~Owl Visitation...~

The possibility of an encounter with an animal totem or animal guide has always intrigued me. i have spent many years  walking through the woods, waiting quietly in a meadow or on a beach always on the lookout for such an experience.

 I have heard accounts of people having dreams, visions and actual real life encounters with a specific animal at particularly crucial times in their lives....i have read of vision quests and manifestations...i have imagined a visitation from a spirit guide of my very own during times of deep despair. One element that always seemed important to me is that it not be construed or contrived...but where one is caught off guard , startled ...knocked off balance perhaps...on a day or in a place where one would least expect it.

My owl spirit appeared in very much that way. Swooped in , down into my life , pressed into my confusion , my quiet desperation....a beautiful , formidable , an ever so certain , self assured snowy owl....

We were so stunned that we watched in silence, scarcely able to draw even a breath for fear of breaking the spell. She tore at the food in her talons with frightful intent. When she cast her all knowing eyes in our direction , i felt the gift of owl medicine begin to course through my veins. Of course , the significance of this owl's random yet perfectly construed tarriance in our very specific time and space , will only fully be known to myself and my companion that night. Our snowy owl , our shapeshifter, an admonishment and validation all at once. Funny, in the finite space of my mind , i had always imagined it to be an elk...maybe that is for another time. ~J~

Wake up!

Really needed to sleep last night. Restless though. Long drive from Traverse City to Newport, Rhode Island today ...and tonight ...and a little bit tomorrow. After oil change, fluid top off , tire pressure check and a stop by my folks house we will be on our way. Traveling on the cheap. Don't get paid till after the delivery. Off the schedule at the hospital until further notice...the idea of being a pool nurse was the flexibility for exactly moments like this...Mark revving up his Dry Guy business and hoping that the advertising will percolate while we are gone. He had first job on Saturday! And did I mention the one bag thing? What?? For two climates, three modes of transportation, foul weather gear and West Palm Beach?....my best duffel bag has rollers. I guess that is not a good idea on a a million dollar teak deck job... so drag out the old backpack... still got the flight tags from the Grand Canyon trip.....so i have to drive 20 hrs, be at sea, cook, go from north to south, hot to cold, wet to dry... all on a bag that can be carried on when we fly home. Really? 

The 45th parallel north is a circle of latitude that is 45 degrees north of the Earth's equatorial plane. The 45th parallel north is the halfway point between the Equator and the North Pole. For an invisible line it sure has a magnetic pull on me.

On the Road again...I mean finally...

From NORTH ON SPRUCE....Traverse City MI 44.75°N 85.62°W (Elev. 597 ft)North wind between 10- 15 mph....~Chilly ,windy day....packing my bag(s) for 6 day ocean delivery... Rhode Island to FLorida, five crew ,one cook (me), road trip tomorrow, set sail Wed....~

Chop wood, Carry Water....

I once read a book that describes what one does following enlightenment. I may write one that describes what one does while awaiting it. Last year , i did an I Ching reading ; an ancient oracle used for guidance and wisdom. My reading stated that the picture that best described me was " a heart and a boat drifting between two shores". Okay....here i am...I have lost my way. I need to restore balance to my life. I am clearing my life of all but the most basics of necessity. Caring for my son and tending to my duties at work will be my focus for the next 5 months. I will be rising before the sun , riding my bike to the docks. I will quietly board the schooner while crew still slumbers and i will start the morning fire in the woodstove. I will put on a pot of water for coffee and then wait...meditate..while the stove heats up and the sun rises over the peninsula. Cooking a warm nutritious breakfast and then chopping veggies and prepping the food for the rest of the meals for that day. Keeping the fire hot, stocking the woodbox , filling the fridge with huge blocks of ice that are carted down the docks.....provisioning runs , meal planning , feeling the sway of the boat under my feet, relishing every fresh breeze that makes it way down the companionway into the galley. Going on deck to help with casting off , hoisting sails , furling sails and then heaving lines as we dock again. Mingling with the guests who may be venturing out into the bay waters for the first time, i will point out local lore that i love and all the while allow the healing to flow through me and bring me back to life.... it's all i know to do.

Evolutionary Momentum....

" The restless evolutionary momentum of 2011 unsettles Scorpio's work environment"...."you may finding yourself craving variety and permission to experiment and innovate"...

So, seems as though i was influenced by planetary energy combined with the very conscious awareness that a change was sorely needed for me. I had been feeling the life force and vitality drain from me as through a sieve. My work performance was suffering and the desire for something new and original was undeniable. Although working and living on or around boats has been a lifelong yearning of mine ; i never even imagined this. POSTED :" The Schooner Manitou is looking for a galley cook for the 2011 season. " I dialed the contact number as in a trance and heard myself saying out loud that I would very much be interested in applying for this position. I was called in for an interview that very afternoon. As the days past, i filled out the paperwork, heard back from my references that they had been contacted and was very soon offered the position. The day I went in to give my two week notice at the hospital felt surreal, caught somewhere within that soothing yet disorienting space between an awake state and that of a faintly familiar dream. As i was carried along through this process there was a fusion of feeling totally in control and yet, i think, i actually had almost no control at all .

Sacred Sorrows

This is a season of dark blues, hues of gray and i feel like i somehow have ended up on the wrong side of the color wheel. For anyone who has a depressive core, this dissonance will sound all too familiar. Balancing the pain of an inner "offness" becomes even more difficult and isolating simply by the fact that it can't be explained or measured. This isn't about the weather or a dissatisfaction with my life circumstances. In fact , i have recently made some choices in my life that were very empowering and deeply trans-formative such as my decision to return to my northern home on this 45th parallel. It is often an undetectable shift that can never be traced to a clear source; although sometimes it can and adjustments must be made. Traditional treatment is fueled by the western mentality that we must return ourselves and others to maximum function and productive capacity as soon as possible. The weapons of choice here are medications and some kind of oddly sterile and uncomfortable therapy sessions . The internal message that we are somehow broken and flawed is a powerful one. It takes an incredible amount of inner fortitude and unconditional reassurance to keep the circling wolves at bay.That we are beautiful, complex beings with oftentimes rare insights into the shadow side of life is an incongruous concept. It 's just so hard to watch someone have a hard time. It kind of puts a damper on things and makes it more difficult for everyone else to feel good, thus the innate attempt to coax someone out of their "mood". After years of struggling with my misfiring synapses and overactive serotonin uptake tendencies, i am growing to accept this struggle and have reached a place of reluctant coexistence with my brain/body/ wiring. I have also developed many mechanisms for survival , some of which consist of medication, therapy and reaching deep. Not unlike delving into my supple, worn, leather pouch of runes until my fingers brush up against that one particular cold and startling piece of stone that will speak to me. Slowly and with time, as i patiently sit with the pain , I will find my equilibrium . I will regain my footing and be planted once again on the path and resume my course .... so, i invite you to sit with me. No words even need be exchanged . Quiet and deep inner searching works for me. Hug me, accept me, read to me.... make me some tea and cover me with a blanket while i cry...... if you feel uncomfortable ; that's okay, it takes a lot of living to be at home with the full spectrum of the prism-like reflection of our reds, greens, and blues...

Frost Moon

Ahhh, the moon. The Mysterious Soulful Romantic pull of the moon. Rituals, werewolves, fairies.... a lunar calender for planting and harvesting..... fertility and birth....monthly cycles of menses. I do feel quite an affection for the moon actually. I love the nighttime hours. During the years I attended births I became well acquainted with the enveloping qualities of the night. I am by nature a night person. I love the stillness and the quiet. So, I will take third watch, dim the lights , turn down the thermostat, wrap up in a a blanket, step out and watch the moon as she rises in the sky.. I will listen to myself breathe. I will find perspective as I gaze into the sky and wonder of intelligent design . She is elusive, always changing, the lunar goddess....effecting the sea and its tides, quietly stimulating waiting mothers into labor.... when i look for her ,i don't see a man in the moon but the wise crone like face of a mother watching over the earth as her rhythms rock us to sleep. ~~~J~~~

Rooted

There is a meadow not far from my house where i often walk with my dog. This open expanse is not far from the edges of town but has the feel of a far away place where i am alone. October being one of my favorite months of the the year, I have tried to spend many early mornings there watching the leaves change and fall. Blowing leaves and gusting wind always stirs something within that seems to remind me that this is a season for lying low to the ground, letting go, blending in with the earth. I do feel very connected to the seasons and crave the darkness that is being ushered in by the autumnal months of October and November. These are months for reflection and incubation. I dig deeply into the well of creativity that lies buried, hidden beneath the noise and clamor of long lighter days . No doubt being born under the sign of Scorpio has influenced my affinity for this time of year.....i easily heed the call for repose while I know it is a struggle for many to settle.The shorter darker days satisfy my need for a window of time that can be focused toward a particular project or personal journey. Even as i write this, a strong SE wind has kicked up outside shaking the windows and tearing at the wind chimes. This creates an energy in the air that is palpable to my soul. Wind can be a call to move on or to make sure we are deeply rooted for now, for this season...and our work is to intuit the difference.

"Call Me Ishmael"

..... i belong to the water...to a boat...a wooden boat, a sailboat....she is out there i know; complete with the heady and intoxicating olfactory synergy of oil ,wood, deck lines, and damp wool sweaters that insulate the senses as you step below . A wood fired stove, hot tea for comfort and warmth for survival......... old diesel engine....coffee stained charts tucked away as reminders of voyages once had and those yet to come...... kerosene lanterns holding fast to their appointed stations on the cabin walls, slightly askew from the rolling of the swells under her solid and swollen hull. This boat knows herself so well she has long ago settled into who she is; she rocks and groans with pure pleasure as she makes her way through the water........ This intrinsic unspoken language of boats is formed of rogue wanderlust. Its haunting seductive lure calls from the docks , far out moorings and even the boatyards where these boats long to set sail and play among the waves. As the foghorn , lighthouse or buoy bell all join in the ancient mariners dance, these boats respond as to a mating call like an intrinsic primal compass. The alchemy between wood and water bears a primitive and essential link to the medieval sages who believed that these substances have mystical properties, almost like personalities. Its no wonder that Melville in his great American novel ,incites the spirit of Ishmael , defined as one who turns to the sea as an exile or social outcast; solitude is no stranger to those who love the long voyage. As just one lone soul within an extended community that shares an existential drive and desire to push just a little bit further towards the precipice....you can "call me Ishmael". Of course sometimes its fun just to hang out on boats.

* all descriptive passages are purely nautical *

For me this blog is an indulgence ; a way to see my life in pictures and words..a medium that helps me share my days with those to whom i want to remain connected. From careful intentional editing to blatant self exposure ; if you stick with a blog long enough you will find both and then it becomes a real life encounter...i try to strike a balance between expressing life as it is as well as how i wish it to be.... i love reading other blogs as well so please share if you find any that really speak to you. It has been said "We read to know we are not alone" ( C.S. Lewis).

Had a fire in my stone firepit last night. It was cool and the wind was calm. Caroline played banjo ,we roasted marshmallows and I saw a shooting star . Caroline's friend Josh, from North Carolina is here and we had an insightful discussion about life journeys and our hunger for truth . I am beginning to believe that our place in this life is much less complicated than we can imagine; not less important, just not as difficult as we seem to make it for ourselves.
Jon Michael has a friend here from Raleigh ( Austin) for two weeks...they are happy boys. Lots of x-box playing , eating, skateboarding and general noise; not concerned with the heavy things we adults were focused on. Tonight we will gather for a fire at Tremolo for the full moon....will take my kayak and Peak.
Tremolo ...call of the loon
"The haunting tremolo of the loon on a summer evening speaks of wild beauty and
independent spirit. No wonder we love our loons. These handsome birds, related to
the penguin and albatross, have been around much longer than other waterbirds —
some say their history goes back 20 million years".