Animá Lifeways & Herbal School

Gathering Wood at Sunset and other Joys

I was getting ready to clean up after supper yesterday when I remembered an errand I’d wanted to do before dark. I was especially happy to remember it because “glowy time” was just beginning! As many of you know, what I call “glowy time” is that special time of morning or evening when everything looks kind of candlelit from within, if that makes any sense. There is always some degree of glowy time every morning and evening, but sometimes it passes so quickly it can be easy to miss it. I love it when glowy time lights up the sky with colors so amazing that even indoors everyone’s faces suddenly look extra radiant, the walls turn shades of pink and orange, and it becomes completly impossible to stay inside!

By the time I got out to the shed with the wheelbarrow, there were big streaks of rosyness in the sky, with streaks of brightening blue-grey-purple in between.  I got what I needed into the wheelbarrow and felt myself pulled to admire the cliffs on the north side of the dry wash, and found a beautiful fallen oak that I couldn’t believe I’d never stopped to marvel at before. I wandered around for a while enjoying the crisp air and incredible sky and then came upon a fallen tree with many dry limbs that had fallen across a trail. I broke off a number of the limbs and brought them back to near the kitchen, where Wolf took my picture before I broke them up for kitchen wood. I love having a nice pile of biggish kindling for fire tending, to get the fire going well again when it’s died down. And I get so much pleasure out of gathering wood myself, whether it’s for the kitchen, the den, or the bath, or if it’s serious hunting of big pieces of oak for a sweat fire. It’s a special thing to have the chance to connect with the trees, whether they’re fallen over, or I’m leaping up to break off dry limbs. It gets me in my body and fills me with so much gratitude getting to spend time with them in their whole form before they’re in the fire. I love to admire the special ways they’ve grown around rocks or lightning scars, the patterns in the bark, the amazing gesture in each tree that reflects its many years of dancing with the wild canyon winds. It’s very similar to me to the feeling of honoring a wild animal we’ve hunted by petting it and giving it love after its death, though I’m sure that might seem a strange parallel to some folks!

Well, now it’s morning, and I got up very early so now it’s glowy time again! Time to bring my tea outside and give so much thanks for another beautiful day in this land of my dreams-come-true!! So much love and glowyness to you all, hope you all will be sure to catch the glowies coming your way each day, and honor the trees and fires that help bring light to this season of blessed darkness!!

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We definitely aren’t waiting until the Equinox to wish you all a Happy Spring!  Temperatures are warmer than normal across most of the country, flowers are sprouting here in the canyon, and the Junipers are already releasing clouds of nose-tickling pollen into the air.  Wolf’s normally short nights are even shorter due to his allergies, and he’s hard at work today after only 2 hours of sleep.  I have had a tickley nose too, making it harder for me to sing as I do to praise the canyon, announce a hot outdoor bath, or call our girl Rhiannon back from a riverside adventure.

While I love singing songs with lyrics (on key or not!), the melodies people know me for tend to have tones instead of words, evocations of the spirit of this magical place as I feel and channel it.  Kiva pointed out how first time visitors usually think they are hearing playing a cascade of notes on the flute but eventually realize it’s just me, letting some of the joy and power of the place come out after taking so much in!  Wolf worked with me to write and record a few of these freeform songs, for the album we did a decade or so ago called “The Enchantment” by GaiaTribe.  It was produced with alternative audiences in mind, and while still available on CD from us ($1- to 20. suggested donation), we wish we had created it with a wider audience in mind.  For those of you who have wondered how I sound, I want to offer you a free album cut in Mp3:

Song for the Ancient Ones:   01-song-for-the-ancient-ones.mp3

Just imagine me singing standing on the rock above the river, birds replying and river supplying a drone as the notes echo off the cliffs.  Hope you enjoy it!

Also big thank you’s go out this month to Apprentice Applicant Renee’ who has volunteered to take over the bulk of the Animá outreach.  We simply don’t have the time to do this well and never have, so hopefully she will not just be good at it but get satisfaction form reaching more people.  There are a few ways that you could help her and us, if you want.  Please write us or post us with any:

-Ideas and addresses for cool shops, cafes and learning centers that might be willing to post Animá correspondence course or event flyers

-Contact info for any online magazines, forums etc. that we can either submit articles to or post about events on

-URLs for websites you think might be a good fit for our traditing links with

-The names and addresses of any regional or national publications (food, herbal, ecology, nature, spiritual) that you suggest we try to write for

 Your help and ideas, like your love, always means a huge amount to us!

For a sense of what it means to feel this native and placed, I suggest reading “The History of Animá Center” found in the archives at left, and the continuing series “The Search for Home” which we’re posting part 4 of below.

Have a WONDERFUL early Spring!

-Hugs, Loba

(Photo of Kiva (on the left) and Loba (on the right) (c) 2008 by Jesse Wolf Hardin)

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The wonderful renovation of my dear kitchen has brought to light my lifetime of fearing change and trying to keep things largely the same.  I was very attached to the way things were in my lovable, huggable niche, attached to the way I’m able to nestle into its lovely curvy counters as I drink a cup of tea, and to the rhythm of my ever-spiraling  movements in its little 8 by 10 foot space. I even had a funny attachment to the spot in the floor where the breath of the ground came through and I thought of it as my sipapu – like the hole that the ancient peoples always made in their kivas, an avenue for Spirit to enter. But over the years, the little split in the linoleum grew and grew, until I often tripped on it and it became hard to keep clean. And so for the past year or so we had been discussing possible ways of fixing it, whether we should patch it up or do something more drastic.

I never doubted the practicality of it, mind you. Kiva and I were finding it hard to cook at the same time without constantly bumping into each other, with me coming close to injuring her on numerous occasions with my tendency to gesture excitedly with hot spatulas and pans! Plus, with all the blessings of her incredible online shopping skills, the pantry had outgrown itself. More and more, we were both feeling the need to make room for the pounds of dried shitake mushrooms, bulk teas and spices, sea vegetables, whole grains for sprouting and grinding, and quality decaf coffee. And as part of her medicine woman magic, Kiva had created so many herbal vinegars, oils, honeys, salves, tinctures, herbs for Wolf’s infusions and fermented drinks that every available shelf and cranny was overflowing.
As hard as it was to accept the role or trust my abilities, I had by then accepted the blessing of being an excellent cook. Even though everything I had valued when I was growing up had one way or another been stripped from me, after arriving in the canyon I was somehow able to accept and believe in the reality of a kitchen of my own, in a home that no one would ever take away. I’d taken in the blessings of love, and all the gifts and skills I’d been working so hard to develop. What I continued to have trouble with was the shift in self image that came with my engagement with the real world beyond hope and imagination, with any alteration in what I knew and believed, with the onset of my first white hairs and the uninvited lines on my face.  What I had the hardest time accepting, I realize, was the gift of change.

When I sat down with Resolute to first envision the possibilities, I was as excited as a little kid!  At a deeper level, change still felt like a threat to the integrity and form of all that I cherished.  It seemed like the waves of the ocean trying to pull me from the rock solid world I cling to. Loving this dear wilderness sanctuary, change could mean a fire that would burn down the forest we live in and the native species we’d restored. Finding true love, change could mean getting less of that love if not losing it altogether. Aging seemed like a change from life in the direction of death. On the other hand, my teaching of Animá has meant seeing not only the value of change, but the necessity. Changing the way genders relate, and mothers teach their children. Changing the way we treat ourselves as well as the earth. Changing society from a fear and war based paradigm to a community of cooperation and caring. Growth is change, as is wising up, and growing stronger. Improving is change as much as loss or damage, and accepting change was for me an important improvement.

From the time I gave my blessing to the project, it wasn’t long before Wolf cut out the section of the wall separating what had been the dining room. With every layer of old carpet and linoleum I helped pull up, I felt us getting closer to our vision of what the kitchen could be: an oasis of beauty and inspiration, nourishment and satisfaction. As I write this, we’re still waiting for help with counters and cabinets… but with the newly laid tile, it already feels so beautiful I just want to light candles, burn sage, drink tea on the floor and admire it. I want to polish the silver trim on the old cookstove, cover the plastic water jugs with pretty Indian tapestry material, replace the old trash cans, and start using a more attractive compost bucket that Wolf got. I intend to find pretty gallon jars to fill with my many treasures of grains, beans and pickled wonders and clean out all the existing cabinets. I’ll go through the pantry and sort out anything that doesn’t belong, and make (and then keep!) everything as nice as this rose-tinted tile floor.

In this profound evolution of the kitchen I see a mirror of my own personal shifts. I give myself credit for overcoming my resistance and embracing the changes that were happening in my life and home. For letting go of attachment to the way things were. For accepting the help of so many loving people in this concerted effort, when some part of me wishes I could do it all on my own and not trouble anyone. For finally getting to a place in my life where I feel worthy of such blessings, and for being committed to maintaining, treasuring and honoring this kitchen for the temple that it has always been but is now so much more, now. For being able to deeply appreciate the changes and for being as thrilled as always about those things that remain the same: the view out the windows, the wind that flows through, the dancing fire in the hundred year old cookstove, the food in the pantry, the curvy counters, antique cookware, drying canyon herbs, precious canyon stones, handmade lace and knickknacks…and for the unchanging love I feel every time I cook a meal.
Next I will learn to welcome other alterations of my daily existence and maybe even the appearance of the beautiful white hairs that once gave me fits… accepting the ways in which change can be a progression, a healing and a gift.

-By Loba (www.animacenter.org)

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Hello again, as a busy Summer begins! This picture is taken of Kiva hoding a baby chipmunk that Wolf eased out of a watering can where it was firmly stuck! It liked being petted, and curling up in her bosom, so it was hard for her to set it free after it warmed up and recovered!

Lots going on, on top of Wolf and Kiva trying to keep up with writings and emails. Each morning Wolf is up at first light, sometimes after a sleepless night, writing to some of the dozens of people who need email responses. By ten a.m. Kiva has completed her other morning tasks including tending plants and making medicines, and has taken over the job of responding to the various magazine editors, people querying about courses or interviews, and to supporters and friends anxious to hear back. If they work fast, they are usually caught up enough by mid afternoon to switch to working on correspondence course curricula and responses to students’ lessons, always watching for spare moments to give to the editing of our four unpublished manuscripts, and to writing the four other new books now in progress! Some local folks who visit us have a hard time imagining that we are so engaged doing things, and some even think we must get bored! Actually, I am trying to bake and teach math to our little girl at the same time as writing this blog!

Working with students is taking up a larger and larger portion of our working hours, as we get a few more signing up every month. Each gets a monthly lesson with three or so exchanges that include Kiva or Wolf’s detailed comments and personalized assignments, so it adds up quick. The lessons are still being compiled and formalized on demand, and so have to be ready for the lead students in each of the four different Anima courses. They are so happy, though, with how much deeper they can go with each person, working closely with them for a year or more. It seems we’re also be encouraged to put more emphasis on the courses, by the fact that we haven’t gotten as many registrations for events yet as in the past. We decided that if we don’t get the necessary number of participants this Summer, we will be limiting the total number of gatherings in 2009 to two or three instead of six. We went ahead and paid for a postering service in Tucson to keep flyers up a month ahead of each of this year’s events, to make sure we’re doing all the outreach for them that we can.

Wolf told me about the recent food riots in Africa and Haiti, and how food and other living costs are effected by the ever increasing cost of fuel (he suggested I recommend the book by a guy named Kunstler, “The Long Emergency”, for anyone interested in the possible long term effects of running out of oil). People in the U.S. are increasingly finding that they don’t have enough income to cover both food and travel expenses, and he heard on the news how people in general will be going to events or on vacations less. He described how when the economy weakens, the market for things like beer and bullets increases, but things like art, ecology and personal growth get less and less attention. And how desperate people can turn to despotic rulers and bad technologies for relief. It helps us feel the importance of what we make available here, to know a little bit about what humanity and the planet could be up against in the coming years and decades! And if fewer people end up being able to come all the way here because of less money and gas, it will make the expanding correspondence courses feel that much more valuable.

Supporter and student Shay’s sweat was impressive, and she truly amazed me with her insistence on doing almost all of the highly physical preparations by herself. She hauled huge amounts of wood to the site, hauled stones, tended the fire, and fully engaged herself in the sweat ceremony itself. And, very remarkably, when I asked her after the sweat, if she wanted her shoes, she thought for a while and said, “No, I don’t think I do!” and proceeded to walk about a quarter of a mile barefoot, with very cold feet. Sitting in the river at dawn is enough to make even the most hardy of us consider the blessing of footwear… but she wanted the benefits of discomfort, to demonstrate her insistence, and to invest that level of effort. As a supporter she is helping in many ways including the development and production of the Gifting Bones runes, the donation of the laptop we post these blogs on, and the professional self publishing of some of our books. And as the first apprentice, she launches a tradition intended to grow, evolve, and last for generations!

When I returned to the kitchen after the sweat, I had a wonderful surprise! Kiva had been not only tending the fire, but cooking up a storm! She told me to go sit down in the dining room while she finished the last touches on a huge plateful of black-eyed peas, with a crispy tortilla with sauteed shitake mushrooms, onions, dock greens, sausage and cheese! She watched in amazement as I polished off the whole plate, and ate an orange too! I was in heaven! There sure is nothing quite like being welcomed with lovingly cooked food!

Thank you for all the letters, and the growing number of comments made directly on this blog. It feels like I am talking to our allies as far away as dear Chance and Dr. Blue are, hanging out with shamans in Central America. I like to think of the Anima blog as a warm campfire around which we all come together!

-Love, Loba

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As the moon rises over the volcanic cliffs, the New Mexico canyon I caretake fills with the glad howls of twenty re-wilding women! A neighborhod activist all the way from North Carolina, seeking inspiration to reinvigorate her work. A mother, taking an opportunity to nourish herself the way she usually tends others. A Florida business woman, getting in touch with her needs, her dreams, her playfulness. Elders, and youth, marking their transitions with a May week next to a winding river. Each seems to sense that they are welcomed by an ancient spirit, encircled by a protective river, and soon we are feeling safe enough to take the risk of expressing and embodying our truths. Self consciousness gives way to the magic, as we’re empowered by what we’re able to give… and as we so appreciate what each woman gives us in return!

When humans all lived closely with the natural world, in tribes that were like big families, self confidence and self esteem came a lot more naturally to us. From a young age, we were given responsibilities and challenges that served as rites of passage. Our confidence grew as we learned to haul water and find wood, identify plants for food and medicine, start fires without a match, tend to our sick and enliven the tribal fires with our stories and wholesome enthusiasm. At home in the natural world, we felt a deep connection to all that surrounded us, and we prove that it is possible for us to feel that still. That was the inspiration and motivation when we first thought of this event back in 2000.

Of all the gatherings held in this remote canyon, the Wild Women’s Gathering has the greatest emphasis on this personal reconnection to primal instinct, the old ways, and living on the land. I enjoy seeing the effect of the participants of camping out together, sleeping close to the ground and to their individual untamed dreams, gathering wood as a group and then sitting around the campfire and sharing very personal stories. Practicing medicine making, gathering and preparing native foods. Identifying edible plants, but also identifying the imagined limitations and persistent fears that hold us back. Doing without the comforts, distractions, habits and schedules, and experiencing what it feels like to exist for awhile without all that. The “Wild” we celebrate is not being ”licentious” or “out of control” as dictionaries claim, but being one’s authentic, responsive self… resting, sharing, learning, savoring and reveling! Their brand of wildness is being in touch with their hungers and hurts, needs and desires, moon cycles and life rhythms, meaning and purpose. In the wind’s stirrings I can feel the movement happening in these women’s lives, growing and flowing wilder than ever!

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(Note: I wrote the following for my column in SageWoman, a wonderful women’s magazine: www.sagewoman.com)

“Mama,” little Rhiannon said, looking up at me lovingly… a simple word that a part of me had long wanted to hear.  I’d always wondered if I would become a mother. I felt drawn to all the little ones I saw, and loved to play with them more than hanging out with other adults.  Then I found myself imagining what a mix of my man’s and my traits might be like, maybe a child with his Viking strength and my pigeon toes, one with his intense awareness but still as silly sweet as me.  Yet for many reasons I continued to avoid getting pregnant.  During my crazy early years I didn’t have a dependable relationship, and once I finally did I was at the point of realizing how much I needed the focused time to mother myself.  I couldn’t possibly have given as well to a daughter then, when I hadn’t done the work of understanding, accepting, nurturing and growing my long neglected being.  On top of it all, it weighed on me knowing that it was endless population growth fueling most disastrous environmental tragedies, government oppression and war, and that our offspring would be part of that regardless of how much we might want to think of them as exceptions.  Not to mention my worry over what kind of scary society and world a child would be facing in the future!

“Pick me up, Mama!” Rhiannon implored, not very long after our Anima Codirector Kiva approved her daughter calling me “Mama Loba.”  Dear Kiva’s commitment to our good work and special home made it possible for me to give my heart completely to the then four year old girl, without the terror of imagining her later being taken away. Rhiannon loved having the extra love and attention from the very start, and would have liked being raised by an entire village of mamas if instead of running a wilderness women’s center we were a primitive tribe. Actually, if you ask Rhiannon, she’ll tell you she has four mamas: Kiva and myself, Tabitha Twitchett (her pretend mother when she’s playing with all her Beatrix Potter-inspired pretend friends)… and Mother Earth!

It’s been nearly four years now since I first accepted the role, and gave wholly my heart.  And every day of that, from the beginning, has been filled with joy for both of us!  If I’m baking something she’s interested in, she asks me to wake her up before it’s fully light out for the privilege of helping squish down the huge bowl full of dough and shape into bagels. What pleasure and satisfaction I get teaching her how to do things, and tend things. And the more we do together, the happier she is. It’s so fun washing dishes with my little apron wearing helper sitting on the floor pre-scrubbing the dirty pots for me, telling me the latest news in her huge world of imaginary friends. I get to hear all about the latest mischief Bucket and Moppet the kittens have gotten into, what the polar bears have been baking (they have a wood-fired oven out at the woodshed, and they’re most often making pizza) , how much honey Pooh has left. She loves to give baths to all the little old fashioned toys and trinkets we have around the house, watering plants with the water from the bathtub, and harvesting wild mustard and dock with me for our Canyon grown salads.  We love getting dressed up in similar outfits and dancing in the dining room to Van Morrison’s Tupelo Honey, or swirling around like faery princesses to Lorenna McKennit.  Then I sing with her in my arms as we stand outside watching the glowy-time sunset colors swirling through the canyon clouds.

Of course there are plenty of challenges even on the best days. I love being playful with her so much that I think she often views me as more of an equal than an adult, and it can be hard for both of us whenever it’s necessary to insist on any limits and boundaries.  Plus I’ve found that I have a hard time not acting frustrated whenever I run out of patience.  I work to figure out what we want to teach her about life, way beyond the necessary schoolwork. I’m learning that every moment is a chance to be the best role model I can be.  I see how much she appreciates it when I recover quickly from some disappointment or mistake, when I maintain a sense of humor and don’t take things too seriously.  And  also I know it’s important to show her that there are some things that are serious, and demand our focus, attention, and respect.

Part of the work, too, has been forgiving myself for any ignorance or slip-ups.  I try to keep in mind that I don’t have to be everything she needs in a parent all by myself.  That’s one of the benefits of co-parenting, and a reason for raising a child in a more tribal way – supporting each other in being the unique gift we are to the child, and to help make opportunities for each parent or role model to give their special gifts.  Rhiannon spends time with her Mama Kiva learning about plants and medicines, mythology and culture, and how to have a strong sense of herself. She spends her time with me learning about tending  and loving herself, the canyon and others.  And with her Papa Wolf, learning about history and art, animals and spirit, about how to be a warrior empath, giving things her fullest effort, and so much more!

The results of expecting a lot from her, and from ourselves as parents and teachers, have been truly impressive!  At six years old, she can read at a third grade level, writes long stories, letters and poetry, types on the computer, harvests many native plants for medicinal and culinary purposes.  She can build and tend a fire, do embroidery and other simple sewing, notices many things that need tending to on her own, can help find lost things, run errands quickly, can wade through a river up to her waist, carry a backpack with about 1/4 of her weight in it, and can show remarkable sensitivity and respect for people’s space and processes.

Rhiannon’s enthusiasm, playfulness and huge heart full of love are extended to every person that makes the long journey here.  All year long she receives cards and gifts from past students and guests, describing how affected they were by her joyful, generous presence, and what a blessing it was to them to see a little girl with this much love of life, growing up in a place that nourishes her and gives her so many real challenges and lessons.  Her bravery and willingness to engage deeply with her home helps many to see their own potential, and inspires them to do the same.  I commented to a  recent guest how great it was to see her walking around without shoes, and she replied, “I saw Rhiannon coming down that cliff in her bare feet, and I thought, if that little girl can do it, so can I!”  And yet as sociable as she can be, she counsels guests about the value and fun of solitude. Every other day, from the time she was four, she’s gone about 1/2 mile downriver by herself for her “alone time”, which she spends singing to the clouds, dancing with the fairies, speaking to the river and in turn hearing what the river has to say.  And knowing that many of the women that come here to the Anima Center are in need of solitude, Rhiannon has learned to sense or ask us about when distractions are inappropriate, and to respect space and process.

The day will come when Rhiannon will leave to explore the world beyond the canyon, and she already talks about how much she’s interested in traveling and meeting all kinds of of people. She’s not even sure if she really wants to be a medicine woman, or if she’d rather be a princess and go to a lot of parties, or if she can somehow do both.  Regardless, it is for us to empower her to have her own mind and follow her heart, wherever they take her.  I will one day taste the sadness of her leaving, not even knowing for sure if she will choose to remain close to either her own nature or the natural world. Yet every day as I watch her amazing dancing being skipping through the forest, the riverbanks, and across the woodpile, I know that every place in the canyon is forever blessed and changed by her shining, swirling, whirling, loving presence. However far she will roam, I will look at her spot by the stove on the kitchen floor where she once stirred and sang and scrubbed, and feel the amazing sweetness and power of her gifts to me, as I feel the presence of the ancestors that once loved their children here, as palpably as I feel the gift of a canyon rain on my face. I will walk the paths and forever see her little body running full tilt towards me, with her arms outstretched, for me to pick her up.

She sees how I get sad when she talks about leaving, and growing up, and she always says, “Don’t worry Mama Loba, I’ll always keep coming back home, I promise.” She tells Kiva that when we’re old she’ll come back to live with us and raise her babies here, and be the one to carry the water and cook and light the fires, so that we can rest and make dolls and talk to the plants. But of course that’s something we can’t expect, only a miracle to hope for.

I will likely never know the feel of a developing child kicking in my uterus, the pain of stretching and tearing, or what it is like to be dosed with the satisfying hormones of pregnancy.  And unlike Kiva, I didn’t have to suffer abuse from Rhiannon’s biological father or deal with three years of raising a baby alone on the streets.  And yet with every passing year of tending her, feeding her, playing with her, soothing her or crying with her, answering her questions and running with her and her imaginary friends on the river sand, she feels more and more of me… not of my womb, but my heart. I would have a very hard time being a mother without Kiva’s help, and probably would have never tried it.  But I own the title now, even if I don’t have the stretch marks.  I am blessed to be not only a wife and a teacher of Anima, but also “Mama Loba,” a gift to a child, while letting the child be a gift to me… honored and grateful for the magical opportunity to be the best mother I can be!

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Hello Friends!

I’ve made fun of Daily Planners before, and don’t like being on the clock.  But that doesn’t mean we can’t all benefit from some prioritization and organization!  I have this lovely bulletin board in the kitchen, really just a big piece of cardboard that I covered with blue calico, that for years has functioned as the handiest place to tack up Rhiannon’s never ending flow of drawings and paintings of faeries, cats wearing elaborate outfits, other assorted plants and animals. It was so delightful, that completely forgot the reason why Wolf had suggested the space in the first place – which was to remind myself to do all those things that get so easily put aside! So this past week I finally relocated all the many drawings, cut up a bunch of construction paper and made some very pretty lists large enough for me to read from the middle of the kitchen, with lots of hearts and flowers and suns and butterflies etc. in the margins.

There’s the “health stuff” list, with reminders to do my yoga, make infusions and take tinctures etc., the “everyday things to remember” list (turn the solar panel, keep buckets out of the sun, get water in before dark, etc), the “things to tend to” list (trails, sheds, mending, mail, plants, paper piles) the “kitchen things” list (make yogurt, sauerkraut, cookies for whoever, make food lists, plan meals, clean the coolers, etc)… all of which are things to consider doing every day.  Then there’s the lists that change pretty constantly such as the meals I want to make soon, things in the pantry that need to be used up: the special things that need to happen immediately or very soon, and the list of not-so-urgent things I’d like to do, like clean out the kitchen cabinets! Then there’s the list of “fun stuff” like reminders to read my cookbooks and Wolf’s novel, to work on editing my own cookbook The Enchanted Pantry, to paint pictures and go for walks. You might not think we would need to write down what we enjoy, but you would find it helps to have the reminders not to skip or overlook any of the activities and pleasures that nourish us!

I guess it’s very much in keeping with the idea of setting intent, and how powerful an affect that can have.  Rhiannon was so excited about the new bulletin board arrangement that she put up her own lists of things to do.  She even made another bulletin board for her pretend friends, which she put up in her tree house. It includes a menu of things that Tabitha Twitchett will make for her kittens, and reminders for her to feed all of them, mend their clothes and so forth.

It’s only been a week, but already it’s helped me maximize & organize my days better, getting around to tasks and rewards I might never otherwise have made the time for.

Love, Loba

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Now that our little Rhiannon’s getting older, she is able to be lots of help. Like all kids, she’d like to only do what she feels like, and she is totally honest about that, but she also knows the importance of helping take care of things that are so essential and integral to our lives, whether clearing ditches for the coming storm run-off, or helping with the dishes that we need to cook and serve our lovely meals.  Something we’re always working on is balancing work and play time– schoolwork balanced by time alone at the river, washing dishes but also swinging on her swing, gathering kindling but also riding the bike Wolf ordered and painted special for her (with an otter on the chain guard!).

Our current fun project is decorating a special fantasy wedding dress, in keeping with her interest in staging a marriage with a classy cat named Baron from the animated Miyazaki films… (by the way, we totally recommend most of his work, which combines elements of empowered girls and women, positive messages regarding nature and the effects of civilization, and the triumph of will… especially Howl’s Moving Castle and Princess Mononoke).  Rhiannon’s lovely dress already features beaded ribbons, lacey sleeves, beads and more!  She is so tickled to get to do some of the sewing, that she gladly completes her other less enjoyable chores!

I try to apply this means of balance and reward to myself as well, putting a few nonessential activities on my daily list of things to do, or just recognizing opportunities to soak in the beauty of the moment.  Sometimes this may just mean slowing down what I’m doing enough to take in the magnificent view through the salvaged farm windows of our kitchen, as I scrub the pans.  Or to sit by the cookstove fire as it’s getting going and offer a prayer of thanks.  It’s truly amazing, discovering in everything I do an opportunity to connect deeper to myself, my purpose and home.

What do you do, where you live, to feel connected and nourished in the midst of a busy day?

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