My mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in 2006. She made her final transition last week, after years of inhabiting both this world and the world beyond. This poem is for you Mom:
Daughter of the Mother
I am the daughter of the mother who sees beneath
Raven’s eye shows me the way through
To the other side where down is up
And time can stand still
Until the time is right.
I am the daughter of the mother who sings in my bones
“The way we see the world shapes the way we treat it. If a mountain is a deity, not a pile of ore; if a river is one of the veins of the land, not potential irrigation water; if a forest is a sacred grove, not timber; if other species are biological kin, not resources; or if the planet is our mother, not an opportunity – then we will treat each other with greater respect. Thus is the challenge, to look at the world from a different perspective.”
~David Suzuki
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I climbed up Buffalo Ridge yesterday. I nicknamed this ridge that shelters our home to the southeast Buffalo Ridge months ago – it just has the energy of buffalo roaming free for me. Well, yesterday I climbed to the top of Buffalo Ridge. And now, as I stare out my window at that ridge, it looks completely different to me. Maybe it’s because I’ve been talking about climbing this ridge for 2 years and I FINALLY did it! Yes, that’s part of the change.
But my internal shift involves more than just accomplishing something that I set out to do; Buffalo Ridge is now known to me in a completely different way. I have an intimate relationship with this ridge now; I look at Buffalo Ridge and see the rocks I scrambled over to reach the very top. And I see the circle of old pines that I sat beneath and rested. I remember startling the deer that were bedded down on its slope in the heat of mid-day. And I remember all the cactus just on the verge of blooming as well as the little white flowers already in full bloom.
Buffalo Ridge Flowers
Today I look out the window and I don’t see a ridge that I climbed. Instead I see an ally that watches over my home and neighborhood. I see a friend who shared some beautiful secrets with me. I am connected to Buffalo Ridge in a new way, and it will never again look like ‘just a hill’ to me!
“Let me bring you songs from the woods…” ~Jethro Tull
A bit of serendipity…
This morning I ended up taking a hike in Chautauqua Park. I had an appointment, but the Universe had other plans for me! I was already in Boulder when I found out that my morning appointment was cancelled. What to do with 2 hours? What to do? So many possibilities!
Flagstaff Mountain called out to me, and I found myself driving to Chautauqua. It was a beautiful morning to be outside, sunny and cool with a few inches of day old snow blanketing the mountain. As I began hiking straight uphill in snow, I questioned the wisdom of my decision. But legs and lungs soon adjusted to the climb and the view of the Flatirons was enough to keep me going.
Along the way, I relished the silence – what is it about snow on the ground that makes the woods so still? I felt like I was walking in sacred silence. Step by step, I picked my way carefully up and down the snowy slopes. Walking in snow became my morning meditation practice. With each step, my mind cleared and my heart opened wider.
Mama Pine
Down in a hollow where I have never hiked before, I met this old Mama pine tree. I stood and listened to her view of the world for awhile.
I leaned against Mama pine’s trunk, listening and looking up into her branches, After 5 minutes in her space, I felt like I had been at a meditation retreat for days! And my heart opened even wider. Such is the calming, cleansing power of old trees.
Tree Web
Thank you Mama pine for sharing some of your essence with me.
You helped me make it a magic morning.
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“…a Sign that the Universal Mind has written you into the Passion Play”
