Halloween evening, as the sun was setting, I walked in the woods. The air was chilly, with a hint of smoke, and sky was clear and cold. As I walked, I saw a few deer, lots of squirrels, chipmunks and ducks. They were all very busy, digging in the dry leaves, dashing between trees, not paying any attention to the people on the paths.
I got a strange sense that evening of a deep and pregnant silence laid over the park. It was not actually quiet, the squirrels and deer made quite a lot of crunching and crackling noise in the leaves, but all the sounds seemed to be laid against a heavy background of silence. Even the people chatting or greeting each other as they walked seemed to want to talk in whispers, and avoid drawing attention to themselves.
The animals all seemed almost frantic in their movements. When I tried to speak to them, no one wanted to pause and talk, everyone seemed entirely focused on getting their feeding or gathering done quickly. A trio of turkey hens did say as they trotted away that they were headed towards their cozy spot, that they hoped I was going to be safely under cover before dark; this was not a night to be wandering about.
Deep in the woods the path runs beside a creek bed. At one low point, the creek bed widens a bit and runs over flat smooth stone; it looks like a perfect ford or crossing place, except that it seems to lead no where - there is not a path on either side. But yet the feeling has always persisted that this was a crossing place. Some time ago I had asked the stones and trees there about it, and they had told me that at certain times there are those who cross there -- they have always done so, since long before people first walked this country. They are not animals either; they cross here on the way to somewhere else.
This evening as I passed the crossing spot the air felt tingly, and I stopped and waited for a bit to see if there was in fact something crossing that my eyes could not see. After a minute I got the feeling that spot I was standing, on the rock that leads into the water, was not a wise place to be. When it came, it would pass through there and I should not be in its way. I stepped off the rocky area a little further up the path, and waited quietly again; I really wanted to see if there was something coming.
As I stood there in the silence, there was a sudden large noise at the top of the ridge well above me; a loud shaking/crashing/rushing noise of dry leaves and branches that stopped as soon as it started. I looked up, and the branches in one of the trees at the top of the hill were shuddering, as if something had shaken then harshly and then let go. Everything was quiet again, not even any squirrels rustling. A moment later, another tree a few yards further down the ridge did the same thing, a group of upper branches suddenly shaking violently and then stopped. I got a very strong sense that something was coming. I was not in immediate danger, but it would be very foolish to be here after dark tonight. Something was on its way, and would cross here tonight after dark. I got a clear message from the surrounding trees and animals that it would be very dangerous to meet it, you do not want to come to its attention; as long as you are tucked in your home and quiet by nightfall you are safe, but only a fool would risk interfering with it. I decided that I would take their advice, and continued my walk rather quickly, leaving the valley and returning home.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Gnosis
I know a secret.
The green growing grass shares it;
I can tell by the way that it springs up anew
each year from its own hidden seed.
My drowsing cat reveals,
through his quiet purrs,
that he knows it too.
My daughter knows it also,
as intimated by her sigh
as she curls in my lap.
I cannot tell you the secret:
words fly from it like swallows from a thresher,
like butterflies from a running child.
As mute as a chick sleeping in its egg,
I cannot say what I know or how I know;
I just gnow.
The green growing grass shares it;
I can tell by the way that it springs up anew
each year from its own hidden seed.
My drowsing cat reveals,
through his quiet purrs,
that he knows it too.
My daughter knows it also,
as intimated by her sigh
as she curls in my lap.
I cannot tell you the secret:
words fly from it like swallows from a thresher,
like butterflies from a running child.
As mute as a chick sleeping in its egg,
I cannot say what I know or how I know;
I just gnow.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
The Traveler
I walked in the woods in the evening
Through the marshes and the trees
Watching the graceful birds and squirrels
And the shy and slender deer.
A fellow traveler joined me
Stepping quietly down the path
Enjoying the quiet breezes
And crickets singing.
I spoke of my love of the beauty
Of the water and the trees
The fleeting deer and acorns
And the wildflowers by the way.
He whispered that he'd walked this path
For years it seemed to him
Taking joy in the vibrant greenness
And wildbirds winging.
From the greenwoods to the meadow
He walked to ease his heart
My company was welcome
Upon this quiet night.
For others passed but never saw him
And seldom heard his steps
And he was left to walk alone
With twilight fading.
He'd had a loving wife, he said
A laughing, dark-eyed girl
Who loved the blazing wildflowers
And warmed his tender heart.
But she was far away now
And he knew not when they'd meet
And his aching heart grew tired
With the waiting.
So I walked with him a while
Knowing now why we'd met
For my love was also far away
And I was left without her.
I sought the shaded woodland path
To ease my aching heart
And dream of being in her arms
Our laughter ringing.
- for Athena, 2011
Through the marshes and the trees
Watching the graceful birds and squirrels
And the shy and slender deer.
A fellow traveler joined me
Stepping quietly down the path
Enjoying the quiet breezes
And crickets singing.
I spoke of my love of the beauty
Of the water and the trees
The fleeting deer and acorns
And the wildflowers by the way.
He whispered that he'd walked this path
For years it seemed to him
Taking joy in the vibrant greenness
And wildbirds winging.
From the greenwoods to the meadow
He walked to ease his heart
My company was welcome
Upon this quiet night.
For others passed but never saw him
And seldom heard his steps
And he was left to walk alone
With twilight fading.
He'd had a loving wife, he said
A laughing, dark-eyed girl
Who loved the blazing wildflowers
And warmed his tender heart.
But she was far away now
And he knew not when they'd meet
And his aching heart grew tired
With the waiting.
So I walked with him a while
Knowing now why we'd met
For my love was also far away
And I was left without her.
I sought the shaded woodland path
To ease my aching heart
And dream of being in her arms
Our laughter ringing.
- for Athena, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Retreat
Yesterday I took a day-long, private retreat on some land that a friend owns. Except for saying Hi to a neighbor as I came in the night before, I didn't speak to a single person the entire day. The land has a large, beautiful creek, secluded in trees, that leads back to a larger river that crosses their land; it was a day of nothing but high grasses, old trees, swift clear water, tumbled stones, sun and sky.
I started fasting the night before, and didn't eat anything all Saturday, until breakfast on Sunday. My goal was to spend a day in contemplation, journeying, and dancing to thank the powers that have guided and aided me during this time of my life, especially Water who had promised to carry me though the turbulent rapids to a safe landing. In spite of (or perhaps because of) the many setbacks, trials, and tests recently, my new job and location is everything I could have wanted, and will be great foundation for the future of my family. I just heard that my previous company was just bought out and practically everyone fired, so I got out just in time! Water told me that the process would not be easy or comfortable, but that he would carry me though if I would put my trust in him. He was certainly right, and a big part of this retreat was to thank him and honor all my guides.
I left behind all electronic devices and locked my phone in the car, so I had the entire day and the night to follow with no clock, no contact with anyone. It was a long, slow, but very rewarding day. The hours seemed endless, without even meals to mark the time. Most of the day was fine and fair, cool but with a warm sun. I walked through the grass, waded in the cold clear creek, and spoke with the trees, birds, fish, grasshoppers, tiny frogs, wild turkey, flowers, rocks, and water. I tried to keep myself halfway in the non-ordinary realm as much as possible, shaking my rattle and occasionally dancing.
I also brought Michael Harner's The Way of the Shaman, a classic work and well worth the reading. He is a professional anthropologist who has studied shamanism around the world, and has himself become a shaman and worked as a student with master shaman around the world. He gives good, practical advice for learning shamanic techniques, and also offers insights from many traditions. He adds good scholarly and psychological perspectives, while validating shamanic reality and experiences and not trying to "explain them away" with psychology.
I sat for a long time on the gravel bar in the river, and journeyed a bit. I never got deep into the lowerworld, but I did speak with and thank Water for his help. I think it was too sunny for a deep trance, Harner says the most shamans work primarily at night for this reason. So the day was more about tuning in to nature and turning off the monkey mind, communing with the beings around me.
Walking in the woods around the creek, I found a nice flat open area screened by brush. I tried Harner's exercise "Dancing your Animal". I shook my rattle in a steady beat, and pushed deeper into the lowerworld; then I started dancing (really just shuffling) and invited any animal that wished to come and dance through me. I felt Spider come (she had been near me all day) and we danced as Spider. Walking with long legs, with grace and silence; spinning a web; casting threads and pulling them to me; walking the web with confidence and care. I do see now why traditional dancing takes place on large areas of beaten earth - when you are truly immersed in the dance it is hard to remember to watch your footing :) This was a very rewarding and enjoyable dance, and I feel closer to Spider that ever, and I think she enjoyed it too.
Part of the time that I was dancing, the Indian I had met before in my journeys, Teacher of Boys to Men, came and danced beside me. It was very gratifying and inspiring.
Later, after more walking and wading, I asked my guides for a power song. This is another of Harner's suggestions. It is a song, usually simple and repetitive, that you sing as you start a journey or other power work, to waken your guides and call them to you. It also aids you in moving into shamanic consciousness, like the rattle or drum, by preparing your mind and becoming associated subconsciously with the transition.
I was not expecting much with this, I have never had a musical bent and have never invented even a simple tune or song. So I was surprised when, as soon as I started dancing and beating time with my rattle, words came to me and came out of my mouth with almost no volition. The words were evocative for me, although the song was not fully formed; I added a bit where it seemed right, and had a full verse in just a moment. A second verse suggested itself immediately, and I sang that too. I sang them both for a few minutes, liking them very much but feeling that they weren't powerful enough, they needed something more. Immediately in my head appeared a third verse, that was even more powerful. So I ended up (with almost no effort, just as Harner has said) with three verses that as I sing them step the power up 1 - 2 - 3 as they go. I was singing them to myself in my head, still a bit shy of singing them out loud. even though nobody could hear :). But there was no tune, it was just a chant. So I sang them out loud, and a simple tune immediately fitted itself to the words as I sang them, which completed the song. The tune is very simple, but perfect for humming or whistling as a repeated pattern, which is great for certain stages of power work. So I advise anyone who tries this, sing it out loud, and proudly! That is what it is for.
A power song is personal, but not private, so here are the words that came to me:
The Sun is my friend
The Earth is my friend
The Wind is my friend
The Water is my friend
oooo - Ah!
oooo - Ah!
(repeat 4 times)
The Sun is in my heart
The Earth is in my heart
The Wind is in my heart
The Water is in my heart
oooo - Ah!
oooo - Ah!
(repeat 4 times)
My heart is in the Sun
My heart is in the Earth
My heart is in the Wind
My heart is in the Water
oooo - Ah!
oooo - Ah!
(repeat 4 times)
Looking at this song, it reminds me strongly of various American Indian ritual songs, such as the one about the Navaho "Prayer to the Prophet" and the Osage "Rising of the Buffalo Men" http://members.cox.net/academia/songs.html.
During the day I was also gifted with several things. A lovely feather was laid across the path directly in front of me. Several nice acorns were left out for me. A fragment of broken stone called out to me as a symbol of Earth. My attention was drawn to a nice stone in the creek at one point, which I admired but left there; a few hours later it called out to me more forcefully and said it was offered by Water. At one point I was admiring a walnut on a walnut tree, when it came off into my hand as a gift.
After receiving the feather and the stone fragment, and some of the acorns, I returned to the camp where I was leaving my things. I started to set my gifts down so I could go walk so more, but a spider web caught my hand just as I was putting the feather down and pulled it back to my chest; Spider clearly wanted me to keep the feather with me. So I threaded it on the medallion that Athena gave me, that I always wear when doing shamanic or Reiki work, and wore it all day.
In the evening, I was thinking of what I wanted to do that night. I had been considering going to retrieve a power animal for Athena to help with the stress and worry that she has been dealing with, but I was not sure if this was the right thing to do. So I pulled out the Celtic Tree Oracle cards I had brought, and did the 5-card spread to ask how I could best help her in this time.
The answer was surprisingly clear:
Primary card -
Blackberry: Gather in what is dearest to you
Clarifying cards -
Scots Pine: Seek an overview
Apple: Vision lights the way ahead
Ivy: Strength comes from accepting support
Ash: Strength grows from deep roots
To me this was suprisingly clear: focus on "gathering her in", keeping her close in my heart. Keep an eye on the long view, and trust our vision of the road ahead. Give and accept support from her, to help us both, and keep strong the roots of our love. She doesn't need a power animal to help her though this -- she needs me, and I need her, and together we have the strength and vision to succeed. This was confirmed later when I tried to make a journey for her, just in case; I was gently but firmly "kicked out" and told that this was not what I needed to do.
As it began to get dark, I took my things to the gravel bar in the river, where I planned to spend the night meditating and journeying. As I was leaving the camp, I started to get a bit freaked out by the dark under the trees; I could see enough to walk by I knew it would be spooky in the woods. Just as I was thinking that, I walked into two long strong spider web strands that wrapped around my forehead on over my ears, just like a circlet. I immediately knew that Spider had provided me protection, that it would make me safe from anything that walked the night. I felt much better! I sang my power song as I went through the woods, just to make sure that I was power-full and would be safe from any bad energy.
I sat on the gravel bank on a deck chair as it got dark, with just a small candle burning, and tried to journey. But I think by this time I was too tired, I could not keep the concentration and kept coming back up. After a while I accepted this; I had already received so much this day that I was not disappointed.
I watched the stars and the water, talked a bit with Water, and communed with nature as night fell. It was slightly overcast, so there was enough reflected light around that I could see, especially over the white river rocks. The clouds thickened, and I felt an occasional soft drop of rain, but not too much. The water was ink-black and mysterious, shimmering in the dark and talking with a thousand voices. The birds, crickets, and frogs answered, and the wind whispered over it all. The rocks spoke as I walked, and listened to it all.
I dozed occasionally, and walked and listened. Late in the night (maybe after midnight?) the wind picked up and it got much colder, and it started to sprinkle in earnest, and I decided on the better part of valor. I took the candle (in a perforated ceramic holder) and walked back to the camp. I spent the rest of the night in the camping trailer, with the heater on :) The weather forecast had been for clear skies and mid 60s, but it ended up with light rain and mid 40s, so I was very happy to be dry and warm for the rest of the night!
Some things I learned for the future:
1. Don't plan to stay awake and working all night. I was just too sleepy to focus well during the late night.
2. Starting the fast the night before may not have been a good idea, and maybe a light breakfast would have been good. I was getting rather fuzzy by nightfall and did not have enough energy to really do as much as I had hoped. The purpose is not to become weak and drowsy, but just to separate yourself from the needs and physical comforts of the day. It would be better to have more energy going into the evening, so that the early night time can be used to its best advantage.
3. Plan better for changes in the weather!
I really loved this day of contemplation and listening. I feel like I got a lot out of it. I received several wonderful gifts, and I really had time to talk with and thank all my patrons and guides.
I started fasting the night before, and didn't eat anything all Saturday, until breakfast on Sunday. My goal was to spend a day in contemplation, journeying, and dancing to thank the powers that have guided and aided me during this time of my life, especially Water who had promised to carry me though the turbulent rapids to a safe landing. In spite of (or perhaps because of) the many setbacks, trials, and tests recently, my new job and location is everything I could have wanted, and will be great foundation for the future of my family. I just heard that my previous company was just bought out and practically everyone fired, so I got out just in time! Water told me that the process would not be easy or comfortable, but that he would carry me though if I would put my trust in him. He was certainly right, and a big part of this retreat was to thank him and honor all my guides.
I left behind all electronic devices and locked my phone in the car, so I had the entire day and the night to follow with no clock, no contact with anyone. It was a long, slow, but very rewarding day. The hours seemed endless, without even meals to mark the time. Most of the day was fine and fair, cool but with a warm sun. I walked through the grass, waded in the cold clear creek, and spoke with the trees, birds, fish, grasshoppers, tiny frogs, wild turkey, flowers, rocks, and water. I tried to keep myself halfway in the non-ordinary realm as much as possible, shaking my rattle and occasionally dancing.
I also brought Michael Harner's The Way of the Shaman, a classic work and well worth the reading. He is a professional anthropologist who has studied shamanism around the world, and has himself become a shaman and worked as a student with master shaman around the world. He gives good, practical advice for learning shamanic techniques, and also offers insights from many traditions. He adds good scholarly and psychological perspectives, while validating shamanic reality and experiences and not trying to "explain them away" with psychology.
I sat for a long time on the gravel bar in the river, and journeyed a bit. I never got deep into the lowerworld, but I did speak with and thank Water for his help. I think it was too sunny for a deep trance, Harner says the most shamans work primarily at night for this reason. So the day was more about tuning in to nature and turning off the monkey mind, communing with the beings around me.
Walking in the woods around the creek, I found a nice flat open area screened by brush. I tried Harner's exercise "Dancing your Animal". I shook my rattle in a steady beat, and pushed deeper into the lowerworld; then I started dancing (really just shuffling) and invited any animal that wished to come and dance through me. I felt Spider come (she had been near me all day) and we danced as Spider. Walking with long legs, with grace and silence; spinning a web; casting threads and pulling them to me; walking the web with confidence and care. I do see now why traditional dancing takes place on large areas of beaten earth - when you are truly immersed in the dance it is hard to remember to watch your footing :) This was a very rewarding and enjoyable dance, and I feel closer to Spider that ever, and I think she enjoyed it too.
Part of the time that I was dancing, the Indian I had met before in my journeys, Teacher of Boys to Men, came and danced beside me. It was very gratifying and inspiring.
Later, after more walking and wading, I asked my guides for a power song. This is another of Harner's suggestions. It is a song, usually simple and repetitive, that you sing as you start a journey or other power work, to waken your guides and call them to you. It also aids you in moving into shamanic consciousness, like the rattle or drum, by preparing your mind and becoming associated subconsciously with the transition.
I was not expecting much with this, I have never had a musical bent and have never invented even a simple tune or song. So I was surprised when, as soon as I started dancing and beating time with my rattle, words came to me and came out of my mouth with almost no volition. The words were evocative for me, although the song was not fully formed; I added a bit where it seemed right, and had a full verse in just a moment. A second verse suggested itself immediately, and I sang that too. I sang them both for a few minutes, liking them very much but feeling that they weren't powerful enough, they needed something more. Immediately in my head appeared a third verse, that was even more powerful. So I ended up (with almost no effort, just as Harner has said) with three verses that as I sing them step the power up 1 - 2 - 3 as they go. I was singing them to myself in my head, still a bit shy of singing them out loud. even though nobody could hear :). But there was no tune, it was just a chant. So I sang them out loud, and a simple tune immediately fitted itself to the words as I sang them, which completed the song. The tune is very simple, but perfect for humming or whistling as a repeated pattern, which is great for certain stages of power work. So I advise anyone who tries this, sing it out loud, and proudly! That is what it is for.
A power song is personal, but not private, so here are the words that came to me:
The Sun is my friend
The Earth is my friend
The Wind is my friend
The Water is my friend
oooo - Ah!
oooo - Ah!
(repeat 4 times)
The Sun is in my heart
The Earth is in my heart
The Wind is in my heart
The Water is in my heart
oooo - Ah!
oooo - Ah!
(repeat 4 times)
My heart is in the Sun
My heart is in the Earth
My heart is in the Wind
My heart is in the Water
oooo - Ah!
oooo - Ah!
(repeat 4 times)
Looking at this song, it reminds me strongly of various American Indian ritual songs, such as the one about the Navaho "Prayer to the Prophet" and the Osage "Rising of the Buffalo Men" http://members.cox.net/academia/songs.html.
During the day I was also gifted with several things. A lovely feather was laid across the path directly in front of me. Several nice acorns were left out for me. A fragment of broken stone called out to me as a symbol of Earth. My attention was drawn to a nice stone in the creek at one point, which I admired but left there; a few hours later it called out to me more forcefully and said it was offered by Water. At one point I was admiring a walnut on a walnut tree, when it came off into my hand as a gift.
After receiving the feather and the stone fragment, and some of the acorns, I returned to the camp where I was leaving my things. I started to set my gifts down so I could go walk so more, but a spider web caught my hand just as I was putting the feather down and pulled it back to my chest; Spider clearly wanted me to keep the feather with me. So I threaded it on the medallion that Athena gave me, that I always wear when doing shamanic or Reiki work, and wore it all day.
In the evening, I was thinking of what I wanted to do that night. I had been considering going to retrieve a power animal for Athena to help with the stress and worry that she has been dealing with, but I was not sure if this was the right thing to do. So I pulled out the Celtic Tree Oracle cards I had brought, and did the 5-card spread to ask how I could best help her in this time.
The answer was surprisingly clear:
Primary card -
Blackberry: Gather in what is dearest to you
Clarifying cards -
Scots Pine: Seek an overview
Apple: Vision lights the way ahead
Ivy: Strength comes from accepting support
Ash: Strength grows from deep roots
To me this was suprisingly clear: focus on "gathering her in", keeping her close in my heart. Keep an eye on the long view, and trust our vision of the road ahead. Give and accept support from her, to help us both, and keep strong the roots of our love. She doesn't need a power animal to help her though this -- she needs me, and I need her, and together we have the strength and vision to succeed. This was confirmed later when I tried to make a journey for her, just in case; I was gently but firmly "kicked out" and told that this was not what I needed to do.
As it began to get dark, I took my things to the gravel bar in the river, where I planned to spend the night meditating and journeying. As I was leaving the camp, I started to get a bit freaked out by the dark under the trees; I could see enough to walk by I knew it would be spooky in the woods. Just as I was thinking that, I walked into two long strong spider web strands that wrapped around my forehead on over my ears, just like a circlet. I immediately knew that Spider had provided me protection, that it would make me safe from anything that walked the night. I felt much better! I sang my power song as I went through the woods, just to make sure that I was power-full and would be safe from any bad energy.
I sat on the gravel bank on a deck chair as it got dark, with just a small candle burning, and tried to journey. But I think by this time I was too tired, I could not keep the concentration and kept coming back up. After a while I accepted this; I had already received so much this day that I was not disappointed.
I watched the stars and the water, talked a bit with Water, and communed with nature as night fell. It was slightly overcast, so there was enough reflected light around that I could see, especially over the white river rocks. The clouds thickened, and I felt an occasional soft drop of rain, but not too much. The water was ink-black and mysterious, shimmering in the dark and talking with a thousand voices. The birds, crickets, and frogs answered, and the wind whispered over it all. The rocks spoke as I walked, and listened to it all.
I dozed occasionally, and walked and listened. Late in the night (maybe after midnight?) the wind picked up and it got much colder, and it started to sprinkle in earnest, and I decided on the better part of valor. I took the candle (in a perforated ceramic holder) and walked back to the camp. I spent the rest of the night in the camping trailer, with the heater on :) The weather forecast had been for clear skies and mid 60s, but it ended up with light rain and mid 40s, so I was very happy to be dry and warm for the rest of the night!
Some things I learned for the future:
1. Don't plan to stay awake and working all night. I was just too sleepy to focus well during the late night.
2. Starting the fast the night before may not have been a good idea, and maybe a light breakfast would have been good. I was getting rather fuzzy by nightfall and did not have enough energy to really do as much as I had hoped. The purpose is not to become weak and drowsy, but just to separate yourself from the needs and physical comforts of the day. It would be better to have more energy going into the evening, so that the early night time can be used to its best advantage.
3. Plan better for changes in the weather!
I really loved this day of contemplation and listening. I feel like I got a lot out of it. I received several wonderful gifts, and I really had time to talk with and thank all my patrons and guides.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
The Adversaries
I finally got back to finishing my post about meeting the adversaries of the four directions last year, a post which I lost and had to rewrite:
http://grenewinae.blogspot.com/2010/08/recommitment.html
http://grenewinae.blogspot.com/2010/08/recommitment.html
Walking with a spirit
This time when I walked the long trail, I saw no deer at all, and only one armadillo in the distance. But spiritually it was a different experience.
There is a place in the trail near the beginning where you leave an open field area and plunge down into the dense woods. This time it really struck me, and reminded me of the beginning of a spirit journey -- when the traveler leaves the world of light and follows the path into mystery. I welcomed this feeling, and tried to immerse myself in it as I walked, trying to walk in both worlds at once - the ordinary world of a path through the woods, and the non-ordinary world of a spirit journey. I felt the woods around me overlaid with the numinous, and was aware of the slow dreams of the trees and animals. Everything felt more secret and mysterious.
There is a part of the path that is a boardwalk that is raised slightly over the marshy ground. As I walked it before, I kept hearing what seemed to be footsteps behind me, very faint. This time I heard them again, and I sent out a call inviting them to walk with me. I got a very faint impression of a man who likes to walk this path, but who is seldom sensed by anyone. I saw nothing (he said that he did not think anyone had ever seen him) but I got the sense that he was walking a ways behind me. He wasn't strong enough to come close, but liked being noticed. He seemed only lightly connected to time, he seemed to have little memory. He just remembered walking in these woods and loving them.
I invited him to walk with me (he could only walk behind by several yards) and walked with him on the boardwalk out of the wooded area into a marshy meadow, which made him happy. He faded out about halfway through the meadow, and was gone by the time I reached the river at the far side.
I have never sensed human spirits before, it was an odd experience. I am not sure how much real awareness he has; he seems happy with his quiet ghost dance on the path.
There is a place in the trail near the beginning where you leave an open field area and plunge down into the dense woods. This time it really struck me, and reminded me of the beginning of a spirit journey -- when the traveler leaves the world of light and follows the path into mystery. I welcomed this feeling, and tried to immerse myself in it as I walked, trying to walk in both worlds at once - the ordinary world of a path through the woods, and the non-ordinary world of a spirit journey. I felt the woods around me overlaid with the numinous, and was aware of the slow dreams of the trees and animals. Everything felt more secret and mysterious.
There is a part of the path that is a boardwalk that is raised slightly over the marshy ground. As I walked it before, I kept hearing what seemed to be footsteps behind me, very faint. This time I heard them again, and I sent out a call inviting them to walk with me. I got a very faint impression of a man who likes to walk this path, but who is seldom sensed by anyone. I saw nothing (he said that he did not think anyone had ever seen him) but I got the sense that he was walking a ways behind me. He wasn't strong enough to come close, but liked being noticed. He seemed only lightly connected to time, he seemed to have little memory. He just remembered walking in these woods and loving them.
I invited him to walk with me (he could only walk behind by several yards) and walked with him on the boardwalk out of the wooded area into a marshy meadow, which made him happy. He faded out about halfway through the meadow, and was gone by the time I reached the river at the far side.
I have never sensed human spirits before, it was an odd experience. I am not sure how much real awareness he has; he seems happy with his quiet ghost dance on the path.
Walking with many meetings
I walked again in the nature preserve near my place, in the early evening. I took the "long trail", which is about 2 miles. It was beautiful, and there was so much wildlife! I must have passed 6 groups of deer, just eating and hanging out; they were within 20 to 30 feet of the path. I took a moment when I passed each to greet them and ask their names, and to snap a few pictures with my phone (most of them didn't come out). What a wonderful walk! Here is who I met on the way:
Rachel, a rather timid doe.
Andromeda, a reddish dappled fawn and his mother Hyacinth - she said her name was given her by her last buck because of the violet glints in her eyes.
Robert, an armadillo. He was too busy digging under the leaves to talk :).
Grass-nibbler and Grass-leaper, who were waited beside the path for me to pass before they crossed.
Emily and Listener. Emily was a larger doe, and Listener was much smaller. Here is a picture of them:
Listener is on the left - he spent more time watching and listening than eating.
Several of them said that they really like the nature preserve - they feel safe there, and know that people will leave them alone there, but they are in danger if they leave.
Rachel, a rather timid doe.
Andromeda, a reddish dappled fawn and his mother Hyacinth - she said her name was given her by her last buck because of the violet glints in her eyes.
Robert, an armadillo. He was too busy digging under the leaves to talk :).
Grass-nibbler and Grass-leaper, who were waited beside the path for me to pass before they crossed.
Emily and Listener. Emily was a larger doe, and Listener was much smaller. Here is a picture of them:
Several of them said that they really like the nature preserve - they feel safe there, and know that people will leave them alone there, but they are in danger if they leave.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Visit from Mantis
Back home this weekend, I was working in the garage on repairing and reinforcing a small table to become a vanity stand. Suddenly a praying mantis landed right in front of me, on my level as I was working. He was small, only a few centimeters, and bright green. He was totally fearless, and walked up and looked at me, then walked around on my level. I grabbed my phone and tried taking some pictures of him; he was very curious about me and kept peering at my sideways and weaving his head.
After admiring him for a bit, I talked with him a bit. He didn't have much to say, he was just very curious about what I was doing. He walked around and watched me, even when I used the power saw.
I asked him if he had any message or wisdom for me, and he told me about the importance of patience and paying attention to things; that you need to be alert and prepared to act in the moment.
After a bit I told him I was concerned that he would be trapped inside the garage and suffer from the heat, and carried the level out to the side yard and set it under a bush. He took the ride calmly, but was very excited by the bush, and twisted around looking up into the branches with great animation. I wished him good hunting, and left him there.
After admiring him for a bit, I talked with him a bit. He didn't have much to say, he was just very curious about what I was doing. He walked around and watched me, even when I used the power saw.
I asked him if he had any message or wisdom for me, and he told me about the importance of patience and paying attention to things; that you need to be alert and prepared to act in the moment.
After a bit I told him I was concerned that he would be trapped inside the garage and suffer from the heat, and carried the level out to the side yard and set it under a bush. He took the ride calmly, but was very excited by the bush, and twisted around looking up into the branches with great animation. I wished him good hunting, and left him there.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
The woods, remembering
I have started my new job in Missouri. I like it: good people, strong company, interesting work. I also like the city I am in now, it is smaller than where I have lived before but still big enough to have thriving businesses and lots of things going on.
A few minutes from my place is a beautiful nature center, with lovely trails and lots of wildlife: birds, squirrels, deer, turkeys, etc. Last night after dinner I went down there and walked a little way to a nice wooden overlook where I stood and tried to open myself up to the spirit of the woods. As I let the energy flow, and looked out over the sunlit trees, a sense built up of the woods. It reminded me of Treebeard and the Old Forest: a sense of quiet, and a feeling like looking into a deep pool with layers of memories going back into the distant past, with the present like the gentle shimmering on the surface. I could feel the woods remembering when it was part of a great forest that marched over all these hills, and hunters and travelers passed through. The woods feel friendly and well-disposed towards people, and enjoy being appreciated by the hikers and joggers, but they still feel that people are just a recent invention.
As I finished, I rested my hand on the trunk of a large pine that was growing right at the side of the path at the entrance to the overlook. I said hi, and tried to get a feel for it. He sees himself as a sentinel, guarding the overlook, and as we talked I could feel huge waves of power flowing from him into my hand which felt warm and tingly. I just opened my heart and let the power flow, and felt his participation in the deep memories and history of this place, and the vibrancy of the life.
I thanked him and the woods, and walked back to my car. I love this area, and I look forward to communicating more with it.
A few minutes from my place is a beautiful nature center, with lovely trails and lots of wildlife: birds, squirrels, deer, turkeys, etc. Last night after dinner I went down there and walked a little way to a nice wooden overlook where I stood and tried to open myself up to the spirit of the woods. As I let the energy flow, and looked out over the sunlit trees, a sense built up of the woods. It reminded me of Treebeard and the Old Forest: a sense of quiet, and a feeling like looking into a deep pool with layers of memories going back into the distant past, with the present like the gentle shimmering on the surface. I could feel the woods remembering when it was part of a great forest that marched over all these hills, and hunters and travelers passed through. The woods feel friendly and well-disposed towards people, and enjoy being appreciated by the hikers and joggers, but they still feel that people are just a recent invention.
As I finished, I rested my hand on the trunk of a large pine that was growing right at the side of the path at the entrance to the overlook. I said hi, and tried to get a feel for it. He sees himself as a sentinel, guarding the overlook, and as we talked I could feel huge waves of power flowing from him into my hand which felt warm and tingly. I just opened my heart and let the power flow, and felt his participation in the deep memories and history of this place, and the vibrancy of the life.
I thanked him and the woods, and walked back to my car. I love this area, and I look forward to communicating more with it.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
The Ring of Trees
I.
I follow the path that my teachers showed me,
but never too closely, always a bit to this side or that.
The pines whisper hints to me,
the birches offer subtle guidance.
I pass the trees and feel the clearing open before me.
If I open my eyes too wide
the branches close, the path tumbles,
and I am back at my doorstep.
Instead, I take a breath and another step.
II.
I pass the trees and feel the clearing open before me.
How far to the other side?
It is beyond the reach of my outstretched hands;
that is all I can know.
The sun is warm.
I sit in the grass and let the boundaries of the world
be wherever they want to be.
I follow the path that my teachers showed me,
but never too closely, always a bit to this side or that.
The pines whisper hints to me,
the birches offer subtle guidance.
I pass the trees and feel the clearing open before me.
If I open my eyes too wide
the branches close, the path tumbles,
and I am back at my doorstep.
Instead, I take a breath and another step.
II.
I pass the trees and feel the clearing open before me.
How far to the other side?
It is beyond the reach of my outstretched hands;
that is all I can know.
The sun is warm.
I sit in the grass and let the boundaries of the world
be wherever they want to be.
The Silver Calling
We have heard all our lives of the other place,
the perilous realm,
where the fair folk, the good neighbors, play their music.
But where is the border of their country?
How can it be anywhere,
now that we have explored the whole globe from poles to equator?
In the blazing light of the sun, with the blinding light of reason,
we have looked everywhere.
It is not to be found.
But in the crystalline darkness, we begin to know another truth.
The silver-gray gleams of the moon reveal to us,
in the unintended moment,
when we glance without seeking,
that the borders of the perilous realm are all about us.
All we need do is to trust, without understanding,
and follow the glimmers of what we know to be there.
(We must not frighten it by trying to decide if it is real or not.
Such certainty is its antithesis).
The light of the silver lady calls us,
pulling us away from what we think we are
into what she knows we can become.
into what we unknowingly know is our true self.
Is this not always her call?
Whether she beckons in our dreams,
rides a silver chariot in the night sky,
walks hand in hand with us in the mall,
or sleeps softly beside us,
she is always calling.
Can you not hear her music,
the plucked strings and sweet voices calling from beyond the trees?
the perilous realm,
where the fair folk, the good neighbors, play their music.
But where is the border of their country?
How can it be anywhere,
now that we have explored the whole globe from poles to equator?
In the blazing light of the sun, with the blinding light of reason,
we have looked everywhere.
It is not to be found.
But in the crystalline darkness, we begin to know another truth.
The silver-gray gleams of the moon reveal to us,
in the unintended moment,
when we glance without seeking,
that the borders of the perilous realm are all about us.
All we need do is to trust, without understanding,
and follow the glimmers of what we know to be there.
(We must not frighten it by trying to decide if it is real or not.
Such certainty is its antithesis).
The light of the silver lady calls us,
pulling us away from what we think we are
into what she knows we can become.
into what we unknowingly know is our true self.
Is this not always her call?
Whether she beckons in our dreams,
rides a silver chariot in the night sky,
walks hand in hand with us in the mall,
or sleeps softly beside us,
she is always calling.
Can you not hear her music,
the plucked strings and sweet voices calling from beyond the trees?
Reveal
Argent Lady, gazing down on us with your quiet laughter—
Your silver gleams reveal the truths that light hides from us.
Our eyes strain in the night,
Mistaking explicit mysteries for shadowed facts,
Honest insubstantiality for obscured permanence.
You watch, bemused by our blindness,
And release your luminous flood
To wash the stain of certainty from the world,
And reveal its translucence.
Grasping for comfortable clarity,
We lose your visions.
What you reveal is not in the words you speak
Of light and shadow,
But in what we come to know
When we stop looking for what we expect to see.
The arc lights of the parking lot
Hide your children from us—
The strident light is harsher, crueler, falser,
Than moonlight can ever be.
You yourself seem faded, shriveled.
But still you smile,
untouched by our frantic scrambling.
Secure in your own harmony,
Changing only by your own stately cycles,
You watch, reveal, and wait for us to see.
Your silver gleams reveal the truths that light hides from us.
Our eyes strain in the night,
Mistaking explicit mysteries for shadowed facts,
Honest insubstantiality for obscured permanence.
You watch, bemused by our blindness,
And release your luminous flood
To wash the stain of certainty from the world,
And reveal its translucence.
Grasping for comfortable clarity,
We lose your visions.
What you reveal is not in the words you speak
Of light and shadow,
But in what we come to know
When we stop looking for what we expect to see.
The arc lights of the parking lot
Hide your children from us—
The strident light is harsher, crueler, falser,
Than moonlight can ever be.
You yourself seem faded, shriveled.
But still you smile,
untouched by our frantic scrambling.
Secure in your own harmony,
Changing only by your own stately cycles,
You watch, reveal, and wait for us to see.
Metastable
My heart is clothed in an electric skin of life.
With each breath, life fills us
Driving out and drowning the lifelessness from which we came;
Pushing back the cold for one more moment.
Each of us will one day be rescued from this struggle,
Returned to the peace of stillness;
Reclaimed by the stones.
Till then, the fire of the conflict burns within my veins.
With each breath, life fills us
Driving out and drowning the lifelessness from which we came;
Pushing back the cold for one more moment.
Each of us will one day be rescued from this struggle,
Returned to the peace of stillness;
Reclaimed by the stones.
Till then, the fire of the conflict burns within my veins.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
A favorite quote
‘He showed me a little thing, the size of a hazelnut, lying in the palm of my hand. It was as round as a ball. I looked thereon with the eye of my understanding, and though what may this be?’ And it was answered plainly thus, ‘It is all that is made’
~ Julian of Norwich
~ Julian of Norwich
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Good news, finally!
I got the job offer from Missouri, and it was actually for a more senior position than I applied for! I have accepted, and I will be moving in August!
The visit to Missouri for the interview was actually full of problems, setbacks, and difficulties; my wife said that these were just tests to see if we were really committed :) I think they must have been, and we have been rewarded for our perseverence. The time ahead will be difficult, with a commuter marriage for a while, but it will help our economic situation and get us moving ahead, and in an area that we all really want to be living.
Yee-ha!!
The visit to Missouri for the interview was actually full of problems, setbacks, and difficulties; my wife said that these were just tests to see if we were really committed :) I think they must have been, and we have been rewarded for our perseverence. The time ahead will be difficult, with a commuter marriage for a while, but it will help our economic situation and get us moving ahead, and in an area that we all really want to be living.
Yee-ha!!
Thursday, July 21, 2011
An offering to Spider
While waiting in the lobby before the start of my interview, I reached out to the spiders in the building to tell me about the company. Spiders are everywhere, and pay attention to everything :)
The spiders said that people there were cheerful and got along, although there was often stress about short deadlines; it didn't seem any worse than most software companies and better than many. I asked them to use their influence to help me get an offer, if this was the right place for me.
The interview went well, and we came home. The next day my wife suggested that I should make an offering to Spider, to thank her for her help. This sounded like a good thing to do. That evening I collected several things from my past: some vines of last year's tomato plants, some nice yarn I had been saving for years, and a large red and blue glass bead. I wove a spiderweb on the vines, and threaded the bean onto the center.
The next question was what to do with it. Should I burn it? Throw it into the drainage canal behind the house? Then the thought popped into my head, that I should take it down to the park nearby, onto the bridge that crossed the steam, and cast it away there, for any person or thing to find if they choose.
That is what I did. I dedicated the web to Spider in the backyard, then walked down and stood on the bridge: suspended between places, above the waters of change, in the twilight between day and night. I called out to Spider, and to Oak, Water, and all good things. I declared I felt that this job was the right thing for me and my family, and that I accepted and welcomed the changes and challenges that this would mean for us; that it would mean good for me and good for the company; and that I wished that anyone who could hear me would do what they could to make this happen. I tossed the web out into the shadows and turned from it, hoping that my willingness to surrender things that I had been hoarding would be seen as a sign of my willingness to move forward into new things.
The spiders said that people there were cheerful and got along, although there was often stress about short deadlines; it didn't seem any worse than most software companies and better than many. I asked them to use their influence to help me get an offer, if this was the right place for me.
The interview went well, and we came home. The next day my wife suggested that I should make an offering to Spider, to thank her for her help. This sounded like a good thing to do. That evening I collected several things from my past: some vines of last year's tomato plants, some nice yarn I had been saving for years, and a large red and blue glass bead. I wove a spiderweb on the vines, and threaded the bean onto the center.
The next question was what to do with it. Should I burn it? Throw it into the drainage canal behind the house? Then the thought popped into my head, that I should take it down to the park nearby, onto the bridge that crossed the steam, and cast it away there, for any person or thing to find if they choose.
That is what I did. I dedicated the web to Spider in the backyard, then walked down and stood on the bridge: suspended between places, above the waters of change, in the twilight between day and night. I called out to Spider, and to Oak, Water, and all good things. I declared I felt that this job was the right thing for me and my family, and that I accepted and welcomed the changes and challenges that this would mean for us; that it would mean good for me and good for the company; and that I wished that anyone who could hear me would do what they could to make this happen. I tossed the web out into the shadows and turned from it, hoping that my willingness to surrender things that I had been hoarding would be seen as a sign of my willingness to move forward into new things.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Into Water's hands
My wife and I were off to Missouri this weekend for an interview for me, for a job that will hopefully change our lives for the better. In the hotel the night before, by wife suggested that I go float in the hot tub and commune with Water, "because water is the symbol of change".
These struck me as very wise words, so I did. As I floated, I opened up all my doors and reached out to the spirit of Water, asking its help in the changes that I long for. As I spoke with it, I felt the turbulence of the jets and knew that the change that Water offered would not necessarily be gentle or easy, but that I needed to commit myself absolutely to accept and welcome the change. I thought back to the shadow of the guardian of the East, the giant who closes the door. I spoke to him, asking him to pull the door open wide and let all the life changes that I both desired and feared pour through. I committed to diving into the raging stream of change, and put my life into the hands of Water. Water took my hand, and promised deliver me to where I needed to be. Water warned me that the journey would be rough in spots, as I have already experienced. But the only way to reach the sea is to dive into the river, and let it carry me through rapids.
Water has agreed to be my guide and guard during this time of change, and help shepherd me through to a better situation.
These struck me as very wise words, so I did. As I floated, I opened up all my doors and reached out to the spirit of Water, asking its help in the changes that I long for. As I spoke with it, I felt the turbulence of the jets and knew that the change that Water offered would not necessarily be gentle or easy, but that I needed to commit myself absolutely to accept and welcome the change. I thought back to the shadow of the guardian of the East, the giant who closes the door. I spoke to him, asking him to pull the door open wide and let all the life changes that I both desired and feared pour through. I committed to diving into the raging stream of change, and put my life into the hands of Water. Water took my hand, and promised deliver me to where I needed to be. Water warned me that the journey would be rough in spots, as I have already experienced. But the only way to reach the sea is to dive into the river, and let it carry me through rapids.
Water has agreed to be my guide and guard during this time of change, and help shepherd me through to a better situation.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Moon walk
It has been so horribly hot here, that I decided to take a walk in the neighborhood after dark. The moon nearly full, and very beautiful. As I walked, I prayed to the Argent Lady for help (or at least illumination) with our financial situation; I just asked for events to happen in a propitious sequence, since she is a keeper of the cycles of time. Mostly, I tried to ground and open myself to a sense of the numinous as I walked.
Encountered along the way:
A lady with a small white dog who was very protective.
A culvert with fireflies, with frogs who sang for me when I sat for a bit; they were silent before by arrival and after my departure.
Three young men honoring Apollo (by playing basketball)
The white dog again.
A couple with a large black dog and her puppy; the puppy ran to me to be petted.
I am not sure what these all mean, but they felt significant. Especially having the Black Dog's Pup race to me and fall over in delight to have its belly rubbed.
Encountered along the way:
A lady with a small white dog who was very protective.
A culvert with fireflies, with frogs who sang for me when I sat for a bit; they were silent before by arrival and after my departure.
Three young men honoring Apollo (by playing basketball)
The white dog again.
A couple with a large black dog and her puppy; the puppy ran to me to be petted.
I am not sure what these all mean, but they felt significant. Especially having the Black Dog's Pup race to me and fall over in delight to have its belly rubbed.
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