because he couldn’t get close to the other

penguins and huddle with them for warmth.

They had a rule, a custom, you see, that any

citizen of their community must call out

if they wanted inclusion.

His voice didn’t work, so he couldn’t call out,

couldn’t announce himself and declare his coldness.

He beat his flippers and stomped his feet, and all

that came out of his mouth was steam.

A human came to his aid, implanted a small reed

into his throat, and now, not only is this

penguin included, he’s famous!

Those other penguins shouldn’t take

their chattering beaks for granted.

YEAR OF THE DRAGON

 I was a Dragon baby in ’64, but

I didn’t get the good one. My birth was not heralded by

the magnificent, regal, fierce fellow, that magical beast

said to bring good luck and an easy life.

I got the other one–the runt of the litter.

A sad, pitiful creature: skin and bones, his scales are dull,

his eyes are watery and he coughs like a smoker.

His brother– the famous beloved one,

should have eaten him ages ago–

it would have been the kindest thing to do.

This one doesn’t fly or breathe fire.

He doesn’t even look good in red.

The poor fellow isn’t celebrated, hardly noticed really.

What shall we make of this shadow-of a- dragon life?

Say, did you hear about that Penguin with the prosthetic voice?

It isn’t just the end of another year. Those of us who are living through this, are witnesses to a very special time in human history and evolution.

I know you feel it too. The unrest. The intense dreams. The changes in your sleep, diet, consciousness.

Right?

There is instability ahead, and chaos, and heartbreak. But everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve survived until now —has prepared us for this transition. Wake up!

Wake up!

I’ll never write again, I said.

And then, in the gaping space where

the lexicon had lived like a city,

weather came, forces of a subtler velocity

shaping the space, excavating then seeding.

And now the new land is being populated

by simple creatures.

Beautiful, wild, skittish cubs.

I love them.

I resist the urge to chase them.

We can all live here together.

This reminded me of of a point Robert Scheinfeld made in his book “Busting Loose From the Money Game.”

He explains that if money were taken out of the equation in the exchange of goods and services, what remains is gratitude for receiving a good or service.  If you’re not actually  bartering, paying, or exchanging any thing, you would still express appreciation for whatever you have received. Right?

I’m trying to be aware that when I write a check, charge a purchase, or hand over cash for something, that I’m not spending, wasting, giving away, or losing anything. The act of ‘paying’ money is in fact how we receive something we want or need. It is the symbolic way of saying ‘thank you’. Thank you, Pacific Power & Electric, for illuminating my home and keeping it warm. Thank you Chase, for loaning me funds for vacations, dinners, and other things. Thank you Comcast, for the entertaining and education programming you provide.

Perspective is everything. Spending money is receiving.

Receiving is providence.

Currency is Love.

At the time, he couldn’t know how that knife would the instrument o f his liberation. But at the time, he had an idea about how he could extricate himself with the knife by chipping the stone. Then he had an idea about using a pulley. Then got an idea about how to stay hydrated without fresh water. All these things were tiny victories throughout his ordeal.

What am I pinning my hopes on? What is my salvation? Is there a tool within my reach that will eventually set me free, but in a way I cannot, or dare not imagine?

He realized at one point that his whole life had been pulling him toward this rock, and that this rock had emerged in all of creation, placed on a trajectory  moving towards this meeting as well. This was Ralston’s destiny. This was the boulder’s destiny. He understood that he had arrived at this place from choices he had made. He never blamed anyone. He got there by himself, and was determined to get out under his own steam.

In the end, he wasn’t freed from the rock. He had never been pinned by the rock. His arm was pinned. He wasn’t. He chose to leave that part of him behind. His arm wasn’t him, and wasn’t necessary in his moving forward.

Ralston’s story compels me to wonder what do I need to leave behind? Is there a part of me that is more detrimental to me as long as it’s attached, than it is useful?  Cutting this thing away is never easy or painless, but it is always an option. Ralston’s willingness to experience pain is what ultimately released him.

No matter how things appear, there is a way out.

The widespread presumption is that life on earth, as we know it will end on December 21^st, 2012. This belief is based upon the fact that the Mayan calendar ends on that date. This of course, is a gross summary of the predictions made by the Mayans.

Aside from the hysteria accompanying folklore and predictions of end times made throughout the ages, there are geological data and theories that suggest the earth is due for major cataclysm, a natural and periodic occurrence.  So with the Winter Solstice deadline of 2012,  were bracing for the inevitable.

Numerologically, 2012 will be a 5 year. Add 2+0+1+2, and the sum is 5, which is the number concerned with expansion and movement. There is inherent instability with 5 because of its velocity and tendency to change direction. When 5 energy is moving through something, sudden and unexpected events occur.

Go ahead, let your imagination run wild for a minute. Now, 5 isn’t an energy necessarily governing endings, but with the amount of chaos about to ensue, some things will be left in the wake.  My feeling is that 2012 will be a period of unprecedented instability and chaos that will propel our planet and its inhabitants through a transformation that will, culminate closer to 2016, which will be a 9 universal year.

The number 9 isn’t an absolute  indicator of death or extinction, the end of the line per se. If this were the case, then everyone would be born in a 1 personal year, and would die in a 9 personal year. We know this doesn’t happen. In fact, death and birth happen within each of the energies represented by numbers 1 through 9.

But 9  is a vibration concerned with endings, release, and its trajectory is a vortex which moves its subject  toward oblivion. It is the number of self-negation. The words nine, nein, and none are related. So preparing for a major earth change in 2016 is prudent. And this could mean a couple of things Extinction  – the obliteration of our planet, or Ascension  – the spiritual awakening of humanity. Or both.

What is happening, I believe, is a ramping up toward a huge leap forward in the evolution of our species, and perhaps others as well. Transformation is believed to be a single event, but we know it’s a process that occurs over time. Ascension – the same thing. We are ascending right now, gradually. In 2012, we’ll notice acceleration in these processes, and it will be exciting and terrifying. So how do we prepare?

This coming year, 2011 is a 4 year, which means that the energy of stabilization and order prevails. This is the time to prepare, to organize, to ground, to see to every detail of our mission as stewards of this planet. We aren’t preparing for 2012, we’re preparing for the years after.

2011 wil be a year during which we bring our expectations and goals “down to earth” so to speak, paring down extravant habits in spending, eating, and living. Getting to the heart of things, taking care of our bodies, our planet, concerning ourselves with home and family, the building blocks of our civilzation. This is a year of moving away from isolating, ego-centric interests and reconnecting with our “tribe,” our family.

This is also a time of detoxifying our bodies, attending to our health, so that we have a fighting chance amidst the coming changes.

Stay tuned for more thoughts on 2012.

Griz

Her mission is to stay alive – as she sees it. It’s to care for her young, stay sheltered and warm, have a steady supply of food and water, and do all of these activities without being detected by a larger, hungry creature.

Simple.

Now, you and I – and the cat and the hawk and the owl –clearly understand what the purpose of this mouse is, which is to be eaten. From its birth in the midden to its death between gnashing teeth, its path has been meandering ever closer into the clutches of a predator.

Everything that mouse has learned about survival, and its instincts besides, can’t keep it from fulfilling its purpose, which is to be eaten. The mouse has an idea about what its life is about, but the hawk is certain of why that mouse had been born.

Is the god we look for – that inscrutable being that we attempt to please, invoke, and understand, it is a thing that hunts each of us, that we cannot hide from, outrun, outsmart, outlast? If it is my purpose, ultimately, to be consumed by this hungry force, it seems grandiose and narcissistic to imagine myself as special, unique, or having any kind of mission other than burning out the life force in this body.

Self-preservation has become perverted in humans to mean “ego-preservation, the story of me-preservation.”

What a waste of evolutionary intelligence.

For instance, the issue of faith. I tell people all the time that the universe will support them in their endeavors. They just have to step off the edge and see what happens. The universe is a friendly place, and why wouldn’t things turn out ok?  Stop living in fear, and follow your heart.

Sounds good, right?

I have no intention of stepping off that ledge. Do I look stupid? There are no guarantees. There are better, purer, more deserving souls on this planet who will never catch a break.  So I will not be tempting fate, not with my shitty karma.

Here is my dilemma. And truly,  it’s only a dilemma if I entertain the possibility of actually choosing one option over the other, and I’ve made my decision, but the thing is, I hate my job, and should have quit two years ago.

I have no respect for my bosses, and my workplace is a source of tremendous and overwhelming stress, frustration, rage, and fear.

All indications – making mistakes at work, adrenal burnout, nausea, contempt and that scoured-out empty feeling one gets when one’s soul has been filleted from their being–all are signs that I need to vacate the premises.

But I’ve stayed and put up with being treated poorly, having my modest raise taken away, enduring insults and condescending remarks, having to work under impossible scrutiny, and wondering if I’m going to be fired.

I’ve realized this year that the fewer things I have, the fewer things I have to worry about losing, this includes my job. But this is a hard economy, I don’t have a college degree, I’m 40 something, and have lots of debt. Without a solid backup plan, it would be imprudent to just walk away from a job that at least pays my bills.

As a pilgrim whose job and mission it is to test the friendliness and resources of the so-called Source, I just can’t bring myself to follow through on this assignment. I understand, wholly, that this is the point of my arriving at this juncture. But I’m so fearful that if I follow my heart and just depart from this situation I would be left dangling – jobless, penniless, and would lose my home, belongings –everything.

I know what I’m supposed to do.  I just  don’t believe that I’ll be ok.

-grizelda

…now when I think of all the red inside me,

I understand that I don’t bleed; I burn.”

–Cindy St. Onge – “Poems From the Grotto”

I participated in my fourth Inipi cermony yesterday. The number 4 is important in Lakota ritual, and my life path number happens to be a 4.  I should have been prepared for something auspicious.

I hadn’t drunk enough water during the day. That probably partially accounted for how miserable I was into the second round. But as that round got underway, I thought to myself, “this is never as bad as people say it is. what is the big deal? I’m fine. I can handle this. It’s a piece of cake.”

I could hear the arrogance in my own thoughts. The Inyan Oyate , or Stone People in the center of the lodge glowed red hot, and I thought about their suffering, their sacrifice. I was humbled.

This isn’t about how tough I am,  I thought, or about how much pain I can endure for the sake of endurance. It’s about being vulnerable and open and flawed and ultimately purified. I thought that if creatures as sturdy as stones could suffer the sacrificial fire for the sake of my transformation, the least I could do was admit that I was uncomfortable.

And that was all it took. By the middle of the second round, I was nauseous, light-headed, and felt like I would pass out. How hot it was in the lodge wasn’t even an issue by this time. I was at my limit. I was on the verge of asking that the door be open so I could leave.  But this is the purpose of the Inipi ceremony, to inhabit these borders, to push beyond what the body can endure, and to challenge what your mind has always defined as possible and impossible.

When I closed my eyes to try to think of something besides how dizzy I felt, I wanted to go to sleep, but I was afraid I wouldn’t wake up. So I struggled against the heat, and wanting to throw up, and almost losing consciousness. This is where and  how the heat and the prayer transforms the pilgrim. The lodge was pitch black, but I kept looking in the direction of the door, a way out I couldn’t see, but knew was there.

The second round was mercifully divided into two mini-rounds because the heat was excruciating. After I had cooled down some, I realized that I had only experienced external discomfort in previous sweat lodges. This was the first time I had felt that misery on the inside, viscerally.

There were still two more rounds to go, each hotter than the last. At some point during the third round, which I’ve always called the  Skin Searing Round, ancestor spirits present in the lodge were sucking me into Lakota folklore as I envisioned the Great Mystery and Tunkasila playing tether ball with the planets.

This was the spiritual ass-kicking I had always believed the Inipi ceremony to be, but had never experienced until last night.

I am humbled and grateful.

Mitakue Oyasin