Winter Solstice at the Mayan Ruins

There was a great deal of hoopla and some unfortunate fears about the "end of the Mayan calendar" on the winter solstice this year. There were people who believed that the world was going to end on that day. Actually, the winter solstice marked the shift from one Long Era of the Mayan calendar--over 5,000 years--to the next, and it is predicted that this new era will  be influenced and guided by more feminine and beneficent energies. May that be true.

The Castle pyramid at Chichen Itza in the Yucatan area of Mexico

Well, left to my own devices I never would have dreamed up going to Mayan ruins at the time of the winter solstice. Thousands of New Agers were headed there to celebrate.  It promised to be a real dense crowd and that would mean a lot of concern among the local police. Not appealing.

My friend Serena invited me to come on the trip as her guest, all expenses paid. Serena went to Woodstock and she imagined that visiting the Mayan ruins at the solstice might be just like Woodstock minus the mud.

I thought her invitation was quite generous and it seemed a good idea to get out of the winter cold for a few days, see some Mayan ruins, spend some time with Serena (whom I had not seen in over 25 years) and see what there is to see, learn what there is to learn.  I agreed to go.

The enormous Carnival cruise ship held over 2,000 people and our Mayan Galactic Shift (don't you love that?) group on the ship numbered 200. There was a roster of speakers who talked about the Mayans, spaceships in ancient times, past life regressions, prophecies, intuition and psychic knowing and various other metaphysically oriented topics.

I went to several of the presentations. I especially liked one by author Robert Sitler, who has spent many years with various Mayan groups. I liked his focus on the cooperative lifestyle of the Mayans, the positive ways they raise their children, their connection with Nature, the value they place on respect, humility and gratitude.

I also sat in on a talk given by Newton Kondaveti, an MD from India who led us in a past life regression. (I have done past life regressions many times. I am of the opinion that whatever pops up in my mind is useful information for further growth, whether I believe it is "actually" a past life experience or not.) My experience was being a 14-year old native American boy, going on a vision quest, growing into a healer, living a long life and then dying. When I died in that lifetime, people said "His life was a blessing."   I would be happy if that were said about me at my death in this current lifetime.

From that experience of a healer who was powerful and humble, I recognize the value of humility. In this next year, I want to place my attention on cultivating humility in myself.

We spent a couple of hours at the Chichen Itza archeological preserve. It was far too short a time to relax into visiting that site.  The movement of the serpent can be seen  on the steps of the temple at the time of the winter solstice. I did see that movement.

It is a beautiful place, and I wanted to spend more time there, but being part of our cruise group herd, I had to move along.

Columns of ancient temple at Chichen Itza

I have been decompressing since I returned on December 23rd. The experience was so different from what I would have chosen on my own. That was good in the sense that it took me into new territory, where I had a chance to view the world from a different perspective.

When I got back, I had to work through some serious disappointment about spending so little time at the sites and about some of the behaviors of members of our group, whose "offerings" at the sacred sites seemed so disrespectful and full of ego. Embarrassing.

I can only imagine what the Mayan elder who led our group into Chichen Itza thought of us, people who could not or would not follow the simple directions he gave about forming two lines, walking in rows of four or making a nice round circle.  Instead, I heard a lot of grumbling and irritation about following the directions. Oy vey.  More work to do here, people.



It was marvelous to be in the sun and balmy sea air. I loved sitting on the balcony outside our cabin and looking at the nighttime sky. I am drawn to Mexico, and often think of moving there, so I enjoyed those days we spent in Mexican waters and on Mexican land.

At Chachanaab, a site of the goddess Ixchel

From left to right, Serena, Quicksilver, me and Shima

Serena and I met in the 70s--we are both part of the Church of the Gentle Brothers and Sisters, a group of healers now dispersed in various geographies. There were two other GBS members on the cruise--Quicksilver, who played a major role in organizing our Galactic adventure and Shima, who works with him. It was delightful to reconnect and to spend time with each of them.

I could say a lot more about why I am severely disinclined ever to go on another cruise. How about a summary? Too many noxious chemicals, too much loud noise and music, too much alcoholic inebriation, too many dumb activities, plus the glitzy awful decor. You see, I am a gal who thinks a journey in a gypsy wagon on summer back roads  is just the thing.

I am glad that I had that time to spend with Serena. As she noted, "Who knows when we will ever see each other again?" At this time in life, every meeting is flavored with the fullness of time.

Now I am back in my home ground. Back in my sweet cottage. Back to completing some wonderful creative and conscious aging projects. I'll share more about these in a future post.

Today, I am going to Skylark Assisted Living, where my dear friend Kate lives, and I will be offering a circle gathering. When people are in assisted living facilities, they often have very little or no opportunity to reflect on the inner tasks of this time of life, to be playful, to make deeper connections with themselves and others. They grow accustomed to diverting themselves or to resigning themselves. They become isolated, even in the midst of living so closely with others. I already did two poetry events there, but this event will be a bit different. I have a variety of tools at the ready, but I will have to play a lot of it by ear, and by heart.

I know there are at least two people there at Skylark who are open to what I have to offer. Perhaps it's like performing for an audience. Focus on those two, and bring the others along. Wish me luck.

The Matter of Life and Death

In the night, there is time to contemplate matters of life and death

At 71 years, one may find that the subject of  life and death is a regular and ongoing contemplation. At least this one does. Many humans live to 90 or more these days, yet at 71 one wonders how many more years will be given to this particular life.

I wrote a song about death for my musical revue A New Wrinkle. It's titled Death is Right Around the Corner, which it is. Ignoring or denying death is quite usual in this era, but I felt it was essential to have a song about death in the revue.



Part of the song goes:

"Late at night when in the dark
the whole world disappears
there are times when I can hear
the radiant music of the spheres
a resonance that’s calling me
from time into eternity."

I have been contemplating death for many years because I am a Buddhist. Buddhists have an ongoing practice of meditating on impermanence and the immanence of death. We don't know when death will come, the teachings tell us. Last night at 3:45am I spent an hour or two in the dark reflecting on my life and my certain passing from this world. This is something that pops up from time to time in my nocturnal experience.

I like lying quietly in the dark. I am glad to have the time and quiet to muse about dying. And I know that there is a world of difference between contemplating death and actually dying. When I gave birth to my second daughter, I thought in the midst of the oceanic and all-absorbing experience of birth, "Oh, this must be what dying is like, this extinction of everything external into the gigantic pulse of the moment, the sensation of being poised at the edge of life and death. "If only I could practice this experience a few more times," I thought to myself then, "I could become more skilled in letting go."

I didn't have the practice of birthing any more children, but I do practice what I think of as a sacred exit strategy. It's the Tibetan Buddhist practice of Phowa, in which one visualizes one's consciousness shooting out of the top of the head, the fontanelle area, and merging with the immeasurable light, in the form of the Buddha Amitabha. I've been fortunate also to have had Tibetan teachings over the years on the dissolution of the earthly elements at the time of death and various emotional//psychological experiences that tend to arise with these aspects of our letting go.

You don't have to be a Buddhist of course to recognize how important a territory death is, especially in the later years. Carl Jung once said, "Shrinking away from death is something unhealthy and abnormal which robs the second half of life of its purpose."  In this film clip, Jung talks about death as a fulfillment of life.

Emma Thompson in the movie Wit

 It so happened that yesterday my friend Diane gave me a DVD of Wit,  a movie starring Emma Thompson playing an intellectual scholar of the poetry of John Donne. This woman discovers that she has stage 4 ovarian cancer. We are witness to her experience in hospital during a radical course of cancer treatment, which has no useful effect on her cancer. We see  her pride, isolation, wit, humiliation, regret and sorrow. We are privy to the crisp impersonality of much of hospital culture. We share in her experience as she realizes that she is dying. This is quite a profound movie, wonderfully acted by Emma Thompson. I highly recommend it.

Isn't it a great puzzlement how we appear in this world from simple joining of sperm and egg, how we come in with particular gifts and limitation, live this life and then vanish, leaving our body behind?

Marcel Proust on his deathbed

 When Allen Ginsberg died, I remember seeing a photo of him on his deathbed, right after his passing. This photo, which I could no longer find in my Google browsing today was published I think by some Buddhist magazine. Though you might find it strange, I found that photo comforting and generous. How like Ginsberg I thought, a poet whose life was so outrageous and provocative, to request publication of his deathbed photo in a culture so fearful of looking at death. I felt comforted by his generous last gesture to me, a stranger and a fan.

Everyone dies. Beauty, fame, wit, must all be surrendered up.

So it seems to me to be a great time for giving things away and practicing letting go. I am grateful to be part of the sage-ing community, as its founder, Rabbi Zalman Schacter, points out the importance of various later life tasks, including preparing for death.

Of course,  it's not advisable to climb into the coffin while still alive! (I will be cremated however.)

These later years can be a time of fullness, deeper understanding, growth and healing. I am such a different person from who I was in my earlier years. Though far from sainthood still, I have learned a great deal about compassion and kindness.

This morning, pouring cream in my coffee, I am immersed in the world of the living.

What shall I do with these years? How shall I live, and where? I think about my friend Shari, who is on retreat in a monastery in Nepal. Retreat is a compelling possibility, as is moving to Nepal, a country so enriched by Buddhism.

But for now, I am sitting on the couch in my cottage in Oregon, looking at this photo of Santa's clothes hung up to air out on the clothesline of a charming old wooden lodge. I imagine Santa is sitting inside by a good blazing fire.

It's the holiday season and the winter solstice is approaching. This winter, some of the buzz is about the Mayan calendar shift. I think I will be learning more about this topic because next week at this time, I will be boarding a cruise ship that will take my friend Serena and I into the Gulf of Mexico and down to Mayan ruins in the Yucatan. The cruise organizers call the adventure the Mayan Galactic Alignment. I am the kind receiver of Serena's gift, being her guest on this journey. I imagine it will be pretty darned interesting.

Isn't life amazing, strange and wonderful? I find it to be so.