Stretch Into It

Here's what it looks like when it snows on the mountain...a lovely enhancement to the colors of the sunset.

These days, it doesn't snow as much as it did in earlier years.  It makes it a bit easier to navigate the middle of winter, when everything gets stretched.  It's a time of quiet, of reflection, of challenge.  How long is it going to stay cold?  

What is there to DO???

Over last autumn, I had some visitors who were from the Yukon.  On a cold and blustery day, they told me this was like an August day, for them.  And, they suggested that I should visit their lovely area...Wow, it really is all in the way you look at it! It made me think, what could it be like to be in the winter eight months a year?

Stretching what you are, and what you have, is something you need to do in order to grow.  Staying in a place of snugness is good for nourishing your spirit, and making your heart strong.  However, in order to really be satisfied in life, you will need to do more than you are comfortable doing.  Reaching out to someone who is hard to deal with, making difficult choices...these are the stuff of real soul growth.  

When you are ready to take on the challenge of choosing to be more than you are today, of "taking the road less traveled", as Robert Frost put it, you will find that your life becomes immeasurably richer.  

Think of a possible dream that you may have put aside, thinking it was too difficult to make come true.  What made you decide that?  Are you being true to your own highest good by not giving yourself the chance to find out?  Are you hiding from yourself?

I've done that, and it really doesn't help.  What happened was that I stayed in a place of feeling like less, and kept happiness away.  I'm here to tell you it is worth stepping out, and making a stand for your dreams.  Since I dropped out of my belief in my own pain, and of the idea of the value of loneliness, and showed up for myself, I am far happier than I could have imagined being when I "played it safe, by playing small". 

In invite you to have a chat with me about what you REALLY want, and what is holding you back.  
Stretch yourself....You are worth it!

                Give yourself a chance! 

Yours in service,

Betty 

 

Old Wood and New Fruit

These pears are an example of what happens when everything goes right in the orchard.  Full of juice, smooth of skin, and tasty, they are the result of a happy tree.

To have fruit like this as the result of the season, certain things need to happen. There must be good rain in the winter, and during the dormant season, the tree must be nurtured and given direction.  Old wood needs to be removed so that new and vigorous growth can take place.  New buds are forming, and the energy of the tree is needed to support strong and healthy tissues.

The soil needs to be cultivated and given key minerals.  
A mysterious process of growth begins as soon as the old leaves begin to fall.  The bark of the tree takes on a different color while it is growing the new cells and shedding the old layers to allow for  growth.  A beautiful light green, it has a quality of seeming to be lit from within, showing the vigor of the tree, concealed by the seeming barrenness.

The same kind of process is taking place in human life, although it looks different.  During the winter, evaluating, planning, and enjoying what has been gained in the last season.  The rest of this season gives energy for the hopes and aspirations for the new season ahead, when nature will once again amaze us with her many gifts.  

It's a time of using up what has been set aside, for removing what no longer serves.  It's a time to notice every little thing that is good, as we make the efforts to keep ourselves comfortable.  Staying warm, staying dry, staying fed, these basic needs have much to teach us.

And, it's a time for looking ahead, setting goals and holding up to promises.  In this coming year, I promise to bring as much value as I can to the world, serving the creative spirit.  I am here in support of you, my reader.   Thank you so much for being part of my world.

As I recognize the power of change, and the power of language to create connection and change, I renew my commitment to women who want to make a difference in the world.  Do you have a project or an idea that you want to launch?

                What is it?  Let's talk. 


May your 2017 be filled with meaningful interaction, quiet joys, and rich fruits of the spirit.

Betty
 

Turning the corner

Here's a corner near where I live, a small flat space in the forest that links up to the road into the property.  It's so colorful and lush at this time of year.  It's a perfect illustration of the wealth of nature.

It's been a few weeks since I posted anything on this blog.  The huge fire to the north, the Soberanes Fire, went on for far longer than expected.  IN the end, it was the longest fire ever in Monterey county and the most expensive fire in the history of the United States.  It took its toll on everybody in big Sur.  Business basically went away for about two months or more.  It's been a scramble.  Fire preparations seemed to go on forever, until all that could be said was "well we are about as ready as we could be, if it comes here".  
I lived out of my suitcases for weeks, wondering when and if I would put my stuff in the car and make a break, hoping for the best.  

All of the hopes I had for the summer seemed like distant dreams as I had to turn away guests and face whatever would come.  All of my energy went into the mode of crisis management.  Every resource was used to its maximum, and it didn't feel like enough.

My heart cried, and I still feel the fatigue of adrenal and cortisol over-stimulation.  Slowly, my energy is returning to a level I can recognize.
It's going to be a while.  And I remember this, too...

I know that I have been lucky, since the fire changed direction and didn't come to this watershed.  I feel the blessing of that.  Every day that I wake up and see things more or less as they were, I am astonished.  Because nothing feels the same, and things can never be the same.  

Deep soul-searching and the need to face things as they are, rather than as we would like them to be, has been a part of this season for all of us.  I feel deeply the losses that friends of mine have endured, and cheer them on as they make the efforts to start over. 

Now it is the darkest time of the year, with the sun showing for shorter and shorter intervals each day.  I notice every detail of the quiet time, and I live in hopes for what can happen when the sun will turn.  

For me, the solstice is a time of fortitude, and of hope.  The celestial bodies have important things to say to us.  The forest feels quiet, in anticipation of new growth.  The stars have a special shine in the cold air.  A meteor appears, pink or green or orange, and quickly vanishes.  The moon hangs wisely above, saying "Wait and listen.  Good things are coming."

I am planning new projects and ways to share the beauty and wisdom of nature in the coming year. Inspiration is appearing from new places. Outside my door, the loquat tree is blooming fragrantly, and it is visited by hummingbirds even in the dark.  The quail are fat with fresh grass.

Hop over to the Writer's Launchpad and see more of what I am doing lately.


I wish you all the best during this season, and always. 

Growing Light from Within: What it Took

At the left is a drawing I made a few years ago of an oak tree on Nacimiento Road.  

I called this tree the Fortitude Oak, because it stretched out over the roadside pullout in such a way as to suggest vast power and inner knowing.  


It's good that I drew it when I did, for now it is only a memory when I drive past.  It was a casualty of the fire that came through the canyon, weakening it so that it broke in the winds over the winter.  Now, the drawing is the expression of what the tree meant to me.

This tree reminds me of times when standing firm was the only option.

As I learned what it was to be a mother and a pioneer, growing food, living with only the most basic necessities, a lot of my former ideas about life faded away, and I lived from one day to the next, with most days following a rhythm that went like this:  

Wake up, light a fire, look after the children.  Make food, get them dressed, find out what else they need.

Milk the goats, feed the chickens, gather the eggs.  Go out into the garden and plant, weed, water, or whatever else was needed.  Maybe cut firewood, maybe not.  Lunchtime.  Make food. Clean the house.  Do the laundry, start making dinner.  If there is time, do something creative like make clothing.

The family shows up, and instead of saying "Hi Mom!" they ask, "What's for dinner?"  Can't blame them for that, they were hungry. 
Have dinner, clear the table.  Talk about what needs to be done next, or answer to some concern of a family member. 
Wash up, get ready for bed.  Repeat.  

Time for creative activities was almost nonexistent at first.  Who I was, as a person, never came up!  It was enough to just keep things going.

Gradually I learned to find moments, bits and pieces of time, when I could make something, or write something.  Poems sometimes appeared in my mind, and I would scramble to write them down before they disappeared.  

Every once in a while I could write out a few pages of something that I felt I needed to express, even though nobody was reading it.  I kept my faith in my heart, and listened to the voices of nature telling me to keep going.

As this life continued, year after year, I got better at managing my time.  Things started to open up as the kids didn't need me quite so much.  They were getting more independent, and although I was still important to them, it was clear that life was going to keep on shifting.  Little by little, things were getting a bit easier.  It was slow going!

Just when I was saying "Does this go on forever?" I found that it was almost over.  Larger chunks of time were appearing, and the needs of my family changed.

I became able to start small businesses.  First it was selling eggs and small crafts; then selling cheese, and somewhat larger crafts, then honey was added to the list.  Bit by bit, I became more able to reclaim my identity as a person and not just a service provider.

I got into fashion expression, making lovely items that I was very proud to present to the world.  My idea of what I could do with my life grew.

It became possible to find new avenues of expression, and I got back into writing.  Eventually, I wrote my book "Prevail" and found a sense of mission, as I realized my experiences had value beyond my own life, and found ways to express that realization, that they could be useful to others in making their own lives better.

The journey for meaning and creative expression continues now, as I  am able to offer support for writers.  I am so grateful for the light that I guarded and kept within me, and for the way that it is growing now.  I cherish every bit of what I learned along the way, no matter how I learned it.

Do you want to find more time for your creative expression?

Learn how to build creativity into your day in a completely natural way, that supports the life you already have.

May your path always be lit!

Best wishes,

Betty

Your thoughts are the seeds of your life

The ferns at left are just emerging under the avocado tree. they are bracken ferns, which can get up to three feet tall, depending on how much rain falls in the year.

I have been told that they can be cured using wood ashes and made into snacks, marinated in oil.  I never did get around to trying that one.

I did learn a lot about the wild greens growing around the woods...with really cool names, like miner's lettuce, shooting stars, johnny jumpups.  all of these have edible greens high in vitamin C.  Many walks around the pthways also produced mushrooms for the rice, rose hips for he tea, and other wild medicines and teas that grow in abundance here.

As I learned more about the way Nature has of providing nutrients, I often marveled at how I seemed to be living the same life that people had lived here thousands of years ago, and yet, it was a modern age.  This, in a time when I had no phone and very little contact with the outside world!  

As I look at that time now, I see how the seeds of today were planted through noticing the beauties of nature, and the treasure of time in the quiet parts of the world.  Too much quiet, at times!  I felt at times like there was no other place in the world.  When a car came into the canyon, I could hear it from miles away, and know exactly where it was on the world.

I learned hard truths about life at a young age.  This has served me by making me resilient, and in knowing the power of the imagination to transform, to create new meanings out of raw experience, I have become far more than I ever could have imagined during those times. 

What seeds of your life do you want to grow?

"Sez You", she said

"Oh, You, who make easy what is difficult, make our way to be a garden, for it is to You that we go."...Rumi

My idea of living in nature had always been that there would be harmony and beauty all around me.  Here in the forest of Big Sur, where I landed with my infant son, his father, and a group of other people running from our pasts, this was the certainly visible.  Stunning beauty all around me, far from the influence of the outside world (or so it seemed), I was so happy to be out of the grind, and on to the dream.

As it turned out, the dream was still there, but it soon became obscured by the harsh realities of pioneer life:  a total lack of all modern conveniences may sound romantic until you have to live it.  

It rained every day for the first winter.  We had arrived on February 14th.  You could call it the death of romance, since the truth was that we spent all our time out in the rain cutting firewood to burn in the stove so that we could get our clothes dry again.  We were crammed in like sardines.  There was no privacy except out in the woods.  And more.  Doing the laundry by hand, performing backbreaking labor every day, we were out of touch with the rest of the world, which soon became more appealing, even though nobody wanted to go back where we had been.

Cabin fever became a menace that visited often.  I went out in the woods to yell and throw things until I was exhausted, out in the storms, and then went back inside to keep going, returning to my sleeping infant.  Somehow, I still believed in the dream.  I still knew that nature was a guiding force for me, and let's face it, I am one stubborn woman.  I found little projects to do that comforted me, with the small amount of materials I had.  Needle and thread, crochet hook...these became potent tools to maintain order and consciousness.  I began to understand the struggles of my fore-mothers in a new way.

People began to burn out.  When spring came, we all moved out to different tents, and barely spoke to one another unless we had to. 
I wrote letters to people that I remembered from earlier in life, and to my family.  We had no phone, so I only called people from pay phones when we were out on town runs.  I wrote little poems about the beauty that I still saw and felt in my soul.  Nobody saw them.  I tucked them away in books to protect myself from the anger and cynicism that my group was showing more and more often.  People argued constantly, with vicious insults hurled and relationships disintegrating.

Little books with pictures in them became my refuge.  I took my son on nature walks, and explained carefully to the baby what plant I was picking, and what it is used for.  He tells me that he still remembers those walks, now, as a father.  

Whenever a book came my way, I read it.  I cruised the local free boxes for cloth, books, decorations, to ease the stark reality of the poverty we were enduring.  My earlier life was a distant dream to me by then.  The struggle to survive had narrowed my world, and my options.  Now, I could draw and I could write, but who would ever really know what I was feeling?  The miracle is that today I am writing these words and you are reading them.

What was it that kept me going?  It can't be all stubbornness.  I had HELP!  Every day, nature and the unseen let me know that you can NEVER be truly alone.

I  always knew that I was held and protected by a Divine force, even in the worst times.  To this day, I am grateful for all of it, because I know that everything that I endured can be the way to help others.  I have never forgotten the beauty and the idealism that sustained me, the grace of being so naive that I was shielded from the big picture.  It's all useful.  That's what life is all about.  When you take something difficult, and make it useful, you transform its very nature, the difficulty fades away, and the gift remains.

Do you have something you want to transform?  Let's talk about it!