Programs – Page 3 – Karen's New York Love Affair

Ecosabotage

I decided to follow after the bear, even though I knew it was unlikely I would catch up and see him again. He had headed south towards Missezula Lake, so I went that way, climbing up grassy knolls and over fallen logs. I found some white fungus on a dead Ponderosa pine. There were large round holes in the tree bark, and the fungus was near the base of the tree. The fungus felt hard and dry on the outside, and was whitish with orangey tones underneath. It smelled wonderful, like almond. I wondered if the bear would eat this member of the mushroom family.

The earth is so amazing and beautiful. I felt awed by the variety of tiny flowers, insects, and lichens. Incredible! There were stumps everywhere, and I felt sad at the destruction of all the trees. They had been living beings. A big bee buzzed in agreement as I rested at the base of the Ponderosa. I remembered a wise old woman who had taken my sister and me for a walk one summer near my family’s cabin on Knouff Lake. She showed us wildflowers and told us their names. Later my dad and sister and I fed peanuts in shells to the chipmunks. I remembered walking around Alice Lake with my father another summer. He held my hand as I walked along logs stretching out into the lake. I was afraid of falling into the water, and clung to his hand tightly. He taught me to test myself and take little risks like that. And to love the land. How lucky that I can appreciate this place, I thought, noticing a tiny red worm with a black head on a leaf nearby. It smelled so good here, with the hot pine smell of the forest, the delicate flowers, the almond scent of the fungi.

I thought about the contrast of heavy machine noise and the stink of pollution in the city. But nowhere is exempt from these things. Early this morning I heard logging trucks northeast of Monkey Valley. Planes flew overhead throughout the day. Signs of human activity are everywhere. I sighed as I gathered up my pack and continued to walk.

I guessed that it was a little past noon. After I crossed Galena Creek logging road, heading southeast, I saw some fresh bear scat, and felt glad that my bear friend was still around here somewhere. I noticed that the land felt different on this side of the road. It didn’t seem to have been logged, and consequently wasn’t as open. There were a lot of dead and fallen trees to climb over. Then I spotted pink ribbon with black dots on it, marking a cut block. Huh. This area was slated for logging too. I removed the ribbon and tucked it in my pocket. Ecosabotage! The ribbon had marked a threshold between two trees, so I decided to go in that direction, passing through the threshold. To be continued…

The bears and the trees!

I was feeling somewhat lazy after my nap, so I decided to just move my rain jacket into the sunshine and lounge around a while longer. I noticed all the plants were crushed where I had been laying, so I knelt down to give the earth Reiki and thank her for sheltering me there. One of the plants looked like sage. There is a lot of sage around Merritt, where the land is more open and dry. I hadn’t yet found any near my land, but maybe this was it! I picked a piece of leaf, crushed it between my fingers, and smelled, hoping for the alluring sharp scent of sage, but it wasn’t.

As I knelt there I heard a sound behind me. It was a small sound, and I imagined it was a mouse rustling through the grass. I looked in the direction of the sound and saw a big black bear, eating grass and moving straight towards me! Not a mouse at all! The bear was only 20 yards away! I felt delight, fear, and wonder. My legs felt very trembly and weak as I crouched there. My senses became heightened and I noticed the sound of a squirrel with its rat-a-tat chatter nearby. I was worried about the bear getting closer, for I feared that if he discovered my presence too late, he would feel forced to attack. Inspired, I imitated the squirrel’s chatter, thinking it would alert the bear to my presence without alarming it. For the bear would surely notice that my call did not really sound like a squirrel!

Sure enough, the bear looked up and saw me. He froze. I continued to crouch, facing away from the bear so I didn’t seem threatening. I could only see him out of the corner of my eye. What would he do? I was afraid he would charge me. I scanned for means of protection, and prepared to grab the long thin stick that was on the ground in front of me. I could brandish the stick and stand tall. Or maybe hide behind the tree nearby. The bear was probably also trying to figure out what to do! He snorted and snuffled very loudly, and retreated about 10 yards back up the hill. Was he smelling me? He paused and looked to see if I would pursue.

I was still afraid he might charge back at me. I stayed as still as I could. The bear snorted and snuffled some more, very loudly, and then lumbered about another 20 yards up the hill, behind some trees. He paused again, and then snorted and snuffled away until I couldn’t hear him any more. What a gift! I wished I had looked at the bear some more while I had the chance, but I didn’t want him to think I was aggressive.

Suddenly, potential danger over, I felt very tired. I noticed it was very hot in the sun. I wanted to taste more of the bear’s presence. I wanted to follow him! It is always that way for me after magical contact with bears and other wild creatures. The visit is too short, and I want more.

I sat down and sensed into what had just occurred. It seemed to me that there were two levels of interaction going on. The level of the animal soul was obvious; my attention had gone to survival, and I believe the bear’s had too. We were both assessing each other as a potential threat, and determining the best course of action to take for protection. But it seemed there was another level on which the bear had contacted me. I had the sense that within or including the animal being there was a spirit being that was looking at me. It seemed that spirit being had a message for me. The feeling-tone was benevolent and protective. I recall that even now, more than five years later, though I didn’t write it down in my journal. At the time I wrote that the message from the bear was that if I am humble and have basic trust, I can stand my ground. The meaning of this has continued to unfold for me over time, with my sense of being able to trust in reality growing and deepening over the years. It has allowed me to act from an inner ground of confidence and support that can speak with gentleness rather than the protective anger I have used and written about extensively on this blog! The other impact of the bear encounter was that I felt called to do more to protect the bear. This theme also has continued to unfold over the years.

Wow, what an amazing, wonderful thing to happen on my medicine walk! It was still well before noon, but I felt that having seen moose and now bear, my day was complete. What else could compare to this? However, I was walking until dusk, so there was still a long way to go! To be continued…

The birds and the bees

I looked around the green meadow, enjoying the quiet and the sunshine. A plant with holly-like leaves bloomed nearby. It had delicate yellow corn-kernel blossoms that smelled like daffodils. A bird landed on a branch close by and peeped. I made the sound of the “come to me” bird, and the little one flew closer. I called again and it fluttered near me, perched, fluttered near, perched, fluttered to me a third time, and then flew away. I wondered what this meant, sure it had some kind of significance. Feeling drowsy and content, I slipped into sleep.

A mosquito buzzed me while I napped, but I covered my face and drowsed on, determined to catch my own zees! After a while I woke, and looked around the meadow again. I noticed the flowers of the ground cover plant stone crop. Tiny pale pink bells with deep pink tips. The air smelled of sweet pine in the sun. A small fuzzy beige bee with a very long needle nose landed on the stone crop. Then a very big fat yellow bee with a loud buzz showed up. It buzzed around me for quite a while. It was at least an inch long! It seemed to me that nature was very friendly and glad I was here. The big bee landed on my jacket, right over my heart. Could it smell the sweetness flowing there?

My spot grew shady, so I moved over a little into the sun. My movement must have startled an animal, for I heard a deer or moose bounding away through the trees. I did some yoga, and all the stretches I knew for various parts of my body that have been injured over the years. I stood up after I’d done the final resting pose, and saw a hawk gliding silently overhead. It was very close and I could see the sun flashing on its feathers. I swatted at a mosquito and it flew away.

This spot was shady now too, and I debated what to do. It was so pleasant here, but maybe I should walk on. Little did I know I was about to have an encounter that would change my life forever! To be continued…

A morning nap in the meadow

After the moose had disappeared from sight, I continued up the dirt track made by vehicles driving directly on the earth. In a few places the deep ruts told the tale of mud and I remembered a truck that had once almost gotten stuck there one muddy spring when the driver came to haul away my 100-pound propane tanks. I went south, following the call of the “come to me” bird.

When I reached the south end of my property I crossed the fence line and followed an old logging trail to a spot I had never seen before. There I found four downed fir. Two had been cut and abandoned, and two had fallen on their own. Although this was over five years ago, and I have never been to this exact spot since, I can vividly recall the orientation of the trees, and the sadness I felt about the trees that had been cut and abandoned. I counted the rings on one of the cut trees and discovered that it was 275 years old. I offered Reiki for the trees and the land, apologizing for the stupidity of the people who had cut down these magnificent trees. I prayed for the awakening and healing of the planet and my people.

I kept walking, seeking higher ground that was touched by the sun already. I wanted to find a spot in the sun to rest and meditate. It is a long day, wandering from dawn to dusk with no food! So part of the way I fill the day is to linger over my daily practices of meditation and yoga. I had a pack with rain clothes, spare socks, water for the day, and my journal and pen. As the day warmed up it would hold my gloves and hat, and gradually other layers of clothing too. The rain clothes have never been useful in the rain, but on this day they served me well as a yoga mat and meditation cushion. I spread them under a tree that was touched by the sun, but as soon as I sat down three spiders parachuted down beside me. Feeling somewhat like Ms. Muffet, I moved to the hill beside the tree and sat down to meditate. That accomplished, I moved onto some flat ground to take a nap! It is interesting how my eyes view nature in such a utilitatarian way. Spots for naps, for yoga, for sitting, for lying down! But it is a wonderful thing to lay down in green grass in sunlight to take a nap. To be continued…

What is my purpose?

As you might have guessed from my last entry, this time when I set out on the medicine walk I was determined not to get my feet wet. At least not until after the sun came up! I set out at about 4:25 am, with a cool morning temperature of 1° C. I paused at the threshold I’d chosen, a natural doorway formed by two trees. I offered sage to the spirits of the four directions, and asked them to be with me on the walk. This was perhaps the first time I spoke to the spirits this way, and I was slow and awkward. I informed them of my purpose for the medicine walk. I wanted to find out what the purpose would be on my upcoming vision fast. Though I had many ideas, I had no clarity as to the most important wish to focus on. As my teacher Jed advised, I would hold my question close to me all through the day.

Formalities accomplished, I set out along the dirt road that led through the gates of Monkey Valley. I wondered what magic the day might hold for me. What is it like to step through the threshold into the world of spirit? I felt open, curious, light, and innocent. I followed the road north, taking the right-hand fork that swung around to the east to ford the creek. Sometimes I ford the creek by climbing along an old log fence, but this time I wanted to follow nature’s path, so I went along the creek until I found a log that was wide enough to cross on. When I reached the road on the far side of the creek, I followed the overgrown track that went south down the valley, gradually climbing from the level of the creek to about twenty feet above it.

Suddenly I heard a loud sound. Moose! I looked down to the valley floor, and saw a beautiful ungainly creature running through the grasses below. Was it male or female? It had no antlers, as far as I could tell, and didn’t seem to be pregnant, nor to have a little one nearby. I think the moose had heard my own ungainly passage, for it took shelter behind some bushes. I waited a little while for the moose to emerge again, thinking “Moose is more patient than me.” But I was wrong, for the moose resumed its journey. I watched the glimpses of rich brown limbs and hump as the moose crossed the valley floor and disappeared into the trees on the other side. I am patient! Perhaps this discovery was the first gift of my day’s journey. To be continued…

Walking into a vision

It might not always be obvious, but the purpose of this blog is to share my experiences in the wild, my explorations of what it means to be wild, and my love of the wild. It is also to inform you, dear reader, so that you can explore these things yourself, and perhaps one day choose to do a vision fast of your own. My hope is that through sharing my experiences, you will be inspired to awaken to the depths of your own nature, as well as your own deep connection with the natural world. If you know this connection, and feel it deeply, you too will want to do what you can to protect this beautiful earth that we live on.

Sometimes I share other aspects of my life, but in looking back over the entries I’ve made over the past 28 months, I think there is a cohesiveness to how the different subjects tie together. My inner explorations and the adventures I’ve had in the natural world are two strands of the marvellous thread of growing as a person and soul on this earth, and my attempts to bring the inner maturation into concrete form in the outer world form another strand. This is, after all, the purpose of the vision fast—to have our visions, yes, and then to bring them to life for our people.

My intention now and for the next while is to start sharing specific stories from the vision fasts that I’ve had the privilege of experiencing. Today, I’d like to tell you about one of the first medicine walks I ever went on, in preparation for my first vision fast, which I was going to do with my ecopsychology classmates at Naropa University. This was my second attempt at the medicine walk in preparation for the vision fast. On the first one, which I attempted in mid-May, 2005, I accidentally stepped in springwater and soaked my feet within 10 mintues of setting out. The temperature was still below freezing at that early hour of the morning, and I was afraid I might get hypothermia with my feet, socks, and boots so wet. So my first lesson was: always bring an extra pair of wool socks! And I went back to the cabin at Monkey Valley, determined to try again another day.

The next time I set out on my pre-vision fast medicine walk, it was May 27, 2005. I wanted to prepare myself for the vision fast by trying out my gear, so I’d set up my tarp in a grove of lodgepole pine near my cabin the previous day, and slept outside overnight. I woke at about 4:00 am, with the birds announcing the imminence of the day in loud song. I heard grouse drumming and great horned owl hooting. Many birds were calling me forth to walk the sacred walk! That spring I kept hearing the “come to me” call of an unidentified bird, and she was calling me this morning too. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the astonishing sight of the moon in the sky peering at me through the opening at the foot of my tarp. To be continued…

Is yoga and ChiRunning the answer?

Last weekend, Angela James and I, along with two musicians and eight participants, had a fantastic time at the ChiRunning and yoga retreat at Monkey Valley. It was the most beautiful time of year, with flowers of dozens of varieties in bloom, the grass waist-high, and visiting birds of many colours flitting through the willows by the creek. We had delicious meals, moments of quiet contemplation during the morning meditations, exciting discoveries about ChiRunning, relaxation and enjoyment during the yoga, and incredible fun around the campfire with the sing-along, guitar music, cello numbers, and smores! We went for a swim in Missezula Lake, and some of us ran back to Monkey Valley from there. It felt like a real blessing to me to see the posse of runners up ahead, running along the logging road. As if my heart’s desire had been answered by sharing this magical place with other runners.

Last entry, I was musing about how I am being called to serve my people. Last summer (or maybe the summer before) my friend John Harper had asked me the astonishing question “What if the universe doesn’t want you to do anything?” The heart of this question, it seems to me, is considering the possibility that I don’t have to crawl a hundred miles on hands and knees, but can just let the soft animal of my body love what it loves (to paraphrase Mary Oliver). That is, maybe there is nothing in particular I need to do. Just be. Maybe I don’t need to stop the oil eruption, or change the way Canadians feel about banking, forever (my current client’s dream), or lead people on intensive vision quests in the wilderness. Maybe I can just be an ordinary person, and see what unfolds.

The yoga and ChiRunning retreat unfolded with absolute ease from the moment I took Angela’s workshop in January. Certainly there was some hard work involved along the way, especially in cooking for 12 people, but there was a flow and element of surprise and delight throughout, such as when my friend Darch offered to come a day early and help out. It seems to me that this type of flow and ease is what I long for, and what seems like true guidance about direction. I continue to hold the question as my summer unfolds, with another trip to Monkey Valley coming up and then the annual Diamond Approach summer retreat at Asilomar later in August. Maybe my desire to serve in some big, special way is just an ego trip, and all I need to be is an ordinary person, special just because I am, just like you are special just because you are.

Top photo: Joe Charron. Middle and bottom photos: Lorinda Wei.

Medicine walk and 5th anniversary of BC Wilderness Visions

BC Wilderness Visions and the Monkey Valley Retreat Centre celebrates its 5th anniversary of nature programs this summer! The first program was a medicine wheel teaching in the summer of 2005, when 25 people came to Monkey Valley and created a beautiful medicine wheel. Teachers Joyce Lyke and Tracy Leach taught us how to walk the wheel, and people came from California, Wyoming, Ontario, Alberta, and from as far away as the UK to attend this special teaching. The wheel is still there, and last May I lined the spring-to-summer quarter of it with stones. This summer I plan to fill in the next quarter of the wheel.

July also marks the two-year anniversary of this blog! Two years ago my friend John Harper encouraged me to begin writing about ecopsychology and the work I do in nature. Since then I have shared many stories of the land at Monkey Valley, wilderness work, and my happy trails and trials running. Writing this blog has been an expression of my heart as I have shared stories with you of the things that I love. The creativity of writing whatever I feel like in a blog format has felt like a flow of fun and lightness of spirit (with an occasional dash of despair about my unruly ways). I sometimes wonder if anyone reads this blog, but I do hear from one or two readers from time to time! So please join me in celebrating this two-year anniversary, and drop me a note to let me know you’re out there!

This year I am offering a new program at Monkey Valley, together with Angela James—the ChiRunning and yoga retreat July 23 – 25. In addition, it will be the third summer in a row of putting a faster out on the land to fast for a vision, using the ancient and modern ceremony of the vision fast. And, on June 20, I brought the four-shields teaching and medicine walk to Vancouver in a new day-long format.

Two beautiful souls accompanied me to the forest beside the Seymour River in North Vancouver, where we created an altar in a clearing on the bank of the river. Using the form of speaking from the heart known as council practice, we did several rounds. The first round was in honour of our fathers and Father’s Day. It was very moving to express appreciation for the gifts our fathers have given us. The second round was in honour of the summer solstice. Then the participants spoke of their intention for their medicine walks.

Although it was a cloudy day, the land was lush and green, and bursting with salmon berries. Although the participants were to fast from food, shelter, and human companionship during their walks, I left it up to their own inner guidance whether to make like bears and enjoy the berries! While my two friends went on their three-hour walks, I sat beside the river, and drank in the silence and beauty. The water rushed by, green and playful. Sometimes the spumes of white foam curling over rocks looked like little skunks swimming upstream. Swallows swooped low, eating bugs in the air over the river, and one swallow circled, swooped, and darted around in a long loop about five times before seeking new bugscapes. A bald eagle flew upriver high overhead, and a pair of ducks sped downstream in a formation as tight as fighter pilots. What a gift it was to have this unhurried time to watch nature do her thing. As time went on the quieting of my mind deepened, and the trees across the river began to reveal their mysteries in a way that the ordinary waking mind cannot hear.

The richness of my solo time was enhanced by knowing my companions would be back soon, with stories to tell of what happened on their walks. They returned with gifts of stories and berries, and we ate a meal together in the circle before sharing the stories. It was very moving to hear how the land and her creatures had interacted with my friends on their walks. I felt a deep appreciation for this special place, and for the people who were willing to take time to be with themselves in a quiet, intimate way. After we closed the circle, packed our things, and said goodbye to the spot that had held our ceremony, we hiked out through the forest trails feeling a little lighter and closer to our hearts.

Your one wild and precious life

Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
– Mary Oliver, 1992

Do you ever wonder what you’re doing with your life, and whether it is truly fulfilling your deepest joy, your purpose here, right now, on this earth, in this lifetime? Do you ever feel like maybe you’re not quite in alignment with your deepest values? Do you seek to find the right balance for yourself between obligations to your self, your people, your work, and your place?

It is a precious gift to have the chance to live in a body on this beautiful earth. I’d like to tell you about two events that celebrate both the earth and our connection to it.

Radical Joy for Hard Times is celebrating our love for the earth through an event called the Global Earth Exchange, on June 19. This is a do-it-yourself kind of event, where you find a place near where you live that has been wounded, perhaps by human activities or perhaps by a natural disaster. Go there on June 19, with a few friends or alone, and create something of beauty in that place. It could be a song, drumming, bringing flowers, planting a tree, picking up trash, or anything else you might like to do to bring beauty to the area. That’s it. Pretty simple. Just letting your heart express its love for the earth by caring for a place that could use a little attention. If you’d like to be a part of the event in a more formal way, there are resources on the Global Earth Exchange web site.

If you are wondering how to connect with the earth and bring your gifts into the world, I invite you to join me on a medicine walk on June 20. I’d love to share with you this ceremonial way of walking on the earth and seeking guidance from the more-than-human world. I’ve reduced the fee to $30, but heck, if money is an issue for you, you can participate for free. Just use the form on the Registration page to sign up, and I’ll contact you with the details about where to meet on the morning of the 20th. Then we’ll carpool to the Seymour River (about a 15-minute drive) and spend a day together in the woods.

Both of these events occur on the weekend of the summer solstice. Connecting with the earth in a conscious way is a wonderful way to mark the turning of the seasons. If neither of these events appeal to you, perhaps you will find your own way to mark the passage from spring into summer.

Rites of spring and a tramp through the woods

Last November I closed up the house at Monkey Valley for the winter, and crossed my fingers that the place and plumbing would fare well. Last weekend my sister and I went to Monkey Valley to open up the house for the spring. I was delighted to discover that there were no plumbing problems after a winter of freezing temperatures in this high mountain place! Just one washer to replace in a tap, and a spill to clean up because the laundry detergent decided to fall off the shelf and spread over the floor. While this led to a minor bout of cursing (laundry soap is very foamy and hard to clean up!), it was such a relief to be able to turn on the water and use it right away, and not to need a plumber in to fix leaks. I think that after 8 years of winterizing the plumbing I’ve finally got it down!

As an added bonus, the house was still in immaculate shape, as I left it, with no disturbances from the little friends that nature often sends to visit me!

On the holiday Monday, my friend Angela of ChiRunning fame came to visit, along with her partner, Joe Charron, and the other member of their musical trio, Wahl. After a birthday lunch for Joe (which included an awesome chocolate cake that Angela just happened to bring along!), we all went for a tramp around the property. I took them over hill and dale, climbing fences and fording the creek twice as we circled the 160 acres of the property. It was a great afternoon, with Joe identifying some of the plants whose names I still don’t know, and Wahl making jokes and taking pix. We just may have convinced the two guys to lead some campfire sing-alongs at the retreat in July.

After seeing the lay of the land, Angela was able to plan the ChiRunning focuses to teach at our upcoming retreat. As well as the basic ChiRunning focuses, she will be teaching techniques for hill running and trail running. Here is a flyer for the ChiRunning & yoga retreat at Monkey valley that Angela created. Please feel free to print it out and give copies to your friends. We look forward to seeing you there!