Pivot to Re-Ordering Life

Elk Herd in the Neighborhood

The nonviolent person does not seek an impossible compromise with the times, nor a prior, intemperate synthesis for the times. The nonviolent person sees life in terms of a choice toward change, involving a re-ordering of life. Daniel Berrigan

This quote popped into my box (thank you once again Pace e Bene Nonviolence Service for your Daily Inspiration!). It seems apropos for this time of war – yet another war that makes no sense. War has never been the answer. It never will.

I’ve been thinking about borders. How is that we humans are so preoccupied with borders? What in our story of separation has us believe that they are real? On some level we know they are not, but borders and ‘we/they’ have been ingrained in us as important to our identity. What if we reframe our identity to Earthlings? Gaians? Heck, even Humans!

Early this morning Zadie Byrd and I make the 60-mile journey to the vet (her eye irritation hasn’t eased since surgery two weeks ago). We crossed the Rio Grande River at a point that was once the western boundary of the Republic of Texas, reminding me that borders are mutable. Countries come. Countries go. I wonder what quality of life we could create if we gave up the idea of maintaining and expanding borders. Of pivoting from the constraints of borders and defending them to creating community with one another and with Nature.

For surely Nature and the planet do not give one whit about the artificial lines we humans draw on maps and then defend at the cost of unfathomable life, limb, and treasure. Astronauts who have spent time in space speak of a deepened understanding and appreciation that we all share this planet as they look down at ‘home’. How might we take up that perspective?

How might we re-order life around sharing our planet home and its bounty rather than the continuing the historical practice of mine/yours? Win/loose? Bad/good? Haven’t we suffered the trauma of this approach sufficiently to genuinely want to end violence?

How might we re-order life to care for our planet home, shifting the use of our treasure to help her restore from our abuse? What if the trillions of dollars spent on so-called ‘defense’ were re-allocated to support life in all its forms?

While my heart aches for the trauma of all who are in the path of the war in Ukraine, I’m putting my attention not on who will be the victor. For in war, any victory is temporary. Rather I’m asking deeply, how do we re-order life, individually and collectively, to end these cycles of violence? What thinking do I need to shift? What beliefs do I need to challenge? What choices toward change can I make?

If your thinking and sensing is moving in this direction, here are a couple essays that I’ve found helpfully thought-provoking this week:

·        Charles Eisenstein’s The Field of Peace (click here)

·        George Lakey’s article The Dangerous Assumption that Violence Keeps Us Safe (click here)

And, I leave you with these words of wisdom from Thay:  The individual has to wake up to the fact that violence cannot end violence; that only understanding and compassion can neutralize violence, because with the practice of loving speech and compassionate listening we can begin to understand people and help people to remove the wrong perceptions in them, because these wrong perceptions are at the foundation of their anger, their fear, their violence, their hate. —Thich Nhat Hanh

Rocks are different on the west side of the valley …

Invite All of Life In

Sunlight on the New Blanket of Snow

We are in a time of tremendous volatility, not just externally, but for many people internally as well. On a daily basis, it seems, the world is flipping from one timeline to another to another. The future looks dark; I blink my eyes and all is bright. A blue sky fills with clouds in a minute, then they are gone again. Multiple realities coexist on a single planet. Multiple realities coexist in a single person.

… if you have been fluctuating between elation and despair, you are not alone. If despondency colors the breaking dawn, you are not alone. If a single ray of light (like a warm hello) dispels the despondency, you are not alone. If that hope is so fragile that a mere ill glance shatters it, you are not alone. Charles Eisenstein (read the essay here)

I experienced ‘one of those days’ a few days ago. Feeling disconnected, irritable, unhappy despite a soft white blanket that had fallen on Mother Earth the day before. The foggy funk lifted for a brief moment as I watched Zadie Byrd roll joyfully in the snow. As quickly as she hopped up the dark cloud over me returned. Unlike Zadie’s ability to shake the flakes from her furry coat, my efforts to ‘shake’ the cloud weren’t so effective.

And so I allowed ‘it’ to be and allowed myself to be under ‘it’ with whatever curiosity I could muster to discover any message hidden within. I had little energy to focus or ‘do’ anything, despite several projects and tasks idly awaiting my attention. I’d love to say, ‘so I just sat quietly and listened’, but in my humanness, I tried to force some focus, get something done. Oh, how our culture values toughing it out to check some task off of our to-do list.

Failing culture’s strategy for the blahs, I turned to Nature, the labyrinth and a long, slow saunter in the woods out.

This is where my solace lives. The place where my sadness can be, and my tears can flow with abandon.  The place that is receptive, understanding, and listens as no human can. The place that knows, accepts, and allows. The place that dissipates the dark clouds when it is time for them to go.

I think about the clouds that bring moisture to the Earth’s surface just as clouds of sadness allow my cleansing tears to fall.

Cleansed by Nature’s beauty and softness, her receptivity and acceptance, and by the tears that fell as I embraced a beloved grandmother tree, the dark cloud lifted. I am those clouds, the snow and rain, and I am all the tears as well as all the trees.

I remind myself that we are in a time of great change and uncertainty, of vast opportunity, and of an invitation to invite in all of life. The bitter. The sweet. We are invited to remember what our hearts know, and our minds have forgotten: We are all one, each a part of the other. The entire ocean is in the drop. The bitter in the sweet. There is no separation in the reality that is life.

As the Muse and I settled in for this week’s journey, I thought about the plethora of inspiring quotes that have been shared this week in the wake of Thich Nhat Hanh’s passing. Many have landed deep, resonating as wisdom for this time. Responding to a gentle nudge to find a pithy one to share, I discovered a recording of Thay reading his poignant poem, Please Call Me By My True Names. The poem’s final verses resonate as a prayer for all humanity to understand that we are one.

Please call me by my true names,

so I can hear all my cries and my laughter at once,

so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

Please call me by my true names,

so I can wake up,

and so the door of my heart

can be left open,

the door of compassion.

(listen and read it here)

In our sleepy forgetfulness, we cling to the illusion that we can allow some of Life in and keep some of Life out. Alas, we wake and remember that all of Life invites us to open the door of our hearts and invite in ALL of Life. Indeed, may we grant All of Life our gentle embrace.

Beauty Before the Snowfall

What Forms Us?

The Elk - Camerashy, unlike their deer cousins.

We speak a lot about information. What is information, really? It is that which comes in and forms us. Charles Eisenstein

These words stopped me, landing deep within as I read Charles Eisenstein’s recent essay, Wanna Join Me in a News Fast? several days ago. They’ve been with me, beckoning some call from within, the Muse taking note and applauding each time I hit the delete key rather than opening one of the news sources that I frequently scan.

I can’t say for how long I’ll join in fasting from news, but doing so feels like an act of empowerment, of more consciously choosing where to put my attention and focus. What constitutes ‘news’ anyway?

Much so-called ‘information’ seems designed to keep me ‘IN formation’ with what the culture bids, steeped in worry and fear about a cornucopia of concerns. Eisenstein’s suggestion that information is that which comes in and forms us evoked the reminder that ‘that which comes in’ is that which I allow in. I choose. And with that reminder, an awareness to look anew at what I allow to come in, what I invite to form me.

How will my choices shift when I take on the perspective that every click to open an email or follow a link (or open a magazine, a book, a piece of mail or watch a movie or documentary, listen to music, etc.) is an invitation to participate in forming me? The Muse challenges me to examine my choices about what and who is on my ‘invitation list’. ‘Just how selective are you,’ Muse prods, ‘in what you invite in?’ Of course, I like to think that I’m very conscious and selective about such things.

But am I really? How many of my ‘invites’ truly contribute to the wellbeing of my body, my mind, my spirit? To shifting so that I live in greater harmony with my values and with Mother Earth? To my happiness and joy?

Perhaps it’s a good time to go beyond ‘delete this email’ to click the ‘unsubscribe’ button on some sources.

Do my choices invite sources that inspire and provide intelligence for creating a new story for humankind and the planet or evoke deep introspection from which new insights can emerge? Are they aligned with my purpose – planting and nurturing seeds of change?

Or do I all too often simply feed an addiction to be ‘informed’ so that I seem intelligent to myself and others? Or as entertainment?

How much and what kind of information do I really need? Who will I invite to ‘inform’ me on this journey called ‘Life’?

As I write these last words Raven lands in a pine just outside my window, its ‘caw’ a reminder that Nature has much to offer IN forming me when I invite and listen. Likewise Raven offers confirmation that there is magic to be discovered in looking anew at what I choose to form me. I’m reminded of a small elk herd that wandered through the woods a few days ago and of the buck who brought his extended family to the labyrinth after last week’s post. How does the natural environment form and inform me?

Family Member on Her Way to the Labyrinth

Two Bucks and a Raven

A Buck and the Bell

What does Nature say?

A few days back in the early morning the temperature at dawn was only a couple degrees colder than the normal high temperature for that day. As I opened my journal and picked up the pen this was the stream of words that came. “Mild morning – 30 degrees, house chilly, no fire last night – VERY unusual. Fire going now – warming and lovely.”

“I feel Nature’s confusion … ‘tis the season of winter,

And no snow on the ground

Chilly not COLD

Other than an occasional blast (for a day or so)

Then warming with low temps as high as the normal high and

High temps reaching towards records.

My heart feels the inward pull

Of the season – ‘Snuggle in, Rest, Read, Contemplate.

The warmth and sun pull me out.

Like a see-saw, tug-of-war on the playground of Life. DoBeDoBeDoBeDo…

I don’t know how to be in these woods in this season without snow,

The Earth without her white blanket. Is She patiently confused?

What might She know that I do not yet ‘hear’, my untrained senses trying to make sense of the season that doesn’t match my mountain experience?

But is more like the experience from another place, another time this life,

Sea level in Houston or the Llano Estacado in Lubbock – warmer winters.

I break my writing flow to tend the fire. The beauty and warmth of the slow burning logs and multicolored flames draw me in and

I feel a wave of warmth, of depth, of gratitude for all that makes possible my comfort.

Logs added with a full heart, I notice the sky – brilliant orange, red, pink on the horizon and I step outside to the distant sound of Raven – ‘the Magic is Love’ –

Yes, Raven, I remember . These words of your ‘Caw’

Will not be forgot. And I will listen as you speak for other wisdom you may impart.

Flowing in the morning stream is a joy that settles and soothes

Offering a way of Being in the Doing of this day.

I move with gratitude,

Still curious about the confusion that sits in me …

What does Nature say?”

When one asks a question it’s polite to listen to/for the answer. Raven brought this home to me on our morning walk shortly after this journal entry and its ending question: What does Nature say? Raven was raucous, louder than usual and flying about in the treetops and near the ground seeming to want to be heard, not seen.

I noticed. And I didn’t take my observing deeper or connect it to the question I’d posed less than an hour before. Rather rude to ask and not listen. Later, when I finally made the connection, Raven seemed to be sounding a ‘caw’ to heed Nature, to listen with all my senses. Duh! Ask and it is given. But you must be aware and willing to receive. Sometimes it takes a brassy Raven’s ‘caw’ to open me up.

The following afternoon after a lovely walk with Zadie Byrd (who has her own ways of getting my attention and teaching), I headed into the woods out back to walk the labyrinth and commune with the pines. As I approached the labyrinth, a handsome four-point buck was in the outermost circuit grazing seeds fallen from the bird feeder above. I stopped. He looked up and after a few moments looking may way, turned his eyes and his muzzle to the ground, apparently finding the seed more interesting and nourishing than me.

After a few more moments I slowly eased closer, step by step, present to his gentleness and grace. Aware that he was aware of my presence, yet not threatened.  After a bit he began walking slowly toward me through the inner circuits of the labyrinth. My gaze focused on him, his on me; each of us seeming to say, ‘thank you for sharing … we are safe here.’ I let him know that I am listening, and I sense he was conveying a reminder of the importance of increasing my capacity to adapt. Deer thrive in part because of their capacity to adapt to changing conditions. And gentleness is a part of their way.

As if to confirm (or perhaps to see if I was continuing to listen) and to remind me that adapting and change require rest, he returned yesterday with a friend. Just before heading out for a walk, my eyes were drawn to the woods where two bucks were resting, heads up and observant, about 15 yards apart.

This winter the variety of birds in the woods and at my feeder is abundant, each carrying their messages in response to my query.

I’m listening. What does Nature say?

Resting with Awareness in the Woods Out Back

ALL We Need IS Love

Snow! On the Labyrinth Bell

All you need is love
All you need is love
All you need is love, love
Love is all you need … John Lennon - The Beatles (click here for a 3 minute ride down memory lane)

As I move beyond the hustle and bustle of what we call the ‘holiday season’, I’m present to the pleasure and satisfaction that came with choosing to engage in holiday activities with others more than I usually do. I’m grateful for the opportunities to gather and share with friends. And as this fifth day of the new calendar year dawns, I’m also present to a deep pull to go within, to withdraw, bear-like, into a state of torpor. To rest. To hear with clarity the whispers of my heart, a heart that is calling for trimming the sails and making course corrections to more fully align the activities and choices in life with that which I say I value.

The Muse muffles a chuckle, knowing this will necessitate investing more time in sitting quietly, resting, napping. It will require that I let go of trying to control the flow of life and that I build muscle to allow changes and projects to flow in their time, divine time, not my time. The Muse’s chuckle gives way to a gentle embrace, a reminder that Muse nudges and wisdom are available 24/7. Like Zadie Byrd, the Muse is oh so patient with my humanness.

Although I feel this pull to draw inward every winter, this year seems different. While much of our contemporary Western culture declares the ‘holiday season’ over when the new year is celebrated, other cultures – those more in tune with Nature and her cycles – dedicate this time to inner journeys, to rest, to envisioning what wants to come forward. They rest and gather within that which will be needed to burst forth in spring. They listen to the heart whispers and invite the heart to have its full voice.

 And that is what I’m easing into in the early minutes of this new year: investing more time in contemplation and consideration, being with the stars and all of Nature to discover what wants to unfold, to jettison that which no longer serves, and to gather what I need for the journey ahead.

While discovery, jettisoning, and gathering will require me to breakthrough more layers of my own habitual muscle memory and to develop stronger immunity to the pull of a culture that wants me to conform, the deep potency and possibility that I feel for humanity and our planet home, Mother Earth, in this year provide sustainable, renewable fuel for the journey.

Although this time finds our world chaotic, we need not be in chaos with it. My choices, indeed, our choices, minute by minute in the remaining 519,120 minutes (more or less) of 2022, hold the potential to contribute positively to the new that is unfolding as the old falls away.

In the quiet time and in the active time each day, I’m deepening trust in the voice of my heart to shine light on the path and to support me step by step in the uncharted waters ahead aiming to expand my capacity to BE the love I want to see in the world. For indeed, love is all we need.

New Years Snow on the Mountains

Easing into 2022 with Rest

A White Christmas Labyrinth!

How beautiful it is to do nothing, and then rest afterwards. Proverb

The only real rest comes when you’re alone with God. Rumi

As I began to update what has become my ‘Auld Lang Syne’ final post of the year, the online countdown clock indicated that it’s 2 days, 14 hours, 41 minutes, 56 seconds until the new year is rung in here in the Colorado Rockies. But, hey, ‘who’s counting?’ wonders the Muse.

As was the case at the end of 2020, many – perhaps most – await the turning of the clock to 2022 with bated breath, wishing to bid adieu to another tumultuous year. We want to turn the page. We long to dive deeply into the fresh start that began with the Solstice promise of our personal newness and culminates as we replace our 2021 calendars with new pages of promise and possibility that the coming year has the potential to bring forth.

It is, as always, up to us – individually and collectively – to bring promise, possibility, and potential to fruition. As sure as the sun’s light is returning day by day here in the northern hemisphere, we will have opportunities to do just that in the hours, days, weeks, and months ahead. What if we trusted the opportunities to come forth at just the right divine time rather than pushing to ‘make’ them happen?

While this year held much tragedy and darkness, lights of love continued to be shined in dark corners needing our attention and care.  May we each be a part of shining the light of love in all the days ahead. May we tap into the countless sources of light available beyond the chaos of the mainstream and its ways. May we receive whatever light we need as we add our unique rays to loving constellations of light and life.

Although the onset of a new year signals the end of the holiday season in our culture, Winter has only just begun. The dark, the cold invites me inward (more snow would help the cause!). The Muse smiles a happy, knowing smile. The season that began fewer than 10 days ago has a 12-week run before it gives way to Spring. Yet our cultural habit of a new year is to make plans and spring into action with goals and commitments to DO more.

What if we took more time for rest and renewal as Nature does in the season of cold? Inward to rest, to renew. Inward to commune with the sacred and to gather all that is necessary to burst forth in Spring. While certainly there is life and livelihood to maintain, jobs to go to, businesses to tend, political action to be voiced, stories to be told, I wonder how the world might be if we began the calendar year in greater alignment with Nature?

What might be possible for us individually and collectively if our first goal for the new year was intending rest and renewal of body, mind, and spirit?

As I reflect on saying ‘Goodbye’ and refrain from saying ‘good riddance’, my year end reflections first written at the end of 2016 seem as apropos (with a few additions) today as they did five years ago.

At year end, we tend to look back on joys, sorrows, what we accomplished, where we may have fallen short. Hopefully our review list includes acknowledging all that we discovered about ourselves and learned from the opportunities and events life presented.

As 2021 ends, many will breathe a sigh of relief that it is finally over along with a breath of hope for better days in the year ahead.  The world we live in is chaotic and uncertain. It IS! Those who put attention on that world forgetting that it is the world we live IN, NOT the world we are OF may look ahead with dread or fear.

That need not be.

Within each of us is a seed of understanding who we truly are. Nurturing that seed grows our faith in our capacity to be resilient in the face of the world’s chaos. In this year ahead, I have a sense that we will need to tap into our spiritual strength in ways we may not have done before.

This seed of faith is within us all. It is not faith in anything outside of us. Rather it is faith in who we are, each as an individual, integral part of an intelligent Universe. It is a reminder that life is so much more than we experience and observe in our daily routines.

As you ring in 2022, I invite you to join me in nourishing your seed of faith in each of the 365 days ahead and to remember how important your presence and your ray of light is at this moment on the planet.

With that intention top of mind and heart, I’ll be participating in a global event 7 Days of Rest and Sacred Renewal during the first week of the new year. The event’s introductory words drew me in with their reminder of the power of intention and clarity and the potent possibility that alignment and collective action call forth:

7 Days of Rest is an annual, open co-creative event inviting individuals and groups around the world to initiate and join local and online events for the healing and thriving of Earth and all her inhabitants. During the first 7 Days of 2022, we unite in seeding the New Year with a sacred field of intention and blessing for a thriving world for all of Life.​ Together we co-create a collective space for renewing ourselves and our sacred bonds with each other and with all of Life. Through rest, deep listening, wisdom sharing and compassionate action we amplify the emerging global culture of peace, health, cooperation and wise governance.

I’m deeply grateful for this discovery/resource (the website -click here - is chock full of nourishing offerings daily!) and I’m looking forward to diving in daily with each of the daily themes. Join me in whatever way best fits your schedule, your life, and your intentions for the year ahead.

Happy New Year!

I hope you’ll join me in participating in this global gathering!

Flowing with Nature in the Season’s Glow

Solstice Hike to the Ziggurat on a Colorado Blue Sky Day

The beauty of Winter Solstice is courage in itself. It is the courage to know that to be new is not necessarily going to be accepted by those expecting the commonplace. … You accept rejection from humankind. You accept rejection from your family and those around you. You move yourself to where there is no rejection: which is the reality of nature all around you. Gregge Tiffen – Winter Solstice: The Christmas Story

So it was with Mary and Joseph. Rejected by the mundane world of the inn, they were offered Nature … Rejoice! In rejection is a gift of direction, of invitation.

This blog day after the Winter Solstice finds me immersed in Solstice newness. Fully present in this moment, I’m tingling to discover what ‘Santa’ will bring forth as opportunity emergent from the chaos of our crumbling mundane world in this new cycle. I’m grateful for the Solstice reminder of courage.

Living life not as a series of goals to be achieved and tasks to be checked off a list, but as the flow of energy, clear with intention and presence in each moment NOW.

The Muse, silent, smiles. ‘Savor this’. The Muse’ silence speaks loudly. It needs no words or deeds in this moment. Savor the quiet. Be still. Turn away from the world and dwell in ‘your’ world. Sing. Dance. Play. With Creation. Embrace open-hearted fullness and satisfaction. Satisfied not that all is how I would have it be, but that I am.

Love.                  

The Great Sand Dunes, Blanca Peak, and the vast Wildlife Refuge — Nature’s Beauty Glows from the Ziggurat

Pivot to Slowing Down

Pines, Native Grasses, and Clouds Over the Foothills. No palm trees here.

The times are urgent; let us slow down. Slowing down is losing our way—not a human capacity or human capability. It is the invitations that are now in the world at large inviting us to listen deeply, to be keen, to be fresh, to be quick with our heels, to follow the sights and sounds of smells of the world." Dr. Bayo Akomolafe (Pace e Bene Nonviolence Service Daily Inspiration for your Nonviolent Journey – 9 November, 2021)

Slowing down is not the modus operandi that most of us take as we navigate life, especially life’s challenges. We speed up even knowing that speed often slows us done. Perhaps racing from place to place or task to task has the appearance of avoiding worry, suffering, and grief under the all too important cultural guise of being productive.

One of my urban dwelling friends recently shared her observation that drivers have speeded up and become reckless not only on her city’s freeways but in the alleyway behind her home. I see similar occurrences more frequently here in my small mountain community as more urban dwellers seek refuge in these quiet, sacred mountains. I wonder if they’re aware of the city habits that followed them.

The Muse reminds me to look to nature, to the trees and flora of these woods. Their natural pace is seeded in their very being, as is ours. While the trees don’t move about from place to place as we do, they know that their pace of growth is in their design and matches the characteristics of the environment. No palm trees in the woods out back.

Could it benefit the earth and we humans individually and collectively to be more rooted in place? We know the answer is ‘yes’ if not from our own senses, then surely from the photos taken of a world in lockdown: Nature free; Earth and her beings breathing.

I feel my roots deepening after 13 years here, and, as I shared with a friend yesterday, I prefer being home to travelling, even short distances. Just as Zadie Byrd sleeps in the tub of our guest bathroom as her ‘safe place’, this place is my ‘tub’. I understand the necessity of some travel. But was it necessary for 400 private jets to descend on Glasgow for COP26 and for countless entourages of limousines to ferry dignitaries about? What is the consciousness that makes such choices? What is in our consciousness that can shift to call forth different choices like that of my friend, Rivera Sun (author, activist, teacher of nonviolence) who announced several weeks ago that she would no longer fly to teach?

What is mine to change in me, my choices, my community?

I’ve had this and similar questions in mind each morning during the COP26 gathering as I’ve listened to the mindful moments presented by Listening to the Earth . I was moved this morning by Belen Paez who heard the call of the forest as a youngster and whose work demonstrates that she continues to listen. She has attended many COPs and, along with a song from her region, shared that she senses a different kind of listening at this COP: a listening more deeply to one another and to the earth, along with a waking up of we humans to the importance of her native Amazon region to life on the planet.

In our fast-paced culture we find it easy and convenient to rely on others – leaders, governments, corporations, even NGOs to do the work of environmental restoration and protection. And, while they have important roles to play, we each need to look closer to home, in the mirror perhaps and to ask questions of ourselves. To borrow from the 35th President of the United States let’s ask not what the Planet can do for us, let’s ask what we can do for our Planet.

What choices and habits do I have that add to the pressure on the Amazon and other critical bioregions? That’s the hard work of individual exploration, discovery, and making changes. First, using what I know about plastics, polyester, conventionally grown cotton, etc. to make changes right here at home. Next, searching for resources, both information and more earth-friendly products (check out Green America for a wealth of information including their recently released scorecard on toxic textiles). Then taking action, perhaps bold action, from what I discover.

As conscious as I think I am, I can’t claim much more than a ‘fair to good’ record on my own scorecard on the home front. Although it’s no excuse, we are products of a culture that promotes consumption and convenience while it measures success almost entirely in economic terms.

Which, in the Muse’s sometimes roundabout way, brings us to slowing down. For surely it is in our rush that we make choices of ease and convenience for us while adding to the stress on Nature, on our Mother Planet Earth. When I slow down and give myself time to reflect, to hear Nature, I remember that I have an important role to play in sculpting the future of the planetary being of which I am a part. I remember that my choices are in part responsible for the strategies that companies follow in their quest to have me (and you and everyONE) consume their goods and services.

Where I spend and where I invest, regardless how much or little, matters. Beyond ones that are obvious for me (local, organic foods; investing in natural health; etc.) there are fields of information and possibility to explore. When I slow down and open to listening, I hear their call, their music, and their invitations to explore new points of inspiration and possibilities to pivot. Let’s Dance!

Sunset - Clouds in the Eastern Sky

Being The 'Listening Heaven' on Earth

Sun and Shadow. Rain and Rainbow.

Trees are the earth’s endless effort to speak to the listening heaven. Rabindranath Tagore

Last week I shared the question that my heart heard as I was walking in the woods out back (click here): What would I do if I loved the earth unconditionally?

I’d love to say that I’ve reflected on the question each day and made many adjustments in daily life to live more fully aligned with Gaia. Reflected? Yes. Daily? Not quite. Adjustments? Few.

And yet, I feel an expansion, a deepening in my capacity to listen and to hear the voice of our home. Listening and hearing are the pivot points for change whether heard through the ears as sound or the heart as a felt sense of truth.

With so much dark and heavy noise in the world, I’m tuning my inner radio to the sounds of the earth, listening to ‘stations’ where the voices share information not just of the head, but also of the heart.

No surprise that much of my ‘listening’ to Mother Earth is visual. These sacred mountains and the woods out back whisper, “beauty, consistency, harmony, change and adaptation, peaceful presence.” Yesterday afternoon as I headed out the door, I discovered that along with the bright sunshine, it was raining lightly. I raced out to an opening where I could see the rainbow that I knew for sure would there. This morning the Muse and I walked the labyrinth, curious about how today’s message would unfold. Greeted by the sun’s first rays on the pines, I was reminded that light always follows the darkness.

Beyond these woods and the peaks above, I’m tuned in to Listening to the Earth’s daily ‘moments of mindful connection’ (find them here) offered by representatives of Indigenous peoples and cultures around our beautiful globe in support of bringing heart and soul to the science and politics of the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change (COP26). I wonder what’s possible as more and more leaders and negotiators listen with heart as well as head (and the latest poll numbers)? How might the stresses on our planet and ourselves (our cells!) be eased as we listen to the trees seeking to listen as deeply as heaven surely does?

Inspired by the wisdom in this morning’s ‘moment’, I felt my heart open and connect with the heart of the earth. The felt sense of oneness with Mother Earth was palpable. I ‘knew’ that there was no separation between my body and Gaia, a knowing of the heart not just of my slippery mind. And I knew that this is true for each and every one of us – those with whom I’m in solidarity on many issues of the day and those whose views and actions are not aligned with mine. There is no separation.

The Muse reminds me of a question posed by Gregg Braden in a recent interview: Do you love yourself enough to listen and give your body what it needs? (The Muse also says to let you know you’ll be hearing more about what that interview stirred.). Since I and the Earth are ONE, do I love myself and the Earth, to live more fully in alignment with her/with me? What would I do if I loved myself unconditionally? What choices would I shift? Where would my free will carry me? Do I have the courage to find out?

Curious about COP26 beyond what you hear in the media? Here are a few places to explore: https://nature4climate.org/nature-positive/

https://unfccc.int/conference/glasgow-climate-change-conference-october-november-2021

The earth has music for those who listen. George Santayana

First Rays on the Labyrinth

3D: Damsels, Dragons, and Doggies

Dragonfly takes a little rest to enjoy a fading bloom

Light always lightens the load.

Recent experiences of life in 3D on planet earth here in the woods of the Sangre de Cristo range have found me focused on Zadie Byrd, in particular calming her during stormy weather (we’re in week two of our ‘monsoon’ season – more thunder than rain, though grateful for every drop) and at night when I turn out the lights.

So, what do damsels and dragons have to do with that, you might ask? Are there really dragons and damsels in the woods out back? Well, no (at least not visible to me in this 3D body), but during this time of exploration and experimentation with Zadie Byrd I’ve been blessed with several damselfly and dragonfly visits. These amazing creatures of nature symbolize light, in particular the power of light.

And light is what I want to shed on Zadie’s reactivity. Clarity to define a path to easing her tension and reactive nature is my aim. Lightening my load in the process is my intention.

About the same time as I began to seek the advice of experts, explore options, including the possibility of finding her a new home, dragonfly and damselfly began to ‘visit’. My first sighting was a dragonfly resting in a hanging basket while I tended the flowers. I took note and welcomed it, since, after all my home is the Dragonfly House.

Then, yesterday, I observed a damsel(fly) in distress – inside the kitchen window, flying into the glass in an apparent effort to get back to its world outside that window. The rescue and relocation were simple – a nearby yogurt container and a piece of paper provided just the vehicle needed to secure and transport this amazing creature to the door. Upon release, I wished it well and the damselfly quickly flew into a nearby pine where it landed, seeming to look down and offer a nod of thanks.

Damselfly in Distress

This morning after a walk in the labyrinth, I saw a brief flash of light as I sat on a log in the nearby ‘circle of elders.’ After a few moments, I decided to investigate the end of the log where I’d seen the flash. Voila! There was a (the?) damselfly. Reminding me yet again to bring the power of light to every project, every issue, every concern.  Light always lightens the load.

Yesterday’s rescue and this morning’s encounter remind me of a woodpecker that I saw tangled in a mess of fishing line in a bush many years ago. After calming the bird and painstakingly disentangling it, it flew to the top of the bush and landed. We looked at one another for a bit, me amazed that the being could still fly and the woodpecker seeming grateful for its freedom. I saw that woodpecker frequently in the days that followed.

The muse carries me to these tales (tails?) giving pause (paws?) for reflection and to remember that amidst change, especially change from the inside out, letting go of that which no longer (indeed may have never) serves us we sometimes take several steps forward, then falter or even take a step back. This part of the process offers the opportunity to take stock of where we are, where we’re headed, and make adjustments.  It can also be a pause for gratitude for whatever gifts the event is bringing us and a reminder that while nature is in service to us, we are best served when we honor and serve the nature on which we depend.

Although Zadie Byrd can’t speak human words to tell me what’s going on, like all canine companions she speaks through her actions, her eyes, and her body language. She takes me to that place of listening with my eyes and registering with my heart, a pause (paws) that refreshes.

Source of Light - Damselfly at Rest on a Log