The Year of the Dog

As astrology goes, it is like so many things- it has meaning and it works. Some hidden and quiet and some loud and in your face but astrology has not ever governed my life but mostly served to enhance, amuse or warn me.

This Year of the Dog however was to the core very different. I could feel it start to rev up on a cellular level and as the sun began to sink below the horizon the sensation just got stronger. By the time it was about 1 am I was practically tingling.

Something was shifting. I have no idea if anyone else felt it. I know for me it felt big, it felt like the something I had been waiting for that I didn't know I was waiting for. Another one of those spiritual moments that you can't find the words to describe or language to articulate.

So I started to call it a pivot moment because even the words that started coming out of my mouth were structured different. They made sense differently, arranged differently and were delivered with more clarity. I have found a directness, and it seems a bit monumental. So I just looked this up on Google:
A moment is the turning effect of a force around a fixed point called a pivot. For example, this could be a door opening around a fixed hinge or a spanner turning around a fixed nut. The size of a moment depends on two factors: the size of the force applied and the perpendicular distance from the pivot to the line of action of the force.


The odd thing is, I spontaneously called all this my pivot moment while I was shopping and I bought myself the one thing I had denied myself my whole adult life. The one prized and coveted item I had always wanted. I went into the store to just look at it. My intention was to see it in person, make sure it was what I wanted and come back in April to purchase it for my birthday. While standing there I realized that I had spent so much time in the last 7 years in particular saving things until later that it had gotten almost to the point of neurosis that I said, "I'll take it". It didn't stop there. I proceeded to buy a second one as well because it was time to tell myself, and the world that I have indeed sacrificed, and I am indeed not willing to wait any longer. It is time to reach out and have the ever elusive handbag.

I know, WHAT a purse. YES, damn it a purse, actually a purse and a pocket organizer. And for the first time in a very long while I sat there with a ridiculously content feeling, holding the boxes and deeply satisfied. I had waited for over 25 years and it was finally in my lap. Yeah, I cried and it takes my breath away. It was a long wait for a purse. I will always look at it and be glad I waited to get to celebrate my pivot moment purchasing something so monumental, that neither were or are taken lightly.

I've struggled so many times during my spiritual journey with materialism, and my own vanity. As I've gotten farther down the path I realize that the human experience is not to be denied or struggled against, judged or shamed. We can witness it without action or judgement and decided, inquire and feel blessed to have the free will and conscious state of mind to make an informed choice. It is part of my skin suit to be vain, it is also part of my challenge to like nice things. Those bits don't define me, they are actually things that motivate me to self care and appreciate beauty. Two sides to every coin as I say.

It is wondrous to be so moved by unseen forces. It almost felt like an uprising. An awakening. Maybe I will never know the name of it, but I will have a purse to remind me of it, whatever it is called. I am grateful to be reminded that those moments of transformation can happen to me in the most unexpected ways.

Year of the Dog.

French bread pizza and evolution

I was making french bread pizza with my Grandson today and I realized how much it symbolizes my own evolution and parenting.

I've made it throughout my time as a parent. It is one of those food items that kids love to make and eat and introduces them to cooking. You start out with the basics and it evolves over time with their individual tastes as they grow. They experiment and branch out, it encourages self care and all that good stuff.

Today, as we were making pizza I was putting all sorts of fancy stuff I had gotten from Sprouts for my pizza and I realized my own magic had worked on me as well. I was seeing my own evolution on my little creation. I am no longer the girl that just tops it with discs of pepperoni although I would still fancy it.

It was my Mom who made them with me, and I with my kids and now with my Grandson. The french bread pizza a symbol of evolution connection generations and hopefully an enduring tradition. Maybe long after I am gone when the pizza sauce goes on someone will remember the moment like I did today.

Let the Games begin...

We started marriage counseling. I don't mean to make light of it with the title of this blog, it is a considerable undertaking emotionally for my husband. It takes a good deal of personal trust for someone at the emotional point he is at.

I am at a different point in my life. My journey inward began many years ago and I have traveled through the dark stillness to meet myself. I have met many teachers along the way, my most influential and helpful at this point has been Adyashanti, although my childhood rings loudly in my ears these days. Recently I have reflected on the faces of my family, my Great Aunts and Uncles and how often they smiled. Now in my 50's I know the burdens and worries they must have carried and yet they smiled with such joy and were so present in the moments with us. I look at my Great Grandmother with such admiration, a new found respect and my heart is simply overwhelmed with gratitude and love. That is for another post, one in which I can just honor my rich lineage.

So, we go and sit with a marriage counselor once a week as he tries his hardest to unwind 7 years of complex yuck. Trigger words, and manipulation that push accountability and responsibility to the other side of the table very much like a game. I mostly sit quietly until I can't stand it anymore and I put a stop to it. My husband is very much like herding a bundle of kittens when it comes to arguing and emotional things, it's part of the strategy and I know as the counselor gets to know him it will take less time to intervene but for now it borders on the ridiculous.

Blah blah blah she she she and so on. I sit and watch this all unfold mindful of his apparent pain yet sinful blame and wonder when his perspective will crack wide.

I always wonder what it takes for someone to wake up. I remember the moment vividly for me and it had nothing to do with my spirituality, or at least it didn't seem like it directly. It had everything to do with my kids. One spilled glass of milk. I yelled at my child about it and I realized that it wasn't who I wanted to be. My impatience was the ugliest thing I had about me and to undo that I needed to undo a good many things. That was the beginning of it all. That was when the game began for me like a gun going off at the beginning of a race.

It only took one spilled glass of milk. What will it be for him?

Invalidation and the Whole Self

Last night it was another showdown. And it's funny how the mind works at times because in the background was that childhood rhyme, "I am rubber you are glue, what you say bounces off me and sticks to you". 

The back story is that my step daughter and husband had a conversation, which I don't have to the details about, where he expressed the unrecoverable status of our relationship in some sad way. The outcome was she sent him a "cheer him up" gift. We had seen this at our most recent trip to Great America and my husband still mourns the death of David Bowie. The gift card said, "oh no love, you are not alone ~B". BTW, love is his pet name for me. Clearly he was feeling alone and sad. 

I found out that our relations was unrecoverable because I went to use his computer and "found" an email from a friend of ours with a list of divorce attorney recommendations. Honestly, I didn't acquire this information hunting in a devious way, I was using his computer to look up some information for my Grandson, saw a purchase he had made and out of curiosity wanted to know what it was. Saw the receipt in his email and went to look at the description. There in the subject heading in an email was the word divorce, she isn't married so my heart sunk and I clicked the email. The quickest of clicks led to the discovery of the truth, yes it was a violation of privacy which I acknowledge openly. 

So here I stand in my kitchen, the landscape has changed and I am devastated with the recent news that my husband thinks our relationship is unrecoverable, has told more than a few people this and he receives a gift. Obviously there is years of story here but my feelings are deeply hurt. My step daughter clearly is not understanding that this situation is effecting us all in the house and that my feeling are raw and sad, that I might also need some support. 

So later after careful thought and even more carefully chosen words I decided to write her an email. I think it's important in a relationship to let people know when they have hurt you, truly hurt you. My step daughter also cancelled her attendance to my oldest daughter's baby shower giving out right lies as excuses until my daughter presses to the truth. 

My step daughter never responded to the email. My husband however told me that I had no right to write the email. It was none of my business and I had no right to feel hurt. 

He then told my 15 year old step son that I sent the email and that I didn't want him to have any joy in his life. Which upset my step son so much that he made the choice not to come to our house. The hits just kept coming. After two weeks of hearing him say that I had no rights I had had enough. 

Last night he told me that I was responsible for driving a wedge between my step daughter and I. That my email had done irreparable damage. 

Enough was enough. It is simple. For 7 years I have treated him, his Son, Daughter and Mother with kindness, respect, and love. I have given them my patience and dealt with all the situations and problems with fairness. I can't say they have been even ben all that nice to me, and sometimes out right cruel. I have forgiven because I choose forgiveness. I don't wedge, but live a dog's life-today is the day I have. I've made few mistakes and hurt them few times never out of malice or intention. 

Last night my husband called my email dumb. A mistake. And I am being burned at the stake. 

Absolutely NOT. I told him that he and his daughter might want to consider treating me with a shred of the compassion and kindness that I have shown them. That my feelings are just as valid as theirs and that their opinion of my email is theirs but in no way makes my hurt feeling any less valid. That in no way should they have ever said any of this in front of a 15 year old boy, that I had no right to feel the way I do. Teaching him people's feelings are invalid, bringing him into this is an outright manipulation and a despicable emotional ploy. Their inability to show compassion for my feeling is a reflection of their immaturity of character and testament to if I should or should not have sent an email in the first place. I valued my friendship with my step Daughter and thought that after all this time that her and I could openly share our feelings. I misjudged the stability of that relationship. I did make a mistake, one I will not make again.

Internally, I feel unaffected by his comments. I felt a bit like Wonder Woman or at least the archetype in some way. I made a stand. At the end of the day I am a whole person. I did a lot of years doing personal work and sitting in meditation and I still do. I have an amazing acupuncturist that is working with me now to continue my personal efforts and deal with all this and heighten my experience of meditation. It doesn't mean I don't make mistakes, I certainly do but low level emotional abuse is not going to happen here. 

Marriage counseling is tomorrow. Should be interesting. My step Son is coming home today and I'm looking forward to seeing him. We spoke last night in spite of his new step Dad making him get off the phone with me for no reason. Yes, they too are shooting arrows. 

Maybe it's time to summons the coven.

a Footnote about Elisabeth Vigee Le Brun

I am using a portrait of Elisabeth Vigee Le Brun as my portrait for now. Clearly this will be obsolete at some point but I wanted to add a link for informational purposes. I find her fascinating for many reasons. Bringing female artists into focus now is so important, to celebrate them and how amazing their triumphs were at a time when women were not celebrated is valuable. More about Elisabeth

A Woman of Letters

“One must, in one’s life, make a choice between boredom and suffering.”
~Germaine de Staël


Are we not again in the age where we are of need of Women of Letters? Where we have a need to gather in a salon and discuss the next age of reason and enlightenment?

This conversation can't happen in social media or in the ethers. It needs to happen again where we can see the dilation of someone's pupils and the hear the excitement in their voice.

I got here after following a very obscure trail of breadcrumbs. Doing some research about Marie Antoinette and her portrait artist Elisabeth Louise Vigee Le Brun; I bumped into Germaine de Staël. That is the thing about the late 1700's, you run into everyone.

Stick with me on this one because it gets a bit hair pin turn like here. My children and I have an acronym, CAKE, the letters of our first names which we came up with ages ago. When I went to log into to my iTunes account the other day after an update it begged me for a username which was something new. So after repeated attempts of all my old standards which were taken, I typed in "eat cake", in a semi-annoyed fashioned as a play off of, "let them eat cake". It accepted my off handed offer to my shocked surprised.

I called my oldest daughter telling her I was going to run with it and do a personal brand. Having some fun with it seemed natural since I have a "not in the closet" love for Rococo era everything and would take a job as a professional duster for Versailles, painting conservation and restoration profession aside. So tonight I went down the lovely rabbit hole to do up a little profile photo-ohhh rabbit in Alice's voice-here we go...

-Marie Antoinette's portrait artist's name is Elisabeth (born April)-my first name is Elisa (born April)
-Marie Antoinette was executed on 10/16/1793 on 10/16/2017 I found out my husband was looking into divorce attorneys
-CAKE-see above

Which brings me back to how I bumped into Germaine de Staël. As I moved chronologically through French History and the influence of women, I wondered about the telling of women in history as I often do. Clearly it is told by men, the stories from their male perspective. Like Marie's alleged comment of, "let them eat cake". And in my own life, this very moment, I see how I am so miswritten like the bullshit propaganda handed out by French factions. My own husband is doing the same thing right now to drum up sympathy for himself, maybe not nicely illustrated leaflets but you get the picture. Props to anyone who takes the time to do a nice leaflet these days.

So yes, one must make a choice between boredom and suffering. I hope Marie wasn't telling the peasants to eat cake but the aristocracy that spent so much time criticizing her to fuck off. That is the story I tell myself. That is the Marie I wish her to be.So yes, let them eat cake. I have not had a whole lot of encouragement from the people in my husband's family, or from my husband in the last 7 years. He informed me that he didn't think he could continue to do his personal work while living under the same roof as me and that he has felt this way for the entire year. Napoleon exiled Germaine de Staël from France and Marie Antoinette got her head cut off. At the end of the day I would rather be either of them then spend one day being Napoleon, the men that told lies to slander Marie or my husband.

So gather together women of letters to write a history for yourselves that inspires creativity, compassion and a future that makes men want to be a better version of themselves.



"Scientific progress makes moral progress a necessity; for if man’s power is increased, the checks that restrain him from abusing it must be strengthened."


Disclaimer from the author:It isn't that punctuation isn't important to the author. Grammar and punctuation are one of the backbones of civilized society, but it is always late and I don't often proof my work. I am literally overjoyed to get anything posted at all. If you would like to volunteer to edit my work please send me a message.

I moved Mountains

As the vacancy sign turned on and off
with the paint barely dry and the constant sound of moving furniture
I moved Mountains

While images and prose hurled like fire and brimstone from your computer screen
destroying temple and alter, a cat called Judas purring, lust and with a crush heart
I moved Mountains

Surrounded by outdated volumes of habit, dusty excuses and looped playlists for a different couples dance and tumble in the sheets
I moved Mountains

Pig in a poke, smoke and mirrors perfected to an elevated art form
Unsuspecting honesty lay bear transforming into a clash like Beenie Man and Bounty Killer. Salvation and liberation rejected
I moved Mountains

As grief swirled without comfort and words formed without flight, despair took form-it's ugly shape chosen
A cancer, a gun took our laughter and security- it left us shocked and bear
I moved Mountains

Raised by Narcissus and loved by Peter Pan left little food for the boyish man and even less to learn how to feed another
Twisted by lack and greed, out of need and respite-the walls went up for boy needed to hid and stay hidden he still is for the heart forgot the warmth of love and when love appeared out came fear
I moved Mountains

As she laid in the grass with her little wings being poked thru with holes and no haven, she waited-she just needed one person to say no for her to help her repair so she could fly
The seamstress was invisible so she never saw Her face as she walked away without a thank you and still
I moved Mountains

Undiagnosed. Unseen the little boy fights the demons, hungry and unable to sleep he waited too. As the tribe descended in unity, they claimed him and accepted him and his demons, calling them by name and never to live in the shadows again. The boy sits at the feast with the tribe with his new presence of acceptance growing and he is seen. She will always be his Mother now, the Mother of his shadows that brought the light
I moved Mountains

The My collective silently watched with reservation, respectfully hopeful. Compassionate forgiveness of sins with their quick laughter and joy their ever constant companion as they welcomed our newest ray of sunshine. Our little gift left at our door step, the easy smile with sticky handfuls of dandelions. His undeniable commitment slowly eroded by crippling personal unhappiness and still
I moved Mountains

The journey felt long and full. She had arrived at a place of strength and surrendered to service. She had been delivered, to the boy dressed as a husband, and the girl with the torn wings and the child a shade of grey. She went to work and used all she had, emptied her heart, shone her light, remembered who she was and her gifts. She thought she spent her last dime although she was forgotten by them along the way. Then she remembered.

She is wealthy. She has all the love she needs because she has been granted all the Universe has. She was meant to be here for her as well. She learned all those lessons for all the moments to fix those wings and feed the boy and try to touch and warm the man.

She holds the little sticky hand that has dropped the dandelions and holds a paper airplane now as she walks past the Mountain

and smiles

Thank you