To go in the dark with a light is to know the light. To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight, and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings, and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.

-Wendell Berry

(Thanks to David Salminen.)

I have news for you:
The stag bells, winter snows, summer has gone
Wind high and cold, the sun low, short its course
The sea running high.
Deep red the bracken; its shape is lost;
The wild goose has raised its accustomed cry,
cold has seized the birds’ wings;
season of ice, this is my news.

9th Century Irish Poem

(Thanks to Liz Weir)

We pause for a moment
– as the Earth does –
between breathing in and breathing out,
aware of the sacred space
that unfolds at a point of stillness.

The word solstice is derived from the Latin sol (sun) and sistere (to stand still), because at the solstices the seasonal movement of the Sun’s path – as seen from Earth – comes to a stop before reversing direction.

— The Sacred Feminine for Life on Facebook

(The photo was taken in January, but it conveys the feeling of Solstice.)

What you encounter, recognize or discover depends to a large degree on the quality of your approach. Many of the ancient cultures practiced careful rituals of approach. An encounter of depth and spirit was preceded by careful preparation.

When we approach with reverence, great things decide to approach us. Our real life comes to the surface and its light awakens the concealed beauty in things. When we walk on the earth with reverence, beauty will decide to trust us. The rushed heart and arrogant mind lack the gentleness and patience to enter that embrace.

by John O’Donohue

This morning the challenge came to me: “Stay in your own skin.” I made the effort to be present  in my own body.  I was content and began to breathe easy. I was  no longer in the mode of hurrying into the future. What a relief!

And I was able to send blessings from my own being down into the heart of Mother Earth.

Time to upgrade. Whatever does that mean? In relationship to the land, our earth? I believe we are seamlessly connected to Mother Earth and that our actions and quality of presence are taken into her very substance–the rocks, rivers, ocean, soil–  and into all life:  plant, animal, and human.

Yes, we all know that when we destroy the rain forests we are cutting off our nose to spite our face; we collectively “kind of” know it.

There is also a more subtle relationship available between ourselves and the Mother. It has to do more with “being” than with “doing.” It has to do with our, as I said, “quality of presence.”

It has to do with how awake or aware we are. Am I here or am I “out to lunch?”  Am I present in the moment? Being present in the moment, I have found, it not easy or “automatic.” It happens through continually rebooting intentional practices invoking presence.

There are many paths and practices that people have followed for millenia. These practices are tried and true. Whatever we choose to try, when we give ourselves to it one hundred percent, we find that they are true– they do lead to a greater sense of presence.

Myriad books have been written on this topic, and many folks are aware of the possibilities (e.g. The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle). More retreats than one can imagine are available for folks to take to help them to “amp up.”

What an exciting time it is to upgrade ourselves for the benefit of all! Whatever our explorations, if they bring increased presence, we are “onto something” and we will be joining in a global upgrade! We will be feeding Mother Earth. She will keep giving back to us– in truth, she never stops.

By giving the blog a new title  Coming home. Offerings to the living land. Mindfulness and the honoring of place., I am reminding myself to focus on how my quality of presence affects the land beneath my feet. It seems to be my North Star. I have been doing practices of presence for quite a while, and I am grateful to have a more refined sense of purpose. I am grateful for all of the help I continue to receive  on the journey, which I call Grace. Without the Grace of the Ineffable, nothing is possible. Nor is it possible without the combined efforts of many over time. May I ever be aware of this.

Today! I will come back again and again to presence by being mindful of each step I take upon the Mother. I will forget…  remember… forget… remember. When I remember, I will hold my attention upon this walkiing meditation with increased sense of purpose due to the new blog title.

One of the most beautiful gifts in the world is the gift of encouragement. When someone encourages you, that person helps you over a threshold you might otherwise never have crossed on your own.
~John O’Donohue

Listen to your being. It is continuously giving you hints; it is a still, small voice. It does not shout at you, that is true. And if you are a little silent you will start feeling your way. Be the person you are. Never try to be another, and you will become mature. Maturity is accepting the responsibility of being oneself, whatsoever the cost. Risking all to be oneself, that’s what maturity is all about.
― Osho

Your innermost sense of self, of who you are, is inseparable from stillness. This is the “I Am” that is deeper than name and form.
~ Eckhart Tolle

All of a sudden this blog has a new title and a new look.  (The old title was “On the Way to Cushendall,” and all of the posts are still there. Click on “About” on the top bar for the story of my blog.)

As usual, when I follow a flash of insight, I doubted myself; I questioned the new title. It seemed like such an abrupt shift. It is about where I wish to be heading without knowing how it will all pan out. In the midst of my doubts, I picked up The Grapes of Wrath and read in the introduction something which resonates with what I am feeling my way into, and the new title. Synchronicity strikes again!

Whatever considerable ends it achieves, Casey’s sojourn brings him to an understanding of “deep ecology,” an egalitarian, biocentric, nonsectarian view in which all things are related and equally valued: “There was the hills, an’ there was me, an’ we wasn’t separate no more. We was one thing. ‘An that one thing was holy,” he tells Tom Joad (emphasis added).

— Robert DeMott in the Introduction to John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath

Thanks to my son Ben for finding the “new look!”