tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74536136856562145742024-03-12T21:17:29.255-07:00pixiecola *joy!*Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.comBlogger43125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-78274981073381957052013-06-02T01:07:00.003-07:002013-06-02T01:07:25.942-07:00endings and beginningsendings and beginnings - what charged things! and the poignant thing is that endings and beginnings are almost always paired. even endings that you want are often accompanied by some sorrow because whatever you are leaving served some purpose for you. and beginnings are mostly accompanied by anxiety.<br />
i have been thinking of this a lot lately because i have to leave my job that i have had for the last 6 school years. i am excited and anxious to do my student teaching and then get my license and teach my own kindergarten - but i also am truly sad to leave my school where my dream to teach kindergarten was born. i have been able to watch my kinders grow (this year my first kinders "graduate" from elementary) - and it makes me sad to leave, because i won't get to see my other kiddos grow. and i know i will fall in love with a whole new class of kinders next year - but i won't get to see them after....<br />
so, in my life right now i am in a nexus of happy/sad/anxious/excited because an important phase of my life is ending and new one beginningPixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-62062801289758822142012-11-24T23:27:00.000-08:002012-11-24T23:27:13.143-08:00and if we knew our deaths, in our land...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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tonight i was reading aloud to kevin from a fantasy book by phillip pullman (like i do) and i read this part tonight and it really struck me. i had read this book on my own about 4 years ago, but i have some things going on in my brain especially right now about death because my mother is not doing well and may be moving far away again.<br />
<br />
i will edit out the plot stuff that isn't as relevant but i feel like sharing this piece of writing that gave me an interesting perspective. the back story (to this part of the novel) is that the characters, lyra and will, are trying to reach the land of the dead on a quest and end up in a waiting area for people who came to edge of the land of the dead accidentally while they are still alive. <br />
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<b>from the amber spy glass (with things left out):</b><br />
<br />
"you're the first people we ever saw without a <i>death</i>," said the man, whose name, they learned, was peter. "since we come here, that is. we're like you, we come here before we was dead, some by chance or accident. we got to wait till our <i>deaths</i> tell us it's time."<br />
"your <i>death</i> tells you?" said lyra<br />
"yes. what we found out when we come here, oh, long time ago for most of us, we found out we all brought our <i>deaths</i> here with us. this is where we found out. we had 'em all the time, and we never knew. see, everyone has a <i>death</i>. it goes everywhere with 'em, all their life long, right close by. <i><b>our</b> deaths</i>, they're outside, taking the air; they'll come in by and by. granny's <i>death</i>, he's with her, he's close to her, very close."<br />
"doesn't it scare you, having your <i>death</i> close by all the time?" said lyra.<br />
"why ever would it? if he's there, you can keep an eye on him. i'd be a lot more nervous not knowing where he was."<br />
"and everyone has their own <i>death</i>?" said will, marveling. <br />
"why, yes, the moment you're born, your <i>death</i> comes into the world with you, and it's your <i>death</i> that takes you out...your <i>death</i> taps you on the shoulder, or says 'come along o' me, it's time.' it might happen when you're sick with a fever, or when you choke on a piece of dry bread, or when you fall off a high building; in the middle of your pain and travail, your <i>death</i> comes to you kindly and says, "easy now, easy, child, you come along o' me," and you go with 'em.<br />
the woman told a child to call the <i>deaths</i> in, and he scrambled to the door and spoke to them. they watched as the <i>deaths</i> - one for each of the family - came in through the door: pale unremarkable figures.<br />
"these are your <i>deaths</i>?"<br />
"indeed, sir!" said peter<br />
(skip skip skip some stuff where the main characters ask if they can cross to the land of the dead while they are alive)<br />
then came a voice that hadn't spoken before. from the depths of the bedclothes in the corner came a dry-cracked-nasal tone - not a woman's voice - not a living voice; it was the voice of the grandmother's <i>death</i>.<br />
"the only way you'll cross the lake and go to the land of the dead," he said, and he was leaning up on his elbow, pointing with a skinny finger at lyra, "is with your own <i>deaths</i>. you must call up you own <i>death</i>. i have heard of people like you, who keep their <i>deaths</i> at bay. you don't like them, and out of courtesy they stay out of sight. but they're not far off. whenever you turn your head, your <i>deaths</i> dodge behind you. whenever you look, they hide...not like me and old magda here," he said and he pinched her withered cheek, and she pushed his hand away. "we live together in kindness and friendship"<br />
(skip skip - lyra confronts her <i>death</i> and asks to be escorted to the land of the dead while alive and then return)<br />
"eventually, child, you will come to the land of the dead with no effort, no risk, a safe, calm journey, in the company of your own <i>death</i>, who's been beside you every moment of your life, who knows you better than yourself - "<br />
<br />
i found this reading oddly comforting in my current state of dealing with possibilities of death. not in the same way that religious people find comfort in heaven, because i <i>know</i> this is a story. i think most of religion stems from our fear of death. and i do fear death - both mine and my loved ones'. but this story puts what i believe happens in a more tender way, i guess for me. i don't believe there is a land of the dead of any kind. but i like how the author transforms the usual "grim reaper" death character into a benign companion that accompanies us from birth to passing - who hides out of respect for our fear. our "death" doesn't choose the time or happenstance of how we die - they are just there all along waiting to guide us to our final resting. however we treat our "death" - he/she are all we have in the end.<br />
<br />
i see it as metaphor for how we decide to accept death. death comes to all of us (i.e. our constant companion). we can turn from it, but when it's our time - it's our time - and nobody knows when that is.<br />
i am not trying to trivialize death - in fact, it is because death has been on my mind so much lately that i write this. i honestly think that death is only painful for the living (dy<i>ing</i> can certainly be painful - i am not saying that - but death - is painless for the dead) . i don't believe in heaven or hell - i believe death is just peace. but this little reading tonight helped me re-come to terms with the fact that we never know when death will come for ANYONE.<br />
so my take home message is LOVE and APPRECIATE what you have - because you never know...<br />
<br />Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-58481095044173823512012-08-18T22:45:00.000-07:002012-08-18T23:11:29.086-07:00fierce lovei am rethinking my thoughts about my teenager :) my daughter was my shadow, my playmate, at times my reason to keep going. she was a book worm (just like me), she was my shy violet. then....came 7th grade...<br />
<br />
my little partner suddenly became a social butterfly. and quiet evenings with mom suddenly became a scarcity - and friends took on an urgency that i wasn't used to!...or was i?<br />
<br />
several things in my recent past have made me wax nostalgic (the most recent of which is attending my cousin's wedding) and whenever i revisit my past, i realize how much i LOVE the characters who starred in my adolescence. to this day!!!! i carry a strong affection for the players in my adolescent drama. from friends to boyfriends - i still carry affection for them.<br />
<br />
in my "older wisdom" i caution my daughter - your first love probably won't be your last. and that's likely true - but i warn her because i don't want her to be too attached - but i don't tell her how much i still love my first love because he was my first love. i think about my friends too - how much i loved them - how much i still do. and it is friends who have made the deepest imprint. my first (and second) true loves were my friends at the heart of it! <br />
<br />
high school is such a strange thing. it is where we test who we want to be. and the people (male or female/ friends or lovers) who we love in HS we love FIERCELY because that's the only setting we have! and i love that i am 35 now and i can still feel the traces of the fierce love that i had for my friends.<br />
<br />
and so i have to give my daughter a break. when her friends seem to be her world to the exclusion of the "real world" concerns i bring up - i have to remember the fierce love that accompanies teenage relationships/friendships and that that love can actually transcend time and place.<br />
i have FIERCE love for my adolescent friends :) which means i love you to this day! so - cass - i acknowledge your teen craziness - because i still retain some of mine :)Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-41450700468551277162012-08-05T01:26:00.000-07:002012-08-05T01:39:49.304-07:00The Wendover Project<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
so 5 or 6 years ago my friend danielle invited me to be painted by an artist. this was not a gig to merely pose - this was a gig to actually have my (and others) naked body have paint applied to it. the artist (paul butler) was an accomplished painter and architect who had something nagging the back of his mind - why must we (humans) associate nakedness with sexuality? so he conceived an art where bodies were used as a canvas to explore the human body as shapes - with no judgement as to what shapes were "good" or "bad" (is a triangle good or bad? is a curve good or bad? is a square good or bad? - it sounds silly when you say it this way, but we judge our bodies' shapes to be good or bad all the time).<br />
<br />
so i have done numerous sessions with him over the past years. (almost) every year paul does something called the wendover project. the wendover project is where as many models as will consent to it go out to the salt flats (if you aren't familiar with utah - look up the salt flats) and are painted all together in one composition.<br />
<br />
if you know me, then you know i am a pretty "free spirit" - but will admit i have issues with my body. so driving out to the salt flats you are in this like alien landscape. then all the models strip down - and it's surreal. because even the open-minded feel exposed - but we all do - and we all are. today there were 27 models. so there were 27 female bodies. and at first some of us are more or less shy. but we all get to see the amazing variety of bodies - and how we all have our own unique beauty - you see skinny, chubby, big boobs, tiny boobs, tattoos, piercings, cellulite, stretch marks... and then we have to stand there in the blistering sun having paint applied to our bodies. and as we stand there in the sun, with the paint drying and cracking,your habit of "holding in your tummy" or whatever dissolves and you just become sisters with all the women who are there with you "letting it all hang out." it's pretty brutal standing on the (reflective) white salt in the heat - your vanity is really laid bare - and you don't even have time for obsessing about the things you dislike about your body. it is eye-opening and empowering to push past your personal insecurities about your body. and the funny thing is - you hear women talking about their insecurities!! it's like - because we are all out there, we can come clean with our secret dislikes about our bodies - and find out that we all have them.<br />
<br />
it is a really amazing experience and i wish it (or a similar one) on all my lady friends. there is really nothing in the world like standing naked with 27 women (mostly strangers) on public land to create art<br />
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<br />Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-38540742194188527132012-07-25T23:51:00.000-07:002012-07-25T23:51:27.685-07:00Reasons do not Equal Excusesmy 13 year old daughter and i had a confrontation today. the details are unimportant - but i will say today was the third incident of the same thing in less than a week. it's not a "big deal" thing - it's the repeat that pisses me off. so she gives me the whole "it wasn't my fault" along with "it won't happen again".<br />
<br />
so my question to her was - if it really wasn't your fault - then how can you tell me that it won't happen again? the two claims are pretty much mutually exclusive. either you have no control over it happening - in which case you have no control over it happening again OR it WAS your fault because of choices that you made and so it theoretically could happen again (like how it has happened three times in less than a week despite your assurances the previous two times that it would not).<br />
<br />
i told her during her pleading to not be grounded for TWO WHOLE DAYS that one of the things that made me more angry was her refusal to take responsibility for it. we all screw up. we all screw up unintentionally - in fact - i think probably most of our screw ups are unintentional. she went on and on about how it wasn't her fault because of all these reasons that led up to her repeating this particular violation. i was trying to get across to her that reasons are not excuses. everyone has reasons for the choices they make - for better or worse - but your reasons do not give you an EXCUSE. as she was protesting the unfairness of being grounded for two days she asked me what the big deal was. and for me - a lot of the "big deal" has to do with taking responsibility. i hope to teach her how to take responsibility. it took me a really long time to learn the difference between reasons and excuses - and i hope that she learns it earlier than me (or at the very least that she learns it at all! - said every parent ever!). i have found a certain freedom that comes with accepting responsibility for your life and stopping assigning blame outside yourself for your decisions. don't get me wrong - i still fall into the blame trap once in a while (who doesn't?) but today clarified for me one of my parenting missions - help daughter know that reasons are not excuses.Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-16808300486899772402012-07-24T01:08:00.002-07:002012-07-24T01:08:46.173-07:00going grayso - in contrast to what i am "supposed" to want - i COVET gray hair - i always have. and now i have two gray hairs - and they are the most beautiful silver!!! i just worry that i am destined to do the "salt and pepper" thing.<br />
i want a head of beautiful silver hair!<br />
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<br />Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-56869865432030600982012-07-06T23:45:00.001-07:002012-07-07T00:08:48.322-07:00Some camus for your assMy friend Ash posted something earlier this evening that made me want to read Camus' "Youthful Writings" again - not all of it - just my favorite bits :) i began with the piece entitled "intuitions" and then revisited other favorite parts. i just love a favorite book! how you can go back and read it again and just cherish it all over again. mostly i wish i could just somehow beam the contents of this wonderful book into your head - but i will settle for relating a poem from the book...<br />
<br />
That the gift is sad and grave, I know it, child of<br />
those who believe.<br />
Flowers and streams, shadows and foliage in the<br />
dark of the present, all stretch forth and entwine.<br />
I would have liked to leave in order to be bound,<br />
I see the sky too high.<br />
Seeing how desires that look behind them die,<br />
who can be born again?<br />
No. No. May all be astonished - at each thing<br />
at each birth and at each death.<br />
Life with its regrets and desires is too short; alas!<br />
I believe in Love, and what use are my roots.<br />
I know that everything happens and that the instant<br />
of communion is not awaited - but is won.<br />
And when night falls, it's dawn<br />
that one must reach for.Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-20576517064780303662012-06-21T23:07:00.000-07:002012-06-21T23:08:26.025-07:00Nightmaresso, this week has been epic for me (in a BAD way) for nightmares. i will spare you all the blow by blow descriptions - but suffice it to say that they involve vivid images of horrid things happening to me or my loved ones. a few days ago i told my mom about two of my nightmares and she said "it seems like you are grappling with fears of life and death." but this blog is inspired by one of my nightmares - so bear with me.<br />
<br />
last night i dreamed that i went across the street to see my mom and she told me that she was just too tired and couldn't handle her job. and then she looked at me and said, "you know what i am wishing for" and i responded that i didn't. and she said "yes, you do." and then she told me that she was wishing to die. i told her not to wish for that because our thoughts are powerful and she said, "i know"<br />
<br />
i woke up crying, but went back to sleep in the same dream. in the dream i told kevin that he needed to check my mom's apartment each day because i didn't want to find her dead.<br />
<br />
today - in real life - i told my mom about my dream (as i have told her about my nightmare marathon) and when i came to the part where she told me "you know what i wish for?" and i told her it was death - she said - "yeah, i feel ready" (in real life she said this)<br />
<br />
so for all day since i had this conversation with her i have been thinking about feeling ready to die. the last 5 or so years of my life have been the best of my life - in fact, i have developed anxiety (which i never had before) because i worry about the happiness i have being disrupted by death. and i know my mom is in pain and has a hard time even moving now - but from my view - i find it hard to to prefer death to never being able to see the sun shine in an impossibly beautiful sky. <br />
<br />
she assured me that her passive death wish would not be fulfilled because of her strong norwegian blood - but i see a marked difference from the woman who battled cancer with alternative methods to the one who told me today she does indeed wish to die...<br />
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<br />Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-41353614461736200132012-05-03T21:39:00.000-07:002012-05-03T21:39:13.913-07:00stealing flowers and frozen goodies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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tonight i was walking home from my last final exam of the semester (YEA!) and i passed a house with an odd brick chimney that looked broken and had some odd doodad attached near the top that i could hardly see but it made me pause a second to look at it. for some reason (perhaps because i wondered what the owners of the house might think if they saw me lingering in front of their house staring up at their chimney) it triggered a memory of an incident from my childhood.<br />
in the neighborhood i grew up, in lemon grove CA, i was playing with my friend melody. there was a house with beautiful roses and flowers growing in the yard and my friend and i decided we needed to pick one. just as we were picking a rose, the owner of the house came out. we panicked and started to run. the elderly lady who lived there called after us. we ran out of sight and i had a crisis of conscience so we decided to go back and face the music. <br />
we walked fearfully up to the house - pilfered rose in hand. we apologized and told her we just wanted one of her flowers because they were so beautiful. she invited us inside and we talked. she had freezers full of the most wonderful home baked treats. she sent us home with extra treats and hand-picked a bouquet of her most beautiful flowers. that was the first of our visits - i came fairly often after that. she always had stories - and treats. as an 8 year old i enjoyed listening to her and couldn't believe my luck because of all the fantastic treats from her freezer.<br />
when this memory hit me this evening, i was struck by a new perspective. as a child i never wondered why she had a whole garage freezer full of home made treats. now i find it poignant. i am glad that my childhood transgression of trying to steal a flower bloomed into the friendship that it did. i am glad that that sweet old lady (whose name, regrettably, i do not remember) found someone to give her treats to and tell stories to - and i am glad that i learned that you just never know what to make of people - sometimes you just have to go talk to them.<br />
<br />Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-52829682790186040552011-07-30T22:12:00.000-07:002011-07-30T22:50:43.351-07:00something AWESOME i learned because of yubyub<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Pvc9chXHGlY/TjTmKG7BBfI/AAAAAAAAAZo/IMuWEol1XLg/s1600/puppy.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Pvc9chXHGlY/TjTmKG7BBfI/AAAAAAAAAZo/IMuWEol1XLg/s320/puppy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635382095078557170" border="0" /></a><br />so, last sunday morning (july 24 - which (fyi) is a state holiday in utah - pioneer day - for those of you who live outside the land of zion - not related to my story but a piece of trivia. kevin and i are at the farmers market selling his tasty veggies grown with love and we decide to get a puppy - a small breed because our house is small and can't accommodate a large breed. kevin wanted a garden companion.<br /><br />an hour or so later our friend spring shows up at the market to say hi - and has a new pup with her. we say, "funny! we just decided today that we want a puppy!" spring: "my friend just had 15 puppies - let me bring you one to meet!" me: "well we want a small breed (spring's puppy will grow into a medium size dog i think)" spring: well, the one i want to show you because i love him so much is a shih tzu poodle mix - he's little. just you wait - my friend lives near here - i will bring the puppy to meet you!"<br /><br />sure enough, spring shows up with her friend and the little guy i am holding in the picture. the puppy slays us with his cuteness and we can't deny the auspiciousness of the timing so we can't NOT take him.<br /><br />SOOOOO... puppies are a CRAZY amount of work. i did not realize the extent because i have never had a puppy. i used to wonder why there were puppies in the pound - because who would give up a puppy? but i see why now (and yubyub is a really good puppy too! - oh yeah, we named him yubyub because it is a word in ewokese because we think he looks like an ewok) they suck you in with their adorableness - and then you are face with the reality of puppy training - not for everyone :)<br /><br />ok - background story complete - in the book we got (puppy whisperer: a compassionate non-violent guide to early training and care - NOT to be confused with cesar (sp?) the dog whisperer - this book has nothing to do with showing dominance) in the section on socializing your puppy they say your job in socializing is to get your puppy to roll with the punches that are life. so if you drop a pan on the floor and it startles you little guy - make it a party - "yea! i dropped a pan!!!"(give treat) a loud garbage truck goes by - "yea! a garbage truck!!!!"(give treat) - you get the point.<br /><br />when i first told kevin about this part of the book (he is working all the time so i read and summarize) i tell him i think it's sorta awesome but would make me feel ridiculous a little bit (though i am still down for tryin'). but the more i think about it - the more i think "WHAT an awesome tool!" for MY life!. what if every time something threw you for a loop or scared or derailed you you thought "YEA! i have to take college algebra again!" (one close to my heart). or even "YEA! i lost my job!". doing "the work" has taught me that EVERYTHING is in our power to determine our reaction to it. reality is what it is - PERIOD - the only thing we have is our reaction to it. so i appreciate the further lesson in this i got because of yubyub -<br />THROW A PARTY WHEN SOMETHING UPSETS YOU!Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-50738598445849647892011-07-19T21:30:00.000-07:002011-07-19T21:51:14.712-07:00a step-dad for my littleso, kevin has never been a big fan of children. mostly he is disappointed with the way our species behaves toward our planet and thinks the world would be better off if we would please stop breeding and just die off. in light of this, i am really amazed and grateful for the relationship he has ended up forging with my daughter. <br /><br />for the first couple years, he pretty much left the parenting to me (with occasional behind-the-scenes advice or insight), though he was always friendly with cass and genuinely liked her. but over the last year and a half or so, their relationship has really grown. it has been really touching to watch as they have become family to each other. kevin thinks of himself as a dad to her, and she has never really had that in any of my previous relationships (excepting, of course, her actual father). for the first time since her dad and i split, i feel like i have support raising my daughter.<br /><br />it has been a real joy watching them grow to love each other. i am so thankful for my little family. they both bless my life in so many ways and i am a lucky lucky lady.Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-80144216623023742232011-07-02T18:59:00.001-07:002011-07-02T20:33:39.889-07:00Freedom and Education and how we are failingI am going to begin with a lengthy quote from a book I reading for one of my Education classes. It really highlights for me the disconnect I see between the way teachers are being trained in college (at least in my program)and the reality of most public schools. The passage is from a book called The Learning Cycle: Elementary School Science and Beyond by Edmund Marek and Ann Cavallo.<br /><br />"Why is it important to have the development of thinking ability as the centralpurpose of education? First, all other goals of education, such as understanding the subject matter, cannot be achieved without the ability to think logically. Second, this goal prepares students for their future in society. Throughout a lifetime, individuals must solve many problems, make judgments and decisions, and, ideally, create new ideas that extend and/or improve current knowledge of the world. These activities will not be accomplished if the students in our schools have not developed the ability to think. Third, developing the ability to think is important across all subjects in the curriculum. Content is specific to subject areas and may be forgotten. The ability to think logically is general and central to all subject areas and will prevail for a lifetime. Finally, individuals in our society cannot be truly free if the ability to think is lacking. How is thinking related to freedom? The ability to think allows individuals to decide, for themselves, the value of others' decisions opinions and rules. Without the ability to think, reason, and form opinions independently, individuals would have no choice but to accept the decisions of virtually anyone who is in a position of authority...<br /><br />The final point regarding freedom is perhaps of greatest significance. This nation was founded on the premise that all persons are entitled to their individual freedoms. [my interjection here - ALL persons? It's a nice thought but I don't think so. I think the group of people this nation had in mind when they founded the US was pretty clearly NOT all persons - but the point he is coming to is valuable nonetheless] Freedom, however, requires certain factors for its establishment and survival, and these include the 'social institutions which protect freedom and the personal commitment that gives it force' (EPC, 1961). But social institutions will neither be free nor advocate freedom if those governing them do not so demand, and these individuals will not demand freedom if they are not committed to it. In order to demand and practice responsible freedom, individuals must have what the EPC called 'freedom of mind', 'a condition which each individual must develop for himself'. To be truly free, and to maintain the democratic society we cherish [my interjection - we are not and never have been a democracy - but again, I still think the general thrust of what he is saying is valid] individuals must use thinking skills that allow each to formulate well-founded opinions, judgments, and actions. Thus, 'a free society has the obligation to create circumstances in which all individuals may have the opportunity and encouragement to attain freedom of the mind.' (EPC, 1961<br /><br />These circumstances can be created in our school classrooms... In order to perpetuate a free society, however, the individuals making it up must have freedom of mind. To have freedom of mind, students must learn to think autonomously. If schools are to achieve their central purpose, the experiences they provide must lead students to develop the ability to think." p18-19<br /><br />Ok, so why are schools such conformity factories? In my Education degree, we are constantly talking about how to create environments where children are honored and taught how to think, how to make our classrooms as inclusive as possible, and how to attempt to take off our own cultural blinders and realize how they affect the way we teach. But I don't think that is the pervasive culture in today's public school system. I read stories the news that appear to reward conformity and mediocrity at the expense of authentic learning and creativity. What a different world it would be if schools were actually there to teach our future citizens to think critically and question the world around them rather than to blindly accept whatever they hear. What if schools taught us to recognize injustice, wherever it may be, and to stand up for basic human rights for ALL?Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-69024949319562750592011-03-10T22:34:00.000-08:002011-03-10T23:02:10.244-08:00tampons - yep, i WILL talk about periods so be fore-warnedso... <br />back when i was a women's studies minor a DU, i wrote a final paper about the vilification of women's natural body processes - specifically, menstruation and breast feeding. what i found out in my research (secondary to my topic) is that most commercial tampons are treated with a chemical called dioxin. dioxin has been implicated in endometriosis (which, by the way is rising in incredible numbers). the reason tampon companies can get away with it is that the trace amounts of this chemical left in the tampon is considered harmless. --- here's the catch --- dioxins NEVER leave your body - they just build up - so a trace amount over the life of your period is - A LOT. your vagina has probably the most permeable membrane of your body - and dioxin NEVER leaves! for the love of all that's holy ladies - please use organic tampons ( i have no info on pads so if you use those do your own research)<br /><br />even knowing this i resisted organic tampons for years. why? because my short-term convenience over-rode my newly gained knowledge. i look back and i think - what? so ask yourself what you are willing to risk?<br /><br />ok - so here's my major deviation. i have used organic tampons for years now. but this month i am attempting sea sponge tampons. is there a reason i need to throw away tampons - even organic ones - every month?<br /><br />so i am one day into my cycle, with favorable results so far. but it is usually the "dammit i bled through!" day on two or three so i will keep you postedPixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-4409325673251900242010-11-01T18:58:00.000-07:002010-11-01T19:17:51.756-07:00fall magic: a poem<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TM9zu78vmNI/AAAAAAAAAEo/uJ7eNUau4K8/s1600/dancing+leaves.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TM9zu78vmNI/AAAAAAAAAEo/uJ7eNUau4K8/s200/dancing+leaves.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534769717265275090" /></a><br /><br />this was inspired by an experience i had today with my kinders<br /><br />bright crisp blue so clear it almost hurts<br />then<br />a shout!<br />all eyes drawn upward<br />transfixed<br />by the magic of<br />fluttering, sparkling, swirling<br />fairies?<br />butterflies?<br />or were they leaves,<br />green of summer turned to<br />red<br />yellow<br />orange<br />by the kiss of fall?<br />who's to say?<br />my dancing children raise their hands<br />to heaven with exclamations of glee<br />as we dance beneath<br />the magic.<br />a door opens<br />and a whistle blows.<br />we return to routine<br />but in our hearts we carry the magic of<br />the fairies?<br />the butterflies?<br />the leaves?<br />who's to say?Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-37787552462617398752010-09-18T21:45:00.000-07:002010-09-18T21:55:25.324-07:00think the universe isn't listening?last week i was talking to one of my best friends who has transformed himself in the last year. he has gone from a pretty scary alcohol addiction to a sober, whole and peaceful place. it has been a joy to see his transformation. he called me the other day because he was having a sad day. he has dedicated his life to healing (both himself and others) and was feeling sad because he faces the possibility of losing his house and he feels lonely. i was sitting outside on a sidewalk talking to him on my phone. he said to me, "pix i just feel like i surrendered my life to this path and now the universe isn't stepping up to the plate." through our talk, we both came to realize that there are so many factors working to support us every second, and that just because support doesn't come in the particular form that we want it to, doesn't mean we aren't supported. in the middle of this conversation, a teenage boy rides down the sidewalk on a bike and as he passes me points his finger, looks right at me and just says "endure!" and then rides on down the street. i told my friend that the universe just gave him a message. this just brought home to me how much we are all taken care of every minute, and we are never alone.Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-63385611867354539942010-09-16T21:35:00.000-07:002010-09-16T21:46:02.476-07:00wow, mom!this is a funny little side note that happened last weekend. cass regularly asks me questions like "who's the prettiest mommy?" and i answer "me?", or will just come up and hug me and tell me that i am beautiful. i have a real sweetie for a daughter. anyway, last weekend i busted out my senior yearbook to show her. when we came to my picture, she was kinda in awe. "WOW, mom! you were <span style="font-style: italic;">pretty</span>!" it just makes me laugh. i remember seeing my dad's yearbook when i was young and thinking "crazy! dad was cute?" you always see you your parents through your love lens and they are beautiful, but it's a shock to see them young.<br />nowadays, i will take the extra pounds and fine lines gladly in exchange for the greater peace and wisdom that i have, and for the people who just love me no matter what i look like. but it is still fun to see my daughter's shocked face as she looks at my teenage-ness :)Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-27794443616291471362010-09-05T20:55:00.000-07:002010-09-05T20:56:18.380-07:00thanks for gifts and miraclesi haven't written in a while because apparently i am really sensitive to being interrupted when i write. i was mid-blog after my portland trip and my fam was urging me to spend time with them so i quit mid-blog. i never finished that blog and am only now writing again - only because it REALLY needs to be expressed.<br /><br />there are a couple of things that are expressing need to be expressed right now. mostly, my mother was pronounced cancer free this week. the story is a funny one. she went to the ER for something (i don't know or care because it's secondary to the story). side note - she just started seeing a naturopath in portland recently. at the ER she asked the docs to do a scan because her naturopath was wondering if she still had a cervix (she had a hysterectomy 13 years ago). The opinion came back that not onlydid she have a cervix, but a uterus too AND no cancer. WHAT??!! we all think. the no cancer pronunciation is suspect - at least in my mind - because of the "you have a uterus" thing.<br /><br />a week later she goes to her naturopath (who is also an MD for anyone who thinks that naturopaths are fake doctors) who gives her an ultrasound that reveals - no cancer and no uterus.<br /><br />i think the main point of this blog post is that before i went to visit my mom in portland, i had to actively fight off tears on a regular basis over the prospect of losing my mom. while i was there i dealt with a lot of those feelings. i came back with a better grip on life without my mom. and now here are doctors saying cancer is gone! i feel like i have been a very special gift - that of dealing best i could with losing her. i mean, nobody knows when anybody is going to die - that is out of our hands. all we really have is our reaction. though it has been rough at times, i am thankful for the experience. now i can enjoy my mom even more because i had to face the prospect of not having herPixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-63441170675755419402010-07-19T22:43:00.000-07:002010-07-20T06:41:16.639-07:00"Working" with my daughterlast night, i was in denver staying with some friends getting ready to pick cass up in the morning when she called me and asked if she could go to school in denver next year. my first thought was - this is easy - "your dad is between jobs and houses right now; i think it's not a good time." but she unexpectedly counters with "no, i could stay at nana and papa's" (nana and papa are actually doug's aunt and uncle who are, for ALL intents and purposes her denver grandma and grandpa) (insert stomach drop here - on my part). i tell her i can't make that decision right now.<br />my mind swirls to all sorts of sad, mad, hurt etc. places. i stress all night, but manage to get to talk to pam (dotheworkwithpam@gmail.com), and i am here to testify that her phone sessions are the real deal - i did it - so don't let proximity be a barrier) before i pick up cass. we do a quick run-through of the situation and i uncover a host of underlying thoughts behind my anxiety. anyway, i collect myself and pick up my daughter.<br />my baby is always upset when she has to leave her denver family, so i introduced the "Work" to her and let her explore her sorrow via the Work. i won't share her revelations except to tell that listening to her helped dissolve my core beliefs related to issue i had called pam about - even though i had mentioned NOTHING to her.<br />i am looking forward to sharing the Work with her. man! i can just imagine if someone had given me the tools to question my beliefs and help me realize that suffering is optional when i was 11!Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-17478722418587010222010-07-14T19:23:00.000-07:002010-07-14T21:27:08.970-07:00breathing easier<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TD57SPEqp9I/AAAAAAAAAEM/6pApO3lWyRY/s1600/incubus.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 192px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TD57SPEqp9I/AAAAAAAAAEM/6pApO3lWyRY/s200/incubus.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493964148652550098" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TD57MUYz_CI/AAAAAAAAAEE/ANq4A5cWOUU/s1600/ecstasy.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TD57MUYz_CI/AAAAAAAAAEE/ANq4A5cWOUU/s200/ecstasy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493964047000009762" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">VS.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i chose that title because i am amazed right now how i am LITERALLY breathing easier after my "Work" session with my friend. tonight i tackled one of my biggies, that i have recently realized is the underlying cause of many of my stress thoughts. i am breathing easier because i really feel like my chest has been let go from some kind of binding instrument. so, the following blog is really me processing some epiphanies so feel free to skip it - or not :)<br /><br />it started with me trying to get at why i am so deeply conflict phobic. it's really bizarre if you could see me in action - or should i say inaction. i am petrified - literally sometimes - to speak up for myself, even to complete strangers on the phone let alone with someone who matters in my life. then i fight with myself because i say, "katrisa, this is ridiculous. grow an ovary or two and speak up! what are you afraid of?" And when i ask myself that question, i am at a loss to answer it. what the hell AM i afraid of? i have been having this fight with myself for years to no avail. so i decided to try the "Work" and see if maybe i couldn't get somewhere finally (though i admit i was skeptical). Anyway, it became apparent to me over several session of trying to get at the issue but not, what the actual issue is.<br /><br />now it may seem like an overstatement - and it is - but there is a part of me that REALLY believes it - that the world is not a safe place to be me. without getting into specifics, there have been times in my life where it was absolutely NOT safe to be me, which is one of the reasons that this belief is locked up somewhere inside my psyche. so when i was asked "is that thought true?" i had to say, "sometimes, hell yes it is - AND i know that absolutely." but then i had to look back at my original statement "the world is not a safe place to be me" and i had to admit that some true experiences did not make the whole world unsafe - because that is how i was treating the world.<br /><br />so then she asked me what was my payoff in having this belief. i had to admit that i was trying to keep myself safe, but that in reality holding on to that belief really did not affect my day to day safety. in fact - and here's the kicker - if you are always worrying about what might happen, what others might think feel or say if you say or do something then you are always a little bit afraid. after all, let's call a spade a spade - worry is fear. so when your mind is always shooting out these tendrils of fear all the time - how do you know when to listen when your genuine alarm system kicks in to alert you to real danger? it's not that danger to your safety does not exist, but what good is the belief that world is not safe when it causes you to live out of sync with your true self? Not to mention that the VAST majority, if not all, of the random ways i don't stand up for myself are not really related to my safety anyway.<br /><br />even after all of that realizing going on, i still had a hard time imagining my world without that thought. so what a blessing when i realized that i DO know what it feels like to live without that thought. that is why i go to festivals like dreamtime and element 11. i let go of that thought while i am there and i am just me; that's why i love going there so much! that realization just busted the whole thing wide open for me. so i know that i am not just over this issue, just like that. i know that i have work ahead of me, because the thought of being open and honest with some people in my life still makes me want to hightail it back into that imaginary safe zone where i hide, but at least now i see the crack of light shining through that shut door, and i know that it IS possible to live without fear paralyzing me.Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-34596915993474434942010-07-12T21:26:00.000-07:002010-07-12T21:52:40.535-07:00from the mouths of...almost 3rd graders<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TDvvOwstF6I/AAAAAAAAADs/SDVpk1uxLlU/s1600/dreams.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 257px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TDvvOwstF6I/AAAAAAAAADs/SDVpk1uxLlU/s320/dreams.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493247207378065314" /></a><br />in my summer school class, i have sort of a theme for the week; last week it was the solar system. in honor of solar system adventures, i brought in "the universe" season 1 (a history channel series) and let them vote on which episode they wanted to watch. though i was pulling for the gas giants, they wanted to watch the sun - well it was a close race between the sun and the moon, but the sun won by a single vote. <br /><br />the funny thing about this particular series is that they are always trying to make the solar system into some kind of EXTREME SPORTS or something. kevin and i laugh when they do it and say in our best boxing match announcer voice "death from above!" anyway, the video talked about solar storms for awhile and the kids all asked me if solar storms would kill the earth and i told them no, just disrupt our electronics :) but near the end they started to talk about how the sun will (in approximately 5 BILLION years) become a red giant and swallow up mercury, venus, and earth. this freaked them out. i tried explaining that 100 years is a long time for a human to live and that we are talking BILLIONS of years before the sun engulfs the earth, but little kids are not so good with time scales.<br /><br />in the midst of this "the sun will swallow the earth" mini-panic, one of my kids says, "it doesn't matter. none of us are alive anyway; we are all just living in someone's dream and when they wake up we won't be here." where do they get this stuff? then another kid chimes in in agreement. so i ask them who is doing the dreaming, and they look at me like i am slow and say "nobody knows!"<br /><br />have i mentioned lately how i adore my job?Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-57042109863479020902010-07-08T20:46:00.000-07:002010-07-08T21:02:35.388-07:00grimus and the angel of death<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TDafTCjaMgI/AAAAAAAAADk/I2zHf0x69-E/s1600/Paul_Gustave_Dore_Raven1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 215px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TDafTCjaMgI/AAAAAAAAADk/I2zHf0x69-E/s320/Paul_Gustave_Dore_Raven1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491751945076617730" /></a><br /><br />a family friend (who i have not met yet, but will meet in a little over a week but already has a place in my heart because my fam loves her) just asked for a book recommendation because she has a train ride coming up. i was trying to think of a good book to recommend (there are just SO many good books in the world) and the one i chose was "grimus" by salman rushdie. i read that book last year and it really captured me in a way that books seldom do. i remembered that i blogged about it on my old myspace blog when i was reading it, so i went and dug that up to share a piece of this most amazing piece of literature.<br /><br /><br />-It's a serious tale, she said. It is about the Angel of Death. In the story, he is sent out by God to collect the dead souls; but he finds a frightening thing happening to him, for as he swallows each soul it becomes a part of him. And so Death is changed, metamorphosed as it were, by each dying creature. The poor Angel finds it a bigger and bigger strain, and also begins to have doubts about whether he even exists as an independent being with all these people inside him; so he returns to God and asks to be relieved of his function. And what do you think he finds? This: that God too, is tired of his job, and wants to die. God asks the Angel to swallow him and of course the Angel cannot refuse. So he does, and God dies; but the effort of swallowing him breaks the heart of the Angel. And there is a very sad ending, when he realizes that Death cannot die, for there is no-one to swallow him. Don't you think that's a very pretty, neat tale?<br /><br />-grimus p141<br /><br />and i knew i could count on gustave dore for a most excellent picture to accompany this post :)Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-10977017993808653332010-07-02T19:59:00.001-07:002010-07-02T22:27:53.952-07:00a shout-out to the peeps who bless my life<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC7KSve-o-I/AAAAAAAAADU/eQuNMLnxoqQ/s1600/e11+10.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC7KSve-o-I/AAAAAAAAADU/eQuNMLnxoqQ/s200/e11+10.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489547419144070114" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6uLL2hebI/AAAAAAAAACM/fvHkNRIP_K8/s1600/photo+shoot+3.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 137px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6uLL2hebI/AAAAAAAAACM/fvHkNRIP_K8/s200/photo+shoot+3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489516502994483634" /></a>the first session of "The Work" that i did involved my feelings of fear and frustration over someone in my life (not friend or family, just someone i am forced to interact with in my life). afterward i went to grab a bite with a friend who was also at the session with me who also knows the person i had just done "Work" on. in our conversation, my friend mentioned to me that on one occasion our mutual acquaintance told her in all seriousness that she doesn't really have friends because they are too much work and she prefers it that way.<br /><br />this has been rolling around in my brain a lot since i heard it. i think of the myriad ways my life is blessed because of my friends - even those i am not that close to, and CERTAINLY by those i hold especially dear to my heart. i feel compassion for any being who would see relationships with others as a chore rather than a treasure. after that day, i really just can't see her as scary and mean as i used to. obviously there is no way for me to know if she truly doesn't want friends because they are a bother, or that is a smokescreen - and it really is none of my business. yet, i can't help imagining life without all the awesome people i count as friends.<br /><br />in fact, i just reconnected with a college friend today who i haven't seen in person for about 12 years. and i came away from that meeting with the feeling that i am glad i know him. that got me thinking about how glad i am that i know so many of the people that i do. i am trying to contrive a way to let people know that i appreciate them and their contribution both to my life and to our collective experience here on this most amazing of planets.<br /><br />i think of my mother - considered quite poor by typical standards - and i think what a rich life she has had and does have because of the people she has made connections with - TRUE CONNECTION. i know that it's cliche to say that there are more important things than money, and i bitch about not having money on a fairly regular basis - but the truth is i love my life. i love my life because of all the wonderful people i have in my life. so here's to all the people i love - *SMOOTCH*<br /><br />ah...micheal franti just started playing on my ipod. nice.<br /><br />and the following pics are a mere representation of the people in my life who rock and is by no means a definitive list. :)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6wmVwuK8I/AAAAAAAAADM/1Dgfs5ES0KQ/s1600/jer+and+jules.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6wmVwuK8I/AAAAAAAAADM/1Dgfs5ES0KQ/s200/jer+and+jules.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489519168534227906" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6wE2fu85I/AAAAAAAAADE/ibWjZ-THc4g/s1600/adr+and+knate.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6wE2fu85I/AAAAAAAAADE/ibWjZ-THc4g/s200/adr+and+knate.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489518593205793682" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6v1kC78pI/AAAAAAAAAC8/BrBQ2Uyv0EI/s1600/mom+and+jules.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6v1kC78pI/AAAAAAAAAC8/BrBQ2Uyv0EI/s200/mom+and+jules.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489518330555134610" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6vYxGnYWI/AAAAAAAAAC0/22NO7Vlyzhw/s1600/me+and+shelle.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6vYxGnYWI/AAAAAAAAAC0/22NO7Vlyzhw/s200/me+and+shelle.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489517835844018530" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6vUaHToxI/AAAAAAAAACs/Tnwb5TCQC1E/s1600/me+and+kev.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6vUaHToxI/AAAAAAAAACs/Tnwb5TCQC1E/s200/me+and+kev.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489517760953426706" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6vKLSPBQI/AAAAAAAAACk/3mRvrasqW-U/s1600/P1011214.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6vKLSPBQI/AAAAAAAAACk/3mRvrasqW-U/s200/P1011214.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489517585174037762" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6utC0NQ5I/AAAAAAAAACc/JAA6ASqQrGg/s1600/nate%27s+crown.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6utC0NQ5I/AAAAAAAAACc/JAA6ASqQrGg/s200/nate%27s+crown.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489517084684403602" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6ud75pViI/AAAAAAAAACU/ES223djkqgY/s1600/e11+30.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6ud75pViI/AAAAAAAAACU/ES223djkqgY/s200/e11+30.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489516825130128930" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6tfIwEcYI/AAAAAAAAAB8/bb_Vcj4Cc6A/s1600/ash%27s+10.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6tfIwEcYI/AAAAAAAAAB8/bb_Vcj4Cc6A/s200/ash%27s+10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489515746247864706" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6tXoV1nDI/AAAAAAAAAB0/jO-p0KuGLqQ/s1600/ash%27s+20.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6tXoV1nDI/AAAAAAAAAB0/jO-p0KuGLqQ/s200/ash%27s+20.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489515617288821810" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6t9KbLB0I/AAAAAAAAACE/AuryIsOjmJw/s1600/leah+9.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TC6t9KbLB0I/AAAAAAAAACE/AuryIsOjmJw/s200/leah+9.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489516262093162306" /></a>Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-61708282999175317232010-06-29T16:58:00.000-07:002010-06-29T17:32:32.209-07:00fat-cat brain<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TCqL4bVPJtI/AAAAAAAAABs/tDdwXuI6m-A/s1600/boo+kitty.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qfgtYmehfWA/TCqL4bVPJtI/AAAAAAAAABs/tDdwXuI6m-A/s320/boo+kitty.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488352897430136530" /></a><br />so i have done three "Work" sessions now, but the one i did today blew my mind. for those of you who don't know about byron katie and her "Work", you start with a thought that distresses you and and allow yourself to feel it fully and watch what that thought does to your life. how does life feel with that thought? how do you treat yourself when you think this thought? how do you treat others when you think this thought? etc. <br />then when you're all done with that you imagine your life as if it were impossible to think that thought. not that the subject of the thought doesn't exist, but that it is impossible for you to think that particular thought. so my thought today was people shouldn't threaten each other. so i had to imagine what would my life be if i COULD NOT think that thought, not what would my life be like if people didn't threaten each other. <br />that step was a hard one for me! i literally could not imagine life without that thought. so my friend gave me a tool that she uses when trying to work through very deeply entrenched thoughts; she pictures herself in her dog's head. so i put myself in fat cat's head. is it possible for the fat to think that people shouldn't threaten each other? nope, not even a little bit. then i could see what my life could be like without that thought. it's freeing really, to let go for a second and see that you truly are FREE to be as happy or as miserable as you want to make yourself. and you have NO ONE to blame but yourself if you are unhappy or stressed.<br /><br />take a second to let that sink in...<br /><br />me - i'm going try living in fat cat's head-space a bit more.Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-25798646300879515132010-06-23T18:57:00.000-07:002010-06-23T19:23:45.081-07:00one of my very favorite poemsi have been thinking about this poem a lot lately because of all the spring flowers i have been enjoying (there is a line "flesh like the bright puffs the flower-god puts on in spring, flimsy for needing to last"). as you know if you have been reading my blog, i have been been wrapping my head around the idea of non-permanence when it comes to life, so that line would echo in my head when i would see a flower. i have been trying to let things be what they are and enjoy each moment i have on its own terms without thinking how it won't last or how i want it to be different. i still have a long way to go, but hey, life's about the journey, right? <br /><br />this poem is by a poet i found in a sort of unusal way :) back when i was first dating nathaniel and kim was first dating james, she and i went to ogden to meet the boys. we had planned to meet them in one of those book/music/movie mega-stores, and we got there before them. so we were over in the poetry aisle and we spotted a book titled "10 poems to change your life". kim and i scoff (we are sort of poetry elitists) and i open the book at random to see if my life was about to be changed. the poem that i opened to was called "last gods" by galway kinnell. i read it aloud and kim and i just sat there speechless when it was done. i quietly and carefully placed the book back on the shelf, giving the poem the reverence it deserved, and thus was born my adoration of galway kinnell.<br /><br />the poem i want to share isn't actually "last gods" though i highly recommend the poem. it's in his book "when one has spent a long time alone", as is the poem i am about to share.<br /><br />so... without further ado i give you...<br />AGAPE<br />I want to touch her.<br />Once. Again. I will wait<br />if I must. Outwait.<br />Wait so long she will age,<br />pull even, pass. How<br />will she like it then if<br />when i bend to kiss wrinkles <br />ray out around her <br />mouth? I want to hold her.<br />In the flesh. All night.<br />Flesh like the bright <br />puffs the flower-god<br />puts on in spring, flimsy<br />for needing to last<br />but this one flashing <br />circuit through her<br />apparitions. Did she fear,<br />when i stood with the<br />precipice at my back<br />and beckoned, that i was a specter<br />she would plunge through?<br />At the agape, love's addicts<br />lie back, drink, listen<br />to a priestess discourse <br />on love rightly understood.<br />As soon as cured anyone<br />can get up and go over<br />and bestow the Kiss<br />on anyone. Now the others<br />have disappeared - maybe<br />cured, probably joining lips<br />behind doors. It is<br />the Fourth Cup - the hour<br />for the breaking of the <br />transubstantiated body.<br />What if we break, the priestess<br />and I, the body<br />together? And I fall<br />in fear and longing?<br />And she commands me to <br />dissolve in the light<br />of love rightly understood,<br />or if i can't, to put<br />a gun to my head? I don't want<br />to know that on the other<br />side of the pillow nobody<br />stirs. I don't want ever <br />again to sit up half the night<br />and laugh and forget not<br />all of us will rejoice<br />like this always.Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453613685656214574.post-91807206449899946322010-06-23T18:19:00.000-07:002010-06-23T18:34:05.422-07:00she moves in mysterious waysso, for some unknown reason whenever my mother posts a new blog (broccoli4breakfast.wordpress.com) my facebook profile posts it on my wall - as me, not my mom. i am not sure what setting i changed to make that happen, but i liked knowing when my mom posts anyway, so i'm not too concerned.<br /><br />anyway, on monday my mom posted a new blog and i got this comment from a friend<br /><br />"Kat! Did I tell you I'm just finishing up my certification to teach/facilitate 'The Work?' Come for a session or two... it's great stuff and I could totally see you using/teaching it as well!"<br /><br />i hadn't even had a chance to read my mom's blog. i responded that i would love to come do this "Work" (though i didn't know what this "Work" was), so we have been setting up a time to do this. today i finally got a chance to sit down and read my mom's post. it turns out that the whole post is on a system of overhauling your thought patterns with the goal of creating joy in your life at all times developed by byron katie. her system is called "The Work".<br /><br />i had no idea that my friend's certification was the same thing my mom has been into since she received katie's book from our friend knate while she was visiting me last month. so, i am going to visit a group that does this "Work" tomorrow. i have been working hard over the past couple years to release anger from my life, so i look forward to this chance happening.<br />more joy for everyone!Pixiecolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07434159551083055983noreply@blogger.com0