17 January 2026

My Hands

 I looked at my hands today, really looked at them, 

remembering the grease burns from the Sunset Inn oil fryer 

when I ignored the stings and pushed through again and again and again

I looked at my hands and refelt stroking my children's so so soft hair when they fell asleep on my chest ; being sad and seeking comfort or when sick brushing damp hair from their fevereish foreheads. That ::smell:: that linked us before they were born in the world and I watched their impossibly tiny hands grasping my thumb. 

I looked at my hands and remembered how many people I grabbed onto not wanting to let them go until I had to. How many times I reached for my children in frustration and how I held my head in those hands and vowed to do better. 

I looked at my hands and felt how hard I dug those gardens, planted those trees, stuck them deep into the dirt ... 

I looked at my hands and put them up instinctively, defensively envisioning the past when I didn't want what was happening 

I look at my hands and I feel like creating

I look at my hands and I feel like singing

I look at my hands and I feel like crying, 

seeing my mother's hands after she died, laid folded on her stomach. Her hands in white gloves winning the sewing award, in mittens with her ice skates on posed in eternity, at the sink with a set grimace on her face at the frustration (I assumed) of raising five children in a military household,  reaching out to welcome everyone who came to her door, especially her grandchildren, and the forgetting of her precious beautiful hands in her last years, her nails chewed and dry... 

I look at my hands and open them. 

and then i cup my face in those hands and breathe <3 


11 December 2025

Time Space Peace Not Necessarily in that Order

 Waking up in winter in the silent and slow motionless pace 

ignoring the busy, have to, shop shop shop, lights ablaze,  old songs attempting to fence in 

all the expectation of what is supposed to be encircled instead in the beauty of what it is

time.

to blow smoke like the dragon within

space.

to see the perpetual universe in all my relations

peace.

to hear the silent pitch swallowed by snowflake multitudes 

Living now in this woke-white-privledged-by-birth-on-stolen-lands-Polish-Scottish-French-goodness-knows-what-else body honouring the truth. ancestry. culture. a long nowness still being unearthed, living now in December 2025 is painful. exquisite. 

Feeling duality at every turn of the spiral  


11 September 2025

The thing is ... we think we have time

 Seeing the white CR-V doesn’t punch my guts anymore 

Makes me sad momentarily and then I get on with all the other people whom I live in my life 

However long that life might be

I’m so blessed but feeling human ... I often take that for granted 

That the house won’t need repairing or wood need cutting or meals need making, that somehow I can reverse my ageing and go back to finish all the sewing, painting, writing, walking, hugging, phone calls 

But like rumi said (I think) “ the thing is we think we have time”

So here I am listening to the dog snore and writing it down 

Listening to the best of me spilling out My lovely human heart who so often doubts and wonders Full of curiousity and wanting to wander until I remember all of what waits in the action of doing the everyday. 

Lessons

 22June2025


white guys warring

fear rates soaring

to a place that invites Spirit to 

embrace or  to ignoring

all and diving into personal

hells to Death

to rebirth to

walking outside to

see lessons left by all Beings 

on a birdsong, in a breeze

7 September 2021

Letters for my Mother Julianne Marie

 16975250/5865399928079152281 


Where my butterfly heart flutters, 

trying to fly back to the Meadow 

back to your wide open arms, your Love, your smell, 

Bread baking, cabbage rolls, birthday candles and endless cups of Tea with honey,

your Twinkling eyes in my minds eye,

remembering your words to your own mother 

"I want her back the way she was" 

stomping my childish almost-53-year old Feet

to command the Universe to do as I will

And hearing no answer, giving it over Again. and Again. and Again. 

and Again.

whatever it means Today, because yesterday is gone and only my memories remain

yours lost, wandering, down those pale green hallways 

Here I sit, trying to be all spiritual and such 

Looking for the little miracles today

7 July 2020



Up late thinking of creation
something new to fill in the gaps of something dying
bit by bit
of my mother's face, dimming
with each video call

That only two weeks ago we shared the conspiracy
in laughing at the inside joke
loving each other simply by being


 









23 February 2019

The Water Walker

From the Facebook Post of Grandmother Sharon Day:


For Josephine Mandamin on behalf of water walkers

Ogima Ogitchidagkwe
M’dewanikwe
Ogima Ogitchidagkwe
M’dewanikwe
The nibi found in you
A true warrior
Ingah izitchigay nibi ohnjay
I will do it for the water
Ogima Ogitchidagkwe
M’dewanikwe
You are my hero

Listen to the nibi
She speaks if we will only listen
Swirling round and round
Waves breaking onto shore
She speaks if we will only listen
As she’s moving on downstream
She sings to us in wintertime
ice breaks on the frozen stream
Listen to the nibi
She speaks if we will only listen

Ogima Ogitchidagkwe
M’dewanikwe
Ogima Ogitchidagkwe
M’dewanikwe
We’ve learned so much from you
Of love and fierce devotion too
giiBimosaayan nibi ohnjay
we walked for the water
Ogima Ogitchidagkwe
M’dewanikwe Bidasigaye
You are my hero

SDay 2/22/19

11 January 2019

Reflections on Grief

“In the Lakota/Sioux tradition, a person who is grieving is considered most wakan, most holy. There's a sense that when someone is struck by the sudden lightning of loss, he or she stands on the threshold of the spirit world. The prayers of those who grieve are considered especially strong, and it is proper to ask them for their help.

You might recall what it's like to be with someone who has grieved deeply. The person has no layer of protection, nothing left to defend. The mystery is looking out through that person's eyes. For the time being, he or she has accepted the reality of loss and has stopped clinging to the past or grasping at the future. In the groundless openness of sorrow, there is a wholeness of presence and a deep natural wisdom.” - Tara Brach, True Refuge: Finding Peace and Freedom in Your Own Awakened Heart

Image Source: Facebook


8 December 2018

Mothers Day

I'm feeling the weight of Mothers Day today. The weight doesn't come from my mother, it comes from within me as a recovering Addict and alcoholic because in my active addiction I often chose drinking or using over the needs of my three children.

I live my amends for that every day but no day more than Mothers Day.

When my children were small, Mothers Day was mostly their Dad's responsibility: to get a card, or make and help deliver an interesting breakfast in bed, get something from the store, or wrap a special schoolmade item for my special day. I adored those times: everyone giggling and snuggling together in bed and talking over each other, telling me which breakfast item they Made or which handicraft was their Creation. Life wasn't always perfect, their father and I were not a good match but the kids were resilient and happy for the most part.

After the divorce my lifelong struggles with addiction worsened and my disease began whispering that surely my children were old enough (at 11, 14 and 17) to be left alone together while I lived the single, party-girl life. When my sons both decided to live with their father full-time, the addicted part of my brain consoled me again, drowning painful reality by checking me out of my life almost completely.

I left town for 6 months, justifying abandoning my youngest to live with her father full-time with the argument that I needed "space" to get my head together. I sold my house and blew the small profits I did make on more drugs and alcohol and constant "road trips".  I renamed myself with a brief-lived childhood nickname and became "Mickie" tied to a fantasy of a musician-hippie-bohemian lifestyle my 'addict' brain told me I could pull off at age 41.

That was the year I missed Mothers Day for the first time. The awkward Skype promises-apologies-repeat rhythm of those conversations still haunt me, filling me a guilt that is difficult to shake. What kind of mother did that make me?

It took me three more years to start answering that question.  I missed another Mothers Day #2 while in treatment for chemical dependancy. I remained in the grips of baffling, powerful and cunning disease. I was a mother who had no idea how to live life on life's terms, who had been running for so long I was full of fear about how to be clean and sober.  A mother who hadn't been consistently clean or sober for decades, except (barely) through most of her pregnancies.

After treatment, counselling, 12 Step meetings, thousands of conversations with fellow addicts in recovery, years of indigenous ceremonies and hard soul searching work I am coming to the realization that no amount of time that passes will erase the past. I am still working on forgiving myself for Mickie's mistakes and assumptions.

What kind of mother does that make me?  I think that makes me like alot of moms out there, not perfect, doing the best they can with what they have.  ❤ Michelle

started in May 2018
finished December 8 2018






 

Brigit Anna McNeill
We are approaching the threshold of winter.
Life is being drawn into the earth, painlessly descending down into the very heart of herself. 
And we as natural human animals are being called to do the same, the pull to descend into our bodies, into sleep, darkness and the depths of our own inner caves continually tugging at our marrow. 
But many find the descent into their own body a scary thing indeed, fearing the unmet emotions and past events that they have stored in the dark caves inside themselves, not wanting to face what they have so carefully and unkindly avoided. 
This winter solstice time is no longer celebrated as it once was, with the understanding that this period of descent into our own darkness was so necessary in order to find our light. That true freedom comes from accepting with forgiveness and love what we have been through and vanquishing the hold it has on us, bringing the golden treasure back from the cave of our darker depths.
This is a time of rest and deep reflection, a time to wipe the slate clean as it were and clear out the old so you can walk into spring feeling ready to grow and skip without a dusty mountain on your back & chains around your ankles tied to the caves in your soul. 
A time for the medicine of story, of fire, of nourishment and love.
A period of reconnecting, relearning & reclaiming of what this time means brings winter back to a time of kindness, love, rebirth, peace and unburdening instead of a time of dread, fear, depression and avoidance.
This modern culture teaches avoidance at a max at this time; alcohol, lights, shopping, overworking, over spending, bad food and consumerism. 
And yet the natural tug to go inwards as nearly all creatures are doing is strong and people are left feeling as if there is something wrong with them, that winter is cruel and leaves them feeling abandoned and afraid. Whereas in actual fact winter is so kind, yes she points us in her quiet soft way towards our inner self, towards the darkness and potential death of what we were, but this journey if held with care is essential.
She is like a strong teacher that asks you to awaken your inner loving elder or therapist, holding yourself with awareness of forgiveness and allowing yourself to grieve, to cry, rage, laugh, & face what we need to face in order to be freed from the jagged bonds we wrapped around our hearts, in order to reach a place of healing & light without going into overwhelm. 
Winter takes away the distractions, the noise and presents us with the perfect time to rest and withdraw into a womb like love, bringing fire & light to our hearth.
•illustration by Jessica Boehman•
•words Brigit Anna McNeill•


14 June 2018

Words from the earth

reciprocity floats up to me from paper pages and down from the Sun
From the Polish East and the traditional territories of the Semiahmoo and Qayqayt 
Land-ing and sowing Seeds that grow in my Gifts

by touching the earth, I continue

22 May 2018

Pre Fast - May 15 2018

“The earth is what I speak to when
I do not understand my life…

The earth answers me with the same song
That it sang for my fathers when
their tears covered up the sun.

The earth sings a song of gladness.
The earth sings a song of praise.

The earth rises up and laughs at me
Each time that I forget
How spring begins with winter
And death begins with birth.

When I look at ugliness, I see beauty.
When I am far from home,
I see my old friends.

When there is noise,
I hear a robin’s song instead.

When I am in a crowd,
it is the mountain’s peace that I feel.

In the winter of my sorrow,
I remember the summer of my joy.

In the nighttime of my loneliness,
I breathe the day of my thanksgiving.
But when sadness spreads its blanket
and that is what I see,
I take my eyes to some high place
until I find a reflection of
what lies deep inside me.”

~Nancy Wood from Many Winters


13 December 2017

Lamus Dworski : Night of the Witches in Polish Folklore

From Lamus Dworski

https://lamusdworski.wordpress.com/2017/12/11/night-of-the-witches/

Night of the Witches in Polish Folklore

Sabbath, reproduction of a lost artwork by Stanisław Ignacy Witkiewicz [source]
Wigilia dnia św. Łucji, noc czarownic – the Eve of St. Lucia Day (the night between the 12th/13th December), ‘the night of the witches’.
In the Polish folk beliefs the night preceding St. Lucia Day (the evening of 12th December) was traditionally believed to be a night of the witches’ gathering, a ‘boundary’ time when the earthly and otherworldly realms are getting much closer. It used to be commonly known as the ‘night of the witches’.
Snowstorms are a sign of the witches fighting for the power: for the leading role during the upcoming year. They are also coming close to the human settlements and it is extremely dangerous for both the people and the livestock to be outside on that night. It was forbidden for the kids or the young maidens to go out – the highlanders believed that they might get stolen. Mothers protected their newborns, often staying awake by their cradles for the whole night: their infant might be stolen and replaced with an odmieniec (changeling).
People feared also that the witches could throw charms on their cattle: for example cows might cease to give milk (which is the main food resource among many highlanders, used for producing cream, butter and cheese that are vital for survival during the winter season). People protected their wood: if some planks were stolen, they believed that the witches would later use them to cast dangerous spells during the Christmas night.
People believed that the places of the witches’ meetings on that night are certain geological points of unique features. For example, it could be a place where three streams are coming together (as believed in the village of Sołonka) or a clear-cut edge of a forest. It could also be a location where borders between certain clearly designated areas are relatively close to each other, like a field between two villages that are located not far one from another.
People protected themselves in many ways. It was common to fasten thorns and protective herbs to the doorsteps of the houses and to the tresholds to the barns, and inside the buildings. It was extremely important to remember what kinds of herbs and in which locations did one leave the bundles: if there was something new, it meant a witch had sneaked into the property and left a cursed bouquet. In some areas the cattle was ‘bathed’ in smoke from garlands that had been blessed on the Day of the Divine Mother of Herbs earlier that year. Wise men and wise women were whispering calming speels to the ears of the livestock.
Those beliefs were found among Polish villagers from numerous regions across Poland, but they were particularly vivid in the culture of the regions north to the ranges of the Tatra Mountains and some parts of the Beskidy Mountains, and a lot of tales about that special night survived in the folktales of the highlanders from the northern slopes of Babia Góra (meaning literally: Mountain of the Crones). Most of the Polish Górale (higlanders) living in those mountainous parts of southern Poland had a particularly strong belief in the ‘night of the witches’, shaped quite literally by the local geographical conditions. That night marked the time when the Sun starts sinking so low above the horizon that it hides behind the local mountains quite early in the afternoon and makes the night much longer for the local highlanders this way.
The next day – 13th December – was seen as the best for divinations. For example, in many villages young girls were ripping off a cherry branch and putting it into a vase in their rooms. If the branch bloomed by the beginning of January, it was a good sign for the upcoming year: designating a marriage, prosperity or general success. The 12 days until Christmas were closely observed: each day predicted events or weather for a respective month in the upcoming year.

Polish sources for further reading:

15 June 2017

Reflections on the North / Hargrave

Excerpts from: Reflections on the Medicine Wheel
http://urbanmanmedicine.blogspot.ca/2014/08/reflections-on-medicine-wheel.html

Reflections on the North:

Once or twice in a lifetime
A man or woman may choose
A radical leaving, having heard
Lech l'cha — Go forth.

God disturbs us toward our destiny
By hard events
And by freedom's now urgent voice
Which explode and confirm who we are.

We don't like leaving,
But God loves becoming.

by Rabbi Norman Hirsh


Stepping into the North is a choice. Whereas the North is about mystery, soul, unravelling and the shadow, in the North we are now beginning to build. In the North we find that notions of accountability, integrity, strength, responsibility and resilience carry more meaning. In the North we come face to face with real limitations and the importance of our choices. 

When asked by St. Patrick how the Fianna has survived their hardships, Oisin gave an answer the epitomizes the spirit of the initiated adult of the North, "With the truth in our hearts, the strength of our arms and the promise of our lips."

The North is about Winter and, in winter, the sap goes to the roots of trees. It's a time where grounding is needed. 

The North is the home of firm decisions, clarity of choice, claiming things instead of waffling, firm boundaries and the ability to say 'no'. Working towards a definite goal and making it happen. Creating space for what matters most.

In a healthy South, we want what we want and our needs are taken care of. We aren't even really aware we have needs. In the West we begin to see what our real needs are (the things that truly matter in life as we begin to lose them) but we also find our original self in the West but, until we are initiated, we may not find a vision of how we might best give ourself and our gifts to the community. In the West we become aware of our neediness but in the North it also comes into our consciousness that we are deeply needed. Life ceases to become about us and our own pleasure. We see what is needed in the community and are called into a much larger role which asks us to grow into something more than we were. 

The North is where we learn to take care of ourselves first so that we can take care of others. In the modern world, it's where we put on our own oxygen mask before we help someone else to put on theirs.

In the North, we move into Kingship. We move into service to the community and family. A symbol of the King is the crown. The crown is often very heavy. And it's heavy because the responsibility can be heavy sometimes and it's there to remind us of that.

Kingship is about the most profound level of self care so we can be the most full expression of ourself. The King stays firmly in their own business and handles it impeccably. They leave other people's business to them and wastes no energy there.

The North is where we affirm what matters most to sustaining life and to affirming our commitment to those things in the community.

The North is also a place where vision becomes more important. 

"May a good vision catch me May a benevolent vision take hold of me, and move me May a deep and full vision come over me, and burst open around me May a luminous vision inform me, enfold me. May I awaken into the story that surrounds, May I awaken into the beautiful story. May the wondrous story find me; May the wildness that makes beauty arise between two lovers arise beautifully between my body and the body of this land, between my flesh and the flesh of this earth, here and now, on this day, May I taste something sacred." ~ David Abram

The element of the North is the wind. And it makes me think of the North wind which blows so bitterly cold. To survive the North wind, we need to build structures that can protect us and withstand those winds. This is something that only the adults can do (and must do for the children and the elders).

The element of the East is fire and you can't keep a fire burning without protection from the wind and yet a fire also needs air and space to burn. So, in moving into adulthood, we are creating space for the sacred fires to burn and protecting them. Making sure they get the air they need to burn but that they are not blown out by the wind. 

Bill Plotkin writes about how adulthood begins with learning our Survival Dance and then, once we have learned that, we begin to learn our Sacred Dance. 

Initiation is the creation of an adult personality that is strong enough to hold spirit (a strong ego, not a big one). Only a personality capable of withstanding the cold realities of life is strong enough to receive the sacred fire of the East. If you can't protect that fire from the wind, it will be blown out. In the West, we discover the shape that the water of our soul wants to take and in the North we craft the vessel to hold it like that. 

When people emerge from the West and try to skip the North to jump straight to the transcendental oneness of the East it would be like the roots of a tree trying to skip the trunk to get to the branches. Without the North, we lack the character and structure to receive spirit. 

Cultures are like this too. Carefully erected structures to protect the heart of a culture from being blown out. It is why the leading cause of addiction is the loss of our indigenous culture which is what feeds and protects our indigenous souls.  And it is why many of the most successful treatments of addiction in indigenous cultures is about reconnecting them with their cultures. Culture is the cure. 

Winter is a lean time and it teaches us about survival. And survival can teach us to be generous. There's an old Gaelic seanfhacal (proverb) which says, "'Is ann an uair as gain' am biadh as còir a roinn." which translates as "Tis when food is scarcest it should be divided."

But, of course, this isn't all just esoteric. The North is where we learn and master the very practical skills of survival - how to feed and shelter ourselves, how to get our needs met and help others meet their needs. In modern culture, this shows up as how to get and keep a job, make money and start a business. In a more traditional culture, it might be how to hunt, garden, preserve foods and more. 

In the West, we become overwhelmed with our feelings. But in the North, we see that our feelings are like the weather. They come and they go. They change all the time. But we still do what we need to do to take care of the children.

Again, the true self is born in the cocoon of the West. But it isn't fully born until it comes out of the cocoon in the North. The North is the birthplace of our true self in the world. And it is a decision we must make. 

The North is about survival. Part of this is about protecting ourselves and others from our own worst personal demons. The attitude in the North is one of profound humility and acknowledgment of the profound amount of support that we need and how interconnected we all are. In the North, we are vulnerable in a new way and see our own limitations much more clearly. We admit to being a mess when and where we are - but we also claim our power where we have it and don't pretend to be powerless or without knowledge. 

Whereas the West is a time of solitude and reflection (even if we are being held by a community) the North calls for collaboration with others and for the acknowledgement of the depth of our dependency on everything. 

"We are dependent on help for everything. Our trillions of cells all need to do their thing to keep us alive. The world needs to keep producing oxygen, and rain, and all the things that keep the crops growing and us breathing. There's nothing we can truly do alone, and asking for help is really just acknowledging what is already true: we're not independent in any way whatsoever." - Mark Silver 

"Nothing naturally occurring in this world depends on human beings for its life. Humans are not a mandatory part of the natural order's health or ways. On the other hand, our capacity to live at all requires the interdependence of all those other things, and so our debt to what gives us life is greater than that borne by any other living thing. Human life means what it means because of how life is, of which humans are a small and deeply indebted, dependant part. We are the heirs to the meaning of life and not its creators, from an indigenous perspective." ~ Stephen Jenkinson

In the North, we parent our own inner child so that the community doesn't need to bear the burden of our own neglectful parenting. Others may help out, but it is still our child. If we feel incomplete inside ourselves, we don't seek to make it complete by taking something from the outside world, from others as a child would. We hold that child. When we feel lonely and empty, we tend to it directly instead of acting from it. We ask for help and support respectfully, instead of trying to take what we need stealthfully. 

In the North, we begin to notice the things the weaken us or cause us fear or shame and thus make us vulnerable to things that could harm us and step back from doing them. We not only take responsibility for what we do, but the way we set situations up that make it more likely we would do things that are harmful to us or the community. If we know we are prone to snacking on cake late at night, we don't have cake in our homes. If we know we are prone to addictions, we steer clear of situations where might find those substances. 

In the North, we not only become better at cleaning up messes and making amends but in ceasing to make messes in the first place. 

In the South, as Virginia Satir put it, "the child wants what they want when they want it" but, in the North the adult, "wants what they want... but they're willing to wait". 

In the South, and even into the West, we are vulnerable. In the North, we now protect the vulnerable. 

In the West, we seek to find our edginess in risky behaviour but in the North we feel into how badass it is to know and have decided who we are. In the North, there's a healthy balance between knowing the importance of protecting our reputation and an, "I don't give a fuck what you think of me." The solidness people feel from an initiated adult is that they are done experimenting with who they are at their core - they have now decided and claimed it. It is hard to let go of the West but the beauty of it is, we get to choose how we want to be an adult. It doesn't have to be dull or boring (unless that is what we want). In the West there's so much angst, but in a healthy initiated North, we have decided and settled into it - we radiate a deep comfort in our own skin. An initiated adult has a strong sense of presence, appreciation, wholeness, and play.

Adding the North doesn't take anything away from the West, it just adds another important layer. We never say goodbye to the West, we only stop living there. Just as we never need to say goodbye to the South, we just stop living there.

As my dear mentor and friend John Robbins put it, "I always think there’s a difference between childish behaviour and thinking, and childlike behaviour and thinking. Maybe it’s just semantics, but the distinction has helped me. “Childish” to me is indulgent, defiant, petulant, helpless and acquiescent. “Childlike” to me is playful, creative, spontaneous, happy, and connected in a positive way to the spirit world." 

“My wish has always been to write my own story, to create a life that’s worth writing about.” - Charlotte Eriksson

The energy of the North is initially the energy of decision. We decide to become an adult and cut ourselves off from our childhood and old ways of being and doing things. The word decision comes from the Latin roots de and caedere which literally mean 'to cut off from'. This is supposed to be a scary process. You are killing off your old self.

But this doesn't have to just be a morbid experience full of loss. Your old and small self has to die - so give it a magnificent, lavish funeral. Your initiation isn't just about mourning. It's about celebrating and praising your old self for all it managed to accomplish. It's a time to feast on your regrets and shames and harvest the learnings that have come from them. Before you lay the old self down, honour it fully. Give thanks to all of it. In this way, your old self gets to do what none of us get to do at the end of our lives, your old self gets to attend its own funeral. There's the old admonishment, 'don't get bitter, get better'. If we remain stuck in the West, we become bitter. But if we move to the North, we have a chance to become better.

A fear of leaving the West is that we will lose our wildness. But, in truth, the stronger and deeper our sense of self is, the stronger a container we have for our wildness - we simply become less careless in our wildness and more authentic (which is the heart of what wildness is). Initiated wildness gives life. Uninitiated wildness destroys it. 

A feral animal is not a wild animal. It is an animal that was domesticated and then released back into the wild (or one of its cubs). And they are dangerous. A wild cougar will kill only to eat. But a ferral animal will kill just to kill. The feral animal is the unitiated one. This is true of humans too. 

The uninitiated North is always hiding its unresolved West - the shadow. So much effort goes into hiding these parts of us and we end up feeling totally alone and isolated. I think that some of the most important medicine here is to start telling the truth about our struggles; to stop posturing and pretending that everything is okay. Vulnerability and openness work much better than being sneaky and trying to get away with things (which is what a child does). 

In the North we find our self love, self respect and self trust. And this is vital, we must trust ourselves if we are to survive. If you look at a bird sitting out on a very thin branch, you might wonder to yourself, 'how does it trust in the branch not to break?'. But, of course, that is the wrong question. Because it's not trusting in the branch. It's trusting in its wings. 

"Many people misunderstand the concept of safety. They think they can gain it by protecting themselves from other people or choosing safe people. Safety actually occurs when we learn to trust our ability to take care of ourselves." - Mary MacKenzie

But, as much as we might come to trust ourselves, we come to accept that we may never truly know our whole selves. We know our heart is too vast to explore all of. And we've come to see that the point of life isn't the manic exploration of every possibility but about following the impulses and yearnings of the soul and trusting it will take us to the places inside of us and in the world that are truly worth exploring.

The element of the North is the wind. But it's not just the cold North wind we must survive, it's also the wind from our lungs that produces our voice which must be cultivated. The North is where we find and use our voice in the appreciation and celebration of life. 

Medicine Needed in the North: The medicine most needed in the North is education and mentorship. We need maps and context about how the world really is. 

"All through school and university I had been given maps of life and knowledge on which there was hardly a trace of many of the things that I most cared about and that seemed to me to be of the greatest possible importance to the conduct of my life.  I remember that for many years my perplexity had been complete; and no interpreter had come along to help me.  It remained complete until I ceased to suspect the sanity of my perceptions and began, instead, to suspect the soundness of the maps."  -- EF Schumacher

If we are to escape the pull of the West, we need the energy of the North. But to muster up the energy of the final pushes of the labour of our authentic selves, it is helpful to have trust in what's coming next. We need good maps because maps are, ultimately, about how to survive and thrive in the world. But children don't create maps. Initiated adults and elders do. They help us understand where we are in the world in relation to everything else and where we are going. The Medicine Wheel is a map. The seven chakras are a map. Old stories and myths are also maps. 

To feed the North is someone, it is good to be very honest with them. To help ground them in reality. It's good to praise them for their contributions to the community and affirm that their gifts are needed. It's good to call for their gifts to be given.  

The North is a time to learn and apprentice in the practical skills of survival in this world. It's a time we need to be mentored on our craft (until we become a mentor).

Whereas personal growth and professional development books can be toxic in the West, they can be tonic in the North.



7 May 2017

On Aging - Maya Angelou

“When you see me sitting quietly, like a sack upon a shelf,
Don’t think I need your chattering. I’m listening to myself.
Hold! Stop! Don’t pity me! Hold! Stop your sympathy!
Understanding if you got it, otherwise I’ll do without it!
When my bones are stiff and aching and my feet won’t climb the stair,
I will only ask one favor: Don’t bring me no rocking chair.
When you see me walking, stumbling, don’t study and get it wrong.
‘Cause tired don’t mean lazy and every goodbye ain’t gone.
I’m the same person I was back then, a little less hair, a little less chin,
A lot less lungs and much less wind.
But ain’t I lucky I can still breathe in.”
– Maya Angelou

21 March 2017



waiting for the dawn
 a tourist visiting the foreign soil of my heartbeat
spinning futures like I have the power to change any
hoping to see a commitment
in myself today, something different,
shifting, with the solstice

20 December 2016



do i prefer to hide inside this plastic box
that spews crisis and beauty to bury myself under
turning me from where Winter and Summer
ripple and swell at the doorway

Letting Noise take over the Silence
where I have to face myself, my limited capacity
and my infinite possibilities
Brave the darkness to see the Light

And worries are tossed aside
thoughts may be spoken, written
through art is healing and I am an artist of words
nature calls

(Seems there are still ways to lose myself
Slow moving days the proof itself
that in plugging the jug and flushing the pot
i can still find new ways of rot)

19 December 2016

Polish Winter Customs & Traditions

From: http://sonsofpoland.org/culture-community/polish-customs-traditions/
Koljada (kohl-YAH-da) – Winter Solstice
Most sources agree that koljada comes from the Roman word “calendae” which refers to the first 10 days of any month. Others believe the word is derived from “Kolo” or wheel – much like the word “Yule” is an Anglo-Saxon word for wheel. In the English language, Yuletide refers to the Christmas season and is used even in contemporary Christmas songs. The holiday of Winter Solstice may have originally been called “Ovsen”.
The Winter Solstice festival was filled with revelry. Processions of people masked like animals and dressed in costumes roamed the village. Often they were accompanied by a “goat’s head,” usually hand-made and placed on a stick. The person holding the goat’s head on a stick would then be covered with a blanket to give the illusion of a “goat person.” Sometimes a child—symbolic of the reborn sun—would accompany them seated on a horse played by two men in a horse costume. One of the pageant participants would carry a spinning solar symbol lit from within by a candle. Later, after Christianity entered the scene, the spinning “sun” became a star.
This group of revelers would go from house to house and stop to sing Koljada songs. These songs usually included invocations to the god or goddess of the holiday, praises and good wishes to those who listened, requests for gifts and threats if refused. The gifts were also called “koljada” and usually took the form of little pastries or “korovki” shaped like cows or goats. The grandmothers and grandfathers traditionally baked these “korovki.” The actions played against those who would not give rewards could be brutal. Garbage might be brought from all over the village and piled in front of the offending host’s gate, their gate might be torn off and thrown in the nearest water or livestock could be led off. One of the carolers would carry a bundle of hazel twigs and after receiving their “koljada” would gently hit his host/ess with a small stick loudly wishing happiness and health in the coming New Year. The small twig was then left with the farmer who nailed it above his door for wealth and protection.
Bonfires were sometimes lit, and the dead ancestors were invited inside to warm themselves. Mock funerals were held where a person pretending to be dead was carried into the house amidst both laughter and feigned weeping. A young girl would be chosen and traditionally would kiss the “corpse” on the lips. The “corpse” would leap up after being kissed—a symbol of rebirth. Holiday foods included kutia, a food consisting of whole grains, a universal symbol of new life, and pork.
On the last day of the koljada season in Poland, all the unmarried men of the village would get together to go begging for oats. Since it was impossible to get rid of them with just a scoop of oats, the farmer would need to keep a sharp eye on his grain that night, because otherwise the carolers would steal it as part of the evening’s custom. The men would then sell the oats and with the money would hire musicians and organize a large dance party in the village during the pre-Spring festival period.
Wigilia (Vee-GEE-lya) — Christmas Eve Dinner
Wigilia or Wilia is from the Latin word vigilare, which means to watch, or Czuwać in Polish. Close to the heart of every Pole, it is filled with such mystical symbolism that it is considered by many to be a greater holiday than Christmas itself.
December 24th had much significance centuries before Christ’s birth. It followed the longest night and the shortest day and the mystical symbolism associated with it was closely tied to the solar system. In early Poland the word Wigilia was formerly known as the day before a feast day. Today it is used only as the day before Christ’s birth. The Wigilia supper is the most special, and there is no other like it throughout the year.
With severe cold weather and deep snows, most Polish families hold their festivities within each family group. A custom from the past encompassed the belief that spirits permeated the home on this day. They were to be made as comfortable as possible since this day would prophesize everything that was to happen in the coming year. Everyone was careful of his/her conduct. They were to rise early, say their prayers, wash thoroughly, dress and then peacefully and patiently attend to the work at hand.
Preparations for Christmas Eve began right after midnight. A young girl from the family would go to the nearest stream and bring water to be used to sprinkle on the cows in the barn and also on the family, awakening them in this manner. It was believed that water on this day had the power to heal and prevent illness and later the entire family would wash themselves in this water.
The males in the family would go into the forest and bring back the top of a spruce or fir and other branches to decorate the house. This top of the evergreen tree was hung from a beam in the ceiling, with the tip facing down over the table where the Wigilia supper was to be held.
To prepare for this most important meal of the year, the table is first covered with straw or hay, and then with a white tablecloth. The blessed opłatek is placed on the best plate of the house. The youngest child is sent out to look for the first star in the sky and the Wigilia meal begins. Those sitting down to eat must add up to an even number, otherwise someone would not live to the next Christmas Eve supper. To prevent this from happening, someone was always invited, be it an honored guest or a wandering beggar. It mattered little whether a family was of noble station or peasant, traditional dishes were served and often with the same pageantry. One of the traditional dishes was kutia,which was made from hulled barley or wheat, cooked and sweetened with honey to which mashed poppy seeds, raisins and nuts were added. The dish was set down in a place of honor near the Wigilia table and it was the first to be eaten. Wigilia is a meatless dinner with an uneven number of dishes served; 13 being the preferred number as it represents the number that sat down at the Last Supper. Various fish comprise the main fare. Many households also prepare a great variety of accompanying dishes reflecting the produce of the family’s harvest such as borscht with uszka (dumplings), matjas (herring), makowiec (poppy seed cakes), nut rolls, dried fruits (apples, plums, apricots, dates, etc.) and salads. Certain regions have more specific offerings, and some include edible Christmas ornaments.
After supper the family would sing carols and exchange gifts, which were deposited by the Aniołek (angel) under the Christmas tree. The Gospodarz, or head of the family, would light the candles on the tree, and the smoke from them foretold the future. The period approaching midnight was a magical time. The children would give the leftover bits of the Christmas wafer to the animals, who, if you listened carefully, would talk. Even well water turned to wine. Now it was time to get ready to attend Pasterka (Midnight Mass), meaning the Shepherd’s Mass, as they were first to greet the newborn Christ Child. Everyone would hike through the dark of the night in freezing weather or ride in sleighs to their local churches. On the way to the Mass, they counted as many stars as there were in the heavens, which would indicate how many sheaves of grain would be harvested the next year.