For the Files: Notes on Nomad Meditations Week 4

More (late) personal notes for the Dianne Sylvan's Spiritual Nomads E-Course... for the files.

"Laksmi and Blue Poppies" by Paul Heussenstamm. Available @ Mandalas.com

Week 4 of the Spiritual Nomads E-Course flew by & I reflect back & see myself looking a bit like I did during my undergraduate career. I was notorious for ending up with incompletes. Oh, yes Queen Incomplete. I was incomplete enough to have my graduation date protracted by two years, a situation which required that I gain employment with the University just to maintain some kind of tether to the school while I dragged my feet. 

Perfection is part of my problem, but there is also a pickiness I see more clearly as I age. I have had some pickiness with this course which is exhibited by my lack of answers to four weeks of "Questions for Further Contemplation" & perfectionism is holding up my "Guru Board" (although I confess it was initially delayed by pickiness). Overall, however, I feel really positive about my commitment to the meditation exercises & the gifts I have received from it.

Blue Poppy (Meconopsis sp.)
Courtesy WikiCommons

I really, really liked the modification to the meditations this week & it made me evermore grateful that I took the chakra meditations workshop through my Alaskan community this past Autumn. It had the unforeseen benefit of being an excellent foundation for this part of the course. In this module, Dianne Sylvan asks us to do some chakra work & suggests we imagine the chakras "changing shape, solidifying into closed flower buds. The type of flower is entirely up to you..." She later makes mention of the classic Eastern lotus blossom, but I chose poppies because they appeal to my sense of humor as well as my sense of aesthetic. Lotus flowers, they are not, but one must go with what works. (I was pleased to learn that blue poppies are an "Alaska Girl" favourite. I suppose should stop & smell the flowers when I am down there with the fungi...)

Also in this week's module was a discussion on building ritual. Suggestions for adding to the meditations ranged the gamut & I was resistant to making changes I felt would just "complicate" things. However, I found myself feeling a strong desire to use a bell. At first, I didn't know how, or when, but it quickly became clear that ringing the bell from the porch, before I step out into the Darkness was to be the bell's mode d'employ. It is my way of signaling my entry into a special time, a special place. It is as much a signal to me as it is to those I may encounter outside the door. I find it a nice, simple addition & it just feels right.

My personal meditation notes follow.

Notes on Meditations at the Night Altar Week 4:

Night Altar Day 1:

+ 1 Glass of cool water

+ 1 Incense burner, charcoal, black/dark copal resin*

Remember.

Remember the breeze & the snow dust. Remember the rhythm of water dripping somewhere -- perfectly in time with my breathing, my rocking.
Remember the ting of the wind chimes signaling the chill caress of  the wind on my cheeks.
Remember how smoothly the visualization exercise flowed, offering a sense of tranquility, but not profundity. It did, however, chase away the monkey. 
Remember a powerful feeling of gratitude. Gratitude for this exercise, for this sense of peace.
There is a glow along the Eastern horizon.
Goodnight.

Night Altar Day 2:

+ 1 Glass of cool water

+ 1 Incense burner, charcoal, small-grained, multi-coloured resin (from the box of unlabeled resins)
+ 1 Copper bell

Remember.

Remember the Moon,sending greetings from the West side of Her sky-palace. Remember considering joining Her there, but choosing otherwise, blowing Her a kiss & returning to the Night Altar.


Remember breathing, rocking. Chakras, green & blue. Poppies unfolding to receive Love & Grace.
From this place, I send much needed Love to one I do not know, far, far away. I send it over the ocean with the Wind. Chimes, near & far, sway & sing in the breeze as it gathers strength.


I feel the stirrings of an over-taken-ness. My body begins to subtly pitch forward & back. It is a rare but familiar feeling. I am eager to welcome it -- yet in my anticipation, I slip into conscious thought & the feeling fades.


In pleasant peace, I conclude my evening rite, pausing before entering the house to bid the Moon goodnight.

Night Altar Day 3:

The wind is nightmarish. I step outside & realize that if the wind were less icy, I would take great pleasure in being pushed about by the powerful gusts. Instead, it's freezing fingers flow through my down jacket & pyjamas like water through a sieve, forcing me to take cover. I consider the enclosed porch, but it is just not the same as being truly outside. 
Reluctantly, I capitulate to the elements. Sometimes we have to accept our status as creatures of comfort.

Night Altar Day 4:

+ 1 Glass of cool water

+ 1 Incense burner, charcoal, Livani resin

+ 1 Brass bell

Neglected to journal afterward. How slacktastic of me.

Night Altar Day 5:

+ 1 Glass of cool water

+ 1 Japanese Nippon Kodo Iris* & incense burner
+ 1 Brass bell

Remember.
Joy & the Moon above like a heavenly ceiling light.
The rushing voice of the snowfall-engorged river.
Breathing in. Breathing out.
Shooting Star.
Geese gossip on the Eastern ponds.
Snowy Moon-glow on the Canyon walls.
Poppies open, more bliss.
Yes.
Even the neighbor's overbuilt truck engine sounds good.
Joy.
Goodnight.

Night Altar Day 6:

+ 1 Glass of cool water

+ 1 Japanese Nippon Kodo Iris & incense burner
+ 1 Bell from the bedroom door*

I did not write notes, for not long after I begin baby wakes, crying. I return to the Night Altar with the little one in my arms. Breathing, rocking, under the gentle gaze of the Moon. He sleeps again, his face, wrapped in black velour, is a warm reflection of Hers, wrapped in the fabric of the heavens.
Who is this bird singing in the night?

Night Altar Day 7:

+ 1 Glass of cool water

+ 1/2 Japanese Nippon Kodo Amber & incense burner
+ 1 Bell from the bedroom door*

Remember.

The River. Breath. The Moon above, Her luminosity causing my pyjamas & fuzzy slippers to glow preternaturally. Her light feels warm.
The Red Planet. Large, twinkling. Largest it will be to our eyes until 2014.
Poppies open.
Monkey brain prevails.
I chose to conclude the meditation & begin to rise. The faintly, from the North, I hear the voice of Owl.
I am listening.
Owl in the South. Perhaps the bird has silently moved to another tree? 
Silence.
I begin to rise. Again, Owl calls. One in the North, one in the South. Call & response.
We go through this routine -- silence, then me, rising to leave & Owls delaying me, then silence again. Over & over.  
Finally, a very long silence.

I rise, raise my hands to the Sky & the voice from the North calls out, clear & quite loud now: Whooh, Hooo-Hooo!
I smile. No, beam. Yes. I am leaving now, but I will be listening.
I turn & grasp the door. Whooh, Hooo-Hooo!
Goodnight.

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