As I was walking down the road from checking in a guest today, I spied the glimmer of bright red mixed in amongst the greenery….and sure enough upon closer inspection I saw the first of the ripe wild raspberries!  Oh my heart gave a quick leap, but may have been second to my outstretched hands as they plucked sweet, juicy tidbits and stuffed them in my mouth.  Visions of fresh wild raspberry on my cereal and in my dinner salads entered my mind; what didn’t enter was the fact that I was in a tank top, shorts and crocks or at least it wasn’t until I was waist deep into brambles did that fact catch up with my brain to override my quest for the really plump ones just a couple steps further in.

Foraging will begin again tomorrow albeit with long pants and sleeves properly adorned.

Jana

I have 4 large windows in front of me at my desk.  On one of them, something with wings – not sure what it is, clung to the window, clawing at the glass, obviously wanting its freedom.  So I opened the window [it opens vertically], giving that little creature all the freedom of the entire outdoors.  He remains clinging to the window even tho it is open.   I’ve been watching it for 15 minutes now.  He seems afraid to let go of the window and fly away.

I think that is how we are sometimes.  We want the freedom to create and live our vision of what we desire and yet, when the opportunity presents itself, there we remain, clinging to our past and current lives, not even aware that the window is open and all we have to do is let go of what we know, and fly into our freedom.

This morning before I meditated, I was reading in Alan Cohen’s Handle with Prayer the following:

“You will get as much as you ask for.  Ask for all that you want.  Many of us are too well adjusted – we adjust our request to what we expect, rather than daring the universe (and ourselves) to match our vision.  If you aim low on the pyramid, you can’t miss the target – but you do miss the view from the peak.”

So my friend is still sticking to the window.  Shall I help him find out he is free???? And what about me?

Chris Rosenthal

That’s when it hits you.  You can’t get back there from here.  You will never get those moments back again…sorry Dorothy, but you can’t just go back home and find everything just like it was before you were sucked up into the tornado that we know as ‘Life’.

Why is it that we don’t feel our mortality when we’re 20 or 30…even 40?  A good dose of your own mortality keeps a healthy perspective on why it’s not a good idea to just call when you get more time, etc.  Maybe that sense that we have when we’re young and immortal, that it’s ok to live on the edge would be lost or maybe we wouldn’t get as much done, be as productive stopping to smell the roses all the time….we’re supposed to ‘get it and growl’ when we’re young so we can enjoy the fruits of our labor when we reach this ‘certain age’.

Here’s what I do know…having just turned a ‘certain age’, I find myself doing a quick check up from the neck up when I hear myself say “I’ll do it tomorrow when I have more time”.

Go ahead and stop to smell the roses, make the calls, take the trips, stay connected….none of us are immortal regardless of our age.

Jana

When we first purchased the property in December ’02, I was up here alone living full time in what we now refer to as the ‘Mountain Chalet’.  Being a Florida native, the only time I saw large quantities of snow was on the occasions when I’d get somewhere for a few days to “snow ski”…and I use that term loosely because you can’t do that activity a few days out of  the year and not really and more accurately term it “snow careening”!  I remember the thrill I’d feel looking out seeing the snow falling and hurriedly I eat breakfast so I could go out and play in it.  Boogie, the wonder dog, and I would get dressed (he had his own boots and winter coat of course) and go out snow shoeing on the trails.  Boogie would run, leaping in and out of the deep snow, which at times would be chest deep on him, plunging his nose down in it to get a better whiff of whatever animal scent he’d picked up.  Boogie was a chocolate lab and was never happier than when he was following the nose and never funnier than when he’d pull it out with snow all over his face, whiskers frozen and look at me like he’d just won the best doggie prize ever!

Built as a respite and art studio for the previous owner, the Mountain Chalet was already here when Chris and I bought the property. It has an open sleeping loft,  huge skylights up above and floor to ceiling windows on all sides.  No matter where you stand you can look out and literally get the feeling you are outdoors.  I’ll never forget the night I awoke to what seemed like alot of light for middle of the night….in fact, it seemed like somehow the whole house was lit up.  Half asleep I presumed I had left lights on.  It was so bright I didn’t need light to head downstairs to see.  The minute I set foot downstairs, the light flooded in but there were no house lights on at all….groggy,  I deduced it must be a full moon out.   I remember questioning that logic, because it was so bright in the house.  But, as I stood and turned, looking from window to window, wall to wall of glass, sky light to sky light overhead….I knew I wasn’t wrong.  The moon appeared directly over the meadow in front of the chalet.  It was the brightest, fullest moon I think I’ve ever seen and the light was being made even brighter as it bounced off the snow out there.  I ran to the front door, slipped on my boots, put a jacket over my PJ’s and out I went onto the deck.   I wish I’d had night time photography available so I could have captured it in a way that everyone would be able to see what I saw that night.  I wish I could do justice in describing what I saw , but I don’t think I possess the ability to come close with mere words….here’s as close as I can get; The night sky was a dark, black backdrop, not a cloud to be seen. Stars and the Milky Way were so close it felt like you could reach up and touch them and there were a bazillion of them.  The moon was huge and hung low right over the two acre meadow out front.  Rays of light shone down on the snow and the entire meadow sparkled like millions of diamonds scattered on the ground.  I ran off the porch, out into the meadow and stood with my arms outstretched, reaching up feeling like the moon beams were flowing in through my finger tips and I swear I had a sensation of energy surging into my body.  I have seen many full moons, in many locations…but I have never seen nor experienced one like I did that night.  It was a magical event, something someone may only have the opportunity to experience once in a lifetime. The moon beams etching the moment into my memory banks forever.

Boogie is no longer with us.  He is laid to rest in this very meadow and every once in a while when the moon is full and I catch it hanging over like it did that night, I imagine I can see him bounding through the snow, looking back at me saying “Hey Mom, remember that night when I chased moon beams for you  in the snow?”

So, perhaps it is easy to understand why Winter…to me at least….is a very special time to be at Harmony Hill.  When the snowman cometh I know from a very personal experience that extraordinary things, magical things are possible here.

Jana

At least this was what I was thinking as I walked down our half mile long driveway to drop off mail.  Suddenly I stopped…right in the middle of the road and stared down at the ground covered in orange, red, browns and yellows, and began to ponder this thought in more detail.  For sure, each season has a distinct obligation, a practiced response if you will, in announcing itself for the benefit of us poor, dense humans.  For the barely aware, we assume this is,  for the most part,  played out on a visual level.  We know, for example, that when we see snow it is Winter; when we see colorful leaves it is Fall; when we see buds on the trees it is Spring and when we see the growth of Earth’s bounty, basking in the bright warmth of the sun that it is Summer.

Surrounded by Nature as I was, I made an additional mental leap …surely Nature would have been elevated to a much greater task than just a visual display for the benefit of mortals with low awareness levels?

The Universe [my opinion] is a great contingency planner, so it stands to reason that Nature would be in accord with the Master Design Plan….to not only mark the transition of man’s path through time with the ebbing and flowing of seasons but, and here’s the great part, to deploy this in such a way that this passage of time would be identifiable and verifiable by said mere mortals on every level bestowed them!  Clever Universe…it would never assume that one’s eyes alone would always be available to translate to the brain that one season had begun as one ended.

So, I closed my eyes and the first level of awareness to kick in was smell.  I could smell the crispness in the air, the slight odor of leaves as they began to decay. I could smell the earthy, yet fragrant smell that only Autumn has.  Opening my eyes, I reached up to catch a falling leaf and felt it in my hand noticing how it was crisp and crunchy.  I now possessed an acknowledgment on three levels of awareness instead of just the one.

Stop for a moment and think of the different acknowledgments Nature gives to herald each passing and arriving season….this is exactly what I did.  I stood there and realized that Nature doesn’t care if we’re visually impaired, have no sense of smell or taste and could care less if we can feel with our fingers or toes…the only way a human could miss Nature’s seasonal clues is if your body were no longer in proximity to what was happening around you.

I had two other levels of awareness with which to experience this fabulous Fall of 2009, so I walked briskly back to my yurt. I poured and savored the flavor of fresh pressed apple cider as I tasted Fall and then I listened to the sound of leaves falling like rain on the yurt roof ….and I knew I was experiencing my last available level of awareness…the Leaves are Leaving….it is clearly, at all levels, Fall.

Jana

I bring this up for a good reason, because of a personal experience that caused this reality to hit home today. Recently, I have struggled with clarity about my role as it pertains to a business venture I’m involved in outside of Harmony Hill. Without going into the gory details, suffice it to say I have been left feeling like I was falling short, my personal capabilities inadequate for the task. I found I was frustrated over not being able to think of exactly what I could do to be the change agent in this business venture that I desired to be.

Being a long time student of the teachings of Abraham by Esther and Jerry Hicks, I knew my strong focus on really wanting to contribute was shooting off “rockets of desire” and so it was no surprise to me when one day, about  two weeks ago, I received clarity.  Clearly I could not alter my education nor my personal expertise , at least not in a timely manner….but here’s the ‘aha’… the Law of Attraction and my belief in those Universal Laws were always within my power to access….no formal training required!  Just like the Noetic Science in Dan Brown’s, “The Lost Symbol”;  “mind over matter”, “ask and you will receive” …”focus and create”.  Excited,  I realized I could make it my ‘job’ to visualize and create. By focusing my intention,  I could literally manifest the people, situations and events that we needed to succeed!  I started work at my new job immediately. I sat inside and meditated. I sat outside and meditated. I tried with great intention but something about my ‘work’ environment felt missing.

What does my ineptitude and epiphany have to do with cobblers and children with no shoes?  I simply realized this….I live at a retreat center. I have 70 acres in some of the most beautiful country I’ve ever known at my disposal. I personally conjured up and created, on this land, a space we call “Whimsical Meditation”.  With it’s open air gazebo lined with fanciful wind chimes and woodland creatures, it sits like a gem tucked into the woods. And, as the woods open out onto the adjoining meadow it has the most gorgeous vista…one that has always reminded me of a backdrop for the Sound of Music. It is a magical place. It is a reflective place. It is a metaphorical ‘work place’  for all who seek a canvas in the mind on which to create….and here’s the point in fact… Until today, I had never personally sat there.   I envisioned it, I helped to physically create it but sadly until today, I had never taken the time to make myself a pair of shoes.

Carpe Diem…Carpe  Calciatus,

Jana

When you’re on 70 acres in a rural country setting, it kind of feels like being in your own private state park [or retreat as this case may be].  You begin to feel the peace and quiet deep in your bones.  You notice after awhile that the strangeness you couldn’t put your finger on may have been the fact that you haven’t heard one single police car or fire truck, sirens blaring down your street.  Instead, the stillness of the night gets its competition from owls hooting, peepers peeping, frogs croaking…you get the picture. Hustle & bustle is replaced with the BusiNess of Nature.  Traffic noise is replaced by the wind blowing through the trees creating a sequence of activity followed by stillness …a stillness and serenity of energy unlike any other, it’s absence noticeable and amplified when you leave it.  Contrast at its best.

“The City”….bright lights, big city. That’s what people who visit Harmony Hill from “The City” seek respite from.  Whether you’re from NYC or another big city [although The Big Apple is the mac-daddy of them all] sometimes it takes such contrast to be reminded that we basically live in a container.  I’ll use my country analogy…you are the flower and where you live is your container.  How well your flower grows depends largely on your container; how much sunlight do you get? Are you getting too little or too much water? What kind of nutrients are you getting?….and hands down … is your Human ‘flower’ happy in it’s container’s environment?

Sometimes we’re fortunate and we can pick up our container and move it from Florida to Upstate New York.  Sometimes we’re lucky just to have the opportunity to experience great contrast.  When we are, we are allowed a sneak peak at transitional contrast…the contrast between the echoes of the past and the peacefullness of now, this is the present.

It’s not where your container resides, it’s how well you take care of the container while it’s there.  It doesn’t matter if the contrasting view is seagulls or chickadees or both….human flowers turn toward contrast like plants turn toward sun…that’s why God/The Divine/The Universe/The One gives us so many chances to experience and create it.

Jana

My wooden deck features a comfy chair and table set and about ten feet away attached to the rail is the bird feeder.  Just beyond the feeder is a small sapling tree that the birds can use to hop back and forth as they help themselves to the food.  Watching all the different types of birds come by for their morning meal is a cherished moment…one that sometimes conflicts with my desire to sip from my coffee cup.  If I lift my cup to drink, the birds take flight.   And while they come back, it always feels like the moment has been spoiled somehow.  Was that sip of java worth the disturbance of my viewing pleasure!

But today was different.  I knew this again when I glanced up in the sapling and saw a lone brown sparrow sitting on a branch.  I’d lift my cup, the others would take flight.  This little brown bird just sat.  It was puffed up like birds do when they are defending against the cold…it wasn’t cold.  I wondered, “Do female birds look like tennis balls when they’re ready to lay eggs”…I had no idea.  The phone ringing broke my contemplation of pregnant birds and I ran inside to answer.  As I was talking, I looked out the yurt window to see that my little brown friend had hopped onto the wooden deck railing.  I could see clearly now just how puffed up it was, so poufy that I couldn’t see its feet…is there such a thing as bird obesity?  Had this visitor been to the feeder one too many times?  I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bird with a body like that.

As I’m talking on the phone, I look out and see my friend has hopped onto the deck…still just sitting there.  I knew this was not right.  The others flitted around, would get spooked and take flight…this little brown puff just sat.  I was talking with Chris and she said…”send it Reiki”.

I broke off my conversation, walked outside and crept slowly closer and closer to the sparrow.  It had its eyes closed like it was sleeping and seemed to be breathing heavily.  Finally, close enough to touch it I began to lightly stroke its head and back…the brown puff made a few attempts to peck then seemed to just relax and enjoy my touch.  I knew it was really sick.  Did it fly into a window somewhere and get dazed?  Was it a migrating bird who got exhausted on its journey?  I picked it up, wings fluttering and hopping a bit, I didn’t think anything was broken, but it definitely wasn’t well.

I gently put the bird down, went back inside to grab a small basket and a hand towel to pad inside.  I retrieved my small friend, placing it in the basket.  At first it hopped onto the edge, then back onto the deck…then it quit trying and stayed inside…I think it realized it had found a safe haven.  I continued to send the creature Reiki, not knowing what else I could do.  I put seeds in the basket thinking it might eat.  It wouldn’t.  I got an eye dropper and put water in its beak thinking it might drink.  it would not.  I sensed the bird’s distress as it started fluttering its wings to no avail as it didn’t have the strength to even keep itself upright.  My last ditch effort was only a thought of comfort.  I gently picked it up out of the basket, held it in the palm of my hand and stroked it on its little chest.  I could feel the bird’s fragile rib bones.  Then almost as quickly as a wing’s flutter, it closed its eyes and went perfectly still in my hand.  I looked at the small bird and wonderment came over me…the body was perfect in size and shape.  It no longer looked puffed and bloated.  It was beautiful and at peace.  Had he/she come to die? Was it my role within this Universe to help one of its creatures transition in peace? I don’t need to know the answers to those questions…but one thing I do know for sure…there would never have been questions at all if I had started my day and not listened to my inner voice telling me “let’s just sit outside today?”

Jana

Fast forward to now where I have somewhat returned to my roots.  I have forgotten the mall and chosen a life in rural Upstate NY.  As I was driving along the back country roads the other day, I was drifting in thought when it came to me that something was different about the countryside.  There was something my eye was picking up but my brain couldn’t quite make the connection as to what it was …then it hit me.  Field after field had been hayed. Where once there had been tall flowing, tasseled hay there were now beautiful clumps of timothy, alfalfa and clover strewn up and down the hillsides. It hit me like a lead balloon….they were making hay while the sun shines! I chuckled at the childhood memories that flooded back simultaneously.

Most of the East Coast and certainly our slice of Upstate Heaven has been inundated with rain this season.  Early in the season, I believe it was May, we had about a week of unusually warm weather.  Enough warmth that the farmers got in an early haying and they were all very happy and anticipatory that it was going to be a bountiful year.  This, of course, turned out to be a glimpse of something we wouldn’t see again until now…. in August at almost the end of the season.

If you’re not a farmer you’re probably like me and you don’t think much of too much rain.  Only an annoyance because we can’t get out as much, or our small gardens are stunted from too much rain, or our roads are a mess, or any number of little things that don’t really make a whole lot of difference when placed up against a bigger picture.

Farmers definitely look at it differently.  Only one haying in by August means they have been to the bank for operating money about as many times as they could go.  One haying means their livestock didn’t have the silage they needed and feed costs got deducted from an already shrinking profit margin.  One haying meant there was nothing to sell to help pay the bills and one haying meant they had to sell their cows because they couldn’t afford to feed them.  One farmer who was looking for his lost dog stopped by our place and told us the last time he took his cows to the market he had to PAY to sell them….now he was giving them away.  He wondered what he was going to do? He had been dairy farming his entire life…he didn’t know how to do anything else.

It wasn’t until I moved up here that I really became aware of the precarious lifestyle the dedicated people, like my brother-in-law, who supply the bounty we find on our grocery store shelves have chosen for themselves.  They don’t whine or feel sorry for themselves…they can’t imagine doing anything else.  I think what they would really like is the respect they deserve for being the selfless stewards of the land and lords over our dinner tables that they are.

So, the moral of this story?  THANK  A FARMER TODAY…your next meal depends on it!

Jana

Spring is a time of renewal, life coming forth and new beginnings. The buds are bursting forth on the red maples making the hillside look like a mini fall. Rolling meadows are bright spring green against the backdrop of the mountainside that changes color going from brown to green.

Just before sundown here at The Hill, our wildlife begin celebrating & sharing with one another what a glorious day they had. We hear the  joy in their various sounds. We sit and listen as the Tom’s gobble for a new mate, the chickadees and phoebes sing their songs, the peepers begin to chorus in as night falls, the owls hoot in agreement… and then there are those amazing stars. If you live in or near a big city and you’ve never seen the night sky without light pollution then you’ll be in for the treat of a lifetime. On a clear night, the Milky Way is so brilliant it looks close enough to touch.  Shooting stars are usually visible every night.

It’s not really easy to explain why it’s so different up here…suffice it to say it’s just something your Soul remembers once you are here!

Shante’
Jana