THE GOLDEN THREAD ROAD: February 2011

Monday, February 28, 2011

Exhaling

Have I mentioned how intense a winter it's been for me? :) I know I've been saying it a lot, and have probably mentioned it in my blog a few (dozen) times, but, like I recently wrote across my bathroom mirror with a dry-erase marker, "Things are getting better!" That actually always makes me chuckle because one of my favorite lines from one of my favorite movies, The Postman, is when Kevin Costner's character, posing as a postman for a fictitious, rebuilding, post-apocalyptic America, tells a town that the new president (who he tells them has made the Hubert H, Humphrey Metro dome in Minneapolis his new headquarters!) has a motto: "Stuff's getting better!" ...Okay. Maybe it's just me. Anyway, stuff is getting better.

A few months ago, give or take, I had a reading from one of my psychic friends, and she told me that the next few months were going to be intense. Some of what she saw was a Native American spirit guide who kept showing her the image of a spinning Medicine Wheel, and he was aiming an arrow right at the heart of it. Basically what we took from that was there were a lot of lessons coming for me, in a very accelerated manner, but that if I keep my aim true, and not get distracted by all the things spinning around me, I would come through it alright. Sounds reminiscent of what Artemis has been telling me about being the eye of the storm.

Another thing she saw was this spirit guide walking around me, drawing a white circle around me. My friend, not having a lot of experience with Native American symbology, was at a loss for what this meant, but my first thought was that it sounded like a Vision Quest.

It hadn't occurred to me until I just wrote that, but this coincided pretty closely with the beginning of the shamanism class I'd been taking, which in retrospect was sort of a vision quest, or maybe even a sweat lodge in a way. It was basically setting a sacred space, or container, so that within those bounds things could be more intense, like boiling water in a tea kettle. And, boy howdy, did it feel like that sometimes.

So the basic gist of it all was that the following few months would be intense, with a lot of new learnings. Believe me it has been.

Then, two or three weeks ago, feeling particularly exhausted and anxious, I really had been looking forward to spending a Sunday morning, and perhaps a good chunk of the day, in bed. At the same time I felt a very strong pull to attend this weekly Native American pipe ceremony that happens at a local metaphysical store. Okay, I could always take a nap later in the day.

Pipe ceremony was very small that Sunday, which was nice, so we prayed and sang and smoked, and when my turn was over, I passed the chunupa to the next person, and almost involuntarily my eyes closed. There before me was the face of Sitting Bull. It had been almost two years since he first appeared to me at my Vision Quest where he told me that, though he was not an ancestor of blood, he was my ancestor of spirit (a concept I hadn't actually heard of before, until we learned of it in the aforementioned shaman class).

I was again deeply honored by his visitation, and what he told me was, "Your ancestors are very pleased. You have done well. It is time for you now to rest."

Instantly I felt myself relax, and suddenly discovered I could breathe easier than I had for quite some time. At the time I didn't know what had changed, or ended, or what rite of passage I had completed. Despite the fact that my Vision Quest had happened over a single weekend almost two years ago, perhaps it had actually continued through to this point, so that Sitting Bull book ended that experience. Or maybe it was just the end of these previous months of intensity. Or maybe the answer was both/and.

I knew something significant had happened, but whatever it was that found completion, I didn't really care. It just felt good to exhale.

Friday, February 25, 2011

Angels, Guides, and Ancestors

Angels, guides, and ancestors

Please make your presence known

Weave a web around me --

A safe place for me alone.

Fill it with the Beautiful,

The Good, and all that's True,

That I may have a sacred space

From which I may serve you.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

A Brig(it) Over Troubled Waters

Recently, February 2nd to be exact, was the Celtic holiday of Imbolc. Imbolc is Gaelic for "Ewe's Milk" (which is why I always make enjoying some chocolate milk a part of my festivities!) because it denotes the time when the sheep begin to lactate for the new lambs being born -- it is the beginning of Spring. Last year around this time this was brought home to me as I drove home from Eugene, Oregon with my friend Pixie, after attending the Faerieworlds Winter Ball, and the fields all the way to Washington were teaming with ewes and lambs.

With all this new and sprouting life it is also a time of making dedications -- declaring your intent and dedications for the coming year. This year I again renewed my dedication to Artemis, the virgin, huntress Greek Goddess who is the keeper of wild places and things. I have mentioned before (I think...) how, in retrospect, I can see how she has always walked with me, and called to me from the dappled forests of my mind, and I am so grateful that I have finally been able to both acknowledge and answer that call. There aren't words to describe what such a connection feels like -- and even the word "connection" seems wrong because it suggests separation. I feel as though She is part of me, or perhaps it's more correct to say I am part of Her.

On a different level, over the past year or so, I have felt another connection growing. Brigit, the Celtic Goddess of fire and creativity has slowly been easing her way into my consciousness. In a shamanic circle I took part in last year, it seems I was the only one who wasn't connected to Brigit -- at least in the same deep way others were. So in the course of that year I had quite a bit of exposure to her, though I still maintained my solitary dedication to Artemis -- which is actually quite fitting for the Goddess who walks her own path. So, though I liked and admired Brigit, I didn't feel a strong personal connection. Not yet anyway.

The interesting thing that I found out, while doing some research, is that there is actually a big connection between the two -- namely their Totem: Bear. Bear is considered by some to be the original Mother Goddess. I believe some of the earliest artifacts discovered in tombs or with altars were bear skulls. Bear was apparently worshipped for it's ability to remain dead all Winter and be reborn in the Spring. In fact I've heard it theorized that originally it was a bear rather than a ground hog who was watched for on this particular day. Hence Brigit being a Spring Goddess concerned with creativity and fire, as sunlight begins to increase, and with it new life. Artemis is connected in here by being the Goddess of midwives, as well as being known as the 'Light Bringer' -- when you are being born, she is the light at the end of the tunnel.

One of the projects we'd decided on for the circle was that each of us would craft our own Brigit's Cross, a symbol that has become kind of cross-cultural in bridging (pun intended!) Pagan and Christian religions. I think I was probably the last one to make one, which at the time I felt a little bad about, but have since realized how appropriate it was for me to wait until the spark of inspiration struck -- and strike it did!

I can't remember where I was or what I was doing, but this one day, out of the blue, came this full blown image of my Brigit's cross into my head, along with the drive to make it. Now! I swung into the local craft store, that happened to be on the way home, bought some supplies, and within the hour I was holding in my hands what I'd seen in my mind shortly before that:

It just struck me how appropriate peacock feathers were for this, being sort of a patron bird of artists as well as symbolizing creativity and personal expression. What more perfect medium for honoring Brigit.

Shortly after that I went to a weekly Chanupa circle where a deck of Goddess cards was passed around for each of us to pick one from, to see what Goddess was working with us at that time. And I pulled (insert drum roll here) Brigit --

Image from The Goddess Guidance Oracle Cards copyright Doreen Virtue Ph.D

I believe it was a few days later when I was at work, counting out some brass fittings as I pulled an order, when I looked into my hand at the four pieces I'd dropped into my palm, they formed a perfect Brigit's cross! I'm not kidding!

That was the magic number three, at which point I believe, if you don't recognize the pattern unfolding in your life, the spirits pull out the cosmic 2x4. Fortunately I'm a quick study. I readily acknowledged this Goddess of my blood heritage and her efforts to get my attention.

Okay, so maybe I didn't get it right away. What really made it sink in was the fourth encounter. Just before Imbolc I went to a sweat lodge at a friend's property. Because she decided to make it an all women's lodge I wasn't going in, but had instead been asked to be a fire tender -- tending the fire and making sure the stones stay heated while the others are in the lodge.
The significance of being a son of Artemis and filling this role was not lost on me. I stood watch and held space for this group of women as the presence of Artemis, Protector of Women, and witnessed their rebirth from the lodge, the Womb of the Earth, as the presence of Artemis, Midwife. What hadn't occurred to me at first was being the presence of Brigit. ...Fire, duh!

One of the participating women gave me a beautiful, hand-made bracelet as a give-away for being the fire tender. It has amber and other fiery stones on it and I've been wearing it since then as a conscious connection between Brigit and me.

So at Imbolc, though it didn't feel exactly right to dedicate myself directly to Brigit Herself, what I did after re-dedicating to Artemis was to dedicate myself to my creativity under the supervision of Brigit. And my creativity has been sky-rocketing lately. I can not wait to see what new rivers of light these waves of creativity lead me down under Brigit's matronage!

One last bit of synchronicity, that I was not aware of until just a few minutes ago, is that her name comes from "Breo-saighit", a fiery arrow. Another tie to Artemis, Goddess of Archery, and what better Goddess to join the pantheon of a former outlaw of Sherwood?

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

All Good Things...

I have mentioned the class I began in September, the first year of a potential three year program in Shamanism, and though it is only about half over, I have felt guided, rather strongly, to move on. This decision has been weighing on me for some time, more than I think I realized, and I think was very close to the root of why this recent Winter had been particularly challenging for me.

Not that there is anything wrong with the class or the teacher. On the contrary, they are both fantastic and I have learned and grown incredibly since I began. There has just been this persistent feeling that it was not quite a complete fit, for whatever reason, and that has been a huge lesson for me -- to sit with those feelings and gain clarity.

At first I thought I was uncomfortable because it was a new environment I wasn't used to, and I obviously just needed to learn how to adapt and work through those feelings. Acouple months in I was still feeling those uncertainties and was starting to reconsider whether I needed to be there. Then my class went on a retreat in Idaho and things shifted a bit.

First of all, it was an amazing bonding experience for me and I connected with people in ways I really hadn't before. I felt more comfortable with these people than pretty much any group I had been in, and I started to understand what people meant in other groups when they talked about a sense of family. Secondly there was an occurrence that required, and allowed us to see first hand, true advanced shamanism. It was a very humbling experience for me, and I realized how little I knew, and how far I had to go if I wanted to learn it myself. Naturally I figured the best way to learn would be to stay with class, so I continued -- the bonds with my fellow students deepening and the feelings of not-quite-rightness refusing to abate.

Like I said, I was experiencing huge amounts of growth and learning, so obviously, I thought, I needed to be there, and any feelings of discomfort were my own fault and something I just needed to come to terms with. And I enjoyed class, my class-mates, and my teacher, so what the heck?

Then one night, out of the blue, I received a text from a friend, a professional psychic friend, saying she got a message for me about a teacher of mine, she correctly thought the name started with a 'C', and that I had spent a season there, getting everything I needed to, and that it was time to move on. There were other experiences waiting for me.

On one hand I have had enough readings to know that psychics are not gods and that they can mis-hear guidance or be off, either slightly or completely. On the other hand, I hadn't talked to my friend for quite some time, so I hadn't even mentioned the class to her, let alone how long I'd been in it. So I knew enough not to take it as divine intervention and a voice from on high, but there were enough correct things, and it resonated enough with what I'd been feeling, that it got my attention. Perhaps it was time to re-examine my situation.

I got a couple Tarot readings from friends, one not totally confident in her abilities and the other who reads Tarot for a living and has basically been my spiritual counselor for almost 20 years. The interesting thing is that in both readings, with in the scenario of staying in class, the main card that came up was the 5 of cups -- Disappointment, the image of which is a figure looking at three cups, spilled and empty in front of him , while he can not see the two full cups that stand behind him. ...Interesting.

Still, this was all second-hand wisdom from outside sources, and before I made any decisions I really needed to check inside myself. So arose the stock question in all shamanic circles: "Have you journeyed about it?" So that is what I did.

It had been a while since I journeyed, so I began at my Faerieworlds tree and followed the familiar stone, spiral stairway that led down to the underworld beneath it. I greeted Nathaniel, my beloved fuzz-nose of a reindeer, marveling at the realism of this realm. I talk to him all the time in my daily life, and have even felt his nose nuzzle its way into my hand as I'm walking somewhere, but I forget the immediacy, depth, and texture of these otherworlds, where I can reach out and actually touch his antlers or feel my face buried in his thick fur and smell the rich, calming musk of his scent. Yum!

I asked him about my class and he told me my navigation had gotten off track because I was paying more attention to others than myself, but that it was also a necessary side-trip to restore my self-direction. Cool. I wasn't sure that it answered my question, but good answer.

I wanted to check with my Upper World guide, Fred, too in order to get his perspective, so I asked Nathaniel to fly me up there. Seeing as he's one of Santa's reindeer, he can do that. We took off toward the heavens, and I suddenly realized Nathaniel had sprouted wings. Wait a minute! I was no longer on Nathaniel's back, but the back of Meryl, my Pelican guide who is my Guardian of Crossroads. "Oh yeah! I probably should have come to you first, huh?" If it's possible for pelicans to smile, that's what she did.

We landed and she showed me two paths laid out in front of me -- one where I stayed in class, and one where I moved on in a different direction.

Under her direction I headed down the first path, the one where I stayed the course and remained in class. The path became a tunnel, getting increasingly smaller as I felt more and more anxious, tight, and constricted. When I told Meryl how I felt, she replied, "That's fine, but do you see any glimmer a head of you; A light at the end of the tunnel?" "No. It dead ends right here in a wall of rock. I can see where the drill bit was that dug it!"

"Okay," she said in her always calm voice. "Try the other road." As I followed this path I felt lighter and lighter, until I felt I was flying. I was filled with a feeling of relief, like a weight had been lifted. "That's fine," she said again, "But is it an empty relief, like you just dodged a bullet, or is it an empowering relief?" "I definitely feel empowered!" "That is your answer."

When I talked to my teacher about this, she suggested I journey again and find out what the wall was. So back to the Underworld I went.

This time I started out in the Upperworld, in Fred's living room where I asked for his input. I have to admit he isn't always helpful in practical ways. He is very good at giving a bigger picture, and encouragement, and those sorts of things, but all he could really tell me was that it was my choice and that I couldn't take a wrong path. That's when we noticed we were not alone. Meryl was standing there, in the middle of the living room preening herself. "You probably want to talk to her," Fred said with a big grin.

Back to the tunnel Meryl and I went, and once there I started asking about the wall. What was it? Was it a challenge I needed to break through? Was it as simple as it's just not the right direction? "If I need to go through it I will! I'm exhausted, but if it's for my highest good in stepping into and claiming my power I will do it! If this is my path, I know I have what it takes to handle it and I am willing to go through it if that is my lesson!"

"Patrick," Came the soft patient voice, "Your path is 'the water-course' way, and what does water do when it hits a dead end tunnel?"

"Um, it pools then backs up until it comes back out the entrance." "And why would you want to do that?"

"I don't, huh. But if I know it's not a complete fit, and go into it with that perspective, just taking from it what's useful for me, couldn't I stay?"

"You could," She shrugged, "But you would be putting time, money, and energy into something that doesn't totally serve you. Why would you want to do that?" Good question, as it occurred to me that spending my time, money, and energy here could leave me short of those things for those experiences that are more suited for me, and serve me more completely.

"I just want to make sure I'm not taking the easy way out, or running away from anything!"

"Patrick, look around your home and tell me how many birds, and feathers and wings do you see?" I opened my eyes and gazed around at the countless feathers and images of wings, whether of birds or faeries, that bedecked my apartment. "You are a flier not a burrower. That path feels lighter because it is your path. You are following your path, going toward your destiny, not away from your duties."

I breathed a sigh of relief as the truth of it sank in. Go toward the joy. Follow your bliss. It felt right. "But..."

"Everything you need to learn, you will call to yourself. This is not the only source."

I remembered something that Jeshua had told me recently when I asked him what the lesson in all this was. "All roads lead to Rome," was his reply.

And as I sat with what my beloved pelican had said, and it sank deeper and deeper, I was left with one more image: That of sitting astride Nathaniel as he flies through the night sky, my view looking between his antlers at the North star ...MY North star ...Home!

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Enter the Dragon

A week and a half ago in class we did a shamanic journey. Our intent was to meet a power animal and to ask what we could do right now to benefit the world with the changes going on right now.

This journey was a little different than the way I normally journey on my own and it was actually kind of fun. Instead of just one drummer there were, I believe, four, which was incredibly powerful seeing as the drum is the driving engine -- The Wind Horse (I love that term!) that carries you into the shamanic realms. Also, rather than sitting up like I normally do, we journeyed laying down which meant we were in our Spirit Canoes.

So as the drums began beating I set off in my canoe, Jeshua on one side of me and Artemis on the other (Oh My Goddess was she gorgeous!! -- all silvery and sparkly!). I hadn't before used masculine and feminine allies on journeys, but going with my teacher's traditions, that was who showed up when I asked, and I happily realized I couldn't be in better hands. Meryl, my Pelican guide, with whom I've been doing a lot of work lately, sat up front.

It's important when journeying to the other worlds to be anchored in this world, so we use a real-life physical place -- A hole, cave, or hollow tree that we have been to, for example -- from where we travel to the other realms. So I began, as usual, at the tree that stands in the middle of the old Faerieworlds site. Since I was in a canoe, however, instead of the normal spiral stairs leading down to the Underworld, I discovered there was a river running right into the cleft in the side of the tree, and once we entered it, the river went straight down, ala Land of the Lost. Gravity didn't seem to make a difference, though because we didn't fall but just kept paddling down the river as if we were floating horizontally.

Finally we emerged from beneath some overhanging plants, and as we eased down the river the first thing I saw was a cave about half-way up a cliff face. "Oh, a dragon lives there," was my first matter-of-fact thought -- one that I almost instantly rejected, thinking that since that would just be way too cool I must be projecting my wishful thinking onto the journey's background. Still the cave highly resembled, again, the one from the Land of the Lost TV show, and as I looked around I realized the landscape was very jungle-y and prehistoric looking. In fact the first being I saw there was an allosaurus-like dinosaur who came running, chomping his teeth-laden jaws. "Nope! Not talking to you!" I thought, recalling my teacher's earlier comments about not talking to fish with big teeth.

A number of birds made appearances. A kestrel flew over, dropping a ribbon to me as she passed, and a king fisher landed on the side of the canoe and slowly transformed into a flicker before flying off. Then an owl flew down and landed in the canoe, apparently just to say hello because she didn't stay long either. None of them were the power animal I needed to talk to because whoever that animal turned out to be, would appear to me four times, in four different ways, as a signal that he or she were the correct one.

That's when I saw the dragon, up close and personal, his huge nose right up in my face -- a seemingly common way my guides make themselves initially apparent to me. #1. Then I saw him further off, a stick in hand with marshmallows on the end as he breathed fire on them. #2. Next I saw his gigantic head from the side lying in front of me, as if asleep, then watched his eye slowly open and stare at me. #3. Finally, I got a glimpse of Elliot, the dragon from the Disney movie Pete's Dragon, flapping his tiny little wings which miraculously held him aloft. #4.

With the necessary required signals out of the way, I asked the dragon (whose name is "Mike" -- but that's another story) my question of what I could do right now that would be beneficent to the world. "It wouldn't hurt for you to be just a little bit arrogant," came the reply through a toothy grin. He talked to me of stepping into my power, and as he raised himself to his full height, blue and green scales shimmering, he told me of my power of presence -- something my teacher has recently mentioned to me that I'm just starting to realize. The full impact of this monstrous creature standing before me in all it's brilliance and power was truly awe-inspiring, and I realized when you stand in your power and authenticity, there is no hiding. It was akin to the message I got from a reading a few years ago, "You are tall for a reason. You are meant to be seen!"

Mike leaned down toward me again, saying, "Some will fear you for this. Some will love you. But it is all coming from the same place -- awe." Not awe because I'm greater than anyone else, but because the more authentic and in my power I am, the clearer someone looking at me sees the reflection of their own authenticity and power.

In a seemingly change of topic, he told me not to worry about my breath (which reminded me I'd just run out of altoids...), as he unleashed a steady stream of flames onto some nearby stalagmites of the cave we were in. "It can only burn away that which is untrue. The Truth always remains untouched." It took me awhile to process this, and the more I sit with it, the deeper the meanings I find. And I had to laugh (actually almost choked) this morning as I took part in a Chanupa ceremony (Peace Pipe) and realized I was literally breathing fire. Anyway, it basically comes down to expression. It is the natural expression of a dragon to breathe fire, and I do not have to worry about my natural expressions, whether artwork, poems, conversations, or whatever, because if they come from authentic power, though reactions to them may initially be of pain, it is helping to burn away the illusions and cut through the darkness with light. Like it says in the Course In Miracles, "Nothing real can be threatened. Nothing unreal exists."

An interesting connection, and the initial meaning I took away from this, is that I recently have noticed a change of tone or intention when talking to friends about their respective lives and stuff. I sometimes feel like I'm not being very supportive because I'm not just blindly jumping up and down cheering them on, or diving into the depths to join them in their misery -- which is kind of the way the world seems to teach us to be. Instead I'm more thoughtful about whatever it is, and say the things that I am feeling, whatever they are. I am finally stepping into the name the Stone People gave me on my vision quest a little over a year and a half ago -- "Speaks His Heart."

I think it was at this point that I asked for a ride. ...What? ...You know you would have wanted one if in my shoes! Graciously Mike allowed me to crawl up onto his massive neck, and flapping his great wings, we flew into the air. He told me to remember I was at home in all the elements -- I was an Earth being who had the spark of Fire within me, who was equally at home in the sky (Air) as he was in the sea (Water). And at this last bit he dove into the ocean that was sprawling out beneath us.

Back to dry land and it was time to go. I was wondering what I could give him as a gift. Duh! From out of nowhere I handed him a big pot of gold for his dragon horde. Then after scratching him under his fuzzy chin I gave his chest a hug, and I felt his foot tenderly and lovingly settle on my back with a very slight squeeze as he returned the sentiment.

Before I had the chance to return to my canoe for the journey home, I looked up and Mike had taken a scale from his own body, and with a great finger pushed it into my chest. There wasn't time to ask for an explanation before I had to turn back, so I plan on journeying back this week to inquire as to what exactly this gift was that he gave me.

As an addendum, I went to the monthly Jeshua meeting last night (which I have a feeling will be playing a significant role in an upcoming post or two) and what he told me gave me in a single word what this whole journey had been about: Sovereignty.

Sovereignty, thy name is Dragon.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

This Shaman

Okay. So this is just one of those goofy little things I do sometimes when I'm driving or something. I wrote the following filk song (A filk is a song that is written to the tune of one song, but with different lyrics -- think Wierd Al Yankovic!) while on my way to an Imbolc ritual last night...

THIS SHAMAN

(to the tune of This Old Man)

This shaman, he played one

His journey has just begun