Disconnected

I had a good very slow walk. Somehow I felt lonely and disconnected. The forest was all damp from yesterday’s rain. Full of tears like myself. I sat down at the stream and listened to the song of the water.

I felt like the autumn leaf. It lays fallen, waiting to return to the source and to turn into nourishment.

The sun came out and made me warm. On my way down I met my friend the ironwood tree and asked for reconnection and guidance.

A few meters further a dog ran up passed me, panting heavily. It was lost and running the path up and down, with panicky eyes looking for its master. I knelt down, tried to catch it to bring it to the SPCA. It did not trust me enough. Memories from survival training I once did come to my mind. The golden rule is “Don’t panic” rather sit down, calm down and assess the situation. Look around and discover the options given to you.

I said thank you to the tree for the message, sat down and listened to the forest.

After a while a woman passed me with an exhausted but happy dog. 

Reconnected.

Weaving

Last week I had a body-de-armoring session.  

I am still processing this amazing experience and Friday and Saturday I did draw a mandala.

When it was finished I saw some elements of a Celtic infinite knot pattern in it.

Saturday morning was cold and mixed weather, sometimes sun, sometimes rain. On my long and slow walk it was exactly as I felt inside, full of tears and full of laughter at the same time. Crisp, fresh and new.

I am a weaver and I am a trained textile technician. In my limited tantric understanding (if one can understand tantra at all) I am the thread and the weaver. I am allowed to constantly weave my life force into the most amazing ever changing fabric.

I saw the forest weaving its own web.

 The roots are weaving amazing infinite knotted patterns.

Roots

For the first time I walked with a friend yesterday. On the woodcutters path we stopped for a moment and I showed her the roots of the trees exposed by the erosion of the little stream.

Roots holding the tree in place even in the torrential winter rains, we can have in the Cape.

Rocks are grown in and embedded in the wood of the root.

The tree is steadfast, does not move, no matter what comes down the stream. The roots hold it securely in the rocky earth.

I ask myself, where are my roots? They are not tangible as the root of the tree. They are in me. What are my rocks, which are grown in my roots, holding me down?  What is it, that is so hard and grown in, maybe also giving me something to hold on?

As a human being I have the ability to move, even, to move my roots. I have the choice to hold on or to let go.

It takes courage to let go and grow new roots. The new roots give new nourishment to let me flourish and grow.

Sensing the Light

Sunday morning was so beautiful, full of light from the morning sun.

Sensing the world in a new light. The universe celebrates its creation.

It shines a spotlight even on a simple stone.

Illuminates a bush of dry twigs.

Lights up the path forward.

A festival for my senses. I am so so full of joy and as John O’Donohue calls it, I feel the mystery of my presence and the Eros of the Earth.

Blessing for the Senses

May your body be blessed.
May you realize that your body is a faithful
and beautiful friend of your soul.
And may you be peaceful and joyful
and recognize that your senses
are sacred thresholds.
May you realize that holiness is
mindful, gazing, feeling, hearing, and touching.
May your senses gather you and bring you home.
May your senses always enable you to
celebrate the universe and the mystery
and possibilities in your presence here.
May the Eros of the Earth bless you.

- John O’Donohue in Anam Cara