Resistance Revisited

Mama and youngster grazing in the morning

What you resist not only persists but will grow in size. Carl Jung

This blog day finds me in deep reflection about the state of our world, the untruths of separation on which world systems are built, and the consequences that seem to be growing exponentially 24/7. I’m challenged to write as thoughts, emotions, dreams, sadness, and love are swirling about in a soup of possibility that yet needs to simmer.

And yet, one of many ingredients in the soup of my week rises to be shared: a short video that has me relating to resistance in a new way, a way that today has few words, so I share it with you to add to the soup of your life and to invite you to join me in exploring where you find yourself resisting. Are you resisting change that will allow the butterfly within to emerge and take flight? Are you resisting the new world whose cells are growing daily?

Click here to watch! And enjoy!

Greening UP!

Spring Into the New!

Season’s First Wildflowers

The mystery and magic of being an individual is to live life in response to the deep call within, the call to become who we were dreamed to be. … Freedom … is the poise of the soul at one with a life which honours and engages its creative possibility. John O’Donohue (Beauty: The Invisible Embrace)

Signs of spring abound here in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains at 8,000+ feet. Verdant leaves bursting with life, blades of wild grasses, pinecones beginning to form, early blooming wildflowers on the roads and trails I walk. Vibrant iris in my garden.

Present to this beauty and freshness, I’m reminded that each are becoming that which they were dreamed to be. That is the way of Nature. And Nature is us. Muse is active in my morning journaling as questions rise. What seeds of who you were dreamed to be are longing to be nourished and called forth? What seeds are yours to tend in creating our world anew?

I’ve been sitting with this and similar questions as I gently move with the winter to spring seasonal change here in the northern hemisphere.

I ask, ‘where is the new arising?’ I want to be there where seeds of a new world are sprouting. I want to discover what seeds are mine to nurture, to tend? I want to hear the whispers of freshness. I wonder who is calling forth that which is aligned with my heart, the ways of Nature, the cosmos?

Our planet home, Gaia, speaks volumes through all Her beings. She speaks gently in the meandering flow of streams and leaves rustling in spring breezes. As if to wake us up, she roars. Quaking, exploding, flooding, drying out. Listen! Air, fire, water, earth elements all preparing – perhaps prepared – to leap into their fullness, their wholeness when WE know and acknowledge that we are all One with them. One with all Life. Cells in the body of Life. Fractals in the greater whole of infinite beingness.

Material and not. Seen and unseen. Living, breathing Life is everywhere awaiting, cheering on our waking up, our remembering that which is real. That which gives Life. That which enhances Life. Life!

I’m recognizing a deep pull, magnetism to move with and toward what is rising. Honoring what is new in me. Discovering what is emergent in the world, ripe with creative potential for engagement. At the same time, I’m drawn to participate in the old, tired political system to re-elect a county commissioner who cares deeply about and works tirelessly for protecting our area’s water and to encourage local, organic, regenerative agriculture. Feed the people. Build the soil. Although these are the very elements that I see rising and want to nurture, I notice that the tasks to be done in a campaign are of the mind more than the heart.

Feeling pulled to choose one or the other, I’m gently reminded of ‘both/and’ and I wonder how I can honor participating in both to create synergy and support between the two? How can I bring heart to the old for the sake of nurturing the new? What is possible when I acknowledge that my heart longs to witness humanity rising as we remember who we are and to step into the creative possibilities of that? One by one. Step by step. Springing, ever gently, into the new!

Forever Changed

Morning Light, Morning Beauty

I woke feeling forever changed in some way that has no words (yet)…

Yesterday I wrote these words in a quick note to few close friends and associates with a link to an interview with Dr. Zach Bush that I’d watched the night before, representing how I felt after the experience of watching.

The interview was profound and, for me, deeply moving in ways that I suspect will continue to reveal themselves for some time to come. I experienced it as raw, vulnerable (and I feel a bit vulnerable in sharing), honest, sincere, moving, and much more. A snapshot of one chapter of Bush’s journey to the Divine, weaving his experience as a medical doctor to our innate purity at birth and at death. He invites us not only to witness the beauty and perfection of Nature, but to remember that we are fractals of a Divine perfect whole.

It isn’t a video that I thought I’d be sharing here in The Pivot, but that changed as I began thinking about this week’s post. As I often do on ‘blog eve’, I pulled an inspirational book from the shelf, curious to see what my eyes would land on and how it might guide or weave into the week’s post. Opening David Whyte: Essentials to a random page, I was gifted with his poem, A Seeming Stillness, and these words in the last stanzas:

Breathe then, as if breathing for the first time,

as if remembering with what difficulty

you came into the world, what strength it took

to make that first impossible in-breath,

into a cry to be heard by the world.

Your essence has always been that first vulnerability

of being found, of being heard and of being seen,

and from the very beginning

the one who has always needed,

and been given, so much invisible help.

This is how you were when you first came

into this world, this is how you were

when you took your first breath in that world,

this is how you are now,

all unawares, in your new body and your new life,

this is the raw vulnerability of your every day,

and this is how you will want to be,

and be remembered, when you leave the world.

So very affirming of how I heard Bush’s interview, Whyte’s words seemed to say, ‘Share this!’.

I don’t share it lightly. It isn’t short and sweet. It’s long (almost two hours in the two parts) and tender, an invitation to gift yourself with a deep dive that may support you as you navigate the change and chaos all around. While it isn’t about politics, relationships, or the economy, et cetera, Bush weaves our part in all of these into his story. And, you may find, as I did, ‘his’ story is indeed our story. A story of who we are, and the vast potential of the purity that is seeded within. For those willing, here’s the link to Part 1.

Our world, indeed, the cosmos, is moving and changing fast as are we individually and collectively. Staying present to that with wonder and curiosity is one of my antidotes to the chaos of the mainstream, dancing with being ‘informed’ and recognizing that we are in a state of forming anew each and every day.

A Magical Tree Called ‘Merlin’

Heaven on Earth

Young Big Horn Sheep - Rio Grande National Monument - Keynote: Seeking new beginnings.

This blog morning emerges as one to be brief in words as I emerge from four days immersed in friendship, celebration, exploration, and adventure in the beauty of the high mountains of Northern New Mexico.

I walked through many doorways – inside and out – on this shared journey with friends, my first away from home travel in almost four years.

No doubt much will emerge from the adventures of this journey, a reminder that we each have the potential to create ‘heaven on Earth’ wherever we are by our level of consciousness, the frequency we bring to the experience, and the clarity of our intention and vision.

Seeds planted in the conversations and our individual reflections of this Heavenly Retreat will emerge in many ways and forms I reflect on the experiences and consider questions such as ‘What is the message of the baby Big Horn sheep who posed on the rim of the Rio Grande River Canyon with it’s keynote, seeking new beginnings, and the Ram is the mascot of my zodiac sign?’ So today I simply want to share a few images of encounters offered up by Mother Earth and her blessed creations that will guide my reflections.

What about you? What represents Heaven on Earth to you? How does this guide you in life’s choices each day?

Wild Turkeys of Heavenly Retreat - Keynote: Shared Blessings and Harvest

Confluence of the Red and Rio Grande Rivers - What streams in my life want to merge?

Magical, Mystical Leaning Pine - What other wisdom does she have to impart?

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 …