Presence

I have been thinking a lot about witnessing and presence. In what ways do we witness others? It what ways are we seen?

Others, of course, is not limited to humans in our shamanic worldview. The picture above is a state park in Vermont where I watched the total solar eclipse last year. I was immediately taken with the mountains when we arrived. They seemed to circle around the hill where people had gathered, holding and supporting the group. Too often, we fail to stop and notice what is around us, and who is there to support us.

How many times have you felt held by nature? How often to do really feel the support of your helping spirits? It's hard, in our busy society, to stop and notice. And since our relationships with our spirits are based on reciprocity--how often do you hold space with nature? How often to you join with your spirits to witness someone else, in all of their joy and grief?

It's a beautiful thing to be in awe of nature, but with our shamanic skills, we can take it a step further, and be in relationship, even for a few moments. There is so much power in this witnessing.

See if, in the heat of summer, you can take a few moments and stop and be with what is around you. Do you feel seen? Do you really see?

Responsibility

Last month, I wrote about presence. This month, what is on my heart is the connected idea of responsibility.

In architecture, an arch is a far more powerful structure than a doorway with right angles. The roundness of the shape allows the blocks to lean on each other and support each other, allowing the archway to hold far more than any of the blocks could on their own. So it is with a circle. The members of the circle, together, hold the space. The power of the circle is far stronger than the power of each of the individuals. I was taught that every circle we form continues in nonordinary reality after the circle is opened and the people disperse.

It does not take significant experience to participate in holding the circle in this way. What it does take is responsibility. We have a responsibility to hold our attention, our intention, and our compassion in circle--we do this for the benefit of the people next to us, and not for ourselves. When we are able to take responsibility for supporting the people next to us, we have to trust that they are also supporting us.

I am fascinated (and saddened) by two opposing forces in our culture today: what I call "toxic individuality" and what I will call "toxic passenger-ship" (I just made that up!). In toxic individuality, we see spiritual teachings as being for ourselves, and only for our own development, rather than to help our communities. Excessive individuality causes us to lose our sense of responsibility for each other. In toxic passenger-ship, we expect our development to happen to us, rather than recognizing the essential relationship between ourselves, our teacher(s), and our compassionate helping spirits. In this passenger-ship, we lose the sense of responsibility for ourselves.

I say all of this with great compassion. Our culture's disconnection from the spiritual world has caused our collective to develop these unhealthy coping mechanisms in order to survive a society that lacks essential reciprocal relationship. It can be difficult, even painful, to begin to see how we have collectively abdicated our responsibility. But I have never been promised by my own teachers that spiritual progression would be easy, and I do not promise that to anyone I teach. The work will sometimes be difficult, and will sometimes bring up things in ourselves we would rather not face. That is the work. In order to stand fully in our power, in order to take responsibility, we must recognize where we have given our power away. Taking responsibility is reclaiming power. That, too, is the work.

Spring is springing

Spring is springing!

This picture was taken by my mother, on one of her walks along the Connecticut River. I'm no beaver expert, but this beaver appears to me to be pregnant. I learned that beavers mate in the winter, gestate for 120 days, and give birth in the late spring. How fascinating it is that even in the middle of winter, they can feel the upcoming shift in the seasons.

I start to notice it myself in early February, as the days get a little bit longer. While I am not preparing my lodge for kits (baby beavers), I am in a flurry of activity. This time of year is when travel and teaching pick up for me. The shifts are all around us, if we pay attention to them. I receive more contact from others around this time too, as do many of my colleagues in helping professions. Even thought humans don't hibernate, we are one with nature, and our bodies shift with the seasons, even if we don't realize it.

I have learned to honor these shifts in myself. Our modern world coaxes us into constant activity, and away from seasonality. But we are a part of the natural world, and the natural world always shifts. I encourage you to honor the shifts in yourself, and move with them. If your body asks for more activity, honor it. If it asks for more rest, honor it. By honoring our own needs, we can learn to be more in tune with nature's shifts and changes.

To start, we have only to pay attention.