Blessed

              Blessed

I sink my roots ever deeper

into this land, this mountainside

of old orchards and pine forest, 

this small portion of earth,

rock-face, snowberry, saskatoon,

coyote, raven, chickadee, deer.

In the quiet before dawn, after

that noisy bird chorus of celebration - 

another day - oh joyous miracle! - after

light bathes and inflames the peaks,

after the fire settles to work, warming

the house, soft creaks of pipe, snap of fire,

and before the sun climbs down

to my house nestled in frosty meadow

I wait. And then

it comes

soft as breath of a lover waking

the sleeping beloved, gentle as warm water

added to a cooling bath, tender as a father's 

kiss on the fontanel of new-born babe...

Little by little the room expands,

light tiptoes in and then blooms

'til it breaks open a flood

the room golden in a wash of

sun and morning, and outside a blue sky

high and delicious. And oh, this explosion 

of bird bodies, stitching that pristine

arch, welcoming the shimmer of life!

                                        © 03.24.2013    Gyllian Davies

Messages worth paying attention to...

What an amazing ten days has just passed... I've definitely been living in the realm of the Big Journey. 

It began with a deep conversation with the Bishop after church. Later, that evening,I headed out to a friend's. As I was going down my outside steps in the dark, I was savouring how well I could see by moonlight, plus the ambient light reflected from the snow all around. So bright I had no need for a flashlight.

The next thing I knew, as I stepped onto the bottom step - whoosh! - I went down. I had chopped the ice off that step the day before. But while I'd been gone during this day, temperatures rose, snow on the deck melted, dripped down onto that step... As evening came, the mercury began its slow drop into the freeze of night, and the ice formed. By moonlight the step looked the same as when I had cleared it. Not! Down I crashed.

The next morning I went downstairs with some files to put away. To my astonishment I found myself sloshing through water. What on earth!?!  Turns out the hot water tank had given up the ghost. Hmmm

First the old towels laid everywhere to sop up the wet.Then, back upstairs to go look up high-efficiency tanks on the internet. At which point... my computer crashed. With a terse message on the screen that is had zero memory left, it announced "Good-bye!", and that was that.  

I was the recipient of messages from the Universe:
Get in contact with the GROUND...-
Immerse myself in the WATERS...
And finally, close off from the outer world, the global connection of the internet, and go inside for my answers. All of them! 
TURN INWARD...

I got the message.

the blessings of physicality

This morning as I’m pumping the bellows to coax my neglected fire back to life and heat, I muse on the blessing of physicality...  

Often as I use my sweet bellows, I think of my parents. I’m sure my mum found these very bellows on one of their trips. My dad rarely used the fireplace after my mum died, but the  the image of him in his favourite chair, fireplace and bellows nearby, is clear and strong.  

Using my body in partnership with the bellows, I draw the memory of those two people into my body with the pumping, savouring the connection between the times they were used by my parents, and this time, here and now as I use them. Though they never spent time with me in this house, I feel their presence in the room.

Other times as I use the bellows, it’s my friend Sheilagh that pops into my heart, and her delight when I found her a set of bellows too. The next time I talked with her, she was so excited about how much easier it was to deal with her reluctant wood stove. As I pump the fire back to life I think of her, engaged in the same task on the other side of the mountain, and I savour our friendship and our shared pleasure with this simple machine. Yum.

The blessing of physicality comes again every Sunday in the closing prayer at our little Anglican church. Each week, as I speak the words, I think of a dear cousin, who also loves that prayer, saying those same words, several hours earlier out on the prairies. Feeling our shared response to the prayer, the words pour even more sweetly from my mouth...

            “Glory to you, oh Lord,

             whose power working in us

             can do infinitely more

             than we could ask or imagine...” 

It all comes back to these wonderful bodies we've been given with which to live our lives, and to do infinitely more than we could ask or imagine - isn't it true? When I trained as a Live Your Vision® facilitator, as part of the process we drew out of ourselves a spanking new version of our own Vision and Purpose. The words of mine spark and sizzle in me every time I speak them...

My purpose is to illuminate, cherish and celebrate 

the shimmering gift of Life and the sacred body of Earth.

And how better to cherish Earth’s sacred body than with these blessings linked to my  body memories!

Remembering joy and curiousity!

It's been a long time since I've posted here...  Lately I realized that I had lost touch with the joy of writing and got tangled up in writing something "worthwhile". I'm not sure how I thought I could tell if it was worthwhile or not... the only reliable way I've found is by the singing of my heart: "Yes! Like that!" But I'd forgotten about listening to my heart. I'd turned away from the pure pleasure of putting words together in a way that pleases me, gives me a sense of peace and certainty...    

Instead I was giving credence to old stories that somewhere out there is a critic I need to please. I have a sneaking suspicion that critic is named Perfection! Well, I've been here before. What writer hasn't. Learning how to turn away from that critical voice is, well... critical!    What really serves my soul and the work I'm about is to point myself instead at the beauty of the world and my heart's response to it. And there it is - the real truth waiting for me, intriguing, constantly changing, sometimes challenging, and always worth

listening to with my big self.

Once again I get it - that place where "counting" my blessings, allowing myself to exist in a state of grace, seeing the world with delight and curiousity, that is my doorway into joy and celebration. I'm so glad to be back.

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.