And to think, our general idea of nature is that it is ‘outside’. But we are also natures creatures, Pachamama’s love children with Father Sky. We are wild…jungles of  bones, blood, guts, water and lightning and wildfire…

This twinge says “Yes, I see you in this mirror”. This ‘outside’ place is like a romantic invitation. Come dance with me, my beloved.

And to say ‘Yes’ to that calling is to bring this inside world to the outside world…effectively releasing the need to choose sides.

Listen…do you hear that?

Something just felt wrong.

Believe me, i realize just how amazing the internet is, just how full on cool it is as a species that we have this creative tool. I have this website, this way of interacting and creating that is broad reaching and fun. I have been able to share a great deal of shamanic medicine via directed energetics because people communicate with me thorough email…and still, though the info part is delivered through the keyboard, screen and pressing send, the medicine is delivered person to person.

It was in teaching in groups, virtual gatherings that i felt ‘wrong’. And to be clear, the ‘wrong’ feeling wasn’t in the idea that i had breached some sacred protocol or holy law….the ‘wrong’ was in the compromise of the wholeness of the experience.

Any gathering or ceremony that I share in this world…it’s pure analog. It’s people sitting together, really listening – to each other, to the drumbeat, to nature. It’s our senses awakening to the sounds of the wind, the whispers of tree branches, insects buzzing, songbirds singing…the whispers of our ancestors calling us to walk with integrity…and deeper yet, Pachamama, calling us into the delicious adventure that is life. That requires us to shut the machines off, and go outside.

What i have noticed has been the compromise of all of this connection to lights, bleeps, power point, all of this screen stuff, is that people lose connection with something that is truly sustaining us. Relationship. The kind of relationship that requires us to listen to each other, to sit, breathe, and respond….human and natural connection. It’s risky, its vulnerable…and it puts us rather nakedly in the presence of the great mystery…because even if we want to know it all, there is very little that we truly know for sure. This is the path of integrity, and it requires courage.

So, i will continue to write blogs, offer up snippets of my adventure…but when we sit by the fire, when we sing together, when we breathe together, when we drum and journey, it will be in person. And that isn’t easy, it requires planning, intention, taking time to do it…but honestly, there is no alternative…or there is compromise. And it is too sweet, too powerful to compromise.

The sum value of every text you write in your whole lifetime will not replace one look into the eyes of another human being.

Big Love,
Dawn Dancing Otter

I answered to her, with a big smile on my face, that this lifepath is not something I had to teach myself or talk myself into believing. My senses simply awakened to it. I don’t ‘believe’ it. I live it through becoming. And I have witnessed and experienced the miracles firsthand thorough shifts in dysfunctional beliefs, relief of suffering, and radical physical healing.

She shared with me that she is more a ‘I’ll believe it when I see it” kind of person. I offered that it is very limiting to say ‘I’ll believe it when I see it” if one cannot ‘see’ (or rather sense) all that there is to see. We are able to expand our sight, and all of our senses. Shamanic Journeying is not ‘extra sensory’ it is expanded-sensory. Everything i have experienced in my lifepath has been through a sensed experience, not a fanciful belief system.

Life offers us the ability to choose to expand our senses, or to numb ourselves. It would appear at this time in our evolution as humans that many are content to feel numbed. We have many methods of numbing our senses on a daily basis – too much flourescent lights, or blinking monitors, or tv, not enough sunlight and moonlight – this numbs our sense of sight and dulls the responsiveness of the pineal gland.There is a lot of noise around (most of) us, wifi signals, cell phones, loud music attached right into our ears with earbuds..and we learn to filter it, so we numb our sense of hearing. The air sometimes carrries fumes and dust and pollution, so we filter our sense of smell. Our food is often not cultivated, prepared and consumed in a natural state, so we numb our sense of taste. We often shy away from different experiences of touch because of our fears…so we numb our sense of touch. We numb pain out with pain killers, and we numb pleasure out by not being present, too busy, too stressed, too distracted, etc etc. It is a small wonder that we do not ‘see’ or ‘sense’ all that is available to us. This can be quantified in science as we observe the action of the brain and spinal cord when subjected to various stimulation and over stimulation. With all of this overstimulation, the availability of our senses can be very compromised, so “I’ll believe it when I see it” becomes a very narrow statement about what one chooses to experience in life.

I say, don’t ‘believe’ it. You dont have to. Just experience it.

Shamanic lifepath only requires a decision – I will awaken – Born from a desire for truth, for love, for joy- that is bigger than we can describe. And that desire is so strong, it is like a deep internal fire burning to shine, and eventually finding the balancing force of water. Shamanic lifepath is awakening our true potential. It is awakening our ancestral connection, our true soul, not this shallow story that many of us keep telling ourselves everyday – when the truth is we are greater than stories. We are mythological. We are infinite.

Shamanic practice has awakened my senses to nature and the harmony of this life, and to the awareness of harmony within myself. It is a Universal symphony. It has awakened joy. I have become joy.

Big Love,
Dawn Dancing Otter

In this practice, I ask myself these questions:
What am I really feeling?
What are my thoughts here…am I staying within or distracting myself from the true feeling?
Are my thoughts true, are they congruent with my purpose in service?
If I feel defensive, what is the source of my fear?

And the mantra: I am responsible for this perspective.

And the response: I am sorry, I love you, please forgive me, thank you.

And then, I ask myself ‘what would love do?’

….this before I even speak.

Details:
Who: Anyone age 12 and up – class is for all levels, modifications made for beginners
When: TUESDAYS THRU SATURDAYS (no classes Sun/Mon), 7-8:15am JULY 4-AUG 31 (NO CLASSES JULY 29 & 30) NO CLASSES IN THE RAIN
Where: Wharf Park (dock), Naramata BC
Investment: $10/class. This is a drop in class.

Please Bring:
Yoga Mat and Strap,
Towel,
Water,
Blanket for savasana (or just dress in layers)
A friend

These classes are designed to get you moving, breathing, sweating, and enjoying your body in motion. Dawn will help with modifications, clear verbal cues, and physical posture adjustments for participants.

Your body is the manifestation of everything you believe is true. If you move your body, you shift your whole perspective.

As a child, I was taught that God loved us so much that he taught us through the Bible the RIGHT way to live, to worship him, to love each other, to pray, to be good little stereotypical girls and boys…and that the wrong way had eternal consequences. There was a Son, a Son brighter than the sun..and to believe he was the Son was the way to stop the Devil, who was surely, readily, greedily beating down my door, his hot breath ready to burn me for eternity. I did not see that God had any daughters, only a Son. This was something that disturbed me in its unacknowledged presence…like a blood stain.

These were my actual thoughts, the ideas that formed in my innocent child’s imagination…that came from the stories and messages told to me at church.

In all those Sundays of sitting on the hard wooden pews in church…my most prevalent thought when I was 5 years old, was…
‘God would throw me away if I made a mistake. If I said the words wrong, if I misunderstood, if I prayed wrong, if I was a bad girl, because I am only a girl, not the Son…but the Devil really really wants me. Why doesn’t God want me that badly too? Why would he throw me away if I wasn’t perfect? Because I am a girl? Why did he make me this way, and then not want me?’

Then I thought

‘maybe the Devil is making me think like this. Maybe I am not thinking good enough thoughts. Maybe if I was a Son, I would think good thoughts…God please help me think good thoughts…AMEN!’

When I became of age, I was given the choice of taking communion to belong to the ‘right’ religion or to an apparent path of certain destruction. I chose the latter… I couldn’t reconcile that God loved me and would ask me to twist myself into so many knots just to please Him…and the rules always seemed to change. I always wondered if I had it right, waiting for this apparent judgment day to find out if I was accepted into His inner heavenly realm. I could not accept that idea of God which seemed to make up laws at whimsy simply to control my behaviour. A God who made rejecting me a real possibility.

At Sixteen, I thought

“Who really benefits in me thinking I am unworthy daughter, a weak woman, that I must follow rules to be saved from my wickedness…’

Who Indeed? Were these thoughts of unworthiness spoken from the voice of my Creator, who created me in perfection?

I walk the path of honouring the Creator and Creation. I have never had the same wondering or self doubt…is it ‘right’, am I thinking the right thoughts, praying the right way, am I good or evil….these thoughts do not resonate. I love the microcosm of Creator – that is me, myself as myself, as a perfect creation of the Macrocosm Creator.

I know that my heart has grown compassionate in all the places I have walked on this soul journey. That compassion has shown me love in all the places I felt lost. I deeply feel and resonate with the Christ that was being heralded through the stories of Jesus. As I live and embody  compassionate love, many aspects of mind are sacrificed and are burned away. What is left is distilled essence… NATURE. My wildness is what saves me. That is where the truth grows and thrives. That is where I see my own suffering and know it isn’t real, even if I have invested so much belief in the suffering.

Now I am aware that I choose what I wish to make real with my beliefs. I am making choices which distill my heart essence.

Awen

Watch for THE UNDA PROJECT – this project is intended to stir a ‘wave’ of community going to their nearest river, lake, creek, or ocean shore to stand in the water and drum to harmonize with the power of the lifeforce that is our water. This action transmutes (clarifies) water as well as reconciles us to the responsibility of this sacred relationship. You do not need special training, you do not need special instruments, you need yourself, your love, your ability to feel and the courage to show up and stand together in the water.

I will be in various BC and AB communities this spring/summer facilitating these gatherings…everyone is invited and welcome to share in the intention.

My community comes first: Okanagan Lake – I will let you know the dates, times, and the locations of the gathering.

For those of you in the global community who would like to begin to work with the UNDA project, please email me, and I will share the details so that you can organize your own water gathering.
Details, dates and times of UNDA project gatherings can be found at:

http://theundaproject.blogspot.com/

Each moment that I am in this reality emerges and dissolves. It is quite beyond words. What I am aware of, to sum it all up, is that it is PERFECT. I am PERFECT. We are PERFECT just the way we are.

If disbelief could be suspended for a moment, we would find that the nuance of our existence as individuals is so precise, so extraordinarily balanced that it has never existed before now, nor will it exist again. In one minute, you will, again, be renewed, again shifted, again reborn – new cells, new thoughts, new feelings, each breath is utterly specific. The same sun that shines on my body shines on your body – but it is also an utterly nuanced experience.

This speaks to me of the possibilities for the essence of creation to move through us…shifting the balance of creative tension to whirl in an infinite dance.

That I would think that I am not perfect…that you are not perfect – this drives the compulsion to consume – to need to draw something to myself which I am ‘not’.

The truth is – I am a microcosm of Creator‘s Macrocosm– created in perfection. It is not possible for me to be less than that. As a creative microcosm, I created the idea that I am something other. As the soul will not invest itself in the notion of compromise – I lose touch with my soul, with the truth, with the very source of life. This is nothing more than a notion. And it is within this notion that I suffer.

As I clear my microcosm, I see each thought of imperfection…and I explode it, like a soap bubble.  It has no more gravity or truth than I can assign it. These thoughts, in the light of truth, are exposed as lies.

In this light, I become everything and nothing.

And I played in this magic kingdom, without asking whether it was ‘real’ or ‘imagination’, because to me there was no defining line between the two perspectives.

At age 10, abruptly, as though I had fallen out of a tree…’real’ became a necessary standard for my trust.  Real was equated with ‘tangible’, ‘reasonable’ or ‘logical’.My ‘imagination’ was no longer woven into my sense of reality. I began to believe that whatever I imagined or dreamed was a lie…that what I experienced as a young child was ‘just made up’. I thought I was experiencing disillusionment..and what I was really experiencing was more like heartbreak.

I developed my intellect, studied hard, worried, planned, and worked hard. The ordinary became very mundane indeed. To me, at this time, the world was not a magical place, it was a dark, resistant place…one that did not have my best interests at heart. The world seemed full of evil people, who wanted nothing more than to use and discard me. I perceived those who were kind to me as naive, or false. I played in that land, barren from magic,  for about twelve years…then, one day, abruptly, I fell again: this time off the seemingly solid ground into the rabbit hole.

I had spent the summer up in Dawson City Yukon in 1994 with my boyfriend, Tomas, working at the pub in the historic Eldorado Hotel. I was at a crossroads in my life and ready for a change -  I just knew I wanted more from my life, but not exactly what it was.  I had decided to study Massage Therapy in Vancouver, and one of the requirements was to attend an introductory massage course at the college. I planned to drive the six hours from Dawson City to Whitehorse on a late September Thursday morning with my friend, Michelle, and then fly down to Vancouver for the weekend, returning on the Monday.The ordinary planning of this trip was exciting, but  I had no idea that my life was about to suddenly shift.

On the way down, my 1975 Ford Station wagon – affectionately known as the ‘Land Shark’ – broke down. We made it to a place called ‘Stewart Crossing’, which is a settlement with a restaurant, gas station, and a garage. The mechanic, miraculously, had just returned from a long vacation somewhere south that very day. He was very reluctant to work on my car, though. After a bit of persuasion (thanks to Michelle), he had agreed to at least have a look at it.

After he assessed it, he said he could fix it, but it wouldn’t be ready until the Monday. Our flight was the next day, scheduled to land around noon, so we really did need to get down to Whitehorse if we were to go at all. I decided we would leave the car to be fixed, hitchhike to Whitehorse and then I would pick the car up on my way back to Dawson City on Monday.

We got a ride to the airport in Whitehorse with no problem. In my experience, people in the Yukon are always willing to help and are generous with their time. After flying down to Vancouver, staying until Monday morning, I flew back up (on my own this time) to Whitehorse. This is where the adventure really begins.

I asked all the people who had flown into Whitehorse with me if they were driving up to Dawson City. No one was going my way, but a woman readily offered to drive me to the turnoff on the Klondike highway to go up to Dawson so that I would have an easier time finding a ride with someone going that way. I went with her  the 18 km to the turnoff, and then out again, with my thumb out. It was a beautiful sunny day, but the nip of fall was in the air, and I knew it would get colder that day…still, I was full of hope that I would get a ride easily.

After two hours, someone offered to take me to Carcross, which is about two hours drive from where I was. I got in.

At Carcross, I ate some pancakes, and got back out onto the highway to get a ride the rest of the way up to Stewart Crossing to pick up my car.

Three hours went by. As I remember, it was somewhere between 5 and 6pm, and getting colder by the hour. Finally a man stopped. He said he was going to Pelly Crossing, which is a First Nations reserve , and is the geographic halfway point between Dawson City and Whitehorse. I hesitated, because if I didn’t get a ride at Pelly, there was nowhere planned for me to stay the night, and Pelly didn’t have services (at least back then). This man, who was very kind, offered to drive me up to Stewart Crossing – one hour north of Pelly  so two hours out of his way- if I bought him some gas and a pack of cigarettes. I thought this more than fair, and gratefully jumped in.

We drove for 2 hours, pulled into the gas station, and after he filled his tank, I hugged him goodbye. I don’t remember his name, maybe I never knew it. I think of him now as an angel.

At Stewart Crossing, my car was fixed and ready to go. It only cost me $40, though I am sure that was a deep discount. The mechanic was disappointed that my friend, Michelle, hadn’t returned with me, but was very kind and double checked everything before I left. He offered to fill up my tank, but after having a look, I had enough to get back to Dawson (or so I thought). There was a nagging voice in my head that said “put gas in the car you silly girl”. I ignored it, because I was getting short on cash, and this was the day and age before ATM machines. And cell phones.

I drove the rest of the way towards Dawson City, happy, singing Bob Dylan, Neil Young, and Joni Mitchell….excited to be back in my temporary home, and to finally get some sleep.

At around 11pm, still some distance to Dawson City, my car ran out of gas. I thought I was very close to town, maybe  three kilometers at the most. I layered on on my clothes, and set out to walk the rest of the way. The sky was darker than dark, and with no other lights, the stars were magnificent. There were no other sounds but the trudging of my boots on the snow as I walked. I began to feel a bit fearful as the wolves started howling. I shivered….it can’t be too far, I thought.

After walking more than 2 hours, I came to a road sign. It was covered in snow, so I walked up to it, and cleared it off. “Dawson City – 10km” , it read. From somewhere deep inside my soul, I started to cry…to scream. I felt such a sense of injustice…of betrayal. How could this happen to me? I swore, I jumped up and down and screamed into the well of silence.

I fell into silent, resigned walking. Step after step, not knowing how long it would take me,as it got colder and colder, truly feeling hopeless.

Then it happened.

The sky broke into every colour of the rainbow. The whole sky was alight…and crackling, almost like fireworks. The Northern lights danced and played…and it was all I could do to just take in what I was witnessing. It was a miracle.

For more than an hour, I watched the lights. I forgot about my anger and frustration, I felt filled with light, and joy.

As the lights began to die down, I realized that I would never see the world the same way again. And just then, a man drove up in a truck, and picked me up, driving me the rest of the way to Dawson City, even offering to fill up a jerrycan of gas, and drive me back to pick up my car. Every moment was set in motion to a perfection so that I could witness and be present to the lights without any distraction.

This day was full of miracles. It was an ordinary day. All of it was real, tangible, reasonable….and all of it extraordinary, mystical, and magical. It was visible to me that every part of that day had every need met to a perfection. Within me, the veil was torn in two again… and I started to see the Extraordinary Ordinary that is True Life.

Big Love,

Dawn Dancing Otter

I have been in Kananaskis Country, Alberta, Canada for the past few weeks.

In the center of the bounty of nature, it is easy…so easy to remember who I am. I walk in this crystallized wonderland – feeling warmhearted in the coldest cold. The coyote calls out to the moon…answered by his family…a chorus of barks and howls. The owls gossip in the boughs above my head,  I reach out with my heart sense to connect to the hibernating bears hidden from sight.

The Kananaskis river continues to flow – determined in the -25 degree cold, defying logic, the cold water cutting a curve in the thick snow along the banks. On this magical night, it has reflected back to me the infinite possibilities of my imagination. It sings to me: Yes, Dear One, Yes. As I play my drum, standing in the snow, I am filled with the sensation of the river that dances where even the cold cannot hold it.

The sky is indigo tonight – in the light of the full moon. This is a blue moon – confirmed by the sky. There is everything and nothing – the air so thin, it is in fact ethereal…I sense I am on the edge of reality…that the world I am breathing in is in the penultimate moment of becoming stardust.

I feel infused and transformed…and loved. So loved.