Woman Arising Conference – Part 2

~ Lindsay Wagner

Last Spring when I first got an e-mail about The Woman Arising conference in Sedona, Arizona, I wanted to go mostly to see Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes, but I signed up for the Saturday workshop as well. The name Lindsay Wagner rang a bell, but I didn’t really stop to think about it until we got to the workshop on Saturday morning. As soon as I saw her, I knew, the Bionic Woman from the 1970’s television program.

The Bionic Woman was one of the first idols if not archetype for the young American girls. Every woman older than forty in the crowd that I spoke with had similar reactions. Something along the lines of what could a television/movie star possibly know about inner soul work? How could she possibly understand our struggles as common people?

I believe she not only understands our struggles, she has lived her own struggles and has found her way through her own soul work. For me, that is the best kind of teacher, the one who has come through the trenches and come out the other end battered, but better and willing to share her journey.

Lindsay spent a very brief amount of time giving us her background on Saturday. She spent the bulk of our day together teaching us to meditate and to soulfully seek the answers to any questions that we brought with us to the workshop. She also gave us more information on her workshops, “Quiet the mind, Open the heart.” For more information about these see her web site, www.lindsaywagnerinternational.com.

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The Artist’s Way: A Conference with Spirit

Sedona, Arizona and the Spiritual Vortex ~

I love how the threads of my life emerge sometimes. Many of the things I love all came together last weekend in Sedona, Arizona. First of all, I love Sedona. I have been there multiple times, but there was something different this time. For the five days we were in Sedona, everyday felt light, airy, and everywhere was natural beauty.

The red and gold layers of the land seemed more concentrated and brighter. The green of the juniper tree was not flat and dusty, it was vibrant forest green. Every direction I looked there was peace and joy, and the pièce de résistance, a full moon and vortexes!

Now for those of you born after the Harmonic Convergence in August 1987, you may not know much about the mystical aspects of Sedona. I can’t claim to be an expert, but there are magical things happening around the vortexes. Nothing so magical as me looking twenty again, but a real sense of spirit is around the vortexes.

We went to the Airport Mesa Vortex first.  As soon as we got out of the car, I could feel a vibration like an energy earthquake. My partner Kim wanted to go one way, and I wanted to go another, no surprise here. The surprise was we went her way. She had done more reading than I had and she knew that the closer you got to the vortex you would begin to see the twisted juniper trees. There was no denying this and you didn’t have to make believe because the trees were there and they were twisted. The trees appeared to have been taken out of the ground, twisted like licorice and put safely back into the ground without disturbing the soil.

Vortexes are spiritual locations where the energy is right to facilitate prayer, mediation and healing. Vortex sites are believed to be locations having energy flow that exists on multiple dimensions. The energy of the vortexes interacts with a person’s inner self. It is not easily explained. Obviously it must be experienced.

Supernatural experts believe the vortexes in Sedona were created, not by wind or water, but by a spiraling spiritual energy. The vortexes of Sedona are Bell Rock, Airport Mesa, Oak Creek Canyon Overlook, Red Rock Crossing Saddle of Cathedral Rock , Boynton Canyon, Chapel of the Holy Cross Area, West Fork Trail and any local map will have them well marked .

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Musing on a Good Daddy

A Salute to a Good Daddy! ~

One thing I love about writing is how it brings my mind, heart, body and soul together in one place on the page. Today I started writing a post about being an education junkie, but I ended up on another favorite subject, my dad. Inside of me, I knew the anniversary date of his death was close, but until my emotional mind, soul and body remembered, my mind was busy doing other things.

My dad died October 4, 2004. It has been seven years now, and I still miss him. He was the reason I started writing creatively. He was such a wonderful person that I wanted to have his story written in book form for my two grandsons who were born after his death. Well, you know that old saying about, a funny thing happened on the way to the forum. For me, a funny thing happened on the way to writing a book about my dad.

When I started putting stories on paper, an angry little girl popped herself into my writing. My dad always knew her. He knew she was precocious, stubborn, afraid, and very loving. Daddy always thought I would be an attorney because I have always had a quick mind and unfortunately a quick mouth to go with it. He thought I was clever at word games and mind games. He wanted me to use my talents for good not evil.

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Stages of Writing

How Do I Get There From Here? ~

I have been working on the beginning of my book. I can’t seem to decide where to start. Memoir differs from an autobiography in that it is developed on a theme.

On the Download

Linda Joy, my mentor, says there are three stages of writing a book. The first is “Download.” It took me three years to download over fifty stories from my brain, and I know there are more. I thought over those three years I was writing a book, but I wasn’t I was just downloading my brain to look at what was stored there. Sure there are stories I can use, but what I had in mind when I wrote them initially is not necessarily where they will fall inside my book anymore if at all. It took me the download to look for my theme, that proverbial piece of thread that is going to be consistent through the weaving of my story.

The Muddy Middle

While looking for them I found myself trudging into the second stage, “Muddy Middle.” So far during my muddy middle stage, I have written a lot of unpublished pedantic rants; I have read a lot of books mostly memoirs and memoir writing; I have written morning pages that loosened up my writing creative muscle; I have seen a lot of movies; I have done a lot of research for my novel that takes place during The French Revolution; I have done a lot of soul searching into the ever darkening abyss; I have been looking for the theme of my book, but even more than that the theme of my life. I am looking for the threads that are going to tie all of these stories together. Whenever the story threads pop through then I will be into the third stage.

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The Golden Rule

Do Unto Thyself ~

When my grandson Josh was nine years old I asked him, “Do you know what the golden rule is?” He said, “Don’t run in the hallway at school?”

I laughed and told him, “No, have you ever heard someone say, ‘Do unto others, as you would have them do unto you’?” He hadn’t.

In my morning pages this week as the sleep was falling away from my eyes and the first cup of coffee sunk into my brain, I wondered what if I treated others as I treat myself?

That would mean when company came over I would hand them a half-eaten bag of potato chips, and have them eat it over the kitchen sink. I would not speak kindly to them. I would comment on how fat they have gotten, how they have a hairy Billy goat face, how lazy they are, or what poor writing they are putting out and to what end. Is that any way to run my life? Let’s hear a resounding, “NO!”

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The Artist’s Way: Focus

Focus Hocus-Pocus ~

Recently, I’ve been exploring the lives of artists of various disciplines including, of course, writing. And, I have focused not just on writing, but to the idea of being a writer.

My mind ping pongs back and forth like a pin ball in my brain. I’m never bored, always busy, not always productive, and sometimes avoidant. This has been proven by the many times I touted “my home was never cleaner nor more organized than when I was working on my Master’s degree.” Okay, I just broke focus to go eat a bowl of cereal. I want to be able to sit here, write and finish my book. What’s stopping me?

In my morning pages, the week before I went to California for my writer’s retreat, I wrote “Focus” on top of every page. When I arrived, almost the first words out of my mentor and friend, Linda Joy Myers were “I want to help you get focused.” Talk about synchronicity. Instantly Linda Joy was in sync with my writing need, thoughts and feelings. What a gift to be so well known and understood.

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The Artist’s Way: The Artist’s Date

Quality Time With My Inner Artist ~

The Artist's Way

For my Artist’s Date I went to the Doss Heritage and Culture Center right here in Weatherford, Texas. If you haven’t read The Artist’s Way, the “Artist’s Date” is a date with your inner artist. The Artist’s Date is designed to help artists like myself learn to open to insight, inspiration, and guidance.

The Doss is five years old and sits in a beautiful tree lined setting. The building looks like a Texas ranch house with a windmill out front. Western music played in the trees as I walked up the sidewalk, setting the mood for what I imagined would be a western museum. Boy, was I surprised! I’m not particularly a western girl, but I do enjoy my heritage and dance the Cotton-eyed Joe with the best of them.

Stepping into the lobby was wonderful. Not just because it was cooler than the 106º I left outside, but because of the receptionist Sherri. She was so helpful in more ways than I can express here. After I showed her my grandchildren’s pictures (Yes I did!) I went over to look at the stagecoach built by J.W. Brown, of Weatherford. I spent a little time looking at his history, and was very excited when Sherri told me that Mr. Brown had built the stagecoach used in a recent movie I had seen, Cowboys and Aliens, which was kind of a fun personal connection.

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The Artist’s Way: Morning Pages Week 1

What I’ve Learned So Far ~

The Artist's Way

Like the morning newspaper, my experience with the morning pages felt tedious at first. I started my morning pages three weeks before I started posting, so I’d get a sense of what writing these pages would teach me. First of all, I learned it’s very hard for me to write without any other purpose than to fill three pages, because time is precious. I have retired, so it’s not so much about time being money anymore. It’s just about time. I know there must be a lesson there.

Second, in keeping with number one, I had to start setting an alarm to get up thirty minutes earlier in order to get my pages written. This thirty minutes was required because, when I started writing the pages, I realized how many interruptions I have in a day. As I was writing, I would create distractions, like spending an hour on the phone with my daughter. Then, of course, I had to go to the bathroom, get another cup of coffee, answer the phone again … and before I knew it, it was time for Jeopardy! Then I just had to start a load of laundry. This made me aware of how much difficulty I have focusing. It’s not that these “other” things are unimportant. They are. So, I decided to address my lack of focus in my morning pages. Soon I was able to write three pages in thirty minutes without stopping. Yaaay me!

Third, one the benefits I’ve seen so far is that I have found myself thinking in pictures as well as words. On a related note, I’ve also been able to separate my voice from my mother’s voice, or as Cameron calls it, “the Censor.” I realized how much of my thinking was in her words, and my words ran in the background much like a television in another room. I’m getting better every day about knowing which is my voice and which is the Censor’s.

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The Artist’s Way

A Journey to Self ~

The Artist's Way

I apologize, at the top, for the length of this post. I tried to edit it into two or three separate posts, but couldn’t accomplish this without losing its sense of coherence. So, I hope you’ll stay with me until the end.

I started on a quest in October 2004. I didn’t know where the quest was taking me or, to be completely honest, that it was even a quest. Maybe it was taking me to where all true quests take people, but I couldn’t have known that at the time.

The inciting incident was the death of my daddy. Little did I know that in that last moment, that last breath, when he squeezed my hand and he passed over, that the breaking of my heart would be the cracking open of my heart. If my heart had broken I would not be here today. Maybe the crack allowed him into my heart. Many Native Americans believe that when a living being releases its last breath, it is the body releasing the soul of the being and those close by can take in the soul on their next inhale.

Whether or not this happened, I’m not certain. But, I know from that day forward I was different. I needed to tell my dad’s story. I wanted to tell my dad’s story for my unborn grandson. I could hardly bear the thought of one of my grandchildren not knowing my dad. He was extraordinary. He gave me an extraordinary life, not without pain, or hurt, mistake or flaw, but extraordinary. By virtue of this I wanted to give back. My mission, or so I thought, became telling his story.

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Life Partners

A Sweet Moment Remembered ~

Mom and Dad

My parents would have been married seventy-two years by now, had my dad lived just 7 years longer. We had the sixty-fifth and last celebration of their marriage on July 7, 2004. I went by to see my mom on their anniversary. As you might imagine, each one without Daddy leaves her, to say the least, melancholy. So, as we sat in her kitchen debating the quality of her ceiling fan, and Texas’ hottest, driest summer in history, I asked her, “Tell me about yours and Daddy’s wedding. I’ve heard lots of people talk about it, but never you.” She seemed surprised, and I was too as I said it.

She glanced up to the ceiling as if to peer into her brain for the memories of that day. “We all went to the courthouse first and got our marriage license, a whole gang of us, all of my brothers and sisters and their families. My momma came along but Daddy wasn’t going to come see ‘that’ because he was sure I would be back home in a week. My sister Louise made me the prettiest baby blue dress with pink appliques around the collar. In a family as large as ours, one of the older sisters was appointed to watch after the younger child. Louise always looked after me.”

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