Sharing your energy to give someone Reiki is just as enjoyable as receiving it. Maybe, maybe, even a bit more.
My table is set up in my room. I have yet to name my room. It is my yoga room. My meditation spot. My space to read tarot. My haven to give Reiki. The view is to the east and it is so energizing. So energizing that big energy shifts occur in my room. For me and others.
I have my ritual of setting up my table as well as taking it down when not in use. Many of you know, I use sage and incense probably more than deodorant. Well, maybe you didn't know exactly how much. But I know you know how good and earthy it can smell in my house. It gives me peace.
Next on my list is a furniture adjustment. That will create the flow I know exists but at the moment has to find the alternative route.
My angels are with me. They reassure me.
What goes around comes around. This time when you repeat that phrase, embrace the power of the positive effect rather than using it when someone does something to hurt you.
Send it out. Send it strong. Send it sincere. Send it with love.
And all will be yours.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Saturday, January 26, 2013
1:11
When I pulled out of Maverick's parking lot this evening, or this morning, it was 1:11am. I thought, "Oh Noelle, pay attention to those numbers!" Something is amiss.
It was a first, I believe, for me to leave at such an hour. My feet are actually sore and feeling well spent.
The drive home was mine. Only 3 other cars on the road between the tired dance floor and the return to my animals. The sky was radiant with moonshine and the clouds were remnants of a recent rain shower. In between the billowy sky characters, the stars and planets were peeking out. To really make the moment clutch, I was listening to a little Cheryl Lynn, Got to Be Real, on my 70s on 7, courtesy of Sirius XM.
After getting inside and being greeted by the dogs who have no sense of time, something told me to step onto the deck and just listen. Maybe Scout, my reliable Great Horned Owl, would be around. Now, the clouds were really thinning out, much like a celestial archipelago. The air refreshed by the light rainfall. The earth had softened under the sunny agreeable days of late, and it is such a rich, fertile smell, one of sprouting life not far off.
And then, hmmmmm? What is that most unusual sound? It sounds like it's coming from the goat pen. With my super sized mag light I looked out and I could the reflector patch on Alibi's rain sheet, in the goat pen. I just had that feeling that my evening was not going to be considered complete without additional horse and goat love.
So, at 1:30am with a change of clothes and rubber boots to navigate the mud, I head out to assess the tomfoolery of my hoofed ones. They really did it! I cannot begin to imagine how or who but the panel attached to the tin sided goat shed was pulled away, straps broken, and completely perpendicular to the perimeter fence. When things are secure, the panels meet at a V and create a haven for my goodles. It was the most preposterous arrangement. And so, enter the horses, or shall I say King Alibi, to shoo away the cashmered ones in order to eat their hay.
On my way out to the dry lot, I passed my little sleepy goodles giving me a drowsy "ma'aaaa" from inside the horse shelter. The big bad boys had chased the little bad boys from their pen and they were telling me of the injustice.
Fortunately, that 1:11 was telling me I've got time but don't dawdle. From the amount of the remaining hay in the feed bag, it could be reasoned that their seizure of the otherwise cordoned goat domain was recent. Whew! A greedy consumption of herbage by one dominant equine averted.
Thinking about the clock, I took advantage of being out there and spread some green love for my Arab princes. I am hopeful I can take advantage of a little extra shut-eye on a weekend morning as well.
Cock-a-doodle-doo!
It was a first, I believe, for me to leave at such an hour. My feet are actually sore and feeling well spent.
The drive home was mine. Only 3 other cars on the road between the tired dance floor and the return to my animals. The sky was radiant with moonshine and the clouds were remnants of a recent rain shower. In between the billowy sky characters, the stars and planets were peeking out. To really make the moment clutch, I was listening to a little Cheryl Lynn, Got to Be Real, on my 70s on 7, courtesy of Sirius XM.
After getting inside and being greeted by the dogs who have no sense of time, something told me to step onto the deck and just listen. Maybe Scout, my reliable Great Horned Owl, would be around. Now, the clouds were really thinning out, much like a celestial archipelago. The air refreshed by the light rainfall. The earth had softened under the sunny agreeable days of late, and it is such a rich, fertile smell, one of sprouting life not far off.
And then, hmmmmm? What is that most unusual sound? It sounds like it's coming from the goat pen. With my super sized mag light I looked out and I could the reflector patch on Alibi's rain sheet, in the goat pen. I just had that feeling that my evening was not going to be considered complete without additional horse and goat love.
So, at 1:30am with a change of clothes and rubber boots to navigate the mud, I head out to assess the tomfoolery of my hoofed ones. They really did it! I cannot begin to imagine how or who but the panel attached to the tin sided goat shed was pulled away, straps broken, and completely perpendicular to the perimeter fence. When things are secure, the panels meet at a V and create a haven for my goodles. It was the most preposterous arrangement. And so, enter the horses, or shall I say King Alibi, to shoo away the cashmered ones in order to eat their hay.
On my way out to the dry lot, I passed my little sleepy goodles giving me a drowsy "ma'aaaa" from inside the horse shelter. The big bad boys had chased the little bad boys from their pen and they were telling me of the injustice.
Fortunately, that 1:11 was telling me I've got time but don't dawdle. From the amount of the remaining hay in the feed bag, it could be reasoned that their seizure of the otherwise cordoned goat domain was recent. Whew! A greedy consumption of herbage by one dominant equine averted.
Thinking about the clock, I took advantage of being out there and spread some green love for my Arab princes. I am hopeful I can take advantage of a little extra shut-eye on a weekend morning as well.
Cock-a-doodle-doo!
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
A Wednesday Read
"Be content with what you have,
rejoice in the way things are.
When you realize there is nothing lacking,
the whole world belongs to you."
~~~Lao Tzu
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Silly Hen
It's a bit after 11pm and the poodles and I just got back in from a late evening feed and then a 15 minute forensic search for one of my hens.
I went down late to lock them in and only counted 11. One of my black and white Barred Rock hens, either Alice or Baby, was missing. It's never a good feeling.
My headlamp wasn't strong enough to do a thorough search on a winter's night of the new moon. The stars are magnificent but still not enough wattage for a hen search. So, back to the house to get my mag light and back down to continue looking.
Oh, the temperature is about 9 degrees. I wasn't so cold but I was concerned that if I couldn't find her that my hen was in a safe place where she alone could keep herself warm. They have quite a suit of downy feathers these days, but at night they nuggle together on their roosting bar. I'm not sure if it's for warmth or safety.
Going through my list of previous experiences with missing hens, I felt optimistic that she had not been snatched by a predator but for some reason did not return the hen house when everyone else did. This is when I wish my dogs were trained to flush out a bird. There is a lot of sage bush around and plenty of trees where she could hide.
After coming around for the second time, I started to look up. Maybe instead of digging in to the dirt as they do during the day, she went up to roost. Whew! Big sigh. There she was perched on a branch of their favorite Juniper tree. It's so big and full with very low hanging branches and plenty of loose dirt around the bottom that there is where they spend a lot of their time.
Thankfully I could push through the branches enough to pick up my hen and bring her back home. Red the rooster had much to say about her clucklings; perhaps a welcoming back home, perhaps a disciplinary comment. It was a satisfying feeling to close up that door knowing all 12 of my chickens are safe and sound and settling down for a long winter's nap.
I went down late to lock them in and only counted 11. One of my black and white Barred Rock hens, either Alice or Baby, was missing. It's never a good feeling.
My headlamp wasn't strong enough to do a thorough search on a winter's night of the new moon. The stars are magnificent but still not enough wattage for a hen search. So, back to the house to get my mag light and back down to continue looking.
Oh, the temperature is about 9 degrees. I wasn't so cold but I was concerned that if I couldn't find her that my hen was in a safe place where she alone could keep herself warm. They have quite a suit of downy feathers these days, but at night they nuggle together on their roosting bar. I'm not sure if it's for warmth or safety.
Going through my list of previous experiences with missing hens, I felt optimistic that she had not been snatched by a predator but for some reason did not return the hen house when everyone else did. This is when I wish my dogs were trained to flush out a bird. There is a lot of sage bush around and plenty of trees where she could hide.
After coming around for the second time, I started to look up. Maybe instead of digging in to the dirt as they do during the day, she went up to roost. Whew! Big sigh. There she was perched on a branch of their favorite Juniper tree. It's so big and full with very low hanging branches and plenty of loose dirt around the bottom that there is where they spend a lot of their time.
Thankfully I could push through the branches enough to pick up my hen and bring her back home. Red the rooster had much to say about her clucklings; perhaps a welcoming back home, perhaps a disciplinary comment. It was a satisfying feeling to close up that door knowing all 12 of my chickens are safe and sound and settling down for a long winter's nap.
Thursday, December 27, 2012
A Fire Sign
The sign posts all around me have been pointing to infinite potential, endless possibilities, getting acquainted with the heart mind.
Having come through the other side of a major life transition, my eyes are open and my ears are perked. Where does my path want to lead me? What does that next stone under my well-danced feet feel like? I am wildly curious and tickled pink.
Lately, I have taken note of just how much I gaze up into the sky. It is fascinating. It is inspiring. It is magical and mystical. I used to dream of rainbows and shooting stars. My dreams have come true.
The Full Cold Moon energy of this month has my body tingling. I wake up in the wee hours and go look outside. With the snow and the moonlight, everything is glowing, the hour uncertain. Last night the sky cleared. This morning at sunrise, I walked to the west door and greeted the day with a sleepy grin.
Invigorated by the crisp winter air, I spent a good part of the day outdoors. Alibi and I took a walk to the mailbox at the end of the road to pick up a package I have been expecting. It was just us on the road. My boots crunching in the cold snow and his hooves steadily keeping pace. Our hearts are in rhythm.
When I finally came in, the moon was just rising in the east. I completely relish being able to see both the east and the west from my windows. As the December moon rose up over the pasture in front, I put my tarot cards and their pretty purple brocade box on the sill to be cleansed by the full moon energy.
The poodles and I needed to get to the feed store before it closed. I am breaking down and buying a heater for the water trough. Although I revel in the increasing daylight hours, I cannot be fooled by the calendar. It tells me I may be breaking ice in the water for quite some time to come.
Before taking another step toward departing, I knew I had to look to the west. The Cascades always perform. The three Sisters were crystal clear, snow covered and basking in the setting sun.
As we were driving home from Big R, I stole a glance up toward the clear winter night sky and there it was! A shooting star. It was as if it came from behind my reliable winter transport, over my head, hooked on to my front grill and coaxed us forward chasing its fiery tail. It said, "this way."
Look. Look up. Look forward. Look inward. There lies your path.
Friday, December 14, 2012
If Not Now, When?
When will we make decisions for the better of the greater good? When will we step back from our stubborn and fantastic belief in our notion of freedom and realize how we are being held hostage by our own self-centered demands.
Are we so caught up in ourselves that we cannot sacrifice when the risk to the greater good is at stake?
I do not refer just to guns. I ask about healthcare, about care for returning military with PTS, about assessing our well-being through social programs, prayer, meditation, schools, work, church, the grocery store. I ask about opening our eyes and slowing down long enough to notice.
We must be the advocates of those struggling. We must take care of our children and preserve their innocence, curiosity and their dreams.
Our job on this earth is not working alone. Despite our own troubles, our job is to reach out, to act, think and speak on behalf of the greater good. When we all show up for work, no one will be left for dead.
Are we so caught up in ourselves that we cannot sacrifice when the risk to the greater good is at stake?
I do not refer just to guns. I ask about healthcare, about care for returning military with PTS, about assessing our well-being through social programs, prayer, meditation, schools, work, church, the grocery store. I ask about opening our eyes and slowing down long enough to notice.
We must be the advocates of those struggling. We must take care of our children and preserve their innocence, curiosity and their dreams.
Our job on this earth is not working alone. Despite our own troubles, our job is to reach out, to act, think and speak on behalf of the greater good. When we all show up for work, no one will be left for dead.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Saturday Bliss
Last month's question of "For what are you grateful?" is still on the front burner. As there are generally two front burners, this month's question, "What brings you joy?" is right beside it.
It's a classic December Saturday: a little late sleep in,
sunshine and occasional clouds, brisk air, possibility of some snow but not looking like it, nothing on the must-do agenda, spending lots of time outdoors with the animals, a friendly visit from April, anticipating the arrival of Jacqueline next week and then Laurie and Lucas the following, and just doing what strikes my fancy.
Joy to the World.
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