give me your hand


God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.

These are the words we dimly hear:

You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.

Flare up like a flame
and make big shadows I can move in.

Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don’t let yourself lose me.

Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.

Give me your hand

~ Rilke
(translated by Joanna Macy)

my❤ becky

don’t drink the water


dear ones,

With all the dualities that have surfaced the past few weeks, I’m reeling and feeling terribly sad and deflated, perhaps like you. I’m trying to make sense of this all, but I’m failing and hurting. Let’s give each other some love and a tender holding through the powers of technology, can we?! ❤

A friend of mine is at the Sacred Stone Camp in North Dakota, where the Dakota Access Pipeline  is being built. He’s been there for months now, peacefully holding space with thousands of other brothers and sisters trying to protect the waterways between North Dakota and Illinois, to remind the government of our promise to the Lakota (a Native American word that means friend) people: that we would not desecrate their land again. Dakota Access Pipeline workers are striving to tear up the earth to install a four-state long gas pipeline, that will run through reservation land, and federal land that has been discovered to be sacred burial ground for Dakota, Nakota and Lakota people.

And yet in some bizarre twist the gas industry has called in police to silence and remove the peaceful protesters–including actress Shailene Woodley–so grateful to her because her celebrity has actually brought this situation to mainstream media and hence to more concerned citizens. Shouldn’t it be the Native American people call upon the Police to remove the business who should not be there tearing up the land???!!

Amy Goodman–my journalistic heroine–has now been arrested for covering the story in ND last month on her program Democracy Now (DirecTV station Link 375). You may have seen the atrocious video–viral on Facebook–where private guards unleashed dogs to attack the peaceful protestors, many of whom are Native American. Well, she too has been arrested, despite the first amendment right supposedly assuring freedom of press. Most other media outlets haven’t covered ANY of this story. I’m so grateful to Ms. Goodman and her team for their courageous coverage and encounters with the crazed guards, who manipulated and mistreated the dogs is such horrific and terrifying ways.

Dear God. Dear Readers… dear Humans! This is happening in America. These are nightmares in real life.

I’m saying prayers for Indigenous people who our government is failing to protect, and now violating, yet again. I’m praying for the peaceful water protectors. I’m saying prayers for the gasline workers. I am saying prayers for ALL our media. I am praying for us all. Dear God, please help us put people above profit. Please help us to find courage to make harder decisions that support human and planetary health and well being, to EVOLVE past bank accounts. Please help us humans to figure this out, peacefully, in our own country. Please. :(  Please help us to end the suffering. Please help President Obama deliver an executive order to protect this land and the Native American peoples’ beliefs, to uphold promises that have been broken top many times, and have the gasline company leave Mother Earth alone and invest the money and workers they are spending on harming the earth and humans, instead towards bio-remediative solutions to oil.  Please God, help stop greed. Please save us from ourselves.

Dave Matthews Band performed at Sacred Stone Camp last week, including this song. Don’t drink the water.  The words are haunting. I cannot believe we are doing this again, not only to our Native American citizens, but also to ourselves.

Blood in the Water, by Dave Matthews
Come out come out
No use in hiding
Come now come now
Can you not see?
There’s no place here
What were you expecting
Not room for both
Just room for meSo you will lay your arms down
Yes I will call this homeAway away
You have been banished
Your land is gone
And given me

And here I will spread my wings
Yes I will call this home

What’s this you say?
You feel a right to remain?
Then stay and I will bury you

What’s that you say
Your father’s spirit still lives in this place
I will silence you

Here’s the hitch
Your horse is leaving
Don’t miss your boat
It’s leaving now

And as you go I will spread my wings
Yes I will call this home

I have no time to justify to you
Fool, you’re blind, move aside for me
All I can say to you my new neighbor
Is you must move on or I will bury you

Now as I rest my feet by this fire
Those hands once warmed here
I have retired them
I can breathe my own air
I can sleep more soundly
Upon these poor souls
I’ll build heaven and call it home
Cause you’re all dead now

I live with my justice
I live with my greedy need
I live with no mercy
I live with my frenzied feeding
I live with my hatred
I live with my jealousy
I live with the notion
That I don’t need anyone but me

Don’t drink the water
Don’t drink the water
There’s blood in the water
Don’t drink the water

Most often I write here in efforts to elevate my own consciousness, and align my intentions with my actions, and perhaps to offer to you–dear reader–something uplifting to read or think about. Tonight’s post is intended to help me more deeply activate the pain of knowing how profoundly unjust and wrong this is, and how this is not what America stands for. And perhaps to bring this inequitable unfolding situation to your attention. While I am choosing not to go out there and stand physically with my friends and other Water Protectors, perhaps my sharing here is a form of solidarity, to offer some meaning to you, and hold space and hope for loving and healing solutions that are overdue, and hopefully on their way.

Forgive us our greed, dear God. Forgive us our broken promises, dear Lakota, Nakota and Dakota Nations. Please help us humans. Dear beloved teacher and friend, Chief Billy Diamond, send in your angels, dear Brother.

my heart is trampled and lost and grateful in these words, and the idea that tonight like all nights before, I sleep in the safety of my home, with clean running water…

❤ becky

controlling democracy



Dear Ones,

Lately I’ve been thinking about Democracy… what does democracy mean to America collectively, but more specifically what democracy means to how I live day-to-day?
I believe in ‘personal democracy’. To me this means I try to live with an intention to reduce suffering of those around me somehow, to do things to promote equality, listening, and kindness– for humans and our beautiful planet.
I have so much I need to learn around these intentions, but thankfully I do not feel despair, trapped or limited by what will happen politically in our country in one month’s time. Choosing to live my own personal definition and values of democracy is liberating and is so much more significant to me than an election or politicians because “I” am the only person I have the ability to control or change. Ultimately I’ve got to do some hard stuff myself. I’m trying. I’m learning. I want things to change, but it’s got to start with me.

just thinking and sharing…. what do YOU think about personal democracy?

❤ becky


love something into existence

Dear Ones,

I have held a seed of a story a secret in my heart for some two years now. I created a few heART-ful images two years ago, that I made into cards and necklaces. Today I colorized a drawing that had remained a black outlined coloring page for all this time.


For the past 10 days I carried this teeny little book I am attempting to fill with words, beauty, love, humor and whimsy– aspiring to become a bigger book– a gift for my 7-year-old Sonshine. It’s a little story about a special little bird.

Earlier this year I told a group of 1st graders about the story’s main character–Joybird. I told them how our imaginations can make so many things, including books. The children are now 2nd graders, and they continue to remind and ask me if Joybird ready for them yet? (I feel more pressure and anxiety about this than if I was on deadline for a publisher!) Gulp. What did I do?!

Joybird needs to fly, and I’ve run out energy to believe in my excuses.


And now double gulp, I am sharing my position with YOU right now, in an effort to support and encourage YOU and that special secret something in YOU that also needs to fly. What is it? Do tell!

I read a lot of books about creativity. Most recently I re-read Lewis Hyde’s classic The Gift: Creativity and the Artist in the Modern World.  I came across this gem, that I want to share with you, in case it can inspire YOU to begin making, writing, illustrating or painting that special something YOU want to love into existence, something that perhaps YOU have carried for a long while.

“An essential portion of any artist’s labor is not creation so much as invocation. Part of the work cannot be made, it must be received; and we cannot have this gift except, perhaps by supplication, by courting, by creating within ourselves that “begging bowl” to which the gift is drawn.”  ~ Lewis Hyde

Yes, dearhearts…. it is time for us to SHINE and take a little time to indulge and express our creativity, and open up our begging bowl to invoke the creative muse to arrive before us. Risk ourselves. And let’s finally do it!

I’m here for you. If you want to bounce ideas off me, phone or skype with me, whatever it is, let’s support each other on a new creative adventure. email me.

I have a lot of gremlins: Voices in my head striving to convince me of my illustrative inadequacies. I don’t want to believe them. It doesn’t matter if my gremlins don’t love what is about to happen. It only matters to trust myself, and allow the space and time to love this gift and let it come into being! A gift for my son. (If he likes it, maybe I’ll share with his school friends too. If he doesn’t, at the very least I will have spent time ignoring and renouncing my gremlins, and loosening their grip on me perhaps freeing me up for yet another new creative venture?!) Roar!

honoring YOUR de-gremlinizer superpowers, together let’s do this!
my love,
❤ becky

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one voice


hello dear ones,

i’ve wanted to share this for a long time. it’s the recording of the first time my daughters and I sang together for ears and joy, other than our own.

recorded a few months ago, a sweet dream came true.

music and my daughters: two of my great and greatest loves. together we shared time and space to sing something beautiful into existence. I first heard this song when my girls were wee. when i heard it i dreamed of this possibility, and I am so grateful this happened. (i wonder if my daughters will never know how much this meant and means to me?!)

song: one voice. written by Ruth Moody of The Wailin’ Jennys. accompanied by friend/pianist Cindy Bizzell.

i’m deeply grateful for this moment: the chance to sing with my incredible daughters–my teachers–who raise me perhaps more than I am raising them. (i love you dear girls, with all of me.)

shared with our love–and our love of music.
❤ the Joybirds xoxoxo