Pivoting to Kinship with ALL Life

Full Moon Morning … I am Moon, Moon is me.

If we extend our idea of family beyond the individual to the wider world of creatures and ecosystems, we can begin to ask what we want for them. From them. We can begin to see ourselves in relation. Acknowledging and reckoning with death—with the limit on our existence, with the fact that we are temporary—can reframe what it means to live. What do we want to leave behind? What do we want to support, maintain, in the limited time we are here? Jenn Shapland, Thin Skin (This Nonviolent Life: Daily Inspiration for Your Nonviolent Journey – Pace e Bene Nonviolence Service – quote for April 23, 2024)

…being kin is not so much a given as it is an intentional process. Kinning does not depend on genetic codes. Rather it is cultivated by humans … Gavin Van Horn (from his introduction to the series Kinship: Belonging In A World Of Relations)

Stepping outside early upon rising, I took in the beauty of the full moon. In the stillness of dawn, I felt myself as part of Moon and Moon as part of me, each of us individual yet integral parts of a greater whole. It was a moment of fully, deeply recognizing my kinship, our kinship, with all Life.

Just as I’m present to the beauty and awe in this reality of my oneness with all Life, I’m also aware of how challenged I am to live fully into this reality: to live and walk through the choices I make daily while holding ALL Life as family, as kin.

As I welcome the season’s first hummingbird with wonderment and joy, hanging a feeder out each morning, not so welcome beings come to mind. I think of mouse, mosquito, and fly not as kin, but as pests to be dispensed with.

Awareness of this gap, this contradiction isn’t new to me. I’ve wrestled with it for some time, wondering, ‘What is the way forward when dealing with a mouse skittering across the floorboard of a car borrowed from a friend?’ How willing am I to accept some life as anything but ‘pesky’? To live with mouse as kin and forego pulling out the mouse trap? Today, not very. Sadly, negotiation has not proved fruitful in the past.

So, I act despite knowing this same consciousness plays out in our relationships with one another, from next door neighbor to culture wars around the globe. From bullying in the school yard to accepting the necessity of death and destruction when one people violently attack another, the other responds in kind, and violence escalates. From judgmental, snarky comments on social media to name-calling political attacks and accusations of each ‘side’ against the other, while dismissing those who dare to suggest we engage in a different way - in deep listening to and dialog with one another – as naïve and or/conspiracy theorists.

Many have lost their ability and willingness to embrace all humanity as kin. How will we remember?

My heart knows there are better ways. Our hearts know that the days of violent conflict, whether word or deed, cannot stand for any of our kin. Perhaps it is time to challenge these hearts to remember and to engage in recognizing our kinship with one another and with ALL Life, offering our fearful minds a respite and inviting our hearts’ deep knowing to lead the way.

We can do this. For ourselves. For one another. And for those whose ancestors we are.

Tree Kin in the Woods Out Back

Breaking the Binds of Urgency

Alert without Urgency!

Urgency. We don’t really have that here. Dogon elder, Guimolo Dolo (quoted in Cynthia Jurs’ Summoned by the Earth: Becoming a Holy Vessel for Healing Our World)

My people say, ‘The times are urgent let us slow down.’ Bayo Akomolafe (quoted in Cynthia Jurs’ Summoned by the Earth: Becoming a Holy Vessel for Healing Our World)

Ancient wisdom from another continent.

As Earth Day approaches, war rages, and breaking world systems reveal their weaknesses, we hear increasing calls to act, to contribute, and to ‘do’ more, all with a sense of great urgency. Urgency for what? What if our urgency is part of the problem? What if in our felt sense of urgency we are acting and reacting in the same worn-out ways that perpetuate the problems and keep us on a hamster wheel? Stuck in motion. Moving faster, harder. Not getting the results we want.

These questions rose in me yesterday as I was reminded of a story in Cynthia Jurs profoundly moving book, Summoned by the Earth. I was reminded of the many reflections the book evoked in me a few weeks back. Fodder for future Pivot posts, I thought, especially with Earth Day on the horizon.

This morning, wondering what wanted to be shared, I opened the book. When my eyes landed on the page, I discovered it was just where the story of Jurs experience with the Dogon elder quoted above begins. [Message received. Thank you.]

Urgency. I wondered about the word itself and its origins. And I asked, ‘What might a world without urgency look like, feel like? What might be possible without the angst and outright fear that urgency evokes around almost every issue of our time?’

Looking at the etymology of ‘urge’, I discovered that it is from the Latin urgere – to press hard, push forward, force, drive, compel, stimulate. Ugh! Sounds like the very characteristics of a world of competition, separation, and indeed, war. Further exploration revealed that ‘urge’ may be from a PIE root, urgh – to tie, bind. Hmm … bind … that doesn’t sound like a world of freedom, of sovereignty, of peace.

As I reflected on these origins, I felt a sense of constriction in my body and sensed urgency’s connection to fear. It’s similar to how I feel when I find myself rushing, urgently needing to be ‘on time’ for whatever is on my calendar or to complete a task quickly so I can move to the next.

Habitual, unconscious urgency. An all too familiar pattern that today has a new twist: an awareness that the energy of urgency binds me to these old patterns and habits and to unconscious choices and reactions to circumstances. Urgency limits possibility and minimizes the potential for miracles that emerge from BEing in cooperation and co-creation with Nature, with my natural rhythms, and with the very Source of Life itself.

As Earth Day approaches, I feel curious and inspired to notice when urgency rises and to be at choice in how I respond. I’m curious what miracles may rise in a world without urgency, where we slow down and more deeply connect with Self, with one another, with Source, and are guided from the inside out, not by what we encounter outside of ourselves.

In that curiosity, I leave you with a bit more of Cynthia Jurs wisdom of sacred time and of opening to the possibility, the magic of a more beauty and peace-filled world:

When we go for a slow walk in nature, breathing mindfully with each step and looking up on occasion to notice the blue sky or the clouds gathering; when we suddenly hear the animal calls, the birdsong, or the wind rustling in the trees at the just the right moment; these seem like little miracles signaling the presence of spirit moving between us, inviting us to be aware of something so much larger than ourselves – a relationship of interbeing. These are the moments when an opening to another world is revealed, and if we stop to catch our breath, we may glimpse the light.

The Ziggurat

Delighting the Heart to Create the World Anew

Spring Morning in the Woods Out Back

The mind tends to see things in a singularly simple, divided way: there is good and bad, ugly and beautiful. The imagination, in contrast, extends a greater hospitality to whatever is awkward, paradoxical or contradictory. … The imagination is always more loyal to the deeper unity of everything. It has patience with contradiction because there it glimpses new possibilities. And the imagination is the great friend of possibility. It always sees beyond the facts and situations to the cluster of possibilities in which each thing is shrouded. In a sense, this is what beauty is: possibility that enlarges and delights the heart. John O’Donohue (The Imagination Sees Through a Thing to the Cluster of Possibilities Which Shrouds It - essay in Beauty: The Invisible Embrace)

As Gaia and I attempt to ease more fully into spring, I wake to a quite chilly morning with the temperature well below freezing. The ritual winter morning fire in the wood stove continues for now.

I imagine mornings without the fire, basking in the warmth of the Sun beaming into the ‘summer room’ as I engage in my morning practices. That will come soon.

And with it, plants that winter indoors will be moved to their outdoor summer homes. Hummingbirds will arrive expecting to be fed. Tiny shoots of grass just emerging now will grow and their stems will dance in the wind. Bushes and trees with only specks of green today will burst into their array of verdant hues.

Splitting wood to make kindling will step aside for tending plants and enjoying colorful blooms. Turtlenecks will give way to polos and tees; hoodies and ball caps will replace down coats and wool hats.

Though I love the snuggling in and introspection of winter, imagining what is unfolding and the tasks that accompany this part of the cycle of life and seasons here in the mountains delights this heart. I’m filled with deep gratitude for all the conditions and choices that plopped me in this place almost 16 years ago.

The beauty that delights my heart is a continual source of wonder and curiosity. Nature feeds my soul and nourishes my imagination.

Taking a deep breath imagination shifts beyond me to our world. I imagine a world where I deeply know and live fully into the truth of Oneness. A world beyond the illusions of separation and worn-out structures that force choices and thrive on competition. I imagine a world where love and deep connection – with self, with community, with Mother Earth, and beyond – are our default ways of BEing, of doing, of building. Of Life.

I imagine an evolutionary leap in consciousness that seems prescient, swimming closely to the surface in the ocean of infinite possibilities. This trajectory represents the world that I want for my grandchildren and their progeny. It is the ancestor that I want to be. I feed it not by following the news of what is happening in our broken world, but by observing the beauty around me. By being grateful rather than fearful. And by reading and watching the wise words of those who have gone before and of contemporary, leading age thinkers and doers in cosmology, astrology, economics, agriculture, and more. Here’s a recent and, for me, inspiring, example.

From these I sense we can create our world anew, forming beautiful clusters of possibility that flow from clear minds and open hearts. Let’s feed our imaginations well.  Our future is, after all, up to us.

Raven - Transformation, Shape-shifing, & Creativity on a Post

Spring - Fickle & Not So Fast

Snowy Peaks

There is a lot to love about spring, but … Its erratic nature can be difficult to navigate, the way it booms into being and then retreats again, stopping and starting with great force. The transition from the restful contraction of winter is anything but gentle, and I’ve learned to acutely care for myself in this temperamental time of year. … As spring returns, I always remind myself that just as the plants are unhurried to emerge, I must be as well. Jacqueline Suskin (A Year in Practice: Seasonal Rituals and Prompts to Awaken Cycles of Creative Expression)

I feel this push-pull of the season today as it’s a day on which several activities have converged. More active than usual for a blog day yet fitting after a couple of days of clouds, cold blustery winds, and a dusting of snow, the day dawns clear and promises warming temperatures.

So today I ‘spring’ into action, just a bit. Yet after a relatively mild, dry winter and one with a bit more activity than planned, I’ve felt especially blessed by the thick blanket of snow that fell a few days after the equinox and the cold accompanying it. I easily slipped into the introspection that I love in winter. Quiet, deep, mindful presence.

It’s not quite time to do the final cleaning of the wood stove and store the other accoutrements of winter. Today it’s spring. Tomorrow or the next winter may return. I appreciate Suskin’s reflections on the season and on navigating its challenges for they deepen my awareness of the seesaw nature of this transition.

Despite this day’s activities, I’m not quite ready to ‘spring’ into the action that we so often think of in this season. I want to allow spring to gently emerge in me. To follow Nature’s lead. Observing a few tiny green shoots of grass emerging from the ground on the trail and the tip of an iris leaf rising out of the moist earth. ‘Springing’ into action will come in its time, but not just yet.

Seeded at the Winter Solstice and gestating through the introspection of winter, the soil of soul is warming. Dormant projects, hints and possibilities, plans, new ideas and conversations rest just below the surface, not to be rushed. Everything in its time. Divine perfect time.

For now, letting winter linger suits me. Emergence. I feel her gentle presence … and leave you this day with Jacqueline Suskin’s reflections on just that.

Emergence

By Jacqueline Suskin

All rises from the soil, from seed and darkness.

All aims on high toward newest light.

We follow the extensive reach, expanding from our

hidden realms of quiet contemplation.

All growth is steady, cautious, and willing to wait until

frost is put to rest in the past.

We too must let the ebb and flow guide us

in our becoming, still silent while we can be.

Which blossom will be the first to open?

What color will strike the landscape with its fervent gift?

What is our direction in this revival of brightness?

Fortified with deep roots and nutrients, we ask

the sun to provide us with a path.

Reaching toward its vivid voice with our measured

and beautiful offerings, it gives us its timely kiss.

Suddenly exposed, we are fresh again

in form, revealed to the elements, not quite ripe

but on our way to fruition.

Emergence is from Suskin’s A Year in Practice: Seasonal Rituals and Prompts to Awaken Cycles of Creative Expression and you can find more about her work here.

Good Morning Sunshine!

Soup of Change, Soup of Life

Grateful for the Abundant Spring Snow!

…we are ultimately at choice about how we flavor the soup that life presents us and, indeed, the very ingredients of that soup.

I’m immersed in the soup of change this week. Adjusting to life without the physical presence of Zadie Byrd amidst news of health and housing challenges from friends and the horrors of genocide, hunger, and continuing environmental degradation in the world beyond. The shifting schedule of a friend travelling across the country and a desire to connect, if only for a brief hug and ‘cup o’ joe’.  Snuggling in as a spring storm blesses with a deep blanket of snow.

How will I dance with these? With change? With Life?

On every level it seems this soup that is Life is a soup of change, inviting us to choose ingredients with awareness and care. To focus right where we are, dancing with what is present for us to dance with, choosing our steps with love and care – each of us a ‘cell’ in the greater whole of Life.

An awareness that the passing of a canine companion pales in comparison to the depth of personal and global tragedies rises in me. I set it aside knowing that Life is not about comparison. Comparison is but one of the tools that keeps us separate and leads to othering, to competition, and ultimately to war. A seemingly harmless habit of mind to compare self to another, better than, worse than … an almost endless list.

Surely the heart with its deep knowing of oneness doesn’t engage in this separation game. May my heart lead.

Adjusting to life without Zades’ physical presence. Without Dog. With God. Tears fall into the soup along with a bitter spice or two – a dash of regret that Zadie never experienced the delight of romping with other canines, even though she overcame much of her reactivity to them; a sprinkle of sadness that she didn’t love exploring these woods as much as her human does.

These seasonings bring forth the fullness of flavors, of the soup with its main ingredients: love, joy, peace, satisfaction, freedom, openness; all flowing deep in this heart. A flow created in working with and observing this tenacious, courageous canine as she learned to trust and to open to love. To smile and be happy.

Much like her human, Zadie Byrd’s way was quiet, solo, retreat-like. She simply needed the environment in which to do ‘her work’: calling forth and BEcoming the soul dog within. I didn’t know that of course when I reluctantly said ‘yes’ to bring 10-year-old ‘Sadie’ home from the shelter. But I learned, and she guided me along the sometimes very bumpy way, teaching me patience as she learned to trust and to partner with a human.

Perhaps her greatest teachings are apropos for these chaotic times: Find your peace in the turmoil for this too shall pass. Slow down, pause, sniff, act, rest. Patience.

Amid the turbulent ‘soup’ of these times, personally and collectively, we are ultimately at choice about how we flavor the soup that life presents and, indeed, the very ingredients of that soup. These times call us to bring forth the authentic beings that we are and to add our best ingredients to the soup of change that is the soup of Life: heart-centered love.

May we choose each thought, each word, each act with heart-felt awareness of our role in the greater whole of Life so that each thought, each word, each act supports transforming the soup of darkness into a soup of light.  May I.

Snowy Vista

The Empty Blanket

Rainbow on The Empty Blanket

The Empty Blanket

Your tired, pain-wracked body isn’t here

on the blanket nearby

where you rested in those precious final days,

patiently waiting for what was surely to come.

Stirring from time to time.

Marshalling all the energy you could

to saunter outside

to do your business

and to linger as you looked around and sniffed.

Broken body never lost its sniff.

Back to the blanket. A wee treat. Rest and restlessness.

Comfort and pain.

Mournful eyes speaking your truth –

“I’m ready...”

Ready to leave this body behind.

“I didn’t know I could get so old…”

Ready to be free of pain and so much effort.

“It’s gotten so hard … Will you be okay?

Will you help me?”

Yes. Yes.

A last car ride over the Divide and through the canyon,

new life, calves springing forth in mostly barren pastures along the way.

Destination reached. All in divine order

just as you said it would be in your wise knowing.

A gentle walk about the moist, soft ground

To sniff the crisp mountain air … and

What!? What’s that?

Oh my, sweet hay and equine poop. Heavenly.

A nuzzle of your vet’s knee before we go inside

to settle in the Quiet Room on the ducky blanket.

Preparing to receive.

What!?

A cookie. A penguin cookie. A sweet human cookie.

“Oh, doc, how could I ever doubt that you are my friend?”

Munch. Yum. Ahh …

Let me lick the floor clean …

Tender time.

Before taking flight across the Rainbow Bridge.

In a hot air balloon, I imagine.

Home in the great mystery beyond.

Home where the blanket is empty except for the rainbows dancing on the rug this sunny morning.

Home Sweet Home on whatever plane we inhabit.

Without a Doubt Life is Good Whatever Plane WE Experience It On …

How It Is As Spring Arrives

Zadie Byrd’s Antler Find

Within the grip of winter, it is almost impossible to imagine the spring. The gray perished landscape is shorn of color. Only bleakness meets the eye; everything seems severe and edged. Winter is the oldest season; it has some quality of the absolute. Yet beneath the surface of winter, the miracle of spring is already in preparation; the cold is relenting; seeds are wakening up. Colors are beginning to imagine how they will return. Then, imperceptibly, somewhere one bud opens and the symphony of renewal is no longer reversible. From the black heart of winter a miraculous, breathing plenitude of color emerges.

The beauty of nature insists on taking its time. Everything is prepared. Nothing is rushed. The rhythm of emergence is a gradual slow beat always inching its way forward; change remains faithful to itself until the new unfolds in the full confidence of true arrival. Because nothing is abrupt, the beginning of spring nearly always catches us unawares. It is there before we see it; and then we can look nowhere without seeing it. John O'Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings

This first full day of Spring after yesterday’s equinox, finds my heart a bit heavy. A different sort of Spring beginning for me and for Zadie Byrd. Yesterday she crossed the rainbow bridge. Life anew without the bounds of a physical body for her. Waking to quiet, an empty blanket by the wood stove. Freedom. A different flavor for each of us.

This, a day of reflection, of gratitude, of tears I’ll simply share a favorite Mary Oliver Poem about our beloved canine companions, knowing there is no ‘us’ and ‘them’ in this soup we call life and that we are mere cells of Gaia’s greater whole. We are all different. We are all the same.

How It Is With Us, and

How It Is With Them

               by Mary Oliver

We become religious,

then we turn from it,

then we are in need and maybe we turn back.

We turn to making money,

then we turn to the moral life,

then we think about money again.

We meet wonderful people, but lose them

in our busyness.

We’re, as the saying goes, all over the place.

Steadfastness, it seems,

is more about dogs than about us.

One of the reasons we like them so much.

In loving memory of and deep gratitude for Sadie/Zadie Byrd/Zades/’Punkin Soup’ – 6 December 2009 – 19 March 2024. Steadfast with a streak of stubborn. Courageous. Teacher. Learner. Partner. Soul friend. And more. With me from 14 January 2020 – 19 March 2024 and furever in my heart with forever love and gratitude.

New Cap on an Empty Blanket

Drops in the River of Life

Alone, we are each just a drop in the river. But together? Together we make the River Dragon rise. From Rivera Sun’s forthcoming Book 5 of the Ari Ara Series – River Dragon (read the first chapter here)

I’m reminded this blog morning that every thought we think, every word we speak, every action we take, and, yes, every meme we post on social media contributes to the collective, to the river that is life.

A couple weeks back my friend, author and activist Rivera Sun, and I decided to engage in an experiment to see “the humanity behind the headlines” and to report our experiences to one another the following week.

An episode around Zadie Byrd’s health shortly after our conversation took my attention in another direction. I forgot about our experiment and my commitment to engage.

Fortunately, my young friend, for years a practitioner of non-violence, did not. When she shared her experience with me a week later, I was reminded not only of the agreement I’d forgotten, but also of the power of perspective, of the lens through which we view and act the world.

She shared that she engaged by “thinking things like Oh, my brother, how could you make this decision? It must weigh on your heart and soul. Or, what hurt you so long ago that makes you close your heart today?

For me these are powerful, thoughtful questions recognizing that we are One, each an individual cell of a greater whole. Each a drop in the river of life. What if we could ask such questions with one another? And, then, we listened?

Rivera also shared that “my observation is that this practice cut through a lot of feelings of fear and disempowerment for me. It opened up a tenderness for myself and for the people behind the news report. It didn't excuse their behavior in my mind. It did keep me from thinking of them as monsters (which is scary) and rather as human beings with problems (which is probably true).”

Such a simple pivot – from disdain and fear to compassion and love. Simple. And not easy in our fractured world.

Looking at how the experiment impacted her, Rivera says “I also think it helped me not get exhausted by the news. I felt an upswell in my own humanity and in my sense of empowerment and insight. The biggest change was in how I felt about myself. I felt stronger, more clear in my mind, and like I was a deeper person.”

Our perspectives are important to us individually and collectively for they create the world we inhabit. Sadly, our thoughts, words, and acts of discord, of division, of fear help sustain the very things we want to change. As I’ve said many times before it is up to us to create the shift in consciousness humanity so desperately needs.

I don’t know about you, but I still have work to do to get to the place of fully seeing the humanity behind choices to kill, to pillage our planet, efforts to divide, hate-filled speech and acts of violence. And, at the same time, to not excuse the behavior.

So, I’m taking on the experiment. In this year of the Wood Dragon, let’s clean up the pollution in humanity’s river of life and make the River Dragon rise!

P.S. Beyond our friendship and being a beta-reader in support of Rivera’s work, I’m especially excited about Book 5 and my reason will be revealed 😉 in its time …

From Grumbling & Grievance to Miracles & Love

A Deer Friend Visits the Woods Out Back

Love holds no grievances. … To hold a grievance is to forget who you are. A Course in Miracles

You cannot have both a grievance and a miracle. You must choose … Marianne Williamson (interview on Next Level Soul )

As winter wanes and spring is fast approaching, a snowstorm is brewing with the potential to bring much needed moisture. Some will grumble. I say, ‘bring it on!’.

If I’m to grumble let it be about matters of deeper concern. Matters of home and hearth that I may find problematic. Matters of divisiveness, a world at war, and our clinging to violence as a solution to most any problem. When? How will we stop seeing ‘enemy’ in all that we dislike and fear? When will I?

When will we find it in ourselves to let go of our righteousness and forgive those we blame for all that we deem wrong in the world? When will we come to our senses and see the senselessness of our approach? When will I?

The questions come in the wake of hearing this idea that grievances cancel out miracles. It stirred an already simmering pot of delicious and deep reflections, some of which I’ve shared here recently. It brought me to a new level of awareness of the impact of my engagement in any grumbling no matter how minor it seems. In my grumbling and the underlying grievance that I hold, I block miracles. I don’t know about you, but I think some miracles would be pretty darn welcome in our world about now.

I saw clearly how my lack of love in any situation stands in the way of the peace my heart desires and knows is possible.

Wafting out of the simmering pot of reflections came the challenge to identify grievances that I hold and to forgive, to put love in the place of each and every one. Am I willing to do the work of bringing this light to those around whom I hold a grievance?

Am I willing to do the work so that I can behold the miracles that patiently await my action? Miracles not just in the microcosm of my life, but miracles in the greater whole of all Life. Miracles in and of community and country, in and of planet and cosmos.

What or who might I forgive today to allow a miracle somewhere tomorrow or in what is divine perfect time?

Snow on the Way???

Will We Leap?

Sacred Places - Blanca Peak and the Ziggurat

When fear is used to control us, love is how we rebel! Zadie Byrd Gray (fictional character in The Dandelion Insurrection by Rivera Sun)

We CAN leap forward into new ways of being, higher frequencies, and levels of consciousness. We CAN leap to love! Will we?

On this early morning before ‘Leap Day’, sitting quietly by the fire early and breathing deeply with attention on my heart, I returned to a practice that I’d first done many years ago. Breathe in Love; Breathe out Gratitude. Or was it Breathe in Gratitude; Breathe out Love? In and out, love and gratitude, gratitude and love intertwined in the dance of life. Leaping to love, step by step.

Over many years the practice has deepened my trust and expanded my capacity to accept the abundant unknowns and uncertainties in life. It was particularly useful when I found myself in financial stress, not knowing how I’d pay the rent coming due all too soon. A guide to remembering my true Source in this infinitely abundant universe. A pivot from angst and fear to love. A leap in my life.

And it’s useful today as I become present to the deep concern and, yes even fear, that I carry about the future. The future of this country that is my home. The future of our world. The future of humanity. As old systems falter and fail under the weight of the outmoded paradigm of separation, will we leap to co-create new systems founded and grounded in the truth of the Oneness of all life? Will we leap to respect All Life? Or will we try to remodel and remain in the darkness, fear, and competition that inhabit the house of separation and scarcity?

A favorite quote from Rivera Sun’s prescient novel, The Dandelion Insurrection, came to mind. When fear is used to control us, love is how we rebel.

The messages of fear projected by those who claim to be leaders are all too abundant, drowning out the abundant acts of love and care that are part and parcel of everyday life. Our care for family, friends, and beloved animal companions. Our connections with Nature, listening and responding to the voice of Gaia. Respecting, loving, and caring for her. Our coming together in community to co-create desired futures. Our laughter and sincere smiles. Our giving with no expectation of return. Our deep listening to one another, including those with whom we disagree.

These and so many, many more are leaps of love, acts of rebellion to counter the fear that divides us. Small steps on the trail to a big leap that I have no doubt we can make to create a world that works for All Life. We CAN leap forward into new ways of being, higher frequencies, and levels of consciousness. We CAN leap to love!

Will we?

A Visit from Coyote