Monday, April 28, 2014
Most friends are aware from firsthand experiences with me, that I have a huge appreciation for animal totems.
I’m a hippie dippy believer that there is a deeper, symbolic meaning associated with animals,
and that quite a bit of information related to our spiritual nature can be derived from any critter or creature that cross our paths: large or small, feathered, finned or furry.
My parents and aunt challenge family members to consider what we are thinking about at the exact moment a circling hawk catches our eye, or what larger meaning is being represented by the grizzly bear in our dream. It’s powerful stuff!
I’d guess this curiosity sprung from my parents’ interest in Native American culture. Growing up in a historic colonial house in Connecticut, you’d likely be surprised to see all the Hopi Kachina dolls, beaded jackets and woven baskets in our home.
My childhood dresser drawers and bookshelves are filled with old buttons showcasing Chief Joseph, tiny beaded Indian dolls and Zuni animal fetishes.
When my sisters and I were little, our family vacations consisted of car rides through dusty deserts and red rocked canyons. And at the time, we found it all a bit goofy – can’t we just go to Club Med like everyone else in the 5th grade?! But with a little distance between the Arizona desert and myself, I realized a handful of years ago how lucky we were to grow up in a family that put a strong emphasis on respecting all living things. We were raised not only to appreciate nature, but also to learn from it.
This past weekend friends and I were up in the Sierras, closing up our winter ski lease.
On our way to lunch, we saw a mountain lion.
Guys – I know. I freaked.
We couldn't be sure if our eyes deceived us, so we turned around and high tailed it back to where we saw him. He was gone by the time we got back to the sighting, but I peppered people with questions about mountain lions in the area, and we took to the Internet and confirmed what we saw.
A rare spotting in North Lake - but saw one, we did.
The message being sent through this animal is a powerful and personal one – most applicable to me, is the reminder to act in a way that is true to self – and tune out the noise from others.
Here is what we can derive from seeing the mountain lion: “Be graceful and easy in all you do; build your courage and use it to follow your heart, not allowing others to control your actions. You must claim your leadership abilities and start down the path you know is right. Trust the process and live your life with pure integrity. Incorporate the courage, strength, integrity and power the mountain lion represents.”
Happy, Monday friends.
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Last night, I set out to chase the moon.
I didn't know if the blood moon would live up to its name, and I didn't want to be disappointed.
But it did. And I wasn't.
The stars even got a little jealous of the magic of the moon last night, because a couple of them decided to shoot across the sky – daring us to take our eyes off of the eclipse.
We had to cross the bridge and climb up through the fog to lasso it.
That pesky marine layer put up a good fight, but we ended up finding the perfect spot in a quiet little park at the base of the bay.
(image is my own)
Sky gazing can make you feel so small I suppose, when you start to think about the universe stretching on forever.
But, it didn't make me feel insignificant at all.
Don’t laugh at me. But I felt really connected to the universe. Connected and curious.
And I felt a sort of comfort, thinking about all of the other people bundled up and bleary-eyed, craning their necks up to look at the exact same moon, at the exact same time,
well passed our bedtimes.
This big old orange moon, commanding the attention of everyone’s eyes – gently pulling us in closer.
It’s kind of a nice thought, right?
Wishing you the galaxy and beyond.
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
The word itself sounds happy. And bouncy. And light.
Last night, I dreamt that piles of flowers
came pouring from the sky.
Big cheerful petals and blossoms.
They fell gentle, on my chest.
With arms outstretched, and up towards the sun:
This is how I welcome April.
(image is my own)
You taught me lessons I never wanted to learn.
Although, I am grateful that I did.
You showed me the value of people.
Without consequence or judgement.
Without impatience or skepticism.
They let words and worries tumble out of me,
many of which had sour notes.
And they didn't rush to make things sweeter.
Instead, they let me empty every last thought.
this anchor I'd been dragging started to rust away.
It makes me happy. And bouncy. And light.