Patrick’s in and out of the garbage pail Winter – the snow queen

Patrick’s ramblings on solstice from my journal:  Dec. 23

The snow queen is visiting Portland. my back deck containing my hot tub was ice and I dared to venture into the warm waters of where I was re-birthed – my hot tub.  My dear friend and fellow Scorpio  Franz brought Ken, a lodge singer and another Scorpio who repaired my clear canopy roof over my  my tub.  A limb had crashed through and broken the paper thin cover.
The traffic has ceased as our streets are covered with ice.  it is Dec. 23rd. Frankincense and Myrrh – Christ is born. The Breath of Life – Mama. The Eastern Star – the awakening of the light.
Mandi saw me shapeshift into a Jaguar after an aya ceremony. The snake – desire and pachamama – the seeds under the ground that look dead until the ground thaws and new life emerges.  I ventured outside, naked across the ice and into the warm waters of my tub.

My advice is to be very careful what I pray for – my will or spirits will.
Steven Levine wrote a book – who dies? We are infinite beings in a finite universe – I have shapeshifted into a bird – the winged ones. I read the current largest population of crows are currently in the Portland/Seattle area. I will sell franchises in Seattle more independent and interdependent ways.  Coming to my senses –  loving is easy and seeing.  Coming to my senses – I am are free. Freely giving and receiving are one. Michael Meade is my teacher as well as Joseph Campbell, and the beloved. my worst enemies are my greatest teachers. Lynn Andrews stirred the wrath of skins who called her a plastic shawoman.   I feel honored to be in the same company as Lynn, Michael Harner, Brook Medicine Eagle and Sun Bear, who were also labeled “plastic shaman”.  Lynn taught me about red dog. My worst enemy is me. When I re-unite with little Patrick in myself, I am married – whole and complete – needing nothing more – and grateful for what I have. I have ceased seeking and am open to what life will bring me – the joys of giving my presence to both friend and foe – I tend to seek the naughty rather than the nice. Uninitiated men, iron john will steal your “GOLDEN BALL”, or as wounded men in recovery know, the key to your power is not under your mothers pillow – the initiators steal the adolescent boys from thier mothers.  The many stages of recovery – letting go of postures and re-active ways.  My heart knows -your/my heart is to once again connect with a power greater than I and to get attuned to spirits will for me.  I have a daily reprieve from my alcoholism contingent on my spiritual condition.  Where are you treasures?  Mine are not in some bank but in my heart.  What am I investing my time, talent and treasure into.  Is it aligned with what I hold sacred?  what do I/we hold as sacred. I used a lot of “we” there, but I can “wear it” or try it on for size before including you.  The masters stay in the question. The guardians of your and my heart, your ancestors are your salvation, yet to enter the golden gate, I must learn the golden rule. Little boys who have no grandfather or nurturing fathers or mothers still live in the realms of suffering.   In the 80’s, Michael Meade, Robert Bly, and James Hillman, John Lee, Martin Prechtel, Michael Moore and a host of other men and women teachers and healers and AA revived the green man within me to cease seeking love and to begin removing the barrier to my heart – the love and wisdom of Namaste – the Christ within.   – a water sign dives deep into emotions – and surrender to all I can’t change and bring to bear what I can.   I felt love and appreciation for my fahter the old hawk.  He gave me the will to persist.  Life is full of teachers when you are ripe to learn.  Men helped me heal my father wound.  Women helped me heal my mother wound.  My father and I embraced and cried together and I forgave both him and me – as I was blinded to his beauty (the flying boy has ambition to soar with the eagles once again). I have many friends which makes me rich.  Frinds like Bob.  Bob and I still draw a card from  the Medicine Cards upon completion of our coffee visits. Bob is a man I love – the brotherly love that heals the wounded boys. The abusive father creates abusive children, yet I was the lucky one who cherished and loved both my grandfather Ben Pinson, who had farms, groves, land and animals wherever he went. The Pinson’s were Mingo, french/basque on dads side and Vinson on his mothers side. Niza Vinson Pinson.  My father looked down on my Mothers family the Pratts – I am just becoming proud of my mothers family – John Pratt who married Mildred Rose Carrico – the Scottish – John Pratt, my mother’s father was of Scottish decent.

All doctors are not healers.  I have noticed first in myself that the ones who avoid the decent of the Goddess or do the inner work of self love and uncover the beauty inside.  Who council the counselors?  Many doctors, lawyers and Indian Chiefs are themselves wounded and end up “working for” and Medical School get young hopeful M.D.’s caught up in student loans and debt.  I council these folk – the healers.  Or the wanabi’s.  (I want to be a healer).  Many healers needs emotional or soul retrievals and  some plant spirit healing – like Dr. Seth who traded me a drum for a amazing set and setting for katimine assisted therapy. The homeless and addicted here and everywhere are feeding the black wolf of self-destructing and stealing, rape and pillage and plunder with little consequences except a taxpayer paid for cell or death penalty which is like trying to kill the black wolf.  AA taught me to “dare to be average” – seek the middle path of moderation in all things including moderation.
The six realms of suffering include heaven and hell. Babies that keep crying when they need tending to -mother bears nurturing – I had no nurturing. I raged like the fire. In sobriey, I have slept with women NAKED AND HELD MY YANG.  Learning to touch with permission their breast.  Loving touch with no agenda except to heal the wounds -The Goddess is the source for “the milk of human kindness”.  Without touch, the children die.  As long as I am gifted another day, I say thank you for the pain – the touchstone of all spiritual progress  reclaiming my beloved inside.  The old adage “you always hurt the one you love” is self betrayal – staying right size both mentally, spiritually, physically and my infinite soul – playing whole heartedly, full of wonder and curiosity.  The creative fires are The flames of desire – to stop seeking anything and open to recieve  and give as the St. Francis prayer tells me – the 11th step prayer -the hollow bone – playing my heart and souls songs.  trust myself, clean my own house and do what I love – making drums, rattles, talking sticks, dreamcatchers, shields and music – a balanced life of work, play, prayer and intimate friends – in to me see is the warrior of the heart – letting go of my grief so I may feel the joy of sobriety.  Bill Wilson, AA’s co-founder told me I am as only as sick as my secrets, and when I tell my truth, I am set free, or as “how it works” the “into action” steps four through nine.  Of myself, I am powerless.  I come, I come to and I come to believe a power greater than me can restore me to sanity.  The 70’s AA where I attended daily meetings in WV said they would love me until I could love myself.

Frank Fools Crow discerned if a person needed curing or healing.   If one has lost hope, he does a healing.  If their is still a spark, he did a curing.  What is eating you and what are you eating. I love women who eat meat. And I love the vegetarians. The omnivores like the bears are both.
I married Mandi – we are coming up on our second year to re-marry, as hand-fasting. Mandi is  a leo/cancer – cats and crabs. the crab is crabby. The Lioness seeks the old and wounded and helps keep the herd strong. A Cherokee grandmother reminded me that cancer is fed by re-sending negative energy to the wound. We need to air out in the spring, yet winter is for warm fires and good friends – not those who are takers. I am old, for I have prayed on and for. I am now free – happy, joyous and free. I sing – buy my best selling cd called “Winters Vibrations” which was once on my website. Cancer is fed by also “talking about” and assuming you can speak for the “American People”. Self centered fear feeds cancer. Loving and caring feed the heart – which is loving and gratitude – it isn’t love, rather loving that feeds the white wolf.

Cancer will never be “cured” for the black wolf is fed by resentments and self pity. Poor me, poor me, pour me a drink. Feeding the white wolf and grandfather buffalo and the salmon people. Re-member, cancer is “whats eating you”. Gratitude and happiness are priceless. I had no joy in my heart until I surrendered my will and life to the care of creator.
There are murders of crows in the Portland/Seattle area.  At Wy ‘East and Pahoe/Klickitat and Heartspace at bear creek the ravens congregate. My spirit guide the eagle of the east guides me – the two brothers, both in love with Saint Helens. When I returned to the scene of the crime, I was so scared. Portland in the 70’s and 80’s was the coolest place in the USA. Private armys, cities, and the wild nightlife – the animals, our relatives are guiding us. Franz has some crows teaching him. The big plan is to drive folk out of the cities, so as to drive down home prices so they can become slum landlords.
Portland is on a heart vortex. Seattle is on a water or soul vortex. California is the land of fruits and nuts. Yet is also has magic and leads.

The richest is the poorest. The eye of the needle is the third day on the hill. The horse knows – my sweat lodge to help a brother release his grief – and the Arabian Horse that taught me. Horses know who know and who does not know. The stallion at Carol Haynes’s place. A horse farm with sweat lodges.

The winter solstice is the longest night – the dark night of the soul – but also the shortest day. I love Lynn Gosney – she knows about as many songs as I do.

What is my hearts desire?  I want chickens, bees, organic gardens, a horse, a pig/hog, sheep, barns, a timber frame home, friends, Lovers, workers, creators and healers, independent/interdependent seekers, a horse, a cow, a goat and sheep, an Alpaca, many children and animals – fearless brings the wild nature back and nature is nurture – the sisters of mercy. When men know compassion, they will know the birth of Christ – on Christmas Day.
A community of radical honest and transparency – Speaking from my true essence – my heart rather than my head.  I retrieved the spirit of my child – the one who knows Children play, Flirting. healing Doctors, lawyers, and “mental health” workers and “billionaires” who are the most wounded.  I have a vision – a platform on “Peters point” to put our drum house powered by water, wind and sun.   In the next year, if I/we build on Heartspace, they will come. Bear creek was following the bear – Grandfather Martin told me I was from the stars – and I followed bear and cat – which brought me to bear creek.   Jasmine has gone away and shape shifted into a “trans”. Just like mom. Heartspace provides set and setting for plant spirit healings of the people  The round house, the long house, the sweat and moon lodges, our worship, drums rattles and flutes,  and lots of toys for play.

Christians, read “Sermon on the Mount” by Emmet Fox.
The planet does not need healing, the people do. Put your hands in the hands of the one who pours the water. I love Leon , aka Lasa Iron Man. In Leavenworth Washington, he gave me my name – which translates into “four star”. The southern cross has four stars and leads me to bring togethr the eagle/condor ways – earlier, spirit led me to Peru to play my flute at the incan capital of Cusco, the sacred valley of the kings and the road to Mauchu Pichu – I went to the land of the condor and played my flute. I shifted into the lower world – the land below of the chambers beneath – where pachamama dwells.
The point man – pointing the finger and going through the looking glass. This is the shift – from right to left. Mama is angry, and when the people heal, the planet heals. Put the person together and the world falls into place.
Between now and Jan. 1 make an altar which contains four mesas – light, dark, gathering and personal. do them together rather than one at a time. In people we trust is godding and goddessing. Seeding and birthing. The North is setting intention – singing our songs of Christmas – living on the 432 hz rather than 440. letting go of my rights to kill myself and living in gratitude.

One thought on “Patrick’s in and out of the garbage pail Winter – the snow queen”

  1. Brooke Medicine Eagle wrote an incredible book quite a while back called BUFFALO WOMAN COMES SINGING. I will probably never finish it as I smartly dated the responses I gave in working on her exercises. I seriously need to go back to that book because I found out (at 78 y.o.) that I’ve got C-PTSD. I guessed as much that I had it, but it was never diagnosed until last August. I have another few books on PTSD which are equally as helpful, but Brooke’s book really hits home and doesn’t stop! I am so grateful to her for writing this volume, and for her CDs. I have them all, but there are two I especially like and I often find myself singing along with them, or just singing them alone.

    I need a new drum and will have to settle for a small hand drum which will serve my purpose until I can afford a larger 15″ drum. The two 15″ drums I’ve got are very ill and can no longer be played. The powwow drum I received many years ago in very bad condition cannot by played at all. My caregiver wants the powwow drum but refuses to take it home with her until she can find someone to make it whole again. More than once I suggested Patrick Pinson but she wants to get the work done in CO, but I don’t think she knows of anyone who can do the work. I’ve told her many times it’s going to cost her, and of all the people I know who might be able to do the work, there is no one I would recommend other than Patrick. She, her husband and I are all Apache, but I’m also part Taos Pueblo. I met her Mom over Thanksgiving weekend and oh, the sparks that went through her and I is something I will never forget. I wish I would get as much from Michaela, but I will settle for whatever I can get from her. She knows I need to be hugged as touch is necessary to help me through this PTSD mess I’ve found myself in.

    I am forever grateful to having met Patrick when I did, and the wonderful assistance he’s given me through the years in caring for the two 15″ drums I bought from him. I wish I could handle the cost of a larger drum at present, but I just can’t do it right now.

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