The Roots of Awareness
Linda Van Leuven
Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through.
Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death.
--Anaïs Nin
Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death.
--Anaïs Nin

“It is what it is.”
This is my father’s pragmatic response to many situations these days, including his own rapidly declining health. It seems there is nothing to do, which would sound like a very Zen perspective, if it were not for a sense of resignation. Maybe it is the slight drop in his energy and tone at the end of the sentence: “It is what it is.” Still, this pronouncement marks a dramatic shift from the man I remember, whose comments about life and people often suggested that things should have been different than they were.
Indeed, something has changed. And not just for him, but for us all. We are all in Transition – including our Beloved Mother Earth – a theme I began exploring in the last Issue (Inclusion is a Radical Act). And whether you call it Birth, Death, Adolescence, Menopause, Awakening, Ascension, DNA Activation, Realization, The Aquarian Age, Planetary Alignments, A Paradigm Shift, the Anthropocene, or simply Life falling apart – things are different now. And for the record: neither Hillary nor Obama are to blame.
There’s been a qualitative shift in Life, requiring and enabling different mechanisms of awareness – involving our subtle, energetic, and physical bodies. This means that being Present is a Whole Being activity, one which doesn’t care what you wear, mandate a life of asceticism, or for you to go to Bali to wake up (but you could, if you had the resources or inclination). And transparency is the order of the day; not because it is the act of telling (more of) the Truth – like it’s a decision or political platform or “the time” – but rather, because everything is more available now, including multiple Truths and Timelines, as the veils between worlds and dimensions thin. Finally, Time (and perceptions of it) will not be more clear just because you have an Apple watch.
We are at a Crossroads of Consciousness.
We are being invited to look at our (not-so-New) Materialism – both in practice, and as guiding philosophy, and (secular) Religion; and also, our mechanistic approach to Nature, and Life. What are Our Bottom Lines?
"Radical simply means 'grasping things at the root," wrote Angela Davis. If Radical is indeed what is at the Root, what (and where) is this – in practice, or at an experiential level? How does a shift in Consciousness affect Structure and lived realities? What does Consciousness Raising look like in the New Paradigm? These are some of the questions I am interested in, and what was to be the focus of this piece.
And while the Cosmos shifts, what hasn’t changed is my waiting until the last minute to write the Editorial. Part of the waiting is that I’m always excited to see and be energized by what comes forth after sitting with the Issue as a whole: inspired by many women’s voices, the creative sparks, the reminder of just how glorious and varied women are – be it through their tales of Bears , the dwarf Planet Eris, or photos of Merkins. But the other part is just the composting, the “it’s ready when it’s ready” vibe that has challenged my Co-Editor, Monica (the Virgo), over the years. What I love about our collaborating is our growth, how we help each other see and work in new ways. Mostly, my Father’s health situation has changed things, and me – brought new feelings, and writing, and awareness, including the realization that I started at Trivia with Issue 13 - Death - and A Feminist Editorial on Death.
So here we are at the New Moon in Aquarius, a time of new beginnings, to be brave and bold; a time to do things differently, to accept that things have changed – and are always changing.
Still,
It is what it is.
***
“Your body has changed. You have a new body.” I hear the occupational nurse explaining that my 85-year-old father must reset his expectations of who he is and what he can do. His Body is different, suddenly, and he has to adjust his thinking. But it is not just how he orients to his Body, but to life, and sense of self. That was then, this is now. Ironically, what most people would see as an old body, is new to him.
Regardless of what you think of your Body, The Body has plans for you. While it is true that, as Judith Butler says, we perform our bodies, it is also true, as my friend Monica says, that our bodies perform us. But mostly, I think there’s a slight misunderstanding about what the Body is, and the role of it in what we commonly think of as “our” lives. I see the Body as Ancient, and Intelligent, no matter what trip or meaning we lay on it. Which doesn’t mean there isn’t suffering caused by surface Identities, or issues of self. It’s just that this has little to do with the actual Body, and maintaining life. So it's again about bottom lines. For my Dad, the Kidneys working is more important than his arms working. We talk about the inner body, that what matters is inside him.
Another Doctor asks my dad what he enjoys doing, and whether he still finds pleasure in these things. He rattles off a list, with an affirmative “yes.”
Why isn’t End of Life care, and the myriad concerns, practiced across one’s whole life? Sure, what would make the list would shift, as one evolves, but what a great practice: Here I am now. This is what Matters. Am I enjoying my Life? Because it can end in a heartbeat, or lack thereof.
***
“Can you see them?”
Patriarchy lies in a Hospital bed. I am resting in the lounger next to him. It is our second day and night together like this, and he is telling me things – like how small I was as a baby, when he held me in the back room in the house with my Mom in Michigan, when they lived on such and such street. “You were so tiny.” “I can see the room.” We go back and forth as he remembers things, has “we need to talk” moments about what will happen to him, what his wishes are, how things didn’t turn out as expected, how he has had a good life. There are also the more familiar exchanges about my needing a job, what am I going to do to bring in money, money, money, and “I didn’t hear from you for years. I guess you had your reasons.” I groan, “Arrrrrrrgh.” It is time for lights out on that particular conversation, and a new line of exchange.
“The Druids are here”
“Where, Dad?”
“Right outside the window. Can you see them?”
I look out the window. “No, Dad. But I wish I could.” What are they wearing?”
“Hoods and cloaks.”
I want to ask if they have sickles, but think better of this, and make some reference to the House of Lancaster, his family line, and the Druids. He agrees. I’ve never heard my father say “Druids” in his Life. I know nothing of the House of Lancaster. And yet, here it is, available now. So unremarkable, like we are discussing the weather.
“The Druids are here” caps a day of intimacies, and is the most spiritual conversation and experience I’ve ever had with my father,
Till the next morning:
“I’m so glad you’re awake. I had a strange dream.”
“What happened, Dad?”
“I had to fight the light. I had to fight the opening, to not go through the window.”
I go over and touch him. “I’m so glad you’re ok”
“I’m ok because you were there. I had to fight the opening. It was so hard”
"What saved you?"
"You did. The Druids and you.”
He shares more about his experience, and the “terms” for his return, as the ICU Nurse comes in. She is worried about him for other reasons. His blood pressure is high. We negotiate ice chips for his taking his meds. He is cold and wants me to climb in bed with him. I hesitated last night, when he asked this, but not now. The Nurse says “No,” but I’m doing it anyway, so she comes to help me lower the bed railing. I climb in, hold my father, and smell his neck. What is it about the sense of smell? He is worried about me missing my plane. I want to stay with him. How can I leave?
“You have to get back to your life.” “To work.” “You don’t want to be late.” He is especially concerned about me getting to the airport. I just hold him for a bit. He asks, “Have you turned the rental car in yet?”
“Not yet, Dad. But soon.”
The ICU Nurse says, “Oh that’s so sweet. You’re worried about him, but he’s worried about you.” Yes, I say. I leave out that he’s multi-tasking, as he is also time and space traveling, while being in the here and now.
He keeps telling me to go home and start my life. Instead, I’m flying home to go to work at the Mall. Of all that is happening, this makes the least sense to me.
I see his Doctor in the hall on my way out, and tell him that Dad is feeling cold, seems agitated, and had a strange dream….(which I know was not just a strange dream). His otherwise progressive doctor looks at me and says, “So he's delusional.” Instantly, my back tightens and energy flows up my spine. I seem to be expanding in size. I recognize his response. I’ve heard it for Ages, applied to women and mystics and healers, the impoverished, the strange, the mentally ill; said by doctors and clergy, parents, neighbors, and family members.
“No, he's absolutely lucid.”
***
I call the Hospital when I get to the airport. It takes them awhile to pick up at the nurses station. “Just tell him I made it to the airport. I’m safe, and on my way home.” I am unusually relaxed on the flight home, and reading Mary Daly's, Quintessence...Realizing the Archaic Future A Radical Elemental Feminist Manifesto, thinking about my upcoming editorial for TRIVIA. When I land, there’s a voicemail from my Dad’s doctor, saying that 30 minutes ago he had a Code Blue episode, that they lost his pulse, but were able to bring him back. That he is stable now, but they will keep him in ICU. I look at the time of the message: 30 minutes earlier I was calling the hospital to leave word that I was safe at the airport. I later learn that this was the only time my father didn’t have a DNR in a hospital stay.
It is what it is (and it is magical).
***
So, if it is what it is, what is it?
We know things are not ever (exclusively) what they appear to be. They are interpretations of what we think they are, based on socialization, history, politics, categories, labels, word choice, mood, glucose levels, and conditioned habituated thinking. And if the wine could talk, I’m sure it would also have an opinion. If we add in new understandings, old wisdoms, some more information, and aging, we see things in ever expanding ways. Real change is an inside job.
***
My Dad never missed a day of work. Which meant he missed much of our lives – Mom's various female surgeries, and the day-to-day trials and activities. When I saw him in the hospital, he said “I never missed a day of work” about his perfect attendance record for GM, 30 years of weekdays. He says this in response to my wanting to stay with him, to miss work.
He adds, "I think it was the right thing to do. I don't know." I say nothing. I get it now, though didn’t always. We make decisions in moments, and social contexts; looking back at those decisions is rarely helpful from where we now stand. Maybe we have compassion. Maybe we wish it were different. Maybe we don’t know. But we do what we do when we do it. Otherwise, it is seemingly a series of trade offs – making deals with devils, and apparently, now, angels.
Now it is my turn.
I am planning to go see my father again, he is home after another recent emergency hospital stay. I hear many words – “considering hospice” becomes “discharged” and “stable” all within 24 hours. How do you plan with such apparent uncertainty? And yet we must, and do.
So, I weigh the mantras and the words: "take care of your life," "do what's best for you," “stable.” I’ll delay my trip, and stay home to work on TRIVIA, because I need space and books, time and familiarity to write. Right?
In the past, Dad has reminded me that TRIVIA is unpaid work. It comes down to Money. This often seems to be the currency of our relationship, his bottom line. At least it used to be. Or I thought it was. But this is a New Paradigm for us all. He now asks more generally of my TRIVIA work, “Will you get anything out of it?” No need to educate him on the joy of process and self-discovery and service to my Sisters. I am also a pragmatic end-point thinker, so just say, “I’ll get exposure, and maybe that will lead to something.” He says, “Ok. See you soon.”.
So I’ll do something different, something Radical for me – I will stay, prioritize my writing, finish things for TRIVIA, THEN I’ll go visit my Dad. I think this is breaking the cycle of me “abandoning myself” to rush off and help others. This always sounds far more dramatic than it is – relationships are much more complex than psychological one-liners, best selling book titles, or labels. And in my experience, it is always the Giver that receives the gift. But the felt experience of leaving oneself, or not being rooted/grounded, remains, and is something that writing engages directly.
My decision to stay is a two day painful karmic lesson. I can’t sleep, breathe, or work. I don’t want to be that person (who chooses work over people). I hear the sadness in my Dad's voice on the phone, "Are you on the plane?" "I thought you were coming" touches the place of Truth in me – what's important. A place without thought, or my needing to make a decision. There is just “Decision.” Following this feeling and being with my Dad is my only job in this moment. And also breaks the loop of whatever thoughts remain about our first family, not being his first anymore. That is just an old bitter story, one of many that no longer serves me. What the decision really does is prioritize human relationships, and Heart.
This is my bottom line – My Root of Awareness.
So I will pack, and leave, and watch the Superbowl with my dad who can't see the screen. Watching the game is something we boys always did. But things have changed. Now, I will sit there as a 53-year-old woman, and load the Issue of TRIVIA, and write when I can.
It is what it is: How Radical.
Some days there are things you can only share with your dog. And yet, you write about them. This experience with my Dad, and writing this editorial, has been Consciousness Raising, a testament that the Personal is Political and Spiritual. A good reminder that seeking to explore the Radical – the Root – is not an intellectual exercise, but one that is deeply grounded in lived realities – in Bodies, in Energy, in Nature, in Spirit, and in the Stars – in Relationship with it All. And things change, are always changing. Maybe women already know this. And maybe we need to be reminded sometimes.
With Love,
LVL
This is my father’s pragmatic response to many situations these days, including his own rapidly declining health. It seems there is nothing to do, which would sound like a very Zen perspective, if it were not for a sense of resignation. Maybe it is the slight drop in his energy and tone at the end of the sentence: “It is what it is.” Still, this pronouncement marks a dramatic shift from the man I remember, whose comments about life and people often suggested that things should have been different than they were.
Indeed, something has changed. And not just for him, but for us all. We are all in Transition – including our Beloved Mother Earth – a theme I began exploring in the last Issue (Inclusion is a Radical Act). And whether you call it Birth, Death, Adolescence, Menopause, Awakening, Ascension, DNA Activation, Realization, The Aquarian Age, Planetary Alignments, A Paradigm Shift, the Anthropocene, or simply Life falling apart – things are different now. And for the record: neither Hillary nor Obama are to blame.
There’s been a qualitative shift in Life, requiring and enabling different mechanisms of awareness – involving our subtle, energetic, and physical bodies. This means that being Present is a Whole Being activity, one which doesn’t care what you wear, mandate a life of asceticism, or for you to go to Bali to wake up (but you could, if you had the resources or inclination). And transparency is the order of the day; not because it is the act of telling (more of) the Truth – like it’s a decision or political platform or “the time” – but rather, because everything is more available now, including multiple Truths and Timelines, as the veils between worlds and dimensions thin. Finally, Time (and perceptions of it) will not be more clear just because you have an Apple watch.
We are at a Crossroads of Consciousness.
We are being invited to look at our (not-so-New) Materialism – both in practice, and as guiding philosophy, and (secular) Religion; and also, our mechanistic approach to Nature, and Life. What are Our Bottom Lines?
"Radical simply means 'grasping things at the root," wrote Angela Davis. If Radical is indeed what is at the Root, what (and where) is this – in practice, or at an experiential level? How does a shift in Consciousness affect Structure and lived realities? What does Consciousness Raising look like in the New Paradigm? These are some of the questions I am interested in, and what was to be the focus of this piece.
And while the Cosmos shifts, what hasn’t changed is my waiting until the last minute to write the Editorial. Part of the waiting is that I’m always excited to see and be energized by what comes forth after sitting with the Issue as a whole: inspired by many women’s voices, the creative sparks, the reminder of just how glorious and varied women are – be it through their tales of Bears , the dwarf Planet Eris, or photos of Merkins. But the other part is just the composting, the “it’s ready when it’s ready” vibe that has challenged my Co-Editor, Monica (the Virgo), over the years. What I love about our collaborating is our growth, how we help each other see and work in new ways. Mostly, my Father’s health situation has changed things, and me – brought new feelings, and writing, and awareness, including the realization that I started at Trivia with Issue 13 - Death - and A Feminist Editorial on Death.
So here we are at the New Moon in Aquarius, a time of new beginnings, to be brave and bold; a time to do things differently, to accept that things have changed – and are always changing.
Still,
It is what it is.
***
“Your body has changed. You have a new body.” I hear the occupational nurse explaining that my 85-year-old father must reset his expectations of who he is and what he can do. His Body is different, suddenly, and he has to adjust his thinking. But it is not just how he orients to his Body, but to life, and sense of self. That was then, this is now. Ironically, what most people would see as an old body, is new to him.
Regardless of what you think of your Body, The Body has plans for you. While it is true that, as Judith Butler says, we perform our bodies, it is also true, as my friend Monica says, that our bodies perform us. But mostly, I think there’s a slight misunderstanding about what the Body is, and the role of it in what we commonly think of as “our” lives. I see the Body as Ancient, and Intelligent, no matter what trip or meaning we lay on it. Which doesn’t mean there isn’t suffering caused by surface Identities, or issues of self. It’s just that this has little to do with the actual Body, and maintaining life. So it's again about bottom lines. For my Dad, the Kidneys working is more important than his arms working. We talk about the inner body, that what matters is inside him.
Another Doctor asks my dad what he enjoys doing, and whether he still finds pleasure in these things. He rattles off a list, with an affirmative “yes.”
Why isn’t End of Life care, and the myriad concerns, practiced across one’s whole life? Sure, what would make the list would shift, as one evolves, but what a great practice: Here I am now. This is what Matters. Am I enjoying my Life? Because it can end in a heartbeat, or lack thereof.
***
“Can you see them?”
Patriarchy lies in a Hospital bed. I am resting in the lounger next to him. It is our second day and night together like this, and he is telling me things – like how small I was as a baby, when he held me in the back room in the house with my Mom in Michigan, when they lived on such and such street. “You were so tiny.” “I can see the room.” We go back and forth as he remembers things, has “we need to talk” moments about what will happen to him, what his wishes are, how things didn’t turn out as expected, how he has had a good life. There are also the more familiar exchanges about my needing a job, what am I going to do to bring in money, money, money, and “I didn’t hear from you for years. I guess you had your reasons.” I groan, “Arrrrrrrgh.” It is time for lights out on that particular conversation, and a new line of exchange.
“The Druids are here”
“Where, Dad?”
“Right outside the window. Can you see them?”
I look out the window. “No, Dad. But I wish I could.” What are they wearing?”
“Hoods and cloaks.”
I want to ask if they have sickles, but think better of this, and make some reference to the House of Lancaster, his family line, and the Druids. He agrees. I’ve never heard my father say “Druids” in his Life. I know nothing of the House of Lancaster. And yet, here it is, available now. So unremarkable, like we are discussing the weather.
“The Druids are here” caps a day of intimacies, and is the most spiritual conversation and experience I’ve ever had with my father,
Till the next morning:
“I’m so glad you’re awake. I had a strange dream.”
“What happened, Dad?”
“I had to fight the light. I had to fight the opening, to not go through the window.”
I go over and touch him. “I’m so glad you’re ok”
“I’m ok because you were there. I had to fight the opening. It was so hard”
"What saved you?"
"You did. The Druids and you.”
He shares more about his experience, and the “terms” for his return, as the ICU Nurse comes in. She is worried about him for other reasons. His blood pressure is high. We negotiate ice chips for his taking his meds. He is cold and wants me to climb in bed with him. I hesitated last night, when he asked this, but not now. The Nurse says “No,” but I’m doing it anyway, so she comes to help me lower the bed railing. I climb in, hold my father, and smell his neck. What is it about the sense of smell? He is worried about me missing my plane. I want to stay with him. How can I leave?
“You have to get back to your life.” “To work.” “You don’t want to be late.” He is especially concerned about me getting to the airport. I just hold him for a bit. He asks, “Have you turned the rental car in yet?”
“Not yet, Dad. But soon.”
The ICU Nurse says, “Oh that’s so sweet. You’re worried about him, but he’s worried about you.” Yes, I say. I leave out that he’s multi-tasking, as he is also time and space traveling, while being in the here and now.
He keeps telling me to go home and start my life. Instead, I’m flying home to go to work at the Mall. Of all that is happening, this makes the least sense to me.
I see his Doctor in the hall on my way out, and tell him that Dad is feeling cold, seems agitated, and had a strange dream….(which I know was not just a strange dream). His otherwise progressive doctor looks at me and says, “So he's delusional.” Instantly, my back tightens and energy flows up my spine. I seem to be expanding in size. I recognize his response. I’ve heard it for Ages, applied to women and mystics and healers, the impoverished, the strange, the mentally ill; said by doctors and clergy, parents, neighbors, and family members.
“No, he's absolutely lucid.”
***
I call the Hospital when I get to the airport. It takes them awhile to pick up at the nurses station. “Just tell him I made it to the airport. I’m safe, and on my way home.” I am unusually relaxed on the flight home, and reading Mary Daly's, Quintessence...Realizing the Archaic Future A Radical Elemental Feminist Manifesto, thinking about my upcoming editorial for TRIVIA. When I land, there’s a voicemail from my Dad’s doctor, saying that 30 minutes ago he had a Code Blue episode, that they lost his pulse, but were able to bring him back. That he is stable now, but they will keep him in ICU. I look at the time of the message: 30 minutes earlier I was calling the hospital to leave word that I was safe at the airport. I later learn that this was the only time my father didn’t have a DNR in a hospital stay.
It is what it is (and it is magical).
***
So, if it is what it is, what is it?
We know things are not ever (exclusively) what they appear to be. They are interpretations of what we think they are, based on socialization, history, politics, categories, labels, word choice, mood, glucose levels, and conditioned habituated thinking. And if the wine could talk, I’m sure it would also have an opinion. If we add in new understandings, old wisdoms, some more information, and aging, we see things in ever expanding ways. Real change is an inside job.
***
My Dad never missed a day of work. Which meant he missed much of our lives – Mom's various female surgeries, and the day-to-day trials and activities. When I saw him in the hospital, he said “I never missed a day of work” about his perfect attendance record for GM, 30 years of weekdays. He says this in response to my wanting to stay with him, to miss work.
He adds, "I think it was the right thing to do. I don't know." I say nothing. I get it now, though didn’t always. We make decisions in moments, and social contexts; looking back at those decisions is rarely helpful from where we now stand. Maybe we have compassion. Maybe we wish it were different. Maybe we don’t know. But we do what we do when we do it. Otherwise, it is seemingly a series of trade offs – making deals with devils, and apparently, now, angels.
Now it is my turn.
I am planning to go see my father again, he is home after another recent emergency hospital stay. I hear many words – “considering hospice” becomes “discharged” and “stable” all within 24 hours. How do you plan with such apparent uncertainty? And yet we must, and do.
So, I weigh the mantras and the words: "take care of your life," "do what's best for you," “stable.” I’ll delay my trip, and stay home to work on TRIVIA, because I need space and books, time and familiarity to write. Right?
In the past, Dad has reminded me that TRIVIA is unpaid work. It comes down to Money. This often seems to be the currency of our relationship, his bottom line. At least it used to be. Or I thought it was. But this is a New Paradigm for us all. He now asks more generally of my TRIVIA work, “Will you get anything out of it?” No need to educate him on the joy of process and self-discovery and service to my Sisters. I am also a pragmatic end-point thinker, so just say, “I’ll get exposure, and maybe that will lead to something.” He says, “Ok. See you soon.”.
So I’ll do something different, something Radical for me – I will stay, prioritize my writing, finish things for TRIVIA, THEN I’ll go visit my Dad. I think this is breaking the cycle of me “abandoning myself” to rush off and help others. This always sounds far more dramatic than it is – relationships are much more complex than psychological one-liners, best selling book titles, or labels. And in my experience, it is always the Giver that receives the gift. But the felt experience of leaving oneself, or not being rooted/grounded, remains, and is something that writing engages directly.
My decision to stay is a two day painful karmic lesson. I can’t sleep, breathe, or work. I don’t want to be that person (who chooses work over people). I hear the sadness in my Dad's voice on the phone, "Are you on the plane?" "I thought you were coming" touches the place of Truth in me – what's important. A place without thought, or my needing to make a decision. There is just “Decision.” Following this feeling and being with my Dad is my only job in this moment. And also breaks the loop of whatever thoughts remain about our first family, not being his first anymore. That is just an old bitter story, one of many that no longer serves me. What the decision really does is prioritize human relationships, and Heart.
This is my bottom line – My Root of Awareness.
So I will pack, and leave, and watch the Superbowl with my dad who can't see the screen. Watching the game is something we boys always did. But things have changed. Now, I will sit there as a 53-year-old woman, and load the Issue of TRIVIA, and write when I can.
It is what it is: How Radical.
Some days there are things you can only share with your dog. And yet, you write about them. This experience with my Dad, and writing this editorial, has been Consciousness Raising, a testament that the Personal is Political and Spiritual. A good reminder that seeking to explore the Radical – the Root – is not an intellectual exercise, but one that is deeply grounded in lived realities – in Bodies, in Energy, in Nature, in Spirit, and in the Stars – in Relationship with it All. And things change, are always changing. Maybe women already know this. And maybe we need to be reminded sometimes.
With Love,
LVL
About the author

Linda Van Leuven, Ph.D. (“LVL”) is a sociologist – a writer, teacher, and speaker. A recipient of the Distinguished Teaching Award at UCLA, she considers sociology a transformational science, and practices it as an art. She has written articles about personalized service work, workplace sexualization, negotiating relational boundaries, and the suburban metropolis. Her work has appeared in scholarly collections and urban style magazines, and often includes her photography.
Some days, she also works in a Mall, selling high-end designer eyewear and new perspectives. Her work under all conditions is to hold a big space – helping people envision and revision their lives. She loves rocks and dirt and plants; old rusty bits – things and ideas on their last leg – and crafting something new. She lives in Long Beach, California, and shares the path with her Border Collie/Retriever mix, Maizie, and their cat, Maya Fuego. To contact her, please visit www.lindavanleuven.com
Some days, she also works in a Mall, selling high-end designer eyewear and new perspectives. Her work under all conditions is to hold a big space – helping people envision and revision their lives. She loves rocks and dirt and plants; old rusty bits – things and ideas on their last leg – and crafting something new. She lives in Long Beach, California, and shares the path with her Border Collie/Retriever mix, Maizie, and their cat, Maya Fuego. To contact her, please visit www.lindavanleuven.com
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