Author Archives: Fox Mountain Muse

Belly Button musings …. Old Stones

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I found an old stone today while cleaning a corner of my studio. I do a lot of beadwork, and most days drop everything from seed beads, semiprecious stones and jewelry findings onto the floor where they skitter in a thousand directions. It is difficult, if not daunting, to squeeze underneath my heavy oak desk to clean and retrieve long lost baubles. They tightly jam themselves between the wall and the baseboard, and underneath the lip of a large piece of vintage linoleum which covers the pine wood floors.

I was using a fine horsehair brush below the baseboard to tease out beads and pieces of jewelry findings when I noticed a long forgotten cabochon jammed in there…. I had to use a piece of wire to force it out, it appeared to have been stuck in there a long time. When I climbed out of the shadows beneath my work bench, I opened my hand to discover a gemstone I had purchased in 1987. I remembered it well….

I took over a PhD research study when the original researcher hurt his back and had to return home to China. I applied as a candidate to the professor who held the research grant and was accepted to complete the studies as a Research Associate. I was little prepared for the 3 years of intense field work that was going to be required.

Anyhoo… when I completed my last day of field work, I drove back to the University. On my way, I purchased a ring at the local country store. A ring that contained the stone I found today….. Hmmm. 31 years ago. Now THAT is a river of time that has flowed through my fingers…. As it turns out, the stone is a “composite”, an “assembled” stone. One that simulates a gemstone and is made of two or three layers of gemstone or glass. These are cemented or fused together so as to appear as a whole natural stone. I did not know that at the time I purchased it. The shopkeeper identified it as a “Black turquoise” at the time. Uh-huh….

Holding that little stone in my hand today, I realized that as a human, and a Woman, classical philosophy has turned me into a “composite”, an “assemblage”…. Although I look human, I am so enculturated in the ideas introduced by a couple of Greek guys, Plato and Aristotle. In the most SIMPLISTIC terms, both men cut the “Wholeness of Being” into a “composite”, an assemblage. A theoretical construct of Body + Mind + Soul. In short, both men surmise that we have a physical body, AND a soul/mind (a thinking Be-ing) which is complete in itself, and capable of living without the body.

Don’t you think there might be an error in this way of thinking? Slicing up into parts and defining lines where there are none?…. Their philosophic ideas have been driven deep into European and Western thought and cultures. These ideas have heavily influenced not only how we see ourselves and each other….but how we see EVERYTHING….. A tree? A forest? An ocean? A rock? A cup of tea… No wonder it is so hard to really “see” and “be” with Gaia and the nature. As a ”composite”, I lack integration and interconnection with myself, let alone everything else….

I want to rip these ideas out of my head, pulling them out through my hair roots. Pulling, pulling, pulling still….until I hold the fibers of my spine tingling in my hands. Perhaps the invisible lines of separation created by philosophy and western culture will simply “poof” disappear….. and the fullness of union with all things will take its place….

Vernal Equinox

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In the northern hemisphere, we are quickly approaching the time of the Vernal Equinox. The point of perfect balance on the journey through the Wheel of the Year. Night and day are of equal length and in perfect equilibrium – dark and light, masculine and feminine, inner and outer, in balance. But the year is now waxing and at this moment light defeats the dark. The natural world is coming alive, the Sun is gaining in strength and the promise of days becoming longer and warmer has arrived. A sacred time for celebration for it is the first day of Spring!

In ancient times, the Anglo-Saxon goddess Ostara was traditionally honored with festivals to celebrate fertility, renewal and re-birth. Symbols of Ostara include the hare, eggs and hot cross buns or Ostara cake…. In the Celtic tradition, the hare is sacred to the Goddess and is a symbol for the moon and of fertility and abundance. The egg symbolizes the inherent ‘potential’ of itself and all seeds, full of promise and new life. It symbolizes the rebirth of nature, the fertility of the Earth and is a symbol for the whole universe. The egg yolk and the egg white represents the balance of male and female, of light and dark, while its underlying energy is one of growth and expansion.

One can prepare an egg as a talisman or an ornament for your altar. A general rule of thumb is to use a brown egg for wishes involving animals and white for wishes involving people and plants. Preparation of the egg shell is important, no matter how you choose to decorate your egg. You must first empty it of its contents: Using a fat needle, pierce a hole in both ends of the egg, making one hole larger than the other. Using the needle pierce the egg yolk gently and swirl it around to break up the yolk. Place a small drinking straw in one end and gently blow through the other hole to release the yolk and whites from inside the egg.

Last year, our Circle marbled our blown eggs the simple ingredients of using shaving crème, food coloring and vinegar. There is a link below that describes the process… they came out beautifully! We later used fishing line to hang them…. When hanging, clear your mind and focus on your desire for abundance/fruitfulness and its place in your life. An old incantation may be used such as ‘Little charm made of shell as I hang you here may all be well. May all things grow. May all things flow. Blessings for the turning of the Wheel.” Really though, any words will we to express your Intent.

How to Dye Eggs With Whipped Cream (A safer alternative to Shaving Cream Easter Eggs)

Now for some baking… Ostara Bread recipe provided by “The Goddess and the Green Man” website.
Ingredients:
3 mugs (@ 4.5 cups) of flour
500 mls (2 cups) buttermilk
1 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
3 teaspoons ground almonds (optional)
3 tablespoons syrup or warmed honey
juice of 2 lemons
1 small beaten egg for glazing
Brown sugar for sprinkling
Blend the ground almonds

and flour together in a large bowl. Make a well in the center and pour in the buttermilk/lemon juice and syrup or honey. Mix well. Celebrate this time and “mix in” your hopes, dreams, ideas and wishes for the year to come…
Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured board and pat into a circle. With a sharp knife lightly score the bread into two halves to represent the Equinox. Glaze with beaten egg and sprinkle sugar over the top. Bake in a 350 degree oven for about 25 to 30 minutes…Enjoy!

Illustration “Vernal Goddess”, Montage

(2019) B. Donohue. Copyright restrictions apply.

Spring Fevered…

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“Spring Fever” is an old saying that describes a feeling of invigoration and restlessness associated with the arrival of warmer weather and the renewal of nature with the coming of Spring. I also believe it describes the powerful effect anticipation and longing have for these changes in the environment after enduring a long winter.

That is how I found myself today, longing for the arrival of sunshine and warmer temperatures to break the monotony of grey skies heavy with promise of rain and snow…

One can readily tell when the temps begin to warm and the soils release their icy grip. Look to the changing colors of willow branches along with the creek dogwood and wild rose. All of a sudden, a blush of color appears within the brown, dull landscape. Twigs the color of a newborn baby’s skin, and pink hues likened to a child’s cheek after playing in the fresh air, begin to rise. My emotional state always feels a bit lighter when seeing this, coupled with an adult knowledge that we have weeks to go before the blooming of the Hawthorn tree, or the appearance of the first wild violet.

I went outside today into the creeks and flooded fields to look for basket weaving materials. A fool’s venture of course, there are no young tender shoots to cut yet. What I came upon is what is called “last year’s growth”… slender branches bearing catkins and buds too thick and brittle to use in a basket. Yet my longing lead me outside…to observe the upcoming stormy changes in the atmosphere, and to be among the familiar features of my local landscape…sigh! All in all, a good afternoon….

In the Shadow of the Mountain….

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We traveled down the eastside of the Sierra Nevada Mountains yesterday to visit with my twin sister on our birthday. We followed familiar paths along the highway driving through the Honey Lake Basin, Hallelujah Junction, skirting through the Truckee Meadows basin of Reno into the expanses of the Carson River Valley.

I identify landscapes by their principle features rather than man-made cities and landmarks. We are newcomers here to northern California and the Intermountain West. The arrival of miners and pioneers to these lands roughly occurred about 170 years ago in the early 1850’s. Many folks came West a decade prior to the outbreak of the American Civil War, seeking to improve their lives through the promise of open land, rich in resources. Since that time, the impact of human settlement into western basins and mountain slopes has been staggering.

So, I keep my eyes soft when viewing a landscape. It is the landform itself, its avalanche chutes, erosional patterns, dendritic fingers of water flow, traces of vegetation that indicate the presence of water…or lack thereof. Deposition of rock, clay, granitic sand and surface salts, all demarcated by the presence or absence of specialized plant species. Together, these features show me the surface characteristics of Gaia’s skin….that fine, intricate, biogeochemical layer that creates the alchemy for Life on earth. Man-made environments do not hold any importance to my eyes…I view them as a temporary assault, an imperfect construct on the surface of a planet that alchemizes inorganic features into ecosystems of great Beauty and Balance.

My sister lives in a house located on the toe slope of Jobs Peak, a mountain that rises 10, 648 feet and towers above the floor of the Carson Valley. A staggering monolith of fine-grained rocks and interestingly enough, stream gravel deposits that were laid down by an ancient river that flowed from Nevada into California before the Sierra Nevada was uplifted. Lots of sandy soils and deposits where one can find shrubs of ephedra (or Mormons tea) and large sagebrush.

It is easy to dull the senses when living within the comfort of walls, a door and windows that turn you into an observer of any given landscape. You cannot feel the wind on your face behind a window, and it proves difficult to pick up nuances in color and smell of the place in which you are standing. Yet the presence of a mountain…one simply cannot ignore it.

I can actually feel its presence, like a pressure between my shoulder blades….centered over the back where my heart chakra lies. I am compelled to breathe deep, to expand my diaphragm and lungs in an effort to soothe my parasympathetic nervous system. I feel jangled, oppressed to the point of sleep. Everything in me is overpowered by its Presence, its majesty. I nod my head toward its direction and speak a prayer of humility and gratitude to its Strength….

Nature is not a demure entity. We often compartmentalize Her into safe, bite-sized pieces…..She is anything and everything but “domesticated”, She is not “safe”…. or “cuddly”. Her Strength rents the mantle of Earth, her fires consume and poison the very air we breathe. She gives and takes all Life, every rick, cot and tree. Nothing survives Her. Everything created by Her, every form of Life, is taken back by Her. Everything…..I can only stand before Her in Wonder and Awe…..

Upcoming workshops I am offering at the Living in Wellness Center in Adin, CA this Spring

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Saturday, March 16th 10-12 noon “Herbal teas, decoctions, oxymels and tinctures”. Workshop will cover information and techniques for creating healing elixir’s and tonics for Spring and Summer.

Saturday, March 30th 10-1pm “Fermentation 101” covering yoghurt, keifer, kombucha, fermented fruits and vegetables, and homemade sourdough starter….

Saturday, April 13th 10-1pm “Cooking with the Sun” a solar cooker workshop introducing box, parabolic, reflector and vacuum tube solar ovens and their use. Full instructions for making a homemade solar over will be included. Film and handouts….

May 27th and 28th (Saturday and Sunday) 10-2pm “The Wildcrafted Basket”. Saturday will be spent in identification and preparation of Wildcrafted Basket materials. Sunday will be spent in creation of the baskets with various weaving techniques…

A Prayer Feather

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A Prayer Feather

I am not Native American by any measure of the imagination. I do not use indigenous peoples rituals or symbolism in my spiritual sojourn here, nor in my rituals…. It simply is not “me”. My ancestry is of mixed bloodlines, similar to most of us that have been created out of the great diaspora of humans migrating across the globe over the past 500 years.

I come from pretty much northern European peoples: English, Irish, Spanish and French. My paternal grandmother’s people come from New Spain, before California was explored by the Spaniards. Some of the people in my ancestral line were born in the Mexican landscape, part of the ancient lands of Mesoamerica. My paternal grandfather’s lineage is a mix of English and French. My maiden name of “Rowley” is a locational name that came from a variety of places in England including Devon, County Durham, Staffordshire, and Yorkshire. It means a “overgrown wood or clearing” in Old English. The lineage on my mother’s side of the family is predominately Irish and English.

Now… onto the subject of feathers…. Feathers come to me on a regular basis. They are easily found where I live. Il often find them whenever I am out camping and fishing. Often beneath old growth pine trees that serve as perches for eagle, osprey and hawks. I have never delved into the symbolic meaning of feathers until recently….
My ancestors carried ideas and beliefs about feathers that were entrenched within their cultures. Celtic lore holds the perspective that feathers were related to the realm of the sky gods where one could gain knowledge of the celestial realm. In Britannia, the raven symbolized death, while the robin heralded the Christian season of Christmas and the promise of Spring. The eagle represented power, whereas the dove symbolized the virtue of peace and the red kite represents “wildness” of both landscape and its creatures. My Hispanic ancestors lived in a world where feather-working was a common craft and the wide use of feathers was embedded in an intricate cultural and economic milieu.

Who knows where my connection with birds and feathers come from? I simply know that feathers come to me through discovery or gift. Needless to say, it is “in my blood” somewhere in my combined lineages that I feel I am given permission for right “use” of a feather to carry my prayers and intention in the winds of this world…. separate from the beliefs and practices of any indigenous people.

The idea of a Prayer Feather came to me just the other day. I have a friend, once a lover of mine, who is near death. His sojourn is a quiet, private affair, and I wanted to offer something of support his transition. He has Cherokee ancestors which lie in his blood, and I wanted to offer something symbolic which meant something deeper than a simple farewell from my Heart to his….

When contemplating this, my eyes fell upon a large jar of feathers sitting in the work space of my art studio. I gently pulled out feathers of the Golden eagle, Redtail hawk, Marsh hawk, Great blue heron, Whistling Swan and of the Snow goose. These birds are common here, found in the nearby forests and open wetland systems of Big Valley. As I bound the feathers, I picked up on the sound of a Song…..vibrations of tone and pitch. As if my friend’s ancestors had begun to Sing him Home….I certainly hope so….

My prayer is for the Eagle to give him Strength and Courage in this Time of Transition and to carry his Spirit to the next realm with ease…. For the Hawk to guard him on his Journey, and for the Whistling Swan to embrace him Grace and Beauty….. all of them bundled to carry his Spirit…. Home.

Of Timeless Motion …

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Simple reflections on a Rocking Chair…

The time has arrived in this household to recycle the over stuffed recliners in the living area. They are no longer comfortable due to their lack of proper spine support … a requirement now with these aging bodies. I have one hardwood rocking chair acquired from my next door neighbor some years ago, but needed another chair to replace my own marshmallow recliner. I remembered an old friend, a rocking chair I purchased when I was expecting my second child. It has been stationed in the screened in porch for decades now.

I went out to look at it and realized that the wood looked parched and dry, in need of a coat of lacquer or something. I softly pulled it onto the front porch to get a better look at it and to clean it with a damp cloth. My oh my, ….

The rocker is now close to 40 years old. I purchased it as an unfinished piece from a Sears and Roebuck catalogue. I remember it arriving in pieces in a box. I had to sand each piece of the rocker by hand, glue the pieces together and put on only one coat of stain to treat the wood and give it a bit of color. I was alone at the time, with a 4-year old daughter in tow and 8 months pregnant. Bearing a child from a failed marriage where neither of us were wanted.

This rocker symbolizes my motherhood, and now my aging. It is one of only a few items I have held in possession for this long length of Life and living…. It has Witnessed the quietness and care of my children, provided comfort and remedy to our tears. Solace in loneliness and playful observance to laughter and tickle fights.

It is a rich metaphor in that it Rocks my World in the form of perpetual motion…rhythmical in the face of Change and the Turning of age and awareness of Self under the stars of a night sky.

It will hold a place of Honor in my home because the rocking motion quiets my soul. It holds the power to provide me with moments of “This-ness”, making me aware of simply Being while I rock. Periods of Time that embrace the resonance of All That Is. Time becomes suspended and all things are held in Balance. A powerful tool with powerful Medicine and provides Blessings, many Blessings…

Of Seahorses and Diving Deep…

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I recently learned that the Seahorse is one of my ruling signs, having been born in the beginning of the month of March . A welcomed seasonal time of rain and of warming soils after the frigid hold of winter. It is the first month of the Roman Calendar due to the arrival of Spring, of Worm moons, and the movement of migrating birds to their northern breeding grounds.

I never had a thought about seahorses. Never. I live deep inland, in a landscape formed by volcanoes, at the edge of the high desert of the Intermountain West. A friend of mine had surprised me with a mailer from the United Kingdom that held a small exoskeleton of a seahorse. A small creature she had found somewhere in a trinket shop, and had given it a safe place in her home for decades.

I had mixed feelings upon opening the package and pulling this small, dried seahorse from its wrapping. It lay small and light in the palm of my hand, and I pondered the meaning of the arrival of this small creature in my Life … after all, it had just traveled across an ocean and thousands of miles over land to reach my opened palm. Sacred Geometry, Holy Synchronicity.

The exoskeleton is exquisite to look at. They are considered a species of fish strictly due to the fact that they breathe through a set of gills, and have an air bladder for ballast in the water. They are found in shallow coastal waters, and due to their limited mobility, lead lives within a small home range. I have learned that they are voracious feeders, mate for the life of the one, have excellent eyesight and are masters of the art of camouflage… intriguing features of such a small creature. It is the male of the species that is impregnated by the female and carries the offspring to term .. they birth thousands of young each year. How crazy is THAT? The seahorse I received is a male.

The symbolic meanings of the seahorse are both intricate and diverse with mystical significance among the Ancient Greeks, Celts, other European seafaring folk and Asians. Their attributes include: Patience, Friendliness, Protection, Inflexibility, Perspective, Generosity/Sharing, High-Perception, Persistence, and Contentment. Wow, what a mix of qualities! They are considered to be a relatively calm, and mild-mannered creature that amble about to roam the seas with patience and contentment.

So what does this little creature offer me? It offers ALL of its attributes to my Journey at this time. A good ally to have nearby while I dive into the depths of Self, of Possibility, of Vision, and the release of my own Medicine in this fragile time of Turning to Heal not just myself, but also our World…..Namaste.

The Healer of Woundedness…..Willow

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I was visiting with some dear friends this past weekend and came upon a massive willow tree in their yard. The tree was huge, a native species that had stood in the floodplain of the creek all of its long life. I took special notice of a gaping wound located at the base of its thick trunk. Her Wound was located just above Her roots, and I reflected on all of the wounds inflicted on Women….from the past to the present. What I saw within the wounds of this magnificent tree, was the greatest potential for healing I have ever observed as an herb-wife in the plant kingdom.

The Willow tree is a potent, potent ally to women. Has been since ancient times. It is associated with the moon, water, the Goddess and all that is feminine. It is a tree of dreaming, intuition and deep emotions. Symbolically it belongs to the beginning of spring, and is directly related to the celebration of “Imbolc” in early springtime. The essential power of the Willow is to teach us about the Feminine, connect us to our feelings and enhances our capacity to dream. She does this to bring our emotions to the surface for healing. My favorite ancient herbalist, Culpeper, says in his Complete Herbal “The moon owns the willow” and it was known as the witches’ tree and the tree of enchantment. The Internet has volumes of information on this subject under “Willow folklore”….

I created this montage to Honor Her Spirit and great capacity for Healing our wounds as Women in this World…..