Self-Existing Owl Moon :: Grandmother’s Message

Sunrise over the Malahat Inlet, just north of Victoria on Vancouver Island, British Columbia.  And my heart and soul is struck by this all enveloping expression of the self existence of NATURE!  This sky’s capacities for cocreating colours beyond my feeble descriptions holds my being in a state of awe and of reverence!


Coral stretches from the sunrise emergence to my right while neon pink arrives within this.  These solveggios blend into the robins egg blue of vast sky awaiting for its fullest arrival.  All the while to my left, the last sparkling pierce of a morning star reminds my consciousness of what has slowly ended.  Incoming day brings with it the farewell of the night.  Just for this day.


The Inlet’s sea salted waters coagulate into a perfected mirror of these sky expressions.  A dawn dancer’s costumes reflected with total acceptance.  Barely a ripple arrives at the surface of this display.  This lady of the oceans seamlessly partakes of the dawn’s offerings: what a sacred communion!


Now, twenty minutes in manmade time has passed, and yet the dance continues without a chime, a bell to sound something is over!  The lights now fill the horizon across the skies with dark green mountain tops arising in the distance.  Known also to the clouds, streakish grey, these ancient ones protrude from some inexhorable creator known as HER, Great Mother Earth!


An ending of some form called night began so long ago and is now proceeding to its inevitable completion.  With tall standing cedars as witness, I stand with no thought no desire no need to be anywhere with anyone other than here.Sitka spruce, the graceful waving arms of arbutus, more standing ones rough barked and deeply clawed roots into the ancient bedrock, these ones absorb such weather daily phenomenon mutually created in order to coexist.


The shores of these millions of years old waters welcome without need for respite, the newly revelatory rays of sunlight, a repetition of such profound rituals, that my breathe stops to remain in stillness just a while longer.


Ahhh sporadic ripples now arrive at surfaces of these inland Salish Seas announcing some delight in patternmaking.  For my eyes and experiences, it reminds me of thin thin ice floating in the early November days on Batchawana Bay , North Ontario.  What life forms dwell beneath those patterns there and here?  Or within the dark evergreening forests enthralled with nothing but pure existence?


Two weeks of Travelling with the Bundle of Sacred Wheels in Seattle, Washington, and my being returns once more to uninhabited aspects of the wilderness of soul grateful for both the going and the coming back.


There, like some form of tall yellow cedar, I witnessed humans forgetful of this cocreationary force, diving into the Grief Wheel, confused, scared, despairing that no one is caring about such beauty, and angry even raging that we each have forgotten from when we came.


Listening deeply like some ancient rock being, humans struggled with the passage of their times on earth, one Rite of Passage denied and yet another fearlessly awaited surrender.


Inquiries continued; Who am I now? If this is truly over, what is emerging? How will I continue without the infrastructure of my story?  Is emergence from this darknight possible though the light is already guiding my being to another horizon?  AND thus, what will this next moment reveal that I can accept?


We are, my beloveds, on this collective Wheel of Grief, at the sunrise of a new day and way and the calling is very real!  In our bones, a narrative writ long ago genomically, is saying: There is another time line to write together, not alone!  Until we choose to commit to this conscientously, we suffer and create more suffering for others and ignore the relevant beauty of the wild! 


And I return celebrating that I have met those who are rising, riding along the great rivers shores, or surfing in the waves of oceans, or drumming up the sides of mountains, those who are authoring a contiinuum of epic poetry that awakens all of humanity to its fuller potentiata!


We are at choice points individually, within families, within our global clans, to say that day has come, the light revealing what needs truly to be done, and the grief of progressive wavelengths is dissipating  The air is fresh here at the Malahat, the inner fires stoked by such inexhorable incredible phenomenal life forms bearing witness to my own awakening, the waters have found their way to the shores extending from beneath my feet, the earth strikes the deepest accords with a rhythm so universal that she cannot be ignored!


On this full mooning in November, we invite you to be within our boundariless loving embrace and shift seasonally into preparation for the winter nights.  We invite the gathering of lessons, realizations, articulations to be shared with those still choosing scarcity or plight!  Awaken these with generosity of warm pancakes and an egg in a cardboard box on a morning street in Seattle WA, knowing that the feeding of one soul feeds the whole of eternity!


JOIN us this season with your writings,musings, offerings, your art and music, the crystal grids that are the earth vases unleashing trauma that needs to breathe and dissolve.


I have walked on Oyster Dome Mountain, sharing the path up and down with two incredibly joyous venturers, Paaush and Uma, without time nor shame nor guilty pushing.  I have celebrated , recalibrated with Danica and shared the nights of memory foamed beds gifted from her Grandmother!  Stunned by the gorgeousness of naked bodies waterfalled in frigid waters, I come home inspired to do the same.  Our evening sojourns on the Wheels, ceremonies of Samhain, the revolutionary moments of one to ones, zikra and the movements of integration, all is now enveloped in the OM of this culture of British Columbia;s supernatural beauty of the wild still preserved, still appreciated, still stood for and by those of us who know!


Without these self existing callings to be strong resilient wise and  wildly in love with risings and fallings away, we are mere robotons willed by some nonorganic form dictated to by those who all have forgotten.


Exist, my beloveds, amongst us here in the refreshing waters, home to the ones who went before, finned ones, salmon moving upstream, black bear beginning to prepare for hibernation, cougar moving deeper into forests, deciduous leaves now fallen like old beliefs that do not serve this seasonal and paradigm shift!


Come home to those inwards places you have forgotten and just exist as being!  Welcome welcome welcome you have never been forgotten or unseen!


For all of our relations

One Reply to “Self-Existing Owl Moon :: Grandmother’s Message”

  1. Such clear communing & communicating with beauty, presence and love. Appreciating you from Ontario dear friend. Everywhere, in its own particular way, nature is inviting us to see her in this way. With love and praise.

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