I used to drink this as a child

Sometimes all it takes is a trigger to make your remember, again. I was getting my hair cut and highlighted, and while the color was setting, my friend, the stylist, was proudly showing me photographs of the beautiful fairy house she made with her 10-yr. old “little sister.” I was impressed by the intricate details and the obvious care and love that had gone into its creation, but the images faded into the background as we talked about other things. An hour later I walked out the door and continued on with my day. The little fairy house, already forgotten, lurked somewhere hidden inside my mind.

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A “fairy house” beside my home

Sometimes it takes a trigger, and also a release of the old to give way to the forgotten inner. After leaving the salon, I made my way to my tai chi class, where I stayed for the next hour. As I was preparing to leave, I over-heard a woman remark to her companion, “It’s like having reiki.” She’s absolutely right, I stopped in pause.

Or a double dose in my case. You see before I went to the salon, I had my Friday morning yoga class. Both yoga and tai chi work with the energy centers in the body where we hold our “chi,” and allow it to stir back into life where it has become stagnant. We also release stuck energy that’s ready to leave, to allow the true life force energy that resides in all of us to flow as it wants to. In tai chi class, we literally draw into our bodies the energy of Earth and the Universe to rejuvenate our bodies as we shake out the old that we no longer want to carry.

I was exhausted by the time I got home, and I uncharacteristically found my way to the hammock under the oaks and hemlocks and stayed there for so long I could hear the whisper of the arbiter inside me reminding me, “You should be making dinner now.” But, a stronger voice said, “Stay awhile longer. Forget about time as you have grown to follow it.”

So I stayed and took in the contrast of the green canopy of leaves filtering the brilliant illusion of a blue ceiling, allowing myself to just be. I watched and listened to the squirrels in the oak, carrying on their conversations as they clung impossibly to their vertical home. I fell into that hazy sleep of daytime, only to wake and wonder where I had temporarily gone.

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The blue of the sky

The day gave way to evening, and I ventured back into town to get take-out for my family. No one complained that I did not cook. The sky turned from the color of a blue jay’s wing to the color of the crows who had circled the skies like an omen when I had walked the dogs before I ventured to the  hammock.  I grew increasingly tired after dinner, sleep calling louder with each hour that passed until I finally made my way to bed.

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Night’s messenger

I can’t tell you where I traveled while I slept for most of the night, but I can tell you about the scene from which I woke this morning. I am still smiling with the memory of coming home, even though I couldn’t find the tea on the internet after I woke. But that’s really irrelevant.

Home, to my recollection, was mostly the scene of a summer forest. I woke, in the dream, that is, alone and outside. I had been sleeping in some sort of tent and my family was already gone for the day. I rolled my blankets and ventured out into my surroundings, which were lush and green, the color of the oak leaves before they turn in fall. There was some sort of wire enclosure, to keep animals in or out, I was not sure, but I rolled it away none-the-less. I searched the area for signs of life and found myself suddenly in winter, drawn up a hill beside an old mansion. There were neighbors working on their own house. I left them alone and walked through the snow toward a large hedgerow shaped into an archway. It was covered in ice, but there was a narrow opening in the middle, so I squeezed my way through. I was back to summer.

I shed my heavy coat, for there was no longer need of it, and found I was hungry. I ventured inside a hobbit-like house that felt like home, and there inside was a child. A girl who seemed to know me, and I her. She, I discovered, was also hungry. “I think they went to get more food,” she told me, and we saw the remnants of a meal. Animals appeared around our feet. A couple of young cats, and two small white dogs. The blind one lingered around my legs. Daisy appeared, but not my dog companions who are still in physical form.

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Daisy, who always reminded me when the elementals had something to say

Soon we discovered the food. It was a full buffet, laid out, partially hidden, in a depression in the kitchen counter. For a moment we indulged our appetites, then began the search for tea. “I think it’s over there, I told the girl.” We culled through drawers filled with tea, but could not find the kind we were looking for. Above the counter were cabinets, and I opened one, only to discover what I had been looking for. My eager hands held the boxes filled with the green of spring. I read the labels, “Fairy Tea,” and felt the inner stirrings of joy. “I used to drink this as a child,” I told her. But, of course, she already knew that.

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With my friend Deb at Samhain. That spark of light on my left arm just might be a fairy

 

 

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What the vines said

I went outside this morning to ask the vines about Life…

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Spiraling into a chalice

I asked, “Why do you spiral energy only to hold on tight to solid form?”

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The struggle to hold “solid” form

“But also spiral untethered, as though reaching only for the light? Which do you prefer? How do you choose where you send your energy?”

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Spiraling free

The vine replied, “For the same reason you do. To grow.”

“But what of this tangle back to self, after the reach for light?” I asked, looking at spiral that became a knot.”

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The tangle back on self

“Because the blind search can be binding,” replied the bee gathering pollen from the sunflower.

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A divine alchemist

So I turned to the bee, “Tell me about Life.”

“Life is alchemy,” the bee replied as it gathered pollen in its arms and sipped nectar from the heart of the flower. “Life is the continual process of creation.”

“And destruction,” offered the dragonfly who would not stay long enough to be captured by the camera. “Inertia causes stagnation and confusion, until the old is broken down to form the new.”

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Tipped against Time

“But growth does not abide by time,” offered the grasshopper who looked at the sundial reading false time. “Whatever time is to you.”

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Time-hopper

“Sometimes it is rest, followed by a jump over an obstacle. Like a rock.”

“Did you say call my name?” asked the rock. “Some think of me as an obstacle. Some may even call me stuck, but even what looks like stasis is really slow movement. Even I am not in the same place where I began.”

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An illusion of stasis 

 

 

 

 

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Important Message from Keeper of Sacred White Buffalo Calf Pipe. – Chief Arvol Looking Horse

Please read this post. It is time to come together for the common good of all. It is time to right the wrongs of the past.

Make No Bones About It

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I, Chief Arvol Looking Horse, of the Lakota, Dakota, and Nakota Nations, ask you to understand an Indigenous perspective on what has happened in America, what we call “Turtle Island.” My words seek to unite the global community through a message from our sacred ceremonies to unite spiritually, each in our own ways of beliefs in the Creator.

We have been warned from ancient prophecies of these times we live in today, but have also been given a very important message about a solution to turn these terrible times.

To understand the depth of this message you must recognize the importance of Sacred Sites and realize the interconnectedness of what is happening today, in reflection of the continued massacres that are occurring on other lands and our own Americas.

I have been learning about these important issues since the age of 12 when I received the Sacred White Buffalo Calf…

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The Return of the Goddess

Yesterday I baked myself a birthday cake. A day late. It came out okay. The children and husband were polite, telling me it was “good,” but I knew they could taste what should have been there. There is a belief held by some, myself included, that the food we prepare for consumption holds the emotions we feel as we assemble it. When I took my first bite of the cake I had made for myself, because I had decided I couldn’t let the occasion pass without one, I tasted a distinct note of melancholia, if not the definitive spice of sadness.

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A not so pretty cake before the strawberry sauces was added 

Birthdays are never easy days for me. The wounded inner child comes out weeping to be nurtured, loved and adored unconditionally on this day, as well as the cloaked goddess who desires to cast aside the garment of domesticity and shine in all her glory. For at least one day. Instead, reality takes over. The hectic nature of our modern lives consumes the celebratory energy of the day, and the goddess and inner child are squeezed into the spare moments. But they are still there, waiting to be let out, and I find I can no longer deny their presence, nor do I want to.

I don’t think I am alone in my hidden, or not so hidden desires. In fact, I’m pretty sure they’re shared by most of my fellow goddesses in hiding on this planet. There was a time, you see, when the goddess was revered. The woman-as-goddess was simply an undeniable truth. There was no question of our sacred power and gifts. We were revered and honored for the divine famine energy we possessed, as well as that awesome ability to create and bring forth life.

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“Ancient” artifact of 3 goddesses – Bath, England 

I’d like to believe we are gradually coming back to this place, but we’re not there yet. I am not the only woman out there who has to occasionally bake her own cake, and buy her own flowers (yes, I did that too). And, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that. It’s a step toward honoring that inner goddess and child. It is an expression of self-love that is essential to healing the wounded spirit.

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The lovely sunflowers I bought myself

Last night I told my own daughter, who, I might add has had at least a handful of pedicures and manicures in her twelve years on this planet, while I have had one, a pedicure, in my 43 year, that life was not always like it is now. I brought back the time of the goddess and told her about how women shone in all their glory in a way that honored their power and truth. A time when we were not something to be feared, but revered.

I told her this is something that needs to be brought back, and that it can start within the home. That it is not a selfish desire. It is, quite simply essential. When we look at the world we live in, it is hard to deny that we are out of balance, and the scales have long been tipped dangerously on the side of masculine force. Notice I said force and not energy, as the true masculine energy is not forceful in its power, and it is always, ideally, balanced with the divine feminine nature that exists in all of us. We have forgotten that we are both. We have forgotten harmony and balance, and the glorious celebration of who we are. We have forgotten the need to bring forth in ourselves and others the hidden energies that lie in wait inside of us, so that we can nurture their rebirths.

The goddess within needs to be brought out. It’s high time we celebrated “her,” and revered her. It’s high time we starting using the name “Isis,” who was once celebrated as an aspect of the divine mother, in the name of love and not war.

So, you see, what I held inside and desired to come forth on my birthday this year, is an energy that exists in all of us. We all hold within us the dark and the light. The yin and the yang. The divine masculine and famine energies. And, there is always, always, the inner child waiting to come out to dance in the sun (or rain). If only for one day, but hopefully everyday.

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My children, several years ago, dancing in the rain

 

 

 

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The Unseen Sea – 4: Nine Steps to Knowing

This is why I keep going back to “school.” Probably best to start with the first post in the series here, but if you are drawn into the words below, there’s a reason…

Part Four of The Unseen Sea: adrift in the enneagram I am not equating LUCA’s enduring sense of self-protection with our own consciousness as a living, brain-possessing being, with all its co…

Source: The Unseen Sea – 4: Nine Steps to Knowing

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A few minutes on the patio

I like to forget time for at least a few moments each day. Outside, with my camera (and Zelda), I sit and watch the world unfold around me.

Zelda rolling with Joy in the sun.

Under the apple tree, I find the refuge of peace and stillness. Abundance enfolds me in a canopy of green.

Summer's green fruit ripens in abundance

Summer’s green fruit ripens in abundance.

And peaks its orange bloom past the bars of the gate. Nothing can hold it back, it seems.

The color of creation

The color of creation.

Nature, I have always found, plays the game of life much better than I do, moving easily with the unspoken rhythm.

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Bird acrobatics.

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Truth balanced on a branch.

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If you look closely, you can see the elementals zipping by.

Messages abound when we care to see them. Not everything is obvious. Sometimes we have to expand our vision and look with new eyes. That’s were the hidden gifts are found.

My eyes see the image of an owl.

My eyes see the image of an owl.

 

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Unity, Peace and Diversity: Part Two

A wonderful post about the importance of unity:

This lovely space in Glastonbury, on a damp July Sunday, became, for a magical hour or so, a place of sanctuary. I would love to think that the energy built yesterday will extend that feeling of in…

Source: Unity, Peace and Diversity: Part Two

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