The Ceremony of Life

I’m a little late to the party, bur obviously my inner ancestral time keeper is not. I just realized today that we have reached the summer solstice of 2020, the “Ring of Fire” solar eclipse and  Father’s Day.

I said that about my ancestral timekeeper because I woke up this morning to a pretty big “aha moment”,  and despite not being aware of the solar events,  these moments have continued bursting through all day.  Something is birthing, or maybe I should say, re-birthing.  I feel new ideas coming down the pipeline, recent revelations are gelling, and at the same time, this all feels very old, ancient even.

 I have felt stuck in a passage without a key for about a year and a half.  There were several months during which I had a recurring vision of a door that was unlocked but could not be opened.  I had some glimmers of hope and light through the keyhole, but right about that time, the corona virus appeared.  I would imagine that the whole world has felt this way to some extent during this time; closed doors, health and financial uncertainty, fear of how things are being handled, etc…  At the same time, we have had to sit with ourselves, peer into our fears, and contemplate our illusions of certainty.  We have had to decide to stand up for what is humanitarian (or not), we have been forced to say, “NO MORE”, and we have had to slow way down in every way. 

Two Shamans Drumming for Health

Social Distance Hiking

Not So Social Distance Hiking With Jude

Queer Pandemic Cowboy (Ben Allen)

This idea of fear has been a constant subject in my Nightwalker’s Journey posts.  I have been trying to conquer fear for about 5 years now, but I had an eye opening conversation with my Dad today who helped me a great deal with some things.   He said that we never conquer fear.  Fear will always be with us because we are human.   If, however, we can recognize fear, allow it and look it in the face, we can learn to embrace it with compassion and tenderness as we would a small, vulnerable child.  If we can just love that fearful side of us enough, we can walk as a companion, side by side, through the passages of life with key in hand.  We only need a little bit more love than fear in order to set the static state of anxiety into loving action.

I am seeing  my patterns  more clearly these last few weeks, and I see  that when I am able to comfort my fears and love myself in spite of them, I find meaning in the day to day doings of life.  When I don’t do this, I find myself running away from anything and everything in hopes of “finding” myself.  In understanding this, I find huge relief.  It is this kind of living that I want to commit to; recognize that waking up to the larger cosmos of life means I have to love myself through my fear.   I have no illusion that this is easy, nor is it immediate.   But it is absolutely imperative if I want to live a fulfilling and rich life each and every day.  In doing this work, we help to light up those around us, and we bring energy to the room.  Through our passions and our love, we can create a little magic that can not only transform our lives, but inspire those around us to transform their unlived lives into  days  filled with meaning, creativity, and joy.  This doesn’t mean that we will be happy all the time.  It simply means we peer into the looking glass of our hearts and minds to see each moment of the day as an opportunity to experience the ceremony of life.  We can break through our mindless schedules and see both routine activities and serendipitous happenings as little miracles one by one.  We start living the way our souls need to live, not how everyone around us needs us to live. 

I recently heard a podcast with Tami Simon (founder of Sounds True) and James Hollis (author and Jungian psychologist).  Hollis said, “Home IS the journey”.  It is in the passages where we feel tight and uncomfortable and we must search for the key so we can continue on our way.  And if we do it right, we will keep on with this journey until we can journey no more. 

I want to move into making life a daily ceremony of creative living and sacred being.  I have a long way to go, but I am not starting from the beginning.  I turn fifty-eight next week, and I have been working on this for as long as I have been alive.  I just sometimes couldn’t find the key to open the next door, but now I see this as a mystery, a curiosity, and as a sacred puzzle.  Being stuck means it is time to grow.  This discomfort motivates us to love ourselves enough to go into action.  This also has been a theme in my blog posts, and it is usually then that I feel compelled to write. 

I have written many times about how I feel that my passions will help me to one day serve others.  Today that vision became a bit clearer, and with that, I feel excitement, and therefore, more meaning.  On days that I choose fear over love, meaning gets buried deep within me.  Nothing seems clear and nothing seems meaningful.  When I follow love instead of fear, my spirit and passions are allowed to blossom, and when these are gifted energy, even the simplest routines of my day can be sacred. 

I am not naïve here folks.  This is some of the hardest work we can do.  But I want life to be a ceremony, and I feel in my core that it can be.   I don’t know how long we will be under the thumb of this virus or the thumb of political unrest.  but even when that ends, it will be something else.  There is always something else whether it be personal or in the larger community.  There is a way that I, you, and us can look deep into this mysterious life and pull from it the most gorgeous bouquet of magic.  That is now my journey. 

Tree Spirit Mask (Chez Moi)

Tree Spirit Mask (Chez Jude)

Full Moon Rising

Tree Spirit

This truly is my last blog post on Nightwalker’s Journey.  I will be starting a new blog for this next phase called One Sacred Star.  It has not been created yet, but I will be creating it this summer.  I feel very confident  that the “aha moments” I’ve had today, during this auspicious weekend, will be taking me on some wonderful new paths.  I know many of you are on similar paths, so we will crisscross at times, and we will walk arm in arm at times. 

So now, I turn the key

 and open the door

 to peer into the ceremony of living.

                Namaste

3rd Anniversary

 It's so strange to be writing this post in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic and all the complications surrounding it.  The situation we are in now is probably one of the greatest and most difficult lessons we will ever be given in our lives.  It is as if all the lessons I have had in the last several years have led up to this.  As extraordinary as this global situation is, I am not at all surprised that it is happening.  If there is one thing that I have learned since I was turned upside down and shaken into this new life, it is that death and uncertainty are two dependable friends.  These are two friends that most of us try to avoid at all costs.  But if we were to be truthful, we all know that they are constant companions. We have a choice. We either hide them in the closet for a later day or we bring them out to party.  Well, we are in a paaaaartay now, so we might as well get up-close-and-personal with these two friends because they are not going away.  And here's the real secret...they were ALWAYS here, kindly waiting for us to acknowledge them.
     So, here I am...It's three years later after leaving McKinney, Texas on April 3, 2017 in my camper, Night Walker.  I traveled the southwest in those first few months, studied a bit of drums in Bali, lived six months in my camper in the mountains east of Albuquerque, lived in downtown Albuquerque in a casita apartment with Jude, drove back and forth to Texas every month to finish teaching my high school senior piano students, camped out a bit more around the Albuquerque/Santa Fe area, helped Jude out in her year and a half stint with aggressive cancer treatments, bought land in far western New Mexico, and lived in my camper for a year on my builder's land while he and I built my house.  This past year, my Dad finally retired and moved to N.M. as well last June.  We  finished up my house and eventually were able to move in.  We still have work to do but there is not a huge rush at this point.  Jude survived her cancer, not without some complications, but we are so grateful she is alive and well now.  She and I are very much together and enjoy communicating several times daily.  I can say that this pandemic is certainly putting a damper on our regular visits together, but we are taking it in stride like everyone else.  And best of all, all these challenges over the last few years have brought us even closer together.

Outdoor Christmas Tree

On the Land

Dad's Butterfly Tree

Home at Sunrise

     It has and still is taking great patience to allow the Universe to rebuild my life after these last several years since my mother died.  I could never in my wildest dreams have thought that a single incident, like her death six years ago, would commence such a trajectory.  My visions of my life's purpose have been becoming stronger in the last year, and seem to be growing even more so as we experience this recent crisis.  I have gotten glimpses, all along the way,of leading a life that involves spirit and healing, and I have suspected that this would become very important in whatever unfolds.
     Lately, I have been made so aware of the absence of ceremony, ritual, and healing in the transitions of our lives.  Isn't it extraordinary that in the process of becoming "civilized", our ancestors almost obliterated the rites and passages that help humans transition during our most important and difficult times.  This leaves us with a feeling of loneliness and confusion in terms of how to move forward in each new phase.  We certainly have nods to these past rites but they usually are a shallow representation of what they used to be, and some just no longer exist. I have either observed or have been a participant in so many experiences that needed true tenderness.  I see how uncomfortable I have felt in these transitions with myself and with others.  Maybe it is because of this discomfort that I find myself leaning into them now.  They still make me a little uncomfortable, but I notice that I am becoming more resilient in the face of them, and I recognize even more so, the need for ceremony, compassion, caring words, prayers, and so much more during these times.  It is in times such as coming of age when we need to understand what is happening to our bodies and minds and what it really means to grow up.  It is in the months after giving birth that we need connection and a feeling that we are still an autonomous person and learn about self care. It is in our middle ages when many  are waking up to bigger realizations about life and need to feel grounded simply in order to grow and let go.  It is in illness when we need people to understand our needs and how to simply be there in a quiet way.  It is in aging when we need people to lean into us and not expect more than we can give and accept our bodies as they change into older skin.  It is in death when we need to be held and comforted and have a loved one simply "be" with us.  It is in all these times when we need to create ceremony, to pray, and to have gratitude and acceptance.  It is in these times that we must walk alone but not be lonely simply because others feel too uncomfortable with our otherness.  This is a path that I feel drawn to.

Medicine Mask: "Dancing Away the Mask of Shame"

"Rising Up From the Green"

Jude Collecting for Thanksgiving Totem

Preparing to decorate the Christmas Tree

Shamans Drumming for Health (Pandemic)

Ceremony for Tree Spirit Mask #1

Tree Spirit Mask in Jude's Cedar

     Today on my walk, I had some strong words with my Creator. I am overloaded with virtual connecting, so I went needing to feel the wind on my skin and hear the birds in my ears.  I needed to be able to listen to spirit again.  I walked and I talked out loud.  Most of you would have thought me to be some insane mountain woman. You know, people all over the world are praying for peace, for the pandemic to be cured, for more masks, for sanity in the world, and whatever else we most certainly need.  But, despite all those needs and cares, I experienced the most beautiful answer today.  We have an opportunity to change our lives so completely.  It really doesn't matter what we do;  it matters that we do it with an open heart and for the greater good of all beings.  So what I am realizing is that when I play music, or paint,  lead a meditation, or do a ceremony in the forest, I walk into this experience as a spiritual being dropping all ego.  Through this way of walking in the world, we heal, we touch, we help, and we grow.  This doesn't have to stop with our special talents or gifts.  It can include everything we do from the time we wake up to the time we fall asleep.  But mostly, I ask each and everyone of us that we all pay attention to our needs and the needs of those around us.  We are headed into a mountain of difficult transitions.  Perhaps if we all recognize the need for more ceremony and tenderness during these times, we might all find our deeper purpose.  Let us all lean into these uncomfortable moments as opposed to turning away.  Let us make the little things that we offer ourselves and all beings a gift from our hearts for the greater good of all.  Let us lean into these uncomfortable times and give them true meaning and acceptance.

Buddha in the Mist

Early Morning Coffee

Three Elk on the Land

12:12:12:12

   

Drumming Outside of Big Sky Cave

  December 12, 2019, twelve minutes after midnight will be here shortly.  12:12:12:12...a Cold Full Moon.  What better time to write could there possibly be?  My wood stove is blazing hot and I've been holed up in my house for four days without driving, due to mud that is so thick and slippery, I have no desire to get out at all.  I have had a lot of time to contemplate, feel, create, connect with old friends via the phone, but mostly, I've contemplated human transformation.  I am continuing to move into a new phase and as wonderful as the outcome may be, it is not always an easy experience.  And from many deep conversations with friends lately, I know that I am not alone.  Something is shifting in a very meaningful way.  Transformation is taking place all around this planet.  Old skins are shedding, and eventually, new skins will take their place.  

12:12:12:12

     During this time, I am realizing how important it is to observe what needs attention so that old habits and conditioning don't sabotage the process.  I'm not close to being "done".  I've just realized that transformation is happening, actually, but it is already time to take some initiative.  In the past, I have written about letting things just fall into place as they need to.  I am still saying that same thing, but I have a feeling that in this rebuilding phase, there comes a time to gather the tools that you feel you might need, make some kind of plan on how to sharpen these tools, be willing to be flexible if you feel that the plan needs tweaking, and then just trust that what got you here to begin with will push you onward and upward.

Watercolor I did yesterday

     I was just talking with a friend yesterday about this, and the word that kept coming up was "trust".  People will often tell others who might be going through a huge transformation or have a serious illness that they are brave and strong.  Those of us who have been in this situation don't often feel brave at all and are usually scared to death.  What is really going on is a huge amount of trust because in situations like these, there is often not a choice.  I know that all my changes were literally thrust upon me, and the real courage was in just trusting that something greater than me was going to catch me and hold me when I needed care.  I am still having to trust at this very moment.  The minute I don't, the conditioning of my past, of other people, and the world at large, can turn me into a bowl of jiggly jello.  Self doubt can loom like a three-headed beast.

     I sat down today to make a list of some detailed intentions that I have for this next phase of rebuilding, but I won't bore you with the details.  We all have to create our own individual intentions, but I will tell you some of the bigger thoughts that are wrapped around my intentions.  

     I know that the contacts I make with people or with nature must be as meaningful as a prayer.  This is where we can help transform others.  I can't change how they treat me, but I must learn to truly be with them whether they are human, animal, rock, or plant.

Jude and Me on the Land

Dad at Big Sky

 Secondly, I know that when I use the gifts that I have been given, I must think about them truly as gifts and share them with others as something sacred.  There is no more time to hold back because of perfectionism or other forms of ego.  In doing this, we share our spirit with the world around us, and what greater love is this? Receiving other's gifts in this way is equally important. 

Winter Concert-Keyboard Improvisation

Winter Concert with Riqq

 I also know that it is time to stop teaching in the traditional sense.  I want to lay down my teacher's robes and let them stay where they fall.  I want to teach when the opportunity arises and learn to stay quiet when it does not.  But when I am asked to help or teach, I want to walk with and beside whomever I help as opposed to telling them what they should do.

Me at a Drum Facilitation Workshop (my knee anyway!)

   And lastly, I want to walk in solitude more and more and get my head out of the techno cloud so that I can truly listen and feel.  I want to know what it feels like to just breathe.  That's a tall order in this world. today.  It's a tall order for me. We live in an addictive world in which most of us, have forgotten that we even breathe at all.

     So, I guess my thoughts these days are to get close up and personal with what is in front of my face and be present with what or who is there.  That means not being on-call 24/7 to social media and chat which is no easy task. I've been fearful of losing my larger community, but you know what?  When the heart is open and receptive, the community lives on at a deeper level. Close up can be face to face conversations, phone conversations, letters, emails, one to one texts.  There are so many ways to really communicate at a deep level.  But we must all take time to be alone and just breathe.

I am looking at my clock and it has just turned midnight.  I will say a gratitude for the moon as it turns 12:12:12:12. Good Night Moon.

     

      

Notes From A Cave

 

     I am sitting by the window of my bedroom.  It has been raining for two hours;  a much needed rain.  I have been surprised at the dryness of this monsoon season and the strange habits that the animals are having.  They, too, are in need of water.  The coyotes are pacing and yipping way too near the house, the pinon jays are trying to get the little nuts out of the hard green unripe pine cones, and the hummingbirds are literally gorging on the sugar water we put out.  It is as if they are watching our every move to see if we are coming with this ambrosia.   And us human animals?  We, my Dad and I, are just grateful to have a cooler temperature today and some moist air, as well as an excuse to hunker down and just "be" for a couple of hours after an incredibly difficult week of physical, mental, and emotional work.
     We have brought back the final load from our storage unit in Texas.  There are no more storage units!  That in itself is a huge accomplishment.  The number of new storage units I see built each time I go back tells me that perhaps the subject of letting go is a serious one.  I won't go into that, however, since mine are finally empty.  I simply don't want to think about that subject right now.  I only have a few more boxes to unpack and then that will be done.  In terms of the multiple bins of photographs my Dad and I brought back,  they are covered in tarps and will be dealt with another day.  That will be another letting go process.
     I have been lying on my bed listening to the rain and feeling the urge to write.  It's interesting that I feel this way because what I have also wanted to do is crawl in a cave like a bear and just be.  Life just keeps moving forward, however, and much hard work still has to be done.  Fall has not yet arrived, but it is around the corner.  A shed has to be built, I must put snow blocks on the roof before it gets cold, and gravel has to be spread all around the house and driveway.  I am weary in every way, but what is apparent to me is that this path is still going forward, with or without me, and I'll be damned if I quit now.
     In this new spiral of life, I am needing to take care of myself, be quiet, feel my heart and body more deeply,  and accept that life is truly a mixed up jumble of whatever is swirling around us.  As our president is tweeting insanity,  people are being shot just for going shopping.   Individuals in leadership positions and entire industries refuse to take responsibility for their own bad behavior, and we are left to decide how to move in a way that will make a positive impact in the world around us.  Today I found myself lost in a mixture of emotions that have been building throughout the week, and at one point, I was very angry about some work I had had done on my camper.  The work was shoddy, and I yet again have to take my camper to a town an hour and a half away to have it repaired correctly.  I stopped what I was doing due to my anger, and went directly to the phone.  I took a few deep breaths and called the company who had worked on the camper.  I had to confront the owner, but before I did, I realized that my demeanor at that moment had to be direct, calm, and kind. Luckily, I was successful.  I still have to take the camper back, but it will be fixed at no extra charge.  It was during this time that I realized that being solid in myself is the way to move in this world today.  We must become more direct yet kind, have more face to face time and less indirect communication, and walk like a bear with a purpose.

     This inner cave I want to be in is a place I  want to rest, to feel, to grieve what needs to be grieved, to observe, to rejuvenate and then?... lumber slowly out of the cave and yawn,  stand firm in who I am, and quietly walk through the forest of life taking the next step that the path asks me to take.  No grumbling is needed because each step is simply the step that brings what it brings.  I want to accept what is presented and respond the best I can.  We must all keep in mind that love is the only thing being asked of us.  If we know that we are trying to approach each moment as lovingly as we can for both ourselves and those around us, then we did our job that day.
     I have known for awhile that my path is leading me to help heal nature and help people through meditation, nature, art and music.  This hibernation time may well be a time to allow for next steps.  I recently saw an article about the climate strike our world's youth will be holding on September 20th.  They are anxious, as they should be, about the future of this planet and their own futures in it.  We have let them down by knowing there was a problem and just hoping that someone else would fix it.  And if you still don't think there is a problem, just good common sense must be telling you that recycling and cutting down on consumption is basically a good idea.  My patience with this debate is completely over, so you will have to be patient with me if I refuse to debate it any more.
      I am not in an area where I can formally strike, but I will do something.  I might fast, or drum, post nature poetry to friends, or meditate on my land.  I also might write my representatives on the 20th.   I might do all of the above.   I will certainly make it a day of prayer in gratitude for what the earth and our environment has given us and how it constantly and patiently tells us what it needs despite our neglect and aggressive destruction.  Also during this time, I must retreat to my inner cave.  I know that self-compassion and compassion for the world must go hand in hand.  We can no longer escape what the universe is asking us to do. It is literally screaming for help.  So, let's do what we absolutely must, for our own self care, stand firm in who we are, rest when we need, but say "yes, I'm ready to do what I can for this planet and for all the creatures on it."  Let's get quieter, listen harder, and be ready for what comes.  The bigger picture is huge, hard, and beautiful.  Grumbling time is over.  I'll be lumbering out of my cave in a few weeks or a few months...I;m not sure when.  I have no deadline for this, but I hope to get a bear hug from some of you as you walk out of your caves as well.

 

   

Places Everyone...AND...ACTION!

 

  It has been a long time since I posted a blog post.  Actually, I didn't think that I would be posting again, but something is gnawing at me.  I don't quite know what that gnawing is, but I am being forced to listen.  Usually when something has been bothering me for this long, I would have dealt with it already, but the house is almost finished, and the amount of work I have had to do in the last many months has kept me preoccupied enough to not necessarily ignore it, but to be forced to side step it regularly.  This is not the way I like to roll these days, but there it is.  With all that said, I'm baaaack!

     I have been living in the house since the beginning of June...shhhhh...don't tell anyone because it is not finished.  Dad moved in with me at the same time, and boy did we hop to work right away.  We worked like dogs, grouting, staining, polying, and painting for about a month and a half before we had running water, a toilet, and an oven range.  We did just fine with my outhouse, a camp stove, and a hydrant, but boy, was it exciting the day that all of that came into the house!  Everyone was jazzed.  It was a  big day to say the least.  That evening, Dad and I sat down to dinner, and I looked around.  I felt strange.  I tried to describe my feelings and then I started to sob.  Nothing felt right.  I went from being a hard working laboror to home owner in one fell swoop.  I realized I had grown used to roughing it, and I was proud of that.  I still am.  I wondered, "What the hell am I doing in such a nice place with these luxuries?"  I realize now that I had created an identity around the hard work, the rare shower, the roughing it for the last couple of years, and I was clinging to that identity, as strange as that might sound. 

     We talked about these feelings over dinner, and I have come to realize that yet again, this really isn't MY house.  I didn't ever really plan to do this.  It just seemed the next right step, and I kept saying yes over and over again.  For some reason, this event happened, and I will now let the next part unfold and see what this land and house are up to.  It has been the single most difficult thing I have ever done.  I know it was an equally, if not more challenging, project for my builder.  The weather over the winter was the worst in this area in nine years.  Finding decent help was almost nonexistent. People from Albuquerque who came out to do some major work, charged a fortune.  But in the end, I am so proud to say that I did more than my fair share of rolling up my sleeves and working throughout the whole project.  My builder, Don, has taught me so much, for which I am so grateful.  

     As we come to the final phase of the house, I am now left with this gnawing sensation which seems to be growing.  I still don't know what it is.  Maybe a lack of direction, maybe fears of what's to come, maybe a new life full of uncertainty, Maybe it's a new lifestyle with people around now, (remember, I have been living alone in my small camper for awhile now). Maybe it's this or maybe it's that....who really knows, but for some reason, I am feeling somewhat cloaked again.  Fear does this.  It's something to pay attention to.  

     I'm not sure why we, as modern humans, cloak ourselves and create fear and discomfort that is not real.  No fear is real unless something is harming us right in this very moment.  There is so much fear in the world right now.  It is epidemic, and yet, most of it is not real.  So, now I am having more time to look at this gnawing, this discomfort, and I'm having to sit with it.  Some friends recently told me, "You know what to do, Toni. Just do it."  I hate that, but they are right.  What I desire is immediate answers that will make me feel open-hearted, loving, and above all else...all knowing.  Oh dear, that last part is me trying to play God!  Not a good idea.  I guess I better back up and do this another way.

The view after a hard day of roofing

Don, painting

Austin, my son, after a week of helping tile my floors.  Thank you my dear!

     So today, I realized that sometimes this gnawing cloak can't be thrown off like a coat, but needs to be gradually peeled away.  I think I can only sit with the feeling for so long, and then I need to take action...any action.  Today I took a hike, the first one since Easter.  I talked to my Creator a lot of the way, I burned some sage, I took some photos, and then?  I went and bought some toilet paper.  Action is action after all.  I'm staying in touch with a few close friends, I meditate, I'll start doing art and music soon, even if it is small little pieces, and tonight I decided to blog.  So thank you for allowing me this time to include you, the readers, in my action.  if you are still with me at the close of this post, I am honored.  Let's see what peeling this cloak off will reveal.  Join me in peeling off your own cloak, but only if you are ready.  Unclenching is a lot of work.

Taking a walk...action