mundane

Farewell to 2022

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 6 Comments
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

Every Single Day – ND #2

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 8 Comments
Waxing Crescent Moon – Photo: L. Weikel

Every Single Day

Every single day in the two weeks since publishing my final post in the 1111 Devotion, I’ve thought about all of you. What a surprise. And I don’t mean that in a cavalier sense of not appreciating your participation in my commitment. I simply never expected to discover just how much my perspective on the world has become connected to contemplating what I might end up sharing with you at the end of the day.

While it’s true I feel like I talk to each of you when I sit here and write each night, I’ve discovered that I look at the world differently because of you.

I guess that’s what doing something every single day for just over three years will do. It becomes a part of you, a part of how you think and who you are. And while it made me sad the first few days to realize, “No; that’s over. I’m not doing that anymore,” I thought the melancholy would dissipate. I assumed my inclination to view the world from the perspective of what might be cool or interesting or magical – or infuriating or troubling – to share with you would abate.

But it didn’t. It hasn’t.

The Gift of the Process

I initiated my 1111 Devotion as a means of holding Karl close, of honoring him. In the process, I experienced the magic of connection. I discovered an unexpected bounty of heart through the challenge of sharing my life with you. Because it was only my commitment to fulfilling my devotion that resulted in the intimacy of sharing that took place. For what else, aside from my own life experiences, could I possibly find to write about for 1111 consecutive days?

Had I not publicly declared my intention to engage in my 1111 Devotion, I assure you I never would have written 1100 of those posts. OK, at the most, I might have written 111. But it never would have occurred to me to write the vast, vast majority of them.

It’s taken me some time to realize that experiencing the most mundane circumstances and experiences with an eye toward sharing them with you elevated them (for me).

I take a photo of the nascent crescent of the moon and now ache to write about the promise of the new monthly cycle it represents. By indulging the urge to share a simple photo of the moon, I remind us all, myself included, to pay attention to the rhythms in our lives. I’m reminded to pause and consider what new thoughts, ideas, or projects are seeking my attention.

What I’ve realized is that, for me at least, it’s the sharing that brings meaning. And that means you, my friends, are an essential part of this equation.

Thank you for being here.

(T+2)

Harbinger – Day 739

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Photo: L. Weikel

Harbinger

We managed to get out for our walk today a little earlier than usual. When we started out, I actually grumbled to Karl that I didn’t see any clouds in the sky that might make for some interesting photos. Nothing like looking a gift horse in the mouth, huh? But as we walked, the sky seemingly burst into flames and produced a sunset of epic unexpected proportions. So many people saw it and so many appreciated it, that it makes me wonder if it was a harbinger.

Just before sitting down to write this tonight, I logged onto Facebook. There had to be five or six different postings by friends of mine who are not friends with each other sharing photos of tonight’s breathtaking sunset. If people were anywhere near a window or simply outside for any reason, they couldn’t miss it.

If it were a harbinger, though, what might it signify? I’m not sure.

Hope?

Danger?

Dragon Swooping In – Photo: L. Weikel

Quiet

It’s been quiet lately. OK, quiet in a circus-like manner. But what I’m noticing now is that we’re entering a new phase. A phase in which we, as a country, need to be extraordinarily vigilant because desperation is setting in.

Aha. Yes. That’s what it is. The sunset this evening was the equivalent of a flashing red danger sign. We’re being asked to sit up and watch what’s going on around us. It’s essential that we pay attention to the details. Notice the lengths some people are willing to go in order to retain power.

I have a feeling we’re going to be witnessing some unprecedented gyrations by certain people in the very near future. There are apparently no boundaries that won’t be crossed. No arms too small to be twisted. No debasement of democracy too crass not to at least be given a try.

Photo: L. Weikel

Desperation

As desperation sets in and fires are lit, it’ll be important for us to maintain our perspective. Sometimes the entire view and understanding of a situation changes completely when we just step back a few steps and move our gaze just 90 degrees. Quite suddenly, everything can return to the mundane.

It may not be the prettiest picture. But sometimes mundane with a tad of cloudy is just the ticket that’ll fly us right into our future. Safely. Lovingly. Protectively. And without burning us up. Or is it more accurately ‘burning us down?’

The view just 90 degrees away from all those red sunsets.            Photo: L. Weikel

(T-372)