For almost the first time I had an experience of location, and of being where I belonged. Tony seemed to give me the earth; that is to say, he gave me what I had always missed, a relatedness to my surroundings, and I could breathe in peace, with no need to struggle. For this, then, I would have to exchange everything in the world that I had known, and that had been far too little to live on.
— Mabel Dodge Luhan, Edge of Taos Desert: An Escape to Reality, p. 228
… a wonderful evenness marked my days and nights so that waking and sleeping I felt a sweet balance that was delicate and strong. To know this equilibrium was such a positive experience that every hour I renewed my consciousness of it, turning to it, feeling it in wonder and humility.
When I was with Tony (Luhan), I was in tune with all outdoors and with myself as well, for the first time in my life. I felt real at last… a true reality of my own was coming into being within me… I could sit in the window and look out on the world and know that I was part of it.
— Mabel Dodge Luhan, Edge of Taos Desert: An Escape to Reality, 245
Each morning when I do my nature meditation, I do a nine-step process of inner focus. The second step is “anchor.” This morning my attention was arrested by this step. I became aware, rather in surprise, of how I was constantly balancing myself minutely in order to remain upright. I could feel the changing pressure on different areas of the soles of my feet. It was bitterly cold, and the cold threatened to penetrate my body. I thought, “My body has to work hard to balance the external cold, and it isn’t up to it this morning.” I retreated into the house.
A few minutes later, in the warmth of the house, I became aware of a column of concentrated balance that coincided with my spine. When I rest in the column of balance, I feel awake and aware, capable of “choice.” I feel a continuous, unbroken awareness.
Whereas before I had identified “anchoring” as having a solid, rock-like quality, I discovered that anchoring is a process of continual balancing, involving subtle adjustments in my body. This happens all the time without my awareness, or I wouldn’t be able to keep standing. When I add awareness to this balance, it becomes a means of maintaining conscious balance, a way for me to maintain mindfulness.
And– mindfulness matters to me.
This morning there was a cold wind coming in from the southeast. I wanted to go back inside, but I resisted the impulse, although my hands were cold. I stayed for the 5 minute meditation, uncertain of what the teaching would be. Then, I noticed how the snow had melted above the stepping stones of the path that goes from the front to the side of the house. The snow had melted above the stones, making bagel-like formations.
The act of noticing prompted me to notice other things. I verified that indeed the wind was coming from the southeast by changing my body position to feel the wind. I noticed how the surface of the snow in the yard was smoothed out in ripples. I watched the chickadees changing perches in the birch trees. I realized that this is what Tom Brown the tracker was teaching, this kind of open-eyed awareness. I realized that it is possible to maintain this awareness, and that being in nature, for me, makes it easier.
I used to avoid noticing details, preferring to sense energy shifts because it seemed more natural. I have been somewhat lazy about detail-noticing. Maybe partly because detail-noticing in our culture is often linked to a kind of coldness of heart.
More and more, as I practice mindfulness, I am able to notice from the space of the heart. I am being shown how to see the world with the eyes of the heart, the eyes of wonder. The world becomes illuminated as I become able and willing to open my heart to its details. I am a work-in-progress; but gradually and definitely I am gaining in my ability to see with child-like wonder.
The meditations and the “mindfulness drawing practice” are steppingstones on the path to seeing the world with new eyes– in essence, to be “awake.”
Returning home after a two month road trip affords the opportunity to return to the practices established in this house, the ones that stand me in good stead. I watch my breath as I behold the morning becoming– the way the sunlight paints certain areas golden while at the same time creating shadows that change rapidly in intensity. I notice how the top of each spruce tree has a different shape. The snow removal equipment on the street seems to be invigorated. Winter at last! The practice of open-eyed meditation floods back into my life.
I feel my own force, bearing fruit
And gaining strength to give me to the world.
My inmost being I feel charged with power
To turn with clearer insight
Toward the weaving of life’s destiny.
Happy Celtic New Year – In ancient Ireland on the eve of Samhain (October 31st) the old year died and the new one was born. The newborn year matured until Imbolc (February 1) when the ground was ready to be impregnated with seed. The historic Hill of Tara contains a Neolithic (New Stone Age) structure built between 3000 and 2500 BC and known today as the Mound of the Hostages. It is an ancient passage tomb with its inner chamber aligned with the rising sun on the dates of Samhain and Imbolc. The ancient Irish believed that the gods and the spirits of the dead lived in a multiverse including underground in fairy mounds, across the western sea or in an invisible world that coexists with the world of humans. At Samhain and again at Bealtaine (May 1st) the partition between this world and the otherword became weak allowing the spirits of the otherworld to roam freely among the living. In Irish literature the people of the mounds are called daoine sídhe (p. dee ana she) who are variously said to be the ancestors, the spirits of nature or goddesses and gods. The aos sí (p. ahos shee, older form aes sídhe p. ays sheeth-uh) is the term used for a supernatural race in Irish mythology comparable to the fairies or elves. Often they are not named directly but rather spoken of as “The Good Neighbours”, “The Fair Folk”, or simply “The Folk”. The word sídhe (p. she) is probably best understood as meaning fairy and is familiar to you all as in the Banshee (Bean sídhe). She is the harbinger of death in Irish mythology and if you hear her wail someone near is about to die. Confusingly the word sídhe is also the word used to describe the dwelling place of fairies thus these days they are often referred to as sídhe mounds or fairy mounds. The hill of Knockma (Cnoc Meadha) west of Tuam, County Galway is said in legend to be the residence of Finnbheara, the king of the Connacht fairies. The hill rises out of a large flat plain and has two large prehistoric cairns (stone mounds) on top of it. One is said to be the burial place Finnbheara and the other of Queen Medb. When Finnbheara rises tonight and if you happen to be in the vicinity you will probably hear this tune played in his honour called appropriately “King of the Fairies”. In the 1970s the tune was plugged into a nearby electric power station and it came out like this. http://www.youtube.com/
Facebook Page– Irish Medieval History
As we heal, the Earth Mother feels our joy. We are like cells in and on her body. The power of love, the power of healing, the power of compassion, the power of unity, and the power of knowing are our abilities. These are the gifts our Earth Mother seeks to share with us at this time. —Jamie Sams
Mary Oliver