair called Cracked Pots where all of the artwork was made from at least 75% recycled material. We were enchanted. There were fairies on trellises and dragons and robots made from old tools and scrap metal. Pathways of china plate flowers and goddesses in various shapes and forms.

We wandered the shady paths surrounded by creatures that had sprung to life at the hands of creators who had magically taken the cast-offs of society and brought forth the beauty that lay within.

 We were amazed at the ingenuity and creativity of the artists. Not just their insight to see the unseen within, but their know-how to put this and that together in exactly the right way.

As usual, I can't go anywhere or do anything without looking for the "signs" and as I flipped through my pictures on the computer this evening I thought about how we make so many decisions in life that change the course of destiny. Choices that we didn't even know we were making at the time, or perhaps didn't realize was a choice because we didn't know there were other options. And then we reach a certain place or a certain age or a certain set of circumstances and we wish we could change things. Things that have come into existence because we set it into motion a bzillion years ago.

And while there may be some things you can change now, patterns you can break, new ways of being you can adopt, you can't ever undo who you are and what has happened because of those choices. But walking around that garden today, seeing all those pieces of life recycled, redesigned, reused into something completely different and infinitely bigger than the sum of it's parts - it gives me hope that creating a life is like that too.

You can be the beautiful You you wish you were by recycling and combining the various bits and pieces into something that is incredibly cooler than the individual pieces were before. You can wish that you could completely get rid of the ugly stuff - just throw it away - but the truth is it doesn't go away, its part of who you are and if you ignore it just sits in a great spiritual landfill and turns your life into a wasteland. But if you decide to love and forgive and accept and move forward, you can combine all those pieces of your soul into whatever it is that you see within.

You can be the artist who sees the beauty within the cast offs and creates something that is infinitely bigger, stronger, better, more whole and beautiful than the sum of its parts. Moving forward doesn't necessarily mean leaving pieces of yourself behind, it just means you're repurposing them. Wow. There's a lot of Grace there.

This was an incredibly Red day.  Here was one of our favorites - a beautiful goddess form, next to one of her creators.

We had the Reddest Day Ever - hope you do too!

In Grace,

Kell

Friday night blahs......

I'm sitting out here on my back deck - the very same deck where I've been experimenting with extreme sunbathing - the evening is cool, my ancient water fountain is gurgling and the bamboo wind chime my dad made last year is softly clickity-clacking. I'm sipping iced Crown Chakra tea from ShamanShack and smelling the sweet Basil and lavender in the pots next to my table. Somewhere nearby someone is practicing the electric blues guitar. Incredibly idyllic, perfectly peaceful.

I am so antsy and bored I can hardly stand to be with myself.

I had another realization this week - not a big huge earth shattering one, but a little soul nagging one. I have lived here in the new town for 8 months, I'm settled in, I'm happy. I have all the time in the world and I'm truly living in ways that I had previously longed for. I feel myself growing on the inside almost as fast as I can see my 13 year old son growing on the outside.

Here's the BUT (and its not a but that has been residing underneath all along, its a but that I seem to be emerging into), I am so freaking lonely. I don't know anyone here. I sit and chit chat with other baseball parents at games and I wave at my friendly neighbor when she drives by. But, I spend more time with my son's friends than I do their parents. I make a point to try to stay in touch with old friends back in the valley, but here in the metro I have up to this point concentrated on me. I don't regret this. I think its been good, what I need. But, I'm kind of waking up to the fact that part of having experiences is sharing them - and sometimes I'm braver about having the experiences if there's someone else pushing, pulling or egging me on.

So here I sit on a Friday night. All is serene, quiet and sweet. I can absolutely appreciate that and revel in it and know that it is what I wanted. It has not been in my family's culture to party or entertain or otherwise do anything very interesting on Friday nights and now I'm wishing it was. It's not even a matter of being brave enough to try something new - the concept is so foreign to me that I don't even know how to start.

I feel I have dipped my toe into this whole seeking out pleasure business and now here is a whole component that I hadn't counted on finding missing. I need people. I need social-ness.

I'm happy to say though that I'm not sitting here feeling sorry for myself. It's more like I'm sitting off to the side looking at my emotions and going, "well, that's interesting, I didn't see that one coming." I've always thought of me as so self-contained. Not so much.

Anyway, I can tell this is one of those nudges that should be acted upon, but am not sure how. Lean into it. Ask for Grace. Say, "okay I'm ready." The nudges never come without the accompanying what, where, when, why and hows - even if I can't see them at first. Be in love with the idea that this is Red also.

In Grace,

Kell

Deva Weekend

It’s the Monday after the best weekend I’ve had in a while. All three of the men in my life packed up and left for Grandma’s on Friday morning and I was single until Sunday evening.
I practiced a lot of doing as well as being. Both felt really good.

I read for hours. I went to see Eclipse at the theater all by myself. I played in the garden. I completely organized the tools in my my new work area in the garage. Then, I decorated that area so it looks like a Deva works there, not a gray haired man with a tool belt. I moved my entire “altar” out to that space. (It had been in a room of the house I hardly ever go in because its full of boy stuff.)

I draped towels and blankets over all the railings on the back deck and laid in the sun naked. (Some pilot in a low-flying small aircraft got a show, but nothing I could do about that.) A girlfriend took me to Wilf’s where I sat in a high-backed red chair and listened to an amazing Sinatra singer and remembered that I like Jazz. We had Bananas Foster and learned that dessert is not always about chocolate. I got out the watercolor paints from an art class I took ages ago and played with them. I worked on the 2 antique wooden ironing boards that I’m going to make pretty and hang in my living room. Besides the drink and dessert on Friday, I ate completely green, raw and whole.

Basically, I remembered what it was like to be just me and did as many of the things I like to do without traveling too far or spending too much money.

It was the Reddest weekend ever.

In Grace,

Kell