2023 has been a lesson of extremes: this picture and this video were taken on the same day
The day we left the hospital without Iona and dipped back into being present parents with Bea was the day I started this great balancing act
Such pride and sorrow
Such pain and joy
Such heartbreakings and heartopenings
The lessons of life and death-- what we're all doing here and how we come in-- have been ever present
Iona's spirit has not left me since she died and that is truly a mindfuck
How can she be dead when she is still so present? She is literally standing to my left side as I type this, like a watchful guardian
I am flanked by the strength and curiosity that is Bea and the deep wisdom and calm that is Iona
My two daughters, both so alive and emanating so much love
I have much more to say about all of this-- including the newest chapter of life we've found ourselves navigating-- but I wanted to remind everyone to not close yourself off to the mystery of things you can't explain
There is so much magic in those moments and in those spaces
As a kid, my mom used to tell me that her grandfather would sit on the edge of her bed at night after he passed. I would ask how she knew it was him. She would always say it felt like him and she just knew. It really is that simple. That instinctual
Embrace the things that bring you comfort and trust the messages your ancestors are sending you. Who among us truly knows what goes on behind the scenes 🤷♀️ we're all speculating and trying to cope with death and make sense of this whole thing
We are not alone and we are undying and that is the most freeing feeling of them all
We're just walking each other home whether it's on this side or the other
deepest roots
something in me has burst open
absolutely irreversible, wide fucking open
there is a sacredness to death that has carved new pathways in my heart and mind, forever changing how I relate to life
the pain and the beauty always exist side by side
when pushed to the brink we see the true heart and humanity of all people
my heart has only been in Palestine and with my family these last weeks
my deepest roots are in Palestine, Lebanon, and Syria-- both blood and incarnations
something wild has been unchained in me seeing what has been shown
all the memories are flooding back of lifetimes in this area-- lifetimes of persecution, deep faith, love, magic, miracles, and stripped down power
I don't talk much about what I know of past lives, but I imagine I'm not the only one working through the deepest pain right now
a pain that's in your bones and its' vastness unexplainable
all I have to say is let it liberate you
let it open you up
the blessings that come alongside the hurt will bring you closer to yourself
closer to your heart and your purpose
Bea wanted to feed this tulip rainwater yesterday and I couldn't help but reflect
I know what it's like to hold my dead children, I know that wailing and gnawing pain, I know the only salve is God and community and love
so, seeing my daughter take care of something so tenderly, broke me
the prayer I have running in the background of my days is for the children
to whom we're all responsible in caring for and showing a better world
tender flowers in our hands
flow exchange
In meditation last week, a table appeared to me
I was sitting behind it
It's edges expanded beyond my fingertips, it's sides blasted out toward the infinite
The table became a space of transactions
I could feel the flow of exchange was off
Too much giving from my side of the table, not enough external receiving
I saw glimpses of things I give away
My time, my energy, my integrity, my power, my boundaries, my voice
I even saw myself giving up my babies-- placing them on the table and returning them back to the infinite
Following the programming like a good girl
In that moment I heard the lesson that framed this thinking: "giving gives purpose, receiving is selfish"
After the session it really hit me-- what a sacrifice to live in the space of constant giving
It felt like prostration-- a personal whipping-- like living on my knees all of the time
It's been my default for so long that I don't even know if it's truly me or if it's cultural/religious/familial doctrine handed down as righteousness
I couldn't help but think about how many of us are living in and with this deficit
All the ways it effects how we take care of ourselves, what we ask for, how much we work, how we parent, how we love, how we breathe
Anyway, it was nice to be in a nonverbal space to visualize the problem within myself
Gave me the ability to be creative about the solution and to not so judgemental about where this all originates
Feels like I need to bring in a more holistic energy pattern-- focusing on giving consciously and allowing myself to open enough to receive MORE to balance everything out
I think I'm gonna be a little selfish for a change 🤷♀️ and not share this chocolate with anyone
daydream
In my daydream practice, I just keep coming back here for moments of remembrance and grounding. The manatee, the kingfishers, the gators, the gar, the Cooper’s hawks— all the creatures great and small, calling this section of the St John’s River home
Cracks in the bedrock allow spring water to rise through the aquifer to birth this place. Over one million gallons flow through here each day and give refuge to these animals. This is where the manatees come to play each winter. It’s a place that is special to me and being able to canoe the river this year felt like a spirit journey in itself
I’m distilling some of the ideas that come through during this floating practice. I’ve been meditating on the truth behind them. Like “cracks in the foundation spring forth new life”
I’m struggling to make a major shift with our business and my time. Like all of us, I’m working non-stop and exhausted and getting burned out. But more importantly, I would like to move into offering my healing work to the collective and there are a lot of things in my way. The mud is very sticky right now
I’ve been thinking that these breaking points are actually the moments that inspire a new path forward. When we’re pressed against a wall and trying to figure out the next step— sometimes it’s just trusting that any step is the right one, even if it’s a misstep
So sharing this little moment of peace on the St John’s is a bit of that for me, right now. I hope that in the midst of whatever you’re struggling with you can remember: we’re all there
Sometimes the cracks in the foundation is the exact thing to spring forth new possibilities. Maybe embrace the break down and get ready for what comes next
yes, florida again
This is the entire Happy Belly crew 😎
I grew up in a family with farming roots-- growing orchards and raising/butchering animals. Each side bringing over their skills from Italy and Sicily to make a life
I started working Green Markets in NYC when I was 14. The vibrancy of those farmers markets changed everything for me and became a crash course in entrepreneurship
There was something radical about vending on the street in the middle of such a commercialized space that really stuck with me. It was the old world in the new world
Hundreds of family-run businesses bypassing manicured storefronts and THRIVING. Tents, tables, wares-- simple as that. Hard, fulfilling, and honest work
I have been in business for 11 years this September. I knew from the beginning that I wanted Happy Belly to be farmers market focused
The cyclical nature of it gives us an opportunity to reassess each year. To reflect on what's working and shift the things that aren't. To keep it malleable and manageable for OUR family. A bakery operating like a farm
One question always comes first: what kind of life do we want? Everything else builds off of that (and our trust in God)
If you think we have a team creating our baked goods, we don't. It's me 👋 not out of ego, but practicalilty. As radical as it is, we want this small
We're constantly being confronted with how much and in what ways we want Happy Belly to grow
And, to be perfectly honest, we want to live a life and not have the pressures/demands/requests of the business consume everything (because it can!)
It's a constant balancing act, but as natural as taking a breath
I just keep using my ancestors as models. Keep it small, keep it in the family, keep focusing on quality, keep putting your heart in 🤷♀️
Anyway here are some family pictures from the LaPomas and Trapanis
us canoeing at Blue Springs in FL
my great grandfather butchering a hog (mother's side)
same great grandfather's parents at the farm
passport from my great grandfather (dad's side) detailing his status as contadino or farmer
same great grandfather's wedding picture
baby Monica living on the farm with my grandparents ❤ which is now on it's 4th generation
saint monica
When we were here in January, I lit this exact candle for Iona-- second row from the bottom, second candle from the right, at the foot of St Monica
I lit this and said a prayer to St Monica to have Iona come through alive
I remember thinking 3 things in that exact moment (if my wish was not granted):
1. I will completely lose faith in God if she dies
2. God is not that cruel
3. Most babies survive, so will Iona
I lit the same candle today, said thanks to Iona, and dipped back into those feelings. I really don't know the person who thought those things. It's wild
Every assumption I had about losing a second child was put to rest the minute it happened. I was astonished
I didn't lose faith in God. My faith got stronger
I didn't feel like God was cruel. I felt like God and Iona were holding us in loving arms-- inviting us to walk into a weightless, protected, unencumbered joy. Something I've never felt before
MOST babies do survive, but it was made clear to me that every single child has their own way of coming into this world-- their own destiny. And SOMETIMES that means coming into it dead instead of alive
And there's POWER in that
It flips everything we expect on its head, in a way that breaks us open. Broken open just enough to let something else in. And, for me, that was a peace that I didn't have after Callum died
I didn't know how much resentment was in my heart until Iona died. The weight I carried from Callum's death didn't leave me until she took it with her. And without it, I felt like I could see for the first time
I labored on my knees with Iona, next to Callum's altar. I allowed myself to release so much in those waves. Screaming that I hated him for making this my experience of motherhood. How it shadowed everything in my life-- "mother with dead baby" felt like it hung on me. All in prayer between a couple oat bags, his ashes, and a painting of HIS patron saint (St Columba) because that's where labor dropped me
I think a lot of good was done that day-- completing the circle + agreement created by me, Callum, and Iona
She died a couple hours after and a new life was born for all of us
Magical how this whole experience has unfolded ❤
really real
biggest lesson I've learned since Iona?
death isn't really real
it is, in a sense 🤷♀️
the physical form that carries the soul and spirit leaves this reality, yes
but to think there is actual separation and a definite end is just not true
at least for me, at least right now
this idea has been a travel partner throughout my lifetime, but it was made so clear when Iona "died"
as a mother you carry another body and soul inside you
you can get quiet enough to feel the energetics of that "baby" as wholy distinct from your own
once Iona died, her energy signature just became externalized and she hasn't left me since
I felt her inside and now she's to the left of me as I type this
it's really brought into focus what "life" "death" "body" "soul" "spirit" "reality" "afterlife" all are-- now that I have a new experience forming a new language
if she is beside me everyday how could I grieve in the normal way?
to be honest, I haven't
I'm being asked for something more-- something imbued with grace and ease and love that is undying
and it's uncomfortable as hell
I keep trying to turn over the old rocks I know so well and each time I see the terrain is off limits
Universe steps in kindly to remind me with a wagging finger: "sorry and no"
so even though her body is gone, even though I can't hold her, even though I can't mother her, it doesn't feel like a loss
because we've grown closer since she's "died"
she's become a guide, she's been there for me when I've asked her to, she's shared information with me that a body and age would have limited
wild wild times, but I took this picture and thought about this exact experience
life is everywhere, even where you don't expect it
step back, don't question the things that feel right, remember you're more than right now, and enjoy enjoying the view
from one hand to another
I had a dream about my dad the other night
I was left with a handful of berries that he passed along to me. Teeny tiny berries, like the microsegments of raspberries
He let them pass between our hands and made sure to tend carefully to them so they didn't fall out of mine
I could feel how much my heart and body missed him, something I haven't felt with that purity in a very long time
In the dream I told my mother that I was scared because I didn't have much time left with him and that my memories were fading
She told me I was wrong. Wrong because he is woven into me. My existence is his legacy
When I woke up from the dream I wrote:
"We don't come out of life without being touched by death. In those moments that we're pushed to our breaking point-- the ones where we can't breathe because of the pain of loss-- we are forced to make a choice. The choice of building a life after or not. Everything that comes next is collaborative legacy. Theirs and ours."
This dream helped me see in a different way that I'm an expression of those who came before me. In genes, in story, and in spirit. Little treasures being passed down through some great expanse
We tend to turn away from the gifts that death brings, which makes understanding death really difficult
I'm starting to see that the life we weave together after our people are gone is a reflection of them and a moment of power
All the shifts and reorganizations that happen are because of them-- the precipice of it all. We become who we are because of who they were in life and how much the pain of their death has transformed us
Even in death our relationship still continues
Whether it's unraveling and replaying of our past together or simply having dreams. We can stay close
I'm seeing the magic that's woven between all of us through time and space. The separation seems like an illusion. We feel eternal
We have life and then we have death-- that's the obvious story, but there seems to be so much more happening in the quiet background of our experience
And that quiet background is where I'm playing right now
Trying to make sense of the fruits that get passed down from one hand to another 🤲
happy death day to callum
Happy Death Day: today marks 6 years since Callum died. I have been transformed over the past couple months since losing Iona
I'm being asked to allow everything to wash away, including grieving. Being reminded to baptize myself in the holiest of waters and not question the joy
A year before I got pregnant with Callum I took a pilgrimage to Scotland. I followed the standing stones and potent portals that dot the land of my ancestors in blood and spirit
This trip was an initiation. Testing me to see if I was ready for all that was to come
I remember one night-- inky black and sticky from rain-- I sat at the edge of Loch Linnie with the Glencoe range to my back
In meditation I awoke to a fox and a witch in a tree playing in the shadows
They spoke to me about the next chapter. They asked if I was ready to step forward. If my heart was prepared for the warriors path
I wept. I said I was ready. I asked for them to guide me. I didn't know what was coming but I knew it was big
Shortly after that night I found my way to the Isle of Iona. The bluest sea surrounding the sweetest land. This was the holiest place I have ever been too
I took a walk late one night and the sky and stars felt so low it was like walking in heaven. Fingers dipping in the Milky Way, so effortless
Little did I know the spiritual history of Iona
I got pregnant with Callum in Scotland the following year. Brandon and I went to explore, fall in love, and make a baby
When searching for a name, I asked my ancestors to bring one. I had a dream, and in complete darkness, I heard "Callie" being called into existence. I knew Callum was his name
After he died and I started searching for answers, I found that Callum came from St Columba
St Columba was exiled from Ireland and made his way through the sea to new land. He landed on Iona and brought Christianity to Scotland by way of the abbey that was founded there
Iona became a pillar of teaching and a beacon for Christ
A place of refuge
A place of faith
A place of peace
My two children, Callum and Iona, are linked to this Isle. The philosopher monk, the bluest sea, and the consecrated ground
Two flames, burning in love, for eternity 🤍💙
divine love reiki
Had a Divine Love Reiki session with one of my teachers last night and had this come to me:
Pain is a choice
Joy is a choice
I know the path of pain well
The path of joy is uncomfortable
I'm used to hitting a wall
Now I'm in a meadow
And I have no fucking clue what to do here
A deer waiting for an ambush
Not remembering it's resting in and protected by the hands of God
💖
two hearts
two hearts: one material and one ethereal
a rice grain and juice drippings from my kim chee handroll spoke to me yesterday
so sweetly-- on Mother's Day-- this is the gift I receive from the great beyond
one heart on this side
one heart on that side
and so very little separating us
still so close I can feel her every minute of every day
she's just on the other side
I just have to quiet myself enough to remember that and then reach out
it's funny how a tiny section of a plate can tell a whole story
something so stupid and insignificant can communicate something so profound about life and death, and the space in-between the here and there
I'm sure people think this kind of sign-reading is batshit, but I don't care anymore about hiding who I am and where life is bringing me
I started sharing the weirder parts of my belief system with people since Iona's death
and, instead of what I thought would happen, they're all reflecting back to me points of sanity
we look for meaning in the nothing-moments of life
we hope and pray to see signs from, have dreams about, or sense our ancestors
some of us second guess that gut-punch when it happens
the logical mind takes over and convinces us "it's just rice, it's just juice"
but our souls and hearts are calling for something else
given what I've been through I'm choosing that story over another because I'm choosing to keep us close
any other story is one of separation and it's way too hard to cope
I think they are with us, they want to speak to us, they love us, and they are right by our side more than we are able to remember
and maybe the answers that are hardest to wrap our minds around are the ones that will actually set us free 🤷♀️
sooooo fuck logic
I'm going to let my heart be wild for a while
iona sain
Fellowship of the Broken: Iona Sain died and was born on Saturday, April 1st
We're in shock this happened after another vibrant pregnancy, while in the midst of labor
We're left again with absolutely no answers
With every birth professional again reminding us that the likelihood of a concrete explanation is slim-- cord and placenta pathology comes back with an answer maybe 30% of the time and an autopsy comes back 15% of the time
This is just something that happens
Every person who has helped us since Friday has said their knowledge about stillbirth only goes so far-- most of the time they are unexplained acts of God
We've walked this path of Great Mystery since losing Callum, but having Iona die feels like territory uncharted
We know the map of grief but to have to face this again is unimaginable. We'll have to walk slowly and purpose-fully each day
A chaplain came to speak with us. He and his wife lost a child too
He said even though there is no way to truly understand someone's experience, we remain united and bonded in our losses
We touch humanity through our grief
We've been forged by the fires of great loss and this is what the fellowship of the broken looks like
It takes the wounded healers among us-- the ones to bear the unbearable-- to bring through the greater purposes of life
All of the WHYS and HOWS don't seem to matter as much when you're dealing with the starkness of death
Having answers doesn't change things much because we're looking for a heart healing only faith can bring
I'm very appreciative that we lost Callum and have Bea to get us through this major transition without our daughter Iona
Thank you to everyone who has been praying for our family during the pregnancy
The community we have built around us through family, friendships, our business, and the farmers market is so strong
Please don't stop asking how we're doing
We need that normalcy to help put our lives back together and you will help us do it piece by piece
So here's a picture of Iona, some flowers Bea gave her and me, Brandon holding her this morning when saying our goodbyes, and me inspecting her flawless hands and wrinkly feet
We love you all
birth rites and death rites
birth rites and death rites: I had a dream a couple nights ago where I was counseling small groups on death rites
some of their family members were actively dying or had already passed
I was helping them figure out the ceremonies that made sense for the lives they were honoring and for themselves
bringing forth the rituals that spoke to their hearts from the great beyond
we were recovering and unearthing things that have been lost to our people over time
each death brought something missing back to life
before I woke up, I saw myself teaching them the tending of the bodies
how to disrobe the dead, how to wash them, how to shroud them, how to get them ready for the next stage of their journey-- all in reverence and prayer
soul to soul, heart to heart
I only know this from three days of tending Callum's body after he passed (and maybe some other timelines I've dipped into 🙃)
I woke up from this dream so fucking angry and heartbroken
we've outsourced so much of our own autonomy-- including numbing ourselves from many of the rites of passage that precisely MAKE US HUMAN
I couldn't help but feel that this alienation from our own flesh during death is exactly what happens when carrying and birthing our children
we're monitored, doctored, drugged, cut, coached, coerced-- and all for the sake of what?
I can't help but feel that there is something too significant lost when we avoid (or aren't granted) these rites at the major passage points in our lives
like we're only dipping our toes into the biggest moments that are meant to make us who we are-- the ones that really test our grit and move us into new stages of knowing ourselves
instead of trusting the millions of years of evolution that made ALL OF THIS possible, these moments become touchstones where we outsource our care to people we think know better
but what about our own intuition
what about that voice from the great beyond nudging us for more, for different
only so long we can go ignoring the call and divorcing ourselves from our humanity
anyway, here's me and Bea from today at just under 40 weeks 👌❤ and who the hell knows anything 🤷♀️
tether
we're at a sweet precipice right now
navigating the in-between space of spirit and matter
just waiting for baby to come along
I can't help but think about how our family will adjust and absorb and be forever changed
and I'm reflecting on all the blessings Bea has brought to our lives
even in the toughest of times, her light is a guide for my heart
it's really hard to trust and have faith in how life rolls out when you're coming from a place of loss and grieving
no matter how tender I get in this pregnancy I'm reminded that we could lose everything, because we have
but in many ways we've gained so much more than I could have ever imagined precisely because our son died
it's a weird thing to be grateful for the life that we have without him, but the truth is his death led to the lusciousness we're all wandering in now
we met ourselves many many times along the way and with a depth that was unimaginable years ago
his most important work: helping usher in this sweet, wild force that is our daughter
the one who has bravery and voice, kindness and curiosity, silliness and so much tenacity
our son (his spirit manifestation) was by my side early in the pregnancy and is now in deep rest
he made sure I knew this baby is part of him-- like a soul split from him, but not him
this soul is a gift sent to me from the otherside and the vastness of that is humbling
I'm the vessel
and Bea... she is the tether
the one who will be by my side to bring this baby through
like a far-off voice calling down a long channel, reminding the soul on the otherside that love awaits them as long as they're brave enough to journey through
the real work she did bringing me back to life after Callum died she's doing for our family now
it's teaching me a lot
so much in this picture-- the snake, the pinecone, the child in front of the camera, the mother behind the camera, and all the metaphors in-between
luscious life
everything alive all around me
We're within weeks of bringing this baby through and I've been thinking about how the Universe/God steps in sometimes and puts us on totally different paths than we intended
For about a year before this baby came, I had been weighing in my heart whether to welcome in another spirit
I had a miscarriage last March that was intense and I have tons of birth trauma to work through between both Callum and Bea-- even though my heart wanted another one, it felt like a hurdle I could never get over intact
I made the decision last June to move on
We went to Brandon's family cabin in Minnesota a bit earlier than usual, so many of the plants were different
We usually see fields of sage brush, yarrow, + mugwort in the height of July
This time the woods were filled with nettles, columbine, + motherwort
I took this as a sign that my time to bear children was over-- motherwort is called in during major times of transition (maiden to mother, mother to crone) so forest floors covered with it justified the decision
On a late morning walk just before leaving for NY, I vocalized to Brandon that my time having children was ending
I was ready for what was next without the weight of this decision on my shoulders everyday
It felt like a portal I walked through by saying those words and having the forest be my witness
Everything alive all around me and me consciously/ ceremoniously stepping through to the new path
I felt hopeful and content in my decision
Little did I know that a month later I would start feeling familiar signs of BABY
Not what I expected, but it's like God heard the song that was in my heart and threw us a curveball
This has been a journey into my faith
A remembering and honoring in the mystery of life
The way things work out are far beyond our control and that's really fucking beautiful
As long as we're willing to step up to the plate with a brave (but shaky) heart, we'll be rewarded with an unimaginable timeline guided by grace
Taking this one day at a time has put the magic in focus-- it's a miracle we're all here
And that our sweet Pisces baby 🤞 was conceived among the protection of the fish, dragonflies + ephemerals of Fairy Lake is the icing
tooth tooth fang
alligator tooth, mako shark tooth, Eastern diamondback rattlesnake fang
I've been reflecting a lot on my place within the natural world
Florida always manages to put those big themes into perspective for me, even moreso now that I'm nearing the end of this pregnancy and entering into the most primal space open to us
To think that nature is anything but complete brutality is foolish
Humans are so removed from its realities
Our version is largely sanitized, edited, filtered
"Nature" is a place where WE go to rest and recover and reflect
At the same time, things are getting killed around us
All creatures are just trying to survive and this is what it takes-- the blood and gore and LIFE of it all
Now stepping toward the birth portal and reflecting on my previous labors, I've been reframing weird things like the gratitude I have for losing Callum
Nature has not course corrected for neonatal loss. It happens all the time-- every single birth runs the risk of death
This is motherhood
There is some weird comfort in knowing that our son dying brings us closer to the natural order of things
Safety IS an illusion
And somehow in the grandness of this I feel held
It's a weird thing to say, I know
But it's much easier than lying to myself and staying bitter about our entrance into parenthood
Feels like I've been battle-tested and scarred and better off because it's REAL
Anyway, Bea grabbed the gator tooth and fang by asking some amazing experts if she could have them and we "found" the shark tooth at the top of Amelia Island
grandmother dream
Had a dream come through while down in FL about birds in the sky. The next day I captured these vultures at Blue Springs while visiting with the manatees
My grandmother and I went out to our pond. The sky was luminous. Sun behind the thick layers of clouds made their outlines glow and hum. Their edges were holographic.
We went to a spot where there was a perfect rectangular break in the clouds-- where you could only see clear blue. There were two sky eagles sitting side by side on a cloud perch, peering down at us.
I could see them but she couldn't. They were talking to both of us but only I could hear. Their words came through their eyes. They told me about a specific story in our family line beginning with her and ending with me.
She turned to me and said that she lost her son at 4 months old. I saw a flash of her mother holding a bloody dead child just about half-way through development. Dirt on top of it, being buried near the flowers.
It was in that moment that I understood our lines crossed. Both mothers of loss.
I saw the path she went down. At a time when there was very little support to process the death of a child, she buried the grief and pain and continuous mourning.
I saw how our collective grief shapes our parenting in similar ways. I'm the light to her dark. I can see in ways that she wasn't able to. I am her eagle eyes.
Eyes that are turned to deep medicine work to help my lineage heal from our heartbreaking losses.
No one really talks about parenting after loss. No one shares how much it shifts and shapes your relationship with living children. No one mentions the resentment or overwhelm or days filled with deep pools of pain.
I think on some level I'm blessed living in a time where I was able to hold my dead son and say goodbye to him on my own time. I've had older women tell me that doctors took their stillborn babies from them thinking it was too much for them to handle because sentiments were different back then.
Always closing our eyes to the truth of life, aren't we?
These sacred scavengers doing the good work of composting death into the richness and substance of life
god body, animal body
god body, animal body: I've been needing deep rest lately. My body seems to be forcefully rejecting anything but quiet and purposefullness
Walking with this type of intention into my 8 month, living with another life inside me, is not how I handled the first two. But I'm stepping into what I'm being asked and know it's an invisible hand guiding me where I need to go
During a recent meditation I had the following phrase come through, on repeat:
"Of me but not mine"
After that meditation I wrote:
"I am a God body
A piece of heaven on earth
All of us are gifts brought down into form
I am an Animal body
Embedded in us is the propensity for life
The creative force that started all things is alive and well
This child is of-me but not me-- mine, but borrowed
Like the placenta
It has two sides-- the maternal and the fetal
The blood from mother and baby lives together in this organ, but never mixes
Like the womb
It encases the baby but is separated from the mother-- a body within a body, baby's first home
Like the labor
We stand at the doorway between the realms-- doing the hardest work imaginable, but also stand aside to let our body do what it's designed to do
Animal body and God body are one
We act as soul shepards in this effortless ferrying from one realm to another-- bringing through a life, physically and spiritually, is activating a divine directive
But it's been so normalized that it seems ordinary
How did this grace evolve?
Wild thoughts during the most primal time"
Anyway, this sweet manatee with the buoy is injured and in recovery. There is a research team tracking it everyday on its travels in to and out of the St. John's River and Blue Springs State Park
The role of the research team felt a little like the ever-watchful and helpful divine-- allowing this manatee to continue along feeding and swimming and healing, but being taken care of by an external force
Just some random thoughts for right now 🤷♀️ still in the in-between gestating phase
