spirituality – The Hermits' Rest

Inspired by brave Christians

Who are you most inspired by?

Lately I’ve been noticing more and more Texas Christians coming out of hiding and talking openly about how they feel betrayed and bullied by churches that instill fear more than faith, pit people against each other, and conveniently ignore teachings of Jesus.

No illustrations for this, but Penney looking at a Devil costume headband adds a note of humor to my religious post.

I’ve known many of these ethical people who lead lives I admire during my life, but they’ve been drowned out by louder voices. That’s why it’s refreshing to see Christians whose moral compasses align more with mine speaking out.

The woman I reviewed the book of last week, Keith Brown, admitted she’d been duped by a cult and emerged ready to live openly as someone who listens to her true spiritual leader.

I’m also impressed with the bravery and commitment of James Talarico, for whom I plan to vote in the Texas senatorial race in November. He’s such a good guy that his corrupt opponent can’t find anything real to pick on him about. I’m sure he is imperfect, since he’s human, but listening to this ministry student speak kindly about all people of Texas, as Jesus would, and speak intelligently about issues we all care about makes me proud to have someone to vote FOR, not against.

And in a surprising twist, I discovered that Clint Harp, a Waco craftsman I used to enjoy when he worked with Chip and Joanna Gaines, was not a secret Homestead Heritage shill, just because those people were featured prominently in his Restoration Road series (which I love anyway). He and Kelly, his wife, have started a podcast called On Couch with Clint and Kelly Harp. The first episode was a candid and open discussion of how important supporting LGBTQIA+ people is to them. They talk about how their Southern Baptist upbringing instilled fear in them of even acknowledging gays. They portray a kind of Christianity where all people deserve a good life and the blessings of their faith. (Also Clint was at a Talarico rally!)

These inspirational folks represent the kind of world I was hoping I’d get to live in, where Christians model love and acceptance, other spiritual paths are celebrated, and those of us who are more on the earth-based path aren’t treated as pariahs. I have a little more hope.

By the way, this is the most positive thing I’ve ever written about Christianity, so I’m grateful to these folks (and of course other dear friends and family whose spiritual practices I admire).

Book Report: Counterfeit Culture

My friend Kathy in Waco lent me this book, Counterfeit Culture, by Keith Brown (3025). when I told her we’d checked out the Homestead Heritage place near there. Her church book club had read it, and it’s definitely a book with a Christian perspective and loaded with Bible quotes.

Keith Brown and her husband, Curtis, are the reason that facility is in Waco, because they provided the money to buy the land where all the Homestead Heritage stores and workshops are located. They were members of the “community” for thirty years before finally leaving.

If you’re interested in how sincere, intelligent people can get sucked into a cult with the best of intentions, you’ll find Brown’s book enlightening. Her personality and early life resemble mine, so I’m glad the only “cult” I nearly got sucked into was La Leche League in its worst years.

It’s pretty impressive that Brown has been able to forgive herself for her mistakes, apologize to her 9 (yikes!) children, and keep her marriage. The fact that she was able to keep her religious convictions also impresses me. She was able to see the loving God and forgiving Jesus that could give her strength. She points out that most people who leave Homestead Heritage reject religion. I can understand that.

Life in the group is exactly how you’d think a cult life would be. There are many good aspects, but there’s always a powerful leader and minions that use fear and intimidation to keep members in line. The rules kept changing, so you could do something that was right last week but elicit a reprimand this week. Worse, it sounded to me like how Communist China used to be, where people tattled on each other constantly, even family members.

Poor Keith Brown had to completely erase her outgoing personality and ways of thinking. I’ve only had to do that a little bit and for not too long and it gave me anxiety attacks. I am impressed she made it through to escape.

And by the way, the group buys most of the food it sells from standard sources, even the wheat. Sniff. I liked the gristmill. Almost all the members live in mobile homes bought by the group, too.

The book confirmed my fears that no utopian community stays that way long. And it opened my eyes to their finances, which involved a lot of borrowing during the years the Browns were there. I don’t know if it’s different now.

And still, if people are happy with the good aspects of Homestead Heritage and enjoy living there, I’m glad for them. They probably think I’ve been indoctrinated by crazy liberal ideas. I just wish power hungry despots didn’t end up requiring loyalty oaths and total obedience, there or here on the outside.

You can find the book on bookshop.org.

Feeling Lighter

I said yesterday that the light was coming, and I really felt it today, and not just because we’re halfway between the winter solstice and spring equinox! Not that I’m complaining that the sun is setting later, because I enjoyed the sunset and full moon tonight.

I just feel lighter and a little more positive after a few small pieces of good news, and I enjoyed good conversations with friends again. I need to keep this friendliness streak going! It’s hard when most of your friends trend towards the hermit lifestyle just like we do.

Our friends Martha and Mike, who often invite themselves to Sunday dinner, struggle like Lee and I do to make the effort, but we all praise Martha for making the rest of us spend time together. At least we admit our struggles to each other. You feel lots less alone when you figure out we all have challenges to push through.

Red hat. It fits. It’s warm. I’m trendy.

All in all I enjoyed my day of finishing my red solidarity hat, donning my Imbolc t-shirt, and gazing at the candles on my Brigid altar.

I was even able to spend a little time birding once it warmed up a little, since it was sunny and calm. A Belted Kingfisher flew right over my head! Now it has to warm up enough for me to sit out and see the Bald Eagle that’s hanging out here.

I can’t miss the turkeys though. Darryl Junior really wants to fly, and his legs pound the dirt like a herd of elephants as he runs and flaps his wings. Good exercise, I guess! Both the birds and horses seem glad for the slight warming trend. Tomorrow should be practically balmy, at least in the 60s.

And here’s January 2026 in its cooler glory.

Enough rambling for one day. I’m all rested and ready to tackle another work week.

Here’s my funky candle collection on the hearth. At least I decorated for a holiday!

Obstacles

One of the rocks I painted paraphrases Marcus Aurelius, the Stoic philosopher. It’s an idea that I lean on when challenges arise: the obstacle is the way.

My spouse bases much of his ethical foundation on Stoicism, and I also find that way of thinking helpful. Life is a series of challenges that you face as best as you can, while acknowledging that you can’t solve every problem. That works.

But I also stop to relish the beauty on that path.

I got a little solar lamp as my white elephant gift at the Master Naturalist holiday event. I hung it up near the birding station. It’s a dim beacon, but it will show me the way when I want to sit outside at night (but it won’t confuse birds). It reiterates in my mind what I keep hearing from many sources, which is not to give up when there’s still a dim ray of hope, even if in the end, you fail. Now that made me think of Anne Frank and get all weepy.

Keep being the light of hope, kindness, and caring for those around you.

Making Up for Scary Days

The two most frightening days of my adult life are remembered by dates. One is 911. I still have dreams of being lost at O’Hare airport and can hear in my mind the sound of my plane’s captain telling us his colleagues and many others had just perished. I had the same feeling of living a nightmare on January 6, 2021. I can’t remember why I was watching a news channel then, but I was. I was terrified that the mob would kill lawmakers or burn down the US Capitol. I guess I expected terrorists to act that way, but not our citizens.

Today I did not forget. I saw it with my own eyes. It was real.

What’s also real is that there are millions of good, kind, ethical and law-abiding people in this country. I will not forget that, either. I had conversations all day that reminded me of it. I was reminded of how much we have in common, even if we grew up in different places. I was reminded of how even folks with values unlike mine mostly try to be good people, even if they don’t quite hit the mark (thinking of Mom).

I also discovered that I don’t have to think every person is a “good guy” for them to matter. People do awful things. They do. I can be disgusted by things people say and do but still see their humanity. Sounds simple but it’s hard for me to get my head around. Like my coworker’s grandmother said, “everybody’s a little crazy.” All of us.

I felt good today wearing my “You matter” shirt and painting good intentions into poorly lettered Reminder Rocks. it helped me send out positive thoughts, energy, intentions, or vibes even on this scary day. I kept channeling acceptance until I felt okay.

If we stick together in spite of our differences maybe we can turn this country into a less scary place, one kindness at a time. And even if we don’t, we can’t say we didn’t try.

Good Things Balanced by a Passing

I fell asleep last night before I could blog anything. That’s fine, because yesterday I mostly recuperated from the camping trip. The highlight of that day was discovering that the trim on my birding station was completed! I was so relieved to see all the naked wood painted red AND the pile of leftover wood gone! I think they are going to paint the hardie plank too, but it looks fine as it is.

That’s a cute little hut, and I use it every day!

I also got a gift from Connie. I guess Darryl got her into reproductive mode. It’s weird to me that all the lady birds decided to resume laying around the solstice. They are supposed to start around the equinox. Perhaps the extra warm weather has fooled them. (ETA: I said this yesterday, too. I guess it excited me.)

This morning, before I took my walk, I helped Lee replenish the horses’ hay. The horses didn’t make it any easier. Drew was running around trying to bite everyone until Dusty finally kicked him with both rear hooves. Way to go, old man! And Spice politely stayed out of the way right until she really needed to move, so Lee ended up bonking her with the hay ring. She lived.

We’re all keyed up after Drew was biting everyone

So that’s life around here. I did want to note the passing of a woman who had a huge influence on my development as a human, a feminist, and a fiber artist: Barbara G. Walker. During my most confused period of life, my twenties, I discovered her collections of knitting stitches and poured myself into designing garments as an escape. She was an incredibly meticulous researcher (she also wrote about crystals and other topics).

Then one day I went to the bookstore in the University of Illinois campus to get another volume of her knitting. While there, I wandered over to the spirituality section, because I’d been wondering what a feminist religion would look like. I found The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets, the result of her research into goddesses and other female-centered concepts. However, I didn’t realize she was the author until I got back to the student break room in the linguistics department and looked at the covers. I ran to find Georgia, my advisor and fellow knitting feminist to show her. I was so happy.

I read that entire book (probably when I should have been reading about pragmatics) every night before falling asleep, slowly but surely healing some of the wounds I felt from patriarchal religion. Walker sent me on my way to discovering Starhawk and other authors and helping me learn I wasn’t alone.

I’ll always be grateful to Barbara G. Walker. I still treasure her books, especially The Skeptical Feminist, which is out of print. Read more about it in this blog from a few years ago.

I’ve been reading tributes to her. I wasn’t the only one who had an epiphany when they realized she wrote both feminism and knitting. She lives on in our memories.

Holidays Handled

When I had a nuclear family and when I had my children, I was one of those women who bought into the cultural norm of making my family happy for Christmas, just like my mom had done for me. She worked so hard with little money but much creativity.

Pretend there are cigarette ashes on the floor and this will be mom-like.

I fretted over decorations, presents, food, and such. I spent a lot of money on things I hoped would make people happy. Shoot, the year after my divorce, I gave my ex presents to set up a household (which he never used, but that’s another story). The point is I felt that I was showing my love through material things. And rather too much of it. I think it’s because I felt loved at Christmas as a child when I got my gifts. Not everyone else is me, though.

This aspect of my personality has been hard to mollify. Even when I saw gifts I’d worked hard to select never used, even when my children didn’t give me anything for birthdays, Valentines, or Christmas. But I finally worked through my “love language problem,” and ended the excess. Much backsliding has occurred in recent years, but since my sister and older son cut ties with us, my motivation to create good holidays has plummeted.

Now I can enjoy the parts of midwinter, the solstice, and the dark nights how I want to, with introspection and gratitude for what I do have, which is much.

It’s made this time of year much less stressful to no longer decorate the heck out of the house, spend hours looking for gifts, etc. I now enjoy spending time around the holidays with people who care about me and am fine without a big gathering. I enjoy going camping or staying in a cabin and receiving the gift of time with Lee, my son, and his partner.

For Yule, I’ve made gifts for the family that come from my heart. They can keep them, toss them, or whatever. I got joy from making the gifts and putting good intentions into them. That feels great. I’ve reached a good place of genuine good spirits and caring. No more grumpy Suna in a frenzy of materialistic capitalism.

This is idealized me as a happy angel with a grumpy angel trying to tempt me. I’m not sure how well I like the work of the “image playground.”

My hope is that each of you get the opportunity to do something that pleases YOU during the winter holidays. If you enjoy decorating, decorate! Or make cookies! Or buy great gifts! Or ponder your nativity scene and its meaning in your tradition. Just don’t fall too far into my trap of trying to make others happy.

Handling the holidays works best when everyone has some traditions to enjoy and time to share them with those who love and appreciate them.

Happy to Stay Right Here

How much would you pay to go to the moon?

Nah. I have no need to go to the moon. I like it where it is and me where I am. All the lunar romance, metaphor, and legend falls away when you view the moon as a large cratered hunk of rock. I do think it’s amazing that our moon is the exact right size to create eclipses, though. That is one thing that makes me wonder if there’s an intelligent designer of the universe. Maybe the only thing…

…meanwhile, back in my little spot on Gaia, Mother Nature has taken on a benevolent aspect, at least for a time, and graced us with rain not just one, but two nights in a row! Yesterday’s total was over two inches, and tonight it’s rained hard for quite a while. There was a little water in the creek today. I look forward to seeing how our tanks look tomorrow.

But during the day, it was pleasant, which enabled me to get my eyes examined right in Cameron, Texas (what a luxury), which included interesting conversations on current events where I just listened. I rewarded myself with a visit to the bakery for a nice sticky bun. Mmm.

No photo of a bun, but here’s a Great Egret in a tree.

I’d thought my next task, getting Apache ready for a lesson, would be quick and easy. I was mistaken. I now have all dark gray horses, the exact color of our dirt. Apache had really been getting into his mud spa treatment and was concentrating particularly on his mane. He was encrusted. I regret not photographing it, but was pressed for time.

He looked like me, only bigger and more horse shaped.

I did my best in the limited time I had to wash him off, but it was not successful. At least he was clean enough to put a saddle on and did well even with the distractions of gunshots and frolicking foals. He’s sure come a long way.

I’m sure he will enjoy the mud these clouds have created.

That’s about all I have to write about today, because rather than contemplating wasting my money going to visit a cratered rock, I spent the rest of the day contemplating the value of life, the importance of friendship, and how we need to enjoy every moment we have on this planet, even when things are more than a little wonky.

I enjoyed the moment I saw this Nuptial Scorpionfly today!

Please know that if you’re my friend, you matter to me very much. And even if I don’t know you, I wish you a good life.

Hard Goals

What was the hardest personal goal you’ve set for yourself?

As tired as I am, I can answer this one (I don’t answer blog prompts lately because I’ve answered most of them). That’s good, because it was another day of barely getting through work and not being able to do much more.

I finished coloring this. It took a week or so in small doses.

So, I’ve probably mentioned this before and will again. But for years I had a hard time being the person I felt I could be, and it turns out I had a lot to do with it. Thanks to some issues in my birth family and an inherently sensitive nature, I was always very hard on myself.

I never met my own expectations. Any mistake I made lingered in my mind for a long time. I’d replay “dumb” things I said over and over. And I would constantly talk to myself in ways no one would talk to someone they cared about. I was ugly, fat, stupid, and so on. I was not nice to me.

Since I AM actually pretty smart and intuitive, I figured out that I was not helping myself with the negative self talk. So I had some therapy, talked things out with a group of safe and understanding women, meditated (a lot, still do), and read.

I’m very pleased to have come across the writing of Brené Brown. I’m also pleased someone made me read a self-help book. I find most of them really simplistic or not right for me. Her first few books opened my eyes to how much I was affecting my own self worth, and by that, encouraging others to pick at me or devalue me. Figuring out that I wasn’t the only one doing this to myself was a huge revelation. I got a much better outlook and began to heal.

I got tested a lot in this healing phase. Since I came to Cameron, a couple of people (who of course are suffering from their own internal battles) tried their best to break me down, give the community a bad impression of me, and hurt others I cared about. I’ve had some very hard times here in rural Texas, where even in a good day I’m a square peg not even trying to fit into a round hole.

But, one day, right after a very mean person was mean to me, something snapped in my brain. I told my patterns I was sick and tired of them and vowed to reframe the situation every time I started to berate myself.

Get this. It worked. After a while, weird thoughts like how good I felt, or how peaceful life was began to replace sadness. My negativity patterns have gone into background mode, and I feel so much better. Sure, that stuff is still down there and today’s trying times make feeling good about anything difficult. Yet, I honestly feel good about myself, like myself, and don’t beat myself up when I screw up (much). And of course, the horse riding lessons helped me practice gaining self confidence.

I kept telling myself I was fine just as I was and that it’s perfectly okay that not everybody likes me until it became true. I’ve even learned a bit about how to perform the once-mysterious act of “letting other people’s negativity slide right off my back.”

Maybe that’s why these bluebirds of happiness keep following me.

I try to cut others some slack, and accept those around me who confuse me just as they are. I just hope they find peace and joy on their path.

Who IS THIS version of Suna? She’s different. Not perfect, not better than anyone else, but at a good place in her spiritual journey.

So, blog prompt readers, loving myself and treating myself kindly were my hardest goals.

Now I’ll move on towards being less judgmental (making good progress), and being so afraid to speak up about what I see as wrong. There’s always room for improvement!

Am I Paranoid or Are They Really Out to Get Me?

I’m not doing myself any favors by watching the news. And it’s really not a good idea to listen to friends’ conspiracy theories. I try to avoid them but they sneak in, leading to nightmares like I used to get during the “duck and cover” years. Yes, yes, I’m too sensitive.

I always felt bad about those trees. And the people nearby.

I get told “they” are making lists of us members of a nonexistent terrorist organization. I can’t find the local meeting schedule or the state office. Maybe I don’t know the secret handshake? I don’t wear the correct golden pin on my lapel? Besides, I thought we fought whole wars against certain kinds of dictatorships. Anyway, if you’re putting me on a list, note that I tried to be kind.

Maybe that Mockingbird who watches me so closely is secretly a spy drone. I hope my birding doesn’t put the people watching the footage to sleep.

I get told to not mention certain topics while my phone is “listening,” and I guess I should be careful what I blog about, since the Chinese are so interested in my writing (really, that still cracks me up). No wonder my subconscious can get paranoid.

Lest you think I was kidding, check out these September 17 stats.

Heck, I did a Mabon tarot reading tonight with my online group, and YOW. It was paranoid! I got the nightmare card, the card about being trapped, and one about swimming against the tide. The rest were all unpleasant wands. My tarot friends pointed out that there IS an escape route on that 8 of swords, and the blindfold can be undone.

All kidding aside, I think my subconscious is just trying to ensure that I don’t wear rose-colored glasses so thick that they allow me to sink so far into denial that I don’t notice important indicators of potential danger. Whatever happens is going to happen, though, so dwelling on possibilities won’t change things—paying attention and swimming against the current without letting myself drown—seems prudent.

And by the way. Things keep breaking. Our upstairs air conditioner’s fan decided now would be a good time to quit working. We will add air conditioner repair to the list, along with RV generator repair. I’m now laughing at it. I promise I’m not invoking broken infrastructure!

And don’t worry, there’s plenty of good stuff to balance things out, appropriate for the season. At least I knew the Rapture wasn’t gonna come get me. I appreciate the wisdom of Jesus, but not what’s been done in his name, especially lately.