Moving into the Dark

A friend just asked me “What tools in your spiritual arsenal do you use to embrace the transformation of light into dark during this time of the year?  Are there habits, or traditions you use to transition yourself from the active growth of the summer and into the more introspective place of Winter?"  

As I thought about this question, I considered my childhood:  autumn brought relief from the heat of Chicago Summer.  I went back to school, which I sometimes enjoyed and sometimes hated, mostly depending on the teacher.  I spent more time reading, which I loved!  Winter with its dirty snow and ice wasn't so pretty in Chicago, but when we went to visit family in Wisconsin, it was often beautiful beyond measure.  My cousins lived in small towns and on farmland.  We made snowmen, and went ice skating.  I also loved the warmth of homemade comforters in an unheated second floor bedroom at my Grandmother's house. These days I seldom see my cousins, though I still sleep in an unheated room.

Both Summer and Winter are softer here in the Northwest, though the Summer days linger longer and the Winter is darker.  As Autumn approaches, I begin to feed the birds and the squirrels (though the squirrels don't seem to need feeding as much).

I give thanks for the harvest home, even though it mostly isn't my own handiwork.  I begin to read more and write more.  My writing group is more active and mostly everyone is at every meeting.  This is a change from sparse attendance in the Summer.  

Thanksgiving is on the cusp of late Fall into Winter, and I do give thanks for all the bounty I have received.  I celebrate the Solstices and Equinoxes with prayer and ceremony.  I pray with my pipe more often, and longer and more often sit in meditation.  It is a time for introspection and rejuvenation.  And certainly Christmas and Winter Solstice is a time for joy!

Already the air is softer and cooler.  It is beginning.  Rejoice.

Cousins by the Dozens

Today I talked to one of my cousins who I haven't seen for several decades.  I spent most of my childhood in Chicago, and my parents took me to Wisconsin frequently, at least once a year.  Since most of my cousins were there, I saw them regularly.  Both of my parents  have been living in the Midwest until my Dad came to Washington state a little over a year ago to share a house with me.  My parents have kept in touch much better than I have. 

Both of my parents came from large families.  Mom was one of 11, and Dad was one of 7.  Then three brothers from one family married three sisters from the other.  My Mom and Dad were the last of the three brothers and sisters to marry.  One of Dad's brothers had 10 children, and one of his sisters had 9.  Of all the families, only two had only children, and I am one of those.  But I counted 100 first cousins, including 8 double cousins.  All of us double cousins were fairly close, especially Maggie and me, the nearest in age.  We fought and played and loved each other.  I have lost Maggie's phone number, so if you read this, Maggie, please get in touch!

I called my cousin Joanne today, and we had a great time.  She just got back from a family reunion picnic in Iowa, and told me about next year's picnic in Wisconsin.  Hopefully, my Dad and I will be able to go.  I had such mixed feelings: I was happy to reconnect, and also sad for all I have missed through the years.  We all get so busy in our lives, and it is all too easy to lose our connections.

I remember how easy it was in the small town where my Dad grew up, and where my double cousins grew up.  We went down to the river and waded, and in the winter we went skating.  It is a resort town in the summer, and my cousins and I all worked in the family restaurants at some time or other.  Everyone knew we were Kimballs just by looking at us.  We would ask to get into attractions for free, and the ticket takers would ask which brother was our Dad.  They did let us in for free.

Today we also talked about one of my "double" cousins, who died in a car crash.  Living in a resort town in Wisconsin, at the end of the summer season, teenagers would drink and celebrate the close of the season.  My cousin Bill was drinking and driving during that weekend, crossed the center line and got hit by a truck.  Bill was such a gentle young man.  He often baby sat for us younger cousins, and was very caring.  When Maggie's mother died, Bill babysat all of his younger cousins.  He was always gentle, kind, and had a great sense of humor.

 Joanne also told me a story of when Bill was very young.  Uncles from both my Mom's and Dad's family owned a restaurant in Dalhart, Texas. This was near the end of WWII and somewhat after.  Segregation was still the norm.  The family didn't like it, but would lose their business if they went against the pattern of the time.  So the African-Americans, many of them soldiers, ate in the back room.  And Bill, even as young as he was, knew it was wrong.  And he treated them with great kindness.  I wish I had more time to know him.  He died too young!

I guess that is what my feelings were in the phone call.  Time slips away.  I made a promise to myself to keep in touch with family and friends. Joanne and I decided we must have a list of phone numbers and email.  We are too scattered and busy - so we need a reminder every so often.  We need our family.

Wasps in the House

Years ago I lived on a farm.  My bedroom had its own bath and an outside door.  I noticed that there was a wasp nest under the eave about six feet away from the door to my room.  So I made a contract with the wasps.  I asked that they stay out of the house, and not harm any of us humans or our animals.  I enjoyed watching the wasps that summer, and the only violation of the contract, even with my door almost always open, was a wasp that got lost.  The lonely wasp went out the door when I pointed the way.

Since then I hadn't really need to deal with wasps.  Until this week.  The wasps have found a way into the living room.  But then they want to get out, because they can't find any food, water or comfort. Generally wasps will stay out of the house - unless they have a nest in the walls, which I think is what we have.

Wasps, although annoying, should be thought of as beneficial insects.  They prey mainly on other insects, many of which are pests. In general, they avoid human activity and should only be considered a nuisance when nesting near homes or high traffic areas.  
http://eartheasy.com/live_natwasp_control.htm

I have been carrying them out, and they seem relieved to be outdoors, but wasps are still coming in.  And, I truly don't want to kill the wasps. I will have to find a way without chemicals and hopefully not killing the wasps.

This all reminds me of the song All God's Creatures Got a Place in the Choir:

By Bill Staines

All God's critters got a place in the choir
Some sing low, some sing higher
Some sing out loud on the telephone wire
And some just clap their hands, or paws
Or anything they got.

Listen to the bass, it's the one on the bottom
Where the bullfrog croaks and the hippopotamus
Moans and groans with a big to-do
The old cow just goes MOOOOO

The dog and the cat pick up the middle
While the honey bee hums and the cricket fiddles
The donkey brays and the pony neighs
And the old coyote howls

All God's critters got a place in the choir
Some sing low, some sing higher
Some sing out loud on the telephone wire
And some just clap their hands, or paws
Or anything they got.

Listen to the top where the little birds sing
On the melody with the high note ringing
The hoot owl hollers over everything
And the jaybird disagrees

Singin' in the night-time, singin' in the day
Little duck quacks, and he's on his way
The possum ain't got much to say
And the porcupine talks to himself

All God's critters got a place in the choir
Some sing low, some sing higher
Some sing out loud on the telephone wire
And some just clap their hands, or paws
Or anything they got.

It's a simple song of livin' sung everywhere
By the ox and the fox and the grizzly bear
Grumpy alligator and the hawks above
Sly raccoon and the turtle dove.

All God's critters got a place in the choir
Some sing low, some sing higher
Some sing out loud on the telephone wire
And some just clap their hands, or paws
Or anything they got.

Climate Change and the Clean Air Act

I would guess that there are people in these United States who know little or nothing about the Clean Air Act.  It was the subject of a Note (meaning an 80 page article with footnotes!) I wrote when I was in law school  35 years ago.  The original Clean Air Act set standards for particulates and other contaminates in cities and areas where the air was clearly harming humans, crops, and more.  The amendment I wrote about required that the smog could not be spread out into pristine areas, such as National Parks, as a way of keeping the air clean in places where it hadn't been.

A short while ago, just on the cusp of the Summer Solstice, the conservative Supreme Court stated by a narrow margin that climate change can be controlled by the Environmental Protection Agency via the Clean Air Act.  This is really huge. Just five years ago, Chief Justice Roberts and Justice Scalia were two of the four justices that dissented on the same issue.  Now they have completely changed their position.

The scientists, by and large, now agree that climate change is a reality, and that we need to take action to moderate the change.  Whether we like it or not, it is now a fact on this lovely planet.  So . . . buy an electric car (I really would love to buy a Tesla!) or a hybrid, turn off the lights when you leave a room, buy CFL bulbs, use the cleanest energy you can manage, and conserve, conserve, conserve!

Bowser the cat

Bowser the cat came to me from a couple who were getting more and more allergic to cat hair.  Bowser does have a thick, beautiful coat of hair.  He was terrified when he came to me.  The first thing he did was to crawl into the cupboard under the bathroom sink.  Of course I let him stay there as long as he chose.  After a few days he spent most of the time out of the cupboard.  It has taken a while, but he trusts me implicitly these days.

He came to me at 12 years old with declawed front paws.  The people who Bowser lived with before me told me he had "escaped" from the house and was gone for 6 months.  He had been about 18 pounds when he left and came back at 12 pounds.  I don't know how he stayed alive for all that time, or how he found his way home.

Bowser and I lived in a small apartment for several years.  He once got out into the hallway, but was totally frightened by a fierce female cat in the apartment next door.  After that he did not even attempt to go out of my apartment.

But for the past year, we have lived in a house with a large yard and a fenced in patio.  Bowser desperately wanted to go out beyond the fence, and he did escape several times.  Then, more recently, he came home with a bite that turned into and abscess before I even realized he'd been bitten.  The vet bill was more than I wanted to pay, but . . . the Bowser was worth it. The vet said he was a real gentleman, and everyone there liked him.  I'd say he one of the sweetest cats I've known.

Now Bowser still wants to go out of the fenced patio, but I am not willing for him to get hurt again.  For one thing, I would be sad if he hurts, and I don't have money for vet bills either.  Of course Bowser doesn't have any concept of  money.

Perhaps the most important thing is that Bowser and I are bonded to each other.  It took a long time, but he realized that he is safe with me and my Dad.  He trusts me implicitly.  And I love him dearly.  As with most family pets, there will be a time when Bowser dies.  Actually, fairly soon because he is about 16 years old.  For now, I just love him.

A Dog's Life – and Death

My dearly loved dog Shama was two feet tall, 100 pounds of muscle, and fiercely protective, yet she charmed almost everyone she met.  Her best dog friend Coco lived with my friend Lu (whom Shama also adored).  The two dogs ate from the same dish and slept on the same bed.  When circumstances led to Coco coming to the farm for an extended visit, Coco missed her "Mom," but generally was an outgoing and happy dog. 

Then one day I found Shama lying on the floor under the kitchen table whining.  I work with devas and nature spirits regularly, so I connected with them and asked if they could help her.  They indicated they would.  In fact, she had already ceased her quiet whimpering.  They also said no to my inquiry about taking her to the vet.  I talked to a friend who also communicates with animals, and she thought that Shama would be all right.

But by afternoon, Shama's belly was distended and hot, and the vet told me over the phone that expensive surgery was not likely to help.  Soon,  Lu arrived, and Shama laboriously got off the bed and went to her, leaning her massive head against her friend's legs.  Before long, I heard Shama'a death rattle and in minutes she was gone.  I later learned that Shama had gone to the astral plane, where a Native American teacher told her that her work with me was finished.  She was given a choice to stay with me for a brief time, for love, or take on a new job.  She decided to take on a new task.

We did ceremonial pipe over her body, and I heard my teacher in that lineage, Sun Bear, who was already on the other side, laugh at me and say "She's my medicine dog now!"  A friend who was present saw the same teacher, with Shama on one side and his long time companion Samoyed, Shasta, on the other.  Shama had not gone through the bardo, but went right from here to there, accompanied by Shasta. 

Lu made the decision that Coco would stay with me permanently.  For several years, she was my almost constant companion.  No one could replace Shama, yet Coco and I became good friends.  She was already fourteen when she came to me, and beginning to have aches and pains.  I began to talk to her about her choices.  She never understood "death."  When she finally had a severe problem that required surgery, I made the decision for euthanasia.  The vet was very gentle, yet I was devastated.  I knew she was fine – I felt her reach the light, and even heard her comical domination of the much bigger Shama.  She scolded in her sharp Aussie voice, "You didn't tell me where you were going, and I couldn't find you!"

I told my guides I needed a time out and wasn't willing to help any more animals cross over for a long time.  Not only Shama and Coco, but also two friends' dogs, a cat, two horses, a snake, and my own long time cat friend had needed my help within a ten year span.

Then I met Polly and Zoe.  Polly works with animal communication and Reiki, and Zoe was her service dog.  Zoe reminded me in many ways of Coco.  Zoe related to me very gently – licking my hand at one point – yet maintaining a slight but noticeable distance.  In talking to Polly about it, something shifted in me.  Zoe rolled over, exposing her belly and begging for petting and hugging.

Not long after, I met Thomas and his dog Jenny.  Thomas asked if I would create a flower essence blend for him and for Jenny, who had been having seizures.  The seizures had stopped, but she was very weak and lethargic.  Thomas was extremely distraught.

I found that Jenny was ready to die, but was waiting for Thomas to accept it.  The flower essence combination for Jenny was to assist after a paradigm shift – I knew she had already made the transition.  Thomas himself needed a calming essence and one for receptivity.

Also, my friend Shama, who still is definitely a medicine dog, came to me very strongly.  She said she would keep very close to Jenny through this, and take her to the other side when it was time.  Helping other animals who were getting ready to die was her new job.

There was a big gift in this work with Jenny that I did not even recognize at first because it was so obvious.

About 12 years prior a good friend's dog had an inoperable tumor on her pancreas.  She was having seizures 1 to 3 times a day.  Because my friend was too close to the situation to get clear, I often tuned in for her to see what was needed.  The family had long planned a complicated two week vacation with two other families – one of whom had non-refundable airline tickets.  So I dog sat while they were away.

The dog taught me a great deal about allowing – it was her life after all – and not being attached to the outcome.  She had refused to eat until I agreed with this principle, and then she began eating again.  Her family's return date was loose, the hour totally unknown.  But one a day near the date they were due to arrive, she was eager and excited all day.  Finally she insisted on going out front, where we sat on the porch for about 10 minutes until the car drove up.  A week later I was present when she died in her person's arms.  She was the first animal I supported while she was preparing for death.

Her name was Jenny.

Spirit had gently reminded me this was a part of my work and I really could not refuse to do it. 

When Polly asked me why I was taking Coco's death so hard, I realized that it wasn't about the animals.  Though I grieved, I could see them on the other side, and I KNEW they were fine. 

What it was about was stuck feelings/energy from childhood.   During an intense crisis at about age 10, I actually died, and went through the tunnel into the light.  It was so beautiful.  And what I was going through at the time was so horrendous, that I wanted desperately to stay.  But I was told, gently and clearly, that I had work to do, and a long and fruitful life ahead of me. 

Although I had healed much of the trauma around the cause of my near death, I had not processed the feelings and the energy around the death experience itself.  When I worked with animals who died, I saw them reach the light and longed for it myself.  It was too difficult, wanting to be there myself, to help animals reach their destination!

Finally, I have released that as well.  My work of communicating with Spirit and with Nature includes talking to animals, making flower and crystal essences for them, and sometimes helping them and their companions to prepare for their death.  Life is mostly joyful these days, and I am quite happy living my life until it's my time to go to the light.

Check out my web site at www.dragonflyessence.com, or call at (360) 789-9599, or email jackie@dragonflyessence.com.   I am a flower and crystal essence practitioner as well as energy healer (humans and animals) and animal communicator.  I also sells flower and crystal essences and combine them with aromatherapy in sprays.

Teachers in my Life

I was listening to some music that I hadn’t heard in a while: Odetta, Israel Kamakawiwo’ole, and OhShinnah Fastwolf.  As I listened, I realized that each of these persons have had a profound effect on me.  Two of them, Odetta and Israel, are no longer alive in a physical body, and OhShinnah is not teaching or singing these days.  Fortunately their music lives on.

There are others who helped to shape who I am: my parents, of course.  And Anna Esau was an early mentor.  She was a nurse who lived in an apartment downstairs from ours, and she adored me and I her.  We laughed a lot.  She gave me a sureness about who I am.  For example, when I was little, I had red-gold long ringlets.  People often commented on my hair.  So, as a 3 year old, I asked people if they thought my hair was pretty.  My Mother was embarrassed, but Aunty Esau just laughed and said I was just being truthful.  I learned that what some people called a “faux pas” could just be sheer fun!

She was also the one who got me through the tonsillectomy around the same time.  I had had some trauma with needles before I was a year old, and needles scared me.  Aunty was the only one who could get me to stay still for the shot.  Aunty, being a surgical nurse, was also in the OR with me, and was there when I woke.  I learned to do what was necessary even if  it wasn’t easy.

My seventh grade teacher was a gem.  He noticed that I was shy.  I decided to sing in a music competition at my school.  I wasn’t able to hit high notes, and my teacher told me I had a beautiful voice.  He told me never to let anyone tell me to sing in a key that was too high.  I understood that what he said went way beyond singing.  He was talking about my life.  He helped me to know that I was fine just as I am.

In high school, I had a wonderful English teacher.  I participated in speech contests at the State level, largely because my teacher encouraged me, and later I had a lead role in the school play.  I realized that I had talents, and that it was fine to use them.

Much more recently I had the privilege of being adopted by a respected native elder.  She told me to never let anyone influence me to be other than I who I am.

Perhaps you see a pattern here – many teachers have taught me to respect who I am; to be exactly the best me I can be.  They taught me to become my Self.  What a gift for anyone to give.  I am truly grateful.