2012 -- Year of the Cormorant

So much has happened in my life in 2011, accelerating particularly during the latter half of the year, and I'm feeling poised on a launch pad of sorts waiting for things to really take off. And something keeps telling me, "THIS is the year!" 

New Year's Eve, and I found myself extremely restless.  I had to get out of my apartment and found myself at the nearby park, looking over the still waters of Clark Lake at Grandmother Moon, and speaking to Her of all the things I had to be grateful for over the past year...

• I have published some of my comics through an online publisher
• I was able to strengthen my path by taking courses from a couple of shamanic teachers whom I've admired for a very long time
• In one aforementioned course I learned Soul Retrieval, which, besides making me feel like an "official" Shamanic Practitioner, allowed me to witness and experience amazing results in people's lives
• Another course allowed me to expand my horizons by arranging my own flight and accommodations, which were not only not to Minnesota to visit family, but were to a state and city I'd never been to before
• In the aforementioned course I met someone who could very well be the love of my life
• After the aforementioned course I was accepted into Sandra Ingerman's Two Year Teachers Training program
• I taught my first Shamanic class

...just to mention a few.

A couple weeks prior, realizing all the growth I'd been through and the significance of the possibilities of all the things to come that perched somewhere on my horizon, I recognized the timing was right for a rite of passage for cleansing and releasing the past in order to move uninhibitedly into the coming year.  Enter a sweat lodge ceremony at a magickal place I knew of on Bainbridge Island in Puget Sound. It had been a while since I'd been in a sweat lodge, but I found myself excited, and a bit nervous, at the prospect of such a perfect ritual with such perfect timing.  Even as we were taking our turns touching our heads to the ground at the door of the lodge with a prayer, "Aho Matakwiasin, All My Relations," and crawling into our places in this womb of the earth, I was nervous and excited. 

It is an amazing thing to sit in the semi-dark with like-minded folks in the trust and innocence of nakedness as the glowing stones are passed through the small door into the pit at the center of the lodge, the kiss of sweet grass and lavender upon the stones tingeing the air with invigorating and soothing scents, before the door is closed, leaving us in total darkness aside from the stone people's soft, orange glow.  Then the water sings on the heated surfaces with a woosh of billowing steam a mere moment before the wave of heat hits my body, and I breathe the hot dampness through my mouth all the way into my lungs, realizing that sweat is pouring out of my every pore.  My hands dig into the coolness of the earth to balance the heat, and I roar, and cry, and sing, the river of sweat carrying from me all that needs to be released to make room for the blessings and promises of the new year.

After two of the four rounds I check with my guides and, feeling my time inside the lodge is complete, I leave, again pausing at the door to touch my forehead to the earth and whisper a prayer to All My Relations. Then, after the exhiliration and freedom of literally running naked through the woods, I put on a robe and take a place next to fire where the lodge stones are being heated, feeling cleaned out and content.

Once the the lodge is finished and everyone is in various states of getting dressed and gathering their things, I head up to the main house where we will share a pot luck meal, and stepping out of the meadow into the trees, am struck by the pure enchantment of the woodland path being lit by the half-full moon.  That took my breath away even more than the lodge itself did.

Once home, one of the first things I reach for is a book on Animal Spirit Guides.  On my way across the Sound that morning, standing on the bow of the ferry, a movement caught my eye, and I watched a cormorant sail in a graceful arc right in front of the boat, just inches above the water.  First animal guide of the year! I wonder if it will set the tone of 2012 for me. The full significance of this didn't strike me, though, until I opened the book to find out what Cormorant medicine was. 

Aside from the lesson I'm already aware of, and taking care of, of taking breaks for myself between work and projects (cormorants are famous for standing in the sun after fishing in order for their outstretched wings to dry), the main power this bird brings is the ability to reach and attain seemingly impossible dreams...

...THIS is the year!

Love Me Tender

A few weekends ago I had the opportunity to act as a fire tender for a sweat lodge my friend was pouring. For those who are not familiar with lodges, the Pourer is the person who pours the water on the hot stones after they've been placed in the lodge and the door has been closed. The Fire Tender is the one (or more persons) who starts and tends the fire that heats the stones, then puts the stones into the lodge at the beginning of each of the four 'rounds.'

Anyway, my friend has been doing a series of lodges as she becomes more confident in her abilities to pour -- which entails a lot more than just splashing water on hot rocks! -- and I've been helping with the fire. The funny thing is that for awhile I'd been getting guidance not to go into the lodges, hence staying on the outside to help with the fire. Then a couple lodges ago, when I decided I would go in, my friend got the guidance that they would be women's lodges. Hence my still being on the outside with the fire.

This time, however, was the first time I was in charge of the tending rather than just helping out. I guess I lost my 'tender foot' status for being fire tender (hee-hee! Sorry... Boy Scout humor.).

The lodge itself was on a Sunday and, seeing as I was reading Medicine Cards at a book store that was more than half way to my friend's property that Saturday, I just headed up and stayed over the night before. Another friend was already there, and I instantly knew this was going to be an interesting lodge because she could not stop laughing. Coyote, the Native Americans' trickster spirit, is very much present at these particular lodges, and judging by my friend's, very contagious, state I could tell that Coyote had arrived early.

The next day our spirits were generally similar, and I couldn't stop punning. I also couldn't stop singing. Any thing anyone said would elicit a song rising from my lips -- Everything from Captain & Tennille and The Carpenters to Johnny Cash ("Love is a burning thing/And it makes a fiery ring..."). It was a Sweat La-la-lodge!

Silliness aside, it was a very good learning experience in listening to my intuition, as well as to the spirits who were co-creating this ceremony with us. Going to the wood pile, I listened to see which of the spirits of the logs wished to be part of this event, particularly the eight flat logs that form a table at the base of the the impending flamage, where the stones (in this case 30 of them) get stacked up to have the fire built around them. And helping to pick which stones from the rock pile, I got to listen to which stone spirits were basically jumping up and down going, "Me! Me! Me! Me!"

And in actually stacking the stones it takes a lot of listening and paying attention, but as I held each stone I had gathered, I knew exactly where to place it. It was remarkable to me that we were stacking 30 lava rocks, each at least the size of a cantaloupe, yet had no trouble keeping the growing mound from tumbling. Next came a row of smaller logs standing on end and encircling the aforementioned mound, with a mix of smaller kindling and paper, and a final row of small logs on top of the bottom row which formed the roof of our wooden dome -- all done with mindfulness and with awareness of the beings I was working with. I asked permission of every log I placed around the stones, and interestingly enough, the answer was not always, "Yes."

So flash forward to the roaring fire. While the others are off making their prayer ties and changing into their lodge clothes, I stand my post, nudging the fire here, adding a log there -- but only after asking permission. "Can I put another log on?" "Not yet."

As a kid we used to camp, pretty much every weekend in the summer time, and we always had a fire. Most of the time I was the one making it and then my entire family would sit around, each of us with our own personal 'poking stick,' and we would take turns poking the fire -- so I learned at an early age the interplay and dance between fire, air, and wood. And now as I listened to the fire spirits, I realized I'd always heard them. I was doing the same thing as I always did -- watching the fire and suddenly getting an intuitive tug, "Oh, a log in that position would be good" or "That log needs to be stood upright to allow more air flow" -- like fitting pieces of a puzzle together and the feeling of completion when something finds its rightful place. And there were times I couldn't help laughing because, as soon as I would jockey the wood around, the wind would always pick up, as if someone had just worked the bellows to breathe new life into the embers.

And when the time to begin the lodge drew near, the stones literally began rolling out of the fire, as if to say, "Okay! We're ready! Let's get this show on the road!" And, on the other hand, when it became time to carry the stones into the lodge, there were certain stones that, no matter how much I tried, refused to stay on the pitchfork -- some of them actually rolling back into the fire. "I'm not ready yet!"

As with most things, it is not the major light show that most people might expect or desire, but it really is that small, still voice within. A voice so subtle it is easy to miss, and which takes a lot of practice to hear again after having it trained out of us.

When the lodge was complete, and we had finished the potluck feast that followed, I was sitting on the couch opposite of where my friend was sitting, and she suddenly looked at me and asked, "Did you burn a hole in your jeans?!" I looked and didn't see anything until she pointed down to the bottom of my pant leg. "Holy crap!"

There was a perfectly round hole burned through my jeans! I hadn't felt a thing, and the boots I had worn underneath bore no marks. Yet I had been unmistakably branded. I just smiled and thanked Brigit, the Celtic fire goddess under whose tutelage I currently find myself, because I took it as a badge of honor. A kiss of the Fire spirits. I had passed my initian, been accepted, and was now officially a fire tender.

Tomorrow I will tend fire again for a lodge my friend will pour, but just as I feel I'm getting the swing of things, I'm being moved beyond my comfort zones. This time we'll be at a lodge I've never been to, with some people I've never met and who have been brought up with the particulars of certain traditions. Yoiks! There will, however, be many friends there as well, and my focus will be supporting my friend in her first pouring outside her own lodge, as well as supporting another friend who will be sweating in preparation of her up coming vision quest.

As long as I remember that, and not worry about doing right or wrong in other peoples' eyes, I'll be fine. Well, actually I'll be fine no matter what happens. :)

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?

A Pair of Sweats

This past weekend for my Shaman Class we went on a "Dream Retreat." As part of the weekend, Friday night (or actually Saturday morning) they offered an optional sweat lodge. Of course most of the people jumped at the chance and, in fact there were so many of us there that they actually did 3 lodges that night, the last one going in around 3:30 in the morning.

Anyway, for the second time in just over a week I chose not to take part in an opportunity to sweat. Both times were kind of soul-searching moments for me, and though I wrestled with it, doubted myself, and almost went against it, I finally ended up following my guidance to not participate. It was a bit confusing as I wondered why wouldn't it be good for me to do a sweat lodge? I've done them before and they are very healing and very sacred -- so what was the problem, especially since White Buffalo Calf Woman, the one who brought these ceremonies to the people, has become almost a personal guide and adoptive Mother to me?

In both cases I was given this interesting vision where I saw the lodge, and I watched my path unfold nearby, but not through, the lodge. I kept hearing, "It's not your path."

The first one was easy enough to let go of, partially because I was able to fill in as a fire tender and so still take an active part in the ceremony. I also knew this second lodge was coming up and I assumed I'd do that one, especially since it was part of the retreat. I still felt slightly embarrassed at the first one, and timidly asked the woman pouring the lodge (the one who runs the lodge and 'pours' the water on the heated rocks) if it were okay for me to stay outside, as if I needed permission. I'm still learning that following my guidance is enough of a reason not to do something, no matter what others may think -- which may actually be the main reason I was guided not to go into either lodge: To listen to my own guidance over the opinion of others. Spiritual peer-pressure is an interesting thing.

I did get my second chance about a week later, but as excited as I was for the retreat, my heart chakra was very closed -- to the point of being painful. For some reason every time I thought of the lodge, my chest would tighten, and having been raised in this particular society, I assumed it meant that it was something I had to do to overcome my feelings about, and just push through it for my own good. But the closer we got to lodge time, the tighter my chest got, and the more clouded my mind became. Then, on the example of my teacher and some TAs, I just sat quietly and asked my heart 3 times what was right for me. The 3 times eventually became probably 300, but every time I asked, I would see that same vision of my path bypassing the sweat lodge. The thought of going inside made me feel tight and anxious while the thought of abstaining felt light and freeing.

As I finally, tentatively, made the decision to pass on the experience, I began to feel more myself again, as my self-confidence returned along with a clearer head. "Interesting..." I thought. Martha Beck talks about the "shackles on and shackles off" response -- how certain things make you feel free and others are restrictive, and how that really is the basics of listening to your intuition. So I had my answer. Easy enough. Sometimes things are difficult because it means you're going the wrong way and need to change direction, duh!! The tricky part would be to stick by my answer despite what others may think.

I actually had nothing to worry about, and the few people I told about my decision were supportive, even if they didn't understand. Even my dear friend, who is taking this program with me, and who really wanted me to go into lodge with her. Still I was very self-conscious about it and kept my decision mostly to myself, and just curled up deeper into my sleeping bag when the group I would have been in, went into lodge at 3:30am. Fleeting thoughts and doubts flew through my mind on my motivations, my fear being that it was fear holding me back. But then I fell asleep.

The next day my friend came to me and told me I had been in lodge. "Really?" I asked rather surprised. She said yes, and told me how she'd seen and felt my presence there very strongly, like I was helping watch over and hold space for everyone there. I laughed because that had been my intention as I'd fallen asleep, thinking about the circle of women outside who were on their moon-time, and thus being considered to be too powerful to be in lodge, who were acting as the visionaries for the lodges. I actually felt more drawn to, and comfortable, with that role rather than being inside, and had even joked to my friend earlier that maybe I was just on my period.

My friend admitted to me about being disappointed at my physical absence from the lodge, but said that when she inquired to her guides, they told her, "It's not his path." I was dumbstruck for a moment and then threw my arms around my friend, whispering, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Then I told her about my vision, and the exact words I had heard from my guides. Up to that point I had still been a bit unsure of myself, but you can't get much clearer validation than that!

Later I talked to one of the people who were in charge of the lodges and mentioned that I hadn't gone in. The response was interesting, and I recognized it as the one I'd expected all along --The feeling that I'd skipped the lodge out of fear. Now with the solid validity of my experience, it didn't phase me -- "Ah, we'll getcha' sooner or later. Ya can't run forever!"

No Sweat

I have done a couple of sweat lodges, both of which were very powerful for me, so when my friend decided to do one for New Year's Eve, I was very surprised not to be excited about it. Normally I would jump at the chance, especially on New Year's Eve! How better to prepare for the new year than to release the old by litterally sweating it out? Still I just kept feeling I wasn't going to take part, atleast inside. My friend totally honored my feelings, suggesting I be a fire tender instead. The image of standing alone by a blazing fire, in sacred space beneath the full blue moon, while others sang, prayed, and sweated nearby appealed to and lit a spark in me. How symbolic as I birth my own light! I felt extremely ready for this job, having spent a vast amount of hours building fires and poking at them with my dad on our family campouts as a boy.

As with most things, I didn't realize the full significance of things until after the event. In fact some have only now occurred to me as I write this. There I was under the watchful eye and guidance of Artemis, Goddess of the moon and of childbirth (and my personal Matron Goddess), tending the fire and standing watch, ready to help others who lay in the womb of the Earth preparing to be born again. Unwittingly I was following in Her footsteps. Wow!


Anyway, accepting the fire tender duties resolved my feelings of confusion, and I excitedly looked forward to this new honor. Of course I was expecting a nice quiet leisurely night of standing around, poking at the fire and gazing lovingly at the moon. ...That's not how it works.


We started preparing the lodge and getting ready for the ceremony. As we were choosing the Grandfater stones that we would heat in the fire then place in the lodge, thunder boomed through the air. My friend stopped. "Is that what I thought it was?" Again a booming rolled and resounded through the sky. The Thunder Beings had arrived, gracing us with their presence and witnessing our lodge. "Watch what you say," my friend reiterated what she'd told us earlier. "They're listening and anything you ask for, or challenge them with, you will face." "Have you got a gag I could borrow?" I replied, smiling, fully aware of the influence Coyote, the Trickster in Native American mythology, sometimes has over me.


We started stacking the 30 Grandfathers, and despite working with the 'bones of the Earth' I found myself very ungrounded, to the point of stumbling and tripping over things in the dark. Not surprisingly, our first attempt toppled and we had to start over. My friend reminded us "Listen to the stones. They will tell you where they go." We began building again, and I found as I quieted myself and picked up each stone, I would see where it would fit on our growing stack. The second attempt stood. We lit the fire from the four directions, then let it burn for a few hours, allowing the lava rocks to heat to the point of glowing.


Finally we were ready to start, so one by one everybody turned to the four directions, knelt down, and crawled into the lodge. That's when my job became more active, and I was surprised at how winded I got, digging 10 stones out of the fire, balancing them on a pitchfork as I carried them, first to get the ashes brushed off, then to the sweat lodge where I slid them, still on the pitch fork, on the ground and deposited them in the pit that was dug into the middle of the lodge. They were big and heavy and literally red hot, and it was with a sigh of relief that I sat down outside after closing the door flap of the lodge. A lot more work than I thought!
I walked around the fire, feeling like a mother alligator burying her eggs and keeping them protected and warm, as I swept burning wood and coals over the stones, now strewn around the sacred fire. I paused a number of times to look up at Grandmother Moon shining brilliantly down upon me, and I whispered a prayer of thanks to Pan, Greek god of Nature, for answering my request for a clear night. There were still sprinkles here and there but for the most part it was perfect.


In the lane between the fire and the lodge was a small altar, and part of my job was to keep the candle on it lit. This proved impossible under the branches of the hazel trees that shelter the lodge, for they continued to drip water even if it weren't raining. After burning my finger on my last attempt to light the candle, I looked up at the moon, framed beautifully in the dark lines of the branches, and realized She was providing the light for the altar tonight. I smiled and sat back at my post outside the door of the lodge. Then, even though I wasn't sweating with everyone else, I began my own cleansing. Tears began to fall.


Toward the end of the third round of adding new stones and closing the door, one of the participants said he needed to get out. This is not uncommon as this is a very intense experience that pushes people to their limits. Anyone is allowed out at anytime they feel it neccessary. However, this person, as he arrived at the opening of the lodge, passed out.

It was interesting where my mind went at that point. Still feeling rather ungrounded, all my fears lept to the forefront of my brain. Granted, I've never been around someone when they pass out, so that was unnerving in itself. But as we helped him come around, got him to the fire and retrieved some water for him to drink, my thoughts kept ranging back and forth, rooting up old doubts and fears, mostly about "what if none of this is real and someone nearly died?" The funny thing is that earlier that day I had been talking to another friend about my vision quest, saying one of the biggest things that came out of that experience was the realization that I could no longer pretend these things were not real. I do hear my spirit guides speaking to me. I do tune into the feelings of others. I do talk to animals, particularly, it seems, dead ones. But here I was questioning again.

The ceremony continued it's 4th and last round uneventfully, but I was feeling pretty shaken. I did start feeling better, even to the point of joking and laughing, as we returned to the house afterwards and ate a bit of food, despite it now being 2am. The man who had passed out was recovering, which did wonders for my mood. Still the little doubts and questions persisted, and were still present when I awoke the next morning. "Where is this coming from?" I kept asking myself. "I've already dealt with this crap. I've been through this before. Why is it coming up again?" I walked into my friend's bathroom, my head still wrangling with these thoughts.


All it took was a moment to regain my balance and groundedness. I looked up and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar flash of light. It was a faery.


"Okay! It is all real!" :)


NOTE: I should state that the man who passed out did not nearly die. That was just one of the fear thoughts running around in my brain.