Like banging your head...

When we walked into the Yoga place

yesterday morning,

I was already having a great week end...

not one of magnificence but tiny pleasures,

poetic moments of light and sweetness.

Like the two bowls of oatmeal

with melting brown sugar

a syrupy bed for the dried berries

to sleep, temporarily,

a pumpkin spice latte,

coating lips with foamy warmth,

calm water under paddles and voices of humor

behind me,

herons in flight or resting ankle deep in water,

a hula hoop demonstration in saturday sunlight

and my 'cancer fighting friend' on shore

with an apparent ring of light around her head.

All preceded by a night of singing out loud

with old friends and old songs

in a celebration of time passing,

the perfectly written movie,

that creates tears while smiling hard,

free popcorn, perfectly buttered

for three funny friends content to share

it all gleefully.

(Did I just use the word gleefully? hmmm?)

The yoga class is my first in twenty years

and Marlo, the dance instructor

is teaching it...

and yes, it seems I yoga like I dance,

(no surprise)

as bendable as old dried out stick

hurting, cracking

and did something just go pop?

won't EVEN try to stand on one foot,

but I can breathe...in and out

and I only mutter "crap" once

(out loud that is)

And I love the warrior pose,

so powerful and strength giving,

and when we are asked to

breathe in LET and breathe out GO

my eyes leak a bit

as I feel the 'one' who needs to go...go!

In a wing flapping flutter

of released energy!

When it is over,

I am all smiles...cause its over!

Describing it later as

"I liked it, not while I was doing it,

but afterwards,

kind of like banging your head

against the wall and

wow, that feels good to stop!

(sorry, Marlo)

But really? I was revitalized and peaceful

and walking on air...

And later...when I walked out with a new drum,

a new friend and the 'drum circle dream'

actually having a time and location,

as well as five people who have promised to show up

the weekend became...a magnificent one!

So if you have something to bang or play,

we will be at Rotary park

on the beach at sunset

making some noise...stay tuned...

Pam Piper Rain

Photo by Ed Earley

Our secret unlived lives

It seems some of us...

maybe even all of us, have secret unlived lives

that we wonder about

those impossible, imaginary

big "what ifs?"

This became clear to me last week

when my dimpled smiling, friend,

Mary told me

she dreamed of owning a flower shop

and how she wanted to deliver

all the flowers herself.

(she'd be perfect for this)

Surprised not to know this about her...

and my other, serenely strong, friend Janet

would like to be a sushi chef,

and it may be true that I would like to be a dancer

(and after last nights sing along ...a singer?)

Hmmm?

Even tho we are all artists and supposedly living

out our dream lives we have other

ideas in our secret pockets

the ones we occasionally pull out and

wonder "what if?"

Pretty soon we had a long list

of things we always wanted to do,

Those often resigned and reserved for

"next time around."

So what if we had

a chance to try these

adventures for a day, a week

possibly brave enough to even

take on that secret life altogether?

Soon I will have new ring from

Jewelry for the Soul that will read

passion, play, purpose, poetry

(all my favorite P words)

to remind me how I want to live.

In contemplating the

"what ifs"

a new idea struck me

what if there was a group of women

invited to support one another

in creating and nurturing

these Wild What ifs?

YES, a Wild Women circle

where we tie our messages

in trees,

fly paper airplanes with written wishes

and have red wagon races,

dress funny and playful in public

and can be seen dancing in the street

or drumming under the full moon

with pinwheels in our hair...

how might our lives change,

what wild dreams

might we discover we didn't know we had?

And who would like to join me?

Of course, my first call will be

to Jodi Creager, my witch hat wearing,

bib painting, tee pee sitting,

Wild Women sister of Havasu!

Jodi, What are you doing in January?

Pam Piper Rain

This big yellow chair...

The day starts with...hmmm!

That doesn't really matter,
because it ends with
the warm "mi casa su casa" embrace
of my favorite two women!
It has been since March
when I had my last moments here!

The house is lit up in cozy autumn light,
an oasis in the desert night,
this is my beacon of grace
I am home, home here
and I gulp volumes of friendship air
thickly fragrant and familiar
and fantastically full
of anticipated goodness
times ten!

The guest room full of softer
than soft pillows
and yellow smiling flowers,
arranged just for me,
a mobile gift that spins and glides
reminding me of the power of balance.
There is wine and more wine,
meals of "capered" everything,
food, so beautiful it is art
on a plate and requires a lingering look
before the first bite.

To be here is to be wined and dined
like royalty...
they say, "it's for my birthday,"
but this is really who they are.
(and anyone lucky enough to visit
long term or just have dinner,
knows what I mean, it's hard to leave.)

In the living room there is this yellow chair,
it is Suessical in a way with it's puffiness
and whimsical swirled pattern.
Positioned like a throne
at the head of the room,
it is where WE sit to be "Queenified!"
(Sometimes, there is confusion over
simultaneous guests "right" to the chair...
and a shuffle of seniority, is in order.)

This yellow chair is not only the ticket
to brilliant meals and being
catered to with "hand and foot service...
but it is a ride of rich conversation,
and "pee your pants" laughter,
with reenactments of stories like,
the Scottsdale necklace flickers,
adolescent ribbon dancing,
and my ever favorites
the "snapping scent-challenged
baby kangaroo" of Fountain Hills,
and Tucson's "whirling drunk
chap stick girl."

Realizing, some of my most
memorable moments (nine years worth)
have happened in this chair,
this yellow throne of happiness,
stuffed with the best of everything...
Oscar nights, L word, Survivor
and Grey's,
thousands of "toasts to,"
hot brownies with ice cream,
art show grumblings and praises,
and if your really lucky...
one of your visits may coincide with
the neighbors fiesta birthday parties,
complete with bouncy inflated houses
that bob and loom over the wall
to a low grade Spanish beat!

Timely for me to be here now
so needed...
gratitude overwhelms...
to be woven into
the "Mary and Janet"
basket of abundance!

These women are my "family"
my lighthouses in a storm,
my funny bone,
my sisters in art and spirit..
so this is my "almost beyond words"
thank you, to them!

and...I wish everyone
friends like these!

(Sorry, can't give out their address,
cause frankly, I am NOT sharing
that chair!!!)


Pam Piper Rain

find Mary and Janet at
http://www.metalworksarts.com/
http://www.jewelryforthesoul.com/

More Wild...please!

My favoirte poet, Mary Oliver asks,

"what shall you do, with your one

precious and Wild life?

I have this...

on a bracelet from my

artist/ jeweler friend Janet Wight

(www.jewelryforthesoul.com)

and it reminds me...

again and again!

Yesterday,

(my gal) Oprah had a program

about women who for some reason

and circumstance in their lives's

became debilitated,

without confidence and fear based.

They were asked to do many things,

of course, one,

was jumping out of a plane,

which NOW?

...After watching the results,

I may actually consider,

(psst, don't tell my

"let's do the polarbear swim" friend!)

These demoralized women found

new power... new "what next,

what else can I do?" possibilities

in their own lives!

And having stepped out of the box

myself, recently, in dancing

(OMG, what was I thinking

not once, but 12 times

to a MJ song?)

In public,on main street?

I... simply,

want more!

I want, more of

"what else might I try...

what else might I step into,

to be off beat

and out of my realm of comfort"

and yet,

have this phenomenal experience?

I am looking and waiting

and hoping...

it is right around the next "life" corner.

Cause, I am missing the "Thrill"

of exploring, doing, discovering,

...that I can be more than I was,

not amazing,

but definately inspired!

More Wild...Please!

Pam Piper Rain

Blades of Grass

Seems when your a writer

there is no option to give up,

disappear...check out,

there is a responsibility to scribe,

tell the story,

continue to seek poetic magic

in all things,

even in the heartaches,

the disappointments,

the losses.

"It's my job"

says Elizabeth Gilbert in her talk,

"Nurturing Creativity"

"and we have to show up for it."

So I do and I will even on the

days that are raining "ouch-es,"

it is my assignment to do so!

One morning getting up

and greeting the day at all,

let alone

with any kind of joy...

seemed impossible

so I did the thing I always do

listen and record...

this is that stream of consciousness.

Begin the day anew.

you must, you must

loss IS life,

nothing stays or remains the same.

The ground doesn't grieve the blade

of grass that's washed away

in the storm

but rejoices in the baby sprig

to follow

all loss is learning

a new birth route,

imagining new wings

that lift and create and shape

and ignite and allow

and trust and teach

to BELIEVE without knowing

why or how and then?

You believe again

in the next day and the next

and

you look in your dog's eyes

your child's smile,

your lover's hands,

and you remember laughter and simple goodness,

those moments that stopped your breath

moments that required you

to exist...

you remember that you are loved

and necessary...

to the sun's shine

to the moon's roundness

if for no other reason but

to be their faithful witness

to their astounding beauty.

Whether you realize it or not

your presence here is REQUIRED

required!

Beyond the scope of your

tiny self inflated life rafts

you are required to create wonder,

walk courageously,

practice profound wisdom

love endlessly without

the recognition of loss

tho it may be waiting for you

at the next turn

so is beauty

and her amazing sisters

called breathing, called life!

Part one Pam Piper Rain

There is Magic in...

Inspiration and magic comes in many forms,

it seems!

Even doing something we shouldn't...?

When I created a design a while back

during my abstract funky art stage,

of an awkwardly shaped character

it read, "Can't dance, don't care,

dancing anyways!"

not until, recently did I

have a chance to prove

the validity of that theory!

I think we should all

have at least one friend,

(and if we are lucky, more than one)

who makes us do things,

we didn't even know we wanted to do.

Like getting in a very tippy narrow canoe,

to ride the ocean waves for 12 miles,

all the while,

knowing you can't swim (well)

and really shouldn't be doing it at all!

Or snorkeling in deep

"I can't touch the bottom" water!

But, if we hadn't... we wouldn't have

glided with the turtles or

got wet or had that great ride

or any of the experiences of a lifetime

that occur in moments like those!

With so many challenges lately,

saying yes, to "new things"

has become a way to redirect my energy!

At our paddling clubs' birthday party,

this past summer,

someone knew all the moves to Thriller

and we all wanted to learn.

So when the newspaper announced last month,

there would be dance lessons for it

and then would be performed

on Halloween night...

my "you'll-love-paddling-in-the-ocean"

friend asked, "what do you think?"

I responded with "absolutely, lets do it!"

Course, wasn't so sure about that

for the following three weeks,

trying to just have fun...like Marlo,

the instructor said!

After the dress rehearsal performance

not only did the "FUN" happen

so did the MAGIC, she spoke of.

Course, I had been secretly hoping that

"the magic" would mean

someone else would miraculously

take over my feet and I would be

brilliant at all the moves...but, sigh!

(Not quite, not even close.)

We performed 6 times the night

before Halloween and seven that night.

A full moon came up over a main street

the crowd was ten deep and waiting

and cheering and applauding.

It was terrifically, exhilarating!!

Being zombies, we weren't suppose to smile

but it was hard not to!

The magic was in the energy,

in recconnecting with old friends

and making new ones,

(like, dancing next to the woman

who works at Safeway,

someone I always saw, but never knew.)

The music was magic,

the little kids were magic,

(who on the recorded version look amazing!)

The performance as a whole,

a big WOW dose of magic!

Watching Marlo,

make her hearts' dream happen

without a glitch or hitch,

while giving everyone an opportunity

to be a part of something large

and wonderful and successful.

...was magic!

(And maybe it is also in being inspired

to do something

that I CAN do well, like draw...

and create little Thriller Wild Women...

as a thank you gift!)

And there is magic in

the way we felt the next morning,

knowing we did something

we never dreamed possible

and although, I still "can't really dance

and I happen, to care that I can't...

(Finally, making less than five mistakes

by the last performance.)

...I tried!

And that too has magic!

As we float threw the following days

on this "thrilling" energy,

I am relieved,

when my friend reassures me,

that she isn't interested

in ever jumping out of an airplane

whew...!

cause, I am certain,

I would say NO to that!

Pam Piper Rain

Photo by "Eddorazzi"

Rhythm Challenged?

So the funny thing is...

I used to play in the high school band!

From an early age, I "pretended" to play

tin drums, trash cans

anything I could pound on,

even my younger brother's head

(when I could get away with it)

There was a deep passion for this

instrument and the act of banging on it...

was probably deeply based in my African roots

( you know, the ones I pretend to have.)

Never had the beautiful six piece

drum set

every kid dreams of owning,

parents wouldn't have the noise.

So in 7th grade I found myself

in the percussion section

at Hermantown High!

(yes, I said, Hermantown)

Some prior instruction would have been

preferred

by me, by my fellow band mates,

by the teacher.

Turns out when they pass out

the "being able to dance gift"

the "drumming gift" is also included as a bonus

(and there are probably others

in this package deal, that I haven't yet

discovered, but I am sure I will)

I had NO rhythm...

None, zero, zilch, nata!

All eyes on me, when the cymbol finale

failed to hit the right note,

time and time again.

But I pretended and pretended

I wasn't actually, "rhythm challenged"

The instructor didn't like me

and frankly had no business teaching kids.

Mean! Mean! Mean!

So much so, everyone

was too afraid to quit.

Even had to do the marching band thing,

which is sort of like dancing

while banging something,

that was REALLY sad!

Finally, when there

was a overlap in my class

schedule, I was able to escape...

Mean Mr. Band Leader and the pretense

of being able to play!

A long time collector of African drums

(again, due to my African heritage)

it seemed, they were to be admired not

necessarily played.

Cause, it was clear I couldn't!

In my living room, under a layer

of embarrasing dust were two books

given to me, six years ago,

along with a beautiful African Djembe drum

(which I had at least, lovingly kept dust free)

Gifts from a significantly wise friend.

One book was "how to play"

the other all about the "healing power" of the drum!

I decided not to muddle thru learning the specifics

(feeling Mean Mr. Band Man's presence)

and instead, discovered

a new and rich language

one without words...

like a heart beat.

...my heart beat..

all heart beats.

Began, by thinking of an emotion

and magic happened

my fingers spoke and moved and created

not musically,

but in pure sound,

poetic, spiritual, ancestrol, primal,

beautiful sound!

The voice of African gods and

anyone else who came before me

and who had beat on a drum

and found their voice,

their heart beat,

the one that simply says, "I am!"

Don't know that I will ever

pick up the "how to play" book,

but for now drumming has become a part

of my morning ritual...

my dawn song!

(thinking my neighbors

aren't too happy about this...

but what can they expect?

They are, after all

living next to a "rhythm challenged"

artist?)

Pam

Piper Rain