Erica Wheeler

Being Here: Soulful Ways to Connect to Place

About this blog: Stories about ways I have felt connected to places, and suggestions for deepening your own connection.

updated 5 days ago

September 2010/Dragonfly Magic

Thursday, September 02, 2010

This month, I finally finished a creative project I’ve been working on for a year. (It’s a free e-book called Seven Soulful Ways to Connect to Place that will be available soon to download.) There were times where I really pushed myself and made huge breakthroughs. These moments felt like blessings, like the way was finally clear.

After the first breakthrough I looked up from my desk and saw something I’d never seen before: about 50 iridescent-blue dragonflies were swarming outside my study window. I stepped outside to get a better look. I had no idea why they were gathered there, but it felt significant. It felt like a sign. To me, their figure-eight flight and the whirlwind they created symbolized magic, movement and change. And yes, it was a Tinkerbell moment: “I believe! I believe!” A powerful event.

The next week, I was writing again and finally having another breakthrough. I stepped outside for some fresh air, and there they were again! This time, feeling brave and curious, I stepped into the middle of the speeding swarm to see what would happen. The dragonflies just darted around me. They stayed for an hour and were gone.

Coincidence or magic? What matters is that to me, it was significant. I felt like my creative process was transforming, and the whirling of the dragonflies seemed to symbolize that.  I will never forget it.

Listening to the Land
I have no idea why that swarm of dragonflies was there only on those days, and only in front of the room where I was writing. There were no bugs for them to eat. It wasn’t dusk. I was curious to learn more about dragonflies and the meanings that others have attributed to them.

Upon investigation, I learned that dragonflies are creatures of both water and air. They spend most of their lives in their nymph stage, living in water anywhere from two months to five years, depending on the species. And then they transform, taking to the air as amazing iridescent flying machines. They can move each of their four wings independently and thereby fly with great precision in six directions: up, down, forward, backward and sideways left and right. They can also hover. Not surprisingly, they are expert hunters—they’re sometimes called mosquito hawks. As for the swarming, there are some scientific theories: they swarm to feed; they swarm when they’re getting ready to migrate. I’ve heard that swarms have been reported this year, and it’s speculated their abundance is due to weather patterns.
Have you seen any dragonfly swarms this year too? Just curious.

Dragonflies are one of the oldest species (fossils of them have been dated as 300 million years old) and have long figured as symbols across the globe. Their images can be found in ancient rock petroglyphs and modern tattoos. Because dragonflies are expert hunters and can move with great agility, Plains Indian tribes such as the Cheyenne painted them on their ponies to give them those same powers during a battle or hunt. For the Navaho and other Southwest tribes, dragonflies symbolize pure water and are found in their pottery, jewelry and stories. They also figure prominently in Japanese artwork and are often featured in haikus.


Your Story:  Have you ever had an encounter with an animal or other creature that felt like a sign? Did it mean something special to you at that moment in your life? Sometimes you just know; other times it’s helpful to investigate the meanings others have attributed to such encounters, to see what resonates with you.

Try This:

Explore the possible meaning of your encounter:
There’s a store in Santa Fe, New Mexico, called Keshi that primarily sells Zuni fetishes—small carvings, usually of animals, that help people get in touch with the powers those animals possess. Keshi was established in 1981 as a co-op for Zuni arts and crafts, and it’s one of my favorite places to browse when I visit this beautiful town. It’s fascinating to wander around the store, see what creatures you are drawn to, and learn about what powers they possess. And fortunately, Keshi has a great website with their offerings, plus a page about animal medicine. This is a good place to start if you’re curious to see what meanings have been attributed to different animals. link

Other Resources:
Animal Speak, by Ted Andrews, is a great resource to have in your library. While you may not agree with all he has to say, it’s interesting to read about something you saw and see if the meaning and message of your encounter, as interpreted by others, resonates with you.

Medicine Cards, by David Carson and Jamie Sams, can be used like a tarot deck, and the accompanying book can be used to gain insight into what having different animals turn up in your life might mean. The authors offer some great questions to ponder.

Journaling:
Write about your encounter. What were you thinking about when it happened? Was it at a significant time or turning point in your life? What do you think it symbolized? Did you take it as a sign?

I’d love to hear from you! Post a comment below.

updated 5 days ago

August 2010/ Letting in Joy

Friday, July 30, 2010

I’ve started this article several times. I wanted to write my response around what has happened in the Gulf and was having a hard time finding my voice or making any sense of what I was thinking or feeling. As I talked to others I found I was not alone. It’s been hard to comprehend because it is so incomprehensible. I hope reading it helps you in some way. Maybe it will inspire your own response. Your voice is needed.

                                  “There is only one question, how to love this world”
                                         from the poem“Spring,” by Mary Oliver

Lessons from Loss
This summer I’ve attended three life celebration/memorials. They were exquisite not just because of the wonderful memories people shared, but also because of the fact that the individuals who were memorialized lost their lives when they were in the middle of the lives they had always wanted. They were doing work they loved, living where they loved and with people they loved. I can only imagine the loss felt by their families and close friends, but I know that I left each memorial hopeful and inspired by someone whose life had been well lived.

One thing that struck me was that at some point during each memorial someone said something along the lines of, “Here I am doing the dishes and they are gone.” That seemed to close to how I'd been feeling every day since the Gulf oil disaster. How could I enjoy a beautiful summer day knowing there was so much suffering going on in the Gulf?

I wanted to voice my feelings, but felt like I needed to say something brilliant, wise and profound. After all, I have taken on as my life’s work helping to restore the connection between people and place. And here I was confronted with a richly defined place that I could not face. Pictures and reports I couldn’t watch. A truth I wanted to ignore. A connection I did not want to feel.

I looked around to see what others were saying. I found voices that wanted to point fingers, voices that said it’s not that bad, and voices that said "cast the Gulf in a net of light." While I agree that casting the Gulf in a net of light is better than casting it in one of fear and despair, I wasn't hearing what I wanted to hear. I wanted to hear people address the fact that this is really about how we steward the earth. And how our failure to be good stewards is quite simply, a defilement of the sacred.

There are many lessons to learn from this tragedy. Even with the well capped, we don't know the impacts yet of all that gunk in the ocean or all the life forms that will suffer because of it. At worse, I've wondered if the Gulf is like the martyr that has been sacrificed to teach us about how the way we live effects everything else.

I know we all use oil, but I cringe when I hear the phrase” addicted to oil." The way we use oil is planned. We've had alternatives all along. We're not victims. We're responsible for our choices. But perhaps the mantra that has helped so many addicts is most fitting here: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom know the difference.”

I have a friend who works in land conservation who has been in despair about global warming for as long as I’ve known her. Whenever we talk, I listen to her express her feelings, and after a certain point I always feel compelled to say, “Yes, all that is true, and in the meantime, what shall we do?” Now it was my turn to call her and ask, “What shall we do?”

"Feel your feelings.” She replied.

The Kubler-Ross Stages of Grief
I wrote out everything I had been feeling since the spill began. It seemed messy and all over the place until it dawned on me that what I was experiencing followed a pattern: the Kubler-Ross model of the stages of grief. Of course! The grief we feel regarding the loss of human life also applies to loss of other life, to non-human beings, to the loss of a place. Here’s the model if you’re not familiar with it.

1. Shock and denial: Avoidance, confusion, fear, numbness, blame
   
2. Anger and frustration: Anxiety, irritation, embarrassment, shame
   
3. Depression and detachment: Overwhelm, lack of energy
   
4. Dialogue and bargaining: Reaching out to others, desire to tell one’s story, struggle to find meaning for what has happened
   
5. Acceptance: Exploring new options, a new plan in place
   
6. Return to a meaningful life
   

Creating Change
We need to remember there are other voices to add to this conversation. Joanna Macy is one. She has been working in the center of storms like these for a long time. At 81 she is articulate, passionate and a true wisdom keeper. Visit her homepage and watch the short video from her keynote at last years Bioneers conference if you want to be inspired. www.joannamacy.net

In the work she calls “the Great Turning,” she identifies three ways of creating change and taking action, all of which can be happening simultaneously.

1. Holding actions to slow the damage to the Earth and its beings.
   
2. Analysis of structural causes and creation of alternative institutions.
   
3. A fundamental shift in worldviews and values, both cognitively and spiritually.
   

My Story
While looking for other voices to help me make sense of all this what struck me is the need to find my own. Talking with friends helped me find my way through. Being able to eventually articulate my feelings has always helped me get through things in my life. Giving my experiences form, whether it's an essay or a song, has always been a healing thing to do.

So, like the mourners at the memorials, I know there is life to attend to here and now. I've thought about the Buddhists monks who live in war torn countries who practice being loving and kind, even in the midst of great unkindness. This industrial accident which has resulted in unkindness to so many life forms has made it hard for me to let in joy. But I know now that to not let in joy is also a defilement of the sacred----right outside my door.

Your Story
Find your gift to bring: Read or listen to Joanna Macy, or just know that there are different ways to help, and on different levels. From cleaning birds to limiting your consumption of petroleum products. From changing policy to creating a song or poem that changes the way people view the world . . . All contributions are valuable. You just need to figure out what gift you can bring to the problem. And don’t think you have to solve the entire problem all by yourself.

Write it out: Where are you on the grief cycle? Write out your feelings. Talk with others. You don’t have to go through this alone.

Let in Joy: It won’t do anyone any good if you don’t! Here’s a quote to inspire you:

"When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be, I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free."
from Sex, Economy, Freedom and Community: Eight Essays by Wendell Berry

Post your comment below.

updated 1 month ago

May 2010/ Bird Migration

Monday, May 03, 2010

Feature Article: What is more global than bird migration?
This month I wanted to write a simple, inspiring article about getting out there and bird-watching, but I kept bumping into tragic news about bird populations and their habitats. And that's when it happened: I had an environmental meltdown day. For my friends who work in the conservation field, it happens all the time. It comes simply from knowing too much.

And this was before the oil spill now heading towards the Gulf Coast bird refuges, which looks sure to become one of the worst environmental disasters in history.

It's hard to ignore the truth about environmental degradation everywhere we go. And sometimes there's a disaster that slaps you right in the face. Yet with each new day the question remains: How can we best work to turn the tide towards sustaining life and all its diversity rather than degrading it?

According to the World Watch Institute: As the human population expands (from 1.6 billion to more than 6 billion in the past century alone), the Earth itself is becoming increasingly humanized—meaning that landscapes are being deforested, drained, paved, and chemically altered to make way for Homo sapiens. Generally, the more human-dominated a landscape is, the more biologically poor and unstable it becomes overall.

We live in a time of "both, and." We need habitat for both humanity and all the rest of life. We need to face the truth about the state of our environment and at the same time fiercely love what we have left to love. Disasters are the wake up call that inspires some to act, but on an everyday level, love inspires more. So let yourself move through the sadness. Then get back up and love what you have to love, and treasure what you have to treasure!

My Story
All around me, the tender leaves of spring are unfurling in uncountable varieties of green. Flitting amongst those new leaves are warblers that have returned to nest. Each year they fly in waves 1,000 miles or more from South and Central America. These small, colorful birds are spent of energy. They need to feed and restore themselves.

What's a better symbol of our global environment than a half-ounce bird that has just flown 1,000 miles and is depending on their familiar patch of green? Who can't imagine what it would feel like to travel that far only to find their forest homes turned into concrete? (Or wetlands saturated with oil?)

We are part of this web of life. People once lived in a world where animals and nature surrounded us. Now we live in a world where we surround them. Yet wildness still exists.

Earth Day weekend as I walked through the conserved forestlands in Texas, I appreciated every inch of that place that allowed wild nature to flourish, even when flanked by development. The singing birds and greening trees reminded me that each and every year—so far, no matter how badly we humans behave—spring returns. And the cycle of life begins anew.

That's why I am grateful for every bird I chance to see and every animal track I find. And why I am grateful for each engaged citizen and hardworking organization helping to ensure that wild nature and open spaces continue to exist. And for every watchdog who blows the whistle on dangerous industrial practices before it's too late. And every compassionate soul that now has to go out there and clean up the mess.

Be a witness. Notice. Appreciate. Take a moment to lose yourself in a place where you forget your fears, and feel the love in your heart expand. That's what being outside can do for you!

Your Story
Can you imagine yourself being a small bird, traveling so far only to find "home" is no longer there?

Think about the global story of change, even if it's sobering. I'm sure we'll be hearing about the effect of the oil spill for a long, long time. Let yourself feel the grief, but don't stay stuck there. Otherwise "they" win. Go out and refresh your faith in life by noticing spring as it unfolds. The call of each bird, the pushing through of each flower, each tender spark of life.

I'd love to hear your comments. Post one below!

Try This:
Call your local "Voice of Audubon" to see what birds are in your region today.
Most regions have a hotline. Here are two:
Massachusetts: (781) 259-8805
link

Central Atlantic region: 301-652-1088
link

To get a grasp on the somber truth about the environment and find ways to make a difference, check out World Watch Institute at
link

updated 1 month ago

April 2010/Collective Rites of Spring

Friday, April 02, 2010

It's happening, and people are noticing.

When spring arrives, all around the world even the weariest take note. I'm remembering last year when I went to see the cherry blossoms in Washington, DC.  What struck me even more than the showy pink blooms was the people who had come to see them.  

I saw people of all ages, nationalities and political persuasions, walking slowly, almost meditatively, heads tilted up, mesmerized by the blossoms. It looked like a pilgrimage. Every year over 700,000 people visit DC for the National Cherry Blossom Festival, according to the event's official website.

Listening to the Land
Walking among the blossom revelers I thought, "This is what it's like to live in a culture that takes time to collectively stop and honor nature."

Can you imagine what it would be like if every time some awesome event was occurring in the natural world, we all got the day off to witness it? "Sorry, spring peepers just started singing, we're closed today." Or "Cherry blossom peak week, we'll be out of the office."  Until then, let's celebrate where and when we can.

My Story
While "wild nature" and "cultivated nature" are very different experiences, watching people in public gardens restores my faith in our innate ability to connect with the natural world.  

A few years ago I was a keynote speaker at the American Horticultural Society Youth and Garden Symposium. While preparing for my talk, I thought about how for many, many people, gardens are THE way to connect with nature. They are the safest, easiest and most accessible way to experience the sense of wonder nature can provide, and are often not far from home.

There's something about the pageantry of a public garden that I love. People promenade with their friends and family. At some point they start to tiptoe and speak in hushed tones. They coo and aah when they see a stunning flower or butterfly. Whether they're city kids or grandmothers in wheelchairs, their eyes brighten with awe and wonder. I also like to take in the love and care that has gone into the planning and tending of the gardens.

Even if you have your own garden, getting out to catch spring in a collective setting has a whole other appeal.

Try This:
Visit a Public Garden Here's a great resource for finding a botanical garden in your area:
link

Attend an Earth Day Event I couldn't find a site listing everything going on, but I'm sure if you enter your town and "Earth Day 2010," you'll find an event nearby. This site has some good background about Earth Day:
link

National Cherry Blossom Festival, Washington, DC  Japan's original, 1912 gift 3,020 trees was expanded by 3,800 trees in 1965. It's a beautiful spectacle.
link

Your Story
Are there any public gardens in your area you love to visit? Are there memories you have of bringing people with you and seeing their "sense of wonder" come alive?

Are there any collective rites of spring in your area? Are there any celebrations just about something blooming in your area?

I'd love to hear about any collective rites of spring you know about or participate in! (Next month I'll be writing about birds and bird migration)

Post a comment below!

updated 5 months ago

March 2010/Shoulder Season

Friday, March 05, 2010

The month of March, the saying goes, comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. Where I grew up, I could count on the cherry blossoms being ready to burst by the end of the month. But here in New England, spring feels less around the corner than halfway around the block! March always feels like a time of in-between to me.

Listening to the Land
When snow lines the bare trees, birds' nests really stand out, so I've been seeing nests I hadn't noticed before. I started wondering if the birds that will soon be returning reuse those nests or not.]

While some birds start all over, others don't. Some add new twigs to their old nest and soften it with feathers, moss and greenery. Others recycle the old nest, using its twigs to build anew somewhere else. Still others move into someone else's old nest.

Before spring nesting begins, there's a sizing up of the situation. Now is also a good time for us to size up our nests, to see what "twigs" need rearranging and to look around and see what we can clear out to make way for the new.

My Story
The birds' nests I've been contemplating are a perfect symbol for this in-between season. They helped me remember that this is a great time to reflect on what we have in our lives and to envision what comes next. To clear the way for the new growth that spring inspires.  

In the meantime, there are signs, if subtle, that spring is on the way. More hours of daylight. The song of birds in the trees rather than the "chip, chip, chip" of winter. The maple sugar trucks barreling up and down the road, collecting the rising sap.

Your Story
What do you do during the in-between season? How do you prepare to welcome spring?

Try this:
Plan Envision what you want to grow in your life and make a plan.

Get clear Clear out the old and make room for the new.

Notice Note even the small signs of spring and feel the life force that is beginning to rise.

Celebrate Have a spring feast with friends. Include something from the ground, like little new potatoes, and something from above, like leafy greens. And something sweetened with maple sugar for dessert! Share poems about spring.

Let me know what you find! Post your comments below.

updated 5 months ago

February 2010/ Songs of Love

Monday, February 01, 2010

February is when owls and coyotes begin to rock and roll. Owls can be heard calling back and forth in the forests, and coyote tracks can be seen side by side. Both species are said to mate for life, and both are especially vocal during mating season.

We have our own winter courtship ritual called Valentine's Day. It's when we bring out shiny red things, present them to our loved ones for inspection, and do a little song and dance of our own to win or rekindle their hearts.

Listening to the Land
While much of nature appears to be dormant in February, life is beginning to stir all around us. The owls and coyotes can be heard calling out to each other in the night.  The bears wake briefly in their dens to give birth to their cubs. The sap in the maple trees is beginning to rise. We too are beginning to feel a stirring inside.

My Story
One my favorite memories from my teenage years is when I was part of a local Audubon Society Youth Group and we went on a owl watch camping trip. Bill, our trip leader, walked right up to a huge pine and said, "This looks like a great owl tree." He walked in under the skirt and said, "Yep, barred owl up here, come see." I was in awe that he knew where to look. Did he know about that owl ahead of time? All night we listened to owls calling back and forth and told stories around a campfire. It was unforgettable. I often think about that night when the woods are still and quiet. There's a lot more going on out there than we think.

Your Story
When a reporter asked me if I knew of anyone who had used my music as part of their courtship ritual, I thought I'd invite you to post your answers to that question! Has my music assisted your courtship in any way? Have you fallen in love at a concert? Proposed at a show? Asked me to play a song to try and woo a guy or girl? It would be SO fun to hear your stories! Please post them below, anonymously or not.

Try this:
Music and courtship: Revisit some music (even if it's not mine!) that has been significant in your courtship of someone. Let yourself experience those feelings all over again. Pull out those CD's and play them loud. Better yet, make a mix CD of songs from your courtship and give it to the one you love.

Owl walk: If you're lucky enough to have an Audubon or other nature center in your area, I'll bet they're having an owl walk this month. Take a look and see if you can go.

Chocolate: If you're going to give chocolate this month, try a brand that is shade-grown, organic and fair-trade. It's better for the birds, forests and farmers, and better for you. My two favorites are Black and Green 70% Dark Chocolate and Equal Exchange Very Dark 71%. Yum.

Let me know what you find! Post a comment below.

updated 5 months ago

January  2010 Guided By Starlight

Friday, January 08, 2010

"We are Existent within knowledge of land,
We are Existent within knowledge of stars.
        ----Simon Ortiz, from the poem "Land and Stars, the Only Knowledge"

Astronomy is said to be the oldest science. For a long time people navigated their lives by the stars, oriented themselves in time and space. The stars told them when to plant or harvest and how to find their way when they were travelling. Of course they had no electric lights, so they could see a lot more stars. They had more time to just view them too.

Pondering this, I remembered a question I've always had: Why do stars always seem brighter in the winter? I found a really interesting answer at www.earthsky.org

In summer we're facing the center of the Milky Way galaxy, so we're actually seeing many, many more stars in summer than in winter. The hazy quality of the summer sky is really the combined light of billions of stars.

In winter, we're looking the opposite way, into the spiral arm of the galaxy in which our sun resides.  We're facing the outskirts of the galaxy, so we're seeing far fewer stars. With less competition, the stars we do see appear brighter! That's why the winter sky looks clearer and sharper than the summer sky.

To use the vernacular, how cool is that?

Learning this made me think about where I am right now in time and space. It oriented me not just as a little dot on the map but as a person on a planet looking sideways out into the galaxy to which I belong.  Knowing this "placed" me in the here and now in a new and unexpected way.

My Story
Whenever I return home after visiting my mother in the Washington, D.C., area, I become aware of how many more stars are visible out here in the country where we live. Each night before I enter the house, I pause, look up and say hello. I note which, if any, constellations I can see up above the trees. I silently thank the stars for being there and let them know I'm grateful for their presence.

Without them I could easily forget where I am. Where I REALLY am.  When I see the stars I feel connected to a mystery, a larger world far beyond my doorstep. As my neighbor Anne Yeoman so nicely put it the other day, "I'm better when I see the stars." Me too.

Listening to the Land
I consider stargazing to be one of the most powerful ways to reconnect with our sense of wonder. Stars are both explainable and unexplainable. To me they represent the certainty that life is larger than anything we humans can truly understand.  

I think we're missing something essential when we go too long without seeing a night full of stars. Think about all the creatures that are suffering because of light pollution. Many studies have shown the tragic effects of too many lights on migrating birds, sea turtles, insects and amphibians, and even on algae in lakes overlit by shoreside homes. If it's that disorienting for that much of nature, imagine what it does to us.

I admit to loving the glitter of a city all lit up at night. And by the fourth day of the ice storm last year, I really wanted the electricity back on. But that doesn't negate the fact that I am enraptured by the starry night sky. Starlight feeds my soul on another level. And the good news is that there are many ways to both have light and reduce light pollution. See resources below.

Try This
Gaze up: Take just a moment before you enter the house to gaze up at the stars. I find that just a moment (it's cold out there!) to say hello reconnects me with their magic and wonder.  

Get beyond the glare: Take a walk or drive out beyond the glare of the lights and see how many stars are there each night—far more than you normally see.  Remember that in the middle of your busy life: there are billions of stars up there!

Visit a planetarium: This is a really fun way to learn more and experience a connection with the stars, all while feeling warm and comfortable.

Your story
Did you take a few moments this week just to "be" with the stars? Did it shift how you felt about your "here and now"? Did it bring up any thoughts or feelings? What are they?

Let me know what you find! Post a comment below

Resources
Stars of the First People:Native American Star Myths and Constellations, by Dorcas S. Miller, Pruett Publishing, 1977  This book is packed with great interpretations of the night sky.

www.darksky.org Works to reduce light pollution.
www.starrynightlights.com  Has practical ways to change home lighting to reduce light pollution.

updated 8 months ago

December 2009  It's About the Tree

Wednesday, December 02, 2009

"Pine trees are second only to Oak in providing food for wildlife. In the northeastern quarter of the continent, the White Pine is most important in terms of food production.  Numerous birds—including Chickadees, Grosbeaks, Crossbills, Nuthatches, and Siskins—feed on the nutritious seeds. Small mammals that eat the seeds are the Chipmunk, Red and Gray Squirrels and the White Footed Mouse. Large mammals such as the Rabbit, Porcupine, Beaver and Deer tend to eat only the bark." —from Nature in Winter, by John Stokes

Pine trees are amazing, and in December, that magical time of year, we pause and remember the wonder of the evergreen tree. Not just as a resource, as food or shelter, as part of the landscape, but as something to behold. Something with such an uplifting quality that since ancient times, it has been the centerpiece of winter gatherings and celebrations.

Religious symbol or not, placed inside or out, cut or living, for one short period of time, we're focused on the tree's beauty. On its smell. On the hope its greenery provides. We adorn it with glittery trinkets. We step back, sip hot drinks, and quietly take in the magic.

Listening to the Land
Winter Solstice always falls on or around December 21st. It's about the return of the light. The word solstice comes from the Latin sol (sun) and stare (to stand still). In ancient times, people must have wondered when the light would return, and they erected stone structures, from Stonehenge to Chaco Canyon, that lined up with the winter solstice sunrise. They held celebrations and rituals to call back the light from the darkness.

This remains a time for gathering with friends and family in festive celebration. But it's also a time when the cycle of nature is all about quiet, stillness, and going within. No wonder people often feel stressed out around the holidays. As the pace amps up this month, remember how the cycle of nature at this time is about quieting down. If you feel a yearning for quiet reflection, I hope you'll follow it.

Try this:
Slow down: Step away from the clamor of shopping and family drama. Can you find some time for stillness and quiet, knowing that just like nature, you need this?

Notice: Observe how nature decorates pine trees too—with icy drops that sparkle like crystals, with pinecones that get frosted with snow, with bird's nests and winter birds. This year, stop and take a moment to make it about the tree, that ancient symbol of life.

Give back: Put out food for the birds. Mixing peanut butter with birdseed and spreading it on a pinecone is a fun way to decorate an outdoor tree and feed birds at the same time.

Recycle: Some years, instead of having a tree, we just trim a pine tree in the yard and put its boughs in a vase and decorate that. If you do get a cut tree, treat it with respect. While your tree was growing it was creating oxygen and providing food and shelter for wildlife. Once you've loved it and it's time to let it go, don't put your tree in a landfill. See if your community has a collection program, find a way to use it as mulch or compost, or leave it outside as a shelter for wildlife.

Your story:  
Take some time to focus on the of rhythm nature during this season. Go someplace where you can see and hear the stillness of the season. In the quiet, reflect on the past year and see if you can uncover some highlights or the "seed of an idea" you'd like to nurture as the light returns.  

Can you make it more about the tree this year? (For example, we love to use cranberries and popcorn strings, lights, and just a few really meaningful ornaments.) When we decorate it less, its beauty shines through.

See if you can find some trees that seem to have "nature's decorations" this month.

Let me know what you find! Post a comment below.

updated 10 months ago

NOVEMBER 2009  What's in a Name?

Monday, November 02, 2009

"Nothing was discovered. Everything was already loved."  From the poem "Homeland," by Karenne Wood (Monacan)

Whenever I come to a new place, I'm curious about why it looks and feels the way it does today. Places have layers. Each has a unique natural history, native history, immigrant history, industrial history, and so on. The more I learn about where I am, the more "there" I feel. That's what "sense of place" is all about.

For Thanksgiving this month, in honor of the people who extended their hand so the Pilgrims would not starve and die, we're going to look at the Native American names of places where we live.

All the land we live upon is Native American land, and it's dense with stories. Some are beautiful, some are tragic. The names of streets, towns, rivers, mountains, and lakes, even the name of your state, can tell you about the people who lived (and in many cases still live) in your area. Often you can uncover the native name for a place before it got "discovered" and was renamed.

Listening to the Land
Learning about the layers of time in one place gets my imagination going. I start to think about where the past and the present intersect. Often I'll build a song around what a place must have been like before and what it feels like to be there today.

There's a place near our house called Pocumtuck Mountain, where we sometimes hike. I decided to look up Pocumtuck. I found out that it's the name of a tribe that used to live here, and that there is a mountain range off Highway 91 called the Pocumtuck Range. I pass it all the time. The Pocumtucks are said to have told a story about the range being the shape of a giant beaver that once lived at the bottom of an enormous lake. This is so interesting because many thousands of years ago, a postglacial lake, Lake Hitchcock, occupied the Connecticut River valley.

All I knew before was that the mountain at the end of the range was called Mount Sugarloaf, and that it's a popular picnic spot and an awesome place to watch the hawk migration. Now I see the shape of a giant beaver. And it makes me think about how this valley was a huge lake at one time. I think about what might look the same and what might look different when the Pocumtucks walked here. I think about them living here and telling these stories at night, and it makes me feel more connected to this place. And that's a feeling we could all use more of these days.

Try this: Find some place-names in your area and follow their trail. Sometimes the translations are full of colorful imagery that will make you look at a place in a new way

Have you ever referred to a town as "the place where Home Depot is?" You might learn that its name means "place of clear waters." If you can't find the name's meaning, you can make one up based on the natural features unique to that place. It will shift your whole perspective about that town.

Or look up your state's name. Many are based on native names. For example, Massachusetts means "at or about a great hill." Minnesota is from a Dakota word meaning "sky-tinted water," and Mississippi means "father of the waters."

Your story: After learning the origins of some familiar place-names, do you think about your place differently and want to learn more about the people who created those names? Can you see another layer of time? Can you sense the past more clearly? Now that you know a deeper story about your place, how do you see it differently?

Let me know what you find! Post a comment below.

updated 11 months ago

October 2009 The Nourishment of Three Sisters Stew

Friday, October 02, 2009

      "In late spring, we plant the corn and beans and squash. They're not just plants--we call them the three sisters. We plant them together, three kinds of seeds in one hole. They want to be together with each other, just as we Indians want to be together with each other. So long as the three sisters are with us, we know we will never starve. The Creator sends them to us each year. We celebrate them now. We thank Him for the gift He gives us today and every day."
    ---Chief Louis Farmer (Onondaga)
     
      These three plants, when grown together, help each other grow stronger. Corn stalks provide a pole for the beans to grow on. Beans enrich the soil with nitrogen, helping the corn and squash to grow. Squash spreads out low to the ground, preventing weeds and maintaining moisture in the soil.
     
      Listening to the Land
      For me, the world is full of metaphors that help me make sense of my life. Often in nature (and other places) I'll find an image or idea that becomes the springboard for a song, story or poem.
     
      When I hear the story of the three sisters and how they work together, I can't help thinking about the places in my life that I feel are working together to nourish me, and the places in my life where I feel depleted and undernourished.
     
      Sometimes I am overfocused on my work and what needs to get done in the office. I don't take the time to walk or cook or do anything creative. I am like a bulldozer just barreling ahead full force, trying to get tasks done one after the other. Lacking the essential nutrients I need to feel good, I feel like curling up and complaining. It's all too hard and all too much, and I give up. I'm not in balance. How I take care of my body affects my mind. When I take care of my body and my mind is clear, it frees up energy, which affects my spirit. If I go on too long ignoring a part of myself, I begin to feel depleted.  
     
      Your Story: Think about where in your life you feel fully nourished and where in your life you feel depleted. Can you see how the parts of your life could function like the three sisters, each helping the other?
     
      Try This: Set a timer for 10 minutes and write about how you are nourishing your mind, body, and spirit in your life right now. List three small actions you could take between now and winter solstice  (December 21) to bring more balance into your life.
     
      Recipe at www.care2.com/greenliving/three-sisters-stew-recipe.html

updated 11 months ago