Things are Sacred “Before They Are Beautiful”

I spent the last week in Green Cay, U.S. Virgin Islands in creative process, in conversation and – ultimately – in exploration of the deeper colors of life. What does it mean to be surrounded by beauty? What does it mean to be resourced by the earth?

Blessed be the Creator God – who made the heavens and the earth. 2 Chronicles 2:12

Part of this exploration was related to how, on an island, you celebrate the rain for filling up the cisterns, you wait for the sun to power up the panels before you do your laundry. This coordination with nature is and of itself a deeply desired internal rhythm I know I have, but I truly think we all have in our innate humanity.

What child doesn’t want to love and feel love from its mother?

Being in community with women who not only lived this way, but discussed which fish were eating which fish, increasing the big fishes’ mercury and who marveled over who had what trees growing on their property was nourishing and replenishing. Like rain to the cistern of my heart :)

Waking up this morning in the midwest with the type of tan I have found you really only get in St. Croix, I walked my garden similar to how I walked Samadhi by the Sea, the garden of my beautiful host for the week, Riya – a chakra oriented artist whose sculpture garden served as the key dwelling place for me and my creative spirit.

My garden – with it’s patchy weirdness, spiraling thin weeds and a serious need of mulch looked much different than Samadhi by the Sea. Thoughtfully still, I took my prayer beads and charged them by one of my favorite 2025 plantings: a baby rosemary shrub I am going to experiment with sheltering over the winter. I walked my garden slowly, kneeling down, looking carefully – naming what I believe are its main centers.

I moved the lemon eucalyptus and the pineapple sage together (near the “The Stump of Contemplation”) so they could be friends as they will both fruit Christmas gifts for my friends when I harvest their leaves, dry them out and bundle them for smudging gifts later on. I texted a dear family friend and studio member, Kim Joern – a master gardener and herbalist – for insight on my lavender. I danced in my garden when a neighbor stopped on her drive by. I pulled a few more weeds, said a few more prayers, noted a few more tasks and came inside.

One of the takeaways from my trip is a new installation in my vocabulary of the word “sacred” before key nouns in my sentences. Like the gold paperclips I picked up on my first day on island were dubbed sacred paperclips and kept all week in a dish, I started seeing the weird, the unorganized, the unmulched, the unattended parts of my Garden of Knowing as sacred.

My list of next round needs? A sacred rain barrel, small sacred fencing for the hostas… Among other things, of course, like sacred stones.

There is this stoic thought about how you cannot tell an emerald it is beautiful and it all the sudden becomes beautiful. Likewise you cannot tell it is is ugly and it becomes ugly. Rather, the nature of the emerald is that of an emerald, its nature is derived from itself.

As I spent time in my newly appointed sacred garden, in its overgrown honeysuckle and hidden irises, I reflected on how nature simply becomes. It unfolds without rush or definition. More rain does one thing, less rain does another. Early falls do things like late springs, hot summers and cold winters are an active part of the unfolding.

I promised my garden I would write in it. And I saw the process of the gardening serve up a lesson as I walked up the steps again (similar to a 12 hour writing day a few days ago, when I ascended and descended the steps of Samadhi by the Sea over and over and over and over).

“Discipline means walking up the steps again.”

It is my recent finding that the faithfulness to the process seems to be more important than the dedication to the outcome itself.

To allow my garden its sacred nature brought the same wave of gratitude and inspiration, nourishment and knowing as the waves crashing ear’s distance away from the vibrant intentionality of Samadhi by the Sea.

At the 3rd Eye Point, Ajna, the 6th sculpture in Samadhi by the Sea.

My Last Day of Isolation. (The seeming joy of a breakthrough infection.)

When I woke up last Sunday with my chest completely tight after a night where my joints were on fire and I tossed and turned in absolute discomfort which was after having dinner with my husband and feeling like I had been on a Florida shore with no sunblock all day, the first thing on my mind was getting a COVID test.

There was only one other time I thought about getting a COVID test. It was summer of 2020 and we were packing up the house in Bellingham to move the kids, cats, furniture and new husband to Saint Louis. I remember feeling really nervous about getting a test and screwing up our logistics. I had a few days to see about myself, never broke a fever, ended up feeling fine and we kept our plans.

Now, here in the fall of 2021, I was fully vaccinated and definitely sick. One pink and blue stripe later, we were masking in the house, I was isolated to the master bedroom and bathroom and the psychology of being sick with mild symptoms, fine but not fine, and overall figuring out how to handle being excluded when “baby, but you’re in isolation – you have to be excluded” (to use David’s words) was playing out.

I wasn’t sick enough to be nursed, cooked for and cleaned for. I wasn’t well enough to cook and clean without feeling absolutely frustrated (both of those things are really less fun in a mask). I had enough energy to start walking the dogs, but would get out of breath and want to lay down. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I didn’t know what to expect others to do for me. But I knew the answer to both of those conundrums was somewhere between “nothing” and “whatever”.

By Friday, I had convinced myself to treat isolation as a little sacred time. I had used the week to finish my book, Words that Rhyme and Lullabies, and get a file out to the printer for art samples, editor for editing, designer for tweaks. Having that pdf off and running gave me a mental break “holy smokes my book is done” moment and I realized I had the rest of my time alone to dwell.

I started working through some organization.. gathering the material for book #2 – a devotional guide to emotions. I pulled fall and winter clothes up and washed and worked out my wardrobe for fall / winter. I lit candles and ate ice cream sandwiches and let my energy pool back into my body until Saturday night rolled around and I felt up for a glass of wine outside with David.

I spent Sunday pulling and potting my favorite plants to give them a shot indoors. I cleaned out my front bed and harvested my lavender into bundles that are now drying above the piano. My favorite moments from isolation were when David was off of work and we sat out in our backyard with the dogs and a fire and took our masks off. We had coffee on FaceTime and watched a movie synchronously but it was that outside time that really filled my tank.

And now it is Monday, day 9 of my 10 day quarantine. I will gather feedback on my book this week and start forging into the business side of getting the word out there and gathering orders for the first edition paperback of my first ever book. WOW. I will also start the real work of “writing writing” which requires a daily reading practice, a daily writing warm up, and some mining of spiritual thoughts and content. So today – my last day of quarantine, is like a little morph into new work, a new week.

Anyway. I hope you are staying safe out there. If you are feeling sorry for yourself today – trust me – from my little red hen complex to yours, it really helps to remember everything you have in front of you is a gift of some sort.

Even the hard stuff. That’s where the growth is. Name the belief you have that is causing the shit to feel real and see if that belief is worthy of keeping around.

I’m thankful for my breakthrough COVID infection for reminding me just how in control of my own mental health I am by tracing my emotional vomit back to my beliefs and what I am or am not allowing myself … :) I am thankful I was not needing medical care as I waited this out. I am mindful of those who are super sick and alone.

I am glad I allowed myself the space to surround myself with notebooks and hot tea and candles and use my quarantine to reboot and transition.

Yeah. Somehow we made it work. OK….

Until next time… erin

Lavender bundles
crossing my fingers for these geraniums to live through winter indoors!

Garden Dance Party

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Alternate Title: What Protects You?

I had a dream last night that I was walking into a grocery store and there was a crimson red ribbon of color above me, spanning the width of the whole path way. And as I walked, it would come under my feet and fill me with confidence, that’s when I noticed it became a red carpet. And – just like that – it would be above me again. (While also still under my feet, but without me ever tripping or getting tangled.)

Then, in my dream, I heard that this was “the blood of Jesus”.

Now – I don’t really use Christianese language to that degree (yet?) but the women at the church I have been going to totally, totally do.

(And I love it, btw)

So, I have missed the 6am prayer line for a week at this point. I have been sleeping until 6:40 which has been totally and wholly necessary. But – even so – I know the women are praying for me – as I am praying for them, as I lay in bed – aware it is prayer line time. And I know that they are praying for me and my household, specifically, to be covered in the blood of Jesus.

One of my favorite things (but also one of the most mysterious things) is when you remember your dream during a certain point in a day.

And just when I was starting to question things, just when I almost got tricked into negative thinking (by the way, there really are different degrees that your mind can trick you into negative thinking – I really need to write a whole post on that), my reality just put me back on track.

Side note – isn’t it your reality that sometimes makes you think negative? 

I point this out because it was my reality, it was the things that were happening, that curbed that and put me in positive thinking.

This, is proof of prayer working in life. 

I put on a favorite ball cap over my fresh hair cut.

A random song  came on a play list that reminded me there is something bigger than me and it – (cool thing) – happens to be in me, too.

I walked my dog in the perfect morning sun and he didn’t rip my arm off when he saw those three bunnies that live on the corner.

I felt beautiful inside and out. I felt cared for, okay, on track, ready, productive, successful, able.

I felt confident in my ability to get this back to school schedule right in the ass.

(I haven’t shared yet that BTS schedule requires me & my girl grew LEAVING the house at 6:55am, have I?)

And it was then – in this zest of a moment when I was stepping off my mowed happy watered lawn, happy because of all these things, that I remembered that red ribbon in my dream.

So – as I press on in this new season of writing regularly, taking my game up at corporate, raising teenagers, praying my dog doesn’t eat that thing that really is finally a problem, teaching – convinced that there is something bigger and it’s pulling me forward, I guess I just am sharing this idea that being rooted is one thing, but being covered is another thing.

And we need both. We ground ourselves but something else protects us.

Is this the grounding hope and the protection faith?

This is kind of blowing my mind. So I am going to think and pray more on it.

But for now –

What do you believe is protecting you?

Maybe an angel? Maybe the blood of Jesus. Maybe Kesha and Macklemore?

Just sayin’ – to me, in my very much non monk, non pastoral role of blogging here in my studio – it could be anything positive that makes you feel good.

The point is that you believe, energetically, that you have a shield that helps you stay on track and provides you confidence.

And now I am even remembering getting wigged out about work as I have not been feeling the protection on this upcoming project like I have felt on past efforts.

But that wigging has even been diminished by this notion.

Because what can hurt us, really?

“If God is for us, who can be against us?” Romans 8:31

If the universe is throwing me perfect morning dance parties and my day old coffee tastes good? I mean … that’s making it, right?

Whom then shall I fear?

Not a single person, place or thing.

Have a good one :)

erin