I have exactly eighteen minutes to write a post tonight. Wow – I miraculously manifested an entire ten extra minutes to fulfill my commitment, my Act of Power.
Breathe, Lisa.
While the weather reports suggested that we might experience a flurry of storms passing through today, we escaped unscathed. The day unfolded and then folded again – just like last night – with time accelerating in some moments and then slowing in others, to a point that allowed for us to have more extensive experiences in fifteen minutes than many might have in a day and a half.
I actually managed to get more written than might appear at the moment because I just deleted two full paragraphs.
I deleted them because they didn’t do justice to what I’m feeling in this moment, and they sort of sounded cliché. So I’d rather ascribe to the ‘less is more’ attitude and leave you with a taste of the beauty we’re working in.
The Vista at Amadell – LR Day One – Photo: L. Weikel
Listening Retreat Day One
I have exactly eight minutes to write a post this evening.
This is what happens when a Listening Retreat’s magic begins. Time folds in on itself.
We begin listening to the call of the voice that resides deep within. Deep, deep within. And we realize we may recognize that voice – and maybe its message is conveying a mystery – but it’s a mystery whose key lies solely within our own grasp.
The question is: are we willing? Are we willing to discover what our souls yearn for us to remember about our very own selves?
I think we are.
And I think this group is in for some seriously amazing experiences.
I’m sitting here on my bed in North Carolina, wistfully thinking about my husband. It’s now past midnight and that means it’s his birthday.
I don’t like being away from Karl on his birthday.
Some might argue that it’s just another ‘day in the life.’ But I like to make a big deal out of and celebrate the acquisition of another year of experience under our belts. It’s a measurement. A milestone.
Some years are harder to navigate than others. Some are so delicious that we never want them to end. Some slip by and feel as though they only just started, when we suddenly turn around and they’re over.
All I can say is, I’m grateful to have this man in my life. He’s my partner; my best friend.
We’ve grown together in ways I’m sure neither of us could have imagined when we met 42 years ago next month, not least being the magic we’ve encountered exploring the perspective on life I’m sharing with others this weekend at this Listening Retreat.
I’ll miss him at the retreat this weekend. He’s always been there to hold space with me, to sit across the circle and meet my gaze, to share a smile when I needed it most.
It’s important to me that he know how much I wish he was here. And how happy I am that he’s made it through another solar return.
Happy birthday, my love.
*Something only Bregma House people will really ‘get.’
This is my first visit to North Carolina, to the Smoky Mountains, to Amadellin August. So I wasn’t sure what to expect.
What kinds of insects would I encounter? Are there ticks? A lot of mosquitoes? Would crickets play a big part on my private mountain playlist?
I knew for sure that lightning bugs are prevalent here – at least in late May/early June. In fact, this area is world-renowned for its specific strain of lightning bug: the synchronous ones.
Other than that, though, I did not know whether I would share the night, especially with familiar sounds, new ones, or – perhaps – utter silence.
Double Bonus – Lightning Bugs AND Katydids
As the night wears on and I’m welcomed back quite palpably by the Spirits of this Place (as well as the humans, I’m grateful to say), I’m given even more reason to love this place: Katydids!
Nothing says late summer to me more than the scratchy, insistent accusation late into the night by these wonderful insects: “Katydid!” Just the other night, as Karl and I were walking about half an hour after sunset, I wondered if katydids live in North Carolina – or specifically, in the mountains down here.
I’m delighted to report that katydids are full-fledged participants in the Amadell experience. Trust me: any yearning on my part for my Pennsylvania night chatter is fully slaked as I sit here writing with my windows open.
Indeed, I shall be lulled to sleep tonight by their comforting, critcheting calls.
Oh man. I know I’m gonna pay for this one way or another. But the piper will almost certainly collect his due in the most obvious way: levying a hefty surcharge on my checked bag.
It’s harder than I thought it would be, preparing for a Listening Retreat that’s far away from my home. I think I’ve known, in the back of my head, that this day would come. But it’s rough.
My First True “Away” Game
My evening’s angst issues from the fact that all my other Listening Retreats have taken place within a 20 miles radius of my home. It’s been eminently convenient. Too much so, I fear.
I’ve always made sure to bring a plethora of divinatory decks and books for my ‘retreaters’ to play with and peruse. I’m a huge advocate of giving myself and others access to cool stuff that entices us to steal some time away from everything and everybody and just indulge in…fun.
So it’s been excruciating for me to have to winnow my resources. As it is, all of you who’ve been with me through these past 268 days can take three guesses (and the first two don’t count) on what is the primary source of weight in my single bag-to-be-checked. You guessed it!
Books and Decks
Yup, books and various card decks that I want to share with my retreaters. And while I know that my hosts at Amadell are avid collectors themselves (having shared many a retreat with me through the years, they know ‘the good stuff’), I’m feeling naked. I’m realizing how much anxiety I quell within by having the luxury of telling myself, “I can always run home and get that book if I need it.”
Not this time!
And so it is I am forced to exercise some discernment. Some discipline. Although…I’m thinking that tomorrow’s reckoning with the airline when I check my bag is going to expose my grievous lack of discipline. Or at least the sad truth that I could’ve exercised a whole lot more.
The bottom line is simply my excitement to experience a Listening Retreat in a whole new venue. Yes, I’ve been to Amadell before (and all of you know first hand how much I love it) – but never specifically for a Listening Retreat.
Spirits of the Land Come Forward
And it always seems to me that during a Listening Retreat, no matter where I’ve held them, the Spirits of the Land we’re on reveal themselves in fascinating ways.
Thus, as I packed more and more goodies into my suitcase all day today, I’ve actually known, deep down, that They – the Spirits of the Land – will be the stars of the show. They will be the ones who show up and ask for a willing ear.
My Security Blanket
The books won’t matter. Nor will the decks. What will matter is the willingness of the people who are attending this retreat. Their willingness to trust my suggestions enough to witness the magic.
Ah yes. Just admitting all of this has led me to the realization that the contents of my suitcase are simply my security blanket. (Even if it ends up being an expensive one, when they weigh it.)
The magic of every Listening Retreat is in the land itself. I just need to get them there. The rest will take care of itself.
I have so many thoughts and feeling coursing through me.
On the one hand, I feel tremendous despair over the state of our country at the moment – actually, the state of our world at the moment. The fear. The hatred of the ‘other.’ I despair that so many feel such profound helplessness – and the rage over feeling helpless – in a country of purported opportunity. I am sickened by the blame being deliberately stoked by those who hold the greatest power – and privilege.
On the other hand, I sense a sea change. I know, I know: it’s been thought before, especially when innocents, little kids, were slaughtered at Sandy Hook. Or when high schoolers were mowed down in Parkland and their surviving classmates passionately and eloquently demanded change.
Something Feels Different This Time
But this time, perhaps because the racism in the White House, as it’s being leveled against duly elected Congressional Representatives and so blatantly being trumpeted against entire American cities and their inhabitants, is so obvious that the hearts of so many of us are saying, “Enough.”
I don’t know what feels different this time, but something does.
Needed to be shed (Cicada shell covered in mud) – Photo: L. Weikel
The insanity has reached a tipping point. The old ways simply must be shed.
Good people – who I truly believe are the vast majority of our country – are waking up to the horror and banding together. We are beginning to realize that it really does start with each and every one of us taking stock of our truth, taking stock of our lives and saying, “If I don’t call it out, who will?”
If I Don’t Call It Out, Who Will?
All viewpoints do not demand nor deserve equal time. All arguments do not demand nor deserve to be accorded respect. Vapid talking points need to be treated as such. Idiotic assertions need to be dismissed for their utter lack of merit. Immoral, hateful rhetoric needs to be deemed utterly unacceptable. Cruelty needs to be shut down.
And we don’t need to use cruelty to fight cruelty, either. But we do need to stand firm. We need to stop attempting to persuade when there is an utter lack of shared facts, when there is a refusal to acknowledge even the most basic tenets of a shared reality.
We can be kind; but we must say no. And we must disarm the desperate.
Closed in fear? – Photo: L. Weikel
We Know the Facts
There is incontrovertible evidence that weapons of war – automatic and semi-automatic guns with high capacity magazines – mow people down. The only use these weapons have is hunting humans.
We must stop pandering to those who would argue that the sun revolves around the Earth – and would cite a conspiracy theory to make their case that it is so. For they are shameless. They will argue anything to confuse, to obfuscate, to claim victimhood. They are the same people who argue that “guns do not kill” (as if anyone is saying that guns shoot themselves) in order to thwart any meaningful regulation. It’s specious and astoundingly tone deaf, and blind, and disrespectful to all those who’ve suffered loss as a result of these insane attacks.
Gradually opening up – Photo: L. Weikel
We Must Take Our Cue From the Caterpillars
It’s time for us to take our cue from the caterpillars. We need to utterly and completely transform. We must go within, engage in collective self-reflection, and transform. We need to realize our systemic racism, the lies we’ve been telling ourselves as a society since our nation was first formed.
And we need to have the courage to just face it. We must acknowledge the depth of our shame in treating other human beings as ‘less than.’ And that starts with admitting the systemic obliteration of the people who lived on this land for thousands of years before Europeans even arrived or Africans were forced to relocate to these shores.
NO ONE wants to be exploited. NO ONE wants to be judged by superficial standards (the color of our eyes, the shade of our skin, the accent of our first language). NO ONE (except for perhaps the most damaged among us) wants to succeed simply to screw someone else over.
We must drop the fear. We must drop the rage. We absolutely must LEARN TO LISTEN to the feelings of others – and cultivate compassion and empathy for ourselves and each other.
We can do this. The vast majority of us already know this is possible in our hearts.
Tonight I want to alert you to an absolutely golden opportunity that you should. not. miss.
Beginning Sunday, September 1st, my great friend and world-class numerologist, Alison Baughman, will be starting her comprehensive, five week Numerology Course. For five straight weeks, from 6:00 p.m. – 8:00 p.m. EST every Sunday, you will learn an amazing amount of information on numerology that will stand you in good stead, regardless of whether you use it for yourself or find that you want to dip into this field with an even greater commitment. (And you just might be surprised by how much all of this resonates with you!)
As I’ve mentioned in other posts, Alison knows her numbers. She knows her stuff and she is a great teacher. And this is a golden opportunity (and perhaps the last) to study with her first-hand.
Personally, I know she’s on a quest to write some additional books which, given her wry sense of humor and no-nonsense style, could be hilarious. (The books, not the quest – although the quest could end up being amusing in its own right.)
I’d by lying if I didn’t admit that it freaks me out a bit when I see Alison state things starkly, like, “This could be my last offering of this class.” That’s because she does not mess around. And she does not make comments like this cavalierly.
Photo: jenthejd.com
Believe Her When She Says, “This May Be it”
I didn’t believe it when she announced a few years ago that she was going to stop doing private readings for people. The reason I didn’t believe it was because her readings are a-m-a-z-i-n-g.
I’ve listened to mine over and over, probably at least a dozen times, as well as the periodic updates I was lucky enough to have with her when I needed to know ‘what was going on’ in my life ‘by the numbers.’
It just didn’t seem possible to me that someone with such an extraordinary gift could mean it when she announced she would be stepping away from it. But she did. And she has.
Which is why I feel it is incumbent upon me to highly recommend you take her course in September. It’s an opportunity that you could easily regret if you don’t take action now. I can tell you unequivocally: I intend to take the course. Heck, every time I listen to my readings with Alison, I learn a ton. (And you know I enjoy bringing into my posts at least some of what I know just by hanging around the woman.)
Yes, I’m going to take the course – and you should, too.
Lastly: Don’t Forget to Retreat…and Listen
Finally, next week at this time I will have wrapped my first Listening Retreat at Amadell. If you’re still flirting with the idea of allowing yourself the exquisite gift of disconnecting with the outside world and spending time with yourself, Mother Nature, and an amazing group of like-minded people (with whom you’ll probably remain friends for who knows how long – forever?), then jump off the cliff. Take the plunge. Come. To. Amadell.
Join us! $395 for the weekend (program plus meals), with $50/ night lodging in absolutely adorable, well-appointed rooms. Email me (lisa@owlmedicine.com) to register, and contact events@amadell.org to reserve your room.
There’s so much to learn and experience in life. These two experiences are not to be missed and will give you skills you’ll use forever!
No, I didn’t suss out the message being brought to me by Swan and Skunk. Not today, anyway. Not yet.
Rather than pondering that mystery, I became distracted by an unexpected sighting as I was sitting, yet again, by the creek. In fact, I was sitting in exactly the same spot I’d been sitting days ago when the Golden Vinyl Swan became marooned before me.
I don’t even know how I initially spotted it, to be honest. It’s quite unobtrusive, when viewed from afar. In fact, the leaves of the weeds it was climbing hid it from view from many angles. I just happened to see it because of the unique perspective I had, sitting where I was.
Greater My Willingness, Better the Shots
I think what was coolest about this distraction was how my willingness to get closer and closer to my subject kept yielding better and better photos.
The photo I placed at the top of this post was, in my estimation, decent enough. More than decent, in fact! I was pleased by how sharp the shot was and how lovely my caterpillar friend appeared.
Perspective – Photo: L. Weikel
Then I realized all at once that this caterpillar was very unlikely to move quickly. I might actually not only get closer but also zoom in to discover even more loveliness.
And so it came to pass.
I absolutely love my iPhone and the quality of photos I’m able to take with it.
From my vantage point, all I saw was the form of a caterpillar walking up the stalk of a rather large wildflower. Had I not undertaken an impromptu ‘study’ of this leaf muncher, I never would have had the opportunity to revel in its beauty – or share it with all of you.
The whole experience of this discovery made my afternoon. Even if it did distract me from contemplating the Swan/Skunk mystery. Perhaps the understanding of that will reveal itself tomorrow.
Anyone who makes an effort to pick Medicine Cards®on a regular basis knows how odd – but almost always significant – it is to go weeks or months or perhaps even longer without choosing a particular card, only to suddenly begin doing so. And it’s even weirder when you start choosing that card repeatedly, whether it be ‘on the top’ (meaning it’s the primary card you chose) or ‘on the bottom’ (meaning it’s literally the card on the bottom of the deck no matter where in the deck you chose your ‘main’ card from). The ‘bottom’ card is used to add context or sometimes a hint or clue as to what area in your life to which the main card might apply.
Well, over the past week, I chose Swan for the first time in a very, very long time. Specifically, the first time, I chose Swan/Weasel. Then I chose it again today. Swan/Skunk.
Two days before the first time I chose Swan (six days ago), Skunk started showing up, too. Indeed, Skunk showed up two days before Swan appeared, then for two days running a few days later, then one last time again – today.
My apologies if this seems a bit ‘in the weeds.’ My point is to show that Swan has not been an integral player in my life for a very long time, nor has Skunk – but now they’re both showing up. And I think I better pay attention. So I do…
Spirit’s Not So Sure
I assert (to myself, to Spirit) that I’m paying attention; I’m ‘all good,’ and indeed, I’m doing just fine thank you very much.
Yes, hmm. Swan has shown up in my life. OK. I’m supposed to ‘trust’ and ‘surrender’ – perhaps even literally journey for myself (as opposed to all the journeying I do on behalf of clients), in order to determine what my ‘next steps’ are.
I wrote about it a bit in my journal. But I’ll confess: I did not write much. I was sort of blowing it off; thinking I knew what it was driving at. Assuming. Indeed, I was acting as if I knew, at least superficially, what message Swan was bringing me.
Smack Upside the Head
Imagine my surprise, then, the other day, when I was sitting by the creek writing in my journal, when the following vision appeared before my eyes:
Special Delivery Messenger? – Photo: L. Weikel
I’ll be honest: this felt pretty freaking momentous. It felt playful – but insistent. After all, in some ways, a big blow-up golden Swan floating into my life was even more startling and clearly a message than had a regular, full-feathered Swan made an appearance.
Nevertheless (I’ll admit it), I blew that off, too. Well. Not entirely. I took a photo of it. I wrote about it in my journal. But I didn’t sit with it in all seriousness. I didn’t truly reflect on its meaning.
Which Brings Me To Today
Yet again, I chose Swan/Skunk today. These two archetypal energies have been hanging around me now for about two good weeks. Slipping in and out of my daily picks, flirting with my consciousness, floating down the Tohickon in real life and marooning itself on a rock right in front of where I was sitting and writing.
Yeah. I’m thinking there’s a message Spirit wants me to pay attention to and receive. Perhaps, if I’m diligent, I’ll figure it out tomorrow.
It feels like it’s been forever since Karl and I had a chance to take one of our walks. But we managed to take one this evening. In fact, we went around twice, just for good measure. Along the way, we picked up some cool treasures from our walk.
The first discovery was this greatly intact butterfly. When I discover butterflies that are fully intact, I assume (rightly or wrongly), that it’s been hit by a car. Too many times, I’ve been driving along and suddenly see a butterfly, flying in a characteristically loop-the-loop flight pattern, waft out into the path of my car. Often it’s too late or too difficult to avoid hitting it; and all I can do it hope that the air current passing over my car will buffer the delicate one from slamming into my windshield.
Sometimes we get lucky; sometimes we don’t.
I’m afraid that’s probably what happened to this lovely one, which I found on the side of the gravel road near High Rocks. It’s too intact. It obviously wasn’t killed by anything that tried to eat it.
A Surprise Peeking Out of the Mud
Later in our walk, I noticed the Township road crew had recently dredged out along the side of the road. With a combination of scraping and scooping, they cleaned up the piles of mud and debris that have accrued as a result of the flash flood-inducing rains. The sides of the road have been getting pretty full lately, to be honest.
Something bright and pretty caught my eye, flashing a smile at me from the muck left behind. What a pretty mushroom! I was struck by how bright a color it is, and even more so when I got up close and saw the bright yellow outline around its cap.
I’m trusting one of you will fill me in on precisely what kind of a mushroom this is.
Photo: L. Weikel
Frog But No Photo
I also found a dead frog, but alas, I did not take its photo. Truth be told, Sheila found the half-dessicated frog while taking a pit stop to add her scent to the neighbor’s flower bed. I saw her suddenly shaking her head in the characteristic fashion she employs when she’s trying really hard to swallow whole some disgusting tidbit before having to “drop it!” when we realize what she’s doing.
I declined to photograph the frog. It was not particularly flattering. But that makes me think of another frog I photographed along that same route quite some time ago. I’ll see if I can find it and will post it here, too.
Woman-Frog – Photo: L. Weikel
Success!
Tell me you don’t see the woman with upraised arms?!?
Treasures from our walks. We’re so incredibly lucky to live here.
