Category Archives: COVID-19 Pandemic

You’ve Come So Far

And She said,

“There will be times in your healing process when you will be reminded that you don’t need to fight anymore. You don’t need to endlessly scan the land, looking for trouble, as you once had to. Each gate you go through, there will be a clear sign of certain dangers falling away. You will forget those signs and need to be remembered.

But here’s the clincher. In the lack of danger, there will be a void that will seem as frightening as your life was before. You will feel like you are floating out into space, into the unknown.

Remember your mantra, ‘If lost, return to self.’ 

There is always something to hold onto. It is you. The gorgeous light you have found inside yourself. Sing your song. Kiss the blessed earth and don’t forget to enjoy the garden you have cultivated within. Survival skills do not understand gratitude practices. They seem ..not very useful when things need to be done.

Walk into this terror. Feel it enliven your body. It is the first good terror you’ve come across. Remember the gates. You know what you have survived, what has left you and what is still to be mastered. Trust the truth of what you have accomplished. Trust the changes you have already made in your life. 

This work you have done – you have earned your own trust, so use it.
What does life have to offer when there is not imminent danger? It is not what they tell you. Go find out for yourself. Go make the life you wanted when you were held down.”

Pandemic Mabon

We have entered the land of the She
and the sun, she has slipped past, is making her way into the darkness.
She is taking with her
our dreams,
our dead,
our ideas of who we think we are,
and what we think would have happened.

Now in the second harvest, we see the truth
what we have gained
what we have lost
and what has never been all along,
the illusions.

Mourn like the rain for those we have lost.
Let it be easy, like the cool river
as she flows in the darkness.

Let fly free with the crows
your plans and visions which are not so.

There is much to do in the darkness
and we must be prepared.

Empty yourself.
There is time.
Empty yourself.
There is a shining within you.
Empty yourself
For the new dream that is coming.

Blessed be.

She Is Here – II

It’s not over, she says.

You thought
you’d had enough,
that you’d learned to listen.

You held fast
and now it should be over.

You can do more, she whispers.

Thank you for listening
to my beautiful birds
to the beating of your own heart.

Now what?

The borders are closed.
The sickness is rising.
The cabin fever.
The incessant fever.

The pent up emotion, frustration, dismay.
What will you use the immensity of it for?

You are alive.

How will you serve?
What is your creative contribution?

How will you release yourself?

Rubber Bullet Talisman

Send me your rubber bullets and I will build an altar for us.

It will contain the power that struck the hammer,
sending them, cutting through the air.

It will be packed with the force of cold, negligent denial
of all wrongs done from slavery until now.

It will be charged with the emotions of our people
on the streets, shouting until they can’t speak,
marching until their bodies hurt,
retreating through tear gas and chanting in unison,

of those tased in the car
while police slash their tires,
merely for being there.

It will hold the memories of those who held out their hands,
those who risked their lives,
those who crossed the lines,
those who took a knee for peace.

It will be purified by the mere act of picking it off the street,
turning it in one’s fingers,
and taking it home
to channel such
into societal transformation.

Take your rubber bullets
place them in a small dish.
Surround all that passion
and song
and force
and rage
and grief
and sweet bonding,
with petals
and nurturing sounds.
Then, light a candle
to hold witness to us all
as you shine in your heart to envelop us
with your sweetness.

Take your rubber bullet,
pierce it with a hot needle.
Pull a strong thread through the hole
and make yourself a garland.
Make yourself a thing of beauty,
wrought from the forges of rebellion.
Take it with you always,
to fuel your revolution,
which is our revolution,
to crystallize your truth,
which is our truth,
to remind you,
never,
never to stop.

She Is Here – I

She whispers, Do you notice more, now? Does the kitchen table have more substance? 
Do your books send magic off the shelves, into the living room air?
Are your interests dwindling to just a few, laden with suggestion? Sense the fresh in the quiet, she tells us. 
It could be ancient or new. What do you truly need to survive?
What clutter has been swept away? Do you want it back?
Or do you feel free? Has the voice from deep within you become more clear?
And when your loved ones speak, can you hear their depths? Keep listening, friend. I have always been here.
You have – we have always been here.

Sweet rain during the pandemic

Shh, shh, shh, shhhh.. she says
Go deeper.
But, bu, bu, co, corona-
She says go deeper, now.
Breathe. Earthen cool rain
Quite flame
What you left on the loom
From the past, comes the pain
Go deeper. Who am I?, again.
What have I done?
Where was I headed
before we
let the rest of nature out of quarantine? Making do
Discoveries anew
Can you hear the calling?
Why do I not hear the calling? Shh, shh, shh, shhhh.. she says
Go deeper.
But, bu, bu, co, corona-
She says go deeper, now.
Breathe.

Hold on, my friend.

My heart goes out to those who are emotionally suffering under the “shelter in place” order. I know. It can be excruciating to stay present while in the depths of one’s own disorganized self, especially if one has known great tragedy. And who in this great world has not? If not in our families and relationships, by the influences of corporate greed, which has swept us away, again and again from our true heart needs, while gouging Mother Earth, who literally is us in every way imaginable.
Maybe there is some energy rerouting that can happen. Think of the awe-inspiring, creative force each of us contains. We all have designed our own flow to keep our lives stable, investing our energy in chosen places, people, media, activities and mental structures. Now that our normal balance is upset, our energy might be spilling over, stopped up. It might be striking out. It can burrow down and create depression. Or it can just freeze and all those things we have been avoiding are right here, maddeningly in the forefront.
Hold on, my loved ones. This is a rare visit to the sacred forge of transformation. The power is building up and the heat is rising. This is the time to use every tool in your toolbox, every lesson you have learned about taking care of yourself, to rest, to ground, to breathe deeply and to listen. To dance, speak, sing, to ponder. To let yourself freak out. To write, break bonds, reach out or let go. You know what to do. The quiet voice that has been whispering to you, all this time, is still with you. Listen. Listen. Allow true inspiration to come from the depths of yourself, the earth, just as the Spring tendrils curl and reach upwards in a dance towards the coming sun. I know you. You can do this. Tasara Jen Stone

Prayer for Us All

Great Mother Earth, I am listening. Your cry, your warning could not be clearer, your Spring ever sweet in your instruction. You have taken many lives in the wildfires, storms and floods. Now you take more in this pandemic. I call out to the Spirits of the Land. I have not forgotten you. My heart aches for your resurgence. I call out to the Fey, to revel bright, to strengthen Mother’s voice for all to hear, to feel in the winds, to taste in her precious foods, to be intoxicated by, when her blossoms give and give yet again. May we learn our lessons gracefully this time. May the need for drama and extremism fall away. May the stillness be long enough for us to hear our heart of hearts. May we listen. May we turn the tides gracefully and with ease and wisdom. May we tend to all the sick of the world, human and other, with grace. May those that pass on, pass gracefully, and may they find their way to the other side by the grace of the Spirits of Kindness.
May we remember our citizenship in this world. May we level our eyes to every living being. May we wield with love and bring ourselves back into balance, before it is too late, before she balances for us, and we must start again, as we did millions of years ago. May this be the time that we listen. May this be the time that we understand. Tasara Jen Stone

The Season of Goodness

(Imbolc, 2020) Blessed Imbolc, my companions. The Earth, she turns for us. For the North, ’tis Spring – for our relatives in the South, Fall. We notice the buds on the trees, the longer stands of sun, the song of returning birds, the budding of flowers…and the unprecedented outpouring of generosity. The deep mother hands the reins to the gentle father and we are on. Here comes the sun. ’Tis the Season of Goodness.
Now is the reign of the Sun, who pulls us gently towards his heat, who is soon to intoxicate us with offerings of new life. May our expressions be joined with these forces that reach ever upward at this time. May we be slow, to listen, be wooed into the magic and be lulled by the song of our own hearts. There is much to fear, yet the season of life continues. What passion rises in you? How may you share it with the rest of us?
Now is the time to express. Blessings on our journey through these times. Please, Spirits of Kindness, look over us. Stand by those under ventilators, isolated from their worried families.
Make visitation with our distraught families, soothing, circulating through the empty spaces, putting the old things to rest. Rest deeply with our medical providers and give our leaders strength as they navigate the governmental powers on our behalf. Remind us to listen for the Spring in each other’s hearts, to breathe deeply, to wait for the silence in our conversations, to bridge the long held distance we have had while jostling so close together. May we learn to integrate with our hearts this time, as is in our nature, as is in the nature of nature, to grow. To continue on in newness each time. The seeds are in the air, looking for fertile ground.
Open, my friends. Receive, take root and blossom for us. We need you.
Blessed Be. ~ Tasara