Solstice Shift: The Ritual of Awareness

A new season of the year has begun. Did you notice? We took time last night to be outside and feel the excitement of the shift. We saw the last light of Spring and welcomed the first light of Summer as the western sky was still illumined by the sun that sat less than an hour before. We were silly. We took selfies. We opened our hearts to what is yet to come even though it is the unknown, but our intention was that we were welcoming more Good, more Joy, more Life and more Love.

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The ritual of recognizing or honoring the incoming new season gives us a marker… a line in the sand as to an awakening of shift. It is also an allowing of change while being present in the now. And, by making it a point to become conscious of presence and of our intention, it becomes a wand of sorts. Our thoughts, intentions, and beliefs go out like seeds… and that we can control. We assert or declare, like the wave of a wand, that which we what to come into our lives. And, instead of resisting what we don’t want, which has its own metaphysical responses, we release what no longer works for us, what no longer brings joy, or what no longer nourishes us to become a greater version of our self.

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Intending something is to be coupled with action. In practicing purposeful intention setting, we also learn what is ours to do and what is ours to allow the Universe to do. Each day we can ask what is something we can do to take a another step into our desires, into our Good. The End result or the HOW is left to Source to manage. In taking steps that nourish us each day, we allow Source to show us the next step and guide us in ways we could not think of if we are trying to micromanage the “hows” and “whens.”

Even though last night was Summer Solstice, it spills into today and tomorrow as we will also have the same number of minutes of light. In this, the earth has not yet begun its return tilt towards the next season. Take time to notice. Sit Image may contain: one or more peoplein the stillness for a bit today and tomorrow and ask yourself, “what it is that I desire to lean into?” Where would I like to shift and welcome into my next expression of my perfect Self? Plant that seed and in that, it will be as if you are waving your wand… casting your word out into that which is greater than you to act upon as you do what is yours to do in the present moment.

Happy Solstice,

Sue

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Observing Resistance to Winter

Late Autumn and Winter in the Northern Hemisphere brings with it the illusion that the days are shorter and the belief that there is not enough time to do all we want to accomplish. When I get home after the end of my work day, the darkness Early.Winter.Lightingdrives me inside where the house is warm and the lights are ambient. It triggers the sensation that the whole day is over and that it is time to wind down and tuck myself in for the evening. I observe my resistance. I notice that this time of year changes the amount of activity in my life. Yes, there are still errands to run, the job, the chores about the home, etc. But I feel that the creative, break-me-out-of-my-routine activities become less. That inner-bear wants to scurry home to hibernate as this cycle of the season gets underway with the titling of our planet that shortens our exposure to the light of the sun.

As an observer of life, I do see that there are natural cycles that flow from one into Early.Winter.at.Lakeanother as the seasons go from spring to summer and from autumn to winter. The plants do not resist. They drop their leaves willingly and their growth slows down. The squirrels in my back yard also change their habits. They gather nuts and seeds from the trees that line the creek beyond my fence and their playful presence diminishes for a few months. The neighborhood is also quiet as the after dinner walks and curbside basketball games have been replaced by indoor activities. We take shelter.

It is true that, with the nature of seasons, winter tends to bring a time of reflection and slowing down; an ending of sorts so as to prepare us for the new beginnings that come with the arrival of spring. It is a time of nurturing and review. Inner work tends to take place, if we permit it, as well as the process of closure that comes at the end of a year.

Yet, there is still something inside of me that earns for the feeling of longer days. Time has not changed. There are still the same number of hours and I long to be active and not succumb to the slowing down of things. It is true that we as humans have our own cycles and that we ebb and flow as we traverse changes in our lives. Early.Winter.SkyBut I am not desirous of conforming to the sheltering effect that winter brings. My life desires expression. My body desires activity. I earn for connection that is beyond cyber chats and video links. My urge to touch life as it is happening is alive and pressing! Therefore, I look to this new day and position myself to do something that brings forth greater expression, expansion, and vibrancy to my mind, body, and my relationship to all that surrounds me. And… I will also stay open to what winter may bring for she is knocking on my door. I choose to open my heart to her, to observe what it is I need to know, where I need to release resistance, and how I can become present in the midst of this change in seasons.

Observing what is,

Sue

Observation Adjusted a.k.a. A Little Camping Will Wake You Up!

Hues.of.lightI watched the hues of light form, from my window, as dawn came near. It was the most quiet time here at the campground. The waves pounded the shore to the point I felt their energy, the compression of their weight with the release of each wave. There are those moments that are so serene, that time stops and breathing and staring into the beauty is all I can do. And I did. Some hours before, I also stared out this same window. The stars shone brightly and the wind had calmed to allow me to open the window for fresh air. Looking due east I saw flashes of light. I was puzzled in how this could be as it was clear above me. Only light fog hovered over the land briefly, yet it is not here this morning.

In the quiet of my space I made coffee and stood to feel the breeze come through one window to the other. Alive! I turned off the fire from under the pot just before the whistle. Steam filled the cup as I poured slowly and stirred. Bliss… the smell of coffee while camping. That dark elixir that appeals to this writer’s heart. Settling back in to the warmth of the covers, the campground began to stir.

Dogs and children become restless as it gets lighter. Families come out of their campers and tents, squinting at the brightness. The day has begun. Movement. The scent of campfires. The sound of toys and things. Play and chatting. It is a village of sorts and I think about what it may have been like to live in a village type of atmosphere where seclusion is not the experience, but that you hear and see and communicate to your neighbors as soon as you step outside the door. There is still some sense of separation at a campground. Each camper is here for a different reason. Some to relax, others to give their kids an experience, while others are here because they made reservations months ago and it is just the going and doing of it because it was paid for or because there is an urge for the unknown.

One thing about this trip is I got sleep while I was here. It is good to slow down aMoon through the window bit and purposefully be somewhere different to adjust my patterns, think different thoughts and spend time on my soul. That is what this has been for me. Sometimes getting away takes effort and planning and staying home is just easier. But, I am seeing that if I want to get something done, have something change, be somewhere else, the effort is less obstructive than the stagnation of remaining where I am. Wondering whether or not I should do something takes the magic out of the moment. If I feel it… do it. The idea did not come to me just to think about it alone. The creative seed is planted for the purpose of growth and expression and the expansion of Life Itself through me and as me. I was not given breath just to ponder the breath, but to allow it to thrust me forward into the next movement of this dance I am participating in. As long as I have breath I am to be unfolding.

Ganesh mantra came to me while walking on the beach yesterday and as it did, I thought about where I am and the propulsion of where I am going… the desires in my heart the activities I participate in. I see that I have come far, learned much and done much. But I am not done! I am still discovering and still finding shackles that need to be released. I hold the keys and I have the freedom to release myself into wide open spaces. Ganesh is all about removing obstacles and releasing. I think this trip has stirred up my thinking regarding this;  to “walk through” verses thinking and planning the “walk” whatever that walk may be. I open myself to the magic of being lead by Love, led by the Mystery, taking the action and discovering along the way. Unhindered. I teach others to do this, to be it, and yet I have found myself caught in a cycle that needed to be broken and broken it is! I affirm that for myself.

Sometimes we are unaware of our condition until we get out of the condition. Shake up the routine. Do what is not normal. No… it is not easier to stay due to the effort to move! Staying calcifies the energies of the dreams and desires and makes them harder to reach.

Wave.at.DoranThis morning I felt the energy of the waves, their compression as they pounded the shore reverberated throughout the campground. I am the wave.

Releasing the Bus…

Keith's BusMy sister sent me a picture of my nephew’s old Bus. Keith had texted me a few months ago as he was clearing out his old room and preparing to move sometime in the near future. He wanted to know if he should save the bus for me. I said yes. But now, months later, as both my sister and I have had to deal with much clearing after our Mom’s passing, she asked me if I REALLY wanted it. I told her I didn’t know what to do with it (though my heart strings were wrapped around it like a ball of yarn.) So she donated it to a child somewhere that needed it and the energy and spirit that had gone into it so many years ago. It was this bus that Keith and I played with for at least 5 years. He would hand me his bus and then he would grab his Tonka Truck and we would race around the house shouting “BUS!”. It started when he was still 2. I had to bend over to hold the top of the bus and scoot it around. He, being small then, did not have to stoop down too far to push and run with the Tonka Truck. The bus was also made by Tonka and, hence, it took much abuse. So as holiday meals were cooking, Keith and I would run thru the kitchen, down the hallway, to the bedroom, back up the hallway, through the dining room, into the family room and then we would create a make-believe crash next to the fireplace all while shouting “BUS!” as we ran and scooted the wheels of these toys through the house. As an adult, in my 30’s, I was quite out of breath after doing this 5 or more times. Running while stooped over pushing a Bus was hard work… but oh did we love it and it bonded us for a lifetime. I was his hero. When the family gathered, I would be the one who played “Bus” with Keith and we also went outside and did other things, too. There where some moments when I wanted to chat and be with the adults and share, and when he asked if I would play with him, I would say not right now, but soon or later. He seemed so disappointed when I said that.

As Keith got older, play was more about sports. We threw the football, baseball, used the pitching net, roller skated, shot basketballs, scooted on Razor Scooters, and then later on as he got into his teens, we would take walks with Stormy, my Black Lab who traveled with me where ever I went. Just recently, this past May, Keith came to visit me when I was staying at my old childhood home. Mom passed away in February and I was there going through her things and packing them up. My sister, Keith’s mom, and I thought there were a few things that he would like. After he arrived, I took him out for lunch and later we played a card game called “Magic.” It was quite different but each card had a purpose or special power and as one played the cards they had an affect on the cards of the opponent. He was quite good at it and it allows the use of the imagination. It allowed us time to chat and just be in each other’s presence… sharing time. It was very good and afterwards, I helped Keith pack up his car with items of his grandmother’s that were now his to use in his new home that he would be moving into soon after that trip.

The bus has always been the cenotaph of my relationship with my nephew. It was our beginning of play and of time well spent. It was the boy’s joy to have his aunt spend time with him. There is no other gift we can give someone that is better than time. To play, to listen to a boy’s imagination, to laugh and watch them grow.

Much later, I saw Keith graduate from high school and then 4 years after that, we all took time off and gathered to watch him graduate from college. Such a good boy he was and now such a wonderful man he has become. I like to think that I had something to do with how he came to be… and yet, he is his own person with a little bit of all of us in him and each of us holds on to something of the past, with clenched fingers, to remind us of the special moments that make up the life that evolves and moves on…

BUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!