i have a sister. she is kick ass. i don’t like to mess with her as her rough side is rough and deadly. i owe many lessons in my life that i didn’t have to experience to learn, to her. she has the back bone to have survived it all. she wears her scars proudly and humbly. one of her invaluable lessons was back in 2004. she came to our recently deceased mother’s house to visit my little family. we had made a recent move back to my mothers house from the bronx, the change was doing us good and we were on new family mode, nesting and all. it didn’t take my sister two seconds in the kitchen before she uttered these words “nichim! look at this mess! this is how you like to live? is this what you learned in NYC?!” (and this is my post where i admit i am not the cleanest one of all!) “hay sister, i am not as good as you in the cleaning department” i figured a little guilty building excuses would let me off the hook. it didn’t, it just got more guilt back at me “if mother could see her kitchen right now, she’d send you back to the bronx with all your mess!” we laughed, but she was right, mother would not have tolerated one bit of it, as much as she pampered me, my mother was by far one of the most clean organized virgos i have known. and her kitchen was her priced possession. on her next visit, sister showed up with a present, wrapped, with a bow, handed it to me with this encouraging words of wisdom “listen nichim, all you need is a psst pssst pssst! y ya! have it right here next to your sink and use it as soon as you see something that needs cleaning! now get to work!” my sister is the queen of words, she comes up with some hillarious things as well as being the dictionary of refranes chiapanecos. in my sister’s dictionary the definition for the pssst, pssst, pssst is:
psssst, pssst, pssst: noun /psit psit psit/ etymology: sister’s very own mexican vernacular. dated in the late 1990’s. 1. a recycable spray bottle filled with a mixture of clorox, amonia, terpentine, and just about any other cleaning supply found under her sink diluted with just a little water. 2. a cleaning solution that can clean anything, it can even dessintegrate the paint off your car. 3. the one thing her little sister needs to get some cleaning sense into her life!
it has taken me at least 3 years to pass my sister’s cleaning program. if you pan into my 2007 kitchen, though not spotless, next to the sink you will find my very own pssst pssst pssst made with healthy non-toxic and cheap ingredients that even my children can use! after some research and my own experiments, i came across this helpful little pocket book by raleigh briggs with a slew of great tips on how to make a home using all kinds of simple and earth empowering ingredients and materials. here is her recipe for an awesome all purpose spray cleaner.
1 teaspoon liquid castile soap (i used dr. bronners)
2 Tablespoons white vinegar
1 teaspoon borax
2 Cups hot water
1/4 each eycalyptus and lavender oils
3 drops tea tree oil
mix all ingredients together in a spray bottle.
raleigh suggests not to use this on windows, and to spray scrub and rinse. check her book out, it also give some awesome gardening, first aid and body care tips, she also has other interesting titles!
this goes out to my big sister! who still swears by her killer pssst pssst pssst!
Posted 2 months, 3 weeks ago at 5:36 pm. Add a comment
it was a hot and muggy night out in the brooklyn streets. the mother finally gets her kids to sleep to the sound of their one fan blaring in some calming noise and blasting hot air into their faces. she kisses her man, scoops a generous amount of ice-cream onto a cone, and walks down the stairs to sit at her stoop, feeling half guilty about the kids not getting any mint-chocolate chip ice cream, but fully enjoying it all to herself. just as she is about to give it one more lick, the woman shows up. though it had been a while since the woman had made an appearance at the mother’s stoop, they instantly recognized the glare of eachother’s eyes. they knew their truths would be out on the table like a fresh deck of cards. so there was no sense in hiding it. both were curious to see where this encounter would take them, so without a second passing, the woman sat next to the mother as the stagnant night air seemed to be cut by the slightest cool breeze….
the woman: mother! it looks like you are not keeping up with the hairstyles you used to have when you spent more time with me? you sure look busy. too busy to look good.
the mother: honey, if i can get those 15 minutes of sleep that it takes to do my hair, trust me, i’m goona take them! as long as its clean. though i’ve had a few days of overdue hairwashing before, truth be told. how about you, you still worry about your hair that much?
the woman: a woman has to be in touch with her sensuality, mujer! and my hair is an essential part of me as a sensual being, i take care of it because it makes me feel good. i only get this body once you know!
the mother: you got a point. what’s happen to me is that my priorities have changed. i find myself deeper and deeper into the world of giving. and yes, often that means that i forget about myself, and that is not ok, but this giving world is actually quite a meditative practice. because i don’t always want to give! but when i do, and i let go of me a bit, i grow a bit more. i would rather meditate for 15 minutes in silence all by myself than do my hair! different priorities…
the woman: girl, you need to take time for yourself! watch, after you do that awesome side french braid hair due you used to rock back in the day, you’ll feel soooo good! and you’ll look in the mirror and say to yourself “i still got it!” and that is going to elevate you to higher meditations mama!
the mother: you’re funny. i won’t lie, i miss that hair style! Though in honesty, something that has really changed is that I am not so interested in what’s going on outside as much as being focused on what is going on in the inside. I have learned to pay attention to the smallest influence and feeling that i have inside, and actually locate its root, place that feeling in the right context rather than just react to it. You know?
the woman: no, i don’t! everything is a reaction, what is wrong with that?
the mother: well, i tell you what’s the issue here, every reaction i have is a mirror to the children, and they will learn from my behaviour. For example, if i am tired and don’t address that, i start acting real strange…real pissy, grumpy, rude, and the b. i. t. c. h. starts coming out, and it doesn’t matter who is there, you are gonna get it! the root there is that i have been on the go for days without a chance to renew myself and my energy, if i don’t address the root cause, then my behaviour will be filled with negative reactions. And my children suffer, i suffer, my partner suffers. The children learn that its ok to not take care of yourself and instead act disrespectful. So, even if i am rocking a dope hairstyle and i’m looking soooo good, inside I am not feeling that great. Back to my original point, I choose sleep before I choose hair style!
the woman: girl, i remember when you were a b.i.t.c.h.! It was fun! we all got one and we all gotta make sure she’s sticks around for when you need her. Plus, doing your hair and spending time with me would rejuvivate you to heaven, and then you can come home all relaxed and fresh for your peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Lol. My point is don’t let go of what is good!
the mother: you are persistant!
the woman: i am a woman! and too often you mothers forget that!
the mother: well, same goes for you, though you don’t forget, you just don’t know what its like to be a mother!
the woman: i may not know what it is like, but i do know that you are not just that! a mother is a part of you, but you are a woman, if you weren’t one you would not have these babies!
the mother: true, except that you haven’t experienced the process it takes to become a mother as a woman. Once you are a mother, you are always a mother, it becomes an absolute part of who you are. It is inseparable. You become one WOMOTHER.
the woman: WOMOTHER! there you go with your made up words! i disagree though. you must separate them.
the mother: why?
the woman: because your children will leave your side one day, and then what?
the mother: then I will still be a mother.
the woman: a mother that doesn’t need to make PB and J anymore. lol.
the mother: a mother that is going to spend some time doing her hair! lol.
the woman: mama, are you seriously going to wait 20 years before you touch your hair!? my point is that you can give the mothering thing all you got, forgetting that you are a woman, and then as the years pass by, your mothering career changes and you are left with a “who knows what” wondering what to do next. So before you get there, do me a favor, go braid your hair!
the mother: and my point is that I am changing, not only because I’ve become a mother, but because part of being a woman is learning to change, and accepting that. if you define womanhood by rocking a dope hairstyle then you will always be stuck on how the outer world defines you, rather than honing to your inner womanhood and the wisdom that comes from your inner strength. Girl, there are days that my hair is a mess, and the house is a mess, and i don’t want to cook, and everything is upside down, but knowing how to take 10 minutes to get in touch with my inner wisdom turns everything right side up, and it gives me the strength to get what needs to get done and still be joyous. Being a woman for me is knowing how to define myself and be always in touch with my deepest truth, so that if i go outside and my hair is not done I can still walk in joy and in love with myself and those around me.
the woman: ok. you got me. though there is still something you can’t deny; your sensual self. the woman that knows it is exeptionally wonderful to smell good.
the mother: hmmmm. smelling good? i’ll have to get back to you with that. i got to go get some PB and J’s ready. mua!
Posted 2 months, 3 weeks ago at 4:50 pm. Add a comment
i have joined a writing group. two other sisters sit next to me twice a month, share their heart, give feedback to mine. and by the magic of women gathering, i am weaving words easier these days! During our gatherings i workshop this blog. I set goals to commit myself to creating a space for my voice, my truth. bring together the utterance of my voice and how you might experience it. So far (on our two gatherings) i have gotten a fill on how to maintain focus. in addition, i truly love sharing space with mothers. learning how different mamas maneuver self with motherhood, society’s expectations with deep self truth. i gotta say though, what really has been a catalyst to my focus was a simple yet poignant question from one of the sisters. it came as a response to my vision for this blog, she asked “What is a tribe?”
as she uttered the words i thought “YES! i finaly get to tell someone!!!!” and “Oh crap, now i really have to own up to my vision.” i took a deep breath, i had a quick flash of the past seven years, and another one of the next seven…then, answered. so for tonight, in honor of the one person that may be reading this right now, here is my 10 point rendition of “what is a tribe?” in the voice of mamaluna and in the vision of risingtribes.
1. a group of beings committed to each other’s empowerment and evolution.
2. mothers who know to be sisters, sisters who know to be friends, friends that know to be mothers. fathers that know to be a holding hand. brothers that cry, children that teach. community that cares, warms, feeds, breathes, sings, dances, laughs into continuum.
3. an ancient, wise, oral spoken story, danced and prayed to a beat of drums, flutes, tambourines, earth, in a circle of mothers, elders, children, fathers, youth, uplifted by truth.
4. a group of people that care for the earth, communicate with all its beings with respect and reverence, and commit themselves to care for all.
5. a family whose values lie in nature’s wisdom, whose children are the elders and the elders the children.
6. the dogon, the dagara, the tzeltal, the inuit, the tzotzil, the klahoose, the coastal salish, the navajo, the pima, the hopi, the nahuatl, the olmec, the zapotec, the inca, the zulu, the maori, and the thousands of tribes that are still thriving in our world, who are continuously under attack by systematic oppression, and corporate greed, but who pray with full hearts towards the well being of all, even those who hurt them.
7. a group of people that are self sufficient, working collectively toward the health and well being of all, who are mindful and considerate of every one’s needs.
8. a happy people, happy to each do their part towards the betterment of all. That sees the health and expression of each individual’s heart and creativity as the health of all.
9. a community that ensures a joyous, supported and nurturing home birth, that supports a child through her every day learning, that holds the hand of a brother that is struggling, that reviews its collective if there is someone suffering, that continues to care for elders as it cares for its children, that honors each individuals efforts. a community of self love.
10. a community free of systematic oppression, free of greed, free of fear, free of doubt, free of destructive hierarchies, free of competition, free of judgement.
i honor all of the tribes that have survived the constant waves of humanity’s fear, grateful for their continuous teachings and living energy. i believe with my heart that in all of us there is a being of light, a being that can heal themselves, heal this world, and come forward to rebuild the broken ties of our human web. One family at a time, as rising tribes.
In light of this post, check out The Council of 13 Indigenous Grandmothers, who have began to mend the web, leading the way towards the rebuilding of peace.
Posted 5 months, 1 week ago at 7:27 am. Add a comment
Little friends of ours, two sisters, are turning 5 and 3 on the same day (yeah talk about sharp calculations). I asked our 4 year old little friend if she would enjoy a pin~ata for their bday and if so, what kind. She eagerly requested a unicorn. Ceiba and I got to work a few weeks ago, and this is the process and final product.
I will add that this has been a learning highlight of our few days here at our Learning Tree. I got to dig in my bank of cultural memory and share stories with Ceiba about being a child in a place like San Cristobal back in the 80’s. Specifically, we talked about the artisan dedication that is required to be a pin~atero/a. I shared with her a story about the family that made pin~atas around the corner from our house, friends of ours, about what it was like to watch them work, and how it is through my observations while at their house that I remembered how to make them.
We worked on how to build a vision and design. We looked for “realistic” images of unicorns, and we found a “real” picture of one. We used the image and one of their toy horses as a models, a great technique for her to learn observation, three dimensional design etc. She saw and part took in the various steps required to build the structure. She learn to appreciate each step, to learn to be patient as she waited for the next. To respect the delicate art. She even exploded with ideas as to how to make this pin~ata magical. One morning she got out of her bed and came downstairs, and proceeded to gather all kinds of goodies, including pin~ata candy she got from another bday, and she made “pin~ata bags”. She figured that if she divided equally all the goods and placed them in decorated bags, then everyone would be treated equally, and pain and unfairness would be avoided. She inspired me to make a set of draw string bags with recycled fabric and some of our beads.
I got to say though culturally, pin~atas are the training ground for fighting bullies..it toughened me up!
Presenting the Unicorn:
Posted 1 year, 3 months ago at 11:42 pm. Add a comment
Though the season is over, these were part of my winter transformations. I had been volunteering at the Free Store, there I would come across scraps of wool sweaters, and they would definitely call me! Slowly I began collecting a box full of them, alpaca, wool of all kinds, angora, you name it, fine, fine, fine sweaters. Inspired by a local friend and sister of the crafts, who a couple of winters ago was walking around the island looking good on a woolen skirt of some sort. Came to find out, she had turned a wool vest into a wrap around “Kidney Warmer.” In her own words “A woman has to keep her kidneys warm.”
Her wisdom let to inspiration, and being a cold winter, i got to work, turning sweaters into kidney warmers for those awesome mothers whose kidneys need the lovin’. Our 4 year old Ceiba had to have one of course!
Here are a couple.
Girl skirts are made from the sleeves of adult sweaters, which are just the perfect size. I love the pockets!
My first venture into free form desing here. Wool lent it self quite easy to the cut and sew of these wavy designs. Here i have pieces of two lefter over swaters (black and off white). They are perfect on top of jeans, or any pair of comfortable pants.
Posted 1 year, 3 months ago at 10:09 pm. Add a comment