The Mantis Pledge at dusk 2013…. will you take the pledge?
Tag: Praying Mantis
Never ever, no way, give up again!
Last week a white albino dove visited me. Coming so close to me. At this time in my life, it was meaningful, and I reflect on this post from years ago. At this time of coyote, I now have a Coyote Kachina on my hearth for this season of summer.
Coyote has taught me so many lessons. Now the bright bird has really come to visit me in peace and as a friend. Now past my days of harsh survival, raising my kids and finding myself creative again…. It is a good time at 65… quite extraordinary in fact.
It is not a perfect world, there are things in life that I hold in a contrary way. Yet the freedom to be creative is finally to that place again which I left years ago.
Original post.
A pleasure out of the ordinary allowed to oneself: the luxury of an extra piece of cake or a foolish or worthless form of self-indulgence: the luxury of self-pity.
When I think of the time years ago when I walked away from the freedom to create by the means of so many different mediums, I cry. For this was a constant flux of luxury and I was abandoned from it. I became the coyote on the street of survival where anything that might ascend to a crescendo of creative luxury was sacrificed to those things needed as food, water, and a place to live.
The white bird of inspiration lit up the sky.
I asked Coyote, “What joy, inspiration and spirituality…shall I ascend with the bird?”
This is when I saw Coyote jump up and kill the bright bird. She dragged it back to her home in the tree. A large sideways hollow tree trunk where her babes awaited their food.
“Oh, I see you are a mother and in need of food.”
“Yes, I am sorry to shock you but sometimes the luxury of our inspirations must be sacrificed for those we love or care for. We must balance sacredness with irrelevance.”
At times like these there is no time for the luxury of an extra piece of cake or the luxury of self-pity because we simply blend into the fabric of life as responsibility. This is doing what we must to survive.
After years of creative abandonment, a bright bird has come back to sit on my shoulder, to stay and live with me!
This luxury or creativity is abundantly ascending. I move with the crescendo and I eat my cake and cry my tears of self-pity.
Bear tells me to never give up!
The creatively and luxuries of my life I will never ever, no way, give up again!
Autumn is calling …
Bear said,
“Sit with us around the fire tonight dear sister. Let us throw our worries and fears into the flame and watch them burn.”
“Bear, I always look forward to your inward pull and the call of your cold nights.”
Bear replied,
“Autumn’s creativity is a luxury but we must earn it, and fight for it, and when we least expect it… it is freely given.”
Grateful ….
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‘Znard on the road with the Grim Reaper
Understanding strangers is an art form.
Dad was a people watcher. When we took walks together as a family, he was always lagging watching someone.; not always the sexy ladies. He was very observant and was being in the moment. I imagined he was wondering about people too.
The light turned red as I started to quickly make a left turn at Oxnard. We call it ‘znard. I wonder why the guy raced in front of me through a red light. I flipped him the finger as he raced two feet in front of me. My newly inherited silver ring with black stones tapping against the car window. He was about twenty years old with unkempt hair and he had dark glasses on; looking like Gerry Beckly. He was a zombie in a car moments away from a major car accident. I am glad I am observant and that my car was responsive to stopping.
Towards highway 101
He must have been a zombie lost in thought rushing somewhere on the ordered chaos of our California roads. I assume he was leaving the local Jr. College and was driving towards highway 101. He was defiantly a zombie lost in thought. A stupid young driver. He was so young that responsibility to others was not part of his make-up.
Youth sometimes thinks that nothing terrible can happen.
I think he was going to turn right on the Ventura Freeway and head towards Calabasas. He must have been late for a lunch date, job or he was planning to game with some friends. Unaware of the reality that he had a narrow escape with fate, even the Grim Reaper. I know this because I have been close to this darkness over the last few years.
I smell it’s breath and bow to it’s power.
A narrow escape indeed. This zombie youth does not know that I am writing this today and that I am wondering about him. I did not even get the satisfaction of a reaction from him. He did not even see me giving him the finger. He was in a deep zombie state behind the wheels of his flashing red car.
So strange stupid zombie youthful man I will avoid taking a left turn on ‘Znard ever again. I have made that turn many times over the last forty something years. I dare say you will make it past many more red lights…I mean racing through the red lights.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/U.S._Route_101
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Mantis’s August rendezvous
Big Ma Ma golden Mantis is my love of nature and she knows me!!
August is slow and not one praying mantis has come to visit me; every August I wait for Big Ma Ma golden Mantis to come visit me after laying her egg sack. (This is in case you don’t already know this… dear reader).
“Goodbye until we meet again in Spring…sweet autumn is near.”
Is what she always seems to tell me.
Today the outside sewer drainage pipe ran over, and the bowels of hell came forth. I rolled up my pants and got to work cleaning. The rubber pipe outside is under the Praying Mantis tree with purple flowers. I called Mr. Faucetman to drill the sewer line. I don’t think Lance is going to fit under this tree. So, after shoveling, digging, and cleaning, I trimmed the tree back. I was very careful to look for any praying mantis.
I also went to Home Depot to get some tree mulch to put around the pipe and two trees close by; covering anything left and to also cover some tree roots. I like how it gives my front yard a manicured, earthy, and fresh look.
I then looked down and my heart skipped a beat because I saw her on a small ash tree weed. I showed her my hand and she slowly approached and walked up to it. Then I put her up on a solid branch from her tree…. She was so close to her tree where I had recently disturbed her.
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A Serendipity post Hoptimum
Summer is winding down nicely. It seems cooler and I hear Pink Ladies are blooming up Northern California. A sure sign that autumn is a calling.
Last night while enjoying the evening we had a pint of Sierra Nevada Hoptimum Imperial IPA at a local pub. It is a potent and holy brew just right for this time of year.
This evening I found two…they were spying on the Strawberry Cobbler and yesterday…
Mr. Po Po attacked Praying Mantis on my arm…and left his mark.
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Longs days of August..
“If all the world hated you, and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved you, and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends.”
– Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre
Talking is not my cup of tea. I drink beer to help me to be more social. To loosen my intense ego from my reflective brain. Beer is a good way to loosen up and talk.
I was told recently that beer, and the process of making beer, contains an evil spirit… I almost broke out with a laughter that would have showed how possessed I was…
I talk best by writing. Good writing contains threads and archetypes that echo real-life. I love reading autobiographies and embellished non-fiction stories.
Mythologies and fairy tales reach to the heart of a great mystery. This is why I started this blog. To work on writing and to tell my story. To not listen to the bullies in my head that come my way saying:
“You are not good enough to write”
I do it anyway.
“You are lousy at spelling”
I do it anyway.
“Your grammar sucks.”
I do it anyway.
“You will be laughed at and people will hate what you say.”
I do it anyway.
Writing a book or a blog just for ego acknowledgement is not my motive here. I want to inspire. I am inspired by others and by life. I want to remember and reach deep down and pull out something that matters… that is real.
I am happiest when I am writing. It would be a good thing to be able to make some money doing it.
Some are quick to write and come out with a book, I am very slow about it. It is the dreaming, writing and being in the process…that inspires me. I have found from past experience that completion sometimes is not always as joyous or good as the process. Being lost in writing a story, creating a piece of art, or creating something in general is my cup of tea!!
Daily Prompt: Origin Story
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The Gossamer White Praying Mantis and The Crystal Bowl: Two Praying Mantis non-fiction short stories.
From Mama Mantis’s cave..
During the hot, dripping, mucky, cenobite summer mama cooks in her cave. Here we have sqauw rolls covered with a secret tomatoes sauce, marinated tomatoes & red onions… covered with copper kettle Parmesan cheese… with a little jazz, life seems cooler. Pop these babes in the oven until the rolls are toasty and the cheese melts… and happy animals all around!!
I think I have found I am in the process of vegetarianism speaking to me again but contradiction howls as Coyote says,
“Keep it cool baby…keep it cool!”
She is chewing on hallowed out bones…ohhhh. She tells me her stories; the whisperings of tricks, humor, love and barbecue ribs. I give her a sly glance. I just don’t know if I want to take her too seriously. I have been fooled before.
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It is the time of new stuff..
hellosheath depletion region…
“This radical or root insecurity is, paradoxically, the greatest security we can find”*
Yes a few symbols thrown together.
Science reports and metaphysical books galore
are
written up about both statements.
That untouchable place of
process
that is
new and unknowingly different
and undefined…
It is the TIME of this new stuff!!
* Astrology Beyond Ego Tim Lyons
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Federal Government…
I know this will not be a popular post… and frankly I don’t care… but I will stick with Thomas Paine on this topic…
“Government, even in its best state, is but a necessary evil; in its worst state, an intolerable one.”
Until people govern from within, they need be governed from without…the desire of greed for power is what corrupts us… the governmental focus needs to be the service and maintenance of the land, but we live in a fear-based society.
The GOP …sigh… is using propaganda like the bowels of hell… step back don’t get pulled into it…xx I have no secrets …I have at the most, 30 years left on this earth… I don’t have a cell phone…I am not a terrorist… I am not involved with human-trafficking nor am I a pedophile…
I sure want the FEDS to find those who are… we need student loans and money for the terrible damage caused by tornadoes, earthquakes, and hurricanes… it isn’t perfect, but it is better than the alternative… “So, it Goes.”
USA.gov: U.S. Federal Government — Learn about the U.S. government’s executive, judicial, and legislative branches, and their specific functions.
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Summer is the time of Praying Mantis Flowers…
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Narcissism comes to play on our birthdays
Narcissism comes to play on our birthdays… we…once little babes. Now that special day comes to say ,
“Hey it is my birthday!”
I have waited 66 years and Dr. Seuss’s Birthday Bird has not come yet to visit with the official birthday bird greeting… but I know it well. Do you know the official birthday bird greeting? Finger to toe and finger to nose?
“Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.”
― Happy Birthday to You! Dr. Seuss
I can wait. As a mom I always get it all going for the kids and my husband on their birthdays. Yet, I would not find the same for me. I think if I did have a little girl instead of two boys things might be different. I take responsibility for my own narcissist birthdays. I prepare a birthday table, get a cake and make up some food. I share these birthday pictures too with you.
Flowers and a cake will make you smile? A Morning Glory Greeting might take the place of a Official Birthday Bird Greeting. A little baby praying mantis on the mesh
My narcissistic shadow and foot with Mr. Po Po
Beef stew with sweet potatoes, onions, and wild thyme in the slow cooker…
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The weight of the world for Praying Mantis.
Praying Mantis Kachina
Praying Mantis Kachina T-Shirt
Designed and sold by Hudley Flipside
Order Print on Demand.
https://www.teepublic.com/t-shirt/80206956-praying-mantis-kachina?store_id=1424027
Who needs to use chemicals,
poisons or pesticides when
you have us in the garden.
There is absolutely no reason
To go after, too many, crickets,
aphids, black widows, and termites.
I keep things in balance.
Yes, sometimes
I get a little greedy
Eating a butterfly…
but I am your comrade
Your friend
of the garden…
sometimes hanging
on tall buildings in the city
Then I am one
With Superpower!
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This is a Praying Mantis theme song.
But It can hale true!
I listen to a diversity of songs all the time. What I like best about songs are when they talk to me. I talk with them so why not them with me. I use them in my posting as highlighters to accentuate the theme of my postings. If you trip through my musical posting they will tell you a story… oh my I revealed myself again. I think you can do this with most writers.
When songs talk to you it is important. I call it synchronicity listening. At the appropriate time a song comes forth and you know it’s talking to you. Why, you must think about it to find the answer: not take it lightly, it has meaning. One song that did this recently is Love Buzz. It was years ago when I first heard it!
Nirvana brought it back from the dead. A band named Shocking Blue created the original recording of this song. I like both but prefer the original. I like the depth of Mariska Veres vocal style. It sounds like the dark Goddess graphing me by the heart into the underworld. I feel this song is about the power and even imperfection of love and the overwhelming seduction and abuse of it, but It can hale true!
I posted the song on my Facebook a few days back. Then I went out to the local pub and a friendly DJ played the song as soon as I drank my first pint. Stunned, I felt the hairs on my back go up. I realize that stepping out for the night was a good thing.
We were meant to be where we were at that time and place in history. With so many opportunities available at the time, so much going on with old and new friends it was the place to be. Life in general was being shady.
I realized when the song played that life is a real bitch sometimes, but I am gracefully loved and being taken care of.
I love songs!!! This one of the Praying Mantis theme songs.
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They help me to understand…
The Crone Praying Mantis
I have never had a real person out-there mentor. My mentors have always been from books published by people long ago demised as William Blake or Carl Jung. When I read their work, it is not in a way as if to own it or to be an expert about their works. When I read their works, and see the images they have created, it is if they are here with me, beyond space and time showing me things.
They help me to affirm what I know and support my experiences. They are my mentors in this life. They show me the big picture and they teach me, they still do, about how to live in this world. They show me how to use my imagination and to share what I have created.
They help me understand power, strength, and insight. I have learned to love contradiction, humor, and metaphor. I have found bliss in creating mandalas, watercolors and grasping the hands of nature.
They guide me in confronting my fears and remind me that I am not alone in a complex world; Blake and Jung both reveal that uniqueness is a form of brilliance.
Also, we as humans shouldn’t strive for this without its complementary and sometimes contrary opposite, which is to learn to be alike and the same as the most common and mundane.
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worth in this life
s a 55-year-old woman who is in a cocoon stage of menopause, I am pulling away from the words and ways of regret. In my 30s I held on to the ‘shoulda woulda couldas,” these regrets once raced around in my mind; they went racing around in my mind and they took all energy from my life. As I melt here and reflect on life, I realize I am at a good chrysalis state of acceptance. I know my mind and heart. I know I can focus my mind on what I want to without peer pressure directing me. I know that my heart has a mind of its own and I let it do what it wants, this is creative inspiration. I write my stories, poems and angry editorials. I share my history and life. I have family, friends and mystery muses (who may not ever know who they are)! I am waiting, listening and focused. I do not hear an echo or sense a haunting of “shoulda woulda couldas” anymore. My ambition is null but like the purple flower from the novel, The Color Purple, I like to be noticed for my worth in this life.
“Shug: I think it pisses God off when you walk by the color purple in a field and don’t notice it.”
For me it is walking by a praying mantis and not noticing her. That must piss-off nature something awful!!
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Jester editorial to the arrogant and decadent…by Flopside Comics
One does not need to agree with this editorial…
One day in my master course at Mount St. Mary’s College in Los Angeles, I was in a Spiritual Direction course. The issue of priests and sexual abuse came up as a subject in class. It was an uncomfortable subject for us. My follow students, and believers in the Catholic Church, were in a strange kind of denial. It is not my faith so I can see outside their control panel.
The course was taught by an old Nun. She seemed very with-it and up to date on matters? She was a Spiritual Directive director on campus. She is a type of meditation, psychology, and spirituality advisory person. The Nun-teacher said that these abuse cases would help the Church and make the Church more authentic. I said loudly and firmly in class,
“But sister, just one child abused is too much!”
“You have the right to your opinion…” is all she said back to me
.
My “inner guide” was a flame and I almost got up and slapped her in the face. This happened only a few months before the first announcements and lawsuits towards the Archdiocese of Los Angeles, which was around 2004.
Yes, while in this Masters programs, I poked my head deep into the very foundation, laws, history and strange ways of the Catholic Church. As a Jester of High degree I have to know who my enemy is.
So this Ash Wednesday I will sport a red ash on my brow and where a green glove on my right hand. To cherish life one does not rape children or mock the dead. I will take my glove off and slap the air from the arrogance and decadence of this holy day. From my inner place I will imagine that sister-nun-teacher…. because I will be slapping her face…again and again… and again…
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A FULL YEAR!!
In my backyard
It is a year for me on WordPress. I have tried posting every day. I love how this site has developed over the year. The pages and categories are improving. It is a focused and informative site. I want to say thanks to all of the individuals who added me to their follow list.
Cheers, thank you and a happy Imbolc ,
Hudley Flipside
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Gifts fogotten
I tell my two sons to clean their rooms
and they don’t
it is like pulling teeth
I am guilty too..
Then when I do clena up, like them
we find forgotten gifts…
toys, books, art or a poem
and these are some I found today…
Hudley Flipside Art
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She was a little wild, a little guy crazy but innocent as the smell of Shalimar!?
Shalimar’s recognizable scent has captivated women and their admirers for almost a century now. The iconic love potion was created by blending lemony top notes and fragrant florals over a rich base of vanilla, patchouli, amber and musk. The result is an exotic scent cocktail that deepens into a powerfully sensual weapon, over hours of wear. (taken from Advertisement)
At 16 and at Christmas I was as thrilled and alive as any young woman. My gifts changed from toys and trivia to more serious and harder to please items. Of course Santa was long gone from my view. The Christmas holiday became the usual routine of family, turkey and poker games later in the evening.
Now was the time of sneaking booze from the bar and smoking something a little more potent with teenage friends.
I wanted some Shalimar perfume. All my gifts were opened. No Shalimar perfume. I was filled with grief.
Then my dad disappeared for some time. We thought he went to get some food or more drinks. He came back with a gift…
It was a gift of Shalimar perfume.
I have written and told this story many times because the story still holds a heart punch for me.
My dad has the ability of being the worst of the worst but at times he could be very sweet. When my dad makes his trek into the great beyond which will be sooner than later! I know this will be one feeling we will share forever of a good deed done at Christmas time for his teenage girl.
I imagine as he greets his mother in that place of the great beyond, she too will be wearing the scent of a rich base of vanilla, patchouli, amber and musk!!
