Matters of Grace

This year I decided to add to the holiday by making our very own Advent calendar using that most wondrous of materials: felt. (I love felt) Gracie assisted by holding my materials down I stitched a little pocket for each day (and admit that by pocket 6, I was wondering what on earth possessed me to want to stitch an Advent calendar in the first place) But after a few days of vigorous stitching, I finished all 24 pockets; here they are: ......now all I need are some stockings to match: (Working on them) :) Peace of the season!

Autumn has always been a favorite season of mine, and it's only natural for me to get out onto a trail and savor the season's offerings. Also, I hike whenever I feel confused as hiking clears the mind. All through the Summer I've been confused about the Yoga class I was teaching at a local Dojo. Deeper than that, I was confused about how I felt about teaching Yoga at all; suffice it to say that, above most other industries, the machine of American Yoga is knee deep in empty promises and worthless ego-feeding spiel. For other areas of business, empty promises do not bother me; however, Yoga is something I care about and believe in. Linda-Sama, from the blog Linda's Yoga Journey, said it best: "Fancy arm balances and pretzel poses no longer impress me. Show me how you live your life and what you can give up for 10 days at a retreat without complaint -- that will show me what you've learned from yoga. Show me your service and gratitude." Though I do not b

.... don't even think about trying to escape. Yesterday I had a really, REALLY bad day. It was the type of day where you wake up thinking life is good, then half way through realize it's nothing but a steaming pile of unpaid bills gone to collections (with interest.) The type of day that makes you want to sing old blues songs, like: Once I built a tower to the sun, Brick and rivet and lime, Once I built a tower, now it's done, Brother, can you spare a dime? It was the type of day that makes you want to cry out things like 'why me' or 'it's not fair!' And people try to come to you and say things like 'it's okay' or 'one day at a time' or some other pithy phrase that makes you feel like this: And just when I wanted to crawl into a dark pit, cover myself with ashes and dwell in my misery forever, I looked up to see my three kids...... ...and they were d a n c i n g . All three of them were smiling and cutting a rug, wavin

The Karuk Indians lived in Northern California and were known as the Upper River People. History is not fair; like countless other cultures, the Karuk are now all but forgotten by the masses. The following is from a conversation between two Karuk elders, c: 1900. Translated by Julian Lang; I found it interesting and post it now for your edification: The Old People were following the Ikxareeyavs , the Spirit People , all the time. All the People did the same long ago; whatever the Ikxareeyavs did, the People did. And the things that the Spirit People ate, that was all the Old People ate. That's what they were told, "You must eat this kind of food" So the Spirit People ate salmon and they spooned up acorn soup, eating salmon along with acorn soup. And they ate deermeat. And the Old People claimed that the Spirit People ate two meals a day. And so that's the way the Old People did as well. When the white people came, the Old People said "they are eating food

One of the easiest ways to connect with the Earth and her wheel of the year is to eat local foods. There are the obvious benefits to eating locally, such as cutting down on the amount of toxins spewed into our air because the foods do not have to be transported half way around the world. Also, local produce tends to have a fuller, richer flavor having been picked fresh and ripe from the trees. But there are subtle benefits as well. To me, there is something heart-warming about supporting small farms; the act of buying a few apples not only helps a family to earn a living, it somehow offers a connection to my own family history, and the history of all mankind. Working the earth with one's hands and seeing those efforts come to fruition brings satisfaction on a deep, deep level. “ Burn down your cities and leave our farms, and your cities will spring up again as if by magic; but destroy our farms and the grass will grow in the streets of every city in the country. ” - William J

The bud stands for all things, even for those things that don't flower, for everything flowers from within, of self-blessing; though sometimes it is necessary to re-teach a thing its loveliness, to put a hand on the brow of the flower, and re-tell it in words and in touch, it is lovely until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing. -Galway Kinnell

I decided to celebrate the Spring Equinox by riding my newly repaired beach cruiser to work and back. What a difference it made with my (usually) drab commute.... ... I would have never guessed that the very fields I had zipped by, morning after morning were, in reality, ripe with wildflowers, butterflies and songbirds! As I peddled along I was surrounded by the sweet delicious aroma of life and there was no one around to share it with aside from the egrets, songbirds and fiddlenecks. John Lennon was right; life is what happens when we're busy doing... whatever it is we think we are doing. In any case, I think I'll be taking my bike from now on. mas rica.