Whale Heart
 
1. 
One Elder fresh out of the hospital, 
another one in. 
 
Both with heart complications- 
a blocked artery that is swiftly repaired,
and another's chest filling with mysterious fluids that drown out her heart and lungs.
 
I'm tired and grieving.
 
I pause to contemplate my deep sea kin 
who swim 
bouyantly through
stormy, noisy waters,
 
and somehow manage to sing, eat, float, and raise their young
amidst the cacophony of humanity's ongoing ignorance.
 
Innocence, it seems
is the key 
that will help
to clear the seas
and undrown
the hearts of the people.
 
2.
My 83 year old Grief Tending Elder 
Laurence Cole, shares with a village of thirty grievers
how as a young boy, 
he had full memory of being a whale. 
 
8 year old Laurence 
could remember exactly what it 
felt like to break
through the surface
and spout,
to float in wide directions
and follow migratory paths
laid out by the stars 
through terrains wild and free, through black and blue unknowns. 
 
No wonder
he found himself on the path of Grief Tender in this life. 
 
No wonder
he surfs the waves of grief until all greed is made into a medicine.
 
Yes, wonder!
Wonder at the mystery of an Elder's heart opening 
and the truth of the child within 
spouting forth. 
 
3. 
Did you know that the shores of Los Angeles are a graveyard to some of the worlds largest and bravest whales? 
 
Deep sea excavations have revealed thousands of whale carcasses and skeletons slowly decaying at the bottom of these over-trafficked, overburdened, over-polluted passageways. 
 
It strikes me as non-accidental that the largest unwilling cetacean graveyard on earth resides miles offshore from Hollywood, 
where celebrities are worshipped and consumerism has become it's own upside down religion. 
 
4. 
Last week the Chinook Tribe posts a reel of a gray whale swimming up the Willapa River- 
 
Recognizing that upriver is a direction whales are not supposed to go, 
a canoe-full of Chinook family paddle out to their relative, 
in hopes to sing him home. 
 
Too far gone, the sonic wasteland of the Pacific coast
has confused his sonar.
He blunders ahead, and dies upriver. 
Grandparents and grandchildren alike pray over his body. 
 
His life, an offering to humanity's awakening, 
 
A cry from our kin. 
 
5. 
Did you know the power of one whale's heart?
 
Did you know that the heart of the whale
can inspire thousands, millions? 
 
Did you know, the story of the whale continues to spread across the world, 
and will not rest until every heart awakens?
 
Did you know, the song of the whale upholds creation?
 
Did you? 
 
Did you know?

This poem flowed through my tender and open heart in the weeks after attending and co-facilitating a Grief Ritual down in San Diego with my beloved partner of many years, Cliff Taylor, my Grief Tending Elder Laurence Cole (mentioned in this poem) and two collaborators and friends Amy Ma and Lisa Littlebird.

After over a year of letting my Substack fall fallow, this felt like the perfect piece to re-open the space, as I’ve been returning to longer form writing in the more recent weeks.

I’ve got some big whale medicine brewing for you, some pieces soon to be released that continue the story the whales have been weaving through my heart and bones over the past 7 years of living out here on the Oregon Coast.

Stay tuned, and keep your ears open wide…

As always, Eskerrik Asko (thank you) in my ancestral Basque tongue for spending some time here with me today.

Big Whaley love,

Aislinn & ocean friends

*The photo at the top of the page was taken by Ashley River. I added in a Whale Tail specifically for this piece! 🐋

You can read the poem below, and/or hear me read it to you in this video if you'd really like to be wooed…

Enjoy & Receive:

Let the internal wars fall away

What if you choose to love yourself today?

Come into the calm waters of your becoming,

Welcome your pleasure state…

YES! you are changing,

YES! you are growing…

What if this were the Mother’s Fate?

For her children to tumble and scramble and fall

As they watched with wide eyes the UNDOING of it all?

The Undoing of lies

The Undoing of Greed

The Undoing of all that would would SUPERCEDE

…Or dare to SUPER-SEED

As in lace into the DNA of the organics

That which would attempt to harvest the goodness of life

Into some type of countable currency?

Into some kind of measurable superficiality?

Into some measure or motion or poisonous notion

That makes you feel consistently

Less less less

And as a result need

More more more

It’s time to shut down THAT door

And re-route the channel

Into the Original Mother’s intentional canal-

The one that is here to birth us all!

Yes dear child, it’s time to see

That inside her Birth

Is the Truth of WE

Rest your breast upon the Mother

Follow the cadence of her seasons

Do not give in to too much reason

With her storms

We are reborn

Know in the depths of your cells

Where the intelligence of water reigns

You have not come into this world to be tamed-

Oh no!

When she quakes- it is because she is birthing…

When she aches, it is because she is unearthing…

All that has been plastered and concretized on her breathing body

She is calling us back

She will NOT be suffocated

She is here to be liberated

And her medium of choice?

Is your voice…

Her method preferred?

The HOLY Word

The word is seeded with the way

The way of the wyrd, dare I say!

Which birthed the day-

The day of the mother

The day of the sun

The day of the father

The day life begun

Listen to her holy ways, child

And come closer, closer…

There is a temple waiting for you

Inside of your own mind, your own being…

It is emboldened by your breath

And it’s most radiant, precious and glowing treasure

Is your holy heart

Which sits atop the throne of your womb

It’s time to SING

Time to SHINE and SHARE what you have

Time to bloom

Sister, come closer

I invite you in

To the radiant waters

That call your soul to swim

Deeper, deeper,

Into the depths

Where the Original Mother

Let out her first breath…

And so it is!

Oceans of devotion,

Aislinn

What awaits you inside BIRTHING EARTH'S DREAM: An Advanced Training in the Oracular Arts…

• 8 ceremonial calls over 13 weeks featuring indigenous ritual technology, two guest teachers and elders: Laurence Cole and Nila Velchoff, and revelatory channeled teachings on the Oracular Arts

• Group Kontomblé Divination where you hear from the Little People directly

• Grief Ritual and Ancestralization

• Deepening and developing strong bonds in sisterhood and community

• 2 Round Table Oracle sessions where you will get 1:1 support with strengthening your skills as a translator of the divine in a group setting

• Bonus Feedback + Integration call to let the medicine marinate

In each call, you will receive:

• Channeled teaching transmissions on the Oracular Arts

• a Ritual Practice to ground the teachings (often prescribed by my guides- the Kontomblé)

• Group shares + Q and A

• Deeply Nourishing and Supportive Energy Medicine Transmissions

• and more!

This is for healing practitioners, ritual facilitators, ceremonialists, space holders, coaches, leaders and oracles who are ready to infuse the cultivation and deliverance of their unique purpose and medicine with a fresh form of ancestral intelligence, and feel wholly encouraged and supported as they do so.

If you want to feel deeply held and nurtured as you unwind your shame, unbind past harms, and ignite an ancestral fire within that burns so bright it brings your dreaming and birthing abilities to whole new level, then this is for you.

*This container is open to those who identify as women, as female/feminine/two-spirited, or are non-binary/female bodied

*This is an intimate container where the curriculum will be downloaded and unfold strongly in accordance to the needs of those who answer the call.

Enter the Dream

Often in modern times, when a betrayal occurs within the closed nucleus of a family, or even within a wider community, the betrayer is cast out, shunned and most certainly vilified. The Dagara people of Burkina Faso have a perspective that offers deeper insight into what is energetically afoot. In this lineage, an act of Betrayal is seen as a call from Spirit.

My teacher, Elder Malidoma Somé, spoke of this often, because it was something that we in the modern world have a missing understanding around.

To the Dagara, when someone is betrayed, there is a shared knowing among the village that for a person to commit an act of betrayal is the very sign itself that there is something out of balance between the world of the living, and the world of Spirit.

In this sense, this person actually becomes someone one must THANK because they alert the rest of the community to this imbalance, and now the actions can be taken to restore balance between the village, or the community, and the Otherworld.

The one who betrays, in their wounded-ness, becomes a Vessel now that Spirit can move through, signaling to community that there is a need for ritual mending to be done.

It is in ritual, that these relationships between the living and the dead, as well as between the living and Spirit, are nourished, restored, and fed- and then in turn, brought into balance again.

The Dagara know that for a person to betray someone else shows that they are hurting, and their hurt is telling a story of something or someone in their past that hurt them. The energy that lives inside of and operates through this “hurt” or wounding is the imbalance itself.

👁️ Can you imagine how different life could be if we adopted this comprehensive understanding of the intimate relations between worlds on a global or political scale?

👉 Or even within the micro-communities we find ourselves a part of?

(…And what if as an oracle or a bridge,
your role played an essential part in this grand mending?

What if you,

in your ability to be a messenger on behalf of Spirit,
could give the gift
of repairing the rift?)

👂…. Does hearing this shift your perspective on any painful experiences from your past?

In the event of a past betrayal not being ritually tended, it can become very dangerous spiritually speaking for the one-who-betrays and the betrayed, as well as for the community. We are living inside of an example of what that can look like right now. We are also living in an example of what it can look like when this wound patterning is carried over lifetimes (more on that piece soon).

The steps toward remediation and repair are found in rebuilding the relationships between those of us who are earth-side, and the Otherworld. This happens piece by piece, person to person, and community by community, through the technology of ritual.

If these ancient indigenous understandings and their potential to bring healing to our lives speak to you, I invite you to join Birthing Earth’s Dream, a 13 week advanced training in the Oracular Arts for Emissaries of the Natural World.

This training is a ritual intensive where the lineages of earth and star meet. We weave with the lineages of Sophia, including the Mermaids of the Magdalene and the Dragons and Whales, as well as indigenous lineage teachings of Turtle Island, and the Dagara of Burkina Faso, a tri-fold medicine path I have been walking and in service to for the past decade of my life. You too have a medicine braid of lineages that you are weaving in your life, composed of earth and blood, and soul and star!

Inside Birthing Earth's Dream, we call the strands of your unique braid forward to be blessed and fortified, and for the spiritual ecology that guides you through your days to be brought to light in a way that you cannot unsee. Within this container, you are repaired, revived and refined. You are earth's dream, and what's being birthed through you is her potential.

What's coming to life inside of BIRTHING EARTH'S DREAM:

• 8 ceremonial calls over 13 weeks featuring indigenous ritual technology, two guest teachers and elders: Laurence Cole and Nila Velchoff, and revelatory channeled teachings on the Oracular Arts

• Group Kontomblé Divination where you hear from the Little People directly

• Grief Ritual and Ancestralization

• Deepening and developing strong bonds in sisterhood and community

• 2 Round Table Oracle sessions where you will get 1:1 support with strengthening your skills as a translator of the divine in a group setting

• Bonus Feedback + Integration call to let the medicine marinate

*Early Enrollment is now open. Save $333 on all payment options when you sign up before 8/8 at 8pm PT.

*This is an intimate container where the curriculum will be downloaded and unfold strongly in accordance to the needs of those who answer the call. Wee aim to guide you to your edge and lovingly nudge you off the cliff into your next chapter. (Don't worry- we'll make sure you sprout your wings before you fly!)

Enter the dream here.

oceans of devotion,

Aislinn

P.S. To hear Elder Malidoma Somé’s full talk on this matter, look up “The Blessing of Betrayal” on YouTube.

Subscribe now

For the Second Edition of Grief, Beauty + Devotion, I write to you from my cozy living room nook in the historical hobbit-hole-on-the-hillside of a home that my partner and I lovingly call “the Hummingbird House”. There is a cup of lavender-tulsi tea brewing for me to sip upon before I prepare to drift off into the dreamtime realms, where my “second shift” begins.

….I say that with a bit of tongue in cheek, as I know very well that while my dreamtime activities of late have been astrally intensive, they also have a level of necessity in that a lot of work is being done.

Are you one who weaves worlds and the restitution of timelines in their sleep and dreamtime, too?

I digress…

For the second issue of Grief, Beauty + Devotion, I’d like to present the idea with more context that speaks to how I originally imagined it.

It goes something like this…

Every edition of this monthly-ish review can take any form- poem, prose, image or art… song, quotes, or a delightful combination of all the above- so long as it follows this rule of thumb:

Composed of three sections, each section must muse upon the reality of Grief, Beauty, and Devotion in a way that is pleasing to me and hopefully also to you, my reader! Most simply, with this monthly curation of creations I intend to stoke the fires of inspiration and feed life.

Last month, I shared a poem with you about the Chinook Winter Gathering that followed this 3 part structure.

Let’s see how this month wants to flow…

Grief

3 things I have been grieving:

• An abrupt and jarring end to what I thought would be a mutually supportive connection, but was truly something far from it. I’m on the other side of it now, but it was a rocky passage that I’m grateful for- as it sharpened my discernment and brought my boundaries up to date.

• I live in a small town on the Oregon Coast, where the Columbia River meets the sea. I feel the impacts of the damming of this river, and the logging that happens all around us, every day. The salmon are being affected, the orcas are being affected, and many small patches of old legacy forest, who slip through the cracks of the laws designed to protect, are being targeted for logging. One of the forests that the Oregon Department of Forestry is after is called Mothball Hill. My friend and beekeeper priestess sister lives right next to it, with 13 hives of bees she tends. The forest houses an Old Growth Grandmother Cedar Tree with a generations old bee hive that lives inside her. Our community is fighting to protect this land and we have high hopes we will prevail. These forests have been in my prayers and perhaps they will be in yours now too.

• As I learn more about the conquest and colonization of Africa (beginning with the 19th & 20th century’s “Scramble for Africa”), the ongoing and ever-evolving process of grieving the effects of worldwide colonization and ongoing systemic racism has been extremely heightened for me. One avenue of education comes in the form of the incredible arthouse documentary “Dahomey”, which follows the journey of the return of 26 royal treasures (aka Living Embodiments of Real Ancestors + Gods) from a museum in Paris to their homelands in The Kingdom of Dahomey, or Modern Day Benin. Over the last century, The French stole over 7,000 of these “artifacts”, aka ancestral spirit-technological devices, the rest of which are still locked away in the storehouses of the museum. You can watch the film on Mubi, and I highly recommend you do!

What have you been grieving? Reply in the comments below.

Beauty

(painting by me)

Preview of what’s coming this April: The Dieta of Pleasure.
An exclusive 10 day dieta with Master Healer Amanita Muscaria for a small & very limited group of women. Interested to know more? Comment below or email aislinn@aislinnkerckhaert.com to be on the secret invite list!

“Beauty's nothing but

the beginning of Terror

we're still just able to bear,

and why we adore it so

is because it serenely disdains

to destroy us.”

-Rainer Maria Rilke

This quote by Rilke is one of my all-time favorites. Why would we adore that which destroys us? Destruction of identity is perhaps the ultimate form of liberation. We don’t want to lose life, we want to embrace it by surrendering even more deeply into it. To do this, we must forgo all stories and preconceived notions of identity that keep us locked into past or future potentials. It is here we welcome the ultimate ecstasy, the uncontrollable and unkempt bliss of an Eternal Now.

(For the “mistress of bliss” need not be pretty, package-able or even “pure”. Whatever the circumstance she finds us in… snot dripping from our noses, tears raining down our cheeks, our lungs filled with smoke and sea, She is SO WELCOME!)

Devotion

For our grand finale, I’m honored to present you with a sonnet I wrote, in iambic pentameter, about a chapter-turning experience my partner of eight years and I shared together, just a couple of days before the new year.

TRUE LOVE’S PROMISE

My true love and I hiked into the woods

Butterflies in his belly, and I- cloaked

in red hood, paused beneath an old growth stump

Tracing carved hearts in bark and mossy clumps

‘Fore he called me along, across the bridge

Where lilypads puckered in watery ridge

Singing songs to the life we once had known

‘Til the breadth of a Great Tree serenaded

Our crowns, a thousand years wisdom came

Flourishing down, my love did kneel and speak

His truth, our sole witness dear Grandmother

Spruce, tears sprang from my eyes as I said “YES!”

And when we kissed we shared one breath, forging

Love’s Fire with the dragons of life and death.

Eskerrik asko!

Wopila

& Weblaho!

With love and fire,

Aislinn Kerckhaert

P.S. …Here’s a little preview of what’s coming this April:

The Dieta of Pleasure:
🌹 IN HER WINGS, WE WILL SING 🌹

A 10 day dieta with Master Healer Amanita Muscaria, for a small and very limited group of women. Interested to know more? Comment below or email aislinn@aislinnkerckhaert.com to be on the secret invite list.

P.P.S. Enjoy an alternate ending below…

Leave a comment

…A change has come! For those of you who subscribe to my formal newsletter, you’ll know that earlier this month I said an official goodbye to the name “Sings with Trees” for my business.

I shared the original announcement over a series of three parts. (If you missed them, you can read the first two here: With Every Birth Comes a Death + A Eulogy for Sings with Trees …and join my newsletter here.)

In light of this decision, I have decided to rename this Substack publication to:

“HOUSE OF THE ANCESTORS”

Read on to find out why and learn more about the meaning behind the name…

or as you’ll soon find out….

the name behind the meaning!

Moving forward, my business and practice which was once called “Sings with Trees” will now simply be- me…

Aislinn Kerckhaert.

When my guides let me know "Sings with Trees was dead” (a story I tell in Pt. 1 of the newsletter here…), I didn’t really know what would be next. I played with ideas for other names for months, but nothing felt right.

Then I realized, I am enough.

Everything I could hope to find in a name is encoded in the one I was given at birth.

If you will indulge me for a moment,

I’d love to share what’s alive within this name I’ve been blessed with…

“Kerck” translates to house of god, and “haert” means yard. Kerckhaert would be the name of one who lived near or looked after the Churchyard.

My last name was originally spelled “KercKhaert”, but when my great grandfather came over to the US from Belgium in the 1920’s, they misspelled his name at Ellis island as “Kerchaert”. In altering the spelling, the true meaning behind our name was obscured.

In Indo-European cultures and traditions, it was in the churchyards where the sacred trees once stood, that were the center of the villages' spiritual nexus.

An example would be the sacred Yew, many of which were felled by the Roman Soldiers who targeted these trees because they were the literal hearts of the people, and built churches over and beside their remains, making graveyards out of their stumps and holy hills.

Now, Churchyards are where the graves are dug, and the ancestors lay. In our collective human story, churchyards are equally known as sites of gatherings and sacred unions, as well as sites of devastation and horrors. They house glories and terrors, stories and bones, all of which are secret and mysterious, and hidden in plain sight.

This is the legacy encoded within my last name, and to me- what Kerckhaert really means is “House of the Ancestors”.

And so I’ve decided to RECLAIM the K, and with it, in one de-colonial swoop- reclaim the heart of this lineage.

And so I step onto my path as the Dream or Vision alive in the House of the Ancestors. And begin anew under the branch of this legacy that restores a “missing” or "stolen root” from my ancestral tree..

Thank you for joining me in this joyous reclamation!

Ancestral Healing can take many forms. I hope this inspires you to consider the famous question asked by Juliet herself- "What’s in a name?" May it unlock for you a journey of rediscovery, reclamation, and re-uniting with even deeper layers of your purpose, just as it has for me.

In joyous celebration,

Aislinn KercKhaert

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This weekend I was honored to attend the Chinook Winter Gathering for the third year in a row. Usually I go with my partner, Cliff, who is an enrolled member of the Ponca Tribe of Nebraska and whom the invitation is often extended to. However, this year, Cliff was in Seattle for the weekend. I wanted to share the experience with him, and with all of you, and so the first volume of Grief, Beauty, and Devotion- an idea I’ve had for some time for a special Newsletter, flowed through.

A day after Leonard Peltier was granted clemency, where he will now be transitioning into home confinement, a day after the puppet show of the inauguration that sends many spinning in the sticky web of spells woven- I wanted to share what is part letter of admiration/part hope anthem to some of the people who I consider to be the true leaders of our future- the indigenous people of Turtle Island and the world.

pictured above: Taíno zemí of Itiba Cahubaba, “Great Bleeding Mother”

Grief

I feel grief seep

between the bleachers

in the gymnasium of the community college

where the Chinook Winter Gathering is taking place



Coals from the Longhouse Fire

sit in the center of an almost empty arena,

marked with a single podium and mic

that is about to be filled with song and drum



They are witness to this annual ceremony

and will go back to the Longhouse after all the doings are done

to tell the ancestors who dwell there all they saw and heard



A young man crowned in spotted eagle feathers

descends the bleachers and leans toward the mic,

his brother in tow



They are cousins of the Chinook

and their families return to this gathering is a real historic moment he says

before launching into his Blessing song



As he sings, his body rocks

as if he’s readying to soar off of a promontory

straight into the sky

A shooting star in reverse



I watch from behind him

as two twenty foot tall wings

with spotted brown feathers

widen and whip a massive spirit wind

throughout the auditorium

cleansing us all

while our Little Helpers gather the grief that seeps

between the bleachers

and bring it to the center

of our Longhouse-in-Spirit

gathering it together

to make a medicine

that feeds the earth

Beauty



I sit behind four Indigenous women

who I recognize from previous years



One wears the ocean as dress that

she made herself with reclaimed yarn, she tells me

as she happily knits away at a new piece

that looks like a Golden Sun



When they get up to speak

I cry

just as I’ve cried every year before

when they share their story



this is the year it will happen they say

the first ceremonial canoe journey

to return to their peoples’ home

in 300 years



The canoe will swim again

in Semana Bay of the Dominican Republic

where humpbacks return to birth their children



My eyes have become inlets

I can’t tell anymore if water is flowing into me

or if it’s flowing out



“The canoe is made out of the Ceiba tree” a short haired woman draped in alpaca and roses tells us

“It's the Sacred Tree of the Taíno people.”



When they come back to sit on the bleachers

I gather courage and ask

if there’s anyway I can follow their journey



Do they have an Instagram or

maybe even a newsletter?



The elder shakes her head

the short haired woman says with a smile and a shrug

“No, this is our way. We travel and share our words.”



I nod and thank them

and think of my friends who would love to pray for this

and in that moment know I will pray from them too

Devotion



A song rings out

and a chorus of

three uncles, five teenage boys, their mother and her four year old son, and little  baby girl who is dancing

booms forth



This Grande Rhond family

carry the weight of a thousand ancestors singing behind them



When the reverberations reach my bones,

an ocean wave blooms from the seat of the elder in front of me

and crashes over me

with a Mother Goddess inside



She tells me, Yes daughter,

in your lifetime the dams will be broken

the canoes returning to their bays

are an essential part of this sacred equation

where what is given back

breeds and breathes what is to come



And when they do

the whales will change their song

to how it once was

in the days before people forgot

that a canoe gives life to the people

just as mothers give milk to their young

greek

> āmēn: IT IS TRUTH. IT IS CERTAIN. <



basque

ESKERRIK ASKO! : THANK YOU!



gaelic

go raibh maith agat, a chara, agus slán: thank you, friend, and goodbye.

P.S. I have some big news to share with you soon, my friends! Stay tuned…

P.P.S. Looking to be in community around your walk with Spirit? Join The Fountain: a Cauldron of Connections for Emissaries of the Natural World. Our next meeting is on Feb. 12th.

Odd behaviors can arise following a traumatic brain injury.

I distinctly remember, in the days following my last concussion (which took place nearly two years ago), feeling so deeply and strongly compelled to buy NAIL POLISH.

Of course, it had to be the organic, funky-colored kind that the Astoria Co-op had in stock from a fun small business in portland.

In those first few days, I became so hyper focused on needing to have my nails painted.

As someone who almost never paints their nails, or thinks much of it, this came a little bit as a surprise.

But in hindsight I think it was about something much deeper than a new fashion choice or desire to be trendy revealing itself to me.

It was about my inner child, my deep sense of a loss of control, and a small act of self kindness and self care that I could give myself as the totality/enormity of what had just occurred really began to set in for me.

I wanted my nails to be blue, like the bottom of the ocean floor.

I had this deep sense that I could look down at them, and recognize that I was now underwater.

They were a reminder, and when I painted them- I painted them horribly!

Normally I’m very dexterous and skilled at such things, but in the wake of this brain injury I had lost the refined motor control, and sparkling blue and purple polish ended up all over my fingers.

I wiped them clean and painted them again and again. Trying to meet the edges of my nail beds, and always missing.

It was incredibly frustrating, and I cried a lot.

In this way it was a gift that kept me present to and open to my grief. I couldn’t yet comfortably grieve the fact that I had just experienced a life changing injury, but I could comfortably grieve the fact that I kept “messing up” my nail polish.

It became a window into those deeper waves that were readying themselves to emerge.

My ever deepening reminder of being at the bottom of the ocean.

Later that week, many tears streamed, and memories of my earlier concusssions/head injuries (which I experienced in my early 20’s) washed out of me. Stuck energy and frozen instances leaving the body.

But what emerged most of all was the deepest of grief around the whales…

I felt that I could feel them underwater…their frustration and their pain at not being able to hear as clearly as they could even 50 years ago, when the noise pollution was barely a fraction of what it was now.

I wailed with and wailed for the whales. I was told by helpers and friends that the whales song was being replicated by artificial technology, and used against them to misguide their migrations around the heart of the mother ocean.

As the pain of this truth struck my heart, the deepest of rages and griefs left me.

With my head injury, the constant stream of conversation from the Kontomblé and my spiritual helpers stopped.

Instead, waves of downloads would wash over me after these instances of deep release and purge.

I would rage, scream, cry…then silence…then instructions. Instructions and timelines for the decades to come.

Then- silence again.

This new found silence was distressing.

I had grown so used to their constant accompaniment. Their voices and guidance so familiar, as if it had been my own. All day, every day, for many years.

Inside the striking discord of that silence, I found I could swim.

I was submerged underwater, and my next initiation underway.

My initiation in remembering the language of sonar.

To Be Continued…

Pre-Solstice updates for Sings with Trees:

✨1:1 Divinations with the Kontomblé are now open for booking in January

🐋 I have 2 spaces open for Private Mentorship beginning early January. Start off your 2025 with 3-4 months of 1:1 support including Energy Medicine, Mentoring + Integration and my “Soul Doula” services. You can learn more + apply here.

🍄 Something is brewing in the mush-womb and will be birthing/unearthing soon…🌀👁️

“Mother Earth’s Dream” is a phrase I use often, and one I first heard from my guides, the Kontomblé (who are the Nature Spirits, or Little People of Burkina Faso). Inside a recent community call, a member of our group asked this question:  “What IS Mother Earth’s Dream?” 

Since I was channeling, I could feel my own mental response that naturally wanted to rise to the surface- pivot and take a back seat as my Ancestors, Guides and Guardians responses streamed in. 

What they had to say was quite enlivening. They showed that while they very well could attempt to “explain” this phrase, that it was meant to be poetic, and in its poetry was meant to be a key that unlocked and invoked something deep within us. They showed it was a sort of blueprint that we were meant to awaken to. 

My guides said in response, that rather than answer the question for her, they would like us all to ask this question every day. They said that what would most serve us in awakening is what the poetry of this “key” can unlock in each of us. 

So- what IS Mother Earth’s Dream?

Ultimately, it’s a question I feel I can’t answer for another- it’s a question that rather I would hope each and every one of us alive on earth who cares about Mother Earth’s flourishing and her livelihood, who regards her as a deity with her own consciousness, who recognizes her as an irreplaceable expression of the divine MOTHER would be willing and brave enough to ask. 

To ask it to our hearts, to ask it to the wind, to ask consciousness and the Universe- what is Mother Earth’s dream and how am I a part of making that into a reality?

It’s through following this request from my guides that my new apprenticeship program, WALKING WITH MOTHER EARTH’S DREAM was born. 

I too, was not exempt from the homework, I too- was asking this question each day and night as I went out to pray at my Earth shrine for a special initiation gateway that I was being guided through. 

In those four days of fasting and prayer, I received more insight and instruction. What follows is inspired by the messages that were given to me from my helpers who whispered from between the cedar branches after sunset each night….

Part Two

I invite you to listen to the first part of my poem response to the question “What IS Mother Earth’s dream?” in this spoken word video below:

Mother Earth’s dream is a dream we all carry.

It’s not the kind of dream that slips between your fingers, that is never made reality- it’s not meant to be elusive or tricky like that. 

Rather, it is the dream that lives inside your bones.

It is the lantern that lights your heart.

It is the song that blows open the wind pipes of your throat and howls out to the moonlight. 

Mother Earth’s dream is and always has been living within, and beneath, her story (our shared herstory).

It is like a blueprint of divine instruction that was seeded into her Light Body at the time she was conceived, and pre-created.

It is waiting to be liberated. 

This dream beckons us to shed our shackles of shame, to remove the chokers and braces that have been placed upon the throat of the Goddess (and all of Her Voices that lived/live inside our lineages) and DO something about it.

SAY something, BE something, SING something, SEE something, CREATE something…

And that “something” is none other than a more beautiful, kinder, wiser world. 

We all have seeds of this dream in our pockets. 

It’s time to take them out and plant them in the soil of our souls.

And if that soil seems dry- it’s time to get it REAL FERTILE by crying all those tears that need to be cried (...and haven’t yet) and acknowledge all those dreams that need to be acknowledged …(and are IMPLORING you to do so!) so that you can tell the world that you mean business. 

This is not the lifetime to sit on the sidelines, or even to hide out in the cave while the war happens right outside your entryway. 

The cave is a place you carry with you wherever you go, when your soul is allowed to be fully expressed and anchored into form. 

You become a walking refuge, a guiding light for those who need it most in shaky times. 

I’m talking to the leaders, I’m talking to the seers, I’m talking to the healers. 

The time to refine your gifts and put them to use is NOW. 

Will you deprive us of this holy venture? 

Will you deprive THEM (your ancestors) of the gift of celebrating you when you finally say YES to stepping into the prayer they’ve been praying into being for you for countless generations?

If the answer is No-

Then you’ve got your YES, my friend… 

WALKING WITH MOTHER EARTH’S DREAM IS CALLING YOU INTO HER THRESHOLD

To be a wyrd weaver, a sword/word carrier, and a spell-dispeller on her behalf!

Inside your very own heart, you’ll find your map! 

It’s as tender as a newborn calf

And the little people tickle it’s belly

With a hearty LAUGH 

Reminding you to pick up your STAFF

And take your first step…

Onto to PATH .

May it be SO!

dream the dream with us

WALKING WITH MOTHER EARTH’S DREAM is an apprenticeship in the art of divination, consisting of 5 ceremonial calls held over 5 weeks, beginning 11/17. Follow the button above to learn more about this program and join us!

Interested in my monthly community calls? You can join them for $44/month here.

The Equinox is a time of equal day and equal night, and because of this it is also a portal time. The light that is emitted from the sun in the days leading up to, and the days following an Equinox bring important codes and messages.

Last fall during the Equinox, the Kontomblé delivered a potent message. They showed that the light that was being transmitted during the window of last year’s Equinox was “planting seeds” in the “womb of the earth”.

The womb of the earth is a primordial realm beneath her mantle, where many ancient beings and earth-born deities dwell. Through the throes of Modernization, a significant amount of these ancient primordial beings and deities have been severed or cast away from the earth…and many doorways once held open by them, and stewarded by our Ancient Ancestors long ago have closed.

The Kontomblé have shown that these Ancient Ones must re-enter our world through Mother Earth’s Womb in order to be “reborn” and reclaim  their mantles in their original, ancient form.

As future Ancestors, we are being asked to remember how to be stewards of these gateways, as they re-form and regenerate themselves.

Even in the face of climate change, and ongoing threats to indigenous realities and cultures, as well as the Natural World, there is hope.

This hope is a candle lit in our hearts, and the Ancestors ask us to let it grow into a roaring flame.

As they showed me this vision, the Kontomblé were rejoicing, because the light that was seeded during that particular Equinox portal was laying the groundwork for a massive incoming wave of repair and return. An example may be the deity of a holy mountain, or an ancient boulder, or the dragon of a river or sea.

Now they show that what is needed is for us to  “water the seeds”. We can do this by gathering and grieving the missteps that humanity (and all that has misguided humanity..!) have made against nature, and against the children of the world.

By coming together to offer up the medicine of our grief, we generate a sweetness that is meant to be a welcomed offering to the beings that long to return to us!

It’s a simple recipe…

As we remember-we return to Her.

As we return to Her,

these Ancient Primordial Beings

are able to Return too!

If this speaks to you, I invite you to join the Kontomblé and I for Voices of the Starlight Womb: Equinox Ceremony at Wanderland Rainforest

This day-long, in person ritual immersion includes a grief circle, elemental ritual and song, and a divination with the Kontomblé, where we will hear from them directly in sacred ceremony!

sign up today!

P.S. (And for those of you far away/ unable to make it this time, consider 1:1 Private Divination or my 1:1 Mentorship Rooted Wisdom, Rising Voice with the Kontomblé and I!)

*these reflections were first shared on my blog at singswithtrees.com in June 2022*

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Ever since I was little, there is a certain muscle in my throat that will quiver and twitch when a particular depth and level of grief begins to rise up out of me.

It is as if I am trying to transform into a dolphin, or creature of the sea, and develop gills, as if my ability to breath under water is attempting to grow back and just might have a chance to fully come into form, depending on how many tears I cry.

When the tears come, and the muscle moves, an ancient memory rumbles within me.

One that has been carried through the generations, in the lineage of my soul as well as the lineage of my physical body.

The murmurs of memories were slow at first- I saw the slitting of the throat, the temple, the other Oracle priestesses.

I heard the whispers of the Kontomblé many years ago, tell me that they attempted to break my connection to the whales throughout lifetimes.

The fear that was unveiled with even the slightest overturning of memory was monumental- and the moving out of that grief over the years allowed the pieces of a particular lifetime (and perhaps a large collective memory) to emerge with in.

I saw that a lineage of priestesses and Oracles once lived who were closely connected to and worked with the whales, and dolphins. In many villages there were circular temples where the voices of the whales would be brought through, to bring the stories of the history of Mother Earth into being.

There is something that happens when human and whale come together. A galactic memory is uncovered. A record of the time on Mama Gaia, yes- and even more so- a memory of the times before this planet was born.

What I came to see, over time (and now now others have seen/ re-membered, too) was how these oracles were hunted and in particular, their throats were targeted. The slitting of the throat was not just to end the lifetime, but to harbor a certain type of soul damage that would be carried throughout lifetimes. As of to say to the lineage - “dare to speak the truth, and you will perish”

The time of reweaving the connection between the woman and the whale has arrived again.

They carry ancient prophecies in their songs, and by being those who deliver their frequencies above water, we allow a dimension of these prophetic utterings to anchor into physical reality.

First we release the trauma, then we uncover the memory. As we uncover the memory, we also unveil the gifts. The lost arts of the oracles are being re-membered all over the planet. Still so much richness and re-membering awaits us.

Allow yourself to speak, to sing, to listen.

Allow yourself to swim and sing with the whales.

And so it is!

With Love,

Aislinn

Last march, I held a free call in honor of the whales and the children of the earth. It was called “In the Belly of the Whale: An Ancestralization for Mother Earth’s Children”. I’ve recently made the replay of this ceremonial experience available for anyone who feels called.

If you enjoy reading about the whales, and feel you have a connection to them too, I invite you to join in this free call and ceremony held in devotion to, and in honor of the whales, in response to their messages for humanity at this time:

ACCESS THE FREE CALL HERE

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Dragon Eyes are awakening all over the planet. 👁️

This is what the Little People have asked me to share with you today.

The first time I saw a Dragon Eye was during one of my first Inipi ceremonies. My awareness expanded up and out, and I was given an aerial view of our lodge, with the hot stones in the center. I could see how the energy field of our ceremony formed into an Eye of a Dragon, blinking and awakening with every prayer woven, every song sung, every drumbeat that echoed into the earth.

Our lodge became an Eye of Mother Earth herself, that could open to the sky and welcome all who sat inside of it to begin the sacred process of Remembering. 

To sit inside the eye of the dragon, is to begin to see with the eyes of the dragon. 

These eyes of awakening are vortices of energy and geographical places on the planet where collective womb-consciousnesses, aka Membranes-of-the-Mother, are being Re-membered. 

They consist of Source emanations from Mother Earth's core. Her Womb is making contact with the surface, and village by village restoring the ancient architecture of Right Relationship.

In their energetic form, these vortices take on the shape of a toroidal field that emerges from a central point. This central point acts as the “cervix” or “pupil” of that emanation, magnetizing and directing the energy it cultivates.

The result is an energetic dome-like structure, that when seen from an aerial view by the astral traveler or “frequent flier” of the unseen realm, resembles an eye of a Dragon. This is why the Kontomblé call these energy points Dragon Eyes. 

found images of earth-eyes in the natural world, Dragon Eyes look similar to this, in energetic form

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Dragon Eyes can be homes, they can be villages, they can be entire forests. But most of all - they are places where ancient ecosystems are coming to life again. For all to be in Right Relationship once again, we humans must be willing to live and listen in accordance with Natural Laws even more than (or just as much as) we do with the “so-called” laws of our governing systems.

As we know, Natural Laws and Human-made laws often come into conflict with one another. The precedent of recent generations has been to override Nature, resulting in the destruction of Indigenous Peoples, Cultures and traditions, and the Global Identity of the Village. This is the way of the old patriarchal paradigm, and the way of the future has another pathway in store.

The Kontomblé are holding a vision that these Dragon Eyes are places where the sentient beings living inside of, and composing natural, ancient and indigenous ecosystems are being not only remembered, but protected. Places where under the eyes of the “so called” human-made law they will come to be Seen.

The Little People have shown me that they always have and will continue to play a key role in this process. Since the beginning of time they have been assisting our Ancient Ancestors with the creation of culture, tradition and ritual.

Ritual allows all parts of the Ecosystem to be nourished and fed.

As I write this, I’m reminded of a message brought through from the Kontomblé in a divination I gave to a beautiful soul. In it, they said:

“An Ecosystem is an Equal system.”

The consciousness of the village cannot exist without an Ecosystem. Villages are not only for humans to be in relationship with other humans- but for humans to be in relationship with plants, animals, the elements, the land, and otherworldly beings too. The full participation of all of these players is required for the identity of a village to take on a functional form, and in time, to flourish.

While many have forgotten this, the Kontomblé show me that there is clearly a process of ecological revolution underway. A process that will continue to unfold throughout (and likely well beyond) our lifetimes. 

This is a process that can be nourished and supported by repairing our relationships to the Little People and Spirits of the land.

The Kontomblé continue this message, sharing that many of the Indigenous Little People of Turtle Island are on high alert. They show that forces of adversity know that these Dragon Eyes are awakening, and do not like it.

While it is unlikely that these negative expressions of consciousness could ultimately stop Mother Earth’s organic process of awakening, what alarms the Little People is the damage that is still being done in attempts to counter this awakening.

Many of the Indigenous Little People have their dwelling spaces, their ancient homes and holy places inside the emerging membranes of these Dragon Eyes, or Vortex points upon the Ancient Dragon ley lines. They fear that in the name of greed, consumption and extraction, their ancient homes will continue to be destroyed.

stills from The Seer and the Unseen

A great example of this can be seen in the film The Seer and the Unseen, which tells the tale of Ragga Jónsdóttir, a seer who possesses the ability to see and talk to the elves in her homeland in Iceland. In this film, the elves implore Ragga to stand up and speak out on their behalf when the local government threatens to build a road through a sacred lava field that is their home, potentially destroying an ancient boulder that is their sacred church. Ragga and her community are able to make a notable impact as they protest and ultimately negotiate with the local officials on behalf of the elves.

In response to many situations such as this all over the globe, the Little People call their Allies forward. They call their Oracles and Bridges forward. They are call their Protectors, their Listeners, their Rememberers, and their Old Friends to step forward and be a Voice for the Unseen once again.

They show the path ahead becomes more clear as we quiet our heads and follow our hearts. This can look like listening to their messages, heeding their call, and making offerings at their doorsteps when we find ourselves at the entryways of their sacred dwelling chambers.  

In response to their call, I’ve created a 3 Part Ritual Immersion called Roots of Repair: the Call of the Little People. In this gathering, we aspire to restore dignity to the bonds that have been broken, and step forward with open hearts as we answer their call.

I invite you to join me in sacred circle where we'll come together to hear the messages they have for us in group divination, experience an Ancestralization, and open to receiving nourishing Energy Medicine. Early enrollment is open until this Friday at midnight. You can sign up here. 

Join Roots of Repair

P.S.

If you feel you may be living on or near a Dragon Eye, chances are that the Kontomblé will have much to say to you! They love to bring through helpful + activating messages regarding Land Sovereignty, Protection and Stewardship, as well as messages regarding one's Life Purpose and Ancestral Medicines. You can learn more about the Divination process here.

Dear Reader,

Here is Part 3 of the series of posts that were originally shared on IG last week. They had a heart-rendering response from my community, with lots of love + support overflowing in the comments sections of each one of the posts. I am deeply grateful that the messages from our whale kin are being heard.

This third piece completes, for now, the story of the Fin whale that beached near my home on February 12th.

In response to the whales call, I am hosting a Free Healing Ceremony, “In the Belly of the Whale: An Ancestralization for Mother Earth’s Children” on March 9th from 12-2pm PT on Zoom. Over 70 of you have joined so far, and I trust that by coming together we will generate some potent ripples. You can sign up here.

join in the belly of the whale

This story would not be complete without me sharing the third call the Fin whale made, this time of my community.

After seeing the whale, I received the message to gather a small group of folks together to honor the whale, and support it’s process of Ancestralization. They also asked us to honor the children. They showed to do it on Sunday, which I found out in retrospect had actually been “world whale day”. 🥹♥️

The whale had moved 3 miles north, and after five days of tides and movement, had greatly decayed.

When we gathered by the whale, this time there was a much larger crowd. The lack of reverence and respect was hard to witness. Folks prodding the body of the whale with their feet, taking videos of its spilled intestines and prodding it with sticks, a man even attempting to rip an exposed vertebrae off of the spinal cord. 😩One of the mama guardians and a midwife with our group approached him to let him know this was illegal (taking whale parts/bones).

Our group of ten gathered in a circle and wove our prayers and stories. Each one of us had messages from our guides, ancestors or the whales that was voiced to honor this being. We felt the call of the children deeply, deeply. My love @cliffponca sang a prayer song as we built an altar on the sand by the belly of the whale. Offerings of cedar, milk, honey, smoked salmon, flowers, blueberries, sesame seeds and coconut flakes were laid out. As well as offerings of special significance. As soon as we laid them out, the waves came and accepted them. Soon after, a second shrine was built in its place to continue to hold the frequency of reverence, and the waves left this one. 🌊

Some onlookers caught on and held the anchor of respect. ⚓️ Others took videos of us and became spectators, or backed away. Two young girls ran up to me and asked me what we were doing.

“Making offerings to the whale!” I told them. “Do you want to help us?”

They both nodded sheepishly and accepted a handful of coconut flakes, offering them to the whale.

We do this because the world needs an example of what it looks like to return to place of right relationship. To a place of reverence and respect.

When adults poke and prod the intestines of the whale, and kick its side with their boots, children see this as an example and they do the same.

When adults make offerings to the whale, the children recognize this through remembering, and they want to participate too. They follow our example. This was pointed out to me by one of the women who gathered with us in circle, a veterinarian and animal communicator. My mentorship student and gifted whale oracle, Lulia also joined us, and she too received a message from the whale later that evening that you can read on her page @blue.oracle . It was beautiful and came through entirely in rhyme!

For those of you who have been following me for some time, you know that this is a continuation. You know the story of the two young whales who beached last year. And so you’ll know that when this third one came, I had to respond by taking another step. We had to call community forward to respond to their call. Now, I carry the thread of this prayer forward into my extended, online, and global community. 🪡🌎🐋

I’m responding to this call by creating a ceremony next week, in honor of the whales and the children of the earth. This gathering is free to all. I will share the transmission from the whales live, we will have a sacred prayer circle, followed by an Ancestralization ceremony for the children of the earth.

This means Palestinian children, Trans children, Congolese children, Whale children, plant children, ALL children, even including the lost children hiding inside masks of the oppressors who have perished, too. 💦♥️💦

Click the button below to register for this free Ancestralization ceremony. Donations to Gaza relief funds and Whale protection funds will be encouraged.

Thank you to all for your outpouring of love and support. I trust this means the whales message is being received deep into our hearts and bellies, and I know this means the world to them! 🐋♥️💦

Join In the Belly of the Whale

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painting by: Autumn Skye

Dear Reader,

This past week, I shared the story of the Fin Whale that beached twenty minutes from my home here on the Oregon Coast. This was shared over a series of 3 posts on Instagram. Due to the length and nature of the content, Substack feels like the correct home for this story. So I am re-publishing Part 1 + 2 here in it’s full length form for ease of reading.

In honor of the whales, I will be re-sharing some older posts and stories from my blog in the coming weeks + months featuring messages from the whales, including the story of the first two whales that beached here last January.

In response to the whales call, I am hosting a Free Healing Ceremony, “In the Belly of the Whale: An Ancestralization for Mother Earth’s Children” on March 9th from 12-2pm PT on Zoom. You can sign up here.

join in the belly of the whale

Part One

Two weeks ago, a Fin whale beached here on the Oregon coast, where Iwāl (the Columbia River) meets the sea, at a beach twenty minutes from my home.

Fin Whales are the second largest cetaceans in the ocean. This whale was a young child, and still stretched a mighty 46 feet along the shore. 

I felt the immediate call from my guides, the Kontomblé, to visit the whale and tend to his vessel after the necropsy was held the next day. 

As I approached the whale, I felt a distinct shift in the energy field about 300 feet away from the body. I asked what this was, and was directed to make offerings of milk to the ocean. As I did, I could see that I had entered the energy field of the pod. The whale began speaking to me, showing me that just as each whale has its own energy body, so does the pod have an energy body. The whale called this the “podal consciousness”. 

He showed me they use this consciousness to communicate with each other during migrations, feeding, sleeping and the tending of songlines. This podal field of consciousness was frazzled and fractured with the loss of their little relative. 

My offering was a signal to the rest of his pod, that his body had landed here, and was now in good hands. That his crossing would now be tended with reverence and love, at the recognition and hands of the little people. 

There was a sense of relief as the pod registered this acknowledgment. A final release and letting go was allowed as the mother of the Fin whale received the telepathic “sonar” sent through this message. She had been grieving, and at a loss for what had happened to her child, who washed up ashore entangled in rope, with markings from a brush with orcas on his tail and body. 

As I continued to walk toward the whale, the little people dropped in more clearly. 

They said:

“Just as humans have a causal field, which houses their soul level agreements, the whales have a podal field of consciousness, which houses the agreements and song seeds of the pod. Humans used to have this too. This is what we call the consciousness of the village. The humans must remember their podal consciousness once again.”

I then reached the body of the whale, which was being gently lapped and rocked by the incoming tide, and removed my boots and got my offerings ready. There was a small group of folks gathered around, witnessing him. Children playfully running up to the body, back and forth with the tide, and their parents taking pictures. Amidst this absence of reverence, there was still a palpable sense of awe and grief.

The whale said “You know what to do”.

He showed me taking handfuls of rose petals off of the bouquet I brought, and offering them into the ocean at the tail and around the body of the whale.

As I began to release the petals into the ocean, my pants rolled up and my feet wet, a deeper sense of reverence and respect began to settle in around us.

When I got to the whale's belly, on the side that was still intact and had not been cut by the necropsy, a tall, large Bear of a man walked up to me and looked me in the eye, and a flash of understanding settled between us. I reached out my hand and dropped a palm full of yellow rose petals into his hand, and he nodded in thanks. He walked up to the whale and made his prayer. 

Another Elder came over, and he accepted some roses, as I approached the head of the whale. He was an artist and a zoologist who specialized in sea birds. He chatted with me for a few minutes about the beauty of the whale. 

Next, lay a string of pieces and parts of the whale's body, strung along the shore. These needed tending. I walked up to them, piece by piece, organ by organ, surrounding them all with rose petals, song and prayer. 

A whale tongue, cut out and laying on the shore. 

A whale's heart, collapsed into the sand with arteries so fresh you could see the blood pooling out of them into the sand. 

I took my time with the whale, offering prayers, tears and a listening ear. Spending time in communion with the Mother who was still mourning the loss of her son. I made a special offering at the side of his belly that faced the sea, that was cut open and spilling into the water. 

And when it was time, I began my walk home. It was then that the message from the whale really sunk in.

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Part Two

I have been holding this close to my heart as it brings me an incredible amount of grief to share it.

I love my whale relatives deeply and the size of their message feels so monumental, that being tasked with the gift to relay it to you is deeply emotional. As I write this, I have tears of gratitude, I feel the sadness of the many nations of little people and beings of the natural world whose soul songs sing inside of this message. 💦💔💦

After tending the Fin whale with prayers and offerings of roses, the message of his whale relatives set in. Walking along the beach I heard them say:

“This whale, and the two whales who washed ashore last year were all our children.
They were ALL children.
Why is it that the children are choosing to wash ashore here? To land here? 
Why is it the children?”

They said:
 “This modern world sends you Humans messages every day, overtly and directly, through the screens in your palms and on the television, through the media and the news, that this world is an unsafe place for children. Children are dying everyday in front of your eyes.”

They continued, 
“The modern world also sends constant subliminal messaging, that this world is not a safe place for children. 

What happens when an adult is told, overtly and subliminally, day in and day out, that this world is unsafe for children? What does that say to the child inside them? 

In a world where most of the adults are children, this is a dire message. This tells the adults that they are unworthy of following their instincts and following their dreams.

This tells the adults that they are unworthy of living. And when the adults do not believe that they are worthy of being here, they are unable to stand up and protect the children of the younger generations who need it most. They are unable to speak their truth and stand for what they believe in.”

They said:
“The antidote to this, the solution, is simple.
The solution is that YOU must become a bigger frequency than these frequencies of oppression.

The leaders must step forward and emit a frequency of love and ferocity that is so BIG, that the overt and obvious, as well as the subliminal messages that are sent out each day must fall to the wayside.

This is the medicine of the whales.

This is the position that we whales hold in the world. We emit the frequency of love and remembering. And we can no longer hold it on our own. Our children have washed ashore with this message imbued into their hearts and souls. Our call is for you to finally hear it.”’

💦💔💦

It hurts my heart deeply to live in a world where such a level of hatred exists. Where Palestinian children are dying every day, where trans youth are targeted, bullied and hurt. Where my black, brown and indigenous brothers and sisters are subject to danger because of this cruelty. It makes me angry. It lights a fire deep inside. This fire says I will not be put out. I am here as a ferocious protector of the sacred, I am here on behalf of the innocence in all of life.

The whales implore us to carry a frequency of love so big that no adversity can overtake us.

This is what they are asking of us.

This is the way forward. 

Will we stand up and answer their call? 

Let me know how this moves you in the comments below.

With Love,

Aislinn

P.S. In response to the whales call, I am hosting a Free Healing Ceremony, “In the Belly of the Whale: An Ancestralization for Mother Earth’s Children” on March 9th from 12-2pm PT on Zoom. You can sign up here:

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{This essay was first written for the students of my mentorship program, I Call You Home, devoted to Ancestral Regeneration and Ritual in 2021.}

The Dragons are beings who preside over vortices and power places, where ley lines meet and converge on the planet, and in the cosmos.

Contrary to popular belief, dragons are not all about fire. In my experience, dragons have just as much to do with water, if not even more to do with it than fire. According to a trusted Lakota Elder who knows these beings intimately, in his tradition and way Dragons are said to live within waterfalls. 

Dragons are the epitome and embodiment of electromagnetic frequencies that hold our planet / plane of existence together. In the Otherworld, their purpose and duty lies in that they are very much birth-ers of this world. Their energetic bodies help hold our world and the Otherworld together. 

In the physical reality, a dragon may take form or shape if they so choose. But what is even more important to understand - is that the dragon, in its material-less, formless state-is so much more than a spirit being.

The dragon is a web weaver of consciousness. The dragon IS the ley line, it IS the keeper of the waterfall, it IS a guardian of an entire region or convergence of regions. Dragons work together, with all of the elements, to make sure that the polarity of the earth is properly maintained. 

source: Alexander Skachkov

They do this by maintaining a balance between the poles of the earth- north and south, as well as by being embodiments of the tectonic plates, and the waterways that connect these plates-above and beneath the earth. 

The dragon song that my guides, the Kontomblé speak of, that they call up and out of us is so much more than one particular song. It is a state of being. A way of being in and breeding more communion with these ancient relatives.

The dragons are our Ancestors. Many aspects of our DNA stems from these ancient world builders. Ancient Dragon DNA is indigenous in nature. 

Thwarted/distorted dragon DNA may in modern times be referred to as the “reptilian races”.

Ancient Dragons are indeed reptiles, but their DNA in its purest form is of the Original Lifeforms {Builder Races} to walk and tend this planet, or the beings of the First Age who built our world. It is something that we wish to bring alive ourselves, to reconcile with and re-member, while healing the distortions of the thwarted / purported /harvested DNA lines.

The dragon song is an ancient one, sung in ancient tongue, and emanated from an Eternal way of being. When we visit the waterfalls and make offerings of crystals to the dragons, or any other form of offering, and sing our ancestral songs, we feed them. We bring them medicines and we also revive an exchange of information that is coming from deep within the earth, in other lands.

The dragons are awakening. All over the planet (and cosmos!) they are helping us to remember what Earth was like before the harvesting and removal of the ancient Matriarchal lines began. 

Them coming to life in an electromagnetic sense, shifts the vibrations on the planet, so that we may all together begin to embody a state of being, which is closer and close to how it once was before “the fall” from a higher dimensional way of being on Mama Earth. This was her original design- to be a place to experience, in the physical, the vast expansiveness of the consciousness of Love. Prior to the many races of Mama Gaia being seeded with distortions, the dragons had a role in maintaining the frequencies and holding these realms together.

When the “fall” from higher dimensional way of being occurred (differing in time because we are now living in the convergence of so many timelines) the dragons went “underground”- they became the ground, they became the magnetism that lives and operates within the waterways and ley lines.

When we make an offering to a dragon, we feed and raise its biomagnetism, we invite its Spirit to embody the earth plane more and more through the elements it presides over, thus unlocking/opening up a higher frequency which enables our DNA to vibrate on a higher frequency.  

When we reunite a dragon with the frequencies / energies of a ley line that it is not presiding over, through elemental offerings, we re-unite it with the Spirits of its long lost relatives. It is as if we are helping old friends meet after centuries apart. Disjointed pieces of the Mother Earth Grid, which are innately connected to the Matriarchal Grid Lines, join together again. They are Re-Member-ed. 

art by Geng Kun

And so, to be an earth steward is to be a Tender of Dragons.

To connect with your Ancestors is to connect with the Dragons.

To be a priestess of the waters is to be a Priestess of the Dragons.

The dragons are ready for the feminine to Rise up, to be Re-Member-ed!

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- - - A Dragon Prayer - - -

I invite you to speak this prayer aloud to connect deeply with the energies of the Dragons, and add your own words and song as you feel called:

I bow deeply to the Sophia Mother Dragon and birther of our Universe,

I bow sweetly to the Elemental Dragons,

of Earth, Fire, Wind and Air,

I sing my soul song into the waterfalls of their Being.

I offer my tears as a sweet nectar of revival.

I trust and know in my heart that all grief that flows from my belly turns to honey at their feet, and roses at their bosoms.

In deepest reverence to the Mother and Father dragons that tend to and dwell with in the inner earth, in the bellies and roots of the mountains, in the inner earth rivers and waterways, and in the skies as tenders and keeepers of our atmosphere,

I offer my voice and my elation.

and so I…*sing!*

With Love + Devotion,

Aislinn

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digital collage by Sings With Trees

Welcome to part two of Becoming- Motion 2 …the continuation of something wonderful and wild. Written earlier this year, this is me allowing my subconscious to meet my wild woman’s tongue in a prowling scrawl meets oceanic devotional poetry. I’m exploring expression amidst archetypal descent. The video below is me reciting my favorite and also juiciest part of this poem. Text to the poem found below. Enjoy the journey…

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1. There is one way to be a writer, and

   There is a way to NOT be a

   Writer. 
   
   

   One way, is to write + read + recapitulate,
   + type it up + publish 
   It + share it with the world. 
   
   The other way is to write for others

   But hide it inside your book, 

   Holding it all just for you-
   
   

   Why?- you cannot say, because

   You don’t really take the time

   To look at or think of it. 
   
   

   Instead, you hoard it away- 

   Afraid of what it may unlock 

   In the world!
   
   

   Or even worse- (better yet, truly)

   What it may unlock in you. 
   
   

   When you write for others- for yourself, 

   There comes a point when it 

   Is time to start sharing what

   Web has been spun 

   perfectionism tells you to just 

   keep spinning, 
   
   

   but then it never

   gets done. 
   

   ---

   
   
   

2. MY HEART LONGS to WRITE + SING, 

   To enter a PORTAL of CREATION

   Where the fruits I WEAVE may 

   Be tasted by others because

   I know that their

   Balance + their harmony, 

   Their notes of tart + sweet

   Are rare. 
   
   

   I listen to the echoes inside

   Other authors’ bones. 

   I feel a resonance inside 

   My own + in the  whippering

   Hummmmmmmm

   It tells me to 

   Start writing
   
   

   Breaking hearts bleed words 

   Onto the page

   I wish I could tell

   You how + why my 

   Heart was broken 

   I feel a deep betrayal- 

   But from whom, I cannot 

   Directly say, 
   
   

   And so- I want to direct 

   It toward those beings who I 

   Hold most dear + most close-
   For they are my safest

   Mirrors. 
   
   My holy possibilities who will

   Never let me down- 
   And in the safety of their 

   Canopies, 

   I can cry and become 

   Untangled. 
   
   

   I can mourn what ancient

   Thread inside myself has

   Been lost + lost itself 

   Over + over again. 
   
   

   I can come to the bitter + 

   Humble realization that

   No matter how many years I

   Grow the heart of the

   Grief- does not go away. 
   
   

   Instead, it asks of me to be 

   Held Up like gentle cup, 

   Housing butterfly wings, 

   Holding rain drops as clear as 

   A quiet night’s sky speckled with

   Starlight-
   
   

   It asks me, begs me, to

   Drink of it. 
   
   

   To drink up this luminescent 

   Medicine until I myself 

   Become a butterfly of grief. 
   
   

   I fly from house to house, 

   Fluttering my wings at the 

   Doorsteps of strangers 
   
   

   Singing to them with my tiny 

   Butterfly voice that speaks in 

   A vibration that only trees +

   Holy things can hear. 
   
   

   The voice tiny to humans, 

   But insurmountable 

   To God’s ear. 
   
   

   I pray that these people all

   Feel their bodies, 

   All come into their

   Hearts + 

   Discover the suits of the unholy 

   That they have 

   Been cast to wear. 
   
   

   I pray that they too will

   Peel off their suits + wander

   Out into the 

   Embrace of the night

   Sky + howl 

   At quiet things. 
   
   

   I pray that tears of remembering

   May fall from their

   Eyes like ashes

   Collecting around the

   Holiest of fires- 
   
   

   Lit by the Ancestors themselves 

   Who watch + behold + 

   Space hold + tend to us

   From those friends who twinkle

   Above- 
   
   

   Our star homes, 

   Our celestial planets

   Our ancient encumberings. 
   
   

   I watch as they twist

   The vines of memories, pressing

   The fruits of their 

   Organs like grapes until 

   The sweetest of juices + richest 

   Of nectars flows down 

   Their backs, weaving threads 

   Of glittering gold into their

   Spines.
   
   

   I let myself drop

   Down out of my 

   Butterfly form, and I become 

   A human being, kneeling on 

   The grass, hands + skirt in the

   Mud, wailing with a rivetous

   Grief that is simultaneously laden 

   With joy because deep in my

   Heart I know we are

   Feeling again, we are FEELING 

   And the world needs this. 
   
   

   We are FEELING and the 

   World NEEDS us.
   
   

   My tears sink into the 

   Grass + form into earthworms.
   
   

   They eat the dirt of

   The unholies, they

   Eat all that 

   Was left of our Mother when

   She was robbed of her 

   Richness + through their very

   Nature + existence they return 

   That richness to her in the 

   Form of minerality. In the 

   Form of the restoration of 

   All that is that has been forgotten. 
   
   

   The richness reaches up out 

   of the earth + holds me 

   In an oven-warm embrace, 
   
   

   Cooling my fears + tending the 

   Embers with in me again, so 

   That they may come to 

   Flame in ways 

   Daring + unimaginable. 
   
   

   My soul is now a kite + so I 

   Stand with the 

   Oncoming winds.
   
   

   The bellows of these arid

   Beasts of the night sky 

   Billow my skirts around me 

   I am a wild dancer now

   Dancing in starlight

   The wild tongues 

   Of our Ancestresses

   Pour forth 

   Through me  +

   Out of me. 
   
   

   I am gifted with the 

   Copper tongue
   
   I am gifted with the 

   Starlight golden hue
   

   I speak now only

   In auras- 
   

   And my sisters 

   Hear my every prayer 

   In color. 
   
   

   Pinks, Blues, Reds + Golds 

   Fuschias + Violets, 

   Petals of roses + borage + forsythia yellow 
   
   

   All pour out of my throat 

   Together, we sing in starlight 

   Languages and 

   Many colors pour forth. 
   
   

   We are the goddesses

   Internal firework

   We spray an oceanic

   Wave of devotion across

   All ethers, all 

   Dimensions of reality.
   
   

   We are our ancient 

   Grandmothers, come back in new

   Form, come back into  holy

   Expression 

   Through the avenues of 

   Our skin + bone, 

   We are whole again 

   And we are ready. 
   
   

   Ready to greet the 

   Morning sun, who sweetly  / gently 

   Glides over eastern horizons 

   With a glint of 

   Courage in our eyes…
   
   

   With hearts solid + 

   Anchored in our 

   New Earth’s untouchable 

   blessedly-penetrable, ever- fertile + 

   Ever blossoming 

   Possibility, 

   And so it is. 

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1. Finding my way to sweetness each day
   is an arduous journey. 
   
   Just as I can see the Mountain’s top-
   so I see the sweetness of my day awaiting me. 
   
   

   Yet, when I wake-
   a feeling like a certain quota of accomplishment
   or human connection must be met
   before the sweetness finds me, or I find it,
   descends.
   
   

   A feeling of dullness- as in -
   being duly separated from the
   Lush and Luscious Disaster of HOPE. 
   
   …Who speaks now? Is it the Pope?
   
   

   I turn toward my Mother and I tell her I’m sorry,
   for I’ve held on to this pearl of my life so closely and completely
   I may have forgotten how to share it!
   
   

   I may never have been taught or told- And so I had to Remember. 
   

   ---

2. 
   
   We “think” remembering happens on our own. 
   But this is never the case. 
   
   

   There are always the unseen ones, whispering-
   venturing between this veil + that,
   tending to us, tending to our tidings,
   pointing us in the direction of duty. 

   
   
   I long to climb into the ocean,
   to crawl + slurp my way into her belly-
   Like a slow moving caterpillar -
   Before it molts + turns. 
   
   
   
   Like a leg of meat roasting on a pit,
   before it is scoured + devoured by Ancestral bellies….
   
   
   I long to Re-Member Her- 
   The Wise Woman in me. 
   The Goddess returned + reunited 
   In sisterhood. 
   
   
   I long for community here, and I feel at times quite alone. 
   
   
   I’m mournful of what has left me -
   the relationships now gone.
   
   
   Although in their leaving
   I certainly have become more appreciative of what stays. 
   I’ve learned to listen in different ways. 
   

   ---

3. 
   
   A role I was playing peels off of me 

   like a monkey suit

   I examine it’s pockets, it’s buttons - 

   It’s nooks and crannies - 

   
   I wonder- do I only resort 

   to poetry when my

   Heart is breaking?

   
   Sometimes it feels as if it 

   Breaks before I even 

   Truly know why.

   
   
   The wisdom of the Heart always 

   Sensing what is to come

   Before the rest of the 

   World catches up 

   
   The suit has many nooks +

   Crannies, it’s stitched together

   From found fibers and 

   Silken fabrics

   Spun by tiny hands

   
   
   It is rainbow colored

   When you put it on, in 

   The eye of the beholder

   You take the form + shape 

   Of a Dragon

   
   
   you extend your arms, 

   which instantly become wings

   + you take off- 

   
   
   Flying through the crackling 

   Ether, filled with overripe

   Stars as juicy as figs

   Ready to drop

   When a star drops to earth, 

   The little people come.

   They are the fruit of the cosmos.

   They gift back to us

   The fruit of our

   Wisdom tree.

   
   

   For all of creation

   Can be articulated inside

   The architecture of 

   A Tree

   
   
   This holy one, the tree of life, 

   Takes her form inside 

   our very biology

   
   
   It is here that holy

   bees dwell,

   Making honey. 

{to be continued….}

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digital collage by Sings with Trees

Dear Reader,

I’m here to introduce my latest group mentorship program, VESSELS of Earth + Star, in an essay about the process of Awakening the Oracular Body.

VESSELS of Earth + Star is for the woman who is birthing something masterful in her life,  whether it be an otherworldly partnership or a community-fusing vision.

Anchored In the Ancient Arts of crafting, weaving, storytelling and dreaming- our Mystery School sanctuary is for both the Priestess and the humble gardener within!

For those of you who prefer to receive this message through your beautiful elvin-ears, I invite you to listen to me read this essay + share some personal commentary below!

(A note: VESSELS of Earth + Star has been renamed and re-attuned, you’ll hear me using the former program name in the audio recording!)

As Oracles, Seers, bridges and those who hold a healing space for others, many of us walk through this world with various aspects of our identity flourishing into form around us.

We call upon them from moment to moment, in service or de-construction to the situation at hand. These aspects of deconstruction are evolutionary gateways to our aspects of service.  Through mending them, we find wholeness.

Our inner child, our wounded self and our pain bodies, when seen, heard, loved and tenderly mended- make way for our Higher Self aspects to return to embodiment. This may include many lifetimes of learning, remembering and mastery in the various Ancient Arts of the oracular and shamanic realms. 

The art of anchoring the Oracular body into a functional form involves the weaving of these disparate aspects of astral identity into the one Now moment, nestled into the nesting grounds of the Mother, which is her Source-aligned center, her effervescent and luminously alive core. 

(This we call- Re-Membering!

Or mending what has been dis-membered…)

Research has shown that places on the surface of the planet that hold high vortices of energy, are the exact size and shape of the earth’s core.

This is no accident, this is a mirror and also a direct avenue of vibrational evolution being reflected in the earth’s body. For her body, is an expression and extension of our bodies, and our bodies, an expression and extension of her alignment in the Greater cosmos. 

The earth is undergoing a vast and rapid transformation, and we are not only “along for the ride”…We have come here as cosmic doula’s who are being re-membered into wholeness, and prepared to assist her in her re-birthing. 

Over the past year, the most magnetic and resounding message I have received from my guides, the Kontomblé, has to do with the consciousness of the village coming into form again.

They have said that the consciousness of the village is not only an energy- but a functional organ of Mother Earth's body. They share that without this consciousness being held intact in us humans (mother earth’s children), it is much like a Mother having a malfunctioning liver, or perhaps more accurately missing her tongue, her skin, her arms which can reach out and hug and hold and feed the dreams she originally came here to birth and seed, spelling them into form through the voices of her children. 

A human without a village is like a honeybee without a hive.

The consciousness of the village, they say- is the most directly targeted energy emerging on the planet at this time. They share this not to provoke fear, but to incite awareness.

Awareness that when we are flourishing, and when we are fast approaching the revolution of her Cosmic dream coming into form- just as swiftly we may experience a breakdown. Whether it be a breakdown in community, in relationship, in work or vocation, or family… this is how the energy now functions. 

It is like the expansion and contractions of any natural birth process- as we come to know its primordial waves, we see- we are the sea! 

We become a part of the sea, holding the innate harmonies of the mother intact and in form, in unison with the grandmothers of the deep, the Ancient whales, who tend to Mother Earth’s memory through weaving their golden cosmic threads and migrational songlines into her plasmic body. 

Here, at the bottom of the ocean, our primordial selves dwell …
Where the rumblings of the ancient mothers call their daughters Home.

In VESSELS of Earth + Star,
we will dive into these humble healing waters together.

It is a space where we will
Foster Visions into Bee-ing -
For visions of the oracular nature
are deeply needed to nourish our communities at this time! 

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this message being shared by the Kontomblé!

Comment and share what this stirs in you below!

w. l o v e + d e v o t i o n,

Aislinn

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{renamed} VESSELS of Earth + Star is a 3 month group mentorship program devoted to awakening, aligning, and mending the Oracular Body.

It consists of:

• 6 Live Calls + Group Ceremonies

• 1 private mentoring session with me

• 1 Kontomblé divination pod

• Telegram group to connect + share

Applications currently open

Hello everyone and welcome to my First Substack post!

I choose to open this space in a sacred and playful way, by sharing a poem and a story. I’ve let the words flow from my tongue in an organic, oratorial manner by making an audio recording to share with you!

Lately, I’ve been dreaming up different ways to play, create with and share messages from the Otherworld, and so here is one of those expressions. 

Listen to hear about the Chahochina Oyate, and the song, or poem they channeled through me, at the Hidden Valley Sundance this summer. If you prefer to read, you will find a loose transcription of the first part of the recording, including the poem, below. 

In the audio, if you listen beyond the poem, starting at 11:40 to the end,  you will hear me share some stories about my personal experiences with the Little People at the Hidden Valley.

niobrara state park, NE

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[Audio:]

I'm going to share with you something very special that flowed through on a recent trip that I took to Nebraska with my beloved. Every summer we make an annual trip during Solstice time to Northern Nebraska to attend our Sundance, which is a very special ceremony in the Lakota tradition. 

Going to Sundance is always an epic journey for us and there's much I could say about it- but what I’ve planned to share with you today is a poem that I channeled when I was there about a week and a half ago.

Our Sundance is called “The Hidden Valley” and part of what makes it so special is that it’s well known in the area that this is the Sundance where the Little People live. 

In Lakota, they are known as the Chachochina, which translates to “the people who live in the trees”, or “boys in the woods”. They are also known as wiwila wichasa, or “the little people”.

One of my favorite things about Sundance is hearing the murmurations, whisperings and stories of the Little People crop up in the first few days of arriving, as everyone's getting settled. 

Usually, they first emerge from the children, who might say they saw one in dreamtime, or heard the little people playing with their tent the night prior.

One year, a Sundance leader fell asleep in his car and he heard them tapping on his window in the middle of the night. It was the little people messing with him, while at the same time giving a well deserved hello to their old friend! And, almost every year you hear stories of people who hear a little woman singing across the creek behind the sacred fire. 

Naturally, being a Kontomblé diviner, every year I look forward to bringing the village of Kontomblé  that I walk with to the Hidden Valley, where they can commune with the Chahochina!

While I’m there, I like to immerse myself in nature, be in meditation and a receiving state with them, where many messages come through. I’ve had countless beautiful experiences, some of which I will share with you here today. 

This year what happened was quite unusual-  when we arrived we heard that there was a beaver who had dammed up the creek that runs on the Western edge of the Sundance grounds.

To me, this creek has always been a physical realization of the invisible bridge that links the Sundance grounds to the Otherworld. It’s sort of like, once you cross it- you’re in the territory of the Little People. Everyone there knows that the Chahochina live on the other side of the creek. 

The arrival of the beaver and his two friends had damned up this Creek and made it so that it was a mucky, muddy, deep trench that was quite unappealing to cross or venture into! (Especially considering that one was camping and traveling, and with a limited supply of shoes and extra clothes.)

When I first saw this mucky trench, I sensed that it was a physical manifestation of some kind of block to connecting with them. In previous years, I had always crossed that creek and spent time over there with them making offerings, being in listening, always in a very respectful manner- and always in a way where consent was offered-but this year I didn't know if I wanted to brave it into that muddy mosquito laden trench! 

On the fourth or fifth day, I was standing on the edge of the little dip down into that trench, that was formerly the creek, and I was making offerings and saying a little prayer to the little people and the Sasquatch, who I had been feeling were wanting an acknowledgment.

(It’s also well known that the Bigfoot reside out there and roam around. Sometimes, they can be heard at night crashing through the woods and breaking branches.)

art by Jacques Le Breton (formerly bigfootwizard)

As I was making my offering, I felt the Kontomblé and the Chahochina come forward, and they showed me an image of my journal. They said, “your Journal your Journal! Go get your journal and write! Sit down and write!”  

This is an unusual request from them, but ever since I had an initiatory experience earlier this year, the channels have been opening in different ways, and information has been coming in different ways, and when I get a message I like to follow it!

I went back to my tent, sat down in my camping chair, opened up my journal and wrote whatever wanted to flow through. And what came through was this really sweet poem, or “song”, (which was how they worded it) this song from the Chahochina Oyate, which I'd like to share with you here!

Sit back, relax, close your eyes, find yourself comfortably seated and enjoy the journey that is this little song from the Chahochina at the Hidden Valley Sundance in Santee.

Chahochina Song 

Ribbons + pearls
Unfurl, unfurl 
Little kisses in the wind- 
Cottonwood coming 

Trees that bloom
Too soon, too soon 
Will be a boon 
For birthing ones…

Tend to your birth-
Unearth, unearth
The child within 
Kisses, in wind ♥ 

Playing in light
the dark and the night
the gentle timbre revealed 
in shade. 

The glades pour in, 
the ribbons in wind - 
Look in, with in, 
with in. 

With in your soul,
An empty bowl
Ready to fill with 
Wind + rain

Ready to gather
Other’s pain 
And make a 
Healing medicine.

The chahochina say
Come child, this way
We’ll show you a 
Gentler wind

The winds within 
Blow this way + that-
They blow off your
Hat, and it flies!

What flies does not lie
What lies, may sink, 
So do not listen 
To all that THINK

To think is to sink 
To sway is to pray 
One foot, then another- 
the Sundance way 

We walk to the center, 
And never to the side, 
Our feet have wings, 
They march, they glide

We dance in a spiral 
Honoring wind, water + rain 
We dance in a spiral-
Weaving pain 

Sufferings sits in our bellies + 
Chests, suffering pits us 
Against all bets- 

We offer up all our suffering 
+ up all our tears- 
To be shown a way 
Just a bit more
Clear

Clear water runs
Inside our blood
When we release 
The ancestral flood

The ghosts of our 
grandparents turn into 
Rain

As we dance we dance 
Away their pain 

They turn into water
They turn into dust
They fall upon earth
Because they must

They feed the roots
Of the Cottonwood
Trees-

The beavers clear out 
Ancestral dis-ease

When the beavers come 
It is a message from 
Wind + rain 

That the build up of pain 
Has become too strong

And so we call in the 
Wielders of rain 
And so we call in the 
Doctors of the plains

The water is dammed but
Still we sing
Our hearts never stop
Hummmmmming!

Our songs never stop
Drummmmming! 

Our ways never stop 
Bleeding 
Beating 
Feeding 

Mother’s rain 
Soil, 
Toil + spoil 

Mother’s heart, 
Art
Dart + part

Part the darts, piece them 
In halves 
Like apples + crackers
And have many laughs 
As you craft tiny maps  

The wounds are a 
Map to the 
Oncoming rain 

The wounds trace the way
To the floodgates gain 

Open, child, open! Open + Sing!
We are the chahochina, 
And love, we bring! 

- Channeled from the Chahochina, at theHidden Valley Sundance on June 22, 2023 

To hear more of my personal experiences with the Chahochina, listen to the audio above!

w. love + devotion,

Aislinn

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