branches up, roots down

The fruit hang heavy on the old plum tree in the back yard. Tomorrow morning I will pick a bucketful to share. I’ll be spending the weekend in Sonoma with friends, planning the restorative we are offering at fall equinox – A Fool’s Journey. Tomorrow is Lammas, a cross-quarter marker in the turning of the seasons that Witches and Pagans hold sacred. A year ago I was grieving an old friend’s death and feeling the harbingers of the increasing dark. This year Lammas finds me harvesting fruit, celebrating good work done, and tending the planting for a further harvest. Just this week, a project/revolution I envisioned well over a year ago was finally fully manifested. The Reclaiming web page now has in it’s resource section a huge list of blogs and webpages. Furthermore, there is even a widget we can add to our blogs that streams in new entries. Taking this juicy success, along with my plums, to the retreat this weekend is satisfying beyond words. I am hopeful I can susta...

As Bowie sung, "Let's Dance." Yes, across this green globe, let's dance. Thank you, Matt Harding and friends. You know that heaven is under your feet and it is here and here and here.

This past weekend I embarked on what hopefully will be the beginning of an annual tradition. I went on a staycation; staying close to home but experiencing it from a different angle. Traveling a few short miles across the Golden Gate, I took the first turnoff, and checked in at the newly restored Fort Baker , now called “Cavallo Point” . What better way to spend the fourth of July than at the transformed army base in my backyard? For three blissful days I inhabited a world where soldier housing and marching grounds have morphed into a restorative retreat center, complete with a healing center, spa, and basking pool. What was once a new military base in 1905 is now a new luxurious eco hotel in 2008. I spent the weekend living and envisioning a world in which military bases become obsolete and are converted into retreat and educational centers. I went on my staycation with my girlfriend and two other queer San Francisco couples. This, too, was part of the magic. Three yea...

It’s been an action packed solstice season. After spending that evening contentedly feasting and conversing with some of my magical family, I crossed the Bay Bridge to go back home. Right after Treasure Island , the traffic slowed down and soon after my car became engulfed in noxious fumes. Several motorists started yelling “Lady, your car is on fire!” The moon was bright and full above the bridge, and the night was unusually warm. Everything was beautiful, except of course that my car was smoking to high heavens in the middle of a traffic jam. We all survived, the car included, but it was hard on both the nerves and the bank account. What I remember most vividly that night, besides the smell of my burning car, is just how exquisitely breathtaking the moon was above the city and how the bay was sparkling with light. I was going to write so much more, but I think I’ll stop with what happened that night, because, really, what more needs to be said? Pretty much everything that ha...