“To learn to see, to learn to hear, you must…
Go into the wilderness alone.
For it is not I who teach you the ways of the Gods.
Such things are learned only in solitude.”
~Matsuwa, Huichol Shaman
Seek Wildness
Unfolding
I would love to live
Like a river flows,
Carried by the surprise
Of its own unfolding.
~John O’Donohue
Soul Bloom
Flow with the Energies of your Soul
Be True to You
Allow Yourself to Bloom
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“There’s no stopping the soul that radiates out and around us,
any more than one can stop the sweet perfume of a rose.
You could, of course, hold your nose.
But the rose will continue to exude its rich fragrance”
~Tom Cowan, Celtic Shaman
Dancing with Dad
My dad passed away a month ago. He had struggled to hang on and stay here long past the point of misery, so his passing was a relief in many ways. But there are still days when I have images of him in my head all day, and I miss him a lot. And other days I don’t think of him at all. Grief is a strange beast.
This morning I remembered a time many years ago when my dad tried to teach me how to jitterbug. Tried is the operative word here – I never could hold my torso still and get my feet to do what his were doing so perfectly. In my defense, I am not known for my coordination. Besides, I had a glass of wine before the dance instruction began!
Dad loved to tell people the tale of how his Navy buddy taught him to jitterbug. I always loved that story; Dad had joined the Navy at 18 and shipped out to California for basic training just as WWII ended. He went from a tiny town in southern Illinois to suddenly being in the Navy on a ship with hundreds of other guys. I imagine that it was all quite a shock for a young geeky country boy. One of his older shipmates took my dad under his wing. He helped my dad settle in to life in the Navy. And he also taught Dad how to jitterbug so he could impress the ladies.
I love the image of my skinny 18 year old Dad with his baby face, dressed in baggy jeans and a work shirt, dancing the jitterbug with some big beefy guy in the tightly cramped quarters of a battleship! LOL Life truly is stranger than fiction. The dance lessons definitely paid off because 40 years later my dad was still an amazing jitterbugger. 🙂
I miss Dad. I wish I had danced with him more. This morning, as I flashed on images of the handful of times that we danced together, I heard Dad’s voice in my ear. He said, “We’ll dance again.” And I suddenly saw an image of two energies dancing and flowing together and then apart, together and then apart. And as the energies danced, they morphed and changed shape, but I could tell that it was still the energy of Dad and I dancing together.
I think that image of my energy dance with Dad is actually a great lesson about the rhythm of life and death. We are energies that come together to dance on Earth, then part in death. Then we will come together again in a new place and dance a new dance. Over and over, we dance together in one form or another.
Later in the morning, I hike up one of my favorite trails, still thinking about my dad and missing him. I stop on a mesa to rest awhile. As I sit under the pines writing, I am startled by a hawk’s cry above me. I look up and see two hawks soaring and spiraling just above my rocky perch. The hawks appear to be dancing together on the wind. It’s a beautiful dance,.
Another memory surfaces as I watch the hawks; I flash on the image of my dad dancing with my mom. In my memory, they are both in their late sixties and have been together for over 40 years. When they danced together, they were so closely in synch that it was like watching a single body move and flow to the music.
The hawks are gone when I next look up from my writing. But a pair of young deer soon stumble upon me. They freeze for a moment. But when they realize that I wont harm them, they relax and forage for food a few feet behind me. Life dances on all around me.
I love you Dad. And I miss you. I miss your wide open country boy smile. I miss your stories. I just plain miss you! But I know in my heart it was time for you to move on. And I am ok – I know that you and I will dance together again soon.
It’s the Little Things
Last month, I took part in a class called “Getting Naked” that Julia Fehrenbacher offered online. Every day for 40 days, Julia gave us food for thought and creative writing assignments. It was amazing how much I learned about myself just from getting naked every day for 40 days. I highly recommend the class if Julia runs it again.
One of the first Getting Naked assignments that Julia gave us was to log 25 things we were grateful for each and every day. When I first received this assignment, my reaction was, “Ugh – that’s crazy! I don’t have the time or energy to do that!” I come from a family of pessimists; my parents were impressionable little kids during the Depression and never completely got over living on the edge of survival. Eighty years later, gratitude is still not something that flows naturally in my family. But I have been slowly working at getting more optimistic and more grateful. So, on second thought, I decided to try this gratitude log for a few days and see what happened.
Noticing and recording my gratitudes went smoothly for the first few days. It didn’t take very long and I actually enjoyed coming up with a list of things I was grateful for. But then, on about day 5, I hit a wall. I became completely and totally resistant to writing down ANYTHING else that I was grateful for, much less 25 items a day. So, I stopped. I stopped completely. And after a few days, I noticed how crappy my mood was. And how crappy it stayed. I was a complete whiny bitch!
About day 9, after days of no gratitude log and much complaining, a quiet little voice inside me began poking at me insistently. My little voice gently suggested that I focus on gratitude again. But I’m stubborn – very stubborn sometimes. It took my inner knowing 4-5 days to convince me to start logging gratitudes again. But I finally did. And I felt better! I actually felt a lot better every time I sat down and logged 25. So much better that some days I would log 30 or 40 or 50 items in my gratitude log.
And now, even though my Getting Naked class ended a few weeks ago, I continue to log gratitudes for at least a few minutes every day. So what happened? Why would I take the time to do this gratitude log every day? Here’s what I’ve discovered about gratitude; it can completely change how your life goes. Oprah was right. 🙂
I know it sounds trite and silly. And I don’t want you to think that I’m becoming a Pollyanna or anything (Pollyanna’s are definitely not allowed in my family). But focusing on what I’m grateful for softens me up in ways I can’t even put into words. For one thing, this gratitude log gets my mind out of the perpetual worry and whine track that I am so prone to fall into. It also opens my heart to what I love about the world. This one little thing helps my day just plain flow better.
Now when I wake up cranky, I find myself actively looking for something to be grateful for right away; I have learned that if I can “reset” my awareness to gratitude setting, my entire day will shift for the better. What I focus on truly does increase.
Here are a few little things that I’m grateful for today:
Brigit’s hurt paw is healing – no more limp!
a wonderful vet in Lyons
walking by the river with Brigit again
talking with my friend JW yesterday
time to write
something to write about
hummingbirds at the feeder
Buffalo ridge outside my window
hubby and daughter coming home tonight
my spiritual ‘sister’, JP
friendly checker at the market in Lyons
finding gorgeous organic kale at the market
thunder rumbling – a cool rain is approaching
seeing the stars last night
the lavender bushes in my yard
smell of pine in the air every evening
it’s still green here in July
writing of Celtic mystic Tom Cowan
watching my kids grow into adults
cycles and rhythms of the seasons
my husband David’s voice on the phone
my daughter Izze’s laugh
my son Henry texting me and telling me what’s up with him
granite rocks – I love granite!
hot chai in a mug
little surprise cottonwood tree that rooted in the garden
a sudden mountain rainstorm this afternoon
Getting Naked with you
Ahhh, I feel better. It truly is the little things that make the most difference in my life.
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How about you? What are you grateful for today?
Healing the Feminine
There is a sacred ground that is calling to us to heal now; it is the ground of feminine energies that hold and nourish life. This feminine ground can be found in the dirt of mother earth that holds and nourishes a tiny plant seedling, and within the womb of each woman that holds and nourishes a human embryo. Both plant and human require the sacred ground of mother to sprout and grow new life.
I read of a young woman being brutally raped and left for dead on a bus in India. I turn the page and read of Mother Earth being raped and polluted in a search for oil in the tar sands of Canada. And I feel the same energy in both acts; a hatred and a dishonoring of the feminine. It is the male warrior energy run rampant, forgetting the sacredness of the feminine body.
The feminine body has been objectified and mistreated for generations. Both the female womb and the dirt of Mother Earth have been dishonored and defiled again and again. Entire cultures and religions curse and blame the feminine for our human fall from grace. Those that don’t understand the gifts of the feminine have tried to stifle her wisdom and annihilate her power.
We fear what we do not understand. But how can we possibly kill what holds and nurtures each life? If we kill the mother, we kill ourselves. And even when we deny the sacredness of the feminine, the mother quietly continues to perform her sacred magic, holding ground for every new life.
Mother is so quiet, dark, mysterious and yet so nurturing; the feminine gifts look and act nothing like the male energies that are prized today. These feminine gifts are so misunderstood, and yet so necessary to heal this world. The power of the feminine lies within an expansive holding, supporting and nurturing energy that is difficult to pin down; visualize the warm safety of mama’s lap; feel into the quiet stability of the earthy ground and you will be on the right track. Knowing the feminine is best done on a visceral and emotional level.
It takes a quieting of the mind and a wondering heart to grasp the gifts of the feminine energies. Watch a mother with her baby; sense her gentle nurturing and quiet loving presence. Or go outside and sit with Mother Nature; just sit and be still. Breathe, watch and listen to Nature. The wisdom of the feminine whispers in the ripples of the water and the gentle opening of a flower. It is there in the growing tree limbs that arch toward the sky and the roots that burrow into mother’s dirt. Our earth mother holds a quiet space of wisdom, always there beneath the surface of life. She is a mysterious, flowing and constant presence.
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The ground of mother whispers that it is time now to heal the feminine. The mother is quietly, yet insistently calling to us. She is demanding that we remember her gifts and honor her sacredness or perish. It is time to heal our relationship with the mother.
Queen of Me
I have decided that it’s time to be the Queen of Me!
Seriously. I have been exploring the Celtic concept of being sovereign. This was a foreign idea to me until recently; something I had never even considered. But being sovereign in your own life is a key part of the Celtic belief system. And being of Scottish and Welsh descent, I tend to naturally resonate with all things Celtic. So, a few months ago, I began researching Celtic sovereignty. And I have been slowly teasing out what sovereignty means to me. And that’s how I became the Queen of Me. 🙂
My Celtic ancestors viewed Mother Earth herself to be the sovereign ruler of all of life; in ancient Ireland, mere mortal men were made kings only after they acknowledged and honored the sovereignty of the land. I completely agree with the idea of Mother Earth’s sovereignty; none of us would be alive on this planet were it not for the bounty of food, water and oxygen that our earthy mother provides. Mother Earth rules human life, whether we choose to acknowledge and honor her or not.
But what exactly do I mean by sovereignty? The dictionare defines it as:
Sovereignty n.
1. Supremacy of authority or rule as exercised by a sovereign or sovereign state.
2. Royal rank, authority, or power.
3. Complete independence and self-government.
4. A territory existing as an independent state.
Hmmm, yes to governing myself, yes to being independent and to holding royal rank, authority and power within myself. And the terms ‘state’ and ‘territory’ imply set boundaries to me, which every human is expected to honor and respect. Yes to honoring boundaries. A BIG Yes to sovereignty over my self and every part of my life.
When I dig further, I discover that ancient Celtic Shaman placed sovereignty at the center of the Celtic wheel of life. In many depictions of the Celtic wheel, the Tree of Life sits sovereign at the center or axis mundi of the circle. The Celtic Tree of Life holds the center, reaching limbs up and roots down to connect heaven with earth. And the tree spreads out horizontally from the center of it all, making connections with the 4 directions of north, east, south and west. I find it so beautiful and appropriate that my Celtic ancestors chose the tree to symbolize holding center and being sovereign.
A Celtic spirit wheel depicts the Celtic view of life in much the same way the Native North American medicine wheel depicts their view of life. When I look at one of these sacred wheels, or physically walk within one, I get a visceral sense of sovereignty; I understand in a deeper way how important it is for each of us to consciously own ourselves; to claim ownership of our bodies, our thoughts, our emotions, our actions and our beliefs as we live and interact in the world.
In their book, Goddesses Who Rule, Beverly Moon and Elisabeth Benard link the word “sovereign” to the Sanskrit word sva-raj, which means “self-rule”. Another meaning for raj is “luminous” or “radiance.” How fitting – embracing sovereignty is not just about ruling over one’s self but also allowing our inner luminous radiance to shine in the world. When we are sovereign, others are not allowed to control our fate. We empower ourselves. We give ourselves permission to shape ourselves and our fate and create the life we truly desire.
What would it look like if I were truly sovereign in my own life? Nelson Mandela comes to mind when I try to think of a person that embodies my idea of sovereignty. Nelson was never Celtic by any stretch of the imagination. But when I look back at his history, I see a man whose entire life revolved around being sovereign; he stayed true to himself and held on to his own knowing and dignity during decades of imprisonment. And after his release from prison, Nelson tirelessly championed the cause of the black people gaining sovereign rule in South Africa long after most men retire from public life.
Ultimately Nelson Mandela became an icon; a symbol of the transformation that is possible when a simple human being lives in the knowing of their true wisdom and worth. He held onto himself and his knowing, even when ridiculed and abused for his views. And he transformed his world. For me, Nelson embodies sovereignty in every sense of the word. As he, himself once put it…
“I am the captain of my Soul.” ~Nelson Mandela
I claim sovereignty over my Self. I choose to captain my Soul through this life in the quiet, eloquent way that Nelson Mandela embodied. I claim sovereignty. And I understand that just my intention of claiming sovereignty over my life changes everything. My journey shifts and deepens. This is another turn along my spiral path.
Celtic Tree of Life
an original design by Welsh artist Jen Delyth ©1990
www.celticartstudio.com
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Invictus
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
by
William Ernest Henley