Beauty and The Beasts

Mother Mary Statue - Mother Mary’s Garden, San Luis, Colorado

Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are a hundred ways to kneel and kiss the ground. Rumi

I felt drawn to Rumi this morning and as I searched for his volume on the shelf another book caught my attention. Muse seemed less surprised than I when I opened Carolyn Baker’s Sacred Demise: Walking the Spiritual Path of Industrial Civilization’s Collapse to a chapter that began with the above quote. Ahh, the magic of life.

The surprise continued as I read the first paragraph where Baker cites the John O’Donohue book I turn to often, Beauty: The Invisible Embrace, quoting a line that I used here just a few weeks back:

When we walk the earth with reverence, beauty will decide to trust us.

My smile meets Muse’s knowing twinkle. THIS is the magic of how life flows. THIS is life that dances and wants to rise. THIS is who we are.

I felt as if I’d come home to discover surprise guests, gifts both comforting and unsettling. I felt comfort in the wise words, of being reminded of the power of beauty, and of beauty’s existence in so many forms. When we look for beauty, it is either present to be discovered or we encounter a space, a longing where beauty beckons us to create its essence. As O’Donohue suggests, beauty comes to trust us when we hold reverence for her and for all life.

At the same time, I was present to the unsettled nature of this time and to inhabiting my own unsettledness. It feels to me as if the cacophonies of chaos are raising their voices in every domain of life. The pace toward and of the collapse of the world we have known seems to have quickened. We are gifted with the challenge of navigating life in uncharted waters. Beauty offers to light the path.

Navigation is both a solo journey and one of community. We each have our own path of inner work to engage as well as engaging in maintaining our daily life on the physical plane in outmoded, crumbling systems. This is no different for communities large and small. Each must reckon with the past, create its identity in the present, and maintain life as it looks ahead to new futures rising.

It is a time of beasts, but it need not be a time deficient of beauty. At the heart of the collapse of systems built on the lie of separation are the emergence of systems and structures built on the truth of unity, our interconnectedness with one another and with ALL of life. Our dance encompasses both – the dying along with all that is gestating and being born.

While we hospice the disintegration of that which we once knew, let us midwife the birth of that which wants to rise not from the greed of separation but from the true nature of our loving hearts.

Sunset Moon Over the San Luis Valley

Calling Forth the Beauty in All of Life

Rainbow Over the Stupa

Only if there is beauty in us can we recognize beauty elsewhere: beauty knows beauty. In this way beauty can be a mirror that manifests our own beauty. … To achieve a glimpse of inner beauty strengthens our sense of dignity and grace. John O’Donohue (Beauty: The Invisible Embrace)

On our walk yesterday afternoon, shortly after stopping briefly to help a neighbor, something caught my eye as I looked at these amazing mountains: a faint band of red, a rainbow beginning to form.

I watched as the other bands of color slowly became visible – yellow, green, blue, purple. Beauty unfolding on the stage before me, the sacred Sangre de Cristo Mountains a splendid backdrop. Continuing to watch, colors brightened, faded, brightened again through several cycles as rain moved south. Zadie Byrd patiently sniffed the territory in no rush to move on from the beauty her olfactory system was discovering.

As the rainbow faded, we walked on. With the mountains behind us the vast San Luis Valley now offered its own visual feast. When we rounded the corner toward home, the mountains were once more ahead. Taking in the sacred landscape, I discovered that the rainbow had brightened once again and, from our vantage point, was hanging over the largest of several local Buddhist stupas. Another dose of stunning beauty.

Now, as I write before dawn, the tingle of rainbow’s beauty returns. Or, perhaps, it lingers. I’m reminded of this O’Donohue wisdom which seems to mirror my experience:

The experience of beauty has for the most part a particular force. It envelopes and overcomes us. Yet there are times when beauty reveals itself slowly. There are times when beauty is shy and hesitates until it can trust the worthiness of the beholder.

The visual beauty of the rainbow eventually faded but the imprint of its beauty on this heart lives on, a gentle reminder that beauty is first and always an inside job. Beauty is always present to the heart that beholds her.

I gently close my journal feeling that Muse and I are complete. I notice that beauty has been our focus of late and am curious about Muse guiding me here. No,’ nudges Muse, ‘we aren’t quite done yet.’

Questions emerge: How might we call forth the shy beauty hidden in the so-called problems of our world? Of the bumps and bruises in our individual roads of life? How might we demonstrate our worthiness so that beauty will be revealed? How might I behold that beauty?

My questions hang like the crescent moon over these mountains as dawn breaks.

I think of how slowly and deliberately Nature revealed hidden aspects of her beauty during the Covid pause two years ago. Wildlife returning. Skies clearing. Clean waters flowing. What was our worthiness to witness that? How could we allow it slip away in our quest to return to ‘normal’?

My attention turns to a contentious issue here in my community. How can I call forth the beauty that is surely hidden in the divisiveness? How can I demonstrate my worthiness so that any shy beauty can be revealed?

With a gentle nod, Muse seems to say, ‘Simply stop, look, listen, and love. Know that beauty IS there in each and every player.’

Indeed, beauty IS there. And so it is with all the world’s seeming darkness as well as the dim patches in our own lives. Gentle rays of light penetrate deep to point the way when we stop, look, love, and listen for beauty and light of wisdom within.

Now, about that mouse that visited the kitchen overnight … surely there is beauty waiting to be revealed.

Morning Moon Over the Sangres

Magic and The Beauty of Life

Baby Pinecone

Watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you, because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it. Roald Dahl

Yesterday morning I picked up a book that’s been on a nearby shelf for several years. It’s one of many that I’ve started over the years then set aside, pulled away by a shinier red ball or something that seemed at the time a more interesting or urgent trail. There wasn’t time to read in that moment, so I set it aside resolving to read later in the day.

When we returned from a lovely post-dinner walk, Zadie Byrd resisted coming inside. It was a beautiful evening, Sun moving through clouds on its journey to the western horizon, calm and quiet. Rather than insisting that she come in so I could read as planned, I grabbed the book and joined her outside. Ahh, the beauty of a Rocky Mountain evening.

Zadie explored the grounds where her long lead will allow, then pawed some earth and settled in. I settled into a waiting chair, taking a breath, scanning the landscape, and absorbing the serene beauty. A moment of gratitude for Zadie’s ‘suggestion’.

When I opened the book, I was greeted by the above quote. I read just a bit more, then read the quote again. Hmm… I closed the book, wanting to observe my surroundings with luminous eyes, ears, and all my senses. I thought of my desire to be a more keen observer of Nature, to hear and understand her messages. That being the topic of the book, I sensed I was receiving a new lesson, one that put my attention not on words on a page, but on Nature herself. I wondered if Muse was standing by.

I picked up a baby pinecone laying on the ground by my feet, probably knocked out of the tree in Monday’s hailstorm. It smelled of fresh sap and was gentle to my touch. I sensed that I was part of it and it a part of me. We were at once different AND of the same Source.

I felt deep gratitude as I wondered ‘who is that flitting in the pine?’. I took the challenge of seeing clearly in the fading light to discover western wood pewee, white breasted nuthatch, and violet green swallow. I ignored the gnat or small fly buzzing in my ear, to watch Sun’s last rays highlight the twists and turns of branches in an old pine that never fail to have me wonder ‘how/why do they do that?’

I sat, heart and whole being filled with gratitude for this place, this time, this planet, life. This gratitude grounds me in what is real beyond the world’s sound bites, stresses, and strains; its horrors and heartaches; its violence and injustice.

As the light faded, I realized how quiet this dusk is. I thought about an unidentified (so far) voice in the woods that I frequently hear summer evenings. As the thought exits, that voice – a deep, one note sound – enters. I chuckle and rise to move slowing in the voice’s direction. Maybe this day, I will see ‘it’. Not to be. ‘It’ is silent.

After a bit, I roust Zadie and we come inside to prepare for our night’s rest. Closing a back window, I see Moon in her fullness rising over the mountains and through the trees. Having spent time with Sun as she fell in the west, I’m drawn out back to be with Moon. Zadie declines to join me.

Moon mesmerizes as she shines through the trees, like Sun highlighting twists and turns in the pine branches. The unknown voice returns, speaks, moves, speak again, moves, speaks, moves … I sit in awe and deep gratitude for the magic of witnessing and participating in this life.

Muse smiles as I write this, knowing that my understanding and conviction of gratitude as a doorway to magic and peace has deepened overnight. Sun has just risen over the mountains and her rays into the woods. Cycles. Magic. Life.

As I prepare this post, I wonder about the symbolism of gnat and I ask ‘Dr. Google’. My quick search reveals such meanings as perseverance, transformation, change, and new perspectives. Sounds like more evidence of magic to me!

Moonrise in the Pines

Investing in Soul

Magical, Mystical RAIN!

Investing in beauty is an investment in my soul.

Muse knows that I’m excited this early morning, the second day of summer (Happy Solstice!). I’m immersed in the motion of summer, engaged in a project that has long been a dream. An unexpected trip to a regional nursery is on today’s agenda. Beauty is on the horizon.

A pre-Solstice heat wave was followed by much needed and blessed rain along with cooler temperatures. Rain over several days moistened the parched earth and left behind shining rocks that look as if they’ve had a good scrubbing. Birdsong seems even more cheerful, and I sense the unseen Beings in the woods out back are dancing with me in celebration.

Nature has awakened to her season of growth. Cones are forming on the pines. Cacti are blooming. Mother Earth delights in the softness of the moisture and watching her progeny grow.

Just as I imagine the fay dancing, my mind’s ears hear a dialog among the pinons. “I’m starting my cones today,” says one. “I’m gathering my energy to begin. Maybe tomorrow or …” replies another. In the world that I know as reality, their underground communication network is in full swing, collaborating to make the best of conditions above and below ground.

I too am in motion. The expanding collection of geraniums has been moved from their winter home indoors to the outdoors, bringing life and eventually color to the deck overlooking the woods. Moving and caring for them at the season’s change has become a ritual of creating beauty.

This season a project that’s been a dream for some time is coming to fruition. One side of my home is quite barren. Seemingly it was more impacted when the home was constructed and never received any TLC. Then last year installation of the solar system disrupted it further.

After construction was complete, I asked the area what it wanted, hoping that its desires would align with my long-held ideas. The area seemed to understand that it couldn’t be returned to its natural state and simply asked for beauty. ‘I just want to be a part of the beauty of this place, the home, Nature, and the woods out back,’ is what I sensed the area to say.

Since that ‘conversation’ I’ve envisioned creating beauty that would flow visually into the woods. This week finds me putting that vision into reality. Co-creating with Nature and a creative partner who knows what plants thrive here in the mountains. He has a keen eye for creating beauty and a strong body to dig in our rocky soil. He loves doing so and engages the process with keen awareness and meditatively. A joy to create with and to watch!

We’re using, with permission, the gifts of rock and driftwood, the trees and natural terrain of this landscape adding drought tolerant, deer resistant plants many of which will attract butterflies, bees, and the hummingbirds that nest here in the summer. I’m beyond grateful for his creativity, knowledge, strength, and the level of consciousness he brings each step along the way.

As I walk among the almost overwhelming choices of plants at the nursery, I come to realize that I’m creating a landscape that I’ve dreamed of long before coming to the Rocky Mountains. I’m filled with gratitude that I can invest in creating beauty and that, even before the project is complete, offers deep nourishment to my soul. Ever-present, Muse reminds me:  Investing in beauty IS an investment in the soul.

A Bounty of Beauty

Senses of the Heart

Cottonwood Creek - My Teacher this Week

Listen with ears of the heart. See with eyes of the Heart. Pam Gregory

As I settle in to write this morning the day is barely dawning. Earlier I stepped out to see the Moon in her fullness as she moved to the western horizon. The stunning lineup of planets and the all the stars were giving way to dawn’s light. In the cool crispness I observed the clear sky, absent of smoke and haze present in recent days.

As I breathe in the fresh, cool air – deep and slow - I pull the afghan knitted decades ago by my grandmother over my legs and feet and invite Muse in.

Thinking of Gran reminds that I’ve experienced promptings this week to reflect on family. I, my generation, is the last of this branch of the family since I and my now deceased cousins each for different reasons chose not to bear children.

I don’t regret my choice, having been a partner in raising my stepson, now with a family of his own and continuing to hold him close to my heart despite the miles and life priorities that limit frequent contact. I choose not to create obligation or guilt, but to allow the relationship to flow where it flows. As Muse reminds me that a relationship based on obligation is no relationship at all, I realize that it is a decision that I’ve made with my heart, asking my head to follow heart’s lead in defying a culture that holds a particular definition of how ‘family’ should look.

These days I embrace Nature as my family of choice, the ‘family’ that I love and learn from daily. This is the ‘family’ I long to be in right relationship with. Muse prompts a wondering: is it possible to be in right relationship with another human while our relationship with Nature is askew?

In the little corner of the globe that I occupy and call home I want to right my relationship with Mother Earth and ALL of her progeny. This week She reminded me in Her gentle way that a part of right relationship requires asking permission.

For the past couple weeks, I’ve been gathering water from nearby Cottonwood Creek as a part of the experimental nourishing two pinon pines in the woods out back. Mother and Grandmother Pinon each agreed when I asked if they would be willing to receive. So, I began the process: bringing in water from the creek, mixing an Ormus formula, activating with frequency 528Hz tones, pouring around the tree. I’ve felt a deep connection to each tree as I engaged.

One morning this week at the creek as I busily filled a bucket and thanked the water, I realized that I’d never asked for permission to do so. It was as if the creek was speaking to my heart. The reminder brought a wave of guilt and sadness for my thoughtlessness, yet I knew that I was hearing through the ears of my heart.

I asked for the creek and the water’s forgiveness and for permission to continue. In hindsight I see that those words were more from my head than my heart as I quickly completed my bucket filling task and brought the water home.

I’ve carried this moment with me as I’ve observed with deep gratitude all the ways that Mother Earth and Nature support me with unquestioning, unconditional love. My heart sees the many ways that I take that love for granted, assuming that I have permission to walk on the earth wherever and whenever I choose and to use the resources She provides unconsciously and at will.

These are habits of lifetime and culture that I in this chapter of life I aim to shift by engaging the senses of my heart more fully from moment to moment and day to day.

I cannot know how my life would have unfolded if I’d learned early on to listen to Mother Earth in this way. As I feel deep gratitude that I am learning now, I wonder how our culture might be had we followed this wisdom of the ancients – listening to and working in cooperation with Nature. I aspire to do my part to give our progeny the gift of knowing. Perhaps this is a pivot we each might attend to in our own unique way.

Cones Birthing on the Grandmother Tree

Return on Investment

Morning Light in the Woods

I know it's way too Utopian to think we will all ever just hug and love each other- but proactively dealing with hate could be as important to the future as clean water. Bobby Sagar

The sky lightens earlier and earlier each morn as Mother Earth moves toward the Summer Solstice in less than two weeks. Warmer weather has arrived here in the Sangres bringing the blessing of cool evenings and crisp, cool mornings. Nature’s air-conditioning.

Just as I do as winter settles in, I remember the patterns and adjustments needed for the season: windows open at dawn, closed as the sun rises over the peaks and shines in the woods, open in the evening cool, close at bedtime lest bear feels invited in. Cycles. Adjustments. Patterns. Breaks. Life!

My investment in rest this week has returned an abundance of reflection and thought time. Cycles of light and dark have been part of that reflection. Knowing that each and every day when one part of Mother Earth is in darkness, another part is in light. The light expands in summer and contracts in winter. Consistency.

We experience this cycle 365 days a year. I’ve experienced it 26,349 times during this sojourn on the planet, far too many of those cycles unconsciously, even grudgingly. Especially in my young adult years waking to the annoying ringing of an alarm clock (remember those?). Ugh! Another day already? Do I really have to get up? In those years too few mornings were met with the tingles of gratitude, wonder, and curiosity I experience today.

Though different, my gratitude and wonder these days is reminiscent of the wonder and excitement I remember as a child. Excited to explore and discover what treasures and treasured experiences awaited, I was the first kid in the neighborhood to be awake and outside on summer mornings. I didn’t have an awareness of gratitude in those early years; perhaps my joy was sufficient.

Pen pauses. Muse has taken me on an unexpected turn in this reflective flow, but perhaps a worthy turn it is. In the morning cool and quiet I wonder how it relates to the week’s experiences and other reflections such as acknowledging the darkness in events around the globe without being overwhelmed by them.

Honoring my deep desire to be a point of light that attracts other light while maintaining my balance and sovereignty, I remember that everything is magnified by the Universe without distinguishing what we think of as good or bad. Everything. Every thought. Every word. Every deed. I experience a moment of sadness, regret for mindless words spoken to a friend when I was irritated recently and for feeling irritated itself. It’s a strong reminder to pause, to breath before speaking.

Muse smiles and reminds me about my reaction yesterday to a new structure being built nearby that seems quite out of place and character in our neighborhood and community, both its physical appearance and intended us. I think about the trees sacrificed in the name of generating a high return on investment. No regard for Nature. No regard for community and community needs. I’ve been there in that profit only mindset. I’m pivoting to a new understanding and finding new investment vehicles for the resources I have access to.  (Hmm … another unexpected turn from Muse in this morning consciousness stream.)

Gently I return to the new structure, thinking about the challenge to speak my concerns from non-judgement, non-violence, and love, putting my attention on my care for Nature and the nature of our community. I wonder if there is cause to rally neighbors in protest. How might we do so with love? And, how will I stay in my center, not getting caught in the flurry of a word storm or contributing to it, while standing in and speaking my truth?

This I sense is what we are being called to do as world chaos intensifies and the old breaks down to make way for the new. How will we invest our energy to generate returns in the form of a new world, higher consciousness, a world that works for all? How will I? How will we begin to see and understand our complicity in each of the day’s pressing issues – micro/community and macro/global - without losing heart and hope and with an eye toward making individual pivots toward that better world? How will I? How will we learn to value ALL life and reflect that value in our daily choices? How will I?

Blessing the Feeding of the Mother Pinon Pine

Pivot from Complaint to Curiosity

Dust Storm on the Plains

Whether the weather be fine, or whether the weather be not,
Whether the weather be cold, or whether the weather be hot,
We'll weather the weather, whatever the weather,
Whether we like it or not. Anonymous (of British origin)

 A complaining tongue reveals an ungrateful heart. … The pessimist complains about the wind. The optimist expects it to change. And the realist adjusts the sails. William Arthur Ward

 The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing. Albert Einstein

 Other than when sailing in Galveston Bay decades ago, the perceptible movement of air at rather high speeds has never been a favored weather event. Years later living on the high plains among west Texas cotton fields and now here in the mountains above the drought-stricken San Luis Valley, I grapple with how I might make peace with the 20-30MPH winds gusting to 45-50MPH and the dust that is stirred up as these winds blow.

Muse, tapping on my shoulder, suggests this just could be an opportunity to listen more deeply to Nature and to hear her voice. I do wonder what the intense wind is offering. What is the bigger picture, macro, to my experiencing this wind here in my little micro space in the woods? My attention shifts from the default of complaint to my deep curiosity about our planet. What IS this wind saying?

How do I listen to this voice of the Earth, Gaia, home? For I sense that she wants our attention … umm MY attention. Is the intense wind in some way a reflection of the chaos we are embroiled in as humanity? Is she asking that I/we look in the mirror at our habits, our choices and how they are connected to weather extremes? Is she suggesting that we haven’t heard her whispers in gentle breezes, so now she must increase her volume?

 Are we throwing complaints at her not intending harm yet causing harm because we don’t truly understand our part in creating the chaos all of Nature is reflecting?

 What would it take to be as grateful for the wind today as I was seven years ago when Nature delivered a much needed 15-inch dump of spring snow? What is the wind moving that can’t move on its own? What if this wind is what’s needed to move seeds to a new home? Or, to keep pesky mosquitos at bay? Would there be stunningly beautiful sand dunes to enjoy in the nearby Great Sand Dunes National Park if wind had not played its role in the symphony that created that beauty? Heck, would there even be a park at all? And what about the growing use of wind as a source of renewable power?

I discover gratitude is nourishment for curiosity, much healthier than complaint. What if Nature truly is reflecting our human behaviors? Everything IS connected, you know! What if Nature’s extremes are inviting us to listen – to develop the willingness and capacity to truly hear one another? What if our responding to Her invitation is key not just to the human family of disparate beings with varied gifts and divergent opinions getting along, but also to working in greater cooperation with Gaia, our Mother, our home?

What might be possible for our world if we eliminated complaints from our menu of habits? Where might curiosity lead us if we dare to ask bold questions and let our imaginations wonder? What does Nature have to say? Are we listening? Am I?  

Mother’s Day Snow 2015

Present In the Flow of Life

The Labyrinth in the Woods Out Back Awaits …

Scattered thoughts like a herd stampeding go nowhere, fast.

The Eyes of the Future are looking back at us and they are praying for us to see beyond our own time.  Terry Tempest Williams, Red: Passion and Patience in the Desert

Muse wasn’t successful getting my attention in the early morning quiet that is typically ‘our’ time. I’d been thinking about regeneration and, wanting that to be this week’s focus, decided to do more reading online. Now, after our morning walk and breaking fast, I find myself challenged to engage Muse. Reminded I am of a ditty penned in a workshop 33 years ago - Scattered thoughts like a herd stampeding go nowhere, fast - for this morning finds my thoughts scattered from the macro of mostly discouraging world events and exciting possibilities of designing life in alignment with regenerative principles to the micro of life’s daily details. Today those ‘details’ are focused on preparing for Zadie Byrd’s second eye surgery tomorrow.

Somewhere between the two – yet very present this day – is a deep sadness that runs from micro to macro, from me and my cells to Mother Earth, Nature and ALL her beings. I choose not to let it be the driver of this (and hopefully any) day while recognizing that on another day grief and sadness may need to be tended.

Writing this thought, I’m reminded of a story shared by author, activist Terry Tempest Williams in a recent talk. In conversation with three rather powerful men (think Presidential cabinet types) she asked where their grief lived. Two responded sincerely about their deep feelings of concern. The third replied that he wanted to ‘keep the conversation positive’ and said to Terry, “You are married to sorrow.” She replied, “No. I choose not to look away.”

Her response highlights for me one of the strengths of the Feminine: choosing not to deny, to look away from the degradation of Nature, of Mother Earth, of one another; yet not getting entangled in the muck. A tricky and delicate dance this is, a dance that calls forth a key element of Divine Feminine energy, aka ‘Love’: seeking, finding, as well as creating new paths forward individually and collectively. Love acknowledges. Love questions. Love collaborates. Love co-creates. Love acts. This love is not gender specific, found only in the female form, etc. The love of the Divine Feminine simply IS.

Muse chuckles noting that these thoughts don’t seem ‘scattered’ at all, and I’m aware that my earlier sadness has lifted. Zadie Byrd, back in her ‘cone of courage’, sleeps nearby, her way of preparing for tomorrow. The wind has calmed and the labyrinth in the woods out back awaits my presence.

This 454th (yes, I’m counting) post has found its way to the page, the page of my journal and the pages of my life. Regeneration in action on a micro scale! Engaging Muse is a journey into the unknown, taking the first step, writing that first word, and discovering where the flow will lead. Present to the present while holding curiosity and wonder about what we can create for the time beyond.

Sleeping is the Best …

Pivot to Harmony - Earth Day, Every Day

Moonrise Over the Sangres

Our role with nature is to work in harmony with it to bring its elements to the highest degree of their manifestation. Gregge Tiffen

 … a shared love of Nature was the most political act of all. Terry Tempest Williams (Refuge)

 Two years ago, on the 50th Earth Day, I pivoted my weekly blog from ‘The Zone’ to ‘The Pivot’ because we need new stories, new ways of being to navigate our world toward justice. Not just justice for we humans, but justice for ALL beings, especially our home, Mother Earth. One day is not enough to care for Mother Earth, our home.

 One day is not enough to care. One day is not enough to bring justice. Earth-care like self-care requires our attention and awareness, our presence, 24/7. Or, as author Terry Tempest Williams says, Earth-care IS self-care.

 As I’ve reflected on this 52nd Earth Day and listened to many women thought leaders share reflections and actions from their hearts about the state of our world, our Earth, ourselves, the word harmony rises to surface once again as it has in past Earth Day posts.  Harmony within. Harmony with one another. Harmony with Nature. Harmony with Mother Earth. [Check out Women Working for the Earth Summit for replays. Or KGNU Boulder’s Connections interview on Earth Day.]

 I’m not suggesting that we should always agree or forego our beliefs for the sake of harmony. Indeed, harmony requires that we speak our voice. To follow this course would compromise our harmony within.  I’m not suggesting that we think only positive thoughts or simply look away from that which triggers our anger, our angst, our grief at what is lost and what we are losing daily. That would undermine our integrity.

 Muse suggests that we/I need to engage more deeply with all of life in harmonious ways. The Universe is designed in harmony and our dominion with the Earth is to maintain and restore that harmony. With every thought, every word, every deed we are contributing to harmony that supports Nature and the Earth or we are contributing to disharmony, putting Mother Earth in the position of taking drastic action to rebalance. 

Our thoughts matter. Our words matter. How we maintain our bodies, our homes and care for our pets and our plants matter.  Even how we sleep matters.  Every thought I have and every word I speak never dies. My thoughts and yours contribute to mass consciousness moment by moment, day to day. The planet responds to that consciousness. That is her design.  

 Harmony matters. Let us make each and every day Mother Earth Day by depositing thoughts of harmony into the bank of the collective consciousness. Let us face the challenges of injustice with love and with courage rather than fear and rancor. Let us question our daily choices with curiosity and care rather than rigid fundamentalism of any flavor.

 May I experience and live harmony within. May I live in harmony with others, especially those with whom I disagree. May my choices moment to moment reflect Harmony with Nature and Harmony with Mother Earth. This is my prayer for self and humanity.

Full Moon over the Woods Out Back

Pivot to Inspirations and Provocations

I call this ‘Painting What You See’ (found image, unknown source)

In the greatest cultures of the ancient world there was a stairway between the human and the divine. The Earth and the cosmos were addressed as "thou," not "it". People felt they participated in a great cosmic mystery of which they were a part. People experienced the divine as imminent in the material world. Nature and the cosmos were ensouled with divine presence. Ceremonies like those performed at Stonehenge ... connected Earth with heaven and strengthened the sense of participation in a divine reality.  Anne Baring

What if I really believed everything is in divine order? Quanita Roberson

Over the past week or so I’ve intentionally put my attention on that which informs, inspires, and provokes me to reflect. I’m not ignoring the multiplicity of crises that we are each a part of. And I’m doing my best not to feed the fear and separation from which our crises arise. Not looking to be distracted or entertained, but rather to be informed and guided more deeply to understand and act in ways that honor Nature, humanity, and the divine.

I wonder how I can live more fully into my instinctive knowing that Nature, humanity, and the divine are not separate. Isn’t that what maturity is? How can I grow up?

The exploration has taken me on several tracks, discovering new (to me) voices profound in their wisdom, reminding me that way back in college days (decades ago!) I wondered what it would be like to become a philosopher. Perhaps that’s a seed now breaking through the soil of my life.

Early this morning as I wandered over the week’s landscape and began to wonder (in truth, I felt quite unclear and a bit worried) where Muse and I would go with today’s post, Muse directed, “just sit down and WRITE!”. Ah, yes, pick up the pen and allow the words to come. To flow. Allow the joy of discovery that rises when I step into the unknown.

For surely, we are in a time when we are called to make peace with the unknown. Befriend her. Perhaps even embrace her with our hint of ‘knowing’ that we are co-creating the story, not observers or victims on the journey. How am I participating in this co-creation?

How will the disparate thought threads from my exploration weave together? Heck, will they?

Something has shifted in my awareness about our language: that so much of it is formed around the masculine. The scales of language today are weighted with the yang energy favored in our culture. Is it any wonder that conflict and war continue to prevail? How can we balance the scales, perhaps even tip them toward yin energy? The feminine? The caring of the Great Mother?

This awareness has me want to be care-filled rather than habitual in choosing the words I write and speak for surely my habits of language were all too often curated by the prevailing energy.

That means slowing down. Discerning what is mine to do, to say. Letting go of all that is not. Perhaps some of the disparate threads don’t belong in this weave. Perhaps they are not mine to weave. Release and trust the wind to carry them where they need to be. They will return if meant to be.

It means that my habits need new curators, mid-wives for birthing new words, new ways, new habits, new stories that we so long for. Perhaps my explorations are indeed a search for impassioned, caring voices of The New to inspire, provoke, and to share when Muse and I settle in to write. Muse nods in agreement, reminding me that the above quotes are from new (to me) sage women each with deep connection to the divine and each taking care in the words they speak. I discovered them listening in to an amazing Humanity Rising panel discussion on feminism and democracy (click here to listen). I’m adding both of them to my curator team.

Likewise it means observing and listening to Zadie Byrd with expanded senses. She seems aligned with this direction, as she indicated to our animal communicator in a session this morning, sharing that she doesn’t care for the energy of the traditional veterinarian who did her eyelid surgery and has been doing the follow-up to clear her eye of what seems to be some sort of infection. “I want to see the ‘herbal vet’,” she said. “I like her energy. It’s freer.” Seems Ms. Byrd is to be on the curator team as well, perhaps as mascot.

Life and learning continue to unfold. Moment to moment we choose where to put our attention and what to paint from where that attention lands. I feel the divine as I grok and aim to live more fully into being part of ‘a great cosmic mystery’.

What if I really believed that everything is in divine order?

Snowy Peaks! Blessed Moisture! Grateful Heart!