medicine walk – Karen's New York Love Affair

Are you ready to connect with your wild nature?

On June 21 I will be guiding another medicine walk excursion in North Vancouver. The medicine walk is a way to connect with nature, and especially the wildness and beauty of your own inner nature. I will be teaching the nature psychology of the four directions, and then people will have the chance for a 2-hour solo walk to find out for themselves how this ancient teaching can connect them with their inner guidance and the guidance that nature offers us.

Do you have a burning question about your life, your purpose, your soul? Are you seeking guidance, and ready to look within? If so, I invite you to join with a few other explorers on a day-trip to discovery. June 21 is the summer solstice, and the energy of the universe will be adding to the powerful energy of the beautiful spot in nature where we will be walking. See the Programs page for more information.

Afterward

June 21 was a gorgeous day on the west coast. My friend Marvin and I hiked 16 KM along the Seymour River. We didn’t follow the strict format of the medicine walk, but did spend some time in contemplation as we rested by the water. He taught me how to say “moss-covered stones” in Esperanto: musko kovrita stono. Sounds pretty Russian to me! The cool water flowing over the musko kovrita stono was serene and refreshing. The green of the forest was a soothing balm for my soul. Spending time in nature was a wonderful way to mark the turning of the seasons. It heralded a new way of being in the world for me—more at ease, taking time to enjoy the pleasure of my friends’ company and the beauty of the natural world. While I didn’t consciously bring a question as on a traditional medicine walk, the spontaneous unfolding of insight occurred nonetheless. Life can be gentle and flowing, like the river on the first day of summer. Perhaps that can be my default position, rather than the frozen stillness of winter or the turbulence of the spring run-off. We’ll see!

2014 writing and programs at BC Wilderness Visions

With the sale of Monkey Valley in 2013, I have contemplated what to do about this blog and the nature programs I like to offer, such as the vision fast, medicine walk, yoga in nature, and other ideas that are percolating in my mind.

This year I will offer my favourite do-it-yourself type of nature program, the medicine walk, with a teaching on the nature psychology of four directions. I am excited to be offering this program again. The 2011 day trip to the North Shore mountains was a day I still remember with gladness. I hope that you will decide to join me on this year’s adventure! See the Programs page for details.

I love writing for this blog. Perhaps it’s selfish of me, because it’s like a Natalie Goldberg Writing Down the Bones homework assignment. I just write what I feel like writing, when I feel like it. I don’t pay too much attention to grammar, given the informal nature of this genre, though I do like to make sure the spelling is right! One or two of the serial stories I’ve written here have been published in other places. And even some of the photos. So it’s a fertile ground for a writer. But mostly it’s just fun.

Now and then a reader discovers the site and enjoys browsing through some of the bizarre things I’ve written over the years. And once in a while what I’ve written strikes a chord and provides support on someone’s journey through life. That is what really makes this blog worthwhile. Like the recent comment from Hannah about her spiritual experience with cougars.

So I guess I’ll just keep writing about whatever strikes my fancy, loosely following the theme of nature spirituality. Stay tuned!

Medicine Walk: Wisdom of the Four Directions—June 23, 2012

Finding Healing and Guidance in Nature

June 23, 2012 – Vancouver

“Journeys start from where we are. Everything starts from where we are. Where we are is where we’re supposed to be.” – Evelyn Eaton, The Shaman and the Medicine Wheel

This day-trip in the North Shore mountains, just 20 minutes from downtown Vancouver, and 10 minutes from the Commercial Drive area, will teach you tools and ceremonies for working in nature to access your own inner guidance and the guidance that nature can bring. This could be in the form of answers to questions, deepening connection with the greater mystery, healing, letting go, accepting, or gaining new strength. Whatever you need is available to you, and can be reflected to you through the mirror of nature. You will learn different ways of working with the four directions to access this guidance.

Our ceremony will begin with setting our intentions for the day and creating a sacred container for learning by creating an altar together. You will learn the four shields, an ancient model of understanding the psyche of humans and nature. Each shield corresponds to a cardinal direction, with its own colours, textures, seasons, stages of life, and qualities of true nature.

Then you’ll explore what you’ve learned on a solo medicine walk. After brief instruction, you will go on your own solo walk in nature, seeking guidance from our dear earth mother and her diverse creatures. Following in the footsteps of our ancestors from many cultures and traditions, this solo time includes fasting from food, human company, and human-built shelters. At the end of the day we will break our fast together with brown-bag lunches while we share our stories with each other around the circle.

See here for an account of last year’s inspirational medicine walk by the rushing Seymour River.

9:00 AM to 5:00 PM Saturday
We’ll meet at a location in the Commercial Drive area and carpool from there. Bring your lunch. Wear comfortable shoes for walking on hiking trails, as part of the day will be spent wandering through the woods by the Seymour River.

Cost: $50 (free for those who wish to participate if the fee is an obstacle)
To register, please fill in the online Registration Form. For payment information, see Fees.

Nature’s mirror and guidance on the medicine walk

On Saturday, July 16, three hardy souls joined me for the four directions teaching and medicine walk at the Lower Seymour Conservation Reserve. The day was grey but our hearts were light as we joined together in the ancient ceremony of sitting in circle on the earth. Our basecamp was in a sand-floored clearing beside the Seymour River. The river’s water level was much higher than it was during last year’s event, due to all the rain Vancouver has been getting this year. I was worried that the entire clearing might be under water, but luckily, there was space for us to put up a tarp to seek shelter from the rain. The participants helped me to erect the tarp, and I must say we erected a very skookum shelter for ourselves! There was a slight mishap with a falling branch, but luckily no harm was done and it became part of our group story for the day.

There was a berry-filled bank of bushes containing the gold to ruby tones of salmon berries, and we stopped to sample these on our way to the basecamp site, and again on our way back up the trail at the end of the day. It is so wonderful to find literal as well as figurative nourishment from nature, freely offered! One of the gifts of the south and summertime is the lush fruits of the earth, there to pluck and to share with the other creatures.

Once our shelter was ready, we set up an altar with coloured stones for the four directions. Each person placed an object that was special to them on the altar, and we had a circle-round of sharing our current state in the moment and our intentions for the walk. I felt very moved by how strongly each person had felt called to come on this walk to explore something they cared deeply about. When I set the date and put out the offering for the day’s event, I offered the day quite lightly (partly because I never know if anyone will want to accept the offer), but it seems to send forth an energetic beam that draws people who are really into what I am offering. This is magical to me, and I am so grateful. As I have mentioned previously on this blog, the flow of events unfolding is an important indicator to me of how to offer my gifts into the world. If I offer something and there is no response, I conclude either it is not the right time, or it is not the right offering. This year three people came, and a few others almost came, so this tells me the flow is happening! And that bringing the nature teaching closer to Vancouver (rather than only offering events at Monkey Valley) was a good idea. I feel so psyched about the medicine walk day that I am inspired to offer a yoga and the four directions workshop in the same location in September!

After a teaching on the four directions, and some grounding in safety principles for their solo walk, the three participants set off on their three-hour meander through the woods. When they returned, all safe and not even too wet considering the heavy downpour that occurred during the first hour of their walk, I felt joyful to see their faces. We had a late lunch together, and each person told their story of what occurred during their walk. It was such a gift to hear how nature responded to their open-hearted intentions. Each person had a unique story, and it was fascinating how the details of their journey reflected their inner guidance and wisdom. The mirroring of nature is so beautiful! I am always amazed at how it seems that exactly what is needed is what occurs on the medicine walk, in the sacred space of the ancient ceremony. The perfection of the unfolding of the universe is revealed so clearly when the intention is to see.

Beckoned: reflections on the medicine walk

Seeking meaning in our experiences is a human compulsion. It is part of how we build and maintain our self-image and our view of reality. Looking back at the meaning I derived from my medicine walk, I am struck by how I concluded that the day’s adventures affirmed my affection and love for the land. I felt that the land and her creatures were innocent, and I wanted to protect them. I believed in the power of the ceremony, and the sacredness of the interactions I had with the various animals and nature beings on my journey.

Even though the mosquito breeding ground terrified me, I accepted the tormented run home as a demonstration of the actions of my mind, always pushing me on, frustrated, unable to rest and be at peace. How willing I was to open to the postive in my experience! Perhaps this is one of the gifts of the vision fast ceremony: learning to view all that is arising as part of something mysterious and beautiful.

I was beckoned by the many encounters with wild creatures. Beckoned to listen to the bear, telling me that if I am humble and have basic trust, I can stand my ground. Beckoned by moose telling me I am awakening to the preciousness of my life’s journey. Enchanted by the surprising almond scent of the mushrooms. Loved and held by the giant, ancient fir tree. Instructed by the stern granite rock face. Entertained and companioned by the chattering pika. Beckoned beyond just the adventures of the day, into a new calling for creating sacred ceremony with others in nature. Aho!

A pesky, mad dash home

The “something else” that awaited me was being chased by blood-thirsty mosquitoes all the way home! I followed the ravine between the giant old fir tree and the rock face, heading northwest towards Monkey Valley. Suddenly I heard an angry buzzing. It was amazingly loud. So loud it was terrifying. It sounded like a gigantic power plant buzzing with electric charge.

I headed uphill quick, out of the ravine. I saw that ahead the ravine was marshy. It must be a mosquito breeding ground, with the wetness. And the warm spring sunshine of the past few days must have sparked the hatching process. Holy toledo! What a racket!

I headed away from this area as quickly as I could, but some of the mosquitoes found me and chased me all the way home. If I stopped to kill them (not a good idea on a Medicine Walk, when all life is to be treated as sacred), more appeared. They were vicious and determined. I was bitten at least 8 times. Each bite set up an angry itching in my body.

I felt so happy when I crossed Galena Creek Road, ran down the 100 metres to my gate, and was back on my land. Of course the mosquitoes didn’t care about property boundaries, and continued to chase after me. I stopped and said “Fuck off” to the mosquitoes. It happened that a deer was on the road just there. My cursing startled it, and it stotted away. I admired its magnificent, big life-force as it jumped into the forest. I apologized, “I didn’t mean you, dear deer!” Darn.

The temperature dropped as I entered the valley. The sun was behind the cliffs on the western edge of my land. Amazing, it was almost dusk! I jogged most of the last 3/4 mile to elude the mosquitoes, anticipating having a nice oatmeal bath to sooth the itching. When I reached the house, I crossed through the threshold rather quickly, anxious to get inside and away from the mosquitoes. Hmm. What a day! Moose, bear, pika, deer, and mosquitoes! Did I learn about the purpose for my upcoming vision fast? Or was it just a meaningless series of events and encounters? I thanked the spirits for being with me on the walk, and crossed back into ordinary life. To be continued…

Fear and longing in the forest

As I mentioned last time, the land felt very different once I crossed the Galena Creek logging road, headed east. It didn’t feel friendly anymore. I kept hiking east, taking down more logging ribbon as I found it. Soon my pockets were full of plastic ribbon. I came to a ravine, and didn’t feel like hiking down it and back up and then doing the same again on my way back. I sat down to wait for a sign of how to proceed. Ouch! I sat on a prickly juniper shoot, and got back up again. Mosquitoes buzzed at me, harassing me. I decided to go back to the house and get some insect repellent.

I headed back a slightly different way, and came to a rock face with a boulder slide. I’d never seen this before. A triangular cleft in the rock face beckoned to me. I climbed up to it and sat there, pressed into the rock face. I was worried that rocks would fall on me from above. I tried to ignore this fear, and spoke to the rock mountain, telling it why I was on this medicine walk. I was looking for my purpose. The purpose to carry with me on the upcoming vision quest. My life purpose. The purpose of this day. Why am I on this planet? What am I supposed to be doing here? Is it ever going to get better? The wish for meaning has set me on the spiritual journey. I can’t accept that there is no meaning at all, as so many people seem to believe. Maybe the seeking itself is the point, as Rilke says: cherish the questions themselves. I set my anguish of meaninglessness before the mountain, but I didn’t hear an answer to these big questions that pressed on my soul. Instead, the mountain told me not to listen to people when I didn’t feel like it! Hmm. That was a surprise. (Maybe the mountain didn’t feel like listening to me?)

Across from the rock face was a giant old fir tree. I thought it might be 400 or 500 years old. I felt cold on the cliff, and the tree beckoned to me with kindness. I offered Reiki to the rock face of the mountain, pressing my hands into the cool rough granite, and then climbed down and scrabbled over the boulder slide. I climbed the slight grade of rocks, soil, and grass, and found a spot to sit under the fir, facing the rock slide and rock cliff. A pika came out from between the boulders and spoke to me. It hid, and then popped up and spoke again. This happened many times. I spoke back, but don’t know what we said! I asked where its tail was, for it seemed to be missing. My heart was gladdened by the comfort of the tree and the contact with the little pika.

I noticed there were more mosquitoes here under the tree than there had been on the rock face. I saw how my mind is like a mosquito—never at rest, always driving me on. I felt restless, and wanted something else. I noticed I got fir tree sap on the orange fleece sweater I was sitting on. Fuck! I tried to sense into what I was wanting. Food, a book to read, rich creamy essence. I must be feeling empty. The sun was just hanging in the sky, not moving at all. Maybe I should have stayed on the cliff until it got dark. I guess I’ll just trust that something else awaits, I decided, yielding to the restlessness. To be continued…

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…