A Simple Piece of Posterboard

        

        I did not realize last night was the Full Buck Moon.  For some reason, I had it in my head that this past Saturday was the Full Moon and that I had therefore missed the opportunity to make a Full Moon Dreamboard along with Jamie and the other Dreamers.  Lucky me, I didn’t miss it.  I landed smack dab in the very heart of it, eyes wide shut and prepared to dive feet first off the cliff into the watery abyss that is my subconscious.

            For a couple weeks now, I have been planning this dreamboard.  Not the images.  I had no clue whatsoever what images I was going to use, even after I had them gathered and ready to go.  I didn’t give thought to direction or color or …anything at all.  I have three different sizes of poster board downstairs.  Until the moment I grabbed a larger piece last night, I could not have even told you what size I was going to make this board.  What I decided early on though was that 1-my brain is too cluttered and I needed/wanted my subconscious to speak up and be heard…2-I wanted the message to be very very clear, even if the details were not spelled out…3-I wanted to know what Path I should be taking, what I should be making important in my life and, sort of, how and why.  Amazing, huh?  Not too much to ask, {sarcasm sign held up here}, when you think I’ve been plotting this for weeks without giving it any major thought whatsoever other than ‘this is what I need and want to know…now fork it over’…

            The original intention was to make sure the kitchen table was cleared off …but…that hasn’t happened yet.  I brought my art table (a folding table) upstairs and put E on it yesterday to do her schoolwork (rather than on the kitchen table since she is the main source of clutter) in the hopes that she could work better if she were not surrounded but such chaos.  Alas, that’s not how it worked out.  I had meant to have the art table to my self for my own purposes after she went to bed.  Nope.  The kid is chaotic…it follows her.  The mess was so extensive …notebooks, folders, papers, crayons, markers, pencil shavings…that I decided I wasn’t touching any of it…so I retired to the living room to watch the rest of Season Two of ‘The Big Bang Theory’, which I ordered months and months ago and never got around to watching after moving from across the river, and then moving again into R’s house.

            In the middle of the shows, I got up, grabbed three National Geographics from the 70s,(I have five or six laying around just for this purpose-although I have not used them since I bought them nearly 3 years ago) and went in search of poster board.  Then I had to find the glue.  Since 95% of our stuff is as yet unpacked, those things are not quite as simple as they would seem. 

            Next, I went through all three magazines and just pulled out what appealed to me.  I have enough images left over for another dream board…and I actually think I may use the smaller images to make a monthly plan dream board a little later today, once I am done with my writing and editing and posting that I have mandated I must complete today.  This, of course, does not include housework, though it really should.  After pulling the images, I went through and trimmed all the images.  I set my poster board up across two wooden tv trays and set to work.

            I am actually very surprised by how many layers this board has.  Layers and layers upon layers.  I love that.  You can still see pieces of every single layer, but some of the overall pieces that I thought would be telling and visible are barely seeable at all.  I cut and trimmed and glued and moved things around and glued some more.  When I stepped back, this thing took my breath away.  I took the pictures while the piece was still wet.

            I had to hang it up, right then.  No letting it dry flat overnight or anything.  I removed all the other dreamboards from the wall where I keep them.  I tend to put one on top the other, not removing the old ones, simply adding the new one on top of the old.  With this one, however, the others needed to come down.  I put them in a place where their energies would still be flowing and working, but this one needed its own space, all by itself.  It had to have room to do its work and to grow and to spread.  That’s how it felt last night; that’s how it feels today. 

            When I woke up this morning and looked over at it (it’s on the wall in my bedroom), this piece took my breath away, again.  The colors alone trigger such evocative emotions in me.  I see the messages.  I get it.  Finally.  I know which way I am heading.  I even have more than a slight idea how to get there—which for me is pretty impressive.    Those colors.  Wow.  I recently pared down my wardrobe to the absolute bare minimum essentials…and these are the colors, for the most part, with which I am left.  Stunning. 

One task today that I didn’t realize I had set for myself until I was in the process of doing it was to take the picture of the dreamboard and set it as the background on my computer, so that I see it all the time, every day, not just when I am in my bedroom.  Not that I haven’t been spending more time alone in the bedroom during the day—I have.  I have set myself a little bit of a writer’s nook so I can work on my daily writing practice and my pseudo-morning pages.

            Now, I have been working on a new project, as you can see here.  It is still in the planning stages, to say the least.  I had to write a small blurb about it so I could post it in a public forum, lest I grow cold feet and shelf the project for a year or two.  This is something rather near and dear to my heart that I have pondered and thought about and wondered about and looked for from other people for a good five, six years now, if not longer.  Ok, fine.  I have to admit it.  The basics have been swimming around in my brain since the late 90s, when I ordered a Yogananda program.  The program packed away at the moment, so I can’t give you details…and of course I do not see this particular program listed on the website anymore.  I ordered mine in the 90s—it came with cassette tapes.  I saw it a few years later, offered with cds.  It was a meditation/ self-realization program.  It made a large impact on me at the time, remnants of which are still bound to my body/mind, for which I am truly honored and grateful. 

This dreamboard only solidifies my need to pursue this course that much more fully and openly.  Keep an eye out.  I wrote something this morning, during my pseudo-morning pages (I say pseudo since I program them with a certain topic every day and then basically free write…not the whole unfettered stream of consciousness thing with which Julia Cameron created the concept.)…I need to type that out and post it there today, or quite possibly tomorrow, depending on how things move around here for the rest of the day.

 

            This dreamboard is also actually pushing me more forward with my other creative project, seen here.  I have several entries written out and ready to be typed up…but I have been hesitant to draw or to find the photographs I know I have taken that will aid the presentation of these pieces.  It’s been so easy to just sigh and sit back and let everything overwhelm me of late…but I am trying very hard to get off my backside, get back in the saddle and really get moving again.  I have become very interested in the new goings-on at SoulFoodCafe, as some of the past journeys that have been undertaken by this group are the inspiration for my own personal journey with this blog…

            Strangely enough, the main gist of what I take away from this newest dreamboard is in order to go forward you must go back…do not falter in the details (as in stop thinking you need to read and study and go through other people), but rather focus on what you know (as in what your heart and soul tell you, not your brain, nor your personal frame of reference).  Be open.  Be pure.  Remember who you are and how very infinitely strong you are.  Remember how many there are who have your back, on this side of the Veil and the other (as in friends and family still alive, and those who have passed on, the Ancestors).

            Here’s to a wonderful experience following my Path, going forwards by going backwards, which has always been my own best way.  I look forward to sharing it with you along the way.

            Peace.

Dreaming Big? Wishing Big? More Than That Too...

There are so many things going through my brain...I know I am probably over the edge into Wednesday, so I am curious as to what Jamie will have for us for Wishcasting Wednesday, of which this is not a part, since I wrote this this weekend.

Is it mean to point out how very close the bf and I are in to moving in together?  It is on the table, has been for a couple weeks.  We've lived together before and did fairly well as only room-mates...ahh...the things we have planned...it's pretty amazing for and to both of us at the moment...I look forward to spending the rest of my life with this man.  After this weekend, after the past few days, there are no more doubts.  Not on either side.  

Opening The Door To That Bigger House

I am tired of not dreaming big enough.  I didn’t realize I was dreaming small.  All I know now is I want I must dream BIGGER.  And that begins right now right this minute. 

What I really want is a big kitchen.  With a double sided sink, a garbage disposal, a sprayer.  Big double sinks, not small ones.  Something I can set the pans in to soak and the pans fit.  Lots of countertop space.  Lots of cabinet space.  A hanging rack for pots and pans.   Room for a butcher block.  Room for a big kitchen table.

A breakfast nook would be good, just somewhere for the family to meet and to be together.  A dining room would be nice, but is not necessary.  So long as there is space for the family dining table, I am good.   If we have room for a hutch or china cabinet or two, that would make it even better.

I want an actual separate laundry room.  It can be in the basement or whatever, but I don’t want to have to look at my washer and dryer or have them be part of my kitchen experience ever again.

I want to have a working fireplace. 

I want a big bathroom, for the master bath.  A huge claw foot tub.  Something I can lie all the way down in and stretch out.  Something where the ceiling is taller than I am, so I can stretch and turn while I am under the spray.  I want there to be enough room in the shower for at least six or eight people.  Not that I ever want to have that many people in the shower with me; I merely want the space so I can dance or stretch or do yoga under the shower’s spray.  Or anything else that comes to mind.

It would be nice to have at least two bathrooms, what with all the kids running around. 

I want tall ceilings.  I want plenty of headspace.  Vaulted ceilings more like the living room in the house in FS.  I want tons of windows in every room.  I want lots of natural light.

I want at least four bedrooms.  I want a full basement.  I want more than enough room for an office.  I want space for the exercise equipment.  I want space for my art studio.  I want plenty of storage space for all the yarn and fabric and other supplies I tend to collect.

I want big closets all over the house for everyone.  I want everyone to have plenty of space to grow and evolve and be themselves.

I want a big family room.  I want a decent living room.  I want lots of space for books and movies and anything else we need to have lots of room in the house. 

I want an actual garage, a two car garage at that.  I want a patio in the back, all wooden and with a screen overhead, with plenty of room for a table and chairs.  I want a covered, maybe even screened in, front porch too.  It would be awesome if we could have a sun room somewhere too.

I want a big fenced in yard for the dogs and the kids.  If we could have a swing set or fort or something for the kids built in the back, which would be incredible.  I want the yard landscaped and wonderful.

I do not care for carpeting.  I want hardwood floors In every room except the kitchen and bathrooms.  There I would prefer tile or slate of something stone-like.

Restoring The Dig Tree

I find myself standing amid the debris and destruction that was my dig tree. I am not disenchanted or downtrodden or sad. I find that I am feeling strong, happy, hopeful. I search through the shards and shrapnel of exploded wood with care. I do not know for certain what it is for which I search, but I am sure I will know it when I see it. I stand there astounded by how far out the blast area reaches. Even though the lightning strike had caused a huge contusion, it hadn’t occurred to me that some much could have been thrown so far. And yet, it obviously had been. I walk slowly, circling, from left to right, in ever-widening circles, then ever-shrinking circles, over and over again, losing all sense of time and space, going in and going out, as my brain ceases to ponder the whys and wherefores of what happened last time I stood with this tree. I merely observe and attest to the reality of nothinglessness.
The remainder of the trunk remains attached to the roots seems to be stuck canted half in and half out of the dirt. I see shriveled blackened roots. So much of the wood appears to have died long ago, densely choked with noxious black goo, as well as plenty having withered away to tendrils of ash and dust. However, there is also a lot of healthy growth showing, where there were good times, places where healing continued as best it could under the circumstances. Even amidst this chaos of death, I can see the tiny fragments of life beading up, demanding their own fighting chance to survive. I cannot and will not take that from any of them.
I start to think I have spent enough time here, commiserating with the left-overs of the tree. Apparently, whatever it is I came to find is no longer here. Or maybe it was the memory alone that I was to gather and hold tight as my own. I walk away, back towards where I had come from, when I see it, about twelve feet away from the main core of the trunk. A tiny seedling, gasping with hope and vitality. My tree does not grow from seed, but from seedling, from an outgrowth from the roots that sends up new shoots at random periodic intervals. Here I am. Here is the spark I have been looking for, waiting for, needing to gather up with gracious arms and loving tears, to transplant to another , much safer ground.
With the utmost care and lightest of touches, I clear away the ground, digging around to ensure the safety of the root ball. The ball of craggly earth that I prise up is nearly three times larger than the sapling itself, but I don’t care. All I know is I must protect this baby. I carry it in my arms until I return to my abode, not quite a home, now less than a house since my heart has left it. I fill a deep wide pot full of the richest soil and plant my tiny tree in the pot, covering it with more fresh dirt and mulch. I will give it three days to adjust to the changes before I water it, in order to protect the roots that much more, according to the way I was taught by an ancient gardener long ago.
I offer it prayers, send energizing love and sweetest healing powers deep into its roots and its core. I set crystals around its edges to catch the sun and add that much more healing power and energy to the soil. I pray over it, weaving ribbons of light around the pot, the trunk and the tiny little leaves that bravely spurn the arena of death we so recently departed. I know that once I find my Home, I shall dig a wide deep hole and burrow the roots of this tree into the earth there, where I shall nurture and attend to this tree constantly, with all my love and ability. Where this tree grows shall be my everlasting Home. Now, in order to protect both this tree and my family, I must look even harder for that home that is meant for us.











prompt found at The Dig Tree