Pivoting Into Autumn

Our Ancestors

The wise leader solves the problem of water first. Lao Tzu

The question before us, then, is not only how we will mobilize to redress the immediate harm done by the current militarism and violence. The question is also how we will plant the seeds of a peaceable economy. There is no more fundamental place to start than with how we grow food, how we feed ourselves and one another, how we relate to and care for the land. Woody Tasch – A Call to Farms

You’ll learn how to be a good ancestor. The answer is in the land, in the mountains, which are the sources of life. Dr. John Hausdoerffer

Tomorrow, September 21 is the International Day of Peace and day 1 of Campaign Nonviolence 12 Action Days (check it out here). I think of this as I reflect on the threads woven into this week past, threads that carry forward from last week’s post about living into a desired future (find it here).

Last week we were approaching a new moon, a time to set and renew intentions. In the wake of that new moon, I experienced two long-held intentions stepping forward with opportunities for attention and action.

The opportunities rose perfectly timed to redirect me from stepping into a commitment of time and energy that was interesting, but around which I felt little excitement or passion, and which, in hindsight, was only minimally aligned with my values.

Food and water. Now we’re talking passion and alignment. Both water and food are ingredients for building a culture of peace. They go hand in hand as elements of Nature that our culture all too often views as resources to be tapped.

The desired future that I want my daily choices to create includes sustainable, just, and accessible to all food systems, along with clean, pure water that sustains ALL Life. I believe that future will rise as we repair and restore our relationship with Nature, as we listen to that which sources Life and align our choices with our planet home.

Ancestry is a related thread in the fabric of life this week, inspired by Dr. John Hausdoerffer in his webinar, Kinship with Mountains, (enjoy it here). If you’ve been with me for a while, the title alone clues you into why I was drawn to the event. Hausdoerffer speaks beautifully, questioning how Life could look when we “recognize Earth as our kin and Mountains as our ancestors.” I wonder, as does Hausdoerffer in his forthcoming book, What Kind of Ancestor Do I Want to Be?

Are my choices aligned with that? What pivots are indicated?

As summer gives way to fall here in the northern hemisphere and we approach the autumnal equinox with equal hours of daylight and darkness, I feel myself musing these heady questions from a deep, heart-centered place. What do I value and what actions align with that? As my priorities shift what old habits, beliefs, ways need to fall away?

It seems a different pattern to be in these questions in the season of harvest. Perhaps my harvest of opportunities this week is nourishment for navigating what lies ahead and the questions are integral to receiving that nourishment. Perhaps they will linger and be the focus of winter morning musings by the fire.

Perhaps I’m experiencing the speeding up of time in a changing world, on a changing planet. Perhaps I feel an age-related urgency.

I pause to observe Zadie Bryd licking her paws, then rubbing her face, as she lays nearby. I wonder what she’s experiencing in her body and whether there’s something I need to know or to do to support her.

The observation and questioning in that pause brings clarity that, no matter the project or priority, my prayer is that I step into the flow of Life with heart-felt love and care, being the kind of ancestor that will leave this world a better place.

Our Kin

From Insisting to Inviting

Full, Super, Blue Moonset

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field. I'll meet you there. Rumi

The morning after last week’s full, super, blue moon dawned beautifully. Clear sky; still, crisp air. Moon hanging in the western sky on its way to meet the horizon. I headed out for a long, solo walk before Zadie Byrd woke.

Returning home, she was awake, curious as to the whereabouts of her human, and ready to go out for ‘her’ morning walk. I was ready for canine company and wanted to watch Moon meet the western horizon. With Zadie harnessed up we headed down the road in that direction at her slow, morning- sniffing pace. A short distance down the road, sniffing needs satisfied and morning ‘business’ complete, she stopped, stiffened her body and looked at me with her ‘I’m done. Let’s go home’ eyes.

Not knowing whether she’s in pain or perhaps sensing danger ahead, when this occurs I generally follow Zadie’s lead. Sometimes though I insist, sternly saying ‘we’re going this way’ or gently pulling her leash, cajoling with treats and a silly running game to test her movement and energy.

This day, catching myself before I began to insist, I paused. I looked at the moon and took a deep breath. What would forcing accomplish given the peace I felt from walking under this stunning moon? Was I willing to pay the price of the deep peace I was feeling to have my way?

No.

I engaged in a different approach. Dropping the leash, I continued walking several steps and invited ‘Zades’ to ‘come’ join me.

At first, she seemed a bit perplexed being beyond the length of the leash from me. Then she came looking somewhat curious. ‘What is my human up to now?’ she was perhaps wondering. As she caught on, supported by tasty rewards and lots of praise, we sauntered to the end of our road, overlooking the vast valley and San Juan mountains and I watched as the horizon at long last greeted the moon, Zadie Byrd happily sniffing nearby. We were both satisfied, and it was time to return home.

Reflecting on the experience later, I was present to the open heartedness of a genuine invitation and how my heart tightens when I insist.

Insisting holds little, if any, difference than demanding and forcing, acts that have no regard for another. They leave no room for choice, and when I engage in that way, leave me feeling heavy and glum. Insisting is an act of mind, not heart; of ego, not spirit; of force, not power.

Inviting, engaging another being in the process and offering choice, is an act of the heart. It reflects an inner power that has no need to force others. Inviting is an act of spirit.

Once again, canine companion Zadie Byrd carries the mantle of wise teacher, offering up opportunities for me to pause, to pivot, to learn, to grow. Inviting me to the field where she lives.

Zadie Byrd’s Off Leash Experience Continues

Morning Musing on the Deck

Morning in the Woods

The opposite of love is not rage. The opposite of love is indifference. Love engages all our emotions: Joy is the gift of love. Grief is the price of love. Anger is the force that protects that which is loved. We cannot access the depth of loving ourselves or others without our rage. Valarie Kaur (daily quote 5-17-23 in Pace e Bene Nonviolence Service This Nonviolent Life: Daily Inspiration for Your Nonviolent Journey)

Out on the deck! Sun beaming on my face. Cottonwood Creek offering background music with beautiful sounds of flow from the snow melt. Deer nearby. They scattered when I came out. Hummers joyful that the feeder is replenished. Zadie Byrd, content after breakfast, rests as she watches over these woods, ears UP. Stillness this blue-sky morning as the sun rises higher over the peaks.

Thus begins a blessed morning, a blessed day, in this blessed life. How do I express the depth of my gratitude for this, THIS? I wonder, ‘is a simple thank you, felt deeply in the heart, enough?’ For truly this morn, this moment my heart feels it. Appreciation for life, this life, this place, this being that I am radiates in every cell of my body. I am that. I am.

More gratitude for my health as last week’s cold symptoms wane, a lingering cough yet to clear (but moving in that direction!). Gratitude for the health that is this body, this spirit, and its movement to clear and release that which needs to be cleared and released. How we miss this subtle, yet obvious, miracle of LIFE working its magic. 24/7, 365 life is always ‘on’ no matter the calendar or the clock. All Ways! May we go beyond the world’s training of our rational minds so that we can know this, experience this. May I.

I pause to listen to an unfamiliar sound. Animal-like, but not familiar and hard to describe. Not a ‘moo’ or a ‘meow’. Soft, slow, short. Two deer walk up near the Circle of Elders, the sound moves with them. It is them or one of them. I have never heard a deer before. Life’s magic is given voice in this moment.

Before the pause, I was about to write about anger, posing the question ‘how does one feel anger from this place, this gratitude?’ I rarely feel angry and yet I know it has a presence in my life at some layer or level. It sometimes pops out obscuring the love, the care, the curiosity, the true being that I am and want to express in the world, with self, with others, with Zadie Byrd, with all of life. There is little, if anything, to be angry about in my life, about my life, even with its curveballs and setbacks.

As I’ve reflected this week, I’ve come to see that what truly rises my ire is the systems that are unjust, unfair, damaging to people and the planet and have many people trapped in their webs of greed. Perhaps too I am angry with myself for missed opportunities to speak out, do more. Where might I be a greater contribution? What is mine to do? I wonder.

I put the pen down and enjoy for a few more moments of the sun’s warmth, the creek’s song, and the beauty of the woods outback. As I open the computer, the quote above greets me with a new light on anger. The magic of life unfolding!

Cottonwood Creek

Pivot to Wonderment

Fuzzy Mountain Moonrise

Wonder enlarges the heart. When you wonder, you are drawn out of yourself. The cage of the ego and the railtracks of purpose no longer hold you prisoner. Wonder creates a lyrical space where thought and feeling take leave of their repetitive patterns, to regain their original impulse of reverence before the mystery of what is. John O’Donohue (Wonder Awakens Us to the Magic of the World – essay in Eternal Echoes: Exploring Our Hunger to Belong).

Oh, what deep appreciation I have for the places O’Donohue explores, allowing us to join him through the legacy of his poetic, heart-felt words. Wonderment, that comforting (for me) state of awed admiration and respect, is what spending time with the writings of this man of the soul evokes. I’m reminded always to be present to whatever is in front of me. And, to wonder.

Wonderment seems to follow wonder. Not in a logical, sequential way, but rather as a doorway. Without wondering, without engaging my curious self, whether I’m looking out at the world or journeying within, the absence of wonder separates me from the sheer joy of wonderment, of life.

I’m reminded of yesterday’s conversation with a friend as we drove past a herd of yak on the Chok-u-rei Ranch here in the valley. My friend observes that some of these magnificent creatures stand close to one another as they graze. She wonders ‘what do they talk about in their closeness?’ I scan the herd looking for the youngsters and wonder at their playful romping, chasing one another before returning to their munching.

It is wonder that gifts us with the presence to notice the herd on this route we’ve each travelled hundreds of times over the years. The regenerative soil practicing ranch spans the only road from our community to the main highway, a 12-mile road through the flat valley floor that without a sense of wonder could be (and admittedly sometimes is) a blur.

Coming back from our journey we drive toward the mountains and quietly share our wonder at how their appearance shifts with various angles of light. Soon the moon, just past its fullness and being eclipsed by Mother Earth, will rise over the Sangres, offering another spectacle inviting wonderment of this place.

The wind blows strong and steady as I write this morning. I turn my wonder within as I aim to remember to do when weather is not to my liking. How might I embrace the wind as an element of the greater winds of change blowing all around in this cycle of time? Surely this element of air and its time of rapid movement has purpose in the ebb and flow of life. What might it be blowing out? What is the wind ushering in?

This seemingly simple flow of words eases the dread I was beginning to feel about the morning walk with Zadie Byrd. Embracing wind for what it is – a necessary element of Nature, unseen yet powerful – eases my need to ‘brace’ for stepping outside.

Muse nods with a smile, acknowledging my pivot, shifting from my early morning look at election returns to see if the unexpectedly tight race in my Congressional district has been called (it hasn’t – hope springs eternal!) to turning within to discover what wants to be shared in this weekly sacred space.

It occurs to me on this morning after midterm elections here in the U.S. that pivoting to wonderment offers a pathway for bridging the vast gaps that divide us. How might we shift from disdain, disagreement, ‘my way is the only way’ thinking and ways of being to genuine, heart-felt wonder about one another? How might we see that indeed there is no ‘other’, just the One. How might I?

I’m grateful for those engaged in the political, policy, and governance realms who are working towards bridging these divides. I’m grateful too for the wonder and beauty of Nature that surrounds and informs me in Her way. As the winds grow stronger this day, I’m reminded that wonderment is a path to embracing all of life even, perhaps especially, the wind.

Cottonwood Creek - Leaves Fallen, Ice to Come

Reminiscing As Year 10 Begins

Morning Clouds Bring Beauty & the Possibility of Blessed Rain

Speak what you think today in hard words, and tomorrow speak what tomorrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every thing you said today.  Ralph Waldo Emerson

So began The Success Zone 15 August 2013. I described my intention for weekly posts as “an eclectic place for your personal success!”. I don’t recall precisely what prompted me to use these particular words from Emerson, but I do know that they hold true for me today: what I think (feel, sense, know, etc.) and say today may not be what I think (feel, sense, know, etc.) and say tomorrow.

For indeed we change as does the world we navigate, those humans with whom we share our planet home, Gaia herself, and the cosmos in its entirety. Moment to moment. Day to day. Year to year. Lifetime to lifetime.

When I started the weekly blog, I was steeped in the growing profession of coaching, (re)building a coaching business and finding/creating my place, my purpose, my role(s) in life. Today, no longer in the business of coaching, I aim to bring the best of my coaching presence and skills into life and (with support from Muse) to these weekly musings. Today I recognize and accept more deeply that finding/creating place, purpose, role(s) in life is a journey, not a goal or a destination and that success is a matter of satisfaction, contribution, and fulfillment more than of money or acquiring more ‘stuff’.

Place, purpose, role(s) pivot with new circumstances, new knowledge, and insights. Awareness, agility, and adaptability are skills to strengthen. New thinking that leads us to personal and collective pivots is the order of the day (and, likely, for many tomorrows).

Who among has not made significant pivots in the last nine years? Who among us has not rethought and pivoted again as life conditions change and as heart and soul tap our being and point us to new possibilities or a new way? Who among us is the same today as we were then (or, heck, even yesterday)?

Certainly not moi. In the early days of the pandemic, The Zone pivoted to become The Pivot (120 weeks ago – if you be counting). A change in name and focus had been bubbling in me for some time. Clarity came as I saw the need to make changes in my own thinking, my beliefs, my habits and as I witnessed the Earth’s responses to our collective global pause. For me it was the beginning of reexamining EVERYthing, of exploring wider avenues of thought and possibility, and of seeking out those people, places, and pockets that are building the new, a process that’s likely to happily engage me for the duration of this lifetime.

In sharing my engagement, discoveries, and curiosities I aim to offer introspection, inspiration, insights, intelligence, and information for your journey of discovering and navigating your own pivot points. As Muse reminds, surely much change is afoot. Perhaps some wisdom will emerge along the way.

As it was in the beginning, The Pivot will continue to be eclectic. My curiosity runs both wide and deep. And one belief that isn’t likely to shift is that ‘one size does NOT fit all’. Likewise, The Pivot continues to support individually and collectively reclaiming personal power as a right and a responsibility and seeks to challenge your thinking and mine.

As it always has been, there is rarely an ‘editorial plan or calendar’ for what will come. The Pivot emerges weekly in response to the promptings – internal and external – of life and to (mostly) gentle nudging from Muse.

I (WE! – suggests Muse) aim to bring more beauty to light and life. Beauty not just of the visual sort, although certainly I’m steeped in the natural beauty of place (and not likely to pivot away from sharing that), but beauty of the heart, the soul, the spirt of life. Beauty that is of sight, sound, and all our senses. Perhaps beauty that is beyond our senses, yet ever present when we are open to receive.

A deep bow of gratitude to you for being with us on the journey and some beautiful words to remember as we engage in the days ahead.

Being here is so much. Rainer Maria Rilke

The human mind is in itself a world with huge mountains, deep valleys, and forests of the unknown. John O’Donohue

Morning Moonset over the San Luis Valley

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 …

Invite All of Life In

Sunlight on the New Blanket of Snow

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Please call me by my true names,

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

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

Please call me by my true names,

so I can wake up,

and so the door of my heart

can be left open,

the door of compassion.

(listen and read it here)

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

Beauty Before the Snowfall

Alive in the Flow of Life

Good Morning Sun & Moon!

Blow, and you can extinguish a fire. Blow, and you can make a fire. Zen koan found at https://marenschmidt.com/

The idea of paradox has the Muse and me engaged this morning. And as I read the above Zen koan again, I sense what’s underneath each truthful ‘blow’: intention.

Decades ago when I was a college student, a friend nicknamed me her ‘Pet Paradox’. I don’t recall if she ever told me what inspired the moniker, but even in my college year, or perhaps earlier, I could see both sides of most any issue. Sometimes that breed confusion. Other times, clarity. Mostly it led to eventually choosing sides.

Throughout most of my adult life, I’ve expressed a felt sense that ‘holding paradox’ would become an increasingly important life skill. A quick google search offers a treasure trove of ideas, tools, and other musings that I found inspiring to explore.

In a world that seeks to divide in oh so many ways, seeing the whole, singing songs of ‘both and’ as we set aside ‘either or’, and dancing the dances of many rather than choosing sides holds the potential bring into our practice of daily life that which we know deep in our being: WE ARE ONE.

We are interconnected and interdependent with ALL the Beings of Nature, including humanity – those humans whom we love and those whose choices we loath. This is our emerging story as scientific discoveries continue to refute the ideas of separation on which so much of our cultural infrastructure and systems are built. As these discoveries see the light of day beyond the so-called mainstream today’s systems will become less and less relevant. And the creation and emergence of new structures and systems accelerates. This is where the juice, the aliveness of the flow of life, invites us to join and to play.

This is the story of ancients and Indigenous peoples whose aliveness in the flow of life recognized the truth of the unity of all things. Will it be a story that we nurture and grow into realizing the possibility of harmony? Harmony among all peoples. Harmony with Nature, the Earth that provides all that we need.

Each morning as I’ve read the Haudenosaunee Thanksgiving Address, Greetings to the Natural World, I feel the potency of recognizing this truth. I deeply feel the intention of these words to give thanks to all that we hold in common – our humanity, Mother Earth, the waters, the plants, the animals, Brother Sun, Grandmother Moon, all that gives us life – and to declaring Oneness as they speak “Now our minds are one.”

I dream of what is possible for a world operating from this place. I marvel at the plethora of actions locally and globally that are creating the scaffolding of a new world. I wonder what magic and miracles will come forth. As I dream, I deepen my gratitude. As I deepen my gratitude, I feel the aliveness of life calling me forth to sing and dance and play from this place. And, I pray that all of our children may sing and dance and play with me.

May we extinguish the fires of destruction and kindle the fires that make the way for new, harmonious growth.

Sunset on Another Alive Day!

Pivot to Slowing Down

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunset - Clouds in the Eastern Sky

Making Sense Today

Morning Clouds

Wayfarer,
Now is no time to sit still
For nothing but a great clamor of joy
And music
Can make any sense
Today! --- Hafiz (from When the Sun Conceived a Man)

I ignored my first impulse as I sat down in the quiet of the dawning morning: to pull The Gift: Poems by Hafiz, The Great Sufi Master off the nearby shelf. Instead, I was mesmerized by the mountains and the sky, the softness of clouds, ‘bellies’ pink in the sun’s first light, contrasting the hard edges of Crestone Peak.

Although I look to the mountains and the coming light each morning, this morning and the two preceding it invited me to pause and look deeply: to notice what is different and to observe what seems the same. Today, clouds brought softness to the fore, muting the hard, jagged edges of the mountain peaks.

As I opened my journal, I felt the softness and allowed it to flow in and through me as I wondered ‘what wants to be said by the muse and me today?’

Several events and observations of the week came to mind. A thought about how ‘misinformation’ is what many have come to label that which doesn’t support whatever narrative they are promoting. I confess that I frequently find helpful information in some of the so-called ‘misinformation’. Especially information dealing with edgy topics such as my health or the existence of UFOs.

Even with my very limited exposure to ‘the news’ I feel pressure from the collective to make choices around my health and well-being that my heart informs me are not in my best interest or even in the best interest of the collective that aims to convince me ‘it’ knows better. Mother Earth is speaking. Listen.

This week I experienced a close encounter with a flash flood in our neighborhood. Thankfully, no major damage to persons or buildings, but morning’s light revealed the level that flowing water, mud and debris reached in the dark of night. A walk around the neighborhood revealed roads with deep ruts and a favorite serene spot by Cottonwood Creek torn asunder. Mother Earth is speaking. Listen.

Next week the installation of a solar array on my roof begins. It’s but one answer to my ongoing question: How do I adapt and align with nature rather than trying to overcome or subvert her?

This week marks the end of my 13th year here in the sacred Sangre de Cristo mountains and the community of Crestone/Baca Grande. I’m blessed with sharing an abundance of fresh produce from a friend’s growing dome. It’s a ‘good basil year’ and pesto making is in full swing!

The week also found me unable to honor a promise made two years ago. I aim to make promises with care and sincerity. Breaking a promise is a matter of integrity. I wonder how this will inform me in making future promises.

Synchronicities have also been present this week. Think of someone/something. Boom, the phone rings, a text or email arrives about ‘that’ from ‘them’. Such events call forth an awareness of resonance and what nourishes life.

As I look back at the week’s unfolding, I wonder: what are the common threads that weave in this week’s experiences? What does the muse wish to share? What sense can be made of the week? Of the world? I pause.

Returning from my morning walk with Zadie Byrd, Hafiz calls again. I respond, pulling the book off the shelf and opening to a ‘random’ page. His poem, When the Sun Conceived a Man, (read it here ) greets me, a reminder that joy and music can make sense Today as they did in days past and will in days to come.  Thank you, wise poet.

Sing. Dance. Make music. Make a joyful noise in all you do in the days ahead. And let go of making sense!

Mountain Edges