Stories from The River Runs Through
Coffee. Creativity. Ceremony. The land. Becoming.
And the occasional story about something I probably should have known better than to attempt.
There are stories about the things we make, the things we inherit, the things that surprise us, and the things that change us.
Come wander awhile.
What Is It With Lawns?
It's not that I don't appreciate a well-manicured lawn.
There is something lovely about a wide expanse of green grass that feels soft and cushy under your feet. In the spring, dandelions can create an impressive sea of yellow—although I know many people respond to this natural phenomenon with considerably less enthusiasm.
The dandelions, apparently, are winning.
As Kitty and I were outside today, I was pulling weeds—or, more accurately, pulling grass—from one of the garden rows we planted this summer. I noticed leaves, dried branches, and various other things scattered through the row.
Including a hose.
It Looks Like It's Happening...
The River Runs Through's first Moon Gathering.
Of course, I shouldn't get ahead of myself. There's interest—granted, not the same interest as a Coldplay concert. 😊 But interest...and not just from our family members!
Clearly, there is something about getting together.
And getting together to give a little time and attention to observing the ebb and flow of the moon.
I remember the first time I truly observed the moon. Not that I hadn't seen it before (and, of course, believed it was following me everywhere—I'm still not entirely convinced it wasn't.), or noticed how bright it could be. But it wasn't until my first year of college that I really paid attention. One of our assignments was to track the moon through all of its phases. It was the first time I realized the moon shows up in the morning—and even in the afternoon. It was also when I first heard the words waxing and waning. I was captivated.
How I Accidentally Became a Wedding Officiant
Long before this became The River Runs Through, when it was simply twenty-nine acres, an old farmhouse, and a dream, I had already decided this was going to be a place where people gathered.
Some people dream about gardens.
Some dream about horses.
Apparently, I dreamed about weddings.
I've always been fascinated by them.
The dresses.
The flowers.
The invitations.
The table settings.
The old barns transformed into magical reception spaces.
The traditions.
The symbolism.
The promises.
That's a rather long list, which probably tells you two things.
Hummingbird
I was reminded of Hummingbird today.
A lovely woman came by with a man who has become a regular here at the coffee shop. We love seeing him enjoying the space, coffee in hand, just being here. She shared some of her experiences with Shamanism, including an immersive trip to Greece, and somewhere in the conversation she mentioned Hummingbird.
"For me," she said, "Hummingbird represents joy."
I smiled.
Here We Are
Yesterday was busy.
And, to be honest, stopping and noticing was only momentary. Still, I did it. I stopped. I looked around. I reflected in that moment, and thought...
Here we are.
It's funny how we spend so much of our lives working toward something, wondering if we'll ever get there, and then one day we look up and realize...
Here we are.
How the River Taught Me to Listen
There was a lot of baking today. Or perhaps more accurately, there was a lot of creating pieces that will eventually become something whole. Mixing dry ingredients. Preparing fillings. Letting dough rest. None of it looked like the finished product, yet every piece mattered.
It reminded me that life has unfolded much the same way.
Before I understood psychology, before I understood trauma, before I understood healing, I was simply a little girl who paid attention.
Moon Circle Gatherings
What if, once each month, we simply paused?
Paused long enough to notice the moon overhead, the changing seasons around us, and what is quietly changing within us.
Moon Circle is a monthly gathering to reconnect—with ourselves, one another, and the natural world. Together we'll reflect, meditate, create, share (if you choose), and honor the rhythms that have guided humanity for thousands of years.
The Magic of a Quiet Day
Yesterday was wonderfully busy.
Today was wonderfully quiet.
I imagine that's how the universe keeps us humble. Just when you think you've figured things out, it hands you a quiet day and says, "Go make something."
So I baked.
I'm not entirely sure where my love of baking began. Maybe it was my Easy-Bake Oven, which somehow convinced an entire generation of children that a light bulb was a perfectly reasonable heat source.
I mostly remember what went wrong.
The frosting that somehow became marshmallow.
The cakes that could have doubled as coasters.
The pizza dough came from a box because I hadn't yet learned that yeast can't be hurried. Bread has its own schedule, and it has absolutely no interest in ours.
Come to think of it...neither does life.
The First Truly Magical Day
We've had good days at The River Runs Through.
We've had surprising days. Rainy days. "What were we thinking?" days.
Today was different.
Today was the first day that felt...magical.
Ironically, it began with our bathroom.