Saturday, July 25, 2015

Sisters Circling in the Sacred Meadows

A Vista in Oregon
by Stephie Bigheart

Beyond the mountains, and more mountains,

up over the high desert plains, we begin our journey.

Out through the gate, along an unknown pathway,

past the cow pastures and hay fields,

out to the Lighted Tipis and Juniper trees,

at the entrance of The Sacred Meadows,

we are greeted by The Wolf Lady,

The Wise Woman, The Magician,

The Nurturing Mother, The Pioneer,

The Sacred Healer. And she smiles her humble smile,

as she waves an Eagle feather around you,

front and back, clearing and cleansing old energy

and creating space for new, and her voice begins with,

"Eagle welcomes You!"

"Aho!", w
e say,

and we enter the sacred meadows

joining the circle of sisters.

Around the fire, I see in her eyes sadness and pain,

from long ago, that still remains.

Sparks in the flames ignites and heals our hearts,

our ideas fostered and planted,

our faith built up,

our fear broken down, expelled.

Our tears composted into the Earth.

Sweat drips from our burning rage,

and drums drum up, fast beating hearts.

So we pace our breaths and measure our steps,

remembering our past and our future.

A glance, a flicker of light rose, and at just the right moment,

a Sacred Clarity shared between me and The Medicine Woman!

On the darkest night, air as cold as ice crystals,

I awake to the soft hooting of Owl, as if she were so close by,

worried about my low pitched labored breathing,

sounds I make while sleeping.

And I remember my mother's words:

It's always darkest before the dawn.

We rose that day full of love,

our lips sealed with a kiss.

And up high above us soaring in the big blue sky is Eagle.

Out through the sacred circle of women,

out through The Sacred Meadows,

and back out through the gate we sing our sacred song.

We turn along a new pathway, a never ending,

long and winding road.

There we are greeted by the New Moon.

And so it is.

We are on a new journey, sisters singing a new song.


I wrote this poem after I journeyed out to the pacific west to a retreat hosted by Pixie Lighthorse. This retreat will crack open your heart and heal you and ground you and draw you close to Mother Earth and Father Sky and fill your heart up with so much love. I say, go, if you are ready for the adventure of your life. I am so happy I journeyed to be there for the very first SouLodge Fire Circle, and where I had one of the most endearing heart connections I have ever had with a sister. May the journeys begin. Aho!

Tuesday, June 16, 2015

The Three Headed Dragon Meets The Loch Ness Monster

Kure Beach, North Carolina
by Stephie Bigheart

I escaped.

Leaving my mother's was like flying out of the fiery pit. And, I headed to the deep watery sea.

Living at my mother's, I've been gasping for breath. Breathing fresh air, aka oxygen, is a precious commodity, at my Mom's — one in which I know everyone needs. So, I made one of the hardest decisions, if not THE hardest decision.

Mom was lying on her sofa, adrift in sleep, even though it was already late morning. I started to walk out without an official goodbye, or without an embrace, but I stopped, turned, and walked over to her, touched her forehead, caressed her hair, and said, "Mommy, I am leaving."

She looked up out of her loose sleep she's been dealing with, as of late, and her eyes looked so lost and searching, and she asked, "Why?"

"Mommy, I have to go to my doctor's appointment, in North Carolina," I replied, softly.

She registered this way back, deep in her heart and soul, and her face relaxed into a soft, compassionate nod, an understanding only a mother knows about her daughter's needs, over her own, almost like she's come to terms with both of our choices we've been battling our hearts and minds and grieving over, the past few decades.

I need a clean place to breathe. That was the final, and only, reason, in leaving my mom, this time.

We had tried to get approved for several apartments in Huntington, and we had gotten approved for one we were going to move into with our mom and help her from Huntington, but we all couldn't agree on this decision. Then, we got turned down at the last apartment, close to our mom's, where Kim and I were going to share together, so we'd be able to help her more 'round the clock.

But, instead of waiting it out at the hotel there in Huntington, we decided to come where the person we've rented from before has given us another chance. He rented us an apartment in the same hour we met up with him. They've also been godsends.

We really want to bring mom here, where she can be near us and we can help her 24/7.

I don't know if Mom's resigned to staying there in her apartment, but we've asked her, and begged her, to come here with us. And she wouldn't have to give up her apartment, right away, but we've promised her we would take care of her, here, if she'd come with us.

We all can't live in her small one bedroom apartment, especially with the cats. And all my team of doctors are well aware of my condition here: They specialize in handling cases like mine. They do more studies about my physical heart and lungs. They are more equipped to take care of me.

On the trip here, we didn't know for sure if our former landlord would rent us another apartment, but after we made it to the Raleigh / Durham area, and had gone to the hotel where I had reserved an extended stay type of room, for 60-90 days or more, I decided to just come on to the ocean, here, and take a chance.

An encounter, with the night manager, at the hotel, where I had the room reserved, helped bring clarity to this decision.

Kim and I walked into the lobby of the hotel. We didn't see anyone at the front desk, at first, but we stood there a few seconds, and out of the right side of my sight a movement began. A slow moving, shifting lady began her way from behind the counter where she had been sitting, and slowly moved towards the front desk. Meeting this woman was as if we had witnessed a resurrection of a behemoth mammal from the prehistoric age, sort of resembling the depiction of The Loch Ness Monster. She moved slowly, steadily, but surely. I wondered how much more of her would be coming around the corner, because of her massive, heavy size.

Seeing her struck me to my heart, and it brought to mind Eckhart Tolle's theory of pain bodies. This woman, in a sense, reflected and mirrored my massive, heavy heart, my pain body.

I don't know if seeing her made me run away, but when my sister and I went to add some additional funds onto a credit card, so that we wouldn't be charged a fee for paying in cash, on top of the hotel charges, we had a moment to breathe and think.

I told Kim I felt that it was a divine encounter meeting this woman, and that I had felt her massive weight and struggles and pain.

Kim promptly responded back to me, "Don't carry her weight. Don't take it on, Stephie! Stop carrying the weight of everyone. Stop carrying the weight of the world."

Kim's truth took me by surprise, but her truth hit my soul and heart through, like a dart hitting the bull's eye.

I got it.

We went back to the hotel, but because the room was not the room we had reserved over the phone, and because there was no other room available, she allowed us to cancel it without a problem.

The next morning, after a good night's rest at another hotel (where we paid for only one night) we saw clearly what we need to do: Get somewhere, besides a hotel, where at any point we could walk out, and get somewhere we can get stable, and breathe.

We three have tried to live and survive as The Three Headed Dragon, but it has been killing us.

I am not abandoning my mother. I am not bailing out of my responsibilities towards my mother. I am not jumping ship. I love my mother. I love her so much. But, I can no longer be the tug boat of this great ship, trying to bring it to shore. I need everyone to know my limits: physical, spiritual, emotional, and psychological, not to mention financial.

I am completely spent. I am at my wit's end.

Mom has choices. She's made choices in her interest.

And I have to do the same. I am making better choices for myself.

Mom gave me my first breath. And I give myself breath.

Yes. I choose life.

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Clarity, at Serendipity

Nags Head, North Carolina

by Stephie Bigheart

What are you holding on to? What keeps you from letting go? Is it the sound of a familiar voice that awakens your voice? Is it that you feel you can't let go, afraid you'll forget hers, afraid you'll lose yours?

When you're ready to let go of the tightness in your chest, the grip around your heart, the big lump in your throat, you'll realize how the holding on has kept you, and only you, from Freedom.

Open your palms from its grip. Sense the blood returning, flowing out and back in, again and again.

Remember the roaring ocean that week at Serendipity? You'd lie there at night in the softness of the light of the moon, listening to its deep watery waves rushing back and forth, pulsating to and from its shore.

The clarity of knowing she is still there.

Oceans and moons are held by an axis, an unseen force, but they are never in the same place at any given moment.

They learned long ago this wisdom:
There's no need in holding on to permanence.

I assure you, you'll recognize her voice and you'll find yours in the instance of letting go.

The clarity of knowing you are still here.