Pink Coyote

At Cliff's Edge

It was nine years ago last month that I took myself to Big Sur for the first time. I disorientedly rang up my friend Swirly and asked her where she loved to go when she needed space away from it all, and this is where she directed me.

I'd had a second trimester miscarriage two weeks before I phoned her and those around me were worried that I would go up there and fling myself off of a cliff. Which, interestingly enough, was where I received the healing I required to move forward in the light, and in a new kind of strength that I'd never before experienced, alone.

Traumatic and blindsiding loss made me feel as though I was standing on a precipice. I packed some art supplies and my journal, and took the curvaceous drive up the California coast to the place where artists have been taking sanctuary for a hundred years or more. In many places the road comes very close to the edge of the Earth, reminding me of my fear of heights, my stomach flipping over as I snatched glimpses of the waves crashing on the rocks below.

The room I stayed in had nothing but a bed and a bathroom. No phone, no tv, no cell service. I painted, journalled, slept long hours dreaming of this baby spirit that had chosen to gift me with this experience before gifting me with motherhood.

On my last day there, I decided to stand at the scariest edge I could find on the roadside and rage out my grief-all of it-all the way back to childhood. I recalled what I'd heard someone say about heights reflecting fear not that we will fall, but that we will jump. I wonder if, for me, it was a fear of soaring...despite what was happening in my body and in my injured soul at the time. I remember feeling a tremendous comfort-that the sea was like a big bowl, a container that could totally hear and understand my rage, my disappointment and hold my tears for me. I grew louder and bolder, and still she rocked me softly. The sea lions below barked and cheerleaded. The turkey vultures circled overhead, not in wait for me to lay down and die so they could pick at my bones, but to take from me all that would become toxic if I held it inside. The scent of sagebrush wafted up and cleansed me. I can't remember a time where I felt more held and safe. I closed my eyes and felt the rubble moving under my unsteady feet, and learned to trust for the first time in my life. Tears of rage turned to tears of gratitude for my life, for all that was possible. I felt it for the whole world.

Often I am asked how it is I came to this work-to my connection with the Earth as a healer, and to the creatures. I suppose in some part, it began with this loss, and then an emptying. The void inside of me filled with light and I felt a strange commitment to want to give back to the Earth for the gift of being held when no one could hold me. I wanted to know I could always come here as if to an altar and find my illuminated self waiting at the edge, trusting.

It was lifechanging to discover that between just she and I, a relationship existed that could keep me in the light. That every part of her was rooting for me. Crumbling, barking, splashing, crashing...daring me to live well, to thrive, to be fully expressed.

I travel back every year to revisit the cliff's edge and to reconnect with my own light. Oddly enough, it only rained that year, and I visit in January or February, ritually. Twice I've been pregnant. Every time, I am rebirthed.

Becoming a Shaman

Maria Sabina, by David Ryan.

Gotcha.

Did you think I was going to give you ten steps? Share how I became a shaman?

This is such a funny subject to me. Funny because today there is so much talk about who shamans are and what they do, what defines a shaman and the like. I'm immersed in the talk. It may be because not many of us truly know what a shaman is, or, so as not to insult the intelligence of those who do, suffice to say that care must be taken to wrap (or unwrap) one's head around the notion.

My feeble attempt to explain is that a shaman is essentially trained in the very specific and traditional methods of shamanism that are unique to indigenous tribes and cultures. By elder shamans. These healers exist in nearly every culture. They take great pains and make tremendous sacrifices to develop intense connections with the spirit realm and with their helpers and guides. And then they are asked to use that power to heal members of the tribe. Indigenous peoples attribute illness to a loss of spiritual power, and so it is up to the shaman to restore them to health with all of the tools and helpers they can call upon. Can you imagine such a responsibility?

I am not one who is qualified for this, which is probably why I'm really uptight about the word shaman. I have been blessed to have studied with a medicine woman (whom I've never heard call herself a shaman before, I wonder if she'd consider that audacious?) who lives very much like a monk or a nun and has dedicated her life to her spiritual practice and honoring her spirit helpers, to the exclusion of many things you and I would consider essential for living a modern life. I think that's why the word holds so much power for me-because I know a bit about what her life really looks like.

The very good news, however, is that anyone can have a dedicated *practice*, in which they honor the sacred every day, develop their intimate relationships with spirit guides and allies, consider the Earth and her resources as holy, drum, dance, sing, tell the stories, light the candles and fires, fast, sweat, receive the gifts that the Plant People have to offer, pray, meditate, create altars and shrines, caretake the young ones and the elders, commune with ancestors on the other side, work with sacred tools, talk to the animals, and revere life with gratitude.

This is what is sometimes referred to as a shamanic practitioner. I don't want to get all left-brain on ya'll, but you know- it helps to make clear distinctions. A great many people want to walk the path (that is made simply by walking) but have fear about what to call themselves (I vote for no labels, lest ye accept the dogma that comes with it) or fear appropriating customs. Borrowing from cultural traditions can be a very serious business, particularly here in our Native America.

A good rule of thumb, I think, (and I hope I don't have to eat these words) is that if something is practiced in many tribes or cultures, such as drumming, for example-it could be OK. Comparitively, if a friend taught you a song in his or her language, it would not be OK to share it with most folk. I sometimes have to work up the nerve just to sing them to myself, they're such a gift. It's like Grandmother's silver times a thousand. To tell you the truth, I wish I had more to offer about what is OK and what is not. Sacred practice is a very personal and intimate journey. Much must be determined by your own ethics, and then triple checked by going into the ancient well within for council.

The very best news is that this work is calling to many. It is needed in a BIG way.

We find ourselves standing at the edge of the well, having made it that far, just having heard a distant call and knowing we had to walk. We're called "seekers" and such, those who follow the faraway sounds, right? Perhaps we know that stashed away in our biology are caches of memories of how to honor the sacred. Going there will not make us...anything at all- not a holy person, not better than our brother or sister, not to be rewarded. Little that we find there will support delicate, thirsty ego.

However, we make the trips into the unknown anyway, because we didn't come to the well to stand at the edge and wish.

We came to the well to remember.

Make Your Own Releasing Bundle Instructions

I'm all goosebumpy writing this. It's with all of the energy I have that I ask the women (and maybe one or two men with heart?) who gather here to honor the Winter Solstice this year by creating a ritual at home or in circle with others in order to release what is of the dated, outmoded ways. Winter Solstice is the shortest, darkest day of the year, which holds the promise of the Light just on the other side of it. On this end, I'm calling it The Mother of All Releasings Ceremony.

If you'd like to make a releasing bundle, as I did for this season's SouLodge participants' kits, here's what you'll need:

A 5x5" square of cotton or hemp fabric

An offering of loose tobacco (I used a very small pinch of tobacco and also some white sage and lavender buds-such small amounts-a little goes a long way.)

Many tiny slips of paper to write your releasing wishes on

A natural fiber cord or string to tie it up with

1. Assemble your plant material on your square of fabric (I chose tattered black linen to represent the imperfect beings we are and also the shadow aspects)

2. Add the slips of paper that you've written what you'll be burning up and away, and roll them up nice and tiny before you add them to the pile.

3. Gather the corners up and tie tightly with hemp twine. It will look like a little ball with pointy tips, or a little black ghost if you turn it upside down.

4. When Solstice arrives on December 22nd, set aside some time and build a fire. If you do not have access to an outdoor firepit, or barbecue, you can burn it outside, in an open space, in an earthenware bowl or abalone shell. The flames will rise, so DO BE CAREFUL and take expert girl scout precautions.

Know that your sisters all around the globe are collectively releasing alongside you, and that we are a tapestry of Women who are paving the way for ourselves to move clearly and confidently from our intentions with this ceremony. Yes, please share what you feel called to at your blog and in your public spaces! I believe that the Earth is ready and willing to take on our emotional dreck and compost it up for us for new and wonderful things to be born from it. Consider making an offering to the Earth of a tiny stone or crystal to thank her for all that she carries for us.

I think it's possible to make this ceremony a biggie. One of the reasons I believe this is because I've been conversing and working with the women of Autumn SouLodge to name (privately and publicly) all that they want to let go of in order to greet 2012 and a shift into greater consciousness with clarity.

I've put my personal circle of women together and we'll be making an AWESOME video to share here to inspire women everywhere to throw the tattered aspects of being into the fire. We're all very keyed up over this and I'll be nailbiting from now until share day. My intention is to raise energy all over the world on December 22nd and make it a celebration of release. I'm seriously laughing as I write this because I feel so strongly about what we are capable of when we can alchemically transform:

Fear into Courage

Not Enoughness into Plenty                   

Old patterns of behavior into fresh responses and vulnerability           

Anger into Cleansing Breath

Sorrow into Hope

Grief into Rebirth

Loneliness into Circle and Support

Disempowerment into Confident Action

Creative Dormancy into Full Expression

Superficiality into True Being

Masks into Love of What Really Is

Shortsightedness into Eagle's Vision

Limitations into Possibility

Projections into Conscious Ownership

Stuckness into Movement

Depression into Light

Bondage into Freedom

Control into a Loose, Flexible Grasp

Obsession into Letting It Be

Anxiety into Flow

Fragmentations into Wholeness

Duality into Oneness

Shame into Acceptance of the Processes of Life

Mistrust into Trust

Judgment into Allowing

You know, the little things that keep us sitting in our own dungeons, stagnant and hungry. There's so much more to name. We've been engaging in a lot of processing around healing, voicing the truth, allowing support/asking for help/asking to be held in silence, and declaring freedoms in the Lodge, and it's been a honor to witness and hold space for the women who are tucked inside, talking, creating and working, and shaking it out. While none of us is walking around living these negative forces all of the time, when it comes time to take action, or when we stumble a bit, these shadowy aspects come rearing up like a viper to keep us inactive. Or maybe shimmying up like old, icky skeletal remains to convince us that we are powerless over that which holds us back.

Imagine if we felt held enough by the Universe, by All That Is, and could shed the old skins to allow a rebirth when the light returns...imagine if we could hold our visions for ourselves as visions for the world and see how what we do as visionary women ripples out and is in alignment with the new consciousness trying to awaken everywhere.

I'm looking forward to carrying the wood to the fire and freeing the stuck bits within myself!

Please tell me if you'll be doing this ritual or your own version of it. I'd like to carry the vision of all of us as we draw toward letting our burdens down. Continuing in the legacy of my teacher and pipe-carrier, Bear Who Dances With the Sky, I'm thrilled to honor the medicine teachings and share them with you here. So much gratitude.

Aho!

A Manifesto of Faith

Faith, 2011.

It's been a long time since I've writ a manifesto. I've been hearing a lot of fear in circulation, so here's my response. If I missed one, feel free to add it in the comments. Let's make sure to cover it all. Here goes:

 

I have faith that because I am a woman, I am a fertile, creative being.

I have faith that my wild ways are teaching me valuable lessons about loving deep, exploring the frontiers, and transcending judgment of myself and others.

I have faith that my acts of creation have a healing effect on the planet, and that I do not need to personally deliver aid to a third world country in order to spread mass seeds of goodness and beauty.

I have faith that I deserve the time to create in my unique way.

I have faith that my children will be okay when I do this.

I have faith that my partner will be okay (and not abandon me) when I do this.

I have faith that creating my works is not, nor will it ever be, a selfish act.

I have faith that when something shifts for me, and I change, my dear ones will still love and appreciate me.

I have faith in my ability to connect with Source and download inspiration from Sky, Fire, Waters, and Earth.

I have faith that I will overcome feeling guilty about taking time for myself.

I have faith that I'll get to a place where nothing will stop me from creating when I require it.

I have faith that I can clear the obstacles that stand between me and my exquisite creative life, and I am not afraid to ask for help with this.

I have faith that my creative acts can sustain me.

I have faith in my ability to find out what wants to be expressed from deep within me that is my very own.

I have faith that I'll be able to balance my spiritual creative life with my family life.

I have faith that my creative babies know how to birth themselves, that I am the carrier and the nurturer, but ultimately they have a life of their own to live, and I must give it to them.

I have faith that I will find my creative community and spiritual sisters.

I have faith that I am not Too Much, Too Big or Too Vocal.

I have faith that I am not Too Little, Too Small or Too Quiet.

I have faith that my voice and my messages are important and create vitality for others.

I have faith that the vibrant threads that are my future projects are on their way to me now.

I have faith that my work, art and life will be well supported.

In this I Trust.

 

 

Alignment

Yesterday I did some journalling to clear my head about some things-about where I want to go, about SouLodge, about all of the work that I seem to be immersed in...always. I love to work, and sometimes it's an obsession that becomes an obstacle to the higher purpose of my short life. As soon as I became clear about what it is I really want to do, you know, with my life (!) two plants, a stone and an animal came to me. I wrote them in block letters on my journal page and my mission became even more clear.

I always find it rather humorous to discover this need to realign myself. It's kind of like cleaning the dryer lint out of the tray: things/thoughts/ideas just get all clouded together and I find myself walking in circles, but not circulating meaningfully.

I bound the medicine of what it is I'm living up to in a bundle pouch, making something just for me-which is something I haven't done in years. All of this bundling for others, and none had really encompassed all that I wanted to affirm. I think this is why I'm enjoying teaching medicine-making in the Lodge so much. Only *we know* what we need the most, how to bring it all together, not leaving out important parts, when it comes to the overall vision. It's felt so right to teach women how to do this for themselves. Just a few tools and a bit of inspiration, and women are lighting up and recognizing exactly what they need! Community is so beautiful this way. Making the way back to our roots seems so easy when we realize that we're not alone...

For my personal medicine, I chose Yarrow because Matthew Wood called it "natures band-aid" and it's stuck with me ever since. I've experienced this sister as one who is like a balm on fears and ouchies and because reverence for the Earth is high on my list, I felt she needed to be in there. I'm feeling once again, overwhelmed by the amount of waste that goes out of just my home and so I'm renewing my commitment to reduce that dramatically. I've been buying used as much as possible for a long time and it's food packaging that really bums me out. So, YARROW. To keep me conscious about this beautiful place that nourishes us from birth and takes us back at the end of our lives so graciously.

I chose Coyote, which is no major surprise, but when I took inventory of my values, I saw how important this tricky one is. Bringing so much laughter and humor to my life lessons, I've become utterly dependent on the ultimate survivalist who travels fearlessly everywhere, adapting like no other. Coyote connects us all with her warm magic, her foibles, her humility. She parades her right to life in and around the hills, on the shores, and right on the city streets. I truly don't know where I'd be without this companion by my side.

Rose quartz is in there, because the deeper I get into the bones of myself I realize that love is the only thing that matters, and noticing every day that we are more ONE than we are not, this was an easy choice. Healing the world, one heart at a time.

Tobacco is there for gratitude and an offering to Spirit for making this life possible and awakened.

And Butterfly Bush literally called me from across the yard for Beauty and the sweet aroma of existence. Abundantly, she grows and feeds butterflies, skippers, bees, and hummingbirds, expanding her reaches over my neighbors fence and beautifying even his junk pile. She attracts the best- her beautiful equals in the quest for nectar- and I know my life has this blessing on it, too.

I added a couple of other things which I'm keeping secret because superstitious rumor has it that one is not supposed to reveal everything in one's magic satchel. It seems in keeping with the feminine to carry a bit of mystery with us at all times.

The beautiful bundle pouch was made by my sacred sister, Lauren, who creates medicine bags and all kinds of delicious goodies, while nursing her month old baby boy and unschooling her bright light of a daughter. Her store is a bit less abundant than usual, because I am taking many of her medicine items to Squam with me in two weeks to share them on vendor night. I had to have first pick and chose the above pictured pouch to put all of my items into. She inspires me to walk with more reverence, always.

Blessings to you as you find your way, dear sisters.

Unbound

 

Last night I did a healing on myself at bedtime. I had an old, old issue I needed to experience some more release with and I have a trick I use to perform soul retrieval on myself with (which those of you who are in the SouLodge will get to work with), because sometimes when I need to do some deep inner healing, I don't have time to schedule an appointment with a local practitioner and wait for it. It may require more assistance and deeper work with a trusted healer later, but to begin, I just needed to get the work moving.

As often is the result, I felt a big shift and the thing that was triggering me had a lot less energy behind it. What I think is miraculous is that we get to a point where we are capable of doing much work ourselves. I love to go outside of myself for feedback and help, bodywork, acupuncture, therapy, power conversations within my phone tribe...I've loved the tools I've been able to gather through all of the work I've found myself smack in the middle of, sometimes when I least expected it. Last night's retrieval left me feeling pretty open and clear.

First thing today, I got caught up in a conversation online about labels, judgement, politics, and fear, (and Dennis Hopper, who I never knew spent some time as  Republican, but as the story goes, was both radical and dynamic at the same time. I don't know why I was surprised, knowing wild him). On the heels of my last post, I figured it wasn't an accident that I'd landed here. The powers that be have a strange way of testing me faster than I can say, "One Love".

The messages coming through on many levels is that I'm not comfortable being in boxes, and neither were the women I was having the discussion with, though I got that we're probably polar opposites in the voting booth. Who knows? Maybe not. I didn't give a damn. I wasn't going to sit there under old previous umbrellas and see our differences. I consciously sought to see where we were the same. It wasn't hard to come from an honest place and feel comfortable without being accomodating. And they were doing it, too. It was enlightening and liberating on many levels. Not to go there-to differences. What purpose would it have served?

I've called myself all kinds of things in order to try to get to know myself better, to draw people toward me or distance them from me. This evolution that is taking place, for so many of us collectively, is that when we stand in our power as women, we don't need those ill-fitting garments anymore to protect us. We can trust that if we eat a piece of bacon we won't slide down a slippery slope and become dietarily irresponsible, or environmentally unconscious if we don't by a hybrid vehicle. The need to prove and appear put together- of value to onlookers - starts to wane as our hairs gray and fight for more precious real estate up there where all of the thinking goes on. Surrender to coming of middle age, hence accepting the staff of emotional maturity isn't as grim as it sounds. Think of Georgia O' Keefe, how even in her white-haired days, which is how most of us remember her, she was a wild, free Woman. And naked! She was beautifully unbound.

Many of us have our feet on varying stones of this meditative walk to getting clear, but one thing seems certain: It seems we are willing to become even more comfortable with who we are. There is no need to qualify our choices, offer disclaimers for the shape our homes are in, do it all right in the outer world, get the thumbs up for our casseroles.

There is bigger work to be done in the inner world, which in turn manifests more boldly in the outer. It's a long process, and each time the road rises up, I find I'm ready to meet it. When a piece of me feels like it's gone missing, I want to go back and rescue it and bring it back in, my way.

This old Earth moves and evolves so slowly, so patiently, rhythmically. My hope is that we can learn to be kind during our transitions, as she is. That we can create with intention and purpose, but without expectation to look like something that others might find agreeable. It's not about being ambivalent about what others think-rather it's putting what a woman thinks about *herself* first.

Ours is the heart we have to heal.

No ribbon, please.

 

Fractional People With One Connected Heart

I had a completely different post planned for today, but things change.

I used to hang with a peculiar woman when I lived high in the mountains who told such good and long-winded stories, all at a mile a minute. One day when we happened upon each other spontaneously, as folks do in small villages, we spent the afternoon doing a tour of the many park benches in the village while her kids ran wild and we rubbed our big, fat pregnant bellies. We were due a week apart, me with Miles, and she with her baby girl. We were seeing the same midwife and had lots to review.

We got onto the subject of our ethnicities, which are both a typical American mix of a little bit of everything. I told her that I was a percentage of Native American and she told me that she was part, too. She threw back her head and guffawed her full, open-mouthed, potent laugh, and made a very good point about being only a fraction of a person. About her people being counted as a three fifths of a person to gain electoral seats. About how we were all once considered a fraction rather than a whole. At some point in time, she wagered confidently, "even white folk".

We made particularly female conversation that day, about feeling whole, walking whole, shaking off the notions that our little pieces really mattered at all. While both of us felt proud and connected to our heritages, and the trials our specific family stories spoke to, we decided then and there, babies in bellies, that we would not walk the road as a fraction. That we would embrace all. We recognized the suffering of all peoples at different times in history and opened our hearts in the clean mountain air to the teachings that any person would bring. To break the generational legacies of suffering, by leaving our own comfortable, familial stereotypes behind in order to truly open ourselves to healing, and pass that down to our children. It was a mothers' pact to expand our collective heartspace. In a strange way, it felt like setting our ancestries free on the wild wind so we could really experience connection to one love.

I heard that she had her baby at home about a week after I gave birth to Miles at home. We've not run into each other since I moved down the hill, but these lessons we shared I'll treasure forever. I don't think I even absorbed the full effect of our conversation until the last year or so. Finally trusting the truth of how we want to live this gift of life seems not unlike tree roots finding their way to a water source so deep that they no longer need to be fed by a hose.

We are all native to some place. The ancestors behind us all came from some connected people, and seem to share uncanny aspects of ritual and ceremony. Doing this work touches that sacred place, where we who love the Earth remember that time. The time before differences, before so many colors, shapes and sizes began to pull us apart from each other's hearts. It's a lovely time to be alive and to see the sameness.

To see the same full moon from each village and city around the globe.

To feel the heartbeat of the Earth and know that it is the Mother Beat, the one we all share.

 

 

Council

Desktop helpers.

Summer finds me less at my computer, outside more. Less at the stove, more at the fruit stand. Less in my mind, more in my heart, my feet. This is the first week since coming home from Squam that I feel grounded. Teaching brings me such a high that I found myself floating and unable to let go of my experiences there and come seamlessly back to work here.

I asked myself before I came to writing a) what it is that I am processing, and b) who is helping me. If I know what I need, then I can ask for what I want, right?

It has been a very long time that I have felt like I do my inner work alone, probably ever since I took my first journey and aligned with my first totem animal, who would lead me into the Under World to sift among the messages my unconscious landscape had to show me. My first totem was Spider, black widow, to be exact. And she spun her silky thread around my wrist and took me through a portal that I recognized as a place I played at as a child, a grassy hill full of squirrel holes and treasures such as the first owl pellet I would pick apart and find tiny mouse bones and bits of fluff in.

The creatures have always been here for me, teaching me, guiding me, sharing their secrets of the natural world, blessing me with a quick glance at them as they cross the road in front of me, calling me inward to lead me to the places I needed to go to find peace. So, perhaps they've been helping me since long before that first journey in.

One thing that we are all connected by is that we live on Earth, here with her creatures-communing and sharing space in a way that we can all relate, regardless of where we come from, or what our spiritual beliefs are. Some animals ground us on the planet, while others take us up into the Upper World to seek messages from the heavens and energies outside of us. They have so much to show and teach us, simply by how they have adapted, survived and thrive here.

What I want to share of myself most is this process I have come to love, trust, and also hardwire within me. I have yet to suss out all of the details of an effective way to do this in my virtual community, but I'm working steadily on it. The effect of sitting in a circle in person is difficult to re-create online. I want to connect with my circle's processes, in the way that I have when I've worked on custom medicine bundles and artwork, to bring the healing and the words in a way that shares tools, points you toward your own unique tools and totems, to assign creative projects in which you use your intuition to guide you (as I do in my workshops), and give you the support you need to discover the insights you seek, to share rituals, ceremony, and ways to care for your tools.

I want to get an idea about the interest in this, as I go about discovering the best way to create the circle. Will you share with me if you'd like to do something such as this? To answer my first questions, this is what I'm processing, and it is your help I need to get to where I'm going.

It Takes Instagram. I Mean a Village!

I came down with some kind of wicked tummy bug last weekend and it just about ruined a perfectly good week. An appointment with my acupuncturist determined that I must take copious amounts of "cleansing" herbal tea pills. The drama and pain was soon over and I felt much better in no time.

Still, I had to cancel a date on Friday with a friend, which we made up for with a two-hour phone call full of all kinds of catching up and also, Big Plans. Then, I consoled myself further by purchasing iPhones for Brandon and I, and got immediately sucked into the drug-like, cosmic vortex known as Instagram. Before I get caught up in singing it's praises, I want to make sure you know how to find me: pixiecampbell. I know that many of you do not do Instagram, so here are some of my weekend captures:

  Unsuspecting victims of my new toy.

It's an addiction, really, and it came at the perfect time, when I suddenly needed yet another distraction.

However, the really big news is not that I've come late to the iPhone party. The really spectacular news that I've been holding on to for weeks is that we are making a gentle transition out of California's Central Valley. And down and over to California's Central Coast.

It's a dream come true for us.

And we thought we already lived where the food comes from.

We'll be moving over the course of the year, with Brandon heading down first to begin working in his new position, and the children and I will follow no later than year's end. I have a project I have to finish up here, so we'll be visiting him mid-week for a few days and he'll be back on the weekends. It sounds crazy, but this is the kind of thing we're apt to do when we're co-creating magic with the universe. Now I have to tell you about magical Ojai.

Ojai is a lovely little art town nestled in the Ojai Valley, surrounded by the Los Padres National Forest, about twenty minutes from the seaside, and 40 minutes south of Santa Barbara. It was a very easy YES for us. An opportunity for Brandon presented itself and we've been trying on all of the possibilities and proceeding thoughtfully, knowing full well that if we could make it work, we would. We've loved our visits there and it's been on our dream list for ages.

The residents have fruit trees and magnificent gardens all over their yards, and local food is served in many of the restaurants, and sold in the beautiful marketplaces.

Ojai is one of those little villages that's very community-rooted, nature-absorbed, active, and peaceful. It has a lovely consciousness about it, with art and music at every turn, great schools for Miles and Ivy, and room for us to expand our hearts and our visions. Plus it's laid back, lush, and freaking BEAUTIFUL.

It's funny, we moved to Bakersfield over four years ago with every intention of leaving as soon as possible. Only in the last year or so, have I had to cut my hometown some slack. Things have been working very well here for us. Being here has given me an opportunity to experience many much-needed healings with my parents, and I knew when I came here my feet would be to the fire about that. But as I've softened and opened, so have they, and the work I came here to do with them has reached completion for now.

This home has been a safehaven. This crazy valley has unexpectedly been a place of healing, renewal, courage, possibility. My parents have given us so much support, helping us to create a home for our children and build something lovely for our family.

And the Universe! Something I learn time and again is that I suffer when I want something before it's time. This has been another teaching in surrender, loving what is in front of me, and doing the work I am meant to do. I am learning deeply, on so many levels, what it means to trust that all change comes just at the right time. That there is no need to push the Earth through her orbit by obsessing. That the wheel is turning all by itself. It's also a lesson in naming what I want in detail, and then stepping back, letting go, and confidently honoring my deepest human intent while it unfolds in right time. That's my job, and it's all I can do.

I love this world. I love this experience of being alive. Not because I am lucky or things are going our way, but because it teaches me. It teaches me to trust.

 

 

Art for Alabama

Jamie Ewald and Jamie Mitchell have created Art for Alabama, an online Facebook auction which runs from today until next Saturday, May 28th. If you do not have a Facebook account, but would like to bid, I would be happy to bid on your behalf.

The mission statement for AfA reads, Art for Alabama is a non profit auction page set up to benefit those Alabamians affected by the tornadoes on Arpil 27, 2011. All proceeds will be donated to the Alabama Red Cross Disaster Relief for Countless Crises.

I first met Jamie Ewald at Squam Art Workshops in 2009, when she was in the very beginning stages of growing her beautiful family. We talked a bit about babes and art, combining the two, as I carried my six-month-old Ivy around for most of the retreat. I hoped our paths would cross again.

The tornadoes that blew mercilessly through the South last month destroyed hundreds of lives and homes.The spirit of hope and rebuilding from the ground up is nothing less than awe-inspiring. Like many natural disasters that have occured in the last two years, I felt called to help somehow, but hadn't yet discovered how.

When I read Jamie's request for art I knew in that exact instant what piece I would donate to Art for Alabama. It seemed to tie directly to a tremendous letting go (shedding of the chrysalis), and creating this painting was part of the early phases of a release I have experienced in the past year. Giving the painting to her cause seemed like the most natural fit for the process to me, and the final giveaway in this Phoenix-like process. I'd also begun the year with an intention to find ways to be more altruistic with my work, and it would seem as though the perfect opportunities have found me.

My hope is that someone who is welcoming their own period of life-altering Transformation will embrace this painting and welcome in a beautiful metamorphosis of their own...

Transformation, 2011. Mixed-media acrylic on board.

Butterfly is shown perched, wings fully open, on a building known for it's batlike qualities. This piece is about life altering transformation and the integrating the light that emerges after exploring the darkness within. Butterfly medicine is about finding oneself practically liquefied as changes that often defy logic are occurring within. While the outer skin seems the same as it always was to onlookers, inside of the caterpillar, a new skin is growing. There is very little movement while the transformation is taking place. One might feel as though everything around her is moving in slow-motion, while sensitivities are sharpening. When metamorphosis is complete and the golden chrysalis falls away, the adult Butterfly emerges and sits still to allow her delicate wings to harden and the magic to assimilate. Once she feels her strength return, nothing will stop her from experiencing the beautiful flowers and sweet nectar that inspire her precious life.

 

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Human beings are really wired to bond around shared adversity. So use that remarkable power to connect and imagine and work together for the greater good, for the community. That’s what we’re all living for. -Daniel Wallach

Terra Incognita

Seems I've been a pioneer since the day I was born. One of my grandparents' teachings, by way of their legacy of migrant farmworking, is learning to trust the unknown. The thought of it makes so many of us shrink back. An old medieval cartography term used was HIC SVNT DRACONES, or "Here be dragons".

The worst of the beasts, of course, are found in my mind, and so creating a habit of dismissing them to pasture seems to help me put one brave foot in front of the other.

I feel surrounded by heart-expansionists everywhere; how can anyone feel alone with this sense of collective courage? Now that so much of the outer world has been discovered, claimed...flagged, the next level is goldmining that fourth chakra. Testing it's colors.

Violet Flame, by Laurie of primalpainter.

I sat down to write about expansionism, about growing my vision as an artist, taking on homeschooling, moving into a studio space downtown...I generally come here to share what's going on in my head and heart, but I think what wants to be shared is simply the potential for the human heart to grow.

I wrote last about squeezing through the eye of a needle, and let me tell you, I did not see that coming. I'd put some layers of protection around my heart over the years regarding a very tender matter and I really never saw it coming off. I didn't see it needing to come off. I envisioned moving forward, but with these petals wrapped securely around. Some of the feelings were of disappointment, fierce independence, heartache, closed doors, lack of connection, soul loss, impossibility, doneness, fear, (I'm getting all weepy as I go through them) guardedness. I had not been specific about what I wanted for many years, and the universe and I were experiencing some static in our transmissions to each other. I'd sacrificed something I hadn't intended to by not being clear, and my heart showed me that it was hurting because of it. Hearts tell us everything we need to know, of course, but they can be so softspoken, lost among the brain's loud directives, in my case.

I'm still in a sort of shock about how the wind suddenly changed direction as soon as I named what I wanted out loud. All I'd been clutching had to burn to the ground right in front of me. That catalog of grievances had become part of me, comfortable, familiar. I unconsciously didn't want to release them, because they would take my protection with them when they left. But I wasn't meant to walk through life armored, even in rose petals or a really awesome poncho. I believe I am meant to risk more and that requires naked vulnerability. Each day I practice, I become a bigger fan of it. I do feel raw, and I do have to assess whether to put on a very temporary cloak in order to pass through a doorway, but it's as if I've already decided to immediately remove it once I'm through. Is this making any sense or am I just being too damn cryptic?

Walking into and through the unknown is a very personal and private frontierism. Dragons, lions...they are all still here breathing hotly at me. I am not fearless. What I want to say is that I am going forward in my life with a host of wonderful things-amazing creations and new space that I can't wait to share with you.

But what is flowing out today from my bubbling stream of consciousness is the message that will perhaps be woven into a more colorful story someday, one of dropping all that covers my heart in order to be green. Willingly ignorant.

Blissfully foolish.

Wild.

 

 

Turn to the Harp

There was a time when I was all about doing it right. When I had no other tools other than thinking it through, writing it down, hashing it out, forming opinions, making a decision and going for, or against it.

Again with this turning forty business- is it just me? Or is there a whole life that exists between the lines of logic?

photo by Terri Fischer.

Outside of helping my business test it's wings, paying the DMV their dues, and occasionally checking on my children's hygeine, I find myself hanging onto reason by a neglected thread. Books with decidedly un-western tales of where the divine feminine is hiding seek me out, and it is into these realms that I sail, diving deeper than ever into the place where there is no push, and even fewer answers.

When one side of human nature grows out of balance with the other, it becomes a tyranny on the soul. That is the tyrant Duke Morgan. It drives its complimentary opposite into the unconscious. That is Blanchefleur. But the unconscious will not tolerate this kind of imbalance; we have already learned that the greatest force in the psychic universe is the demand for completion, for wholeness, for balance. The feminine will return. Across the seas, Iseult is waiting. And when Iseult comes, the self-satisfied patriarchal world will never be the same.   --WE, Robert Johnson.

I read a thread of opinions recently that brought into sharp focus how removed I'm becoming from...well, strong opinions! As odd as that may sound. I did not even know how to respond or chime in. I think I would have had plenty to say about a subject like this a few years ago, but I checked in with myself and came up with...yep, nothing.

I'm not trying to come up with nothing. I'm really not. I see myself as having been overidentified with my own inner masculine (animus) for so long, that though I'm not trying to reject this part of myself- but rather bring it into balance with my healthy feminine aspects- at this point in time I have very little use for it. Perhaps because I'm gestating a big project? Maybe. It's quite like being pregnant again and reminds me of how ambivalent I've felt, even at election times-which used to get a hot rise out of me before I had children.

When we moved to the Central Valley of California four years ago, I was full of fear. It was all my rednecked, oil-field laden, pesticided, anti-creative, dustbowl nightmares come true. But something strange has happened, as I've come to realize that where I live is more like the rest of the world than the hidden hippie mountain communities I wish I lived in. What I think I'm learning is that the world needs the kind of healing that isn't happening through politics or lobbying. What I'm learning is that I'm surrounded by people who WANT to heal and who ARE healing, despite appearances that have long left me feeling suspiciously otherwise. Perhaps this is why I don't have many opinions anymore. Basically, I've learned that I don't know shit. *Logically* know.

On another level completely, the deepest recesses of Self that we can touch inside of us, a marriage is trying to take place. The lost and knowing feminine is calling up, and she is dark, mysterious, silent, and ocean wave-like. She is transmuting poison, transforming shadows, applying the salves of the ancients, reminding us that to begin in our own injured hearts is to allow the medicine to trickle out effortlessly. It requires a kind of trust that has, in the past, made me very uncomfortable, because I am a big ole control freak. I've had trouble having faith that I'm protected from within. But I think I'm getting it now. The control freak seems to be a one dimensional warrior who misses his queen and is drenched in longing for her to rejoin him. She is Deep Trust, and she is Unwavering Faith, and she has been all but missing for the first half of my life.

No wonder I'm so eager to embrace her.

Each of us needs the sword power. There are times when we need to be logical and analytical. At times, we must be assertive and strong. But there are also times when neither logic nor force will avail; then we need to turn to the harp.  --WE, Robert Johnson.

 

photo by Stacy de la Rosa.

Rascally Raccoon

RACCOON

This bundle is about using cleverness, dexterity, positive energy, intelligent skill and disguise to harness the wealth of possibility in front of you. Raccoon is tricky and nocturnal, humor his inspiration. Raccoon realizes that it can be “Mine! All mine!”, while maintaining healthy compassion for others.

It contains:

*a pinch of organic tobacco, as a traditional offering to the Spirits.

*cinquefoil, or five finger grass is here to sharpen the focus on the things that matter most: love, health, prosperity, protection and power. some of these things, we tend not to prioritize until we come to a crossroads in life where no action but that which builds us up to our potential will do. cinquefoil is used as a magical charm for luck and positive spells. but i think of it as a herb which helps eliminate those things which are no longer important, which prove as obstacles for our completion. it is associated with the flow of chi, and the liver, the filter organ and great eliminator. it's five leaves or "fingers" seem to act as a hand of destiny, healing transgressions and giving a nudge of support. Like Raccoon, it's skillful, dexterous, little fingers make acquisition a cinch.
It is often reminisced that during medieval times, the five leaves of the cinquefoil symbolized the body’s five senses. Its image was highly sought by knights, who were only permitted to display the plant on their shields if they’d demonstrated mastery over themselves and showed self-awareness.

*highly scented (and sensual) cloves warm the mind up to receive information and tuck it away for future use. they stimulate the application of what has been received in the dreamtime or spirit work. clove buds evolve from a light cream color, to a bright green and then a vibrant red just before blooming, at harvest time. this is akin to Raccoon's ability to shapeshift. cloves are used in protection spells and serve the medicine of this bundle well by offering the camouflage of the mask when necessary. cloves are an alterive herb, and will assist the mind and body with making the permanent or temporary changes needed in order to meet with success.

Red Clover is seen in Britain as a charm of good fortune. It is thought to bring “good health, wealth and a faithful lover.” The three-lobed trifolium represents the three branches of learning: Bard, Ovate & Druid. “Living in clover” is an old phrase that indicates possibilities of long-held dreams coming true. Considered a magical plant throughout Ireland, Beltane and seasonal equinoxes are popular harvest times for the green leaves. In the medieval period, the “humble leaf” had become a symbol of both wordly and divine true love.

Hematite is a strong, reflective and magical stone. It grounds, protects, and harmonizes out of body experiences-important to the medicine of this bundle in which deeper realms will be accessed. It protects the soul as it journeys outward, slightly vulnerable as it seeks sacred messages and experiences. It brings attention to the unfulfilled desires that are driving life. It boosts self-esteem, and survivability, enhances willpower and reliability, and imparts confidence. This stone removes self-limitations and aids expansion. Hematite helps you to come to terms with mistakes and to accept them as learning experiences rather than disasters. Mentally, hematite stimulates concentration and focus. It enhances memory and original thought. It helps to sort out technicalities which have become obstacles over time. It also strengthens and regulates the blood supply, regenerates tissue, treats leg cramps, and relieves anxiety and insomnia. Hematite opens the door for you to go get the job done.

In this application, Raccoon uses the positive aspects of his Mask to become something he is not, or is not yet. He knows when to share information with others and when to hold it close. His mystery becomes magic when used thoughtfully and with good intentions. A little Merlin, he is an expert at disguise and secrecy. Raccoon is a powerful animal when change is sought. He can thrive in any environment, making his dreams attainable if he will but name and pursue them. Working under the cover of night, the nocturnal wizard finds tools for transformation in unexpected places. Shamanic journey, active imagination and work with the dreamtime can produce magical results when practiced diligently, and with care and reverence for the medicine. Raccoon's tricky nature can commit to this work, by making personal growth a fun and thrilling puzzle to be solved. As his dexterous fingers pick the locks of the soul's desires, wisdom and booty are uncovered with glee. At his best, Raccoon does not hide who he really is. Rather, he sets himself up for success, and follows through without revealing his methods unless it serves him. Raccoon people can avoid becoming overly secretive, isolated and surly in old age by being social and having fun with their friends. Deep change is inspired by what Raccoon discovers when he is out of his comfort zone, exploring and seeking treasure.

 

Seeing as how I've been too busy to write, I figure I may as well share with you what I've been working on that's been keeping me from here! Raccoon was a very fun and wily character to work with. I had no idea what he ws going to reveal. This was a custom bundle for someone very close to me. I'm so grateful to be able to do this work! Do I sound like a broken record yet?

 

Deep Magic

This magic has taken me to places I've never been as a healer. I wanted to call it Kicking Cancer's Ass, but decided against it. But you know from where I'm coming...

TURKEY VULTURE and COYOTE

The medicine of this bundle is about transmuting disease and balancing the body during a health crisis. It employs Turkey Vulture's willingness to work deeply in the trenches to rid the environment of disease, toxins and waste. It calls upon Coyote for vitality, adaptability and humor during the long process of treatment and healing.

It contains:

A pinch of organic tobacco, a traditional offering to the Spirits.

A pinch of cornmeal to create a sacred container for the elements to reside in.

Black tourmaline is protection from negative energy, particularly that of radiation, electromagnetism, and environmental toxins. It grounds, while increasing physical vitality. It encourages a positive attitude, no matter the circumstances and defends against disease. It strengthens the immune system, provides pain relief and stimulates creativity. I've called upon it in this application to create healthy cell growth and as a powerful protector against cancer treatments and drug side effects.

Black kyanite is tied to the top of this bundle and I was struck by it's wing shape after I was directed to ask Turkey Vulture to work this medicine. Kyanite is a spiritual mineral which connects an individual to their higher selves during a time of transition. Kyanite dispels blockages, anger, stress, fear, and encourages truthful self-expression. It heals infection and restores Qi to the physical body and organs.

Sugilite is a wise and loving stone that I like to think of as the gentle existentialist. It protects the soul from shocks, trauma, and disappointment. I brings light and love into the darkest situations. It aids forgiveness, and helps resolve group dynamics difficulties. Sugilite promotes deep understanding, alleviation of emotional turmoil and channels healing energy into the body, mind and spirit. The manganese in sugilite clears discomfort, relieves pain and purifies lymph and blood.

Yarrow is known as nature's bandaid, able to heal the deepest wounds. In this application, and according to Matthew Wood, yarrow "is suited to conditions where the mind is sometimes dim or restless,” or in some cases a bit numb from the lack of connection to what we most value about life. Yarrow will help you find your way back to singing in the garden, reconnecting with the Earth and the Plant People with the sun on your back when healing has taken place.

Nettles break down mucous in the body, cleans the organs of the first through third chakras, relieves joint pain and allows gravel and waste to pass easily through the elimination systems. Matthew Wood describes nettles as a stern Grandmother, using a whip or a broom to hustle things along, keep them moving and commanding action. For some reason I can hear her giving orders in Spanish and keeping everyone in line. Wood explains that nettles' extremely high levels of protein articulates nitrogenous waste products into proteinacious structures. They remove uric acid waste by working with complicated building blocks to build some of the most complicated molecules used by the body. Nettles are the most protein-rich green growing native in the west.

Red clover cleans the blood and detoxifies. It breaks up coagulated blood and relieves lymphatic congestion. It is known as a second chance remedy and is indicated in cancer treatments because of it's abilities to dissolve that which swells the glands, and stores excess calcium.

Vulture is purification, and an unsung hero for keeping environments clean and disease-free. Oft misunderstood, Native Americans see Turkey Vulture as one who restores harmony, limiting infection and bacteria, a tremendous force of balance for the Earth. She uses her energy wisely and gracefully, catching thermals and soaring with ease, rather than expending precious energy flapping. She is a patient matriarch, with highly developed intuition and powerful healing abilities. Her digestive tract contains chemicals that kill violent, infectious bacteria, allowing her to transcend ingested toxins and use only what is necessary to her purpose of survival. Ted Andrews writes that “Vulture is a promise that the suffering of the immediate is temporary and necessary, for a higher purpose is at work, even if not understood at the time. In my own healing journey, Turkey Vulture has always existed as an affirmation of life, and often of the rebirth that follows a major life event or trauma.

A Coyote claw is included in this bundle. Coyote is tricky, funny, and adaptable. He offers you his companionship, his celebratory howl, his wit, and teachings of life as they appear without warning. He is the wise and bumbling fool, on a new journey, sometimes learning things the hard way. What makes Coyote such a spectacular companion on what can sometimes feel like a hayride to hell, is his humor. There is magic in his ways, as he gets lost on side roads, scavenges for nourishment wherever he can find it, and amuses himself along the way. Coyotes are very close with their loved ones, snuggling in the den, and cooperatively hunting and parenting. They are nurturing, playful and spirited. Wild, free and never to be extinct, his lesson is one of endurance, longevity and a fulfilled life of meaningful song and dance. Coyote is, in many ways, invincible.

Making Magic

There are so many ways to do it. For Ivy, it's Clover Stirfry.

 

For me, it's embracing healing, changing energy.

 

For Miles, it's creating beauty.

 

How do you make magic?

Plants and Stones

It has been a full few days. Sunday, I tinctured with Grandmother Nettles well into the night. I'm going to do a seperate post on making the mother tinctures, because it deserves it's own post. I will say that I loved being up late making magic like a kitchen witch on the night of New Moon while all lay quiet in the house.

Monday I had a little minor surgery in the morning and came home all shot out of the gate, and sat in bed with my laptop ordering supplies and returning emails. Not even the pain pills keep me down, and I say this with no pride.

I needed to replenish many stones I'd run out of, plus charms, deerskin, and of course, along the way I fell in love with some new ones. I'm making a custom bundle for someone with Stage 4 Lymphoma and this black kyanite wing appeared and tapped me on the shoulder...this thing is incredible, I can hardly put it down.

Bornite, also called peacock ore, is my new love. It is a supercharged positive mineral associated with pure joy and spinning the chakras to a blissful tune.

The wisteria is in full flower, making our arbor smell heavenly.

Miles discovered the biggest clover we've ever seen...

...and presented me with a sunny day bouquet.

I'm working heavily with the birds again, having begun three paintings tonight-the first since January! I could feel that quiet settle over me...I've missed it so much. Big birds. Hawks. Eagles. Griffin. Phoenix. Turkey Vulture. Raven. They are swooping in and removing, building, hatching, rebirthing...doing the work they're so good at.

Who's rapping at your chamber door?

Once Upon a Nettle

If you are my Facebook "friend" you may be right tired of hearing the word nettles. I have become an absolute fanatic about them, considering that they are growing wild all over our back property and in full season right now. There has been many a lively discussion about what to do with them and how to endure their prickly, welty stings in order to come to know the one known as the little Grandmother with a broom who comes in and gets to work moving things along.

Today I collected her leaves three times for three cups of tea, for the sinus infection I'm suffering. I just picked the leaves and some of the tops and stuffed them into a mug about half-way to the top, and then poured boiling water over them. I picked them fresh each time to make sure that the life and energy of the plant was at it's peak. The first cup was very clearing and satisfying, and I used a neti pot afterward with great success. I chomped her wilty leaves from the bottom of my cup. The sting leaves the plant after about 3 minutes after being picked when the acid in the needles loses it's mojo.

Nettles contain more protein than any other native green, her claim to fame being breaking down uric acid lickity split, having a curative effect on kidney conditions, mucus in the intestines, and gout. She attacks mucus like a crimefighting ninja superhero and I've had better luck with her than with any other herb. She loves to grow around junk heaps, where the soil is unfavorable, making gold out of the worst conditions. I consider her an alchemist. The possibilities of her use are endless. Matthew Wood tells a story of a man with no feeling in his legs flogging them with nettles and regaining feeling, allowing him to walk again. Isn't that wild?

When I harvested tonite, under the starlit sky, I was alone and in no hurry, so I took my time talking to her, listening, I sang her a native song, peed nearby as an offering, and thanked her, promising to bury some crystals and medicine near her roots with the children tomorrow.

I love how the kids are learning to respect her, though her sinister needles have impaled them mercilessly. They seem to be appreciative of the gifts that plants give us, and Miles has noticed that she springs up for free, with no effort at all, every Spring. As he prepares to plant his vegetable garden, I see him lingering near the wild dandelions, lying in the flowering clover, inspecting the weeds. I wonder if he is curious about cultivated plants versus wild ones. I hope he asks me why they're both important. I think he'll figure it out on his own...

Medicine Bundle Bender

I made a record number of bundles for the shop this weekend, because they seem to go so fast, and it requires a lot of set up just to make a few.  It was a bit crazy in this studio with so many creatures running wild at once. My hope is that you'll find what you're looking for in and amongst the herd. There are only a couple of them that didn't make it into this batch.

I'm also making lots of custom bundles behind the scenes, and it is keeping me as busy as a springtime Bee. I can't yet explain how fulfilling it is to work with some of you personally. As you entrust me to discover combinations of allies to help bring in the energies and changes you're seeking, I can't help but feel totally overwhelmed with gratitude for what I do.

Sending out a grateful hug to the world today. You are beautiful as you journey this winding road, gathering your tools, opening up to your deeper Self.

Hummingbird

I have been inundated with custom work since opening myself up to doing it. It takes so much time, but oh my goddess...it's so fulfilling. Each one is a crash course in doing a reading for someone, and making relationships between allied plants, stones, animals and energies to create a little healing companion, basically-one who manifests movement and change, in addition to acting as salve on the wounds that prevent us from going forward.

I want to share this one with you, because it really has opened my heart.

HUMMINGBIRD

*The medicine of this bundle is about the patient healing of the heart, releasing negative energy, and the art of gentle and focused movement. It teaches how to appreciate the beauty in every moment.


It contains:

A pinch of organic tobacco, a traditional offering to the Spirits.

A chunk of sweetgrass is for purification of negative opinions, sweet positive vibrations, a pleasant relationship with the Self, and as a prayer for healing. Sweetgrass serves as a reminder of the eternal and spiritual beauty within us all.

St. Johns Wort is for chronic conditions of pain, nervous exhaustion, emotional depression, stress, anxiety and fear. In cases of nerve trauma and myalgias, it calms the cycle that creates persistent dis-ease.

Milk Thistle is primal and detoxifying nourishment. It self-seeds with it's light, fluffy seedheads, spreading healing everywhere it goes. Milk thistle is a medicinal food. It breaks down bile, decongests the liver, and clears out obstructions. It is used for melancholy and despondency, targeting emotions of the spleen, which is commonly associated with anger and frustration. It lingers in the 3^rd chakra, or power center to help with eliminative functions and processing of toxins. It is a herb which is indicated in serious cases where a patient is seriously ill or facing death. It's claim to fame is curing various types of poisonings.

Raw emerald is for infinite patience and protection. The Crystal Bible says that emerald is the stone of successful love, that it is life-affirming, keeps a partnership in balance, and brings about domestic bliss and loyalty. This could mean with a literal partner or within. It opens the heart chakra, calms the emotions, eliminates negativity, enhances psychic abilities, and opens us to clairvoyance. It is a protective stone which strengthens the character to overcome the misfortunes of life. It is helpful in cases of claustrophobia and enhances the ability to live life to the fullest.

Hummingbird has flown into this bundle to demonstrate his brilliant technique of hovering above a situation to observe the beauty of it. He drinks the nectar of life from every possible flower, never missing an opportunity to experience the sweet beauty of his world. His flight, though rapid in wing movement, is gentle and fairy-like, bringing magic to the bird kingdom with his uniqueness. He comes to remind us in times of hardship that we can always see beauty, we just have to look a bit harder than when we are literally surrounded by it at all times. His movement is energized, focused, and calculated. He promises to be with us when it is most difficult to appreciate the NOW. While forward movement is guaranteed, Hummingbird specializes in the beauty of the present moment.

 

 

Vlog Sacred Tools: Gratitude

 

I've made another video, this time while daytripping at my favorite beach here in California, Rincon Point. It's a local's beach where the surf is good and tide pools abundant with sea life for the kids to poke around in and discover the magic of tide pools.

I'm demonstrating how easy it is to set out into nature with the tiniest of sacred tools, in order to give thanks to the directions, the Ocean and the sacred planet for all that they give and inspire in us. When we go for outings, my kids often like to bring home treasures. It is fitting to leave behind a blessing. My children participated in thanksgiving offscreen today, because they were having too much fun playing to be part of mama's production. The wee pouch didn't take much preparation to fill, nor did it take up too much room among the baskets and bags to schlep down to the sand. Some rites can be brief and compact, while being very effective.

I don't have a photo of my pouch handy, but I wanted to share one with you. This one, called Palomino, was made by Karen Prado. There are all kinds of pouches, bags and beautiful ways to carry the sacred medicine, some of which are more American Indian in appearance and tradition, and some which have obvious Celtic details, and plenty more others still beyond that. Receiving one as a gift or making one with your own hands makes it extra special.

I packed the pouch with:

lavender buds

a rose quartz bear fetish

pieces of blue kyanite

If you hang in until the end of this short vlog, you will see a panicked me bolting off to save my children from a runaway horse, who dumped it's rider and took off down the shoreline toward the area where they were playing with a friend of mine and her baby. Brandon and I  laughed MIGHTILY, because it's like watching a Funniest Home Video. Thank goodness no one was hurt! Interesting that even a spooked and stampeding horse can use selective judgment in a crisis, eh?

My first thought was to trim the video just after I said final thanks, but Coyote insisted I leave it in for laugh therapy.

Bless the Ocean & Earth, Japan, frightened horses, and each of us on this global ride. After the events of the week, perhaps a hearty laugh will be a good release for all.

 

Road Warriors: More Lessons From Dogs

Willow: Luxuriates in the freedom to be an open book.

Willow accompanies me in the car on my daily trips to the post office, and most of the time Hank, too, if he feels up to having his tired bones lifted and loaded. But Morgie is another story. She does not cotton to getting into the car.

Hank: Oblivious that he's 98 in dog years and living it up.

When I found her, she was lounging on the roadside, awaiting her pick-up. Dogs hanging about in this neighborhood, though, come in on a one-way ticket only. I would have to be her next best thing.

I decided to haul her slinky rump up into the cargo area today with Willow, just to see if she'd be open. It crossed my mind that every dog I know has loved to Go For a Ride, so perhaps her trust was so disrupted by being abandoned that it will take a bit of time to show her that it will always be a round-trip with me. Soon enough, she got sucked in by the hype and hung her head out the window, and barked at a few passersby. She seemed proud when we arrived back at the gate, and even moreso as the beneficiary of treats and praise to the tune of, "Who's my brave girl?? Who? You are! You are!" and more dog-loving talk that would cost most of you a headache in eyerolling.

By the way she behaves each time I open the hatch, I don't know if she would have ever gone for it without the firm nudge. Too scary, too hurtful- the abandonment wired in her so completely that she did not have any interest in following the lemmings over the edge, even though each day they return tongue-wagging, kings and queens of the road.

All afternoon and into this evening I've been thinking about how our experiences wire us. We can begin to expect a certain failure each time we set out to:

*try something risky

*name our dream

*fall in love again

*move to a new location

*outgrow a behavior

Sometimes that wiring leads me straight, but most of the time it doesn't. It's just a set up to get pulled asunder by unconscious paranoia.

I studied Morgan's apprehension and fear, recognizing that I had to force her to try this, asking her to betray her right instinct, in order to allow it to transform and create a new bond between us, and a new joy for her.

Taking a risk and overcoming doubt takes courage. Beginning again, as so many of us do in so many ways, can either be colored by fear or it can be a rainbow of possibility.

I've been practicing laying down my sword and embracing a transformation back to divine feminine ways, and that has come with a lot of resistance. What I often want to do is slice my way through every obstacle that stands in my way, but instead I am asking myself to sit in a place of patience and reflection in order to honor the re-wiring process that wants to occur without pushing it. There are days when it's easy to do and others in which I become absorbed by workaholism, riding the caffeine train, and brandishing my sword around above my head like Joan of Arc.

The lesson here for me is again about trust. Trust that I will find my way, even when I'm smackdab in the middle of taking risks. Trust that the answers are contained within me waiting for the right moments for light to rain down and release them. Trust that I am protected, if only by my own teeth and fur, and my willingness to explore deeply, in order to unearth the truth.

Morgan: Cautious, yet curious and open to love again.

Nor a Cage

 

Hawk has been one of my favorite allies to work with since I started studying shamanism almost a decade ago. They're quite common to spot, it seems everyone has some kind of relationship with this mighty bird. What peeved me so much in the beginning about this solar king is that his messages seem to elude me by asking me to be responsible! How dare he! Each time one would whiz across my patio, hunt my pasture, or perch above the road as I drove by, I would curse it, because I knew that whatever I was toiling with in that moment would only be resolved by going inward for the difficult answer, and not the easy one on the surface.

Hawk has shown up in several of my paintings because I'm constantly turning over the notion of honing the intution. It's become a mantra of mine, and I reckon it's due to the fact that I have become more trusting of my own inner guidance. When he comes around, waving his giant wingspan at me, I know that I'll soon be asked to make a decision or seek clarity about a matter.

Angelica is the herb inside of the bundle above, nesting along a boulder of beautiful blue sodalite. Both of them felt so good in my hands. Angelica smells earthy and a bit like licorice root. Her message was for the seer, in favor of the intuition, of dreamtime. She is akin to St. Michael and I've always made a connection between Hawk and St. Michael, and now I have something to go on.

Have you ever had an issue and had to "sleep on it"? My friend and I were just speaking about our tendencies to allow some of our issues to resolve in the dreamtime. He and I both agreed that some things have to come from so deep within, that we cannot even be awake lest we intervene with the process. There is a sweet freedom that comes with letting the inner wisdom do the work. As I keep hearing myself say aloud, I trust this process.

I so enjoy exploring my relationships with the creatures, and as I make new friends with the Stone People and Plant People, I welcome you to come along and share and learn, too. Mama Earth is so rich with teachings, I feel blessed to live on this beautiful planet with all of them and you, too.

 

I will not be clapped in a hood,

Nor a cage, nor alight upon wrist,

Now I have learnt to be proud

Hovering over the wood

In the broken mist

Or tumbling cloud.

 

-from The Hawk by William Butler Yeats

 

The Splits

Several times in my life I've felt as if a part of me was missing. The first time I recall it was twenty years ago, after the devastating loss of a mate, which triggered all sorts of abandonment injuries, or perhaps reinjuries, to my soul. I felt like the walking dead for many months and I can look back and see how it affected me for years.

Loss comes with regularity now, and each time it happens I can feel how something I no longer need strips away off of me and falls back to the Earth. It drifts lightly down, like a snakeskin. The letting go can be an exhilarating experience when the lessons become clear. When my Grandfather passed last year, it marked the beginning of shedding major layers of stories that had been paining my family for generations. Since I am the keeper of ceremony for my family, I processed those events for us, releasing the pain in solitary rites and gifting them to the Earth for transformation, like a fall dandelion releasing its featherlight seeds to be reborn.

I went to a circle on Friday night, my first with my treasured women since May. Our teacher had moved to the city and is now making her way back home. In an exercise with a partner, in which we stood face to face, then back to back, receiving readings and messages, I felt very open and vulnerable. I could feel the void within me. I felt like I'd been seperated from my twin and in this moment, I was reunited as a tree from which roots shot down into the deep Earth and arms extended to the Sky and grew taller, taller, until I could look down over all of the grove and feel my evergrowing commitment to this work.

I have to say that I left with a lingering feeling that my soul is in a bit of disrepair, and seeking a part of herself that got split off, as if scanning the rubble for the missing bit. I intend to ask for a soul retrieval from someone qualified, to bring in some insights, or I may conduct one by myself. My dreams and experiences this new year all seem to point in the direction of bringing a cleansed aspect back in that somehow got lost in all of that shedding. Since the exercise (that felt more like a healing) I already feel less exposed and more protected, but in a very soft, not-armored way. That thing that was depleting me feels less internally demanding, as well.

I'm enjoying the soft gust of information that comes from sitting in a sacred space, holding the questions and awaiting the download. As I deepen my trust of this process, and hold fast to my intention to allow my body and Spirit to lead the way, my mind is getting a much needed break. It feels a bit floaty-dreamy up here, but I'm in no rush to get back to the ground yet. Maybe when my Mercury goes retrograde on Tuesday. *wink*

Overinvested

The Fine Art of Mending, Christine Mason Miller.

My January new moon card is the Six of Pentacles. It's lesson is knowing precisely how much to give without tipping the scales and balancing the inner scales when it is easier to give out than to give to the Self. Near the end of the year, I began feeling like I wasn't giving enough back or out. So I decided that in some way, I would like to be more altruistic than I have been. Or maybe I just needed to make it more official so that I would have a measured result of how much I gave. Sounded so healthy at the time.

Parenting is an investment that pays off in tiny moments of outrageous joy, just before it becomes a chase to keep up, or drudgery of managing a million emotions exploding at once. I can see where being so close to the children these early years has made a difference for all of us. But still, I sought to look beyond that little investment of my energies, because I suppose I have a tendency to think that what I'm already doing isn't enough.

I'm wondering if I'm wanting to be seen or recognized for my good intentions and positive energies. Could it be that's what was driving my willingness to make giving more a priority?

Currently, I'm invested in something that is mostly depleting to me. I rebel against the -holism by investing more deeply, because surely, it isn't feeding me because I'm not doing something right. Right? I see where I am struggling to control the outcome. I see where I crave a reward for my hard work. And I see that by doing this, I am failing to nurture myself.

Being overly generous isn't serving me in this moment. I want to keep my reserves close to my own hearth. I imagine my pantry being full of all of the jars of soul food I put up last summer. Should I give away my store so that I can try to fulfill this shadow need?

I think we both know the answer to that.

Teach Me

Earth teach me stillness

as the grasses are stilled with light.

Earth teach me suffering

as old stones suffer with memory.

Earth teach me humility

as blossoms are humble with beginning.

Earth teach me caring

as the mother who secures her young.

Earth teach me courage

as the tree which stands alone.

Earth teach me limitations

as the ant which crawls on the ground.

Earth teach me freedom

as the eagle which soars in the sky.

Earth teach me resignation

as the leaves which die in the fall.

Earth teach me regeneration

as the seed which rises in the spring.

Earth teach me to forget myself

as melted snow forgets its life.

Earth teach me to remember kindness

as dry fields weep with rain.

-Ute

*******************************

Badger, Spider, and Coyote are in the house.

*yip*

The Baba Yaga

Sami storehouse, Stockholm, which bears an uncanny resemblance to the chicken-footed hut of the Baba Yaga.

 

I'm totally headed for the hut again. This time I'm working to expand my toolbelt. I'm currently facing a challenge of rather large proportion that I feel extremely ill-equipped to handle alone-which is the only way I can do it.

I am in the process of creating a list of trials to complete during 2011, which I hope will help me to gain the skills and ego-strength needed to overcome my fierce adversaries. I don't think I'm ready to appear swordless in front of the two-headed dragon, which is how big my fear of this feels at times.

There are many, "I can'ts", "I don't know where to begins" and "Why didn't I get a degree in blahblahblahs", as well as scores more obstacles on the road ahead that I'm already hearing about in a series of strange cartoonish inner voices.

I'll be seperating a ton of black grains from a ton of peas, spinning flax into gold, questing for fire, and collecting the golden fleece. Attempting the impossible-doing the things I never thought I could do. The scary Baba Yaga, flying through the air in her mortar, paddling the air with her pestle, while threatening to eat me alive will no doubt test my courage and trigger my deepest fears.

As the solstice approaches, I'm growing my list of everything to be released. I'll be attending my first sweat in years, since I began having babies and nursing them through, which seems to be another aspect of this transition I've been experiencing between one who has babies and one who is finished having babies. At the top of my list to release at the lodge is that grief. I cry each time (like right now) I acknowledge that I am moving beyond that sacred place. I didn't see it coming when I was in the earlier stages of my mama bliss. It really hit me when I was weaning Ivy back in the summertime.

The body holds on to so much, doesn't it? And the mind spins a story that works to hold on, too. Unravelling those tales to find the meaning underneath is not easy. I'm asking for courage and endurance. I'm asking to stay open and vulnerable.

And so the Winter Solstice preparations begin as the light readies to return to the earth. Change flickers in the lantern, which I carry with me down the wooded road toward Her.

 

 

Honest Enough

What
Do Sad people have in
Common?
It seems
They have all built a shrine
To the past
And often go there
And do a strange wail and
Worship.
What is the beginning of
Happiness?
It is to stop being
so religious
Like
That.

-Hafiz, "Stop Being So Religious"

 

I love this poem, though I'm a big fan of wailing until the wailing feels complete. And then, that's enough wailing for me about that.

I double clicked out of a photo grab earlier, and erased an entire post on truth. My truth, and what it has felt like to go through the mill and out the other side this year. And all about knowing I'm headed for more grinding in the coming year, as I face more of my own disquieted stirrings- no longer in agreement about keeping still in the dungeon I've exiled them to.

At first I said the familar words and phrases as I looked to my drafts folder to see it missing, "You've got to be kidding me..." and the urge to toss my laptop out the window rose mightily in me, as it does several times per workday. Then a quicker-than-usual surrender came in to sit with me and I walked over to paint and ponder my grief at the words and 45 minutes I'd lost forever. Wailing and worshipping quietly.

I've been painting since then, a series of soft, wintry holiday sentiments who have been swirling in me for months. I love painting in blues and whites...maybe a little ochre. If I ever had a quiet room of my own, I would unconsiously paint it these colors. The winter palettes are my favorite ones to create with.

Returning to this "page", I wonder if all that I said about my truth was worth sharing. I can already feel the energy of '11 coming in loud and clear. At the beginning of this year, I sort of noticed that self-care would be my focus. That this would be a time when I would truly make my health and my time a priority instead of saying yes to everything and wearing myself out, leaving me grouchy and unfulfilled.

I can sense that it opened the doorway to honoring my short life here; it would now seem as though I've climbed out of all of my safe boxes and I am standing right here naked in the rain, with no choice to go back and live among any of the illusions I created for myself. I can tell you that I didn't exactly see this coming.

I've taken a shotgun to those constructs made of old wounds, and I remember, each time I begin to put on the old shroud, that it isn't worth it, that it is incongruous with what I've already learned. And I find that I am left with a short-lived ache, and then a wide open life in front of me. And being one who has in the past suffered a mad case of blank-canvas syndrome, I have shot that to pieces as well. And so I don't even have fear of the unknown to cradle me in it's trembling fluff. Even that, so reliable in the past, is a useless string that makes distracting music no more.

I'm feeling it again so strongly this day. In the stillness I sit. No shroud. No protection. No umbrella. No old story to save me or make sense of it all.

In the lack of it, I feel no void, no hunger. I'm just sitting here, enjoying the silence.

 

 

 

Bring the Flood

Weeping Woman, 1937.

Need I even note his holy name? He's my favorite, you know.

I've been feeling dried up like a forgotten old raisin under a carseat cushion. Needing hydration, rain, emotions. Somewhere between the summer madness and the committing to of next year's plans, I've forgotten to stay connected to some vital aspects of my own feelings. And here I thought I'd been so good about loving them up and down. The reality is that I hold a lot of space for others to have feelings, read: little ones, clung to my leg like static, who erupt into tears about fifty times each in a day. And friends who trust me enough to shed tears in my ear. I envy all of you.

I get to and need to cry, too. How could I forget this?

Tonight I melted down but good, and sadly, it came at the cost of yelling at Miles while he putzed endlessly, picking at his dinner. A meal that the rest of us unsurprisingly weren't having. I gave him a consequence I had to shortly thereafter recant on, and once cleaned up between he and I, I retired to check in with myself about how shitty it all felt and how awful I made him feel.

It wasn't easy to connect. I knew there was a well of emotions ready to come up out of hiding, but I had to conjure, dig, lie down for, and cajole. I just store it up so that it forgets what it's like to come out as tears. As frustration, no problem, I'm topped up on hair trigger frustration these days.

Once they began to flow, I marched out into the living room, blankie around shoulders and cried right in front of the children and B, instead of hiding my feelings away and trying to appear like the one who has it together- the one they can trust and lean into when they feel sad. Very sensitive Miles has said to me since he was very little that he doesn't like to see or hear me cry. When I do, he bursts into tears. Tonight, he was fine and gave me a little kiss at one point. To think of how long I've been adjusting for him, so I wouldn't have to investigate that or deal with what it meant. It reenacts the policy of not crying in my childhood, lest I be given "something to cry about." Wouldn't want that.

Tonight's tears felt very cleansing and like a mini spa for my soul.

Twice this week, I've heard feedback from two women close to me that I give, but I don't allow myself to receive. I'm turning it over, at first a bit reluctantly, because there's a whole family story there that I can't deny. It's out of balance, to say the least. And holding space for my own emotions is something even I reject the notion of. To allow myself the gift of tears is to acknowledge that there is space available in the cosmos for them. They're not in anybody's way. I'm not in anybody's way.

I do not have to be The Strong One. The Big Sister. The Oldest Child. The Old Soul. And all of those things disguised as lacking in human vulnerabilities.

So this monthly moon week, I'm bringing on the tears! I'm going to cry about everything that makes me sad until I no longer feel like crying. I'm going out to buy Kleenex tomorrow and I intend on using it.

 

Ceremony

Today is the one year anniversary of the day we put Blue down here on our own property. Her four month run with aggressive bladder cancer had taken over. I think of her every day and I cherish the gifts she brought, and the teachings that really sank in after she crossed over. She taught me so much about being wild, as she was a street stray from south-central Los Angeles.

She came to us wounded and afraid, and we figured out how, in ten years, to become each other's best friends. When I write those words, "wounded and afraid", tears come bursting out of my eyes. I saw how strong and confident she became with some nurturing that she could count on. As I've learned to do this for myself, I see it in me, too. Even in her last weeks, she gently asserted her boundaries in what would be her final acts of self-care.

I also see it in friends who are nursing their own wounds, and family members who are discovering that they have everything they need to be satisfied contained within them. Like a beautiful and magical seed, just waiting for the conscious breath to bring the Self alive and into the light.

Just like Blue. When she shined, which was every day after the one in which she began to trust us, it came out of her pores, her laughing smiles, her joyful gallop through the woods. It was infectious, of course.

 

I'm gathering supplies for a simple ceremony to honor her life:

White sage for smudging ourselves

A handful of Lavender buds because we rubbed it into her fur as she passed last year

A jar of birdseed, our offering to the East, the direction of new beginnings

A drum and rattle to vibrate with the sacred Earth that holds us all while we are here

My necklace which reads "trust" on the front and "always" on the back, because it comforts me in all matters, including grief

 

Ceremony helps me transition into a new place of being with my feelings or to celebrate a passage for myself or someone dear. What I'm wanting today is to honor my friend, to share that process with my children, and to connect with the Earth and all life as this season transitions, too.

If you feel like sharing, please tell me how you use ceremony or ritual to bring vitality to your experiences.

 

 

 

 

Protection

photo by denise andrade

It is an act of love to stride out into the weather naked.

What is protection anyway but paper-thin skins piled on top of each other upon us, placed there by injury and fear?

To peel off the crackled drying things is to expose the beauty underneath, to allow the truth to see blessed daylight; to come into contact with, perhaps, a lie, that became an imposter and hung on for too long: summer's last zucchini gathering a white coat in the crisper.

To cast off is to *brighten*, and I could well use a bit more brightening. Could you?

I've been surprised by the most recent shedding layer, which feels injurous, and intermingled with gashes from my own sword, as well as those unintentional, unconscious lacerations from someone close to me. How I'm working through it is by declaring freedom from it, and holding onto hope-the notion that it will be possible to repair that which was sacrificed and make something new out of almost nothing.

If I start with my own soul, though, it isn't nothing, it's a little ball of light I can hold gently and birth into fresh butterfly-being. I'm coming to believe that it was Protection which caused me to sustain the injury, by putting me into a long sleep so I couldn't feel what was being done.

To feel awake is to feel warmth returning to the stone figures, as when Aslan breathes his magical exhalation.

Protection isn't needed when it's not raining.

And as I've learned from my friends in Portland, it's not needed even when it is.