Butterflies and Rainbows

Caught these 2 butterflies hanging out on the Butterfly Bush in the back yard a few days ago. Then they started to fly around and 'dance' around me. I could hear the flutter of their wings I believe as they did.




And the double rainbow (actually there's a reverse rainbow just under the main one that you can't see but we did) that appeared over the house after the storm that came through a bit ago.

Trying to find the meaning of rainbows outside of the cookie-cutter christian one is like looking for a needle in a haystack. Would love to find some Pagan meanings but it's like impossible. But that's what makes seeking so much more fun.

Mabon Blessings

I want to wish you all a Very Blessed Mabon and Happy Autumn Equinox.

I love Autumn, it's my time of year. Maybe it has to do with that I was born in Autumn, 3 days before Halloween. Maybe it's the cool weather and a time when I get to wear my snuggly, cozy clothes.

It's also a time of thanksgiving, or so I have read. I have much to be thankful for. I am thankful for my daughters. I am thankful for my beloved. I am thankful that we all have a roof over our heads and food to eat. I am thankful for the friends I've made through blogging. I am thankful that you all 'listen' to my banter. I am thankful for the gentle nudging of my beloved and Antics and the encouragement from Nydia and Ana to get my Etsy shop off the ground. (still setting up things but the page is there). I am thankful to the Goddess for finding me and rescuing me and helping me find my way.

May the Goddess shine down her blessings upon all of you and yours.

Passion

Some where along the way, I've lost my passion. I think I've known this for quite some time now. I just haven't been able to or wanted to admit it. It's kinda got me down realizing it and admitting that I've lost my passion. And not just for one thing, but a lot of things. I think it really hit me that I'd lost it while watching "Master Chef" these last few weeks.

Watching that show, made me realize I'd lost my passion for cooking. I love(d) to cook. Most times I miss it. When my grandma was alive she would often praise my cooking. If something was too salty or not seasoned enough she'd tell me and I would know she was right as my own palette would confirm it. Or if I thought, it's missing something but cannot put my finger on it...she would offer suggestions and then we'd be 'that's it!...yes! it's missing xxxx or yyyy.' But when you get criticised needlessly over and over and over, when you know a dish is good and 'someone' comes along and tells you things that aren't even wrong with it....after a while, you just don't want to cook or even try anymore. But I do realize that I miss it...cooking my way...a lot.

Next up, my writing. I think it's more than just writer's block. I think it's more than my Muse has gone silent. Maybe, perhaps part of her silence is that I lost my passion. I've shared with VERY few people my meager attempts at writing something. I got critiqued on voice, on that I need to show not tell so much...which were welcomed and expected. I figured I could fix the 'show and tell' on revision...it was more important to get the ideas down than to worry if I was "telling" too much. But, some time after Grandma's death, I fell into this rut and slowly lost my passion to pick up a pen and write or continue writing the WiP. And having 'him' tell me what 'he' thought and still thinks I should be writing doesn't help much. Thankfully I had the wisdom to not share with 'him' my work.

Then there's my crafts. I've spent way more than I ever should have on getting supplies and such only to face discouragement from 'you know who'. I like to leave my work out when I'm doing it so that I can just pick up where I left off. Granted in the beginning the dining table may have posed a small problem, especially with my scrapbooking, but I'd just move my open album with my current work stacked on it to the coffee table temporarily. But it wasn't enough. 'He' always wanted me to put it all away everytime. Then there were the complaints about the cost of developing the film, later it was the cost of printing from digital. I couldn't win. 'He' discouraged my scrapbook business because in 'his' opinion it wasn't making enough money for 'his' liking. Eventually my clients stopped coming to my crops one by one. Some, long before we left the church where most of my clients came from. I think now, part of it was they just didn't want to be around 'him'.

I wanted to learn to sew. 'He' got me a sewing machine one Christmas. I was clueless how to use it. But I eventually muddle through making a couple of small things. Again...you just can put things away when you're in the middle of a project. But, with 'him' you have to. So if 'he' wasn't mad that I would leave the work out, 'he' was mad because I didn't have a vast array of homemade items done on it...like curtains and drapes for all the rooms. That was before the gripe about how much it would cost for material.

For reading...I used to love to read. I still do, but I don't as often anymore. I used to go through several books a week, now I'm lucky if I get through one a month.

Okay, maybe my passion was actually stolen from me, rather than lost. As I re-read the post, almost everything I was passionate about was lost at the hands, well words and actions of one person. Sadly, I allowed 'him' to have that sort of control. And now, I want it back. I want my passion back! For cooking, reading, gardening, crafting, writing, learning....I want my passion back!!!! And I want it now!

Remembering 9/11

Every year as this day approaches, I have a sense of sadness that comes over me. I still cannot bear to watch or listen to the replays of that fateful day. The memory of it is burned forever in my mind. I watched it unfold before my very eyes. With the thoughts of 'I was supposed to be at the Towers with the girls' racing through my mind.

Yes I was supposed to be down there that day. It was the last thing I had planned to do before I flew back to Atlanta with my Grandma and the girls. I figured I didn't know when I'd be back to New York since Grandma was moving to Georgia to live with me, so I would live the best trip for last. A walk around the Twin Towers, Trinity Church, and South Street Seaport.

But the Fates had other plans for me. The night before, my oldest suffered a severe nose bleed, one I thought would surely send us to the ER. Never had she had one so bad, nor has she had one like that ever since. It kept us up most of the night even though it had finally stopped after a half hour. But just the fear of it starting up again kept waking her up, which of course woke the rest of us up.

Morning dawn, sunny and beautiful. Grandma was getting ready to go to the beauty salon to have her hair done one last time by her beauticianist. She turned on the radio just a minute or two after 8:46 am...listening to the caster talk about what had just happened, I kept thing something sounds very, very wrong. We turned on the TV and the shock of what we saw was just unreal. And then the second plane comes into view flying straight for the 2nd Tower. I remember waving my hands at the TV as if to try and shew it away, telling it to move. The horror of watching that plane strike before my eyes, was like watching a bad movie.

Then watching the Towers fall one by one. The knowing that I was supposed to be there that day with my two girls. Memories that are forever etched in my mind. I could have walked to the corner of the block, and seen it 'live', but watching it on the TV was bad enough. The memory of the silence that washed over the city and my neighborhood was almost unbearable.

Where I was at my Grandma's apartment, was about 3 miles from Ground Zero. We could see the debris cloud hanging in the air, seemingly inching closer and closer. The silence of not hearing the airplanes flying into or taking off from LaGuardia was strange, and the sound of fighter jets and watching them fly over us and head towards Ground Zero as they patrolled the air space was something I never in my life thought I'd see.

I've often wondered since that day, why did she have that nose bleed? Why were we kept from going down there? What purpose do we each have that we were prevented from being there that day? I don't know if I'll ever get the answers to those questions. But I am grateful that we are still here.

I will Never Forget that fateful day.

Wishcast Wednesday-Begin

Another Wednesday, another Wishcast prompt from Jamie.

Once again, a perfectly timed prompt at that. When I first saw the prompt for today over on Facebook...my first thought that came to mind about the question "What do you wish to begin?" was...My Life.

Why that answer? Why not...my book? or my Etsy business? or cooking? or (fill in the blank)? The short answer I think is that if I'm not or can't live My Life, nothing else will fall into place.

For the last 20+ years, I've lived my life for everyone else, putting ME on the back burner. I lived for my mom, for "HIM", for my girls (this one I have no regrets on). But I never lived for me, for what I wanted, needed, dreamed. The girls aren't babies anymore, so I think I'm safe to let myself live a little.

But in order to start My Life, I need to learn to trust, to believe, to breathe, to dream, to be. Each one a difficult step in its own right, but together can appear overwhelming. But as Lao Tzu said, "The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step." I must be willing to take that step, then another and another and another...If I want to live, If I want to begin My Life.