Awakening in the Catskills

The Power of Place

There are moments in life when we stumble upon threads of our history so powerful they seem to reach across time, knitting us into the fabric of those who came before us. My recent journey through the Catskills was just such a moment—a DNA awakening in the truest sense.

The call of these mountains has always been close to my heart, but this time, as I walked the woods near old family farms, it was as if I were moving through layers of memory. With each step, I felt my feet touching the soil and the echo of my ancestors' steps, overlapping with my own. The air, crisp and quiet, whispered stories long-forgotten but still alive in the veins of those who listen closely enough. These were my family’s woods—the places they once labored, laughed, and lived—and I was here, decades and generations later, breathing in the same air.

One of the most powerful stops was at an ancient wooden church, weathered but dignified, standing tall as it must have for centuries. It was easy to imagine distant relatives gathering here, offering prayers, seeking strength and community, possibly even holding their children up for blessings as I felt their essence brushing by me. In that quiet sanctuary, I sensed their spirits, a soft murmur in the walls and a resonance that held me in profound stillness. This was sacred ground—not only for the faithful but for me, as it awakened some deep-rooted understanding that defies words.

As I stood by the Hudson River, my hand dipping into its cold, steady waters, the experience felt almost mythic. The sight of its sweeping flow shook something inside me; it was a homecoming. The water, rushing around my fingers, was both familiar and astonishing, as if it had been waiting for me all along. In that moment, there was a recognition—a knowing so deep it brought tears to my eyes. This river, this powerful force carving its way through New York's landscape, had also shaped my family’s story. They too must have felt its power, let it anchor them, and maybe even trusted it to carry their dreams along its current.

The Catskills are no longer just a beloved place of beauty for me; they are something richer, deeper, alive with the rhythms of my past. I returned feeling altered, with a sense of grounding that has rewired my very DNA. There is a quiet, yet indelible, knowing now—a connection that I will carry forward with reverence, gratitude, and a deeper understanding of the land, family, and stories that live within me.

Little Joys

 This morning, as I sat in my home office, deep in thought, Lulu made her entrance with the quiet majesty only she could muster. Her bright blue eyes gleamed with purpose, and in her mouth was a delicate red dragonfly, its wings still fluttering. She chirped proudly, her soft purr rising in the still air as she presented her living gift. I paused, admiring her offering, knowing she awaited my full appreciation.

Kneeling beside her, I murmured my thanks. Lulu's purring grew even louder, a soft hum of satisfaction. Her eyes flicked between me and the dragonfly as if to say, “See what I’ve brought you? Aren't I clever?” After a few moments of shared admiration, she gave a tiny nod and a slow blink, clearly pleased with my gratitude. With that, she padded over to a sunbeam streaming through the window, curling up into a contented ball, her task complete.

I cradled the dragonfly gently in my hands, feeling the delicate hum of its wings. Standing by the open window, I watched it catch the breeze as I released it, its crimson form darting into the world beyond. 

Lulu, now basking in the sunlight, was already dreaming while the dragonfly danced away into the day. Our quiet exchange was complete in the soft rhythm of home and nature—a perfect example of the beauty in simple moments. 

A Bat A Day Brings Fortune Your Way

 

I'd been housesitting for dear friends who were away on vacation. Their home was nestled amidst the lush woods and shoreline of an Olympia, Washington exurb. I was enjoying the peaceful solitude, the company of her four golden retrievers and one Siberian cat, and the serene sounds of nature. 

It was a warm summer evening, and as I was preparing to watch a movie, I heard a strange, low moan from the living room. At first, I thought it was a stray cat from the nearby woods. But when I heard it again a little later, I decided to investigate. As I approached the living room, I was greeted by a sight I'll never forget: a confused and frightened bat flying down the hallway. The dogs watched with curiosity, unsure what to make of this unexpected visitor.

I knew I had to remain calm and encourage the bat to leave peacefully. I closed off any rooms it could fly into, turned off the house lights except for the back and front porch lights, and opened the back and front doors. Then, I sat across the doorway and waited.

After what felt like an eternity, I no longer saw the bat flying or its shadow. I closed the doors and cautiously explored the house. It was gone. Ten minutes later, while walking the dogs, the bat made a surprise appearance. It swooped low towards us and then soared up over the house. It was as if it were giving a silent thank you.

Have you ever had a bat flutter into your home? While most people might react with a shriek or a slam of the door, there are actually some intriguing folklore beliefs that paint bats in a more positive light. Let's explore some of these myths and superstitions.

Good Luck and Protection

• Guardian Spirits: In many cultures, bats are considered guardians or protectors. They are often associated with the night and the unseen world, and their presence is seen as a sign of spiritual guidance.
• Dream Catchers: Bats are sometimes thought to be natural dream catchers, filtering out negative energy and nightmares. Their ability to fly freely through the night is seen as a symbol of spiritual freedom.

Wealth and Prosperity

• Money Magnets: In some traditions, bats are considered to be symbols of wealth and prosperity. The bat's ability to hang upside down represents the accumulation of riches.
• Financial Fortune: If a bat enters your home, it may be a sign of good fortune and financial gain. Some people even believe that the direction the bat flies into the house can indicate the source of the wealth.

Longevity and Wisdom

• Eternal Life: In certain cultures, bats are associated with longevity and eternal life. Their ability to live for many years is seen as a sign of wisdom and resilience.
• Spiritual Growth: The bat's nocturnal lifestyle is often connected to the subconscious mind and spiritual growth. Its presence can be interpreted as a reminder to delve deeper into your inner self.

While it's important to note that these are just folklore beliefs and superstitions, there's no denying the fascination that bats have held for people throughout history. Should a bat make an unexpected visit to your home, consider it a potential sign of good luck, protection, or spiritual growth.

A Day of Divine Inspiration

Today, I am a vessel filled to overflowing. Calliope, the muse of epic poetry, has claimed me as her own. Words cascade from my fingertips like a waterfall, carving out a path through the uncharted territories of my mind. It is a heady, exhilarating experience, this state of heightened creativity. Ideas coalesce with astonishing rapidity, each thought sparking a new constellation of possibilities.

I am deeply grateful for the quiet support of my partner, Callie, whose name is a gentle echo of my muse. With uncanny intuition, she anticipates my needs, providing sustenance and solace with nary a spoken word. Tea appears as if by magic, a warm embrace for my soul, and a small plate of protein grounds me amidst the ethereal heights of inspiration. This balance between creative fervor and the demands of daily life is a delicate dance. It is in these instances that Callie's grace shines brightest. She understands the ebb and flow of my creative process, offering patience and encouragement when I emerge, blinking, into the light. 

In these shared moments of creation and companionship, I find a profound sense of gratitude. Understanding, acceptance, and compassion are the bedrock of our relationship, allowing us to flourish individually and together. Today, as I bask in the afterglow of a day spent in the company of the muses, I am reminded of the importance of these qualities in fostering a life rich in creativity and love.

Turning Information Into Insight

    As I sat down to compile my copious notes for my latest project, I was transported back to a memorable moment from graduate school. It was late at night, the library almost deserted except for a few fellow night owls, each of us lost in our worlds of research and the quiet hum of academic discovery. I remember that sense of overwhelm as I faced the sheer volume of information I needed to synthesize into a coherent piece of writing. Pages of notes lay scattered around me, and articles were highlighted in a rainbow of colors. How was I ever going to bring it all together?

But then, as I stared at the chaos, something clicked.

Writing is a craft that goes beyond the mere presentation of facts; it’s about weaving these facts into a narrative that offers new insights and perspectives. It’s about finding that golden thread that connects disparate ideas and transforms them into a cohesive argument. Picture it like solving a puzzle where each piece, however small, is crucial to the final picture. Every quote, every statistic, and every concept is a vital part of the story you’re telling.

The thrill of discovery keeps me going—the moment when a fresh perspective emerges, and the project begins to write itself. Suddenly, what seemed impossible becomes a fascinating challenge. It’s the joy of contributing to a larger conversation and knowing that my work can spark new ideas and inspire others. The narrative starts to flow, each part naturally leading to the next, until a tapestry of understanding is woven together.

What makes writing so rewarding is its potential impact. Your work becomes a part of the ongoing dialogue within your field, offering insights that can challenge the status quo or open up new avenues for exploration. It is a reminder of the power we have as writers and researchers to influence thought and inspire change.

So, to all fellow writers and researchers, whether you’re sitting down with a blank page or knee-deep in revisions, remember that each draft and every document is a journey. Embrace the process, trust your instincts, and celebrate each breakthrough, no matter how small. Writing is not just a task but an opportunity to connect with others and expand our understanding of the world.

In the words of the great novelist E.L. Doctorow, "Writing is an exploration. You start from nothing and learn as you go." Each sentence we craft is a step on that journey, and with each step, we uncover new paths to knowledge.

Happy writing! May your words flow effortlessly and your discoveries be profound.

Fresh Air, Fresh Ideas

 

Writing is an ever-evolving journey that often takes unexpected turns and unveils new paths to explore. This journey becomes even more special when it's shared with someone who supports and nurtures your creative spirit. For me, that someone is my partner, Callie, who constructed a cozy covered deck just off our bedroom, a space where my mind expands and my words find their home.

This deck, lovingly referred to as my "deck o' fice," is a sanctuary where I can immerse myself in my writing. The deck boasts a salvaged rocker, perfect for those moments when I need to rock my thoughts into coherence. A faded red boho rug lies on the wooden floor in front of a chiminea, where many a ritual fire has been burned, releasing what is needed, extending our offerings, and sending our hopes and dreams skyward in plumes of fragrant smoke.

The overhang frame is adorned with hanging faceted crystals, wind chimes that sing in the breeze, and candle lanterns that cast a warm, inviting glow in the evening. As I sit here, I am surrounded by the beauty of nature—majestic cedars and firs, vibrant Oregon grape, and resilient Nootka roses. A wooded path winds its way through this haven, leading to a serene lake where eagles call to their young and glide effortlessly through the tall tree limbs, teaching their offspring the art of flight.

In this enchantingly rustic space, I often find myself jotting down notes, elaborating on imaginative narratives, and editing my work. The "deck o' fice" offers a refreshing change of scenery, fresh air, and constant reminders from our dog and cat to get up, move, and play with them. Their playful interruptions are welcomed breaks that rejuvenate my spirit and spark new ideas.

Sometimes, despite setting out to write on a specific topic or project, I discover that the words flowing through me are meant for something else entirely. I’ve learned to embrace this flow, understanding that it might hold the key to unlocking the very insights I had intended to capture. Writing in this tranquil, inspiring environment allows me to remain open to the magic of creativity, trusting that each word, each sentence, is part of a larger journey.

As I continue this writing odyssey, I am grateful for the "deck o' fice," a space where I can connect deeply with my work and the world around me. It is a place where stories come alive, where imagination knows no bounds, and where the simple joys of nature and companionship enrich every moment of my creative process.

 

 

Once Upon Time

 While exploring the New England countryside, I came upon a magical herb garden, and on this full moon night, I could not stop myself from wandering its oyster shell and white pebble path. The garden was in full expression of itself--a living tapestry of vibrant hues and ethereal fragrances, each plant articulating an ancient dialect of the natural world. Under the moonlight, the lavender shimmered with an astral quality, as though it had been touched by celestial beings. The rosemary, with its steadfast and wise presence, emanated an aura of protection, its spindly branches extending like the fingers of a benevolent guardian.

Amid the meticulously arranged rows of basil and thyme, diminutive fae creatures darted about, their laughter interweaving with the gentle rustling of leaves to create a delicate symphony. The mint, perpetually refreshing, infused the air with an invigorating essence, while the sage stood as a solemn sentinel, a repository of ancient wisdom.

Walking through this garden, I could feel the earth's pulse beneath my feet, each step forging a connection to the primordial forces that sustained this verdant sanctuary. It was a realm where the mundane seamlessly converged with the mystical, where each herb encapsulated a secret, a spell, a narrative waiting to be unveiled. Tending to this garden was akin to engaging in a sacred dance with nature, requiring a profound respect, keen intuition, and a touch of magic.

This enchanting path led to the kitchen door of an old manor house, once stately, now humbled by time and years of mindful use. A copper kettle, dented and dulled with patina, gently whistled an invitation to tea. Stepping across the threshold, the worn floorboards creaked beneath my feet, announcing my presence. An unseen charming voice, mellowed by wisdom, called out, "Do have a chair. And share the cream with Celeste."

With that, a large white cat with knowing yellow eyes rubbed against my leg, her purrs harmonizing with the garden's symphony. The scene was one of timelessness, where the garden's magic extended seamlessly into the warmth of the home, inviting a moment of serene presence and the opportunity to form a new friendship.