Month: April 2021

Flourishing – Day 890

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Lamprocapnos spectabilis; aka Bleeding Hearts – Photo: L. Weikel

Flourishing

22 Days Ago – Photo: L. Weikel

On March 28th of this year I wrote a post about the spiky looking sprouts emerging from the earth that I knew would eventually yield blooms that resemble bleeding hearts. I included a photo of the plant and mentioned that it would be fun to pay attention to how much it would change and how long it would take those changes to manifest. I posted an update on the growth status twelve days later. And now, 22 days along, I present you with a flourishing Lamprocapnos spectabilis.

It’s amazing to me just how quickly this plant has burst onto the scene of my garden. I’m glad I documented the scraggly initial emergence, and then its gawky adolescence. Watching this transformation over the past three weeks renews my awe over the utter magic that Mother Earth surrounds us with day after day.

Twelve Days Later – Photo: L. Weikel

Appreciating the Details

It’s so easy to get caught up in our day to day lives and forget to pay attention to what’s unfolding before our very eyes. I realize I do it all time, in spite of my intention to savor the present moments that comprise our lives. Ah, the road to hell.

But hey. Every once in a while I manage to bring my awareness right down to the nitty gritty and witness something amazing – like the explosion of growth shown here. Or the dozen or so goldfinches descending upon our feeders. Or the sun salutations a tulip did today in our garden.

I’ll share the tulip photos tomorrow, perhaps. Unless there’s something more pressing to discuss. I have such feelings over the potential for a new beginning to take root in our country if there’s a verdict in the Chauvin trial that brings accountability. But maybe that’s a topic for another day. Perhaps, if we’re lucky, we’ll discover deep-rooted change is finally flourishing and a whole new wave of awareness and equality will take root throughout our country.

Nine Days Later – Flourishing – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-221)

Evidence – Day 889

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Evidence – Photo: L. Weikel

Evidence

I remember the night after we received the call about Karl’s death. Twenty four hours after we received the news, we were attending a cross-country track team banquet. We kept our loss quiet, the three of us pretty much navigating the festivities on auto-pilot. (Our middle son was making his way home from another state where he was working his first job.) Oddly that night remained in my memory – not because of the cross-country banquet – but because of the evidence we received of a truth much bigger than ourselves that night.

I distinctly remember walking out of the church basement where the meal had been served and feeling the overwhelming beauty of the sunset practically pound me on the chest. The reds, oranges, purples, and blues all seemed to wrap themselves around me in a literal embrace of love and knowing. I felt my son’s arms around me. He was there. He was more palpably close to us in that moment than he’d been a week earlier, when he was still in his body.

The photo I took of that powerful sunset was the background on my iPhone for years from that day forward. Evidence that Karl’s essence did not die with his body.

Tonight

I’m recalling that night tonight because another family I know is encountering a similar life-altering reality – an adult son lost in a car accident.

I don’t know the details, whether he died last night or this morning, but I know that tonight was the first full day of him being ripped from the fabric of their lives. I’d been thinking about his family all day, remembering the shock of trying to wrap my head around the fact that I would never see my eldest son alive again. It doesn’t compute. It takes a while. And it makes you feel nauseated every time you try.

As we walked this afternoon and crested our favorite hill for weather and astral observations, we could clearly see rain cascading from the clouds in the distance. It felt like a metaphor – my holding space for them from afar as the rain pelted down in their lives.

Photo: L. Weikel

But about an hour later, another moment arrived. A sign, a message, a small but potentially powerful indicator that, while the pain is exquisite and they may feel they’re drowning in their loss, his spirit shines on.

It’s in times like these, of sudden shock and great loss, that we owe it to those we’ve lost to take solace in their best efforts to send us signs of their continued existence – and undying love.

Yes, we yearn for signs when tragedy strikes. But who are we to deny those who’ve departed our respect for their best efforts to reach out, make contact, and comfort us?

(T-222)

Today’s Number – Day 888

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Framed Brilliance – Photo: L. Weikel

Today’s Number

I barely pay attention anymore to the quantity of posts I’ve written. After all, it doesn’t matter where I am exactly in my 1111 Devotion. What matters is that I show up. But if you’ve read my posts for any length of time, you know I notice and pay attention to patterns. So I guess it’s not a stretch to imagine I’d sit up and give a nod to today’s number.

Today I’m on Day 888 and tomorrow there will only be 222 left to write in order to fulfill my homage to our son. It’s funny; I often feel like an alcoholic as I write these each night: honestly, I can only contemplate fulfilling this devotion one day at a time.

So when people occasionally ask me if I intend to keep writing posts after I reach my goal, I can only, in all honestly, shrug my shoulders. Heck, I’m not counting my chickens about reaching the goal; how can I predict with any credibility at all what I may do if and when I finally get there?

Today’s Photos

I’ve mentioned before how utterly impossible my 1111 Devotion task would be if I couldn’t take photos each day and easily upload them with my iPhone. The visual cues that remind me of each day’s magic are probably a bigger and perhaps better reflection of what really matters to me than the words I write.

Hmm. As I reflect upon that statement, I have to admit it’s not entirely accurate. The reason for that is because I so rarely post photos of the people in my life. And the people with whom I interact in my life, my family and friends, of course – but also my clients and the people I encounter on a regular basis and honestly care about, and even the random people who cross my path (or whose path I cross) in life  – matter to me.

Yet I rarely post photos of people. Mostly, I guess, because it doesn’t feel right to do so. There have been a couple of exceptions, but those were usually more of a ‘crowd’ shot than a personal statement or revelation.

But while the people in my life do matter to me, it’s the gifts of Mother Earth that are the treasures that never cease to provide inspiration and hope. And occasionally even some insight – almost always courtesy of my encounters with winged ones or other Beings.

A Bright Spot

Karl and I spent yet another day going through ‘stuff.’ I think we kept hoping the sun would come and out and coax us into taking a walk. But no. The sky remained overcast the entire day, sporting just a tad of a chill, too.

Finally, though, we tore ourselves away from our tasks and set off for a walkabout (the four mile trek). We both knew we needed more than ‘just a two.’

As we rounded a corner on one of the legs of our journey, we gasped at the splash of color that appeared in the midst of not only the gray and dismal day but also the haphazard arrangement of sticks and briars and the dark edge of a forest at dusk.

“Ah,” I said out loud. “There’s something to share on my blog.”

And so I am.*

Photo: L. Weikel

*And what this has to do with today’s number, I’ll never know.

(T-223)

Stuff Got Done – Day 887

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Precious – Photo: L. Weikel

Stuff Got Done

Today was a day some stuff got done – inside. Wow, was it chilly and raw out. At one point, not only was it raining, I swear there was also some sleet in the mix as well.

I’m actually hoping to get a lot more stuff done this entire weekend. I figure I might as well make this ‘declaration’ here. Not that I have to ever admit whether or not I successfully make the type of headway I yearn to, but at least I’ll feel some responsibility to fulfilling my stated intention.

My zeal to clean out was at least somewhat assuaged by the arrival of the Vietnam Vets of America, who picked up the contents of our front porch, which had grown to a somewhat daunting size.  I may have jumped the gun a little bit, though, and I feel bad about it.

VVA Protocol

When one schedules a pickup with this charity, you’re told to expect a pickup between 8:00 a.m. and 5:00 p.m. on the appointed day. Well, the last time I scheduled with them was March 23rd  – and they never showed up.

Since then, I’ve noticed the side-eye we’ve been getting from the neighbors. I think the length of time those items have remained on our porch has encouraged a collective wondering if we’re moving out. So I was perhaps – only perhaps, mind you – a little trigger happy when we reached the magic hour of 5:00 p.m. this evening and there was still no sign of the VVA truck. Given the first missed appointment, I had no problem jumping on the assumption train that this appointment had been blown as well.

So, of course, I called. And after remaining on hold for a good long time, I finally spoke with a human. She was great to deal with and simply made sure she ‘registered a Complaint’ for both missed appointments. She also put in an expedited request for a third pickup next Tuesday.

Because we all know how this type of stuff unfolds, you can guess what happened after that. Not ten minutes later, didn’t the VVA truck pull up and the poor guy had to load it all onto his truck in the pouring rain? Of course it did.

Setting Things Straight

The feeling of liberation when I look outside and see a cleared front porch!

I’m going to call them back tomorrow (or Monday) and set the record straight. The last thing I want to do is punish the guy who has our route. He was doing it all himself, and it looked like his truck was pretty darn full when he opened up the back. There was no partner sharing the load of lugging all the stuff. So I want to make sure he doesn’t get dinged in his paycheck for two missed appointments. That could be grounds for losing his job, and if so, I don’t want to be responsible for that.

In the Meantime

In the meantime, we never did manage to get a walk in today. Neither of us relished the prospect of dodging raindrops and getting soaked. Instead, we took full advantage of sitting in front of the fire in our living room and allowing the warmth to soak into our bones.

Tigger was first in line to bask in the warmth, and Precious simply couldn’t keep her eyes open.

Sort of how I feel right now.

Tigger – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-224)

Weird Week – Day 886

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Exquisite Spring Day – Photo: L. Weikel

Weird Week

This has been such a weird week already – and it’s not even Friday yet. (Well, it will be by the time this is read; but you get my drift.) And I have a feeling the weirdness isn’t done with us yet.

There’s been a dramatic acceleration of activity in many spheres. Notice I didn’t say a dramatic acceleration of movement or forward momentum. No. There’s just been a lot of activity – some of it constructive, some of it obstructive. And some of it just downright maddening and perplexing. Even a lot of spinning in place, one might say.

It’s hard to describe the shock I feel, in some ways, of dealing with so many people all at once in the span of four days. It makes me realize just how profoundly my baseline sense of ‘normal’ has changed in the past year.

I’ve literally engaged with people face-to-face (masked where appropriate, socially distanced in every instance) every single day this week. Tomorrow I have the opportunity and responsibility to engage further with more people and I’m simply agog at the thought.

Don’t Get Me Wrong

I’m not complaining. I’m observing. I always knew I was an introvert; that’s what’s actually made navigating the pandemic this past year relatively pleasant and comforting. I’m one of the lucky ones. I have space. I have direct access to innumerable expressions of Mother Nature and the ability to take a walk and enjoy them without a lingering fear in the back of my mind that I might not make it back to my house alive.

Yes, I’ve missed giving people hugs. Funnily enough, I think I’ve discovered that the circumstances in which I miss the gift of hugging most acutely are those that involve people who I would not ordinarily hug, but who I sense need them the most. What I mean by that is, yes, I miss giving my kids and my dear friends hugs. But I exquisitely miss the comfort and care that I sometimes feel can only be conveyed in a hug that transcends all words.

And the wordless expression of transcendent love and compassion are sometimes the precise and only gift that’s worth giving.

Buffeted

I find myself buffeted by the extremes of our existence. The yearning desire so many have to receive the vaccine that will protect them from catching a deadly disease – to the point that they burst into tears when they receive their inoculation(s). And then witnessing the casual indifference to the snuffing out of the lives of Black people by those we wish could be trusted to protect us – all of us – regardless of our skin color. As a mother – as a human – I just cannot fathom the relentless injustice and the disregard, time after time after time, for the preciousness of these lives.

I groused last night about feeling the effects of tree pollen. At least, that’s what I think was afflicting me last night. And yet…I stopped in my tracks when I looked at the exquisite beauty of the trees and clouds and grass I found myself driving past this afternoon. I almost drove right past this stunning hug from Mother Earth herself.

I’m glad I stopped in the middle of where I was driving and tried to capture the essence that overwhelmed me in that moment. It was a wordless moment of unconditional love and compassion. She was giving to me what I yearn to give to others.

More goldfinches amongst magnolia blossoms – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-225)

A Short One – Day 885

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Weeping Willow Blossoming – Photo: L. Weikel

A Short One

Tonight’s blog post is going to be a short one. I’m in the midst of being felled by an onslaught of tree pollen.

It’s hard to keep my eyes open this evening, and it’s not just a function of being tired – although that’s a part of it. My fatigue is merely a symptom.

My head is throbbing yet again and another reason I can’t keep my eyes open is because of the sensation of a knotted rope behind them. Every time I spent any amount of time outside today, when I came back inside I could feel the sensation of pollen clinging to my face and the faint buzz in my ears that’s always a tell-tale sign of allergies afoot.

I’ll admit, it’s hard to concentrate on anything at the moment. Everything became exponentially worse after our longer walkabout (4 miler) tonight. We actually tried to get in a shorter walkaround (2 miler) this morning, when we weren’t sure whether the rain would hold off later in the afternoon.

That means we managed to get in 5.5 miles today. No, we didn’t make it all the way around on the shorter walk because, of course, it started drizzling only about half a mile in.

Willows, Elm, and Ash

Maple, Juniper, and Alder. We’ve got all of these heavy-hitters not only on or near our property but perhaps even more importantly also lining our path as we walk through the countryside. What a double-edged sword the springtime can wield! The beauty of the lime green buds sprouting in every direction is such an affirmation of life and new growth. And yet.

Well, clearly I’m having a hard time thinking or writing about anything beyond my own miserable self. So I will spare you any further details.

In the meantime, please also enjoy this photo of a Goldfinch showing us a little feather in front of a lovely magnolia blossom.

Goldfinch and Magnolia Blossoms – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-226)

Sushi, Brownies, and Friendship – Day 884

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Sushi – Not tonight’s, but close enough – Photo: L. Weikel

Sushi, Brownies, and Friendship

Some nights I go off on tangents about raptors, clouds, and messages. But sometimes the only reasonable course is to just take a time out and focus on sushi, brownies, and friendship.

I want to continue the conversation I began last night about Seeing patterns and connecting dots and how all of that comes together differently for each of us. But tonight is not the night for me to pursue that line of thought.

No, tonight was a night of sushi, brownies and friendship, and the upshot of that fact is the truth that I don’t feel like going so deep or so wide into my thoughts or feelings. Instead, I’m simply reveling in the sweet truth of what it felt like to sit around a fire safely ensconced in a fire pit, in the midst of a windless, completely still evening, with people I’ve known for all but maybe twelve months of their life to those I only met minutes before pulling up a chair to the fire.

Ah, the freedom of being outside and more than six feet away from all of these people (there actually were only four of us around the fire), yet still able to look at their faces – their full, maskless faces – and react to their expressions and laughter and full-toothed grins. It was the best birthday gift ever.  (But I’ll admit, the sushi and brownies were exquisite as well).

Knowing What’s Important

Sitting together outside tonight we shared a number of precious moments: the barely waxing newest of moons in Taurus, flashing but a tiny fingernail shape in the western sky, while captivatingly revealing the rest of her shadowy self if you looked closely enough. What a sight; especially when glimpsed through the trees that are just starting to bud out and contemplate bursting into full, leafy glory over the next few days.

Another moment? The satisfaction of coaxing the fire to rise to the occasion, licking its flames across the delicious bark of the wood we fed it. Ah, the warmth and flickering of flames that danced across our countenances as we told stories of years gone by to give the newcomer a taste of who we are and how we share certain bits of history.

Everything has a story if you give it enough time. Even people we’ve known all our lives have stories they can share that surprise or beguile us.

Sometimes, the further we travel from home, the more we realize that the people closest to us might just be the most exotic. Or at the very least, the most eclectic.

Amazing Seeds Being Planted

It feels to me as though this week is a particularly powerful week in which to plant the seeds of what we wish to manifest not only in the next thirty days or so, but also in the next six months and event he next year. The new moon (on Sunday evening) was in Aries but the seeds we’ve been planting since then – yesterday, today, and tomorrow – have been, and are being, planted while the moon is in earthy, nurturing Taurus.

To me, that feels luxuriously nurturing and like the perfect environment to cradle those incipient dreams.

I’m going to call tonight as one of those evenings we all yearn for but only rarely experience. Filled with sushi, brownies, and friends, it was momentary perfection. For a few hours this evening, four people sat around a crackling fire, listened to distant peepers, exclaimed over Canadian geese honking their way directly overhead, and knew we were all exactly where we were supposed to be in that moment.

Decades may separate us, but in the moment, we were all simply reveling in the company of kindred spirits. I couldn’t be more grateful for the experience.

(T-228)

Coalescence of Messaging – Day 883

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Spartacus Sending Mind-Meld Vibes – Photo: L. Weikel

A Coalescence of Messaging

I’m experiencing a coalescence of messaging lately. At least that’s what it feels like. Two Pileated Woodpeckers and then two days later two Ospreys. Neither of these birds can be considered ‘frequent’ sightings, in spite of how much time I spend outside walking or how often I frequent the Tohickon Creek or the Delaware River.

The trick, as always, is to do my best to be open to what that message may be, which is not as easy as it might sound.

It’s one thing to be able to see patterns and read signs and omens for other people. I’ve been intuiting such messages probably all my life. In fact, for the longest time I thought these clues to life that surround people were so obvious that I wouldn’t point them out. It never occurred to me that they weren’t being ‘picked up’ by the intended recipients. Indeed, I didn’t want to insult people’s intelligence. It felt disrespectful to point out everything that seemed readily apparent to me.

Sometimes a part of me would want to say, “Well, duh! Do you need to be clonked on the head with a 2×4? It’s so obvious!” Usually, though, I would over-correct and deliberately choose to not point out what was blaring like a neon light in my mind. If it was obvious to me, surely it was obvious to them. I only saw the connections based upon information I gleaned from listening to them (be they clients, friends, or family). I was simply connecting the dots.

Forty Years

If I really think about it, it probably took me at least forty years to fully grasp that people don’t see what I see. Or they don’t connect stuff that happens all around us – particularly after asking a pointed question or expressing a yearning for guidance or a message – that to me is obviously a direct response to their plea.

As I say, I think I’ve always had an odd way of looking at and interpreting information that comes to us via a variety of traditional sensory and extra-sensory means. But it wasn’t until I started engaging in the energetic work I was taught in the Andean shamanic tradition, including listening to and giving credence to the information I receive via shamanic journeying, that I realized that a significant part of what I offer is precisely what I thought was the most mundane and pedestrian aspect of my work.

Do For Yourself

I’ve spent a lot of my writing time this evening trying to convey something I’ve struggled with for decades. I’ve probably taken so much time trying to explain my perspective because it matters to me how I express this. I’m not in any way disparaging those who look at a very obvious (again, to me) message from their higher self or Spirit (or whomever you want to attribute the message) and don’t get it.

In fact, I often wonder if it’s just a blind spot we all have. Are messages easier to See when they’re not being directed toward us?

I don’t know. I do know, however, that as obvious as so many messages, signs, and symbols are to me as they pertain to other people, I have a really tough time reading them for myself. Perhaps it’s because I do my best to remain detached on behalf of others. I don’t want to be invested in hearing any particular answer or message for another person, so I just see what I see and hear what I hear.

But for myself? That’s tough. It’s not as easy as you might think.

(T-228)

Return of Two Messengers – Day 882

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Osprey Surveying the Tohickon – Photo: L. Weikel

Return of Two Messengers

There must be something I need to reflect upon more deeply that connects 2019 and 2021 than I’m realizing. I find it peculiar that in the span of two short days I’ve now experienced the return of two messengers that I only saw for the first time ever in 2019.

As I mentioned in my recent post, until I awakened on my birthday in 2019, I’d never seen a Pileated Woodpecker ‘in the feather.’ And after that single, exciting sighting two years ago, where it pecked (I should say drilled) its presence into my awareness right outside my bedroom window, I’ve not seen another one. Until two days ago.

And wow – witnessing the dance of those two Pileateds up and down and round and round the two trees just behind my porch was an astonishing opportunity. It’s hard to believe they didn’t sense my presence; they hung around for close to half an hour, and all that while, I was moving around, trying to get the best photos and videos of them with my phone.

Imagine My Surprise

So it’s easy to imagine my surprise, then, when I drove by my beloved Tohickon Creek and stopped in the middle of the road. I was only driving past my favorite place to sit and write because the fisherpeople are still swamping the area and all the usual places I park along the bank were taken. I didn’t expect to see anything out of the ordinary, but I do try to keep an eye out for the occasional special appearance of a creature – winged or otherwise.

The cause for my abrupt stop in the middle of the one lane road was the majestic presence of an Osprey staring directly at me from across the creek. At first, the presence of brilliant white plumage made me think I’d spotted a Bald Eagle. But when I looked closer, I knew I’d never seen the white feathers all down the front of the chest of an eagle. And the ruff of white around its neck was so prominent, it almost looked like the ruffs sported by lords or other royal denizens from medieval times.

I had to check my bird app, and there it was, described in detail in my Peterson’s Field Guide app. “…Perched (ospreys) appear long-legged and often show a narrow white stripe between shoulders and body; their wingtips extend just beyond tail tip.”

The only other ospreys I’d ever seen before today had been flying overhead, once along the Delaware and the other along the Tohickon, but much further down the creek.

Two For Two

Making today’s sighting even more odd was the fact that, not 20 minutes later, I saw yet another osprey flying overhead as I drove down Route 611. I was miles away from the Tohickon at that point – so a double appearance within minutes of each other was…remarkable.

And to think: two years ago I saw one each of these heretofore rarely seen (by me) creatures. And this year, in the span of two days, I saw two of each of them.

I don’t know. Seems like a pattern that demands some attention.

Osprey Closeup – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-229)

Thrashing – Day 881

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Thrashing and Throwing – Photo: L. Weikel

Thrashing

I’m sitting here in my living room, my front door open to let in the sounds and cool breeze of the spring evening. I’m tired. My back aches. A car just drove by. One of only a handful the whole evening, it seems – and it made me realize just how eerily quiet the night is tonight. I can count on one hand the number of cars that have whooshed by. It’s almost as if the world’s finally stopped thrashing about and is ever so tentatively slowing down and taking a breath.

I spent a while in our attic this afternoon trying to clear out some old stuff that just needs to go. What am I saving this stuff for? I find myself asking this question ad nauseum lately. My need to dramatically shake stuff up is acute. Not just in the attic. Everywhere in my life.

I’m not sure what’s driving it, but the urgency feels relentless.

I’d like to note that spending any amount of time in the attic is back-torturing work because it’s literally impossible to stand up straight anywhere up there. There’s probably a metaphor there that I’m either missing or choosing just barely subconsciously to ignore. Either way, I was willing to endure the discomfort and push myself onward – until the lights went out.

Lights Out

<<Blink>> Out they went. I’d just sat down to rest on a stored sleeping bag after using the shop-vac to suck up the relentless detritus created by a very old slate roof. It didn’t matter that the sun was out and it was early afternoon. Only slivers of natural light illuminate our attic on the best of days, and sadly that’s because random hailstones have put a few small holes in our slate roof, which we’ve repaired with translucent caulk. We have a couple of windows, but they’re very small and very dirty and they just weren’t designed to provide an abundance of light in our attic.

So when the lights went out, I was in the dark. The message was clear: it was time to get out. I’d done what I could in this venue.

Shifting My Focus

Begrudgingly, I lugged a very long, industrial-grade, extension cord back down the spiral, pie-shaped staircase leading from the attic into our bedroom. The stupid cord, an ungainly length, hadn’t worked anyway. I was going to have to test it because I’d wasted an inordinate amount of time trying to get the shop-vac to work, only to reach the irritating conclusion that none of this might not be the shop-vac’s fault, even though I’d been mercilessly cursing the appliance under my breath.

Turned out it was the extension cord. Who’s ever heard of such a thing? How many times have you heard of an industrial grade extension cord ‘going bad?’ Maybe it happens all the time. I don’t know. But I can tell you: it irked the heck out of me today.

After gathering up the 25’ cord and stuffing it into a garbage bag, I shifted my focus (some would call it the Eye of Sauron) toward our barn. Surely there was something in there I could pitch. (Ha – I scoff at the mere suggestion I’d have to do anything more than open a door before discovering items that could be banished from the premises forthwith.) Oooh yeah. Plenty of stuff to either resurrect or purge. This has been a long time coming – and today felt as good a day as any to end the madness.

A Sense of Urgency

More and more, I’m realizing how desperately we (I) need to do this. And we (I) need to do this now. Freeing up our (my) psychic and physical space is going to make more of a dramatic difference in our lives than anything else we could do at this moment in time. (And even if it’s only my psychic space that’s cleared – that will unquestionably impact Karl’s life as well.)

As quiet as the outside world seems tonight, I sense the same is attainable for my inner environment. If I stop thrashing and persist in doing the work to shed the remnants of hopes fulfilled and then forgotten – or never attained, perhaps I’ll finally have room to manifest the ones that matter to me now.

(T-230)