(This bit of fiction came out of timed writing in Laguna Writers workshop this week. Here's the cleaned up version. I'm including it here, for it reflects where some of us are with seasonal cycles.)
Spring arrived yesterday, but I wasn't answering the door. Or perhaps I was out getting turkey meatloaf. It was a pajama day for me, unlike the wishful lollers in Dolores Park wearing flip flops and tank tops. I just pulled my East Coast coat over the Italian men's pj top and old baggy ass sweats. Stomper boots kept me grounded, not getting carried away by the promiscuous Chinese magnolia defining magenta on Hancock. I was still hibernating.
Spring arrived yesterday, rang my doorbell and waited. She looked up and watched the Tibetan prayer flags being pushed around by the wind. The plum tree was like me, not getting enough sun to bursth forth and blossom. Spring looked inside my mailbox - phone bill, junk mail, a catalog from an expensive clothing store.
Spring took her bright pink shiny hardcase on rollers and sat on the studio bench outside. She fingered the individualized clay tiles, looked up at the sign. Yes, a pottery studio. Spring wanted a clove cigarette, but realized she no longer smoked, giving way to her delicate petal lungs. Spring looked in her handbag and left me a calling card:
"Dearie, missed you today. Be back soon. Get ready." And this is what I found, walking home with my turkey meatloaf and digging in the dusty copper mailbox. Her note all fresh and frothy.
I unpeeled my coat, dumped the note, and headed for the kitchen. I put the turkey meatloaf in the fridge, made some Mexican hot chocolate with almond milk, and got back under the covers where I belonged. The lump at the foot of the bed moved, and my cat shimmied out, disoriented. He flopped down by my hand topside for a belly rub, while I sipped the Mexican hot chocolate.
Warmth went through me, and I tried not to think of Spring's threatened return. She'd come and stay and be too cheery, and the apartment would feel too small. I'd have to make up work gigs in other places. Leave her here with her fairy dust wands, while I hunkered down in some friend's walk-in closet, guest room, or far off cabin.
For now I wanted to still the hands on my alarm clock, keep time with my cat purring under my fingers, and grow my Mexican hot chocolate belly. I had five weeks until equinox, dammit, and I was going to have my Winter, no matter what anyone else thought. Spring was coming for sure, but my cocoon pod time would not come around again for another year. I wasn't going to miss out on the big, delicious Nothing this time. Something always comes from Nothing, that I knew for sure.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Red Fox
Certain times in my life I'm graced by magic. I go out into nature or for a wonder walk in the city and get slammed by the beauty of life. That's what this blog is about, staying awake and open to beauty, and therefore experiencing something wonderful. Cocooned for most of the Winter, the most astounding thing to me lately has been my warm blankets.
On Valentine's Day, I was sitting on a bench in the arboretum of Golden Gate Park with my man. We were talking about things that were causing us stress: money, work, sex. After 23 years together, we were feeling humbled by our everyday struggles. Trying to hold space for all that amidst the enormity of our great good fortune.
He sighted it then, a keen-snouted, bushy-tailed red fox, coming out into the open and disappearing into the underbrush. We were maybe 30 feet away, but this gorgeous creature was meant for us.
That red fox was like an arrow. Its keen snout and ears pointing the way with a lush full tail streaming straight out behind it. With luxurious thick-looking fur and clear markings, he or she looked well-fed on quail, squirrels, gophers, and other fellow park residents.
Elation might be the right word, this lightness in my heart and the happy-making repetition of our sighting. Later I found that the red fox brings the Medicine of kundalini energy, sexuality and life-force; shapeshifting; and knowing when to hide and when to come out into the open.
Dear Red Fox, Thank you for bringing hope and the power of shapeshifting. As Winter melts away into Spring, we're all counting on your Medicine to renew and revive for another round on the big wheel of life.
On Valentine's Day, I was sitting on a bench in the arboretum of Golden Gate Park with my man. We were talking about things that were causing us stress: money, work, sex. After 23 years together, we were feeling humbled by our everyday struggles. Trying to hold space for all that amidst the enormity of our great good fortune.
He sighted it then, a keen-snouted, bushy-tailed red fox, coming out into the open and disappearing into the underbrush. We were maybe 30 feet away, but this gorgeous creature was meant for us.
That red fox was like an arrow. Its keen snout and ears pointing the way with a lush full tail streaming straight out behind it. With luxurious thick-looking fur and clear markings, he or she looked well-fed on quail, squirrels, gophers, and other fellow park residents.
Elation might be the right word, this lightness in my heart and the happy-making repetition of our sighting. Later I found that the red fox brings the Medicine of kundalini energy, sexuality and life-force; shapeshifting; and knowing when to hide and when to come out into the open.
Dear Red Fox, Thank you for bringing hope and the power of shapeshifting. As Winter melts away into Spring, we're all counting on your Medicine to renew and revive for another round on the big wheel of life.
Friday, February 5, 2010
24-3-7
Winter is the season of mending and tending. Relationships need care all year round, but the dark season somehow illuminates where we need to clearly say NO or YES to people and situations that are not right for us.
One of my teachers Angeles Arrien has a 24-3-7 rule. When a problem arises, it's your responsibility to address it within 24 hours. If you can't do that, do it within 3 days. And if you can't do that, do it within 7 days. A week is enough time to be unresolved with yourself and with another.
24-3-7 holds space and time for a truly creative response to the problem. For visually dominant people - those who sense the world most strongly through sight and images - it takes a long time to even realize that something off-kilter happened. Then it takes more time to know their feelings about it and to get clear on a creative response. 7 days gives even slow processors a limit to being swamped by a problem.
If you are somatic or kinesthetic, you are at an advantage in knowing sooner that something needs to be addressed. The wise body does not lie, gives clues to what is amiss with common symptoms like insomnia, upset stomach, or headache.
This happened to me recently with a client. It took telling the story many times to colleagues before I heard what I was saying. I did not feel good about working with this person, and my body symptoms were saying NO. My process unfolded slowly over the week, and by the time I was clear, I had to wait a few more days to be able to reach this person. I said what I needed to say to this person, and it was done within 7 days.
Even if you are a slow processor, fearful of speaking up and rocking the boat, do it. Take that 7 days if you need to, but listen to your wise body and practice saying NO to people, places, things that are not right for you. It opens the door to be able to say YES to what is nourishing for your journey.
One of my teachers Angeles Arrien has a 24-3-7 rule. When a problem arises, it's your responsibility to address it within 24 hours. If you can't do that, do it within 3 days. And if you can't do that, do it within 7 days. A week is enough time to be unresolved with yourself and with another.
24-3-7 holds space and time for a truly creative response to the problem. For visually dominant people - those who sense the world most strongly through sight and images - it takes a long time to even realize that something off-kilter happened. Then it takes more time to know their feelings about it and to get clear on a creative response. 7 days gives even slow processors a limit to being swamped by a problem.
If you are somatic or kinesthetic, you are at an advantage in knowing sooner that something needs to be addressed. The wise body does not lie, gives clues to what is amiss with common symptoms like insomnia, upset stomach, or headache.
This happened to me recently with a client. It took telling the story many times to colleagues before I heard what I was saying. I did not feel good about working with this person, and my body symptoms were saying NO. My process unfolded slowly over the week, and by the time I was clear, I had to wait a few more days to be able to reach this person. I said what I needed to say to this person, and it was done within 7 days.
Even if you are a slow processor, fearful of speaking up and rocking the boat, do it. Take that 7 days if you need to, but listen to your wise body and practice saying NO to people, places, things that are not right for you. It opens the door to be able to say YES to what is nourishing for your journey.
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