Dear Heron Dancers,

The fall leaves seem to be at the peak of their color change, despite the warm weather. Yesterday, walking in the woods, little birds flittered all around. They were kinglets stopping by on their migration from points north. Some spend their summers as far north as northern Alaska.

At the recent Heron Dance journaling workshop, much of our exploration revolved around the implication of this quote:

Since the workshop, I’ve been thinking a lot about our conversations and about the implications of the quote. It has become my starting point for the January 2009 issue of The Heron Dance Nature Art Journal.

We string and unstring our instrument because we don’t believe enough in our song. Sometimes we’re afraid of our song. The metamorphosis from caterpillar to butterfly demands a lot, including courage, sacrifice and hard work. It requires resourcefulness. It is shy and retreats easily. It requires nurturing. In return, it offers a deep experience of life.

The starting point, the process from which one discovers one’s song, is a dream. It arises out of our center. Its roots are in the pre-verbal, the half understood, the subconscious. There is a wisdom inside of each of us that often cannot be put into words but, with practice, can be used to guide and shape our lives and our work. Our song arises out of that which is holy inside of us.

In celebration of the Great Mystery of Life,