Going Off-Grid

For about two months, I've been off Facebook and a bit off-grid. I'm currently living in a tiny house on a bluff overlooking Discovery Bay in Port Townsend. Before that, I lived for a month out on Bush Point on Whidbey Island overlooking the water. Ever since my classes went online due to the Coronavirus, I haven't felt the desire to be in the city. For the most part, I've lived pretty unplugged and it's been the biggest blessing. Some may say that I don't care about what's going on. It really depends on your perspective of things.  I've felt called to work more inwardly than outwardly. One is not better than the other. It is just what you feel called to do. That is IT! I'm not here to judge what you are doing and hopefully you are not here to judge what I'm doing. Hopefully we can see the benefit of all of it. Hopefully we can reach a place where we value what each human is moved to do or be, regardless of whether it fits into our ideas of things. As long as we are not intentionally harming anyone and the motivation is one of love, I think all paths are valid.

Out here in the tiny house, I'm called each day to hike down the bluff to the water and walk the long stretch of beach that is virtually empty of people. Every now and then I may see a soul or two, but not often. Instead of people, I'm communing with the blue herons, eagles, hawks, ravens, otters and seals. For some time now, I've been communing with wild animals. They seem to speak a language that I understand or am beginning to understand. Today a blue heron landed in a pine branch above my head. Have you ever seen a blue heron land in front of you. Those things are mammoth and look like pterodactyls. The energy of this animal is amazing. And to witness a bald eagle eye-level with me on the bluff as I sit quietly in a chair on the edge of the cliff, well, there's no other place I'd rather be.

The eagle speaks to me these days. He's the symbol of our times. Well, the eagle is the symbol of our country, yet maybe we've forgotten what it symbolizes on a spiritual level. The eagle sits high above the fray. It observes. It doesn't jump into this or that easily, it looks at the big picture. It witnesses with keen eyes that see all. It knows precisely when to make a move and precisely when not to make a move. A few days ago I sat with my morning coffee high up on the bluff witnessing the eagle. Two crows swooped down on the eagle and were being very menacing. They seemed to want to get its attention or get it to move, but it sat with its talons clinging firmly to a pine branch. It did not move or was not swayed by these birds. It observed their behavior with amusement, it seemed. I even felt a sense of compassion for the crows. How they wanted the attention the eagle so desperately, but the eagle wasn't there to amuse them. It was there to watch over all that was going on. What a powerful bird the eagle is. How majestic it is when it lifts off from a branch to soar high above the earth. How keen its eyes are to really SEE.

I think that's it. I'm here to SEE. Not to see what you are doing or what everyone else is doing or to follow the latest news, but to go inward and feel what I am personally moved to do.

And out here, I'm moved to meditate, commune with nature, witness, observe, feel, sense, intuit. I'm here to work from the inside out. So much attention is given to what is happening outside. What about what's happening inside? Recently I've found that that is exactly where all the answers are. At least for me.

Living in a tiny house for a month has also been eye-opening. I love it! What more do I need? Over the years I've slowly whittled down my belongings. I have a small storage unit and no permanent home to speak of. I dream of owning a piece of land  near water with a self-sufficient tiny home. I don't need much, really.

For now, I'm content in the "not knowing," I'm okay in the now. I am flowing with each day and each day brings new things. What a miracle it is just to be alive. How lucky we are to be here on Earth! What an amazing thing that is.

At night, out here on Cape George Road, there are a million stars. Jupiter and Saturn have been so bright in the night sky. I can see tiny stars between bigger stars and the Milky Way swirls above me. One night, after visiting my boyfriend for a night in the city (we actually went to Sunset Hill Park at night and saw the comet Neowise), we took a night ferry boat to Kingston  and arrived after dark at the tiny house. All was quiet up on the bluff and the stars made us stop and pull up chairs and sit with our heads straight up in silence. A few shooting stars moved across the night sky. How small we all are. How short our time here is. Yet we live on in one form or another for eternity. The animals and the stars and the plants have no agenda but to "be". Their being-ness draws me in and speaks to me. Speaks about a time when we did not need words or computers or TV or money. We knew. We moved the way animals move. We understood without speaking. We knew the direction of the wind and understood where we were by the position of stars. The earth was not something to tame for human consumption, it was a part of us and we a part of it.

I'm called back to remember. I want to hear this soundless sound again. I want to bear witness to the eagle in me and me in the eagle. I want to taste the thimble berries now juicy and ripe on the branch and pluck huckleberries growing out of old-growth tree stumps. I want to put my ear to a shell I find in the smooth, soft sand and hear the wild ocean and I want to taste the salty sea on me. I'm not afraid to jump into the frigid waves and stick my head down under the seaweed-ed bay and dive to the bottom and touch the earth there where it's quiet and soundless. I will dry myself off on a log on the beach and lay there until I'm moved to rise. Do I have time? Do I have time to just be? What else is there to DO actually?

And so this is what I'm doing out here. I'm teaching online and tuning in and feeling each moment and allowing it to guide me. I'm not moving in fear, I'm moving in FLOW and flow has so much to teach me. All of life is actually a flow. It's the mind that clings and attaches and insists. It's the mind, our prize possession, that can stop the flow of life. 

Was it the Buddhists who said, "If you want to be free, remove your head?" I get that. 

Life is not linear, it is happening all at once on many levels. What you are witnessing now is no accident. It was precisely designed for YOU to witness. Are you witnessing? Reacting? Are you in fear or in flow? 

The flow is shifting for me soon. Rationally, it doesn't make a lot of sense. If I try to wrap my head around all the details, I don't get very far. But in the moment, all is quite beautiful and amazing and there is a tremendous love and gratitude inside. I feel very blessed and am not afraid. I feel guided. And even if what I do does not make sense to many, It makes sense to me. I'm going to let go and keep following this flow....

Reflections of Self Healing Day Two: Nature Holds the Key

Dear Earthlings,




"...the heart in thee is the heart of all; not a valve, not a wall, not an intersection is there anywhere in nature, but one blood rolls uninterruptedly an endless circulation through all men, as the water of the globe is all one sea, and, truly seen, its tide is one."—Ralph Waldo Emerson

Wowee! What a world we are living in. So much unknown out there and everyone is trying to assert their own opinions of what is true. What is true for you may not be true for me. Now there's a TRUTH. 

I had a dream last night where millions of people were staring into tiny screens the size of Zoom boxes looking for all the answers. They were focused on the screen to tell them what to believe. And these individual screens became very REAL for each person. They were so real that they couldn't imagine believing anything beyond what they saw or read on the SCREEN.

The screens and images on the screen became part of their brains and bodies. They each walked around with a screen for a brain. 

And they forgot about the birds and the bees and the flowers and the trees. It was all about people. It wasn't even about EARTHLINGS, but people who were separated from their environment. And as long as they tuned into the screen, the perceived safety of that little square, all was okay, so each one of them thought.

But then people started attacking each other because their screen information didn't match another person's screen information. They were all reacting to what was projected on their screens. And then they were trying to find screens that matched their screens to attack the other screens.

Gee Whiz, maybe there's been waaaaaay too much screen time these days!

Yesterday I spent the entire day gardening with my boyfriend. He lives in a house in Shoreline and the person who lived there before him was into gardening and left an amazing garden, but it had become overgrown and chaotic.

It felt so good to get my hands in the earth and to feel my body as part of the earth. Stepping into that garden allowed me to move away from the screen and step into my own frequency. I felt my hands touch the soil. I dug holes and planted tomatoes, zucchini, peppers, herbs and other veggies. I smelled that pungent earthy smell of composted soil with all those nutrients. I plucked some mint and popped it into my mouth. I harvested leeks and collard greens and celery and made a fragrant stir fry, adding herbs and other spices. All my senses came to life. 

When I work long hours on the computer, I'm aware of a metallic energy. It doesn't feel natural. Sometimes my body becomes cold and I have to get in a Himalayan salt bath to feel my natural energy again. It's only when I get outside and feel my body move under the leafy green trees and along the pine-needled path that I feel alive and part of each thing. My boyfriend found a bird feeder in his shed. I filled it with wild finch seed and today a finch with a glowing orange breast came to the feeder for several minutes. I watched in awe of this creature as it fluttered its wings in happiness at this amazing feast. 

This morning, my boyfriend and I juiced beets, apples, celery, carrots, ginger and collard greens from the garden. Drinking this elixir was like drinking the earth itself. I could feel every cell come alive and I felt my body connect deep down into the many layers of earth and then outward to every living thing. And when I grounded myself, I felt my own frequency. It wasn't part of the so-called world-wide web. It wasn't about Zoom or governments, or money, or the daily news. It was beyond right and wrong and judgements and criticisms and thoughts and fear.

 It was a web so ancient and immense, with an intelligence much greater than anything we humans could ever dream up. It extended and connected all of life. It vibrated and pulsated with pure energy. Life and death were part of the entire picture. They were as natural as the brilliant hues of autumn foliage, which are essentially dead leaves. There was no need to preserve anything because each living thing fed back into the earth to bring new life. We are drops of water in the ocean of time, yet we are living like we are the most important beings on the planet. We rush around in cars with schedules chocked full and in the end we have no time for anything. We've been running to our own demise for some time.

When I'm able to pull my energy back to my core or center,  I'm able to feel my own breath, sensations, emotions, intuition, inner stirrings and senses. I'm not seeking outside myself for answers. The answers are always right here in each moment and each moment becomes my life. 

Earthlings were not meant to be locked inside with computers, they are part of this earthly web and disconnecting from it can have much more dire consequences than anything currently threatening the human species.

My own experience tells me to connect with nature. Nature holds the key to everything and it also nourishes my life and all lives. It can survive without us, but we can't survive without it. By tuning into nature on a very deep level, I sense a language that has been forgotten. It's in the wind, the trees, the calls of birds, the tides, the phases of the moon and sun. It's in me.

Reflections on Self Healing Day One: Walking With Your Wounds Wide Open

Hello fellow Earthlings,

I thought I'd try my hand at a poem today. I used to write poetry in college and even published some of my poetry, but gave it up long ago. Well, here, I go:

Walking With Your Wounds Wide Open

That place

where you touch me

makes me recoil

in fear

that you will see my wound

beneath masks

smiles are

hidden

And I'm safe

for now

perched 

high above

in this 

nest 

over 

the 

city

where 

no one 

can 

see 

my wound.

Facebook 

Fakebook

who 

are 

you 

inside?

What if our wounds met?

What if we removed the masks?

What if you saw 

who I really am?

Heart to heart

Hand in Hand

Don't touch

Don't breath

Don't speak

Just hold me close

in 

silence.

Well, that poem just wants to be there for now. Most of my writing is stream of consciousness. I don't edit much. The last few days have been an assault to the senses, all of them beaten raw. Three days ago, I felt like a bird that had entered a building and was trapped inside frantically looking for an exit. I felt like I was banging my bruised body against glass. I so want everyone to be okay, but I am not. I'm not here to please you and I don't owe you anything. My life and my story are just as important as yours. If we could walk with hands over hearts and say, "I see you and I feel you," what a world we would have. Fighting, anger, the silent treatment, narcissism, control, assumptions, false perceptions, medication, spiritual bypass, corruption, manipulation, alcoholism, drug addiction, lying, stealing, speaking behind others backs are all there like royal cloaks covering these gaping wounds. I too have participated in this madness. What in the world are we doing? All of it made me want to flee and so I took up residence in this perch high above the city for a few days. I took off my mask and my shoes and sat here on the edge of the bed with nothing on but this wound. It's the one I've carried around since childhood. It's the one that pleases and wants everyone to feel okay. It's the one that worries that I'll say something that will upset you. It's the one that is afraid to get too close to my lover because I might let down my guard completely and be seen and fully loved for who I am. It's the wound that keeps getting reinfected because I let others trample all over it. I keep giving people the benefit of the doubt, only to get smacked down again. Did I tell you that I have a really good counselor? She has seen me since my husband left. She couldn't get through to him, but she got through to me. She sees right into my soul and holds me in that place where it hurts and sits with me there and tells me "That's where the good work is happening, let's stay there." And her heart opens wide and so does mine. Your story and your life are important, but what story do you want to live now? I am done carrying this wound around, but in order for it to heal, it needs deep love and attention.  No one in the world can give me that love and care if I don't give it to myself. Two nights ago, I took a bath in the clawfoot tub. Inside I sprinkled scented Himalayan salt. Salt for the wounds is so painful, but so healing. I sat in that steaming water and let it soothe me. I let go and allowed myself to be cradled in that warmth. And when I got out, I rubbed coconut oil over my skin and took deep sips of herbal tea and breathed. And I saw that this spot was no longer raw and exposed and vulnerable. I saw that it was healing and that it was not in danger of being cut open again because it had received the proper attention and care. It had received my own deep love. And this morning, after being here alone for three days without much interaction, I walked through the city in the pouring rain through half-deserted streets and boarded up shops and I knew, with full confidence, that I will never again hide who I am. I'm not afraid anymore. I'm going to fly high. Soon I will fly from this perch, but I won't be going back to where I came from. I'm flying to where my heart sings! I'm heading back to where the eagle soars. I know what it feels like to have those piercing eyes stare straight into my soul. 

The eagle that stared into my soul at Dungeness Spit

The eagle is Scorpio's totem along with the Phoenix. I wear the sign of death and transformation. I'm not afraid to die. While a scar may still remain, it doesn't brand me for life. I'm free to choose my path. I'm free to die each day. And this story will be written and it may not be the one you thought you'd read, but it will be true and it will be good.

Healing for the Earth, Day 30: Life, Death and Waking Up To This Moment Right Here and Now

Dear fellow Earthlings,

Day 30 is here and so is River with thoughts about life and death and the precious moments we have right here, right now in front of us. I'm so pleased to have River, the facilitator of my shaman circle, here to share her beautiful words with us all. I will be back tomorrow with final words of how this month of blogging was for me, but now, here's River....

Earlier today, a man came and took Dad’s car away. Moments after reading Mae’s story, I was still close to tears. So, perhaps it wasn’t surprising that as I watched it go I had a flash of remembering the ambulance that took Dad’s body away a year ago. I welcome the tears for the second time today, sitting on the front steps in the warm spring light, the smell of Daphne and Magnolia scenting the air. I miss him. I’ll never stop missing him.

There’s no doubt that the love is still here. Pure and strong. His face is so clear and close. I’m grateful for the old photo of him I found in the garage a few days ago. Just like I remember him; steering the boat, an old outboard. He’s brown as a berry, smiling, relaxed, free. He used to take me out of school this time of year if it was sunny out, so we could get out on the water. Lots of times it was just me and Dad.

Now, I’m walking in my neighborhood. Its a beautiful spring day and flowers are blooming everywhere. The air is fresher than its been in a long time and there are so few cars on the road its a pleasure to walk down the middle. I grew up in small towns and developed my love of walking down the middle of the road honestly.

It’s as if the neighborhood is waking up to itself. There are people out in front yards doing all kinds of things. Gardening, cleaning out garages, working on cars. Off work and tired of being cooped up and isolated, people are smiling at one another and starting up conversations with neighbors they’ve previously barely glimpsed. From a safe social distance of course. And now I’m discovering my neighborhood as it discovers itself. When I discover a park at the end of the road, with wetlands, dirt trails and a beaver dam, I feel like I’ve won the lottery.

Even though I’m enjoying the astonishing gift of today, I’m also walking along thinking about death. Sometimes, when I think about dying, its scary. Maybe its because I don’t know what it will be like for me. I know that even if I could hear every story that ever was, I still wouldn’t know. I’m hoping for an experience something like Mae’s experience with her friend Robin. I hope I’ll be smiling and with someone who loves me. I wish that for everyone. I send out a silent prayer, as I often do, when I remember those who are dying of the virus at this very moment. May Divine Mother hold each and every one.

As I walk, I'm thinking and feeling into it all, right here in the middle of what is usually a busy road. And I find another fear curled up inside my fear of death. The fear that I will fail. I love this World more than words can say. Its beauty feeds me, heart and soul. Its Aliveness is my aliveness. And Humanity, with our struggle to be born as a Global People, is heartbreaking and beautiful, and so in need of our collective compassion and support.

I need to be of service. Am I doing everything I’m suppose to do today? Am I missing chances to make a difference?

There is some Thing, holding me right this moment as I question my life and my purpose. Something beneath and all around me and its strong, solid and calm. It is Compassion for this need I have, this wanting to be worthy of my life and this Beauty. It holds me through the grief of having failed over and over again, and accepts me as I am right now, gently encouraging me to step into Life. What is this? Who is this? "Hu..."

The answer comes as birds singing and sky bluer than I’ve seen in years. A particular shade I’ve only seen here where I live and nowhere else. Warm sun and people puttering in their gardens, cleaning out garages, washing cars, planting flowers. Our neighborhood is getting more beautiful by the moment. I breathe a little deeper.

With Love, River

For over 10 years, River Ledgerwood has practiced as a Sufi Mystic and Shamanic Healer. She is a Reiki Practitioner level II, and Dervish Healing Order Healing Conductor with the Ruhaniat International Sufi Order. She co-teaches with Hank Wesselman at Breitenbush Hot Springs Retreat and Conference Center and Mosswood Hollow in Duvall Washington.

Healing for the Earth Day 28: More About Meditation by Guest Blogger Scott Walsh

Dear Earthlings,

 Day 28! Another fabulous post by guest blogger Scott Walsh. Enjoy!

Ah the coronavirus, the CORONAVIRUS!!  Have you heard the latest pronouncement from Gov. Inslee?  It’s now illegal to post something on Facebook that ISN’T about the coronavirus.  Ha ha, small joke there.  

I came across a quote from the 17th c. mathematician Blaise Pascal that is very appropriate for these times: “All (people’s) miseries derive from not being able to sit in a quiet room alone”.  Way to anticipate social distancing 400 years ago, Blaise.  For myself, being told I should stay in my house IS in my comfort zone.  This morning before I arose I thought of the deliciousness of the morning routine to come: raising the blinds, pouring coffee out of that steaming, burbling little device I use, sitting down at my kitchen table to write as I watch streaked sunlight make its way across the backyard.  

Of course, full disclosure, it hasn’t ALL been domestic bliss.  In light of all that’s happening, insecurity about my economic prospects had me FREAKING OUT a few days ago.  I imagine this must be a widespread phenomenon.  Normal life as we know it has ground to a halt.  Suddenly, stopping to smell the roses has become one of the few remaining items on our rapidly shrinking daily to-do lists.  

As for freaking out, it helps that I have been a meditator for a few decades now.  What this means is, when I sat down and closed my eyes, I was able to put some borders around that little freaking out voice, which was yapping away like a small dog woken up by the mail carrier.  Here’s the thing about meditation: it’s a practice built around the fact that one thing we humans will always have, is the freedom to CHOOSE where we focus our attention.  

Some times it might seem that it’s not us, but what’s happening to us, that determines where our attention goes.  For instance, when it suddenly looks like my carpentry clients might have to withdraw their financial support because THEY’RE worrying how THEY’RE going to get paid, then you could say: but of course a little worrying on my part is natural. Unavoidable even.  

OK, I COULD say that, but it’s actually more than a little worrying.  Remember the solar eclipse?  What was that three years, though it seems like a lifetime, ago?  Remember how our fair friendly sun was COMPLETELY BLOCKED OUT for about an hour?  Well that’s worry for you.  All semblance of a pleasant, joyful, manageable existence is GONE.  It’s just OUT THE WINDOW.  

And not only does that SUCK, but as a believer in the Law of Attraction, because I’ve seen it play out so many times in my own life, I now hold as a TRUE FACT that worrying is a sure fire way to manifest SUCK-INESS IN THE FUTURE.    

For these two reasons then, when I sat down to meditate I wasn’t in the mood for half-measures.  The careening craziness of my mind, batting like a pin ball from one subject to another - from what my clients had said, to wondering about the future, to working out the probabilities of things - all of it had to STOP.  

There was all that mental screaming.  Yes, all that.  And then there was something else to focus on, the fact I was ALIVE, as evidenced by my breath: IN and OUT.  In and out.  In and out.  

But WHAT ABOUT THIS!!!!?????!!!!!!, went my mind.  And for a few seconds more I was carried away on a sleigh ride to the land of TUMULT.  Fear.  FEAR FEAR FEAR FEAR !!!!!!!!!!  And Worry.  FEAR AND WORRY, FEAR AND WORRY!!!

It wanted to overwhelm me.  It wanted to carry me away, like water sucked down a drain.  

And for a while it seemed like it would.  For a few seconds.  The noise and the worry and the fear seemed like all there was.  But like I said, I’ve been doing this for a while, and I’ve learned to count on the fact that in the middle of whatever I might be feeling or thinking, there’s always life; there’s always the passage of time.  There’s always the ability to FOCUS on that unwinding journey from the present of now to the present that comes later.  

This, strange to say, helps.  It gives the lie first of all to the idea that circumstances determine what I give my attention to.  Actually no, I get to choose.  

Secondly, it quiets me down.  That yapping voice I spoke of is put inside a cotton-lined box, then it goes away entirely, as long as I keep putting my focus on the now.  My heart rate and breathing slow down.  

Thirdly, after doing this for awhile, the moment seems to EXPAND. 

If we are used to moving through time the way a person walks down a trail - then let’s be honest, as we go down that road, mostly we’re thinking about where we’re going and where we’ve been.  So, just by making the intention to stop and notice the scenery along the way, we get to the point where that scenery looms larger.

There’s the clock ticking that suddenly seems really loud, and the whoosh whoosh of cars going by.  The breath going in and out of my nose; now my nose itches.  Scratching nose.  This reminds me of a friend.  That was a weird conversation we had a week ago.  Then another thought piggy backs on that one, and another and another.  That’s thinking for you.  At some point I realize I’ve gone off track, and try to bring my mind BACK to the moment.  I notice in the interim my heart rate has gotten faster.  I notice the air entering and exiting my nose.  I notice that the time interval between all these things starts taking on a depth.  Rather than being a point, a milestone unceremoniously crossed along the ruler of time, the intervals in between start taking on a “thingness” all by themselves.  This doesn’t happen every time I meditate, but sometimes it feels as if I could take a right angle from where I’m going and delve into the minuscule micro-seconds of time like a skier cutting down a slope of untouched powder.  It’s a little hard to explain, a little freaky even, but it sometimes feels that everything there is is right there - a whole universe encapsulated in a single moment you could say.

The fourth and final thing I’ve noticed about meditation also doesn’t happen every time I do it.  The times it has happened however have profoundly affected the way I think about myself in the world.  

First of all, I want to say that I was attracted to meditation because there wasn’t too much in the way of doctrine or dogma or any sets of beliefs I needed to adhere to.  There was no need for a leap of faith.  There was only the intention toward staying aware about what was going on with me when I sat down to meditate, and a good word for that is MINDFULNESS.  The breath goes in and the breath goes out - the idea was to practice putting my focus there, and one word you didn’t hear very often in this tradition was “heretic”.  

But in the middle of all that a funny thing happened.  I would say that for me this was a significant thing; and saying that I understand that its significance would not necessarily be the same for everybody.  

Simply put, in the middle of some of my deeper meditations, I began to have the profound, and therefore very real sense that I was not alone.  I came away from these peak experiences with the impression that instead of being the singular glob of matter in a universe filled with similar objects the way my teachers in school had explained,  I was somehow part of a fabric that included everything, and like everything, my existence was somehow important, even necessary.  

It may sound crazy, because there certainly was no logic involved, but the deeply-felt perceptions I was having didn’t need a logical framework in order to satisfy me about their authenticity.  There was something about them that the innermost regions of my mind, what I would now call my “soul” responded to.  I believed in them without the need to second guess myself, and as I said, my whole world view changed.

Anyway, that’s what I have to say about this subject.  Good luck, and by way of a farewell, I’d like to repeat what I just said - and what I now whole-heartedly believe: that ALL of us are NECESSARY.  All of us are VITAL.

All the Best!

Scott Walsh is a teacher of meditation and and psychic techniques and is the co-founder of The Seattle Psychic Institute.  He has been practicing meditation most of his life, has been a psychic for 18 years and a teacher for 7 years.  The sense of connection, purpose and joy that practicing these techniques have brought him can’t be over emphasized.  

Healing for the Earth, Day 27: Life in Isolation by Guest Blogger Kirk Harris

Hello fellow Earthlings!

We have a special guest, Kirk Harris, here on my blog all the way from the woods of Breitenbush, where he has been living and working for 6 plus years. He shares his experience of isolation and what that means to him and how he is navigating these strange times we are in. Thanks for being here Kirk!

Greetings from the woods: Life in isolation at Breitenbush

Life at Breitenbush is an experience unlike anything I have had in my life so far. I moved up here in the summer of 2014 and was immediately taken by how much different it was from where I had lived the majority of my life this time around. I primarily lived in a more urban type of environment. I was, and still am, amazed at how quiet and peaceful it can be living in the middle of the forest here in Oregon. To be able to see all the stars at night and the moon shining over the Breitenbush River as it roars along day and night is an amazing experience for the senses. It is one that I have not had the opportunity to enjoy or be mesmerized by before.

Having said that, the last 3 weeks here has been an eye opening, as well as a heart opening, experience as well. Nearly 4 weeks ago we decided to close to the public at what is the beginning of our busiest time of the year and to prepare for being closed for a period of time and we were not sure how long it would be. We were not sure how long we would be closed, if we would be able to open back and if so when that might be. We are still unsure and not exactly clear if and when that might be happening. Needless to say it has brought with it a sense of fear, anxiety and dread over some of us and that was only the beginning of what was to come, and is still coming.

Along with the fear, anxiety and dread of what might happen has also come a vastly different experience for me and some of the other folks who live here and call Breitenbush home and have called the land here home for some years. There are many aspects to this adventure for us here. For me Breitenbush and living and working here comprises 3 areas...The business of running a hot springs retreat center, the community of people here who steward and manage the land and the business and last, but certainly not least, the Land itself.

The circumstances and situations that are playing out lately here and around the world have brought most of the business aspects to a halt...there are no guests here these days which makes for a very quiet place to live and be. Not only people wise but energetically as well...it is a different Breitenbush and experience for sure. It has been an amazing experience to be here without the day to day business obligations of being at work and being of service to the guests...it has been profoundly different to be unplugged from that world and at first was very surreal and I found myself in a kind of shock that I had not experienced before and that has been expressed by others who live here.

This leads me to the second part of the experience here: The community here at Breitenbush. It would not be a surprise to some if the community, when isolated like we have been, physically as well as other ways, might fall apart in some ways. But much to my happiness and joy that has not been the case, in fact I have noticed and witnessed a kind of opposite effect...I have seen and experienced people pulling together instead of apart and this adventure we are all on has strengthened the community in many ways and it has been a joy to see people coming together to volunteer their time and effort to aid and help out the community to remain together. We are still here, still a community and still learning and growing from this experience...it has not been easy and without problems, challenges and other hard times and yet I think this has made all of us look at what is important and what are the priorities in our lives.

This brings me to the last part of the equation that I call Breitenbush. The Land! It has been my experience that I have grown closer to this Land that I fell in love with many years ago, the first time I came here. I have had the opportunity and time these last 3+weeks to see beyond what I had seen before and to dive deeper into what this Land really means, not just to me but to others who live here. It is interesting, and I am very grateful, that this adventure is occurring during spring when all is coming back to life after the winter.

The winters here can be kinda hard and difficult with all the rain, snow and greyness that winter brings with it, so being isolated like this in the winter might be very heavy. With the spring it is as if the Land is coming back to life and and telling us how important it is and how connected we all are and that we all need a breather and a chance to step back from the "busyness" and how it is important to take a deep breath and just be at one with where we are. Sometimes people will tell me "it must be really great to live and work in paradise" and while it is an amazing thing to live and work here...it is still work and there are hard challenges about living and working here.

This is a time for all of us around the world to look at life and where we are at and make decisions about how we want to live and the choices we have the freedom to make in regards to living that life. What are our priorities? What do we want "normal" to be? Do we want to go back to what we thought of as "normal" before this all started? Someone once told me that "normal is a setting on the washing machine". And I have taken that and looked at it recently and had the time to delve into that and dive deep to feel it and what it means. It has brought up a great many questions, thoughts, feelings, and desires about what I would like to see "normal" as in this world.

What do you want "normal" to be?

Kirk Harris has lived and worked at Breitenbush Hot Springs for almost 6 years as a member of the kitchen team. He also teaches Shamanic Journeying as part of the daily well being programs at Breitenbush. Kirk has been in the cooking field for over 25 years and also has been a counselor for over 10 years. Since moving to Breitenbush, Kirk has become more interested and involved in the area of Spiritual explorations and self discovery through many types of spiritual practices based in different schools of thought such as Buddhism, Taoism, Sufism and Shamanism. His interests include reading, writing, hiking, spiritual practices, being close to the natural world and interacting with his fellow cohabitants at Breitenbush...oh yes, and music. Since moving to Breitenbush, Kirk has been learning how to play several musical instruments including Ukulele, Drums, and Native American Flute.

Healing for the Earth, Day 26: Gardening for Health

"And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair."—Khalil Gibran

Hello fellow Earthlings,

Let me be the first to announce: I AM NOT A GARDENER.

Yet, 2020 seems to be the year that we step out of our comfort zones and do new things and wear different hats.

So today I put on the gardening gloves found in my parents' garage and grabbed a bucket and some gardening tools and went out in the sun and toiled in the Earth.

It felt good to get my hands dirty after having to keep them so damn clean with this virus. It felt good to get a little messy and talk to the 91-year-old neighbor over the fence about how he keeps his apple tree pruned in order to have a good crop of apples.

When I came outside to the garden, I think he was surprised. He hadn't seen me in months in the yard. I just don't hang out there. I tend to walk straight to the beach and hang out in other places on my walks.

He was gardening too and other people in the neighborhood were also gardening and some were walking their dogs and riding their bikes. It was a beautiful day!

"I'm a bit of a hermit," I told him.

"Actually, I am too," he said.

And then, "Do you sleep in? I never see the blinds opened."

I was a little embarrassed, but I rarely open the blinds on the side of the house that faces other houses. I only open the blinds that look out on the golf course. I guess I like my privacy out here. I like to write, and work on my class and do my own things. I enjoy exercise, but I'm not a big neighborhood socialite. In fact, most of the neighbors have never seen me. I'm sure they see my car and wonder, "Is there someone there?"

But today, like a bear that finally pokes its nose out of its den, I made an appearance in the hood. It felt good to be out in the sun working in the yard and talking to the neighbors. I saw a hummingbird and bees and a raven and a few eagles way up high. I would toil for awhile and then sit on the bench in the sun and then toil some more. I managed to fill a huge bucket full of weeds, but there's lots more to do. I feel like this may be a new activity for me as the weather starts to get nicer and warmer. Who knows? Maybe I'll even sit out on the deck in the sun and read! Whoa, now I'm really venturing out of my comfort zone!

I'm fortunate to be here at my parents' house. I'll be leaving here in May. I've enjoyed it so much. After living here for nearly 5 months, I've decided that I want to live on the Olympic Peninsula. My body and spirit love it out here. I love the spaciousness and all the hiking and nature and water nearby.

I don't know where on the Olympic Peninsula I'll land next, but wherever it is, I know I'd like my boyfriend to live with me and I'd love to get a cat. I hope I have nice neighbors like the ones here and I think I might just have to create a garden!

Do you like to garden? What do you like about it?