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live it to give it is all about love and connection. Being authentic. Living our lives and sharing it with others. Life is messy and so is this blog. Somedays my organized coach self shows up. Other days it's my vulnerable author. There's a mom that lives inside me alongside a wife, friend, social justice activist, creative muse, ponderer extraordinaire, and multitude of others. I'll introduce you to people who inspire me and offer a peek into my world that very likely intersects with your world. In other words, I will share life in its full, glorious mess with you. I'm honored you're here and I hope you'll come back soon!!  Cheers! Kayce 

 

Friday
Oct312008

Opening the door to a new year…

There was a time not so long ago when I would have considered that thinking of the new year on October 31 would be rushing things just a bit. Through this crazy world of blogging, however, I am daily introduced to new people and new ways of thinking. I am grateful for the opportunity to learn of new celebrations and ways to think of “old” holidays from new (and ancient) perspectives.

One of the lovely introductions this year was to the Celtic New Year called Samhain. (I learned of this celebration in Crossing the Threshold: New Year, New Beginnings by Christine Paintner). One of the significant features of Samhain is the honoring of ancestors…particularly those who have gone before us into the spiritual realm upon leaving their earthly bodies.

Throughout this week, I have been thinking of those people and beings who have "gone before me." I had great visions of ways that I would like to honor them on this day. Alas my time and technical abilities (artistically speaking) are somewhat lacking and so my celebration has been simple…and possibly all the sweeter because of that simplicity.

Today I made the simple altar featured here. In it (from left to right) are photos of my mother and father, my mother’s family of origin (she is the blonde girl in the center), my husband’s mother who died the same year as my father and, last but not least, my beloved Curry. This afternoon after arranging the photos, I sat before them and played Sarah MacLachlan’s beautiful song, "I will remember you." It was a sweet time and I could feel the presence of each being—including my mother-in-law who I never had the privilege of meeting.

This evening just as the sun was setting, I lit the five candles—one for each photo. And so, as the trick or treaters have come and gone throughout the evening, my husband and I have sat here with our ancestors—feeling their presence and honoring them in our own way.

Throughout the week, my brother and sister were kind enough to share some memories with me of our family. As the youngest sibling by several years, I have often felt like some memories slipped away before I had the opportunity to know they even existed. Tonight I shared one of these vignettes with my husband. It was a new story for me and one I delight in about my mother’s father, Birt (he sits to my mother's left in the group photo.) Here is the story as told by my brother:

A story I remember about Grandpa (Birt M.) regards the reason he
dropped out of school at about 8th grade. (It might have been 6th grade.)

When he started first grade, he figured that he knew just about
everything there was to know. Each year he found there was more that he
didn't know. He decided the best course was to abandon school before he
found out that he didn't know anything at all.

I recall a story of his arrival in Bethany with not much but what he
could carry. He found a job as a carpenter, but had to borrow a saw for
his first day on the job. He earned enough to buy his own tools, and
built his livelihood from there. He did well. Maybe it's a good thing he
didn't keep going to school to find out how much he didn't know.


My grandfather went on to be quite the entrepeneur and land owner as well as from what I remember a pastor of sorts. Although he died when I was about 12 years old, his story reminded me of my own tag line here @ Diamonds: The more I learn the less I know. It is no small wonder how the blood of our ancestors runs through our veins.

Wishing you a happy new year and hoping you might share a few of your own memories here with me & mine ☺.

Friday
Oct312008

happy halloween




What Your Love of Candy Corn Says About You


You are a very strange character. Much stranger than people realize at first.

Like candy corn, the more people think about you - the weirder you seem.

While you are quite quirky, that's what is lovable about you.

You are bright, bold, and simply happy. What could be better?


Thursday
Oct302008

what's emerging?


Formal words continue to elude me. As I wrote yesterday, thoughts seem to be forming more in colors and images. Please join me at lucy creates!!! today to see what emerged this morning. I found great comfort & peace there. I hope you will, too.

Wednesday
Oct292008

what color is your world?

My mind seems to be operating in colors these days. The purple, golden and aquas of my quilt. The glorious changing colors of the trees—burgundy, rust, deep plum and brilliant yellow. The fluorescent green turf of soccer fields. The gray fog-filled sky before the sun breaks through to brilliant azure. And so, this morning my offering is this piece penned while on retreat at Camp Cross in early September.

Blue. I raise my eyes from the written page and I see blue. Water. Sky. Mountains, too. Dark. Light. Rippling. Still. Streaked with gentle white clouds & punctuated by fluffy balls of cotton.

Blue. Surrounded by sentries of green pines. The waves gently moving. In & out. Away & toward. The motion churns my stomach until we become one. Molecules of water—all. Why should we be separate?

Blue. My jacket is blue. My heart, too. The sadness stirring deep within. Inside the depths. It starts as a ripple. Surface smooth. Deep inside I have all I need. The fish deep within the dark pool. Safe inside the womb. Free from the raging hurricane above.

Blue
Water Sky
Mirror of God
Holding me Washing me
You

What color is your world?

Monday
Oct272008

quilt of life

What a glorious weekend! Full. Slow. Balanced. Sunny. Crisp. Fall weather. The colors of purple and gold with a little aqua bringing my new quilt together. Like pieces of life. Each piece essential. Each with its own personality. Some bold & brilliant saying, ‘play with me. laugh with me.’ Others muted and dark. Purple in every hue. Bits of black punctuating the surface. Gold—brilliant and shining like golden moments tucked into a day. Glorious moments of life. This weekend was filled with them.

Sitting in the sun while watching my daughter play soccer. The green turf gleaming in the bright light. Crisp autumn leaves blowing across the field. Date night with my husband. So wonderful to tuck my arm in his as we strolled through the brisk fall night. The train ride to Bellingham. Early morning quiet combined with excitement for the day ahead. A new adventure. A new friend.

The morning was cloaked in darkness. Me, cocooned inside the metal tube. A perfect seat—window on the water side. Slowly moving past the landmarks I know so well. It is odd to see them from this viewpoint. A tourist in my own land ☺. Moving along the shoreline, the herons stand like sentries at their posts. I try to capture the elusive birds with my camera—an impossible task as the train speeds by. Today, however, I still see them in flight and standing guard. They are indelibly marked in my memory. A golden patch of my day.

My thoughts turn again to the snapshots of my mind like pieces of the quilt. The dark spots that grab for attention and the golden moments that shine like new morning light. All of the other times seem to blend together—some standing out a little more than others. We need them all to make the full blanket—the quilt that covers our heart—that keeps us warm & protects us from harm. The thread that brings us comfort and binds us together to make us who we are. I feel blessed to have a Technicolor life—full of golden moments, blue skies and, yes, even dark patches to punctuate my existence.

So, I wonder: What colors punctuate your life these days? What is the thread that holds together the quilt of your life? Do tell, please.

photos taken 10.25.08 on the Amtrak to Bellingham (If you look closely, you can see one of the "elusive" herons in the top photo.)