Does The Village Revovle Around The Child

When I see  my friends with their children sometimes I wonder how it is that I made it through childhood.  It isn’t that my parents didn’t care for me or love me, I mean they assured me that this wasn’t the case.  But my parents never considered child proofing the house, well other than teaching me the word no, often and early in my life.

Some of my friends seem to think the world revolves around their children.  I hate to be the one to break the news, but the world, really does not revolve around their precious little offspring.

Oh don’t misunderstand, I completely get how a parent’s life becomes consumed by his/her child.  In a way that’s how it should be.  But to expect a law office or a university to suddenly become not just child friendly, but child catering is a bit much.

When  a friend recently expressed horror at being asked to leave a lawyer’s office as her young daughter basically put graffiti on the wall I wondered what happened to the woman I used to know.  The practical one; the one who didn’t want nor need special treatment; the one who was childless and didn’t think that status or the status of having a child meant more attention.  Somewhere among the dirty diapers, bottles, first steps and babbling she lost track of that.

When I suggested that I would have done the same thing, she became angry asking what I expected a young child to do in the office.  A gentle suggestion to bring items to occupy the child was met with stony silence and then “why should I have to carry all that around”.

I didn’t say it but I probably should have pointed put her child is her responsibility, including entertainment.  Heck my mom carried a huge purse around for years, not because she  wanted to, but to carry the stuff for me.  If she felt it should be otherwise, she never said a word.  Of course she also didn’t expect offices to be rearranged to suit me either.  And my mother may have felt that yes a village raises an child, but certainly never would say the whole village dotes and revolves around only one child.


Packing It In

I love to travel!  There is something exhilarating about going on an adventure.  Long trips or short trips, it doesn’t really matter.  It’s the thrill  of something new, some different to break up the routine that gets me excited.

however I hate to pack.  I hate having to decide what to clothes to bring based on weather and what I may be doing.  But far worse than those decisions is the dread, the horror, the nightmare of something called packing.  Packing is the bane of travel!

Is there anything tedious,  more annoying than having to cram your clothes into a suitcase that’s permitted on your trip?  A suitcase that can’t be packed full because there will be things to bring back?  A suitcase that you have to haul  with you?  It’s a bit liked  boat anchor, and I dont even pack heavy.

My ideal trace is basically a knapsack or small carry-on duffel.  I guess part of that is because time I fly with a certain airline they do one of two things just for mer.  They either lose my luggage (albeit temporarily) or they damage my luggage.  Now I know some of you are jealous of this star treatment, but I assure you here are drawbacks to it!  Such as never having what you need, what you packed, when you need it.

Beloved points out that this is part of the adventure, but then it’s never his stuff that’s lost.  He detests my ps king and fitting everything into a small bag, a bag I can keep with me.  He claims I look a bit like a person carrying all her worldly belongings with her when I do this and he has a suitcase.

When I travel alone, I like to travel light and haven the freedom of not being left to drag the anchor, err suitcase I mean, around.  Of course cleaning customs and security can be a hassle when you are travelling for three weeks and only have a knapsack, albeit a well packed on, as your luggage.

And when I’m traveling with him  well let’s just say some of my stuff has a  way of migrating (all on its own accord mind you) into his suitcase.  It’s one of life’s mysteries how this happens, but it’s all part of the adventure.  Besides I like to think of him as my personal Sherpa sometimes!


Beads and Seeds of Faith

Gnarled, old fingers worked their way slowly through the plies of beads until they grasped what they had been seeking.  Turning slowly, he thrust his wrinkled hand under my gaze and told me that it was this one bead that had sealed it for him.

“It speaks to my very being,” he said, cradling it gently, but still where I could see.  As far as I could tell, there wasnt anything special about the bead.  Sure it was beautiful in win its kaleidoscope of colors and shine, but magical?  Nope.  Something sacred?  Not as far as I could tell.  But then again, that’s why I was here.  For him to guide me and show me.

he thought it was best I slowly introduce me into his ways.  I don’t blame him for being cautious, after all I came to him as a skeptic who asked for proof.  Unlike many others, hehad decided to lead  me through his traditional ways.  He, after all, had traveled to the upper and lower worlds on a regular basis so dealing with a skeptic shouldn’t be an issue.

shamans have always lived on the fringe of their societies. Let’s face it “normal” people will always be a bit confused and unsure where shamans are concerned.  How can they find helper guides, animals or spirits.  How do they manage to do battle in the spirit world?  How can you trust one who can fly and steal power if needed?

Granted he had to deal first with the fact that I thought his skills were slight of hand and an ability to make people believe the unbelievable.  So while I had been expecting a drink from plants, or perhaps smoke. He instead decided to start with a small bead.

And in a way why not use a bead?  Faith normally starts small, it is typically not something you can prove to another person in the same way, but nonetheless it is as real as the bead.  It is as beautiful as that bead, as hard and practical too.  It’s all a matter of how we see and experience things.  And a bead is much like a seed, nothing huge, but full of wonder and hope, growth and purpose.

Cooking Creatively, or Adventures In The Kitchen

I recently ran out of eye of newt so I thought I could make do with a pinch of hair of dog and a splash of water.  Being new to this who whole cauldron, I mean cooking, I was pretty much winging it.  And evidently my ability to wing it was akin to a lame bird, a very lame bird.

I find my time in the kitchen to be akin to a witch casting a spell.  But the truth is a bit different.  The truth is, my time in the kitchen is closer to the Muppet show.  I know, I know, some of you are thinking of the Swedish Chef from the Muppets and while I can understand that, it’s not exactly spot on.  Nope, me in the kitchen is more like the scientist and his ever so helpful assistant Beaker. I’m pretty much Beaker in the kitchen.

For the record, I am capable of speaking, do not have orange hair and have no scientist to guide me.  Instead I have cook books, television shows and a strange aversion to getting the food just right.

It may have something to do with my inability to know what a pinch, dash, speck or splash really are.  That plus the whole cauldron  thing, but regardless, I’ve managed to survive and even thrive  my cooking.  Because why be boring when you can have adventure and fun.

Thinking Out Loud

I stuck my toes in the sand, pushing back the thought of what all might be in the sand.  I went further down towards the water, not only was the sand burning on my feet, but it was full of ick things!

Of course once my feet ended up n the water all I could think about was the fact that the ocean was full of fish poop and other ick factors.  I suppose the nice thing to do would be to keep these thoughts to myself, especially while we are standing in the water.  But of course I can’t just keep that to myself.  Oh no, I must share my horrible thoughts with him right in that moment.  Something compels me to share it, leaving no dreadful thought unsaid.

he claims I spoil the moment, and well I agree that perhaps my timing is a bit off, I can’t help it.  We are meant to share things with our close friends after all.  And I love to share these thoughts with him.  Mostly because he makes the most hysterical faces as his mind fills in the parts that I didn’t get!

I like to calls to love, he likes to call it cruel.  But he got his feet out of the water and sand awfully fast so I conclude there is some truth to my points!

Head Spaces

Have you ever had a head massage?  An honest to goodness head massage?  I had one for the first time just a few days ago and im still not sure about it.  I’m not even sure what really happened.

I gave it a try as a means to elivaite  a headache that didn’t want to leave.  I explained my situation and was assured the head massage would help.  So with nothing to lose I gave it a try.

firm, confident and gentle hands began sure strokes that somehow soothed snd tamed the questions in my fevered mind.  I cannot explain exactly what was going on, but I felt something within me give, melt a bit and then just drift away.

Did it help with the headache?  Not really in that I still get headaches.  But it helped allow me to relax and loosen up and when you have stress or lupus or even both its a wonderful thing!

Lighting The Way

I have one of those motion detection lights on the garage.  The idea was to have it illuminate the patio and sidewalk on my way to the garage in the early morning or late evening. Think of it as a sense of security.  Except it isn’t.  Because the wind sets the light off.  Small birds make the light go off.  But me walking outside?  Not a chance of that light going off to illuminate my way.

At first I thought I had its set in a poor location so I did what a normal person would do. I moved it.  That didn’t make a difference.  So I checked online to seek ir there were suggestions and so on.  But the only suggestion that kept coming up was to move the light.

Out of frustration I called in a professional to see what was wrong with the light.  He couldn’t find anything wrong with the light or its location, so he said he would come back when it was dark to see what it did. Come back he did.  He walked directly in its path, but the light refused to go off.  He fairly danced along the path that should make the light comes on, but nope.  Nothing.  Nothing but darkness, until, a flicker and then there was light.  Thanks to a squirrel.

He couldn’t explain it, but he agreed to try a new light.  We had the same result.  My light doesn’t offer me security in the way lighting my path.  Instead it offers  me security that nature is around me, nature is still magical and I am not alone in the darkness.

I wonder if I can train a bird to be at my beck and call for this light…