Wild Women Soaps

I wrote a little riff about the stupid economy in the Wild Women Soaps E-newsletter today and got some great comments back, so I thought I’d expand a bit here.

The economy sucks. Painfully. No other way to say it. Every single person I know has felt it in the last few years, some more than others, but in every case—it’s been negative. People closing businesses, being laid off, losing contracts, being furloughed, losing their house, taking a crap job to get by, trying to find any job, being denied for a loan, losing credit, losing pride, losing their shirts, losing their minds…

The economy just simply sucks. I was, thankfully, raised by a woman who lives and breathes the belief that money, seriously, does not matter. At varying points in my life, I have realized she was entirely full of garbage and while money may not be THE most important thing, it certainly does matter and it certainly does help smooth the path. But my mother’s ability to sit with literally nothing of monetary value and smile, and shine and (love this one…) actually shrug and say, “Who cares? Its just money,” has stayed with me. And is particularly helpful now.

Who does care? I’m not convinced anyone with the power to actually affect the economy truly cares. So I’m recommending a daily pleasure plan: take excruciatingly good care of yourself (yes, you), slow down, enjoy the conversation, the view, the taste, the breeze, the moment. Choose to be present. Let water and scent heal and recharge. Escape to the shower. Float in the tub.

We’re bigger than this sucky economic mess. We’re stronger than the dollar. We have far too much goodness to put out into the world to be embittered or stunted by mere circumstance. Economy problems? Whatever.

Survive and shine.

~The Wild Muse

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Relax. Breathe. Just tell me… what do you see?

If you’re reading this, you must realize that I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about soap. That time is fairly evenly split between pondering scent blends, imagining ingredient combinations and ‘visualizing the visual’ of each bar.

The visual element, as any soap-maker would tell you, is the most frustrating, most unpredictable, most curse-producing and yet most enchanting of them all. The visual is the most difficult to reproduce batch after batch. It is, in a word, maddening. But I wouldn’t give it up. This picture demonstrates why.

As a holiday gift last year, my kids received a game called Rorschach: The Inkblot Party Game. This was an instant hit with my tribe. You lay out a series of Inkblots and are asked questions like, “Which one would you cuddle with?” The strategy happens when you try to predict what the other players would pick and it’s a riveting psycho-analyzing good time.

Last night I cut this batch of Plum Spice soap. (Yes, Holiday Soaps are filling the curing shelves in the studio, available October 1st, order early, when they’re gone they’re gone!). Plum Spice is one of my delicately swirled batches and quite literally, comes out different every time. I hold my breath as I unmold the soap and wait to see.

This time, due to the Rorschach effect no doubt, when I cut these soap logs and laid them side by side my mind went CRAZY! I was spellbound. I saw so many things! I had to grab the camera, yell for assistance to hold the logs perfectly together and I snapped (no exaggeration) 43 photos… I got lost in the soap-blot possibilities.

So, I’ll ask again… what do you see?

Leave a comment. I’d love to know.

~The Wild Muse

Fall schmall. It’s September but you wouldn’t know it by walking outside. 105 still. It’s the desert and honestly, the real fall is a good month away so please stop with the news stories of sweatered children skipping back to school. My kids started school in flip flops, coated in SPF 90 and packing two gallons of water each so they wouldn’t dehydrate on the way.

While I, more than any of you cooler-location-smarty-pants-types, am anticipating fall, l must insist on waiting until it actually gets here before any celebrations. Labor Day weekend is especially annoying (stop those outdoor BBQ news stories as well)– it’s a three day weekend, we’ve been cooped up in air conditioning for months, our minds all THINK it’ll be pleasant outside because, gee September is supposed to be nice, but NO way. The only thing getting barbequed around here is my skin in this infernal sun.

And my attitude.

Which brings me to my point. I understand folks living in cloudy areas have their environmentally induced dangers, like depression, requiring the use of those nifty happy-lights. Well us desert dwellers, we have our own environmentally induced danger, especially prevalent in fake-fall September. Our affliction: acute sense of humor loss.

Its true. In June every one is like, “Hey isn’t warm? Ha-ha, here’s summer!” In July we consume ourselves with fascination over just how high the thermometer will go (and the corresponding electric bill). In August we’re truly getting unhappy but the monsoon storms offer some reprieve. However, by the time it’s September, and it’s still unbearably hot. It’s just plain not funny any more.

Which brings me to my real point. Survival tactics. Wild women know how to survive. And survive well. My favorite soap every single summer is Desert Aloe. With its fresh, light herbal-floral scent and wonderful cooling healing aloe vera, it’s my daily version of a nifty happy-light. Try Desert Aloe, especially if you’re heated up (and it doesn’t have to be sun induced). It’ll cool you down just long enough to find a tiny piece of your original sense of humor. And maybe, just maybe, that’ll hold you through a few more days until its possible to really fall into fall. The real fall. Let’s hope so…

~The Wild Muse

As much as I attempt to make it so, my life is not partitioned. My roles, my jobs, my incarnations blend and merge daily. And I am, when I stop to think about it, grateful for this. My soap artist-self feeds my intentional mom-self that feeds my leadership educator-self, that feeds my soul friend-self, that feeds my seeker explorer-self and so on…

In surprising pockets of what first appears to be segmented experience, I find nourishment for all my selves. A recent example: A few weeks ago I had a gigantic challenge to facilitate a training for a group of training facilitators… (I’ll give you a moment with that.)

These facilitators came with their individual and collective talents, stories and chips on shoulders and we spent 5 days together. Very together.

I had some solid material to rely on, but the rest was instinct and in-the-moment process creation. What unfolded was nothing short of incredible and wrought with gifts: opening, sharing, unlearning, challenging, risking, evolving, becoming. *I* learned so much. I learned the things we attach to “learning” sometimes serve us and sometimes hold us back; I learned the concept of “old school” vs. “new school” is an illusion; I learned the work we do is important to who we are whether we think we’re good at it or not; I learned the process of growth flies different flags sometimes all in a single breath; I learned the price of risk is finding yourself amongst allies; I learned the most solid rock is porous…

And I learned soap makes people smile. Which took me back to the soap studio with the young eye of an old learner. I’ve been making soap for over 10 years, and I’m good AND I know I have much to learn. Much to create. Much to think about. Much to bathe with. Much to risk and fail at. Much to soak in.

Learning is wildness.

~The Wild Muse

Time to wake up sleepy heads. Dust off the computer screen (and Wild Women Soaps blog), open up the tired eyes and breathe in fresh air. No better way, my friends, than meeting a brand new soap. And this soap is not kidding around. It fairly YELLS at you…
meet Wake Up Call.

No snooze button here. Get up! Wake up! Get clean. Get going. Eucalyptus, peppermint, and tea tree guarantee you are living, moving, vibing, and positively AWAKE.

Years ago I made a pure Peppermint soap I called Peppermint Tea but I struggled with the scent holding in the bar and the ‘sweetness’ that aging peppermint developed was downright annoying— I mean it’s nice, but not the same peppery, snappy, in-your-face event that fresh peppermint provides. Then, a couple years ago a friend hounded me into making her an eucalyptus soap, which I experimented with, but gracious folks, straight eucalyptus can singe the fine hairs right outta the inside of your nose. A bit much, I called it.

Simultaneously, in my fickle pursuit of what I “like,” which changes by the nano-second, I accidentally switched from using my Fresh Orange Lip Lust Lip Butter to Tea Tree Lip Lust Lip Butter. Accidentally? Yes, indeed— up too late at night labeling tubes of Lip Butter and mislabeled a set. It happens. An accident, I called it.

Next morning on the way to work in the blistering heat of a mid-Arizona summer, I wondered why my lips were tingling and rejoicing with rapture. As I mentally retraced my Lip Butter steps I figured out it wasn’t Fresh Orange (which is glorious, by the way) but actually Tea Tree, which I’ve used before but never appreciated like I did in that moment. Healed lips, I called it.

Then the idea hit me…. Combine those two pesky animals (Peppermint & Eucalyptus) throw in a dash of Tea Tree for healing magic and low and behold—greatness. A soap that will not be denied.

I dare you.

Wake Up.

~The Wild Muse