to frolick with glee in a boundless sea

"My entire self-concept shifted as I no longer perceived myself as a single, a solid, an entity with boundaries that separated me from the entities around me. ... Now, released from that restrictive circuitry, my right hemisphere relished in its attachment to the eternal flow. I was no longer isolated and alone. My soul was as big as the universe and frolicked with glee in a boundless sea."

~ Jill Bolte Taylor, Ph.D., My Stroke of Insight

_____________

The above book is incredible; I highly recommend it. Also, see her dynamic lecture on TED.

_________________

photo © | Dreamstime.com

Empowerment is...

ability to Be

simply

or

extravagantly

kids these days

So, we're sitting on the couch, talking quietly, when all of a sudden the dogs go crazy, Phoenix starts running around with bug-up-his-butt syndrome (as the youngest k9, this happens quite regularly but usually we see what sets him off), and that gets the pack all wound, with Morgana barking, Pooka chasing and growling (trying to get everyone back under control), and Chiana frantic because she's no clue what is going on! Crazy!

I say "Kids these days!"

Ron says "Good thing dogs don't do drugs or we'd be in big trouble!"

We are grateful we have fur-kids and not two-leggeds... :-)

(the photo is a few years ago in a quiet moment -- back when Phoenix was still young enough to need a crate when we were gone from the house)

Reborn

"From her very flesh and blood and from the constant cycles of filing and emptying the red vase in her belly, a woman understands physically, emotionally, and spiritually that zeniths fade and expire, and what is left is reborn in unexpected ways and by inspired means, only to fall back to nothing, and yet be reconceived again in full glory."

~ Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Ph.D., Women Who Run With the Wolves

I am particularly drawn to this imagery as a way of connecting with my creative Self. We are so hard on our own creations and creativity, aren't we?! Expecting constant manifestation in a form that is gloriously perfect! Yet, understanding natural flow is comforting and reassuring; to know, truly know, that waxing and waning is fine, that birth, death, rebirth are fine and simply express transformation, not an end. To realize that perfection is only perception related via comparison is freeing and transformative in itself!

Balanced in Fullness

I can see full Grandmother Moon through the skylight in my study/studio, brightly glowing, pulling and sending energy, co-mingling with the resonance as we transition from summer to autumn this night of the equinox. These energies infuse an essence as I write...

... more on Sedum Essence

I also just finished listening to the Power of the Crone webinar and the soft, richly lilting tones of Clarissa Pinkola Estes remain in my mind...

~ Bright Blessings ~

Harvest

Tomorrow we celebrate the Fall Equinox, a traditional time of balance and harvest. Not just the harvest of food, but also that which we've sown and will now reap on a deeply personal level.

This is a transitional period and so we may also find our physical bodies more susceptible to external influences, so take care to bring within what you need in order to maintain physical, mental and spiritual health.

"Our emotional and spiritual challenge is to accept the consequences of our actions, and to find the wisdom to reflect, balance and discern." ~ Colette Gardiner 1999, We'Moon 2000

Her Giveaway Dance

How does she know each perfect

moment to release her hold? So clean,

no questions, her twigs unsnap.

In Spring she was Maiden, surprised

and proud with new beauty.

White dream at the edge of the green,

she trusted her bud into bloom.

One day she was transparent

with love, the whole tree

quivered in ecstasy, the blossoms

were mating with bees. Her petals

snowed down upon me all day long.

Now this miracle: flower to fruit. Such

a production to offer so casually. When an apple

strikes and rolls from the roof, her rhythm

of deliverance slaps the edge of a djembe.

When one thuds to the earth: bass

from the drum's center. Her Giveaway Dance

goes on for weeks. We gather red bounty

every day. We eat apples for breakfast,

for dessert. In fever we eat them to become

summer. Still she dances apples down.

Each gesture, a cupped breast. Again

and again until her mothering's done.

~ Sue Silvermarie 1998, We'Moon 2000

_________________

photo © | Dreamstime.com

Impressions

Empty. Space. Shapes and textures. As I doodle, I realize that what draws (?!) me to it is being able to create shapes and flow. Perhaps similar to what I enjoy about handwriting - in cursive - to feel and see and sense the flow, the curves, the images evoked from the ink, the color as it flows across the page or pad whether paper or glass. It is like another world where magic appears, where first there is emptiness and then these shapes appear that are grounded in a knowledge but take shape, new, clean, each time, never exactly the same, and I can become one with the flow as my fingers move and my eyes see -- beautiful and sometimes letters are dropped or lost along the way where a word is still a word, recognizable, yet even more curious and unique than before. When I doodle, it can feel the same way, that here is what we call a circle or a straight line and yet the shape that emerges is not the same as it was before! And on the iPad, it is like finger-painting! Only a tip of a finger that moves, slow or fast, light pressure or more firm to create a different impression. Like our impact upon the world around us reflected within the drawing or image or word.

a new game

sometimes Death comes up to us,

tosses a shiny red ball,

and says:

"let's play a new game!"

like a fragile china cup

When we try to force something to happen - or to not happen - it falls apart like a fragile china cup being forced through the narrow space in a brick, shattering into a hundred sharp pieces, the shards of a once-delicate, elegant whole now tiny fragments that glisten in remembrance of beauty.

High in the ether

A passing of spirits carried high in the ether that can now venture near, soaring through the subtle movements, darting now with ease in and out of our very bones, catching us off guard at times sending chills up and down the spine or shivers to mobilize the energies like a vibration beyond the world of form, intangible but very real. Voices call from beyond, whispers on the wind ... listen. The veil begins the thinning, the slight changes daily as the year wanes toward deepest center, still vigorous but chants of change, waning wisps, more and more subtle, feeling barely there ... can you catch it, the sensation of spirit riding rampant upon the rippling tides of reparation. “Reparation?” A word out of nowhere, out of the ether; to make amends?

Full work is Autumn Chai

Thank you Demeter

I lost a dear friend and companion of twelve years...

Demeter was a cat of abundant love and nurturance; she epitomized all of the kind, giving nature of a mother, willing to sacrifice all she was or had to others. Scarcely a cross 'word' ever escaped her in the twelve years we were together; certainly none that I can recall. A foster cat with kittens originally, I felt like I didn't name her -- Demeter, a great mythological mother Goddess, simply was who she was.

On Saturday, September 11th, our sweet and huggable cat Demeter died in my arms. Demeter was eating and good until Friday morning; within 36 hours, she was gone. I feel honored that she waited until that moment of togetherness to depart this world of form; each time this has happened, when a beautiful soul chooses to be with me when they let go, I feel like I have been given a tremendous gift - one that I will treasure always.

I have found cats to be particularly good at hiding serious illness; in Demeter's case, though, I feel like she consciously chose to give us a very special year extra. Last year, she experienced what seemed to be a 'stroke' of some kind; with lots of TLC, Reiki, Flower Essences, and Homeopathy, she recovered beautifully. This past weekend, though, she seemed to have a similar one, but it felt very different to me. Indeed, she only waited until the evening until I was relaxed with her cuddled in my arms to transition all on her own. Demeter left as quietly and gently as she had lived; no fanfare, no drama. She leaves a huge space in our hearts and home.

To see more photos and read about the lovable, remarkable and devoted Demeter, click here.

p.s. in hindsight, I see that on Friday I posted about aging, acceptance, and death, so a part of me must have sensed that Demeter's dying time was near...

Aging and Acceptance

I learn a lot from the animals who live with me. Today, the lessons seem to be on aging and acceptance. The two older gals - one 13.5 (Chiana) and the other at least 13, although a more realistic estimate is around 16-18 (Demeter) - exist moment to moment, both of them sleeping longer and more deeply (as if to wink in and out of that other realm) than in the past, contrasting significantly with the patterns of the younger crowd. There is a sweetness within them, though, that softens the resistance I have to their aging, easing it into acceptance just as they seem to accept the present gracefully most of the time, not comparing it to how they were yesterday or whether they will be here tomorrow. Although, because they have different personalities, the process is very different. Demeter with her solid Kapha constitution simply becomes more and more relaxed. Chiana, strongly Vata, can become restless and anxious, seeking reassurance and averse to being alone, but then it passes and is forgotten as she settles down.

Fear used to surround me a lot when it come to the thought of death and worrying about these blessed companions dying. They are such a huge and integral part of my life -- of my very being. They are Mother Nature living with me as we are knitted together as one unit. When I was a kid at home, the animals would simply disappear - there one day and then gone. It made no sense to me. And then, when Amber (photo) died in January 1997, a portal opened up as I moved into a sense/sensation of what 'death' meant, and it was not what I thought it would be. Her dying, the first I experienced on my own with a precious one I had raised, loved and cared for her whole life, was painful and excruciatingly real. I was grateful, though, that I had found a spiritual center prior to losing her that offered tremendous support. Since then, with each beloved's passing, with each transitional experience of a uniquely beautiful being, the sensation grows: acceptance. To accept does not mean to become depressed and resigned, as it is not debilitating, but rather is opening, allowing the peace and love of all that is natural to reside within oneself, to truly be Self.

Aging and Acceptance. Natural and Now.

I Come to the Forest Alone

I feel the soft snuggle of the faux fur against my neck as I zip my jacket all the way up this cool, early morning. My feet step lightly as I move into the woods, the trail laden with amber pine needles. The first section of the path rises and falls, roots protruding, their sappy strong limbs supporting and feeding the tall trees that line our way. The boys (Corgis Pooka and Phoenix) scamper in glee, sniffing and snorting as they weave patterns following scented traces of all who have passed before, human or animal. I love this trail, a short distance from our home, especially the beginning where it is narrow and cozy and totally sublime in its nourishment. Roots exposed give way to a smother path, sandy soil alternating with verdant moss carpets like gentle stepping stones, carrying me onward. Ahh, here it is. As the trail makes a turn and my knees feel the downward tug, the Baby Pine Forest is on either side, their young bodies crowded together, spindly and competing for space as they reach high toward the light, reaching scraggly arms up and up and out, tangling together. When we moved here eight years ago, these babies barely reached my thighs, but now many are well over seven feet tall, casting a comforting shadow upon the path, enclosing me within their ion-rich community, and I feel their contentment, their ease of the moment. The quiet is bliss. We just had a lot of rainfall so they are flexible and drinking their fill. Their youthful vigor infuses me and the boys; we continue our walk, eventually departing the narrow trail to turn onto the wider one which is really a thin ribbon of sand and dirt used by snowmobiles in winter, and other noisy little ATVs on weekends in the non-snowy seasons. A tune comes to mind, I change some of the words, and sink into the moment...

I Come To The Forest Alone (click on this link for the video I put together in honor of the Divine Pine and Her companions of the New England woods). This offering is based upon the music of a gospel tune I enjoyed as a child; the lyrics changed slightly to reflect my soul's voice -- so, as I sing, please embrace the love, allow it to flow, and let go of the limitations of the singer.

_________________

photo © | Dreamstime.com

Reiki and Pranic Healing

I feel fortunate to be able to offer Reiki and Pranic healing to the animals in my care. So often, this gift is all they need and the way many of them soak it up is amazing. Last night, Phoenix had an upset tummy, but settled back into sleep quickly and comfortably once I began giving him a Reiki treatment, alternating with pure Pranic healing. Demeter and Guinevere both adore receiving Reiki; they ask for it and just seem to melt as the energy eases gently into their systems. And when Chiana is anxious at bedtime, there's nothing like a little Reiki to soften her tension.

When we eat plants, we are ingesting Prana.

When we breathe, we are inhaling Prana as well as air.

Vital Force.

Life Force.

_________________

photo © | Dreamstime.com

Anywhere Is

The moon upon the ocean
is swept around in motion
but without ever knowing
the reason for its flowing
in motion on the ocean
the moon still keeps on moving
the waves still keep on waving
and I still keep on going

~ lyrics from "Anywhere Is" by Enya

I love this song but what often strikes me the most is that the words have different meaning depending upon where I am in the moment of listening each time. Like the waves move through me, the song moves with me as I ebb and flow...

To Doodle

I've recently discovered doodling on my iPad - a fun and easy form of creativity that puts me in touch with another side of myself, that can be easier to access at times than my writing, because the doodling takes me totally beyond 'thought' and removes me from my 'mind.' Very cool.

I notice that I'm more comfortable saying that I "doodle" rather than "draw" or make "rhymes" rather than "poetry". These are simple terms for simple forms, without any pretense of professionalism or 'art'. I label using the standard 'drawing' or 'poetry,' though, in order to encourage a sense of connection within my Self to what is traditionally considered art and creativity.

Anyway, the doodling definitely releases a different energy - more childlike - than does my writing! LOL MORE DOODLING

Dancing the Flower

Dancing the flower

all through the hour

lifted by ether and air.

Tree granting shelter

for fire and water,

rooted in earth so fair.

Uluru

Sitting, hearing darkness call,

silhouette upon Uluru.

Blink - dusk - blink - dawn

and continuing on

through transitions' hues.

Peaceful, present, content to view

the unfolding wings of all that sings

witness to death and birth,

measuring our worth,

marking the eons of rise and fall.

My Heart one with All.

The Magic Pill

"The physician who, though knowing the disease, does not reach the inner self of the patient with the light of his knowledge, will not succeed in his treatment." ~ Charaka

This would apply to anyone seeking to facilitate healing in another person. It is so very easy to get caught up in the physical aspects of disease and symptoms; usually those symptoms are screaming at us to get our attention! But that's just it -- they're trying to tell us far more than what is so readily apparent. Even CAM practitioners, therapists or consultants can easily fall into the trap of simply providing someone with material substances that, while helpful, do not reach the "inner self of the patient." Because our culture fantasizes about The Magic Pill, even those of us who know better can misstep or lose our way, especially when someone is in pain right now and seeking our guidance. We must do our best, and yet remain firm in our Truth. Illness occurs in so many ways and we become susceptible to the toxins of our world through wrong use of senses, will, body, mind, and speech, as well as others.

True healing is self-healing ... and that kind of healing comes from the light within each of us.

_________________

photo © | Dreamstime.com

Echo

Hazy sky this morning, the heat lying in wait behind the thin veil, the fire dampened down from the cool lunar energy, the watery echo of sun to come.

Echo.

A voice from far away, my voice, but one I haven't heard in a long time, faint and fading but it can be heard by listening carefully, tipping my head, ears alert. There. Barely. Like CPE says "behave yourself - barely".

I like that.

And so does the echo of the girl who knew.

The girl who flew.

The child with wide eyes

and truth, no lies.

The being pure and sweet,

to be and love, not to compete.

A young soul, growing, knowing, being;

not blinded by cruelty or pain, seeing.

Oh so clearly she saw.

I see her there.

I hear her care.

Her face of love

and voice of softly floating dove

on wings so white and pure,

to cleanse away all we endure.

The path now clear and clean.

A trail of peace between

us as we step lightly,

onto its soft pad glowing brightly.

I hear her voice as she calls.

I see her face in awe.

She is not small,

only seen that way

through the echo of her way

that has come and gone.

Echo.

There, but not.

Here, but not.

Echo soft.

Echo strong but fades.

Carried upon the non-wind, the ether.

Comes back from all around,

from earth and sky and ground.

MY echo.

I return until I am one once more with the echo that is no longer an echo but a part of me, blending, creating, we join together until we are One.

Until I am Whole.

The echo now is of the future, not the past, because I have reclaimed the echo from that which was and only the call of that which will be can be heard faintly, calling.

But she lives in the now, the present, I can touch her and see her and feel her - we move together and live together and love as One so that the echo of future is not real and can't feel.

Echo.

No more of lostness, but of what has been found and of what has been set aside.

And even that, the soon-to-be-echo of lostness set aside, transforms from echo to a sigh to a wisp on the air, carried upon the wings of a will-o-the-wisp to the ocean where it is absorbed into the Source once more.

Only clearness. Brightness.

Sparkling and shimmering is the air all around.

Sharp with love's grandeur, I hear the sound.

I feel the openness, the acceptance, the forgiveness.

Because we are not alone or separate.

The blade of grass that spikes beneath my toe reminds my skin to tickle my heart and envelop my soul with laughter.

The crow that sits upon the branch, cleaning a wing as dark as night but shiny as an ebony satin shawl that surrounds and loves and protects and brings the shelter once more, not once more because never not here, only appearing 'as if' ...

the mystical echo that was.

Harmonizing

Are you feeling a need to harmonize? To be calm and at peace, within and without? I strongly urge you to give yourself the gift of Honey Bees in the White Hawthorn, an incredible flower essence co-created by Molly of Green Hope Farm. When I create a flower essence bouquet for myself, most of the time this elegant essence goes into the blend as it is truly marvelous. I feel this essence will be key to all that is Puspavat--Flowering.

_____________

photo courtesy Green Hope Farm, all rights reserved

The Main Event: Adventures in Storytelling

Premiering October 31st and running at least through February 2nd, this event has been long anticipated by my Creative Self! Are you with me? Can you feel the fluttering in my womb and the pounding of my heart?!

An event in stasis for the past 18 months, only given the most teensy bits of attention here and there while I focused upon Ayurvedic studies, I am nearly ready to once more embrace my dear friends Imagination, Inspiration and Creation. They’ve been patiently waiting, glowing with their inner light, until they could come out to play full-time. The timing will be perfect, as it always is when remembering to flow with Mother Earth’s cycles and my own inner guide, as I prepare for this most precious event.

Preparations for “Adventures in Storytelling” include completion of my AIVS course and an Ayurvedic class I will be facilitating. Finishing these two projects will temporarily lower the priority of my health care studies in order to raise the priority of my creative writing. This ebb and flow is necessary because I have learned that, in my own life, I cannot ‘do it all’ and remain sane. Thus, when I’m ready to focus upon a particular aspect, I realize that it means releasing something else - perhaps not forever, just for now.

I am shifting and making space for a new or renewed energy to come in, flare up, and make its home in the hearth of my Great Room for a while. Other interests are gently and lovingly packed away and moved into the attic where they will come to rest, their former blaze settling into a lovely ember. Already the changes are beginning, attention shifting back and forth as I tend two fires, but providing fuel for both can be exhausting.

Yet this is a time of harvest when action culminates in all the many forms of Doing; we are focused outwardly, actively gathering up all the fruits of our labors. Soon enough will be the time of Being, going within, nurturing our souls, connecting with Self ... embracing quiet creativity, imagining how all the colors of the rainbow manifest, feeling as we inspire and are inspired from the depths.

For me, creative writing is the fullness of Puspavat...Flowering of Body Mind and Spirit.

_________________

photo © | Dreamstime.com