re:Orlando and the Current State of Things

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May our collective vision be
not obscured.

May our traumas and sufferings
heal us toward a different path.

May each voice be heard
at least one time
in singing.

May smiles light our faces.

May we stop fucking making trash and killing people.

C.Savage 6.12.16

Becoming A Mother

992952_10151676189375219_1653747330_nThree years ago, plus a week, I became a mother, and I continue to become a mother every day. It is not a switch that is flipped. For a long time before that I yearned for motherhood in a way that was beyond my understanding. Mother becomes a servant to life. My identity still reels against this. I frequently want to go my own way and realize I cannot, that there is no “my own way,” and really, the gift of this message is, there never was.

I love my son for himself, and for the hard lessons he teaches me, in nearly every hour of every day. We look almost EXACTLY the same, pictures from my childhood are practically identical to his. Even strangers comment on this. My stock response is, “Yea, I wind up chasing myself down a long hallway all day,” and we laugh, and my eyes get a little unfocused, because it IS funny, but it is also more true than someone outside of my life could begin to understand.

My midwife told me that each birth, with unique experiences each time, gives the mother things that she will need to raise that particular child. This (my only) birth showed me how NOT in control I am. Life gave me the gift of a Profound and Holy EGO FUCK. I actually received/hallucinated a “HA HA HAAAA” as Life Force barreled through me while I clung to the sides of a tub. There was no escape from the deep and painful knowledge that “I” am nothing but a vessel for Life. This birth dissolved many ideas I had about myself, and when I remember to remember, the message I got was not to waste time in doubt, of myself or the forces of nature, because if I could go through THAT, I could do anything. I tearfully, and with wonder, said goodbye to my self-critic. With my particular child, I simply don’t have time for that. I must light the way. I must make light to see my own reflection.

I continue to surf the confusion and not-knowing of living and mothering, I am fairly certain I always will, there is a lot to not-know. Though I frequently stumble, my greatest feat in life was being a participant in the birth of this child, this child, who, coming through me, gave me the gift of true respect for life, and for myself as a part of it. Thank you Theo, for allowing me to become your mother. Happy Mother’s Day. I love you dearly.

C. Savage 5.8.2016, Mother’s Day

Love Remembers. Lillie and Daniel’s Wedding Poem (April 6, 2014)

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(photo Nanny Glick)

love
loveliness
appreciation
dedication
celebration.

love as a path
in nature
in the brain.
love is
in our hearts
in our minds.
love is in the air.
love. is.

so.
why does love
continue to take us by surprise?
love—
that we know about,
(that we think we know about)
that is all around us,
(though we may not remember to remember)
suddenly
or bit by bit
love becomes new.

do flowers, fresh from bulb
remember they have before been bloom?
their eruption from dormancy
as much a shock to them
as it is to us—
coming through long winter
to be amazed by the spring.

love remembers.
love remembers us to ourselves.
love remembers us to ourselves.
respectively
and
collectively
love remembers us.
love remembers
lest we forget.

C. Savage 4-6-2014

Intimacy with Water

I ask the water to
hold me
I ask the water to
forgive me
I ask the water to
envelop me
I ask the water to
unfold me
I ask the water to
read me like a letter
I thank the water for letting me know myself
better.

I ask the water about
love.
I ask the water about giving life
life.
I ask the water to
hold me
I ask the water to
forgive me
I ask the water about
love.

C. Savage 9.15.15

Growing Sunflowers

Sunflowers can jut out many blossoms per stalk.
I am amazed.
Yellows grown to greet me at my doorstep.
I have eyes
my eyes grow
wide and
tear-filled and
joyful
I can grow my own tears
I have grown my own tears of
hopefulness and delight
and it was easy
I didn’t do anything but
pick a place
that would suit
ME.
Here, grow, here, you, grow here, for my pleasure, because I love myself.
I plant you I look at you with wonder I wait and watch the leaves grow broad, the
stalks grow thick enough
like a neck
to support a head, I watch
as buds begin to pucker out
furry—I didn’t realize
furrier than I would have thought
little hairs spine-ing, pokey, what are they for.
I take many pictures, capture the little spider-looking brown-purple hairy budlets
that slowly grow leaves of their own and keep going
developing into close-fisted structures, clenched against bloom
ugh, the waiting, they seem to say
the unfurling seems difficult, like wetted chicks pushing from egg, or
petal-pupae,
they look sticky, until they dry themselves,
butterfly-from-chrysalis
in the sun.
And now I see them,
every day,
they greet me as I cross
over my threshold
they smile down on me
these beings I have given place
to radiate
life.

7.15 xoc

sunflower.budSMALL

Can People Get Any Crazier?

I guess the answer to “can people get any crazier” is always YES. Westboro Baptist Church plans to send protesters to the funeral for the nine people murdered in the AME church shooting. #racist #terrorist These people know how to do their jobs of being totally despicable human beings and inciting anger and hatred. My own brain and heart, already boggled and aching over this terrible event, are now exploding and thumping with rage that ANY person would want to do this WBC protest “work.” Another example of systemic, racist hatred passed down through the mouthpieces of people with power, and people who use religious power to promote intolerance and violence. There is a group in Charleston created to form a PEACEFUL, SILENT HUMAN BARRIER around the funeral site if WBC protesters to show up.

http://www.counton2.com/story/29384735/human-wall-barrier-facebook-event-created-to-protect-funerals

May they someday (soon) see that their actions have been based in hate and may their hearts be ripped open with the grief of their inhumanity. May they lie down on the ground and beg for mercy and forgiveness and be heavily punished by nightmares of their actions. And through this suffering and regret may they, like all people, reject ideals of hatred and intolerance, learn, work together, promote and work for equality, and become peaceful.

Uncover and address explicit and systemic racism and hatred. Work for and towards equality. Promote peace and education.

 

In remembrance, here are the names of the victims:

The Rev. Clementa Pinckney (also a State Senator)

Cynthia Hurd

The Rev. Sharonda Coleman-Singleton

Tywanza Sanders

Ethel Lance

Susie Jackson

Depayne Middleton Doctor

The Rev. Daniel Simmons

Myra Thompson

For more information about the lives of these people, visit http://www.npr.org/sections/thetwo-way/2015/06/18/415539516/the-victims-9-were-slain-at-charlestons-emanuel-ame-church

Making the switch from Tumblr to WordPress…finally

Hello!

After a four year hiatus, I’m back to blogging! Many exciting and time-consuming things have happened in my life. I finished my Transpersonal Ecopsychology Master’s degree from Naropa in May of 2012, woo!
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And almost immediately after that I became pregnant and had my son, Theo, at home on April 30, 2013. Here is our 2015 HAPPY NEW YEAR card (see, it takes a long time to get anything done!)

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After settling in to the first phase of motherhood, I completed a holistic doula training course through La Matrona in 2014 and am interested in the process of birth and the unfolding (and recording) of birth stories.

MOST RECENTLY I have become interested in making my drawings digital and learning elements of design and illustration to be able to collaborate with Mr. Meow.

That is a lot. I’m sure I am forgetting things. Four years is a long time. Oh yeah, we moved twice and bought a house. That is a lot. We have a 150+ year old oak tree in the front and a big garden in the back, and a visiting flock of mockingbirds. “Visiting” is a hopeful statement.

I am feeling hesitant about using WordPress. Everyone (ok, Mr. Meow and the instructors from the design and technology symposium today) says it’s so easy to use. So far, every time I have looked at it in the last 18 months I have thought it feels clunky and the free themes leave much to be desired. However, easy or not, WordPress seems to get more traffic from Google searches, so I will bring my little big sphere of thoughts, poetry, and upcoming writing, art-making, and design projects on over here.

It feels good to be back.