change

Coyote and Salmon – Day 443

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Coyote – Photo: City of Lubbock, TX

My Cards Say It All

I’ve been keeping pretty quiet about the Medicine Cards®* I’ve been choosing lately, mostly because they’ve been cosmic pokes in my side. Either that or they’ve been hard to figure out.

For instance, I picked Coyote reversed twice in the past five days. Coyote reversed is tough, because by its very nature, it is inscrutable and hard to figure out. It also comes with the explicit admonition:

“Contrary Coyote may signal a time when everything you touch backfires.”

Trust me, when I choose Coyote reversed, I do my best to lay low and refrain from engaging in anything too sensitive.

When Coyote reversed shows up in my life, I make a point of choosing activities in which I have as little contact with the outside world as possible. That’s not always possible, but it’s generally a good rule of thumb. Let me hasten to add, though: I don’t go traveling into other worlds, either. No, a Coyote reversed day usually calls for channeling my energy into mundane, tangible activities such as clearing away clutter, vacuuming, and doing my best to gain internal awareness of what’s going on within myself, so I can bounce back into the game the next day with greater clarity.

Salmon Reversed

So after not choosing Coyote for a very long time – quite possibly since before I even began my 1111 Devotion – I find it fascinating to have chosen it twice in the past five days (and technically, it was twice in four days, since I chose it last Friday and then again this past Monday).

But today? Today I chose Salmon reversed with Butterfly underneath. And I have to tell you, it so accurately captures my feelings of late, particularly this morning as I struggled to swim to the surface of my consciousness as I woke from a deep sleep.

Salmon, which has as its key words “Wisdom/Inner Knowing” is not, as one might be tempted to assume, about struggling upstream. It’s not about struggle at all (in the upright position, anyway). Indeed, I love the first paragraph of Salmon:

“Salmon is the sacred keeper of wisdom and inner knowing who, despite strong river currents, will always return to the place of its creation. Its determination is driven by the wisdom of instinct and inner knowing, which yields a sense of purpose that cannot be thwarted by external forces. Coming full circle, Salmon medicine people finish what they begin, bringing life’s events and cycles to closure.”

Salmon – Photo: BBC.com

At First Glance

Superficially, I’ll admit, I may have felt as though I was struggling to “return to the place of (my) creation” today. Everything sort of felt like a hassle, and I wasn’t sure if it was my own frustrations with certain situations in my life or if I might just be sensitive to and reflecting the energies ‘out there.’

That might seem counter-intuitive, but sometimes direct action mitigates a sense of overwhelm. I care about what’s going on in Washington D.C., and yet I feel stymied by just how little I’m able to actually do to contribute to a solution to that situation. I envy those attorneys, representatives, and their staffs that are involved in the process because they know they are fighting the good fight. They’re actively engaging in work that makes a difference.

For myself, I know that my greatest joy comes from being of service to others, whether it’s by direct one-on-one work or engaging in efforts that benefit many at once.

My sense of self resonated today with these words contained within Salmon reversed:

“If you have been seeking the approval of others by being a follower instead of listening to your personal knowing, it may be time to reclaim you own authority. (…)  If so, get out of your head and get back to the wisdom found in your heart and feelings. Like Salmon, people sometimes need to backtrack upstream to see where life’s meandering tributaries flowed away from the original headwaters of their certainty, wisdom, instinct, and inner knowing.”

Yes, these words struck a chord. And underneath that Salmon reversed? Butterfly. CHANGE.

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(T-668)

Intensity Abounds – Day 428

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Intensity Abounds

Quite honestly, I don’t think I remember a time when I’ve personally witnessed so much major, disruptive stuff occurring in the lives of those around me, seemingly all at once. While some people’s lives are being thrown into disarray, others are experiencing growth, transformation, and new horizons (all of which also produces its own brand of excitement and stress). Intensity abounds – and sometimes the stress of it all means we don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

For me, at least in this moment, I think the most surprising thing is that whatever is bringing in all of this radical change – be it planetary influences, lunar eclipses, or the upcoming 2020 election, it doesn’t seem to be happening to people in a tidy ‘once and done’ fashion.

Rather, some people are being rocked by incidents happening to them in waves. They’ll go a day or two feeling battered and bruised and – voila! – another challenge comes whipping around the corner headed right at them. Again.

Ordinarily I’d be share more details, but quite honestly, I keep falling asleep at my keyboard – and I swear, it’s Spirit’s way of ensuring I don’t go into any details.

In Spite of It All: Hang in There

Life can change in the blink of an eye. I’ve lived it.

And while it is almost impossible to truly and appropriately appreciate and fully, deeply, and exquisitely celebrate all of the friends and family, two legged and four, that we share our lives with on a regular basis, I’d be willing to bet we each can ‘do better.’

Just from what I’ve witnessed directly over the past couple of days, there are many huge aspects of people’s lives coming to an end; some deliberately and some not. At the same time, there may be new and unique experiences – many unexpected and potentially delightful – appearing in our lives that we only dreamed possible last week.

And then others are feeling as though their lives are being lived in snow globes. Suddenly everything is topsy turvy, but if we sit quietly enough, the things we loved the most will, if we’re patient, settle back into place.

Sunset sky ablaze – Jan 2020 – Photo: L. Weikel

Patience

While walking this evening, we once again experienced that astonishing way sunsets lead us on to greater and greater beauty.

Some sunsets are model teachers of patience. Have you, like me, looked at the sky and simply had to take its photo right then and there because it couldn’t possibly become more beautiful? Only to find, actually, waiting even one more minute brings a different flavor of beauty. And the minute after that, our hearts feel so full we almost don’t know what to do with it all.

That’s how I felt this evening. That’s what I tried to capture in some of these photos.

The Tower – Again

Tonight, the ripple of worry I felt when I chose the Tower card underneath my Judgment card last week raised goosebumps at the back of my neck again. The goosebumps subsided, and the ripple dispersed – for now. But these times really and truly are intense.

We are having so much ripped away – and hopefully also being given chances to rebuild.

Take care of yourselves. And each other.

Sunset always shifting – Jan 2020 – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-683)

The Baker’s Birthday – Day 393

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Carol’s Chocolate BIRTHDAY cake – Photo: L. Weikel

The Baker’s Birthday

By the time I hit the ‘publish’ button on this post, it’ll be December 10th, which means it’ll be the birthday of the namesake of one of our family’s two favorite birthday cakes: Carol’s Chocolate Cake.

Sadly, since my sister lives in Massachusetts and I live in Pennsylvania, she won’t be receiving one of her chocolate cakes from me for her birthday. I know; bad little sister. But who knows? Maybe someone else will bake her one. In fact, I don’t even know if ‘Carol’s Chocolate Cake’ is considered ‘the’ birthday cake in her household.

I’m only realizing now that I should’ve baked one a few days ago and sent it to her. After all, I’ve gotten a lot of blog mileage out of her yummy delicious confection. I owe her one!

Photos Few and Far Between

Sadly, we rarely see each other. The last time I think we had our photo taken together was at Karl’s Gathering – so, eight years ago. I’ll see if I can hunt down that photo. I believe it has the rest of my siblings in it, so I probably shouldn’t post it. Some members of my family probably don’t want to be associated with me anymore.

Why?

Perhaps because I’m an unabashed feminist and liberal, and so do not apparently share the same sensibilities as some of my siblings. (And I’m undoubtedly thought of as an opinionated big mouth, too. Ha ha – not all that inaccurate, I suppose.)

Oooh, that’s so dangerous. Talking about stuff like this publicly.

Don’t worry you guys, I won’t publish your photos or mention your names. The fact that I even write that is silly. On the best day, I’m sure only two siblings, at most, read what I write. Ever.

Maintaining the Façade

It’s funny, isn’t it? The lengths we go to to maintain a façade that hasn’t been accurate in years (if it ever was). I know I always felt our family was indivisible, bonded by a love that could never be broken. Then…stuff  happened.

Probably the biggest thing, I guess, was the death of our father nearly 20 years ago. And no, it had nothing to do with what people might assume when they read that sentence. It had nothing to do with money or inheritance or anything like that. It was actually, simply, the breaking of the last thread.

Our mother’s death 30 years ago was a huge loss. She truly was the linchpin of our family. But losing her didn’t tear us apart. And our father’s death didn’t either, per se. Rather, his death merely led to us all focusing upon our own nuclear families and losing our central shared focus, the hub of our familial attention, which had been our parents.

Things happened in our country, too, which exacerbated differing viewpoints that apparently had lain undetected beneath the surface. At least I was blindsided by how different we could think about life, having been raised by the same people.

Death of an Illusion

When I was a kid, being the youngest (by a lot, the closest in age being nine years older than I am) was an idyllic spot to occupy. I adored my siblings. (I still do; I’ve just learned to employ some detachment, which helps.)

I also had what I always considered the best of all possible worlds. I was the youngest of five, so I had these amazing older siblings to learn from and look forward to having visit, and just overall have as role models in my life. But in many ways I also enjoyed the benefits of being an ‘only’ child, since I was only nine when the closest sibling left for college.

Christmas time was the best, when everyone would come to our house from states far and wide, bringing with them their children – my nieces and nephews – the first three of whom were closer in age to me than my closest sibling! I finally had kids to play with! And I was ‘the oldest,’ for once. (And yes, I hang my head in shame; I did lord it over them occasionally. We won’t go there.) But having so many nieces and nephews contributed to that pervasive feeling that I truly had the best of all worlds.

I would never have imagined us all going our separate ways so starkly, so unequivocally, and, dare I say it, so harshly.

But there it is.

Happy Birthday

I probably shouldn’t hit ‘publish’ on this. I’m sure it holds little appeal to you, the readers I appreciate so very much, and probably lacks any intrinsic value, either. But you know what? Every once in a while I deeply, deeply miss what I thought we had.

I remember each and every one of my siblings’ birthdays. So of course I will be thinking about Carol tomorrow (now today).

And I guess my point in writing any of this is to remind all of us – you who are reading it, and myself who is writing it – to cherish what we have. Because you can’t count on it lasting ‘forever.’ No matter how tight you think you are with any group of people, blood or not. Things happen. People change. And what you thought would last forever can be gone like the puff of a birthday candle.

The love I have when I recall looking up to my sisters and brother will never end. Just the expression of it, I guess.

Happy birthday, Carol! I love you.

(T-718)

Intense Days Ahead – Day 352

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Intense Sunset – Photo: L. Weikel

Intense Days Ahead 

There’s a lot going on in the cosmos right now. Intense ‘aspects’ between planets that, traditionally, are associated with sudden, intense disruptions, rules and norms, and discipline, to name only a few.

Obviously, so much is being played out on the national and world stage.

But I’m also seeing it play out in our day-to-day lives.

Intensity. Change. Disruption.

Dare I say…chaos.

This is a short post. I want to write more on this subject, but now is not the time. Perhaps tomorrow will bear more fruit.

In the meantime, I want to share with you some glimpses of the intensity so many of us are feeling, as reflected in the sunset.

Hang in there. You’re not alone.

Sunset River of Light – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-759)

Change is Afoot – Day 212

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Wishes Bursting Forth – Photo: L. Weikel

Change is Afoot

For months, I’ve been receiving messages that it was time for me to make some changes to my “work” in the world.

Some of the pushes have centered on what and where I should be focusing most of my attention, at least in the ‘now.’ Many of the shoves have been to increase my hourly rate for the healing work I facilitate. And a fairly significant number of nudges have come for me to expand opportunities for others to work with me.

On the one hand, I’ve done my best to listen to at least most of these messages.

For instance, I’ve expanded my legal expertise by training to serve as a “Parenting Coordinator,” which is a new role established by local rules in Courts in Pennsylvania. I’ll explain about that another day.

I’ve also been spending more time than I was (which, admittedly, wasn’t any at all) on my next manuscript. The drumbeat on that score continues to grow louder, for I’m still barely devoting any significant time to this task. You might wonder, “What’s the big deal? Just sit down and write it.” And I would agree with you. What is the darn deal?

Immersion

The ‘deal,’ I suppose, is my need for immersion. The books I write are memoir. They require me not only to write about a time and set of circumstances I’ve lived, but also require me – if I’m going to capture those times and circumstances as accurately as possible – to immerse myself in the totality of that time of my life.

I’m not good at skimming the surface. I don’t ‘do’ superficiality well, no matter where it might try to intrude in my life. I’m not one for small talk. I’m not a good pretender. I’m either ‘all in’ or I’m not in. And that goes for my writing, and my writing process, as well.

So when I’m working on my manuscript and basically writing from a place of ‘where my head was’ and ‘how I felt’ back then, it is like riding an old fashioned tilt-a-whirl to go back and forth from ‘that’ life to ‘this’ one. I get jerked back and forth from one reality to another. Karl can probably attest to this best, as he can tell when I’ve been working on my manuscript. Out of the blue, sometimes, I’ll snap at him and dredge up something that’s long been over. He’ll look at me with astonishment and, having been in it and reliving it all day, writing about it and remembering our conversations, I’ll be like, “What? Don’t you remember? Did you really do that?”

Ha – great fun. Not.

It’s fresh for me, when I’m writing about it. It’s long gone down Karl’s memory hole, for him, though. So going back and forth is hard. And I resist it. Which leads to procrastination. For years. Hence, I need to give myself permission to just be in it, and with it, and give it the chunk of time I need.

I’m hearing that message. Really.

But on the other hand, there’s the elephant in the room: my hourly rate.

Photo: audubon.org

Elephant = Time + Intensity + Hourly Rate

I’ve been offering shamanic work to the public for 15 years. In that time, I’ve not raised my hourly rate even once (once I started charging at all). For the first two years, I offered my work for free. Then I started charging my current rate: $110/hour.

Because my sessions are unique, they often last an average of 4 to 6 hours – and because that’s an average, yes, some sessions go even longer.

By the same token, because my sessions are unique, when a person comes to me with an issue (or mainly, just a ‘knowing’ that something is awry and needs to be addressed) we stick with it until we get to the root of it. I listen – and help my client listen to their own self – until we get a sense of how their life has woven together the unique picture, circumstances, and – often – wounds that brought them to my door. And then we – but mostly Spirit and their own soul – work together to heal what we’ve discovered.

A Session Is Usually a One-Time Deal

It is rare that a client comes back with the same issue. This work is profound and very often life changing. Almost always, clients feel as though they’re starting an entirely new chapter in their life after a session.

After the session, I write a comprehensive follow-up email that describes what happened during the shamanic/energetic portion of the session. (That’s the part during which the client simply lays down, sets their intention, and let’s the good stuff happen.) It usually takes me 2.5 hours to write it all down, because – as I mentioned above – I don’t ‘do’ superficial. Yes, I’ve managed to take notes while doing the shamanic work. But often I have to get myself back into the ‘place’ I went in order to fully flesh out the notes I took. I need to once again immerse myself in the energy of the session.

Follow-Up Emails are Precious

I’ve found, especially lately (perhaps because I’ve seen and heard from some people recently who were my earlier clients), that those follow up emails hold more information in them than I could’ve realized at the time I wrote them. That’s because things that might not have made total sense (or even a little sense) at the time – to either me or my client – have come to have startling significance upon being re-read years later. So these emails are precious.

And I never charge for the hours I spend the next day, writing them.

My Rates are Going Up

And so it is that I am finally heeding the pokes and prods I’ve received for well over a year, with increasing frequency lately. I am increasing my hourly rate to $350/hour, effective June 30th, 2019.

I realize that this is significant. I realize it may feel daunting. But I also know the shifts I’ve seen in people’s lives; the transformations people have chosen to embrace. And I know the toll it takes on me to provide this work in the deep, precise, and loving manner I do.

Out of My Comfort Zone

Raising my rates drags me out of my comfort zone. So don’t be fooled – this is not a decision I’ve made lightly. In fact, there’s a whole story that goes with how I was doubting myself right up until this morning when Spirit literally plucked a card from my Medicine Card deck as I was shuffling (and asking for guidance one last time on whether I really should follow through with this rate increase) and plopped it into the birdbath I was standing beside.

I’ll write about that tomorrow, though.

(Oh – and remind me to tell you about the new opportunity to work with me one-on-one!)

 

(T-899)

Calling Card – Day 195

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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)

What’s It Going to Take? – Day 161

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Easter Sky, 21 April 2019 –  Photo: L. Weikel

Change is in the Air

Just look at that photo.

That’s a reflection of what I’m feeling inside, this Easter Day.

I can’t say I’m feeling ‘blue skies.’ Or ‘sunshine.’ But I can’t say I’m feeling ‘foggy,’ either, nor would I characterize my internal meteorological state as ‘blue,’ ‘miserable,’ or even ‘torpid.’

If pushed, I’d probably suggest ‘glorious,’ ‘volatile,’ turbulent’ and most definitely ‘changeable.’ Certainly ripe for transformation.

I’m ready. Ready to shake things up. Break out of my rut. Stop being so conventional.

Sensing Karl’s Presence

A few weeks ago, I was feeling the distinct sense that Karl was ‘around.’ Truth be told, his presence had receded to a great extent over the past two years or so. He was much more communicative (in his way) the first five years following his death.

While sad that the messages weren’t coming through to me anywhere near as often, I’ve also felt deeply at peace with it. In fact, I’ve actively refrained from reaching out to him; I want him to be moving on, continuing on his evolutionary path, doing whatever he was called to do ‘next.’ I certainly did not want to be responsible for tethering him in any way to this reality.

So imagine my surprise when he actually arranged for me to either meet in person or have a conversation with three different people (none of whom know each other, one of whom I’d never met before, a second I’ve not seen in person for at least 8 years and only spoken to sporadically, and the third I’d only met twice in my life, the last time being five years ago) all within the span of three weeks.

Three Unexpected – and Unrelated – Messengers

I should note that I did not know any of these women as people who actively communicate with beings on the other side of the veil.

Yet, in each of those conversations, none of which had anything to do with Karl, he ‘broke through’ and made himself and his presence known.

And each one of them gave me essentially the same message, which was Karl provocatively asking, “Mom, what’s it going to take? It’s time.”

Each instance, naturally, has been stunning. Astounding. Completely and totally unexpected. And as each encounter followed the other, the urgency of the core message became harder to escape or dismiss.

The invitation, his hand, is extended. I need only accept.

“There’s work to be done.”

Beam of Light (Breakthrough?), Easter 2019 – Photo: L.Weikel

(T-950)

I Walk – Day 147

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Wild Sky – Walking Home Last Night; Photo: L. Weikel

I Walk

See, it’s the little things that make me realize my mortality. Or at least realize I’m no longer 42.

I walk. That’s my primary means of getting exercise, with a random yoga class thrown in sporadically just to remind me of what flexibility might feel like.

Karl and I almost always walk together. And we try to walk every day. Walking together has been the backbone of our marriage.

We have our ‘usual route’ – the one we’ve walked consistently for the past 34 years. Although truth be told, in the very earliest years that we lived here, we probably were largely inconsistent.

And we take a plastic grocery store bag with us every single time we take a walk.

Never Walk Without a Bag Stuffed In My Pocket

I have to admit, picking up trash while we walk is the most natural thing in the world to me. It’s such an integral part of my psyche that I try to always have an extra bag in my pocket just in case I’m walking somewhere and I see stuff that needs to be picked up. (And as we all know, it is rare to go anywhere and not see – at the very least – cigarette butts on the ground.)

But this is not a post about trash. It’s a post about walking; or at least that’s what I intended when I started this evening.

The route Karl and I almost always take measures 2.2 miles from doorway to doorway. Occasionally we’ll have enough time and flexibility to make it ‘around’ twice, but lately, at least, that’s been a bit challenging.

Piling On the Mileage

So it took its toll yesterday when, in a fit of pique I set off to one of our County Parks. (‘High Rocks,’ which we pass every day, is a State Park.)  Karl and I had already walked around once (during which a disagreement between us took shape), but then I strode to Tohickon Valley Park after our failure to resolve our mutual irritations reached an extra special level of misunderstanding. Once at the park, I used one of the spanking new wooden picnic tables to write in my journal, an exercise that actually yielded a lot more clarity and compassion than I was expecting. The sun set shortly thereafter, thus closing the park, so I packed up and made the return trek home.

All told, including my initial 2.2 miles with Karl, I walked 7.6 miles yesterday.

Then today I walked a total of 8 miles even.

Yep. And I can attest: I can barely keep my eyes open. But the most interesting aspect of this is how much my feet ache. I never would’ve guessed that aching feet would be the predominant sequelae to my walking barely 8 miles a day. That just sounds so – mundane, I guess. But here I am.

Aching Feet – But Some Great Benefits, Too

But aside from the aching feet (and looking like I’m about 100 years old when I first get up from the couch to retrieve something from another room), I feel great on many levels.

I love logging some significant miles under my belt – if nothing else, it gives me an area of life that I can playfully compete with my son. (AS IF.) (He’s a runner and is starting to train for bigger and better competitions, so…the tracking of my mileage is just a fun distraction ‘thing’ we do for laughs.)

I also love/hate pushing myself a bit more. Our baseline 2.2 miles is a wonderful daily practice (and is essential to our pups’ health and happiness as well), but I can feel a difference when I walk for more miles.

I’ve slept like a rock. And I’m hoping the extra miles will burn off the after-effects of the recent spate of birthday cakes a bit more quickly.

Inspiration and Change

But my greatest wish/desire/goal?  I’m hoping this increased time spent directly one-on-one with Mother Earth will inspire me to whip open my laptop upon my return each day and work enthusiastically on my next project. While I’ve had the rough material ready to write for decades, I know my perspective shifts with each extra day I live, and I am eager to see the direction my tale ultimately takes. (That’s where some trust comes in.)

There is change in the air. My goal is to harness that change and apply it to my body, my attitude, my service, and my life in general. One step at a time. One picked-up cigarette butt at a time. One typed word at a time.

But in the meantime…I’m going to get some sleep!

Closing Time at the Park; Photo: L.Weikel

(T-964)

 

Happy New Moon – Day 115

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The start of a ‘moonless’ night – Photo: L. Weikel

Happy New Moon

Yes, I know, new moons happen every 28 ½ days. Month after month. Never ending, just cycling over and over again.

So what’s the big deal?

Maybe it’s the simple rhythm of that cycle. The reassuring dependability that no matter what happens in the world, no matter what happens in our own lives, or in our country, or even on a global scale, the moon will experience a ‘new beginning’ every 28 ½ days. We depend upon it.

A Cycle That Never Deviates – Our Entire Lives

And then, with a precision and reliability that we simply cannot fathom being anything but what it is, the moon will proceed through her phases. Gradually waxing minute by minute, day by day, and thereby growing more insistent in her pull upon the waters of this planet (including each one of us, being mostly comprised of water ourselves).

Once reaching her apex of power and pull, bringing a sense of utter completion, the moon will bask in all her glory over us. Lighting our path so brightly, should we take a walk at night, that the shadows are as stark and well-defined as any might be in the full light of Inti Tayta (Father Sun).

And then of course she begins her retreat, once again, into hiding. As she begins to disappear, we are called upon to ask ourselves what it is we would like to stop hiding (from ourselves or others). It’s then, as we look forward to the ‘dark time’ of the new moon – and finally loosen our grip on how we think our lives are supposed to ‘go’ or how we wish they had gone over the past month and accept what is – that we embrace the exciting potential of a new start, a clean slate.

A Symbol of Hope

This unrelenting pattern of building and releasing and doing it again, and again, and again is a comfort to us, whether or not we pay attention to the moon.

For me, Mama Killa’s rhythmic waxing and waning is a symbol of hope. Each new moon gives me yet another opportunity to get things right or to do better ‘this’ time. Each one is a yardstick that can be held up to my life, giving me feedback on whether I’m making progress toward achieving my goals and dreams.

New Moon in Pisces

I am not anywhere near well-versed enough in astrology to have an opinion or even, really, a cursory grasp on the meaning of the new moon being in the sign of Pisces tonight. I can tell you that Pisces is the last sign of the natural zodiac, so it is the last hurrah. One might conclude, as a result, that today’s new moon could bring with it a huge set of metaphorical erasers. This represents a bigger cycle of endings and new beginnings than your average new moon.

And one last interesting twist to this new moon: Mercury goes retrograde today. For three weeks, Mercury will appear to our naked eyes, at least, to be moving ‘backwards.’ It won’t be actually moving backwards, as it is an optical illusion created by the movement and placement of the planets from our perspective here on Earth.

Mercury retrograde lasts approximately three weeks. This one begins on March 6th and does not end until March 28th.

Mercury retrograde is the perfect time to ‘re’ everything: retreat, review, rework, reflect – on our lives, our relationships, our projects and aspirations. It’s not usually a time to forge ahead. But it most certainly is a time to assess the progress we’re making toward achieving the things that matter most to us. (I think it also might be a time for me to get some Listening Retreats scheduled!)

The Dark Nights

So over the next three nights or so, when the moon is invisible because she’s gone dark and is actively hiding her light, when she is not reflecting any of the Sun’s rays, contemplate what you want to plant now. Given that we’ll also be experiencing the Spring equinox right around the fullest expression of the moon this month, it feels like that might be the first indication of how our seedlings are doing after two weeks of germination.

I don’t know about you, but I feel like the culmination – the fullness – of the moon coinciding with the Spring equinox seems exquisitely timed to create the greatest impact on all of us. My sense is that we are all building up to the arrival of Spring this year. It is going to bring change to all of us.

I’m going to bed now. I need to plant my seeds and contemplate how best I can nurture them into fruition.

(T- 996)

Day Eighteen (T-1093)

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

 

Portals

This morning I was reminded by my favorite, most amazing, numerologist (who is also a friend), Alison Baughman, that today is yet another “11-11-11” day.

For those of you unfamiliar with the basics of numerology, you might be wondering how today, November 29, 2018, could be considered an 11-11-11 day.

Obviously, you realize that the first 11 is for November, the 11thmonth. The second 11 is the day today, the 29th, ‘reduced’ (2 + 9) to 11, and finally the year, 2018, also ‘reduced’ (2 + 0 + 1 + 8) to 11. That’s pretty much how you do anything in numerology as far as dates. Everything is added up to its lowest configuration between 1-9, unless you reach 11 or 22, which are considered “master numbers,” which do not reduce further (to 2 or 4, respectively).

There’s a ton of fascinating information you can access through numerology, and I urge you to explore it as a means to gaining yet another perspective on the quest to understanding yourself and why you are here, perhaps what lessons you are here to learn, as well as what skills and assets you bring to the table.

And yet again, I am the quintessential poster girl for the concept of  “a little bit of knowledge being a dangerous thing.” Don’t take my word for any of this. If playing with numbers is attractive to you, or you notice certain ones showing up frequently and wonder if there’s any meaning to it, take the time to learn about it. See for yourself if applying these principles bears fruit for you.

But back to the power of today.

Naturally, I am probably slightly more tuned in to the potential for transformation when it comes to 11s than a lot of people. Not only did my life change irrevocably on 11-11-11 (technically, yes, it was 11-11-2011), but it also turns out that I have 11s all over the place personally. Right down to the post office box that was assigned to me over 30 years ago adding up to an 11. It’s weird.

And despite my experience of 11-11-11, I actually love the number 11, probably because it is a number so deeply connected to me on so many levels. I see it, quite honestly, as the PORTAL, or doorway, that it is. A doorway to birth, rebirth, change, transformation, new experience, adventure, and yes, maybe even ascension.

So I felt a little bit of excitement quickening within when Alison reminded me (well, everyone following her on FB, to be honest) that today would almost certainly be a momentous day in some way because of its numerological significance. Indeed, all day I felt a sense of anticipation that we might be passing from one experience or understanding of ‘reality’ to another; that there might be revelation, or an exposition of us to light or information or profound change – either on a personal or much wider level.

And then the day started unfolding. Revelations abound. Lies are being exposed, light is illuminating the darkness, and perhaps – hopefully – truth is coming to the fore.

It is indisputable that we have passed through some major portals today as a nation, and it remains to be seen what will come of it all.

In some ways, perhaps, old beliefs and assumptions of what was true and what was not have died, making way for the birth of new understandings and perspectives. Ah, those alluring 11s. Those portals to our future…

I don’t know about you, but I am ready for some shifts in our reality. Walking through the portals may yield some really scary experiences and even feel like the death of some things (ideas, beliefs, hopes, fears), but ultimately, it is transformative. A rebirth.