Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Black Panther Equinox

Let me preface this by explaining that in a visioning at the last winter solstice, I met my power animal—-the black panther. As the visioning began, we were instructed to enter the unseen realms through an opening in a tree trunk. So I did. Once there, a black panther with an owl riding on his back came strolling down a path toward me. The owl and I gazed at each other for a few moments in deep acknowledgment and then the owl flew off. The panther stayed, his golden eyes focused unflinchingly on mine. I received some knowledge, some awareness, from him, but I couldn’t name what it was. He then turned and continued along the path he had arrived on. Although somewhat frightened of him, I knew I was to follow and did. As the visioning was drawn to a close, the guide instructed us to say goodbye to our power animal and return through the same opening in the tree. As I stepped into the opening, however, the panther squeezed past my legs and leapt through it before me! It was clear he was not staying behind, but coming along into my world.

I had not attempted to meet a power animal before. I intended as soon as I got home to research the symbolism of a black panther, find photos of one on the Internet, and delve into the meaning of this gift. Well, I didn’t do any of that and, in fact, promptly forgot about the experience for some reason.

So then, three months later, arrives the morning after the recent vernal equinox. I awoke from a dream realizing I had just experienced another visit from the panther! His first since the solstice. The dream was a bit odd, as dreams can be, but bear with me. In the dream, I was a teenager with a teenage sister and brother. My family owned a gym and we were having some kind of open house. My sister and I had a huge argument in the middle of it. She yelled in front of everyone that I should just get out of the gym; she didn’t want to be around me, she didn’t like me, and she didn’t want to be my sister anymore! Each word a knife slicing deeply into my teenage heart.

Our mother, who had been in close proximity without us realizing it, heard what my sister had yelled. She informed my sister that her behavior was unacceptable and she was the one to leave the gym, not me. My mother marched her out to drive her home. Then (victim that I am) I began wondering why Mother went with my sister instead of staying to comfort me!

A flood wild of wild thoughts raced through my mind and I burst into tears. I was going to leave my family! None of them loved me. I was going to go away—they’d find just how much they missed me! I suddenly remembered that a friend was leaving for a year’s exchange program in Europe, and I decided that was the answer! I would apply and go as well. I wheeled around to run to the gym’s computer, which would have had the desired dramatic effect save for the large, born-again Christian youth group and its leaders sitting on the floor, smack in the way. Weeding my way less-than-hoped-for way through them, I learned that they had overheard the exchange with my sister. They expressed a little sympathy, but were caught up in a discussion of admiration of a church woman they knew who was so very determined that she could accomplish anything.

Once at the computer, I found that I couldn’t see through my streaming tears and realized that applying for the program was a rather rash act. So I left the gym and drove to my favorite hill to think. I climbed the hill and sat alone, surrounded by grasses and trees, sun and breeze. I shed more tears and tried to sort things out. Before long, drained by the afternoon’s hormonal torrent, I dozed off. When I eventually awoke, it was already dark, and cold. I shivered in my short sleeves and shorts. It was so dark, I realized, I wouldn’t be able to find my way back down the hill. And I began to be afraid, knowing that the hill wasn’t particularly safe at night. So, like any respectable teenager, I whipped out my cell phone and called my parents. Their relief was evident. They had been trying to find me and very worried. They assured me they would immediately drive over with flashlights, and lanterns (?), to get me.

I hung up to wait with my knees drawn up in my arms for warmth. I could see a few lights from town in the distance and focused my attention on them. All of a sudden, a large, hardly visible black panther sat down right beside me! He had approached from behind, out of the woods, so stealthily that I hadn’t been aware of him until I caught a movement out of my left eye. A wave of fear jolted through me. I was going to be eaten for sure! As the cat began sniffing in my direction, I knew he had caught the scent of my fear. I knew I had to immediately quell the fear and tried to do so by reasoning that the cat had simply sat down by me rather than attack me outright. I managed to calm down a bit. The cat just calmly looked at me and then looked ahead. For a time we sat side by side in what for me was tense silence.

Suddenly, the cat growled, and then I heard the sounds of a stray dog running up the hill toward us. The panther growled again, and the sound of the running stopped and then receded as the dog turned and ran back down the hill. I realized then that the panther had come to protect me! I looked at the cat with wonder and gratitude. He simply looked ahead. After a bit, I spotted two swinging lanterns heading up the hill accompanied by the muffled conversation of men with ill intent. (Don’t ask me how I knew this, but I did.) They, of course, hadn’t noticed us yet in the dark. The panther growled loudly in warning. The talking stopped. Then, suddenly, rising up off of his haunches, the cat screamed a piercing, horrifyingly human scream, sending me a foot in the air and the men fleeing down the hill. With ringing ears, I glanced appreciatively at the cat, meeting the ancient wisdom and care in his golden eyes.

As the panther settled, he moved even closer to me to lay down, his bulk bumping my side and throwing me a bit off balance—a grand version of a domestic cat’s nudging when she wants to be petted. It was thrilling to be touching the panther, and I was grateful for the heat of his body, but I was somewhat afraid to reach over and pet him. Yet the fear quickly yielded to a knowing of our boundaries. I clearly understood that I was not to pet him. I was simply to accept what he offered and relax in his company, warmth, and protection. His touch was enough. I was safe.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Dream of White Buffalo Calf Woman

Last night I dreamt that as a female elder of an indigenous North American tribe, White Buffalo Calf Woman appeared to me and presented several sacred, material gifts for the tribe--these in addition to her previous, ancient gifts of spiritual and practical teachings. The gifts were a beautiful, room-size rug woven in earth tones and blues that told a story to the tribe, a small, exquisite, intricately woven rug, a three-foot painted, carved wooden likeness of herself, and a plain black metal (iron?) ladle.

I then presented the gifts to the tribe and we placed them in the longhouse with a consecration ceremony. The large rug was laid near the meeting space, the small rug was hung on the wall in a prominent location, the statue was set in a Northeast corner, and the ladle was put to use for soups and broths made over the main cooking fire. My people loved the gifts and were constantly turning to them, offering gratitude, acknowledging their sacredness, and receiving their comfort and great blessings.

The ladle was used daily with great appreciation, eventually showing normal signs of wear.

After a time, though, the people started losing site of the sacredness of these gifts. They no longer cared for the large rug, trampling into it ashes and fire-black, wood debris, dust, and dry leaves and grasses. So I quietly took on the care of the rug, sweeping and shaking it alone. I began to feel concern for my people and reminded them of the sacredness of the rug. I hoped and prayed that with patience they would truly remember.

Then I discovered that the sacred statue had become oily, dented, and worn, and its paint flecked, from repeatedly being handled in a rough, playful manner, rather than with the respect it was due. My patience began dissolving into irritation and sorrow. I realized there was nothing I could do to restore the statue. I prayed daily to White Buffalo Calf Woman and the ancestors for guidance, but none came.

When the day came that I spotted a group of young women giggling while trying to pull down the intricate wall hanging, I erupted. Boiling rage, frustration, and despair rose up simultaneously in me, overtaking any familiar sense of self. I rushed over to the women waving my arms, so enraged that I could not speak. My commotion caught their attention and stopped their actions. I tried to shout at them to make them realize their disrespect and foolishness, but only faint squeaking noises escaped from my rage-constricted throat. My furious squeaking served only to spark another spasm of their giggling and they returned to their intent.

Through the rage that seemed to explode my being, the thought arose What will become of us?

Monday, March 16, 2009

Choosing Happiness

One of my favorite points in personal growth is the moment when I realize I have a choice in how I react to any particular situation. It often feels like there is no choice: an event happens and my feelings arise instantaneously. If someone insults me, what else could I feel but hurt and ticked off? However, there is a nanosecond before my feelings arise in which I can make a choice. I can choose to judge the event differently and thereby react differently. That moment--when I see a choice--is my favorite one. Even if I can't actually make a better choice right then, simply seeing there is a choice opens the door to emotional freedom and more happiness. I no longer feel at the mercy of my emotions.

For example, my grown daughter and I have developed a pattern over the years. She occasionally comes to me for advice when she has a problem. And I, of course, offer the perfect solution. She then tells me why that solution won't work. So I come up with perfect solution number two, and she tells me why that one won't work either. So, I think a moment and come up with solution number three. (I'm pretty good at this.) Then I hear how that won't work either. And so on. We both come away from the conversation feeling frustrated and irritated. I vow never again to give my unappreciative daughter advice--a vow that lasts until the next time she asks. It's a cycle that doesn't create happiness for either of us.

However, suddenly in the middle of yet another of these frustrating conversations I got it! I saw a choice! So, I immediately shut up. I rested a couple of beats, took a deep breath, and said, "You know Sweetie, I don't have an answer. That's really a challenging situation, but I know you're a capable, intelligent young woman and you'll be able to figure out a solution soon. I love you." After a stunned silence she replied, "Thanks, Mom. I needed to hear that. I love you too." End of conversation. Wow. What finally reached through my somewhat thick skull was that she really didn't want advice! She simply wanted to be reminded that she is loved and capable of developing her own solution. And she wanted this reassurance from someone she knows dearly loves her--Mom.

I must confess that to stick by this understanding each time my daughter asks for advice is a challenge for me, the fixer of the world. But when I do, it continues to transform these types of conversations into an exchange of love and happiness.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Goddess Moon

Yippee! Evening daylight is back! I so love this time change. Have we just ended daylight savings time and started standard time, or is it the other way around?
Going for a walk around 6 p.m., I found the almost-full goddess moon rising low over Sonoma Mountain, grand and bright in a still-blue sky. She called to my chattering monkey mind to rest in her grace. And reminded me that I really should invest in a good camera and some photography lessons. Asking my beloved iPhone to capture the majesty of this moment was simply asking too much--a moon ready to leap out of the sky reduced to a mere pinpoint. Hello Sister Moon! Larabee, did you do her justice?

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Dream of Green Water

I had a sweet dream of grace, faith, and the feminine the other night. In the dream, I was swimming in the warm, almost opaque, deep green waters of Jamaica. It was a freshwater lake rather than the ocean. I was swimming with a friend while holding a book up above the water with one hand in order to protect it—a bit awkward. The swimming was still delicious and relaxed—the warm, silky water caressing my body. And simply moving my body was a delight. I was filled with contentment and well-being. The thought crossed my mind that I couldn’t see what was below me in the opaque water, but I easily dismissed it. I then decided to dive. I could have laid the book on a nearby rock wall, but I chose to clutch it to my breast, my heart, and dive with it! I remember a moment of hesitation about damaging the book, but I knew that closed, the book would survive with only minor wrinkling at page edge. I dove deep in the warm caress of the water and rose buoyantly back to the surface filled with joy. I woke with a smile on my face (unusual for this night owl).