A mother's heart is filled with pieces of memory. I am awake in the very early morning feeling these remembrances. They are effervescent and actively bubbling. I have to take care of my heart as we all do, as my daughter will have to do in new ways. It does begin with our relationships with our own mothers. It is how we were cared for and how we cared for them. It is those precious times when we needed comfort and to be shown the way. Whether we received that comfort or how we were shown love is forever in our hearts. It shapes us, it truly does. And when we enter motherhood ourselves no longer the daughter but now the new mother, that new heart, the heart of being a mother begins to form. It begins with an armature of love in those first very first days. When a mother reviews the fingers and toes, the hair, the color of the eyes and guesses who her baby looks most like. It is in those first stages of falling in love. It is a love beyond all. You begin to recognize that as you fall deeply in love. I saw that glimpse of wonder today in Sara.

I am now a mother of two adult children with a heart that is filled with so many pieces of memory that sometimes the experiences of life can cause them to spill with unfinished emotions. Being present for the birth of our first grandchild and the birth of my daughter becoming a mother has caused me to have many of those collected memories arise. I feel them. I feel so many to be overwhelming. I have had many challenging times as a mother with a child whose life was always threatened.Those broken edge shards are still held together with miracles of hope that I will always carry with me. They are also experiences with tears that wheal in my eyes and can affect my vision.

There are memories of this daughter who has just become a mother. I see her innocence as a young child and her unique nature and character being revealed to me. She was always special as our children are to us. But, no we think this child truly is the most special. Sara was always kind and good and solid and loving and thoughtful and sensitive. Sensitive, that is most important in describing her. She has learned a lot about how to care for her sensitive heart, her open heart, up to now but with the birth of this child her heart is more vulnerable than ever. I cry so many tears that I could not protect her from the treacherous disease that lived in our home, cystic fibrosis. Oh in retrospect I wish I could recapture so many of those moments and hug her deeper and longer. We all carry wounds and I as the mother feel so responsible for those of my children. Did I give what my children, my darling daughters needed most? Did I give them the strength to weather what is to come? Isn't that the worry and concern of mothers who wear their love for their children forever in the beingness of who they are?

I just witnessed what is happening everyday all around the world, the most essential of all experiences, the birth of a child. As a mother of Sara, as the grandmother of this baby it is one of the most profound of moments I will ever know. My heart is telling me this is so as emotions fill me, overwhelm me, make me be needy in so many ways. Needy for these memories, needy for recognition, needy to fill those gaps of what I still wish could have been. Needy to be comfortable with it all as it is, wishing nothing to be changed. Needy to just love and be loved. Needy to spend time with this darling baby I am calling my snow fairy.

After Anna's most profound lung transplant I created this sculpture who represents these feelings of being a mother. We carry our heart that is filled with these pieces, they are our heart. We wear them in our beingness, it is true. Enter the world my darling Sara in all the ways that you are perfect, in all the ways that you care for your heart, in all the ways you are falling in love with your darling, enter the world of being a mother. It will fill you, it will shape you it will be the most profound. And thank you for giving me this special gift of becoming a grandmother, I pray for this little one that her life is full and rich and protected.

She is my snow fairy
Pure and sweet
Dancing on wolf moon beams
She came to be
My heart burst
Blessings sing joyful tunes
She is my snow fairy
Pure and sweet

Our babycake arrived at 11:31 PM on January 15, 2020 at 7lbs 4oz just before a beautiful snow storm dressing the town with a lace gown of pure white. She is a girl! Name to be given probably later today. Mom and Dad have to discuss this matter. Truly Sara really thought she was to have a boy. I tended to that thought as well until yesterday morning. After Sara and Ian were off to the hospital I took a little time and meditated. And then sitting still in this time grew a sense of knowing. It came to me it was a girl. Even though this intuition was strong, I still questioned it, knowing full well that the predicted impression should have been trusted wholeheartedly.  I knew I had to tell Doug to mark this prediction and I did. And this is my story so I can boast about my prediction when many others made a correct one too. But what a lovely joy and gift to only truly discover her gender following her birth. I did not know with my first born as well. So, so special. Sara has a daughter!!!!! So excited for her! And me and Ian and Doug and Anna and Terry and Ian's family and......

Sara's labor just would not kick in all day. They tried with "miso" to kick in the contractions as she was 5cm and then progressed some with little action. Sara was just feeling too good.  They then started pitocin in the afternoon with no really progress until they upped it around 5pm. Things seemed to be some more active. By 6pm we were feeling the dinner bell. Ian got ready to go out to get food to bring in. Very shortly after he left and with a move taught by one of the OBs to allow the baby to drop down Sara's water broke. For her and her MD friend and supporter it was a hillarious moment of now what do I do? Call Ian back! Get ready for the ride! And the ride began at 6:30PM into very active labor. Sara had 5 hours of labor, no pain killers but some nitrous oxide and she hung with it. One of her Dr. friends lead her skillfully into using her breath to enter the pain and be with it. It was amazing and calming. Her pushing and the delivery was exhausting and tough. Our darling arrived and we were all blessed. And Sara was a hero initiated into another powerful part of womanhood.

The room was filled with people who Sara loved and who loved her, her colleagues who gave her the best of care and her loving husband, Ian and me the mother, grandmother, Bubbles. This name, Bubbles, does it make you giggle? Does it make you say, Bubbles? This name happened when Sara was first pregnant and she asked us what do we want to be called as grandparents. I wanted to think on it. I did some research. I googled names. I saw a few silly names including Bubbles. It made me laugh at how silly such a name would be. I told Sara about my research and silly name discovery. I told her this as a joke. But, she said, "That's it! You are Bubbles!" She would not let me say no. So, maybe it is truly Bubbles. It makes me giggle and makes me smile. I wanted a name different from Grammy which was my mother's grandma name. I have no problem being a grandmother, I am so honored and blessed to be at this stage of life and please also refer to me as the grandmother but Bubbles is fun! What grandchild will not want to spend time with her Bubbles! We will see if it sticks....

Today, watching the snow all day. I am home. I got home at about 2AM last night just as the first flakes were falling. Ian will come home I hope to rest and then I will return to the precious ones. Such deep, deep satisfying joy. It is hard to share fully here on this page how at one moment in time I feared I would never have such a joy. Life is so filled with miracles and this is one, Sara is one and my dearest Anna is one. With this full joyful heart, all of it is one incredible, amazing, stupendous, gorgeous, mind blowing MIRACLE! So, so, so Blessed.....Isn't she lovely?

On our way to the hospital early this morning with our breath swirling up due to the cold and the light snow crunch under foot. Sara will be induced to encourage our little dear one to appear and to finally be in our arms.....now, did you guess boy or girl? The truth will be known soon. Sorry I don't have any prizes for correct answers!

Last night we thought we might be having a baby delivered but labor stopped. Not time yet. Soon, yes it will be soon. There is progress. Once again after the unseasonably warm days, rain and the melting of the snow there is a thin blanket of white outside. I feel it is a day of less words.......let us open the door to the wisdom beings as this neighborhood house so beautifully depicts upon its eave. Silent, Listen, Open.

 I have used the word vigil for my waiting. Is it the right word to use? Looking for definitions I found vigil to mean, the rite of staying awake for devotional purposes; wakefulness maintained for any reason during the normal hours for sleeping and a period of watchful attention. There are other descriptions of a vigil including those of being at the bedside when someone is dying or a candlelight vigil to mark an event or religious rite. We are awaiting the birth of a child. When left to nature we do not know when this will happen. Like Sara asked yesterday, "What is the mechanism that tells the body, now it is time to release the necessary hormones and begin the labor?" There is a moment in time when this happens and those who are family and friends have waiting anticipation for that event. We are in a period of watchful attention. We are looking for signs and feelings and simply filling time until the event happens. Our focus is on this as the most important future event. But we can go deeper it seems and that is using this time for the "wakefulness maintained" ...

In trying to understand more about "vigil" I found two quotes,

“I keep vigil over the stories of men and the stories of things, in case I can discern some secret message of my Love.” - love that quote!

“I’d write and read and let myself, a little at a time, step down into myself- like a stairway down into a dark, intimate kiva- where the work of vigil is taking place, the necessary attending." - such a powerful thought!

I found these two statements particularly relevant. For me being here as a parent, a to become grandparent, a mother-in-law, a woman thinker and interior diver I want to use this vigil for these purposes too. As the stillness of sitting that we are taught in Buddhism offers the letting go and letting be, so can this time of wakeful watchfulness, the vigil. If I look closely around me and in me I can find places that need examining, polishing and adjusting to be more peaceful and present in this moment. This practice is not without an edge. It is meant to show the edges, the places where our emotions reside, our preconceived notions, our judgements, our holding on. But I recognized this morning if I can use this very special time when things have slowed maybe I can make a little progress when progress within is greatly needed.

Maybe I don't need to prove anything to myself but just be aware when the edge makes itself known. I felt it today, that edge. It was recognizable and love showed it to me. I remembered my mother again and my relationship with her. I remember being a young mom and how I felt my mom was seeking her spot, her role in my life as I am now seeking mine. I was inpatient at times. I was confused at times. I made mistakes at times but we found our way. I trust love. I do. I trust love above all else. If you have a noisy mind filled with chatter go to the heart. Where the love is. Yes, right there, that is where you drop the story line. Oh, if only you could do this all of the time. The teachings are available for us to use but we are evolving, we are learning, we are stuck, but it seems when we are in vigil we open, we can learn so much. And this is such a lovely and happy time to be in a vigil of love.

I have experienced other different and  particularly power times of vigil in my life. One was at the time of my mother's passing. Mom wanted to go. She had told me for quite a while that when it was time she wanted to pass, transition, leave into another world. She felt her life was complete and in a sense she was in a vigil waiting for the door to open when she could find a spiritual freedom from this earthly life. Her door opened when she fell and broke her hip. It was quite remarkable that she seized that moment to find the exit, the exquisite door made of wings that she had been waiting for. We sat with her as she consciously placed the wings upon her back and within days escaped to another place leaving her body here. My sister and I recognized the power of this intimate time. I remember sitting alone with Mom in the night, in a bedside vigil being as wakeful as I could be. I felt the room fill with beings surrounding her, welcoming her. The hair on my arms stood up and I continued to sit. I chanted and sang and reassured my mother. Tenderly her family surrounded her in the middle of the day as she flew away. Thank you mom for those precious few days we were in a vigil with you. You taught such a beautiful lesson to us including Sara and Anna who both were able to be a your bedside.

The vigils of life being born, of life letting go. These are the vigils that we can participate in with our family. Such joys and learning in this so brief and temporary life. Hold on to our memories, hold on to those we love, sit in vigil as babies are to be born with joy and the anticipation of more and more love coming into our life. That is what happens in vigil, we mark a time, we feel deeply within, we share joys and sorrows, if we can watch wakefully.

Last night was the second night of the wolf moon. Its beauty will be part of the remembering of this baby vigil.

I have written about my mother many times in the past. I always wanted to know her deeply. In her wisdom and due to her past experiences she would tell me some but not all about her. I was so curious to understand why she was who she was and what she felt as a child. After her passing I pulled together the notes and clues she left behind for us to find. I did detective research and used some imagination to write a story about her life and that of her family in Chicago. She was born there in 1923. And finally after this story writing I could put her to rest in the most revered place in my heart. I so loved my mother and felt so dedicated and close to her my whole life. I also felt the mother daughter angst that expresses the struggle of girls seeking to be themselves, unique women of their time. I believe this is a normal and necessary part of our psychological make up that helps us propel forward each generation at a time. But I do think it can cause confusion too. I experienced that with Mom. But, now I know and understand not only enough about the pieces of her past in The Great Depression and through World War II but also by what we learn as we grow and age ourselves. I feel my mom so close now. It is as if she is here right behind the  veil. She is pacing and waiting, listening to us and embracing us as we are in our baby vigil. I feel so blessed that I can feel her so close.

Mom was also a writer. She wrote poems. Not only did I write the story about her life but I also compiled her poems. After she passed we found poems everywhere. They were in journals in her antique chest, in her favorite books on the shelf and laying in places we did not expect. I published a compilation of the poems for our family and friends and called it Fragments. They were pieces, fragments of her life she needed to write about. I imagine it is like I experience writing. As you write and edit and listen to your words you gain more understanding. Writing causes you to stop and focus. She wrote regularly. I read all of her interesting writings. I learned even more about her and probably more than she really wanted me too. As I said above she was quite private but she knowingly left her writings for us to discover. She shared little of her poetry when she was alive. She did not find it necessary or helpful to do so. Sometimes she would offer a poem to each of her four children so we all knew mom was indeed a poet.

And we knew we were her greatest love along with Dad who was her knight in shining armor. Here is a poem mom wrote for us that I am sure she would say it was fine to share.......

Reflections on a Mother’s Day In her Garden, 1976

Amidst these seedlings
Nodding new-born heads against my sunny garden wall
I think today of you
My son, my daughter, my daughter, my son

Nourishing these sprigs and those that spring from me
Has been my everlasting and cherished joy
Tall, strong and beautiful you have grown
And within you I meet and sense a strength
Giving answer to a gardener’s prayer:

May there be roots that search deep
That reach out to seek a world
Hidden beneath the cover
Of this protected bed.

For Mike, Greg, Robin and Sue from their mother

Indeed this is the prayer that mothers hold for their children.....

This photo must be circa 1995 ish of our family.......

And this is a poem she wrote about her first grandchild, Ethan, Greg's son.

For Ethan

Son of my son
Your little boy – hand
Enfolded in mine
We stand for thee expectantly at the ocean edge
Our legs touching as we wiggle our toes
Beneath the slipping sand that is
Pulled back into the sea

Your little fingers curled within my palm
Gripping memories of other sea days rush in
As the waves roll toward us
“Here it comes again” you cry with glee

The white sudsy wave tips fill those spaces
Between our toes as we press deep to hold on to sand
Slipping, sinking, sliding, riding out again.
“Will it come again, come again?”
No stopping the tides,
the currents,
the tumbling waves will roll up to meet
and tickle little boy toes
Again
And again
And again.

And I am sure Ethan remembers his times with Grammy as do my girls. In fact I know how much Ethan loved our mother. I am proud of the grandmother my mother was. Her love was true and forever warm. I know my daughters have their special memories of Grammy and of Pa. I hope that Doug and I will also be able to build those types of memories with this first grandchild. And, I hope that Ian's mother and I will build a grandmother bond of nurturing and support together. Wouldn't that be wonderful? So, looking forward to this adventure about to happen.

Today, it is unseasonably warm, most snow has melted, rain has fallen, it is gray outside yet welcoming for a new day, a good day to be born?

While in our waiting game I read most of my book group selection of "What Alice Forgot" by Liane Moriaty. It is the story of a 40 year old woman who looses the last ten years of her memory. Her last memory was of being pregnant. She learns that since that last memory she has had three children and a break up with her husband who she loves so much. Alice has to reconstruct the past and retrieve those memories. It is when there are particular places, smells, sounds or words that give her a feeling of familiarity so that finally she can hold the flood of memories that come back. It is a very entertaining novel if you are interested. It also gives one pause to think, what if my precious memories where erased from my mind? Who would I be? How could I cope with not remembering the birth of my children or the personalities of who they became?

It makes me want to remember. I do remember the birth of my first born, Anna. I also remember the impulse to say, it is time to get pregnant! My dear, dear friend, Wendy was just pregnant with her first born, Athena. I guess I was feeling a little competitive, not sure but I thought, "I can not just watch her doing this. I need to have a baby too." I was in graduate school as was Doug. We agreed to let down the curtain of protection. Oh the foolishness of young minds and hearts that do not know what they do.....and then I came to my senses, or so I thought. "Wait!" my mind said. "Maybe you want to go beyond your Masters and get a PhD. If so then this baby time can wait for a future time." But, it was too late. We were fertile! Anna became my PhD. And at the time I did not know how right that statement was to be.

Anna was born July 13, 1981. I was one who favored a more earthy approach to things. I wanted a birth experience with little interference and no drugs. I was determined to deliver in the birthing room at Stanford. Birthing rooms were relatively new at that time. You could choose to deliver in the traditional delivery room or the new modern birthing room. In the wee hours of that day I awoke to stronger than usual contractions. My engineer husband kept diligent track of each wave, its distance apart and length. At some time soon after it began we called Dr. Baldwin to say we had begun the process. We did not know whether we were to have a girl or boy. We wanted that surprise. We had names picked, Mathew for a boy and Anna Lark for a girl.

We arrived at Stanford Hospital around 9am. My water broke as they examined me and my dilation and the labor became more intense. Soon they told me they were concerned that there was so much vernix in my water that just in case there was a problem I should deliver in the delivery room. I was to be wheeled down the hall for the final pushes. It was there that our Anna was born. There were no obvious problems so we were wheeled back into the birthing room. It was shortly after 12 noon. My labor was not long and protracted and I did not need pain killers. It was going with the flow of the most incredible surge of life force energy that took over my body. What a deep and powerful experience it is to be a woman and have a child. A memory sure to keep that has filled in my heart forever.

It was expected at that time that you would stay a minimum of 6 hours after a birth before being released. Being the rebellious earth mother that I was I was determined that I would leave around 6PM to get home for dinner! My dear mother was at home cooking for us and dinner would be waiting. This was my right to go home after all. I did the right thing and had my child in a safe place but now that we were both deemed well I wanted to leave. Well, of course at 5 or 6PM in a hospital is the time that orderlies who wheel you out in a wheel chair were busy delivering dinners so I was asked to wait. I thought, no, we do not have to wait. Our papers were all signed, Mom was making us dinner and we were going. So, "Doug will you please, bring my bag. I will take Anna and we will walk out on our own!" And, we did! Such nerve! Kind of dumb too actually. I remember feeling woozy in the elevator as we escaped. But we got home to our little cottage in Menlo Park. And there was my lovely mom and dinner!

And one more thing, I remember it was a very hot over 100 degree day when Anna was born. The heat affected my flower garden. I had planted cosmos. There was one perfect large white cosmos that opened that day to greet our Anna and the beginning of my PhD. and Doug and my life changing adventure. Anna's life has been one of tremendous challenge, unexpected miracles and a life time of love.

And then 7 years later I had my sweet and wonderful Sara. I also remember what lead up to that pregnancy and her delivery. Because Anna had a genetic disease, cystic fibrosis, Doug and I had a 25% chance at each pregnancy to have another child afflicted with this serious, complicated and life threatening disease. By the time we had decided to have another child we were well aware of the terrible nature of CF. Anna had almost died at 18 months old and we were immersed in the CF community. We wanted another child. We knew we would only do this once. We would not risk our chance more than that. Having Anna was a huge handful. We so hoped for a healthy child and sibling for Anna.

At the time I was deeply studying Tibetan Buddhism. My teacher, Lama Gangha was my spiritual guide and support. He helped me get through the difficult time of accepting the path our family was on. I went to him with our desire and need to have a healthy child. He gave me meditation practices and a very special amulet to wear that held prayers. I did all that he suggested and then being a bit older, 35, it took a bit longer to get pregnant. This trial was filled with a lot of concern and worry that we may not be fortunate to be pregnant with a child who did not have CF but, I had a dream that was vivid and one that I will never forget. I was in a stone room with lamas in the Himalayas who told me I would have a child with a healthy and happy rebirth within 10 months time. I woke up with a start. It felt so very real. I was not yet pregnant. Very shortly after the dream I became pregnant and indeed with Sara's due date of July 4 and her eventual arrival on July 22 (a little past the due date!) she was born exactly within 10 months from that premonition and dream. Yes, magic.......thank you Lama Gangha.

My labor with Sara began after dinner on July 21, 1988. I tucked Anna in bed and told her when she woke up Grammy would be there and I would be at the hospital having her sister (this time we knew it was a girl and we knew she would not have CF, such a blessing). When I went to Stanford Hospital the nurses greeted me with a very casual welcome. I think it may have been because I was not screaming in pain they thought I was a long way from delivery. They told me that the birthing room as being readied for me and Doug and I were to walk the halls. The told me I had a long way to go. "Oh really? I thought. This does not feel a long way to me." This was my second and I knew how it felt.

Finally we were told we could go into the birthing room and someone would meet me and check me soon. We walked in, I had to go to the toilet, sat down and then said to Doug, "I think this baby is coming very soon! Please get someone." Dear Doug ran to get the nurse. They helped me on to the bed and then the nurse told me to hold on. Hold on? Are you kidding me? Hold on? They wanted Dr. Baldwin to get there. So, I guess I held on. Dr. Baldwin arrived and not long after so did our Sara. Our beautiful, wonderful Sara. In the pictures of me with Sara and Dr Baldwin after she was born I still have my bra on and never got in my hospital gown.....it was quick when she decided to come.

And Sara is another one of our jewels. We have two jewels, two rubies (the birthstone of July), Deep red in color signifying a passion for life. My two children are so different and both so very precious to us. My memories of their entrance into the world and how they have enhanced our lives are the most special and forever with me. I would never want to loose those recollections of great love.

And this is what I wish for Sara and Ian. Memories of the anticipation that recognizes the power of this time and the deep desire to have this baby and build a family. I am so blessed to be invited to be here at this moment of waiting and then to be present when our sweet one is born. So, so many more memories to make about love and growth. I wish them the happiest of times with this little one and that he or she will grow into another special person who is as caring, loving, smart and compassionate as they are. Peace be the day and moment when babycake arrives.

Sara is having coffee with a friend........we are still waiting........

The waiting is getting long and tiresome. One thing for sure there will be a time we are no longer waiting. Needed to get out so we traveled to Camden on the coast. Had lunch at Sara and Ian's favorite restaurant, Long Grain. It is a special Thai inspired restaurant. Loved it. So sorry Doug, we had these mussels in a coconut Thai based broth. Our energy has slowed.

We will continue to be present and recognize good things when we see them. This morning Sara walked in the kitchen to the window at the exact time two eagles were doing a flight dance. I looked after and saw them as one perched in a tree and the other flew off. Sara's reaction was of surprise and wonder. It is when you see special unusual things in a moment in time. The eagles were there for her. It was a little gift from nature. But was it also a sign?

Today was a predicted day for babycake to arrive. Well, not so far. Perhaps the eagles were saying, soon, or what ever we want for them to have said prophetically. Tonight we will go to a woman's full moon bonfire. Maybe that will kick start things.......

Any way, Today, still waiting....

Sara has a favorite coffee shop that we went to in August when we were here last. This morning it was sunny but chilly with blue sky. A bright day good for a walk so we went down to the coffee shop. The owner is a friendly young guy who loves his trade and recognizes his customers. He even welcomed me back remembering meeting me last summer. We ordered almond milk chai lattes....yummmm. He then, as so many people do commented on the curly hair we both share. "Ah yes", I said. "We hope the baby will have curly hair too." He saw this as an invitation to offer a prediction. Becoming serious and pensive while contemplating all the possibilities. "I predict, it will be a boy," he said confidently. I also predict it will be 7lbs, 10oz." And then feeling he was on a roll he continued, "Lets see, he will be born on Sunday, in the afternoon and you will have only 2 hours of labor!" All this shared with a warm assuredness that only a serious and accomplished predictor could.

Following this bold and detailed prediction of not only the gender and day but also weight, time of day and length of labor Sara congratulated him for offering the most treasured prediction of all, only 2 hours of labor. Then from behind the counter appeared two beautiful almond milk lattes with the signature barista hearts. I commented, "the heart of the predictor". And he said ooooo that is a great title for a book or a movie. "Are you a writer?' I asked. "No" he said, "but, it would be a story of someone who makes predictions for everyone else but does not understand his own life, his own heart." Yeah, together we exclaimed he thought of a great story line! "Are you sure you are not a writer?" The coffee barista said definitely no but he was a thinker and a talker. He thought up ideas all of the time.

The story, The Heart Of The Predictor, can you see yourself as that story unfolds? Isn't it easy to watch others and from afar come up with ideas of where their life is headed? And then we get lost in the twists and turns of our own. What if we became a better predictor of our own lives? What if we knew ourselves so well that we always knew how to put that one foot in front of the other. But, even if we can learn to do that better it is the telling of the future that is really hard to do. How do you read the currents of time, the positions of the stars, the feelings that creep on your skin to know what is to come? Is this truly a gift of this Hallowell barista? We will see soon........

And who would have predicted that a beautiful artistic woman from Florida whose family is from deep in Mexico would open a shop just down the street and LOVE it in Hallowell? We strolled into her shop down the street. Again, a sweet New England style building with the cold air and snowy sidewalks contains a shop with the deep emotional art of a Mexican woman and images of Frieda Khalo, articles from Mexico and interesting pieces from other local artists. She told us her story of finding Hallowell and the feeling that she belongs here. Seems so unlikely but her story made so much sense. But who would have met her in Florida as she was raising her children and say, "I predict, you will one day move to a small village in the heart of Maine and love it there." If there is such a person I would like to meet them.

Our lives can go in so many directions and they do. There are so many things that I could never have predicted. But, sometimes after surprises come you can look back and see the trajectory, it was coming, you just did not know it. I predict many more of those. That is the heart of my prediction, many more surprises for me and you! Nothing specific. I am not one who reads the tea leaves, wish I was. Or do I truly wish that? Maybe the surprises are better. Like, not knowing the gender of this grandchild. We do not know. Sara and Ian chose to not know. It is going to be a surprise. I predict that! I love surprises especially ones like this!

A short walk into town can take you to an art place. Hallowell Clay Works is a pottery and ceramic shop and studio. Malley gives classes and studio time to those who use the wheel or other creative things with clay. Sara started creating here not long ago. She has made some wonderful bowls and small plates. When I knew the timing of my visit I thought it might be fun to take a class. Looking at the selection of classes for January one stood out. On Wednesday mornings was a "Sacred Feminine Hand-Building Class". Wow, perfect! Today was the first day. Malley knew I was coming. I had emailed her about one month ago to let her know I was interested. As it turned out I was the only one! But, she wanted to do the class too any way along with her art intern. So, it happened.

She started the class discussing the feminine and how it is devalued in our culture. The reason for this artful exploration was to discover how we connected to our feminine aspect and how we integrate it with our masculine nature as well. She had a deck of cards that depicted archetypes for us to choose from. Then Malley offered us some clay to just begin, to see what emerges. This is a four week class so I will be able to attend all sessions.

Loved feeling the clay and letting a shape come to be as I pinched and smoothed and carved. Three pieces emerged. One was definitely a vaginal canal....yes indeed, a visualization for opening and calling the babycake to come into the world. The next figure was an open armed female figure ready to accept the emerging baby. And the third was a face of Grandmother Moon. I know it is a great surprise what Robin would create when given a chance. But, this is just the beginning and we will see what more emerges in the next weeks. No photos now. I want to keep it under wraps until they are ready to be unveiled.

But then in such circumstances you talk with each other to learn more about who each of us is. I shared that I am a SoulCollage® facilitator and how wonderful that process is. Malley was intrigued and it seems we are so much of like mind it is a little silly. I found a new artistic, visionary, community loving, spiritual, ritual loving, full moon bonfire loving, inward looking buddy here in wonderful Hallowell! And, I have been invited to offer a SoulCollage® class at the Clay Works studio while I am here. Fabulous, that was not expected. So I think on Sunday, Jan. 19 I will offer a workshop here in Hallowell. Yayyyy! that will be fun. By then babycake will have arrived, for sure!

And then, we discussed mosaics. Lets add mosaic lover to the list of Malley's qualities too. She wants to do one here. So, I volunteered my help and guidance in any way I can from a distance and maybe when I am here again......a Maine community mosaic may soon to be born along with babycake! This birthing energy is contagious. Well, still no sign of the grandchild yet. We are reminded that this is an amazing week of incredible astrological significance. Ok then, choose your time, your stars, your planets and your moon and we are ready for you dearest one!