a mouse on the porch

There's a little black mouse on my porch. She's a tiny little thing, just an inch long with a tail twice the length of her body. Her eyes are half closed and her ears are flat against her head. She's not moving except for uncontrollable quivering of her tiny, fragile little body.

I met her a few days ago as she ran across my living room floor in the dark quiet of night. Lights off, I peripherally glimpsed a wee dark shadow scampering it's way across the carpet. Somehow the (humane) mouse traps we'd set didn't appeal to her. Not even the succulent gobs of peanut butter mouse-treat we'd put inside the traps were enough to bring her inside. Little did I know at the time there was something far more appealing that was enticing her to stay in our home.

Each evening after dark, the same little shadow caught my eye then mysteriously disappeared somewhere in the depths of our home. (I envision the cringe-shreiks of some of my more squeamish readers as I type this; mice are a notorious source of panic and fear in so many, and I can't understand why as I hold this frail little creature lovingly in the palm of my hand. I digress.) Trusting that the traps would catch her and contain her, I gave the little mouse no further thought.

Last night, the sky was almost completely devoid of the dusky indigo of twilight as I settled under my comfortable blanket for a (hopefully) peaceful sleep. Eyes closed, my mind wandered to events of the day in a restful reverie. Enjoying the quiet, I began to allow myself to drift into sleep when I suddenly felt a slight tickle on my back. With memories of a wasp innocently crawling under my clothes and then panicking with a defensive sting, I sat up quickly and billowed out my nightshirt to allow quick exit to whatever creature was sharing my clothing. There, scampering across the floor once again, was the little black mouse-shadow with the long tail. She headed for the kitchen where our traps were set. I left her to find a place to hide for the night, thinking the allure of peanut butter would be too much to pass up. Giving it no more thought, I fell into a deep sleep.

Morning came peacefully. Opening my eyes and stretching out on my back, I spent a few minutes enjoying the relaxing state between sleep and awakeness. My daughter soon joined me on the bed, snuggling and laughing before heading out the door with her Dad. I arose, enjoying the peace of being alone in the house for a few minutes before getting on with my day.

As usual, I went about my business of making the bed. Tossing the covers, I became aware of a small black 'something' on the floor nearby. A second glance brought realization that this little black 'something' was the mouse! A second realization set in: she's not scampering away. Had she built so much trust in me that she no longer felt the need to run?

I took a step forward, crouched down and extended my hand to her, all the while expecting her to flit away. No matter how close I came to her, she sat absolutely still. Reaching my hand to touch her, I became concerned that there must be something wrong with her if she's allowing me to get this close without any reaction. I gently picked her up from the floor and cradled her in the palm of my hand.

With awe and concern, I realized this little mouse must have spent days watching me for signs of safety before attempting to bury herself in the comfort of my blanket. In wonder, I realized why this mouse couldn't be tempted by traps or peanut butter. She had found an even more alluring mecca - a warm, safe blanket in which to curl up and sleep! Piecing together what must have happened, my blanket-toss apparently catapulted the little mouse from her cozy nest. She must have returned last night after I was asleep to snuggle in under the warm blanket.

Here she is, nestled safely in my hand. Discovering blood on her nose, I observe quivering in her belly as though she can not breathe. In sadness, I wonder if my rolling over or my daughter's playfulness may have squashed the tiny body of this frail mouse. I watch as she labours to breathe and half-closes her eyes to me.

I line a small basket with pieces of Kleenex and place my little black friend between the soft tissues, then place the basket on the porch outside. She is clearly in shock, so I put her in a safe place to recover and do what nature intends her to do.

If she will live, will she have the courage to venture into our (or any other) home again? If she dies, she'll be returning herself back to the earth, back to the Universal Oneness. Either way, her life and/or death will continue on as it should in the natural order of things.

Showered and ready to leave the house, I check in with my little visitor one last time. I cautiously lift the top tissue from the basket. Blood patches adorn the bedding, but the mouse is not there. Her disappearance leaves me with the realization that we have touched each other's lives; the mouse with trust in me, and me with compassion for her.

A tale of awakening in several ways.

balance in the pack

Wolves always hunt in packs, never one at a time.

Together they are stronger, each bringing it's strength and weakness to bring balance and harmony to the group for a successful hunt.

So it should be in marriage and families. Each person brings his/her strength and willingness to cover other member's weaknesses when they can't for themselves.

independence

You may formally declare your independence through some outward show of defiance or self-reliance, but know this: nothing exists outside of relationship.

Though we travel to the heart of a desert and there pitch our tent, we may succeed in being isolated yet we will fail to be unrelated.

A relationship will exist between us and the land, between us and the lizards, cacti, coyotes and sand. Moreover, all those we fled will come along with us in our head.

Independence is a state of mind, not a place of residence; is a genuine feeling, not a posture. Nothing exists in isolation: Interdependence is in the nature of things.

To understand this - to see that an affinity between individual grains of sand constitutes the vast Sahara - paradoxically, is to experience true liberty.

~ author unknown

belonging

I sit with friends, realizing that our relationship has somehow grown from "new acquaintances" to a stronger, deeper (and unexpected) bond.

Meeting once a week, we share intimately. This is a place like no other I've found; a place to share openly and honestly in a group and be accepted without judgement.

Still, it has been a challenge for me to fully open and trust my innermost precious spirit and soul. Slowly I've shared more tidbits about myself, checking out the ongoing emotional safety level. I've made conscious choices each step of the way to continue to be open, even in the face of fear.

Yet, through those conscious choices I've still remained on the fringe, never really feeling fully immersed in this group. Never fully willing or able to take the risk of allowing them into my heart completely.

This week I am graciously entrusted with a key to our meeting place. It is my responsibility to arrive early and prepare the room for our gathering. I arrive; the building is dark, not a soul around. Ah, I enjoy the silence.

Turning on lights, moving chairs around, preparing refreshments... each task is completed with care and conscious attention. I am thankful for the trust that has been given me. I enjoy creating a space of comfort for others who come to share in this group.

Our meeting begins. I listen to others share and my soul is nurtured. Listening and hearing with open ears and no judgement brings a feeling of warmth and softness. It is a relief to allow my own thoughts to drift away, allowing me to truly listen and hear. I do not judge the words, I do not daydream, I do not plan in my mind what I will be talking about when my turn arises. I simply listen, taking in every word and thought of the others with respect and consideration.

I am one of the last to speak, and as words flow from my mouth I become aware that I am now feeling a deeper sense of camaraderie with the group than ever before. I am amazed to find myself in a place of trusting, and I real-eyes the connection - it is mutual trust that has grown between us. As I have been learning to trust others with my innermost thoughts, so they are learning to trust me as well.

As I gave of myself in service to this group, so they are giving of themselves to me and each other as well. A community of growing, bonding friendships.

I am so very thankful.

reaching deep within

A crossroads. A turning point. A time of fruition and change. Growth.

Feels like a bumpy ride, and the carpet gets yanked under my feet now and again. Not enough to topple me, but just enough to remind me to remain aware in each moment.

A time of uncertainty and unknown future, yet of faith and trust. A time to challenge myself to reach deep within to the source of strength and courage I usually don't realize I have.

Tempting to want to ask where I'm going, and when I'll be getting there.

Instead, I wait and trust.

non-doing

It's been one of those days. Someone peed in the community corn flakes this morning.

I stop what I'm doing and go for a walk in the sunshine. Nothing like breathing in a little ocean air to clear the mind, body and spirit. Like pressing the "reset" button.

Today I am challenged to act instead of react. It is a time of self-reflection as I observe like an outsider an upsurge of emotions within me. Triggered by a strangely familiar event in my life, the upsurge is strong and my emotions take me back to a place of absolute fear. I have reacted in the past with panic and compulsive DO-ing.

Today I am different.

I am the observer, watching my Self, appreciating the choice of whether to act upon these feelings or not. I choose to acknowledge the feelings, honour their existence as a potential internal 'warning system', and allow myself to be free of compulsive action because of them.

There is no need for frantic movement - physically, mentally, spiritually or otherwise in this situation. I stop, look around, and decide to not DO anything. Just BE. Simply. Quietly. Find wisdom in the stillness.

Answers come.

flower and two drawings

More re-discovered introspection from the past. An old blog entry of mine, written May 2005...

I became ill quite suddenly. Stumbling to the sofa, I lay in a half-sleep with a blanket over my head. After awhile, I rose to make dinner for my daughter. The pain hit in waves. Bent over, I made it as far as getting a bowl of crackers and some yogurt for my child, but just could not drive myself to go further. Down the hallway, collapsing into bed, retching from the pain.

"Mama, can we go to the park?"

In a strained whisper through the pain, "I'm sorry honey, Mom's not feeling well today."

A disappointed toddler's cries and tears. Running to her room, slamming the door.

I lie in my bed, desperate for time to pass till her Dad would be home. I'm aware of my incapacity to care for her at the moment, and my helplessness to get up to use the phone to call for help. I fall into a half-consciousness, my closeness to throwing up the only thing keeping me from falling into sleep.

I'm startled by her standing in front of me again. How much time had passed? "Mama, I drew you two pictures and brought you a flower! Does that make you feel better?" She carefully arranges them on the bed around me. My eyes open just enough to see her worried face smiling down at me with the pure love and concern of a three-year-old.

What an angel to touch my heart so. I can only offer her whispers of thanks and a hug from my bed as my soul is nurtured through the relentless pain.

Her gift is pure - she is a healer, a beautiful loving being. My daughter.

silence

As long as I'm talking, I cannot hear messages in the silence.

Less talk begins with silence of the mind. Silence of the mind is a choice.

"Monkey mind" is habit. I observe my internal chatter, as if from an outsider's point of view. I am exhausted just from watching.

I invite the silence in. Quiet the mind, allowing thoughts to float away like clouds in a gentle breeze. Become still within.

And then...

Listen.

Simply listen to the Universal Silence, and hear - not with ears, but with soul.

Simply... listen.

walkabout

My yearning is strong - Free Spirit that I am - to wander, to allow, to enjoy each moment in a state of simply BE-ing.

To live in respect and reverence for all of Creation, to let the river flow as it will, to offer myself to be of service in the spirit of the universal oneness.

To walk with grace and gentleness upon the earth so that it may be a better place because of me.

To ask how I can help, instead of how you can help me.

To think and stretch and reach outside the box - to open myself to possibilities I've never imagined.

Most of all, to be thankful.

it's raining, it's pouring

An old blog, long since abandoned, holds great wisdom as I revisit entries from long ago...

April, 2005

As I sit listening to pitter-patter droplets on my windows, visitors from another part of the country arrive complaining about the rain. Their vacation is dampened, if you'll pardon the pun.

I, on the other hand, am overjoyed with the downpour. I hope for many more hours, even days of it. We live in a rainforest, yet this season there has been little rain and we are dangerously close to draught conditions. What's normally green is brown, and the trees are so very thirsty.

Through this comparison of how we see the rain, I was reminded that rain itself isn't good nor bad... it just IS. How we see it or feel about it is entirely our choice.

My daughter wanted to go 'take a bath in the rain' today, so I put on her shoes and off she went, joyfully jumping in puddles and holding her hands up to catch the droplets with wonder.

The 'programmed' mommy in me automatically wants to warn her, "Don't go out in the rain, you'll catch your death of cold." I promptly slap that programmed mommy off my shoulder with a good solid whack.

Instead, I watch my little girl playing and enjoying being in the downpour in her beautiful innocence. She is savouring the moment, enjoying and living truly in the moment, taking whatever comes and embracing it with vibrant passion.

I take in what this amazing little girl is teaching me, and am thankful for the lessons that she teaches me.

I am fortunate.

freedom of BE-ing

Drama doesn't excite me anymore.

Used to be I'd live for the thrill of drama in my life. Much younger and more resilient then, I reveled in the intensity of crisis, bathed in the scent of drama, enveloped myself in the passion of what I thought was "really living".

Bleh. Life's too short.

A bit older, a bit more jaded. A lot less inclined to waste energy on pointless struggles. A whole lot more willing to enjoy and appreciate the bigger picture, going with the flow of the Universe.

"What makes a river so restful to people is that it doesn't have any doubt - it is sure to get where it is going, and it doesn't want to go anywhere else." ~ Hal Boyle

Life is like the river... it flows where it will at it's own natural pace, not fighting, never hesitating. Flowing over obstacles with resolve where needed but always fluid and easy, in perfect motion.

We are like the river... surrendering into the sweetness and joy of BE-ing free of conflict, free of illusion, free of distraction. Simply BE-ing, naturally.

"Do not push the river." ~ Lao Tzu

do you want to be right?

I witness a shouting match in the hallway. Two control freaks battling for superiority - a man and a woman. Their dance of bravado escalates quickly and I'm amused by their approach to disagreement. Both are convinced they're RIGHT.

I am reminded of a dear friend's words to me long ago... "Do you want to be right, or do you want to be happy?" Where is the pleasure in being right at all costs? Where is the comfort in living a driven, insecure life of feeling like we have to prove to everyone - including ourselves - that we are worthwhile?

I ask myself how important is it in the big picture?

Is a pissing match really worth the drama and lost sleep?

Submerging oneself in bitterness is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die.

walls of illusion...

Funny thing about building walls around your Self...

You build them around your heart to keep the pain out, but in reality all they do is keep the pain in.

Walls of illusion.

Are we any less vulnerable to hurt just because we pretend that we are invulnerable?

True strength comes in living a life of honesty with ourselves, and willingness to take the risk of living openly. No need for those walls of illusion.

 
"People are lonely because they build walls instead of bridges."
~ Joseph F. Newton

wild wolf woman

She is strong. She is fearless. She knows how powerful she is, and is gentle in her use of it. She honors the land and her own heart. She is Mother, she is Teacher, she is Medicine Woman. She is fiercely protective of her pack, and honours each one with grace and dignity.

She sees the world as beautiful and unique. Her eyes glow with endless curiosity for growth and new beginnings. The air shimmers around her as she participates fully in the dance of life.

She intuitively Knows what needs to be done and does it. Her simple freedom and ease in life inspire others. By example, she teaches the wonder of Be-ing in the moment.

She is Wolf Woman.