The Weight of Limitations

I'm a dancer. I'm a mother. I'm a type A overachiever. I'm a thirty-something pencil pushing desk jockey. I know who I am. Thanks to dance, I like who I am. I am strong. I am self-confident. I am comfortable in my skin.

I dance with some of the most beautiful, amazing, generous women I have ever known. They make me smile. They are there for me when I need to vent. And they, along with the dance, have helped me to accept who I am. I am not always strong, but my self-confidence is no longer a facade that I have to try to maintain.

And yet it only takes one comment (read overly modulated rant) for me to question my ability to dance. Does knowing ones own limitations and asking others to respect them make a less dedicated dancer?

I'll admit it. I don't practice every day in front of a mirror. My every waking hour is not consumed by this art form. It is my release. My downtime. My fun.

I know these women I dance with. I know which one can't keep time, which one has the most subtle cues. I know what move that one likes best and that this one hates this move above all others. I am aware of my sisters as we dance. I know when they are tired and their brains too fried for the new combo I want to try. I know with barely a glance what they need from me. And I know that if I want to do certain things I sometimes have to wait untill certain ones have taken a break. And I know when I need to take a break too.

I know my limitations. Does the knowing, and accepting, of these limitations make me a weaker dancer? Is it unfair to ask my sisters to acknowledge my limitations as I acknowledge theirs, so that we may be a more cohesive whole?

For me perfection comes not from the fanciest tricks, but from the ability to take six separate beings and watch them become one amazing unit. I don't think that can be achieved without give and take from everyone involved. To dance as a group is to set aside personal wants and individual grand-standing. We have strengths beyond our limitations.

Random Mussings and Bookclub Love

Where has the month gone? I can't believe February is almost over. I was good to myself this year and didn't make any resolutions that I would fail to keep and feel guilty about all year, but the lack of a goal has me floundering so I have decided that 2010 will be the year of the purge. I have become (read probably always was) something of a pack rat and it needs to stop. It's hard when stashing is a common practice among crafters, and add to that the feeling of guilt whenever you toss a school paper or childhood toy. But I am resolved! I will reclaim the house for a useful purpose as opposed to the storage warehouse it seems to have become. Goodwill here I come!

The end of the month is wrapping up quite nicely at least. Our book club, Broom Book and Needle, had it's second meeting on Sunday and I am so loving it! I don't know how many other clubs have four hour long meetings.... It helps, of course, that the members of said club are women (and one lone man) that I love dearly and that they were all humoring me when I first brought the idea to the table. The last two meetings were over The Mists of Avalon, and while I found it hard to stay interested in it for some reason, it was interesting to hear the thoughts of so many others. The next book is Margret Murray's The God of the Witches. I can't wait to hear what will be said.

The month is ending on a huge up note! We leave Friday for Milwaukee to participate in Tribal Union. I get to spend the weekend with some of my favorite people, pick-up new skills and perform with my girls. How much better does it get?

Ending with a Bang!

November was as quiet as October was busy but December made up for that!

We had Wyn's ninth birthday
an early full moon that Juniper led

a fantastic Yule party

and Twelfth Night with a blue moon at our place.

A Month Most Magikal

The last six weeks have been busy! Between work and dance I spent more time on the road than anything else. I have been subbing for Melanie at Kahraman as well as taking lead for unda. Having to teach has made me a much more focused dancer and I hope that I don't lose that now that I am back in the ranks so to speak.

October has always been one of my favorite months. The cold damp air, the fall colors the bounty from other people's gardens… seriously who doesn't love it? This year October was especially full. We started with a wiccaning for Bailey. This was the first group ritual that Juniper has been in charge of and it went well. She used a blessing that I had written for Wyn as a focus and I admit I was flattered.
Next came Samhain, Lisa hosted the party this year (and it was a smashing success) and I led the ritual. The plan was to write a new one but as I was preparing I found the one from '05 and remembered how much I had liked it. I expected the ritual to only be three or four people but instead we had eight. I am always nervous leading new people and I am glad I kept it simple. We used a pomegranate and an apple and then threw into the fire slips with what we wanted to be rid of in the coming year. It ended with cider and corn bread.

Juniper and I had planted broomcorn and used it to make a besom for our friend Elisabeth. She had just moved into her first place, and her birthday was this month, so we took her bread and salt to bless the house.

We spent All Soul's Day celebrating the full moon with our fledgling coven. The children all joined in as well, we howled at the moon, gave her an offering of milk and each of us received a blessing. It finished with cashew moon cookies and mulled cider.

I think it was by far the best ending to a year I've had yet. We still have to smash our pumpkin to find out how many months of good luck will be coming to us but all in all it was a beautiful month.

Catching up

It has been an interesting year. I can't believe it is mid-August already! July marked two pretty important anniversaries for me. I was officially divorced for a year, and I have spent one full year as GM at my hotel. Both things have proven to be more life altering than I had imagined. While I am still not the person I wish I was, the growth that I have had in the last twelve months has put me closer to where I would like to be.
Dancing with unda has given me more confidence and the support of my troupe keeps me going when things look bleak.
I just got home from nine fantastic days at Sacred Harvest Fest . I got very little sleep, danced a ton, drummed for the first time and had an all around stellar time. The people are always warm and friendly and you can't beat camping under such a magnificent stand of oaks.

Happy Christmas to all!

Knitter's Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas and all around me
There was unfinished knitting not under the tree,
The stockings weren't hung by the chimney with care
'Cause the heels and the toes had not a stitch there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
But I had not finished the caps for their heads.
Dad was asleep---he was no help at all.
And the sweater for him was 6" too small.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I put down my needles to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash.
Tripped over my yarn and fell down in my stash.
The tangle of yarn that lay deep as the snow
Reminded me how far I still had to go.

When out on the lawn I heard such a noise,
I was sure it would wake up both Dad and the boys.
And although I was tired--my brain a bit thick,
I knew in a moment that it must be St Nick.

Yet what I heard left me very perplex-ed
For nothing I heard was what I expect-ed.
"Move Rowan! Move Patons! Move Koigu and Clover!
Move Shelridge! Move Starmore! Move Spinrite!
Move over!

Lopi, don't circle around, just stand there in line.
Pay attention you sheep and you'll work out just fine!
I know this is hard as it's just your first year
But I'd hate to go back to 8 tiny reindeer."

I peered over the sill. What I saw was amazing:
Eight wooly sheep on my lawn all a-grazing!
And then in a twinkle, I heard at the door
Santa's big boots stomping on the porch floor.

I rose from my knees and got back on my feet.
As I turned around, St Nick I did meet.
He was dressed all in wool from his heat to his toe
And his clothes were hand knit from above to below.

A bright Fair Isle sweater he wore on his back.
And his toys were all stuffed in an Aran knit sack.
His hat was a wonder of bobbles and lace
A beautiful frame for his rosey red face.

The scarf on his neck could have stretched for a mile,
And the socks peeking over his boots were Argyle.
On the back of his mitts was an intricate cable.
And suddenly on one I spotted a small label:

"S.C." in duplicate on the cuff.
So I asked, "Hey, Nick, did YOU knit all this stuff?"
He proudly replied, "Ho, ho, ho, yes I did.
I learned how to knit when I was just a kid."

He was chubby and plump, a well dressed old man,
And I laughed to myself, for I'd thought up a plan.
I flashed him a grin and jumped up in the air,
And the next thing he knew, he was tied to a chair.

He spoke not a word, but looked down in his lap
Where I had laid my needles and yarn for a cap.
He began then to knit, first one cap then 2--
For the first time I thought I might really get through.

He put heels in the stockings and toes in some socks,
While I sat back drinking a scotch on the rocks.
Quickly like magic his needles they flew,
Good Grief! He was finished by two!

He sprang for his sleigh when I let him go free,
And over his shoulder he looked back at me.
I heard him explain as he sailed past the moon,
"Next year, start your knitting sometime around JUNE!"

Let it Snow....

Or really I would rather it not. It has started to come down hard here and it's not supposed to stop until tomorrow. I am leaving work early I don't want to be stranded for Wyn's birthday!