Tag: love

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sleigh bells and rudolph

I am one of those people who generally dislike Christmas music. There are a number of reasons. The first big one is that there are so few new Christmas songs, so we get inundated with the same ten or so songs in multiple variations. Do we really need every single recording artist to record Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer?

Then there’s the fact that everywhere you go, you get slammed with that music non-stop. Gone are the contemporary songs that stores usually play. I probably would like Christmas music better if it was one song out of five, rather than wall to wall Drummer Boy and Frosty the Snowman.

Of course, the fact that so much of the traditional Christmas music is based in a religion I left decades ago. Nothing against those songs per se, just not my thing, you know?

There’s also my disdain for false cheer, forced happy endings and the like. It’s one of the reasons I don’t watch Christmas movies too. Or romance. My music tastes are varied and wide, but my comfort music is generally dark and loud. There’s a reason I clean house to stuff from artists like Halestorm, Dorothy, Flogging Molly, etc.

Today is the day that my disdain starts to dissipate though. Starting on Christmas Eve, I am much more amenable to the stuff. I may even turn on some alternative stuff today while I’m packing or cleaning. We’ll see.

And tomorrow I have no problems with it, at least in small doses. As long as it is background noise, and not taking over the whole affair. But I feel that way about most music, if I’m spending time with others. Alone, I crank it up though. In other words, it’s almost time to be Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.

Whatever you celebrate, whatever you believe, whoever you love, I am sending you all my love this holiday season, Readers. Give yourself a hug from me.

Photo by Norman Tsui on Unsplash

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the art of the heart

How does one sum up a weekend like this one? Every time I try, my mind fills with a kaleidoscope of images that cover a spectrum of beautiful faces, bright colors, book covers, poetry and prose, rainbow hair and amazing costumes.

It seems strange to me that I haven’t always known these people, that it has only been 5 years since my first Sirens conference.

Every year I am able to come to Sirens, I learn new things and I meet new friends. Inspiration abounds, whether it comes in the form of one of the panels / papers, or in a conversation with friends, or one of the Guest of Honor speeches.

So many artists, with so many kinds of arts! Not just writers…we have people who paint and draw and crochet and knit and cross stitch (and other fiber arts). This is most evident on Saturday night at the Sirens Ball, where participants are encouraged to dress for the theme, and the silent auction tables are filled with amazing prints, jewelry, wood working, clothing, scarves and more.

I have a good amount of imposter syndrome when I walk in (and at other times), but it usually melts with the first hug from a fellow author who’s work I adore. This year I forced myself out of my agoraphobic paralysis and actually had conversations with our Guests of Honor (and they were all lovely).

There is beauty in a place that not only accepts you for who you are, but embraces you for it, where you are free to be entirely and unapologetically yourself. Where your beauty is not defined by the size of your body or the shape of your face…where we paint the landscape around us with the art of our hearts and revel in our resistance to the mundane.

But all good things must end, and I have already dropped folks at the airport, checked out of the hotel and am waiting for it to be time to drop my luggage. Then, I will find a place where I can plug in my charger and do some writing/editing.

Tomorrow we go back to the daily grind, and the beautiful land we created from our imaginations will fade slowly back into just a memory that we can pull out when we need to be reminded that we are wonder and joy and fierce.

Until next year, Sirens…I will keep you in my heart until we meet again.

Photo by Tim Marshall on Unsplash

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national coming out day

Today is October eleventh and has been designated National Coming Out Day, a day to celebrate the diversity of life and the idea that we are all welcome in the world.

Of course, there are still many, many places in the world, and even here in the good ole USofA, where being open about who and how you love is not a safe thing to do. Far too many.

I have a lot of friends in the LGBTQ+ community who have been bullied, thrown out of their homes, lost their children in custody battles, or worse. We need only look at the numbers of transgender murder victims to know that it isn’t always safe.

I have been noticing just recently how many of the TV shows I watch have incorporated LGBTQ+ characters as “normal” characters. They’re not there to be the victim or the perpetrator, they are actual integral parts of the story. Notable for me of late are Leverage Redemption, who has a young lesbian of color and also has several story lines with gay people involved, Law and Order SVU, who had a young detective who was a lesbian and Law and Order Organized Crime, which has a police sergeant who is a married lesbian.

This is our way forward. We need to be seen as a part of the whole. We need to be visible in ways that extend beyond pride parades.

One day, I hope we no longer need a National Coming Out Day. I hope that we can just be who we are without needing to justify ourselves or protect ourselves from those that would deny us our rights.

In the meantime, I’m Natalie and I am bi/pansexual (I haven’t decided between the terms, but lean toward pan).

And you are loved.

Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

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what matters is now

For a long time, in my teens and early twenties, I was sure that we would see the end of the world in my lifetime. Part of me clung to science fiction in what I only now recognize as hope that I was wrong, or some unacknowledged notion that even if Armageddon was to happen, some part of who we are, the best parts of who we are if I’m using Star Trek as an example, would live on outside the scenario I was taught.

Even after I learned my way out of that fear, and out of that particular flavor of Christianity, I maintained a love of sci-fi and in particular dystopian stories. The little spark of hope, that even if the worst of humanity prevailed, something good could remain was a driving factor in what and how I changed myself.

I’ve traveled a lot of roads spiritually and academically since then, and what I believe has changed and grown as I did. In some ways, the more I learn, the more I question, and I am less sure of a good deal many things than I have ever been.

One thing I do know, however, is that what I believe about where we come from, what comes after this life, whether or not there is a god or gods, does not define how I live my life. I no longer believe that my eternity rests on a belief, or on a specific god or on a specific ritual. Or, if it does, I am not interested in it at least.

What matters to me is this life. How I live now. How I treat others now. How I grow and learn now. Love and kindness are what motivate me, both for how I approach the world and how I approach myself.

We’re here, on this earth, now. This is what matters.

Those are my thinky thoughts for this Sunday morning, Readers! I hope you are well and that your life is filled with love and kindness. I’m off into the world of The Blood Witch with my Death Wish coffee in hand.

Photo by Marek Piwnicki on Unsplash

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do we still need pride in 2021

In any “normal” year, I would already be hard at work on the site of the SF Pride celebration, working with my team to deploy donation buckets out to the groups that man our gates to collect money from Pride goers.

That money goes into helping to keep Pride running, as well as giving grants to the non-profit organizations who send us their volunteers to do the job. It’s a job I’ve been doing in one capacity or another for the last…I don’t know anymore? Fifteen years?

You might think that it’s an odd job choice for someone with agoraphobia, and you’d be correct. It is. However, I learned early on in my battle against the irrational fear that having a job to do, having people who count on me to do that job, goes a long way in pushing the fear back.

When I first started working Pride with the Pagan Alliance all those years ago, I started off volunteering to supervise PA volunteers, but the Pride Donations department was just starting up a program to have coordinators who worked behind the scenes and I tossed my hat into the ring. Since then, I’ve been part of the team that did the work.

It provides me with a safe space when the crowds are overwhelming, and a task that needs doing to allow me the push I need to conquer the fear…or at least keep it at bay. It helps that it also includes a golf cart for part of the day, which affords me a little bubble of space around me.

All of that said, this is our second year without the event due to this damn pandemic. It just isn’t safe to cram that many people into that space, even now…even here in California where our numbers are way down.

I’ve heard a lot lately about why we still need Pride. We need Pride so that our community knows that we have their back. We need Pride because our transgender siblings are still being murdered at an alarming rate. We need Pride because our people are still facing discrimination in jobs, housing and even just in shopping. We need Pride because we need to lift each other up and help each other along.

In recent years we’ve started to realize just how many LGBTQA+ folks exist in this world, and it’s a lot more than we used to believe. I have a large number of non-binary and ace friends and family that ten years ago would not have felt safe to be who they are in the open…or even realized that there was a name for what they were feeling. I have transgender friends and family that have “come out” in the last five years, who are finally starting to feel that there is a place in this world where they don’t have to pretend.

So when will it be enough to not need a big gay celebration and parade? Never. It will never be “enough”. We should always celebrate who we are.

May this Pride weekend be filled with love and appreciation for who you are, Reader. May you feel safe to live your truth out and proud. May you make space for others to do the same. I love you all!

Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash

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…for the love of words…

I love words.

I love long words, short words, weird words. I love unusual words and common words. I love combinations of words that absolutely, perfectly describe something or someone.

I love twisting words around until they come out just right.

I’ve been drawn to words and how we use them to communicate since I was a child. I learned to read rather young and I loved to immerse myself into the worlds of the books I read. Then I learned that I could write my own worlds, create my own stories with the words that I loved.

As is true of anyone, my first attempts at that were…shall we say, not good. From my juvenile poetry to my first attempts at short stories and even novels, my love of words only grew, and fortunately, my use of them improved over time.

Today, I hold in my hands a book of poetry…my poetry. Words that I wrestled with, slept with, scribbled out onto loose leaf paper or the back of receipts, words that I typed out in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep until I got them down.

There is a satisfaction in this project that is a little different to any of the novels I have published. It is more intimate, because these words often come from deep within my understanding of who I am.

And, I love who I am. I hope you will join me on this journey. Find your copy at Amazon or other online retailers. May this Tuesday serve you well and bestow kindness upon you, Readers.

Photo by Jeremy Beck on Unsplash

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merry christmas to all…

Today is the first day of over a week off of the day job. This means I get to write every day until the words stop flowing. This pleases me.

Tomorrow will be time spent with my immediate family, who are the only people I have spent any time with at all during this pandemic. There won’t be any hugs and a lot less touching than any Christmas before this one, but there will be good food and good company, possibly fun games and maybe some wine.

I haven’t celebrated a religious Christmas in many years, but the secular one has always been meaningful to me as an opportunity to show family how much I love them through food and gifts. I tend to cook from scratch for the special days, depending on what we’re doing for a main course.

My holy day has come and gone, and was mostly observed with candles, an offering of wine and some solemn contemplation of the year that has raked us over the coals. I, for one, am looking forward to the end of this year, this decade.

I hope Santa brings you something you desire. I hope that you give others the love that lives inside you. I hope you get some sleep, something yummy to eat and the feeling of knowing you are loved.

Merry Christmas, Readers!

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put a little love in your heart

My faith in humanity has been sorely damaged in 2020. I try to believe that people are inherently good, that for the most part we would all do what we can to spare others pain, illness or death. Here lately though, I’m finding it hard to hold on to that belief.

For the last twenty years or so, the guiding force of my life has been kindness, unconditional love for my fellow man. I believe that it is my duty to help care for others, to at the very least not be the cause of their pain.

I look around me at the world and I can’t understand where the absolute disregard for others comes from. How do you reach adulthood without some semblance of compassion?

Where does the fury come from? How is this who we are as a country? As we slink closer to 300,000 people dead from a virus that we can control, why are we not doing it? Why is the outrage about measures to control it rather than about the number of American citizens are dead and dying? How many deaths will it take for us to realize that the simple steps of wearing a mask in the presence of others, keep yourself distant from others, stay home if you can are not evil machinations attempting to rob you of your civil liberty.

They are meant to save lives! If you can not wear a mask, for real or imaginary reasons, most places that require one will do no-touch curb side delivery. Just order online, drive up and get what you need put into your trunk.

There is no need to demand to enter a building of any kind without your mask. There is no need to harass store employees, or threaten them with a bad interpretation of what the ADA actually is. These are people who are working minimum wage jobs that put them in a very high risk category for catching this virus. They are there to help you.

My heart weeps. Please put a little love in your heart. Save lives.

Cover Photo by Aung Soe Min on Unsplash

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the one with the bird

We, here in the US, are barreling into the holiday season with a pandemic and a recession riding shotgun. Or maybe they’re driving and we’re just along for the ride. Either way, it feels like death is hovering over what is meant to be a festive time with family and friends.

I’m not the biggest fan of the overly commercialized monstrosities that Thanksgiving and Christmas have become here in the US, though I will admit that having a couple days off work to spend with family is important to me.

I’d be remiss to throw myself fully into Thanksgiving without acknowledging the inherent problems with the holiday, but I can do that and still sit it gratitude for the life I have and the family that has helped me achieve that life.

We’ve never had huge family get-togethers because our family isn’t huge. It’s generally my mother, my brother and his wife, their two daughters and myself. I’ve been isolating, they’ve been isolating (where possible) and still it feels a little bit off as I get prepared for tomorrow.

I will be making up some dinner rolls and a green bean dish (not casserole…a tastiness of bacon, green beans, garlic, mushrooms) as my contributions to dinner, and we’ll sit around a table full of good food and our little family and tell stories about favorite holiday memories, the same ones we tell every year. I think we’re past the point of Thanksgiving food fights (though that is a very favorite memory for my brother, mother and I…I think I was sixteen that year) to relieve some of the tension of life, and we probably won’t have another epic Cards Against Humanity session this year again, but there will be love at that table.

And that is my wish for you too, Readers, that there be love at your table. Please be safe. There were more than two thousand deaths from Covid-19 yesterday. Don’t take chances with your lives, or the lives of those you love.

Cover Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

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#vote

Tomorrow is the big day. Election day. We’ve seen record breaking turn outs to early voting and absentee/mail in voting, but that is no reason to get complacent. It is our duty, as American citizens, and in a time like ours not one of us can take that duty lightly.

This election cycle is more make or break than any I can remember. In the last four years our country has become more divided, more broken than I have ever seen. We are divided racially, ethnically, politically, religously and by hatred. In many cases it is a hatred that has been foisted upon us, or drug out of our inner psyche to be put on display.

Somehow, we’ve given permission to our baser selves to be brazenly angry about differences, about changes and about something as simple a concept as equality. We seem to find it easier to demonize those we see as enemies, call them names and deny them basic human dignity.

But we shouldn’t make ourselves feel better about ourselves at the expense of others. We don’t need to deny other people rights to keep those rights for ourselves. As someone once said, it isn’t pie.

I’ve seen more racism, ageism, ableism, sexism and hate of the LGBTQ+ community in the last four years than I can actually believe existed four years ago. Hate is contagious, and it is spreading faster than the coronavirus.

But tomorrow we have the ability to stand up and make it known that hate has no home here. It might be our last chance.

I won’t elaborate on all the various ways the person who is supposed to be leading us has instead worked to destroy us, there are plenty of other people doing that. Instead, my focus is on healing us, as a country. Our first step is to vote out those who foster and stoke the fires of hate, who pit us against each other so we won’t notice that they are robbing us blind.

Vote as if your life depended on it, because it might. Vote as if your BIPOC neighbors lives depend on it, because they do. Vote as if your gay brother’s marriage is on the line, because it is. Vote, not with the hate they want you to feel, but with the love you have for your family and your country.

If you haven’t already cast your vote, I hope you have a plan to get to the polls tomorrow. I hope you make it a priority in your day.

Above all, I wish you kindness and joy, Readers. Kindness and joy.

Cover Photo by Glen Carrie on Unsplash