Stone Age Hunters on the move:

Hi folks!

I am re-printing this article from here:

I find it fascinating and think people should know.

It might however stir up a storm of controversy among First Nations People…..

New evidence suggests Stone Age hunters from Europe discovered America

New archaeological evidence suggests that America was first discovered by Stone Age people from Europe – 10,000 years before the Siberian-originating ancestors of the American Indians set foot in the New World.

A remarkable series of several dozen European-style stone tools, dating back between 19,000 and 26,000 years, have been discovered at six locations along the US east coast. Three of the sites are on the Delmarva Peninsular in Maryland, discovered by archaeologist Dr Darrin Lowery of the University of Delaware. One is in Pennsylvania and another in Virginia. A sixth was discovered by scallop-dredging fishermen on the seabed 60 miles from the Virginian coast on what, in prehistoric times, would have been dry land.

The new discoveries are among the most important archaeological breakthroughs for several decades – and are set to add substantially to our understanding of humanity’s spread around the globe.

The similarity between other later east coast US and European Stone Age stone tool technologies has been noted before. But all the US European-style tools, unearthed before the discovery or dating of the recently found or dated US east coast sites, were from around 15,000 years ago – long after Stone Age Europeans (the Solutrean cultures of France and Iberia) had ceased making such artefacts. Most archaeologists had therefore rejected any possibility of a connection. But the newly-discovered and recently-dated early Maryland and other US east coast Stone Age tools are from between 26,000 and 19,000 years ago – and are therefore contemporary with the virtually identical western European material.

What’s more, chemical analysis carried out last year on a European-style stone knife found in Virginia back in 1971 revealed that it was made of French-originating flint.

Professor Dennis Stanford, of the Smithsonian Institution in Washington DC, and Professor Bruce Bradley of the University of Exeter, the two leading archaeologists who have analysed all the evidence, are proposing that Stone Age people from Western Europe migrated to North America at the height of the Ice Age by travelling (over the ice surface and/or by boat) along the edge of the frozen northern part of the Atlantic. They are presenting their detailed evidence in a new book – Across Atlantic Ice – published this month.

At the peak of the Ice Age, around three million square miles of the North Atlantic was covered in thick ice for all or part of the year.

However, the seasonally shifting zone where the ice ended and the open ocean began would have been extremely rich in food resources – migrating seals, sea birds, fish and the now-extinct northern hemisphere penguin-like species, the great auk.

Stanford and Bradley have long argued that Stone Age humans were quite capable of making the 1500 mile journey across the Atlantic ice – but till now there was comparatively little evidence to support their thinking.

But the new Maryland, Virginia and other US east coast material, and the chemical tests on the Virginian flint knife, have begun to transform the situation. Now archaeologists are starting to investigate half a dozen new sites in Tennessee, Maryland and even Texas – and these locations are expected to produce more evidence.

Another key argument for Stanford and Bradley’s proposal is the complete absence of any human activity in north-east Siberia and Alaska prior to around 15,500 years ago. If the Maryland and other east coast people of 26,000 to 19,000 years ago had come from Asia, not Europe, early material, dating from before 19,000 years ago, should have turned up in those two northern areas, but none have been found.

Although Solutrean Europeans may well have been the first Americans, they had a major disadvantage compared to the Asian-originating Indians who entered the New World via the Bering Straits or along the Aleutian Islands chain after 15,500 years ago.

Whereas the Solutreans had only had a 4500 year long ‘Ice Age’ window to carry out their migratory activity, the Asian-originating Indians had some 15,000 years to do it. What’s more, the latter two-thirds of that 15 millennia long period was climatologically much more favourable and substantially larger numbers of Asians were therefore able to migrate.

As a result of these factors the Solutrean (European originating) Native Americans were either partly absorbed by the newcomers or were substantially obliterated by them either physically or through competition for resources.

Some genetic markers for Stone Age western Europeans simply don’t exist in north- east Asia – but they do in tiny quantities among some north American Indian groups. Scientific tests on ancient DNA extracted from 8000 year old skeletons from Florida have revealed a high level of a  key probable European-originating genetic marker. There are also a tiny number of  isolated Native American groups whose languages appear not to be related in any way to Asian-originating American  Indian peoples.

But the greatest amount of evidence is likely to come from under the ocean – for most of the areas where the Solutreans would have stepped off the Ice onto dry land are now up to 100 miles out to sea.

The one underwater site that has been identified – thanks to the scallop dredgers – is set to be examined in greater detail this summer – either by extreme-depth divers or by remotely operated mini submarines equipped with cameras and grab arms.


what do you think??

Here is a wicki link to the Solutrean culture:

When something goes wrong……

All is well…..     

at first….


Do not break it!

It is fragile!

Page of Disks:

The innocence of a baby asleep.

Yet unconscious of the growing potential represented by the plant in its hand.

Beaded moccasins, that have never tread the living Earth, never stepped onto anything and so also never over-stepped.

The baby is swaddled.

Gentle, swaddling makes babies feel save, reminds them of the tightness of the womb.

There will have to come a day, when parents have to loosen that swaddling cloth, to allow more freedom of movement, of growth.

They have to trust, that that will be all right.

That the emerging little Self will provide the bounds within which it will grow.

There will be pitfalls and stumbles and the moccasins will have to be replaced by running shoes.

It will all be about running free, about evolving …

…about revealing beautiful Eagle’s wings beneath the swaddling,

and ultimately about unfurling these wings in order to fly free.

Ace of Swords:

What went wrong?

What fear gripped a doting parent?

-What notion of insecurity transferred to the fledgeling Eagle that he

was OK with being tied down, fixed into place -?

Now :

A beating heart thumping against tight bonds swaddling the chest.

What feelings are they supposed to restrain?

What does it feel like having them welling up regardless.

Can he hear his thumping heart, thumping yearning messages into the mind of the predator Bird born to soar free?

Those magnificent wings!

Have they ever tasted the wind?

Is his head hanging low.

Deep in meditation?

Forgoing instant gratification for later gain?

Gain of what? Wisdom?

Or is he depressed resigned to the fate of a caged Spirit?

Or is he plotting to break free?

The burning desire to exercise his flight feathers is setting his gut into flames….

Will these flames burn away the bonds?

What’s with the tightly bound groin?

The seat of sexual desire, urge and lust , when bound like this is a time bomb, ready to explode…..

What fear made these constrains necessary?

What deranged mind thought they are the answer?

Was it a quest for knowledge, that started this?

The notion, that suppressing one power will give you another?

He now knows.

It is time to loosen these bonds.

What will we see, if these bonds come of – finally?

What – – if –

What if it is too late?

Damage done, fuse burnt – right through the Soul?

Imprinting the fear?

Then we might have a soul-sick predator on our hands……



Ace of Wands.! ?


Is THAT, what this is supposed to be?

I read the book – about this being the untamed heat and energy of the sun….

That is not, what I see.

Sometime it is a rather heavy burden, to know – too much – about mental health – and what it looks like, when that falls apart.

The RN in me, the trained professional in me knows and has seen it = THIS very scenario in the card more than once.

I learned to read  artwork like this, find the tortured Soul between the strokes of the brush, the charcoal  sketches, the drawings a knife or other sharp object rendered onto bleeding skin.

Legs being a prime canvas…

Bellies too…

On more than one occasion that, what is shaman in me has had to slip into the chaos-ripped Soul of the patient, in order to pull him/ her back from the brink of annihilation.

This is, what it feels like, when the voices call hither and fro, when the soul does not know anymore, where to turn, and then can not turn fast enough – forth and back and forth again.

Male? Or female? Or nothing- or everything or?? What? It changes by the minute – by the voice in the head and the voice of the soul that answers in tortured cries..

Voices! Roaring voices of malicious HATE, voices of angelic beauty commanding him/ her – you to – cut: First the arms and legs,let the blood run free and release the – self hate, the confusion the fear….

But then, just go, try to – cut – then the tail of the Cat, then – the whole Cat –

– Then cut the cord.

The cord that hold the last vestiges of sanity – the bindings, that anchor a person in the reality, where others live….

Others – that’s it!

The “Others” are after you! The voices scream and warn and threaten forth and back and every shadow becomes an “Other” equipped with menacing grin, brandishing a pen or a paintbrush that morphs into a knife, marking the body with blooooood-red fear and an insurmountable urge to escape.

Then, when the cutting of the own flesh is not stilling the voices, is not releasing the pain anymore as it used to, not quieting the fear either….

When starving the body, depriving it of sleep, of food, of water, of nutrition will not kill the daemons, but just ripppppppp the fragile Soul-cover bare and expose it to the glarrrrring light of burning horror, When shielding the errant eyes from this glare of shadowy specters will not bring any relieve or refuge……

Then there is only one escape left: Spread your bloody wings and flee


Will you stumble screaming into the the sanctum of the walled wards and its/ their mind -and Soul numbing pills ?

Been there – done that –

How many times?

Do it again?

Or dare to turn the other way and race on blood dripping wings through the gates of suicide and –

– back into the quiet arms of the Earth Mother?

Mother Church – ??

Mary El Tarot  – The Hierophant / the Pope:


Mother Church:


What poison will you suck from me?

I hold you close, so you can’t see

all the colors of fearful symmetry.

I hold you tight, so you can’t grow,

experience, what’s there to know

Your hunger drains the life from me

Dare I drop you to set me free?

Mother Church


Larger than live, stone deaf and forlorn

Children, dead and guilty before they are borne

conceived beneath pious blankets, brittle and dry

ruled by thin waivers that hide dogma and lie

Raised on wine from aging breasts, sour and stale

and bread devoid of nurture that weathers life’s gale

Hands grabbing young innocence in a lecherous caress

then on Sunday communion of moldy nothingness

Dire whispers of secrets buy silence with shame

instill phantoms of self-hate of mistrust and blame

Allow that to rule your life from cradle to grave

Or will you break out, be a free Soul and brave

Daily draws with the Mary El Tarot

My shamanistic worldview permeates everything in my life:

My work as an artist, my work with my clients and patients and also, how I see art – and the art depicted on Tarot cards.

Sometimes nothing special is “dredged up”

– and sometimes I “go deeeeep”

Welcome to the wild mix of the last few days:

Day 1:

Queen of Disks:

Worm Mother!

You dissolved my sister

3 years ago.

All that is left

are my tears

…. and her diamonds…..


Day 2:

The Wheel of fortune:

The Lady at the helm of her Spirit Boat:

Marseille was back then and is still now a harbor town, who’s luck depended on commerce and the ships from across the sea reaching port with the cargo in sellable condition.

With the Wheel being 10, the skipper is now in experienced enough to be in charge of his ship, his Soul boat.

She has to make decision to sail at all – or safely stay in port – and forgo the chances of rich rewards, because wind, weather, rain, currents and tides may very well leave her at the mercy of fate.

So, bare = naked in the face of the elements he/ she has to rely on feminine intuition and gut feelings (the wheel is at the place of her gut) to steer the ship onward to its destination – or into destiny

The fiery red and somewhat woody hair shows her bravery as well as her stoicism.

The white blindfold alludes to her pure intentions and also that still she has some of the 0, the innocence of the Fool about her.

The flower is at the place of her yony. She is wide open to the experience.


Day 3:

The Hermit is being swept away:

I see the wave of time cresting over him, spewing white wisdom and deep blue emotion that are threatening to drown him. Small swirls of yellow light hint at the glimpses of recognition we have in this sea of wisdom. But the wave is also sweeping him – and so all of us away, onward, before we can consciously grasp it all with aging frail hands.


Day 4:

The Devil makes me write this:

No, Marie, this Devil does not do it for me. Not at all.:(

He/ she is – yes – purple is the he / she color = a mixture of blue and red, but this He/ she devil is way tooooo symmetrical to be real. Too perfect to be taken seriously. There is no fire, no passion, no sexuality, no lust, that addresses the existence of all my hidden lust, leachery and neeeeeeds.

No abyss, no horror either.

Nothing that makes me dread – and fear, so as not to walk all over him

No danger, no warning of consequences,

no trickster spirit, no coowing, crowing greedy grin,

no tempest of temptation. Encountering him in a theta trance journey I would just walk right on by – or through this one, utterly unimpressed.

There are thousands like him, dead and starring…

Like commercials on TV, utterly over-designed and mechanistic/ formulaic

Too perfect, this cute little Lucifer, the top model after which the cristian god – by his own mistake fabricated his followers..

Whirrrrrling Snakes! Well. OK, so what?

I love Snakes …..

I touch them, pick them up, carry them around, rescue them out of bathrooms, I even ate one once. No, it did not taste like chicken….

I know Serpent Power, when it is rising up my spine when I do healing work…..

But this Devil? He does not really deserve Snakes. Put a little bunny with him

to tempt me to steal it…..

and see, what happens!??

With this one?

I bet you, Nothing will happen!


Day 5:

3 of cups:

Nice card.
A river dividing into 3 waterfalls.
So very NOT Mary El.
The message: There are always at least 3 ways to look at something.
In our Siberian tribal belief it says: 3 sides you see, 3 sides stay hidden
3 ways to judge
and fair


Day 6:


Have you turned into a gray haired Pussycat?

Lounging laid back lasciviously in Lilly ponds while licking Lotus?

Where is Mananan?

Foaming wildness that pummeled the drowning Hermit

…. once…………………

…………….64 aeons ago?

How I got my very first Guardian:

I have told you about Fretty, right?!!
Fretty is a Ferret, not a domestic one, but a Siberian one. Fretty has 6 siblings, whom I just remember from when I was small. (They were my Spirit friends – or imaginary friends as we would say here today 🙂 )

I had an imaginary leash and was leading them along wherever I went. My parents knew well about it and my dad showed me pictures in a book about all kinds of Animals, until finally I recognized Fretty, but he still was a little different then the domesticated Ferrets and it took a book about Siberian Wildlife, borrowed from a friend of my dad’s, to find out who Fretty and his siblings were.
My mother was not so pleased, in spite of Ferrets having a quite honorable standing within Gypsy culture and many Roma were known and hired as Ferreters. (hunting Rabbits with Ferrets so the rabbits do not destroy vegetable crops)
Today Fretty is one of my Spirit Helpers, a quite opinionated one that is.
He is GREAT at finding out information.



Somewhere in the archives my teaching notes for my students  there is the story about my first NDE, how I almost died of Diphtheria and in the grip of deadly fever Umai-Ee’ne appeared and did not take me back with her but promised me to send someone who would watch over me and then shortly after that I then received my first real E’eren/ Clan Guardian from Her…..

=Ha! 🙂 I found it:


When I was 2 1/2 my mother and I went on a small child’s scooter down the steep street…

A rock…. and crash!!!!

Mother fell on top of me and I was unconscious for a loooong time.

I “dreamed” that there was a strange animal laying on my chest it smelled strange too, slim and small with a masked face and sharp little claws..
I got better … 3 months later I got diphtheria and was VERY close to death.
There was a VERY BEAUTIFUL young strange woman that came out of a glazing flimmering light! She wore white leather and red ribbons around the sleeves of that dress. She had loooong black braids and on a leash beside her feet there were 7 of those critters!!!!
She said: I can not take you back right now, I already have 7! You are FROM me but these are not for you!

In a …?? time I will send you your own animal from your Clan and HE !! will protect you!
She dissolved into the flirring light and I woke up and told my mother that I had seen an Angel with black braids and 7 …????!!!!! and what she had said!

My mom was overjoyed, that I was all better and recovering now. Being Gypsy and so not too unfamiliar with things, to her Animal Guardians like this were well known, although she had hoped, I would not “wake up to the Blood” sooo soon and so did not follow up on the matter.

But my father took me Very serious and made me repeat and later draw the things I saw, He and I loooooked through Animal books and we found ….
Black footed Ferrets = Frettchen my mother noted as being important Guardians for Gypsy people!


one afternoon about a year later all of a sudden – there was the flirring light again and the Lady appeared for less then a split second and then a LAAAArge slim, scrawny and what today I would describe as mangy looking Wolf jumped into / above me. —- Suspended in mid air he was, as the vision made my body shake (peed my …) and I got a VERY hot feeling up my spine and was shaking like a leave on a tree. I smelled him, his fur kind odd wet – ( nooo not like my pants!!)
and … then he was inside me…… and is there as my Guardian ever since!

As I learned from my father, Wolf is our Siberian Clan Animal.

My father is / was Siberian T. (tribal name omitted for privacy reasons) Wolf Clan and found it very auspicious, that our Clan Guardian appeared to me like this. Our Clan is patrilineal and to him it meant, that I was“special” and that “Eeren Börü, the Wolf-Guardian has taken a personal interest in me, more so than is normally expected. He slaughtered a Sheep from our flock, painted the blood on my forehead and hands and we had a feast with Mutton stew.

I was quite a bit scarrrred about the Biiiiig Wolf inside me at first, but it turned out a Powerful protector. The best friend of my every day ego,,

My “tonal” guide, the one who keeps my body and my Self save and intact when I am in trance. The one that saved me in a Christian orphanage when I was beaten,tortured and later exorcised, because I did refuse communion’s…. (another looong sad story…..)

picture from google

For the benefit of my students I often call him Ari’

but that is only “close” to his name….

Flight of Fancy

Reading through the accompanying book of the Mary El Tarot I am again and again confronted with the Kabbalah wisdom, the Tree of Life and its application to the Mayor Arcana of the Tarot.

So much so, in fact, that it tempted me to go beyond the humorous teachings of Lon Milo Duquette’s “Chicken Qabalah” and look deeper.

But with spring here, the craft show season starting soon, all my clients and me teaching Native Studies in schools, I felt, I should consult my Medicine Animals, if that was a worthwhile use of my limited time.

Shamanic journey.

It is full Moon and quite mild for April in Ontario.

I dress warm anyway, put my Reindeer fur onto a blanket on the deck and start drumming.

Right away I am in the Journey cave. The fire is on, but besides me there is nobody there. (that is usually the case, when the journey is about a personal interest and not a client or community issue….)

So I go to the News rock. To check for information. There is a Huuuuuuge hole in it! And I can see blue sky! I stick my head in the hole and see a simple landscape. Short green lawn with Clover flowers and a few Dandelions and clear blue Sky.

Oh, look there! There is Fretty! (he is a rather monochromatic cartoonish looking Siberian Ferret….)

OK there is Fretty!

He is perched atop a purplish pink balloon that is floating through the air trailing a long bow with a sign on it: “Happy…..”

? happy what? Oh! “Happy Hour”.

Fretty does not look happy.

And just as his balloon is about to disappear from my field of view the inevitable happens: He digs his long scratchy claws into the rubber and ”POP” balloon gone!

Unceremoniously Fretty falls to the ground muttering something entirely unfit for repetition.

Somehow he always makes me laugh and that ends the vision.

But over the years I have learned, that this is the intention and that the funny antic contains the information I need.

Here what comes to my analytical tonal mind is “flight of fancy” and whatever you need to make you happy.

So, it is quite OK for me to stick my head into these teachings and broaden my horizon = fly high on a strange balloon, see how another culture tried to explain the mysteries of life and death (and soul flight) as long as I know how and when to come back down to Earth and back to the solid ground of ancestral wisdom.

Picture language:

The Journey Cave has its entrance located in a large rock on our property and otherwise is our headquarter for me and the gang = my group of Medicine Animals and Helper Spirits in the Otherworld

The Fire: If the fire is on, I will find help, information there, if the fire is not on I can either make fire myself or I have to go to another meeting place ……

Newspaper rock:This is a huge gray granite rock wall where all kinds of petroglyphic symbols and drawings appear that give insights to all kinda of questions. I also can leave notes for Spirits and receive notes. The wall looks different every time I look at it. Sometimes it is all Crystal, or Obsidian or a wooden board with a construction plan on it… I never know…..

Fretty is a rather monochromatic cartoonish looking Siberian Ferret that is one of my Guides since age 2 1/2 and I should probably write about how I got him…. or better- how he was put in charge of me….until my Clan guardian from Ada’s = my father’s Clan appeared…..)

Green grass is personal growth – the fact that is short indicates, that I will probably not do this for very long.

Clover is good luck

Dandelions are a “Study flower” to me. When I was at university and also studying with my Inde’ teacher I had the first vision of a huuuuuuuge Dandelion breaking through the pavement right between the buildings of the Maternity clinic and the Psychiatric hospital of the university complex…..

That, my teacher said was me.

Am I reallllly a noxious weed that nobody can keep down or am I the nutritious plant, full of vitamins, that since beginning of humanity was used for food, medicine and healing?

It is this picture language that you learn when you write down your dreams and analyze them and “take notes”

You can not use a book, because the meanings depend on a mixture of your “first knowledge” and your aquiered knowledge as well as symbols that you successfully recognized before as relevant for you.

These will appear again and again….

Your internal picture language !

Peacock coincidences


Lately Peacocks are showing up in my daily life quite frequently. My life encounter with a whole flock of them in my last post was just the latest in a string on coincidences.

  • Since writing about the 4 of cups in the Greenwood Tarot I keep noticing their appearance in other tarot and Oracle decks.
  • Here is, what I wrote in the Greenwood  study forum about Peacocks:
  • Peacock:
    The worship of the Peacock has been reported as a survival of Tammuz worship. In Greece the Peacock was sacred to Hera and kept in her temple. They may neither be caught nor annoyed. It is sacred among the Jats and Khonds of India and in the Punjab its feathers, smoked, will heal snakebite. Elsewhere, waved over the sick, the feathers will cure disease. However the Muslims of Java report that the Peacock was a Guardian at the gate of paradise. then he ate the Devil, and so got that one into the gate.
    The Kama Sutra recommends that if the bone of a Peacock be covered with gold and tied on the right hand, it will make a man “lovely” in the eyes of his lady.
    In European lore the feathers are unlucky and the cry of the Peacock is a bad omen. Then, from the medieval times on the Peacock was the symbol of the soul and Masks made from the feathers were popular in the middle ages. The serving of Peacocks as a delicacy was reserved to the royal court and the birds were kept in the castle garden. About Peacock meat however it is known, that it is quite tough but people always have assumed that anything that looks beautiful must taste good.
  • Link to the whole thread:
  • A few weeks ago I discovered a beautiful beaded purse in the Value village store. A Peacock on each side. Should I get that? Why not – indulge myself….. 🙂
  • At the same time however my husband Peter was visiting his brother in Macedonia. They both went on a trip to see the country and stopped at the Greek-Orthodox church of St. Naun , that is famous for the Peacocks that freely roam its grounds. Peter was much more interested in the beautiful birds than the church, made numerous pictures and collected a few Peacock feathers for me. 🙂
  • This led Peter’s brother to suggest a visit to an old Episcopalian basilica in Stobi because it is known for its magnificent Roman mosaics that also feature of a Peacock, which for the locals there was and still is was of great significance

  • When Peter returned home I was quite taken with all the lovely pictures – especially those of Peacocks. Needles to say,the Peacock feathers are on our family Altar right now.
  • Now I just wonder, how much more “peacocky” it will get……

Well, comments are long since closed – I have no idea why, but I thought I post here the beautiful Peacock pin my husband Peter created:


Strange encounter on the road

WHAT are YOU guys doing HERE???

Yesterday early evening I was on my way into town for our weekly drum circle.

We live quite a ways out in “the bush” on a narrow winding country road.

It is Bear and Moose and Wolf country out here.

It was a few years back, that we began to see wild Turkeys by the road again. They were reintroduced by the MNR = Ministry of Natural Resources as a species that used to be indigenous to Southern Ontario. Now however, with us having warmer climates with milder winters they- and many other species of Wildlife moved north and in recent years we have seen a proliferation of Wild Turkeys, but also rather exotic migrants like Opossums – not to speak about all the new arrivals in the Snake and Insect department….

So here I was, tufffffing down the windy road, hopping in and our of potholes when just over the next bump in the road I see a large Bird standing in the middle of the “pavement” and 2 more appeared out of the bush.

Wild Turkeys” I thought .

Well, strange thing, they have on their head – strange plumage too: Blue white and gray….

One more dip in the road and I would be right upon them.

Turkeys usually run- or fly of and one has to be careful, that they do not fly into the windshield.

Wuump – over the next bump I come and RIGHT before me the road is blocked. 2 Huuuuuuge Birds, caleidoscopic colored tail feathers spread wide, are blocking the road of, side to side. And not only that, they shake these wide rusteling colorful feather wheels at me as if to scare the car away.

Well, the car is not scarred , but me!?????????

I have hit the break and come to a full stop.

Car-wise and mind-wise too.

These are NO Turkeys!!!!!!!!

These are Peakocks!!!!!!!!!

WHAT are they doing here???????

This is Ontario! – Or did I miss a turn somewhere??

They are not budging either and now I recognize the 3 other Birds I first saw from a distance as Peahens, with the little crown of feathers on their heads. They are of to the side in the bushes.

I wish I had a camera. Nobody will believe that.

I honk the horn. The first Bird folds his feathers and struts of, the other one follows.

Where are they going?


Oh yes, what is the Fox thinking about this?

I will probably see him tomorrow, when he comes to see me for a consultation to find out ifff he has hallucinations….. 😉

The Fox and me

need therapy:

There’s something really strange we see:

It’s colorful and big and and loud

and shakes his bum feathers around.

We both wonder, can we cope?

Do we need pills, did we eat dope?

Should we ignore it’s strutting gate ?

– or but it on our dinner plate?

Meditating in Red and Black

Mary El and Meditation.

So here I sit, in the afternoon sun, the MaryEl deck in its beautiful red and black box on a small table close to me, my tea cup, now empty.

Time for some I ammeditations:

…..deeeeeep breath….

I am the Sun.

I an the Wind.

I am Spring Peeper.

I am I am “Chippe”, the Chipmunk.

(I am her for a looooong time.)

I am Redwinged Blackbird.



I know, that, when he calls, he spreads one of his wings to display his red and yellow wing bars, trying to attract a mate….

I know he does that about 5 times a minute in regular intervals.

Great to adjust my breathing to his calls:

he calls- I breath in….

.and out slowly

he calls – I breath

This goes on for a few minutes.

I sense, he changed locations, from the large Birck over to the Maple right next to the house

he calls – I breath

He is even closer now! On the railing of the deck?

He calls – I breath


I slowly open my eyes


He is RIGHT next to me, sitting on the rim of my tea mug!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He calls, displaying his right wing – to the red and black box below him. His “rival” which even has small yellow dots in the center ….

He calls – I do no dare to breath!!!

but I HAVE to

!!! meditation STRESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He calls again spreading his wing –I breath, my chest moves.

 BRRRRRrrrrrrrr ………..









……he is gone…..

I breath……!



Meditation is one of my spiritual practices.

Just “sit” quietly.

Quiet the mind.

Shut down the thinking.

Just for a little while.

It feels soooooo gooood.


Then there is another form- kind of meditation I like – and often do:

I just call it “I am”

I sit outside on the upper deck, close my eyes.

It is never completely quiet.

There are all the sounds of Nature, especially in spring.

Whatever I hear, I am.

I am the Wind: I feel the wind fully and envision me being part of it, being it.

Until something else grabs my mind, forever hungry for distraction.

Ian Chickadee.

I am Blue Jay.

I am Canada Goose splashing in the water below the house.

I am Mäuse, sitting on my knee.

Mäuse, our Squirrel is annoying that way.

I an the Sun warming my body.

That one is one of my favorites.

I am the telephone !?

That one is the worst

Hopefully Peter gets it –

– or I am answering the call – maybe….

I usually “know” who is on the other line

and voice mail is my ally.