New this Issue:
Inner Tapestry is starting its eighth year this issue and synchronistically our theme is "Home" bringing our move full circle into this new beginning. Welcome everyone and thank you, so many have welcomed us into our new location in Scarborough. We are enjoying the home and new community, seeing neighbors is quite a treat for us.
As I wrote "Inner Workings" for our last issue our move hadn't started and now as I sit at my computer snuggled into a new space the move is becoming part of the wonderful memories I hold. Every time we move there is great growth, everyone at the house was definitely someone other than who they are now including me! Being able to be a part of the lives of people who are changing and growing have been some of my greatest gifts, though when your body aches and your mind is exhausted it is sometimes hard to see the trees for the forest, yes there is so much present all at once it is hard to see the individual wonders unfolding before us.
Finding the quite moments and being, willing and receptive, you can palpably feel the support which surrounds us. Our moved has allowed each of us to express ourselves in new ways. Stretching beyond what we know, to the unknown experiences that lie ahead with great anticipation and love.
We have a new family member, Curtis White, who some of you have met by phone or at the Yarmouth Wellness Fair in April. Curtis is now our advertising support person and is working on new distribution in western Massachusetts and expanding our current areas. He asked if it would be possible to write an introduction piece for the journal to all of you so please take a moment to connect with Curtis in the short article below, maybe this expression of sharing will be our newest addition to the journal having Ron, Betty, Curtis and myself answer your questions or just pop in to say Hi.
There has been a passing of two of our Inner Tapestry community members, Patti Gerco, from Massachusetts and Juliet Nightingale, who facilitated the NDE teleconference support group Light on the Water. Our prayers and love to their families. We appreciate the contact that we have had with them during this time of transition in their lives.
There are new practitioners joining the Directory of Resources, which birthed the addition of a new category "alternative housing," which I find to be exciting. This past year I have seen a growing number of people who are interested in starting or becoming a part of co-operative housing projects in our area. With the experiences that I continue to have living with others I feel this is a wonderful opportunity for people to experience more of themselves in unique ways that will expand us beyond our knowing of home and family. Coming together in what some call purpose, but for now I'll refer to it as "center," exponentially expanding the equation of "one and one makes two." Creating that center is to find the heart and when the heart is found home is realized as everything.
There are great new and exciting events being planned by those who support the world community and the journal, you'll find them in the display ads and calendar of events listings. These opportunities will lead us to the expression of the new world we wish to create together.
As our grass and gardens grow, and the gentle winds of summer arrive remember the gentleness of summer sights and smells, feel the warmth, surrender to the moments of "being," to center... to heart... to home.
Happy Anniversary Everyone! Thank you for your ongoing support of community and the evolving of its being.
A NOTE FROM CURTIS
A family seems especially relevant to me now as I’m joining a new family at Inner Tapestry Journal. I suppose it’s also on my mind because as I’m writing this, it’s a few days before Mother’s Day, and Father’s Day is only a few weeks away.
Who knows, as you’re reading this, you may be squinting on a beach in mid-July, the memory of both holidays having disappeared into the haze of a bright summer day. Sitting at my desk, looking out onto a damp, overcast day in May, I envy you, whoever you are.
But wherever, and whenever you may be reading this, I’m sure you can conjure up a feeling, a vision, even a smell of home.
When I think of my dad I can smell black pepper and hear burgers sizzling on the grill out on the deck. When I think of my mother I can hear her thumping her foot on the floor, like a punctuation mark at the end of a sentence as she talks on the phone with a friend. When I think of home, I think of my grandmother’s house during winter, her cast iron radiators hissing and steaming while she sits drowsily at the kitchen table with her glasses on, reading The Reader’s Digest with a coffee in front of her, her hand in constant contact with the handle.
I’m sorry to report that her kitchen often smelled like slightly sour milk. But I’ll let you in on a little secret: because this is a smell I associate with her, I still have a hard time being offended by it.
Those of you who secretly like the smell of skunks or gasoline will know what I mean. (You know who you are.)
I remember being a new member of my family. A little bit, anyway. I remember slamming around the house, wreaking minor and major havoc on things I came into contact with, chasing the cat, being very unhappy when I actually caught her, since her claws were much sharper than I ever would have imagined.
I remember climbing on laps, demanding cookies, trying on my Grandfather's World War II fedoras and galoshes. I remember being very entertained by the word galoshes. I remember trying desperately to negotiate with my parents for a bedtime extension so that I could fulfill my early childhood ambition of watching Fraggle Rock.
Incidentally, this was my first successful negotiation. Looking back I can see that it had a lot to do with my personal and professional development. It also has everything to do with how I came to write this little ditty you’re reading right now.
Life as a new member of a family was a constant adventure.
Connections were being made. Lessons were being learned. Tastes, sights, scents, people, places, dreams were all being experienced and catalogued for potential and eventual later use. Growth was occurring on every level. Independence was developed. An identity and personality evolved.
Every sunburn and skinned knee and cut finger and bruise, every physical thrill and victory led to where I am.
I still don’t know what it’s all about. I still don’t know the point of being a conscious being surrounded by other conscious beings we call family in a place we call home—unless it’s about growth through doing.
There’s just no substitute for Doing.
I’m a recent convert to doing. Or, more appropriately, I was born a doer, but had become, like many of us who temporarily fall from grace, a lapsed-doer. I guess you could call me a ‘born-again doer’ now.
I’m coming back into my body now.
I’m experiencing things through the five senses again, and I’m discovering that the senses do not limit experience the way I had mistakenly come to believe. The five senses enable experience—they enhance and make real and concrete what would otherwise merely be thought.
I’m back in the flow now. It feels right. I’m still working at it but that’s all I’m really supposed to do, anyway.
I’m content with where I am.
I wouldn’t be here without having tried on my Papa’s galoshes—or had it not been for the sound of those sizzling burgers, or the smell of black pepper, or the steam from those hissing radiators, or the sting of the cat’s claws on my sunburned thigh. The cookies and the negotiations to watch Muppets dance their cares away on TV played a part, too.
My dad told me this past Halloween when I turned 30 that the 30’s would be the building years—that this was the time to build a career, a life, a family. It would be the time to create. I’m looking forward to building something real and great with Ron and Joan and Betty. I’m looking forward to applying what I’ve learned and to experiencing new things together.
Now, as then, I join a family already in progress. I am looking forward to matching my experiences with theirs, jumping right into the deep and seeing and experiencing what happens.