Stop, Drop, and Roll

Getting stuck in a negative thought spiral feels like the worst thing on earth.
The day that I figured it was possible to break one of these spirals (if I could see it happening) I knew I'd gained a new and powerful tool. This is not a lofty claim that I'm a perfect, enlightened being, capable of mindfulness at all times. Some days, the demons win. Other days, I'd swear to you that they win far more often than I do, and I really suck at this... but, hopefully, I would stop myself and find a way to interrupt that thought pattern, right there.  Full stop.

Writing for the Elephant Journal, Michelle Margaret shares this piece of wisdom:
When I was in elementary school and they taught us about fire safety, the rule if your clothes caught on fire was to “stop, drop and roll.” For some reason, that slogan came into my mind recently, and I realized that it’s applicable to daily life practice, too.

When you get caught in a pattern of negativity—ill will, jealousy, anger, fear, self-hate or whatever it may be—stop.

Stop. Notice that you’ve been swept away from the present moment.

Drop. Let it go. Just as simple as that. Surrender. You don’t need to hold onto it anymore.

Roll. Life goes on. Continue on your way until you need to stop, drop and roll again.


Michelle offers us nine more great suggestions for re-aligning your spirit in her article, "How to be Free: 10 Simple, Transformative, Daily Life Practices." None of them require a lifetime of study or an advanced knowledge of Eastern Mysticism.  They're suggestions and ideas, each with the potential to become daily practice, should you find they help you.  

Firearms: Yes, it's a women's issue (I have opinions.)

Above: Lyudmila Mykhailivna Pavlichenko (July 12, 1916 – October 10, 1974), 

a Soviet sniper during WWII. She is credited with 309 kills, 

and regarded as the most successful female sniper in history. 

(Photo courtesy of wikimedia commons.)

Russian Female Snipers in WWII
were feared by 

combat trained German troops. 

(So much for guns being a macho-man only sport!) 

In fact, there were approximately 2,000 female snipers in the Red Army, of whom about 500 survived the war. Lyudmila Pavlichenko (pictured above), Nina Lobkovskaya, and Klavdiya Kalugina (who was only 17 at the start of her military service in 1943) were among the thousands of women who put themselves in the line of fire for Mother Russia.  They were armed with slightly more accurate but less-rugged sniper rifles (German: Scharfschützengewehr or SSG), than their conscripted brothers: an upgrade from the cheaper assault rifle.

While I have openly said that we, as a culture, really ought to consider just how "universal" that "right" to own a firearm really is (Hey, we do have a licencing process to drive cars, showing that we're not going to act like a damned fool when behind the wheel, correct? Most NRA members that I've talked to understand gun safety and the rules of firearms so well that they could teach a gun safety course themselves, and agree this is reasonable.) ...guns are also a women's right's issue, in that they truly become the great equalizer.  I am not a small woman (or a woman who should ever own a firearm) but I understand the fear that my petite friends feel when at risk of being beaten, abused, or raped.  Cornered and out-massed by 200 lbs. of angry pot-roast is no place to be.

...but one bullet is one bullet.  Nothing says "I'm not getting raped (mugged/ beaten) today!" like a large-caliber round to the center chest.  Simple, eloquent, and to-the-point.  The vast majority of rape cases will never go to trial, the majority of those that do will never be convicted, and, if you grew up in the United States, you probably know the rest. Dead men can't become repeat offenders.  If she is fighting for her life, no further argument is necessary.

"And Shepherds we shall be, for Thee, my Lord, for Thee."

"Do not kill, do not rape, do not steal. These are principles which every man of every faith can embrace." ~Boondock Saints

Kittens, and their use in Repelling the Devil

A kitten is licking my face.


My eyes aren't open yet, but I know it's morning. I also know it's going to be a bad brain day. Hold perfectly still, don't move, don't twitch, wake up slowly, take stock of every sensation. My mind is screaming, but, apart from a snoring husband, the giant cat sleeping between us, and the tiny face-licker, nobody else is here... nothing threatening, anyway...  It's safe to move. Move slowly.

I stretch. Giant sleeping cat stretches, too, and snuggles further into me. Does he know it's a bad brain day? Can he feel, maybe smell, the chemicals that nature already released inside my skull? Is that why he's here? Not important right now. Open your eyes, dammit. Breathe deeply. You're stronger than your biochemistry. Ask yourself, “What do I have to do today?”


Not fail. Not completely fail. At Life.

The devil pulls the chair out from my drawing table and sits down. He looks pretty comfortable.

“Just here to help,” he says “You're planning out your day, and that's being productive, healthy and functional. My friend, you're trying to take control of that brain before it takes a hold of you. So, what would you say 'not fail' includes?”


Rectify all of my past wrongs, accomplish everything today that I need to accomplish, and anticipate everything that could go wrong in the future so that nothing ever will. Today. By the end of today. Yes, that's what the world would expect.


The Devil slowly lights a cigarette. “What if you fail at this, too?”


My brain shudders like it's been hit by a blast~wave, and I close my eyes. Of course I'll fail at this... but my mind is on fire, and there is no sense of reason. All I know is that I have to fix everything in the world, today, right now, and, dammit, it's just not possible.


I never want to open my eyes again.


I keep my eyes closed, but it's too late. The other fuzzballs have seen movement. They know they can play with me, and, with feline-single-mindedness, attack my face in licking and purring. Do they know it's a bad brain day? Could they tell before I opened my eyes, like I could?


They're still licking my face. I can't concentrate on anything else. This is perfect, since the Devil hates to be ignored. (Pride...) Focus on the kittens, you can do this. Nothing else really matters right now. This is pure joy. Know that even if you feel that you've failed everybody else in the entire world, you saved the lives of each of these tiny fuzzballs, and watched them grow into beautiful young cats who see you as the source of all love and safety in the world.

You. Yes, you, right now.


Gently displacing kittens, I sat up and put my feet on the floor. Lying in the muddle of the open doorway into the hall was my copy of  the Power of Now by Eckhardt Tolle.


I looked at the kittens, now jumping off of the bed and racing each other to the door. They're known for moving stuff, but it's usually hair-ties and favorite toys, not books. Besides, kittens can't read. Pure coincidence. Coinci-Dance? Synchronicity? Does it matter, if the message is good? Take what works, throw the rest out.

The Power of Now is a favorite book, but maybe I need to remind myself of the book's message; maybe read it again. I can't atone for everything in the past, nor can I possibly anticipate everything in the future. I can not possibly accomplish everything that I would, ideally, want to accomplish, in one day. I can only handle one day, and that's today, one moment at a time. I can handle Now, and, right now, that's going downstairs and making sure these little creatures have everything they need.


I'm the source of all love and safety in the world, remember? I've never failed them. They believe.


This is the power of unconditional love. While I may never completely understand the science behind it, a pile of kittens is one of the best tools in my toolbox for fighting a bad brain. A wise, kind woman told me once, “If God is love, animals are angels.”



Yes, I just repelled the Devil with the power of kittens... The anxiety and self-loathing that pulls us away from the unconditional love in the heart of the universe was sent away because, right here, right now, none of that matters. A stupid idea, if it works, isn't stupid. Holy water? I suppose, from a certain point of view, all life is mostly water. The most sacred holy water is the blood flowing through a beating heart that lives because of you and loves you completely. Purr on, little brothers and sisters. Lick my face every morning for the rest of your life. You're a gift from something greater than myself.

The Lavender Bush

An unseasonably warm afternoon in an unseasonably warm October meant that I had a perfect day for transplanting a few treasured garden plants into containers.  When gardening became much more than a hobby, I felt it was OK to openly admit it's therapy. Non-gardeners may not understand why I feel pride in a lavender bush.  Lavender is slow-growing, and can be fussy, but years of love and care allowed it to grow into the beauty it is today.

It's possible for lavender to survive, and even thrive, in a container, if cared for properly.  I'm the sort of plant geek that views this as a challenge, and the possibility of having a container of lavender growing indoors is too good to pass up.  Indoor container gardens have added cheer to many long winters up here in the Great Lakes, so I'm not a stranger to growing things in flower pots (as well as recycled plastic bottles and yogurt tubs, as needed.)   Urban gardening means making the most of what you have, and I've seen enterprising souls create truly ingenious solutions.

Part of this, though, speaks to a more urgent need:  mobility.  The modern economy has created a class of techno-gypsy, and sometimes you need to pull up stakes, without much warning.  The old tribal dreams of  a family plot of land with an herb garden or an idyllic farmstead become something that must be grasped loosely.  We do not know that "this land" will be our children's children's for ten generations to come.  It's a rare family that could guarantee it for the next five.

Yet, some ancient part of us needs to touch the earth, and to see one season follow the other.  We need to know that there is continuity so that we can have belief that life will continue.  Without that, hope looses plausibility.  We do, in fact, need to "put down roots," if only so that we can be reassured, every spring, that the blossoms will come back.  Thankfully, humanity invented clay pots, so that roots and the life they generate can be carried, moved, protected, and allowed to grow wherever it needs to.  While Mother Nature has a lot of great ideas, I really have to give some credit to human ingenuity.

Were we meant to live with the constant uncertainty of modern life any more than lavender is meant to live in a container?  A better question is can we.  The best answer I can give is, "Some can do it better than others, some break and die, but many have thrived."

200 million years of emotional life can't be denied.

Has anybody noticed it's much easier to paint when you have no desire to go near to a computer? Right now, the outside world is a scary place, and computers are windows (HA!) to the outside world. Like most mammals, I react to panic by withdrawing further into my own social unit.

Paint is comfortable and happy, and my friends know how to avoid my triggers, meaning the things that we already know will set me off. This is great for managing times of stress. Experience has taught that a great thing for times of stress is avoiding, triggers, For example, I already understand that the compulsively following the 24-hour news cycle can lead to the sort of weird, compulsive, anxiety-ridden behavior of an addict, and, frankly, there are people who are paid far more than I am for those migraines.

Knowing that this is not my problem, and understanding that it's OK to step away from the monitor, is a powerful tool for controlling stress. I love all of you. Children of Earth, please work this out. You are above my pay-grade.

The most amazing thing I have learned this week was just how significant emotion is in our thinking process, once we really analyze the brain on the meaty-bits level. The science of the brain is a favorite "geek" of mine, but I understand not everybody shares it, so let me just give a link. This article by Stephen T. Asma has given me a great deal to think about.

The animal/ emotional part of our brains is much bigger, older, and more powerful than we tend to give it credit for. Vastly.

"After you spend time with wild animals in the primal ecosystem where our big brains first grew, you have to chuckle at the reigning view of the mind as a computer" ~Stephen T. Asma 

By giving myself larger blocks of time intentionally away from the computer and the possibility of news and its constant panic, I can reduce stress. By allowing myself a larger block per day to just do what I love and paint, I increase joy. By doing both, I can give myself an immeasurable gift. I'm not sure if I can stay with it, but I am willing to keep an open mind.

Lunar Eclipse Magick

Wednesday morning, November 28th, the Lunar Equinox will occur.  While it won't be visible for me, I'm still a geek about earth magick and general Pagan Orthopraxy, and love doing wonderful things to celebrate and honor special occurrences like this.

For me (and everybody else in New York), it'll be happening early Wednesday morning from 7:14 AM to Wed 11:51 AM. This means I won't be able to see it.  Really.  I love my friends, but these fun things don't help, other than in the sense of celebrating the Earth's magick:

If you would like to find out when and if it is visible in your part of the earth, you can click here for an interesting site with a graph that details exactly when it's happening by your local time.  (Isn't science neat?)

Those who deeply enjoy astrology have already delved further into this than I possibly can.  The Tumblr feed Lunar+Eclipse has gone farther than I possibly can with suggestions for possible meanings and suggestions for rituals.  If you, too, enjoy lunar magick or working with manifesting positive energy, there's a lot of fun suggestions in that feed so far. However, if you're expecting hard-science astronomy, you may be disappointed.

Riding with Holda

In years past, I have always created a Yule-themed image. I know I've been threatening to draw the Krampus, but I just found this beautiful, ancient Yuletide legend: Holda, (whose name means “Merciful”) was the Teutonic (old German) goddess of winter.

In her form as the noble White Lady, Holda is beautiful and stately, with long, flowing golden hair, which shines with sunlight as she combs it. She was typically shown as a beautiful blonde wearing a shimmering gown (often white) and a magical goose-down cape (resembling the snow... shaking it makes the snowflakes fall). At Yuletide, she travels the world in a carriage and bestows good. Flying through the night sky on December 24 ("Mother Night," or "Lady Night"), Holda brings gifts and spreads joy to the good.  Remember, she also keeps track of those who have been "naughty" and "nice!"

Holda was a sky goddess riding on the wind. She is thought to be an older form of Frigg, wife of the Father God Odin; in some tales, Holda and Odin ride the sky together.

I could see having some real fun illustrating my impressions of this fascinating goddess. We'll see where this goes!

First Yuletide Holiday Card Design is up....

More will follow. Please enjoy, share, and pass them along!

My favorite parts of this holiday are the more traditional European "Yuletide," and "Father Christmas" parts of it.  I especially love the warm firelight, so this one has a very old, English poem called "the Yule Log" printed on the inside. It was written by the English poet Robert Herrick (1591-1674), and Zazzle was able to print it in a beautiful Old English typeface.

Here's the poem:

The Yule Log
Come, bring with a noise,
My merry, merry boys,
 The Christmas log to the firing;
While my good dame, she 
Bids ye all be free,
 And drink to your heart's desiring.
 With the last year's brand 
Light the new block, and 
For good success in his spending, 
On your Psaltries play, 
That sweet luck may 
 Come while the log is tending. 

Who is the most persistent person who has ever lived?

Above: "Amontillado I" c. Portia St. Luke, 1997
(Pastel and charcoal on paper)

Slightly before 1960, Dashrath Manjhi's wife died without any treatment, because the nearest town with a Doctor was 70 km away from their village in Bihar, India. Unfortunately, most of that distance was over a hill in between the village and the town. If it was removed, the trek would have been one-tenth of the distance. Dashrath did not want anyone else to suffer the same fate as his wife. So he did the unthinkable: he single-handedly carved a 360-foot-long (110 m), 25-foot-high (7.6 m) and 30-foot-wide (9.1 m) road by cutting a mountain of Gehlour hills with a hammer, chisel and nails working day and night for 22 years from 1960 to 1982. 

This hand-chiseled passage reduced the distance between Atri and Wazirganj blocks of Gaya district from 70 km to just 7 km.

In 1979, in northern India's Assam region, after flood waters had receded, Jadav "Molai" Payeng, only 16 then, found the place dotted with the dead reptiles. That was the turning point of his life. The teenager began re-seeding the barren sandbar. 30 years later, the spot today hosts a sprawling 1,360 acre of jungle that Payeng planted single-handedly.

22 others, including Cambodian Aki Ra, who personally removed and cleared over 50,000 land mines by himself from Siam Reap region of Cambodia, and Simon Wiesenthal - the Nazi Hunter who dedicated most of his life (post WW II) to documenting and helping hunt down Nazi criminals from all over the world - comprise a list of the most persistent people to have ever lived.

Each story told is amazing, and speaks to the power of perseverance and the will of the human spirit. To read their stories, and vote on which one(s) you feel to be the most persistent person (people) in the world, I encourage you to visit Quora and read the answers to the question, "Who is the most persistent person who has ever lived?"

Mabon Traditions

Above:  "Snow White," c. Portia St. Luke

Mabon, also called the Autumnal or Fall Equinox, was also known throughout Pre-Christian Europe by names such as the Second Harvest, Festival of Dionysus, Wine Harvest, Alban Elfed and Cornucopia. With its browns and oranges, violet, maroon, russet and deep gold, this was the festival for grapes and wine, vines and garlands and gourds, with beautiful images of the Horn of Plenty spilling forth its tasty bounty of the fruits of "Second Harvest." In the New World, Indian corn, rattles, and sun wheels were added to the symbolic elements of this turning of the seasons.  It is also a holiday for recognizing ageing and the end of the natural lifespan of the Sun God, born the previous Yule.  It was known to the indigenous people of Europe that, as every year, he would die his natural death on Samhein, at the mid-point between this Equinox and the Winter Solstice.  After His death, November and much of December pass before the new God-as-Sacred-Child returns to the world, bright and shining, when the light returns after the darkest night of the year.  

But, for now, he is aged, and that age is to be honored.  In this festival, gods and goddesses associated with ageing took their place alongside the more boisterous gods of wine. Wine making and adorning graves both had their place in Mabon custom. The indigenous people of the British Isles often tended to their ancient burial cairns in reverence to this "Autumn of Our Days."  To pass a burial sites and not honor the dead was a terrible taboo.

Dogs, wolves and birds of prey came to be associated with Mabon, as did the stones Amethyst and Yellow Topaz. In addition to the ubiquitous grapes, any vines, and especially ivy, were part of Mabon. Hazel and Cedar trees, hops and tobacco added to celebrating the second harvest.  Traditional herbalists were known to recommend attunement teas with elements (individually or blended) of berries, grape, heather, hops, and sassafras. (Sassafras has been found to have serious health risks, however... I would not recommend it.)

A slightly safer method of honoring the deities can be with ritual oils.  I find the scent of ritual oil or incense perfuming a room can transform that space as easily as good music. Apple blossom, hay/straw, black pepper and patchouly go hand-in-hand with the traditions of Mabon.

Speaking of honoring the Deities, there are plenty to choose from throughout Pre-Christian cultures across the world. All grape and berry goddesses and fruit-vegetable deities seem to play a part in Second Harvest.  Specific Goddesses included: Akibimi (Japanese), Anapurna (Indian), Cessair (Welsh), Epona (Celtic-Gaulish), Harmonica (Greek), Lilitu (Semitic), Mama Allpa (Peruvian), Modron (Welsh), Morgan (Welsh-Cornish), The Muses (Greek), Nikkal (Canaanite), Ningal (Sumerian), Ninkasi (Sumerian), Pamona (Roman), Rennutet (Egyptian), Sin (Irish), Snake Women (Aboriginal), Sophia (Greco-Hebriac), Sura (Indian).

Likewise, with the gods, all wine gods and non-grain harvest gods, as well as gods of fruits, ageing, and abandonment, came to be part of this day.  Dionysus (Roman), Bacchus (Greek), Haurun (Canaanite), Hermes (Greek), The Great Horned God (European), Hotei (Japanese), Iacchus (Greco-Tuscan), Mabon (Welsh), Orcus (Roman) and Thoth (Egyptian) were honored.

A traditional practice is to walk in wild places and forests, gathering seed pods and dried plants. Some of these can be used to decorate the home; others saved for future herbal magick.  (Personally, I try to save them to plant next year, but I'm a gardener as well as an armchair cultural anthropologist.) Feasts tend to revolve around grains, fruits and vegetables, especially corn. Cornbread is traditional fair, as are beans and baked squash.  

To celebrate the fortune of a good harvest while also honoring the dead strikes me as being an amazing combination for this day which, above all else, is about balance:  the balance between light and dark, since, tomorrow, the nights will be longer than the days, and we must begin to brace for the oncoming cold.  Gather friends and family close and celebrate what you have, for, tomorrow, it may not be there.