Lean in.

  

I got a strong message the other day from my ‘tree’. With all the swirling politics and anger and fear around me, I knew I needed some wisdom. So I walked into the woods, planted my feet on the ground around the roots of one of my favorite Cedar trees. 

And I listened.

As I felt the familiar warmth radiate through my legs, up my back and into my shoulders, I waited quietly for the message. It doesn’t happen quickly. It waits for me to settle into the ground, quiet my mind and honor its presence. 

So I leaned in. 

As my feet absorbed the energy from the roots, my back and neck relaxed and my mind opened, I could sense the message was coming. And as usual, it was simple and powerful. 

And I heard. 

“Lean into the Good.”

Yes. Simple and clear and difficult all at the same time. Especially now. With all the turbulence and threats and fear around us, it’s hard to see anything good. But that’s the point, isn’t it? They want us to be mired in it all, spinning and swirling in fear. They feed off of it. I know, I can’t let that feed my thoughts.

I leaned in more. Head. Shoulders. Back. Legs. Feet. 

And I felt the change. The warmth. The light. The breath of light air. 

I inhaled it all deeply. 

The Strength. 

The Calm. 

The Good. 

It is the energy of the planet. 

It is the wisdom of the trees. 

Lean in. 

Feel the good. 

It’s there for me. 

For you. 

For all of us. 

Lean into the good. 

I’m Giving Thanks, Anyway.

 

Normally, I would be writing a piece about thankfulness and gratitude right now. But this year, we all know, there’s a lot of bad stuff happening around us. And I can’t be grateful or thankful for any of it. 

Yet, my deep in my heart, I do feel grateful. Thankful. And hopeful. Go ahead and turn the page or call me crazy, but here it is anyway. 

I am grateful and thankful for:

 

No pain this Thanksgiving. 

Being able to bake sourdough rolls for Tday. 

Making cranberry sauce. 

Walking through my local park with energy to spare. 

Lifting weights again. (Ok they’re only 2lbs, but it’s a start)

Healthy husband, kids, grandkids and doggy. 

Creating in clay, paint, and yarn. (Although not at the same time, but it’s a thought?)

The couple who gave me their kiln and wheel so I could throw and fire clay. 

People who support my creativity with sales and encouraging comments. 

Meeting and sharing the creative journey with other artists and writers. 

Writing here on Blogger and Substack. 

There, I said it. Or rather wrote it anyway.  

Sometimes I just have to do the weird thing. 

Somebody has to, right?

Here’s hoping this day brings you some thankful and grateful things. 

I’d love to hear yours in the comments. 

What’s Next?

 

Finishing things in the studio and around the house feels good, yet my mind races ahead to what’s next. The ongoing quest or question drives creation and maybe, drives me a little crazy? 

I wanted, and maybe needed, to do a relief sculpture of oak leaves. The face, like the others I’ve made, is a mystical goddess. With her eyes opening outward, a tribal like eyebrow and smiling lips, she feels to me like wisdom and love. 

So far I’ve made her the center of a sunflower, poppies, ginkgo leaves and now oak leaves. Am I celebrating the seasons as I would imagine she does? I don’t know. And that’s ok. 

That’s how art works for me, if I let myself listen without listening.  Be moved instead of moving. See without using my eyes, instead using my hands and heart. Act from my gut, my core, my intuition. 

The magic of making. 

I love to make things, so I’m always making things. That’s the good part. The ideas. The excitement of the beginning. The intense focus and joy of rolling and cutting and putting pieces in place one by one. I am always oblivious to the mess in the moment and while I delight in the idea, the process always takes much more time than I envision. 

That’s ok. Step by step the pieces come together. My only race is with my hands, the weather and time. Clay is a medium which needs cooler weather and humidity all within a certain window of time. Once it starts to dry out, the working window closes. Sometimes completely. Yes, there are ways to keep it moist and pick up where I left off but sometimes, life gets in the way.

Symbols of power. 

As a nation, we are fighting for our rights, our safety and our lives. So art seems a frivolous action. And yet, somewhere inside me feels it is a lifeline, our lifeline. Grounding to the earth, to the soul, to each other. It makes a connection that can’t be bought or paid or taken away. 

It is our common ground. It is a language beyond words. It is our souls reaching out for each other. Whispering in the night: “We are still here. We are all right. We are together.”

Oak trees and their leaves are symbols of strength, endurance, stability and longevity. Because they are big, powerful trees with a long life span, they also represent fertility and wisdom. Along with their acorns, they represent power, authority and victory. 

Perhaps I needed some Oak tree power this week, maybe you do too. 

Change

 

Looking out my window I see bursts of bright color: crimson red, golden yellow, purple and brown. The color change is beautiful. The crisp, cool air is refreshing. Fall is here. But I’ll admit, it’s never been my favorite season. 

Maybe it’s the weather going from warm to cold? Maybe it’s the echos of all those ‘back to school’ years? Maybe after all the beautiful colored leaves, the trees become stark skeletons? Maybe what’s really bothering me this Fall isn’t about Fall at all. 

Changing colors. 

I don’t like all the craziness swirling around us in this country. Red states vs Blue States. People being arrested for having an opinion someone else doesn’t like. People  beaten up for the color of their skin. And the women’s rights I fought for decades ago, being degraded and denied. 

These are not changes I want to see. This is not what I voted for. And I suspect we will find out that it’s not what the majority voted for either. Until then, I try to do what I can to help those in need, support what I want and believe in for everyone. 

Creative change.  

One way I can make positive changes in my community is with my hook. I’ve been busy crocheting Christmas Stockings for my neighborhood women and children center. They asked for 40 and I’m on number 31 now. My goal is to get them the stockings before Thanksgiving, or sooner. Finger’s crossed!

This weekend I joined knitters and crocheters in downtown Portland for the first ‘Knit In’. Put together by a group called ‘Common Cause’ it was a way to show our support for the rights of all people here in Portland and beyond. Despite the pouring down rain, the tents were filled with like-minded men and women coming together with yarn-in-hand to support freedom for all. 

Color experiments. 

Another new experience for me this week was taking an online class with artist, Jill Badonsky. It was a fun, interactive experience. I played along with others mixing watercolors and using gel pens to create fun, silly Autumn themed art. 

I used to paint all the time. But that was pushed aside for throwing and handbuilding clay cups, bowls and vases. Lately, I’ve been doing more sculpture and taking a more ‘painterly’ approach with clay. Experimenting with relief and color is a fun and challenging change. 

Change is life

Even if I’m not ready

The seasons change 

And so must I

Time to see the good falling all around me

 

Sanity Stockings

 

Stitching my way to peace.

It’s been almost a year since my major surgery. A surgery I didn’t know was coming, saved my life. I’m grateful. Before I got the surgery I was bounced from one Urgent Care to another with no diagnosis. I was even told by one doctor, “You remind of my mother. There’s nothing wrong with you.” 

Yeah. After 9 months, a CT scan proved something was really wrong. I thank the surgeon and nurses who really helped me both physically and emotionally. (If you want the whole story, read my first Substack/blog “Easily Dismissed”.)

Crocheting comfort.

Recovery from major surgery is not easy for anyone. I’m not a very patient, patient. I had to have something to do. So I started crocheting hats and scarves. I’d made more than enough for family and friends, then I thought I’d donate some to a local shelter for women and children. When I dropped them off, they asked if I was part of a group because they’d really love some Christmas stockings. About 40. 

I said, I’d see what I could do.

Stocking up or down. 

I’ve never made a crochet Christmas stocking. So I searched the internet and found several patterns. I tried one that is crocheted from top down which means the heel and toe are done last. It was single crochet which is easy but boring. And I hated doing the heel and toe at the end.

Then I found a stocking pattern that went from the toe and heel up. It used a ribbing stitch I’d never done and gave me a new challenge. Plus I got the tricky bit done first and the rest was the fun ribbed stitch.

Recovering peace and connection. 

Months went by and I had happily stitched my way through most of my yarn stash making ribbed stockings. I picked up some great buys when a local yarn store closed but I started getting a little bored with red and white and teal green.  

I’d made quite a few stockings by this point, but I doubted I could make them all on my own. And I’d recovered enough to venture beyond my home turf. That’s when I found a new event at my local library: a fiber meet up! 

It was a lovely mixed group of fiber enthusiasts: a quilter, a weaver and, yes, knitters and crocheters! There was even a big bin of free/donated yarn! Colors like hot pink, blue, yellow and mixed. Oh my. 

Here’s a quote from Martha Beck that inspired me: “Like crazy quilting, “sanity quilting” involves stitching together a life out of things you love in order to stay peaceful, calm, inspired, and sane. “

Then I needed to stay calm

And recover my strength and spirit

Now I’m inspired and peaceful

And staying sane

One stocking at a time.