Notes from January

We gathered on my living room floor near the flickering stove to start our group meditation. The orange tabby loitered in front of me. The small dog jumped in her round bed, 2 feet away. 

“So, tell me what brings you here to meditate? “

The cat started to chase a bug. The dog stared at me. 

“Let me introduce myself, I have a master’s degree in Chinese medicine….”

Words don’t matter to cat and dog. Animals get the energy and they flop down looking ready to go deep. 

I was talking to someone about cats the other day, and he said, “cat’s are mystical. It’s like they have a secret, and it’s with someone else.”

January is wrapping up and I need to practice for my new meditation workshop in March!


A few weeks ago, I went outward. I went for a brisk cold walk as it started to get light. 

“Hello!” “Hi!” “Good morning!” happened between a bunch of people and me. This was kind of great. How can nearly every stranger smile at me?

The light streamed through the fog. My lungs woke up, body woke up. I moved faster and lighter. I lightened the load. I was awake! 

The bareness of winter opens views normally covered in other months.

Nests look exalted in brush 

Then a stranger appeared on the trail holding a basket with parchment colored scrolls wrapped with red ribbons. “Can I give you a New Year’s card?”  Yes and thank you. It was titled A Wish to You and it was quite sweet. He looked down the trail and bounded off to greet more walkers.

This was all about 15 minutes into the walk and I’d been given the equivalent of 100 tablets of Zoloft, or whatever people use for mood boosters. 

I needed this as I recently learned that George the 14-year-old tree snail had died this month, the last of his kind in Hawaii. Hawaiian legend was that their singing voices filled the forest. I’d love to hear a snail sing. 

I read that with waxing light, “incoming energies are quickening everything. Outer light is increasing and infusing, but the stretch to accommodate it within must be deliberate on our parts, so we can actively evolve toward human luminous.” -Susa Silvermarie

I’ve been thinking about what it means to be luminous. 

This month I also had poetry brunch with Carol and Ilene.  Carol declared she was having 2 people over a month for tea, starting this month. This was in response to hearing that Americans entertain at home 50% less than we used to. Carol decided this was not right. 

January Tips:
Look for beaver lodges, bird nests, and squirrel dreys.
Go inward and outward.
Greet strangers cheerfully.
Gather in peace with your people or animals.
Nature is lit up even on dark days.
Invite people to your dwelling for a visit.
Read a book or two. 
Sing like a snail. 

Random:
A tree squirrel nest is called a “drey.”
A good band name is “Hoary Marmots Wrestling.”

What are your January tips? What is your band name?

 

 

3 comments

  1. I engage completely with your January collage – winter does open up the landscape and gives us the opportunity to sit with beloved, meditating animals by a fire. And, yes, invite others into our homes and lives! So much light enters as I read your post🙏🏻

    1. Thank you, Susan! I love that you engaged with this blog! I know you are in touch with the woods and river and animals, and ritual too. You are a wonderful role model.

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