darkness

Unsettled – ND #120

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Photo: L. Weikel

Unsettled

I don’t know what’s been going on with me lately. I’m feeling profoundly unsettled, and I’m pondering what to do about it – if there’s even anything I can do.

By my reckoning, tonight’s post is my 1,231st. The initial 1111 were consecutive – not a day (or perhaps more accurately – not a 24 hour period) went by without me writing something to share with my readers. When I reached my professed goal, I indulged in a 12-day hiatus. And since then, I’ve written another 120 short posts, mostly observations of nature and contemplations on life, with a heavy emphasis on walking, puppies, clouds, and cats and a smattering of political and social observations.

Most of the time, even though I almost always think, “Ugh; I’ve nothing to write about tonight,” I’ll look at the photos I took with my iPhone and some small tale will ask to be told. Or a cloud formation will vie for my attention. Or some celestial event will either beg to be witnessed and reported on or its energetic influence on our lives offer to be contemplated.

Occasionally, tarot cards or a selection from an oracle deck might lend a perspective for us to reflect upon.

Dial Tone

Recently, however, I’ve been experiencing what I can best describe as a creative dial tone when I sit here with my fingertips poised above my keyboard.

Perhaps it’s knowing what’s going on in Ukraine that’s making me feel…mute. Or maybe it’s reading the headlines or hearing about the abhorrent attitudes and beliefs being spewed by so very many people who should know better. Or if they don’t know better, should not be in a position of leadership, power, or influence.

But I have to say, the images from Ukraine and the inner depths of darkness that must be within the soldiers who committed these acts seem to render me…bereft. The ability to perpetrate such acts upon another person has to stem from hopelessness.

What Has Happened?

It all seems to be related. And surely it must be – why else would we be seeing such harshness and cruelty toward ‘others’ all over the world? Is humanity bored? Has our species become so stagnant that, instead of joining together to care for the future of the Earth and the animals and our fellow humans, we’ve collectively just decided to say, “Screw it; let’s burn it all down?”

Again, it feels like hopelessness is the culprit. Which is interesting to me. Because I think so many of us think love is the answer. But love, while I do believe it is fundamentally the most powerful force in the Universe (all Universes), has – as a concept – become watered down and misunderstood.

No. I think hope is what we yearn for in our hearts right now.

The question is, where can we find it and how can each of us cultivate it in our lives?

Photo: L. Weikel

(T+120)

Wherewithal – ND #8

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments
Lounging – Photo: L. Weikel

Wherewithal

I have a bunch of things I’d like to write about tonight but each topic deserves more thought and effort than I have the wherewithal to muster at this moment. Wherewithal. That’s a cool word.

I feel a tug to pull a couple cards for us, too. But not tonight. I’m thinking maybe Friday or Saturday night. I’ll ask what we need to ILLUMINATE in our lives and perhaps shed or set aside at this full moon. What has reached its fullness in our lives and is ready to move on?

It might benefit all of us to pose that question silently to ourselves now, actually. You know, give ourselves a couple of days to ruminate on the question.

We’re coming up on a powerful time – the winter solstice (here in the Northern Hemisphere, anyway) – the longest night of the year.

Light in the Darkness

It’s important to notice whether any of the intentions we set at the new moon are culminating this week. Or perhaps there are longer term projects that are beginning to see the light of day.

It’s easy for me to plant the seeds of what I’d like to create or manifest in my life – and then forget to ‘check in’ with the Universe to see right where I am at the present moment. It’s an essential practice.

Sometimes we just need to remember to light a candle or otherwise bring some light to the darkness. And sometimes the darkness that’s darkest is what’s inside of us. So in lieu of swallowing fire, how do we find a light in the darkness of our thoughts and feelings?

I’m thinking.

(T+8)

Schitt’s Creek – Day 653

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Promise on the Horizon – Photo: L. Weikel

Schitt’s Creek

In an effort to avoid as much deliberately-induced anxiety as possible, Karl and I decided to abstain from political fare this week. We’re choosing instead to rely primarily on video clips embedded in news articles for a recap of the state of our country as viewed by the Republican Party. Which brings me to what we’ve been watching instead: Schitt’s Creek.

We only started watching this show, which ran for five seasons, about six weeks ago. It just aired its last episode on Netflix this past April – and I’m pretty sure we started watching it because of the affection expressed by viewers who seemed genuinely sad to see it end.

It took us a couple episodes to get into it, but the campy characters and their affectations are both over-the-top and endearing. There’s no violence or ugliness. It’s mostly about relationships, primarily superficial ones, but some of them are particularly playful and truly fun to watch develop.

Most importantly, though, the show is an easy, light, and playful escape from, well, the shit’s creek we find ourselves up, especially as Americans, if we’re clear-eyed and honest. And just catching some of the clips from the two evenings of the RNC extravaganza so far, makes it clear (if it wasn’t already) that we’re navigating without a paddle.

(No. I couldn’t leave it. It had to be said. You knew it was coming. I tried to muzzle myself but, in the end, I couldn’t resist.)

The truth is, we’ve streamed an especially generous number of episodes of Schitt’s Creek over the past couple of days – and the irony just had to translate into a blog post.

The Alternative

The alternative to me making lame jokes about the name of a television series and extolling its efficacy in allowing our minds to slip into neutral for an evening is – you guessed it – more cloud sharing.

Tonight we witnessed some towering specimens of magnificence, which then gradually gave forth to some startlingly ominous and threatening banks of darkness. And yes, the metaphors weren’t lost on us.

It was as if we were witnessing a water vapor enhanced exposition of the soaring visions painted last week juxtaposed against the oppressive boogeymen of fear and oppression on offer this week. What was most remarkable, perhaps, was the rapidity with which the transformation occurred.

Looking NW – Photo: L. Weikel

A Warning

All of which feels like an essential reminder and warning to all of us. Things can change dramatically (in a myriad of ways) in the blink of an eye. We make assumptions at our peril.

We mustn’t be afraid – but we also must, at the same time, remain vigilant and steadfast in what we know to be of greatest importance in life. We’re living in unprecedented times, and we’re being asked to choose the world we want to both create and leave as our legacy.

Do we choose to see and build on the beauty? On love? Or will we focus on the darkness, the fear, and the division?

It’s up to us. And our choices are our paddle.

Looking NE – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-458)

Pretty Dark – Day 652

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Rainbow dark sky – Photo: L. Weikel

Pretty Dark

I don’t know you guys. Things are pretty dark out there. Early this evening a strong thunderstorm came through, turning the sky the slate gray of a catbird’s feathers. It was only about ten minutes before I caught a glimpse of sunlight gilding the very crowns of the trees outside our living room windows, when I knew I had to chase a rainbow.

Sure enough, I found one. It was pale, and felt a bit insincere, almost as if it really wasn’t sure it wanted to make an appearance. The sky behind the bow was lackluster as well. It appeared wan, almost as if the storm had lost all its conviction.

Projecting

I have a strong feeling I’m projecting my own malaise upon the weather I observed this evening. Perhaps it’s allergies provoked by ragweed just starting to burst forth in all its golden glory, but all day I resisted a headache lurking at the edges of my brain. I just didn’t feel quite right.

So it was an effort to drag myself on a walk this evening once the aforementioned thunderstorm came and went. Karl wasn’t pushing one way or another, in deference, I suspect to my lingering headache. But I’m glad we walked; the clouds cheered me up. (A surprise to hear, I’m sure.)

For whatever reason, I saw dragons tonight. As we first headed out, the head of one belching forth a stream of smoke kicked off the evening’s entertainment. A stretch, perhaps, but it was clear to me.

Then, nearly two full miles later, in a completely different quadrant of the sky, the full body of another dragon showed up to dance under the light of the waxing moon.

Dragon belching smoke – Photo: L. Weikel

Inner Ferocity

It’s interesting that Dragon energy seemed to reveal itself tonight, especially considering how benign I felt the sky appeared as we set out on our evening trek. Perhaps it’s encouraging me to tap into some sense of inner ferocity in order to chase away the malaise of the day.

Burning away some of the dross of 2020 would probably serve us all in good stead.

Dancing Dragon – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-459)

Another New Moon – Day 617

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Photo: L. Weikel

Another New Moon

Ah yes, tonight is yet another new moon, another new beginning in the lunar cycle that definitely and peculiarly influences us, whether we realize it consciously or not.

There is a period of time each month known as the ‘dark moon,’ when the night sky is the darkest because no portion of the moon is illuminated. The ‘upside’ to the time when Grandmother Moon is invisible is the way her absence allows our eyes to take our star-gazing to a whole new level. In the darkness, we’re actually able to see a whole lot more of what’s really out there.

Is This a Metaphor?

I don’t know why, but this new moon I am more acutely aware of the darkness than I’ve been in a very long time. It feels like we’re cloaked in darkness at the moment – our country, our world. And yet, at the same time, precisely because we’ve plunged into this darkness, we’re seeing things that have been there all along, but we’re only just now allowing our eyes to adjust enough to really see.

As I’ve written about a number of times before, at the time of the new moon, it’s a time of new beginnings. I’m usually enthusiastic about the opportunity a new moon gives us to plant new seeds, to set the intention of what we want to start cultivating in our lives over the next month or year, cultivating as our future.

Something’s Different

I feel a need to shift my focus a bit this month, take a bit of a different approach with this new moon. Yes, I want to set some intentions and call in new energy. I want to infuse new life into some of my greatest hopes and cherished goals. Absolutely.

But for some reason or another, I feel like the power of this new moon lies more in its ability to reveal a whole lot of stuff that’s been lurking behind the scenes, hiding in plain sight, but remaining unseen because we’ve been blinded – or at least distracted – by the light. And it feels like it’s time. It’s time to stop for a moment, in this Time of the Dark Moon, and take stock of what it is that’s right there, right in front of us, being revealed for us to finally see.

Because right now, if we don’t take the time to look and see what’s been there all this time – and deal with it – it will be a huge missed opportunity. Why? Because nothing we plant at the time of this new moon will flourish the way it could, the way we hope it will, if we don’t act on what’s being revealed in this darkness and get rid of that which either never or no longer serves the highest good.

Photo: astrologyally.com

What Light Nurtures?

It’s important to remember, sometimes, that the light that’s been distracting us hasn’t even been ‘Light’ – meaning light that originates from its own source – light that’s generative, warm, and nurturing. No, it’s been reflected light. Illusory light. Light that can seem pretty bright and even dazzling at times, but doesn’t warm us, doesn’t feed us, doesn’t coax us to grow toward it.

So I am finding myself contemplating this a lot the past few days. Yes, the full moon is usually when we realize the completion of things, the realization that some aspects of our life may have reached their peak and need to be released.

But the new moon, with its attendant darkness, is also an opportunity to let go. It gives us the chance to see what’s been hiding in the light, hoping we’ll be entranced by the brightness and fail to notice the stuff that perhaps doesn’t have our best interests at heart but wants to remain undetected.

Perhaps, in our own lives, these cloaked beasts are lies we tell ourselves about situations or people, lies about our fears or our weaknesses. They hide in the dark. But maybe this is the window when we can see them and face the truth.

Bring Them Into the Sunlight

If we bring those hiding saboteurs into the sunlight, everything can change. The entire landscape of where we plant the new seeds of our desires and intentions is cleared.

Take a look at what might be lurking in the darkness. Don’t be afraid to see it and call it out for what it is. Only then can we plant the Seeds of Our Becoming without fear of the distractions of a false light.

(T-494)

Getting Out the Door – Day 423

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Pile of Beasts at My Feet – Photo: L. Weikel

Getting Out the Door

Karl and I took a walk this evening. I realize this is not, in itself, “BREAKING NEWS,” especially since we’ve managed a walk every single day that it hasn’t rained so far this year. It’s a solid start to the decade.

Anyway, it was around 6:30 p.m. when we made it out the door tonight, so darkness was ‘full-on.’

Let me be clear: tonight was one of those nights when we just barely made it out the door. Neither one of us was inclined to brave the cold, probably because it’s been so mild up to this point. Hearing the wind pick up and blow the front door open made it seem even colder than it was.

Indeed, I think we were each hoping the other would just boldly back out or at the very least express a sincere, compelling, and justifiable desire to remain home.

Alas, whining about how cold we were before we’d even gone outside failed to meet that threshold. Whining that we were sore, or just plain tired and cranky didn’t work either. Whining, while routinely attempted, rarely if ever wins the day in this household.

We did, however, cut Sheila some slack. We allowed her to remain asleep, snuggled in her blankets, snoring rhythmically. She’s been under the weather recently. She’s on antibiotics for what seems like a low-grade infection in a couple of places. But she’s also experiencing some other age-related issues, and we don’t want to stress her.

She may drag her heels when we start out on a walk, but regardless of whether we go two or four miles, once she’s warmed to the idea, she’s all in. (Spartacus, on the other hand, is always game.)

Blue Light

As soon as we started walking up the road this evening, we were enchanted. The moon was rising, and had climbed to about a third of the way up into the sky. Puffy clouds were in the sky, and the moon’s reflection was so distinctly brilliant, it bounced off the clouds and it almost looked like a very overcast day.

Yet everything was tinged in a distinctly blue light. For the most part, the sky was astonishingly clear (especially given how cloudy it had been late this afternoon when snow squalls threatened), which only made the distinct ease of viewing the cumulus clouds even more stunning.

All the way around (yes, we only did the ‘walk-around’ of 2.2 miles), we kept marveling at the brightness illuminating the fields, filtering through the leafless branches of the woods, and the blue tinge to absolutely everything.

Is It Cheating?

We walked a long chunk of the distance in silence. Discussing politics, especially recent events, felt like we were fouling the environment. Talk of work was far too mundane to bring out into the blue light.

Was it cheating to deliberately wait until we stood a good chance of hearing the Great Horned Owls and the Screech Owls we’d heard a few nights ago, calling to each other across the ravine  slashed into the earth by the Tohickon?

Who cares? We both needed a restorative dose of Mother Earth. And I have to tell you: it was more than worth the effort to bundle up!

If you have a chance, take in that stunning moon that’s so very close to fullness. Look at the world through cornflower blue lenses. I guarantee you won’t regret it.

(T-688)

Darkness – Day 242

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Winds in Opposition – Photo: L. Weikel

Darkness                              

The weather today felt foreboding. Darkness infiltrated every nook and cranny and, disturbingly, that dramatic lack of light was not at all associated with the end of the day.

I took the photo, above, in a feeble attempt to capture the eerie way the clouds were moving well before today’s storm actually arrived. (Of course, video captured it much more effectively than did the still shots.) Nevertheless, the layers of clouds were obvious and pronounced, and even in the still photo, you can almost see how the middle layer of whitish clouds was moving in a completely opposite direction of the other two darker layers.

Layers of Cloudy Chaos

This contrary movement felt (and looked) ominous. Inside, it felt (and looked) as though all the curtains had been drawn and we were waiting for…something…to drop.

The quality of the thunder seemed different today as well. Instead of cracks of thunder, the evidence of lightning super-charging the air sounded more like what I might imagine bombs would sound like. Again, in spite of my fervent love of thunderstorms, I felt uneasy. And I was not alone.

The sun will come out tomorrow (to coin a phrase). I know that.

But I have to admit, witnessing the rapidity with which everything flooded today here in our neck of Pennsylvania, I feel a deep concern for New Orleans, as well as many other low-lying coastal areas. It’s not even the middle of July yet and New Orleans is staring down the arrival of its first hurricane of the season, which is expected to make landfall over the weekend. And we’re only at “B” in the season’s naming process.

Even the concept of climate change seems quaint at this point. We are in the midst of a full blown climate crisis. We need to stop pussy-footing around this truth and bring all of our formidable resources (both creative and economic) to bear on responding to the reality of this truth.

Within minutes of today’s deluge – Photo: L. Weikel

What I guess I don’t understand is why people feel a need to argue the origin of this crisis. Our climates are changing radically all over the Earth. Regardless of ‘who’ or ‘what’ started it, the ice at the poles and the permafrost as well are melting exponentially faster than had been predicted. Everything is changing – again, exponentially more rapidly – as a result. We cannot afford to continue this insane pattern of denial.

Yes, the darkness that overlay the area today was, arguably, a passing storm. But I can feel in the core of my being that we are whistling past the graveyard as we continue to pretend there’s “nothing to see here.” Darker days are ahead if we do not act now to demand better of our lawmakers. This provincial, head-in-the-sand, fingers-stuck-in-our-ears repeating “lalalalalala” approach to this climate crisis is the epitome of darkness.

We need to stop denying what’s right before our eyes. We must refuse the temptation to retreat and accept the darkness. Together we must shine our Light on this crisis – and demand immediate action and accountability.

(T-869)