Wilderness Travelers

Wilderness Travelers

It’s a dark and dreary wilderness
we wander in.
 At times alone
                                sometimes in groups

Searching, but not knowing for what.

 In the distance
the mountain beckons.
It seems so large and forbidding.
What is this tugging we feel?

We make our way slowly, past the groups of revelers.
Comfort zones like an oasis
 we rest for a while.
Somehow we know there is more.
Deep in our souls, a whisper-a promise of greater things,
even joy.

So we continue
closer to the mountain.
Approaching, we find other groups
and hear echos of drums and chants that call to our souls.
They’re marking a path,
but where?
All I can see are boulders
                                                this is the end of the trail.
Or is it?

Debbie Luke
July 2010

The Anima and the Animus

The Anima and the Animus
by Debbie Luke

The anima and the animus are archetypes. The terms come from the Latin, meaning “soul”. Archetypes are patterns of behavior that only take on meaning when they are applied to an individual’s understanding of the self. Jung said that “every man carries a woman within himself”. Goethe called this “the eternal feminine”.

The anima/animus exist in the subconscious, many times appearing in dreams, many times influenced by the relationship the person had with their father or mother, ie, if a person had an overbearing mother, their dreams may contain negative female antagonists.

In many fairy tales, the animus takes the part of male antagonists-perhaps robbers or other villains who force the female protagonist out of her comfort zone and into a series of challenges that build her assertiveness and independence, helping her discover her dormant strengths and talents.

The anima has the effect of helping the male protagonist develop receptiveness, creativity, the capacity for personal love, recognition of feelings, and developing and trusting intuition.

At the most basic and simplistic level what happens is that men begin to develop their capacity for relationship and must come to terms with emotions, vulnerability and needs, while women begin to become more decision and action oriented and in the process claim their independence, courage, power and wisdom. At midlife women are called to decide and do while men are called to nurture.*

These characteristics are analogous with the concept of yin and yang energy. Integrating both aspects brings wholeness to the individual.

* www.lessons4living.com

When It's My Turn

When it’s my Turn

Here one day, and then, not.
The passing feels surreal.
Witnessing the final breath,
Still waiting for the next.
Still waiting.
Waiting.
Still.

The earth has shifted.
Each hesitant step – wobbly and unsure.
What did I ever know about life….before.
I thought I understood.

Vision clearing,
Looking back on the trails, they look different than I remember.
The path not taken wasn’t the true course.
The chosen path was hard, but led me here.

Lessons learned,
Priceless memories.
A deeper understanding, and
Opening of the heart.

When it’s my turn, I will go gladly.

Debbie Luke
Sept 2013

The Invitation

The Invitation
By Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for,
And if you dare to dream of meeting
Your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
For love, for your dream,
For the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow,
If you have been opened by life's betrayals,
Or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain,
Mine or your own,
Without moving
To hide it or fade it or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy,
Mine or your own,
If you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
Without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself,
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.
I want to know if you can be faithless and therefore be trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty
Even when it is not pretty every day,
And if you can source your own life
From its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure,
Yours and mine,
And still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon,
"Yes!"
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair,
Weary and bruised to the bone,
And do what needs to be done for the children.
It doesn't interest me who you are, how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
In the center of the fire with me
And not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
From the inside
When all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone
With yourself,
And if you truly like the company you keep
In the empty moments.

Who Am I Now?

Who Am I Now?

Who am I, and
 what are my gifts to the world?
 I’m a feather, a reflection….unruly, unpredictable me.
 Don’t try to put me in a box or slap a label on me.
 I need space to breathe,
  to fly.

 The wild animal placed in a cage
pines for the hills, the forests.
Wasting away
unrecognizable to former mates
 nothing left of their former self.
Where there was joy, now despondence.

How to reclaim their former glory?
Can the captive be restored?
Can there be beauty in captivity?
What lessons learned
 can create something even more beautiful?

In a cruel world,
the cage may be a savior.
Another chance to dance.
Another way to be.
Quietude, time to think,
observe.

Once freed, now what?
Old patterns are broken, old haunts
changed.
Mixing old with new,
transformation is never easy.
The scars are apparent.

Putting the puzzle together
without the picture.
The pieces may be combined in any number of ways.
My choice.
which begs the question….

Who am I now?

Debbie Luke  6/6/2011