The Path of No Path

How the West was…Not As a kid growing up in the 1960s the sound of Rossini’s Overture to William Tell could mean only one thing. It was time to watch the The Lone Ranger. To be honest, my only memories of those moments were Rossini’s music, the fact that I watched the show, and Tonto. More specifically, Jay Silverheels, the actor. It wasn't until nearly fifty years later that I would realize not only how little I knew of Native Peoples, but what a total sham my education had been. To realize that one’s master narrative has been from day one an enormous lie is a huge moment in one’s life. One that I still struggle to comprehend its effects on my life. I confess I was anxious to see the new Lone Ranger film with Johnny Depp. Mostly I was hoping that Mr. Depp would bring his now legendary character acting prowess into the arena of social debate, and right more than a few wrongs that the original Lone Ranger TV show had perpetrated. I was of course, disappointed.  It is...

A new, and already dear friend wrote this today and sent it to me. It is quite lovely. I think of two forest guardians...  One of the day, one of the night. They each wear a key around their necks, emblem of their office, but the sanctum arborus it does not open. Until one day they meet at the eldritch gate, and embracing, the keys pressed between their breasts becomes one key. It fits the ancient portal perfectly. Click.

From Today: My dearest friends, each of us toss many pebbles into this grand, cosmic lake. Though the ripple effect from today's pebbles may never be seen by us, it's effects are still felt. The effectiveness of each pebble we cast, thankfully is not controlled by our ability to see the ripples, but by the amount of love we place inside each and every pebble that we cast. Cast freely. Cast often. Cast from your heart. Breathe. Smile. Take another step, knowing that the world has already started changing because of you.

A Walk Between Worlds    A great blue heron stands silently near the edge of a small lake. Partially concealed by a stand of pampas grass, she waits. It is not quite dawn, and the forest makes no sound. The sounds of last nights crickets and frogs have disappeared into the mist that hugs the shore of the lake. Gone too, is the screeching of owls. The night hunters, who glide silently overhead, patiently searching for that one mouse or vole that has been unwary, and is caught off guard. Throughout the forest there is tension. Tension that comes from the coming change. Everything feels it. The time of the great sleep, the period profound and restorative rest, that great slumber called Winter, is nearly at an end. The silence, the crisp cold, the small patches of remaining snow, are but delicate appetizers, to the prelude, of the bountiful menu that is Spring. Change is indeed coming. It is nearly the full moon. The early morning sky is changing from the void of near bla...

I made this over 5 years ago. It popped up on my screen by "mistake!" I thought wow, when was this made and who made it? I just about fell out of my chair when I realized it was me.

Curmudgeon Hero’s Health Ideas Many of you have asked me about what it is that I am doing, that has enabled me to lose over 140 pounds in the last year. To some, the following will sound like mumbo-jumbo, or maybe even jumbo-mumbo, but I feel it could more properly be called, Jumbo-Mojo, for it works magic on both spirit and body. Why I feel this is so important will become self evident, and the recipe and other references will be at the end. In Freedom & Abundance, I love you all, William ~Rainbow Weaver The Drink to End Suffering Slowly and mindfully prepare your first drink after rising. Be joyful, but be mindful of the bitterness and the purpose of what you are making. Gently hold the glass with both hands against the center of your chest. (heart chakra) Acknowledge in what ever way feels right to you that there is much suffering in this world, and the bitter drink you now hold is a small representation of this suffering. You can focus on pove...

At about 1 am Pacific time on September 11, 2001 I was unable to sleep. As I awoke I was over come with powerful emotions and was then "opened" to a horrific vision that lasted until 5 am. At exactly 6:11 am I was awakened to the the sound of breaking glass, followed by extreme silence. Then for the longest time, 45 minutes or so, I heard the sounds of bright and beautiful bells. They were ringing all around me.  This first poem is from my vision, and the one after it is from my emotions and feelings from the next few days. This was for me, as it was for so many a very intense week in my life. May my experience bring you peace, insight, and love. I love you all, w- Poems follow ====== William, it's time to Wake Up William, they call my name Arriving one by one the beautiful Sound of tinkling bells fills my room An exquisite delicate ringing That only Angels make It is the Ninth month, the eleventh morning Nine – One – One, Wake up...