Leap of Faith

July 16, 2008
Crater Lake National Park

I am furious again. As the moon nears fullness it draws it out of me-this raw energy, this great upwelling of feeling. At least now its origins are apparent so I can dive below the surface fury and find the pure energy– of Life, wholeness, health, respect, and great love. 

The first time this fury consumed me we were in Zion National Park. Here is what I uncovered:

May 27, 2008

I awoke, a few mornings ago in Zion, furious. Zion, land of refuge, a place to Be, to behold and to be upheld, even in the land of dark feelings. 

I don’t enjoy being furious. I experience incredible energy (I’m sure our tent was glowing) that is incredibly painful and confusing. I want to break things. My fury is all there is and all there will ever be. Thank goodness I know there is always something beneath anger-hurt, sadness, fear, or all three. And that as soon as I can let myself sink beneath the anger the clarity of my heart will replace the confusion of my mind.

Oh, but it is scary to let myself feel the intensity of those feelings. It takes will power to enter that storm, not knowing if I will be capsized. The safe harbor of my husband’s arms and love helps immensely. And so we journeyed together-me spilling my guts out while Roger listened with the ears of love. The pain rose as wild waves of grief over the damage to my life, to the life of the planet and to the life of all of us and all my relations caused by patriarchy. 

Patriarchy-that life-annihilating cult of deifying the masculine and excluding all else. That cult of power, possessions and punishment.

Now, as I write this, tears rise to my eyes. I feel this pain in my bones. I grieve for my beloved planet, on the brink of destruction. I grieve for my beloved polar bears, on the brink of extinction as the ice floes, upon which they depend, melt. I grieve for my sister, her physical and mental health so fragile as a result of a family riddled with alcohol, incest, and the abuses inherent in adjusting to a system so out of balance, and to a husband riddled with the physical and metal shrapnel of war. 

I recently received an email with pictures of the latest shoe fashion in Japan-women literally on their toes, like ballet pointe shoes, but with stiletto heels. (click here to download a pdf containing these photos) The email also included pictures of an old woman and her bound feet. As she unrolled the cloth, you could see how her toes were made to curve under the souls of her feet so that she could barely even walk, hobbled as surely as those within prison walls. Her crime-being born female. (click here to download a pdf containing these photos) 

The next day on the shuttle bus in Zion we passed the “Court of the Patriarchs”, three large mountains named for Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and I felt a twinge of fury. Even in Zion Mother Earth has been colonized by the cult of exclusive masculinity. HOW LONG WILL WE BIND WOMEN’S FEET? HOW LONG WILL WE BIND MEN’S SOULS? HOW LONG WILL WE BIND OUR OWN EYES TO WHAT IS HAPPENING TO OUR HOME? HOW LONG WILL THE LEARNED HELPLESSNESS OF OUR COLONIZED MINDS DICTATE OUR ACTIONS AND LACK THEREOF?

Fury. Then I cried with the pain. Roger held me as I grieved. Under the pain I touched the profound love I have for this Earth and all her creatures. 

Later that morning I read in Circle of Stones, Woman’s Journey to Herself by Judith Duerk, a passage that illuminated this experience:

“To discover who she is, a woman must descend into her own depths. She must leave the safe role of remaining a faithful daughter of the collectives around her and descend to her individual feeling values. It will be her task to experience her pain…the pain of her own unique feeling values calling to her, pressing to emerge. To discover who she is, a woman must trust the places of darkness where she can meet her own deepest nature and give it voice…as she comes to a true and certain sense of herself.” 

Ahhh, so that is what is happening. It is my work of this journey, I am coming to realize, to experience all that I feel, to experience all of me. I hope to emerge with greater integrity and greater clarity on how best to spend my precious life energy. It will be in the service of Life, in some form, as it has been in the past. I hope it will be with even greater effectiveness in this time of great need.

Zion cradled me as the storm raged. As the waves quieted (for now) Zion spoke to me through the elegant embrace of her red walls-“Give birth daughter; give birth to yourself yet again.” 

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July 16, 2008

The episodes of fury have been both disturbing and illuminating. Birth is always challenging. The depth passion I discovered beneath my fury–for wholeness, health, respect, and love for this planet and all its Life informs the answer to the question I’ve been nurturing for the past two months: “What next shall I do with my life?”

This part of our adventure is nearly over–we drive to civilization in a couple of days, visit with loved ones, assume daily responsibilities. I don’t yet have the picture of my new work in sharp focus, but colors and shapes are emerging as I contemplate the inner journey I’ve been on. How will I share the fruits of this birthing? How will I live my passion and share my gifts? How will I help manifest the Sacred Feminine and so help restore health and balance on Earth?

For those contemplating similar questions, I invite you to email me with your discoveries and questions. Only by joining together, women and men, each doing our own work, will we be able to give this world what it so needs at this time. As Alice Walker reminds us: “Anything we love can be saved.” 

In celebration of the love that flows through us all,
Veronica

Ted, the man who checked us into our hotel room in Sante Fe (Hi Ted!) was reading a book when we walked into the lobby about communicating with animals. I told him about a book I’ve owned and loved for decades: Kinship With All Life, by Boone, that describes how the author was taught to communicate with animals by the movie-star Strongheart, a German Shepherd he had the good fortune to take care of for awhile. We had an unexpectedly delightful time sharing a reality we don’t seem to share with every one.

As we were eating our final breakfast at the Silver Saddle before leaving for Taos, we shared the story of our journey into trust and faith with Ted who seemed to enjoy it. He gifted us with a music video he had made and he gifted us with these words of blessing: 

“In joy, harmony and safety I step into the unknown.
In joy, harmony and safety I step into the unknown”.

He also gave us these words of wisdom, which he attributed to Kahil Gibran (a teacher of mine from way back): 

“Fill your day with beauty and to hell with the rest.”

Words to live by. Thank you Ted. 

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From the awning of our tent trailer we hang prayer flags. My favorite is the prayer/greeting “Namaste”: 
“I honor the place in you in which the entire universe dwells. I honor the place in you which is of love, of truth,  of light and of peace. When you are in that place in you and I am in that place in me, we are one.”
When you are in that place in you, that place of utter connection with all of life, and I am in that place in me, there is only one of us. 

I dwell in that place, sometimes for only an instant, sometimes for longer. It is my favorite place in the Universe. I  think that is why I love Nonviolent Communication (www.cnvc.org) so much–it is a way of understanding and action  that leads to that place of oneness. When I surrender my goals and only strive to find connection with myself or  another, I fall into that place of oneness. And magically, it seems, a path always appears before me. 

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Roger found this gem the other day:
“Do not go where the path may lead.
Go instead where there is no path, and leave a trail.”
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

A friend who knows me well gave me a refrigerator magnet for a going away present. It is 2″ square and has a picture of two women in 1940’s fancy dress, putting on their matching gloves. The inscription reads: “They made it  their strict policy never to err on the side of caution.”

Ralph just said it with more poetry. When I see the magnet I laugh. It is so me. A “safe” life has never appealed to  me. There doesn’t seem to be any real safety in the outside world anyway, and inner safety, I’ve learned, depends  upon living an authentic life, a heart-led life. 

And so here I sit in my campsite at Great Basin National Park (an undiscovered gem), being buzzed by a hummingbird with the smell of butterscotch in the air and the music of water dancing down the mountain in my ears. There is safety in all this beauty, in all this love, in living a life dependent upon prayer-led inspiration. It is not  the kind of “safety” I am used to wanting, and it is the kind that is beginning to seem more and more real. Day by  day we wallow in beauty, look for connection and strive not to err on the side of caution. Some days are still very  challenging, and I think I’m learning to trust and have faith that this path will lead us to where we are going. 

Namaste, 
Veronica

June 7, 2008

I sat in the morning sun yesterday, surrounded by bird song and 20′ gambrel oaks on top of this 8000′ mesa. I sat while Roger explored cliff dwellings; my sprained ankle luring me to sit still, and Be. 

I read a passage from Urgent Message from Mother-Gather the Women, Save the World by Jean Shinoda Bolen. It told about the effective power of women who gather together–to save a redwood grove, to advocate for a woman exposing her psychiatrist who had sex with her during her sessions, to push for the establishment of an independent commission on 9/11 which brought to light that their were no links to Iraq. (This Park, Mesa Verde, in all its wonder and mystery, was saved through the relentless work of two women and the women’s club that was formed to that purpose.) And I thought-I’ve saved my redwood grove, so to speak. I’ve worked for wildlife and worked in environmental education. I’ve whispered encouragement to women birthing their babies in the sanctity of their own home. I’ve advocated for women and men to come into their power, their self-respect, become conscious of and embrace what they value most dearly. I now deeply yearn to contribute to the change that would make lives of wholeness and abundance possible for All. Through my tears the core of my being prayed, “Oh Goddess, show me how I can help the whole world!”

To my surprise I heard an immediate answer: “First, know your connection with all things. Give up all idea of smallness.”

OH. That was startlingly clear. I guess that is my work now-to see myself whole, powerfully connected to All. To let go of my “don’t belong”, “not good enough”, “something inherently wrong with me” beliefs. OK. Will (continue to) work on that.

I notice there is no “second”, and may never be. Perhaps the realization I will come to is that whatever we do, because we are truly an integral part of the whole of existence, affects the whole of existence. Or maybe I will get to do something that will impact world peace in a way I can see. I’m sure I won’t know until and if that time comes. (Roger and I are very sure we are learning God’s timing on this trip-we get to know something when we actually need to know and not a moment before.) 

My work-to let go of self-limiting beliefs-continues for me, and that will do for now. Goodness knows I’ve got a lot of material to work with. Any hints you want to offer from your own journey to embrace wholeness would be appreciated. Together, we’ll figure this out.

From under the gambrel oaks, surrounded by bird song, inspired by the Goddess:

There Is No Small
by Veronica Lassen

My bones are made from
starlight and dirt,

My limbs are
spreading trees.

The very breath I inhale moves
mountains,

The air I exhale nourishes
oceans. 

My mind travels faster than
light,

My soul dwells in the 
Goddess.

There is no small in a 
human being.

My hair is the color of late summer wheat fields silvered by
moonlight.

My heart leaps and races as the
river rapids.

My skin stretches over all I know to be me-
Earth’s crust.

My love encompasses ever more the
Spiral Galaxy.

My breasts nourish
Life.

There is no small in a 
woman.

Interesting bits of information and wonder spring up in diverse places like wildflowers tucked into unexpected nooks and crannies. Walking through the canyons of the dry, red, sandstone of Zion, all of a sudden you come to a Weeping Wall where the water oozes out of the vertical rock and yellow columbine cascade over your head. These ideas cascaded over mine:

Our friendly waiter at the brew-pub, after discussing the merits of the elephant and lizard microbrews and listening to Roger explain that elephants have a vocalization so low that humans cannot hear it, offered us a fact I did not know: crickets chirp at a frequency so high that depending upon our physiology at the moment, we hear it or not. So you might be out walking in the evening and suddenly become aware of a cricket where a moment before you did not hear it.

Today we floated down the great Colorado River, almost at flood stage, making rapids appear where they usually aren’t and hiding the beaches that usually are. Our raft guide Richard told us he came to this country from Maine. He floated down the river, had an epiphany, saw God and hasn’t left. 

He described much of the geology as we floated down between ever-changing sandstone walls (when he wasn’t pulling hard on the oars to keep us out of All-day Eddy or positioning us to get splashed as we bucked through a Class III rapid). There’s the petrified sand dunes when this area was near the equator and synclines and anticlines and monoclines. There’s the layer of sandstone formed from the erosion of the first Rockies, and a five-thousand foot layer of salt below all (deposited by past oceans) that turns liquid when the weight of all that rock becomes too much and so oozes here and there disrupting the rock layers on top causing all sorts of formations. He said, “The geologists will tell you the rocks are alive, they just move so slowly we can’t see it.”

Low elephant vocalizations…high cricket chirps…..rocks that move…what an amazing world! 

I know so much and so little. My understanding and appreciation of this world deepens, layer by layer, as I learn more and more. My appreciation of Mystery deepens the more I know I don’t know.

And so tonight, with these ideas cascading over my head, I find myself contemplating the idea of “Gaia” as more than a picturesque way of explaining the interconnected web of life. What if the Earth itself were truly alive? What if Gaia were a living being of unfathomable mystery? 

What would that make me, us? Are we a part, an integral part of Gaia, of Mystery? And if we believe this, how will we live in this world?

I will listen with my heart to the deep rumblings of these ancient, red, sand stone canyons for a possible answer. I invite you to listen to the holy ground upon which you stand. 

Shalom,
Veronica 

Dear ones of my heart,

We tried for almost two full days to ‘finish up’ our lives in Moscow and start on our travels. Why was it taking so long? We were packing for a trip of unknown lenght, to warm and cool places, mountains seashore and deserts, camping, backpacking, hoteling, oh, and we might not have access to our household for a very long time. OK. I can deal. Oops, if we have movers move our stuff they do not pack liquids–necessitating an odiferous and colorful mixture in the sink of a few bottles of old booze, many bottles of fabric dye, mouthwash (I broke my promise to my dentist), etc. They also charge by the ton–I-can’t believe-we have four-tons-of-stuff, let’s downsize. Then there were a gazillion errands to run and lose ends to tie up. Plus a little touch-up painting to make the house extra attractive and last minute watering of the new flowers I planted. (I just couldn’t help myself.)

At first I realized we wouldn’t be leaving Sunday. OK. Surely Monday morning by 10am…well, by noon….OK by 2pm–still time to travel a goodly distance. We cried our way out the door at 4:30pm, saying good bye to our home with all its memories, the community that grew us, and all the friends of our hearts.

Down the road a piece Roger played the first song of our travels: Everything Is Holy Now by Peter Mayer. “And I remember feeling sad / That miracles don’t happen still / But now I can’t keep track / ‘Cause everything’s a miracle.” Looking through those eyes I saw the glow of an almost risen moon. As I watched it rise over the mountains I realized it was a full moon and now everything made sense. Roger quit on the waxing quarter moon; we start our travels on the full moon–we are on goddess time, moon time and things will happen at just the right time.

We travel on faith, bouyed by the love we share with all of you, and in gratitude for each other and for this time-out-of-time. Who knows what the goddess will reveal tomorrow?

Shalom,

Veronica