Such a beautiful song made even more relevant by powerful Saturn returns (around age 30 and again around 60) . A time of change. A time of dreams.
Such a beautiful song made even more relevant by powerful Saturn returns (around age 30 and again around 60) . A time of change. A time of dreams.
is March For Our Lives!
Join the movement for change in Washington or your local community (or internationally). I will be joining in from Brussels.
Follow the link to find out what your community has planned.
I’ve always hated my birthday. December 21 falls too close to Christmas for it ever to have been celebrated like a normal birthday. As a child I can remember (and remember vividly) the one and only birthday party where I had neighbor kids over. The rest of the time, birthdays were small family events squeezed in among the hubbub of Christmas. Not fun and not special. That coupled with the yearly reminder from my mother that I was born on the darkest day of the year did much to cement my feelings of apathy about my solar return. For a few years, I moved the event to January hoping for a better outcome. But there was no escaping it.
2017 turned out to be quite an eye-opening experience living abroad, and in an attempt to take advantage of some once in a life-time opportunities, I thought maybe this year marking my birthday with the rising sun of solstice at Stonehenge would make a memorable birthday. It was!
The tour bus left London in complete darkness at 4:20 AM and we made our way to the plains of Salisbury where we picked up some light rain. We were given the option of walking 50 minutes to the site or waiting for a shuttle bus. Luckily, the English Heritage organization that controls access to Stonehenge has done this for years and there were plenty of shuttle buses, so we boarded the bus and rode. We were dropped off, in the misty blackness at the edge of a parking lot with hundreds of others. All along the way, my husband and I were looking for the famous stones to orient ourselves but even standing with the crowd, we had no idea in which direction we’d eventually be led.
Finally, someone from English Heritage ventured by with a flashlight to tell us that they were waiting for some light before they’d open the field for us to go up to the site. When someone asked her where, she gestured to the left behind a wire fence where again we saw nothing. The crowd was animated. In the distance and to the left, drums beat, and a lone bagpipe played. More shuttle buses came and left, and we waited.
Not long after, the stones were lit on the hill above us and the pasture fence dropped. Stonehenge emerged from the black night on the first morning of winter. Druid drums beat a rhythm as the crowd and I were led through the marshy pasture and up to the historic site. I felt very emotional going up the hill and had to focus on my breathing to circulate the energy. Whether this was a reaction to ley lines, the crowd’s festive spirit, or my own internal work I don’t know, but it was powerful and deep (and Scorpionic?). There was a sense of rightness in this crowd moving up to take back this site.
By the time I reached the stones, several hundred people were already massed in and around the site. Stonehenge is a relatively small area. The center was held by Druids and pagans who had begun their ceremonies. Eager to join in, my husband and I moved in as close as we could. Our initial position was just outside the center ring. Gradually things began to lighten. We honored the four directions and offered prayers of peace being led by, I believe, a Druid priest. We chanted, sang songs, and summoned the ancestors. It was a festive, lively, and inclusive ceremony. The official sunrise came without notice as the clouds never permitted the sun to shine. Once the ritual part of the gathering had concluded, a group of pagan singers dressed in red streamed into the center of the stones and led the crowd in more songs. After a while, it felt like time to leave and my husband and I walked around the circle. I had a chance to touch some of the stones and walk the grounds of the site.
One of the most important reasons to visit Stonehenge at one of the solstices is that people are allowed in among the stones and on the grounds. During the rest of the year, tourists are allowed only to walk a paved path behind a barrier around the site. Those restrictions have been in place for some years now to protect the site. Only on limited rare occasions can visitors access and touch the stones (although technically you’re not supposed to, but everyone does).
Stonehenge is positioned on the top of a gentle hill with a panoramic view of surrounding fields. It’s isolated and unexpected, retaining its mystery. I settled on a fallen stone with some others. Revelers in the distance kept up the party atmosphere as I dropped into a healing mediation with the aid of the beat of a steady drum. It was easy to ground and go deep. I emerged sometime later, cold and stiff. It was time to leave.
The visit had been characterized by three different phases. First, there had been the emotional climb to the site. The stones themselves and the experience of greeting the solstice was joyous and a shared one. The final phase was solitary, deep, and healing. No bolts of lightening but more a gladness that I’d been there. That this birthday was memorable and special.
I was surprised that I had not felt more in the way of energy at the site, but then I had done some shielding ahead of our arrival. An unexpected thing happened the next day in London though. While we were waiting to get the underground, I suddenly started running energy that intensified in my palms. This lasted for some time and I think was connected to the previous day’s work. So, I’m keeping an open mind and we’ll see where this goes. Maybe a blog in the future.
From now until Jan. 2, INTO THE LAND OF SNOWS (Kindle edition) is discounted to 99 cents on Amazon.
Sixteen year old Blake travels to Base Camp on Mt. Everest to spend time with his physician father. When a deadly avalanche occurs, Dad is forced to rethink things and sends Blake away. Now accompanied by a Sherpa guide, and in possession of a mysterious camera, Blake undertakes a journey that will challenge everything he believes. In the magical Himalayas, he will be forever changed by what he experiences.
Get it here: goo.gl/U12pqh
During the Middle Ages, a lay group of women dedicated to a life of prayer, hard work, and community service thrived in the Low Countries. Known as the Beguines, Karen Maitland imagines what it might have been like for a group of these women to have struck out on their own to settle in an unwelcoming English town. The atmosphere is tense as the women are seen as outsiders, not part of Mother Church and not part of the resident pagan tradition either. The women bring their ideas of Christian charity to the townsfolk who regard them with suspicion and sometimes open hostility. As the village suffers through a series of disasters, the power of the Church is threatened, dark forces from earlier times reawaken, and the beguines must decide to make a stand or return to the safety of their continental shores.
Karen Maitland novel is well-researched and executed. The story is told from the various viewpoints of the characters in the town of Ulewic. In this way, we learn each of the beguine’s has her own history and her own reasons for joining the group. We understand the struggles of the local priest as he fits into a system that leaves him little room for personal choice. A nobleman’s daughter helps us feel the restrictions of living as a young woman in Medieval society. An array of townsfolk completes the cast. The Owl Killers are a group of masked men who harken back to a day before law and order. They are definitely flesh and blood and do their share of evil, but Maitland has, at times, blurred the line. Although most of the story feels firmly planted in third dimensional reality, there are a few places where things take on an otherworldly creepiness. Man’s ability for cruelty can be disturbing and this book certainly has those moments. The ending may leave you wanting more or maybe something else entirely.
(If you’re not an animal person, bail out here.)
In the 70s PBS had that show All Creatures Great & Small and I loved it. English countryside, small village life, vets in tweed. I went on to read many of the books placing those beloved actors neatly into their roles all through the 90s. I had lots of connections to animals then too, the kids were small and I did a jaunt as a humane educator. We’re a little further down the timeline and the kids are grown. I still have a small menagerie. A dopey Golden retriever named Luke (named because he was intended to be a healer), and two intense calico sisters, Maggie and Millie.
Moving to Belgium I suffered under a lot of delusions about what life here was going to be like. We are now at the six-month point. Many of the rough patches have been smoothed over, expectations lowered to ground level. On Saturday, it was time to have the two cats looked at and get their shots taken care of.
Belgium has a very different standard of veterinary care than what is typical in the US. Vets come to the house to provide basic care. There is the option of taking your pet to the vet at his/her practice at his/her home office during surgery hours (open once or twice a week). Think 1950s. Think All Creatures Great & Small.
Believing the hardest part of this visit would be locating and catching Maggie and Millie, my husband and I restrained the two patients in an inescapable, internationally-certified flight container a full half hour before our Belgian Mr. Herriot’s arrival. And waited. Maggie was very good in the cage, but her nervous sister was stressed. Two cat fights and twenty minutes late, the vet arrived. Pleasantries exchanged, we got down to business. I reached in for Millie and was soon dripping blood as the cat flew up my chest, down my back, and behind the sofa. Millie is four and a high-strung cat, but I’ve taken her to the vet at least twice a year and never had that happen. Both cats received a feline leukemia shot and (I found out later) a rabies shot. Neither got the physical exam they should have. Granted, conditions were not good, but the vet did nothing to slow the process down or get to know the cats. Some pet owners may be aware that in the US we are moving away from yearly rabies shots because vets have seen concerning instances of cancer at injection sites hence the three-year rabies shot which my cats have. Belgium is behind the times and still requires annual rabies. The vet did not ask me if I wanted this, the cats’ three-year inoculation was still active, he just did it. So, I’m not happy with the experience with the cats for multiple reasons.
Now, with regard to the dog. Luke has an on-going medical mystery since we’ve arrived in Belgium. It started one day when I watched him get down from a chair. It looked very much like a collapse incident I had seen with a previous Golden Retriever we had. In that instance, the dog had a vessel cancer and bled from the heart. Luke hit the ground, couldn’t get his legs under him, and fell to the floor. Because of the history with the other dog, I went and made him stay down. After a few minutes, he got up and was fine.
I talked myself out of it being anything more than maybe his legs were asleep and he hit the floor funny. Until. That weekend, a pet sitter observed an incident where Luke couldn’t get off the floor coupled with shaking, and general panic. The pet sitter was so concerned she contacted us in Amsterdam and we came home. In the US, I would have had the option of going to a 24- hour emergency veterinary facility (multiple ones in the Colorado Springs). Here- not so much. There is a mobile veterinary service that can come to your house and do x-rays, trauma surgery, etc. but my situation was going to require multiple specialties so it didn’t seem like a good option. An internet search revealed, a veterinary teaching hospital in Ghent (yay! – the only one on the country, maybe). Complying with their requirements, he had a full workup to the extent of their abilities and they found…nothing. Which could be good or which could require additional heart monitoring or it could always be a rare form of epilepsy or neurological problem. We were sent home with no answers except that making a video the next time it happens would be great. Anyway, we crossed our fingers hoping it was nothing serious and we’d never see Ghent University again. A couple of months passed and another pet sitter reported another incident. Now, I’m wondering if what we might be seeing isn’t a rear leg problem. Luke had a knee surgery about 18 months ago which healed fine. He has no lameness issue, but there are these incidents of him getting up or getting down on hard surfaces. Is it something quirky connected to the surgery?
I need an orthopedic surgeon to take a look. Back to our Belgian Mr. Herriot. I ask him to recommend a specialist. He doesn’t know any, but he knows a guy who can do an x-ray. WTF??? (Shouldn’t any vet be able to do an x-ray? Not so fast, this is Belgium. I must lower my standards.) I press on thinking an internet search might be a better option than this vet. Since coming to Belgium getting Luke on a good grade dog food he will eat has been a challenge and he’s gained some weight. Luke is pudgy. I ask the vet for options. He says decrease the dog food 20% from what the package says. We have already done this to which he responds, “ah, then there is no solution.” I am underwhelmed by his problem- solving skills. Given Luke is seven and from a breed known for hypothyroidism, I expected him to offer a blood test if dietary changes weren’t working. Silly, silly me.
Vet visit concluded. 100 Euro cash given (almost all interactions in Belgium are cash, including restaurants, hair appointments, etc.), no receipt, and the vet leaves. No jaunty smile, no tweedy jackets, no good- humored advice. I miss you Mr. Herriot, in more ways than one.
A later internet search reveals that there really aren’t any veterinary specialists in the country. It is illegal for vets to use any distinguishing titles or designations that might presumably mislead the public. I take this to mean that the profession has not reached a level where governing bodies have been established to self-police themselves. In the US, we have the American Veterinary Medical Association but here there is nothing comparable that I can find. At the EU level, there is a board of surgeons and there are three vets in Belgium who are listed as doing orthopedic work.
Be grateful for the veterinary care you can easily access if you are in the US (or the UK- it looks similar). Don’t take it for granted. I did. I thought all of Europe would have comparable service. It does not. Hug your pet today knowing you can get an array of pet specialists to help keep your special family member healthy! Heck, hug your vet too!
Creativity and Your Yearning to Express Yourself by Teri Degler
“Love, begin the song, and let me hear how well you sing.” Mechthild of Magdeburg
In The Divine Feminine Fire, Teri Degler explores the similarities and differences of the divine feminine expressed in Shakti (Hinduism), Sophia (Christianity), and Shekinah (Kabbalah). She examines ancient and suppressed texts leading to some fascinating insights. The reason to explore these traditions is made plain by the need for understanding in our own time of the awakening going on in us and around us. Degler asserts that it is the divine feminine that is waking up, being ignited and transforming consciousness. The divine feminine is a creative force (not limited to the female gender, in any way) experienced in the human body as a birthright. This experience is one that exists along a continuum.
To get a feel for the extreme of the continuum, Degler examines the lives of a 12th Century Christian Saint (Mechthild of Magdeburg) and a 12th Century Hindu Saint (Mahadevi Akka). She draws some appropriate parallels and calls our attention to the whole of the transformation being rooted in the body. The stories of five modern women are also given to show the other end of the continuum. There was a compelling discussion about Gopi Krishna and how we have no reason to think we have a good handle on understanding what the far extreme of this transformation would look like. Things like where do Christ or Buddha fall on the continuum come to mind.
Throughout the book, there are examples of what transformative experiences happen when the divine feminine is awakened. Again, these are on the continuum. The principle signs of transformation include mystical experience, paranormal abilities, and divine inspiration (inspired creativity).
The final chapter of the book is a call to live a balanced life. Whether we know it or like it, all of us are in the body going through transformation somewhere along the continuum. Creativity is the way the divine feminine is expressed and how consciousness is transformed. Many of us feel this call of transformation through our creative work and the whole of life can be viewed as creative expression.
This is the Semper Augustus, a remarkable tulip of the 17th Century which fueled the world’s first love for the exotic and magical bulb. My recent visit to the Keukenhof gardens indicates flower lovers still lust after its charm. So do I.
Several years ago, I got caught up in the story of the tulip. Way back in 1554, an ambassador to Turkey sent some bulbs and seeds back home. These found their way into Vienna and then into the Low Counties. It took the careful work of Carolus Clusius (a botanist at the University of Leiden) to cultivate and catalog those bulbs that could tolerate the local conditions and soon tulips were popular. Newly independent Holland had a unique flower and it soon became a luxury item. More and more fantastic species were developed. The most sought after tulips actually suffered from a virus that broke the colors into streaks. Eventually, a whole speculative trade came into existence in which people who bought the bulbs never saw them and never possessed them. Tulip fever reached its height in the winter of 1636 when a single bulb might be traded as many as ten times in a day. Then abruptly in February, there came a day when traders just stayed home. The bubble had burst. Fortunes had been made and lost.
This is the background I used to create a YA ghost story. The manuscript has come within a hair’s width of publication four times with different publishers. My own gamble and bust market. Eventually, I do think this manuscript will come into the world, but until then enjoy some photos of the tulips that fueled, Tender Tulips, Dark Diamonds: A Ghost Story. The flowers of the Keukenhof are breathtaking and short-lived.
This is a special book about healing and what it means to heal. At its core are two sisters who’ve had a falling out. The separation is painful for both of them. With the backdrop of a Kentucky flower farm, Rose is raising a severely disabled child alone. Ten-year-old Antoinette appears to have a form of autism that requires constant care but along with this disability comes a gift. Antoinette can connect to the vibrations of life and heal. A dead bird is raised. Flowers bloom before their time. Neighbors heal. When Rose becomes ill herself, she reaches out to her sister to come and help with Antoinette and the farm. But Lily has her own secrets and going back means she’ll have to confront them. Why does one little girl frighten her so much?
I enjoyed the backdrop of the book reading it in a time when Belgium was dark, rainy, and in its pre-spring gray. The promise of a new cycle of life and healing is powerful. Can old relationships be healed? What does healing look like? What sacrifices will love allow? The descriptions of Antoinette’s abilities were intriguing as were the insights into the world of autism. Although I didn’t like the ending because the author took the easy way out, I’m sure many will find comfort in it.