My Experience with Earth Harmony Ritual

I began writing this as a comment back to Dana over at Southern Herbalist. OH MY GOODNESS GOSH! I didn’t realize I missed the link before now (wednesday nov. 30)

I wrote: ha!
I knew before I hit the post that you’d tell me to clear it all and then sit with each one, to talk to it…and wait till I could hear it πŸ˜›
we so fuuuuuuuuuuunny!!

And then, I typed what follows, and then I decided I should just blog about it. So, here it is, my traveling back to myself…

I cleared the table today, I was even moved to salt scrub the surface of the table AND the wood tray that held many of the items! Then I salted me! πŸ˜€
Then I said, in my meaningful combination of snark and really meaning it: Ok, You gave to me these things to help myself and then to help others. I am feeling stressed or ungrounded and I do not trust myself to choose what to do next. Please increase the energetic feeling of each so that I do not make a mistake that might harm myself or, in turn, others. (I had moved everything to the chair, washed the tray and put it outside to air dry. Scrubbed the abalone shells, with salt–which I never EVER do. Grabbed each item and got IMMEDIATE FEEDBACK! I didn’t feel broken. AND, I knew what to do with the things I needed to put out as having been finished or used up. I ground some, snapped some and put them all into the center of the cat-mint and wormwood bed and thanked them for their use, like I do with burned smudge. Daughter brought me home a giant chunk of stone with crystal and some forms of chalcedony inside–much like a geode, but without much hollow space. It’s on the table. Mason jar with dried bunches of lavender. I got these fresh over the summer wondering what possessed me to do so. I added a sprig from the junipers outside the front door and three sprigs of fresh rosemary. The candle came back. The selenite stayed too. The spent matches holder is full of cloves. The wands and other wood bits that very strongly said KEEP ME are now inside a basket with sweet-grass, sage, cedar and other such items. A tiny basket now holds all of my stones that I picked up and put all in one spot, to smudge, they seem happy there so I will see. Both baskets and feathers are on the cleaned tray!

House feels so much better kiddos shouted what are you doing to the house and they came down to SIT AT THAT TABLE!!!

Thanks for posting what you did Dana, I didn’t feel able or trusting me enough to take care of it without the impetus of your blog.

Waking to Beautiful Rain

A Close Day

I am having a very pleasing morning. One of the reasons for this pleasure is that so far, things are going the way I wish them to go, I feel in control. (Ha, I haven’t missed the defect in my character, but since it is having a positive effect upon my day…I shall choose to address it later πŸ˜› )

I was busy being thankful for having interesting photographs to view with my morning tea. I was noticing that I had not had an inkling of interest in viewing any news, AND that my morning isn’t poo like it has been, with said viewing! I was praying that this felt like the most excellent reprieve.

And then…

…it began to rain, pour down rain!

Glorious, musical, cleansing, perfection of form, falling to the ground, clinging to surfaces, reflecting life!!!

sigh………. πŸ™‚

Creating Creation

This morning, I was still or yet again, in what I have decided to term a funk. I am also going to point out that a funk for me can be a depression, a dealing with life on life’s terms that feels heavy without freedom and expression of my simultaneous joys. It can also be a place where my head is very full of things, that do not seem to congeal into one coherent story. A brain full of fragments. I think everyone has fragments, but a funk comes for me when the fragments have weight and meaning, appear to conflict, and come to no conclusions as to actions to be taken. How long can one sit, not reacting, before one gets stuck?

So, Kathy’s blogs “When intentions ‘fail’ perhaps something else ‘succeeds’ and “Rant” , yet again, used some of the words for the concepts and feelings of the fragments in my head.

I typed a LOT in the comments of the two blogs. I fretted over Kathy possibly feeling that I had run over her blog. I fretted over why I cannot(have not been able) to just write my own blog in response. I told myself that Kathy can speak up, delete comments and so on a so forth. I got distracted in this thinking by the feeling of creation.

I have been smelling pumpkin pie cooking for two days. I avoided making pie, crust is messy. I thought of the warmth of the kitchen and the scent of ‘home’ that permeates the house when I bake. I followed the scent of baking bread. I am NOT making bread!(I said that loudly to myself.) I thought of cinnamon, cloves, vanilla, and cedar simmering on the stove. OOOOO I can do that!

Then I thought that if I just wiped the counters. Put some things away. Created a clean slate. I made a simple list, without expectation of getting any of it done today, just the step of noticing the items was enough. My brain began to gather around my writing pink pen and said oh dear don’t write that down, it’s too simple just take action! So, I did.

I have cleaned things, which weren’t so messy as my eyes were seeing. I am working on the cooking. I am focusing on how the ingredients feel in my fingers, thanking them for providing grounding input for my overdone system. I am very glad my fingers like to feel and to create images and feelings. This overrides the fragments. This provides structure and value for me. I am starting to feel anxious again as I type, so I’m going to go off now and continue creating. Thank you, friend Kathy!

Doing the “Right” Thing, NCAA defers to authorities in Penn State sex scandal.

I’ve been thinking and thinking and knowing and deciding. I’m watching the masses do their thing, without showing wisdom nor learning.

I found an article that on the surface actually makes good sense and doesn’t get things blown out of proportion by blowing up the house because the car in the garage has a bad spark plug. It has a copy write, so here is the title and a link: NCAA defers to authorities in Penn State sex scandal. The article also assumes, just as the Penn State staffers following the chain of command and the policies of the institution, that the person at the end does have the authority to correct a situation, will grasp the severity of a situation, is motivated to do something about it, and that the person cares enough at the time act. Is anyone going to call them pulling the wool over people’s eyes? Is anyone going to turn over cars and rip down lamp posts in protest for them doing nothing? I think not. Our society thrives upon pedestals. We put people on them. We rip them off of them. For the most part, we endow those deemed higher with superhuman ideals without knowing a truth. We can react violently when such delusions are challenged.

Where is the outrage when the child down the street is molested or killed, towards the neighbor who called police three times didn’t do enough? Where is the outrage when Children and Youth officials provide vast obstacles to their having to take action, such as knowing the name of the abuser? There isn’t any. I hope people choose to notice the parallels and the powerlessness that the victim, and the helpers must face. I hope that people think.

I also wonder, Why is Second Mile still operating?

The Sky

The Sky
it was pomegranate.

A dark
night
sky

Not fading and deepening blues–
But
Pomegranate.

Focused upon focusing.
Something grand to attend.
The Sky
it was pomegranate.

Such a slight thing
without evident meaning
or intent

Can’t there be anything else?

No.
It was pomegranate.

–by elisabeth connelley

Oh wait, this, I thought, was a blog, but now I think it was a poem. I tried asking it, but so far, it has not answered and I’d rather stay with the pomegranate.