Morning Coffee – Archetypal Patterns

Cafe_ViennoisTime for a warm, frothy cup. There is a chill in the air this morning, and the heat of the coffee in my cup warms my fingers.   I was speaking with someone yesterday, scheduling an appointment. In the course of the conversation, the person said: ‘But aren’t you going to be spending Wednesday (the day before Thanksgiving) cooking for everyone?’

I replied that my family was on the West Coast, so no, I would not be busy at the stove that day, and then finished our conversation.

When I woke up this morning, I found myself still thinking about this exchange. Archetypal patterns are created and sustained by the mass consciousness. This one is a relatively new one, I suspect, as Thanksgiving is a ‘holiday’ that is only a couple of centuries old. Do old archetypal patterns just fade away, to be replaced with the new ones, or are they layered one on top of the other? That is the question I will be pondering today.

As humans, our lives are influenced by these patterns whether we realize it or not. When we dream, we work with these patterns. We live our lives according to these patterns. Are you a hero? A goddess? A poet or mystic? A victim or a visionary? All of these are archetypal patterns, expressed in how we choose to live our lives, and manifesting in various ways in our dreams.

How can we change our world? By actively working with the archetypal patterns that form the matrix of our collective consciousness. The archetypes cannot change, but as humans, we can. The archetypes are dependent upon us to do the work to bring new patterns of awareness to the collective. If it is so easy to create a new pattern such as the one that manifested in the conversation with this person, then we can create a new world for ourselves. First step: becoming conscious that we have this ability.

Cup’s empty, so that’s the end of my random ramblings for today. Thanks for stopping by.

Jung was absolutely right. We are occupied by gods.                               ~Michael Ondaatj

All original material posted to this site (c)2015, Julia Marie. All rights reserved.

Morning Coffee – What If…

EinspaennerI’m feeling like a frothy, foamy, layered cup of cool coffee on this early summer morning. No, really. I am feeling like a layered cup of coffee today. I came here intending to write some more about my adventures with crow and bear, and find myself wondering “what if…”

Since I am a creature who follows the energy in the moment, I guess it’s a ‘cup’ today, and more of the story next time.

People on the spiritual path speak about how we are all connected, and yet walk around with their faces glued to their phones or other mobile devices. How is this connecting to anything except the electronic ‘web’? I do want to point out here that a web is something designed to ensnare something that will become something else’ dinner.

I for one do not intend to be food for another consciousness. To that end, I have dramatically scaled back my internet interaction.

I will admit, there is a part of me that feels I am missing out, but am I, really?

So now the question du jour: “What if?” What will the world do if the plug gets pulled and there is no more net? How will we entertain ourselves? Maybe all this shamanic journeying has gotten me thinking about the basics.

220px-Caveman_5I keep having flashes of people gathered around a fire, maybe inside a cave or a small shelter. It is deep night, and people are feeling the need to seek the comfort of others like themselves. They are feeling the need to be in community with one another, to interact with each other. It helps them get through the night, to celebrate making it through another day.

The most popular person in the circle is the Story Teller. Through the magic of story-telling, the darkness recedes. Imagination sparks, and the night doesn’t seem so long, so dark, so foreboding. Lessons are woven into the story, and the more vibrant the characters, the more popular the story-teller.

So. What if the lights went out tomorrow? What would you do to help others make it through the long, dark nights? Can you tell a good story? Maybe spend some of that time online learning some good ones. You never know when you might need them.

Cup’s empty. Thanks for spending some time here.

All original material posted to this site is (c)2014, Julie Marie. All rights reserved.

Photo credit: Wikipedia

Morning Coffee – It’s Story Time

I am in a story telling mood today, and perhaps that’s because I spent a week in the presence of someone who loves a good story. As an aside, I learned much about how to tell a better story. I have a lot of work to do. Hopefully, one cup of coffee will take you through this tale from my early days.

A Crow Funeral

I was reminded of this experience last week when crow and raven were so prevalent in the room during the workshop, so I thought I’d tell you about the first time I ever heard words from an animal. Add to this the sad fact the animal’s body was no longer breathing.

When I was first awakened, the things I experienced freaked me out some times. This was definitely one of those times, because I didn’t have the consciousness to perceive the wonder and beauty of what I encountered. That came later.

CrowbywaterI walked the same route to the Post Office every day. It gave me exercise, and some time outdoors to breathe fresh air, to feel the sun on my face, to smell the scents on the wind (although most times, that was car exhaust). This day, I noticed a crow lying dead by the curb in the gutter. I glanced over, and was startled when I clearly heard the words : “Pick me up.”

“EEEwwwwwww!” was my immediate response, then the thought came that I had just responded to a dead crow. I kept on walking, and ignored the pleas I heard on the return trip.

The next day, the crow was still there. I thought that by now, a cat or some other scavenger would have carried it off. No such luck. I now understand that it was for purpose that the crow’s body was still there, that something greater than ordinary consciousness was in play here. Again, I heard the crow (still dead, mind you) beseeching me to pick it up from the gutter. I heard additional reasons why I needed to take action: “I do not want to continue to lie here in the gutter. Please don’t leave me here in disgrace like a piece of refuse. I deserve a proper burial.”

I was all in at this point. What the heck, I was hearing a dead crow speak. Might as well answer. I mentally told the crow (still dead) that if it was still there in the morning (which would be the morning of the third day), I would do something about its plight.

The morning of the third day came. I walked to the Post Office. The crow was still there, and I swear I could feel a strong sense of “waiting” energy. Silence. No words in my head as I walked by. But I had made a promise, despite the fact that I’d made it to a dead crow. I do my best to keep my word.

I went back to the house after I picked up the mail and fetched some plastic bags and rubber gloves. I also located my collapsible shovel because there was no way I was just going to throw the crow in the trash. I now have the overwhelming impulse to give this crow a proper burial, and that would require digging a hole in my back yard somewhere.

crowsonabranchI gently placed the remains of the crow into the bag, and carried the body to my back yard. I figured at this point I might as well ask where it would like to be buried. I was totally surprised when it immediately responded by pointing my attention to a specific spot that would get both sun and shade throughout the day.

I dug the hole there, and rolled the body from the plastic bag into the waiting earth. I declare, I heard a sigh from this deceased crow as the body made contact with the dirt. And then I heard the most extraordinary thing. This crow told me I could take any part of its body as a gift for this act of kindness.

My immediate response was: “EEEwwwww! No, you keep it all.”

I didn’t know what an honor this was. I refused the gift.  No, you keep all your parts,  I thought. As I covered the bird up, blanketing the body with the earth I’d removed to make room for the crow, I suddenly became aware of a rustling, and some soft cawing from above and behind me. There were trees in my back yard. With the awareness came the sensation of a rush of goose bumps. (I didn’t recognize it as “Truth bumps” at the time, but now understand that is what they were.)

crowsinthetreesSlowly, I turned. Another wave of intense energy rolled through me as I gazed upon hundreds of crows gathered in the trees, like blue-black baubles amidst the verdant green of the leaves. It took my breath away, and I knew in that moment I was participating in a crow funeral. Literally. All these Crow Relations had come to say good-bye to their brother, their friend.

Weird, but I could feel their collective appreciation for the simple act I’d performed. I also had the sense I carried crow medicine now, despite my refusal to take any physical parts from the bird I’d buried.

It was many years later, and in a different state entirely, before I finally accepted the gift of Crow Medicine from the Crow Nation. But that is a story for another day.

Time to get busy. Now go out and have a wonder-filled day. I know I will.

All original material posted to this site is (c)2014, Julie Marie. All rights reserved.

Morning Coffee – A Writing Burst is Coming

EinspaennerI know it has been quiet here for some time. I’m still deliberating whether or not I need to just shut this down. The answer from the Universe is obviously “Not yet…”

I recently endured one of the most perplexing and intense weeks I’ve had in a while, which means there is much insight for me to harvest there. It comes best when I write it out, or talk it over. This time, I choose to write it out, so you who still visit here will be the beneficiaries of that endeavor. Lucky you. There are insights here, I can feel it. I just don’t know (yet) what they are.

I will now employ a well-used technique to get you to come back to read all about it: there were great Mother Bears, and huge snakes. Crow and raven flew. Ancient wounds were re-opened, and an old story played itself out on a modern stage. The ultimate result was different this time, however. We will dance between ancient and modern times, so you will have to remain on your toes. I will do my best to keep the players and the timelines straight.

This is an epic tale, a mythic one, with many nuanced twists and turns. There is intrigue, there are struggles for power, and there is the proverbial Tipping Point. Hopefully, in the telling and sharing, you will find grist for your spiritual mill, something to contemplate and perhaps even something to apply to your own life. We must use all the tools available to us. It is time. With this tale, I call you to Stand.

For now, I will leave you with this: there are always gifts and blessings in any experience. We just need to stay focused and look for them.

For now, the coffee cup’s empty, and I have much to do this day. Thanks for sitting with me for a while.

All original material posted to this site is (c)2014, Julie Marie. All rights reserved.

Photo credit: Wikipedia


Morning Coffee – Spirit’s Answer


A display of old televisions, VCRs and radios ...

Watching television is like taking black spray paint to your third eye.

~Bill Hicks

I had been wondering why the pull was so strong to wean myself off of televised companionship, and Spirit’s answer was this quote I “coincidentally” stumbled upon.(the word ‘coincidentally’ is in quotes because my perspective is that there is no such thing as coincidence). I am also being pushed to begin cutting off the electronic ties as well. How I will manage that, I am not sure yet, but will begin the disconnect this Spring.  Goodbye, email. Hello, post office.

All original material posted to this site is (c) 2014, Julie Marie. All rights reserved.

Photo credit: Wikipedia