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

Weather

Another storm is coming in. I heard at four this afternoon and I'm thinking movie and tea and garlic chicken soup will be for me, since I now have a full blown cold. Which I thought was only a little tickle, as I thought I'd had a little cold for awhile. When the grandbaby gets colds, so do I. So staying in and working on the Christmas cards, the class proposal for spring, and perhaps a little work on my book. And also, I'm thinking now, what do I want in life? Since we are coming up on the new year, knowing what I want in life will be good. Since life should be interesting, not drudgery. I am still doing some things that I'd consider drudgery. Even the art becomes that at times.

At the end of the year I like to take time to review what I've done all year and see what new things I want. There is the divorce, that is what is old and done now. And there are new possibilities for love. That is what I'd like this year to encompass. A love interest. Speaking of which, I met an interesting man last night. We went to a sufi concert in the neighborhood. It was interesting to be in a building covered on all the interior walls with rugs. These are imported from Iraq and Iran and Persia: different places. It is a huge space and once inside with the music etc, I just felt transported. And then I wanted to continue to be transported. That makes me happy, moving in my mind to someplace else, trying out all the good feelings.

So today, I can transport myself with art and music and movie, good food. And I can figure out what will happen for the new year. Gardening, friends (love) and good writing. Of course there will be more loss too. I feel something coming. Aged parents, friends, other things. I hope not too much more loss. It is hard on everyone. We could make a pact to envision good for the planet and thus ourselves. To imagine what we could each do for each other and the earth, a commitment for the coming year. I'm going to ride my bike and take the bus. And I'm going to follow through with my art projects, believing in my creativity as the source of my happiness.

Ciao! Flower

Chameleon Tulips

You can still plant tulips, you know! And when you go to the tulip store or to the catalogue, say Territorial Seed Company, you'll find some lovelies you can order. I like Antoinette tulip, also known as a chameleon tulip. Get this, it blooms yellow and then begins to blush like a maiden—that's what the catalogue says—and eventually it turns salmon-colored. Very pretty both in the garden and on your table.

At my ex-house I planted the darkest purple tulips I could find--almost black. Next to them I planted yellow tulips. Ahhh, breathtaking. I have never grown the chameleon tulip, but my ex said (when I met him) that he was a chameleon—what I didn't realize at the time was that he meant it. He would be what someone wanted him to be at the drop of a hat. In my case, I wanted a loving husband that would be there, stand beside me, be playful, good cook, hard worker, smelled good, etc. What I didn't realize is all those years he was too busy for me was because it is hard to hold the form--you know, like the lizard people they say run the government.

Remember how on Star Trek the shape-shifter eventually lets go and returns to the slithering mass he really is. Well, the slithering mass of my ex is refreshing now. Why? You might ask. Because I couldn't ever get it why he was so testy and the look he always gave me—sort of a not-on-your-life look. But now, I'm divorced—free at last. And I have a legal name, got the drivers license changed and new checks are on their way. I'm good to go. And I don't have to interpret what is going on.

What is love really? I think I've been asking this question for a very long time. When I have my hands in the dirt and I'm focused on weeding around my vegetables, I don't think much about love. I just have this wonderful feeling of wholeness and goodness inside. Other times I'm wondering, can I love, have I loved, am I lovable? It's a tough one for me, and perhaps for others. I think the answer is yes to all of these questions, and the right guy will come along, eventually. I also have asked myself if I'm a chameleon. Maybe a little. But faking it doesn't last long for me—I'm not a good actress nor a good liar. Nor do I return to a shivering mass. I do blush like a maiden on occasion.

How about some tulip shopping or daffodil shopping for the holidays. Spring flowers are just so enlivening. Happy to see them push through the ground because it says spring is not far off. Here's a book to help you grow them-- Gardening with Tulips

Happy, happy,

Flower

Libra New Moon

Monday is the new moon in Libra. My favorite astrologer, Stephanie Austin says: "The next New Moon forms on Monday, September 29 at 1:12 AM PDT at 7º Libra. Libra is the sign most concerned with balance and equality, partnership and peace. Its shadow side is codependency and mistaking appearance for substance. This New Moon brings our attention to what we really want and whether we are being motivated by fear, fantasy, or truth."

So I guess where we are giving too much, we can find balance, being sure of our motivations for giving. I had a husband of many years who gave to me out of duty, not out of love. Well, if it was love, it was convoluted love. I guess for my own healing, believing it was love would be a good thing. Then I could settle into my heart in a different way. A satisfied way--afterall, it was a long marriage.

Today the garden is melting, it does this in the fall, twists and browns and melts. I'm not going over there for awhile, as I have so much work to do in getting it ready for winter, I just can't face it. My cold is mostly gone, thank you for your concern, and I'm on my way to the North Cascades Institute today for a down time retreat. I guess it's a beautiful and majestic place, with high mountains and a lake, Diablo Lake. I always wonder why things are named after the devil. That is what it means, isn't it?

I'm doing the The Artist's Way again. I've done it twice before, once for me and once with a group of women. It is a good process to see where one wants to go but stops oneself. To let go of perfectionism around art. Just this morning I was reading about shadow artists. Perhaps I've been a bit of a shadow artist for most of my life, why, I think because I was told I'd never make any money at it. You have to do work that makes you money, that was the credo in my house. Not work that you love and feel passionate about. No, money, money, money reigned. Well, it feeds you but doesn't buy happiness, that's for sure.

Okay, I'm sore today from Pilates. Do any of you do that for exercise? I've just started. It's hard work, all those tiny inner muscles—yikes. They're me biting today.

See you soon,

Flower

Mum’s the Word

I guess this means to keep quiet. Since I turned 20, I've been unable to keep quiet. I read a lot and felt free to pass on the information to whomever would listen. My brother once called me a walking encyclopedia. But think of it, it's developmental right, to gather information. Look at the two year old saying, "What's that? That? That? That?"

That is broccoli raab, that is a zebra striped tomato, that is an Italian prune, that is yellow hammer dahlia, that is candy corn, that is a big boy tomato. Yes, we have names for everything, perhaps more than enough names for everything but love. Well I'm leaping here, and I know there is platonic love and motherly love, unconditional love, sibling love, but there have to be more nuances than this. Love for a friend, love for a pet, love for nature, love of work. Perhaps there are more names for love than I know, but still, not like snow in far north. I love this concept of having hundreds of names for something.

When it comes to soil there is clay soil and peaty soil, hardpan, rocky soil, humus, compost, worm castings—huh, I think I'm on to something here. There is sandy soil, mica soil, red soil, rich soil. I'll have to look into this further. Remember Forest Gump's friend going on about shrimp this and shrimp that. Funny. So my soil is used-up soil. I'm thinking of this as a metaphor for my life and what do we do when something is depleted? Fortify. Improve the diet, add the nutrients, let things rest. Today I need rest, but there is not rest for the wicked. Today Garrison Keillor will be in town with his new novel Liberty: A Lake Wobegon Novel

I have a ticket to the show. Actually, I have more than one ticket and my friends and I will be having dinner and then going to see him at the Western Washington University. One of my friends had a poem read on air by Garrison from her book Small Knots. Kelli Russell Agodon is a fabulous poet and friend and choose my art for the cover. The book is beautiful.

Okay, I have to get going here, cleaning, cooking, showering—and by the way, what are some of the words for love that you know? And soil? Pass them on.

Flower

One Cop Island

Here on Orcas there is only one policeman. That's what I overheard in the coffee shop in Eastsound. And the crimes on the island, basically stuff getting stolen out of cars. The cars don't get stolen, as there is no place to go on the island. Interesting. Perhaps if there is no place to go, we would all be better off. I think that works with highly charged emotional states as well.

Whenever I go to a new town, I contemplate living there. I imagine living on a small island; if I had a falling out with someone, then I'd have to not look at them, or be like Seinfeld when he greets Newman, say "Hello, so-and-so" with disgust. There would always be a discomfort there for me, because I want to like everyone and I want everyone to like me. But that's not the case. My ex doesn't like me—and hasn't for a very long time. I'll just sleep a lot, and then it will be better. If you've read the book Eat Pray Love you will know that one way to deal with grief is to eat. Another is to pray, another is to love. I'm doing the first two right now. And I think there is another necessary element in healing from grief. Sleep.

I'm staying at Moran State Park through Sunday, teaching at a writing conference. It is very quiet and very dark. Something I need after all the noise of Fairhaven, the trains, the trucks, the folks yukking it up at 1 in the morning, straight from the tavern. Here at the park the deer graze in the field. And this morning, crows were grazing too. The smell of the sea is in the air. There is a pace that is slower, relaxing. That is good, I think. A slower pace is good.

Here the gardens are fairly lush. The rain shadow, which is the Olympic mountains splits the clouds and the rain goes around. This probably isn't exactly what happens, but it's my interpretation. Blueberries are a big crop here too, as are wine grapes. I wonder how they keep the deer out of the fields. So many deer.

Well, I'm at a coffee shop and won't be here long, since I teach again at one. So until next time, get some rest and I will too.

Best regards, Flower

Zucchini & Green Fried Tomatoes

There are so many jokes about zucchini, I happen to love it and eat it year around. It is great sauteed for breakfast with a couple of scrambled eggs cooked into it. I add a little salt and pepper and some goat cheese. And of course there is the zucchini bread, the zucchini cheese casserole that my mother used to make, and zucchini pickles. I also have fried up green tomatoes at the end of the season. I don't recall that I liked them much. Sort of tart.

I also like to cook zucchini and tomatoes with chicken; on the stove top I saute chicken legs or thighs with rounds of summer squash, sliced onions, and tomatoes. By the time the chicken is cooked through the vegetables have taken on the delicious flavor of onion and meat. Add a little basil for an Italian twist. Very tasty. For more recipes see The Classic Zucchini Cookbook

Yesterday at the garden I talked to my neighbor and she told me about zucchini pancakes. They are a mix of grated zucchini, onions, eggs, salt and pepper, and flour. These can be fried up and put in the freezer. Then year around you can enjoy them. I would try making them with rice flour or with spelt, as I am gluten intolerant. My mother used to make potato pancakes with leftover mashed potatoes. I bet one could mix eggs, leftover mashed potatoes and grated zucchini and fry it in pancakes. Yum. Well obviously I'll need to make breakfast soon, as I'm pretty hungry despite my upset stomach.

Now for the garden of my life news: I'll be moving my furniture this weekend from my ex's house, a.k.a. my house. So after tomorrow I won't post until Saturday late or Sunday morning. I have a sick feeling in my stomach from all of this, a feeling that reminds me of my last divorce, how sick I became and stayed for a long time after we split the sheets. This one is more devastating in some ways, since our lives were very invested in each others emotionally, financially, and career wise.

I'm working now on trusting the universe, that everything is in right order, that everything is in place to take me to my next stage in life. Why not let go? I think I've discussed this before—well, how does it work? I mean, it isn't something that is physical, like taking the trash out, it is actually a mental and emotional process. Perhaps the why is because I'm so afraid. People say I'm the bravest person they know. Well you know that bravery is just doing things despite the fear. So off I go, moving through the next step, feeling like I'm getting ready to have a surgical procedure without being put under.

Wish me luck,

Flower