Coyote Speaks

When you don't cover up the world with words and labels,

a sense of the miraculous returns to your life

that was lost a long time ago

when humanity,

instead of using thought,

became possessed by thought.

Eckhart Tolle

I traveled to an event this past weekend with the Central Coast Chapter of Sisters in Crime to sell books at the Zaca Mesa Winery on the California coast near Santa Barbara. A fellow writer friend, Krista Lynn, whose book was in the process of being published at the time, agreed to go with me.

On the drive, we were discussing what we can realistically expect to accomplish with one or two books, acknowledging to each other that we just have to stay focused on the writing and not be over-much taken up with the promotion side of the business.  

At that moment, a coyote trotted across the highway in front of the car. He looked straight at us before moving on, basically confirming what we were just talking about.

I try always to be open to nature when it speaks. In animal totem meaning, the coyote is the trickster, full of fun and playfulness, teaching through paradox and revealing the truth behind illusion and chaos. He was affirming our conclusion to not take things too seriously and keep more balance between wisdom and playfulness on our writer journey and we paid attention. I’m very grateful to have a friend that also believes nature speaks to us.

“The wisdom delivered by the coyote spirit animal is rarely direct. The way of the coyote is to teach through ways that do not appear straightforward. It may also use subterfuge or trickery to reach its goal or deliver its message.”  (Spirit animals and animal totems )

Morro Bay

The funny thing about this trip was that everything seemed to be out of sync from that moment on. Kris kept commenting how it seemed like we were wavering between two dimensions where things were reversed or out of order. 

We stopped at Morro Rock

The perfect example was when we got to the hotel where we were staying which I'd never been to before. We walked into the lobby—on the 4^th floor, the rest of the hotel being below that going down to the 3^rd, 2^nd and 1^st floors in that order. Then when we got to our room and opened the door, there were already people in it. How often does that happen? And breakfast was on the 3^rd floor. I could never remember which to press for the elevator--up or down.

So why am I talking about this? Coyote teaches that reality is not always what it seems, or what we take it to be; he offers hidden wisdom with a sense of humor. His appearance only confirmed—that things do not always come in the order that would seem logical, and that the ‘magic’ exists in wondrous ways if we only keep our mind open to all possibilities. 

Some would say we are simply twisting what occurs to formulate a magical conclusion, but I would counter that life exists on many levels we can’t see or acknowledge unless our minds stay open.  

The closed mind cannot see outside its self-imposed parameters. (a coraism)

“Your assumptions are your windows on the world. Scrub them off every once in a while, or the light won't come in.” ― Isaac Asimov

Did you know that the color blue was not seen until more recent times? We somehow did not see a distinction between green and blue. Now we can argue with all kinds of logical reasons for that, but the point is that there is much in our world we don’t see—for whatever reason—and staying open and flexible seems to bring that hidden ‘magic’ into our awareness.

In the words of Eckhart Tolle, use thought but don’t be possessed by thought. Stay open and observe the wonder around you. 

Have you had an animal encounter that spoke to you? Leave a comment. 

Filling the Dry Well

It’s been a while since my last post. I’ve been taking a breather and getting some space in my expectations. I think writers, at least this one, need space from the responsibilities of either writing or promoting. A vacation from the writing business.

When I overdo on anything, I get sort of nauseous. Then I know it's time to back off and regroup. I am not afraid to stop everything to do this. Promotion be damned. The pressure is always on to write, write, write. And then, promote, promote, promote. But sometimes that is the last thing needed by this writer. To put pressure on myself when I need a break is to further dam up my energy.

So, in May, I went to the ocean. I took several days and planted myself alone in an environment that fed and healed my soul. I was grateful to have that time and that place. I was housed in the midst of trees and animals in the woods of Pacific Grove, California. 

I watched deer walk by my window most days, squirrels play in the dirt and chase each other around the trees and ravens greet me loudly each day when I stepped outside. Sometimes leading the way, sometimes dogging my heels.

A short stroll along the walkway built over the ecological area to preserve the native plants from damage took me right to the ocean.








I people-watched, climbed over rocks to the tide pools, noting anemone and birds while collecting shells and pretty bits of things like a bird.


I observed the various bird tracks on the sand in early morning before people waded through destroying the poetic visual. And noted the waves and change of tides over the span of those few days

I laid back on the warm sand, eyes closed while running my fingers through the grains and taking in the warmth of the sun on a hazy, cool afternoon.

Poetry ran through my head. Writing ideas flitted through my mind. But I just let them slide by, knowing they would come back to visit when I was ready to write again.

I drank coffee in the misty, foggy mornings while seated on the leather couch inside the lodge, reading stories on my Kindle.


Warmed by a blazing fire the staff kept stoked all morning, I jotted down notes of the trip and ideas for stories to come.



One story has since evolved into a flash fiction piece in Sirens Call Publication e-zine, called Night Lover, an erotic horror story which was a new genre for me in their Crypto theme. It is free to download at the site.

I also came up with an idea for a past-life short story, more in my genre, and eventually entered it to the SLO Nightwriters contest, themed: Déjà vu. (I'm waiting until the end of July to find out what happens with that one)

So if you find yourself blocked, stuck, dry, barren, depleted, blank—i.e. writer’s block, then try a change of place. A place where you can notice the details around you that you miss in your everyday life. The fresh perspective is effective in filling your dry writing well.


Does a change of place appeal to you? Work to fill your well?

 

 

Traveling Along the Windmills of My Mind

If I could go anywhere, where would it be?

The question for me would not necessarily be WHERE. True, there are places I yearn to visit, but those take a second place to the HOW.

I have always loved traveling around with my husband in an open, unplanned way—more like jumping in the car (camper, plane) and let’s see what happens. Although it is harder to do this for all places or when  traveling far from home, we always try to leave enough open spaces in any plans for the ‘magic’ to happen; the unexpected, the chance encounters, the surprises.

I like trusting the universe to bring what is needed, that the best will come—or at the very least, what I need to learn. Sometimes I get back what I need in unpleasant ways, showing me the state my head is in—it being a reflection of where I am at the moment—a wake-up call. So if you don’t like surprises, it is probably not for you. If you are not sure where your ‘head is at,’ it may not be something you want to try.

It is definitely an intuitive way to travel. You are trusting to be led by your intuition and if you haven’t honed your intuition, it may not be something to suddenly try. It is how I traveled when I found the inspiration for my novel, Dance the Dream Awake.

I imagine that some street people who choose to live on the street are in that state of mind a lot and it may be the reason they don’t want the responsibility of a house, car, job; responsibilities that modern society brings with it. The experience of living in the present is a ‘high.’ Or, it can be a smack up-side-the head if you are out of balance in your life.

When it works in positive ways, it is exhilarating. You meet people who open you to something new. That could be a fresh perspective, information to help you further your journey, a gift from the universe, a unique place to visit you would not have found on your own, etc.

Backpacking is also like this, but I have always been a car person. I love my car (not the vehicle, but the mode of travel) although campers can be wonderful as well. The whole camper community is a lovely way to be as well as to travel.

To travel in this open way, you do not go from Point A to Point B to Point C. Instead you wander from Point A to stops along the way that may lead you down side roads, detours or unexpected sightseeing stops you had not planned, meeting people you might not have imagined, and then on to Point B or maybe skip B to detour through another series of place to Point C. And so on.

We traveled around the country in a converted school bus in the 60’s, following a caravan of busses around the country to listen to a ‘new age’ guru who spoke at major universities around the country. I gained more wisdom in those months than I could have learned my whole life. Everything was accelerated. It was not all good experiences, but the bad experiences taught me things I needed to learn very quickly—through reverse learning, i.e., I learned what I did not want for the rest of my life. But the good experiences were priceless. I saw the beauty in people; the giving, selflessness that exists everywhere in this country. From the coasts, to the heartland of America, to the ghettos of Washington, D.C. there are good, loving people who are willing to give you the shirt off their back to help you from the little that they themselves may have.

There was:

The Hawaiian singer on Kauai that touched our hearts and we touched hers—that when we left she cried. The same with a Tahitian dancer we met on a different trip.

The young couple in Oklahoma that took us into their home to share an evening with friends in conversation that was exhilarating, loving and unforgettable. 

The old guide at the ruins of Coba that the other guides looked down upon for his poverty and lack of book-learned information, but from which we gleaned information that was handed down by word of mouth, showing us different leaves used for teas and herbal remedies, who my husband gave his shirt to because he sensed the man needed it (a sturdy shirt for a working man in the heat of Mexico’s interior) but did so on the QT because my husband sensed the other guides would criticize him if they knew, but whose gratitude was evident. It is not always about what we can receive but about what we can give and share.

So, yes, there are places I would love to see, but if I never get to them I can still travel by car and gain the more important gift of travel—meeting new people that add value to life, and learn things I might not have otherwise learned.

Have you ever traveled like that?

Visit these fellow writers who are also writing about: If you could travel anywhere, where would you go?
Kim Moser Griffin
Siri Paulsen
Ellen Gregory
Liv Rancourt
Janice Hall Heck
Nikki McCormack