the shining ones
our bright and flowering origins
Hello dear hearts — Here is a small sparkling stone, a tiny moonlit stream of heart, which was given to me over the crest of the great arc of summer solstice. I have been watching the sun bathe the land in light, and hoping we all might allow ourselves the same glory. Thank you so much for being here, to generously hold out your palm and receive what I share. With love across this shining mystery, and all the tenderness yet to come.
the little space within the heart
is as great as the vast universe.
the heavens and the Earth are there,
and the sun and the moon and the stars.
fire and lightning and winds are there,
and all that is now,
and all that is not.
— the upanishads
[ the wild snapdragons ]
One evening last week as the waxing moon rose, I set out on foot to make my annual June pilgrimage to visit the most unfathomable flowering of the native wild snapdragons. It is a hidden spot, miles from my house and far away from any roads, and I cannot believe it exists. I can’t believe they exist. What kind of heaven would create such beauty?
I sat with the aromatic rising towers of shimmering pink fairy bubbles, gazing into their brilliant faces. Inhaling their intoxicating scent of something like strawberry candy handcrafted by pixies. And I was surrounded by the most ardent, devoted lovers of the wild snapdragons, the bumblebees and the hummingbird moths. Everything was warm, buzzing, humming, chanting yes, alive and vibrant, and as I sat there surrounded by effervescent perfumed blooms, I imagined myself a fellow pollinator. My pilgrimage on foot to visit these flowers was no different than the visitations of the bumblebees. I, too, had travelled there to receive the heavenly nectar of a most magnificent flower. I sat happily among my winged kin, my fellow pilgrims.
Then a hummingbird moth flew right up to my face, and softly touched the tip of my nose, tasting me with her long, spiraled proboscis— as though she fully expected to find nectar within me. Suddenly, in that timeless flash of a moment, I saw myself as indistinguishable from a flower. And not just any flower - the most fragrant, royal miracle of a wildflower.
In that moment, I was both the pollinator and the pollinated. I was the nectar, and the sipper of nectar. The infinity dance between the hummingbird moth and the wildflowers had invited me into a radiant, multilayered world in which we are all things at once. A continuance of poetic expression surrounded me and, in equal measure, emanated from me. A single chime in a vast sea of creative potentiality.
we are pain
and what cures pain, both.
we are the sweet cold water
and the jar that pours.
(Rumi)
I wandered home through the forest in a trance, feeling altered and enchanted. I felt my own multiplicities, dissolving into oneness while also understanding the precious individuality of my own soul. Everything around me was threaded with love, and I was the golden needle. I felt a longing to sing.
How could all of this been stirred within me, just from a simple moment of sitting with the flowers? The answer was both elusive and clear. I was in the presence of the most pervading, life-giving force there is, the indwelling spark in every human heart, stone, flower, bird and mountain. Because I had offered a moment of my own loving presence to the flowers, in exchange I was given a profound gift: I had been touched by the devas.
[ the shining ones ]
Just tune into nature until you feel the love flow. That is your arrow into the deva world. It does not matter if there is a message or not, it is the state which counts. Always it is your state that nature responds to, not what you say, not what you do,
but what you are.—The Devas, as spoken to Dorothy Maclean at the Findhorn Foundation
Deva is a Sanskrit word meaning shining one, and radiant, divine, celestial, heavenly presence or being of light. The pantheons of Hindu (and some Buddhist) deities are referred to as devas- the archetypal, mythical and highly intricate embodiments of the gods and goddesses. They are all considered emanations of one universal divine spark responsible for creating our world. References to the devas dates back to at least 1500 BCE in the collections of sacred Sanskrit scriptures and hymns known as the Vedas.
More recently, in the late 1800’s, members of the Theosophical society in Britain adopted this word, when they realized it explained the divine, conscious forces in the elemental nature spirits they revered. Their Celtic and Druidic ancestry was rooted in honoring the ancient stone people, the sacred holy wells, tree spirits, fairies, gnomes, selkies, dragons and leprechauns. All of these words simply acknowledge the consciousness, the presence, and the mystery in nature and all things.
The original founders of the Findhorn Foundation in Scotland were some of the first accounts of humans gardening in direct conversation with the devas. They started by attempting to grow vegetables on barren ground that was nearly pure sand, and it was such an impossible feat that they soon began asking the land itself for guidance. They consulted with the plant devas and elemental spirits before doing anything to the land, from pruning a bush to digging a new bed. Everything they did was in partnership with the land as a community of conscious forces. As a result, both the garden and the humans thrived in miraculous ways. It was a living experiment in co-creative stewardship between human and Gaian consciousness, and their garden was a wild success.
And so the Sanskrit word grew into somewhat of an occult “new age” term, used to explain this shimmering and conscious beneficent force — of divine intelligence and soul — present in every single aspect of life. Yes, including us.
The devas, who at first seemed to be far-off beings, through a joyous communion grew into close companions, until eventually they made me realize that they, like heaven, are within.
— Dorothy Maclean, Findhorn Foundation
The devas as nature spirits make up the collective of elemental beings, landscape angels, terrestrial keepers, the protective “landlords” of our planet, the wildly creative etheric architects of our Earth. Often called the hidden folk or the little people, they are the luminous forces responsible for creating, preserving, and animating this multilayered rainbow of worlds that are all around us, as well as within us.
Even though the devas create and oversee the structure of our world, they themselves are not bound by matter, rather they the energy, the spirit, the dream that moves through each thing and ties us all together. They are creative consciousness itself, protecting the sanctity and beauty of our world with unstoppable love.
And they are our own force of unstoppable love — the most creative force on Earth.
[ an allurement to light ]
Why was I able to have such a profound mystical experience just from sitting with a flower? It is the same reason that I love the plants so much: the devic forces are particularly easy to witness in photosynthetic beings. Plants are literally made of cosmic light, and are tended by the elemental forces in very visible ways. The shining, radiant original force emanates profusely from the green and flowering ones, reflecting it right back at us. Placing literal seeds of cosmic creativity into the palms of our hands.
Plants collect the secrets of the universe and sink them into the Earth.
(Rudolf Steiner)
Some plants are even heliotropic, a word meaning “sun turn”, where a plant’s reproductive parts (the flower) will literally move to track the sun across the sky throughout the day. It is a mystical experience to witness a plant’s devotion to its source through this visible movement. Our most famous heliotrope is of course the great sunflower.
While not all plants are heliotropic, almost all of them are phototropic, meaning they orient their growth toward the source of light. Their connection with our holy star is so innate that they will literally turn, twist and stretch their bodies to find the sun. Isn’t this the same longing we are all born with? To return to that tiny, inner spark of light in the deepest core of our hearts. This is the devic gate, where all wisdom and inspiration flows through us, like a river of colored lights.
We are more plantlike than we think. Studies have found that the human retina has phototropic mechanisms — meaning, just like the plants, we biologically orient toward that which shines. I think this instinct goes far beyond the retina, and that there is something in our bones that, like a moth, is drawn to light. It brings to mind an image of ancestors gathered around one fire together, surrounded by the darkness of a world not yet lit by modern electricity. To gather around the fire was to collectively orient, from a cellular longing, toward the mysterious source of our own existence.
Our allurement to light is actually an inner aching for re-enchantment with the mystery we sense beyond our human form. To remove the veil of separation between us and the miraculous beauty of the land, to illuminate the unseen web connecting us to every single thing. To become plantlike, able to radiate the shining dream of the Earth just through our way of being here.
before dawn, an angel
(a mosquito)
flew straight into the flame
of my candle, and died there.in returning to heaven,
she extinguished the flame,
and the room went dark
with her death.then a strange scent rose
which smelled just like
my own hair burning.but it was her wings.
which god was it anyway
who decided to make us all
out of this same exact
spirit matter,and then invited us to appear
in an endless myriad of forms,
to puzzle us
into thinking
we are any different
from each other.(“allurement to light”)
[ to protect the beauty we love ]
Where can we experience this luminary presence of the devas? How can we connect with the nature spirits and the elemental beings, on a planet that is so ripe with devastation and human suffering? Because the earth keepers abide by the foundational principle that their relationship to humans is interdependent, in order for us to “meet” them, we must first work to restore and revive our own interspecies relations.
Indigenous peoples of Earth had, and have, very clear practices for tending their relationships with the land spirits. Every single human on Earth comes from a lineage of people who made offerings and enacted rituals to honor the devas, as a mandatory exchange for the gift of life. Much of human activity causes disturbances to the same landscapes that the devas work so tirelessly to protect. Even the simple turning over of a stone can uproot an entire world that had been tended by the soil beings for centuries.
Our ancestors (and many indigenous people still today) understood the importance of continually renewing our vows to the land spirits. This is a relationship that must, must, be tended with care and respect. This is ultimately for our own benefit, as our awe and gratitude are the doorways into our own creative heart and ecological belonging.
To interact with Gaia as a conscious holy being, to make offerings to the mountains, sing songs to the river, write poetry, make art — especially in times of collective sorrow or suffering— is to engage in acts of ecological restorative justice. By acknowledging any harm our species may have done, by refusing to look the other way, by showing up with a reverent heart and asking how we might work together better, this is to ensure a flourishing future for humans as fellow caretakers of this planet.
Our relationship with the devas must begin with the re-enchantment of ourselves. So much of the ecological harm caused by humans has come from the denial and neglect of our imaginative hearts. The truth is that the land spirits tend our world in a state of wild creativity, and they are longing for us to join them in co-creative dreaming. The reconciliation, the great restoration we can offer Earth is to allow ourselves to use our imaginations in order to create something— anything. It is not about making a perfect offering, or striving to receive validation from other humans for it. True creativity is entirely about self-liberation and experimentation, and really has very little to do with making something to look at or to show others. It is in the actual experience of creating that our heart can finally speak, and from that place might receive a mysterious reply.
It is in the singing of a simple song that comes to you out of nowhere. Walking just a little bit more fluidly, more freely in a way that feels like you. Making a colorful salad made from locally grown vegetables, for the pure joy of it. In fact our food is one of the most ancient palettes for creative exploration and accessing gratitude. Creativity feels good. The devas are benevolent, generative forces, carrying out their work with supreme joy and care. What can you offer back to them with this very same spirit, which is also your true essence?
What if the most creative thing we can offer isn’t a “thing” at all? As my teacher Kat Harrison said once in a plant spirit class, “sometimes the greatest gift you can give a plant is a moment of your presence.” Your most divine offering is to generate a presence of care for this world. To grant agency to that which appears inanimate. To move through your day with the awareness that you are both the seer and the deeply seen. This is what I would call co-creative presence, wherein we cultivate a state of being that makes space for the miraculous. Space for the wind to whisper love spells into your ear, for birdsong to become hymns for transformation. The best part about this kind of presence is that it requires very little effort. Isn’t it true that the most beautiful poetry, the greatest revelations and inspirations are born from sitting still and doing absolutely nothing? Simply let the world do its holy work on your senses. A perfect summer assignment.
When we tend a place with our creative presence, over time, we help the land give birth to new depths of consciousness. Brand new landscape devas are born. This is why it matters to be devoted to one place, to return often to sit, sing or make offerings, to tend the relationship like you would a best friend or a great love. We are the dream of Gaia, dreaming Gaia awake. We protect this world by loving it.
The intention of the devas in introducing us to their way of seeing was not to detract from the beauty of the world as seen by human eyes, but to enhance it by expanding our awareness into a broader and truer perception.
(Dorothy Maclean)
In closing, in reverence for the origin of the Sanskrit word deva, I want to share my profound love and honoring of the Hindu deity, Sarasvati devi. A brilliant shining heart, she is the goddess of creativity, poetry, wisdom and music, of flowing rivers, of the clouds that swirl and turn to nourishing rain which brings all creative flourishing. Sarasvati is the deity of learning, of the longing of the soul for new and broader illuminations, of beautiful, true speech and creative flow. I call on her often, and see her presence everywhere in the great flowering song of summer.
let your creative heart
flow into this world.
love like fireflies,
like summer starlight,
like morning sun on rainbow dew,
kate
Dearest Kate, I devoured this writing the moment it appeared in my inbox! My day will look a lot different than expected thanks to you… rescheduling my morning so that I can go sit outside. You are a beautiful gift to us!
Oh my dear coyote, your beautiful word, your dedication, deep love and reverence for the natural world enliven me, move me, inspire me and moved me to tears. Thank you for sharing your vision, thank you for plucking the string of the guitar in my heart, so I may join you in these songs of love of life <3