Thursday, December 27, 2012

What is Journey True North?

People frequently ask me, "what is your private practice, Journey True North?  What do you do?"

It is a business expectation that all CEO's or executives have an "elevator speech" prepared to present to people when they ask about your company, product, mission, etc.

Creating such a canned answer is a difficult task to accomplish when you have an organization that aims to help people reconnect to their own soul purpose.  Last night at Christmas dinner a friend of my husband's, whom I have not seen for a few years, stopped by somewhat unexpectantly. James, my husband, called me over to where they were sitting and said, "Hey Babe, can you tell Jim what Journey True North is?"

Again, I was face-to-face with my own trepidation in describing a process, set of material and methods used that allow people to "re-member" their dreams and live into their soul purpose.

I said to Jim, "Remember when you were a little boy? Do you remember what you dreams were? Well, Journey True North uses depth psychology, mythology, storytelling, guided imagery, and traditional indigenous medicine work to help others re-collect their soul purpose."  Yet even this explanation felt wholly inadequate.

I am now formulating the essence of Journey True North into a stable and confident sound byte, that three second commercial, a message that satisfies my need to convey what I do and what I am called to do it in this lifetime. This work I bring forth into the world is not so much learned as it is given and conveyed through Spirit and my Creator.

Journey True North comes straight from my soul, and has been percolating in there for over thirty years.  It began with a women's meditation group which lead me into the fascinating world of Godesses including Innana, Hecate, Kali, Pele, Vestia, Aurora, and the Mother Mary.  Then I was directed into the works of Clarissa Pinkola-Estes, Carlos Castaneda  Starhawk, Carl Jung, Angeles Arrien, Vicky Noble, the Black Madonna  shamanic studies, mythology and depth psychology at the Pacifica Graduate Institute, red tent ceremonies, vision quests, women's circles, and James Hillman.

Now, after thirty years of mixing this conncotion, I am ready to share this personalized micro brew with those who are thirsty for the knowledge of their own soul purpose and how to escavate the own personal Diamon.


Spiral Black Stallion, #0571-7D

© 2012  James W. Murray, all rights reserved.


(click image for larger version)

Details: October 28, 2012; Canon 7D; f/16 @ 1/60 sec; +1/3 EV; ISO 800;
Canon EF 100mm f/2.8 Macro USM


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Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Holiday Hysterectomy

My husband James and I have been visiting Northern California for several days. It's been over a week since I had a hysterectomy. It was a quiet little procedure, conducted through the vagina, requiring no abdominal incisions or complications.

It was almost like haviung a wart removed.  In and out, literally. In one minute I was a able bodied female mammal capable of birth and breast feeding.  Now, without doubt, I am incapable of reproduction. 

Having my uterus removed was a very big deal for me.

  It required a lot of spiritual and mental preparation to accept that I could never ever become pregnant again. I have forever lost the ability to bring life through my body.  I am never again going bleed in the cycle of life/death/rebirth.  I cannot deny that I am physically incapable of producing human life. I am now a Crone, even though I am technically not of age to earn this regal status.

Now please don't misunderstand me:  I am forever grateful to be rid of unexplained pelvic pain and dysfunctional bleeding. I am looking forward to life beyond hysterectomy.

I do have to publicly acknowledge and call into the forefront Mr. Joseph Moes, and all the gifts he bestowed upon me at thirteen, and to my potential children, and my husband's hopes of being a father.  I do have to say that until December 10, 2012, I carried within my uterus the pain and suffering of all girls and women who have been scarred and abused.  With this sudden excavation, I am free of both the tissue and the cellular memories that held me hostage and kept me in bitter despair and war with my beautiful body.  


I want to thank my beautiful body for being productive and carrying me through the hardest chapters of my life.  I want to thank my sisters Donna and Tricia for helping me to be strong at a time it would have been easy to slit my wrists.  I want to Thank Luanna Wendell for driving me to Kaiser, for she was the only girl on the block with a Driver's License.  

I want to thank Monica Gubrud, Tookie Dunfield, Diane Pini, and my therapist at the Sunnyvale Mental Health Clinic for keeping me alive during this time, a period when it would have been much easier to leave this planet.  

And last but not least,  I want to thank Hannah Mae for waiting until I was ready to be her Mom. I believe strongly that children choose their parents and she had ample opportunities to be born. She chose me.  For that, am forever grateful for her love.


 
Untitled (Mother and Child), #3721


(c)2009, 2012  James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: June 20, 2009; Canon 20D; f/5.6 @ 1/15 sec; -2/3 EV; ISO 800;
Canon EF-S 18-55mm f/3.5-5.6 @  55mm.

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Friday, December 14, 2012

A Golden Beam of Light Beckons

On a recent weekend some friends and I congregated to spend time in the small community of  Pescadero. Hidden between Santa Cruz and Half Moon Bay, Pescardero is a unique coastal community.  The old restaurant/saloon Duartes, serving the best clam chowder on the West Coast, is inland and located in what some might call  the town center.

Pescadero rests minutes from neighboring La Honda, which features a most interesting and eclectic General Store.  There is always a small band playing blues or rock and roll on the weekends.  You can drink a handcrafted local micro brew while shopping local art and crafts, books and homemade foods.

Yet it is Pescadero that offers one brilliant historical site which attracts us here for the weekend, and that is the lighthouse at pigeon point.  We came to have a slumber party at the Pigeon Point Lighthouse Hostel.  Ten amazing women along side the Pacific Ocean, watching transient male whales en route to warmer waters for the winter.

The weather in December was beautiful.  California coastal atmospherics at their best.  With less than three weeks weeks before Christmas I wore shorts and a sports shirt . The wind was crisp, and the cold ocean water leapt to kiss our cheeks and lips throughout the weekend. It was absolute beauty and perfection.  Fresh ocean winds and sunny warmth by day.  Billions of stars at night.

At the hostel we had one whole house to ourselves, stocked with memory foam beds wrapped in rubber-like permanent sheets.  The bunk beds located in 3 rooms allowed for hang out space and proved to be quite comfortable.  The living space and kitchen area provided additional cooking, preparation and relaxation areas. There was music, bingo, drinking, laughter, napping and reading going on around the clock.  Women braiding hair, massaging backs and painting nails.  The exact right balance of sound and silence. 

At a time of the year when the world can be very busy and frenetic, we all came to the coast to be together and experience rejuvenation by reorienting ourselves to our own true north stars.

Its easy to overlook the gifts in our life, as we run from thing to thing everyday.  We keep ourselves and our children ever involved in activities, so much so that we run the risk of missing  life by focusing on the chaos.  I have been unplugging from the grid of activities for the past three years.  I have been dismantling my façade one activity at a time.  I have been growing into the awareness of  my blessings as I step off the merry-go-round and touch ground in my own soul.

The lessons I am learning focus precisely on my people/friends, and my family, parents (still living!) and siblings who have persevered through so much LIFE.  We migrate now to one another in a way that is inspiring and supportive.  My people/friends/family are great teachers to me.

My daughter, Hannah, and my husband James are my constants, like the North Star — guiding, shining and singing throughout my life.  Both Hannah, James and my mother are Pisces.  They sing their own songs, practice art and photography, and are incredibly talented.  I am in awe of these amazing creatures. My mother is 87, my husband 53 and my daughter just 16 years old, yet they each offer the world their own unique talents and beauty.  I am so grateful and lucky to be in their presence.

Today, I give thanks to Mother Earth and all of her relations.  I give thanks for the love, friendship, health, financial freedom, insight, gifts, memories and every minute of this day.   My cup overflows with goodness and joy.


Day's Finale, Pigeon Pt., CA, #4201/2-7D

© 2012  James W. Murray, all rights reserved.


(click image for larger version)

Details: December 10, 2011; Canon 7D; f/8 @ 1/664 sec; —2 EV; ISO 250;
Tokina AT-X Pro 11-16mm f/2.8 DX @ 16mm

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Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Thanksgiving: A Way of Life

Recently while visiting family in bucolic upper state New York I was reminded of the importance of family.

There were times in my life when I turned my back on my family. I instead worked hard to adopt others, any others, as my family. My distortions regarding my relatives were based strongly in my ill-perceived understandings of my heritage. I knew only what I was able to remember, and in large part these reflections were warped.  My self-centeredness allowed my ego to distort everything that did not meet the minimum requirements of being sufficiently sorrowful or harmful to be cast out of the memory cache.  I had little to replay except misperceived scenes and unrelenting feelings of being wholly unloved.

And then something magical occurred:  I grew up.

The tyranny of my heritage and overestimated childhood sorrows were slowly replaced by new opportunities — to love, and to reacquaint myself with family.

It was only after I gave birth to my own daughter that I could truly appreciate my mother for all she endured, and my father for his steadfast presence.  In spite of all that I deemed unworthy, there was a shining essence that would not dim. I tried to ignore and tarnish their golden presence, but it was unrelenting.

I recognized the magnificent rich cultural heritage of my family through the eyes of my growing baby girl.  After all the years I had spent bemoaning my childhood, I lost precious moments with my parents and siblings. The genuine gift of maturity and healing is the urge to connect with people and places that came before in our lives. I am filled with gratitude that I did not lose any of these opportunities permanently. Nothing was done that could not be undone by restoring my relationships, if they were willing.

I spent significant effort rebuilding those important  bonds. It paid off. Today I have real connections with people I love, those related by blood, and those not.

We all are blessed with family. To the extent we allow people in to our lives, is proportional to the love we experience.  It is available us anytime we wish.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Turtle Trio, #6597-7D

© 2012 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details:  March 24, 2012; Canon 7D;  f/11 @ 1/500 sec; — 2/3 EV; ISO 500;
Canon EF 70-300mm  f/4-5.6 L USM  @155mm
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Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Choices

We are all offered choices.

We don't always like them. We don't always see them. We don't necessarily want to make them.

Choices were not something I understood, nor did any one provide much information in that regard. I used to believe that the way things are now is the way they always would be. It felt as though no matter what I did in my life, I could not effect my fate.

Today, I realize that I am a co-creator in this life, and I do have influence and input to my fate.

Choices are the pavement on the road to happy destiny.



Valley Road, #5383-7D

© 2012 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: January 21, 2012; Canon 7D; f/11 @ 1/1000 sec; —1 2/3 EV; ISO 160;
Tokina 11-16mm f/2.8 @16mm
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Friday, January 20, 2012

Life Happens

Last night I had a dream that I was living with my sister and her husband. It was an earlier time in my life. I could tell by the living conditions, and how we all looked. We were much younger. My brother-in-law is a very tall man, and in my dream he was the brother-in-law of yesteryear. A slim, tanned, tall man making his way down the long dark hallway in our home. It was summer. I felt the heat radiating in the room while the heat waves distorting my vision. I felt the cold glass in my hand, and shifting in the chair I heard the telltale sound of ice cubes.

When I woke up I went back in my mind to when we all lived together on Lone Tree Court. Even the street name ominously predicted my trajectory. In those days, as a lone tree, I was absent for my life. My drinking had become a way of being unavailable. I did not yet have the skills to live life as an adult.

Many lost moments.

Many times I failed to appear in my own life.

Many hazardous encounters.

Many parties with too many "spirits".

Back then I hoped to be a tragic writer, famous and irreverent. I liked the idea of a small dark room, a typewriter, cigarettes, and a bottle. But when it came down to actually doing something, I was incarcerated by the booze. A prisoner to King Alcohol and his mad denizens.

During this time my younger brother Jay was killed in a drunk driving accident. This tale is too sad to tell right now. However, the point being, I was unavailable to myself or my family during this tragedy because I was wandering lost in the fog of John Barleycorn's purgatory. The loss of my brother hurt so I drank more.

It matters little whether we are spinning a web of shiny perfection or one of sloppy disinterest — life happens. We cannot always retrieve what was missed the first time around. Sometimes we are forced to live with the reality that there is no going back for another try.

Today I know deep down inside, even when life hurts, or when I am really afraid, that no amount of distraction will help. The old idea here is to feel the pain. And by being in the pain, I am healed. How this works is truly unclear. But I am beginning to believe that the pain is an invitation for the Graces. When I try to "handle" everything on my own, I shut out the divine.

So just for today, I am reaching out my hands for strength greater than my own. Reaching in earnest always invites Grace, Peace and Hope.

May you be filled with these three Blessings as you walk your path today.



Dead Man's Drink, #2406-7D

© 2012 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: October 7, 2011; Canon 7D; f/5.6 @ 1/32 sec; —2/3 EV; ISO 1000;
Canon EF 70-300mm f/4-5.6 L IS USM @ 252mm
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Monday, January 16, 2012

Saying What is So

Truth is not subject to my interpretation. Truth is a matter of fact.
Largely my truth is based on my own perceptions, which are impacted by my feelings and my fears. Saying what is so for me means knowing what is so for me. That takes focus and willingness to slow down enough to listen to my inner truth. I have a small still voice within that does speak to me regularly. That does not mean I listen, however, nor that I pay attention.


How do you pay attention to the small still voice within yourself? How do you know the difference between that intuitive all knowing voice versus the cackle of the "committee" which is misguiding and can be very painful?


Spending time in meditation, quiet reflection and in the natural world is my way of listening and paying attention to the divine voice within. Sometimes the world gets going so fast and my mind and heart are spinning so out of control that it is very difficult to hear this small quiet voice.

Today I am holding myself softly in the knowledge that the intuitive voice I seek to know is within me and all around me, and I can open up to by slowing down and listening.




Ear, #7949-20D

© 2011 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: May 15, 2010; Canon 20D; f/11 @ 1/100 sec; —1/3 EV; ISO 200;
Canon EF 100mm f/2.8 Macro USM
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Monday, January 2, 2012

Resolutions

Each new year brings promise and hope to the world.


Every year we all experience moments of joy, sorrow, tragedy and comedy.

Recently I found myself wandering on the "Strip" in Las Vegas and saw a woman dressed up as Minny Mouse, slumped down on the sidewalk, drinking a beer and smoking a cigarette. I decided to post an image of the scene, taken by my husband, as part of the first 2012 blog entry of A Talking Stick.


The caricature, stark and tragic, struck my soul in such a way that I was forced to hold my breath. Afraid to exhale, I stood still in the midst of a seething sea of tourists and local personalities. In Vegas, where there is an acutely obvious divide of wealth and poverty, many people stopped to gawk, mock, laugh and take photographs. (Others — perhaps most — crowded past in oblivious pursuit of New Year's oblivion.)


In the vacant eyes of the distorted Disney phantom I saw humanity. She was the shadow of what we could all become. With enough fear and pain any one of us could be laid out on a public sidewalk, numbing our aching soul in front of the world, silently screaming "Yes, I have buried my dreams. Yes, I have lost any sight of my golden purpose. Yes, I have quit life."


The quiet truth is this: it takes courage to get up some mornings and engage the world. It takes faith to continue to believe in Love and Truth, when all we see on Fox News are lies and distortions. It takes a village to Occupy Wall Street while Wall Street is trying to occupy our dreams. It takes dreams to revision the world and Mother Earth, dreams that only you and I can bring.


Healing does happen. Healing happens when we are looking for good. Healing happens when I soften my heart to the reality that my enemy is truly my brother.


Today I resolve to be a healing force in the world. I am lucky to be fully alive today. As the moon waxes tonight, I too grow full in the love and peace of the Divine.


Happy New Year.



Las Vegas New Year's Eve Mouse, #5103-7D


© 2011 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.


(click image for larger version)

Details: December 31, 2011; Canon 7D; f/13 @ 1/83 sec; —2/3 EV; ISO 500; Canon EF 70-300mm f/4-5.6L IS USM @ 78mm

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