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A Move to Substack

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments
Happy Earth Day, with love – Photo: L. Weikel

Hi everyone!

It’s been a long time since I created a post here, and I’m finally feeling like it’s time to move forward and begin connecting with the outside world again.  A move to Substack is in the offing, and I hope you’ll follow me there!

As most of you know, I’m not the most technologically savvy individual, but I am embracing the challenge to jump on the Substack bandwagon and shift my communications to that platform.

I promised myself I would reach out and create my first Substack post by the full moon (which occurs tomorrow night – at 7:48 p.m. EDT). And, heck, it doesn’t hurt that today is Earth Day, either, since so much of what’s important to me is connected to Mother Earth. It won’t technically be Earth Day anymore when you receive this, but I did actually write and post that first Substack missive tonight.

Speaking of which, HERE is the link to my very first Substack post!

I am going to do my best to import your email addresses to that platform, which will enable you to read all my future posts more easily than forcing me to post in two places. And yes, this is where my command of the technology gets dicey. So I do beg your indulgence and hope you’ll forgive me if you receive some duplicate posts or other annoyances.

Benefits?

If you follow the link to my Substack account, you’ll see that you can simply choose to subscribe for free there and receive my regular posts as I publish them. Will I write a post every single day forever and ever? That’s highly doubtful. But I will be devoted to maintaining frequent connection and communication with you. My intention is to renew my relationship with all of you and share the same type of photos, messages, musings, and myriad other observations that I did while fulfilling my 1111 Devotion commitment. Only now, I’m simply engaging in a Devotion to Paying Attention.

If you choose to become a paying subscriber, you will be actively supporting me and my efforts as I finally get down to writing those sequels I’ve been talking about for twenty years. There was a time when I wondered whether I’d ever feel compelled to tell the rest of the story. This project and my move to Substack is proof that the urge has returned.

But first, I will be posting, chapter by chapter, the content of my spiritual memoir, Owl Medicine. I’m offering this as a benefit to my paid subscribers so you can easily bring yourself “up to speed” and enter the realm of my second book, The Quest, with a clear recollection of the events that had just transpired in our lives. I’d also like to think that reading Owl Medicine again might bring you different insights or new perspectives than you might have experienced when (and if) you read it before.

Back to Paying Attention

I’m offering these sneak-peeks, so to speak, of the chapters of my newest book both for your enjoyment and – pointedly – as an incentive to myself to keep writing. If I promise you chapters, I’m going to deliver! It’s yet another layer of devotion to my readers. Of course, the book as ultimately published will undoubtedly have chapters rearranged, as well as lots of editing applied to my prose. But that could be fun, too. You’ll be watching the evolution of a memoir in real time.

Please join me in paying attention once again, together, to the wonders all around us. Remember: it’s the little things that often make the biggest difference in our lives. We just need to remember to be present, pay attention, and listen.

The Emerald – ND #143

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Sky Bridge (to our ancestors?) – Photo: L. Weikel

The Emerald

It’s been almost exactly two months since I discovered a podcast that I’m excited to share with you. It’s a wonderful respite from my usual fare, which runs the gamut of legal analysis of current affairs and politics to astrology. Instead of any of those topics, The Emerald covers subjects that make me smile and nod, and occasionally gasp at the resonance with what I know in my heart to be true.

I took a podcasting course two years ago, and then re-took it again this past fall. No, I haven’t been holding out on you. The idea remains, but finding the internal bandwidth to create it on a consistent basis eludes me. For now, anyway.

But the course itself was wonderful, both technically and in the fact that it introduced me to a cadre of people I never would’ve met had we not shared the aspiration to give literal voice to our passions. I hung out in a couple of groups self-selected for our shared interests, and it was in one of those that I received a recommendation to check out The Emerald Podcast.

An Irony

In spite of the fact that I took a podcasting course – twice, no less –I actually listened to very, very few, especially at the time. I don’t want to spend my time in nature with AirPods in my ears. I still resist shutting out the voices of the wind and birds, the stomping of deer hooves and accompanying snorts, the songs of the peepers, tree frogs, crickets and locusts. (Yes, I was surprised the other day to hear locusts so early in the summer.)

I listen to more podcasts now, though I still find myself only listening part-way to a lot of them. The Emerald, though, is different. The creator, Joshua Michael Schrei, has both a delivery and depth of knowledge that I respect, enjoy, and am inspired by.

Yearning to Share

A real plus for me has been the fact that I discovered The Emerald only recently – but it began back in 2019. So I have four years’ worth of episodes I’ve been slowly working my way through, savoring them bit by bit.

But the episode that captured my attention and engendered my devotion was this one: Animism is Normative Consciousness. It’s a rebroadcast (May 9, 2023) of one of his earlier episodes. I’m not entirely sure what possessed him to go back and add to it, apparently tweaking it from its original broadcast (which I believe I’m only an episode or two away from reaching). But as it happens, the remastered episode landed in my email inbox on May 9th of this year and its title kept nagging at me until I surrendered. All I can say is that, when I finally listened, it made my heart beat a little faster and all my cells sing, “Yes!”

So, my friends. I want the opportunity to make your hearts sing in exclamation, too. Give this a try. You’ll catch your breath and know the truth of what you’re hearing. And hopefully, you’ll understand why I’ve been yearning to share this with you.

ND #143

Flicker – ND #142

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Flicker, left profile – Photo: L. Weikel

Flicker

I found a feather the other day as I was walking past High Rocks State Park. I made the discovery shortly after the rain finally abated after falling all day. Gray clouds persisted overhead and the feather, sadly, was caked with mud. I noticed it anyway because fragments of bright yellow still managed to peek out from its sad, soggy condition. What was that? A flicker? A glimmer of light amidst all the dirt and damp?

I picked the feather up, of course, if only out of respect. It was in sad shape, but I figured it only needed a quick run under the faucet. Yanking a couple strands from my scalp, I offered them in exchange and appreciation for the bird’s loss.

It was risky, but I stowed the feather gently in the front pouch of my hooded sweatshirt. The feather was superficially a mess, but it felt like a messenger and I wanted to honor it.

Yet Another Encounter

Fast forward a handful of days to this afternoon. Again, I’m out walking, about a zig-zag mile away from where I found the feather. Also again, the sky is overcast, the atmosphere thick with mist and about 20 degrees cooler than the day before. This time my attention is snagged by a furtive rustling amongst the dry, dead oak leaves littering the berm of the road. There! A bird, with coloring that allowed it to blend in yet stand out. Quite a trick. (And luckily, I was on a solo trek, because I’m sure Pacha and Brutus would’ve pounced on it.)

Oh, what a beauty! It hopped amidst the twigs and detritus seemingly unafraid. It scratched and poked, attempted feigned indifference, then glanced at me to discern my intentions. While I was able to walk right up to it, if I had to guess, I’d say it was just young and inexperienced. It didn’t appear to be wounded or compromised in any way, which was a relief, and the main reason I approached it.

I spoke to it gently and took a couple photos. And I made sure to tell this winged creature how much I appreciated its intriguing coloring and design, especially the magnificent heart at the back of its head. Of all the birds for me to discover ‘in the feather’ one-on-one, here was the very same kind – a flicker – that had left me a feather only a few days earlier.

Flicker, its heart at the back of its head – Photo: L. Weikel

Walking It Off

As it happened, I was walking off the effects of a profound discovery I’d just made within myself. If I made a choice I knew I was being asked to contemplate, my soul would collapse within itself. My heart would break. Sounds hyperbolic, I know; but that’s how it felt at the time. In short, I was feeling an absolute gut-level certainty that I couldn’t – mustn’t – go back. I thought I could, but my body and soul said otherwise.

I’d actually walked about six miles by the time I came across the bird – a Flicker, of course, in case you haven’t guessed. By that time, I’d not only processed my visceral reaction to the choice presented to me, but also pivoted within myself to embrace an alternative that felt like a ray of warm sunshine. A flicker of hope? The choice couldn’t be more obvious; the message more clear.

Looking It Up

Naturally, as soon as I arrived home, I consulted my trusty Animal Speak*, by Ted Andrews. I was delighted to discover almost two full pages of information. Following are just a few tidbits that called out to me:

“Keynote: New Rhythm of Growth and Healing Love.

(…) Flickers are woodpeckers in the process of changing from life in the trees to life on the ground. Because of the tapping and drumming that all woodpeckers do in their search for food, they have connections to new rhythms coming into your life.

(…)

The flicker is a golden-winged woodpecker. It often has a red patch on the back of its head and a black crescent on its breast, all of which are very symbolic. When it flies up from the grass, it takes off in a strong, bounding flight, flashing the gold of its wings. When a flicker comes into your life, it will reflect new bounding leaps of spiritual growth.

The red on the back of its head reflects a stimulation of the chakra centers of the head – the throat, brow, and crown centers. These centers will be stimulated into new activity. The reflects that latent talents and intuition are going to be activated to a greater degree.

(…)

If flicker has come into your life, it indicates a time of rapid growth and trust. Flicker will awaken a new rhythm and the ability and opportunity to manifest all-healing love.”

Trust

And there it is. While I might personally feel like the feather I found a few days ago, muddy and a bit battered, the bright ray of hope represented by the yellow shaft of a flicker demands a certain amount of trust. Trust in myself. Trust in my unique path. And trust that when I ask for it, my allies conspire with Nature and All Life to bring me the guidance and insight I seek.

ND #142

Flicker, right profile – Photo: L. Weikel (Thank you, little one!)

*Affiliate link

Hang in There – ND #141

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 1 Comment
Hang in There! – Photo: L. Weikel

Hang in There

My most recent post was written as a ‘heads up’ to all of us that change is afoot, and that change is reflected in the stars. Not just incremental shifts, either. My sense is that we’re on the cusp of some dramatic – dare I say revolutionary – transformations in circumstances globally, nationally, and personally. And today, while managing to wedge in a walk between raindrops, I discovered a message for all of us as we navigate these times: hang in there.

As I’ve mentioned before, when tracking the movement of planets and their impact upon our lives here on Earth, it’s important to take into consideration the size of the planets involved and the length of their orbits around the sun. For instance, Pluto’s orbit around the sun takes approximately 248 years. Saturn’s orbit takes approximately 28.5 years and Jupiter’s 12 years. Mercury, meanwhile, zips around the sun in just 88 days, Venus in 225 days, and Mars in just shy of two years.

And we all know the moon, while not a planet, does profoundly influence the water on our planet every single day, causing the tides. It only stands to reason that its gravitational pull influences the water in our bodies, as well, as we’re comprised of 98% water. For some (perhaps many) people, that impact is experienced as a fluctuation of emotions.

It stands to reason that the more rapidly moving planets (and the moon) tend to impact us on a more personal, fleeting level. The big guys, the ones that haul their massive, voluminous bodies around the sun in far longer, more ponderous orbits, tend to yield longer-term and more profound impacts upon all of us. These influences are often reflected on more of a societal or planetary level as well as impacting us personally.

Personal vs. Impersonal

The planets that have the most tangible and observable impact upon us on a day-to-day basis are called the ‘personal’ planets: Mercury, Venus, and Mars. Jupiter and Saturn are both so large that their presence and movements wield a lot of power on us both personally and globally, and are thus often considered ‘transpersonal’ planets. Saturn is also the last planet we’re able to glimpse with the naked eye, so in a sense, Saturn represents a boundary. It demarcates the line between the personal and the impersonal planets.

When the so-called impersonal planets, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto shift their position around the sun and thus their relationship to us, the results might be likened to the impact of glaciers on the Earth’s surface. Slow, inexorable movement that has the capacity to literally move, remove, or create mountains. But the planetary movements, at least, are not taking thousands of years. (We’ll save that for a discussion on the precession of the equinoxes, as our solar system makes its way around the galactic center.)

Waxing Moon 26 March 2023 – Photo: L. Weikel

What Is My Point?

I didn’t intend to go down this rabbit hole again, but every time I try to explain it in a blog post it makes more sense to me. I hope it’s a little helpful to those of you who, like me, aren’t astrologers either.

My point in bringing all of this up again is that it’s no coincidence that we’re witnessing major democratic challenges and uprisings all over the world. I’ve mentioned before that, as a country, the United States is experiencing its ‘Pluto return.’ That means Pluto has completed its orbit around the sun and is generally back where it was in the sky at the time of our revolution.

And how interesting is it when we look at the upheaval and protests in France. Gee, they’re also experiencing their Pluto return.

Globally, there has been a resurgence of autocratic, strongman politics. Just this month, however, there have been gigantic protests by masses of people in the countries of Georgia and, most recently, Israel, shutting down attempts by fascists to seize control of their countries.

Hang in there (closeup) – Photo: L. Weikel

Our Turn

And here we are. Whether it’s a result of the refusal of elected officials to enact legislation (desired by overwhelming majorities in both parties) to reduce the nauseating slaughter of children and adults in mass shootings or the insanity of the Republican party’s efforts to seize control over our judiciary, we too are being forced to take a stand. The pressure has been building slowly, inexorably, not unlike the pressure exerted by glaciers – or underneath volcanoes. Or perhaps the slow and cyclic movement of the impersonal planets.

We the people are being forced to take to the streets by those who refuse to respect democratic principles. In overwhelming and unmistakable numbers so great as to be impossible to ignore, we must demand transformation. The old ways of doing things will no longer stand. Greed, selfishness, and apathy cannot, must not, continue to hold sway in Congress or in our populace.

These profound global changes are reflected in the movement of the outer, impersonal planets. And through various aspects to each other, they’re working in concert to bring us to a place where we finally open our eyes and ears and realize we must save ourselves (and our children).

As the events unfold, let’s remember the message I saw in the body of that tree earlier today:Hang in there, my friends!

We must believe in ourselves and each other. We hold the inherent power to create the country and world we’ve always believed in.

ND #141

Vernal Double Whammy – ND #140

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Daffodils Ready to Burst Forth – Photo: L. Weikel

Vernal Double Whammy

I think we can all agree, Spring 2023 arrived prematurely. Unsettlingly so, at least for some of us who lament the possibility that we’re witnessing an observable shift in our climate. But as of earlier today, the equinox occurred and the season has officially arrived, bringing with it the promise of new beginnings and baby bunnies. Even more exciting, on Tuesday, 21 March 2023, we get to experience a vernal double whammy, a veritable turbo-boost of the ‘new beginning’ energy heralded by today’s equinox.

This double whammy of which I speak is the somewhat rare occurrence of both the arrival of spring and a new moon taking place at almost precisely the exact same degree. Specifically, at 1:23 p.m. (EDT) on Tuesday, the Sun and Moon will be conjunct each other (hence a ‘new moon’) at 0 degrees 56 minutes – essentially the 1st degree of the astrological sign of Aries.

The vernal equinox, the technical arrival of spring in the Northern Hemisphere, is the moment the Sun crosses over from Pisces into the sign of Aries. That’s what actually makes it the spring equinox, the moment when the sun spends an equal amount of time both above and below the horizon.

Sunset 17 March 2023 – Photo: L. Weikel

Why So Special?

But new moons come and go, and they do not always coincide with the precise arrival of spring, as this year’s new moon does. That’s what makes this month’s new moon so special. We have an abundance of energy heralding clean slates and new beginnings happening at the very beginning of the feisty sign of Aries: a new season (spring, the traditional beginning of a new year in ancient calendars), a new moon (always, every month, an opportunity to ‘plant new seeds’ of ideas or projects.

Along with these lunar and seasonal synchronicities, other astrological occurrences this week portend an influx of remarkable and almost certainly palpable ‘big’ energy. On the 23rd, Pluto’s reign in Capricorn (since 2008) ends and we start experiencing Pluto in Aquarius, where it hasn’t been in 248 years. While we’ll get a taste of Pluto in Aquarius from this week until June, the planet will retrograde back into Capricorn for one final instigation of transformations in societal foundations (governments, corporations, financial markets) through January 2024.

On Sunday, Mercury moved from Taurus into Aries and just today, Venus moved from Aries into Taurus. This may all sound like a lot of gobbledygook (astrobabble?), but it is unusual for so many planets to be making big shifts from one sign into another. Not so much for the smaller planets, because they travel around the sun much faster than the behemoths Jupiter, Saturn, Neptune, Uranus, and Pluto.

Big Shifts

My sense of the overarching energetic shift that we’re all going to be subject to (and which many of us will distinctly notice and feel in our bodies, minds, emotions, and observations in the outside world) – and already are, in many cases – is a radically different approach to what we’ve all been witnessing and experiencing in our lives for the past 13 years or so.

That’s why, I suspect, I was nudged to write this tonight. Awareness is power. And whether you ascribe to the possibility that the astral bodies above us have any impact upon our tiny bodies here on Earth or not, I’m of the mind that it doesn’t hurt to set intentions. If we know there is the potential for radical changes, re-sets, and transformation on the horizon, why wouldn’t we care enough to at least take responsibility for setting our intentions on the changes we would like to manifest in our lives?

So, forewarned is forearmed. Some major shifts are on the brink of happening, my friends. Take a moment to envision the changes you would like to call into your life. Surely getting quiet for a few moments and contemplating our lives’ trajectories is a worthwhile endeavor no matter what.

Plant your seeds of change well. And don’t discount Pluto’s ability to profoundly shake stuff up.

(T+140)

Peepers – Version 2023 (ND #139)

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Ethereal Sunset – Photo: L. Weikel

Peepers – Version 2023

I almost wrote a post some three weeks ago now, and I regret that I didn’t. I know it was still February; indeed, I’m pretty sure it was within a week of my last post (the one about Love Nature Magic). The reason why I regret not having written it is because I’m now unable to definitively document my experience for posterity. And it feels significant that peepers – version 2023 – were emerging from their muddy domiciles in February.

We all know how weird this winter of 2023 has been. For those who find the price of heating oil, inflated due to the war in Ukraine, to be onerous, it’s been a blessing. But for those who enjoy at least one good blizzard wrapping them in the cocoon of a snowed-in home, it’s definitely been a dud of a season.

But it gave me chills to hear these harbingers of springtime calling out across the fields an entire month earlier than usual. Better late than never, I suppose (my documenting, I mean.) It’s interesting to me to read the first post I wrote about peepers. I was excited to hear them then, as I always am – but it was the spring equinox when I wrote that post in 2019. And that’s still nearly two weeks away!

Full Worm Moon – 2023; Photo: L. Weikel

Full Worm Moon and Saturn Sign Change

We started this week out with a glorious full moon just yesterday morning (7:40 a.m. ET to be exact). And then an hour later, the planet Saturn entered a new sign for the first time in approximately 2.5 years.

Interestingly, for the past five years or so, Saturn has been hanging out in astrological signs that it ‘enjoys’ or feels good in: Capricorn and then Aquarius. Saturn is considered the ‘ruler’ of these two signs, although in Aquarius it now shares that honor with Uranus. The bottom line, though, is that Saturn likes the no-nonsense, pragmatic attitude of Capricorn and the generally more emotionally detached attitude of Aquarius. And Saturn is all about structure, time, foundations, and discipline.

So we’ve actually had five years of a ‘happy’ Saturn. Hmm.

On Tuesday, however, just after the moon reached its peak fullness, Saturn entered the sign of Pisces. It’ll be interesting to see how this energetic shift will play out in the world. That’s not to say it won’t impact us on a day-to-day personal level (because it probably will), but the large, slower moving planets tend to have larger, more global impacts on us.

I encourage us all to observe the actions of those on the national and world stage. Is there a change in emotional or psychological tenor? How do we feel about what’s going on in our country (and the world at large)?

Clouds or Mountains? Photo: L. Weikel (this photo was taken only 7 minutes before the main photo, above)

More Big Stuff Coming

Astrologers are expecting this March to herald some profound shifts in the way the world experiences itself. Besides Saturn moving into Pisces, we just had a lovely conjunction of Venus and Jupiter in Aries last week. (I didn’t get a photo of the conjunction due to cloud cover – but I did get a decent shot of the two bright ones flirting with each other the night before they met up.) But probably the biggest shift in the celestial orbs will be Pluto moving from Capricorn into Aquarius on March 23rd.

Given that I started writing this post merely to comment on how chilly I imagine our armies of peepers must be as the March winds whip up some serious wind chill, I’ll leave commentary about Pluto for another day.

In the meantime, I just wanted to touch base with all of you. If you’ve been feeling like things “are at sixes and sevens” (as my mother used to say), you’re not alone. Knowing that you’re not the only one noticing and feeling that things seem edgy can be at least a little bit comforting, as can learning that there are some things going on above our heads that might explain some of what we’re experiencing.

No matter how isolated or independent we fancy ourselves to be, in truth, we’re all far more connected – with each other, with the peepers, with the moon, and with the planets – than we realize.

ND #139

Love Nature Magic

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Love Nature Magic

I have exciting news! Today (February 21, 2023) is the release date for the book Love Nature Magic*, by my friend Maria Rodale.

I’m thrilled to be sharing the publication of Love Nature Magic* because it’s a delightful and approachable introduction to the wonder of shamanic journeying and the insights we can gain by opening our minds to new (but actually ancient) ways of communicating with the unseen world.

A Little Background

Some of you may recall that, back in late 2020, as the isolation of the pandemic was starting to wear thin on so many of us, I received a nudge from Spirit to create what I called a Shamanic Caravan. My reclamation of the word caravan (which had been conveniently misappropriated for political fear-mongering) was based on the definition of the word as follows:

Merriam-Webster.com – caravan: noun 1. a company of travelers on a journey through desert or hostile regions.

Dictionary.com – caravan: noun 1. a group of travelers, as merchants or pilgrims, journeying together for safety in passing through deserts, hostile territory, etc.

As a person who knows first-hand the value of shamanic journeying, I felt I was being called to create an environment that encourages us to access our own unique inner support network. The ‘caravan’ aspect was based on engaging in that practice in the company of fellow journeyers. And goodness knows, 2020 definitely had us traversing a desert or hostile territory.

One of the people who often participated (i.e., hopped on a ‘Wagon’ – my term for the unique sessions I would offer twice a week) was Maria. And the benefit she derived from her excursions into the ‘Uhupacha’ (a Quechua term for the Underworld)? She started conversing with the nature spirits that reside in her garden – and discovered they had some astonishing perspectives to share with her.

One Thing Led to Another

After receiving unexpected insight from her garden nemesis, Mugwort, Maria realized the spirits of the creatures in her garden had more to share with her than aggravation. In fact, their wisdom (and occasional irritation with humans) shifted her perception of the world in ways I don’t think she ever expected. And now she is generously sharing their messages with all of us.

Journeys to and conversations with the spirits of twenty-six plants and animals later, Love Nature Magic* was born.

My Perspective

I’ve been taking shamanic journeys for over thirty years, and I consider it a privilege to access other realms of reality. I love that Maria approaches the process of journeying respectfully and with integrity. The Beings she encounters are real. They have messages to tell. And Maria was the perfect messenger.

She’s neither flighty nor naïve. She’s practical and logical. A respected businesswoman. It’s my hope that this book will make journeying more accessible to everyone.

Indeed, that was my hope when I introduced the concept of the Shamanic Caravan.

I am delighted to recommend you purchase and enjoy the messages from nature Maria has so generously shared.

*affiliate link

ND #138

Farewell to 2022

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Rosemary Sprigs – Photo: L. Weikel

Farewell to 2022

My intention as I write this post is that it will be read, or at least received, in the early morning hours of December 31, 2022. I’ve been thinking a lot about this blog lately and, more specifically, the relationship I feel with you, my (very cherished) readers. Some of you I know personally, but most I may never meet – face-to-face, at least. Yet in spite of that fact, I do in fact feel a bond with you. I miss the connection we cultivated over the years of writing (and you reading) my 1111 Devotion. Suddenly I felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and bid farewell to 2022 – and share it with you.

I was walking in the golden slant of late afternoon sunshine, drinking in the balmy temperatures, weirdly unsettling after last week’s hellacious deep-freeze, when a fox raced across a field right in front of me. A Great Horned Owl hooted twice in the forest to my right, just as the sun dipped below the horizon. A lone Screech Owl whimpered its forlorn call from its perch close to the cliffs, long after the light of dusk had darkened to midnight blue.

Each of these encounters felt intimate and sacred. I know, on the mundane level, that these creatures could not care less about me. Indeed, if they were even aware of me, they undoubtedly wanted to escape my gaze as quickly as possible. (At the very least, I know the Fox started hauling ass across that field as soon as it made eye contact with me – an electric moment that I must admit was palpable.) But living in the mundane world isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

Beyond the Mundane

And I guess that’s what made me think about this blog in that moment. In each of those moments of connection with the wild, to be honest. Sure, there’s the mundane way of approaching our lives. It’s rote and mechanistic and borders on tragic. When I contemplate how most people live lives utterly devoid of magic (and often deliberately so), I want to cry.

If you’ve read my posts for any length of time, you know I’m not referring to the hocus-pocus brand of magic, although there’s nothing inherently wrong with that, in my opinion. Rather, I’m referring to the ‘magic’ of imagining a deeper relationship with the Beings with whom we share this planet. Yes, I feel creatures might show up in my world to urge me to pay attention to something in my life. And yes, I like to think there are invisible threads of connection between all of us – and we all ‘show up’ for each other, one way or another, when we need each other the most.

Time to Show Up

So I decided it was time for me to show up in your in-box (or Facebook feed or whatever) again. It’s time for us all to prepare for another set of seasons, another round of planting intentions, nurturing them as they take root, cultivating their growth, and watching them flourish.

But before we can expect those intentions to thrive, we need to clear away the hucha (heavy, unrefined energy) we accumulated from last year. Even if we had a banner year of mostly wonderful experiences, there’s no escaping the energetic dross that’s circulating in our collective environment. From images (and personal experiences) of war and the atrocities being perpetrated in the Ukraine and elsewhere, to the everyday revulsion our souls feel when realizing how much hate, fear, misogyny, racism, and just plain awfulness is in plain view, right before our eyes, being inflicted on each other, every day. Sometimes it’s almost too much to bear.

A Sweet Ritual to Let Go

Here is something I’ve done with family and friends, and which I feel honored to share with you. If you’re so inclined, pick up some fresh rosemary at the grocery store today. A sprig for each person in your household is perfect. Tie a ribbon or piece of colorful yarn around each one if you seek a festive look.

Pair up (but you can always do this to yourself if you’re welcoming the new year in in solitude) and take turns gently caressing the rosemary from the top of your partner’s head to the tips of their toes. Your intention, which you set at the beginning of this exercise, is to ‘sweep’ all the hucha from their energetic field surrounding their body.

Once you’ve done this for each other, if you have the ability to do so, burn the rosemary and watch your hucha go up in smoke. You are now cleansed of the energetic detritus of the past year, ready to embrace 2023 clean, fresh, and eager for new beginnings.

If you can’t safely burn your rosemary, I suggest either burying it or, as a last resort, simply throwing it away or composting it.

What’s most important is your intention to lovingly sweep clean your partner – and equally important – for you to willingly release your hucha.

I bid you a fond farewell to 2022.

Sunset 30 Dec 2022 – Photo: L. Weikel

ND #136 – Last Total Lunar Eclipse

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Closeup of the last total lunar eclipse which occurred on 16 May 2022 – Photo: L. Weikel

Last Total Lunar Eclipse

I couldn’t get ‘you guys’ out of my head as I took a walk this evening. Observing the waxing gibbous moon snuggling up to Jupiter, both bright as headlights in the sky, my thoughts turned to the total lunar eclipse we’ll be experiencing at 5:59 a.m. (EST) this Tuesday. This will be the last total lunar eclipse until 2025, which feels significant. Good grief, it’s hard to imagine the geopolitical circumstances under which we’ll (hopefully) be experiencing that celestial event.

So we might as well look up and appreciate this one. For those of you in the eastern Pennsylvania region, here is a nifty link.

 

Waxing Moon Flirting with Jupiter 4Nov22 – Photo: L. Weikel

Momentous

We all know how momentous this Tuesday, November 8, 2022, will be for all of us. Of course, I’m speaking to all citizens of the United States – but I’m especially looking at you, fellow women (and those who identify as female). If we don’t step up now and take responsibility for ensuring our bodily sovereignty by voting for those who will protect and defend our rights as equal citizens, we could easily find ourselves living in a Christofascist hellscape by the next total lunar eclipse.

I can only hope that we learned our lesson in 2016. As shell-shocked and pit-in-the-stomach terrified we felt at the result of that election six years ago, I’m pretty confident few of us would’ve predicted the tidal wave of misogyny, racism, antisemitism, outright cruelty, and insanity that would nearly drown our country in its wake. But here we are.

And of course, the momentous nature of our election impacts the rest of the world, too. “With great power comes great responsibility,” which means our responsibility to not only vote but also stand up for democracy and the rule of law extends beyond our own precious lives. The fate of many hang in the balance of how we respond to the myriad shameless attacks being made against facts, truth, and reality. We are responsible not only for ourselves and our country, but also the myriad countries that rely on us as an ally and role model. Perhaps most importantly, the consequences of our election will impact the very planet on which we all live and depend.

Last Total Lunar Eclipse (May 2022) – Photo: L. Weikel

A Perfect Storm

It’s no secret that circumstances are such that a perfect storm is brewing on both an emotional and ideological level. That’s why the fact that our turmoil is mirrored in the sky takes on even more chilling significance.

There’s the total lunar eclipse (with eclipses often providing jarring, unexpected revelations and reactions).And we’re still experiencing the final ‘pass’ of the Saturn squaring Uranus configuration that we experienced three times in 2021. You may recall Saturn is associated with rules, foundations, and tradition, while Uranus is often thought of as revolutionary, unpredictable, a disrupter of the status quo, and an innovator of lightning-quick change.

Too much of either energy can lead to unintended and chaotic results. And we’re pretty much assured that we’ll experience both, at least in the short term. We can only hope (and set our intentions) that balance can and will be achieved sooner rather than later. We had our warning on January 6th. Shame on us If something similar unfolds as a result of this election. There’s no excuse for us not to see it coming.

Our Best Strategy

As always, our best strategy is to keep our own centers and allow our sense of calm, faith in our system, and peaceful respect for ourselves and each other to ripple out into our environment. When challenged, we need to feel our feet connecting to Mother Earth, reminding us of who we are and why we care. We also need to look up, and remember that while the Earth may be causing the moon to be in dusky, blood-red shadow for a moment, this will pass.

What matters is that we hold firm to our values and the common good of all, including Nature and Mother Earth. We must stand strong for each other, ourselves, and our ancestors – those who’ve passed and those who will inherit the results of our decisions today. Remember to keep looking up, my friends; no matter what. The next seven generations are depend upon us.

(T+136)

Tiggery-Tig – ND #135

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 5 Comments
Tigger – Photo: S. Weikel

Tiggery-Tig

This handsome boy, also known as Tiggety-Tig, Tigster, Tig-Tig, Tigeroons, and of course, the ever classic if elegant in its simplicity, “Tigger,” succumbed this morning to a combination of old age and climate intolerance.

Losing Tigger is a shock to my system. Yes, he’d been throwing up fairly frequently over the past few weeks. But between the heat and his thick, thick fur, it was not uncommon for him to suffer from fur-dyspepsia. Summers were always a challenge for him.

While he was technically a shorthair, Tigger had an incredibly luxurious and thick undercoat that rendered petting him addictive and incredibly soothing to this human’s body, mind, and soul. As if his softness weren’t enough, his personality was kind, patient, and unconditionally loving. And he extended those qualities to both two and four-legged family members. Old dogs, puppies, kittens, cats (even surly and paranoid ones – looking at you, Cletus and Precious), it didn’t matter. Tigger made room in his heart for all of us.

Profile of a Love – Photo: S. Weikel

Balm to My Soul

That cat was a balm to my soul. He cuddled with me every night. Even if it was hot out, he would trot up the stairs, sensing when I was about to turn out my light. He’d talk to me with a couple mrrrows and then take his place at my side, my arm sliding along his tummy between both his back and front paws so that my fingers could massage his chin and neck. For those of you with cats, you know that’s a position most cats would balk at and kick viciously at with their back legs. Not Tig.

If he heard me call his name (or any of the derivations listed above), he’d come running. Maybe over the past year or two his pace might’ve slowed a wee bit, but he would still show up without fail in response to my call.

When I realized I was going to write about him tonight, I did a search of my blog posts and discovered I’d written about him by name at least 45 times. Reading some of those posts brought back a flood of memories and an appreciation of how profoundly my life is influenced and made inordinately better by the presence of my familiars.

Tigger and Baby Pacha – Photo: S. Weikel

A Few Favorites

I picked out a few of my favorite Tigger stories and have linked them in this post. The best one is probably the one called Names Matter, which explains why he seemingly loved me so deeply. The relief he felt was probably a lot like many of us feel when we’re finally seen, known, and called by our true name.

The photo below is the last one I took of him. It was just yesterday that he draped himself next to my keyboard. I had a sense that he was leaving me; I can’t even say why.

He didn’t sleep with me last night, an anomaly that sent me looking for him as soon as I woke up. I found him curled up in a place not usual for him, and he let out a plaintive cry. I called our vet’s office (and they answered before they were even open) and was able to make an appointment for him at 11:00. But when it came time to go, I knew the moment I picked him up that he was leaving me; that making him endure a car ride in the unbearable heat would only pollute his last snippet of time with us. So I canceled the appointment and, instead, held him in my lap, enveloped in Sacred Space, until he took his last breath at 11:39 a.m.

He was such a good boy. Love you, Tiggery.

(T+135)