The Change of Season

As with the weather, our lives have seasons of change. Seasons of transformation. Seasons of stillness and breath.

We all seem to love the other side – you know the other side. The other side of pain and doubt; of longing and uncertainty; of fear and loneliness. But moving through these seasons can be, to put it simply, fucking hard.

I have spent an entire career, 28 years and counting, being of service to others. Now, I in no way call this Martyrdom or anything akin to that pestilent evil form of doing. There has been too much giving with resentment and bitterness in this world for me to ever dirty my profession with this type of “ungiving.” I have found joy, knowledge, compassion and empathy many times over – not just in the giving of those beautiful points of light but in receiving them as well.

Today, I am on the cusp of a transformative period in my life. One that is scary, uncertain and quite possibly, wrong. However, it is an absolute necessity for me. Strange how that is – that the present act of “doingness” or “beingness” becomes so uncomfortable that a change, no matter how terrifying, is the only option. But here I stand. At a precipice of my own choosing; at a place where the only light I see is coming from my next step and of those closest to me.

Georgia O’Keefe is quoted as saying “I have been terrified every single day of my life, but it has never stopped me from doing anything I wanted to do.” Well, Georgia, I get it. We all have to be pioneers in our own evolution. Not an evolution that someone else sets up for us or that we blindly follow, but something we can look back upon, right or wrong, good or bad with success or failure and call it our own. It’s up to each one of us to make those small and sometimes monumental steps in our lives that will determine the next chapter and quite possibly the next volume of memories. To give the credit to another for those things just makes it…….well it makes it shitty badness. Period.

I believe in my work. I believe in my path. I look at what I’m creating and know that I HAVE to continue. It’s not for recognition, although that’s nice; and it’s not for money, although that’s nice, too. My true intention is to be of service in another way. To not only create something to give the world that is beautiful, but to also create the beauty within me.

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Stones in the Road

As I was wandering around in the ethers between the dream world and reality this morning, I caught a glimpse of a photo I had taken while I was in New Mexico staying at Ghost Ranch this past January. The image was of a beautifully calm, snow covered space with boulders haphazardly laid out, not by man, but by the hand that created them.

Over the course of a few hours, I realized that the symbolism of that photo was very much speaking to what I am working through at this very moment. I have wide open vistas behind and before me. Without complete trust of my intuition, skills and wisdom, I tend to plant obstacles in my way. Sometimes these obstacles are due to not trusting my own voice, sometimes a longing to have someone along for the ride even if they make it way more bumpy than it needs to be and sometimes, just sometimes, it’s a fear of prosperity.

The fear of prosperity – although crazy as it sounds – can be a limiting factor when it comes to an abundant life filled with grace. We can hold off prosperity for a number of different reasons. I am going to list mine so that it not only becomes clear to me but may touch on something you have inside as well.

1. I don’t deserve prosperity. For me, I don’t go to the place that I’m not good enough as a person. I go to the place where I haven’t worked hard enough, long enough. My work isn’t evolved enough……..enough, enough, enough. All of those beliefs, once taken in and set to root can be MORE than enough to stall the engine of a tank!! When we, as creative, aware individuals are placing our best foot forward everyday, we are worthy of the grace that comes from our process.

2. I can’t be trusted with my own prosperity. I was raised by parents who had the ability to spend their way through next months mortgage payment. They bought big, shiny Cadillacs and yet had very little money in which to do it. I realized through my childhood and into my 20’s that I, too, could not be trusted with money. I had no plan, no budget and very little reality for what the consequences were to my actions. At 29, I divorced my comfortable yet agonizing life and set foot into the real world. Since that time, I have proven to myself that not only can I be trusted with prosperity, I can celebrate those around who are creating abundance and prosperity as well.

3. Some company is better than no company. Oh, how we all want to belong, be loved and generally be included. A wonderful gift of this life is to be part of other peoples lives and truly be able to create rich, intimate friendships. However, some folks just aren’t meant to have a hand in your prosperity. Sometimes, it’s best to do it alone or limit the hands that have the power to form and control your path. One trusted friend is worth 1,000 intentions.

4. What if I can’t create anything beautiful anymore? This is just fear based, monkey mind bull shit. If I am creating from an authentic space within myself, for myself, whatever I create will be a representation of my essence. Agreeing to this fixed consideration is probably the biggest obstacle to creativity that I am aware of. A place of scarcity that few artists can ever come back from once they decide their best work is behind them.

5. My intuition, wisdom and experience isn’t deep enough. Holy Hell!! Just writing this makes me want to bust out laughing! I’m not always right, or perfect or the most experienced person in the world – but nobody, and I mean nobody, knows me better than I know myself. Anyone who makes you question your own deep knowledge of yourself deserves the swift kick out the door that you are just dying to give them. Emotional terrorists and bullies will prey on those who constantly question or doubt themselves. When you’re dealing with one of those, if you are awake and aware, you just feel it in your gut. When you do – Stop, Drop everything and RUN like the wind away from them.

This whole, painfully beautiful, poignant life is just waiting for us to discover it. There will be always be obstacles that can get in our way, some meant to slow us down, some transplanted from others and some that we dug with our very own shovel. The magic trick is to simply recognize who, what, where, when and how they got there; acknowledge their existence and then to take time to decide whether they are worthy of our time and consideration or if it’s just simply time to release them as yesterdays foibles.

Be gentle with yourself and you will attract others that will be gentle with you as well ❤️

A Feast for the Spirit

A Feast for the Spirit

There are times in everyone’s life where an experience may not live up to all that we wanted it to be and yet, with enough distance and perspective, it is exactly what we needed. There have been so many unexpected events that have occurred during this trip – too many to bore you with – but I wanted to share an incredible event that I could have never imagined possible.

If you don’t know, the type of ceramic work that I create is based on the time honored traditions of the Pueblo Indians. Specifically, Maria Martinez of the San Ildefonso Pueblo. Her rich black, burnished surfaces of hand built work continues to inspire and entrance me. To be able to view her work in person while in Santa Fe is like breathing in the past and feeling the love and passion for the work wash over me and into the future.

I, along with my husband, students and staff from Ghost Ranch, attended Feast Day at San Ildefonso on the last day of our trip. It is a time to honor all the gifts that have been given to the tribe throughout the year and is celebrated with tribal dances, music, singing and, well, feasting. It has been said that if you are invited into one of the homes to join in their offerings you must not refuse; to decline such an invitation would be incredibly rude. To my utter astonishment and delight, through my pottery mentor, Clarence Cruz, we were invited into the Martinez home to share in their bounty of green Chile stew, red Chile stew, enchiladas, prune pie, fresh baked bread from the Orno and, and, and……….

As I entered the home, to say that I was humbled and awestruck would be a GINORMOUS understatement. I sat there, transfixed as I, along with Clarence, Rikki and my husband were led to a table and served. My first thought, I should be serving them! I should be telling them what a profound influence their Grandmother had on me as a person and an artist. I wanted to shout out from the rooftop how grateful I was to be allowed in their home to share this precious, precious moment with them. And yet, as I sat there, I physically restrained my enthusiasm and muted it into reverence for the food and the company. I thanked them nothing short of twenty times all the while having a silly, girl like grin on my face and wondering if they could see me bursting inside with gratitude and excitement.

It wasn’t until later that day, while I was sitting in front of the Labyrinth at the ranch and relaying the story to one of the students that I began to cry. Weeping for the chance to be a part of such a special moment, to be able to present with it, to embrace it.

My life has forever been changed by my time at Ghost Ranch and the opportunities that I have received and been able to experience. All of the other stuff that happens along the way is simply just transitory, temporary and nothing to hold on to.

This moment…………well, that was worth the price of admission.

Stardust and Light

A couple of nights ago, I was fortunate enough to see the New Mexico night sky as I had never witnessed it before. A night when the sky, with barely a Moon in sight, was full of stardust. It was as if a giant bowl was turned toward earth and all of the planets and stars were spilling luminescence over everything they touched.

I went to a place on the ranch where I could safely lay down, look up and become shrouded in the metamorphic deep, dark, brilliant space of the never ending night sky. Have you ever seen something so beautiful, so ethereal and touched by the divine, that it physically caused pain within your body? Such a gift from a governing heart.

As I walked dreamily to bed, filled with all things of inky lushness, I decided I wanted to wake early to see the transition from night to dawn. I will tell you right now, it was worth the brevity of my sleep and dreams.

From moment to moment I was chasing the fading of the night and the birth of the morning, hoping for just one more moment of magnificence to carry my spirit into another day. One more chance to inhale the ending and look toward the beginning.

Wondering around since this event, I have been trying to figure out the lesson, looking for the message in all of this. There must be something I could retrieve from such beauty, such transition, so routine for the natural world and yet so transformative for me. And then, without warning, it became clear: everything must end and yet, with the sadness of this, there is this undeniable eagerness for another beginning. Another chance to love, to create, to be present in my life for the transitions that are coming to us all.

No matter where I go from here, I go there taking these memories of stardust and light with me. Without the light of the moon, the stars can shine. With the Sun comes another chance for us to shine.

The Blessed Dirt of Santuario de Chimayo

There are places on the face of this sweet, troubled planet, that I never thought I would visit. Being raised by a fairly pissed off, excommunicated, Italian Catholic Mother, the church and all of its offerings never really appealed to me. I learned as a young teenager the cause for my Mothers hostility and bitterness and, I must admit, I agreed with her.

When my Mother was at her most vulnerable, laid out on the floor by the discovery of her husbands adulterous affair with her best friend and subsequent divorce, the church turned its back on her. She was sent packing – the compassion and inclusivity of that which the church preached was sorely lacking when my Mother reached out to it for comfort. It has taken me many, many years to forgive the church for that. In some ways, I am a more compassionate person due to watching her struggle with the isolation and rejection she endured. Compassion resulting from emotional cruelty – strange bedfellows indeed.

When I was presented with the opportunity to visit Santuario de Chimayo, I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to go. Would my self righteous indignation for the way my Mother was treated flare up? Could I see my way through the enormous contrasts and contradictions within my own heart? I will tell you now that I couldn’t visit the entire site. However, I did visit the vestibule of the church which housed the blessed dirt room where people with all sorts of maladies, whether physical, emotional or spiritual embark on a pilgrimage to touch the sandy earth; holding, rubbing, praying, crying, hoping and finding peace within the walls of that sacred space.

While I was waiting on a bench just outside for my turn to touch the place that had brought so many healings, I witnessed a man and a woman – she was standing barefoot in the dirt and he had bent down on all fours, laying his hands on the earth so that she could lean on him. They stayed that way for quite some time. The intimate nature of the scene was incredibly poignant and I closed my eyes to give them privacy while turning my thoughts inward. I reflected on the support I have received from so many beautiful souls, just as she was receiving that sweetness from her husband.

Walking out, they sat back on the benches and closed their eyes to rest and reflect. A calling to touch this woman was undeniable. I resisted, thinking that I would be intruding into the sacredness of her experience; I resisted, not wanting to feel foolish; I resisted not knowing if it was my place. Through all of those doubts, I walked across the narrow room and kneeled before her. As she opened her eyes and saw me there, I gently placed both of her feet in my hands and began to gently massage them. To be of service, to stand in the light, that was all that was needed.

When I finished, she reached out to me and we embraced – both crying, both holding each other tightly for quite some time. In this moment, this very tender moment, I was able to let go of any lasting bitterness or resentment that I once carried for this way of loving God.

We all have a path to walk. Every single one of them is inordinately opulent, dark, troubled, joyful and as individual as we are. Only we can know which path will bring us into the light. The road to Mecca begins with a single step.

Temporary Times

The land takes over what our hands have laid aside.

As without…….so within.

Visiting a special area of Ghost Ranch with the photography class yesterday, I was struck by the eroding beauty of the man made structures left behind. Nature needed no assistance taking back what humans were finished tending. I took this wandering into myself and realized that without “self tending” we are all set up for an erosion of our spirit; a washing away of our essence barely perceptible until we find ourselves in the darkness of chaos.

I had a teacher once say, “If you have 10 phone lines ringing and you answer one, you only have 9 left to go.” It’s not the size of the chaos that takes us down as much as the inertia of apathy and overwhelm. If we are to be individuals with the gift of self reliance we also have the greater obligation of answering those phone lines. Some calls aren’t meant for us; some of them will have our name written all over them. That is where discernment must step in and guide us to the truth. Take a moment…….listen to the message…….decide if you are the true recipient.

It is a magnificent state of being to be of service but we all might do well to remember that self reliance requires that we also give to ourselves.

I give myself over to clay time and time again and receive multiple blessings in return. What are you giving yourself over to? Is it worthy of your precious, precious time? Or, is it an excuse to avoid your own self reliance?

As within…….so without ❤️

The Beauty of “Ish”

Perfection is a harsh task master. It is a never ending gravel road of sharp wits, unforgiving, withering self criticism and a ink filled hole full of isolation from oneself. It is a the combination of self doubt fueled by exorbitantly crushing expectations placed squarely on our shoulders by the operator themselves.

Perfection is where dreams go to die. It is where we take all that we are and decide, day in and day out, that we are not enough. It feels as heavy in the body as a 7 day donut binge. It’s a drug; a fuel for consuming our desires; a lover who will never return our affection. And then at some point, since we can never attain perfection……..we ask ourselves, Why go on? Why pursue our dreams when it just ends up in disappointment?

The beauty of this Life is not in the attainment of perfection. The Japanese call it Wabi Sabi – that things are more beautiful because of their imperfections. The beauty of this Life is doing what we love to do, since the time is going to pass no matter how we spend it and let the liberation of our best efforts combined with our connection to the creative be enough. I’ll be there around 7ish; it’s finished for the most part; it’s a work in progress; I’m a work in progress; we are ALL a work in progress – and tomorrow, I’m gonna be alright. “Ish” is not an excuse – it is a softening of the cold hard edges of self sabotage. A willingness to give ourselves a pass to the next day, the next creation, the next adventure.

The beauty of knowing we are doing, being and having our best selves within all that we know while honoring our authenticity AND honoring the best within our loved ones – for me, that is of greater service to the higher good of all then following a infinite dark hallway toward the whipping post of fractured intentions and excuses.

Create…………and let that be enough ❤️