A STUDY AND MEDITATION ON THE ANIMAL AND PLANT WISDOM OF THE GAIAN TAROT JUSTICE CARD – SPOTTED OWL

I’ve been working on a study of the Animal and Plant Wisdom from the 12  endangered species shown in Joanna Powell Colbert’s  Gaian Tarot Justice Card.  Eventually I plan to pull these together into a comprehensive tarot spread concerning living justly, in the mean time I have been pondering and reflecting on each plant and animal and searching for the wisdom questions they might hold for me and others.

I’m starting here with Spotted Owl.  Read, ponder, reflect, enjoy.

Photo from http://www.oregonwild.org

A STUDY AND MEDITATION ON THE ANIMAL AND PLANT WISDOM OF THE GAIAN TAROT JUSTICE CARD – SPOTTED OWL

I’ve  had some incredible experiences with owls, including the Spotted Owl.  This bird is rarely seen and few have had the fortune to come across it or even hear it.  As a kid and young adult I spent a great deal of time in the old growth forests of Oregon, where these birds live.  Though I don’t recall coming face to face with one, as I have with other owls, I do recall with striking clarity the times I have been standing amongst the majestic elders of an old growth forest and heard this owl call.

The spotted owl needs old growth to thrive.  And as most are aware, old growth trees are in high demand, bringing some of the highest dollars per tree in the forestry industry.  And so, we have the conflict that was brought to the forefront of most of the western world not too long ago.  The Spotted Owl became the target species of environmentalist trying to stop the harvest of old growth forests and in turn the Spotted Owl became the target of many an outraged forester who felt his livelihood being threatened.  Whether you side with the forester or the environmentalist, this issue is not as black and white as many would like to have it seem.  And that’s coming from an environmentalist.  An environmentalist with a family history of foresters.

The food on my mother’s table as a kid growing up in a logging town in Oregon was the result of trees being cut down, roads being built and spotted owl and other species habitats being slowly or quickly in some cases stripped away.  I remember, as my inner environmentalist was budding, having conversations with my mother about these very issues.  I learned that, though it would be nice for it to be black and white, these issues never are.  Finding balance and harmony in a world that often struggles with change of any kind is not an easy thing.

The Spotted Owl is not a quickly adaptable species, unlike the Barred Owl who has moved into and beyond the territory of the Spotted Owl.  The Barred Owl, a close relative to the Spotted Owl, seems to have the ability to live and even thrive in a wide range of habitats, including the second growth that grows up after old growth forests are replanted.  They even live and successfully raise young in the small parks and preserves in major cities.  The Spotted Owl however seems to be less versatile and is thus in more danger of extinction due to habitat loss, and where the Barred Owl has moved into these areas as well, they are in competition for resources.  Many people look at the Barred Owl in a poor light due to this, but really, I wonder if that is short-sighted.  Perhaps nature takes a longer view.  As things change on our planet species evolve, cross-breed and change over a long period of time to adjust to those environmental changes.  Only with human action, these changes are happening at a far greater rate than perhaps many of the species can handle.  Will the Spotted Owl have a change to evolve to handle the loss of its prime habitat?  Time will tell.

Personally I believe we have cut more than enough of the old growth forests and that the remaining should be left alone.  We, as a species and as a culture have ways of creating livelihoods and resources that should free us from the idea that these incredible forest habitats should be cut down for any reason.  But humans are slow to adapt as well, especially when it comes to the bottom line, livelihood, and changes in the way we live.  So will these last remaining precious habitats be saved?  Again, time will tell.  I can only hope so.  What is done is done though.  There is no going back.  No magic wand powerful enough to restore what is lost forever.  What counts is what we do now and in the future.

As humans it is easy to judge, rant, philosophize, choose sides, point fingers and so on.  But for the owls, they have to just keep going, doing what they can with what is available and leaving the future to the future.  And there in is the key to what I believe is, in part, the wisdom of Spotted Owl:  Living each day, using what is available to you, and only what you need to thrive.  Keep on keeping on and trust Mother Nature to work out the balance, she’s got eons of experience at such matters, and if we are willing to stop and listen to Her wisdom perhaps we can learn how to find balance in our own lives.

So the questions for Spotted Owl are these:

How can I learn to find balance in my life, where I take no more than I need to thrive, and concern myself with no more than what is before me in each moment, so that I can live more justly for the good of all?

How might I evolve or change to better live in this changing environment?

How can I facilitate deep listening and seeing to hear and see the wisdom of Mother Nature.

What wisdom do I need most to live justly?

You can see more picture of the Spotted Owl and hear its call at http://www.owlpages.com/owls.php?genus=Strix&species=occidentalis

Beltane is for the Faeries!

A simple afternoon of creativity this Beltane Day, and all for the Faeries!  Oh and maybe for the little kids and the kids at heart that walk by too!

Happy Beltane everyone!

She Wiggles Her Fingers and Toes

I’ve been walking daily since Winter Solstice.  Forty-one winter walks so far.  Here in the Pacific Northwest, Seattle especially, it is known for dark wet winter days, yet not even a quarter of those walks have been in the rain.  Each day, be it overcast, partly sunny, fully sunny, drizzling, pouring, or a little of everything, has had its own unique beauty. Especially so near the water as my walks often are, lending the changing moods and colors of the Puget Sound to the beauty of the walks.

These walks have really opened my eyes to many things and as I spend time writing in my journal about them I find myself discovering new ways of seeing and embracing the season that is winter.  Last winter I spent a large portion of the time in a very terrible state of situational depression and I was determined that this year would be different, though many of the situations lending to it are still present in my life… being outside everyday has been at the least distracting and more often healing.  I can not recommend this practice more.

I find my journal writing waxing poetic, especially on the days that are mild enough for me to plop down under a tree or on the beach, taking it all in in detail and writing it all down right there in the moment.

In my writing today I found I was likening this time of year as the time in yoga practice where you are just beginning to wiggle your toes and fingers at the end of a lovely shavasana, the deep relaxing time at the end of any good yoga practice.  The earth in this northern region has been in her own shavasana – not asleep, she never truly sleeps – but resting, gathering her energy to her and now she’s beginning to wiggle her fingers and toes.  The energy begins to rise from the earth and find direction.  It’s in the swelling of the soft furry magnolia blossoms, the several inches of bulbs bursting forth from the earth,and the witch hazel already blooming joined by the alder trees and soon the daphne and Indian Plum.  It’s in all this and more.  The Pacific Wrens are testing out portions of their songs, the nettles are peaking up under the fallen leaves and the water birds are getting frisky.

It’s also happening in the people.  Gardeners are out in their yards, even under grey skies, weeding and cutting back last years growth, they look up and smile from the inside out as I pass by.  The people that get out there, outside, close to the earth show the signs of the season the most. While other still glare out the window at the light drizzle forgetting the beauty of the bright sun from the day before, mumbling how it’s always raining.  I wish I could encourage those latter folk to put on their shoes and coats and wander outside and take time to look for the beauty that is there each day, waiting to lift the spirit and redirect the mind and heart to brighter ways of being.

Do you have a winter practice of being outdoors?  How is the earth wiggling her fingers and toes where you are?

Almost Spring

The lady across the street was throwing bread crusts out for the birds and the gulls and crows wheeled in circles, swooping in, flying high, landing on her roof, then mine all the time calling their distinct calls.  The adult gulls are getting their clean white feathered heads that they get going into breeding season, leaving the feathers of winter behind.  Signs of the passing of winter and the coming of spring.

It’s funny that the lady across the street should choose this day of all days to feed the birds, for I have never seen her do so before. (Well unless you count the fact that her cat’s food, which is kept on her porch gets raided by the starlings from time to time.)  In some traditions and cultures this day is a day to celebrate, and one such way to celebrate this day is to leave an offering of food or milk for animals.  We did this by filling up our bird feeders again for the first time in a long time and to use the idea of milk, once I pick some more up from the store, our kitties will get a special treat.  One of my cats will be especially happy about this, she would worship cows if she knew they were the source of her most favorite treat.

Leaving offerings for the creatures of nature is just one way to celebrate today. Today is Imbolc, the half way point between winter and spring and another thing we will be doing today is burning our old paper snowflakes to usher winter out.  And in the coming days we’ll be walking in our neighborhood and parks and continue looking for signs of spring, which are already beginning to unfold.

Another ancient concept for this day has to do with a burning flame, often connected to the goddess Brigid or later St. Brigid and in the catholic Candlemas, the virgin Mary.  Since I tend to look at things in relation to nature more, for me this is a time where the sun grows even stronger and the light it brings ushers in new life and the creative forces of nature.  I celebrated this yesterday by letting my own inner creative flame inspire a bit of painting.

I call this piece ‘Almost Spring’.  Where the sky is a kaleidescope of blues, the hills are a patchwork of new greens, yet the oak tree, one of the last trees in our area to leaf out, still seems to slumber, waiting patiently for it’s time to unfold new leaves and join in the symphony of new growth and birds singing their spring songs.  A girl in her spring colored dress hugs the quiet oak, urging it to wake and at the same time drawing strength from it to wait patiently for the Equinox and all that it will bring.

Happy Almost Spring, dear readers.

Nightmares, Dirt and Poetry

Woke up before daylight crying so hard I was hyperventilating.  Another nightmare. I held my breath and counted to ten slowly, both to stop the hyperventilation and get myself under control.  I had to keep counting my breath over and over as a wave of the emotions from the nightmare would sweep over me.  Breath.  Observe the emotions, the pain -but don’t react.  Keep breathing.  Finally calm again yet not wanting to go back to sleep.  Exhaustion finally won and I drifted back off curled up close to Mark who had drifted off again as well, his hand still resting on my back where he had gently rubbed as I tried to regain composure.

I dream again.  This time, though, I am lucid.  I know I am dreaming.  I am sitting in a bed, my husband next to me, when I see a large dog standing in the doorway.  I point it out to Mark but he can’t see it.  He still can’t see it as it starts moving towards me, aggressively.  I realize it must not be a real dog and I sweep my hand through the air where it has come at me.  I announce that the dog is in the astral and I get angry.  I jump up, my heart in my throat as I yell a chanting rhyme at the dog and chase it.  It runs before me, but reluctantly.  I keep chanting.  Banishing it with words and actions till I chase it out the front door.  But before it gets off the porch it grows larger.  It reaches down and angrily grabs the last dwindling basil plant out of it’s planter.  Shredding it.  Then morphs into some hideous creature before disappearing.  I still know I am dreaming and I stand there in my dream, pondering.  I feel I know what I need to know and so I start to try and wake up, it’s hard.  Then I’m awake and back in bed next to my husband, but things don’t seem quite right, and it is like I am moving through quicksand.  I realize I am still asleep and I start yelling, “I want to wake up.  I want to wake up.  Over and over. I finally do.  For real this time.  But I take a moment to be sure.  I sit up, absolutely certain I will not allow myself to drift off again.  Enough is enough.

Despite the horrors of the morning, our energy is good.  A little tired but looking forward to the day.  We read about various ways that the holiday of Imbolc  or Candlemas or any of it’s other names over the centuries is celebrated.  We talk about how we might like to celebrate this balancing point between winter and spring.  We have some good ideas, some of which I may share in another post.

We take off to run some errands and end up at a nursery where I fall in love with a Daphne bush and these bright pink primroses with lacy white edges.  Mark wants to make these my early Valentines gift this year and I won’t argue.  I’ve missed the Daphne I had for years that I finally planted in the ground in Olympia and had to leave behind.  I’ve wanted another ever since, and finally, this year, instead of cut flowers I get a whole small shrub of them to bloom over and over each year – at this balancing point between winter and spring, where I am needing a little more spring and a lot less winter.  We gather up our treasures and as we drive through the city the car is filled with the scent of daphne.

Today included a walk through the Arboretum in the rain.  We visited the Rowan trees and the big sister Maples next to the Rowan grove.  We walk through the woods, seeing the Magnolia trees fat with blossom getting ready to burst in the coming months.  The rhododendrons as well and the Indian Plum about to burst.  I can’t help myself – I gently kiss the tip of the nearly open blossoms, grateful for what they tell my winter weary spirit.  We walk past fragrant blooming Witch Hazel with Helebores flowering at their feet.  I hug a cedar tree or two, breathing in the fragrance of their bark.  We visit the Oak Grove where we sat and meditated among the trees last year with a group of Druids.  Each visiting the trees we sat with.  As I stand before my oak tree, cheerfully wishing it a happily approaching spring I clearly get the sense that Trees are not impatient for Spring.  ”Fine then”, I say, “Enjoy the rest of your winter.”  Humbled by this bit of wisdom, yet still, myself, impatient for Spring.  I am not a tree.

We eventually make it home and I wrestle the Daphne out of its plastic pot, placing it into the planter I have for it and nestling the primroses around its feet. I have dirt under my finger nails and in my hair, where I kept trying to push it back out of my face with soil encrusted fingers.  I bury my nose in the Daphne again and grin, ear to ear.  Satisfied I go back inside and to dinner.

After dinner we read poetry to each other.  Three books sitting on the table to choose from.  Mary Oliver, Robert Frost and Shel Silverstein.  We move back and forth between the books.  Moved deeply by Oliver, pondering at Frost and laughing hysterically with Silverstein.  The eclectic nature of the poems being read making the evening that much more unique and fun.  Then I notice my sketch journal sitting on the table as well, so I pick it up and read a few poems from it and then a few entires from the past couple years.  I see the sketch I did of Mark wheeling me through the p-patch under a full moon in a wheel barrow and we laugh at the memory.  We marvel at how much it snowed in 2009 and at the eclectic nature of three Haiku poems I wrote that winter.  The lightheartedness of a couple captured moments and then the blatant truth of the last one on the page.  It capturing the reality of that time for us in so few words.  We’re glad we aren’t in that place anymore.  We’re glad that we can move from nightmares to dirt to poetry all in one day.

Here are the three poems from that page in my sketch journal.

Bagel and cream cheese
Cat pushes closer
My bagel, Thank you!

Open Haiku book
Cat wanting attention
Close Haiku book

The homeless man asks for money
I shake my head
I may be homeless tomorrow

Powerful

Thursday 13 – In Quotes

In which I share 13 quotes that have touched me in some way:

1. “They deem me mad because I will not sell my days for gold; and I deem them mad because they think my days have a price.” ~Khalil Gibran

2. ” There are many that are living far below their possibilities because they are continuously handing over their individualities to others. Do you want to be a power in the world? Then be yourself. Be true to the highest within your soul and then allow yourself to be governed by no customs or conventionalities or arbitrary man made rules that are not founded on principle. “
~Ralph Waldo Trine

3. “Be who you are and say what you feel, because those that mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind” ~Dr. Seuss

4. “I think it’s important to watch how deeply we get into social media and if it prevents human interaction or encourages passivity instead of earnest and true relationships, it’s not doing us any favors.” ~Ecogrrl

5.  ”The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever”
~ Jacques Cousteau

6.  ”With freedom, books, flowers and the moon, who could not be happy?”
~Oscar Wilde

7. “At times we look like moving trees, reaching arms from our trunks to the moon and stars, gathering nourishment from the ground under our feet, our energetic roots.” ~ J. Ruth Gendler

8. ” I can think of the various ways I have thought of the Invisible world, some quite contradictory to others and how each time seemed to manifest itself as I thought of it to some degree.” ~Marion Weinstein

9. “Words are symbols.  They represent ideas, which are Invisible .”
~Marion Weinstein

10. “If there was one unifying belief among them, it was to question all the assumptions in our consumer culture that have us convinced that a family cannot survive without a dual income.” ~Shannon Hayes

11. “I am the weather.” ~ Mama-Om

12. “Drop by drop is the water pot filled.  A little at a time, wise people make themselves good.” ~Buddha

13.  ”I love you.” ~Mark Kirschner

Wilderness for the Soul

This past weekend we had originally planned on taking ourselves up to the mountains and having a snowshoe outing and finding someplace to pitch our tent.  But when the weather reports started to say that rain was in the forecast for the mountains, rather than snow, we decided to cancel our plans and save it for another time with better weather.  We think we may have made a bad decision.

The whole three day weekend we were restless and yearning for the wilderness.  So badly that when we took off for a day that was supposed to include a trip to the art museum we changed our minds in route and headed east, thinking we might go for a drive in the countryside, maybe find a short trail to wander despite the very cold windy rainy weather.  We wandered for a while but still we weren’t satisfied.  We decided to go a little further up the mountains and see if we could find a more remote back road with more trees and less people.  Which we finally did, traversing some snow patches on the gravel road till we found a spot to pull over and wander around a bit.

As I was driving up the road and I entered a section where various lush evergreens created a canopy  over the road way I had a sudden and strong wave of emotion go through me.  It was so strong that tears stung at the back of my eyes and I found myself heaving out a deep sigh.  I took a deep breath as I realized that whatever had been driving me towards the mountains and away from the city was a far deeper seated need than I had thought.  We wandered about for a little while and then eventually just gave in and headed up to the pass and the ski areas where we found a spot to play in the snow and stomp through the woods a little.  The more I was there the more my body relaxed, despite the cold, which was now cold enough to have a steady snow coming down.  I laughed and chased snowflakes with my tongue.  I stomped about in the snow in my running shoes, not caring that my feet were getting wet.  I stopped and hugged a fir tree with all my might.  And I resolved to give into the urge to get to the mountains and forests and wilderness as much as possible, no matter what the weather reports.  My spirit was in need for some deep green nourishment that can only come from time in the wilderness and from the look on my husband’s face as we played about in the snow, I believe his was as well.

We used to be able to feed that need more often and so we kept a healthy balance of city and wilderness life, but over time and finance troubles and having no one to cat-sit for us that we could actually afford, the wilderness time kept getting farther and farther from our reach.  It was leaving a noticible effect on our psyches and our spirits.

So even if it is just for a few hours or a quick overnight where the cats will be fine on their own, we agreed to try and make time in the wilderness a priority, no matter the other sacrifices that may need to be made to make it happen.  We feel the need for it like we feel the need for air and food and water and shelter.  And who are we to deny ourselves such an important aspect of life.

Confidence

The other day I was heading to the gym to spend some much needed time in the pool and sauna.  But before I left I paused.  I was feeling uncomfortable in my own skin suddenly and was dreading going.  It royally pissed me off.  I found I was asking myself where the confident, be yourself, don’t care what others think girl had gone?  I wondered why I could go to a yoga studio, settle in on my mat and find my confidence again but when I go to the gym, it suddenly disappears.

One of the reasons I love yoga is that it has taught me to be self-accepting and non-judgmental towards myself.  Something that can be very difficult due to a body that fights me all the time.  Having several auto-immune conditions and health issues that I struggle with on a daily bases has made feeling like finding a place and time that I will thrive in is impossible.  But when I settle in on my mat I feel hope.  And acceptance.  Both my energy and my muscles are effected  by my health conditions.  Some days I can be energetic and with minimal pain, the next I can hardly move.  Learning to accept where I am today and what my body can do today is something that yoga has gifted to me.

I went ahead and went to the gym and toughed my way through it.  I even enjoyed my time in the pool and sauna.  But I found myself once again wondering where that confident woman had gone? The one that when she was in her early twenties decided she hated shaving and wondered why the hell she kept on doing it.  And when she realized it was because of some societal standard of feminine beauty, she just stopped.

It was a time of accessing things and a time that it was easier to toss out the crap that society lays on us, especially as women, and just go forth and be who I am, as I chose to be.  Oh it wasn’t always easy.  I had to deal with the attitude of my employer and co-workers.  I was called a hippy – like it was a bad thing.  I was called a dike in a most derogatory way, and I mean how ridiculous is that anyway?  I had a friend who was a lesbian and she was as girly as the next.  Pure stupidity is what I dealt with.  Oh and people’s discomfort.  I found a lot of woman either judged immediately while others got really defensive because my confidence to let go of societies concept of what a woman should look like challenged their own conformity – though it wasn’t my intention to do so.  I did like to offer the opportunity to think about the reasons we do things though – I think this was the beginning of my own path towards mindfulness.  Being willing to examine why we do certain things and if we find the reasons are not good enough  being able to let those things go.  It is a slow and sometimes painful path.  And sometimes you find yourself winding back around and touching on the same subjects again.  Like what happened to me recently.

I didn’t shave my legs or armpits for over ten years.  Then one afternoon, summer before last I found myself in the shower and looking at my husband’s razor.  I was in a good place.  Comfortable with who I was, but curious if I would like a shaven leg look after all these years.  I wasn’t the least interested in shaving my pits, mind you.  I liked that and over time have found that it can make feel sexy in its own way.  I was hesitant.  I remembered how I really did hate the maintenance of having shaven legs – I mean all that shaving, which I had hated with a passion.  Was I willing to try it out for the sake of curiosity and be stuck with maintaining it or going through the process of growing it out again,which is not the best stage.  Eventually I put the razor to my legs and peeled away over ten years of who I had been.  I looked down at my legs and thought, “Hm.  That looks really weird.”  In fact it took me a few weeks to get used to it again.  I liked the feel of the  smoothness, but it disappeared so quickly.  I went through the summer and then when winter came and I grew it back out again.  And that was the pattern for this year as well.  But this year I found I was feeling uncomfortable in public with unshaven legs, especially in places like the gym where judgement of bodies, your own and others reigns supreme.  And there I was, pissed off at letting society and others ideas of beauty and what is accepted for women effect me.  Damn it, I was above all that crap.  I had worked at that for over ten years of my life as my lithe body slipped away from me due to illness.  I had to ask myself, if you can’t handle the pressure, then why don’t you just give in and start shaving again full time?

The next day found me at a yoga class I had not gone to before.  A new teacher.  As I was settling onto my mat before class the teacher came into sight for the first time.  She was a strong beautiful woman who radiated confidence.  So when she raised her arms in the first few movements of class and I saw her unshaven arm pits the whole thing came home to me again.  I had been like that.  I wanted to find that place in me again.  For my beauty to radiate out beyond societies ideas of what beauty is.  To feel comfortable and confident no matter what I look like on the outside, whether I shave or don’t shave or have a slender body or a lumpy one.  That I could find that place of self-acceptance and confidence and non-judgement off the mat as much as on,  in places far less accepting of women who don’t follow the code of beauty set up by whoever determines these things, in places like the gym or the dance floor or anywhere else  I might choose to go. So I moved through my practice that day with the intention to breath in confidence and breath out negativity.  To glory in the strength my body was offering me that day, to find my inner strength and confidence once more and carry it with me once the mat was rolled up and I was walking out into the world beyond the comfortable place of my yoga practice.

Gratitude

An old man began to plant fruit trees on his land one day.
A young man came by and asked, “What are you doing?”
“Planting fruit trees,” the old man replied.
“But you won’t live to harvest and eat of their fruit,” the young man exclaimed.
But the old man answered, “The fruit that I have eaten and enjoyed in my lifetime has been from trees that were planted by people who lived before me.  So I will show my gratitude of them and the trees they planted by planting these young trees for the people who come after me.”

~Irish Proverb