Red...Coming Soon!

Wacom tablet illustration


Got something up my sleeve
That I'm so giddy-excited about
I've been working on it for the past few days
And it will be out very, very soon!

This is all that I can say.
For now.
Hang in there.

*heeheehee*

Spiritual Activism

I Love You, Tree; Photo by Marjorie Mella; Canon Rebel 300D

"So often activism is based on what we are against, what we don't like,
what we don't want. And yet we manifest what we focus on. And so we are
manifesting yet ever more of what we don't want, what we don't like,
what we want to change.

"So for me, activism is about a spiritual practice as a way of life.
And I realized I didn't climb the tree because I was angry at the
corporations and the government; I climbed the tree because when I fell
in love with the redwoods, I fell in love with the world. So it is my
feeling of 'connection' that drives me, instead of my anger and
feelings of being disconnected."

—Julia Butterfly Hill

Rob Brezny rocks! Thanks for sharing this message with us today.

Sweets from my Sweets

Autumn Leaves Collage on Canon Scanner



The other day, I received a really sweet e-mail from my sister, Leslie. She said she admired how, in spite of the busy, busy life I have, I still had time to write meaningful stuff. I am humbled by the 'meaningful' and absolutely agree with the 'busy'. And if there's any meaningful*ness to draw from the words I write, I have realized that it's really what I needed to hear in the first place. If anyone else finds use for my words, that would be the sweet icing on the cake. Leslie can make really good cakes and pies, too, by the way. I so miss our all-favorite, the famous Mango Cream Pie a la Les.

But I digress.

You and I know that taking care of kids is NOT a piece of cake. In fact, it's downright difficult (read:shaitty) With help or without, kids are a challenge to raise. There are days when I'm on top of the world, feeling like the perfect mom to the perfect kids. Funny thing this feelings business because just as soon as you think these I-am-super-mom thoughts, everything goes down the toilet. Today was one of those not-so-perfect days where I was feeling more like a perfect failure. I almost believed it, too. Until one child, barely five, says something so sweet, so simple yet so profound (darn it, yes I am a biased mom!) that I am left with jaw hanging, in total awe and wonder.

Me: Don't forget to say your goodnight prayers, Sol.
Sol: (sleepily) Mom, you do it pleeease...
Me: Honey, it's your thank you prayer so you say it...
Sol: Awww, oh-kay...Dear God, thank you for my wonderful day. (the standard intro bought from Mom & Pop's of good manners and right conduct) Thank you for giving Mommy time to rest today. And dear God, please help Mommy get lots of help so she won't be so tired and grumpy.
Me:(happy tears forming) Oh, thanks my love! That's so sweet. But, uh, you might want to have prayers for yourself, too, ya?
Sol: Nope. I just want to pray for you tonight. Goodnight, Mom. I love you.
Me: (happy tears all over again.)

This is why I write.

I write because I am grateful. I write because I am angry. I write to vent. I write to understand. I write to put it out there so I can create the illusion of having a better handle on the situation and as if by magic, I do end up having a better handle on the situation. In the end, I simply write to write because if I don't I find it hard to breathe.

Writing is a respite. It is the shelter from the ever-changing weather of emotions that are as intense as the freakiest roller-coaster ride you've ever been on. I cherish reaching up, reaching down while screaming wildly, inwardly onto the paper from the depths of my being. I relish the salty waves that crash in and around me leaving me reeling and breathless. I marvel at how I am able to feel so much and how many colors there are to observe, to paint, to share. Best of all, I am fascinated by how I imagine I am the only one on this crazy boat and discover again and again (from others' writings) that I am on a great big ship filled with other passengers going crazy along with me. Isn't it what we all ultimately long for, the connection with and understanding of others?

What is the purpose of all this crazy-making activity? Is there a purpose to it at all? If so, will I find it in this lifetime? If and when I do, what will I do with it?

So many questions in here, so many answers out there...or is it the other way around? Are the questions out there and the answers in here?

Ah, I write and then write some more. And hope, in the noisy silence of my heart, the Divine Universe comes through with the answers I need for the moment's prayer. This, for me, makes writing the best form of prayer.

Oh, and yes, I write to remember that I can have my cake and eat it, too.

Thank you, sweet Leslie, for your delicious words. I love you. And your cakes and pies, too.

Pahingiiiiiii! :-)





For me, writing is the creative expression that allows me to touch and co-create the meaning and beauty I ache for. I know this because when I am writing I never feel I should be doing anything else, be anywhere else or be other than I am. And this is joy. Although I am usually alone when I am writing, I never feel lonely; writing connects me to both my essential inner self and the world around me. Loneliness is a loss of connection with the self that knows its belonging. It can be felt when we are with others. It can be banished when we deeply engage in creative work that feeds us. ~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It's all about choices

Lovin It! Me at Boyd Photo By Marjorie Mella Canon Rebel 300D

I found these words today.
Are they random?
Or are they right on?
It's a choice I have to make, right?

Guess which one I'm picking?

I dedicate this one to my Tribe.
Here and in the ether.
You know who you are.
And you know I Love You.

Always, In gratitude,
Kathreen



You're beautiful enough.
You're special enough.
You're sexy, playful, and fun enough.
You've worked enough.
You've cried enough.
You've been grateful, generous, and kind enough.
OK, then? So what are you waiting for?
Give it to yourself!
Your faithful scorekeeper,
The Universe

You see, I'm not the one who needs convincing. Nor am I the one who's holding it back.

Courtesy of TUT which could very well be words from The Universe indeed.

If I choose it.

Season's Change

Autumn's Red Glory, Boyd Park

It may come with the season's change

The falling of the leaves
May just be bringing about
The peeling away of layers

I feel the need to strip

To peel off the unwanted parts
The useless bits and pieces of me
That I no longer have any use for

I feel the need to strip

To expose the glorious parts of me
That have remained cloaked in shame for too long
Do I have what it takes to have the Light shine on Me?

I feel the need to strip

It's been a long time coming
The message loud and clear
The voice of Instinct must be heeded
Lest one endures more of the shadow pain

"You are only as sick as your secrets."
A wise woman shared with me today
Her courage, faith and vulnerability prevail
I can only hope to have my time come

Soon

It may just come

With the season's change

I Heart MMB

Succulently dedicated to the creative souls on
Planet Sark.

You inspire me!

Yup, you and You and YOU!

I love my new
toy!!!

***teeheehee***

((((((((((SQUISHUGS))))))))))

"mamakat"

Sound Bytes

Kat's Eyes, Photo courtesy of John Ilao Photography

I felt ambushed.

The original intent was to simply attend a gathering
Have an update or two
On the latest coming and goings
In the local community
Reconnect with old friends
Eat some, drink some
Laugh a little
Laugh a lot

"Are you going to sing?"
A friend of mine asked the day before
"Nope. I just want to enjoy the evening, you know...
relaaaax for a change."

It was always pressure for me
This whole performing bit
The singing part isn't hard
It's the what-to-say parts
It's the what-to-wear parts
It's the say-hello-to-everybody-or-else parts that just *!$@ the #$!x! out of me

So the simple answer was "No, thank you."

But, see, what I always forget is this:
It's expected of me - I am a singer after all
Therefore it will somehow be asked
My original song is a huge hit again after ten years of being recorded (thanks to Gary and Aiza revivals)
So it's only natural that people would like to hear it again

I realize that I have all the right to say no
No matter how much or how little they ask, plead, coax, cajole, beg
It is still up to me

It's the expectations that kill me
More appropriately, it's the dis*ease to please that kills me

What is expected of me anyway?
To sing. To entertain. To be pleasing.
Please. Sing.
Okay.
Be pleasing?
What the heck is that?

Hmmmm....

It came to me the next day.
While washing dishes.
Had I known that doing dishes
Could bring revelations akin to those
Achieved during zen meditation
I would have embraced the chore
Much, much earlier

Here's my big lightbulb moment

(insert drumroll sound byte here)

The big gap lies deep within the core of my being
Deep down inside singing IS a joy
The reason I am uncomfortable about the whole thing
Is because I am trying so hard to control the whole thing

To sing or not to sing?
To be or not to be pleasing?
Who to please?

Ego: Everybody.
Me: Impossible.
Ego: But I want, NEED, to or else I don't want to do it.
Me: So don't do it.
Ego:You know you need to be perfect to do it, right?
Me: Perfect...but I've given up on that utterly senseless task already...
Ego: (teasingly) Oh, have you really...
Me: (pulling hairs out) AAAAAARGHHHHHHH!!!!

(insert blooper sound byte here)

I know. I know. Old story.
I know, too, that it is a Divine gift
This voice, this musicality, my ability to sing like I breathe
It is not mine to keep and be stingy about
Therefore, my job is to simply turn "me" off
And turn the "gift" on whenever the opportunity to share comes along

Ah, self-promotion
Ah, hungry, insatiable, evil monster that lives inside of us

Didn't you say you were ready to turn over your gifts
To a higher power to be used for a higher good?

(insert heavenly chorus sound byte here)

There's your disconnect.

It's no wonder it felt like an ambush.
My mind and my heart were at odds with each other
My mind was orbiting too far in the outer regions called Ego-land
As for my soul,
Ahh, yes.

The Soul knows what's pleasing.
Always.
All ways.
Soul ways.

Good old Le Divine Conscience gives me a swift kick in the butt and saves the day.

(insert thunderous applause sound byte here)

Here's my flash of insight:
Deep down inside where the ego can't find me
Is a Knowing
A knowledge of Sounds that truly matter
I know nobody can touch this sacred space
I know it was given to me for a purpose
Better and more powerful than just my ego's horn-tooting

I bow with respect and surrender
And say a prayer of gratitude for the remembrance

Now the real question:
Who was/IS doing all the ambushing in the first place?

(pa-rap-pap-pa-rap-pap....pap!)

NaNo What?

WRITING.

It's a scary process. Daunting. Overwhelming. No matter how many times I've done it, it always scares me still.

Jumping into the unknown is always that way. But I choose to do it yet again.

The unknown I am talking about here is the NaNoWriMos. NaNoWriMo is an intensive thirty-day writing program that's all the rage with the writer-wannabes on the worldwideweb. Yup, who doesn't want to be a novelist nowadays, right? The basic premise of the acitivity is that to successfully write and actually complete a novel, one need not have a plot. In fact, one should not have a plot (in the beginning anyway) but instead one only needs to have a deadline in this case, thirty days.

Which is why I think the Nanos have been very successful for the past seven years. It's a crazy idea. But it works. People join in and try to pound out 50,000 words - which is approximately a 175-page novel - in one month. Yes, folks. Fifty Thousand. That's roughly twelve thousand five hundred a week or two to three thousand a day assuming you take one off day a week and which again, assuming my maths are on track. Which I doubt. But I digress. (teehee, I've always wanted to say that. Makes me feel like a novelist already. And so I'll say it again, I digress.

The most I tried writing on a regular basis for a whole month was 100words. A measely one hundred words a day and there were days when I thought I couldn't complete. It's not so much the number of words as it is the what words/ideas/stories to write about.

Which is why I am almost giddy with excitement. Plus the fact that I am not doing it alone...I have my amazing support group at PlanetSarkdoing it with me! And you know how you can always make that work to your advantage - or not. I may very well use that as yet another procrastination tool and end up lounging on the boards which is always way too much fun!

Again, it's a choice. And I choose and declare "Yes, I'm doing it! I am a Wrimo!"

Hello, Aurora! Looking forward to knowing you.

[Book Title: See, Aurora, See! by iKat on NaNoWrimo 2005]

Woman, You Are Beautiful

You are a true nature girl!


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