year

We Are Our Deeds
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We Are Our Deeds

As we approach the end of the calendar year, my thoughts turn inwards in reflection. It’s a time to take stock of the year that has just gone, and to plan for the coming year ahead. The thought however at the forefront of my mind this moment is the saying: we are our deeds.

Actions really do speak louder than words. How many New Year’s resolutions have fallen by the wayside, words that were not acted upon? What we do says a lot more than what we say. Just look at the politics of the UK right now. It’s all words, and actions that are either missing or which belie those very words. It’s seeking to be in the limelight, to be popular, to further one’s own personal agenda. It’s corruption, lies and squirming to get out of a self-created hole. It’s a real mess, to put it mildly.

Be the change that you want to see in the world. How many times have we heard that phrase? Be the change, it says. It’s up to you to put in the effort: it is your deeds, not your words that will shift the narrative. How we live and what we do will say more than words ever could. We have enough examples in politics and the media of those who words do not accord with their deeds, of lies and deceit, scandal and cover-ups. Let’s not be like them. Let’s live our lives better.

Our lives are totally integrated. With others in our household, with the ecosystem where we live, with the entire planet. As such, we must look towards our own personal integrity, to ensure that the integration is real. If we really want to integrate and be an integral part of the whole, we need to do things differently. We have to have our own personal integrity, first and foremost. Without that, what are we? Where are we?

Words are important, there is no doubt about that. Keeping to your word increases your own integrity, your might and your main: your personal power. Following up your words with actual deeds keeps them honourable. These actions build within us, until we find our lives changing, because we have changed. Intention means nothing without action.

We will all fail at something at various points in our lives, whether it is living up to our words or our own expectations However, it is when we begin again, when we follow up failure with action, when we pick ourselves up an try again that we find integrity. We can learn as much from our failures as from our successes. It’s in the action of doing, of trying, where we learn the lessons, not in the thinking of it. Thinking is an abstraction. If you want true change, our deeds must follow our thoughts and our words.

There are things that need to change in my life, and areas where I can do better, be better. At this time of year, I am clarifying those issues, honing them down to a single statement that I can remember to put into action when a situation calls for it. It’s not enough to have a vague idea of where I’m going or what I’m going to do in a certain situation. An action plan is called for, so that when it arises in any circumstance I am prepared with the tools necessary to take action, to allow my deeds to prove my words.

This year, I urge all those who are making New Year’s resolutions to do the same. Hone and refine what it is that you wish to change, to a single, simple sentence. Write it out, if you can. Pin it up where you can see it every day. Say it to yourself morning and night. Integrate the words into your very being so that when the situation calls for the change, you will remember your words, your oath and your resolve. And you will do the right thing. Your deeds will reflect you. Your deeds will say more than your words ever could.

In this time of winter, when the short days and long nights bear down upon us, think about integrity and integration. Think about words and deeds.

And do the thing.

Blessings of the winter solstice to you all, and happy new year.

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Happy Holidays!

I’d like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has walked down the forest path with me over this year. It’s been a difficult and trying year for so many, and I feel hope that so many have pulled together, lighting the darkness so that others can see, guiding them through the dark night of the soul.

This year, I’m no exception to the many who have slogged their way through personal pain. Physical illness and surgery, isolation and separation from family (and not knowing when I’ll be able to return to Canada to see them), and now a recent death in the family and more have all laid their burden upon my soul. But I take heart that the days will soon begin to lengthen, and find hope in the darkest of days. There is a long way to go for most of us, and the trials and tribulations of winter still lie ahead. But have courage, and remember the good moments, the times of joy and celebration, for they will come around again.

We must all accept personal responsibility for getting out of this pandemic. Stay safe, stay well, and look after your loved ones appropriately. I wish you all the best in the coming year, and I’ll be back here once again after a little time off during the holidays.

Blessings of the solstice season, to you all. xoxo

The Holly and the Ivy video
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Happy New Year from Octopus Dance!

Wishing you all a very Happy New Year. Thank you all so much for your support with this blog – it has truly stunned me to see all the comments, views and other blogs posts shared here.

In 2013, Octopus dance had over 18,000 views, from 92 different countries.  Thank you so much for sharing your creativity, for being the awen, and for allowing me to share mine.

Quotes from Mary Oliver come to mind:

“Instructions for living a life.
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.”
― Mary Oliver 

 

“to live in this world
you must be able
to do three things
to love what is mortal;
to hold it

against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go”
― Mary Oliver, New and Selected Poems, Vol. 1

 

“Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable.”
― Mary Oliver

 

Many, many blessings to each and every one of you, and may your journey in 2013 be filled with the wonder that is truly living life, and filled with the awen. Remember – don’t just go with the flow – be the flow itself. x

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Spiritually Ill

At Samhain, by sunset I was in bed, the world was spinning.  I had just gotten off the phone to cancel the evening’s ritual. I had doggedly worked through the previous two days with a headache that just wouldn’t go away, and an all over body ache that I attributed to overdoing it in yoga.  Now nausea took over; I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. This was something different.

My blood boiled and the fever took over, running for the next three days.  Then blisters began to appear, and I knew – I had chicken pox.  I had managed to elude it for 39 years, and it finally caught up with me. My immune system was already weakened from a previous virus and an unrelaxing but still enjoyable holiday.

Halfway through the night we had to get up to change the sheets.  The fire in my body was trying to be quenched with sweat. The pounding in my head was almost unbearable.  As I dragged my aching body back into bed and into the blessed darkness, I wondered how I could deal with this illness on a spiritual level.

Using meditation techniques to calm the body and ease the headache, it was pretty easy at first. But then the rash came out, and all thoughts of coping with meditation flew out the window.  The fever comes and goes, a rush of fire through the body and that is quite easy to follow along, feeling it along my body and in my bones, through my hair and rising off my body.  It’s the stillness that is difficult in these circumstances.  I thought my Zen and meditation training would help to ease this. I was wrong.

It was impossible to sit still.  It was impossible to sleep. It still is.  Lying down, you feel all the nerves reacting to the virus, sending sharp little elf shots throughout the body and into the blisters.  You twitch. Even now, the twitching doesn’t stop.  The mind is doing all it can to get away from the pain, from the discomfort. Trying to type these words and form a cohesive thought pattern is a real challenge.

So what to do? How to deal with the chicken pox virus spiritually as well as physically? I’ve found that my skin is soothed outside, by sitting in the backyard, letting the sun and the wind ease the pain.  It doesn’t last for long – when I go back inside again it returns, but I am reminded of the moments of normalcy, of nature all around me, continuing on even as the fires rage within my body.  It is a reminder that the world is bigger than you are – when we are ill, we can so easily become despondent, self-absorbed ( I know – writing a blog about this is a tad on the solipsism side, but bear with me).

I look at my cat, who has been fighting with a stomach infection for months now.  She doesn’t seem terribly bothered by it – animals deal with pain and illness, death and dying so much better than most humans. They have an innate grace when it comes to it, all things considered.  And so I take inspiration from nature to help me combat the mental and physical challenges that lie ahead this week.

I let the awen flow.

I also hit the bottle of calamine lotion, and take some white willow bark.

I feel that this is also a turning point – the Celtic New Year has begun.  My body is undergoing some serious trials right now, and I feel that at the end of this journey I will have learned something valuable.  I was not able to perform any Samhain rituals, but did light a candle for the ancestors and leave it in the front and rear windows of the home, like I do every year, to guide the dead on their journey.  A couple of days later I was able to sit in my altar room and, after trying and giving up on meditation I turned to my oldest set of cards for inspiration.  What did I need to learn from this, I asked? The card I drew was Initiation.

And so, I feel that this is telling me to stop, to slow down even, to see the new phase in my life.  To literally do nothing. To deal with pain.  To deal with suffering.  To get on and be inspired by life.  To let go of all concepts related to my looks.  To let go of all thoughts of the future. To enjoy the moment. To simply be.  There is nothing like pain to get you in the present moment, if you truly open yourself up to it.

It has showed me that even though I talk about slowing down, and not taking on so many commitments, that I need to walk the talk.  I have talked about slowing down for months now, and yet keep accepting new work, birthing new ideas and letting the awen flow.  What I need to do is to retreat, to stop for a bit, to perhaps stem the flow of awen pouring out, and focus on it pouring back in.

This illness has really highlighted that for me.  Exchange, relationship. I talk about this a lot, and yet now see how unbalanced I was in it.  And so, learning from this episode in my life, I start the new year unable to do much except sit and read, or watch the birds as the sun sets a little closer each evening.  There are books to read, sacred places to visit.  A retreat from the world in order to better engage with it – this is what the monastic tradition is all about.  It’s calling to me at the moment. Time to ponder on thoughts of the self, to chop wood and carry water.  The cool breeze from the open window beside me is so delicious on my hot and blistered skin.

Is this how to deal with illness as a Druid? Maybe – each person’s journey is different, and sacred. May yours be walked in balance and harmony, in darkness and in light with equal joy and yes, pain.