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ever feel the need to start anew? afresh?

i’m feeling that here, that this blog has served in its time and now it is time for a little change. i’m feeling that in life now, that my current way of being in the world is no longer full-scale serving.

as the last post depicts, sometimes the soul moves beneath ground and on the surface one doesn’t appear as one thinks or has planned oneself. tonight/early tomorrow morning i plan to board a greyhound which will take me to a vipassana retreat, my first one of this type (though i have done silent retreats and meditative weekends in the past). it will be 10 days of silence, meditation, and introspection. in a way it feels as though/i know that i have wanted this my entire life and it is time now.

while i was in bend, oregon on my bike trip, i went to a healing fair one morning with my friend diane. there were many shamans and healers, etc etc there and it was an amazing morning of engaging and sharing with multifaceted energies. first, i ventured to a woman who worked with stones and she said something poignant as she was reading my energy which i am remembering now, “you’ve been living as a monk.” now whether i have fully disclosed this voluntarily simplistic, even at times ascetic (although also very aesthetic in my way), style of living with the world is one thing, but when she said this it was an ‘of course’ for me. yes, i have felt drawn to the contemplative life often (although in recent years i’ve doused this with a healthy balance of dionysian liberty) and most likely would have joined some sort of religio-spiritual community if not for the wildness in my spirit which bucks organized and entrenched philosophies and rigidly structured communities. that being said, in the secret and quiet of my own person, i’ve practiced a hand-crafted monkish spirituality imbued with plentiful introspection, a myriad of religio-spiritual samplings, and directly rooted cosmic nourishment. i’ve sampled the religio-spiritual traditions. i’ve explored different cultures. i’ve broken down barriers within myself on many levels. i’ve become aware of a lot of the patternings imprinted from the acculturation and indoctrination of my formative years. i’ve met countless self-proclaimed healers and equally magical laypeople with whom i’ve shared many beautiful, at times earth-shattering, cosmic, heartening, challenging relationships and connections of healing and growth for which i am eternally thankful.

yet, i find myself at another juncture and, inherent in this, is an opportunity to grow beyond and into mySelf more. to know myself better. in part it reminds me of one of the most monkish periods in my life a few years back, which i refer to as My Great Depression. i spent a lot of time inward during that period, reflecting on my being in relation to the world, discovering what was important to me, gaining momentum from within, as it were, in order to enjoy a challenging growth spurt in the next rotation of the wheel. included in these periods is often a struggle with latency, ambiguity, uncertainty, self-doubt, inwardness, aloneness, a general pathos of stuckness. having experienced this before, and even gone so far in the past as to question whether suicide is a viable option, i find myself better equipped to be in relation to this inward and decidedly “winter” of my being. this time, understanding the nature of my cycles, it has beckoned the question of whether, as a mirroring reflector of the earth and her rhythms, i am simply in a dormant period, as life in many places around the world is during this season. intuitively, i feel this as true.

this is all to say that i feel very beneath the surface, chthonic, seedlike in this season’s waiting. my dreams are vivid and inspiring. the other night i dreamt of a person in my life i love and feel deeply yet, for whatever reason on the surface don’t talk to or spend much time with in time and space. in the dream she had just arrived and we were sitting next to each other on a bench talking to a new friend of mine who was going to go under for surgery, specifically ACL reconstruction, a surgery i have in fact had. we were questioning whether i would have the surgery too and i said that i wasn’t emotionally prepared for it, that i had thought the surgery was coming in a few days and this is what i was readying myself for. in the midst of this discussion, i let my hand drop to my side where the hand of the girls rested and i let my hand sit atop hers and then slowly held her hand in mine. she didn’t pull away, but held my hand too and we sat there holding hands. of course i was in heaven and i awoke to the daylight and birds singing outside of my squat with the feeling of holding her hand. in reality, my hand was on my stomach, yet the energy i felt in the dream was literally coursing through my hand. it was as if she was with me, as if we were present together.

this dream holds special importance for me because during My Great Depression, this person magically came to me where i was in obscurity and provided the spark necessary for my moving on. this is still what she represents to me and i am thankful for her being and meaning to me.

all of this to say, i am not sure where i am headed. there are a few opportunities on the table for the year, yet, at this point, none of them are calling to me with such intensity that i am certain in my choice. follow the heart, i hear, follow the heart. and yet, my heart is here with me now; we are here together and i’m not sure that following my heart means doing anything different from what i am doing right now.

i may create a new blog. lay this one to rest. i bought the domain name wrenhaffner.com so the new blog may be there, if i can find some hosting service that fits my needs/desires. i’m deeply excited for this opportunity to try the vipassana retreat. on the eve of my departure, this is me letting go. this is me allowing myself. this is me saying i don’t have the answers and i’m open for universal direction in alignment with my deepest wishes and desires here. this is me surrendered and asking to know myself more.

until next time, ciao~

wren!

the blue wall chunk i really liked

the blue wall chunk i really liked

the last couple days have been quite fun. the day before today i went with stan and the crew to move art around a big warehouse. we pushed and pulled big sculptures around on wheels and with machines and put some 2 year old clay tablets into the kiln to be fired. it was nice to be around special art all day. and Today i started making a bedside table, which is featured below doing a headstand. it is currently in upright position, yet has some more work to be done on it before it can hold objects, like library books and mason jars sporting their fill of water, or perhaps even other found objects recalling specific moments of time and space…

table doing headstand

table doing headstand

the table head is from an oak tree that was felled on the property a while back. the legs go through the table and each leg is painted as it desired. i’m really tickled by it and excited to get it in the bed-womb (as iesha affectionately dubbed it tonight as we sat within its warm walls and drew and smoked and i banged on the drum and we played poetry with our chords, reading some hafiz and mcclure (an unknown and really eternal writer from the beat generation, loving a compilation called of indigo and saffron ((two of my favorite colors))).

i am full of thanks and presently brought here in gratitude.

i am breaking further

i can’t speak for anyone else

yet this morning and last night, last night i sat in a heap of pain. i didn’t drink wine to distance myself from it, i didn’t endulge in my myriad of distractions. i layed in the womb and felt it. i said to myself, it will be better in the morning.

and it was, the pain was less, yet as i went to meditate and felt my hard stomach holding the breath, my whole body feeling like laying down and sobbing like a little child, i tried to breathe into this pain, to sit with it.

i layed down at one point, and breathed exaggeratedly, i let tears come, but they wouldn’t come, not all the way. i sat back up and continued breathing, i continued sitting.

someone was mowing a lawn nearby and it made me want to cry. there was a loud industrial vacuum in the house next door (which is still going on…), there is noise everywhere and i fucking hate it! the highway noise, planes bustling overhead, cars whizzing by! i hate it! my organism can’t stand it. this is the feeling of overwhelm which makes me want to lie down and weep and surrender.

 

so that is what i did, as the pain of The Ways Things Are Now became so great and the meditation finished I said to my friend sitting next to me, I feel like a little kid, I feel like rolling up in a ball and crying, I feel so much pain.

 

And he asked what kind of pain it was, Is it anxiety, is it the pain of this or that..etc etc… and i said, no

 

It is the pain of The Way Things Are, it is the pain i feel that the world is the way it is – when did it become okay to not have clean air or water, when did we forget? when is all this noise okay? is it ever silent? I don’t know if this is my unfinished pain or the my pain at the world, yet I can’t handle it any more!

 

Your pain in relation to the world, he reflected

 

Yes, I replied and broke

I broke down and sobbed uncontrollably, I cried like a baby, wailing, and even embarrassed at my wailing, yet knowing deep enough that i need this grieving, to allow myself to do it as much as i can. to free myself to feel  this pain and have an honest response. weeping, all of my pain flashed before my eyes. the extreme violence of our culture and the forcing i’ve put on myself to be about partaking in it.

 

the thing is, i want to be involved, want to be connected, i want to be apart and this is what i was hearing toward the end of this speech yesterday- that the workers on the oil rigs aren’t evil and completely destructive people, they want to be a part of an exciting, groundbreaking, connected project that they feel and think serves their ideology, the ideology of our infinite growth culture, what serves “progress”.

yet the truth is that these things do not serve health and wellness, true growth toward beauty, love, connection. they are destroying life on a massive scale, as was said in the talk yesterday “not only for all of future generations, but for right now as well.” the workers on the rigs, etc have knowledge of this, at least in part. for we all do, as every organism has the ability to feel as it is energetically attuned to our deeper knowing, totally integrated and in-formed as a part of our larger planet, our Earth.

this pain overtook me today, I released myself to it. and the most wonderful part is that, apart from feeling powerless after such a breaking through, i feel more powerful, gentler, clearer, more resolved in knowing what it is i have to do, what is my deep calling to do. this is my path here, this is why i am here. to feel, to respond, to call, to deeply love and care and live my truth.

What a wonderful day today. I am very thankful.

Had the opportunity to go to Cal Earth‘s open house today with some friends, old and new. An hour and a half from LA, one can find Hesperia, CA. I went with the intent of seeing, feeling, experiencing, gaining some understanding on the structures and spirit behind the place. I had a feeling some interesting connections would spark up, and boyoboy did they!

twas an overcast day at cal earth, yet these jewels stand out

twas an overcast day at cal earth, yet these jewels stand out

First, the spirit of the place is quite contagious and I resonate with it on a grand scale. After wandering around weaving through the buildings, at 11 am we gathered around for Welcome, Introduction, Stories, etc. The daughter of the since-passed Architect of the place spoke for a while. We all sat around in a semi-circle shape on some of their structures, next to the first structure built there, the Rumi building (yes, inspired by rumi the poet), a brick circular building.

this building is their example of how beautiful and even fitting into the mainstream their work can be.

this building is their example of how beautiful, shapely and integrated the cal earth designs can be  (inside this house looks very conventional, i bet to show that it doesn’t have to be so “out there” and therefore inaccessible to the majority.

I loved the format of the Introduction and Story Telling. We got to hear stories of Khalili’s life, which were very inspiring to me. Stories of being on the brink of failure and pushing through, stories of the miracles of life, of trying and seeking out things never before experienced by humans. Of passion, a drive to empower All people, to make building homes affordable and accessible for All people! And when they say All people, it is real; they said that when they place the earth bags and fill their contents, they fill it a coffee can at a time! so anyone can do it- one doesn’t need to be exorbitantly strong, a construction-worker male, or even necessarily agile to build these houses. this is very encouraging for the world… and Khalili’s spirit, which continues on in the place, sought out this egalitarian accessibility.

here is an example of some of the bags that didn't get plastered over. these bags provide the structure and fill of the buildings and are held together with barbed wire. one line i especially liked today: the architect wanted to use the materials of war to create these homes.

here is an example of some of the bags that didn’t get plastered over. these bags provide the structure and fill of the buildings and are held together with barbed wire. one line i especially liked today: the architect wanted to use the materials of war to create these homes.

at lunch, i shared a few really neat encounters. this book the ringing cedars of russia by anastasia has been coming to me lately. i heard about it a couple of years ago and felt as though i really resonated with the book and wanted to read it at some point. a girl i met in an earlier recent adventure brought it up, today i saw it sitting in one of the cal earth sleep wombs, and then at lunch i met a couple living in idaho who are living at Vedrica Forest Gardens, an intentional community semi-founded on the guiding light of this book. looking at the couple, they appeared very familiar. sometimes i meet people who it seems look like me in various ways, not necessarily in a flesh and bones resemblance, but something in the eyes, perhaps a spiritual or soulular familiarity. we got to talking, and it was so refreshing to talk with them, to feel their spirits and the exciting and harrowing aspects of their endeavor. i may go visit their community over time.

later i met another woman who i felt connected to in a very deep way. she’s living in santa barbara now, in her 50s, has a very cool story – at one point she went to maui, lived next to a river and waterfalls, built her own house out of cedar. talking with her was such an amazing mirror i kept wanting to laugh and hug her and dance and giggle with my head back, grinning ear to ear. it was so refreshing to hear her speak, to see the joy and love twinkling in her eyes and to feel it radiating from her being and to feel my own being relaxing and excitedly delving into the unfolding conversation. we were both excited to connect with each other, and shared the joys and difficulties of living as very sensitive beings within frameworks that are not always supportive, especially within city contexts. it’s such a blessing to make connections like this, which serve to remind me, rejuvenate me, cause a deep soul grin and inspire and spark me forward.

beautifully colored dome in the light.

beautifully colored dome in the light.

the whole visit today at cal earth was encouraging, enlightening, inspiring, informing and beautiful. if you’re in the area,  i would recommend a visit to their monthly open house.

now, i understand that i am deeply entrenched in the “food movement”, make that “local …. hyperlocal, non-chemical, low-fossil fuel expenditure food movement” …

and most of my readers know this and are, to varying degrees, creatively aligned. yet, how can we hit this one home? this Necessity to grow our own food locally and create landscapes which support and encourage diversity and the abundance of life? how can we seep toward massive culture shift?

one key to unlocking this continuing shift is through the Power of Awareness, of bringing longstanding and embedded subconscious impulses and patterns to light.

i love the spirit behind this, and i would also add: plant native plant gardens, wildlife habitats, create spaces which you find beautiful and life-enhancing, food forests, oasis, desert-scapes, etc etc etc!

i love the spirit behind this, and i would also add: grow native plant gardens, wildlife habitats, create spaces which you find beautiful and life-enhancing, plant food forests, oasis, desert-scapes, etc etc etc!

this morning i walked to a nearby garden and did some stretching, said hello to the california poppies sans poppies as of yet, felt the hot sun on my neck and top of my head. i gave thanks as i sat at the feet of the seed-laden leafless sweet gum (how glorious is this tiered sight?!). i walked home after a while and on my way caught sniff of something horrible. the smell alone made me shoot the air out of my nose and hold my breath as my organism revolted against it.

yesterday i was in the hardware store, the one in town that my co-worker told me is like crack in that whatever tools you buy there will only give one a cheap quick-fix and then break down. all week long he’s been telling me of the side effects of working in construction – the wood inoculated with chemicals so that it can touch the ground and not rot and be eaten by bugs (yet when one cuts it and breathes in just a few whiffs from one cut it is equivalent to sucking in about 2 cigarettes), the sealant and fiberglass toxicity from working on boats and other manufactured products, the way certain materials and varnishes actually eat the skin and internal organs, the cheap lunch food that can be tasty and is nearby yet, if eaten over time, will leave one simply feeling greasy and fat and slowly growing into this. it’s depressing, these factors, that go into our current manufactured goods economy. walking into the hardware store yesterday it smelled like someone had opened a can of toxic fumes into the room and no one had thought to open a window. all these people milling about, buying and selling in a toxic environment. this is yet another facet of this branching matter …

well, my neighbors had cut their lawn this morning (or some hired hand did) and when i walked by it smelled like the hardware store. as i said, i shot out the gases as quickly as i could from my body and held my breath until i got to some safe air, yet at the time i thought, Perhaps that smell is coming from something in the trashcan. however, i looked back and only organic matter was hanging out of the trashcan. i looked at the lawn and saw the immaculate rectangular patterns from the lawnmower and freshly chopped grass laying along the lines and connected the smell with the smell of lawn chemicals.

oh good glory heavens, oh glory be! does this make any sense at all?

a landscape dependent upon the use of unhealthy chemicals to keep it afloat. a landscape, if left to its own devices, will draw in weeds and shift faster than the shocks of a grey-hair who missed the weekly salon appointment.

something here is grossly misaligned. 

ok, okay… it can make sense. in my final class of college, a formal writing class, i wrote a 15-page persuasive proposal on the subject of lawns. in it, i delved into the history of the lawn, why it is a popular mainstay today, its health repercussions, and alternative solutions. the keys that i wish to point out now, which popped into my mind this morning, are the psychological factors behind the existence of the lawn. essentially, the lawn comes from europe and is birthed from the “against wilderness” movement that swept through around the time of the Enlightenment leading into modernity and industrialization. as europe (and we see this pattern in the christian church as well) was seeking to be rid of the wild, uncontrollable aspects of human/nature and so create what they saw as an orderly, clean, safer and more beautiful alternative, large sections of wild areas were “tamed” and made into beautiful gardens, which included large masses of short grass. it was a sign of wealth and moral superiority to have short, manicured grass, whereas the forests, farmlands, and edges where the twain did meet were considered unruly and in need of control and more human touch.

obviously, these standards and internal prejudices migrated over with a large portion of our ancestry and so have planted themselves within our lawnscapes as well. though this time it is on a larger scale — no longer is it just the elite who can have the perfectly manicured lawn, something which, without the use of fertilizers and chemicals, would take many hands to prune and weed, trim and keep looking absolutely perfect and green and fashionable. with the help of fertilizers and chemicals and lawn care equipment (and through our dependence on cheap fossil fuels to run much of this equipment), all strata of society, from those with little means to stealthily wealthy castle owners, can maintain these ideal landscapes.

does any of this make sense biologically, organismically speaking from a center of health and wellness and looking out for the good of all?

NOT AN IOTA!

yet, these subconscious and embedded historical patterns are taking quite a bit of Energy & Awareness to shift. in the paper, i also shared research i found relating to current suppositions concerning the presence of lawns in relation to gardens, native wildlife habitats, native landscaping alternatives, etc. the qualitative findings were surprising at first, if not understandable, and i think herein lies a key to greater transformation and culture shifting. the grass lawn makers, who, in many cases, control a large portions of neighborhood landscapes, saw their alternative neighbors’ landscapes as personal affronts and downright sins against the unspoken standards of the neighborhood. they used words like Unclean, Bad, Wrong, Unruly, Disrespectful, Shameful, Disgraceful, Letting themselves go. all of which, as i mentioned earlier in relation to the similarity between landscapes and religious doctrine, ties directly into this cultural ideal of moral purity: order is good, chaos is bad. kept and manicured landscapes are good whereas seemingly wild (although most likely tended to varying degrees) landscapes are dangerous and threatening and therefore morally wrong. in short, when things are outside of the norm and uncontrolled by us, they can seem threatening. as humans oftentimes hold primal and subconscious fears of the dark, forests and wild animals and humans found therein, stepping outside of the accepted landscaping box (and the mainstream in general) can be scary, especially when one lives and breathes in an amalgam of acceptance-gets-you-somewhere via the dominant paradigm.

i understand, i get it! so what i’m pointing to now is this Key of Awareness and understanding on the part of those who see the glaring nonsensical and harmful (or, in the least, not life-affirming) nature of the lawn and its wide circle of necessities. it is becoming more and more fashionable to transition this lawn-space into food gardens or beautiful spaces with grass and mixtures of flowers, native plants, rocks, native landscaping (all sans toxins), and this is a great thing. as ones who see, we have the opportunity to speak for these landscapes and to take action aligned with our vision (continually refueled and reminded through our other senses).

it also comes to my attention that many people are running into legislative and code issues when seeking to transition their personally owned landscapes. this points to our need to Shift These Laws. i remember when doing research for my paper, i explored the covenants within my parents’ neighborhood in the suburbs outside of indianapolis, indiana. i was shocked to find all of the rules inhibiting certain landscapes and regulating the presence of others. sale of vegetables grown within one’s personal lawn (even when sold at another venue) was explicitly not allowed. for someone in my shoes, who would like to transition any landscape i am around and share/barter/sell the produce, this is a huge inhibitory factor. obviously, it is time to band together and collectively and with gusto and craft (gentle as doves and wise as serpents) face these outdated and controlling laws and come up with creative alternatives.

in short, our world’s health (micro to macroscopic levels) demands it and the potential of vitality and greater life wiggles with excitement at the possibility.

and so, i further realize upon typing this, this voicing is my present-moment landscape responsibility. thanks for listening.

keep attuned for Part 2 coming soon: my landscape responsibility Part 2, joyful alternatives

wrenbird

wrenfeet1

porch juggle

solar

wrenperch

for lesley 

huntington garden's japanese gardens

huntington garden’s japanese gardens

From a poem by Gabriela Mistral entitled Song,

“night grows maternal before this song that goes to meet it; the stars, with a sweetness that is human, are beginning to come out; the sky full of stars becomes human and understands the sorrows of this world.”

On new years eve in San Clemente, Diane had gone to bed and I felt a pulling to the ocean. I slipped out of the room alone, walked a hundred paces (our room was very close to the shore), and met with the pounding surf. It was nearly time for celebrations and I stood there feeling honored, humble and at one. People heading out on the pier caught my eye and I decided to walk to its end and spend my new years with a strange gathering at the end of the pier.

The moon had already struck me, as it was surrounded by a wide circle of yellow light. The near full moon surrounded and circled. So special. Waves pounding constantly, I walked past the shoreline to the end of the pier. A few conglomerates of people at the end of the pier. I settled into the corner past some asian families.

The waters and sky were dark. At first I could see nothing, only hear the waters churning beneath. The ocean brings out this feeling in me, that I am very small and young, that I am fragile and know very little. Looking back at the moon, she is still circled and huge. The moon is huge and present. We intuit each other.

I had heard earlier that whatever one is doing as the new year comes in acts as a signature for the year. I remembered this and became aware that I was relatively alone, practically in the dark ocean staring with the moon. Ah, I felt as I looked into the deep, and imagined over the dark expanse a flaming tongue coursing over the waters spelling, CREATE.

The waters were more discernible now as midnight came and my human relations on the peer celebrated, popped bottles, kissed and hugged and cajoled one another into greater union. Fireworks erupted on the main land. The moon remained and I stood there, leaning against the rail, contented and full with the message I’d gleaned over the waters.

The smell of firework smoke wafts out across the waters. The sound of churning hits the dock. A couple Cheers one another. People walk the planks and return to shore. The ocean breeze on my face. A glowing moon and burning letters upon the dark. An inner spark.

Walking back, the moonlight cascaded upon the waters, so beautiful. Twinkling and shimmering, so bright. An emphasis on the moon, gazing over dark waters, we create and are created anew.

i wrote the above to lesley earlier as i sat amid the zen garden at the huntington library. i have been beset with a cold/flu to slow me down and i shot a few full nostrils into the surrounding plants. a museum attendant brought me some papers to snot into (although i do prefer snotting forthright on the land). and more remembrance came forth in this time of new moon building, fed by some lines by Gabriela Mistral…

“What the soul does for the body, the poet does for her people.”

i had nearly forgotten my dream seed almost 4 years back at The Mountain in North Carolina. my first community experience, my first taste of the delicate unfolding with support. my dream seed then: Dedicate a year to art, a year to creating, learning art and music making. I had spaced this until now… not consciously a-voiding it, yet given it space, even unintentionally, nonchalantly. and Now it is coming back around. this, the new moon’s intent, perhaps the underlying intent of the year…

photo (2)

written near white sage in the angeles national forest on 1.11.13

In the woods today and continually along the coast on my bike trip, it was just me and the earth; ocean, river, trees, canyon, mountains, crevices… A strange thought returned to me over and over: This is enough.

It would well up within, that phrase, and I didn’t quite understand it. Of course, I thought. When did I say differently? Yet somehow in those moments I knew that acknowledging that phrase shifted something, and on my hike today I have recollected what. Foremost, I am re-membering, I am writing to help myself hear, remembering myself into action.

canyon stream

A bus ride from where I currently reside just outside of Los Angeles, will take one to the foot of the mountains. A 6 mile hike from there brought me to an awe-inspiring sector of Eaton Canyon. Waterfalls, solitude, hopping wildlife, morning light playing in streams and leaves, air I can suck in without thought of harm to my system and water, once purified, that makes me feel so good inside. I trust this atmosphere.

It purifies, refreshes, enlivens, reminds joy, beauty, peace, knowledge of impermanence, wisdom of cycling seasons. It fills me so deep and creates such a mirror for me that many times on this trip I have found myself in deep gladness giggling! Walking along this morning I was so touched by the beauty of the place as I followed the trail along the river. The way the ecosystem changed as I mused along; sheer canyon walls jutting up from the river, maples’ lost leaves scattered over the trail in front of me- what a smell!, the sound and feel of the water in the air as I walked beside the stream, the light breeze, dappled sunlight, the delicate deliciousness of the currant blossoms dangling just so…. I could go on!

Walking along the phrase came to me again

This is enough

Yes, I agreed in  mutual embrace. Yes, this is so much.

Yet when I think back to riding the bus through the city yesterday, holding my breath as I waited for it on the street. Or drinking water from the tap the day before, feeling the impurities on my tongue causing me to spit it back out in the sink. Knowing how hard the average person must work to simply have a home and necessities within the city. How most everything is intimately tied to the dollar. How we poop in our water…

I am blown away at what we have traded: clean air and water for starters…

What is has cost to sustain livelihood in the city. It’s as if, over time, we said to the abundance, beauty, gift of relationship with the earth:

You have been enough, Yet you are not enough anymore. We are building more enough for ourselves. We are pulled to the city now. To its form of abundance, gadgets, high priced plates of food shipped around the world, all of the excessive material goods … we will hand over our intimacy with you for these as we pollute the streams, erode and poison the soils and filthy the air so we can go wherever we want whenever we will.

I tell you friends, the trade is not worth it for me. Nature’s abundance and I meet and we are the same. We resonate, we dance in that abundance in mutual caretaking and gifting. Nature is so much enough for me. I feel I do not understand cities. I do not love them or promote them and their incessant cry, “More, More!” What type of return to Nature is required? What does the harmony look like? How is the balance forged? In the anvil of experience I will experiment, as many who have come before and will go after have done. Come, let’s co-create in synergistic abundance with the earth! Let us sing, We have enough, We are enough, The earth and our relations are enough!

today’s feature is a poignant poem from Women in Praise of the Sacred edited by Jane Hirshfield

from The Walls Do Not Fall

by H.D. (hilda doolittle, 1886-1961)

In no wise is the pillar-of-fire
that went before

different from the pillar-of-fire
that comes after;

chasm, schism in consciousness, 
must be bridged over;

we are each, householder,
each with a treasure;

now is the time to revalue
our secret hoard …

 

eternity symbol

This is an experiment, I hope the .m4a shows up and you can listen to the song! If not, I’ll do some fiddling tomorrow and link it to soundcloud.com.

Yesterday morning I awoke in the canyon, after a near freezing night, to the sounds of moving water and fresh morning light. A song was evoked!

It’s called White Leafed and Bright
here are it’s lyrics:

white light leafed
fresh canyon stone
those who know
we who’ve known
white canyon stone
in morning light after after
twilight
fresh morning stone
leaves twinkle
sink deeply
drink sweety
fresh mountain light
on leaves and stone
together ne’er alone (2x)
dream deeply my sweetly
beloved
fresh mountain light in
fresh mountain air
stay here
stay near, beloved
health + hope I wish for you
stay true
within beloved
take those steps which serve like
fresh morning light
white leafed and bright
Memo.m4a

 

edit: for those who can’t access the .m4a, here is a link to it on soundcloud.

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