Retreat Journey

This picture was taken years ago, in the back of my former neighbour's property. During the years I lived there it was very much a retreat for me. It was where I went when I needed to
process an event in my life, whether it was happy or sad.
In summer, it was a shady haven, with a superb canopy of trees. In winter, the ferns and the grasses showed their beauty.

And the smell! As long as I live, I won't forget the smell of the dark, fecund earth and the mouldering leaves that surrounded this pond. To this gardener, that scent is full of the promise of wonderful fertility.

It was a great spot for a retreat. But time moves on, and I moved with it. Now, in my lessons, it was time to find an inner space...a place where I could find safety and peace in an ever-increasing chaotic world. I would journey from here and seek answers to my questions. I would talk with my guides here.

I meditate under Grandfather Tree. I remember Maggie's directions, breathing deeply. I ground and centre. And then I travel to where I find the doorway. There is a fire, sending fragrant sage smoke over the area.

I bathe myself in the sage smoke, take my blue stone, and look out the doorway, through the leaves, at the paths ahead. A caressing breeze directs my eye upward, and I see Mother Goose flying above me, circling, her long neck stretched forward. Aho, I say to her, which path would you suggest I take? With a long honk, and another circle, she veers off over the West path, towards the Ocean.

I hear an odd boom behind me, and even with my mind taken up with the Ocean path, I turn to look…

I am standing beneath a fallen maple tree. Its root system offers much protection from the elements, some of them howling about me with full force. And just ahead of me is a sandy cliff, at the bottom of which, Ocean is adding her crashing cymbals to the symphony of the storm. It is a most wonderful day! It lifts my heart to the heavens.

And I notice, just to the left of me, sheltered by Maple tree roots, is a hut made of earth and grass. The rounded roof is ablaze with fall’s last concert, with coneflower, rudbeckia, coreopsis and grasses completing a riotous painting. Every flower dances to her own song in the wind, whirling and waving about with mad exuberance.

Behind the hut, I can see an herb garden. Most of the herbs have been harvested now, but there is still much evidence of parsley and rosemary, two of my plant helpers. Pink Dawn roses cling to an arbour over a path leading to the little patch of herbs, their delicate blossoms somehow withstanding the force of the wind. I smell the earth; deep and woodsy and fecund. And the smell of stirred up ocean waters—fresh and clean and briny. The scents combine with that of the wet, mossy earth after the rain squall just passing.

I walk to the entrance of the sod hut and enter. Darkness. A warm, comforting velvety darkness enfolds me. I feel protected and warm. The sounds of the storm outside are muffled, like a muted stereo. Background music. I take a deep breath, and open…really open… my eyes.

A fire in the stone fireplace ahead of me burns, at times sending sage scented smoke into the room. Shelves of books, with all my favourite authors…King, Myss, Estes, Sheehy and many more, line the fireplace wall. On the other wall sits a computer desk, with filing cabinets, a computer and more treasures I will become familiar with. I place my blue stone amongst them. Two overstuffed chairs face the fireplace. Candles burn on every available surface…and yet even with the candles and the smoky fireplace, the air smells sweet and fresh.

I enter the kitchen area. Brick ovens emit the faint scent of countless fruit pies cooked to perfection many times before. Herbs line the window shelf, and dried bundles of herbs line the ceiling. The smell of bread rising stimulates my appetite. This kitchen is all about the scents involved with food…all about the love poured into the dinners, lunches and breakfasts prepared throughout the ages. This kitchen immediately makes me feel at home.

I wander back to the fire, and sit in one of the chairs. This one is my chair, I tell myself, it fits my body perfectly. I place my feet on the ottoman in front of me, wrap my red shawl around my shoulders, and watch the flames. I feel at peace.

I wake in my chair in front of Grandfather Tree, knowing I can go back to my Retreat any time I feel a need. It is a place sacred to me, and I will take my time learning and honouring this space. It is protective…the smell of sage, the herbs in the kitchen, Maple tree…all tell me so. Nothing can hurt me here. I give thanks to the Creator for giving me this wonderful hovel…for that is what it is…a hovel with all the conveniences!

A hovel right beside the ocean, in the forest…could anyone ask for more?

Bear, Owl and Condor

I thought I would write a little more about my Power Animals, as I did in the post Totem Animal. The characteristics and meanings of these animals resonate deeply within me. When they appear, I know to be extra aware and vigilant.

I have always known about Bear. I was given a stuffed teddy when I was born, and my dreams reflected the animal in my arms. Before I went to sleep at night, I would imagine being warm and snuggly in my cave. Thus caves, consequently, also engender a great fascination, both fearful and comforting, in me.

Not long ago,I experienced a hot springs cave.When I walked through the silken, warm water that swirled around my knees, I let my fingers touch the walls of the tunnel I was in. Sensual and slick, they felt like the imagined walls of a womb, and I could feel the vibrations enter all of me. Much dialogue passed between the walls and I, wandering alone, lost in awe. It was Bear that showed me such beauty and peace in the womb of Mother Earth.

Bear is the creature of dreams. I am a dreamer, and I can get caught up in the dreaming, as Bear people are wont to do, making small progress in waking reality. Bear gives me the confident courage to face change and transformation in a firm manner, standing and facing my fear. His gift to me is astral travel, and visionary dreaming, where he is my protector. Bear tells me when it is time to withdraw, go deep into meditation into the beyond, and grasp the answers that are mine, if I dig deep enough with Bear’s clawed paws. When Bear appears, in any new phase in my life, it is written that the new endeavor will take two years to mature, during which time Bear will teach and give me strength to endure.

Owl, too, appears at the beginning of new paths. Owl gives me the courage to follow my instincts, my intuition. He gives me silent wisdom, vision, hearing, the ability to pinpoint subtleties of motives in people. Owl is the link between the dark, unseen world where I sometimes travel, and the world of light. He helps me understand my shadow self. Shortly after Gray and I moved in together, Owl appeared in the back garden, not fifteen feet from where we were sitting. We have two large dogs, and Owl knew this…he bided his time until the dogs went in and we stayed out…not something that happened very often. He sat and communed with us for a long time…and then he flew right towards us, right towards the house, and over the gate.

Now he reminds me of his presence when I sit on the stoop during a sleepless night…his call is a welcome one for me. It tells me Owl is watching out for me with more awareness than I alone could ever muster, especially in the shadowy fields of the dark night.

Bear and Owl are two animals I have always known. Just a few days ago, however, during a deep trance induced by a Reiki treatment, to my complete surprise, Condor appeared. I had absolutely no knowledge of Condor…it is not a bird that lives in my area, or a bird that I ever evinced any interest in. In my dreaming, he was sitting on a ledge, a precipice. Far below, I could see a valley and trees, with a creek burbling over small stones. Fish were teeming in the stream. It must have been a spawning period, for there were carcasses everywhere on the bank of the creek. Bear appeared, grunting his gratitude with the bounty that was swirling around his belly. Condor, with his keen eyes, helped me see a great distance, made the scene crystal clear.

In my research, I find this poem...

To A Buzzard Swinging in Silence


I never knew how fair a thing
was freedom, till i saw you swing,
Ragged, exultant, black and high,
Against a hollow, windy sky.
You that with such a horrid gait
Lumbers and flops with red, raw pate.
I never knew how beauty grew
from ugliness, until you flew
With soaring, somber, steady beat
Of wings rough-edged to grip the fleet
Far coursing horses of the sky--
To ride, to ride them gloriously.
Oh, brother buzzard, you whose sin
On earth is to be shackled in
To horror, teach me how to go
Like you, to beauty, sure and slow.
Like you, to slip some carrion ties
And lift and lift to high, clean skies,
Where winds and sun and silence ride,
Like you, oh Buzzard, glorified.


~Marjory Stoneman Douglas

Condor, or vulture, cleans up messes, the detritus left behind from animals, or humans, usually after the primary killer of the animal has eaten his fill. Condor is telling me I have created a physical and psychic mess, one I don’t want to deal with. By not facing and remedying the situation, my mess has actually wreaked havoc on my system. Condor will help me to eliminate old patterns and character aspects that no longer serve me.

Condor will make me conscious of my transformation, giving me balance and harmony. He purifies the soul, showing me divine, deep love. He gives me the gift of auric vision, so that I may see with full awareness. And he will introduce me, clear the path for me, towards conversations with my guides. Condor has given me permission to use his power, surprising as this may be to me, and I will ask to speak with him further. Perhaps Condor will help me clean up my psychic “mess”, will help change permanently any beliefs I have that are hindering me.

Already, Condor has taught me that answers to our inner questions come in the most surprising of ways, and he has taught me keen awareness of the work required to truly change my beliefs.

All of these animals deal with transformation, Shamanism, death and rebirth. I realized the other day that I was fighting terrifically hard to not “know” this side of myself, not utilizing my writing to its fullest potential, and not using my healing knowledge, all gifts which when not used, spurns spirit and God. And I asked myself why. Why was I trying so hard to deny the spiritual side of myself, when this was the only way that made me happy and at peace? How had I created this mess? It was fear of being different, of having to defend my way. It was my fear that I was not good enough to be in the company of the wise, my belief that I was too odd to be part of the ordinary people. It was my fear that I may not ever fit in anywhere. So I never tried.

Bear, Owl and Condor truly give me power and understanding to change this belief, and consequently my reality.

A Different Christmas

Gray and I have already celebrated Christmas twice this year...Heidi, Darren and Bree are off to Mexico, and so are Scott and Leanne. We didn't manage to all get together at once; hence the two events.

This Christmas I notice my acceptance of life's moments...be they good or bad...is much greater than in previous years. Practicing Shamanism, and assimilating it into my life, has finally brought balance, and with it, a huge measure of serenity and peace.

We have had problems with the Christmas season...it was during the holidays that my daughter died. It was a very long time before I was able to enjoy Christmas again. Two years ago, however, Gray gave me a Reiki treatment that finally, finally removed some of the blockages in my chakras; and enabled me to see the rest far more clearly. And then Shaman Maggie and Shamanism came into my life. Instead of viewing the world through pain-filled memories, once I put the balance meter in motion, and practiced the exercises Maggie gave me...things fell into place. Rather easily, so easily in fact that I felt suspicious of this new found grace I had been given. It took some time before I realized the tools I had discovered, along with asking my guides for help, would work in any situation.

And so I applied the balance, help from guides, and Reiki to Dad's death. This event could, a few years ago, have placed me in a terrible place...one of depression and anger and pain.It was the memories, you see. Any event that displayed a likeness to the time of grief I experienced with my daughter's death would trigger strong waves of grief. It still happens, after almost nine years. But now, I no longer have to reel under the strength of the waves...I have learned, as a surfer does, how to ride and balance the powerful surges.

Christmas, this year, instead of being celebrated under a pall of grief and sadness, was an extremely happy, joyous occasion. Gray and I did well on our choice of gifts to the family...not always the case when giving to a different generation. I received a lug made out of entirely recycled materials, filled with exquisite presents; the socks alone, made out of some soft material, made me feel so pampered. And Gray is still anticipating using his Home Depot gift card. Gift cards are so delicious in that the joy is given threefold...once, when you receive it, twice, when you think of all the things you could use it for, then the third time...when you finally buy the long thought out item.

And because the gifts were taken care of so early--- we have the next two weeks to appreciate the spirituality of the season. To relax. To listen to Christmas concerts, and Christmas videos. To watch the moon and stars and reflect on times past...times that led to this path I am presently travelling.

A different Christmas, to be sure. One of peace, love and happiness. How incredible is that?

An Early Christmas Present

Gray's son Scott and his girlfriend Leanne gave me a Buddha board for Christmas. I received it early because they're both going to be enjoying Christmas holidays in Mexico.

This is an incredible gift, to this wannabe painter. The board sits at an angle on a black base. I filled the base with pebbles and water. A brush has convenient storage on the base. I paint what I consider masterpieces, and watch as the water dries, creating foggy images that somehow look better as they fade.

I use it to practice drawing Reiki symbols. Sometimes I'll ask a question for my guides and watch as the water dries to see if an answer shows itself. Watching the water drying is recuperative, soothing. The board is very conducive to clearing the mind of intruding, harsh thoughts in preparation for meditation.

The buddha board, according to the information on it, can be found at www.buddhaboard.com . I know nothing about it, really...I don't even know what kind of material it's made out of. But I so enjoy people just picking up that brush, and painting whatever comes to mind, knowing it will only take a few minutes to dry and so erase whatever was painted, whatever emotion prompted the image.

Sometimes, I'll get up on the wrong side of the bed, and paint a scream, or perhaps a happy face, if I feel great. Sometimes I'll wet the whole board, revelling in the soothing black void it presents. Not stable enough for children, the board gives adults a chance to remember childhood fingerpainting.

Someone came to the door the other day, collecting for the Cancer Society, and as he was waiting for me to find my purse, he edged closer to the board. I suggested he try it. An older gentleman, he seemed a little embarassed as he painted a circle, stood back, added eyes, stood back, and painted in a mouth, turned down at the corners.

Oh, I said to him, he doesn't look very happy. No, he said, but I feel better now. He never elaborated on his comment, but he did look a little brighter when he left.

And that's what the board does. It gives balance to my creative and emotional bodies. It lets me forget the worries of mundane life. As I watch the image fade, it is as if problems fade with it.

So, thank you, Scott and Leanne, for knowing me so well, and for bringing this incredible tool into my life.

Awareness

Before I studied with Shaman Maggie, I practiced awareness as much as a person with limited knowledge of what she might be looking for, could. I remember (here we go, down memory lane…it’s MY blog, heehee) taking my granddaughter when she was a baby down to what she had aptly named the Secret Forest. We owned three acres, and the back part of it was wild forest. I would point out tiny plants…wee stars and trilliums, violets and many mushrooms. I would show her the fronds of the ferns as they unfurled their leaves in the spring. We noticed many things on those walks. We practiced and the more we did that, more would show themselves to us.

Partly as a result of this practice Bree, my granddaughter, has honed her intuitive awareness. It gives her sureness, and a very positive outlook. In order to make her appreciate her homework (Huh!), I tell her knowledge is strength. She shrugs her shoulders, and then proceeds to tell me she just “knows” inside her tummy and heart. She is far and away more aware and has more faith in herself than I ever was. And she’s only ten.

But I have really digressed. I could write about Bree until the snow settles in summer, and probably will. Be warned.


As I study with Maggie, one sentence in a lesson on Allies, really resonated with me, and that is “As you progress through your studies your level of awareness will expand to include things you barely noticed before.” Other people ‘see’ their allies in dreams and meditations, but I only hear them. My auditory sense is turned way up in a meditation or a visualization; and in dreams, sounds are amplified for me.

Convinced that this would be another exercise in “hearing” my allies, rather than seeing, I spent a lot of time listening for words of wisdom from all sorts of beings, including the Sequoia in my yard. The Sequoia told me in no uncertain terms he was not only an ally of mine, though, he was much more than that to me at the present time, and he advised me not to look so hard. The Sequoia told me to relax a bit, and to have fun, while I was searching. He told me my allies were all around me.

“Huh!” said I. And then sat back, took a long drink of my water, and prepared myself for a relaxing, fun meditation. Never let it be said I don’t do what I’m told, I said to myself, especially when the advice came from the mammoth tree whose power resonates throughout our property. Both Gray and I have always been aware of his strength and influence on our lives since we moved here. Once again, I felt it was prudent to honour the tree, and listen carefully, and with intent.

Concentrating on my breathing, I checked my balance meter and my chakras, and felt myself slipping into dreaming. I was sitting directly in front of the tree, and became assimilated into the gnarly bark…and then there was no tree, or chair, or yard. I was tumbling through a spiral of colours…mostly greens and purples, which became deeper in tone, until I was surrounded by a deep purply blue. Plummeting further through the soft, sensuous night-sky void, I felt only awe and wonder…wanting the gentle twists and twirls I was undergoing to never end, inhaling the blue into my very soul.

I rolled into a smooth, unforgiving, very hard boulder. My fingers slid over its smooth, undulating surface, one that vibrated and sent out messages to my touch. The light was shining from behind the boulder, although I could not see the source. The back lighting gave the boulder a halo, and put the crevices in its hide into sharp relief. The boulder grew and grew in my vision. And then, in a deep, gravelly voice, it spoke with me, slowly and ponderously. And its words dripped with wisdom and age.

I felt the power of the rock melting into my solar plexus, bathing me in golden light. Rock’s words calmed me and filled me with resolve. Rock used hard language, albeit in a gentle manner…words that reverberated and vibrated within me. Words I had always known, but had forgotten.

Rock asked me questions. He did not expect immediate answers…he asked me to listen to the questions, and find my own answers. His queries were delivered in a slightly sarcastic manner, as if he knew this was a comfortable and humourous way for me to hear. Rock asked me why I was convinced my totems and allies were hiding from me. Why was I not seeing? What did I expect? Was I not aware of places and beings that made me feel secure and warm and good? Was I not aware of aid I was receiving on a daily basis, just by walking around my yard? Did I not read and research the internet on a daily basis, learning about allies and totems? What was it I did not understand?

Rock asked me to touch his face. Angular and chiseled, round and softly molded, sharp and wicked…all those descriptions flashed through my mind as my hand slipped through the cracks and crevices of the stone visage. Rivers and waterfalls coursed down his cheeks, making him appear sad, but the twinkle in his soul belied the façade he showed outwardly. My hand caressed his face, and waves of familiar energy coursed throughout my body, instilling instant peace. And knowledge.

I suddenly knew why so many rocks and boulders were delivered when we landscaped the back yard…a mistake made by the supplier, which we didn’t even have to pay for…which made me joke, for a time, about the quarry in the backyard. So many rocks that I easily placed, making raised beds around the perimeter of the back yard and the vegetable garden. It was the ease with which I “planted” the rocks that amazed Graham. He said he had never seen anyone work with rocks the way I did, so quickly and effortlessly. And it was, and still is, a real joy for me to heft and place a stone or a boulder, touching and communing with it. The boulders underneath Sequoia were picked out of a pile, and three of them became part of the Medicine Wheel constructed around the tree.

I was surrounded by allies. Rock knew the instant I made the connection, and a long rumble, which I assumed was laughter, issued forth from deep inside him….deep in the caves and fissures, right from his core. I chuckled with him…there is not much I enjoy more than a good laugh at myself, when I can get all bent out of shape about something, and then find how simple it all is.

Feeling the blue beginning to surround me again, I thanked Rock and watched him fade, swallowed up by the swirling colours of blue and purple and gold that took me back to my chair. Blinking, I woke staring at the ragged looking Sequoia bark, feeling the tree shiver with delight at my comprehension of my allies. It was a good joke on me!

I have dishes and pottery bowls filled with pebbles and rocks from various places around the West Coast of North America. I have, for a couple of years now, immersed myself in the study of rocks and crystals, use many crystals in healing…and have even placed two special rocks in the shower. People gift me with rocks…Scott, Graham’s son, brought me a beautiful, flat sandstone rock from the river. I saw the presence in Scott’s rock…a diaphanous, luminous being, a long slender reed of light…and I remember the warning given to me by Rock. He said that stones have been around a long time, and their stored energy may not be a match for mine, and to be discriminatory. I have since read the old Shamans sometimes stored their souls in stones, and the unknown author in that article advises leaving those stones alone. I cannot say for certain that all my rocks have pleasant personalities, as there are so many of them, but I handled each and every one, and felt no negativity…and the garden is thriving! To be sure, I will prepare a blessing for an early morning, when the world is asleep and I should be…

Wind, water and fire are all equally allies of mine. Wind, with its whisper soft messages or howling rages, gives me inspiration and clarity of thought. Water cleanses me, will take my troubles and wash them away, and soothes me in the form of misty rain that drips from my window. Fire comforts me, with its warmth and beauty. Fire takes my intentions to the Source, and its smoke cleanses and replaces negative energy, in myself and my place.

Even though my immediate world is filled with stones, I never associated them with my allies. This tells you where my head is at these days…something as obvious as Rock as an ally was passed over, even though I had read they could be strong allies. Stubborn and slow, they possess an unparalleled sense of humour, and I love and honour each and every one.

And when I tell Bree, she smiles a secretive little grin, and goes back to collecting the stones and pebbles she’s gathered since babyhood.