growing up

'Tis the season and once again Owen has asked me, "Is Santa real", I answered with the same vague assurance that "Magic is real". This year it fell a little flatter than last, which fell flatter than the year previous. He is almost 10 years old and is asking a sincere question, hoping for an answer that he has already stopped believing true. Owen is growing up and although I have never been a proponent of holiday hype, the loss of Santa IS a rite of passage. I pondered Owen's question for a few days and realized that he was ready.
Tonight, while Bodhi napped, Shane and I sat with him and answered his question. We told him that the spirit of giving is real, the magic is real. Taking his hands, I invited Owen to join the circle of magic keepers. We lit a candle. We sat cross legged in a circle, Shane, Owen and I. We invited Owen to help keep magic alive. His eyes teared at the loss, rites of passage aren't easy.

As his Mom, I have witnessed Owen's arrival in the world, with his deep, penetrating eyes still swimming in a sea of infinite possibility. I watched him grow, crawl, walk, run, read, and cope with a divorce and it's accompanying sorrows. I watched him mature and each new thing has been a celebration and a loss. He is taking the early steps into manhood. My hope is that he will bring the beauty, the hope, the magic and the mystery of childhood with him. As Owen stood and left the circle I stared after him and was reminded that as we leave childhood our magic isn't lost, it just translates into hope and hope kindled will forever remind us of a world ripe with possibility and awe. A world that, as magic keepers, it is our task to remember.

patience

"Be patient towards all that is unresolved in you and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms, like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Live the questions now."
-Rainer Maria Rilke

I can remember the first time I read those words. I was in my early twenties and I was composed entirely of the unresolved. Now, in my mid-thirties, I have glimpsed the hem of resolution. When a moment of clarity arises, I want to grasp it and hold it and in that attempt I crystallize around that passing glimpse of truth, hardening at the edges. This pertinent piece of advice from Rilke's, "Letters to a Young Poet", rings as true today as it did 15 years ago and I am reminded to breathe into the question and be patient.

I have been in a bramble of my own making lately...too immersed in my own glimmering reflection on the glassy surface of life to enjoy the wide horizon beyond. Like Narcissus, I tumbled into the clear water and for a while I floated uncertain in its murky depths and then something unusual happened...my gaze cleared and I found that where I once imagined myself isolated and alone there was now a feeling of buoyancy all around... a feeling of expansion...as if the wall of self expanded opening, breathing, letting go...and the petty "I" seemed like a dissonant chord in the distance amidst a mighty symphony of infinite beauty. AAAAHHHH! There is beauty all around.
As we approach Thanksgiving, I find myself overcome with gratitude for the whole of it. For the shit and the glory- for the year in total- for the losses and the pain, for the vistas and celebrations, for this moment of letting go.

Happy THANKSgiving
Happy ThanksGIVING!

snow

Snow, snow and more snow. Oh my! I must say that I have so little appreciation for all things cold and with winter dawning enthusiastically, I find myself dreaming of balmy nights and the swaying ebb and flow of sea on sand. Now I know how unproductive and un-present that is. I am not so far immersed in self pitying to miss my rebellion against what IS and yet when the snow falls in cascades of white, blanketing the city, I can't help but appreciate the beauty with a melancholic longing for Spring.

I woke up this morning to the busy chirping of 3 nine year old boys, talking Pokemon, talking girls, TALKING- at 6AM. I crawled out of bed and opened the door to tell them to keep the sound level down. I stumbled into the back room and my jaw dropped as I passed the window. The sunrise was extraordinary. As my eyes grew accustomed to so much beauty, I wondered how many take-your-breath-away-moments I have slept through. I savored this one alongside three oohing and awing boys and hope to wake up in time to enjoy the next one.

There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.

- Albert Einstein

This incredibly gorgeous woman is my mama and the fabulous dog trainer and founder of Dandy Dawgs Nine Lives for Canines. I just wanted to show her off, to let her know that I am so proud of her and to tell the world how glad I am glad to call her friend and mom.
I know it's a wee bit sappy, but hey anyone who knows me KNOWS that I AM a wee bit sappy.

hiking again

We went for a hike up in Evergreen at Alderfer's Three Sister Park and it was LUSCIOUS. The weather was utterly dreamy and the constant visual feast of moss and snow, field and wood was satisfying in a way that only nature can be. Bodhi was dressed in his Pirate best and yelled "ON JARD (close to 'on guard')" to any passerby worth their salt. Owen looked absolutely dashing in Papa's borrowed hat and entertained himself with a constant dialogue of Pokemon sightings and adventures that drove the other members of the party to distraction, particularly those adult members straining for the nourishing sound of silence. Maya(the dog) made it all the way through the hike without serious threat of bodily harm from leash weary parents and Mama and Papa were just happy to be in nature with two happy boys on a brilliant afternoon. "Don't just do something. Stand there!"
-Buddhist saying

The moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.
-Henry Miller

brrrr

HUH!!! Snow already...yep and we have been quite ill to top it off. Shane and Bodhi had a mild case last week and Owen came down with a meaner version over the weekend and I, being the family canary, had the full frontal flu, respiratory, cold, migraine combo by Monday. Of course I had to come down with it when the boys had two snow days off school..."Oh mom can you please come out and play"...a low groan of descent emerges from beneath a eucalyptus haze of chills and disbelief. I stumble about cladding children in snow gear and wool, then boot them unceremoniously out of doors where they joyously play for a half an hour before re-entering, cold, wet and hungry. Oh the only worse thing than being sick is being a sick mama. The boys mitigated the discomfort by performing an impromptu puppet show on my bed... and Owen entertained himself building an elaborate snow fort, complete with an intricate story about another world with castles, secret tunnels, various chambers, villains and heroes. Here he is pictured lying in the King's sleeping chamber. I spent several long moments looking for him, too hoarse to call out, before I was finally relieved to see a hand emerge.
Both boys are now ensconced in the rich fragrant aroma of hot cocoa and I am retiring once again to my warm bed.

So here is a little Halloween preview...a Johnny Appleseed improvisation (one of Bodhi's favorite celebrities)AND one of Sendek's, Wild Thing's (costume courtesy of Mom- made while Bodhi napped and the sick patient, Owen, listened to a book on tape). As soon as he donned the monster costume he yelled, "I'll eat you up" and within five minutes he said, "I don't want to be a monster anymore for Halloween. I want to be a bat.", to which I kindly responded, "TOUGH!"

We don't see things as they are. We see things as we are.
Anais Nin

One of those terrifying revelations of truth, which, when accepted, has the power to irrevocably change the way we inhabit the world.

hiking

When I hike, I usually take my camera, it has become one of my greatest teachers. Before I began taking pictures with the avidity of a dog chasing a bone, I wandered through the woods without seeing. I had to remind myself to look, to listen, to be. I remember one horrible trek over Granite Mountain in Arizona, I was 22 and I was beset by the demon of self. I kept trying to see, to smell, to shut up for five minutes and experience the instant in which I stood in the shadow of pinetrees. I began crying in defeat. Eventually I just let go, I listened to my mind babble away, only occasionally looking around with present moment clarity, usually when startled out of my reveries by other hikers, scat on the trail or an unusually loud rattle. Then I was given my beloved Canon Rebel XTi. I began hiking with it's weight hanging over my breast and something changed. I felt more peace, I breathed deeper, I listened, I stood in awe more, I was quiet longer, I smiled mostly and I lingered. I stopped listening to me and began looking for beauty everywhere. I find it there, where it always is, just beneath our nose, beaming. Now I pause in front of a black widow, a powdery branch, a blaze of color, water rushing over stones and looking through my camera lens, I find it- that perfect moment and snap, then it is gone. My camera has become one of my greatest teachers, helping me to remember that although the lens of self may be small, mortal and narrow- it is still capable of witnessing enormous beauty ... if only we keep looking.

Here are some moments from today's hike:
In the fields...
At the creekside...
and in the woods...
There really is beauty every where.

sunday hike

What is Angelina's favorite weekend activity? ... Yep, hiking in nature, preferably on a warm day, surrounded by life breathing and buzzing, swaying and being. Today we selected Lair o' the bear, a perrenial favorite. The guys and I walked for the first mile together, winding through dry grasses, tinged yellow and orange by the hand of Autumn.

I always love the way nature doles out one beautiful chance to open after another. This time we ran across a caterpillar. The fuzzy creeper produced a chorus of oohs and aahs. I have never seen Bodhi more gentle. Both boys watched in rapture as the little body edged it's way over extended hands and arms, eventually landing on a blade of fiery grass intent on lunch.
Owen get's so quiet and cool when he is exploring...
Bodhi becomes even more animated, if that is possible.Shane turns into a child again, eager for play and with the abandon of a Lost Boy he casts off his cares creating boats and vessels from twig, leaf and grass, excited by the possibilities ahead.After the first mile, Maya and I left the guys playing near a stream and ventured up into the hills for a 4 mile solo trek, armed with a camera and breathing in the fresh air of solitude with nourishing abandon.
(stay tuned for more pictures from the journey)

pumpkin festival

Saturday was spent kicking up dust at the Annual Pumkin Festival fundraiser for the Botanical Gardens. WHEW! talk about exhausting. We arrived at 10AM and left at 3PM dragging four weary boys behind us(or was it the other way around). In the intervening hours they rode rides, ate corn on a stick, all things greasy and drank gallons of lemonade. They wandered through an intricate corn maze for a half an hour before throwing caution to the wind and taking an unauthorized short cut to the exit. The youngest member of our party ogled lamas, caressed pony manes and even talked to a real witch, moonlighting as a balloon artist. We scavenged for pumpkins and looked for the three big boys in our keep. In the end we drug our selves home and admitted defeat. There is no way to outlast a child in a battle of fun, you may stay awake longer but you are inevitably far worse for the wear.

I've simply been too tired to post...what with family visiting, sick children and the constant rush of living, I find myself parched for rest.
I will post later, once I have reached the end of the alphabet with a prolonged pause on the zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

first pumpkin carving of the year

WOW!!! Bodhi is ecstatic with Jack-o-Lantern fever...he speaks of pumpkins with the ardor of youth. "LOOOOOK, LOOOOOK MOMMY A JACKOLLATN!!!"
After the pumpkin was thoroughly cleaned and carved we lit a candle and oohed, awed and marveled over our handiwork.In honor of our pumpkin frenzy we had a harvest supper, beginning with ratatouille served over a bed of spring greens and broiled polenta, topped with freshly roasted pumpkin seeds. For dessert we made a gluten-free chocolate pumpkin cake with maple-pumpkin frosting. AAAAAAAAAAHHH! Autumn we love you.

a walk

I went for a walk, one of my favorite walks, up green mountain. I progressed slowly. Without children or deadlines, I just walked. It has been a difficult week, beleaguered by a body unwilling to comply with the demands I impose on it. A body whose heart beats erratically, thyroid waxes and wanes of its own selection, whose head throbs in response and whose limbs refuse to operate without sustained rest. Weeks like these remind me that I inhabit a body, but am not the body (and certainly not this busy thing we call a mind)...I am reminded that things happen in life. I don't need to resist or personalize them. As I walked I found myself simply placing one foot in front of the other and reveling in the awe of sharing life with so much beauty: a dead bloom against a blue sky, a powdery blossom along a russet hued trail, the gentle flutter of butterflies and the crunching sound of hiking shoes on a trail. After several days gripped by the vice of a migraine, I just didn't have the energy for mind talk and because of that something beautiful happened. I just walked. Without thought of groceries, work, children, time, purpose or even God. I just walked and my heart bloomed in gratitude. It reached out to the beauty all around me and bathed in kinship, reverence and awe. Perhaps that is gratitude. Simply embracing the moment as it comes, without the babbling mental bullshit that we entertain every breathing hour. Perhaps it is enough to simply walk.