Friday, September 27, 2013


Try it. You might like it.

flowers for me

Came home from work and cut a big bunch of flowers, an armful of pink hydrangea, another unknown spike of pink flowers, fragrant Sweet Annie, and yellow daisies.

It was a rough week at work. Intense. Lots of human interaction. Mostly pleasant and wonderful, of course, but several encounters with angry and abrasive people. Plus I set mousetraps around the screens where I was drying sunflower seeds and two mice were killed. That was awful. What did I expect? Won't be drying any more seeds: I'll leave that to the professionals.

But I was thinking of a mouse-proof seed dryer. I suppose they exist. A wooden cabinet with racks of screens for drying seeds. Or metal trays with small ventilation holes.

Anyway. Like I said, a rough week. Now comforted by bountiful beauty and fragrance from the garden. 

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

just plain Reiki

On sharing Reiki with others: I guess I'm kind of a plain Reiki practitioner. Like Pamela Miles said: "Hands on: Reiki. Hands off: no Reiki."

The more I do Reiki, the simpler it is.

I don't pant, shake, seize, gesture in the air, dance, rattle, sweep with feathers, talk about chakras, describe my visions, give a psychic reading, grimace, or moan: though I respect and accept those who do.

I'm quiet.  I keep my eyes open so I can check on my client (Pamela Miles again: "Keep your eyes open: this isn't your own private meditation session."), and afterwards I listen to my client's interpretation of the session. I support my client as he or she finds meaning in the session.

Quiet, gentle, plain. Just plain Reiki is enough for me. 

Monday, September 23, 2013


Sending Reiki to my distant friends, to my son and his fiance, to my grandchild, to friends and family, to my past and future selves.

Reiki hands on, self-Reiki every day.

Reiki class, grading persuasive essays, urging students to greater scholarship: read, experience, think, reflect, and write.

Reiki at the annual fundraiser. Energy is building. Excitement. Plans are made and changed. Expecting thousands of people from all over the country.

Reiki. A way to breathe, be, blossom. Just be Reiki: now, later today, and tomorrow. 

MiSt circle method of Reiki

Went to a Reiki share tonight and did a cool thing. I'll call it the Mist circle method.

There were 5 people in our group and we didn't have a table. We had 2 couches, several comfy chairs, a coffee table, and a couple of straight backed chairs. MS invented this cool thing we did.

Two people sat facing each other in the straight backed chairs. We cushioned their arms with pillows. They held hands. The other 3 circled around sharing Reiki, holding the sacred space silently.

There was a lot of wisdom and experience in that room. A lot of compassion. We all shared Reiki: both as practitioner and recipient.

I loved giving, feeling the muscles release, the gentle pulsations of energy. I don't usually want to receive, but tonight I did and it was soothing. Embracing, loving, compassionate. Thank you.

It was the Mist Circular Method. You heard it here. 

Friday, September 20, 2013

soaking up

the solitude, because lots of social time is coming.

A fair, a yoga festival, the big fundraiser, company coming to stay, banquets and parties. Lots of Reiki. Teaching.

So I'm noticing quiet, consulting no one, interacting with humans not at all, and listening to cricket... at least for a few hours per day. I watch the sun rise; I watch the sun set. Temperature rises and falls. The grass is dry, then soaked with dew.

Soaking up serenity, imbibing introversion, preparing for exuberant extroversion.

Thursday, September 12, 2013

red lights of a guiding angel

Drove home in the dark, in the rain. An hour.

Driving in the dark feels like a video game to me. Was rainy too. Tunnel focus on the road ahead, the white lines. Don't marvel at the mist, don't become entranced by the water dripping down the rear window, don't space out listening to tunes. Consider hydroplaning, drunks, and deer. Focus.

So I asked my guides to protect me, focused on the road, and ignored the windshield wipers and patterns of drips and drops. Just get there.

A big slow truck appeared, garnished with many red lights. It went slow, 30 mph, now 45. OK, I'm stuck behind this truck. Usually a speedaholic, I'm curiously OK with this. I leave a respectable distance, I happily go 40, I follow this truck.  I feel protected by it's mass and the driver's competence.

It's dark and rainy, I'm at the end of a 14 hour workday, I'm making it home safely. Slow but safe.

Saturday, September 7, 2013

like home

There's no place like this place.

After a day of son and sunshine there's this place. P &  Q, crickets, sunflowers, and calendula.

The green bean leaves are brown and the plants underperforming. Pulled up and composting now.

Harvested some beets but oh my I've had enough for now. They are going to a friend.

Reading a good book in the summerhouse. Enveloped by trees bushes and flowers. 

third world?

So I'm in Portland.

Walking along Commercial St; there's a sidewalk craft fair. jewelry, scarves, and photo prints. Mostly cheap and ordinary.

One booth has stones, common beach or river stones, but beautifully wrapped in silver. I stop.

The proprietor is an older woman with a round face. She asks me where I'm from. This is a tourist spot. Boat, cruise, and island people pass here:  people from all over the world.

Lewiston, I reply.

Oh, what a shame, what's happened to Lewiston, she says. It's like a third world country.
She pokes my arm.

I wonder what she means. Then I think of downtown, the tree streets, once homes for Franco-American millworkers and now populated by substance abusing low educated low income people with deficient hygiene and coping skills, dependent on charity and government handouts.

Oh, I say to her. Right. The substance abusing low educated low income people with deficient hygiene and coping skills.

She looks at me, pokes my arm. No! All those Somalians!

I look at her, I back away. What? The Somalis are the best thing to happen to Lewiston in 100 years, I tell her. They're hard working peaceful people bringing new life to our city.

She gets in one last poke and starts a rant about police inventing crime to save their jobs.

I smile and walk away.

Thursday, September 5, 2013


a magic woman gave me a green smoothie to drink. Sparks came from her fingers when she handed it to me. 

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

what if...

all the soldiers put down their weapons. What if they refused to fight. What if they recognized each other as brothers and sisters, connected, all one.


Sunday, September 1, 2013


Went to the beach for a swim. The pond beach, not the ocean.

The air was hot and humid, the sky partly sunny, and the water cold. I was in the water when people started to gather on the beach. Mostly T-shirts and shorts, a few summer dresses. Lots of hot pink and turquoise. Oh, guys with black pants or shorts and shirts, turquoise and hot pink vests. One guy had a turquoise Mohawk. One guy had black ear things, I forget what those are called: gauges? He jumped around laughing and taking pictures.

I finished my swim and got back into my beach chair and watched.

One woman stood at the end of the line, near the beach. She wore a blue batik summer dress and flip flops. Long dark hair curled down her back.

Decided my chair was too close. I moved down the beach to give them more space. Kept watching.

The guests shuffled restlessly in the sand.

Then a line of women emerged from the dark forest. They wore turquoise summer dresses. Little girls in pink dresses with turquoise belts tossed flower petals.

Other people on the beach drew nearer, watching.

The bride, white dress, big smile. She joined the groom. Oh, that's the groom? That kid looks about 12. Black pants and vest, white shirt, glasses.

Quick ceremony. Clapping and cheering. People on the beach and in kayaks cheered and clapped.

Loud music: Lady Gaga's Born This Way. That's a funny song to end a wedding. The couple marched triumphantly back to the forest. OH. The groom was a woman, or a person in transition.

The cheering continued. The music got louder. There was a reception rock n roll party under the pines.

It started to rain. The sun came out. Drunk guests drifted down to the beach and into the water. Teenage boys love to wrestle in the water. Toddlers splashed. Kayakers floated back to the beach. Seagulls swooped and a shore bird skittered back and forth, into the water and out. Laughter and music from the reception.

The pond beach.

hot peppers

Long green, small round red, tiny red.

Roasted them with garlic. Added to cheese and fresh tomatoes.

The long green were mild. Small round had a bite. Tiny red were red hot, gasp for breath and grab a glass of ice water.