I got a new complaint, and I am forever in debt to your priceless advice...so please advise me. Remember, I am the little Leo and I am just hanging on any comment you may muster up the energy to send my way. I want to be seen and heard and noticed right now. And I want to see you.

6 months...5 years... twenty two years after the facts. Anyone seen or heard from JoBeth? I'm also looking for Leslye Allen and Jim Rogers. Whatever happened to Fay or Jackie Keatts, or my duet partner Greg? I am calling out to people of my past. Are you possibly interested in me, cause I am interested in you. Perhaps this is a forty-somethin thing to do. So be it.

Since I have made this much effort with the people I am not in touch with, /i heretofore declare my intention to reconnect with those brothers and sisters lost whom I know where to find...you know who you are, here I come. I already started earlier this eve with my facebook assault.

I don't really NEED it so much as I may have in the past, just WANT it. Come on all you people who have loved me in the past. Read my stuff and notice me and talk to me. Do you have blogs? Please direct me to them. "I believe right now if I could I would swallow you whole. I would leave only bones and teeth and we could see what was underneath." SV

Prolly notsomuch about Obama or GM or India or any of that. It's all pertinent to the world we live in and life in general, but I am more interested in the true you. Anyone want to play? Is this venue too public? If so, tell me your rules. Private emails, a yahoogroup just for us? I want to reconnect now that I finally have the means... back on-line after six long months. "This is what you want, this is what you get."

So I want real connection. Anyone else? Come on.

And no, I didn't get cable too.

peace and love and all that hippy shit 

and ps, listen to the words to "somebody" (on my playlist in case you don't have it memorized). It's heartbreaking, I tell ya, right down to the last sigh at the end. "television" rocks too btw. That oughtta get a comment or twelve.

After placing the grief bundles on the alter, the twelve grievers proceed to the meadow. In the dome we strip, some clinging to their clothing til the last minute. Naked and smudged we thank the ancestors as we crawl into the now freezing womb hut. It is 40 degrees but my anticipation (and anxiety) of the impending heatwave keep my heart pumping and I'm not cold. What if it is too hot? What if I feel like I can't breathe? What if all that hummus we ate at lunch makes me fart? What if I start screaming before it is sanctioned? I hated the sauna at the Olympus spa. I couldn't stand it for more than five minutes, gasping for breath into a wet washcloth. An HOUR? An hour is an eternity. I heard you could put your face down in the mud to get some extra oxygen and feel the cool earth. At least I don't feel claustrophobic. I know I can claw my way out of the sides if I totally freak out-it's just blankets of course.

I crawl in and around the circle. Once packed in, we are knee to knee. The Four Directions are called in and thanked and Sky and Earth and Center. 4 large red rocks are tonged in with deer antlers. Voices coo "Ooooh" and "Ahhhh," which seems a bit woo-woo to me, but wtf, take what you need and all that shit, right? Lavender and sweet grass and other pleasant smelling substances are tossed about. It is warm now, but comfortably so. My toes thaw out as the butterflies swarm in my gut. Here comes the sweat.

And the screaming and singing and sweating. There are thirteen stones now - one for each of us and one for Spirit. When the water is poured the sweat and tears pour with it. I wail for the loss of my marraige. I wail for my children and how they will be affected. I wail for the six-year-old that is me, the little freckle-faced girl that could never seem to get enough attention, just wanted to be loved. The little Leo. I wail for the disappointment I felt when all these men couldn't love me the way I deserved to be loved. I wail for the rage I feel toward this woman who was just doing all she could to feel loved too. I wail for the world, the earth... all my friends and perceived foes. I wail for my parents who just do the best they can and for their parents who did the same. And it's hot and it's hard to breathe and I can feel the sweat of the woman next to me dripping on me and mixing with my sweat and tears. And it has probably only been twenty minutes. And I'm glad my discomfort and discomfort and discomfort will go on and on and on for a very long time. I've swallowed my pain and hysteria for so long and now is my time to cry for all our pain.

And then, in some moments, I return to journalist mode. I am suddenly the observer. I just listen in the blackness... and sweat and sweat and sweat. There is cackling and murmuring and coughing and spitting and singing and screaming and laughing and suddenly I am struggling to fend off the urge to belt out my favorite shower song-One Tin Soldier. Maybe next sweat I'll be free to give in to that one. But this time I just kick back and sweat. And I notice my soaking body is really slimey. Is that my snot? Then I realize I have gotten into some slug slime and rubbed it all over my dripping bod. Only in the Northwest. And so it goes.

So how can the pendulum that is my emotions possibly swing so far to each end of the spectrum in the course of a few moments in time? I am so high on my newfound freedom in one breath and so frozen with the fear of being a "displaced homemaker" the next? So jazzed by the energy of this beautiful welcoming, loving community that has enfolded us and so wondering how the rent will be paid. So torn by the idea of continuing on my path of ultimate uber mommying versus the daycare dynamic that is destined to pervade my newfound free life. "Where is my child support, I don't have money for food," is met with "What about the food bank and why don't you have a job yet?" Ouch? The good news came at parent/teacher conferences today. "You would never know Dusty is the 'new kid,' he is great friends with everyone and clearly on-level with the rest of the class as far as reading and math goes." She presented his self-made text book loaded with beautiful drawings and handsome cursive writings. Miranda's teacher noted her desperate quest to be loved by all, but who am I to take fault with such a noble endeavor. I have stolen a few cyber moments down here at the RoundHouse, but my battery juice is nearly spent. I must retire to the cabin before my fire goes out anyway, man do I love burning. I miss blogging but am so busy with single-mammaing and career questing. I miss you Stephanie and Caroleigh and Rebecca and Dad and Kris and anyone else who keps a cyber ear out for us!!!! Lola's visit rocked and I'll write more soon!!!!

peace!

CT

ps-still no tv, phone or net and NO WORSE for it. Who knew???????

pps-Party in the streets Wednesday!!!!!!!!!

How could I underestimate some of the great things that can come to us through the seemingly untimely death of our primary relationship?

Independence

I may be poorer, financially, than at any point in my life drama, but this is MY poverty. I decide if a certain food item (think cashew butter or an after drop-off  latte) is splurge-worthy. The physical prosperity will intensify as I work my own way back up the financial ladder through loads of hard work and even more recycling, penny-pinching and creativity.

SEX

Since this is a somewhat public blog and my Dad is known to drop by from time to time, even though he hasn't pranced his happy ass out to WA in two years, I'll keep this aspect of the triad brief.

Let's just say that my sex life has been seriously neglected in the past decade. What an incredible place to find myself, with a kind, compassionate, patient, attentive and tender lover who often seems genuinely more interested in my pleasure than his own. And, yes, this development is mostly responsible for my last few blogless weeks. But if anyone should think to be concerned that this relationship has, in any way, consumed me….No, no, no…. it's weekends only. What we share is very satisfying despite a total lack of need for commitment by either party. It just is what it is – just what I need it to be.

Time

Since my previous partner was rarely available, physically or emotionally, the single-Mamma thang hasn't been as overwhelming as one might expect. Recently, I have even had weekends to myself as the kids go stay with their Dad and his new family. In fact, they see him more now than when we were a family. Now when they are asleep, playing with friends or at school, I am free to work, read, think, sing, dance, pray, watch, love, eat, laugh, cry, scream, chant and anything else I want to do whenever and however I want. No judge. No jury. No-one to continuously displease and disappoint. My goodness, I am actually starting to like myself. And I shall fall in love again, first with myself and then with some lucky person who happens to pass by at the most synchronicitous time. Btw, synchronicitous really should be a word.

It may be interesting to note that I would have NEVER walked away from my marriage. I wanted counseling and book-reading and trying harder and anything else that might have helped our family stay together. I wanted to rediscover trust and passion, to learn how to listen to him and find ways to help him hear me. My abandonment baggage led me to believe his leaving would be the worst thing that could ever happen to me. My greatest fear turned out to be a friend. Finally I am healing and growing and becoming the other me I knew I was. I am not a victim. I am lucky and loving and loved.

jotted down a few days ago... can you tell I'm into Eckhart Tolle now?

Another blog…

So there are these days when I want to fully embrace the newer me. I want to reach out to those I often feel have wronged me greatly. But what is "feel" and what is "wronged" if I am to truly live in the "now?" Surely all us semi-enlightened and semi-educated beings "know" that all we can truly do is live in the moment. We've known since the seventies we are supposed to "be here now." There is only love and fear, right? But what is "now" when most of us seem to operate so fully in our heads? "Maybe I think too much" we chant along knowingly with the likes of Paul Simon and the other prophets. There are the always encroaching "What-ifs" that assure us constantly of our deep intelligence. We think, therefore we are, right? How could we possibly get out of our heads, and to what end? If we didn't have the constant chirping and chiding in our minds, what would we have? Meditation is supposed to be good for us, right? We'll just clear our minds and be in the moment. Good luck with that one when there are bills to be paid and exes to be dealt with. But think about it folks. Do any other moments really exist besides the ones in which we actually find ourselves? Why dwell in the past or future? Shouldn't we all take the sages' advice and simply be satisfied, perhaps even joy-filled, in the moment of washing the dishes, sipping the coffee, observing the owl, listening to the children, masturbating, fixing the tire, picking the nose, listening to the message, preparing the meal, getting ready for the date, wiping our ass, advising the weary friend, returning the e-mail, checking out the books, watering the squash and brushing the teeth?

Okay, so here comes another one…days later. These are all out of order as I have to do them in Word until I can get online... This one was written last night.

Tonight was my first "Wailing Lodge." What the hell is a wailing lodge, you may ask. Well, what the hell do you think it is? I may reply. What you think it is is probably what it is. Some people get together and spend some quality time grieving for all they have "lost" or for the children in Darfur or the poisoning of the planet...just about anything we feel the need to grieve.  There was a woman who lost her husband in the night, he just didn't wake up. Another lost the father of her young children to another woman. Another young woman's love was murdered. One woman had "Daddy issues" and also wails for the destruction of Mother Earth and pretty much all the suffering in this world. Another woman cries for her abusive childhood and dead brother. The rites are too private to discuss in any more detail, but the results must be documented by this journalist. There were moments when I was desperate to look about and feel/observe the others' experiences, but for the better part of the three hours I was intensely connected to the spirit in my soul that is and always has felt desperate for abiding love. Just love me, the little girl in me screamed. Another aspect of my IS screamed my ultimate disappointment, "I just wanted us to be a family." I wailed for my dead dream until snot was running down my face and my eyes were so puffy I could barely see. I have always enjoyed a good cry from time to time, but this was beyond cathartic. 

That was last night...today I am just quietly roaming around the land...processing. Pain is good and I feel my whole psyche shifting into my heart. I don't really know what that means, but that is what it feels like. I'll post more on this as I understand it more.

I think I have to be alone to do my soul work. As soon as I am in a partnership, I stop trying to love myself because all my energy flows into making sure the other person loves me. All too common a situation I am sure.

peace

The owl visited us today. What a treat to be blessed by the wise one, surely a sign of so much magic yet to come in our new forest home. The kids had just finished the last of the dinner dishes, (lentils, corn chowder, green salad and, of course, purple potatoes) and made their way back up to the cabin. I was lollygagging at the Round House when Dusty and Miranda burst through the woods shouting what I thought to be "Ow! Ow!" Oh dear, another tumble into a blackberry bush, nettle madness or some other of Mother Nature's many surprises? "Where are you hurt?" I cry out. "No! Owl! Owl!" Suddenly Therese appears and scampers after the children, "Oh I want to see!" I chase after the trio fully expecting the shy creature to be long gone, what with all the hollering. Giddy with anticipation, we race through the meadow toward the cabin. Sure enough, the horned owl is perched on a high branch just over the porch. He let us observe him, or her, no idea how to tell the difference yet, for a couple of minutes before soaring off in search of a different resting place. We thanked the bird for sharing its presence and talked about his visit the rest of the evening. Now there is something you just don't get in the burbs.

Throughout the ages, the Owl has been a symbol of Wisdom from many tribes throughout North America to ancient Greek and Roman mythology, Owl is synonymous with the Gift of Higher Knowledge and insight.  In Greek mythology, Athena (the Goddess of Wisdom) was often seen with an owl either perched atop her shoulder or flying along beside her.

The large eyes of these beautiful birds certainly seem to reflect an otherworldly knowledge and wisdom, their stare is direct and penetrating as though they see beyond the masks that are presented to them to the truths that lay beneath.  Likewise, the one beside whom Owl journeys will be gifted with a higher wisdom.  In some instances, this is reflected as one who has attained great academic heights in traditional educational systems and universities, yet more often than not, Owl Wisdom is forged via life experiences which are later transmuted into greater understanding.  At times, this Wisdom is boldly shared and the two-legged blessed to have the companionship of this Totem will often be sought out for advice.  At other times, this Wisdom is very circumspect with the human counterpart reticent to impart the depth of their Knowledge to others out of either a lack of self worth, or born in the sense that their Wisdom will not be fully understood or embraced, and so they chose to remain silent.

Another Brick in the Wall

(Or why I had the crazy notion to homeschool…)

"What did you learn in school today, dear little boy of mine?

What did you learn in school today, dear little boy of mine?

I learned that Washington never told a lie,

I learned that soldiers seldom die,

I learned that everybody's free, That's what I learned in school today,

That's what I learned in school.

I learned that policemen are my friends,

I learned that justice never ends,

I learned that murderers die for their crimes,

Even if we make a mistake sometimes.

I learned that our government must be strong,

It's always right and never wrong

Our leaders are the finest men

And we elect them again and again.

I learned that war is not so bad.

I learned about the great ones we have had.

We've fought in Germany and in France,

And someday I may get my chance.

That's what I learned in school today

That's what I learned in school."

Tom Paxton "What Did You Learn in School Today?" 1962

From "Chomsky on MisEducation" 2000

"Central to a pedagogy of lies promoted by the dominant ideology to prevent the development of a 'critical comprehension of reality' is the creation of 'necessary illusions and emotionally potent oversimplifications…to keep the bewildered herd- the naïve simpleton- from being bothered with the complexity of real problems that they couldn't solve anyway.' That is why schools and universities try to block the development of a more critical education along the lines suggested by Chomsky, Frierre and Giroux, whereby, 'as knowing subjects (sometimes of existing knowledge, sometimes of objects to be produced) our relation to knowable objects cannot be reduced to the objects themselves. We need to reach a level of comprehension of the complex of relations among objects."

Okay, so I am not really sure what that very last bit means, YOU probably do. But, all in all it's just another brick in the wall, right? I believe many of us left-leaning types suspect the schools of programming our kids with the mainstream muggle party line. Certainly my own parents were heartsick when I came home from the rural East Tennessee school with velvet Jesuses to sell for our fundraiser. But they were twenty-something, working AND going to college, what else could they really be expected to do?

Let's all look back to our own beloved days in public school… Did we ever hear Abraham Lincoln's quote about certainly NOT wanting Black people to be any sort of equal to Whites?

"I will say then, that I am not, nor have ever been in favor of bringing about the social and political equality of the white and black races…I as much as any other man am in favor of having the superior position assigned to the white race." (Zinn, "Declarations of Independence")

Or that once upon a time, the Massachusetts legislature promulgated a law that provided monetary rewards for dead Indians: "For every scalp of a male Indian brought in…forty pounds. For every scalp of such female Indian or male Indian under the age of twelve years that shall be killed…twenty pounds." (ibid)

Wow! I suspected the scalp stuff, but the Lincoln quote? 16-plus years of public edjumication (the last four paid dearly for) and I never heard of that Lincoln philosophy.

I remember being a junior in college and having a professor suggest that the US government had funded the Contras in Nicaragua? Huh? I thought. IS he allowed to say this sort of thing? Could this possibly be true? You remember the Contras, right? Human Rights Watch accused them of

• targeting health care clinics and health care workers for assassination.
• kidnapping civilians.
• torturing civilians.
• executing civilians, including children, who were captured in combat.
• raping women.
• indiscriminately attacking civilians and civilian houses.
• seizing civilian property.

The Prof went on to tell a story of how some Contra rebels cut off a nuns breasts.

I don't remember much about my college days, but I certainly remember sitting in that classroom and feeling completely blown away. The professor was so passionate, I couldn't imagine he was making this shit up. I was fairly suspicious of our government even then, but this was too much.

Needless to say, I did some extra-curricular reading after that blow to my apparently mainstream consciousness.

So, do I want to give my children a chance at a completely alternative education? One that finds my kindergartener taking daily walks to the beach, baking buns and brewing Stone Soup while her brother learns a bit of Japanese, knits and plays an instrument or two? Will they be reading seven grades above their age-level? I dunno and I don't care. Okay, so perhaps it is a bit unorthodox. Surely the ex is concerned the boy will wind up somehow emasculated by the strong arts and music angle of this learning style… But I have provided 90 percent of the actual parenting these seven years, and I think I have a pretty damn good idea of what is a good fit for these kids. If I am wrong, I will admit that and try a new approach. For now, I just say thank you world for giving them this awesome opportunity. Thank you all that IS!

When it was my turn to smudge the Teacher, I wasn't sure if I was doing it right. Hell, I wasn't even clear on how to let her ceremonially smudge me only moments before. Was her upward wafting of the big bird's wing indicating I was supposed to pick my feet up so the cleansing smoke could fix up my blackened, leathery heels? Mostly I just tried to go with the dreamy flow.  In my new healing community of love, surely I couldn't really make any "mistakes." But 40 years of worrying about how others might perceive me – accept or reject my Cristie-ness – couldn't be cast off so quickly, Sister-bonding or no. Yet the whole thing felt just like what it was supposed to be, a baby step in my new Way.

My I-Ching reading at the Women's Retreat some week's back was all about "Innocence" and "Stagnation." I asked it if I was supposed to run off to Florida or stay and face the Drama Train's screechy whistle. I think interpreting your I-Ching is like anything else in life… you hear what you already believe.

"Innocence" seems all about acting spontaneously. My "first line" (from Carol K. Anthony-A Guide to the I-Ching) reads: "Innocent behavior brings good fortune. Our original impulse is to remain detached, reticent and disinterested. Receiving this line is a reminder to stay detached and to make no plans to hedge against what might or might not happen; such behavior, which is true to our original nature, brings good fortune."

Now for my interpretation: Don't go to Florida because you are afraid he won't make the child support payments and you and the kids will end up homeless. (Never mind the fact that Florida offers free housing, free childcare, free food and a free ticket to a master's degree!) Also, in the past I would have thought about all this in terms of my fears of rejection and abandonment. Remain detached and you won't feel disappointed if and/or when you don't get what you have asked for from the Universe. As an example, don't tell anyone you are secretly convinced that your kids will be scholarshipped into the Waldorf School. Then, if it doesn't happen, you won't be disappointed and uber vulnerable to others' sympathy at said disappointment. Well, the new Me is screaming from the rooftops that Dusty and Miranda are going to this school I have always dreamed of for them. Take That Old Ways!

Now, as for the second part of my reading – "Stagnation!" Yikes! Did I get a negative reading with regards to my "future?"

But upon contemplating the ancient advice, I find myself doing another little happy dance. Again, we look for what speaks to our current state of mind and mine is damn fine these days so… "on my own, here we go…"   

"P'i/Standstill (Stagnation)

This hexagon deals with difficult and obdurate situations in which there appears to be no progress. (Like when your husband of a decade dumps you and your kids for a MUCH younger woman?)  This hexagram instructs us in how to relate to such times of darkness and difficulty. When we perceive that there is no progress in our general situation, tension and inner conflict arise. The remedy is to disengage from looking at the situation. We abandon neither our principles nor our goals. When we have reestablished inner calm, the clarity needed to put things into perspective becomes possible. Until then, nothing can be done.

The entire thrust of this hexagram is to adjust one's attitude, since adapting in the correct way can cause the situation to change. If standstill has its roots in our defective ideas, following the counsel in the hexagram will counteract the bad effect of those ideas.

Receiving this hexagram also refers to times when we are stopped at a crossroads, wondering which direction or attitude will lead to progress."

So what do you think Rebecca? You are the I-Ching maven. What does all this mumbojumbo say to you? Any other armchair I-Ching analysts out there?

***BTW, a week or so after writing this we got our acceptance letter to the Waldorf School!!!

When I spoke with Kris today it occurred to me that only two weeks ago I called him in tears because my husband had brought his mistress to pick up the kids from the Lake House for the last time. Could that really have been only two weeks ago? So, I ditched the meds. Don't need 'em anymore. My future feels brighter that it's felt in who can say how long. I'm not even waiting for the other shoe to drop cuz it aint gonna. I am putting a lot of love and other good stuff out there. It is my time to shine. I'm ready to get to work on my spiritual practice. I am ready to live the life I have always envisioned but never quite seemed able to bring to fruition. Hell, I might even start exercising. Although if I do this sweat lodge next weekend, maybe I won't need to.

Pondering the principle of the Seventh Insight (the notion that the experience of synchronicity follows a certain structure) I am trying to answer so many of my life's puzzles with a mind toward my gut feelings. Hunches, intuitions, following my heart - using my experiences and trusting the ways they make me feel to design my own path. What teachers should I listen to? What books should I read?

Today I am exploring my new town, jotting in my journal, sans kids who are with their other family frolicking in the forest at Tahuya. I find myself drawn to each of the community bulletin boards sticking out on a number of corners. My destiny summoning me forward, I am madly scribbling e-mail addys, phone numbers and brief descriptions.

www.GlobalSourceNetwork.org

www.compassionatelistening.org

Lora Jansson-Shaman's Journey

www.bitv.org

art exhibits, bluegrass festivals, kids' karate and yoga in the park. Which things will be for me? I hope my impending full-time job doesn't get in the way of all my cup-filling. But, employing the synchronicity theory will lead me to the perfect profession however temporary it may be. Maybe I'll work with the high school kids at their tv station. Maybe I'll ghost write the Shaman's next book. Perhaps I'll go to work with Therese at the Compassionate Listening Project. With the kids in the Waldorf School I'll know that I can completely honor my heart and soul's new calling without worry for their welfare.

Well, I'm off to see what else I'm meant to do today. Tra-la-la.