Shame – Day 119

Posted on March 11, 2019March 11, 2019 by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

Messenger/Visitor; Photo: L.Weikel

Shame

I’m sitting here on my couch, trying to think of something different to write about tonight. I’m surprised by how tired I am, particularly since it is actually an hour earlier than the time on the clock.

You may have noticed that I got on a bit of a tear over the past few days, and I’m feeling the need to just step back and allow things to ‘be,’ allow the memories I dredged to sift and settle.

Quite honestly, the past two posts have been surprisingly revealing to me. Not only writing them, but also paying attention to my thoughts and feelings as the process unfolded, including the aftermath.

For one thing, I was utterly surprised by the content of my post on Friday night. It’s not as if I’d been sitting around all day contemplating the significance – or even the existence – of International Women’s Day. If asked, I probably wouldn’t have known it was ‘a day’ had it not been for Facebook and the myriad posts celebrating the vast array of achievements by women throughout the ages as well as more recent centuries and decades.

So as I found myself immersed in those early memories of being told and believing I had nearly limitless potential, I was surprised to notice the stirring of a feeling that I didn’t recognize. It was unfamiliar, and definitely uncomfortable. I didn’t like the feeling, yet I felt an even deeper, more primal need to keep writing, to get the story out.

Impulsively Hit Publish

When I lifted my head to take a breath Friday night, I realized two things: I only had a few minutes to get a post published, and I would have to break it up into two.

I hadn’t completed writing the memories that were demanding sunlight. But I had enough for one post. So I cut it off where I did, leaving several paragraphs dangling, with the intention of fleshing them out the next night.

I hit <<publish>> and went to bed.

When I opened my eyes yesterday morning, I felt anxious. Yikes, I’d revealed a lot more about myself than usual. While a lot of what I write is obviously intimate, there is some invisible line that I rarely if ever cross. I’m deeply uncomfortable talking about things like grades or achievements. I know for a fact this was ingrained in me by my parents, and from some interesting anthropological materials I’ve come across, I have a feeling this is part of my DNA, a cultural inheritance from my almost exclusively Irish ancestry.

In my parents’ eyes, there was not much worse you could be than arrogant. A liar perhaps. That would be worse. Or the worst. But arrogance was up there.

So humility was expected, entrained, and ingrained in me.

State of Discomfort

Revealing that I’d gotten good grades and done well in school was OK, but uncomfortable. Seeming to bitch about how things unfolded in law school felt weird. I wasn’t bitching; I was just revealing the situation as it was. But it was uncomfortable, especially as I lay in bed yesterday morning, staring out our bedroom windows, contemplating what I’d written and shared with the world.

All day I felt a bit out of sorts. I was embarrassed. Who was I to complain about things? I’d had it so much easier than so many others. I was literally in a state of discomfort whenever I thought about what I’d written.

As the day wore on, I seriously considered writing an apology to all of you. Karl had chided me for apologizing a couple of times way back in some of my first blog posts. I can’t even remember what it had to do with, but he told me it was simply ugly and I should refrain from doing it in the future.. So I felt this push/pull. Deep discomfort/desire to apologize.

Alright, I thought to myself. I won’t apologize. But I will simply refrain from completing and publishing ‘part two.’

And that’s how I approached my writing time last night. I would put aside the partially written ‘part two’ and write about something totally different. I would save what I’d written for another day, perhaps. Or never. But definitely not now.

When I went to copy the extra material from the previous night’s rough draft and paste it into its own document, I started reading it again. I got fired up. The rest of what I wanted to express just poured out of my fingertips.

I Was Ashamed

I realized I’d never thought I would ever tell this story out loud. How degraded and devalued I’d felt as a young woman. What a lie I’d lived, with people always assuming the ‘rich lawyer’ myth, which could not have been further from the truth.

And then it hit me: I was ashamed. I was ashamed of myself.

Obviously you know, if you read Saturday night’s post, that I gave myself permission to tell ‘part two.’

I’ve been contemplating this ‘shame’ thing all day. It’s a word I’ve rarely, if ever, associated with myself; not consciously, at least.

Surprisingly, I think I experienced something pretty monumental as a result of what I shared with all of you. I’m still contemplating.

I’ll let you know where this contemplation leads me.

As always, I’m grateful for your company on this journey.

(T-992)

Return to Pennsylvania – Day 118

Posted on March 10, 2019 by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments

Hootie Giving the Stink-Eye – Photo: L. Weikel

Return to Pennsylvania

Karl and I had decided we would go wherever I found a job, but the truth was, we both wanted to return to Pennsylvania. I took a job here in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, in spite of being offered an absolute pittance to start. I had no frame of reference, though, and I honestly assumed I would easily earn more, quickly, since I was confident in my abilities. I received a small increase when I passed the bar exam. (And back in those days, the Bar Exam consisted of a day of written essay questions and another day of a very long multiple choice test. If you did well enough on the multiple choice test, they didn’t even bother to read your essays. My essays weren’t read.) I’m embarrassed to say how little I accepted as my first salary; how little I felt I was worth.

Especially at first, annoyed clients would balk over having a ‘girl’ work on their files. Surely I wasn’t a ‘real’ attorney? Snarky, provincial comments were made far more frequently than I ever imagined they would. I’d had no idea Buffalo, New York was exponentially more progressive than Perkasie, Pennsylvania. (Side note here? I didn’t grow up in Bucks County, so I had no frame of reference. “My bad,” as they say.)

Snark and No Boundaries

I only stayed at that firm for two years. While I knew the other associate in the firm made at least double (closer to triple) what I was making, I wrote it off to the fact that he had about four years more experience and had been a high school teacher before going to law school. I was in awe of his ability to just blithely leave work at 5:00 p.m., too. Wow. I couldn’t wait until I had that much confidence. He rarely worked late. He had to get home to play with his kids.

I, on the other hand, devoted to doing my utmost for every client on every issue, determined to prove I was equal to any task asked of me, did not know the meaning of 9 to 5. Meanwhile my paycheck was barely paying for daycare for Karl.

The second law firm I worked at was considered progressive and cutting edge. At least all the guys (meaning all the partners) thought they were. I was the first woman they hired. It was 1985. I was still earning well below $20,000/year.

Pinch-hitting ‘for the Team’

About a year into my tenure there, when the most senior partner had emergency quadruple bypass surgery, I was called in to take over his cases. All of them. In addition to my own caseload, which was all the domestic relations work of the firm, plus the ‘dog’ cases no one else wanted to handle. After a year of ‘pinch-hitting for the team’ and realizing that that partner was never coming back again full time, I demanded some recompense. I was begrudgingly given $1,000. Not a raise, though. “Times were hard” for the firm, I was told. Yet the fact that each and every one of them drove Jaguars laid bare that lie.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered that the male associate they hired after I started handling all of the senior partner’s cases, who had two fewer years experience than I and who was known office-wide to do only as much as he had to do, and to cut corners, was making thousands more than I.

I only found out about the discrepancy because one of the support staff saw it, knew it was patently outrageous, and surreptitiously disclosed it to me. As a result, I had to bring it up with the partner in charge of these issues in a roundabout way. I could not risk getting the support staff person in trouble. It was a dance. He didn’t want to admit it was true, but eventually…

Really? Are You Kidding Me?

The reason given for the fact that this younger, less experienced, and far less hard working male associate was getting paid more than I was that he had a wife to support (even though she worked – and was a professional). And I had a husband. As if either of those conditions had any bearing whatsoever on what I should be getting paid. Remember, this was a ‘progressive’ firm. I can only wonder if they look back on this now and regret their selfish, grossly unfair mistreatment. I wonder how they feel now that their daughters are adults.

I should note here that, back when I started out in the early ‘80s, no one talked about what they were earning. I belonged to the ‘Women Attorneys of Bucks County’ group and I had no idea what anyone else was getting paid. In retrospect, I was probably afraid to ask. As far as the situation at my firm?

I got nowhere. They didn’t care. They simply could not see the inherent injustice.

How could they not comprehend this? I still wonder at it.

Enter Son #2

Meanwhile, I got pregnant with our second son. I literally – literally– worked until my contractions were 10 minutes apart.

Not unsurprisingly, there was no policy at our firm for maternity leave. There were vague assurances that I could ‘take some time off.’ But in reality? I gave birth to my son in the wee hours of a Saturday and I continued working. Why? Because the senior partner kept getting sick, kept having emergencies, and I was the one consistent factor not only in our clients’ lives but also in the overall handling of the cases as well. So my secretary drove armloads of files up to my house, every couple days, so I could dictate on them and keep them moving.

Funny thing, though. Because I wasn’t physically in the office and they didn’t see me working all day every day, payroll ‘got screwed up.’ Yeah. I was technically away from the office for not quite six weeks – and didn’t get my paychecks until I returned to work. Nice touch, eh? It really took the stress off me and facilitated the breastfeeding of #2, I can tell you. (Not.)

Might As Well Do It For Myself

It was after this callous treatment that I decided that if I was going to work this hard, day in and day out, I might as well do it for myself. So I announced my decision to open my own practice. Oh, they tried to get me to stay. They promised me all sorts of things – even a satellite office of my own. I wanted to believe them. I tested the waters and within a few weeks realized they were just going to keep promising things but never delivering. So I left.

And here’s the real kicker: I was so hell bent on acting with integrity that I did not take one single case with me. Stupid; I know. But I didn’t want them to ever be able to say I’d ‘stolen’ cases from them – even if I knew with absolute certainty that some clients might want to come with me. I didn’t even take a mailing list – because they asked me not to tell the clients.

Naively, I hoped at least a few of the clients would want to follow me – and would insist on it. Clients are always free to take their cases elsewhere. I knew many appreciated my work and how familiar with and dedicated I was to their cases. Surely the partners would not stand in their way when the clients requested their files? I trusted they’d do the right thing – both by me and by our clients.

Do the Right Thing?

Well, it turned out that the partner whose bacon I’d saved time after time, emergency after emergency, for over two years (and remember, nine months of that time pregnant), lied to our mutual clients. He told them I was retiring from the law because of the birth of our second son and he didn’t know how to get in touch with me. The only way I found that out was when a client went the extra mile to track me down because he could not believe I would just bail on him.

A few other clients also tracked me down. But it took a lot of effort on their part. Remember, this was pre-internet; indeed, practically pre-computer.

Ironically, that younger associate left the firm about two years after I left – taking his entire caseload with him. Yes. He made sure he ‘hit the ground running.’ A lot of loyalty he showed them. But hey – maybe they expected that behavior. Maybe I was just dumb for taking the high road.

The saddest thing, though, was that I’d considered most of the partners to be like older brothers to me. Indeed, that was why I’d taken the jokes and allusions to what I might have ‘done’ to win or settle some of my cases – some of which were real dogs – in stride. I wanted to be one of the boys. I was happy to show I had a sense of humor and could hold my own in any situation.

All I Wanted Was to be Treated Equally.

Well, that turned out to be a crock. And I continue to pay the price. As do far too many of us.

So forgive me for feeling a bit agitated that some 30 years later, we’re celebrating the achievements of women for one day – or even one month – per year; yet we’re still not even paid the same wages or salary for the same work. Hell, we’re still paid less for doing more.

To coin a phrase: we’re better than this.

(T-993) P.S.: The Clarence Thomas/Anita Hill hearings were still three years in the offing when I opened my own – eventually successful and built completely from the ground up – firm.

P.P.S.: I am a fucking feminist.

International Women’s Day ? – Day 117

Posted on March 9, 2019March 9, 2019 by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments

Hootie – Photo: L.Weikel

International Women’s Day?

Somehow, it just hits home time after time how pathetic it is that the status of women is so bad in so many places around this great big world of ours that we actually have to have a ‘day’ – set aside in the middle of our ‘month’ (Women’s History Month) – to call attention to and celebrate women and their myriad contributions to the world.

It’s sort of a double-edged sword to me. On the one hand, hey, at least we’re all in a place where we’re at least acknowledging the contributions of women, right?

But damn. It is simply astounding to me that our achievements, our innovations, our talents and abilities, continue to be suppressed. Or minimized. Or trivialized.

Or even worse: ignored.

Or worst: Outright lied about.

I Could Do or Be Whatever I Wanted

I don’t know if my experiences were typical of other women in my generation, but I feel like I was sold a bunch of bullshit. When I was growing up, going to high school, then college – and then law school – I was told I could become anything I wanted; I was free to pursue any career that called to me.

I had all the credentials. Excellent grades; graduated within the top couple people in my class. (I fudge a little here because I spent my senior year in Sweden, so my grades from Åkrahällskolan didn’t exactly translate point-for-point.) Better than decent SAT scores, especially considering I only took them once, in my junior year. And I had extracurricular stuff out the whazzoo. I won’t bore you with a recitation. But I can tell you this: I didn’t do those things to plump up my resumé. I did them because I loved being involved, being a part of things.

I was filled with an exuberance for learning and doing. And I completely believed that the women who were blazing a trail just ahead of me were entirely within their rights to burn their bras and demand passage of the ERA. (Even though they were only 10-15 years older than I, they almost seemed a generation ahead of me. I couldn’t imagine not having the rights they were so stridently known for demanding.)

Our Equality Was Obvious – Wasn’t It?

What was the big deal? Why did people care what a woman did with her own body? Whose business was it but her own? And why in the world couldn’t I do anything a guy could do? It truly did not occur to me that there was any possible truth to the trope I would hear that boys were smarter than girls. Indeed, it seemed so logical that I was, of course, equal to any boy that I eschewed calling myself a ‘feminist.’ Me? Nope. Not a feminist. I was just a person. An equal person.

I look back now and there it was: that fast, I’d absorbed our culture’s disdain for uppity women. I didn’t want to be known as ‘one of them.’ I would show the world I was equal, simply by being just as good as any man.

I Was Surrounded By Absurdity

And quite honestly? All of that talk was as patently absurd to me as when I sat in the pew of my Catholic church and heard that everyone who wasn’t baptized wouldn’t go to heaven. I distinctly remember sitting there, probably age 10 at the most, thinking, “He (the priest) has to be kidding. They (the congregation) cannot possible believe this is true. We are not the only people on the planet and there are a lot of people who aren’t Catholic. Surely they’re not all going to hell (or wherever).”

I refused to believe that an entire religion could possibly believe something so on-its-face ridiculous. So I just shrugged it off. I ignored it. That and the young priest just out of seminary who took a fancy to me. The one the pastor asked me to ‘help’ with a youth group that was starting. Just ignored it. Thought it must’ve been my fault, somehow. You know: leading him on.

Just last summer I discovered both of them – the pastor and the then-newly minted priest – had ended up on “the list.” The list of predators.

Still Not a Feminist

Fast forward to two weeks before the start of my second year of law school. I gave birth to my (our) first son.

The fact that I had a newborn and was not taking a leave of absence made me a stark anomaly at school – but one that was most expediently dealt with by simply ignoring me. (Other than the oft-repeated ‘joke’ that I was proof there was sex in law school. Hardy har har.)

No one asked me if I needed anything. I am quite sure the thought of providing me with a place to breastfeed (which yeah, I tried to do – woefully inadequately) never occurred to anyone. It certainly didn’t occur to me. Nor did any other possible accommodation that might have made my life even the tiniest bit easier.

And to be honest? I probably wouldn’t have accepted it anyway. Because I was bound and determined to just suck it up and do what I needed to do. After all, I always believed I could do anything I set my mind to doing, so I would do this, too. I would prove I could do anything a man could do – and then some. (But I still wasn’t a feminist.)

I even snagged an internship with the U.S. Attorney’s office the summer my son turned one. Yes. I was doing it. Living the dream. Being equal.

**********************************************************************************************************

I’m going to end this chapter of my “International Women’s Day” story here.

I may or may not continue it tomorrow. Suffice it to say, law school was idyllic compared to the reality of practicing law in Upper (read ‘rural’) Bucks County in the early ‘80s. I was in for a shock.

And the saddest part, to me, is what I see going on all around us right now – almost 40 years later. The fact that we have to have a day, or a month, dedicated to appreciation and celebration of women – when we are a driving force and represent over half of the world’s population – is maddening.

Which, again, makes me realize what a crock we women have been sold.

And I guarantee you, no one wins when this absurdity persists.

P.S.: I’m a feminist.

(T- 994)

Uranus Enters Taurus – Day 116

Posted on March 8, 2019 by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

Photo: nasa.gov

Uranus Entered Taurus Yesterday

I mentioned this astrological event in my post yesterday, along with the new moon that occurred in Pisces, but I didn’t say all that much about it.

The movement of Uranus into Taurus, however, has a lot more long-term significance than the waxing and waning of the moon, since Uranus has an orbit of 84 years. Indeed, the last time Uranus moved into Taurus was 1934.

It Takes Uranus 84 Years to Move Through All 12 Signs of the Zodiac

That means that Uranus takes seven years to move through each individual sign. Thus, for the past seven years, it has been transiting through Aries, which is the first sign of the natural zodiac. So, if you happen to be an Aries, then Uranus has been impacting your 1^sthouse over the past seven years: so you may have experienced opportunities to revolutionize or innovate your concept of yourself, how you present yourself to the world, or sudden changes to how you think about yourself, etc.

In order to help you know which house of the zodiac Uranus is impacting, you need to refer back to those two basic and essential aspects of your chart that I wrote about a while ago: your sun sign, and your rising or “ascendant” sign.

Uranus Brings Change – Often the Sudden and Unpredictable Kind

Uranus is a planet that is often associated with sudden change, innovation, and creative insights. Change is a really huge aspect of Uranus, and whatever house it is traveling through for us is where we will probably see the most intense change or shift in our status quo. For me, I always associate the image of a lightning strike with Uranus.

Of course, it helps if you can figure out which houses in particular of yours Uranus is in when it moves into Taurus. You can find that out by reading your sun sign and your ascendant sign in this excellent article by Chani from May 2018, when Uranus first moved into Taurus.

It just so happens that Uranus actually entered Taurus on May 15^thof 2018 and stayed in that sign until this past November. So it’s possible that we may have had a preview of what the next seven years will bring us if we look back on how things unfolded for us in that six month period of May – November of 2018.

Uranus Retrograded Into Aries From November 2018 through 6 March 2019

As Chani actually explains in the article linked just above, in November 2018, Uranus went retrograde and returned to Aries for one last kiss goodbye. This retrograde into Aries lasted from November through yesterday – March 6^th, 2019.

Just as a point of interest? Following is an assessment from 2011 of what Uranus moving into Aries might bring. Remember, Uranus moved into Aries in 2011. When I read this, I find the possibilities mentioned, knowing what actually did happen, pretty fascinating.

Now, however, Uranus is in Taurus, for good, until April 2026.

I don’t know about you, but when I contemplate these longer transits, I can’t help but wonder how life will change, both personally and globally, for each of us. It is fascinating to track whether the changes we all inevitably experience in life bear some correlation to the ‘house’ through which Uranus is moving in our chart.

My life certainly was struck by lightning in 2011 – and I’ll never think of myself in quite the same way again. I’m an Aries, so the transit that began in 2011 was in my 1^sthouse. The house of Who I Am.

Uranus – nationalgeographic.com.au

(T- 995)

Happy New Moon – Day 115

Posted on March 7, 2019 by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

The start of a ‘moonless’ night – Photo: L. Weikel

Happy New Moon

Yes, I know, new moons happen every 28 ½ days. Month after month. Never ending, just cycling over and over again.

So what’s the big deal?

Maybe it’s the simple rhythm of that cycle. The reassuring dependability that no matter what happens in the world, no matter what happens in our own lives, or in our country, or even on a global scale, the moon will experience a ‘new beginning’ every 28 ½ days. We depend upon it.

A Cycle That Never Deviates – Our Entire Lives

And then, with a precision and reliability that we simply cannot fathom being anything but what it is, the moon will proceed through her phases. Gradually waxing minute by minute, day by day, and thereby growing more insistent in her pull upon the waters of this planet (including each one of us, being mostly comprised of water ourselves).

Once reaching her apex of power and pull, bringing a sense of utter completion, the moon will bask in all her glory over us. Lighting our path so brightly, should we take a walk at night, that the shadows are as stark and well-defined as any might be in the full light of Inti Tayta (Father Sun).

And then of course she begins her retreat, once again, into hiding. As she begins to disappear, we are called upon to ask ourselves what it is we would like to stop hiding (from ourselves or others). It’s then, as we look forward to the ‘dark time’ of the new moon – and finally loosen our grip on how we think our lives are supposed to ‘go’ or how we wish they had gone over the past month and accept what is – that we embrace the exciting potential of a new start, a clean slate.

A Symbol of Hope

This unrelenting pattern of building and releasing and doing it again, and again, and again is a comfort to us, whether or not we pay attention to the moon.

For me, Mama Killa’s rhythmic waxing and waning is a symbol of hope. Each new moon gives me yet another opportunity to get things right or to do better ‘this’ time. Each one is a yardstick that can be held up to my life, giving me feedback on whether I’m making progress toward achieving my goals and dreams.

New Moon in Pisces

I am not anywhere near well-versed enough in astrology to have an opinion or even, really, a cursory grasp on the meaning of the new moon being in the sign of Pisces tonight. I can tell you that Pisces is the last sign of the natural zodiac, so it is the last hurrah. One might conclude, as a result, that today’s new moon could bring with it a huge set of metaphorical erasers. This represents a bigger cycle of endings and new beginnings than your average new moon.

And one last interesting twist to this new moon: Mercury goes retrograde today. For three weeks, Mercury will appear to our naked eyes, at least, to be moving ‘backwards.’ It won’t be actually moving backwards, as it is an optical illusion created by the movement and placement of the planets from our perspective here on Earth.

Mercury retrograde lasts approximately three weeks. This one begins on March 6^thand does not end until March 28^th.

Mercury retrograde is the perfect time to ‘re’ everything: retreat, review, rework, reflect – on our lives, our relationships, our projects and aspirations. It’s not usually a time to forge ahead. But it most certainly is a time to assess the progress we’re making toward achieving the things that matter most to us. (I think it also might be a time for me to get some Listening Retreats scheduled!)

The Dark Nights

So over the next three nights or so, when the moon is invisible because she’s gone dark and is actively hiding her light, when she is not reflecting any of the Sun’s rays, contemplate what you want to plant now. Given that we’ll also be experiencing the Spring equinox right around the fullest expression of the moon this month, it feels like that might be the first indication of how our seedlings are doing after two weeks of germination.

I don’t know about you, but I feel like the culmination – the fullness – of the moon coinciding with the Spring equinox seems exquisitely timed to create the greatest impact on all of us. My sense is that we are all building up to the arrival of Spring this year. It is going to bring change to all of us.

I’m going to bed now. I need to plant my seeds and contemplate how best I can nurture them into fruition.

(T- 996)

Marketing Myself – Day 114

Posted on March 6, 2019March 6, 2019 by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments

Tuvan Drum beside Cabin Creek; Photo: L. Weikel

Marketing Myself

I’ve come to the conclusion that I am the antithesis of a marketer. Or perhaps more accurately, I’m the antithesis of a self-promoter.

I make that distinction because I’m actually a pretty decent rainmaker for other people. If I find a provider of any service or product that I believe in, I will happily spread that news far and wide.

It gives me great pleasure to see people I believe in succeed and thrive. Which probably makes my reticence to speak up for myself seem odd to some people. (I know it literally frustrates the heck out of some of my friends – Renee Baribeau, author of Winds of Spirit, I’m looking at you.)

I Love Promoting Others – But Myself? Not So Much

And I suppose I’ve gotten a little better at it over the years. But admittedly, not good enough.

Some of you may be thinking I must be kidding. Particularly if you received my Hoot Alert this evening, once again announcing the Retreat I’m co-leading with Wendy Warner, M.D., this coming May, at Amadell retreat center in Luck, North Carolina.

Yes, I’ve written a post about it; and I’ve promoted that post on Facebook; I’ve now sent out a Hoot Alert, and I intend to re-post my Ruffled Feathers post about it on Instagram. (I admit I’ve been a bit slow on the uptake with Instagram. But I have succeeded in getting at least three or four posts situated correctly since getting started with IG.) I’m hopeful that one of these days it’s going to <<click>> for me, and I’ll no longer have to spend an extra 45 minutes trying to remember how to make it so people can click through to my blog.

I’m probably finding it easier to promote the co-produced Doctor/Shaman retreat precisely because Wendy is relying on me to get it out there, too.

Yikes.

I just looked at the time and it is rapidly approaching 1:00 a.m. Did I fall asleep at the keyboard? Sure seems like it!

So I guess I will leave it here. If any of you reading this would be kind enough to send a link to the post advertising the Doctor/Shaman Retreat at Amadell, I’d be really grateful. Or if it would be easier to just forward my Hoot Alert, feel free. Or if you know anyone who might be interested in bringing a shamanic perspective to their office, please give them the details of our upcoming event.

Thank you for anything you might choose to do for us!

(T- 997)

Electricity Restored, Awareness Heightened – Day 113

Posted on March 5, 2019 by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments

Aftermath: Still Ominous – Photo: L.Weikel

Electricity Restored and Awareness Heightened

I’m delighted to report that our electricity was restored at approximately 4:30 this afternoon.

The last time we lost our electricity for any significant amount of time was in 2012, after Hurricane Sandy, when it was out for something like ten days or so. What an awful, deeply uncomfortable ordeal. A tiny, insignificant taste, I realize, of what so many others have endured following tornadoes, wildfires, and hurricanes. But enough of a taste to leave a stark impression.

But during that profoundly uncomfortable and very chilly time, we had guests. Our dear friends, Karen Ward and John Cantwell, founders of Sli an Chroi (Path of the Heart) from Dublin, Ireland, were visiting us and presenting a wonderful retreat on Celtic shamanism and spirituality.

Asking Our Guests to Rough It

Karen and John were troopers throughout that experience in 2012. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, for them to ‘make do’ in our home without heat, lights, or running water. Nor did we yet have our fireplace installed (that came a mere two months later – lesson learned!), so we would sit briefly each night, swapping stories over candlelight before retiring to our respective bedrooms and the comfort of cuddling under piles of comforters!

Friends Come Through In a Big and Generous Way

At first we weren’t even sure if we would be able to follow through with offering the program, for we knew no one personally or commercially who had space that was not impacted by the electricity situation. Finally, one of my closest friends in the world offered to host our retreat in her living room – by the light and warmth of her gas fireplace. Janet and her daughters generously opened their doors and quite literally saved the day for all of us!

What a wonderful retreat it ended up being, too. Filled with magic and playfulness, wisdom and ancient insights, we spent the weekend reconnecting with our ancestors (Irish or not, it didn’t matter) in profound and meaningful ways.

Photo: L.Weikel

There are many aspects of our work together that weekend that I could write about here. And there’s a strong chance, too, that I’ll harvest ideas from those myriad experiences as we wend our way through the next 998 posts in my 1111 Devotion. But the one thing I want to focus upon this evening is yet another example of the power of words.

Naturally, a major focus of many of our conversations (of pretty much everyone, everywhere you went in our community) that long weekend centered upon the status of our electricity. It was not uncommon, if one were to simply grow quiet for a moment, to hear several conversations being carried on at once, each one of which was peppered with the phrases, ”We’ve lost our power;” “I have no power;” “How long will we have to be without power?” “When did you lose your power?” – and innumerable variations on that theme.

We’ve Lost our POWER?

It was our Irish visitors who called our attention to our flagrant disregard for the power of our words. In fact, they didn’t know what Karl and I were talking about when we picked them up at the airport and started babbling about our ‘lost power.’ That’s simply not the way a disruption in electrical service is described in Ireland. Ever. As a result, they were acutely aware of the precise words we were using to describe our situation, for they sounded so odd and curiously out of place.

And they noticed it even more when we gathered at Janet’s home for the retreat. They were astonished by how all these Americans were going on and on about having lost their power. They were appalled at our lack of precision with our vocabulary, and rightly called us out on it.

Precision is Important

Thus, since October of 2012, I know I, and my entire family, have been careful to exercise precision in our language when a situation such as last night’s occurs.

To be clear? Our electricity cut out last night. We did not ‘lose our power.’

Has paying attention to how we describe this situation made a tangible difference in our lives? Who’s to say? One thing I do know, however, is that this was and is a case of walking my talk.

I know the power of words. I have seen how the way we phrase our description of situations can have a remarkable impact upon our perception of experiences. And I have seen words, used often or forcefully enough, wield a great deal of power.

So I pass along this lesson from my Irish brother and sister on to you: Use your power well. And don’t ‘lose’ it indiscriminately!

Aftermath: Brilliant Sky – Photo: L.Weikel

(T- 998)

When We Become Saturated – Day 112

Posted on March 4, 2019October 10, 2019 by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

When We Become Saturated

Earlier today, I was sitting by my Sacred Tohickon, trying to ‘make effective use of my time.’ I’d brought my laptop with me, forgetting that I don’t have access to the internet when I’m at the creek.

How could I forget such an obvious and essential bit of information?

I think sometimes we forget things when we become saturated. At least I do. Saturated with thoughts, feelings, worries, to-do lists; internal chatter that runs the gamut from small anxieties to existential concerns.

And I have to wonder what internal trigger finally needs to get reached that pulls the emergency cord.

Perhaps it isn’t an internal trigger. Maybe it’s external. External – but not visible. Or at least not self-originating. And by that, I mean maybe we have guides or guardians who, when they see us approaching meltdown, pull the emergency cord on our behalf.

I do know that I chose Elk reversed today. So on some level, somebody (perhaps my own soul) was yanking on the cord that triggers the emergency brake. Indeed, I chose Elk reversed with Blue Heron underneath: Self Reflection.

The key word for Elk is “Stamina.” Thus, while Elk reversed can be interpreted a couple of different ways, it usually means (again, for me anyway) I’ve been burning the candle at both ends and I need to stop. I need to stop before circumstances knock me down.

Specifically, the words that jumped out at me from the Medicine Cards^®book are:

“If Elk has appeared in the reverse position, you may be stretching the rubber band to the breaking point. Be careful of undue stress levels, or you might just create an illness to force you to take a break.

(…)

In all cases, Elk is telling you to look at how you choose to create your present pathway, and how you intend to perpetuate it to reach your goal. Your best weapon is the same as Elk’s: to stop when you need to, to persist when you need to, and to allow room for change and exchange of energies.”

And as I said above, underneath my Elk reversed was Blue Heron, whose keyword is “Self-Reflection.”

The very first line of Blue Heron is as follows:

“Heron medicine is the power of knowing the self by discovering its gifts and facing its challenges.”

Facing My Challenges

I readily admit, one of my greatest challenges is learning how to take true quality time for myself. And I think that’s because it’s rarely ‘convenient’ to do so. And by convenient, I don’t necessarily mean ‘easy.’ But I do mean ‘it won’t make me feel like I’m selfishly taking time away from someone who does not have the luxury of choosing what they’re dealing with.’

For all my laughable travails with cars that flash the RT of D, or whose back ends come off in my hands, I feel profoundly grateful for the abundance of love, great health, and opportunity that I enjoy in my life.

And yet…I know I need to stop. I need to take a breather. I need to gather up my energy, consolidate it, and decide where I want to focus it next.

So – here’s the deal. For all that I just wrote above, I’m being challenged once again (quite literally) in this very moment:

The Gifts – and Challenges – of Sticky Wet Snow

I was going to write about how the gorgeous wet snow, which is piling up on all the branches in exquisite outlines of every crook and twig, is reinforcing within m the essential nature of stopping and consolidating myself and my energy. And I was going to include two beautiful photos I just took as I was standing on my porch.

But no. The electricity just went out. I can feel the cold seeping into the house – and this room in particular – already. And I am thwarted from uploading my photos as well as publishing this post in a timely fashion.

So I will take this time to honor my self and my allies. It’s time to step back from the grind and give myself permission to be tired. And as soon as I am able, I will reconnect with you, my precious readers, my fellow devotional travelers.

Wishing you peace – and the gift of self-reflection and understanding.

Night Snowfall -Photo: L.Weikel

(T- 999) P.S.: It’s been almost 13 hours now (1:03 p.m.) and I’m at a Starbucks. We still have no electricity at home. Hoping to have it restored by 8:00 p.m.

Entrances and Exits – Day 111

Posted on March 3, 2019March 3, 2019 by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

Entrances and Exits

I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes open.

It’s been a long day. And I just capped it off by watching the first two episodes of True Detective. I wanted to just lose myself in a story.

I don’t know why, but it’s left me unsettled.

Entering the Land of Three Digits

Am I really on my 111^thblog post? And is this the last day I have 1000 or more posts yet to write in my 1111 Devotion?

It feels surreal to think that I’ve written this many posts, day in and day out. I remember when it was a huge deal for me to have written seven in a row! And then later, I marveled at having written a whole month’s worth.

My whole attitude toward sharing my thoughts with you – the varied and partially unknown-to-me ‘you’ who are supporting this commitment by reading my words – has shifted a lot in the past three months. I’m still trying to figure out my rhythm. I’m still learning to trust my muse, my connection to some font of inspiration that suggests the subject of each night’s ponderings.

We’re All Exercising Forms of Devotion – to Each Other

I realize some nights I do better than others. And I’m grateful for your devotion to me. And to Karl.

Funny thing? I had a very uncommon Saturday session today. (Another reason I think I’m feeling a little hazy. I’m not sure what day it is.) But on this Day 111 of my 1111 Devotion, Karl was powerfully present. He showed up and his presence was palpable. Not only that, he was a huge support and healing presence.

I didn’t think of it at the time, but his timing was pretty darn cool.

He always did know how to make a dramatic entrance.

And exit.

(T-1000)

Reading List – Day 110

Posted on March 2, 2019 by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments

Top of my list: Masters of the Living Energy by Joan Parisi Wilcox

Reading List

Well, I have to tell you: Hawk was not finished with me yesterday.

But alas, I cannot tell you that story tonight because there’s been a snafu. I was supposed to pick someone up at the airport this evening – at 10:20 p.m., to be exact. And – funny story (not) – because I almost always run late, I made a point of getting to the airport at 10:00 p.m. I also, completely contrary to the fiber of my being, took the book I’m reading out of my bag and deliberately left it at home. I consciously decided that I would not have enough time to either read or write in my journal – so why carry them? Especially if it’s supposed to rain, sleet, and snow later?

So I didn’t. I figured I could ‘read my phone’ for the short wait.

10:20 arrived. And left.

10:30 arrived. And left.

10:40 arrived. And left.

I texted my charge: “Land yet?”

She responded: “OMG we had to go back to Detroit!!! We have to change planes.”

The Road to Hell

Clearly this was my fault. Every time I’m either early or on time – and especially if I have not brought a book or my journal – something like this happens. It is uncanny.

So…tick tock. I had to make a decision. I could see now that I would never get back to the house in time to write my post if I waited for the second flight attempt to arrive.

Consequently, I am home. Good thing, too. The plane is in the air now (I believe), so I need to make this quick, hit ‘publish,’ and drive back to the airport.

So I’m going to cheat. Well, not really. But it is convenient that a few of you inquired about the reading list I prepared for the class I spoke to yesterday. Here you go:

Recommended books:

Masters of the Living Energy– The Mystical World of the Q’ero of Peru– by Joan Parisi Wilcox
Andean Awakening– An Inca Guide to Mystical Peru– by Jorge Luis Delgado
The Hold Life Has– Coca and Cultural Identity in an Andean Community– by Catherine J. Allen
The Andean Codex– Adventures and Initiations Among the Peruvian Shamans– by J.E. Williams
Initiation– A Woman’s Spiritual Adventure in the Heart of the Andes– by Elizabeth B. Jenkins
Secrets of the Ancient Incas– A Modern Approach to Ancient Ritual and Practice– by Michael Peter Langevin
The Andean Cosmovision– A Path for Exploring Profound Aspects of Ourselves, Nature, and the Cosmos– by Oakley E. Gordon
Peruvian Shamanism– the Pachakuti Mesa– by Matthew Magee
Eduardo El Curandero– The Words of a Peruvian Healer– by Eduardo Calderon, Richard Cowan, Douglas Sharon and F. Kaye Sharon
Rituals of Respect– The Secret of Survival in the High Peruvian Andes– by Inge Bolin

I need to skedaddle. And I need to drive carefully (meaning not like a bat out of hell). Because of course, as I drove home from the airport earlier, the ‘winter weather advisory’ weather had begun in earnest.