Feeling pleased that the child does not rush to see in a mirror after the hair cut.  Hand reaches up to feel how the locks have been styled, hair cropped close on the sides while longer hair on top continues to flop in all directions.   He is satisfied.  

    Most of what he learns comes from the things not said and the things not done.  The child already loves himself coming forth, that is part of being a human.  Living here without a mirror, that inherent self Love develops purely, gently, without the information that a good, clear mirror provides.  Catching one’s reflection in a dark window or the still water of a pond becomes a fascination and offers vague, easy images that won’t be locked in the mind for criticism.  It feels good to live in a few areas of life, as an original human.  Gazing upon one's reflection in a clear, modern mirror offers information that humans have only had access to in the recent past.  Knowing each line of our own face and how the hair looks has come relatively recently in human culture.  Living without a mirror allows sensory information from touch and imagination to take priority over what the eyes report. 

    Experiencing a smile as simply the pure expression of heart overflowing Love feels pure and untainted by one’s knowledge or concern about the details of what that smile looks like.  Are there lines, does one eye squint, are the teeth straight or crooked, are they white enough?  The child has permission to just smile, to laugh, to cut his hair, to just live and thrive as a human without the visual image of his own face burned into the mind.  Seeing one’s own face multiple times a day in a clear mirror serves no purpose and presents information that cannot be ignored.  Living without a mirror is an experiment to discover the freedom a human can experience when allowed to go without certain visual information.  

Living without a mirror has been a huge change for me.  It just happened.  I left the city, my job, and public bathrooms when I moved into this house, onto this farm, in the deep country.  There is a nice bathroom here but there was not a mirror hanging anywhere.  Somewhere along the path a small ceramic plaque came to hang in the place one would expect to find a mirror.  The plaque reads, “walk by faith, not by sight”.  The lifestyle I was leading of not wearing makeup, and having beautiful hair instead of a hair style that required fixing and setting fit the culture around not using a mirror.  Not having a job meant that it did not matter what I looked like since I was no longer representing my employer.  I began living as a human representing God and my own true self. 

      Not a lot changed without the mirror as I continued to wash the face and brush the teeth and hair.  The biggest difference came when occasionally I would find myself in a public bathroom or at a friend’s house in front of a clear, large mirror.  Oh, look at that!  I am quite pretty.  Oh right, my hair is grey, I forget about that and all that it means in our culture, especially since I’m not even 50 years old.  So many times since living without a mirror someone will stare or even comment on my hair and I can feel my brain reaching to understand until suddenly, I remember what they are seeing.  The beautiful grey, silver hair that sprouts from my head.  The lines on my face are deepening and there is no need to inspect them daily.  My teeth are sturdy and comfortable, no need to see them with my eyes every single day.  

    There lives a trust, a faith that has developed in the place where my mirror used to hang.  It’s so easy to Love myself.  Its so easy to feel the Love that God feels for me.  God doesn’t look at me with human eyes, and neither do I.  

Trees reaching high

Glorious stretch up, up, out, high up towards the sky

Celebrate!

Trees call joyfully

Celebrate!

Look at this lovely world

See the perfect sky

Reach up and stretch

Feel the stable earth holding sure

Breathe up from the earth and reach 

Up up towards the sky

The heavens, the clouds, the mystery

Feel the wind guiding your reach

Gently back and forth, back and forth

Celebrate the movement, rocking in the wind

Celebrate reaching towards infinite heights 

Tree stands rooted to solid, heavy earth 

Tree reaches up up to celebrate the possibilities, the joy, the perfection

Of Love 

Recovery

Feeling so dark and so low many days in a row.

Getting good at soothing myself, letting things be as they are.  And then the SWEET relief.  The humble morning when my primary goal is to keep my mouth peacefully silent.  Singing allowed, but only from inspiration.  The clearness, the ease.  I vaguely remember just yesterday how heavy and dark things felt, but there’s no need to figure anything out. 

  Look where I am Now!  

Feel this lightness, this ease of being.  Sit quietly for just a few moments and receive the thrilling inspiration to stretch. Oh yes!  My lovely body wants some movement and gentle release after supporting the dark and heavy times.  Sweet, darling body, you are so good to me.  Thank God for darkness to make this light so brilliantly bright and free.

spiritual sex.

 Healthy, balanced sexuality

  When Mateo was little, naked, toddling around the house, I would joyfully squeal, “Puddle!” when he peed on the floor, or even outside.  His physical body was doing something normal and healthy and I meant to encourage an awareness around his pee-pee being released.  Creating and environment of conscious acknowledgement and joyful acceptance, near celebration of the normal physical process his body was displaying.   The idea was that as he became conscious of the physical process of releasing the bladder, he would then also gain control and work in harmony with his body to eventually choose when and where to pee.  Creating an environment of love and respect for the body so he can live in peaceful harmony with his physical vessel.  Its a long term relationship we humans have with our bodies and I wanted Mateo’s relationship to be loving and honest and full of reverence and cooperation.

then sex.

I’ve been thinking about sex and physical pleasure and I want him to have a go at a healthy, balanced relationship with his penis and his body’s physical expression of sensuous pleasure.  For now I see three distinct sort of stages for a young human to develop through.  

Stage one involves private personal pleasure.  The boy child gets to know his body and notices that the penis becomes erect sometimes.  At some point the penis will release semen.  I want this all to be normalized, just like learning how to pee in a toilet.  I want the child to explore his body and maintain the focus on Love and respect for the physical pleasure it offers.  I imagine him noticing how the pleasure is deeper when there is Love and understanding surrounding an experience of self-stimulation.  I want him to create an intimate relationship with his own inner Being through the experience of physical self pleasure.  

Stage two involves a second person, a friend and their physical body.  I know it feels good to explore another’s body and to have my body explored by a good friend.  I want this child of mine, growing into a man, to lovingly and consciously explore with another human, maintaining his focus on his relationship with his own inner being.  This means that the other person will never be responsible for his pleasure and he will never be responsible for the pleasure of the other.  The humans can participate in each other’s pleasure but the responsibility for pleasure and for release always stay with each individual.  

Stage three involves clear communication, babies, and two people sharing responsibility for each other’s pleasure and release.  

Decision

 I havee decided that All is Well.  I have decided that Love is all there is.  I have decided that I cannot get it wrong.  

I have decided that I live here, in this place on earth and I have decided that I will live here until I die.  I have decided that I follow inspiration and I can move away from here if that inspiration comes, and while that isn’t happening, I am living here.

Making a decision about where to live until I die frees up a lot of energy.  Many other decisions can flow from the idea that I will live here forever.  

Neighbors.  Developing relationships with neighbors becomes relevant and pleasant, meaningful, worthwhile.  Exploring the woods and getting to know the hills and the trees feels deeply satisfying as I imagine my life continuing to unfold in their steady presence.  I like being steady like the hills and the trees.  Knowing that my shape and surroundings will evolve over time and that my place will never change.  

I’ve watched people in my life wondering and searching for a new place to live, to make their home.  I remember putting energy into seeking a new apartment and getting to know new streets and neighbors, moving my physical belongings from one container to another.  Having made the decision to stay here, to live here, sets myself into a space of settling, of commitment, of long, long term relationships.  I can offer stability to humans that need a stable place.  This lifestyle offers a different perspective on human life in our current culture.  Its soothing to know that I can rest here, relax, and allow myself to grow old.  It feels good to think about old friends returning after many years, returning to the last place they saw me only to find me still here, stable and welcoming their visit.  Acceptance.  There is an acceptance of things when the place is known, the place I’ve decided to live for the rest of my life.  There may be some discontent with varying aspects of life, but there is an easy, settled acceptance of home, of the surrounding environment.  Its easy to love the tiny Library in the tiny town when I know for sure I will never live in a big city with a huge library.  The town will change over time, but right now I love what it offers to me and the child.  

Mother.  I have decided that I am a good mama.  Done.  I am doing a good job.  I cannot get it wrong.  

I like easy and knowing that I am a good mama frees me of worry and that makes everything easier.  When I am free of worry I am free to find things to appreciate and I am free to receive inspiration.  I am free to stop asking the question which opens up space to be in the moment with my child, holding a space of perfect Love and knowing.  The child can rest when he is around a mama who is sure, who knows clearly that All is Well.  It feels good to think about the child being able to rest in my presence, to live free of worry and bask in his imagination and the Love that flows.  The child and I have access to infinite, perfect Love.  

watch this video

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=On5RYFbcxWY&feature=youtu.be

?

     Property taxes were paid today.  People have handed miguel money for cows and butter over the summer.  I wrote down the amounts and kept track of it.  When property taxes come due, it makes sense to me to pay them using money that people have given for cows and butter.   Miguel keeps the money hidden from me.  Money for cows and butter used to go in to a drawer, and there it was, and when I wanted money for something, I went to the drawer and took money out.  Its been about 3 years now that miguel stopped putting money in the drawer.  Someone comes and buys a cow and they hand the cash to miguel and then its not in the drawer.  I don't know where he puts it.  I just know its not in the drawer anymore.  He never spoke to me about it, he just stopped putting the money in the drawer.  It has worked out fine.  I accept who he is and that as I continue to live here things like this will be as they are.  

    For property taxes this year I gave miguel this written message:

"This farm received $2,400 from Dan for cows.  To pay property taxes for this 120 acres, I offer 30% of that $2,400 or $720.

This farm received $100 from M.T. for butter.  To pay property taxes for this 120 acres, I offer 50% of that $100, or $50.  "

After reading the message, he said somethings about expenses and such.  It seemed that he was not agreeing with my suggestion of how to use the money.  I asked him to write down his idea, as I had written down my idea, then we could talk about it.  This is what he wrote:

"What is the basis to claim any of the income from the cows or even the butter without an account of the other expenses that are part of the expense of raising the cows?  We need to settle your relationship to the farm.  Do you own the cows?  The equipment?  The Hay?  It would help me to feel that I am not just being manipulated and taken advantage of.  Big picture.  You own some of the land.  That means you pay the taxes and have the right to do what you want with 50% of the land.  "

This was my written response:

"The basis to claim 30% of the "income" from cows and butter:  I live and labor here and when people give money for cows and butter, some of that money can be used as I see fit.  I want to use the "income" from the cows and butter to pay the property tax.  No I don't own the cows.  No I don't own the equipment.  No I don't own the hay.  I want you to feel that you are not being manipulated.  It would be wonderful for you to not feel taken advantage of.  Yes.  I want to pay the taxes with part of the money that people gave "us" for cows and butter.  What I want to do with the land is raise cows and make butter.  When someone gives money for cows and butter, I want to use some of that money to pay the PROPERTY TAXES. "

There was no response to this.  The next morning I showed him a written receipt I had made, that I intended to give to him to keep, after he provided me with the $770 cash that he was keeping from the sale of cows and butter.  Receipt:

"Dan from Community Farm gave this farm $2,400 for cows Fern and Clarity.  Kari spent 30% of that money ($720) on property taxes.  The remaining $1680 is under miguel's decision and Kari has zero claim to any of it.  

M.T. gave this farm $100 for butter.  Kari spent 30% of that money ($50) on property taxes.  The remaining $50 is under miguel's decision and Kari has zero claim to any of it.  "

There was no response when he read this.  When chores were done and it was time to go into town, miguel said he was going to go.  I said I wanted to go also.  I said I wanted to have the $770 in my hand and give it to Nick, the Township Treasurer.  After a few minutes, miguel counted out $780 and set it on the table.  I made change for a twenty, gave miguel $10 back and held on to the $770.  We went into town and paid the property taxes.  Then I gave miguel the hand written receipt.  Its done.

    I just want to make this public because its soothing to me, it makes me feel better.  Just like the whole PIG episode, I want to tell my story.  I understand that living with a man who functions in the way people describe as pathological narcissism means that these situations occur.  Part of how I happily share space with him is to write and make public the details of what goes on here.  I am not crazy.  My relationships with other humans are not complicated and uncomfortable because most humans do not function in a way that can be described as pathological narcissism.  I take responsibility for the fact that I continue to live with this man.  I accept that I am putting myself in the position to have experiences like the one described above.  This writing helps me cope.  It soothes me.  I am good at soothing myself.  I take care of myself.  I love living here and have cut down dramatically on the amount of yuck interaction I have with this farm partner.  I am an  inspiration to myself and maybe someone else can find inspiration in what I've been able to do, living with a person like this.  

cats wild

  Miguel gently laughed at me when I suggested that the cats here needed to be fixed.  In his 65 plus years, he had seen many people like me bringing their city ideas out to the farm.  There was no discussion, no explanation of why no, Kari, there won’t be any cats traveling to the vet for surgery.  There was just time.  Time gave me the experience of observing cats in the wild to learn about the creatures they are meant to be.  That’s what my heart has always longed for, its part of what makes me Kari.  I want to see the original.  Show me the way things are without any human influence.  I guess that’s part of what called me here to this place, this farm.  That’s how I feel about how I came to live here on this piece of earth.  I was called.  And I listened.  Miguel’s mother lived here for over 30 years and she transitioned away from her physical body just a few months prior to my first visit.  She found me and guided me here as part of the community that would continue her sanctuary work.  Jane could also see that this place would heal me and that I was worth saving.  So was her son, he was worth saving and she knew the two of us would save each other, support each other’s crazy ideas and work out the pain that was stifling our individual creativity and brilliance.  

Cats were one of the first undoings I experienced here.  There would be many along the way, with many more still to come, but the gentle, loving Universe began deconstructing me with cats.  It seems obvious now, as I sit here having survived many of the undoings.  From my beginning, cats have been a part of the life that needed to be undone.  There are cats in my baby pictures, cats in my first apartment away from home.  Cats have always been in my life and my life has always been in a town, deeply entrenched in human culture, very far from the original, the way things are without any human influence.  That’s why I was never fully human before I came here, I wasn’t living my bliss yet.  Humans need to live their bliss, which means they need to listen to their own unique heart, discover their unusual, specific bliss, and then follow it.  That’s the simplest explanation of how I came to live in this wild place.  Layers of socialization were peeled away until I began to hear my true heart louder than all the noise that had held my attention for so long.  Hearing my true heart felt like truth and honesty and I began to listen.  Listening felt like swimming in the ocean, freedom and vastness of space and wild.  Listening to my true heart led me here to this wild place where more and more layers would be peeled away, revealing clear, beautiful music that was as new to me as it was ancient and familiar.  This place began my undoing or re-birth, my heart revealing, with cats.

Wild cats.  That’s what was happening.  Just like everything else here, the trees and plants, the swamp and all its frogs, birds, and turtles, the night air with all the creatures calling, the wild, original earth.  Wild, original earth and her wild cats.  In this place, cats hunt.  A young girl struggling with the wild cat project recently asked me if there was enough prey to support all the cats that had been dumped off.  Yes, dear friend, yes.  Abundance is mother’s way and this piece of earth is allowed to function in mother’s natural way so Yes, she supplies abundant frogs, crickets, cicadas, baby snakes, birds, toads, and anything a kitty would want to eat.  Observing cats in this wild environment provided me with the confidence to speak to her clearly, to answer her thoughtful questions, and to radiate the truth that calmed her own experience of being undone.  That’s what happens to people sometimes when they come to visit.  A piece of them gets undone and they either fight or relax and allow a layer to be peeled away, revealing their humanness, opening up a space for their unique light to shine just a bit more brilliantly than it could before coming here.  

Doula kitty arrived early on in my time here.  Black and white short hair, sweetest cat you’d ever find, she appeared one day and stayed five years.  Ivy the dog had just left her physical form when Doula kitty joined our strange little family.  In the mornings she walked with us down the lane to get the cows just like Ivy had always done.  There were already a few cats here and Doula fit in nicely, drinking milk in the mornings at the kitty pan in the milk house.  Her life was a gift, a clear demonstration of how cats can exist and thrive on planet earth.  Doula was friendly and I spent hours sitting on the front porch holding her and petting her while her motor purred lusciously in my ear.  She prepared me to be a mother as I intently observed her mama behavior with the kittens she brought forth every year.  Doula eagerly drank milk from the cows and never received any food from the humans here.  I always just assumed she had come here from the herd of black and white cats that lived among the houses near the church about a mile and a half away.  Seemed things got a little crowded down there and we had been blessed by this wonderful creature choosing to share space with us, drink milk, hunt, and provide us with kittens.  There had never been store bought cat food available here but Doula came here and stayed.  She was a wild cat.   

    Brillo chose to live here as determinedly as any creature.  He was a striking animal, all grey short hair, built like any healthy wild Cheetah and comfortable enough around humans to drink milk from the kitty pan and purr in my lap on the front porch.  When a friend looking for a male cat accepted Brillo, I was shocked when the cat was back at the kitty pan a few mornings after his 6 mile car ride.  Brillo clearly did as he pleased and what pleased him was to live in this place.  That's a wild cat.  He came and went for many years, gracing the milk house for a t