​Sometimes i forget to use the tools i’ve been given. And, it’s good to remember that i have access to them anytime.  Remembering can be a challenge!

​It’s been interesting of late… having both of my parents pass within 3 months of each other, (even though they lived 42 years apart), i didn’t realize the amount of grief i’ve been feeling + carrying for some time now—even before they passed over, that threshold to the light of who they truly are.

It hit me the other day, out-of-the-blue, i remembered this blessed gift of ceremony and contemplation that i’ve been given and it has truly helped, once more.  I feel much lighter, perhaps brighter…. I do know that grief never really goes away, and i find it’s another dear process of life that i’m learning to live with.

And, so i’m sharing this powerful process, a blessed opportunity to offer presence… stillness… inquiry… an easeful letting go… inviting the elements of cleansing salt + fire to offer support, deep relationship…

I share again with hopes that it can also help others.  I have held a grief bundle for a while now and work with it when i feel i need to.  (or remember to)…

This is a simple process... an old practice that can help honour our grief/sadness + release it through co-creation with the earth’s gifts of cleansing fire + salt through a easeful ceremony.

What you will need to gather...

• a cloth - doesn’t matter what colour, though often black is often used
• a white candle or two (matches to light)
• a small bowl of water
• some salt - about 1/4 cup (a natural salt like pink Himalayan is good)
• some small stones or one stone (from the earth that can represent your grief/sadness/fears)
• anything else that you wish to include that represents your grief/sadness, etc.

Assemble all your items + to prepare/create ceremony…
(can be offered inside or out)

• be in a quiet space and mindfully open + create a container of sacred space around you... whichever way works for you, as it’s important to ‘be’ in a safe space (ie., turn off phones, distractions, etc)
• light the candle(s), which opens the ceremony
• place the salt in the bowl of water + mix
• spend some time with each item you have chosen to represent your grief/sadness/fears and when you feel ready, using your breath with intention, blow your feeling-essence into the stone... letting them go to our Mother earth - who will hold those feelings safe within Her belly—through the stone
• sit within the peace of quiet for as long as you need... knowing that the salt water + flame will gently draw the grief/sadness/fear out of your temple
• when you feel complete, blow the candle(s) out - which completes the ceremony... and close your sacred space around you
• your can either wrap your bundle or place as an altar in a special sacred place in your home

You can choose to offer this grief ceremony as many times as you feel you need to.  And, when you feel ready, you can disperse the stones back to the earth by burying them, or by placing them in the ocean—which will also continue to clear that heaviness or darkness that no longer serves.

It’s an honour to share this simple, yet powerful process with you.  It is my hope it can help during this time or anytime you are in need… and, do feel free to share, if you wish.

with much love + light, 
weaver x (((💜)))

*some notes:  ‘dark and heavy energy’ (like grief/sadness, etc) is not negative, positive or bad energy.  It’s just simply ‘heavy and dark‘, and it can weigh us down.  This type of energy doesn’t serve and often, it’s not even ours to hold.  

See energy as either light or dark, and know the ‘dark’ can be released easily.  We don’t have to feel we have to hold onto it.  One of the many gifts our blessed earth Mother offers is, She can release that ‘dark’ energy on behalf, for us.  She transforms it, like compost, back into Light—which is who we truly are! 

*another note:  re washing or what to do with the stone/stones after…
It’s up to you what you choose to do with your stone(s).  Check in with them + simply ask.  Sometimes stones have done their work and may tell you they need dispersing or not.  They are the old, wise ones and the story-tellers of our blessed Mother, the land.  And, they have much to share with you—if you only ask.  Connect with all your senses somatically to hook in, ask and listen deeply.  Remember, we all connect in different ways… some see, some feel + sense, some hear, taste, smell, etc.. etc...
Hope that helps.
​
I welcome your thoughts and feedback…
​Did this process work for you?  Anything else?
with brightest blessings of much love,
wx (((💜)))

​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.
​
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…
​
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.
​
Until, the next time.

"Mother, Bear...
   invites me...
      into her darkly cave...
         where silence surrounds... the answers She gave..."

"Interesting..."
is a word you may hear me utter.  Usually when i can't explain something or, i've experienced or felt something profound through Spirit.

Recently i had a re-visit from Mother Bear... a Spirit Bear.

​It seems my life's journey holds quite a magical bent.  And, often feel like i don't know what i'm doing half the time—oh, i know that's a self-judgement, though i do "keep on keeping on"... staying on my path as best i can and, when i allow ‘magical stuff' can happen and will show up—usually when i least expect it.

Recently, i was chatting with a dear friend about my creative process and, how my own intuitional knowing doesn't always inform at the time i would prefer it.  Though, i’ve come to learn that my inner knowing + creative sourcing will often kick in much later, sometimes days or weeks later or, my knowing informs in a whole other route than expected.  I would never claim i'm psychic though, (far from it!).  Though, i know i'm definitely spirit-guided, and intuitive, with much gratitude.  I am so blessed with a heck of a lot of unseen help from the Spirit realm.  I’m one lucky bum.

"living breathing light
push kawsay holographic
i know i'm out there"  
—Haiku by weaver  

I adore the word, "kawsay" (pronounced cow-sigh), which comes from the beautiful Quechua Indigenous language meaning, "living breathing energy... life force, energy that animates the universe: it comes from the collective, from genetics and from spiritual energy... life, everything is energy; of the major organizing principles... energy that permeates all of Creation on various vibrational levels..." 

One potent teaching i received during my years of advanced earth-based training was to practice "pushing the kawsay".  This term also brings to mind the Scots Gaelic poetic phrase, "Òran Mór" which means, the 'Great Song' of the Universe... where, everything holds a song... it's own frequency and vibration.  Everything in the universe is singing, even rocks, trees—everything!

It’s interesting to note that sound-healer/musician Kailash Kokopelli believes that all dis-ease and unbalance in the body is ‘out of tune’ where, certain sounds and frequencies, through music/sound can help re-tune the body.  He shares the example; the dis-ease of cancer holds a certain resonance (or song) and if the sound-healer can match that same resonance/song though sound, the cancer or dis-ease can be eradicated… combusted.

Back in high school, I was known to visit the Principal's office way too often.  An art teacher i had, eventually realized that it was best to remove me completely from her classroom, in order for me to be able to connect with 'my muse' and get some actual work done—as i tended to be over-disruptive during class.  

Mrs. Plummer would assign an art project where everyone would begin creating except me.  I'd just sit there, staring about, not knowing what to do for the most of the class, goofing off.  It was like, i had to kick the assignment 'out there' to the art-goddess or whatever, and patiently wait for 'it', whatever 'it' was, to return back to me when 'it' was ready.  I couldn't force it—believe me, i had tried.

Often, Mrs. Plummer, frustrated with me, would set me up in an empty classroom, all alone with art materials and sure enough, i'd eventually create—the 'muse' would finally fall out of me and i create stuff i never even knew i could create = Was that me that did that?  I know now that i was perhaps, "pushing the kawsay".   I also learned that i needed quiet reflective time first, in order to connect with my own inner muse.

We're presently in the cycle of Lughnasadh  or Lúnasa from the Celtic realm of Scotland + Ireland... also known as Lammas in England and other parts of Europe.  A seasonal one-of-four annual fire festivals, marking the time of harvest before the Celtic New Year of Samhain arrives at the end of October.  On the wheel of life, we're also in the direction of the West, the time of the 'falling leaves' who teach us how to simply 'let go' with ease and grace.  A dear friend recently shared with me that the leaves have "worked for and created much...they give to protect Mother Earth—there is much to learn here..."

Lughnasadh marks the beginning cycle of the noticeable descent of the Sun into the darkness of winter.  From the connection between the Earth (female principle) and the Sun (male principle), the union of the Sky Father (Sun God) with the Earth Mother we celebrated at Bealtaine, emerge the fruits of the first harvest of the year.  Lughnasadh is a time of joy and celebration about the first fruits.  It is also a time of tension, because the dark days of winter are coming nearer, and most of the harvest has not been brought in and stored away quite yet.

So, during this turning of the wheel is also a place of 'going within'  and introspection as we move more and more, spiralling into that cave of darkness, as our dear earth Mother slowly goes to sleep, to deeply rest and regenerate during the cycle of Samhain/winter.

​Three and a half years ago, before we moved to Gabriola, i had a very strong, visceral dream about a huge mother bear that 'sniffed me out'.  I wrote about this powerful dream on my blog back in 2016 >> 

I know that this dream marked a shift for my partner and i, in finding a new home, where, now we live on beautiful Gabriola Island, a 20-minute ferry ride from Nanaimo,  BC.  We never dreamed of living here before that dream.

​Interesting...

​Living here has been nothing short of magical where, every day we both continue to pinch ourselves... so deeply aware of the amazing blessings we continue to receive—with many new close friends, a nurturing supportive community and holy wow, a stunning beautiful sacred land to live upon the ancient sacred unceded territory of the Snuneymuxw people of the Coast Salish.

​This past week, i was called (more than once), to go back to a special place, a good walk from our home, to visit a very large stone-being i had unexpectedly met on one of my walks, a couple of years ago. 

I seem to connect with big stone beings, as they often like to reveal their faces to me—why, i do not know?  I’m grateful the the gift.

I recall being guided off the main road to a trail i wasn't aware of.  There, was a sign that read, "public access".  So, cautiously, i climbed down the steep, rocky-rooted trail that led me to a high cliff above the ocean.  What a beautiful place i had stumbled on and what was cool was, i was all by myself and it just felt good!  I hold a fond memory of sitting in reverent silence for a long time on that sun-warmed boulder.  It was like i was being supported in some way.

I was moved to explore, hiked around, up and down the dry, wild terrain.  The place felt particularly special...inviting—covered in crunchy long grasses, stones, fallen branches, lichen, old gnarly arbutus, garry oak, maples, towering rock walls and honkin' huge boulders.  I was drawn to head over to one very grand stone, right at the edge of the cliff.  I asked permission to come close and was invited to connect with this immense being. 

I sat in still-reflection as i gratefully leaned my stiff back into the side of this grand warming rock that was probably 30-40 feet long and say,15 or more feet tall at her high point—one huge presence!   I made an offering of thanks for the blessed gift of just  'being' with this beautiful space of inquiry, adoring the feeling of being deeply backed (no pun intended).  I also sensed healing vibrations filling my body and weary soul.  I had such a wonder-full time with myself that afternoon, appreciating what was around me, which filled me with much rested thankfulness of being guided there.

Heading back up the rough trail to go home, i was nudged to turn around and look down where i had been.  Oh my, i was blown away by what my eyes saw.  I had been communing and connecting with one very large stone, shaped like a bear!

There she was, in all her majesty, revealing herself from profile perspective.  Such a megalith and oh, that shining face!  From every ounce of my being, perceiving that this was one big spirit, a bear.   I stood there for a long time, within utter awe.  I couldn't take my eyes off this being—as my heart safely opened.  I was drawn to take a photograph of her because she was so stunningly beautiful, especially the way the warm sun lit up her sleek kind face.   I'm grateful i still keep that photo of her.

Interestingly, the spirit of Bear sits in the West on the Great Song-Wheel of Life.  Bear represents introspection, reflection, slowing down, rest, respite, death and rebirth and another aspect of the Goddess.  Bear can also show us how to go within during the falling leaves-time, to enter her embracing dark cave, to hibernate, heal + regenerate.  Bear can also represent primal power, sovereignty and right-brain intuition coupled with instinct.  She also connects us to the beauty of art, re-bonding us with the very deepest of our ancestral roots within the belly of the Mother.  She helps us to be in touch with the Primal Mother—the She-Bear Goddess Artio who will defend you fiercely from all uncertainty.

Ancestral roots?... mother?  interesting...

The cave of Mother Bear is where She seeks answers while hibernating and dreaming. She then lazily awakens in the Spring, just like all the colours that emerge, awakening the power of the unconscious.  Mother Bear asks us to walk the path of inward silence of the West, to calm our inner chit-chat, the place of rites of passage... a path to the dreamtime... a place to dream our lives into being... along side with our dear Mother's own dreaming.

One of my favourite poems by Mary Oliver is titled,
Spring…

Somewhere
a black bear
has just risen from sleep
and is staring

down the mountain.
All night
in the brisk and shallow restlessness
of early spring

I think of her,
her four black fists
flicking the gravel,
her tongue

like a red fire
touching the grass,
the cold water.
There is only one question:

how to love this world.
I think of her
rising
like a black and leafy ledge

to sharpen her claws against
the silence
of the trees.
Whatever else

my life is
with its poems
and its music
and its glass cities,

it is also this dazzling darkness
coming
down the mountain,
breathing and tasting;

all day I think of her--
her white teeth,
her wordlessness,
her perfect love.
​
​—Mary Oliver

This last week out walking, with full intention of honouring a strong pull to go back to visit the bear rock once again.  Somehow i knew i needed to go though, wasn't really sure why.  
​Though following my hunch, off i went.

However, upon arriving at the spot i remembered where the trail down to the cliff was, i noticed that there were a number new "private property" signs up to the right of the "public access" sign entrance.

I carefully made my way down the rocky dry uneven trail.  I inched sideways further, where i saw there was also, a chain-link fence up, blocking the whole way to get down to where i knew bear rock was at the cliff's edge. 

I was royally annoyed.  Why was this barrier keeping me from visiting Mother Bear?   I was sure i needed to be here in some way.  Though i wondered, perhaps not.  What happened to the 'public access' that's no longer public?  What?   Whoever had bought the adjacent property next to the 'public access' marker had completely blocked any entry down to cliff's edge anymore.  

​How dare they?

Yearning for another way, i was determined to get to Her and know why i was being so called.  I made my way down along the stupid fence and, off to the left, discovered a steep climb towards the lower cliff though, noticed there was yet, another 'no trespassing' sign at the bottom.  Stink.  “I'm really not going to get there, am i?” i thought to myself—not legally anyways.  I began to make my way down though, soon was told intuitively ‘to stop'.   I clamoured back up the steep trail landing at the top on my butt, irked… frustrated.

I kept asking myself, "Why was this being so difficult?"  Had i not been respectful with the Spirits?  Do i need to ask permission? 

I hadn’t asked permission.

I humbly asked for consent with an old tree that was reaching itself out, horizontal to the sun, over the Salish Sea.  I pulled a small stone out of my pocket, mindfully blew some prayer though, tucking as an offering within a nook of the bark, then sat down in deflated silence.  I asked and, asked again.

Eager for some kind of reply, i heard a raven vocal-ing high above, as shared-air swished through wings, raven passed over, dropping onto a branch, see-sawing.  I sensed being checked out.

I asked again… sensing a stirring of words from my open heart…

"Dear one, you can connect with me from here, now… from anywhere, you know..." the voice whispered.  I smiled, "Of course, i know that." 

​The inner voice again breathed... "Go to Drumbeg..."

​Go to Drumbeg?... what?
That didn’t make any sense!

Drumbeg Park is at the other end of the island.  I didn't trust that last message—what i thought i had heard.

​I chose to sit a bit longer with the tree, feeling kind of bothered and disappointed though, enjoyed the birds flying about, the swirling water and such.  

​As i mentioned, i usually don't get messages like other perceptive folk seem to, so easily.  I'm often intrigued + impressed by their adeptness of their gift or i wonder, perhaps good guessers.  If i'm lucky, and listening, a teaching or message can often come much later, usually in an unexpected or ‘round about way.  I’ve come to accept that this is how i access from inquiry, a gift.

Discouraged, i stood up to leave, thinking i should just go home and, just get some work done.  I had a deer hide soaking in a bin that needed attending to—birth a drum.

Making my way up the same route i had come down, got in the car and intended to drive home.  When i got close to being back, something tugged, and i said to myself, “Ah, forget work,” and kept going, down the road towards Drumbeg.  “Why not?  It's a beautiful sunny day…I can work later…i should treasure these last warm days of summer.”
​

"I didn't hold you when you were born...
‘cause I knew you were going to be adopted so soon...
I didn't name you either... Couldn't do it—it was just too hard..."
—Marlene, my birth mother...
​

I love the stunning drive to Drumbeg Park.  I prefer to take South Road that’s more scenic, by the ocean, while winding through sights of trees—i never tire of it.

​Roughly fifteen minutes later, i arrived at the other end of the park.   With wooden flute in hand, i made my way down a steep + short narrow path carefully navigating over a number of large washed up, bleached white logs, entering the beach.  Surveying my space, i noticed some tourists off to my left,  So, gazing to my far right, i was surprised and thrilled to see there was a massive rock wall that i hadn't noticed there before.

I wanted to check it out…and, as i got closer, i noticed another intriguing large boulder rock that nudged my eye.  One that had been eroded from the inside out over time by the sea and frost.  We have many large sandstone and rock like this all over the island—many of which you can crawl or sit within.  One of our island's most famous, is the Malaspina Galleries at the north end of the island off Taylor Bay Road.  I love drumming in there in the quiet season when the tourists have left.

I carefully edged my way around this huge rock and noticed from it's back, it held quite an interesting, almost Mayan-like profile of a face.
I offered a courteous ‘hello’. 

I continued on towards the stone wall and explored jumping rock to rock along the face, curious with the eroded niches carved along the stone face.  I got as far to where the tide was coming in, then turned, inching my way back towards that big rock.

I walked completely around the stone-being, sensing…curious…attentive… felt invited to climb up inside the cave-like opening, which looked a little bit like the shape of a heart.

Tucking my flute into a back pocket, it took me a bit to get myself scaled up high and into the opening.  Grabbing whatever edges i could, i managed to pull my weight up and inside and sat down on the rough sandy floor.  This stone was so much bigger in size and energy than i thought—and i could feel a shift once inside.   All around me were holes eroded right though the wall of the rock that i could see through.  There was what seemed to be some red ochre on one part of the wall.  

I got myself settled in the roomy cocoon space and pulled out my flute.  I attempted to blow for a bit enjoyed the cool acoustics within.  I soon put my flute down and chose to sit in silence.  Perhaps i may receive a message in this old ancient stone? And, if not, well, we’ll see.

As i sat, at first, with eyes closed, i could hear ocean waves rhythmically rolling over pebbles on the beach, and not far away, the rush of a strong rip tide.  I took a couple deep long breaths.  I liked being there.

Looking out, very near, was a towering old cedar, dancing in the light winds.  Overhead, a stellar's jay flew in and out it's branches chattering noisily, plus, there were wispy angel clouds sailing by in that afternoon azure sky.

I sat for about 40-minutes or so enjoying the smells and the sounds, shot some silent video of the view out, blew more flute and to no avail, got no sense of any message or 'hit', other than knowing the joy of just being, there.

I asked the wind… the trees… the sky… stone… do i have to know?

I savoured being inside this old rock formed of petrified sand.  I felt held by something—maybe hugged?  There was something soothing and embracing about being within.  Though, i couldn't seem to settle myself—something also, felt quite foreign.  

Realizing that good ol' time was going by, i gingerly climbed back out, down onto the rocks onto the beach.  I then headed back to the car after scanning the beach for washed up treasures like, interesting small branches of driftwood, shells and such, then drove home.

I still felt somewhat miffed that i didn't get to see and be with the big Mother Bear Rock back off Canso Road earlier, though did enjoy my time at Drumbeg and i wasn't sure why Mother Bear or whatever had asked me to go there?  Most likely, wondered that perhaps, i needed to let the latter piece go.

​Perhaps.

The next day, upon waking, i suddenly realized that i had been with Mother Bear spirit, at Drumbeg all along.  I had been sharing my lovely afternoon with my partner there when, it hit me like a ton of bricks.  That the big ol' rock i had climbed into and sat within in so long—i had been held in the arms of Mother Bear!

Mother Bear had held me...
...and, i wept...




Later, two old memories surfaced out of nowhere.   I recalled two times quite young, incidents where i had been 'held' against my will.

Interesting…

When i was about 3 or 4.  My mom had attempted to force feed me a boiled egg.  I didn't want to eat that damn egg ‘cause i couldn’t stand the smell of it.  Though she really wanted me to eat that egg, and, wouldn't let me go until i did.   I fought and fought, trying to get away, though she held firm.  I felt suffocated.  I screamed and yelled as she pushed and shoved that egg into my tight-lipped mouth.  Crumbled egg was everywhere.  She eventually gave up.  

I still dislike eggs to this day—not my favourite food.

Though, i do know now that she was only desperately trying to get me to eat something of value.  Apparently, i was quite the picky eater as a kid.  I found foods to be either visually gross and/or weird-stinky like pizza or weiners.  Campbell’s chicken noodle soup was definitely my ‘go-to’ back then.

The second remembrance was when i was little older, though still very young, at about aged 5/6, maybe 7.

One afternoon at home my dad’s accountant/friend for the Farm business over for his annual visit.  He had come to bring my dad's completed income tax back for its final sign-off.  Then, they would sit down in the living room for a dram of whiskey—it was their ritual.  I don't recall where my mother or sister was at the time though i was hanging around, curious, like a kid would be.

At one point, the man scooped me up, plunking me on his knee.   I told him that i didn't want to sit on his knee though, ignoring me, laughing, began to bounce me up and down.  I didn’t like being bounced up and down.   I stated to him again that i wanted to get down because i had to go to the bathroom.  Both my dad and he seemed to find this scene very humorous.  Me? Embarrassed + trapped.  With drink clinking in one hand and his other arm, clutching me tight against his chest, continuing to bounce me up and down.  Up and down, up and down.   Helpless, i began to cry, feeling suffocated and helpless, pleading with him to let me down as i really had to go to the bathroom badly… up and down, up and down… and, then…

It happened.  I peed all over his lap.

Laughing though shocked, he released me to the floor and i ran away feeling so shamed and confused.  I don't even remember what happened after that—though i also wondered where my mother was during the whole affair?  I often ponder why my dad even allowed his friend to go on as long as he did.  Why didn't he look out for me and stop him?  Many thoughts have come.

Interesting…

Being held against my will... not feeling safe while being 'held'... 
+ i had never been held by my birth mother...
and, where was my mother?

all very interesting.

Though, Mother Bear Rock, an old, cold, stone, boulder 'held me' within Her warming safe embrace, and, thinking back to my beautifully guided afternoon, i had felt very safe.  Safely held within the Mother.  My blessed earth Mother.

Thank you Mother Bear, Artio, i thank you... i know you continue to hold me + for always.  I  hold much gratitude for your gentle teaching.

I am within great joy that i can visit with Her anytime, from anywhere... especially during this time of falling leaves, Lughnasadh.

and, perhaps she'll have a message for me, most likely, later...
brightest, weaver x (((?)))
​

​“something like a hug
i don’t know, far from such space
was never ever.”
—Haiku by weaver  

… may i continue to learn…

text/images by carol weaver, copyright by weaver © 2019

Mother Bear stone rock photos by weaver + jp wright © copyright 2017/2019...

Added March 22, 2020... 
​It was She who called me to come back to drum within Her…
​x (((o))) come be held... come journey…

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
​
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...