"An Fainne"

I joined in this month's Poetry Party at Abbey of the Arts (thanks, Christine, for hosting these monthly treats for the soul) and had the following poem come to me. In these Poetry Parties, Christine offers a picture (this month's was of a stone circle in Ireland) and participants are encouraged to use it as a springboard into poetry. It's such a lovely exercise -- like warm fuzzies on a cold day! Be sure to check out her wonderful site.

"An Fainne"

she stood with the grandmothers
and circled with them

pressing her soul into their weary bodies
and feeling buoyed by warm honeyed love.

solar pulses pushed through them
and moved through her,
purging the unnecessary.

lifting chants to the caelum
she gave birth to a desire to rent
the stones she wore,

folding them neatly into the ground
so that the earth may press them into
diamonds for another.

Memory Tree

She was a memory tree,
molting leaves of the past
and willing them into ash.

sometimes she held onto a few green leaves
but only to remind herself why they too
must fall

and
wither

and
die

and tumble to the ground
to become the seeds of her next journey.

Women Who Run with the Wolves -- Part II

In today's reading of Women Who Run with the Wolves, Estes talked about the importance of examining the deaths--both big and small--of our lives.

She writes:

"To make descansos means taking a look at your life and marking where the small deaths, las muertes chiquitas, and the big deaths, las muertes grandotas, have taken place. I like to make a time-line of a woman's life on a big long sheet of white butcher paper, and to mark with a cross the places along the graph, starting with her infancy all the way to the present where roads not taken, paths that were cut off, ambushes, betrayals and death. I put a little cross along the time-line at the places that should have been mourned, or still need to be mourned. And then I write in the background "forgotten" for those things that the woman senses but which have not yet surfaced. I also write "forgiven" over those things the woman has for the most part released" (pp. 365-66).

And this has struck me as a beautiful exercise and one I will undertake soon on retreat. I think part of living life with the force of a goddess is to name the wounds of the past and suture them. This has been much on my mind recently because the past few days (and days to come) mark an anniversary of sorts...of a powerful lesson I learned last year. It broke me apart but I built myself anew and am grateful for the tearing and shaking that now resides in memory only. It's important, methinks, to honor anniversaries of large soul moments like these because they're akin to pomegranates -- you're broken open to discover seeds which give flesh to your new life.

And, I've gone on to have a new life, one full of much joy and happiness; still it's important to acknowledge the work of the past...and there, in my walk towards forgiveness and compassion, I burned great fires of anger and rage over what had occurred. Rage can be a great teacher so long as you don't stay there for very long, which I didn't. As Estes writes, "Even raw and messy emotions can be understood as a form of light, crackling and bursting with energy. We can use the light of rage in a positive way, in order to see into places we cannot usually see" (p. 352).

Anger gave way to confusion and sadness, as I fought to understand what I was feeling and to give it all a voice. I never really got to speak my piece but perhaps I'll be granted an opportunity now that my fires have burned and I am calm. My dreams have been working it out for me over the past year, and I'm grateful for the subconscious of other parties who also show to do this work.

Last, it is my heart's desire that closure of this event and its teaching relationship will become possible -- to meet the Other, to acknowledge the gift that was exchanged, to give thanks for its transfer and to release the Other back into the world with gratitude--I know that it's possible and that it's working its way towards me.

Women Who Run with the Wolves

For the past few months, I have felt compelled to dive into a deeper understanding of archetypes -- something I first learned about in my college psychology courses. Since then, they've cropped up here and there in my reading but I never felt pulled to learn more about them until my intensive study of Jung's work last summer.

Since then, I cannot seem to digest the information quickly enough; this fever to learn more has recently led me to Clarissa Pinkola Estes's "Women Who Run with the Wolves". This book discusses the archetypes most familiar to women and pairs them with well-known stories from our childhood story times. The result is a book of stories through which women can recognize themselves, their counter archetypes (as in what archetypes they're attracting into their lives) and learn to heal themselves as a result. It's been a truly extraordinary reading experience.

Early in my reading, I came across Estes's feeling that there is a wild woman who lives deep within each of us and that, if we can set aside time to journey to her, there is great healing and expression which awaits us.

She writes:

"Each woman has potential access to Rio Abajo Rio, this river beneath the river. She arrives there through deep meditation, dance, writing, painting, prayermaking, singing, drumming, active imagination, or any activity which requires an intensive altered consciousness. A woman arrives in this world-between-worlds through yearning and by seeking something she can see just out of the corner of her eye. She arrives there by deeply creative acts, though intentional solitude, and by practice of any of the arts. And even with these well-crafted practices, much of what occurs in this ineffable world remains forever mysterious to us, for it breaks physical laws and rational laws as we know them" (p. 27).

And, this is another reminder to me to keep working with art and poetry and my dreams and following the rabbit hole as it is presented to me. My work with poems has deepened and I feel called to bring to life some of the stories which find me in the dream world. This work has haunted me for years and I just haven't made time for it...until now! For every artist must claim that gift for him or herself and then make time to come to the table and give birth to what is inside...to complete the work of a life and the work of the soul.

Motorcycles and my lesson in trust

For much of the past year, I've had fun riding around on a motorcycle, even going so far to grab a lesson and look into a bike of my own (Hello, future Honda Nighthawk motorcycle that I shall love riding). I often sit on the back and find there are few things more fun during the warm weather to cool off on a bike and watch the world zoom by at roller coaster speeds.

And, I have to say it is a great lesson in trust, especially when you're in a relationship with the driver. Yesterday, temperatures were in the 80s here in Virginia so we hopped on a bike and went for a several hour ride...mostly running errands. Seated in the back, it was my first ride of the year and it took me a little while to get comfortable back there. And, I must confess, that it involved some moments of sheer panic as the speed flew up and the traffic raced past us. Now, HE is an excellent driver and has owned bikes for much of his life, so I've never felt unsafe with him. I trust him completely and I'm always reminded of HOW much I trust him on the back of the bike.

The more I think of it, the more I believe that a motorcycle is the perfect metaphor for a solid relationship. If you're in the back, you must trust the driver and move with him through all the twists and turns of the road. If not, you can easily cause an accident by throwing off the bike's balance. Sometimes, you just have to lean in and hang on tight ESPECIALLY when you have no clue where you're going. And, you just have to radically trust that you're going to get where you're going...that you're going to do it together and that you'll both arrive in one piece.

And this is what I was thinking about yesterday as we raced through Virginia on the bike. I stopped panicking. I took a deep breath and I jumped into the moment, buoyed by my trust in him (and in his excellent driving skills). Doing so allowed me to relax, sit back and enjoy the ride. A perfect lesson for life with another!

Lessons about Tuscan wines

Sangiovese grapes used to make Chianti and other Tuscan wines

My most recent wine class at Vienna Vintner was the first class in a three part series about Italian wines and dedicated solely to Tuscan creations. Having lived in Italy for a year back in the mid-90s and having visiting several times since, I was keen to know more about what I had been drinking.

We sampled several Chiantis but also other wines from the region. All were delicious...similar but also slightly different depending on the grapes involved and where they were grown. Among the things I learned in class was that most Chiantis are made with the sangiovese grape (literally "the blood of Jove") but they can also feature canaiolo and malvasia bianca. However, in order for a wine to be labeled a Chianti it must have at least 80% sangiovese grapes; it is also perfectly acceptable for a Chianti to be made from 100% sangiovese grapes. Brunello (meaning "nice dark one") is the unofficial name for sangiovese grapes (specifically the clone sangiovese grosso) grown in the Montalcino region of Italy. We tasted a Brunello di Montalcino DOCG (see below) and it was brilliant. As I came to learn, this particular wine was the first to receive the DOCG designation in Italy.

A word on designations: the best way to think about Italian wines is to visualize a pyramid. At the base are your run-of-the-mill (but often very good ) table wines, the middle layer is for the DOC labeled wines, and the peak is reserved for the DOCG labeled wines. A wine with a DOC (Demonizione di Origine Controllata) label indicates that it reached Italian assurance standards for quality. More specifically, it determines the area within which certain grapes may be may be produced, the soil and the arrangements of the vineyards; the grapes and blend of grapes; the method of cultivation; yield of the vineyard and method of vinification; and certain details like the length of maturation and whether wines of different vintages can be blended. Bottles and labels similarly come under control, as well as the names of both wines and firms.

The DOCG designation (Demonizione di Origine Controllata Garantita) simply means that it has gone above and beyond the DOC label and that its contents have been "guaranteed". So, when you see this label on an Italian wine you can rest assured that it has been subject to incredibly stringent practices and has been analyzed and tasted by government-licensed personnel.

Also worth noting about Italian wines, many are organic and biodynamic. Best of all, due to the fact that so many vineyards have been passed down through generations, most Italian wine is not terribly expensive. One of the reasons wine can be expensive today is because of the overhang costs that torment some winemakers -- owing on the land, equipment, etc... Most Italian winemakers have owned the land for generations, helping the consumer along in the process.

1. Vernaccia, San Gimignano, DOCG. This delicious wine received 6 months fermentation in stainless steel, never touching oak once.

2. Gavi di Gavi, La Soraia, DOGC, 2007. This wine was made with 100% cortese grapes. This wine had a crisp taste and was full of minerals and would go wonderfully with pasta alfredo or seared scallops.

3. Chianti, Colli Fiorentini, DOCG, 2007. This wine really cut the palette, cleansing it nicely for the next bite of food. Its bouquet is full of damp earth and has a lighter color -- almost like blood mixed with water.

4. Chianti Classico Riserva, 2004. This wine was full of dark berry fruit, dark cranberry, damp earth and subtle notes of sweet vanilla. Chianti must have at least 85% sangiovese grapes in order to be characterized as being a Chianti.

5. Brunello Rosso di Montalcino, Canetta, DOCG, 2004. A Brunello can only be 100% sangiovese grapes and this particular one was aged for 24 months in the barrel. It was incredibly smooth and delicious.

6. Pico della Marronaia, 2004. This wine's bouquet was full of damp earth and had qualities which seemed to me like chalk. It left my mouth feeling almost dry, as in it had somehow sucked all the flavor out of my mouth, leaving me with a perfectly cleansed palette. A Pico is usually a blend of three separate grapes -- sangiovese, merlot and syrah. This wine would be perfect with grilled meat and really flavorful cheeses. Last, it was aged first in French/American oak and then aged in a bottle.

7. Brunello di Montalcino, Canneta, DOCG, 2003. 100% sangiovese grapes but not as severe as other Tuscan wines.

Other good tidbits of knowledge and quotes from my teacher:

Italy has 20 regions and traditionally each region has matched its wine to the food found locally. So, wines coming from near the ocean would be well suited to seafood and wines from landlocked areas would be nicely paired with local game and meat.

"Life is hard. Life is short. Wine is good."

"Wine is a prisoner of war. She wants to run around the block and then wear you like a sweater. She's pissed off -- let her party."

Marathon Training Lesson #1: Epsom Salts

After several days of intense running (Monday=3 miles, Tuesday=4 miles, Wednesday=6 miles) my knees were tender and in need of some assistance. One of my favorite tricks to soothe sore muscles, heal my spirit and cleanse my energy fields is to take a hot bath, adding in 3 cups of epsom salts. I usually also add some sort of essential or bath oils -- last night was several tablespoons of Aura Glow -- to help ease any ailments I may be feeling mentally or physically. And, I soaked for a good 30 minutes last night, massaging my leg muscles and feet and letting the concoction work its magic.

I'm not sure why baths soothe me as much as they do. Perhaps it's because I'm a water sign on the zodiac or maybe it's because my grandmother is a big bath taker and I got it from her. Regardless of the reason, I consider bathtime a sacred time and I heavily ritualize the experience by cleaning the tub before filling it, lighting candles, darkening the space and easing myself into the mix, asking the wild woman of the desert (La Loba) to come to me, to come to my bones, and to heal me in those spaces only water can reach.

Running the Chicago Marathon -- October 11, 2009

Yep! I'm running the Chicago Marathon this October. My sister and I are both runners and we've each toyed with the the idea of running a marathon at some point in our lives. So, while we were exploring Santa Fe together last month we looked at each other and said, "Hey, let's do this thing and let's do it together."

So, there it is. For better or worse, we're in this thing and I think both of us are experiencing all kinds of emotions and fears...at least I am! The sheer weight of running 26 miles hit me when I went for a long 7 mile run in Santa Fe last month. I'm running around and thinking about how great the run was feeling and then it hit me...whoa, I would have to do that run an additional 2+ times and then add five more miles on top of it. EEK!

But, I embrace the challenge and expect to find all kinds of spiritual and physical epiphanies along the training and race roads. It is an incredible opportunity to meditate on what I can accomplish with this body and mind of mine. Last, I am reminded of Sister Madonna, a 76-year-old Catholic nun who has participated in more triathlons and marathons than most people combined. She's been in the back of my mind ever since I saw her interviewed on TV several years ago. Her sage advice is this: she says that whenever she hits tough spots in her runs, she begins to meditate upon her steps, focusing on making "every step pleasing." She's truly inspirational, and I have a hunch that my thoughts will gravitate towards her philosophy and example in the coming months.

Lessons about Shiraz/Syrah/Petit Sirah

Shiraz/Syrah grapes

A couple of weeks ago, I headed out to another wine class at Vienna Vintner dedicated to the differences between Shiraz/Syrah and Petite Sirah wines. It was such a terrific class and I'll share as much as I can remember here.

First up, the grapes! The Shiraz grape is dark in color and grown across the world but may appear under different names depending on where you are. For example, Shiraz is what it is known as in Australia but it is more widely known in Europe, parts of South America and in sections of the US as Syrah. Petite Sirah, on the other hand, is very different and is otherwise known as Durif -- a descendant of the Syrah grape but blended with Peloursin plants.

Next up, bouquets and profiles. Shiraz/Syrah wines can be ruby red and dark in color and their bouquets can have a myriad of smells and flavors present depending on the wine maker's practices and soil quality/location. The dominant taste is usually black pepper, dark ripe cherries, blackberry, current, leather and truffles.

Petite Sirah wines usually will be darker in color, almost an inky purple, than their Syrah counterparts. The bouquet can have herbal, black pepper and, sometimes, if they are aged in oak, can develop the aroma of melted chocolate.

Last, the wines we tasted.

1. "Piping Shrike", Shiraz, Barossa Valley, Australia, 2006. A combination of white pepper and baked blueberry pie filling...really!

2. "JT Cellars", Petite Sirah, Lodi, California, 2006. I described it as being: earthy, smoother than #1 with a fuller body than a Pinot. Damp dirt and chalky..."lead pencil". Great for steak and lamb.

3. "Zaca Mesa", Syrah, Santa Ynez Valley, 2004. Black cherry and current.

4. "JT Cellars", Syrah, Lodi, California, 2006. Smooth, like the Petite but still different...very opaque in color, almost inky and fruity. Bruce Walker is the winemaker.

5. "Barnwood", Petite Sirah, Santa Barbara California highlands, 2006. Mineral taste but also the quality of damp earth.

6. "Plaisir des Lys", Minervois, France, 2003. Very distinct taste but with an aroma of end of season roses and lavender.

7. "McCrea Cellars", Syrah, Walla Walla, Washington, 2004. A really good Syrah...strong and just a tad sweet.

***Stay tuned...this week I will be posting on food/wine pairings and about my class on Italian wines from the Tuscan region. Look for updates to this post, as well...I need to find my additional set of notes but thought I'd at least start with this.

Dreams

Perhaps it is the greening of the Earth, but I woke up today with a great desire to transport myself to a meadow filled with wildflowers where I would lay back into the fluff with my eyes on the sky, searching the clouds for shapes.

Sigh. Doesn't that just sound so lovely?

Reason 758 Why I Love C.S. Lewis

He got the idea to write "The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe" from a dream! C.S. Lewis recalled that the idea for this book first came to him when he was about 16 and began with a picture of a "faun carrying an umbrella and parcels in a snowy wood." He said that the image sat in his mind until he was about 40 years old when it suddenly seemed like the right time to try to make it into a story.

Lewis said: "At first I had little idea how the story would go. But then suddenly Aslan came bounding into it. I think I had been having a good many dreams about lions about that time. Apart from that, I don't know where the Lion came from or why he came. But once he was there he pulled the whole story together, and soon he pulled the six other Narnian stories in after him." (nota bene: you can read more about this in a few places. Please see C.S. Lewis's "Of Other Worlds", p. 42 or Robert Moss's new book "The Secret History of Dreaming", p. 104.)

C.S. Lewis is just one of several authors and musicians and other creative folk who obtain their ideas from the dream world. Even Stephenie Meyer (of recent "Twilight" fame) received the idea for the first book of her series from a powerful dream that propelled her to write.

My point is that dreaming is such a powerful and necessary activity. It is part of life or, as I believe, life itself and it would be a shame to waste all those hours just on sleep when you could be downloading important information on and about yourself and how to help this world of ours, whether through entertainment or in discovering the next big cure or revolutionary idea or (fill in the blank).

Just get dreaming. You won't regret it and will soon find it as necessary as breathing. Promise.

Santa Fe: Images and Words

Near the Church of Loretto, Santa Fe, March 2009

***

"Migrate towards the path little by little...just keep moving over to it."
~ "Uncle Dale", proprietor of Artistic de Santa Fe


Candles inside the Church of Loretto, March 2009

and they encountered kindred spirits,
brushing past each other on the good red road

***

wooden statue of Joan of Arc, Santa Fe, March 2009

i come to the desert to take of clean pure waters and subtler magic.
the waters soothe my spirit and give me refreshment.

and i drink deeply.

***

Georgia O'Keeffe Museum facade, March 2009.

"[I try to capture] the unexplainable thing in nature that makes me feel the world is so big far beyond my understanding -- to understand maybe by trying to put it into form. To find the feeling of infinity on the horizon line or just over the next hill."
~ Georgia O'Keeffe, 1977

***

Along Canyon Road, March 2009

i belong here.

words and images flutter about like butterflies,
resting gently on your shoulders.

***

Near the Church of Loretto, March 2009

"In fact I think most pictures of the Southwest are to a great extent false because the painters get blinded into whiteness, make pale pictures where the real color of New Mexico is deep and strong...I only want to find whatever of the great spirit there is in the Southwest. If I can hold it on my canvas I am satisfied."
~ Robert Henri, 1923

***

Near Santa Fe's downtown square, March 2009.

"My people, we believe that all is one great circle...all of life is a circle. My finger is a circle and my wrist is a circle. The earth is a circle and so is the universe.

We are all connected. We are all one."
~ Rodey Lee Guerro, Navajo silversmith

***

One of Santa Fe's main drags, March 2009

it smells familiar here,
lavender and white copal and juniper
and something more.

an energy home.

i will return.

O'Keeffe & Stieglitz

Georgia O'Keeffe, photograph 1918, taken by Alfred Stieglitz

When I was a graduate student at Yale, I was dating a fellow student who held a part-time job at Yale's Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library. He was the individual who would disappear into the Beinecke treasure trove and re-emerge with priceless artifacts requested by various researchers and students.

I once asked him why he purposely sought out a job at the Beinecke and he told me it was because he was able to disappear into these stacks holding so much history and make discoveries of his own. In fact, he said this job was of such interest to him that he'd use his breaks to sit down in the stacks and read private letters between artists and other historical figures.

It was around this time that he became fascinated with the private letters between O'Keeffe and Stieglitz. He would come home quoting passages which struck him and did his best to describe the ardent passion and respect that they felt for each other...almost blushing with his descriptions.

***

I had forgotten about this memory and these moments but they flooded back to me when I visited Santa Fe's O'Keeffe Museum at the end of March. The memory was so vivid, I felt compelled to write the following:

standing in the beinecke reading
private words between artists --
he would tell her about snippets
which struck him and,
most of all,
of the passion which burned the letters
onto his memory
and which he later
transferred onto her skin.

Santa Fe: Blossoms into Snow

Santa Fe, New Mexico, March 2009

Sometime during the late winter, my sister and I decided to get together for a vacation, mostly because we hadn't seen each other very much in the past year and were missing each other. After mulling over where to go and what to do, we settled upon Santa Fe, New Mexico. Neither one of us had been there before but we'd heard such lovely things about its people, its art community and its proximity to several Native American pueblos that the decision was made without hesitation.

And, yet, our first encounter with Santa Fe made us giggle out loud with shock and disbelief. We were greeted with snow, more specifically the beginnings of a snowstorm that I was lucky enough to dodge in Denver! Here we were in desert, trying to escape cold winters in Chicago and DC, and it was snowing!

As we made our way towards our downtown lodgings, I was mesmerized by how the early and delicate spring blossoms merged with the lazy snowflakes and became indistinguishable. It was another reminder for me that all is connected...that everything is ONE. Even more of a shock was the four+ inches of fresh snow, gusting winds and a chilly 17 degrees which rapped upon our windowpane the next morning.

Here is the first poem which found me during my stay:

seated near the hearth, she looked out the window

and watched the clouds release shaped crystal,

shivering as the cold worked its way into the crevices of her bones.

the wind howled and blew delicate blossoms into snow,

into whorls and whirls --

pushing them towards a powdery rest.

she, too, hurtled herself out into the elements,

reveling as their severity enveloped her,

stripping her of all that was not hers...

forcing her to breathe again.