It can be easy to get lost in the chaos of the world.
Sitting at my art table this morning excited to work on my next project piece, this darling chickadee sat for the longest time on the suet feeder, while my laundry on the line blew in the breeze.
It moved me to tears. The sweetness of life, I thought. This is what brings such joy to my heart.
Yesterday I’d gone down the rabbit hole with all that continues to swirl in the world – so much that does not make sense to me. My heart hurt for all the suffering.
Later in the day, I’d recalled what a teacher who hosts a monthly group I’m taking part in said, “The mind can’t take it, but the heart can.” I wrote that out and taped it to the mirror on my vanity.
Though at times it feels like my heart can’t take it, it really is the mind that goes into fear, when the heart knows what to do.
The sweet chickadee reminded me that I can choose contentment at any moment, which after looking it up, is exactly what they symbolize — that, and happiness. A tiny bird that reminds us of the joy in simple pleasures.
I also read that Chickadee is a homebody bird. Well, if that didn’t literally hit home in my heart, as I am a homebody too. This soft place that I perch and take refuge in when the world around me is confusing…and how grateful I am for my physical home, but also my inner home that I’ve worked hard to stay in alignment with what is true for me.
Thank you, dear Chickadee, for your presence and the reflection that turns out to be the best present I could have asked for today.
If we are in touch with Mother Nature, we begin to see signs and feel a shift toward autumn long before the calendar dubs it so, which is September 22nd this year.
This has definitely been the case for me noticing some changes I’m seeing on my morning daily walks. The photo above is from my backyard. This shrub sprouts white blossoms in the spring, then over the summer develops green berries, which then began to ripen as fall approaches.
I also sense it in my energy levels as the mornings are cooler now and we reach peak heat a little later each day. It’s a time also when my creativity levels are at their highest — such has been the case with different areas of my life of late.
Just this morning I was listening to Colette O’Neill of Bealtaine Cottage. She lives in west Ireland. Her YouTube channel is one I discovered a few weeks ago and I simply can’t get enough of it! She is a spunky sixty-five-year-old woman who over seventeen years ago bought three acres of barren land and a cottage because she’d felt this strong nudge to return to Ireland. With her own hands and a budget of almost zero, she began planting trees and over the years has planted over eleven hundred of them on her property!
Her videos are of her walking her land with her faithful border collie, Jack, in front of her on the many paths that weave through her property. As she walks and shares her enchanting land with viewers she talks about permaculture, Mother Earth, life, and an occasional rant about something she has strong opinions about.
In the particular video I was listening to today (she’s been doing them for nine years, so there’s a plethora of them!) she was talking about a yearly celebration in Ireland called Lughnasadh. It begins on August 1st a time when summer is beginning to wane, and the harvest season begins. It is based on the Pagan Wheel of the Year and on the sun’s cycle, and named after an ancient Celtic Irish god named Lugh.
What really perked my ears was when Colette shared how upset she gets with the man-made calendar of dubbing later in the season as the beginning of fall (September 22nd as is the case for 2021), when really, Mother Nature does not work that way.
This resonated throughout my entire being! I’ve realized how over the years I’ve felt these shifts of seasonal change much earlier than the calendar says it as so, thus putting off just being with the delicious sensations and feelings that fall brings for me — thinking I have to “wait” until the calendar says so.
Does this not speak to dulling our intuition also? When we are in connection with nature, this is what is the perfect guide for our intuition and feeling into what is occurring around us, instead of relying on a calendar — that and what our eyes actually see as Mother Nature slowly begins to reveal herself in the subtle changes all around us. Not only in the flowers, trees, and shrubs, along with the light changing but also in how the habits of the animals change too.
I’ve noticed with the birds that they don’t frequent my feeders as much lately. There is so much more in terms of insects, berries, and other things for them to enjoy right now. Despite my having just used my birthday money from my mom to purchase this new feeding station! But I know that in time they will return again as we move closer to winter.
Speaking of the habits of animals changing during different seasons, a frequent visitor this time of the year to the feeding station seems to only be the sassy squirrel! But hey, he has to eat too as I’m sure all the goodies he stored last season are waning in quantity too.
Lastly, it is quieter this time of year. I’ve especially noted that since the wrens have raised their families and have now flown the coop. I shall really look forward to when they return again next year! While the wrens are gone, the bees and butterflies are in abundance, and hummingbirds are dancing and feeding with much more frequency at the feeders. I’m also hearing the honks of Sandhill Cranes and Geese more often now too.
As I finish writing this post, and the door is open on Joyful Pause Cottage, you could hear a pin drop as it is that quiet.
And I’m feeling grateful to have learned of the Wheel of the Year as Colette shared in the video I listened to and the celebration of Lughnasadh. It really feels so much more in alignment with my own soul, so it is one I shall continue to follow.
Perhaps it will speak to you too? If so, welcome aboard Mother Nature’s calendar…
As the teacher began the art class I took part in last Wednesday, she was holding a red ball of thread. She shared a few stories of its symbolism within different cultures. The one that stood out to me is the Chinese Proverb that says: “An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but will never break.”
Though we were gathered virtually via Zoom, the teacher looped one end of the thread over her computer, holding the remaining thread in her hand, as a way of connecting all the women together on the call.
A few days later and now Friday morning I noticed a sparrow drinking from the birdbath outside my bedroom patio door. I grabbed my phone and took a picture of it. As I did, the thought was running through my mind of how the sparrow isn’t often photographed as we opt to capture those that we deem as more beautiful.
Little did I realize at the time that there were threads of symbolism that were weaving throughout my week leading up to my 58th birthday on Sunday, July 18th.
My wish for my birthday was to go to an arts festival in a nearby city and then lunch at a place called The Wharf along the Manitowoc River.
Walking among the many artists at the festival, admiring the variety of talents each had, inspiration was filling me from head to toe! As I usually do, I will visit all vendors first and then make my way back to those I wish to purchase something from. But Naomi’s booth and her art would be different.
It was as if a force unbeknownst to me drew me right in and to a piece of her artwork that spoke to me. I felt quite emotional looking at it, though I wasn’t sure why. The sparrow did remind me of the photo I’d taken just the day before. The other animal, at first glance, I thought was a mouse. But I’d soon learn it was a weasel. I found it both endearing and intriguing that the weasel was wearing a red sweater. A whirl of many different feelings was coursing through me, but yet, I still didn’t know what it was all about. I also felt like I wasn’t even standing on planet Earth, but had been transported to another place in time.
I knew I wanted this artwork and hoped Naomi had a print of it available as the original artwork wasn’t within my budget. I turned to Naomi sitting in the corner, smiling, and asked if she had a print of The Red Wool Sweater. She jumped to her feet and said that she did.
Standing side-by-side, we flipped through the various prints in the bin until I said, “Here it is! I found it!”
Naomi made her way back to her chair while I held the precious print in my hands. I was now curious about the story behind it so I asked Naomi about it. On a side note, I’m not always wanting to know the story behind a piece of art, but I felt compelled to know about this one.
As Naomi shared the story with me tears began to fill my eyes and my right hand came to rest on my heart. She had tears well up in her eyes also. Afterward, as John and I continued walking through the festival grounds, the print worked its magic on me and began to reveal layers of reflection and why I had felt called to it.
But first, let me relay what Naomi shared with me and the story behind this art piece:
The Red Wool Sweater was one of the first pieces she did after the death of her mother who had Dementia. She shared that like all mother-daughter relationships, she and her mom had major ups and downs.
Her mom wasn’t a motherly person but was invested in the nature of her kids and their gifts. Because of this, that meant much exposure to amazing artwork and endless supplies of art material.
Her mom was a writer and avid reader. She was also a knitter and Naomi said, “she knit sweaters at the speed of sound. She could knit and read at the same time!”
Her mom had knit a red wool sweater for herself and wore it year-round. The weasel in the art piece, Naomi shared, is in a red wool sweater with human attributes — holding a nest of eggs symbolizing home/family/heart. The viewer of the piece may wonder whether or not the weasel plans to eat the eggs, or perhaps there is something in its stance that reveals its intention to protect.
The sparrow is there observing the interaction of the weasel and the nest. The sparrow carries powerful symbolism. Biblically, the sparrow reveals our own extensive value because sparrows are considered of little worth, yet God is aware of every one of them. In folklore, the sparrow symbolizes integrity, self-empowerment, peace, and wisdom.
At a memorial for her mother after her passing, Naomi said that as person after person came up to talk about her mom, each wore a sweater her mother had knit for them. They also read a personalized poem written by her mother that was given to them along with the sweater they were gifted.
Naomi described her mom as a formidable woman, and the weasel was her spirit animal, who her mother had met and embraced during a drumming ceremony.
While Naomi and her mother may have had a rocky relationship at times, she said, “this piece offers me insight and helps me hold on to the goodness that was within my mother.”
I was honored to hear the story as I sensed more layers of why I felt called to the print begin to surface.
My mind was filled with so much reflection as we visited more artists. I also knew I had to return to Naomi’s booth and get a photo of us together with the print.
So as for me, what did this print personally symbolize and why did I feel so drawn to it?
Let me begin with saying once again, as I’ve shared in previous blog posts and in my books, the world is continually offering us teachings and reflections through symbols — through nature, animals, people, and the world around us. Oftentimes we find clarity when we look back and connect the pieces and symbols —rather like weaving the threads together.
I was beginning to see how the week leading up to my birthday was presenting me with mirrors of symbology and the many thoughts that had been swimming in my interior world.
The older I get, the more I feel like a sparrow, and that of not being seen as I used to be – and yes in being honest, feeling invisible at times. While for the most part, I am perfectly fine with this, at times I also grieve for what was. The older I get, the more I learn to welcome this in, feel it, move through it, integrate it, and release it. Seeing the sparrow on the birdbath and noting how it often goes unnoticed was a reflection of still wanting to be seen in some ways, but also accepting that this new phase in my life holds so much value and offers other perks and benefits.
I also find myself more and more drawn to the wisdom of those older than me — elders — and how I hope to be a wise example and an elder for others also as I move through my remaining years.
The sparrow on the print, feet wrapped around the thread that leads to the basket of eggs resting in the nest, with the motherly weasel looking on serves as two different insights for me. First, the fact I’ll never have children in this lifetime. While I’ve worked through most of that and healed that wound, it can still come to the surface at times as I think about my elderly years ahead and not having my own children to talk with and share my wisdom.
My relationship with my mom, unlike some mother-daughter ones, hasn’t been one with any major issues. She has always been supportive and held unconditional love for me. The one I’ve always been able to turn to for comfort, guidance, and a shoulder to cry on when needed.
As I grow older, so does she. While she is in good health, I worry at times when she doesn’t feel well. This can then sometimes lead me down the rabbit hole of worry of “someday when she isn’t here.” As each year goes by and my times visiting with her, sitting on the stool at the counter in her kitchen, I can at times find myself mourning a future without her, and a future that I’ll never experience with a child of my own, like the one I have with her.
But that thread, like the one the sparrow holds onto in the print — that thread — will always be there. This I know.
Before I go onto the weasel and what it means for me, on the left side of the print, the leaves are colors of what I would classify as autumn colors. This, for me, links to how I’m now entering the autumn of my life.
So Ted Andrews says of weasel in his book Animal-Speak that weasel is good at squeezing through narrow spaces. This can help us to see how we too can find a way to get out of tight fixes and how we can squeeze through areas of our lives that perhaps others may not be able to.
Weasel is a creature that is silent, graceful and solitary. An animal that is often alone can speak to the fact that those with weasel as their totem animal can be loners, while Ted also says, “they can uncover a lot about people in their lives. Their ability for silence enables them to go unseen and unheard, even in the company of others. Because of this things are said and done in front of weasel people without others realizing it. Weasel can show you how to use your powers of silent observations to sniff out what is hidden or secretive without anyone being the wiser.”
Weasel also shares the wisdom with us to trust what we sense in regards to other people and trust that we will come out all right, even if it means being alone.
The weasel assures me that the foundation I’ve built the last twenty years of doing my inner work, eventually revealing a secret I kept hidden, and now trusting more and more my own intuition, will carry me through times of loss that will eventually come. Not only of the loss of those I hold so dear and have been by my side as I’ve walked this journey, but also for the loss of youth, what was, and the changes as my body ages.
When I think about weasels and the narrow spaces they can squeeze through I think of how often we can feel trapped in our feelings if we don’t own and express them. The only way out of this — and what can feel like tight places as we suppress it — is to feel it all — this is what it means to be human. When we feel it all, we open ourselves to another portal and deeper wisdom, and more peace.
Lastly, I see the weasel as protecting the eggs in the nest (even when weasel herself has crossed over into spirit), the sparrow looking on in love and appreciation for all the mother weasel has done for her, helping her shape her wings, and knowing that no matter what, she will always fly.
As I’ve simmered in all the meaning associated with this print for me personally, I can’t help but link it to how the week began in the art class and the teacher connected us via the red thread. The red wool sweater, of course, made of red yarn, connecting me to Naomi, her mother, the animal totems, and this print. Each served as a guide through these recent contemplations and reflections as I now move on to circling my 59th year around the sun.
