Lately... i've been too busy again...  and so what else is new eh?...

Last Saturday i was attempting to sleep in a tad... to get caught up on some much-needed rest... and while i was lying about in and out of consciousness with the sheets pulled up over my head... i became aware that i could hear the cry of a bird outside... and it seemed to sound like the cry of flicker... (a woodpecker)...

This was no simple cry... or call... and as i lay there listening... the flicker kept calling and crying over and over and over... after listening to this for about 10 minutes or so... i finally dragged myself out of bed to go have a look to see what was going on...

When i got to the window and looked out... there he or she was... about 20 feet away in the yard, perched precariously on the top of a fir tree... still wailing away... it seemed he or she was yakking at me for some reason... i looked around to see if it was upset for some other reason... but there seemed to be no reason... the flicker just kept on crying and crying...

I love flickers and have a fond connection to them.... when i'm out walking in the forest... i love it when i sometimes hear the flickers or woodpeckers peck on an old, broken dead tree... it fascinates me how their fast drumming can radiate and echo for a long time... In the medicine/spiritual way as a totem... one aspect of the flicker is known to be "the drummer"... so, i can certainly relate to the flicker because i'm a drummer too... sometimes it seems that flickers will show up in my life to tell or show me something... usually when i least expect it...

Like one time a couple of years ago... when i was honoured to become the caretaker of a very special drum... a 27 inch Kilaut frame drum that was built for me by a master drum-builder from the eastern United States.... for some reason i'm not sure why i became very called to this particular drum... when i was first becoming acquainted with this drum, i was dealing with many feelings about feeling worthy to be a carrier of this drum... maybe i was also feeling overwhelmed with the responsibility of caring for this drum... as this special drum held much power and healing in some way... that was for sure... i can't tell you how i felt when that drum first "played" me...

Well... one day as i was going for a walk with my dog and my partner during that time... i was expressing some of those feelings to her... and as i had just finished expressing my thoughts of unworthiness and doubt... we suddenly heard a loud screech response high above us... as we turned back to look where this scream had come.... there, sitting on the tip of the tallest tree in the parking lot was a flicker... confidently swaying back and forth... staring at us... i swear almost laughing at me.... my partner said to me with a smirk... "well, carol don't you think that's your answer?"...

So... what was the message this time...? i'm not sure... as i went out on the porch to get a better look... i sat down on the chair to witness this event with even more curiousity... the flicker took flight and started to fly towards me in a wide circle and made it's way back to the same tree... it perched again and then did this flying dance a couple times more... and while he/she was flying, made this interesting warbling sound... when she/he got back to the tree and landed... continued to cry and call as usual...

I also noticed that off to the right, a little further away... were two more flickers... silently perched near each other on the tops of trees as well... like they were holding space or being a witness to the one crying and continuing to call... eventually, the flicker finally stopped crying and suddenly flew away... in the silence, i continued to sit in the chair and wonder... and also felt honoured by my being witness to a wonder of nature... was this event just a coincidence or really meant for me?

I'm still not really sure... maybe it was yet another message or an affirmation for me to know that i truly am worthy... that i am a human being on this vast earth with worth... like all human beings... maybe it was a reflection of how i've been feeling these past few months... a reflection of my own crying inside of all that i've lost and grieved... maybe i just didn't get the message at all...? Maybe it'll come to me another time? Maybe never....

or... maybe it was a message for me just get my butt out of bed and get on with it...

maybe?

weaver x (((o)))

poem...

quickening (power song)

to gather
energy
at a moment’s notice

hovering
within
the mother’s arms

gently
rocking
side to side

cradled

light
sound
envelopes my
whole being

humming
humming

letting go
straight to the heart

as far as one
can go

catching
the breath
of spirit

to allow
and let go

with total trust
and knowingness
as i fall
willingly

i am
nurtured
and loved within
the ever present
great mother

she is
i am

one in the all
together
flying in
completeness

and just knowing

joy is
the song

as
i am
the singer
and the song

i soar!


​
-- © weaver x (((o)))


Note... the spirit encounter that sparked this poem, view this post >>

A number of years ago while spending the weekend on wonderful Bowen Island, i had a very interesting encounter... i met my estrella...

A friend of mine and i were just arriving at the bed and breakfast where we were going to spend the next couple of days for some much-needed time off. After we parked the car on the side of the road, we started to unpack the car of our belongings. My friend was already heading up the steep driveway to the B and B with a load of stuff while i was still organizing a load for myself at the back of the car.

I still had my head in the hatch of the car gathering my stuff when I heard a strange buzzing sound in the bushes at the side of the road. I couldn’t make out the sound but it seemed to be getting louder the more i focused on it... I looked over to where the sound seemed to be coming from but couldn’t see anything... and so.. I stepped into the brush ever so slightly and then saw something just above the shadowed bushes rocking back and forth... and it was humming and buzzing while it rocked... i couldn’t make out what it was but the sound kept getting louder and louder... and then i wondered if it was a hummingbird.......

When... i realized what is was... all of a sudden, it shot straight up into the sky... it was a hummingbird! i watched as it flew up and up as far as i could see... and then lost track of it, it disappeared... i kept looking for it standing there with my arms full of stuff, wondering where it went... i kept looking for it for quite some time... and nothing... i gave up and went back to unpacking the car...

As i turned back to the car, suddenly the hummer was flying back down, dive-bombing me... i quickly ducked as i could feel the wind brush the top of my head as he/she grazed over me and flew off...

Wow... i couldn’t help but think all that was a tad personal... and i then wrote a poem about it... see the poem "quickening"... (a power song)...

...weaver x (((o)))
​

Note... an 'estrella' is a Spanish word for 'star'... a spirit call, sacred representative or physical manifestation of a mountain apukuna spirit(s)... a guiding spirit or the finding of one's luck... the estrella can also be the way to communicate to the apu mountain spirit...

When I was around say, the age of 10 or 11, my mom asked me, (or my brother and sister) as she often did, to run over to the barn to get some milk out of the dairy. So, off I went with a blue plastic jug in-hand and headed down our short drive-way towards the barn when...

Almost half way, I heard something rustling in the tall grass off to my right, just past the gas tanks. I stopped to check it out and about four feet in, was one of our tabby barn cats pawing at something tentatively on the ground in front of him/her. Cautiously, I stepped into the deep grass to find out what was really going on.

I saw that a tiny, little gray mouse was standing upright on it’s hind legs with his dukes up – swinging back at the cat who was nervously poking back.

I couldn't believe what I was actually seeing and how I was now, a spectator to what seemed an implausible bout.

At one point, I'm sure that I saw the mouse make contact with the cat's nose! I stood there shaking my head in disbelief. I thought I could also hear the mouse chanting, "Put ‘em up! Put ‘em up... Just try it... Just try it!"

Still clutching the milk jug (now-squashed) under my arm, to not disturb the event, I carefully squatted down cross-legged and watched in awe for quite some time – mesmerized with the silent, slow-mo match. I cheered the little gray guy on.

I was astounded as to how persistent both the cat and mouse were. That gutsy mouse was just not going to back down, no matter what, nor the cat – a definite stand-off. And still, no sound from either...

I couldn’t help it… I eventually broke the match up by shooing the tabby away... thinking I was ultimately rescuing the incredibly brave mouse... though, at the same time I also wondered if I was really redeeming the wimpy cat. I also knew I had to get back with the milk.

When I returned with the requested jug, my annoyed mom sighed, asking me why it took me so damn long to get back. I replied, “I don’t know.”

I thought about what I had witnessed that day for quite some time after that and sometimes still do. If I hadn’t broken up the match, who would have eventually won? Maybe there’s more to mice than we really know? Maybe that’s how the idea for the classic Disney cartoon "Mighty Mouse" may have come from?

I think what I really learned from that day is, that it really doesn't matter how big or small you are or how insignificant you might “think” you are – all that matters is how you “feel and know" who you are.

Truly, it was a moment that a tiny little mouse mightily roared – silently… and I got to see it, not hear it!

Written by carol weaver © 2005

There are times I revisit moments of my childhood… my growing up on a potato + dairy farm just south of Vancouver… out on the mud flats of East Delta - in the Boundary Bay area…

I spent much time alone and by myself during those “grow-up” years… being a very shy and introverted kid, it was mostly to escape the 'dissonant episodes' in the household where I grew up… 

Time and again, I would flee those intense moments… And so… off I would go… in a ten minute walk or less… out to the back fields to just, be “away” from it all…

It was there in the wide, open breath of fresh air, I would find solace and some peace… and a different quiet… sounds that didn’t threaten, though embraced and held me… I looked forward to the joys of encountering nature from the spaces of flat fields and the domed, white-clouded blue sky…

Often I would take my kite or many kites, and put them all up in the wind, one at a time, and then tie them to the sharp barbed-wired fence or stake them out into the soft, rich earth … I'd lay right down, flat on my back between the angled strings… watching the coloured diamonds and their long tails dancing for hours on end… and if they would fall for whatever reason, I’d run and retrieve them…setting them up, a-flight once again…

​It wasn’t until my later years that, remembering all that “looking up”… that I had come to know the cloud people and their soft ways so well…I guess that was their “way”…’Cause I still know “them” to this day….  During the winters, with a hockey stick and puck, i'd skate forever on the frozen flooded fields...

Sometimes I would build a little fire and invent my own ceremony for whatever reason or not… dreaming up little celebrations that of course, needed celebrating… to sing my own songs to the unending sky, and, dance self-consciously knowing that i wasn't really alone... or incessantly stare at the sparkling flames, burning down quickly to eventual small glowing embers... until they would all die in a sudden extinguished puff of smoke… only… for me to start it all over again…to be a witness to the life-process of flame all over again… I loved being mesmerized by the fire’s tale and it's inviting warmth… how it cleared + fed me…over and over… and it was never the same story…

In the dark and rainy days of late Fall/winter, I would still venture out to my land of respite… I'd find myself tracking the giant, dignified snowy owls that would come from far away places… They’d put up camp on the barbed-wired fence posts… and wait open-eyed-still for the unknowingly next meal scurrying or flying by…

On my belly, like a World War II soldier without a weapon… I would creep…slowly… silent... invisible…and, track them... hoping, with a bit of luck, to get even closer for a glimpse of their kingly state… Though, never could I get any closer... as often as not with a snap 360-degree turn, the owl would see me… then swiftly launch a silent departure…fly low, a vast spreaded wing-span and glide over to the next fence post or flooded field… Once again, to sit in a perch of stillness, tolerant of the relentless stinging rain… teasingly wait for me… like a game to perhaps break their boredom... 

I swear I could hear their chucklings at their next expected quest by me… Eventually frustrated… I’d stand straight up and stagger over to where one had just been… only to find their tightly-woven pellets of last lunches and suppers strewn on the ground at the foot of the fence post… I’d sit down cross-legged, and carefully, like a scientist, tear open each small, greyish package apart… revealing their regurgitated matted fur-bundle of tiny bones, feathers, fur and hair of field mice and small birds…

I don’t think I ever got close enough to actually see one of those magnificent birds eye-to-eye… 

And so… I have much gratitude and thank sweet Spirit for the back field moments of my childhood - the gifts received in that place with sweet mount Baker holding my back… I thank the dear Goddess for the land and the beings (seen + unseen) that lived there that truly held me, who were my closest friends... I also give thanks for my family, who pushed me to the back fields, my home of refuge and respite, the places of my other Mother… my blessed Earth Mother… the beautiful land... as she fed me… she taught me… she showed me… and she held me… and she still does… she taught me to 'see' in ways I never thought possible...

brightest blessings... weaver x (((o)))

below, a beautiful video of the snowy owls of Boundary Bay - near where i grew up...

This powerful myth/story really connects me with my true essence as woman and my life-path as lover of our sweet earth-mother... including my pacha-journey coming into sage-time....... my sisters and 'i am'.... wolf woman, la loba... the magic + power of breath .... shape-shifting our own becoming into be-ing........

This beautiful story reminds me that we, as women can choose within any present moment to step into our own inner strength to create and dream our dreams into being... i love how the myth shares about "presence"... and by being in the present moment we have the power to "choose life".... enjoy!   weaver x (((o)))
​

 La Loba sings the bones...
or also known as... La Loba Singing Over the Bones...

There is an old woman who lives in a hidden place that everyone knows in their souls but few have ever seen. She calls herself by many names.

In this desert she is called La Loba. The Wolf Woman. The sole work of La Loba is the collecting of bones. She collects and preserves especially that which is in danger of being lost to the world. Her specialty is wolves.

She sifts through the mountains and riverbeds looking for wolf bones, and when she has assembled an entire skeleton and the creature is laid out before her, she sits by the fire and thinks about what song she will sing. And when she is sure, she stands over the creature, raises her arms over it, and sings out.

That is when the rib bones and leg bones begin to flesh out and the creature becomes furred. La Loba sings some more, and more of the creature comes into being; its tail curls upward, shaggy and strong.

​And La Loba sings more and the wolf creature begins to breathe.

And still La Loba sings so deeply that the floor of the desert shakes, and as she sings, the wolf opens its eyes, leaps up, and runs away down the canyon.

Somewhere in its running, whether by the speed of its running, or by splashing its way into a river, or by way of a ray of sunlight or moonlight hitting it right in the side, the wolf is suddenly transformed into a laughing woman who runs free toward the horizon.

So remember, if you wander the desert, and it is near sundown, and you are perhaps a little bit lost, and certainly tired, that you are lucky, for La Loba, the wolf woman may take a liking to you and show you something—something of the soul.

• Excerpt from the classic book, Women Who Run with the Wolves
by Clarissa Pinkola Estes

Video below... a beautiful short animation about La Loba, the Wolf Woman...Singing Over the Bones...

A story about the Healing Sacred Drum...The following creation myth from the Swedish part of Lapland shows how the caring heart pulses at the center of all existence...
​
I truly cherish this beautiful story of the blessed reindeer myth and can't help but believe it is possibly one way of how pachamama, our earth mother and the sacred healing drum came to be known as a sacred partnership for one another...

"The sacred reindeer drum" is very old... ancient... a heart-teaching as a gift given to all of us that we can journey deep within to our earth mother's core to be one with her heartbeat to find peace, healing and oneness with all... it is my hope that you enjoy this story as much as i have...
brightest blessings, weaver (((o)))

A Lapp Creation Story...

Once, while walking in solitude by the eternal waters, the creator, Jubmel, found the peace shrieks of hated, and evil chants invaded the calm of the eternal void.
Disturbed, Jubmel decided to create a new world, a universe so peaceful and harmonious that love and compassion would reign and the evil spirits would flee.

He wanted the beautiful body of his favorite creature, a gentle reindeer doe, to be the matter from which the new world would be shaped, and he wanted her loving heart to inform the new creation.

So he called the lovely vaja, the reindeer doe, from Passevaari, the holy mountain upon which she grazed. As the radiant reindeer came running, her golden hooves sparkled like shafts of sunlight, delighting the creator's heart.

Turning to the gentle vaja, and looking into her tender eyes, Jubmel said: "You my little vaja, have infinite sadness in your eyes: and from your body I will shape the world to set my Savio-aimo (the home of holiness) apart from the nether regions."

So the creator took a tiny bone from the body of the reindeer doe and built a bridge that spanned the abyss between the light world and the nether regions.

The innermost structure of the new earth was fashioned from the vaja's bones and became the rocks and boulders and the peaks and mountain ridges.

Her flesh became the fertile soil, and her blood and veins the flowing rivers. From her hair the mysterious forests were created. Her skull became the sky, which shields the earth from the blazing brightness of the holy heavens.

The reindeer's deep, sad eyes became the morning and evening stars to guide the songmakers, the dreamers and the parted lovers and to give them hope.

Finally, Jubmel hid the vaja's still-beating heart in the centermost depths of the earth to remind the lost wanderer, the lonely mountaineer, and all those in sorrow, that help would always be there.
The vaja's heart would be the heartbeat for the earth, so that when peace and love reigned the reindeer doe's heart would beat with joy. But if hatred and greed disrupted the earth's harmony, her heart would convulse in pain and tremors would shake the earth from top to bottom.

The beauty of the new earth was abundant. Sweet milk - the holy milk of the vaja - flowed forth from the rivers. The tree trunks were filled with marrow, and cheese-fruit and meat-fruit hung from the branches of the birch and the firs.

Jubmel asked the sun to shine upon this wondrous creation, and the splendid world created from the body of the gentle reindeer doe was so warm and loving that the evil spirits would not approach it.

Delighted with the new world, Jubmel wanted to share his joy, so he decided to create beings of his own kind to rejoice on the earth. From a small, nameless substance, Jubmel shaped two men to be children of the earth and asked his son, Beijve, the sun god, to warm the earth and guard and love it.
​
In turn, Beijve asked the new beings to care for the earth and its gifts - the fleet-footed reindeer, the fruit-bearing trees, and all its wonderful treasures. The only commandment Jubmel gave them was not to hate.

At first the brothers loved each other and dwelt upon the earth in peace. They sang with joy and gratitude while, deep in the earth, the reindeer doe's heart beat with love. Hearing the earthÕs glad music, Jubmel and Beijve smiled with holy joy.

Jubmel had another son, Mano, who, after he rebelled against his father, had been cast out from Savio-aimo, the heavenly realm. When Mano saw the two beings living so peacefully, he wanted to make trouble.

So, he whispered wicked words to one of the earth-brothers as was sleeping. From that moment on, this brother, Attjis, became restless and left home. The other brother, Njavvis, grieved at this loss. But he was comforted when he listened to the holy vaja's heartbeats deep in the earth.

Filled with compassion for the abandoned Njavvis, the sun god, Beijve, shed a great tear. From this loving, tender tear of compassion and the sun god's gentle, joyous smile, Jubmel created the first woman to be a mate for Njavvis. From this couple, a race of happy, sun-bright people - the Samis - would be born.

The first woman's eyes were the color of Jubmel's beloved and shyest flower, the sky-blue gentian, and held the mystery of love and life and hope. Her forehead was pure, high, and free. Her voice was sweet and as musical as the songbird, and her name was Njavvis-ene. Then Njavvis thanked Jubmel for creating such a wondrous woman.

But as soon as Attjis heard her voice and saw his brother's beautiful soul mate, he craved her. Envy and bitterness over-whelmed Attjis, and he ceased listening to the guiding, loving heatbeats of the reindeer doe in the center of the earth.

Then the evil Mano called forth his own daughter with black magic and chants and gave her to the envious Attjis as a mate. From then on, the envious Attjis was never satisfied with what he received, and he demanded from his generous brother, Njavvis, more and more land which in his greed he abused.

Finally, Attjis became so possessed by evil spirits that he beat his brother to death with the head and antlers of a slain deer. In horror, Beijve withdrew the sun, and the reindeer doeÕs wounded heart throbbed so hard that the earth rocked violently and flung the wicked brother up to the moon.

Meanwhile, children had been born to both couples, engendering a race of human beings in which evil increased. The humans found no joy in the peace and plenty that the creator had given through the body of the reindeer doe, and they began to take all the good things from the earth without thanksgiving.

As a result of these cold-blooded acts, the heart of the creator's vaja, buried in earth's center, trembled with terror at so much wickedness, so that the upper earth quaked and many people fell into the chasms. Jubmel decided to reverse the world and to destroy this wicked race, and he turned the sea waters on the land so the greedy people would perish.

Seeing all the suffering, Njavvis-ene, now a goddess in the heavens called Beijen-neite, entreated her father, the sun god, to help the dying earth people. In turn, he pleaded with Jubmel, who helped the last two humans, a boy and a girl, to survive by placing them asleep on the holy mountain of Passevaari.

And Beijen-neite made the earth a beautiful place once more so the children would be greeted by birds, animals, and flowers when she awakened them with warm and loving kisses.

The heart of humankind, Jubmel thought, is strange, for it sneers at godly gifts in times of joy and plenty. So, to save this peculiar race from itself and to part the light from the darkness, the creator hid all the marvelous treasures of the earth - gold and silver, milk and cheese-fruit - deep in the mid-earth, near the heart of the holy vaja. But he relented and allowed some of the rich milk to remain on earth, hiding it in the udder of the female reindeer.

From then on, the new people, born later to the two remaining earth-children, had to wander to seek the gifts buried near the heart of the holy reindeer doe. They had to struggle to live from the earth, for the former riches had been hidden. In their sleep, they forgot how the world had been shaped form the body of the gentle reindeer doe. Nor did they know of the treasures hidden near her heart.
​
So Beijen-neite returned to the earth to be near them. Sometimes she allowed herself to be seen, and sometimes she came in the form of a reindeer. She taught them the ways of goodness and humility, and how to tame the wild deer and to make clothes and shelter from it.

Warmed by the loving care of the sun-mother, Beijen-neite, they became the Sami (Sameh) people who learned the tales of the hidden treasure from the songs of the shaman and who journey, searching for the peace and harmony that is safe-guarded by the heartbeat of the sacred reindeer doe.

To the beat of the magic drum, made of reindeer skin, the shamans still remind the people always to listen for the holy vaja's joyful heartbeats. For near her loving, throbbing heart, the treasures of creation are being saved for them.

• Excerpt from the beautiful book,
Creation's Heartbeat: Following the Reindeer Spirit
by Linda Schierse Leonard

if i leave this singing place... 
​
i will miss the drums of the flickers…
at this time of the morning glory who sing sturdy
despite brittle, scorched shrubbery amidst them
i too will leave this place as they lessen
their grip far sooner than autumn…
 
i linger with low mourning as to why
i cannot sing with them because i am
fixed numb with bewilderment…
complete bafflement way frozen…
 
i cry be-side my drummers of kin…
who have called me to restiveness day after day
since the time we have lived in this house
of fraudulent impression… split-community, no-pride.
 
why oh why…why please why…
did it have to happen that i... my own kith and kin
were battered with such potent hatred of
who we are… we, only different from them?

the strength i know now is i will sing again and again
with the gold drummers who fly with me...
​wherever i go...

by weaver x (((o))) © 2004