• Diane Hope • photo at Sunburst 11/14 • There’s something deeply humbling about the feeling of mud between your toes. It’s soft yet firm, cool yet alive — a reminder that no matter how far we drift into the speed and noise of modern life, the earth is always there beneath us, waiting for our return. Grounding isn’t about stability as much as it is about relationship — a remembering of where we come from, what we’re made of, and how deeply we are held by something larger than ourselves.
We spend much of our lives hovering — in thought, in worry, in what’s next. But the moment our feet meet the ground, something shifts. The stories quiet. The breath deepens. The heart softens. Mud doesn’t care who you are or what you’ve done; it simply receives you. There’s no separation between the soil that nourishes a tree and the soil that welcomes your feet. It’s the same living matter that holds the seeds of growth, decay, and renewal — the full rhythm of existence.
When we allow ourselves to truly feel the ground — not as a surface we walk on, but as a living being we’re in relationship with — something ancient awakens. We begin to sense that grounding isn’t just a human need; it’s a universal language. Every creature, every root, every raindrop is part of the same pulse, the same quiet heartbeat of the earth.
And in that remembrance comes tenderness. The kind that doesn’t need to fix or strive, but simply to be. When we reconnect with the ground, empathy naturally follows — not as an idea, but as an embodied truth. We remember that what supports us also supports everything else. That the same mud we stand in holds the worms that aerate the soil, the water that nourishes crops, the minerals that become food. Our belonging isn’t personal — it’s shared.
So this November, as the light fades and the air turns inward, take a moment to pause and feel the weight of your own feet. Imagine the roots beneath them, the layers of life below the surface — ancient, unseen, but always present. Let the mud remind you that you don’t have to reach for belonging. You’ve been home all along.
• by Dawn King • It’s interesting that we are in a season of change in which every culture finds its way forward through its own celebrations. The new Moon in Libra of October (this year on the 20th or 21st, depending on location) brings renewed efforts across the planet for sane leadership.
This is much like the culture of celebrating Diwali (or Dipavali) an annual Festival of Light observed by Hindus,Buddhists, Sikhs and Jains. Small clay pots filled with oil will hold lighted cotton string wicks, their flames signifying the ultimate victory of virtue in each soul.
The origin of this festival was in gratitude for the ultimate victory of light over darkness, of wisdom over ignorance. It is often associated with an ancient tale of a virtuous leader who overcomes a cruel despot.
This new Moon also celebrates the birthday of Lord Dhanvantari, who brought Ayurvedic healing to Earth. So, this makes it a perfect time to begin new health rituals and remedies. Let us personally be grateful for our blessings, and make choices which celebrate and enliven the Divine Light, bringing heaven to earth.
Calm me, O Lord,
as you stilled the storm.
Still me, O Lord,
keep me from harm.
Let all tumult within me cease.
Enfold me, Lord,
in your peace.
–Songs of the Gaels
• by Dawn King • If you’re feeling that a lot of uncertainty currently exists in our world, you have company! Let’s explore why we might be feeling this way.
The same day as our northern hemisphere celebrated Fall Equinox (September 22), there was a partial solar eclipse over the Southern Hemisphere, casting its shadow on New Zealand and Antarctica. Eclipses have always gotten our attention and been a cause of awe and introspection. An eclipse occurs with an alignment of the Sun and Moon during which their gravitational forces work together; this causes extreme tidal movements on Earth. Since our physical bodies are largely liquid, we can also experience these tidal effects.
A body with mass has a gravitational field; the interaction of the solar wind with any mass generates an electrical field around that mass. Because all planets, comets, asteroids, etc. have gravitational and electrical fields, they effect Earth. So, phenomena in the sky have effects on Earth, and can be seen as a mirror of what we experience here.
How interesting that at this same time of the equinox and eclipse, Neptune, the gigantic planet associated with watery dissolution, was the closest to Earth that it ever gets. Neptune is about 57 times the size of Earth in volume, and 17 times in mass. It spins completely around every 16 hours, and has supersonic winds. The fluidity of spiritual reality is represented by Neptune. From our perspective on Earth, this distant planet takes 165 years to make a complete circuit around the Sun. Neptune is also associated with illusions, dreams, confusion, doubt and suspicion.
Another large, slow moving planet, Saturn, takes 29.5 earth-years to go completely around the Sun. if Earth was the size of a nickel, Saturn would be about the size of a volleyball. In astrology, Saturn is the Law and Order planet, symbolizing material stability and “reality,” associations that are opposite to those of Neptune.
When Saturn and Neptune were last conjunct (in1989) the world saw numerous societal shifts; the Berlin wall came down (because of miscommunication); China’s Tiananmen Square massacre took place; California experienced the Loma Prieta earthquake, and Alaska suffered the Exxon Valdez oil spill. Earlier conjunctions of Saturn and Neptune saw the fall of the Soviet Union, the end of World War I, and the start of the United States, to name a few events.
Every 35 years or so, Saturn and Neptune occupy the same part of the sky, as seen from Earth. This unusual combination (conjunction) began most recently in early July, and will continue off and on until May of 2026, a period in which it can seem that long-range planning is difficult. On a human level, we each may be challenged to re-evaluate what we hold as important in our life.
At this time, how can we gain a greater feeling of stability and order in our lives while making spiritual progress? Speaking for myself, connecting with Divine Spirit through prayer, intention, reflection and meditation is my rock, a Saturnian stability. But, it is also my source of inspired dreams and ideals, things associated with Neptune. Our balancing act is to live in the middle place, between extremes of energies, emotions, and mental constructs—in this world but not of it. Sitting quietly each morning and evening to be grateful and to “check in” can guide us with a greater wisdom, one that is in harmony with all life, all of creation—a true revelation of soul.
We are called to a new mind on the matter of what makes us tick and how we are intended to fit into God’s universe as he created it. – D. C. Collier
• John Kiddie • Sunburst’s founder Norm Paulsen loved the sea and wooden sailing ships of all sizes. In August 1991, a crew from Sunburst was restoring a schooner called Star Pilot in Gloucester, Massachusetts. Norm and I were in California at the time. Hurricane Bob was reportedly coming up the East Coast, and it had a projected path right through New England.
Norm was watching the Weather Channel and, as the storm approached, the trajectory remained true for landing very close to our ship. He was extremely concerned about the ship and our crew, exclaiming, “It’s going right over the top. It’s going to hit us!”
One of the crew members, Ross, later recalled the storm raging all around with 110-mph winds. It rained and poured, with the wind whipping everything in sight. Then the eye of the hurricane passed directly over the harbor.
Suddenly everything was calm and still, and the sun was shining brightly, right overhead. Ross went onto the deck; he could feel the warmth of the sun. He was in awe of the spectacle unfolding before him. Looking around, he could see the wall of the eye of the hurricane extending way up into the sky, with a gray turbulent mass all around it. But in the center, the eye, the brilliant sun shone.
That didn’t last long; soon the other side of the hurricane hit with full fury again. It was an amazing baptism for the rebirth of that ship. The vortex was directly overhead.
One night, Norm was taken up in Spirit and shown a vision. As he looked down from high above, all he could see was ocean. Then, his vision descended and he saw a wooden ship sailing. He seemed to come closer still and could see it was himself, Norm, steering the ship.
It wasn’t an ordinary ocean. It was two hemispheres, two halves of a stormy boiling and rolling sea, on either side of the ship. Norm was sailing a course right through the middle—in the calm place “on the razor’s edge,” as he recalled. From that center place, he was steering the ship of his soul through the tumultuous seas of life that lie on either side. He was in the middle, bringing his ship steadily through.
As it was for Norm, so can it be for you. Residing at the observer’s seat within, you can guide the ship of your soul through the ocean of life. By coming to that place of stillness within, you begin to see more clearly the course you need to steer.
How do you arrive at this point of stillness? How can you quiet the seemingly constant bombardment of your mind and senses? Meditation is a proven method for experiencing the peace that passes all understanding. It will bring you to the helm of your ship of life, the true Self within you.
By regular focused effort, you come into harmony with the divine energy that is inside you. Being in this centered place doesn’t give you a free pass through life’s challenges. The rough seas and storms that come your way will still arise; but with the steady hand of your true Self on the wheel, your vessel will be guided to calm waters once again.
Let the wave of memory, the storm of desire, the fire of emotion pass through without affecting your equanimity. – Sathya Sai Baba
• by Dawn King • Sunburst, and the world, are starting anew with the Fall Equinox. It is a beautiful opportunity to realign ourselves with our authentic Self, Life, Spirit, Joy. At Sunburst, we celebrated the Dance of Venus with a Sacred Geometry workshop led by Craig Hanson (photo below). We stepped along the beautiful pattern this planet creates as it revolves around Earth and Sun over an 8 year period.
We at Sunburst also enjoyed a transformative labyrinth walk on the morning of the Equinox (9/22, photo at start). This beautiful observance is restorative and life-affirming, as we join in the ongoing cycle of nature. Craig shared with me the story of an autistic boy who spoke his first words after wandering the many turns of the labyrinth. We know it has a psychophyiological effect—mind and body interact. I felt personally renewed and inspired with creative ideas.
Many cultures around the world celebrate this time of year. In the Northern hemisphere we have harvest festivals such as Poland’s Dozynki. Ancient Welsh Druids called this time of balance between night and day “The Light of the Water,” water being symbolic of life, a depth of emotional stillness and contemplation, both of which we can enjoy in winter. In Jewish lore, this is when Adam and Eve were created; it’s also the time when Jews repent and atone for past errors—to be renewed in a new civil year.
To me it is interesting that the Southern Hemisphere celebrates the start of Spring at the same time we see the beginning of Fall. Likewise, the Sun enters Libra at this time of year while the full Moon shines from Aries (opposite of Libra). And so the duality of our plane of existence is observed in every direction this month, as it is in each month that passes.
• Sunburst blog Editor is on vacation; enjoy this 2011 article by Amanda •
One of the ways I show my love for Sunburst is to mow the rose garden lawn at the Lodge every week. To be honest, it’s not a burden at all. I love doing it.
I used to have a big lawn out in South Suburbia on a third of an acre, and l really enjoyed keeping the grass manicured, soft, and pretty. So when Jim and I came to Sunburst last summer, I saw that cute little square of lawn surrounded by Norm’s roses and I thought, “That’s mine!” I let Heiko and everybody know I wanted to be in charge of that.
I bought one of those old-fashioned push mowers with the spiral blades that rotate around a central axle. They’re so out of style now that people stop me and say, “Hey, I had one of those when I was a kid! Where’d you get that?” (Less than a hundred bucks at Home Depot, by the way.) I’ve even had guests and friends walk by and ask if they can try it out.
The question I get asked most often is, “How come you don’t use a power mower?” Well, at the ranch we have an industrial gas-powered mower that’s about two feet square, runs at roughly 85-90 decibels, and requires its operator to don several different types of safety gear. (OK, I’m including long pants in there—to me, that’s “safety gear,” especially when it’s hot!) We really need it here, with all the brush and ranch land that has to be maintained. I’ve seen The Guys running it out in the fields, and it does a beautiful job. And yes, it would mow the rose garden lawn in about 25 seconds flat.
But if I used it, would I have seen the delicate red dragonfly perched on the tip of a rose leaf who came and watched me work last week? I saw the same one, maybe, with a mate as I mowed this evening! Would I have noticed the huge, swooping brown bat looking for his hidey-hole in the Lodge rafters? What about all the Pacific tree frogs, blue-bellied lizards, and snakes that hop and slide away from my push mower as I slowly cut another stripe?
If I used the power mower, would I get to keep my arms and legs strong, breathe in the fresh, green scent of cut grass, sweat a little, stop and talk to friends, take a break to scoop critters out of the way, or pause to watch the shadow of the Lodge roof advance across the lawn in the late-afternoon sunshine? Would my son Cisco get to see how fast he can make a new swath in the thick, green growth and test his increasing strength?
So while I appreciate and admire the power of the big gas mower, I also see the beauty and value in a slower, gentler way. It may take more time, but I’d never want to miss the gifts I receive every week when I mow the Lodge lawn. (Don’t get me started about the gophers, though—that’s a topic for another time to be posted under “Perseverance.”)
Next time you come to visit, take a moment to sit on the lawn or stand and look around for a few minutes at all the life that surrounds you. If you’re quiet enough, my new red dragonfly friend might stop by to check you out!
