What I Really Want to Say

In my last post I concluded with a paragraph that began with this sentence: “We who live today COULD BE THE IMAGINAL CELLS of the evolving human.”

I meant to write – as I did in the rough draft kept in my computer: We, who live today, ARE the imaginal cells of the evolving human.

How can we not be? Each of us has a choice to stay in bloated caterpillar rigidity or break open to this phenomenal transformational opportunity, ie: choose to be fed by the mystery that pulls us into the future, choose to engage with our souls, choose to encourage our species toward the next evolutionary breakthrough, choose to commit to lifestyle changes because it feels good to contribute to the well-being of our planetary family and it feels right to redefine happiness.

We need to ask ourselves deep questions: How do we experience love? How DO we love? How do we recognize and express joy?

What kind of interaction excites us through and through? How do we know ecstasy? How do we define juicy living?

Who are our kin?

Do we find the same satisfaction in a virtual world as we do when we physically participate in an adventure of one kind or another? I don’t think so.

It doesn’t have to be clinging to the face of a cliff without a safety net to be exciting. Dancing with a partner can exhilarate. Successfully creating something from something else can fulfill.

babeBirthing a child naturally can blow the mind, quite literally. We can experience the universe surging through us when fully engaged sexually with a co-creative and loving partner.

bear faceCommuning with a wild thing in our own back yard can humble and make magic of an ordinary day. Opening the door to the knock of dreams can be the spark that lights the fire of our passionate purpose. Embracing fear today can expand our options for the rest of our lives.

Where is our north star when everything we thought we knew gets turned inside out? That’s what’s happening to us right now on this planet. All our modern assumptions about how life works turn out to be faulty. We need to reboot!

Beyond words

We here alive now – the full range of us – are responsible for the quality of life we want to bring to this planet home of ours. Fantasizing about escape – whether it be into the sterility of a bubble or the confines of outer space – seems like escapism to me. If we don’t learn how to cohabit creatively and with reverence for our family home, we take a lot of destructive habits with us as well as handicapped body/minds and truncated souls.

That has no appeal for me.

Instead, I want my muse to jump into action. Just beyond the sunlight, new storylines wait to be discovered. As if waking from a long sleep, I want to swim in deep water, lower my fishing line and wait for the tug, from what I do not know. I’ll reel it in suspecting, even hoping, that I may come face to face with the unexpected, a plot line I hadn’t imagined before. Inviting a relationship with that mystery will change the world, my world and yours.

I hope you’ll dive in with me, for as an imaginal cell, we are stronger with many cohorts.

pol header 2

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Time to Show Up

One of my daughters asks me a provocative question last week. “Mom, do you really think all humans are creative? Maybe some aren’t.”

Quite frankly, her question stuns me. What?@#%*&??? My own daughter, the Queen of Creativity herself, born to me – the Crowned Queen Mother of Creativity -, questions whether all humans are creative. Wow, if she can question that, anyone can.

I responded, “OF COURSE, we’re all creative. Where do you think these words are coming from that I say to you right now ( or type to you right here )? The great black pool of fathomless mystery inside, the psyche’s source of creation, in which we are embedded, that responsive creative essence determines who we are every moment of every day.”

Like a fish swimming in water, or a bird uplifted by air, we have forgotten that which moves us to be.

That benighted notion needs restorying here and now!

Which reminds me of the caterpillar who doesn’t know she is also the butterfly.

Have you heard of imaginal cells? I first heard about them from the evolutionary biologist, Elizabet Sahtouris at a conference in 1989. She described imaginal cells as the cells which carry the butterfly blueprint to the caterpillar. When the caterpillar first gets wind of those butterfly cells gathering, s/he’s distressed and becomes a voracious eater. Consuming everything in sight the caterpillar eventually becomes so bloated s/he stiffens and becomes helplessly immobile.

Metaphorically, doesn’t this sound like our current need to gobble up STUFF and stubbornly stick to our illusions?

modern man

When those first imaginal cells appear, the caterpillar’s immune system immediately kills them. But as more imaginal cells show up, the immune system can no longer fight them off and the cocoon is made – that’s when caterpillar soup begins bubbling and that little living being is neither here nor there…another fine metaphor which explains why transformation is scary on both a global level and a personal one. We have to live with NOT KNOWING who we really are nor where we are going.

That just about “kills” us modern humans.

Our technologically savvy, scientifically modern cultures demand that we always feel in control of our lives and that we should always feel happy, know the score and be confident.

Bull shit. That’s not real. So we suffer from a host of debilitating symptoms new to the planet. A few of those disorienting symptoms are: alienation, numbness, raging fear, depression, seasonal affective disorder, fatigue syndromes, meaninglessness, anxiety, helplessness, addictions, addictions, and more addictions.

I no longer wonder why.

We’ve lost our connection to truth with a capital T. We’ve lost our ability to commune with our surroundings, to tune in to our body’s wisdom, and to co-create communal reverence for life itself and communal celebration of being engaged with LIFE and each other.


We who live today COULD BE THE IMAGINAL CELLS of the evolving human. We’ve transformed our species countless times before during our two legged history to achieve the fully functioning rational minds and scientific technological savvy we enjoy today. Now we can transform ourselves again but this time we can become whole, including all that we’ve achieved and reclaiming our essential creative nature and all that encompasses: intuition, spirit, dreaming, imagination, the power of synchronicity and being in the flow, and maybe most importantly, our comfort with the mystery, our compassion and willingness to dance alongside everything else.

It’s your turn NOW and OUR TIME to show up.

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Years and years ago in the dark ages of film when community TV stations were just getting started, I made a video. My friend Hazel Foley, no longer here on this planet, was a watercolor artist. I considered myself a writer/photographer. We co-facilitated creativity workshops in wild settings, including Glacier National Park. We wanted to expand our influence and thought making a video would be just the thing. We labored over that project, splicing frame by frame in a tiny editing room with no windows, uncomfortable chairs, dim lighting and lots of equipment, knobs, dials and trembling fine arrows pointing to numbers. It felt a little like a plane’s cockpit.

Super8 film it was called then, wasn’t it? Film that could actually break or unspool on the floor. A scary business. But we persevered and made a colorful film interviewing some of our participants and showing them at work sitting in tall grasses or beside the stream as they painted and wrote. We wanted the world to see how nature conspires to help us find our souls, reveal our unique creative voices. We called it: A Touch of the Wild and I really do want to convert it to a digital format so I can see it again.

Flash forward 25 years or so and here I am today sitting in the comfort of my adjustable desk chair in front of my own computer with the wide screen monitor and shimmering green trees and sunlight outside my windows making my very own video with my very own computer program.

secondAnd I’m still pulling out my hair. It’s crazy, what you have to go through to make a video. And yet I love it and have an unlimited attention span for doing it.

The learning curve is steep but my hands are held by James Floyd Kelly who wrote the book : “Getting Started with Windows Live Movie Maker.” What a godsend! And then I’m totally inspired by Steve Stockman. Outrageous and experienced he wrote the book “How To Shoot Video that Doesn’t Suck.” Don’t you love that title?

I’ve been wanting to make videos for several years but was shy about the camera. I’d forgotten until only a week or so ago, that I don’t have to be in front of the camera to make a video. Eeeeeeeegad. I’m slow witted sometimes.

early chaosLast week I thought this first video was done. I shared it with friends who offered constructive feedback and I decided to take their advice. It’s better because of that.

The impetus for making this video is so I can include it as a link for an article I wrote for Creative Sacred Living Magazine – an online magazine with interactive components, like watching this video or listening to an audio. The article is titled: From Scared to Sacred. I’d love for you to subscribe so you can read it.

In the meantime you can watch the video! It’s only 3.29 minutes long.





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Bits and Pieces

It’s not that I haven’t been writing! My words are being seen now on Praying True,  the global group on Facebook for blessing our precious planet and its waters that I began with my virtual – but very truebluefeeling – friend from New Zealand, Jane Cunningham.

In addition, I’ve been invited to write for a new online monthly magazine that inspires me. Called “Creative Sacred Living,” it’s been birthed by another online friend from my intuitive painting world. Please consider subscribing because I think it’s, quite frankly, AWE-some. And it even inspires me to paint brand new images JUST to illustrate my writing. I wrote for the first issue last month. My column, ‘In my Shoes’, appears for the first time later this month.

Only two more decks remain in my stash of the Fearless Sisters Oracle Deck – Awakening to your Divine Self. We hope to do a second printing but don’t know how soon, so if you’re thinking about owning a deck for yourself, let me know. The cards inspire, support and transform. Wonderful stories continue to pour in. You can read one of mine here!


And the riches of Spectrum. Oh my goodness. Each month seems more amazingly full of insight and encouragement than the last. Though it’s a ten month course weaving threads of Art, Body and Nature, it could take years to do justice to all the materials offered. And it’s colorful and approachable too. My teaching session,” Asking Fear to be your BFF”, arrives in mid June along with four other topics related to the theme: Activate.  I re-listened to my audio and was quite impressed. Really! I encourage you to subscribe. Even though we began in March, you’ll receive all the prior lessons. I haven’t opened up May, yet, so you’ll be in good company!

Recently, I accepted my own challenge to pray at the edge. I went to the beach and made my first Waterwheel. What a precious process. Thank you Pixie Campbell for designing this mandala form and making the connection between sacred geometry and shifting energy on the planet. Thank you Jane Cunningham for posting this on Praying True and bringing this new artful prayer practice to our awareness.

waterwheel one

I loved doing it. I kept it very simple since it was the first time and at a public beach but the rhythm of making the six petals and the concentric circles felt ever so good. I decided to place the wheel in front of a burned tree – probably a “recycled” Christmas tree – that someone had planted in the sand as a sentinel of sorts. I placed a shell and a piece of green beach glass in a crook of a branch of that tree and drew the mandala at the base. I found myself drawing it counterclockwise and said to myself: Oh yes, the moon and alternate reality are guiding me. When I finished drawing it, I put the drawing stick in the center and placed another piece of green beach glass on the top of it. That repetition felt auspicious somehow – like the concentric circles -ever amplifying/expanding. Then I walked counter clockwise making prayers for water and plants at the point of each petal, scattering herbs from both northern and southern hemispheres gifted to me a few days ago by master drummer healing friend from Cyprus, Heleniq Argyrou.

First Waterwheel (411x640)

Water and plants – at the tip of each petal, I added different embellishments which are already lost to the ethers – all blessings embued with awe and gratitude for this abundant web of water and plants on which we depend. Author Daniel Quinn recently brought this fact to my awareness: all creatures who live by eating do so by the largesse of plants.

Think about that…for me that’s a WOW.

Summer solstice is coming soon. I invite everyone to make a waterwheel wherever you live. I’ll speak to that global invitation in my next post.

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Wonders of Water

March 22nd was a global call to bless our waters. I didn’t have time that day to offer the proper prayer called for but luckily prayer comes in many forms. As I rode the ferry that morning back to the island where I live, I gazed down at the water I traveled upon with wonder. That to me is a form of prayer. How amazing is this element upon which this huge and heavy boat floats. Truly astounding! How can this liquid open up to my diving form and allow me to enter it at the same time this ship rides upon it as if the surface were solid? This substance called water supports an entire world with all its denizens while simultaneously providing food for the masses on land AND dealing with the outpouring of industrial waste. How astonishing is this being? Beyond words…realllllly. And that awe, that reverence, that love I feel are certainly a form of praying…and ignites my desire to protect this precious element.
water mtn
At the time designated for our region to pray for water I was teaching Painting True, an intuitive art class designed to nourish the soul, at the new healing space on Bainbridge Island called the Dayaalu Center.

Intuitive painting is a form of prayer so I’d told the group that water would be our muse that day. I titled the session: The Many Faces of Water, Reflections of the Soul.

birds and eggsWe talked in a sacred circle first and verbally free associated to the significance of water in our lives.

Surprising insights tumbled forth, ie: water takes the shape of its container, spiraling deep

water responds to the conditions around it (temperature, wind, earthquakes, moon, etc),

water is colorless but reflects every color imaginable from both above and below,

water transforms and changes character depending on its relationship to everything else. It can shatter into a million droplets and come back together in a single torrent.
Water is all about connectivity, kinship, magnetism, gravity.


Then suddenly one of our members – who happens to be a retired rocket scientist – said,

“You know, water is the only element in which its solid form is lighter than its liquid form. If ice sank to the bottom rather than floated to the top, our entire planet would be a different place.”

That got us really excited as insights started to flow about the relationship between liquid and solid, spirit and soul, spirit and matter. What if our body, as a solid, rises up out of the spirit, as vapor. What if the soul, as our body, floats up from the depths of the watery womb of spirit. Something about this reflection: the soul is the solid version of the liquid/gaseous spirit – this insight animates my being and feels like deep prayer and all of that is inspired by our conversation about water as replenishing, nourishing, cleansing, responsive, malleable…ahhhhhhhhh water, I am beholden to you for so much more than quenching my thirst.

And to you, dear painters, you quench my thirsty soul! Thank you.


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Spirit in the Pub/ Soul at the Table

My friend, Sondra, asks me to join her and another friend for Happy Hour at a local pub. I have never been much of a pub goer, so the first time she asked, I was kind of relieved not to be able to join them. But the second time, I am free. She’s “near and dear” to me so I think, “What the heck, Deborah, step out of your box.”

I arrive about 15 minutes late but neither of them is there so I exit the noisy, jangly energy of the bar with relief. Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

But as luck would have it, Sondra is hanging out in the clothes store nearby and hails me from across the parking lot. We enter the pub, find an empty high square table and a few extra tall chairs so we can sit. Our other friend, even later than we are, arrives, and our conversation heats up, in the sense of deep thoughts being bandied about in between bantering with the waiter and ordering our glasses of inexpensive wine. Then to my delight a third friend shows up, all of us elder types, but vibrant elder types if I do say so myself.

But then, but then, the daughter of a dear friend arrives. Only 22, she amazes me with her perspectives and her enjoyment hanging out with US. What a blessing!

Sondra, with a glint in her eye, starts fishing around in her purse. Triumphantly, she pulls her hand out of the bag clutching the deck of Fearless Sisters Oracle Cards.

“Are you ready to pull one?”

Even though I’m amazed that we’re embarking on a card reading in a nosy public place, I nod my head ,”Yes.” We pass the deck around, shuffling and cutting and generally putting our energy into the pack, each choosing the perfect card! Intention, You Are Enough, Storms, Compassion and Intuition…


At one point, we are so excited by the perfection of the unique wisdom and personally relevant information showing up that the five of us erupt into spontaneous applause. The entire pub quiets for a few seconds as heads turn to see what’s happening. Nothing anyone can see and the hubbub resumes, but I experience the bubble of loving exuberance at our table rippling throughout the room.

After we finish, my friends can’t stop talking about why this deck of cards seems so different from other oracle decks. Here’s my attempt at capturing their enthusiastic comments… so rich that I grab a scrap of paper to take rudimentary notes:

These cards are each gorgeous and perfect because they are unique, clearly expressing the truth of each woman who painted it.

The intention of “creating a soul-filled set of cards and messages to nurture, support, guide and inspire you to reconnect with your fearless soul” clearly guided each artist as she intuitively expressed what she wanted to say and needed to paint.

Being committed to that vision kept all the artists on track and that authentic voice shines through.

The artists’ honesty joins with the readers’ own authenticity, making it easier to embrace the truths we each personally need to recognize.

The cards offer a powerful invitation to get real, to step courageously into life.

The most important thing my friends said, though, is this: Your “work” is not done. The journey of awakening that the Fearless Sisters Oracle Card Deck inspires has only just begun!!!

The Fearless Sisters are considering a second printing but we’re not ready to commit to that quite yet. Happily, my inventory is dwindling so let me know soon if you’d like to purchase a deck.

And I really do hope Sondra invites me to Happy Hour again!



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Grief’s Gift

The tragedy that hit my old home town moves me in subtly deep and surprising ways – Trying to put it into words for you, I describe me as experiencing an openness, a gratitude for being embodied, an acceptance of life’s fragility, brevity and vagaries. I’m softer somehow, more able to encompass the whatevers that occur,  stronger and more stable internally. It’s good.

I feel privileged to live on this planet.

To witness the everyday miracles of raindrop on twig, tracks in the mud, new buds bursting, a crow carrying a twig, a gull carrying a clam, my dogs knowing more about their world through their noses than I can imagine exists, a bolt of sunlight through dark grey clouds, a wisp of breeze rippling the surface of the pond, the look of love in my granddaughter’s eye or the joy of frolicking in her puppy’s face, the color of paint transforming plain brown paper, all of that and endless variations on the theme of relishing experience are the symphony of my life.

Here then is my testimony for Michel, her journey teetering between worlds, courted by both, surrendering to the loving magnificence.


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