Do You Create or Maintain?

As I watched a woman in a well-to-do neighborhood open the door to her housekeeper and child at 8 a.m. on Friday morning, I mused, wouldn't we all prefer to be the one living in that house rather than coming to clean it? Perhaps. Yet Nature herself continually creates, maintains and destroys; that's the essence of the life cycle.

While I think of myself as primarily a creator, the world needs daily maintenance — not least because of the mess we bipeds tend to leave behind. I wipe down sinks in public restrooms and often have to clean off outdoor tables before I can sit to eat at places like Whole Foods; even the staff can't keep up with the detritus.

Daily life is one of maintenance, renewal. Poet and novelist Marge Piercy writes,

            "The work of the world is common as mud.

            Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.

            But the thing worth doing well done

            has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident."

(excerpted from To Be of Use, © 1982)

           

Yet I find myself disdaining some whose work entails tidying up the universe rather than contributing something fresh. The maintenance manager at a local community center seems comically addicted to keeping the exterior doors locked and "undesirables" (read: homeless people) out. When I've sat inside to use their high-speed WiFi, I witness him check and lock the doors at least a half dozen times within a few hours. It seems almost a pointless exercise, because people stream into the center for classes, meetings and other events all day long.

Directly across the outdoor quad from the community center is a new senior wing. It's ADA compliant in every way — except the architects didn't take into account seniors' diminished upper body strength and agility. Several women have become trapped in the restrooms, whose heavy oak doors are almost impossible for someone using a walker or wheelchair to negotiate. So the community center's counterpart now has the additional responsibility of constantly making sure all eight restroom doors (two for each gender, at opposite sides of a long corridor in a 2-story building) remain stoppered open each weekday from 9 to 5. There's a poetry to this, and a bit of Divine humor as well.

Years ago, metaphysical teacher and author Louise Hay made many tapes accompanied by the musical group Alliance. One I listened to repeatedly was, "Doors Closing, Doors Opening," and while it focused on personal growth rather than physical structures, I find it amusingly applicable to the situations I've described. The main lyric went, "Doors closing, doors opening, doors closing, doors I'm opening. I am safe, it's only change. I am safe it's only change…"

Are you opening doors or closing them? Do you create or maintain? Does your life weave between the two, and if so, are you growing in ways that feed your soul? Mother Nature is always in motion. It's important to clean up our mess and keep the doors to possibility open. And maybe, unlocking what seems a necessary barrier will let in some surprising gifts that may change your perception and release a fresh flow of creativity.

Remembering Angeles Arrien 1940-2014

Yesterday I picked up the May/June issue of Common Ground, an alternative magazine I sometimes read here in northern California, and turned to the final page, Last Words. I found a quote by one of my great teachers, Angeles Arrien, and below her name, two dates with a dash between them. It took my mind several seconds to process what this meant. NO! Angeles can't be gone; she was only 74. She was in the midst of a teaching schedule for her newest book, Living In Gratitude. She's a pillar of wisdom. And now, she is an ancestor.

While so many have transitioned already this year, including my own mother, Angeles' death hits me hard, because it's out of the blue. Judging by the events planned for later in 2014, I imagine it must have been sudden. But though I've scoured the web, so far I've only discovered the date, (April 24^th) not cause. Not that it matters. She was obviously complete here.

What a gift this woman was, and what a gift she had: the extraordinary ability to meld anthropology, psychology and comparative religions to help those of us privileged to study with her learn how to live a practical spirituality, or as she referred to it, to "walk the mystical path with practical feet."

I took her Four-Fold Way Foundational Training at Esalen, on the ruggedly beautiful California coast, in January 1994. I'd read her book, The Four-Fold Way: Walking the Paths of the Warrior, Teacher, Healer and Visionary the previous summer, and the talk I attended then convinced me she had much wisdom to share. I enrolled in the weeklong training, though by the following winter I was deep into my awakening odyssey (disguised as serious illness), and could barely function on the physical plane. Nevertheless I made the 5-hour journey, and my emerging state of unreality probably enhanced my absorption of her teachings.

What I learned is how deeply Angeles embodied what she taught. The tenets of the Four-Fold Way are:

Warrior: Show up and choose to be present

Healer
: Pay attention to what has heart and meaning

Visionary
: Tell the truth without blame or judgment

Teacher: 
Be open to outcome, not attached to outcome.

I internalized these truths into a little sing-song: "Show up, pay attention, tell the truth and let it go!" It's a credo for living that serves us well throughout our lives.

What Angeles brilliantly modeled transcended the personal growth community. Her books and practices have found a place in corporate, academic and medical milieux, as well as the non-profit sector. When I think of her, some of the words that come to mind include authenticity, generosity of spirit, wholeheartedness. And joy.

Heaven has gained another angel, so aptly named. Thank you for shining your Light in my life, dear one. In boundless gratitude, blessings.

Grace Notes: Other Mothers and The Mother of All

I didn't send my Mom a Mother's Day card this year; she made her transition in January. I did send a trio of cards to a beloved 100-year-old friend who's been a spiritual mother my entire life, from the days when I'd paste my artwork on the kitchen window she'd pass on her way to work (and to which she'd respond in poetry), to our adult friendship spanning four decades. Ellie and her husband never had children, yet I don't think that's why so many "young people" (as she characterized those in their 50s when she was 92!) have adopted her as a surrogate Mom. It's because, by her very essence, she engenders the deep love and appreciation we associate with mothering.

I've been blessed to enjoy this kind of relationship a few times in my life. Another was with a woman whose husband I met in the park, not long after I'd graduated from college. He brought me home to meet his wife as though I were a flea market find, and the three of us became fast friends during the year before I moved to California. I was just launching my life at 22, and Sten and Ethel provided the support and encouragement I needed to thrive — right down to lending me their old car for the final weeks prior to my relocation, so I could get around town once I'd sold mine. Ethel had multiple sclerosis (MS), and her optimism and sunny disposition in the face of her illness seem even more amazing to me now. For her birthday that year I sent a singing balloon-a-gram; the center balloon was shaped like a heart. She told me this balloon kept its helium for weeks and followed her around the house! That's the power of Love.

Another spiritual mother for 26 years and counting is Louise Hay. An old friend gifted me with Louise's signature book, You Can Heal Your Life in 1988, the same year I was blessed to meet Louise in person when she held a "Hay Ride" event in San Francisco. Her breakthrough personal growth work has sustained and healed me on many levels since then. Louise is just nine months older than my biological mother, so in many ways she really does feel like my Mom.

Who are the "other mothers" in your life? Mother's Day is a beautiful moment to let them know how much you cherish their love, their support, their wisdom. Whether they know you personally or are a public figure who's helped you via their planetary service (Oprah springs to mind), take a moment to acknowledge this gift. In the level playing field of the digital age we can connect with almost anyone, yet your thank you needn't be splashed across the social landscape unless you so choose. If you send your message via the quantum field, it will be received — at an even more profound level.

If you can and want to connect in 3D, that's always a delight. I'll call my 100+ year-old friend in the morning, and thank her again for shining her Light in my life.

Finally, there is our collective Mother, Gaia, in all her (wo)manifestations. During my awakening journey I realized how profoundly I yearned to nestle into the nurturing archetypal arms of the Great Mother. I found her in trees, in our animal kin, in metaphysical bookstores and sacred ceremony, and in the wisdom of those who had gone before me and could give a name to this longing.

Reaching our Light means daring a descent into the dark, to the ancient womb of Mystery that lives within each one, calling us to awaken and claim our power. Men and women alike are capable of this kind of birth, which knows no gender — only the willingness to open to the immanent truth of our being.

Everything arises from this awareness: how we move through the world, how we effect change, how we define what "matters" (which comes from the same root as "mother".) Uncloaked, we are cut from whole cloth — "material" in its original sense. When we abide in the Mother, who we are matters — and we are always Home.

Mother yourself, today and every day. That's the greatest grace note of all.

~ Much Love to you ~

Beltane: Light Night of the Soul

We're all familiar with the classic "dark night of the soul", even if we don't know the terminology: the last few years, especially these past few weeks, everyone's felt the energies ramped up to gale force as lunar/solar eclipses, meteor showers and a Cardinal Grand Cross (the 5^th of 7 Uranus/Pluto squares plus) buffet the planet and liberate us from old beliefs and behaviors. We're being cleaned out and burnished to roar our "YES!"

May 1^st ushers in Beltane, one of eight Shabbats on the Nature-based Wheel of the Year. [The others are the Solstices and Equinoxes, Lammas (August 1st), Samhain (October 31st), and Imbolc (February 2nd).] Beltane breathes renewal into our cells as we acknowledge the elemental world and the advent of summer. For our Southern Hemisphere allies, the Wheel of the Year is reversed: they now celebrate Samhain. 

As Stargazer Li reminds us, May 1^st also commences the time cycle known as the Night, "to source what is from our own deep dreaming depths... which carries us the following day into the Moon of Liberation, to release the old stories and live at the next level...

As Samhain honors the power of death, so Beltane honors the cycles of life and rebirth. Beltane takes place in Taurus, the zodiac's earthiest, sensual sign, and focuses on exuberant sexuality: the pollinating of flowers, the lush cornucopia of fruit-bearing plants and trees, the reproductive cycle of the entire natural world, from birds and bees to people and trees. It's a fire festival of fertility in all its forms — and thus we dance in homage to Aphrodite, the Goddess Herself.

Are you ready to dive into a Light Night of the Soul, a sacred reUnion of our masculine and feminine selves? The temperatures are soaring into the 90s this week, welcoming the solar eclipse and activating our solar/cellular recognition of the Light we are.

Ignite your Light, and let it shine. As Pharrell sings, clap along if you feel like a room without a roof…

How to Grow New Feet

"My feet are killing me!" "I'm dead on my feet." "Have you got cold feet?" "Don't drag your feet!" "Are you back on your feet?"

We bipeds depend on our locomotive appendages a LOT. So it's only natural that our feet might get weary from all the wear and tear and decide to take a vacation. Not our actual physical feet, perhaps, but the ones belonging to our digital appendages. Such as my laptop.

After replacing the little hard plastic "feet" that keep the machine positioned just slightly off the desk, allowing airflow, I soon noticed that all but one had again gone AWOL. I assumed they were gone forever, like one half of a pair of socks after a wash cycle. But while mischievous socks seem to time travel, never to return, laptop feet apparently visit an alternate universe for a while and then magically reappear.

It might be akin to what happens at puberty: kids have a growth spurt and "grow a foot" seemingly overnight. But even the most ambitious teen has yet to grow three feet in a matter of weeks. That's what my tiny plastic computer feet did.

After at least a year, they began reappearing on the carpet — where they absolutely had not resided before. I don't have pets or children; no one else could have moved them or replaced them. Yet here they were, one by one over the course of several weeks, mutely calling, "I'm home!" (None of them sported a tan or souvenirs, so I can't verify where they'd been.)

I'm waiting to see whether the fourth will arrive, though I'm delighted to welcome the trio home. I discovered each returning foot accidentally, either by stepping on it, thinking I'd tracked in a pebble, or noticing what I thought was a chocolate chip. Amazing and amusing, because of course I was completely unattached to something as negligible as laptop feet. Yet here they are.

It's easy to manifest what we have no attachment to in our lives. I've proven this in my own life time and again with items similar to laptop feet, which can appear as soon as we envision the request. Yet this complete faith that the universe is always answering is the great challenge most of us are still aiming to master — myself included. We believe the grander requests will take a long(er) time to show up, so they usually do.

This is a fulcrum moment to grow new feet — or kilometers, if you choose — so we can leap into parallel realities and timelines and return with alacrity. Stand up for the true magnificent YOU. That's the feat we can all grow into, now.

Worth

Owning our worth, whether as an entrepreneur, planetary change agent or life partner, means standing in our value proposition. This is who I am. This is my worth. This is my wealth. 

What is the connection between health and wealth (which also means well being)? "Misfortune" means you miss your fortune! It's playing with old paradigms (pair o' dimes) until we cut the cord, choose a new path. Read the rest!

Here Comes the Judge...

Distortion …disruption … fluctuating field … these are some of the keywords for now, and while I've just written about the explosive energies April is showering upon us, I was still caught without my frequency attunement wand, because we're all playing the game:

On Friday evening, after singing the praises of the organic hot bar and deli at a food co-op that just opened in my town, I went there for dinner. I sampled a few of the evening's dishes (the menu changes nightly, as the Culinary Institute of America-trained chef likes to experiment) and was ruminating about my choices when a young woman with a nose ring and toddler approached me. I'd seen the child cavorting earlier and smiled when the woman asked, "Are you going to buy something?" I thought perhaps she was going to ask if I could get some cash back for her, so considering in a fraction of a second whether I wanted to do this, I replied "Maybe." Then, to my surprise, she added, "Well, I've just seen you sample everything…"

I said, "Oh, do you work here?" She said "Yes, and we've had a lot of problems with people tasting the food for free and then leaving." Starting to get annoyed (especially as I'd just spent weeks telling everyone in town how terrific the place was), I told her I was a regular, and that she was welcome to ask the kitchen staff to vouch for me. She said, "I already asked them." Incredulous, I asked, "And they said they don't know me?" I then named a certain male cashier, who has been my checker virtually every time I've shopped there. She said, "He's off tonight." At that point I lost it, and went to the kitchen staff myself, asking if one of them could go to bat for me. Rachel (names have all been changed) said helpfully, "Well, you do look like a homeless person" — I was wearing a flannel shirt and loose capri pants.

By this time I was livid, and Melissa (who'd launched the inquiry) had disappeared. Rachel eventually found her in another section of the large market and told her I bought food from the deli "at least once or twice a week", but the damage was done. I ate my dinner in a cortisol flood.

Fast-forward to last night, after I'd regained my equanimity. The sweet young deli worker, who had told Melissa, "Oh yes, she comes in here all the time!", shared an amazing story of her own: earlier on Saturday, she (Celestia) had been "profiled" when she went shopping at our local hardware store, which offers a 20% discount on Saturdays. Celestia has a part-time job as a gardener, and Ace Hardware offers an exceptional outdoor division. The store was very busy, and Celestia didn't need any assistance, yet, she told me, an employee shadowed her while she shopped — even following her up to the register, where she spent $125! Oh, did I mention that Celestia is young, wears dreadlocks, and sports a nose ring and facial tattoo?

So we both saw the humor in the entire episode: I'd thought Melissa was panhandling me because she was young, had a nose ring and a toddler; she'd thought I was freeloading because she saw me sample several dishes, my clothing was loose and casual, and she heard Celestia's "She's here all the time" as sponging! We were all judging from misinterpretation.

How do we grow beyond assumptions based on race, age, appearance, and other external differences that make us the unique souls we are? We have white-collar crime, and blue-collar saviors who create programs that uplift and heal communities. And we're still so quick to cast the first stone.

How do we segue from being nuclear reactors to becoming seedlings for a new humanity, a New Earth Nation, learning from Gaia how to live relationally? It's a challenging time to hold our center while holding change; the more we can appreciate the humor of the moment and respond not from habit but from a story re-write, the faster we evolve to a 5D, heart-centered species.

Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go get a nose ring.

Novels and Cartoons and Bands, Oh My!

I've written often about what you know, before you know that you know: i.e., the intuitive awareness we all possess that signals the inner wisdom available to us throughout our life, if we pay attention — and trust it.

But I've learned as much from music, fiction and even clever television that's woken me to how much we take for granted, never knowing a term's origins, like the preteen inquiry from a few decades back, "Did you know Paul McCartney was in a band before Wings?"

This whack on the side of the head happened again yesterday when a novel discussed Mount Parnassus ~ the second book to mention the iconic Greek landmark in as many weeks. This time, though, it triggered me to look it up, since I lived on a street intersecting Parnassus for 11 years. This is where I launched my writing career — and the name "Parnassus" in literature is metaphoric for poetry, literature, and learning: Mont Parnasse in France. So I guess it is a "what we know before we know that we know" moment after all.

How about Led Zeppelin? The name was suggested as a joke for a lead balloon, which is how Keith Moon of The Who predicted the new group would fare. But the yoke was on him: Jimmy Page loved the name, the band dropped the "a", and a megagroup was born. Yet I never questioned the origin or meaning of Led Zeppelin while listening to their music growing up.

Finally, how about that scwewy wabbit? The writers of Bugs Bunny cartoons were notorious for embedding adult references into kids' TV programs, so the cartoons worked on multiple levels. In one memorable episode, Bugs is being chased by hounds (nothing unusual there) when suddenly he halts, holds up a sign that reads, "A Tree Grows In Brooklyn," and all the dogs race off in another direction. It's funny to a child — but it was decades before I learned of (and read) A Tree Grows In Brooklyn, a famous 1943 novel by Betty Smith. The title itself is a metaphor for the Tree of Heaven.

So question reality, especially now, when signposts of the new are embedded in everything, and we're attuning to a higher frequency. You never know what you'll read in the music or hear in the words that guide our lives.

What Jesus Never Said

For years, when attempting to explain how I view Jesus as one of the world's great spiritual teachers rather than a religious figure, I've said, "Jesus wanted us to emulate his teaching; he never said, "Start a religion and name it after me!"

Now, to my amazement and joy, Pam Grout, author of E2, echoes and validates my perspective in her hugely funny, on-point book about how we can prove our thoughts create our reality. The book is an easy read and a hoot: Jack Canfield (of Chicken Soup fame) says, "Pam has combined the humor of Ellen DeGeneres with the wisdom of Deepak Chopra."

 Here's the juice on Jesus, p. 34:

"The FP (Field of Potential or Possibility) is a force field that's equally available to everyone. It's a natural capacity in all of us, not an exclusive gift bestowed upon a few. In fact, that is the primary lesson Jesus taught.

"To worship Jesus the way we do is a little like worshipping Benjamin Franklin because he first discovered electricity. Ben Franklin sent that kite up in an electric storm so we could use the principle he demonstrated. He didn't do it so we'd build temples to him, paint pictures of him, and wear little commemorative keys around our necks. He wanted us to take the principle of electricity and use it — which we do to run radios and computers and air conditioners. Had we stopped with Ben's discovery the way we did with Jesus's discovery, we'd all be sitting in the dark.

"Benjamin Franklin didn't invent electricity any more than Jesus invented spiritual principles. Lightning and the resulting electricity have always been available. We just didn't realize it or know how to access it. Galileo didn't invent gravity when he dropped the wooden ball off the leaning tower of Pisa. He just demonstrated it.

"Likewise, Jesus demonstrated spiritual principles that he wants us to use and develop. We've wasted 2,000 years worshipping this idol of him instead of using the principles he taught us. Look through the Bible and nowhere does Jesus say, 'Worship me.' His call to us was 'follow me.' There's a big difference."

So get out your BF key and electrify your life with the Jesus principle: greater things than these shall ye do!

When You're About to Give Up…

"Come in out of the darkness." 

 

~ Stevie Nicks, Bella Donna

We're living our Light more magnificently than ever before, shining our radiance in everyday interactions. It's never been so easy — or, in some ways, so strange. Archangel Michael describes how it looks: "Our peace and comfortableness with the shifting energy will help other people feel more comfortable. We will do this from our hearts...by just walking through a grocery store, the post office, or sitting in a movie theatre. People will automatically feel a little bit calmer, because we are carrying that pivotal, new orientation point inside us..."

I've been noticing that people tend to park next to my car, even when an entire parking lot is virtually empty, or sit next to me when there are numerous other seats available. At first this disturbed me; then I began to understand. People feel drawn to the energy those of us who have walked this road carry, even if they are unaware of it or can't articulate it. Our role now is to listen them into awareness.

An example: our local senior center offers high-speed WiFi, though I don't usually get much work done there because as soon as I sit down, someone wants to chat! The conversation has been desultory — until last week. A woman sat by me, spoke casually at first, then shifted into deeply personal material. I felt called to respond as I would with a coaching client, and watched her growth in the moment as I validated how she was stepping into her power. It was remarkable, beautiful, and thrilling to observe: I was simultaneously participant and witness to the process.

Archangel Michael says, "Instead of taking months or days, it is taking hours or minutes to shift. Our service to the world is anchoring and just staying in that new center point...We are of service to the planet by BE-ing who we are."

Gillian Macbeth Louthan adds a surprising caveat: "When you feel like destroying something that you have worked on or worked for or worked toward — you are at the edge of succeeding. At the very edge of success, there is an 'initiation via potential sabotage'. Many are comfortable in succeeding a little bit, but not totally."

Darkness and Light are a Möbius strip, the both/and of life in 3D. May Sarton's Invocation to Kali expresses it best:

"Help us to be the always hopeful

Gardeners of the spirit

Who know that without darkness

Nothing comes to birth

As without light

Nothing flowers."

Can You Hear the Love?

So you're tone-deaf? Can't carry a tune in a bucket? You can still be a powerful sonic force for Love on Friday, February 14^th: the 12^th annual World Sound Healing Day, which takes place at a throat chakra near you.

Sound is our original sense. The first sound we hear is our mother's heartbeat; the last sense to leave the dying is hearing. On World Sound Healing Day, we each have an extraordinary opportunity to heal Mama Gaia and ourselves with a tool everyone possesses: our voice.

To participate, simply sound a love-filled "AH" for five minutes at noon local time. "AH" is a universal heart sound that, when projected with focused intent, has the ability to heal and transform. It's our sonic valentine for global harmony.

If you're ready to take your sonic sisterhood (or brotherhood) to the next level, visit the Temple of Sacred Sound, an interactive site that enables you to hear yourself within a series of Toning Chambers that resonate to OM, AH, and HU.

This is the essence of 2014: harmony can be as easy as breath, when we approach it with LOVE.

Blessings!

Ley Down Fear, Lift the Light!

February 2^nd is Imbolc (literally, "in the belly"), a sacred moment when the Light returns. Imbolc is a powerful portal: the exact midpoint between Winter Solstice and Spring Equinox. As the first "cross-quarter day" on the Wheel of the Year, it heralds the Equinoxes and Solstices, as well as Beltane (May 1st), Lammas (August 1st), and Samhain (October 31^st).

This year, February 2^nd is also an auspicious moment to connect, clear and heal the ley lines of the planet. You're invited to join with your galactic brothers and sisters at the time and place you choose (sunrise or sunset are optimum, but your heart focus is what matters most). The Ley Lines Project says, "It is as if Gaia appears to be especially invigorated by a low elevation Sun. Her ley lines appear to dilate and increase both in their energetic and information carrying capacities during this twice-daily solar aspect. So, with the pathways enlarging to at least double their capacity, is this not an opportune time to purge them of unwanted energies and replace them with the light of compassion?"

Mystic Ariel Spilsbury writes, "This year, Imbolc is presenting us with a 'gateway', indicating work to be done inside and outside ourselves. Let us use this sacred time to reflect and confront what is hidden in ourselves, what must be exposed and examined before action is undertaken at Spring Equinox.

"Imbolc is a 'fire festival'. Imbolc marks the transition and transformation from death to rebirth, as the light of day grows significantly longer and you can be assured that Spring is right around the corner. At this time the animal world comes out of hibernation, the birds fly north again. This is a very holy day for initiations and a day to devote yourself to the God/dess and your own spiritual path. This is also a powerful time for intuitive and visionary work and to seek inspiration. At this time if you really tune in, you can just begin to feel and sense the 'inner stirrings', the seeds beginning to stir, and the inner light growing stronger.

"It is time to let go of the past and look to the future, clearing out the old, making both outer and inner space for new beginnings. This can be done in numerous ways, from spring-cleaning your home to clearing the mind and heart to allow inspiration to enter for the new cycle. What was born at the Solstice begins to manifest, and this is the time for individuation, as we each light our own light, and set ourselves tasks and challenges. We nurture and kindle our resolutions and begin to look outwards again, do outer activity, although first we look deep within to discover what potential lies there waiting to be fulfilled." 

Where's the Survivory?

Welcome to the second year beyond prophecy (which ended when the world didn't, in 2012). We are now in a time unwritten, and everything is possible — although, as I said in a recent radio discussion, Embodying Your Deepest Truth, not necessarily easy. 

Fourteen in numerology equates to 5, which has always been "my" number. The fifth element is about going beyond: the ancient Greeks called it quinta essentia, the pure and concentrated essence or invisible connector that allows earth, fire, water and air to communicate. While the grounding energy of four is significant, five takes us into unexplored territory. It's pure Spirit, the marrow, the core of creation.

There's a lot of power in five, which configures a star. Cross-culturally, five is a centering and balancing element. As the center of the Native American medicine wheel, five signifies the place of transformational possibilities. Five symbolizes access to the Spirit world in the Mayan tradition. Coming to balance and resonance means learning to honor the both/and, becoming inclusive rather than exclusive.

In her January newsletter, Gillian Macbeth Louthan nails it: "Number 14 is a karmic number and not the easiest of energies to walk through. The receptive quality of the 14/5 allows change and freedom.

"2014 will offer the opportunity for magnetic communication. Both gains and losses are temporary, due to the strong currents of change. In 2014 you will need to rely on self. It's a mistake to rely on others. Everyone is in their own wind tunnel. Rely on the intuition of the self, the voice within."

All of this is prelude to this morning's brief encounter. Since I wrote about how we can learn to listen at a deeper level in my January What Shines newsletter, this was especially amusing. As I was walking back to my vehicle, parked around the corner from the library, a woman in a wheelchair rolled by and asked, "Where's the Survivory?" I micro-processed her inquiry, translated what I thought I'd heard, and pointed, "It's right there!"

She had asked, of course, "Where's the library?" But pondering the medical drama unfolding with my birth family, along with some of my personal challenges, I was in my own wind tunnel. Seeing someone with a disability approach, my creative brain heard what resonated with my thoughts. Fortunately, I mentally clarified (like butter) or I might have answered her with a bewildered question of my own.

So be prepared for this astonishing and potentially rewarding double-seven year. Macbeth Louthan says, "Seven in all of its forms is the vibration of the spiritual warrior. One who walks a fine path within self and Soul. Seven works for the light, by the light and with the light. Seven is a place where wonder, magic and miracles are seen as natural events. Seven is your natural state of being. In 2014 see all this times two, opening unpredicted doorways of opportunity."

Ecstatic Disharmony

"The longest night

The wheel is turning

What will we give to the night?"

This is the sacred Winter Solstice chant Caroline Casey included in her mythological trickster-redeemer  sharing on Tuesday night at Earthrise Retreat Center in Petaluma, CA. Situated in verdant silence far above the freeway, with a full Gemini moon casting a luminous spell, we drank deeply of the darkness with a fervent urgency. 

"Ecstatic," Caroline reminds us, literally means, to stand outside ("ex" + "stasis") — which is what those of us called to midwife this transitional time on the planet feel, to the marrow. Embodying the sacred means returning from the Otherworld with wisdom gained. "To love disharmony back into harmony creates a greater harmony than existed before," according to author Michael Gruber.

What will YOU give to the night? The old way (but not the Old Ways!), the one right answer, outmoded beliefs and behaviors, fear of the unknown? Whatever it is, toss it into the cauldron and affirm, "xxxx is gone with the night!"

~ Blessed Be ~

Want to Be a World-Class Wordsmith?

I was blessed to have an exacting, exciting English teacher in high school who loved language as much as life itself, and was on a mission to see as many students as possible embrace it ardently. His work could have been called, "Extreme Literacy." I earned highest accolades for penning a 7-page essay without once using the word "thing" in lieu of a specific noun.

Those of us who signed up for Mr. Boyce's Advanced English class worshipped his precise pedagogy. One of the enduring expositions he shared is Leo Rosten's The Power of Words. I rediscovered this luminous learning in a file today and want to share it with you:

The Power of Words

by Leo Rosten

  

They sing. They hurt. They teach. They sanctify.

They were man's first immeasurable feat of magic.

They liberated us from ignorance and our barbarous past.

For without these marvelous scribbles, which build

letters into words, words into sentences, sentences

into systems and sciences and creeds, man would be

forever confined to the self-isolated prison of the cuttlefish or the

chimpanzee.

"One picture is worth ten thousand words," goes the timeworn Chinese

maxim.

"But," one writer tartly said, "It takes words to say that."

We live by words: Love, Truth, God.

We fight for words: Freedom, Country, Fame.

We die for words: Liberty, Glory, Honor.

They bestow the priceless gift of articulacy on

our minds and hearts — from "Mama" to "infinity."

And those who truly shape our destiny, the giants

who teach us, inspire us, lead us to deeds of immortality,

are those who use words with clarity, grandeur, and

passion: Socrates, Jesus, Luther, Lincoln, Churchill.

Give thanks for words' endless riches.

Primordial Sound: Reflections on the Life and Death of Drummer Layne Redmond

I spent the first year of a three-year healing hegira in New York State, in an altered state. It was a homecoming at a higher level along life's spiral: although I'd grown up just over the border in northern New Jersey, being in New York in 1994 was time out of mind, sacred space in the deepest sense, even as I was remembering what that was, even as my severely ill body brought me to places where my soul rejoiced at finally being unleashed to embrace my purpose this lifetime. Stripped raw, connected only to Spirit, I followed a divine thread to my healing destiny. 

During an extended stay at one country home, I heard about a performance that was to take place soon at The Widow Jane Mine, an underground chamber where the audience would sit on hay bales. It sounded intriguing, inviting, essential. I had to go.

I did not yet know who Layne Redmond was. When the Drummers Were Women, her definitive book about the ancient art of frame drumming, was three years in the future.

At the event, I purchased her first CD, Since the Beginning, entranced by her rapturous visage on the cover. Then I entered the mine, and opened to the unimagined.

I can still hear the invocation as their voices reverberated, reaching us before the candlelit raft bearing the drummers floated into view. "Ah, ah-ah-ah, Ah, ah-ah-ah, Ah, ah, ah ah, ah ah ah, ah ah AH!" This was primordial sound; the drum is the sound of our Mother's blood, the first sound we hear in the womb, and the sound of Gaia's heartbeat as well. It entered me.

I found myself at night for weeks, months afterward, singing this incantation as I remembered the stars, felt the Moon inside my being, began to heal/whole into the truth of Oneness. I was never so joy-filled as during this awakening time.

I was stunned last week to learn that Layne made her transition just before Hallowe'en/Samhain, on October 28^th, a time when the veils between worlds are thin. I was more shocked to realize she was just five years older than me. In 3D she clearly had much left to do; she was in the midst of continuing to expand her global work. But her soul knew a different timetable. Her soul felt her work here was complete.

I am blessed to have witnessed this master of the frame drum and her Mob of Angels in New York in 1994, and again in California in the late 1990s. Layne Redmond played a pivotal role in my awakening journey, though she did not know it. In this moment when all the timelines are merging, as solar cycles and planets dance us awake en masse, I say a humble thank you. Thank you for drumming me to consciousness, for your generous heart, for sharing your manifold gifts as manna for us all.

Blessings, Layne Redmond, now adding her joy to the Music of the Spheres…

Samhain, Spirit and Sacred Story

In the U.S., Halloween is all about costumes, trick-or-treating, and occasionally, mischief. But on the Celtic calendar this day, known as Samhain, ushers in winter and the mysteries of the dark. October 31^st precedes Day of the Dead/All Soul's Day on November 1^st, a paean to the ancestors. The dark side — that which is hidden from view — calls us to remember our transpersonal soulscape.

As mythologist Kathleen Jenks writes on Myth*ing Links, this is an excellent time to explore what is ending or "dying" within our own beings. What do you need to release in order to move forward in your life? Now, when the veils between worlds are thin, is a ripe moment for each of us to embrace personal and planetary transformation.

And the souls of those who have gone before can still share their wisdom with us, if we invite their collaboration. Visionary activist astrologer Caroline Casey likes to say, "We cannot live through the dead, but we can invite the dead to live through us." What gifts are asking, aching to be brought forth through you in this quantum moment, when the entire world is awash in tremulous rebirth?

The real treat of Samhain is the opportunity for quantum growth. The trick, perhaps, would be turning your back on those inner voices begging you to shine your brilliance and step fully into your aliveness, passion, purpose and service.

It's time to remove your mask, and step fully into who you came here to be.

What's Needling You?

Several times today I felt my clothes attack me. Once when I was out walking this gorgeous autumn morning. I plucked at the label on my shirt, and went on. An hour or so later I felt the stab again. The label didn't seem that rough, but it certainly was bothersome. I moved it and thought about cutting it out later. Then I visited my favorite consignment store, where I tried on both pants and shirts (hence removing all my clothing, and getting dressed again.)

Driving to the library, I felt that stab again. Perplexed, sitting at a red light I reached carefully to the point of pain and to my astonishment withdrew…a needle and thread! I burst out laughing. How is it possible that my pants (for this is the color the thread matched, though I don't recall mending them recently) made it through a wash and dry cycle, onto my body, then off and back on, all with a needle intact?

It's another example of Spirit's delicious sense of humor. At first I thought, "needle in a haystack," though no resonating images came to mind. But when I wondered what might be "needling" me, I had to smile. There are so many irritants vexing us these days, as Uranus and Pluto square off in the heavens and we face our underworld demons and rebellious, quixotic, breakdown/breakthrough events here on earth.

The key is to follow the thread to magical, mystical moments in positive expectation, unattached to outcome, unafraid. It's a tall order, and one we are all capable of stepping up to and into. We're swinging wildly between connected, congruent, 5D transparency and understanding, and 3D anger, disappointment, overwhelment. It's OK; it's all good. When life needles you, find out what you need in that moment, and thread your way to the next adventure. Haystacks have baled. We can, too: bundle with your besties, and carry on…

A Universe Ringing with 'Yes'

Spiritual humor is delicious, and the transparency of now makes it all the more helpful, if we just keep surrendering, surrendering, surrendering:

Two days ago I took my ancient Toyota in for service. Yesterday, satisfied my trusty little car was again in tip-top shape, I drove around town in near-triple-digit weather (the air conditioner died years ago) doing Friday afternoon errands. At my second-to-last stop, I parked, turned off the engine, and the car was dead. Not even a click.

After I phoned AAA, I watched myself spiral into negative mind chatter, amused that this is still my default setting after all the self work I've done. Like many of us, I've been balancing a lot lately, from a family health crisis to a broken crown that created a spike in my mouth, to a plumbing emergency and someone reneging on a verbal business agreement after I'd completed my half of the exchange. So a minor glitch like a dead car battery (I surmised) shouldn't have made much of a dent in my composure. But I had perishable food in the car in the blazing sun, and suddenly it was the proverbial straw.

I turned to a woman loading her car two spaces away and began spouting frustration, and once she realized I wasn't on a cell phone she came over and held the space for me in an extraordinary way, not only validating what I was sharing but matching it, point by point (e.g., her vehicle, the same age as mine, had failed the day before; her husband is facing surgery, etc, etc). Her equanimity brought me back to center as I explained the car issue wasn't a big deal at all; I just needed a break — and some support!

The tow truck team was fantastic. Eric popped the hood, moved the battery cable a millimeter and the car started up fine. Perhaps the connection came loose during the repairs, or going on and off the lift. I was good to go in about a minute and profoundly grateful. I completed my errands and drove home with the radio on. And this is where the spiritual humor enters in.

KZST in Santa Rosa has a daily game called "Drive o'clock trivia" where, at 5 pm, the DJ asks a question and callers who think they know the answer call in. It's almost always about numbers. Yesterday's question was, "One in 10 people use this business daily. What is it?" And of course I knew. I called and said, "Is it a towing service?" He exclaimed, "It IS a towing service!" I added, "And I know this because I just called them, 90 minutes ago." He said, "Well, I'm sorry that's why you know the answer!" But it was perfect.

This is happening in every realm now, the immediacy and synchronicity of instant return, often in a humorous fashion. It's a good way to stay grounded. Another example: I was discussing with my family member why fall/winter is not an ideal time for surgery, because it's the season of contraction, a time for rest and reflection as Nature releases the old and prepares to go into a dormant state. An hour after the call, I received an email with the subject line, "Honoring the Natural Rhythm of Autumn", which speaks to the mysteries of life and death and how this month is a great time to remember our ancestors as we approach All Souls Day/Day of the Dead.

We are always being answered. The Universe is ringing with love and compassion the moment we have ears to hear. I'm grateful for these Spirited reminders of the wisdom and support that's always available, usually liberally laced with humor. As our journeys continue to heat up, as the whole world awakens in an explosion of confusion and joy, remember the help that is here for us. And be as kind to yourself as you can.

The Melanin Wars

I was one of the unlucky ones. Born with just a smidge of melanin, I can't pass for coffee or any type of tea; just a distant cousin of pink grapefruit juice. In cultural parlance, I'm Caucasian. And even though I've never been persecuted for it (except one time in New Mexico, but I'll get to that), I can appreciate how the amount of melanin in one's skin affects who they'll become.

Consider the Melanin Megastars: people with skin so black it's almost blue. They're melanin rich, whether they reside in a poverty-stricken African country or in the United States. Then there are the Melanin Middlin': people whose skin color may be a toffee brown or other shade that reflects a blended heritage. Those who hail from the Mediterranean, India, Latin countries, and Native Americans generally fall into this category.

But the melanin-deprived are a vast group, spread across the globe. We don't talk about being Melanin Midgets; it simply isn't a subject for polite discourse. But it rankles. Why can't our skin glow with the bronze hues other ethnicities take for granted? To assuage our privation, some of us may occasionally use an epithet to describe members of one of these privileged groups. It's an attempt to camouflage our sense of inferiority.

Perhaps this is what happened with Paula Deen, who made headlines recently because she admitted to using the "N" word in the past. Ms. Deen was promptly and roundly punished for her error, losing both face and finances in a very public way. It was a temporary slip, long ago, she says. But as Oprah so trenchantly observed, we're not yet ready for a "real conversation" about racism in today's world.

One of my few direct experiences of racial prejudice occurred nearly two decades ago, when I lived in northern New Mexico, an area whose inhabitants are a mix of Latino, Native American, and Caucasian, living an uneasy cultural détente. In the midst of a labyrinthine healing quest from chronic illness, I was also opening to Spirit, not working except on myself, and living on savings.

Shopping in a local pharmacy for personal care needs, I observed that my cashier appeared to have a cold. Solicitously I asked, "Are you sick? Maybe you should take a few days off." She flared, "Look, Lady, I gotta work! I don't have no sugar daddy!" Obviously, since it was the middle of the day, she assumed I was a woman of leisure. I understood her rage, and that it wasn't directed at me personally so much as at her life situation. It was nonetheless shocking, because it was new to me. Yet this is what melanin-endowed people experience perhaps every day of their lives.

What will it take to begin the conversation? What if melanin was valued instead of money? African Americans would be wealthy beyond measure; Caucasians, not so much. Just because people of minimal color may be Melanin Midgets doesn't mean we have to be mental midgets.

We have bigger issues to resolve that affect us all, regardless of the amount of pigment in our skin. Let's grow beyond the Melanin Wars. We've transcended the apocalyptic drama of 2012. Surely we can do this.