Have you ever wished upon a pickle?

Originally written on 10/22/2021

I sat on a picnic table with one of my children who was paralyzed with fears. A body and mind betraying what the soul was crying out for. It would be the beginning a summer and a journey that became and became again. My teen kids and I have been in it. Deeply.

A season of mothering meeting me in the garden, in the kitchen, just where they needed me to be. An anchor as we peeled and learned and I was steadily chopping the harvest, boiling the jars, being right there, as close as they needed.

The stories aren't mine to tell, though I suspect I will be able to share more as time moves on, because the stories are our teachers and the journeys we take often become the mirrors for others walking just shy of our footsteps.

I have been busily working on my next thing. Needing to earn income again after using my savings these last couple of months to be where I was most needed.

Here is the thing. I don't want to create more noise, more hustle. I have so little interest in being relevant, in fact, these last couple years have been not only sobriety from alcohol but from relevancy. So many times I have said, "I am no longer relevant," and thought that I should feel bad about that, instead feeling such peace and joy.

I am the archetypal mother moving gently into her Autumn season which is all about my inner world. This Maga or Priestess archetype inhabiting the space between Mother and Crone.

I'm growing my roots and despite what the world of online business tells us, I will not sacrifice my mental health and myself to make money. I won't sacrifice YOU. I won't produce and produce just to be as relevant as the next.

So for months I've been going back and forth. How can I create a sustainable income and offering to support my family that feels magical and gentle.

How do I sell something when I no longer wish to sell?

How do I move away from things I've taught and spoken about without feeling like I have messed up in my past?

How do I show up and gather in a way that aligns to my soul?

My teen kids and I have been in it, and I've also been in it with myself. A deep transition.

I kept thinking about this moment with Dave and my three year old niece. She kept asking, "Davey, Davey, have you ever wished upon a pickle?"

Not knowing where this reference came from we questioned her a bit.

At one point we said, "Where does wishing upon a pickle come from?"

She looked at us with utter frustration and replied, "From a cucumber."

Of course.

(We later learned it is a Sesame Street reference.)

I keep thinking about it because sometimes the incredibly mystical and wonderous is equally straightforward and obvious and true.

Today my kid did something incredibly uncomfortable to get to the other side of a deep anxiety. When they walked out the door with the other siblings fully supporting and hopeful, and I heard one of the neighbor kids squeal upon seeing him, I laughed alone in the doorway. Then, kids out of sight. I stood with my coffee cup, and I cried.

I cried the kind of tears I cried when each of them went to Kindergarten. I texted each of the dads and said, "He did it."

I took a deep breath, I went to my computer. I finished something I had been working on that makes me uncomfortable because that is only fair.

Then I sat down to write to you.

Because while I needed a break and was called elsewhere, I love it here. I love weaving words and being a storyteller and I am believing that the obvious and true and the mystical and wonderous live inside all of us.

A woman stopped my van in the parking lot of a store and asked me to roll down my window. She asked me if I rode horses because of my hat (the one pictured above). I laughed and said, "No, I just really really love hats."

She laughed back. We didn't connect around horses but instead a smile, a laugh, a stranger trusting another human.

I'm filled with stories. I'm making green tomato jam. I have three hours before I have to pick up my kid, the one that did the uncomfortable thing. Then another couple hours before two more come home. Then another couple hours before I pick up my college kid from the train.

I'm wishing upon a pickle today.