About the Oneness of Mankind

Full moon be damned, here I am planning and building on active visions… while I fold laundry, have coffee and train the pups at my feet to feel free to go, but welcome to stay.

In my last published post, I mentioned being in the market for a digital camera after tossing my iphone in the wash w/ the towels. Coincidentally, I am writing this post on my laptop on top of a stack of folded hoodies on top of the washing machine in which the towels are ready to move on in their cycle to the dryer. Pleased to say I do not believe any electronics will come up in the wash.

The room is warm, it is raining outside and I have chosen this moment to baseline myself in Frozen Spaghetti.

sidenote: If you search Frozen Spaghetti, do you get a page or two of recipes, questions about freezing spaghetti, etc?

The idea of being a human in this world, as I understand it, is to be recognized as a specific gift because you have the ability to be spiritual, have a consciousness. The more I have worked at this idea, I realize the grass is greener. I look at the spirituality of waves and or consciousness of trees and roots and I get a little smile… that sure does look nice.

At the present moment, I am planning a little open house for my sister’s birthday which is this Thursday. The home feels good, been doing about 20 – 30 minutes of wipe down, dishes, touch ups as I move through it. The whiteboards are clean and updated. There is a fresh batch of lentil chowder in the fridge and ingredients for hummus in the cabinet… soon to be on the counter…

My experience of being home and my experience of being “a Martha” (to be Christian about it) really brings out my deep motivation to belong and to please / welcome / create to invite others to belong. My core wants you to be safe and comfortable near me so that I can be by you.

And, that is where my life comes together. I retired from corporate life because I was no longer safe where I was. I did not like my humor, my ego’s active protective self. I did not like how I was becoming critical, suspicious, etc of others. I was somewhere, for a long time, and I had not grown in 4 years.. almost 5… no real markers of my creativity in flight, making the world a better place. The reason I stayed for all that time was the platform: that company was access to make the world a better place for hundreds… thousands… millions of people. The suppliers, the riders, the drivers, the people – the world around me was changing and requiring new things with COVID and I was absolutely ready to go.

Let’s make the world better.

And – trust me – I was shocked when the cruise ship of my life actually called my purpose forward. A 7th grader failing science… a 15 year old learning to drive… three new child souls in the household… two new cats… one husband, my marriage. Me.

In the change I have undergone in the past year, I am so confident. Not only in that it is never really necessary to try and explain these things.

Not only in my creativity, ability to listen, and my genuine ideas for humanity.

But in my present moments… as they come… because my actions are lining up to my intentions… my awareness of myself is making my each choice OK with me. I am trusting myself more, these days – even in the things I thought were failures, mistakes or shameful parts of myself in the past.

Maybe this will come out in a Netflix series, my sitcom, or my screenplay. My fiction may tell this story or my children’s rhymes.

But – no matter what – it will come out because it has to as living true to my self and all there forementioned is in fact a purpose. A simple one to follow, at minimum. Anything else requires more answers to questions that don’t matter to my laundry.. to my coffee.. to my dogs.

And to these here towels…

these are the days of my life. :)

<cue Imagine by John Lennon>

happy tuesday, ya’ll. erin

When the girls were learning to walk, I cannot remember a single time they fell on their bottoms or turned a corner too short where I shamed them. I don’t recall ever scorning “you weren’t paying attention” or expecting balance. Rather, I buffered and bumped and directed and encouraged.

I watched them learn to walk.

As I sit here with my morning coffee, I am fully aware of the butterflies in my stomach related to the parenting ahead of me today.

David has office space in our little downtown now, so today is my first day with all five kids under my jurisdiction without the protection of David working so be cool or his live and in color reinforcement for my plans.

A big butterfly is related to the inconvenience of teenage freeloading and entitlement.

Another butterfly is related to the task of waking the household in hopes for some sort of order for the day.

Another butterfly is related to the fact I need to address a late night door dash that was done without permission and whose evidence was hidden in an heirloom toybox.

Sigh.

There are other butterflies too… related to dog training and in laws coming in town, to wanting to carve out my writing time in my new main floor creative space and some other things. The butterflies aren’t helping me at all.

As I walked the dogs towards home just a minute ago, I really was permeating this idea – reminding myself over and over – that how I handle all of this is a choice. My desire for some structure is a choice. My handling of the door dash annoyance is a choice. My joy or lack there if is a choice.

Any choice that feels anxious and tense is not going to allow me to find that inner hum that consistently swings at the proverbial balls thrown to me today with some sort of grace and love.

If I don’t want my day to be ruined, I can’t ruin it.

And that’s when the relaxed but ready stance of the batters from Friday nights Cardinals game came to my mind. The game that kept me up too late and had me a tired mess all weekend had also given me a lovely 40th birthday gift reminder via two really joyful home runs: keep a good eye, a ready posture, beware of distractions and knock it out of the park.

It’s easy to think your teenager should know a lot more than they do. They are a rat in a maze looking for cheese and their shitheadness is being discovered…. though you really really really want to think they know better, they don’t until they do.

But just like I didn’t label every learning to walk tumble as unfortunate or imbalanced; I really don’t want to label every learning to live tumble as lazy or shameful.

I want to encourage and direct them to better choices, more fun and therefore have a fun and more open day myself.

Swing batter batter swing…

Wish me luck 🙃

realistic expectations @ on a little ledge by my ferns – stl.

oh hey – long time, no talk. or – no write. what’s up?

to those i know in real life, in person: here we go. a life update of intricate sorts.

to those i read and who read me online: a deeper thought, a perspective.

since the last time i recall writing, the seasons have changed and two puppies have joined the mix. my oldest turns 16 on wednesday, the middle blended daughter turns 12 on tuesday – amazon delivered a couple of *i really want to tell you* today and the sun is shining. it has been a wet couple of days but, today? it’s glorious. sunny, cool in shade, warm in patches of daylight.

my heart has been leaping all morning at our dream and our vision. two adult dogs walking on taylor dock in bellingham, when we finally get to a milky chance concert, the next time we buy fresh flowers at pike’s, the sound of seattle… the coffee.. my mountain view.

my greenhouse. my rosebush. my rosemary. the deer. the neighborhood. the inspiring corner kitchen garden and the desire to be family friends with the people with banana trees and tire swings.

birch bay. foggy mornings. (did i say coffee) and the kayaks. enter back the dogs. the moss. the green. the ferns.

which brings me back to where i started (in my title) – by my ferns here in stl.

the ferns are getting there. (the puppies have not been especially helpful in this regard, but we are learning and i am praying my hostas’ safety and well being each day. MAN they like to rumble and wrestle in them leaves!) the greens of the green thanks to the rain are like fairy dust in this midwest spring. pnw vibes all the way and it’s like being plugged into a little electric socket.

on the homefront: it is a switch day which means i wind down my me time and personal growth and match it up to the needs of the collective, the behavior i want to see more of from my daughters and the way the house needs to run for my sanity and everybody’s health and comforts to be somewhat met.

regarding the publishing project: it has hatched and is a duckling sitting in a sweet little egg. designers are working on statement of work. village books and i are in a pending contract. and my list of people to send invitations to this summer is coming up daily along with the right hue of yarrow golden yellow for the stationary. sigh. my creative baby infant child. my first published work. an apple off my apple tree. <pulse>

oh, how much more i could write right now.

ideas for the future. on my love for my children.

my gratitude. my husband.

// a song we wrote. //

what i have learned in the past two days, what i really truly feel deeply now and my active intentions for the next twenty four hours…

for the next week.

the house.

The summer.

It all.

But, realistically? It is all so actively underway that it simply can only be expected that we all just live it out and report in on the big stuff.

Love live and in living color.

Ok. Peppers. Gear change. Till next time…. erin