joy

Feeding the Birds – Day 496

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Feeding the Birds – Photo: L. Weikel

Feeding the Birds

Some of you may remember my semi-flip out back in September when suddenly all the birds not only went silent but actually left the premises. It was a long 20 days or so before they finally started returning, much to my huge relief. It’s possible, I suppose, that they all just suddenly discovered plentiful seeds and other treats somewhere else. But the abruptness and totality of their departure – and the similar abruptness of their return – just seemed kind of weird.

I do intend to pay attention this fall, to see if they make it into an annual habit.

Looking For Normal

This past week felt like I was trapped in a time warp. Every day I had to make a concerted effort to steady and ground myself – almost as if I’d awakened in the midst of an ocean and had to regain my sea legs before I could walk into the next room. But it wasn’t a physical wavering. It was a psychological one – or perhaps even deeper; perhaps an existential one.

So many assumptions and fundamental beliefs I’ve held about our country and our ability to respond to any challenge – no matter how grave, how daunting, or how threatening – have been shattered this week. And the worst part about that? The worst part is knowing that it was completely avoidable. The worst part is knowing that our lack of preparation and ability to respond (responsibility) was facilitated by the deliberate obfuscation of those at the highest levels of our government.

And people are starting to get sick and die in numbers that grow exponentially, daily, as a result.

So? Having no real power to effect meaningful change until Election Day, I need to look for normal amidst the chaos. Looking for normal yesterday afternoon meant feeding my birds.

Everyday Joy

The temperature outside climbed to 78 degrees yesterday. Needing to ground myself and reconnect to what’s real and sustainable, I found myself sitting on my porch in the sunshine, reveling in birdsong. For a precious few minutes, I was able to wrap myself in a cocoon of delight as I listened to the robins and the fish crows trill and grok, respectively. I watched both two red shouldered woodpeckers and a downy cling to my front feeder and push around a chickadee, then heard but could not see-to-save-my-life the producer of the unmistakable, heavy-billed <<thwacking>> of a pileated just beyond the garage.

I watched goldfinches, house finches, sparrows and wrens flit and flutter amongst the shelter of the carcass of our Christmas tree, which we prop against one of the maples in our yard each year to give them additional cover from the sharp-shinned and red-tailed hawks that patrol the area. Nuthatches marched upside down on the maples and I even glimpsed either a blue bird or an indigo bunting before it disappeared into the thicket along our driveway.

My effort to reclaim normal consisted of the measured, meditative act of filling our birdfeeders and feeding the birds.

Pandemic Partners

I hope I’ll be able to keep my feeders filled over the coming months. The joy and sense of connection with All Life that birds give me is abundantly healing and centering. I recently came across this great article with excellent tips on how to make our yards welcoming, safe, and enticing to these wonderful creatures. It affirmed why Karl and I are so lucky to have so many feathered friends sharing this land we call home.

So many of the suggestions in this article are sound common sense, but they’re also little ways of changing our relationship with birds and Mother Earth that help bring us into balance with Her.

And ultimately, as we make our way through the devastation of this pandemic, coming back into balance with Mother Earth will be key. Celebrating and appreciating our birds can remind us of that.

Goldfinch – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-615)

Hope – Day 475

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Cecilia June – Photo: Cecilia’s Daddy

Hope

Nothing says “I have hope for the future!” like bringing a child into the world.

And so it is that someone very dear to me has brought a ray of light, an infusion of hope, into the world today – and I could not be more thrilled or grateful.

Cecelia June was born today – this most special “Leap Year” day – making her forever a child who will always be making choices for herself. For instance, on those years that her birthday doesn’t appear on the calendar, she will choose: February 28th? Or March 1st?

If she’s as feisty as her mother, I suspect she’ll say, “BOTH!”

A Connection to Someone

Funny thing, this little girl. We (her mother and I) knew she was on the way before we knew she was coming. And that’s because we were given a ‘heads up’ by the person to whom I’ve dedicated each and every one of these 475 blog posts.

Yup.

He knew before any of the rest of us knew. And he made a point of coming through someone, in a completely unexpected and surprising circumstance, to tell me how excited he was for this future addition to the family to arrive. And I swear to you, not 24 hours went by before I received a text from ‘Cecelia’s mom’ – out of the blue – telling me she’d had a dream about Karl that night– a dream having to do with bringing a baby into the world. A very short while later…

So little Cecelia June will always and forever have a connection to her “Uncle” Karl. Not only did he know she was coming before anyone else, but her birthdate and time will always share something with him as well. She was born on the 29th (of February, no less – no mean feat, that, being born in February!) at 5:15 p.m.

Let’s do the math: 2+9=11 and 5+1+5=11.

Hmmm. 11/11. What a ‘coincidence.’

Welcome, Cecelia June. Your decision to be born at this crucial time in our evolution brings us all hope. And joy. “Bring it, feisty one!” (Check out that clenched fist. She’s not going to take guff from anyone. Ever.) The resemblance to a certain iconic photo is uncanny.

 

 

 

(T-636)

Winter Solstice – Day 404

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First Lights – Photo: L. Weikel

Winter Solstice    

When you read this post it will be December 21st, 2019, the shortest day of the year. Hence, it is also the longest night.

I don’t know about you (although I can guess), but is sure has felt like a long, dark night all week.

I’m ready for the light to begin filtering back into our lives.

Speaking of Which

Of course, speaking of darkness, it seems only appropriate that I mention probably one of my favorite things about this time of year: the lights; especially the lights on our Christmas tree.

I adore sitting in our living room, all the regular lights turned out, the tv off, and just the candles in the windows and the tree lights illuminating the darkness. A couple of evenings over the next two weeks or so – perhaps even tomorrow night (who knows?) – I’d love to spend the entire evening reading, the fire burning in the fireplace, the lights twinkling, and the darkness remaining at bay outside.

In the Meantime

I want to remind you that the I AM Solstice Symposium is taking place tomorrow (Saturday, December 21st, 2019). Tune in! There’s a great lineup of inspiring speakers who will be sharing all sorts of insight, wisdom, strategies, lore, and opportunities for connection.

I’ll be speaking live at 5:30 p.m. (EST). With the theme of this year’s I AM Symposium being Navigating Turbulent Winds, I thought it might be helpful to discuss some strategies I’ve learned over the years on how to “Batten Down the Hatches.”

It’ll be dark outside (around here anyway) by the time I start speaking. So light a candle, bask in the glow of the holidays, and invite the lights of peace, hope, and optimism (and maybe a little mirth thrown in, too) to enter all our lives. Snuggle up on your couch and join me for a fireside chat.

Wishing you a Joyful Solstice. Give birth to the light within your Self.

Photo from Deborah Hinton’s post on The Wyrding Way

(T-707)

Tohickon to the Rescue – Day 341

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My Sacred Tohickon, 18 Oct 19 – Photo: L. Weikel

Tohickon to the Rescue      

Yes, I know. I can just imagine your reaction to the title to this post. “Good grief, how can this chick talk so much about a stupid creek?”

But here I sit, at the end of a day that started out as dark and wild as the day before it, at the end of yet another long week of astonishing ugliness and corruption being exposed to our wondering eyes, at the end of a week that brought sadness at a sudden loss of a person of great courage and integrity. Here I sit on my couch, the reassuring snore of Sheila percolating from under her favorite wolf blanket, asking myself what of this day merits my attention and reflection.

View upstream of the Tohickon – Photo: L. Weikel

What Brought Me Joy

And I have to answer: what I feel most compelled to share with you today is the bounty of joy reaped from fifteen minutes I spent beside the Tohickon Creek, on my way home from running some mid-afternoon errands.

Most of the day was overcast and chilly. Taking the ‘long way’ home yet again, as I did last week when I encountered the dazed young deer, I managed to make it to the covered bridge without incident. I proceeded alongside the magnificent wall of black rock rising up a steep hill to my left, emerald moss strategically highlighting the wall’s nooks and crannies. As I crested the slight rise of the single lane road and rounded the blind spot where the rock wall refused to yield and demanded the road meet its terms, sunshine suddenly spilled forth from above.

View downstream of the Tohickon – Photo: L. Weikel

The moment was magical and quite unexpected. It was as if the clouds surrendered, bowing to the warmth of the sun, when actually it was more a function of the wind’s insistence that they part. It didn’t matter to me what caused it. All I knew was that everything around me transformed in an instant. The brilliant oranges, yellows, reds, and spring-like greens on the trees were not only illuminated but doubled in their presentation, as it seemed all of it – everything – was reflected on the surface of the Tohickon.

Capturing the Moment to Share With You

Even as I try to describe this moment of “Ah!” my heart quickens a bit.

Suddenly surrounded by this palette of autumn flavors, I was filled with awe. Breathless with the wonder of it all, I pulled off the road at my favorite spot. All I could do was thank All That Is for giving me this moment.

Knowing and appreciating how truly lucky I am to have the opportunity to encounter such a moment in the middle of an October afternoon, I once again yearned to bring the beauty and inspiration home to you, my readers. So I jumped out of the car and even hopped onto a couple rocks that took me further into the creek so I could get shots both further up and down stream.

Sky and trees reflected in the Tohickon

Reflections on the Tohickon – Photo: L. Weikel

What delighted me most were the reflections. Oh my goodness, I was surrounded by the most exquisite works of art in the world.

In those moments, I was soothed. The peace and beauty and ‘eternal now’ of those precious moments wrapped themselves around me and whispered, “We’re here. Look, see, feel, listen. Take comfort. Share us.”

And that was the highlight of my day.

Trees reflected in the Tohickon

More Tohickon reflections – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-770)

Found Magic – Day 152

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 3 Comments
Found Magic: Faerie House – Photo: L.Weikel

Found Magic

Karl left for appointments at the crack of dawn this morning, so we didn’t get a chance to have our coffee together and pick cards the way we usually do. Nevertheless, he did text me later in the morning to let me know what he’d chosen on his day.

Meanwhile, I knew it was supposed to rain later in the day, so I made a point of getting out earlier than I usually do to take a walk. Before I left, I chose a Medicine Card® for my day: I chose Raven with Mouse underneath.

Raven/Mouse

As I’ve had occasion to discuss a few times already, (here, here, and here) Raven is associated with the concept of Magic. I capitalize the ‘M’ in Magic in this context because it is different than your normal, hokus pokus, pull a rabbit out of a hat type of magic. It’s way bigger than that. Or sometimes much smaller.

I’ve had some pretty cool experiences this week, which, again, I’m digesting and contemplating how and when to share with all of you. It’s not that I’m hoarding my experiences. At least that’s not my intention. Rather, I’m holding them close to the vest, so to speak, until I’ve integrated them, making an effort not to dilute them by sharing them too quickly and thus not appreciating their ‘Magic.’

So when I got this combo of Raven/Mouse today, I thought it might be an indication that it’s time for me to start sharing some of the experiences I’ve had over the past several weeks.

Alas, that’s not how it’s playing out.

Not What I Expected

For when I was walking today, I came upon a setting that screamed, “MAGIC!” to me. So much so, in fact, that I had to stop and take a photo with my iPhone to share with you.

Take a look at the photo that’s accompanying this post and tell me I did not stumble upon some Magic right in the middle of regular life. This faerie house is completely and totally natural. It’s growing out of the bark on a tree that’s just growing tall beside the road.

And part of the Magic, in my mind at least, is that I actually saw it. Out of all the myriad sights and sounds and odors, from screeching hawks to trucks with confederate flags in their back window to cigarette butts, the occasional fast food container and a beer bottle or two, and a Boston Terrier named Spartacus excitedly marking his territory on all sorts of new logs and piles of leaves – I noticed this exquisite piece of faerie real estate.

It felt like a gift. Just look at the detail, the colors, the exquisite natural beauty.

Stuff I Didn’t Get Done vs. Magic

There were tasks I had set for myself to accomplish today that I did not manage to complete. And a couple of times, I started in on lamenting that I’d walked instead of doing those things first. But then I was reminded of two other amazing discoveries I’d made this week – both on Wednesday – and both of which I would have completely missed had I not walked precisely when I did that day. Not only were they amazing discoveries in and of themselves, but the township literally scraped the dirt road upon which I’d found both of them the very next day. So my timing had been perfect.

And that’s how I felt about my discovery of the faerie house earlier today. It was all about timing and paying attention (Mouse) and being open to the myriad little things in life that bring us joy and arouse our awareness of the Magic that surrounds all of us if we open our hearts and eyes and ears.

And if we simply give ourselves the chance to just be.

(T-959)

Pigs But Not Pork – Day Eighty Seven

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 4 Comments
Piglets running side by side (Photo: L.Weikel)

Pigs But Not Pork        

I’m struggling tonight. I’ve been awake since 4:00 a.m. and I’m falling asleep sitting up.

I did manage to get a walk in before the rain arrived, though. Thank goodness. But even better than the mere health benefits (and constitutional rigor it provides to our pups), was the fact that our little black piggies were playing outside today!

I wish I could post some of the short videos I take with my iPhone sometimes. For instance, today I could see from afar, as we approached their field, that the pigs were no longer hunkered down in their wooden pen, but were just outside it, grazing on tufts of grass and snuffling into the mud. I put the iPhone on camera mode as we approached and tried to coordinate both leashes in one hand, hoping that Spartacus would not suddenly lunge at the adorable porkers when I started talking and calling to them.

See, the problem with the pigs (from Spartacus’s perspective) is not that they are classic puppy-fun to run after. It’s that I talk to the piglets in the same high pitched sing-song voice that I talk to all animals, domesticated or not, and usually babies, as well. It’s the same voice I use to converse with Spartacus and Sheila. So there’s a hint of jealousy in the air when he hears me calling to the piglets and sheep. But I have to give Spart credit. His ears perk up at first, but then he just brushes it off, usually continuing to stop, sniff, and tinkle he way toward home.

Pigs But Not Pork (to me)

I took some video today and managed to catch the pigs at the moment they noticed we were walking up the hill along the road that runs beside the edge of their owner’s property.

Sadly, words fail to describe how freaking adorable they were! Oh my, I know why I don’t eat pork any more and haven’t for years (besides having been born in the Year of the Pig and therefore not wanting to eat one of my own) (for these are definitely Earth Pigs!). Just as we started approaching them, I saw one pig catch sight of me. He seemed to hop, startled, but then grunted something that the rest of his cohort totally understood, because suddenly they lifted their snouts en masse and the whole little herd started running toward us!

Even though I’d had my iPhone/camera ready, their sudden movement did make the pups pull a bit harder, so I fumbled with touching the button to start the recording. I managed, though, and I captured them trotting happily over to me, bopping along the edge of the fence, ears flapping gaily. A car suddenly rounded the corner, heading toward us (luckily not traveling too fast), but I only managed to capture a few frames.

It was long enough to capture the cute. Regrettably, though, I can’t post video on this blog.

Unbridled Joy

So the still shots will just have to do. For now. I’ll try to get even better ones another time.

These little creatures give me unbridled joy. The way they seem to hop and skip as they trip over themselves to run to greet me, their surprisingly long ears flapping and flopping in their exuberance, never fails to bring laughter and a burst of delight to my heart.

I hope my one-handed photos brighten your morning. Oh – and I forgot to mention the three sheep (one little, one medium, and one larger) who, for some strange reason, have been separated from the rest of their kin (who are in a large field at the top of the hill on the other side of the barn) and are relegated to, or perhaps rewarded by, hangin’ with the piglets.

Here’s a photo of the smallest one peeking out at me from behind the largest.

Sometimes I have to wonder how I got so incredibly lucky to live near all my beloved creatures.

Have a joyful day.

(T-1024)

Turkey Day – Day Eleven (T-1100)

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 4 Comments

 

Turkey Day

Funny.  I never call Thanksgiving “Turkey Day,” but here I am titling my blog post for today “Turkey Day.”

I didn’t eat turkey today, nor did I even see one (either in the wild or on a platter).

But I thought of turkeys today – and the meaning of Turkey as conveyed by my beloved Medicine Cards – and in spite of myself, kind of felt a little sad.

One of the paragraphs in Turkey goes as follows:

“Spectators unfamiliar with the cultural phenomenon of the pot-latch or give-away ceremony are often mystified by it. A tribal member may gladly give away all he or she owns, and do without in order to help the People. In present-day urban life, we are taught to acquire and get ahead. The person with the most toys wins the game. In some cultures, no one can win the game unless the whole of the People’s needs are met. A person who claims more than his or her share is looked upon as selfish or crazy or both. The poor, the aged, and the feeble have honor. The person who gives away the most and carries the burdens of the people is one of the most respected.”

What’s Mine? Yours? Ours? Theirs?

There’s a lot of focus these days on what’s ‘mine,’ what’s ‘yours,’ what’s theirs,’ and what’s ‘ours.’ And there are a lot of people claiming an astoundingly greater portion of a lot of our resources than could even remotely be considered their ‘share.’

And I will be the first to admit that I do not consistently embody the spirit conveyed within this paragraph. I don’t even come close. But I aspire to do so.

And I wonder how much better so many people in the world would feel if everyone just thought a little bit more about someone else. Not only the people who were ‘thought of,’ but also the people who do the thinking of others. It could be such a colossally ‘win-win’ of a situation.

The joy of making another person smile and know they’re loved – it’s huge. The joy of letting another person know they make a difference in your life and you appreciate them for it – can change their life forever. The joy of taking a moment to be kind, to be generous, to be patient, or to be compassionate – can make your life worth living.

Sometimes the smallest gestures, such as looking directly into a person’s eyes when you listen to them, can make everything seem a little bit brighter.

Aspire to make a difference. Smile. Be grateful. You matter.

Happy “Turkey” Day.