the dream life

nature speaks

My friend Amy and I like to walk and talk. We're very good at it. We have a lot to say and our conversations are no-holds-barred. You absolutely need people in your life with whom you can talk about anything and everything and when you can do that while walking in nature, all the better.

We went hiking at Raven Run this morning. The temperature has dropped just enough to make being outside bearable.  Even though the creek beds were dry, the trails were lush with life: spider webs glistened in the sunlight, damsel flies and butterflies swirled around us.

We sat for a while at the overlook by the river.

Lately, I have felt a pull toward the trees. I find myself daydreaming about cabins in the woods, campfires, window screens, the canopy of stars, smoke rising from chimneys. Perhaps it's my usual late summer longing for fall, but I feel so strongly this need to live closer to nature for a few days or a week, to spend my days walking with the leaves and bark, listening to the animal music.

This, I've come to understand, is an essential part of my spiritual practice, one of the primary ways I connect and know mystery.  The back yard is good; into the woods is better. We are a part of this energy; the pulsing cyclical nature of nature. We don't live on top of the earth, we are a part of it. 

And nature speaks.

It's the heartbeat I need to hear; the place I need to place my head; the embrace I crave.

I was urged to commune with the earth mama today and I got the opportunity to do it in friendship. There was no peak experience, except that every moment is a peak experience.

Thank you, blue butterfly. Thank you for the whisper I can hear in my soul.

for the August Break.

This bliss

Do everything with so much love in your heart that you would never want to do it any other way.--Yogi Desai

This is my favorite weather -- sunny but cool enough for hoodies and campfires. Woody and I like to sit on the porch. He sleeps on the wicker couch right next to my chair. Cats come and go, soak up the sun and squabble. 

I listen to music and push words around and drink tea and sometimes I just gaze out, softly, at nothing and everything.

Yesterday

Tracy said, It's like walking through some sort of magical land, and it really was. It really is.

Equinox

On the first day of spring there was sunlight. We walked up to the park and noticed the buds, the tiny blooms. Woody turned his face toward the warmth and asked to sit in quiet meditation. We posed together in front of a spray of yellow.

Then Tracy and I went on an adventure.

Listen

This morning, the sun was shining and the neighborhood smelled like woodsmoke. This is my favorite weather: cool and bright. This is outdoor fire sweatshirt weather. This is hot coffee.

Up early, I could have used more sleep, but I set out on a walk. The birds insisted. 

A beautiful dog pulled back his lips to show me his teeth, so I crossed the street. I didn't try to push past him.

Last night, my brother's daughter told me about a traffic jam her father saw in India involving a car, a naked man and an oxcart. His girls like to talk about this, this adventure he's on so far away and by himself, but of course not by himself because we never really are. 

He's staying in a home with a family who doesn't speak English. They draw pictures to one another. 

The younger daughter held me around the neck and I dipped her back on to the floor and she said, thank you, my dear. In the hall, she caressed a polished geode, that's a beautiful rock. Earlier she whispered, I'm a fairy. 

I believe her.

These are the things; these are the moments.

In these moments, everything.

Gathering

I have this desire to gather you around me. 

Let's form a circle.

Let's light a fire in the center, surround it with stones. 

I want to sit with you beneath the dome of stars and tell stories.

Let's wear quilted blankets and soft knit hats, hold mugs of smoky tea, sing harmony.

I want to stay up with you, whispering.

Don't worry; spring is coming; there are cranes in the trees

Short Saturday (snow)

I made a visual aid today for the class that starts Monday, illustrating the chakra system. It was a surprising amount of fun. (I highly recommend getting a tri-fold presentation board and just making a poster about something.) I'm looking forward to this class more than maybe any other I've taught. It just feels really sparkly and exciting to me and I can't wait to see what happens.

I thought briefly about walking in the snow today, but soaked in a hot bath instead. 

I meditated, experienced a brief Reiki exchange with Karma (really) and listened to an illuminating Michael Neill show.

Somehow it's dark now. 

 

Rain

My desire to stay home on the weekends is intense and I felt it this morning. With the rain and the cozy lights, I wanted to be in the house all day, move around slowly, get into projects, clean, write, read, sit. At the same time, I felt restless. Tracy and I hadn't spent time together in a while and there were  few things we needed from the outside world so I also wanted to go out.

We decided on lunch and a couple of errands, but the day unfolded in that way days sometimes do with one thing spilling into another and this place leading to that and we ended up spending the entire day, the whole day, driving around town in the rain chasing down a few leads and a few dead ends.

Reflection

(We name things in this house.) 

Right now I'm sitting in the studio (we also call it the healing room) in the dragonfly chair. Karma is perched on the arm of the chair, purring. Gentle meditative music is playing. Om Shanti. On the table next to us, the Himalayan salt lamp is burning.

Downstairs, nag champa is lit by the door and the aroma wafts its way up the stairs to us.

There are fairies and mermaids in the window, the January sun shining through.

I have released plans today. I'm floating in yes, doing and not doing in accordance with my impulse.

Remarkable creatures

I was unable to attend Remarkable Creatures author Sean Carroll’s presentation on Wednesday night, but I did get to hear him answer questions during an informal session this afternoon. He’s a terrifically smart man, obviously--a scientist--but I was struck by his ability to speak honestly in a way that was neither lofty nor condescending. As I listened to faculty and students pose questions about gene sequencing and other topics that I can neither spell nor pronounce, I was impressed with Carroll’s ability to discuss these topics in a clear and loving way.

Yes, loving.

We are made of science and live the lives we live because of science and I respect that, but often when I listen to scientists speak, I’m cold. Often I feel they leave out or step around essential life ingredients and those ingredients are so important to me, I just stop listening to whatever it is they’re saying. Not so with Carroll, who seemed passionate about his work not only because of facts and discoveries but also because of mystery and dreams.

Garden offering

Community Garden flowers ready to be placed on lunch tables. They smelled like beauty.

A small list of rains

This is a luscious list of rain names. Since it's raining here today, I thought I'd make-up a few of my own:

Morning, evening

Our friend Tanya, who also cuts our hair, started working at a salon in our neighborhood. This is great news for me because I find it difficult to get anywhere. Businesses within walking distance of me make me so happy. Even so, even with Tanya mere steps away from my home (aka the giant magnet), I kept putting off and putting off making an appointment. The getting to places is hard for me lately.

Listening to the mother

We have a beautiful 

mother 

Her green lap 

immense 

Her brown embrace 

eternal 

Her blue body 

everything we know.

--Alice Walker

Some days you wake up and you know that things have to change; plans need to be made. You remember it's your year to shine. Some days you wake up in pain and think of your own words and you say, okay, body, what is it you're trying to tell me?

Spirit spoke to me this morning about base chakras, magic, healing. Spirit said, go to the trees, so I did.

Sheltered from the heat and the rain by the canopy of green, we listened to water drop on the leaves above us. I thought about my friend Olivia and the beautiful place where she lives and remembered that the earth provides always everything we need to know.