Snapshot!

Yikes! I've been busy, full up, to the rim, nearly overflowing, juggling many plates and multi-experiencing many different activities and time management challenges since starting my new job.

It's all fairly good, but I do miss the daily checking in with my muse and this public journal - better known as blogging. Loosening my grip on this too, is another lesson in surrender. (More to come on that topic when I have some extra minutes to ponder before composition!)

And in the meantime, I thought y'all might like to see the end result of one of my many recent projects, the website: Village Birth and Herbals. 

Stella is quite extraordinary, and I believe you ought to check out her skills and talents. If you're from the Palmer, Alaska area - you're in luck because she is about to be located there for a very long time. If you're elsewhere, you're still in luck because her herbal wares are available by phone order (and soon via a webstore).
I hope you find her site interesting, educational, resourceful and appealing. Drop her a note and let her know you've been there.


Enjoy! ~ mlp

A Small Departure

I'm kickin' up my heels and traveling today, and it's important to get on the road early if I want to make that fantastic concert awaiting me at the other end of the highway;

...therefore, this morning you're being offered a couple of blog posts written by two fantastic bloggers whom I follow regularly. 

Clicking on their names will take you to pieces that are especially enjoyable written by Seth Godin and Chris Guillebeau. Should you decide to explore their work, I doubt you will regret it.
Stories and photos from this untamed life on purpose will come again soon!

Have a lovely Wednesday ~ mlp

Feeling First

The only time I have ever heard someone say “I don’t make you feel that, you choose to feel that way” has been when the speaker was defending themselves, or trying to let him or herself off the hook for words or behaviors that created an outcome that was uncomfortable for them. In other words, they used it as an excuse and a foil rather than accepting responsibility for their part in a situation that evoked emotion.

Human beings, especially those who are in touch with their feelings in a mature and healthy way, tend to respond to outside forces and situations with their emotions first, and their minds and intellectual reasoning step in soon thereafter. Those who, for a myriad of reasons, are very private or guarded in their reactions, can often adeptly go from step A (feelings) to step B (thoughts) in seconds. Note the distinction: “mature and healthy.” I don’t consider someone who flies into a rage or into hysterics at the drop of a pin to fit this description.

When my son was initially diagnosed with cancer, I supposed I could’ve “chosen to feel” something other than shock and grief, but in my human condition, I went directly to the place that any mother who loves her child would go. It was through time, necessity and giving myself opportunity to process some fairly raw emotions in safe and supported ways - that I stepped into the second phase of both the emotional and cognitive journey.  His process has been different, of course - influenced by age, life experience and his uncanny ability to stay in the now. I think that life threatening illness or loss are extreme examples here, because when we grieve it takes longer to go from initial reactions to consciously “choosing how to feel.”

On a day to day level; however, there are many instances. When your playful cat does something silly and you laugh at his antics, you don’t stop - make a carefully thought out choice - and then “feel joy.” You simply feel joy. Now. It’s a beautiful and spontaneous synergy. When you are listening to exquisite music and the sound and vibration of inspiration, tone, rhythm and harmonies evoke deep sadness and tears, you don’t pause - considered your emotional options - and then select “weep.” You just surrender. Now.

I could offer example upon example of situations and experiences where perfectly intelligent and sensible people DO NOT stop to hold a consult in their mind, rather they allow themselves to fully FEEL FIRST. And thank god that we can do such a thing. Thank god that we can trust the deep knowing of our hearts on occasion as it is with our hearts that we can often see and understand most clearly.

So here’s the deal: What we have DO HAVE A CHOICE IN -- is determining how - after we’ve felt the laughter, cried the tears, burned through the fury or known the heart ache  - how and who we will BE NEXT.

If you’ve been one of those folks who likes to say “Oh, you’re choosing to feel that way.” I would strongly urge you to stop saying this. Stop sidestepping the reality of the human spirit, for to feel is to know that you are alive! Stop placating your own fears by shutting out emotions, and stop disrespecting the heartfelt (not “mind” felt) spontaneous joys and sorrows experienced by others.

No matter how messy or weird or too real it may appear to the nay sayers, those who know the emotional landscape of their inner selves also know that if they allow their feelings to surface, they can then begin choosing what comes next in a nourishing way. For me these are the choices that matter so very much and may actually make me a better person. This writer’s now-open heart, despite my mind’s desperate attempts to make it choose occasionally less messy responses, has the first and last say.

Standing Fast

“I do not wish to treat friendships daintily, but with the roughest courage. When they are real, they are not glass threads or frost-work, but the solidest thing we know.”

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson 

It’s been one hell of a year.

Every single day when I awaken, I try to concentrate on the unexpected joys that surround radical change and practice counting the blessings that are so abundant in my life; however let’s face it, I’m a flawed human being. There are days I get mired in some of the sadness that change has imposed.

This morning in particular, I’m thinking about the unwritten guidebooks for surviving things like, being laid off from one’s job and long term unemployment, or having a marriage come to an end, or having a family member diagnosed with cancer. Specifically,  I’m wondering why there aren’t operating instructions for dealing with the loss of friends one once had, yet who drop away when life’s terrain gets bumpy and the view from the windows is less than scenic. Fair-weather friends, my mother used to call them: those who are most likely to appear when they are in need or, at best, when you are not in need. Because, let’s face it, friendship is sweeter when life is fun, right? A lot more work is required to remain present to someone who’s world has been turned on its axis.

Mind you, I’m not questioning WHY it happens. It happens for a myriad of reasons, such as:

1. People don’t know what to say or do. Keeping a safe distance allows them to watch without touching and very little extra effort is required.
2. Hard situations sometimes remind folks of their own problems - past or present - and they often don’t have the stamina for more.
3. Sometimes it’s about inability to pay attention to a story that isn’t a Hollywood action flick but a slowly unfolding real life documentary. People bore easily.
4. Folks get scared. They don’t want to admit it, but they’re afraid that if they get too close they might “catch” the problem. Like witnessing a friend’s divorce might cause one in their household, or knowing the reality and pain of cancer might cause a cell mutation in their family. Their fear takes on more meaning than their friendship.
5. They just can’t be bothered. They don’t want to take the time. They’re over it - even if their friend isn’t.

Initially, I was hurt and angry knowing that friendships were evaporating for reasons that, in my judgment (with the exception of #2) were pretty messed up and selfish. But in classic Kübler-Ross movement through the stages of grief, I’ve come to realize that what I mainly feel now is a deep sense of sadness and believe it or not, a bit of gratitude.

Relationships may be sweeter when they’re only fun, but they’re not nourishing.

As this big year of changes continues to catalyze and the guidebooks write themselves along the way, I grieve the loss of those I thought I knew, and celebrate the unwavering true.

In the long haul, I’m grateful to know and love a few well-rooted old friends as well as some amazing new ones. I am honored by these full-hearted individuals who have courageously reached out across the rough scenery and despite my grief to stand fast. Ambose Redmoon said, “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear.” 

Choosing love is that “something else.”

“When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures,  have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing  and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.”  ~ Henri Nouwen

Supporting Folks We Believe In

Last month, I featured a post with this same title about a friend and client who's work I believe is important to our community - and to the well being of community in it's larger sense. Collaborating with one another and positively supporting one another's endeavors in quiet as well as public can make a huge difference for everyone's success.

This is a snapshot is of Stella Lyn, an incredible village herbalist and doula. Sadly, she is soon to leave Southern Oregon, so our particular community won't have simple access to her attentive, practiced and excellent skills as a birthing doula. Thanks to the internet; however, she will be accessible for herbal care and consult. I'll be sure to put up a brief post when her website (www.stellalyn.com) is complete, so that you all can explore her work.

For now, take a look at the front panels of a recently created trifold brochure for Stella's doula practice. If you're from Palmer, Alaska, you're in luck - she's coming home! If you're from the State of Jefferson and having a doula is something you're interested in for the birth of a child in your life, call Stella and ask for local recommendations.

 



Khaki-colored Halo

I was lying by the pool at the Furnace Creek Ranch in Death Valley, California. The dry heat felt wonderful against my skin and combined with the the lazy conversations unfolding around me, I was being lulled to sleep.  Sound snippets of children laughing in the water, mothers calling out and friends engaged in small talk floated past me. I heard a deep baritone voice behind me inquisitively address someone in my vicinity, “I see that you are journaling. Is that something you do daily, or is it an exercise for this trip?” “Well,” came the response from my left, “if you assure me that you’ll keep this to yourself, I’ll tell you.” 

‘Hmmm, secret journals?’ I pondered with eyes closed. I pulled my consciousness forward and slightly turned my head to squint at the second speaker. The journaler was sitting in the shade of the pool deck veranda.”You see, Diane goes away for three weeks each summer to a work conference,” he began, (I’m thinking about who Diane might be - his wife? Co-worker? Friend?) “and she misses the kids and I terribly each year when she goes. She can hardly sleep at night. Last year, I had the kids writing her letters constantly, which I sent off every other day.”  

I felt myself smile at the image of kids bent over lined paper writing sweet kid-like descriptions of summer activities, and I inwardly nodded with approval at how I imagined it would feel to receive such a letter from a child of my own. 

     “Well, I found this old journal of hers that was empty, and I thought that this year I would take time to write in the journal every day until she has to leave, and then I’ll slip it into her suitcase before she goes -- so that when she unpacks, she’ll be surprised by it, and - you know - have something to read from home.”
    “How nice of you, “ observed the friend who had climbed out of the pool by this point and was drying off with a towel as he listened to journal-man’s story.
    “It’s just bits and pieces about the kids and their adventures, stories about special times I remember, and of course - some sharing about my feelings for her. Just that sort of thing.”

By now I had turned my entire head and was using my hat as a sunshade. I gazed at this unusual man. Now, I wanted to look at this person. I wanted to see with my own eyes, what outward appearance is worn by someone who clearly has such a large, tender and giving heart?

Nope. There were no outer visible signs on this average looking, slightly overweight middle-aged man wearing a navy-blue short-sleeved shirt and crumpled khaki trousers. There was no special birthmark, tattoo or unusual tribal marking. There was no halo or sign inscribed with the words: “I pay attention to my beloved. I care when she is lonely. I practice compassion. I observe the small but beautiful acts of daily life in my family and make note. I am willing to give of my time, care, creativity and present moment for the benefit of others - especially those whom I love.”

    “Wow,” I said under my breath and turned my face back toward the sky. On my right, my daughter heard my single word. Something about the short exclamation made her look up from the book she was reading,  “What?” she pondered. So I quietly described the conversation I had just overheard.

As I explained this man’s journal to my daughter, I felt a welling of emotion. Whereas the details of his life story were minimal, who he was inherently was largely apparent and very impressive. He was a good man and a loving person. The situation reminded me of times I’d read literary passages to students and asked them to tell me what they’d learned about the main characters based - not on their physical descriptions - but on the character’s very actions and dialogue.

What do our actions reveal about us? What, among the day to day exchanges that we have, might be considered “small” on the surface, but are actually very big? What little things do you do that can ease another’s heart? Which simple acts demonstrate steady and reliable devotion and kindness?  What secret journal are you keeping that whispers “I love you” in it’s quiet reflections and might forever change a reader’s life?

Healing with Sound

I've been enjoying working with Synthesis of Sound on their new website. It's concise, clear and lovely. The GENESIS sound therapy system is a fairly unique healing modality and quite extraordinary to experience first hand. Rather than try to explain, I hope you'll enjoy exploring the materials, images and resources of their new site. I also highly recommend that you contact Anthony John and try out the GENESIS for yourself! 

“Music washes away from the soul
the dust of everyday life.” 
~ Berthold Auerbach

Supporting Folks We Believe In

One of the most enjoyable aspects of design arts projects in the studio is getting to help spread information about people whose work I believe in.

Take Karen O’Dougherty, for example. Karen taught for a decade at Lincoln Elementary School in Ashland, Oregon where - among many things - she created a powerful “body changes awareness” program as a part of her 5th grade curriculum. After leaving the public school classroom to raise her three daughters, Karen was encouraged by parents of former students who had younger kids, to begin teaching and sharing the program again to interested youth and families. Body Basics I was then developed in the form of private group lessons and has been empowering girls throughout Southern Oregon since 1998.

My two elder kids (one male and one female) attended Body Basics classes during their eleventh years and learned to safely and openly discuss issues of puberty and sexuality as well as gained clearer insights into who they were then as developing  individuals and amongst peers. I look forward to my youngest daughter being among Karen’s students sometime this next year, as Body Basics has become one of our families’ educational rites of passage.

When Karen recently asked me to develop some flyers for local distribution, I was eager for the project. The flyers, one aimed at preteens and the other for teenagers, came together intuitively with images that worked well. This is a bit of the magic that happens when working on something I believe in, like the Body Basics Program.

If you'd like to see fuller format versions, check the Design Portfolio on the studio's website.

Work and Play = Contentment

As has become a part of my pattern, since we're within the first few days of the new month I'll offer a couple thoughts and links about the past month's postings that were "highlights.”

March was a full month, even with a two week hiatus from active posting. There were over 375 unique visits to the Martha Phelps Studio blog page and the visitor counter is starting to push toward the 1000 mark! Thank you all for the honor of being a part of your busy days.

I’d have to say that my favorite post this last month was one that didn’t even appear on my own own blogsite, but the site that was created as a community venue for sharing information about my son’s experience with leukemia. Day One Hundred Ninety-One shares the news and reality that is nearest to my heart and our family.

The posts Faith, Cartoon Sampler and Simple Monday Message are meaningful to me because they include a wide variety of artwork - from images that come through the camera lens to some of the painting I’ve been doing this past year to the whimsy of a quirky sense of humor conveyed through very rough computer-mouse generated cartoons. Making and sharing visual images is a joy.

Once Upon A time in Luning scratches the surface of the journey that was made to Death Valley, CA  - and there are more stories yet to unfold from that adventure, while Extending Life’s Radius was an extremely personal revelation that I took a risk in sharing, but what the heck - how else do we all learn, except by showing up and showing who we truly are?

This whole public journal is a part of the commitment I have made to continue to reinvent myself, even at 47. I loved getting Seth Godin’s blog today, Accepting Limits, where he succinctly talks about this very notion. I hope you’ll take a moment to check it out, and I hope you’ll continue to look in on what is happening here with An Untamed Life On Purpose.

Those of you who are fans through Facebook, thanks for inviting your friends and companions to also become followers. I mainly use that page to post my blog, but also offer regular interesting quotes and (hopefully) provoking questions.

This photo, a new profile shot, was taken by good friend, Jim Schlight. Yes, I really am that happy with a camera in my hands! I hope you all have work and play that make you just as content. 

Have a wonderful day. ~ mlp

The Thrilling Anxiety Of It All

Okay, I admit it. I’m thrilled and anxious at at once.

First, I’m thrilled by the realization and discovery that - given just an hour or two of solitude a day (along with the willing suspension of perfectionism) - I have a well of creativity to pull small buckets from on a regular basis and make this blog a reality. On the other hand, I’m anxious over the fact that this discovery is now asking me to rearrange the already precious-few hours in the day. (As in: I write, no matter what. I write, even if it means tacking more time onto the day’s end.) Yikes! My muse is a demanding character. Thank goodness!

Second, I’m thrilled that my blogsite welcomed 487 unique visits in the shortest month of the year, and that the studio has fans that I’ve known for years as well as some whom I know not at all. What an amazing combination of compliments! Meanwhile, I’m anxious because everything I read about successful blogging suggests that I’m really going about this in as bassackwards kind of a way possible. (And I’m humored by the fact that this is not at all uncommon for me.)

Third, I’m thrilled that, without a nudge from me but perhaps a giant one from the universe - the studio is picking up business. (Insert photo of me smiling here.) Out of the blue, I’ve been given the opportunity to take some portrait photos and design some promotional materials for folks who I have not only been happy to say “yes” to, but I am honored to support. Nevertheless, I’m anxious that I still have a secret longing for a big sugar daddy or some generous and devoted “sponsor” to swoop in and fund my wild untamed artistic life, as well as send me to Greece for an all-expenses paid writer’s retreat where (I promise), I will continue to post daily poems, beautiful photos and essays that are deeply thought-provoking and inspiring.

Fourth, I’m thrilled that February’s most popular posts yielded: The Boot Collage, Boot Size: Men’s 12, The Soul of My Boots (I guess y’all really liked Boot Week), The Sanctuary of God, and Visual Inspiration. And, the truth is, I’m actually not too anxious that posts: To Do or Not To Do, Tales That Defy Words and Putting It To the Page were the least popular. It’s true, they  touched on more “serious” topics and have fewer illustrations, but I felt great about them so, it’s not that big of a deal.

Fifth and last, I’m thrilled that spring has sprung here in Southern Oregon. I like the light, I like the daphne that is threatening to explode in a aromatic plume at the end of the front porch, I like seeing my youngest’s bare feet with dirt on them, and I like that my high schooler knows exactly how many days until spring vacation. But it's also a fact, I’m feeling anxious as our household heads into a month of new information about my son’s health and the next series of steps in his journey.

So dear friends - whom I know in real time, and who know me in cyber time - here's wishing you all a thrilled, low anxiety, fantastic, madly wildly blossoming, sweet smelling, hopeful, creative, abundant, time-on-pause, kiss the ones you love March. Thanks for visiting this Untamed Life On Purpose. Please make comments. Please share a link or two with your friends. Please breathe deeply. ~ m.l.p.

Putting It To The Page

The other day a friend who was checking in with me about how life is in our house revealed that when she reads the emails and blogs about my son, she often finds herself weeping. I was moved by her honesty and feel honored that my words have touched another person in such an intimate way. She asked me, "When you're writing about your boy, don't you just sit there and cry the whole time?" 

The truth is, I don't sit and cry. The discipline of writing grants me access to powerful experiences while allowing me to suspend many of the internal emotional touch points that might invoke my own tears. It’s a good thing, really. Because if I were to recapitulate some of the more painful incidents over and over - it would undeniably cause some psychological harm. I write, in part, to heal what has been hurt - not to soak in it.

Do other writers, like surgeons who practice keeping an emotional distance from their patients, also occasionally stand at arms length from their subject matter once they start to compose? I try to imagine the great Chilean poet and Nobel Prize recipient, Pablo Neruda, writing the words from his exquisite love Sonnet XLV:

"don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift

into me, choking my lost heart."

These words summon feelings of physical passion and manifest despair. Did Neruda relive that torment as he composed? Or did he reach into his heart's memory and call forth the vital essence - but take care not to reopen an old wound?
 

Clearly, to share about our lives - the joys and sorrows, the celebrations and the losses - we hold the initial event in our hearts and minds. The longer a story lies in wait within us, it is shaped and (perhaps) tempered by reflection and time. But when the moment comes to tell the tale, the poem, the song -- to actually put it to the page - the call is not to personally re-live, but to convey it with such acuity that others can also feel, understand and in many ways share the experience. Thus, we become connected in ways we might not otherwise have been, and we learn, grow, empathize, feel a little more seen and hopefully, a little less alone. 

It’s a good thing, really.

Thanks for following. Have a peaceful weekend ~ mlp

“I've learned that people will forget what you said,
people will forget what you did,
but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

Maya Angelou