The Push to Create

 For the past few weeks I've had the need to create. For me this comes in so many forms, none of which I've perfected--if that's even possible. But each method satisfies the need in it's own way. 

• Painting
• Gourd art
• Spinning
• Drawing
• Photography
• Writing
• Cooking
• Singing

The problem I was running into was time. Life is so busy, especially this time of year, and by the time I would have time when I could create, I'd be mentally and/or physically exhausted. I'd sit on the sofa and tell myself I'd just watch one show or sappy Christmas movie, or I'd just read for a little while. But by the time the movie was over, I just wasn't able to expend more enregy to prepare to create something, much less actually create. Or I would read until I could barely keep my eyes open. 

I experience this drive to create pretty frequently. This last time it came from the over-consumption of social media videos showing how to paint a particular scene, fun ways to boost the asthetic value of a cheap image from the thrift store, or crafts that use everyday items to make cute animals or the like. 

And wow... In looking back, this drive started beore Halloween. I was never able to paint my face for Spooky Season, and so that little tingle in my brain that was coming up with creative ways to scare the kids on the big day was never satisifed. The consumption continued and cuased a buildup until it felt like I would explode if I didn't release the pressure. It didn't help that my e-spinner is sitting on my dining room table, the bobbin all wound with beautiful spun fiber, just begging me to finish the roving and start another.

So, this need... this drive to create ahs been a constant, unrelenting push that only grew over time as I ignored it. Even this blog entry sat ruminating in my mind for over a week before I finally put fingers to keys and started typing. And at first I thought what drove me to that point was the physical creation of a painting, but as I began to write that out, I realized that wasn't the driving factor. 

What pushed me to sit down and write this post... Well, I was standing in the kitchen, phone in hand, and I started typing out a message to a dear friend. I was going to tell her all about the intensity of this latest drive to create and share a picture of the painting I made. But as I typed, I realized I was sending her the words I would use to create this post. And so I deleted the message, opened my computer, and got to work.  

Creating things--even the things that aren't as beautiful as they were in my mind's eye--is an activity that can be a form of meditation, a disconnection from the pounding go-go-go of reality. In the end, the release of that pent-up energy is uplifting. It's a weight lifted from my soul, allowing me to see in a better light. 

However different it may be from person to person or even day to day, creation is something we all need. Creation brings us closer to ourselves and our god(dess)(es), however you view the spiritual realm. 

My favorite artists are the Great Creator and Mother Earth. Just look at the beauty I tried to capture during the first snow of the season...

What have you created lately?

New Chapters

As time passes, we are reminded that everything in life is ever-evolving. Things are always changing. Sometimes it's big like a new car. Sometimes it's not so big, like a new coffee maker. Either way, we experience change daily. 

On our little homestead, this season marks the turning of a page, and the start of a new chapter. The closing of the last chapter is a hard one. But it still comes with gratitude. 

As I walked from the garden Saturday evening, a shovel in one hand and an empty pet carrier in the other, I was hit by the juxtaposition of my feelings. You see, as the sun set, I dug a hole in which to lay my sweet, tenacious Gracie. She was the oldest hen in the flock after what felt like too short a time from losing Mine and then Toot, who were both Gracie's age. 

Nine years ago Gracie was the first chick I ever picked out. A little ball of black fluff darting around the pen at the local feed store, she caught my eye becuase she stood out from the rest. "I want that black one," I told the girl catching four chicks for us. My son had already picked one. The other two were random.

Gracie turned out to be an amazing hen in so many ways. She was beautiful, of course, with cheek tuffs and black feathers laced with bronze, and her eggs were a bright blue. She was also dominant and watchful. When a fox was out in the field behind the coop, it was Gracie, not our rooster, sounding the alarm. When we lost our first roo, Gracie even made crowing sounds. She was a survivor, too. When a fox did attack the flock, Gracie led the counter attack while Toot ran the youngest to safety. We were without a rooster then, and the rest of the hens fought back against the fox. Eventually, though, that furry beast took off with Gracie's huge body in her mouth. She did drop our girl in the garden where I was able to calmly approach and catch her for examination. After only a week in the infirmary, Gracie was back with her feathered sisters. 

Mine was my son's first pick chick. (Thus her name. 😊) This girl also sported silvery cheek tuffs and deep golden feathers that shifted to silver toward her tail, and she laid green eggs. She was a middler in the flock. Not dominant, but not at the bottom either. She would snuggle in on the roost, and even let younger pullets nestle under her wings. She was an easy catch, and so calm and gentle in our arms. When the folck would free-range, Mine was always at the front of the pack for bedtime. In fact, Mine always went to bed while everyone else was still out looking for food. 

Mine & Gracie

Then there was Toot. Toot came to us with our first order from Meyer Hatchery. She was a Buff Orpington, chosen for her golden color, friendly nature, and frequent laying of big, brown eggs. We had three originally. Toot outlived Buffy and Pumpkin by many years. She earned her name because every time we'd pick her up as a chick, she would squawk loudly. At some point in her life, she had damage to her eyes that caused her pupils to always be pinpricks. Despite this, she could at least see light and shadow and was still a strong forager. And she was the very best mama hen. Toot hatched and raised Fluff, Cheerio, and Dinky, and she mothered all of the other young pullets we introduced over the years. (Orpingtons are known for this quality.) But, woo! Do NOT approach a broody Toot! She turned into a dragon when she was broody or mothering, and she would actually chase us! Signs of a good mom, right? 

Toot with baby Dinky

This spring I returned all three of these wonderful birds to Mother Gaia. I did so with both the deepest sadness and profound gratitude. Sad, of course, because they were gone. But profoundly grateful that they chose us to spend this lifetime with. They each gave us nine amazing years full of love and wonder. We are so very sad that they are gone, but they will forever be in our hearts, warming us with memories of their individual and fantastic personalities. 

I need to also mention Gatelocker. She was also one of the first group of chicks from the feed store. Her coloring was similar to Mine, but she was golden throughout with silver lacing. She didn't have the cheek tuffs, but instead had a gorgeous shape to her head feathering that made her look elegant. Like an Egyptian goddess or a ancient carving of a lion. Her personality was much like Mine within the flock, but she was anything but calm in human relations. She ran as fast as she could to avoid capture and would flap her wings to make hodling her difficult. 

In August 2021 Gatelocker got sick. She held on for a while, but as we prepared for vacation I found myself writing a note to the sitter on how to handle the situation if she passed while we were away. She took that responsibility away the morning we were to leave. I found her limp, her comb purple, and her breathing extremely labored. She was dying, and I knew I had to end her suffering. It was one of the hardest things I have ever done, but I knew I had to do it. I prayed for her, and I spoke to her and told her how much we loved her. Then I dug a hole and laid her inside. (She was released before burial.) 

Understandably, I was a mess, and as I kneeled in the damp morning grass beside the fresh grave, I prayed. I asked for forgiveness and for a sign that I had done the right thing. At that moment, a small creature rustled the grass in front of me, and a peaceful knowing settled over me. All was as it should be.

As I have evolved, I have become hyper aware of what our flock provides us. Eggs, sure. But there's so much more. There's love just because they are living creatures. There's wonder at how much they transform as they grow from fluff-ball chicks into regally-feathered adults. There's amazement at their individual personalities. There's humor in the little things they do with those personalities. They are part of our family.

And it's because of all these things, along with my own expansion, that I return them to the Earth as I do. I open space and speak to Spirit before breaking ground. It's setting the intention of returning the physical body to the womb of Mother Gaia for transmutation and transformation as the soul is set free. As I lay our beloved bird in the ground (and I did this for our Betta, too), I do so with love and gratitude for the time we had. And I ask the Mother and Father to welcome her (or him) with their unconditional love. At the closing, I say a little prayer of thanks again. For everything. Because this life may have some really tough times, but in the end I am so deeply grateful for each and every experience. 

So we enter this summer season (2023) with all of our original flock passed on to greener pastures, where the treats are endless and there is no threat of predators. Cheerio is now our oldest at 7 years, but we have 9 new chicks feathering in and 8 more coming in June. Time passes and always leaves its mark, but we have the power within to see the gifts even through the hardest changes. 

Blessed be, my friends.

Full Circle

It's funny how, as children, we think we know exactly what we want out of life only to grow into a life that throws us curve balls and changes our views. 

Hold fast to dreams

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird

That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams

For when dreams go

Life is a barren field

Frozen with snow.

                        ~Langston Hughes 

When I was in first grade art class, we painted a picture of what we wanted to be when we grew up. Now, as an adult, I think that assignment is preposterous. What 6-year-old really knows what they want to be? And why do adults think it's okay to put that kind of pressure on such young, evolving minds. But when I painted my picture, I wanted to be a veterinarian. 

Then, just before my 12th birthday, my dog died. I was there in the vet's office that day. I knew he had been sick, and that he was old. I rememeber my mom crying, and my dad taking me out of the room to sit in the waiting room. That was the first time I'd heard the words put to sleep, but I didn't know what they meant. At that point in my life, sleeping was exactly that. It was also the first time I heard the word euthanasia, although I wouldn't remember such a complicated word until years later. 

That day my dream of being a veterinarian died alongside my childhood friend. 

But animals still ruled my world, to be sure, and soon after that my love for horses was allowed to blossom into a full-fledged passion. 

There were so many "problems" with the path I wanted to take and how the world was set up for people of my generation and economic standing. I was expected to go to college and get a 4-year degree, so I searched hard for a school that offered the education I was looking for without taking me far from home.

It's important to note that my parents were nothing but supportive of my dreams. For Christmas one year in high school, they gave me a book called Careers for Horse Lovers. I read that book cover to cover and landed on breeding. It fit with my passion for horses and my interest in genetics. 

The problem was that there were very few colleges that offered equine majors, especially ones that were closer to home for me. (I had medical reasons for wanting to be close to home, and I had always been tightly tied to my family.) My high school guidance counselor didn't know what to do with a young girl who wanted to go to college to learn about running a horse breeding farm, so I was basically on my own. 

It was no different once I did find a school that offered what I wanted and was close to home. The school had other issues for me personally, but the biggest was that I had discovered I could learn more in the barn than the classroom. I had also discovered a love for writing. When I went to my academic advisor seeking guidance, he told me to switch my major to Mass Communications and minor in Equine Studies. 

Without getting into it, Mass Comm was not for me. It wasn't at all what I was looking for, and so college quickly became an expensive prison against which I began to rebel. 

At one point, I took a continuing education class at the sustainable living center at that school. It was a simple class where we learned how to drive the paired Percheron draft horses. We took turns driving them with a wagon, and then we got to try our hand at plowing. The ground was hard, and the horse-drawn plow was not easy to control because you had to keep the horses moving and going straight while also using your feet to press the plow into the soil to create a trench for the seeds. The first two rows were split between most of the students, and neither one had a straight stretch. Like I said, it was hard. 

On the third row, my turn started just past a third of the way in. I drove those massive black beauties straight and true, keeping a consistent depth to the trench. The teacher told me to finish the row, but at the end, he aksed me to turn them and do the next row. To my delight, he was so happy with my control, he had me finish the small field. 

As I write this, remembering this little detail of my first steps into life as an adult, I realize I was put there for a reason. I was being tested, but I wasn't ready to step up. And life was going to throw me more curves to test my determination. I would founder each time, drawing more and more back into a shell of the woman I was meant to become. . .

• I flopped at college.
• I lost my horse to colic.
• I lost so much in a house fire.
• I got lost in a controlling relationship.

This was a span of almost 10 years, and it's important to point out that there were underlying systems that were driving me on this unfulfilling path, and a lot more happened than what I've listed here. 

By this time I had given up on my dreams of having a farm. With the loss of my horse, I had given up on ever having another. I didn't want to go through that pain again. And I certainly didn't beleive I could ever afford one. 

But Spirit--God, Source, Creator, whatever you choose to call that divine energy--has a way of bringing you back if you're willing to be quiet and listen. Since my husband and I moved our family to our current little homestead 14 years ago, my adolescent dreams have reawakened. They aren't exactly the same now, because my own expansion as a sovereign being has sparked life into surrounding interests. Interests that weave together to create a beautiful tapestry of education and regeneration. 

My biggest concern at this point is that so much time has passed since those dreams were born in a young heart. I still have very BIG dreams, though, and while I recognize that I may need to make shifts, that doesn't mean I can't reach them if I put my heart and soul into it. I have even watched as some dreams have manifested and shown me that all things are possible. 👇

Never give up on your dreams. They were put in your heart becasue you were meant to achieve them. 

Spirit Animals

In pop culture today, the term "spirit animal" has become a buzz word (or phrase). It's tossed around like the latest seasonal fashion with a total disregard for what it actually means. It's commonly used in memes picturing animals doing something funny or being lazy like this:

While these are cute and funny, they are in fact disrepectful of what a spirit animal actually is. 

Now, I'm going to put myself at risk here, because I have heard some say that unless a person is Native American use of the term is cultural appropriation. However, I have done some digging into this, and the idea of spirit animals is found across the world. Across cultures. Throughout time. 

The Druids, Scandinavians, and other northern European cultures believed animals had spirits and carried messages from the spirit realm. The ancient Egyptians worshipped deities with animal heads like dogs and falcons. Hindus worship the elephant-headed god, Ganesha. Buddhists believe that animals have sprits and are reincarnated, as are humans. Shamans use spirit animals in their spiritual work. And, of course, there are the Native Americans--North, South, and Central--for whom the animal world is of such importance as to be medicinal.  

You see, I'm not trying to take anything away from any culture here. But I think it needs to be recognized and acknowledged that the concept of "spirit animals" or "animism," which is the belief that animals have spirits, is not unique to any one culture. And I beleive that as long as you are respectful in your use of the term and are using it appropriately, you have a right to do so because spiritualism does not belong to any one culture or region. As humans, we are naturally inclined to try to connect to a higher source, no matter what we call it. If working with animal spirits through spiritual practice feels right to you, then go for it. 

One thing I didn't mention above, but something that is intrguing to say the least, is the fact that even across the world, cultures that had no contact with each other generally gave the same attributes to animals. But an animal spirit comes to a person because it has a message for them. It doesn't even always have to be what is "prescribed" by books or online spirit animal guides, no matter how they may all match up. 

This past Spring I began a shamanism course. The path is completed in four courses that align with the seasons and compass directions. Each season we work with a spirit animal. This animal serves as our messenger and guide for the season, and we work with him or her in shamanic journeys.

In Spring we journeyed for another person to find their spirit animal for the season. The reason for this is it removes bias, self-judgement, and expectation. I was lucky enough to be paired with my good friend, Sandy (https://sowhatirun.com/). After our journey, we told of how we came to find our partner's animal. Sandy told of all the animals she's worked with coming to her, surrounding her, until finally she yelled, "Who is here for Jamie?" 

All went quiet, and then a big beautiful silverback Gorilla came charging out of the forest. "I am!" he declared. When she asked if he had a message for me, he replied, "Be fierce." 

Now, Gorilla was not in my book, Animal Speak, by Ted Andrews, and information was difficult to find online, too. What I could find said that Gorilla signifies gentle leadership, dignity, communication, and community. But I needed to understand why he had come and what he meant by "be fierce," so I journeyed with him many times. 

We are now in Summer, and as such, I have a new spirit animal to work with. This one was chosen by pulling cards from my instructor's spirit animal deck. Before she pulled mine, she looked at me and said, "Jamie, I don't want Spider. I see spiders all around you, so I'm just putting that out there." 

Now, most people would probably freak out at this statement, but I have a deep respect and admiration for spiders. "It's funny you say that," I told her, "because Spider is one of my power animals." (On a totem, power animals are at the base and the strongest animals for that particular person. Generally they are with the person for life. I don't do totems, but I do believe some animal sprits are with us for our lifetime, and thus I believe in power animals.)

She drummed to celar my aura, and then started shuffling the deck for a card. It didn't take long at all for a card to literally flip out of the deck. (If you don't know about oracle cards, when your doing a card pull, you ask a question (not yes or no) you shuffle the deck until a card slips out. That's your card. You can read the deck's guide book and use intuition to help you relate it to the question you are asking.) Anyway, my spirit animal card didn't just slip out when she shuffled. It came out of the top of the deck and flipped around in a circular motion. 

Can you guess what card it was when she picked it up? 

A bit mindblowing considering the conversation immediately preceding the card flipping out of the deck, right? Even as someone who has experienced so many little events like this, it never ceases to amaze.

We have journeyed with our spirit animals for the season, but Spider has been absolutely everywhere. Now, I know what you may be thinking. It's summer. It's hot. There are lots of bugs. Of course there are lots of spiders. I get it. 

But spiders are usually in the corners of a room, between the pickets on the fence or handrail, in the grass. I have all of that, yes. But I have also had spiders drop beside me on my bed. Or crawl onto me while I'm at my desk working. I even had one show up in the shower, struggling to climb the damp, tiled walls and then sitting in a safe spot until I got out.

They are EVERYWHERE. 

Spider is a symbol of creativity. She encourages you to explore your creative side. As a spinner and weaver, Spider's creative symbolism is especially powerful for writing. And so, when Spider shows up for those who write, it is advisable to take heed. 

Gorilla and Spider work together for me. Gorilla demands me to sit and write. He is fierce as he tells me to be. Meanwhile, Spider is gentle with me as long as I'm paying attention. As long as I get little bits done here and there, she seems content. But together they have a braoder message. Not only are they telling me to wirte, to put my stories down in a tangible way, they are also telling me to quit hiding. Together Gorilla and Spider are telling me to write and publish. Put my words out there for others to read. Because everyone has a story, and we never know how our story may impact those who read it. 

Many blessings to you, readers. I am forever grateful to you.  

Celebrating Mother Earth

The day before Earth Day my son and I went to the library. He needed some more graphic novels to devour, and I. . . well, I didn't need any books, but I came home with a few. The focus, as most have been these past 2-3 years, was spirituality. This is a broad subject, if you think about it, and the library has several sections that would fit the bill. . .

While my son went to his preferred section, I headed along the stacks toward the nonfiction section. I really didn't have anything in particular I was looking for. After all, I was at the end of a book recommended by a friend, and I needed to finish it before I fall into another. So, I went with the intention of just browsing anything that grabbed me. (If I'm totally honest, almost everything on a book spine or cover grabs my attention simply because it's a book.) 

As I passed the printers and sit-down catalogs, my attention was drawn to the digital catalog several rows in front of me. There were four right next to me, but I went toward this one. Again, I had no idea what I would search for because my spiritual interests are broad and span across genres. But, when I got to the desk and looked at the screen I saw this. . .

I may have laughed out loud when I read it. 

My first thought was, Holy shit! Message heard, Universe.

I glanced at the call number and headed to the shelf. There was a woman there, but she was looking at the opposite shelf. Still, I found myself wishing slightly that she would be the person who had searched for the Spirit Hacking book. Alas, she was not. I stooped to the level where the book should be, and when I found where it had obviously resided, I ran my finger along the empty space where the spine would have been.

Here's where it gets a bit, well, weird. (If you didn't already think this was weird.) That empty space spoke to me, and Spirit guided my finger to the left. There was a copy of The Universe has Your Back, by Gabrielle Bernstein. I had literally listened to Oprah interview her on the Super Soul Conversations podcast a day or two before. While the book they were discussing had been Gabrielle's new book scheduled for release this summer, they mentioned this one a few times. 

Let me give a breif backstory here. . . Last March, after everyone had been declaring their "word of the year," a gifted woman gave me mine. I wasn't actively participating in such things as it just feels like another form of New Year's resolutions. But this woman, while talking to someone else, said the word TRUST, and I heard it like a chime. Then Spirit said to me, "Yes, trust! Trust in yourself. Trust in the process." In this aspect trust also means surrender, and that is hard. The message hasn't gone away. It's still part of my everyday messages. And over a year later, I am still learning the how of it.

So, back in the library, I pulled the book from the shelf and looked at the cover. Apparently I was going home with this book becasue it's all about trust and surrender. Since I now had one book, I figured I'd look at more. I found two more, one by Brene Brown, and the other a collection of stories about women around the world who were able to overcome the odds and make a difference. 

I went back to the catalog. I don't remember what I searched for, but I found another section with more books about meditation, spirituality, and rituals. On the bottome shelf was a small book with a waxy paper cover, Earth Energies Meditations. I pulled it out and opened it to the beginning of Part IV, Rooted in Spiritual Authenticity. I turned the page. . . 

BOOM! 

Chapter 10. Living Your Truth. Ok, now I'm really listening. 

I read that first page and part of the next, closed the book, and added it to my stack. This was meant for me, obviously. You see, I was attending a celebration of Mother Earth at a local spiritual gathering that weekend. Adding that to the message of trust convinced me I was lead to this book, and indeed this page. 

When I got home, I went outside and read this prayer aloud. 

That Saturday, April 23rd, I went with my good friend to Laughing Stone Hollow for a day of celebrating Gaia with like-minded people. It was a full immersion into a profound experience. We sang the Water Song, gifted by the Algonquin people, while performing a water ceremony. As we walked out to the stream, a bald eagle rested on the ground next to the pond in the next field. I experienced my first sound bath, where I felt my spirit pulled down into the Earth by the deep resonance of the singing bowls and lifted from my body by the windchimes. We closed with a fire ceremony.

It was an amazing experience. 

Ceremony Circle

I started wrting this entry the week after the ceremony, but I got so far and stopped. Spider came to visit, then, telling me to write. I didn't. I had way too much going on at work and in life. So it sat. For weeks. A constant reminder in an open tab. 

That week I started another course in shamanism for the East Direction. In that first class, we were paired up for journeying and gifted a spirit animal guide by our partner. My dear freind gifted me Gorilla, and that is my tale for next time. 

Until then. . . 

Happy Gardening & Love Your Mother 🌎!

Preparing for the Future

 I've had many things I've wanted to write about thes past few weeks. Months, really. But life gets in the way of getting them down, and so they sit in the back of my mind waiting for their turn. Some wilt and come back to life when watered by research or rain from outside sources. Some do eventually die, if only because of my own inability to accept that their message is something someone else out there needs or wants to hear. And some sit there, glowing in their own source of divine energy. 

This post is one of those last. This topic was sent to me over and over by divine source. Call it a message from God, if you like. While I use the word God to describe such a source sometimes, I tend to use Spirit more. It feels more universal, and not in a human belief way. Universal in an all-encompassing way. 

But I digress. . .

I'm here today to write about something that has been glowing in its own light at the back of my mind for several years. It started before Covid, but the pandemic served to amplify it. And watching how people reacted to the pandemic and the aftermath we are currently experiencing solidified it. 

Some will read this message and say I've slipped into "survival mode." I accept that. But it's more than that. There is more substance here than mere survival. This pull I am feeling has roots that run deep into our Mother Earth. It only seeks to be able to break through the surface and sprout forth to grow into the full glory I see in my mind. And yes, in my meditative journeys. 

There is a reason this pull has been tugging at my core and my heart for these past years. There's a reason it's gotten exponentially stronger since Covid hit. And while I know parts of it are born out of fear, the self-work I have been doing over the past two and a half years has taught me that the pull is stronger because it's my purpose. 

Without getting into my very BIG dream for life, I'm talking about self-sufficiency here today. Specifically, growing and storing our own food, and sourcing what you can't (or won't) grow from ethically and sustainably sourced markets. 

1/2 a cow in the freezer means clean, helathy, delicious meat for a year.

Here I realize that my garden space is much bigger than average, and I understand that not everyone has a piece of land to grow on. I am well aware of that. I've lived in those situations. Places where dependency on the grocery store was real. And, if I'm honest, it still is for us, to a degree. 

But this pull I'm feeling--that my husband also feels--is about being able to support ourselves with food we grow or source from other local growers. And therein lies the message. . . You don't have to be able to grow everything yourself. Supporting your community by buying from other local growers is also part of self-sustainablity. 

This video from msnbc gives a rundown of how buying locally supports your community in a bigger way. One fact that really drives me is:

"$1 out of every $100 spent online goes back into the community. Fifteen times that from the big box retailers. And up to $45 of every $100 spent in indepndent stores."

I recently watched a video by a homesteader I've been following for a a few years. More honesty forces me to admit that I had stopped watching her because she triggered me. Fiercely. I made excuses to myself for not watching her content. I told myself she doesn't teach things, just puts her life online for the world to see. But if you know how to watch things like that, you can learn from other people's lives. Even when it triggers you. 

So I watched the video she posted on March 27 of this year entitled "The Urgency to Grow Food (and Audacious Hope)." I didn't know what to expect, but the 36-minute runtime had me at this better be good. My time is precious, especially my TV time, so I don't want it taken up by something that doesn't hold value for me. 

Let me caveat this by explaining why this woman's content triggers me. She is living my dream. Sure the details may be different, but essentially she is livin gthe life I want to live. She has connections to the kinds of people I want to be connected to. She is taking college courses in the same subject area I want to take courses in. And her future dreams are much like my own. 

As I write this, I understand that this woman has the very real potential to be an expander for me, and that is something I need to explore. Especially since she feels so out of reach. 

But this video. . . Without going into the current political climate, she talks about her views on the predicted food crisis in the US. Shortages of staple items. Drastically increased prices. And there is, of course, always the issue of cleanliness, health value, and ethical sourcing. She tells her story of coming from living scant paycheck to scant paycheck and having date nights at the book store cafe so she and her husband could read the books and put them back. 

And it was at one of those date nights, as she was reading a book about homesteading, that she felt the call. The urgency of needing to prepare. I know that call. I was in tears as she told this story. I felt the urgency bubble up again. 

But she goes on to talk about the difference between preparing out of fear and coming from a place of faith and trust. Faith and trust allow you to learn as you grow. To take lessons from your failures as much as your successes. 

I believe that my inner journey has allowed me to approach this subject from a place of peace. While I feel the urgency to beat the inflation of food prices, I am not afraid. Oh, I used to be afraid. Without a doubt, I was afraid of the potential of not being able to get food. But I realized that approaching this at a sustainable and calm pace is so much healthier. 

We are eating cleaner by purchasing local dairy and meat, and by growing and preserving our own vegetables. And of course we have our flock to provide us eggs. I would love to help the people in my community do the same. 

This took longer to write than I wanted, and as such, it became a bit scattered. I hope you stayed with me. 

I have BIG dreams. And while it may take time, I will get there because I am meant to get there.

Don't ever give up on your dreams.

And So It Begins. . .

 The seeds have been started! 🌱

 🥦 🫑 

I've seen people in my area starting seeds in those pop-up "greenhouses" these past couple weeks, and I have mixed feeling about this. For one, I can fully admit that I'm a little envious of these people because I have wanted a mini greenhouse for years. On the other hand, I know winter isn't through with us, and I can't imagine having to move racks full of seedlings to a warmer place when polar fronts roll in like the one we had this weekend. 

These locals with their teeny "greenhouses" and their late-February/early-March seed starting can make me feel like I'm late. . . again. But I have always planted according to a last frost date of May 15th or around Mother's Day. And, according to the University of Maryland Extension vegetable planting calendar, I'm right on time. Every farmer I know in the area has confirmed that they use the same basic time-frame, also, so. . . *shrug*. 

And there's good old Mother Nature. She confirmed my scheduling this weekend when a polar vortex blew in with ice, snow, and wind chills in the teens.  

Snow-covered lavender

                                               

Snow-covered Thyme

Most had melted by the time I took the picture, but the garden was completely covered with ice-crusted snow.

With the timing, there's also the fact that every year I feel like I'm starting late, yet my yeilds are abundant. My freezer and shelves are fully stocked and the chickens eat high on the hog all season. I have never been disappointed by my harvest, so I try not to beat myself up over my timing.

I've also seen how some people are starting all of their seeds at the same time. The temperatures on the seed packets tell me that I've got time before I can put any of my plants outside, especially tender seedlings and cold-sensitive veggies. This means paying attention to our local average tempertures and starting accordingly. Tomatoes, for instance will wait another week or two before I start them because a lesson from last year was not to keep them inside too long. 

You'll see in the picture below that I've only started broccoli, cauliflower, and mini bell peppers so far. I questioned the peppers because I know the ground has to be pretty warm for them, but I have enough smaller pots to keep them safe until I can put them out with confidence. 

The seeds are going to be happy in my little set-up.  The heating pad under the tray keeps the water, air, and soil nice and warm for germinating. (I also only water with warm water. 😉 ) As I check on the seeds--and later, seedlings--I add the water from the condensation back into the tray. And this year I finally got my grow light! 🤗  I bought a little kit made for these types of seed-starting kits, and it's perfect. One thing it came with that none of the other--much more expensive--grow lights did is a stand. It also has a switch on the cord and can be chanied to other lights. Eventually I'd like to have a rack with a heating pad and grow light on each shelf, but we must make due with what's available to us. 

The moral here is that regardless of what other people are doing. Regardless of what anyone may say. What you think you should do is what matters. What works for you and your application is what matters. Don't let the pressure of society sway you if it doesn't feel right. 

So tell me. . . How do you start your gardening season?

Finding the Path. . . A New Journey

Angel Numbers. . . It’s funny because I’m pretty good with numbers in multiple ways, but numerology never appealed to me. When I first heard about Angel numbers, I really thought it was just a different way to describe numerology, or that it was only about repeating numbers like 111, 4444, 77777. But I’m learning that’s not really the case. Lately—and here “lately” encompasses almost the entire past year—I have been seeing a particular number almost daily. At first, my number was four digits, and in looking up the meaning of this number it is quite significant in both the timing of its arrival and timing of its shifting into a smaller part of itself.

Let me explain. . .

About a year ago, my path shifted slightly. And, unbeknownst to me, the shift it took was putting me more in line with dreams I’ve had since I was a girl. Around that same time, I started looking at the clock at 12:34 almost daily. Sometimes twice a day. At first it was just a cool thing to notice, but as I traveled further down this path, I realized this was an Angel number.

So I reached out to groups and looked it up using suggested resources. But I’ll tell you, knowing the meaning of this number at that time didn’t help. You see, this number is essentially the sequential significance of each digit individually. And when you put them together, it signifies a path. I was only just taking my first steps on this path, so the true meaning, even with the knowing of it, wasn’t available to me yet. I could read the words, sure, but I couldn’t embrace and embody them.

  ༡༢༣༤

1 — A fresh start. A new phase in life. Motivation. Self-leadership. Initiative. 

2 — Faith and trust. Communication. Work on improving my communication with people. 

3 — Faith in self. Faith in my own abilities. Faith will help me achieve my goals and connect me to my angle guides.

4 — Hard work. Determination. Organization. Honesty and traditional values. 

It goes deeper than that because there are other number combinations within 1234 that break out to have significant meaning, but I’m not going to get into that. I have a different focus here. . .

A few months ago, while still seeing 12:34 regularly, I also began to see 34 by itself more frequently. This was on the clock—some days almost hourly—and in other parts of life, like receipts, pricing, and other totally random places. 

34. Thirty-four. 

But what does it mean? So, I looked it up. . .

And I was blown away. Blown away enough to sit and write this entry describing this period in my life. 

Let’s go back to that slight shift in my life’s journey about a year ago. As I said, when I first looked up 1234, I was just beginning this new path and couldn’t grasp the meaning on the deeper level it was meant for. But when I decided I’d seen enough 34s these past months and decided to look up that number, I was ready for the meaning to resonate. And holy crap did it resonate. 

34, at its very base level, symbolizes using creative energy to achieve one’s desires and life purpose. It goes on to describe those of us who receive this angel number as people who often leave creative works unfinished, and tells us this habit needs to be recognized and acknowledged, and then changed. We do this, most likely, because of the fear of rejection or inadequacy. 

I need to embrace my fear and push through it. Complete those forgotten creative projects gathering dust on the craft table, or tucked away in a file that starts with Z so I never see it. 

In doing this, however, I cannot take on too much. I need to not carry the burden of others’ responsibilities, and must allow them to bare their own weight. Thus I make time to enjoy the things that bring me joy. I make time for mental self-care.

Angel number 34 is a message from the angels and Ascended Masters, asking me to call on them for help. Talk to them about my desires and fears, and they will find ways for me to receive the answers. I need to pay attention to my higher self and intuition, and remember the power of positive thought to create good. 

And above all. . . TRUST. 

This has been a themed message for me as of late. Trust. Trust myself. Trust my higher self. Trust my intuition. Trust my guides. Trust the process. Because all the things I desire are coming to me. The season may be long, but it will all be worth it in the end. 

When that word was sent to me, it came through an incredibly gifted woman. She said the word in a live video, and it was like a chime was struck in my soul. 

*BIIINNNNG*

Before that, I had begrudgingly chosen “growth” as my word for the year. “Expansion” also felt right because it’s more rounded, less linear than “growth.” And that’s what I want and what I’m striving for, expansion in all directions. But when El said “Trust. . .” I heard, “Trust yourself. Trust the process. And be patient.”  I felt the chime reverberate through my body and soul. 

It was only after this message that I understood the meaning behind the Angel Number meanings. . .

1234 is simply there to tell me that I’m on my path. The right path. The path my soul came here to take. I must have faith that this path is leading to my dreams, but I will also have to work. This ride isn’t free. 

34 is telling me to tap into the one thing I’ve always believed was my gift. Perhaps the only thing I’ve always believed in in myself. My creativity. Creativity is the one thing I’ve always held close to my heart as a gift from God. Creativity allows me to escape without leaving or being sedentary. 

Spider comes in here, too. She shows up to tell me to let my creativity flow. To stop holding it back. She tells me to write. 

And 34 tells me the same thing. . . With an old story haunting my driving time. A vision I want to paint as a gift for a friend. Pick it up, dust it off. Finish it. 

And then move on to create more. Open myself to the creative energies zinging all around me. I can see them in the beauty of Gaia, the trees, the wildlife. I can hear them in the wind, in the rain. I can feel them charging the air around me. 

Great things await me. Perhaps not riches in the form of off-shore-worthy bank accounts. Perhaps not yearly vacations to exotic places. But great things await me nonetheless. In the form of true wealth. Wealth that is relaxation, love, happiness. 

This blog may be transforming into something more than it was. I’m pretty attached to the brand that I’ve created here, such that it is, but I’m on a path now. A real path. One who’s destination I can see even if the how is withheld. And I want to share it with whomever wants to read my tale. Perhaps my words will inspire someone else to take action in their own life. 

Until later, my friends, I wish many blessings upon you. 

Sheepish Real Talk

Let's talk real for a minute. . .

I watch and listen to motivational speeches. I listen to podcasts interviewing successful businessmen and women. I watch YouTube videos by homesteaders who talk about things that interest me, like goats, chickens, growing your food, crafting, etc. 

Every one of them—Every. Single. One.—says the same thing: “Anyone can do it; you just have to ____.” Or “You have to find yourself and follow your dreams/passions.” Do what you love! Affirmations! Manifest! Believe!

But as I watch and listen, I can’t help but let my doubts creep in. . .

• I already work full-time, run a household, and help my husband run 2 businesses.
• My husband, in running these companies, works about 60 hours a week on average.
• I have a family. (Most of these people do but started that life adventure after being settled into their dream life.)
• I’m so much older than them. (Or they started at a much younger age. See above.)
• I am a Type 1 diabetic. This means that I NEED health insurance.
• My T1D means that, even with expensive insurance, I pay a small fortune every year for medication and supplies.
• I’m not in a financial position to drop everything. (Also, see above.)
• I don’t have the support in living my dreams that everyone else seems to have. (And if you think it’s easy to go it alone, see all of the above.)

I have dreams that run deep into my roots. These dreams are woven into the fiber of my soul. These dreams are the reason my day job is unfulfilling. The reason I catch myself staring out the window daydreaming. The reason all I want is to be outside working with the earth, tending my garden and animals.

And these dreams are the reason I want more. More land, more food crops, more animals.

Photo by Michael & Christa Richert from FreeImages

Photo by Chris Johnson from FreeImages 

I realize my dreams are vast and encompass perhaps more than I could do on my own, but I have my wants prioritized, mostly. I know what I’m willing to give up if it means reaching for something closer to the top of my list.

Photo by Billy Van Zyl from FreeImages 

And then someone says something like, “You’re too old to start doing that.” Or, “Your body is already failing you. What makes you think you can do that?” 

And my doubts creep in again. I sink into that self-depreciating place where dreams go to die, and I resolve to the thought that I’ll always be dependent on a “regular job” because I’m not good enough to have what I really want. That thought also leads to the “working until I’m dead” fear lodged in a dark place in my mind.

I feel so alone in all of this. I feel like no one believes in me. It is very difficult to believe in yourself when you feel that way, and I think that’s why I give up on things after a while. Because I have come to the realization that I suck at being accountable to myself, but if I hold myself accountable to doing something for someone else, I will make it happen.

This principle applies to the working world, too, because if you don’t have a high enough degree, you aren’t good enough. No matter your life experience, if you don’t have the paper, or two to three times that in years working, you aren’t good enough.

Am I trying to prove myself to others? Maybe. But I think I’m trying to prove myself to myself, too. I’m trying to prove that I am good enough. That I am worthy of having my dreams come true. That I can do it.

This has led me on a spiritual journey that is helping me overcome these hindering beliefs. Small step by small step, I am learning to defeat my negative self. It’s hard. Yeah. It’s hard as horse manure baked in the summer sun for a month. And I fall back on my ass. . . a lot. But I get up every time. And I attribute that strength to the teachings of some very special people I have met.

Perhaps I’ll tell you about my spiritual journey one day. But, for now, I’m really just letting you know that if you feel like everyone else is soaring while your feathers are soaked with seawater, you are not alone.

Until next time, I wish you blessings of love and health.