Tag: writing

Archetypes

Staring at a Big Muscular Cloud @ Webster 7.6.2026

by ErinLeave a Comment on Staring at a Big Muscular Cloud @ Webster 7.6.2026

Just a few moments ago, I wrote on a blank sheet of paper:

“How present can I even be?”

A notion that occurred to me as I found myself – for mauybe the second or third times today, looking for a thread. The things in our heads: financials, plans, tasks, stuff to do, stuff to buy, stuff to search, things to consider… they are….

things.

And here I am wondering – in a world of things, how do I look for threads?

Little relationships between a moment and my awareness. The kind of thing that makes colors pop, necklaces seredepitious and plants look like they knew you in a former life.

In moments today where I found myself thinking a little bit over lot, I asked myself: do you see a thread?

And I would move to outside. I would go look at the plants. I would take my shoes off. I would consider the cat.

…..back to the present: the cloud almost looks like it is turning circles as it changes in front of my eyes: either a darker part of its past has come forward (fitting lol) or conditions have created it to come to be. Either way… it is different than when I first wrote the title of this post on Frozen Spaghetti… guess you’ll have to believe me.

I am listing to a new favorite artist Hermanos Gutiérrez (been following for months… year(s)?)

My bedtime reminder just went off (it is 8:14pm cst) but the USA v Belgium is on and it is the top of the second half. I have payroll to do, schedules to update, invoices to send, college orientations to drive to, dogs to walk (things) and what has really gotten me curious is the riddle of it all. The simple humor of surrender – “this is what it is” kind of thing…

It’s about ten minutes later than that last paragraph… Belgium just scored its third goal and I can’t tell if it would be better for me to just check out or further dial in. The cloud is now completely gone and I am back to wondering how present I can be… back to looking for threads.

The way threads were described to me (by the way I am not looking at the computer so there may be typos, you will have to deal…)

The way threads were described to me was like to consider a time or times you felt the most alive – you had an experience of a thread. I thought of this day I was in Sedona, playing on BellRock, looking for a hiking hankie I left there a few days prior – it was a light misty rain – the grey sky and the red rocks were insane – the green greens felt like B1w shots to my soul and I. was. alive. I was laughing. I was skipping. I was slidding. I was feeling the cool rock in my warm jacket with a curiosity of a new born puppy opening its eyes and seeing grass, flours and milk. I was joyful. I was experiencing a thread.

But it had me thinking today – threads… if they are really reminders of the big woven universe – the cosmic connection – then… why would we ever not have that experience of a thread available to us?

What if threads were always and everywhere and it was our trained and faithful awareness looking for the feeling of aliveness… where green greens are one thing but black blacks and brown browns are just as capable of making you feel your experience as *a human freaking being* like the yellow suns and orange oranges.

Life… is a thread hunt.

A thread search.

A thread invitation.

A seeking out of the living and alive – the nourishing and the heart breaking truths that bring us into the present in a way that… well… saves our lives.

On that note – I also gave blood today and you should too.

OK. Decided to dial in. GO USA 🇺🇸 ⚽️ ❤️

Partnerships

Sitting at My Desk @ Webster at My Desk 7.5.26

by ErinLeave a Comment on Sitting at My Desk @ Webster at My Desk 7.5.26

It’s funny to be reminded about what I was writing on 6 years ago and seeing a lot of the same things…

For example, this morning I started envisioning 1:1 time with each child (3 which are adults now) as I drifted back to sleep. I fell asleep imagining having conversations about what they know they need this year, what feels exciting to them and asking questions with the right amount of curiosity as to how I might offer them my support.

This came after a mid-night mining of voice memos. Stirred at like one thirty in the morning, I decided to give into the zeitgeist and see if what JusT&T might be trending. That led to a video about how to cast a vision for your life, which led me to be curious then to fall asleep listening to a workshop I recorded last week. “Was it usable?” I wondered as I began the tape.

Not only is it usable, it’s really good – near flawless in my definition of flawlessness (minus the three times I said “BS”).

My vision of my sister and brother in law listening to it on their roadtrip home from Michigan with the kids in the back silted into a dream of a good friend of mine telling me she would have loved to listen to the recording with her daughter, if not had I referred to life’s “BS” multiple times.

Back to now.

I have a candle on and the Brazil Norway game is on to my northwest. Our recent resurgence of our Sherlock watching has me using the back and forth motion of my eyes to search for the words for this post and I am feeling relief that the point of a blog is to not, necessarily, have a point. Frozen Spaghetti is “my online diary”, as it may be.

But what stirred the post?

Is the desire to better articulate the vision I started casing in that 2020 post. The ribs and the corn and the kitchen and the comet. To see it clearly with overlapping thoughtfulness to my partner’s clear vision, I imagine, would be like scoring a goal in the World Cup. It doesn’t mean the game is won or over, but – damn – I bet that feels amazing.

I want it. I want my kids supported and well traveled. I want my choices and actions to show that I listen. Listen to my partner, listen to my kids and really really listen when it is quiet.

Listen to what my body needs. (Just now? It was a bath.)

Listen to what I am feeling. (Right now? It’s quite directed.)

All of this is coming from a heart hurting with happiness, yearning with readiness, absolutely craving the 10% better – day over day – week over week – till we are all the way new. Till what was created back in 2020 has created its next creation.

That’s how creation works, right?

I know my friends and family will celebrate that arrival so big with us. I just feel my heart soaring at the idea of welcoming family in, showing them around, offering a seat and some ribs and some corn.

And maybe even a view – from a porch – of a comet.

Blended Family During Pandemic Wedding
Words in Sentences

What does Fear have to do with Being Loved First?

by ErinLeave a Comment on What does Fear have to do with Being Loved First?

It’s been an interesting morning. The layers and the context are drags in the mud, so will spare you. But here I am now with my “All Time Favorite Songs” playing in the background, in front of a window, wearing my new earrings from Old San Juan that are bright poppy reddish pink and match the friendship bracelet necklace I made in St. Croix. I mean… to complain about the layers and the muddy context would be to take away from the very real fact that I have no real problem right here and right now.

An Art Fair to be present at this weekend? Yes.

A prenatal training to be present for this weekend? Yes.

Three yoga and restorative yoga classes to intelligently prepare for in the next three days? Yes.

And whether it is the mission to support women out of my yoga clubhouse and studio community or my priority to feed my spirit so that my words can be fully owned by God that is causing my present moment to be so super charged, I can’t help but release the very real to do list for full present moment alignment.

I have marketing work and sales work and this constant (fear?) stress that if only I tried a little harder, focused a little more – this time around would be less experimental and more impactful. I don’t feel as prepared for the Art Fair as I thought I might be. There are some loose threads around the prenatal training that I thought I would have more tightly woven together.

But I also have this very real trust that things are always as they should be. That if I am focused on how I feel and what my body needs that the natural care for others, my family, my presence all will align correctly.

In the background of this processing is a trunk full of all of my notebooks. This trunk has been organized in two notable times. One was my “bachelorette party”… The weekend before I left for the Pacific Northwest to marry David, I spent with with all the notebooks out on the table – going through the chapters, looking back on my story, putting them in order, ripping out the loose stuff, keeping the good stuff. I spent that weekend with coffee and my past and my thoughts. It was a different kind of hangover than other brides to be might have – it was a 2020 solo rerun and it was awesome.

The second time I went through the notebooks was a bit more recent. In an rare wind I caught before Christmas time in 2025. I started pulling together all the everything in the house and took over the basement. All the poetry in one corner… All the fiction in another… the planners that have the kind of life artifact scribbles “planes hit the twin towers today”… that just hold *history* in a stack of their own.

So now, as I prepare for a chapter of a new found dedication to my mental health and that dedication supporting me telling my story, it’s time to take another look through the trunk (especially as it has gotten just a little overflowing with things…)

BUT HOW.

I decided to close my eyes and pick three things and one of those things was my Grandma’s Devotional Book… today’s verse was 1 John 4:18 and I found something particularly helpful to today.

““In love there can be no fear – but fear is driven out by perfect love: because to fear is to expect punishment – so anyone is afraid is imperfect in love. We are to love, because we are loved by God first.”

I am finding myself playing with the idea that if perfect love drives out fear, and fear expects punishment – then anytime we start anticipating being left or being hurt or doing something wrong and having to deal with a consequence we don’t want, that we are forgetting we were loved by God first.

That in all of the things I have to do for the business and for the home, that all of the things on my heart and mind for my relationships – that the pressure I start to feel is because of an expectation I believe is on me that I must meet (or what?!) or because of a consequence I want to avoid (is it even real?) but that the mode of operation that I have always found to work: how do I feel / what does my body need / align from there – is really a quality idea because it is rooted in the fact I am loved by God first.

Understanding my body as sacred technology, that the emotions and energy I have can be cleared / charged / balanced – and that from this place, I can access creativity and access connection, to do my best work (come what may)… is to understand I am here because I am loved and because I am love and from that place, I can love.

Noticing Fear as an Invitation to Love

Noticing fear of consequence, of failing, of expectation is to be invited into the love that is your birthright.

It is quite powerful of a realization, ya know. And so … from this point … I think it is time for another coffee (more on my coffee regimine sometime) and some direct sunlight.

A week ago, I taught this amazing packed class at a studio in St. Croix, U.S.V.I – in the middle of class, music from two very loud speakers started blasting directly towards the studio, causing me to *lock in* in a whole new way. Cadence to match rhythm. Trusting the process. Trusting the energy. Feeling my feeling, asking my body what it would want. Teaching from that place. It’s an important process.