Re-Imagine the Stage

The great bard, William Shakespeare, once wrote, "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances..." These words suggest that we live in a world where the "script" and the "actors" in our lives are malleable. Through the use of imagination this turns out to be the case.  

Walking into a government facility can be intimidating. First there's security to pass through. Pockets are emptied, purses overturned, and guards watch you as though you're on the FBI most wanted list.  Once you're through that obstacle, then you're confronted by overworked, underpaid, clerks who would rather be anywhere else than waiting on you.  When you finally get to the front of the line and your name is called by the clerk, the belligerence is palpable.  They know the rules.  They know what forms are required.  And answering your questions is akin to pulling teeth. 

Such was the situation on a recent visit to city hall.  The clerk was not happy. Her answers were short, curt and at times antagonistic. She was going to make life as difficult as possible for everyone she encountered that day.  A typical reaction reaction would be to respond in kind or to defuse the situation by being overly polite and smiling.  With this clerk, it didn't matter.  Her face remained passive with a touch of arrogance.  When she dismissed us by saying "fill out the forms on the computer at the kiosk" which was conveniently far across the room from her, we knew any questions we had would not be answered without getting back into line.  So we
headed to the kiosk to begin filling out the forms she required.

Half-way through page one we could hear her angry comments in the background.  As if on cue, years of spiritual training kicked in.  We could change the atmosphere in the room as well as change the situation through the power of imagination.  "We know what to do, so let's do this" we said to each other.  "Let's change the stage and the situation."

We imagined the clerk in a peaceful bubble of pink light.  We imagined her happy at home and at work. We imagined all her worries and anger dissolving.  We imagined her with the word LOVE prominently written across her chest.  We saw radiant pink light pouring from her as she greeted every new person who came to her window. We saw the mask of anger on her face dissipating and it being replaced with a smiling face.  Then we continued filling out the forms.

We returned to the line to complete the paperwork. As we moved up to the front of the line
the clerk suddenly got up, closed her cubicle, and left the room.  We looked at each other wondering what had just happened.  Then, another window opened.  A beautiful, smiling, face greeted us. The new clerk now waiting on us, said, "Ladies, good morning.  You've come to the right window. I'm here to make your experience at City Hall perfect."  The contrast between the first clerk and the second could not have been more pronounced.  One actor exited and another had appeared on our little stage. 

Then we realized what we'd done and what had just happened.  Our training had worked a magical transformation.  We had Re-Imagined the atmosphere around the clerks on the Stage of City Hall. We had rewritten the script. What we created with our imagination had been delivered by the second clerk. She was smiling. She was happy.  She was pleasant. She loved her job. And she told us that since she was child, she always knew she had a special purpose in life. Eight years ago she discovered that purpose was to serve everyone with respect and LOVE.  

So the next time you're presented with a situation that is less than desirable, re-imagine it.  Re-write your script with the power of your mind. Perhaps the Bard was right, "All the world is a stage..." Be the playwright and the director of a life worth living.
++++++++ 

 

                                                                                                 Jo Mooy - March 2016   

Elevate the Senses

Elevate the Senses

Gino the Wine Knower

Returning from a month in Italy, most friends asked, "Was it great?" Expecting a yes answer they quickly moved on to the next topic. Others were more curious, wanting to learn more about the trip.  When they asked "What was the best thing you saw or did in Italy?" it would have been easy to say Florence, or Sorrento, or Tuscany. Instead I had to stop and reflect on not just the journey, but the experiences that wove themselves into my being and which now present as the best things about Italy.
It began with Gino who was known in Tuscany as a "wine-maker" but who called himself a "wine-knower."Reverently touching the vines he said "God and nature make the wine. Only by observing nature, the sky, the earth, the wind and the water do you know the wine." He continued, "Wine is not liquid. Rather wine is the heat of the sun, and the womb of the earth which produces the wine in this sacred valley where grapes were first discovered 2,600 years ago." 

Gino felt the drinking of wine should be a slow and holy journey.  And indeed, his wine stories were a metaphor on living a conscious life.  He asked, "Why do you race to the end of the

Four Generations of Gelato Makers

journey?  If you do, it's quickly over!  Go slowly and enjoy the pleasure of the trip. Bring all your senses into every experience and elevate each sense along the way. Smell the musk of the earth that produced the wine.  See the crimson color created by the chill air.  Hear the tone of the liquid as it's poured into a glass.  And feel the tingle at the back of the tongue as you taste it. That is how you become a knower of wine!"

Gino was the first of many Italians we met who said the same thing, delivered a similar message, and made you realize the Italians really do live like this. Theirs is a modern country, yet their lives are tied to the old ways - the elements, to the cycles of the moon and sun for planting, and the tides that come in and out. They do this as a matter of course, and without fanfare.  They do not rush about.  They take each day, each hour, each moment for what it presents. Every day they go to market for fresh produce or meats. The are restored in a three hour rest mid-day when stores close and dinner is served.  They work hard but

Family Sunday Dinners

take rest as needed.

The hearts of the Italian people are tied to their relationships with family and friends.  We learned Sunday was family day across Italy. Nothing interrupts Sunday meal gatherings that span several generations.  Yet, with warm hearts they invited us into their family celebrations. Seated at an open air restaurant by the Bay of Naples, we shared food and drink with them.  We were strangers, yet they offered us appetizers and tastes of food off their plates, along with glasses of Limoncello.  With my broken Italian and their broken English we laughed and talked and felt part of an extended family though we were far away from our own.

What was the best thing about Italy?  The people!  In Tuscany, we remember a "wine-knower" who was really a philosopher. In Sorrento we remember afternoons spent with a shop owner who told us her life story and called us "her angels."  Also in Sorrento, we remember four generations of gelato makers, learning about their religious faith, the loss of a child, and the joys of being a

Laura & Luca's Shop

large family. In Rome, we got taken for a ride by an unscrupulous taxi driver.  But he was overshadowed when Zina (an Italian warrior princess) came to our rescue, driving us around Rome at a fair price then picking us up at dawn to go to the airport so we wouldn't get caught by another unregistered taxi. These were the people who were the best thing about Italy.

Like Gino said, we experienced a most holy journey.  It was one we took slowly with elevated senses.  We touched the core of the people and their land.  We were embedded with them, their families and their stories.  Now, each of those treasured moments and the people who brought them to life are forever etched in our hearts.  On Valentine's Day we especially remember them.
++++++++

Making History

Starsoundings Journals

Making History

It was early January 2006.  Our house was empty, and without any furniture.  Friends said, "We need to bless your house.  When do you want to do it?"  I said, "The night of the full moon."  To prepare, I went to Walmart and bought eight folding chairs. On the full moon January 14th, eight friends, who would become close friends, sat on folding chairs around a cardboard box turned into a makeshift altar, burned incense and invoked blessings for the house.  It was the start of what became known as The Women's Meditation Circle.

They said, "Let's do it again on the February full moon."  We did. By March, the group of eight had doubled as word spread in the community.  Before the end of the year we were regularly seating forty women in the homes of members.  Soon, no home was large enough to hold the group.  It was time to find a permanent home.  In 2008, David Less, director of Rising Tide Spiritual Center heard about the work of our group and offered their center on Friday evenings for the Women's Meditations.  It became a mainstay at Rising Tide and has been our spiritual home ever since.

What's so special about the Women's Meditation Circle?  Why has it survived for ten years when other groups haven't?  I believe this is why.  Every circle is a rimmed container, but this one is uncommon. At its start the Women's Meditation Circle set a vision of raising human consciousness by raising our own.  With respect and integrity it reflects that vision to others.  It opens wide to all the women who come in the door. It's a place where strangers become friends and friends become family.

In their own words, women said: "I find love and acceptance every time I attend a gathering."  "It's a place where I learned  how to meditate." "It broadened my understanding of spirituality." "No matter how wretched my week has been, when I walk into that space I'm grounded and feel peace and contentment." "This circle and these women are my spiritual home." "It's my north star, constantly guiding me back home." These testimonials were borne out when The Women's Meditation Circle won Natural Awakenings "Nattie Award" as favorite meditation group for six years in a row.  The magazine retired the category in 2015.

Women from different religious backgrounds or spiritual disciplines find a neutral home here.  They, along with leaders of many spiritual centers in southwest Florida, are chosen to lead the twice-a- month meditations. Though their practices are varied they nourish the collective spirit. We've had Gong Meditations, Pipe Ceremonies and Balinese spirituality. The nights of Drumming, Connecting with Animal Totems,  and guided imagery meditations, pack the room as readily as those on Mindfulness or Honoring the Ancestors.

The work of The Women's Meditation Circle is not limited to just leading meditations.  Equinoxes and Solstices are celebrated on each seasonal change.  Children and men not only are invited to attend, but are active participants in the ceremonies with kids reading their messages of hope for a peaceful world.  We support charitable organizations through special collection efforts, like The Hope Project in India which helps the poor in Delhi and The Mayors Feed The Hungry Program of Sarasota and Manatee counties.

Ten years have passed since our simple beginning.  From eight women we've grown to well over five hundred now. On January 8th we will celebrate our Tenth Anniversary on the New Moon.  It's fitting that we do this on the New Moon for it symbolizes new beginnings. It's a time when we review the past and then set new goals for the future. Our vision remains the same but our vitality is enhanced by the many new women who come each Friday to the meditations. We cherish those who have been with us for ten years and we continue to hold the circle sacred embracing all who enter. 

Jo Mooy - January 2016 

WHY WE DO CEREMONIES

Why Ceremonies?

Torches at the four directions glow in the fading light of day.  The scent of incense fills the air.  A drum beats an ancient rhythm as the notes of a flute entwine with the drumbeat. As the celebrant approaches the eastern directional gate, a hush falls over the assembly.  Candles on the altar in the center of the circle are lit one by one.  An invocation accompanies the lighting of each.  With the sacredness of the ceremony set, the story of the event is choreographed to dance and 
music.  This is ceremony!

Humans have celebrated with like rituals and ceremonies for over one hundred thousand years.  Archaeologists found pottery, tools, and cave paintings indicating they were an essential component in the lives of every ancient culture.  Societies recognized the seasons of planting and harvest, the movement of the moon and stars, and honored birth and death.  At some point,  religion crept into the ceremonies complicating or altering many of the ancient practices.  Yet the dates marking the seasons were kept with attributions to the different Gods of each religion.

For the past twelve years ceremonies have been an integral part of the practices in our community. Individuals with similar beliefs mark the dates by participating in or supporting the vision inherent in each gathering.  The past decade offered up a rare occurrence that happens only once each century.  Between 2001 and 2012 the calendar dates 01-01-01 through 12-12-12 were identified as cosmic trigger events and celebrated as such.  On each of the triple numerical dates, a special ceremony, tied to the numerology of the date, was held. It ended with a large gathering on 12.12.12 known as Sounding the Bowls where hundreds of crystal and Tibetan bowls were sounded in concert across the waters of the Gulf of Mexico. 

But what about ceremonies?  What are they and what do they do for the human psyche?  And why should we in the modern world do ceremonies or rituals?  There's an easy answer.  Rituals and ceremonies connect us to an ancestry and history that provide a glimpse into a time and heritage long past.  When performed in the modern era, they remind us to halt the noise of everyday life and to remember the meaning of sacred space and the power of seasonal changes. Even more, they acknowledge the spiritual mystery inherent in celebrating special events, stimulating reverent qualities in all attendees.

It's easy to identify with Equinoxes and Solstices which represent Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter.  But if you've been part of these gatherings, you know each season or ceremony carries its own frequency that changes from year to year, though the event is the same.  

Each celebrant brings practices that makes each ceremony unique.  For example, a Celtic Bard might enact a story of the Return of the Light on the Winter Solstice that includes the use of hundreds of candles.  A shamanic practitioner might instead use the power of imagination to journey into the darkness to find the light and return it to earth.

When children participate a benign sweetness descends on the gathering.  There's recognition by all assembled that the next generation is being introduced to sacred patterns of harmony and reverence.  And in their own way, the children respond.  Shy ones find their voices, enter the circle, and speak to their elders with wisdom and clarity.  The more outgoing children take leadership roles in the ceremony, writing prayers, poems, or wishes for peace on earth. 

The size of a gathering can affect the energy either positively or negatively.  But if the gathering is set in a containment field, like a circle, it's much easier to feel sacred rhythms. An altar at the center of the circle makes a statement to all attending that this is a holy gathering. 

The role of officiant is important and carefully orchestrated. With exceptional power, they hold the containment field intact while voicing the intentions and impressions needed to make the ceremony solemn and reverent.  When the intentions are set, the candles lit, incense is burning, drums are sounding, and dancers weaving around the altar in the center, the audience responds with awe for they have become entwined with the ceremony.

From these many gatherings, people connect, a community is built, grace flows, and blessings are bestowed for family, friends, and all beings on the planet.  That is the sacredness of ceremony which really answers the question, Why Ceremonies. 

 

Jo Mooy - December 2015     

All Journals are archived on the website: Starsoundings Journals 

    

Coming Home

Coming Home

Without question traveling is a rich experience. It alters our understanding of other cultures and traditions. It broadens our previously held ideas about them. And, through meaningful conversations with people we meet, our ideals hopefully become more universal. But after months of travel, there's nothing quite like Coming Home. It's that glorious moment when you walk into your house and the familiar settings, the books, the crystals, the altar with its lingering smells of burned down incense, reclaim you. There's a silent pause as you look around and hear the house saying, I've been here waiting; where have you been?

Returning home is another part of the travel experience. But, re-animating the home can take a while. Travel laundry has to be done. Suitcases, battered by TSA across two continents, need to be put away for another year. Then food and supplies brought in. This sounds rather ordinary and routine. But, in mindfulness practices, the process is quite deliberate and methodical. For when a house sits alone for months, it develops its own silent but very noticeable patterns. A calm stillness is tangible in every room. It's held its own space without benefit of human intervention. The objects, lovingly placed by careful hands, look somewhat tenuous. It's as though each one could easily dissolve into the ether.

So, re-introducing human contact is a slow and sacred process. It must be done gently while respecting the energetic patterns the house created without us. It continued to provide shelter and cooling from the elements, though no one was around to appreciate it. Silly as it sounds, that must be acknowledged. Just as we ask the house spirit to be watchful and protective when we leave for travel, the same way we thank it for its service and duty when we return.

Once food has filled the refrigerator it's time for the more subtle animations to begin. Flowers are brought in. Their colors permeate everything. Flower-presence enlivens the house, telling it, take note, they're back! The flowers never overwhelm, but are a compliment to the décor. But the one thing above all others that signals to the house that "they're back" is the smell of incense. Once lit, the light blue tendrils of smoke linger as the smell of Champa wafts through the atmosphere. Anyone coming in the front door remarks about the signature fragrance.

Each sense of sight and smell and touch and taste bring life back into the house. But the powerful sense of sound announces a unique harmony when the various chimes are returned to the garden. The bamboo chimes play a tubular melody against the tinkling pipes of the Woodstock chimes. Then, when the deep vibrant tones of the long Neptune pentatonic tubes sound their baritone notes, the garden and house fall into resonance. This is when the tones and aromas awaken the "house-spirit" and it once again becomes a spirit-home. 

While these are most notable animations, balance must always be envisioned. When the elements are in harmony, balance is restored. When the sun moves across the heavens, announcing a new season every three months, balance is restored. When a house has its people, balance is restored. When its people animate the house, balance is restored. Coming Home restores a sacred balance. Gardens, left idle during travel, are weeded and fertilized, and balance is restored. Morning walks on the beach, not enjoyed since June, resume, and balance is restored. Sharing the journey with friends and students restores the balance.

In the end, it's these mundane acts of Coming Home that reclaim our space, renew us, and make us settled again. In these simple acts, great happiness and gratitude permeate the return to normalcy. May there be balance and happiness when you come home this Thanksgiving.

Jo Mooy - November 2015 

A Silent Healer

A Silent Healer

After several months of travel it's hard to get back into the swing of writing. The act of traveling or experiencing new things always inspires topics. As I looked back on the past five months, I wondered what should I write about. Then quite spontaneously, an idea floated in from a familiar place. While on the road, I was aware that a current was running just under the surface of all our movements. It wasn't loud nor did it demand attention. It was gentle and very subtle, pinging up through the various activities. Though it never overrode any activities. It was always there nonetheless. The current was "Silence" and it became a great friend.

In the summer of 2015 the US Supreme Court ruled on several landmark decisions. They said a Muslim woman could wear her head-scarf at her place of employment and in another ruling, Muslim prisoners could grow beards. They said the State of Texas could ban the Confederate flag on license plates. They upheld subsidy provisions of Obamacare. They approved same-sex marriage in the U.S. Needless to say these decisions polarized the country further.

The Supreme Court rulings had a direct affect on our experiences while traveling. Standing at the barriers on the streets of Charleston after the murders of nine people in a Bible class, it surfaced. I could have expressed sorrow to those standing near. It would have been the normal thing to do. But "Silence" said say nothing. Everyone knows and shares the same emotions as you.

Waiting in the lobby of a restaurant in the south, a large screen TV blared the news of same-sex marriage. A young couple in their thirties listened to the announcer. They began to expound on what they heard. HE: That's it for this country! It's against God. SHE: We should think about moving somewhere else. HE: Yeah, we should leave the country. It's not ours anymore. Both of them looked at me for agreement. Thousands of one-liners floated in for a retort. Then "Silence" said say nothing. Move away. I stared at them for a moment, swallowing the one-liners that begged to be let loose, and left.

On one of the hottest days in the North Georgia Mountains we visited Tallulah Falls planning to hike to the bottom of the canyon. At the first turn of the trail we stopped. Heat and exhaustion were taking a toll. We went back to the visitor's center to rest.  An Indian woman in full length sari and robes was brought in by her friend. Her face was bright splotchy red and she was heavily panting.  Through gasps she complained that her heart was racing. Her friend looked frantic. Silence said help her. Without knowing what we were doing, we told her to run cold water from the water fountains across her wrists to cool the blood. Within fifteen minutes her color returned and her heart slowed down.

Every experience and every person we meet has a direct purpose on our path. Each can be a tool for growth or one that keeps us bound to where we are. It's often difficult to remember that, much less act in accordance with it. Training in spiritual practices can enhance our awareness of events. But it takes a real commitment and a strong desire to interrupt the "normal" responses and act differently. Treating each of these experiences or people as a potential ladder on the journey changes our response as well as the outcome.

When we listen to the voice within, we develop a direct way of raising our personal level of consciousness. It takes great diligence and constant practice. But when we do, Silence becomes the Healer. It heals us by changing how we react to things. And in turn, changes the situations we encounter.

Jo Mooy - October 2015 

A Harvest of Presence

A Harvest of Presence

"It's an oasis!" - "I feel like I'm back in Costa Rica." - "It reminds me of Hawaii." - "Hydrangeas don't bloom in Florida!" - "Your garden always makes me feel good." said friends, strangers, or neighbors walking past our garden. It began simply enough as a six foot plot of earth with a Pygmy Palm in the middle of it. Then a family of Sandhill Cranes looking for grubs expanded it to eight feet. Their search for food compelled us to do something with the mound of now bare soil they'd overturned.

The teachings on Nature by Sufi mystic Inayat Khan came to mind. He said, "There is only one holy book. It is the sacred manuscript of Nature and it is the only scripture that can enlighten the reader." He went on, "All scriptures, before Nature's manuscript, are just little pools of water before the ocean." His teachings on Nature blended easily with our own practices on Mindfulness. In that perfect alignment of being present in the moment "The Garden" came into being.

It didn't come with instructions on what to plant. So we just sat with it intuitively. Using mindfulness techniques we were present to every nuance it revealed. We felt the warm humid atmosphere in and around the area. It was a vibrant place filled with insects and birds. Digging into the soil we saw tan-colored dry sand and black moist clay battle for dominance. Mindful tilling uncovered earthworms everywhere that were helping to aerate the soil with long trenches. Sadly, they also fed the white Ibises that arrived in flocks every morning at dawn. A few earthworms usually escaped the long curved bills which probed deep inside their trenches. It was nature teaching about life.

Days settled into weeks and then months as we prepared the planting bed. We planted by season, consciously watching the direction of the sun's angle to the garden. We saw how its progression across the sky brilliantly lit the garden or where it left shadows from the palm. The sun guided which plants would work best. But it was the flowers that told us what to do. We were present to each one of them in their growing season, selecting glorious shrubs and annuals in a riot of colors.

We spent our days digging, spading, fertilizing, watering, and pruning. We talked to the plants if they were stressed, assuring them all was well. We praised the ones that produced the most brilliant blossoms, telling them how remarkable they were. When experts assured us we couldn't grow roses in the heat of Florida we shrugged pointing to the pink, yellow, or red long stemmed beauties. "Tell them!" we said.

Every morning we made a daily pilgrimage into the garden. We admired each plant, propping up some dirt around the base of one, removing a twig that had fallen on a flower, or cutting off a dead branch. We touched their leaves in silent homage. We hovered over a new seedling like expectant mothers. We showered gratitude and appreciation for each one of their unique expressions. In time we came to realize working the garden had become it's own form of meditation - a most natural and easy form of direct communication with nature.

Inayat Khan said every leaf is a page that contains divine revelation. In the ten seasons as caretakers of the garden it's taught us how to read the manuscript of Nature. The manuscript showed there was a cycle of birth, growth, and death in every entity. While plants do grow tall and burst with flowers, soon those flowers die, their seeds feeding the birds. But always, life continues. Some seeds that fall to the ground become seedlings. In time, those seedlings become mature plants with new flowers, repeating the cycle of birth, growth and death. The plants were no different than the Sandhill Cranes who returned every spring, laid eggs, hatched their babies and taught them how to feed on grubs and earthworms, often in our garden.

Nature is a fully balanced organism. It doesn't really need humans. But humans need it. It transports us to a place outside ourselves. It gives us the space to slow down and to appreciate the magnificent colors and scents that can alter our moods. It teaches us about birth, life and death. It allows us the freedom to become at peace with this knowledge. And it bestows its bounty on those who take the time to let it. The Garden is a Harvest of Presence moments. All one must do is practice presence and patience and listen.
 

Jo Mooy - September 2015

In Unsung Service

In Unsung Service

They're mostly anonymous. Unknown even to each other. They range in age from thirty to ninety. They feel their names are unimportant. But the service they perform, when summoned by their coordinator, can change lives for the better. "They" are The Healers Network.

Their beginning seven years ago was unplanned but fortuitous. Many met while attending weekend healing seminars taught by Patricia Cockerill. With new-found knowledge and practical experiences learned about healing energy they said they wanted to use it to help family and friends who were suffering. Then the "ah-hah" moment occurred and The Healers Network was born. 

It started with 25 women who wanted to further pursue energy healing after taking a healing workshop together in 2008. In subsequent healing seminars taught by Patricia over the next four years the total grew to sixty-five women and men healers. At first their work revolved around local family members. Soon the word got out. Requests for healing came to Patricia through various sources - word of mouth, the Women's Meditation Circle, and social media. Before long the reach of the group spanned countries.

Patricia developed a simple but personal email identifying the first name, last initial and location of the person seeking help. The request also included a brief description of the illness or special request that friends or family had submitted on behalf of the person. Each day that Patricia got new names, an email was sent to the healers. Soon people were writing back with updates on their requests and with words of gratitude. Many times petitioners would relay a story of a remarkable healing. 

A baby girl in the Northeast needed a liver transplant. She would endure many operations in her first two years of life, all with severe complications. The prognosis was not good.  But the healers persevered, working on the infant they came to know as "Baby Jaxon." After two transplants and countless near death moments she's now a six year old in school. Another man was diagnosed with inoperable cancer.  Again, the healers set to work, knowing only this caveat with which Patricia ends each email: "May it be for their highest and best good."  His family recently reported he is cancer free. Not all requests have such outcomes. When a healing is not to be, the healers simply hold the space for ease and courage in transition.

The process though is not as important as the healers themselves. Their intentions then and now continue to be selfless. Each one brings a different discipline to the healing work. Some are Reiki Masters. Others are trained in Quantum Healing, EFT, or Healing Touch. A few simply hold space in prayer or meditation on behalf of the sick.

Most of them do their work silently without communicating with Patricia. But when they do it's always something important. The ninety-year old great-grandmother healer reflected that doing this work gives her a sense of purpose in life. It allows her to get up in the morning and sit quietly on behalf of those less fortunate than herself. Others are very intuitive. They write about  "seeing" a karmic incident or long-buried situation with the person they're working on. Sometimes a request is so poignant that one or more of the healers will write that they were compelled to work on the person for an extended period of time.  Without fail, one healer responds to every email request with the simple, "Healing love and Divine Light sent." 

The names that come in for healing fill a prayer box. It was named the "Reiki Box" symbolizing the familiar nature of energy healing. The names are left to accumulate in the box for six months. Then, in a very sacred ceremony where each name passes through the hands of a healer, they are burned on either the summer or winter solstice. The names are blessed, the intention remembered, and the small piece of paper released into the flames.  After the burning, the ashes are always collected.  Those ashes are later buried in another ceremony at a sacred site somewhere around the world.

The Healers Network is an unsung service. It is a service of passion and compassion. The heartfelt desires of those in need are never ignored.  The Healers Network hears the cries for help and responds daily. This work is that of selfless beings.  They are unknown and unsung heroes who wish no accolades. Their only desire is to help those who are suffering and in need.  Is there a greater passion than in service to others?

Jo Mooy - August 2015

 

HOW DOES YOUR GARDEN GROW

How Does Your Garden Grow?

 

The labyrinth was in a state of disrepair. Tall weeds were growing over mounds of dirt, and several outer rings were submerged by frequent downpours. When she arrived at Unity, Mary Badeau felt deep sadness at the condition it was in. She said it was the same feeling one gets when seeing a hurt or abandoned animal. She had to do something.

She was neither disheartened nor discouraged. Instead, she rallied to the task, intent on bringing the labyrinth back to its full potential. For forty days she did what she called "an intervention." She began the physical work of raising the rings above the water level, carting hundreds of bags of soil to the rings. When needing a rest, she read volumes about Labyrinths.

On the twenty-first day, her friend Susanne arrived to help. These two women, seniors in body but youngsters in heart, worked together for nine months. After the mounds were built up, they placed borders around the rings to keep the soil and mulch in place. Then they added small succulent plants and native species at the edges of the walking area, marking the course. But the real impact of the Labyrinth was the personal tokens. Crystals, small ceramic or stone animals, candles, chimes, fairies, Buddhas and plaques interspersed the plants. They dotted every section of the trail because visitors were encouraged to bring a plant or crystal to commemorate their walk.

I've walked dozens of labyrinths at sacred sites all over the world, but this one at Unity of Venice was in a realm by itself. It was organic. It was sentient. It was personal. It was mindful. Each item one passed told a story or unearthed a related memory as walkers made their way to the center. As I walked the rings, the nursery rhyme, Mary, Mary, quite contrary how does your garden grow, flitted across my mind. I had to learn more about Mary.

Mary's labyrinth is a story of love. It's the love she and Susanne had for nature that was both spiritual and inspirational. Mary told me "It wasn't until I went into the garden that I gave birth to myself. I asked the question, 'Who am I?" and the transcendent spoke silently through the garden." She and Susanne arrived early each morning to begin their work. The birds would be singing in the branches of the great oak grandmother trees that surrounded the labyrinth. Each of the magnificent oaks revealed a name to them.

The design, she said, was intuitive. "We both love color and texture and we would surprise each other with trays of flowers and plants. We followed the chakra colors. Row 1 was red, Row 2 orange, Row 3 yellow. It was a challenge because some plants like sun and some like shade. Some like to be dry and some like wet. Theylet us know fast if they were unhappy."

When I asked her why she and Susanne did it, she replied, "For the sheer joy of it. Even the hard physical work was wonderful. Going to the labyrinth every morning was like running to a lover, delighting that it was still there. But best of all was being in the silence of living, growing things." She continued, "The labyrinth is a silent teacher. Without words or books it allows me to engage in the mystery of being for the sake of being and creating. I know what harmonic balance feels like. I can see how it works. The labyrinth inspires dancing. Sacred encounters. Expressions of joy. Exploring. Picnics. Conversations on the benches. Birthday parties. Children running and playing in it. It brings joy."

The labyrinth is a metaphor for the journey of life. The many rings meander around a path, asking us to simply walk forward in mindfulness. The journey of Susanne's life was that. But sadly, it was soon cut short. On the day the labyrinth was dedicated in a Summer Solstice ceremony, she felt "something was not right." Within three months she learned she had ALS and within a year transitioned. Amemorial stone with Susanne's name is a daily reminder to Mary of her friend

The labyrinth is an ancient archetype symbolically conjuring up the path to the center of inner stillness. Mary's devotion to gardens, to nature, and to all living things is a metaphor for love. For what is love but service to others. In creating and now maintaining this labyrinth her nature is joyfully expressed without fanfare. Mary, now known as the Keeper of the Labyrinth, is quick to remind everyone that Susanne was an integral part of its creation. Even though she's gone, Mary knows she's continually working on it from the other side. In Mary's expression of loving service we experience their peaceful blessings with every mindful step we take on this memorable labyrinth.  

 Jo Mooy - July 2015 

Enlightenment at Paneras

Enlightenment at Paneras

It was Easter week. The restaurant was more crowded than normal. Patrons werefrenetically vying for free tables. A family of six made its way to a large booth. The mother seated a four-year old child at the end of the booth. The food and drinks were carefully set on the table with a tall glass of milk in front of the child. As the boy reached for the too-large glass, it tipped over. A river of milk flowed across the table. The boy looked up in terror, expecting a tongue lashing from one of the adults. Instead of drama and chaos, the father reached for a stack of napkins, gave the boy a gentle smile and said, "Oh oh, let's clean that up!" The little boy's shoulders relaxed, relief visible on his face. The other adults continued eating as though nothing had happened.

 

I thought of that incident when Spirit of Maatasked me to write an article for the "Path to Enlightenment." It can be a grandiose topic. Google has 37 million entries on the subject. It frightens some people while it motivates others. To many, it feels like a "destination" on the path. So, what is enlightenment? Who has it? How did they get it? How do I become enlightened?

 

Enlightenment paths are varied. Some teach the way to enlightenment is to go to the mountains, find a cave, and meditate twelve hours a day. Others presentpractices guaranteed to cause enlightenment as though the act of enlightenment is the goal. Some travel all over the world in search of it. They think that through other cultures a magical elixir will bring it to them. It's even a business model for many New Age seminars and workshops.

 

The subject isn't far from the hearts or minds of conscious thinkers. But before bottoming out on the countless potholes on the road to enlightenment, stop a moment and reflect. Enlightenment is a character trait. It's how one behaves during an altercation. Enlightenment is inner wisdom. It's how one perceives an event, looking at the whole effect rather than the pieces. Enlightenment is spiritual maturity. It's how one interprets teachings and uses the teachings for the benefit of all. Enlightenment is the daily living of life with consciousness and integrity. Enlightenment is holding a compassionate, peaceful demeanor, no matter the circumstances.

 

The path to getting there? Not so easy! It requires discipline. It requires desire. It requires a commitment. How to get there? It's a very personal journey. Only the individual can determine what path to take amid the hundreds presented over the course of a lifetime. It's not a one-size-fits-all path. And it's not an actual destination. It's simply the path.

 

Thousands of years ago a master teacher, was asked "How do I become enlightened?" He answered, "Chop wood and carry water." A subtle, holy consciousness exists in the chopping of wood and the carrying of water. Whether the path takes you to a mountain cave of silence or to the active life of a house-holder, consciousness is ever present. Recognizing that consciousness and being mindful of it as often as you can, is the path to enlightenment.

 

The father who simply cleaned up the river of milk spilled by his son, was the mirror of enlightenment. In the midst of potential chaos he maintained calm and peacefulness. His behavior displayed sweet compassion towards his son. And his behavior allowed the rest of his dining companions, to eat without incident. His peacefulness affected not just his table but all those tables around him. He may not have been conscious of his own enlightened behavior, but to this observer he personified it. He was chopping wood and carrying water, and on the very path of enlightenment.

 

Jo Mooy - June 2015