Be Here Now…Take My Hand

When Freddie died, I ran. I’ve always been a runner, but never long distance. My longest run before he passed was ten miles and that only happened twice. But after he died, I had a lump in my throat and an invisible hand covering my mouth, keeping me from gasping and gulping in the grief that I feared would never end. So I ran… half marathons, 30Ks and then two marathons. I was training for an ultra when the arthritis in my feet and knees quit responding to steroid shots and sidelined me. But the act of running – breathing hard, gasping for breath, sweating profusely allowed my whole body – every cell of my being – to cry.

Then I threw myself into the formation of a local nonprofit. I took the love for my brother and carried it to people in my community, delivering groceries to families. The same way I pushed through 26 mile runs, I pushed through days of illness and sadness and family emergencies to deliver these goods. During seven years, I missed one event because I couldn’t get off work.

I spent my money, my time, my love on that project.

Sadly a series of unfortunate events and lack of communication convinced me that I needed to step away from the group. Then six months later the charity as I knew it, dissolved. My heart was broken. I felt lost. I’ve lived from mission to mission. Where do I go from here?

I ran to cry and carried food to love. But there is so much more…

The next step is to BE HERE NOW. Suddenly my world is inundated with reminders that my mission is just this…this breath, this step, this moment, this tear, this heart’s flutter.

“Take my hand. We will walk. We will only walk. We will enjoy our walk without thinking of arriving anywhere.”

Thich Nhat Hanh

A lovin’ coven…a pack of wild women…or a kaleidoscope

We came together under a waning crescent moon, symbol of the wisdom of the crone: a wisdom hard earned and hard learned. The golden hour of evening fluttered, coloring the scene Autumn. Tonight was our Samhain/Dia de los Muertos celebration.

I stepped out of my car, uneasy. I only knew a few of these women. Would this be like a re-run of the 1970’s “Mean Girls with Farrah Hair Laugh at the Tall Weird Girl?” I looked over the crowd…no Farrah hair, no Jordache jeans, and thank the Goddess, no fucking pom poms.

Today I was the Völva, my own fierce version, covered in runes of protection and symbols signifying I was a magical being. I tacked on my fringed veil and placed the antlers on my head. Already I felt safer. Then I grabbed my staff…my masterpiece. One of my talents is that I find bones. I don’t necessarily go out of my way looking for them. I just seem to run across the most perfectly bleached bones while I’m walking my dogs. And this was a perfect wild pig skull. The Universe nodding her head then gave me a perfect branch, almost six feet tall, angled at the top. This staff was designed by Gaia and glued by epoxy.

According to many sources, the Völva was a seeress, a female practitioners of Seidr. The name actually means staff-carrier so the staff inspired the entire “costume.” The blood of Vikings and Germanic Heathens – powerful pagan women – ran through my blood. I’d always known it but in the last few years I was remembering.

A few years ago I took part in a guided meditation to commune with my feminine ancestors on Mother’s Day. In my vision I found myself surrounded by a circle of women – all sorts, all ages. One in a red dress, dancing and spinning. Several swathed in furs, casting bones. The older women draped furs over my shoulder, warming me. They held me in love…pressing small divination bones into my hands, whispering comforting words I didn’t understand. (and until this very moment as I write this, I didn’t realize the theme of bones that seems to repeat).

And today I was again surrounded by a wild array of women. La Catrinas danced to Nancy Sinatra. A mermaid gracefully swam by to her music. A crystal princess presented me with a magical stone while a lovely witch read my cards. Laughter, the song of the Goddess Iambe, tinkled like windchimes. A group of butterflies is called a kaleidoscope… and that is the most appropriate term I could imagine for this gathering of Divine Feminine Forces…a kaleidoscope of feminine energy and color.

The evening grew to night and we danced, ate, and laughed, joining our energies together in a way only women can. Monarchs travel alone but in the evenings they rest together, clustering in roosts to stay warm. Anybody who has ever encountered hundreds or thousands of butterflies dancing together on the wind will never forget the experience. Samhain Eve was like that. Clustered together, my kaleidoscope of swirling, dancing sisters warming each other for the long journey ahead is a memory I will never forget.

Butterfly Navigation Systems

Monarch and Queen on Zinnia taken in Voca

October saw the beauty of migration.  What seemed like millions of monarchs floated overhead on their long journey to Mexico.  They were like feathers on the wind, so graceful.  I am always astonished at how such seemingly fragile creatures can endure so much and travel so far.

I wondered how far they actually travel and found this record:  “A tagged male monarch (Danaus plexippus), released by Donald A. Davis (Canada) at Presqu’ile provincial Park near Brighton, Ontario, Canada, on 10 September 1988, was recaptured on 8 April 1989 in Austin, Texas, U.S.A., travelling an estimated 2880 miles, making this the World’s Longest Butterfly Migration according to the Guinness World Records Ltd (Davis, 2005)

 But usually a single monarch doesn’t make the entire trip.  Monarch butterflies may take as many as five generations to make it from Mexico to southern Canada and back again (Main, 2013).  Each generation is made up of four distinct life cycles – that’s 20 separate states of being.  

Which came first the monarch or the egg?  (The Science of monarchs)

 So, this is where it gets spiritual for me.  Somehow the knowledge of the journey gets passed not from one monarch to another but through an evolution of existences.  There is a ONENESS…from the butterfly to the egg to the caterpillar to the chrysalis to the butterfly.  Five monarchs, five times in an egg, five caterpillars, and five times in chrysalis:  the journey just continues.  Is it really five different monarchs making the trip or the spirit of one monarch just trying on new outfits along the way?

And then I think about the swarms of monarchs making the trip…this knowledge…this “TRUTH” is within each of them.  I don’t know how they share it or how they hear it, but they all just KNOW.  Could the swarm of butterflies really be part of a greater being…all butterflies are truly one? 

In the Elm Tree across the Creek from my House

 

What is this monarch navigation system? How quiet the mind of a monarch must be to hear this mystical guide!

Sunning in the field

I was on the phone for an hour Saturday with somebody I dearly love. It’s funny because I NEVER talk on the phone…nonetheless for an hour. We talked about how we both suffer from relentless voices in our heads…there is never quiet…never space.  The voices drive us and push us in directions we think we SHOULD go.  We hear the directions society, our parents, our bosses, our lovers believe we should go.  They chatter, like multiple GPS guidance systems talking at once, constantly recalculating new routes.

I believe that like the monarchs, we don’t need a GPS. I think we are all born with monarch navigation systems that gently whisper the directions.  But the voice is gentle, never forceful.  So, I must learn to quiet my mind to truly hear.  I know there is a whisper for me…I can feel the loving call.  I just have to be quiet enough to hear.

I constantly try to photograph the butterflies in flight…this was closest I got that day

References

Davis, D. (2005, September). Meet Canadian Naturalist. Retrieved from Journey North: https://journeynorth.org/tm/monarch/DavisDonBio.html

Main, D. (2013, August 13). Monarch butterflies may take five generations to migrate to US . Retrieved from NBC News: https://www.nbcnews.com/sciencemain/monarch-butterflies-may-take-five-generations-migrate-us-6C10910055

The Science of monarchs. (n.d.). Retrieved from Chautauqua Bird Tree and Garden Club: https://www.chautauquabtg.org/life-cycle-anatomy/

 

 

 

 

The air I breathe…

(I took all the photos around Voca, TX  – – such a beautiful spring!)

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I’ve been lost . . . for a long time, I think . . .

There is beauty wild messiness. . . 

Sometime during the last few decades, pieces of me died. Things that once burned brightly, faded. I can still feel a tiny flicker under my ribs, but it’s just a faint warmth.

I got caught up in being accepted…being loved…being kind…being like everyone else…

(How honest should I be in this blog? If I share too much somebody might feel hurt…but isn’t that the attitude that got me here in the first place?)

I SOLD OUT.

I traded my spark for conformity. I traded freedom for safety.  And I lost myself.

No audience is necessary for beauty to exist… no approval needed.

I learned something the other day as I walked/ran (wan or ralked) with the dogs. The aroma of trees in bloom was bewitching.  I found myself inhaling more deeply than I usually do.  I realized I was being beautifully seduced by these wise, wild arboreal beings…actually by all things green and fragrant. As I inhaled the air, I benefitted from the oxygen and the enchanting scent. When I exhaled, I returned the favor as carbon dioxide. I visualized ribbons of CO₂ rising to meet imaginary nostrils on leaves.

Without effort…without sacrifice…without losing myself, I was able to be a part of the circle simply by BE-ing. With a simple breath I gave easily and easily received.

Pollination starts with a thirst…with a desire…

Creation Story

My theory of reality/existence is based on personal experiences..on overwhelming feelings of oneness that changed me forever. Here is my take on…well…everything:

Once upon a time there was NOTHING except Supreme Love – God – Higher Power – Divine Beloved – the Creator – whatever you want to call Him/Her/It.  Since nothing else existed, this Creator had only its own “essence” to work with…and S/he exploded (BIG BANG) into fragments that became ALL THAT IS.

So every star, every planet, every piece of stardust is a piece of God. And to take it even farther…every being is a piece of God. Each cell is a piece of God…each atom.

In the Old Testament God is called I AM!  God ultimately IS…ALL THAT IS.

At the end of Yoga class, we use the phrase Namaste:  the divine in me sees the divine in you.

So here’s another thought that really blows my mind…99.999999% of each atom is empty space. So we are mostly empty space. We are empty space moving through empty space with a tiny fraction of matter… *note – this is not exactly accurate. See more information below if you’re interested.

What keeps us from merging into one another? Only electrostatic fields.  

When I sit back under my Bodhi tree and contemplate all this, I start to see that we really are all connected. There is only a vagueness that separates me from you. Remember in psychology classes when we were taught that babies cannot distinguish between themselves and their environments…well, maybe babies are right.

What if there is such a thing as reincarnation but with a twist? We are EACH and EVERY being  – we are the killer and the one being killed, we are the mother and we are the child, we are the lover, the beloved, and the hater…we are the Democrat and the Republican, the Christian, the Jew, the Muslim, the Pagan…we are the calf that is slaughtered and butchered and we are the one consuming the flesh…

Our karma means living all sides of all actions.  Our hell is created by us for us.  BUT we are also our own heavens…Each act of love  actually affects every other being. When we feed a starving kitten, we nourish All Beings.

Cut and paste from Wiki:  *The space between atoms may not have much matter (other than a few electrons) but it is still affected by fields – wiki check quantum field theory – which fill the space and impact upon anything that enters the space! So, the 99.9999999% is not really empty in the ‘nothingness’ sense of ‘empty‘! 

What if we decide to call that other stuff…that 99.999999%….LOVE ENERGY? Isn’t that a cool idea!

This changes so much for me…just by concentrating on LIGHT and LOVE, I can change the world. I no longer have to fight…I can just love.  That sure takes the pressure off.

So we are all ALL…and we can each change the world because all that “empty” space is something…it’s the love, the energy, we each manifest and move through…we swim in, inhale and exhale…we are God floating in Love creating more Love.

Namaste