Your Animal Spirit for September 17th is the Eagle

Your Animal Spirit for Today
    September 17, 2013


Eagle soars high enough to see the grand panorama of life, and yet has vision keen enough to spot a fish a mile away. How’s your vision? Are you seeing the big picture or are you only concentrating on the fish? Eagle is asking you to take a step back so you can once again see the whole. You’ve gotten so lost in the trees you’ve forgotten the forest.

Calendar of the Sun for August 17

Calendar of the Sun

17 Weodmonath

Day of the Sacred Grove

Color: Green
Element: Earth
Altar: Upon a green cloth patterned with leaves, place many tree branches. In front of the altar should be one or more potted saplings to be planted.
Offerings: Plant trees, on your own or other property.
Daily Meal: Vegan

Invocation to the Trees

(Call and Response)

We call you Birch, first of the trees to stride into the field!
We call you Rowan, chaser of demons!
We call you Ash, avatar of the World Tree!
We call you Alder, tree of widely spreading fire!
We call you Hawthorn, May-tree of Beltane!
We call you Willow, tree of the moon on the river!
We call you Oak, lightning-magnet, tree of the Iron Wood!
We call you Holly, with leaves like spear-points!
We call you Hazel, with nuts that give inspiration!
We call you Grapevine, autumn’s harvest!
We call you Ivy, with your magical embrace!
We call you Reed, soldier of the wetlands!
We call you Elder, healing-tree of the grandmothers!
We call you Silver Fir, living green in the coldest snow!
We call you Aspen, tossing tree of the winds!
We call you Yew, tree that watches over the denizens of graveyards!
We call you Elm, first woman of the North!
We call you Whitethorn, guide on the path!
We call you Blackthorn, adversary who tests our mettle!
We call you Spindle-Tree, turning on the lathe!
We call you Guelder Rose, ripe with red fruit!
We call you Sycamore, beloved of Lady Death!
We call you Apple, fragrant blossoms of the Isle of Avalon,
And we ask for your blessing upon our lives.

(Pots of blessed tea are carried out to the woods and orchards, and poured at the roots of the most honored trees. All should touch the branches for a blessing.)

[Pagan Book of Hours]

Daily OM for July 10 – The Unseen World

The Unseen World

What We Can’t See

by Madisyn Taylor


Exploring the unseen world can be well worth your while as there are many gifts awaiting you there.


Just because we can’t see something doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, although this is a common way in which people deny the existence of spirit guides, angels, and other unseen helpers in our lives. However, anyone who has encountered such beings can attest to the fact that they do, indeed, exist, just as our breath exists, keeping us alive, even though we can’t see it. The wind exists, too, but we only know this because we feel it on our skin and hear it moving the leaves on the trees. All around us and within us are things we can’t see, and yet we know they are just as real as the grass beneath our feet.

What we see and don’t see may just be a matter of perspective, like the ladybug who sees the leaf on which she sits, but not the tree the leaf grows on, or the person sitting beneath it. And the person beneath the tree may or may not see the ladybug, depending on where he focuses his attention. Still, all of these things, whether seen or not seen by the person or the ladybug, exist in reality. Some people are more gifted at accessing that which we cannot see, but given an open and willing heart, anyone can tune into the invisible realm and begin to find their way.

Human beings have always done this, and it is only recently that we have fallen into distrusting the existence of what we can’t see. If you have lost touch with the unseen world, all you have to do is resolve to open your heart to its existence, and it will make itself known. Closing your eyes in meditation and visualization, or engaging the unseen through the written word, are just two ways to welcome the invisible back into your life. Whatever you choose to do, cultivating a relationship with that which you can’t see is a time-honored human practice that can greatly enhance your life.

Elder’s Meditation of the Day June 6

“We need to save those Elders who cannot speak for themselves — the trees.”

–Haida Gwaii, Traditional Circle of Elders

The trees are the Elders of the Earth. Go to the forest or to the mountains and find a young tree. Then find and old tree. Spend time with each. Sit by the young tree and listen to your thoughts. Then move to an old tree and listen to your thoughts again. Just being in the presence of an old tree, you will feel more calm. Your thoughts will contain wisdom and your answers will be deeper. Why is this so? These old trees know more, have heard more and are the Elders of the Earth. We must ensure these trees live so we can learn from them.

My Creator, help me to protect the trees and listen to them.


May 11 – Daily Feast

May 11 – Daily Feast

Honeybees that relied on early flowers in the garden can now feast all across the meadows. Red clover, honey locust trees, and rose-colored Indian paintbrush abound in clusters to feed the bees and give peace to the eye. An evening chorus of field sparrows trills in the wheat field and a nesting killdeer demands privacy by doing her broken-wing act to sidetrack walkers. The whole meadow teems with activity until dusk – and then a silence pervades, only to be broken by the throaty voice of the tree toad. It is common knowledge among the Cherokee that every animal, except man, knows the main business of life is to enjoy it, and he, the Cherokee, sides with nature.

~ Seed time is here but your grounds have not been prepared for planting. Go back and plant the summer’s crop. ~

KEOKUK, 1832

‘A Cherokee Feast of Days’, by Joyce Sequichie Hifler


A Summer Walk to Dream

A Summer Walk to Dream

by Jim Sun Weed


I walk out into the sunny day, the morning breeze growing sweeter as the day’s heat develops. Over the soft grass, over the concrete sidewalk, striding in my sturdy boots and feeling like good Tom Bombadil, the Master. A small brown bird is on the ground, tugging at a food wrapper. She winks at me and hops out of the way.

Another bird swoops over my head. They say hello and bless me; their language is a visceral one which my body understands. The blackberries, ripe and heavy, and the golden grass gone to seed, vibrate their hellos.

The Earth is singing, and it’s a tune which calls me back time and again to the old ways, when Nature taught us everything, gave us everything.

Tall trees are swaying in the breeze, caressing my vision as the wind moves through their leaves, showing the white undersides contrasting with the dark green of summer growth. I pass beneath a great Himalayan Pine, touching the top of my head to its hanging boughs. These trees, these plants and animals, are all players in a rhythm which is of wholeness and rightness.

I am open and strong. I forget about work, bus schedules, career plans. I stop arguing with myself. I stop trying to define, and the answer is given as I too enter the sacred rhythm.

I visit the old pine trees on Capitol Hill. They were here before white people came to this part of the Earth. I can feel their thoughts telegraphing to one another, preserving the fabric of unity and protection. They are the good old citizens and I am grateful to be walking beneath them. Am I just like a human animal today? I have no creed, only rhythm, aliveness, gratitude and the sustaining oneness-interaction. Just as the trees and animals vibrate in their innate communication, I feel the blood of my body resonate with this vibration. A friendly Douglas Fir beckons me; I run my hand lightly over the rough bark of its trunk. I sit at its base, my head against the trunk, feeling as though we are the center, with the Wholeness choreographed around us. I close my eyes and feel the comings and goings of animals and insects, and the passing of time.

My thoughts melt into dreaming as I fall into a sleep. Nature is everywhere alive; the web of Spirit cannot be destroyed. Sometimes I am unaware of it. Often I don’t understand the significance of whatever work or play I’m doing. But that doesn’t matter. The only judge is me. As I enter more deeply into awareness of Nature around me, I become healed and whole. How have we ignored Nature for so long? What are we learning through our experience of separation?

In my sleep a dream washes over me. I am in a dank tavern, wood paneling, a couple of pool tables, just a few patrons talking about regular workaday things as the afternoon light slants in through the tiny window. I notice a tingling sensation in my feet and hands. Looking around the room I see it suffused with the same tingling: a light, a shimmering which seems to grow and envelop everything and everyone in the room. Is it coming from the spaces between atoms, from the freefall that lends grace to the gaps in our understanding? I wake.

The breeze plays in my hair. A squirrel is looking at me, head cocked to one side. An airplane flies overhead. The sun is still bright and the air sweet and warm; the afternoon feels as lazy as I do. I get up, dust off my jeans, and stride away to the tavern for a beer.