Month: November 2019

Spontaneous Pick – Day 373

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Jaguar Jet – Photo: L. Weikel

Spontaneous Pick

Man, I hate it when I sit down to begin writing my post for the evening and I struggle to keep my eyes open and my head from slumping into my chest.

Clearly, this will be a short post.

Jaguar

I want to share with you the cool airplane I saw today when mine pulled into its gate. It felt particularly significant as a message, given that I’d not had a chance to pick my Medicine Cards* this morning.

Being confronted by such a direct and obvious image of one of these ‘Big Cats’ encouraged me to be mindful today of acting in a manner that promotes integrity and encourages impeccable behavior.

Walking and Eating

I felt Jaguar was looking me square in the eye and encouraging me to once again re-commit to my walking routine again. I thus resumed with a four mile constitutional late this afternoon. It felt refreshing and invigorating at the time – but I do believe it may be contributing to my falling asleep sitting up this evening.

Another aspect of my life in which I need to apply some integrity and impeccability is my eating habits. It’s time to get back to listening to my body.

Writing

It’s also time to sit quietly with my journal (and laptop) and figure out where all of this – or that – is going. It just feels like time.

Other Applications?

Perhaps this spontaneous pick of Jaguar greeted me this morning so I could examine the myriad ways in which integrity and impeccability can be reintroduced into my world.

Reflecting on where Jaguar wants me to embrace its attributes is a wonderful way for me to spend tomorrow’s end of Mercury retrograde (“Mercury going direct”). It just feels right.

*affiliate link

(T-738)

What’s Next – Day 372

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Light on the Path – Photo: L. Weikel

What’s Next

It’s pretty common, I think, for most of us to want to know ‘what’s next.’ And that applies to little things in life as well as some of the bigger ones; from our next meal to our next career move.

My feeling, though, is that far too many people spend so much time planning for the future that they miss out on much of the magic of the present. For instance, it’s not uncommon for many people to start planning their ‘next’ vacation before they’ve even concluded their current one.

It’s almost as if we prefer to imagine how our lives could be than actually live them.

We are a planning society. From Day-Timers to Google Calendars we’re surrounded by tools that can help us plan what’s next – and when we’ll do it.

Planning, Planning, Planning

I’m not a big fan of planning; at least, not planning down to the littlest detail. While I recognize this can be a source of some irritation for those around me, I’ve found that, for the most part, I’ve developed a fairly sophisticated sense of what truly needs to be planned and what can be improvised or decided on the fly.

Of course, I understand its purpose. Society runs a lot smoother when we have schedules and plans.

And I’m not categorically averse to all planning. I just balk when it feels as though there’s an effort being made to marshal life into predictable outcomes when we actually have no freaking clue as to how things are really going to unfold.

It’s when we try to exercise control over what we simply cannot know (not yet, at least) that I choose not to participate.

I’m Being Vague

I feel like I’m being far more vague than I mean to be in writing this post. It’s as if the idea for it is at the tip of my brain and yet it’s just out of reach.

The germ for this post started the other night when I was out walking after writing my post about the Leonid meteor shower, which was – in my estimation – a dud this year. I was walking to a clearing where I hoped to experience an abundance of shooting stars. In order to get to this clearing, I had to walk through the woods.

Crossing a spring – Photo: L. Weikel

Only a Few Feet Ahead of Me

As I made my way along the leaf strewn dirt path through the woods, I held a small light in my hand that I shone downward as surreptitiously as possible. I didn’t want to disturb the other creatures in the forest as I ventured toward my destination. Given that I was keeping the light very low and tight, I was only illuminating about a yard ahead of myself at any given time.

Naturally, this reminded me of the saying that we really only need to have the path illuminated for us one stepping stone at a time. Indeed, as I ruminated on this thought, I came to a point in the path when I was literally hopping from stone to stone.

Trust

The whole point of that saying (or whatever it’s called) is to instill in us the understanding that long-range planning is good as far as setting a course or pointing ourselves in the right direction. But long range planning, ultimately, does little to get us from point A to point B.

In actuality, we need only see ahead of ourselves just enough to take the next step and, in so doing, trust that the next one will appear.

It’s in trusting that our path is unfolding in the present moment that we pull our future toward us and answer the question, ‘What’s next?’ step by step.

And isn’t that the fun of it all?

What’s next? – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-739)

This and That – Day 371

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

 

This and That

I’m not feeling an abundance of inspiration this evening, so I’m just going to offer these two snippets:

First is that I deliberately wrote and published my post earlier than usual last night because I wanted to go outside and watch the Leonids I’d just written about streak across the sky. Alas, I saw one meteor.

One.

Yes, I was disappointed. And I continue to be bummed this evening for the same reason. Actually, tonight’s even worse. I didn’t see even one single meteor tonight. The plus side is that I gave myself the opportunity to walk through the woods in the dark – twice – and then nestle myself on a grassy embankment that affords an enormous view of the night sky.

Double bonus? It was relatively mild out (especially compared to the bitter cold and then snow of last week).

But again – only managed to catch one shooting star.

A PSA

On a totally different topic, I thought I’d pass along a snippet of information I discovered today that just might save someone a lot of money and probably a ton of hassle. And I feel this is particularly relevant now that the holidays are approaching.

For anyone who flies anywhere these days, you know how much of a relief it can be when you’ve finally made it through TSA, repacked all your stuff, stopped to score another drink to quench your dehydrated soul as a result of all the TSA hassle, and found your gate. Only then do you realize that your phone’s battery is precariously in the red.

Cue the angels: you hear their bountiful chorus as you spot one of those really convenient ‘free charging kiosks’ that are popping up all over the place inside airports.

STOP RIGHT THERE!

Don’t give in to the temptation! Step away from the charging station!

Seriously, I just saw this article this evening before I sat down to write and it occurs to me that this is an important thing for people to know. What a scam.

Notice that they suggest taking your own charging cable to plug directly into a wall socket. Or alternatively, bringing along a portable charging brick.

I guess the primary lesson is: Don’t be fooled. And the secondary lesson is: be prepared to charge your own battery. Don’t rely on the airport to provide you with a ‘safe space.’

As I said, not the most inspired post. But I’m sleepy, and I can’t believe it’s the 16thof November already. Thanksgiving is around the corner. 2020 is barreling toward us like a herd of bison.

We need to be vigilant, especially when we travel.

Finally

Luckily for all of us (depending upon your perspective, I guess), there will be yet another opportunity for us to turn our faces heavenward this week. So if your search for Leonids was as fruitless as mine, take heart. I’ll be writing about our next chance in a couple days.

(T-740)

Leonid Alert – Day 370

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Photo – travelandleisure.com

Leonid Alert

In case you didn’t realize it, the Leonid meteor showers will be taking place this weekend (Saturday and Sunday evening, November 16-17th, 2019). Had I realized it before this evening, I would’ve written this post last night. As it is, this won’t get automatically sent until 1:00 a.m., which I suppose could still work to provide a heads up for some of you.

When I first began this 1111 Devotion, I didn’t imagine my posts becoming a harbinger of meteor showers, but that’s apparently something that’s evolving out of this practice. I’ve written about the Delta Aquarids, Capricornids, and ‘advertised’ the Perseids. And now the Leonids.

I’m guessing it’s because looking up, increasing our awareness of the cosmos, promoting our realization that we inhabit an incredibly vast universe (and even that – my use of the singular ‘universe’ – feels limited) all feel deeply important to me. It feels important that we earnestly begin expanding our awareness of ‘reality’ (even more accurately, realities) sooner rather than later.

And That’s Just the Physical…

It’s amusing, I guess, that I consider watching the skies for ‘shooting stars’ to somehow be a gateway for us to consider other realities. Why would this be so, when they’re clearly part and parcel of this shared physical reality?

I guess I’m enamored with meteor showers because they have the ability to both confirm the physical fact that chunks of debris (from exploded planets and massive ice chunks and who knows what else) careen through space and burn to a cinder when slamming into our atmosphere – and also remind our spirits that we can experience astonished delight by simply witnessing a hoped-for but totally unpredictable point of light streak through the sky above our heads.

Why I Rant

I was out walking in the dark this evening, weaving my way along the stones and across the logs traversing the springs that bubble up along the path. The trees, having only recently lost their leaves, looked a bit naked in stark relief against the midnight blue of the star strewn sky.

But their nakedness allowed me to look up and actually see the bazillions of stars that are visible in places where light pollution barely exists. My heart cannot help but expand beyond all boundaries when realizing I’m staring into the Milky Way galaxy from my single little spot on Mother Earth.

When I look up and feel that vast sense of expansion, I yearn for everyone to stop what they’re doing and look up. I yearn for everyone to turn off the lights and look up. I yearn for everyone on Earth to stop for a moment and remember there’s so incredibly much more to life than what occupies most of our minds and consumes most of our thoughts.

Indulge the Magic

I’ve written about a couple different meteor events, but this is my first post about the Leonids. So tonight or tomorrow night, around or after midnight, turn off your lights. Go outside if weather permits and, if possible, spread out a blanket and allow yourself the luxury of both connecting your back (literally) to Mother Earth and your spirit to some magic.

(T-741)

Lightning Strikes Twice – Day 369

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments

 

Lightning Strikes Twice

It’s the mountain.

There’s something in the water.

It’s the Nature Beings who inhabit this place.

Miraculous

Whatever it is, it’s miraculous.

I’m back in the wilds of the Blue Ridge Mountains in western North Carolina, at Amadell, and magic is unquestionably afoot. Remember my first astonishing attempt at painting back in August?

How else to explain the astonishing transformation of a blank canvas to this:

Step 1 – Photo: L. Weikel

To this:

Step 2 – Photo: L. Weikel

To this:

Step 3 – Photo: L. Weikel

To this:

Step 4 – Photo: L. Weikel

To this:

Step 5 – Photo: L. Weikel

To this:

Step 6 – Photo: L. Weikel

To the final product, which you see as the main photo of this post, all in the span of about 4.5 hours?

It’s the Teacher

I’m convinced I could not create in this manner if I were not here where I am and if I didn’t have my friend Luz standing beside me, painting, cajoling, giving me hints, and encouraging me every step of the way.

If you want to feel a startling sense of accomplishment and take a blasting cap to your creativity, come to Amadell and book yourself some Luz time.

You will be a-m-a-z-e-d.

(T-742)

Looking Up At Night – Day 368

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments

 

Looking Up At Night

If you’ve been reading my posts even sporadically and happened to catch a few I wrote when a celestial event was taking place, you know I relish looking up into the night sky.

I’ve written about a variety of meteor showers, eclipses, and comets, among other phenomena. And a crucial aspect of witnessing these events comes down to the ability to look up into the night sky and see.

Living in the Country

Most people would look at where we live and assume that we have spectacular views of the night sky because we live ‘in the country.’ Sadly, however, ‘living in the country,’ at least when it comes to the corridor between Washington D.C. and Boston, Massachusetts, does not translate to darkness at night.

In fact, and here’s a confession: I’m incredibly frustrated with a couple of neighbors who’ve moved into our area over the past couple of years. Both sets of new owners purchased homes that were at least 150 years old and sat on a nice amount of acreage.

One property is on our road, quite close to our home. We live in what used to be referred to on historical maps as a hamlet – essentially consisting of a half dozen or so houses. We do not have street lights. We live in the country. That is an essential part of the beauty of where we live.

Lack of Awareness

Thus, it is unbelievably irritating that people have moved in a few houses away from us and decided it was a great idea to hang several strings of bright light bulbs extending from their house to their barn, lighting up the entire ‘neighborhood.’ Even more irritating is the fact that they keep them on all night.

At first we thought this was just some decorative activity because it was approaching Thanksgiving. We chalked it up to a little ‘being afraid of the novelty of living in the country’ pre-holiday lighting. But it never ended. They never took those lights down. The lights never get turned off (at night).

When I went outside to look at the Leonids or Orionids, I had to either drive a mile or so in order to escape the glare of the neighbors’ lights or find a place that was shielded by structures from the glare. When we took a walk after a heavy snowfall and wanted to look up into the pristine sky and witness the moon glistening off the icy crust, we were treated to lights instead.

Lighting Up the Countryside

The other example of neighborly infliction of light pollution is a farm that was purchased by people who only live at the premises part time, but have installed an brilliant, glaring spotlight on their barn that blasts light in all directions. The light is literally blinding, and is made worse by the fact that the house and barn sit atop a wonderfully prominent hill that used to be a choice spot to witness the constellations.

Now we literally have to shield our eyes if we take a walk once the sun has set. It is incredibly upsetting every single time we walk up that hill (on our usual 2.2 mile walkabout – although it’s also on the longer 4 mile trek as well). It’s brighter than having a car bearing down on us. And the road upon which we’re walking is probably 150 yards from the barn – that’s how huge a blast of light is being emitted from this light.

Light Pollution

I’m reminded of this pollution and how upsetting it is that people move into the country, where we’ve kept lights at a minimum on purpose because of this article that just appeared the other day. Light pollution hurts all of us.

We need to be able to see the stars at night. As mentioned in the article, we used to be able to see over 2500 stars at night. Now, many people in Europe and the United States are lucky to be able to see a few hundred with the naked eye. And that’s because of light pollution.

As I contemplated this situation yet again this evening and read this most recent article again, I checked out one of the organizations mentioned: the International Dark Sky Association. I’m seriously contemplating becoming involved with this organization to see if I might craft a strategy to appeal to our neighbors and ask them to not only reconsider the impact of their ‘lighting up the night,’ but also contemplate the gifts and benefits to all of us of embracing the dark.

It’s Not Just Hurting Us Humans

As the article points out, it’s not just humans who are affected by the inundation of our world by light (and LED lights making things even worse). All nocturnal creatures are suffering from our insensitivity to the impact of too much light at night.

Just one fascinating fact is the incredible number of birds that suffer unintended and unexpected consequences as a result of urban and suburban lighting. Many migrating birds are thrown off course or run into buildings and windows as a result being blinded by lights. You can read more about this issue here.

Mountain Awe

I guess I’m particularly sensitive to this topic because of the stunning beauty I witnessed just the other night.  I walked outside at 4:30 a.m. and looked up. I’m about 4,000 feet above sea level, high in the Appalachians. When I looked up into the unpolluted night sky, I felt my entire being open up to the enormity of the Universe. To the core of my being, I felt utterly expansive and at the same time utterly humble in my insignificance.

I cannot help but feel that everyone would benefit from experiencing such a profound sense of awe on a more frequent basis. We all deserve to see the Milky Way. Especially since so many have never experienced it ever.

(T-743)

Organic Inclusivity – Day 367

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Snowy Mountainside – Photo: L. Weikel

Organic Inclusivity

I was going to write about something completely different this evening; something I can write about any day, really.

I even had the photo I was going to use all teed up and ready to go.

And then, just as I was getting ready to write my post for tonight, I noticed and clicked on something posted on FaceBook regarding the start of the impeachment proceedings today.

News Fast

I’m not in my normal habitat at the moment, which means that I’m not engaging in my usual indulgence of – I’ll admit it – watching what Karl and I euphemistically call ‘politi-trash.’ That’s how we refer to the couple of politically-oriented news shows we usually watch each evening. Nicolle Wallace (Deadline: White House) and Rachel Maddow (The Rachel Maddow Show) being our favorites, with Ari Melber (The Beat) and Chris Hayes (All In) thrown in occasionally.

Being a person who feels it’s my responsibility to stay aware, engaged, and apprised of what’s going on in our country and our government, this really is a sort of ‘news fast,’ and I’m enduring it at what I have to say is a most inopportune time. I am keenly interested in what is happening in Washington D.C. at the moment, and I feel the entire process is of the utmost importance to the integrity and future of our country.

Coincidence?

Since I don’t believe in random coincidence, I can only suspect that I’m here, in a place in which I’ll essentially be forced to undergo a ‘news fast’ for the next few days, for a reason. Yes, I’ll be missing witnessing history. But at the same time, I doubt it’ll be over by the time I return home.

Which leads me to the clip that snagged my attention this evening and about which I chose to make the center of this post: the House blessing.

I found myself listening to this ‘Guest Chaplain,’ Southern Tewa, Isleta Pueblo of New Mexico native Verna Teller, open these impeachment proceedings asking for a blessing on those representing all of us that was wonderfully inclusive and so organic that it brought tears to my eyes.

If you didn’t get a chance to witness it, here’s one minute and forty seconds well worth your while.

Aho Mitakuyeoasin (We are all related.)

(T-744)

Triple Whammy – Day 366

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

 

Triple Whammy

This is going to be quick – provided it gets posted at all.

It’s going to be quick because I’ve been struggling for over an hour with getting any of my electronic devices to work.

I suspect it’s the fault of the confluence of three major factors:

  • Mercury is retrograde, hence if an electronic device is going to go on the fritz, it wouldn’t be surprising if it happens during this astronomical and astrological occurrence.
  • It’s a full moon today. And we all know a full moon can exacerbate anything: make it bigger, wilder, more pronounced, more volatile; and
  • We’re getting hit by a bone-chilling cold spell. It’s 16 degrees outside as I write this. When I came up into my bedroom this evening, my Dell’s screen started blinking most distressingly – and even worse, my specially designated 1111 Devotion post-writing-machine (dubbed thus as a result of my Dell losing its mind last year shortly into this commitment) has already simply winked off completely with no warning about 40 minutes ago, requiring a reboot, but is now prohibiting me from saving the document I’m writing this post in.

Even My iPhone Isn’t Spared

Oddly, even my iPhone is blinking off when I hold it upside down. (OK, I realize that the solution to that particular issue is obvious: “Don’t hold the phone upside down, Lisa. Duh.”) But actually, when things like this occur in such a haphazard way, it usually presages other unpredictable and disconcerting behaviors.

I just tried to save this again and it’s a no-go.

Hmm.

Given the triple whammy outlined above, I think I may just toss in the towel and hit publish.

I’m reasonably sure I’ll at least get these few thoughts and words posted, and I can’t even give you a logical reason why. They’ll show up, at least. But inspire? I think not.

I hope none of you are experiencing the Triple Whammy today – or tomorrow. But if you are, hang in there! We’re in this together!

(T-745)

Epic – Day 365

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 6 Comments
Disappearing at Slab City – Photo: L. Weikel

Epic

Death is just so damn weird.

In some ways, it feels like Karl’s been gone so long that the stories we tell are becoming epic in nature. Indeed, sometimes they sound like tall tales.

He lives on in our memories, for sure. And memories are notoriously selective.

But he lived a life that could be mistaken, in many ways and by many people, for a tall tale. He lived life bigger in his thirty years than most people live life in thrice that long.

He lived an epic life. Epic in its grandeur and charisma and talent and epic in its plunges to the depths of chaos and self-sabotage.

1111 Devotion

One year ago today, I realized I wanted to make a commitment – a statement – that celebrates my son’s memory and life. As a result, I’ve written a post every single day since November 12th , 2018, as a way of honoring the creativity and vibrancy of Karl’s life. No morbid or flowery bullshit for me. Rather, a single act of creativity, short or long, personal or political, day in and day out. A simple Act of Power, every day, in remembrance of him.

Not that I’m taking a victory lap around the track yet. As of today, my 365thpost, I’m only a third of the way around the loop. But it’s a milestone.

Let Me Be Clear

My Act of Power, however, is far from epic. It’s simple, but visible, reminder that, unlike him, I still have the ability to laugh with his father Karl, take walks with our pups, touch the earth, and mow the lawn. I’m still able to hear his brothers’ voices, see their smiles and feel their hugs, watch them love and thrive, and share their triumphs and struggles.

I still have the ability to sit beside the Tohickon and hear her voice, remember when Karl and his brothers splashed (and tormented each other) in her rocky shallows, and witness the gift of hawks and eagles cruising her length or standing watch over me as I write beside her.

I Wish

I wish I could feel his arms around me once again. I wish I could see his sparkling green eyes and devilishly charming smile trying to cajole some concession from me once again. I wish I could hear him mimic something silly, like a dolphin, just to make me laugh until tears run down my face. I wish I could have the chance to see him continue creating and experimenting with the next edgy concept.

He’s Not Really Gone

And yet I know that he visits me occasionally. He’s gone to great lengths, in fact, to make sure to assure me that his body may be gone but his spirit remains quite alive, thank you very much.

Just this morning, when I was reading the text and FB messages, as well as the emails from friends and families – so many of you dear ones who’ve made this journey with me these past 365 days – I remarked to one of you:

“Thank you. Hard one this year. Not sure why – it’s now been eight years. Maybe I’m ready for him to come home now. Weird.”

I sent that email reply and – as Goddess is my witness – I flipped over to FaceBook on my iPhone only moments later. I scrolled down one message and this is what I saw:

Knock my socks off. If you doubt that Karl didn’t photobomb FB to let me know that he’s still around, and can hear me… just compare this photo with the one on my website. Tell me you wouldn’t have taken a double-take too.

This is the type of thing that happens in my life all the time. I am blessed. I am loved. I am So. Incredibly. Lucky.

To all of you who’ve been walking this 1111 Devotion with me by reading my posts:

Thank you. I love you. I appreciate your support more than you know.

Photo: L. Weikel

(T-746)

Ice Flowers – Day 364

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

  

Ice Flowers

I was introduced to ice flowers this weekend, a natural occurrence I never knew existed, or at least never knew had a name and is a ‘thing.’

Also known as frost flowers, these delicate, otherworldly creations of nature must be seen at just the right time of day or they’re missed forever.

First Time

I regret to report that I do not have the photos I thought I did of the truly magical ones that appeared the other day. I only snagged a photo of the single one I personally encountered – and it actually bears little resemblance to the crystalline-looking ice sculptures my companion discovered earlier and had photographed.

Why didn’t I ask them to send me a copy of it?!

Truth be told, I was dissatisfied with the example of an ice, or frost, flower that I found (the one pictured above and below). It’s gray and almost resembles more a frozen wave or waterfall, cascading forth from the ground below it. Nevertheless, its flowing energy caught mid-movement was an odd frost sculpture to come across.

Photo – L. Weikel

An Article Appears

What’s particularly odd is that just one day after seeing an ice flower for the very first time (that I recall), I randomly come across an article that actually gives them a name and documents their occurrence in the state of Missouri. It’s pretty obvious it occurs elsewhere, but I still think it’s pretty cool that I was edified on their existence and what they’re called within 24 hours of experiencing them.

There’s so much magic surrounding us every day, but especially so when one is immersed in nature and paying attention.

There’s a cold snap coming in the next day or so to many parts of the country. Make sure you give yourself a chance to discover some frost flowers this week. Quick! Before all the plants give birth to their icy selves.

(T-747)