I didn't grow up in a church community, though I had a brief love affair with the ritual I found in an Episcopal church in Oregon in my twenties. My legitimate quest to create a spiritual practice was birthed in middle age by borrowing from the Buddhist practice of mindfulness, and the strong connection I felt for the worship of the Earth as taught us by our first nations. In Native American cultures The Great Spirit is a deity intertwined with the fabric of the Universe and the web of the life on Earth. It wasn't until recent years I discovered my Wiccan roots and the pre-Christian possibility that my ancestors were Earth worshippers. When I started this journey I worried because I didn’t know how to pray. Turns out we all know how to pray through our love of and gratitude for the gifts of life. This vault is for those who, like me, hunger for a spiritual practice and are learning to braid their own.

Wednesday, February 17, 2016

Grateful for all my brothers and sisters


I listen to the slugs, I hear them sing, I hear them sing.
I listen to the slugs, I hear them sing, I hear them sing.
The slugs are my sisters, the slugs are my brothers.
We sing together and we sing to each other.
I listen to the slugs, I hear them sing, I hear them sing.


Slugs break down organic matter, which is important for recycling nutrients like nitrogen through the food chain. They are a good source of protein for snakes, salamanders, toads, frogs, badgers, hedgehogs, moles, shrews, porcupines, foxes, raccoons, beetles and various birds, such as owls, robins, blackbirds, thrushes, starlings, seagulls, jays, ducks, geese, chickens and crows. 




Friday, January 8, 2016

Mitakuye Oyasin


Mitakuye Oyasin (Mutawkwey Ahsun) is a Lakota term that reflects a world view of interconnectedness. The phrase translates in English as "we are all related," or "all my relations." It is an expression of oneness and harmony with all forms of life: other people, animals, birds, insects, trees and plants, and even rocks, rivers, mountains and valleys. Beginnings, endings and all exclamation points in native rituals and ceremonies get a just-audible "Mitakuye Oyasin" from ceremony leaders and close followers. 

I understood this sentiment almost instantly . . . from an intellectual perspective it makes sense based on how life evolved on Earth. I get that we all breathe the same air over and over. But I did not really connect to Mitakuye Oyasin until I faced it straight up.

Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Braiding a practice in winter


Back from holiday vacation at the coast I am ruminating about how little I was outside during the 9-day stay, focusing more on stoking the home fires from the kitchen than on connecting with the Earth. Some of the reticence was warranted by the harshness of the wind and rain. And in my own defense when I did venture out I immersed myself totally in the sights/smells of the deserted stretch of Oregon coast line. But my wool sox/lined boot/down vested body likes to be warm. And the weather was punishing. 

I am a product of my generation and upbringing and likely to push for comfort and security rather than push for growth like my ancestors did. That worries me a bit. How can I balance the gravity that pulls me toward comfort with the learning and growth that can come from a reciprocal relationship with Pachamama, especially in winter? Indigenous wisdom is developed through direct experience. Only regular connection and ritual demonstrate my gratitude and respect. 

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Connecting with the Thanksgiving Reader


I attended an herbalist conference because of my interest in original wisdom and our ancestors' close communication with plants. Pretty much across the world.

Two weeks later I find the words of the keynote speaker rattlin' 'round in my head. There were a couple things about him that were notable. He began by pausing, calling in the former inhabitants of the space, those whose lives were affected by deeds of the past in the locale. Next he offered a visualization where he connected each of us to the center of the earth through our sex and to the Universe through our crowns (his narrative was riveting). Not going to lie, this scholar's main message was lost on me. However, one thing stuck. 

A young man from the audience who identified himself with ADHD, explaining the difficulties, especially employment because of his inability to adhere to office protocols, asked the speaker, "How do you live with the dissonance between where we are (this society and its expectations) and what we believe?" The speaker advised, "Carve out temporary autonomous zones where you have the space, and time, to practice what you believe, and talk about what you believe to relieve the stress." Simultaneous personal benefit and spreading the practice of making a better world.

It was easier to raise a gaggle of kids who were quiet about such things, so speaking up about anything political wasn't encouraged by the elders. But this isn't the legacy I want to leave my family. We didn't pray or sing with gratitude when we were growing up, though we worshiped party and food ritual of holiday celebrations. I have been looking for a way introduce some piece of what I have been doing in developing my own spiritual practice, likely song or flute to help connect my family to each other and the earth. I even had a charm made at the conference that embodies a reuniting and nurturing of our family. But I want to meet them where they are, and heaven forbid not chase off this year's guest. So low and behold . . .

. . . the most recent happening is my newly ignited relationship with Zappos. I am a fan of this culture-rich company and its CEO Tony Hseih. I am now a customer and as a result I get linked to all of the crazy, lovely, heartfelt things they do. Tonight in my inbox is an email from Zappos that contains a link to Seth Grodin's Thanksgiving Reader. It is intended as a worldwide, somewhat simultaneous reading of words that reinforce our connectedness. I cannot wait.

Monday, October 19, 2015

Theory and practice


"We can talk about intensity, or we can experience intensity," reasoned our Shaman. We must've looked lost. He went on to explain, but when we persisted in puzzlement he asked us to stand in a circle. He began a series of easy foot moves, accompanied by his wooden whistle. We followed his lead.You could feel the energy rise from our post-lunch malaise. He played and we danced, movements that included a stomping of sorts on the dirt ground. When we finished he asked, "what is more valuable, talking about intensity or experiencing intensity?" The question was rhetorical.

Friday, October 16, 2015

The choice between personal and natural intelligence


A piece of cultivating spiritual practice is learning to exhibit natural intelligence over personal intelligence. Personal intelligence comes from a single source (our truth), a single point of view that at its best carries a limited amount of knowledge and experience. Natural intelligence, on the other hand, is the amalgamation of personal/earth/sky/plant/ancestor wisdom. Our practice can aspire to act in every moment with the right state of mind--representing the wider natural intelligence.