Wednesday, November 30, 2016

Healing the generations ...

A story  ...

Her little daughter stumbled and wobbled when she was overly tired or hungry. She was wobbly and clingy and kept falling against her mother's legs. "Stop it!" her mother would yell after a while. "Stand up on your own two feet!" would usually follow. 

Her mother was angry. Her daughter continued to wobble and stumble and she could not handle it. Whenever she saw her daughter like that, she realized that she became so wrapped up in such anger, that it needed looking at. And one day, she introspected deeply. 

She realized, that her daughter was free. She was free and safe. When she was tired or hungry, she stumbled and wobbled because she felt free and safe to do so. She was able to follow her natural impulse without the need to edit herself. Her mother felt safe enough to her, that she knew she would be caught and held. 

Her mother had never had that. Her world as a child was not safe, not free. She had had to edit herself countless times and harm would come to her regardless. It was in this moment of introspection that she realized she became angry because she was afraid for her daughter. She was afraid when she saw her daughter so free and clingy and trusting because her world had not been safe as a child and the pattern of fear and lack of trust were still woven deeply within her body. Her daughter expected to be caught and hugged and held and loved and allowed herself to be vulnerable, because she felt safe and because she was safe. 

This was a revelation for her mother and she sat with it for a long time, letting it sink in deeply. As these things go, it didn't stop her mother's anger completely, it is a process after all, but it sits in a whole new light for her and every day she reminds herself.

This morning, mother and daughter were preparing to leave the house and her daughter was tired. They were at the door, dressing, and she stumbled and almost fell over while her mother was putting her boots on. "Sorry mama", said her daughter.

Sorry mama.

Sorry mama.

It stunned her mother deeply and as the words sunk in, it made her heart ache profoundly. Her little girl's freedom was gone and she had done something wrong by being herself. It had happened. Through all the repetitions, her daughter had internalized her mothers wound, as a fault of hers. 

Her mother then, spoke her truth.

No my dear, said her mother, you have nothing to be sorry about. Nothing at all. It is me who is sorry. Mama will hold you and catch you and help you whenever you need her. I'm sorry, her mother said. All those times I was angry with you for stumbling and falling, it wasn't you, sweet baby, it was mama. Mama was wrong and mama is here to help and hold you when you need her to and mama will remind you and herself of this always. 

"Okay mama".

Her mother looked at her little miracle, this miracle that is life, that her body had made, this generous and beautiful soul connected but separate from herself and felt a great sorrow for what she had done. It dawned on her yet again that things are reflected all the time. She hugged her daughter really hard, repeated again that she had nothing to be sorry about and prayed to all that is for continued insight and light for all the dark spaces she inherited so that she could continue to be aware and heal, one situation at a time, healing the generations. 

Saturday, August 6, 2016

Well ...

Did I ever tell you the story of when we went to Del Mar and were hiking down a trail at Torrey Pines that lead to the ocean with a little bebek and a stroller and I listened to "reviews" (many!) that said the trail was stroller friendly (I never listen to anything I don't know why I started with this one) and it was a crazy (not stroller friendly... not!) hike down for an hour and there were cliffs and tons of bumps and really steep narrow steps and I mentioned a bebek and stroller right and then the FUN part going BACK UP and the sun came out (I had planned our hike during a cloudy day because the heat and I have a special relationship) and I was red and sweating and barefoot and then stubbed my big toe on a big ass rock and it took off a huge chunk of my toe and I was bleeding in the frikkin' desert (it seemed like a desert!) and I Macgyvered a bleeding toe wrap with a pocket knife and this amazing towel my mother in law got us and I happened to bring and my husband wound up CARRYING A STROLLER AND A TIRED BABY ALL THE WAY BACK UP while I hobbled behind them sweating and marvelling at his strength and then we got back up and went to the lodge and they wouldn't give me any alcohol (the rubbing kind) because they were NOT ALLOWED and I asked them well what if I were bleeding everywhere and they said there would be nothing they could do and I just marvelled at where we have come as humans and then hobbled back out to tell my husband and then he while still looking after bebek FOUND A WILD WHITE SAGE BUSH ( he's like "hey, isn't this a white sage plant" ??!!!!?!!) and I took some leaves and wraped them in my towelaid and my toe healed instantly? It didn't heal instantly but in only a few days. Did I ever tell you that story? No? It was pretty wild. I'm not really used to relying on folks (childhood traumas)  but the Hubs that day.... He was KING. He is KING.

Did I also tell you it was gorgeous and extraordinary and there were wildflowers everywhere and the ocean was breathtaking and the air was life and we had a picnic on the rocks on the ocean and that it feels so good to rely on someone and have them come through beyond words and that the hobble back up watching my husband carry our tired little girl and stroller was one of the most beautiful moments in my life? 

Did I also tell you that?



Sunday, February 7, 2016

The healing will begin ...

We went outside and sang to the trees in our space this morning. They told me the last time we sang to them, a few days ago, how long it had been since they had heard a human voice singing to them and how much they have missed it so we will do it often. It was such an incredible message to receive from them it took me aback and filled me with joy. I have only recently allowed communication from the plant world to come in in this way and it is the most incredible thing ever.

We sang to the pine trees ... to our pear tree who is sick and who we will nurture back to health with all our love and care ... to our apple tree ... We gave big hugs to them and felt their loving energy envelop us. I also felt the loneliness there. This land we are on was made for magic. For children and friends and family and medicine and food and love. We have only recently moved to this place and the land needs much healing. It holds tremendous power but was neglected in a very subtle way for a long time ...

Now, through our love and dedication, we will hold and connect and work and heal everything in this beautiful space that we are so fortunate to have been guided to and provided with.

Now, the healing will begin.

Sunday, November 8, 2015

The container is deeper ...

What a marvelous night. What a marvelous life. What gifts. What blessings.

A crackling fire.
A refrigirator full of organic, home made food, lovingly grown by our local farmers.
Loved ones sleeping soundly, warm and snug, some under big blankets, some in woolly onsies.
A beautiful glass of wine.
A beautifully written book with language that brings the soul to life. 

The wind outside, rustling through the last leaves hanging on. 

They say that in the fall, trees surrender their leaves gracefully for the coming rest and hibernation of winter... but that is not what I see... I see and hear the wind rushing through, howling, I see the wind moving trees side to side rustling the leaves as much as wind can, I see trees whose leaves are hanging on...

What an extrordinary thing it is to bear witness to beauty, to love, to all of life's enormous little moments.

What an extraordinary thing.

There are not enough words of gratitude in language to be able to express the  depth of feeling I have for the opportunity to live this life. To see. To learn. 

To bear witness.

The expansion of consciousness always involves a death of a part of self that in turn, gives birth to an expanded self. A wider, deeper container. That first death is terrifying. There is no precedent. You go in blind, scared, unsure. Then you do the work and come out on the other side. You meet your expanded, beautiful self. The container is deeper. 

Then comes the next death, the next expansion, the next death, the next expansion ... Each one a little less terrifying, a little less fear... a little more trust ... 

Each time the container is expanded...

What a marvel. Blessed be.

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Life to life ...

I have been wanting to write for a very long time. Months. 

The words come in every day, dancing, twirling, bringing images to life, adding meaning to experience. There are so many moments of life, ecstasy, grace and beauty in a day, it overwhelms me with gratitude.

And then I don't. I push them down without wanting to, knowing I shouldn't. I don't write ... Is there something to look at there? A stream of light shining through a cavern asking me to follow? Some old, no longer useful force saying I don't deserve these wonderful moments so by not writing about them, I will forget. Some old, familial energetic tie that needs to be broken... 

Yes, the days are enormously busy with a new house and baby but still ...

You make time. No matter what is going on in your life, you make time. You make time for what is important to you. For what blows life into your soul and fills you with magic. You make time to feed your heart. 

What you water with the power of attention, grows. 

But I haven't been when it comes to writing and whenever that happens there is something to see. Some form of very subtle self-deprivation, a slow anorexia of the soul that happens on a low plane that must be seen, acknowledged and opened. 

So here I am. Back at it. Feeding my soul. Sometimes it may take me a while, but I will always come back. I promise you my sweet soul self. 

In this moment, I am sitting in my kitchen experiencing a moment of grace. I am, as we speak, opening an email from one of our family farmers. He is letting us know that the hay is being gathered, the oats are doing tremendously well. That the pigs are rooting in the woods and the cows ans sheep are grazing happily. 

And, that the chickens are finally laying eggs after a long period of not having any. 

This, dear readers, in my experience of this life, is pure joy. This is the greatest connection to life as a human animal in this world. Life to life.

Many blessings to you all my babies. 

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Where the Universe is ...

Magic this evening.

Your little hand on my breast, over my heart while you contentedly feed, half asleep. My hand covering your little one, ever so gingerly as to not disturb your sleepy suckle.

I silently, adoringly, gratefully, gaze at you. All that you are.

In that little space, in between your hand and mine, so small it is almost imperceptible, is all of creation. 

That tiny space, between our touching hands, is where the universe is.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

Photo by my darling beautiful Claudia Ferri in Idyllwild ✨

Monday, February 2, 2015

Ignite the soul ...

Here we are darlings. Mid way. Today The Wheel brings us midway between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox.

It is a beautiful, blessed day.

Imbolc means - In the belly -. 

In the belly of the Sacred Mother, the Sacred Goddess, the Womb of Mother Earth, underneath the cover of snow and ice, things are stirring. Seeds that have been dormant all winter, in the dark under the ground and snow, shedding the year, resting and preparing for rebirth, are just beneath the surface ready to burst through in a few weeks time. Imbolc is a time of quickening and new growth though nothing is yet visible. It does not bring with it dramatic change from the death of Winter; trees do not burst into blossom overnight, leaves do not immediately sprout from the branches, plants and flowers do not instantly carpet the earth. This is a very mysterious time. Growth is gradual and seeds lie hidden in the earth, slowly pushing the first shoots up through the soil and yet still, all appears lifeless.

"In nature, we are quietly offered countless models of how to give ourselves over to what appears dark and hopeless, but which ultimately is an awakening beyond our imagining. All around us, everything small and buried surrenders to a process that none of the buried parts can see. We call this process seeding and this innate surrender allows everything edible and fragrant to break ground into a life of light that we call spring.
As a seed buried in earth can’t imagine itself as an orchid or hyacinth, neither can a heart packed with hurt or a mind filmed over with despair imagine itself loved or at peace. The courage of the seed is that, once cracking, it cracks all the way. To move through the dark into blossom is the work of the soul." 

- Mark Nepo

Happy Imbolc my beautiful angels.

Make this and drink it tonight, with someone you love (even if that is you on your own) and thank all that is. Life is magic and we are blessed to be here. Kindle the fire. Ignite the soul. Make it so.

Crystal blessings, Oana

 With Kim at The Algonquin Tea Company ... Her place is magic, and so is she.

Kindle the fire ...

What you need:

  • 1 1/2 cups pastured milk
  • 1 tsp. raw honey
  • 1/2 tsp. vanilla bean seeds or really good extract
  • cinnamon
What to do:

Warm milk but do not boil it. Add your honey and vanilla. Mix together and pour into a beautiful mug and then sprinkle with cinnamon. Now, iiiiifff you wanted to add some cognac, or really good dark rum, I would not object.
Enjoy babies.