Lighting the world...

Within me is a love song. It sings of loving winter, loving the snow, and especially loving the moon when it rises so fat and beautiful over the mountain and the whole dark world begins to glow!

And then I ask myself - how can I make the world glow too? What's mine to do, my calling, that place, (as Frederic Buechner describes it), “where my deep joy meets the world's deep need”... I love Buechner’s naming of the Holy at work within us. How generous is the Holy of Holies that our life-work can become known to us by the deep joy it elicits in our entire beings!

For me, this past year has been a time of greater and greater clarity about my own life-work. Urgency grows in me for the well-being of the earth, for our connection with this generosity of a planet that we lucked out to exist on! ‘Course it wasn’t really luck since there was the Creator behind it all, yet there is within me the sense of luck, of unlooked for blessing – would that be ‘grace’, maybe...?

Having received this incredible vulnerable gift of a human body to inhabit, and the equally incredible and equally vulnerable gift of a beautiful planet to dwell upon, I am continually seized with the intense desire to respond in kind. For me, this means offering retreats where people get to come and reconnect with that child’s delight we all once knew.

Remember what treasure it was when a day stretched before you with unlimited possibilities? When there was the prospect of climbing trees, playing in dirt or sand or snow, collecting rocks or leaves or insects, building roads or forts or faery grottos….. That was you living intimately with the earth. That was you in deep relationship with our beautiful planet. And that is what I dangle in front of people’s noses and hearts. Remember that feeling? Wasn’t it grand!

And the great thing is it’s not something that belongs only to children. It belongs to you as an adult too. So I dangle it not to torment or taunt, but to invite and affirm. This is your heritage, your inheritance, your legacy. And it is waiting for you to reclaim it, waiting for your home-coming.

We are all prodigal daughters and sons here on the earth and our home-coming will be celebrated because it will mean the end of neglecting the planet. It will mean the end of pretending we haven’t noticed the consequences of what we name ‘civilization’. It will mean the end of standing by, helplessly, as we see climate change accelerating.

When we love something or someone openly, we step into a place of accountability. When we have a relationship of unconcealed intimacy, we choose to be known for who and what we love. When we allow our hearts to be pierced with tenderness and enchantment, we will protect what we love with all we have.

I would. Wouldn’t you?

Copenhagen - are they listening?

Pulling the blanket closer
trying to stay warm.
That doesn't work - ah! Only
a single layer. I refold to
double and notice
my night-gown is inside out.
The morning is bleak, clouded.
On the ground the skiff of snow
not thick enough to insulate
sleeping beasties in their tunnels
or rootlets of plants. The mercury drops,
the wind licks, nervous and
cruel, catching every corner.
We wait, all of us - earth,
plants, animals, humans -
wait to find out
what will come next,
wait to see if the foolish humans
have turned the world
inside-out. Or not.
And whether they'll
have the heart and wisdom
to put it right.

Gyllian Davies, Dec 2009.

Living on our earth!

Happy 3/4 Moon Day!
Did you see it last night where you live? Maybe a clear sky with the moon reigning over a realm of stars.... Maybe peeking a moment from behind some illuminated clouds... Or perhaps hidden totally from view and existing only in your imagination and memory.... do you know which it was?

Do you know which direction it was tilted? ~ cupping the light, holding the waters of night and mystery with a relaxed open-ness, a metaphor of trust... There's enough for everyone,... there's enough for my needs,... I am enough. There's a relieving thought!

Or was the lovely 3/4 moon tipped towards you, pouring abundance into the velvet night? And did you feel the night air against your cheek, a soft brush of an invisible presence, light as a kiss on your forehead.....

Maybe the wind was passing through where you live, grabbing your hair or any loose clothing, pressing your clothes against your skin, searching for a way into your core. What about rain - was it wet? misty? drenching? What did it feel like? What did you feel like?

How often we get caught up in the 'human' world, forgetting to remember our physical body that inhabits this physical earth. But what happens when you stop for a moment, release all thought, and reach out with your senses to feel what it's like to be you in this human body at this very moment....

I have always been deeply moved by Mary Oliver's poem Wild Geese. Here is an available doorway into this sensual world...
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
(http://tinyurl.com/yh7veuo for the full poem)
What could be simpler than that!

So I invite you ~ go out and look for the moon tonight. Feel the air. Taste it. Smell the fragrance of wetness or coldness. Give your body that moment it longs for, of BE-ing an earth creature!

small poems

Little tiny feet
patter across the edges of
who I am. Sometimes the brush
of a wing in landing, the slight
weight on my shoulder, or a wisp of
warm breath. Here. Gone. Before
I catch on. They attend me,
solicitous, constant. I glow
inside the luminous shell of
their tender care.


©  GyllianDavies 11.25.09

DANCING WITH THE SHADOW

The retreat I led last weekend was called "THE TREE OF LIGHT, Dancing in Your Heart". Naturally, since we called the Light, the Shadow showed up too! People came back from one of the drumming journeys so frustrated with the monkey mind voices that showed up, voices of self-criticism, voices reminding of un-done tasks, voices that wouldn't be quiet.... There it was - that pesky Shadow! Who invited that one, and how do we usher it out of the room - NOW!

As I reflected on this unwelcome guest I began to notice the rich gifts that it brought - if we were willing to receive them. I noticed how our cultural default is to push it away, to see it as distracting, sometimes destructive, maybe even dangerous.But what happens if we respond to our shadow parts with affection, with thoughtful curiousity... What happens if we turn to them, saying with a kind voice, "You really do have yourself in a knot about this! What's the feeling that's fueling all these words?" And then, after listening carefully to that out-pouring, what would we hear if we asked "What's the true source of all these feelings?"

Sometimes these parts of ourselves may be stunned to mute astonishment that we are actually listening to them from a place of respect. Sometimes there will be an outpouring of babble that has to be waited through, till the essence emerges from underneath, like the golden amber of the ale or the fragrant dark liquid of the espresso rising from under the dispersing froth and foam. AND it matters that this frothy foam is not being "waded" through, but waited through. In the waiting there is a deep trust that essential truth will emerge. Whatever is there, waiting to be noticed, listened to, may be an essential facet in the gleaming jewel of our own self-knowledge and wisdom.

So I invite you - the next time one of those shadowy voices begins to mutter (or even shout) inside your head, step back. Be your own witness and take a moment to ask a few thoughtful questions. And as you do that include this one: "How do you serve? What's the job you do for ______ (insert your name here)?" You may receive some light-casting, heart-melting answers. I know I have.

Who knew!

I've been noticing that the expression "Who knew!" expressed in a tone of wonder is like the beginning of a psalm, like an invitation to celebrate and be awed by the grace of God. "Who knew!... only you, O Holy One." It reminds me of a poem by W.O. Mitchell, that beloved Canadian writer:

"Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I
But when the trees
Bow down their heads
The wind is passing by"

And so nature teaches us to honour and love the Divine, Source of All Life.

Waking this morning I realize that once again I'd forgotten I'm not in charge of everything. Which had put me into a major state of effort, where I succumbed to an uncomfortable bout of dis-trust. I notice when I'm in that state of dis-trust, I fall prey to second-guessing myself. Every decision is like crossing a mine-field as I strive ceaselessly for the perfect choice, finding no assurance or peace of mind anywhere.

But... when I remember to trust, to be Trust, the path changes. With the return of trust comes connection with my call, the big archetypal power of my purpose, the invitation to step into something bigger than me, where I can be of service to the great flowing river of life. When I step out on that clear ground, released once again from that insidious soul-eating fog (hallelujah!), my choices once again soar, fueled by enthusiastic creativity and passionate love for the planet.

Sounds pretty good, eh? Believe me, it FEELS really good. BE-ing with the rhythms of the earth, moving with the tides, winds, the seasons, is the deepest experience I've had of harmony and joy.

Being available to the muse or ....

By creating poems, I write myself, little by little, into the light, along my path. As long as I remember to get out of the way, to get out of the effort of trying hard to make "a good one", then the poem is free to lead me into a new world of sight.
Sometimes I'll find myself, somewhere in the interior of the poem, critiquing word choices, direction taken, point of view... Then it's ever so important to whisper softly to that inner critic-witness "Not now. This isn't your place or time", then gently, almost absently, turn away from that evaluating, analytical voice. Turn away in order to once more immerse myself in the voice of the poem, calling it out with respect and love, understanding that humility, faithfulness, and obedience are my best chance for receiving potential gifts of insight new vision, awakened understanding.
So many parts of me want to be included - the wordsmith, the prophet, the radical, the healer... Sometimes it can be such a challenge to let go of being in charge! Who's writing this anyway! Something bigger than me, if I can be wise enough and hungry enough to allow that to be so. It's a matter of Trust.

And when I step into that realm of Trust, whether in writing a poem or hearing my dreams, whether coaching one-on-one or leading workshops, then the journey deepens, slows, becomes rich and powerful. I find the waters closing over my head and a smile dusting my face as joy and curiousity claim my heart. Each arrival is a new world beginning.

Falling as a Pear

I decide it is time.
The pears are ripe, my friends
await those sweet white wedges
swimming in their syrup bath.
With tree-climbing shoes laced
and picking bag slung over shoulder
I head out. Pulling myself
up into the first crotch I remember,
(my hands complaining of the rough bark)
- as children we liked the apple better...
the trunk smoother, more friendly,
the branches not so willing to grab
our hair, our clothing. This time
it takes fierceness and physics
to get myself up there.
I liked strength better but then I'm up and oh
the leaves are soft with life,
a bower of green, laced
and ruched against the wide blue arc
of sky, the sun trails warm fingers across my face, my arms, whispering
little love songs in my ears...
Eager, I gather those green weights
into my cupped hands, into the heart of my bag.

One last pear, suspends itself alone
crown jewel at the end of a branch.
Reaching out to its beauty I forget
who I am and find my weight slipping
then dropping slow-fast, aborted flight
and at long last slam
into the ground. Planted thus
in my wholeness
I lie looking up to see laid over me
green beauty, blue blessing.

©  Gyllian Davies  Sept 15, 2009.

Slipping into Fall

Ah - the blessing of these beautiful fall days, the fruit ripening in
luscious abundance on the trees, the sun rolling everything from the
earth into its warmth and generosity, the bears, deer, and coyotes
munching up the fruit-feast that has fallen to the ground. The earth
sings to us on days like this if we will only listen, she is our
friend, our mother, our child, our island home.... Isn't it good to be
alive in a body on days of wine-tinted light, amber and golden,
rich with a summer's worth of heat! Clear with a sky's pouring of
blue arcing joy! Magical with the peace of animals feasting and
filling in these last days before the long dark nights arrive.... what
can we say but - thank you!

Re-membering/re-conceiving adolescence

Back Then

Outside the window, morning sun
glances and glints on the green tears
of the weeping willow. Those long
sinuous branches sway languidly
in the morning breeze that slides
down the valley, cradled
between the mountains. The lime
green of the leaves placed just so
on each golden branch, and
behind, that blue backdrop of
mountainside, dense with pines, cedars, fir...

I remember... I was sixteen, writing a poem on
the green willow and blue mountains,
the ones outside the house I grew up in.
Pierced by the beauty, what else
could I do but seek the clean words and
ancient bones, the release
of exquisite pain, as the terrible joy
of being seized by life
flooded my adolescent systems
beyond repair.

09.03.09 Gyllian Davies

Beginning anew!

After a summer of focusing on hospitality in the truest Benedictine* sense, my bed & breakfast season is winding down, which allows me to resume my morning practices - including writing! What a GREAT RELIEF it is to befriend my journal again. In the quiet sanctuary of my bedroom, the clamour of the day not yet acknowledged, I ramble and explore the back roads of my own being. It's not that I've been living superficially all summer as I cooked, cleaned, shopped, made beds... no, I still pondered on all kinds of questions and observations that arose from encounters with human guests, animals, (both the wild and the friendly kind) and the earth beneath our feet. It's more that without that writing time I didn't have a chance to hold up my thoughts to the Light and see where the shadows distorted my perceptions. I was less likely to notice those times and places where I forgot to be kind to myself. By not writing poems - which is like making myself available as a voice for angels and faeries - I didn't get to learn the secrets of the earth that were unfolding before my nose. And it was harder to remember that I too am a creature of light, a sacred dancer, a singer of heart songs, and a healer of the earth. Yes, it's been a long summer, beautiful, fecund, and mysterious. I celebrate the generous abundance of it and I rejoice out loud that I am now returned to my morning practices, that place of a well-fed soul and spiritual yoga!


* Benedictine hospitality asks us to treat all guests as holy, as messengers from the deep, as precious and as a blessing by their presence.... Joan Chittister describes Benedictine hospitality as “unboundaried hearts.” See http://tinyurl.com/ln6f8u

the Wise Language of Metaphor

As people inhabiting this planet we often get caught up in
responding, problem-solving, and taking action from our own ever-
ready minds. They are so busy and so full of good ideas! Only trouble
is - often our minds get disconnected from our deeper purpose for
being here, from listening to our hearts' desire, and walking our
soul's true path.

That's one reason I love SoulCollage®, as it offers a way to listen
into and be guided by the deeper parts of ourselves. It's a way to
step out of the patterns that might not be serving us, and step
through into a new world, a place of healing and wholeness where we
can act from all the parts of ourselves in conscious choice. Part of
why it works is that we step away from language. Instead we start in
a place of image, feelings, metaphor, hunches... and nothing has to
make sense!. Such a relief to let go of being sensible, reasonable,
competent and coherent for a little respite...

Then we listen to parts of ourselves that often don't get heard, and
feel that deep sense of relief and joy those parts share with us as
we finally STOP and hear their story. This explains why people love
their cards so much!

Animals waiting for us...

Last Tuesday the U.S. House Energy and Commerce Committee passed the "American Clean Energy and Security Act". Which might seem like cause to rejoice, but according to a coalition of 15 environmental groups, the process was co-opted by oil and coal lobbyists. The loopholes in the bill will actually encourage and promote further degradation of the planet and accelerate the process of climate change. (For more info go here: http://tinyurl.com/l7sx3p)

So my question becomes: how do I convey the urgency of our situation without spooking people into a paralysis of fear or hopelessness?

Part of an answer came to me this morning in this poem:

Animal Saviours

What will happen
when you meet your animal guide -
wise companion, bright guardian,
anchor to the land, initiator of your
earth-dwelling rites..... More
than you bargained or asked for?
They want to save you, bless you into
saving the earth. It seems obvious -
we all need a place to live on.
I know, it's so hard to change
a life that fits so well... but
the change has begun without you,
is already gathering speed and by the time
you can no longer continue in the life
you know and love, it will be too late
to stop the train of derailment. You're needed
now. Prophet, visionary or not - crisis
is upon us. Let these gentle animal-ones
carry you through the dark.
We will stand together, pointing ourselves
towards that distant flicker of light.

Gyllian Davies 05.31.09

What's your strategy for keeping yourself connected to joy in a world threatened by climate change?

Litany

Here comes the new day,
arriving sudden, transforming
the blue world of pre-dawn
into a golden bath of light.
Up in the pines, the jays creak
at each other, while down here
in the white froth of the orchard
hummingbirds and bees stir
the petals ceaselessly, chanting
hymns of intoxication,
a litany of delight.

Gyllian Davies 05.24.09

Spring Greens!

My friend, Diana, suggested I take a spring tonic, making a smoothie from wild greens, water, and fruit. This is really outside my usual world but my body responded with a clear "yes!" Which is how I found myself, with said friend, protected by long sleeves and leather gloves, harvesting the young shoots of stinging nettles.  

The day was fresh, the new grass springing up so green, trees breaking out in that wrinkled tenderness of first leaves. I was having a fine time until one of those stinging nettle leaves - I swear it! - jumped off the stem and made a dive into the top of my glove. One leaf. I scrambled to remove it and then stood still, seized with the distress of those stinging welts beginning. "What do I do!", I heard my own cry. My friend David knows how to find Yellow Dock, a plant antidote he says always grows nearby. But he and his plant-savviness were hundreds of miles away. Diana seized a handful of couch grass. "Here, chew this and stick it on. I'll look for something..."  

I obediently stuffed the grass in my mouth, feeling like a horse, and began to chomp thinking "I can't believe I'm doing this! Is this what comes from hanging out with horses?"  To my surprise it almost tasted good - spring greens! - and once I smeared the masticated green mass on my screeching skin there was instant peace in the land of nerve endings. And the nettle smoothie? Delicious!

It's an invitation, isn't it? Step outside the box of habitual thinking. Where is that invitation coming in your life? Did you say "Yes!" yet?

Grab Hold

This morning I grab the bull
by the horns and discover
this is no sweaty massive monster
sewing carnage wherever it turns.
Instead
I’ve grabbed onto the horns of
a yearling deer or maybe
a nanny goat, gazing back at me
from startled eyes, alarmed
by my violent actions, and hoping
I’ll soon return to peaceable ways.
All they want is to keep grazing,
munching their way from one green
clump of grass to the next, weaving
between the birch trees, in and out
of shadow-dappled light, following
the way of ease and comfort.
A mouthful of grass in the sunlight,
the scent of Spring frolicking in the air,
the quiet hum of earth, bees, birds, and gophers
living the Way of Life and Goodness –
simple pleasures, abundant blessing.


Gyllian Davies 5.06.09

Water - gift of life

As the rains have been pouring down in unusual abundance in this
South-east corner of B.C., I've been struck deep in my heart by the
news of 1500 farmers committed suicide in G province in India
because they had no water to grow their crops. (See post by Deepak
Chopra @ http://tinyurl.com/qbfftw )
What does it mean to not be silent about this? And as another soul on
the planet, blessed, for no reason I can understand, to be born in a
part of the world that's water-rich - how can I practically respond
to this tragedy?
Each morning I give thanks in the shower for water. I conserve with
all kinds of personal practices (flow constrictors on the showers,
low flush toilets, not running water thoughtlessly) but what I want
to know is this - HOW can I make a difference to the people of India
where water is a luxury instead of a basic human right?

Horses as our teachers

...A compelling conversation this morning about working with horses as our coaching partners. The presenter, Rachel Dexheimer, shared this thought: "the horses are calling us; they are turning up the volume. If you are hearing such a call from them, never under-estimate it!" If you'd like to know more about Rachel and her work with horses go to

http://www.equispire.net/

This alert about the horses reminded me of returning from accompanying my dear friend, Joseph, on his dieing journey. When I came to pick up my dogs at my friend's I had to park near the barn because of a truck blocking the drive. As I got out of the car their horse, who'd never paid me any attention before, came running down to the edge of the paddock. I acknowledged the honour of this greeting by going over and blowing softly in her face. Then she reached over the fence and ever so quietly and gently laid her forehead against mine. Did I feel completely blessed? You bet! Was this a call to me from the horse? I'm still pondering on this one!

Debut in Winnipeg

I've been wondering this morning - how do I reach people in Winnipeg with no mailing list... And then I remember how - TRUST. Wonderful connections with enthusiastic and helpful people. Spontaneous conversations with delightful strangers. The planet is waiting for all of us to find each other, to discover the ways in which we are all connected - what are we waiting for! Mary Oliver asks us this:

"Tell me - what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"