kyce – Page 14 – Kyce Bello

December 29, 2010February 19, 2012

The Subject Today is Love*

*apologies to Hafiz.

I’ve been thinking on love and the role it plays here in my heart, our home, amidst my family, and also that large world surrounding us, the communities and ecologies, the whole web of life that is so sticky and torn.

It seems to me that love has to be at the root of how we live, guiding the choices of what we buy, what we eat, what we throw away. When we were in the midst of our plastic fast, I’d often wonder at the Why of it. Obviously it was a symbolic act. Folks were quick to remind me that the ecological benefits of a glass bottle over a plastic one were debatable. We had no illusions of the profound impact our experiment had on anything but our own inner lives, our sense of Right Living and balance. In the end, we were transformed by the simple act of discipline and conscientiousness that were part of it.

What I came to consider the real heart, the true purpose of our fast, and yes, even our lives, was the work of the Ecosattva. In Buddhism, one who takes the vows of a Boddhisattva agrees to attain enlightenment only after all other beings have done so. It is, in essence, an impossible task, and one of supreme compassion. It is a heart opening path in which love for others takes precedence of love for one’s self.

For the Ecosattva, too, compassion is the source of a life dedicated to ending suffering of the planet and all her children. We “know” it is an impossible task, that our small acts are, as society loves to remind us, irrelevant. And yet we feel in our hearts a deep calling to do this work–call it simple living, environmental activism, deprivation, whatever. And then we do it. Imperfectly, perhaps. With limited means, often, and sometimes a dollop of doubt. But so long as our hearts are engaged, so long as love is the reason, rather than fear or guilt, then we are on the path.

What more can we do but walk it?

Hey, it’s New Years!

I don’t know of any vows for Ecosattvas, but if you were to make them in your house, what would they be? Be as grandiose (I vow to liberate the planet from capitalism) or as practical (I vow to always use a handkerchief) as you like.

For more thoughts on Buddhism and environmentalism, I recommend this article.

December 20, 2010February 18, 2012

The Mother’s Prayer

THE MOTHER’S PRAYER

Our Mother, whose body is the Earth,

sacred is thy being. Thy gardens grow.

Thy will be done in our cities,

as it is in nature.

Thanks be this day

for food and air and water.

Forgive us our sins against the Earth,

as we are learning to forgive one another.

And surrender us not unto extinction, but deliver us from our folly.

For thine is the beauty and the power,

and all life, from birth to death,

from beginning to end, forever.

Amen.

So be it.

Blessed be.

~Henry Horton, 1989~

The fourth light of advent, (Rudolf Steiner said), ” is the light of humankind, the light of hope that we may learn to love and understand.”

Wishing us all that light burning bright within our hearts and homes.

May we all be re-born with the sun.

December 17, 2010December 17, 2010

Advent-itious

These dark winter nights are rich, ripe, and blooming with symbolism.

This book is beyond beautiful, and speaks to the mysteries of this sacred time in a way that transcends religion.

It is perfect for a small girl and her mother to read together as they anticipate the birth of a tiny baby in their own home.

How to bring these shining beings to life?

Well, start with some potato people.

Add velvet.

Place on the advent altar, amidst the stones and plants and animals.

I’m still working on the babies, mine and Mary’s. Both are expected soon.

Alas, the sweet, dreaming donkey shall have to wait until next year to interrupt my holiday crafting.

~::~

November 30, 2010

The Way Home

I can’t say why I love this land the way I do. Maybe it’s the years of walking the same paths, of watching the seasons cycle in and out, the droughts come and go. Perhaps it is simply that I have so long been held in the strong arms of this arid landscape.

In any case, I welcome the shifting seasons that return us to the arroyos and piñon-juniper hills that surround us. We leave behind the high mountains, with their lush green summers and brilliant fall colors. (Long gone are the days of our radical adventures skiing and winter camping.)

Now we just mosey. Up and down the same paths we’ve taken for years. The occasional coyote, a cawing raven. Sunlight shining through the lacy gramma grass. Onto our faces.

We know these well worn trails by heart.

We’re home.

November 20, 2010February 19, 2012

Unplugging, Continued.

Earlier this fall we paid a visit to Tinkertown—

one of New Mexico’s “most renowned folk-art environments.”

Totally super cool labor of one man’s love of making things with his hands.

He once said, “I did all this while you were watching TV.”

(He probably didn’t have a two year old, either.)

What do you do when your screen of choice is dark?

(Besides raising your kiddos, of course.)

p.s. Thanks for coming to visit me here when you’re online. I’m so delighted to have you!

November 11, 2010February 18, 2012

The Return of Eco Shabbat

As the days get shorter, we find ourselves turning off the lights once again.

Spending one evening each week in the quiet candlelight–a way of reconnecting with each other in the midst of busy days, of taking a little rest from the noise that fills our lives, from the constant doing that prevails in our world.

A way to give thanks to the earth for supporting us, by taking a little less from her one night each week.

A moment given over to stillness, reflection, gratitude.

A long quiet in-breath that is by its very nature a meditation on where light really comes from, a lesson on how to tend the fires within.

We linger over our meals, for where else is there to be, or to do? Friends drop in to feast along with us, and our sense of community is strengthened little by little.

Sometimes we make music. Sometimes we tell stories, ones we’ve been saving and ones we never thought we knew.

Sometimes we just sit quietly in the darkness, and go to bed, already rested.

Good night!

November 1, 2010February 19, 2012

A Very Special, Mostly Fabulous Handmade Holiday Tutorial from the Crack Team at Old Recipe for a New World

Now what, you might be wondering, is a gal that won’t even buy knitting needles to make Christmas presents planning to give her most favorite loved ones this holiday season?

Well, pinecones, of course.

Pinecone firestarters, that is. All credit for this idea, good or bad, goes to the otherwise great book Earthways by Carol Petrash. I’m still not sure whether or not I’ve been led astray and the following tutorial borders on the absurd. But I had fun. Plus, I can always say the Little One made them.

Onwards!

Take a walk somewhere lovely. Somewhere with pine trees.

The little stream in the big bend of the road up there in the mountains is a fine place, but almost anywhere will do

as the goal is simply to fill your hat with pinecones.

(This is a good task to enlist the help of the little ones you intend to blame this gift on.)

Beeswax. Mmm. I should say that part of the appeal of this project is that it is sort of like pseudo candle making for impatient people like me.

In our town beeswax is found at the farmer’s market, herb store, and candle shop.

Carefully hack off lumps of wax while your child naps. She can still get the credit.

Melt in a double boiler. Remember–just a little water, and a tall-ish bowl to keep splashes out of the wax. (If your child is four or older, and very careful and meticulous, they could help with your constant supervision.)

I used about a half pound of wax for this pilot project.

The smell of warm beeswax and pinecones is heavenly.

The book says to tie a string around the cone and dip it, but these micro fir cones did fine just getting stirred around with tongs.

I usually dipped them just once, careful to fill the petals of the cone with wax. Every third cone or so got double dipped.

Then onto the parchment paper to dry.

I was surprised at how quickly the beeswax disappeared–half a pound of wax for a couple dozen cones.

Now of course I tested these little guys out, of course! But my methods were very poor.

You can see I didn’t actually try to start a proper fire, thereby testing their actual function. I just wanted to see if they’d burn.

And the answer is, kind of. Sigh. I’m sorry friends, but I can’t guarantee this fine project. But look, this one did blaze on its own for a couple minutes. Or was it seconds? Maybe with some paper, some kindling, it would have been a roaring fire in an isntant.

Yes, I’m sure of it.

Anyways, it’s the thought that counts. And it’s a gift from a two year old to her papa or uncle or grandpa, or any outdoorsy, woodburning fireplace kind of person.

A little gift promising warmth and light for this winter’s cold, dark nights.

(Imagine photo of cute paper bag with red ribbon sticking out of stocking hanging by fireplace)

What, what, I ask you, could be better?*

Well perhaps a few things. Head on over to Renee’s and Tonya’s blogs for more glimpses of handmade holiday tutorials that don’t belong on Regresty. And thanks to both fine ladies for inspiring this latest adventure here at Old Recipe. And for the record, I will be making other nice things for Christmas, too. Hopefully they’ll all be as popular as pinecones.

No beeswax pinecones were harmed in the making of this picture, but it's one from this summer's road tripping I've been looking for an excuse to share here.

*My husband the firestarter (see otherwise unrelated photo above) was just consulted on this project’s viability and he said that my cute little cones were a) too small, b) too green, and c) not open enough. Plus, they are from fir trees. He says PINE would have worked better. Who would of guessed? I guess the diligent herbalist was caught up in the romance of the moment…plus, the little fir cones seemed like more bang for my buck in terms of stretching beeswax. Fortunately, this was only a test.

So don’t go to that bend in the road, go to that dip where the Ponderosa’s grow, and get the old dried out cones from last year, not the freshies from this one. And then drench the suckers in beeswax like you mean it.

Love,

Kyce

October 28, 2010February 18, 2012

Lustful Knitting

Nobody warned me. When I sat down to learn to knit last winter, nobody said, Beware, this may be your undoing.

And I’m glad they didn’t, because I love to knit. I have about a hundred projects I’d like to make this winter, and the only thing (!) stopping me is this: Gear. I have two different sizes of knitting needles, and am just realizing that of the many patterns I collect, almost none of them call for the same size needle. Um, what’s a girl supposed to do?

I’m really a pretty good non-consumer. I occasionally lose it at yard sales and thrift stores in big cities, but in general, I don’t buy anything but food and underwear and used books. So it was strange, that rush of I Have to Buy Every Size Knitting Needle I Can Get–Right Now!

I almost bought a set of interchangeables. I almost bought one of the insanely cheap sets of like 15 needle sizes straight from China off that place where you bid on stuff. I almost went and just paid full price at the local yarn shop for a needle size that seemed useful, someday, but not quite yet.

And then I just stopped, and watched myself for a second. I went back to the two little projects underway on my two pairs of fine circular needles. I’m having fun with them. Besides, how much knitting can you do at once?

This isn’t the first time I’ve wanted something. Badly. Right now. But that breath, that pause, that little bit of room for the desire to exist without consuming me, or turning me into a consumer, I consider it a friend. Sometimes I realize I don’t need what I think I do. Or that I do. Or I can find it secondhand if I wait a little (or more likely, a long time).

I’ll figure it out, no doubt. But how do you handle that crafty person’s craving for…more? More fabric, yarn, books, supplies, projects. I kind of agree with this related post from Little Home Blessings. Sometimes it’s a fine line between inspiration and lust, between doing it yourself and consumerism, eh?

October 22, 2010February 18, 2012

Gathering Medicine

In the midst of harvest season, I remember to gather the last of the medicines we’ll need this winter.

Many of the herbs we gather, mostly tea plants, come from the mountains. It is one of the most important things we do each year, a pilgrimage of sorts.

And there is also much medicine to gather here in the garden. Some were planted intentionally for that reason, like the mint, oatstraw, and nettle patch (yes, that’s the kind of thing we actually cultivate in New Mexico). Some things were planted for beauty, like the roses and lavender and Echinacea.

Some things are volunteers, so humble and common I have to remind myself of the power in their small, dark green leaves. That’s the mallows, and the alfalfa. Potent plants that will nourish us all through the winter.

Wild, cultivated, and vagabonds from between the cracks: We gather them all.

Having a relationship with our medicine, even if it’s just some alfalfa tea from the front yard, is a powerful way of re-localizing our habits and connecting with seasonal rhythms of our home.

It empowers us as healers, deepens our sense of place, and reduces the harm we cause to the planet in our quest for natural remedies.

We become healers of the landscape as we tend the stands of herbs that surround us in spaces both wild and domestic. And the herbs, of course, take care of us in return.

It is an ancient partnership. One each of us can claim and celebrate in these last days before winter.

~Be well!~

October 15, 2010