Delightful

It is a Tuesday night in the middle of winter here in Aotearoa. I am tucked up in our big comfy bed at our big comfy farm with my big comfy Damon and my not-so-big and often comfy but utterly disinterested in anyone but himself cat.

I made fresh wholewheat buns and extra gooey-sticky cinnamon buns and my beloved former chef and total snack of a husband foraged for leafy greens and fresh herbs in the garden. He proceeded to cook up an omelet using farm fresh eggs from our pampered pet chickens.

Heavenly. Just everything about the vibe, calm, and total comfort of a night like tonight is just fucking perfect. I actually wish I could bottle it and sell it. 

This feeling; the smells and sounds of a home and hearth filled with safety and Love and manaakitanga. 

If I could share this magic, I suspect nobody would bother being greedy or committing any crime ever. War and famine would cease to exist because we’d all have full hearts and bellies and be dripping with gratitude and basking in the awe that comes when we can hear birdsong, rustling leaves and a babbling brook that winds her way by our snuggly Scandinavian style house. My cat is still a total asshole, but even he gets smoochie when we are up here.

Sharing this feeling has become something of an obsession. 

This place has been the epicenter of the healing journeys for Damon and myself, and our small but fiercely loyal team have found safety and joy here as well. It’s a huge honour to be able to share this magic with friends and strangers from around the globe with our two eco-tourism offerings.

Just five or six years ago, not a force on earth or across the heavens above could have convinced me that this feeling could or would ever be possible. Life and Love were transactional and steeped in trauma responses. 

Back then, there was only just enough bandwidth to survive. Today, and every day, even the shitty ones, I thrive.

This blissed out and totally self-determining existence has lifted me to a level of energy, focus and optimism that guides me to want to lift anyone and everyone to the solid ground I currently stand on. Pretty certain that I used to be kind and generous because I was desperate for people to like me. Today, I give less than no fucks when people don’t like me. I might even like it.

Scratch that.

I actually fucking LOVE it when people I can’t or don’t respect do not like me. Means I am on the right track. But even those cockwombles would be welcome with open arms if they really truly wanted to be close to nature and connect with the best parts of themselves here at the farm or through any of the work/outreach/community we are intending to nourish.

A long time ago, Damon and I were doing strategy work for our brand new baby business. We had to identify goals, risks, values, vision… you all know how it goes. During all that brain-storming, bluesky-ing, and sparkling embryonic we came up with a few seriously fucking solid points.

  1. Have fun, fail fast, feel joy, try new and cool shit often and with childlike wonder and abandon
  2. Biodiversity and respect for nature are integral to everything we do
  3. We want to act as and create a place that is an energetic lightening rod for hope, innovation, diversity and joy
  4. Profit, while inarguably important to be self-sustaining will NEVER be our primary driver
  5. Delight people 

There were more little sparks of genius and joy we wrote down but those are some from the top of my head and the fifth point is probably my favourite, and the reason for this blog.

We literally bop around the planet just having fun and delighting people. We leave fantastic reviews at hotels and restaurants, and gently suggest changes or improvements in private feedback for hosts and business owners who are clearly making an effort. We also lay some serious smack down if we stumble across a truly awful experience. This is rare.

The reason this blog is getting written is although we aim to delight as we bounce around being chipper and cheerful and encouraging, sometimes we just fuck shit up. An example of this happened while we were running errands in Newmarket before coming up to the farm.

As many of you know, we have a moody Tesla Model X named LOLGAS. She’s been at the forefront of the rEVolution, but has been mostly retired as a work horse on the farm and ferrying kids. Something is almost ALWAYS broken on her. Her current quirk is flinging the passenger side door open violently with extreme force – less than ideal! 

This flinging resulted in a noticeable dent being planted on a car parked next to us at the 277 carpark. We left a note explaining the situation and our phone number on the windscreen of the car we dinged and then we rang Tesla to check in for a fix as this current bug is a genuine hazard and needs to be fixed. 

Later that evening we got a call from a stranger. A lovely human named Peter called us about the ding. Turned out it was his daughter’s car, they had no intention of seeking compensation, but wanted to call to say that the fact we had left a note really touched them and that they hugely appreciated that. Damon and him then ended up having a wonderful chat about karma and gratitude and everyone left the moment feeling a bit more hopeful about the human cause and trajectory. 

Delightful. And we were delighted to be delighted by the stranger who made the effort to phone us and tell us he was delighted that we are on this journey of delighting others.

This story could have ended very differently. The fact it was so delightful made me want to share the whole story, including the warm glow of calm and comfort that I felt as I wrote this.

Have a delightful day.

Thanks for reading.

She’s A Witch

When it comes to everyone’s spirituality and their own personal journey, I am deeply curious and sincerely respectful of nearly any or all other people’s paths and decisions in these regards.

How my Spiritual Journey Began 

I grew up in a staunch conservative Lutheran tradition and also observed and attended French Canadian Catholic tradition throughout my formative years.  

Pretty safe to say, the regular church going folk did not generally like or accept me.  There was one pastor who held out some hope and noted my rather obvious lack of enthusiasm for organized traditional Western religion.  He also bought into the shared rhetoric that I was a hopeless good-for-nothing black sheep who would never amount to anything.  Sigh.  Such a common story shared about sparkly, irrepressible, hopeful (often neuro-spicy) souls, by people who actively yearn to control and manipulate rather than Love or understand them.  In my case, this narrative was actively built and shared by my now estranged biological mother.  She’s got her baggage but her actions and activities were then, and remain now, deplorable and unforgivable.  

I’ve got no beef with the pastor though.  He was a young, relatively hip pastor with a guitar and a pretty wife and a couple of young kids.  Poor fella was sent to the back end of nowhere in Tomahawk Alberta on ministry.  He would have been (rather reasonably I now feel) utterly confounded and often annoyed by me.  I did not then, and nor will I ever wish him any ill.  He likely thought he meant well.

I had three years of confirmation classes with hip young Pastor Steve, and my cousin Jocelyn and a lovely girl named Desiree.  Both of them went on to marry childhood sweethearts and thrive in and around the area we all grew up.  We met on Tuesdays after school to be confirmed at the age of 14.  Each of us were given a verse from the bible to guide us on our personal and spiritual journey through life.  

The verse given to me was from the second book of Timothy, Chapter one, verse seven.   I suspect because I have always been observed to lack self-control.

2nd Timothy 1:7 – English Standard Version (ESV)

 for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control

Rather lovely sentiment as I look back on it more than three decades later.  All this played out about the same time I was first diagnosed with rather raging ADHD.  I was acknowledged earlier than most as neuro spicy.  It was well before society, especially in a rural nowhere Alberta in the 1990’s had caught up to neurodiversity or systematic family trauma exacerbated by fear mongering conservative protestant ideologies.  

Christianity filled me with fear, self-loathing, and so many questions.  The book of Job sent me on a tail spin and is probably the nail in the coffin where my attachment to or interest in pursuing Christian spirituality ended.  I held on for a long time to try and win the impossible prize of my parents’ (particularly my dad) acceptance.  

It has been many years now since I have removed most of my family from my life, and there is not a moment of regret surrounding that decision.  The toxicity, manipulation and abuse they so willingly and actively subjected me to finally came to a head in 2018.  My life, mental health, and general happiness has taken a consistent upward trajectory since cutting my white trash parents loose.  My only regret is not doing it sooner.

Broad Thoughts On Spirituality and Religion Currently

So here we are in 2024.

I have always been fascinated by the mysteries and power of the natural and super-natural world.  Spiritual and moral teachings from Buddhism, Shamanism, Animalism, Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Sikhism, Occultism, Wicca, and countless other philosophies and traditions have resonated with and fascinated me with every happenchance or actively pursued exposure.  

The foundations of faith, community, curiosity and seeking understanding of the natural and supernatural world have vast potential.  These things can be enriching and unifying forces in the lives of individuals and among communities.  Belief in a benevolent force or order in the universe can and often does imbue hope in times of grief, struggle and uncertainty.  

The dark side of spirituality (religion more than spirituality I’d argue) is very dark indeed. We’ve too often observed the proliferation of hate, ignorance, bigotry, fear, and arrogance… the point of war, holocaust, destruction, exploitation and many other violent atrocities.  

Not. Okay.

We do not need to give that fuckery any further oxygen for the purposes of this blog.  We’ve all witnessed or even experienced horrors in the name of religious ideologies.  If you are reading this, I suspect you are as deeply and decidedly disgusted by all of that as most rational people are.

Goodness – Across All Beliefs Can Look Something Like This

It is encouraging to hold tight to the hope that most people are actually good.  Some are REALLY fucking good.  I hope you know some of these people.  Regardless of their spiritual or religious beliefs and ideologies they do tend to exhibit the following attributes:

  • Not judgmental.  If they do form ideas and opinions they are based more on fact and tacit observation than conjecture or hearsay. These are the kind of people who either innately or academically understand the complex trappings of cognitive bias and guard themselves from falling down rabbit holes or believing in rumours or conjecture.  They lean frequently toward hoping people and situations are either positive or, at least benign and do not tend to be involved with or fall prey to catastrophizing or scandal.
  • Honest. Being honest in a world so loaded with pretty little and horrifically huge lies and conjecture is an impressive act of integrity indeed.  The truth is not always easy or convenient or fun, and choosing the truth for yourself and insisting on a level of honesty in others may end in some level of isolation when we are fed so many lies. When you are consistently honest and actively choose not to engage with lies and scandals the people who are drawn to you will almost certainly be good people.  Lies can be fun to some, but honesty plays the long game and is a brave and important choice indeed.
  • Connected.  People who passionately and tireless contribute and create are very fucking cool. Connection and encouragement in our immediate environment, communities and in the cosmos is inevitable.  We are all connected whether we like and/or admit it or not.  Choosing to be a conduit of connection, safety, scaffolding, security, and strength makes every connection through the universe stronger.  Choosing to sever or destroy weakens shit. There’s physics principles that back that shit up, but it’s bigger and more fruity and spiritual than that too. You needn’t be an influencer or leader to be a conduit for creativity and connection, you just have to invite the right people and energy in and share strengthened connection if/when and how you feel safe doing so.  That’s connection.  You know it when you are building them.  And it feels great.
  • Empathetic.  Really good humans can place themselves in others’ shoes and generally and genuinely DO NOT enjoy others’ pain or struggles.  They can also actively and genuinely get off-the-chain excited to see someone else shine.
  • Generous.  Generosity shows up in many different ways.  For example, someone who may be quite frugal with cash and resources yet still munificent with time, encouragement or sharing knowledge or networks, is still absolutely generous.  Humans will guard or restrict different things for different reasons, yet generosity is a clear and consistent belief held by some lovely people that they are made richer, wiser and better through sharing with the world around them.  It is by giving that they receive and it is a beautiful thing.
  • Curious.  Don’t you just find people who are genuinely curious about things absolutely delicious for your spirit and mind?  People who geek out together fill me with hope and joy.  People who seek knowledge and understanding and don’t act as though they know everything are proper spiritually fit IMHO.  When folks want to know how and why things are the way they are and are willing to change opinions… well they are pretty great I reckon.  People who crave information or connection for self-serving purposes rather than curiosity lack that magic.  
  • Hopeful.  Eeyore is who he is, and his schtick is to always assume the worst to avoid disappointment.  There’s something beautiful and quaint about him and people like him, but there’s something contagious about both hopeful optimism and defeatist pessimism.  People who have a knack of seeing problems as opportunities and failures as learnings, well those people are yummy and I am always drawn to them and their magic.
  • Joyful.  Laughter and lightening up situations is not always appropriate.  We all run out of joy and need to embrace shadows sometimes.  But let’s face it, someone who is inclined to actually glimmer and pulsate with joy and wonder will infect every living thing around them when they let that joy just explode.  Think about how you feel watching soppy joyful proposal videos or being at a really great wedding where the couple exude a huge and inclusive bubble of delight and promise.  That shit is real and some people are just really good at amplifying it in all kinds of situations.
  • Fun.  Life can and should be fun sometimes.  People who allow and encourage themselves and others to have fun are great.
  • Authentic.  Real tears.  Real anger.  Real sadness.  Real joy.  Really real good days and bad ones too. Someone who trusts and respects me enough to cancel a plan or show up and be a grump if that’s what they need is a person I can cherish.  
  • Vulnerable.  People who try to appear infallible or hope to exude a sense that they know more, or are in any way better than others are exhausting and boring.  We are all seriously fucking complicated, scary, and messy.  Being able to admit mistakes and actively strut their bravery through vulnerability are my kind of people.  We all fuck up, we all shine sometimes.  It’s part of the journey.  The right people will respect and protect your vulnerability and the wrong ones will have their karma if they kick someone when they are down.  We’re more alike than we think, and being vulnerable is an incredibly unifying force.
  • Self-Aware.  As the beloved goddess Maya Angelou said:  “Do the best you can with what you know.  Then, when you know better, do better.”  People who actively want to be a better version of themselves and try to understand how and why they go through the world and how that affects others are magical creatures indeed.  Radical responsibility for our own actions is hard and we all have to face some ugly shit about ourselves from time to time.  It is a journey well worth taking though.
  • Brave – This is a big one.  I believe that holding true to your core spiritual beliefs no matter what they are is already an act of bravery these days.  Whatever your faith or even if you choose not to observe any faith and prefer an Athiest perspective, you will be judged by many (probably most) and welcomed by some and shunned by others.  People who are truly secure in themselves and their spiritual journey will not see different ideas or beliefs as a threat.  Being brave spiritually runs in both directions.  You must bravely nurture and evolve in your own knowledge and faith.  Equally as important – you really ought to be able to both leave others to their own spiritual journey and wish them well, but also to be willing to share and amplify your own knowledge and experience if people come to you for guidance.  

So Why Choose to be Witchy?

Oh my… so many reasons.  I have always been a witch. I have always had witchy sense (intuition) and a marked track record for manifesting.  This, I think, is a whole new blog for a whole new day and I am tired of writing so suspect you are tired of reading.

Guess the main reasons I will expand upon if you care to hear are this:

  1. It is a faith/practice deeply steeped in honouring feminine energy and power
  2. It freaks out the right kind of people who really wouldn’t enjoy me or my energy very much anyway, so that’s pretty cool
  3. There is a foundational belief in my personal practice that we are all connected in the web of life.  I mean ALL.  Every living thing, every element, every action and intent is flowing through the universe and to harm anyone or anything is to harm ourselves.
  4. I like what many would identify as witchy aesthetic, always have.
  5. CANDLES!  Gosh I have never had so many candles in my life as this past five years and I am certain I am happier for it.
  6. Nature/The Oracle are my guides (what other religions call God or Allah or the Great Spaghetti Monster etc.)
  7. Being accused of being a witch was (and possibly is) a very bad thing to some scary main-stream, fascist, and misogynistic and dangerous components of society.  I guess I’d much rather be considered “bad” for being kind, curious, inclusive, a lightening rod for diversity and hope, and connected to nature and an intelligent and encouraging community.  I am okay being bad to people who are acting deplorably in a world that craves healing and connection.  I know I am not perfect, but I know I am good.  Being a witch is a flag I fly to signal that to the world around me.
  8. And finally, and perhaps most importantly, I believe in magic.

Toiled Delightfully Through Tuesday

Bright Sides Glimmering Everywhere – Despite or Perhaps Because of My Raging ADHD?

So I have been known to create my own crisis/tension from time to time as this state is where my neuro-divergent self seriously gets shining…

Think I will start by saying thanks to you Wickedly Wonderful Witches who slipped into my DMs today.  And the lovely, patient women who keep in contact through the years on social media or IRL. My Coven really delivered some serious safe and magical vibes as I bopped around the city not doing the things I ought to be doing.

Today was a Tuesday.  

Day started a bit wobbly… I am feeling like an asshole because I am overdue for uploading/sharing the top ten for the photo comp I ran (rather successfully might I add!) in April.

I am so bad at deadlines.  So. Fucking. Unbelievably bad.  

HOWEVER…

Avoiding doing things I ought to be doing has always been a magical wonderland where I am a fucking weapon at doing other, unrelated tasks.  

Today I was a machine.  

Arranged house-sitting and childcare situation for the month of November.  The cat and our house are going to be absolutely pampered while Damon and I are pinching ourselves hiking through the Himalayas in the private and mysterious Kingdom of Bhutan. 

Op-shopped up a storm and scored a bunch of bargains at the Habitat for Humanity store in Wairau.  I picked up a proper (slightly scuffed but fit a treat) pair of Christian Loubouton sparkly heels.  I will likely never own another pair, and these were a proper Cinderella moment.  Ridiculous amount of money, but I am frugal as fuck with the shoe situation most of the time, and the money goes to a charity I actually admire, so… WINNING!  

I also found a delightful designer bag for one of my besties who just got a new job and needs to slay all day while she is well on her way.  

I’ve also been manifesting the perfect rain jacket and asking the Oracle to help me find this elusive item.  Today, she delivered and I got a shiny/sparkly deep red rain jacket that fit me beautifully for a cool $20.  I am gonna wear the absolute SHIT out of this jacket.  It is perfect.

Surprise! It’s Red…

Long luxurious chats with a few of my fave goddesses about serious witchy life stuff on the DMs all day.  It’s all proper private chatham house rules topics so I won’t share cause it’s none-o-yo-b’ness… suffice to say the synchronicity between us was and is kinda exquisite.  I don’t have many friends at this stage of my journey, but I sure do Love and appreciate the handful that have held on and proven they are trustworthy and true.  

Also went in to renew Registration on our teeny tiny city sized i3.  That’s an electric car for those who don’t recognise the term i3.  Her name is D33M0N – which is of course my name and my wife’s name squished together.  DEE and daMON –  and it’s also the name of our growing and UNBELIEVABLY fun and rewarding company.  Gonna be a hot minute before the place is humming along in profitability zone without us, but it is an absolute joy most of the time.  Wish everyone could Love their job as much as we do the farm and the eco-retreat. There would be no war, no crime, everyone would just be chill hanging with their chickens and listening to the bananas grow.  Or whatever version of that fills them with as much joy as our tiny slice of paradise brings us and our team.

Paid the RUC’s (Road User Charges) for both D33M0N and LOLGAS.  $743 for 10,000km for those who were wondering what the chargers are.  I do not mind paying road user charges but I do vehemently resent paying the same amount as planet fucking, particulate matter spewing diesel disasters are charged.  That is some serious bullshit right there, and exactly the kind of inane and completely ill-advised bollocks I have come to expect from our current cluster fuck of a political administration.  Truly confounding.  

Ordered three cheapo pairs of spectacles from Oscar Wylee (3 pairs $300… the rate at which I lose glasses I cannot justify spending more).

Got call from school nurse Steph’s still not feeling great and today was her fourth day off school.  The school nurse was a sweetheart and agreed Princess Stephanie needs another day to rest tomorrow.  This feels pretty okay considering she’s got most of the years required credits (with excellence) and is already applying for universities here, in Australia and Canada.

Organised THREE belated birthday dinners out this week and next.  Have also committed to doing some weird early morning exercise situation in Matakana with Sarah on Monday morning first thing.  Oracle preserve me I am a little scared!

Shopped for groceries, popped dinner on (roast chicken marinated overnight in oat milk and herbs and spices, highly HIGHLY recommend this recipe… so tender!), video call with the chair of my trust (an elusive but utterly divine goddess… sadly our paths won’t cross now until July as we are all so freaking busy!) 

Fed kids, admired our array of happy healthy pot plants (I never had a tidy, safe, calm home or pot plants ever in my life until I moved in with my domestic goddess wife), and was curled up in my jammies by 6:30pm.

AND THEN…

I wrote this blog.

Had no idea what an incredibly busy (and actually painfully expensive thanks to licensing and registration fees) and pleasantly productive day I had until I started writing.

Damon in his super cool 90s sweater

And how utterly blessed I feel to be surrounded by a safe, warm, calm environment.  My joy tonight was bubbling over as I chatted with happy, funny, open, and grateful kids.  Gosh they are far more settled and self-refelctive than I was at their ages.  Perhaps even more than I am now.  

Then came the obligatory pats for our needy three-legged rescue cat.  His name is Benedict Cumbercat and he is actually a total asshole but we adore him.  Tonight also saw me swept up in a moment where I very nearly wept with joy surveying our warm tidy living room full of healthy pot plants and witchy herbs thriving in their eclectic pots I have collected through op-shopping expeditions.

My delight dill!!!
In bed by 6:30 ftw 🙌

Not even a fraction of these rather wonderful things would have happened today if I wasn’t well and truly tied up in absolute knots about my earth day photo competition dilemma.  I must honour those who entered and share the finalists.  And I will.  And it will feel pretty good I hope.

But, for now, I’m just going to tuck in my ten year old and then slip off into a peaceful slumber thinking about all the big and little things that made today rather magical.

Just Keen to be Kinda Grouchy – It’s Tradition

Birthdays are definitely not my fave. Well, mine is not. Other people who like their birthday are pretty cute and it is lovely to see people happy, as joy is fleeting for all of us. Glimmers of hope and contentedness are really important and I eat them up whenever they present themselves. My birthday though. Just ick.

My poor, lovely, dedicated, doting, adoring, beautiful wife Damon is confused and uncomfortable watching me do my annual dance of moody mumbling and feeling angry and sorry for myself on the 28th of April.

Last year we got stuck in a fierce storm with sideways rain and huge gusts of wind on a four hour walk in a national park in Tasmania. That whole scene suited my mood and being out in the forest with wombats and wild weather was actually really great.

Getting older is also something I consider quite fantastic. The number of fucks given about what people think of me or do with their own lives is pretty minimal. I still have the time, energy and inclination to champion and cheer for brave, lovely, wonderful humans I am lucky enough to have crossed paths with. Generally though, I really prefer to be left the fuck alone the majority of the time. People are lovely, but complicated and difficult and I don’t understand most people or what they do or why they do it.

So moving into this my 46th year, I am poised on the precipice of some pretty major decisions that are being made without my input, guidance or approval. That’s probably the case for most humans in the Western world. SO much shit is just completely out of our control. That means it is important and empowering to own and manage the shit we do have control over.

For me, it is to whom and how I devote time and energy. Turns out, I really like seeing people evolve and be brave and feel empowered. I also like getting the fuck out of their way and letting them shine. This year, I particularly like giving people money or opportunities for doing brave and creative stuff. That manifests in art or endeavours we purchase, fund, pay for or commission. It has also culminated in creative competitions we fund, projects and improvements on the farm and doing our level best to be fair and reasonable with our contractors and employees, and any range of anonymous support we give to friends and strangers as we meander through our lives. I can’t fix the world, but I can encourage people to be brave enough to fly or fail and cheer them on and hold them gently when they get the wobbles while they are in my orbit.

I have also learned, the hard way, that trying to help or sticking my neck out can backfire spectacularly and it is not my job to make people be better or kinder and I cannot rescue anyone. People have to rescue themselves. I can be supportive and gentle in people’s most vulnerable moments if I am in their orbit, and it is an honour and privilege to try to be that softness in a very tough world to some people at some points. But, it’s forever nagging at me in moments of kindness and vulnerability that I’ve been the bitten hand that feeds far too many horrible humans. So, mostly I try my best and keep myself to myself and that’s working out pretty well.

I like me. I am funny, loyal, adventurous, encouraging and try to be honest with myself and others. And generally, I do my level best to not be a nasty, evil, opportunistic or greedy piece of shit in a world where horribleness seems to be thriving. The world makes me sad and tired a lot. But there’s also so much magic and mayhem and wonder and I am here for all of that. But I need long and luxurious periods without having to deal with people because people have been plenty awful in my experience, and I don’t have the bandwidth to fuck around and find out anymore.

So today, all I care to do is meander around the city of Sydney, as this is where we chose to come to hide away as tourists for my 46th birthday.

Also, today we have chosen three more spot prizes for the creative content competition we launched at the beginning of April. Honouring the submissions and sharing the top ten is something that is turning out to be a mountain of work, and it is yet to be determined if it is a worthy endeavour that we intend to grow/continue next year.

I need to launch and protect my plans for the Persephone Foundation, which will be a fully self-funded attempt to empower and encourage women to sparkle and Love themselves through this crazy fucked up ride that is life. Not a charity, but a legacy. And a continuation of work I have been doing and flying or failing at for as long as I can remember. I have a compulsion to help. But the need for self preservation can make helping a complicated and harrowing proposition at times – well at least for me.

Who knows how many more turns around the sun any of us have left? Indeed who even knows what tomorrow has in store for us as individuals or humanity in general! I am tired just thinking about all the things that are wrong with me and the world right now, but absolutely amped to be alive and living, breathing, laughing, crying, failing, trying, traveling, eating, meeting and just all the magical and mundane things that make up my incredible life. Therein lies the great paradox of my existence presently – which may partly explain my fascination with the Greek Goddess Persephone. Dragged to the underworld by her overly enthusiastic Uncle Hades, Persephone lived both between the underworld and the light as the Goddess of Harvest and Fertility. Half the time she lived in light and abundance, the rest of the time she spent with the dead. Somehow she made both these existences work for her and ended up being greatly loved and appreciated within the Greek Mytholical canon. Quite a paradoxical figure indeed.

I’m not actually comparing myself with Persephone, but I can relate. Indeed so many times, including 8 years ago, and then again 6 years ago on this exact day, my only wish was to disappear in very real and permanent terms. I smiled through incredible and relentless pain and suffering and lived a life posting highlight reels and great pictures of my completely fucking broken damned self. I was openly and readily available to be thrown under any bus and exploited by any opportunistic piece of shit who crossed my path. Seeing the best in everyone and desperately seeking validation broke me and I’ll never feel safe or trust anyone the way I once did after being kicked so many times when I was down.

But I got back up. And I hope the same for everyone and anyone else. Not just people I like, I seriously wish growth and greatness for people who have pissed me off. Just need the to be a safe and considerable distance from me and my safe and happy life while they learn their lessons and grow into better people. Nobody gets a second chance to truly piss me off. But I don’t wish anyone harm and I’ll never engage in revenge or enjoy another person’s suffering. Wait… sometimes when karma hits someone who has been a proper piece of shit, it does feel pretty okay from a safe distance to see that all happen. Nothing too nasty though.

Today, I am just so grateful to be free from the relentless sadness of trying my best to protect and please a pack of truly awful people who ought to have appreciated and protected me. Today toxic people and situations are kicked to the curb and not many people have access to me and that has allowed me to feel safe and empowered. I don’t know where you are while you read this, but if you are good, keep that shit up. If you are struggling, keep going. I don’t know much, but I do know that everything, even incredible pain does end, and being on the other side of suffering, whatever the cause, is a bittersweet but brilliant peace. I wish you peace and glimmers of hope and joy today and every day. And I wish the same for my imperfect but optimistic and ageing self. And like Persephone, whether you feel you are in a cycle of being in the underworld or the light – may you make that work and take what you need to be the best version of you you can be.

Thanks for reading.

The Oracle Knows

The concept of God or the Universe is given different words and paradigms by different people and spiritual paths.  I refer to the cosmic and connected sentience and balance as the Oracle.  My spiritual path is, and probably always has been witchcraft.  All that means is I honour and acknolwdge the natural world and believe we are all connected in the web of life.  If I harm anything I am harming myself.  If I help I am helping myself.  There’s far more meaningful and nuanced aspects to this journey, but I feel that’s a pretty good summary for now.

Unforunately, for me and so many people, helping has appeared to backfire disastrously. Holding out many a ladder and lifting a lot of people up in the past didn’t always turn out as planned.  Some of them kicked me square in the cunt and left me wounded and angry and wondering how anyone could be so mercenary and cruel.  

But every single situation like that has somehow left me later realizing my feet were firmly on safe and secure ground.  The Oracle’s lessons aren’t always fun or fair, but often feel very helpful when time and healing have allowed me to process situations.  From that vantage and a very safe and large distance, I’ve seen many perpetrators struggle and suffer in circles of greed and self-sabotage.  We’re all given choices, and greedy, cruel, callous, mercenary people may appear to do alright, but they take what they want and they will be forced to pay eventually.

I just want to be a consistently good person with an acutely well calibrated moral compass.  My spiritual journey as a practicing witch helps me with that, but it definitely does not define me as some people’s religions do.

Today was filled with glimmers and magic and goddess ferocity.  The Oracle blesses me with days like today.

Where to begin?

Penny has been working with us for a good many months now, and is our first official full time team member.  We’ve had our bumps and wobbles, but all in all we’re on an excellent path together and the mahi (that means work for my non-kiwi readers) she has done has transformed the farm.  

Penny is a qualified Rongoa practitioner.  We are working together to get her practice up and running and lift her to the entrepreneurial goddess level she really does have every inch of capacity to be.  She is smart, intuitive, creative, fierce, and has been knocked around enough to know exactly what is what.  Like every woman in my life, she hasn’t yet fully stepped into her own power.  Confidence is an issue for most of us, and it is my absolute modus operandi to change that, for myself and my coven.  This is our time to shine.  We gotta step into the “fuck around and find out” phase and know that we are fierce and powerful and our work and contributions have real and meaningful worth.  It is a journey we are on together.

I’ve also just returned from Rakiura.  It is a the anchor in the Maori creationist legends.  As any Kiwi knows, Maui and his brothers were in their great waka (canoe) when they fished up the North Island of Aotearoa, and the anchor to that vessel is/was Rakiura.  

We are drawn to that magical little island every year.  Granted, so are about 40,000 other people, most of whom do the three day Rakiura trek.  Maybe one day we will do that.  I kinda doubt it though.  

We first arrived there around this time of year, back in 2019 or 2020?  The place got into our bones.  There is no room for pretentiousness or flexing, it is a rough and wild and incredibly unique place where manuhiri (visitors) have to figure out the nuances and be chill or you’ll have a pretty shitty time there.  If you want five-star obsequiousness, just stay away.  Rakiura residents do not kiss anyone’s ass.  Fucking great actually.

We literally stumbled across a local who would end up becoming a very close friend on our second trip to the island some years ago.  She’s an artist and a goddess and a really great mom.  I just found out this visit that her mother was called back to the great unknown where we are all beckoned to from the moment we arrive.  She left quite suddenly only a few years ago in the month of April.  I can tell you with certaintly that her mother’s energy and Love led me down that road and to her gallery.  While I can’t quantify or qualify that statement, I know that divine feminine energy landed us there.  We needed to meet and are both much better off because we did.  I might share more of that magical story another day, but I will leave that vague and mysterious.

And last, but not least, I finished today’s divine feminine reinforcing journey with a totally impromptu dinner with my Megan.  This is a woman I met at the hair-dresser some number of years back.  I pointed her to my blog, and over the course of a few weeks, we became online then IRL friends.  

These days, her and the irrepressible Hannah are the two women I see the most as we have a habit of making each other a priority.  It was all very organic an holistic in its evolution.  I have known Hannah rather peripherally since the mid 1990’s.  Megan joined us for something at some point and the three of us were a strangely lovely fit.  You’d never think that we would be on the surface.  But all three of us are deeply disappointed with most people and prefer to slay all day and then retreat to the safety of our own four walls and be left well and truly the fuck alone.  Yet, together we seems to lift each other up.  It is safe, it is authentic and it is easy.  

So, Megan had a great week a couple of weeks ago and it all came crashing down and her perky has pissed off.  She reached out, and all other things were not as important as us catching up for a good old bitch and a moan pretty much immediately.  So off to dinner we went.  Damon joined us at the very end so we had a solid hour to ourselves which was lovely and we laughed and laughed as we always do.  Damon is often/always allowed at girl time as he is an honourary goddess and my beautiful wife.   

Damon and I also have a shared best friend who has an anaphylactic allergy to the spotlight and attention.  She knows who she is, and we three are destined to grow old dottering around making the world a slightly better place together.  She already has a solid strategy she’s been perfecting and that will be rolled out in the years ahead.  I won’t tell you her name, as she doesn’t like people talking about her, but she knows who she is.  

The whole day has also been punctuated with a running dialogue between Auriga and me on the dms. We met when Mel and I facilitated a break out group at a UN women’s leadership thing. And I popped in to be reminded that Emma was in England having a magic time. And Karen is coming for coffee on Friday morning. All wonderful witchy women, and a handful of many fierce fabulous goddesses I am blessed to know and trust.

So that was my Tuesday the 16th of April 2024.  Surrounded by fierce feminine energy and protection and lifted to a lovely level of feeling like I am finally safe and on the right path.

Whatever kind of day/week/month/year you are having, I hope you hold on tight and know that darkness fades and light and clarity come when we are kind and consistent.  It doesn’t feel like it sometimes.  

But the Oracle knows.

Thanks for reading.

Rakiura Reflections

This is our fourth, possibly fifth visit to New Zealand’s most remote and Southern island.  A village called Oban sits nestled in Paterson inlet on a beach/bay called Half Moon bay.  There’s about 400 permanent residents on the island, and they definitely all know each other.  That number would include the semi-seasonal travelers who come here to work with RealNZ tour company or score am job at the South Seas hotel for a season.

We brought my youngest son Jamie with us this time.  He will be ten in a couple of weeks. He’s had significantly reduced screen time and a marked increase in time with nature and playing happily on his own at the beach.  This a safe and lovely island where nobody drives more than 50km per hour and people look out for eachother, so we’ve felt confident allowing Jamie to venture down to the beach on his own to build his fortresses along the shoreline.  

This is a wild and often windy/grey island.  It is as far South as you can go in the archipelago of Aotearoa, but still two or more degrees closer to the equator than the vast majority of my country of birth, Canada.  Canada exists almost exclusively above the 49th parallel.  Being here has whet my appetite to disappear into the Canadian Tundra or melt away into obscurity in the Maritimes maybe.  We’d planned to purchase a plot of land and do a biodiversity/eco-tourism project in alignment with the work we are doing in Matkaana. Alas that plot seems to have been sold before we were in a position to purchase, so the oracle is steering our sites North rather than here it seems. And that’s okay. 

We will likely always return to this island regardless of having a project here or not.

The silence and birdsong here is somehow addictive.  The sound of wild kiwi and ruru at night is flanked by the sound of waves lapping on the shore, raindrops in the forest canopy, and deafening silence devoid of human technologies whirring or intrusiveness.  It sends you a little loopy at first, and then there’s a clarity that comes on the third or fourth day here, and the prospect of returning to my high-flying and undeniably stressful existence quite frankly pisses me off.

I like the quiet.  I like being far away from the people and things that annoy me.  Birdsong and crystal clear water feels much better to my weary soul than forecasts, projections, people (including myself) missing deadlines and not hitting targets, or boring insecure assholes showing ineptitude and hubris.  I am so sick of all that shit.  

Lately, I find people are mostly incredibly disappointing.  I’d say that the exceptions to this are my large community of kind and curious people, and of course, the team we have working at the farm.  Our farm team are a motley but magnificent crew indeed.  We’ve seen so much growth across the infrastructure, eco-tourism offering and plantings.  Growing confidence and competencies among the individuals who are involved has also been a joy to behold.  That includes me.  I have a heap to learn about regenerative agriculture and Rongoa still, but it has been an honour and privilege to get this far over the past five years.  I cannot understand why more teams can’t manage to be as clearly meaningfully impactful on other projects.  People seem unwilling to look at themselves or share spotlights, and that seems to be where the trouble lies. Just an observation…

So, back here to Rakliura and the present moment as I write this blog.

As is often the case when we travel the South Island, Damon is related to some of the residents here.  Although not as strong a connection as happens on the West Coast, where even the name Birchfield strikes fear or excitement into the hearts of many local who realizes you are related.  The Birchfield clan are quite famous, or infamous, depending on who you ask.  

Here, however, we are wedded to this island through my father-in-law’s elegant and very charming wife Jen.  Jen’s daughter was adopted, as it was a time when that is what you did if you were a young unwed mother, and she was welcomed into the Leask family fold as a baby and spent a lot of her childhood here in Rakiura in Leask bay.  Jen is incredibly close to her daughter who I believe lives in Invercargill and still has firm ties to the island.  

Aotearoa.  None degrees of separation it seems.  We are all very much connected.

After many visits to the island I have only one true friend here.  An elegant, kind, brilliant artist named Rebecca.  She’s very Southern in her humility and pragmatic approach. Fierce but gentle is the sense that I get, and a very talented artist as well. She has a beautiful family and a very lucky husband.  I finally met him this visit which was a lovely added bonus to our trip.  

What a different life they lead in a village of 400 people on Rakiura. They fish and forage and grow and preserve and are undoubtedly causing a fraction of the carbon footprint our international adventures are polluting this already stretched to her limit planet. They are closer to nature and the ocean and probably better humans compared to the busy, bustling, frequent flying life Damon and I whip around living.  My annual visit to see Rebecca is always a highlight of my year.  I’m not recruiting for any more friends, but feel quite lucky to count her among the few that I have and cherish.

Our time here is drawing to a close and we are heading back to Invercargill on a 8:30am flight tomorrow morning.  

Mixed feelings.  I feel we need to put together a decent post about the weird things that happen in our heads when we are here, and the amazing natural encounters we keep returning to the island to enjoy.  

But for now will just post this pithy little reflection on our time here.

Hope you are having a lovely week, whatever you are up to.  

Thanks for reading.

Take Your Stephanie To Work Tuesday

Heading up to the farm shortly and meeting my darling daughter and her very unproblematic and pleasant partner there. We shall turn over the tent and do some gardening. It’s looking great up there. I’ll try and do a little video, not that much (any) of my content ever blows up or even makes it to most people’s feeds these days (thanks boring pay to play algorithms… fuckers…)

It’s going to be a busy month. I’ve been doing my best to mo the shit out of the kids when they are with us, and for the most part these efforts have been noticed and appreciated. My daughter is particularly pleased with me momming the fuck up and being a consistent and authentic force in her whirlwind busy life. That girl is a force of nature. She works nearly full time and pulls top grades while maintaining what appears to be a healthy functional first romantic relationship and close social ties. Basically, the girl has eclipsed her mother as a functioning human on most measures and that’s fine by me. Very proud of our brilliantly bossy princess. She suffers no fools and knows what she wants. I only figured that shit out after 40. Sigh.

Darling daughter and the rest of the kids are due back at the city house for their fortnightly rotation with Damon and I from Saturday this weekend. We, however, will be in the South Island with Jamie for his annual adventure into nature.

So my fierce and fabulous stepdaughter Niko will be moving in with the big kids from the weekend through until the Friday we return from our South Island adventures.

Today, though, it is all about Steph.

We are going to garden and enjoy the farm. I will share our adventures probably.

Secluded?  Reclusive?  Deluded? Maybe We’re Just content.

I have become very dear friends with a growing number of goddesses who are quite frankly, and very reasonably, sick of everyone’s shit.  

In many cases it is women (like my own damn self) who spent their 20’s and 30’s “hustling” and burning that candle at both ends. Women out there doing whatever they had to do to juggle the utterly unobtainable and completely fabricated fairytale of “having it all”. What even is “IT” anyway? We were spoon fed this nonsense, and it is clearly is a myth. Nobody can have it all. Where would you put it? Let’s give the concept of all the heave ho and replace it with enough. Enough is achievable, and enough starts with falling in Love with our own magical damned selves.  Yet there we were, people pleasing, keeping the peace, being all things to everyone all the time.  Oof.  It was a lot.  And so many of us got stuck in that lane.

We are tired.  Most of us really prefer our own company these days, and if we are going to venture outside of the safety of our nests it better be for the sake of something truly magical.

We come in all shapes, sizes and all have our own unique path that led us to enjoying our own company so deeply and decidedly over most other options.  Some played a straight bat and did absolutely everything they thought they ought to be doing for most of their lives.  Others lived with brains and bodies drenched in cortisol as they were stuck in survival mode.  Many women cram their mental, physical, and/or neurological transmission into that survival mode gear thinking it will be temporary.  A deeply life altering death, a natural or financial disaster stripping them of their home or foundations, escaping an insidiously abusive and toxic relationship and needing to start over, unforeseen and major shifts in the circumstances stripping their security, a massive health issue or addiction… whatever the thing that shakes them, these women stay so strong for too fucking long.  When they come out the other side, they are often tired and perhaps a bit jaded.  A reasonable outcome after pushing through the quagmires and battlefields of their lives.  So.  You better respect that and bring the magic if you pull them away from their solitude and safety.  I mean this.  Bring the magic or let them stay home with the cat, a cuppa, and their cosy murder mysteries.

I guess people almost always have breakthrough or rock bottom moment before they are able to mic drop and start their healing journey and find comfort and luxuriate in at least some level solitude.    Many of us used to seek distraction and validation, something somewhere shifts for so many of us though.  

I suppose sometime people also hit the absolute top of their game and acquire all the points you’d think anyone would need to clock the scoreboard of life, but the view from the summit just causes something in some divine goddesses core to go “WTF! I don’t gotta be a part of this dumpster fire any longer!” and off they fuck to live happily ever after in relative solitude as they delight in obscurity and seek meaningful and magical moments and give not a single fuck what anyone might think about them as they forge that path in whatever way they decide works for them.

Whatever the hustle, or struggle, or survival story that forges these fed-up women I currently know (and admire, and seldom see IRL but deeply Love) was, we all have one thing in common:  We do not want to leave the safety and comfort of our hearth and home unless there’s something truly glimmering and magnificent that will fill up our cup or cauldron to persuade us out that door.  I have a handful of friends who can lure me out of my cave, and travel and the farm will almost always get me up and ‘attem, and everyone has different joyful distractions that will kick them into “get up and get some shit done” gear.  I think we just aren’t wasting that energy on ungrateful people or unreasonable expectations anymore.  I like this about us.

Relentless pursuit of trying to “have it all” doesn’t really seem to turn out well.  So I would suggest we can all put that square in the fuck it bucket.

Think about those shiny celebrities and influencers we seem to admire don’t have the luxury and freedom of anonymity.  Women who own/run their own businesses often do not have the option to take regular scheduled holidays or a break when they need to if they want to pay their bills or keep their brand built to a functioning level.  Women juggling family and a career are always fucking exhausted, yes, always.  Single parents frequently do not have the time, space or emotional bandwidth to date.  But each of these situations, and any number of other scenarios has its own unique silver lining that can only be seen but the person experiencing the cloud.  

Deciding to feel happy with oneself, provided the fundamental needs of food shelter and safety are met, is a pretty great level to hit, and it feels like we all had to go through a great deal of learning, winning, losing, hope and disappointment to arrive at the point where we kinda like our own company for real.  Exhaustion and being massively misunderstood most of our lives has made many a magnificent woman retreat to the safety of her own little bubble, to read, craft, create or just savor her own sweet company and spend the day however she’d fucking like to.  

What even is “IT” anyway?  That Barbie Movie monologue went a long way to shedding light on the fact that as a woman (in the Western World, I’ll qualify, as that’s my sphere of reference) you are pretty much damned if you do, damned if you don’t. So it is okay to don’t sometimes I suggest.

So many of us are pretty angry and tired at this point.

What I have noticed over the past five fabulous years is this:  

My comfort with solitude and serenity is consistently punctuated by the clarity of generally and genuinely not giving a single last flying fuckeroo about what other people do, or what they say about me, or so many other things that used to vex me.  I don’t’ just not mind if people don’t like me, I delight in being judged, because wtf who has time for that shit?  Go ahead and waste your brain power and energy having a problem with how I live my life, that’s cool.  I am happy as a pig in mud most of the time, and almost certainly never give a second thought about what other people are doing. My fucks kick back in when we are working on something cool together, or I need to go into protect my friends and family from dumbassery mode.  I give many fucks about protecting and championing my important people and their passions. And if anyone threatens us or pulls out bullshit bully tactics that are dangerous or destructive, my mean side will still show up. When shit gets real I give all the fucks.  Because we are making magic, not being judgemental boring or vapid.  We are crones with clearly defined boundaries and we make magical things happen in this weary world.

So while most of us likely won’t opt for full-fledged shut-in status in the immediate or forseeable future. I suspect, and have observed, more and more of us are leaning comfortably into the joy of our own company.  There comes a point in many women’s lives, when the kids are getting independent and our careers have come to a point we can seriously start thinking about cashing in chips and downsizing our homes to seek an new trajectory or perhaps travel and adventure (with or without a partner, depending on choice and circumstance) and it is such a privilege to be watching us all find ourselves and grow into magical beings… who often just want to be left alone.  And that’s okay.

Thanks for Reading.

If Pain is a Gift, Today I am Blessed

On Friday last week I stayed in bed most of the day after my social battery went totally flat after we attended a beautiful send off for Damon’s uncle David at the glorious goddess Auntie Ingrid’s home.  I am a big fan of Auntie Ingrid and had a lovely time laughing with Damon’s niece, his delightful dad, and some friends and neighbours as well.  Also got to catch up with Cousin Emma who is here from Boston, and of course my irrepressible and decidedly delightful mother in law Pamela.  Her brother David completely changed the face of the music and broadcasting industries in Aotearoa, and he was much loved and well-respected pain in the ass according to the speeches and songs shared in his honour.  A giant of a man in stature, charisma, and his indominable legacy.  

So my beautiful wife Damon and I snuggled in and had a quiet day on Friday.  I decided at some point to make myself some baked beans with melted cheese on top.  A fateful decision that would have deep and disastrous consequences.

Those scolding hot beans and the molten cheese attached themselves to the roof of my mouth and seared and sizzled and burned and bubbled.  I knew I’d fucked up immediately.  Burns are an insidious suffering and the echo of thousands of heat-related injuries flooded through my accident prone body and nervous system in a flash while this latest dipshittery occurred.

It is now a week later.  I am unable to talk or eat without pain.  A trip to the dentist confirmed the extreme nature of my injury and sprays, gargles and pain killers are keeping the pain dull enough that I can read my wonderful Barbara Kingsolver novel “Unsheltered” and pause now to write this quickfire blog. 

My life is certainly not terrible.  

When shit goes wrong, as it sometimes (often) does, I am reminded just how not terrible things are as terrible things kinda waft through my consciousness and concrete reality.  

Consciousness and concrete reality are really such small parts of the magic that is existence, but we place a great deal of focus on them.  Most states pass.  Joy and euphoria come and go, as do grief and despair, pain and pleasure.  It all wafts through and it is such a fucking incredible gift to experience it from a place where I know there is hope – after living a powerless and hopeless existence for such an incredibly long time. 

I am not powerless.  I am filled with hope.  Even bad days feel like a gift as somehow, now, that I have called back my life and my boundaries to my own self.  Lately, I am good even when things are not going great.

It’s so fucking weird and awesome.  

As is customary, Damon and I have been continuing to toil away at things we both Love, and also… manage to keep our shit together (just) when dealing with truly vile and disgusting people.  These vile creatures serve very little purpose on this planet, aside from reminding sensible/kind/curious/creative people how not to be boring, cowardly and disappointing cunts.  

The world needs these horid, boring, angry, annoying people.  The deepest frustration I have observed with them, however, is that they claw and con their way to positions of some level of power despite generally never having done anything interesting or useful.  This old boys club continues to be filled with cowards and cretins and it continues to protect itself despite clearly competent aspects of society (women, minorities, thinkers, creatives, truly competent and charismatic leaders, and even kindness in general) proving to be far better and more fun for everyone and everything involved.

Days like today remind me just how glad I am to have picked a side and sticking to it though.  I choose the planet, nature, community, tolerance, creativity, art, hope, and magic.  I do not choose, seek or condone ignorance, hate, greed, fascism or privilege.  All that nasty shit is just getting way too mainstream for my liking these days, and I will stay in my lane and actively condemn it until the last breath leaves my beautiful little body.

So, having inflicted a reasonably serious injury on myself, I just have to calmly manage the pain and let it heal.  I was not stressed out, or under the influence of any drugs or alcohol, or in any sort of hurry at all.  I just made a really poor decision and a week later I am rendered rather helpless.  Still able to function, more-or-less.  Had a typically perfect catch up with my darling low-drama-llama goddess Mel and her sparkling beam of light daughter.  And have had some b’ness meetings and strategy sessions and done a wee whisp of creative work this week as well.  But through it all there is a pain that ranges from dull and controlled by the codeine to seering and excruciating.

I don’t hate it.

Suspect that the reason why I do not hate it, despite pain being genuinely unfun, there’s a comfort associated with a small but notable injury.  This that goes beyond the fact I know it will heal and I will relish feeling fit and healthy even more after going through the motions of this recovery.  I feel grateful it was not a bigger or different injury and am more grateful for the bits of me that are working and the vessel that carries me being in reasonable order most of the time.

When I was young and living through a traumatic and hellish childhood/puberty there was plenty of self-harm and poor decisions leading to injury.  Now that I am safe and removed from toxic and abusive people… well, most of them… Even pain is not what it was when things were the way they were before.  Now I’ve successfully built boundaries and started to design a safe, private, simple and very satisfying life.  I have nothing to prove and don’t need anything from any fucker these days.  

Still, I relish honest and creative collaboration and connection with a community.  I thrive in situations with perfectly imperfect people doing their best and giving an actual authentic fuck about themselves and making the world bearable for themselves and others.  Community and connection for creation not self-interest. It’s its own kind of magic.

My friends have checked in and chided at me for what is clearly on brand – if something is worth doing it is worth OVER-doing.  My beautiful wife Damon has carried on important work at the farm and rushed home to nurse me in my invalid state.  Not that he can do much.  Poor thing.  He wants so much to be helpful.  I can’t eat and talking is a chore too, so he feels a bit helpless, but his presence is calming and there’s a tenderness that is so incredibly pure when one of a couple of lovebirds is injured or unwell.  

Nurse pickles (we are dog sitting) is very concerned and helpful during my recovery ❤️‍🩹

I guess, all I am saying, is that I feel awful, and that’s somehow making me feel decidedly blessed and it is wonderful.

My mouth will heal.  My friends are divine.  My kids are all on different and fascinating paths right now and I am so stressed out by and utterly proud of each and every one of them.  And I am safe.  I am safe from gaslighting, cruelty, or scary social climbing con-artists.  I am surrounded by people who are their authentic selves and perfectly imperfect in safe and interesting ways.  Feeling shitty never felt so good.

Have a great long weekend everyone.  

Much Love and thank you for reading.

It’s All About the Moon

If you aren’t already familiar with Regina Spektor and her kick ass song “Small Town Moon” you will need to have a listen to the song at least once for the sake of clarity and reference.

Small Town Moon

One of the many “theme songs” that have followed me from my former cluster fuck of a life into this much more livable arrangement is Regina Spektor’s “Small Town Moon”.  Some of us are the poster “that girl” from this song.  Born and raised in the sticks and surrounded by trauma and trials.  Tossed under the bus and kicked to the curb but we came out scratching and biting and, by many measures, rather successful.  

Yet, I find myself stuck, once again, in the vortex of other people’s poor choices, hubris and egoistic posturing and it is REALLY affecting me.  Who’s fault is that?  Mine.

Life’s not fair, I know this.  But underestimating the part I play in making my life an equitable and enjoyable place for me and those I choose to share my journey with has proved yet AGAIN to be problematic.  Head in sand approach has never yielded me, or, I would guess, anyone else stellar results.

So here’s a little list of witchy calls to action/signs to be aware of, based on the song, you and I might be well advised to pay attention to as we go about building our ideal existences.

  1. I Wish You Wouldn’t Have Broke My Camera

We are all kind of cameras.  We take snapshots of moments in our minds and have pictures stored up of people and places and they make an album of our understanding of the world.  This album is constantly changing and sometimes people swoop in and break the lens or make you question the pictures you have taken.  If someone is being a bully, or a pain in the ass, or gaslighting you and trying to break your camera, best to get out of that space.  I have no idea if this is the intent Regina had in this lyric, but it is my take-away and how I am framing it for this blog.

  • Everybody Not So Nice

Damn people can be terrible.  Smiling assassins and snakes in the grass will arrive in your life and you will be given the gift of learning hard lessons when they do.  Old me trusted to the point of genuine stupidity and was generous to a fault.  Today, I know my worth.  I know what I serve at my table and it is warmth, and intelligence, and support and authenticity and gosh I am super funny too.  People have to genuinely earn the right to sit at my bountiful table these days, and when they do magic happens.  Wanting to see the best in people and being a wounded healer is still okay, but my stars you have to protect yourself.  My best advice for navigating people who are cruel, manipulative, opportunistic and will cause you harm is this:  Trust but verify.  See the best in people but offer nothing and protect your privacy and integrity until you have had time to research/get to know people really well.  And just as important is trusting your instincts.

  • Today We’re Younger Than We’re Ever Gonna Be

Today is a gift.  Every day is a gift.  I am a small town moon and I have flown so far South of the horizon of the teeny tiny traumatic childhood in Tomahawk Alberta.  I can’t even comprehend how my super shitty little life was anyone’s origin story, let alone mine.  Every day is an opportunity to see farther, move with more grace, breath deeper, laugh harder, and learn.  Fear does not enter into the equation and this year alone we plan to see Bhutan, Uluru, further explore Australia and Canada and the States (before it goes full blown handmaids tale).  My beautiful wife Damon and I pursue our creative dreams and he is getting to be a pretty decent photographer and I am able to write and encourage other wonderfully witchy women to be brave and shine a light on their creative shadowlands.  None of us are getting any younger, and today is absolutely the youngest we are ever gonna be.  So do the things that scare you.  Be brave. 

  • How Can I Leave Without Hurting Everyone That Made Me

This is a phase in my life where I do not have a lot of friends.  And that is okay.  I am vehemently protective of my mental health, safety and privacy.  Okay, my children say I am absolutely ruthless. There’s still a bunch of people who I adore and admire who I don’t keep in contact with and who protected me and nurtured me through the darkest days of my life.  Here and in my childhood.  If you are reading this and think you might be one of these people and I haven’t been in touch, please do know I appreciate and adore you and have no beef. Drop me a line, I probably really miss you, just been busy rebuilding and phoenix-ing through the ashes the past few years.  This is just a cocoon phase and I am happiest in solitude after being irreparably broken by people who were charged (and failed spectacularly) with protecting/supporting me.  So, hurting some of the people who “made” you by taking the darkness they handed and turning it to light, and honouring those who have respected/honoured you, well, that’s the hope going forward.  Leave but hang on to magic and let go of toxicity.  We’ve all already left the small towns in our minds.  Time to keep moving forward.  

  • Baby Baby – It’s All About The Moon

Okay, this one is proper witchy.  Did you know that the moon is actually a chunk of us that split off after a massive collision in it’s celestial infancy.  The moon is a beautiful, shining, protective guardian that keeps earth safe and controls the tides and all the water.  The moon is a magical metaphor for what definitive moments in our formative phases can mean.  Our trauma is a part of us but separate and our experiences and challenges can also serve to protect us and be incredibly powerful.  The moon cycles and shifts between shining and shadow.  As do we.  The moon comes close and journeys farther away.  The moon is a magical and meaningful celestial body, and we are all made up of the same magical star dust.  It is a part of us and we are a part of her.  Sigh.  Gosh I do love some moon metaphor. 

Okay.  That’s today’s blog.

Have a good one.  Thanks for reading!!!!