Quote-of-the-Day

"True creativity quite simply starts with balancing your emotions and activating the power of the heart. Through practicing emotional management from the heart, you tap into the highest form of creativity possible-recreating your perceptions of reality." ~ Doc Childre

Giggles and SMILES and Laughs

So sweet.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MUM!!!

When I was little, she used to call me Treasure and make me soft boiled eggs with "soldiers" for dipping. I watch her with my nieces and nephews now and see the love and joy and pride in her face for another generation. She is the glue that holds our family together, the Queen. No really, and with the British accent!

There are so many things that I am grateful for: she taught me to sew and knit and cook for an army. We sibs cook giant pots and casseroles of food--even for two. I don't know how to make single servings. That is why there is a freezer.

More than the overt teachings, I learned by her modeling. Age is never an excuse to stop doing anything: she took up skiing at 41, karate at 46 (she's a black belt), took my brother bundgie jumping for his college graduation, and just for kicks, went to body guard school at 65. We had a lot of fun with that one. We created scenarios where she was security for Sean Connery and he's lying on the ground having been shot and she'd say, "Oh, get up. You're not hurt. Just a minor flesh wound!"
While my dad adjusted us for everything ( Nooooo! Not the toggle recoil!!!), anything to do with bleeding was Mum's territory: the famous butterfly stitch. We all wore a box of bandaids at one time or other. You'll be fine. And we were.

I love her laugh and she has anchors that will set her off, like... SHEPHERDS. Oooh hoo hoo hoo! She sparked in all of us a passion for lifelong learning. She says she's not creative but she sewed our clothes when we were little, does calligraphy, refinishes furniture, and most recently built a harp from scratch. I've never particularly cared for harp music, but now that I've built one I guess I'll learn how to play it. I love how she does things JUST FOR FUN and that learning is fun.

I admire her strength and sense of adventure. She met my dad in the Yukon wilderness where she was working with Eskimos. On my 7th birthday, we left our home in California: 4 kids & another on the way, to the frozen Virginia country. We lived out of our camping trailer until the dome was built and even then, that was still like camping! I had a Marine friend in college who once said, Anyone who likes camping just hasn't done it enough. Amen.

I once asked her about L.A. and the riots in the 60's and she said, "Oh, don't ask me anything about the 60's, I was busy having children." The first 4 of us were 16 months apart. Having raised only 2 children, I don't know how she did it! And that is when you really appreciate your mother: when you're faced with parenting. She gave us chores and bedtimes and limits and consequences. All those things that as a child, make a parent "mean." But really mean, the ultimate love and sacrifice. It's OK to be mad or upset or disappointed, I still love you. And you won't appreciate all this until you're a successful adult--but that's my job: to raise you to get along in this world and be able to take care of yourself.

She had 6 children she calls her "Blessings" and said that "childbirth was just a bit of pressure." No big deal. As a midwife, she's delivered 2000+ babies, including most of the grandchildren at home. She went with me to my first Hypnobirthing lecture before I became certified, and the instructor said, "Childbirth is really just pressure." My mother wacked my arm and gave me the Mum-I-told-you-so Look. I am so grateful to have grown up with her as a calm alternative to the emergency pregnancy-as-a-disease mentality in our society. Babies come when they're ready, she always says. A lesson in patience, in trusting Nature, in trusting in your body's innate intelligence.

When people see us together, they say they can tell I'm her daughter because we look exactly alike. The funny thing is: we don't. I am my father's daughter: same eyes, bone structure, sense of humour. However, I have her smile and I like to think, her cheerful optimism. Once we were out to breakfast with a family friend, Melody. I said, "Don't they have any proper butter?" as I'm giving an Ick Face toward the fake stuff. Melody laughed and said, "You sound just like your mother!" And so I do. We appreciate proper things: butter, napkins, cleaning supplies, and anything of Quality.

Back in the '80's, it was all the rage to wear men's paisley pajama's with bangles and crucifixes. I hope you don't tell people who you are, she said as she saw me going out into the world in that get-up. I walked out onto the front porch and yelled: "Hey everyone! I'm Anne Holliday's daughter!"

THANK YOU, MUM. My heart SMILES whenever I think of you. And I can't express how much I LOVE YOU I APPRECIATE YOU and how PROUD I AM to be your daughter. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! :-) BNO

Quote-of-the-Day

I had to come out of my Blog Hibernation because this was too inspirational not to share. I got this in an email from Dr. David Lee who is one of my most favourite positive people on the planet!

If you share enough good news, there will be no room for the bad.

Amen. And may God's Goodness, Grace, & Mercy be in your heart.

Update, Guests, & Flying Squirrels

I'm going to take a break from blogging. It's not that I don't have anything to say--lots going on. However, I'm working on a new labyrinth script, I've got some art things that have a dead-line AND I've taken a job with John Morgan, "America's most FAMOUS hypnotist." The latter of which requires a lot of phone time. So here's a lengthy update and then I'll send an email out when I start posting again.

THANK YOU, Ruthie :-)
My sister Ruth came for a visit a couple weekends ago, read my blog post "Labyrinth Mourning," and said, "I think it's clear what we need to do this weekend." So we gathered river rocks and built a new labyrinth. It's half the size of my one in WV, but since I don't know how long I'll be here, I didn't want anything too permanent. I have pictures--but of course they won't upload. Stupid dial-up.

The piece of junk mail worth $19!
Friends Bess-from-massage-school & husband Val-who-did-my-website came for a few days. We went to Luray Caverns and I got in because I could show a Page County address. Yey, me! The caverns are AWESOME! And here's my Seinfeld/Larry David episode: A tour guide who yaks the entire time and manages to say NOTHING. "These formations are called the drapes. As you can see, [indicates with flashlight] the curves of the rock here resemble drapes." And then later, "These formations are called 'the fried eggs.' " Let me guess...because they look like fried eggs? And then! She's quizzing people! [Points with flashlight to rock formation] "What do you think this formation is called?" And she's not asking for anything scientific. There were lots of guesses, all WRONG, of course. What's wrong with silence? What is this obsession in our culture to fill up every empty space? As my old director Ed Steele at Wayside Theatre used to say, "LESS IS MORE."

Red raspberry season!!!
YUM! Bess & Val & I went hiking & berry picking. We also found some wild blueberries. In fact, I'll be picking some more today....

Squirrels can fly?
I have little bird houses on trees around the house from the previous owner. I was sitting in my chair near the telephone pole reading my book, and I heard a rustling in the box above and out pokes a furry little head. Too small to be a squirrel, and it didn't look like a chipmunk. Some sort of rodent, but not pointy enough to be a rat...mystery solved when Val, who's v. tall, tapped on the box with his water bottle and out scampered a little squirrely thing up to the top of the pole. There it turned to face us, unbushy tail twitching at us. And then--THEN! It leapt from the top of the pole into a nearby tree a good 2o feet. It was the most amazing thing to see, right before our eyes. It happened so fast. And there is such a thing as flying squirrels, I remember seeing something on Discovery, or TLC or National Geographic back in my TV-watching days.

Another Seinfeld episode:
As I may have mentioned, I have dial-up. Hehhh.... So I got a package with Embarq (AWESOME customer service!!!) who has a deal with Earthlink (CRAP customer service). Now that I have Embarq, I can cancel my Earthlink account and it will be handled by Embarq. Except I can't. Earthlink cut off my service because I didn't pay the bill--which I didn't because now I have Embarq. 4 live chats, and countless transfers to India and back to Embarq--4 HOURS of life force sucked out of me that I will never get back. My mother was with me for the first 2 of it, and it just became a joke: No! Don't transfer me! And then it was back to India to the v. polite person who would then transfer me to Embarq. So I just went ahead and paid Earthlink. I just got an email notification from Earthlink that my bill is due. Hehhh...stupid dial-up.

4th of July Celebration
Went to Mum's annual concert followed by fireworks. I recorded the fireworks because my nephew Ian was SO EXCITED that it made the experience that much more special. I have him on tape saying, "WOW! This is better than Christmas!" I LOVE fireworks, so it was really great to be able to share it with such an enthusiastic audience. For Ian's birthday on the 11th, I printed out one of the fireworks photos and glued it on top of a Christmas card. I love that he was born on the 11th...because it's one more, innit?

And for Entertainment
No TV, but I have DVD's, so I have had a Christopher Guest Fest. Favourites: Spinal Tap, Best in Show, and Waiting for Guffman. All including with commentary.

Books: I rarely read fiction, but re-read Clan of the Cave Bear. It's different reading a book again 20 years later. It's not even the same book. Right now I'm reading Animals in Translation by Temple Grandin. It's a fascinating account of her work with animals. She's autistic and has an uncanny ability to see as animals see and understand their behaviour. It makes me think of Dave Dobson who says that we are "herd animals."
A friend lent me Labyrinth by Kate Mosse, which I've not read yet. You know what's funny? That's not a labyrinth on the cover, it's a maze.

Well, that's the update. If I find myself feeling chatty, I may post again. For the most part tho, I think I'll take the rest of the summer off. :-) H.

Quote-of-the-Day & The End of a Pity Party

"What is to give light must endure burning." ~Victor Frankl

I forget until I remember sometimes, that whenever I'm stewing in a toxic dose of self pity, focused more on loss than on the gratitude of what I do have--it's good to remember Victor. Because no matter how bad I think I could have it, it will never be what he went through. And the thing I remember from his book, Man's Search for Meaning, is that we can lose it all, but we still have the choice of how we think and what to focus on. And above all, when everything is lost, there is always, always the presence of LOVE. There is no need to let go when you open your heart. When the heart is full, there is room for nothing else--no dark corners of resentment or grief.

So today I choose LOVE.

And with that LOVE is its partner, GRATITUDE. And in feeling grateful, I feel open to the miracles of life. I am so very grateful. For all of it. THANK YOU. :-)

Labyrinth Mourning

I was told it would stay. I thought it would be safe. And I don't know why I was surprised. Shocked, really. But, this Labyrinth Gal, a member of The Labyrinth Society, who created a BEAUTIFUL backyard labyrinth she tended for 7 years, who wrote a CD based on the labyrinth, created a labyrinth website, who facilitates seminars based on the labyrinth, creates walking labyrinth canvases and paints labyrinth art...this gal is grieving the loss--
no-- the hateful destruction, of her labyrinth.

I could have dismantled it. I thought I had time. Last Friday I had to go back to WV to get things that were "forgotten" from my checklist. (Oh, you mean you wanted ALL the parts of the bed frame)? And when I went to walk the labyrinth, there was nothing there. And then I found it: the pile of rocks, gravesite of my labyrinth at the edge of the woods. I picked through rocks looking for my favourites. And then there she was: my labyrinth angel in the debris. Her wing tip broken, but still blowing a kiss. The angel I had asked about and was told another "I Told You." I told you to get your angels out of the yard. That's right, stupid angels! All ONE of them left after the rest had been mysteriously decapitated--blamed on the weed wacker.

The labyrinth was a reward to myself for having lived without septic for 6 months. The septic company was family-owned and I stood there with the 3 brothers as they surveyed the yard. And I am NOT making this up, they were the BUTTS BROTHERS. It's a common name in the area, perfect for a septic company...or proctologists. For 6 months I washed dishes in a work sink that drained into a five gallon bucket that I emptied in the woods. I went to the laundry mat for the whole family. Afterall, I grew up in a dome, I can weather this.

And when the new septic went in, they cleared the woods in the backyard. And there was the perfect place to put it. When I first built it, there was a majestic tree that stood almost in the center, but a bulldozer had grazed some of the bark. It only had one branch that was green with leaves. So I muscle checked what healing modality it needed. And then dutifully stood at the base of the tree with a tuning fork. There, I thought. Now it will get better. And the tree died. And that's when I learned that sometimes healing comes not in life, but in death.

I knew every rock, every turn of the labyrinth. I loved it through the seasons and the years. On my CD I talk about how one spring I came out to see hundreds of violets blooming on the path. What a GLORIOUS site that was! And once I found a four leaf clover. I have a knack for that. I gathered plants and made labyrinth tea before I mowed every week: dandelion, red raspberry leaf, clover...Once as I was sitting in the center, I looked up to see a speckled fawn just on the perimeter. And whenever I walked, through snow or a summer's day, my cat Vixen would come join me. I have such happy memories and I am so grateful. It has been my creative inspiration, a place of peace, and a source of JOY.

And now I'm gone, and it's gone and it doesn't matter. That house doesn't deserve my labyrinth.
It's easy to hide behind a "real estate agent" and say that there isn't a market for that kind of "rock garden." It was more than a rock garden. But then, pearls before swine prolly just look like pebbles.