Decision to be free

Those of you who have been entertained enough to follow me for some many years now will know that this is not the first incarnation of my blog. I started many years ago in livejournal then in 2005 moved to wordpress, Weaving The Web, because I wanted freedom of expression and to get away from folks I thought were trying to limit me. God/dess knows I do that enough my own self, don’t need any help.  Then in 2008, though staying with wordpress, I created this third incarnation, Love Not Fear.  I brought all the old posts over, even a few from livejournal, so this site is a mostly complete record.

The name Love Not Fear overrides the actual account hidingplainsight.  I’ve been Hiding in Plain Sight for a few years now. I have written a lot about my own personal process.  At times it has been, ahem, CHALLENGING, to stay honest when I am not presented in a flattering light. Like most of us, not all of my personal growth has been pretty. Some felt hurt by it. I’ve had a lot of growing pains in the last 5 years, more intense and deeper than usual.

One of the things that has also been difficult is that I have indeed been hiding in plain sight. My ex, The Forgiven, and my brother were very upset with me over some things I posted. Some of my friends in the SCA would write, oooh don’t say that because imortant  people are watching and you might not get a Laurel (Big damn award, uh huh). I said no to the SCA, no to the Laurel (not that it was offered but I stopped yearning for it), and no to the friends. I refused to be censored and that is how my current incarnation here began.  Hiding to be free.

All of this might lead you to think I’m going away.  But I’m not!!!  I have, however, decided to start anew.  I want to be able to share my work and my thoughts and my writings with people who are close to me and have been for years.  I have not wanted to share all of my process with them.  I have been considering for some time that I have a book in me and I think of it often.  One day maybe I’ll do it. For now though, I want to be able to continue writing and teaching and creating and I want to be visible.

When I was going to the channeler of Jeshua with the ex, it was quite validating.  One thing Jeshua said to me was that I had spent many lifetimes feeling invisible and that this was the lifetime where I overcome that.  I want to be seen and it hardly supports that when I am hiding my self away afraid that those who know me shouldn’t read my thoughts.  I’m still not sure I want them to read the archives.  I’m not ready for that but I am ready to have them see me now, as I am now.

As you know, I have reconnected with old friends through facebook and for me it has been very uplifting.  I don’t friend just anyone, only those I know and with rare exception those I would like to know.  But many of them I will never send here.  I don’t publish this url anywhere.  I want to share now.  My latest status update said this:

As I get to re-know my friends from days long past, I realize how inherent my feelings of separation are. How I never knew anyone loved me. I see now that I was wrong, I was loved for sure, but it kind of blows my mind how different my life would have been if I had believed from the start that I was lovable…

We pick up from where we stand…

I’ve been uncovering myself this past year. I have purple hair now!  It suits me. I’m drawn back to some of my roots.  That free spirited girl I used to be, the one who thumbed her nose at conformity and the status quo wants to fly again.  The self-destruction isn’t welcome but there was much that was good about me and the way I lived my life and refused to conform for the comfort of others. It calls to me.  But in a healthy, embracing, loving, and creative way. Something that builds… If you build it they will come.

Reveal #1…

I have this fear of heart attack.  Two of my women friends have had massive heart attacks in the past 3 years. Serious widow makers.  They both survived, one of them quite amazingly since the hospital was a long drive and a ferry ride and another long drive away.  They are both disabled for the rest of their lives.  With that in mind,  2012 I want to nurture my spirit more than my body, work the muscles and see if they remember my hurdling track and field days. My God, I do not have a double chin, it just happens when I reach back to look up at the guy and laugh, but boy I do have some extra pounds.  Introducing MR. FURNACE! Who loves me just as I am as I do him.

American Goth(ic)

Not pitchforks! Cake.  The cake has got to go…

Reveal #2

With that in mind, I’ve created a new blog.  A place where I will share some thoughts, some tutorials, and lots of creativity!  I won’t post as often as I have before but more than lately.  I think that what I do post will be worth the waiting for.  I thought that since I own stitchwitchcottage.com I might as well continue in that vein. Maybe I’ll even update that site.  I have a few tutorials in the thought bubble. While the blog won’t be entirely witchy there will be some of that too.  Right now my spiritual path is in flux,weaving and bending and flowing and I’m not worrying too much about what to call it or me. But I do have projects galore to share.  And joy! I have joy to share!

So.  Watch for a new post in a couple weeks (I have a LOT to do to get ready!! like new masthead and site design and a couple posts in the queue)…  Stitch Witch Cottage is coming soon to a puter near you!

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Halleluah

I couldn’t get through this without sobbing.  One of my all time favorite songs, Halleluah heals me every time I hear it.  It is a song about love and healing and blessing.  But to hear K.D. Lang sing it when, where, and, in the end an additonal, why, for Nodar, well see if you can make it through dry eyed.  This? Was the voice and song of an angel in her bare feet.

I thought that the opening ceremony this year was the most amazing, most encompassing, most passionate, most inclusive I’ve seen.  This pagan sat there in awe as she watched the shaman drum life into being.  As the scenes unfurled before me in silence I could only be amazed and grateful to have witnessed the life span of Canada.

I don’t have television and was in a restaurant eating with some friends when I looked up to see the snow falling and the shaman walk out of the mist and start pounding the ground with his/her staff.  None of us needed the sound and most of the table sat and just watched, struck peaceful.

But I missed this part.  While I know that this was planned long in advance for me it added a special poignancy to the sadness of Nodar’s death that was underlying the ceremony.

I hope that I’ll be able to get my hands on a DVD of the entire ceremony as copyright is keeping it from being shown on YouTube.  Have it I must.

Raclette and Me ~ Adventures in France part 3

part one | part two | part three

As I said before, France has not afforded me much dignity.  No sophisticated chats over coffee or wine along the Seine. The closest I got to that was a $10 cappuccino outside a lovely restaurant on the Seine.  50degrees F, cloudy, and rain coming in.  In May.

The long walks in Paris were grand really but I probably would not have ruined my back if I had brought a backpack to lug the heavy museum books I purchased.  Seriously.  One minor operation and three cortisone injections in the next year.  The Cluny?  C’est magnifique.  The Louvre?  Oh la la.  My hotel? Tres charme.

Standing at the base of the incredibly studly, gorgeous statue of Vercingetorix on the hilltop of his last stand?  Priceless. Continue reading

Chamonix – Adventures in France ~ part 2

part one | part two | part three

So, yes the tram. The tram in Chamonix that takes you a good way closer to the top of Mont Blanc is the longest unsupported tram in the world. It climbs almost straight up in some places because it is climbing the Aiguille de Midi. Aiguille means Needle. Do a google image search and you’ll see all kinds of photos that will take your breath away… But this one really shows it in my mind…

The whole family was going to ride up this thing. I was going to stay down in Chamonix and be a tourist. I was scared out my mind. My brother wasn’t impressed. I knew that they would come home that evening and be talking of nothing else. I decided that my fear wasn’t based on anything other than primate instinct and that I wanted to share this memory with my family. I will overcome my fears and be a stronger better person for it.

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You know you want to know ~ My Adventures in France ~ part 1

part one | part two | part three

I know you’re wondering what the heck with the no pants running around the courtyard screaming thing.

Well, it really has to do with me and France. I wanted to go to France for years and years. While I was drinking, living in Paris, writing like Henry Miller and Anais Nin, and being the toast of the bohemian Moulin Rouge ball was a huge dream. HUGE. But of course while I was sitting on the bar stool spending my bus money it just wasn’t an option. And then I got sober. And in 2004 my parents took me to France to visit my brother. And in 2005 I went again. How awesome is that? And it was all I ever hoped for and more. The more is the part that should have concerned me. There is no glamour for me in France. No dignity. Nothing but opportunities to shed all my walls and just be me.

There are lots of things that I could tell you about those trips. I can tell you that for 6 weeks before going (I was to spend a week in Paris alone in addition to the time spent with family) I was planning on drinking and smoking. And coming back and never telling anyone that I had relapsed and had 2 days. Thankfully that didn’t happen cuz I told on myself in meetings for 2 weeks before I flew out. I can tell you that the food is all it was cracked up to be in Burgundy. Paris was a crap shoot. I can tell you that standing in the snow, alone, at Christmas time, in the courtyard of the Duke of Burgundy’s mansion in Beaune made me cry tears of gratitude to Her. Standing alone in front of Rogier van der Weyden’s Last Judgement in the Musee Hotel-Dieu in Beaune also made me cry at the amazing vision and fine motor skill of the man. And the eyes on the wings of Michael the Archangel. Oh lordy. That archangel, almost as big as me, is a stunning sight, drop to your knees if the guard wasn’t watching you beautiful and scary and full of power.

But nothing made me cry like the ride up the tram in Chamonix…

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