Early Spring Lessons

 "To her fair works did nature link

The human soul that through me ran"

~ William Wordsworth

What lessons can we learn from Early Spring? The poem Lines Written in Early Spring by William Wordsworth is a poignant guide, as it has much to say about the Beauty to be discovered in Nature, in contrast with a tumultuous world.  Listen to yesterday's episode of The Frontier Beyond Fear:  Early Spring Lessons

In this season of awakening, I am personally experiencing a time of re-emergence, as my voice once again is called to expand in courageous new ways.  I am also supporting others, as they share their unique and authentic perspectives.  

I am looking forward to my upcoming appearance at the New Living Expo in San Rafael, CA April 19-21, 2024, where I will be speaking daily at the Embassy Suites Hotel.  In between events, I will enjoy meeting people at Breakthrough Power Booth #25 at the beautiful Marin Center.  Tickets are now on sale.  Learn more here:

Our Leap Beyond AI: Spiritual Breakthroughs Free Lecture
Susan Larison Danz, Friday, April 19, 2024, 7-7:45 PM

Hidden Energy, AI vs. Intuition, Nikola Tesla's Intuitive Leaps Paid Workshop
Jeane Manning and Susan Larison Danz, Saturday, April 20, 2024, 5-6:30 PM - Tickets: $28 Regular/$44 VIP.

Breakthrough Science: Freeing the Truth to Save the Earth Free Panel
Moderated by Susan Larison Danz, Sunday, April 21, 2024, 5-7 PM
Expert Panelists: Jeane Manning, Dr. Beverly Rubik, Daniel P. Sheehan, Dr. Lisa M. Christie, Dr. Linda Backman

(Expo events also require the purchase of an admission pass.)

I would also like to share a groundbreaking Special Offer from Gaia, the opportunity to view Emersion, Gaia's first live global streaming event March 16-26, 2024, featuring 22 worldwide wayshowers.  Reserve your free virtual seat here.  When you explore offers such as these, it helps to support my inspirational outreach, and that is very much appreciated.  (Link fully administered by Gaia, subject to their policies and procedures.)

Early Spring provides the perfect opportunity to bring this blog to life.  Now is an important time to nurture our authentic voices.  I hope you will reflect upon what your authentic voice is attempting to tell you.  Your voice is special.  Treasure who you are.  No one else has experienced your unique path or perspective.  Listening starts within - and so does discernment.  Listen closely.

Nature photo by Susan Larison Danz.

Natural Daylight Time

 "Time is an illusion." ~ Albert Einstein

 

As we once again adjust in the United States to "springing ahead", an increasingly common response is "Why are we doing this?". Unlike any number of articles or social media posts arising every time we change the clocks, this one is going to wholeheartedly provide some reasons to contemplate (logically, historically and organically).

It was obvious this morning.  The light was already arriving at a more natural time to wake up.  Imagine if we had stayed on standard time (which is less commonly proposed than its alternative).  Let's reflect on that first.  In a significant swath of the world, as this is relevant outside of the U.S. as well, the sun would continue to rise earlier and earlier and earlier and earlier, in a highly unpleasant way.  By the Summer Solstice in June, the sun would be rising at 4:07 AM in Boston, giving people in many places a less dramatic taste of Alaska's "midnight sun".  

Of more concern than an early sunrise, the sun would set an hour earlier than we are accustomed to.  This would scuttle many summer activities and also be a catalyst for more crime at a time of year when it is more rampant in the heat (and accidents as well).  This is actually the significantly less severe side of what would happen if we pursued the alternative approach of staying on Daylight Saving Time permanently (note there is no 's' after 'Saving', despite the temptation).  The impacts would not be a mere walk in the park.  In fact, many people would no longer be able to enjoy their lingering evening walks, because the earlier nightfall would impact the summer nighttime activities people have yearly enjoyed.

So what about the alternative?  What if we switch over to Daylight Saving Time now and never again decide to "fall back"?  The Senate in the U.S. already hastily approved this idea in 2022, and the House is now considering it, after the previous House session very wisely chose not to. Reports are mixed as to whether it would actually pass, as the House thankfully appears not to be prepared to make a hasty decision.  For those living in a southern state, the idea is much more attractive, as the tourism industry would love those year-round extra hours of evening light. There are various industries that have lobbied for permanent Daylight Saving Time.  Though I will raise some issues not discussed in this write-up, here is a good introduction to the topic overall. 

Most people do not realize that permanent Daylight Saving Time (on a 2-year trial basis, purportedly to save energy, which it didn't) was attempted before in the United States in 1973-74. It turned out to be a disaster, and the decision was rapidly reversed (before the 2 years ended).  A large majority of people were initially in favor of the idea, as every time we change the clocks, the transition is unpleasant.  But as soon as they experienced the unforeseen consequences, its popularity plummeted. The reasons are logical, but human beings tend to contemplate things more in terms of short-term satisfaction rather than longer-term consequences.  Yes, it is true that changing the clocks carries some observable difficulties (stated in several articles here), but these are short-lived.  Not nearly as frequently stated are the longer term impacts.  NPR provides an interesting perspective on the modern and historical context.  This fascinating article describes what happened in early 1974 when the clocks no longer changed, entitled The US Tried Permanent Daylight Saving Time in the 70's. People Hated It. 

When I was a child in early 1974, I regularly walked to elementary school at that time.  The sun would have risen after 8:15 AM that chilly January.  I have no memory of what happened.  I recall school started at 8:25 AM, so I probably started out on my walk before sunrise.  Thankfully, it was a 20 minute walk or so.  Had this persisted into the following year, when the school boundaries changed and I had much, much farther to walk, it would have been significantly more complicated.  Ironically, it was the Governor of Florida who asked that permanent Daylight Saving Time be repealed due to an early-morning accident involving children (as mentioned here).

The problem with permanent Daylight Saving Time is it has significant detrimental effects on the most vulnerable people in our society.  The same can be said in other ways (particularly crime and accidents on darker summer nights) for permanent Standard Time, but it is true the impacts of permanent Standard Time are arguably less severe.

Permanent Daylight Saving Time would not only impact children.  It would severely impact the elderly and those with disabilities.  Many elderly people avoid as much as possible being out when it is dark, particularly on the roads.  In Seattle, on December 21, 2023, if we didn't change the clocks, the sun would not rise until 8:55 AM.  Contrary to popular misconception, Seattle is not the same as Alaska (and really nowhere close to it).  In wintry climates, where it is icy, ice would linger longer into the morning, impacting the safety for everyone either walking or driving in the morning (or anyone disabled).  The elderly often have medical appointments early in the day, and they tend not to be able to navigate as well late in the day.  People are not at all accustomed to repeatedly rising in what would feel like the middle of the night, and there are actually health and cognitive effects to repeatedly doing so, some studies say (due to impacts on cortisol levels).  

"Natural daylight time" is more of a concept than a recognizable label, the concocted subject of both this post and my podcast a couple of days ago.  I promised to blog about the idea as well, but the podcast, albeit a little more fragmented than usual (as I was jumping around on my computer and got a bit frazzled), pretty much said most of it, and perhaps in some ways more directly.  That's because natural daylight time is about aligning our lives and our schedules with the sun, as much as we can manage it.  That is precisely how it felt to wake up this morning and realize the sun was much more directly aligned with my clock.  I didn't really need the clock today (I did yesterday, as I needed to get up early for a planned activity), but the light's arrival was much more aligned with a far more natural schedule.  

Observe the light in the morning, and you will see.  And yes, the extra light in the evening is very nice as we head into summer.  We need not keep it in the winter, due to what the serious sacrifices would be (most of us do not own or daily visit vacation resorts in Florida).  I for one find myself very thankful for the way we are doing things.  I've been doing this for decades (and changing springing ahead to March and falling back to November was a good compromise, as one of the articles I've listed states - I actually like that). 

We could do even better, organically.

Modern society has created continual ways that we can't control our waking times.  We are ruled by our clocks (generally on our phones these days).  How might we change things if we eased our dependency?  So many things would be very much different (including this week).  Some of us know - because we're doing it (as much as we can).

Nature photo by Susan Larison Danz.

Seeing the Stars

 "My God, it's full of stars!" ~ 2001, A Space Odyssey

Today, on The Frontier Beyond Fear broadcast, I reflected upon our mystical relationship with the stars and with Nature, exploring what it truly means to "advance" as a civilization.

Listen to the podcast here:  Seeing the Stars

 

 

Photo Credit: NASA

 

The Stars We've Lost

 "One might think the atmosphere was made transparent with this design, to give man, in the heavenly bodies, the perpetual presence of the sublime.  Seen in the streets of cities, how great they are!  If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore; and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God, which had been shown!" ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nature, 1836

View above the atmosphere (Photo Credit: NASA)

I came across this passage the other day, accentuating a reflection I have pondered rather often.

We don't see the stars anymore.  Not most of us.  Perhaps a glimpse while on vacation, if you can get far enough away from the city.  Meanwhile, we are filling our skies with artificial objects, as unfathomable numbers of satellites launch.  And we hardly even care.  In fact, we celebrate our "progress". 

How is the diminishment of visible stars in our skies impacting the human experience?  How is it impacting us, mystically?  I happen to believe that the mystical is actually the way the advancement of a species is measured (if it made sense to "measure" such things, which is a bit contradictory).  We've abandoned it, mostly.  And at our peril.

Do we realize we are having an entirely different experience with the skies than all of those who came before us?  

I read an article not too long ago that we never really feel at peace within a city - because we've evolved to do far better in rural locales.  This isn't particularly about artificial light, but no doubt, that isn't helping.  And yet I couldn't be here writing without it and every other technological trapping.

What if things had happened differently?

If another Carrington event arrives, as it inevitably will, we will gasp to see the stars (and the auroras accompanying them).  This foundation we have built is fundamentally an illusion.  What would we do, then?  Who would we be?

Who do we choose to be?  Why wait?

If there was a contest between the mystics and the materialists (not to say that mystics think competitively), guess who "wins"?  There's only one way forward, really.  And it's not the way we've been taught to think.  The way we're told is "real" is the illusion.  And the way we're told is the "illusion" is actually Real.  And once you know it, you know.

The Park is Open

 A Spontaneous Short Story by Susan Larison Danz

In the Time of the Pandemic

More to come... 

 

It wasn’t quite summer yet in the mountains.  In fact, it wasn’t quite spring.  Calendars have never dictated the weather in the Rockies.  Even so, it felt much like summer to Summer.  Her mother had named her after a moment in Moraine Park, she’d been told, on a beautiful day she’d met a handsome ranger there.  It had always been about feeling, the name.  Feeling and Beauty.

How surprising in this unusual spring could it be that Summer found herself in the very place that had inspired everything that she was and chose to be.  They were old timers in Estes Park, year round residents.  The town had asked that the Park be closed down, earlier than the rest, because of the virus.  Estes Park, you see, like many small, vacation towns, was filled with elderly residents year-round.  Summer’s parents were no longer on the planet, and in a way, she was relieved. 
This was a spring like no other.

Still, there was freedom.  And a very rare gift.  Summer usually worked at the Visitor’s Center for the National Park Service.  She knew everything about the Park there was to share, and she loved her job.  It was open year-round, though quieter in the winter.  And as much as she missed sharing her intricate knowledge with those passing by, her role now was astonishing.

Through a series of surreal coincidences, Summer found herself this day in Moraine Park.  She was needed there, and she happily accepted.  She knew every bit of its nuances and trails.  She’d worked at that visitor’s center for a time as well and was often on loan, but she rather liked the main center at the Fall River Road entrance.  Her knowledge of the Park started very early, and her father had taught her many subtleties.

She already knew what might unfold right in front of her, though she didn’t quite know how or what to expect.  Humanity was all but gone, you see.  And spring was gradually arriving.  The bull elk would be shedding their antlers soon.  Summer learned at a very young age to respect the elk.  They would show up everywhere, even in Estes Park, particularly in the Fall during their rut, and would astonish visitors without fail every year as they wandered into the roadways.  Elk were always to be given the widest of berths, no matter how tempting it was to approach them, as they could charge a person on a whim.  Wildlife is to be respected.  She told the visitors how, often.  Often they didn’t listen.  But she’d made the attempt, regularly.

The bears were coming out of hibernation soon.  The eagles were quite regularly soaring overhead.  Summer knew and loved the eagles, and what many people didn’t generally realize, is the eagles could know a person in their midst, astonishingly well. They spoke to her, this year more than ever she could recall.  The deer were wandering ever more near.  Soon more birds would arrive.  It was a bit early yet.  

When would the Park reopen?  Nobody knew.  What a glorious thing, truly, despite everything, everything else.  It was as open as ever.

Eagles at play in the Western U.S. (Photo by Susan Larison Danz)

Water Flowing Everywhere

"It is life, I think, to watch the water. A man can learn so many things.” 

~ Nicholas Sparks

Lately, and continually, I've been noticing water.  This is one of those new and very old things, but it's new every day when we choose to see it that way.

There are dramatic ways of looking at water, of course, expansive ways.  The ocean.

 

Yet what captured my attention just the other day while walking?  Water flowing in the gutters in the street. 

And suddenly I more fully remembered the child I once was (and still am, when I remember), how captivated I was by such a readily approachable thing as watching gutter water flow.  At times I would do something to divert the water's direction, then pause attentively, observe.  I was occasionally more entertained by the gutters around our home than with any number of toys, though I liked toys too.  This was my childhood.  And I remember.

Now when I look upon the water, and this is what I noticed the other day, I reflect upon the Flow.  I reflect upon how it is truthfully possible to discover hidden beauty in the simplest and most humble  of diverse ways.  But we must open our eyes and choose to look.  I'm happy I remember.

Flight, in Stillness and in Motion

"For I would ride with you upon the wind,
Run on the top of the dishevelled tide,
And dance upon the mountains like a flame"

~ W.B. Yeats

It is windy today.  It has been windy, lately.  It comes and it goes and is noticeable.

In the midst of a rather reflective afternoon, I had taken off my glasses, reflecting.  And then even without glasses, I saw them, outside my window.  I put my glasses on quickly and thought I might capture them.  They had flown in, all together, and landed.

And then as quickly as they arrived, with another gust of the wind, they took flight!  All together.

The Walk of Life

"The longer I live, the more my mind dwells upon the beauty and the wonder of the world."
~ John Burroughs

I was delayed and came upon them.  Perfect timing, as usual.  Like me, they were enjoying this beautiful October day.  It didn't matter that they came to the path with their wheelchairs and their walkers.  We all arrive with our encumbrances.  

They stayed on the path much longer than I did.  They made their way to the water and lingered.  I passed them as I returned.  They were posing for a picture.

And then I noticed this, a little ways from the beginning.

Encumbrances, released.

Spring, Insistently!

"To anticipate, not the sunrise and the dawn merely, but, if possible, Nature herself." 

~ Henry David Thoreau

Very busy today doing "necessary things", having just quickly taken my 13-year-old dog out and back in 20 minutes ago, she suddenly became rather anxious, insistent, pacing the room.

"Do you need to go out again?" I asked, thinking she had more "business" to do.

And so out we went - she is mostly blind and partially deaf and must be taken out on a leash due to the retaining walls and steps in the yard. Slowly she made her way up the little slope and stopped, sniffing the air best she could (her sense of smell isn't what it once was either).

She paused a long while.

The birds sang.

And then down she plopped in the grass in the sunshine and decided that's where she wanted to be.

Apparently she DID have "business" outside. Perhaps we all do. It's called Spring.

Silhouette

“There is strong shadow where there is much light.” 

~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

I walked in where it was warm, and lingered a while.  Outside it was Beautiful - yet winter.

The walls were filled with photographs of summer.  Mountains and waterfalls, flowers and birds.

I happened to look up. 

Winter had added its own contribution, rivaling the rest.

"Nature Religion" at my Door

"Forgive me that I cannot kneel

And worship in this pew,

For I have knelt in western dawns,

When the stars were large and few"

~ "God's Creed", Ella Higginson, 1861-1940

It's a rare morning when the front page of a city's newspaper shares the heartfelt words of Ella Higginson, a poet laureate of Washington state.  I'm happy to discover Ella - she and I are clearly kindred spirits on the path in many ways.

The excerpt from her poem God's Creed appeared in the following story:  Do you see God in a sunset?  "Nature religion" may be the signature spirituality of the Pacific Northwest.  

Apparently another study (this one by Baylor University) has awarded Portland the distinction of being the most unchurched city in the entire United States - and Oregon the most unchurched state.  

This particular study took a rather unique approach: 

"Researchers compared the richness of natural amenities in every U.S. county to religious adherents per 1,000 people.  They found that areas with higher rates of amenities have lower rates of religious adherence."

I'm not at all surprised.  Like Ella, I walk the passages of "Nature's church" most days of the week, and even when I must remain at home, my church sends missionaries to my door.

Transistor Radio Summer #5: Rocky Mountain High

"You might say he found a key for every door..." ~ John Denver

I grew up in Denver with the wonderful John Denver, his musical creations flowing through my days for years.  I can't remember the first time I saw John Denver at the legendary Red Rocks, but I know it was more than once.  I was surely listening to this song already in the Summer of 1973.  I play it often still.   It too is all about Awakening.

I tried to touch the sun a couple of times.  I took it into myself.  But I didn't need to take it in at all.  It was a part of me all along. 

Weeding

"Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything that is beautiful; for beauty is God's handwriting..." ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

I have gotten behind (way behind!) on my weeding.  And because weeds in my gardens can no longer stay, I set about the task, just now, for a time, a little at a time, or so I thought.

I was in for a bit of a surprise.

The more I weeded, the fewer weeds I saw.  It seems many of the weeds had integrated into Beauty, no longer weeds at all...

Beauty

"The fruition of beauty is no chance of hit or miss - it is inevitable as life - it is exact and plumb as gravitation." ~ Walt Whitman

As I walked, there it was, Beauty emerging where it is not supposed to be.  Where would it be if not for the brokenness?  And would we even notice its unlikely vitality if not for the jagged edges?

Simplicity

"I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journeywork of the stars." 

~ Walt Whitman

As I was on my walk today, a delicate pattern at my feet captured my attention.  I cannot really know what the winter winds had left upon the ground, but I stopped to breathe, observe and celebrate the grace of its simplicity.

Reclamation

"...the seed still unbroken

the star still unburnt..." 

~ Ali Smith, "How to be both"

I found the altar scattered on the ground today, many pieces missing.  How it came to be and not I cannot know.

Nature restores all things to what they Are, even as it always builds Anew.  The entire forest is an Altar, as is our entire Planet Earth...

Altar

"'Your sacred space is where you can find yourself over and over again." 
~ Joseph Campbell

At the beginning of every yoga class, there is a statement, translated and not:  "Now is the time for yoga."

"Now is the time for Beauty." echoed in my thoughts, as splashes of light in the forest called me to a sunny day.  On any given morning, there are many things I "need to do", but when "Now is the time for Beauty", Beauty is what I need.

Eventually I came upon an altar, its origins unknown.  Perhaps it was a child at play.  Perhaps it was an adult.  Is there really any difference?

Whispers

Quietly the mountain
whispers, whispered
carrying the Winds
A child she was
Knowing
A woman she is
Remembering
Reclaiming the wisdom
of the Winds

~ Susan Larison Danz

An "Important" Reminder...

"Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year." 

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

On my way out the door to the woods far too early this morning, the phone rang.  Reluctantly I answered.  It was "business".  Something "important" to do, more than one something actually.  With a sigh, I "had to" stay. 

Before long, the computer froze.  I had to restart it.  Then I found myself printing and printing and printing the same "important thing" multiple times, a form to fill out by hand.  My hand wasn't working so well, so I had to redo it.  And redo it.  And redo it.  And redo it.  (About 6 times of redoing!  And each time, I had to reprint it again.) After enough "important" iterations, the printer jammed and stopped altogether.

We can choose to let "the important" be told to us.  Or we can choose to decide what is actually The Important.

The instant I decided I needed to leave, the printer cleared, and within just a few minutes, the form was completed and sent.  There was another task waiting, something also "important".

I left anyway. 

I stood by the stream a long while.  There is only one place where I find my way down to the stream.  It's not a spectacular view there, not particularly.  Most people pass the spot without even looking, as you can't see the water at all from the trail.  I could sit there for hours, listening and listening...some views are meant to be heard more than seen.  And the more that you hear, the more that you see...

As I "listened" today, something came through....out of the blue, there it was...the very thing left undone...I wrote it by the stream, no printer required, "office space" provided by Earth, Unincorporated, on lease in a far different sort of a way.

Breathing again, I took to the trail, the weight of "the important" so very much lifted, the knowing of what is truly Important made abundantly clear....We often forget, but The Important reminds us.

Near the river, I saw her, a bit in the distance.  

The woman with a walker.  

A companion patiently, cheerfully walked along by her side.  At least a half a mile in, bundled up for the cold, what appeared to be a very old woman made her way step by step, her walker miraculously sound on a path filled with rock.

It seemed I wasn't "late" after all, my walk perfectly timed.

We so often think we must rush our way through our lives, "the important" stealing our very best moments away.  We don't need to rush.  Our Hearts know the pace.  We are fully supported every step of the way.

In the forest I stopped off the path to do some more "work".  And then I heard laughter winding its way through the trees.  There she was with her mother - a child of no more than three, joyously stomping through golden leaves at her feet.  I imagined her bringing smiles to the woman with the walker, this dear lady it seems not yet making it to the woods.

Losing track of the time by the river, I eventually got to the end of the trail.  Guess who was sitting on a bench at the viewpoint?  The woman with the walker, enjoying her lunch.  She looked to be in her mid-80's at least!  Young, old and everywhere in between, we had chosen together on this unusually cold day.

Life is astonishing if we allow it to Be.  We can choose to hear and see Beauty, breathe as much as we can, every day, every moment, from beginning to end.  Today I was reminded of what's truly Important.  (Yes, perhaps next time I'll take along my lunch too!)

Escape from Monday

"There is no race if the rats refuse to run." 

~ Origin uncertain, attributed to R. Amiton

There it was, out of place yet very much in place, an office building towering over the suburban trail.

So engaged I was in the midst of discovery, so focused on the beautiful beyond, I didn't even see it sneak up on me to one side.  This was yesterday...

Today I walked the trail again.  This time it was very much apparent on a sunny Monday morning, expected as it was.  Remembering another life of mine, I wondered how many eyes shrouded by darkened windows wistfully watched.  How many had watched even on Sunday?

What had they traded to sit there, day after day after day, at the shaded windows with a view? 

What might they trade to be free?

On my walk back, casually playing with shadows, I saw the narrow path.

A few, just a few, had apparently managed a lunchtime escape.

But is that really enough?