Spirit Dancer Blessing
In a private communication one of our noetic friends commented how my writing brought a magical ambience even when discussing the mundane. Yup, I mean it that way. There's a reason for that, and although I take it as a smiling compliment I also must acknowledge the intentionality involved. In my long-term worldview (as differentiated from temp worldviews that serve as learning tools, communications media, or simply a hat I wish to try on) magic is most present in the mundane/material realm, albiet in a density and concentration level that makes it all but invisible. In writing, for many years, about Spirit, noetics, and woo-woo stuff, I have come to a familiarity with the connection between spelling and spelling. Mind-at Large can be effectively brought into personal experience through a trust between the writer and the reader. As Ursula Le Guinn said - reading is a collaberation between the writer and the reader, and this collaberation is of the personal mind reaching through and back within Mind as the panpsychism folks see it. (author raises hand to denote inclusion in said grouping ;-) )
Yesterday was my day off from the cashier gig at the local natural foods supermarket. Through some of the work of HeartMath I have become increasingly aware of how exposed I am in my job to the jangling, stress-ridden, hurried and harried, em fields from the hundreds of hearts that pass within proximity each workday. Sooooo, it is nice to spend a day out here in the wide-opened "isolation" of our mesa prarie mesa home. I think about such things as entrainment and psychic intrusion and go, like, "wow, t'ain't zactly safe out yonder in that marketplace! Boy howdy, I'm lucky to have a beautiful place ta live in, reckon?!".
Long story short - I prepped the driveway and yard for the delivery of a load of "one inch" gravel. Preperation included, by necessity, the digging of about 130 feet of trenchwork to serve as drainage - learnin' I acquired this past winter when the massive thaw of the snow and ice pack commenced. Heavy pick, old knowledge of the earth from my tropical landscaping days of yore, and some Core Dynamics training that allowed me to express vocally as a tool in transmuting stuck energy into sweat and progress. Add to that a yearnin' to transcend the accepted aging pattern of this 53 year-old corporeal unit.
Soon after I began to dig I heard a tremendous sound, and looked up to see little clusters of nasty tumbleweed airbourne is an invisible gyre. This is what is called a dust devil, but what Medicine Turtle told me that her people call a Spirit Dancer. So I dropped the pick and ran out into the sage field behind the house. The Dancer had passed over our fenced-in yard and was headed west. I managed to catch up and entered the gyre with all senses and meta-fields in full force. As I stepped into the Dancer it ceased to move. It simply stopped and spun away around me. Bit of a chill from the cold wind and the dripping sweat but the blessing I was recieving honored me beyond any discomfort. The gyre held on my position for some 30 seconds, then moved on.
Several time, while I dug, Raven came over to check me out. Another blessing. The third blessing came this morning: rain. There has been no rain for weeks.
Part of my goal for the day of digging work was to lay the foundation for a faerie garden, outside the dining room window and down the slope a piece. As I worked I came to feel how the confluence of human attention and Nature's fields of ecological presence brings a merging that is ripe with magic. A good thing to remember, it is. The orioles were the first to discover the new feeder I put to mark the center of the new garden. Later on the scaled quail fledglings showed up. And - we came to witness how it is the poppa house finch that teaches the fledgling how to use the feeder. I've seen that poppa finch lecturing Rosie the cat. He's one bird I admire greatly!
~ Ken
