Bee the Change

To make a pound of honey, bees have to gather nectar from about two million flowers.  This spring, I sold the wildflower sanctuary I planted over the past five years (and the house along with it).  Not long after the deed changed hands, the garden received a crew-cut from a lawn mower.  Still, the deep root stocks of the native perennials will send out new shoots next spring and many seeds lay dormant, awaiting the perfect conditions to bloom.

So many things have been changing in my life, I've put the blog on hold until I felt like I had somewhat of a grasp on the new story unfolding.  Our experience in Costa Rica was not what we had hoped or imagined and it put a huge strain on my kids.  We returned to finalize the house sale, got free of the mortgage but lost all equity and then - my van was totaled.  I had purchased a school bus, intending to convert it to WVO (waste vegetable oil) and an eco RV for my kids and I to tour in. 

In April, both my kids decided to try living with their dad for the first time and enrolled in public school (they've been homeschooling with me).  My son intends to continue living with his dad and attending a high school in Duluth.  My daughter will be living with my family and attending an elementary school with her cousin in Minneapolis.  After 14 years of raising children full time, on my own, I find myself feeling mowed to the ground.

Many of the particularly special plants and stones from my garden were moved to various friends and family plots, I often feel the stirrings of their energy in my soul.  Deep in my core, I am longing for a place to land, a place to put down new roots and grow food and flowers.  I dream of living a simple, sustainable life and am preparing to set off in search of a new place to bloom.  I hope to have the Renegade Spade album ready by October - the project has stalled several times due to a variety of challenges, mostly financial in nature.

Like those native perennials at 1435 Emery Street, my roots run deep and I'm holding on tightly to my intentions despite some major set backs.  I am reclaiming my health and wellbeing, while learning how to provide for and nurture my children in new ways.  It helps for me to imagine the metaphor of the mother bear who sends her cubs up into the trees where she knows they will be safe until the danger has passed.  I am so very grateful for the unconditional love and support of my parents, the trunk of our family tree!

These last few months, I have found myself questioning everything.  I've had several visits to the "pit of despair" looking for my spark and the joyful exuberance that is the trademark of Magic Mama.  Some folks have suggested I find a new stage name that is more suggestive of an all-ages act, something more "sophisticated" perhaps; I certainly am at a crossroads of reinvention.  Then again, "magic is the art of changing consciousness at will" and I'm all about shifting paradigms.  

An apocalypse (Greek for "lifting of the veil" or "revelation") is a disclosure of something hidden from the majority of mankind in an era dominated by falsehood and misconception i.e. the veil to be lifted. (Wikipedia)  By lifting the veil of our aculturated minds, we begin to see our true nature, our undomesticated DNA that remembers how to live in harmony with each other and the Earth.  By freeing ourselves from our inherited debts, we fund the ability to co-create a sustainable future.

I have let go of my house and the death pledge to the Banksters of America that came along with the deal.  I have let go of my unleaded fuel vehicle.  I have let go of credit card debt and health insurance.  I am letting go of my cell phone.  I have even let go of homeschooling my kids and the vision of creating a new home WITH them (this has been the most difficult leap for me).  I have been giving away all kinds of things I once "needed" and placed in storage during the transition of selling the house.  By letting go, I am also opening and my seeds have been scattered by the winds of change.

Rooftop bee boxes at the HeartBeat Collective in Boston, Mass.

I am open to finding a new home in a place where drinkable water comes up out of the Earth, a place where I can garden with a village of allies and build shelters by hand, make music for fun, dance around fires under the stars, make art just for the beauty of it.  I will be touring the country over the next year, looking for my new home; along the way, I will be sharing my art and music in ways that support people who are already living some of this dream.  I will be sharing their stories with you through my blog.  This is my way of fertilizing the metaphorical gardens of the new world, my way of pollinating the blossoms of a new paradigm where balance is being restored.

I will Bee the Change!

I am visiting two million flowers to make my pound of honey!