Last night, I played in the waters of Ojo Caliente Hot Springs. I was there with friend and collaborative musician Heidi Svoboda, and had the unquenchable desire to breach. I watched a whale once in Maui for nearly an hour breech time and time again. The guide driving our small boat said that they do it for the fun of it. This must have been what hit me: if the living libraries of the Earth can do this just for fun, it’s time for ME to have some fun! So, I launched out of the small pool we were sitting in, as I as I could go, and belly flopped. It was so exhilerating, I couldn’t resist doing it again after apologizing to the other couple in the pool, both of whom had smiles on their faces. Bless their hearts: “if you need to breech, go for it!” they said. so I breached, and did it again. When the pool was empty, I thrust out of the water and twisted, re-entering on my back. I was a whale. I was my spirit animal of the East: the animal of my primary direction. I understood his joy, his need to feel the air, just as my need to feel the water. We laughed, and breached again. The water spirits were laughing too as the water danced in our wake. There was a purity of experience unlike many I have experienced. We left with so much gratitude for water, and the mischievousness it infected us with. We were alive and we breeched!
This week is an infinity on the un-constictor scale! Lots of rain today here for the equinox and things are exploding into life.
But, alas, I am here for a not so shameless plug this time. I will be releasing the 6th CD in the 2012 Stories Series with co-creator Heidi Svoboda, in Taos this thursday on the New Moon.
For details see:
Hope some of you can make it out as our first rehearsal for this was right in my living room at Harmony Farm! This is the CD we will be releasing. It will also be available on iTunes and at CDBaby.
For months there has been nothing but dormancy, decay and death at Harmony Farm. But the approaching equinox has changed all that. After preparing a site for a ceremony tonight (my first with others), I traveled the property collecting bits of soil and horse poop to seed new soil for my garden. I pushed a wheelbarrow through about half the woods gathering a puck here, and a pile there, so that my garden can have bits from all over: the best the property has for the garden. I’ve seen green sprouting on the edge of the trees below the house, but for the first time found myself walking amongst it.
It became evident that life had begun again, in ernest.
I happened onto another place that I am getting to know intimately, and happened upon these little beauties.
They are either lilies of some kind, or blue-eyed grass. If anyone out there knows, i’m happy to have the label, but for now, I’m just going to call them the first fairies. I’m apparently not the first to enjoy them, as it appears that someone has taken a few bites already! This one special spot is the only place that I saw them, so whatever energies are at work there, it is potent and already engaged!
Then, up on the grassy hill, I almost stepped on this little guy.
We looked at each other for a while and I thanked him for showing me the infinity sign with his body, and reminding me that i am only a small part of something much bigger, and that death and life are the same ends of a single circle!
For now, i’m enjoying the end that’s bringing in this pale green haze, that will soon explode into heart-opening green!
I have observed that life is so multi-dimensional and infinitely variable, that it resists counting. Humans make great efforts to categorize and quantify it, but each benchmark inevitably opens new mysteries. Answers lead to questions far more often than questions lead to answers. But on this occasion, i was actually able to count life and the answer was 99 (+- 5).
I love to think of how this tree gave of itself in those 99 years. Its young and tender leaves probably served as food for deer and other animals and as it matured, gave nuts of some kind for the squirrels. Each season it fed life back into the soil through it’s leaves after they were done providing shade to animals and humans from the summer heat. It provided oxygen for the living and drank in our carbon dioxide waste. If provided safety for birds to nest: a home for their young away from predators. It may have even provided a home for woodpeckers later in its life: a condorminium of sorts. And after this long life of complex simplicity, I like to think that it gave itself to keep a family warm in the winter. These are the practical, more measurable 3rd dimensional gifts it gave to the circle of life, but it also gave things to the 4th dimension: an elegant beauty connecting Mother Earth to Father Sky, and a calendar of growth for wanderers like me to ponder.
This calendar shows lots of wet years, with widely spaced rings, but also some dry years as a youngling, with small rings. The momentary details of this trees life can only be guessed at, but what it represents in all of its facets is worthy of the highest gratitude. I thought of Shell Silversteen’s The Giving Tree here, and so I sat and gave thanks for the remnants of this being whose daily life I can only guess. I do know its giving was monumental and so aspire to give a similar quantity and quality of what this tree gave in its life effortlessly and without complaint.