tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48966291338450697172024-03-05T02:04:51.146-08:00How Mama Got Her Groove BackTriciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.comBlogger53125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-64560627081128198582012-10-30T18:51:00.000-07:002012-10-30T18:51:10.559-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilC0zmMWbjC5prwpibZgIavYAvFPm3lB7nygc2mu54jbbCTe2M-JaQTLOdkWCF7Gnj5vq5OScsQT170iTvh2dn-V1DiBVPAOcjs-LNcmz2t6Bp0raZSuxICDlbVfT8XlFqMLwy3kIUO47s/s1600/scan0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilC0zmMWbjC5prwpibZgIavYAvFPm3lB7nygc2mu54jbbCTe2M-JaQTLOdkWCF7Gnj5vq5OScsQT170iTvh2dn-V1DiBVPAOcjs-LNcmz2t6Bp0raZSuxICDlbVfT8XlFqMLwy3kIUO47s/s320/scan0004.jpg" width="287" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #274e13;">This picture was drawn by Lola.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;">I think she had ireland on the brain when she drew it.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;">I have been thinking more and more about walking the ancient hills of my ancestors.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;">I am slowly starting to inquire about my bloodline there.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;">I am also very excited about inviting archangel Michael to join me in this journey.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;">The month of October was one of intense illness here at our home.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;">Lola contracted a wicked ass kicking case of whooping cough.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;">The poor thing coughed until her eyes bled and they were black and blue from the strain.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;">The cough was a horrible, possessive, turn you inside out, gut wretching, vomit inducing mega hard hitter, take your breath away invasion.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;">She suffered immensly. It was horrible to witness. We slept in a make-shift triage room in the bathroom for over two weeks. At first every hour she was awakened by a coughing attack. then eventually it was every two hours then three times or so a night. We were recently able to move back into a bed but still wake a couple of times each night to cough up phlem. Well, Lola coughs, I support her. It is such a scary cough.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;">And so, with the month of october coming to an end so does our month of quarantine. We are fit for public outings again. Just in time for...Hallowe'en. great. </span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;">Unfortunately this year I will be at school Hallowe'en night. I missed last week with Chloe in hospital and Lola still sick. It is hard to get caught up when each class is three hours.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;">Plus I am learning that my imagination isn't what I thought it was. Writing a story based on a prompt or idea that doesn't resinate with me is crazy hard....can't really get the creative juices flowing. I think I've lost some of the art of bullshitting. bummer.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;">Anyhow...since I am having trouble with my writing asignment I thought I'd pop on here...this neglected space...and just write.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;">amen,</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;">and a little women, Tricia</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"></span>Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-82711171463499238912012-06-06T11:48:00.003-07:002012-06-07T08:47:46.186-07:00Amma Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk8VifsTCbESYKkiItkqdLAZG2z3uIWHpgYkXThS7r0-A-wVgaVk8QzhhAeR2nEsetwwkY7w1KBrK7wLzzVLinef4pJ0HsZBObZz4X_I_4EtAWfZWwys1xlRTcyXBDcHA_oT7HiZL2Jasf/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk8VifsTCbESYKkiItkqdLAZG2z3uIWHpgYkXThS7r0-A-wVgaVk8QzhhAeR2nEsetwwkY7w1KBrK7wLzzVLinef4pJ0HsZBObZz4X_I_4EtAWfZWwys1xlRTcyXBDcHA_oT7HiZL2Jasf/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #660000;">Amma : means "mother" in many languages</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #e69138;">bliss : complete happiness</span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"> paradise, heaven</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">ecstasy: a state of being beyond reason and self-control</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> a state of overwhelming emotion;especially rapturios delight</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;">joy : the emotion evoked by well being, success, or good fortune</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #674ea7;">grace : unmerited divine assistance given for humans for their </span><br />
<span style="color: #674ea7;"> regeneration or sanctification</span><br />
<span style="color: #674ea7;"> a virtue coming from God</span><br />
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Universal Consciousness : undefined in the dictionary<br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">My daughter, my daughter, my daughter, my daughter, my daughter the words whispered in my ear in sanskrit and english over and over again and again as I breathed in the etheral smell of roses and was rocked in her arms.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">The Divine Mother, the Cosmic Presence, Grace Embodied, the Self-Realised Guru, Amma, oh my Amma.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">There are no words to express the state of peace and love that permeates every cell of every body graced with her presence. The vibration of love and compassion truly reaches an ecstatic state.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">In her eyes you witnesss the universe expanding, your heart expanding, compassion towards everything and everyone expanding,love expanding.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">Awe is everywhere.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">You are experiencing miracles. You will never be the same.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">Peace is felt. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">Words are not needed. Smiles are abundant. There is no suffering in her presence.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">Transformations take place before your humble human eyes.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">As she stands before us on the stage, the makeshift temple , she scans the crowd. Her eyes touch and speak to each individual. Her eyes reach into your soul and they murmur in soft resounding whisperings "I love you" You are my child. Fear nothing and know that I am with you. I am you and you are me. You are never alone.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">And then she showers us with petals. Annoints us with glorious blessings. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">Jai! Jai! Jai!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">Amma, oh my Amma.</span><br />
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<br />Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-60335397707020049782010-12-09T08:26:00.000-08:002010-12-09T08:56:08.204-08:00Procrastination<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvLv5eJsQG8pItAwbv-JXZ1P2NijFloldn-yAfo36WwqMcVYSN_H8PQKA380I4lXoHs4nGcwgi4XhCusvnktT3OqyMMFoyD8iFTAnmEmP_zeL1TH-pU3zDhoiUAhAvMUQryk-ABCMS8nCx/s1600/imagesCAMTFS42.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 225px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 225px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548727248852870082" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvLv5eJsQG8pItAwbv-JXZ1P2NijFloldn-yAfo36WwqMcVYSN_H8PQKA380I4lXoHs4nGcwgi4XhCusvnktT3OqyMMFoyD8iFTAnmEmP_zeL1TH-pU3zDhoiUAhAvMUQryk-ABCMS8nCx/s400/imagesCAMTFS42.jpg" /></a><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;">Procrastination. noun</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;">Procrastinate : verb: to put off intentionally and habitually</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;">Ouch...intentionally and habitually....and it's an action word...not a person, place or thing....an action...</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;">I joke a fair bit about procrastination paying off. For example, since I didn't deliver more than two Christmas presents last year, when a friends birthday rolled around in the spring and I was caught unaware I just took the gift out of the christmas bag and gave her her christmas gift for her birthday. I actually felt surprisingly prepared. </span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;">This year as Christmas approaches I still have some gifts wrapped from last year and a few cards filled out too. We'll see if they get delivered <em>this </em>year or if they remain in the bag for one more year.</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;">Sometimes if you procrastinate long enough, someone else will do "it" for you. I am starting to wonder if that is always a good thing? It could also mean that someone else will do "it" <strong>before </strong>you. And that is when I find myself kicking myself.</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;">Procrastination seems to be a theme for me. A pattern. A motto. A trademark. A story I keep telling myself.</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;">I am definitely not an over-achiever. A go-getter. A shark. </span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;">I pull my weight though. I'm not a total slacker.</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;">I guess I can see how the movers and the shakers get sh<em>it</em> done and how getting things done ( and done well) is a good thing. And I have a few things that I need to get done.</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;">This doesn't mean you'll be getting that christmas present I have wrapped for you in my closet <em>this </em>year. But next year....watch out!</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;">love Tricia</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000099;"></span></div>Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-25385188907851170512010-10-21T22:57:00.000-07:002010-10-21T23:17:53.810-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8LzcdzbAliDyW_dE5hDNJSkU6vNRpbkt76eEmfA2HKN_f3NgD16hB1k3-ravRP6vdjra7QEvfkX-50oXwNji3ZI2FJOZm5Oa_fRyt8RK3mTk9K-p3w5wFwbgqpLxZnoTPQKljyKWADabC/s1600/untitled.bmp"><span style="color:#000099;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 134px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 207px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530746372395112418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8LzcdzbAliDyW_dE5hDNJSkU6vNRpbkt76eEmfA2HKN_f3NgD16hB1k3-ravRP6vdjra7QEvfkX-50oXwNji3ZI2FJOZm5Oa_fRyt8RK3mTk9K-p3w5wFwbgqpLxZnoTPQKljyKWADabC/s400/untitled.bmp" /></span></a><span style="color:#000099;"> Wabi sabi.........a term I heard with ethusiams from my good friend S. And then mentioned again today as a life saving article for my friend L. </span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Wabi sabi...embracing imperfections. Big Sigh. Yes! A word, a philosophy, yes, a philosophy, a train of thought, a shared idea embracing imperfection.....embracing...No...Celebrating the cracks in life.</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Who couldn't, who can't , who wouldn't want to embrace, hug, squeeze the livin daylights out of a philosophy that rewards, celebrates, appreciates our faults.</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Balance...alot of the conmmunication I am receiving from the Source latley has been encompassed in a mesage stressing balance....balance and duality.....appreciating both the light and the dark. For is the dark not necessary to see the light?</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Moment by moment, i am reassured that i am closer if not bang on the path that is calling to me.</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">In yoga this is darhma, what one is meant to do. Life's purpose. </span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Constant moments of reassurance lately that i am where i am meant to be... but how could I or you be anywhere else?</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">We are all exactly where we are meant to be along the path at each moment.</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">I thought going to see Po'Girl live at a small private venue would be enough creative juice to get back to writing but no, it was showing up at a yoga workshop that i knew I wanted to be at even though I had no real idea what it was about....it was showing up for that that reinforced my place among the stars.</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Thank-you to those of you who walk this earth and reside within their own centres....for you i am grateful...for you I look to mimic in hopes of walking this earth from my own centre....</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Thank you for wabi sabi...thank you for the gift of seeing perfection in imperfection...for relishing the flaws and knowing that they are so so necessary for growth....for loving the stretching even though there may be growing pains...thank-you.</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Wabi-sabi........yes. Thank-you.</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">In gratitude, Tricia<br /></span>Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-12101222291724827822010-10-04T09:16:00.001-07:002010-10-04T11:52:50.705-07:00Re:Surfacing<strong><span style="color:#006600;"></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpnpD0NFCFh9lxAnJABgmmA-sZNTZzre-Bw-Ae3kYOJZw9oaUlQsFD-hTRtA-U-oCkEGhn3zLEUPAmDb5Zc-vHWx3c-ODdHABYPxpHWXG6qHew9ZGqalRpNtHXTfUKrAkcFEQfmtd7zPO3/s1600/Mystery%2520Tree%2520corrected.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 223px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 275px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524225826587830802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpnpD0NFCFh9lxAnJABgmmA-sZNTZzre-Bw-Ae3kYOJZw9oaUlQsFD-hTRtA-U-oCkEGhn3zLEUPAmDb5Zc-vHWx3c-ODdHABYPxpHWXG6qHew9ZGqalRpNtHXTfUKrAkcFEQfmtd7zPO3/s400/Mystery%2520Tree%2520corrected.jpg" /></a> <strong><span style="color:#990000;">Well....Here I am again.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="color:#990000;">Did you miss me?</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="color:#990000;">Did you notice this empty space?</span></strong><br /><br /><p><strong><span style="color:#990000;"></span></strong></p><br /><p><strong><span style="color:#990000;">Do you want a recap or should we just move forward? From right here, the right now, this most recent moment in time/space?</span></strong></p><br /><p><strong><span style="color:#990000;">I think I will share with you some of the journeys that took place but not today...we'll save that for another post (or two) altogether.</span></strong></p><br /><p><strong><span style="color:#993300;">My most recent adventures include a weekend that just wrapped up of intiation into the world of shamanism. </span></strong></p><br /><p><strong><span style="color:#993300;">Does that word immediately conjure images in your mind ? Do you hear that word and feel yourself tense up anywhere or do you feel your eyebrows raising?</span></strong></p><br /><p><strong><span style="color:#993300;">I think the word holds alot of energy and attached meanings to different people depending on your upbringing and experiences in the world thus far.</span></strong></p><br /><p><strong><span style="color:#993300;">I have to admit, I was skeptical of those who called themself "Shaman". Kinda like how anyone can ordain themselves online and suddenly be a Minister of any church they invented. I thought "Where's the authenticity?" You can't just choose to be a shaman...you have to have been chosen or born into the position. </span></strong></p><br /><p><strong><span style="color:#993300;">But what if we change the word "shaman" and call it practicing the "Art of Shamism"....now we are getting closer I think.</span></strong></p><br /><p><strong><span style="color:#006600;">I have always craved a "teacher". A "guru". A "guide". </span></strong></p><br /><p><strong><span style="color:#006600;">There are things I know about myself and so much more that I don't know BUT my desire to work one on one with a spiritual companion has been strong since childhood.</span></strong></p><br /><p><strong><span style="color:#006600;">Raised in the Catholic tradition I sought comfort and companionship in my statue of the virgin Mary. She was protector at night and she was who I prayed to when I prayed. </span></strong></p><br /><p><strong><span style="color:#006600;">I was critical of my Catholic upbring early on...I hated the hypocrisy, judged the faith for building grand churches and not giving enough to the poor. The pomp and circumstance disgusted me rather than strengthen my faith. I was young mind you and interpreting this through a child's eye but I couldn't relate to what was going on and my journey to find something that resonated began.</span></strong></p><strong><span style="color:#006600;">Now, don't misinterpret my misgivings about the church....I have reconciled my differences and find peace in many of the traditions and pagan origins of the catholic faith.</span></strong><br /><br /><br /><p><strong><span style="color:#006600;"></span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color:#993399;">So now, I think I may explore my celtic heritage. It is a rich culture steeped in myth and magic and lore and has called to me for some time but I am yet to claim it.</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color:#993399;">The term for my new adventure will be "domestic shamanism". Yes, balancing family life with spiritual pursuits....</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color:#993399;">Journeying with ancestors amongst or between the dirty dishes and piles of laundry.</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color:#993399;">In peace, Tricia</span></strong></p><br /><br /><p></p>Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-6087957414917637832010-07-02T09:56:00.000-07:002010-07-02T10:18:03.090-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV5Ih5N4lMo1nyo_YH_ou_4yIzGVo6ZxAh6bkTqeFwyw0D727D9zIO_-obmVCHmKoho7tjZfM4uS8hgceR7eGFgko7frF1PpCQB8zmPZtPW6vHTjHhUQgMi9g1RAgyVg1FeguWZZPv9qs6/s1600/Chodron.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 255px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 508px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489353920406381394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV5Ih5N4lMo1nyo_YH_ou_4yIzGVo6ZxAh6bkTqeFwyw0D727D9zIO_-obmVCHmKoho7tjZfM4uS8hgceR7eGFgko7frF1PpCQB8zmPZtPW6vHTjHhUQgMi9g1RAgyVg1FeguWZZPv9qs6/s400/Chodron.JPG" /></a> <span style="color:#663300;">Oh man, I lost my groove. I'll find it again, I always do. But, here's the but...my groove is that i do loose my groove.</span><br /><p><span style="color:#663300;"></span> </p><p><span style="color:#663300;">Definition of groove : (noun)1. a long narrow tunnel</span></p><p><span style="color:#663300;"> 2. any channel or rut cut or worn in a surface</span></p><p><span style="color:#663300;"> 3. a habitual way of doing something; settled routine</span></p><p><span style="color:#663300;"> ( verb )1. to take great pleasure or satisfaction</span></p><p><span style="color:#663300;"> to enjoy oneself</span></p><p><span style="color:#663300;"> to be affected with pleasurable excitement</span></p><p><span style="color:#663300;"> 2. to react or interact harmoniously</span></p><p><span style="color:#663300;">Since I totally suck when it comes to routine, I think I prefer to view the word "groove" as a verb. I definitely lost my "groove" the past few weeks. The end of the school year</span> <span style="color:#663300;"> ... which didn't end soon enough. And the end of our so-called 'routine"...a quick trip to Vancouver thrown in there...a few illnesses throughout the family...the onset of summer, only drippy and soggy and cloudy and the beginning of a full time wear me out, break me down job at the liquor store.</span></p><p><span style="color:#663300;">Yes, my groove will be temporarily interrupted as the new summer groove falls into place. Most people look forward to the easy, breezy, relaxed, sun, sand and salads of summer but for me it is a stressful dance to balance childcare, a full time job, friends and family....</span></p><p><span style="color:#663300;">So, my new groove will allow waaay less time here. Boo.</span></p><p><span style="color:#663300;">Always reminding myself to be gentle...this too shall pass. Embrace the now.</span></p><p><span style="color:#663300;"></span> </p><p><span style="color:#663300;">Peace out, Tricia</span></p><p><span style="color:#663300;"> </span></p><p><span style="color:#663300;"></span> </p><p><span style="color:#663300;"></span> </p>Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-74572040346560959312010-06-21T15:31:00.000-07:002010-06-21T15:50:29.297-07:00Happy Solstice<span style="color:#663366;"></span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 135px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 143px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485361645442352018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiYIq3k8uXeZoBm3sZxzqnbeVV4xgLNaTlAElGgEZyc02DaarSoGiJNkC-N0Fc82hG_AiddMOoiW1De72x8jt8iozdiP8mgOq44wp7Bq62vfxN2nCjKeMyL8XgboxzyyyDR56GypNbRDni/s400/imagesCAZ2MHV0.jpg" /><br /><div><span style="color:#663366;">Night-time stars and bonfires bright</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#663366;">Families and friends sing on good St. John's Night</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#663366;">Summer sun, the sweet smell of hay,</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#663366;">And children all dancing on Midsummer Day.</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#663366;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#663366;">At Midsummer time the fairies come out,</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#663366;">If children could see them with glee they would shout!</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#663366;">On Midsummer's Eve even gnomes try to dance,</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#663366;">In fairy-ring revels they awkwardly prance.</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#663366;">On Midsummer Day elves and fairies all fly</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#663366;">From acorns and buttercups up to the sky.</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#663366;"></span></div> ~Mala Powers<br /><div><span style="color:#663366;"></span> </div><div><span style="color:#663366;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#663366;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#663366;">May the warm summer sun shine upon you.</span></div><div> </div><div></div><div><span style="color:#663366;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#663366;">Blessings, Tricia</span></div>Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-62890063790722010932010-06-18T07:59:00.000-07:002010-06-18T08:04:52.505-07:00The Last Wild Witch<p><object style="BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://i3.ytimg.com/vi/Z3ROPNDyqQQ/hqdefault.jpg)" width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z3ROPNDyqQQ&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z3ROPNDyqQQ&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="480" height="295" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object></p><p><span style="color:#009900;">Isn't this a lovely story with incredible illustrations?</span></p><p><span style="color:#009900;">Ok, it has been almost entirely a youtube week....no time to sit and contemplate.</span></p><p><span style="color:#009900;">No time to be still and quiet while sitting in front of the computer.</span></p><p><span style="color:#009900;">And it's friday already...which is more like my tuesday cause i worked last night, again tonight and on saturday.</span></p><p><span style="color:#009900;">Weekends don't feel like weekends when you are working them. Mabe I will get lucky and get called in for a day shift on sat and still make it to the bbq....that would be nice....</span></p><p><span style="color:#009900;"></span> </p><p><span style="color:#009900;">with love, Tricia</span></p>Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-26485446341538488782010-06-16T08:37:00.000-07:002010-06-17T07:30:40.538-07:00Mother's Blessing_Snatam Kaur<p><br /><object style="BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://i3.ytimg.com/vi/nobyWAwwhs8/hqdefault.jpg)" width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nobyWAwwhs8&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nobyWAwwhs8&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="425" height="344" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object></p><br /><p><span style="color:#003300;">For all the Mammas listening.</span></p><br /><p><span style="color:#003300;">Beautiful.</span></p><br /><p><span style="color:#003300;">with love, Tricia</span></p>Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-49151319388566121612010-06-16T08:27:00.000-07:002010-06-16T08:30:55.445-07:00Universal Mother - Ancient Chants, Blissful Grooves<p><object style="BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://i1.ytimg.com/vi/HDhDmsWVieA/hqdefault.jpg)" width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HDhDmsWVieA&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HDhDmsWVieA&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="425" height="344" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object></p><p><span style="color:#cc0000;">Just a few minutes here to remind myself that we are all connected to the Universal Mother. That we are all embodiments of the Goddess and the Sacred Feminine. Reflections of the Divine.</span></p><p><span style="color:#cc0000;">peace, Tricia</span></p>Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-66357103870726867522010-06-15T10:28:00.001-07:002010-06-15T10:28:38.547-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8TJ1iM52FidUv9t67i8tOlciDUM7vX_HqLIXjuhQdVu29Qb1NRkpgAYrLZuyFA3fMkCPLhz8otpTpZdXtjGeNyI3l8re7EgbwBU5V-r6YWlibZct20R5Slqokj84dJEX8MMPxMPTwniM8/s1600/entrainment_chart.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 304px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8TJ1iM52FidUv9t67i8tOlciDUM7vX_HqLIXjuhQdVu29Qb1NRkpgAYrLZuyFA3fMkCPLhz8otpTpZdXtjGeNyI3l8re7EgbwBU5V-r6YWlibZct20R5Slqokj84dJEX8MMPxMPTwniM8/s400/entrainment_chart.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482663527978912290" /></a><br />Sometimes you <em>know</em> without a doubt that you are<em> exactly</em> where you are suppose to be.<br /><br /><br /><br />I had that intense affirmation as I sat amongst a drum circle, a visitor within a community, happily anticipating what was in store for the evening.<br /><br /><br /><br />The "teacher" was a kind, compassionate, forgiving soul with a passion for music. Those who have sat next to me in a singing circle or who have recovered drums from my hands and replaced them with shakers, know that I am rhythmically challenged. That acknowledged I was a bit nervous about the "voice toning" aspect of the evening, that is, until we actually began the evening. All trepidation dissolved. Once again I was in the presence of a "teacher" who believed in the process and finding joy in the process, in taking the risk to try, in the journey not the destination.<br /><br /><br /><br />He started out the evening getting everybody to stand and just step from one foot to the other until the whole room was entrained in this movement. That was the first sign, this was how my initial birthing From Within workshop got started as well. Entrainment is a powerful thing. Basically, getting into the same rhythm...the same current....it's chemistry, it's biology, it's nature. It's being pulled by the strongest force in the room....thus the relevance to birth. For a woman-centred birth she must be allowed to be the strongest force in the room around which everyone else becomes entrained. This must be taught in our culture today otherwise the caregiver (doctor/midwife) will be the strongest force around which the rest of the room becomes entrained. So there we were, stepping from side to side and you could feel the current, the energy, the pulse in the room. Then he added some sound (at which point the thinking brain steps in and it is harder to stay entrained unless you can shut off the thinking brain and resort back to instinct (again, like birth)) and from there the night was wonderful.<br /><br />He talked about the cycles in music, in life, and how everything is just one big cyclical event and i was thinking how this might be a profound thought to some people but how in tune woman are or can be to these cycles because we are forced to live them whether we acknowledge that or not. It's one of the things that bothers me about our culture regarding menstruation and the pill and all the effort to make cycles shorter or non-existant....we loose touch with out natural rhythm and in doing so fail to see or feel the connection to nature, to the Mother Nature, to Mother Earth. It's so sad in many ways. But anyhow, I was there, listening and thinking about all the beautiful women in my life who honour their connection to cycles.<br /><br />And then the chanting was so powerful for me in the moment that as I have said it moved me to tears. I knew I was where i was suppose to be. And I was so in the moment. That's what I love about chanting . Especially sanskrit, which means nothing to me but carries it's own energy just by the vibration the sound creates. Abnd everything else dissolves into<em> that </em>moment. Big sigh.<br /><br />Empty your lungs. Let all your breathe out. Push it all the way out of your lungs.<br /><br />Deep breathe in. Up through the diaghram, up through the chest, up, up, up and bog breathe out.<br /><br />Synchronicity. Simple. Beautiful. It happens.<br /><br />with love, TriciaTriciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-24229092193613592642010-06-12T08:33:00.000-07:002010-06-14T08:08:00.233-07:00Need I Say More<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcGxSWrDcvxURnXevroFDKrSTM_Ddb6ggpObJoWblWNs4t8nUE8A3GNtGNAU2hqXmrz_PNSEEgllYdlLSLA8QBuJqLij61jGCsnlMbHs9JhL8KgNbFzX7STvywEM3blhFGAZOB45Ig5oVC/s1600/Poster_Friend_m.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481911918798990866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcGxSWrDcvxURnXevroFDKrSTM_Ddb6ggpObJoWblWNs4t8nUE8A3GNtGNAU2hqXmrz_PNSEEgllYdlLSLA8QBuJqLij61jGCsnlMbHs9JhL8KgNbFzX7STvywEM3blhFGAZOB45Ig5oVC/s400/Poster_Friend_m.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><font color="#000066">UCLA STUDY ON FRIENDSHIP AMONG WOMEN<br />By Gale Berkowitz<br />A landmark UCLA study suggests friendships between women are special. They shape who we are and who we are yet to be. They soothe our tumultuous inner world, fill the emotional gaps in our marriage, and help us remember who we really are. By the way, they may do even more.<br />Scientists now suspect that hanging out with our friends can actually counteract the kind of stomach-quivering stress most of us experience on a daily basis. A landmark UCLA study suggests that women respond to stress with a cascade of brain chemicals that cause us to make and maintain friendships with other women. It's a stunning find that has turned five decades of stress research---most of it on men---upside down.<br />"Until this study was published, scientists generally believed that when people experience stress, they trigger a hormonal cascade that revs the body to either stand and fight or flee as fast as possible," explains Laura Cousino Klein, Ph.D., now an Assistant Professor of Biobehavioral Health at Penn State University and one of the study's authors. "It's an ancient survival mechanism left over from the time we were chased across the planet by saber-toothed tigers.<br />Now the researchers suspect that women have a larger behavioral repertoire than just "fight or flight." "In fact," says Dr. Klein, "it seems that when the hormone oxytocin is released as part of the stress responses in a woman, it buffers the "fight or flight" response and encourages her to tend children and gather with other women instead.<br />When she actually engages in this tending or befriending, studies suggest that more oxytocin is released, which further counters stress and produces a calming effect. This calming response does not occur in men", says Dr. Klein, "because testosterone---which men produce in high levels when they're under stress---seems to reduce the effects of oxytocin. Estrogen", she adds, "seems to enhance it."<br />The discovery that women respond to stress differently than men was made in a classic "aha!" moment shared by two women scientists who were talking one day in a lab at UCLA. "There was this joke that when the women who worked in the lab were stressed, they came in, cleaned the lab, had coffee, and bonded", says Dr. Klein." When the men were stressed, they holed up somewhere on their own. I commented one day to fellow researcher Shelley Taylor that nearly 90% of the stress research is on males. I showed her the data from my lab, and the two of us knew instantly that we were onto something."<br />The women cleared their schedules and started meeting with one scientist after another from various research specialties. Very quickly, Drs. Klein and Taylor discovered that by not including women in stress research, scientists had made a huge mistake: The fact that women respond to stress differently than men has significant implications for our health. It may take some time for new studies to reveal all the ways that oxytocin encourages us to care for children and hang out with other women, but the "tend and befriend" notion developed by Drs. Klein and Taylor may explain why women consistently outlive men. Study after study has found that social ties reduce our risk of disease by lowering blood pressure, heart rate, and cholesterol.<br />"There's no doubt," says Dr. Klein, "that friends are helping us live." In one study, for example, researchers found that people who had no friends increased their risk of death over a 6-month period. In another study, thoseh who had the most friends over a 9-year period cut their risk of death by more than 60%. Friends are also helping us live better.<br />The famed Nurses' Health Study from Harvard Medical School found that the more friends women had, the less likely they were to develop physical impairments as they aged, and the more likely they were to be leading a joyful life. In fact, the results were so significant, the researchers concluded, that not having close friends or confidantes was as detrimental to your health as smoking or carrying extra weight!<br />And that's not all! When the researchers looked at how well the women functioned after the death of their spouse, they found that even in the face of this biggest stressor of all, those women who had a close friend confidante were more likely to survive the experience without any new physical impairments or permanent loss of vitality. Those without friends were not always so fortunate.<br />Yet if friends counter the stress that seems to swallow up so much of our life these days, if they keep us healthy and even add years to our life, why is it so hard to find time to be with them? That's a question that also troubles researcher Ruthellen Josselson, Ph.D., co-author of "Best Friends: The Pleasures and Perils of Girls' and Women's Friendships (Three Rivers Press, 1998)."Every time we get overly busy with work and family, the first thing we do is let go of friendships with other women," explains Dr. Josselson. "We push them right to the back burner. That's really a mistake because women are such a source of strength to each other. We nurture one another. And we need to have unpressured space in which we can do the special kind of talk that women do when they're with other women. It's a very healing experience."<br />Taylor, S. E., Klein, L.C., Lewis,B. P., Gruenewald, T. L., Gurung, R.A.R.,<br />& Updegraff, J. A. (2000).<br />"Female Responses to Stress: Tend and Befriend, Not Fight or<br />Flight",Psychological Review, 107(3), 41-429.</font></div></div>Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-22071106999196426042010-06-10T21:48:00.000-07:002010-06-11T08:20:34.530-07:00Drum Brothers & Satsang Music<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiry-3tYJKpqOiqRvW_4KjqHYcfyLp6-wJAZuJ_b1m8A4GANUte4oFeMoUzLXlR9-0lT4OurftHMNQtvF739LuPw3vRKVl9MM27aZF71PAJwZ7aV63ZaXtREx2CeGZO6veexNU02tERgbyW/s1600/drum.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 133px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481536022882766050" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiry-3tYJKpqOiqRvW_4KjqHYcfyLp6-wJAZuJ_b1m8A4GANUte4oFeMoUzLXlR9-0lT4OurftHMNQtvF739LuPw3vRKVl9MM27aZF71PAJwZ7aV63ZaXtREx2CeGZO6veexNU02tERgbyW/s400/drum.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fdrumbrothers.com%2Fmusic.htm&h=349d1">Drum Brothers & Satsang Music</a><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#663333;">Once again another joyous escape into the ecstatic pulse of the drumbeat.<br /><br />I was moved to tears as the whole room vibrated and resonated with the pulse and beat of not only the guitar, drone, and drum but also of the power of chant. Tears...i fought them back. I was overcome with emotion, with feeling, with being alive, with getting in touch, with release.<br /><br /><br /><br />Big sigh. All the air out. Blow it away. again. return to centre. pause. Exhale. Breathe in. deep. forceful out breathe. close your eyes. listen. repeat.<br /><br /><br /><br />Ahhh, it has been a week. I wanted to melt right there and blubber and sob and let it out. If it were any other gathering I would have. I pictured the leader of the workshop as Pam (England, BFW) and I know if she were there she would have welcomed the tears, she would have known another layer had been peeled away...finally...she would have looked me straight in the eye and challenged me to go deeper, to get in touch, to get angry perhaps. But it was not the time or place. So I talked myself down, I told myself what i was feeling was only a story I was telling myself, that it wasn't the real story...that eveything was a story.....<br /><br /><br /><br />The pulse, the beat, the rhythm, the unity in a group of strangers. The energy, the beauty, the symetry, the syncronicity, the heartbeat.....<br /><br /><br /><br />The muck, the mudiness, the struggle, the hurt, the fear, the future.....disolved for but a moment.<br /><br /><br /><br />Thank-you. More. More. More. Enough.<br /><br />with love, Tricia </span></div>Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-89138972113436124042010-06-10T08:35:00.000-07:002010-06-10T08:40:10.809-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifNoFweOKa7y3RTCoRvrHP_jDcieZt0HbobZlsEqJQWWvjL34vIUpuq1PKh4xNMrM4754RfxeIQ1tLh-28-I_tTavZmY4om1myibf7PF5yiTnuh-7il8uSb1Dfc27TTkC1phj-fwPf_ScE/s1600/senseand.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 84px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 130px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481169454078387138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifNoFweOKa7y3RTCoRvrHP_jDcieZt0HbobZlsEqJQWWvjL34vIUpuq1PKh4xNMrM4754RfxeIQ1tLh-28-I_tTavZmY4om1myibf7PF5yiTnuh-7il8uSb1Dfc27TTkC1phj-fwPf_ScE/s400/senseand.jpg" /></a><br />And so it will be Sense and Sensibility as my july read. I found it the other day for $1.00 at the thrift store. I also found an autobiography of Jane Austen written by Carol Shields which I also picked up. I think it will be an interesting read as well.<br /><div></div>Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-11804255698127991742010-06-10T08:19:00.000-07:002010-06-10T08:35:10.393-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb9X5UivvJNUMf3SUokUdmOSppFEpU0XX56cZfYHIRIpNAR2D5OfJrMHZGqdf_cW_perQfyYHXVvKUp_r09czCtJeCUseCWeBdkosaEUBSLEtO65NTV2_52r3XrBxlx560H1mgeuWrmnwY/s1600/imagesCAJ6YL5E.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 135px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 135px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481168621701787234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb9X5UivvJNUMf3SUokUdmOSppFEpU0XX56cZfYHIRIpNAR2D5OfJrMHZGqdf_cW_perQfyYHXVvKUp_r09czCtJeCUseCWeBdkosaEUBSLEtO65NTV2_52r3XrBxlx560H1mgeuWrmnwY/s400/imagesCAJ6YL5E.jpg" /></a><br /><div><span style="color:#339999;">Some days are just hard. The perpetual cycle of the day in/ day out catches up and like a crack in the cosmic egg all hell breaks loose. Yesterday was like that. </span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#339999;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#339999;">What to do?</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#339999;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#339999;">Well, my motto for awhile has been "Keep on truckin'"... or "Still Truckin'" if someone asks "how's it going?"....</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#339999;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#339999;">It seems to work.</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#339999;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#339999;">Yesterday as the chaos that was began to subside and much gentler rhythm began to unfold I was graced with the unexpected presence of good friends. Both arriving almost simultaneously. One didn't stay long, the other was forced to settle in and once again be guided by the wishes/needs of the children.</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#339999;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#339999;">There are few things that can compare to the comfort and solace granted by the simple pleasure of spending time in the company of a good friend. One who sees past the dirt on the floors, the smudges on all the windows, the dishes in and out of the sink, the toilet paper rolling around the bathroom floor and the piles of clothes that multiply as the night goes on (they just do).</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#339999;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#339999;">And so we shared a meal (kinda) and shared some wine and shared some smiles and enjoyed the kids being kids.</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#339999;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#339999;">It is moments like that that seal the crack in the cosmic egg (for another day) and help propel me forward to a new day (same crap/different day).</span></div><div><span style="color:#339999;"></span> </div><div><span style="color:#339999;"></span> </div><div><span style="color:#339999;">with love, Tricia</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#339999;"></span></div><br /><div></div>Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-24102214042154664842010-06-09T13:59:00.000-07:002010-06-09T14:49:40.615-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_z2MGZNtYrTNNfetpbQJti7btroQGe8DwbJ7GECFT60v5pSzquucNqcFM4UuYYIbFgXZi2qpeCCwz2oGXpI7z7SG51S6FmhRTItGVCZ5l_53GMwP3GYXDv2hvv_j4rQS426kATTu_JvcI/s1600/sex&city2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 124px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 102px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480885226663183346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_z2MGZNtYrTNNfetpbQJti7btroQGe8DwbJ7GECFT60v5pSzquucNqcFM4UuYYIbFgXZi2qpeCCwz2oGXpI7z7SG51S6FmhRTItGVCZ5l_53GMwP3GYXDv2hvv_j4rQS426kATTu_JvcI/s400/sex&city2.jpg" /></a> Yep. Seriously. I went to see this movie last night. Of course, the company is what really made the experience fabulous. Myself and three friends...ok, mom friends...cause when you break it all down you can get away from the kids for a few hours but you never really get a "break" from being the mom.<br /><br />Yep. right again. I used the word <em>the. The </em>mom. Not<em> a </em>mom...anyone can be<em> a </em>mom but in each family there is noone that can replace, duplicate, fill in the shoes (no matter how big, how small or how crappy) of <em>the </em>mom.<br /><br />So we went as four moms sans enfants. With big purses filled with all kinds of chocolate, snack mix, fuzzy peaches and natural gummy things plus one smart cookie had a water bottle full of gin. We sat in the very last row...four seats...perfect.<br /><br />And the movie...well, it was kinda enjoyable. There were some really good scenes in that flick.<br /><br />Today was one of those days (again) where the scene with the "true confessions of mommyhood" (take a sip) rang true once again. It seems like it should be simple. I just need them to get up, get ready, and go to school. Not so easy. So we ended up in a stand off once again. This time with Chloe locked in the bathroom, not coming out, actually getting cozy in the bathtub. This <em>after</em> I chased her around the kitchen with a scary look on my face and the closest thing possible in my hand, a piece of wooden train track...and I thought "move faster,get motivated, get out the door". She didn't try to hurry up and catch her ride, she leisurly stood there packing her bag, listening to the horn honking (huge irritation) and didn't attempt to speed up. UGH. So frustrating and I snapped. And she ran to bathroom and wouldn't come out. She later transfered to her room.<br /><br />Where is my all expense paid trip to Abudabu when I need one? With friends and a private bar?<br /><br />There is no Abudabi in my future. Thank goddess the friend part makes up for that! And the private bar? Not so much, <em>but </em>there are clothing swaps and full moon singing circles and potlucks to make up for it and to dip into too much sangria and more. There are open ears and open hearts and reflective eyes. There are lots of hugs and open arms. There is alot of "how can I help or what do you need".....<br /><br />It just doesn't take the <em>the </em>from in front of the word "mom"...I'm still the mom. Dammit some days.<br /><br />And the days not over yet.Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-76359219263594860672010-06-08T08:43:00.000-07:002010-06-08T09:00:53.489-07:00<span style="color:#cc6600;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHa6lduROFwYTLPdD16-JIOtJOXm5zM6wOE5wLgUP9AyRXzSueE_Rsd_C2eOSLnwH8Do8MAjegHL768ab19ExECeFKJM7n3W_n_VonEZTJsJHKoTpaZVpksHNjruB9LlxUbbt85D0XsNXv/s1600/jane.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 84px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 120px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480429354955819538" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHa6lduROFwYTLPdD16-JIOtJOXm5zM6wOE5wLgUP9AyRXzSueE_Rsd_C2eOSLnwH8Do8MAjegHL768ab19ExECeFKJM7n3W_n_VonEZTJsJHKoTpaZVpksHNjruB9LlxUbbt85D0XsNXv/s400/jane.jpg" /></a> <span style="color:#993300;">I watched this movie last night. I have a "wish" list when it comes to movies I havn't seen yet but know they are kicking around my many dvd piles. It usual goes like this : I <em>wish </em>the kids were in bed, I <em>wish </em>the dishes were done, I <em>wish </em>I weren't too tired to watch a good movie.<br /><br />Last night the kids played outside till bedtime and I gave them a snack, helped them brush their teeth and Lola just crawled into bed and was asleep before I turned the light off. Astrid was a little more determined to stay up, so as she lay sprawled on the recliner, head on the footrest, the rest of her body laying across the seat and arms of the recliner looking like a cat....she tried to stay awake. I went in the kitchen for a moment, walked by a few minutes later and she was hanging there, cat-like, upside down in the chair, asleep. I moved her to her bed shortly there after and began to dig through the pile of dvd's.<br /><br />I settled on The Jane Austen Book Club. I am so glad I did! It was one of those wonderful little movies that had me grinning the whole time. Yes, it was delightful.<br /><br />I love that kinda easy to watch, feel good, chic flick. Although, I think even the guys could appreciate this one. It was just good.<br /><br />I realised, not that it's a surprise to me or anything, that I have <em>never </em>read a Jane Austen novel.<br />I know, shame on me( as my Catholic mother would say, not that she's ever read on either).<br /><br />I think I will choose one for my summer reading.<br /><br />Any suggestions from out there?<br /><br />I may just start with the first one that shows up at the thrift store....or I could be more specific and choose one and hunt it down at the second hand bookstore.<br /><br />I havn't decided yet.<br /><br />with love, Tricia<br /><br /></span>Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-4840012703686553502010-06-07T18:54:00.000-07:002010-06-07T19:13:50.070-07:00more on meditation<span style="color:#009900;">So much of my life is about being a mom. I didn't want to just be a "mommy blogger", not that I am officially a blogger (but I do kinda love this as a creative outlet) but I did suspect that I may have many more layers of interesting and fascinating stories and "stuff" to share.<br /><br />Not so much.<br /><br />Right now.<br /><br />I am still on borrowed time whilst I sit here and type. (one handed I might add because I learned to type and breastfeed or hold a babe and thus the one handed typing thing)<br /><br />So the meditation thing.....sweet story.<br /><br />Yesterday I was bound to the usual routine of hunting and gathering the groceries for the week and Saige needed to clean the yoga studio. So off we went. She was in a good mood perhaps from reeling in a good haul of babysitting cash over the weekend. For whatever reason she decided to be uncharacteristically generous and bought me a blended coffee from Blendz. Then we started to drive and she cranked, I mean CRANKED the Lady Ga Ga on the stereo. She danced and sang in the passenger seat beside me and I could feel her exuberance like rays of sunshine.<br /><br />It was loud. Real loud. I just drove. I didn't reach to turn it down. I didn't comment on how loud it was. I found myself meditating to Lady Ga Ga. I moved my shoulders up and down to the beat a few times, I might have sang along with a chorus or two but for the most part I just didn't try to change it. I just noticed my thoughts and my daughter enjoying herSELF and we drove home vibrating with the rhythm.<br /><br />It was a good moment.<br /><br />It is a small town though and I was wishing that I had been wearing a pair of dark sunglasses.<br /><br /><br />with love, Tricia </span>Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-26831032532069269102010-06-05T07:33:00.000-07:002010-06-05T07:34:59.259-07:00The Oculatum Day 6 Week 2Four lines, read six times, thrice daily..................<br /><br />THE EGG<br />MUST BREAK<br />FOR THE EAGLE<br />TO FLY<br /><br />Another good one....with many interpretations I would suspect................I like it!Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-54727420933527194102010-06-04T08:27:00.000-07:002010-06-04T08:28:40.885-07:00The Oculatum Day 5 Week 2Four lines, read six times, thrice daily........here we go.....<br /><br />COMPLACENCE<br />BE FRIEND<br />OF CERTAIN<br />FAILURE<br /><br />That's a good one for me................Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-21204069421036454892010-06-03T08:46:00.000-07:002010-06-03T08:49:50.977-07:00The Oculatum Day 4 Week 2<span style="color:#000000;">Four lines, read six times, thrice daily......<br /><br />TO WAIT<br />IS OFTEN<br />THE BOLDER<br />ACTION<br /><br /><br />Hmmm...always interesting. I never peek ahead to see what the next four lines will be...<br /><br />Wouldn't it be fun to copy some of these out on paper and start leaving them around the city for people to find? Not quite hidden between stones and mortar, but kinda....<br /><br />with love, Tricia </span>Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-67494413466092004962010-06-02T09:02:00.001-07:002010-06-03T08:37:34.034-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEvcodwoW992PW7OojrytlGztHWuS6Mn-TsBPGZxJz9pVzof7VtHPibKIux5qWZS3g2AddjhbabDlIYoPleHztKw3S-eEG2S-fqCD5BcJ5CpTaNmoQvtBZNoL8sGn1Gb78zyiEcCqjYBnO/s1600/fruit+fly.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 126px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 78px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478209754600891522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEvcodwoW992PW7OojrytlGztHWuS6Mn-TsBPGZxJz9pVzof7VtHPibKIux5qWZS3g2AddjhbabDlIYoPleHztKw3S-eEG2S-fqCD5BcJ5CpTaNmoQvtBZNoL8sGn1Gb78zyiEcCqjYBnO/s400/fruit+fly.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#993399;">So as I was making my smoothie and a fruit fly landed inside the blender...a big fruit fly...one that has been feeding in our kitchen for some time now...one that now looks like a fruit fly bat...and as I tried to shew it away...I lost track of it. </span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#993399;"></span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#993399;">I only had the banana and some juice in the blender at this point, so I did a thorough check looking for the little big guy and couldn't see any signs.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#993399;"></span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#993399;">I waited and watched for a bit...waved a half a lemon around and hoped he would show up....no sign of him. Knowing this "issue" was getting a bit close to OCD territory I continued to add the rest of the ingredients, put the lid on and flicked the switch.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#993399;"></span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#993399;">I am still a wee bit disturbed by the fly's disappearance....</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#993399;"></span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#993399;">I know, I probably eat more bugs in my sleep...but this time I was awake...</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#993399;"></span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#993399;">And still not convinced that I was successful at shooing it <em>out</em> of the blender.</span></div><br /><br /><div></div>Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-61347876997419482082010-06-02T08:12:00.000-07:002010-06-02T08:14:33.043-07:00The Oculatum Day 3 Week 2Four lines, read six times, thrice daily....<br /><br />THAT DESPISED<br />OF OTHERS<br />WE SOON SEE<br />OF OUR SELF<br /><br />Once in the morning, again at noon, and once more before retiring for the evening...Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-52301863050488770232010-06-01T22:49:00.000-07:002010-06-04T08:32:38.711-07:00Zentangle Zendoodle Art Play- Hand in Circle Mandala by Milliande<p><object style="BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://i4.ytimg.com/vi/7Sf3ADPm7zY/hqdefault.jpg)" width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7Sf3ADPm7zY&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7Sf3ADPm7zY&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="425" height="344" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object></p><p><a href="http://www.milliande.com/">www.milliande.com</a></p><p>I found this cool demo and wonderful art site....</p><p>I love the idea of the zendala...</p><p>I wanted to show you the one I did but, the batteries are dead on the camera and they have to charge before I can upload it.....</p><p>So, give it a try....I used a dvd that was sitting her beside me to start and a piece of blank printer paper...and a fine point sharpie.....</p><p>It is fun! And medatative!</p><p>xoxTricia</p>Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4896629133845069717.post-2649328854327243782010-06-01T22:15:00.000-07:002010-06-02T07:55:56.690-07:00<span style="color:#cc0000;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU6dsdGmpW3WLZwx0wSvspe_1c7RtmFrOCDqaFT5PMv9uPYwCCCzwk5moO8QfgJ21j3lxEenyxE28qfLhMsM9N4njlpMJQXujKuE11j38Sl8qStMCW-_eMFApFP-a4F6FPn3E5_X_TdKir/s1600/CA9Q4D1ACA9RP3MPCA5FN0QTCA6P8CGOCA45V23WCAQPQY9UCAZWIC4UCAXZP2X1CA9E4PZECAID026GCA7J19D9CAVTT0SXCAFGIO0UCAT1534GCAX1LDH2CAV2RKGQCACRUG41CAVJ9QTNCAFBM188.jpg"><span style="color:#cc0000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 124px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 82px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478048749288248498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU6dsdGmpW3WLZwx0wSvspe_1c7RtmFrOCDqaFT5PMv9uPYwCCCzwk5moO8QfgJ21j3lxEenyxE28qfLhMsM9N4njlpMJQXujKuE11j38Sl8qStMCW-_eMFApFP-a4F6FPn3E5_X_TdKir/s400/CA9Q4D1ACA9RP3MPCA5FN0QTCA6P8CGOCA45V23WCAQPQY9UCAZWIC4UCAXZP2X1CA9E4PZECAID026GCA7J19D9CAVTT0SXCAFGIO0UCAT1534GCAX1LDH2CAV2RKGQCACRUG41CAVJ9QTNCAFBM188.jpg" /></span></a><span style="color:#cc0000;"><br /></span><br /><div><span style="color:#cc0000;">Today there were a few of those rare (ok, not so rare) moments in Motherhood where I wanted to stop the tape....whoah...hold it....cut.<br /><br />I simply decided we would follow friends to the park to enjoy the sunshine and the whining and fighting began!<br /><br />I can definitely see some days how it would be easier to have half the kids I have....<br /><br />Oh, the stink eye and attitude from the Big Girls because I choose to zip over to the park so their sisters could enjoy some play time. The whining and complaining and effort to be miserable.<br /><br />The worst part : the witnesses. Yep. It is at times like these that I would prefer to throw them all back into the van (whining, complaining,fighting) and drive home and LOCK MYSELF IN MY BEDROOM. Perhaps even enjoy a bit of a pity party over the lousy behaviour exhibited by my children...in public, no less. And mabe even stroll for awhile down that path of "where did I go wrong?"....and then eat some hidden lindt easter eggs....and get ready to emerge from my cocoon of denial. I said I would <em>prefer </em>to do this...what I did was resist the urge to throttle the two oldest kids, let the younger kids play (when they weren't being harassed by their older sisters) and stayed a few minutes longer than I might have if they had been cooperating. And I just kinda "noticed" the feelings that were coming up. In my head I was having a full on temper tantrum to match the full on teenage tantrums I was subjected to. Subjected...sounds victim-ish...it is...I was feeling that way...I just didn't respond that way...outwards.<br /><br />Yep. Other moms at the park with their still "controlable" kids under the age of....7...or so. Most likely thinking to themselves that <em>they </em>will <em>never </em>let their kids behave like that...let alone in public. I've learned never to say "never"....there may always be a first time.<br /><br />And really, are my on the "way to adulthood" kids not responsible for their own lousy behaviour by now....How long am I held responsible? Just wondering.<br /><br />Things seemed to settled down once we were home but i am still searching the internet for an exchange program (minus the exchange) that I can send them on to experience a different culture. Preferably one without internet, cable, plumbing or readily available food. You know, something that would help them realise how good they've got it...even when forced to enjoy a few minutes in the sunshine at the park.<br /><br />with love, Tricia</span> </div>Triciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857836269876900151noreply@blogger.com1