 honouring my grief... It’s been quite interesting during this time of isolation of the pandemic, the corona virus, covid-19... this morning a dear friend called it the, ‘isolation inflammation’... When the covid/isolation lock-down began over a month ago, i have to admit i felt a huge wave of relief... where, we and the world could finally, simply, STOP. I actually haven’t minded the break at all... have enjoyed resting... ‘being’ and doing some long-overdue tasks that never seemed to get done when i was busy working + teaching. However, it’s also been a bit of a stressful time too - not knowing what’s next or when this pandemic will even be over... and, how it’s affecting so many people all over the planet... Many folk are sick and/or dying and numerous lives devastated. It’s the not-knowing that is the strange feeling, that seems to sit somewhere un-known until... ...out of the blue, i suddenly feel guilty or a sadness comes over me - even some anxiety or fear... like i’m grieving something... or perhaps i’m feeling our Mother earth’s grieving... or what...? This virus is affecting us all on a global level... and, a few of the positive things that have come out of this is that, just after a few weeks, of the world literally shutting down... it seems our Mother is getting a long-overdue, great big rest - just like us... a time to simply breathe and relax... a big collective ‘sigh’ and just ‘be-ing’... And, what’s exciting is that all kinds of animals are showing themselves in places that they couldn’t before... waterways are clearing... pollution is lifting and so much more... Is this a message from our dear Mother? That perhaps we as a species can slow or halt climate change, if we only slow down and realize what’s truly important? I myself thought this whole pandemic-thing was initially a ‘distraction’ away from the growing concern of our climate... Whatever ‘this’ is... we may never know the why... though, what i do know is... when this pandemic is over, our way of being and our world will have shifted and changed... and now is a time where we as a global family can choose to dream our world into being... that our ‘old world’ is dying because it has to... because what we have been creating is not sustainable - it’s NOT working... Some wisdom-keepers are saying that we are the new midwives for our beautiful Mother... as she dreams her own dream into being... as we and She are being re-birthed into a whole new way of ‘be-ing’... We certainly live in interesting times eh?... x (((o))) Below, is a simple ceremony... to help us honour and gently release grief/sadness... knowing that as we release ‘dark + heavy energy’* through ceremony... it falls to our Mother earth where She composts it back into Light... ie., ‘As we feed Her - She feeds us'... a beautiful reciprocal exchange, a sacred relationship... clearing grief + fears - a simple ceremony... my grief bundle or altar... I have held a “grief bundle” or mesa for a while now and work with it when i feel i need to... This is a simple process... an ancient practice that will honour our grief/sadness + release it through co-creation with the earth’s gifts of cleansing fire + salt through simple ceremony... What you will need...
Assemble all your items + to prepare/create ceremony... (can be offered inside or out)...
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 placing them in the ocean - which will also continue to clear for you... 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... with much love + light, weaver x (((o))) *NOTE: ‘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 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 for us - She transforms it, like compost, back into Light - which is who we truly are! 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/stones... check in with them + ask.. sometimes stones have done their work + tell you they need dispersing... they are the wise ones + the story-tellers of our blessed Mother... the land. and they will tell you.. use all your senses to hook in, ask + listen... as we all connect in different ways.. some see, some feel, some hear, taste, etc.. etc... hope that helps... with brightest blessings of much love, wx (((o)))  my grief bundle...
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 ‘then i smoked a peterson pipe' © 2008 by weaver... This post is to explain, why the ‘big hair’ from a past post titled, ‘my first drum-set is the one i’ll love forever’ >>
Back in 2008, i was accepted into the Vancouver Pride In Art juried art show called “Gender Twist”... i was thrilled my painting ‘then i smoked a peterson pipe...’ was a part of this wonderful show at Roundhouse Community Arts and Recreation Centre. It’s a self portrait i painted in acrylics on a 4 x 4-foot gallery canvas... around the outside of the painting are the words: “true story... everybody thot i wuz a boy... so, i got my hair permed thinkin’ that would fix it... but that just made it worse, so, then i smoked a peterson pipe...” It’s funny, i wasn’t really sure i’d be accepted into the show... when i entered my submission, i hadn’t painted the final size painting yet... i initially submitted a small 1x1-inch thumbnail study... Well, i was accepted into the show... and then, had to paint the full size painting... i had never painted that large before... though i was up to the challenge... It now hangs in a private collection of two dear friends. It has certainly become one ‘conversation starter’. When i was growing up, i was definitely a ‘tomboy’.... and, during most of my youth, i was constantly mistaken for a boy... Being already quite androgynous-looking... super skinny with short-cropped hair, always in jeans or shorts, t-shirt and a hat... and, it seemed the older i got into my teens, more-often i was being called ‘son’ or folk being totally confused to ‘what’ i was. When i hit high school... being frustrated that folk were continually confused and now, being teased by my peers, i pleaded with mum to get my hair permed... thinking that, if my hair was curly, people would perhaps stop seeing me as a ‘boy’. After much pleading, mum finally succumbed to my wish and i finally got my hair permed. However, the perm went bad turning into a big complete mass ball of frizz. Getting a perm didn’t work at all... it made it worse... my crazy hair made me look even more androgynous! By this time, i was living and working at a summer job in the interior of Naramata BC... and, “then i smoked a peterson pipe!” I really did for a time... a bunch of us did...and no one knew who or what we were... and, that didn’t matter... anymore. Back in 2006, during a sacred fire ceremony, i caught a moment’s glimpse of our circle ‘stepping into our becoming’ of who ‘we’ truly are...  full moon photo © by weaver x ... crystals carried...
mindfully left behind with light-lined mountain spirit... rumble sounds from deep within our Mother... lying on my back letting go... letting go... it’s okay... just letting go... spirials of feather wands and stones... drumming my core out and in again... ’round and ‘round we go... again and again... purple flamed fires there... reflect... our beautiful circle... standing up... standing ready... within all our glory... power-full! eyes shining bright... faces so star-aware... reclaiming who we truly are... our blessed earth Mother... Her children... re-membering... we love... with brightest blessings... x (((o))) by weaver © 14/08/2006  women’s red drum birthed by weaver... i lovingly birthed this sacred red drum during the recent Capricorn waning crescent moon last week...
She is on a stained + finished 16-inch maple lightweight hoop... i painted her face with the waning crescent moon in gold acrylics on a beautiful dyed red elk spirit... The inside of the hoop is stained in red ochre... the handle is finished in a soft red felt and the four-direction ties wrapped in gold sinew... the mallet handle is wood burned with a dyed red moose leather top pocket... During the birthing process i found her spirit to be one very happy drum... and i really enjoyed birthing her! I always open sacred space before i ever birth any drums or rattles - to create a sacred space for my guidance including our blessed earth Mother to come in + assist me... and it is this guidance that always leads the way... It’s interesting... since birthing my own personal drum over 25 years ago, i have found that every drum and that includes red drums that i have birthed, they all find their own voice... and i can’t control that - i have to get out of the way... oh, there have been times when i’ve been lax and have attempted to control or push how a drum is to birthed... and, often, most times, the birthing process ends up so much harder and sometimes, i have had to re-birth the drum all over again... because of my pushing... So, i have learned a lot over the years of being a drum maker... a drum birther... it is imperative that i hold + create this birthing process as a very sacred act... as i am birthing a new drum that represents the voice of blessed earth Mother... who am i to think it’s ‘me’ doing this work?.. it is my dear Mother including all the guidance i have called in within my sacred container who is actually creating this sacred work... i am only the ‘hands’ making + birthing a sacred drum... and in this case, this beautiful red drum... With this particular “red drum”... once i was prepared, the hide was complete being dyed red + rehydrated as a living breathing spirit, my tools ready and my own sacred self holding the space, i was guided to simply get quiet... and meditate along with the pulse, the heartbeat of my dear Mother... i simply asked her beautiful, resonant voice to move through me to birth this lovely red drum... in spirit essence, together "we" are re-birthing/resurrecting this beautiful spirit... knowing the animal/animistic has preciously given their life to become this sacred drum... to become the blessed voice of our dear Mother... So... i got my own self out of the way to allow her stunning spirit to birth Her own way... The women’s red drum is very ancient holding much spirit... womyn’s spirit... representing the blood of our dear Mother and all women... birthing, rites of passage, our monthly blood cycles... our women’s mysteries... women have always drummed and are known to be the first drummers... women used to paint their drums with red ochre... that colour of red that comes directly from our earth mother... to represent our blood mysteries... our red drums were also used to invoke the great Goddess... Mother Gaia... and we as women are now reclaiming our rites, our ceremonies celebrating who we are as womyn who deeply care about our dear Mother goddess... i wrote more about how the herstory and spirit of the red drum revealed Herself to me here on my blog >> This red drum is awaiting her new care-taker to come forward when the time is right... If you would like to learn more about this sweet women’s red drum + have a wee listen, please feel free to visit my drum birthing shop page >> Also... if you would like to place a custom red drum or other type of drum, please don’t hesitate to contact me... pricing for my custom drum birthing is on my shop page here >> I also offer sacred drum birthing sessions twice a year (in the spring + fall) and private groups... For more info + upcoming dates about my drum birthing workshop intensives please visit this page here >> with brightest blessings + much love... weaverx (((o)))  weaver, circa about 1978/9... drumming in McClaren Hall, Naramata Centre, BC... photographer unknown... Wow... here's a blast from the past for throwback thursday today = holy whoa, look at that hair!!!... Yes, this photo is of me in my early 20's... i believe this shot was probably taken when i either worked at Carnegie Centre in the downtown Eastside of Vancouver back in the early 80's (i also ran their coffeehouse)... or just out of high school in the late 70's when i played in a jazz trio in Naramata, BC... Who knows... it was sooo long ago? What's so cool in this photo, is that this is the first drum-kit i have owned... This is the set that my dear mum gave me for my 10th birthday!... and, i had that kit forever... I have to say that my 10th birthday was the best ever... I recall my mum telling me on the morning of my birthday, "Make sure you get home from school as soon as you can today for a big surprise!"... and later, when i did get home, there, strewn in the front hallway were a whole set of drums - for me!!! WOW! I couldn't believe my eyes.... i wuz over the moon!!! ... It was the coolest thing my mum ever did... the bestest present ever... She had bought them used, though a local newspaper ad... They were certainly the ugliest, beat-up drums ever... as a previous owner had re-covered them with a gawd-awful green paisley wallpaper... plus, painted boldly on the front of the bass drum head, in VERY thick dark green oil paint, were the words, 'The Heard' ... and, stuffed inside that kick/bass drum was old crumpled up newspaper sheets (to dampen the sound i suspect) which dated back to the early 60's... Though, i didn't care... i loved my drums cuz they were MY drums... Eventually, i fixed them up and re-covered them... and they went everywhere with me ... even to Alert Bay when i worked for a short time and to the interior in Naramata + many other places.......... I didn't realize until years later, when i gifted the set to the Carnegie coffeehouse that some of the parts were indeed vintage + probably worth some good money... like the Ludwig snare drum (an LM 400!) though, i never told my mum! Apparently it's vintage and was one of the most recorded snare drums in music history... cool eh?... and, i had owned one. My drums rocked! I have to say that i'm thrilled to have this, a photo of them... such a wonder-full memory... Mum, you're simply the best! ... love you sooo much!... xoxo I explain why the 'big hair' in this post >> tee tee!! x (((o))) PS... it has been confirmed that the above photo was taken in the basement of McLaren Hall at Naramata Centre in about 1978 or 1979...  red drum dreaming by weaver... The other day, in a quiet moment... I was imagining... wondering what life may have looked like if I had grown up in a more positive environment? Would I have more self-confidence?... be more extroverted?... would I feel as much as I do?... or see as deeply as I see? ...does it even matter?... Since the mark of the new year... especially during today's full moon/eclipse in cancer, i’ve been spending some good time journeying in... to that place of my own preciousness ... the place of my healed state - the light of who I truly am... it's been an interesting re-hello......... Since moving here to beautiful Gabriola, I've learned a lot about fire... I like that I tend our hearth-fire... chopping wood, stacking, lighting... We heat our home exclusively with the wood stove... so, during the dark cold months, our fire is always going needing continual tending... For the last couple of weeks, in the evenings, I've been quite drawn to sit on the floor, right in front of the wood stove... I love opening the door, welcoming the radiant heat blasting my face, all of me... appreciating how the warm goes right inside and through me... I'm really loving fire right now... I know it's been helping me... Looking back... to a place before... little, young and wee... recalling dissonant heavy stuff that i managed to soak up like a soft sponge cuz I trusted... I felt a lot, a whole fecking lot!... took on agreements that weren't mine... didn't even belong to me...  So i’ve been lovingly giving that heavy energy away... letting go... gifting it to the cleansing sacred fire... mindfully, safely opening up...unwinding my three worlds...
Choosing to empty it ALL out... that which no longer serves... all I've seen... all I have heard... all I felt... yanking out a lot of the old threads... feeding them to the sacred flame... where my blessed earth mother welcomes my black compost, which feeds her... she then transforms that darkness back to Sami-light...resonant life... a beautiful relationship of reciprocity... I feed Her as She feeds me... I pick it all out with my trusty seam-ripper ... cutting + pulling out long strands that have been running on automatic...in the background... like downed, live power-lines, flailing about... After all that heaviness burns to the ground... I then gather that sweet gift of light transformed, back into my belly, heart and mind... re-informing... filling myself back up with the bright clear light of who I truly am... hello weaver......... It feels good to continue to rip out those embedded seams that don’t belong or match my own weave... my dreaming... happy new year with brightest blessings... xo (((o))) photos/video by weaver © 2020 x (((o)))
 As a sacred drummer I've come to believe that the desire to build a sacred relationship does require sacred time to connect with that which you hold dear... it's all about simply saying hello and connecting... get it going...
Our blessed earth Mother connects deeply with us within every moment... are we listening? ... One way we can connect with Her is... to sound her beautiful heart-voice... have a play-date with your dear drum... She would really like that... so, consider giving you drum a hug today... She just may surprise you and say hello back! xo ❣️❣️❣️—weaver x (((o)))
"Mother, Bear... invites me... into her darkly cave... where silence surrounds... the answers She gave..."  "falling leaf" red drum by weaver...
"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.  gabriola living art...
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.  meeting stone being, big Mother Bear...
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  no trespassing!...
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..."  spirit bear, large wood carving, by Chrystos...
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...  old, wise stone-heart…
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.  from behind, a face...
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.  looking out...
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.  with ancient old stone...
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 
being, sitting within… seeing out…
Mother Bear stone rock photos by weaver + jp wright © copyright 2017/2019...
a new drum journey with mother bear rock...
Added March 22, 2020...
It was She who called me to come back to drum within Her… x (((o))) come be held... come journey…
(((o))) “All the eggs a woman will ever carry form in her ovaries while she is a four-month-old fetus in the womb of her mother. This means our cellular life as an egg begins in the womb of our grandmother. Each of us spent five months in our grandmother's womb, and she in turn formed within the womb of her grandmother. We vibrate to the rhythms of our mother's blood before she herself is born, and this pulse is the thread of blood that runs all the way back through the grandmothers to the first Mother.” —Layne Redmond 
"Are you ready Carol?..." Debbie asked excitedly... My half-sister and i were on an arranged phone call together... Debbie was the oldest of four half-sisters i had just met weeks earlier - on the phone... Months earlier, the BC Adoption Reunion Registry (ARR) had finally changed from being a passive registry to an active registry in 1991. When that status changed, all BC adoption records with the passive registry had been transferred to Family Services of BC - where they contacted those of us who were registered with the ARR, announcing we could now request an 'active search' for birth parents/relatives. Before the change, both parties would have had to have been registered in the passive registry to create a match/reunion. I had registered with the passive registry many years earlier... and, on my birthday every year, ran a classified ad in the Vancouver Sun "People Finders" section - hoping my birth mother may see the ad... Though, nothing ever came of that annual ad... I applied immediately for an active search... and a Family Services Researcher was assigned to my case to conduct a search for my birth mother... I was quite excited at the thought of perhaps, one day, they may find her... As soon as i had been told i was adopted, i had often wondered who she was, what had happened...why i had been adopted...so many questions...would i look like her? I had grown up in my adoptive family - tho never felt like i truly belonged in some weird way... i called myself the "pink sheep"... I felt like a stranger in a strange land... i knew nothing about my birth ancestry, my family name or where i came from?... Who the heck was i?... My older brother was six years older, the only biological child... I often called him, "the real one" in the family and still do... and my younger sister, adopted as i was - though, from a different family/area of BC... i didn't look like anyone in my adoptive family - neither did my sister... I recall a moment at elementary school on the playground swings, when a friend blatantly announced that i looked so much like my mother... I couldn't believe my ears and told her that i was adopted and how was that even possible?... She just shrugged her shoulders. I knew i didn't look like my adoptive mother...father or anyone! I waited many months before i heard anything from Family Services... until one day... I was attending a women's business conference and towards the end of the long day, my partner said she wanted to see one more booth... I was tired, not interested in seeing any more displays and said I'd wait for her before we left... I was standing next to a booth in the middle of the bustling hall, when i felt an abrupt dizziness, catching myself from falling over. It was a strange, swirling feeling like i was going off somewhere... then it stopped - i came back... i didn't think much of it other than perhaps i was just tired... Later, i went back to the studio to finish up some work before dinner when the phone rang... It was a call from Anne, who was my researcher from Family Services... She was happy to announce that she had found my birth mother earlier that afternoon... hmmnnnn...i wondered to myself later... when Anne received the call back from my birth mother earlier that day... could it have been around the same time i felt so dizzy earlier that afternoon? I wonder... Anne mentioned it had taken a long time to find my mother because she had married (a year after she gave birth to me) and had changed her name... Anne then asked me if i was sitting down.... I said, "yes"... when she went on to announce that i also had four half-sisters! I was shocked... It's funny... all the years i had been searching for my birth mother thinking, that maybe, one day i might find her... never ever did i think or realize that she might have had a whole family of her own - a life... Really?... Wow! After further chat with Anne, she added, that one of my half-sisters had attempted to find me for a number of years and would i like to exchange phone numbers to connect...would that be okay... I said, "Sure"... Not long after getting off the phone with Anne, i received a call from Debbie, my half sister, who was the oldest... One of the first things she told me was how relieved she was to know that she wasn't the oldest anymore - i was! I wasn't sure what to make of that...? That evening i talked with all my half-sisters... I remember it being such a fun time "catching up" and sharing stories... especially with Debbie - who was 'over the moon' that we had finally connected... She could hardly contain herself! She told me that her mom had once told her... it slipped out after a party, that she had an older sister... and that her mother had forced her to give me up because she was unwed. My birth mother swore from that day forward she would never give another child up... and she never did. A year later after i was adopted, she met a fellow, got married and raised a family with four daughters... After the calls that evening, Debbie suggested that a first, slow step to a possible reunion would be to exchange letters and photos with each other and our shared mother... of which we all did... The next step we decided, was to arrange "to meet" on a phone call with Marlene... and so, a date and time was set a couple of weeks later... The day came to meet on the call... i was so nervous... What am i doing?... What should, will i say?... What will we talk about? What is there to talk about? i wanted to forget the whole thing...yikes....... At the arranged time, the phone rang on the minute... I let the phone ring a couple of times, sucked in a deep breath and hesitantly picked up the phone... I was relieved it was Debbie on the other end... She told me she was at her mom's place, with her mom beside her and mentioned she was just as nervous as i was... With excitement in her voice Debbie then asked, "Are you ready Carol?".... I said, hesitantly, "oh...kay..." I could hear Debbie talking in the background asking her mom if she was ready.............. I could hear my mother laughing in the background as Debbie was handing her the receiver... As "mom" fumbled with the phone, she was still laughing, right from her belly... the first thing she said before she even said hello was, to laugh........ In that moment, i pulled the phone an arm's length from my ear............. it's hard to describe because i felt something i had not ever felt before or knew?... I was remembering my own mother's laugh...............whoa... I knew right then and there, in and throughout my whole beingness.... that i had heard my mother's laugh before...i KNEW that laugh... i'll never forget that powerful visceral vibrational feeling = a total body re-membrance! In that moment, i knew i was talking to my birth mother and, i also knew during that "conference dizziness" i had felt her on such a deep vibrational level... And, i can't even remember what we talked about during that call... It's interesting... all the years i have taught drumming and drum birthing, i have had many folk share with me that they don't know how to drum...or even think they can ever learn how to drum... I smile reply back... "What do you think is the first sound or vibration you have ever heard or felt?"... "It is the sound vibration, the pulse of your Mother's blood... the sound of her heartbeat when you were in her womb for nine months - that is a sound vibration you know so deeply, felt and heard first... of course you know how to drum... her heartbeat pulse is vibrating in your bones!" I now know my Mother.. her vibration and resonance is in my bones! sooo, do stay tuned if you wish... more to come... with brightest blessings, weaver x (((o)))  tree spirit having a peek... Out walking in the forest, i often get the sense i'm not alone... and often, i catch snippets of connection from the spirits who reside there... and sometimes they have a message for me... if i'm open to listening + hearing... i know they have much to share with us... the shy ones they are.... x "sometimes “they” have a cautious peek at us......... from a safe distance cuz “they” lost our trust long ago....... i’m sure they wonder if we’re ever going to wake up + get it... or re-member who we were once were... as folk who lived in balance with all... who walked together on our dear mother’s back....... in respect + honour of all living things... seen + unseen......" -- The Sidhe, weaver x (((💚))) © July 19, 2019...🧚🏼♀️❣️  the spirit of the forest where i live on beautiful Gabriola... |
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