Posted in Gifts, indigo inspiration, Living Water, Winter

Waking Up To Love

I had to hibernate for a while.

Winter came suddenly to my soul.  Not a death, per say, but a necessity to hide away in quiet in order to be reborn and transformed.  It was brutally cold and dark and the only way to survive was to withdraw and conserve my resources.  I didn’t know it was coming.  Rather, I may have known in a way, but didn’t yet have the instinct to nourish myself in preparation.  I wasn’t entirely sure I was going to survive the season.

In hibernation, I shed a skin, a former life, as a fresh me began to come together.  As the ground thaws and the stirrings of new life whisper in the breeze, I’m seeing a new world around me as I, myself, am changed.

I’m opening my heart to Love and health.  I’m opening my mind to pursue new branches of wisdom and inspiration.

It’s terrifying.  As hell.  But so brilliant.  Like beams of warm, healing light breaking through the forest canopy to kiss the needle covered ground below.

The shedding made room for new.  For beauty.  For depth.  For uncertainty.  For adventure.

In slowly, carefully, emerging from my cocoon, and reconnecting more fully with the loves in my life, I am coming to see a new facet of Love’s glorious wholeness.

Love is not linear.

It is a window into eternity.  It is the finest wisp of understanding of the Love of our Creator for us, outside of time.

When someone comes into your life, when you let them in, when you love them, you love all the someones they have ever been.  All the someones that have made them who they are today.  Love doesn’t simply begin at one point and move forward.  It is born in the center of a moment and expands to flow out in all directions.  To the past that made you who you are.  To the future and all the promise of who you can be.  To the depths of experience and the heights of emotion.

A friend told me that she loves who I was because that person birthed who I am now.  That awkward jean skirt wearing teen me is in her heart just as I am now.  It was a deeply healing moment.  Teen me smiled through crippling pain.  Teen me was not worthy.  She was, as Brené Brown so aptly words it in her speaking and writing, “hustling for her worthiness.”  In that moment, my friend gave now me, as well as teen me, an exquisitely perfect gift.  Love reached through time and gave unloved, awkward, unfriended teen me a friend.  A long-aching part of me felt healing.

It was eerily similar to a conversation I had with another friend the night before.  We discussed an exercise that my therapist sometimes asks me to do.

“What would 31-year-old you like to say the little girl you that feels in pain and terrified and uncared for?”

“What does 6-year-old you need from adult you?”

It is always an incredibly vulnerable moment.  The best moments are.

There is very little chance that I will ever have my childhood pain acknowledged by the ones who inflicted it.  But that doesn’t mean the wound has to remain open and weeping forever.  In learning the eternalness of Love, I have gained a new ability to give myself the acceptance that every child deserves.  The more I learn of Love, of connection, I can more readily acknowledge the trauma I lived through, the pain I carry, and the utter worthlessness that suffocates healing Love.

I am retroactively valued.  I can give myself acceptance.  All of my selves and evolutions.  All of the me’s that felt rejection.  Abuse.  Denial.  Worthlessness.  Because I still am and will always be me.  In the same way that Love is, has been, and will be.

And winter will come again.  That is the nature of life.

But this time I will take a layer of nourishment into the cold with me.  I’m feeding my soul with Love and beauty and acceptance.  I’m letting the nonlinear, wildly eternal, all-encompassing, divine nature of Love reach into the dark, sleeping parts of me and assure them, assure me, that I am Loved.  I am worth.  I am accepted.  All of me.

Which brings connection.  And more Love.

Posted in Family, indigo inspiration, Living Water, Thanks for the memories, Winter


Every.  Single.  Day.
Every. Single. Day.

I forget.

Every.  Single.  Day.

The new year is beginning.  So long and good riddance to 2013.  Good things came of it, but it was a hard year.  A very hard year.  Exhausting.  But not debilitating.  A disaster in some ways.  And while I’d not want to do it over, I’m thankful for who I am on this side of it.  For who I’m becoming.

I painted this verse above the doors in my living room.  Where the sun shines in almost all day.  Because I need to remember.  It’s all that puts one foot in front of the other at some moments.  Because without His fresh mercies, I have no leg to stand on.  No reason to be.  No wherewithal for life.  Without Him, you do not want me in your world.  Without Him, I don’t want you in my world.  Every good thing about me is because His mercies are new.  There are surviving mercies.  And recovering mercies.  And rebuilding mercies.  There are mercies for not being terrified to move forward.  And mercies for all the stuff I messed up that’s hurting you.  And all the stuff you messed up that’s hurting me.  There’s mercies for putting it all back together afterwards.

His mercies are going to keep being new every morning in 2014.  They have to be.  Or there’s no hope for me.  Or you.  They have to be because He said they are.  And He cannot lie to me.  He cannot lie to you.

Posted in Christmas, Food, Winter

The Weather Outside is Frightful

It’s cold.

When it’s cold, you make chili.  And cornbread.  Duh.

You will need:

  • cast iron dutch oven
  • lid for the beast
  • christmas spirit
  • a little red palm oil
  • 1 can tomato paste
  • a splash of water
  • 2 TBSP chili powder
  • 1 TBSP cumin
  • 1 TBSP cocoa powder
  • a tad Trader Joe’s 21 seasoning salute
  • liquid smoke to make you forget there’s no meat
  • 1 can tomato sauce
  • 1 can red kidney beans with liquid
  • 1 can pinto beans with liquid
  • 1 can black beans with liquid
  • 1/2 bag of corn
  • 1 small onion
  • 1 bell pepper

Heat tomato paste with spices and oil.  Add beans.  And veggies.  Simmer.  And keep warm until your cornbread is finished.


Now you need: (adapted from here)

  • 1/2 c cornmeal
  • 1 1/2 freshly milled flour
  • 2/3 c sucanat
  • 1 TBSP baking powder
  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 1/3 + 3 TBSP red palm oil
  • 2 eggs
  • 1 1/4 c unsweetened coconut milk
  • 8 x 8 baking dish, greased
  • an oven at 350
  • kitchen timer
  • christmas music
  • the other 1/2 of the bag of corn
  • something to test the middle once the timer beeps

Mix dat.  Pour into dish.  Bake for like 55 minutes.  The recipe said 30 but since I put in corn which was not in the original recipe, it took an additional 25.

Serve up together.  While the music is still on.  Because ambiance, y’all.  It will warm your belly and your soul.  I’m not lying to you.

Posted in Hacktown Hoedown, Winter

The View From My Dining Room Window



or “I am addicted to Mobile WordPress”

Posted in Winter

Something New


Posting from my phone.

I heart technology.  But not as much as you, you see.  But I still love technology.  Always and forever.


Posted in Blogging, Brothers, Sisters, Winter


Blog War!

She’s trying to be better than me.

Well, she is.  But I’m trying to convince you that we’re at least on level standing.

Since it’s snowing, Evan and I left work at the same time.  He followed me home so that (he says to make sure I get home safe) he could laugh at me if I ended up in a ditch.

All that to say this: I was ‘checking in’ on my Mobile Facebook App to let everyone know that I was leaving work so they would worry till I checked in at home.  I want people to think about me.  I sometimes force them to so that when I die, some people will be at my funeral to cry a few tears on my casket.  Wait, no.  I want my body to be donated to science when I die.  After my organs are given to poor kids with terminal organ failure.

While checking in, I noticed that Katie had posted something new on her bloggy blog whilst I was at work.  She plays dirty.  Actually, so do I.  She didn’t even know we were at (blog)war.  Now she does.  And since I can only expect the best from her at blog-bat (blog-to-blog combat) I shall have to post at 6am on the mornings I work in town.


Doesn’t she know I need my beauty sleep?  No, really.  I work reception at the animal hospital.  If I don’t get my rest, the clients find a new vet and tell all their friends that their former vet employed a pet-eating ogre.

Don’t ask me how I know.

And, yes, I checked in at home.

Took me 25 minutes.

And I could have died.

But I didn’t since you were all worrying about me.

Thank you…

Posted in Blogging, Christmas, Holidays, Sisters, Thanks for the memories, The Husband, Winter

Silver Bells

It’s snowing on my blog.  Which reminds me of something.  Hold on a minute while I attempt to remember what that is.

Christmas cards…  And how I never send them out.

Or maybe shouldn’t attempt to.  Because I don’t have people’s addresses.  Because I can’t just send out a few.

I have a disease.  I don’t do things because when I do them, I want to do them all the way.  Like, really all the way.  Which, I admit is marginally unhealthy.  A perfectionist control freak.  With a brain falling apart at the seams.  Yup.  That’s me.

And because I would probably lose the last 3 brain cells I have in the process.

I am here today to tell you this: I have 2 brain cells left.  Tomorrow, I will put 93 Christmas cards in the mail.  1 has already been mailed.  31 are being/have been handed out.

I did it.

While Jim and I were in CA, visiting Jim’s family, his cousin, Rebeca, did pictures of the 5 of us in the park.  They came out so beautifully.  I had to send out a Christmas card.  It seems a little self-centered, I guess, but one of the things I love about Christmas is getting cards in the mail, and the ones I love the best are the ones with family pictures either enclosed or inserted.

So I decided to get them made.  A little Picnik, and a trip to the Walmart photo booth for 28 cents per card.  125 little pieces of Holiday Cheer from me are wending their way around the country and across the world.

It took over 2 weeks to gather the addresses.  I will say now, ahead of time, if I have overlooked anyone or if for some reason you do not receive yours, that I am sorry. Please do not hate me or assume feelings of bitterness towards me.  This is another reason that I shouldn’t send out anything that involves multiple mailings.  I miss things and leave people out and you all must love me in spite of this.

You must.

Because it’s Christmas.

And I love you.