Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Life to life ...

I have been wanting to write for a very long time. Months. 

The words come in every day, dancing, twirling, bringing images to life, adding meaning to experience. There are so many moments of life, ecstasy, grace and beauty in a day, it overwhelms me with gratitude.

And then I don't. I push them down without wanting to, knowing I shouldn't. I don't write ... Is there something to look at there? A stream of light shining through a cavern asking me to follow? Some old, no longer useful force saying I don't deserve these wonderful moments so by not writing about them, I will forget. Some old, familial energetic tie that needs to be broken... 

Yes, the days are enormously busy with a new house and baby but still ...

You make time. No matter what is going on in your life, you make time. You make time for what is important to you. For what blows life into your soul and fills you with magic. You make time to feed your heart. 

What you water with the power of attention, grows. 

But I haven't been when it comes to writing and whenever that happens there is something to see. Some form of very subtle self-deprivation, a slow anorexia of the soul that happens on a low plane that must be seen, acknowledged and opened. 

So here I am. Back at it. Feeding my soul. Sometimes it may take me a while, but I will always come back. I promise you my sweet soul self. 

In this moment, I am sitting in my kitchen experiencing a moment of grace. I am, as we speak, opening an email from one of our family farmers. He is letting us know that the hay is being gathered, the oats are doing tremendously well. That the pigs are rooting in the woods and the cows ans sheep are grazing happily. 


And, that the chickens are finally laying eggs after a long period of not having any. 

This, dear readers, in my experience of this life, is pure joy. This is the greatest connection to life as a human animal in this world. Life to life.

Many blessings to you all my babies. 




Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Where the Universe is ...

Magic this evening.

Your little hand on my breast, over my heart while you contentedly feed, half asleep. My hand covering your little one, ever so gingerly as to not disturb your sleepy suckle.

I silently, adoringly, gratefully, gaze at you. All that you are.

In that little space, in between your hand and mine, so small it is almost imperceptible, is all of creation. 

That tiny space, between our touching hands, is where the universe is.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.



Photo by my darling beautiful Claudia Ferri in Idyllwild ✨

Monday, February 2, 2015

Ignite the soul ...

Here we are darlings. Mid way. Today The Wheel brings us midway between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox.

It is a beautiful, blessed day.

Imbolc means - In the belly -. 

In the belly of the Sacred Mother, the Sacred Goddess, the Womb of Mother Earth, underneath the cover of snow and ice, things are stirring. Seeds that have been dormant all winter, in the dark under the ground and snow, shedding the year, resting and preparing for rebirth, are just beneath the surface ready to burst through in a few weeks time. Imbolc is a time of quickening and new growth though nothing is yet visible. It does not bring with it dramatic change from the death of Winter; trees do not burst into blossom overnight, leaves do not immediately sprout from the branches, plants and flowers do not instantly carpet the earth. This is a very mysterious time. Growth is gradual and seeds lie hidden in the earth, slowly pushing the first shoots up through the soil and yet still, all appears lifeless.

"In nature, we are quietly offered countless models of how to give ourselves over to what appears dark and hopeless, but which ultimately is an awakening beyond our imagining. All around us, everything small and buried surrenders to a process that none of the buried parts can see. We call this process seeding and this innate surrender allows everything edible and fragrant to break ground into a life of light that we call spring.
As a seed buried in earth can’t imagine itself as an orchid or hyacinth, neither can a heart packed with hurt or a mind filmed over with despair imagine itself loved or at peace. The courage of the seed is that, once cracking, it cracks all the way. To move through the dark into blossom is the work of the soul." 

- Mark Nepo

Happy Imbolc my beautiful angels.

Make this and drink it tonight, with someone you love (even if that is you on your own) and thank all that is. Life is magic and we are blessed to be here. Kindle the fire. Ignite the soul. Make it so.

Crystal blessings, Oana


 With Kim at The Algonquin Tea Company ... Her place is magic, and so is she.

Kindle the fire ...

What you need:

  • 1 1/2 cups pastured milk
  • 1 tsp. raw honey
  • 1/2 tsp. vanilla bean seeds or really good extract
  • cinnamon
What to do:

Warm milk but do not boil it. Add your honey and vanilla. Mix together and pour into a beautiful mug and then sprinkle with cinnamon. Now, iiiiifff you wanted to add some cognac, or really good dark rum, I would not object.
Enjoy babies.

Friday, January 30, 2015

Almost there ...

Today we are 3 days away from Imbolc. At the half way point. The halfway between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox. It is really good to be here.

I've been writing all week about what this day means because it is a really important one for me. Winters are hard. The light departs, the dark sets in, the cold bears down ... There are so many markers and meanings lost in modern times which makes it even more difficult. People feel so disconnected from themselves, from each other. Trust in ourselves and one another has been replaced by media fueled fear and paranoia, by constant access to news from all over the world twenty four hours a day. We live our lives publicly, edited and as a projection, in snippets...

Winter is the opposite of life lived in snippets. It asks slowness of us. It forces our fragility and interdependence to the front lines when the power goes out, when we are snowed in, when our cars can't move ... We need each other. The real, fleshy, imperfect version of ourselves. We need meaning and ritual. We must learn to trust again in ourselves and each other

To take chances without a guarantee.

 The heart cries out, the spirit needs.

"Imbolc, like its opposite festival Lammas where the harvest is ready but yet to be secured, is all about expecting and needing the best result. The challenge of Imbolc is to trust that what happens next will be good.The Winter Solstice is a miracle, the departing Sun returns. Imbolc, one station further along the Wheel, asks us to throw our weight behind this increasing light - planting seeds if we are living an agrarian life, committing to a course of action; and expending our energy, willpower, hard work and hope all without a guarantee ... " Rituals of Celebration

Committing to a course of action...

Willpower ...

To trust that what happens next will be good...

Hope...

How do you feel reading these lines? Read them again. Deeply. Connect to your emotional body for a moment, feel your physical body ... How does it feel? Where does it take you?

If you are up for it, let me know ...

Many blessings dear readers, we are almost there ...

Oana







Monday, January 26, 2015

Go back to it ...

I am taking us back today.



Back to a human pace ...

Back to honoring the seasons ...

Back to rituals ...

Back to our vulnerable hearts ...

Breathe.



Back to beautiful language ... 

Back to the eyes ..

Back to fine etiquette and the finer arts of being human ...

Back to lingering conversation ...

Back to softness ...

Breathe.



Back to routine ...

Back to making things ...

Back to awkward pauses ...

Breathe.



Back to when every single thing, including a fork, had deep meaning and was beautifully made with your family initials on it by a fellow human ...

Back to investing in and wearing the same exceptional quality clothes  for years ...

Back to investing in things you pass on ...

Back to unfiltered ...

Breathe.



Back to wholesome, respectful farming ...

Back to our Mother ...

Back to our Waters ...

Back to Men ...

Back to Women ...

Breathe.



Back to trusting one another ...

Back to trusting life ...

Back to the sacred child ...

Back to the sacred that is every moment in life ...

Breathe.



Breathe Love in.
Breathe Humanity in.
Breathe Respect in.
Breathe Vulnerable in.
Breathe Slow in.
Breathe Soft in.
Breathe Sustainability in.
Breathe One Human Family in.
Breathe One Animal Family in.
Breathe One Plant Family in. 
Breathe One.



Take a deep Breath in.

Connect to Source. 

You Are Human.

You Are Sacred.

You are a part of everything that ever was, ever is, ever will be.

You Are.


Every day is Magic. It is in you.

Go back to it.

Breathe Magic in.

Breathe Magic out.



On the outskirts of Malibu ... #nomorefilters









Saturday, January 10, 2015

I will not go ...

The first thing that happened was that the power went out.

There I was, on my beloved yoga mat, which I had run to as soon as bebek fell asleep (instantly dropping laundry behind me like a child leaving crumbs in the woods) sweating through my first Vinyassa since being pregnant and giving birth so, like, over a year and the lights went out. Then came that beautiful, peaceful silence that always accompanies a power outage.

Meh, I thought, it won't be long and I continued my practice knowing how precious these practice times are for me. All was done and well, bebek woke up, we ate, we spit up, we played, we peed, repeat.

It is this repeat part, the last part in particular, that alerted me that a teaching was near. Creator was to remind me of something.

So the next thing that happened was bebek deciding to choose this exact power outage moment to embark on a peeing marathon, going through every single beautiful cotton diaper we own, in about 4 hours.  That is 22 diapers. Read that again. 22.

So I did the modern thing and posted something witty on "the social media site" about my situation and faithfully checked for likes and fanciful comments (which I got from my darling friends). Yes, I do that too. I try to catch myself, but it has become a reflex, I am also addicted, just like you.

It was getting cold. And dark. It had completely escaped me in my one season home that it was getting dark outside and that the temperature was a bone chilling -20 and dropping (they were forecasting -38). Until it got cold ...  that brought me back...

I felt more of my humanity with every drop in degree.

Down to my last diaper, a little chilly and wondering what to do, the computer rings (you all know this as a "phone" but I've decided to call it "the computer" because really, actual phone time is so minimal and the rest is just computer stuff ... but that is for another post) and it is none other than the gorgeous, 9 month pregnant momma darling Stephanie, calling to check on us to see how we were doing and to invite us over, rescuing us from impending frigid darkness. I was so touched by that call. The simple, divine humanity, the reaching out from friend to friend. Her voice. Making sure we were okay, checking on us, opening her home to us when she is just a days away from bringing a new magical consciousness into this world. It was so beautiful. It is the best part of us. I thanked her umpteen times and promised to make my way over if the power did not come on in the next half of an hour.

But it did, and I have to say I felt a flash of loneliness because I was looking forward to being all together.

I could still have gone.

But I didn't. Because we don't. These days.

When the power came back on, I wrapped bebek in a bundle as tightly and warmly as I could and the first thing I did was put on thick, warm, woolly socks. I gathered and lit all the beeswax candles I had made in late Fall. I made a list of all the things we would need to cover our human needs in case it happens again.
I boiled water for some hot and steamy tea. I put on a sweater that Axel gave me this year with a beautiful card in which he asked me to imagine him hugging me warmly every time I put it on. So I did.

How I relished that first sip of sweet, steamy red tea...

And I thought about something. At every moment instead of being upset at how long it was taking (it was about 4 hours in the end), I chose to be in gratitude for those people out there working in -20 degree weather to fix the power lines. I reminded myself that it was a blessing to have people that did these things for us. They are invisible to us and we take them for granted. In these days of entitlement and "convenience" it is so easy (and so damaging to our spirit and humanity) to go the other way. The way of anger, entitlement, blame. I had even started down that path before reminding myself of the truth. That these things are not owed to me and I am so grateful that we have these services...

How beautiful is it to have loved ones around you ...

I don't even know how to end this. How to wrap it all up neatly into a bundle ...

I just know that I am grateful. I am connected. I am focused. I am human. I will stay human within this world that wants to take me away from my humanity day by day with chaos and distraction.


I will not go.



Blessings.





Saturday, January 3, 2015

The We ...

Hi dear readers. Happy New Year to you. I've been waiting to share something with you. I did not really feel ready until today, this moment in fact.  So I am here.

Last year, was a year that expanded my human experience beyond measure. 

I danced with life, I danced in magic.

                                                                                                               Art: Leah Dorion

I was pregnant dear readers. I was two selves and now have a beautiful new baby. 
She came to me from the stars and has the whole universe in her eyes. 
Words cannot express my gratitude.

I became a mother. Saying it sounded strange at first. No more.
Mother.

I had no idea.

I couldn't have. It is indescribable. The depth. The miracle. The wonder that is life.
The miracle that is this body. Our body. We. The women. The womb. The breasts.  The milk. The body. The cells. The sacred.

Divinity.

We. The women. The connection to the beginning of time. To the Great Mother. To the Women. The walking miracles. The Light. The magic.


The We. 



The Mother.

The stars are in her.

In the ocean that is her womb.

Life giving milk.

The Stars.

The Universe.

The Women.



The We.