Coyote

Free Bing photos

Free Bing photos

Early, before the sun is up. Breakfast half eaten against the back drop of autos heading into the city. I hear them yelping between the motors in the nearby field. The night was cold for summer, giving rise for them to howl for autumn.

I am pressed and clean for the day ahead, but their barks call to my wildness beneath the suit. All these routines and order, economies, mortgages and regulations. I stand at the window and listen. My heart beats faster with the next call and I realize it is not order I am hungry for, but the feel of dirt and the grass beneath my feet. To run and howl with abandon with my kin.

Alas, a deep final breath at the sill, as I turn from the window, checking my coyote spirit as I head for the door.

True Power

Sunset storm over the Rockies: Photos by Noelle

Sunset storm over the Rockies: Photos by Noelle

“If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment.” Marcus Aurelius

Sunset storm over the Rockies: Photos by Noelle

Sunset storm over the Rockies: Photos by Noelle

Intuition

Sunset on Mt. Falcon: Photo by Noelle

Sunset on Mt. Falcon: Photo by Noelle

“What I am actually saying is that we need to be willing to let our intuition guide us, and then be willing to follow that guidance directly and fearlessly.” Shakti Gawain

Play

Algae at Johnston Lake: Photo by Noelle

Algae at Johnston Lake: Photo by Noelle

“The creation of something new is not accomplished by the intellect but by the play instinct acting from inner necessity. The creative mind plays with the objects it loves.” – Carl Jung

Story of Mud II

Mud at Dutch Creek Farm: Photo by Noelle

Mud at Dutch Creek Farm: Photo by Noelle

My love of mud continues. I think of it much like water. It begins slick and wet and molding into anything it touches. Later, it dries into cracked patterns and curious shapes, all affected by light and time of day. Something in my spirit finds this immensely appealing.

Growing Waking Up

Reposted from Meditation Masters Facebook page

Reposted from Meditation Masters Facebook page

When I was married, I was asleep
This was no fault of my husband’s
I was waiting for my life
I blamed this on my husband
Wisely, he ignored me
So I stewed
Small things like paint and paper
Make a big difference
Glue and art classes
Masterpieces on walls
Plaster and glass
I saw a path and it grew
Which led to my divorce
And my friendship with my
Ex-husband
Sometimes goodness comes
Not from demanding something
Be something else
But rather awakening to what is
Really feeling and touching its
Roots

This is how you grow, waking up

End of the Day

Bear Creek Lake: Photo by Noelle

Bear Creek Lake: Photo by Noelle

Bear Creek Lake: Photo by Noelle

Bear Creek Lake: Photo by Noelle

Bear Creek Lake: Photo by Noelle

Bear Creek Lake: Photo by Noelle

And the end of the day was upon me, yet still I waited in the field. So many moments allowed to pass without reverence or awe. What life have I been living, to have slept so long?

Not Alone

From the Spirit Science Facebook page

From the Spirit Science Facebook page

This morning I awoke with a phrase running through my mind. It sounded as if I were leaving a dream and whoever I was talking to was leaving me with a parting thought.

“You are not alone.”

It wasn’t a creepy X-Files phrase, but rather warm and comforting. It continued to roll through my mind as I got ready for work.

“You are not alone.”

When I was in college I had the typical nonsensical conversations most twenty-something’s, experimenting with various mind-altering drugs have. You get high and ponder UFO’s, out of body experiences and whether your dead grandparents have seen you having sex. Stupid stuff that left you laughing for hours. The idea of “not alone” in such states could almost seem mystical, but never to be recaptured once back down to earth.

As I brushed my teeth, I pondered this idea again.

“You are not alone.”

Yes, thirty years later and deeply sober, the feeling is as mystical and magical today, as it was then. I giggled and spit toothpaste down my chin. Such are the actions of all great revelations. The inducement of laughter and wonderment, at our connection to all things.

“You are not alone.”

Gate

Gate on the Payne Farm Trail:  Photo by Noelle

Gate on the Payne Farm Trail: Photo by Noelle

There it was in the middle of the thicket. White and chained shut. Very little to say where it lead, as there appeared to be no road into the briar. It seemed a gate in the middle of nowhere and that is how the first spark flew burning my regular life. What is it to live, if you never climb unknown fences and see where they lead?

Bench to Nowhere

Greenway trail at Nathan Mott Park, Block Island: Photo by Noelle

Greenway trail at Nathan Mott Park, Block Island: Photo by Noelle

I was hiking a trail at the Nathan Mott Park while vacationing on Block Island; a small island off the coast of Rhode Island. The trail was well maintained, but heavily wooded. No clear cutting or control burns have ever happened there. Thus, the bramble was thick and dense. Suddenly, I stumbled upon a bench, sitting in the middle of the trail, about half way in. It faced the bramble, with no apparent other view.

I stopped and looked around. It seemed an odd place to have a seat. I thought to continue my journey, but something about how the sun rested upon the seat called to me. I sat down. I was correct there was no other view, but the dense thicket. I decided to give it some time.

Wildlife knows when hikers have hit a trail. Alert calls go out to any who can hear to beware, a human is afoot. If you are lacking a quiet presence when you step into nature, you aren’t likely to have many unusual encounters with wildlife. Sit for a time though, and wood life begins to forget you are there and marches onward.

Deer flies lost interest and continued down the path. Bees returned to the wild rose and thistle. The alarming squawking that had followed me from crow to jay, had subsided and now the wood was filled with bird’s singing their daily stories of berries and dragonflies. Rather than the stir of my own progress I now heard the steady movement of the wind through the trees. The sun came and went as it winked between the branches above. The moment was peaceful without the least bit of silence.

When I was younger I did not understand the power of stillness or the value of doing nothing or going nowhere. That stillness is full and rich, rather than dull and silent, as my youthful mind considered. I don’t know who thought to put the bench in the middle of the trail, but I suspect they were someone like me. Someone who had come to appreciate that sitting in the middle of nowhere, looking at nothing in particular, is likely the best seat there is.