Month: December 2018

Losing Trust – Day Thirty

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Losing Trust

If you’d asked me this morning what I would be writing about this evening, trust – or more accurately, losing trust , would not have been top of my list. Not to say trust doesn’t figure prominently in my life; it does. I just wouldn’t have thought I’d be bringing the topic up again quite so quickly since my last post about it.

But here it is, the clock is ticking relentlessly toward the witching hour, and I have only just now managed to get to my MacBook Air (not my Dell, notably!) to write this post.

Trust me (no pun intended), this will not be a long one.

Losing Trust Makes Us Feel Vulnerable and Foolish

Part of my agitation in writing this particular entry is that I happened upon information this evening, out there on the “internets,” that caused me to feel as though the floor had dropped out from under me.

No, I didn’t catch my husband cheating or doing anything nefarious, nor did I discover anything horrible about any of my sons or loved ones that would wreck my world. Or at least my world view.

But I did discover something that made me question a very close business relationship. It made me feel vulnerable and foolish, for if the appearance of what I discovered turned out to be true in its most obvious sense, then I’d been betrayed.

Levels of Trust

Which makes me contemplate the different levels of trust we accord various factions of people who cross our path in life. There are, of course, those who occupy the ‘inner circle.’ Parents, siblings, spouses/partners, children. We usually demand the greatest loyalty from them because they are either blood – or so close to blood they might as well be. When trust is broken in those relationships, we react in a certain manner, depending upon the level of egregiousness.

The next level is comprised of close, deep friends, and perhaps business associates with whom we have a partnership, similar to a sibling or marital relationship, but not necessarily quite as profound. In some cases, I think we may be more profoundly devastated by a breach of trust in this situation than in the first level, because for the most part we’ve chosen these people to be part of our world.

Then there are people with whom we interact on a transactional, day-to-day level. This can be people with whom we work or friends who actually are more acquaintances than anything else, but are perhaps vying for entry into the next level of relationship. Trust in these situations can pervade the relationship, yet not necessarily be needed or warranted. It may be granted, but not be required in order for the relationship to succeed.

And then there are the people with whom we interact on a superficial basis. We basically do not even need to assess the level of trust they deserve, for trust is not an inherent aspect of why we are interfacing with them.

Tonight I experienced what I perceived as a breach of trust of a relationship in the second highest level. It’s interesting, because the person whom I perceived may have ‘sold me out,’ so to speak, I have never met in person, yet actually have cultivated an extremely deep level of trust with and in over the past ten years or so.

Ten years is a long time. And I trust (man, that word – and concept – keeps popping up) my instincts, not only in the short term, as in the sense I get when I first meet a person and make eye contact with them, but also in the long term. I truly believe that one of the gifts of my ‘Owl Medicine’ is to be able to discern the true nature of people accurately. Usually with pinpoint accuracy.

If There’s Trust in a Relationship, Then It Deserves a Chance

So when confronted with the possibility of betrayal, of discovering that someone in whom I had placed great trust on many levels, had possibly sold me out for what was undoubtedly a paltry sum (in consideration of the value of my trust, which is considerable, if I do say so myself), I spoke up. I asked. I confronted – in disbelief, and in the hope that I was somehow misperceiving what I’d discovered – but with conviction that I required clarity.

And I received a response. Quickly. With apparent sincerity, and with what I trust (*) will justify my deep caring for the person and relationship in question.

And with that, I must post this. I truly and sincerely hope my trust is warranted, for otherwise, I will be deeply saddened. And pissed.

(T-1081)

Bad Habits – Day Twenty Nine

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 Bad Habits

In yesterday’s post I wrote that I was chagrined to discover that my practice of journal writing has clearly suffered as I have worked to fulfill my daily commitment in the form of the 1111 Devotion. I’d recently realized that I’d allowed an entire 14 days to go by without writing in my journal, which is a serious breach, in my book. And it isn’t that I’m blindly demanding daily journaling in addition to my commitment here; but I am saying that this act of neglect is one of several bad habits I indulge in – and not something I want to encourage within myself.

My reasoning, as I said yesterday, is two-fold, with the first being the simple fact that maintaining a journal has been a huge and essential part of my life for the vast majority of it. Journaling keeps my head on straight. It helps me see things differently than when thoughts and feelings are simply chasing each other around in my head, and it clarifies my emotions. This is true in spite of the fact that my discipline was nearly derailed when I realized I might not always be able to assume my privacy was assured. That’s how important journaling is to me.

My second reason for not condoning the sacrifice of my journaling is because it would defeat the purpose of my 1111 Devotion. It would strip it of its essence as an Act of Power. How is it rightfully a devotional practice to simply substitute one form of writing for another? What about that would be meaningful?

Not much.

Games My Mind Plays

It’s fascinating to see the little games my mind plays. The compromises I engage in – and to what end? Depriving myself of doing that which I love the most? Atta girl, Lisa. You’ll show them! (Who? Myself?)

It’s just dumb. And akin to that whole indulgence stream of thought I wrote about a few days ago.

I guess I’m realizing just how much this happens. How often I procrastinate on or outright refuse to engage in behavior that will only serve to make me happy or improve my life experience.

As I sit here contemplating just how much this behavior permeates my life, I’m disturbed by such a propensity. Not only do I seem to go on a guilt trip when I ‘indulge’ in turning off the tv and reveling in silence, but I also apparently sabotage my efforts to do what I love and live my life in beauty and ease and comfort.

Time to knock this shit off, I say.

(T-1082)

Neglected Journal-keeping – Day Twenty Eight

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Journal-keeping

I have to admit it; I’m a teensy bit stoked that I’ve made it a full lunar month of consistently writing Ruffled Feathers entries.

There has been some fallout in other areas, however, which I’m going to need to rectify, such as my regular journal-keeping. Yeah, my spiral notebook is feeling neglected. I noticed about a week ago that I’d permitted a terrible lapse in entries. A full fourteen days, if I’m not mistaken, which for me is nearly unforgivable.

Do I Have to Choose?

The only reason I didn’t lapse into a round of merciless self-flagellation was because I knew that, on some level, I’d made a choice. And for now at least, if I honestly felt I needed to make a choice, then opting for my 1111 Devotion was the way to go.

Yet as soon as I realized that I was sacrificing one form of writing for another, I knew that could not stand. Keeping a journal has been my way of snatching sanity from the undertow of overwhelm and sadness all my life. Keeping a journal has been integral to maintaining my marriage. Keeping a journal has led me to personal insights that I’m confident I never would have made otherwise, and therefore keeping a journal has been integral to creating the person I am today.

So no, sacrificing my journal writing to fulfill my commitment – my devotion – to honoring Karl’s life is not a practice I will permit. I’m not saying that I must write in my journal every day. But I am saying that a two week lapse is not part of the plan.

My reasoning is two-fold. First, I have kept some form of a journal in earnest since I was in 7thor 8thgrade. I cannot say that I’ve seen those earliest confessionals since becoming an adult, but I do recall writing out my feelings back when I was in 8thgrade, and perhaps even younger.

A Breach of Trust

And sadly, round about the age of 16 or so, I also recall discovering that my mother had done the unthinkable and read something I’d written without asking. (I’m thinking this may be why I haven’t discovered those early attempts at keeping a ‘diary.’ Although I do not remember reacting in an incendiary manner to her breach – by literally lighting them on fire or even being tempted to chuck them – I do find it odd that I can’t put my hands on them. And my visceral reaction to even the thought of burning or otherwise disposing of a journal leads me to believe I would never have taken such a drastic step.)

That’s not to say that I wasn’t incensed with my mother’s breach. Oh my. I was. But I also know we hashed it out. Honestly, tearfully, and not just a little angrily. Which is why I feel slightly bad about dredging this up now, because I know I forgave her. But forgiving doesn’t mean forgetting. And I’m not dredging this up to make her feel bad (since she’s been gone from this realm since 1991), but rather to explain that the deepest source of my outrage at her betrayal was because she’d had my trust. I told her almost everything (much to her chagrin many times). And I didn’t lie. But that’s not to say I told her every single lustful little thought that entered my mind as an adolescent (ew). And those thoughts were precisely the types of things she discovered when she read my ‘diary’ that I took absolute umbrage over her violating my privacy.

I’ve spent much longer on that fracas with my mother than I intended. And yet I’m not quite finished.

It feels important to express why I continued keeping journals even after my mother’s breach. Indeed, they became more and more of a lifeline for me when I turned 17 and became an exchange student in Sweden.

And that’s because I forgave her. And I forgave her because we listened to each other.

Forgiveness – Healing for Both the Forgiver and the Forgiven

I remember having it out together in my parents’ bedroom, when I confronted her after she asked me a question that I immediately saw she already knew the answer to. I was, as I’ve said, incensed. She’d been worried. Or something. I can’t even remember, other than to recall that she admitted that she was wrong to have read it. She admitted that she knew she was wrong because we did have such a close bond, and I did tell her so much about my life. I could see it written all over her face that she sincerely regretted it. And on some level, I understood that she’d almost been offered too tempting a target. “Did she really know me?” “Could she really trust me?” All she needed to do was read what I wrote…

Things were way different culturally when I was 16 than when my sisters and brother were 16, my closest sister in age being 9 years older and the eldest being 19 years older than me. So, yeah. I understood that she wasn’t sure if she knew me. And she understood my outrage.

After our (heated) discussion, I trusted she’d never do that to me again. And I know that trust was well-placed.

I’ll get to my second point tomorrow.

I promise.

(T-1083)

Indulgence – Day Twenty Seven

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Indulgence

It seems I struck a chord with my post on evening silence last night.

Why is it that so many of us find it difficult to give ourselves permission to indulge in those experiences that make us feel wistful when we contemplate them? And why do we consider engaging in those experiences indulgent?

When I started writing this post, I was surprised by how I almost feel naughty when imagining myself basking in evening silence, giving myself all the time I desire to immerse myself in another world for a while or write in my journal. And I could almost hear that same tinge-of-guilt-yearning in many of the comments I read to yesterday’s musing.

What is it about indulgence? Does it mean to give ourselves permission to do something risqué?

Nope!

According to the World Book Dictionary, to ‘indulge’ means: v. to give way to one’s pleasure (in); let oneself have use, or do what one wants; to give in to the wishes or whims of; humor.

Why Do We Make Ourselves Wrong?

I find it fascinating that my knee-jerk reaction to ‘letting myself do what I want’ – particularly something as nurturing as disconnecting from the chaos of the outside world – is something that provokes a vague sense being flighty or irresponsible or, as I said above, slightly naughty.

It’s weird.

Why is the idea of spending our time in ways that bring smiles to our hearts and joy to our eyes considered humoring ourselves?

When I let myself ‘go deep’ and really think about how much time any of us have in a particular lifetime, and how I actually spend my time, I can quickly lapse into a state of pre-melancholy if I’m not careful. There are a lot of things I do mindlessly. A lot of activities that I only do because, ugh – I hate to admit it – ‘everyone else does.’

Start Indulging In the Good Stuff NOW

I do not want to get to the end of my life and wish I’d indulged myself more often.

Because why the hell shouldn’t I indulge myself now? And why shouldn’t you? My indulgences are not of the sort that hurt anyone else. They don’t even harm either my own body or soul, as one might argue excessive drinking or debauchery (what a great word, that) might. While I do not know what your indulgences might entail, I imagine many are of a sweet, creative nature.

Permitting yourself to write those poems. Giving yourself an uncluttered space to paint. Shoving the couch to the side of the room and allowing yourself to dance. Allowing yourself to listen to the wind and play that haunting tune you hear on your acoustic guitar.

I feel a revolution coming on. A revolution of indulgence.

What secret yearning do you hold within that calls for you to humor today? Join me.

(T-1084)

Evening Silence – Day Twenty Six

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Evening Silence

I’m sitting here trying really hard to think of something even remotely interesting to write about tonight.

I’ve turned off the tv much earlier than usual (or at least, earlier than I used to), as I’ve done every evening since beginning the 1111 Devotion project, because it’s just way too distracting to have it on while I’m trying to write and thus the only way I’ll get the job done.

I must admit: I love listening to the silence, especially the silence that descends upon a room immediately upon clicking the tv into oblivion. It never fails to soothe me, no matter what I’m doing in the moment. And just like now, I wonder why I don’t seek evening silence out more often.

I’m calling it evening silence because I don’t seem to ever be tempted to turn the tv on during the day. Of course, a lot of times I’m not in a position to turn one on during the day. I’m not bringing this up as any ‘badge of honor’ sort of thing. It’s just a fact that I only rarely become aware of – but am appreciating much more often as a result of engaging my commitment.

Appreciation: A By-Product of My Act of Power

I guess you could say this appreciation of the evening silence is an unexpected but delightful by-product of this Act of Power. And in a way, it is a means of garnering power.

Even if I might be otherwise watching a program that edifies me in some way, I don’t think I get as much out of it, quite honestly, as I do the silence. Because if I lapse into the normal routine I was in prior to making this commitment, I would retire upstairs as soon as I turned off the tv. I might read my book for a few minutes, but in truth, my actual presence in and appreciation of the evening silence was minimal.

I find myself thinking back on when our sons were growing up, especially the two older ones, Karl and Maximus. Back when Karl was in elementary school, we didn’t get cable at first. We were limited to the three channels (3, 6, and 10) of the major networks, and maybe some UHF channels. Granted, that didn’t last long. But I know it made a difference in the way we spent our time.

Indeed, I sometimes wonder – especially lately – whether that is not a significant liability to my efforts to write the sequel to Owl Medicinehttps://amzn.to/2M6st6B. I’ve become addicted to the political news shows, especially. In some ways, I feel it is my civic responsibility to remain aware and informed. And goodness knows, it becomes harder and harder to peel our eyes away from the latest ‘news.’

But really, I have to ask myself: Is it worth my time? Wouldn’t I rather be spending time in the evening silence, immersed in one of my beloved books? Or writing one of my own?

Yeah, I think I would.

(T-1085)

New Moon/New Beginnings – Day Twenty Five

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New Moon/New Beginnings

Of necessity, I am not going to be able to write as much as I usually do this evening. But at the same time, I don’t want to leave you hanging on this whole ‘new moon’ thing that I started yesterday.

And I realize I may very well be talking about stuff you already know. If that’s the case, I hope you’ll forgive me.

Just from my dead giveaway ‘title’ to this post, yes, Virginia, when the moon is ‘new,’ which is also referred to as the ‘dark’ phase of the moon, it is generally thought to be a particularly auspicious time to embark upon new endeavors. New adventures, new jobs, new ideas, etc. It’s not that starting at other phases of the moon is ‘bad’ – it’s just generally thought to be most advantageous or giving the opportunity the greatest chance of success to begin it at a new moon.

And remember when I said last night that astrology is surprisingly complex? Well, just to give you a taste of that, beyond paying attention to the actual fact that the new moon is taking place today (be it December 6th or 7th, depending upon what time zone you live in), true astrologers also look to the sign in which the moon is hanging out, as well as the house of your particular natal chart. Yeah. I do not even pretend to have a rudimentary grasp of this. Yet. But it is intriguing to me and, after decades of relying on someone else to let me in on what all of this means, I’m actually starting to try to get a grip on it myself.

We’ll see. Who knows? By “talking about it out loud” here on my blog, maybe I’ll log the information into the appropriate folds of my brain and one day this stuff will start clicking.

I can tell you that the new moon tonight/tomorrow morning is occurring in Sagittarius, because that’s where the sun is right now – and a new moon is when the moon is lined up with (or ‘conjunct’) the sun and therefore not reflecting any of its light (hence it also being known as the ‘dark’ moon). While the sun moves through the 12 signs of the zodiac every 30 days (or so), the moon moves through each sign every 2.5 days (or so).

And yaaaaaaawn. That’s enough of that.

Some Favorite Astrology Links

So, here I’d like to give you links to two astrologers I enjoy following.

Kaypacha (Tom Lescher) publishes a weekly video called the Pele Report. He gives the technical aspects at the beginning (which still makes my eyes roll into the back of my head – but also makes me want to understand them better), and then he gives an entertaining and insightful explication on how the aspects occurring that week may play out or influence us in our daily lives (and on a global level, when and where appropriate). I find his personality endearing, and I relate to his goofiness all too easily. He knows his stuff, but he doesn’t take himself too seriously.

Chani used to give reports on a weekly basis, but is now giving them on a monthly basis. In order to get the most of Chani’s interpretations of the celestial aspects, it is extremely helpful to not only know your sun sign, but also your ascendant. That’s why I suggested you might want to discover yours in yesterday’s post. I find these interpretations extremely insightful and uncanny at times.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy these links. It’s really kind of neat to start paying attention to this information and noticing how it may or may not play out in what you see and feel unfolding in your life.

(T-1086)

 

Astrology and the New Moon – Day Twenty Four

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Esoteric Means of Understanding Ourselves Better

As you’re all discovering day-by-day and post by post (thank you for hanging with me), I’m fascinated by a wide range of esoteric means we humans have developed to help us understand our place in the Universe. I’ve been on the quest to understand myself better since my earliest memories. And of course, the admonition 28 years ago by the Taos Pueblo elder to “know” myself, as I describe in my book Owl Medicine , only clinched that early urge to soul search and gave me permission to translate it into a life-long passion.

Numerology

There’s numerology, which, as I’ve only tangentially touched upon, uses numbers based on a Pythagorean system of 9 to set forth a roadmap of our lives and the various gifts and challenges that our souls have come into this particular lifetime to experience and hopefully learn from and use to evolve.

Astrology

Another system is astrology. I’ve been fascinated for decades by this means of cultivating self-awareness, which is incredibly complicated and is far and away so much more in-depth and rich than the trite paragraph we used to read in the newspaper about our ‘sun sign’ when I was a kid.

At its most basic, astrology takes into account your ‘natal’ chart, which is the exact position of a wide range of heavenly bodies at the minute of your birth, from the perspective of where your mother was at the moment you were born. From this snapshot of the solar system, you do indeed know your ‘sun sign’ – which is the sign of the zodiac in which the sun was located at the minute of your birth.

Discovering Your Rising Sign or “Ascendant”

What many people don’t realize is that, while one’s sun sign can be a somewhat prominent indicator of traits that you carry in this lifetime, an actually more intimate and accurate indicator of who you are is what’s called your ‘rising’ sign – or the sign that was ‘on the ascendant’ at the minute of your birth. So, if you have a chance, I strongly urge you to research and discover your ascendant or rising sign.

One way to do this is to access the free website Astrodienst. (There are many others. I just happen to use this one.) You can either set up an account (again, for free) or just log on as a guest. Either way (under the ‘Free horoscopes’ tab, go to the far right and click on ‘natal chart, ascendant’ under the heading ‘Drawings and Calculations’) you can input your birth information. You’ll need the date of your birth (obviously), as well as the time (and this is important, as some important shifts can take place within minutes), but you can always input a default time until you can secure your specific birth time from your mom (wink) or on the ‘long form’ of your birth certificate. You’ll also need to know your birthplace (city, state, country). All of this information will add up to giving you a much richer, deeper picture of the heavens at the moment you arrived.

The three easiest and most basic aspects for you to discover are (a) your sun sign, which you probably know already unless you live under a rock; (b) your ascendant or ‘rising’ sign; and (c) your moon sign. Just knowing and delving into those three aspects of your personal astrological makeup can bring you an incredible amount of insight into yourself and how you ‘tick.’

What I find fascinating is how every form of roadmap that our souls have created for us to discover and work with, if we choose, matches up. In other words, when Alison Baughman gave me a comprehensive numerological reading years ago, it dovetailed in truly eerie and profound ways with every astrological reading I’ve received. (All told, I think I’ve had three or four separate astrologers read my natal chart for me, cultivating decades-long relationships with two of them, which means I would go back to them periodically to have them read my ‘transits.’)

I’ll talk about transits another day.

Roadmaps of Our Souls

My point, though, is that no matter what roadmap you look at, they all pretty obviously chart the same unique challenges and gifts. So it is as if we (as souls) leave cosmic magical breadcrumbs for our ego-selves to discover, in order to help us understand our strengths, weaknesses, and potential destinies, should we have the desire to discover them.

I started this post intending to discuss the fact that we will be experiencing a ‘new moon’ tomorrow and what that might mean for each of us. And then I got sidetracked into writing what I wrote.

But! The good news (for me) is that I just now realized that the new moon actually won’t ‘arrive’ until 2:20 a.m. EST on Friday, December 7th.

So maybe I’ll save what I was going to say tonight until tomorrow!

(T-1087)

Trust and Timing – Day Twenty Three

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Trust and Timing

Last night I almost wrote about ‘timing’ and ‘trust.’ The context out of which that potential topic arose was a recent scenario involving my extended family.

Before I get into the details, it’s only fair to admit to the long-standing and sometimes seemingly never-ending effort it has taken me to trust myself.

Not Trusting Myself? Or Not Trusting Spirit?

Hmm. Even as I write those words, I realize that’s not entirely accurate. It’s not always a case of me not trusting myself, or struggling to trust myself. At least in the context that I’m writing tonight, it’s almost always more a case of not trusting my connection to Spirit. Or, perhaps blasphemously, just basically not trusting Spirit. Period.

Sometimes that lack of trust springs from approaching an issue or situation from an overly intellectual perspective. I think I’ve written about this elsewhere, perhaps on my website, and I know I’ve spoken about it in many retreats and mentorships. It comes up because, well – for a lot of reasons, I guess.

I’m loathe to consider myself a flighty or insubstantial person. I was raised – and Karl and I raised our sons – to value education and pursue life-long cultivation of our minds. My education and career as an attorney is a big part of who I am and how I approach the world. I love a well-researched, logical, and precise argument or exposition. I like things to make sense.

So, when I first started working with the spiritual aspect of life – when I started learning how to take shamanic journeys and allowing myself to see, hear, and otherwise experience other ‘realities’ (and simply giving myself permission to entertain the possibility that other ‘realities’ could actually exist ) – it was a risk. I was entering into territory where I risked ridicule. Disbelief. Doubt.

I’ll write about what it was like for me to first journey another time.

Cultivating Trust in Spirit

For purposes of this post, I want to talk about how I’ve had to cultivate my trust in Spirit/God/Goddess/All That Is/Creator. Whatever you want to call that Source energy from which everything we know comes. I use the word ‘had’ deliberately because without that trust, I am confident I would have mucked up a lot of amazing experiences.

For instance, my niece and nephew endured a terrible tragedy earlier this year. I am at once intimately familiar with their pain and at the same time completely unable to fathom it.

When this tragedy unfolded, I felt a responsibility to be there for them, to provide whatever support or compassion I might uniquely be able to afford them.

But following the initial days, when many gathered and comforted as family and friends do, I got that weird ‘sense’ I’ve come to know – and trust – that is Spirit’s way of telling me what to do. Or not do. As weeks stretched on and I could see and feel the rawness being experienced, I wanted to provide insight. I wanted to do even more than that. I wanted to offer my unique interface with Spirit to ease their sorrow.

But Spirit said, “No.”

This made me uncomfortable, because even though I did reach out sporadically, privately, there was a part of me that sensed that they felt neglected by me. Or abandoned.

And yet, I kept checking in. “Is it time? May I?” And Spirit kept saying gently, “No. Not yet.”

“Trust.”

Trusting Divine Timing

Then just this past weekend, something shifted. I sensed it more and more each day. Both of them, but especially my niece, who I knew was away at a retreat specifically dedicated to their situation, were on my mind and in my heart. Each day, a part of me was sitting with her, just holding her and asking Spirit to heal her great pain.

Quite to my surprise, on Sunday afternoon, I had gone out to pick up a few things at the store. I was literally urged (and there is that trust of which I speak coming through and demanding to be honored) to pull over and send a text to my niece. As it happened, she was a passenger in the car of a fellow retreater, so we were able to have a ‘conversation.’

And the miracle is that I could tell she was ready. The timing was perfect.

Our dialogue continued the next day, as well, and it is hard for me to describe the gratitude I feel at the sense that everything is unfolding more perfectly than I, in my intellectual arrogance or maybe just human, stubborn, desire to help on my terms, when I thought I should, could ever have envisioned.

It’s times like these that I know I am not doing this alone. And wow, am I glad I’m always striving to cultivate that trust.

(T-1088)

Day Twenty Two (T-1089) – Housekeeping

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Housekeeping

Nope, I’m not going to be writing about my vacuuming, dusting, smudging, or laundry habits, which are vast and impressive, I hasten to assure you. (Right.)

When I put ‘Housekeeping’ in the title to this post, I’m actually referring to this blog. To this Endeavor of Dedication, this Act of Power.

It’s funny. On the one hand, I’m sitting here writing my 22nd consecutive daily blog post; something I would never have imagined myself actually doing: writing and posting every single day for 22 straight days.

On the other hand, though – there are the remaining 1089 consecutive days staring me in the face. When I look at things from that perspective, I’m just a baby. Really. To invoke a Carpenters’ ear-worm for those of you of a certain age, “We’ve only just begun…!” (You’re welcome.)

To that end, though, I must admit to being a total neophyte when it comes to pretty much all things blog. For instance, it seems kind of stupid to keep naming each post by its simple “Day number” (and the number of days remaining for me to complete my 1111 Devotion). But it does keep me on track and my eyes on the prize. Or rather, the destination. The prize is the doing; I do know that.

But I’m wondering if this then just looks like a bunch of gobbledygook to someone happening upon my blog. What would compel them to click on any of my posts, when they are all just titled with a generic day/count? I’m also compelled to think about indexing. What if some day I want to refer back to the post I wrote about ice cream, for instance? Or de-cluttering my bookshelves?

Last night I at least put “Books” behind the day/countdown.

I don’t know. This is probably a ridiculous thing for me to be writing about tonight. But it’s on my mind; and I’d like to set up my titles in an interesting, if not compelling (that seems too high a bar to shoot for in a blog title) manner that is consistent, but informative, and maybe even ‘searchable?’ And that’s where the relevance of the remaining number of posts comes in: I’ve barely scratched the surface at 22. So, now is the time for me to be figuring this out, since I don’t want to have to go back after a couple of hundred to re-title them (if that’s even possible).

And yeah, I guess I could’ve just kept this to myself and not dredged this mundane aspect of blogging into your lives. But heck – we’re in this for the long haul (please, I hope so), and maybe some of you will even be inspired to engage in a similar effort. So you can learn from my mistakes!

(Here I would like to note that I am noticing some posts on FB by a couple of you who read this, which also seem to be a daily devotion… YEA for you! They are lovely – joyful! – and thoughtful.)

So, you will see how this shakes out over the next few days. We’ll see if I stick to the format I’ve used since Day Two (T-1109), incorporate it into a new format, or change it all together. I’m sure you’re all on the edge of your seats.

I don’t know. I have to wonder if something ‘big’ is going to happen this week. I feel this sense of edginess, almost like I don’t want to get into anything too deeply. I didn’t intend this post to be so mundane. But for whatever reason, this is what it felt right to write about tonight.

What I was going to write about was ‘Timing’ and/or ‘Trusting’ when we should or shouldn’t say something. Guess I’ll save one of those for tomorrow.

Thank you for sticking with me.

Library Annex – Day Twenty One

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 3 Comments

Library Annex

I’m excited.

Granted, it doesn’t generally take a lot to make me happy, but I haven’t experienced this particular ‘excitement’ in quite a while.

Karl and I engaged in some serious decluttering this weekend. Oh my goodness; I feel liberated.

Decluttering and Books

Most of my efforts were directed toward rearranging our books. We are incredibly lucky to have a wonderfully extensive – if eclectic – collection. They can be broken down roughly into about ten categories:  metaphysics; shamanism (a subcategory, it could be argued, but we have so many it has to be its own category); writing; science fiction; art/creativity; reference (yep, I refuse to get rid of our bound World Book encyclopedias, various dictionaries, thesauri, atlases); memoir; general fiction/young adult/feminist literature; plant/nature/environmentalism; and divination.

When we purchased our home back in 1985, a significant appeal was the ‘library’ (really just the dining room), which had bookshelves taking up all the free space on every single wall. The former owners had painted the walls behind the stained wooden built-in shelves a dark green, mimicking the deep green felt of libraries of yore.

Naturally, we were obligated to fill those shelves.

And through the years and the raising of three sons, through both lean and flush times, our greatest single indulgence as a family was books. In fact, for many years, it was our tradition to go to Borders on New Year’s Day. Although, truth be told, any excuse would do – and it didn’t have to be the start of a brand new year.

Borders and Barnes & Noble

Travel soccer tournament in Virginia? No problem! We’d just scope out a bookstore that we could retreat to between games. Ideally, we’d look for a local independent store, but for a while there, the easiest finds were the ubiquitous ‘big box’ purveyors, namely the aforementioned Borders and Barnes & Noble. They also had the best hours. Any trip anywhere, no matter where or for what purpose, would always be made better by tracking down a bookstore.

We’d often find something small and local almost everywhere we went because, being the odd ducks that we were, we would seek out the ‘metaphysical’ bookstores. Our experience was that the ‘big box’ stores were resistant to carrying selections out of the mainstream – at least at first. Or maybe I should say, their selections of shamanic books, for instance, were so pathetically inadequate that they would rarely be worth our time. (In other words, they carried Castaneda. Period.)

The appeal, though, of the bigger stores was the selection of magazines they carried. Son Karl would inevitably snag the latest copy of Fortean Times, and as we drove home or to the next soccer game, he would read us outlandish snippets from its pages.

Maximus and Sage would almost always find something to read, at least while we browsed. And lot, a lot, a lot of comedy found its way home from these excursions. Indeed, every Farside anthology published can probably be found somewhere in this house.

Come to think of it, Karl and I used to get teased by our fellow parents at soccer games because we’d never show up without each harboring a book.

Library Annex

Anyway…

My delight in what we worked on this weekend stems from the fact that the bedroom that used to be Maximus’s is now entirely a library annex to our downstairs branch! This has enabled me to free up the shelves downstairs – no more books piled crossways on top of those regularly shelved – or I could say stuffed. And the cool thing is that it doesn’t feel as though I am making room to buy more books, although that will always remain a possibility. (Just so everyone knows, we are dedicated library-goers as well.)

Rather, freeing up our shelves and creating an upstairs library is more of an energetic opening than anything else. It feels like we’re creating more room to allow our creativity to flourish.

And that, my friends, is truly exhilarating.

(T-1090)