It is time

I have come to a realization.  I spend a lot of time wading around in the sad places of my soul.  Yes, I have many sad places.  But, I have infinitely more (sometimes hidden) appreciative and joyful places.  I am a complex woman.  Childlike in nature, yet deeply rooted in a contemplative mindset where I dwell among the old beings of trees and rivers whose dusty and echoing conversations consist of lessons learned through an eternal life.  Deeply rooted yes, but also high reaching am I.  Soaring, seeking, finding, accepting.  Learning, doing, being, watching.

I think it is time for me to let go of the sadness and the anxiety that seem to be tied tightly by my side.  I think it is time to tap into my inherent wisdom and share the goodness of my being with those around me.  Every day, I am discovering more about who I am, and I think it's time to start living who I am instead of who I'm not.  I have spent enough time being who I'm not, and now I am ready to let go of that.  I feel nervous, and scared, and I feel like I can't let go of someone I've been for so many years.  That nervousness shows me that it is truly time.  Time to evolve!

The dancing lights

I saw something tonight that I haven't seen since I was a wee girl of about 5 or 6.  The Northern Lights.  Spectral and ethereal, the lights shot their rays up into the infinity that surrounds us.  Pale green and faint as an airy kiss upon a cheek they brought a transitory glow that the sky rarely experiences.  Then as the night bent a little more toward the top of the hour, the lights began to dance and pulse and sway through the sky sending their energy across the blanket of stars straight above my head  As I looked straight up, entranced, I felt light and airy myself.  Like I could jump up into the heavenly expanse and swirl my own dance across eternity.  Amidst the dance, a shooting star lent its grace to my eyes and my heart, adding its own beauty to the nighttime reminder that there is beauty yet in the world

Oh that money

For the first time in my life, I am financially stressed.  I used to think I was, back when I lived at home with my parents (rent and utility free) and worked as a server that paid me about $800/month.  I would worry and over-think about buying something that cost $100 or more, and then buy it, and then repeat that about once a week.  I liked to buy things that I didn't need, but wanted oh so bad.  And then I went to Michigan State for my undergraduate work.  I took out about $20,000 a year for tuition and living expenses, then had a menial little job as an usher at the Wharton Center to pay for gas and...you guessed it, more expensive things (Banana Republic was my favorite place to shop).  But, I still believed myself to be under financial stress.

Now, I am a grad student at Michigan Tech.  I make $1000/month.  $900 is allotted for rent, utilities, credit card bills, phone bill, food, and gas.  The other $100 goes towards paying off other various loans I have accrued.  For the first time in my working life, every single dollar is accounted for.  (See my budget ideas below).  I get excited when I can put $25 into my savings account (I have $75 now, woot woot!).  The thing that I keep pushing out of my mind is what is going to happen if something major comes up.  Like, oh, the new clutch and tires I'll have to put on my car before winter comes, or say, trips home (which costs $80 round-trip).

While this money stuff worries me to bits, I am glad that I am under this stress.  I know that in the long run, it may teach me financial knowledge.  It may teach me how to really be frugal and spend wisely.  If all of a sudden I were to come across a few extra hundred dollars, I believe I would put it toward my bills rather than adopt a false sense of security and decide to buy some new books.  I know that this will all come to fruition in about two years when I graduate, but for right now it is nearly unbearable.  I have to winterize my house, which is going to cost money that I don't have!  In addition, winter is coming, which means that heating costs will shoot up, which is going to cost money that I don't have!   I know my roommate would object to keeping the house just above sub-zero temps.  I would object to that too.  But, I need to figure out something, hopefully before I dig myself into too deep a financial grave.  Now, I'm really not complaining about this (really!).  I consider it a blessing that I know what it's like to have to spend consciously, because so few people do it, and only then it's usually out of necessity rather than desire.  I would choose to do it out of desire.

Here's a list of what I'm doing to budget as wisely as possible:

1.  Envelope system- a certain amount is allotted to groceries and entertainment.  If I run out of money, I don't use my card.

2.  I buy food staples like brown rice pasta, flour, sugar, and dry beans in bulk.  Then I buy a lot of fresh veggies.  If I have extra cash, I'll stock up on a few canned or frozen veggies and beans (I found a great organic/ GMO-free source for frozen veg) to use when I need something quick.

3.  I cook from scratch and make meals that last me a few days and are easy to take in to school for lunch- soups and stir fry are great!

4.  I've started making my own toothpaste.  Baking soda, ground salt, and peppermint extract.  Not sure how I feel about it yet, but I also don't like $7 toothpaste!

5.  I am going to start paying at least $10 more than the minimum on my credit card statements to try to get a little shaved off on the balance, rather than just paying the interest.  Hopefully this will get my bills down a little by the time I am graduated so I can focus on other things.

So far, I'm loving the envelope system.  I no longer go to the store and pick up little extras that I don't really need.  It is relieving some anxiety because when I check out, I don't feel so overwhelmed at the cost because I have cash allotted for everything I purchased. Financial freedom, by use of a budget system, is looking like a stronger stress reducer than I thought it could be.

Yogi Tea quote

I opened a pouch of Yogi Tea Detox, and the little wisdom tag said, "Live for something higher, bigger and better than you."  And I thought, but there IS nothing higher, bigger and better than me.  If there was something bigger and higher than me, it would only be perceived, for I am all that I know on this earth, and only seek to be bigger, higher and better myself each day.  

Women's Circle

Last night, I realized that my Women's Circle has managed to become what it is I need it to become.  I hoped that when I created it, it would work out to be what everyone involved needed, and it looks like it has.  I started out inviting several girls over a few Sundays ago (maybe a month  and a half ago now?) and after a few times with no one showing up, one time when 6 joyful, laughing women showed up, and now it appears that there is just 3 of us needing this group.

The reason I started this Women's Circle was because I know it's important for women to have a place to go where they can let loose and really talk to one another in a place of full confidence and trust; a place of non-judgment and true friendship.  I wanted it to be a time where we could let go of the stress of the week and let out our creativity, joys, sorrows, frustrations, etc.  Last week, I came up with the idea of making a book of love to ourselves. I pull myself down a lot by focusing on what I'm not- not good enough, smart enough, etc. So, I figured it was time to focus on the good.  So, after getting a creative idea started by watching a video on how to make a book of senses, I figured a book of love was more needed.  So, for each day of a month, we will write down something we notice about ourselves that we just LOVE.  We each made our own artistic books, now we just need to write in them.

I am so grateful for the opportunity to have friendship like I have with these women. They are women I can truly connect with and grow with.

compassion for this world

I watched a movie today that tore my heart to pieces.  It's called The Boy in the Striped Pajamas.  I won't divulge any information about it, but I will tell you that it is beautiful and poignant, and incredibly moving.  I can honestly say that I have never been as strongly affected by a movie as I have by this one.  If you watched it, I know it wouldn't affect you in the same way as it did me, but I don't think anyone could watch this movie and not feel stirrings within their heart.


As I sat there at the end, tears falling down my face and a heart full of emotion, it really hit me (again, as I've come to this realization before) that I have to open up to the sorrow I feel regarding the human race.  I have yet to heal the pain I have for our history, and I have yet to find compassion for our species.  One can't possibly know what it's like to live a life other than his or her own, and that makes it too easy to forget, or not realize, the full spectrum of actions that are being committed and have been committed in the past.  It is important to open up to the joys and the love, yes, but it is also (and possibly more so) important to open up to the sorrows and the struggles of this world.  To have forgiveness in your heart not only for yourself but for all beings as a whole.  If you cannot have forgiveness and love in your heart for all of life, you cannot truly be open to the beauty that this world really is, and you cannot truly begin to comprehend what it really means to be human.  


Another movie that I watched recently, Magnolia, was another one that tore me to the core of my heart.  For different reasons as well as similar ones as The Boy in the Striped Pajamas.  I'm not sure I can recommend this movie because in  my opinion it was not well done.  But, it did give a lot to awaken to and think about.  


As I travel the mountains of my life, I come to a broader perspective and am greeted by so many artifacts that allow my eyes to open and my heart to expand.  I pray that I can recognize these artifacts for the teachers they are and that I can receive them ponder them with openness and compassion.  

Still there is sorrow although I seek joy

Leaves drop, filling my vision.  Amber and scarlet fire to light my way.  They surround me, reflecting in my eyes and then my heart, burning off the fog and the clouds.  The last few thoughts of worry and fear meander off, leaving tracks deep in the soil of my heart.  Still, my soul aches.

Since when did living on this beautiful earth become so difficult for a woman such as myself?  How long will I carry the weight of my grandmother's and great-grandmother's weariness?  How can I learn to hold all I am within the compassion of the universe, and God, and myself?  This period of deep unrest is wearing away at my being.  The nerves in my brain and body are frayed and stressed.  I proclaim myself to be a student of the universe, but instead I've bound myself to the shackles of the material- money, studies, food.  How can I feed my soul when my wings are clipped and I feel unable to fly to the unseen place of soul food- true food upon which I feed my spirit, where the Wild Woman within me can replenish her stores of instinct and wisdom and longing for life? Instead of flying up to this place of nourishment, I find myself huddled in my bed at 4 am, chained to my feelings of anxiety and self-doubt.  Tears for humanity, for women gone unappreciated and disrespected, for love and truth gone unseen and unspoken wash down my face and body, emptying me completely.  It is time for me to replace those tears of sorrow with tears of joy, but how can this happen when I feel drained?  I know it is time for the phoenix of my being to rise up, to replenish the faith within me, but any step I take seems to make the top of the mountain that much further away- I think I am going forward, but is it all a mirage?  Am I retreating rather than leaping forth as I believe?

Dangerous life

I feel…raw.  I feel…small.  I feel…insignificant.  My words appear to be meaningless mumbles.  The morning is here, but a fog blocks my sight.

I have come to realize how brutally tough it is to be a human in this world.  I feel that it is too hard at times to progress any further in your soul’s journey.  It’s the common case of ‘two steps forward, five steps back’ and it is already SO HARD to get those two precious steps forward.  I feel as though every time I make a breakthrough and allow love to lead my thoughts rather then fear, something happens to bring it all crashing down.  I am a small boat; a one-sail sunfish afloat in a sea far too large.  And when the winds are calm, joyfully I sail onward.  When a storm starts to rise up, I tighten up the sail and keep bravely going.  Sometimes I can make it through intact.  Sometimes the winds keep growing and blowing me around until before I realize what’s happening, I’m overturned, helplessly flung about in the waves.  It always calms down, and the sun always comes shining down once more.  But, it seems like those storms happen too often for positive progress.  When the storm calms, and I return to an upright position, sometimes it’s hard to tell where I am.

I know in my heart that everyone experiences this.  For what would life be were we not to experience the all of it?  The good, the bad, the up, the down, the left and the right of it. And I know that it is up to me, and me only, to accept and change if necessary where and who I am.  It seems too great a challenge at times.  It’s too easy to give in to those ego-driven thoughts laden with false charms. It’s too easy to fall asleep and stay there not struggling with anything.  But I know there would be no growth, no reward with that.  I just feel so…useless to myself sometimes.

It’s very hard to open oneself up to scrutiny and close observation.  I keep this blog to hold myself accountable to, well, myself.  I can look back at what I’ve written and see my own struggles and know that I come out alive and well each time I go through the deep, dark valleys.

Life is no gold-laden pathway.  It is filled with danger around every corner.  But, there is help along the journey.  It is always available, always willing.  All you have to do is reach out and accept it.

old and new blogs

I've just started this blog.  My previous blog is through wordpress (I'm going to keep up both), and I'll be importing all my blogs from there until I get up and running on this one as well.  I started a blog here so I could find other blogs to follow that aren't on wordpress.

Looking forward to meeting some cool bloggers on this site!

The way to a woman's heart?

So, everyone knows the common phrase 'the way to a man's heart is through his stomach'. Men are easy enough to figure out (99% of them anyway).  Do we need to list the top three things that many men enjoy and think about?  But, I have heard numerous men complain that they just can't figure women out.  Apparently we're just too complex.  I feel though that there is one thing a man can do that will certainly please a woman.  Compliment her! Every man should know that we LOVE compliments.  Even when we act all shy and don't know how to respond, or deny it profusely.  Deep down, you've just made our hearts glow with happiness.  I can almost guarantee that it gives our brains a nice shot of those feel-good hormones, enough to get us through a sticky moment in a day.  You don't need to compliment us every day.  And it should NEVER EVER be insincere.  But, it should be very easy for you to find something that you appreciate about the significant women in your life. It's okay to get caught staring at a beautiful woman (some of us get 'creeped' out by it, and yes there can be some certifiable creepy guys out there, but for the most part it makes us feel good).  Just don't linger with it, we might think you have some unspeakable thoughts running through your head that, quite frankly, we don't want to know about.

So please.  Tell (and show) the woman you love that you do in fact love her, and remind her often of the way her beauty stops you in your tracks.  Tell her that you appreciate it when she cooks for you, or that the way she touches your arm drives you wild.  Tell her that you love that spark in her eyes when she talks about something about which she is passionate. Be creative!

Struggles

It is so hard to see the beauty which arises from the struggle.  The struggle I talk about is the only struggle there is- the struggle with 'yourself'.  But with whom are you really struggling?  If you are the tug, then where is the location of the pull?  Is it your mind versus your body?  How can they truly be separate?

I am still coming to peace with this idea that there is beauty from the pain.  I am still in this 'struggle' and the stages of acceptance.  It is still so difficult for me to admit to myself, let alone publicly, that I deal so strongly with the frustrations of being here, of being me.   But to do this is so important.  Admitting your struggles can allow yourself to open up to the help that is waiting.  All you have to do is be open and accepting.

Jealousy and facebook

Facebook is, in my opinion, a horrible thing.  For me anyway.  I understand its special significance as a social connector, but I feel that all it's done in my life is create a spastic need to put up attractive pictures and witty quotes and thought-provoking status updates.  A lot of pressure on a girl if I do say.  It has created a need to say 'hey, look at me.  I can have charming and adorable pictures just like you.'  I feel a certain envy when looking through some of my friends' photos.  Envy at wedding pictures (I am not feeling that desire myself quite yet though), envy at beautiful women, envy at road trip pics, any number of other pictures really.  Just this morning, I was flipping through someone's photos I don't even know.  She had beautiful dark hair, large dark eyes and a gorgeous facial structure. And I felt it, that hard feeling of envy situated just below my sternum.  It's a unique emotion, wholly of its own design.  And it can be quite cancerous, spreading throughout the rest of my body.  This feeling is not what rules my day, but it can rule any certain moment in time.  It can lead to destructive thoughts: I am not beautiful enough, witty enough, charming enough.

Now, envy can lead to great things.  It can drive a person to work at something they want to achieve- it can lead a person to save money to buy that house, get in shape, dress nicer, study harder to ace those tests, or any number of things.  In my case, it can drive me to save up money to buy the land I feel would best support the garden and the home that I imagine in my mind.   However, envy has a dark side, which is all too often the side that shows itself in our daily lives.  It's the envy that leads a woman to think that she is ugly, or dumb, or lacks the charm that another woman seems to have.  That is not the side of envy that I want showing its face in my life.

This shows me that I have work to do in my own life.  How I react to things has everything to do with my own perception of myself and my life, and nothing to do with what it is I am reacting to.  So, to that effect, facebook can be a catalyst to delving deeper into my own psyche to work out my thoughts and emotions.  There is no reason for me to feel jealousy over another person's looks, possessions, or anything else.  I have a fabulous life- I have a charm, wit, look, and drive all my own.  I have a wonderful man who loves me and thinks I am perfect the way I am.  I have much to be thankful for, and it does me no good to dwell on that which I do not have.  Jealousy has no place in my life.  It's tough though, as we are built to strive and achieve.

Autumn's Wind

One of my favorite things about autumn is the wind.  So many people will complain about it, and frankly, they have a right.  It's pesky, it's teasing, it's capricious, it seems never ending some days. It's also unquestionably powerful and soulful and full of laughter and delight.  And I love what it does with the trees.  It causes them to twist and bend, to sway and reach.  And the leaves scurry along the roads in little packs, like miscreants taking over a town.

The wind entices you to either stay inside where it's warm and comforting, or it calls to you to wander through woods and fields, letting the wind whip around you in a frenzy.  So much to enjoy in the changing of the seasons...

Shadows and Sun

I can see it, over there.  The top of the mountain.  That place to which we all rise, to  overlook our journey of life.  But every time I get to the top of a particularly large hill, there's just another one looming ahead, foreboding and shadowed and with seemingly no reprieve.

There is so much wisdom and truth, some hidden, some out in the open.  So much of this truth I have come across.  But still, it barely sinks in through my human brain.  I see it, I hear it, I feel it, I 'ah-ha' it....is it all to no avail?  Some mountains I feel I'll never be able to cross over, no matter how hard I climb.

All that's left to do is to huddle over, letting the rain and the shadows soak and chill you to the bone until there is nothing left to do but wait until the sun comes out once more. Sometimes you just have to wait until you're ready to climb on.  This journey will never end, but eventually you will see the purpose, and behold joy in the process.

Just call me 'the grouse flusher'

"For dose dat don't know much about the Superior State, dere's a couple of tings that need to be explained. First ting is, in da U.P., we don't explain tings. Second ting is, we got some of the best huntin' and fishin' in da whole world."

When I first started dating my boyfriend, I was SUPER excited that he hunted.  No more paying exorbitant prices at the grocery store just to get some high-quality meat for my dinner!  I don't eat meat every day, but I've been eating it more and more since Tim and I started dating (almost a year ago now!).  But geez, the local meat that I buy goes anywhere from $7-8/lb to $14/lb!  So, I had wonderful visions in my head of him bringin' home the bacon ("Put on the lard and onions baby, I'm gonna gut you a buck!") to be cooked into a delicious stew or meat pie.

However, in all my excitement at the prospect of meat that was hunted for, I didn't really consider what goes into it....it actually needs to be hunted for.  Tim could be out there all day long and not come home with a damned thing except for an incoming cold and a voracious appetite that all the most delicious vegetarian recipes in the world couldn't satiate.

I also didn't expect the implications of going hunting with Tim, which I did for the first time last Sunday- "Oh hey honey, would you mind just goin' along that ridge of trees and seeing if you can flush out a grouse?"  Sure thing babe, should I go on point when I've found something?  And perhaps bay if I tree a coon?    In addition, we kept hearing lots of gunfire off in the distance.  Did they call all the grouse their way?  Were they some sort of pied pipers, singing a magic song to capture all the game?  We didn't get a single shot off. Must have picked the wrong spot... Really though, it was a fantastic time.  There's something about being out in the woods, getting brambles and twigs caught on clothes and hair and getting covered with muck, that brings out your inner wild child.

And I can't wait for the day he actually brings home a buck.  There are a few things I'm not sure I would be too enthusiastic about...raccoon or possum being two of them.  Basically, anything that wouldn't hesitate to eat trash.  You are what you eat after all.  And if a raccoon eats our trash, and we eat the raccoon, would that make us secondhand trash??

And, who knows, maybe one day I'll even be the one bringing home a deer...Since the last time I shot anything (a bird, with a bb gun) I cried for a week, I'm not sure I'll be hunting anytime soon.

Being me, being a woman

On a whim, I've decided to pay a woman I've never met to mentor me in my journey to self-love, and to help me step into my femininity.  This is a big step in the recently begun journey to uncovering the joys of my womanhood, and in general being ok with who I am. This journey started a year or so ago when I was at the depths of unhappiness. A culmination of events and situations, my joy in life was severely afflicted and in sore need of attention and deliverance from unappreciation.  Slowly, I've been increasing my stores of self-appreciation and admiration.

Little things have been helping me on my journey- observing the way other women carry themselves, talking with a therapist, getting in touch with what gives me joy, learning that it's ok to do something because I want to and to not do something if I don't want to, and lately, this journey has been vamped up big time.  I've been barraged with books and websites all aimed at digging into your femininity and desires, and learning to be in tune with who you are and who you want to be.  I've been introduced to powerful women who are effective teachers and mentors (technologically speaking, as I've 'met' these women on the internet).

These books, and supporting websites, have all gently prodded me to take a good look at the woman I am and where I wish to go in this life.  The resulting answers are that I want to open up to my sensual, beautiful, juicy, joyful femininity.  On the physical side, I've dusted off my handful of dresses and skirts and brought out my heels.  I've taken the strawberry-red lipstick out of the car (where it's been for a shameful amount of time) and put in on my lips. I've introduced my hair to conditioner and my styling fingers and have cut accentuating bangs (the usual morning repertoire? Take my hair out of it's nighttime braid and tie it back) and am in general making more of an effort to remind myself and others that yes, I am a woman who likes to look good.  On the inside- the emotional and unseen side- I've added stretching/yoga and meditation to my morning, making a point to wake up early and heave my body out of bed (literally- I groan, toss about for a bit, and lug my body off the edge of the bed. Sometimes I crawl right off the side of the bed and lay, head and arms on the floor and feet still stuck under warm blankets until I inch my way all the way off) to awaken my body and loosen stiff muscles ( I must work out in my dreams, I always wake up feeling as though I'd run a marathon).  All silliness aside, it has helped me to feel more energized in the morning and puts me in a positive mood.  Really.  I've also started to pay more attention to what my body is craving and how I can supply it with what it's asking for.  Lately, all it's wanted is a boost in confidence.  So, I walk with my head up and pretend I have a bubble of high self-esteem surrounding my body.  I step with purpose and have a smile at the corners of my lips.  In short, I walk like a queen.  I imagine to myself as I walk past people that they are thinking to themselves, now THERE'S a woman who feels at home with herself!

At heart, I am a compassionate, caring woman.  I hope someday to have a family for which I cook and clean (yes, those stereotypical 'housewife' skills), and be a role model, both in my family and community.  I am full of sensuality and desire, and have a passion for living. I have joy in my heart and a smile in my eyes.  All of these I wish to develop to their fullest, I just need a little help sometimes.

Dark dreams and restless nights

Sliding down the cold metallic feel of hard truths and false wonderings,

I wait for the moment to pass

until I can feel calm and at ease once more.

Politely I ask dark thoughts to be on their way,

but they overstay their welcome,

gorging on my anxieties and

refilling their cups to the brim with my good intentions

turned lemon sour.

I feel the hard twist inside as those thoughts

meander their way, all too slowly,

through the depths of my body.

Releasing the floodgates of unsure realities

and fear-based decisions

Until the Wild Woman in me screams, “ENOUGH!”

“You have had your fill, your time is up.

Leave these fertile lands,

do not tread upon these fields sown with fresh seed.”

Grumbling, they obey, filtering out of my mind.

They leave trails, like old tracks that cut deep in a land once

Abused for its precious resources.

The scars fill again with moss and grass and wildflowers,

showing only promises and memories at their retreat.

The wind of the night time, that sweet breath of stillness which holds such promise, leaves me slowly as I toss and turn about inside my mind, body echoing its movement.  Those petals of the renewing flower of sleep drop from my mind like the last leaves of fall, withered as they twirl through the air to rest upon the ground.  While I never fear the nighttime and what it may bring, I sometimes feel a certain amount of apprehension.  Wondering what my night dreams might bring, wondering if I’ll wake up too early and not be able to fall back asleep.  Restless are my dreams; they always have been.  Only twice have I awoke during the night, panting and crying at what visions my mind held, although it is not unusual for me to toss and turn, and wake with the bitter taste of fright in my mouth in the morning.  Reality creeps in slowly, and I am left to search for the cryptic messages those dreams have left.

The most common theme to my dreams is the feeling of being hunted down by someone, or several people.  And no matter how hard I try, I cannot get away.  No matter how fast I run, those following me are never far behind.  No matter where I hide, I am always found, and the chase begins anew.

While these are certainly not divinely inspirational dreams and never leave me well-rested, they are not to be brushed aside as insignificant.  Our dreams are gateways into the deepest reaches of our sub-conscious and what is really going on in there, and if you are fortunate enough to be able to remember at least a part of the previous night’s dream, it would do you well to meditate on it.  I used to think that those dreams of mine were just my misfortune.  I always wished that I could have pleasant dreams.  Dreams where, when I was going through depression or anxiety-laden days, I was visited by angels who would tell  me that everything was going to be ok and that they were watching me through the day.  Instead, I would have predatory dreams.  I have come to understand that those dreams are gifts of insight from my psyche.  Whenever I have a string of dreams like that- maybe not every night, but often enough in a period of time that I should be mindful of their presence in my life- I take them to mean that I am being too hard on myself internally and sub-consciously.  That dark side of my ego, the part that comes prowling through the forest of my mind and tells me that I am not good enough and all sorts of other lies, needs to be reined in and checked hard, and I need to bring myself back into the presence of my all-loving Self and become aware of what I am experiencing in the sub-regions of my being.

While it is never pleasant to experience dreams like these, I no longer allow them to dampen my days.  Instead, I allow them to tell me what I am not aware enough when awake to realize- that I am unbalanced internally and need to pull all the threads of my being back in from their wandering to be checked for loose ends and frays.  When my dreams become more settled, I know that all is well and balanced again.

How to Wrangle a Pig

Another post of mine from another blog, also posted in August, 2011:

Have you ever wondered to yourself how you would catch a pig were you to find one running around, wreaking havoc and mayhem?  Well, I never did. Perhaps if I had asked of my soul the answer to that question, I would have had an easier time of it this morning. Perhaps I would have saved myself hours of cajoling, pleading, and begging three escaped pigs to go home.  But, as fate would have it, I had one hell of a time convincing these pigs that it was a better idea to go home to their muddy, boring, fenced-in home rather than roam wide and free and up-rooting small plants to their hearts desire.

It all started when I woke up this morning and went to water the pigs.  When I fill their water bucket, they usually come running.  Their cute little habit of over-turning the bucket just after I fill it in order to keep the mud to their liking results in them never having enough drinking water and they always come rushing out to drink.  The first sign of trouble was when no pigs came running out of the shelter.  Second sign of trouble?  No pigs IN the shelter.  That's when I noticed that the fence was torn wide open.  I frantically searched for them around the perimeter of the farm.  For all I knew, they could have been gone all night (turns out they had been).  None of the nearest neighbors appeared to be home, so I tried calling every person I knew to get some back-up wranglers.  The first four people I tried either didn't answer or had their phones turned off.  Lucky Monday.  After calling around for the pigs (here pig, pig pig pig....here piggy.  High pitched voice and everything), I noticed a guy pulling into the driveway.  I ran over to him and asked him if he didn't happen to be here on account of some wandering pigs.  His confused and slightly panicked expression was either a result of my dirty clothes and face and near-tears yet still hopeful look on my face or that there were pigs rooting through his yard.  Turns out it was the pigs (although, the fact that I was panting and covered with mud may have contributed).  I followed him back to his house where sure enough, the pigs were curled up in a corner of the yard.

After a few unsuccessful attempts at constructing a pig leash (I'd get it around the neck but then the pig would take off in a frantic manner, squealing as though I was trying to rip her tail off), I tried to herd them through the bush and trees to go home (about a quarter of a mile away), trying to use a bucket of food as bait.  Also unsuccessful.  Turns out, there's a pretty steady supply of garbage and other piggy goods between the farm and the neighbor's house where they made a new residence.  The neighbor let his dog out thinking he might scare them home.  Instead, the pigs ran toward the dog, causing the wife to shrilly call out for her dog.  I'm pretty sure they were just curious.  I tried to get the man to help me herd them home, but he mumbled a few non-committal things and wandered into the house.  Probably to console his apparently inconsolable wife.  Turns out that coming home at midnight after working all day to find that three pigs did an impromptu tilling of your yard doesn't make for happy conversation.

I finally got ahold of a friend of mine who said that it sounded interesting enough that he'd take an early lunch.  The two of us managed to poke, prod, and herd three pigs through the dense underbrush back to their pens.  I did get quite a laugh watching him jump on the back of one of the pigs in an attempt to get a leash around it's neck.  Imagine bull riding, only on a short and stumpy 300 pound animal that squeals.

With the pigs more or less securely in their pen again, I can only hope that they'll be too tired for the next few days to try anything again before the owners come home.

turkey turn-ons, snoring cats and other farm-sittin' business

I pulled this post from another blog of mine, which was posted on August 5, 2011:

I've been farm sitting for the last 5 days or so.  I have never done it before, so it's been an experience.  I'd always had the notion that I'd like to have some farm animals someday.  Nothing crazy, just your regular goats-ducks-chickens.  I'd dabbled with the thought of having a cow, pigs, and/or sheep, but now realize that I'd rather not, thank you.  This farm has cats, ducks, chickens, turkeys, and pigs.  There were goats, but they'd escaped one too many times and that was that for those goats.

The first night I got to the farm, the turkeys were hanging out on the front porch (turkey poop, much like goose and chicken poop, is not easy to avoid.  And it is NOT fun to step in). I sat on one of the steps and just watched them.  I'd never spent any time with turkeys, so I was fascinated.  They, in my opinion, make the most soothing noises as they preen and groom themselves, shaking off dandruff and loosening little feathers.  It was comforting just to be around them.  The ducks are a little more paranoid about having you in their personal space, but are just as calming with their evening antics- noising through grass as they settle down and run bills through feathers, occasionally stretching out their wings and flapping furiously or opening them up and pushing them back as they luxuriously stretch out a leg, strikingly similar to a yoga pose.  I'm quite enamored.  I woke up the second morning to a dead duck with half it's head eaten and another one (he had a gimpy leg) was gone.  I think it was a fox.  So now, I enclose them in their wooden shelter at night.  I was told to just leave them out because they're big enough to stay out all night, but I won't lost any more.  So now, it's a chase around the pen until I can manage to round them up into their shelter.  It ain't easy let me tell you.  Ducks are stupid.  Really.  They will run all around the periphery of the fence until they get caught in this one side where the chicken wire curls in on itself and quack furiously, still trying to move forward.  I finally figured out that if you pick them up, they go limp in your hands, not fighting at all.  No wonder the fox came for them.  They just offer their necks up for grabs.

The pigs, despite their smell, are pretty fun to watch.  When I water them, they like to stick their noses under the hose and occasionally bite onto it so that the water runs into their mouths.  They also push and shove on the water bucket so that it topples into the mud.  I sigh and just refill the bucket.  When I bring out the food, they run around ecstatically, jumping higher than you'd think a pig can jump, and oinking and grunting til you fill their feeder bucket.

The chickens, well, they're chickens.  They cluck and coo and peck around my feet and make me smile when I find their eggs hiding in a corner.

The turkeys...oh, those turkeys.  They are hilarious.  Have you ever seen a turkey run? It's all squawks  and feathers flapping and waddling dangerously from side to side as one leg splays out to one side and then the other to the other side.  I get to see this crazy action every time I start my motorcycle.  I swear they are turned on by my motorcycle.  Every time I start it up in the morning, I watch them.  As soon as the engine starts purring and rumbling it's contented little engine, seven turkey heads pop up.  I imagine their eyes might open a little wide too.  Then, they are falling all over each other in their eagerness to reach the bike, flapping down off porch railings and scattering in general mayhem til they pick up speed.  Then they slow down and the four toms ruffle up their feathers all pretty and stalk slowly toward the bike and gobble in unison at the bike.  I laugh every time this happens. Once they even ran toward me as I came home down the driveway, gobbling and cackling until I stopped the engine.  Then they milled around the bike before finally losing interest and going off to search the grass.

The cats also have their own characters.  One of them, a voracious licker, also snores.  I've heard snoring dogs, but a cat?  He likes to hang out on the bed as I read at night.  The first time I heard him snoring, I couldn't believe it.  So I prodded him with my toe and when he woke up (it took some convincing), he grabbed my foot between his paws and started licking.  I keep my legs tucked under his body so I can feel him purring as he lays there, or one on top of his stomach and one tucked between his front paws.  He's a very cool cat.

All this farm sitting has got me to realize that I really WOULD like to have a yardful of some birds and an assortment of other animals.  My boyfriend, well, he's into it too but likes to remind me that he doesn't want to have anything from tying us down if we decide to go somewhere for a weekend.  Guess I'll have to wait awhile before I get my farm.

In search of the Wild Woman

A passage from the book "Women Who Run with the Wolves" by Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes:

So what compromises the Wild Woman? From the viewpoint of archetypal psychology and as well as in ancient traditions, she is the female soul.  Yet she is more; she is the source of the feminine.  She is all that is of instinct, of the worlds both seen and hidden-she is the basis.yal heart.  She is the Life/Death/Life force, she is the incubator.  She is intuition, she is far-seer, she is deep listerner, she is loyal heart.  She encourages humans to remain multi-lingual; fluent in the languages of dreams, passion and poetry.  SHe whispers from night dreams, she leaves behind on the terrain of a woman's soul a coarse hair and muddy footprints.  These fill women with longing to find her, free her, and love her.

She is ideas, feelings, urfes, and memory.  She has been lost and half forgotten for a long, long time.  She is the source, the light, the night, the dark and daybreak.  She is the smell of good mud and the back leg of the fox.  The birds which tell us secrets belong to her.  She is the voice that says, 'This way, this way.'

She is the one who thunders after injustice.  She is the one who turns like a great wheel. She is the maker of cycles. She is the one we leave home to look for.  She is the one we come home to.  She is the mucky root of all women.  She is the things that keep us going when we think we're done for.  She is the incubator of raw little ideas and deals.  She is the mind which thinks us, we are the thoughts that she thinks.

Where is she present? Where can you feel her, where can you find her?  She walks the deserts, woods, oceans, cities, in the barrios, and in castles.  She lives among queens, in the factory, in the prison, in the mountain of solitude.  She lives in the ghetto, at the university, and in the streets.  She leaves footprints for us to try on for size.  She leaves footprints wherever there is one woman who is fertile soil.

Where does she live?  At the bottom of the well, in the headwaters, in the ether before time.  She lives in the tear and in the ocean.  She lives in the cambia of trees, which pings as it grows.  She is from the future and from the beginning of time.  She lives in the past and is summoned by us.  She is in the present and keeps a chair at our table, stands behind us in line, and drives ahead of us on the road.  She in in the future and walks backward in time to find us now.

She lives in the green poking through snow, she lives in the rustling stalks of dying autumn corn, she lives where the dead come to be kissed and the living send their prayers.  She lives in the place where language is made.  She lives on poetry and percussion and singing. She lives on quarter notes and grace notes, and in a cantata, in a sestina, and in the blues. She is the moment just before inspiration bursts upon us.  She lives in a faraway place that breaks through to our world.

Each and every one of us is the evidence of not only Wild Woman's existence , but of her condition in the collective.  We are the proof of this ineffable female numen,  Our existence parallels hers.  The fact that we are bereft in her absense, that we long and yearn when we are separated from her; these are the manifestations that she has passed through this way...