How to Move a Mountain Not I but you, Sweet Lord know how to move through this terrain. A land swelling with rocks and mountains that to the naked eye and skeptical mind seems impossible. But your history in my life has shown that my thoughts betray me because each time you show me the…
Years ago when I first thought of the red thread, and I googled it, there was nothing there but a small reference from the Chinese tradition which states that those who are supposed to meet are connected by an invisible red thread since before birth.
It was given to me in prayer, on the way to a Native American women’s circle being held up a Lake Isabella, as well as at the Delores Huerta Foundation. I was working with Native American Elder Tonantzin Guerra Rennick, who found me through my coloring book and journal, Color of Woman.
After filling hers to the brim, Tonantzin asked the Tribal Taniff for the Bakersfield area to work with me to so that I could come and bring creative journaling to the women. On the way there, I prayed to Our Lady to show me how to identity myself as ‘being of love’, right away, so as the create trust among the women, so we could get to work. The circles were to last but a few short hours, and to make headway into creative journaling and the practice of it I would need to move swiftly into deep territory. Plus I was nervous.
Visionary Woman has the ability to see between the worlds. Visionary Woman is an inventor of possibilities. She is not governed by reason and rule, but by a sense within herself that there is something she is called to do – and indeed must do. The Visionary Woman, refers to a way of being, a space held within all women where seeing what is possible, has more power than our limitations.
Do you choose, or are your chosen?
Do you make the path
or has it been in you all along?
The good news is that we are waking up.
The bad news is that the alarm went off a while ago.
The good news is that it is not too late.
The bad news is that we have to act fast.
The good news is that we actually know what to do.
After everything has been said that can be said, Where are the words to create the future? From what rib shall we be pulled by God to create something all together new? Tired of old bones, old stories and pre-prescribed reconciliation for sins committed before we were even a twinkling strand of DNA in God’s…
Taking action is one of the most essential parts of realizing or manifesting a Vision. If we do not take action our project remains an idea. An action can take many forms: an action plan, a drawing, a mission statement, a luncheon with someone who can assist, building a model, a business card, a web-presence, attending a workshop, planning an event, joining a club, opening a bank account, calling a circle, hiring a coach, creating a space in which to work, buying a binder, setting up a desk, creating a recording, making a collage, a vision board, a manifestation altar or collage, painting it, singing it, praying about it, enrolling others in it, putting it on your computer, starting a blog even if it is just for you, posting affirmations on your mirror, getting friends to remind you of it, calling people who are doing it, volunteering where it is happening, getting in the presence of it somehow. Practice believing in yourself and your project. Walk about it. Dream about it. Make up names for it. If you are a prayer person, pray, if you are a meditation person, meditate, if you are a wish upon a star person, wish and wish and wish. If you are a ‘mostly intellect’ person, think on! As it is all very much about our thinking. If you are a chef, cook it in your soups, if you exercise, move it! FOCUS on it! To create with good intention, can be an act of personal and collective abundance.
Who Are We Going to Be?
I have a strange notion to embrace our economy. A mystical sense that to navigate these changes with grace will require deep love, not regret or blame. While at every turn, fear is present with the “what if’s” it has always used to leverage itself into our lives. Each day, I face fear with paintbrush and pen in hand and kindly reply, “I have no need of your stories, but, thank you for reminding me.” To choose not to submit, when fear, regret, blame, shame and other not-so-kind frequencies have been laced into the air by the unseen hands of doom sayers – well, it takes courage.
woke up EARLY so I could get to my writing table. But first there was the GIANT ant type creature I had to extract from the bathroom. Then I had to collect last nights dishes from their party strewn locations throughout the house, I cooked up a feast and as is custom in my house, we do not do the dishes on the night of the party.
The party was just Isaiah and I and our kitty, Shiniata, but in the soft starlight, listening to Emmylou Harris, and making yummie food and having fun constitutes a party.
So before I could get to the writing table, I remembered that I had put lima beans on to soak and had let them soak too long. So, I had to drain them and get the soup started. Last night I made Quinoa chicken, Isaiah made homemade salsa, and I got the fixins together for two soups, black bean and white bean. I put the black beans in the crock pot, and so they are done. But now I really should start the white beans. It will just take a minute. Draining the beans I see a VERY feisty spider in the sink. Had I not already dealt with a VERY feisty ant creature I may have tried to get her out of the sink that instant. But the an creature had jumping qualities that had kind of got me jumpy and so I watched and the spider too, was jumping, but not high enough to get out of the sink. I said to myself, let me drain the beans, I will avoid your part of the big white sink, then I will take you out. This did look like a biting kind of spider, but I do not kill spiders. So I drained my beans and got soup stuff out the fridge and kind of observed the spider moving about and jumping around. She seemed, well, fine to me. As if I could wait a few minutes to get to her. Very active she was. I put the white beans on the stove, cut the zucchini squash from my Auntie’s garden, I had baked into little chunks, and turned to the sink.
This is my feminism.
That I might think the thoughts which I would like to think.
Free from the frames of thinking which I have taken on.
Conscious or unconscious.