Sacred Sunday

With heartfelt thanks to all my dear friends.

Sober Stream of Consciousness

I haven't done so well with the Sacred Life project, but in my defense, I didn't realize I would be out of town for a week when I began the project. Actually, I thought we were just piggybacking onto Carla's 30 days; I didn't realize we were doing thirty days of our own. So now you know, I'm a little slow that way sometimes. Also, three days ago my camera decided to stop downloading to my computer. I've done everything I can think to make it work and it won't. It's been a good lesson for me though 'cause it's kind of been driving me nuts that I couldn't keep up and finish. I finally had a good talking-to with myself and gave myself permission to cease and desist in my head and just move forward with Sacred Sunday. Since the project started, I've also come up with an idea for a business and that's taking an incredible amount of energy. I'm loving every minute of it. The name of my business isVillage Connections and right now it's a marketing vehicle for Montana artists. I'm starting an etsy site called Big Sky Village which I intended to open October 1st. It ain't gonna happen, though, due to the week away and the camera situation. So I'm going for November 1st to give myself plenty of time to be ready. I'm having a Meet the Artist party at my house tomorrow afternoon for my first client. Since I had the idea, here's what I've done: Registered the name with the state, secured the domain names, created business cards and a brochure, created a contract and inventory sheet, met with an accountant, begun creating the etsy store, talked with several potential clients, planned the Meet the Artist party and distributed flyers, practiced with pictures until the camera went kaput, gotten reference letters from local business owners that know me and done god only knows how many hours of reading and research on marketing and starting a business. On my list for today is to open a checking account for the business, buy flowers and plan the menu for tomorrow, meet with someone who can hopefully help with the camera (thanks Ben!), make calls to potential clients and distribute more flyers which I would picture here, but you know, the camera thing. There have been some interesting synchronicities along the way. There's a local art show here in the summer which I love and always go to and start my Christmas shopping. For some reason, this year, I secured business cards from each artist I bought something from. This was before the idea, so I had a list of potential clients making art that I love before I even knew what I was doing. My friend bought a lot of jewelry on her visit and didn't want to take any of the boxes back so I've got boxes to mail items in AND she left me a great camera she doesn't need - I just have to order the USB thingie. Also, a colleague through my day job has 75 pefect sized boxes he was about to throw away and I'm getting those. My friend, Roberta, has a lightbox I can borrow for jewelry pictures. And I'm realizing something amazing. I don't feel I'm uniquely qualified to run this business; I know it. I have an eclectic background in business that ranges from running a flower shop and designing flowers to having an insurance license to marketing a rescue product. I have the perfect combination of business acumen and design savvy to make this thing work. Since this process began, I've begun planning way beyond an etsy store and have an idea for a product that could be big, along the line of Spanx. Maybe. I've noticed something else amazing. When I let the creative process loose and let it flow, it's like a snowball, it just keeps getting bigger and bigger. I'm reading a great book called "Ladies Who Launch" (yeah, I know, corny title). It's been so helpful because it speaks to the uniquely feminine creative process. I may've totally gotten bogged down in the mundane details and given up on the whole thing if I weren't reading this book.

For those who made it through this entire post, thank you. For those with more experience, any suggestions or advice is greatly appreciated.

A Better World

I have a vision of a better world. I will hold that vision in my heart and move quietly toward it. Anyone can say that the world is falling apart - why should I join them in that negative projection? It takes love and courage for me to see the world as basically good and to hold to that vision. When I see the world in a positive light, the world responds and my world becomes more positive. In this way I allow soul energy to manifest more fully and frequently in my life and in the world in which I live. I will believe in the world today with or without a good reason.

I will create a good world within me.

Let music for peace
Be the paradigm,
For peace means to change
At the right time. . .
Making the flowing
Of time a growing,
Til what it could be
At last it is . . .

W. H. Auden "Hymn to the United Nations"

From my daily meditation book, "The Soul's Companion" by Tian Dayton, Ph.D.

Sunrise at Many Glacier

My Sacred Life
I think this one speaks for itself.

Freedom

My Sacred Life

I may have said it before and I'm sure I'll say it again: Sobriety is freedom. Any time I've chosen to drink since I've known this, I've chosen to reconstruct all my prison walls - denial, fear, self-recrimination, self-destruction, guilt, shame. The really bad thing about those walls is not that I can't get out - I can, it's that no one can get in.

The most sacred thing in my life today is that I wake up sober, I got to sleep sober and I spend every hour in between sober. Nothing else imbues my life with a sense of the sacred like not taking that first drink.

I will be visiting one of the most sacred places I know in the next couple of days with a very sacred friend of mine. I still have a blister the size of a quarter on the bottom of my foot and I could, and maybe even should, opt out of the hiking we're planning to do. But I think not. I'll throw a little moleskin on it and I won't let the foot blisters of life keep me from what I love - literally and metaphorically.

P.S. When I get back, I'll be updating my blog list. There are so many beautiful people and blogs that I've been fortunate to come into contact with during this project and I feel badly that I haven't gotten them on there yet.

Travel

My Sacred Life

I love to travel, but in my opinion business travel just sucks. I'm in Tampa, Florida for a tradeshow for the company I work for, Doctor Down. I love the product we make and generally meet very interesting people at these shows. But due to financial considerations, my boss only sends one person and it's too much work for one person. I get mad at him every time I have to do one of these things alone. To make matters a little worse this time, I had an allergic reaction to some medication which caused an itchy rash ON MY FEET. Then I wore my strappy, sexy, cute sandals to walk to dinner the other night just because, well, you know, it's Florida, and rubbed a huge blister on the bottom of my foot. So now I'm forced to wear my Montana Danskos, which I love by the way, but they just don't fit the style here. Trust me, if you had a picture of all the feet at the tradeshow, mine would definitely stand out. I am not having fun! I'm tempted to feel that I left my sacred life back in Montana - that I flew right away from it on that airplane and it won't resume until I return. Ridiculous, right? Right. I take my sacred life with me, and finding the sacredness in situations like this is when I know it's settled in deep within me and that no one or nothing can take it away. There is one big bonus on this trip. My folks are visiting me from Georgia since it's such a short plane ride away. So my mom arrived yesterday and my dad will get here today. The show is over at noon today and after I'm done packing up I have all afternoon to putz around with them and enjoy the sea breezes a little bit. I basically wanted anyone reading to know I didn't fall off the face of the earth - I've just been a little busy, a little exhausted, but still find time to feel thankful for this life I have. I'll have some pictures to post when I return. Can't wait to have time to check in with everyone else.

Once You're a Pickle

You can never go back to being a cucumber.

I think there are a lot of myths out there about alcoholism, not the least of which is that there is a specific "alcoholic personality". But this I believe is true -once we've crossed that oh so mysterious line that differentiates alcoholism, we don't ever go back. God knows I've tried. Some people firmly believe that they were born with alcoholism and I've often wondered if I am one. Some obviously drink themselves into it. Some succumb after difficult life events send them running to the bottle for relief. But it really doesn't matter, because across the board, it seems that once you're an alcoholic, you're an alcoholic. There will be no more social drinking, no more wine with dinner, no more nightcaps.

This can be a hard pill to swallow - especially in a society like ours where drinking is glamourized and where, unfortunately, a stigma still exists that there is something morally awry with us alcoholics. While it's certainly true that we may do some morally reprehensible things while drinking, I don't think this is limited to alcoholics, everyone does crazy things while they're under the influence. And I guess this is why the 4th step of Alcoholics Anonymous bugs me no end. It states: "We took a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves." Now the statement itself is not disagreeable to me; it wouldn't be a bad thing for everyone to do on occasion. It's the emphasis later on in the book about focusing on our shortcomings and character defects. Yeah, yeah, I know it says something about listing the good things, but that's not where the emphasis lies.

Is it possible that some alcoholics seeking recovery might be better served by placing the emphasis on their good qualities, on what they've done and are doing right in life? I find myself increasingly attracted to Charlotte Kasl's sixteen step program. The 4th, 5th and 6th steps of her program are as follows: 4. We examine our beliefs, addictions, and dependent behavior in the context of living in a hierarchal, patriarchal culture. 5. We share with another person and the Universe all those things inside us for which we feel shame and guilt. 6. We affirm and enjoy our strengths, talents, and creativity, striving not to hide these qualities to protect other's egos. It gets you to the same place, but the emphasis isn't on what is so terribly wrong with us. The extra step - #6, seems to create a balance that is sorely missing.

Just some cucumber for thought on a Saturday morning.

My Sacred Spot on Earth

It’s spring in Northwest Montana, late April, but the winds are blowing in from the north. The new grass may soon be covered with snow – like it was on Easter morning. Georgia is already seeing days of 80+ degrees and spring is almost a memory there. The heat and humidity of July will already be riding the wind. I know these two places. The opposition of the landscapes seems to be performing a strange alchemy, a forging of past and future that equals a present I can live with. It wasn’t always this way.

The sky is small in Georgia. The lay of the land and miles of trees – skinny pines and bushy hardwoods, block the horizon. I was lost there. For years I tried to find my direction, but I couldn’t see far enough. My vision was blocked. The shiny magnolia and the air, sultry with the smell of gardenias, only made it a slightly more pleasant prison. The smelting heat of August made it unbearable. Family runs deep in the south, as do secrets.

Sometimes honeysuckle permeates my dreams. The sticky-sweet smell reminds me of being a kid and pulling the stamen through the white tunnel of the flower. As it slid out the bottom, a single drop of honey perched on the rounded end like a tiny golden world, a universe of light.

Visiting Montana is different from living in Montana. After I moved, I had vertigo for a a year. I was dizzy all the time and the sedimentary soil was always threatening to give way under my feet. Driving down the road, I couldn’t keep my eyes on the asphalt, the horizon beckoned, making the details of driving seem petty and unimportant. The golden summer hills looked brown to me then, my eyes still accustomed to all that Georgia green. Homesickness overtook me often, a blue wave of despair that left me feeling sick with confusion and doubt.

I was running, there’s no doubt about it. Running from a failed life, running from my family, running as hard and as fast as I could. It was all I could do by then. I ran to Montana and into the arms of a man expecting a full-grown woman with instincts intact. There’s something I didn’t know about running for a long time – it’s very hard to stop. My legs and heart were so used to the pace, my effort so pumped with adrenaline that I was still running, just in place. Ben sensed it and expected me to leave at any moment. I wondered myself if I would.

The wind is howling outside, but I am warm. The old Victorian I live in holds me like a baby. She is my protection, my place to heal. She is a piece of the south plopped right down in the Rocky Mountains of Montana. She has found her place here. She’s different, but not too different from the other houses. She has discovered a dignity that would be lost in Alabama or Louisiana and she has discovered an inhabitant that will appreciate her like no other. We’re both very lucky and we know it. It will be hard to separate us.

The sun rises over the Mission Mountains. That is east. On a clear day you can see the peaks of Glacier Park across the lake. That is north. The big hill behind the town proper signals south. West is the direction I was running.

That's an excerpt from something I'm working on . . . . sometimes.



This is what I did Labor Day weekend and this is the land I call home now. My little town is on Flathead Lake in NW Montana. Flathead is the largest freshwater lake west of the Mississippi. Flathead Lake shows her moods with color. Sometimes she's a deep blue, other times a coke-bottle green (remember those?) and sometimes she fluctuates between shades of turqouise, dark green, tourmaline and indigo. She can be smooth as glass or have whitecaps and 6-7 foot swells.

I started visiting this area of Montana in 2001 and I was immediately hooked. This is an extreme land. The summer days are long (17 hours) and hot and the winter days are short, grey and cold. Droughts and wildfires are common in the summer and long periods of grey skies and absolutely no sun are common in the winter. "What's to like?", you may be asking. There's an almost inexplicable feeling of connectedness with nature here. The mountains feel protective and nurturing. We're very near the wild things - grizzlies, wolves, elk, moose. I've seen most of them now. Glacier National Park, an indescribably beautiful area carved by glaciers eons ago is only a couple hour's drive.


I never thought I would move so far away from the south, but I seem to have found my sacred spot on earth here. I love the beauty, the people, the extremes and most of all, I love the feelings I absorb from the earth under my feet. In my perfect world, I would be able to live here and visit Georgia two or three times a year for a month or so at a time. My work situation doesn't allow for that now, but, hey, I'm working on it.

By the way, I love showing people this area of Montana. So if you're ever in the area, let me know!

Virgo New Moon

Virgo is the get-it-in-order, clean-it-out and put-it-away sign. Virgo rules the 6th house, the House of Service and Health. This new moon was accompanied by a partial solar eclipse which always packs an extra punch. Eclipses set events in motion that will continue to play out until the next eclipse season - six months away. This is an especially important new moon for me as I'm starting a business. It's a service business, a way I hope to use the special talents and skills I possess to connect people and products that otherwise wouldn't connect. I can't think of a better moon to begin this particular undertaking. New moons are always auspicious for beginnings and for a service-oriented business, this one is ideal. I didn't plan it that way. I love astrology, but you won't see me planning my life around it. It's always interesting, though, when the astrology fits the circumstances so well and it adds to the already heady sense of optimism I feel about the project. If it crosses your mind, please include Village Connections in your prayers and meditation.

Tribute

My Sacred Life

I ordered this "In Memory" candle from Zena Moon with the intention of saving it for a gift. I had no idea it would arrive so soon (great customer service, Carla!) or that I would decide to use it in remembrance of the victims of 9/11. So I lit the candle this morning, bowed my head for a few moments and then snapped a picture. And every time I light the candle I will remember, and then I will go out and live fearlessly, joyfully, compassionately and with love as my guide. I will live that way and that will be my tribute to those that lost their lives and all the rest of us who lost our innocence.

New Moon in Virgo and Solar Eclipse post coming tonight.

Kitty Love

My Sacred Life

Kisster, the precious faced little dilute tortie on the right I adopted while I was still in Georgia. What a bill of goods I got sold with her! I got her home only to find out she has some weird condition that causes her to cough like she's trying to cough her insides out. She takes medication for it, but we're always trying to keep it under control and just barely doing it. It doesn't seem to affect her too badly, but that coughing is awful. Also, I was informed that she was spayed, but about a year after moving to Montana, she started getting a little round in the middle, if ya know what I mean. Now, I gotta admit I was really mad at the folks I adopted her from about this, but as with most things, it turned out alright. I was with her when she gave birth which was a very cool experience, we got to have 4 cute little fuzzballs running around the apartment for a few weeks, providing days upon days of entertainment, and we managed to find them all homes. (Don't mention the one that ended up hawk food - we think.)

The other one - Tuner is fairly new to our home. Tuner was so named by her previous owner because she'd sit on his shoulder and help him tune his guitar. She's still fairly young - under 2 years old and has a lot of kitten in her. It's hard to get her to sit still for a picture! She and Kisster did not do well at first and actually I think they still pretty much just tolerate each other. In the past, I've had male cats - I think Kisster was my first female. I've always heard not to put two grown females together and now I know why!

In my opinion, cats are the greatest housemates in the world. They can take care of themselves for a few days at a time. They take their own baths. They are loving, but not needy. They make great sounds and vibrations from their bodies that feel great to my body. My life is a lot more sacred and a lot more fun with these two around.

The "G" Word

Gratitude is, well, it's like the background music of my life. It's true, some days I'm more grateful than others, some days it can be hard to find gratitude in the midst of feelings of stress, or loneliness, or fatigue, or pain. Part of maturing is knowing that despite the everyday, regular, run-of-the-mill ups and downs of life, I have so much to be grateful for. I was born into a loving and close family; I've had wonderful and great friends my entire life; I live in a beautiful part of the country; I make enough of a living; I'm healthy; my family is healthy; I've never had to go a day without food unless I wanted to; I'm sober; I have two great housemates that live for two things: love & food. What it boils down to is that I'm sincerely happy to be alive. Now, there were a lot of times, especially during my days of heavy drinking, that not only was I not happy to be alive but I really thought I'd rather be dead. And that's what I still have trouble with being ashamed of -- that I failed to recognize life for the gift that it is for so long. That I was so damned stupid. So I make living amends around that by being grateful for life today, despite all the mistakes and screw-ups, the memories that make me cringe and the fact that it's all so very temporary, beautiful and heart-breaking. Or maybe because it's all so very temporary, beautiful and heartbreaking. I seem to have embraced the mystery without even knowing I was doing it. Recognizing that makes my life sacred.
P. S. I tried to get that damn picture to look right about 10 times. Oh well.

Abundant Mother

My Sacred Life

Food is an important part of my life and my recovery. There are a lot of reasons for this, but the primary reason is because eating is enjoyable! And my recovery is about the integration of as much joy as I can possibly fit into my life. I'm finding out that's a lot.

Preparing and eating fresh, healthy, healing food from the Abundant Mother is a sacred act that enriches my life. I also have political reasons for eating, shopping and cooking the way I do. I believe that our agricultural methods, BIG FOOD, are a major source of the depletion of the earth, local economies and the vast disparity between the have's and the have not's. I buy organic vegetables from a local farmer in the growing season here. I also buy organic vegetables from the local health food store and eggs, chickens and vegetables from the Hutterites, a religious community similar to the Amish.

I eat much more mindfully than I ever have and I have begun to offer a "thank you" to the earth and the creator before each meal. It's silent. No one has to know but me, the earth and the creator. When I moved from a heavily populated area to the area I live in now, there were hardly any fast-food restaurants available and especially in winter, very few restaurants of any kind that stayed open on a regular basis. Things are a little different here than they are in the rest of America and thank goddess! Had eating remained as easy as it had always been, I'm not sure it would have ever become the source of delight and nurturance that it is for me now.

The dish in the picture is Curried Chicken Salad and it is so very yummy! Let me know if you like it.

Curried Chicken Salad

INGREDIENTS:

6 slices bacon
3 cups diced cooked chicken
1/2 cup chopped celery
1 cup seedless grapes
1 cup mayonnaise
2 tablespoons red onion minced
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
1/2 to 1 teaspoon curry powder
salt & pepper to taste

DIRECTIONS:

1. Cook bacon over medium high heat until evenly brown. Crumble and set aside.
2. In a large bowl, combine chicken, bacon, celery and grapes.
3. Prepare the dressing in a small bowl by whisking together the mayonnaise, onion, lemon juice, Worcestershire sauce, curry, salt and pepper. Pour over salad and toss well.
4. Chill for about an hour to allow the curry to settle. Serve and Enjoy!

Oh - obviously I placed on a bed of mixed field greens and garnished with fresh cherry tomotoes. Yum. Yum.

Sisters

My Sacred Life
Wow. Look at us? Aren't we something? That picture was taken, oh, about 30 years ago I guess. That's me on the left, not looking at the camera. And those are my sisters. If anything in this world connects me to spirit, it's my relationship with these two women. We've been through a lot together: marriages, divorces, births, deaths, surgeries, addictions, ecstasy, despair. You know, the usual suspects. Pam (she's the sly looking one in the middle) will be a grandma soon and Cindy (the pretty blonde) has a boy in middle school and a girl in high school. They both live in Georgia, within a couple of miles of my parents who've been married almost 50 years now.

As time marches on with all it's attendant ups and downs, the bond I have with my sisters only deepens. I see this same relationship between my mom and her sister, Carold. And I know how fortunate I am. I know not all sibling relationships follow the course ours has.

Pam can tell a dirty joke with the best of them; she inherited that from our granny, who thought everything funny and just the tiniest bit raunchy was just so rich. Cindy has always been quite the earth mother, interested in animals and the environment, politically aware and savvy. We're different in so many ways, but you can tell we're sisters. By our laugh; by some of our mannerisms; by the drop-dead-right-where-you-are look we can give. Pam & I share the same nose and where the hell it came from, I'll never know - some long forgotten ancestor I suppose. Cindy & Pam share the bond of motherhood and sometimes I'm a little bit jealous about that. Hey, that's sisterhood.

We've become strong women individually, but we will always be stronger together. Having these two as sisters is one of the best things that's happened to me in this life and I had absolutely nothing to do with it. I could call myself lucky, but this is one area where I tend to think divinity probably played a hand.

I love ya'll.

Sanctuary

See that new icon over there to the left? The one above my picture that says Sacred Life? That will connect you to Carla Blazek's blog Zena Musings and an explanation of the Sacred Life project. Carla is posting a picture every day for a month (she began on August 18 so I'm a little late getting started) that portrays some part of her daily life that helps her connect with spirit. She's inviting other bloggers to do the same. It's a beautiful way of connecting bloggers with each other and I've enjoyed browsing the other participant's sites. Anyone who wants to participate can sign up there and join her in this fantastic project.

I've been playing around with a camera and taking some pictures to start putting on Eclectic Recovery. I'm a real novice at this however and due to the extreme frustration that can descend on me when I'm initially getting started with really technical things, I've been putting it off. I figured this would be a great way to get started and also to support Carla by participating and connecting to her blog.

Now, just so you know I wasn't projecting my frustration needlessly, I worked over two hours getting this first post and photo up….and I was frustrated as all hell. But this morning the frustration has been replaced by a sense of accomplishment and pride at sticking with it even though I wanted to smash the computer with a sledgehammer a couple of times! I'm glad to have the opportunity to share the things in my life that contribute to my connection with spirit. Here's the first image: Please don't laugh where I can hear you.


I'm lucky enough to live in a home that I call sanctuary. My house (well, it's technically not mine, but it should be so I'm practicing creative visualization in my language) is very southern in look and feel. It's got a wonderful front porch and even though it's glassed in, it still reminds me of the front porches on houses in the south. It's a relief every evening to come home to this beautiful place and leave the hustle and bustle of the outside world behind. This house embraced me at a time when I badly needed embracing. It is my sanctuary, my refuge, my little pocket of sanity in an insane world. That chestnut tree that is starting to golden is the protector spirit that watchs over me. Those two kitties on the walkway? Well, you'll be seeing more of them.

H.A.L.T.

Okay. I way overdid it yesterday. And as much as I hate pithy little sayings and acronyms, I’m realizing that for purely pragmatic reasons, they actually come in handy. For instance, H.A.L.T. – an acronym for Hungry, Angry, Lonely and Tired – as in don’t let yourself get too hungry, angry, lonely or tired. I think this is good advice for anyone to follow, but for alcoholics and addicts it can be a lifesaver. Hunger, anger, loneliness and fatigue are just a few of the things we in recovery call “triggers.” They’re called triggers because they can trigger us to think that taking a drink or a drug would somehow improve whatever uncomfortable situation we find ourselves in. Of course, taking a drink or a drug would dramatically make our situation about a million times worse! But here’s the catch: it doesn’t seem that way. And that’s how you know you’ve entered the twilight zone of recovery. In the twilight zone, nothing makes sense. Life begins to feel like a giant carnival funhouse and everyone starts to look like they’re reflected in one of those crazy distortion mirrors. Sometimes a trigger can take us totally by surprise, like when we suddenly get a whiff of beer or pot we weren’t expecting, or when we realize we can actually taste the vodka they’re pouring into the glass on television . Other times, it’s a slow build-up. We don’t sleep for a few nights, we find we’re not getting along with friends or co-workers, we face a setback through rejection, job failure or illness – and before we realize it, man, that drink sounds good.

I wish I had remembered H.A.L.T. before I woke up and realized I had worked myself way too hard yesterday, I’d missed my AA meeting, and I hadn’t slept worth a damn. Better late than never, though. I’ve got the message and it’s loud and clear: Slow down and take care of yourself before you find yourself with a drink in your hand.

The Phone Call

do-do-do-do-DU-do, do-do-do-do-DU-do. There's that sound again, the one I'm either waiting for or dreading. The one I always have to dig around in the bowels of my way-too-large purse to find, rummaging through receipts, wallet, makeup, bills and pills. (well, not so many pills these days.) There! Caught it just before the last ring - after that one you get to hear the recording of my sweet southern voice instead of my real sweet southern voice.

"Hello."

"Well, you're going to have a great-nephew." (My sister, Pam.)

This does not compute as I have never actually thought of the baby my niece is going to have in exactly that way before. Wait. I'm not . . .mature enough to be a great-aunt, I haven't wisened to that point yet. Holy effin' Cow!, you have to be OLD to have a great-anything! (Can you say denial? Ah, my sweet protectress.)

Then,

"sniff"

"Are you crying?"

"Yeauss!" Sob, sob, snort, sniff.

"So ya'll found out today?"

"Yeauss!" Wail, sob, sob, snort, sniffle.

"Congratulations! Is Coley there?" (Coley is the mother of this soon-to-be great nephew of mine.)

"Yeauss. She says I can't call anybody else unless I stop crying, but I don't think I can!" Wail, wail, snort, sob.

I'm laughing so hard by now I can hardly breathe. (The women in my family can do hysteria in a myriad of ways.) (Poor little fella - he has no idea what he's getting into.)

Ain't life grand?