Solstice prayers: we lit the candle, burned some evergreen and sage, talked to Bea about the return of the sun, and listened as she recited a verse about birds and stones and fishes and God
I think Death is a harbinger-- a sign of more to come
An ever-present friend who walks the path beside us from time to time
Until it's our time and then Death becomes the shepard, ushering us to the otherside
When I was younger, and someone we knew died, my family would always say "it happens in threes"
We would just wait... and the superstition mostly held up
One: Brandon's Soo Bahk Do instructor-- a man he's known since the early 2000s-- passed last week. This man has taught a lot of students, his presence was significant within the SBD community. And now the man who awarded Brandon his belts will watch from the otherside as Brandon award belts in the first testing of his own students on Thursday
Two: This cardinal flew into our window and died on impact Monday morning. We tried to have her taxidermied, but for legal reasons they don't work on songbirds. So we saved her for the lighting of the Solstice candle
Three: After a day of thinking about and stepping into the nuances of the birth/death portal (welcome to pregnancy as me!), my mom called to tell me someone who was one of her and aunt's best friends-- someone we spent a lot of time with during my childhood-- was murdered
She had a hard life. She tried her best to be kind and conscious with what she had. She wasn't perfect and hurt people and took many wrong turns, but no one deserves that type of ending. So irrevocable and heartbreaking
After losing most things in a fire, she gifted me with a laughing Buddha at a time when I really needed it. I was 13. She visited my nanny's house for dinner and brought me to her car to gift it. She said it helped her so it would help me. I still have it on our window altar
Anyway, this is what the Solstice time was/is for my people (Scots and Celts). A time when the birth of the sun would bring the souls of those we lost back to the otherside
With the rising and setting, I hope their journey is fruitful and they find stillness in the reunion
Much love to come
mamababy
this kid 🤦♀️😍 I never stop wondering how we got this lucky
I got pregnant with Bea only 4 months after losing Callum. The anxiety was absolutely insane. It broke me many, many times
I remember at my toughest moments-- even before I could feel her moving around-- just talking to her spirit and asking her if she was going to stick around
I always got back a "I'm good, just relax, this IS happening" 👌
Mamababy bond is something otherworldly and never broken (on the other side, in the womb, or in our reality)
I asked my guides to send a song to me so I could sing it to her and to myself
It came early one morning, just out of a dream. It was not what I expected. It was the first song from Cinderella:
"A dream is a wish your heart makes when you're fast asleep
In dreams you will lose your heartache, whatever you wish for you keep
Have faith in your dreams and someday your rainbow will come smiling through
No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true"
It became a mantra throughout her time in my belly. A focus point to remind me to have faith when I was faithless, to have vision for the future when I couldn't see shit, to have hope that my child would eventually come to me alive
Amazing what magic happens when you are desperate and lonely and grieving-- certainly not the lush fertile space you would ever expect
Anyway, here I am with my smiling rainbow face
The one who saved me in the depths of my deepest pain. The one who held my face when I cried today and told me everything is going to be okay. The one who makes up the silliest names for baby #3 (it's strawberry candy head today 🤣). The one who reminds me of the new life we have on the horizon
I couldn't be luckier to have her sweet voice and big heart call me "mommy"
charles manson
Macaroon bar with salted fudge
And some thoughts about Charles Manson 🤣 keeping it reeeeal interesting for those of you who I haven't turned off yet 👌
I've been reading a bit about cult life in the 60s and specifically about Charles Manson's suspiciously advanced techniques to get The Family to be devoted, unquestioning worshippers of the "godly" man himself
It's been teaching me A LOT about my own programming and how easy it is to manipulate people with just a concerted effort and a HUGE charismatic ego
If you don't know (and why would you!), I am a victim of severe brainwashing
One of my mom's long-term partners operated like a Manson
He saved us
He promised us the life that we always wanted. He showed us what it was like to be part of a family which is what we craved for so long
Regardless of having my dad in the picture, my parents divorce left me feeling like I was missing a functional family. My mom was missing the unconditional love in a partner that his man provided
He became our savior
And then something changed
He slowly started prying my mom and I apart. He started feeding us lies. Asking us to question the way we thought/felt about each other
He would alienate her from her friends and our family. He would coax anger out of me and incite arguments
He encouraged all of this to happen behind the scenes, without my mom and I being open about what was going on
I could go into A LOT more, but it was YEARS of this behavior and it took YEARS of separating from my mom and him to see what was ACTUALLY happening
It took her getting pregnant with my brother to extract herself
Taught me to never look for someone else to save me
It saw this scene within the wellness guru community too and I extracted myself
I see this with the c19 campaign and govt rhetoric and I extracted myself
Its hard to not feel like someone else has all the answers, but most people in authority aren't budging and have an agenda to push to keep themselves in power
You only really see this if you've been brainwashed before
Anyway Manson was great at what he did and probably trained by the CIA 🤷♀️ the most horrendous human being of course...but a master at manipulation
gluten free land
Have you heard: "it's not gluten free if it's not safe for Celiacs"?
This is a phrase that has been shared within the Celiac community for years
It cropped up at the same time tons of bakeries started cashing in on the increased demand for gluten free food and subsequently started getting a lot of us sick by making false claims their ignorance/arrogance didn't correct for
It's inevitable that Capitalism produces shiesters
People who are willing to sell products they know are not safe but label it as such (big ag, big pharma included)
Whether it's gluten free grains that have been contaminated by gluten-containing grains-- which can happen growing in the field, during milling when grains are airborne, or during hauling when the trucks aren't cleaned properly between shipments
Or... kitchens that primarily bake/cook with gluten but offer their ridiculous "gluten free options" knowing full well that they cannot guarantee safety for sensitive people (those with allergies or Celiac Disease)
Or... customers who have trained servers/chef/businesses to not take "I need my meal gluten free" seriously because they're eating it as a fad and don't know what they're asking for
Or... "gluten reduced" foods
Or... the lie that fermentation lessens gluten enough that you won't get sick
There are so many and we have experienced them ALL
If "gluten free food" is NOT made in a fully gluten free kitchen it runs the risk of contamination and is therefore NOT GLUTEN FREE
If someone is using gluten free grains but said grains are not CERTIFIED GLUTEN FREE, they are NOT GLUTEN FREE
If you're told that sourdough breads made with rye/barley/spelt/oats is fine because fermentation inactivates the gluten, they are NOT GLUTEN FREE
Please please please, for the sake of people with real issues (allergies, sensitivities, and diseases), stop supporting these businesses
They are learning from our dollars what we're willing to accept, it's muddying the waters, and it makes things harder for people who are desperate to have a safe place to eat
before the frost times
from before the frost times
I've had a tough time connecting with this pregnancy and this baby. I'm a bit ashamed of it. I expected it to not be this way since I'm a parent now and have a healthy, vibrant, living child. But I've found myself navigating this thing with a 🤷♀️ attitude
We all know birthing literally rewires our brains. But after losing a baby at the birth portal... that rewiring is coupled with something else I can't quite name
The openheartedness and joy I remember is not with me. I can feel the boundaries of my heart each day and the walls I put up. I know things will shift and change because they always do but this is wildly uncomfortable
Having compassion for self is the hardest journey
I've been reminding myself that this 🤷♀️ response is a coping mechanism. A way to protect and soften the blow if things go south. It's natural and a biological adaptation in all humans in places of overwhelm
Instead of being in judgement, I'm trying to move towards accepting these feelings (or non-feelings 😆)
Trying to ease myself into the undoing that comes alongside the 🤷♀️. Something I didn't expect to find while moving through this grief/birth spiral. Maybe a rewriting of an old story.
I came across a quote from Terence McKenna that's been on repeat in my head: "Nature loves courage. You make the commitment and nature will respond to that commitment by removing impossible obstacles. Dream the impossible dream and the world will not grind you under, it will lift you up. This is the trick. This is what all these teachers and philosophers who really counted, who really touched the alchemical gold, this is what they understood. This is the shamanic dance in the waterfall. This is how magic is done. By hurling yourself into the abyss and discovering it's a feather bed."
Maybe this is where I'm at. Maybe the 🤷♀️ isn't quite apathy, maybe it's freedom. Maybe it's teaching me to let go and know I'll be taken care of. Maybe it's meant to return me to faith and trust (both I've lost since losing our son)
In the meantime, I'm still whispering sweet things to this baby and myself so we know love in the hard season 💃🌊
emergencies
If fertility is a sign of health, why are pregnancy and labor treated as emergencies?
Why do we fight for choice over our bodies when deciding to keep or terminate a pregnancy, but give up our autonomy while pregnant, in labor, and post-partum?
Why doesn't "my body, my choice" extend to carrying and birthing our babies too?
Why do we think that an OB (or any MD for that matter), who we see for a couple minutes once a month, has better say in the direction of our care than our own intuition and experience of our bodies?
How many different decisions would we have made if we trusted that our bodies were not broken, but godly?
Are we not evolved to do this?
These are some questions that have been rising up while I've been baking-- while my mind is a blank slate and I can think clearly
The answer to many of these questions is fear [maybe our current obsession with pathologizing and outsourcing everything too 🤷♀️]
Aside from sharing about losing Callum at birth and my grief-journey, I don't write much about my pregnancies and labors
I've spent a lot of time thinking that it's not valuable enough to share
I've spent a lot of time in shame-land because I had two "failed" homebirths-- an option people in my life were conditioned to think of as risky
Many hearing my stories would think that going to the hospital SAVED me
But it fucking broke me
Kept me from ever wanting to birth again
My experience was medical abuse and we (me, Brandon, our midwife) had to fight like hell to not have me cut open, like the OB wanted to after I lost Callum (same OB who got to cut me open during my transfer with Bea)
I'm making the decision to claim my birthright with this pregnancy and birth safe, at home
I thought being a good girl and doing what everyone else does (medicalizing pregnancy) would get me the birth I wanted
But making that choice early on actually reunited me with the fire inside my heart-- the fire that made birthing at home feel so right so many years ago
There's a lot to unwind and own up to
I'm glad this baby is taking me on the journey to reclaim pieces of me that we're lost in my birth experiences
Happy Belly means so many things these days
ancestor veneration
ancestor veneration: my mom @lindamariebunt has been doing genealogy work since I can remember
She would take me to cemeteries when I was little where we would search the grounds until we found our people-- maybe do a little grave rubbing if we couldn't read the inscription, talk about how they were related to us, and imagine the time when they lived
Back then she would be in the library basement looking over microfilms to find names and dates. She would ask older family members about stories passed down to find a clue to point her in the right direction toward the next in line
At a certain point she ran into a terminus because there was less and less access to info
Everything changed when things went online
She was able to trace our maternal great grandmother's side back to North Andover in the 1660s. Our family participated in the Salem Witch Trails-- multiple members of the Barker line were accused and confessed to consorting with the devil to avoid being hanged
Last October we decided to visit their burial site and today I went back
There are two babies, both brothers named Joshua. One died at 3 weeks old and the other at 2 years old. Aside from our more popular family member, these were the ones I wanted to spend my time with
Being a mother who has lost a baby has really changed every fiber of me. I still can't imagine Sarah Barker losing two boys, one after the other, and continuing on to have more children
The strength and faith and duty and love is something I'm only beginning to understand
So under the shade of a huge pine lie the bodies of both boys, headstones side by side
We four collected pinecones, moss, bluejay feathers, flowers, leaves, needles, and bark to make them a little altar to let them know that our people are still here, thinking about them-- almost 300 years from when they lived and died
Taking the strength of my line as a sign and reminder that this is where I come from, these are my people, and this is the history my babies are/will be born into
resting with the plants
trimmed zinnias for blood orange fudge tarts 😍 just wanted to let everyone know that we will be slowly letting go of the grind and simply resting with the plants 🤣
More seriously, it's time to announce that Happy Belly is going through a major shift. Makes sense given our newest news 🤰 but we will be slowing production down to something a bit more manageable for a growing mama
Yesterday Brandon said "creation over creativity" and I couldn't agree more
To keep this show going and still have time to care for our family, we'll have to be open to adjustments
This means, as our customers, you will too ❤
What will this look like?
We'll be a little more inconsistent with what we bring to markets
We may not have the widest variety each week (you're good with the 24 separate types of baked goods, we promise 😉🤣)
We'll most likely not be taking special requests or doing holiday orders
I may not always be able to wake up at 4am to make you guys doughnuts
I'm sure the list will grow while I grow
We may lose a few of you and that is something we are okay with. We totally get that some customers rely on the steady consistency each week and us needing to be flaky for the next year is off-putting. We'll be sad to see you go
And just so we're clear, this is a two person operation-- just me and Brandon (Bea does love stickering though!)
We are baking out of our home kitchen. We don't have a crew or the space to keep this going full-boar 110% like we have for the past 3 years
A couple months ago we had to make a decision to either REALLY grow the business or pull back. We decided to pull back. And then I found out baby was on the way
We're looking at this as the right decision because without making space we know a baby wouldn't have come through
So after many years of choosing business, we're choosing family
We hope you get it ❤❤ and we love that you guys are alongside the ride 🎢
snake class
this is rapture and joy: officially a level 1 certified venomous snake handler/relocator 🤷♀️🤣
My road since 2020 has been a straight path toward sovereignty, freedom, and slowly living into all the nooks and crannies
I have the high medicine of the rattlesnake to thank for bringing me back to the fiercest and most grounded side of myself
After an experience in 2020 with a western diamondback in the Superstition Mountains just outside of Phoenix, I wrote:
"When I work with snake medicine in ceremony it almost always centers me in my heart. She is focused and serious, fully knowing truth from fiction-- almost sniffing it out and giving you no place to hide in yourself. She strikes fast and hard, to remind us that fake shit is poison to our systems. Only pure hearts are allowed to rest with her."
Fake shit is poison, only pure hearts rest with her... this is where I'm at these days
Living into everything that's authentically me-- including my weird fascination, admiration, and deep respect of these amazing creatures
So this weekend-- in Stallings NC, with 85° and 80% humidity, in a firehouse training facility, while 13 weeks pregnant 😜-- I took a step toward the unknown
Whatever this is thats moving me closer, I'm stepping in and letting it take over
The snakes we worked with-- an Eastern Diamondback, a Timber Rattler named Sweet Cheeks, and a Cottonmouth named Bellatrix-- were perfect in their design
With sweet personalities (given 18+ people handled them in and out of buckets and bags with hooks, they remained so tolerant and calm) and an intense grounded focus that I've never experienced before
They're a symbol of our country (don't tread on me), a symbol of medicine work (caduceus), a symbol of the infinite (ouroboros)
So much magic and power in these gorgeous creatures, fuck whatever our culture has said about them
We're all misunderstood
more room for this
making room for more of this ❤
we have been working 7 days a week for the past three years
we're exhausted from grinding
we're constantly missing out on life and we're dealing with a lot of resentment for the business because we always put it first
coupled with some very life-changing personal things going on, we made the huge decision to completely stop our wholesale accounts
so what this means for you...
now you will ONLY be able to find us at @hudsonfarmersmarketny @beaconfarmersmarket and @randomharvestny
or you can order directly through the website (if you're local we'll deliver, otherwise UPS will take care of ya)
what this means for us...
we'll be able to live our life at a slower pace and show Bea what it means to take care of our family
we'll be able to actually see family and friends and not miss every single event because of work
we'll be able to start the homeschool journey with Bea
maybe we'll be able to fall back in love with Happy Belly 😝
Bea said to me the other day "now you're feeling better, you can get back to work" 🤦♀️ it was a strong and shameful moment for me. A "what the fuck am I teaching my kid?" kind of moment.
I hear there's more to life than working 🤣🤷♀️ I would like to find out
This might not be a permanent decision but it's the decision that makes sense now
We've put our lives on the back-burner for years to accommodate the business and now we want more
We know many of you who grab our stuff at Hawthorne or Miller's Crossing or one of the local coffee shops will be super disappointed, but this is to make sure I don't actually lose my shit and shut down Happy Belly altogether
I need a fucking break before I tank the business
sloppy mess of alcoholics
numbness of alcoholics: my immediate family feels like it's finally surfacing after 15 years of drowning alongside an alcoholic
Someone we loved
But...
Someone who held us hostage with his addiction
And an abusive temperament to boot
Every interaction could land wrong and you would be subjected to a rage explosion, so life was like walking on eggshells all the time
Every conversation, every dinner, every "welcome home", every time we hung out as a family... they all felt like we were on the edge of a knife just WAITING for the moment when said person would snap because he either was drinking or hadn't started yet
Stupid shit too, like my brother mindlessly clicking a pen at the dinner table or the dogs needing to go out to pee
Our family being held captive in our own home
Never being able to settle on CALM, so much so that our nervous systems are all fried as a result
I'm smart enough to know that drinking is just the mask for the deeper issues, but the bottle really does a number on families
The visual I always have with the alcoholics in my life (there have been many) is standing face to face trying to connect, but doing so through a thick barrier
It's like they can't interface without alcohol being the filter and the separation-- and in that way it always feels uncomfortably hollow for me
It's an adaptation for unprocessed pain, I get it
But they almost always fail to see the distance they are seeking is creating distance in their relationships-- the pain they are running from is just causing more pain down the line with people who love them
My dad flipped his truck on Christmas Eve when I was 8. He dropped me off with my mom and got in an accident on his way home. He went cold turkey right then and there
The older I get the more monumental of an effort that seems
Something completely born out of love and protection for me, because he knew he was given a second chance
And because I could have been with him
Not everyone answers the wakeup calls though, some just take their families down from the inside
We're all trying to rebuild from all that fucking damage, it took an effort to claw our way out of the hole they left
Glad they're gone tho
bread and butter
Sunday AM + too hot for market = our cinnamon raisin walnut bread with a thick layer of grass-fed cultured butter for breakfast 🤌😘
Thought it was a good time to remind everyone that although the business is vegan, we are NOT vegan 👋
trying to dispel some assumptions and step more into who we ACTUALLY are without fear that it's going to tank our business
listen, we love every single one of our customers who subscribe to this lifestyle-- and more power to you for finding something that works for your body⚡I know better than many how long it takes to find a system of eating that actually works and the ethical issues behind food production/consumption
I started this business with these ever-evolving recipes to treat MY issues with gluten, eggs, casein, and uncultured dairy
"VEGAN" just became the easy catch-all phrase when I would say "oh we don't use eggs or dairy" and the response was always "so it's vegan" 🤷♀️
we've noticed that vegan has somehow become more of a political statement these days-- instead of being a marker of what type of food you're buying, it's become a marker for the people buying/making it
so we want to be honest with you guys in case you would like to take your business elsewhere, if you're inclined to think that way
we've lost customers over the years who don't appreciate that we bake vegan but are not vegan ourselves 🤷♀️ we get it and we never take it personally
and despite the explanation of MY body's journey in defense, it doesn't land well with people who may feel duped or manipulated
so like my post the other day about people taking advantage of the "WELLNESS" for $, I sometimes worry we're doing the same with VEGAN
not sure where we land with the description of the business or if the language is going to shift back to dairy- and egg-free but here we are...
messy little contradictions still making delicious baked goods
so please don't be surprised when our recommendation for topping the breads are goat cheese or cultured butter alongside nut butters and plant pestos ❤
we've got customers from all walks of life who come toward our food for many reasons-- we respect all of you
a change in name
business pivot: talking about wellness used to be radical when we did it 10 years ago
it made sense for me
Happy Belly was specifically informed by my journey to heal my gut because of Celiac Disease-- it was all about creating food that promoted wellness versus dis-ease
so now that Capitalism's claws are in, every company is turning their attention toward WELLNESS in an attempt to gobble up more and more profit
and to maybe make you feel like you're failing at healing yourself and that you need THEIR products to get better 🤷♀️ missing key mentality 👌
I feel like the meaning of WELLNESS is lost and the potency is gone
and frankly I don't want to associate our business with the shit shill anymore
therefore, we're dropping the moniker: "happy belly wellness kitchen"
we're being reborn as: "happy belly home kitchen"
because its a much more revolutionary act to create and maintain a business that stays small and doesn't prey on it's customers
this is a true old-world extension of love-- the baker lives above their bakery, you know their family, baked goods will always be there kind of thing
maybe this is a stupid and insignificant change, I don't know
but seeing businesses cash in on being a "gluten free bakery" while sourcing grain that is fully contaminated at the mill 😤 or making baked goods in a kitchen that is constantly producing gluten products 😤 or not having safe practices to limit cross-contamination really pisses me off (same goes for eggs and dairy)
just stop being fake and taking advantage of customers, you're getting people sick and eroding confidence in what's actually GLUTEN FREE
so Happy Belly Home Kitchen will stand apart from a changing and diluting market
pictured: our Scandinavian cinnamon raisin walnut bread, we'll have it this weekend
dark arts
art and expression get dark sometimes ⚡ we're here for all of it's forms and all of the ways it possesses us, but there are times when the force is totally overwhelming and more like a burden than a blessing
When the thing that saves is actually the thing that shackles
I'll be honest, I feel this way about my work sometimes
I'm both the monkey willing to perform for the crowd and the dynamic goddess who has these creations just pour out of her from heart to hand
We've built this business to a pretty successful place but we're still trying to negotiate work/life balance [especially since the business has been operating out of our 700sqft home for near a decade]
Brandon said the other day that the business has to work for us-- not always the other way around. And I think this is where I've lost the love at times. When I'm chained to routine and grind and I need to feel/hear myself again
I've had the Alice in Chains song "Nutshell" in my head and on my heart a lot lately
If you're going to give it a listen, do the unplugged version-- the lyrics are intense, but Jerry Cantrell's guitar really brings the song to a supportive and uplifting place
Anyway, there is a line that has been on repeat: "if I can't be my own, I'd feel better dead"
Heavy shit, but right-- right?
If we can't be the fullest expressions of ourselves then what the fuck are we doing?
Why not take down the scaffolding that's not truly supporting the strongest versions of ourselves?
I think many of us are scared to live into who we REALLY are
Maybe because we don't want others to see it and be disappointed and then reject the self that's closer to truth (than the version they remember)
But one of the most beautiful things about running this business is knowing that we've become a tiny place where people from ALLLL walks of life can find respite
We're going to celebrate the diversity of your life and your experience because we expect the same extended our way
We are walking contradictions and happy to be messy
Please stay messy with us
There's art and beauty and so much potential just in the way things take shape-- in the time before the put-together manifested version hits your table
my sweet dad
Happy Birthday to my sweet Dad ❤ been feeling him a lot over the past couple weeks, he's been doing important work on the other side
It's really amazing how relationships evolve even after someone has been gone for almost 13 years
Real magic 🧚♀️
I never cared much for making him proud when I was younger-- he always encouraged me to figure out who I was instead of really striving for perfection
He would be the first to claim he was a fuck up and he fucked up. But he wanted something more for me without putting a ton of pressure on my young shoulders
Now that I'm older and I do care
I hope that he sees who I've become. I hope he knows that he has been a part of the change. I hope he's proud. Couldn't have done any of this without him guiding me from the sidelines
Sometimes I feel him sitting shotgun while I'm driving and listening to some of our favorite music: AC⚡DC, Zeppelin, Heart, Rage Against the Machine
Those memories are so entwined in my DNA
The songs will always be the ones we listened to together driving in his growling black Dodge diesel with the music blasting and the windows down-- hands floating in the wind and feeling like complete badasses
And just like that I let the memories and songs take me to a place so familiar its protective and so much MY DAD
birth story: Callum
5:15am, 7/7/17 Callum Angus made his way into this world.
This post is pretty graphic. I don't care much for trigger warnings (especially with this reality) but this is for family. This is a tough one and I'm tired of not sharing.
❤❤❤
I didn't kiss him or really even hold him during the two days before he went to the morgue. There was a primal voice in my head that said to not get this twisted-- that this baby is dead and doing those things would do more damage. The voice said to not lie to myself and to live in NOW
I listened
I just held his hand and touched his face and looked at him. Trying to study every single inch because his body and time would eventually betray us
I remember handling his body was very difficult to do. We decided to change his clothes and it was horrific. Without life, the body goes completely limp. With the looseness of their body structure-- a biological adaptation to get them out of the womb-- he moved like water. Hard to clothe liquid. They had to stuff cotton in his nose and keep a rolled up cloth under his chin to keep the fluids from coming out.
I just kept hearing the voice: he's dead, stop doing this. You're doing alive things. You're doing damage to yourself pretending this is anything but a body
It was viscous but protective. Again, I listened.
His body was kept on ice to make sure decay didn't set in too fast. There were parts of him that where frozen through. His little face was an ice block toward the end. His nose got smushed and stuck in place. His skin had condensation and discoloration on it, like thawing freezer-burned meat.
We knew we had to give him up. The vision and feeling of the changes in his body over the two days set us straight. It was brutal.
The voice reminded: there is a certain point where you will not want to see what happens next-- a point of no return. Time like this would not have been afforded to your ancestors.
They asked if we wanted to do an autopsy. They assured us there were no guarantees anything would come back-- sometimes these things just happen. We knew it didn't matter. He was dead, he was healthy, and that was the hardest thing to live with. So we made the plan to cremate him and when to leave the hospital. Fire like the only bit of control we had. A way to cleanse us from what happened. A way to keep what remains with us forever.
I made a special trip to Scotland to depart with my dad's ashes. We went to Callinish standing stones in the Outer Hebrides to hold ceremony and scatter them. That decidedly felt like I made room in my life for something. I got pregnant with Callum on that trip. So fire and ashes felt full circle.
This is what we have for him. A little shelf in our house filled with his ashes and all the little things we've pick up along the 5 years that mean something to us from him. Big places in our heart and enough insane memories to keep me remembering how this was a moment handed down from the gods. A sacred one.
Well Bea just woke up and needing me to cuddle. Life goes on and on.
garden is life
Raw and unpolished, garden is life.
Full post:
July 4th five years ago I sat on our back porch in the almost full moonlight dealing with hour after hour of contractions. We spent the day swimming at our favorite hole. Making a lunch of pistachios, dried mango, and garlic almonds. I felt my boy in my belly, 41 weeks along, swimming while I swam and quiet like he always was. That night as I was breathing into the moon, each contraction rose up from the depth of my body, out through my mouth, and into the moon. I heard every insect, they're clicks and cricks and lightening bugs and buzz. I asked for help. Out of the shadows of our elder, a werewolf came along to greet me. He told me he protects and patrols our property and is meant to be seen in his were form or his human form. This night he was at the end of his transition just waiting for the full moon to help him burst forward. I asked him to show me his true form, as it is. He was mangled and in the midst of transition. Not quite human, not quite animal. He told me that transition is the most painful process. All that space in between formless and form. It ripped him apart. I asked him to stay with me and he told me to howl the pain into the moon. To let the animal in me be birthed. That animal was death. And as I write this, intuitively knowing this is the right phrase, I feel guilt for saying so. I am a woman who gave birth to death. That is my power. That is my magic. To take death and make life, to allow the transitions of my life to burst forward and take shape. Like the were, after I lost my son, I believed I was cursed and bound to a fate I had no control over. But now it feels like a blessing. A moment in time where a mother brings through death and a new life for herself. The sacrifice and the initiation. The flames of change forever stoked because of my son. Feeding the beast within me, always. We love each other so.
To my sweet baby Callum on his death day ❤
happy solstice
happy solstice from Fairy Lake🖐☀️
our two babies ❤ the dragonfly and the bee
Callum always sends love through winged messengers while we're at the lake
We spent a couple weeks out here, by ourselves, after he died to try and pull all the pieces back together again
It was magical and heartbreaking and we were surrounded by dragonflies at every moment
they acted like little reminders of his love
ephemeral and delicate, here but then gone
just like our boy
I remember early morning pumping session, followed by a full day floating the fishing boat from bay to bay
I remember the first time we caught a fish on that trip. Something that was normal for our family became so visceral and violent after the loss
I remember feeling like the sunsets and the quiet and the call of the loon mamas helped bring me back to life
It reminded me that we're always held by SOMETHING regardless of the chaos of life and loss and love
And this time around the message is: we grow
We make new memories. We heal the losses. We honor the traditions of our family as we nurture our babies. We keep alive the stories of those who passed by keeping our feet and heart at this lake
This time is filled with LIFE
Bea immediately stripped when we got to the cottage. She dropped her clothes, grabbed a fishing net, and went down to the dock-- booty out-- to hop in the water 🤣 (clearly just as determined as her first time fishing!)
@brandon.of.bjerke went in after her and on his bee hat landed a dragonfly
CAB and BEB together in spirit
Like the four terminals of a cross that are bound together by an origin: dad, mom, Callum Angus, and Beatrix Ea
Bea walked out to where I am just to tell me "mama I love you" and then ran back to watching Camp Cretaceous and I have the overwhelming feeling of being in the flow of life like a fish in a current or a dragonfly on the wind
Happy Solstice Magic, sweet friends-- that's all I got ❤❤
the hands that feed you
the hands that feed you
when the oat flour is this fine it fits into the grooves of my print
it reminds me of all the instruments of love these hands have created over the 37 years they've been in existence
it's always kind of visceral putting my hands into oat powder
reminds me of the handprints on the caves in Lascaux-- to leave our mark on the world in the most primal of ways
Monica was here! 🖐
we hit 10 years this year, by the way
got me thinking about the transactional relationships we all have with each other-- hand to hand
whether that transaction is through money, goods, services, time, emotion, attention, space doesn't much matter
but every time you purchase from us you are helping to feed our business and our lives
four of us: me, Bea, Brandon, and Happy Belly
every dollar spent and received is not without the work that went behind it
on your end and ours
you could choose to spend your time/money/attention elsewhere, but you choose us and we feel that deeply
our devotion to this business is something of a guiding light-- a beacon
Happy Belly was gestated and birthed by me, but raised by ALL of us
glad to be part of whatever this sweet beast has and will become
and glad to know that THIS TYPE OF RELATIONSHIP matters the most right now (in this capitalistic hellscape)-- this is really understanding where your food comes from in a much more tangible way than we've ever talked about
so let's keep putting all of our best into her and she'll keep feeding us for years to come
might be talking about myself right now instead of HB, butttt whatever 🤣✌
child and mother
This little one is constantly reminding me that we are learning how to do this together, each and every day
Being a child and being a mother
I never thought being a mother would be a staging ground for massive experimentation and forever change, but here we are on the frontlines
I thought being a mother meant sacrificing my spiritual growth
I let that belief burrow deep into my head for so many years that it actually kept me from wanting/having children
Spent most of my teenage years and all of my 20s against it
Now I feel sad for that older version of me that felt that kids were burdens-- felt that my purpose was more than them
Nothing (literally NOTHING) puts you on the fast track to clearing up your shit and taking responsibility for yourself like having a kid
As long as you have the heart to face yourself every single day, of course
It's a very direct 1:1
I am you, you are me
I am the model for this kid
A touchstone (perhaps THE touchstone)
I want to always be the tree under which my child rests and plays and grieves and explores
Rooted and sturdy mama
Always there for comfort and groundedness, love and tough love
Willing to be the network of support that holds her while she expands and contracts, all until she decides it's time to be a tree herself
It takes bravery to be a parent
To help raise a spirit from the moment of conception to the end of your life (assuming it all goes that way), is an absolute gift
After losing a few pregnancies and having Callum die during labor, life is truly truly truly nothing short of a fucking miracle
The fact that we are anything more than a clump of dividing cells in the neverending pea soup of evolution is astounding
The fact that we can carry on our lines is an honor to every single ancestor who came before us-- a living and breathing prayer, incarnate
I hope to teach Bea a gentle, fierce, and connected way to walk through this world for a very long time
Having this soul beside me is the only gift that matters
For now she's standing on turtles and begging for chocolate and talking about how her favorite dinosaur is a dilophosaurus because it spits and in love with her little but expanding world
