Chapter 2
Melting Limitation
Heart’s Desire
Melting Limitation
Tribute to an Elder
Yoga in the Sunshine
Connectors Between Earth and Sky, Part 1
Connectors Between Earth and Sky, Part 2
Weaving
Weaving, Part 2
I Do Not Have a List
Equinox
Harvest Moon
July 17, 2012
Heart’s Desire
Balance of heart and mind is a key to emerging from the longings expressed in our fantasy-dreams into the full light — and delight — of living our heart’s desire. We discover who we truly are and our inner fire is expressed in every facet of our heart-dance with life.
When I was in my twenties, and enjoying sailing offshore with friends, I often contemplated words which had been part of a “suggestion” I had received on the inner levels little more than two years earlier. The suggestion had been an answer to my questions about my own choices for my personal and career pathway. The words which echoed, mantra-like, were, “Ask that Love direct your course.”
Navigating became a metaphor for me. At night under the stars, we steered upon whatever group of stars with which our compass course clearly aligned. This was visually easier and more satisfying than staring at a lighted compass. Focused on the stars and the expansive night sky, it was an ideal time to ponder what was meant by “Ask that Love direct your course.” I did indeed “Ask”. Over many years I gradually began to understand “heart’s desire”.
First, it had been necessary to recognize that my upbringing had encouraged a pathway set by concepts rather than feelings — concepts that had been handed down as though they were real. “Success” was also defined by concepts and had little to do with one’s personal feelings. The implicit message had been, “Follow this pathway and this ‘success’ will be yours.”
And so, under the stars and in the twilight before dawn, I recognized that to allow Love to direct my course, I had some “de-programming” to do. It was necessary that I replace the “shoulds” of my life with my own feeling-based desires. That surely did not happen overnight.
One of my challenges was my strong-willed nature. I had to learn how to be “willful” from my heart rather than my mind. In recent months a friend said, “If you want something in life you have to be very clear about it.” I completely agree with his comment. It is also important — and illuminating — to know whether the “wanting” is coming from your mind or your heart.
In 2005 I was inspired to write a song titled “Listen to Your Heart”. One of the verses is:
“Your mind serves your heart
Remember how to feel
The balance is created by your feeling.
Listen to your heart
This is a key
Balance carefully.”
Your heart is aligned with your soul’s knowings. When you can allow your mind to serve your heart, your mind can do its part in creating that which you desire. When you are impassioned by your heart’s desire, your personal world changes — step by perfect step. And clarity — from both heart and mind — inspires every step. You can feel clarity.
Heart’s desire is also a feeling of certainty and destiny, as well as intention. Honoring your heart’s desire takes you to a place of radiant self expression and relentless joyfulness — your soul’s light manifesting on Earth.
In recent months this verse arrived with me from a friend:
“What is the meaning of heart’s desire?
What is the meaning of inner fire?
Do we live life just in our dreams
Or is that only how it seems?”
Melting Limitation
July 24, 2012
In a sense, we become children again. Where there had been a forgetting, there is now a remembering. We begin to learn that is possible to consistently experience life with an expanded view — that view which is transmitted to us from our soul. We learn that we are not limited in time and space; we can step across those boundaries. We learn that we have had the experience of many lifetimes on Earth — all culminating in this current lifetime. Understandings thus gained can help to illumine our present pathway.
Having been inundated by the rational point of view since childhood, we may feel some trepidation about the changes that will take place within ourselves as we expand both our perception and our openness to personal changes. In fact, what we are doing is moving beyond the illusion of limitation. At any time, we can re-visit the place of limitation — the ordinary reality — from which we have come. We can learn to walk comfortably with a foot in each world — the ordinary and the expanded. We learn to be “in” the ordinary world, but not “of” it. We discover that, no matter what is happening in the outer world, we ourselves are in a comfortable, delightful place of peace and well-being.
When we integrate within ourselves the understanding that everything is energy, we are truly prepared for unlimited well-being within the increasing cosmic energy field as the predicted celestial events progress. Everyone who allows the melting of concepts of limitation within himself or herself energizes positive change on Earth as their increased awareness radiates a higher vibrational field.
A higher vibrational field and increased clarity melt away the previous conceptual limitations and, because of increased vibration, attract a destiny of a higher order — both personally and globally. The Law of Attraction suggests that perfection is achieved by practice and that what one puts one’s attention on becomes, at the very least, more obvious. Melting limitation, then, is energized by heart’s desire in alignment with one's soul; it is a process of clarification, intention and attraction. In most cases it does not happen instantly because it is a process that requires some assembly. The process of assembly is consistency in willful intentionality. The time is now.
In early childhood, when the perceptual doorway into a wider awareness is still open, we begin to learn concepts of limitation. We are taught that the only reality is that which we can reach out and touch, and perceive with our five senses. Though we as very young children may talk with our “invisible” friends, it is rare that such behavior is tolerated, let alone reinforced. We soon forget that other layers of reality co-exist with ordinary day-to-day reality. We learn to allow the rational to dominate.
The rational mind only knows what it knows; it does not know what it does not know. It is our feeling perception that takes us beyond the confines of “ordinary reality”. It is our feeling perception fueled by the inner fire of our heart’s desire that takes us from the limitations of “self” into the expanded awareness of “Self” -- our Higher Self. It is our Higher Self that is in alignment with our soul’s knowing. It is the wide view available to us through our soul’s knowing that transports us to an expanded, multilayered perception of our experience on Earth. Here is where the rheostat on the melting of limitation is turned up.
“Everyone who allows the melting of concepts of limitation within himself or herself energizes positive change on Earth as their increased awareness
radiates a higher vibrational field.”
July 31, 2012
Tribute to an Elder
When very young the Elder had been given the name “Tlakaelel”, together with his life’s mission. The name Tlakaelel was an honorary title within his Mexica Tolteca lineage, and carried with it much responsibility and an unusual scope. Though oral tradition, he knew the names of his ancestors for more than 40 generations. Those hundreds of years trace back to a time frame well before the arrival of the Spanish Conquistadors in his native Mexico. In fact, his point of view reached back much farther than those centuries; he was also attuned to what some call pre-history — Atlantis and earlier.
Widely traveled, he was well in touch with countless elders of his generation, while also walking in the “mainstream” world. I noticed that he invariably met people “where they were”, his own demeanor an intriguing combination of “authority” and “humility”.
As I became better acquainted with him, over a number of years, I sensed that he himself sometimes felt limited by the confines of being “the Elder”. Although his sense of mission was foremost in his life, sometimes there were glimpses into aspects of his character that were seldom revealed. Once he told me of the beauty of the night sky as he had experienced it, over the Mexico City environs — many years before pollution. He spoke with the heart of a poet who wanted to share that part of himself. A photo of him sitting by a sweat lodge fire was titled — by him — “The Enigma”. He insisted on speaking to others through a translator -- Spanish to English. However, he once told me, very quietly, “I understand English quite well.” Clearly he had created a protocol which he himself was free to set aside - if he decided to do so.
Some of those who became close to the Elder, as a teacher, became either Sun Dance Supporters or Sun Dancers in the annual Sun Dance near his home in Mexico. I observed that this seemed to be clearly an appropriate choice for some. But there were other possibilities, less obvious. I noticed that, sometimes, the Elder seemed to hold up an invisible signpost — a signpost felt, rather than seen — which pointed to a direction, or a next step.
I myself experienced this “signpost” on a number of occasions, some of which I wrote about in Golden Pebbles. During a summer visit at the home of friends in Canada, slightly north of Vermont’s border, I felt compelled to see the Elder at a gathering in Massachusetts — a five hour drive, each way. Arriving at the gathering, I chose to give myself some re-grouping time by sitting at the base of a huge pine tree, adjacent a field and near a wooded area. After a few minutes, the Elder emerged from the woods — where he himself had apparently been enjoying some quiet time. Recognizing me from a distance, he waved and walked toward me — as though he had been expecting me! Together we then walked around the field, mostly in silence, to join the others. It was nearly time for the ceremony which had been my “reason” for the trip southward.
During a brief conversation after the Four Colors ceremony — a ceremony he facilitated in many countries — I told the Elder about my (then) current work, Journey Through an Open Door and The Goddess and the Rainbow Bridge. He looked at me intently and lowered his voice, as though he did not want to be overheard. “I can see,” he said. He indicated that he could see “success”. His words to me were a gift, a gift it was important to receive at that time.
His ability to “see” specific “information” was, on another level, an ability as a visionary. He held a vision of Peace and Unity for humanity. Tirelessly and eloquently he shared his knowledge of indigenous culture and history as a contribution toward greater understanding of humanity’s collective journey on planet Earth. He felt that a rebirth of ancestral traditions would contribute to global unity and peace.
Three decades ago, Tlakaelel brought the Sun Dance (a tradition which began among Native Americans in the U.S.) to Mexico. Last week was the celebration of 30 years of the Sun Dance in Mexico. These Mexico Sun Dances under Tlakaelel’s direction have always included July 26 as part of the event because that date is considered to be an auspicious one; on the 26th of July, 712 years ago, the 7 nations founded Mexico Tenochtitlan.
This year on July 26th Tlakaelel, well in touch with the Sun Dance as always, chose to — in his words — “transform, integrate with the All, with the universe, with the cosmos”. At around 90 years of age, he had completed the mission that had been his constant priority.
A teacher and an inspiration to many, his legacy lives through his message, those who received it, and his role as an impulsador — one who gives the impulse to start many things.
I myself feel profoundly fortunate to have experienced Tlakaelel as both mentor and friend.
Although he is present within the pages of my books, Journey Through an Open Door and Golden Pebbles: Celebrating the New Earth, I did not mention the Elder by name.
IIn Golden Pebbles, I wrote: “Listening to the Elder as he spoke of his lineage and the teachings handed down for generations was rather like stepping into a history and having it come alive in the present. The talks were not a glorification of the past; rather, they were an offering of a perspective which could, potentially, shed some light on our choices in the present. Some of the teachings were specific to his lineage; others were more broadly based. Sometimes, when listening to him, there was a sense that he was attuned to an historical perspective that spanned many Native American nations — from both North America and South America — and many eras.”
With Gratitude.
Yoga in the Sunshine
August 07, 2012
In the morning sunshine, I’m once again practicing yoga outdoors. Near my chosen yoga area, a patch of tiny purple flowers is proliferating in the lawn. And, to my right, tree branches dance gently whenever there is a puff of breeze. Bright white clouds contrast nicely with the brilliantly blue sky. A lovely summer day in New England.
As I'm feeling the pulsation of energy through my body while holding each yoga posture, I'm also listening for whatever wants to flow through me as inspiration. Unlike mind chatter, listening for inspiration is something which comes out of awareness of inner silence. It occurs to me that yoga and bicycling provide me with some of the same effects: awareness of energy flow in my body, and inspiration arriving in a delightful stream.
Within today’s stream of inspiration, I remember a comment made by a friend a number of months ago. I had made a note of it: “You have the capacity to change reality.” In and of itself his comment was worth contemplating. However, I also noted the context. The dialog was this:
friend (perhaps teasing about my penchant for order): “That jacket is folded nicely.”
me: “Elves,” I replied playfully.
friend (smiling): “You have the capacity to change reality.”
me: “That’s the idea.” (I really don’t know why those words arrived through me.) After a moment I added, “I’ll take that as a compliment. I don’t know that it is. But I’ll take it that way.”
The capacity to "change reality" is a choice that comes from within oneself. By not accepting the ordinary as it is, we can change our perception of the world to an expanded view. People talk about dimensions, but dimensions are really different speeds of perceptual awareness. You cannot see other "dimensions" if you don't vibrate at the same or a faster frequency. The reason light illuminates is that it is faster than everything else. If there was something faster than light, it would illuminate light.
As regards elves, the "capacity to change reality" is simply the ability to pay attention to something and acknowledge its existence. Many cultures have references to the “little people”. The chance that humanity repetitively creates allegory with no basis and no stimulus is unlikely. Therefore, something exists that stimulates peoples' perception and imagination; otherwise, the myth would have long since exhausted itself — as many do. Elves and other elementals are vibrating at a frequency that is higher than what we know as ordinary reality; thus, only silent and observant people perceive them. It is said that the elementals are seeable out of the corner of your eye (peripheral vision) — if you are observant.
There is more energy in the sunlight now. The light is more intense, more condensed, and — in the opinion of some scientists — moving faster. An increase in vibrational speed affects all matter. The question is, “Does this matter to you?” If you want to be part of the world of elves and elementals, then most of your will-based awareness has to be anchored in that perceptual reality. Wherever your affection is, your attention is. Having an expanded perceptual awareness, which includes the reality of elves and other elementals, does not exclude the ability to function in ordinary reality; rather, it enhances that ability. The more of the world around you that you can see, the clearer your path becomes.
The sun is now higher in the sky, and the day is warming. My version of multitasking —yoga and listening, concurrently — while in this outdoor place is now complete until tomorrow morning. Looking at the multilayered world I can see — right here, right now — I am sure my path is clear.
“The more of the world around you that you can see,
the clearer your path becomes.”
Connectors Between Earth and Sky, Part 1
August 14, 2012
At any given time there are two thousand lightning storms happening across the globe and an average of 50 lightning strikes per second, constantly. This sets up a resonance field in Earth’s atmosphere that all creatures respond to, and which is necessary to existence. If we humans eliminate the waste of natural energy that we take in from the Earth and Sky, and which maintains our life force and vitality, then a step toward evolution is taken. Like a tree which takes minerals from the ground, a human must accept responsibility for his/her state of conductivity. Worrying and wasting energy fray ones wires, minimizing alertness and consciousness. Evolution requires repairing your wires through the simplicity of reducing stress on your mechanism. Becoming energized is easier when the leaks in your battery are minimized. Increasing vital energy improves perceptual awareness. Therefore, if one is interested in evolving one needs to refine oneself. Simplification is refinement.
Everywhere around us are distractions that will pull our awareness toward them if we allow it. The choice a tree can make is to be heliocentric, and follow the sun. Because it does this, all its other work and activities function well When a person chooses to give primary awareness to the point from which life emanates — like a tree following the sun — then his/her panoramic view of the world and the universe at large will open up to a broader and more placid reality.
The reason that people tend not to collect slow lightning — unlike trees — is jitteriness and lack of paying attention. A change in attitude and awareness automatically achieves both a change in vitality and pleasantness of expression — similar to growing new leaves to take in more sunshine on an inner level. An increase in vitality derived from being heliocentric — paying attention to the source of energy within yourself — has the potential to change withered dandelions into stately oaks. The key is paying attention to what matters. Follow the sun inside yourself.
(to be continued next week)
Native Americans refer to trees as the “standing people”, the chiefs of the plant kingdom. Trees are active connectors between the Earth and Sky, and we humans hold a similar potential.
From the electromagnetic charge in the atmosphere, trees bring slow lightning to the ground. Thus the ground around any tree is particularly vital because it is electromagnetically enhanced. Through their roots trees bring forth, from the soil, the nutrients required for their health and growth. The sun’s light, through photosynthesis, creates chlorophyl and vitality in the tree and in most plants.
Unlike trees, humans — for the most part — currently neglect their grounding potential; consequently they suffer numerous types of electromagnetic imbalance including physical, mental and emotional dis-ease. How, then, can we achieve necessary grounding and balance?
“Trees are active connectors between the Earth and Sky, and we humans hold a similar potential.”
“When a person chooses to give primary awareness to the point from which life emanates — like a tree following the sun — then his/her panoramic view of the world and the universe at large will open up to a broader and more placid reality.”
Connectors Between Earth and Sky, Part 2
August 21, 2012
When I began writing my first book, Journey Through an Open Door, it was during each early morning walk that I listened for inspiration as to what to write. I invariably paused at a towering pine tree which had taken root, generations earlier, near a large rock — a glacial erratic that had tumbled into place long before the tree grew near it. There was just enough room for me to stand between the rock and the pine tree, and there I would root my request for inspiration. By the time I returned to the house the specific focus for my day was clear. A number of months into the writing of Journey, it was in this same area where I began to see the dancing lights of nature spirits. This connection with the elementals continued and became a multilayered pathway showing me ever more clearly — visibly — that we are indeed connectors between Earth and Sky. When one early morning a large deva filled the narrow road edge to edge, I was sure Earth is an enchanted place. It is we humans — in our disconnection from Mother Nature’s world — who have forgotten this is so.
When I first began my focus in alignment with the guides who playfully refer to themselves as Mirin, they suggested that I consider myself as a connector between Earth and Sky. They inspired a drawing of a specific way of perceiving one’s role. This I sketched. After more than two decades it is still vividly clear to me.
About two years after Mirin’s suggestion, I was participating in a workshop on Mount Desert Island on the coastline of Maine when the facilitator of the workshop, Peter, told a personal story about a special tree that had been near his former home. He said that a huge deva inhabited the tree which he (gifted with clairvoyance) could see. He said that, particularly because of the deva’s presence in the tree, the area felt very special. The tree, however, was not on his property and — much to his dismay — there came a day when the tree was cut, and the deva left. Without the tree, and the deva, the energy of the area abruptly changed. Not long after the removal of the tree, Peter was separated from his wife and two young sons — at his wife’s request. Although the changes worked out well for him, step by step — new home, new marriage — he understood that his destiny had been connected with the tree: the ending of the bond with the tree and the deva had signaled the beginning of a change, and a need for movement.
About a year after Peter shared his story about the tree and the deva, I was at another workshop when one of the participants told me another story about trees. He, too, had been gifted with clairvoyance and could see the energy pathways among trees. He could clearly see their connectedness with one another. He also said it was obvious to him that the stronger trees literally gave energy to the weaker trees. He said he didn’t fully realize how special his clairvoyant gifts had been until he lost touch with those abilities. His appreciation for trees stayed with him.
A few years later I attended a gathering which included a Native American elder. He explained that if you want to send a message to someone, telepathically, you can place yourself against a large pine tree and the tree will help you transmit the message. Why is this so? A tree’s energy is like a radio station with no content. When you intend something it provides content, and the content is easily perceived by others who are sensitive. It is similar to shouting from the top of the tree. It is simply more subtle.
It is clear that trees are not only connectors between Earth and Sky, they are also profound connectors on Earth — both among themselves and with us, if we are truly open to them. It is important to note that proximity to a tree does not imply connection with the tree. Connection with a tree does not happen without conscious awareness and a feeling connection.
I’ve observed several situations which have reminded me of the story Peter shared. In every instance, people having strong connections with specific trees on or near their property have themselves — like Peter — experienced significant personal changes when the trees have been cut or damaged.
A wounded tree is being depleted of essential energy. Its energy has to go into restoration rather than experience. If sufficient vital fluids are lost the tree could perish over an extended period. The tree also becomes more susceptible to insects, all of which affect the quality of the tree’s vibration and its ability to exchange energy. For anyone connected with a specific tree, biological and emotional effects are definitely derived from companionship with the tree. As Peter observed years ago, the destiny of a tree and the destiny of anyone closely connected with the tree are connected; change for the tree indicates change for the tree’s human friend.
With a penchant for connecting with trees, I began sitting at the base of a large pine tree, amid a grove of pine trees near my former home, whenever I felt a need for calm amid a temporary storm. It was remarkably soothing, as my pathway was in the midst of change.
About six years ago — after an absence of ten years — I visited the place where I had first seen the dancing lights of elementals among the trees during my sunrise walks. To my complete amazement, as I drove along that quiet shoreline road, the lights of nature spirits were everywhere around me! I had no idea that the connection I had established there, years earlier, still remained — from the “point of view” of the trees and elementals. It was as though Mother Nature was smiling!
On that memorable morning, I saw that a magnetic channel that has been established does not go away. If you are comfortable somewhere and you make a connection with the earth in a specific place, you establish a vortex. The vortex — a magnetic field — remains as long as your interest in the connection remains. On a subtle level, Earth responds to human interaction. The dancing lights of nature spirits had reminded me that this is so.
Within the pages of Journey Through an Open Door, Mirin offered a metaphor for humans as connectors between Earth and Sky:
“Recently, our dear Tritia, you enjoyed a garden of raised beds overlooking the ocean and were charmed by the mixture of flowers and herbs and vegetables. Especially dear to you was one sunflower which had sprouted -- healthy and unexpected. Appropriately it occupies a central place in the garden. The sunflower presides over the garden and in heliotropic fashion it follows the sun’s path. You see this flourishing sunflower smiling as though aware of its own magical rightness in the garden. And this stirs your heart. We suggest the sunflower is metaphor, a reminder of where healing-into-wholeness humans need to be: planted in the garden, following the sun, and keeping a watchful eye over the landscape.”
Weaving
August 28, 2012
For the first time in months, I’m beginning a new weaving project. As the afternoon light bathes my loom, I am aware that — for me — hand weaving provides a multilayered metaphor. One part of the metaphor is similar to one I wrote about in Journey Through an Open Door — years ago — when I was describing my feelings of rapport with the beautiful coastline of Maine. In Journey I wrote, “The sea, the shoreline, the sun and the wind -- to me these provided a canvas. On this canvas one could paint one’s dreams in colors soft and gentle or intense and bright.”
Rather than painting dreams, I’m weaving a metaphor. As with choices one makes in life, there are many choices to be made when designing a project to be woven. Will the colors be soft and gentle, or intense and bright? Will the weave pattern be a simple one, or complex? As in life, “simple” can be either basic or elegant. And what about texture and choice of fiber? To me these choices are quite similar to the choices one makes in designing one’s life.
As with designing for weaving, the choices one makes in one’s life can range from highly individualistic to quite ordinary. A simple cotton or wool yarn, weft and warp the same color and woven in plain weave, is about as basic a choice as one can make. Woven expertly, however, the cloth is flawless with its own clear beauty. Woven inexpertly, the mistakes are glaringly apparent. A more complex pattern can obscure the occasional minor flaw, though careful weaving with no errors is surely preferable.
As in the step by step living of my life, weaving provides the opportunity to consistently learn more about the intricacies of relationship — fiber, color, texture, pattern. There is also the constant opportunity to evaluate a project — or my life. Is the fabric what I had intended? Or could I have made it better with some tweaking — in either the design or the weaving?
My fascination with yarn began when I was about five. It was then that I learned the basics of crochet and began designing and making tiny doll-sized “baskets”. My maternal grandmother, when told about my interest in yarn, gave me a set of very small looms which apparently had belonged to one of her children. I well remember that a partly woven project was on one of the looms. I remember the color — yellow. I also remember that the looms did not come with instructions. Although I did not learn to use them, it is likely that a seed was planted in my mind.
My loom which is currently bathed in sunlight is capable of far more complexity than I have yet explored. Because I know where to find the answers to my questions, there need never be a hiatus between interest and accomplishment. My only reason for setting aside my loom in recent months was burn-out. Following the completion of a quite complicated project, I felt I had pushed my patience to the limit. Weaving requires patience. Mine needed restoration.
We humans, most of us, have remarkable resilience. When new inspiration taps us on the shoulder, we notice. Inspiration often surprises us, taking us in entirely new directions, directions different from anything we might have here-to-fore imagined. Particularly if our hearts are stirred, we respond with movement.
Early this morning I awoke with the details of a dream clearly with me. In one part of the dream I was introduced to a woven bag with very special contents, apparently a model to adapt for a current use. It seemed to be something traditional, from an old lineage — possibly Peruvian. Impressed that I had been introduced to something special in the dream, I recorded the details on my iPhone. Curious juxtaposition. While weaving is cross cultural, dating from thousands of years ago, my high tech device is a contemporary tool — perfect for noting a dream which took me into an unforeseen direction inspired by a much older tradition.
Time and again I have found that, whatever my feeling about what’s next may be, there are always surprises. Often delightful. As I am getting acquainted with the newly inspired project, I have a strong feeling that a new pathway — in process for some time — is opening. Step by perfect step.
In 2004 I wrote, and began singing and drumming, a song titled “Weaving”. Two of the lines echo for me today:
“We are the weavers, weaving
We are the dreamers and we are the dream.”
to be continued next week)
“Inspiration often surprises us, taking us in entirely new directions, directions different from anything we might have here-to-fore imagined.
Particularly if our hearts are stirred, we respond with movement.”
Weaving, Part 2
September 4, 2012
As one weaving project flows into the next, my weaving metaphor continues. The design I’m working on now has little resemblance to the sample that was on my loom a few days ago although the sample, together with several previous projects, helped define what I’m currently creating — a new direction, a new pathway. Steps upon the new pathway are influenced by the steps I have formerly taken. Furthermore, it is easy to expect success if I have already experienced the feeling of success. And so it is with my life also. It does not occur to me that things may not turn out the way I had imagined them -- or even better than I had imagined. However, I’m aware that patience may be required. In weaving, as in designing one’s own life, it’s nice to have expectations built upon one’s foundation of successes.
In weaving, as in my life, it is I who decide how success is defined. Yes, the weaving itself should be as flawless as possible. Color, texture, design — those are all subjective. If it pleases me, I’m happy with the weaving. If I can see a way to improve it, I may well do a similar project with the new level of understanding that I’ve gained.
Fortunately, I enjoy all the steps of the weaving process — design, warping my loom, weaving, finishing the piece. So too, I find the steps of my life enjoyable; where there is ease in the flow, the flow is a graceful dance. I’m dancing.
Probably there are as many reasons for enjoying weaving, as an avocation, as there are weavers. My weaving teacher began weaving for a change of pace from his stressful career in the allopathic world. In the relaxation, he has become a superbly accomplished weaver. For me, weaving is a welcome contrast to writing. Weaving provides a delightful sense of tangible accomplishment. Weaving provides other contrasts as well. It does not require an iPad, an iPhone, a laptop — or even electricity. Weaving is refreshingly low-tech. I also love knowing that I can, if I choose, weave beautiful fabric which is uniquely mine. How nice to have this choice.
Last night, as I was drifting into sleep, I asked a question — inwardly. An image floated into my awareness. I’m wondering if I can somehow translate the feelings conveyed by that image into color and texture which is both serene and delightfully exciting. Clearly, the image was about the weaving of my life, and a new direction. I consider, yet again, the words from the song “Weaving” (as noted in “Weaving, part 1”):
“We are the weavers, weaving
We are the dreamers and we are the dream.”
I also remember a line that I wrote early in the pages of Journey Through an Open Door:
“Life as art was truly a possibility.”
I now see that the writer of Journey, also a “fiber artist”, has learned to experience “life as art”. The weaving continues, as does the dreaming.
I Do Not Have a List
September 11, 2012
Today’s clear and intensely blue sky, with its huge fair weather clouds, is a visual harbinger of Autumn. The warmth of the sun is contrasted by a northerly breeze; the air is filled with a new vitality. Autumn begins in little more than ten days. The Harvest Full Moon is one week later.
I’m beginning to count my harvest. My harvest includes some curious elements, which I surely had not anticipated. I had not anticipated celebrating I-Do-Not-Have-a-List. Yes, that is part of my harvest.
Lists, and in particular To Do lists, are — for many of us — an ongoing reality. I remember the beginning of my personal relationship with lists. After college, I structured all available free time with lists of what I intended to accomplish in any given period of time. It took me nearly three years to realize that, so intent was I on “accomplishing”, I had neglected to include an activity that had been important to me since childhood — long walks. With that stark realization, I began outdoor walks again — enjoying them with new appreciation. During my walks, I took stock of my life to that point. I made major changes. My lists accompanied me. They were now lists with a new focus.
Because my lifestyle has been mostly what some would call “free-lance”, self-discipline — together with personally created structure — has been important for me. My lists have invariably been a part of my structure, and I have enough self discipline for at least several people. (Some who know me would say that is a large understatement.) All of this has served me well.
All along, I’ve insisted to myself that my organization and structure allow room for spontaneity. Creating a balance point between structure and spontaneity can be elusive, however. And here is where new considerations have now arrived.
Increasingly, as the planetary magnetics change, it is essential to be fully present in the moment. For me, a To Do list made last week (or a month ago), with projects to be completed over time, is not something with which I want to begin each new day. It is also true that we cannot take our baggage into a new way of being on planet Earth. Outmoded habit patterns are unlikely to serve our evolution. The lists which once served me can now be interpreted as baggage. This I do not need or want.
I know that my innate feel for structure need not be accompanied by To Do lists, and I’ve disengaged from the expectation that I need them. For example, I do not need a To Do list for writing another book — a book that seems to be beginning of its own accord. I do not need a list for weaving projects. They will simply tumble out of the design portion of my mind and, once the materials are gathered, begin to take shape on my loom — in the creative now, not as planned weeks or months ago.
My freedom from lists seems to have been seeded — in a roundabout way — shortly after the Summer Solstice. At that point I bruised my heel during a long walk. I was told that the only way for it to mend would be to be quite careful with it for a number of weeks. Thus, my long walks — usually an integral part of my enjoying Summer — were completely out of the question. I cannot remember a Summer without hiking. What to do instead? I completed all projects that had been waiting for my attention. The list was not that long, but every item on it required a lot of my time. Day after day, I gathered my self-discipline — sometimes reluctantly — and made progress. Yoga-in-the-sunshine was my play time. And it did not stress my mending heel.
Throughout the completion of these projects, I had the very strong feeling that my life will soon be changing in major ways, and I must be free to welcome — in spontaneity — those special changes. I did not realize that “freedom from lists” was going to contribute so profoundly to a feeling of readiness for exciting changes. I find I am standing on a threshold where the view is wide and joyful possibilities are unlimited.
Yes, I-Do-Not-Have-a-List. That is, indeed, a curious part of my harvest. And I’m very happy with it. I am also happily resuming my long walks when Autumn arrives.
“Increasingly, as the planetary magnetics change, it is essential to be fully present in the moment.”
Equinox
September 18, 2012
Within the cyclical circle of the year, the Autumnal Equinox traditionally marks the end of harvest time. Day and night are now equally balanced as they were at the time of the Spring Equinox. Soon the nights will grow longer than the days. It is the Sun that causes the cycle of the seasons — and the cycle of the day — on Earth. Autumn corresponds with sunset in the cycle of the day. Just as there can be a quiet in-gathering, with every sunset, there is now a quiet in-gathering of the experience of Summer — if one is attuned to the cycle of Nature’s year.
From the dawn of time, humanity intuitively knew the message of the cyclicity of life as a circle or a spiral. These symbols were carved on stones all over the Earth. The old message of the cyclicity of life was replaced a few hundred years ago by the symbol of the straight line. Within this linear world view, progress and goal achievement are worshiped above wisdom and clarity of being. One of the results of this change has been a disconnection from the realm of nature, one of the most nourishing of spiritual sources
In our culture it is clear that many people are adrift, without the anchor of connection to Earth and Earth’s cycles. Humanity has largely forgotten that which is implicitly basic to life on Earth: interconnectedness with Earth. Our own well being is integrally connected with Earth’s well being.
Earth is now eloquently speaking of her own discontent — through Earthquakes (a daily occurrence worldwide) and through her electromagnetic fluctuations in response to increased Solar activity. These electromagnetic fluctuations affect each of us because we each have an electromagnetic field which, if we remembered the cycles of nature and lived in a simple way, would be in harmony with the Earth’s field. As civilization progresses down the path of alienation from harmony with Nature, individuals have no way to define their state of electromagnetic well being in correspondence with Earth.
Even the most well intended humans are feeling something they cannot explain or express.
As Autumn begins on Saturday (September 22), and the new season brings with it increasing winds of change, it is clear that one of the best gifts we can give to ourselves is the gift of clarity and clear intention.
(to be continued next week)
Harvest Moon
The winds of change have been blowing steadily since the Equinox on September 22nd. From the Equinox to the Harvest Moon, the pace of change has been intense — on both the inner and the outer levels For me, balancing among the worlds of the inner and the outer is a constant process. Beginning on Monday of last week (September 24th) I’ve given myself permission to take a short break from writing my weekly blogs while I watch and experience that which is currently unfolding. Illumined by the light of the Harvest Full Moon by night and the Autumn skies by day, it is a fascinating time!
October 02, 2012