I’m starting to offer guided meditations. These meditations feature nature sounds and gentle, guided imagery to help relax, practice mindfulness, and go deeper into the spiritual journey. My first one is simply entitled, Guided Meditations. You can purchase by making a donation. Click the PayPal Link HERE
The titles are: Beach Walk, Bear Cave, Council of Beings, Diamond Hill, Mountain Mist, Rock in the River. You can choose one or more than one for a donation. All feature Nature sounds and gentle, guided meditation to help with stress, to go deeper into your life, and to simply feel better.
My music releases are available on all streaming platforms. It’s music for relaxation, yoga, and heart-opening. Mountain Mystic Music…that’s me!
I have a confession to make. Anyone that follows my writing and photography knows I hike. I have a deep love for the trails and forests that said trails meander through in the Smoky Mountains. But I don’t just hike…I dance. And since truth is a light I bear, I also sing and have been known to play one of my flutes to the creeks, trees, rocks, and today I played for a great blue heron.
It was a moment of flow, where the music of the water and the song of my soul came into harmony. I was smiling as I played in the blissful state.
Standing on a large rock beside the creek, I recalled feeling this open in Ireland when the wind was playing standing fence pipes and I sat in the lush grass in the 5000 year old stone fort and wrote in my diary: we are like flutes, with Spirit the wind and if we open ourselves, we can be in universal harmony and allow Spirit to play us, to move us. So….I was remembering that moment and feeling that inner flow and harmony when a beautiful great blue heron flew within a few feet of me on her way to a favorite rock somewhere upstream. There’s no way to capture that image other than with words and simply closing my eyes and seeing her fly, hearing the water and flute…feeling the Oneness of us all.
Magic happens when we can be in a place of neutral stillness, with no agenda, and just follow the energy as it arises within and around us. I have received a lot of guidance about being neutral lately, of not putting myself in a position against anyone, but being in neutral and allowing that stillness, that stillpoint, to unfold. If we hook into the chaos, we feed it. So it’s a balancing act of learning to be neutral, finding stillpoint within, and staying in that place. Maybe that’s unconditional Love.
My friend Katherine describes it like this: “True Love is Neutral. True love has no polarity. As we strive to seek that point of stillness, to hold that point of stillness as an anchor, a fulcrum, a central point of balance, around which the chaos of polarity can bring itself to Quiet, and fold itself into the same resonance of stillness…until there only exists the Neutral, the True Love.” I like her explanation. A lot.
Something special happens when I allow myself the freedom to sing, dance, and play my flute in these sacred places. I consciously acknowledge the spirits of the places, the pure essence of life, and allow myself to celebrate them and all life. There’s so much we have to grieve about in this time of chaos, but there is also so incredibly much to celebrate.
One of the old growth trees along Ramsey Cascades Trail
What has made you dance lately? What songs are you singing? How has your soul expressed itself? Find a way to celebrate the beauty, even as the old paradigm crumbles. Refuse to hook into the chaos because it’s counting on us to feed it with anger, hatred, and fear. Step away from that trap. Feed your soul beauty and share that experience with the world.
I parked at 6am at the trailhead. It was only 65 degrees but I started to sweat as I stood alongside my Subie. The humidity…oh, the humidity!
Within 10 minutes I had my pack on and was heading up the semi-dark trail. It was light enough to see in some places, but with heavy rhododendron cover and tree canopy, a little headlamp light was nice…and I hoped it would alert the bears that I was heading their way. (I only smelled one).
The top of Mount LeConte was my destination, but I had concerns about lightning. The forecast looked okay for the morning, but early afternoons have been the lightning-bringer. Rain I was prepared for, but we’ve had so many pop-up storms lately and being on the ridge or summit of a 6593’ mountain…just brought really bad memories of a hike last summer at Kuwohi.
My friend Amelia and I hiked from the parking lot at Kuwohi, up the Bypass trail, then took a left on the Appalachian Trail and hiked to Siler’s Bald…5 miles from our start. We had a nice break and lunch at the bald and when we stood up to leave saw a massive storm over Fontana Lake below us. And of course it came our way. We were hiking back up to Kuwohi and ended up having lightning crackling overhead as we hiked. It was terrifying.
Given that scary experience last summer, I was being extra careful. You don’t have cell service to check radar to monitor storms. So….
There were a couple folks ahead of me, but not in my view. And I knew others were behind, but again…not in my hiking bubble. I had the trail to myself and even had Alum Cave to myself for a little while. But just above the cave, it got darker and started sprinkling. By the time I reached the 3.5 mile mark (out of my 5.5 destination), sheets of rain were falling. My rain gear was keeping me dry, but I wondered if lightning would be far behind.
I was feeling great, taking my time to enjoy the beauty of the trail but I live so close to this magical place, I can return easily another day. And every inch of trail I continued to hike up, I had to hike back down. So, I weighed my options and felt I’d be extra careful and start back down the trail as the rain created a small creek of water rushing down the trail.
I’m not someone who gives up on a goal easily and I absolutely love this hike. I’d already done what I consider the hardest part of the hike…but if you hear thunder, you’re already at risk and I want to be able to visit this place many more times.
There was still some decent elevation gain of 1673 feet up and 1709 feet down (how can you hike more down than you do up…I never understand that) and I hiked a total of 7 miles. So good workout and nearly four hours of expansion and beauty and communing with Nature. A couple hours since finishing and my body feels amazing….clear, aligned, sparkly, grounded. Joy is bubbling up within as I sit typing with Buddy curled up against me.
I set my alarm for 4.30am so I could go hike my favorite trail today. I had mixed feelings because it’s busy on a regular summer day, but the 4th of July weekend…I wasn’t sure.
Then, I woke up at 1.30am and couldn’t get back to sleep, so turned off the alarm and decided if I woke up early enough to get a parking space, I’d go and if not, I’d just stay home and skip the stress of the throngs of people.
I finally went back to sleep and slept until 6.09am, about the time I needed to be pulling into a parking space at the trail head. Whatever. I didn’t want to be around a ga-zillon people anyway and drive through the park with the insanity of traffic on this busy weekend.
But I miss the trail and miss the full day it takes to hike it….considering the day starts at 4.30 when I wake and then the hour long drive to the trail head, the 3 hours up and 2.5 hours down and then trying to pull out on the highway that runs through the park and the inevitable stoppage of traffic if someone takes a curve too fast. Two…three hours waiting for wreckers, rangers, and ambulances isn’t that unusual. So…gardening for me today.
I’m an active person who finds hiking in these mountains a wonderful way to engage with Nature and burn off my inner crazy. Stillness isn’t easy for me…at least on a meditation cushion.
I enjoy stillness through yoga…a sort of moving stillness that is at the same time grounding and expansive. But perhaps my most still moments are when I’m hiking the steep trails through upper elevation forests of fir and spruce trees. I’m physically exerting myself significantly, yet the trees and rocks and moss ground me deeply into their place so I can soar.
Traditionally we think of stillness as sitting and ‘doing nothing’ and letting our mind still. My mind is at its stillest point when I am in Nature, connecting viscerally with everything around me. That’s when everything aligns and calms within me. But sit me on a cushion and tell me to be still and silent and my mind screams at the grating expanse of stillness.
