Noticing What I’m Noticing

Ah, 2023 has arrived. What have you noticed in these first days? Me? The weather words: “atmospheric river.” My poetic-self loves imagining what I can create with that. However, California is not fairing well under the weight of the rain these rivers carry and folks and landscapes and beings are suffering. At this writing there seems to be no end in sight.

Weatherscapes are shifting across our planet. Images inundate our social media feeds and from some of my recent readings and webinars, English words (perhaps others, but that is my learned tongue) can lack the deeper meaning needed to convey the urgency behind the shifts. I am not sure what to do with this information yet (except sensing loss and a need to grieve.) I love reading and written words, but there are times written language fails to convey urgency…even my beloved—poetry. So I will continue to explore-expand my connection to the natural world I inhabit. I will take more time when Rain patters on the brim of my hat as I walk and listen to the story Rain may want to share. Those “in-sky” rivers are “raining” down stories. Are we prepared to listen?

Need to Connect Inner & Outer Worlds

Those rivers have remain south of where I live in the Pacific NW. Since the Solstice on December 21st we have had Snow, Ice, Fog, gusty Wind and an abundance of Rain. Even the clarity of Star-strewn nights. For some “the gloom” of this season is as weighty as the rain falling in California. For me, these long dark nights and short days are nourishing. That doesn’t mean I can stay indoors for days on end. I need to physically connect to the land I live on. Feel my feet on Earth. My current residence is on the second story. A lovely nest, but removed from the ground.

The land we live on speaks to us if we listen. We are part of it, not separate from it. Full of stories, like those raindrops. Trees, birds, fungi, stones, bugs, streams, all the beings that surround us are alive with wisdom. In my listening to them, I have come to understand they story me. Everywhere I have lived or visited has dropped stories in me. And I in them. We are deeply intertwined.

Need For Literal Grounding

When I don’t get outside, I stay inside….my head that is. That can be okay for a day or two, but it gets claustrophobic in there. I need the wisdom of others, whether human or other species to keep my pondering from being infinitely self-reflecting and self-serving. I’m just not that into myself. Where do you find your connections? Is it in nature? Community? Cosmos? A combination? What helps you get “out of your head” when you have spent too much time cruising around up there? Please share your ways of connecting.

Welcoming Wholeness

I mentioned in my Autumn Newsletter I was asked to take part in Portland Threshold Singers Winter Solstice offering. The theme was “Welcoming in Wholeness in Winter.” At first glance “wholeness” may conjure the ideal of “perfection” or “completeness.” As a reforming perfectionist I instinctively rebel against that definition. But as I prepared for my part in the event (a small invitational reading at the beginning and facilitating the labyrinth walk,) I dug deeper. Who is included in my perception of wholeness? What has influenced my idea of “whole?” Does in it include community? Even my own body is made up of many biomes and portals. I can never be “complete.” When I read the book “No Bad Parts” about Internal Family Systems by Dr. Richard Schwartz, I learned about the Self and the other selves within me. So how does “wholeness” look in that system as I sort through integrating my various “selves?” I discerned that wholeness needed to be held loosely and there was no one “right” way to define it. Yes, like a journey with Grief or healing or faith, “whole" will shift depending on my awareness of the stories that have been part of my life…and lands storying me. I’ve included some of the reflection questions offered during the event down below if you would like to ponder on the meaning of “wholeness” for you at this time in your life.

Setting Intentions, Holding Them Loosely

I am not one to do big “resolutions” at the turning of the calendar (Solstice or Gregorian.) I do like to set intentions though. As I have mentioned previously, I am in the market for a home that has enough land to build a labyrinth. This is a strong call. Also a place to gather community. To participate in a more expanded way than I have the last few years. I am energized by this shift. And while I have some sense of how it will “look” I am holding it loosely as I wait for the land to welcome me and the rest to unfold.

How have you approached the turning of the calendar? It is different for everyone. Perhaps you set intentions monthly, with each season, another way that works for you or never. I’d be curious to hear your ideas.

Lingering Grief from the Holidays?

Holidays can stir up even Grief and losses experienced long ago, let alone recent losses. The missing of our special folks made acutely present. Events not feeling “right.” A gnawing sense of loss. And more. And then the “new year” arrives and everyone around you returns to “normal” and perhaps you are like “Wait! What just happened?” Whether your loss is fresh or freshly turned over, my Mentor, Grief, invites you to take the time to name the loss and honor it. Perhaps a ritual such as lighting a candle and sitting quietly or saying “You are still remembered” or preparing a special meal. Or your own intuitive ideas. Trust yourself with this. Let me know what arises for you.

Gratitude for an Infusion of Energy

As January’s days start ticking off on the calendar, I am full of both/ands. I am relishing the cool dark, the invitation to rest and will be taking a short retreat at the end of the month to my beloved North Oregon Coast. AND I am full of energy and ideas. I am sensing a year of growth and opportunity. I am enthused. Sure, there will be bumps on the path…a path that is not yet revealed. So off we go. I look forward to sharing more as this mushy thing we call Time unfolds. And please, let me know how you are being.

with deep gratitude,

anne

For Your Reflection

• what have you noticed the first days of this new year (how ever you define that?) what do those noticings stir in you? any “beautiful questions” (as poet David Whyte would say) arising?

• if you live in winter climes, do you relish the dark or is it difficult for you? how do you care for yourself and/or others who may have SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) to manage during these short daylight hours. if this time of year seems to drag on, i imagine my relishing this time of year can be annoying!

• how do you connect with the landscape around you? how does it feel to wonder that the land, trees, birds, stones, etc may have their own stories? how do you imagine places you have lived have storied you? how might you have storied them? a great resource for exploring this is Sharon Blackie’s book “If Women Rose Rooted”…and yes, anyone can gain insights from reading this, not just “women.”

• do you ever get stuck in your head? we live in a very “thinking” culture that avoids honoring the wonders of our body. walking the land is one way i get out of my head. what are some ways you get out of your thinking mind, if this is a concern for you?

• what is your process for making intentions (for a new year or otherwise?) after you make them are you able to hold them loosely? do you share with someone else? is it okay to let them go and revise or redo at another time in the year?

• are you treating yourself with kindness and gentleness these days? how does that look? if not, how might you make the shift to be kinder and gentler with yourself?

  Here are a few of the Wholeness invitations/reflections from the Solstice event on the words: “wholeness” and “whole”:

• do i welcome all aspects or parts of myself with kindness and tenderness…even those i am uncomfortable with. my broken places. perhaps consider the beauty of a stained glass window.

• how does it feel to embody wholeness? what senses help me explore wholeness?

• what does wholeness look like when i am in community?

• how wide or close in is my world? what might it look like to include other beings, such as trees, animals, waterways, life seen and unseen around me? stars and galaxies?

Spiritual Companionship Referrals Appreciated

Most of my directees come into my presence by word of mouth. A few via the Spiritual Directors’ International website. And some through a Google search! Your confidence in me to say to a friend, a colleague, another professional that what I offer may be of benefit to someone grieving or needing support on their life journey is something I honor deeply. I am grateful for your support.

I have space available and am looking forward to welcoming those who sense a spiritual companion may be the person they would like to invite on their journey. I meet with folks via Zoom or in-person. Check out my spiritual direction/companionship webpage for details about my philosophy and how a session may unfold. And please reach out if you have any questions.

Odds and Ends

Reading to further my understanding of Grief: “The Grieving Brain, The Surprising Science of How We Learn from Love and Loss,” by Mary-Frances O’Connor, PhD. One of my directees recommended this. Thankfully it isn’t about “grief is all in your head” and here is “how to cure it” but how our marvelous brains connect relationally to losses and grieve through a neuroscience perspective. Sounds dry, but it is well written from a storytelling perspective. Plus the author does a great job of explaining why the “five stages of grief” took hold even though it wasn’t a clinically proven model. I always give points to a writer that works to shift our cultural conversation around that now debunked “theory." Side note: This isn’t to denigate Elizabeth Kubler-Ross and her ground breaking role in bringing death awareness to our Western culture’s attention. Unfortunately her work has been taken out of context and “mainstreamed” to the point other research-based approaches to bereavement support have been drowned out. (I just attended an education event on this that was great.)

I also appreciate how the author separates “grieving” from “grief.” She says, “Grief is a moment that recurs over and over. However, the moments are distinct from what I call grieving, the word I use to refer to the process, not the moment of grief. Grieving has a trajectory.” (pg xvi) That is why Grief lasts a lifetime.

It is based on research in the western world, so there is that bias. But anything that improves our cultural awareness about Grief seems positive to me. Though I’m not done reading the book, noting the bias, I would still recommend.

Reading for FUN (and yes, I have an odd idea of fun:) This is a slow read, like walking the land. “Thirty-Two Words for Field, Lost words of the Irish Landscape,” by Manchán Magan is fascinating. How many places in your neighborhood are named after people or seem rather bland. Okay, maybe just mine. In the Irish language “every word has layers of wisdom and insight encoded in it that allow us to delve deeper into the psyche and landscape of the island.” (from the book jacket.)

I am curious about and love to play with language and have recently been listening to some webinars and have been doing some reading on mythology that explore the origins of words…oral and written. My book list keeps growing!

For the curious: One weekly email I receive that is full of words and images…and information is The Marginalian by Maria Popova. She has links to a month’s worth of rabbit holes every Sunday. The week between Christmas and New Year’s Day I watched her limited time offering “The Universe in Verse” recording of a live broadcast made among the Redwoods in the Spring of 2022. Though the broadcast is no longer available, here is the link to watch individual segments. Here is one of my favorites: Bloom, a poem by Emily Dickinson.

Poem to Wrap it Up

I cut several items from this post. They can wait. There is time to allow for the simmering, right? So I will end with this: As I was preparing for the Winter Solstice event I took part in, I selected a few poems that felt appropriate to offer as invitations to walk the labyrinth. One that resonates with me that I have on my “vision” board for the year is Journey by Roselle Angwin.

Journey

The land streams past the window.

The heart asks for both clarity and paradox,

aches equally for freedom and for joining,

being part of and apart.

Oh to be like a tree. To be that horse

dreaming, one hoof delicately pointed,

muzzle lowered and relaxed,

at home completely in the day.

Tell me the truest thing you can,

is what this journey seems to say.