Toko-pa

Beautiful Things

Toko-pa — Wed, 17 Apr 2013 19:17:36 +0000

1. There’s a moving scene in “How to Cook Your Life” where Zen teacher & chef Edward Espe Brown speaks about sincerity. He says “Sincerity is the quality where you let your imperfections show.” Indeed, when we look at the origin of the word; ‘sin’ means without and ‘cere’ means wax. So even though we may be banged up and blemished by life, we allow ourselves to be seen without polish.

Sincere Teapots, by Toko-pa Turner

2. The effusive perfume of wild hyacinths.

3. The sound of Craig‘s flute winding up the stairs into the good rafters of our house, like a memory of truth.

4. A man running after his hat in a storm.

5. The passion of Sufi music, with its quickening tablas and seductively climbing oud.

6. A magical little cafe & gallery called Kizmet, tucked away in the deep south end of our island, which took my breath away for its lived-in beauty; the kind of beauty that can only come from living slowly into relationship with something.

Kizmet Cafe, by Toko-pa Turner

7. A beautiful passage in David Whyte’s The Three Marriages where he speaks of the welcoming face. He describes how, through the discipline of kindness, a face becomes welcoming, then bringing “things running toward him, especially the part of the world that might be shy and innocent; might be reluctant to trust itself to the world.”

8. Showing up with tenderness for the expanding and contracting ways of the heart. Instead of armouring against the unknown, allowing our vulnerability to encounter the edges of life. This is what David Whyte calls “the good kind of peril.”

9. My friend Catherine speaks of the flurry of insights that come like snowflakes by the thousands, which melt on her mittens when she tries to capture them.

10. How a friendship can make us rich! With its gifts of tenderness, generosity of presence, new forms and languages to elevate our experiences, the extra muscle for to carry our important pieces.

New Moon in Aries

Toko-pa — Wed, 10 Apr 2013 17:13:26 +0000

Happy New Moon intrepid dreamers!

I have a dear friend who calls this the ‘horns of the bull’ moon, which I find so apt considering the fiery, active energy that comes available to us at this time. For many of us, these long winter months have been about doing the hard, internal work of shedding old habits and patterns, sealing up our energy leaks, and tuning in to the deeper sense of direction that only arises from ashes. And now, we are ready to grab on and go!

As well as a couple of announcements below, you’ll find some beautiful art, poetry and wisdom to touch your brave heart in my April Newsletter.

In my biggest news, a gorgeous group of women will be making the great journey to the UK this August to come together in Dreaming Council for a retreat I am offering called Embodying the Dream. There are a handful of spots left if you’d like to join this magical circle!

And by popular demand, I’m happy to announce new dates for Dreamwalking: A 4-week online Course on Dreaming. It tends to fill up quickly so be sure to register early if the timing feels right for you.

Lots of love,
Toko-pa

Embodiment

Toko-pa — Wed, 03 Apr 2013 15:16:15 +0000

This is the true meaning of Embodiment: To show up with wholehearted presence for this moving encounter with life. Instead of clambering towards ever-furthering horizons or withdrawing into distractions and addictions, showing up for those absences in our lives. Welcoming our fears and discomforts as necessary conditions to creativity. Loving the gestation as much as the harvest, even while remembering the barren season that must follow.

Night Raptures

Toko-pa — Sat, 16 Feb 2013 16:54:04 +0000

Millions of people around the world report awakening around 3 a.m. for no reason. For many, it is a frustrating interruption in an otherwise restful sleep. But what if you could learn to release resistance to these mysterious awakenings? What if the night has secrets to whisper to you? What if that is the magic hour in which to move “back and forth across the doorsill where the two worlds touch,” as Rumi writes.

Indeed, my most powerful teachings have come through at that time, many of which I might have missed had I kept sleeping.

I call them Night Raptures. Sometimes difficult to explain, these experiences are like catching glimpses into the perfection of everything.
For those brief moments when the ego is retired from guard, we are given sudden access to the allness – a pure and sensual passion for everything just as it is. Like a giant parade, organized in its chaos, in which every last one of us is celebrating this gift of being alive. Don’t go back to sleep!”

All This and More

Toko-pa — Mon, 04 Feb 2013 00:02:15 +0000

I want to be guided by older-ups. I want babies to be born where old people die. I want to be sandwiched in the middle of a messy togetherness. I want to be warned before I do something stupid. I want to be forgiven when I do it anyway. I want wisdoms to be tapped out on my eardrums and not Googled. I want transitions to be recognized by fire. I want gifts to be educed from children. And teenagers and adults and I want to mean something to my community. I want to get drunk on substance morning and night. I want to hear your dreams. I want to raise a revolution for gentleness. I want to call out the bullshit on consensus reality. I want to get rich so I can billboard the highways with validations.

I don’t want to be another faker. I don’t want to show you my good side and hide my humanity. I don’t want to dole you out my Self in digestible status-chunks. I want to challenge you in long, drawn-out rituals and still find you interested. I want to feed you seventeen course meals made with spices I crushed. I want to recite you circular poems, each beginning cutting a deeper grasp. I want to make you feel something, even if it’s awkward. I want to sing you songs which are ancient and new. I want to carve stories in trees with tools my elders fashioned. I want to keep sharpening them. I want to find places we’ve never been. And then, I want to return there, but backwards.

I want to shuffle up words so we don’t sleep through them. I want to learn things and then be splashed into never forgetting. I want to make you feel seen. I want to hold your pounding heart in my gentlest of hands. I want to make your thing feel like my thing. I don’t want to miss a moment. I want to dig at the bottom and find it false. I want to turn up unknown depths. I want to stand in this hurricane and sing the sweetest, most naked song you can bear. I want to be alive with you.

Beautiful Things: Baskets

Toko-pa — Mon, 21 Jan 2013 16:29:49 +0000

For those who have been following my slow initiation into the World of Handmaking, you know that I’ve had a long yearning to make baskets! Last summer, I even tried teaching myself using wild grasses from my garden (and the internet).

This past weekend I had the enormous fortune to study basketmaking with a master. Like many geniuses who hide away in the forest, Joan Carrigan lives on our timid little island and is one of the world’s greatest (and sweetest) teachers of this ancient artform.

This two-day workshop took place at Jane Stafford Textiles, a gem of a venue, founded mostly for weavers. The walls are lined with elegant looms under a rainbow spectrum of threading spools. Jane’s hospitality was above and beyond anything I expected, warming our weekend with sweetness and luxury.

Remembering

The moment the reeds were in my hands, I felt a deep familiarity. Of course there was a learning curve as I tried to discipline the reeds, but for the most part I felt I’d done this with my womenfolk for lifetimes. The only thing missing was our weaving songs.

Joan’s teaching style was so clear with experience that I felt guided at every proverbial and literal turn.

Once I learned the 3-rod-whale weave, I was unstoppable – my fingers flew and my mind went silent. By the end of our first day together I had something that very nearly resembled a basket being born.

Nature’s Bounty

The next day, Joan introduced us to her wild collection of natural materials. Other than the reeds, which are native to Asia, Joan harvests all her own materials, plucking wild rush from the lake in her canoe, making alliances with tree fallers for sustainable cedar bark, and twining seagrass by hand.

Here you can see I’ve created a band of twined seagrass and two rows of red cedar bark.

Next I attempted a technique called French Randing, which is a diagonal weave using short, flat reed pieces.

Before I knew it, I had made a beautiful basket which I’ll cherish forever.

Heart and Hands

It’s amazing how mysterious handmaking seems until we put our intention to it and realise that these ancient technologies live in our bodies and, with some gentle guidance, our heart and our hands can be coaxed back into remembering their symbiosis.

I am so deeply grateful for Joan’s teaching, which has returned this language to my fingers. I’ll never look at my autumn garden the same again!