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Kimiko Karpoff - Full moon walk
I imagined a quiet full moon walk. But street lights and fireworks kyboshed that idea. Here in the city it's hard to find darkness. And here on a watched border in particular. And yet, I can hear an owl in the distance, on the other side of the forbidden park.
Ahh, the sound of that owl delights me and fills me with a kind of hopefulness .... .... As if the owl is saying “We will prevail. We’re here. I’m here.” It’s calling to the full moon. And it keeps calling, despite the fireworks.
It keeps calling.
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It was the eyes catching the light that caught my attention as my headlights panned through the turn. And I wasn't sure if what I was looking at was live. I actually thought it was something like a plastic decoy sitting by the side of the road and had this momentary wondering about how that decoy got there. Until, as I watched in my rearview mirror, it turned its head. Owl.
I pulled over half expecting it to be gone by the time I stopped, but it was still standing there, watching me. I carefully got out of the car. As I did that I gentled my energy and sent Owl a blessing and a greeting. I walked a little bit closer. And still Owl stood there.
I did not have my camera but did have my phone. I said “Is it OK? Thank you,” as I took a photo. But it really was too dark even with the street light. Mostly I was curious and concerned. Was it injured? And so I asked, “Are you OK little one?” Owl watched me and then a car went by and it looked after the car and then turned back to me.
I stepped a little bit closer and sat on the curb right across from it so that I was more eye level. I looked to see if I could tell whether Owl was injured. And I don't know about owls really, but it didn't look injured. It was just still there. Why? And so I simply watched and sent it loving energy. There was something sort of sticking out the front under Owl’s body. I wondered what I was seeing, if it was feathers that had been injured. I couldn't tell. But there were no obvious strange angles, there was no blood. Owl continued to watch me, watch the various cars that went by, not very many, this is after all a little bit of a rural-ish area.
After a while I noticed someone walking up the road with 2 dogs on a leash. I quietly stood hoping to get his attention, but he was on his phone walking and texting and paying no attention. The dogs hadn't yet noticed Owl. When he finally got close and looked up I gestured “Shhh” and slowly moved to indicate across the road. By this time the dogs had seen and turned toward Owl. The guy finally looked just as Owl lifted up and flew away. As Owl rose I could tell that what I had seen earlier was that Owl had something white and furry in its claws. Dinner. And then was gone.
When I was reflecting on Owl this morning I got a sense that this interaction carried a message connected to my Samurai, my Seiki lineage, my ancestors guiding me in ways to look and to pay attention and to learn. I know having Owl appear to me in this way is not random and is not to be taken lightly.
We often think of owls as being wise. The attributes of an owl include the ability to turn its head 360 degrees to see all the way around, to look in every direction. And owls are night creatures. Night time is when they hunt, when it's dark, so owls teach something about the gifts of the night, nourishment of the night, learning to see in darkness.
I remember a story my cousin told about our Samurai Grandfather who studied judo and kendo as well as Seiki. My cousin was about 5 years old. One night Grandfather was practicing with a wooden sword and my cousin was curiously creeping down the hall to watch. Grandfather's back was turned to him as he crept closer and closer and closer. And just as he got to the doorway Grandfather turned and with a large howl raised the sword and started to chase him back up the hallway. It was as if Grandfather could see behind him. I have other friends who have studied in other traditions of martial arts who have talked about their Masters who could also see behind them. ....
So learning to see all the way around. Owls hunt at night, can see in the dark. So learning to see the gifts of the darkness. Owls can also blend into the trees or whatever is the backdrop of the place that those particular owls come from. An owl standing still often cannot be seen. So learning to be invisible, to be still enough to be invisible. In Japan owls are symbols of luck and also protection from hardship or suffering as well as symbols of knowledge.
I honour Owl's teachings and will continue to listen and learn ....
Just to sit and have that moment, eye level to beautiful Owl. Wow. Thank you Owl. People from Indigenous traditions often say “all my relations” because we are connected to all things. So even as I think of Owl’s connection to my ancestors, Owl itself is my ancestor. I am grateful for the wisdom of all my ancestors ....
I pulled over half expecting it to be gone by the time I stopped, but it was still standing there, watching me. I carefully got out of the car. As I did that I gentled my energy and sent Owl a blessing and a greeting. I walked a little bit closer. And still Owl stood there.
I did not have my camera but did have my phone. I said “Is it OK? Thank you,” as I took a photo. But it really was too dark even with the street light. Mostly I was curious and concerned. Was it injured? And so I asked, “Are you OK little one?” Owl watched me and then a car went by and it looked after the car and then turned back to me.
I stepped a little bit closer and sat on the curb right across from it so that I was more eye level. I looked to see if I could tell whether Owl was injured. And I don't know about owls really, but it didn't look injured. It was just still there. Why? And so I simply watched and sent it loving energy. There was something sort of sticking out the front under Owl’s body. I wondered what I was seeing, if it was feathers that had been injured. I couldn't tell. But there were no obvious strange angles, there was no blood. Owl continued to watch me, watch the various cars that went by, not very many, this is after all a little bit of a rural-ish area.
After a while I noticed someone walking up the road with 2 dogs on a leash. I quietly stood hoping to get his attention, but he was on his phone walking and texting and paying no attention. The dogs hadn't yet noticed Owl. When he finally got close and looked up I gestured “Shhh” and slowly moved to indicate across the road. By this time the dogs had seen and turned toward Owl. The guy finally looked just as Owl lifted up and flew away. As Owl rose I could tell that what I had seen earlier was that Owl had something white and furry in its claws. Dinner. And then was gone.
When I was reflecting on Owl this morning I got a sense that this interaction carried a message connected to my Samurai, my Seiki lineage, my ancestors guiding me in ways to look and to pay attention and to learn. I know having Owl appear to me in this way is not random and is not to be taken lightly.
We often think of owls as being wise. The attributes of an owl include the ability to turn its head 360 degrees to see all the way around, to look in every direction. And owls are night creatures. Night time is when they hunt, when it's dark, so owls teach something about the gifts of the night, nourishment of the night, learning to see in darkness.
I remember a story my cousin told about our Samurai Grandfather who studied judo and kendo as well as Seiki. My cousin was about 5 years old. One night Grandfather was practicing with a wooden sword and my cousin was curiously creeping down the hall to watch. Grandfather's back was turned to him as he crept closer and closer and closer. And just as he got to the doorway Grandfather turned and with a large howl raised the sword and started to chase him back up the hallway. It was as if Grandfather could see behind him. I have other friends who have studied in other traditions of martial arts who have talked about their Masters who could also see behind them. ....
So learning to see all the way around. Owls hunt at night, can see in the dark. So learning to see the gifts of the darkness. Owls can also blend into the trees or whatever is the backdrop of the place that those particular owls come from. An owl standing still often cannot be seen. So learning to be invisible, to be still enough to be invisible. In Japan owls are symbols of luck and also protection from hardship or suffering as well as symbols of knowledge.
I honour Owl's teachings and will continue to listen and learn ....
Just to sit and have that moment, eye level to beautiful Owl. Wow. Thank you Owl. People from Indigenous traditions often say “all my relations” because we are connected to all things. So even as I think of Owl’s connection to my ancestors, Owl itself is my ancestor. I am grateful for the wisdom of all my ancestors ....
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Kimiko Karpoff - Reflections on my dad
It's my dad's birthday today and I’ve been thinking about how young he would have been when he fathered me. Of course I have no actual memories of that time. But I imagine him a bit through my neices and nephews and my own son who are all kind of around that age he would have been ....
It's .... O, it's fun to imagine and also strange .... to imagine my dad, not even 30 years old, with a family .... My dad is kind of this odd combination of, ummm, well, not exactly institutions not the right word but he, you know he did all the proper adult things, got married, had kids, bought a house, had a job. all that. But also a little bit of an adventurous soul. When we were young, I was 3 years old, he took 6 months off of work and took the family to Japan. And when he was about 50, he and my mom took off and went to the South Pacific .... He retired somewhat early but never really stopped working until more recently the last sort of 5 or so years maybe, well into his seventies he kept working ....
I wonder if his life was as he imagined it might be. I know for me my life is not as I imagined it might be. Because we just don't know what the world is going to throw at us. As much as we plan, as much as we do the things we're supposed to or not supposed to do .... Other things emerge.
There's a picture of me and my dad when I'm just tiny, a little baby looking in the mirror. And he looks so young there. Of course I guess I do too I was a baby. Two young old souls looking in the mirror.
Mirrors are a bit of a, bit of a device because they allow us to see in a way we could otherwise not see. We never truly see ourselves because we're always looking at ourselves backwards through the mirror .... Mirrors, looking glasses, take us into places that are unexpected. And they are also portals. I wonder what my dad was thinking when he looked in that mirror holding his baby daughter. I wonder what I was thinking .... ....
Sometimes we give my dad a hard time. Well not even sometimes, kind of all the time. And he takes it with good humor .... He has taken many things in life with good humor .... He has welcomed people into the family .... .... ....
Yeah, you know my dad sometimes seems a bit, is taciturn the word? But he has taught me an awful lot about hospitality, about grace .... About both living within and without of the box. Those are good things to have learned. Thanks dad ....
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Kimiko Karpoff - Flapping gently / connections
Reading the latest edition of Parabola Magazine on Balance, I was struck by 2 encounters. One was the brief retelling of a story of, perhaps a temple acolyte, who upon coming into work is berated by his boss for causing someone's murder and in a particular town. And the the man defended himself saying well I haven't even ever been to that particular town. And his boss said that is true, but you are energetically connected to someone who is and when you yelled at your wife, when you did not prevent yourself from yelling at your wife, that energy impacted that other person whose energy came out in a way that caused him to take another's life. So you are to blame ....
Wow, I mean that's a pretty big, Um .... for me in any case it, it's kind of rough to have to wrap your head around that. And it was reminding me of that notion that I'm sure many of us have heard about when the butterfly, butterfly flaps its wings then a storm occurs on the other side of the world.
Maybe it's not that the butterfly, that light gentle movement of the butterfly causes a bit of a breeze which then picks up and carries on and eventually picking up more energy becomes a storm. It may simply be that the butterfly is connected to something. The wind that creates storm. Or it may simply be that butterflies and storms both happen. I don't profess to know that .... But it is certainly something that makes me thoughtful. Because I do believe that how we carry our energy and the energy that we send out into the world does impact the world. We've all experienced someone else's good mood or bad mood, stepped on an elevator with someone who made us immediately uncomfortable even while they were smiling at us ....
And then the other encounter had to do with connection to stars, to the divinity of stars, like a Core Star. And then how that lives within us, our own Core Star, part of the great All in All, the Universal Oneness but living also within us. We are within the Oneness and the Oneness is within us .... And again, there’s a question then of how .... How do I live? In knowing this, how does this call me to live? How does this invite me to live? .... Compel me?....
And then, if we lived, if I live in that deeply spiritual reality of being within the Oneness and the Oneness within me, that Core Star is equally out in the infinite and within me .... .... .... If this is true .... how do I bring that Oneness with me into the world? Huh. It’s funny as I started off that thought I had a question and then I lost the question so the question I just asked I'm not sure was the same one that I started with.
But it also then was reminding me of a quote and I cannot, in this moment, think to whom to attribute the quote. A relatively contemporary spiritual person. But I'm not sure how contemporary. But what I remember about it is this person’s comment about “I used to pray for 2 hours every morning in order to prepare for the day and now I prepare for 2 hours every morning for a day of prayer.”* Such a beautiful turn around. Speaking so specifically to the purposefulness of how we walk in the world. And also, the purpose of a deep and rich spiritual life .... “I used to pray for 2 hours every morning to prepare for the day, to prepare to walk in the world. And now I prepare for 2 hours every morning for a day of prayer.”
We continue to walk in the world but how do we walk? What do we bring with us? What energy do we share .... ?
~
* It was John Shelby Spong.
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Sunday is often the day that I spend the morning in deep meditation. But this morning I just somehow couldn’t get to it . .... So instead I .... .... did the spiritual practice of sitting on the porch steps out to the back garden rubbing mink oil into my boots. Not with a cloth as the bottle suggests but with my fingers. Rubbing that oil, watching it soak in, making sure that it got in all the little seams and around the edges.
And as I did that I thought some of the things that I've been missing. Sitting at the window looking out at the Fraser river while drinking my coffee in the morning .... Sometimes on a Sunday night walking down to the Heritage Grill and sitting at the back of the club with Richard drinking a glass of wine and watching Mike Vaneyes with whatever configuration of band he was with that day, joyfully playing music ....
Just the comfort of having a companion in house, someone to .... Not even someone to engage in deep conversation necessarily, but just somebody who walked through life together with me .... ....
I also thought of some of the things that I'm grateful for. This back porch and the garden. The beauty of this place and the long walks I've been able to take, taking my camera out for a long walk. The fresh air after the rain .... Listening to the birds .... The local Sunday market in White Rock where they now have apples now that it’s fall, and the apples are so good .... A summer of farm produce that continues now into the fall.
The solitude of a Sunday morning sitting in deep meditation. And the truth that some meditations happen when we polish our boots ....
And as I did that I thought some of the things that I've been missing. Sitting at the window looking out at the Fraser river while drinking my coffee in the morning .... Sometimes on a Sunday night walking down to the Heritage Grill and sitting at the back of the club with Richard drinking a glass of wine and watching Mike Vaneyes with whatever configuration of band he was with that day, joyfully playing music ....
Just the comfort of having a companion in house, someone to .... Not even someone to engage in deep conversation necessarily, but just somebody who walked through life together with me .... ....
I also thought of some of the things that I'm grateful for. This back porch and the garden. The beauty of this place and the long walks I've been able to take, taking my camera out for a long walk. The fresh air after the rain .... Listening to the birds .... The local Sunday market in White Rock where they now have apples now that it’s fall, and the apples are so good .... A summer of farm produce that continues now into the fall.
The solitude of a Sunday morning sitting in deep meditation. And the truth that some meditations happen when we polish our boots ....
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Kimiko Karpoff - The Rutted Path: eyes on the mountain
As I step into the bath I have this image of myself walking down the rut of a dirt road. I can even see the wire and post fence that runs along on the far side of a wide ditch full of weeds on the one side, and an easement of the road, also weedy, on the other side. I....I have often had these images, these visions of journeys, but in the past couple of years they've mostly been either, I guess helpful in allowing me to understand where I'm at or even, a year ago, making a fairly significant and major decision to leave the job that I was doing. So I’m curious about why I’m walking down a rut on a road ....
As I sink into this walk I have to say it doesn't feel entirely like that kind of rut we think in when we're stuck. ‘Cause I can see myself walking it as if I’m walking like a tight rope but playfully, arms out, one foot in front of the other as if I'm balancing. But of course I’m not going to fall off of anything maybe fall out of something.
And I don't feel, mmm .... I don’t feel anxious about being in this rut. I'm just in some ways using it as a way to follow the road without having to entirely watch my feet because I can feel the little path in the middle of this.
That's helpful, actually, to understand that in this moment the rut doesn't have to be something keeping me stuck but something keeping me on a path that for some reason I'm walking on and enjoying looking at the distance, the edges.
When I look down the road there's an openness. And I see off in the distance a mountain .... A mountain that is tall, peaked, inviting. And in this moment I am just continuing to walk toward it along this momentary path, this momentary country road .... Somehow knowing that there will be a point at which suddenly I and the mountain will meet.
But in the meantime I can simply enjoy walking on the ground and being where I am .... meeting who I meet along the way and seeing what presents itself on this particular part of the path .... ....
As I sink into this walk I have to say it doesn't feel entirely like that kind of rut we think in when we're stuck. ‘Cause I can see myself walking it as if I’m walking like a tight rope but playfully, arms out, one foot in front of the other as if I'm balancing. But of course I’m not going to fall off of anything maybe fall out of something.
And I don't feel, mmm .... I don’t feel anxious about being in this rut. I'm just in some ways using it as a way to follow the road without having to entirely watch my feet because I can feel the little path in the middle of this.
That's helpful, actually, to understand that in this moment the rut doesn't have to be something keeping me stuck but something keeping me on a path that for some reason I'm walking on and enjoying looking at the distance, the edges.
When I look down the road there's an openness. And I see off in the distance a mountain .... A mountain that is tall, peaked, inviting. And in this moment I am just continuing to walk toward it along this momentary path, this momentary country road .... Somehow knowing that there will be a point at which suddenly I and the mountain will meet.
But in the meantime I can simply enjoy walking on the ground and being where I am .... meeting who I meet along the way and seeing what presents itself on this particular part of the path .... ....
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A spoken musing recorded as I prepared for the day.
I watch my body change, soften, thicken. Change that might happen over time, that you might expect to see happen over time condensed to this short time of pandemic. It's seems like my body changes with every phase of my life. And while that sounds like an obvious statement I’m not talking every age as you get older things happen, not that change, although that happened too. Puberty at youth, menopause within the last few years. This is different.
When Paul was in palliative care and in hospice, I became very thin. Almost as if I was trying to be in a solidarity I could not possibly be with my husband who could no longer eat, who had cancer taking every ounce of calories and nutrition out of his body.
I could eat but often didn't simply because of the circumstance of being in the hospital. People fed me, for sure, but I ate much less. And I didn't even notice until the day after he died and I was dressing for the tribute show and I put on a skirt which immediately fell down low on my hips and I was afraid it would not even stay on.
And then after that, having the time and also needing to keep busy and to keep active, going to yoga five days a week, I stayed slim but built muscle and became strong. And so during that time I was fit and sculpted.
And then pandemic. And for a short time, maybe even as much as 2 months? I say with a question mark. I was able to, or I did, keep up with some amount of exercise with yoga with weight training. And then it just fell away. And here we are hitting the 6 month mark and my body is pillowy. Soft. My thighs, I can feel them rubbing together in a different way. And when I bend over I can feel just the folds of softness in my torso.
Oddly enough though, this softening, this shifting of muscle to flesh, has not fleshed out my bosom. I think it was the muscle that was keeping my breasts bright and my bosom has become smaller, flatter, less perky.
I don't notice this by way of complaint, it is simply noticing. This is simply wondering about how our bodies respond to and reflect the different phases of our lives. When I was in that liminal time after Paul died and going to yoga I had a sense of open-ness even as I had a sense of unknowing-ness. There were summers where I realized that I did not need to be responsible for anyone but myself. And I could go away and not worry about whether I came home. I started carrying a sleeping bag in the back of my car because of the one weekend that I ended up sleeping under beach towels in the mountains near Squamish. It gets cold in the mountains even on a hot day.
And now I'm here and I have a responsibility for my father-in-law who has dementia. And like everyone I've been home. The yoga studio closed and now it's far away even though it's open. And I have not started my own yoga practice, somehow finding that just not . . .something I just haven't been able to do in this moment.
We didn't know how long this moment would be. And we really don't really know how much longer it will be. But it seems like after 6 months I'm probably here for a while .... Noticing the change in Bill. Noticing this physical change in myself ....
My body holding my life ....
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Today is my birthday. At no time could I have envisioned my life today. Yet here I am stepping into my 56th year feeling as if I am in the exact right place and moment.
Not in my own home, work re-visioned on the fly to respond to the global pandemic, yet offering my highest self through energy, word and image, and care for another.
There are moments I feel alone. And moments of deep connection. Moments of challenge. And moments of healing.
Last night I sat reflecting on gratitudes. There are many.
Life is not an easy path. Its lessons have eaten at the edges. And yet, BEAUTY.
Blessed be.
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The blueberry bushes in the front yard are at their peak. Every day or so I pick the colander full of the plump, sweet berries. Blueberries embody summer. They taste of sunshine, earth and summer rain, held in juicy sweetness.
The other day while picking, I found a small, perfect feather cupped among the leaves. It looked to be from one of the tiny birds that lives in the neighbours hedge. I am not a birder, but perhaps a wren? I left it there, expecting it would blow away.
I had forgotten about the feather when I went picking a few days later. For the second time its presence among the berries surprised and delighted me. This time I saw it as an offering. I accepted the gift and added it to my altar.
This morning, out in the back garden, I was startled by a rustling in the peas. This was not wind, it was as if something was in the peas, a critter of some sort, but one that did not run away at my curious approach. It took me a moment to see that there was a wren in the vines. I could see that it was somehow tangled in the netting.
As I came back out from the house with a pair of scissors, I stopped to smooth out my energy and ensure it was calm and gentle. Through it I let the wren know that I was coming to help. It stilled, but then beat its wings in an effort to fly away as I came right up to where it was snagged. Slowly I snipped that netting around its foot and wings. It flew up, only to become entangled on the other side. As I released it again, it flew into the netting at the end.
I kept thinking of the birds who hit windows because they can’t see the glass. These are consequences of our human ways of doing things. This fine black netting was almost invisible. I clipped that netting and watched as it happened again.
This time I took the scissors and cut a big hole in the spot where the wren had last been, opening it up wide. When I once more snipped the netting where it was now ensnared, sister (brother?) wren flew for the hole and was gone.
I hold the feather from the blueberries with a new reverence. For a moment I thought it was a gift for helping the wren, that somehow the universe knew about this in advance. But I realize it was given to remind me that we live in symbiosis with all life. My call to healing is not only for my human sisters and brothers, but all of creation. All my relations.
The other day while picking, I found a small, perfect feather cupped among the leaves. It looked to be from one of the tiny birds that lives in the neighbours hedge. I am not a birder, but perhaps a wren? I left it there, expecting it would blow away.
I had forgotten about the feather when I went picking a few days later. For the second time its presence among the berries surprised and delighted me. This time I saw it as an offering. I accepted the gift and added it to my altar.
This morning, out in the back garden, I was startled by a rustling in the peas. This was not wind, it was as if something was in the peas, a critter of some sort, but one that did not run away at my curious approach. It took me a moment to see that there was a wren in the vines. I could see that it was somehow tangled in the netting.
As I came back out from the house with a pair of scissors, I stopped to smooth out my energy and ensure it was calm and gentle. Through it I let the wren know that I was coming to help. It stilled, but then beat its wings in an effort to fly away as I came right up to where it was snagged. Slowly I snipped that netting around its foot and wings. It flew up, only to become entangled on the other side. As I released it again, it flew into the netting at the end.
I kept thinking of the birds who hit windows because they can’t see the glass. These are consequences of our human ways of doing things. This fine black netting was almost invisible. I clipped that netting and watched as it happened again.
This time I took the scissors and cut a big hole in the spot where the wren had last been, opening it up wide. When I once more snipped the netting where it was now ensnared, sister (brother?) wren flew for the hole and was gone.
I hold the feather from the blueberries with a new reverence. For a moment I thought it was a gift for helping the wren, that somehow the universe knew about this in advance. But I realize it was given to remind me that we live in symbiosis with all life. My call to healing is not only for my human sisters and brothers, but all of creation. All my relations.
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I don't know what ate this leaf. I suspect it's not considered ideal to have something nibbling holes in you. And yet the holes have rendered it extraordinarily beautiful.
I wonder if it's the same for us. I wonder if our ragged edges are beautiful. You wouldn't want so many as to cause irreparable damage, not the whole tree. Just enough to see that it's ok, that we're fine despite our wounds. That in fact, wounds and all we are extraordinarily beautiful.
Join my Virtual Healing Circles Monday mornings at 9 a.m. and Thursday evenings at 7 p.m. pacific. Learn more at the Good Vibrations: the Energy of Resilience facebook page, check out the Healing link on this site or drop me a note by e-mail.
#semiahmoobay #peacearchbeach #beach #beachwalk #beachlife #pacificocean #sunsets #sunsetphotography #spectacularsunset #nightsky #beautifulsunsets #awesomesunset #urbannature #inspiration #beauty
I wonder if it's the same for us. I wonder if our ragged edges are beautiful. You wouldn't want so many as to cause irreparable damage, not the whole tree. Just enough to see that it's ok, that we're fine despite our wounds. That in fact, wounds and all we are extraordinarily beautiful.
Join my Virtual Healing Circles Monday mornings at 9 a.m. and Thursday evenings at 7 p.m. pacific. Learn more at the Good Vibrations: the Energy of Resilience facebook page, check out the Healing link on this site or drop me a note by e-mail.
#semiahmoobay #peacearchbeach #beach #beachwalk #beachlife #pacificocean #sunsets #sunsetphotography #spectacularsunset #nightsky #beautifulsunsets #awesomesunset #urbannature #inspiration #beauty
