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Friday, December 29, 2017

What Whispers Await


A few 2017 ferments. Some assimilated. Some we're still enjoying.
Along with others much older.

Here we are... hanging on the burgeoning daylight of the recent winter solstice, and teetering on the cusp of the so-called new year. For me, this little patch of early winter is a time that squirms with the potential of new opportunities.

There's still plenty of night darkness in which to feel held and hidden, and just enough expanding daylight to feel the squirm of our inner seeds. It's a patch of time that invites us to take a risk, to pick a seed and nurture it in the quiet stillness of winter.

On this day in 2004 I published by first blog post. As I gaze into this reflection from my current perspective the act hardly seems risky. Yet I do recall how tentative - and dare I say brave - I felt when I posted that very first Welcome-to-my-blog-entry, a statement of intention that was clearly more for me than for any reader. Nonetheless, it is, in fact, the second post on December 30, 2004 that still whispers to me... whispers how I had (finally) grown comfortable with my own voice, and was willing to share it with others.

A lot has changed in these past 13 years. And a lot hasn't. Kinda like a 13-year-old crock of forgotten kraut. While my voice has evolved, it hasn't changed much. I recognize easily it in myself and in others. Yet, it has grown stronger and wilder, and while I can still meander like no one's business, it has grown more concise. And in this season it stirs, and squirms, and I wonder... what fresh whispers await me?

Peace.

Thursday, December 21, 2017

Sol Bread and Solstice Blessings

Sol bread. Mixed, kneaded, shaped and baked with the brightest of intentions to guide us through this long, dark night and to the sunrise of expanding light and hope and compassion and all that is Good and whole and holy.
And ale.
Solstice blessings!


Peace.

Sunday, December 17, 2017

Get Ripe, Get Ready, Go.


Today is a day of expectation. I feel anxious. I feel ripe. I feel ready. Yet not without a sense of trepidation. The feeling is palpable, visceral, undeniable in the light sweat that surfaces on my palms, and the physical vibration that cascades down my legs.

Seeking Deep Guidance is challenging. Dark. A touch frightening. If it isn't, you're skimming the surface and no matter how much you tell yourself you are, you're not seeking Deep Guidance. That's my story and I'm sticking with it.

Since my autumnal new year I have felt what I can only describe as a stirring of deep seeds. Seeds that are tugging at my conscious awareness... for the nurturance they need to survive past their sprouting. I feel something imminent awaiting me. And if feels vital.

I know this may sound odd or dramatic (or both) to many, and I'm cool with that, but this realization (like so many others) is born from the kind of personal work to which I've dedicated myself for - at least - the past 20 years or so, and I take it seriously. Thile this work has been externally supported, it has been exclusively solitary, and yet today I am reaching beyond my inner sphere of wisdom for external perspective, vision, and ::gasp:: guidance. It's exciting. It's disquieting. It's impending.

And I am ripe for it.

More on this later. Maybe.

Peace.

Friday, November 24, 2017

Dark Side of Gratitude


I give thanks for a boat load of blessings. Every single day.

Most often to the soil, the eARTh, Nona Gaia, and to my Rooted Ancestors who contribute so much to my life, and yesterday to understanding that Gratitude, while AWEsome Medicine, has a dark side that yearns for our attention.

May we awaken, honor, and enliven that dark side of Gratitude together, for the benefit of all. 


Peace.


Saturday, November 4, 2017

Now and Always, Peace


Today my meditation is simple. Peace. This is a longstanding meditation, and one that surfaces with a frequency. Daily, really. Peace. It's a word that I use daily, in one form or another. Peace. It's a dream we can make manifest, if even for a moment, for someone in need. Peace.

Let's do that today. And every day. Always. Peace.


With that, I invite you to join Mimi and all of us to Blog4Peace TODAY at blog4peace.com. Go there, now, if you haven't already to get your peace globe and share it with the world.

Peace.



Thursday, November 2, 2017

Welcome November


Welcome new year. Welcome winter's approach. Welcome the deepening darkness of the season.

October closed with a large pot of harvest stock simmering in the kitchen, and the baking of soul cakes as offerings to Nona Gaia, to her elemental kin (and mine), as well as to the more ordinary ancestors. Today, as November takes the stage, the stock will continue its simmer with more season-end harvests added to the pot. Like the spiral of life, this stock pot mimics the cycle, as will the nourishment it offers through the year ahead.

I love this time of year. But, then again, I love every season, for each offers its own unique challenges and blessings. Yet, as autumn spirals toward winter, the tasks of growing and preserving wind down, dusk and dawn close in on one another, and I find myself keeping quiet company with the gloamings of the day, as well as basking in the starlight even more than in summer. I feel Autumn's Shadow Medicine around me, and within me. And I embrace it.

After all, it is the new year for a proper heathen like me. Plus, it's my time of "birth" in this reality that we share. So October closes for me with a focus on harvests, sure, but also with pulling a single Crone Stone, and a numerological tarot spread for my linear age, each offering anchor meditations for my new year. Today I engage my thirteen-card full-year spread to further prepare me for the mysteries that await me in this next phase of my sol life journey.

So today - and every day - I honor the earth, Nona Gaia, all her children, the mystery of spirit, and I do my best to serve them in intention and in action. I am grateful for the challenge. And I pray that I am worthy. Ashe.

Peace.


Tuesday, October 10, 2017

When It Rains Naïveté


It seems I’m naïve. I was floored to the deepest depths of disbelief over this past weekend when I received a response (to something that requires no specifics) that went like this: Well, if they were dangerous they’d have been taken off the market.

It was spoken in absolute sincerity. It was not a joke. It was not sarcasm. It was someone’s truth.

It was a moment where I didn’t know, as they say, whether to shit, run or go blind.

So I did my best to share my perspective, offer resources, but dropped it, for my voice was being wasted.

In any event, I sat with the experience, to digest it as I continued some busy work. When the reality of the words finally got through to a place where I could feel their meaning, I cried. And I’m not a crier. Yet, when it rains from within, there’s Medicine to be made.

This is a sad, sad world where there’s still so, so many who accept without question that the commodities they purchase – from food to floor polishes, soaps to toothpastes, medicines to air fresheners, fertilizers to herbicides, and so on – are perfectly benign because they line the shelves of our frontline shrines of capitalism. Given all the information out there, this blind faith simply does not compute in any part of me.

In any event, sitting with the Medicine of this experience gave rise to a phrase that I’ve noticed resurfacing. A phrase that truly irritates me. I feel a visceral response to it. It saddens and angers me. And in this moment, as I document the Medicine of the experience, I realize my reluctance to challenge its use (or to even share the phrase here). My reluctance rests in the fact that I witness it being used by folks I know and care for.

And it’s this weird, counterproductive, counterintuitive compassion (or is it fear?) that is nourishing, in part, my newly realized naïveté. And that’s not Good Medicine.

So I pull this naïveté closer so that we may get intimate. I feel that disquieting sense of dis-ease, of discomfort, and it’s not reassuring. And as my discomfort waxes, Naïveté takes shape, and she pulls me closer, holds me like she cares, and dares me to consume and transform her.

And this, this I realize, much to my ever-familiar dismay, is the next Medicine I’m called to manifest and take in tempered doses.

The healing and the evolving never pauses. Damn it. And bless it. And get to work.

Peace.

Wednesday, September 27, 2017

Autumn Blessings

This past summer has offered me a bouquet of challenges and insights. So as fall evolves, and the leaves let loose, as the blooms fade, as the fruits and seeds take center stage, I welcome the deeper harvests of autumn, of letting go, of planting for some mystical future, of mulching with and composting that summer bouquet.

Prayerful ceremony roots the lessons, messages, and my own intentions in ways that I can revisit in these early days of autumn so that I may stay grounded in the vision I am dreaming and manifesting as I tend to the many urgent and practical tasks that nourish and sustain. Tasks like...

... fermenting tomatoes in hickory smoked salt for a delicious and nutritious beverage, or quite possibly a first frost Bloody Mary...

... honoring the abundance of Nature with beautiful feral apples, gifted by a generous and inspired spirit, put by in dried form, and in hibiscus-lime-apple jelly...

... garden tomatoes, jars and jars of puree for soups, stews, sauces, juices...

... preserving the bounty in every way I know, fermenting, dehydrating, canning, that I may Know My Food, and know that it nourishes and sustains Nona Gaia first, and me only as a bonus...

... preserving prayer, blessings, intention, healing energies and so much more by collaborating with Nona Gaia and her rooted children, my most sacred ancestors, by making magic together. Simple magick.

Holy, sacred tasks, one and all.

Peace.