But I’m going to share my my favorite story of how I got to here and now, and it is fascinating and brings me an elevated perspective of the present moment.

Our past: Deep Time

• The universe began, as far as we know, about 13.5 billion years ago. 100% of all time before this moment.

• The solar system came together about 4.6 billion years ago, about 33% of all time before now.

• Abiogenesis occurred about 3.5 billion years ago

• About 500 million years ago, the first mammals split off from their last common ancestor.

• Around 90 million years ago, less than 1% of all time before this moment, primates arose as a separate species.

• 2 million years ago, only 0.1% of time before this moment, homo sapiens first arrived on the scene.

• Around 100 thousand years ago, less than 0.01% of time before now, homo sapiens came out of Africa for the first time.

• A blink of an eye ago, humans started establishing civilizations.

We are a whisper of a blink of an eye long and yet here we are. Experiencing sights, sounds, tastes, aromas, touch, and that wordless sense of being alive the arises whenever I let it come to my attention in the present.

The Future

The Prepper

Pessimism draws me in. His buddy Existential Dread whispers that it’s really just realism. It’s totally ok to be a nihilist in the Big Lebowski mold. For me, pessimism arises when I am worrying and projecting a future full of failure, loss, or ennui. I’m still learning how to turn that frown upside down, so instead I tend to get into prepper mode. Can I turn these worrisome thoughts into action? What are the steps? What do I need to learn? How many lists can I make? Sometimes these plans are extremely fruitful, like my 2025 “Victory” Garden. More often, they are a record of where my brain was that day in my journal. But often on the other side of the transmutation of worry to plans, I can return to the present. To neutrality and immersion in the sensual world.

The Standard Bearer

I’ve found that optimism is generally hailed as the best mindset to have for success. If I could maintain optimism, perhaps I would also find that to be true. But for me, optimism is usually a rebound from pessimism. It’s the copium I ingested in the weeks leading up to the 2024 election. It is fantasy or bypassing my emotions, downplaying my own or others’ suffering. Rarely, I am able to harness these chaotic thoughts into something better: Hope.

Hope is a really strange thing. It’s not really belief or faith. It’s not self-delusion. At it’s core, hope seems to be a healthy survival mechanism, and beneficial to communities. I hope my hope will spark hope. I also have hope in the synergy of hope. Hope shared is hope multiplied. So when I find something to hope for, I will bring it to my platform to share in the hopes that we can nurture each others’ hope and find the signs and symbols of hope that can help us survive late stage capitalism.

Are you semantically satiated yet?

I am stepping into a new role for myself: an artist with a wide array of mediums to connect those of us who fan the flame of our hope for a more just society and to help us find respite and joy for the ongoing struggle.

The Realist

The realist deals in facts.

The realist reckons.

The realist acts.

If you’re anything like me, you’ve read the lists of what you can do, and I’m not sure I’ll add anything to them! But here are some ideas that help me deal with the uncertainty of the Future:

• Participate in mutual aid and volunteering

• Buy local

• Bear witness the suffering of others

• Resist illegitimate authority and do not comply in advance

• Protest or support protestors as you are able

• Make art and share it or give it to a loved one

• Cultivate joy in nature

• Take scheduled and consistent care of yourself in all the ways you know you should

If you’re having trouble finding a way to act, message me and we can chat about it together! This newsletter is one drop in the bucket from me, but feels inadequate as I edit my rough draft only a handful of weeks later. So much of democracy has degraded in that time. The Prepper in me is tired from the work of the victory garden. The Standard Bearer is still here because some consequences are happening. The Realist knows it is bad and is taking it one day at a time. It has been so easy for me to tell myself the story of chronic illness, perimenopause, “new meds”, or grief…but the truth is that the chaotic state of government is a unique stressor the Prepper never prepped for, and the Standard Bearer has few strategies for addressing. We are in this together, all citizens and all residents.

Almanac Notes

It’s almost the Solstice! Here in Michigan, that means the beginning of Summer and the most beautiful time of the year in the land of pleasant peninsulas. These long summer days sometimes make my sleep schedule wonky. It’s light out until nearly 10pm on the solstice for me. But when winter comes, these extra hours of sunlight will supply me with vitamin D and sweet summer memories.

It’s the season of purple in my yard, with decorative allium, grape kool-aid irises, lilacs, and columbine all hitting at once. The apple tree finally bloomed, and it’s crisp honey aroma is mixing with the vanilla of an ancient honeysuckle. The yard needs constant mowing, and I enjoy the work. I’m finally strong enough to do yardwork this year, and I can feel myself getting stronger as I struggle to keep up!

As I write this, it is 70 degrees and sunny. A few days ago, it was 80 and I went to my local beach and enjoyed some wading in the water while I hunted for rocks. I’m always drawn to red rocks, but the orange feldspar pieces are grabbing my attention. I have so many collected rocks, I could talk about them all day on a separate blog just about rocks and Michigan geology, but I’ll just share a few!

I went down a rabbit hole thinking about the rhythm of day length with the year and Yin and Yang symbolism and found myself making a simple grid layout for fiber crafts like crochet or cross-stitch and suddenly I was throwing oil paint on a canvas for the first time in years. I later broke out my guitar and was stunned to find myself playing Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here” after tuning up. I feel the rumbling of an underground river of creativity…as I hoped would happen as I share what I care about with the world. As I creep out of my hermit’s den to see what’s what out here.

Check out my Beltane Almanac Volume download or my Slow Growth annual calendar reference. Not sure what I’m talking about? Check out the last two newsletters. The spring to summer transition is magical in Michigan. I hope you also find some inspiration in nature to bring into the new season.

See you soon for the Summer Solstice!

Subscribe now

Share

Leave a comment

This helps me redefine my life pace, bring balance, connect with time and place, be present, bring rhythm, and establish a home base for the work of the mundane, sacred, and extraordinary. To survive the suffering of the day and find joy in the comfort.

Reorientation

Our calendars and clocks are related to the rhythm of nature, but not fully aligned. We have to add an extra day every four years for the solar year to line up.

• While we have twelve months in the calendar, there are 12.36 moon cycles in a solar year.

• We completely ignore the time it takes the earth to make a full revolution in a day (a sidereal day), and instead track the solar day by returning to face the sun directly.

• Satellites in orbit experience time dilation must adjust their clocks to stay in sync with earth due to the difference in gravitation pull.

It is easy to understand the need for a common language of time for a functioning society. However, I chose to discard it whenever possible.

Solar Cycle

Thanks to the tilt of our axis, we have a convenient way to mark the movement of time here on earth. The start of the solar year seems to be most commonly accepted as the spring equinox. Personally, I’ve enjoyed using the celebrating new year at the start of Samhain, November 1 or 2 of each year, inspired by other pagan traditions. The idea of starting the solar cycle with the final harvest feels so bountiful to me. The new year starts with preparing to rest during the winter. Picture snacking on bountiful cut fruits while you and a friend cook up some jams and jellies!

Each year running up to Samhain, I reflect on the cycle coming to a close and brainstorm themes, symbols, totems, sigils for the coming year. For this year (November 1, 2025 – October 31, 2026), I chose a theme of Slow Growth inspired by reading The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben. Trees are always thinking and planning ahead. Beech trees start storing up for a mast product of beech nuts the year before and only mast every three of four years. Unbeknownst to me, my European Beech had a hollow heart and the weight of that final crop and 45 mph wind gusts took down the behemoth in 2023. Her shredded remains are feeding my garden beds. As the trees begin to bud, a shoot from the stump is putting out leaves in defiance of death.

But back to the solar year…

I enjoy eight high holy days:

• Samhain ~November 1

• Winter Solstice (Yule) ~ December 21

• Imbolc ~ February 1

• Spring Equinox (Ostara) ~ March 21

• Beltane ~ May 1

• Summer Solstice (Litha) ~ June 21

• Lughnasadh ~ August 1

• Autumn Equinox (Mabon) ~ September 2`

I draw from traditional pagan practices and am learning about the traditions of the Anishinaabe people whose land I pretend to own. I draw from farming and plant growth cycles. I draw from concepts of yin and yang. I find the solar cycle to be a scaffold for big ideas and personal growth, with seasons of preparation, rest, planning, vegetation, blossoming, fruiting, dying back and even rotting. Cleaning out the excessive dead matter, but leaving rich compost behind to feed the roots of the next growing season.

Lunar Cycle

Who doesn’t love the moon? When the full moon is at its zenith, I sometimes look up and think about all the other humans that are looking at the same thing as me right that moment. For me, the moon gets as high as 74 degrees declination in the sky during the winter, and as low as 16 degrees declination in the summer. Someone in New Zealand at 45 degrees south would see the same variation, but the moon will be upside down. If that makes your brain hurt like it does mine, I suggest building a diorama and whipping out a flashlight. We may have different perspectives depending on our location in place, but it’s the same moon at the same time and that is deeply grounding for my sense of reality.

There are about 12.5 lunar cycles per solar cycle. This mismatch is ignored in our Gregorian Calendar. This mismatch also causes a cycle of about 33.5 years before the moon is in the same position in the celestial sphere. Side note, Islam uses the lunar cycle for their religious calendar, which processes (moves backward in our standard calendar) Ramadan by about 12 days per year. This Roman farming calendar recognized lunar cycles in the farming season, with the new moon indicated in each month of this fascinating artefact.

In Red Mars, Kim Stanley Robinson explains how Mars colonists align Mars’ longer solar day to Earth’s 24 hours:

The concept of a time slip has tickled something in my brain ever since. Like the Martian day, I can reconcile the asynchronicity of the lunar cycles to the solar cycle by ignoring the lunations during the dead of winter, like a Roman farmer. This alignment with the 34 year lunar cycle is pleasing, and the two lunations of down time is restful, a relaxing time slip.

Gardening with the Moon

If you’ve been exposed to gardening with the moon, then you’ll understand why this was the next natural topic I tripped across in my lunar calendar research. For a full explanation, check out this summary. I’ll summarize it here:

• First quarter (new moon to waxing quarter): Plants where you eat the stems and leaves, annuals.

• Second quarter (waxing quarter to full moon): Plants where you eat the flowers or fruits.

• Third quarter (full moon to waning quarter): Root veggies, perennials, biennials.

• Fourth quarter (waning quarter – new moon); TIME SLIP (some garden cleanup is OK).

Again, I love it. Scheduled, guilt-free, naturally aligned, and delicious rest. Time off.

In my personal life, I use the lunar cycle to enhance shorter term planning and personal development. I used to do a little ritual, such as journaling or meditation, on the new and full moon. Now I use that energy more literally in my garden for most cycles. But if there’s something really sticking in my craw, some goal I am focused on accomplishing, I don’t mind using whatever magic is out there to build an intention on the new moon, and watch it come to fruition on the full moon. And then rest. Let the ritual do its work.

Lisel’s Alamanc

So how does this all come together? It’s complicated. And I haven’t even mentioned the 26,000 year zodiacal precession cycle of the earth’s axis, or the 225 million year cycle of the solar system above and below the galactic plane. Let’s not get quite that big.

This newsletter’s freebie is my current year calendar with the high holy days of the solar cycle and the rhythm of the lunar cycle. I’ve left some space for your own notes and schedule, and added a few other sketches of ideas for your bemusement. I’ll be using this as the basis for the seasonal almanac updates. Missed my last post? Download the Beltane almanac volume here!

Wishing my readers an aromatic spring!

Until next time,

Subscribe now

Share

Leave a comment

Welcome to The Compassionate Hedonist Project! I’ll be using the sobriquet Lisel for this creative project. The concept of being a compassionate hedonist came to me during my deconstruction from Christianity. I brought my deeply held value of compassion for others from my spiritual upbringing into a new era of allowing myself to enjoy life without the heavy concept of “sin” being applied to every choice.

Undoing the internalization of harmful and misunderstood theology is a lifelong journey. I’m choosing a new path of exploration and inviting you to join me. The compassionate hedonist project will explore several mediums of creative expression: writing, illustrations, templates, zines, paintings, and music. I hope that the variety of my expressions will resonate with you and encourage you to live a life full of creative expression, enjoyment, authenticity. Will you join me on the journey of healing?

What do I mean by Compassionate Hedonist?

I was exposed to wide menu of Christian religious communities: Initially, we attended a charismatic church, where I learned to sing in harmony and was allowed to bring a “church bag” to keep me occupied during the long sermons. In grade school, we joined a Lutheran church, and I also attended their religious school. The shift from the Word of God Community’s worship music to the hymns and liturgy of the Lutheran service was jarring. After a move in middle school, I started attending an Assemblies of God school while still attending a Lutheran church.

I was curious about the variety of beliefs among different faith communities. Should I be baptized in the river at the annual picnic, or sprinkled by the Presbyterian pastor my dad is starting a church with? Is communion a symbol or magical transformation of the mundane to the divine? Is the world ending any minute, or is Revelations really about Nero and the destruction of Jerusalem? Am I eternally saved, or can I backslide and accidentally go to hell? This confusion infused my personality development in ways I uncover each week with my therapist.

One important lesson that transcended the different faith traditions was the compassion of Jesus. I was never confused about the value of extending empathy to others. I exchanged moral guidance from an invisible personality for the practical morality of mutual aid and kindness. As my belief slowly evaporated, the center of compassion remained as I explored the sensual world. Hedonism is a fun word for opening up my experimentation with new sensations. I (re)learned to enjoy my unique location in time and space by cultivating presence and enjoyment. Another term I like is Sybarite. A sybarite is a person devoted to pleasure, named after residents of Sybaris, who lived voluptuous lifestyles.

Life is short. The fact that I am alive at all amazes me whenever I sit with it for more than a breath. The preciousness of my time on earth generated a new Creed that I live by. It’s embarrassing to even share it, given its simplicity.

My Simple Creed

• I exist

• The past is a story

• The future is unwritten

• I exist in the present, in a sphere of influence

• My priorities are:

  • Maintain my existence

  • Enjoy my existence

  • Use my influence to enrich my sphere

I’m glad you’re part of my sphere…to get a taste of my perspective, read on for Volume 1 of the Slow Growth Almanac: Beltane.

A poem

Upon learning bees use electricity to know flowers

On the lattice in the park

• (in the dark?)

  • (after dark)

Grow the curling vines of light

• (glows at night)

  • (electric light)

Flower fragrant dewy gleam

• (like a beam)

  • (in my dream)

And the bees can read the glow

• (of the grow)

  • (of the flow)

Lisel, June 11, 2016

Slow Growth Almanac, Volume 1: Beltane

Happy Beltane! May 1 is the midpoint between the spring equinox and the summer solstice. While the solstices and equinoxes mark the beginning of the next season, the cross holidays mark the peak of each season here in Michigan. Living near the 45^th parallel, it’s still pretty early in spring for us! On the modest grounds surrounding Lisel Cottage, the trout lilies, trillium, and violets are blossoming. Last year, my snow apple was already blooming in late April, and the first year I was here it didn’t bloom until mid-May. The variations tickle something in my mind.

Noting these little things helps me be present with what is happening now, while considering the past and future with gentle curiosity. As I write this, the patch of striped squill is in full bloom, carrying a light aroma. The patch grows each year, resting in the little valley of my beech tree like some late-season snow. I’m pondering filling some old tins with cocoa butter for enfleurage of the lilac blossoms coming soon. I envision myself in the dead of next winter spraying my linens with extracted aromatics: a spritz of joy and hope on a cold depressing day.

Just munching on this idea is delicious enough. Actually doing it will be icing on the cake! But I’m gentle about that part. It’s not essential. The insanity of the world outside my sphere of influence, not to mention my own personal tragedies and struggles, weigh me down. Especially when the hormones start the peri-menopause jitterbug in my overstimulated grey matter. So, let’s take it easy. Let’s enjoy the flowers together and share them with our neighbors. Let’s get outside more and notice what is sprouting.

Let’s look for morels and ramps and come home for afternoon naps.

May you have a fragrant Beltane season while the sun grows to its full power on June 21, the Summer Solstice. If you’re interested in how I think about time and apply it to the shared reality of the calendar, you can download the Beltane Calendar. I’ll be explaining more about my almanacking (no that’s not a word) in the next newsletter.

Until then, thanks for reading! Please be sure with someone you think would enjoy it, and follow me on Instagram!

Leave a comment

Share

Subscribe now

Subscribe now