The Quiet Words

#nodapl

Cultural appropriation. Let's look at it. Maybe it's time to face the fact that throughout the history of this country at one time or another we have all made this mistake. I myself have bought and worn an American Indian Headdress thinking I looked fantastic. Maybe I should say

 "unthinking".

I am a non- native. 

Years ago I was invited to pray in a way that has opened my heart and eyes to the astonishing plight of the Numerous Nations of American Indian people. These ways helped me find a way into my own heart which I had thought was a hopeless and lost cause. I feel very connected and grateful to have been so lucky. I am not ashamed of my station in this life. I am proud to show my daughters what I have learned and how to respect the earth and the elements in the ways I have been taught. 

This knowledge has made me much more aware of how I behave around the subject of culture. Now that I am so protective of one that has given me so much, one that isn't of my birth,

 I am sensitive to the fact that there is a big difference between myself and a person of American Indian heritage and I respect that gap with the utmost sincerity. 

Throughout history this gap has been seen from many different perspectives and most of them have been disrespectful and cruel. 

If I have learned anything from my experiences with this spiritual path it is that above all we must try to treat one another with compassion and kindness. 

I think sometimes people don't take the time to look into history and understand the true nature of this issue. We watch celebrities and other social figures and take our cues where they come at the easiest and most accessible crossroads. We laugh as late night hosts make fun of the news on current events thinking that making light of a heavy subject decreases its severity or changes it somehow.  Sometimes people are so much in denial of cultural appropriation that it becomes a distant after thought. That when they buy these costumes and outfits, it almost feels like they themselves are keeping alive the memory of something that passed away long ago which is a non truth.  

This kind of denial or apathy separates us further from what is alive and kicking which is the fact that

People, whatever their culture may be, want to be seen and heard and even loved for who they are. 

Acknowledgment, respect and dignity are birthrights to each and every one of us. Also, maybe a little ownership of the fact that as a society we have allowed ourselves to become apathetic to the needs of our fellows and that maybe we need to change a few things. Maybe we can do this without shame? We are all imperfect humans and there is nothing wrong with admitting you were wrong if you are willing to grow

The Artist

Fold them- Your hands

While liquid mountains whose hearts loom over

the dark languid desert

escape through your soul

 

Emerald God light streaking

Through the clouds

Pouring itself onto the gritty canvas

Use mine-

 

I will stand limp

with eyes like

tender winter bulbs buried deep

Under the frozen earth

 

Fingers as paintbrushes

Take me over

I become the medium filled with the spirit and

Trance of your mathematics

Edges/corners

 

I will glimpse the source of another ( revel/rebel/brokenbone/broken rules)

one fleeting breath

of the rising energy/the spasm of ideas

the inspiration of the Artist as he sets his brow

 

                                                 Your shadow stands tall behind me

 

The spaces between our bodies contract

I am surrender. Every movement a surprise

My fingertips squeezed like grapes pinched

Pushed and pulled

 

And color..... like spun honey/

like life's lubricant

that which can only become visible

long after its death

beholden

Mixed and made real- a little lighter, a little darker

a little pleasure/pain.

 

The science of inspiration

chemical/cerebral

Glassy spiderwebs of light from one souls

Victory cry

Here! I am here.

#poem of the day

we can look back if we need to

for remembrance


....i have loved before


i have always loved

-in every phase 
of my life


i have always believed that if you 
allow your heart to remain open


that love will find its way to you


no matter how low you may be,


or strong


ready or not


if you want to see yourself,


just ask someone to hold the mirror


you can have those lessons


you must only see yourself in it to make it so


but time has moved me close to myself


my love and tender compassion


behold


my dearest affection


of self


my fairest companion- my eyes and heart are forgiving,

even loving

at long last


for the first time in my life

and so

i appeared as quickly as i vanished

from invisible to sparkling clear


and through that lens,
i can see him

and now i fall asleep laughing


 i wake up cherished


get cowboy love songs played for me


i get understood


i get autonomy


i am with him and myself at the same time


i never leave me


he would call me back if i did


because my presence is required


for this to work


not like before


there is no rush/no tremble


this love is calm


there is more to it than love alone


there are tangible things inside it


time is there with it


and idle
 moments spent well


hard work and bothersome chores


that become crisp and filling


quiet is there inside of the love

he gives me

it is there that i seek my solace

when

this world
(as it always has and always will)

becomes too loud


and closed in


too much and too abrasive


i know i can be safe


in his arms

Time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sitting there in the school Gym at 3:25 watching my ten year old daughter prepare for her very first basketball game in her very first team sport experience, I felt the time slow to almost a complete halt.

There are those moments in life where everything feels like the movies in slow motion, and all you can hear is the sound of your own breath. Your heart thumps as if it has floated up and lodged itself directly in the center of your throat. You feel at any moment you will either wake up or black out and you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you will remember. this. moment.

As soon as the game started the 5th graders began the dance of putting all of their hard practice into reality while complete strangers (all seeming like 7 foot tall 11 year olds by the way) pushed them and challenged them with an aggressive determination that most of these young catholic school girls had never seen up to this point. At least my child had not. You could see it on her face.

If adrenaline had a particular expression, she was wearing it.

My primal maternal instincts became my singular perception in that moment. I recognized the sensation as it has happened a few times since I have had the honor to become a mother. I love this analogy, but very truthfully, in the animal kingdom, you would not want to be between my children and myself when that sort of blood is pumping through my veins. Yet, I had to control myself in every way possible to keep my seat and hold my tongue in order to gain the social status of "competent functioning parent". When I watched my child’s face get smashed from the side by another players fist (everyone else including my own kid says she got hit with a basketball but all I saw was her face go sideways and then shock.) This particular societal norm flew right out of the boundaries in my head and way out into space where none of this bullshit seems to matter, and yet I managed to control myself, and fly straight. That is, with the aide of more experienced sports parents I avoided the instinct to stop the game by crawling over the seats to get to her.

Within moments she was not only recovered from her shock but back up and in the game, running up and down the courts with a bright red face and now boasting that same look of wild determination that was in the other girls eyes when we first started. She had gained so much. She was different, not much, but she was different. 

It was just a moment, so brief and so rich, so full of the pollen of growth and change. I don’t think my child will ever even remember it. Not in the way I will. These moments that change us have no ego. They are not written in lights across the sky. They are like spirits or nymphs running through the mist of our consciousness laughing and leaving gifts in secret places. I caught a glimpse. In my primal intuitive space of heightened awareness, linked to the only thing I have ever truly cared about I was able to see. So, what do I do with this information? 

The one thought that keeps coming back to me, is that to actually get back up and walk out onto that court was likely one of the most difficult things my daughter has ever done but she had to do it to be a member of the team. So she did it, she leapt and she grew. Just like that. All the moments that I can remember that felt similar to me personally were ones of great emotional strain or discomfort. When I was out of my comfort zone. Way out, like those times when you find yourself doing something that you did not actually sign up for but the circumstances put you there and you really had no way out. Those moments that you squirm out against because, there is no real way to differentiate counter intuition and fear. Those moments when you truly have no idea what the outcome will be because you have never been here before and you are afraid in some way you will let yourself down. Moments when you have no choice but to do the hard thing. Moments when you have no room to hesitate. Moments where for some reason beyond anything that you could have foreseen or control you find it impossible to be anything else but completely honest and authentic to a fault.

Argue all you want but real honesty is a rare thing. Most of the time, we don’t even realize how dishonest we are with ourselves until it is too late and our lives have changed forever. Still... even in those places the moments come to us. So many times looking back over my life I remember being in those situations and flailing hopelessly. So many times I remember gritting my teeth and powering through. Only a few times did I just let go and let the tide have me, closing my eyes and surrendering to the vast unknown and in those few moments, I gained the most insight. 

We all have our own paths in this life and we are all different and unique in our own ways but sometimes we understand each other and for that I will risk sounding like a fool. So friend, if you find yourself being present enough to recognize one of these moments, let go, and go for it.

Make it interesting.

 

Animal Kingdom

My name is Heidi and I am a single mother of two little girls living in a suburb of Los Angeles. I recently moved my children who are in 5^th and 3^rd grades to a Catholic school. We are not Catholic, so my reason for making this move was primarily that I was hoping to find some more structure and some basic moral guidelines for my daughters. I was hoping that a catholic school would be able to provide at least some spiritual material and they could take or leave what they wanted depending on what ends up being meaningful information to them as individuals. I just felt that it was better than nothing which, for the most part with very few exceptions, is what is being provided at most public and private schools in the area of faith, spirituality and or any real guidance with morals and ethics.

For the moment I am very pleased with our new school and the calming structure it seems to be folding into my “ two home” family. I remember the principle distinctly reassuring me when I interviewed for the school that the Catholic school system wasn’t as archaic as I was afraid it was and that we would all be very welcomed despite our religious preferences which so far has been very true and I am grateful.

 

What I discovered that I hadn’t expected and the whole reason for this piece of writing, was how much I would learn about child sexual abuse prevention.

 This seemed like it would be a very touchy subject in the Catholic community. I didn’t expect to hear even a whisper about it considering the past and all the horrifying cases of abuse that have been recorded committed by none other than Catholic priests. We’ve all heard the stories, but it was quite the opposite. There seemed to be a very “on the table” attitude about it and in fact as I became more familiar with the campus and the general way it is run I realized there is a distinct sense of responsibility to keeping an open communication about raising awareness on this subject. I was surprised to discover that not only do they take raising awareness very seriously; it is mandatory that everyone gets involved.

 

The Archdiocese of Los Angeles (A Catholic term meaning a district for which an archbishop is responsible) Mandates that ALL adults working with and around children take a course of education on child sexual abuse and prevention through the organization called VIRTUS

https://www.virtusonline.org/virtus/

 

 That’s right, ALL adults. Even parents like me who just want to help out in the art room or with kindergarten a couple times a week.

So off I went to Gardena to begrudgingly take the three-hour course that was inevitable along with being fingerprinted so that I could be an involved mama in my children’s school.

As I sat there totally prepared to be bored by scripture that I couldn’t understand and lectures about abuse prevention by the one community that in my mind and lets be honest here, had cornered the market on it. I slowly realized that I had actually never had a serious adult conversation with any child caregiver about sexual abuse prevention up to this point. Ever.

I never thought for one minute that I would need it.

 

I come from a community of parents that put the needs of their kids before their own. Most of the parents I know I met at a local pre-school where the staff used attachment theory and basic neuroscience and human development to help teach parents how to have long lasting relationships with their children. It is a wonderful school with accessible and innovative standards and it truly shaped the way that I parented my daughters for the better. But I never felt in this community that we needed to discuss sexual abuse?! Maybe I missed that topic at the parent potluck meetings but as far as it seems to me most of us still think it could never happen. I still think it could never happen. Not to my girls.

 

 Many of the other mothers that I have met along the toddler raising years had either made a decision to stay home and raise their children or were working hard to mindfully balance work-life and child rearing. We all love our kids. How could there ever be a threat for child abuse in a community like this? Apparently that line of thinking is more common than not and the main reason for awareness. It’s exactly that line of thought that predators have come to rely upon.

As the session began and the facilitator began her talk I was flooded with new information, statistics and facts that I had never heard before. As the course went on a clip was played interviewing a serial predator that had been caught. He had over 400 victims and described the systems he employed to keep his ratios so high. It wasn’t just frightening but I felt like I was a drift in a sea of predators!  My eyes welled with tears as I listened to him reveal his tactics; Setting up his DJ booth at a skating rink so that kids could be invited to be near him out of view of the public, private lessons, manipulation of parents, the list went on and on.

There was also the startling statistic that It could be anyone, but 90% of the cases are with people known by the child, people who work regularly with kids and of course the people we are supposed to trust the most, priests, teachers, policemen and woman, etc.

 

Overwhelm and panic set in. I thought about all the mistakes I had made over the years. People I have allowed into my home without background checking! My mind was abuzz with information and confusion. Who was I supposed to trust?

As the course went on my mind began to calm as some very serious questions were answered and some key and very simple strategies and tips were given to help raise my awareness  discuss the issue with my daughters and their father. Even the sea of burgeoning technological threats was addressed with a calm and united voice. By the end of the course I was left wondering how had I missed all of this information? Why don’t they offer this in every school? Why aren’t there new parent packets filled with these very simple steps and basic red flags to look out for? It is definitely something I wish I had known long before and merits the same space on my refrigerator as the laminated CPR instructions or the how to handle a tantrum steps from my various parent books! I am amazed that I have never been down this dark path of discussion in any of my child-centered communities. Not even my pediatrician gave me this simple information!

 

So here it is folks in black and white. I have pulled basic facts and information from various Child Abuse prevention websites, some Catholic and some others that I found user friendly and helpful.

 I believe as parents and care givers that this information falls on all shoulders to circulate. I would love to see” The five steps to protecting our children” from the Darkness to Light website on every child-centered bulletin board there is.

http://www.d2l.org/site/c.4dICIJOkGcISE/b.6178667/k.93BF/Learn_the_Facts_of_Child_Sexual_Abuse.htm 

I would love for families to print these simple steps and put them up to be seen and discussed with their families, In Doctors offices, public libraries, every school, every after-school program, day care, nursery school and even in hospitals included in parent packets.

I can’t help but think of the prevention outcome of casting a wider net with these basic skills.

I would like to take a moment to thank my Catholic community, school leaders and the Los Angeles Archbishop José H. Gomez for integrating this into the Parent teacher Organizations and curriculum. As difficult as it is to face the darkness of what happened with the priests and criminals that inflicted so much harm to so many innocent children and their families, this program of awareness and prevention and the mandate that anyone coming into contact with any child in the catholic community must be finger printed and complete this course is a definite step in the right direction as far as preventing so many cases to occur unnoticed again.

  Without this community I may have never been forced to look closely at something that at least for me feels too close for comfort.

I may have never found a way to voice my passion about this topic.

 I feel as though a frightened and wounded child has become a fierce and protective Lioness in reverence to all children’s welfare regarding sexual abuse, and I owe it to the fact that my school required me to take this course if I wanted to help out with the kids.

I say these things not forgetting for one moment the families and children who have suffered abuse from their Catholic priest, or clergy person, as I am well aware of the severity of these wounds. I honor the pain and suffering in my own way by encouraging that we all continue to raise awareness and support all of the organizations striving to do so be them Catholic or other.

  http://www.la-archdiocese.org/org/protecting/safeguard/Documents/2015_Working_Together_Brochure_EN.pdf

 

Here are the Virtus five steps of awareness:

1)   KNOW THE WARNING SIGNS

Knowing the warning signs of a potential perpetrators behavior can help us recognize the early indications of someone engaging in inappropriate relationship with a child or young person.

Behavior should be a) PUBLIC

                                      b) Appropriate

                                      c) Non- Sexual in nature

2) CONTROL ACCESS THROUGH SCREENING

      When schools, parishes, after school programs and any other programs where we entrust our children and young people are carefully SCREENED it sends a direct message to potential molesters that we are alert about child sexual abuse.

Back round checks, standards determining who has access to children and why, annual reviewing of guidelines and policies for adults working with minors, and ID badges are just a few screening suggestions.

3) a)MONITORING PROGRAMS AND MINISTRIES

This is basically monitoring all programs eliminating any opportunities for adults to be alone with children in secluded environments. Be aware of what’s going on in schools, after care programs and community centers and even enrichment classes.

    b) MONITORING TECHNOLOGY Follow age limit guidelines. They are in place for a reason. Make sure that your child is aware of the dangers of the Internet and that despite what they may be told the person on the other end is in fact a stranger. This aspect of monitoring has become more and more challenging as the Internet and technology expands so it is critical to keep an open communication with your child and set limits.

4) BE AWARE OF CHILDREN AND YOUNG PEOPLE’S BEHAVIOR

This is such a critical part of abuse detection, especially in young adults and teenagers when parents are so fed up with the behavior of the typical teenager with mood swings and hormones. It is difficult to recognize when there is a real problem, especially if it isn’t a subject that has been broached before.

For this reason, the signs and risks of sexual abuse should be something that is discussed with children and young people on a REGULAR basis. If they know what it is and know that their parents know, they may be able to open up if it becomes a reality for them.

It is so important no matter how busy life gets to LISTEN to your children. If they feel safe to communicate they generally will. For example in my house we have a rule: you never NEVER get in trouble for telling the truth. My kids know and trust this rule and depend on it. Find ways to share your values with your kids so they will have the faith in you when and if they need it to talk about uncomfortable, even paralyzing topics.

Children will all have different ways of acting out depending on the circumstances and their own temperament. Know your child and when they are struggling. Sometimes they don’t even know what is the matter. Remember it is our job as parents to help them recognize and name their feelings.

5) COMMUNICATE YOUR CONCERNS

We all get intuitive feelings when we meet people. When uneasiness is present there is generally some core reason but we tend to ignore these things for whatever reason. It’s important to at least follow through on your gut response. This doesn’t mean accusing people wrongly or gossiping, but rather encourages simple steps to screen or monitor situations involving children and young people. This is when you would ask for a background check or research history, and review resumes.

We need to learn to not only see the warning signs but also communicate our concerns in a productive and efficient way.

. https://www.virtusonline.org/virtus/

Darkness to light is another organization that I have found that offers a five-step prevention key. It is printable! I have one laminated and taped to my refrigerator and plan to keep a stack in my car. I know it sounds like a small gesture but if more people had this little handout, more people will know what to do in a crisis situation lie this that none of us want to believe we are a part of, but the truth is we are all a part of this, because for better or worse, no matter what your beliefs are,

They are all of our children. All of them.

 

 

http://www.d2l.org/site/c.4dICIJOkGcISE/b.6178667/k.93BF/Learn_the_Facts_of_Child_Sexual_Abuse.htm

 

Learn the Facts of Child Sexual Abuse

 

 

Realities, Not Trust, Should Influence Your Decisions Regarding Children "We live in a beautiful, safe neighborhood. None of these children could be victims of sexual abuse, right?"   It is highly likely that you know a child who has been or is being abused. Experts estimate that 1 in 10 children are sexually abused before their 18th birthday. This means that in any classroom or neighborhood full of children, there are children who are silently bearing the burden of sexual abuse. Youth are 2.5 times more likely to be raped than adults. About 35% of victims are 11 years old or younger. 9% of 10 to 17-year-olds receive a sexual request while on the Internet. 30% of children are abused by family members. As many as 60% are abused by people the family trusts. Nearly 40% are abused by older or larger children. Over 90% of children who are commercially sexually exploited have a history of child sexual abuse About 75% of child pornography victims are living at home when they are photographed. Parents are often responsible. http://www.d2l.org/site/c.4dICIJOkGcISE/b.6178667/k.93BF/Learn_the_Facts_of_Child_Sexual_Abuse.htm

 

 

Shakubuku

    

Shame turns to anger inside me faster than blood can race through capillaries and fill my face.

Especially when I am not expecting it. But even when I am in company that I am fully aware of as “ not safe” the second my head bows down a huge swell of anger snaps it back up like a rubber band. And not those wimpy ones that hold together the thin stems of store bought flowers. We’re talking double wide industrial office strength, or the ones they use for Broccoli, the big guns. SNAP!

I love that image because I see myself suddenly as a heroine in a black and white, no full color comic strip shedding my homely costume and stomping forth in a skimpy but very tasteful and down right flattering swim suit type outfit! My hair flowing and my eyes on fire I step out of my quiet frame and punch a hole through anyone and anything that tries to quiet my voice!!!

It’s a fun moment. However there is one little thing that people seem to so readily forget. That warrior princess is fueled by something. It’s anger.

 It’s true that sometimes it comes in the vigilante form of vengeance or defending ones honor, standing up for ones rights, even dignity but the core of it is anger, and anger is pain.

Pain hurts.

It is a signal that change is the next indicated step and the one that is most effective in order to continue forward.

That can mean large or small things and as much as I am an advocate of feeling your feelings, sometimes we need to do a little digging, a little listening to that pain to find out why things sting so badly every time.

I don’t think pain is a bad thing. My relationship with it has evolved over the years and I now see it as an elegant indicator that I may not have ALL the answers. It keeps me humble. It keeps me open-minded. Shit I actually use it as kind of a life “ Bumper” Like the ones in bowling alleys that keep the ball on the lane so you can have half a chance of knocking down at least one pin??

When it comes up now, I look inside myself and get honest about what the message truly is. Where do I need to slightly adjust? Have I strayed out of my bowling lane?  Half the time I am reacting to something that happened years ago and am not even present in the current moment at all.

I feel as a woman this kind of defensive pain is important. It seems so common. This is when I feel my prowess as a female. My power. The power of creation, intuition, healing, nurturing, life giving, life sustaining are all inside of me.  All of my strength feeds into my own very female heart and then pours back out into everything I do and everyone I love.

 I have heard and read and spoken to so many women that describe some sort of scenario where shame and pain are so intertwined its almost like they cant exist without each other. Like its one thing and compartmentalizing has become a distant idea. Something almost intangible and so far out of reach that we just adapt.

 I am a woman who loves being a woman. I was literally born to be one!! I love saying that because it’s more relatable to more people than one would think these days.

 I think a lot of women feel similar. Most women can relate to that sense of being angry in the defensive, new animal hybrid way. We don’t even know we are in pain until we are bleeding because we have lost the ability to see the anger/pain for what it is. An indication that it may be time to prune the roses (notice I didn’t use the word bush? Well I’m trying to make a point so stop goofing off ok??).

When you think of how a rose bush ;) gets pruned or what it looks like right after, it is almost hard to see how there could ever be any sense to it. The stems are bare and jagged; the sap is dripping from the cuts. The whole plant looks like it is just a dead weed. But in actuality it has been saved, given longevity. And we know how it looks after some time has past. Beautiful and renewed. Different but the same. Elevated.

Women need this same pruning. Men and woman need it alike but I am speaking specifically to the place in myself, as a woman that returns again and again to shame.

I think sometimes even if I discard or cut away the parts of me that do not serve me they grow back within the beauty and reveal themselves in different ways. Just like the shame and anger intertwine so do the pain and the healing.

I believe we as woman should continually seek within and tend that garden knowing full well that it will need to be pruned, listened to, heard and helped. That the pestilence we once thought could be eradicated is actually necessary nourishment for our continued growth and strength.  All you need is faith that your perspective is fluid. And it is.

So go ahead goddesses. Find yourselves in those superhero negligees in your minds. Image the most beautiful form of yourself that you can muster and you and her go in to the garden of your soul and see what it is you are fighting for. I can only imagine those adventures will be extraordinary.

How to be a satellite.

We came home a couple days ago. I decided to go back the way we came and leave the Grand Canyon for another time. It really felt like the kind of thing you set out to do rather than the last leg of the trip. I want to savor it, but honestly something strong told me not to go that way. I knew before we even arrived in Aspen that we wouldn’t drive through Arizona and that I needed to re-route our trip back. It was like an ominous whispering from my deepest point of intuition. I have learned after many years of blindly neglecting these powerful gifts never to ignore them again.

 Also, the spontaneity of being able to change your plans last minute is so liberating I couldn’t really stop doing it! I fell completely in love with waking up at five am and hitting the road. I would walk the dog at dawn, only slightly concerned about early morning encounters with large animals, then unplug my rig and hit the road. My girls would be tucked in bed and slumbering away for hours before they would wake up and join me.

Listening to music quietly and feeling so involved in the morning scenes that unfolded in front of me became cathartic solitary moments of bliss. It reminded me of when I am out in nature hiking and I can’t wipe the grin off my face because I feel so at ease.

After a breathtaking day in Moab and a lovely, rainy evening camping in Red Cliffs Canyon we made a group decision to drive home a day early just because we could!  We were done camping for the moment and excited at the idea of our cozy home and family and friends. The lovely solitude of nature with all of its treasures is perfect for me but I know that if I push it for too long my children will eventually resist it.

We all loved coming home and when I look at my sweet smelling dark wooded house with all of my style and taste I always feel so unbelievably lucky. It really is such a wonderful place to come home to with all its warm familiarity.

       I’m a bit travel weary because lets face it, driving for nine hours in a regular car is exhausting but driving in a RV packs a bit more of a punch. Dropping down through Vegas with all the wind blowing the rig all over the highway for hours had my nerves totally fried, not to mention my shoulders ached and my arms throbbed.

I know that this kind of trip is easier with more than one adult. But I was tired of waiting and I don’t like to tell myself that I can’t do things, especially things that I dream about doing.

Still, the night after I dropped off my little mobile home and our adventure was truly at a close I couldn’t help but miss my Rig.  I’m definitely not interested in owning an RV, but there was something about the way it made me feel, pulling into gas stations and checking the oil and the gages on the propane tanks and generators. I felt powerful and liberated.  I was outside of societal expectation for two weeks and all I needed was a horizon. I still need a horizon but for now I am happy with the one that I can see from my front yard.

 

The rise and fall of the camp thief.

I decided to go with the flow once we got to our Bryce Canyon campsite and take a bus tour up into Bryce canyon. This way my girls could hear some fun facts about the area and I wouldn’t have to unplug the rig and lumber up the mountain for more driving. I am not a “joiner” so this was a very inspired idea and I almost dedicated it to my dearest Gramps who recently passed.

The sound of the tour guides voice was similar to someone that had been taking copious amounts of medications. He had a very dry sounding palate and he enunciated his words very slowly. Also, as far as I could tell he never seemed to take a breath other than when he would clear his throat very loudly into his microphone. The tour consisted of a drive to the top of the canyon to a viewpoint and then several stops back down at well, more viewpoints. By the end of the three hour tour my girls and I had lost our excitement and wonder over the Hulus and rocky crags.

   We did pick up a few interesting tidbits of information though such as:  if you stick your nose “ into a deep crevice of a ponderosa pine” You will smell vanilla.  I know. The awkwardness alone hearing this come out of the mouth of our aged and long-winded driver was almost more than I could bear. I’m ashamed to say that despite how inappropriate the other tourists looked sticking their eager faces into these unsuspecting pine “cracks ” I eventually succumbed to curiosity…. it is indeed true. The smell is almost like cupcakes. Fun fact.

When we got back into town we decided to bike over and get an ice cream. That is when I noticed to my shock that my credit cards were all missing from my wallet.

I went through all the phases of shock, disbelief, fear then anger in about ten seconds. I looked at my girls happily eating their ice cream. They had no idea what this meant. In that moment my mind was flooded and all I could think was that we could be stuck! HERE in this place! As much as I loved camp life, one of the best parts about it was the wonderful ability to escape whenever we wanted!!

 Without credit cards how could we travel? How could we get gas? I only had a little cash with me. The blood was draining from my head as I called my credit card companies but I ended up hanging up on the woman after she started to explain the exciting current sales and services this particular card was offering!

I looked at my girls and told them the truth. It was the three of us out here and I needed them to know the real deal. No more protecting for the sake of keeping a stiff upper lip. For the moment we were in crisis mode.

We needed to abandon the ice cream and deal with the situation so, we biked back to the RV park and got in touch with the sheriffs department. My cards had been taken on the tour we had been on. There was one point where the guide had told us to leave our belongings on board for a quick viewpoint. It wasn’t more than five minutes but this was the only time my wallet was away from me.

When I got back to my RV I realized that I DID have a checkbook and my license with me which meant we were ok to travel but I still felt like crying. So I did. And so did my girls. We sat there under the cupcake smelling ponderosas and cried together that someone took our things. Of course I reassured them that we were safe and we had what we needed to continue our trip but I also told them that it was Ok for us to be upset. I felt pretty good about the fact that my girls were able to see me break down and then recover and before long we were all laughing about the whole bizarre day. The Sheriff arrived and had all three of my cards, which he found, on the floor of the bus. Whoever had taken them out of my bag had obviously decided to abandon the plan. Thank God. We went for a swim and planned to leave the campground the next morning. After we had packed up all of our things and were settling in for the night a big storm passed over us letting out thunder and rain. Sitting in our little tin home and hearing the loud drops of rain seemed to wash away any bad feelings and we all slept soundly through the cool night under the aligned planets.

The next morning I awoke with the dawn and drove straight through to Aspen. I felt like a hero driving my sleeping children through the desert onward to the mountains.

 

Day 2

Last night was the third night in the RV and just this morning I have finally started feeling like I am getting the hang of things. That basically means I know where the peanut butter is. My girls are starting to draw and talk rather than choose the iPods. We get to have a campfire tonight for the first time. Utah is definitely our friend.  The temp through Nevada was unreal. It was never less than 109 even at night. We couldn’t hear over the air conditioner and there was nowhere to go. We tried for a bike ride in Sand hollow which I’m glad we did because it made me call Bryce Canyon and get us into an overflow spot just for the night. We had to get out of there!! My dog couldn’t even walk, the ground was so hot and full of burrs. Such a trapped feeling!!

Also, how do they keep that place (Sand hollow) Going with a horrible parasite in the water that leaves anyone who goes in with a burning itchy spotted rash?! There was no way we were going in!! They even sold Tee shirts that said “ I Got Swimmers Itch!!”. How about NO. I will say though that everyone we encountered in that place was very friendly and kind. I just count imagine staying for more than a few hours and if given the chance again I will skip it for sure.

The feeling of pulling up stakes and heading out of there was so liberating!! I will never forget that moment. We were all giddy.  Having this mobility is a blast. I love the freedom. You just need a map and a phone, and some wifi access and food and water and hook ups and motor oil and rest stops and lots of high quality gasoline and chocolate and maybe a tazer and towels and toilet paper and soap and chapstick. thats all!!!

By the time we were three quarters of the way to Bryce I was kicking it into 3^rd gear and tow mode down the steep grades and riding it at 35mph without even touching the breaks. I’m like a pro at this now!!

Oh and all of this with a nasty summer cold!! Mornings of mucous and stopping at gas stations to buy boxes of Kleenex!

I’m looking forward to setting out our camp chairs and rolling out the awning (not really looking forward to that part) The awning that took thirty minutes of explanation in a thick east Indian accent warning all the while what an expense it would be to be if it were to get damaged.

Still, I cant wait to get a shot of our lux little set up all cozy and cute and then head out into the wilderness to check out Bryce Canyon!!!

DAY 1

It’s Five am on the first morning. I didn’t sleep at all last night due to the caffeine drink I foolishly consumed after 4pm when I was only just headed back to my house to load up our RV. It was my first time driving it and I wanted to be extra sharp. Seemed like a good idea at the time. I say that a lot.

As I type I notice that I only broke four out of ten nails on my first day so that must be some kind of a record!

Going back to the drive from the RV place home to load up. I ran late getting to the dealership but once I got there the explanation of what to do with this Rig took over an hour which I did not anticipate. The more the east Indian gentleman went on the more I realized that there was no way anyone could remember all of these details and that I would mainly be relying upon the user manual which I hoped was fairly easy to go over. I also had to stop myself from bobbing my head to the right and left as all of the East Indian people did when I visited Hyderabad years ago. It was an unusual characteristic and it fascinated me to the point of hypnotic rudeness. I’m not sure if I bobbed or not.

Thank Goodness I learned during my Doula training that just like birth, LIFE is not a script to be followed but merely a road with signs of course, guidelines along the way to heed or, well, choose to ignore (caffeine).

As we finally made our way on the 210 towards Big Bear I had tears in my eyes because I realized that basically all of my dreams are coming true. I have wanted, no, Dreamt of doing a trip like this since I was a little girl. I am doing it.  I have two beautiful children. I am in love with a wonderful man with a powerfully good soul. The tears streamed down my cheeks as the Sun set behind us and I realized that it is all because of the support and love of my family and of course my Sobriety, which I am so in love with. These things remind me how connected to source I am. To God.

Speaking of God, there is nothing I dislike more at the moment than twisty mountain roads in the dark!!! Also why was it that even though I was going a terrifying 40MPH on these black and winding roads there needed to be fifty cars behind me all of which apparently had a woman in labor inside needing to be RUSHED through the mountains???? It was ten pm by the time we made it to our site and I plugged us in and we went to bed so I could lay awake ALL night thinking about my Daughter at sleep away camp, my handsome boyfriend and all of the things I needed to do the next day to get us to the next spot before ten pm so I could eat food and get some sleep!!!  Oh and I was also thinking about how I would be getting used to flushing out the BLACK TANK. So many things to look forward to in a dreadful and wonderful way??  First day stuff. I feel fantastic!!!