slickiris - Tumblr blog

[slickiris]

A Love Letter to the Dad I Never Had

A Love Letter to the Dad I Never Had

Shout out to all the dads, stepdads, uncles, special friends, and men who choose to love and support a young child, whether they be his bloodline or not. You are needed. You are doing something that matters. Fathering is complicated AF for me. I’ve had many dads and no dad. I’m thankful for all the dads that have been in my life, and to this day feel the lack of true fathering deeply. Mom and…

[slickiris]

Bread is Life

Today is Lughnasdah, the ancient Celtic celebration honoring the first harvest. Today my loaves and bagels came out beautiful, despite my worries about my dough yesterday. For this harvest and the “dough” it will bring me, I give thanks. 

Today’s bagels and bread.

I’ve been participating in the process of wheat harvest and bread making my entire existence. Picking the rocks from the fields,…

[slickiris]

Offering bread and bagels to local friends Hi friends! thanks so much for reading this. I'm writing to announce that, after many requests from friends, neighbors and colleagues I have decided to start selling my bread locally to friends.

[slickiris]

  This slideshow requires JavaScript.

I have lived next to this grove of redwoods for the past 7.5 years. It’s one of those parts of the neighborhood that is in the background, always there and sometimes enters the conversation. “I live in Seabright, near the NHS headquarters. On so-and-so street.” “Oh, do you live on that street with the redwood grove?” “Yes! Isn’t that a lovely spot? A fairy ring right in Santa Cruz.”

I have no idea how long these trees have been here, but they have the potential of living longer than this city, indeed, longer than this nation. They are sentient beings who feel and communicate in ways we can’t even understand. They are remarkable in their robustness, able to withstand both heat and fog and in their majestic thrust to the sky, they house many other beings that I encounter daily in my life in this neighborhood. These great trees also bring us oxygen while recycling our CO2, they are an integral part of the health of this city.

I woke this morning with a broken heart upon learning that 5 of the trees in this grove would be cut down this week. Today they are removing the branches. These great life forms will live, broken and seeping and injured for the next week or so, until the crane can come in and remove the rest of their giant trunks. My heart aches, knowing that this happened because a foundation of a house or two, which most likely won’t stand more than a hundred years, is the cause of these beautiful beings having to die.

All life is sacred. I am no more important or less important than that tree, in some ways, in the natural order of things, that tree’s impact on this planet will be greater than mine. And yet, for humans, our lives feel so consequential that we can value the cement under a decades-old house over the life of a centuries-old being.

So now, through my process of mourning, I am turning toward transitioning to gratitude for all that these trees have brought for all the years they’ve been here. And all the years my family has lived under them. I am imagining what they will become and knowing that the life force that was in them will be released and just like my mom, will be free in the non-physical.

Dylan and I said goodbye and rode our bike throughout the neighborhood for one last glimpse of the canopy, to see how far away we could see them from. We saw them from Verve, Day’s Market, the Seabright Brewery, From Cayuga Street and Wyndham street and Seabright Avenue, and yes, the beautiful head-on view of them as we rode down Clinton. Our environment here in Seabright will never be the same, I wonder how many neighbors on other streets even knew that their ecosystem, their daily view, would be so altered?

I hope the houses stand for a long time.

I hope someone builds beautiful beauty out of the wood from these trees.

I hope the black squirrels that live in the trees, the hummingbirds that feed in them, the crows that perch in the highest branches all find a good home today.

I hope that humans can learn to live in harmony with Nature. She is our home, no matter how many buildings we build, we will always be beasts of the forests in our wild core.

I have lived next to this grove of redwoods for the past 7.5 years. It’s one of those parts of the neighborhood that is in the background, always there and sometimes enters the conversation.

[slickiris]

Finding Joy in the Small Moments

Finding Joy in the Small Moments

Joy is in the rose gold glow of the clouds at sunrise. They whisper at first, then break into crescendos of colorful song as the sun’s rays playfully tickle their particles.

Joy is in the sea lapping at the shore. The ever-changing line where the waves meet Earth, joy flowing back and forth in the dance between the two.

Joy is in the bird, soaring on the wind. Feeling their body buoyant and…

[slickiris]

It’s impossible to accurately count the impact of women on my life. Yet I can look around me every moment of the day and see the influences of great women who have stood for big things, little things and so often made my world better through a small gesture such as an encouraging word, a knowing smile or a warm and welcoming hug.

I turn to women at every fork in my path, for guidance, companionship and for the reminder that I am not alone in my continued quest to be a good mother, friend, business owner, citizen, daughter, sister, volunteer, earth dweller, spiritual being and human. I am reminded of how to navigate the twists and turns, the moments of pure joy and the moments of panic, by watching the women in my life. One woman emulates the kind of entrepreneur I strive to be, another shows me what it means to be truly kind towards all. Women show me, by example, how to lead and how to follow their lead. They guide me through the surrender to being completely human and how to own my mistakes and how to forgive myself for my imperfections. Modeling unconditional love, joy, determination and an unstoppable will to proceed forward, no matter how many hurdles are in their path, the women of this world inspire me daily and fill me with gratitude.

On international women’s day I honor the two women who have shaped my life the most.

My mother.

My mom, who in 1971 decided to have and raise a child on her own, though she had no partner, no financial means and no support from family. She brought me into a world of intentional community and gave me the gift of understanding that I was a child of the village and that it takes a village to raise a child.

Though our relationship was fraught with struggle, as many mom daughter duos are, I have always recognized her for the amazing woman she is. She was a homesteader- rising early to milk the cow and feed the chickens, chopping wood to build a fire to bake bread and make yoghurt. Washing diapers by hand on a washboard in the front yard, sewing clothing and beading beautiful creations, stitching leathers slippers for my tiny feet and knitting mittens to keep my little paws warm through the harsh winters. Growing and harvesting and then canning, drying and freezing the food we ate, she made the best pickles I’ve ever had, to this day. While I suffered through treats made with honey and carob, homemade “pizza” with homemade refried beans as the topping and endless pots of brown rice, I learned the value of nutrition and making sure I was well fed, a tradition I carried into my own parenting.

As a global citizen, my mother taught me to take my place amongst the diverse people of the world.

She modeled citizenry like no one else in my world. A Democratic Party leader in her community, a community founder, a board member of All. The. Boards. she campaigned, cooked, phone banked, work partied and volunteered for nearly all the efforts my community built together.

She modeled entrepreneurship as a farmer and later as a non-profit business owner, turning her dream of making a difference into a reality, publishing, from my home, a newspaper and later a magazine which told the stories of the people and places no one else was reporting on. Covering the social justice beat in the 80’s was not a common job and yet my mother marched forward, despite all of the effects of extreme poverty and the marginalization of hippies in that time. She showed me that she could do the hard work of the less traveled road, and defy the naysayers and those who continuously “put in her place.”

Mom took on the responsibility of being a voice for those who were not represented, fiercely and gracefully defending people, forests, animals, mountains and watersheds. She stepped up, even in the face of bigotry and death threats. She defended, until death, our sacred earth home and taught me the power of grit, grace and empathy for all beings.

My mother taught me to be the kind of woman I am today. Thank you, Mom.

My best friend of nearly 30 years, Orla.

Processed with VSCOcam with g3 preset

Orla has been my most shining example of the fact that we shape our own realities. Growing up in extreme poverty, running the streets of Dublin as a child and struggling through a cultural history of tragedy, Orla has risen to be a gentle and sweet example of grit. The only person to graduate from college in her family, she took her experience as a troubled youth in Ireland, and with a heart as big as the moon, uses her experiences and her intelligences to help guide struggling youth on their own journeys towards healing and self-actualization. As a teacher and mother, friend and sister Orla models true selflessness, empathy, compassion and is always there for the people in her life, no matter what’s going on in hers.

We met as teens, and with our shaved heads and crazy pasts, we formed a bond that would grow through the years. We’ve seen each other through boyfriends, weddings, childbirth, parenting, divorce, more boyfriends and career hurdles, and successes. Through all those times we have turned to each other for support and encouragement and held each other accountable to our goals and for our mistakes. Now, in the middle of our lives, we recognize the special bond we have and the hard work of remaining close friends we have dedicated our time and energy towards.

Orla is my lemonade girl. She taught me that we are the sum of our choices, that life is filled with joy when we look for it, that I don’t need to struggle all the time, that life is for the living. Orla has mirrored for me the accomplishments I have made and shown me my true value as a human. She’s my cheering squad, my wing girl and inspiration to be the best version of myself I can be. The most steady person in my life, Orla knows me in and out and has reminded me again and again of my value as a woman, mother, daughter, friend, and human. We walk this path together, as sisters, friends, and co-parents and have shown our children what it means to keep a relationship and friendship alive and thriving. Our children are better people for the examples we set.

Today, and every day, I honor all women of this world, past present and future. With humility and pride, I take my place amongst us as a leader and a follower while I acknowledge and celebrate all that women do every day.

The Power of Grit and Grace: What I’ve Learned From the Women in My Life It’s impossible to accurately count the impact of women on my life. Yet I can look around me every moment of the day and see the influences of great women who have stood for big things, little things and so often made my world better through a small gesture such as an encouraging word, a knowing smile or a warm and welcoming hug. 1,085 more words

[slickiris]

I'm voting for her.

I’m voting for her.

  So many people came and sang for mom in her last days, she delighted in the music and the melodies. This song was especially poignant for me as I have been listening to this voice my whole life, and the comfort it brings me is akin to a warm bowl of soup on a cold winter’s day.

My mom’s close friend (and my Auntie), Sandy wrote this song, inspired by a conversation with Mom about how The Work…

[slickiris]

We buried mom on Thursday

Thor’s Day, God of Thunder

Ruled by Jupiter and Sagittarius

Fitting for the Warrior she was

Dragon Lady

Defender of Earth

Her body, dressed in the splendid purple silk Autumn bought her years ago and

Unpolluted by fluids meant to preserve her flesh

Laid to rest in a simple pine casket

Handcrafted by a Colville man

Lined with a Pendleton blanket

A cedar filled pillow for her beautiful brain to rest on

Tucked into her time capsule were special stones

Her feather and staff and

The dragon box she cherished, filled with farewell notes of love and gratitude Her community gathered

Friends, allies and

Hearts filled with gratitude for her tireless optimism in the fight for Justice

They spoke of her journalism

Her quest for Truth

Her penchant for framing conversations in a way that can be heard by those in power

Her commitment to Community, also

Barter Fair committees, the Tonasket Co-op, the Tonasket Community Cultural Center, Annual international Mother’s Day March for Peace

The list goes on: co-founder, board member, advocate, volunteer, ally

They spoke of her commitment to our Earth and

How she inspired them to take up action, that

Each citizen of the planet can make an impact, that

Everyone shares responsibility to keep our home for the next generation

She was honored by the Similkameen People of Canada for her dedication in

Helping restore ceremonial rights on the River

For helping them understand how to fight the Okanogan PUD in the US in

Their corrupt bid to build a new damn and

Destroy the sacred salmon run

This honor is great, as

Mom deeply respected the Indigenous Peoples, and yet

The white environmental community has historically not

Aligned with the needs or ways of

Indigenous Peoples

She was honored in song by the Hyde Family and

Upon Mom’s request, everyone sang Amazing Grace

I was overwhelmed by, and also grounded in,

Community

The women, my Aunties

Those who had grown the food,

Made the birthdays and weddings and so many parties, and

Rituals of Life happen, they

Came together and made the wake, funeral, and meal afterward happen

The men, my Uncles, they

Carried the casket, set the site, made the prayers and

Many quoted her in saying

“It takes a village” and

All honored Mom

Builder of Community James did the rope science and tied the knots and

That way we didn’t need a machine so

We hoisted her into her Beloved Earth

By hand

Clutching the ropes tightly

Bracing our legs, we

Gently touched her down into that 10 foot hole

We shoveled the dirt

The huge mountain of dirt

So much dirt on top of Mom

Forcing myself to shovel and

Knowing it was only her husk, still

Fighting every moment to not yell

“Stop! She’s gonna suffocate in there!”

I continued to shovel with my brothers and my dad and sister and

As we slowly made our way home

I kept the panic at bay

No, we hadn’t forgotten Mom under all that dirt

That’s now her Forever Home Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust Friday morning dawned bleakly, what

Would I do with myself now that 7am wasn’t the time to get mom up and dressed?

I binge watched Netflix

“She’s Gotta Have it”

While drinking pots and pots of tea

At 4:30 am I worried most about Rick

Lover, Partner, Husband, Coparent, and Ally of 35 years

Inseparable from almost the first day they met, together he and Mom

Raised children, founded and published a magazine for 20-plus years, made bread, stopped a mine and saved a mountain and a watershed, grew food, sued the Army Corp of Engineers and won, canned pickles, taught on the Colville Reservation, cared for and nursed many loved ones through death, volunteered in the community and

Loved each other passionately

Now, still young and healthy at 79

He mourns the love of his life

A love few are blessed enough to know

He is the strongest kind of man there is

The embodiment of feminism and

True Equality for All

A male who supports the females in his life

Not just with words, but actions and

Supported Mom in all ways, including

Nursing her during her six year battle against cancer and

Finally death

Always protecting her right to make her own choices Mom’s love of and study of geology went far beyond

Simply learning how to read an Environmental Impact Statement

Everywhere we traveled by car Mom would explain and

Recite the geological formations and processes of the local landscape

She was enamored with stones and

Collected a few thousand pounds of rocks

During her 34 years in Chesaw

Delighting in the geology everywhere she went, she

Surrounded herself with stones and

People gifted her with stones and

Her favorite stone, a granite erratic boulder

Uncovered during a backyard excavation project

She had placed upon the hill behind her house

Her Sitting Stone

She chose it for her Headstone Friday, after rising

All in a daze

We made plans to clean and decorate Mom’s grave

We collected some of her stones and

Headed back to the cemetery

In tears we raked and built a mound of the remaining dirt

Brainstorming how to make her gravesite

Insisting that it had to last a couple of hundred years I

Wanted Mom’s descendants to know who she was

When they came looking for their ancestor

Chris took the biggest of stones and began digging them in

Building a rock fortress around her edges We worked at it for four days

Collecting rocks from the house and yard

Loading the truck

We brought at least a thousand pounds of those rocks to the cemetery

Amongst the hazy fog of grief and shock we

Discussed and ideated

Hugged and cried

Drank booze and smoked ganja

All the while steadily, but without a clear plan, moving forward

I like plans

I need plans

Plans make me feel better

We couldn’t make real plans without the erratic in place

Late on the third day

We had just placed the stones the erratic would rest on when

We spied Leroy rolling down the road with

The erratic in the bucket of his tractor

Of all of the days he could have delivered it

Like a miracle it showed up just then Sometimes plans are less than Flow On the fourth day

Still without a plan

We collected and delivered the

Mother Lode of stones

James and I bickered

I cried

Still no plan

I just wanted to collaborate on a plan that

Incorporated everyone’s ideas, meanwhile

Rick began to place stones with his usual quiet gentleness

Randomly placing with Intention

He led us as

One by one the rest of us followed him

We picked up Mom’s beloved rocks

Stone by stone we

Placed the rocks mom had collected

Circling inward with each stone we

Built a Cairn

An ancient Irish burial mound

She was very happy with our work Covered in the rocks she loved

The rocks and Mom

Nestled between the mountains she loved and fought to protect

Now in their Forever Home The building of Mom’s cairn was centering and

The process we needed as a family to bring to a close

Our collective journey in Mom’s disease and

In the nine weeks we spent together helping her die

A beautiful, dignified death

Now the five of us are bonded in

Our shared experience

Our collective grieving

Our love of Mom

Uniting us from her side of the veil

Where we shall all pass one day, but

For now we live and carry on her work

All of us

In our own ways

Mom’s grave after the burial.

Friday we started making the grave pretty.

Mom lies in the the Chesaw Cemetary, a very small cemetary in a very wild place.

The first day, we focused on leaving it pretty, even though we didn’t know what our ultimate design would be.

OUr first collection of rocks seemed so big when we loaded it in the truck that first day.

Mom’s Forever Home is nestled between Buckhorn and Bonaparte mountains, with the Canadian Okanagan Highlands to the north.

James and Chris add ed a thick layer of beauty bark so that whatever we planted would grow well and to keep the weeds out.

No longer just a flat spot.

Mom loved her glasses of wine. So we made sure she had one for the journey.

James carefully raked the beauty bark, just as he did in Mom’s flower beds at home.

Day 1, we left the cemetary feeling good that Mom’s grave looked lovely.

Kerry unloads the rocks we collected on Day 2.

Chris dug those rocks in deep.

Our pile of rocks grew much bigger by the end of Day 2, but we still didn’t know when the erratic mom had chosen as a headstone would be delivered, nor where we’d place it, or what in the world we’d do with all of these rocks.

Day 3, going big.

We carried the biggest rocks to the cemetary on Day 3

Chris lays the rock we believe the erratic will rest on.

Moments after getting the resting rock and flanking stones in place, we spy Leroy coming down the road in his tractor, what timing! Time to clear the area.

Our pile of rocks on Day 3.

Feeling immense joy, relief, gratitude and wonder that the erratic shows up when we most need it.

Erratic in Leroyr’s tractor bucket.

Coming in!

So much excitement.

Dropping it in place.

And there it landed. perfectly.

The flanking rocks, the biggest on our property, which James had brought home for mom, fit the erratic’s position perfectly. Amazing.

Thanks you Leroy!

No that we had the erratic in place, things felt better.

We made it as pretty as we could for the night.

And of course, left some wine and flowers.

Like a huge pillow.

Day 4. Stone by stone, we built a cairn befitting a hippie environmentalist homesteader.

WE decorated the cairn with the petals of the flowers.

James is an excellent rock balancer.

The “womb” stone sits in the center, surround by mom’s most precious stones.

Family.

We cried, we laughed, we loved.

With Bonaparte in the distance. I said goodbye to mom before leaving on my long journey home the next morning.

  Stone by Stone: Burying an activist, community builder, wife and mother. We buried mom on Thursday Thor’s Day, God of Thunder Ruled by Jupiter and Sagittarius Fitting for the Warrior she was…

[slickiris]

Me too

Ok [deep breath], the first time I was 5. My parents had family friends over, their 12-year-old boy managed to get me away from everyone else. I haven’t been able to think about that family without hot shame flushing my face or disgust making me shake, ever since.

The second time I was 11, I was swimming when an adult family friend signaled me out of the water, I ran up to him all smiles before…

[slickiris]

When the Internet goes down in your Coworking space. #Coworking #dog #dogsofinstagram #dogsofeco #dogsofecosystm (at ECOsystm)

[slickiris]

When a workout makes you cry, and it's not because it's a tough one.

When a workout makes you cry, and it’s not because it’s a tough one.

Crossfit has a long standing tradition of creating workouts of the day, or WODs, in honor of service people who have fallen in the line of duty. Generally very tough, these workouts are referred to as Hero WODs. Typically the Hero WODs are performed on the day commemorating the event and include either weight or reps that correspond to a significant number to the fallen heroes. One of my favorite…

[slickiris]

It's a paw party at @ecosystmsf today. ❤️ #coworking #doglife

[slickiris]

Happy Halloween, Blessed Samhain!

Happy Halloween, Blessed Samhain!

Today is one of the oldest and holiest holidays in the Celtic tradition. Halloween, or Samhain (sah-ween), is the time when we honor the harvest, the end of summer. It is this time when the veils between the spirit world and the physical world are thinnest. We decorate our homes with symbols of the harvest, carve faces into pumpkins, inviting in their lively spirits;…

[slickiris]

When Work is Play and Play is Work

When Work is Play and Play is Work

Tonight my son found his little toy laptop in a basket of toys. He pulled it out and started typing “letters” to his daddy. After a few minutes, he prompted me to ask him to play with him. Me: Will you play with me? Son: I have to work. Me: (stifles a giggle and a sob at the same time) Ok, will you play with me when you’re done? Son: (types furiously for a minute and then closes laptop) Ok, now I…

[slickiris]

Porridge, Irish Breakfast tea and Irish drinking songs for breakfast.

[slickiris]

Liquor en el baño. (Taken with Instagram at La Sandia)

[slickiris]

The longest #Coworking table evar. (Taken with Instagram at La Sandia)