A line from the cave…

Posted in Compassion, Healing, Inspirational, Media, Spirituality on November 16, 2015 by Standing West

As some may have noticed, I haven’t been posting a whole lot lately. To be honest, it hasn’t really dawned on me that I’ve had anything worthwhile to say. Not because I’m down on myself or don’t value my own opinion; those of you who know me personally know that I happen to value my own opinion a great deal and generally don’t mind sharing when the opportunity arises.

Lately however, things have been moving along at an increasingly intense clip. Since my job folded some six months ago I’ve been focused primarily on the workings of my own household: spending time with my wife, developing my healing practice, fostering my students, playing in the dirt…

Paring down financially and socially has really begun to help me see what’s important in my life. And this has led to an almost complete unplugging from mass media and all that goes along with it. Yes, I’m aware of the situation in Paris. I’m also aware, depending on what you choose to read, that aliens walk among us, Monsanto is the devil, chemtrails are dumbing us down, and that the Georgia Guide Stones spell out the directives by which some uber-secret organization plans to almost completely depopulate the world and control the survivors.

Oh, and then there’s the Masons…

At any rate, my official awakening some years back was something very akin to that of Neo in the matrix. (”They had good noodles…”) The main difference being, however, that while Neo went on to fight the system, I, like many I’ve seen, chose instead to bitch about it under the guise of “waking people up”. This has led me on a deeply introspective journey. And it has also shown me that one can either wage some type of war against the things one hates, or one can serve the greater good by promoting the things one loves.

And therein lies the tricky part.

As a teacher of mine once put it, “every time you make a purchase your foot is on the throat of someone else.” Wear cotton clothing to protect the environment? Somebody picked it. Buy running shoes? Chances are a child labored in a sweatshop to make them. Use a plastic toothbrush? Petroleum products and their pollution made it possible. The list goes on and on.

So what do we do? How do we continue to exist in the world without bringing pain and suffering to others? How do we wander through the hall of mirrors without becoming blinded and yet still interact compassionately with those who have?

I don’t claim to have an answer to this yet. I do, however believe that there’s a good chance that answer might be found in a life of service. Not in some arbitrarily adopted lifestyle chosen simply because someone you’ve been trained to worship has done the same. I’m talking about a life based upon the realization and utilization of whatever gifts one possesses for the greater good of others. Not everyone can be Gandhi, Mother Theresa, or Jesus Christ. Yet the volunteer who holds the hand of a dying hospice patient is no less important.

I’ll tip my hat to the mad prophets of the world. The David Ickes, Alex Joneses, et al who scream from their mountain tops about the evils lurking among us. They serve, in a way, as alarm clocks, stirring those who’ll listen from their socially ingrained slumber and sending them on their way. Yet, like with the nagging wail of an alarm clock, those who refuse to listen can simply ignore it or turn it off. And those who are awake no longer need it.

There are many out there whose paths of service are multilane highways paved in prominence: earthshaking individuals meeting with heads of state and boards of directors, deciding policies with global repercussions. For my own part, I‘ve no desire to, and seen no indication that I’ll ever become one of them. So I’ve backed away from the global issues and chosen instead to serve in my own small way; one person at a time.

It’s a much simpler path, and allows me to throw my efforts into places where they’re more effective. . .

Checking In…

Posted in Autumn, gratitude, Healing, Shamanism, Spirituality on October 2, 2015 by Standing West

The rains have gotten colder. The tomatoes are putting out the last of their fruit, but the mums are having hell of a good time for themselves. Even though we’re busier than we have been for quite some time, the hours and minutes don’t seem to carry as much weight as they used to.

I spent the morning painting miniatures and listening to the rain come down…a nice reward after a week of appointments and last night’s talk on shamanism at a local studio.

Tonight my wife and I will be catching up with some friends we haven’t seen for many months. And tomorrow afternoon we’re off to lunch with a dear friend who’s visiting from Ireland. She’s an amazing harpist and a powerful healer. We’ve worked together a couple of times, combining the harp and the frame drum; but tomorrow it’s bar food, a couple of pints, and some well-anticipated laughter.

I’ll round out the weekend with a day of teaching for a couple of advanced students on Sunday.

I like this life.

In between the healing and the ceremonial work, there’s time for a home life and all the things that go with it. We’re learning to live on faith these days, and allowing the path to shape us – instead of the other way around. Bits and pieces fall away; opening space for new things.

We head into Autumn not really knowing what it’ll bring. More and more our focus is on the present. It’s been a struggle to get to this place. And while there’s still a good deal of work to be done, it’s also good to take stock of how far we’ve come and to sit with that for a while, breathing it in…breathing it out…simply letting the current carry us forward…

So lately…

Posted in gratitude, Healing, Initiation on August 19, 2015 by Standing West

…life has been very, very good to me. Most particularly so since my day job went tets-up in May and left me free to throw myself completely into my practice. There’s a calling here, and straddling both that and the nine to five world had left me feeling like I was standing on two drifting logs in the middle of a river and needing to leap firmly to one or drown.

Then, with little input from yours truly, Spirit made the decision, and that was that.

Soon afterwards, we set the home office up and two studios jumped in to offer use of their space at a very reasonable rate… In short, the fuse was lit and there was no blowing it out. Nor, to be honest, is there even a desire to.

Money’s a little tighter these days, but the Spiritual abundance is amazing; and Obamacare and savings spackle the cracks.

I’ll also add that entirely absent from the equation is a sense of worry about the future which, given the way things were, would’ve absolutely crippled me had these circumstances arisen a couple of years ago.

As I sit here typing this in my office at 11:24 on a Wednesday morning listening to Van Morrison, the joy of that fact is not lost on me. My wife has taken her mother out for the day and soon I’ll be up to my armpits in paperwork…my paperwork. There’s filing to do and preparations to make for a 7 o’clock appointment. Should time permit, I might even go a couple of rounds with the crab grass…or throw myself into a video game and chill out for a while until my wife comes home.

It seems these days the possibilities are endless…

Posted in Healing, Initiation, Inspirational, Spirituality on August 12, 2015 by Standing West

As we wrapped up the Medicine Wheel the other night, people started thanking me.  Rolling through my mind came the question, “What have I done?”

Without hesitation, in words clear as day came the simple answer, “You said ‘Yes’…”

Pruning the garden…

Posted in gardening, Healing, Initiation, prayer, Sun Moon Dance, yard work on July 7, 2015 by Standing West

There’s been a lot of new growth around here these last few weeks.

The two timid strawberry plants I stuck in the ground a couple of years ago have exploded into a patch that yielded us 6 gallons of berries by the end of this year’s harvest. A multitude of tomatoes and peppers hangs fat and lazy in the early morning sun, and spaghetti squash – an unexpected discovery rescued from the rotary composter – proudly distend their mottled bellies among the dandelions and the  ghosts of last year’s onions.

The new herb bed out front is bursting with life, secure behind sturdy walls lined with Marigolds unfurling their orange and yellow banners defiantly against the ever-present threat of hungry rabbits.

And although we’ve certainly been blessed with abundance, our space here is limited. The success of our harvest is due in no small part to ruthless and diligent pruning.

I see the recent changes in our lives reflected in the garden. May 21st marked my last full day of 9 – 5. My position was phased out and so I left a job I’d held for nearly ten years. I’d sensed for some time that it was coming; not only from the slowing down of work, but also from the subtle – and not so subtle – nudging of Creator to plant my feet firmly upon the spiritual path, tend to my own self-healing, and simply let the rest take care of itself.

For the last two or three years I’ve been praying almost ceaselessly for the removal of anything that might interfere with this journey. During that time, friends have gone their way, habits and hobbies have waned or disappeared, and interests once deemed vital have completely flickered out.

In the space that has opened up, two new studios have generously offered to accommodate an increasing number of appointments; and my wife and I have finally finished converting our downstairs family room into a home office. During this time, we’ve had ample opportunities to focus on our own healing work; and also to pursue our work with others in ways we’d never imagined.

As we enter the arbor in two days for the Sun Moon Dance, I’m keenly aware that as it’s my 7th time, I’ll be dancing in the West of the South: the place of sacred work in the direction of emotion, opposition, and the dying away of things which no longer serve. Admittedly, I enter the arbor this time with no small trepidation – even writing about it now stirs some tension in my solar plexus, and reminds me that the years that have passed since I first picked up the drum have led me to this place.

And while I feel the symptoms of deep and difficult work approaching, I’m no longer focused on the outcome.

I seek only to walk, and to work, and to serve; to prune away the dead and dying branches, that Spirit’s light might reach and nourish the rest…


Posted in Compassion, Healing, Initiation, Inspirational, poetry, Spirituality on April 7, 2015 by Standing West

And so it is:
golds and browns
giving way to sleepy greens
and grays tinged with blue.

On days like this
even the rain is meditation.

We’re called to these things.

And as we rise to meet them,
they become us;
or rather,
they fold us into themselves,
so that after a while one fails to notice
the difference
between the service
and the one who serves…

Someone gimme a stone…

Posted in ceremony, Healing, Initiation, prayer, sweat lodge, visions on January 7, 2015 by Standing West

I’ve found myself being called upon to welcome the Stone People into the sweat lodge on a regular basis lately. As is typical when undertaking a ritual, one must be aware of both the practical or exoteric component, and the deeper or esoteric component that empowers the physical container with the Sacred, enabling it to become a vessel for the breath of God.

The Grandfathers leave the fire cherry red; the images on their skin whispering stories in the dark for those who will open themselves and listen. We receive the Stones from the pitchfork into a basket formed by interlocking the tines of White Tail antlers. Then they are placed into the pit to receive their blessing of herbs and the water which, in the form of steam, will carry our prayers to the Great Spirit for the good of All Our Relations.

On a practical level, the antlers are sturdy, resistant to heat, and fit together securely, keeping the Stones from rolling away and burning someone. They also provide better control over where the Stones are placed in the pit.

Symbolically the antlers represent gentleness. The fire from which the Stones are taken is a violent, masculine environment. Rather than bathing the participants in this emotionally aggressive energy, the Grandfathers are cradled in a softer, feminine energy before being brought into the lodge. Focusing on this, one transcends the self and becomes the instrument through which the process unfolds.

The last time I was asked however, a deeper level of awareness opened up. As we move through our lives, or rather, as our lives unfold through us, we will encounter difficult situations which will test us in every conceivable – and perhaps not so conceivable – way. We can meet these challenges carelessly, injuring ourselves and others in the process; or we can open up to them and receive them with gentility and grace, allowing their energy to serve, through our interaction with it, as a lesson for All Our Relations. . .


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