The spinning sensation started sometime early this morning. I was lying in bed, awake, and suddenly became aware of vertigo. It's still going on now, some three hours or more later. It does seem tied into something going on energetically, based on how things felt during meditation a while ago. Perhaps it is the effect of the Mercury interaction with Pluto and Uranus today, which is dismantling and rewiring our logical brains in some respect.
Anyone else having similar symptoms?
Pam
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Monday, September 17, 2012
A flicker of hope?
If I were to tell you I had a flicker in my woodstove today, you would assume I meant a small fire, wouldn't you? Ah, but you would be incorrect!
Sometime yesterday, a real live flicker, like this one:
somehow made its way into my stovepipe and down into my woodstove. No small feat. Clearly the screen at the top of the pipe has decayed, to allow this fairly large bird to enter.
All last night, I heard scratching inside the stovepipe -- bird? mouse? I didn't know what to think, and couldn't imagine how it had gotten inside.
This morning I threw a blanket over the window on the front of the stove and had to leave for the day. My hope was that if it were feathered, it would fly up toward the light during the day. And, that if it were furry, it would somehow find its way back the same way it had gotten in.
This afternoon, on arriving home, all was quiet. But, when I opened the top of the stove, something moved. I screamed. Dogs barked. My first thought was that it was a big gray rat. Ugh.
I shone a flashlight in the front, and saw the unmistakeable black crescent that marks a flicker's chest. Relief that it wasn't a rat, but concern now. How do I get it out? Is it hurt? What to do.
Online, I found the phone number for a wildlife rescue organization in the area, and called for ideas. The answer was, that if the flicker wasn't hurt, the best thing to do was open one door or window, black out all the rest, and open the woodstove for the flicker to fly out on its own.
Long story short -- it worked, after the bird didn't move at all for several minutes (no doubt frozen in fear after all it had been through), and then after a few frantic moments of the poor bird flying up to the window I hadn't been able to reach to cover. But then I opened the double doors off my upstairs bedroom, encouraged the bird to leave the window where there was no opening, and he flew out through the open doors. Hooray.
Now that the adrenalin rush has subsided, I'm curious about the symbolism of the event. This flicker had to work VERY hard to get my attention, and put in a very difficult almost-24 hours. It makes me think there's something important here.
Online again, this time to search for "flicker symbolism." Here's one I found:
"The bright red markings of flickers are associated with fire, and in the Native American legends, Flicker sometimes features as a medicine character with powers over fire. Like other members of the woodpecker family, flickers are considered lucky birds and are associated with friendship and happiness. In particular, yellow-shafted flickers or yellowhammers are believed to bring good luck and healing; hearing their cries means that you will soon receive a visitor, and in some Northern California tribes, dreaming of a yellowhammer is the sign that a person will become a traditional healer."
And, Ted Andrews, in his book Animal Speak, tells us that the flicker represents spiritual, emotional, and creative change. That part I know is true. As I emerge from the two-year passage of Saturn through my 12 house, much has changed in my life and many things are still finding their way into new reality.
I find it interesting that the Native American legend gives flicker the power over fire -- and here was this flicker, in my woodstove.
I need to give my various levels of consciousness more time to consider all that the flicker was trying to communicate to me. But I especially like thinking that one of its purposes was, as the subject line of this post says, to remind us of the "flicker of hope" that can light our way during these powerful times of change.
And, oh yes -- I've scheduled a chimney cleaning and replacement of the screen at the top of the stovepipe. Don't want to put any more flickers, or myself or my dogs, through that experience again!
Sometime yesterday, a real live flicker, like this one:
somehow made its way into my stovepipe and down into my woodstove. No small feat. Clearly the screen at the top of the pipe has decayed, to allow this fairly large bird to enter.
All last night, I heard scratching inside the stovepipe -- bird? mouse? I didn't know what to think, and couldn't imagine how it had gotten inside.
This morning I threw a blanket over the window on the front of the stove and had to leave for the day. My hope was that if it were feathered, it would fly up toward the light during the day. And, that if it were furry, it would somehow find its way back the same way it had gotten in.
This afternoon, on arriving home, all was quiet. But, when I opened the top of the stove, something moved. I screamed. Dogs barked. My first thought was that it was a big gray rat. Ugh.
I shone a flashlight in the front, and saw the unmistakeable black crescent that marks a flicker's chest. Relief that it wasn't a rat, but concern now. How do I get it out? Is it hurt? What to do.
Online, I found the phone number for a wildlife rescue organization in the area, and called for ideas. The answer was, that if the flicker wasn't hurt, the best thing to do was open one door or window, black out all the rest, and open the woodstove for the flicker to fly out on its own.
Long story short -- it worked, after the bird didn't move at all for several minutes (no doubt frozen in fear after all it had been through), and then after a few frantic moments of the poor bird flying up to the window I hadn't been able to reach to cover. But then I opened the double doors off my upstairs bedroom, encouraged the bird to leave the window where there was no opening, and he flew out through the open doors. Hooray.
Now that the adrenalin rush has subsided, I'm curious about the symbolism of the event. This flicker had to work VERY hard to get my attention, and put in a very difficult almost-24 hours. It makes me think there's something important here.
Online again, this time to search for "flicker symbolism." Here's one I found:
"The bright red markings of flickers are associated with fire, and in the Native American legends, Flicker sometimes features as a medicine character with powers over fire. Like other members of the woodpecker family, flickers are considered lucky birds and are associated with friendship and happiness. In particular, yellow-shafted flickers or yellowhammers are believed to bring good luck and healing; hearing their cries means that you will soon receive a visitor, and in some Northern California tribes, dreaming of a yellowhammer is the sign that a person will become a traditional healer."
And, Ted Andrews, in his book Animal Speak, tells us that the flicker represents spiritual, emotional, and creative change. That part I know is true. As I emerge from the two-year passage of Saturn through my 12 house, much has changed in my life and many things are still finding their way into new reality.
I find it interesting that the Native American legend gives flicker the power over fire -- and here was this flicker, in my woodstove.
I need to give my various levels of consciousness more time to consider all that the flicker was trying to communicate to me. But I especially like thinking that one of its purposes was, as the subject line of this post says, to remind us of the "flicker of hope" that can light our way during these powerful times of change.
And, oh yes -- I've scheduled a chimney cleaning and replacement of the screen at the top of the stovepipe. Don't want to put any more flickers, or myself or my dogs, through that experience again!
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Synchronicity and Shakespeare
An interesting coincidence to share...
If you read this week's NorthPoint Journal, you know that I began with a quote from Shakespeare's King Richard III, the play that begins with the words "Now is the winter of our discontent..."
The synchronicity revealed itself today, when I opened my Yahoo email account, and saw a teaser headline about a "medieval church discovered beneath a parking lot." That got my attention, so I clicked.
The news story began, "The hunt for King Richard III's grave is heating up, with archaeologists announcing Sept. 5 that they have located the church where the king was buried in 1485."
Having written the journal on Sunday the 2nd, I could not have read that announcement somewhere and had it trigger my use of the quote from the play. And, to be honest, although I consider myself somewhat familiar with classic literature, I am no expert on Shakespearean plays, and did not know what play the quote was from.
I had formatted the new week's issue of the journal, as I sometimes do, on Saturday night -- entering the highlighted aspects for the week and finding a suitable photo for the masthead, and hoping that my unconscious would work on the information overnight and guide me in the writing on Sunday morning. And, as I also sometimes do, I wrote a first paragraph, then turned off the computer and went to bed.
It was early the next morning (or in the middle of the night?) when the "Now is the winter of our discontent" line came tumbling into my awareness, and with it the beginning lines of the journal entry for the week. When I turned on the computer Sunday morning, I erased the paragraph I had written Saturday night, and began to write the issue using Shakespeare's quote. (I then had to Google the quote so that I knew what play it was from...)
So, to read that news article today, referencing King Richard III -- well, it got my attention, as synchronicities are meant to do. Always fun. (If you're interested in reading rest of the news article, click here.)
Hope your week is going well!
Pam
If you read this week's NorthPoint Journal, you know that I began with a quote from Shakespeare's King Richard III, the play that begins with the words "Now is the winter of our discontent..."
The synchronicity revealed itself today, when I opened my Yahoo email account, and saw a teaser headline about a "medieval church discovered beneath a parking lot." That got my attention, so I clicked.
The news story began, "The hunt for King Richard III's grave is heating up, with archaeologists announcing Sept. 5 that they have located the church where the king was buried in 1485."
Having written the journal on Sunday the 2nd, I could not have read that announcement somewhere and had it trigger my use of the quote from the play. And, to be honest, although I consider myself somewhat familiar with classic literature, I am no expert on Shakespearean plays, and did not know what play the quote was from.
I had formatted the new week's issue of the journal, as I sometimes do, on Saturday night -- entering the highlighted aspects for the week and finding a suitable photo for the masthead, and hoping that my unconscious would work on the information overnight and guide me in the writing on Sunday morning. And, as I also sometimes do, I wrote a first paragraph, then turned off the computer and went to bed.
It was early the next morning (or in the middle of the night?) when the "Now is the winter of our discontent" line came tumbling into my awareness, and with it the beginning lines of the journal entry for the week. When I turned on the computer Sunday morning, I erased the paragraph I had written Saturday night, and began to write the issue using Shakespeare's quote. (I then had to Google the quote so that I knew what play it was from...)
So, to read that news article today, referencing King Richard III -- well, it got my attention, as synchronicities are meant to do. Always fun. (If you're interested in reading rest of the news article, click here.)
Hope your week is going well!
Pam
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Light at the end of the tunnel
It has again been a long stretch between my postings here -- my apologies to those of you who are faithful followers! I am nearing the end of Saturn's transit through my 12th house, which has pulled me inside for most of my extracurricular activities, and dampened some of my usual initiative for external creation.
Saturn is now crossing my Ascendant, wrapping up some issues that have been cycling through my consciousness for the past 9 months. In the weeks ahead, especially as Saturn leaves Libra and my Ascendant behind, I anticipate I will also come further out of the 12th house cave...
Thanks for your patience! Off to write this week's Journal...
Pam
Saturn is now crossing my Ascendant, wrapping up some issues that have been cycling through my consciousness for the past 9 months. In the weeks ahead, especially as Saturn leaves Libra and my Ascendant behind, I anticipate I will also come further out of the 12th house cave...
Thanks for your patience! Off to write this week's Journal...
Pam
Saturday, July 21, 2012
The pressure being felt
Such extremes we're experiencing -- and in keeping with the effects of the Pluto-Uranus square. On personal levels, the Uranus effect is causing restlessness, a strong need for doing things our own way, breakdowns and breakthroughs, and boredom with life as usual. On the other side of the equation, the Pluto effect manifests as upheaval in what was once reliable, power struggles, intensification of emotions, and the feeling that much of what used to define us is being stripped away.
With these two planets pushing on us with such intensity -- and with Mars and Jupiter adding their energies to the mix this past week -- even those of us who feel generally stable may have found ourselves questioning our sanity and ability to cope. And those who are near the edge emotionally or mentally may, unfortunately and often tragically, slip off the edge of rationality.
It's difficult to find purposes when tragedy strikes, seemingly so senselessly. My heartfelt sympathy to anyone touched by recent events.
PS: I just received an email about the events in Colorado from Lena Stevens, a shaman whose newsletter I receive monthly. She offers helpful perspectives and healing insights regarding the events. You can find her brief letter on her website by clicking here.
With these two planets pushing on us with such intensity -- and with Mars and Jupiter adding their energies to the mix this past week -- even those of us who feel generally stable may have found ourselves questioning our sanity and ability to cope. And those who are near the edge emotionally or mentally may, unfortunately and often tragically, slip off the edge of rationality.
It's difficult to find purposes when tragedy strikes, seemingly so senselessly. My heartfelt sympathy to anyone touched by recent events.
PS: I just received an email about the events in Colorado from Lena Stevens, a shaman whose newsletter I receive monthly. She offers helpful perspectives and healing insights regarding the events. You can find her brief letter on her website by clicking here.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
My turn
So I get to be the poster child for Mercury and Uranus retrograde this time! My hard drive just crashed, and I'm in the midst of trying to configure a new computer, finding out which programs won't work on the new operating system, realizing what information I no longer have, etc. etc.
Lots of fun! I hope your experience goes a little easier than mine!
Lots of fun! I hope your experience goes a little easier than mine!
Friday, June 29, 2012
Unplugged
This in-between-worlds feeling has been with us for a few days now. A friend of mine wrote last night that it feels like we have been "unplugged from one matrix or power source and not plugged into a new one yet."
Whether you call it being in "limbo" or "the void," it's at least helpful to know others are feeling it, too! And that it's a positive indicator of the leaps forward we're making, and that we'll soon be entering a(nother) new phase ...
Relax, breathe, and enjoy the space in between...
Whether you call it being in "limbo" or "the void," it's at least helpful to know others are feeling it, too! And that it's a positive indicator of the leaps forward we're making, and that we'll soon be entering a(nother) new phase ...
Relax, breathe, and enjoy the space in between...
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