Wild Mustang: Lover of Soul and Inviter to the Dance

Remember That You Are Dust             “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.”   These words are spoken on Ash Wednesday as ashes are placed on the forehead.   They are words that connect us deeply to the Earth.   We are dust.   Living, breathing dust.   And one day, we will return to dust. One of the great tragedies of our day is the disconnect so many of us have from the Earth.   We see her. We walk upon her. But do we remember that we are of Earth, that we are dust.             I attended the Seminary of the Wild at Ghost Ranch in July.   We spoke of the Wild Self, the Wild Earth, and the Wild Christ.   Various times we were sent out onto the land to be and to listen and to walk.   (I wrote of one of these experiences in an earlier blog “The Invitation of the Lizard.) The experience I want to share today was the second time we were sent out onto the land.             I walked out of the back of the building where we were meeting and headed to the place I

Return to the White Place             In July 2019 I returned to the White Place (to hear the story of the first visit to the White Place, read last week’s blog.)   This was my fourth visit to the White Place (other visits will come in future blogs).   It had been a couple of years since I had driven out there.   I wondered if I would remember how to get there, but my body knew exactly where it was going, and it simply informed my mind where to turn.   As I drove up to the parking area for the White Place, a family had arrived just before me – a mom, dad and two young daughters.   My first thought was “I have to share this place with this family with kids.”   My second thought was “I get to share this place with this family with kids.”   I watched the oldest daughter, about age 5, explore the area with great interest.   She had taken her sandals off and enjoyed the soil on her feet, being careful not to step on the rocks that were scattered all around. How wonderful it is to se

The White Place: Holiness, Grief and Love Back in 2015 I was planning a trip to Ghost Ranch, outside of Abiquiu, New Mexico, to attend a John Philip Newell conference.   Before I left, I met with two friends: Suzi my therapist and Patti.   Patti had stage 4 metastasized breast cancer and, as sometime happens when people face their own death, had moved to a deeper level of living and wisdom. Patti and Suzi told me I must visit the White Place and the Black Place, two places Georgia O’Keeffe painted.   (More on the Black Place later.) I went to the White Place, which is just outside of Abiquiu, before I began my Ghost Ranch conference. The White Place is on some property owned by a Mosque. It is a unique rock formation consisting of white limestone columns jutting up in the sky.   The Indigenous People had gathered there for centuries for religious ceremonies. Ghost Ranch often brought groups out to spend the day simply being in the space.             When I arrived at the Whit

The Invitation of the Lizard             In July I was at Ghost Ranch Conference Center in New Mexico for the Seminary of the Wild.   On the first day, we studied the Wild Earth and were sent out onto the land.   We were asked to be open to who may come to guide us. I was excited about who I might meet. Perhaps a great cottonwood would call to me.   Or a raptor of some kind.   Or perhaps even a wolf.   As I walked on the land out behind the building where we were meeting, I looked down and saw a lizard. Is this my guide?   A lizard?               Maybe I was just imagining it, but I felt a tapping on my shoe and looked down and saw the lizard looking up at me. “You get me” he seemed to be saying.   Okay, a lizard.   I stood there for a while and watched the lizard as it crawled around on the ground, sticking its head into different holes, looking for something.   He seemed to be saying, “look down at what is right before you.”             I followed the lizard down the side o