​I’ve had another recent memory of my childhood—this time from grade one.

In our little two-room school-house i remember that i had to sit in the front room for grade because i was one of the few, if not the only one who wore glasses.  It seemed the teachers always made those of use who wore glasses, to sit at the front.
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This particular day, we all were colouring and Mrs. D., our teacher, was standing at the front of the class reading from a storybook.  As she was reading, i was taken by and distracted by my classmate Billy who also colouring (he sat next to me at the front too)…

i thought what he was colouring, was beautiful.  And, so i simply leaned over to tell him saying something like, “that’s really pretty Billy—i like it’.

Right at the moment i had said that… Mrs. D., clouted me right over the head with the hardcover book she was reading from, shouting, 

“Don’t interrupt me when i’m reading to the class!’
“Ouch—that hurt”, i said to myself…

​I sometimes wonder if that’s perhaps why i deal with chronic neck + back pain to this day?

​I had a memory pop up recently—and that remembering can also be triggered from seeing someone wearing very thick ‘coke bottle’ lensed eye glasses. 

My recollection is from my early elementary school days, where i was probably in grade 5 or 6… The principal in that school was named Mr. P_____, who was a very tall well-dressed middle-aged white man with dark hair.  Mr. P_____ took his job as school principal very seriously.  I don’t remember seeing him smile much.  His dark-coloured rimmed glasses were definitely a part of who he was.  He would often tilt his head back and peer over them, as they often slipped  down his nose—probably from the sheer thick-weight of them.

During that time—it was probably around 1970 or so…and, the strap (corporal punishment) was still being used in schools until it was banned in about 1973.  And, Mr. P_____ seemed to like using the strap as a disciplinary action in our little school.  It certainly worked for him.

When some poor sod got into trouble and was sent to the principal’s office, fear would reign—as one would often get a strapping as a result.  I myself came very close to receiving the strap once—though managed to get out of it, some how, i have no idea how…

So, when a student was slated to receive the strap, what Mr. P_____ would do every time, was… He would go to every classroom one by one, open the door (he never knocked), rudely interrupt barging into the room, look over his thick black glasses and state very sternly: “I’m leaving the door open…” 

We soon learned what that meant…
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He would then move on to the next room and do the same.  When he was done with each room, he would then go back to his office where the student was and, leave his office door open as well.  He would then proceed to strap that poor student.  

The whole school would go into a disturbed hush…

Needless to say, we as a student body were absolutely terrified…where we all ‘felt’ that strap together, ‘as one—while we were forced to listen to the cries streaming down the hall from his office.  

We were always relieved and breathed a big collective breath when it was finally over with.
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Until, the next time.

I love that the above quote by Alice Walker showed up when it did the other day = there are never any accidents eh?

This last week i was blessed to hang with a dear friend...  We had some good time to connect and catch up with one another's work, our art and spirit path...

It's always good to be with an ally... a sister who shares their authenticity... to truly understand some of the 'same stuff' we deal with as beauty-makers on a daily basis... it helps to know that we're not alone keeping on... keeping on the path as we are continually called...

We talked about 'wounds' and particularly... how our core wounds, can continue to inform our lives... and, how they can run silently in the background like some insidious screwed up program... broken and sickly... barely going though still operating...  I sometimes call it the 'default' that kicks in or triggers you when you least expect it... playing with + hampering our self-worth...

And....... it's interesting how stuff can align too... It's like when we bring awareness to something, deeper awareness and healing comes right in the moment... After our lovely time together that afternoon with new awareness shared between friends... back home,  while i was mindlessly scrolling through my photos, i stumbled on an old portrait of me someone had sketched in pencil.... and, there it was... that old sketch - not very big... very simple, looking back at my soul...

I was drawn to journey within this drawing which took me back to the time in my life when it was drawn - in my early 20s...  A time when i was searching for meaning in my own life... of autonomy and independence... finally getting out on my own to find my own way.  Though at the same time, i was a walking zombie of confuzzed wounded-ness - not knowing who the heck i was...

I journeyed back even further to re-visit some of those places ... woundings in this life-time and even further back to a past-life awareness that had come up for big healing along my path years previous... I know now that those 'agreements' that i made as a child are not even my own agreements...they're someone else's - who didn't know themselves either... who had been wounded too... who were just living their life the best they knew how... i had forgiven that remnant long ago... 

It made me realize just how much 'all of that' narrative that was mindlessly served up to me within daily, traumas big + small - i sucked up like a sponge, like all children do... and those old stories stayed 'there' deep within my sensitive being... as set-programs continuing to run on default from that moment forward... 

Revisiting this place brought deeper awareness as, i also stumbled on the above quote by the wonderful + wise Alice Walker... where profound healing or how i like to call it... 'another layer of the onion has been peeled away' yet again... i have let a lot of crap go... and the 'story' that goes along with it... that is no longer serving me... it's all gone back to the Mother that she lovingly composting + transforming back into 'sami' light... 

"Healing begins where the wound was made."
--Alice Walker

I give thanks and gratitude to my sister-friend for her wisdom + caring ear the other day and my friend who sketched that lovely portrait of me... and i know why i kept it... and, i so wish i could remember her name - which has left me... (when it comes, i'll certainly give her the credit she is due here)... i love this sketch and how it was rendered = ie., no chair!...

I still remember clearly the afternoon she drew it... and gifted it to me later that day 40 years ago - somehow she was guided... she knew she had captured something healing for me... (her original is to the left) and...

The other 'version' i posted at the top of this page, i had some fun artistically 'reclaiming + retrieving' back yet again another beautiful piece of my soul that has been held within the love + the safety of our Mother's arms all this time.... perhaps a 'new self-portrait of the being of light i truly am.... 

Thank you my dear friends... i love you...
brightest, weaver x (((o)))

Sharing some thoughts that arose from being a part of a group that explores the power of 'vibration' and 'sound' together...

This morning, i was quite stunned, moved + honoured (with a group of dear souls) to witness through sound, just how much heaviness good people are carrying so deep within them...

The sounding exercise offered was a uncomfortable one for most of us... we were asked to simply 'sound' and go with it...

What i particularly found interesting was that, no one expressed their 'sounding' of joy or love of life... though chose or were moved to sound a wide range of emotions of deep sorrow, anger, frustration and hurt - even chaos and indifference... The soundings were definitely a strong expression and perhaps a release on many levels... we all found it a powerful time together - almost un-nerving perhaps..?

I couldn't help but wonder also, what i witnessed, was perhaps, just how much of that heaviness the overall collective of the world is carrying..... the world is very weary + so sore.... i know we're all feeling it on so many levels...

Perhaps this 'sounding' offered some healing to the world...? 

i feel there is hope... as part of my path + daily practice is to re-member the tools i have been taught + gifted.... that our blessed Earth Mother, Mother Gaia, Pachamama, the beautiful, living + breathing be-ing she is... is always here for us... despite all the heaviness she endures - she keeps on going strong...

I trust + embrace that the ratio of what's going right with our dear Mother outweighs that which is not right... she knows who she is and has endured for thousands of years + will continue to...

Our earth mother offers us a simple, yet powerful sacred gift... and, we have forgotten this sacred gift... She reminds us to re-member to simply let go of the heaviness, the darkness that keeps us bound... She lovingly receives it with love, transforms + composts it back into 'sami' light... She's good at taking our shit - our own heaviness... and, that is a good thing and, it's necessary for the world... i believe that is part of a balance + the sacred relationship or partnership with her, we have lost...

We can choose to feed her as she feeds us... to return to the ancient beautiful reciprocity of 'right relationship' as one with our earth mother - to connect again with the land(s) that hold + sustain us = to acknowledge + celebrate she is our Source, not a resource...

For, we wouldn't be here without her! ...
(i invite you to think about that for a moment)... x (((o)))

ps... i will write more about this 'heaviness' + how we can simply release it again soon... 

There's always time to say thank you... 
One way i offer my gratitude, especially for our beautiful earth mother, is to offer a 'flower despacho' - which is a gift of prayer in mandala form... I will take flowers + other found earth-bits (like leaves, sticks, pine-cones, etc) and mindfully 'blow' my prayers/intentions through the flowers + bits and place in a beautiful arrangement on the ground... and then, allow it/let it go to compost on + into the ground, so my prayers become part of/embodied with her...
An offering like this doesn't have to be elaborate = keep it simple + free!... x (((o)))

update:  I thought i had repaired that little tear i wrote about a few posts ago - when laughing wolf accidentally fell and was wounded.... and out of the blue one day, i discovered the tear had split even more... it had grown sooo long that dear laughing wolf now requires a complete re-skinning... she will never ever sound or look the same again...... a major 'death' of sorts... stuff is definitely shifting...

Ouch!... it all feels pretty strange that she is no longer 'playable' or sounding her beautiful resonant voice... soon, i will be removing her beautiful torn goat hide and have called + prayed for a new voice-hide to come so i can re-birth her...

A wonderful thing has happened during all this... spirit guided me to finally find and re-connect with John, the dear man who originally birthed laughing wolf - it was wonderful to re-connect with him again and he has taught me much about this sacred drum... thank you John with so much gratitude and appreciation... i am so very glad we are back in touch... he is freely sharing his knowledge with me to re-birth laughing wolf myself this time... 

I know deep in my heart that i am grieving and at the same time, very aware that i am in a deep place of transition of 'what's next?' = a new pacha... the tear actually originated from the place of the east - the place of my 'becoming' and new birth...

I also find it quite interesting that i am care-taking yet another sacred drum without her hide and no physical voice... (the other is windwalker)...

Recently, i was guided to ask a question of an elder grandmother...

"Is there a message from our blessed earth mother's 'deep heart'?...

Without hesitation, a deep teaching came through dear grandmother...

"The deep heart of the mother needs healing........."

"...What does mother's deep heart need?...

"...allow your self to experience the frequency of that call........... [pause]...

...allow your self to know...if you hold your hands in Gaia mudra - with the thumb and the tip of the index finger together and the other fingers stretched out straight.........."

"...Your body is the deep heart of the mother... the mind and every cell of your body, in every nucleus of every cell is a resonant frequency that absorbs the messages from the deep heart of mother earth..."

"...You are the deep heart... when you go into the forest... you are the deep heart when you ride your horse over a pasture... you are the deep heart of the mother when you're swimming in an ocean - not a chlorinated pool..."

"...You are the deep heart because you're 70-80% liquid... When you're in a powerful natural setting, you are receptive to the 'signature' and 'pulses' of 14 billion years of earth...and, that's the message from the deep heart...and my advocacy for you is to join us in a journey to the deep heart of the mother..."

"...She is we and we are she now........."

Thank you grandmother for this deep teaching... with so much gratitude...

Perhaps having the responsibility of two very special sacred drums in my care at the moment, is teaching me a 'whole' new way of 'listening'... a way of 'wholeness'... 'be-ingness' and 'open-ness'... perhaps my dear drum - these two dear sacred drums are 'drumming me' for now...

...and that's okay - for now...

I continue to await for 'what's next' knowing deep within my own 'knower and the known' that, all that matters is the present moment of right now...

Bright blessings to you all with deep love and hoards of light - i look forward to being in sacred circle with you soon.... weaver x (((o)))

PS... another update... what's interesting is that my teacher's drum broke almost the same way two weeks prior to my drum breaking... of which i can't help knowing that perhaps this relationship of 'teacher/student' has come to a much-needed close...

"The wound is the place where the light enters you..." -Rumi
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there are no accidents! x (((o)))

​I was sent home with mesa homework yet again from the 7th fire (animistic energy training) a number of months ago… and, an interesting practice of feeding a swirling wild feminine energy that was put into my mesa called a 
huaca....

My life this past year has been like a huaca, a 'pachacuti' - a turning over.... and has been literally turned upside down…  My relationship of almost eight years rapidly dissolved right before my eyes… it went in a direction that i couldn't seem to steer in any way… During most of those years, i’ve tried my best to do what some might call, “make the best of it” and be the best person i can be…

I strive to grow as any human can… with courage to honour my self and my spiritual path and my calling… questing for answers that continually nag at me… and, can’t ignore the stirrings that rise within me… i have to listen to my gut… and somehow honour and find my own true way… how can i not listen to my inner being and be who i truly am?

Many times i questioned why is it, that it had to be sooo hard to share that with someone who is not on the same path?…  i never understood why i was continually judged for being on my own path?  I often felt like i was the one giving support in many ways… I gave up long ago offering invitations to this person dear to me, to share a path that has helped me so much in my growth... and now, to have come to a place of realization that i must honour this person's own path…  I have to admit that i sometimes get jealous that other partnerships can share a similar path together… but i guess that this is not to happen for me, and i do my best to honour and allow that…

And… so… i continue to respect and practice my spiritual (shamanic) path as best as i can… and i exercise my daily homework… this one day, i open my mesa, the mirror of my becoming of my healed state… and oh, how i yearn for that healed state… especially now… during this emotional roller-coaster pacha of time… and so… through my beloved and caring stones (khuyas),  i consciously feed and care for them within the swirling hurricane that is presently going on in my life…

This is not an easy path of late… it seems no matter what i say or do… i'm not heard or seen in the way i have truly intended… when i feel i have intended in a most loving way that i can… I question often where all the rage and disdain hurling towards me comes from?... What the heck happened to the communication - where and how did it all break down?... it can be crazy-making to say the least… I keep ducking the relentless sticks and stones and continual verbal and energetic abuse...

As i sit in mindful contemplation with my altar of beloved… i am unexpectedly and immediately journeyed way back to a time of my childhood… to an age when i was about 11 or 12… i’m smack-back at summer camp on Vancouver Island at good ol' Camp Moorecroft… a wonderous place full of fond, fond memories… a place that offered me respite from the shouting-times of my childhood... it’s evening and everyone is at campfire time inside the big meeting hall… the fire is roaring in the stone fireplace and there is a girl, a little younger than me, sitting hesitantly on the edge of the front stage with her head down, looking at the floor…

This particular campfire night, small groups and individuals are sharing skits, stories and songs with the whole group… i have already shared my contribution… and there sits this little girl on the stage… in great fear… she wants to share but keeps fleeing the stage because of being so shy and afraid… the whole group keeps cheering her back to the stage as she repeatedly attempts to go back to her seat, giving up…

After numerous times of her back and forth dance… i am compelled to go up and and just sit beside her to lend some support to offer her sharing… and as i sit there beside her and the room goes quiet... she finally musters up the courage to share and after, everyone is on their feet cheering and applauding her… she is so thrilled and oh, so proud…

The next day… the camp nurse came up to me to say that what i did to support that girl was one of the most loving things she had ever seen a kid do and then thanked and congratulated me for it…

I'm now transported right back to the present moment with my mesa and the 13 churning loving khuyas embracing me with their light as they always do… and an overwhelming realization comes over me as to maybe why... one reason (of many), that being part of and in this relationship for so many years… was maybe... perhaps... that i was to lovingly “hold space” for her, someone else yet once again... to support them and hold space... to allow them to find their way to what they love and do… and she did get to do what she loves for her own path... big-time!... and... i am honoured to have been a part of supporting her path...

And so... an irony... a life-time dream project for my partner finally did come to a completion for her... it was created and manifested... and arrived to where we were living, a finished product the very same day that we, as a couple separated and parted ways.......... wow.....

​I give many thanks and appreciation for my dear mesa—my blessed altar that shows and teaches me about my becoming.... to spirit... for the teachings and learnings received...

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

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...