paying attention

A Move to Substack

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Happy Earth Day, with love – Photo: L. Weikel

Hi everyone!

It’s been a long time since I created a post here, and I’m finally feeling like it’s time to move forward and begin connecting with the outside world again.  A move to Substack is in the offing, and I hope you’ll follow me there!

As most of you know, I’m not the most technologically savvy individual, but I am embracing the challenge to jump on the Substack bandwagon and shift my communications to that platform.

I promised myself I would reach out and create my first Substack post by the full moon (which occurs tomorrow night – at 7:48 p.m. EDT). And, heck, it doesn’t hurt that today is Earth Day, either, since so much of what’s important to me is connected to Mother Earth. It won’t technically be Earth Day anymore when you receive this, but I did actually write and post that first Substack missive tonight.

Speaking of which, HERE is the link to my very first Substack post!

I am going to do my best to import your email addresses to that platform, which will enable you to read all my future posts more easily than forcing me to post in two places. And yes, this is where my command of the technology gets dicey. So I do beg your indulgence and hope you’ll forgive me if you receive some duplicate posts or other annoyances.

Benefits?

If you follow the link to my Substack account, you’ll see that you can simply choose to subscribe for free there and receive my regular posts as I publish them. Will I write a post every single day forever and ever? That’s highly doubtful. But I will be devoted to maintaining frequent connection and communication with you. My intention is to renew my relationship with all of you and share the same type of photos, messages, musings, and myriad other observations that I did while fulfilling my 1111 Devotion commitment. Only now, I’m simply engaging in a Devotion to Paying Attention.

If you choose to become a paying subscriber, you will be actively supporting me and my efforts as I finally get down to writing those sequels I’ve been talking about for twenty years. There was a time when I wondered whether I’d ever feel compelled to tell the rest of the story. This project and my move to Substack is proof that the urge has returned.

But first, I will be posting, chapter by chapter, the content of my spiritual memoir, Owl Medicine. I’m offering this as a benefit to my paid subscribers so you can easily bring yourself “up to speed” and enter the realm of my second book, The Quest, with a clear recollection of the events that had just transpired in our lives. I’d also like to think that reading Owl Medicine again might bring you different insights or new perspectives than you might have experienced when (and if) you read it before.

Back to Paying Attention

I’m offering these sneak-peeks, so to speak, of the chapters of my newest book both for your enjoyment and – pointedly – as an incentive to myself to keep writing. If I promise you chapters, I’m going to deliver! It’s yet another layer of devotion to my readers. Of course, the book as ultimately published will undoubtedly have chapters rearranged, as well as lots of editing applied to my prose. But that could be fun, too. You’ll be watching the evolution of a memoir in real time.

Please join me in paying attention once again, together, to the wonders all around us. Remember: it’s the little things that often make the biggest difference in our lives. We just need to remember to be present, pay attention, and listen.

Keeping It Light – Day 913

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Yet another Ent – Photo: L. Weikel

Keeping It Light

Those of you who faithfully read my posts each day (and who will never truly know how much they’re appreciated) are probably noticing my recent dedication to keeping it light. I know; I write a lot about clouds and messengers, flowers and weather – and I throw some musings on stars and the moon in as well – both astronomically and astrologically.

I’ve made a point of not delving too deeply into politics – especially since the insurrection of January 6th. I’m trusting (perhaps naively) that the truth will ultimately be revealed and consequences will be reaped. The last thing I think any of us want or need (especially if you happen to catch my posts first thing in the morning) is me holding forth on issues that feel as though they’re in the process of resolution.

I’m just happy and relieved beyond measure that our country feels like it’s moving forward again. In spite of all the vitriol that continues to spew from certain factions, overall, I sense an energetic shift has taken place and we’re no longer spinning our wheels (and splattering mud all over anything unlucky enough to be near us).

Things May Be Changing

Well, that unofficial silence on controversial matters may soon be coming to an end. Not that I’m planning on railing about any one thing or another (at least I don’t intend to at the moment)– we all know that’s subject to change at the drop of a hat. But I do have a strong sense that our hiatus of attempting to resume even a remote sense of normalcy is about to become profoundly disrupted yet again.

It’s interesting. I’ve had a few of my closest friends and associates contact me lately to ask if I (too) can feel the shift in the air. Something’s building, something’s growing, and yes, something’s becoming more and more unsettled. The question is not whether we can avoid it (we can’t). It seems to me the very best thing we can do right now is look at the patterns unfolding around us, watch what’s happening not only in our personal lives but across the country and the world, and heighten our awareness of it all. Now is not the time to be anesthetizing ourselves with any of our most common distractions: work, beer, tv, wine, video games, pot (depending upon where you live).

Not to say we can’t indulge – but it behooves us to keep at least one foot on the floor in the coming days, because it’s going to become increasingly easy to become unmoored.

Look out – Photo: L. Weikel

The Astrology

I listened to this podcast the other day. In it, Rick Levine lays out the aspects and implications of so many of the configurations so clearly that I simply must recommend it. I know it’s long (it’s about 90 minutes), but the podcast addresses what we should stay alert for over the next month extremely well. I’ll admit it: I’ve listened to it a couple of times on my most recent walks, and I’ve used the rewind button liberally. I feel like I’ve learned a ton in this particular podcast. And just between the first time I listened (four days or so ago) and now, events are unfolding that only serve to confirm the influences referenced.

This is fascinating stuff. It behooves us to pay attention. Life is so much richer when we have some sense of what’s happening all around us and what we can and can’t influence.

Holding our centers and maintaining enough awareness about what’s going on around us that we’re not blindsided by external events can make all the difference in the world.

Clouds and Trees and Familiars

Give a listen to this podcast. Pay attention to what’s going on. But take some time every single day to revel in some beautiful clouds or the appearance of an Ent on your walk or the adoring gaze of a pet. It’s the little stuff that keeps us going when the big stuff becomes too intense.

What’s happening here? – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-198)

Wild Geranium – Day 911

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My Purple Wildflower: Wild Geranium (Cranesbill) – Photo: L. Weikel

Wild Geranium

Yes indeed, it pays to have friends who know their flora. In yesterday’s post, I included a photo of a delicately sweet purple wildflower that I’d only noticed and appreciated on my walk earlier that day. Not one but two close friends identified that purple wildflower as Wild Geranium – also known as Cranesbill.

Beyond having very smart friends, this also confirms that I would make an absolutely abysmal herbalist. Actually, not only am I not the person to go to for guidance on the healing powers of plants – I don’t (or barely) even know which ones I could eat without killing myself. Which is why, if I ever decide to go off into the wilderness, I’d better ask Wendy or Margaret to come along. (And while I realize I have a several more friends who would also fit the bill – I want to clarify that they’re the ones who made the positive ID on FB this morning, so they win the prize.)

Noticing

In yesterday’s post, I mused that I’d only noticed these purple blossoms that day. Upon reflection, I surely must’ve seen them before. It’s fascinating, if a little unsettling, to contemplate how many things I see or look at each day and never even notice. My eyes just gloss right over a million things. Every day.

Today, for instance, I was intent upon examining the Cranesbill more closely in order to verify the identification. Sure enough, when I bent down and really took a good look at the entire plant, I could see how the leaves are the same shape as domesticated geraniums that are available in hanging pots all over the place.

Odd ‘Coincidence’

What’s slightly amusing to me is that just this past weekend I’d been out hunting for a hanging plant for our porch. I knew I’d know what I wanted when I saw it, and I even laughed at myself for being so picky. I perused the selections of at least four garden centers before finding what I wanted. The funny thing about that? I distinctly remember thinking to myself, “One plant I know I don’t want is geranium. Ick. I don’t like them.”

Ha!

It wasn’t more than 24-48 hours later that wild geranium had me swooning. Of course, knowing me by now, you know I looked it up. As far as traditional herbal usage of the plant goes, I’m grateful I’m not in need of its healing properties at the moment. (And from the sound of the afflictions it remedies, I think I better hope I never do.)

On my walk tonight, of course, I was acutely aware of their presence. And yes, I apologized to the spirit of geranium. I now realize I’m quite fond of the wild variety, at the very least.

Wild Geranium – aka Cranesbill – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-200)

Sun Salutations – Day 891

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Exuberant Tulip – Photo: L. Weikel

Sun Salutations

As mentioned yesterday, in yet another example of reaping rewards for simply paying attention to the details of life that surround me, beyond catching sight of the flourishing bleeding hearts, I also noticed my tulips performing sun salutations.

The flat-out, open-hearted nature of this tulip bowled me over when I saw it. I took the photo above at 12:34 p.m., when the sun was directly overhead. This particular specimen could not have been more unabashed in its eagerness to soak up every last drop of solar nectar. Moments after I took the photo, I’ll admit, I sat on the porch and just stared at it. I drank in the exquisite harmony and balance of the petals; the way the patterns repeat themselves over and over again. Almost mesmerizingly, I see a plethora of sixes. The brilliant yellow stamens are half a six, but the rest of the flower is a blatant celebration of sixes. Numerologically, sixes can represent exuberance.

I dare you to look at that tulip and not feel joy stirring in your heart. Joy simply at being able to witness such a precisely-wrought piece of art created from a bulb that wintered underground throughout this long, cold, snowy winter.

Long Gone

When I spied this exaltation to spring, and saw its petals stretched out far and wide, I honestly thought I was witnessing its greatest expression of its tulip-hood. The feeling I got (and still get) when I immerse myself in the beauty of the patterns contained within the face of this flower is that it spent it all. This flower didn’t hold back one iota of energy when it flung its six petals out in an ecstatic embrace of the sun.

I didn’t think it could recover itself in time to live, and rejoice in, another day. I thought she’d be long gone within a day.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I set off to take my walk last night and glanced in the direction of my exuberant tulip, only to find this:

Child’s Pose Following Sun Salutations – Photo: L. Weikel

Boundaries

Wow! She was closed up tighter than a drum! What a worthwhile example of both being in the moment and setting boundaries.

It’s weird, I know. Don’t I know tulips aren’t the type of flower that just bloom one day and then have their petals fall off the next? Of course I know that. But I’ve certainly not been as aware of the cellular sentience of these beings as I was in that moment. For whatever reason, it hit home. These tulips embrace their sustenance with zeal and close up shop at the end of the day to preserve all they’ve gathered.

There’s no debate; no waffling. Life is lived with gusto and boundaries are set to protect itself and the life force coursing through it.

And my day was made all the richer for it because I paid attention.

Finally

I ran across a tree tonight as I took a walk following the announcement of the verdict in the trial of Derek Chauvin for the murder of George Floyd last year. I’ve walked past this tree a bazillion times before. But I’ve never seen it look quite so much like a Black goddess with arms upraised in victory and celebration as it did tonight.

Victory – Accountability – A Step Toward Justice – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-220)

Coalescence of Messaging – Day 883

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Spartacus Sending Mind-Meld Vibes – Photo: L. Weikel

A Coalescence of Messaging

I’m experiencing a coalescence of messaging lately. At least that’s what it feels like. Two Pileated Woodpeckers and then two days later two Ospreys. Neither of these birds can be considered ‘frequent’ sightings, in spite of how much time I spend outside walking or how often I frequent the Tohickon Creek or the Delaware River.

The trick, as always, is to do my best to be open to what that message may be, which is not as easy as it might sound.

It’s one thing to be able to see patterns and read signs and omens for other people. I’ve been intuiting such messages probably all my life. In fact, for the longest time I thought these clues to life that surround people were so obvious that I wouldn’t point them out. It never occurred to me that they weren’t being ‘picked up’ by the intended recipients. Indeed, I didn’t want to insult people’s intelligence. It felt disrespectful to point out everything that seemed readily apparent to me.

Sometimes a part of me would want to say, “Well, duh! Do you need to be clonked on the head with a 2×4? It’s so obvious!” Usually, though, I would over-correct and deliberately choose to not point out what was blaring like a neon light in my mind. If it was obvious to me, surely it was obvious to them. I only saw the connections based upon information I gleaned from listening to them (be they clients, friends, or family). I was simply connecting the dots.

Forty Years

If I really think about it, it probably took me at least forty years to fully grasp that people don’t see what I see. Or they don’t connect stuff that happens all around us – particularly after asking a pointed question or expressing a yearning for guidance or a message – that to me is obviously a direct response to their plea.

As I say, I think I’ve always had an odd way of looking at and interpreting information that comes to us via a variety of traditional sensory and extra-sensory means. But it wasn’t until I started engaging in the energetic work I was taught in the Andean shamanic tradition, including listening to and giving credence to the information I receive via shamanic journeying, that I realized that a significant part of what I offer is precisely what I thought was the most mundane and pedestrian aspect of my work.

Do For Yourself

I’ve spent a lot of my writing time this evening trying to convey something I’ve struggled with for decades. I’ve probably taken so much time trying to explain my perspective because it matters to me how I express this. I’m not in any way disparaging those who look at a very obvious (again, to me) message from their higher self or Spirit (or whomever you want to attribute the message) and don’t get it.

In fact, I often wonder if it’s just a blind spot we all have. Are messages easier to See when they’re not being directed toward us?

I don’t know. I do know, however, that as obvious as so many messages, signs, and symbols are to me as they pertain to other people, I have a really tough time reading them for myself. Perhaps it’s because I do my best to remain detached on behalf of others. I don’t want to be invested in hearing any particular answer or message for another person, so I just see what I see and hear what I hear.

But for myself? That’s tough. It’s not as easy as you might think.

(T-228)

Progression – Day 867

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Sprouts – Photo: L. Weikel

Progression

A couple weeks ago (or maybe it was only days, time’s been so skewed for me lately), I mused over the possibility of taking photos of the buds coming up out of the ground. I’m pretty sure I specifically made reference to documenting the progression of either the crocuses (croci? crocae?) or daffodils, or maybe even both.

But instead of either of these traditional harbingers of spring, I’m choosing a more unique and perhaps slightly less stereotypical spring blossom to track: Lamprocapnos spectabilis (aka Dicentra spectabilis) or Bleeding Heart.

I’ve been surprised the past couple of years by how this plant seems to almost magically appear, fully formed, overnight. I’m certain my surprise at its dramatic arrival into my awareness is a result of my lack of attention. So I’m seeking to bring more attention to my Bleeding Heart plant this year, and part of my efforts will include documenting the progression of its growth.

Learn Something New

I distinctly remember my mother introducing me to this particular flowering plant when we were weeding behind the stone farmhouse in which I grew up. The garden we had always felt so wild, planted as it was on a small hillside with old mortar and stone walls lining the perimeter. There were snakes and worms and voles and moles in that garden. Bees and salamanders. And among the flowers were the bleeding hearts.

I can’t remember the words my mother used but I can remember the awe I felt when looking at the blossoms and wondering how amazing it was that a plant could so obviously resemble a heart splitting and releasing a single drop of precious blood. It bordered on the magical that a plant could mimic something so human.

Ever since then, I’ve always associated these flowers with my mother. I don’t know why. She taught me the names of lots of things; why do these, as well as the scent of lilacs, always bring her back to me so vividly?

When looking these flowers up (so I could know their proper name), I discovered that the blossom, when turned upside down, resembles something quite different than a bleeding heart, and hence is the basis of its ‘other’ name.

While you can certainly look it up yourself, I’m going to wait until my little sprouts grow up and let them reveal their other name to us themselves.

(T-244)

Mixing It Up – Day 547

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Nothing But Swirls and Fenceposts – Photo: L.Weikel

Mixing It Up

If you’ve been reading my posts for any length of time, first of all thank you, and second of all you probably realize that you never know what I’m going to write about from one day to the next. It’s the old “keep ‘em guessing” strategy. You know: mixing it up so you never know if you’re going to miss one of the good ones – making every day’s offering an adventure of discovery.

Yikes. I’m dredging from my college days now, making whip-smart use of that psychology degree by employing intermittent reinforcement to the readers of my blog posts. B. F. Skinner would be proud.

Actually, it’s not intentional. Not in the nefarious way I’m alluding to, anyway. It is intentional in respect to the fact that I try to stay away from writing too much about any one subject. My thoughts do bounce around from one topic to another.

A Niche

I think maybe I thought, or was hoping, I’d have discovered a niche by now. But no. Five hundred forty seven days into the 1111 Devotion project and no discernible niche has revealed itself. I guess I’m just a jack-of-all-subjects and master-of-none.

If you were to take a gander at the photos on my iPhone, though, you might come to another conclusion. You very well might think, “This chick should’ve become a meteorologist. Clearly she has a thing for clouds and other weather events.” And you would not be wrong.

Clouds

I adore clouds. I’m confident this comes as no surprise to any of you. And I particularly love letting my gaze soften when I look to the sky and allowing myself to simply see what’s up there. Like the angel’s wings I wrote about last week, and any number of other posts I’ve share about clouds that have appeared to me in intriguing shapes.

Just a day or so ago, I caught this one:

Fox Chasing Bird – Photo: L. Weikel

In my imagination, I easily see a fox chasing an oversized bird right across the sky.

No, I don’t feel there’s any particular message associated with that image. It’s simply a delight. A whimsical interlude punctuating one of our walks.

And that’s an important aspect of what I do as well, or perhaps how I approach life, that many people don’t realize. I don’t try to wring a message or a lesson out of every single thing that happens to me or that comes to my attention. I know it may seem as if I do, but in truth, there’s a unique sense of significance that I sense deep within when I encounter a ‘message.’

Cultivating that sense is something that comes with practice. But first things first – which means, you have to do a lot of noticing and paying attention to realize which experiences coming your way are messages and which are simply interludes of beauty, or pain, or something else in your life that are ‘only’ important in that moment.

 

(T-564)

Eyes Looking Back – Day 362

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Eyes Looking Back

I was walking today and took this photo.

The brilliance of the emerald moss caught my attention and insisted I honor it by sharing its image. Truly, it called to me and when I say it insisted, I mean it. I sensed a desire to have its beauty shared.

Semi-Mindful?

So I guess I could claim that I was being semi-mindful as I strolled through the woods. I had a destination in mind, but I was at least conscious enough of my surroundings to appreciate the lush moss blanket and the intricate pattern of leaves splayed across it.

At least I heard the call for attention.

But now, as I look at this photo more closely, I’m starting to wonder just who it was that called me to stop and pay attention to this particular tree at this particular moment.

Are those eyes? Photo – L. Weikel

Eyes Looking Back

As I shushed forward through the piles of gold and brown leaves, I was called back to pay specific attention to this tree, this moss, this small but obvious portal into the darkness of Mother Earth. But when I look more closely at this snapshot of a moment in time, a blink of an eye, I see something staring back at me.

I peer into the tiny entrance at the heart of this tree and I realize…I’m not alone.

What’s behind the eyes I see staring back at me from inside the tree? Instead of fearing me, did it energetically reach out and snag me, pulling me back to engage in some energetic exchange? Was there a challenge issued from within this hollow, a call to stop and witness its presence?

Are the Beings that usually remain invisible to us humans demanding to be Seen and perhaps Heard in these volatile times?

Are they tired of being ignored or dismissed into non-existence?

(T-749)

Attention and Luck – Day 297

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Copperhead Visitor, top view – Photo: L. Weikel

It Pays to Pay Attention

Living near rocky outcroppings, forests, and hiking trails, Karl and I have seen a fair number of snakes. It’s sad, but most of the snakes we see are young Eastern Milk Snakes that have been squished by cars as the youngsters try to cross the road near High Rocks. Yes, I realize that sounds specific, but for all our walking, the dirt and gravel road that leads to High Rocks is unquestionably a death dealer for a lot of snakes.

The other day, Saturday to be exact, we came across a Milk Snake that we initially thought was another casualty of cars driving to High Rocks. I’m pretty vigilant about removing from the roadway any dead animals we might encounter because I don’t want carillon eaters (mostly Turkey Vultures and Black Vultures, but Crows like to grab snacks if they have a chance) getting hit while feasting.

Assist – With Caution

I say we ‘initially’ thought the snake was a casualty – but I make sure (before engaging in my shifting-the-body-to-the-berm efforts) they’re dead before messing with them. This particular Milk Snake was not discernibly squished anywhere, so I proceeded with caution (even though I was pretty sure it was a Milk Snake – and they are not venomous). With a gentle nudge of a stick, it scooted off the roadway. But I did manage to snap its photo before it headed into the grass.

Milk Snake – Photo: L. Weikel

I’m familiar with Milk Snakes because they resemble Northern Copperheads, which are venomous. In fact, Copperheads are the source of the most bites in Pennsylvania, although luckily, those bites are very rarely lethal – just really painful.

I say ‘just’ extremely painful – but I can assure you, I have absolutely no desire to experience such a bite.

Luck Plays a Part, Too

It turns out that Copperheads, while being the snakes that produce the most bites, do not tend to be aggressive. Rather, almost all bites are a result of a person stepping on one or accidentally touching one.

This reinforces my initial assertion that it pays to pay attention.

But I’m here to tell you that luck can go a long  way as well.

Witness this serpent I encountered yesterday: I was trudging up the hill back to our fire pit and lost my balance. At the very same moment as I struggled not to fall forward, my brain registered what I was seeing curled amongst the leaves at the very edge of the grilling area:

Copperhead visitor, hanging out – Photo: L. Weikel

I’ll admit it; I freaked. I don’t know how I managed to stumble yet remain standing enough to dodge tumbling right onto it! I was lucky. That’s all I can say. Lucky that I was paying attention and lucky that my center of gravity was such that I was able to catch myself.

Move Along (Please!)

Of course, since Karl was laying another fire (and was probably freaked every bit as much as I was – because he’d been walking around very close to it and had not seen it), I felt we needed to move it. We welcome the message that serpent brings (to shed that which no longer serves us), but we didn’t need the messenger in our faces any longer than necessary!

Knowing it was alive, I found a very long branch with which to nudge it out of its slumber. It was not alarmed in the least. In fact, it hung around, basically showed me where it lives, left our company, returned a while later, allowed me to take its photograph from a couple of different angles, and then retreated again to its home amidst the massive rock wall.

Here are my photos. Theme: My September Encounter with a Copperhead:

Copperhead heading into its home – Photo: L. Weikel

As you can see, it was much longer than expected, based upon how deceptively compact it was curled up within the leaves!

Returning to visit again – Photo: L. Weikel

Well, for whatever reason, I can’t get the photos to propagate the post. So…you’ll have to imagine what s/he looked like all stretched out. Maybe tomorrow!

(I had to write the paragraph above because the photos would not upload. I’ve gotten them embedded now, so those of you reading this via FB or later on my website – after those receiving this via email –  should be able to see the photos in all their…um…glory!)

(T-814)

What’s the Message? – Day 264

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I Better Pay Attention

Anyone who makes an effort to pick Medicine Cards®on a regular basis knows how odd – but almost always significant – it is to go weeks or months or perhaps even longer without choosing a particular card, only to suddenly begin doing so. And it’s even weirder when you start choosing that card repeatedly, whether it be ‘on the top’ (meaning it’s the primary card you chose) or ‘on the bottom’ (meaning it’s literally the card on the bottom of the deck no matter where in the deck you chose your ‘main’ card from). The ‘bottom’ card is used to add context or sometimes a hint or clue as to what area in your life to which the main card might apply.

Well, over the past week, I chose Swan for the first time in a very, very long time. Specifically, the first time, I chose Swan/Weasel. Then I chose it again today. Swan/Skunk.

Two days before the first time I chose Swan (six days ago), Skunk started showing up, too. Indeed, Skunk showed up two days before Swan appeared, then for two days running a few days later, then one last time again – today.

My apologies if this seems a bit ‘in the weeds.’ My point is to show that Swan has not been an integral player in my life for a very long time, nor has Skunk – but now they’re both showing up. And I think I better pay attention. So I do…

Spirit’s Not So Sure

I assert (to myself, to Spirit) that I’m paying attention; I’m ‘all good,’ and indeed, I’m doing just fine thank you very much.

Yes, hmm. Swan has shown up in my life. OK. I’m supposed to ‘trust’ and ‘surrender’ – perhaps even literally journey for myself (as opposed to all the journeying I do on behalf of clients), in order to determine what my ‘next steps’ are.

I wrote about it a bit in my journal. But I’ll confess: I did not write much. I was sort of blowing it off; thinking I knew what it was driving at. Assuming. Indeed, I was acting as if I knew, at least superficially, what message Swan was bringing me.

Smack Upside the Head

Imagine my surprise, then, the other day, when I was sitting by the creek writing in my journal, when the following vision appeared before my eyes:

Special Delivery Messenger? – Photo: L. Weikel

I’ll be honest: this felt pretty freaking momentous. It felt playful – but insistent. After all, in some ways, a big blow-up golden Swan floating into my life was even more startling and clearly a message than had a regular, full-feathered Swan made an appearance.

Nevertheless (I’ll admit it), I blew that off, too. Well. Not entirely. I took a photo of it. I wrote about it in my journal. But I didn’t sit with it in all seriousness. I didn’t truly reflect on its meaning.

Which Brings Me To Today

Yet again, I chose Swan/Skunk today. These two archetypal energies have been hanging around me now for about two good weeks. Slipping in and out of my daily picks, flirting with my consciousness, floating down the Tohickon in real life and marooning itself on a rock right in front of where I was sitting and writing.

Yeah. I’m thinking there’s a message Spirit wants me to pay attention to and receive. Perhaps, if I’m diligent, I’ll figure it out tomorrow.

Photo: wildsafebc.com

(T-847)