weaving a life

It is possible to get the warp and the weft to agree on getting together to maintain the fabric. Then they think, is this what I want? I am stuck with this warp? I like it but not so close all the time.

How about if I go back to being strands of wool just like I was before? The potential was so exciting. And then the inner being of the strands said, "the time is now to be knit together for our greater presence" and I was swept up in the delight of it and gave into the union. Expanding presence, more love, more beauty, more being.

FALL BONES

Don't know if you relate, but this has been a season of incredible contrasts and colorful weavings pour moi. To move across the American continent, from Atlantic to Pacific and back to Atlantic has the dimension of a mere sidebar in my existence. Most people would consider that a major feat, but no, me? I am taking it in stride, almost accepting that bi-coastal is just another daily event that seems -- as my friend Larry calls me --paranormal. I like that. It helps to illuminate the practicality of a mystic's life. Anyway, how to manage consolidation of 2 coasts; cars, furniture, papers, insurance, phones, friends, taxes and addresses is a beauty of a challenge which, in the end beckons one to think of it all as simply stuff. And one thing we all know is that there is plenty of stuff everywhere here in the northern hemisphere. You can easily come by it. And you can't let it rule you in an atmosphere so magical as the Catskill mountains -- or for that matter anyplace you love. I think it is only really dominant when you lack love, appreciation, and harmony in your life.

Here I am Pixleyless, meaning without a daily teacher (3-year old grandson) of the joyful life. Think about it, what adults do you know who get together for the express purpose of playing, exploring how totally amazingly beautiful life really is?? Not too many. Mostly we get together to either dull our senses or discuss who is sick, who is lacking money, who is breaking up, rather than using our creative energies and imaginations to build our dream realities, to love colors, textures, images, feeling things and each other and smiling and laughing with each other. We (the human race), have really let ourselves fall into a silly rut.

Call me a Pollyanna, but I have noticed that my imagination is the most powerful force in my life and when I can figure out what I want I always (100%), completely get it. So if I am using my imagination to picture war and children starving, I get it (which I no longer do). And if I use my imagination to see in my mind's eye, beautiful children having fun, or harmonious adults enjoying life in a harmonious environment (which is something worth concentrating on), then I have that experience. So imagine if people all over the globe were doing just that. It could make a huge difference. (More about the law of attraction in a few days)

Take the Sheep and Wool event in Rhinebeck last weekend. Not only did I see some of the best cared for sheep, goats and rabbits, but the people who presented their work there were some of the happiest, peaceful, productive and enjoyable folks I have ever seen. We are talking multi-talented agrarians who take great photos, weave divine textiles, network brilliantly, dye with plants and do things everyday that most of us would give our eye teeth to be able to pull off. They take care of their plants and animals and have dedicated themselves to loving land, colors and texture. They may not have a Lexus in the driveway, but they are so successful! I dare to say more than most stars and billionaires. Why? They are living and enjoying stretched out, hopeful, endless natural TIME.

All in all, life here in the Hudson Valley, although there are the small villages and cities, is in a natural world where one can get away easily from hustle and go to water, mountain, forest, field and breathe in an ancient and blessed form of energy; fresh, pure, enlivened and sweet air. It blows around and keeps us all alive and makes the clothes on the line twirl wildly and the escaped leaves skip madly. In the music of the of the valleys and the aura atop the Catskills, the wind is stirring up our hope and gifting us all with caresses that pass through our skin into the depths of our bones, inspiring strength and stamina for a winter stretch. The message from the bones..... "Love me; love me for my cycles of bliss and my sadness, love me for my busyness and quietness, for my holding you up and for my letting you rest, love me for my blood making qualities, but most of all just love me for being here with you." Isn't this just like true friendship? I'm so grateful for my precious friends and for the bone people living deep inside my body. When you see all those skeletons hanging around..... think about them. They certainly outlast the flesh.

Here are some pictures from a recent walk at Mohonk with the wonderful Carol.

je t'aime

Love and Peace

I just went downstairs to get my username and password to sign into my blogspot. In the darkness of my kitchen, the one with the 1930's breakfast nook and small table that my father made for me when I was 3, with friendly light from the street lamp illuminating the walls, I came upon my devoted, humble, sweetheart of a servant, rumbling and whooshing, my beloved dishwasher. This hunk of white metal, with hidden hoses and plastic coated racks, with whirling parts that I never get to witness racing around, and with the magic dispensers of dish powder and glass sparkler dancing open at just the right time, actualizes the wishes that women of the past never even dared to dream. Think about it. While I am up here with you, my friends and family, someone fantastic is doing my dishes, efficiently and sweetly. For when I open the door, there they all are, clean, smiling at me, hopeful and ready, not one broken, sparkling and sanitized; happy dishes. I love my dishwasher.

These pictures are from a secret place here in the Hudson Valley that holds onto its natural beauty the way that I hold onto my dream of everyday peace on earth.

How does peace feel? Like you can really breathe freely. Like you have plenty of time; you don't have to rush anywhere. Like you are being loved and taken care of by an entire universe that adores you. Like you can have anything you want just for wanting it and loving it. Like you are truly loved for who you are -- an evolving sweet soul, a beauty. It feels like you always wanted to feel, like you felt when they brought out the birthday cake all glowing with candles and sang happy birthday, happy it was just for you.

Let yourself get the feeling of peace now no matter where you are. For wherever you are, your opportunity is to appreciate hanging around this amazing place called Earth. Jet'aime

Ashokan Days

Dearest Reader
I am living in New York now -- since my last blog I have spent a divine summer -- some say the best ever in the Hudson Valley. Although many people have not heard, the SF Bay area does not really have a summer. Certainly not the kind that we here in the east enjoy. It was so hot here that you could easily not wear clothing around for days. You could take a nap naked, or swim naked or dine naked and never miss any article of clothing whatsoever. Of course I did not do that except when safely in my bedroom, but one could if the culture allowed it.
The moist air of summer in the valley is so smooth that sometimes you feel you could swim through like a fish twirling your body around with head down or up, tail in the waves. Pixley, my 3 year old grandson and I spent many days together having picnics, playing with water, letting the wind blow through our hair and hanging out in the basement with train tracks, engines, freights and woo wooooo's. Almost no one in Kingston is excited and happy when a train cuts off the streets as they rumble by, but Pix and I searched them out. We pulled up as close as we could and watched, shouting out the names and colors of the cars and staring in amazement at the connections so necessary to make a train do what it does -- travel along, pulled by an engine on a track.
That is the theme of my night. Connections.
I have never valued my connections before the way I do now. The links that I have with other people have become like precious seams in an endless quilt of time. I have begun to accept that I am loved and lovable, valuable for simply who I am, for my sweet heart, my soul's desires, for my journey as a simple pilgrim walking along the paths, wandering in the forests and holding the hands of those who I meet. No frills, glitz or can can is necessary. Just the authentic being.
The fascination of a small boy, a strong boy, a bright and energetic boy for trains and tracks carries me along to appreciate being with the people here in this community, this joining of lives together in honoring the river, the mountains, the streams and honoring what happened here before us and will happen here after us. The dance of the sun, the stars, the clouds and the seasons all whirl around us as we alamand left, and right, swing our partners and fall satisfied into our beds at night so grateful for this place we call home.
Je'taime

Two April Fools

This is Patti and me sitting at Piccolo's in Sausalito enjoying being together in the sun with good music, good food, good view of the bay and Christophe, the enlightened waiter. Patti arrived on Monday from New York and our long friendship is flowering in the warmth, sun and beauty of California. There is nothing like seeing your life through the eyes of someone you love to be appreciative and grateful, the true religion. We have til Friday morning when she is taking off again and returning to some nasty northeastern weather, but she'll be back as soon as possible.

I'll be in Kingston in June for the summer so we will play again in the Catskills, Mohonk, and provide good time for our grandchildren, Pixley and Alana. Yesterday I realized that 2 grandmothers are exponentially better than 1 when Patti taught Pixley, who is 3 how to play Pinball on his mother's computer at the Be Sweet office. This is going to transform Pix's experience at momma's office forever. After only 5 minutes he was working the keys we marked to keep that ball up in the game space. Balls and ways to keep them up in the air are his passion.

Patti is the computer blogging, selling, ebay, etsy, incredible wiz. She is getting me up on the blog skills and I might even get some readers like you to check in frequently to help me enjoy my blogging even more. Having readers can be so fun. Please feel free to leave a comment.

Hope your day is filled with secure power feelings.

Authentic Life in Sausalito California

Let's say our goal was to find our own authenticity. That would be without cultural expectations.

For example, I am an easy living lover. I like to work, but I like it to be in a beautiful setting and with people I love and respect.

When I think of hanging the clothes or fabrics on the line, I feel authentic. I think of clean fresh air, sunshine, lines that roll away ( who thought of that?), clothespins, (a genius invention), and endless afternoons making art. This was my past. Now I have a helper to hang up the clothes. He is 3 and he finally can work the clothespin. He likes to put them on the bottom of the sock so they dangle down in all funny directions.

My authenticity seems to register higher when being with a little child than struggling to solve problems, higher when dancing than talking, much higher when laughing than feeling scared.

I feel I am touching a texture under my former skin. Here it is timeless. It is what is described in the vedic teachings, in Tibetan Buddhism. It is the truth, the secret. I am free to be a person I always wanted to be -- someone who could have the time to watch a ladybug, or play badminton on a tennis court, or shake petals from a fruit tree on our heads. These may seem small to you, but time expands in these days and they are the natural way, the rigpa, the Eden, heaven itself.

Boy am I grateful!

angel island with no covers

These are not in order. But bear with me. At least I got them uploaded and I just lost the former evening's blog. I liked it too. It just diappeared and they gave me a number to use if I wanted to report it. But what good would that be if I couldn't get it back anyway? So I start all over.

Here is my first photo upload (Angel Island) and it is one of the daily portraits of Angel that I have taken at dawn. Isn't she beautiful?? So even though I was just reading the "next blog" which is an young asian girl's blog called candykanekisses or something like that and she is so cute and writes ha ha all the time and made me feel that I am so serious, I still feel that publishing from my viewpoint is of value. I still haven't told anyone but my closest friends that I even have a blog.

First photo is my gang on the deck on another type of day.

Winds were high today and lots of rain, so we stayed in and played hide and go seek and trains and watched Old Bear, stories about stuffed animals who have picnics and fly up in toy airplanes to the attic to get their friends out. We love those stories. They are sweet.

Sunday Dawn- A Fog Down Comforter Hugs Angel Island

Did you know that Angel Island saved San Francisco Bay from being discovered by the Spanish for 200 years? I will post a photo of ithe island if I can or as soon as I learn how and get my Picasa going. I am looking at it now, all snuggled up in the fog blanket that creeps in from the mighty Pacific through the Golden Gate. It was an evening of cool rain here in the north bay.

The Pacific coast is treacherous and there are no ports between southern California and here and in the 1500's the Spanish ships were not taking any chances to come too close the the violent rocky shores, so when they sailed past the Golden Gate, which is pretty narrow compared to say NY harbor, they did not notice that the pyramid shaped Angel Island filled in the profile of the coast. So they missed this enormous paradise and docked in at Point Reyes and started their pillaging there. Later in the yes, 1700's someone sailed down the river and wow! discovered a huge and amazingly beautiful bay. The bay was black with seals in those days. There must have been thousands of them. The russians and spanish killed them for their skins. There are a few of them left and their faces come up out of the water and look at us with eyes of delight. In the herring season which just passed, they lay on their backs with flippers and tails up in the air and "raft up" i think it is called. Andy who is a fisherman friend says that is because they are so full of herring, they need a rest so they float along all linked up like that. It looks so funny!

So funny is a phrase my grandson Pixley uses. You have to say is soooooo funnneeeee. Like that or you don't get the right tenor. I really like the way Pix expresses himself. I will let you in on some of his better phrases and words from time to time. I will make every effort to NEVER be sappy however. I hate sentimentalism and musicals that seem to have no philosophical virtue or just plain good humor whatsoever.

Last night I went to San Rafael, pronounced Rafell around here, to see a French film called Avenue Montaigne. I loved the experience and found it safe to see for someone who chooses to close my eyes during the teasers. I don't get why everyone wants to be happy, but then insist upon watching total degredation of the human condition. It does not add up. Are we not fed fear all day in the news? And then to go PAY to be scared out of your wits while you sit in a dark theatre.......I would love to know if anyone is out there reading this could explain why that is a common practice.

Well the sun is way up over Berkeley now and I had to start this blog tonight or I was going to lose years of hard work, monitoring every thought and sentence for 5 years, to get to a point so that I am creating what I want in life. For I am an undercover metaphysician. All that baloney about wishful thinking and setting intentions and freeing yourself from negativity is true. It really works. Unless you can't think straight and are REALLY Angry and that's what I was last night. No need to go into detail, but let's say it involves alcoholism, other isms, immaturity, blame, and total lack of compassion, but as they say who's counting? I also try not to use phrases that are meaningless, rote and dumb, but sometimes dumb seems appropriate.

Am I writing too much? I have so much to say and hope that someone will read it. I think there is so much crap to read that sometimes I feel I shouldn't write anymore to add to the already overwhelming overload, but that theory got me into that angry place where I was not really expressing anything authentic of my own. So here goes, I'm going to push publish and see what happens.
Whatever you are doing for your own and the common good, keep it up.
B