playing in the snow

We finally have snow!  This is what winter is suppose to look like.  Not enough yet for snowshoeing, but plenty for a winter hike through the woods.  Today I visited my pine tree forest.  It wasn't my initial plan, but I could hear them calling, inviting me to join them and I just couldn't resist.  My brother calls me a hippie, a friend of mine calls me a tree hugger...you can call me what you want, but there is something about those trees that makes me feel at home.  Like they are my family and it's where I belong.  I feel like they hear the feelings and thoughts of my heart and they speak to me.  Not in the outer spoken word that we humans have come to rely on so heavily, but in a deep inner way.

There is something amazing about connecting to a certain piece of the earth.  I don't feel this way everywhere.  I love being in the woods or out in nature anywhere, but there are certain spots that feel more sacred for me.  There are 3 spots here.  One of them is this pine tree forest.  It's actually my most favorite.  It's quite a hike to get there...into the woods, by a stream, over the bridge, through a marsh, up a hill, down a hill, around a corner and...oh my god it's amazing.  I can feel their excitement to see me, to experience my presence, as soon is I enter the woods.  When I come around that corner, it's like I hear their joyous singing, mixed with mine, in my heart.  Hundreds of those solid, slim trees rise from the ground, reaching up and up into the sky.  Today the ground is covered in snow, but most of the rest of the year it's a blanket of gold.  It's almost like they are rising to great me, standing tall to welcome me into their arms.

Snow glitters in the sun as it cascades from branches and swirls through the air.  There's an ecstasy of solitude, a certain quality peacefulness that only exists in the snowy woods.  I've known it since I was a child.  These are my woods.  This is my pine tree forest.  Not because I own it, but because I belong to it.  If you must know, yes, I hugged a couple trees.  I do every time I go.  It feels good.

Free of Circumstances

Occasionally I wake up in the morning with a thought in my head, almost like a message for me.  It floats in during that space between still being asleep and just waking up.  One morning it was "the smile I brought you yesterday, today I bring in great abundance."  That one was kind of fun.  I wrote it on my mirror so I would remember it.  More recently, I had one that was a real thinker.

"It is not that you must know yourself changed from the circumstances; it's that you must know yourself free of the circumstances."

This really got me to thinking.  I tend to value my most challenging and difficult experiences by acknowledging how I have learned from them, changed from them, grown into the person I am today from them.  They are always there, in the background of my life, defining who I am today.  I mean this in the most positive sense, not as a way to indulge in feeling victimized or as a way to justify blame.  I value looking back with a more spiritual perspective of understanding and being able to acknowledge that there's something bigger going on here.

Clearly, we learn from our experiences of the past.  Being in the present moment does not mean we forget all that's come before and continue to repeat patterns of behavior that do not serve us well.  There's no doubt that our experiences create and mold us.  The trials and tribulations, as well as the joys and accomplishments, have all played a role in me becoming the person I am today.  But  how long do I actively hold onto those past stories as a way to define myself?  I have my stories...the time this person did me wrong, but I learned from it;  the experience of dealing with someone's difficult behaviors, but it helped me transform as I incorporated it into my spiritual practice; how making difficult choices that honored myself helped to empower me and make me a stronger and more independent person.  I've told these stories again and again...and again.  Not because I consider myself a victim, but because I believe they bring insight into understanding the person I am today.  I certainly know myself as "changed from the circumstances".

It struck me the other day, however, that even holding onto those stories for what I consider to be a more spiritual or positive reason, is still holding onto the past.  How do I know myself "free of the circumstances"?  Yes, I've learned, grown, matured, transformed, evolved.  I honor myself for the personal and spiritual work I do in these moments to heal the broken places within myself.  But I'm not going to lose that learning or healing if I let the stories go.  I'm not going to become un-healed or un-transformed.

It's not necessary for me to hold a narration in my head of how I got here.  I just need to be here.  Right here.  Right now.  In this moment.  I am.  Free.

Poetry of Life

For a while I was in this phase of writing poetry.  It was a pretty intense phase, given I had never really written it before and then suddenly it seemed to be pouring out of me.  At times I didn't even feel like it was me.  Like somehow these words, this expression, was flowing into me and I was just the vessel through which it could be made manifest.  Some of it I look back on and read and honestly can't believe I actually wrote it.  But over the past year that river of poetry has slowly dried up.  Even when I try to write something, it just feels so contrived.  I had shared this with a friend not too long ago and he asked what had changed that had made me close myself off to receiving like I had in the past.

I definitely miss the feeling, the passion that would awaken me at night as the words started flowing in, not allowing me to sleep until I at least jotted some notes down on paper...constantly turning the light on, then off, then back on as more came to me.  Restless nights, yet so exciting.  I miss the feeling in my heart, the warmth that carried the expression down my arms and out my fingertips to the paper or keyboard.  I miss the thrill of finishing a piece, the sense of completion and the desire to read it over and over again because my own poetry was speaking to me on such a deep level.  I miss the feeling of vulnerability of reading it to another person, or sharing with the world on my blog, or with only myself because sometimes it's just way too personal. 

Have I closed myself off?  I really never felt like this was the case.  It simply felt like something had changed.  That I was meant to receive all I did during that time period (because honestly it helped me through an extremely challenging time in my life) and maybe now...well, now is just different.  Now I think poetry has evolved for me.  I sit outside on this fall day, caught up in experiencing the coolness of the air and the warmth of the sun on my skin; watching the journey of a single leaf, accentuated by clear blue sky, floating and spinning on it's way to the earth; sharing a moment with the dragonflies that land on my blanket, hopefully rescuing me from the mosquitoes; walking through crunchy leaves in my bare feet; laughing at the look on Gram's face as she exclaims that she almost stepped on a snake;  tasting the spreading ecstasy of the leaves as they're slowly lit by the climbing sun.  (I had to steal that last line from David Abram as he speaks of Van Gogh's paintings...it was just so incredibly sensuous!)

I am immersed in poetry.  I have been absorbed into nature's artistic expression.  Maybe poetry for me has evolved from a time to express it in words, to a time to experience it.  Each moment is a poem.  My life itself is my poetry and it speaks to me.  I still like to return to my written poetry, those poems like pictures capturing moments in my life.  But no longer is it a time for me to put poetic words to paper or screen, organized into rhymes or stanzas or flowing free, but to live the poetry that is always being received and held within my heart. 

Aunnie's Special Reiki Day (Part 2)

I recently taught Reiki 1 to my 7 year old nephew.  He was very excited about finally getting to have his special Reiki day with Aunnie (that's me! :)  I had taught my niece a couple years earlier (Part 1) and she had told him all about what to expect...hiking, lunch, coloring book...I'm not actually sure how much she remembers of the actual Reiki part, but that's okay.  These kids are awesome and I think I end up learning just as much when I'm with them!

As it was the day after Hurricane Irene, we hit a few road blocks to my initial plans.  The place I wanted to take him hiking at was closed, the restaurant I wanted to take him to lunch was closed.  This involved a lot of driving, through major traffic intersections with no lights working, to find other places.  But as my nephew pointed out, "we're going to make the most of today no matter what, right Aunnie?"  Yes, yes we are.  First stop, Joe's Rock in Wrentham for a little hike as we discussed energy.  We were greeted at first arrival by the cries of a red-tailed hawk.  This hawk, and about 4 others, seemed to follow us throughout our journey in the woods.  It was pretty amazing.  But even more amazing to him are the rocks.  Ever since I started taking him hiking, he has been a rock hound.  Usually my pockets are filled with the cool rocks he has discovered.  He is a child after my own heart!  We talked about looking for special rocks to use as part of his attunement and what it means to set an intention. 

Then to American Joe's for lunch.  I have this great little Reiki Kids coloring book and he was thrilled to work on it and talk about Reiki and Energy and Chakras as we waited for our meals.  When I asked him to draw a picture of how he could use Reiki, he drew a picture of himself giving Reiki to someone who was sick.  I think his favorite part was the energy ball I showed him how to make with his hands.  It was so awesome to see his eyes look at me in amazement as he exclaimed he could feel the energy between his hands..."it's like something is there, it's like my hands are growing!" 

Then we were off to my office so he could pick out a special crystal to be used as part of his Reiki attunement.  Neither my office, nor my home had electricity at the time.  I have a special Reiki Kids meditation CD, but I had explained to him we might not be able to do a meditation if there still was no electricity when we got home.  He then told me he was going to say a special Reiki prayer that the electricity would be on by the time we got to the house.  Holding his crystal in the back seat of my car, he very seriously said a prayer to himself.  And believe it or not, we walked in the front door and the lights were on!  It was a glorious moment! We finished the day with a Journey with the Dolphins guided meditation and then his attunement.

Truly, it was my special Reiki day and a day I know he'll always remember.  I'll repeat what I wrote after the day with my niece: So there's no point here, except to share this beautiful day. Oh, and maybe to share what I learned...the importance of honoring our children for the wisdom they possess and encouraging them to discover it for and within themselves. And the recognition that we have so much to learn from these kids...so much to learn from seeing the world through their eyes.

(For anyone interested in learning more about Reiki Kids: http://www.reikikids.ca/ )

An Experience of Perception

Magic, then, in its perhaps most primordial sense, is the experience of existing in a world made up of multiple intelligences, the intuition that every form one perceives--from the swallow swooping overhead to the fly on a blade of grass, and indeed the blade of grass itself--is an experiencing form, an entity with its own predilections and sensations, albeit sensations that are very different from our own. -David Abram, The Spell of the Sensuous


I am reading this book currently and I am spellbound by it.  It makes me think, makes me feel.  My brain is being stretched into new realms of thought.  It's opening me up to new ways of understanding and perceiving.  And sometimes it's simply putting to words what I've already been experiencing and feeling.  As I sat outside reading today, I started to think about perception.  I kind of touched on this in my blog post These Moments, written over a year ago.  Basically the idea that what I perceive only exists by the very act of me perceiving it.  The perceiver and the perceived cannot exist apart from each other.  Abram says it more eloquently, "...perception...is inherently participatory...always involving, at its most intimate level, the experience of active interplay...between the perceiving body and that which it perceives."   There is a dance going on here.  We are engaged by the things we are perceiving.  Those things, whether we term them as animate or inanimate, are actively engaging us in the act of perception.  For me, this gives dynamic life to everything!

So I sit here, on the swing in my front yard, perceiving or being engaged into the act of perception, by the tree in front of me, the squirrel cautiously observing me, the grass under my feet, the cool rain drops falling on my skin.  And I can't help but wonder...is the rain perceiving me?  I can more clearly see that the squirrel or the birds or the crickets and especially the mosquitoes (!!!) obviously perceive me.  My presence is engaging them into the act of perception, as they are engaging me.  But how about the other forms that make up the totality of nature? Nature is alive with perception.  If the tree can experience the gift of the sun or a thirst quenching rain, surely it experiences my body as I lean up against it.  If I can experience the shift in energy in the woods when the sun sets, then surely the woods experiences my energy, the energy I bring into that place with me.

My imagination begins to roam wild with the possibilities.  As I perceive the sensations of the earth as I walk with barefoot feet, is the earth perceiving my footsteps upon her?  As I perceive the rain falling on my skin, is the rain perceiving this warm body it lands upon?  As I perceive the ocean surrounding and engulfing me, does the ocean perceive this dense body floating through it?  As I perceive the air gently swirling across my skin and through my hair, does the air perceive this resistance to its flow, this object it must move around? Does any of this exist without me? Do I exist without it?  It's exciting to me and adds a whole new dimension to my time spent in nature.  As I hike through the woods, as I watch the honeybees, as I hang out in my yard, as I sit quietly in nature, I am the perceiver and the perceived.  In the moments I experience nature, nature is also experiencing me.  Maybe not in the same way I experience, but in its own unique way.  It surely is magical!

The Rhythm of Life

There's something that happens inside me when I hear the beat of a drum.  Any drum I suppose, but particularly hand drums.  I feel something being stirred deep within, like a remembering.  I feel that remembering slowly pulsing and vibrating from my heart center out into the rest of my body and I want to just close my eyes and be swept away with it.  This is why I love participating in drum circles.  I love being part of creating the rhythm as well as experiencing it.  I can sit there, allowing my hands to drum that simple basic beat, and let my awareness flow into the energy of the circle.  Everyone finds their unique style, their variation of the beat, their individuality, but we're all connected by that central pulse.

At the most recent drum circle I attended, I was one of four who played the large center drum for one of the sessions.  We were the keepers of the central pulse.  I had this image of being part of the earth's core.  We were the earth's center, her rhythm emanating from this drum, providing the foundation of the life-giving rhythm to all the other drummers in the circle.  These individual drummers weren't just people anymore.  The drumming of each person came to represent life on this earth...the rhythm of the trees, birds, insects, humans, flowers, rocks, fish, animals...the rhythm of each species that inhabits this earth.  Each has its own unique rhythm, and yet we are all connected by that central pulse.  We are separate and yet one.

The leader of the drum circle pointed out how drum solos can be a beautiful part of the circle.  One person rising above the rest, leaving the main rhythm to express their gift, their beauty, their uniqueness for a few moments and then returning to the natural beat.  There is magic in this ebb and flow, expressing and receiving. But he also pointed out how problems can arise when one person monopolizes the solo, playing on and on.  Being so focused on hearing his/her own expression and forgetting that they are only one piece of what creates the magic in the circle.  "It sounds great for the person playing the solo, not so great for the rest of the circle."

I thought about this today as I walked barefoot through the woods.  Maybe humanity has been playing it's solo too loudly and for too long.  We just keep going and going, forgetting that we are simply one species of life making its home here.  We are not the 'end all, be all'.  For our lives as humans, as the whole of humanity, we need to step back and listen.  We need to remember the sacred rhythm of the earth's pulse.  We need to pay attention to and receive the solos of all the other species of life here.  Just as nature's rhythm keeps the central beat for us, we also need to step back for a while and be the ones holding the central beat steady.  In this way, we uplift and support the rhythm for all other forms of life on this planet.  No one species is meant to drown out and deafen.  We are here to add our beat, as one small part, to the larger rhythm of life.  I think when we can truly find this balance, this remembering, we will see healing...healing for humanity and healing for our earth.

"...it's more important to pay attention to the spaces between the notes, because that's where the magic takes place." -Dave 'Drumhead' Curry


For more info on drumming, check out Dave's website Drums for One and All or find him on Facebook.

Pay Attention

Slowly, the air began to stir; the leaves began to swirl and blur.  Taking on a new dimension, they spelled two words: PAY ATTENTION! Pay attention, Celestine, said the voice of one unseen.  And Celestine saw a small door where none, he thought, had been before.

This is an excerpt from a book, The Song of Celestine, I used to read to my niece when she was younger.  It's a kids book written by James Redfield, the author of The Celestine Prophecy.  My niece loved it because of the beautiful pictures and the fact that I could replace her name (Alexa Jeanne) into the story and still have it rhyme.  "Pay attention" is one of my 3 rules for when I take the kids hiking.  The other two rules are no fighting and no whining...self explanatory.  It's been fun to watch them really grasp onto the idea of paying attention in nature; to witness the spark of their curiosity as they wonder what made that hole in the ground, or discover a design of rocks someone made just off the trail, or notice that the outcropping of rock over there looks like a dinosaur head (and can we go sit on it please!).

I have to remind myself to pay attention when I'm out in the woods too.  Sometimes my head becomes riddled with thoughts, daydreams and to do lists.  Pay attention said the voice of one unseen.  Those words bring me back to the reason I am out in the woods in the first place - to connect with nature, to ground and center myself. It's not just paying attention from a naturalist perspective of noticing and identifying birds, animals, trees and plants.  It's paying attention to the much subtler magic of nature and how I am a part of it all...the way the bare branches of the trees hit against each other as the wind blows through, as if they are clapping for me as I walk by; the bone aching chill of the ice cold water I dip my feet into; the sounds of the gurgling brook I am sitting next to as it flows effortlessly down the rocky hillside; the wind blowing my hair around...and somehow it all gets me to thinking about the implications simply paying attention can have in our relationships.

From family to friends to clients to strangers...how am I paying attention to the people in my life?   Not with a point to prove or an agenda to get across.  Not just hearing their words, but feeling what's behind the words.  Not just observing their outer actions, but sensing what may be going on inside.  Not just looking at the image they present, but into the 'beingness' of who they are.  How do I listen to more than what I can hear with my ears and observe more than what I can see with my eyes?  And then how do I respond to them from that place; a place that truly honors my connection to each and every soul?  And Celestine saw a small door where none, he thought, had been before.  It's amazing the doors we can open in our relating to each other when we are truly present with one another, when we are truly paying attention.

On Being a Reiki Master

The title Reiki Master has been one I've had an internal struggle with since I received my Reiki Master attunement in August of 2006.  I remember having a friend proof-read a resume I was updating and pointing out that I needed to change 'Reiki Practitioner' to 'Reiki Master'.  I hadn't missed this change, but had actually intentionally left my title as Reiki Practitioner because of my discomfort with the term Master.  I didn't (and still don't) feel like a master of anything!  I'm not sure that Reiki is something that can ever be mastered.  However, as it goes in the world of business, I do want to be able to let people know what I do in a clear way and titles make that easier.

About a year ago, I found a website that had a very different description of being a Reiki Master than what I'd been exposed to in the past.  For the life of me, I haven't been able to find that website again, but with that influence I've tried to encapsulate what it means to me.  Becoming a Reiki Master was not the end of a journey, not the final say in an accomplishment, not a completion of learning.  It was actually my induction into the beginning.  For me, it has become a way of life and something that I am conscious of every day and, with practice, every moment.  My initial Reiki journey began with the necessary foundation of understanding energy and the chakra system, and learning the Reiki hand positions and symbols.  My Reiki Master journey began with learning how to let all of that go.  Rather than attempting to master Reiki, my focus is on mastering myself, which is a life-long course!  I am actively working to heal the broken parts of me and to release the beliefs and behaviors that no longer serve me.  It is only through finding this whole and complete place within my Self, unencumbered by fears, negative thought patterns and judgments, that I can truly offer myself in being of assistance to another's growth and healing.

Our ego's get involved in a lot of our ways of thinking and behaving in this world.  I have resisted this title of Reiki Master because I was afraid it was my ego that wanted it.  And I do think there is danger in getting too attached to titles and things, to the point where we allow them to establish our identity and feel like we are nothing without them.  But I also think it's the ego that tries to diminish us and make us believe we should present a 'less than' version to the world of the magnificence of who we each are as individuals.  I love being able to see how far I've come on this journey, as well as experiencing the excitement and anticipation of all I have yet to learn.  I love giving Reiki treatments and assisting others as they heal themselves.  I love teaching Reiki to others and serving as a guidepost in their learning.  I love being a Reiki Master.  Not because it's a title I get to put on a business card, but because it is truly aligned with my path with heart.

Paying Myself First

"Pay yourself first."  I'm sure I've heard this from multiple sources over the years, but it was Robert Kiyosaki's explanation of the concept that really made it sink in.  This is as I remember it, so forgive me if it's not exact...he explained that it was important to pay yourself first because then you will do what you need to do to get the rest of your bills paid. It may mean finding other sources of income, a part-time second job, prioritizing your spending differently, etc.  Essentially because you have to...there are more negative consequences for not paying your bills than not paying yourself.  If you pay all your bills first and have nothing left to pay yourself, you just won't.  No one holds you accountable to yourself except yourself.  When I first started working at the wellness center I recently left, I took on a second job at a garden center to pay my bills while I worked to build my clientele.  Granted, I can't say I really put into practice the concept of paying myself first, but I completely understood the idea of doing what I needed to pay my bills.  My point, however, is not about finances.  It's about balance.

Over the past couple months I have been in the process of starting up my own business.  I had finally come to the point where my fear and resistance to going out on my own became something I was willing to face.  I love it.  It's been exciting and rewarding.  And of course I've had my days of feeling completely overwhelmed and stressed.   It has taken a lot of hard work and energy and I'm still getting used to the newness of it all.  There are many days where I feel like all I do is work all day;  between office work and actually seeing clients and then coming home to do more computer work, manage all the household responsibilities, and be the best caregiver I can be right now for my Gram (I thank God for a very supportive family!)  I can see how very easy it is to get so caught up in working, that I lose the balance in my life of keeping myself healthy physically, emotionally and spiritually.  One of my recent Toltec lessons was on 'making things non-negotiable'.  The practice is to choose four things to do every day that I feel will make a difference in my life and to make them non-negotiable.  I decided on (1) ACIM and Toltec lessons/readings, (2) meditation, (3) yoga, (4) the practice of a gazing technique I learned recently.  But seriously, how am I going to do these everyday with everything else I have going on and need to do?!

I need to pay myself first.  I'm the first one to tell people that we need to prioritize our own self-care if we want to be available for others.  In this case, paying myself first means prioritizing these four things in my daily life because I know they will help me maintain balance.  They will help me maintain a healthy flow within my life, rather than my overdrive, crash and burn pattern.  The thing is, the 'to do' list will always be there.  I cross one thing off and write in three more.  There will never come a point where everything in life will be done, finally leaving me time for myself.  It doesn't work that way.  So I will prioritize that time for myself now, each day, and know I'll be able to get done what I need to in the time that's left, even if it means finding new and creative ways to do that. In fact, I think I will find myself feeling more calm and having more energy and joie de vivre overall!  What are the things you do to bring balance into your life?  How do you pay yourself first?

In The Woods

"Nature is made to conspire with spirit to emancipate us." 

When I read this line in Ralph Waldo Emerson's book "Nature" earlier today, I couldn't help but smile with a deep sense of knowing.  I love Emerson.  He speaks so eloquently of our love of and connection to nature.  I feel like he speaks the words of my own heart.  I have considered the past couple years to be the journey of my emancipation…a journey of facing fears, becoming aware of unhealthy patterns in my life so I can make healthier choices, releasing self-judgment and self-imposed limitations, and dissolving what ACIM refers to as the blocks in my awareness to the experience of Love.  My time spent in nature has played an extraordinary role in assisting me on this healing journey.

In the woods, I feel a sense of innocence emerge.  In the woods, I experience the excitement of exploration and the awe of discovery.  In the woods, I am continually filled with curiosity and wonder.  In the woods, I dance to the song of the pine tree forest blanketed in the aromatic glow of fallen needles.  In the woods, I soar in harmony with the birds and frolic playfully with the squirrels.  In the woods, I flow gracefully through life like water over the rocks in a stream.  In the woods, I align with my own inner guidance, wisdom, understanding and peace.  In the woods, I find my grace. 

When I'm alone in the woods is actually when I feel the least alone.  For me, it's where duality comes together; where the physical and spiritual worlds find their harmony.  Where I can, in one moment as I look up to the trees towering above me and into the vast expanse of infinite sky, feel so insignificant.  And yet, in the next moment as I inhale the scent of pine needles and earth, feel the sun on my face and the gentle breeze in my hair, experience the grandeur of being a part of it all.  It is harmonic resonance...all matter vibrating at its own frequency, joining in a beautiful symphony.  It is as if I no longer exist as separate...like I can, all at once, be nothing and everything.  It is in this moment I am set free.

Confessions of a Scaredy-Cat Nature Girl: Part 2

It was much darker already when I went out to the tent the second night.  My fears were a little more heightened, I think because of how dark it was.  Even the dark seemed darker than the night before.  But this time I came prepared to sleep, with my pillow, extra blankets and warmer pj's since it was a little cool.  I laid there, looking at the sky, convincing myself that the noises in the woods were just birds, squirrels, chipmunks, etc.  I was just starting to drift off to the lullabies of the crickets when...

WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!  A noise that did not fit into any category of nature in my mind ripped through the night.  I sat upright, ears straining to hear more.  Oh.  Gram was just closing the kitchen window.  As the rush of adrenaline finally started to subside, I once again began to drift off.  I could feel that pulse of energy right at the border of sleep, aware of the slow steadiness of my breathing.  Eventually I started to shift into the dream world.  And then I was jolted awake from my semi-sleep by the sound of an animal scurrying in the woods.  Damn.  Now I'm hungry, I can't relax, and I'm just not feeling this tonight.  So I head back in the house, grab a snack, read for a bit and go to sleep.

I am awoken to the sound of someone or something screaming outside.  What the hell?!  My cat, Lady Jane, is freaking out, her eyes bulging and her tail puffed.  My heart is racing.  And I hear it again, and again, and again...about a dozen times.  It finally began to register in my mind that I am hearing a fisher cat for the first time.  I know only because my parents have had them around their house and have described their sound to me.  All I could think in that moment was THANK GOD I am not in the tent right now!  But I can't help but wonder, dear fisher cat, what message do you bring?  Stealth, courage, observation, trusting my instincts...hmmm, so much to learn from the energy of the natural world.  Even so, I think I'll just stick to early evening meditations for a bit.  I'm all about facing my fears, reaching and expanding out of my comfort zone, but all in due time.  I will sleep out there at least one night before the summer is over!