Bright Idea #105: Live in Season.

"One granite ridge/A tree, would be enough/Or even a rock, a small creek,/A bark shred in a pool./Hill beyond hill, folded and twisted/Tough trees crammed/In thin stone fractures/A huge moon on it all, is too much./The mind wanders. A million
Summers, night air still and the rocks/Warm. Sky over endless mountains./All the junk that goes with being human/Drops away, hard rock wavers/Even the heavy present seems to fail/This bubble of a heart./Words and books/Like a small creek off a high ledge
Gone in the dry air./A clear, attentive mind/Has no meaning but that/Which sees is truly seen./No one loves rock, yet we are here./Night chills. A flick/In the moonlight/Slips into Juniper shadow:/Back there unseen/Cold proud eyes/Of Cougar or Coyote/Watch me rise and go." First time through i accomplish the kitchener stitch thanks to a woman in norway. phlegmy, rattle-lunged, the bold biotic army bivouacs in all quarters, circling the heart. dry scanty snow, im due to oversee recess in a few hours, waiting for my jeans to dry. last nights dream more alienation and wandering, a drying rack wrapped in christmas lights, skunks and pigs in the mall foyer, cats and birds in the ceiling. i went for a soda and discovered three five-hundred dollar bills in my wallet. a feminist film festival, the face of marilyn monroe on the hood of a blue corvette. little bread skulls and illuminated pumpkins, a call from the soul-brother beneath the same starry sky.

Bright Idea #104: You Cant Cross a Chasm in Two Small Jumps.

"..we need to be suffused /with lusty compassion and ecstatic duty, /ingenious love and insurrectionary beauty...The roads they pave us,/the places they save us,/the tomatoes they grow us,/the rivers they flow us./Their mysterious stories,/and morning glories,/their loaves and fishes,/granting our wishes./The songs they sing us,/the gifts they bring us,/the secrets they show us,/above and below us./Thanks to them,
from whom the blissful blessings flow, /we are waking up." Snow. still sickly but the cash came through and provisions were got, including the albuterol which makes my hands tremble but breathing is nice. snow small and hard, spitting snow, #4 said quite correctly that the morning snow resembled crumbled styro, but tasted like vanilla. everyone relieved and well-fed, coffeed and medicated, the Mr. started PT and the boys and i went to the lakehouse to scavenge what was left behind. flora/fauna guides, mysterious wickless oil lamp, an oar. french onion crocks in faux festiva colors, a meat/corn/coffee grinder, an enamel pot. keys and candles and a cooties game from the fifties. baskets,glassware and a mug reading "#1 MOM." it snows (tiddly-pom) and theres breakfast for dinner and we learn that a stamen holds pollen and an ovary holds eggs and dispersal is another word for scattering. we learn that in art class, neither dragons nor hot-tubs were allowed. snow through the night, i suppose, but cuddled deep and dear under the duvet my dreams have been long and legendary, fantastic men and women and more highways and a huge pane of glass that broke in my hands and ended up red sand in my mouth. word that soul-brother may show up on this shore shortly. happy new year.

Dog Is My Co-Pilot


Hey! Youre supposed to be navigating!


Yes, I think the bank ladies will have those biscuits.


Hows my driving?

Bright Idea #103: Stop Doing Whats Not Working.

"Dark of the Moon/New beginnings/Dark of the Moon/Plant a seed tonight/Dark of the Moon/What we envision/Will come to be by the Full Moon's light." Sick. achy, phlegmy, directing the morning from the cloud, my late riser and my early riser, keeping an ear out for the comforting sounds of progress, grateful theyre old enough to self-direct until i can crawl out and send #4 off in the rain hes yelling at me from the road, "get inside! youre sick! its raining!" i feed the pack cold cuts in lieu of dry food and the cats get canned soup and everyone seems satisfied settling down for what they sense is a day of no walks and lots of sleeping. grateful for my cozy little house and the love of family and the pack trying to remind myself to keep my shoulders down from around my ears grateful for a break in the clouds of wheezy breathing grateful that theres still a little coffee and plenty of clean water and i wont worry ill just do what needs to be done. at one point, listening to democracy now! in the red chair working the heel of second sock, i had O., L1, L2, Z., and two cats on and about me, all sending little four-paw reiki to me, sighing contented and snuggled harmonious. animal comforts. im okay as long as i sit down or else i get the shakes and expectorate. but i manage soup and bread and dishes and laundry and tomorrow therell be provisions and Samhain is coming and therell be a fire and merriment and a pomegranate for the passing over.

Bright Idea #102: Notice Whats Right.
"Compared to some things, the wind was actually tangible." The winds of november came early, huge hands of air that evicted unwilling oak leaves from their sentry posts over spring buds. i go out underdressed the chill running through my pullover like water but ive swaddled my head and hands in wool and covered my core in down, i rationalize to myself, picking out shredded aluminum cans and wet paper bags from under tall dead culvert grass B. gets wrapped in wild rose briar and im thanking him for his restraint as i unweave him. quickly the biobag-in-paper-boutique-bag fills and im chasing peanut butter cracker wrappers and sweating cigarette packs escaping. the homeschool boy is beating at stump rounds with a blunt axe. no gunfire today, the winds confound its an uneasy day for horses and the wind you hear is blowing through the trees on the other side of the valley storm weather written in clouds like childrens wave forms and one remarkable condensation in the shape of a hermit crabs tail. cars pass we pull over on the wide verge before the electric fence and wide rusting fields beyond, considering the sky the names written in the negative space of clouds my left and right hemispheres engaged in an animated dialog i stay out of standing there with the dogs and the day and i made peanut butter cookies because #4 asked for them and knit my first sock proud showing off to P. who comes over to discuss the falling down barn and woodstoves and leaves with a paper bag of peanut butter cookies and im so grateful were getting along and planning for Samhain.

Bright Idea #101: Play, Snacks and Naps.

"Lay down these words/Before your mind like rocks./placed solid, by hands/In choice of place, set/Before the body of the mind/in space and time:/Solidity of bark, leaf, or wall/riprap of things:/Cobble of milky way./straying planets,/These poems, people,/lost ponies with/Dragging saddles –/and rocky sure-foot trails./The worlds like an endless/four-dimensional/Game of Go./ants and pebbles/In the thin loam, each rock a word/a creek-washed stone/Granite: ingrained/with torment of fire and weight/Crystal and sediment linked hot/all change, in thoughts,/As well as things." An extraordinarily peaceful day. the wind was soft and warm. more birds to see, theyre captains of industry, feeding and fending, erupting from shrubs and going quiet as the hawk cries over us, searching, circling. trees are mostly bare and the guns are coming you can hear them tuning like an orchestra down the valley on the way home there are two deer strapped to the boot of a teal sedan. we were feeling so easy and free we walked west to the crossroad and the honey smell of the woods and peaceful pines bearing wild grapevine and longshadows beautiful roosters crowing at unexpected sunlight. i avert my eyes from the little pelts and the dogs can smell the entrails in the gully and everything is unwound in the warmth i come home grateful for water make a really beautiful banana bread recline with the buckwheat warmer in the red chair making a small dent in the media pile. #4 stays over an extra night with his father well make it an early night and tomorrow baking pb chip cookies as requested and errands that dont require leaving home. a long long day and ive been eating way too much popcorn lately. grateful for: 1) the ancient asthma meds i found in the medicine pantry to make up for the albuterol, etc. i cant afford 2) my pack 3) my buckwheat warmer 4) the peace and sanity of the natural world 4)that banana bread 5) my chocolate body lotion from w.s. 6) the music of stony creeks falling down the hill near the crossroad 7) learning that what e.o. said years ago was true. life can be broken down into three entirely manageable situations: play, naps and snacks. im grateful for the whole illuminated infrastructure of my life that allows for so much space and energy and stillness and movement.

Bright Idea #100: Do Something About It.

"I actually believe that for us, this is probably the richest, most sure-fired and gratifying way I can think of to prepare for the ‘real world’: spending time getting to knowing ourselves as intimately and passionately as possible before venturing out to share who we are with the world." a great rushing wind but not arctic and theres pancakes for breakfast and the goddess mala and good coffee and im uncovering my eyes to see if anyone sees me. when the hearths in this house will be a true haven. im looking forward to a quiet weekend of popcorn and printed matter. im so grateful for the blog community i skitter along the edge of, in whirlwind eddies of weather and leaves my nose pressed to the glass all the peaceful people making this world more wonderful one breath at a time, all the gentle hearts sharing their creativity and Light and even from so far away i feel more at home in the world knowing there are lightworkers out there like me, living deep and sweetly and caring enough about the others to share. all the patterns, recipes, insights and reassurances ive received through the blogging community i am infinitely grateful for. so the luminous gratitudes go out to 1) all y'all 2) the pack 3) popcorn and printed matter 4) my health and strength both meta- and physical. 5) susanclare 6) fair-trade, organic coffee 7) the sumptuous banquet of words by washington irving and andrew davidson 8) the painting troddenweed by andrew wyeth 9) hope, which is truly a feathered thing.

Wanted to share with you a little what i did today. a goddess mala in honor of Artemis, Mary, Hecate and Changing Woman. and let me take this opportunity to suggest this most excellent purveyor of lovely and unusual beads. Blessed Be.

Bright Idea #99: If You Build It, It Will Come.

"Dave,/You've been engaged/Four times/But never married./“One more”/You said/“And I’ll have one/For the thumb”/Diane,/You never been with a man/More than six months,/Nor single/Since sixteen/You’re thirty-six/In August/Maybe that’s why/You hate/Mathematics/Mr. Cranefly,/You have twenty-four hours/From the egg/To mature/Mate
And die./What are you doing/Inside?/And you,/You there/In the notebook,/Mr. Poet,/Defending your life/Like a squid/With the ink,/Your troubles/Aren’t even/Worth mentioning" Louise driveway dry-docked for the time being #4 and i took the yellow bus to work and all the children with their open faces and i knowing their names and this bus was clean and orderly and didnt disturb me like the one previous and the little boy who lags behind held his face to the window and chatted to himself as my charge had done the week before. it is a happy heart smiled at by children. corrections and conversation in the lunchroom about triskeles, italian horns and joan of arc. the day was bright and not over-cold, when a drill was called that may have led to a long walk down the road a young friend called me over to make sure i had brought my inhaler. when i walked into the early lunch the little ones cheered and it is a happy heart cheered at by children. S. drove us home and i made cornbread and butter cake and chili for the boys and we took a moonwalk and pondered the planets and when we got home they played in legos as i read the second installment of the Legend of Sleepy Hollow. ill tidy and go to bed for a book and a cup of tea in the high cold night of late october. where am i in a year? here, living gently, patient with myself and the questions. id like to be hired, and relieved of all the present arrears. i read how vital it is to simply hug. i read how meditation is good for the skin. id like to not suffer so much inside or out. be at ease in my skin in my world. go forward by the light of my stars in health and happiness, being of use, filling sketchbooks and canvas and bamboo needles and cake pans and cookie sheets and garden rows and rose beds and doing more giving, donating, volunteering, listening, learning, evolving, deep breathing, praying, meditating, stretching, loving, and laughing. so mote it be.

Bright Idea #98: Name the Stars You Navigate By.

"Flowers and fruits are always fit presents; flowers because they are a proud assertion that a ray of beauty outvalues all the utilities of the world." Off the top id have to say Mindfulness, Love, Kindness, Non-Violence, Clarity, Generosity, Joy. and i recognize how theyre like the Pleiades, singular entities but a conglomerate blur when seen from a distance. seven sisters. Mindful, Kind, Non-Violent, Clear, Generous, Lovely, Joyful. and sometimes theyre right in my eyes and sometimes theyre lightyears away. but theyre there for me to contemplate and wish upon, shrouded in sunlight or revealed in darkness. Love is the Great Mother of them all, id say. Love engenders all other positive and love-ly presences. we are Mindful, Kind and Non-Violent because we acknowledge that all things come from Love and are worthy of our patience, compassion and understanding. this includes ourselves and our lives and our time. we seek Clarity to keep spacious and clean the space between ourselves and our world so that the Light shines brightly, guiding our way. we are Generous because we are a vessel for the Light and the Love that wishes only to flow through us in the guise of a thousand virtues. flower, fruit, branch, root.

osage+orange just happened to post about the pleiades, too.

Bright Idea #97: Do What You Love, Love What You Do.

"You've got to own your days and name them, every one of them, or else the years go right by and none of them belong to you." No brainer bright idea arent they all, but an important lesson for me to integrate into my heart and mind, I who drifted mindless through so many years, abdicated my will because i didnt get to die under the dock and lived sixteen years learning loathing and suspicion its a big epiphany. i believe that if you are and do whatever it is with your whole heart, 'failure is impossible' even if you miss your mark. countless inspirational adages are based on this, which makes me feel a bit suspect. but do what you love. follow your bliss. and make whatever you do a prayer. theres worse advice. and today in the sniffly damp i need a little franklin stove of cheerful thoughts, feeding the fire a tinder of minutes. before when i came under his caustic critique i would let it smother my good going with wet newsprint and ashes. now i keep the door closed. im learning at this late hour what is good and what is not so and more importantly i am learning that i can choose what i expose myself to. before i played sebastian to any passing arrow. and im grateful for the learning even at this late hour. content to sit at my happy fire and give freely of its warmth if its warmth is welcome. but i dont feel compelled to feed the fiends anymore. bring to me your ember of Light. we can braid our breath together and off you go with your belly-fire in a bowl to guide you. i live by my Light and if it doesnt suit you theres a million little lights everywhere for the liking. a moment of sun changes the timbre of the morning.



#4 stayed home sick. damp cold drizzle and blow waiting on the hecate beads to string october dark moon triple goddess mala my shoulders around my ears we keep the house at 50 and the evenings cooking and laundry keep us warm til bedtime. driving to town made me uneasy, the bank ladies cooed at Z. and fed her biscuits i broke down and bought ice cream to soothe my jangled nerves screaming dairy early to bed with gargoyle and todays gratitude award goes to 1) clean sheets 2) knitting 3) hot and cold running water 4) printed matter 5) the web of friends. carmelized onions and potatoes quiet tuesday night with tea and bed tired of fending off and parrying tired of playing defense when id rather be ferdinand with corks on my horns.

Bright Idea #96: Tell Me What You Want (What You Really Really Want).

"We don't need lists of rights and wrongs, tables of do's and don'ts: we need books, time, and silence. 'Thou shalt not' is soon forgotten, but 'Once upon a time' lasts forever." Paying attention to myself i realize that through me the energy flows and like a canyon rider its up to me to take the current and avoid the rocks. thats my life advice. Take the Current and Avoid the Rocks. easy monday energy long walks to and fro it was 40 to and 60 fro. frogged two hats-to-be started third, stumbled upon long stocking pattern to break my sock-pattern-phobia. artemis beads and chocolate chip for the boys after school started sauce washed the sheets and after supper went out with Z. to try the whole go get it and bring it back thing ended up in the garden pulling gourd vines. tomorrow has garden duty written on it. clear it and till it and call it winter. the vest is a gift. good deep pocketses for inhaler rose quartz snack ball of yarn for mobile knitting. my water supply is making a difference. we get older and i suppose our consciousness shifts, the way we see ourselves. i love, honor and obey my body. i dont need it nipped tucked puffed tinted tarmacked. S. brought to my attention i am the only one she knows without make-up or a cell phone. my reflective energy called cold and worse but they were words from the bottom of a wine jug and who else should i be? life advice: Consider the Source. tomorrow gardening indoors and out, the geraniums molting for less light, the hoya thirsty. the gratitude gold stars today go to: 1) this vest and my sister for gifting me with it and being a real miracle in and of herself forever saving me from myself 2) autumn doing her thing so beautifully in the great circle of things. 3)dogs for taking the current and avoiding the rocks. 4) clean water in a mason jar bathing a billion cells with themselves. 5) a shout out to all the community helpers that make our lives better than good: the post mistress, shop keeper, bus driver, volunteer fire fighter and emt.

Bonus Track #12:



This ones for me.

Bright Idea #95: 36.

Went with the Mr. and #3&4 to the winding trails marsh and ponds to smell the trees and feed the birds. Little thistle seed claws clutching just long enough for sunflower seed beak to choose its morsel. little feathered spirits symbols of endurance and resilience and deep knowing. the walk a gift of infinite proportions, the deer we stood and watched for a childs eternity, Mr. showing #4 the scrapes and the rubs (the chickadees ate off the crown of his hat) #3 and i up and around ahead discussing wands and living there, both of us dressing tree stumps with birdseed. the deer were beautiful magickal powerful the toasted fen warm in moment of generous october sun the song of water over stones from under the bridge the last light and leaf litter a painting my brain falls into so much energy i get all psychedelic and the glorious smell of pine sap on open cones the brain just letting everything blur to make room for it all.



Every leaf and blade and vine and reed a miracle of cosmic engineering the sky and clouds ungulates feathered reptiles witch hazel white pine duckweed and marshwater seeds in our hands feeding anonymous mouths watching with bright eyes from bracken and canopy. i took them to the old boat launch and Mr. and i laid on the dock people were riding heavy roan horses a lady with dogs boys in cars making an exchange. but #3&4 on the shoreline watching water and rocks, the incredibly peaceful wake of the wind #4 and i contemplate going in birthday baptism but theres no change of clothes and were expected elsewhere eventually. a phalanx of joggers on the farther shore. geese. breathing.



Extended apertif at sister chalet a bottle of champagne and cheese baguette a black vest and october maple roses with ornamental cabbage blossoms we go for mexican and i love this place even though they moved it and i had no idea its even better and the chips and enchiladas were just what i needed the heat and creamy all of us just being people shell be in college next year this dry exquisite precise young woman im related to like a compost pile is related to a rose bush and shes got HUEY LONG on her cellphone wallpaper, relying on her assumption that mom and dad fierce line-item conservative republicans wont know who mr. long is and that i wont tell (not enough to worry them overmuch) and being right. they should be far more concerned that their 2nd daughter not the meticulous academic her sister is had pol pot on her wallpaper because juvenile social studies teacher thought it was funny she didnt know and convinced her. the way were swayed by altitude and a big desk.



after back to the manse i settled into my spot and flipped through glossy fashion mags and knit and watched the wedding singer because thats what they were watching even though i liked the guy who ate snakes and drank out of holes better. a drive home where louise has had quite enough of me but because its my birthday doesnt leave me on the side of the road between there and here. and my co-pilot fiddles the dials and we turn into the haven bearing flowers and mexican leftovers and im up at six the next #4 sick with the sick i had before i take the truck and the petrol station one town over is just open driving in the icy dark moonlight in the valley just me and the deer back again and im up now washing floors and doing laundry and J. comes early and the sun is out but im inside getting it together finishing the fingerless glove baking two bread and not reading. 36.