About

Heirloom blanket for the littles in your life.

Vintage, salvaged and one-of-a-kind fabrics and designs, each one is a work of art and entirely unique.

100% organic cotton lining, machine wash/dry or hand wash and line dry.

Made to grow with your little ones and be passed down for generations.

 

 

Questions.

I found a list of similar questions that an alternative college on an island where I used to live was asking of their faculty and loved the thoughts they brought up.  I want to ask these questions to everyone I meet. . .and so I started with myself. . .

• Where did you accomplish your most important learning?

through books, in the garden and kitchen with my mum, in asanas around the world, and solitary moments on mountaintops

• What is your work here in the world?

so much.  everything i do is part of my “work” here in the world. . . every smile at a stranger, every phone call to my beautiful mum, every client i counsel, every yoga posture i sink a bit more into.  . . it’s all part of my work here.  we are here to love, heal, laugh, create, savor, push, pull, drink in each individual sunset, and change whatever we can in our own small corners so that the ripple effect reaches in ways we’ll ever fully see . . .

when i chose my high school yearbook quote i remember being puzzled by it instantly, not entirely sure why i had chosen it (except that i loved f.scott fitzgerald) but knowing that it had meaning that would someday fully reveal itself:  “it was a stream where he was to throw a stone whose faint ripples would be vanishing almost as soon as it left his hand”. . .. vanishing because they were already on their way to places he hadn’t yet imagined. . .

• Why do you work at what you do?

because i’m inspired by those i work with and i think all of us have a responsibility to serve the world (in a non-altruistic way) as best we can while savoring the incredible everyday moments

• How long have you been part of the world community? What has changed in your lifetime?

just 30 years in June. .  and i’ve seen so many of the usual and organic ebbs and flows but it still never ceases to almost drop me to my knees in amazement.  i also remember when facebook didn’t exist, nobody had cell phones and i remember when email was a novelty.

• If your current neighborhood community were pieces of fruit, you’d have a neighborhood full of …

deliciousness. . .

• What is the most significant challenge the current generation  faces?

learning to accept responsibility for becoming strong and authentic men and women who will teach the next generations. . .http://bit.ly/ahdOrl

• Where are your roots?

atlantic roots. . . entwined evergreen, salt water, rich soil. . .Maine

• Ocean or mountains?

can i have both?

but if pushed to choose, i feel the ocean calling me when i’m away from her

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• Where do you like to do your work?

so many places, in city lofts, in sun-filled backyards, at long wooden tables with others, on the floor working on hanuman or pigeon poses, under fluffy down comforters, in candlelit kitchens with tea or stews simmering. . .

• Which books do you keep on your desk, in your pocket, on your nightstand?

i’m sort of a nomad now so my books are mostly packed away in various locations, and i have a really hard time narrowing it down to a handful of favourites. . . but Ahab’s Wife, The Bhagavad Gita, The Sun Also Rises, foodie type books especially if they’re about local, organic, whole and slow food movements. . .

• What can’t you live without?

an extra fine black pilot pen and a moleskin notebook.  . . sadly my iphone is on that list right now (because it’s a notebook, camera, map and music player) and a sense of adventure

• What brings you joy?

so many things.  it’s absolutely amazing how much in this life has the ability to bring joy and how much capacity for joy we all have. . .  it thrills me to my marrow (to take a line from CSN&Y)

• What does ‘green’ mean to you?

living with common sense and simplicity.  whole, real, interconnected, conscientious and conscious. . .

• What’s the craziest, loveliest idea you’ve had/heard as of late?

leaving the sticky new york city heat and journeying to maine for a week and then hopping across the ocean to paris for another week.  . .

Treasure in the Dirt

With the Harvest Moon come and gone, it’s fitting that we delve into the greatest harvest there is and the rich treasure that we’re gathering the last frost-sweetened bits of before winter arrives (at least here in the Northeast).

Recently, gardening has been brought to the forefront of popular culture with everyone who’s “anyone” digging in and getting dirty to grow their own fruits, vegetables, even making their own compost and choosing to eat at restaurants that feature simple and locally-sourced menus. The Obama’s brought gardening into world-wide headlines and into politics (where it desperately needs to be as we battle seed giants like Monsanto and other corporations with a less than conscious view of food) as Michelle and Sam Kass (White House chef) revived FDR’s Victory Garden.  A few years ago, slow food pioneer Alice Waters convinced the mayor of San Francisco to tear up the lawn in front of city hall and an overwhelming number of Bay City residents turned out to help plant their own Victory Garden.

Gardens are springing up in areas where they haven’t really been seen before- on rooftops, in urban alleys, at schools and universities, growing up the sides of walls, and even in the backs of pickup trucks (check out the very cool Truck Farm).

With this gardening comes amazing food and with that food comes just as amazing waste that is easily turned into compost.  The cycle is completed with that compost becoming food once more and so it goes in the most beautiful, sustainable and beneficial journey from earth to plate.

Gardening, real food, whole and fresh ingredients, keeping worms in your apartment to turn waste into rich soil. . . All of this is suddenly not just for the rural, Mother Earth News reading hippies (Speaking of which, have you looked at Mother Earth News? My parents had the entire encyclopedia and I spent a large part of my childhood poring over the volumes and trying just about everything in them, I highly recommend seeking them out, both old and current volumes).  These things are now seen as incredibly hip and cool (check out Farmer D and the list of40 Farmers Under 40 for example) and I, for one, am completely psyched. Anything that gets people’s hands (and especially kids) into the dirt, putting them in direct contact with their food, while teaching them how to care for their own bodies and health, as well as our planet, is amazing. I firmly believe the greatest gift we can give to our children is the opportunity to connect with a garden of some kind (even if it’s some potted herbs or jars of sprouts in a city apartment) and all the lessons and values that come along with it.

When my own vermiculture bin is full (during the summer months when I’m stuffing myself gloriously on the fresh vegetables, melons, and herbs coming out of our ears, the worms are a bit overloaded and have trouble keeping up with my scraps!!), I bring my bags of compost (stored in the freezer to keep it running more energy efficiently and from attracting fruit flies) to friends who are outside the city, or farmers as they’re packing up for the afternoon at the end of the weekly market; my friends Dan and Ginger happily schlep it back to add it to their piles.  Sometimes I want to climb in the truck with the compost and go back “home” where there are rolling fields and falling down barns; my first jobs were working on organic farms near my house growing up, and I loved packing up the truck after a before-dawn harvest and driving into the city to feed the busy rush of urbanites clamoring for fresh off the farm produce, feeling like the happiest girl in the world leaving after a busy morning with smiling people, dirt under my fingernails and a wooden box full of my own personal gold.

And that’s exactly what it is: our own personal cache of gold.  What treasure could possibly top armloads of jewel colored beets, leafy greens (as a little girl thinking dreamily about a wedding someday, guess what I pictured as wedding bouquets? Ruffled lettuce heads and tall spires of swiss chard!), cream-colored turnips, purple and yellow carrots, sweet smelling dill, unusually huge bunches of basil, and the ugliest/most beautiful heirloom tomatoes ever. . .

We brush the dirt off, crunch, and are healed with the energy of the earth, air, sunlight and water.  We are connected.  And when we share with others, compost the scraps and plant more seeds, we complete that essential circle and connect with the entire universe.

There is no greater gift than that of soil, seed and the space to grow, and I encourage everyone, in whatever way works for your lifestyle, to give yourself and those around you that gift.

 

Seen previously at Loving Raw. . . the new Rockstar Community. . .

What’s Your Impact?

No Impact Man: The Adventures of a Guilty Liberal Who Attempts to Save the Planet and the Discoveries He Makes About Himself and Our Way of Life in the Process

By Colin Beavan

Long title, big experiment- and this point is debatable-HUGE impact.  Despite the flurry of notice during the actual No Impact year in 2006 and the buzz that’s occured since announcement of a September 1st release of a book and film, fans and critics alike have a lot to say about Colin Beavan aka No Impact Man.  The New York Times, radio DJs, television hosts, authors and guests on his widely read blog; seemingly everyone in the world has an opinion about the year long project in which a Manhattan family, or as Colin likes to call them, 10 legs and a tail (wife Michelle, toddler Isabella and dog Frankie), went to extremes to live without making a carbon impact on the planet and therefore taking an individual stand in the battle against global warming.

The question seems to be, can one person (or family) really make a difference? The question that’s also flying around on the heels of this whole project is was it all just a big eco publicity stunt?

For those who may be in the latter group, picking up the book is highly recommended but I will say that no matter what conclusions you come to, it’s an entirely eye-opening, surprisingly funny, and completely charming journey you’ll take along with the Beavan family, who by no means pretend to be eco-saints or to have all the answers even after completing their year-long experiment, in which they attempted to create zero trash (no take out food, wrapped purchases, coffee cups, receipts), create zero carbon emissions (no transportation other than human powered, only local food), and live without adding any toxins (laundry detergent) or strain on the environment in any way (no electricity, toilet paper). . .all while living on the 9th floor of an apartment building in Manhattan.

For all those critics who seem to think that Beavan is promoting himself as a martyr, or simply in it for the green publicity, or for anyone who can’t stop harping on the fact that they didn’t use toilet paper, all I can say is these naysayers obviously didn’t read the book carefully and/or missed the entire point.  Beavan makes absolutely no pretenses of his doubt, struggles, “failures” and the questions that still linger about individuals being able to make a difference in our crisis of global warming. As his friend Graham Hill from TreeHugger.com said “A crisis is a terrible thing to waste”, and I think the important point is that Beavan and his family (that were sort of dragged along for the ride), took the opportunity to do everything they could not to waste it.

Marion Nestle, author of What to Eat seems to think that the question of whether or not a single family can change the world is answered, saying the book “is a deeply honest and riveting account of the year in which Colin Beavan and his family attempted to do what most of us would consider impossible.  What might seem inconvenient to the point of absurdity instead teaches lessons that all of us need to learn.  We as individuals can take action to address important social problems.  One person can make a difference.”

Another important point of the book, and the premise that The No Impact Project, his newly formed non-profit, is based on launches a world-wide experience to coincide with Beavan’s fall publicity tour for the No Impact book (September 1st, Farrar, Straus and Giroux) and film, is that while making less of an impact on the planet, we simultaneously begin to live better lives.  Imagine that.  While living more simply, we actually live more happily.

In the No Impact Project experience, people everywhere will have the opportunity to take on an abbreviated 1-3 weeks based on Colin’s No Impact Year, using an entirely volunteer written How-To-Guide, a short informational film and of course the resources of Beavan’s blog (noimpactman.org) and his book.  For those doing the 1 week trial, it begins with Trash on Monday and then goes through the week, each day highlighting a particular area that Colin and his family focused on, finishing with an Eco-Sabbath on Sunday. There will be many interactive features as entire families, communities and groups take part in working to lessen their overall carbon footprint. . .what was that about one person not making a difference again?

Colin wonders in his book if “our lack of social connection and community is at the root of our environmental problem. Without real community, where is the visceral sense of connection to something larger, to something to which I owe my care? Maybe one reason I felt like I couldn’t make a difference when the project started was because I wasn’t firmly connected to anything to which I could make a difference.”

The whole project beginning this month seems to be a pretty good step towards changing that.

Despite what the critics might say, the No Impact year and the Beavan family aren’t perfect and they’re the first to admit it. When transitioning into eating only local food (the best choice for non-impact living) and are asked to dinner by friends, they don’t wave their fingers “and say, “Oh no, we’re environmentalists.” [They] go and have fun.”

He admits that they flounder, and are far from perfect, Michelle can’t make it without coffee from tropical climates, and Colin takes a train to visit a farmer upstate, but the point is that we can all choose how we live.

For the sake of the planet, Beavan suggests that “we need to find a good life that does not depend on so much energy and material. . .where we choose instead of inherit, where we stride purposefully instead of sleepwalk.  Where we are true masters of our destiny.”

To which I ask, for the sake of the planet, or for the sake of all humankind?

End of summer. . .

. . .and what I love recently, otherwise known as lazygirl’s posting. . .but spurred by the recent visits from a few that I used to chat with and have since lost touch with (as life sort of gets in the way sometimes). . .i’m going to add the words of others for now while I’m in the midst of projects and chaotic work.

It will settle and when it does. . .i’ll aspire to be a bit more glasspetalsmoke-ish. . .

So what I love:

yesterday’s sample sale at Rogues Gallery.  yum.  i now have several hundred dollars worth of locally designed and crafted one-of-a-kind pieces for mere pocket change.  including the heavy hoodie on the bottom left, that already feels like it’s been soaked in salt water (which everything of mine eventually becomes anyhow), eclectic and oversized t-shirts, men’s button downs that are delightfully rumpled and carelessly elegant in that sexy morning after look, an anchor belt that looks preppy at first glance but is decidedly not.  I even found a present for my darling brother, he looks so handsome in dark collared shirts and I miss not living near him (or do I mostly miss the motorcycle and watching sunsets from the back of it as we fly down farm roads?)

I also love this blog: the writing, the recipes, the photos, and really really really want to eat here at The HerbFarm.  But the Atlantic has other draws and I’ll be perfectly happy with those while reading about the ones on the opposite coast. I’m completely about 100 mile eating, have always wanted goats (see below), have even been eschewing tropical fruits (a far cry from my several years as basically a fruitarian!!) and have been petitioning my mum to spend a few days canning and preserving with me like I remember doing year after year at summer’s end when my hair was long and in two braids. . .

Now I’m just drooling over the thought of goat cheese stuffed into squash blossoms, mussel stew, corn spoonbread. . .and truffles dug up by a rescued pound dog.  “(The truffles had been hunted by a local chihuahua, who was a dog rescued from the pound. Her new owner noticed the dog digging in the garden and went to look. Truffles. She showed up at the Herbfarm one day and offered to sell them, since she couldn’t eat them all.)”

Again. . . yum.

My new favourite local place that I haunt is here

. . .and my new favourite local place that I have yet to visit, but am finger-tappingly looking forward to the upcoming workshops. . .  I always wanted goats.  I still do.  I satisfy myself with the raw local goat’s milk that I then turn into my own yogurt and kefir, flavoring with local honey or maple syrup. . .the word of this post is YUM.

They tie together perfectly because Rabelais is where I plan to march myself all the way across town to buy the book(but in this beautiful fall air, who can resist spending all their time outside?!)  then curling up somewhere along Commercial Street by the ferries coming and going to devour the pages. . .

there are really a hundred thousand more things that I love right now. . .a holga camera, salvaged wood frames for my photographs, the way the sunlight comes into my working corners in brick-walled coffeeshops (my office), eating huge and beautifully ugly heirloom tomatoes and boxes of sungolds until I feel like I’m going to burst but it’s okay because the season is fleeting, we have to grab them while they’re here because I won’t touch a California flown/trucked in “tomato” come winter. . .

but I’ll leave the list teasingly succinct for now. . . and let you springboard to what you’re loving now. . . and keep some of the perfect mysteries just for me.

The ingredients. . .

I went to the farmer’s market in Monument Square in Portland Maine four times today.  Vendors are teeming the square from 9 to 2 and I managed walk by all of them almost every hour. It wasn’t hard to find excuses to pass through (and subsequently fill my sailcloth bag full) the bustling crowd and feast for the senses, and the vendors definitely started to smile in recognition as I wandered. . .

New potatoes, bunches of crunchy white turnips, red onions and fragrant dill for a German potato salad, ears of corn piled high that would create appetizer sized corncakes for Friday’s dinner with friends, to be topped with freshly made salsa from huge and beautifully disfigured heirloom tomatoes, huge white onions, and the most spicy smelling bouquets of cilantro that filled my nose.  Everything filled my nose in the most intermingling and sensual way ever.  The freshly cut flowers were no more pretty than the bouquets of kale, multi-colored and candy-like carrots, baskets of blueberries and heads of purple, green and oblong Napa cabbage.

Among the screen-printed t-shirts, vintage looking created-while-you-wait tin photos, I found buried treasure in the very center of the throngs, gluten free brownies, roughly packaged, with hardened pan-edges (which have always been my favorite pieces!), made by special needs kids that were the honestly the best I’d ever had.  I have to avoid wheat and these were an incredible melty, chocolately mouthful. They had vegan and regular cookies as well, something for everyone, with simple hand-written ingredient index cards on the table and I actually went back for a second one to take on my afternoon travels to a friend’s lakeside camp, two hours out of the city.  They all chorused loudly “thank you” and my corn spilled from the bag as I tried to fit one more thing in.  I’m actually a little glad that they don’t go to the Deering Oaks Saturday market because I don’t think I have the willpower to keep them for an occasional treat.

There was music, homemade gelato, open doors to the nearby restaurants, galleries and public market, and everyone’s arms, bags and boxes were brimming with their caches of fresh off the farm bounty.  I never see one frown on a face there, and it’s a mix of every possible segment of Portland’s community, co-mingling and sharing in the abundant nourishment of our country’s lifeblood, farms.

I read this somewhere: “If you’ve got all the good ingredients and if you do things at the right time, a dish will come together at the end.  So it is with gardening, where you prepare the soil right, you make sure there’s plenty of compost, you look after your plant and take the weeds out.  It’s pretty simple, really.  It’s just about creating the right environment for it to thrive.”  Rodney Dunn of the Agrarian Kitchen

I feel the same about Portland and it’s support of the twice a week farmer’s markets. . .it’s always a blissful Wednesday and Saturday here.

Listen. . .

Hope in the callused hands. . .

from President Elect Barack Obama on November 4th, 2008. . .

“The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year, or even one term, but America — I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there. I promise you: We as a people will get there.

There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who won’t agree with every decision or policy I make as president, and we know that government can’t solve every problem. But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And, above all, I will ask you join in the work of remaking this nation the only way it’s been done in America for 221 years — block by block, brick by brick, callused hand by callused hand.

What began 21 months ago in the depths of winter must not end on this autumn night. This victory alone is not the change we seek — it is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were. It cannot happen without you.

So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism; of service and responsibility where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves, but each other. Let us remember that if this financial crisis taught us anything, it’s that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers. In this country, we rise or fall as one nation — as one people.”

 

In my entire life, I have never felt patriotism or allegiance to any political party, president or person in any office.  In part from my generational characteristics and in part because of disillusionment and distrust, seeing over and over the abuse of power, the way money and greed and personal ambition drives so many of our politicians and world leaders.  Even now, I do not put all of my blind faithin one man. . . but I trust the calm presence in his demeanor and in his words.  I have full faith in his ability to inspire every one of us to initiate change- which is what creates nation and worldwide change after all- not one person sitting in the Oval Office.  I believe in the power of the people, not just of America, but of the world.  I believe in the change that has begun, the shift in consciousness and I believe that Barack Obamais a part of that sweeping change, someone who can succinctly put into words what needs to be accomplished, someone who can use his strength and resources as catalysts, and someone who can be the leader so many of us have never seen. 

The Obama family is not an oil family.  They know what it means to work.  They know what it means to feel the differences and simultaneously the similarities in all of us.  This I believe in. 

I believe in the peace I felt when waking up this morning, November 5th, and the very real shift that had occured energetically throughout our spinning sphere of precious materials- our home that is in grave danger and yet full of magical power and hope.  We belong to the earth, it’s where we came from and where we will all return to. . . and I believe that our future is no longer in the hands of anyone but each and every single one of us. 

I believe in the way this peace has been simmering inside me and propelled me to act upon things in my own small corner of the world. . . because in changing my life, the world is changed as well.  A tapestry is made of millions of tiny threads. . . light and dark, thick and thin, and I’m doing my part “holding together my corner of the warp and woof of space and time” which, as Stephen Cope says “requires courage tenacity and heart”.  -Stephen Cope

In local changes, the question one tax was repealed and while this disappointed me greatly as Mainers overwhelmingly allowed themselves to be purchased by the highest bidder (in this case Pepsi and Coca-Cola) without regard for taking care of everyone,  I’m reminded of a quote “Health care comes from Self Care”. . . and therefore am choosing to focus my pathin that direction, offering my time and resources and a large part of my energy to pursuing the connections between mind, body and energy, along with everything encompassed by them.  In doing so, I am part of the change and rather than waste time lamenting what is now the past, we can move towards the future, keeping up with that inspiring swirl of energy, every one of us using our own callused hands to further the change. 

Yes, we can.

The Pendulum

 

 

Not to be confused with the very dramatic and dark writings of Edgar Allen Poe- although those dark musings and references to wine, black birds and touches of madness have always been mysteriously alluring. . especially when I’m listening to Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds  (perfect complement to the intense lyrics and piano of No More Shall We Part) . . . this pendulum is a tool that I use often and feel rather than physically hold.

 

The pendulum swings in my own life- as a method of decision making and listening to what my intuition has to say.  I’m not the best at hearing (or rather really listening to) those voices from deep inside. . . even though I can go on and on about the importance of listening to your “gut” until I’m cerulean in the face.  Laziness, lack of time and motivation, or simply fear of really looking inside and hearing the answers??  Pushing responsibility for my life in any direction other than back to me?? 

Either way it happens, I find myself in turmoil of the emotional sort rather than caught up in “human drama” as a friend of mine so wonderfully put it. . . mine is also more of the solitary inner drama.  It can remain something I struggle with alone, or it can begin to affect others when I lash out in frustration and a bit of self-loathing (due to the frustration of perceived inability to make the aforementioned decisions). . . and so it becomes confusing to those around me- this peaceful and mellow girl suddently turns snappy and edgey. . . impatient and cutting with her words- when really it’s just the frustration and maybe a bit of panic turned outward because I’ve refused to give it a healthy outlet. 

 

But this tool. . . using your body as a pendulum for making decisions and listening to what is truly in accordance with our inner self. . . is something I’ve been returning to as of late.  It can be used for something as seemingly simple as walking through the market and wondering what foods might be the best to consume right now- if I center and ask, my body tells me (if someone’s with you, the muscle test works well) by moving in the direction I know means yes or no.  Or I use it for what I might call major life decisions, silly little thoughts about what I might do today and even a clue to what role people who have entered my life might have.  

 

It works in the morning when you’re making lists (one of my addictions, and as I’ve recently twittered-YES, I’m addicted to addictions!), when shopping, planning, working, beginning to prepare a meal, before making a phone call; anything that may be causing stress or frustration due to the perceived inability to make a decision.  We often seem to want to throw our hands up, push the decision entirely off on others, releasing our sense of responsibility for whatever happens (good or bad) and thinking it would just be so much easier if someone else would simply tell us what to do.  I feel this wholeheartedly about many things in my life, and yet I’m also one of the most stubborn people I know and detest being told what to do (is it any wonder people tend to become a bit confused around me?!) so needless to say, this creates quite a lot of the back and forth drama- enough to drive a girl crazy.

 

Here’s what I do: I check in once in awhile to make sure the way my body communicates hasn’t changed but basically- by taking a breath to quickly center, and asking “Is my name Jenny?”. . . my body will move in a direction for yes.  I ask a question for which I know the answer is no- inserting someone else’s name for instance and my body will move in the opposite direction and from there I can ask any yes or no question. . . taking a few breaths and shaking my energy out to center between each one.  I’ve read that a lot of people rock forward for yes and backward for no, but of course I’m the opposite (it’s an admitted character trait of mine- good or bad- to always be different). . . a yes answer means my body leans back and a no answer tips me forward.

 

Simple.

 

This isn’t used to avoid the responsibility of making decisions, it’s instead a way of double-checking them, and making sure my choices and activities are aligned with my true self (and also acknowledging that my true self is there and I haven’t forgotten and/or stifled her voice), and it takes away some of the stress that comes with making those decisions- “did i do the right thing?”, etc.  Often there is no black and white definite RIGHT or WRONG decision. . . so the simple act of making that choice is the “right” decision in itself.  You choose and accept and then move on. . . life is not meant to be put on hold while we hem and haw over these questions.  There are no wrong choices.  They’re all a part of our journey and I think how we react to them builds more of our life than the actual end result. 

Just now, I heard loud honking and looking out the window of this late September morning, a flock of geese flew overhead and I realized that like the inner compass within every goose, there is a similar intuitive and instinctual quality to our decision making, if we learn to simply get out of our own ways and listen to that ancient wisdom. 

This morning I’m sure there are pressing decisions to be made and I’ll get to them. . . but for now I’m craving mulberries for breakfast (another one of my addictions lately). . . but feel like I may be eating too many of them. . . Center, ask, and my body rocks slightly backwards. . . I grin and decide that a small handful would be entirely perfect. 

 

And so it is. . .

Time for Trees. . .

A friend request on Facebook led to this discovery and not only is he soulful, beautiful and authentic. . . the lyrics are poetically & perfectly synched with my life/thoughts/hemming these days. . . so thank you Saith (although it just added yet another reason why I’m sorry to not be heading to Sedona with everyone!). . .