A Walk in the World

T.S. Eliot and Ouroboros

2012-01-26T18:50:00.001-05:00

I have long admired the richness of Eliot's poetry, especially "Little Gidding." When I read it, the Ouroboros floods my mind, and I am reminded how we constantly shed skin and birth ourselves. Here's the last stanza of the poem, which so neatly and beautifully captures this.

What we call the beginning is often the end
And to make and end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from. And every phrase
And sentence that is right (where every word is at home,
Taking its place to support the others,
The word neither diffident nor ostentatious,
An easy commerce of the old and the new,
The common word exact without vulgarity,
The formal word precise but not pedantic,
The complete consort dancing together)
Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning,
Every poem an epitaph. And any action
Is a step to the block, to the fire, down the sea's throat
Or to an illegible stone: and that is where we start.
We die with the dying:
See, they depart, and we go with them.
We are born with the dead:
See, they return, and bring us with them.
The moment of the rose and the moment of the yew-tree
Are of equal duration. A people without history
Is not redeemed from time, for history is a pattern
Of timeless moments. So, while the light fails
On a winter's afternoon, in a secluded chapel
History is now and England.

With the drawing of this Love and the voice of this
Calling

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always—
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flame are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.

Celtic Wisdom from Zimmer Bradley, Robert Graves, and Amergin

2012-01-24T21:35:00.000-05:00

It's been a week spent nestled in my Celtic roots, reading new treasures and writing new ones. For those of you who have not yet read Marion Zimmer Bradley's The Mists of Avalon, do seek it out. While long (clocking in just shy of 900 pages), it is marvelous take on the Arthurian myth cycle but told from the viewpoint of the women nearest Arthur. I followed it up with The White Goddess by Robert Graves to read more about the goddess in Celtic myth cycles. In the latter, I discovered the Song of Amergin, which I've heard told differently and was happy to learn this version. It pulses so vividly to me that I know it sings to my ancestors embedded in my own DNA.

The Song of Amergin

I am a stag of seven tines,

I am a wide flood on a plain,

I am a wind on the deep waters,

I am a shining tear of the sun,

I am a hawk on a cliff,

I am fair among flowers,

I am a god who sets the head afire with smoke.

I am a battle waging spear,

I am a salmon in the pool,

I am a hill of poetry,

I am a ruthless boar,

I am a threatening noise of the sea,

I am a wave of the sea,

Who but I knows the secrets of the unhewn dolmen ?

Gorgeous Message with Messenger Owls

2012-01-19T21:15:00.001-05:00

I came across this on YouTube last night and fell in love with its animation and accompanying song "White Owl" by Josh Garrels. Enjoy! Lyrics are below.

When the night comes,
and you don't know which way to go
Through the shadowlands,
and forgotten paths,
you will find a road

Like an owl you must fly by moonlight with an open eye,
And use your instinct as your guide, to navigate the ways that lays before you,
You were born to take the greatest flight

Like a serpent and a dove, you will have wisdom born of love
and carry visions from above into the places no man dares to follow
Every hollow in the dark of night
Waiting for the light
Take the flame tonight

Child the time has come for you to go
You will never be alone
Every dream that you have been shown
Will be like living stone
Building you into a home
A shelter from the storm

Like a messenger of peace, the beauty waits be released
Upon the sacred path you keep, leading deeper into the unveiling
As your sailing, across the great divide

Like a wolf at midnight howls, you use your voice in darkest hours
To break the silence and the power, holding back the others from their glory
Every story will be written soon
The blood is on the moon
Morning will come soon

Child the time has come for you to go
You will never be alone
Every dream that you have been shown
Will be like living stone
Building you into a home
A shelter from the storm

Tarot Card Pull for 2012

2012-01-04T20:43:00.000-05:00

Near the beginning of each new year, I've been in the habit of pulling a tarot card to serve as a guide for the coming days and months. (For curious souls out there, here is what I pulled in 2011, 2010, and 2009.

This year I pulled the Ace of Pentacles from my trusty Mythic Tarot deck.

What we see:

In this card, we see a merman (presumably Poseidon) who is half in the water. There is a summered scene behind him, complete with green mountains and fertile fields. The water is clear and there are four bunches of ripe grapes creeping across the rocks. Poseidon holds a large gold coin with a pentacle in it above his crown.

Interpretation:
According to the Mythic Tarot book, this card "augurs the possibility of material achievement, because the raw energy of this kind of work is now available to the individual. Often money is made available through a legacy or some other source, couple with the ingenuity and persistence to utilize these resources effectively."

Poseidon, according to some mythologies, is a fertility god, husband of Mother Earth and lord of the physical universe. He is a raw force of nature; this card seems to suggest that the energy that was brought forth creatively will turn "its immense creative potency downward into the world, and it is this fresh emerging need to concretize and create in the manifest world that stands behind all our material ambitions. The individual who can manifest money and make things happen on a worldly level experiences something of the power of this ancient earthy god, and the Ace of Pentacles heralds the eruption of fresh ambition toward material creation and success."

Additionally, I think this card might be saying that it is time to bring treasure up and out of creative, life giving waters. Perhaps even from the realm of the unconscious. Poseidon, being half man and half fish, certainly can live in two worlds. There is bounty to be had here. A very hopeful card, indeed, and rather synchronicitous since I dreamed this morning that I pulled a gorgeous dragon sea creature from salt water and brought it ashore.

My hope here is that this card is signaling success with my creative work in the dream community, poetry contests, and with this book I'm writing for young adults. My intention is that at end's year, I'll will have publications to share with all of you. May it be so!

Off on adventures

2011-12-17T07:33:00.001-05:00

I'm nearing 60,000 words on my book and it's a pretty groovy feeling. Working on this book has taught me that I'm not really in control of the process or the characters. They appear to have free will and do things and say things that I type out and then lean back in my chair and go, "Whoa! Where did that come from?"

Up next is the climax. I've been procrastinating writing it because I have a hunch about where I want to take this, but I'm certain these characters will end up surprising me.

The end of 2011 nears. I'll be off the grid through the end of the year --
out in the wild and stomping about in the soul grounds.

May the rest of your year be blessed and bright!

black madonna

2011-11-23T09:21:00.002-05:00

black goddess tree.

slicked with offerings --

unintentionally standing out

in a grove

of green,

and orange,

and yellow.

the talk of the neighborhood.

she oils her skin

smooth, like ebony,

and tries not to feel shame

when the other trees

gather and gossip about

her bare-boned seduction,

the trim quality of her branches,

her inviting, slim trunk.

ostracized,

she receives few invitations

to festivals and petal recitals.

she pretends not to mind

and fills her time digging

in her roots.

she will need the depth

if she is to stand tall.

the birds know.

they can feel the vibration

of her grief as they roost in her

dark limbs.

they take pity

and fill her obsidian pain

with color --

brilliant reds,

cerulean,

mustard --

camouflaging her

from restless eyes

and greedy lips.

like wings on the updraft,

still, she rises.

serpent girl

2011-11-22T12:57:00.001-05:00

little serpent girl.

at once

olive,

jungle,

asparagus,

sea,

and sap.

snaking upward

through bone

and skin,

coiling lazily

in the center

and shedding
old skin.

scales
dripping
like
tears
so
the
fire snake
can
rise.

(copyright 2011)

scythe

2011-11-19T00:40:00.003-05:00

puma-eyed moon,

upstaging orion

with its crater-flecked stare.

north always shines true.

winter field.

corn stalk skeletons

dance up noise,

and shiver

as matter is

stripped,

and sucked,

and teased

from their

brittle,
bony fibers.

there is no clinging.

no weeping.

watch.
be there.

the bending is fluid,
graced movement.

let go of the reins.

just
let
go.

Stretching the Mind

2011-11-17T23:43:00.002-05:00

The peace of this moment can be achieved without travel.

The brain does not actually know the difference between

breathing in this scene in reality and doing so in your imagination.

eagle storm

2011-11-04T23:41:00.005-04:00

i race

across the plains

on a blue-coated horse.

sage is crushed

under hoof,

scenting the air

with something

that cannot be named.

a storm on the horizon.
i leap into its heart

and touch the thunder beings.

the rain pauses
its fall
and gifts me with

a gown embellished
with a million raindrops --

all with a universe inside.

an eagle shrieks in the sky

and talons clash together

as the plunge and return begins.

"wait for me,"

it urges.

"i am coming."

and i trust that this is so.

aho.

(copyright 2011)

samhain -- oh, i miss you so

2011-10-31T21:47:00.005-04:00

samhain.

celtic new year.

dark side of the moon.

a day to feast

and remember

the dead.

kids knock on my door.

"trick or treat,"

batman, more kid, says,

and a fairy princess

holds up her bag expectedly.

a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.

this is the new way of doing an old thing.

i feel emotional tonight,

remembering my grandfather,

and all my relations,

even those i never met

but who still walk with me.

later,

with love and a kiss,

i pour a hefty amount

of irish whiskey into the earth

for their feast in Tír na nÓg.

a few salt tears

fall into the mix.

oh, i miss you so.

le grá go deo

Saol fada chugat

Cha d'dhùin doras nach d'fhosgail doras

(copyright 2011)

for bear on a friday morning

2011-10-28T01:45:00.005-04:00

old growth pine

and i'm tucked within

the bearded mossy ones.

bear is ahead of me,

scratching itself against wood

to mark the way.

it leaves behind hair

that i reach for

and hold in my hand

like gretel.

faster now,

i jog to keep up

and watch

as moccasins form

over sneakers

and claws

form over

the leather that was
just there.

deeper.

further.

wilder we go.

i stop

as the bear joins

the great council.

"sit with us, young one."

great woman,

ursa major,

comes down out of the caelum

and heats the center.

sparks of light

flicker and dance

us into seed stars

that form

the dna of her hide

and the teeth of her

careful mouth.

i look around
and i'm out there
in the sky
with the seven sisters,
winking back at myself.

all is wild
and right.
aho.

(copyright 2011)

Shifting the gaze

2011-10-27T17:34:00.000-04:00

Breathe.

ur-intimitat in der seele

2011-10-22T20:46:00.001-04:00

betwixt and between now.

the man in the bog

holds out a golden fish,

"take it, lass.

claim yours."

and i do.

scales become skin

and the gold fashions

itself into a drum

that pulses

in the pulmonary cave.

grandmother sits there

and lights a heart fire

that burns the way clear.

wild galloping in the distance.

i am aonghus's daughter

of the stone and cliff clan.

the ancestors step through.

the veil is thin

and the bones in my body

are theirs.

autumnal tumble

2011-10-02T00:44:00.003-04:00

i wake
to a hypnogogic vision
of animals on stampede
out of the great cosmic cave.

rumbling,
tumbling,
twisting --
the vibratory
reverberations
launch me wild
out of my bed
to join the migration.

i run alongside
a purple horse
and hurdle myself on,

clinging to its mane

unbridled and unbound in the night,
free with my delight.

woman ends.
what bones are these?
mine?
its?
hair flies
who can tell its owner?
who cares.

hooves and feet
fly so fast
that time blurs
and slows
and stops.

in the dreamtime now
with a band of feral brumbies,
the alpha leads the way
through the mystery
and fear falls away
like autumn's dead.

(copyright 2011)

for Grandmother

2011-09-25T23:38:00.004-04:00

sunday night and

i am singing to

the water spirits in

my bathwater.

lulling them with

soul music

and thanks.

but,

then,

a flute lulls me

out of the bath

and onto a journey

to meet the grandmother

i know in my dreams.

she breathes

somewhere in dakota lands --

where the thunderbirds fly

and black elk once prayed.

one horse shrieks by

on his dappled gray pony.

his heart-seared song becomes

wind on the plains.

i run wild after its words.

"come to me, brother.

come to me, sister.

speak to me."

they gather near my hands

like appalachian fireflies.

whispers, so many whispers.

i pull them to my ear.

"tell me your story, little ones,"

and i weep to hear it:

"i search for the buffalo.

where are you?

be the buffalo

so i can find you!"

i cry for the wolf

and howl

for those buried in teeth.

buried in braids.

buried with hatchets

and guns.

and for those never buried

but who inevitably

became the land

that whispers history through

the night air.

mitakuye oisin.

(copyright 2011)

fighte fuaighte ("woven into and through each other")

2011-09-24T21:55:00.004-04:00

gaelic.

my father's tongue.

fado. fado.

anam cara, listen to my tale.

once upon a time.

in a lonely boat

sat a fisherman

who had drifted far

from known waters.

he did not know

that other fishermen

stayed away from this bay.

"haunted waters,"

they would murmur.

oblivious, he sat and

his hook drifted

and sank

and flew

with the currents,

reaching down

to grasp and settle

in the bones

of skeleton woman's rib cage.

he pulled,

happy to have snagged such a large fish.

surely he would be seen a hero

in the eyes of his hungry people.

but skeleton woman

resented the disturbance

and struggled and thrashed

against forced verticality.

her stubborn action

tangled the lines

and tangled her bones

and the kayak above

bucked

and

shook.

yet, for all her fighting,

she continued to rise.

he did not see her bald head surface.

he did not see her coral-boned body

and the crustaceans on her old ivory teeth

until she clattered before him.

"aggggghhhh!" he wailed

and paddled hard for shore.

but no matter how he maneuvered his kayak,

she stayed with him,

blowing breath across the waters.

he leaped out when he reached shore

and ran across frozen earth.

and she followed behind him,

bumpety-bump in the night.

into his ice tunnel he crawled,

and she crawled behind him,

knee in her ribs,

foot over her elbow,

heel on her shoulder.

at some point

his fear abandoned him

and he looked kindly upon
this boney woman his lines had ensnared.

he sang, "oh, na, na, na.

oh, na, na."

as he gently untangled her

and dressed her in furs

when her bones were set.

and she

laid still

and said nothing,

praying he would not

take her out to the rocks

and break her apart completely.

drowsy from his labor and terror,

he soon drifted to the land of dreams.

she watched as some action therein

led him to shed a tear.

with a bony finger,

she reached out,

caught it, and drank it up greedily.

this single tear was living water,

and she drank, and drank, and drank

until her thirst retired.

and then she began to sing

and sang to fill her body with flesh --

with breasts long enough to throw over her shoulders.
sang for hair and pale moonbeam feet.

sang for the ripe divide between her legs

and all the other things a woman needs.

and when she was done,

she sang the sleeping man's clothes off

and tangled in the skins with him,

joining together in a good and lasting way.

...dadme la muerte que me falta...
so that the life i agreed to can live.

(inspired by and built upon clarissa pinkola estes's telling of "skeleton woman,"
which can be found in her book Women Who Run With the Wolves.)

Nearing emergence

2011-09-21T00:39:00.004-04:00

waking with taiowa in the shell,

i stir in the void.

form without form.

immeasurability.

no-thing.

spider woman
spies me with her reflector eyes
and spits creative wisdom
onto my forming form.

i use her silken threads

to leap from thought to possibility

and back to the muse.

gestation is a heady ripening.

embryonic dreams
bring me to the she-eagle

and to the two eggs

standing expectantly

amidst twig and straw.

"this is what rests for you --

the sky and the star."

vibrations shimmy into word
and crawl slowly up my calcium antenna,
tuning me into the primordial "yawp."

shell life is a funny thing.

it's soon to be shelved.

and in the cracking,

emergence.

Night Swimming

2011-09-18T23:00:00.001-04:00

i swim in deep waters.

layers of green blue darkness swirl around

my copper limbs and hair.

purposeful strokes

of an Otherworld tattoo artist.

down.

i drift.

to sedna --

to where she fusses

and fumes

in coral

and sits in piles of

briny bones.

oh, skeleton lady!

let me sing to you

and comb the tangles

of your squid hair.

release the meat

and let it rise.

unfreeze the sacred hearth!

light heart fires that burn bright!

climb with me

into my kayak

and sail away on waters

lit by the he-moon.

come to the feast

laid out by your people.

taste the waters

we drop in your seal

for tribute

and know peace.

(copyright 2011)

Whereabouts and a poem

2011-09-11T23:59:00.004-04:00

A friend recently commented that I've been quiet here. He'd wondered where I'd gone. My apologies! The truth is that I've been lost in my imagination -- writing.

I decided a few months ago that it was time to dedicate myself more seriously to my writing than just spontaneous spits and spurts. Since then, I've been running with a group of characters in two different stories -- ideas that came to me in my dreams. It's playful work. I'm really enjoying these characters and the stories they're sharing with me. I plan to one day share them with you in a published format.

In the meantime -- a poem:

labyrinth

skipping rains

kiss my fingertips as i lean out

and talk to the

grandmother tree at 11pm.

she calls me "dearie"

and dries my tears with her leaves.

they leave chlorophyll residue on my cheeks

and i tangle myself up in her arthritic branches

to feel earth's heartbeat.

there is no separation.

i sink like alice

into the underworld.

there, a minotaur asks me to walk

the labyrinth with him.

we stroll like old friends

and he tells me the point

is always to come back to yourself.

in the center i meet a masked man

who tells me he asks.

"asks what?"

"precisely."

there are no answers here.

boreas sweeps up under my feet,

carries me home

to my slumbering self

and to the faeries

that dance on my bed

and whisper riddles in my ears
while i dream.

inside.

outside.

step forward.

turn around.

hold tight.

there's another corner to turn.

turning, turning, spinning.

i get tagged.

"you're it!"

New Website Up and Running

2011-04-28T17:35:00.000-04:00

It's official, folks!

Someone once told me how important it is for each of us to share our gifts with the world. I took this to heart and created a healing arts business dedicated to helping others heal, reconnect to themselves, their dreams, and the world at large.

Here's my site (still a work in progress):

http://www.bridgebetweentwoworlds.com/index.html

DREAMS -- new blog/website forthcoming

2011-03-30T22:49:00.000-04:00

Hi, All.

For the last few years, I've been using this blog as a creative and sometimes personal outlet for musings on the esoteric and metaphysical. It's been a great relief to know that I could come here and share thoughts and creative works with all of you. Even better have been your exchanges, dreams, and stories. It's been such fun! We all grow from those interactions, methinks, which only further convinces me that we're questing through life for that something familiar that we cannot always name.

Since we're pilgrims on a shared path, it makes sense for me to expand this site's original purpose and make it more communal and interactive. I want it to serve and help all of us as we make our way down our respective red roads.

I also want to stay in the flow of what's feeding me these days, which is DREAMS. There's some big mojo energy there for me and fed, methinks, by my work with a local Jungian. Maybe that energy for dreams is there for you, too. Think about it -- if it's true that we each dream between 5-7 times a night, then that's at least 35 dreams a week that we can sift through to find nuggets of wisdom about our lives. I don't know about you, but I am certainly open to additional insight into my life! The dreamscape, according to some researchers, is one aspect of ourselves which is not affected by the ego. The ego can't touch this terrain, which makes it even more compelling to mine and journey through.

It's my intention to have a new blog dedicated solely to the topic of dreams up and running within the next two weeks. I plan to include all sorts of resources, articles, links, and techniques to help you remember your dreams, share them, and learn from them. I invite guest writers or those willing to share dreams with the collective community in hope of gaining new insight. What would interest you? What would you like to see? What workshops would help you expand your own personal growth?

I am INTERESTED!!! Send your thoughts my way!

So I DREAM!

The Bones of My Mother

2011-03-08T19:37:00.004-05:00

athena was born of man

only because her father grew envious

of her mother

and ate her.

down the esophageal pipe

did metis tumble --

landing in bile,

pregnant with wisdom.

but some women

don't disintegrate

so easily

when swallowed whole by man.

instead

metis nurtured pallas,

gifting her with weapons and verve.

gestation soon gave way to cranium kicks,

giving daddy such a headache

and he had his head split open with an axe--

a creative way to resolve a migraine.

goddess leaped into the world

with a war cry

and purpose,

the product of a botched forgetting.

poor athena.

playmate of boys,

and keeper of athens

and owls.

so comfortable in the world of men
that she forgot her mother's bones,
leaving her father's biology
to dissolve them,

which it did in the
form of ambrosial gloop
that the god
neatly wiped away.

Who We Really Are...

2011-02-23T22:14:00.000-05:00

I've been reading much of Lynn Andrew's work lately--most recently "Star Woman"--and I was struck by the following statement made by Agnes Whistling Elk, one of Lynn's teachers. I loved this passage for its world view and enjoyed the reminder that there are more possibilities for our lives than we allow. Enjoy!

"When you are born, you come from the void. You come from the mystery. You are born out of formlessness from the center of the spiral. You dress yourself with the fine feathers of time and space, and you take on a mind. You think are mind. Your earth walk is a spiraling outward from this center. As you progress, you become more and more earthbound. You take on form through experience and conditioning from your environment. You become encrusted with addictions and what you call time. To stay in form you must develop a mind that is your ego, which again is a function of time" (pp. 65-66).

The passage goes on to share how one can smash this concept of time by dissolving the ego. When the ego has been dissolved, then one can take on the form of other egos and become a shape shifter. And, when that happens, you can become a part of another's dream. For as Agnes later put it, "How do you know that you're not a shape shifter in one form or another? Maybe you simply don't remember what you are dreaming?" (p. 66)

Aho!

"IN"lightenment from de Chardin

2011-02-09T00:33:00.000-05:00

"Throughout my whole life, during ever minute of it, the world has been gradually lighting up and blazing before my eyes until it has come to surround me, entirely lit up from within."

"The immense hazard and the immense blindness of the world are only an illusion."

~ Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

American Shaman

2011-02-06T17:44:00.000-05:00

I just finished reading "American Shaman," which describes the work and life story of Bradford Keeney. This is one of those books that make you pause in the reading of it because there's so much to SOAK UP and ABSORB! In fact, I dog-eared so many pages in my library copy that the smartest idea seems to be to share some of the words with you

"The most common practices currently in use by indigenous healers around the world are:

1. We should be devoting our efforts to honoring the greater mystery in life, rather than to promote understanding

2. Instead of helping people who are upset to calm down, we should encourage them to become more aroused

3. Talk doesn't always help, but dancing, singing, touching, and transcendent prayer are where the action often takes place

4. The role of the helper and healer should include many facets -- as guide, coach, minister, counselor, physician, musician, and trickster

5. Homework, when employed, should involve ordeals, trials, tribulations, and "shamanic tasks," none of which have to make sense to the person

6. People in trouble take themselves far too seriously, and any intervention should take place on a level of play

7. All helping should be a sacred enterprise, in which the spiritual world is integrated into the body, the mind, the soul, and Nature

8. Ultimately, helping and healing are about love; they are about being a part of community (p. xi)

"The history of shamanism is about the dismemberment of self. You must go through your own death. That is one hell of an ordeal, I gotta tell you. I can't imagine anyone deliberately choosing this kind of journey" (p. 48).

"Make me a vessel. Allow me to be useful to this person" (p. 77).

Ways to activate and nourish the sense of mystery:

1. Introduce more rhythm into your life.

2. Learn to gently (and sometimes wildly) rock your body.

3. Dance, think, and pray in the dark.

4. Bring on the music.

5. Faithfully write down a request for guidance, and carry this invitation with you throughout the day.

6. Bring more absurdity into your daily rituals.

7. Be irreverent with the "why" questions in your life.

8. Remind yourself, constantly, that you will never understand the big things in life (p. 154).

"What Keeney, or any self-respecting shaman, tried to do is get people to abandon their usual ways of doing things so as to create a greater sense of mystery and awe for everyday activities (even for watching a late-night talk show). It is the shaman's (or the therapist's, the teacher's, or the parent's) job to juggle and toss things around in such a way that sacred moments become possible. We don't do this through the usual channels of organizing things for people but through disorganizing them. We must create the possibility of surprise. It can be through a dream, a sudden discovery, or an impulse. The overriding goal is to bring mystery and magic to people's lives" (p. 156).

"As a shaman, I say to people that it is important to enact respect for the deepest parts of our minds and hearts. We need to show and tell the source of our dreams that we take it seriously. We give it the same attention we would anything in the physical world. It's like saying, 'You, my deepest unconscious mind, have spoken and now I am showing you that I listened. Now I will act on your behalf" (pp. 198-99).

Reading the Toltec Prophecies

2011-01-27T22:58:00.002-05:00

it's been busy. weeks blur. i rise. breathe. work. muse. breathe. sweat in bikram. breathe a whole heck of a lot more. dream.

and i read.

a lot.

tonight it is the toltec prophecies of don miguel ruiz.

my studies of quantum physics have taken me to some pretty funky places in recent years, and i have noticed a message repeating itself: we are dreaming. all of THIS is a dream that our reason tries to interpret into reality.

i dig it.

i also dig this quote from the toltec prophecies:

"During sleep, we do not perceive energy from outside ourselves, but the mind dreams images including an image of our own body. We can talk, see and even fly in a dream. We do not notice that we are asleep when we are dreaming. something makes the connection between the inner dream and the outer dream. That something is reason. Reason is the part of the mind that tried to qualify and understand everything. Reason wants to say, this is real and this is unreal. Reason gives us the illusion that the dream is real as long as the dream has the material framework we perceive as reality. We do not notice that we are interpreting reality according to the dream we are in at the moment" (pp. 12-13).

***

i've been musing on the last sentence and have gone back to a conversation i had with my classmate, david, at our shamanic healing intensive this past fall. he told me that he's hearing that 2012 is about more than just a shift in consciousness. he believes it's about becoming lucid in our dreams.

what does that really mean? i interpret it to mean that we are becoming lucid and now allow for the possibility that we can change our realities at will -- creating dreams within dreams within dreams. and, as reality shifts, we now allow that it is possible to "wake up" in them.

so, does this allow that our waking life becomes a dream and our dreams become waking life?

why not?
it's certainly a more positive reality for 2012 than what popular culture may dictate.

2011's Tarot Message -- two cards speak

2011-01-08T07:07:00.080-05:00

As has been my habit the past two years, each new year I pull a Tarot card to guide me through the year. For those who are curious, take a peek at what I pulled for the past two years.

2009:
http://awalkintheworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/little-whispers-from-universe.html

2010:
http://awalkintheworld.blogspot.com/2010/01/2010s-whispered-message-queen-of-cups.html

I had to giggle when I went to pull cards for 2011 because TWO cards showed up -- the EIGHT of SWORDS and the HIGH PRIESTESS.

It's an interesting pull, methinks, because these cards comes from both arcanas. (Minor arcana cards, some of which are numbered, reflect a typical, archetypal experience - a reflection of what's happening in the outer world. Major arcana cards are larger archetypal snapshots and show how inner changes precipitate external events and vice versa.) Using the cards as divinatory tools, it appears that I will use my intuition (trusting it 100%) this year to make serious, path-changing decisions about the current trajectory of my life. Let's go a little bit deeper.

The EIGHT of SWORDS card, according to the Mythic Tarot card system, shows Orestes in a fearful posture. His hands are up to fend off the three Furies to his right and a stern looking Apollo to his left. He is encircled by eight swords. Dark clouds appear to loom in the barren background.

This strikes me as being a card of bondage and some decision-related paralysis. A decision must be made NOW. One cannot put it off any further. On a divinatory level, the card heralds a situation where there is a call to action, regardless of perceived consequences. One must own responsibility of how one got to this position but acknowledge, too, that with some creative juice, a new way forward is possible.

The HIGH PRIESTESS is portrayed above by Persephone. In her right hand she holds a pomegranate, split open to show its multitude of seeds. In her left hand a bunch of white narcissi trail to the ground. One either side of staircase on which she stands is a pillar; the left one is black, the right one white. Behind her, at the top of the staircase, a doorway opens out onto a rich green landscape.

The writers of the Mythic deck tells us that "on an inner level, Persephone, the High Priestess, is an image of the link with that mysterious inner world to which depth psychology has given the name 'the unconscious.' It is as though, beneath and beyond the ordinary daylight world which we believe to be reality, lies another hidden world, full of riches and potential, which we cannot penetrate without the consent of its invisible rulers. This world contains our undeveloped potentials as well as the darker, more primitive facets of the personality. It also holds the secret of the destiny of the individual which gestates in darkness until the time is ripe for manifestation...Persephone...can only be dimly sensed by waking consciousness, and appears through the fleeting fragments of dreams, or through those strange coincidences which make us begin to wonder whether there might be some hidden pattern at work in our lives.

"On a divinatory level, the appearance of the High Priestess augurs the heightening of the powers of intuition, and implies that there will be an encounter of some kind with the hidden inner world which Persephone rules. The individual may be drawn inexplicably to this world through an interest in the occult or esoteric, or through the uncanny sense that "something" is at work in one's life."

I have a hunch what some of these decisions are about, and I refuse to stay stuck behind a bunch of swords! Here is to a year of action shepherded by self-trust and intuition!

birthing

2011-01-06T21:40:00.001-05:00

2011 is here. swiftly out of the janus gates. the year feels charged. energized. promising. i'm excited not only for the unfolding but also for the birthing of this book i'm writing. it is my intention to finish it by the end of the year, if not sooner. i'd like to set it before publishers before 2012 since it will address the shift in consciousness we're all being called to address.

what is finding you this year? what will you give birth to? what energizes you? what have you been putting on hold for too long?

why not dive into action now?

why not now?

awakening

2010-11-17T07:00:00.001-05:00

the void coats the shaman,

standing there,

straddling two worlds.

there is no unnecessary movement

but breath,

and it is even.

the dawn of light

wakes in ink

and visual pathways,

full of irradiation and effulgence,

gyrate with subtle incandescence.

there is only one action -

to plunge within,

as orion half rises into consciousness

above the darkened tree line of memory.

Zen

2010-11-15T21:57:00.001-05:00

Giant Buddha, Kamakura, Japan, cast 1252 C.E., November 2010

drinking sencha,

i observe slurps

and smacks

as men consume

sustenance with sticks.

the cadence intensifies -
click, clank, tink!
japanese singing soup bowls
surround me,
deftly played by musicians
who signal
finality with
one
loud
orchestrated
belch.

Out Trekking

2010-11-09T20:36:00.001-05:00

Apologies for the lack of blog posts the past few weeks.
I've been out walking in the world, losing myself in woods and other wild places,
but I'll return soon with fresh thoughts and words.

Until the next, may your own wanderings and journeys be restorative.

Satsang with Gangaji

2010-10-08T11:30:00.000-04:00

I just finished reading "You Are That!" Satsang with Gangaji and found myself nodding through the whole book. Yep, it all made pretty sound sense to me. All of it. Here are a few of the passages that struck me most:

"Discriminating wisdom recognizes the folly of chasing impermanent things in search of permanence. Whether it is in money, food, lovers, or great spiritual states, it is foolish to search for something permanent in something that is inherently impermanent...recognition of impermanence is like a thunderclap opening the mind. Not a belief, not a hope, not a theory -- but a realization that all of your grasping has been in vain. All of your rejecting has been in vain. All mind activity of attempting to hold, to keep, or to deny has been in vain. If you link up realization with particular experience, then in your mind, realization is a thing. No thing is permanent" (p. 51).

"Self-inquiry is vigilance. If in any moment you feel pulled towards identification with suffering, ask yourself the question, "who is suffering?" The belief, I am not THAT, and the resulting suffering must be faced. Direct experience is self-inquiry. Who is not That? Who is suffering? In self-inquiry, one uncovers self-denial through fabrication of thought. Belief in fabricated thought as reality leads to suffering. In the moment of directly experiencing the fabrication, the lie is exposed and annihilated" (pp. 160-61).

"Attention gets its attentiveness from pure awareness, which is who you are. Self-definition only keeps you fixated on waves while yearning to find the deep. The ocean has no problems with waves. Never for a moment does the ocean imagine the waves as separate from itself. Never for a moment does the ocean imagine its depths as separate from itself. Never for a moment does the ocean imagine there is any separation between wave and depth. Be the ocean. This is vigilance" (p. 166).

"All is true self. There is no separation anywhere. Suffering comes while imagining separation from self. Fear arises around whatever it is you imagine you are separate from" (p. 170).

the goddess walks on

2010-10-03T21:26:00.003-04:00

decay smells good,

i muse as another flash of orange

presents itself to my sneaker.

crunch.

crumble.

snap.

my steps play a role

in life's great turnover.

with one movement i create ash

and fragile bones crush beneath my feet.

i feel like kali --

the great devourer --

as i walk and plod through death.

all dissolves before me.

farmers remove gold from dried earth

and hang up their scythes for the season.

i watch as they scurry towards the hearth

and shut wooden doors firmly behind them.

i stand on resting soil,
stick out my tongue
and create a new universe.

in the silence that follows,
i join the dervishes

and spin faster and faster

in orbit around something holy.

Karma

2010-09-10T23:26:00.001-04:00

There had been a rising -- billions of years ago and again today. I think about this as I scramble up crags to 3500 feet. Man and the USG have marked the summit with a bit of bronze. I can't help but run my hand over the metal staple, musing about its history and the hands which have touched it before me. The man next to me tells me quietly that THIS is where storms are born. He's right. Up above, I observe clouds which hold water molecules that have known millions of expressions. They endlessly play their parts in a great karmic wheel. Evaporation. Condensation. Precipitation. Repeat. The geography always changes, but they never leave Earth. Poor doomed little molecules!

I glance again behind me - at this man who shields himself from a hurricane's leftovers. Is this not also a possible re-do? We're straddling the ridge line, living in two realities at once. Infinite futures and parallel universes stretch across my plane, all possible depending on where I direct my consciousness.

Out in the valley, shadows wheel their way towards us, shape shifting like entities out of the Tibetan Book of the Dead. We speculate when and where they will strike. Here? There? How soon? Will we scream out of fear or ecstasy? I close my eyes and want to grab a nearby hand, wondering if the scythe will mark us now or brush past us as a reminder that days are limited and the wheel stills spins.

I write

2010-09-01T19:03:00.001-04:00

I've committed to write a short story by 2 October. It's for a potluck dinner--Polidori style--at a friend's home. I'm kicking around some contenders -- the characters in each have a different story to tell. Some of are more compelling than others.

I debate. Which one?

I fear. Will it be good enough?

I take a deep breath.

Here goes!

Playing with stones

2010-08-14T16:42:00.002-04:00

i sit and play with stones,

building one layer at a time.

i choose carefully --

rubbing each piece of earth with my thumb.

what fits?

this or that?

i pause and search for another candidate.

holding my breath, i stack one more block

in a ring i want to wear.

are you listening?

is there room for me

in your sun drenched world?

i stand.

record.

what will the elements and time

do to this window within?

to that which i build?

Sturm und Drang

2010-08-09T21:08:00.004-04:00

i sat up when i discovered
"sturm und drang,"
which loosely translates into
"storm and stress."

i might know a thing or two about that.
so might you.

the germans apparently know a lot about it.

webster's dictionary tells me
that the phrase comes from
an 18th century dramatic movement,
focusing on high emotionalism and action
that rouses an individual's revolt against society.

the skater kid next to me nods and says:
"rage against the machine, lady."
he picks at his board for just a second and skates on.
maybe he feels i'm already there.

i'd get out of dodge too.
i thought i had.

***

what is this life really about?

today someone shared a secret wish
of being greeted by a family
upon returning from work.

it made for a pretty picture
and i yearned for its framing.

isn't that what we all want?
for love to find us at the threshold
where soft havens, scents and whispers await?
safe harbor from the storms
and the stress?

i look for the red shoes.
they should be on my feet.
maybe, if i click three times,
i, too, can find my way home --
out of the twister
and into the calm.

Hiatus

2010-07-18T13:25:00.001-04:00

I'm taking a break from cyberspace for a bit but will re-emerge at
summer's end with new thoughts, pictures, dreams, and musings.
Enjoy whatever season in which you find yourself!

Notes from the Universe

2010-07-07T10:55:00.002-04:00

This past week I've been dipping into Mike Dooley's "Notes from the Universe," which has been great fun.

Here are a few of my favorites:

Anyone watching you? Good. This is a double-secret exercise.

Pretend you just received a phone call with wonderful, mind-blowing, life-changing news! As you put down the receiver, your arms fly up over your head with joy. Pumping fists, then waving palms, like you just crossed a finish line before throngs of adoring fans. You cover your face with your hands, trying to contain the euphoria, but it doesn't work, so you reach for the sky again while shaking your head in disbelief. You're grinning, crying, and just so happy! Yes! Life is awesome, and you feel so grateful!!!!!!! Got it? Now if someone catches you doing this, just tell 'em it was your pet psychic who called, and they'll forget everything they just saw.

The Universe xxoo

PS -- Show me what you want to feel, create the feeling within yourself, and I'll then orchestrate the circumstances, however outlandish, that will help you feel it again, and again, and again.

***

It's not real! Don't go there!

The things and events of time and space are like Play-doh; fictional, make-believe.

What matter are what you feel in your heart and the dreams that flit through your head. This is the ultimate test, to discover what's real in a sea of illusions.

You can do it or you wouldn't be here. Don't look to the world for clues, not even to your family, friends, or career. Look within. You decide what's right. You decide what's possible. You write the script and lay down the laws. You are the door, the path, and the light.

***

Whosoever may torment you, harass you, confound you, or upset you is a teacher. Not because they're wise, but because you seek to become so.

walkabout

2010-07-04T07:00:00.001-04:00

i wander through loamy earth
and listen to thunder bombs.

footprints in top soul.
i look back -- just once--
to check for reality.

the dogs scatter ahead,
sniffing, as i move my
searchlight this way and that,
looking for what has departed on walkabout.

childhood sighs
of womanhood stretched ahead
now bring a sense of frantic kinetics
and loss.

i sweep left to right
look and look again,
consult the shaman,
and hunt for the blood
which should seep under my feet
like oil from sand.

Thoughts to Chew On -- Fred Alan Wolf and Gretel Ehrlich

2010-07-03T07:42:00.003-04:00

I devoured a few books this week and chewed on a few thoughts worth sharing. First up was Fred Alan Wolf's "Parallel Universes,"which neatly lays out the theory that parallel universes likely exist and we likely brush up against them more than we realize. Is Einstein right? Do black holes serve as bridges to other realms? Can alter egos spring into existence at the flip of a coin? Do lucid dreaming and schizophrenia mark the overlap of parallel worlds? Are synchronicities merely clues that my future self is giving to my present self to help get me through a day?

Stop and consider that. Really. It just blows my feathers off. He writes:

"These additional bubbled not only do not exist in just one universe, they exist in parallel universes--universes that can be reached from our universe via a process called quantum tunneling. In this process an electron is able to suddenly vanish in one universe and appear in another. Indeed, if this idea is correct, much of what we now call psychic phenomena, altered states of awareness, channeling of conscious beings, spirits, ghostly apparitions, flying saucers, and other unexplainable phenomena could be explained as information tunneling---coming from parallel universes" (pp. 176-77).

***

Gretel Ehrlich is another poet-writer I admire, especially her ruminations on space and home. She possesses the uncanny ability to transport one into her experience, her moment, with the dash of a few staccato words. In "A Match to the Heart," Ehrlich describes her experience of being struck by lightening and her movement through recovery. Many passages of the book make me want to spray paint the words on the sides of buildings. I resist but share them here:

"I thought of another Eskimo shaman story: "When the bear of the glacier comes out he will devour you and make you a skeleton and you will die. But you will awaken and your clothes will come rushing to you" (p. 149).

"In the Bardo Thodol, known as the Tibetan Book of the Dead, bar means "between"; and do "a landmark that stands between two things"; joined together, bardo means "gap." It refers to the wandering state between life and death, confusion and enlightenment, neurosis and sanity. The past has just occurred, and the future has not yet happened. In the bardo of the human realms we experience the body as illusory. Our relationship to our own existence and nonexistence is lukewarm. The whole world is a hiatus; the gap is not a widening in the road before the next bend, it is where the road falls off the cliff.

"The bardo has also been described as a vast and desolate plain littered with corpses and bleached bones and feral animals feeding on remnant flesh, a plain that is crowded and empty at the same time where animals copulate wildly, fall away from each other, and move on. Then it's a gray ocean again with no surface and no bottom, no reference points, no lighthouse, no breakwater guarding the harbor, no guiding light to lead me home. The bardo state occurs not only at the moment of death or the moment before death, but all during our lives; the bardo is the uncertainty and groundlessness we often feel" (pp. 39-40).

"I felt like a river moving inside a river: I was moving but something else was rushing over top of me. There was too much to take in: the deep familiarity with a place where I had lived for so long and the detachment a year away brings. The rivers were layers of grief sliding, the love of open spaces being nudged under fallen logs, pressed flat against cutbanks and point bars. I felt as if I'd never left, and at the same time as if I could never come home" (p. 140).

The Right Questions

2010-06-28T20:55:00.002-04:00

I just finished reading Debbie Ford's "The Right Questions." I saw the book in the library and dug the theory that asking better questions can bring about a more fulfilling, meaningful life. So, what are the right questions? All have to do with choice and what we willingly accept in our lives. Read on.

1. Will this choice propel me toward an inspiring future or will it keep me stuck in the past?

2. Will this choice bring me long-term fulfillment or will it bring me short-term gratification?

3. Am I standing in my power or am I trying to please another?

4. Am I looking for what's right or am I looking for what's wrong?

5. Will this choice add to my life force or will it rob me of my energy?

6. Will I use this situation as a catalyst to grow and evolve or will I use it to beat myself up?

7. Does this choice empower me or does it disempower me?

8. Is this an act of self-love or is it an act of self-sabotage?

9. Is this an act of faith or is it an act of fear?

10. Am I choosing from my divinity or am I choosing from my humanity?

There were several important points I took away from Ford's book. Here were the ones that rang out for me. I offer them as an example of the interesting nuggets her book offers:

My only job is to tend to my inner flame and keep it vital and roaring at all costs.

Are the choices I'm making throughout my day ones that will add fuel to my inner fire?

Am I following a vision map of all my deepest and most profound dreams OR am I following a default map which smacks of automatic programming?

What are my real first commitments? These are the beliefs or commitments I have made to myself unconsciously which may prevent conscious goals and dreams from taking flight. Another way to frame this is: what underlying commitments drive us to repeat the same self-sabotaging behaviors over and over again?

The book is a terrific exercise in learning more about yourself. Heartily recommend!

Passage

2010-06-22T20:00:00.006-04:00

there's a storm coming, child.
see how the leaves flip their skirts
to reveal silver legs in flight?

take comfort.
the gods always send messengers
to warn the people.

come into the hearth
where baked sugar beckons
and my cracked fingers
and old eyes can better find your tears.

'cuz your momma, baby,
your momma's not coming home no more.

iris has lowered her rainbow bridge
and souls take their passage.

press into my soft arms
so that your loss can journey
through old cotton
into the space of my heart.

inside, a tender lullaby
joins the wails of a child.

outside, the gods
incite electricity into fire
and the heavens pour down a cleansing
to match our own.

Listen, my Child -- For the International Council of Thirteen Indigenous Grandmothers

2010-06-19T21:15:00.006-04:00

i like for you to be still, my child,
and listen to what your grandmothers
whisper to you
when the night is blackest,
and even the tigers retreat
into the shadows to sleep.

your black feet
and yellow feet
and red feet
and white feet
are birthed by the same mother
who holds and cradles you.
mitakuye oyasin.

we are one.
there is only one.
does it tickle your ear
as i breathe it into the air?

all of you, my seed carriers.
listen.
this is my precious give-away.

come to the sacred waters--
to the running waters
and to the frozen waters--
come and listen
to the ancient one.

for the selkie has risen from the depths
to bask on sun-baked rocks
as she has done since the moon was young.

but man has captured her
and dragged her away far from home.
she cannot go back
and drifts without purpose
while her sealskin stretches like
oil over water,
always out of reach,
black tears of her exile.

listen.

one among you will rise
and swim to her,
so that she may heal.

listen.

is it you?

Quantum Physics and Dreaming

2010-06-15T21:23:00.002-04:00

My interest in dreams takes me to all kinds of unusual (or usual!) places. Most recently, I've been digging into books on quantum physics and thinking about its relationship with consciousness. I dig movies like "What the Bleep Do We Know?!" and writers like Fred Alan Wolf because their theories stretch my brain, get my synapses firing at a faster rate, and indulge my belief that what we think, we create.

I just devoured Wolf's "The Dreaming Universe," which, like Izthak Bentov's work (definitely check out his book "Stalking the Wild Pendulum"), really challenges what you consider "reality."

Here's a few of my favorite quotes from Wolf's book, ones I like to return to often, to consider, chew and dream about:

"Legends have attempted to describe this. For example, the Australian Aboriginal people believe that a Great Spirit dreamed all of reality, the whole universe of it, into existence. They say that the land they walk is a reflection of this Great Spirit's dream, and then they walk this land, they become aware of the songs of their legends, which resonate with the land itself. These songs resonate as song lines in the earth and give them directions. There are stories of runners moving across the land at great speeds in the dark, seeing the glow of the song as vividly as if they were running along a great lighted highway. They can find out where to go, where the sacred grounds are, as if this spirit were still speaking to them and lighting the way" (p. 345).

"When we dream, we return to that reality in order to gain information about how to survive in this reality. But survival may not be as it seems from a single perspective" (p. 346).

***

"We become afraid because people tell us what is real and what is not real. But we sense an inner conflict with what people tell us. We feel fear because we know that the viewpoint of, say, a political system is not consistent with our own view. The Communist Party is not the answer to the world. The capitalist system is not the answer for the world's problems. Going to war is not the answer to the world. We know these things from some deeper voice inside ourselves. What happens is that fearful images enter our minds, and we don't realize this. But if you have fearful images, they tend to come into reality: whatever you can imagine begins to appear as if we called it into existence.

"We are creating these images as realities because the universe is ambivalent and paradoxical. It doesn't care what you produce. It doesn't say to you that you can't do this and you can do that. It is like a mother who loves all of her children: the ugly ones, the beautiful ones, the starving ones, and the rich fatted ones--it doesn't care. It says whatever you create as imagery, so will it be. Why? Because at the core of the universe, at its most fundamental level, it is not solid stuff. It is not hard reality. It is capable of forming reality into whatever our images produce" (p. 348).

There is much more to say on this point and I plan to return to this thought often in the coming weeks. The point is to clean up your thoughts, your vibrations and your energy, so that you effectively remove any resistance between you and what you are wanting. (i.e. those who are interested in this line of thinking, do be sure to check out the Abraham-Hicks material on the Law of Attraction. Good stuff!)

Wolves

2010-06-13T18:07:00.004-04:00

I'm lately fascinated by wolves. I love it when they find me in dreams, meditations, on billboards, in waking life. It makes sense then to learn more about them. Barry Lopez's "Of Wolves and Men" and Smith and Ferguson's "Decade of the Wolf" have given me tremendous insight into wolf biology and behavior. Other books and writers provide the mythos -- "Wolf Totem," certain fairy tales ("Firebird," "Little Red Riding Hood," "Three Little Pigs," "The Dog and the Wolf"), Jack London.

People fear the wild wolf and call it "dangerous." I admire it as a great hunter and respect its pack mentality. Wolves typically nurture the young and tend the old. Here are a few of my favorite passages from Lopez's work:

"In the native American cosmology, insofar as it can be regarded as the same from tribe to tribe, the universe was perceived in six directions: the space above; that below; and the four cardinal divisions of the world horizon. Frequently on the plans the bear represented the west, the mountain lion the north, the wolf the east, and the wildcat the south. They were regarded as the creatures with the greatest power and influence in the spirit world.

"The Pawnee of present-day Nebraska and Kansas differed from most other tribes in that they divided their world horizon into four semi cardinal points, assigning the wolf to the southeast. In the Pawnee cosmogony the wolf was also set in the sky as a star, along with the bear and the two cats, to guard the primal female presence, the Evening Star. The Wolf Star was read -- the color associated with the wolf by virtually every tribe (red did not signify blood; it was simply an esteemed color.)
(p. 102)

***

"The Pawnee conceptualization of the wolf was that he was an animal who moved like liquid across the plains: silent, without effort, but with purpose. He was alert to the smallest changes in his world. He could see very far--"two looks away," they said. His hearing was so sharp he could even hear a cloud as it passed overhead. When a man went into the enemy's territory he wished to move exactly like this, to sense things like the wolf, to be Wolf.

"The sense of being Wolf that came over a Pawnee scout was not the automatic result of putting on a wolf skin. The wolf skin was an accoutrement, an outward sign to the man himself and others who might see him that he was calling on his wolf power. It is hard for the Western mind to grasp this and to take seriously the notion that an Indian at times could be Wolf, could actually participate in the animal's spirit, but this is what happened. It wasn't being like a wolf; it was having the mind set: Wolf." (pp. 112)

Firestorm

2010-06-11T16:19:00.003-04:00

I was skyping with a good friend this morning and the subject rolled around to firestorms. We both knew, having lived in the West, that there are certain fires which are necessary for the health of forests. They burn away the dead material. They create space for sunlight. They open the world to new species. In fact, some fires burn so brightly and fiercely that they manage to burst open certain pine cones, which allows the cones to spread their seeds and extend their horizons. As outsiders, we fixate on the aftermath...the destruction. But for the forests, it is part of the natural cycle of life.

Cannot the same be said for human relationships? Sometimes we encounter individuals who burn us so deeply that we feel destroyed. But, this is because we're in the moment and still feel the fire's immediate effects. Parts of us are singed. Other parts crack open and we begin to notice growth that seemed impossible. With time we encounter wonderment, strength and gratitude. The trick is not to get stuck in the aftermath of the fire. Notice the forests. After a raging fire, though seemingly impossible, growth happens. Green spurts burst through soil. Saplings creep up and reach for sunlight. Animals come to pick off insects drawn to the dead wood. New ecosystems form. It's fascinating and humbling.

I don't think any of us escape human firestorms. Some of us encounter them again and again. If you, sweet soul reading this, finds that this rings true for your experience. Have faith. Growth is on its way and new life will find you. If the lesson of forests is true, then how could it not?

Travels and Quotes

2010-06-08T21:05:00.003-04:00

I've been out and about in this big world of ours lately,
taking a bit of a walkabout, traveling, seeing new terrain and folk on the street.
I've been traveling through inner worlds too.
It's good to get one's passport stamped in all kinds of worlds.

Here's some doodle writing:

they sat in silence, each absorbed in a section of the paper. she was murmuring real estate descriptions to her husband, neatly punctuated by pauses while she sipped coffee and rustled the pages to get his attention. "three bedrooms"..."close to national zoo." a raspy sigh. "i just don't understand," she grumbled as it all faded in the din.

***

i listen to the man give advice to the woman seated next to him. the most extraordinary part of their exchange is that he is also answering my questions. i smile, thinking that even in this city people are willing to reveal themselves to each other, to become so vulnerable. souls crack open like saucers and the caffeinated walk back into the world a little taller, somehow a little more certain of the journey. i giggle as i leave because i feel exactly the same way.

Shamans I

2010-05-28T10:04:00.002-04:00

shamans I, may 2010

A week or so ago I sat down with my watercolors and these figures came out. I like to think of them as primal expressions of a shamanic reality -- a reality we all share. I'll let you know how this piece develops.

Friday Night Expressions

2010-05-15T00:10:00.008-04:00

Baloney

courtesy of guest artist "The General"

friday night rolled around.
ended up holding an impromptu painting party.
a good buddy of mine popped over and played with color.
the results are mixed (just kidding, general!)
the first two are the general's.
still had a blast though.

Tranquil

courtesy of guest artist "The General"

the general's artist statement:
"The above was the General's first attempt at painting since he was a child.
Be prepared for more, as his skills can only improve.
He's got more ideas in his head for next week.
Keep posted soldiers, sailors, airmen, and marines!"

(a walk in the world says, "capital! capital!")

blue buffalo woman

"where is the buffalo? gone.
and what is it to say goodbye to the swift and the hunt,
the end of living and the beginning of survival."

~ Chief Seattle, 1855

blue dipper wishes

"the winding night, the universe
and I, infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great starry void,
likeness, image of mystery,
i felt myself a pure part of the abyss,
i wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke free on the open sky."

~ pablo neruda

Gauging the "Fear Gauge"

2010-05-11T19:47:00.005-04:00

A few months ago, I popped open the Wall Street Journal and came across an article entitled "Is 'Fear Gauge' Inaptly Named?" (18 March 2010). I'm not an economist and I don't follow stocks and bonds BUT I was struck that a gauge by this name actually existed in the world. (For those of you out there that follow the markets, the article argued that while "the stock market's fear gauge hit its lowest point in nearly two years, but that doesn't necessarily mean investors have ditched their concerns about unemployment, government debt, home foreclosures and everything else that could move the market.")

From what I could gather, the "Fear Gauge" (AKA as the Chicago Board Option Exchange Volatility Index) shows the market's expectation of a 30-day volatility. The volatility is meant to be forward learning and is calculated from both calls and puts; it is a widely used measure of market risk.

I'm not really sure what that all means but I was happy to learn about this term and wondered if it couldn't be applied to the way we live our own lives. I think that sometimes when we gaze past the present and future cast, we invite fear to tag along because we start "what-ifing" out the wazoo and worry ourselves silly about the unknown. And, if we're frightened or if we're vibrating at a low frequency when we set out to do this, we only cast a shadow on everything that has yet to come.

I don't know about you but that doesn't sound like a good use of energy. How to get around this? First, you must get yourself into a good feeling place where you can actually smile at fear and blow it out of your space. I know! Easier said than done. But what is fear anyway? I think there are a few types (and certainly this should not be read as a final treatise on fear!):

1. You sense immediate danger. Your flight or fight response has kicked in; you are not sure you're going to survive what finds you next.

2. Ego trappings and illusions. You feel fear because you are choosing to believe something or someone other than your own internal guidance system.

3. You are disempowered. You sense that your life is out of control and you no longer believe you have control over your life.

4. Fill in the blank! Lots of reasons one feels fear. What's your reason? Is it that you're not understanding something? Is it that you're afraid you're about to lose something or someone precious to you?

My point is that by allowing fear to roam freely in your life, you can actually work against owning the life which was meant just for you. Bad fear! BAD! In other words, fear is the bully on the playground whose mere presence has you running for the bathroom!

But at some point, fear needs to be confronted and transformed. Let's take an example of what this might look like.

Let's say that you've realized your job is not for you -- it's Azkaban on crack. There are Dementors everywhere and many of your colleagues either have a poopy diaper or look *really* glazed over. You're feeling miserable and recognize the need for change but what to do and how to break on through to greener pastures?

All shades of trickiness, right? And this is just the right environment to welcome in fear because you begin to lose confidence in yourself and in your own abilities. You think, "Hm. The economy is pretty bad right now. I hear people/companies aren't hiring. My parents would kill me if I changed gigs. How would I pay my bills? What would people think? Have I failed? What's wrong with me?" Ad infinitum. Ad nauseum.

And, yet, through all of this, there is a little voice inside you saying: "Wait! Stop! I have guidance for you! This is really good info. You want to hear this! Do I need a microphone? Can you hear me? Hello? Is anybody there?" But the fear and the anxiety and the self-doubt have worked up such a cacophony of dismal doomsdayness that you drown out the voice that always knows what to do and where to direct you.

Don't get me wrong. This stuff ain't easy. It's tough and takes a lot of patience and courage BUT it can be done. You just have to slow down, take a deep breath and go within. You can do this through prayer, meditation, dance, undertaking some sort of rote activity...anything that shuts off the left side of your brain. You can ask for guidance in your dreams. You can write down a question with your dominant hand and write the response with your less dominant hand and see what you get. There are a ton of possibilities. You can adopt a mantra and repeat it over and over again. Whatever you do, just be patient with the process and trust yourself to know what's right for you and how to get on with it. Be gentle with yourself but shake the fears away. Amazing magic will happen! Promise.

Work in progress

2010-05-11T00:09:00.003-04:00

So, this doesn't look like much yet. In fact, it's very much just hanging out at the doodle stage BUT the idea for this came to me at a wedding this past weekend. As I walked to my car I glanced up into the night sky and noticed an upside down Big Dipper. I thought, "Huh! How tremendous! The Dipper is pouring a ladle full of wishes into the sky and onto me." It felt very magical and blessed.

I want to honor the thought in some way. I think I'll begin with a watercolor later this week and see where it takes me. I'll keep you posted!

Antelopes

2010-05-04T22:05:00.003-04:00

antelope study, watercolor, 4 may 2010

"Set the gearshift for the high gear of your soul,
you've got to run like an antelope out of control."
~ Trey Anastasio

Color Study #1

2010-05-03T20:09:00.003-04:00

Sometimes it's just fun to open up some water colors and see what happens.

Walking the Labyrinth

2010-05-01T13:39:00.007-04:00

Labyrinth, somewhere in the world, 1 May 2010

I walked a labyrinth this morning. The sun was warm; the river was active. I was feeling ready to walk within. Through twists and turns, I came upon my own interior and moved into the heart of the labyrinth. There, I heard my own voice say "You already know what to do. Make the connection."

I've been thinking about Campbell's Hero's Journey recently, which strikes me as being active and external. Its expression seems very much out in the world.

But is this the same journey women take? I'm not so convinced. Recently, someone said to me, "You're not on the Hero's Journey. You're on the Heroine's Journey and that unfolds differently." I thought, "Hmm, yes, that's likely true." As a woman, I feel the need to move within and journey there. Bring light into the shadows. Finger paint. Dig in the dirt. Express creatively. Employ deep listening. In this way I mother myself so that I may build and sustain enough energy to give birth to newness and to the seed I see within but which knows no expression yet. It's hard to explain this to loved ones. It's hard to explain the need for a room of one's own but there it is.

Maureen Murdock--author of the Heroine's Journey--explains the process nicely. She writes:

"The only way a woman can heal the imbalance within herself is to bring the light of consciousness into the darkness. She must be willing to face and name her shadow tyrant and let it go. This requires a conscious sacrifice of mindless attachments to ego power, financial gain, and hypnotic, passive living. It take courage, compassion, humility, and time.

"The challenge for the heroine is not one of conquest but one of acceptance, of accepting her nameless, unloved parts that have become tyrannical because she has left them unchecked. We can't go through life blindly. We have to examine all of the conflicting parts of ourselves. Each one of us has dragons lurking in the shadows. The challenge, according to Edward Whitmont, requires 'the strength to sustain awareness and the suffering of conflict and to be able to surrender oneself to it.' It is the job of the heroine to enlighten the world by loving it -- starting with herself" (pp. 158-59).

So, what is there to do but dig in the dirt of myself...dig deep to the slumbering goddess at the core of the earth...at the core of myself...and breathe with her?

Buffalo Woman

2010-04-28T18:53:00.002-04:00

Self-Study on a Tuesday Night

2010-04-27T20:33:00.001-04:00

Throwing Off the Kings

2010-04-23T15:41:00.008-04:00

another morning
as a daughter of athena.

three inch jack hammer heels?
check.
red lipstick?
check?
accouterments and accessories?
check. check.

sigh.
another day with the boys.

we civilization build
and play war.
we smoke stogies
in crowded boardrooms
and watch mortals crumble like ash.
we guffaw. it is good to be king.

until.
shit.

i notice a run in my pantyhose.
milk from a lactating breast.
cramped feet.
hairspray malfunction.

i don't want to play anymore.

i take off my shoes
and use them to propel me
into the soil of my ancestors.

i move through hell
towards gaia and
the half buried pieces of myself.

i find inanna,
my sister in the dark,
and press these pieces into her hands,
asking her to breathe
prana into the fragments
and build wholeness.

Playing with the Universe -- Step One in Freeing your Mind

2010-04-09T11:07:00.009-04:00

As a martial artist, I have learned how to harness my body's energy to perform feats my mind thought were impossible. Stretch my leg how? For how long? Balance on one finger? Spin that fast? Move my sword where? I credit much of my ability to overcoming my mind to a very good teacher who trained us in a traditional style. For example, in my first Kumdo class, I spent one hour doing nothing but learning how to move with my practice sword. Until I could master that, I was not allowed to move on.

My teacher was a gifted man who understood that by learning to control and overcome the mind, the impossible became possible. Every class began and ended in meditation -- that was his method and it worked for me. His rationale was that if I could see myself doing an impossible feat in my mind, I could do so in real life. He was right. By working with him and with other teachers, I learned that my energy could do all sorts of things, even manifest 100 dollars in the mail by the afternoon, if I focused on it. The trick, in order to achieve this and other things, was to remove my mind's block against such an act and to believe it was already in the process of happening.

I like movies like "The Matrix" and "Star Wars" for this very reason. They show us how to stretch our minds to dare to do the impossible. Click here and here and here for a few movie bytes on the topic!

Okay, so how to do this -- I'm certainly not special when it comes to these abilities...we ALL have them! (I'll share here my personal method and you're welcome to it if it makes sense for you; however, don't be surprised if you end up adapting these techniques to what works best for you. Let your intuition guide you as you begin and stretch.) It has been my experience that the best way to begin freeing your mind is to adopt a playful attitude. Become like the White Queen in Alice in Wonderland who always did 6 impossible things before breakfast. The mind likes routine but I like to shake things up by suggesting other neural routes for activity. Here's a few ways to get started:

1. Name your Mind.

Makes you kind of want to giggle, right? Go ahead...join me...it's pretty silly! But the way I see it, if I'm going to work with an energy that likes to control and censor and naysay, it should at least have a name. It knows my name. I just want an even playing field. Martha Beck writes in Steering by Starlight that she got the idea to give her inner naysayer a name one day and spends time in the book describing the experience. I took her idea and ran with it, learning that my inner naysayer's name is Zed. Click here to read a poem I wrote about him. My point? Make it silly. Make it fun. You'll know you're on the right track when you smile or, even better, GIGGLE.

2. Change how you start.

A lot of us get jolted out of bed on a daily basis by an alarm and begin rushing around to get to wherever we need to be. Ugh. How does that feel? Better still, how's that working for you? Rush, rush, rush. Even writing the words make me cringe. Try this instead: when you wake up, instead of leaping out of bed first thing, why not allow yourself to linger in that yummy somehow always perfect bed temperature for a few minutes. Ask yourself if you remember any bits of your dreams. If so, write them down immediately before getting out of bed. (I'll return to the topic of dreams in Part II). There could be clues there. Consider it a cosmic game of fetch, except this time, you're the retriever. Now, allow yourself to visualize how you want your day to go from start to finish. My feeling is this: why should you let other forces or personalities carve out your day for you? Be you own day's creator and have fun with it! Lay out your day and pepper it with spontaneous fun. For example, sometimes I'll build in an out-of-the-blue giggle fest or will build in seeing a pink car on the way to work or other random things. Why not?! Dr. Joe Dispenza--featured in "What the Bleep Do We Know?"--is a great example of how to go about creating your day. Here is his method:

3. Change how you see.

How do you know that what you see at any given moment is really what you're seeing? Kind of blows your feathers off to consider it, huh? Here's another whopper: what if this universe of ours had a sense of humor and wanted a playmate? Would you play? If you're up for a little adventure and want to start shaking your inner naysayer who booms that things aren't possible and magic really doesn't exist, try this strategy.

Adopt an open attitude and decide you're going to play. Give your inner naysayer the day off. Open yourself up to wild possibilities. You could take a walk. You could walk down your street. Walk around in a mall. Hop into a bookstore. Take a drive. Hop on a bus. Doesn't matter what you do...just adopt the right attitude.

Then, ask the universe a question and see what you get. What shows up on the next billboard? What does the next personalized license plate say? How about that guy's Tshirt? Does the symbol or quote or logo mean anything? Go into a bookstore. Head towards whatever section is calling you. Choose a book. Randomly open a page. Does its contents give you your answer?

Here's how I play. When I hop in the car for a long trip, I don't tune myself out. Instead, I ask the universe a question like "What country will I next visit?" And then I wait to see what the next personalized license plate says. Alternatively, I may pose a question and see what happens when I turn on the radio. About 99% of the time, the song's title, band name or lyrics give me subtle (or not so subtle) guidance for how to solve my problem/answer my question.

Or, if you like to just chill out at home, find a deck of cards and practice visualizing the color of the next card before you turn it over. As you advance in skill, you can move from colors to suits to numbers and then to combining all of them!

Practice these techniques for a bit and be open to the adventure! Don't be discouraged if things don't happen straight away or even consistently for a while. Just keep showing up. Eventually, your energy will line up to the right frequency and things will begin to happen. And the point here is really just to present the mind with events that it is not expecting so that it may learn to expect them. I'll say more about that in Part II.

Until the next -- have fun!

Taking a Breath and Diving into Dreams

2010-04-05T22:08:00.003-04:00

I've been sitting in silence the last few weeks. Absorbing. Listening. Learning. It's a humbling process and human mechanical time feels so insufficient to absorb it all. Maybe that's why we return again and again.

And yet, it is good to be still. It is good to become available to yourself and to your soul. It is good to be quiet. It is very good to listen -- to others, to yourself, to the wisdom of your dreams. It is good to unplug and to hear the songs of the planets and those of the spring peepers.

There is a theory that argues that we self-sabotage and actively work to ignore our intuition because we fear its wisdom and what it would tell us. We are afraid to know our inner voice and to let it speak its truths. For some, it is much easier to self-silence and to adopt the voices of others. And I've wondered lately who is speaking when I speak? Is it my soul? Society? Religion? Family? Why are we content to parrot?

"And a man said, 'Speak to us of Self-Knowledge'
and he answered, saying:
Your hearts know in silence the secrets of the days and the nights.
But your ears thirst for the sound of your heart's knowledge.
You would know in words that which you have always known in thought.
You would touch with your fingers the naked body of your dreams."
~ Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

Silence--the absence of talk--allows you to tune into your own voice. In the absence of noise, one finds truth. It is so good to sit and be still with this and to meet oneself again and again.

To say: "I see you. I hear you. I honor you."

It is a lovely place to begin.