In 2003 I went to England on a sacred sites tour with Shawna Carol. Our group included musicians from the Seattle and Boston areas, who had performed Goddess Chant, which Shawna wrote. The tour included Stonehenge, Avebury, and Glastonbury. We opened the Glastonbury Goddess Conference with Goddess Chant, learned SpiritSong and each had our own uniquely transformative experiences. I became intrigued with walking patterns.
Walking the sacred geometry at Avebury and on the Tor in Glastonbury felt so very right to me. There was something in the patterns that spoke to me. After returning home, I found myself dancing patterns and involving them in circles and rituals. They have something to teach us.
Last month on a trip to Sante Fe, I had the opportunity to do a sacred journey and once again this sense of walking patterns inspired me. I have been working with ideas for creating healing circles using these patterns. But they have not really moved beyond ideas, yet.
Looking at the year ahead I’ve been making decisions about what I want to teach and in what form. I feel called to do something at the full moon and the new moon each month. Moving with the rhythm of the moon always feels natural and fluid to me. I also enjoy celebrating the cycles of the Sun – the equinoxes, solstices and cross-quarter marks.
The marking of my year in alignment with the movement (patterns) of Moon and Sun make me feel secure and connected no matter what else is going on in my life. As I reflected on this, I wondered why I have been so adverse to other patterns in my life.
I remember my mother teaching us a song as young girls. Each day had a particular task. On Monday you washed the clothes, Tuesday you changed the beds, etc. I never liked the song. When I graduated from college I sank into a deep depression at the thought of getting a regular job and every day being the same for the rest of my life. My spirit feels so inhibited by the thought of this kind of structure. But it is a pattern. I am a pattern walker. And right now I have a need for a bit more structure in my life – a pattern that’s more fixed. This aversion is standing in my way.
Yesterday, I had an "AHA!" moment. My aversion is not to patterns, but rather to patterns that have no significance to me and are rigid. There is flux within the patterns of Mother Nature. Yes, the Moon is full about every 28 days but she moves through different constellations and so the energy of each full moon is different. It carries different lessons.
This ancient wisdom I have known for a very long time. I simply need to apply it to find the natural and fluid patterns in my body, my work and my life. I’ve known this. I’ve done this. Yet, somehow in a time of great change we can forget to use our sacred knowing and tools. (This is actually a useful design. Because each time we learn a lesson, we deepen our understanding and enrich our lives.)
Pattern walking is not only about walking along sacred geometric lines. There is a sacred pattern to the living of our lives. When we lose touch with that pattern we lose the drive that moves ideas into actions. And so, my work as a Pattern Walker and Way Weaver begins with the exploration of key patterns not just on the ground but in my life. These patterns are a meditation, a prayer, a road to our highest purpose.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
Where It All Started
Change can creep up on you and you find yourself dancing intricate steps with it before you’re even aware of its music playing. It’s only upon looking back that you can see when the change began. Even then, it’s not always a specific moment that brings about change. Sometimes a series of events or internal longings create a fecundity from which transformation grows.
For me, this current initiation – or cycle of change – began with a dream in 2003. The dream came to me in a time when I really felt in rhythm with my work and life. I was working with individual clients, mostly as a massage therapist and I was teaching healing apprenticeships. I designed my apprenticeship program to be useful for both personal and professional work. Most of the apprentices used the work for personal reasons, a few to add tools to their private practices.
As with many power dreams, I did not understand it at first. The dream continues to return to me from time to time and my understanding continues to grow.
I am walking along a high plateau in the Southwest. It’s rather barren. The temperature is hot, but not oppressive. I come suddenly to a precipice overlooking a very deep canyon. Oddly, the canyon has no outlet and it’s so deep that I cannot see to the bottom. I perceive only darkness but I sense movement at the bottom and a strong desire from whatever beings live there to get out. They call to me in a very visceral way. I feel that I must help them.
I look over the edge to see a way down. It’s very steep and offers very few footholds. I cannot see any possible way for me to descend, short of falling. But their call to me is too strong and I decide I must try. I sit on the precipice and then turn to lower myself over the edge. As I do so I shape shift into a spider and I spin my way down with ease.
As I get near the bottom I hear a scratchy, roiling sound. I look below me and see that the bottom is full of snakes slithering over and under each other. They are aware of my presence and I can feel their hopes that rescue has come.
When I get close enough, I feel one of the snakes slither onto my back. I immediately begin to climb up to the plateau above. I then descend and another snake climbs on. I do this for a long time. The snakes give me thanks and I feel their relief and joy, but I am growing very tired and there are still so many of them.
It occurs to me then that it is not necessary to carry each individual snake on my back. I could weave a ladder up the side of the canyon, so they could climb up themselves. I do this, creating two ladders: I weave one as I descend again and another as I go back up. When I reach the plateau I rest on the edge, now human again. I feel a sense of accomplishment and enjoy it as I watch the snakes climbing their way out and moving off behind me along the plateau.
I look around and notice how long this canyon, that isn’t a canyon, is. I cannot see where it begins or ends, it’s too long. I look across and find I want to be on the other side. It’s a narrow canyon, but way too far for me to jump. I know it’s the next place I need to be. I feel a strong pull but no sense of immediacy, so I stay where I am.
After sitting with the dream for several days, I understand it is telling me that I need to continue to shift my work. It feels like an affirmation of my desire to do more teaching and less individual work with clients. It also speaks to me of the need to give people tools so they have the ability to "climb out" on their own.
Snakes are a power totem for me and speak to me of transformation and the feminine. Much of my work at the time was with women. Most of my clients and most of my apprentices were women. I worked in several women’s circles and was very involved in the Women of Wisdom Foundation. Empowering people has always been a strong aspect of my work. Witnessing the transformation my clients and students went through was very satisfying. the dream seemed to be telling me I was generally on the right track.
The dream suggested that something more awaited me, but that seemed far away.
Feeling that I understood the dream, I let it go and continued with my life and work. It affirmed I was on the right track. Only now do I understand the dream was much more precognitive than affirming.
For me, this current initiation – or cycle of change – began with a dream in 2003. The dream came to me in a time when I really felt in rhythm with my work and life. I was working with individual clients, mostly as a massage therapist and I was teaching healing apprenticeships. I designed my apprenticeship program to be useful for both personal and professional work. Most of the apprentices used the work for personal reasons, a few to add tools to their private practices.
As with many power dreams, I did not understand it at first. The dream continues to return to me from time to time and my understanding continues to grow.
I am walking along a high plateau in the Southwest. It’s rather barren. The temperature is hot, but not oppressive. I come suddenly to a precipice overlooking a very deep canyon. Oddly, the canyon has no outlet and it’s so deep that I cannot see to the bottom. I perceive only darkness but I sense movement at the bottom and a strong desire from whatever beings live there to get out. They call to me in a very visceral way. I feel that I must help them.
I look over the edge to see a way down. It’s very steep and offers very few footholds. I cannot see any possible way for me to descend, short of falling. But their call to me is too strong and I decide I must try. I sit on the precipice and then turn to lower myself over the edge. As I do so I shape shift into a spider and I spin my way down with ease.
As I get near the bottom I hear a scratchy, roiling sound. I look below me and see that the bottom is full of snakes slithering over and under each other. They are aware of my presence and I can feel their hopes that rescue has come.
When I get close enough, I feel one of the snakes slither onto my back. I immediately begin to climb up to the plateau above. I then descend and another snake climbs on. I do this for a long time. The snakes give me thanks and I feel their relief and joy, but I am growing very tired and there are still so many of them.
It occurs to me then that it is not necessary to carry each individual snake on my back. I could weave a ladder up the side of the canyon, so they could climb up themselves. I do this, creating two ladders: I weave one as I descend again and another as I go back up. When I reach the plateau I rest on the edge, now human again. I feel a sense of accomplishment and enjoy it as I watch the snakes climbing their way out and moving off behind me along the plateau.
I look around and notice how long this canyon, that isn’t a canyon, is. I cannot see where it begins or ends, it’s too long. I look across and find I want to be on the other side. It’s a narrow canyon, but way too far for me to jump. I know it’s the next place I need to be. I feel a strong pull but no sense of immediacy, so I stay where I am.
After sitting with the dream for several days, I understand it is telling me that I need to continue to shift my work. It feels like an affirmation of my desire to do more teaching and less individual work with clients. It also speaks to me of the need to give people tools so they have the ability to "climb out" on their own.
Snakes are a power totem for me and speak to me of transformation and the feminine. Much of my work at the time was with women. Most of my clients and most of my apprentices were women. I worked in several women’s circles and was very involved in the Women of Wisdom Foundation. Empowering people has always been a strong aspect of my work. Witnessing the transformation my clients and students went through was very satisfying. the dream seemed to be telling me I was generally on the right track.
The dream suggested that something more awaited me, but that seemed far away.
Feeling that I understood the dream, I let it go and continued with my life and work. It affirmed I was on the right track. Only now do I understand the dream was much more precognitive than affirming.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Intentions
As a Healer I am called at times to deeply share my journey. It is a way of giving death, of peeling away my carefully constructed life so I can dive deeper and rebirth both myself and my work. So many people see me as a person "who knows". I do carry with joy a certain wisdom and ancient knowing. AND, like everyone else, I experience periods of becoming undone, unraveled, and uncertain about my certainty.
Becoming undone usually heralds a time of initiation – and that is the crossroad where I now stand. I have been waiting so long for this next phase of my life. Lifetimes of waiting have made me reluctant to believe my time truly lies in front of me. I fear that as I take the next step, the whole thing may shatter or move out of reach once again. It’s so close I can almost touch it and I teeter on the precipice of right timing. It’s a delicate process.
Am I hesitating, or am I tuned into a sense of the right timing, which hasn’t quite arrived?
Can I really believe the stories that ancestors/Spirit have brought to me?
Will I be accepted by the world? Is the work I bring acceptable to Spirit?
Am I truly seeking allies to support my journey, or am I distracting myself to avoid stepping into this new level of truth and power?
How do I carry these questions with a sense of wonder rather than allowing them to haunt me?
My dream teacher, Valerie Wolf, told me that to truly understand a dream, you must see its beauty. I think this is true about almost everything in life. This initiation process I’m in has taken me to the dark shadowy valleys as well as the clear illuminated mountaintops in this my soul’s journey. And now, I am called to look at the weaving of light and dark and all the colors and textures within it. I am to find and celebrate its beauty. And Spirit tells me that I must share this initiation process with you in order to fully embody its lessons and perceive their beauty.
Writing and singing help me flow through difficult processes. And this initiation has held many difficulties: challenging the way I think about myself, throwing me into deep emotional wells, changing the way I physically carry myself in the world, and more. The craft of writing helps me find clarity. Reading my own story helps me view it outside myself and gives me perspective.
In the writing, I become a sacred witness of my own journey. In publishing these writings I am required to trust you, the reader, to join me as sacred witness. It’s a vulnerable place, this trusting. How will you judge me? How will your expectations of me change? How will my story inform your story?
One thing I am still certain of is that we are all in the same story. My story affects and is affected by your story.
And so, together we journey forth – let us do so with wonder, hope and the intention of celebrating beauty.
Becoming undone usually heralds a time of initiation – and that is the crossroad where I now stand. I have been waiting so long for this next phase of my life. Lifetimes of waiting have made me reluctant to believe my time truly lies in front of me. I fear that as I take the next step, the whole thing may shatter or move out of reach once again. It’s so close I can almost touch it and I teeter on the precipice of right timing. It’s a delicate process.
Am I hesitating, or am I tuned into a sense of the right timing, which hasn’t quite arrived?
Can I really believe the stories that ancestors/Spirit have brought to me?
Will I be accepted by the world? Is the work I bring acceptable to Spirit?
Am I truly seeking allies to support my journey, or am I distracting myself to avoid stepping into this new level of truth and power?
How do I carry these questions with a sense of wonder rather than allowing them to haunt me?
My dream teacher, Valerie Wolf, told me that to truly understand a dream, you must see its beauty. I think this is true about almost everything in life. This initiation process I’m in has taken me to the dark shadowy valleys as well as the clear illuminated mountaintops in this my soul’s journey. And now, I am called to look at the weaving of light and dark and all the colors and textures within it. I am to find and celebrate its beauty. And Spirit tells me that I must share this initiation process with you in order to fully embody its lessons and perceive their beauty.
Writing and singing help me flow through difficult processes. And this initiation has held many difficulties: challenging the way I think about myself, throwing me into deep emotional wells, changing the way I physically carry myself in the world, and more. The craft of writing helps me find clarity. Reading my own story helps me view it outside myself and gives me perspective.
In the writing, I become a sacred witness of my own journey. In publishing these writings I am required to trust you, the reader, to join me as sacred witness. It’s a vulnerable place, this trusting. How will you judge me? How will your expectations of me change? How will my story inform your story?
One thing I am still certain of is that we are all in the same story. My story affects and is affected by your story.
And so, together we journey forth – let us do so with wonder, hope and the intention of celebrating beauty.
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