On the full moon in August, I rested. Mental rest, physical rest, spiritual rest—no rest comes naturally to me. Yet here it was. A lazy Saturday morning spent reading, drinking tea, and letting the day come to me. My daily meditation practice is finally starting to show itself.
On the 12th of August I celebrated my second wedding anniversary with my husband, D. D, our pup Kallisto, and I camped under the milky way in upstate New York on a farm. We spent time making connections with mischievous donkeys, some friendly hogs, a couple of Shetlands and farm cats, chickens, goats, peacocks, and some crazy looking turkeys. D speaks to animals in a way that I’ve never seen, always deepening our connections with the more-than-human world.
Our campsite overlooked a vast field filled with medicinal weeds. Goldenrod, blue vervain, milkweed, and bee balm all said hello on our evening walk as the sun set. A walk I took without a cane or a walking stick; something I’ve been striving towards for some time.
In the middle of the month D and I continued our celebrations and spent a day at Niagra Falls. The hue of the water reminded me of Seward, Alaska; cerulean, seafoam, rapid water white, these are the colors of the most beautiful waters. I didn’t use my cane once.
During the new moon in August, I hosted a Generative Walk and Write workshop at Thornberg Conservation. We walked together along the trails embracing the nature around us. Apple trees, mesquite, cattails, pine and other evergreens kept us company as we wrote about memory. We listened to Robin Wall-Kimmerer’s essay Goldenrod and Asters, the prologue of Entangled Life by Merlin Sheldrake, and Ross Gay’s poem, The Fig Tree on 9th and Christian. I have a feeling that this is just the beginning of a seasonal series.
At the end of August, I started my position as the Program Coordinator at Write Pittsburgh, the very same non-profit where I teach incarcerated individuals in recovery. While I haven’t exited homeless services yet, this is my first step towards freedom and damn does it feel good.
I received my very first paycheck from Subway when I was fifteen years old. I kept $100 for myself (beer and cigarette money) and gave the rest to two brothers that I knew (they bought me the beer and cigarettes) who lived on the streets due to their serious heroin addiction. Since then, I have served the houseless community in one way or another in ‘official’ and non-’official’ capacities.
I have worked for two separate non-profits who serve the unhoused folks in Multnomah County and can say with confidence that the system is broken, and I want nothing to do with it. While I will miss my participants and will continue serving my neighbors in grassroots efforts, I will not return to the non-profit industrial complex.
When quarantine hit the United States in 2020, I lived alone and was quarantined alone in a town I’d only lived in for a short while. I spent most of my time ripping up carpet, redoing floors, building rooms in the basement, and painting. Freshly clean and sober, (aside from medicine the Mother Earth gifts us), the house grew quieter and quieter. One day, it became too much. I ate a handful of mushrooms, mixed all of the various paints that I’d collected from construction work and labor jobs over the years, and began painting a mural. A mural I never finished. A mural that sat on the wall staring back at me for the last five years reminding me of the loneliness that overcame me.
The last week of August, D and I painted over it. Creating space, and home, together; finalizing a long, forgotten chapter.
The cherry on top was that I not only was able to paint, I also mudded and sanding our entire ceiling. I’m getting better. I’m healing, one day at a time. And damn, does it feel good.
On September 20th, I will be offering a creative writing class as we broach the Fall Equinox. In this offering you will experience mindfulness writing prompts while enjoying a carefully crafted medicinal tea that provokes the creative senses. This generative workshop is targeted towards writers but encourages all tea loving creators to attend.
Last but not least, I received my copies of Nourishing Our Bodies, Nourishing Our Movements Community Cookbook that was put together by Abortion Care Tennessee to fundraise for access to abortion for northern Tennesseans. My recipe, Unnerved Medicinal Tea was featured at the closing of this unique cookbook! To get your copy today, and donate to further abortion access, check out Abortion Care Tennessee.
Please consider donating to families who have been separated by ICE
Three (anonymous) siblings whose father was detained
And lastly, the ACLU who are fighting to keep these families together.
So much beauty and magic here my friend!