Image by Randy Ratliff, Hiking the Smokies FB group, not the snake I met.
A sharp, electrical buzz sounded, like a switch being flipped, about ten feet in front of my forward-moving boots. It stopped me like a stone wall. The unmistakable buzzzzzzzzz of a timber rattlesnake.
Besides fear, I could feel the power of the rattlesnake. It claimed the trail with unmistakable authority.
Image by Randy Ratliff, from Hiking the Smokies FB group, not the snake I met.
The snake’s rattle repeatedly came to mind each time I practiced chanting and singing this past week. The voice is a way we claim our personal sovereignty with unmistakable authority, just like a rattlesnake uses its ‘voice.’
A week after the encounter with the powerful rattlesnake, I was hiking on another trail and discovered a rattlesnake that had been crushed. I stood over the lifeless body, deeply saddened by the silencing of the beautiful snake’s ‘voice.’ The contrast between the electrifying buzzzzzz and the silence was profound.
A few weeks ago, in my muggle world job, someone mentioned seeing my book, Cosmic Whales: Mystical Stories from the Sea, in a local bookstore. She said she had no idea I was a writer and photographer. Sometimes I forget, too.
When I got home I picked up a copy of the book and began to read it. I remember being in Mexico cave diving when I was doing the final edits to it. I would return from being in the magical realm of the highly decorated underwater caves and would start work on reading the copy again. I read it outside, on the beach, where hundreds of tiny sea turtle tracks criss-crossed the beach from their hatch the night before. It was the perfect place to put the finishing touches on this book….one of my favorite creative journeys.
As I read through the book, I could scarcely believe I wrote the poetic prose that goes so deep into the beauty of the sea and whales, dolphins, manatee, sea lions, sea turtles…all birthed from personal experience with these amazing creatures. This book is a glimpse into the heart of the sea, into my heart.
I’m reminded of the creative mystic that resides within my soul that needs to stir the cauldron and pull out inspiration. My task then is to create space for her to dance words and sentences into being, to journey with her into the forests of these ancient mountains with my photography gear and let images come to life.
In the pale light of dawn, I slipped on my pack and stepped into darkness of the forest. The creek sang sweetly with enhanced volume from recent rain. Little juncos fluttered to life from the grayscale hues of the rocky trail. Sorry to disturb you, I whispered, as I walked past.
Elemental forces seemed to hang in the humid air, awaiting acknowledgement. Water seeped and trickled from crevices and spongy, moss-covered ground. Air was enriched with sweet, forest fragrances. Fire of my muscles ignited my body as I began to climb. Earth anchored me to Her with gravitational hugs. Oneness…everything interwoven. In the dim light, I sang and chanted to pay respect…and let bears know I was passing through their home.
In that gloomy light, the log bridge–spanning the creek and leading to the dark passage underground–reminded me of crossing the River Styx to enter the Underworld where, in Greek mythology, Charon leads souls of the dead. The hike up Mt. Le Conte can certainly feel like a death. Or a series of little deaths as it presents its many challenges to ascending.
Being present with the physical challenges led me to listen to my body on a deep level. My awareness moved back and forth from the beauty all around me to the depths of my body… heart, lungs, muscles, knees, feet…and how to coordinate the physical self as it works to ascend.
Before long, I was under the Alum Cave overhang. Drops of water showered me as they fell from the cliff face. After nearly two miles of uphill hiking, it felt wonderfully refreshing. Only one other person was there in the dust of the ‘cave,’ so the solitude and quiet of this special place was absolute. The magnitude of power held within the formation was easily felt as I sat on a rock and ate a snack. It’s good to feel small sometimes.
After my brief repast, I felt ready to begin the truly challenging part of the ascent. Refueled to replace calories and hydrated to replace the sweat rolling down my body, I begin the hard part of the climb.
With sheer cliff faces, ledges, roots…all slick with recent rain…the only focus was the moment. Not what was happening in the chaotic world or with anyone else, only what was happening in the small space around me as I hiked up…up…up. Perhaps that’s why I love hiking so much, especially challenging hikes—I must be present. Completely. Totally. And how wonderful it is to be so grounded in the Now.
Even though clouds threatened to hide the views, the Cliff Tops offered a gorgeous perspective for life. Clouds drifted by revealing distant views, closer ridges, and a sea of green. I stood on the rocky cliff, taking it all in, breathing with the clouds. Wanting to expand to take the splendor into every cell of my body.
This then is the way of ascension: go into the darkness, cross the void, climb harder than you’ve ever climbed, be open to receive. And…don’t be afraid to go alone. For truly, we are never alone.
In my muggle life, I coordinate a grant for 45 nursing homes. As part of the duties, I order ‘prizes’ for residents participating in the program. The number one requested item is some form of stuffed animals. Residents love to cuddle them, take care of them. It enriches their lives.
This kinda breaks my heart because I know how much dogs mean to me and millions of people. I know elders, in the care of nursing homes, miss their animal companions. A stuffed animal is a small comfort. But it is a comfort.
In an effort to enrich the monthly newsletter we send facility leaders, I was looking at August’s notable month markers: Honey Bee Awareness Day, World Photography Day, National Peace Month, National Dog Month. My supervisor started including fun month celebrations in the last newsletter to our facilities. When I looked and saw National Dog Month for August, I knew we could do something special.
On social media, I put out a request for photos of people’s dog’s faces we could include in a graphic that would go to nursing homes we work with as a way to bring joy and love and comfort to residents and staff. The response was overwhelming.
Photos started showing up in the comments, friends and family texted photos….Project Dog Love was launched for the elders of North Carolina.
At the end of a very busy day of grant work, I started my yoga practice and allowed the energy of asking, receiving, and creating this project to move through me and tears welled up. In a world so full of division and hate, somehow I found myself infused with love and care for animals and elders. I felt the love of every person that sent a photo of their beloved dog with the wish of joy and love for elders missing their companions and longing for connection. I felt the love of the dogs. It helped me see how easy it is to bring people together when the common goal is unconditional love–the essence of what dogs mean to us.
I’m grateful for a project director that allows me to be creative and who adds her creativity to our project. I’m grateful for the family of dog lovers who want to be a part of showing love and appreciation to our elders. And for my own canines who shower me with unconditional love and appreciation…deep gratitude.
I sent an email to all the facility leaders this morning sharing how this came to be and that people from California, Kentucky, Michigan, North Carolina, Colorado, Alabama…and many other states…wanted to send love to the residents by sharing their dog companions. I asked them to share the image and let their residents know that people all over are thinking of them and sharing dog love with them. Within minutes, I received this response: “What a great idea! The residents will love this. Thanks for sending.”
My wish is that we could have a poster printed and sent to each facility. Another wish is to print out a photo of each dog and let that dog be a guardian of love, a mascot, for each facility along with a story of who the dog is and how it came to their human companion. There are lots of rescue stories that are amazing…but the grant doesn’t cover those costs. Perhaps the momentum of this project will keep building and we can find a way to share more dog love.
Thank you dogs for reminding us of a common thread that weaves us together…LOVE.
My feet were wet with dew and covered in dirt. I got out early, before the heat, to pick blueberries. The tufted titmouse fussed at me, but I promised to leave plenty for her family.
As I contorted myself under the graceful, loaded branches, I whispered words of gratitude. Not just for the delicious berries, but for the hour spent among their branches, feet grounded, present with abundance and nutrition and beauty. I am in awe of how the bushes have ripened their berries in stages, providing non-stop giving for weeks now.
After picking berries, I went inside. The kitchen counter held my hands as tears rolled down my face. How can this be our country? How can we be at risk of losing our freedoms….to love who we love, to have public lands for all life to en-joy, to have clean water and air, to have true freedom of religion/spirituality, to receive the money we paid into our government retirement accounts all our lives when we come of age, to make decisions about our own lives and bodies. I felt the weight of all of this and much more and felt a moment of panic. I thought: What if we, as a country, go down the dark road that is being offered?
I pondered the turning point at which we find ourselves as tears flowed. There is nothing to be gained from arguing or standing off against our neighbors who think differently than us. That only strengthens those who wish to divide us, as a means to receive votes, to gain more power, more money. The only way through this insanity is to lay down our weapons of hate, aggression, judgment, and cultivate love in our own hearts. Not forcing anyone else to do so, but traveling so deeply into our own hearts that we root out the very things we see in others and are against yet reside buried within ourselves.
And, of course, vote and support those who align most with our values.
I want to explore my own heart and breathe into it to cleanse it, heal it of the negativity that I erect as a wall to protect against those that I think of as my enemy. It’s not easy when I feel threatened. When I feel fear. It’s what I can do in this moment, to support my personal journey through the collective experiences happening.
We have an opportunity for massive healing in our country by turning our attention to the wounds within that keep us stuck in fear: hate, anger, aggression, judgment. Not from pointing fingers at anyone who disagrees with us, but by journeying into our heart and cultivating love.
A flower growing amidst the blueberry bushes also brings such joy
My choice is to turn the light on my heart, to heal and support myself. It will keep me from staying in panic mode or endlessly spiraling from a feeling of powerlessness. I have the power to heal my heart, to love and work very hard to let nothing and nobody cause me to create or cultivate hate or violence–of words, thoughts, actions.
Nobody can take away my ability or capacity to love.
Amidst the insanity of fighting, finger-pointing, violence in our country, my time with the blueberry bushes continues to be a time of healing, of receiving. A time of cultivating love.
