Reflections

Catching myself gazing deeply at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, scrutinizing the creases of my forehead, the unevenness of my skin tone and the loss of elasticity of the skin of my throat, I shift my thoughts in an effort to distract myself from what could become a seriously vicious game of a let's-find-all-your-flaws. Struck by the metaphor of the looking glass, I decide to take a look, instead, at what's good and true in my life by reviewing the events of this past year. Remind myself what I've been up to, what I've learned and give myself credit for a few things (for a change...). "Step away from the mirror!" I say sternly to myself. I shift my energy and my attitude consciously by moving to my favorite sitting spot, closing my eyes and allowing the meanness of my mind to clear. Hum saaaaaa.....

After several breaths (okay, maybe a hundred or so), a sense of freedom rises within me and my kinder, gentler self emerges. "You've had one pretty amazing year, Lydia!" she says, brightly. "You're not kidding," I respond. "I think it was the best year yet!" we chime together.

I open my eyes and feel tremendously refreshed. My curiosity pulls me over to my calendar to review all that's happened. Being seen (REALLY being seen), new career, training after training, amazing (like never before) learning experiences,  adventure, travel (finally used my passport!), new and deepening connections, new friends, new clients, deceit and the opportunity to recover from it, death, death, death, including it all and releasing the stuff that no longer serves me. A big year, indeed.

One unexpected benefit of all that happened to me in this past year is that others are getting more of the good stuff that comes from me and me of them. There's a sort of conscious expansion that's happening between those I'm closest to that's nothing less than magical. It's like what I got out of this year has boiled over, providing others with the results of my lessons as I've learned BIG and have more of myself to give than ever.

Here are some of the discoveries, explorations and highlights of my year:
MAGNITUDE -- a clear realization that I've been playing way too small my whole life and that I must step forth boldly, take bigger risks, become visible (highly visible) and achieve great things...

COACHING -- now THIS is a way I can serve! mentoring, supporting, listening, growing, transforming, connecting... profoundly satisfying!

AWARENESS -- I now know WAY more about myself (thus the world) than ever... I'm gaining confidence, skills, mastery, wisdom, patience, compassion and a sense of the synergy that exists in REAL learning -- magical.

SELF-COMPASSION -- stopped beating myself up (I'm still working on this one) and began treating myself more like someone I dearly love. People are imperfect and prone to making mistakes and poor judgment calls. Forgive thyself and start living NOW!

LOSS -- it happens, it hurts, include it in all that you are and feel it fully. Tremendous growth follows.

ADVENTURE -- just do it! live today. explore without judgment and with plenty of curiosity, be with everything that happens as it happens... pure bliss!

As the year winds down, I feel an increasing sense of gratitude for my life and the opportunities that I've been blessed with. There are so many things that I've experienced for the first time and seemingly countless and interwoven themes to accompany the moments I've spent. Surprisingly, and what feels like another first, I'm not overwhelmed by the hugeness of all this, rather I feel very well fed. Nurtured.

When you look back on your year, what do you notice? What have you learned? How have you stepped forth? Give yourself the time and space to reflect a bit and acknowledge yourself for all you've been through, good and bad. Let me know how it goes, will you? Just leave a comment here...

Something's about to shift...

Tomorrow's Winter Solstice will be paraded in by a full moon and a total lunar eclipse tonight. Opinions seem to vary on the significance of this astronomical coincidence, however it's certainly a rare astronomical event. Wikipedia says, "It will be the first total lunar eclipse to occur on the day of the Winter Solstice since 1638."  I can't help but feel that this marks the apex of a great turning.

Go ahead, google it... there are plenty of articles out there saying this and that. My idealistic nature tends toward following the threads of hope and possibility. My sensitive nature tells me to celebrate this occurrence by setting some intentions and staying up late to watch this celestial ceremony take place.

Here's a little of what I've learned in exploring this phenomenon:
According to Molly's Astrology, "The Full Moon is the culmination of the Moon’s cycle, and the beginning of the waning phase. . . . This is a good period for working on ourselves, finalizing things, processing information, wrapping up, and letting go of the things we don’t need anymore. This is a time for progress in the inner, rather than outer, realm. Farmers often use this time to plant root crops, which grow under the surface of the earth. A Lunar eclipse is a very special Full Moon. Decisions we make, things we let go of, and things we finish during this waning cycle have significance in the future. It is an excellent time to give up an old habit, for example, smoking. Full Moons in general, and Lunar eclipses in particular, are times of high emotion, and they bring awareness. The Sun and the Moon, our animus and our emotions, are on opposite sides of the sky, as if the other were a mirror. This is a time of mirroring, we can see ourselves in others if we are willing to look."

In the past weeks, I'd already begun finishing up old projects that have been looming and readying myself to shed what no longer serves, somehow driven to do this -- now more than ever before in my life. This letting go makes room to feel our emotions deeply and learn from them, allowing the new-found knowledge to turn to wisdom in our bodies as we assimilate what we're learning on a cellular level. As we take in each breath of the eclipsing moon as the Earth's shadow melds with the Solstice Sun's radiance to cast a blood-red glow, the breath swirling into the farthest reaches of our being, the Universe breathes us back.

This eclipsing moon is happening during what is known astrologically as The Long Night's Moon [astrologyexplored.net] and the Winter Solstice. "In Celtic mythology the Winter Solstice marks the death of the “old king” an allegory for the old year, and the birth of the “new king,” the New Year. There will be endings, but in these events are the seeds of new growth. In Celtic legend, the “new king’s” birth is hidden until December 24th, when the days start to visibly lengthen. The period in between the solstice and December 24th is called the nameless day, a period suspended between death and birth and belonging to the realm of the underworld. Eclipses act like an exclamation point . . . !"

It's a time of celebration -- for the coming year, the lengthening of the days, and now the new and great things on the horizon. ...and for me and a few other people I know, a birthday! I hope you'll join me in celebrating by looking skyward tonight and setting an intention of what you'd like to let go of, bring to a close, once and for all END! If you can't stay up that late don't worry, what's most important is that you give voice to what you're willing to let go of. What better time than now for preparing to kick off the next big thing in your life or even hit the "restart" button altogether.

I'd love to know what you will be casting off tonight. You can share some of your intentions here by leaving a comment.

I found my voice today!

I didn't realize it until I got into my car and headed to town this morning that it's been over a week since I've been able to sing. I just started singing along to the radio, as I almost always do, and realized that it felt REALLY good. Then, I realized that I hadn't been able to sing or even hum at all for the past nine days due to a cold that had infected my upper respiratory system, causing fits of dry, croupy coughs with seemingly no instigation. I couldn't even clear my throat, let alone put a lilt in my speaking voice without setting off a coughing fit. Singing had been out of the question.

Now, the interesting thing here is that I had been given the opportunity to see just how profoundly I had missed being able to sing! It was that REALLY good feeling evoked from singing along to the radio this morning that reminded me just how important this is as a creative outlet for me. I'm by no means an exceptional singer, and I rarely, if ever, sing for anyone but myself. In fact, I don't see myself as one who is particularly creative on purpose, as in an artist or a musician or a writer. This experience has helped me to see that I actually do use my creativity purposefully, even though the end product of my creativity isn't something tangible that another could hold, hear or read. The movement of my breath and voice, my face and mouth, my body's dance (as much as is possible while safely driving, that is!) and my hands' drumming of the steering wheel shifts and churns my emotions in such a way that I feel increasingly freed as I move along toward my destination. A sort of eyes-wide-open moving meditation, if you will. The further I go down the road, the better I'm able to let go of the doubt, the anger, the sadness, the judgment, the self-deprication... I'm brought toward a centeredness that enables me to walk tall, almost floating through each step.

I'm grateful for this unplanned fast from singing for the new appreciation it's brought me. I wonder what else I do that's a creative expression of sorts. I'm excited to use this new awareness to stretch my creativity and honor its natural place within me. I wonder what creative expressions others have that are missed when time or ills won't allow for them to be voiced. What about you?

6 tips for giving new meaning to Thanksgiving

This year we're staying home for Thanksgiving, just the three of us. ...and it's such a relief!

For years I would dread the coming of this holiday and I've rebelled against it in many ways throughout my adulthood. I rarely see my original family during this holiday anymore and I've inflicted tremendous guilt on myself for not feeling sad about this. It wasn't until embracing my sadness around the whole concept of Thanksgiving that I have felt not only relief from guilt and what I'm supposed to do, but a deep realization that I've actually not been rebelling so much as defining my own meaning of Thanksgiving.

The traditions set out for us as children are those of our parents and our forebears as taught to us in grade school. It's a time of gathering, possibly with family that may not be able or willing to engage in a way that feels good. It might entail traveling long distances, and at a time when air travel is an absolute cattle call and airfares are high. It means feasting, which can mean having way more food than is needed to feed those at the table, left over to be gorged upon in the coming days when others, even those in our own communities, are hungry and alone. ...and most of all, it means giving thanks, yet there can be a certain religious righteousness that goes all the way back to the Pilgrims that doesn't quite feel right (or at least for me, that's the case). In many ways, it represents traditions that may no longer serve us as adults. The good news is, we get to decide which traditions to carry forward and take the opportunity to reframe the holiday so we can enjoy it!

Answering the following questions can help bring new meaning to Thanksgiving for you. I've provided my own answers to these questions as examples.

1) What do you need and not need? What you think (or know) others expect of you will creep in here -- be careful to focus on your own needs when answering this question.

I need: deep connection, an opportunity to share abundance, to honor the harvest, to be encouraged to express myself and to feel safe and cared for in the company that's present.
I do not need: to travel long distances, to be with people who don't wish to engage with me, or to overindulge.
*hint* look to what matters most to you (your core values) to assist you here

2) What is your role THIS year? How do you want to take part? Notice how others' expectations of you creep in here, too. Focus on yourself and the part you want to play.
This year: I'm Mom -- creating a warm and welcome place for my step-daughter to come home to; I'm Wife -- providing a safe and nurturing refuge to my husband so he can be free to attend to his needs; I'm Daughter and Sister -- connecting with my parents and siblings by phone, meeting them right where they are; I'm a Sensitive Idealist -- donating extra food and volunteer hours to the local food pantry and preparing locally and sustainably grown foods for our table; I'm a Servant-Leader -- teaching by example and encouraging others to get what they need out of this holiday; and I'm a Compassionate Spiritual Being -- grateful to those who have sacrificed and lost, those who have taught me hard lessons and blessed by the abundance in my life.

3) Is there an emotion or feeling that you push aside when you think about all this?
Guilt and sadness are mine. Perhaps you feel lonely or misunderstood. Perhaps you feel overwhelmed. Spend some time with this feeling, really be with this feeling, and notice what comes up. Blame? Fear? Relief? Anger? It's helpful to do this in conversation with a close friend, mentor or another who supports you.

4) What are you grateful for? Give voice to these things and be open to listening to the gratitude others express.
I'm grateful for my loving family, my ability to be compassionate to others' needs and the amazing uncertainty of each new day.

5) What traditions would you like to manifest? Take a look at the beliefs and customs you've experienced around celebrating Thanksgiving. What do you want to carry forward? What do you want to add or change? I like to think about what causes me and my family the least amount of stress when I consider this one. I also like to focus on what I love about the holiday and leave the rest. ;o)
I love the tradition of having certain items on the menu: turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, pie, cranberry sauce and a green vegetable are a must. My additions to this piece are that we always buy an organic, free-range, locally grown turkey, my husband prepares it on the grill, and our green veggie of choice is brussels sprouts (as opposed to the green bean casserole my mom always made). Most, if not all, of the ingredients for our meal are locally and sustainably grown.
My husband and I provide a warm and welcome place that my step-daughter looks forward to coming home to.
I create a safe and comfortable environment for myself and encourage others to express their needs so that we can co-create safe and comfortable spaces for them, too.
I connect with my extended family by phone and share stories with them of the celebrations in each of our homes.
I engage in sharing abundance and gratitude and encourage others to do the same.

6) What about next year? It's important to be flexible and focus on what matters at the present time. Know that in future years your needs, roles and emotions may be different. You may be a guest and be uninvolved with preparing the meal (or selecting its ingredients), you may not have someone with you that you'd like to have with you, or you may choose to forgo the meal and focus on other traditions you've identified as important to you. Revisit these questions each year to be sure you're honoring your own traditions and keep your meaning of Thanksgiving current.

Identifying what's important to you then choosing to honor those things will give you tremendous freedom. Honor your values this Thanksgiving. It's a good first step in giving new meaning to the holiday!

Halloween, Death and Funerals

I've been somewhat consumed by the impending death of my mother-in-law. I'm sad that her time here with us is almost used up, grateful for having known her and moved by the way that my husband is grieving the loss of his mother, even already now that he's accepting the reality that she won't be around much longer.

Too, it seems that I've been hearing about death quite a bit lately. The death of loved ones close to people I know. It's almost as if death is something the season brings, along with the falling of leaves and the shifting winds.

It seems that there's some truth to this and I'm not the only one who's been thinking this way. Just the other day I received an email from a friend and mentor. She shared a lovely article that I'd like to pass along to you as it provides a fresh and soothing perspective that I've taken great inspiration from.

Halloween, Death and Funerals
By: Michelle Schubnel


I have always loved Halloween. 

As a kid, it was about scoring as
much candy as possible. In my teenage
years, it was a night when I could
justify getting into trouble. And
as an adult, I have totally loved
costuming-up for Halloween parties.

Halloween now has a new meaning for
me. My mom died on October 28, 2005
and her funeral was on Halloween. A
few hours after she died we set
October 31 as the date for the funeral.
At the time I thought, "Well this
really sucks. From now on Halloween
won't be fun because the day will
always remind me of my mom's funeral."

My mother's funeral was a spectacular
East Coast autumn day... clear, crisp
and sunny. As I noticed signs of the
changing season, I remembered something
that I learned from my study of and
participation in Native American
traditions.

According to Native American philosophy,
the time between Halloween (October 31st)
and All Souls Day (November 1st) is the
time of year when the "veil between the
two worlds is the thinnest." It is the
time when the spirit world is closest
and most connected to our physical world
here on earth.

That perspective shifted how I felt about
my mom being buried on Halloween. Instead
of it being a bummer, it was now a gift.
Suddenly it was "pretty cool" that my mom's
funeral was on Halloween.

The next Halloween, one year after my
mother's funeral, I participated in a
sweat lodge ceremony - a native American
prayer tradition, conducted inside a sweat
lodge, which looks like an igloo but feels
like a sauna. During the ceremony we were
reminded that the end of October through
the beginning of November is a powerful
time to connect with the souls and spirits
of people who have passed on.

During that sweat lodge ceremony I felt
my Mom's presence in a big way, much more
so than at any other time since her death.
It was incredibly powerful and enabled me
to see and experience how I can still have
a profound connection with my mom, even
though she is no longer here physically
on earth.

It's now been 5 years since my mother's
death. With the passing of time I have
found that the intense pain and sadness
has lessened, and the overall missing of
my mom has increased. 

If you are experiencing grief from the
loss of a loved one, I encourage you to
take advantage of this special time of
year and connect with the people in your
life who have passed on. Allow the feelings
of sadness and grief to be fully felt. Take
comfort in special memories. Remember and
honor all that you loved about the person.
Ask for guidance and support. This is a
powerful time of year to reconnect.

In memory of:
Barbara Ann Schubnel
1943 - 2005

Barbara at the Venetian
Vegas Trip - Summer 2004

I love and miss you Mom. It's too bad you
never got to meet my wonderful husband Adam.
I know you would love him as much as I do.

reprinted with permission, Michelle Schubnel, Coach & Grow RICH, www.CoachandGrowRICH.com

To Do or Not To Do, That is the Question

I was very fortunate to see and hear the Dalai Lama speak two days ago. He talked of compassion and its centrality to creating happiness through our actions. Intentions and devotion alone are not enough, he said. It is in doing that we affect real shifts.

The question was posed, "What should I do when I see a homeless person who asks for money? I see them often and know that I can't possibly help them all, and sometimes just walk past and do nothing. Yet I still feel compassion and know I should do something. What should I do?"

His Holiness answered with the following example from his own experience [paraphrased]. "While traveling in India recently, I had some time -- although not alot -- before a teaching engagement so I went out and walked the streets of the city I was visiting. I came upon hundreds of the poorest people, thin and hungry, with thin and hungry children and thin and hungry dogs. I knew that in the time that I had, I could not possibly help them. Yet I spent my limited time among them. I had to choose to do what could be perceived as nothing for each of them directly. I am doing many other things that have long term effects and my energy this day would be spent continuing on that path. If you can do something to help just one person, do it! If you cannot, it is okay. You are also doing many other things that have long term effects."

This answer provides me with both relief and uncertainty as to whether I'm doing enough, a paradoxical lesson I suppose I would expect from this wise and holy man! Okay, so I have to choose. I can feel good when I make a direct impact on one person and get the direct benefit of knowing my altruism made a difference. ...and the homeless person gains a little cash for their discretionary use. Perhaps this makes them feel good, too. This is certainly a good thing. Then there are the times, that I have no cash, or feel unsafe, or see more homeless faces than I can impact personally. Then what? Well, then I have to turn inside, feel impacted by the compassion I feel and use this feeling to fuel my other, broader, longer term projects. I might choose one to dedicate more focus and energy toward or have something that I'm already immersed in with big impacts already underway. I will then choose to give myself over to that project and know that I am doing what I can. The uncertainty I feel continues as I don't always, if ever, get to see the direct effect my doing has on those whom I serve. I must trust that my compassionate efforts of right action are enough, despite knowing that I may never get to see the happiness I bring.

Helen Keller summed it up well when she wrote, "When we do the best we can, we never know what miracle is wrought in our life, or in the life of another." Just look at the impact her life and her words have had on the world!

Although I don't know the specifics, I do sense that "miracle" in each new day. So, I'm choosing to do something each day, keeping an open heart and accessing my own wisdom, continuing to believe, without a doubt, that I am making a difference. ...and the difference we're all making together is profound! Look at the company we keep!

Stoking the inner fire

I'm feeling deeply grateful for my life and the connections I have made with others. To be a part of bringing about change, profound change, and hearing a smile over the phone line, a smile of relief, of sharing good news, a smile of utter joy for the changes afoot -- this makes it all worthwhile. There is something to this feeling, something that brings a flutter to my belly and a lightness to my step, like being in love. It's as if I sense a light at my core with the intensity not unlike that of a bright, hot flame.

John O'Donohue's poem, In Praise of Fire, celebrates this feeling beautifully.

Let us praise the grace and risk of Fire.

In the beginning,

The Word was red,

And the sound was thunder,

And the wound in the unseen

Spilled forth the red weather of being.

In the name of the Fire,

The Flame

And the Light:

Praise the pure presence of fire

That burns from within

Without thought of time.

The hunger of Fire has no need

For the reliquary of the future;

It adores the eros of now,

Where the memory of the earth

In flames that lick and drink the air

Is made to release

Its long-enduring forms

In a powder of ashes

Left for the wind to decipher.

As air intensifies the hunger of fire,

May the thought of death

Breathe new urgency

Into our love of life.

As fire cleanses dross,

May the flame of passion

Burn away what is false.

As short as the time

From spark to flame,

So brief may the distance be

Between heart and being

May we discover

Beneath our fear

Embers of anger

To kindle justice.

May courage

Cause our lives to flame,

In the name of the Fire,

And the Flame

And the Light.

from To Bless the Space Between Us

My Own Worst Enemy

I'm reading this terrific book: Your Own Worst Enemy: Breaking the Habit of Adult Underachievement, by Ken Christian. It's really captivated my interest. Already intrigued by giftedness and underutilized (perhaps undiscovered) talent, especially as it pertains to how we each show up in the world, I'm becoming even more excited about the possibilities that these facets of life present. This book takes a look at the habit of complacency and the self-limiting behaviors of high potential people, a growing phenomenon among people today.

Only one-third the way through it, I'm seeing a theme consistent with my own developing ideas and theories around leadership, sustainability and deep personal fulfillment. I'm seeing remnants of myself and many people whom I know and love in the examples the author provides. Situations of putting ourselves close to the target so we're sure to hit it or dumbing ourselves down so as to fit in (a common adolescent-early adult ploy) might have made things easier at first, but later we became averse to challenge or even decision-making and lost or risked the loss of credibility as we fell deeper into these self-limiting habits.

I so appreciate the author's passion that people can break free of their self imposed limits and learn to achieve great things. He opens up the reader's awareness and provides the tools necessary to make achievement possible. ... but beware, he doesn't sugar coat it: it's all about change, accepting the responsibility of choice and taking action in directions that will actually allow you to grow and shine as opposed to stay miserably stagnant in what has manifested itself previously as bad luck, oppressed conditions, loneliness, boredom, being misunderstood, feeling incapable of making a difference, fear of disappointment, rebellion or lack of opportunity.

The rest of this book awaits me and I'm looking forward to learning more about breaking the habit of adult underachievement. I'd love to hear from you and discuss what resonates with you as you read.

Unwilling to accept this as a helpless situation

the fog hasn't burned off here since Monday... I'm caught between enjoying the abundant birdsong and the fact that everything's lush and green from the moisture in the air and a severe lack of motivation and tendency toward falling into a funk. Today I'll choose to be sunny despite what the weather brings and take the opportunity to nurture my mind, body and soul by marveling at the mist, drinking plenty of water and connecting with others like me!

Now, don't get me wrong -- I'm definitely not known for being all goodness and light all the time, but when the goin' gets tough, my warrior nature comes forth to put everything right. "I'll have none of this doom and gloom," she says. "It's just a little grey and moist out there -- definitely NOT the end of the world." ...and deep down, I know she's right. I know the sun's up there, just beyond the fog, a consistent presence providing me with gravity to help keep me grounded and occasional doses of vitamin D to help me to assimilate important minerals, at least.

So, I'll count on that.

Meanwhile, it's officially the full moon in another hour or so here. I won't be able to see the moon until much later today due to its orientation with the Earth in relation to me. Perhaps the fog will have lifted by then to afford me a glimpse. It's the wedding day of some dear friends and the power of this particular full moon, the one that follows the summer solstice and is also a partial eclipse, is sure to bless this day with rich abundance in the form of collective creativity. An astrology report that I read this morning explains: "...such a configuration can lead to great creativity, by squeezing us to be more resourceful and inventive." I'm looking forward to being a part of the collaboration of what will make this day a beautiful celebration of love, community, Nature, and shared gifts, excited for my friends as they embark on this new depth of being together.

I'm still hopeful that the sun will shine as it is my friends' wedding day, after all, but if I have to accept that I'll be wearing long pants and a sweater rather than the pretty green dress I had picked out, so be it!

An unexpected visitor

As we were driving home from the farmer's market just now, I noticed what I thought was a toad hopping in the road. As I slowed my car to a stop, I realized that it was a baby bird. Concerned that it would get squished by another driver on this shady stretch of country road, I asked my husband to rescue it from the street. Assuming that it was too small to care for itself and guessing that it was kicked out of its nest, we decided to bring it home to see what we could do about providing it with something that might allow it to fully fledge and survive on its own.

When we got home, we pulled out the bird book and identified it as a pygmy nuthatch, Sitta pygmaea. We learned something of its habitat, feeding, and growth and felt blessed to have the opportunity to get to know it better.

Judging by its plumage, we believe it's a she. She's got most of her feathers and appears to be uninjured, but isn't able to fly. Perhaps she's just not ready yet. She happily took some water that we offered her from a dropper and some aphids from our plum tree.

We realize despite our excitement that she's got to be pretty frightened, so we're allowing her some time alone to rest near an open window so she can hear the birds of her species in the trees outside, but not so near the window that she will catch a chill. I know that birds are extremely sensitive to drafts so I want to be careful.

We're encouraged by her willingness to eat and drink what we've offered. She's content enough to preen, so we're taking that as another good sign. The fragile yet persistent lifeforce inside her coaxing her to express her birdness is a profound example of the inner knowing that all beings have to take care of themselves even if it means accepting help from complete strangers. What a brave little bird! I only hope that we can offer her enough of the right stuff to ready her for independence.

The goats arrived!!!

Today marks the anniversary of the day the goats arrived here at Soul Fire Farm. It was a sunny and cool day three years ago -- truly a perfect day to welcome them in! Five little goatie girls, Nubian-Boer mix, about 12 weeks old... Of course they were frightened at first and found comfort in each other, staying bunched up in a tight herd and hiding in the tall queen anne's lace and nettles.

It took some time for us to get used to each other. Me, not being a goat and new to goat-keeping and them being in a brand new place with everything about them seeming strange and unfamiliar. The first week was spent sitting near them quietly, letting them know that I'm not a threat. We were curious about one another and they began to learn that they were safe here. By the end of that week we had named them -- Maaxx, Cinnamon, Pearl (S. Buck), Cecile and Emily, their personalities providing evidence of who they were as individuals. Maaxx, the smallest, was very vocal and the first to make contact. She would call out as if to say, "I'm here and life is good! MAAXX!!" Cinnamon's warmth, her soft, woolly coat and the color of her floppy left ear made her name evident. My daughter, Jules, named her and quickly claimed her as her favorite. Pearl S. Buck, Cinnamon's sister, having a propensity to greet us suddenly from behind with her little horns, had a name that came easily to us. Not so much for her literary prowess... Cecile, ever-the-skeptic, standing farthest back in the herd with her lips pursed as if wanting to speak yet not finding the words. And Emily, Cecile's sister, the prettiest of the bunch, whose fur bristles with uncertainty between trust and the pull of her flight instinct.

Soon they had cute little red collars with shiny brass name tags so they could be readily identified by neighbors in case they somehow got out. But was that really the reason for the collars and name tags? I realize now that I was identifying with them as individuals. Seeing them move and act as a group and now all have matching collars was only the beginning of my understanding of these girls. Although each was born as a separate being, they truly function as one. They are a herd and it's taken me a good part of these three years to get to know the entity of the herd itself. They've established an echelon -- each has a need to be treated the same as her herdmates, yet there's a definite order to who gets what when and how much. There's something more to it than your typical human group dynamic that's tough to describe in words. They are interconnected by an instinctual force that is deep within them. ...and it's a different interconnectedness than what I've observed in dogs when they run in a pack. More similar to birds with their pecking order and tendency to bunch together and move in synch with one another. Perhaps that's why a herd of goats is also called a flock.

I've learned so much from their presence in my life. The loss of Maaxx that first winter while I was away at an ecological farming conference taught my husband the importance of processing grief his own way and gave him the opportunity to create his own ceremony to honor her life and the transition that returned her to the Earth sooner than we had hoped. We were both given a crash course in caring for very sick ruminants, something neither of us had any experience in. Maaxx was a runt and hadn't developed a strong immune system. She was overtaken by parasites that had taken up residence inside the guts of the whole herd. She got the brunt of it and Cinnamon was also very ill. Maaxx and Cinnamon were being kept separate from the others in the weeks that preceded Maaxx's death. The stronger goats horribly bullied them in an attempt to cull them as if they were diseased appendages. Maaxx and Cinnamon pined for their sisters and we'd allow them short supervised reunions with the herd, but the bullying continued. Cinnamon eventually got strong enough to return to the herd full time, but not Maaxx. We gave her free reign of the garden to browse on any herb, vegetable or fruit tree she wanted in hopes of getting her enough additional vitamins and minerals to bring her back to good health. She received lots of pampering and daily visits back to the herd. In time, however, she lost interest in eating and became very weak. Yet she never lost her spirit even when she could no longer stand on her own. She couldn't even call out her own name... MAAXX! only a tiny gasp of air lifted off her dry, nearly lifeless tongue. Until the night before she died. She called out... MAAXX! pining for her herd... MAAXX! and my husband understood. So he scooped her up gently, making sure she was secure and warm in her little goat coat we had bought her to help protect her from the winter chill and he carried her down to the manger and nestled her in the straw amongst her herdmates. They stayed with her that night allowing her to be a part of them one last time. By morning she was gone.

For the next week of so, they laid on her grave, in their own way mourning the loss of a bit of their own lives. Scott and I miss her still, yet we're somehow better for having had the opportunity to be a part of her herd.

Today our herd is strong and healthy. The adoption of Paloma, an American Alpine who arrived the following winter, creating new shifts in the herd and new opportunities for each of us to grow and learn even more about goat herd dynamics. It will be interesting to see what brings the next significant shift to our herd. Meanwhile, we'll enjoy them in all their innocence and never stop learning from them.

Welcome to the Sensitive Idealist!

Here a place to find connection, inspiration, information and resources for your journey in life as a sensitive idealist. I'll be sharing insights and musings, providing a forum for collaboration, and highlighting sensitive idealists who are out there making this world a better place!