I have been reflecting a lot about the reasons I have for
a) building a website and
b) maintaining a website.
My daughter was the impetus for creating this website.
She was (and still is) enormously proud of the dolls I create,
and she wanted others to delight in them also.
She also wanted me to perhaps derive an income stream
from the sale of dolls on-line.
So that was how Heartfelt Dolls came to be.

But now I sense a shift.
Now the website is more auto-biographical-
one woman's attempt to navigate life.
It is rich in story
and promise
and soul-companionship.

But the one thing that has bugged me
is my inability to take good photos
that would enable visitors to my website
to have a more pleasurable and informative experience.
This YouTube clip is very helpful.

People who experience or teach about downsizing say that the hardest part is
giving up cherished belongings for which you have a sentimental attachment.
Anything else can be treated with a gentle or fierce analysis
that determines whether it stays or goes,
but "dear possessions" --
as Caren Goldman calls them in her passage below --
deserve different treatment.
The ritual that she and her husband Ted created
for facing into the tension of these wrenching decisions is special for two reasons:
first, for its peacefulness and
second, for not forcing a conclusion.

In Restoring Life's Missing Pieces, she writes:

"When my husband, Ted, and I are caught in the tension
of whether to let go of possessions dear to our hearts,
we do the following ritual:

 "First, we write down the name or draw something that represents the object (or place) on a small piece of paper. It can be just a line or a scribble, or it can be the object.
Symbolically the drawing represents what we're about to 'dispossess.'

 "We then go to a peaceful place, light a candle,
and sit in silence until the one forsaking a possession is ready to tell a story or stories about it.
We speak to the candle
— not to each other.
Throughout the storytelling,
the partner acts as a silent witness who unconditionally accepts the other's truth.

 "Both parties remain silent until the person detaching either
burns the piece of paper in the candle's flame or
signals the time is not ripe by putting the paper away.
In silent unison we acknowledge that the choice made is right.
No matter which choice has been made,
a reunion has taken place in the process.

 "If the paper has been put away,
we say the words of Julian of Norwich aloud:
'All shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.'

If it is now ashes,
we use this quotation from Nobel Peace Prize-winner Dag Hammerskjold:
'For all that has been, thanks! To all that shall be — Yes!' "

from Spirituality and Practice

liminal
ˈlɪmɪn(ə)l/
adjective
technical
adjective: liminal
1. relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process.
2. occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.

I have been thinking about the liminal space recently.
It seems to be the space I occupy at present.
It is not a comfortable place -
but it offers no threat.
It is not a sad place -
but it offers no joy.
It is not a place to be feared -
but it offers no sanctuary.
It does not exist in time or space -
but it is as real as the pause between breaths.

Jane Hirshfield wrote a poem called 'The Door'
which hints at this reality.

THE DOOR
A note waterfalls steadily
through us,
just below hearing.

Or this early light
streaming through dusty glass:
what enters, enters like that,
unstoppable gift.

And yet there is also the other,
the breath-space held between any call
and its answer -

In the querying
first scuff of footstep,
the wood owls' repeating,
the two-counting heart:

A little sabbath,
minnow whose brightness silvers past time.

The rest-note,
unwritten,
hinged between worlds,
that precedes change and allows it.

Charles Eisenstein suggests that our world
is in a state of transition -
between 'separation' where we acquire and consider only the 'self',
and 'interbeing' where we collaborate, and consider the common good.

He promotes the power of story as a means of facilitating change -
telling our own story,
listening  to and reflecting on the story of others,
and looking for the giftedness in each individual
that will bring about wonderful, life-giving change.

It takes courage and self-belief
to continue 'doing your thing'
when the odds seem stacked against you.

It takes determination and great strength
and a circle of empowering friendships
not to be sucked into a vortex of negativity and self-criticism.

It is counter-cultural to bless those
who have aggrieved us,
who discourage or dismiss us.

Grace and blessings to all those women
who persist in letting their voice be heard,
who enable others to let their soul sing.

Story empowers us,
strengthens us,
shapes our life.

Joel McKerrow says
"Who you are is not shaped by the things that have happened to you in your life.
Rather, who you are is shaped
by the stories you tell about those things
that have happened to you in your life.
The names that you give those experiences.
The lens through which you view them
truly shapes who you are."

I can relate this directly to my doll making.
They tell my story.
They become my reality.
They become the fabric of my life.

What stories do I tell?

More and more,
I am coming to appreciate poetry.
It seems to speak to the soul.

And I love how people interpret poetry
and present it in a new way for us to enjoy
and take to our heart.

During January, 2017,
I participated in a poetry appreciation course.
In response to the poems I read and listened to,
I created a series of intuitive dolls.
 I have enjoyed, in the words of Natalie Merchant,
"taking them (the words) off the dead flat pages,
bringing them to life "