Hello friend,
​
I have always been an enthusiastic fan of February here in the Catskills.  To me it is one of the great unsung liminal times. Although astronomically Spring here in the northern hemisphere does not start until March 20th climatological spring starts on March 1st. 

    Here we start the month with the bitter cold of the deep winter but by the end its usually a free for all where anything can happen.  We have subzero days and days in the 50s. We see rain, snow, ice, clouds, sun, high winds, dead calms, thaws, and freezes.  Local streams start to break up and the land and more than human world starts to ease out of winter’s deep slumber.  The treacherous boilerplate hard ice that the month started with will be slush in many places by the end.
Our cats Peme, Mema, Phish, and Chief, who have been little more than warm, fuzzy lap lumps for months, have started making short forays around the yard but soon return inside to the warmth of the windowsill. Not quite ready to wander the world in the curious, aloof way that a cat is wont to. 

       This transition from the bitter winter cold and ice to milder defrosting is something I look forward to each year.  It is not that that I do not like the winter months, they are extremely beautiful, but the returning of the warmth and increasing daylight are palpable reminders that what has been resting is gathering energy to burst from dormancy in a vibrant display.

        We spent the beginning and middle of the month with the trecenas of Kan/Serpent and Tijax/Flint.  A trecena is a 13-day week in the Mayan calendar and each trecena is named for the energy glyph that the week starts on.  Kan and Tijax both have strong associations with the telluric energy of Mother Earth.  We moved into the Trecena of B’atz/Monkey on the 23rd. The Weaver of time. How fitting as this is an energy of new threads and patterns being woven into the fabric of our lives. Unlike the curious aloofness of my feline companions Monkey has an innocent flavor to its curiosity.  An open wonder that looks at existence as a canvas and ponders what to create.  

     As winter is closing and spring is setting in, perhaps this is a ripe time to do as Monkey.  What do you have in your internal landscape that has been resting this winter? What dormant seed do you hold that is just now beginning to rouse at the beckoning of the increasing light and warmth ahead? How do you plan to paint the canvas before you and what experiences will be the colors? 

 From my Heart to Yours,

Christopher T. Franza OMEC Board of Directors ​

​Animals are wonderful teachers. A brief encounter with the American Pika sparked my curiosity about what this small but resilient creature could teach me about my ability to adapt to the changing environment on Earth.

In late September, my husband, son and I set out for a 3-day backpacking trip out of Convict Lake, in the Sherwin Range of the Sierra Nevadas in California. We’d planned to camp our first night in the Owens Valley, but poor air quality made it inadvisable. The small towns on this stretch of Highway 395 know all too well the long term economic and health effects of yearly droughts and fires. In August, the Caldor Fire burned over 200,000 acres (including more than 1,000 structures), threatened Lake Tahoe, filled the Owens Valley with smoke, and precipitated a month-long National Forest closure.
 
At the time of our trip in September, the KNP Complex Fire threatened the ancient trees in Sequoia National Park and Kings Canyon, and was the source of the eerie orange sky that reduced visibility and made it hard to breathe. To avoid the smoke, we drove another 100 miles to gain elevation. We arrived at the Mammoth Lakes campground (8600’) close to dark and quickly ate a meal before diving into our tents for warmth. That night, an unseasonable cold front dropped temperatures into the 20s. The winter-like gusts whipped across the lake and through the grove with such a roar that we didn’t hear mama bear and her cubs open the unlocked bear box to eat the neighbor’s sweet bakery items.

The next morning, the air quality was much improved so we decided to go forward with the trek. I tell you all this because even though we thoughtfully prepared for this trip, studied maps, secured wilderness permits, and checked weather, a lot of what we were faced with required us to adapt to new circumstances. So much is out of our control; being flexible isn’t one of them.

Animals are attuned to their environment because they are their environment so adjusting to what presents itself is part of their survival skills. We are our environment too, but we’ve forgotten and separated ourselves with walls, roofs, cars, and technology. We could learn a thing or two from our animal kin who seem to be problem solving in response to climate change. We might not like it when bears ransack campgrounds and enter mountain homes but you’ve got to hand it to them for finding high caloric food on a regular basis!

I invite you to explore the programs offered through the Olympic Mountain EarthWisdom Circle (OMEC). Each of these programs encourage a sacred and responsible relationship with the Earth, supporting us to move wakefully through personal and planetary change. 

From my heart to yours, 
Christina Burress 
OMEC Board Member  ​

As the blanket of winter covers us is in the Northern Hemisphere, I was called to share two pieces of writing that recently arrived in my life. May you find peace this season, greet the darkness, and honor the mystery of life and death. ​

Corn teaches that anything in its full maturity gives of itself. The mature tassels of Corn plants generate pollen that is offered out, blown about by the winds to enter that lustrous, silky part of the Corn so those juicy kernels can grow. Mature land gives out to the animals and to us; its rich soil nurtures and feeds all that grows. Mature water bestows moisture and is steeped in minerals that benefit the land, animals, and people. Mature forests offer shade, shelter, beauty, food, and love and wisdom we have yet to explore. 

Prosperity means different things to different people. A curious example is of a Mexican healer, a curandera I worked alongside in a mental health center decades ago in Colorado. This woman was caring with everyone she met. She also looked after her childhood community in Mexico. When money was needed back home, the curandera used to go to a shopping mall and approach a stranger who appeared to be in need. She then brought this person a nourishing meal and shared meaningful time with him or her. In turn, the curandera told me, “Within a week I received an unsolicited donation for the amount we need at home. I give from my own heart and pocket to someone who really needs it, and that energy unfailingly returns.” 

It’s natural to desire and seek for ourselves and our families. Everyone wants to be happy and prosperous. Yet if we only breathed in and never breathed out, or if we only ate food and never expelled food waste, we would die. In the same way, the soul thrives through giving. 

Corn teaches that life fills us according to how we give ourselves to it; the fire we stoke is the fire that blazes. The Earth offers abundantly to all her children, and when we give back, really put our hearts to it, we entrain with our Mother and harmonize with her creatures. We join with nature in remembering we are the same light and love. 

As we give of ourselves to others, Nature, and all of life, I invite you to explore the programs offered through the Olympic Mountain EarthWisdom Circle (OMEC). Each of these programs support us in building a sacred and responsible relationship with the Earth, opening us to the rhythms of giving and receiving.  

From my heart to yours, 
Llyn Cedar Roberts, MA 
Founder and President ​

​The harvest season offers us many gifts—from beauty to wonder to cycles of completion. And while there are many more gifts that we could explore together, I’m most in awe of these three in particular. For this reflection, I will meander through the qualities residing within each of these gifts to express the deep gratitude I have for this special time of year.
   
Beauty: September in the northeast brings in fewer warm days and calls in cooler nights. The leaves begin their great turning from green to red, orange, yellow, and brown. Orchards bear bountiful fruit. A pull to slow down and settle in takes over. I steep in the comfort of a warm bonfire or cozy sweatshirt. Nature’s changing landscape wraps around me, offering a tender embrace. During the day, I get lost in the vibrant, blue hues of the sky. And as night moves in, I connect with the shining stars no longer eclipsed by the haze of summer. Out in the forest, I see nature’s creatures busy at work. Some are putting up stores for the winter while others are building warm dens for the cold months ahead or preparing to enter their mating cycle. Massive trees drop pine cones from their branches. The local streams begin to chill. The beauty cracks open my heart. 

Wonder: This September is full of blessings and ripe with magic. For those of us in the Northern Hemisphere, we will experience 10 different meteor showers, a full Harvest Moon, and the Autumnal Equinox on the 22nd. We will also move into the beginning of the trecena of Tz'ikin on the 20th. A trecena is a 13-day period (considered a week) in the Mayan calendar. While each day of the Mayan calendar has its own energy or sign, the first day of the trecena sets the tone for the entire week. The energy of that first day reverberates into the 12 days that follow. Tz’ikin is the energy of the Eagle. It is the great winged one that soars to the greatest of heights on wings as wide as the sky. Tz’ikin is the all-seeing, taking in views from the highest of summits and peaks. It takes in dreams, inspirations, and imaginings. It sees with keen vision all that is and all that can be. Tz'ikin is connected with the west during this cycle, which is associated with autumn in many traditions. The wonder of these magical moments this September leave me in awe. 

Completion: I see the harvest season as a time of completion. While the last vestiges of summer life are coming to a close, a different kind of life is beginning. The joyful exertion of the past months come to fruition. Hard days of working in the heat come to an end. Bounty lands on the table and is stored in the pantry. Life does not stop with the onset of cooler months. It just changes form. It ebbs and flows with its own pace and rhythm, shifting from fast to slow. We complete yet another cycle. This completion causes me to pause and reflect on my journey so far.  

I invite you to consider what gifts the harvest season offers you and to explore the programs available through the Olympic Mountain EarthWisdom Circle (OMEC). An upcoming nature-inspired writing workshop begins in October and provides a creative outlet to explore and express your relationship with nature. Each of OMEC’s programs support us in building a sacred and responsible relationship with the Earth, opening us to nature’s beauty, wonder, and cycles of completion within ourselves and beyond. 

I hope this harvest season fills your heart as much as it does mine. 

From my Heart to Yours,
Christopher T. Franza OMEC Board of Directors  ​

On my latest road trip up the west coast from California to Washington, I kept noticing turkey vultures in the sky. I’d never given much thought to them and often mistook them for birds of prey, but it was pretty clear that they were going to be my companions for this journey.
 
Turkey vultures are from the family Cathartidae, which include condors. The name comes from the Greek (κάθαρσις) katharsis, meaning purification, cleansing or clarification.  
 
I had just resigned from my high school teaching job after 11 years, and while I was inspired by the community of teachers and students, I was too preoccupied most days to do the work that was calling me. When people asked me what was next, I’d say that I was going to work with Mother Earth, but beyond that, I didn’t know. 
 
Turkey vultures often work in cooperative communities for scavenging success and social interaction. Their extraordinary sense of smell (rare for birds) can detect carrion over a mile away. They also have good eyesight for spotting dead or dying animals. And they play a vital role in helping with decomposition.
 
This journey was part of an ongoing effort to sift through what was important to me. It had been two years since I’d made a formal commitment to Mother Earth and two years to summon the courage to break away from a “secure” life. I knew in my heart that this lifetime was about more than accomplishments and acquisitions. I was stepping into the unknown and learning to open my senses to the messages from the natural world.
 
A group of perched vultures is called a wake and a group spiraling up to gain altitude and ride the thermals is called a kettle because they look like water coming to a boil. And I understood this energy in my own decision to change paths. The play between the grounded vigil and the effervescent flight, sometimes as high as 20,000 feet, reminded me of the interplay between being rooted and uplifted toward the light, like the trees I’d sat with in the rainforest and what I hope to nurture in myself.
 
I camped at Usal Beach on the Lost Coast for the last two days of my trip. The black sand beach, slate colored ocean, thriving tidepools, diving osprey, and bushy-tailed fox, were all offering their own lessons, but the turkey vulture was still the main teacher who was never out of sight. As I packed my car to leave, I spotted a few of them silently soaring along the slope of Redwoods. I felt in my own body the micro adjustments to the wind and the changing topography. This trip had been cathartic and purifying, and I sensed the peace of being in Earth’s sacred rhythm. I understood that like these magnificent birds, I would find my way if I kept to my strengths and stayed alert to what is calling me. 
 
And now, months later, I am finding my way. This October, I’ll be offering a six-week virtual nature-inspired writing course through Olympic Mountain EarthWisdom Circle (OMEC) entitled Remembering Our Place in the Sacred Circle of Life. My intention for this class aligns with OMEC’s mission of helping people connect with their own and the Earth's deep mystery to recover the passion that heals us, and our world. I hope you will consider joining me. You can find more information about the course, including an outline for each week and the reading list on the OMEC website HERE.You can also contact me by email christinamburress@gmail.com with any questions. 
 
From my heart to yours, 
Christina Burress 
OMEC Committee Member ​

It is with respect that we share the spiritual elder and traditional teacher of the Mayan Ajq’ij and Day Keeper--Tata Pedro Cruz Garcia—and the visionary founder of the Mayan women weaver’s community, Casa Flor Ixcaco--Teresa Ujpan Perez—departed from this spiritual plane this month. They passed within two days of each other. 

Tata Pedro Cruz Garcia 
Tz’utujil elder and guardian of the ancient oral traditions, Tata Pedro, was one of the few surviving members of the Mayan Council of the Elders of Tz’utujil, which is a branch of the Maya Qui-che. He was a traditional Mayan Ajq’ij and Day Keeper, and one of the principal authorities of the Council of Mayan Elders of Lake Atitlan in Guatemala. He received the title “Heart of the Lake Atitlan” by his fellow Mayan Council of Elders and Tz’utujil people.     

He taught internationally as a ceremonial leader and spiritual guide, sharing knowledge, ceremonies, and practices. He was the interpreter of dreams for his community and a leader of the preservation and education of Mayan day keeping and fire ceremonies.   

Tata Pedro recognized the interconnectedness of all people, the expanding consciousness of the planet, and the urgent need to unify our spiritual, cultural, and ethnic wisdom for the benefit of the planet and humanity. 

We honor Tata Pedro Cruz, a beautiful spirit who contributed so much to the world and to the Mayan peoples during his lifetime. 

Teresa Ujpan Perez 
The vision for the women weaver’s community, Casa Flor Ixcaco, began in 1950 through seven-year-old Teresa Ujpan Perez’s interest in backstrap weaving. She eventually moved to the coast to begin work as a cotton picker. The job gave her the opportunity to learn about the plant and cultivation.

After marrying and starting a family, she needed to provide financial support for them, and so she returned to the weaving loom. Since the income from working in a shop wasn’t sufficient to meet her family’s needs, she formed her own group of weaving women.

In 1984, Teresa learned how to spin cotton, and in 1996, she began organizing the group so they could commercialize their own handmade products. In 2009, the market had grown, and the women decided to weave exclusively with organic cotton, planting their own cotton just outside of the town in the mountains. Today, Casa Flor Ixcaco houses 22 families dedicated to the production and commercialization of natural handcrafted items.

The Olympic Mountain EarthWisdom Circle (OMEC) has supported the women weavers of Casa Flor Ixcaco for many years through OMEC textile purchases sold in the United States, by sponsoring Mayan weavers to visit the United States, and with our engagement during our sacred expeditions. We are deeply moved that the women use all organic cotton and plant dyes, while emphasizing the spiritual qualities of the plants and preserving the ancient Mayan backstrap-loom approach. 

We honor Teresa Ujpan Perez, a beautiful spirit who contributed so much to Mayan women and children in her lifetime, and to preserving ancient wisdom ways.  

From my heart to yours,
Llyn Cedar Roberts, MA
OMEC Founder and President

​Spirit has many faces. And yet, with all of this diversity, everything is united; each unique expression connected to and reflected by another. It’s been over a year since I soaked in the magic of the Hoh Rainforest with my mentor and guide, Llyn Roberts. I still feel the imprint of the Hoh in my heart—the antlers of the elk, the glistening trail of the banana slug, the playful splash of the otter. My journeys and dreams often transport me back to the Hoh—moving through time and across distance—where I feel her embrace and marvel at her magnificence once again. 

In the weeks before my trip, I heard a chorus of words resounding within my soul: mother, lover, self, and other. Even though I knew there was significance to receiving this message, it wasn’t until my time in the rainforest that I understood why. The Hoh revealed that these words offer me new ways of relating to the natural world.  

Nature is our mother—a nurturer who sustains us and a teacher who reveals the truth of reality on Earth. She challenges us to hold many seemingly opposing forces like birth and death, destruction and restoration, and intensity and gentleness. It all belongs and has a place in the circle of life. Mother is also a verb. It’s a way of relating and being with all of life—holding everything in a communal embrace with acceptance, inclusion, and wholeness. Her feminine energy is mysterious, spontaneous, and eternally creative. 
Nature is also our lover. She longs for an intimate relationship with all of life. In the depths of our soul, we too long for a love affair with the natural world. Our heart takes flights when we open to the profound connection with a beloved. Nature is a beloved for us. Union with her is ecstatic and saturates us to our very core. Every part of us is caressed by her love. She endlessly flexes, flows, and flourishes within and around us. When we reciprocate this love, she absorbs us, and we taste bliss.   

I am self. I am also other. I am an autonomous being with my own feelings, ideas, and history. I have my own journey with its unique twists and turns. And you have yours. And yet, I am also connected to everything and everyone around me. This is one of the many paradoxes woven into the human experience. Ultimately, otherness is an illusion. I am one with the wind, the blade of grass, and the stranger. The Hoh has shown me that self and other blend into each other, illuminating the flow of Spirit that spirals in, around, and through everything.  

How has nature expressed herself to you? How do you relate to her many faces? How do you see yourself as other and other as you? What new meaning or fresh insights has nature offered you? I invite your heart to explore these questions and see where they take you. My exploration often takes me back into the Hoh where I found myself as other and nature as my mother and my lover. 

From my heart to yours,
Christopher T. Franza
Board of Directors, OMEC  

​Sensual Blackberries that happily soak in the sun seem to say: “What’s the hurry? Slow down! Allow things the proper time they need to grow.” 

Blackberry Plant gently evolves its fruit from flower to juicy berry, demonstrating how to appreciate nature’s pace—whether we are raising a child, writing a book, building an organization, or restoring lands, waters, and forests whose growth cycle extends hundreds and thousands of years beyond our own. 

In the temperate rain forest where I live, it’s easy to see that cut forests know how to replenish if left on their own. Some forest rhythms appear rapid to me, such as ferns, yellow dock, oxalis, nettles, wild Blackberries, salmonberries, and countless other ground covers that seem to sprout up overnight. Alder trees, which also restore clear-cut land, grow much faster than the spruces that develop through decades and even over centuries. 

Each nature being has its cadence. Life thrives in the fertile mystery of rhythm. 

Blackberry Plant tells us much about fruition as it does about growing. Ripe Blackberries practically drop off the vine. On the other hand, berries that cling too long turn sour. Similarly, neither is it healthy for us to try to hold back when we need to change. Just as color and plumpness lure us to sweet berries, life signals to us when we’re ready for a new phase. 

This message of release is poignant, as the signs are everywhere that “life as we know it” is changing. Humans have birthed wonderful creations, but at a cost of separation from the Earth and Spirit. The challenges we face now, personally and collectively, invite us to bridge these gaps and live in more whole ways. 

So many of us feel and confront this push to change. Opening to the wisdom of Blackberry Plant helps us to see that: “The time is ripe. We can trust and let go to a new way of being.”

As we embark on personal and collective change, I invite you to explore the programs offered through the Olympic Mountain EarthWisdom Circle (OMEC). Each of these programs support us in building a sacred and responsible relationship with the Earth, opening us to natural rhythms and transformative growth. 

From my heart to yours, 
Llyn Cedar Roberts, MA 
Founder and President