Commitment – Day Fifty

Commitment

OK, I’ll admit it. I’m pretty much phoning this one in.

I’m nursing a slight headache, I was a little brought down by yet another day full of low hanging clouds and relentless rain, and this is my fiftieth consecutive post!

Actually, that last part makes me smile.

I’m glad I’m sitting up here on my bed, with but minutes to spare before the ball drops and 2019 begins, and I’m writing this.

I find it fascinating that I feel so connected to you; and I do feel that there is a ‘you’ at the other end of this post. There are eyes reading these words. And I’m intrigued by this relationship I feel we’re cultivating.

If I didn’t feel something, I wouldn’t be sitting up here all by myself, writing this. But I’m not all by myself, am I?

Thank you for supporting me energetically and otherwise over the past fifty days.

I’d like to invite each one of you to join me in some form of devotion to yourself in 2019. Maybe contemplate not giving something up as you enter this new year, but rather bringing something in, instead.

Turning off the television and reading for an hour before bed every night.

Keeping a journal and writing at least one page (and preferably three – wink wink), every day.

Drawing or taking a photograph with your phone every single day to document your joy.

Realizing you are loved. And appreciated. Even if it is ‘only’ by yourself.

Thank you for walking beside me. I look forward to 2019 – together.

(T-1061)

Doing the Grunt Work – Day Forty Nine

Doing the Grunt Work

I’m afraid this second-to-last post in 2018 is dismally pedestrian. But necessary.

I spent the day today doing the grunt work I spoke of yesterday, only today was the piece by piece examination, recycling, and, when necessary, shredding. I’m astonished by the volume of paper I’ve purged.

I only have about three short piles left to examine in this fashion, and tomorrow is my deadline.

I’ll confess: the stuff of Karl’s, I’ve saved (euphemistically, at least) for tomorrow. And I’m not going to beat myself up over any of it. If I need to save half a dozen file folders for a couple more years – or thirty – or 100 – so be it.

Purging My Old Hats

Instead, I’ve been engrossed in reliving my work lives at the two institutions prior to devoting the vast majority of my time to my shamanic practice.

It’s amazing to me how much I forget from year to year. It makes me wonder if that’s unique to me or if most people allow vast chunks of detail to float down the river of memory, too. Sometimes I wonder if I deliberately let go of a lot of memories by recording my life contemporaneously in journals.

I don’t know if that’s true – but it does provide me with a modicum of comfort.

So many details seemed so important at the time, and the urgency of a lot of it came back to me as I re-read emails I’d saved and reports I’d written. And now…wow. So many issues we dealt with have become exponentially worse.

I think the biggest surprise, however, is how freely we used our social security numbers on so many documents only 15 years ago. Wow.

My Shredder – My Best Friend

As a result, I’ve been shredding my behind off. Indeed, I literally overheated our shredder twice today. We started smelling burning plastic and then a long band of red light (that I’d never seen before) appeared beside the small green ‘on’ light, and the shredder stopped working completely.

We even used our social security numbers as ID numbers for our health insurance plans! I don’t think we had any inkling of the dangers we’d routinely face around identity theft.

Speaking of identity theft…that was another memory I’d put into the back of my mind and recollected in all its complicated detail today. I’ll definitely have to write about that experience one of these days.

The bottom line, though, which I believe the comments many of you so generously shared on Facebook confirmed, is that this purging is necessary. It’s perfect. It’s an extraordinarily empowering way to begin not only a new year but also a new chapter.

(T-1062)

Sacred Space – Day Forty Six

Sacred Space

Wow.

When I woke up this morning, I was not, shall we say, “rarin’ to go.” I even asked Karl to take my temperature, as I felt like a furnace and thought my bedclothes might spontaneously combust. We’ll never know, since we don’t actually own a regular, old-fashioned thermometer anymore. We only have one of those stupid electronic ones that take a watch battery or something, which of course was clearly not operating correctly, since I’m pretty sure I’m not 94.6 degrees.

I had to rally, though. I had an appointment with a client, from whom I’d sensed some trepidation in the weeks beforehand as we’d exchanged emails setting it up. I could feel that the client was both eager to have the session, yet at the same time was feeling some anxiety as the appointment approached. And I’d sensed, just ‘from afar,’ that she might be second-guessing herself over the past couple of days.

I know that feeling well. It almost always precedes a breakthrough or an opportunity to let go of a way of being or thinking that has in many ways defined us for a long period of time. It’s natural – a part of human nature. Of course I’ve witnessed it in clients many times. But I’ve also felt it personally. I’m no stranger to jumping off cliffs myself.

So unless I was literally unable to function, I was determined to get to my office. (I should hasten to assure you that, had I felt I would somehow be contagious or a danger to my client, I definitely would have stayed home). But basically, I just felt crappy. I could see it in my eyes when I peered at myself in the bathroom mirror. They were gray, and a bit dull.

To Cancel or Not to Cancel

Karl suggested maybe I should cancel.

“No,” I countered, popping two Advil and a Sudafed. “I’m going to give it a try.”

Deep down, I was confident I had an ace in the hole. The truth is, I’d experienced the miraculous effects of this secret ally before, but at the same time, I did not want to assume it would happen this time – and make an affirmative statement about it. I’m leery of making assumptions, probably because they feel disrespectful. So I left with an attitude of “I will show up for my client, and hope Spirit shows up for me.”

My secret ally is Sacred Space. It is the nearly indescribable but unquestionably palpable shift in energy that occurs when I call in my allies, guardians, and guides, as well as the archetypal energies associated with the cardinal directions, Mother Earth, and All That Is (Above).

Creating Sacred Space is probably the most amazing thing I ‘do,’ and yet it has nothing to do with me. It has everything to do with the unseen, creative, magnificent forces that watch over and guide all of us. It is the healing space where miracles occur spontaneously and easily. It is the safest and most comforting place to simply be. And I knew if I could get myself to the office and create this Sacred Space, not only would I feel better, but my client, too, would discover the peace that comes from simply experiencing and being within it.

Sacred Space Saved the Day

I trusted what I know about Sacred Space. And the only way I know is through experience.

Our session was long. Our work went deep. My client has lived a life of challenges and heartache. But we prevailed.

I forgot about how crappy I’d felt when I awakened this morning. Indeed, when I texted Karl after completing the session, his first question was to ask how I felt. “I’m a little tired, I guess,” was my response.

I’d completely forgotten my morning malaise. Sacred Space had shifted and transmuted everything – for both my client and myself. We’d both broken through.

(T-1065)

Theraflu Fix – Day Forty Five

Theraflu Fix

Regrettably, tonight is a Theraflu night. I’m staving off something; not sure if it’s a cold or a sinus infection or just a culmination of Christmas being yesterday and today being the 360thday of the year and the realization that there are only five days left in 2018. No matter what it is, Theraflu will probably fix it. That and perhaps getting to bed before 1:30 or 2:00 a.m.

I’ve always tended toward being a night person. I think it’s been true since I was little, actually, but it’s definitely been the story of my adult life.

During law school, night was when I would get most of my reading, studying, and writing accomplished. And since I gave birth to son Karl while I was in law school, that pattern pretty much set itself in stone, since he (and the next two, as well) were always great sleepers. Therefore, once all my guys were asleep (and yeah, Karl’s a morning person – big surprise), I was surrounded by my coveted silence. Yep. My evening silence.

Nevertheless, I have to admit that over the past decade or so I’ve only been staying up past midnight sporadically. Midnight literally became my witching hour.

But now I’m dedicated to my 1111 Devotion. My practice. My commitment. And in spite of my best intentions, in spite of my earnest desire to not always be pushing my nose up against a deadline, ‘crushing it at the last minute’ is apparently my default setting. And so, I hit ‘publish’ every night, right around 11:59 or thereabouts. It doesn’t matter when I start writing for the evening, either.

Decisions and the Adrenalin Rush

Because the drive to submit each post by midnight is so intense in those last forty five minutes or so, every single night I’m left with both a sense of accomplishment and a boatload of adrenalin pumping through my veins at 12:01 a.m. or so. And that means I’ve not been getting to bed until 1:30 – 2:00 a.m., consistently, since engaging in this devotional practice. Some days I’ve been able to snag a little extra time snooze time in the morning, but not always. Certainly not enough to make up for this new regime.

So it appears as though I have a decision to make, and the week between Christmas and New Year’s seems to be as appropriate a time as any to ponder my options. How do I make this new relationship sustainable? How do I keep from wearing myself out and sabotaging my practice?

I’ll keep you posted. (Ha. That pun was not intended.)

In the meantime, I’m taking a Theraflu tonight, and as soon as I hit ‘publish,’ I’m going to bed.

Thanks for sticking with me as I figure this out.

(T-1066)

Christmas Eve Magic – Day Forty Three

Christmas Eve Magic

Karl, Maximus, Tiffany, Sage, Sarah and I took a moon and starlight walk earlier this evening. It was weird to have the luxury to engage in such an indulgence and enjoy the brilliant night sky. It brought back vivid memories of riding home in the back seat of my parents’ car after midnight mass on Christmas Eve, with my head leaning against the car window, staring up at the stars, yearning to see something magical streak across the sky.

I’ve always believed in magic. I might not see it very often, but I know it exists.

And not the magic that comes with top hats and card tricks. Real magic. The magic of magi, of wisdom, of the power of love.

Christmas Eve always reminds me of my mother. I miss her exquisitely on Christmas Eve, probably because, as a mother myself, I’ve realized through the years how much work it takes to coordinate ‘life’ to make magic real for our children.

And not in the manner that you might think. Not in making sure wished-for toys found their way under the tree or in the stockings.

Rather, in cultivating an attitude of wonder and possibility.

No one in my family ever definitively told me I was ridiculous to feel the magic of Christmas. And yet no one ever made a big show of pretending in order to foster the magic, either. I grew up with an attitude of possibility cultivated by my mother; an unspoken acknowledgement that if you rule out any hope of encountering the unexpected, you very well may make yourself blind to it.

I never want to be so sure of anything that I make myself blind to the possibility of magic.

And I have my mother to thank for that, as well as a dad and siblings who never felt compelled to douse the light in my eyes; the light that will always believe in and search for evidence of enchantment and hope, love and kindness.

May all of you keep searching for evidence of what you know is true in your hearts.

(T-1068)

Resistance – Day Forty Two

Resistance

I hate being faced with my glaring deficiencies; resistance being one of them.

Sometimes they just walk up and stand in front of me, though, and no matter what I do, I can’t get around them.

One of those that’s staring me down at the moment is a resistance to marketing. Marketing myself in any way, for anything, primarily. But marketing in general is always a persistently vexing subtext.

I might as well speak substance, since I don’t have a big window tonight: I’ve been invited to participate in the I AM Winter Solstice Symposium, arranged and produced by my friend, Renee Baribeau. Renee is the author of Winds of Spirit, which was published by Hay House this past spring.

I AM Winter Solstice Symposium 2018

Renee did our interview ahead of time. Mine airs tomorrow. The entire program began on Thursday evening, with an opening Fire Ceremony in honor and celebration of the Solstice. I dropped the ball by not sending out an announcement about the Symposium to my Hoot List several days ago, a lapse which I really must rectify tonight, if possible.

The problem is, beyond (or perhaps in tandem with) my resistance to marketing is my reluctance to get knee deep into technological endeavors, such as trying to figure out how to insert into a Hoot Alert the graphics Renee so generously provides me.

Seriously, I should have this stuff figured out by now.

Join the Wind Clan on Facebook

So let me just say this now: My presentation is airing tomorrow (Christmas Eve) at 1:00 p.m. EST. In order to access it, you need to join the Wind Clan on FB at this link. (And if I haven’t figured out how to add that link before I have to hit <publish> on this post, please check out my Hoot Alert, which I intend to write and get sent out before I go to bed tonight!)

Above and beyond my presentation, though (the subject of which will not surprise you if you’ve been reading these 1111 Devotion posts), are the presentations of 17 amazing women with unique and inspiring messages and suggestions for making your life a little bit richer, creative, and sacred.

Join us! And help me push past this resistance to marketing by enjoying my offering. Who knows what inspiration awaits!

(T-1069)

Bad Habits – Day Twenty Nine

 Bad Habits

In yesterday’s post I wrote that I was chagrined to discover that my practice of journal writing has clearly suffered as I have worked to fulfill my daily commitment in the form of the 1111 Devotion. I’d recently realized that I’d allowed an entire 14 days to go by without writing in my journal, which is a serious breach, in my book. And it isn’t that I’m blindly demanding daily journaling in addition to my commitment here; but I am saying that this act of neglect is one of several bad habits I indulge in – and not something I want to encourage within myself.

My reasoning, as I said yesterday, is two-fold, with the first being the simple fact that maintaining a journal has been a huge and essential part of my life for the vast majority of it. Journaling keeps my head on straight. It helps me see things differently than when thoughts and feelings are simply chasing each other around in my head, and it clarifies my emotions. This is true in spite of the fact that my discipline was nearly derailed when I realized I might not always be able to assume my privacy was assured. That’s how important journaling is to me.

My second reason for not condoning the sacrifice of my journaling is because it would defeat the purpose of my 1111 Devotion. It would strip it of its essence as an Act of Power. How is it rightfully a devotional practice to simply substitute one form of writing for another? What about that would be meaningful?

Not much.

Games My Mind Plays

It’s fascinating to see the little games my mind plays. The compromises I engage in – and to what end? Depriving myself of doing that which I love the most? Atta girl, Lisa. You’ll show them! (Who? Myself?)

It’s just dumb. And akin to that whole indulgence stream of thought I wrote about a few days ago.

I guess I’m realizing just how much this happens. How often I procrastinate on or outright refuse to engage in behavior that will only serve to make me happy or improve my life experience.

As I sit here contemplating just how much this behavior permeates my life, I’m disturbed by such a propensity. Not only do I seem to go on a guilt trip when I ‘indulge’ in turning off the tv and reveling in silence, but I also apparently sabotage my efforts to do what I love and live my life in beauty and ease and comfort.

Time to knock this shit off, I say.

(T-1082)

Evening Silence – Day Twenty Six

 

Evening Silence

I’m sitting here trying really hard to think of something even remotely interesting to write about tonight.

I’ve turned off the tv much earlier than usual (or at least, earlier than I used to), as I’ve done every evening since beginning the 1111 Devotion project, because it’s just way too distracting to have it on while I’m trying to write and thus the only way I’ll get the job done.

I must admit: I love listening to the silence, especially the silence that descends upon a room immediately upon clicking the tv into oblivion. It never fails to soothe me, no matter what I’m doing in the moment. And just like now, I wonder why I don’t seek evening silence out more often.

I’m calling it evening silence because I don’t seem to ever be tempted to turn the tv on during the day. Of course, a lot of times I’m not in a position to turn one on during the day. I’m not bringing this up as any ‘badge of honor’ sort of thing. It’s just a fact that I only rarely become aware of – but am appreciating much more often as a result of engaging my commitment.

Appreciation: A By-Product of My Act of Power

I guess you could say this appreciation of the evening silence is an unexpected but delightful by-product of this Act of Power. And in a way, it is a means of garnering power.

Even if I might be otherwise watching a program that edifies me in some way, I don’t think I get as much out of it, quite honestly, as I do the silence. Because if I lapse into the normal routine I was in prior to making this commitment, I would retire upstairs as soon as I turned off the tv. I might read my book for a few minutes, but in truth, my actual presence in and appreciation of the evening silence was minimal.

I find myself thinking back on when our sons were growing up, especially the two older ones, Karl and Maximus. Back when Karl was in elementary school, we didn’t get cable at first. We were limited to the three channels (3, 6, and 10) of the major networks, and maybe some UHF channels. Granted, that didn’t last long. But I know it made a difference in the way we spent our time.

Indeed, I sometimes wonder – especially lately – whether that is not a significant liability to my efforts to write the sequel to Owl Medicinehttps://amzn.to/2M6st6B. I’ve become addicted to the political news shows, especially. In some ways, I feel it is my civic responsibility to remain aware and informed. And goodness knows, it becomes harder and harder to peel our eyes away from the latest ‘news.’

But really, I have to ask myself: Is it worth my time? Wouldn’t I rather be spending time in the evening silence, immersed in one of my beloved books? Or writing one of my own?

Yeah, I think I would.

(T-1085)

Trusting the Leap – Day Nineteen

 

Trusting the Leap

I’m having a hard time coming up with something to write about tonight. Nothing is jumping out at me; I had a long day, I’m tired, and I didn’t experience any major “Ahas!” regarding this morning’s ‘pick.’

Technically, my full pick this morning was Black Panther/Beaver. Although I always love when I choose Black Panther – since its title attribute in the Medicine Cards© is “Embracing the Unknown,” I always enter my day when I choose it with a sense of anticipation and a bit of mystery – I can’t say as though I noticed it applying to the way my day unfolded.

Beaver’s title attribute is “Builder,” and my usual default sense of Beaver when it’s underneath is that it somehow has something to do with working with others, or ‘teamwork.’

Applying My Cards to My Dilemma

And now I will admit to something:

It is only now as I am writing this post that I am sensing the application of my card pick.

My receipt of Black Panther was the cards telling me that I needed to “leap empty-handed into the void with implicit trust” in writing tonight’s post. I just had to dive in. And as soon as I wrote that first sentence, I felt like I might be onto something. Just admitting that I had no subject was a subject!

That’s when I thought to consider what I’d chosen on my day – at least it might give me a jumping off point.  So, while it may have been more accurately described as an empty-headed leap into the void with implicit trust, here I am, embracing my Black Panther.

And the Beaver underneath? Well, that sort of just falls into place for me now and underscores that Black Panther is appearing in reference to my 1111 Devotion . Beaver’s placement underneath is you. Why? Because we are a team. We are a community. By taking the time and according me the honor of choosing to spend a few precious minutes with me each day (or whenever you can), you are respecting my Act of Power. You are respecting my dedication to this crazy devotional practice. And honestly? Knowing that you (and yes, your single self is absolutely precious to me) are going to read this has spurred me on to put one sentence after another and follow through.

Sometimes They Make Sense Only Later

It’s also another way for me to show how the Medicine Cards©work for me. They do not always make sense to me as I read them at the outset of my day. Some days I honestly have no clue as to how my pick will apply. Some days I can honestly say I never figure it out.

But then there are days like today, when the meaning or application has not had an opportunity to manifest until the sun has long since set and I am starting to grow sleepy.

The cool thing (for me), though, is that I still feel the magic. I’m delighted that my choice of cards this morning taught me something this evening. They came to my aid by informing me that sometimes we just have to leap into the void, even if we are empty-handed (or empty-headed), with implicit trust – in order to keep building on our commitment to the ‘team.’

So again – thank you for being there for me.

recinet.ca

(T-1092)

Picking Cards – the Weikel Way – Day Seven (T-1104)

Embracing Moose

Initially I was going to ‘apologize in advance’ for yet another blog post referencing the Medicine Cards©  by Jamie Sams and David Carson. But you know what? No apologies.

If you are still with me after six days of my posts (without me even giving you the option to receive them personally delivered to your email inbox – a feature coming soon to an inbox near you – perhaps as soon as tomorrow or the next day!), then you probably have surmised that these wonderful windows into understanding ourselves via Mother Nature’s creatures are a big part of my life.

With one thousand one hundred four blog posts on my horizon (at the very least), I can assure you that at least a half bazillion of them will center on, or in some way reference, the Medicine Cards© and how they impact my understanding of something in my life in one way or another. And I will write about it. And therefore you, if you’re as devoted to reading my blog as I will be to writing it, will read about it.

Feels like a full circle to me. Or at least some weird type of metaphysical co-dependency – but I’d rather think of it as a “circle of appreciation,” and perhaps even “wisdom sharing.” I would insert an eye roll here if I were texting.

Today’s post marks the completion of a full seven days of 1111 Devotion posts on Ruffled Feathers. In the grand scheme of things, this is a miniscule accomplishment. Not even 1%. Exactly 0.63%, to be honest. Hardly something to crow about. (Don’t go there.) And that is my human, perfectionist, egotistical, relentlessly critical perspective on my process. The one that says, “You can start to feel like you’re ‘all that’ when you get to, maybe, oh I don’t know, Day Five Hundred Fifty Six. But NOT ONE DAY BEFORE.”

But Spirit is different. Spirit is not an asshat to me. (I almost wrote the other word, but it just felt wrong – because Spirit’s not an asshole. Woops.)

On the contrary. Right out of the gate Spirit knew I would need reassurance that I had indeed “heard right” (i.e., listened) to the message that the best way to honor my son’s life was to engage in a substantial act of Devotion. 1111 sub-acts, to be precise.

Because let me tell you, since creating Ruffled Feathers in March of 2010, up through the day before writing my Devotion post, I had published a grand total of 31 entries, or an average of 3.5 per year. So committing to this Act of Power, as I’ve also called it, has almost every evening this past week caused my stomach to sort-of bottom out.

Yes, Spirit knew I would need a lot of coaxing to refrain from talking myself out of the fact that I’d actually received and correctly interpreted an inspiration (Spirit-nudge? Marching orders?) to write 1111 blog posts. I’m a lawyer. It would not take a lot for me to muster a pretty compelling argument that I’d somehow misheard that directive from Spirit.

But the fact remains that last Sunday (11/11) was the day I received the inspiration (and the confirmation from several sources, which I wrote about this past week) to do this thing.

Monday night I published my initial Devotion post, publicly committing to this Act of Power.

Tuesday morning, I picked:    Moose2. Yes, that correctly reads “Moose squared.” And what it means is that I chose Moose right side up, and the card on the bottom was a “blank.”

Remember, Karl and I choose cards virtually every single day at the start of our morning. Our ‘picking process’ is as follows:

Karl chooses first, shuffling, softly breathing his request for guidance on his day into the cards, shuffling some more, keeping his feet firmly planted on the ground to root him to Mother Earth…and then he picks what he picks. I read out loud the full main text of the top card, if it is upright, but if his top card is reversed, or ‘contrary,’ I read both the upright (main) and reversed passages in the accompanying text. I do not read out loud the information for the ‘underneath’ card. We just look at it, note it, and discuss how it might hone in on or otherwise clarify the application of the message of the top card.

Eventually it’s my turn, and I engage in essentially the same process.

So, to be clear, I’m never just picking up the deck and not shuffling, or doing anything else that might be odd or nefariously manipulating the deck, or my ‘pick,’ for the purpose of later writing about some amazing ‘coincidence.’ In fact, I shuffle and shuffle relentlessly, deliberately turning cards this way and that, just to ensure that they’re properly ‘mixed.’

Also, the Medicine Cards© deck comes with five or so ‘blank’ cards, which the authors or publishers suggest can be used for people who want to draw their own animals or insects or whatever. That’s not our thing. But we keep them in the deck for a two-fold purpose:

First, if we shuffle and shuffle and choose a “blank,” we take it to mean that we’re not grounded. Oftentimes we may be talking about extraneous things, joking around, being irreverent, or otherwise not being fully present to the task at hand, and we’ll get smacked by pulling a blank. So when we pull a blank, we know we need to settle ourselves and really get grounded and as clear as we can muster.

The other way we interpret the blanks is if they show up on the bottom of the deck after choosing our top or main card. If there is no other specific card showing up on the bottom to give the top card ‘context,’ then we consider that top pick ‘squared,’ and figure Spirit is telling us that the top card is either really important and we need to pay attention, or it’s influence is going to show up in our life very powerfully that day. Or both.

And so ends our Medicine Cards© Tutorial/the Weikel-Way,’ which was not what I initially intended to focus upon in this post. But I’ve rambled on far too long, and if my posts take up too much time for you to read, you may never come back!

Who am I kidding? Yes, I should keep my posts to a reasonable length. But this one went long, and I have 1104 left to write after this one, so I might as well save my Moose discussion for tomorrow. Thank you for reading; it really means a lot to me.