Make Love, Not War in the New Year

I probably already wished you this, but happy, happy again. 2009 is a new beginning for all of us. I believe we will all be spending more time in our hearts. What else is there to do at this point? Fighting is just not the way to go—look how we've hurt each other through the years and still we continue. One of my main resolutions is to be less combative. I think the old hippy saying is a good one: Make Love, Not War. And with all the good that is available to us, this should be an easy choice. Although it has to be a conscious choice. In each moment there is the choice to react or to agree. This is the simplest way to not fight. A generous couple counselor in Seattle says to always make your partner right. There is a little truth in everything—right? Thich Nhat Hanh says to always clear things up on Fridays—so the weekend will go smoothly. Have a little chat with your lover—say what is bother you and be sure to own it—it isn't easy, but it is possible.

Okay, another snowy day and I'm going out for a walk. Time for the exercise routine to get in gear. Get off these extra pounds and get things cleaned up in the house, the greenhouse, the garden shed, the basement, the attic. You name it. All new.

Peace, Flower

Chinook Winds

When I was growing up in Spokane we, even as children, would speak of the Chinook winds. The winds that would come from the south, warm winds that smelled like spring, blew through the night and when we awakened in the morning, all, or mostly all of our lovely snow was gone. So now, we are having a Chinook. I looked out there this morning and mostly all of the snow is gone. I'm close to sea level, so up hill it will remain, I'm sure. But here we are back to our usual weather, which is both a good thing and a sad thing--I didn't get out on my skis like I'd planned. But the sledding was satisfying in a way that nothing has been in a very long time. There will still be ski opportunities, this winter.

As we come up on the end of the year, some reflection on the past year usually happens and then some goals are usually set. What I like to do is keep an on-going journal for New Year's Eve celebrations. Usually I spend some time writing down what I did during the year--significant things. Of course, 2008 was my divorce year. And then I make some intentions for the following year--for instance this year I want to find a new place to live. A place that I can really move into and feel comfortable. This place of 525 square feet is like living in a hotel room. And I pay for monthly storage fee as well--which seems to be a waste of money. To have all my belongings here would feel more settling.

Now that the snow is going I can make a plan to get the leaves on the garden. Mike has a truck, which is a good thing to have when you need to move leaves or top soil or manure. I'm glad I'll have his help with my plot. Plot sounds like underground real estate. Funny--that's what my mortician friend used to call it. I'll say pea patch from now one.

Okay, have a good day and begin thinking about the positive qualities you'd like to bring to life this next year.

Peace, Flower

Hone the Vision

At one point in my life I thought I could live off the land. I thought I could grow and put by enough fruit and vegetables to have food all winter. I could buy the grain I needed and grind my own flour, bake my own bread. I could buy meat from farmers and freeze it, or raise my own meat.

Only one problem with this scenario--although I'm glad I worked as hard at it as I did--I couldn't kill animals and it was exhausting to do a large scale garden with only a shovel and a pitchfork. Oh, and husband. So, I'm grateful for the farmers. For the truckers who bring the food. I'm grateful for all those who work hard to make our food safe, to support organic gardening. I'm grateful for the folks who work harder than me to keep organic food on their tables, to use and reuse, to buy locally.

It seems like I'm very far away from the vision I had back in my early twenties. I even tried to garden on the lookout tower outside of Grangeville. I dug up some land down by the weather station, and planted who knows what. Nothing came up--we where at 6000 ft., which may have been one reason. And I had to haul the water on my back in a black bladder. But I had other successes. I baked my own bread--there was a propane tank; the forest service road made it possible for our tower to have gas--so we had a tiny stove and refrigerator. And did I saw we hauled our water from the stream. Can you imagine drinking from streams now? That was back in the early 70s, when gas cost less than a dollar per gallon.

Yes, things have changed, and I think we were right, the hippy vision back then. Live off the land, depend on community, love everyone. It was a little skewed, but vision takes work to hone. So lets continue to hone the vision. Let's make it a prioity--to live well and to love well.

Peace,

Flower

Acrostic

Yesterday I wrote that I'd made up an acronym, but I had the wrong word. Although GLAD is an acronym, but not like USA. An anagram for divorce might be Cover ID, so to get into Singledom you have to have all the signed and sealed papers. Now an acrostic is when the first letter of a word represents something: GLAD = Giving, Loving, Acting on Intuition, Devotion. Now this pretty much covers what I'm after. Except I could also use Doing Art, Eating Well and Resting Well, which would be GLADDER—Nancy Pagh suggested this--which could be my word for the year. The dictionary describes it this way: feeling joy or pleasure; delighted; pleased: glad about the good news; glad that you are here. Which I like, so I could be glad to be here and feeling the joy while giving, loving, acting on my intuition, devotional practice, doing art, eating well, and resting well. This seems to be a good singledom decree. I'm on board with my Cover ID: Single

Well, I feel celebrated. Nancy Pagh, Brenda Miller, Katie Humes, Barb Crowley, and me, Nancy Canyon—yes this is my legal name now, all had great food and wine at the Hearth Fire last night. (The picture was taken at North Cascade Institute--That's me on the left, Katie above, Brenda on the right) Katie gave me a bag with singledom items including a three minute timer for pining over my lost marriage, a blue bird of happiness, and a post card of a mean looking owl to scare off everything bad. Brenda gave me chocolate. I gave myself a silver necklace, an open circle connected by a silver chain to a solid circle with the word PEACE stamped on it. One slips through the other to connect it around the neck. It is my singledom gift to myself. The circle representing wholeness.

Okay, did I tell you about AMAG, the ascended masters who said I'm here to learn about unconditional love. I knew this when I met B, only I was young then, so I only called it love. Now I know about conditional love, and it feels bad, let me tell you. They said I could continue to love unconditionally, since trying not to love is what hurts so badly. So here I am open hearted, loving him despite everything that has gone down. I told him that so many times as we came apart.

Okay, it is blowing like gangbusters out there, whistling around the condo. There will be no mulching and winterizing today—I'm such a baby. I'm doing my writing instead.

Gladder,

FLower

Happy In My Skin

Today I'm embarrassed to say that I have a little headache from drinking a little too much R&R Whiskey last night. I went to a birthday party right after the meeting with the divorce mediator and spontaneously celebrated the final terms of the divorce. Hallelujah and if there are other feelings, they haven't arisen yet. Well, except for the feeling of an achy head. I'm sure the garden doesn't ever hurt. Nor does it wallow in its woes.

Well, what about that? Soil in pain? Even when it is cracked and parched, it doesn't feel pain—or does it? I may be on to something here. Soil as a living thing—which it is—feeling pain? What could we do about that? Couldn't walk on it, could we? Or what about backhoes and other land movers? What about flooded areas or broken areas hit by earthquakes. I believe the pain we feel in regard to disturbances is ours, not the earth's. Although there are some who'd argue this theory. But I think it is worthy of questioning the treatment of the earth. Loving it instead of disregarding it, etc. Huh, well anyway…

Today I was thinking about planting up that big pot that got delivered yesterday. I'm going to try the carrot netting method—lots of carrots growing in a big pot with a growing cloth covering them. The growing cloth is white and airy and lets the sun and water through. It lifts easily with the growing carrot tops and it keeps the little flies out that bore into the orange flesh. Try it if you live in an area, like the Pacific NW, that challenges the carrot lover.

Moi resting now, Ciao!