Swan Sanctuary

Very few of us, in the past fifty years, have had the privilege of growing up with the advantage of eating freshly grown produce from the family garden. Our food comes from the local grocery store in cans, boxes, plastic bottles, and Styrofoam packaging. More and more produce now comes pre-bagged so that the consumer cannot see or feel the ripeness or quality of what’s inside. If we are so inclined, we can read the labels on the packaging to find out ingredients, expiration dates, percent of protein and vitamins, as well as information about the manufacturer. Rarely do we inquire as to the means by which the product was grown, harvested, and prepared for sale. Most of us have far too many other things to think about.

Prior to industrialization, the getting of food was a major concern for most people. We are no different than other species in that respect. We all need food to survive. What has passed as food; however, has become a serious question for those concerned about their health. The food industry combined with the medical establishments and the pharmaceutical companies have managed to create a self-serving condition, which for them, has become extremely lucrative. They produce non-foods laced with a multitude of mysterious and dangerous chemicals. Those people who eat these foods become ill with still more mysterious illnesses. Allergies are a big one. My ex-husband had eaten a cantaloupe one day while he was at work and proceeded to enter into anaphylactic shock. It was determined by the medical staff and later related to me by him, that he had an allergy to cantaloupe – that allergies often appeared later in life out of the blue.

I cannot help wondering if people suffered from allergies one hundred or two hundred years ago. Certainly, some were sensitive to springtime pollen and had bouts of hay fever; but the increase in allergies and those so called late-onset allergies have nothing to do with the food that a person is eating. Unless we purchase or grow certified organic, our produce is consistently doused with chemicals before it ever reaches our table. These herbicides, pesticides, fungicides, and high nitrogen chemically based fertilizers are found in the foods we consume. There are probably several in one food, interacting with other chemicals and diminishing the available nutrition, which in most instances, is mostly destroyed by the time it enters our digestive system. My husband did not question what he was told. He believed from that point forward that he was allergic to cantaloupe. It is far more likely; however, that what his body had actually reacted to, was whatever the cantaloupe had been sprayed with prior to his consuming it. I did not eat bananas for several years because I would get a strange soreness in my mouth whenever I ate them. Then someone told me about the stuff that is sprayed on bananas, so I began buying only organic ones. Not surprisingly, I no longer get sores in my mouth. Many people are convinced that they have allergies. They take drugs continually to alleviate symptoms. They are told that they should not have pets because they are allergic to the pet dander. Foods and allergies are not the enemy. It is the chemicals in our foods and all around us – the hidden enemy – that we must fear.

Our world was created in a harmonious way that allowed for the survival of all species (not necessarily individuals). I do not believe that allergies to the things in our environment existed before man began to tamper with that harmony. Human beings decided that they were smarter than their own creator and so far, they have made an abominable mess of things. How long will the general public continue to pull the wool over their eyes, believing only what the large corporate interests would have them believe?

Women have had to fight for equality in so many areas. During the women’s liberation movement of the late 1960’s many women entering into matrimony began hyphenating their names in order to retain their maiden name. When I was first married I was only too happy to release my stepfather’s name, which had been legally changed for me when I was eleven. Following my divorce, I went back to using the name of my biological father – the name that I had been born with. Later, I remarried and I gave up my birth name for a second time. I did not think much about it because I was in love and we all know that love is blind.

I have had years now, to consider the problems with names. Women have had to change their names for centuries to become Mrs. Somebody. For ages, we were nobody. We were property belonging first to our fathers and then to our husbands. Women clearly have had an identity crisis. Who were we? Who are we? My name has changed five times. Who am I?

It seems only right that children should all be given hyphenated names in order to honor both the father and the mother. If a woman retains only her father’s name, she is still upholding the tradition that her father was higher ranking than her mother, regardless that it was her mother’s womb that provided the means for her life to begin. It was, in most cases, her mother who raised her and who provided most of the nurturing that mothers are pre-wired for.

While I regret taking the last name of my now ex-husband, I have kept it because I am a published writer. I still contemplate the idea of changing it to honor both my parents. I will probably be cremated, but if I had a tombstone, which of my names would be the correct one to etch on it? Men have never had such a dilemma. They have never had to question who they are in terms of this physical realm. Women’s names are mostly indicative of the role we play at any given moment – miss, Ms., Mrs., mom, grandma. I hope my granddaughters can change this one day so that all women can know who they truly are.

Human beings take life so seriously. They create laws and infuse chosen people with the power to enforce them. This acquisition of power then becomes like a drug to those who have been bestowed with it. It often distorts and corrupts those who wield it excessively.

Power is given unto the laws themselves and granted legality, such as in a legal document. Innocent people are coerced into pleading guilty and to plea bargaining; thus becoming pawns in a complex game of power struggles between defending and prosecuting attorneys. The government, the law enforcement officers, the lawyers, the courts, the jurors, the judges, and those accused of breaking the laws, are the chess pieces on this board game of life. Within this framework, it is decided what is legal, what is not legal, and what can pass as legal.

My mother left my father when I was three. She remarried a couple of years later. The hostility displayed to me by my stepfather has taken me a lifetime to process. When I was eleven, he adopted me and my last name was changed to his. Had I reached the age of twelve, I could have refused to become his adopted daughter. Several years later when I was about to be married and needed my birth certificate in order to get a marriage license, I saw that my stepfather was named as my biological father. This was preposterous and I was outraged. My mother did not even know my stepfather when I was conceived! I was determined to have this document changed to reflect who my true father was, once my mother had passed. She finally died a year ago at the age of 94. My mother, my father, and my stepfather are all dead and buried in the same cemetery. Changing the document seems irrelevant now. Clearly, what is legal is not necessarily true. It is just a game that human beings have chosen to play.

We crave predictability. As long as we can count on a degree of sameness in our lives, we remain relatively calm. We are all creatures of habit to some extent. Our pets easily settle into our routines as well, often serving as our alarm clock or reminding us when it is time to feed them or walk them. I was making my coffee this morning, as I have done for fifty plus years, when I suddenly wondered, “How many more times will I do this before my life is done?”

These are uncertain times. A pandemic is not the widespread disease that it is known by, but rather a phenomenon of fear that sweeps people up in its glacial grip like a tornado gathering debris along its conoid path. Those who have been accustomed to rising and going to work every day are thrown off balance by the stay-at-home orders. This disruption to their routine causes anxiety on many levels. If you spend too much time listening to dramatized new casts, you can be swept up in the fear, remaining emotionally stuck and incapable of accepting this interruption in your life. That which you are most afraid of will come to pass.

Some are privately grateful for the unexpected opportunity to spend more time with their children and spouse. They are able to look beyond the current inconvenience and to look for ways to turn this predicament into something decidedly new and different. They will re-invent themselves, or possibly their lives. When you know that change is the only certainty and that adaptation is the only means to navigate the uncertainties, you discover underlying peace. Those of us, whose personal lives have undergone numerous changes, may find it easier to cope in this “new normal” that we must all adapt to. We have learned how to live with uncertainty.

We do not know which breath will become our last or which heartbeat will become the final knock on death’s door; however, if we keep on breathing one breath at a time, we can calm the anxious waves as they arise.  We become okay with what is and simply ask, “What’s next?” We are okay with that, too.

I may have mentioned in a previous post the six most important keys to personal peace that I have discovered throughout my lifetime. These discoveries were made after having bumbled relationships and challenging circumstances, which resulted in years of unnecessary suffering. In retrospect; however, I suppose the suffering was necessary in order for me to reach that place of clarity. Those agonizing years lasted only for as long as it took me to reach understanding, which in terms of eternity, were micro-years. Whenever we are suspended in a period of gloom it is like being stranded in a rough sea with gigantic waves barreling after us, ready to swallow us up and crash us onto the shore. It can feel as though we are utterly helpless over the events in our lives.

The keys that I will expound on are nothing new. Ancient sages and wise men and women have discovered and taught these same truths for centuries. Their words fall on mostly deaf ears because until a sufferer realizes that her suffering is optional, she will not be able to comprehend. I give you only six simple words that we all have heard, but until the meanings are embodied, they are merely words. The first word is gratitude, which must be felt and not merely spoken. If you add a drop of water at a time to a glass that is already full, it begins to overflow.  Would you prefer that your glass overflowed with grace, joy, and abundance – or with anger, hatred, and violence? It all depends upon the nature of the drops you are adding.

The second key is kindness. Kindness is the golden rule. How often do we treat others (even our enemies!) as we wish to be treated? Do we lower ourselves to their level – or do we rise above them, towards the light? Do we curse them – or do we pray for them?

The third key is service. Volunteering or intentionally doing something for another being (person, pet, wildlife, plants, the earth) enhances our own happiness. Giving of our time, our talent, and our resources does not deplete us; but invariably enriches every part of our own lives.

The fourth key is selflessness.  Our ego is necessary because it provides our individuality; but it must be restrained. If we are consumed with only our own life, with our hopes and dreams, and our problems, we fail to see our connection with all other life. We must recognize our insignificance. We are only a link in an infinite chain of life. Our purpose in life is only our purpose as it relates to the whole. The world does not revolve around us. If we put ourselves on a pedestal the only step we take will result in a great fall.

The fifth key, acceptance, is often the most difficult. Until we accept our current circumstances, we cannot change them. We can rant, rave, and rail against them; but it is like feeding a monster. It will grow larger and become more vicious. We can tame the monster by withholding the negativity that feeds it. In time, it will disappear and something new will emerge.

The final word is generosity. Whenever it appears that you have nothing to give, you will find that sharing what you do have, multiplies in mysterious ways. It is strange, but true. The more we give – of love, kindness, money, joy – the more we have!

I awakened to several inches of snow this morning and it is still coming down. In this part of the country, it will not be safe to plant outside for another month; therefore, I have immersed myself in starting many seeds indoors, with heat mats and a grow light. Every seed has its own special requirements for successful germination. Some insist on light to germinate, while others will only emerge in the dark. There are seeds that are reluctant to begin growth unless they have been soaked prior to sowing. Others require stratification, a period of cold, before they will attempt to push through their seed coat. Some are more demanding still, needing to be scarified or nicked, to create a weak spot in the coating from which the embryo can push its way through.

As mammals we can appreciate the pains that a mother and her offspring must go through, in order to give birth. Labors can be long and intense, whether only one or two babies are being brought forth, or an entire litter. Giving birth is laborious, after which comes the responsibility of protecting and nurturing the newly born. Life is challenging for all species. It is challenging for the flora, as well. Bulbs and seeds have to break open the shell of their seed in order to begin their growth. Their roots must thrust their way down through the soil, while their shoots nose their way up through it, towards the sunlight. Is it chance that allows them to germinate in just the right place, with the right conditions in the soil and the appropriate amount of water and light? If they reach the soil’s surface, only to find that they sit beneath the shadow of a large tree or at the edge of a dusty, gravel road, the will to survive persists. I often marvel at the energy and strength it requires for a plant to push through a concrete walk, or to climb a brick wall. Plants are tenacious. Birds are tenacious in building their nests. Mother bears protecting their young are a force to be reckoned with.

Life is hard regardless which kingdom, family, or taxa you belong to. It is amazing. It is beautiful to behold. Every year when springtime arrives we are reminded how precious and fragile life is. I watch my tiny seedlings growing in the window sill. I am in awe and very grateful that I have been able to provide the necessary ingredients for them to survive. Later in the season, they will provide pollen and nectar for other species, seeds for birds, and food for us. The struggle to be born and the determination to survive reside in the DNA of all life.

Each morning I wait for inspiration to fill my head so that I can write something that needs to be said through me. I never know until I begin, what will manifest through my fingers and onto the page before me. I often think of myself as a lighthouse. The light of Spirit shines through me, directing its rays out into the world, to draw those who seek the light. Sometimes I am a candle and the life force within me is the flame. Maybe I am a body of water from which the light reflects and becomes brighter. I am nothing. I am everything.

I have learned to rely solely on inner guidance. When I wrote Swan Sanctuary’s Guide I knew only that it needed to be written. Those who needed the information would be serendipitously led to it. When I wrote Question Everything, I knew that I was supposed to write it. I had no grandiose illusions that it would become a best seller or that I would sell a million copies. I had no preconceived ideas about where it would lead. Since its publication, I have been inundated with unsolicited emails and phone calls from people masquerading as publishing companies and agents, making their best sales pitch in hopes that I would hand over anywhere from $1000 to $5000 for their marketing expertise; making the false promise that my book was destined for success.

There are an infinite number of companies and individuals out there who write books and do interviews and create marketing schemes with the intent of teaching a writer how to write, how to get published, how to find an agent, and basically how to succeed as a writer. Self-publishing has gained popularity and extends more rights to the writer, but according to the experts, you have to devote several hours a day marketing yourself and your book. You have to create an online presence – a platform – so that you become noticed. In order to do this, you must have excellent computer skills or you must hire and expert who can do it for you.

I love to write. Many other people love to write and many are far better writers than I am. Still, I have never had a competitive bone in my body. I have no need to be noticed or to attain success. I do what I love to do and I do not do those things that I do not enjoy. Spending more time on the computer, or learning more computer skills, or becoming an expert at creating an online profile for my readers, would take away the time that I have to do those things I enjoy most, such as gardening, creating wildlife habitats, reading, cooking, and walking. If my book becomes noticed, or if I become noticed as a writer, it will not be because of my own efforts. It will be because I have made of myself a vessel, through which the light may shine.

I have become adept at acceptance for the most part. I accept the present moment as it is. I know that what I resist persists. There is one area; however, where I fall short. When every cell in my body aches for the balmy days of warmth and light, I have a difficult time accepting the endless cold and snow and wind. My mind is telling me that it should be spring and it is spring in those places where I would prefer to be. I must be content where I am in this moment even though I see trees outside my window still barren of leaves. I see the frozen tips of bulbs that had attempted to emerge, only to be viciously bitten by the frost.

I know I have no right to complain. Complaint is one of our human failings. Grumbling about a situation only gives it more power to deepen our suffering. As I brace for yet another snow storm, I remind myself of all that I have to be thankful for – a roof over my head, warm home and warm clothing, food in my pantry, and toilet paper. We must all find ways to channel the hindrances to our lives over which we have no control, into something meaningful. Today I will continue to immerse myself in the planning of my garden and in cleaning. I will continue to ensure that the bird feeders are full and the birdbath remains unfrozen. I will sow more seeds in pots, indoors. I will take advantage of my forced isolation to read and learn. The hours will pass, as they always do, and the days and the weeks and the months. I can choose acceptance of what is and know that the situation will eventually change. Many of us may feel alone and isolated at this time, but we are all in this together.

Is our government deceiving us? Paranoia is born out of fear and distrust; but sticking our heads in the sand can be just as threatening to our wellbeing. I am not one to latch onto fear. I have never been a conspiracy theorist. I have; however, been suspicious about this pandemic from the beginning. I have simply watched and observed the situation, as I do with most things in this world. Since I have observed how Big Pharma and the Medical Machine have continued to grow in their power, it was not difficult to recognize some obvious facts. We all know that hospitals over charge and that some prescription drugs can bankrupt a person. As more people began waking up and turning to natural cures and alternative modalities, and as patients are spending less time in the hospitals, the hospitals have begun to struggle financially. Along with the food industry, their goal is to keep making people sick so that they feel powerless and require the services and the drugs of the medical entities. They have succeeded in forcing parents to immunize their children and they have blindsided the masses into believing they need a doctor to tell them whether or not they are healthy, rather than listening to their own bodies.

When they began to talk about the tests for COVID-19, I wondered just how reliable the tests actually were. Many, many medical tests have indicated false positives. Are they simply assuming now that whenever a person displays flu-like symptoms, that it is COVID-19? Most of the vaccinations that have been created work only about half of the time and quite often, and not surprisingly, a person becomes ill from the very vaccination that has been injected into them. The hospitals are once again making money hand over fist, with the thousands of people supposedly succumbing to the virus. The making of ventilators appears to be as lucrative as the making of arms for the military. Assuredly, they will soon have a vaccine to use against Coronavirus, which will prove to be as ineffective as all the rest. Still, they are making money and I strongly suspect they will try to make it mandatory for every citizen to be injected with whatever poison they concoct.

While my own suspicions have been peaked, I have discovered that I am not the only one who feels that there is something very malicious being carried out behind closed doors of the rich and powerful, that will blight our world and take possession of our freedoms. We have been warned to be wary of the fake news. Large corporate interest groups believe the general public to be stupid. They believe that we can be easily deceived through our televisions and other media; but we are smarter than they think. There have been some messages going around that have become viral. I was sent one yesterday which was an interview with a Dr. Shiva: https://youtu.be/GmD3EoSRgsI. There are others who sense the wrong that is being done. Throughout history wherever people have been oppressed there has been an underground network of resistance; of people who risked their lives to protect their families and their freedoms. I highly suspect that this may be the biggest deception ever pulled off in human history. Are we going to allow ourselves to be deceived – or will we become the resistance?

Road rage has become a common behavior in the modern age and if we have not personally encountered it, we have seen it played out on news stories. What would Henry Ford say now? Would he still believe that he had contributed something for the overall good of humankind?

Would Alexander Graham Bell be astonished at our modern forms of communication that require no eye contact and therefore; no incentive to tell the truth? The means of communication has evolved from telephone conversations, to emails, to text messaging and for those who desire face to face contact; we have Skype and other video chat programs. Emailing and texting may have come about in response to the extreme annoyance we feel when having to make a call to a large business entity. “Please listen carefully as our menu options have changed…press 1 for…, press 2 for …, press 3 for … and so on; or I’m sorry…” You pressed the wrong number and you have to start all over again, or you reach a recording telling you your wait time is 40 minutes, or you reach a voice mail and the person you need to speak with is out of the office. When you finally reach a real person you are told that she cannot help you, so you are given a new number with a whole new set of options. Who has not encountered a similar scenario on at least one occasion? How many phones have been slammed against the wall, angry bursts of expletives ringing in the ears of those nearby? The only reason we don’t hear about phone rage, is that there are few others around to witness it. Of course, prior to talking to a real person, you will hear, “This call may be recorded.”

The internet is not without its own frustrations. High speed internet has replaced the slow, dial-up connections of twenty years ago, but anytime that you think you are going to do one quick thing, three hours later, if you have not solved the unexpected glitch you ran into, you will simply walk away from your computer. Then there are the numerous passwords and new means by which we can thwart hackers, which often require updating, changing passwords, etc. They call this the age of communication, but it is shallow, at best. Sometimes, I long for the old times when people could simply sit down and have a conversation or write a long, heartfelt letter to a friend – long before the craziness and the rage became normal.