Tulips

Shell pink petals
Sunlight turns the tips creamy
Pollen beckons within cups
Feasts for the bees

SoulCollage® Committee Suit: Small and Mighty

I am one who is stronger than I appear. I am one who labors through time and perseveres. I am one who likes to be seen and feels seen for enduring, and who stands in light.

What is your gift or message for me?

There is power in small things and incremental movement.

What do you want me to do?

Do what needs doing that is in front of you, and remain open.

Why did you show up today?

As you listen to intuition, you are moving mountains of energy.

If you have a shadow, what would it be? Or, what light do you offer?

My shadow is hubris.

Let Go - Phealeh, Eva Marie

Time to let go
Passing fingertips on my hand
Can you prise yourself away from my eyes?
And head for warmer plains?
I’m so stagnant
With a fear of jumping in the water
The transitioning from hot to icy
It’s pleasant when you get in

Every little thing I try
Makes me realise
It’s hard to untie
Ever letting go
With grace
Every time I do
It falls back into place
Every little thing I try
Makes me realise
It’s hard to untie
Ever letting go
With grace
Every time I do
You have that look on your face

You float like a feather
It’s too good to be true
And you change like the weather
The storm has to break through

Moving closer
River flowing to the harbour
Flowers sway in nature’s ballet
Feeling everything
There’s no end game
But sometimes I am getting restless
And I think I need a place to call home
Finding it within

Every little thing
Makes me realise
Never letting go
Every time I do

Can you teach me how to be a nomad
I wanna be like
I wanna be like you
Can you teach me how to migrate
I wanna move like
I wanna move like you
To warmer weather
Next year
Take me with you
Take me with you

Take me with you
Take me with you
Take me with you
Take me with you

America Needs to Party More

"My point is that we are obligated to create the social world we want. Intimacy, togetherness—the opposite of the crushing loneliness so many people seem to feel—are what parties alchemize. Warm rooms on cold nights, so many people you love thumbtacked down in the same place, the musical clank of bottles in the recycling, someone staying late to help with the dishes—these are things anyone can have, but like everything worth having, they require effort. Fire trucks, after all, don’t come from nowhere—they come because we pay taxes.

This year, pay your taxes: Resolve to throw two parties—two because two feels manageable, and chain-letter math dictates that if every party has at least 10 guests (anything less is not a party!) and everyone observes host-guest reciprocity (anything else is sociopathic!), then everyone gets 20 party invitations a year—possibly many more. Bear in mind that parties can be whatever you want: a 15-person Super Bowl party; a casual picnic in the park with 20 of your pals; an overfull house party, guest count unknown. They do not need to be expensive, or formal, or in your own home. You don’t need a theme, unless you want one. You don’t even need to buy anything, or clean up beforehand, if you’re feeling particularly punk. All you have to do is invite people in."

-Ellen Cushing, America Needs to Party More 

The Choices That Create Isolation

"Those choices might seem minor, but they matter: To call a friend, or scroll on Instagram? To go to church, the weekly soccer game, or book club—or sleep in and scroll again? Today’s newsletter rounds up stories on the activities that bring us together, and the ones that keep us apart."

    -Isabel Fattal, The Choices That Create Isolation

Whistling in the Dark - Phaeleh, Augustus Ghost

 

You are in a wasteland
With your soul trapped between the tides
Running with wild horses and the wolves are on your track
Hiding from the secrets in your eyes
Hold my hand against the night
Show me all the demons left to fight
And I'll patch up the hole in your heart
And carry on whistling in the dark
And carry on whistling in the dark
Twilight
And the mud begins to crack
You cross your fingers twice behind your back
But your feet start to slip
You stumble and you trip
The sky breaks and the clouds are dripping black
Hold my hand against the night
Show me all the demons left to fight
And I'll patch up the hole in your heart
And carry on whistling in the dark
And carry on whistling in the dark
(Ahhh-ahhh-ahhhh-----ahhhhhh)
Go now
To the clear skies
Where the tears will wash the color
From your eyes
Oh-ahh ahh-ahhhh-----ahhhhhh
Ohh-ahh ah-ahhh ahh
Ahhhh-h-h-h-h
I will carry you home
You know I've done it alone
I will carry you home
You know I've done it alone
Hold my hand against the night
Show me all the demons left to fight
And I'll patch up the hole in your heart
And carry on whistling in the dark
In the dark
Carry on whistling in the dark

Pandemic Prayer

Pandemic Prayer

We are not all left standing when the war has ended.
It feels like the end times.
For many, it is.
Inhalation is our first act of embodiment.
Exhalation, our last.
One lifetime, millions of breaths
a conversation with all existence.
Where does the spirit go when we die?
Hail Mary, my gentle Momma,
You left; you gave up your breath
before the virus could steal it.
You waged a long campaign to stave off
cancer, old age, and death.
Emancipating your breath
you added the gift of your spirit to all.
Holy Mary, you released your body,
returned to Earth, our suffocated Mother,
in respiratory distress for decades.
Humanity is a virus choking
and drowning our source of life.
When the host dies,
the virus dies too.
Momma, you returned to our Mother
so you could garden with Her,
to try to heal us all.

–Kathryn Harper

On this day six years ago my mother, Mary Catherine Nicklas Petro, died. She was 86 and had two types of cancer. In 2017 she was diagnosed with stage IV melanoma -- her third experience with melanoma. She began Opdivo, an immunotherapy. It was her good fortune that she fell into the 30% for whom the treatment worked. It shrank her tumors to almost nothing. About a year ago, her breast cancer returned. She had a lot of arthritis, mobility issues, and pain. Yet she kept going as long as she could with the Opdivo, because she wanted to contribute to the research on the treatment for the sake of others. The breast cancer returned, though, and she knew she didn’t want aggressive treatment for it. Her body was struggling enough with side effects and ailments.

Mom was getting close to entering hospice. We had imagined more time, a gradual decline, a process where we could see her again and say good-bye. Something happened inside her that day that led to a swift end. She is no longer suffering. I had talked to her three days prior, and I am so glad I did. We lived 3,000 miles apart. I lived in an epicenter of Covid-19, was sheltering-in-place, and am in a vulnerable group. I didn’t want to get it, and I didn’t want to carry it to my siblings or my elderly father. I spent a lot of time saying good-bye to my mother over the years, connecting with her, resolving things between us. I grieved some. Yet nothing prepared me for how that felt. The finality. May we all be peace; may we all be free from suffering. 

SoulCollage® Committee Suit: Seeing Possibilities

I am one who likes form. I am one who looks into nothing and sees structures and creative possibilities. 

What is your gift or message for me?

The spark lives within you.

What do you want me to do?

Stoke the spark, brainstorm, tend the flame.

Why did you show up today?

Because I'm taking greater prominence in life.

If you have a shadow, what would it be? Or, what light do you offer?

The shadow is flightiness. 

Electric Avenue - Eddy Grant

Boy! Boy!

Now in the street, there is violence
And-and a lots of work to be done
No place to hang out our washing
And-and I can't blame all on the sun

Oh no, we gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher
Oh, we gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher

Workin' so hard like a soldier
Can't afford a thing on TV
Deep in my heart, I abhor ya
Can't get food for the kid

Good God, we gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher
Ho, we gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher

Oh no
Oh no
Oh no
Oh no

Oh God, we gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher
Ho, we gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher

Who is to blame in one country?
Never can get to the one
Dealin' in multiplication
And they still can't feed everyone

Oh no, we gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher
Ho no, we gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher

Ho, out in the street
Out in the street
Out in the daytime
Out in the night

Oh, we gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher
Ho, we gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher

Out in the street
Out in the street
Out in the playground
In the dark side of town

Ho, we gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher
Hey, we gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher

Ohh yeah
Rock it in the daytime
Rock it in the night
Rock it in my...

SoulCollage® Committee Suit: Reluctant Homemaker

I am one who would rather be reading than cleaning. I am one who is comfortable living with a certain level of dust and grime in order to attend to what interests me. I am one who would rather be somewhere else when cleaning.

What is your gift or message for me?

It's all right to ask for help at home from other family members. It's okay to let chores slide.

What do you want me to do?

Let go of guilt. Be present when you do these mundane chores. Teach Claire good habits.

Why did you show up today?

Because you are here at a SoulCollage® session instead of doing chores.

If you have a shadow, what would it be? Or, what light do you offer?

The shadow is slovenliness.

Young Blood - Noah Kahan

 

One, two, three, four

Oh dear, oh dear, I'm sorry
That you grew up so soon
A cold year and no high school parties
I've been drinking alone
Oh, I've been drinking alone

So, don't fear, don't fear their warnings
They're bitterer than most
Four years of driving across the country
For empty seats at their shows
And they've been drinking alone

So, keep your time, keep your mind, keep humble
Start your life in the middle of the jungle
You
Young blood

Rub your eyes, be surprised, keep hungry
Stay alive, try to lose all of your money
You
Young blood
You
Young blood
Young blood

So when you're mad for no reason
At everything at once
And when you start over-thinking
I'll be drinking at home
Oh, I'll be drinking at home

So, keep your time, keep your mind, keep humble
Start your life in the middle of the jungle
You
Young blood

Rub your eyes, be surprised, keep hungry
Stay alive, try to lose all of your money
You
Young blood
You
Young blood
Young blood

And if you want I could tell the truth
That this life takes a toll on you
I spend nights stitching up the loose threads of my soul
And in the morning I'm bullet proof

And if you want I could tell the truth
That this life takes a toll on you
I spend nights stitching up the loose threads of my soul
And in the morning I'm bullet proof
In the morning I'm bullet proof

So, keep your time, keep your mind, keep humble
Start your life in the middle of the jungle
You
Young blood

Rub your eyes, be surprised, keep hungry
Stay alive, try to lose all of your money
You
Young blood
You
Young blood
You
Young blood
Young blood

SoulCollage® Committee Suit: Relentless Investigator

I am one who is intensely focused. I seek clues and meaning. I persevere. I am one who practices attention through my eyes and through my mind.

What is your gift or message for me?

That being a seeker is only one part of who you are.

What do you want me to do?

Live in your body and all your senses.

Why did you show up today?

I have shown up today because you have noticed concerning lapses in memory. So this is a worry. I want to remind you that attention and retention aren't the same. 

If you have a shadow, what would it be? Or, what light do you offer?

The shadow is the addiction to pursuit and perceiving with the eye to the exclusion of the other senses.

The Ogre and the Girl Who Nevertheless Persisted

From an exercise in Your Life As Story, Chapter 3: My Fairytale and Letter

The Ogre and the Girl Who Nevertheless Persisted

Once upon a time there was a girl who was born to an old-fashioned father in an era of feminism. Growing up she displayed aptitude for language and writing and did well academically. However, there were problems: she was raised in the Catholic church, in which females did not have a prominent role. She was drawn to religion even as a young child, but as she grew up her perception of God was shaped by her view of her father. Another problem was her parents’ perception of her ability, especially her father’s. She expressed interest in becoming a teacher; he negated it, saying there was a glut of teachers. She said she wanted to be a writer, a journalist, but was told she wasn't competitive enough to succeed. She revealed a desire to be a psychologist but was told she was too emotional. Because she could not declare without hesitation exactly what she wanted to do with her life that fell outside these three interests, because he was conservative and would not support her in pursuit of a liberal arts education, and because he had the money, she adjusted her educational goals to suit him.

In high school she became involved in a teen Catholic prayer group. She became a vocal, “born again” Christian, a role which defined her life for four years. She lived in dread of making mistakes. Her parents were experiencing relationship problems, notably her father launching into rages at her mother. The girl felt it was all because of her not being good enough, so she tried even harder to be good and perfect. Because of her eldest sister’s departure from college after one year, he would not allow her to go away to school. She received supportive feedback from teachers about her intellect, but felt there was no point because since age 12 her father told her he wouldn’t let her go away to school. Because of her second-eldest sister’s reneging on a parental loan for a car, he would not allow her to get her driver’s license while she lived under his roof. Her life was bound in negatives. In 1981 she applied to the community college under one major, human services; her father repeatedly told her she would only end up working in a welfare office, which sounded depressing. So before school started she switched to food service management, thinking it would at least provide a creative outlet. She quickly learned that cooking was not her passion and changed to business administration. She was miserable. She felt underused, dissatisfied, not academically challenged in any way. She had to take the bus two hours each way daily, or scrabble rides from classmates. After one year, she recognized the waste of time and money involved, and she told her father she would withdraw and seek work.

One week after informing him of her decision, he asked her if she’d gotten a job yet. She replied she had not, and he assumed she hadn’t been looking. He flew into a tirade about how he would not permit her to leech off of him. He stated she would have to start paying rent at $100 a month plus her own groceries. Shortly after, she found a job as a dental assistant that paid a low wage; she could not afford to move out of her parents’ house. After eight months the dentist decided to take a seven week vacation and laid her off. She quit (she needed income) and searched for another job. In 1983, desperate to become competitive in the job market, she entered a business school to pursue a degree in secretarial studies. She didn’t want to, but again, financial aid depended on her father, who only supported practical, clerical subjects for her; the government required he report his income to assess aid, and he resisted. She pushed and he relented, and she ended up borrowing $5,000 to fund this. The school was a diploma mill, not totally legitimate, and again, she loathed the classes. After six months she quit and, using the money from the loan, moved out on her own. She then got a job as a secretary at Syracuse University in 1984. It was an awful job, where the Dean of Students required females to wear skirts and dresses only, where she was given menial tasks and was rebuked for wanting to take on more work. She spent many hours looking busy, which exhausted her. 

Still unsure of what she wanted to study, and struggling with her sense of self and place in life, she meandered through the days. She had remitted tuition benefits, but she started courses and dropped them. After a year, she transferred to a job at the university library, where she immersed herself in reading and books. Her job bored her, and she barely made ends meet. However, she at least could wear jeans and casual clothes and spend many hours getting paid to read and research, which she did love. Gradually she became more serious about her education, and she grew stronger in her sense of ownership over her own life. She took courses she enjoyed and recognized the spark of intelligence within her. She decided in her mid-20s to study psychology, despite what her father would think. She knew it wouldn’t guarantee a job, but she also knew she had skills to at least feed herself. She wanted to study what she loved, a subject that engaged her and made her think. And despite the fact she’d lived on her own for over five years, she felt compelled to explain her decision in a letter to her father. She also wanted to go away to college and have the typical college experience.

In 1989, she applied to a couple of state colleges and was accepted. However, she had no savings. She would have to borrow student loans, but she didn’t know if that would be enough. Her father offered to provide some funding, a loan of $8,000, to be paid upon graduation. The conditions of the loan stated she could not marry, get pregnant, buy a vehicle, or take a vacation while in school, and that she would work temp jobs on her breaks. The arrangement of the loan filled her with foreboding, which she expressed to her mother. Her mother’s response was that if she really wanted the education, to swallow her pride and sign the contract. She did, with reluctance. Off she went, and she did well her first semester. In her second semester, concerned about the amount she borrowed and her father’s implied timeframe for repayment (within five years of graduation), she attempted to adjust her course load so she could graduate sooner. She and her brother were both home for spring break. Her proposal violated her father’s sense of the contract she had signed and was met with his rage and refusal; he grilled her about her expenditures. He behaved as in the past, like a despot. During this encounter, she had an epiphany. At age 26, he was still treating her as if she were 8, and he acted as though he owned her. He said ugly things to her about being a failure, a quitter, and not being his daughter, and he lunged toward her. His emotions were so apoplectic that her brother had to physically intervene to keep their father from reaching her. She decided that her dignity and autonomy were more valuable to her than an education, and she left his house. She finished out the semester (spring 1990) by living with a friend and commuting to the college (100 miles round trip in a borrowed vehicle) and returned to her library job with one year of credits left to earn.

Shortly after leaving, she received a memo from her father through her mother. In this she learned that her father had intended to forgive the entire debt upon her graduation (a decision he declined to share because he thought knowing would make her squander the opportunity), that he wanted the house-key returned, and that he did not want to see or have any contact with her until he decided he wanted it. This was cold, but typical of him. The woman just decided to let go of the desire for a college degree for awhile. She was very, very depressed, more so than she had ever been. Too much was in flux in her life; she didn’t even have a place to live. So she focused on acquiring the basics, on regaining stability, so she could rest and reassess the situation. She sorely needed a means of reliable transportation, and she needed money to pay for classes that the college required she take on campus.

In spring of 1991, she managed to find a deal on a new little car and arranged the loan. This was freedom! Her world opened. With this exhilarating change she felt renewed. She spoke to her boss about changing her work schedule to accommodate the classes she would need to take during the day. Her boss supported this; the endeavor would demand much of her, in that she would work in the morning, commute 100 miles in the afternoon for class, and finish her job in the evening. But it was possible, and she embraced this. In the summer of 1991 she took classes at Oswego, and coursework in the fall at both campuses. In spring of 1992 she took more courses at the university where she worked to transfer to the Oswego. Exhausted but nearly finished, she plowed through more summer and fall courses, and finished her studies in December 1992. Her goal had been to get her B.A. by the day she turned 30. Her birthday was June 24, 1993; she garnered her achievement six months ahead of that deadline. After ten years of hard work and struggle to overcome emotional, financial, and academic obstacles, our heroine prevailed. With the degree that society claimed was necessary to find advanced work, she could move ahead.
-----------------
My dear child,
I know I started parenthood quite late in life, and it is my hope that I gained some wisdom to share by waiting. My life was not problem-free growing up; nor was my early adulthood easy. I had to fight for my opportunities. Lacking money and moral support, I spent many years confusedly searching for my path. Sometimes I am wistful, wondering what else I might have accomplished had my life been different, but this is a waste of time. Besides, there is a central message here, in my life: persevere. No matter that your dream is scoffed at, or that you fear you lack the ability. If your heart whispers to you about what you love, if you harbor a dream, believe in it. And then do all you can to manifest this dream, keeping it in sight as life takes you hither and yon. As long as you hold this dream and nurture it, it will grow. It may not flourish all the time, but it will grow. As I look back on my life, this is one clear lesson it taught me.

Oh My Dear Lord - The Unlikely Candidates

Here's my confession
I've got a death wish
I'm in the fast lane
Addicted to excess

Living my best life
I was on top right
Sipping the limelight
A deer in the headlights

My future used to shine as bright as a diamond
Where did time go?
I was so high, it was frightening
I know I messed up, but there's no use in crying
(No use in crying)
Oh my dear Lord

I've been running wild, had a good time
But I can't stop now
(Oh my dear Lord)
Over my head in a landslide
Can you pull me out?
Oh my dear Lord
Oh my dear Lord
Oh my dear Lord

I've been running wild, had a good time
But I can't stop now
Oh my dear Lord
Oou, oh my dear Lord

I was a good guy
But I was the worst type
Give me an inch, man
And I'll take a mile
I'm walking back now
Past all the fires
Trying to find out
Why I grabbed the lighter

My future used to shine as bright as a diamond
Where did time go?
I was so high, it was frightening
I know I messed up, but there's no use in crying
(No use in crying)
Oh my dear Lord

I've been running wild, had a good time
But I can't stop now
(Oh my dear Lord)
Over my head in a landslide
Can you pull me out?
Oh my dear Lord
Oh my dear Lord
Oh my dear Lord

I've been running wild, had a good time
But I can't stop now
Oh my dear Lord
Yeah
Yeah-eh
(Oh my dear Lord)
Yeah
Yeah-eh

Been a tyrant, been a pusher, pushing my disease
Breaking bones and taking everything in front of me
Priests and beggars looking up to heaven from their knees
Is anyone listening?
Is anyone listening?
Is anyone listening?

(Oh my dear Lord)
I've been running wild, had a good time
But I can't stop now
(Oh my dear Lord)
Over my head in the landslide
Can you pull me out?
Oh my dear Lord (Yeah)
Oh my dear Lord (Yeah-eh)
Oh my dear Lord

I've been running wild, had a good time
But I can't stop now
Oh my dear Lord
Oohh, my dear Lord

Say Good Morning

What do you do 

when you head into the morning 

to pick dandelion leaves for the rabbit, 

and you meet a

pea-sized spot of joy on a plant?

-Kathryn Harper

SoulCollage® Committee Suit: Presence, Patience, and Time

I am one who waits with dignity, with the composure of the Buddha. I am one who understands the difference between psychological time and the eternal present. I understand how to use psychological time in my life situations, yet I remain aware of my connection to timeless Presence, from which I come and which embodies me.

What is your gift or message for me?

I am subtle, and the world's noise can be distracting.

What do you want me to do?

Identify what makes you feel most alive and practice it daily, even if for a few moments.

Why did you show up today?

Because you were ready.

If you have a shadow, what would it be? Or, what light do you offer?

Both light and shadow are needed.

Fear - NF

Hello, darkness, my old friend (Hello)
Knocking at my door again
Begging me to come outside
I'd let you back into my life
Now, usually I'd be strong enough
To lock the doors and keep 'em shut
But not today, I'm desperate (Desperate)
So go ahead and come on in
So go ahead and come on in
So go ahead and come on in

OCD is worse than ever, hands are bleeding, maybe I should take the pills, don't (Woah)
Know what's going on with me, some days I actually think I might be schizo— (Woah)
Phrenic, prolly not, but even writing this is making me begin to spiral, oh God (Oh, oh, oh)
Made a promise to myself I wouldn't let the fear back in, but then I did though (Woah)
Told the world that I was sick of running, then went back to running, what a joke (Woah)
Disappointed? Yeah, me too, I thought I finally had finally made a breakthrough, guess not (Oh, woah, oh)
It's the same song and dance, you have seen it before
Darkness holds out his hand, then we walk to the floor
Every decision made isn't mine anymore
Like a puppet with strings, I just don't have a choice
What's the truth? What's a lie? Help me, God, help me, Lord
"Face your fears, dry your eyes," Grandma died, what's the point?
Lost the keys, lost my hope, lost my will, lost my joy
Lost a friend, lost my home, lost my faith, lost my voice

Desperate

Standing back
Watching my mansion
Burn to ash while I—
Hold the gas can
Asking God if
He started this fire

Is this what You wanted?
Is this what You wanted?
Make all my hopes and my dreams come to life just to lay them to rest
Is this what You wanted?
Is this what You wanted?
Give me a false sense of peace just to show me what peace really is
Is this what You wanted? On the verge, on the edge
Is this what You wanted? Petrified, scared to death
Is this what You wanted? Praying to God, desperate
Is this what You wanted, what You wanted?
Is this what You wanted? Hanging on by a thread (Oh, oh, oh)
Is this what You wanted? Empty heart, nothing left (Oh, oh, oh)
Is this what You wanted? Breaking down, spiraling (Oh, oh, oh)
Is this what You wanted, what You wanted? (Oh, oh, oh)
(Is this what You wanted?) Standing back
(Is this what You wanted?) Watching my mansion
(Is this what You wanted?) Burn to ash
(Is this what You wanted?) While I— (What You wanted?) (Oh, oh, oh)
(Is this what You wanted?) Hold the gas can
(Is this what You wanted?) Asking God If
(Is this what You wanted?) He started
(Is this what You wanted?) This fire (What You wanted?) (Oh, oh, oh)