Tag Archives: land

Magic for a dark night

Posted on by myownashram

24 hours of magic. That was my weekend. It started with a Feri gathering in Seattle on Saturday evening. We did some mediation and chanting about Godsoul. There are no coincidences, and I was only mildly surprised that the chants overlapped with some work that I’ve been doing in relation to some non-blogged about stuff. I’ve woven those words in with my daily practice and that dovetailed nicely into the work with the group.

These days everything – everything – is about soul alignment. Listening, observing, sitting still, aligning, silence. In fact, I almost feel like I’m violating the very clear mandate for silence by writing, keeping a blog, being online at all. Almost, but not quite.

Owl as Godsoul (my caption), taken from Pintrest, credited to Gregory Colbert

 

Sunday morning I prepped for some evening ritual. Even though it was grey and raining here, I figured I could take advantage of whatever celestial forces were at play with the solar eclipse and dark moon. I sat, aligned, made kala, drew some tarot cards. I went outside and sat. I cleaned all the altars (all three of them).
Once the kids were asleep I sat and prepared for my Work. I aligned (again, never ending!) and made offerings, asked for whatever wisdom needed to be imparted, asked for any allies to come forth. Then I went out into my back yard and my outside altar, which is tucked into a corner, sheltered from the rain. I lit candles and sat some more.

I basically just observed my backyard at twilight. I walked around, touching, smelling, watching. What I noticed is that for all the happy, cheery qualities of the garden  it’s almost all non-native species. I got a strangely sinister feel in the half-light. It was sort of like seeing the usually happy, cheery person you’re used to in a moment of bitter snark when they think no one is listening.

Standing at the far side of the garden is one lonely fir-tree. A strange thing, out of place among all the bright colors of lilac and rhododendrons and other things I don’t know the names of. Last night I sat and watched it from across the yard and I got a sense that it was shouting, “OH THANK GOD SOMEONE SEES ME.” So I went over and let the rain fall on my head and just ‘held its hand.’ I gave it my offering of Washington wine. I think I found my garden friend.

I went back inside and did a tarot reading. No surprise here: silence and waiting came up. Nothing bad, just that forces are moving underneath, let them do their thing, breakthrough/something new will happen soon when the time is right.

Artifice

Posted on by myownashram

Earlier this week I went hiking with my kids. We went to the Watershed park in town. Olympia is chock full of parks and I’m enjoying exploring them. The forest reminded me of SE Alaska, only slightly more tame, open and safe. Many of the plant species were familiar, though the underbrush wasn’t as dense and more light was able to enter in. I was able to show my son two of my favorite plants, skunk cabbage and devil’s club.

 

Skunk cabbage is a bright cheery plant that grows in bogs. It loves the wet and murky, and thrives in wet lands. Its name comes from its scent: it smells mildly of skunk. On hot days in areas with a lot of skunk cabbage the smell can be overwhelming. I don’t know if it’s the smell that I like so much, its cheery burst of color in a generally green and brown landscape, or that I can identify it that makes me so fond of it!

 

 

Devil’s Club

 

Devil’s club is a tall and spiky plant. I associate this so strongly with my up bringing in South East Alaska. It’s everywhere there! The thick stalks have large spikes on them, but the wide (many hand spans across) leaves have fine, little barbs underneath as well. It grows red berries.

I have read that this plant is useful for traditional medicine, though I’ve never tried it. This is a plant to avoid at all costs. The author of page that I took this picture from says how afraid s/he was of this plant. I have grown up around this plant and while you don’t want to fall into a devil’s club patch (the spikes hurt and cause itching, redness, swelling, and I’ve heard, infection) or get whacked with it, I’ve never had any problems with it. It’s been kind to me. Perhaps it’s the mutual respect.

Contrast this park with my back garden (here is where a picture would be helpful, sigh). I love my back garden: it’s beautiful, peaceful, friendly, colorful, and full of good vibes. But it’s not wild. In fact, it’s dominated by non-native species. I know for sure that the ivy covering the fence and the bamboo alongside the house are not native. I’m guessing the pear trees, lilacs, and other plants aren’t either. The land lord loves to garden and he takes special care of our grounds. But I notice this creates a distinct difference between the wild wood and our garden. I notice that not too many birds visit us either. They seem to keep to the neighbors’ yards.

I hadn’t realized that last point, about the birds until only recently. I’ve been doing my sitting practice outside in the mornings (we’ve had 10 days of sun, but the sky is turning). I’ve been trying to spend as much time outside just being and listening as I can. I want to observe, feel, listen. Yesterday morning I noticed about 5 or 6 different types of bird calls while sitting. But only one came from my yard.

At snack time, the kids were outside with a plate of leftover sausage. I was just inside the back door and they came in to see me. The back door was open and the plate in a direct line of sight. A raven flew down and snatched a piece of sausage, dancing around to get it firmly in its beak. It looked at us with its sideways glance and then flew off. A few minutes later it landed again, this time on the back of the lawn chair. It checked us out, then hopped – one, two, three hops – to the plate, poked around, and took another piece of sausage. It looked at us again, I bowed, and then it flew off.

At first I thought it might be a large crow, but its sharp, curved beak gave it away.

I love these ‘intrusions’ of the wild. I love seeing the spiders weave their webs in the trees. I enjoy the sugar ants attempting their parade to my daughter’s chair (where all the good stuff falls!). I love the early mornings and all the bird sounds – before the hum of traffic from the street just one building away drowns out the quieter, smaller birds, and rustling of leaves.

It’s hard to connect in a deep way with this place and land, with the cacophony of man-made  noises, the bright lights of the neighbor’s porch light eternally on, with tame (and not so tame) cats stalking the wee creatures, and with my children demanding that I watch and attend.  But each effort to connect makes the next effort easier.

Here is my morning prayer: that my eyes would be open to see, that my ears would be open to hear, that my heart would be open to understanding, that my garden would be a blessing for all living beings.

Silence

Posted on by myownashram

When I envisioned this blog project and thought up Place as a quarter I had ideas about getting in touch with the earth: its plants, animals, spirits. I wanted to get back in touch with parts of me that haven’t had much exercise in the last decade or so; the pieces of myself I encountered when I went hiking in Alaska, went fishing with my father, or marked seasons by the skies. I wanted to learn about indigenous peoples. I wanted to learn about this place called Washington.

But this quarter has been about one thing, and one thing only it seems: REST. With rest comes simplicity, less, letting go, and silence. My own practices have simplified. I’ve been sick every other week it seems, and the kids too. I’ve had to strip down to what is essential in running my house. I’ve been writing less. From several sources, human and other, I’ve heard I need to stop doing, rest, be quiet. I’ve come to accept that. 2012 might be the year I don’t join things or try to start something new or move anywhere. There are some seeds that have been planted, but I’m not going to talk publicly about them yet.

What Place has turned into has been heavily influenced by my reading on Shinto, an indigenous Japanese practice that seems slightly shamanistic, mingled with Buddhism, and…. something indefinable that I find at the core of the traditions I love.

Shinto believes in kami, spirit, and kami reside in everything and everyone. Purification, honor, and prayer are central components in Shinto practice. I have taken to clapping and bowing in front of my outside altar when I sit and do my very simple practice: clap, clap, bow, breathe, chant, breathe, listen, offer thanks to the spirits of the land and to the spirits that work with me, clap, bow, refresh the water offering. It can take 5 minutes if I’m short on time, beset by children, or not feeling well; it can last as long as feels appropriate if I have more space.

Nothing sexy is happening in my spiritual life. In fact, I don’t feel all that much; I don’t feel particularly connected. But that’s part of a practice – I am practicing, every day. Hopefully, by going through the motion and putting in the time, when whatever needs rest in me is fully rested and healed I’ll be ready for what comes next. That doesn’t mean I’ll abandon simplicity or householding, but hopefully I’ll have created a stronger, sounder container for holding more, whatever that more is.

In my resources section I have listed some books that I’ve been reading if you’re interested in knowing more.

A rambling post about spring

Posted on by myownashram

May Day and Beltain. One a socialist holiday and the other a neo-pagan cross-quarter holiday. Also, my mother’s birthday.

I love holidays and try to observe as many as I can as I am able. I enjoy the Celtic neo-pagan observances, as Ireland’s climate and seasons have been somewhat relevant to the places I’ve lived (except California, most of the Celtic and British holidays made no sense whatsoever there). While I am a huge fan of this holiday’s calendrical and thematic opposite, Samhain, Beltain rarely speaks to me. Is it because spring is often my down period? Getting into a festive mood, or even a sexy one (to honor the fertility of spring) has always been a challenge for me at this time of year. As I posted before, by June I’m usually in full swing. But now? I’m still recuperating, if that’s the right word.

I’m not sure why spring feels like recovery for me.

I grew up in Alaska, where the pull of light and dark is so much more extreme than anywhere else I’ve lived. At winter solstice, we had 18 hours 6 minutes of darkness, with very little twilight time. At summer solstice, we had 18 hours, 6 minutes of daylight, with twilights that lasted hours. I never suffered from seasonal affective disorder, though many people I knew struggled with the dark (and wet, grey) periods. I felt the light and dark in my bones. Spring and autumn were essentially non-existent seasons in SE Alaska. They lasted all of two weeks, maybe 3 or 4 weeks in a good year. I didn’t know that October was my favorite month, that it could be the best, rather than the absolute worst, month until I moved to Washington state for college. So while I’ve embraced autumn, spring still feels like the least familiar of the seasons to me. My springish hesitation doesn’t make any sense. Maybe there’s a different reason altogether.

So Beltain…. I’ve just never really felt it.

But here, in Olympia, spring is most definitely, gloriously here: lush, colorful, moist, changeable, verdant. Looking up from my computer and peering through the window into the back yard I see six different shades of green, the bright pink of some rhododendrons, a host of periwinkle bluebells, an unidentified plant with yellowy-orange shoots about to bloom, the gentle purple of a lilac tree (my favorite scent ever), and the hot pink buds of some decorative flower. It’s a riot out there.

One of the great things about Olympia is its Procession of the Species parade. It occurs every year at the end of April. I went this year and it was hands down the best parade I’ve ever seen. I was giddy. To me the entire weekend – a community wide arts walk, a luminary procession the night before (past the kids’ bedtimes, alas), and the parade itself – is a kind of Beltain celebration. [Since I remain without a camera, please click here to see some photos.]

Another spin on May Day is the socialist history of the day. Today is a big day of Occupy protests. I normally leave politics out of this blog, but I feel bringing up Occupy is relevant. Beltain is a tricky holiday. Its Pagan roots and neo-pagan flavors are about sex, fertility, the explosion of energy that spring brings, as well as the connection to and gratitude for a fertile earth that provides for us. It’s anarchic at its core – as all free and enthusiastic acts of fertility are. It is a perfect spiritual counterpart to the socialist and anarchic activities of the political May Day.

I doubt you will be surprised to learn that I am fully supportive of the Occupy Movement/s. Anarchy is advanced living, and I am all for a world where we have the inner strength of ethics that would allow us to pursue our own interests without infringing on the well-being of others.

What’s amusing to me is that Occupy started last fall, while I was living in rural Wales and today is my first opportunity to check out the Occupy movement in person…. yet my plans were foiled by my son, who scheduled his own hair appointment for today. During the arts walk my family was checking out some incredibly beautiful woodwork, hosted at one of the salons downtown. My almost, but not quite yet, 4-year-old son recognized that it was a salon and asked us if he could get his hair cut. We encouraged him to ask the owner of the salon, and ten minutes later he had an appointment card for today. He is so excited. So much for protesting and refusing to buy anything today.

How are you celebrating spring? Are you honoring May Day in some way?

I have decided that Olympia’s Procession of the Species weekend is my Beltain celebration. I’ll support the socialist May Day ideals by shopping locally (as usual). And after I post this I’ll take my cup of tea, go sit on my porch and let the wind blow around me. I’ll count all the colors I see and smell the air and just be grateful for abundance all around me.

Verdant blessings to all!

Everything I need for this quarter I learned from Hinduism

Posted on by myownashram

On my last entry the ever insightful Niklas suggested I think about things in terms of house-holding. I’ve been mulling over that this week. I’ve barely tended my outside shrine, hardly had time or focus to sit. I find that I need to adjust my shrine, or else accept that everything will rust. But there’s always one more load of laundry to deal with, one more diaper to change, one more need to meet.

While the ideas of Place and Land have little overlap with Hindu spirituality proper, the lessons I learned last summer are ever so applicable now.

I feel like I’m doing things all wrong this quarter, that I’m being lazy, that I haven’t spent enough time, that this quarter will end before it gets off the ground. I remind myself that this project is just a beginning. None of this ends when my project officially ends. There is no doing it wrong. Last summer I wrote about being my own guru, about listening to what I need, about going deeper within. If I am honest, I need to rest. Spring, while on the surface a time of bursting energy: blooms, blood, blossoms, has always been a challenge for me. While most people feel the rush from the sun and the pull of the earth, I have often had my worst depressive episodes in the spring. Spring actually makes me want to hibernate. It’s not usually until June that I snap out of it and start to enjoy the pulse. I had forgotten this. I will let myself rest.

That realization brings me to quote myself: “I am starting to see that perhaps the questions of discipline, at this point in time, for me, may not be what I need to be focusing on.” I struggle with Doing It Right. But for my purposes, right now, doing it at all, and doing it with an open mind and heart, is more important than doing it Right.

I discovered though my Hindu practice that my practice is as a house-holder. “Every day I care for my family and as a parent I have to love and care for my kids without attachment to the outcome. Parenting is a spiritual practice! This is my karma-yoga. It is also a form of devotion, even as I cultivate relationships with the gods [or land spirits].” Of course, there are struggles. Am I really resting? Am I really taking care of my family? Couldn’t I be out tending my altar right now? And it all swings back around to the beginning and worrying about doing it right.

There is no way that I am going to learn everything or even most things about this new state, new town, new home in just this quarter. There is no way I am going to make lasting relationships with the spirits of anything in a mere 12 weeks. But like I discovered with Hinduism, I am making a start; I am forging new relationships, new practices, and this quarter is a beginning, not an end. I have every intention in getting back to Hindu practice, and the Land certainly isn’t going anywhere.