Monday, October 27, 2014

Loving the Feared - A Message from Snake

I have SO missed my walks in the Grand Canyon that I have hardly walked at all since returning home a month ago. This morning in an attempt to jump start myself, I decided to try again.  

Across the street only a few steps out of my driveway, I looked down to find a small black snake killed unknowingly by a passing car.  Without hesitation, I scooped it up and placed it next to my heart.  I could not walk.  

I held this dear being of Creation.  As I sat, tears came then I heard:     

"Dawn, let your tears be few over my loss. Instead feel my gratitude that you found me. See my beauty. See the silver sparkle in the black and the white. See my perfectly patterned underside of parallel lines. But most of all feel my gratitude that you are not afraid to hold me ... close. You are not afraid of me."  

It is perfect snake and I find one another in this time of year in which people don costumes and masks of things feared.  Halloween gives us permission to name our fears, but we do really?  

Fear is used to sell and promote all kinds of things. Fear separates and births judgment.  It separates us from those appearing different from us and it separates us from our true inner Selves. Fear drives election campaigns. Fear is available, if we allow it, to overtly and covertly permeate and run our days and even our nights in our dreams.  

I held this snake and thought of ebola, the fear of the moment.  I recalled the "Sixty Minutes" interview I watched last evening with the Texas nursing staff that cared for Mr. Duncan, the Liberian man who was the first to die in America of ebola. On the internet people are now arguing as to the purpose of the interview.  (Was the hospital trying to "spin" a story and make themselves look good?)  

I don't really care for what was most important to me was the deep admiration I felt as I listened to these men and women speak.  One male nurse held Mr. Duncan's body upon his passing. 

He held the body of a man who had just died of ebola.  

It doesn't get more beautiful than that.  

I held the snake and said, "You are an amazing gift of creation." 

Snake said, "Love is the amazing gift."  

Yes, this level of Love is the amazing gift, the beautiful treasure held in the heart, feared by many.  This is the Love embodied by Jesus, Ghandi and Mother Teresa.  

This is the Love with which we come here equipped, a Love without fear especially when the One Loved is society's rejected and despised. 

I now walk into my day grateful that snake's presence jump started my heart. 

May all things feared be embraced. 

Thank you, thank you, Snake. 
-Dawn, The Good News Muse  27 October 2014

Friday, October 17, 2014

In Honor of Water and Indigenous People Everywhere

This piece honoring "Water" is shared in honor of New Zealand's Waitaha Nation and the Waitaha Water Gathering occurring now (Oct. 15-17) and for the first time ever open to the public.  Previously the gathering as been held in private every 50 years.  It was originally written honoring World Water Day March 22 every year. 

And to Dr. Masaru Emoto whose dedication to healing water has implications for healing without and within.  Dr. Emoto just passed and yet his presence will be felt forever. 

(Going to the Water in Cherokee)
A recent summer while in the Smoky Mountains and Cherokee, NC, I learned of the Cherokee ritual of "going to water."  

Early each morning the Cherokee would wade out waist deep into the river where they would throw water over their head and ask that any thoughts or feelings that hindered them from being closer to God be taken away.  (Note: Their God was not a caucasian, white-haired elder fellow casting people into hell from his heavenly throne. Nor was "He" to my knowledge used legislatively to administer or sway political POV's and policies.)  They would also ask that thoughts or feelings hindering them from being closer to all their brothers and sisters on earth, and the animals of earth be also taken. (from Living Stories of the Cherokee by Freeman Owle.)

What does your 'going to water' involve? 

Mine revolves around showering, flushing, brushing (my teeeth), perking and washing but not cleansing or forgiving in the Cherokee way.  Are your associations similar?  These aspects of going to the water have more to do with one's exterior than interior, don't they?

There are times when instead of going to the water the water comes to us as happened to Nashville and many TN communities during the flood of 2010.  This was followed by the tsunami in Japan, flooding in New England, along the Mississippi then Russia where 100 were killed in a flood and more recently in the Northeast with  Hurricane Sandy

Then there are times when the water doesn't come at all as occurred a few summers ago around my Middle Tennessee home resulting in crop loss and challenges to livestock. Even wildlife suffers in ways I was not aware.  While I was at Walden's Puddle, the local wildlife rehab sanctuary, with a baby raccoon a woman arrived with a frail fawn in her arms.  She had found this lifeless animal immobile in the middle of the road.  The technician said this was an increasing problem with the drought. She quickly determined it was dehydrated and took it away to administer an IV. 

Ironically there is a relational beauty resulting from flooding and drought that allows for a cleansing of sorts.  People typically separated by differences reach out to help one another.  Those who value animals are keenly tuned in to the needs of wildlife and pets in flood and drought conditions.  These events in nature prompt a sudden removal of the things that hinder us from being closer to our human brothers and sisters. 

My other association with " going to the water" entails a spring in the country where I've previously filled containers for drinking water.  The last time I was there I found the owner of the property just above the spring had cut most of the trees above where the road plateaus to land that looks out for miles.  

My distress was so great I avoided going to the personal waters of my heart that were stirred by the scene of dozens of trees whose lives are now evidenced by stumps. 

I wanted spring water to mix with sacred water from England's Glastonbury Well, a gift from my sister-friend Carol in NY.  With the drought at the time, I was uncertain the spring would be flowing.  To my relief, a steady stream poured from the pipe.  To my dismay not only were the trees cut, but a bag of trash had been tossed down the incline by the small parking area.  The contents of the bag were scattered about likely by a raccoon or squirrel.  By the bench at the spring lay a plastic Hooter's to-go bag alongside two cigarette butts.

This prompted the appearance of trash from inside the fountain that's me.  Yes, my inner-personal trash was energetically thrown out onto whoever had thrown trash into the woods.  I truly didn't think people still did that kind of thing.  Then I energetically 'trashed' the Hooter's patron and all those who create businesses that objectify women regardless of how "good" the food tastes. (Did the designer of the Hooter's logo, an owl, know the owl is symbolic of the Divine Feminine?)

I found relief in imagining the Hooter's patron having dinner by the spring rather than in the restaurant.  As for the bag of trash in the woods, I envisioned it being thrown out by a teenager trying to avoid trouble because he or she had forgotten to take it to the nearby county garbage site as a parent possibly asked.  Maybe Earth became the receptacle so these individuals could avoid being the receptacle of scolding.

Ironically I left the Spring happy.  Being there washed my negative thoughts away - until we drove home a different way.  The Cumberland Plateau like much of Tennessee is blessed with springs.  On this particular day, the abundant water sources visible as we drove reminded me of hydraulic fracturing called fracking, the questionable process used by gas companies to extract natural gas from earth. Tennessee seems open game for those with fracking interests.  

These are the days in which CEO's, politicians and those with overt power are literally 'going to water' for great monetary profit thanks to greed, negligence and power.  Simultaneously they and their hired hands, lobbyists, go to the airwaves to stir dissension and increase the division between the common people. They emphasize they're creating jobs and increasing our energy self-sufficiency while denying the potential short and long-term effects associated with the chemical cocktail used in the fracking process.  These chemicals create toxicity in our waters leading to increased disease not to mention the harm done to the ecological system.  

I found myself wondering what the Cherokee would have to say about fracking.  The Navaho and Hopi have battled companies for years regarding the mining practices contaminating the underground aquifer from which they get their water. 

What is the path to right relationship with those who litter the spring in the country and roadsides as well as those who sell Nature with seeming disregard for health and long-term welfare of the planet and people?  Does the wisest path lie in the Cherokee story?  

This path suggests I always start with clearing the fountain within, forgiving those I judge and asking that they forgive me my judgment.  It involves "going" to the personal waters of my heart and staying with the things that stir me rather than ignoring or avoiding these things.  This means allowing my personal waters to flow and be felt whether in sorrow or joy. 

The worst thing I can do is allow the fountain in me to become clogged or "trashed" with judgment, resistance, fear, rigidity, pessimism, grudges, despair, a sense of threat or hatred.  This distances me from the personal waters of Me and from my fellow man.   

What if the waters of our world are healed as we honor the waters of our hearts, the tears of joy as well as sorrow wanting to flow and be felt? 

The implications of  'going to the water' are stunning. Can you imagine the difference made if each of us practiced "going to the water" every morning. Imagine the resulting shift in our nations capital, our state capitals and our communities?   Imagine the changes that would occur in broader energy company policy if we first consciously tended the energy company each of us personally holds? We are the CEO's in charge of how our mind, heart and will's personal energy is spent?

I was about to write, "There are no easy answers."  Yet something tells me if we each practiced 'going to the water" as the traditional Cherokee did the answers would come, the shifts would flow and our world would see great change.  

What better time than this during the first ever public meeting of the Waitaha Water Gathering to begin 'going to the water' wherever you live.  Each morning as you shower or bathe ask that all that comes between you and the Divine as well as life on Earth be cleansed and washed away. 

-Dawn, The Good News Muse,  17 October 2014
first posted  in honor of World  Water Day 22 March 2013 

Thursday, October 16, 2014

For What Would You Drive 100 Miles?

My friend Merle, a now retired former therapist, once told me she asked clients for what they were willing to drive 100 miles. This helped her assess their passion...or lack thereof as most folks hadn't a clue for what they'd drive that far. 

I thought at times there were symphonies or hikes for which I might drive nearly two hours but tonight I actually did it. 

Upon learning it was to be in the mid-forties in the country outside Nashville where I have a home and hummingbirds, I got in my car during rush hour and drove 102 miles to ensure any hummingbirds still hanging around will have warm sugar water at sunrise. I can imagine some would laugh or belittle me for this but I really don't care. Even if the hummingbirds gone it has already been more than enough for me to do this. 

Last weekend as feeders warmed by the fire and later as a sweet female fed during the day. 
I have already felt deep joy in gathering five feeders in the dark and cleaning them for tomorrow. It has been worth 102 miles to find two spiders looking very dead in two feeders and gently placing them on a towel and they, these fragile frightening-to-many-dear beings, return to life. 

Returning to life...that is what Merle's question really addresses. 

Not shopping, spending, bank accounts or the cars we drive.  Not who we know, our zip code or hair color.  Not the stock market, religion or political party.  

Returning to LIFE, feeling ALIVE. 

For what would you drive 100 miles?
-Dawn, The Good News Muse , 16  Oct. 2014

When Tears Flow - Being in Alignment

Tears are a gift. When I let them flow as needed, I experience alignment internally.

This is what happened a week ago as I sat in my yard and finally cried.

Two weeks prior I experienced the same.  My intention that evening had been to sing at sunset over the valley of hood doos a few steps outside my cabin door.

Instead I ended up at an astronomy talk at the Bryce Canyon Lodge.  I specifically found myself in the floor by the stage in a room packed with over two hundred people as a NASA volunteer shared slide after slide of various manmade crafts in space and on planets.  I wanted to scream, "This is insane" upon learning one such craft has mapped the minerals found on Mars and another is actually drilling there.

As the presenter began I suddenly realized my intention to sing (which many of those present would have equally considered insane).

As the hour-long talk that I thought would never end concluded, I hurriedly left with my laptop, camera and phone in hand.

I rushed through the dark to my cabin weeping all the way.

Then it happened.  For the third time in two weeks, I fell. Not seeing the sidewalk, I tripped and landed on my knee and elbow while lifting, like a waitress with a tray, the technology I carried - technology that I'm certain had an assist from NASA in its creation.

I had just trekked 28 miles into the Grand Canyon and back without falling once.  Yet this particular evening and two other times recently I had tripped, slipped and stumbled.

Ordinary life is evidently more challenging for me than adventures like hiking in the Grand Canyon.

Jerry who was trying to keep up with me exclaimed, "Are you alright?" as I was already up and down the sidewalk continuing to cry.

I was headed to bed to have a "good cry."  I made it to the bed where I quickly realized in each of these falls I could have easily broken a bone especially when my feet slide out from under me on slick steps at home and I landed three steps down still talking on the phone while holding a half-gallon glass jar of water.  I kept right on talking, phone and jar in my hands while thinking, 'My angels held me just then.' 

I got it.  That night at Bryce Canyon I got it. I have been held.  I had a choice. I could cry in the bed or I could continue with what felt like my mission.

I walked to the stones and specifically down a path where one particular stone looks like a male watching over the valley below the rim.

And I sang.  I sang to the hoo doo's that to me feel very much alive.

I had no regrets.  The timing was perfect.

When I am focused on my path, the one external that is aligned with the one internal, I have no fears. I judge nothing 'insane' for I intuitively know we and Earth are held.  We are held in this Great Time.

And yet I still wonder about this outer space thing.  We have for decades sent people into outer space yet how many allow inner space for experience, especially tears, to flow?

Even I at times resist as I question:  Why am I crying? What is this about? I need to know before letting go.

I forget experience is and tears just are.

As happened Thursday night, when I honor them and let them flow releasing questions and attempts at control, my tears are followed by a sense of great peace and rest.

I am grateful to be able to cry. This is one of the many gifts of the heart.

Do you allow to come through you whatever needs to flow or do you try to control your experience by analyzing and trying to figure it out first?

May we all allow to come through us whatever needs to flow.

And may we have a felt sense that we are held. We are held.

-Dawn, The Good News Muse 16 Oct. 2014

Don't Loose Your Sense of Wonder

These two feathers captured my attention this week.  I spotted them when I wasn't even looking for feathers.  After a night of hard rain, one was plastered to the back of my chair and the other lay on the driveway.  Both were so wet I didn't recognize them as feathers initially.

I held this one

as I wrote and was taken even more to see its transformation as it dried.  What once was twig-like became a flourishing fan.  

These feathers became part of my morning quiet as I pondered why they drew me in.  

Their transformation captured me yet it was more than that.  Things unexpected, overlooked, stepped on, the unnoticed daily things in life hold beauty and inspiration for me.  

That something so small and seemingly fragile could empower flight in my yard, across continents, and around the world as migrations presently occur is miraculous.  Scientists of course would suggest this is just the way with feathers and wings while explaining how flight technically works suggesting it's no miracle at all.

This makes it no less of a miracle to me. 

Do we risk loosing our capacity for wonder and experiencing the miraculous with technology and social media's potential addictiveness, subtle and blatant competition, science attempting to explain everything not to mention the "busyness" consuming so many?  

I wonder. 

What gets your attention? Is it the latest trend or tweet? 
Are you drawn in by sports, food, music, nature, kids? 
Does anything really drawn you in? 
If so, how does it serve you?  And what is its function? 

Don't loose your sense of wonder.....
-Dawn, The Good News Muse,   16 Oct. 2014