Life lessons and hurt feelings.....

I love that the universe throws a reminder back in my face when I start to slip into old habits. I wish that I would listen more carefully so that the reminder doesn't have to come with hurt feelings in order to get my attention.

This morning my husband and I were joking around about how the other needed to "get a hobby." This was mainly an acknowledgment that we have very different interests and what each of us considers fun doesn't necessarily qualify as a real hobby to the other. But the laughing turned to resentment pretty quickly when he commented that at least he actively pursues his hobbies on a regular basis while I go weeks without turning to mine. Indeed, on closer review it would be me who appears to have no hobbies most of the time.

I got angry at the implication that I do this by choice. Couldn't he see that I don't participate in my passions regularly because I'm making sure everyone else gets to participate in theirs? That I'm the go-to person who is expected to drop what I'm doing to meet everyone else' needs? I let him have it; he really got an earful.

But as soon as he walked out the door I realized with a rush of gratitude that SHE had just used my left-brained, vastly un-woo woo husband to deliver a not so gentle reminder that I was letting the most important things slide.  I haven't scheduled and followed through on a Deva adventure for a couple of weeks. I also haven't worked on my Vision book or picked up a paint brush for a long time.  The flowers on my dining room table are two weeks old and completely dried up and dead.

And once again, it is not anyone else' fault that I help maintain a family culture, which I helped to build in the first place, that does not support my needs and wants as a human being and a woman. So, I'm refocusing. I'm taking a moment to check my gut and feel what I need for me. Pleasure is power tool and I haven't opened my tool box in too long.

I'll let you know what I come up with and how I follow through.

BTW, before he walked out the door, my guy smiled sheepishly and said, "I like being with you, does that count as a hobby?" Everybody say "AAhhhh....."

Have the Reddest Day Ever,

In Grace,

Kell

Honoring the Temple/Cleaning Up the Instrument

On both my husband's and my sides of the family, social time means eating time. Back at the beginning of this month I let all of my intentions fly out the door with a weekend that was truly an experiment in stuffing my face. I was miserable physically, mentally, emotionally for a full week. As I lay on the couch in pain and cursing the situation that put me in this gross state, I had an aha!/duh! moment of realizing that there was no one else to blame. I had done this to myself. It was not excusable to say that my family equates food with fun, that I was raised with a mentality of if you paid for it you eat it all, and that if I don't eat cake on someone's birthday, it will hurt their feelings.  This Deva journey is about living life on my terms, getting the last drop of juiciness out of every moment, and being the absolute best me possible.  So, how can I continue letting something as basic as eating be controlled by what other people think?

Over the last 6 - 9 months I've been reading a lot, experimenting a lot, and being very interested in the raw food lifestyle, in going green, in putting nutrition above all else. I've become a huge fan and follower of David Wolfe and am using his Longevity Now Program as a basic guide. But as Bob Doyle says, there's a big difference between being interested in something and being committed to it. I'm not sure I'm there yet. Right now I'm on day 3 of a 3-day raw/green trial and I feel so good I might extend it to 5 days...........we'll see.

The thing is, I've been on this spiritual journey 9 years or so, ever since my friend Antigone handed me a copy of Cheryl Richardson's Stand Up For Your Life, and while I can look back over everything I've accomplished, both in the physical and spiritual realms and know that I'm barely the same person I was then - it was hard! It took a long time. And I can honestly say that I have grown more since I drank my first raw chocolate smoothie and choked down my first glass of Vitamineral Green (which btw I love now!) 9 months ago than I had in the previous 8 years. It feels like maybe that's not a coincidence.

There's a quote by Gloria Anzaldua that says something to the effect of When you're in a downward spiral, you only have to change one thing to make it stop. There's an entire industry of self-help/law of attraction experts telling us how to stop the negative spiral of thoughts and emotions that lead to self-sabotage and the inability to reach our potential - but it seems to me that most of them are leaving out the mind-body connection from their formulas. If my body feels gross and disgusting (and I'm not talking about my emotional response to how my body looks compared to how I think its suppose to look.), if it's sick and tired and full of chemicals and gmo's and simply doesn't feel good, how am I suppose to rise above how I physically feel and choose only the good emotional/mental thoughts and feelings?  What if the better, faster, more efficient way to break the spiral is to change something physical? Like what I put in my mouth.

So many traditions talk about my body being a temple, but as I've learned more about feminine traditions and earth based systems of thought, I've come to think of my body not only as the house of goddess, but as an instrument, a tool that I use to connect to her, to my Self. My body is how I receive messages from Source in the form of emotions and feelings and intuition and a sense of "knowing." When I have a thought or an emotion, as discussed by the above mentioned self-helpers, I physically feel it somewhere in my body. Those physical feelings are how I know I'm doing what is right for me - or not. And if my instrument is not in peak health, then my messages from Source will at best be garbled, at worst I won't hear them at all.

A Deva friend recently commented that she couldn't imagine life without bread and pasta, and I understand that food is supposed to be fun and joyful and taste good. And I didn't start this nutritional journey by taking things out, I started by adding things in - but here's the thing: I remember what my life was like before that first raw chocolate smoothie - when I ate a lot of bread and pasta - and I wasn't very happy. What if the things that I cling to (like birthday cake and giant Philly-Cheese Steaks on lovely bread rolls and the buttery garlic French bread) in the name of enjoying life are the very things which keep me from truly experiencing what if feels like to feel good? What if truly feeling good is something more than I can even imagine from where I'm at right now and the thing standing between me and it is a plate of spaghetti with white sauce? What if the key to having the positive thoughts and emotions that will attract whatever I decide I want is having a body that is not clogged with sugars and refined carbs and foods that are so processed and cooked that there is no nutritive value left in them? What if the thing keeping me from a full-on direct experience of Goddess is the broken instrument through which she speaks to me?

I just got off the phone with raw nutrition counselor Daphne Cohn and she told me take it slow, continue adding good things in, and allow a lot of grace and permission for whatever happens. I'm not sure I'm capable right now of never eating another cooked thing, especially bread and pasta!, but I am ready to think about it some more. I'm ready to determine where I am on the scale of interested and committed and to put some systems into place to support that. I'm ready to let my family be where they are separate from where I am and know that just as I don't have to let their opinion affect what I put in my mouth, they don't have to let mine affect what they put in theirs.

Food for thought, as they say. Please know I'm not preachin', I'm mullin' it over out loud.

Have the Reddest Day Ever!

In Grace,

Kell

Fairy Tale Castles and Mighty Big Buckets

I have this kind of ongoing memory of my father coming home from work every six weeks or so with the Red Drop sticker on his lapel from the American Red Cross - it always said "Be nice to me, I gave blood today!" My father accumulated so many lapel pins for however many bzillions of gallons he donated in his lifetime. My dad can't give blood anymore - even though his cancer has been in remission for years - once you have cancer, they don't want your blood anymore.

I kind of took on this job for him - although honestly I haven't been as dedicated to it since our move. It really bugs me when people grimace and say they can't give blood because they hate needles or it makes them sick. I always think those people should have to wear a bracelet indicating their lack of bravery. When they're in a car accident or have some horrible blood disorder they shouldn't be allowed access to the nation's volunteer blood supply. Honestly, someone else has to die because you're afraid of a little poke?

I realize I'm being pretty hard core, maybe its because I give blood more in honor of my dad than for the person who will someday receive it. But, if its not my job, then whose is it?

Last year, my father was one of the survivor presenters at the Relay For Life in his area. He talked about how when he first started his treatments the technology was very cutting edge and the only reason the Oregon Health Science University Hospital had access to this treatment was that they had purchased equipment with dollars from the Relay for Life events throughout the state.

This year, my whole family is participating in a Relay in our new area. We will stay up all night, and our team will have at least one representative walking for 24 hours. Because cancer doesn't sleep.

The theme is "A Fairy Tale Ending" so we're coming up with costumes and I am single handedly turning our team's open sided tent into a cardboard fairy tale castle. My husband asked me if I was taking on too much but I could tell by the giggle in the back of my throat and the flutter at the base of my chest that this is what I'm supposed to be doing right now.

I had recently decided that in addition to experiencing new places, things, ideas, etc. I need to start experiencing new people - no sooner had I made note of this conscious decision than this opportunity to join ranks with a team of dedicated cancer fighters made itself available. I'm getting to meet some new people and get a huge creative project thrown in just for fun!

AND - this is what being a Deva is all about - serving humanity in support of a greater cause. You just know its a good fit when consciously serving is also fun and feels good!  Check out my page for the Relay, if you're able, support my cause or consider joining a team in your area. Giving from a place of gratitude for our many blessings raises our endorphin levels and that equals Pleasure and we're learning what an enormous power tool that is!

My conscious is now telling me to track down my local Red Cross and find out when the soonest blood drive is....I was going to say I have some big shoes to fill, but in this case, I guess they're some pretty big buckets!

Have the Reddest Day Ever!

In Grace,

Kell

Celebrating Celtic Beltane with my inner Kali

Happy Beltane! It's May Day! The Celtic Pagans celebrated the arrival of the summer months which represent the gift of increased confidence and vitality, and increased social times as the weather grows nicer. It is the time for celebrating our essential eros, our blood surging in our veins, and the joys of youthfulness. In the human growth cycle it represents adolescence and young adulthood when the blood is hot and thinking is impestuous. When we learn the most by being bold and making lots of mistakes.

I have a Celtic Devotional by Caitlin Matthews in which she has song for Beltane:
     "I am the calm, I am the quickening
          I am the intoxication and the force,
     I am the silence, I am the singer,
          I am the stallion galloping to its source.
     I am the bright pavilion and the feasting,
          I am the wedding couple and the bed,
     I am the morning chorus and the heartbeat,
          I am the goal to which all paths are lead."

Feel the sun on your face today. Even if its shining through the clouds - know that summer is on its way and be glad! Do something joyful and impestuous for your self or someone else. Let your heart dance. Let your body dance! Know that the seasons return to us every year to remind us that we are constantly renewed, that we can grow older without growing old, that it is never too late to feel young.

On another warm, red note - I re-read the Vagina Monologues by Eve Ensler the other day. This was the V-Day edition with a forward by Gloria Steinham. I learned something from the forward that I then googled and learned a little more about.  The Great Mother Goddess of India - Kali, who represents both birth and mother love as well as destruction and mother rage has a secondary title, Cunti, which represents her creative force, her source of power, her Self-ness, the very essence of who she is. This was the name and form she was worshiped as in Tantrism, whose central tenet is that man reaches spiritual fulfillment through sexual and emotional union with woman's superior energy.  Can you guess which horrific, filthy, degrading word come from this name for God to describe a woman's genitals, and by default any woman who was not acting in a way in which men thought was appropriate?

This makes me laugh because no matter how hard patriarchy tries, it absolutely cannot kill the goddess within. It makes me sad because it succeeded for centuries to degrade and humiliate women with the very word that should have told them how beautiful and powerful they are. So, on this first day of the Celtic summer season, I'm going to celebrate my inner Indian goddess by being a total cunt. Not a mean-spirited, bitchy, selfish woman but one who knows she is beautiful and powerful. Today I exercise my mother love and creativity for my self, my family and the whole world. 

Have the Reddest Day Ever,

In Grace,

Kell

Red Wine and WWE

I’m sitting here at my dining room table with walls freshly painted the color of “new mown hay.” There’s a glass of Our Daily Red organic wine and a candle burning in an antique red glass holder. Athena the black & white furry goddess is curled up on the table next to my laptop, the dishwasher is humming behind me in the kitchen, the rain is pattering on the wooden deck and amazingly enough, at 8:02 pm its still light enough for me to see the cat on my neighbors back deck. Before anyone turns too green with envy, the tv is also blasting World Wrestling Federations’ Monday Night Raw.

I’m trying hard not to analyze why I haven’t blogged in a couple of weeks. Truth is, I don’t have anything in particular that I can point to and say “I did that,” but the past couple of weeks have been absolutely delicious. I’m delving into “Mama Gena’s School of Womanly Arts,” falling in love with myself, and its been so much fun.

I mentioned the Power of Pussy a while back and promised to elaborate once I knew more about it. I hope that word doesn’t offend anyone. Not because I want to make it through life without offending anyone, but because its an amazing word and my greatest wish is that everyone woman in the world could begin to understand the power of it. Goddess has tits and pussy, so who am I to take a moral stance that denies my self the beauty of those particular body parts?

Way back when, I read the book Journey to Avalon by Jean Shinoda Bolen. It’s the story of a personal goddess quest she took in the British Isles. On the cover page of every chapter was an image of the vesicas pisces that appears on the cover of the chalice well in Glastonbury England. From that time on, I have taken that symbol as my own talisman. I wear a silver pendant of it almost every single day.  The Graceful Deva image that is new to this site uses that symbol (only in red!).

The center part of the symbol, where the two circles representing all that is physical and all that is spiritual intersect, is the flash point of all creation. It is where thought becomes matter, where the unmanifest becomes manifest. It is the womb of God. It is, in fact, Divine Pussy.

I love this. It makes me laugh and cry at the same time.

There’s an exercise in Mama Gena’s Lesson 5, “The Womanly Art of Flirtation.” It goes like this:

            Do a little Bitte et chat. Go out there in the world, pick a totally safe circumstance like the man in the glass booth at the subway station, and when you ask for directions, think of your own delicious body. Notice how it makes you feel. Notice how he responds. When you walk into a restaurant, ask your boss for a raise, call the phone company – think pleasurable thoughts about your crotch. Notice your response and the response of your “victim.”

Does this sound ridiculous? It felt ridiculous the first couple of time I practiced it. But then I began to notice something. It was fun! It felt like a funny little secret I had that no one knew about. Sometimes I couldn’t help but almost giggle out loud. Then I began to notice something else – everyone else seemed to enjoy me at these times too! The boring surly guy at the post office smiled and asked me how my day was! The gal at the coffee shop gave me free coffee! My roomie at the office came in spontaneously and gave me a shoulder massage! The cop who pulled me over when my headlight was burned out only gave me a warning instead of a ticket! The adorable barista (baristo?) that I’m not so secretly in crush with started smiling back! My husband spontaneously mowed the lawn AND got the weedeater running, then trimmed the edges of the whole yard! My dog stayed right by my side without a leash and watched a couple of other pooches walk past on the sidewalk! Excuse my overuse of exclamation marks but what Mama Gena has given me is the key to being a Deva!

The point is that when I choose to feel good, when I choose my own pleasure over anything and everything else, something magical happens. I don’t know if I can put it into words except to say that suddenly I know I’m happy. And more importantly, I know I’m happy because I made me happy and that feels like true power.

So, needless to say, I’ve been having fun having fun the past couple of weeks and the days have just flown by. I’ve been productive and efficient and the annoying chores like making sandwiches at 7:00 a.m and scooping kitty litter 3 times a day have somehow become more enjoyable.

I dare you to try this flirting exercise. More than once. It will turn you into the goddess that you forgot you are. The Dahlai Lama recently said that western women will save the world – I absolutely believe that we will do this by starting revolutions in our own lives – and the biggest tool in my arsenal is definitely the power of my own pussy.

Tulips and Make Believe...

When we were little my sister and I would involve ourselves in the most intricate games of make believe. We had whole soap opera type worlds with plot twists, ongoing character development, and moral object lessons. I was thinking about some of the scenarios we would play out and remembered watching my own kids do the same sort of thing a few years ago – it always seems so funny to be on the outside of this world of pretend as you watch someone move so fluidly between the role of actor and director. The whole “now you say such and such” and the person says it, and immediately directs, “and you throw that thing over there” and the other one instantly moves back into character and throws the object indicated.

But, as I thought about it, I actually remembered what it was like to be inside the make-believe world. When you’re on the inside, you’re not an actor carrying out a role, you’re actually being the character. So, the roles you move so quickly between are not of actor and director, but more like character and creator. The minute I had this thought, (which I really shouldn’t have had to begin with since I was meditating at the time and wasn’t suppose to be thinking at all) I got shivers. It was such a cool analogy of how we make our own lives happen. Most of the time we carry on in “character” mode, taking what life hands us, swerving through the curves, and taking the punches. Every once in a while we get a glimpse of who we really are, how powerful we can be, and we take back the reigns of our lives, moving into the “creator” role. In this role we make decisive changes, visualize our selves the way we want to be, and see the bigger picture where every nuance of our lives has purpose and meaning.

Now, I don’t want to bash myself or anyone over the head and say we shoulda, woulda, coulda always live in creator mode. I’m only pointing out the interesting-ness about it. The realization that even when I’m on auto pilot, there’s a person behind the scenes, making up the story line and shouting directions through the megaphone and that person is, well, me. I am creator and character, actor and director, and every day I flow so fluidly in and out of these roles that I don’t even notice.

Noticing is all it takes, I think. There’s some comfort in knowing that when something “bad” happens, it was me who chose for it to happen because it will catapult something else into existence further into the plot line. And heaven knows I’m not going to hurt my lead character too bad when that character is me. And when I really “get” that I’m the one making up the story, I the character can consciously choose to sit in the creator’s seat and use those tools and devices that bring me whatever it is that I want. That is what “living on purpose” is to me – simultaneously being the person in the story, and the person making it up from the sidelines.

Five days a week I receive a “Note From the Universe” email. This is the one I received the same day I was remembering my childhood imaginings and thinking these deep thoughts.
“Can you imagine an astral plane somewhere "out there," Kelly, where
very old souls rendezvous to practice and perfect their most highly developed
manifestation techniques? A members-only kind of place, where whatever
they think about comes to life in the most vivid colors and sounds, and as
the most intricate plots and circumstances? Where the only limits that exist
lie in their ability to imagine what they've never before imagined, and to move
with it in anticipation of its "physical" expression?

And best of all, being astral, no harm can come to them; they're completely
untouchable. Nothing is real, yet everything matters. And there can be infinite
gains in terms of insight and fun, yet no losses since everything is illusory.
Actually, the worst thing that can happen is that they temporarily become so
entranced by their creations that they completely forget who they are, where they
are, and how powerful they really are....

Yep, it's exactly like this astral plane.

Tallyho,
The Universe”

Today I attended the Wooden Shoe Tulip Farm’s 25th Anniversary Tulip Festival. It was one of those things I have wanted to go to all my life and just haven’t ever gone because no one else wanted to go with me. Now that I’m a Deva, I said “Screw the Naysayers!” and went solo. There is nothing like acre after acre of flowers to make you realize life is amazing and cool and beautiful. Isn’t it wonderful that first we get daffodils and then tulips, and then the rhododendrons and azaleas, and then the lilacs, and then the summer annuals kick in, and then the roses bloom and in late summer we get dahlias, then gladiolus and lavender? If we got them all together all at once we wouldn’t notice their individual incredible-ness.

My little camera doesn’t do it justice, but check out the link above for professional photos. You know, there are a million different varieties and colors, but I am always drawn back to the red ones. I even amazed myself that way today. I could appreciate the pink and orange and purple ones, but the Red ones sang to me and waved their heads at me and said “Look, we are the same you and I!”

Taking those few beautiful hours to myself gave me new energy and vibrance. I’m immersed once again in another huge creative project for 7th grade social studies. I’m learning more about medieval times and the crusades than I ever thought possible just by being on board for creative oversight. A while ago, Bailey told me “Mom, if everyone knew how smart you are, they would be so intimidated.” I swooned. Probably what he intended.

Have the Reddest Day Ever!

In Grace,

Kell

Red in small doses.....

I'm loving that I can change the background of the blog to correspond with my current post!

Just yesterday I was having a conversation with a girlfriend about how the perfect color of lipstick does not exist anywhere in the cosmetic world. To find the just right shade I have to apply lip liner, apply lipstick, blot, apply gloss, blot.

For years I've stuck with fairly light brown neutral lips, but with all the lovely redness coming into my life lately I've decided that branching out into more vibrant lips may be just the thing for me. (My mother will be thrilled to hear this as the most common words out of her mouth to me are "You need to put on some lipstick!"

Anyway, the other day (on my birthday) I was perusing the makeup aisles at Target and ended purchasing a "berry queen" bright red lipstick that looked gorgeous in the tube. Not so gorgeous on me though. Again, I found myself toning things down with brown liner and gold gloss.

This morning, I was finally cleaning up some of the Easter/Birthday mess on my dining room table and unpacked a box that my sister had given me. Nestled inside under the beautiful mugs and mangosteen tea was a little box of Yes to Carrots lip tints and glosses! OMGoddess! Two brown colors and two bright red ones! Guess what? They're all perfect - alone or combined or whatever the heck I feel like.

The universe conspires in our favor in big and small ways. My universe is obviously in favor of luscious shiny red Deva lips!

Having the Reddest Day Ever! Hope you are too.

In Grace,

Kell