Wednesday, October 11, 2017
Movies not produced:
Ideas not fleshed out:
NO PEACE MOVEMENT, NO SLEEP, NO RELIEF FROM ANXIETY, NO WAY TO EAT...
Grandchildren not spoilt:
most of them
I'm having a hard week in LA, though there are blessings and great weather, no fires here, and my friends and family seem safe... THE LEAVES ARE FALLING, FALLING, FALLING.
Trump is POTUS. Bits feel unraveling. I just have to let the pieces fall where they may...
I'm exploring an idea for a new heroin addiction treatment:
TRUTH AND CONSEQUENCES.
CUT THE DRAMA SHORTIE
I AM SO ANGRY I NEED DRUGS SO I DON'T KILL YOU AND GO TO JAIL FOREVER
LIES WE NEVER TOLD, A DANCE.
The truth about heroin addiction is - it's a disease, it's hereditary like cancer, it's terminal like cancer used to be. People are ashamed to say the word "heroin", like they were ashamed of "cancer". Now, people survive and thrive as "cancer survivors". Soon perhaps people will be surviving and thriving as "heroin survivors". Or will they?
There were about one million heroin users in the U.S. as of 2014, almost three times the number in 2003.
Deaths related to heroin use have increased five-fold since 2000. And that's just the people who didn't come back to life.
Heroin is an Epidemic in this country. A Terminal Epidemic, so far.
However, we have just begun to fight!
I am not a heroin user or abuser, and never will be, for those who don't know me and may be reading this blog post possibly. I hope to hear ideas and input from those who are, or have been, or know someone who is or was...
For you, I'm feeling huge compassion-
Thursday, December 22, 2011
I know nothing specific about the nature of the poison in the fruit except that eating a number of the red berries will cause stomachache, vomiting and diarrhea.
Affirmation for Holly
The ultimate conquest of all will be through love and gentleness, and when we have sufficiently developed these two qualities nothing will be able to assail us, since we shall ever have compassion and not offer resistance.
Indication for HollyFlower
For those who are sometimes attacked by thoughts of such kind as jealousy, envy, revenge, suspicion.
For the different forms of vexation.
Within themselves they may suffer much, often when there is no real cause for their unhappiness.
—Dr. Edward Bach (maker of Bach Flower Remedies)
Thanks for reading this blog to the end, I hope it has been as good a gift to you as it was to me writing and posting it for you.
Recipes that I've been making lately: wheat-free bread with cranberries and hemp seed meal, pomegranite and avocado salad with roasted pumpkin seeds, dried pumpkin chips, dried apple chips, mustard leaf stir-fry with fried rice and pomegranite, Sunflower seed brandy butter, and for dry winter skin: vanilla shea butter-coconut salve.
For a wonderful infusion of the ancient celtic magic of The Holly King, The Heart Healer, read this by Patricia Kaminski
I am counting my many blessings as this year rolls to an end, my sweet little family grows up, and life brings many new friends and gifts.
I find it hard to write, with so much to do- do you?
new years cards for me, hooray for the postal service!
hooray for blogger.com!
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
And then, I’m sitting in the waiting room and reading the paper, and an article catches my eye: 3 expert tries at fixing a 3 year olds sleep disorder, and the 4th just diy, and none of them really worked. And I’m reading this article and thinking: I could do that much better. They missed a few things... I have a few tricks up my sleeve with sleep. I want to become the Sleep Coach, or even better: The Dream Coach. For children, teens, and adults with sleep disorders... This just might be the topic for my new book. Is it now book number 5?
Lemony Lambsquarters Sprouted Tofu Salad
. Other ingredients are:
1 clove garlic, minced and crushed
3 Tbsp lemon juice
1 ½ Tbsp olive oil
1/4 Tsp. of salt
Pinch of pepper
2.) Mix in crumbled tofu, which can marinate for a half hour or more.
3.) Add Lambsquarters just before serving.
Enjoy a wild foraged salad! You will sleep well tonight, sweet dreams!
Saturday, September 3, 2011
So, I went for a walk to get some fresh anise which grows wild all around here, and I discovered blackberries! omg so many luscious gorgeous blackberries.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Now I sit perched in my own tiny cabin, on the edge of San Rafael, overlooking downtown, and beyond, the Bay glinting like a knife of promise...
I find myself needing to write about the journey of an empty-nester single parent, the journeys of so many other single parents, all of us waiting with baited breath at the verdict on our lives' work: our children.
We sit in this dissembling culture, holding on to the illusion which all the visual cues corroborate: that we are now on our own, that our children are on their own, that they are self-sufficient unto themselves, as the edicts of adulthood require. We are all self-sufficient, independent, differentiated humans, going off on separate, unrelated paths. That is as it should be, no?
Truth be told, I feel myself spread out over hundreds of miles, across oceans, separated painfully, on some basic psychic level, split in pieces. The Facebooks, the Skypes, the Text Messages, the phone calls: All contribute to a sense of sound-bite, shard, mosaic pieces with great big gaping gaps. My family is all over the planet, my sisters are spread over half, my children (my son) is 600 miles away and always struggling putting his projects together, my grandchildren are nearby to him, and safe and well taken care of, but they are not yet living together. This is a source of pain for all involved, and hopefully this new transition for him will rectify that...
To survive, I shut out that painful bit that I cannot change or control, and I see my single parent colleagues do the same: the noise in the back of our heads, the listening to our children's well being that we honed so well as we raised them by ourselves, now has to be quelled. We stop our listening, we pray, we take a pill, we chill, we meditate, we let go. On one level.
And this is the level of my spiritual trust: He will be OK. They will be OK. They are always OK. He is strong, kind, honest, hardworking, focussed, smart, creative, and full of good karma. The spring of his life is tightly wound still, he will unfold to the vast umbrella that wind will carry through the skies, us all holding eagerly to his ankles... to safety and security, at last.
I guess his is the impermeable balloon of trust, rolling with whatever happens, always safe, always secure, because his safety and security does not depend on any material or permanent thing.
This Trust, this innoculation against the anxiety that modern culture propagates, is what holds me, as well.
The world is full of everything I need to live: lovely homes, magnificent jobs to do, people who will work with me well and brilliantly, loads of money, cars and transport galore! I have lots to contribute to this world, and, on top of that, I believe I can cure our basic existential anxiety.
That will be my life's work, and all of our lives' work, for this is The Age of Anxiety, and it's eating us up.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Yesterday I spent forty-five minutes meditating at a new friend's beautiful shrine-space, fed and nurtured in her glowing creativity and the love of her friends and family, with twenty-eight Buddhas and twelve Quan-yen's staring back at me, and ocean glinting through her sunlit window. Downstairs, she quietly washed the dishes, and wrapped the left-overs for our other friend, my house-mate, who lay sprawled on the couch, relaxing and breathing out. Our three, in perfect repose.
Today, three things occurred: a wonderful email, a wonderful phone call from overseas, and a wonderful phone call from around the corner, each answering my deep prayers for resolution in a particular area of my life, and completing the process I've been working through for the last month.
No, things aren't fully resolved, as yet, but the cup is being held to my lips. It is for me now if I will do the drinking. The process of the last few months has been like being inside a hard leathered egg;
it's been comfortable and warm, a mass of gloopy things, starting to congeal. Today, the crack has occurred- I can see the light outside my warm gloopy world, I can see myself as separate and yet a part of the egg, and I am willing to leave behind this comfort, to emerge as a wildwoman, gag order removed!
My home, my work, and my passion are being fed today: the shell is breaking away and I must let it go, crashing to pieces my old ideas of what the world was. My small comforts and door plaques will give way to a new way of working, without couches or stuffed animals, with the imaginary world and the real world both infinitely available in telespace. I am becoming a telephone life coach, a family coach by phone and home visit, and a special occasion caterer.