Timing – Day 1017

Posted on August 25, 2021August 25, 2021 by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments

Fallen Limb – Photo: L. Weikel

Timing

Timing – and the little choices we make from moment to moment – often has a profound influence on our life. Every day we have opportunities to make choices that have the potential to make a huge impact upon us. Sometimes we don’t even make a choice, one way or another. (Which is its own brand of choice.) And what’s even weirder is that most of the time we don’t even realize we’re making choices that could alter our destiny.

I was thinking about this as I took a walk earlier this evening. I’d come across an extremely thick and heavy chunk of a tree limb that had fallen onto the dirt and gravel roadway in the state park. I was grateful that I’d not been walking with Spartacus at the moment that chunk fell down.

Obviously the branch fell directly on the road, so neither other cars nor bicyclists were harmed. But it does make a person wonder – how close did I – or any of us frequenting this road at this time come to potential injury or death?

Bumblebee Exiting Peony Tree Blossom – Photo: L. Weikel

Another Perspective

Another way to appreciate the vagaries (or perhaps they’re hidden blessings?) of timing is the photo above. What are the chances that I could catch that bumblebee exiting the tree peony blossom at such an auspicious moment?

Of course, truth be told, they’re higher now than they ever were before (at least in my case) because of my iPhone. This exact frame of the photo I took of the bumblebee is the one that showed up in my photo feed. But even if it hadn’t, I technically would’ve been able to ‘freeze’ this single frame of the ‘live’ photo.

I find that to be amazing. In a sense, we don’t even have to be as talented or lucky as we used to be. This technology actually stretches time, giving us the opportunity to point to the concept of ‘timing’ with a knowing nod, but an ace up our sleeve.

Nevertheless, I’m still delighted by the fact that I can post a photo I took of a bumblebee literally midflight as it hauls ass out of a flower.

All of This to Say…

Don’t sweat any of it. The big stuff we worry about probably has less likelihood of messing up our lives than the little decisions we make every single minute of the day.

(T-94)

Metamorphosis – Day 918

Posted on May 18, 2021May 18, 2021 by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

“Hi, I’m Gorgeous” – Photo: L. Weikel

Metamorphosis

In our wanderings around the premises of Linwood Gardens over the weekend, we were treated to a smörgåsbord of flora and fauna in varying states of development and metamorphosis.

We encountered them everywhere, from tightly closed buds to fully flowered explosions of color and luminescence. Most tantalizing were the blooms ‘on the verge,’ so filled with the promise of bursting into magnificence yet almost magically held back by the thinnest evidence of restraint. It’s difficult to look at those achingly promising buds and not viscerally feel our own urge to burst forth into the world in a dazzling expression of our own uniqueness.

With respect to the flowers, it was hard to ignore the accumulation of life force in each bud. The earlier buds, those that were obviously not going to blossom within, say, 24 hours, were tough little nuggets of prospective beauty. But there was no mistaking those buds that were begging for just another hour or day more of warmth before unleashing themselves on the world.

Can’t Hold It In Any Longer – Photo: L. Weikel

Fantastic Frogs

Of course, the classic examples of true metamorphosis are our amphibian friends, which happen to populate the premises in abundance. In each pond, pool, and fountain we found evidence of every stage of life. Indeed, there were a few times that we realized if we sat still long enough and just stared into the water, even without the aid of a microscope we were witnessing almost countless examples of life being lived at a furious and frenzied pace.

From massive tadpoles to shy froglets to adults displaying themselves in glory as they basked in the sun’s warming rays, we were treated to a veritable science exhibit on the miracle of transformation these creatures display. We take their process for granted – at least I know I do. But the process of change from tadpole to frog is astonishing.

Tadpoles – Photo: L. Weikel

Teeming Life

In some ways, it felt like we were being given an opportunity to witness evolution on a micro scale. For myself, it felt like reassurance from Mother Nature herself that even if we humans really mess stuff up – which, let’s face it, in many ways and in many places we already have in a very big way – life will find a way.

Looked at one way, this is an extremely reassuring message. In another, it’s a stark reminder of just how inconsequential we humans are.

No matter how you look at it, it’s hard not to feel a sense of awe. It’s also worth pondering, for me at least, what transformation I want to continue creating in my life. Is another metamorphosis in the offing?

“Hey” – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-193)

Must See – Day 808

Posted on January 28, 2021January 28, 2021 by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

Photo: L. Weikel

Must See

One unexpected result of the pandemic, for me, has been my appreciation for the allure of Twitter. While I’m not one to initiate tweets, I readily admit to being a reader of them. I think my fascination with the platform arose during the George Floyd protests. Because I’ve carefully selected the people I ‘follow,’ I honestly feel my exposure to and understanding of the world has expanded tremendously. Mostly this expansion has related to politics, as well as breaking national and international news. But most recently? I was tipped off to watching something I can only say is a must see.

The tweet itself, like this post won’t, didn’t describe the program. In fact, it suggested, as I do as well, that you not read about the premise or, really, do any research on it before watching.

Just approach with an open mind and watch it.

Some Just Can’t

I realize that taking a risk – even if it’s just flirting with the possibility that I’ll waste 90 minutes or two hours on something that’s a dud – is something that floats my boat. It’s an especially intriguing prospect when I get the sense, vague as it might be, that it could push my perception of reality or of who I am. That’s like catnip to Cletus, baby. Sign me up.

But I realize that some of you might not be as turned on by the prospect of indulging in a film that has the potential to shift your conceptions. Maybe you need a little bit of a teaser (even if it’s recommended that you go into it with a paucity of preconceptions). For those of you, I offer the official trailer.

And for those of you who like to read reviews, here’s one from Rolling Stone. Perhaps Rotten Tomatoes is a leading indicator. I just checked and it’s got a 100% rating.

Detox

I recognize that I’ll be snagged back like a fish on a hook to watching what’s happening in Washington D.C. when the impeachment trial begins. And I admit to relishing the ability to peek in on press briefings from Jen Psaki, President Biden’s new Press Secretary, or to occasionally listen to highlights of briefings on Covid and the Climate Crisis.

But I must confess. After watching the interview I referenced last night with Senator Schumer, I’m actually giving myself permission to enter into a more comprehensive detoxification. I do not need to compulsively check my Twitter feed to assure myself we’re not on the brink of another crisis.

That’s not to say appalling information, especially with respect to the plotting behind the 1/6 insurrection, isn’t continuing to come to light. It is. And there are expositions of scandals buried and time bombs planted by the previous administration (hopefully not literally) just waiting to be revealed.

But for the first time in a very long time I’m starting to feel like I can breathe between crises.

And that means I can start taking the time again to contemplate the stuff that makes life worth living. My focus can return to that which reminds me of the magic of life. It’s that magic that feeds my passion for shamanic work and writing and journeying and listening.

Stir Your Soul

So…take a risk. Trust me. Don’t follow the links above. Instead, just watch In & Of Itself on Hulu. You need to see it to believe it. Or do you?

(T-303)

A Lot of Nothing – Day 304

Posted on September 12, 2019September 12, 2019 by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

A Lot of Nothing

I’m sitting here on my couch this evening wracking my brain for something – anything – to write about.

I shouldn’t really say ‘anything,’ since if I weren’t exercising a modicum of discernment, I could write about all sorts of things that are parading through my brain. And that’s where the title of this post comes in: A Lot of Nothing.

There are, indeed, many subjects I could riff on this evening. The obvious, extremely low-hanging fruit, would be 9/11. I don’t want to write about 9/11, though.

If I did start writing about 9/11, I’m sure I’d go down the rabbit hole and rant at the way the first responders to that horrible situation have been treated by Mitch McConnell and the Republicans. And I don’t want to do that.

I don’t want to write about the fires continuing to burn in the Amazon.

I’m decidedly sad about the children being forced to live in cages in Arizona – beyond sad. Sad is such a pathetic emotion. I’m outraged. I’m disgusted. I’m furious, and I don’t want to say it, but I’m bordering on feeling heartsick over what these people are enduring.

But I don’t want to write about them. Or this issue. It’s just all so relentlessly awful.

Weather Anyone?

Yes, indeed. I could write about the weather. But no; I won’t.

You’re welcome.

An Awful Thing Tonight

I could write about something awful that happened during our walk tonight.

The sun was long set and Mama Killa (pronounced as in Spanish: the ‘ll’ being like a soft ‘y’ as in ‘yah’) was blasting her reflected light down upon us, even casting distinct shadows, as if we were illuminated by a spotlight.

Two vehicles – big ones – at least in the range of Suburbans, but possibly even Enclaves or Armadas (you do have to roll your eyes at the names of those beasts, don’t you?) – were barreling toward us from the direction of the park (High Rocks), which technically closed at sunset. We made sure Sheila and Spartacus (as well as our own carcasses) were well off the side of the road, and Karl had his flashlight with green flashing warning light in full display, just to be safe.

As the first vehicle approached, its headlight flooded the pavement in front of us and I suddenly saw a snake absolutely booking it across the road. It was slithering in characteristic ‘s’ fashion astonishingly quickly – but it was headed in the wrong direction. It was headed away from us, toward the grass on the opposite side, almost certainly because it didn’t want to share space with us and the pups. But that was the ‘long way’ across the road.

Just as quickly, I could see that the Armada was going to mow it down. I knew it. I could tell simply by the speed and momentum of both snake and vehicle that the serpent would get clipped by the Armada’s far tire – the one closest to the edge of the road where the snake was headed. I yelled out, but I’m certain that not only didn’t the driver hear me, but even if they had, they wouldn’t have had any idea why I was crying out.

Giving Us a Wider Berth

I’ve been telling myself all night that the driver didn’t see the snake. That I didn’t really see the truck move over to the right even more – just to make sure they hit the creature that was brilliantly exposed by the headlights splayed across the pavement and moving as quickly as possible to get out of the way.

Even Karl had the same thought, but couched it this way: “I’m sure they moved over just then to give us a wider berth.”

Yeah. Sure. We can tell ourselves that. (And even if that is the case, I feel bad that we frightened the creature and caused it to move into harm’s way.)

So…that’s what I was thinking about tonight. Life. Death. Random loss. Cruel indifference. A lot of nothing.

Geez, it’s nights like these that you all probably wish I had some ‘canned’ pre-written posts about kittens. Or clouds.

Garter snake – Photographer unknown

P.S. It was a garter snake – a decent size, about 12” – and I moved it into the grass at the side of the road, hoping its head injury wasn’t life threatening. I’m pretty sure I was fooling myself, but I wanted to give it a chance to survive if it could.

(T-807)

Calling Card – Day 195

Posted on May 26, 2019October 10, 2019 by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

Calling Card – Photo: L. Weikel

Calling Card

When I went out on our porch this morning to give it a quick sweep, I looked over the edge and found a calling card. Not, perhaps, the type you might be thinking I’d find, though.

It was not the digestive ‘leavings’ of a creature, thank goodness. Nor was it the entrails of an unfortunate victim of the various four legged and winged predators we have skulking around in our fields, forests, and skies.

Nope. It was a feather. A hawk feather, to be precise. And I could not be more delighted.

As I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned before, when Hawk shows up in my life I always sit up and pay attention. Or I at least feel touched by a sense of specialness – sort of like I’m being given a gift from the Nature Spirits.

When I saw that feather laying on the ground this morning, nestled in the grass beside the huge stump of our now deceased English Walnut, a huge smile flashed across my face and my heart quickened. I propped my broom against one of the lattice-worked stools and nearly skipped down the steps, making my way around the back corner of the house to retrieve it.

What a prize!

Pursuing Tasty Snacks? Or…

Of course, on a purely mundane level, discovering a hawk feather quite close to one of my bird feeders does not bode well for my fine-feathered, mostly finch, friends who frequent those very feeders. That’s especially true when I realize that, at that very moment, there are no songbirds anywhere near the feeders. It’s as if they’ve all frozen in motion somewhere, playing avian statues.

And yet, aside from the single hawk feather, there’s no sign of a struggle; not anything close to an indication that a raptor may have snagged a snack and met a feisty refusenik who may even have succeeded in dislodging a feather of its predator.

So why remain on the level of the superficial, the physical, the obvious?

Bringing a Message

I’d much rather contemplate the possibility that Hawk is coming to me specifically to rekindle the flames of my passion for writing. That it may be whispering, “It’s time now, Lisa. Time to stop, take yourself to the creek, and go within. Time to remember why you write. And time to remember our quest many moons ago when we worked together to birth Owl Medicine.”

Yeah, maybe that’s what I want the Hawk feather to mean.

And truth be told it could mean that. It could also simply be calling me and bringing me the message to, “Pay attention.”

A lot has happened in the past few days – suddenly – to people who matter a great deal to me. People I love. And I want them to know how deeply I care, and how much I want them to recover and to get better quickly and easily.

So perhaps Hawk left its calling card to remind me, too, of the message that things (LIFE) can change drastically in the blink of an eye. We all know it; yet sometimes we need the reminder.

Maybe I will gain a little more understanding as the days unfold. Or maybe I just need to let myself be – the messenger.

(T-916)

Mary Oliver – Day Sixty Eight

Posted on January 19, 2019January 19, 2019 by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments

Mary Oliver – 9/10/35 – 1/17/19

I feel an undeniable resonance with Mary Oliver’s love affair with Mother Nature. The way in which her words reflect my own yearning to hear the stories and know the essence of All Life makes my heart both ache and sing.

The following poem felt like it was speaking to me today, and I want to share it with you. Surely she knew we would be reading it this very day? One day after her soul broke free of the cocoon lately stalked by the fourth sign of the zodiac? By every word, it feels that way to me.