Category: Eco-Spirituality
Loss & Beauty

Loss & Beauty

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There have been so many images and reports of horrendous destruction. Absolute unbelievable loss of property and life…and more lives will be reported lost as recovery efforts continue. Helene showed us how dangerous hurricanes can be, hundreds of miles from landfall.

It’s been challenging to wrap my brain around this happening within miles from my home. Power never went out for me, I just lost cell phone service for several days. Places near me had flooding: Bryson City, Dillsboro, and Cherokee, but none of it was serious…not compared to Waynesville, just a bit further east. Or Asheville. Spruce Pine. Crusco. Canton. Marshall. Black Mountain. Swannanoa. And so many more places. Being in the eye of the storm had definite advantages this time and the east side…the ‘bad’ side…was certainly the wrong side of the storm to be on.

I used to live in one of the hardest hit areas. Many of my friends still live there. They are suffering. Friends in Asheville…suffering. Business owners, people with missing or dead members of their family/friend group…suffering. It’s challenging to know how to deal with something of this magnitude affecting so many. 

So, I’ve done the only thing I know to do to find balance: I’ve gone deeper into Nature. Last weekend, it was a hike up Kuwohi. And Thursday night, it was a drive up Kuwohi to see the aurora. 

I stood outside, under a canopy of stars, and tried to stay warm in the near-freezing temperatures. The hazy red glow of the aurora and the occasional white streaks of light, kept me transfixed, completely focused on the sky. 

I spent about an hour at the large parking lot and then moved my car down the mountain, little-by-little, where I would stop for half an hour or more. I’d open the moon roof and my window and prop my phone on the mirror, the side of the car, or on top of the roof and take 10 second exposures. My entire focus was on being still and receiving beauty.

One parking place had a small trickle of water dripping down the side of the mountain. I sat inside my car and felt the mountain’s presence with me. It was as if an elder was sitting with me observing the beauty, helping me stay present.

I didn’t want to drive home, but after four hours of cold, I needed to get warm. And it was midnight. But one last treat awaited me on the way home.

Bull elk had blocked the road with their sparring. They were bugling and claiming their cows as the aurora lit up the sky. Seemed sort of a perfect way to end the evening.

Beauty has helped bring me into balance. Hiking last weekend, up the By-Pass Trail to the summit, was powerful. The summit was totally covered by the clouds, but the clouds were exactly what I needed: to feel contained.

Thursday night, the sky was crystal clear so the aurora and stars…the Milky Way…helped me expand again and begin to open to beauty…to life.

Sometimes it’s difficult to embrace beauty. When we’ve seen the ugly side of life, beauty can feel overwhelming. But at some point, we need the healing effects of beauty. Because that, too, is a part of life.

Suffering. Beauty. Loss. Beauty. Destruction. Beauty. 
Mountain Morning

Mountain Morning

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How many insects are singing? It’s a holy chorus of sacred song. Wren is the soloist, chirping and trilling her morning song. Mockingbird is the diva that claims arias all her own.

We are in the embrace of the clouds, held in white moisture that breaths us as we join the day.

Orange cat perches on the wood rack, awaiting breakfast. Black dog watches for squirrels; Hound gazes into foggy woods. All of us expectant of some mystical moment that signals the start to the next phase of our day.

But for now, we breathe clouds, enjoy music of the woods, and each other’s company and the presence of delightful beings with which we share this mountain.
Rattlesnake

Rattlesnake

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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. 

Album cover art, Strumbellas 2019

Let us claim our voice and not be silenced. 
Cosmic Whales

Cosmic Whales

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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.

It’s time for a rebirth.

Mother and Calf Bliss
Ascending

Ascending

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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.