July 19, 2017 – Pressing Pause

This is me – in 1996 on the island of Brac in Croatia, where my grandparents came from.

I started these posts more than two and a half years ago because I was challenged to.  My coach Lissa Boles challenged me to act in the face of the fears that I’d quit.  A part of me was convinced that I would write for a few weeks or months and then the energy would peter out and I’d be left with an abandoned blog online – for all the world to see that I could not stick with it.  Until two weeks ago, I’d not missed a week.  Every single Tuesday or Wednesday since October 1, 2014 I wrote something brand new for you to read.  I just counted – I’ve written 145 – one hundred and forty five – pieces of writing between 800 and 1500 words long.  I’m reminding myself of this because I’ve come to a decision that wasn’t easy.  I didn’t sleep much last night; I’ve been awake since 2:20 am – wired.  All the thoughts swirling in my head brought me to the conclusion that what’s needed is for me to press pause on posting for a little while.  Here’s why…

It was two weeks ago when the signs first started showing themselves.  We were just back from a wonderfully rich time in Europe with my family and even though I was terribly jet lagged, I hit the ground running.  The week before last, when I first skipped a week writing, I spent the day clearing out the garage and emptying out all the kitchen cabinets.  A remodel of our kitchen was starting the following Monday.  During the weekend that I taught a color workshop, Joe and I finished setting up temporary kitchen facilities in the garage (pantry and sink), side yard, (barbeque, camping stove and pots and pans) and in the dining room (refrigerator, coffee maker, microwave, dishes, silverware and a few things we could use for food prep).  I’m a cook and the kitchen is the place where I re-find my center.  My motto is “when in doubt, cook” and my car happily displays a “Feed People, Cook them Tasty Food” bumper sticker from Penzey’s spices.  We are making do with our temporary setup; we’ve not eaten out yet in the week and a half since construction started.  But without my kitchen-home, I’m just not the same.

Then there are the fleas.  Yes, we have fleas.  We came home to a front yard completely infested with them – likely delivered by a wild critter that had been living in our tree.  Our big black lab Bo had no fleas – until he came home from doggy camp.  Though we made the effort to keep him away from the fleas, and though he has flea medicine in him, and though I’ve bathed him every few days – he has brought them in the house.  I’ve had two fleas crawling out from my hair onto my face in the last two weeks.  Joe is dumping everything he can on the front yard – everything that won’t kill honeybees – Borax, diatomaceous earth, orange oil, rosemary oil – and he has drastically reduced their population, but there are still a few here and there.  As we continue to vacuum and spray orange oil in the house, I still have every little tickle or itch giving me the willies that I have a flea crawling on me – or biting me. This may seem like not a huge deal, but has captivated quite a bit of my attention!

And then there is my hike.  Some of you know that just after Easter I signed up to go on a six day hike in August that will bring me to the summit of Mount Whitney – the highest mountain, not just in California, but in the lower 48 states.  The trip involves hiking a total of 60 miles with overall nearly 12,000 feet of elevation gain – all between 10,000 and 14,500 feet.  I started training this spring, but since recovering from jet lag, I’ve been really pushing my body.  Working on getting a 55 year old body in shape has me realizing how recovery and energy are so not the same as when I was 30.  I’m doing pretty well – I hiked 23 miles and 3300 feet of elevation this past weekend.  Yesterday Bo and I hiked three and a half miles up 1,679 feet in about an hour and a half – and then the same back home in less than an hour.  There will be a post about this experience – it’s been a whole lot more than just getting in physical shape – but that will come later.  For now, all this additional hiking and getting geared up is taking my attention too.

I continue to paint, but very little.  I love to paint, but none of us are painting machines.  It will have to wait too.  What I came to in the middle of the night is that I must take to heart what I’m up to in this life – my deep intention to live a more feminine path.  There is so much talk of bringing in the feminine while actually still operating in the masculine in the world of new age spirituality that I’ve been part of. It’s easy to do, we are steeped in a masculine culture – but it so misses the point.  We must remember that the feminine, like the Earth, has seasons.  The moon has phases, women’s bodies have cycles and there are periods of gestation in bringing in new life.  The feminine does not create every day, every week, every month, every year – without cessation.  It is not her way.

In the past 33 months I’ve shown you – and more importantly I’ve shown myself – that I have the capacity to be faithful in my work.  So now, I’m going to give myself a rest from creating – at least from writing – until my world and my body come back to a more settled state and rhythm.  In the meantime, there are 145 posts here for you to peruse.  I may be back after my hike in August.  We will see.  But I’m giving myself the option of waiting until after the Sausalito Art Festival on Labor Day Weekend.

I wish you summer – I wish you rest – I wish you color and light and life.  I send you my love,

Cara