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Memory of Bone offers somatic movement and yoga. The movement invites slowing down to meet oneself in the sensory immersion in breath, pulse, and nerve. It offers a space to listen to the ancestral stories that the body remembers in its tension and joy.
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Grief as a river offers grief work where we tend grief through presence, story-telling, and ritual. It is an invitation to journey with grief together and let grief guide us into conversation with the soul of earth. This is grief work as soul work where by allowing in the weight of grief's withered tree, we spark the song of soul.
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Dreams of Earth offers dreamwork in groups as a somatic body practice where we explore dream images as messengers from the body of earth. It is a space to deepen relation to the wider ecology of being by bearing witness to and embodying dream images.
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Coyote Writer's Workshop is a place to embrace the trickster of language, explore your mythopoetic identity, and find community in creative expression.
Loss is not an enemy. Loss is an invitation to welcome back to the table of conscious awareness the places that have been abandoned or neglected. It is the voices of those shadowed exiled places, be they those of our inner wounding or those voices outside us, human or more-than-human, that carry the medicine we need to “jump up and live again,” in the words of Martin Prechtel.
The journey to awaken and live a life driven not by unconscious convention, but deeply rooted in authenticity requires metamorphosis. Grief is the food that the caterpillar feeds on as she makes her transformation.
But soul-making is not the work of creating a beautiful immortal butterfly, flying apart and proud. Soul-making is a conscious journey toward death. The journey of becoming an individuated soul is to be cooked into good food for those who come after. It is to become a good ancestor making fertile soil. I surrender to the whispers pulling me away from an easy answer into the depths of mystery that will eventually transmute my body into good compost.
Just for today, let it be enough
to soothe this animal body.
Let’s take a walk
down to the creek in the deep forest.
Feel the softness of the soil.
Let the fragrance perfume you.
A child sits by the water.
Anoint her with the oils of the fir.
Don’t abandon her to her fears.
Speak to her in the language of eagle.
Speak to her in the language of fern.
Speak to her in the language of the thousand-year-old redwood,
so she knows who she is.
Listen, the forest is speaking
to all the frightened animals in its care.
I am one with the porcupine,
whose prickly quills are quieted in the here and now.
I am the one who loves the quills.
I hold the hand of the child.
We walk together to the well.