Rebel - Shadow and Light!

This morning, working with a coaching client, a juicy conversation about the rebel aspect within - something I'm well acquainted with! 

As a teenager, walking in the energy of the rebel archetype was a way for me to feel powerful. I did not question whether there were good or bad times to walk in this energy. It didn't occur to me that I could choose to step into or out of this energy. It simply welled up inside me and spilled out over the situations I found myself in and the people who happened to be around me. Sometimes the effects were disastrous! But there were other times, (enough times to keep me bonded to this energy) where people took me more seriously, when adults backed down on their demands of me, and where my peers sat up and noticed, and maybe even asked themselves, "Who the heck is she!"

credit: EcosocialistsUnite.com

And now that I'm "all grown up"? I've tamed my rebel down a lot, maybe too much. Over the years there were enough times when instead of giving weight to my rebel-thinking, people took me less seriously, or even became alienated to me. So I squashed her down a bit... Yet there are still times now when her energy bubbles up and I simply let her out and savour - at least for a moment or two!


But what if I took her more seriously? What if I asked myself: where could her disturbing energy be used to break stuck places open? What if her job was to make cracks for the Light to shine in?  How do I call on my rebel to help with earth-healing... what could authentic rebel power bring to the world? And how can I choose with awareness the times when I will walk in that energy? 

I see it's all about being awake. And asking myself tons of questions. It calls me to step into the place of the witness within myself where I can simply mull... 
~ how do my rebel and I bring light and healing, within myself, AND to this situation...
~ what's going on with this person in front of me who's encountering my rebel...
~ what other energies can I call up now to collaborate with the creative and life-bringing aspects of my rebel... 


 Not so easy sometimes! Yet in this world of change we all inhabit, I've got a feeling my inner rebel will bring me insights that can make all the difference.

the Joy of Horse-farming

Lise after the morning milking. Early, early in the day! Photo credit: Patrick Barber, 2008

Found a blog which I must have known about 5 years ago - because I'm part of it. It surprised me while I was Googling references to Sweetwell Farm. I was trying to post this there, but didn't quite figure out that part, apparently!

Years ago, several of my dear ones and I lived together on a farm-school run by a Quaker couple in southern Oregon. Lise Hubbe, of Sweetwell Farm in Scio, OR, was one of us. A few years later several of us were re-united at a Quaker school on the north end of the Kootenay Lake in BC.  Life progressed and eventually five of us re-united again for a weekend at Sweetwell Farm in Oregon's Willamette Valley, where Lise has been living her passion - horse-farming.
Now the daughter of another one of us is interested in working with Lise for a university work-experience. Cycles and seasons, coming round once again. It's just like a Wendell Berry poem.

So here you are: Sweetwell Farm, a fine example of horse-farming - people I love doing sustainable farming - an inspiration to so many of us. 

Lise is running a two-row cultivator with two horses 
from her team of four. They are taking out the thistle 
from between rows of corn. Photo by Holly.

Milking at Sweetwell Farm; Painting by Rebecca Waterhouse, November, 2011

Shadows and Light

I've been hearing from friends who are puzzled as to why I would encourage others to check out The Hunger Games (see my Facebook post Saturday Mar 17, Tuesday Mar 20).  In case you're not familiar with it - this soon to be released film (made by Canada's Lionsgate), is based on the first book of a trilogy written for young adults, by Suzanne Collins. The story follows a young intelligent, thoughtful, courageous teen as she faces  oppression in her post-apocalyptic world. And yes, there's violence.

So what would draw me to read a post-apocalyptic story about violence and oppression?  Years ago, I read The Road, by Cormac McCarthy. Yeah, Gyllian, and why did you read that one? Well may you ask!

I had read previous books by McCarthy. I found his style, his characters, his themes satisfying and intriguing. This one gave me pause because it promised to be bleak but... on the cover one reviewer spoke of "the power of redemptive love".  I was hooked. 

And I read to the end because I wasn't willing to give up until I found that reviewer's light in the dark. It was powerful, haunting, and those images of a violent and cold-hearted future have lingered in my imagination ever since. So much so that I have regretted reading it!  I found no hope in The Road; for me the 'redemptive love' McCarthy wrote of was not enough to neutralize the horror of a future world, built on fear and violence, mainly bereft of compassion, tenderness, and generosity.

Thus in the last few years, I am magnetized to books that deal with a post-apocalyptic future AND give me hope. The Road did not.  I'm looking for that which will. I want hope.

I want visions of humanity managing to rise above our own frightened, grasping hearts, having the courage to love and care about others. I want to hear how we do have the courage to believe not only are we capable of being bright lights in the world... we are determined to choose to be the light in the face of fear, death, and destruction!


Today I'm off to the library to get a copy of the book - we shall see!

Flicker shows up again

Photo credit: Gyllian Davies             

Yesterday I was on my way to Portland from home up in the mountains of southeast BC. The sun shining, the sky electric blue, the air crisp enough to keep the snow from becoming instant slush. A great day, even if I was waaaayyyy later leaving than I meant to be. Driving along through the pine forests, I spotted a bird's little body by the road. Up where I live there's often those  dead animal bodies beside the road, vulnerable and final. Often I stop and bless them with tobacco, saying a prayer to help their spirits safely on their journey.

This time - snip-snap, instantaneous conversation inside my head: The noticer observed: "Little bird." The realist commented: "Not so little bird."  The timekeeper urged: "We're so behind; keep going!" The curious child wanted to know: "What was that!" 

It was the shaman who had the last word: "Go back now."  I (mostly) listen when the shaman speaks within me, so I turned around and drove back a half mile or so. 

Pulled over on the sandy verge under the Ponderosa pines. Not a soul to be heard or seen. Tall sentinels of trees, open forest floor, snow still covering the ground. Walked across the road - ah, sadness. A Red-Shafted Flicker. One of the most beautiful birds - such an amazing painting of feathers on its body. Graceful in flight, independent - not often seen in a crowd, always a welcome guest at my feeders. I can never get enough of admiring its beauty.

Photo credit www.wunderground.com  Amazing bird photos!

I bent down to look - not a wisp of breath or movement, and its little pink eyelids closed. Dang. "Baby, what happened to you?" I whispered as I picked it up. "So sorry, beautiful little one!" It was still warm. I felt like.... if I'd only arrived sooner maybe I could have protected it from the collision that likely caused its death. I tenderly wrapped it in a plastic bag and tucked it in my cooler in the back of my car. The dogs watched me with that odd mixture of patience and curiousity they display when I"m doing something they don't quite get! And off we went down the road.

And then something odd began to happen. I didn't notice it at first. But after a couple of hours driving - I could feel that flicker in the back of my car. And it felt like this... initially the sense of another energy presence in the car. Then... I knew it was the flicker. (please understand - I don't usually feel the energetic presence of other beings. Well, maybe my dogs...  well, maybe my friends...  but a bird?  hmmm)

For the next 8 hours as I drove... there was a constant gentle, enfolding of my body, an encircling experience of enough-ness, and a deep sense of being and feeling grounded and whole. Wow. Am I humbled? You bet! Do I wonder what this means? uh-huh. And what do I know? That I just have to wait, patiently, with open-hearted curiousity. Patience is not one of my stronger attributes! Perhaps the flicker will grab me by the nose with its beak and show me what may be already in plain sight! Nature is ever generous. I wait.

Loving the ones who try to protect me

A few weeks ago I listened to the forecast - rain. Rain! It's not supposed to rain in the mountains in February! "Yuck," says I. "Give me snow, beautiful snow." You know how they say - be careful what you ask for!

Got up the next morning and there it was - snow, about 4" or 10 cm. Yay!  I decided to get the shoveling done right away. Did it, all the steps (3 sets), the walks, the top of the driveway by the house, making enough room for my neighbour to bring in his tractor and plow me out. Cleared around the big gate too - wanted to make that easy for him to get it open. When he's got a pile of driveways to plow, he doesn't have time to waste messing with my iced-up gate...
An hour later, feeling virtuous, I headed back inside, knowing I was ready to drive out to the Shrove Tuesday pancake supper at the church that evening, where they'd be counting on my help.

Then it snowed some more. I wasn't really paying attention. Until I went outside with my gear, nightgown and toothbrush in my backpack - just in case I couldn't make it back up my hill later that night.  Oops! I really hadn't been paying attention. Now the snow was 8 inches deep in my access road. No way I was going anywhere! So I shoveled all over again, made my own pancake supper, and settled in for a cozy evening at home....  Secretly wondering - was I just being a wimp about taking on the deep snow in my access road?

The next day my neighbour laughed at me even thinking of trying to drive out. hmmm  -  another lesson in trusting my wise self. Yes, I really did know what made sense. I find it fascinating how many parts of me are ready to come up with "good reasons" for not listening to my own intuition, wisdom, gut-knowing. How old are these voices! Too old to align with who I am now. Still I know I need to honour them - in my childhood they were what kept me safe from adult censure, scary situations, and all kinds of unknown dangers. Honour them and let them know - that was then and this is now. In the "now" I am the one who makes the world safe for me. I've got it covered.

Tree Root poem....

 

Tree Root

I celebrate this perfect morning
lit like the inside of a pearl
with satin shell gleaming, container
of ocean-light here in the dripping mountain.
We've lost our centre, reliable weather,
predictable seasons, but the trees
anchor us deep, carrying our hearts,
their precious cargo, down with the roots
to the dark centre.
They show us the true ground of being,
the source of our living and prune away
the dross of our silly selves.
Re-formed and made new, glowing
with life we too can raise our faces
into the breeze, scenting out
the shifting path and welcoming
the winds of change, this sea-change
this earth becoming.

                                   © 02.15.2010     Gyllian Davies

After a day of feeling stuck in my own resistance, I remember this - I get to choose how I perceive what I'm up to. What a relief. Suddenly what had previously felt so difficult resolves, like murk settling in the water allowing it to become clear and lovely. The tasks that had loomed and glowered at me from the corner become effortless and even a pleasure to carry out. Magic!

Here is the gem I carry away from this day - in any one moment there is something to be grateful for. True kindness is me choosing to see the abundance. And when I do, I find the source of it is within me. It is my eyes and my heart that have chosen to see and recognize goodness, and to reflect that back to me. My own actions, gestures, thoughts - no matter how puny or insignificant they may seem - have the potential to be perceived as kindness and abundance. I get to bestow that kindness and abundance on me. And oh how my world lightens up when I do so!

We all have this capacity to gift to ourselves.  Perhaps the trick of it is to be willing to receive. To believe that joy and beauty belong in our lives.

In my "wiser" moments I understand that once again I have been gifted a chance to release more of my scarcity thinking and to step into believing this:

Always and always - there is enough! 

No-where in Creation is there a rule 

that says we must suffer,

so go ahead - choose Joy.