Pink Coyote

Hankie the Healing Dog

You may remember him as my better half from the napcake days.  My old guy gives good snuggle.

Dismemberment

I've been reading through some of my old writings in an attempt to revisit where I have been and ponder where I might be going.  Fall isn't here yet, but it may as well be.  You wouldn't agree with me for a second if you lived in California's central valley, which goes from sunny and very hot to a bit rainy and overcast sometime about December each year.  It is in my deeper self that I sense the season changing.

September, ("Don't rush me", she seems to whisper), is my new year.  It's the month of my birth and without fail, I want to run out and start planting the garlic and all of the Fall seeds and make plans of how to percolate all of my ideas through winter (rather a joke here, but again, it's a metaphorical inner winter!) so they'll come busting through the soil in Spring.

I'm thinking about others right now, too.  I've really had my head up my own...cloud for the past year, being entrenched in the healing process.  Making room for brand spanking new mojo to come in.  I'm feeling community and gardens and round table discussions about the brilliant things that can happen when we all put our hearts together.  I'm thinking about women and babies and all of that wonderful, divine buzzing that comes with birth.

When I sat in a shaman's circle, we once did a cleansing journey in which we invited the forces of nature to dismember us in whatever way our imaginative subconscious could conjure in order to be taken apart completely, so that when we came back together, we'd leave behind the old ways that no longer fit and incorporate new energies that we needed to move forward with intention.  Some people felt their arms and legs come off with clunks or their bones disolve. Mine occured with ants and worms that swept over me like a dark, cartoon swarm and devoured every teeny cell, reducing me to a pile of dull, grey dust.  When I stood up from it, reformed, I felt freshened and ready for my new tasks.  It reminds me of the same cycles that move the moon to hide and reawaken, the sun to grow dimmer, then brighter.

Medicine

"So, to begin healing, stop kidding yourself that a little feel-good medicine of the wrong sort will take care of a broken leg. Tell the truth about your wound, and then you will get a truthful picture of the remedy to apply to it. Don't pack whatever is easiest or most available into the emptiness. Hold out for the right medicine. You will recognize it because it makes your life stronger rather than weaker".---Clarissa Pinkola Estes, WWRWTW...

...which I heart bigtime for its salvey goodness.