Teacher. Student. Which Are You?

This morning I walked to the bird bath on one side of my yard and found a perfectly shaped small feather. I checked the water level then made my way, only a few steps, to the other side of the yard. Near my chair lay a perfectly shaped large feather.

I have found many feathers in these recent years but never two so alike, one large and one small.

As soon as I held them I heard:  Teacher - Student 

Learning and learned. Young. Old.

Yet which is the teacher and which the student?

Age nor education truly makes one a teacher.

The young have much to teach. For years the children, I've known have shared gems wiser than my writings and far beyond what might seem their years. They are nearer I sense to the great Truths of life in this world possibly because they are not so distant from the other world from which we all come. I am open always to their teachings.

In the morning's quiet, I ask: Am I as open to the adults whose opinions and beliefs are as opposite mine as the feathers were in my yard? They too offer me something of value, I sense, when I am open and receptive to their experience. And this is where I usually disconnect from those on the other side metaphorically of this Earth "yard." I find those on the other side don't really speak from their experience but instead tell me their beliefs rather than how they came to those beliefs and what their fears or concerns are.

I held the feathers and knew I am both teacher and student. It is not one or the other.

What about you?

I imagine the Shift to humankind realizing we are all teachers. 

We are all students in this Earth journey called Life. 

Dawn, The Good News Muse, 29 June 2015

dawn@imaginetheshift.com

The Power of Light

As I sat bathed in yesterday morning's sun, I wrote in my journal:

I am fed. I am fed. I am fed. 

Due to the trees and the covering over my porch this experience would be brief so I sat with my hand on my chest receiving Sun's loving rays and warmth. 

Upon opening my eyes, the most amazing dragonfly sat on my hand. 

"Hello," I exclaimed.

It turned its head. An eye looked at me and it flew. I closed my journal to go inside and retrieve my camera forgetting my phone was by me. I wasn't going anywhere. My guest returned and sat on my journal. It sat and sat and sat. 

Can you imagine my joy? I spoke to it of its beauty and my overwhelming gratitude for its paying me this visit. And we sat in silence in the Light.

This was perfect.

Two years ago I had a blue dragonfly experience in the midst of deciding whether to really try to hike the Grand Canyon again. That dragonfly would land on my toe when I sat outside in the middle of the day. It would stand head down every time and I knew it was saying I was to go down into the canyon.

I made it to the canyon's North Rim as planned and proceeded to have knee pain with the first step I took. I knew the dragonfly was part of this. I who have never had knee pain shuffled stepping side to side and rotating sides rather than hiking as one would do. Feeling as if I was the object of a cosmic joke, I railed at the Universe while shuffling all 14 miles disappointed and profoundly upset. 

We were in the bottom of the canyon for three days so Jerry wisely insisted I keep walking to prevent my being immobilized further. The next morning we crossed the Colorado River and hiked a loop which ended up coming back to the river.  On its banks we came to Native American ruins unexpectedly.

Still in pain, I stood at the remains of what were once rooms to a home and I sang. A song of honor and praise came from me and as it did I felt the pain as well as my body and soul's weariness drain from me into the Earth. Suddenly I knew the ancestors were honoring me because I was honoring them as well as Mother Earth. (In my adult life, I have not been one to sing out loud with ease even with only Jerry around in the canyon but I did. I felt compelled to.)

In my Nashville yard, I knew the dragonfly's message two years ago had been that I was to walk "down" into the canyon but once there I got things may feel "upside down" (as in not at all what I expect while hiking) but to keep my crown, the energy center at the top of my head, metaphorically down and open so I could stay connected to Earth's energy. Blue the color of that dragonfly is the color of the throat chakra or energy center which was perfect for the song I voiced in the canyon.

Yesterday the fluorescent green dragonfly and I sat together at times in silence only interrupted by my  sharing gratitude for its perfectly timed visit and praising its beauty.

After one period of silence I spoke aloud the two words that came to me: Magic. Merlin.

With those two words, the dragonfly left never to be seen again at least yesterday.

I do not remember lines from books, but I do recall what Merlin said in Depak Chopra's "Return of Merlin." 

"We are living a mystery. Hopefully we are not too busy and miss the vital clues." 

I know I'm living a Mystery. What about you? Divine guidance arrives for me through Nature in such simple yet beautiful ways when I am paying attention and moving mindfully, slowly through my day.

I got my copy of Ted Andrews "Animal Speaks" where I read dragonfly represents "The Power of Light." How perfect was this.

* The Power of Light as I soaked in Sun's Light.

* The Power we hold in our hands (where the dragonfly first lit). Our hands are wands of Light through which we can heal, touch, hold, and comfort or slap, hit, and withdraw rather than reaching out.

* The Power of Words (where the dragonfly lit next) to lift up, encourage and console or to diminish, stir fear and tear down individuals, groups or a nation. Our words are Light.

The Power of Light.

How profound is dragonflies gift in this time especially with the events of the last two weeks as people were killed in a church by a young man so separated from the Light. The response of Charleston community and much of the country has been one of embodying the Power of Light. President Obama's eulogy resonated with the Power of Light. And then with the Supreme Court's decision to honor those so in need of health care coverage as well as those desirous of equality when it comes to legally being able to marry the one they love. These rulings bring into effect the Power of Light.

For me personally the dragonflies presence tells me this trip I am suddenly taking is meant to be and is my heart's adventure since green is the color of the heart's energy center and something about France is connected to my heart. (Yes, I am spontaneously heading to France.) I discovered my connection to France in 2009 and have on some level been afraid to return to this country that opened my heart in such joy and pain.

"We are living a mystery. Hopefully we are not too busy and miss the vital clues." 

I wish for you an engagement with Mystery and guidance that feels right inside to you. I wish for you an inner awareness so you do not miss your journey's vital clues.

Imagine that Shift.

-Dawn, The Good News Muse, 29 June 2015

dawn@imaginetheshift.com

Spirit Speaks - On Looking Back and Fear

I procrastinate. My to-do list is never ending. I know "it" never all gets done at least in terms of dirty laundry, dishes and liter boxes. Yet the things on my list include stories noted but never written, piles made and never sorted and outdoor pieces bought but not sealed so they don't rust or quickly discolor.

Recently something finally moved me to undertake the later. I began sealing a table and wall hanging. Once I get started, I always wonder 'Why the wait?'  I was moving right along with this particular project and for some reason turned to find an unusual bug behind me. I greeted a black bug similar to a housefly but larger then realized it wasn't moving. I was ambivalent about picking it up. It reminded me of horse flies dodged while swimming as a kid. You only need be stung once to know how that hurts.

Yet greater than the fear of being stung was irritation. I was finally proceeding rather than procrastinating and didn't have time for a bug. I am prone to patience even with bugs including ones that are dead. I have bug jars throughout my home for escorting live ones outside. I was mesmerized with making Creepy Crawlers as a girl. And though I gave no thought to bugs during my 20's and 30's, I have returned to being mesmerized by them thanks to learning of beneficial bugs when I planted raised beds and developing a love of birds, many of whom depend on bugs for sustenance.

As one who values integrity and honoring life, I could not neglect this bug. I placed it in my palm and talked to it. I hoped its body still held Life's Light. I stepped a couple of feet to the nearby azaleas. There in the dirt was a wide, brown leaf, a perfect final resting place. I thanked it for coming to Earth and placed it on the leaf.

Then turning around to get back to work, my breath was taken by this large feather. I knew the Divine was acknowledging my having taken the time to honor the scorned yet beautiful flyish bug.

And as I held the feather I knew: "The bug represents things feared. If I choose I can hold in my palm the things I fear. Don't seal over them. Don't ignore them. Don't squash them. Don't neglect this opportunity."

I hold in my palm the things that frighten me.

What frightens me?

The vanishing of the big to the small from glaciers, elephants and lions to bees, butterflies, bats, and lady bugs in what many call the Sixth Extinction, the first that is manmade as far as we know.

What really frightens me?

That I will not fully listen and use my abilities to assist Earth, whatever my assistance might be.

What really, really frightens me?

That I will treat myself like many treat bugs. That I will squash and kill off who I am through ignoring and procrastinating listening to the small things in my life like learning to play the strumstick I've had for three years, not taking voice lessons nor fully learning French or returning to France. That I will continue to procrastinate tending the numerous stories tucked in those piles I need to sort and tucked within me.

The Divine arrives in my life in theses ways when I pay attention to the things in front of me. And therein lies another message because the bug and feather were not in front of me. They were both behind me. I am being told to...

Turn around. Look back. Tend what is behind me in the past. 

Resilience, reflection and personal courage are valued by many today, yet evidence suggests fear is highly medicated and looking back is avoided and ignored. Many believe fear is a weakness rather than normal and natural when stepping outside one's box, when expanding one's comfort zone by traveling new terrain without and within oneself. We are inundated with messages and ads not to mention upcoming political campaigns related to moving forward ie. not looking back.

Reflecting and listening to Life's chapters keeps one from getting stuck in the past contrary to what many fear.

I am grateful that allthough I procrastinate, Spirit never judges me but patiently provides messages through signs.

How does the Divine/Spirit/God/Direction arrive in your daily life? 
How do you listen? If not, what keeps you from paying attention? 
Do you reflect? 
How do you hold the things you fear? 
How do you relate to the past? 

An hour later as I finished my project I returned to where I placed the bug. The spot brought a smile to my face. The bug was gone. Whether a bird found it or the Light left within revived it, the bug was gone as I know my fears are when I consciously hold and reflect on them and when I make time to practice the things that call to me like the feather and the bug.

It is time to turn around and tend.

Dawn, The Good News Muse, 15 June 2015

dawn@imaginetheshift.com

If you enjoyed this, this might also like "The Earth is Magic" or "Fly, Shoot, Be."

The Invisible World

Do you ever experience the invisible world surrounding you? 

The raised shades caught my attention as soon as I walked into my home. Part of our ritual when leaving for a few days involves pulling the shades down and ensuring the door to the room is slightly open. The shades were up and the door was tightly closed.

I asked Jerry if he recalled not lowering the shades.  He not only distinctly remembering closing them but also knew where he sat in the room after having done so.

That's when I realized not only were the shades raised but each one, ten in all, was raised to the same level. This was definitely unlike us. We are not perfectionists.

We puzzled aloud wondering if a neighbor had a key to our home or knew of a secret entry of which we aren't aware.

Suddenly I realized I knew our visitor. The shades were meticulously raised just as I suspected the man who lived here for eighteen years would have done. Mr. Stewart had been to visit. Of this I was certain.  Mr. Stewart was the man who designed and built the dear house in which I live. I have often wished for his return. I wondered if his birthday was near.

Thank to the internet I found Mr. Stewart's obituary. I look at the area obituaries just about every day. One of those days in 2006, my breath was taken by his death notice. Mr. Stewart died the day after Christmas. My breath was taken similarly this day as I scanned the funeral home piece that was still accessible. His birthday was May 12. We came home to precisely raised shades on May 15.

We sat in our sunroom that day certain Mr. Stewart had been there. Just in case he was still around I welcomed him and shared my deep regret in not seeing him after he moved to Murfreesboro. And I joyfully thanked him for the beauty he imparted to this place.

Clarice and Jimmy Stewart were people of love and joy. I work in the yard and feel the love they imparted in the plants and the trees and the love they received. I walk through the house that was once theirs and I feel them. I experience them in the tin kitchen cabinet doors etched with tulips and hearts. I see them in the note taped inside one of those doors. Their handwriting shows the Fahrenheit temperature translated according to the wind chill.

A portion of the Stewart's garden I now tend.

Then I read the remainder of the obituary.

Mr. Stewart had three adult sons. Each died prior to him. I knew he lost two sons but something about reading this impacted me in a way it had not affected the me from even ten years ago when we first met.

How did he go on after outliving three adult children?

As religious people, I suspect their faith sustained them yet intuitively I knew other sources of comfort for Mr. Stewart. The Stewarts lived close to the Earth. Neighbors talk of how they were in the gardens daily planting, digging and clearing. Mr. Stewart also worked with wood. As he walked us through the house the day we met he showed me figurines he had carved. They were on shelves in the very room surrounded by windows.

A Hopi stone carver once told me of the reciprocity between the stone and himself. As he honored the stone and gave it his energy, it in turn shared its energy with him.

The great stone that is Earth offers its energy to us. When I garden consciously in love and "want to" rather than duty and "have to" I feel the sharing. My mood when heavy or sad is always lifted. My heart feels joy.  I'm fairly certain something similar happened for Mr. Stewart as he worked with wood and dirt.

My sunroom shades now remind me to open my inner shades and remember...

An invisible world surrounds us. 

It's in the stars, the Earth and Spirit. 
It offers itself to comfort, bring joy and love. 
An invisible world surrounds us.

I am open to it. Are you? 

-Dawn, The Good News Muse, 9 June 2015 

dawn@imaginetheshift.com