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Reading about the Costa Concordia tragedy this past week has brought to mind one of the delineating factors of the 2012 shift that we are approaching this year, the year of the Black Water Dragon according to the Chinese calendar. That another maritime disaster of import, that of the Titanic, occurred in a water (Water Rat) year 100 years ago is an interesting aside but not the focus of this post, rather a kind of symmetrical horror and example of the power of water. But back to 2012 where the shift that I see occurring is between the age of Patriarchy and the age of the Heart. As the audio tapes of the conversation between the two men mentioned in the title gets played and replayed what becomes apparent is that one stands for the old guard and the other the new.

My stepson shared with me the other day that he couldn't wait for all of this 2012 crap to be over, for people to stop framing everything in that mindset. I'm not sure what he meant because I got so triggered that I couldn't pursue the conversation further. We have a bit of a history on topics that appear "new agey" to him. In the ensuing days though, I've noticed that every time I encounter a class or opportunity that couches it's teachings with any reference to 2012 that my sceptic's radar goes off immediately. I've been guilty of it myself - the marketing of 2012, but truth be told, I love the feeling of something arriving with fanfare and preparation. It's why I love Advent as opposed to Christmas. I enjoy the "work" that goes into getting ready for something. I much prefer digging around in the dark to the glare of well-lit, professionally marketed anything. So what are we waiting for?

My daughter recently posted an article from Psychology Today about how dancing is a revolutionary act. She's a Dance Movement therapist so this struck me as appropriate. However, upon reading the article I recognized how my daily walks also make me feel like I'm connecting to myself in a way that might also be considered a revolution. I am not in my head, except for the daily conversations that I'm ruminating over, but which gradually subside as I walk. I am connecting with my dog and his natural instincts to chase squirrels, bark at other dogs, pull on the leash and otherwise ignore my wishes. I am breathing and climbing a hill which put me fully in my body. Apparently these are all radical acts since most of us believe we (our brains) are the masters of our daily experience and to think otherwise is radical.

Since my last posting my husband has found a job. It was the only response he received after sending out countless resumes and is in the fast food industry, which neither of us frequents with any regularity. You know what sold him though, in addition to the great paycheck and wonderful benefits, their mission statement - To Serve With Love. Now that's what I call paradigm shifting. When your local burger purveyor (granted there are salads, fish, bean burgers and so on too) holds up love in their statement of purpose that's something to take note of. I see these tiny glimpses of shift all around me though and I'm so excited.

With our financial health still in the balance we took an action a couple weeks ago that seemed completely illogical at the time and yet has since proven to be a positive choice. We took in a new companion dog at Labyrinth House, named Ripley. He was a second-chance dog from another shelter that was brought to the Oregon Humane Society from whence we brought him home. He's a love dog, a noodle of a cuddler, with no position too uncomfortable. We've molded our routine around his care and now notice ourselves brought together in the shared pursuits of training, feeding, walking and relaxing. This all served to turn our minds away from our struggles and now we've observed new opportunities arising and our work taking us forward again. It might be shifting astrology, or the fruits of positive thinking, or fate smiling on us.

Michael Meade’s blog "There is a second level of hope found, not by clinging to old dreams or by denying despair, but by surviving it. When life becomes darkest the eye of the soul begins to see. 'Hope springs eternal'"

So my husband has been laid off these last few weeks, and with the added insult of the refusal of his employer to pay for his last three weeks of work merely because they see themselves as above the common issues of a person's paycheck. Rather they are consumed with with the idea that their particular project, one of many in the portfolio of millionaires, has gone belly up. This has thrown us, workers who live from paycheck to paycheck into some sort of new darkness. I must say upfront that we have drawn on every ounce of our skill to stay above this dark chasm. We remind ourselves daily that we are blessed.

Every time I walk to the front gate I take our winding stone path past hundreds, maybe thousands of bees. They are loving the Monarda and Alliums, which alone are noteworthy. They are these staunch and firecracker-y energies that line my way to the front door. The Alliums are bristley, purple and proud although weak-stemmed, falling over as the sun pulls them this way and that. The Monarda is square-stemmed, sturdy but delicate as a kleenex once the blooms have enjoyed the sun for a short while. The weather in Oregon this past season has been perfect for them both. But back to the bees. I love the way I can cut flowers right out from among them and they only just puff away from the flowers and then settle back down, unperturbed by my presence. I'm tempted to look up what they "mean" in Animal-Speak my favorite resource for shamanic musings about animals of all kinds. But better to bring my own associations to bear perhaps.

Everytime I write one of these blog posts I first have to select the category of "healing" for it to appear on the correct page of my website. It often feels like some kind of joke because I'm in no position to offer something so grand. Rather I'm feeling small and obliged to sound anything but. Today I'm just going to call it like it is. I know the new moon in Cancer is upon us this coming Friday, magnified by an eclipse, and that emotions are being dredged up, as is truth. My truth today is that I am feeling angry and resentful, not to mention fearful, and probably ten other so-called negative emotions. It's just bubbling up in me. These aren't new feelings. They're old, old, old, and so undyingly persistant as to be laughable if they weren't so real feeling. I fight to not sink into them each time they circle round. I feel so righteously preturbed, and yet.....How many times can I ride this merry-go-round before I learn to let it be?

I just finished teaching a Chinese Face Reading class yesterday and one facial characteristic is still reverberating with me. It's those little vertical lines that arise from the upper lip, usually in older women. You can make them by puckering and purseing your lips if you want to see what I'm talking about, and what they indicate is that someone has nurtured others to the detriment of the self. This pretty much explains why mothers get them. But what it brings to mind today is an earlier blog post in which I was noticing how spontaneous helpfulness and giving to each other seemed to be on the rise, following the tsunami in Japan. Natural disasters tend to bring this urge out in people but I was feeling like it was generally on the rise and I liked that. So how does one do that without doing it too much? This has been a perennial question for me as someone who has those lines aplenty.

I've just had the most illuminating visit with a very connected and insightful Dr. who I was seeing for sciatic pain. I've tried many things to address this problem over the years and was both hopeful and discouraged as the appointment began. Now after one treatment, although the pain is not yet gone, I feel like something in me has been turned inside out, in a good way. Her prescription as I left was to check in often with my congruent self and make adjustments based on what I found that self needing, not what my mind thought I should do. Think about asking your body to inform while politely telling your mind to pipe down. If you're like me, someone whose mind is always on duty, it's almost inconceivable, but as I drove home trying to make sense of how I was going to do this I noticed that already I felt calmer and more in the basement than the attic, so to speak.