sophiaheath

This is the last of the posts that had been waiting.  Thank you for your patience!  Blessings to all!
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We do our daily practices. We strive for mindfulness. We make careful choices, remembering we are gifted with the possibility of choice. We open to our Gods, our allies and guides, our deep and divine selves. And information comes.

 Where does it come from? Is it divinely inspired? Seemingly random thoughts resolve into a solid idea that didn’t exist before; what is its seed? 

 Monday I went to the chiropractor for the first time since a retreat with our teacher, T. Thorn Coyle, in Colorado. The retreat center was stunningly beautiful, a bowl in the Rockies surrounded by snow-caps. Elk and mule deer wandered at will. Chipmunks and ground squirrels poked their heads out of their homes, quick eyes darting, observation their survival. Magpies, elegantly appointed in tuxedo plumage, strutted and flew through thin air alongside the Fey attracted, perhaps, by our shiny selves.

 About three years into our work with Thorn a question came up on our list serve. When we open ourselves and information comes in, how do we know where the information comes from? Is it our own longing? Instinct? Is it truly the “voice of the Gods” or a guide? Or could it be that, by approaching our “true selves”, the work of THIS God, me, as Thorn calls it, the information coming through wears fewer and fewer filters. That we begin to have access to our own deep wisdom. That the voice of the Gods and our voices begin to merge.

 The work of the retreat, as always, brought us closer to that elusive state of self-possession we stalk. My personal work focused on opening my heart to myself, to the world, to my God, guides, teachers and allies. My sometimes aching heart becomes a teacher. Hear the wisdom it holds, heed its messages. 

 The chiropractor is a lovely woman from a multi-generational line of chiropractors. There’s nothing fancy or *new age* about her approach. Yet, she reads and treats both the physical and energetic with ease. She entered the treatment room, looked at me and said,

 “Where have you been? You are radiant, a different person than the one I saw a couple of weeks ago!”

 I thought back to the pivotal day at the retreat; a day that began too early with a disturbing dream and ended well after midnight in an open field, on my knees in drizzling rain, brought there by the pain of my heart opening and the need that turned me to my gods and allies. 

 I prayed. May I be open to the forces that seek to work through me. May I be a channel for this particular power that seeks Earth. May the gods and guardians, all the allies stay close.

 And that night I did open. And open I have stayed.

 Blessed be the ability to ground and open; the courage to ask and listen. May the diligent work of all be blessed.

 Dearest friends,
I find myself in turmoil and despair over the unfolding massive injuries to the ocean, beaches, marshes, and life force of the Gulf Coast.
I wake in fear, and sorrow.
I am wondering if others are interested in working with me over the next few nights, meeting in the ether, sending energy and magick to help with the best possible outcome to the ongoing events.
We could set a time and work, as we have done so often in the past, with the healing energy of our planet.
Anyone else want to join me?  Any auspicious times come to mind?  Astrologers?
Love,

The outpouring was tremendous. Within moments people throughout the community had responded and, with permission, had forwarded it across the globe. Among the responses were several suggestions of spells and prayers. 

 Many prayers and approaches were brought forward during the day, but the piece of spell work that caught my attention was from an animal communicator suggesting that people contact the Deva of the various species affected by the oil slick, asking that they spread the word among their own kind to vacate the area. It was also suggested that we work directly with the Deva of the oil slick itself.

 At the appointed hour I set my space and, along with many others across the globe, traveled into the ethers. I was met with a huge welling up of energies. So many souls seeking to put their minds, hearts, and skill to use for healing, I thought! 

 As for the working itself, each of the beings I invoked came. We shared a libation of clean, clear sparkling waters. And held conversation. Each Deva who came was unique, a tremendous energy force whirling through the space and then off to spread the word. There seemed to be relief that human-kind was paying attention, stretching into skills that help rather than harm. 

 As I prayed, my words took on a sing-song, chant-like quality, “move away…..moooove away…..swim off, fly to other lands, creep along the bottom…..tell your beings, tell your creatures, moooove away….move to safety….moooove away!” Rocking, holding a crystal bowl of clean water aloft, I sang for time uncounted by minutes.

 The Deva of the oil slick was a vortex, grey, surging forward, uncertain of any destination. It felt homeless, fleeing from the site of destruction itself. The suggestion that it reverse direction and return to its home deep within the Earth was met with relief. Yet the momentum was huge, engulfing all that stood between itself and forever. 

 But the call to home was also strong. 

 The following evening I found myself in a new-to-me group of women doing sacred circle dances inspired by the work at the Findhorn Community in northern Scotland. Toward the end of the evening, as my mind strayed back to working with the Deva of the oil slick, we did a dance of dipping into the Well of the Sacred and bringing back that which we found and sending it out into the world. That dance was dedicated to working with the oil slick.

The walls of the room melted. Many, many beings danced on a beach surrounded with multitudes of sparkling lights; the Fey beings working along side of us, say some. Clearly, we are not alone working towards the healing of our beloved planet. We are never alone. And, it is clear that the planet Herself chooses to be healed. Our efforts are welcome.

 The well is deep, never-ending. Possibility is inexhaustible. Join us. Dip in and pray.

My Friends and Readers.....
I have not posted for some time due toa glitch in mynew computer that requires I re-type every entry befor posting! As this is onerous to me, I have appeared to be silent.  Actually, I have been writing posts and now, thanks to my beloved's suggestion, am posting through her computer!  Here are several posts that have been waiting!

Blessed Be!
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When the kids were young this was a day when they planned, worked, and plotted to make Mother's Day an especially loving day. The thought was well intentioned and frequently met the mark. Many Mothers wake this morning to coffee in bed or flowers, brunches or dinner *out*, and the like. One especially lovely year early on, I was waitressing at a local Inn. When I got home, my gift was a new garden they had dug for me, what I most wanted. All I needed to do was smooth the soil and plant! I was moved to tears by this show of love.

Now the kids are grown and a phone call serves. Love shines in so many ways.

Today we honour Mother’s Day as we have for the past several years, by standing in silent vigil with Women in Black, focused on an intention of the day older than Hallmark and ecards. For it is actually a day calling for the end of war. 

 In 1870 Julia Ward Howe, a feminist and pacifist, addressing women in the aftermath of the American Civil and Franco-Prussian war, wrote this call for peace. Her belief was that women, as the Mothers of Life, have both the ability and responsibility to hold other humans accountable for their actions. 

 May all mothers remember this calling. May we bring our considerable power to bear in the minds all. May this call for peace echo throughout time and space.

 Arise, then, women of this day!

Arise, all women who have hearts,
Whether our baptism be of water or of tears!

Say firmly:
"We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies,
Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause.
Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn
All that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.
We, the women of one country, will be too tender of those of another country
To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs."

From the bosom of the devastated Earth a voice goes up with our own.
It says: "Disarm! Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice."
Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor violence indicate possession.
As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil at the summons of war,
Let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel.

Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead.
Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means
Whereby the great human family can live in peace,
Each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar,
But of God.

In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask
That a general congress of women without limit of nationality
May be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient
And at the earliest period consistent with its objects,
To promote the alliance of the different nationalities,
The amicable settlement of international questions,
The great and general interests of peace.

So Mote It Be!

Because I am embarking on a new chapter in my life, I find myself continually entering new situations. The trappings of my former life are peeled away and I am “the new kid on the block” over and over again. It has been more that 25 years since this was true, but it gives me the opportunity to look at the ways I enter. 

 Many years ago, when Lesley University was still Lesley College, I did graduate work in counseling. One course that stands out was Group Dynamics.   Structured to divide us into sub-groups, for 2/3 of each session we met as our own group. The remaining 1/3 of the time we processed the dynamics the various groups encountered. I, of course, joined the leaderless women’s consciousness-raising group. We were the cutting edge of Feminism, and we reveled in our power. Many bits and pieces of that course stayed with me but, over the years, the day all of the groups practiced Entering has been the most powerful experience of all. Here’s how it went…..

 We formed the circle. Each person took a turn leaving the room for, maybe 5 minutes, and then came back in and rejoined the group as though they were new to it. While they were out of the room, those who remained began a topic of conversation that was interrupted by the entry of the “new” person.

 Some of us burst into the room, opening the circle and jumping right in. Sometimes it was welcome; sometimes it was disruptive. Some entered slowly, checking out the scene before settling into their space. Still others found it hard to step into a place, even if the circle moved aside and opened up for them. Some were demanding; others were meek. We all learned a lot about ourselves. But we also learned how easily the group changes, how each change makes it new. It was a profound experience. 

 In my new life here in Canada, I find myself entering established groups for the first time again and again. On each occasion a corner of my mind touches back to that course. And I give myself the gift of personal space. I take a breath and consider, how will I enter? Is this a group that will easily welcome my skills and tools? Is there some underlying dynamic to throw off balance? Sometimes I find myself waiting and watching the group unfold around me, selecting when to be visible, when to fade. Other times I step up with my skills and tools at the ready. 

 The treasured memory and teachings of Group Dynamics offers me the gift of choosing how I present myself from moment to moment, always knowing who I am and what I bring. 

 Each of us holds the possibility of gifting ourselves with this awareness. What will you enter today? How will you show up for it?

"This is the Balancing Time/dark meets light/all that you need/and all you desire/come tonight!" Chant shared by Beth Carlson, Great Barrington, MA.

 This chant appeared in my mind last Saturday, Spring Equinox, standing with Women in Black* in silent vigil, honoring the Turning of the Wheel. A small but intrepid group, we used to stand weekly, always in the same place at the same time. Now we pop up all over town, honoring the occasions that call to us. People seem to enjoy our random appearances supporting us with horn honking and waving, asking questions, taking pamphlets.

Thoughts of balance have been rolling around in my mind lately. A visiting Tai Chi instructor calls attention to balance as we move through the set, “step up, balance; reach out, balance; lift up, balance….”. I call upon balance during the day remembering to take breaks from work in order to play, returning to work from the breaks; balancing sedentary tasks with active ones; being outside with being indoors.

 The time of year calls to me, what is balance? What tips it one-way or the other? During walking meditation, like in Tai Chi, the attention is focused on each piece of the movement: lifting the foot; moving the foot; placing the foot; (and, finally) shifting the balance. Highlighting the minute parts of change, it is an apt metaphor for life. 

 But I struggle to make the metaphor real and bring their teaching into my daily life. My mind wants to run away, it wants to play and be lazy, it wants to read novels and make up stories, it wants to run by the river, but not the river down the street, the river as I wish I remembered it, a river of fantasy. Oh, my mind could dream all day long and never tire of it. My mind rebels against the discipline my adult self longs for. And how they struggle with each other!

 Balance, I caution them, when I take the time to notice and breathe into their struggle. There is time and space for you both. Time to wish and time to act. Yes, this IS the season of balance. 

 Blessings of Balance to us all. 

*Women in Black is an international movement started in 1987 when a group of Palestinian and Israeli women stood in silent vigil outside peace talks in Tel Aviv. Now groups stand all over the world in vigil for peace and/or local issues.

I wont complain or whine, although I am sorely tempted. I will attempt to describe the past three or so weeks. You be the judge!

Maybe a month ago my aged computer slowed from a crawl to a snail’s pace. I called my friendly neighborhood computer fix-it guy who had sold me this previously reliable reconditioned workhorse four or five years ago. I brought it down to his basement repair shop and as he tinkered with it, his connection arrived.

 Seriously, as I waited, chatting, a man walked in with several new computers tucked under his arm. Again and again this man appeared with armloads of new computers still in their boxes. These new computers were available. I went home and thought about it. But not for too long as my computer again slowed by degrees. 

 I went back and bought one of the shiny new computers, that came with the new Windows 7 operating system. Feeling excited and courageous I took it home and named it Lenne, short for its brand name, Lenovo.

 And then new friendly neighborhood computer guy went to the Dominican for two weeks.

Lenne hasn’t turned out as expected. But I kept at it, sorting out the new Windows 7 system, so much better than Vista, I hear. I was feeling pretty good about myself, braving the interminable phone tree to reach a human on the other side of the globe, trouble shooters for the manufacturer who talked me through registration and a couple of simple fix-its. A few days and a few malfunctions later, in desperation, I called my computer guy’s voice mail. His vacation was longer than I had thought!  But he did leave the name of an emergency fix-it guy.

A lifeline, I thought, and picked up the phone. 

 The new computer fix-it guy came to the house after only 3 calls. This was a good sign. He fixed some of the annoying bits and pieces, but the window that kept flashing, “This version of Windows may be counterfeit!” he left alone. “Perhaps it’s a virus”, he muttered under his breath aand fled.

 Now Lenne is down completely having exhausted its ability, and mine, to continue showing up in the face of what, a virus….. Perhaps! My regular computer fix-it guy will be back, tanned and relaxed next week. And my computer and I will be waiting on his doorstep. Gratitude to my partner for the part-time use of her computer to deal with emergencies!

 It is my intention to give voice to the many Soundings that have been running around my brain for the past several weeks. Please do not give up hope. Soundings of my Heart shall return, soon…..