I am excited to see that the Bugs have returned. I saw two Mosquitoes this morning, and I know that there are many more beyond my vision. They are a vital part of the chain of food that feeds all of my creature cousins. The return of the Bugs reminds me of the plumes of Moths we would see around the cabin during the warm snaps we had this past Winter. What was implied but not necessarily clear in the appearance of the Moths of Winter was the absence of Frogs and Turtles and the Spring Birds that rely on these plumes to survive. The Moths were born without predators, and gathered in their thousands to die as soon as the cold returned. This gets me thinking about what else is absent but implicit in the scene I see when I look out from the cabin and into the Woods.
Tuesday, April 24, 2018
There were young Deer with Mother down by the pond this morning. The rising Sun, still low in the East made their outlines glow like the halo of the sun during an eclipse. My culture teaches me that the young symbolize Hope. They represent possibilities, and the chance of a better future. What is implied but unstated in this sentiment is the idea that our present needs to be changed. How did we come to this place where today is always the beginning if a better tomorrow? I am curious about the effects this ideas has on my experience of today. The Deer wonder off deeper into the Woods, and I'm pretty sure the Mother Deer is not thinking, “I hope these young ones do a better job than I did.”
Monday, April 23, 2018
Bird calls are the words of the woods. They are the most obvious expression of the forest for me because I love to listen. The calls most clearly convey who's there and where they are, but they also remind me that the forest is alive, growing, and changing every second, jut like me. I am grateful to have such a peer to travel with.
Sunday, April 22, 2018
When worry or doubt enter my thoughts, I find that focusing on the choices I have to make diminishes their power. Transforming thoughts about what might happen or what could happen into ideas about what I am choosing to do right here right now, move doubt and worry move into the background.
Saturday, April 21, 2018
When I'm not laughing, I'm not letting my Spirit laugh. When I'm not dancing, I'm not letting my Spirit dance. When I'm not crying, I'm not letting my Spirit cry. When I'm not shouting, I'm not letting my Spirit shout. When I'm not breathing, I'm not letting my Spirit breathe. Why do I hold my Spirit back? Who is “I?” “I,” is the sum of all the cultural invitations that try to convince me what I should or shouldn't be, what I should or shouldn't do. I tries to protect me from the consequences of stepping outside the box, and doing the unexpected. I is the protective parent. I will never stop caring. I may never stop worrying. Thank you I for all you have done for me. Let me learn to recognize and cherish the Love in your protective voice, but only from a distance.
Friday, April 20, 2018
As I sit this morning, the Air I exhale flows from me onto another purpose. The sunlight that reflects off of my body bounces onto some other surface, warming it as well. I am participating in a constant cosmic process of change. This gets me thinking about how important it is for me to be paying attention to what it is like for me to be in this body right here, right now. The change I participate in reminds that what I will experience tomorrow or what I experienced yesterday is not part of my experience of right now, but if I pay it attention it can effect my experience in the moment. Today, I choose to ask myself, “What is it like to be in the body in the moment right here right now?” Right now, it is good.
Thursday, April 19, 2018
When Woodpecker pecks and it is loud and resounds across the forest, he is not looking for breakfast, he is looking for a mate. The loud pecking is his song. It says, “Here I am. This is me.” That is what I heard East of the cabin this morning. His song was loud and clear. Woodpecker got me thinking about how much I love to sing, and how long it took me to just stand up and do it. Does Woodpecker hold back? Does he wonder about how he sounds? Did he wait for the right time to really put it out there before he started singing this morning? Did he wondering about what others might think? I don't know, but I sure did. Even now, there are times when I find myself holding back and wondering what people will think, allowing that thought to keep me from letting lose. When will it be time for me to fully let lose, and who gets to decide? What would Woodpecker do?