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Not Far from the Tree

September 9, 2017 in Book Matters, Cat Lady Matters, Country Matters, Essays, Spirit Matters

I know I’ve been quiet on this blog. I’ve been quiet everywhere for a week as I find the rhythm of writing this book. It’s forcing me to evaluate how I expend my energy, because being of body means we have limited battery each day. I’m figuring out when and where to eat, when and how to exercise, who and how to see. Most of all I’m figuring out what to say and when, for communication requires the most energy of all. I have about a month to squeeze as much of this book inside my heart and head and hands into the world, and I’ve never better understood the double entendre of such words as produce, create, birth. Continue Reading →

Captain’s Log

August 28, 2017 in Astro Matters, Book Matters, Country Matters, Ruby Intuition, Spirit Matters

I’m writing so well today that I almost don’t mind what a total nightmare of unhappy blankness the weekend was. Almost. We use social media to connect and to trumpet our pretty times and political views. But what about when the turmoil lands so hard it’s impossible to leave the house or say even a word? These are heavy times—mercury retrograde eclipse season heavens raining vengeance upon us times (literally) and it doesn’t help at all that I’m channeling harder and deeper than I ever have but for my own work. Sometimes writing this book is like taking dictation from an Old Testament-style Cassandra. Other times it’s like listening to a noseybody neighbor run amok. Either way, it’s heavy pizza, man.

Yesterday was awfully nice in New York, or so I hear. I got dressed to go out and then found I simply couldn’t. Couldn’t cook, couldn’t talk, really couldn’t face all the brunchers and flaneuzies still writing the story they’re dying to tell their someday grandkids. In a sane society–and what a utopian concept that is just about now-there’d not only be a fully blown National Endowment for the Arts but a sort of coast guard for those of us drowning in the heaviness of our creative projects.

Blood in His Tracks (Indigo Grownups)

August 25, 2017 in Age Matters, Cat Lady Matters, City Matters, Ruby Intuition, Sabboytical, Spirit Matters

I have come to accept my sadness as holy. I don’t mean to fetishize depression. I don’t even think the great grief I experience is depression–it’s situationally appropriate and does not rise up to wall me from my day, duties, you.

But I think of my sadness—this heavy, grave stillness—as holy because it is true and because, after all these years, I am grateful to feel even when it is very, very hard.

As a young empath my daily prayer was to not stop feeling. I worried that I’d grow as numb as most adults, that I’d stop registering the sorrows and struggles and triumphs of bugs, birds, plants, people–of every soul quietly hurtling on its forcefulm fateful path. I felt everything so deeply that it made me cry in fast food restaurants and plastic playgrounds paved over meadows, at birthday parties where the parents didn’t seem happy their kids had been born. Oh, Lisa, she’s so sensitive. That’s what they always say, isn’t it, when we can’t block out the miracles and savagery of everyday life.  Continue Reading →

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy