changes

my life has gone through a whirlwind of changes since my last post in September. my marriage of sixteen years came to an end (though a longed for change it did not come without its struggles), i met my soulmate and i moved from Michigan to North Carolina to be with him. we live in the little house behind the bigger house with a cat named Ganesh in love, bliss, and rhythmic harmony, and are anticipating the arrival our baby this December. we've just been accepted to give birth at the only birthing center in North Carolina by a group of amazing, wise, and intuitive midwives (it was an incredible task to find someone who would perform an out of hospital birth here in NC, so we are incredibly grateful).

my outerworld finally feels aligned with my innerworld, and i sometimes just sit in awe and disbelief that this is actually my life. i feel like i am livin' my dream.

with love and light.

~tammy

{{{in an attempt to put some money aside for our transition into bringing a child into our lives i am having an "In Celebration of Baby Sale" in my Etsy Shoppe...
http://www.etsy.com/shop/WithMetta?ref=si_shop }}}

untitled

river take me with you
you can do what you will please

or let me sink into the ground
and stand among the trees.

i'll stretch my arms to heaven
and let a sparrow perch

let tears of laughter fall
to help fertilize the earth.

i'll stand on mountain peaks
and let the winds rip through me

and stir the winds that call the rain
when crops below are thirsty.

i want to hear the lions out
and encourage doves in flight

to see your face in mine
would be the perfect sight.

ocean swallow me whole
and set my spirit free

life doesn't end with dying
we simply inter-be.

untitled

the universe
has things to say

and

she's
found an instrument
to help convey

on porches hung
and
in the trees

near open windows
to catch the breeze

wind and song
on brass and clay

wood and glass
swing and sway

threads of life
strands like veins,
piano wire
and
guitar strings

a rhapsody
a soliloquy
a breathing,
uninhibited
symphony

often ignored

it's
a voice
to be heard

close your eyes

be still.

you'll
understand
every

word.

in the trees

branches
reach
out
above
my
head
showing
me
their
painterly
ways.

black
strokes
and
canvas
sky

Chinese
calligraphy

i
meditate.

mesmerized

i
close
my
eyes

(it's
then
that
i
truly
see).

pieces
of
sky
left
behind

and

fragments
of
color
that
change
with
time.

like
stained
glass
in
a
cathedral,

with
no
roof
to
stand
between
us,

this
is
my
temple
it's
where
i
see
god,

buddha
krishna
mohammed
and
jesus.

my grandfather's legacy is in a peach tree

it looks like we'll have peaches this year! after four seasons one of our peach trees is flourishing and seems strong enough to hold onto her fruit. during the past years all it would take was a good rain, the subtlest of winds, or even an accidental bump to send the small peaches falling to the ground. this year, though, the peaches continue growing in size, transforming in color, and keep hangin' on.

as the seasons before, our second tree, the much smaller of the two, began to fruit and then lost her hold on them. i don't think she is getting enough sun so we're going to move her this fall to a place where it will be more accessible for her to soak in the sun's life-giving energy. i'm hopeful though. her leaves are beautiful and she flowers and fruits every year, she's just not strong enough, yet.

soon after my grandparents from Sicily married my grandfather planted a peach tree in the front yard of their home in Detroit. i loved that peach tree. as a child i reaped the utmost joy from picking the peaches and devouring them in all their goodness while sitting under the tree embraced by its shade. it was such a luxury. during the drive home from my grandparents' place i would fixate on the prickly moustache that the peaches always left behind. i would rub my tongue across it incessantly, and smile inside and out.

my grandfather and i were never very close. in fact, i can't recall a single conversation that i ever had with him. my memories of him are more like mere observances, almost like i had had a series of out of body experiences. he rarely talked, but often yelled. sadly, i don't think that he was close to anyone~ not his fourteen children, nor his even greater myriad of grandchildren, or even my grandmother- his wife of sixty years. he was stubborn, and aggressive, and a misogynist. i believe that he probably came from generations of men who confused being coarse, controlling, and combative as signs of strength. my grandmother was tender, giving, and obedient. she never yelled, but rarely talked.

honestly, i was frightened by my grandfather and when i was around him i just tried to stay out of his sight. the peach tree, though, gave me a sense of solace on our visits, and i would come to appreciate it, as well, for something that i wouldn't realize until i was older. i believe that the peach tree allowed me to be in touch with a more gentle and compassionate side of my grandfather. he cared deeply for that tree and it showed by the abundance of sweet fruit that it bestowed each year. that tree became symbolic to me of my grandfather's true nature, nurturing and loyal. he hid that side from everyone around him, i'm assuming because he thought it would make him vulnerable and deemed "unmanly", but i know that he found his own sense of solace in that peach tree, too.

it's been twenty-five years since my grandfather passed on. soon after his passing his beautiful peach tree succumbed to a disease and had to be chopped down. even though i was young i made the connection. when i decided to add fruit trees to our little homestead i never hesitated with my choice. though my grandfather was so guarded and unwilling to open himself up to love i am eternally grateful to have been able to know him and receive his love by way of the most delightful fruit. the peach tree has come to remind me that there is some goodness in everyone, it has taught me patience and empathy. my grandfather's tree also taught me that if you put love and mindfulness into something it will manifest those attributes in multitudes by its fruit, and those fruits will be available for others to harvest. i am grateful that the universe works this way, and i often meditate on the peach tree.

on the farm

last week i began volunteering at a farm animal sanctuary here in Michigan- S.A.S.H.A. Farm in Manchester, just outside of Ann Arbor. SASHA Farm is the mid-west's largest farm animal sanctuary, housing and caring for over two hundred animals. the animals' stories of how they came to the farm are each unique but most, very unfortunately, include some form of abuse, abandonment, and neglect. however, after so much hardship they are now at a place that provides them with an abundance of love and healing. it's beautiful that places like this exist.

most of my work is with the cat barn. there are thirty some cats that reside on the farm and as i work i'm usually followed around by a feline procession, but i don't mind. i'm sure my pace is slowed down by my many breaks to give affection and attention, but love is just as vital as cleanliness in the manifestation of well-being.

yesterday, in addition to the cat barn, i cleaned out two of the pens that are being used for some goats (i'm quickly becoming really good at cleanin' up poop!). the animals have sixty-five acres of land to freely roam but when certain animals need special care, or are just being introduced into the fold, the pens are used.

there are currently two baby goats on the farm and they are so small and incredibly excited about life. i'm enamored by them and love to watch them hop around and discover the wonderments that reside in a simple pile of hay or plastic bucket. i spent some time with "Katie", the doeling, and found it really difficult to pull myself away from her. these animals' unconditional love is something from which we humans can definitely learn.

the drive out to Manchester can take up to two hours depending on traffic, and i have committed myself to once a week on the farm, every Monday. i rarely drive my car so i feel as though the lengthy trek will not increase my carbon footprint by much, it will, however, increase the healing that we are in desperate need of on this planet.

the drive, alone, is a thing of beauty. once on M-52 there's a spectacular cosmic shift that takes place. concrete, billboards, and busyness is replaced by quiescence and pastoral roads lined with cornfields and hip roofed barns. thistle, chicory, and joe-pye reachin' towards the sky... it will be incredibly refreshing and restorative for me to get out of the city at least once a week.

drishta dharma sukha viharin