angelbirdflies

Easter is my favorite Holiday; not because of the bunnies (which are cute but not when they are rammed down your proverbial throat) or the Jesus theme (although I am a dedicated fan of the guy, I am not a fan of the subsequent religious insanity aimed devisively and single pointedly, at distorting anything he might have said). No I love Easter because everything in me feels suddenly new again, Persephone rises to rejoin her mother, Horus is born of Isis and his dead father Osiris, Jesus steps from the tomb- all in me. I arise and the promise of blossoms rise to the surface. My eyes fill again with hope. Recently it has become clear to me that there isn't a right way of living my life or a judgement I need to make along the way- This is just life and I can just jump in the stream- get wet or muddy, smell the flowers, eat the fruit and let the sticky sweetness drip down my throat and chest. It is good to be alive- all the pot holes and burns, all the vistas and wide horizons. I...

A funny thing happened to me on my way to school this weekend. I drove, rehearsing the various questions and answers most likely to occur on the exam. Immersed in my own world of worry, test anxiety and perfectionism, I crested the rise above Golden overlooking Boulder. My breath drew in, my heart leapt into my throat and then spread its wings and flew. With eyes hungrily devouring the horizon, my mind struggled to take in the beauty before me. Late for school, I drove on for a mile, dropping into the fog bank and emerging into a secret faerie world. The little girl tucked safely within the grown woman, begged for a chance to play. I glanced at the clock, I just didn't have TIME to stop and smell the proverbial roses, I needed to arrive at school on time. I had exams- EXAMS I cried out. Suddenly it occurred to me that exams and school and straight A's mattered little in comparison to this moment of sheer magic. I pulled over and chatted with a few cows. Feeling bett...

There once was a boy who really liked to eat. He ate and ate and ate and then he begged for more. When all the eating reached it's end, he simply smiled and began to throw the remnants on the floor. Mothers make far too much of being clean!

Walkin' man. I thought I was racing after him before, now my life has become a blur of activity all aimed at avoiding eminant disaster.

It is utterly mind boggling to watch these two at play, the constant stream of weapon like noises, bodies in a whirl of motion, pokemon-yelling and frolic until feelings get hurt and one retreats -the other pursues with condolences- all settled, the cycle begins again.

Bodhi's favorite words Cracker - said 'caaaaaack-er', with a sing-song cadence No - said with a trailing growl HI - said with a cheerful lilt which turns to a persistant yell when passerbys fail to be impressed. Mama - with an emphasis on the first ma Papa - with an emphasis on the last pa Cat - pronounced Caaaaaa with a hard 'c' and a deep growl Baba - grandpa Wow - said with a soft breathless sound, full of awe and wonder And muhuhuhuhuhuhuhu while sucking his binkie when unwelcome sleep is crowding in on afternoon fun.

Recently Bodhi has taken to announcing "NO" any time he does something he knows is probably not a good idea. He proceeds with abandon and once discovered he forms his lips into a perfect O and says "NO", then breaking into a breathtaking grin proceeds, undaunted, on his path of destruction.

We meandered our sleep weary selves over to the park today and had a marvelous time. Owen has become an expert swing slinger and can jump at the apex of a tremendous arc with mind boggling precision, most of the time. Occasionally, he estimates poorly and windmills limbs akimbo into a graceful gravel eating dive. Bodhi loves swinging at his side and no doubt, is equally willing to risk life and limb in a jump from the heavens, unfortunatly we, his parents, are not as friendly with the notion. All in all it was another great mini adventure.

The day dances with a noisy wind, Northern air gusts into Southern fantasies. Baby slumbers sweetly in downy embrace, Face upturned, enraptured. Rhythmic song of breath. I turn, smiling, toward the bustling horizon Arms outstretch in welcome. I ask myself, Is this walk in wonderland my life? I answer, Yes. To this I can only laugh So many hours spent in restless tension Hoping for a bright tomorrow. Ever blind to the brilliant sun of today.

I got my hair cut and colored a few days ago. I feel a bit sassy myself and I always feel a bit giddy when I get a hike in, this sensation is particularly compounded when my littlest boy is in my arms and my admiring man is nearby.

Bodhi and Shane enjoy a cuddle overlooking the Mountains near Marshall, CO. Shane got a Clooney haircut and is feeling dapper. Bodhi just feels dapper, well that and sassy, silly, butsy, lovable and cute beyond explanation.

I apologise to my minions of non-reading readers who may or may not be out there. I have been temporarily offline and unable to upload anything of pertinent value or impertinence for that matter. I write this brief quip by way of explanation in hopes of utter absolution. Amen As a bribe I include a poor resolution picture of a fabulous mural my students did in honor of Leo Lionni and Fall.

Frida, Ash Ketchum (pokemon trainer), Diego Rivera and lil' dragon.

Don't say that I will depart tomorrow -- even today I am still arriving. Look deeply: every second I am arriving to be a bud on a Spring branch, to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings, learning to sing in my new nest, to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower, to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone. I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry, to fear and to hope. The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death of all that is alive. I am the mayfly metamorphosing on the surface of the river. And I am the bird that swoops down to swallow the mayfly. I am the frog swimming happily in the clear water of a pond. And I am the grass-snake that silently feeds itself on the frog. I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones, my legs as thin as bamboo sticks. And I am the arms merchant, selling deadly weapons to Uganda. I am the twelve-year-old girl, refugee on a small boat, who throws herself into the ocean after being raped by a sea pirate. And I am the pirate, my heart not yet cap...

This was Shane's first trip to a pumpkin patch. He was so excited, like a child, he clapped his hands and kept looking at each pumpkin to determine which was the best, he finally decided on a large albino pumpkin with a promising shape. Owen selected a small round pumpkin, while I went for size and chose one I could hardly lift. The boys ate meat of every description, sold by the vendors and then went on a twirling ride that turned Shane a subtle shade of green. It was a fabulous time, made better by the company and the shifting, changing celebration of the Season.

Shane, Owen, Bodhi and I were fortunate enough to bask in the royal splendor of golden leaf on azure sky. Bodhi loved hiking, he particularly liked the constant parade of admirers on the trail. Leaves are dazzling the hillsides with a parade of color and a dance of twirling gold. It was a magical day.

I went to Owen's school today and while I was waiting outside his classroom I overheard a conversation going on in the kindergarten room. Glancing over, I saw a teacher sitting primly in a red plastic chair. Her tone severe, she lectured her young audience who attended to everything in the room except her voice. "Scissors are NOT used to cut crayons or playdo. They are ONLY for cutting paper. We cut paper to learn the skill of cutting. We study bears because they are interesting. Tommy, pay attention, Bears ARE interesting. Hands in your lap Susan. Eyes on me. Eyes on ME. Bears are interesting and you are learning important skills that will prepare you for the first grade. Excuse me, excuuuuse me. I am waiting. Kindergartners sit quietly and don't talk when I am talking." The lecture went on and on. I found myself imagining a flock of birds trapped in a cage, or monkeys carted off to an experimental lab, or something wild being stripped down and tamed. ...

Bodhi seems to unconsciously understand the power of a full throttle smile. Living his life at a full tilt, he reminds me of the beauty and joy contained in each breath. What a gift.

Minding our own business we were interrupted by a cacophony of music, which seemed to be issuing from a marching band on the front porch. We rushed outside to see a parade passing by our front door. HOW RANDOM IS THAT. It was the Lakewood Tiger Homecoming Parade and it wound its way through our neighborhood. Shane and Owen got all jazzed up, put on their orange and went out to the big game.