Boring Rainbow

Oh, my dear Rainbow, today we bring you something special and spectacular, both: the Simmer Pot. It’s a magical beast, a Christmasy unicorn brought to your kitchen, filling your life with joy, love, happiness and the synthesis for Manifesting Your Dreams. That’s kind of what a simmer pot is: it’s a Dream Machine.

I had never heard of such magic until Facebook told me they existed and all of these strangers were showing photos of their simmer bounty, and then I knew that I had to do one, too. I needed my home to smell like a candy store at Christmas and to imbue my life with presents, well into the now and future. So I pretended that I was magical, put the ingredients together, asked them for Divine blessings and asked for divine intercession, and changed my life with a winning hand. A miraculous one, hopefully.

Here’s a photo of mine:

When I think about the simmer pot, and what I want to create in my life, ultimately, it’s more meaning, a deepening, and the ability to take my family to Europe. To match my counterparts with the verve and success in life. I asked for miracles, friends. I just asked for miracles.

I’m on a wandering, miraculous journey. This past year was marvelous and I hit a rock bottom, in a way, and am looking up, trying wildly to shift things. Deciding to embrace and do anything, all the things, many things, that I can to change this life so that it’s more fun, more joyful, more full of purpose. So that I can feel like I’m living it again.

What did I begin with?

Well, the very first thing was buying a book from Samantha Fey on manifesting, then following her advice with Feng Shui. I discovered our money corner and cleaned it. We had broken, discarded, abandoned LEGO pieces there, and I removed them. Removed the chaos. Took a beautiful, round jar of coins and placed it in there. Added a painting that my friend Claire Flint painted a thousand years ago, one that she left in my apartment one day as a gift.

This is a painting of me that she did a long time ago.

Our Wealth Corner was cleaned, dusted, shining.

Then I went through and tied a red ribbon to every drain under every sink. I only have these fabric ribbons that I use for craft, and they’re actually beautiful strips of cloth, so I kind of bandaged the sink drains, it looks like, but I did that. This lets the wealth stay in so it doesn’t get flushed down the drain.

And now I try to slow the tide of epic clutter that gathers on the counter every day. I warn my husband: “We need to keep this clear so that we can bring in wealth,” but my voice is lost like a yell in the rain on the beach, facing the ocean. So, like the wind, I just gently go over the discombobulated mess regularly, muttering about wealth, and tell myself, “I can put away five things,” and slowly stir it back into a calm sea.

And also, to let you know, we did something:

After half a decade or so living with beige ceilings and white walls, we decided to mix it up a little and finish the job. Now we only have the corners to go, where the wall meets the sky, and those corners will be done, I assure you, in another decade, at least.

Progress, people.

My son’s teacher told us that we need to have guests over. Play dates, they’re called, and they’re important to maturing into a beautiful, fully formed, gorgeous expression of life. This ushered in some panic because our house is… our house is in progress.

So we invited a few sparrows into the nest but not before ripping the carpeting off the stairs first. They look BETTER as an unfinished project than as dalmation stained, ripped up filth, which is being so gentle and kind. We did lovingly vacuum them often and wash them mostly every sometimes, but still.

I think that, as you age and if you can, you learn that carpets need to go. Either that or they tell you so as they age with life, animals, and spilled coffee.

When you make a simmer pot, and I hope you do, what you do is you fill your pot with water. And you bless it, inviting in, for me, the glories of the Pacific Northwest, of fish and salmon, creeks and forests, and saying, “I invite you in, water of life.” Something like that.

And then you add the things you’d like to simmer:

• Cinnamon for wealth (ground and sticks)
• Oranges because that’s what people do (decide on their significance)
• Brown sugar for the sweetness of life
• Red clover for organic bounty and gardening
• White clover for health and Europe
• Four leaf clover for God’s miracles and intercessions
• Rose petals for beauty
• Rosemary for love and protection
• and more and more until you’re done

Then you let it simmer. As it does, it will fill your house with the most delicious aroma, and that’s the magic working. That’s the ta-dah of the thing. That’s your life changing and YOU manifesting your dreams.

When you’re fully done, let it cool and, if you like, fish out the gatherings. I placed mine on a paper plate and, then next day, tucked it under a woven coffee bag in my garden, covering that with compost. It felt fitting, returning the now used four-leaf clover to the garden where I found it, taking it home, so that it can rejoin the energy there and re-imbue my tiny pocket of earth with her magic.

I really, really hope and wish that my life will change in some miraculous and joyful way.

It would be a dream to take our family to Venice. I’d love to finally say “Look, see, I did it. I succeeded at life!” and to have something big to show for it.

Sometimes I worry about my showing for it.

And honestly, right now, my sweet honey child is sick beside me, sleeping, and I spent the day right. next. to. him. Only leaving the house once for the garden, and then going downstairs only a handful of times.

And then holding him as he lay across my body, breathing slowed, finally falling asleep.

And I know that this, and only this, is where I really NEED to be. Sometimes the whole world is one person’s whole world, and you have to be there.

I may never be the success of others but, somehow, I live a varied life with beautiful friends, good coffee, and dreams.

Somewhere, somehow, I’m an important part of society and am making it. Every tiny cog is part of the whole, and the magic.