Solus stands midway between the realm of the Singers and that of manifest reality - the realms of Faery, this world, and other realms and dimensions. The Singers dwell in a cosmos without boundaries or differentiations, but we and the faeries live in worlds where there are limitations to overcome and boundaries to identify and expand, which helps us to grow.
When we don't know what we need or who to turn to, Solus will help us, if we ask. To an Oracle group member, Solus said, "Allow the surface noise to fade. I'm here waiting."
Solus encourages us to stand on our own feet, to recognize and utilize our own wisdom, to depend on our own strength, and to acknowledge and work with our own good qualities, using them as stepping-stones to improve the less good. Yet at the same time, Solus recognizes that we cannot do everything alone, and helps us to make the connections and to have the insights that will help us to accept wisdom, energy, and assistance from other realms - especially the realms of the Singers and of the Faery.
With faith in the human spirit, Solus sees us as arrows fired from a bow, choosing our own directions and soaring into undreamed-of heights, empowered by trust and the creative life force.
Solus is radiant, energizing, vitalizing. This presence in a reading often indicates that something new is being brought into being in our lives, partly through our own efforts and partly through the help we are receiving from other realms. Miracles may take place. Movement into the light is occurring. This is a time for taking action, passing on our blessings and learning, and for service given from a position of strength.
Solus stands midway between the realm of the Singers and that of manifest reality - the realms of Faery, this world, and other realms and dimensions. The Singers dwell in a cosmos without boundaries or differentiations, but we and the faeries live in worlds where there are limitations to overcome and boundaries to identify and expand, which helps us to grow.
The Phoenix bird symbolizes immortality, resurrection, and life after death. In ancient Greek and Egyptian mythology, it is associated with the sun god. According to the Greeks,the bird lives in Arabia, near a cool well.
Every morning at dawn, the sun god would stop his chariot to listen to the bird sing a beautiful song while it bathed in the well. Only one phoenix exists at one time. When the bird felt its death was near, every 500 to 1,461 years, it would build a nest of aromatic wood and set it on fire. The bird then was consumed by the flames.
A new phoenix sprang forth from the pyre. It embalmed the ashes of its predecessor in an egg of myrrh and flew with it to Heliopolis, "City of the Sun," where the egg was deposited on the altar of the sun god.
The wonderful Bennu, with its brilliant red and golden plumage, was the sacred bird of Heliopolis. Identified as a heron with its long straight back and head adorned at the back with two erect feathers, the Bennu was later called Phoenix by the Greeks and fabulous stories were told about it.
In Heliopolis, the Bennu bird played a major role in Egyptian mythology, dwelling on the ben-ben stone or obelisk within its sanctuary and revered alongside Ra and Ausar (Osiris). For it was in the City of the Sun where the work of creation began.
The Bennu bird was said to create itself from the fire that burned on the top of the sacred Persea tree in Heliopolis, and in the Metternich Stele, Auset (Isis) says to her son Heru: 'Thou art the Great Bennu who was born on the Incense Trees in the House of the Great Prince in Heliopoli.'
As the 'soul of Ra,' the sun rose in the form of the Bennu to shine out across the world renewed each morning. But the Bennu was also a manifestation of Ausar (Osiris) and was said to spring from his heart as a living symbol of the god. In the 'Book of the Dead,' there are formulae to transform the deceased into the Great Bennu. Here, the deceased says, 'I am the Bennu, the soul of Ra, and the guide of the gods in the Duat.' In another verse, he says, 'I am pure. My purity is the purity of the Great Bennu which is in the city of Suten-henen.'
For the Bennu is the quintessence of rebirth, it rises from its ashes as the spiritual body rises from the dead physical form, as the new sun rises from the old. It is the new condition reached when the return to life is accomplished, namely the resurrection of Ausar (Osiris).
Herodotus records the Bennu bird -- making its appearance only once in 500 years -- as coming from Arabia, carrying in its beak an egg of myrrh that contained its father's body. This egg is similar to Geb's egg that was laid on the primordial hill and gave birth to the sun, the egg within which the whole alchemical process of transformation is effected.
When the Bennu became old, he built a nest of incense twigs in the sacred tree, and lay down and died. In Pliny's account, a small worm appeared from his body that metamorphosed into a bird, and thus the Bennu was reborn.
The planet Venus was called the 'star of the ship of the Bennu-Ausar' (Osiris), mentioned as the Morning Star in this invocation to the sacred sun bird.
I am the Bennu, the soul of Ra,
and the guide of the gods in the Tuat;
let it be so done unto me that
I may enter in like a hawk,
and that I may come forth like Bennu,
the Morning Star.
"The Book of Doors: An Alchemical Oracle from Ancient Egypt."
From: Veggi, Athon and Davidson, Alison
"I'm showing you something piece by piece,
and when the time comes,
I'll show you that too."
And so, I guess I'm not quite ready for whatever "that" is. I did, however, think about Solus, the fairy/deva who went with me to Texas. And it occured to me that it might be a good idea to post about him, and to refresh my memory and my connection there. I also wondered if maybe, since I've been pulling up all kinds of "Snake Medicine", if possibly I should take a look at Phoenix energy. I'm not sure how it's connected, but at the time I was thinking this, it made perfect sense.
It also occured to me that this is a really good lesson in just taking life one step at a time, not having to know all the answers, not having a clue as to the final outcome, just doing for today.
I send my tears down the Esophus Creek, down Panther Creek, off the snowy slopes of Slide Mountain.
For a hundred years my tears have flowed through the aqueduct to nourish the children of all races.
It fills my heart with joy to have a newborn infant washed in my tears.
It fills my heart with joy to slake the thirst of a bowery bum.
It fills my heart with joy to merge with the onions in an onion soup.
It fills my heart with joy to become a hot shower flowing over a human body.
And from this joy I send more tears to create more joy.
But little by little the Circle is being broken.
I send my joy but I do not hear the joy of my beloved in return.
I do not hear sincere gratitude from the other end of the aqueduct.
I am starving for the Spiritual Support I need to express my joy.
I, the Spirit of the Mountain, am as alive and real as the Brooklyn Bridge.
You pay a toll to cross the bridge, because you understand the relationship between bridge and toll.
Yet I hear no prayers, I receive no bundles of fragrant flowers on my mountain tops.
I feel no tears of human gratitude splashing into the Catskill Creeks.
I don’t smell the sweet sage offerings drifting through my forests of pine.
I understand your ignorance; but I can not live outside the boundaries of the Sacred Laws.
Your ignorance of the Sacred Spiritual is killing me.
You can live outside the Sacred Circle for only a finite drop of time.
The Sacred is Infinite and waits for you to wake up into this World beyond Worlds.
~Medicine Bear, Spring, 2006
A bit of background on this work. There are several reservoirs in the Catskill Mountains that feed the water system of New York City with some of the best drinking water in the world. This prose refers to the Spirit of the Catskill Mountains and the unthanked used of these sacred waters. Image is from Kaatskill Falls in the Catskill Mountains.
~via Mandala Madness
Cleansing rituals are very important. That's what I hear, and that's what I see. And I wonder ... first the Snake Racers and now the Ritual Bath ... is there a ceremony or a healing ritual or SOMETHING I will soon be doing? Am I "Waiting For The Signal?"
The snake dwells in so many places, climates and environments, comes in so many colors, shapes and sizes that this creature can be said to be one of the most versatile of all. Indeed snakes represent versatility, transmutation and change, their natural inclination to “shed their skins” leaving behind the old, and adapting to the new, supports this idea.
The snake has been, throughout the ages, controversial in many regards. Some see the snake as a bearer of evil or bad news, but most see the snake as the healer and spiritual icon that it is. The debate among Christain’s has always been whether the snake is the personification of evil or a holy and scared icon. There are many references to the snake in the bible, some portraying this creature as a bearer of evil, but most refer to its job as healer and spiritual muse. No where in the bible does it say that snakes are evil, however, like any creature, human or animal, they possess both noble and questionable qualities. Some people fear them and many more are charmed by them.
Most of us recognize the snake as the symbol of physicians and alchemists, which shows two snakes wrapped around a staff. This again, supports their totem reputation as healer. Snakes are highly respected in India and their lore and symbolism is highly regarded by their culture; Vitana, the mother of snakes, is the symbol of water and the underworld and the Goddess Shiva always wears snakes on her body as jewelry, which represents sexuality. American Indians also see the snake as a representation of fertility and healing.
Those who are said to posses Snake like qualities have control over their emotions, excellent intuition and the ability to heal quickly. They are slow to anger but have enormous coiled power within them and will strike with control and precision when they must. Some snake type people, like their reptile counterparts, will give their opponent fair warning before striking, others will attack powerfully and without any warning. Snakes rarely, if ever, attack unless provoked, which is an excellent lesson for all of us to learn. Others should be on their guard when in snake territory and should respect the snake’s province.
Snakes awaken spiritual and magical intuition in the person who chooses this totem or is chosen by it. Snakes are associated with unseen creative forces at work. With the snake totem the powers of intuition and observation becomes keener and more precise. As snakes represent change and intuition the combination of these characteristics will allow for great new developments in life and the proper instinct for deciding which changes will be effective and which should not be made. They represent openness to new experiences, and thus, opened horizons.
The Snake in the wild is generally clam and peaceful. They hunt for food when hungry and can go long periods of time without eating again. They bask on warm rocks and will usually not attack unless prompted. To annoy or provoke a snake is a very unwise mistake, which many people make. Because of their calm and somewhat shy nature, many believe that they are too still or quiet to be much harm, however, as many have discovered, while a snake may seem as though it is still and unaware, if pressed they can and will deliver a dangerous blow or bite, sometimes without warning, that can leave permanent damage or even cause death to its victim.
Snakes are very sensitive to their environment, they are silent, calm creatures and seem to be very serene on the outside, but within this animal is coiled power that can deliver lethal blows, with well timed and startling accuracy. The snake is a powerful totem, symbolizing eternity, wisdom, transformation and intuition. Their wisdom is expressed as healer and the snake has been used as a symbol of this for centuries.
The Magnificent Snake Totem possesses the following virtues:
Wisdom, healing, intuition, awaking of creative forces, ability to handle change without resistance, new opportunities for change, material vitality, intellect, power over rashness in speech and thought, emotional control, increased sensitivity to the environment, increased powers of smell, transmutation, and increased powers of observation.
But wait, there's more!
Snakes are fascinating creatures that deserve respect. Throughout history the snake has had many legends associated with it linking them to creation, fertility and transformation.
In Israel the snake was regarded as the earth mother and played a beneficial role in fertility. In Egypt the cobra was known for its ability to expand the upper neck into a disc shape by spreading its ribs which symbolized immortality. In Christian lore the snake is seen rising from the chalice of St. John wound around a cross sometimes portrayed with a woman's head to symbolize lust and temptation. In Eastern cultures a snake rising up through the spine represents the kundalini, or life force being awakened.
One of snakes most noticeable characteristics is the regular shedding of its outer skin as it grows. Once the skin is shed, the old inner layer becomes the new outer layer and a new inner layer of skin begins to develop. Crawling out of its old skin is very significant for those with this medicine. It is a metaphor for how we shed old ways and habits as we grow into higher spiritual energy symbolizing the death and rebirth process. It is also associated with astral travel and out of body experiences.
The eyes of a snake are always open protected by immobile transparent scales. Prior to shedding its skin the snakes markings become obscure and the eyes appear opaque or blue. This gives it a trance like appearance as if it is looking right through you. Learning how to see into the hearts of others is part of what it teaches us.
Snake has been a symbol of life and sexuality for thousands of years in many cultures. It is a totem of power, renewal and transmutation. Soundless in motion and invisible at rest snakes are unable to produce their own body heat. They are often seen lying in the hot mid day sun. The suns warmth coupled with the snakes behavior regulates their body temperature. Not relying on the energy of food to generate body heat, they can survive on meager diets for extended periods of time. Those with this totem need very little food to energize themselves. They are usually cold and prefer warmer climates. Their body temperatures are often lower than normal.
Snakes lack eardrums and external ear openings but have small bones in the head that conduct sound. They are able to hear low frequency sounds and sense vibrations that travel through the earth. This links them to the underworld where secrets are stored. The snake symbolizes healing on a cellular level. Because their bodies are lightweight and flexible they have speed and agility.
When they enter into your world expect swift changes to sweep through your life. These changes signify a death of the old and a birth into untapped power, creativity and wisdom. Snake is a powerful totem to have. Only those with a high degree of spiritual training, be it past or present, will be awarded this totem. It is the guardian of sacred places and the keeper of hidden knowledge.
I found it interesting, especially since yesterday Daniel and I saw a snake at Powell Gardens, and I'm thinking that snake has got to be one of my totems. On the other hand, maybe my mind is the snake racer (and I'm only just now realizing this as I write this post several days later) because now I'm curious and thinking about Anacondas and what do they mean to South American Shamans, which reminds me that I want to do a post about Tree Ferns with lots of pictures and also poppies for Daniel and maybe even some Navajo Masks.
Yes... it would seem my mind IS the snake racer. Hmmm... So now what?
The masks are considered to be living and breathing. They are fed with cornmeal 'Mush' and they accept gifts of tobacco as payment for rituals. The design of the masks is somewhat variable, but most share certain features. The masks have long, black, reddish brown, brown, grey or white horse hair. Before the introduction of horses by the Europeans, corn husks and buffalo hair were used. The eyes are deep-set and accented by metal. The noses are bent and crooked. The other facial features are variable. The masks are painted red and black. Most often carry pouches of tobacco on their foreheads and/or nostrils. Basswood is usually used for the masks although other types of wood are sometimes used.
When making a mask, an Iroquois man walks through the woods until he is moved by a spirit to carve a mask from the tree. The spirit inspires the unique elements of the mask's design and the resulting product represents the spirit itself. The masks are carved directly on the tree and only removed when completed. Masks are painted red if they were begun in the morning or black if they were begun in the afternoon. Red masks are thought to be more powerful. Masks with both colors represent spirits with "divided bodies.
The story behind the rituals and the artifacts can be found here: The Story of False Face as told by Mad Bear Anderson.
I opened the book and a Navaho medicine man wearing a strange mask looked at me and immediately yelled "Muhaha!!" Well, he didn't yell that exact word, I can't describe the sound he actually made, but it scared all the evil spirits right out of me.
It was very invigorating! And I really did feel quite a bit better for it.
Here's the scoop on snails:
Snails are found in gardens, ponds and even the sea. Their soft bodies are protected by hard shells which they use as a defense. When disturbed or alarmed the snail withdraws or pulls itself back into its shell. It also retreats into itself and seals the entrance in dry weather to protect its body from drying up. Those with this medicine know how to retreat when danger is present as well as seal themselves off from others. This can be beneficial as long as the individual does not become too much of a recluse and inhibit their communication and interaction with others. Knowing when to retreat and when to act is an important teaching for those with this totem.
The snail creates a slime trail to travel on so it is easier to move over different surfaces and textures. They remind us to take the easiest path to reach our destination. When snail appears in your life ask yourself if you are taking a harder path than is necessary. Because snail retreats into its shell during adverse weather conditions those with this medicine have the ability to build walls around themselves and withdraw until a situation improves. Snail medicine people have clear perceptions and need to learn to honor those abilities in all situations.
Both male and female the snail can produce sperm and eggs at the same time. Because of this duality those with this totem have a tendency towards identity conflicts in their younger years. This conflict triggers issues of self esteem and confusion. Fortunately as the person gets older their male and female characteristics align and begin to work together in a complimentary way.
Most active at night or on cloudy days the snail uses all of its senses equally and simultaneously. Those with this totem often find they seldom have one intuitive gift more pronounced than another as all psychic abilities are utilized in any given situation.
The snail understands the value of slow movement and teaches us how to use that movement to our advantage. It holds the teachings of patience, perseverance and respect. It asks us to be mobile and fluidic as we move through life, always aware of how our actions or lack of them affect others. The trail we leave behind holds the history of who and what we are. When snail enters your life your reputation is under review. Past situations come to the surface to be healed or balanced in some way. Snail asks us to "make right whatever we have wronged." In this way spiritual growth is attained.
"Whatever the task or the chore.
You can enjoy doing it."
And I was thinking, well, yeah sure... if the place you're working in looks and feels like this! But then, I put that thought aside and decided that as I went about my day maybe I really could enjoy my tasks and chores. And it was true.
My head is held high in worshipful silence before the great Mystery above.
I look to the hills and there I see His strength.
His reach extends to the whole universe and all help comes from Him.
He puts in order all that I see -- the heavens, the earth,
the trees and leaves of the forest, sign of the four winds.
The wide world which I see measures the strength of my Great Father!!!
When you've done that, replay the scene and get into the city by a different means. Then do it again, and again, at least half a dozen times, changing your method for entering each time. With your imagination you'll be training your ku for great flexibility in reaching your goals.
I was interested in the meanings and myths of cottonwood trees because I am now addicted to the one that stands outside the window in my meditation room. The leaves sound like soft rain, and they shimmer and dance almost constantly. I LOVE that tree.
So, here's the scoop on the "lore" surrounding Cottonwood trees, gathered from various sources on the Internet:
The Hidatsa Indians of North America believed that the 'shade' (tree spirit) of the cottonwood (considered by the Hidatsa to be the greatest tree in the valley of the Upper Missouri) if approached with reverence would provide answers to questions and solutions to problems.
The Omaha tribes ascribed mystery to the cottonwood due to its self reliance, ability to reproduce rapidly and to the fact that its leaves resembled water ripples dancing as they rustled gently in the breeze. It was believed that the air was never so still that the leaves were not in motion, even on a hot, still summer afternoon you can hear the gentle rustle of the leaves, at night as well, they rattle and whisper when all else is still. The tribes believed that the winds were the paths of the Sacred Ones and the rustling leaves were a constant reminder of this mystery.
The sacred pole of the Omaha, an object of greatest veneration, was made of cottonwood. This pole seemed to have a similar function as the Ark of the Covenant had for the Hebrews.
Omaha also used personal names pertaining to the tree, names such as Maa ZhoN Hoda meaning Grey Cottonwood.
The cottonwood was called waga chaN by the Dakotas; maa zhoN by the Omaha-Ponca tribes; and natakaaru by the Pawnee.
Comanche held the cottonwood tree sacred - a Tree of Life with it's heart shaped leaves - a gift from Grandfather Peyote.
The young sprouts of the tree were peeled and the inner bark was eaten for its pleasant taste and nutritional value by the Dakotas .
Young and upper branches were used as fodder for horses; the European settlers found this an excellent forage also claiming it was “as good for horses as oats.”
Cottonwood bark was used to roast the clays used in making the paints for heraldic and symbolic painting of the body.
A yellow dye was made from the waxy leaf buds in early spring. The seeds were also boiled to decoct a dye for dipping arrow feathers into.
Native children made toy tipis and toy moccasins from the leaves. The children gathered the fluffy seeds to use as chewing gum like treats. Girls and young women used the leaves as a type of whistle to make a very sweet bird like music; “the effect was most pleasing to the ear.”
I decided that I too would watch the dancers... the leaves dancing on the cottonwood tree. It's just outside the window of my meditation room. I had the window open, and they were making the most delightful sound.
It was great! I watched them as if I was watching "Dancing With The Stars"... with interest and enthusiasm. It was cool. I could almost see the fairies that live in that tree. They were enjoying it too.
I think tomorrow I'm going to start a series of paintings of "Dances-in-the-Wind" I'll even use some of the leaves from the tree itself. Maybe fairies will show up in them. That would be cool.
On nalu you don't do anything forceful. You just look, listen, and/or feel. The beneficial effects happen all by themselves because the continuous attention links your pattern to the pattern you are focusing on. What makes nalu so fascinating is the variety of effects that occur depending on your area of focus.
~via The Prosperity Project
Jumping the gun, being impatient and over-zealous got many a young warrior into trouble. I'm sure. Exhuberant passion, I think is good - but it needs to be tempered with that still-point where you wait for the timing to be right.
So, I waited there with them. Wondering what the signal was, and if I would recognise it when it came. Finally, I thought to talk to them.
Here's what they said in reply:
When he spoke to me he said, "Live close to the earth."
This was really similar to what I heard yesterday. I'm wondering if it's maybe a message or a suggestion that it would be beneficial and instructive for me to spend the night outside some time soon. I do have a little tent, and even some firewood. I could make a small fire, and spend some quality time really feeling my connection to the earth herself.
With your feet I walk
I walk with your limbs
I carry forth your body
For me your mind thinks
Your voice speaks for me
Beauty is before me
And beauty is behind me
Above and below me hovers the beautiful
I am surrounded by it
I am immersed in it
In my youth I am aware of it
And in old age I shall walk quietly
The beautiful trail.
american indian - navajo
And I totally got it... that I could be like that river. I could just flow as fast or as slow as was natural and right in the moment. No need to strive or push. If striving and pushing is needed it will happen of it's own accord.
And it also occured to me that moving through my day with peace would be a whole lot easier if I was quietly working next to a slow moving river, on a beautiful peace-filled day. That the river itself, the sky, the trees, the grass, the birds... the fresh cool air... would bring with it a sort of grace. We lose so much being constantly inside of buildings and cars...
A story by shirleytwofeathers
Buffalo Child was born on the evening of the day of a great storm. A hard rain came down in sheets, bringing earthworms up out of the soil, and sending raccoons scurrying home to their dens. The ground all around the birth mother had turned to mud, and was so deep and thick that Buffalo Child had a very hard time standing up.
Her birth mother tried to nudge her to her feet, but Buffalo Child just rolled over. She rolled over so many times that thick mud stuck to her birth damp coat, and became very heavy. Finally, with great difficulty, Buffalo Child stood up. She looked around for her birth mother, but everything was the color of brown earth. Thick mud covered Buffalo Child’s eyes, and she did not recognize anything. She could not see which of the dark shapes in front of her was her mother.
Buffalo Child moved hesitantly toward the dark shapes, and as she did, her confidence grew. Surely her mother was the tallest, most magnificent of all the shapes she saw before her. On unstable legs, she ran forward, running right into the thick brown shape she thought was her mother. But it wasn’t her mother that she was running towards. It was an old cottonwood tree, and it hit her hard between the eyes. Buffalo Child cried out, thinking that her mother had struck her. The tears washed some of the mud and dirt out of her eyes, and she saw that her mother was not the tree.
The other Buffalo Mothers were dismayed. They saw the newborn Buffalo Child run into the old cottonwood tree, they saw that she was lost and stumbling, and so they moved into a protective circle around her. Her birth mother once again nudged Buffalo Child and this time, with awkward shaky steps, she found her mother. Buffalo Child suckled sweet milk, and she felt love, and it was good.
Buffalo Child was never able to see clearly, and the thick mud that had formed around her when she was born soon hardened. It was very heavy, and caused her to grow in an unbalanced way. Her mother was patient at first, but their bond was not as strong as it might have been, and it was very hard to be the mother of a child who was half blind and unable to walk in a straight path. Buffalo Child was always bumping into rocks and tripping over thick clumps of prairie grass, and blundering into thickets of thorn bushes. The other mothers soon lost interest in this strange child; they grew tired of looking for her when she was lost. They had their own children to worry about. They had their own concerns.
And so it was, that Buffalo Child often went hungry, she had no safe place to sleep at night, no kind words were spoken, and her life grew cold and lonely. She no longer felt love, and did not often taste the sweetness of mother’s milk.
The leader of the tribe, a great White Buffalo, watched Buffalo Child those first days of her life. His heart filled with compassion as he saw how the members of the tribe, and even her own birth mother, one by one fell away, until soon Buffalo Child had no one at her side, no one to show her where the sweet grass was, no one to lead her to the quiet watering holes, no one to pick her up and dust her off after a great fall. He saw that she was alone in the world and his heart opened to her. And he took it upon himself to be her father.
He named her Star Child, and licked her clean of mud and dust. He pulled burrs and thorns out of her thick coat, and soon it was clear that she was truly his daughter. Her robe, like his, was thick and white. The White Buffalo leader was kind to Star Child, and she called him Father. He waited patiently when she stumbled and fell; he stood guard over her as she slept; he taught her to find her way. In his care, she once again felt the sweetness of love, and it was good. But although she grew healthy and strong, and the dust and mud were gone, Star Child never regained her balance, and her eyesight was not clear.
One early morning, in the spring of the year, when a family of snow geese made a V in the sky, the Father took Star Child on a long walk. They crossed a small river, and stopped to enjoy the otters at play. Soon they came to a beautiful place, a place that was very close to the rising sun. Blades of sweet grass shone with gold on their edges. Somewhere a cougar made his presence known, and for a moment all was silent.
Star Child was very tired and sleepy after the long walk, so she lay down to rest in the tall golden grass. The White Buffalo Father stood quietly over her. He made a necklace of sweet grass and placed it around her neck. He wove a very small crystal into the fur on her forehead, and then he went away.
Star Child woke up to an eerie cry. She looked around for her Father, but he was gone. She looked toward the rising sun and saw a huge shape coming towards her in the sky, it looked swift and sure. She was very afraid, so she closed her eyes, and buried her head in the grass. She hoped that she would look like a large white rock. She hoped that whatever it was that was coming would fly on by.
But it didn’t.
The Great Mother of the Golden Eagles flew out of the rising sun toward Star Child. Her eyes were sharp and bright. She picked the Star Child up in her strong talons, and carried her to her nest high in the top of a tree that grew high on the top of a mountain right on the edge of the world. The nest was large and lined with golden down. Golden Eagle Mother set Star Child down in the nest. Her eyes were sharp and bright, but they were kind, and Star Child lost her fear.
The time that Star Child lived in the nest was a healing time. No one laughed at her, or made fun of her for falling down, or bumping into things. She didn’t get lost. It was easy to stay in the nest because the sides were tall and strong, made of sturdy sticks and branches. It was a secure place at the top of the world. And Star Child could look over the edge, and out into the world whenever she wanted.
Golden Eagle fed Star Child healing herbs. She brought fresh, mountain water. In the night, under the bright stars, Star Child nestled, contentedly under Golden Eagle’s strong wings, and listened to the rhythm of her strong heart. She thought of her as Mother. It was a safe and sacred time.
Soon, because of the healing herbs, and because of the love of the Golden Eagle Mother, Star Child began to see more clearly. She began to see more than just colors and shapes when she looked out into the world. She began to see green grass, and red hawks feasting on the mice that lived in the grass. She saw rivers, and ponds, and the lodges of beavers. She saw forests and trees, and the deer people who lived amongst the trees.
At first it was fun to be seeing so clearly. But after a time, Star Child began to miss the feeling of soft grass and the earth under her feet. She wanted to bury her nose in flowers just like the hummingbirds she saw from her high perch at the edge of the world. She wanted to walk with fireflies in the evening time, and listen to owls in the night.
She looked toward the northern plains, and she saw the White Father, and she saw his gentle eyes, and knew his love. She saw her Birth Mother, and how it was with her, and the other Buffalo Mothers, their children, and the great Buffalo Tribe, and her heart was filled with an aching sadness. But she knew that in this great high place she was loved, that the Golden Eagle Mother loved her deeply and fiercely, and she herself had great love for the Mother of Eagles. So Star Child decided to forget about her sadness, she made a gift out of her precious necklace of sweet grass and gave it to the Mother. She decided to try to be happy.
The Golden Eagle Mother was pleased with the gift, but she was not fooled. She was ancient and wise in the way of children. And she knew what was best for Star Child. So one day, when the sun stood tall in the center of the sky, she took Star Child out of the nest and flew with her down to a place where the grass was thick and lush, where fat gray rabbits lived in warrens under the ground; a place of rivers filled with salmon; and where families of wolves hunted and sang in the night.
She gently set Star Child down in the soft green grass. And she said, “I love you, and I will watch over you always. My light will shine on you, no matter where you go, no matter where you are.” And with that, she flew back to her nest by the place where the sun rises.
Star Child was alone. She was a little bit scared, and a little bit sad. Star Child was alone. She was a little bit scared, and a little bit sad, but she was also excited and happy to be in this new place. Rabbits peeked out of their holes, curious about this stranger whose white robe was now tipped with gold. They were very impressed.
As soon as Star Child saw their little rabbit faces peeking out of the ground, she scrambled quickly to her feet. She was eager to make new friends. But even though her vision was good, her balance was still very bad, she was still unable to walk a straight path, and the first thing she did was run into a large rock and fall down. The rabbits laughed and laughed. They rolled on the ground laughing. Star Child saw that their laughter was filled with joy and fun, and she started laughing too.
Coyote heard the laughter and immediately came to investigate. And what he saw filled him with amazement. In front of him was a buffalo calf, with gold tipped white fur, rolling on the ground, with rabbits, laughing. He watched quietly. Soon the laughter stopped, the rabbits went back to their rabbit business, and Star Child stood up. She was hungry and began to munch on the grass.
Coyote noticed that the buffalo calf walked in a strange sideways, stumbling fashion. She seemed to know where she was going, but she was unable to walk a straight path, and sometimes she fell down. He began to follow Star Child around. He did everything she did. When she crashed into a tree, he crashed into a tree. He became her shadow. It was great fun.
And Star Child was very comforted to find that she had a shadow companion. Soon they became friends. Star Child told Coyote her story, and Coyote showed Star Child the way of the world. They had many adventures. Star Child discovered that if she followed Coyote as like a shadow, that it was OK to fall down, and that sometimes it was a great and wonderful joke. Sometimes they both fell down on purpose just to have a good laugh.
From Coyote, Star Child learned how to get out of a tight spot, how to talk her self out of big trouble, how to enjoy the surprises of life, and that there is bitter and sweet in every experience. Coyote taught Star Child the language of flickers, how to get the Grandfather of the Fishes to guide you out of deep water and back to dry land, and how brown bears find honey. It was a powerful time, a time of companionship and trust. Star Child called Coyote brother, and they were friends.
One day, late in the summer, Coyote took Star Child on the road toward the place of the setting sun. Towards evening, they came to a cave. Star Child curled up in a comfortable corner of the cave and went to sleep. While she slept, Coyote kept watch. He built a small fire and burned some sage. He sang to the stars, and the stars sang back. Then Coyote left a bundle of sage next to his friend and left.
When Star Child woke up it was very dark and cold. The fire had gone out a long time before. She was alone and very afraid. She called out to Brother Coyote, but he did not reply. She called out to the Mother of the Eagles, and to the Father of the Buffalo, and still there was no reply. The cave was dark, and cold, and silent. She picked up the bundle of sage, and held it to her heart. It did not speak to her either.
She wandered around in the dark for a very long time. Sometimes she bumped into walls; sometimes she fell over rocks. Nothing was funny, and she got very lost. Finally, Star Child sat down and cried. She let the tears flow. She cried for her lost tribe, for the Father, Mother, and Brother who were lost to her. She cried for herself because she was lost, and alone, and afraid. After a while, she ran out of tears. She was tired and exhausted from the wandering, the falling, and the crying, so she did not know what to do.
Suddenly she heard a loud rumbling noise. It sounded like thunder. Star Child stood up, her legs were shaking so much that she almost fell down. But she clutched the bundle of sage that Coyote had left for her. There in the middle of the cave was a huge brown mound of fur. The fur was thick and dark and shot thru with the gray hairs of age. One eye opened, and then the other.
Grandmother Grizzly looked right into Star Child’s heart. She looked past the fear, she looked past the stumbling and the fumbling, and she saw a sweetness and a light. She saw the sweetness of tall prairie grass, the light of golden sunshine, and she saw a story, and a friendship, and fun.
Star Child looked back. She forgot that she was frightened. She saw a Grizzly Bear, and she also saw wisdom, depth of feeling, and a heart as big as the world. “Hello Grandmother,” she said.
“Hello Little One.”
Star Child gave Grandmother the bundle of sage that she had in her hand. The gift was accepted with a smile. Grandmother invited Star Child to sit down. Star Child was very tired after wandering around for so long in the dark, and from the falling, and the crying, and soon she was curled up next to Grandmother Grizzly. There, in that safe warm place, Star Child fell very deeply asleep. She dreamed many dreams. Star Child dreamed of things she had never seen, of the great Whale Tribe that lives deep in the ocean. She saw visions, and she explored the dark time realm. Sometimes she would wake up, and wander through the cave. She talked to the shy mice that nested in hidden places, and to the ants that occasionally visited. If she found water or food, she shared it with them and with Grandmother.
Always when she slept she had dreams, and when the dreams frightened her, she moved closer to Grandmother for comfort, solace, and strength. It was a dark and quiet time. The depth of love was great.
And then, one day, Grandmother woke up. She thanked Star Child for spending time with her, for bringing her food and water through the long sleep. “Now you must go home,“ she said. “I will go with you in your dreams. I will be with you as you sleep, and beside you when you wander in the dark.”
Grandmother Grizzly stretched and growled. She stood up tall and strong, and she pushed hard on the side of the cave. The rock wall gave way with a shout and a roar. Sunlight streamed in.
For a time, Star Child was blinded and disoriented. She walked out into the world, and her vision cleared. It was the fall season; the air was crisp. Ravens spoke to her from the trees, and a snake slipped under the dry leaves into his safe hole in the ground. She looked back to say goodbye to Grandmother, but the cave was gone. She looked around, in the distance Star Child saw a herd of Elk, and beyond the snow covered hills, she saw sweet grass, and yes… Buffalo grazing.
Star Child made her way toward the Tribe. She noticed as she went, that she was able to walk a straight and narrow path, that she was not running into trees, or stumbling into bushes, or getting lost in thickets of brambles and weeds. Quietly and surely, she made her way toward the place where the Buffalo stood grazing, toward her birth mother, her birth brothers and sisters.
In the distance she heard Coyote laughing, so she stopped and waited for him to catch up. As she waited, she looked toward the east and saw the Great Mother of Eagles, and the Sun to touched her face. She heard dolphins singing. She walked toward the north, toward the White Buffalo Father, who smiled to see her again.
And so Star Child came home. But no one recognized her. Her robe had turned to a deep rich brown during her time in the cave; her eyes were clear and gold in color; there was a white star on her forehead; and the scent of sage followed her like a shadow. They called her Buffalo Woman. She lived quietly among her people. Sometimes she told stories, sometimes she fell down just for fun, and always she took care of the children.
So, I opened the book again and the first thing I saw was a frightened almost feral looking child. He had that "deer caught in headlights" look which I can totally relate to. I was unable to establish any kind of communication with him at all. We just sat there and stared at each other for a while.
Then I looked over at the facing page and found my teacher for the day. She was clearly a mother. Her face was strong and kind. Her eyes were warm and generous. She said:
So be kind.
It occured to me that this must be true of every one. It sounds really kind of mushy and sentimental now, after the fact, but it felt so good in that moment - like something in me loosened up and relaxed - and I gave that frightened child within me a smile and a hug. It was good!
And since then, I've noticed that whenever I'm feeling angry at someone or impatient, whenever I'm all tensed up and having anxiety, if I just remember the two of them, I'm back in that same good place all over again.
On the medicine wheel our animal representative of the east direction is the eagle. The eagle lets us rise above the situation and look at things from a greater perspective. Go outside and look up at the great expansiveness, the direction of above, the heavens, the universe. Realize that since you breath, your existence in every moment is verified and sanctified as integral to the whole of the workings of the universe.
In other words Creator has given you the gift of life because he trusts you and knows you are fulfilling a purpose. Just like Creator remains creator however you describe it, your Sacredness does not depend on your opinion of yourself. You are sacred, know it or not.You are an unlimited being of spirit that is experiencing itself within a limited form. This sometimes makes us feel like we don't belong here in this body or are limited.
Life is a cycle, a cycle is a circle and in a circle everything returns to where it began. Thus we will return to where we came from before we began to experience the form of this body. We can not be lost forever in illusion. All must be counted, no one will be lost. It was set up this way since the beginning. We have been exploring the extremes of our potential as human. This means it can get very dark at times. The ancients were very wise and foresaw the darkness we would enter. There were things put in motion that ensure our way home.
The earth herself will ensure that she will survive and those who stand on her as her children will have solid ground under their feet. We call the earth mother Ela in our way. She is our mother because our form is of hers. The atoms and matter we are composed of, we are borrowing until our work is done here. Since you are of the mother and the mother knows how to balance herself, she can balance you. Lie on the mother and ask her to balance you, give your anger and despair to her, she knows to convert it to something that gives life.
For the rest of that amazing article, and more neat stuff, visit the Yunsai Society, and check out their Newsletter. WOW!
As she showed it to me, I felt it. That strength that rests below our feet. And I saw that a person could move through life staying rooted and grounded in the earth. Especially if you take the time to really "do" it. When you walk, your feet seem to leave the ground, but the energy actually can and does move with you.
And it occured to me the vastness and the power of she who is our mother... She who must be obeyed. When you live, she feeds you. When you are overwhelmed, she backs you. When you die, she holds you.
My puny words cannot come even close to describing the immensity of what I felt. The love.
To be authentic means to remain true to your own being. How to remain true? Three things have to be remembered.
One, never listen to anybody, what they say for you to be. Always listen to your inner voice, to what you would like to be; otherwise your whole life will be wasted. Your mother wants you to be an engineer, your father wants you to be a doctor, and you want to be a poet. What to do? Of course the mother is right because it is more economical, more financially helpful to be an engineer. The father is also right: to be a doctor is a good commodity in the market; it has a market value. “A poet? Have you gone mad? Are you crazy?”
Poets are people who are cursed. Nobody wants them. There is no need for them; the world can exist without poetry. There will be no trouble if poetry is not there. The world cannot exist without engineers; the world needs engineers. If you are needed you are valuable; if you are not needed you don’t carry any value.
But if you want to be a poet, be a poet. You may be a beggar. Good! You may not get very rich through it. Don’t worry about it, because you may become a great engineer and you may earn much money, but you will never have any fulfillment. You will always hanker, your inner being will hanker, to be a poet.
Remember, be true to your inner voice. It may lead you into danger; then go into the danger, but remain true to the inner voice. Then there is a possibility that one day you will come to a state where you can dance with inner fulfillment. Always look for the first thing is your being and don’t allow others to manipulate and control you. They are many: everybody is ready to control you, everybody is ready to change you, everybody is ready to give you a direction you have not asked for. Everybody is giving you a guide for your life. The guide exists within you; you carry the blueprint.
To be authentic means to be true to oneself. It is a very, very dangerous phenomenon; rare people can do that. But whenever people do it, they achieve. They achieve such beauty, such grace, such contentment, you cannot imagine. If everybody looks so frustrated, the reason is that nobody has listened to his own voice.
You wanted to marry a girl but the girl was a Mohammedan and you are a Hindu brahmin. Your parents wouldn’t allow. The society wouldn’t accept; it was dangerous. The girl was poor and you are rich. So you married a rich woman, Hindu, brahmin by caste, accepted by everybody but not by your heart. So now you live an ugly life. Now you go to the prostitute, but even prostitutes won’t help you. You have prostituted your whole life; you wasted your whole life.
Always listen to the inner voice, and don’t listen to anything else. A thousand and one are the temptations around you because many people are there peddling their things. It is a supermarket, the world, and everybody is interested in selling his thing to you; everybody is a salesman. If you listen to too many salesmen you will become mad. Don’t listen to anybody; just close your eyes and listen to the inner voice. That is what meditation is all about: to listen to the inner voice. This is the first thing.
Then the second thing — if you have done the first thing only then does the second become possible: never wear a mask. If you are angry, be angry. It is risky, but don’t smile because that is to be untrue. But you have been taught that when you are angry, smile; then your smile becomes false, a mask...just an exercise of the lips, nothing else. The heart full of anger, poison, and the lips smiling; you become a false phenomenon.
Then the other thing also happens: when you want to smile you cannot. Your whole mechanism is topsy-turvy because when you wanted to be angry you weren’t, when you wanted to hate you didn’t. Now you want to love; suddenly you find that the mechanism doesn’t function. Now you want to smile; you have to force it. Really, your heart is full of smile and you want to laugh loudly, but you cannot laugh, something chokes in the heart, something chokes in the throat. The smile doesn’t come, or even if it comes it is a very pale and dead smile. It doesn’t make you happy. You don’t bubble up with it. It is not a radiance around you.
When you want to be angry, be angry. Nothing is wrong in being angry. If you want to laugh, laugh. Nothing’s wrong in laughing loudly. By and by you will see that your whole system is functioning. When it functions, really, it has a hum around it, just as a car, when everything is going good, hums. The driver who loves the car knows that now everything is functioning well, there is an organic unity — the mechanism is functioning well. You can see: whenever a person’s mechanism is functioning well, you can hear the hum around him. He walks, but his step has a dance in it. He talks, but his words carry a subtle poetry in them. He looks at you, and he really looks; it is not just lukewarm, it is really warm. When he touches you he really touches you. You can feel his energy moving into your body, a current of life being transferred...because his mechanism is functioning well.
Don’t wear masks; otherwise you will create dysfunctions in your mechanism...blocks. There are many blocks in your body. A person who has been suppressing anger, his jaw becomes blocked. All the anger comes up to the jaw and then stops there. His hands become ugly. They don’t have the graceful movement of a dancer, no, because the anger comes into the fingers — and blocked.
Remember, anger has two sources to be released from. One is the teeth, another is the fingers: because all animals, when they are angry, will bite you with their teeth or they will start tearing you with their paws. So the nails and the teeth are the two points from where the anger is released.
I have a suspicion that wherever anger is suppressed too much, people have teeth trouble. Their teeth go wrong because too much energy is there and it is never released. Anybody who suppresses anger will eat more; angry people will always eat more because the teeth need some exercise. Angry people will smoke more. Angry people will talk more; they can become obsessive talkers because, somehow, the jaw needs exercise so that the energy is released a little bit. Angry people’s hands will become knotted, ugly. If the energy was released they could have become beautiful hands.
If you suppress anything, in the body there is some part,a corresponding part, to the emotion. If you don’t want to cry, your eyes will lose their luster because tears are needed; they are a very alive phenomenon. When once in a while you weep and cry, really you go into it — you become it — tears start flowing down your eyes; your eyes are cleansed, your eyes again become fresh, young, and virgin. That’s why women have more beautiful eyes, because they can still cry. Man has lost his eyes because they have a wrong notion that men should not cry. If somebody, a small boy cries, even the parents, others, say, “What are you doing? Are you being a sissy?”
What nonsense, because God has given you — man or woman — the same tear glands. If man was not to weep, there would have been no tear glands. Simple mathematics! Why do the tear glands exist in man in the same proportion as they exist in woman? Eyes need weeping and crying, and it is really beautiful if you can cry and weep wholeheartedly.
Remember, if you cannot cry and weep wholeheartedly, you cannot laugh also, because that is the other polarity. People who can laugh can also cry; people who cannot cry cannot laugh. You may have observed sometimes in children: if they laugh loudly and long they start crying — because they are joined. In the villages I have heard mothers saying to their children, “Don’t laugh too much; otherwise you will start crying.” Really true, because the phenomena are not different — it is just that the same energy moves to the opposite poles.
The second thing: don’t use masks. Be true whatsoever the cost.
The third thing about authenticity: always remain in the present — because all falseness enters either from the past or from the future. That which has passed has passed; don’t bother about it. Don’t carry it as a burden; otherwise it will not allow you to be authentic to the present. All that has not come has not come yet. Don’t unnecessarily be bothered about the future; otherwise that will come into the present and destroy it. Be true to the present, and then you will be authentic. To be here-now is to be authentic. No past, no future: this moment all, this moment the whole eternity.
These three things, and you attain what Patanjali calls truthfulness. Then whatsoever you say will be true. Ordinarily you think you have to be alert to say the truth. I’m not saying that. I am saying: you create authenticity; whatsoever you say will be true. An authentic man cannot lie; whatsoever he says will be true.
In Yoga we have a tradition — it may not even be possible for you to believe it; I believe it because I have known it, I experienced it: if a real, authentic man lies, the lie will become true, because an authentic man cannot lie. That’s why in the old scriptures it is said, “If you are practicing authenticity, be alert not to say anything against anybody — because it can become true.” We have many stories of great seers who said something in anger, but they were so authentic....
You must have heard the name of Durvasa — a great seer, authentic man. If he says something, even he cannot cancel it. If he curses you, the curse is going to come true. If he says, “You will die tomorrow!” you will die tomorrow, because from that source of authenticity the lie is not possible. The whole existence follows an authentic man and then even he cannot cancel it.
It is beautiful. That’s why people go to great seers for their blessing: if they bless, it is going to come true. That is the meaning, nothing else. They go and they ask blessings. If the seer gives the blessings then they are not worried; it is going to happen now, because how can an authentic man say a lie? Even if it is a lie, it is going to be true. So I don’t say, “Tell the truth.” I say, “Be authentic and whatsoever you say is going to be true.”
When I looked into his eyes, I saw a battlefield, I smelled the blood and the shit. He was holding up a decapitated head. Holding it by it's hair. It was dripping blood. Other younger warriors were trilling and "counting coup". It was a dreadful scene.
He looked at me and said:
It is very important."
And when he said that, I realized:
Don't be who they are, don't be who others want you to be, don't be someone else, don't be who you think you should be. Be you, totally and completely you. No excuses. No regrets. And if you don't know who you are... well, OK... you can just be "you not knowing you".
God often speaks to me through books, and I figured that if no one showed up, maybe I'd at least find a book or a CD, and if all else fails, I will have enjoyed a good cup of coffee.
However... always there's the buts and the howevers... it never seemed really practical or possible to commit to being in town at a specific place at a specific time on one of my days off, and I for sure wouldn't be able to commit for the days that I work. So... the idea just sat there... unattended and well... fermenting.
Then, when I was in Texas, my sister and I visited Barnes and Noble and I found a really cool book on the bargain table. The North American Indian by Edward S Curtis.
It was like a revelation. Here was my teacher... here were my teachers... I would take that book home, and every day as part of my morning meditation, I would open the book at random, meet with my teacher, and listen, and learn. Cool huh?
It occured to me that it would be beneficial to post the teachings every day... this way I will be able to "track my progress"... leave a trail so to speak.
The posts are tagged "Morning Meditation" and if I get behind, they will be back dated so that they appear in the blog on the day, and at the approximate time they were received.
Note: I have been enjoying bloggers new feature that allows for scheduled posting, which means that I can have "days off" the internet and yet the blogs keep ticking along. This means, that on my days off, the morning meditation for that day will post a day or two later. If you don't want to miss any of them, you can simply click on the "Morning Meditation" link in the sidebar under Labels, the most recent ones will come up first.
Blessings from my heart to your eyes!
I will remember what I was. I am sick of rope and chain.
I will remember my old strength and all my forest affairs.
I will not sell my back to man for a bundle of sugar-cane,
I will go out to my own kind, and the wood-folk in their lairs.
I will go out until the day, until the morning break,
Out to the winds’ untainted kiss, the waters’ clean caress:
I will forget my ankle-ring and snap my picket-stake.
I will revisit my lost loves, and playmates masterless!
The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling