Winter Solstice
the full moon through
oak limbs shines the silver
light of solstice time
and chilly air, crisp
with winter’s grasp,
makes steam as wonder
escapes my quivering lips.
honor darkness born
from light’s journey
to far lands.
now celebrate the return
of longer days, as
darkness retreats.
oh, the sacred dance
of the wheel as it turns
and moves, ever onward
through its seasonal march
and brings mere mortals closer to
the divine as we journey
through age-old rhythms.
sun, moon, earth
in sacred harmony
among the music
of the spheres.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Several weeks ago Buddy and I were walking and ended up at the trail entrance. I had never walked the trail…didn’t know it was there…after nearly 7 years of living here. I stopped, fearful to move forward. It surprised me, this fear of a woodland path. But I remembered that when I was in Asheville a couple months ago I drove to a familiar trail and began walking. That same fear gripped me and I was surprised then as well. What the heck?
I am a cave diver, a solo traveler. I spend most of my time alone so what’s with the fear? Over the following weeks I tugged on that question, gently though. I allowed it to play in my mind–a loose feather floating on currents of thought.
Many months of deep inner excavation work have uprooted many fears which needed to be illuminated so I could move into the next phase of my life with more freedom. Even knowing that was the issue, I still couldn’t walk down that wooded path. So every day Buddy and I would walk to the path and pause. I would stand there wondering….
On the island of Inis Mor, Ireland, last year a most amazing experience unfolded. It was sunset. I stood on massive, ragged limestone rocks at the edge of the Atlantic Ocean and tearfully said my goodbyes after a solo day of cycling, hiking, singing and connecting deeply with Nature. As I turned to walk back to the ancient chapel ruin and then down the hill to the inn, I felt a massive presence behind me. I paused and then walked onward. The presence followed me.
All the way through the cow pasture, past the chapel, to the gate, down the street….I felt a massive presence behind me. Two days later, on a crowded trans-Atlantic flight, the seats next to me in my row were ’empty’ and I felt the presence enter beside me and settle into the space. I wasn’t sure what to make of it but knew that something significant had happened.
In doing the inner excavation work I have uncovered some deeply rooted operational errors. I read a book by Edith Eger and this passage could have been one I wrote, “I have become my own jailor, telling myself, ‘No matter what you do, you will never be good enough.’ The number one demon I wrestle with is this lie. Invoking the presence…what I now think of as my Higher Self…I have gathered the strength to deal with deep-rooted beliefs such as this.
The prison I built was built of fear…that I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t lovable if I was myself, that I would never succeed, couldn’t be who I was in my truest self. These fears began to overshadow me as I prepared to move forward, as I dug deep to heal on a deeper level.
The commitment to growth is the most challenging and scariest one we can make. I had been in relationships for over 30 years. Finally I took the time, after my divorce, to be by myself. Edith Eger explains the opportunity perfectly, “Divorce empties the room of other distractions, of the habitual targets of my blame and resentment, and forces me to sit alone with my feelings.” And there it is…the past six and a half years of living alone, not being involved in a relationship, have been about me finally facing the emotions…and fears…that shaped my life. It has given me the opportunity to discover not only the fears but also the way forward.
From my journal on the pilgrimage to Inis Mor…. It’s not about changing the world. It’s about opening more to the wisdom found in Nature that reminds me of cycles and seasons and persistence. I met blueberry bushes on the tops of cliffs that have grown horizontal rather than vertical, toward the sky, to avoid being stripped by wind of leaves and fruit. Their stems are deep within the multitudes of cracks in rocks and they barely lift their fruits above the ground. They take their cue from the elements and thus have found a way to thrive in conditions most plants would die from. I’ll take my cues from nature.
Edith Egers also wrote that in the sacred present she can celebrate the choice to dismantle the prison in her mind, brick by brick and can choose to be free. A few days ago Buddy and I walked the wooded path as I envisioned removing brick after brick after brick. No longer resistant to what I’ll find within myself, I discover freedom.
For a pilgrim, the outer landscape becomes a metaphor for the Unknown inner landscape. A pilgrim travels differently, seeking a change of mind and heart, John O’Donohue reminds us. He also said, “When you bring your body out into the landscape, you’re bringing it home where it belongs.”
As I watched him speaking on a favorite DVD, I thought…My life is a pilgrimage. I remembered John saying that in the Celtic Imagination the insight is that the landscape is alive. We’re not walking into simply a location or dead space but rather we are walking in a living Universe and in this way of being, our journey becomes different…it becomes a pilgrimage.
Two years ago a friend of mine and I traveled to northern England for a pilgrimage. We called our journey that from the beginning of our planning. Our intention was set clearly and together Maria and I journeyed on a pilgrimage. We didn’t want to just visit places, we wanted to connect with the landscape–with the ancient stone circles and elemental energies of the land and water.
I located my journal from the trip and read about the first encounter with Castlerigg Stone Circle. After taking a while to connect with the energies of the place, I had a most amazing experience of shamanic journeywork. Or meditation. Or simply connection with the Spirit of the Place.
Throughout the pilgrimage, I wrote of vivid dreams, of being chased by an antlered man through the forest, of connecting deeply with the Feminine energy of Earth. At one point in our travels I drove us to Grasmere and when we parked near Wordsworth’s home, Dove Cottage, I started sobbing. There was such a powerful connection to his work and the place.
Upon returning to the USA I reflected, “Whispers of the Ancient Ones echo within me as I reflect upon the magical pilgrimage experienced with my spiritual sister and friend. Conversations with companions from a weekend retreat, that closed the journey, still weave a web of light around me. Past invasions of Romans and Saxons perhaps instilled into the Collective unconscious of the people there a maturity of spirit, a way of being civil and gentle with each other and with strangers. Every person I met was helpful, generous, supportive, kind and many had wicked and dry humor. The individual journeys and experiences will be told over time but for now, in the afterglow of it all, I feel profound gratitude that I was embraced so fully by a land and people that welcomed me as one of their own. My heart beats in sync with the land there and longs already to return and feel ancient stones vibrate and sing their wisdom and the land embrace me as a daughter. From magnificent caves to snow-covered mountaintops from villages older than the country in which I reside to stone circles dating back to 4500 BC, I traveled the path of a pilgrim–open to hearing and learning the lessons given by magical Britain.”
Life is a pilgrimage to me. Every day gives new opportunity to be outside in nature seeking reflection into my inner landscape…to learn more about how I can connect deeper to nature and all life and find the common threads that join us together.
A recent theme occurring for me is the idea of being a friend to myself. That may sound odd but hear me out.
Even in our mindfulness practices of meditation, yoga, prayer, music we can hurry through, push to achieve a goal or achieve a result. In the most sacred of practices we can abandon ourselves as we hurry up to become more self-aware, balanced, centered. Isn’t that odd?
If I am taking the best care of myself, I can sit in stillness with no goal or desired outcome other than to enjoy my own company. The truest voice of the soul can only be heard when we slow down and listen. I’ve discovered how much I don’t listen to the voice that whispers like the wind. Fine-tuning the ability to be still and quiet is an art, a practice that increases awareness of what we might not be comfortable learning about ourselves.
What would it feel like to be a true friend to yourself? What steps would you take to show unconditional, positive regard for your self? What is your soul longing for you to know?