June and Wholeness

June. Maybe, most people would not associate June with rebirth. For me it's the month I was born, month of the pearl and the rose, month of days growing longer, world growing lusher -  at least that's how it is where I live! - and...it turns out to also be a time when I pick up and reclaim important parts of my life. Those parts that somehow slipped out of my fingers, somewhere back down the path of my life-journey. You know how that is?     

One moment, with great care and tenderness, I'm holding in my hands a precious piece of what I'm here on the planet to do. And then, 'suddenly', it's weeks or months later, and I realize I've misplaced my precious piece. Missing in action, lost to the demands of a turbulent and unrelenting world. So what to do?

I look till I find it. I look with my hunger; I look with a fierce desire to become whole. to be one with myself. I look so I can live out loud my Vision of who I am - even when I'm not sure what my Vision really means.

And in doing so, I come home to myself. I begin to remember why I'm here, why it matters, why I love my life. Yummm.

June - a good month.

Hummingbird Stories

The Relationship Begins... 

A few years ago when summer rolled around and the flowers were all in bloom, I decided I no longer needed to feed the hummingbirds. Didn't they have lots of flowers to sup from? No sense being redundant, right? Wrong!

Intelligence shines forth!

After a few days of empty feeders I was letting the dogs out for their pre-breakfast pee one morning, when suddenly there was a very loud buzzing right next to my head. Ackh!!! I ducked, thinking "Hornet! Big one! Help!" Only it wasn't a hornet. It was a hummingbird. 

Having buzzed me once to get my attention, it then went over to the feeder - buzzzz - and realizing I was only a slow human and might not get it right away, came back to me again - buzzzz - and returned to the EMPTY feeder, again - buzzzz. Finally, because it wanted to make sure I really got the message, it did this a third time. Ahhh - I got it indeed. "Fill the feeder!" So I did.

Keeping the Communication Channels Open...

Sometimes a battle, sometimes a ballet.

Since then I've kept the feeder going all summer long, and last summer added a second feeder to alleviate crowding and battles at the other one. I love to watch them, and make sure to keep those feeders full, especially on cold cloudy days. I've hung one by the kitchen window, which is at right angles to my desk window. This allows me to watch them from two vantage points. It also turns out to be very convenient for the little guys to let me know when the feeder is empty - again! With one quick L-shaped swoop, they can go to both windows with the message that I'm slacking and they've noticed! They don't all do that.  Perhaps they've deputized one to be the liaison with the human (that would be me) - I can't tell them apart to know whether that's true. But it seems they all know me. When I'm out on the deck they fly very close to me as they come and go.

It Runs in the Family

My father used to keep feeders going too. He said once he got a hummingbird to land on his finger. "Wow - how did you do that!" I asked him. He said he held his finger up by the feeder and waited. I say to myself "Patient old man!" When I told him how impressed I was, he responded, "It was only a young feller; he didn't know any better." Love my dad!

Integrating the Flock into the Pack...

The other day I heard a thumping on the deck. I looked out, to see what mischief Bayley, my standard poodle, was into. Yikes - a hummingbird on the deck, brought down by my "intrepid hunter". I banged on the window. He jumped guiltily - we've been having conversations about leaving the birds alone... My neighbour, Ron, suggested persuading Bayley that hummingbirds, fawns, and all were to be protected, not attacked. Tell him they are part of our pack. This time, I held him by the collar so I'd have control, and took him back out to where the tiny critter was lying on the deck, wings spread wide, unmoving. 

I leaned over the hummingbird, cupping my hand over it with love, crooning to it. "See?" I told Bayley, "We love the humming birds. We want no harm to come to them." And at that moment the "dead" hummingbird flew away. Ah - a miraculous healing!

A visit from the ravens...

This morning while I was on a coaching call, the dogs got into mischief trying to catch a chipmunk on my deck. It was hiding behind a pile of pots, barbecue ashes waiting to be dealt with, a patio umbrella - you get the picture! Exterior clutter. mmm-mmm....

In their enthusiasm to catch that rascal, the dogs had broken the bag of ashes. I had no choice but to clean up that corner of the deck right away. Dang it! Tucked away behind the pile I discovered a small container of fish fertilizer - all that was left to me after the bears enjoyed it last fall. Some critter had chewed a hole in the corner of it, which I discovered as I picked it up and gobs of it splatted on the deck. Double dang!

"Hmmm - something smells delicious!"

Making the best of it, I scraped up the gobs and put them in the watering can, added water to make it less appealing to my dogs, then put the watering can up on a chair so they couldn't sample it. You know they would if they could! The raspberries I transplanted a few days ago would be glad of it. Then I headed back to my desk.

"Yes, definitely worth stopping by for

About ten minutes later the ravens arrived. I love their majestic beaks, their incredible size, their glossy feathers and scruffy necks. I'm not so fond of them snacking on the song birds at my feeders! But this time they were coming for fish cocktails. So funny to watch them. The male hopped onto the chair, braced himself with one foot up against the can, and sipped his fill. (I did not get my camera out fast enough to capture this.) Then the female, a bit smaller, dropped down from the apple tree and perched right on the handle. Perfect placement for drinking as much as she wanted!

To give you an idea of how huge they are - this is a full size watering can, 13" from the base to the top of the handle. In my dream journeys they land on my shoulder; some day one of them will decide I'm trustworthy enough to do so in waking reality!

* I have never yet managed to get a photo of them from outside. Until I do there will be the blurry effects from shooting through the window.

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.