Peacock Dreams

Today I'm thinking of what it means to be grateful in the midst of adversity. Many people I know are having a very difficult time right now, some facing challenges that shake them to the core, and others dealing with the slow, daily plod of showing up even when each day feels slightly more taxing than the last.

I think of all the things we have to be grateful for, even those things bought at very high cost. I think of the origins of the upcoming holiday and the taint that marks it - the oppression, the thievery, the murder - and still, I appreciate that there is a holiday just about gratitude, that is reminiscent of harvest festivals that happen all over the world.

The dark night of the soul is a teacher. There can be joy in the midst of great sorrowing. There can be gratitude under adversity. There can be a new life growing from the shards of the old. There is ever work to be done, but there also needs to be time set aside for rest.

Today, I send out thanks for all of my life's blessings, and for everyone who is making an effort, who is showing up, who is sitting at the bedside of a sick beloved, who is struggling with work or lack of work, with their children, with heartache, with alienation, and with growth.

Take heart. Breathe deeply of the air of this day. Give thanks for what you can. Your life is worth it.

Love and respect. Many different thoughts about these are swirling as I drink my morning tea, wondering if another round of rain is on the way.

So many people around me lately - in classes, spiritual direction, or online contacts - are struggling on some level or another with self-love and self-respect. This is two-fold. First is the stuff I write about often: are we not part of a larger fabric of being? Are we not all necessary components of the cosmosphere? Are we not unique expressions of life itself, finding our own way? If the answers to these questions are "yes" then are not self-respect and self-love important components of our practice? I sometimes say that my definition of "professionalism" is: "Respect yourself, respect the other person, respect the work." If we don't start with some amount self-respect, what is the basis for the other two forms? We need to learn and enact all three. If I don't respect myself, why should I expect you to respect the work we do together? How do we grow?

The second part of the struggle comes via the lenses through which we see ourselves: the distortions, the wish for reassurance that we do exist. We do matter. It is alright to need some outside reflection, but sometimes I'm struck at the depth of our blindness to ourselves, at the ways our vision limits our experience, at the lack of self-knowledge, self-love, and self-respect that can live from this narrow place - this mitzrayim or land of boundary, constriction and bondage as it is known in Judaism - and end up circumscribing not only our identities but our lives.

One example that struck me last week came during my training session, which is the place I'm actively studying self, soul, body, and personality right now. My intrepid trainer demonstrated what she wanted me to do, using a weight that looked entirely too heavy for me. I laughed out loud, shook my head, and went to pick it up. It was not a problem. Literally. I'm not saying it was easy after several reps, but a shock went through my body as I realized the weight was exactly right for me. It wasn't even a stretch, yet I had just assumed I would not be able to lift it. I wrote to her later: "...Makes me wonder what other limiting ideas I have about myself and my body."

We live in the mitzrayim and we do not have to. Once we reach adulthood, no person or circumstance keeps us in the narrow place without our permission. The narrow place can be helpful during times of incubation: we may wish a bit of extra constriction in order to figure out where the new boundaries are, push against them, and learn how to stretch. But we cannot stay there forever. Sooner or later we have to move to bigger pastures, to well-watered fields and wider vistas - or heavier weights - in order to get a fresh perspective. Staying in the narrow place constricts not only our vision of self, but our vision of the world and our vision of possibility.

We can become vast, gorgeous, and strong. We can live fully and brightly. When we let ourselves out of the boxes of our thoughts, we can more clearly see what we can do and not only who we can become, but who we are.

What would life be like if our only boundary became the boundary of love?

L'chaim

Transgender Day of Remembrance.

Recalling those who died because of any combination of hatred, ignorance, stupidity, homophobia, sexism or fear.

Transgender Day of Remembrance.

Recalling those who were killed far from their friends, at the hands of violence.

There were 95 transgender related murders internationally last year, up from 47 the year before. Has hatred doubled? are the effects of ignorance and fear exponential? [edit: a source reports that this number is up to 162 reported murders.]

For those who's names we do not know, and those who's faces some of us recall.
For all of these, again, is the prayer first written by Tristissima in 2007 and added to by myself:
(hir words are in italics, my additions not)

Hermaphroditus, look at the names of the dead.
Ardhanarisvara, read the names of the dead.
Melek Ta'us, remember the names of the dead.
Eris, look at the names of the dead.
Antinous, read the names of the dead.
Hoor-paar-kraat, remember the names of the dead.
Tlazolteotl, look at the names of the dead.
Azathoth, look at the names of the dead.
Pomba-Gira, read the names of the dead.
Inanna, remember the names of the dead.
Baphomet, look at the names of the dead.
Avalokitesvara, read the names of the dead.
Faro, remember the names of the dead.
Ymir, look at the names of the dead.
Indra, read the names of the dead.
Ometeotl, remember the names of the dead.
Asushunamir, carry our tears.


What is remembered, lives.

Escalation inside does not help with escalation outside. If we need to hurry up, we usually need to slow down internally. If we must face what feels like external opposition, internal violence is of no help.

Think of a situation you've faced recently. What were the external conditions and what was your internal state? Were you remembering to center, or was there agitation you were acting from? Did you feel well grounded or as if you were spinning hard and fast?

The more centered, stable and energetically calm we are inside, the more efficient, effective, quick and powerful we can be on the outside. Internal spinning or ramping up is not the answer - it tends to waste energy and leave us less focused or attentive. If we sense we are ramped up (or its counterpart, caved in), we can try not to speak or act immediately. We can attempt to adjust internally first, then see what options arise. Usually, there are far more choices at hand than first appeared.

As with anything, the more we practice this, the easier it becomes. If you wish, let's try:

Breathe with me. Find your center and notice your feet, connected to the earth. Assess your inner state. How will you choose to speak or act today? What gives you a real sense of your power?

What happens when we don't feel strong? What happens when our identity is so wrapped up in what we do that we forget who we are becoming?

This happens to us all.

Last weekend, I did some energy work with a person who was walking on crutches, has been out of work for over a year, and was struggling. She was used to being strong, vital, to running everywhere and being the go-to person. She could not do that anymore and was starting to have trouble holding on after two surgeries and perhaps one more to come. Pain, coupled with a sense of defeat, were making it hard for her to stay in her body. This, of course, made the pain management worse. The more we run away from ourselves, the less life energy can flow in and support our lives and healing. The more we collapse upon our systems, the more we hurt and the more numbing we need. This is true of escaping pain in the body, the emotions, the mind, and the soul.

In my work with her, the message came through clearly that the lessons of her healing were not for her alone, they were her gift to the community. Everyone around her needs to partake of the hard lessons she is currently experiencing. In expanding out, in reaching her energy up and down, rather than choosing to cave in, in calling her soul back into her body, she will become the teaching. Her life is now the lesson, not in what she can or cannot do, but in how she is showing up for it. Her strength will bolster everyone around her. Her pain reflects our pain. We need those lessons. We need to look more deeply at what we run from, what causes us to collapse, what identities have become props for our avoidance of the deeper reality that We Are. Identity is not the I. Our Doing is generated by our Being.

We do not experience learning through avoidance. We do not learn by always feeling strong. We learn by dancing with every particle of life as it moves forward.

We are wrestling with angels. Sometimes they wear our own faces.



[here is a good post on this subject, by my Sister teacher Katrina Messenger.]

When we are open to the moment, we are open to the teaching. When we are in a place of gratitude, we are in a state of love.

Feeling love for the city of San Francisco and grateful for teaching today: for the lessons of the body; of presence; of other humans in their frailty and strength... I stood at the bus stop, reading The Gift of Danger by Mary Stein. A mildly lit-up man interrupted to compliment my hair. We struck up a conversation about New Orleans (where both he and my father were raised), race, class, work and finally, attention. Yes, we discussed the importance of attention, which I brought up upon hearing him speak of training and then re-training in the art of construction work. We talked about the many ways that attention helps us, from the basic and personal on out into global consciousness. Then we got onto the bus and went our separate ways.

The sidewalk oracle was telling me to pay attention, to remain in presence, to open to the teaching he had to offer. I could have brushed him off - resisting the encounter - as another early morning drinker not worth my time. Luckily, the music of teaching was strong enough in me today that we were able to have our exchange.

The students in my Daily Practice course are struggling with resistance. Resistance is the act of attempting to stop the flow of connection. Resistance is an attempt to block the energy of the moment. To counter resistance, we need, not more resistance, but a softness. An opening. Unarmored at the bus stop, there was softness in me along with the awareness of surroundings and the bag on my shoulder, and people coming and going. The awareness enabled me to feel safe and alert. The softness enabled me to receive the teaching offered by my fellow philosopher. Had I simply been armored up, I would have been simultaneously less safe, less aware and less open to the moment at hand.

Armor cuts us off and impedes movement. Centeredness is stronger and supports movement. Aikido black belt Mary Stein says this:

...the "no" of resistance is merely a subset of the truth and reality of the greater "yes" of movement. While we're alive, it's impossible not to move.

Can we choose movement instead of fighting against it? Can we breathe when tension enters, and attempt to give ourselves more space? Can we recognize the flow of teaching that is everywhere? Can we open out in gratitude?

Today is Armistice Day, honoring the end of fighting on the Western Front during the Great War. What is the battle we are fighting inside right now? Can we lay down our arms, just for a moment, and see what may happen then? We can pick them up again at any time, but for now, let that in us which resists shake hands with that in us which loves. Who knows what stories they might share?

I write a lot about God Hirself being Process and flow, of how perfection is not static, and how this includes our lives. We each have an opportunity to learn and change, with every breath we take. Below is an announcement from two dedicated priestesses who have gifted many of us with their time, energy, wisdom and service. For myself, I am grateful to have walked their land, had tea in their kitchen, taught in their halls, and done ritual in the sacred groves they tended.

I offer my blessings and thanks to them as their ministry changes, and look forward to what may come.

Blessings to you both, Cynthea and Patricia, and blessings on all the people who have tended Diana's Grove, and to all who have crossed the stream to enter the gates of magic.

---------

In 2010, Diana’s Grove Mystery School will be working with the story of Persephone. It is a story of cycles, and as we all know, part of the wisdom of cycles is that all things come to an end. While it is our intention that Mystery School will continue, Diana’s Grove Center, as you and we have known it, is coming to an end.

Cynthea Jones and Patricia Storm founded Diana’s Grove on January 17, 1994, and for 15 years their work of myth, story and transformation has grown and deepened on this land. The Grove has been a sanctuary where people could come to experience the world of nature free from the distractions of modern city life, a place to be in touch with the natural elements and to honor wind, fire, water, and earth. A community has grown here as well – a community of people striving to find ways to heal self, world, and relationships that includes the more than 41 people who have lived and worked here, over the years, the Mystery School community, well-known guests such as Starhawk, T.Thorn Coyle, Margo Adler, Ubaka Hill, Trebbe Johnson and Steven Forrest, and the many who have come for other events or simply to experience the magic and healing to be found here.

While blessed with these wonderful supporters who have given so generously of their time, energy, and money, Diana’s Grove Center has nevertheless been suffering under the current economic climate. It’s founders no longer have the energy and stamina required to support their dream, in it’s current form, in these challenging times. They have decided to make major changes before major changes are forced upon them, and will be selling Diana’s Grove. It is their intention, and the intention of the residential and Mystery School staff, to make this transition with as much positive energy and integrity as we can.

What will that look like? Some questions will have to wait for answers as this transition unfolds, but some things we do know. We plan to continue our programming here on the land through 2010. Cynthea and Patricia anticipate sale sometime during 2010 or 2011. If the sale happens in 2010, they will ask for a closing date in late November or early December so that we can complete all Mystery School and non-Mystery School events scheduled here next year.

Mystery School will continue and… next year will be the last in this form, on this magical land. If you’ve been waiting for the right time to join Mystery School, to visit again, visit for the first time, or to introduce friends and family to this land and our work, this could be that time. We will make every event in 2010 a special one. We are planning a grand “reunion” Fall Equinox event, September 17-19, that will be open to everyone. We hope to see many old friends and familiar faces there.

For 2011, we are looking at other locations where we can gather for weekends and week-long events. We will continue seeking out the natural world as our stage for Mystery School, and working with myth, story, and transformation. Cynthea and Patricia plan to stay in the Ozarks, and continue providing a more limited Dog Rescue service. They will travel to Mystery School events and be open to doing workshops in other locations as well.

Here are a few more questions we’ve anticipated:

What happens to the land investors?
Investors in the project will be refunded any monies invested less contributions made. We are unable to refund contributions, as they were reportable as tax-deductible funds. Those who have invested in the land project will be receiving additional information shortly.

How much will the Grove sell for?
That’s one question we also share. We will know more after appraisal by a local realtor. Originally we had 102 acres (more or less). We added 40 acres last year with the land funds. Since moving here we have added the Great Room to the main house, built 15 cabins that house 62 people, added a commercial kitchen, finished the barn to include a 2-room apartment, added 2 pavilions as well as 2 large and 2 small storage buildings, lovely outdoor showers, 6 outhouses, a kennel house, a 2nd sewage lagoon, a decorative pond, a hot tub, 4 decks, and many lovely outside areas. There is no way to put a price on the magic, energy, and memories that live here.

What will happen to the trees?
We have no intention to sell to a logger.

What will happen to the dogs?
We are working diligently to find placement for many of the dogs currently at the Grove. We expect to reduce numbers by not taking more large dogs or dogs requiring long-term care. We have a resource list of alternatives for people needing shelter services. About 50 dogs will move with Cynthea and I. If you would like more information, please contact us.

What can you do to help?
Continue to support us in our transition. Come as often as you can. Recommend our work and let people know this may be the last opportunity to experience a very special and unique place and people. Do magic for the future of the Diana’s Grove philosophy and land. If you or anyone you know is interested in continuing the work here, contact us. We would dearly love to see Diana’s Grove continue in the same or similar environmental/magical tradition.

Next year we will be working with the story of Persephone. It is a story of cycles, and a fitting end to this cycle of an impossible dream, made manifest for so many years. We plan to re-tell and live out this rich, ancient story through the year, in full and reverent awareness that a beloved form is ending, as well as in joyous celebration of our years together, on this land. We anticipate a year of profound, deep and healing work, intentional farewells, glad welcoming of new Mysteries, and laying the foundation for the continuation of this community, this philosophy, this dream that has touched the lives of so many.

Please join us.

Visitations (a poem in progress)

I

Awakened by a man
Full tall, with skin of night
Clad in the long white robes of evocation.
From his hands streamed light of stars
Into my soul.

The underground stream runs long and wide
watering the roots of ancestral trees.

Awakened by a woman
Roaming fierce with lion strength,
Within the midnight room therein to seed
My spine with unknown teachings
Not yet lost.

The serpent coils upon the tree and shakes
the leaves of worlds, count nine and ten.

Awakened by a voice
In the early light post dawn,
That simply spoke, "Wake up!" into my ear.
Channeling a start for all the lessons
Still to come.

What fruits are hanging ripely,
Readying Autumnal drop toward underground?

I remember.


II

What is be-coming and what beckons?
What does coil at root and branch?
Time is here, and of your essence.
Now arise!

There is an opening in sky
And one right there, beneath your feet.
Learn how to dance. Learn now to listen.
Learn to breathe.





[Speaking of ancestors, here is Hal Duncan's elegy for Matthew Shepard:
Sonnets for Orpheus]

Be intent on action, not on the fruits of action.
- Lord Krishna in the Bhagavad Gita

This is something I'm always attempting, and of course, I don't always "get it right"! Yeah, a little weak perfectionist humor this morning. Hope you bear with me anyway.

Last weekend was a case in point. A small group of us planned a ritual to do on a stone encircled hilltop under cold and moonlit sky. Intense inner work happened - we walked with the ancestors and were asked to touch our hero's hearts and to take up the task required - we gazed into the mortal reminders of bare skulls and black mirrors held by the Battle Goddess reflected internal spaces...

Because of logistical challenges with the space, a sense that I could have handled a ritual transition better, and likely myriad other factors, we never got to an ecstatic state, so I did not feel satisfied with my leadership. I've "done better" as a priest. What hubris!

You see, the next morning everyone was engaged in discussion that was a direct product of something that happened to all of us in that ritual, and four days later it is quite apparent from things happening in my life and the lives of my friends that what we experienced together is going to have some pretty deep consequences. We are battling. That ritual "worked". It was as it ought to have been. I was just attached to a certain part of the outcome. I didn't get dessert after a savory dinner. Yes, next time we might plan things differently, but this time, things just were, as they were. In the moment.

In our lives, what is, is. We show up for it. Practice doesn't have to feel good. The mind doesn't have to be a still pond instead of one filled with the quacking of hungry ducks. I don't have to do the medicine ball throw as beautifully as my trainer - my muscles tell me I did something yesterday! Relationships hit rough patches while we work things through again, yet we still love our partners. Ritual doesn't go as we expected. What is the result of all this showing up? Hopefully we gain enough presence to show up yet again to our lives, to our meditation cushions, to our bodies, to our friends, to our Gods... We become responsible adults, fully embodying our lives to the best of our abilities.

We can't know what that will look or feel like, but we can know that some effect will happen. It always does.

What we do, say, and think does matter. We are forming an unknown world and we are in-formed in turn. We just can't get too hung up on perceiving how or why. Things reveal themselves in time.

Perform actions, firm in discipline,
relinquishing attachment...

This week I asked my students:

"What in you needs to recommit to practice? What in you wishes to strengthen your commitment? What other parts of your life need refreshed energy?"

And in spiritual direction sessions and my own training, these questions have given rise to thinking about how it is so often easier to commit to the parts of ourselves that feel strong... but what does it take for us to commit to the parts of self that feel soft, vulnerable, or weak? They hold just as much - if not sometimes more - of our energy than the strong parts, yet so often we continue to leave them out in the cold, or we work around them and strengthen ourselves in ways that are ultimately out of balance, just as we do around any injury. We mutate, trying to get along, and sometimes end up weaker overall until one day, we run up hard against these limitations. What is our choice then? We can crumble completely, or we can begin to do this work, too.

Can we recommit to all of these parts? Can we embrace our softness in order to grow truly strong?

I'll keep trying if you will.

The night is long and the wind is cold,
we are lit by the fire of love.
The night is long and our hearts are bold,
the future is our making.
Goddess! We are open, to the task that is to come.
Goddess! We are willing, fill us with your power!


Saturday, The Morrigan wove in and among us all day long, asking for preparation and for sacrifices willingly made. That night, she came to us on the wings of crows and ravens. She came in the heat of battle, and the frenzy of desire. She rode on the spirits of those who were, to raise the cry for what is to come.

What inside us is willing to stand firm?

What in us is willing to train?

Inside us beats a hero's heart. Under what old messages is this buried? What in us fears the task that is at hand?

"Rise up, children. Rise up to your own calling. Rise up to prepare for what is to come."

What is to come?

No one does know, but the messages are on the wind: "Find something you believe in and stand firmly there. Train your body, mind, heart and spirit. Become as strong and supple as you can be. Help your friends and those around you. Do not let go of your own power. Find your weakness and embrace it. Work with the shadows in your heart. Above all, listen to the call, to the tugging at your core. What is strong in you? Support this with all your might and your ability."

Sunday morning, in the aftermath of ritual, we sat around discussing the ways in which we need to grow stronger. Old stories of muggings and assaults came up, again and again. I joked with a compatriot that along with organizing my class "Mysteries of the Body in Prayer" perhaps we should organize "Mysteries of the Body in Battle." Several people decided that this should not be a joke. We have agreed to help each other train, to grow insightful and aware, and to learn the ways of strength.

We can all help each other toward greatness, no matter what is to come. Are we willing? That willingness alone speaks of the courageous heart.

As Freya spoke to me three years ago: "The battle boar is ready. Do not stand down."


Let us rise to our full height instead.




[Wishing a blessed Dia de los Muertos for those who celebrate.]

The Man i' th' Moon's too slow—till new-born chins
Be rough and razorable; she that from whom
We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again
(And by that destiny) to perform an act
Whereof what's past is prologue; what to come,
In yours and my discharge. - Shakespeare's "The Tempest"

We think on the past this time of year. We build altars to the ancestors as our bones feel the coming chill and darkness. Candles flicker and nights grow short. We gather the sacred drink and food, prepare our offerings, and band together sharing warmth and companionship.

It is not only ancestral spirits we can look to during this time, but our own pasts. What is locked away in dusty trunks in our minds? What emotions have been buried? What old injuries of body, heart, or mind bring reminders - gross or subtle - through the aching in our chests or joints, or the tearing up of eyes?

This theme is coming up again and again with my spiritual direction clients these few weeks leading toward Samhain. Old pain is surfacing as the sun gives way to night. I ask if they can forgive themselves. I ask if they can believe they are deserving of love. They carry the stories of their ancestors, the actions of parents and grandparents passed on down the line. They carry their own stories, internalized by years of forgetfulness, guilt, or shame. These stories have substance during this time of year, when the veils are said to be thin. These stories grow legs and dance.

My own stories are here with me as I type. My trainer is asking me to look at the profound shift my life took after a motorcycle accident changed everything. The accident affected my body, of course, but also my livelihood, and most significantly, my emotional sense of power and well-being. I went from feeling at the top of my game - weightlifter, professional bellydancer - to walking with a cane. I was unable to work for a time and in excruciating pain from hip displacement for several years. This was pivotal. Literally. And it started me on a cycle toward chronic fatigue syndrome and a delimiting of my life. In feeling physically and emotionally weak, unable to get back to the propping up of my machismo, I curled in on myself for awhile. I made choices that enabled my spirit to feel safe. My life became an incubator for what was to come. This past became a prologue.

From this event, I had to learn new ways of being. I had to rebuild from the core out. My life was strengthened by these changes, eventually, but my heart still remembers how hard it was to feel so weak. That, I carry. And that helps me, every time I listen to a client in pain or grief. Something in me responds, because it knows that these lessons are difficult ones. But because they enable honesty, they are the lessons that can open us to deeper joy. They bring about self-knowledge.

Just as our lives are both built upon the gifts and mistakes of our ancestors, so are our lives built upon our own mythic stories. Are the stories "true"? What is underneath the myth? What is another layer? Revisiting these stories is a trap for some of us - we'd rather repeat the past than live in the present - but for others of us stories we have set aside as from some other time are fruitful fields for Autumnal gleaning. What seeds were planted there, what withered, what was plowed under and what grew in it's place? Everything in our process affects what is to come.

Listen to the stories brought by the wind and the calling of the crows. Listen to the stories told around the fire. Listen to the stories you have not wanted to hear. Listen to the stories you have longed for.

This is how we learn.

My trainer asks me:

iv) do you recall the quality of feeling weak in your body? what was the
exact body sensation and what did it bring up emotionally? what did machismo
entail, and what did you replace it with?

v) what is your perspective on invincibility and dignity?

The questions settle in me as I do my work and turn my sights toward greeting the spirits and dancing around a fire in a stone circle this weekend. These questions will continue to help me now, and to give a new lens to the time in my life when a car turned left and crushed my leg between its bumper and my motorcycle, flinging me to the ground, where I rocked and cried until the ambulance came. Where my housemate, walking by, came to bend over me in the middle of the intersection, to ask what he could do to help. That is the past, but it lives inside me still. My dignity was crushed, but something stronger has grown up from that time, though the parts that felt weakened, sometimes struggle still.

My harvest is good. I feel grateful. And this time of year also carries the bittersweet knowledge that what had to be plowed under for the current crop to thrive was a bright and gorgeous thing...

Its taste remains.

Thought of the day:
Surrender to the teaching, not the teacher. The teacher should be a trustworthy guide.

Some students and compatriots are having a lively discussion of consciousness and "free will" online (yes, I will write up my rant on our general lack of freedom and will someday). Simultaneously, I'm getting ready to give a talk on Wholistic Magic and teach a weekend on the topic of Self-Possession in the Twin Cities...

All of this brings me back to our general mechanicality, our quest for integration, and the eventual re-membering of something we can actually call "I". Can we notice our parts today? Can we call them to attention? Can we try to find that in us which feels conscious and connected? Can we do something - today - to remind ourselves that we have a wish to be whole?Can we bring as many parts as possible to bear on each situation we encounter? Just for today? Tomorrow, if we wish, we can return to our sleepwalking. But today, I'd like to try this experiment together. Too much occurs because of disconnection: torture, war, hatred... Today, I'd like to call up a remembrance of connection, love, and beauty.

I leave you with this gorgeous poem by Pablo Neruda to help any of us who choose to try this experiment today:

We are Many (Muchos Somos)

Of the many men whom I am, whom we are,
I cannot settle on a single one.
They are lost to me under the cover of clothing
They have departed for another city.

When everything seems to be set
to show me off as a man of intelligence,
the fool I keep concealed on my person
takes over my talk and occupies my mouth.

On other occasions, I am dozing in the midst
of people of some distinction,
and when I summon my courageous self,
a coward completely unknown to me
swaddles my poor skeleton
in a thousand tiny reservations.

When a stately home bursts into flames,
instead of the fireman I summon,
an arsonist bursts on the scene,
and he is I. There is nothing I can do.
What must I do to distinguish myself?
How can I put myself together?

All the books I read
lionize dazzling hero figures,
brimming with self-assurance.
I die with envy of them;
and, in films where bullets fly on the wind,
I am left in envy of the cowboys,
left admiring even the horses.

But when I call upon my DASHING BEING,
out comes the same OLD LAZY SELF,
and so I never know just WHO I AM,
nor how many I am, nor WHO WE WILL BE BEING.
I would like to be able to touch a bell
and call up my real self, the truly me,
because if I really need my proper self,
I must not allow myself to disappear.

While I am writing, I am far away;
and when I come back, I have already left.
I should like to see if the same thing happens
to other people as it does to me,
to see if as many people are as I am,
and if they seem the same way to themselves.
When this problem has been thoroughly explored,
I am going to school myself so well in things
that, when I try to explain my problems,
I shall speak, not of self, but of geography.

The inner guide is ever in the belly. In the mind. In the heart. In the breath that enters and exits. The inner guide is in attention. The guide is.

Can you

DROP... ?

(shhhhhhhh. Be still.)

Love Poem to This Process


The process of our humbling
Is the same dance as the
Claiming of our pride:
Based in the "Know thyself" that
She spoke clear from Delphic seat.
So much yet here to learn,
Through tender exploration
And the summoning of will.

(Rose hips grow in Autumn's garden.
A hand is longing for the lover's face.)

To everything apply. And sometimes
Lessons rise and spill through letting go,
Unfolding the tight grip
And tensing sinew:
The better to receive
A deep transmission from the rain,
That soaks through cloth to skin
As bicycle wheels seek home,

(Gutters flood from inflowing water, what
in us desires and fears the deluge?)

Release inside the better yet to listen
To her breath as you lean closer,
And the better able still:
Unbolt perception, sense his pain.
The learning of humility is rooted
In this pride that tells us
"Here is where I stand.
This is the core of power
And comprehension."

(Can we crack like pouring sky to mouth the words,
"I love you" to the Seer as she beckons us within?)

Opening at threshold
To everything we still have yet to...

Light.


- T. Thorn Coyle
Waxing Crescent, October 2009

This is part two of a blog post on connection.

We make ritual noise
We weave the fabric of dreams
We build cities of sound
We feel the rhythm of time
We live dangerous lives
We have the power of will - Covenant

Take a breath with me. We breathe in life and we breathe out connection with everything that lives. The iron in our blood flows with the same substance as the iron in the stars, and the iron in our earth. We are connected. Earlier today I wrote about connection and showing up. Now I want to speak of connection as a form of prayer. Funny word that, yes? I will try to explain what it means to me.

“Prayer is an act of communicating…” says many a dictionary. Last night, I prayed.

Last night I went to hear the Swedish band Covenant. They’ve been making music for over 20 years and have sold many, many albums, yet here they were, back in San Francisco playing to a crowd of a few hundred at most, in a smallish club. Even with the crowd, I was standing a few feet from the stage. Were they petulant or disappointed that they weren’t at a larger venue? Did they treat us with contempt? No. They were fully emotionally present. Eskil, the lead singer, closed his eyes and reached, in and up. And danced. We also danced, and leapt, and pounded our arms in the air…

But as the music washed through me, my hands kept wishing to turn to the mudras of prayer. They wanted to lift, palms up, in a praise position that also serves to elevate the heart. They wished to form invoking triangular portals in the air. My palms wanted to press against each other and say “namaste”.

Struck by this, a fleeting thought moved through, wondering, “why?” And I realized, it is not simply that my religious experience is one that fully includes life, the body, pounding music, dance, it was because Covenant was spreading out connection. Communion. And that sort of deep connection, in any situation, to me, tastes just like prayer. It is my prayer.

Every time I become fully present in any moment - laughing with friends, sparring in the gym, teaching, dancing, making love, sitting in meditation, scrubbing soup pots – this connection is also there. Full connection is both the receiving of communication, energy and power and the offering up of the same.

What do you offer today? What do you agree to receive? I often repeat my favorite line from the Surah Rahman in the Qu’ran: “Which of the favors of God will you refuse today?” This form of prayer, of connection and communion, of the offering of presence – whether facing down our demons or bringing our lover in for a kiss - is the opposite of that refusal. It is the joyous yes shouted out by Walt Whitman, Martha Graham, Ida B. Wells and everyone else who lived a life filled with inspiration and the continued quest to show up, to be present, to connect.

Last night, Covenant sang “We make ritual noise…” I could not help but agree.

And during their second encore, after one stranger tried to make connection by putting an arm around my neck and telling me I was beautiful - all because of a friendly smile after a typical nightclub collision - I noticed that a person in front of me had her hands palms together, raised above her head. This was her offering, also in gratitude, for the gift of music.

Breathe in life. Breathe out connection. Radiate will and heart, ripple out, affect the world. Dance a prayer.

This is part one of a two-part blog on connection:

We are riddled with contradictions and opposing forces. We do things for myriad reasons, yet so often think we should be doing things out of some purity that very few attain. Why? Because we want to be noble and good. We want to do things for the very best reasons, rather than what seems petty or small.

But you know what? We just need to show up anyway. We need to make a commitment, however impure, however filled with coarse impulses mixing with the fine. Why? Therein lies the path to integration, to wholeness, and to presence. This is how we connect our parts to each other and how we then connect out with the rest of the world. Besides, if we wait until some moment when we feel perfect, we shall never show up at all. All of our parts deserve to walk the pathways of commitment, each contributing however it may. Otherwise, no growth will come and we will miss opportunity after opportunity to see ourselves, to know ourselves, to test ourselves, and often, to just enjoy our lives.

Here are some things to chew on:

1/In my "Crafting a Daily Practice" class, someone talked about the dangers of showing up for practice in order to either impress someone else or impress one's own ego.

2/While preparing to do my assigned sprints and a short jog yesterday - my tendency is to loathe both - I wrote to my trainer that part of my motivation in the moment was that my leather trousers were fitting well again. I asked, "Progress... or simply vanity?"

3/Fight trainer Vincent Brown writes: “Doubt is the self-generated fear of being in over your head…. You have to commit to the unknown and commit to the attack. Evaluate yourself afterward.”

4/Yesterday I watched myself miss a few chances at full presence and connection. I allowed the energy of impatience - which I have worked for years to shift my relationship with – to disconnect rather than re-connect me. The result: two mildly annoying interactions with a sweetheart when I could have chosen to breathe and center instead.

My trainer’s response to my email on progress or vanity was simply: “Both. That is the way with integration.” Which sounds like something I would say. As a matter of fact, I know I’ve said it repeatedly! And it is what I thought when the student wrote about being concerned with spiritual materialism. We need to show up with what we have, to the best of our ability at the time. So part of us shows up for meditation or our workout or our relationships in order to feel good about ourselves, or look better in leather or not feel so lonely all the time. But there are other parts involved too. There are parts that want a more stable central core. There are parts that want to learn what might open up in doing sprints – "Why did my teacher ask me to do them in the first place?" Part of me is intrigued even as other parts resist. There are parts of us that want a deeper connection with ourselves that we can learn alongside getting to know our partner better. These more “noble” seeming reasons do not cancel out the power of the more “petty” ones. As a matter of fact, we can use them to help each other.

I’m often saying that all of our parts must be brought to bear to affect the alchemical transformations we are going through. If we try to exclude anything from the process, it ends up undermining our will and our wishes. In including that which resists alongside that which seeks, we generate more power. Therefore, my answer is, do what it takes to show up; bring the vain or lonely part to meet the part that loathes or fears the work and bring all of these to the parts that have already accrued some power or a deeper wish to learn and connect. I sprinted yesterday, and am sure that over time, I’ll figure out a deeper purpose, and that what my teacher is attempting to impart will unfold. Meanwhile, I got to wear my leather trousers out dancing last night.

In magical and spiritual practice we talk, as is stated in the Bhadavad Gita, about being “intent on action, not on the fruits of action.” Results will happen, but there is no way to know what those results will look or feel like. This is committing to the unknown, as Brown puts it. This is gathering all of our parts possible, harnessing life power, and moving, decisively. That’s what I missed in not choosing to be present with my partner in those moments where part of my ego grew impatient and gave up on practice. I missed a chance to access greater life power and fuel my work. Luckily, because I am long used to practice, I noticed, and can now look at this pattern and ask myself what parts of self are still wishing to disconnect rather than connect. I could not do this if I simply tried to suppress or ignore these parts, nor could I do this if I simply let these parts of me run rampant without examination.

This is all a process, an unfolding, a strengthening, and softening. This is how we learn. Connection begins with showing up, where we are, as we are. Every moment is therefore a grand opportunity.

Serendipity is happening all the time. We just need to pay attention.

There have been many occurrences in my life that one could call serendipitous and they only seem to be increasing as of late. Serendipity is an accidental discovery of fortune, (or an accidental, fortunate discovery!) and synchronicity that confluence of events caused by "being in the right place at the right time." But really I think this could be rephrased as "being present in the right place at the right time." Or we could give that first word a capital "B" instead. Being: present in all of one's parts, connected with animal, human, and divine, with time and space, with the energies of life, living fully in the moment. Lo and behold, fortune is in front of us!

A few months ago while buying an airplane book in the Denver airport, I was waiting in line, breathing, doing some practice - not in any hurry, just connecting with breath and center - when the man behind the counter said something like, "It won't be long, ma'am." I felt surprised that he had thought to speak, because my sense was that I had been waiting quietly. I assured him I was in no hurry. After I paid, I took a postcard for Kissing the Limitless out of my bag and quickly put it on the counter, asking if he could help get it in the store. He seemed happy to take it and I went on my way.

Today I got a note from him on Facebook, asking to add me to his list of friends. He only worked at that bookshop for one month - as he put it, "probably so he could get that card" - but has since been spreading the word about Kissing the Limitless to others. You see, among his other talents, he designed this Tarot deck. Turns out we have some interests in common.

Looking back on the event now, my thought is that he assured me it would not be long in order to make a connection of energy and attention with me. Because of that connection, I gave him the postcard. Because of that postcard... who knows what will appear in both our lives? Who knows what wyrd is winding?

Had I not been present in that moment, this delightful little confluence would have passed me by. But it doesn't mean the possibility was not there all along.

Serendipity happens. Good fortune comes to those who pay attention. Are we open?

You don't need to worry about the coming of the New Age. It's just your job to find The Self. Your job is to become truly the universal. It's there. It's within you. You'll feel it. - Joe Miller

What are we waiting for? Each moment is an opportunity to learn. Each moment is an opportunity to teach. Each moment we can ask, "What is my center? What is my boundary? What are the things that make up my life?" And we can choose to pay attention. But do we...?

I worked hard Friday through Monday, with a group of exemplary people. Why exemplary? Because something in them wants to show up to their lives, practice, and growth, and they do it, over and over. They also have exemplary teachers. Why exemplary? Not only do they have deep practice, harness and emit great power, and live in touch with potent teaching, they are aware of their limitations and ask for help when they bump against the edges of their own mastery. Just like I bump up against the edges of my mastery. Just like I need to ask for help.

So we looked together at the formation of will and the rising of desire. Together, we explored our resistance and kept attempting to include all of our parts, only to forget again, and need the prodding of return. Together, we returned to the fabric of love.

Self-acceptance is hard. Not the namby-pamby "well, that's just the way I am" that lets us off the hook, but the diligent seeking, looking, and opening that leads to greater integration, greater power, and greater responsibility (and sometimes greater fear from the parts that wish to squirm away, and not be so big, bright, and beautiful).

LVX asks:Do you seek out the ray of expansion, or cling to the ray of constriction? Do you seek to center or ever wobble at the edges with excuses for why life cannot be otherwise? What is the teaching in your body and your heart? What in you knows both strength and kindness? There is nothing in you that does not know the truth about yourself, even those parts that are afraid.

Lovingkindness is pure power. It centers in the seat of will and radiates from heart, mind, and hands. Lovingkindness walks with a bold stride and sees with a clear eye. We cannot let each other off the hook. Let us continue to bless and respect each other by showing up, fully, as often as we can. Internally, let us bring not peace, but a sword. Let us fight and love toward mastery.

Mastery itself will then bring the stillness that is often read as peace.


[Aeptha, in your beauty, grace, wisdom and power, you show me what it is to be a teacher, even as you learn. May we learn from each other for many years to come.]