Archive for the ‘Insects’ Category

More Mantis and Marmot Magic

After last week’s unusual animal sightings and interactions, the bizarre fun continues. The praying mantis who “reported for duty” last week is the friendliest insect I’ve come across. He (and it does seem to be a he, judging by size) landed on David’s arm on Sunday, and yesterday, I felt someone looking at me, only to discover it was my little mantis friend, hanging out on the cosmos! He said hi and then continued on his way. Today, he landed on my arm while I was planting strawberries and thyme. We both startled each other when I jumped, but after I apologized for flailing my arm, he turned his head and nodded at me.

David took down the dog run wire that had created a no-fly zone for hawks and eagles, Continue reading

7 Photos and 7 Days Left at Faery Hof!

A countdown is in effect. We have exactly one week left before the movers take us away from the house and yards we’ve nurtured the past almost five years. Yesterday afternoon, David and I hosted some yard lessons on how to operate his parents’ old lawn mower we’re leaving here, plus I gave a tour of the various herbs, perennials and fruit trees for easier ID. I’m also leaving each house with the map I made for my Permaculture Design Certificate — but with individual fruit and nut trees and shrubs labeled.

Last week, we already moved about half of what we’re taking to the new place, but now it’s crunch time for packing, sorting and figuring how the heck I’m going to get my container garden to the new yard without needing to rent a separate truck just for plants. You can see just some of them below:

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Most of the indoor plants moved last week, since they can survive without daily care. On these hot days, containers need frequent attention, though, and many of my containers not pictured are too large for cars. Here’s hoping the movers work some magic, since I convinced them to move my garden if we have room. “Normally, we don’t move living things.” I’m not sure they know what they just agreed to! We’ve got another truck reserved for later in the week just in case … but, goodness, it would be so nice to be done!

Meanwhile, here are six more photos of the yards at Faery Hof and Haus Am See. I’m so relieved all the new renters get along and have already developed some sense of community even beyond the gardens. It turns out Continue reading

Garden Update ~ Tulips, Trillium, Trout Lilies, and Trees

More blooms from the ever evolving yard! Today’s flowers celebrate the letter “T,” and represent just a small smattering of bee and butterfly delight. Yes, some hungry pollinators have already found our yard. In addition to the wild trillium I saved from a destroyed woods a few years ago, we’ve also got trout lilies from the same woods, along with still massive amounts of dandelions, plantain and wild violet, courtesy of Nature herself. I thought I’d share some of today’s more stunning displays:

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Behind those peachy beauties, you can see the later blooming magenta yarrow, which has become its own tough competitor in the colorful riot to dominate this permaculture haven. Continue reading

Shaking up the Energies

Many people I know felt a sudden upsurge of fresh, benevolent energy as Mercury turned Direct on January 8th. In fact, all planets will remain Direct until February 6, 2017, which means these next few weeks offer strong forward momentum with no extra planetary resistance. Good times, but what happens when you find yourself in such auspicious astrology with lots of internal resistance? Today’s post is for those people I’ve heard from who feel stagnant, bored, full of ennui, or plagued by a major case of “The Should’s.” If you feel like you should feel better or more inspired but just don’t here are some tips for shaking up the energies. Continue reading

‘Twas the Weekend ‘Fore Autumn

The Weekend ‘Fore Autumn

 

‘Twas the weekend ‘fore Autumn and all through the yard,

All the plants were a’thriving, including the chard.

 

The bees dined on asters; the cushaw had grown.

The mums nearly bursting, the yard freshly mown.

 

Thai basil hummed purple; eggplants danced in the breeze–

The garden so fragrant, it drew many a sneeze!

 

Sweet potato vines covered the sides of the trough,

And on sedum and zinnias, butterflies sipped on and off.

 

For the first time in years, the holly had berries.

Boltonia blossoms delighted the faeries.

 

As Fall Equinox split the light and the dark,

Those flowers all giggled at anything stark.

 

The Robinhood roses had been blooming since June–

So hard to believe ‘twould be Halloween soon!

 

Why Telepathy Makes People Mad

Someone contacted me this morning about her increasing telepathic gifts, and our discussion reminded me of this article I wrote way back in 2008. That seems like forever ago, but I enjoyed the review, as world events and the worldwide awakening have continued to lead us more in the direction of Universal Telepathy. My original post rushed through me after I synchronously stumbled upon an online argument about Steve Pavlina “going off the deep end” and “talking to spiders.” Little did I know that my own post would create an even bigger stir as some people on Steve’s forums and in the blogosphere embraced new possibilities while others ramped up their denial in aggressive ways.

Given the massive doses of Truth sleeping masses on Earth are about to receive, this revelation-denial-acceptance-liberation process has even bigger implications for our changing world in 2012. I hope you enjoy my trip down memory/future lane:

Why Telepathy Makes People Mad

With the growing interest in Animal Communication, uber-bloggers like Steve Pavlina talking to spiders, and more people embracing higher vibration foods, also comes a backlash from people who would rather maintain old boundaries and a “comfortable” sense of separation. Anger, outrage, scorn and disbelief explode as those who accept (or at least explore) ideas of Oneness make their voices heard in larger and different ways.

Despite diatribes against talking to ants, I really don’t believe people hate bugs that much. They just don’t want to think of bugs as sentient, conscious beings, because, let’s face it: if the bugs have feelings and respond to us, then what does that say about animals and humans? And what about “no see ’ems” like angels, extraterrestrials, spirit guides, and disembodied souls? When you start talking about bugs as conscious beings with whom we can communicate, you open a whole ‘nother can of (potentially thinking and feeling) worms!

This polarization occurs in areas besides Animal Communication. My deaf niece Amanda recently received a cochlear implant and for the first time in her life has begun to hear. I have several contacts in the deaf community, and from what I understand, cochlear implants have become incredibly controversial. Parts of the deaf community feel that hearing will rob children of the gifts of being deaf, while others laud how technological progress opens possibilities. Many people have so appreciated my sister-in-law’s careful chronical of Amanda’s journey, because it brings this controvery back to individuals simply documenting their experience. Their blogs acknowledge the challenges but also share a sense of joy and liberation at Amanda’s growing ability to communicate in different ways.

The controversy of cochlear implants has actually reached the national level, as advances in hearing technology have literally changed expectations and responsibilities for educating the deaf. Teachers who cannot hear and who communicate with ASL (American Sign Language) only, must now find ways to help students with CI’s embrace other languages and techniques. People who have never used their own voice must now teach others to use theirs. How do schools find a balance among so many different levels of hearing, speaking and awareness? What does it mean to be deaf in 2008? Emotions on both sides mirror what’s taking place in the world at large.

Consider how communication has changed and expanded exponentially in recent years. When the World Wide Web initially appeared, some people “got” the potential, but very few could predict just how much it would revolutionize our world. Within a few short years, “everyone” was online. Communities like MySpace, Facebook, GI2MR, Twitter, eHarmony, and others have practically eliminated space-time restrictions to communication and relationship. It’s no longer unusual for folks to have friends on several continents, even if they’ve never left their own country.

The advent of blogging and e-books has further crunched time and space. We no longer need to wait for publishers and printers to release our messages. One click of the “publish” or “post” button does the trick, making words, sounds and images immediately available to millions. Translation software turns language differences into a non-issue, and viral videos like Dancing with the Universe go beyond words altogether.

Even the news media has had to reckon with YouTube. Primary debates allowed videos from actual voters asking questions of the candidates, and today’s presidential race dodges daily influence from blogs, pirate videos and online fact-checkers. Today, I saw a political analyst on TV, superimposed by his Twitter account with viewers asking him “real-time” questions.

For those of you not familiar with Twitter, it differs from email in that everyone can follow your conversations with everyone else. Talk about communication transparency! If you sign up to “follow” someone on Twitter, you can view their “tweets” all day long, along with online archives of all correspondence. In a sense you merge your consciousness with theirs, past, present and with the opportunity of future tweets. The catch? The messages must be conveyed in 140 characters or less. Thus, shorthand and abbreviations dominate, just like in animal communication sessions or sign language. Oddly evocative of Haiku, Twitter encourages its “tweeters” to convey much with little.

Major news programs now request photos and text messages from ordinary people’s cells and Blackberries. Why? Because it’s faster; they get immediate coverage. Thus, the desire to crush time as a factor in communication has democratized the news. Significant enough numbers of people have tired of the elite forms of information distribution. En masse and individually, they have finally said, “No, thank you” to old boundaries, hierarchies and separation. They have reclaimed and/or invented new means of communication that transcend the bounds of time and space. The more this happens, the more we’ve moved into COMMUNicatION. Crunch it just a little more, and you get COMMUNION. Oneness.

So, why does telepathy make people mad?

Because telepathy means change. Mainstreaming telepathy means an inevitable collapse of all the boundaries, fences, walls and judgments that keep things separate. It means lies we tell ourselves and others will become more transparent. It means intention becomes a more powerful and obvious force. It means that those whose power comes from secrecy or fear mongering will eventually lose their sway. Because individuals refuse to be silenced: man, woman, child, animal, bug, angel, extraterrestrial … they’re all exploring new ways to hear and help themselves be heard. The intense emotions and attacks in the deaf and Animal Communication arenas only amplify what’s happening everywhere else.

The writing is already on the wall. And in the blogs. And paintings and tweets and chat rooms. I’m reminded here of William Wordsworth:

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.–Great God! I’d rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.

In reality, we’re really not that far from universal telepathy. Think about it: fifty years ago, few people thought the deaf would ever hear; fewer people imagined sending “Instant Messages” to people in different time zones; and almost no one expected someone named Steve Pavlina to talk to spiders!

Whether or not people “believe in evolution,” we’re all in it. Right this very moment, humans and this planet are evolving. The Mayan Calendar, E.T. channelings and the New Age movement all suggest a movement to the 4th dimension, one in which time functions in a very different way. One which emphasizes timing more than time. Synchronicity. This shift involves a change of vibration, perhaps the very vibration heralded by raw foodists and long time meditators. In the end, though, it doesn’t really matter which route you choose, because the tide is strong now.

You don’t need to read esoteric spiritual teaching to recognize the forces of change. Turn on the news. Look at the stock market. 777 point drop on 9/29? The US Financial Market in a shambles? The barriers have already begun to crumble. CNN’s feature on raw food generated unprecedented interest. We have a black man in the running for president. Oprah’s talking about past lives. You can “tweet” from anywhere. Technology, Telepathy, Synchronicity, and Oneness. “The Word is very near. It is in your mouth and in your heart that you may observe it.”

Isn’t it time we do?

Copyright 2008 Laura Bruno

https://laurabruno.wordpress.com

Moths and Healing

We really can learn a lot from bugs!  Consider the lowly moth.  Usually not so glorious in color as its better loved cousin the butterfly, moths nonetheless can teach brilliantly about light and truth. 

“Like a moth to the flame,” we say to describe seemingly uncontrollable actions in the name of love or desire.  The expression often carries with it a sense of pathos.  Poor moth, unable to resist the fire that would destroy it!  And yet, there’s something admirable in that kind of one-pointed devotion to the light.  It reminds us of the potential we all have for true healing through love and Oneness. 

Shortly after we moved to Las Vegas, New Mexico, in 2002, we learned that in May and June, moths overrun the entire town.  Screens and adobe walls do little to deter these shiny grey intruders, and every morning meant awakening to glitter on our pillows.  And sheets. And floors.  And windows.  Moths, pressed against our screens!  Moths on the counters.  Antennae and wings streaked across our bathroom floor from accidental nightime tramplings.

Still recovering from a brain injury,  I found the whole scene maddening.  They flitted in my peripheral vision, teasing eyes that preferred to shut out a world which no longer made much sense.  Anything that moved or flickered bothered me in ways a healhty person cannot fathom.  It felt like pieces of my soul were tickling me with stinging nettle.  My neck would spasm as my eyes twitched, trying to interpret a fluttering world.  I’d grow dizzy and the room would spin.  If my surroundings did not stay completely static, then I felt sick.  All change was bad change, and I had literally developed tunnel vision as a way to cope.

Night after night, I sat at my little writer’s desk, tense with the prospect of grey moths dive bombing my face.  It’s not like I could write for more than 15 minutes anyway!  My eyes would pulse into a migraine after a short time of visual stimulation.  I resented these moths for taking my preciously small amount of visual attention and wasting it!  I wanted them OUT of our house, but every evening more and more appeared. 

Killing them, even if I’d wanted to, meant a gruesome, sticky mess, and so I became obsessed with catching them.  My first night of moth hunting, I only captured a single moth, and it took me three hours to do so.  I chased dozens of moths around the house holding a glass in one hand and a postcard in the other, determined to trap and release.  They made a game of it, lighting on the wall just long enough for me to aim, but not long enough to pounce.  My impaired brain and visual function definitely left me at a disadvantage.  Through tears, I swore the moths were mocking me.

Finally, after hours of missed opportunities, I managed to land a glass on the wall above a moth.  I carefully slid the postcard under the lip and triumphantly showed my now-husband. 

“What are you going to do with it?” he asked, somewhat bemused. 

“Put it outside,” I exclaimed, throwing open the door, at which time ten more moths enterred our home.  I fought and lost the battle with tears of frustration.

“That’s enough for tonight,” said Stephen, giving me a hug.  “You need to rest up for tomorrow.”

Practically sulking, I went to bed and had an exceptionally good night’s sleep.  I awoke the next morning to the usual glitter and wings, but somehow I felt a little more relaxed.  … Until that evening, when the moths began their nightly blitzkrieg.  This time I developed a strategy.  I would follow one or two around the entire house, wearing them down so that they couldn’t dart away from me at the last moment.  

The moths moved fast around my head, reminding me of Wolfe Pursuits–an exercise from my old days of vision therapy.  Three times a week, I had needed to go to the behavioral optometrist’s office, wear prism glasses and follow two curved handles with little silver balls on the end, expertly guided by trained vision therapists.  The goal was to line up the silver balls without shifting my eyes from their smooth flowing motions.  While doing this, I had to concentrate on the entire room as well, because my doctor would sneak up on me to ask, “What color shirt is Willy wearing today?  Who’s behind you?  How far to your right is this chair?” If I turned my head, I had to start over.  

These moths zoomed in front of my face like the silver balls, leaving tracers in their wake.  “This is trippy,” I told Stephen, who continued to look bemused.  That night, I could have caught both moths, but I had forgotten the glasses in the kitchen!  This strategy required more planning than I’d anticipated (no surprise since my sequential reasoning remained severely impaired). 

I was about to quit, but Stephen said, “You give up too easily.”  Well, that made me mad!  Damn moths, I muttered below my breath.  Making me chase you around the whole damn house.  Fluttering around my face.  Ha!  I snagged one on the curtain and quickly realized I had forgotten the postcards.  “Can you please bring me an envelope?” I asked.  Stephen did. 

Once I captured moth number 1, Stephen asked, “What are you going to do with it?” 

“Put it in the kitchen until tomorrow morning,” I said, recalling what had happened the night before.  I actually felt proud of myself for that forethought!  “And now I’m going to catch one more before I go to bed.”  Armed with a glass and postcard, I managed to trap moth number 2 much faster.  I set the second glass by the first and went to bed, feeling the sweet exhaustion of a well exercised body and brain.  In the morning, I released the moths outside, remembering to close the screen door so they would not immediately reenter our house.

This process continued each night for weeks, until I got so good at catching and releasing moths that I ran out of glasses, mugs and cups.  In the morning, our whole walkway would be lined with every container from our kitchen as I ritualistically removed the paper lids and let the creatures go.  “Wow,” said Stephen, “You’ve really gotten good at this.”

“Yep,” I agreed, smiling.  I also felt good.  Due to finances, I had had to quit visual therapy before healing all the way.  Chasing moths reintegrated my vision and brain with surprisingly similar methods.  No, I didn’t have prism glasses, but I did learn to follow moving objects with my eyes instead of my head while paying attention to the entire room. My horribly dimished peripheral field re-opened because I needed it to catch the moths.  (They were tricky!)  My sequential reasoning improved as I spent hours trying to outsmart these furry little insects, and my balance returned by practicing launches and then steadying myself until I could slide a postcard over the glass.

By the time I realized what was happening, moth season ended, but my healing had already solidified.  “Is that why you wouldn’t ever help me catch them?” I demanded.  Stephen just smiled.  To this day, I thank those moths for giving me the discipline and freedom to pursue the treatment I so desperately needed at the time.  And I thank Stephen for his smiles.  He always has liked bugs!