Earlier this year, I had an aura portrait. It was a a radiant kaleidoscope of yellow and orange, purple and pink. But in the middle was a small dark smudge. The photographer pointed to it and said it was a mental block; that something was troubling me. I thought about it afterward. My shoulder had been hurting for days, off and on, and I realized (through some journaling and card pulling and observing myself) that I was walking around hunched in on myself, trying to protect my heart. I rolled my shoulders back, lifted my chin, and journaled through what was bothering me. The pain went away. At the end of last month, the week that I would normally begin writing and scheduling posts for the upcoming month, my jaw began to hurt. Intensely. I prodded around and located the source as being in the soft space behind my jaw. There wasn't any swelling or visible problem. I wasn't in pain while I slept or when I first woke up, the motions and activities that triggered searing flashes tha...

There has not been a whole lot of knitting this month, but one project that I did make time for was some washcloths for the kids' bathroom. The Bigs recently discovered showers and have been going through washcloths at an astonishing rate, so I grabbed a couple hanks of Blue Sky Fibers Cotton in colors that coordinated with the new shower curtain (we didn't have one in the bathroom since the tub was previously only used for baths and the curtain was getting in the way). I found a curtain with potted plants on it, which is great in that the top third is white so it doesn't shrink the bathroom too badly, but an unanticipated downside is now every time I walk down the hall past that bathroom I jump because it looks like there's a kid standing there in the dark. I also finished the Bindle Bags  that I started a couple months ago. I've already tied one onto the little tiered cart I use as a nightstand/put by my desk during the day, and gotten yarn to make another one. St...

One of my favorite jobs was the time I spent as a library page. In the basement where the giant conveyer brought all the returned books, once the machine sorted everything by area, we would manually sort them into more specific categories, while alphabetizing them. Then they would go on carts and we would heave them onto the elevator and up to the stacks. Some things were loosely organized; both picture books and paperback romance novels were sorted by the first letter of the author's last name only, while board books weren't sorted at all. Biographies are alphabetical by the last name of the person they're about. Nonfiction, on the other hand, is categorized by up to three digits on either side of a decimal, with further alphabetization within that. Still, there is a lot of variety within each section. A manual on how to operate Microsoft Excel and an expose about aliens in the US government can be next to each other in the 000s, and "adult fiction" covers almost...

#attunedpracticetuesdays: where we share the rituals and routines that are aligned with our sense of peace and wellbeing During The Dark Years (circa 2004-2019), I recall joining someone in wondering why "those people" feel the need to make queerness "like, their whole personality" (probably over some hapless barista with a small rainbow flag pin on their apron). I was a practiced asshole, a closeted queer person trying to survive in a context that condemned my very existence. (As a side note, I think I have apologized to everyone I need to from that time period, but if I overlooked you, please know the omission was not intentional). At the time of that conversation, I wouldn't have considered it odd for someone to have verses of Christian scripture wrenched from their context and plastered on every conceivable household item and accessory. It wasn't the identifying that was the problem, it was the specific identity . But as someone who is now never out of ...

For most of my life, I tried to be who other people told me I should be. They arrived with pretty boxes that had labels like woman, daughter, wife, mother, or Christian,  and said that the only way to be good/happy/accepted was to get into the box. So I did. After all, I wanted to be accepted and happy, and seen as good (I was also a child). But while there are probably people out there who are the same shape as those boxes, I am not one of them. The only way I fit into a box of any kind is in pieces, and even then a lot has to be left out. It's very difficult to function, much less be happy, when you're like my four year old's Mr Potato Head toy, which is missing the match to every pair and (most critically) the potato body that they go into. But I'm not a Mr Potato Head, and I finally gathered my component parts back together and put the boxes into the recycle bin so they can have a new life as something else, hopefully something less oppressive. And I've found th...

A Christian mystic's Psalm 8, with respectful gratitude to the original I AM. Creator. How wonderful is your name in all creation! Your splendor fills the universe. Against raging chaos you built your realm from the smallest atoms; and your great light bound the darkness. I see the beauty your hand has painted, constellations like brushstrokes in the sky... What is humanity, that you remember us? that your thoughts turn kindly toward us? Made in your likeness to make, in Spirit inspired, you hand us the brush and invite us to bring color to your kingdom sketch. I AM. Creator. How wonderful is your name in all creation!

Monthly maker post! I feel like I've knit a lot, and I also feel like I haven't made very much... possibly because there aren't many pictures. First off the needles, I knit every possible yard of the yarn that I had for it into Fingerless Lajish  (link goes to Ravelry). There was just a dab left of the green and white, obviously more of the black because I only made one pair with the black background. I'm keeping those, I gave away two pairs of the others, and I think I'll put the other two in the food pantry box near us this winter. A fun little side project was this commission: two Star Wars themed baby hats. I didn't use a pattern (because where's the fun in that?) but I am actually quite pleased with how they turned out. I don't crochet very much but I do enjoy it when I do. Most recently, I'm working on a very large (or small, depending on what you're measuring - overall it's a big thing with a lot of stitches, with fine yarn on tiny nee...

Several years ago, I very cautiously went to an intro to astrology class at Bella Vita Jewelry, and had the pleasure of meeting Michelle of Moon & Myrrh. She is a delightful, thoughtful, and informed human being. The whole concept made me wildly uncomfortable but also spoke to me on a certain level, so I did my own research and asked lots of questions (which she answered very graciously). I slowly (by slowly please understand that it took a solid year and a half--I do not embrace change willy nilly) began to integrate what I was learning into my life, because it honestly just made so much sense. I'm a Gemini sun (that points to my core values and motivations), Capricorn moon (that's the framework my emotions hang on), and a Leo rising. Rising sets off your own astrological year, which is why these blog posts have been organized the way they have. Rising/the first house is the house of self and appearance - and Leo is bold, confident, generous but also craving recognition. (...

After doing an updated intro post on Instagram several weeks ago, I asked myself why bother with a reintroduction? Why not just switch up my content to reflect who I am now?  but I thought about it and decided that integrity demanded one. If we view "integrity" as "the state of being whole and undivided" (one of its definitions, according to the New Oxford American Dictionary), then I want to give the people who knew me/followed me before a clear opportunity to part ways if they don't share my new path. I'm not here to force anything on anyone. And also, I want to have integrity within myself. I treat the identities of others with respect, looking up name pronunciations and doing my best to remember pronouns and celebrating each phase of others' personal evolutions--and I should do the same for myself. If I'm walking through my house, comfortable and confident, and I say aloud "it's a they day!" I should (and did, when it happened) stop...

A year ago, I revamped my blog and at the same time began a journey of self discovery that was long overdue. I worked my way from the outside in, using the twelve astrological houses as a guide--and while I was expecting this to be a perpetual onion or spiral staircase, it turned out to be more of an unpacking. There was a lot of journaling, a lot introspection, and a few terrifyingly untethered months where I struggled to separate something I desperately wanted to keep from the grasp of something that I absolutely could no longer tolerate. So here we are again, and here I am, a wholly different person than I was a year ago. I haven't shared a tremendous amount about the process, since it was  a process, but now that I've gotten my personality down out of the box it was stashed in in my mental attic with no intention of ever putting it back, introductions may be in order. Hi! I'm Sarah Jo. My pronouns are she/they. I live in central Arkansas. Some words that describe me (I ...

 Whatever you are best at whatever makes you "you" the shape of footprints when you walk the void when you leave a room Your smile and your laughter your sorrow and your tears what you've done and want to do what you've regretted, and your fears Whether loud or quiet the you that you call "mine" is yours and yours alone so, darling, let it shine.

When I was nine, the secular celebration of Christmas was banned in our home (for well intentioned reasons). I was devastated. I knew that my grandparents would most likely continue to give me gifts, but the idea that I wouldn't be able to give anything back or participate in the rituals and liturgies of the holiday was crushing. The one aspect that was left to me was the one I would have willingly sacrificed in exchange for the others. Lighting candles. Considering the handmade gift that would best suit the recipient, and then making it. Sending cards. Driving around neighborhoods in our pajamas, sipping cocoa and questing fabulous light displays. Baking and sharing special treats. Decorating the tree as a family, while listening to Vince Gill sing "let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me." The gifts of time and joy and love, wrapped in tinsel and circularly given; the process and practice that lead to the products; these are things I knew I needed in order ...

I've been on a sparkle kick this month, embracing wonder and shininess wherever I can find it (which is surprisingly everywhere, given the pandemic and all). I redid my  tile mat (click that link at your own risk) with an appropriate sentiment, and my projects ended up more themed than usual this month. I may not be able to extrovert with people like I'd like to, but I can extrovert my spaces! One thing I did was create a sewing corner in our living room. We've rearranged it twice in the past few months (Adam did it once, while I was gone on a solitary birthday/convince-the-toddler-to-stop-nursing-by-removing-the-temptation outing, and then I redid it a few weeks later) and one result of the final redo was a nice corner by a big front window opening up. I got a reasonably priced writing desk from Target, hung a mirror behind the curtain, and  dragged out my old sewing machine from where it was mouldering in a closet (I haven't used it since Tobin was a toddler, when he...

I have always loved to read. As a kid I devoured books at a rate that ate through our small town library's collection rapidly - but I didn't mind, I just read them again. Part of the joy of a story, to me, is sharing it, so I followed my mum around the house and recounted everything I read. I'm not naturally good at summarizing (didn't Flannery O'Connor say something about the story having the necessary words?) so she knows a lot of books she hasn't technically read herself. Since what is endearing in a child is frowned upon in an adult, I mostly keep my bookish thoughts to myself (with the exception of a monthly book club). But after being a part of a few protests in June, I saw a use for my speed reading and book sharing - book reviewing. There is a dizzying selection of literature that can help us (that is, white people) navigate the racial issues that plague our society, but it can be hard to know where to start. We're also all unique in how we process n...

For a long time, I got my identity from knitting. That was straightforward and generally obvious (I'm rarely without a project), but it was also very incomplete. I like Making of all kinds - things to beautify my space and myself, and things to give to others. But there is yet more (I am, after all, a whole human). So what are the sparks that comprise the fire? I'd like to begin looking at that, together. Because I do best with unfettered creativity within a set boundary (the fence keeps me from running off and getting completely lost), I'm going to start grouping posts like a magazine: introduction, themed pieces, conclusion. Hopefully that will keep me both organized and accountable, and writing (which is a direction I'd like to explore more deeply, anyway). Let's start with externals - the outworkings of the inner person. I'm sure this will likely go in a different direction than I imagine it will in the moment, but I'd love it if you'd join me for th...