I wasn’t initially intending upon writing about the cool numbers associated with this blog post, but they caught my eye as I saved the first draft. I can’t remember if I thought about these same numbers when I was ‘only’ on my 404th post, with 707 left to write.
Apparently not. I just checked, and the post I wrote on that day was all about the Winter Solstice (2019) and my participation in the I AM Solstice Symposium the next day.
As I recall, the Solstice last year was a day filled with intensity and drama. It was unpleasant and tough to witness, even if vicariously, for I cared very much for the safety and well-being of those involved. Imagine my surprise when I discovered a few weeks later that it had all been an elaborate ruse, a ‘hoax,’ if you will, apparently strung out over months – if not years.
This has me hopscotching to the upcoming Winter Solstice, nine weeks from tomorrow (technically ‘today,’ when this is read). There is a major astrological aspect that’s going to occur on that day, December 21st, and while I can’t remember what it is at the moment, I know it is significant.
I’ll check on it and get back to you with details.
In the Meantime
In the meantime, let’s face it. December 21st is nine long weeks away. Yes, in some ways it is but a stone’s throw from now. But good grief, I do believe we are all weary, wary, and wise enough to realize that an unbelievable amount of change – for good or for ill, or perhaps both? – can occur in that period of time.
Indeed, I do want to call upon all of you to please, no matter where you live – in the United States or elsewhere in the world – please take good care of yourselves. Social distance. Wear a mask whenever you’re out and about. Only go out and about as infrequently as possible. Zealously wash your hands.
We hear these admonitions all the time, but my spidey-senses are pricking my ears and I’m feeling a sense of urgency that we double and triple our personal and collective vigilance.
Maybe it’s the 707/404 combo that’s bringing home to me the 1111 of it all.
Stay safe, my friends. And drink in the cosmic color and energetic vibration of these exquisite dahlias when you need a boost.
Yes, by the time this post is read by any of you, August 2020 will be here. We will be seven full months into the cataclysmic year of 2020 and embarking upon month number eight.
Who amongst us isn’t freaking excited by the prospects? Huh? Come on. I know I can’t be the only one on the edge of my seat with anticipation over what revelations and curveballs await us this month?
Glad to See July End
Don’t get me wrong. I’m the last person to challenge worse. But I have to tell you: this last day of July has been a rough one. I’ll almost certainly write about what made today particularly discomfiting for me, but I have to sleep on it and assess the damage tomorrow.
But it’s not looking good.
Let’s just say the wild, torrential rain that accompanied some excellent thunder and lightning last night took an unexpected toll.
Biodiversity Project
I might as well use this opportunity to remind everyone that tomorrow is, indeed, the first of August. That means it’s time once again to lend your energy and intention to the Perelandra Biodiversity Project, which I’ve been encouraging participation in for well over a year now. (And just so it’s clear: I have no financial interest in Perelandra. I do not get a single penny for my enthusiasm. I simply love the concept and the sincere dedication of the organization and its founder to promoting our conscious partnership with Nature.)
This process, using Essence of Perelandra, is incredibly simple and quick. The whole procedure from start to finish takes no more than five minutes. And the loveliest part about it, in my opinion, besides the potential for fulfilling the overarching intention of restoring balance and harmony between all living things on your land or in your space, is the simple act of bringing awareness to the land on which you live.
Whenever I open Sacred Space, I specifically include and ‘call in’ the Spirits of the Place where I am doing the ceremony or engaging in sacred work. As a species, we’ve grown more and more oblivious to the sentience of anything other than other humans. Some people acknowledge the sentience of animals (especially their pets), but fewer and fewer still consider wild animals, insects, or plants as having a form of consciousness. It’s extremely rare for anyone outside of our brothers and sisters who retain their indigenous roots and connections to accord the land – and Mother Earth herself – sentience.
So beyond the explicit intention of restoring and healing the balance of diversity ‘in our own back yards’ that the Biodiversity Project fosters, I personally love the awareness it brings to each of us who engage in it. In the midst of these chaotic, uncertain, and oftentimes frightening times, engaging in this process asks us to simply STOP for five minutes and BE with where we are. It asks us to acknowledge our interconnectedness with All That Is. And it’s so incredibly simple and easy.
Simple – Like Wearing a Mask
The ease with which we might make an enormous difference in the energetic balance of our environment (including the environment within our own selves) by doing this simple process is akin to the huge difference the simple act of wearing a mask can make in protecting all of us and contributing to stopping the spread of the Coronavirus.
I guess I’m left wondering why we resist engaging in little steps that very possibly could make a humongous difference in the trajectory of our existence here on Earth. Are we afraid they won’t work and we’ll look foolish? If they don’t work, and we all die or the Earth becomes so out of balance that climate change inundates us (and kills us all in other ways besides the current pandeminc) to whom will we look foolish?
Community
Another significant benefit to engaging in the Biodiversity Project is knowing that I’m joining people all over the world in a collective and sincere effort to make things just a little bit better. I love envisioning the web of interconnected love and caring that is established when I contemplate our united efforts.
As August arrives, if you have a bottle of Essence of Perelandra, join me. Read the instructions here and take a moment – at any time during the 1st day of the month – to help reclaim balance and healing for us all. We’re all connected. What benefits one benefits all.
If you don’t have a bottle of Essence of Perelandra – order one for September 1st. Goodness knows, I’m sure we’ll need more and more intentions set for balance and healing by then.
And although I’m sure I don’t need to say it, I will say it anyway: Wear a mask. For you. For me. For us.
I took a ride late this afternoon to enjoy a little bit of alone time with my beloved Tohickon Creek. But I’ll be honest: it wasn’t enough. I’m going to have to go back – and soon. My mesa rode shotgun, though. And I’m pleased to report, as can be seen, she was considerate of others.
Even though it’s easy for me to maintain complete isolation when I go to the creek (primarily because I won’t stop or sit along her banks if there are any human beings in sight), I find I’ve not been to the Tohickon anywhere near as often as usual. I realize it’s not because I’m wary of visiting the creek. It’s because I so rarely get in my car and drive anywhere anymore.
Yes, I can walk there from our house, and I do – occasionally. But my more routine visits were always spontaneous stops on my way to, but more often than not on my way home from, client appointments, errands, and various other excursions.
As a result of the pandemic, I barely drive anywhere anymore.
Refreshment
This was the temperature display at a bank along Route 611 this evening. While I grant that this outdoor thermometer tends to routinely lean toward the high side, I can vouch that my car’s thermometer indicated 90 degrees at that same moment. And as you can see, it was nearly 6:00 p.m. when I took this photo. Earlier in the day, it had been even hotter.
Imagine, then, my gratitude when a mere mile and a half away, I pulled off the road and alongside my favorite place in the world. How could I feel anything other than magically refreshed, allowing myself to drink in the serenity of this place?
Tohickon – Cool Respite – Photo: L. Weikel
Reflection
I’m finding myself contemplative on this eve of our country’s birth. I am marveling at how different this 4th of July weekend feels, for so many reasons, obviously.
Because of the pandemic, we’re not going to be traveling to Connecticut, where we’ve celebrated for decades. That’s a big break from tradition, and I feel wistful recalling the homemade blueberry muffins and Motherpeace readings, to name a few of my favorite memories. (Not to mention Jarts, croquet, lobsters, Wimbledon, and a myriad other treasured experiences.)
On a larger scale – from the personal to the national – it feels like this Independence Day is being viewed through a completely new pair of glasses. Suddenly, we’re seeing who we are as a country with an incredible new clarity that’s both deeply uncomfortable and also truly liberating.
The fact that we’re even discussing our historic oppression and mistreatment of our fellow Americans (including those who called this land home for thousands of years before white people ever stepped onto these shores) is heartening and exciting.
This is our history. It is important to tell the truth, even if it’s ugly and painful. Because that’s where our true freedom rests. In honesty. In gratitude. In forgiveness.
Old Man In Repose Among the Clouds – Photo: L. Weikel
Chill Out
Ha ha – I’m undoubtedly dating myself with the title to this post. Meh – that’s ok. There could be a lot worse phrases from my youth that I could proffer at this moment. “Chill out,” seems to be one of the most benign.
All the signs are here. We’re receiving a message. Are we listening?
Even the dramatic change we’re experiencing in the weather appears to be making a statement. (Of course, I’m speaking for eastern Pennsylvania, but I’m pretty sure many other places are getting a similar message.) It was oppressively hot today. And if the Weather Channel is worth its salt, we apparently have many more days ahead of us, all in a row, to practice our ability to remain calm, cool, and collected in the midst of one shit storm after another.
Even Walking Was Rough
We put off walking until the last possible moment this evening. And even then the heat took a toll on all of us. Spartacus panted the whole way and we only did our two mile jaunt.
Meanwhile, Sheila’s been sitting out on our walks for several days now, only managing to stroll up the road a piece and back again. Just enough to get her system moving enough to qualify as a ‘constitutional.’
Taking Cues From The Man
When I saw this guy so obviously in repose in the sky yesterday, I had to take his photo. I knew he was bringing all of us a message.
It’s time to stay home. Kick back. Stay cool. Read a book. Wear a mask.
Yup.
I’m taking my cues from the Man In the Sky: “Chill out.” I suggest we all heed his advice while we can.
