Lighthouse on a Foggy Night

"Ouch!" I yelled after cutting myself on a nail. My hand was bleeding, and the area of the cut immediately began to throb. I didn't need eyes to know immediately where I was hurt. The pain told me, my body told me, and I listened intently. I knew that I needed to do something, so I immediately went to wash and bandage it. Pain told me exactly where I was wounded and helped me identify exactly what I needed to do. to keep it from becoming infected and how to take care of it. I simply had to listen to it.

Why is it that we only do this for those moments when we experience physical pain and not for those emotional/mental moments when we scream out in pain? Why don't we listen? I remember once falling backwards on my skates knocking all of the air out of me. The fall didn't scare me as much as the fact that I couldn't breath. I started to cry, and immediately I was told that big girls don't cry. That hurt me even more than the fall. I felt uncared for. We are taught to swallow our pain and then do what we have to do to not admit that we are even feeling it. We run from it. We try to bury it. We smother it with food, drugs and alcohol, and no matter what we do, it remains right there screaming, "Ouch!"

The more we run and say "No" to it, the louder the scream gets. It seems to haunt us, and if we choose to use drugs or alcohol to drown it out, it works temporarily, but soon the scream comes back even louder.

For others our pain is a shield or a badge of honor to carry around to show everyone. They relieve their stories over and over as they show their shields to all they meet. You might think they are listening to their pain, but they really aren't to what their pain is trying to tell them. They simply are addicted to their stories and love sharing them over and over again, so they can gather all the attention they need to feel validated.

We are a world that is addicted to the fear of our pain, and those fears are making horrible choices. We see it every single night on the news. We see it in our own families and relationships; the wreckage and destruction caused by the fears of our pain.

So what is our pain trying to tell us? "Ouch!" It is saying, "I am hurt, and I need you to help me heal it." When we ignore it, it festers and becomes an infection like any physical wound. It spreads into many areas of our lives. You might think that it is absolutely impossible to heal now and it is best to keep running. However, there is an antibiotic for these emotional and mental wounds, and it is the word, "yes."

Yes means that you are not running away, and you are choosing to believe in yourself. It means that you are standing in place looking directly into the eyes of your pain. Yes means that you are asking it what it needs to be healed. Yes means that you are beginning to listen to your needs and take your power back from your fears.

I ran for many years, and it got me no where. I thought the next curve in the road would reveal a much better life. However, that was a pipe dream. The moment that I stopped saying no to myself and found the strength to say yes, I knew that I could survive it. I listened, and I began to heal just in that simple act. I took the necessary steps to support my healing process that my pain told me it needed. Like physical pain I found the correct emotional and mental bandages that allowed my wounds to once and for all heal. Pain is a like the lighthouse on a foggy night. It is the light that will guide us to the exact place we need to be in order to heal.

What it all comes down to is the choice between two words: No and Yes. Which one will you say to yourself when you hurt? I challenge you to sit down with yourself with as much compassion as you would for a dear friend. Allow yourself to find forgiveness, love and a gentle place within your heart to find your way through this. Give yourself permission to be there for yourself.

Sleeping With The Earth

Last night I had a dream, and it's a dream that opened my eyes in a new way. In my dream I slowly sunk deep into the soil of the Earth. Instead of feeling scared, I felt safe. The Earth smelled of that Spring soil that I love to dig into after the winter thaw melts away. I saw seeds being planted and the roots emerge from the seedling as the sprout shoots through the Earth towards the sky. I saw how the roots took in nutrients to feed the sprout as it grew stronger and stronger, but I also saw how the roots gave back to the Earth; nourishing Her as well. Suddenly, I saw this seed planted deep into the Earth, but it grew differently. It seemed angry, painful...fear was in it. Instead of green, it was covered in a sludge. It spread rapidly. It grew at a pace that did not seem natural whatsoever. More and more of these seeds were planted, and it seemed like the healthier seeds were losing ground. They were malignant seeds planted by angry words, violent actions, greed, depression, and fear. Suddenly, the more healthy seeds descended into the soil, as if a collective healing thought was being planted, and I watched it take over all of the malignant seeds. The stronger and healthier the seed, the stronger it was against the malignancies. I saw it go back and forth several times, and if the malignant seeds seemed to be gaining strength, the Earth Mother would call in the rains, droughts, or shake; She would do whatever She needed to do to find balance. This was the end of the dream.

I believe this dream is showing the horrible emotional storms we are creating through vehement, personal attacks upon others simply because of our own fears. For me this dream is challenging me to become even more aware of my thoughts; that if I want to see the change, I need to live it by example.

I hope this all finds you well and in a good place....

Seeds of Life

While roaming around Ancestral Pueblo (Anasazi) sites, I saw this image....a hand extending out from a building offering corn seeds to me. I realized how each one contained knowledge and lessons for life. An entire story came in with this painting, which I am working on recording for the book...but this I can say...as a gardener, the mysteries of life are all revealed within the growth of a seed. I really have no idea what causes one seed to sprout and another to remain dormant. There are a few basic ingredients that I give it such as soil, sun, and water, but it is up to the seed as to whether or not it will grow. I always offer prayers that I was taught to say upon planting a seed. I was once asked, "What are you going to plant with that seed? What exactly do you wish to see grow?"

When it does sprout, I see how strongly it fights for life, how it reaches for Pappa Sky and how deeply its young roots grow into the Earth. I see how it accepts whatever help I may try to share with it. It doesn't say "no" or push me away. I also learn how I need to give it the space to do what it needs to do. If I crowd it, I could break its delicate stem. As it continues to grow, I become a witness to determination and flexibility. The spring winds here are so strong, yet the new plant doesn't lose its balance as it flows with the winds. I learn about creation as it reaches its goal and it blooms sharing its beauty with all of life. The bees, hummingbirds and butterflies all share in its bounty as do we. How can one not take joy in the beauty of a sunflower or the sweetness of corn?

These are a few of the things to think about....Will you take a seed of corn? If so, what kind of prayers or thoughts will you plant with that seed? What will you grow?

Lessons from a Porcupine

The other day I was feeling frustrated and stuck. I live in a very small, beautiful community that doesn't really provide me a lot of opportunities. I would love to open my own gallery, but I just don't see it happening here. Watching the news and hearing about the stalled economic recovery agitated me even more. I took off for the woods just to get away from myself. I blocking myself each step of the way with my own thoughts. I needed to escape me.

I headed down a long forgotten road that the Forest Service closed off years ago. I barely could see where it once was, but I didn't care. I decided to simply follow the path my heart wanted to take, and it was heading straight for a stand of firs way off in the distance.

My steps at the beginning were frustrated and clumsy, but as the aroma of the land started to penetrate my thick cloud of thought, I slowed down and began to see what was around me. My heart opened up to the environment, and I felt my frustration begin to melt away.

I shifted from focusing upon what I thought was lacking in my own life to what I had. How lucky was I? I can drive ten minutes from my house and find myself in this beautiful place? Deep in the woods without any sounds of humans and surrounded by a forest and mountains that I dreamed about as a child. Yes, things are tough, but I love the land. I love it here.

I sat down in a circle of firs and looked up towards the sky taking it all in. That is when I heard the sound....a loud rustling in the trees not too far from me. I wasn't scared but I wasn't thrilled. I wondered if my heart led me to a not so great choice. That is when Mr. Porcupine came stumbling out from behind a tree and into the clearing I happened to be in. He took a look at me, sniffed the air, and then went about his business.

Porcupines will leave you alone if they don't think you are a threat, and he obviously decided that I was not one. He totally ignored me and in a childlike wonderment began exploring everything around us. He would sniff the grass, dig into it, taste it, look at it from different angles and then move on. His favorite find was an old tree that fell years ago. Part of it was hollowed out, and his curiousity dragged him into that hollow. Boy did he have fun looking at it, feeling it, and checking it out in every which way. He climbed in...he then backed up and stood at the entrance and looked in...he then climbed on top of the log with a little bit of difficulty and looked into it...he went back in and started exploring what he found in there. Every which way he could, he became intimately connected with that fallen tree. He reminded me of me when I was a little girl, and how every magical aspect of life needed to be explored.

As I watched him I started thinking about how we all need to approach life with a bit of porcupine's curiousity. Instead of thinking that there is one main way of doing things, we need to remember and call forward our childhood wonder of things. Let it explore our situation and look at it from all different angles, in all lights, and see if we discover any new ways to approach the situation that is frustrating us; whether it is a piece of art or what to do with our art, jobs, selling our homes, how to survive in this economy, or whatever is perplexing us in this moment. There are so many different paths that lead us to the same place.
And there are paths that haven't been walked upon in years, or paths that we never thought about forging. Let that little kid explore!

So as I write this, I have my notebook next to me. I am writing down all of the different ways I can achieve the things I wish to achieve. I am looking at it from all sorts of angles, and I am realizing, I don't need to do things the way I thought. There are many more, interesting possibilities.

I hope this finds you all well...

Sprialing In a New Painting

I have been very sick for a few days, which is unusual for me. Rarely do I get sick even though everyone around me is. I fully surrendered to it this time around, and slept for almost three days straight. I had several dreams, but there is one that stood out. It had to do with painting; a painting that we all take part in through our life.

I saw everyone being born into the center of a spiral. In this place, everyone was still fully connected with the Divine and their true nature. However, as life began to develop, each and everyone of us began to walk around the spiral outwards away from our center. There were different stops along the way for all of us where an image was painted onto us by others or situations we experienced. We let these images be painted onto us, because we were trying to survive, learn or simply we wanted to please the ones we love in our life. We were given instructions by the adults in our life that told us how to behave and what to do, and we accepted those instructions into our lives; thus adding more to the mosaic that others were creating for us.

As we progressed along in our lives, we started adding to the painting ouselves every time we heard or spoke the word "should" regarding how to live our lives. Each time something new gets added to this painting, we get further and further away from who we really are and what we are really supposed to do with our lives while here. All of the colors used are muddy with some brilliant splashes of color here and there as we briefly connect with who we really are.

Something happens that wakes some of us up, and we turn towards the center of the spiral. We begin walking back towards our true nature spiraling in, and we start peeling off all of those muddy colors. Things become clearer, and we choose brighter, richer colors to paint ourselves with as we become reacquainted with who we really are.

If we are lucky, in this life, we make it back to the very center of who we are, and oh my goodness, the paintings I saw were so amazing. They were beyond what any human could ever try to create. I woke up in tears at the beauty I saw and the inner potential that we all hold within. We truly can be amazing the moment we begin to let go of everyone else's definitions of who we are and try to figure it all out on our own. Then I saw how this once again spirals out and causes so much of life to heal and find balance again....

Surrender those masks, let go of those "should's"....and begin painting/dreaming in a better way of life.

Fire....

I have always been fascinated by fire. There is so much power in it....the power that creates such destruction yet creates new life. I fought fires for years in the forests, and I found myself at times standing there in absolute awe of what it created. It is a living being that creates the conditions it needs to live. A fire, when it gets big enough, can generate its own wind storms, it's only lightning to feed it, to keep it moving, to keep it consuming. When you stand within those fire created storms, you realize how powerless you really are. It is a humbling and beautiful moment...and it can be terrifying.

The last fire I worked on was Los Alamos, and it broke my heart to see all of those homes destroyed. I worked on the Los Alamos grounds for most of the night, and the next day they assigned me to put out some hotspots in the area where the houses burned. We were digging, tearing apart...basically doing what we had to do to make sure it didn't flare up again. A bus drove the owners of those homes by us. I will never forget the looks on their faces as I stood in the rubble. Devestation, tears, anger and shock were a few of the emotions that roamed across their faces. I felt so much guilt for digging into what was left of their life in that moment. I walked away after that fire.

That doesn't mean I still don't feel that call, and now I do more than ever. There is a fire burning a few miles from my home. I watched it grow to a major blaze within a few minutes. Our winds were between 50-70mph. They are climbing to the same today. We had to go to Montrose, so somehow they let us drive into the canyon. Bill drove next to an oak brush that suddenly flared up, and the flames licked the side of the truck. The heat filled the cab, and I knew we needed to get out of there. I saw this before, and I knew what was coming.

My sadness grew through the evening. However, it is yet another lesson from nature, from the river for me and everyone about impermanence. Nothing lasts forever, even those places that mean so much to us; that inspire us and create so many beautiful memories. Fire washes the colors out and bathes the landscape in varying shades of greys, and I must say that those grays are beautiful...such different shades with hues of blues and yellows and purples. Greens always emerge where the fire didn't touch. I can see the different ways in which the fire moved and danced through the canyon and into another. A living being doing its dance of destruction and creation.

We seem to forget this...wherever there is destruction, something new is born. I watch the oil spill, and my heart breaks with the gulf. I am crying tears for it, for the canyon, but I do know that nature is amazingly resilient. I do know that she will bring life back to places we think it is not possible. All we have to do for reminders of this is look to Mt. St. Helens where the side of a dead mountain is now filled with life again. That doesn't mean we don't take responsibility for our errors and do what we need to do on our side of it to clean up the mess...to reseed...to save lives of the animals affected....but I do know she will come back.

As I stood in the canyon looking, crying, I heard the sweet melody of the river flowing by and many, many birds singing along to her tune. I know that life will keep flowing in whatever way She creates it....

Earth Day and Art

Today is Earth Day. The first time I celebrated this day as an adult I was living in New York City. They closed down 6th Avenue/Avenue of the Americas for several blocks in Midtown and booths abounded everywhere about everything. Much was about recycling, planting trees, alternative energies, philosophy, politics and spirituality. It was an amazing day for these young eyes that felt like they were at the best feast of knowledge one could find. I bought several books, signed up for countless newsletters, and headed to Central Park to watch the free concert put on by the B-52's. Not one arrest that day, and everyone was in such a joyous, festive mood. It was fantastic!

As a kid I was always hiking in the canyon behind my elementary school looking for the mountain lion that everyone talked about, exploring the plants, smelling the wild flowers, and simply sitting and watching everything. My parents often took us caming in Oak Creek Canyon, and for me that was like heading into the mystical forests created by J.R. R. Tolkein. Of course lets not forget my beloved ocean that I spent countless days of my childhood exploring. To this day I can never get enough of simply closing my eyes and letting my other senses take over; the sounds of the waves, the smell of the salty water, the sounds of the seagulls, the natural pull and push of the ocean...I may have grown up in a city, but I was always an outdoors type of person. When I went to that Earth Day Festival in New York City, I got the itch to one day live in the woods, to let all of those concrete towers go in favor of lush trees, bears, soaring eagles, and the mountain lion that I was always trying to find.

I just got back from my daily hike into the Colorado woods, and I can't even begin to tell you my love for trees. Yes, I am a tree hugger through and through simply because I love them. They are amazing, and every time I gaze upon them, I think of our interconnection, how everything in this world needs one another; that mystical, spiritual web of life. Those beloved trees of mine create oxygen (as do all of the trees within the ocean), so we can continue to breath, and what we exhale keeps them alive. We need one another. We are part of Nature whether you want to accept that or not. We might seem so different from it all, but if you really spend some time in a park, at the zoo, in the woods, or by the ocean you will see how similar we all really are.

My art has always been about this connection, whether I knew it or not. The seeds were planted in my early childhood, and they didn't begin to grow until after my divorce from my first husband. That is when I finally gave permission to that little kid in me to start talking and expressing herself. I think ever since then I tried to show the similarities that we all share rather than the differences in hopes that it will create more compassion and loving kindness as we walk upon this Earth. Maybe someone will start recycling, maybe someone will donate money to protect the lions that are losing their habitats and are endangered....maybe someone will install a flourescent light bulb instead of the old fashioned kind. These are some of the hopes and prayers that I put into my paintings.

The differences? Oh, how these need to be appreciated and loved. What makes us different is where we can learn the most...where that compassion we just developed gets put to the test and grow stronger and stronger. The differences are where we develop true appreciation. They are nothing to be frightened of or anything that needs to generate hate or violence. They simply are there to help us broaden our horizons, explore and accept. That is when we truly walk back into our natural skins.

By the way, I came face to face with that mountain lion many years ago, and she was more beautiful than I ever imagined as a child.

So on this Earth Day what will you do to put the Earth first?