Cackling Witches

The fog rising from the ocean this morning was so dense allowing no glimpses of the water below. It was beautiful in its white softness. Feeling the surprisingly warm moss beneath my bare feet I was so glad to be high up on the bluff, able to see far into the distance where the majestic coastal mountain peaks were clearly visible. In fact the whiteness of the fog cover brought them even more into focus. It is amazing how a sunny spring morning can lift the spirit. Lately I’ve been feeling like I am in a deep fog trying to find my way and then just like that, something shifts and the fog lifts, maybe just for a moment or a day, or if lucky it will be gone for a while.

Spring is not only in the air. It has arrived. Sitting with my computer outside on my deck for the first time this year I can’t express how much I enjoy the sunshine, the freshness of the air and the chimes singing softly in the background. Earlier I noticed the bright smiling daffodils in full bloom and the raspberry bushes budding with their first green leaves in the garden. I just had to pause over and over again noticing which plants where starting to awaken.

The little angel card for today felt very fitting: “Celebration” and the bright yellow blooms in the garden seem to confirm that. As I am typing a sudden strange sound like an old fashioned clock ticking loudly captures my attention. I put my ear to my computer and then my camera to see if they are making this ticking sound, but to my surprise my gaze is drawn to a nearby arbutus tree where the noise appears to be coming from. It turns out that there are two dried up dead leaves clapping together in the gentle breeze. I guess they are agreeing that spring is a time to celebrate. New life and perhaps the possibility of new beginnings are offering themselves in this yearly magical spectacle. With Pluto shifting into the sign of Aquarius this week, I sense there will be many new important developments coming in the next years and that it is important to keep our eyes wide open and make conscious choices of what kind of world we want to create for the next generations.

The clear view this morning brought hope and trust in the natural unfolding as did my time on Mayne Island visiting my son Trygve last week. I had brought my little foldable rigid heddle loom and some wool with me as I had just gotten back into weaving. My son was away on the first night when I arrived. So I took the opportunity to put the warp thread on the loom. After figuring out a perfect set up for this in the tiny home I soon was engrossed in the task. All of sudden I heard an owl hoot not far away. Then there was more hooting and soon I wasn’t sure anymore if it was one owl or two. The hooting turned into a strange cackling sound. It made me laugh when the eery sound brought back memories of my older sister reading the fairy tale Hansel and Gretel one night and the silhouette of the large rubber plant standing outside the open bedroom door sure looked like a witch to me. The funny thing is once I saw it, I couldn’t un-see it. The memory of it was so clear in my mind as I listened to the owls and warped the loom. So I decided to call the piece that I was making “Cackling Witches”.

It is astounding that the things I weave often have a title or name that comes either before I start or at the beginning of the project. It comes through very clearly and it almost feels like the piece is weaving itself. Weaving this one has been great fun. The cackling witches encouraged me let go of the structured ideas of the mind and invited me over and over again to allow the magic to unfold and be bold. Being there with my son made the process even sweeter. His interest and engagement added to the joy and on top of that we found a whole bunch of yarn in the Thrift Store which felt like the icing on the cake. I am afraid his tiny home became a weaving studio with yarn spread out everywhere, but thankfully he didn’t seem mind. To my delight when I told him about the owls and the name they inspired he laughed and said he had heard them. Puzzled I asked him how that is possible when he was off island. He got out his phone and played the sound. A neighbour had recorded some of it and posted it on Facebook.

And so life goes: up and down. One moment full of joy and creativity, the next I find myself maneuvering another challenge or opportunity, however I want to look at it. I sure have felt the intensity of the Equinox and Aries New Moon and I know many others around me have as well. It does feel like a beginning point of something new. What that actually means to me and my life or to us as a collective will no doubt be revealed in time. In the meantime I will keep reminding myself to trust in the unfolding and the magic and to stay as much as I can in my heart and in the now.

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The Holy Yes

Today as I sat by the ocean listening to the gentle crashing of the waves I pondered about writing a new post for my blog. Having encountered one barrier after another since my last post, announcing that I was moving everything from WordPress.com over to my website on WordPress.org, I have felt suspended in mid air, not able to make a move or complete any writings.

Asking myself once again what the purpose or the essence of my blog is, two words bubbled up into my consciousness: ”Nature and Now”. Recognizing immediately that this is what motivates me as well as satisfies many of my passions: writing, photography, presence, being in nature and awakening to our true nature – clarity rang like a bell in the silence and words started pouring out just like the water the waves were bringing in.

It didn’t take long for the writing to be done, finding the pictures I wanted to share with it and then letting it marinate overnight. The next day I sat down eagerly to put the finishing touches on, thinking it would take less than an hour before it was ready to go out into the world. Well, that is not how it turned out. I spent hours editing and every time I tried to save the whole post the computer froze. I did this over and over again until I had to let go.

Instead I went to a chanting event and afterwards drove to the ocean and waited for the dark. Stars began to shimmer in the sky and finally the moment came when I walked into the ocean and swam in the bioluminescence. It was the most enchanting experience I have ever had. The night before I went with three beautiful women and it was truly magical. But being there alone in the water watching light being created by the movement of my body in the silence and darkness is beyond words. The water was warm as I swam naked under the stars. Seeing my whole body lit up and creating light with every little or big movement I have never experienced this kind of enchantment with my own body before. It felt both so personal and transpersonal at the same time. While watching the light move like arrows of light when a fish moved below me I recognized how we all are truly beings of light. It is not just a catchy new age phrase.

Nature is important to me. It nourishes me on every level. It reminds me daily that I am not just a part of it but shows me my own true nature. It gives me so many gifts and teaches me about life and death, light and darkness, rhythms and seasons and the relating of everything to everything. We are never separate from any of it.

When fear or sadness around the state of the world and loss of nature grips me I often choose to come back into the here and now, observing what is actually here on the inside and outside: my thoughts and feelings, the story I create from these thoughts, the little fawn that is walking by my window as I am writing this. (No kidding this is actually happening right now.) This is not to escape the reality of wars, Covid, environmental emergencies, heartbreaks in every corner of the world, but to help me come back to basic trust. As A.H.Almaas says so beautifully in his book Facets of Unity: “Basic trust gives us the capacity to surrender, the capacity to let go, the capacity to jump into the unknown.” It lets me return to the goodness of true nature and this is where my trust originates from.

Coming back to the Now never fails to open my heart if I let myself truly contact what is here and allow myself to receive the gift of this moment. I do not want to miss the blossom that has opened today or notice the mystery of the strange irregular sound of the hummingbird flying to my feeder every evening this week. Nor do I want to miss saying Goodbye to a loved one when the times comes or the feel of the computer keys beneath my finger tips as my hands move like dancing light.

Of course I had to run outside and take a picture of the little fawn. It blended in so well that it took me a while to spot it, plus I was carefully looking around for signs of her mother. Mother deer can be quite protective and so it should be. What a sweet gift to receive as I am writing this and such perfect timing!

This spring I was delighted to find a robin’s nest with three beautiful blue eggs right by my front deck. Being so close to the cabin made it a bit difficult to move around normally. Not wanting to disturb the nesting mother I found a different place to hang up my laundry for a while and go through the cabin to get to other side of the deck. Standing on my futon I could look down into the bush where the nest was well hidden and checked every morning to see if the robin was still sitting on her eggs.

Since the little birds that usually nest above my bedroom window did not return this year, this new development made me very happy. I am sure last year’s long and extreme heatwave had something to do with the pair choosing not to nest under the tin roof again.

Then the sweet moment arrived when three baby birds hatched. Surely you can imagine my joy. It didn’t take long for me to notice my attachment and hope that these beautiful little ones would make it to adulthood. Very quickly I also saw how challenging that actually is.

A hawk came by regularly plucking other babies from nests nearby with the distressed parents doing their best, but really having no chance at all. The father robin disappeared early on before the little ones were even hatched. I am not sure if that is normal for robins, but it seemed like the mother bird was the only one working very hard to feed her three hungry ones.

One early morning peeking through the window I noticed she was not on the nest as usual. It didn’t take long for me to begin to worry and imagine the worst, wondering how I would keep the baby birds alive and thriving. I was grateful to see her return later on. Only a few days later two of her babies disappeared, leaving only one little plump young bird with new emerging feathers sitting on the edge of the nest looking a little forlorn. Checking beneath the bush and the deck I saw no sign of the others. When I returned that evening the last robin baby was gone as well. For a few days I held onto the hope that perhaps it had hopped down to the ground and Mama bird was still feeding it somewhere. But there was no evidence of that. So basic trust invited me once again to open to the wholeness of the unfolding. 

Today I received the last piece of the puzzle that hadn’t allowed me to finish this writing before. It was the “holy Yes” that arose in me in a dyad (a form of contemplation with a partner) this morning. Just like I can’t put into words the experience of swimming in an ocean of light, I cannot really explain the immensity of that Yes, but it included everything way beyond the comprehension of the mind. I feel the completeness and wholeness of that Yes inside of me and I knew it needed to be included in this writing as it permeates everything.

Sparkly And Fresh

It is the New Moon in Aquarius today. I can’t help but feel excited about this one. This wintry, sparkly New Moon holds so much potential. It is inviting us to allow something new to emerge in our consciousness. I wonder what new dream is growing in you? Where do you feel called to move forward in your life?

There is so much energy helping us tap into a new vision with the Sun and Moon and four planets all in Aquarius. May this New Moon show us new ways and new ways of being that bring us together and allow our true nature to shine.

Bright New Moon Blessings to All!

Tending The Inner Garden

This summer seems to be going by so quickly.  Once again I find myself housesitting in a lovely cabin on the south side of Cortes Island with a beautiful ocean view. I am feeling very blessed indeed. Coco, the cat, comes and goes as she pleases. Yet the smoke in the air from all the wildfires covering this part of the world in a thick blanket of haze, makes everything appear unreal and strange. The thick air paints the sun and moon deep red or glowing orange with temperatures that are surprisingly cool.

This morning I found myself thinking about the Orcas that I had seen one foggy evening earlier this spring when I was housesitting not too far from here on the same beautiful beach. I was having a deep conversation at the time with someone when we spotted the whales. There was a male with a much larger fin in the distance moving up and down through the water and a couple of other Orca whales much closer to us that seem to be resting or perhaps waiting. I had heard before that the male will herd a school of fish towards the waiting pod. Then my thoughts turned to the Orca mother who had carried her dead baby for over two and half weeks recently. How can one not be affected by this display of love and deep grief? I couldn’t help wondering if it was the same pod of whales.

With my heart aching for these giants that are suffering and struggling, I got up to put my mug into the sink and looked up to see where grey ocean meets the grey haze. In that very moment my eyes discovered in this endless see of grey a big white spray of water. A whale rose from the water in that instance, letting itself fall back into the depth of it. The feeling of deep surprise is hard to describe as I watched the whale breach a few more times. What are the chances to be looking out the window right in that moment! This recognition of our connection and the many events of synchronicity that keep pointing that there is no separation brought tears to my eyes.

As a tiny spider climbs up my computer screen I wonder what her message is. Perhaps it has to do with the web of life that we all weave together and that every action, every thought effects the whole web. When we open our hearts to those suffering regardless if they are two-legged, four-legged, finned or winged, we are each called to respond just like a mother responds when her child cries out.

A few weeks ago I came across this mushroom breaking through the earth. It made me pause and take in this moment of birthing, watching earth opening, as a new life form pushes through into the light. Isn’t every birth worth stopping for a moment to witness this tremendous miracle of something new being born? And isn’t every death worth pausing to honour the being that is leaving, who has given it’s unique gift to the whole web?

As the summer’s harvest is in full swing and I watch many around me busily collecting and processing what they have planted and tended since early spring, I have to say I miss my garden, but not the huge amount of work that harvesting can be.

I recognize that right now I am tending my Inner Garden. I feel a softness as I write these words and yes, I can see and acknowledge to myself that I, too, am harvesting from my inner garden. A few days ago I picked up my art supplies from home and spend some sweet time in the garden pulling the long overdue garlic from the earth and tying them onto bundles to dry. What bliss it was to see the towering sunflowers and the abundance of beans…

Photo by Dancing Wolf

Yet it is also fun to play again with colours like I haven’t done in a long long time. And it is so freeing to not have any goal, to just let creativity express in whichever way it wants. There is almost a childlike pleasure of discovery and joy in the moment. I just watch as something unfolds with no preconceived notion what it might turn out to be. This drawing named Inner Garden Goddess that came into being a few days ago is part of the harvest of my Inner Garden.

Holding out my finger to the little spider it jumps fearlessly onto it, not just once but a few times, before I carry it outside where it happily climbs onto the clematis leaf. Once again I am reminded “I can trust life” and feel deep gratitude for the whales and what they are here to teach us. May we all open our hearts to receive their gifts!

 

 

 

Don’t Ask Why

All day I meant to go to the garden…but I didn’t…putting it off again and again. You know something is up, when on a beautiful sunny summer day you avoid going outside.

All day I wanted to write, be creative…but felt frozen inside…distracting myself with things that give no life nor joy.

All day something is hovering on the edge of my awareness…and as I am trying to finally grasp it, mosquitos decide I am going to be their meal if I want to or not. Feeling torn to stay with what is finally coming to the surface, yet at the same time trying not to get bitten. What a strange balancing act life is!

Unexpectedly two poems land in my inbox, reminding me of a white dove and a black raven, so beautiful and powerful. Then it rises to the surface and the floodgates open: “Don’t ask why –  sometimes there just are no answers.”

Like the poems a memory now takes me on a journey. I find myself following in slow reverent steps the white Stag through the dark forest. His horns are glowing light illuminating the path. Jaguar and a Grandmother spirit are walking behind me while Eagle flies above. I am being escorted to meet with the one who can help: the Golden Elephant.

Love shatters any remaining shields around my heart when he comes into view. He gently invites me to climb on his back and takes me to where I need to go back to. It is time to release, heal and forgive something very old.

The love that surrounds me holds me in a tight embrace. On this night I will not disappear in the water. On this holy night I will let the sacred water wash away the blood, the tears, the pain. On this holy night my womb is made whole again as I stand waist deep in the ancient sea.

As I turn and slowly step out of the water, I take off the bloodied gown. I walk up to the man sitting there in silence watching me. It takes courage to look into his eyes, but I know I must. As I spiral down lifetimes I lift my head and with my hands on my womb I let the words come out slowly: “I forgive you! And I release you!”

Eyes meet, something clears, something heavy lifts and evaporates.

“I ask you to forgive me as well!” Once again our eyes meet.

Slowly I turn around and go back to the shore where it all ended eons ago. The Golden Elephant, our witness, embraces me one last time with his trunk. Words are not necessary anymore, love knows gratitude and gratitude knows love. In the end there is only love.

When the drums call me back the white Stag carries me to the entrance of the cave in which I once again disappear into another world.

 

 

 

 

Embracing Life As It Is

With summer in full bloom I feel constantly called to try and capture the vibrant beauty with my camera. Some of these moments are only meant to be captured with the heart’s eye like the tiny speckled fawn following her mother into the bushes. While others like the butterfly resting on vibrant blooms or the incredible abundance of berries after the rain may be shared here with you. I have never seen such an abundance of berries and marvel at the green lushness on each walk through the forest.

Last week a different kind of experience left me feeling rather unsettled for a few days challenging me once again to accept life on it’s own terms. For me dragonflies, like butterflies and hummingbirds, have always felt like messengers of joy and magic, delighting me with their beauty as they whirl through the air.

That perception was deeply challenged when I found a dead (?!?) dragonfly on the path to the garden. Stopping to glance at it briefly after another dragonfly had flown away from it, I intended to just walk by to get to the garden to fulfill my mission of checking on the plants and do some weeding.

However as I was stepping past the dragonfly body, a movement near it caught my eye. Thinking that it was perhaps a spider, I curiously turned back to take a closer look. Crouching down I noticed the spider was turning to look at me. My mind reeled when I recognized that the spider was not a spider at all, instead it was the severed head of the dragonfly with two of its legs attached. For a moment I wondered if I had stepped into some kind of Sci-fi movie.

As I moved around the dragonfly in disbelief, it’s head kept turning so it could see me, which was a bit unnerving. Then witnessing the body starting to move as well, I wondered what was happening here. It seemed liked the two parts were trying to move towards each other. All my concept of life, death, dragonflies, nature and beauty were turned upside down in that moment and my mind (head) did not know what to do with this information. 

Later after grounding myself in the garden with weeding for an hour, I decided to go back to the house to do some research. Noticing my deep reluctance to go passed the dragonfly, I made myself stop to look at it again. This time neither the body nor head moved. Part of me was greatly relieved, while another part of me (my head) wanted answers.

At home I looked up all kinds of information on dragonflies. I learned a lot I didn’t know, but only found one other person online speaking of a similar experience of the detached head staying alive for quite some time. Now several days after the event I am able to share this without feeling disturbed by it. It took some time to come to terms with this and now I can honestly say, I am glad that I had this experience. Once again something in me needed to expand, let go of fear and not only accept something that felt so bizarre in the moment, but find the gift and wonder in it.

I even asked myself what this might mirror to me. Reflecting on this, I am now able to see how often my head (logic) is in charge and how we are so conditioned to let it make the decisions in our lives, often not taking our heart, body or spirit into consideration.

Taking the world in through my eyes (like the dragonflies does with it’s 30,000 lenses in each eye) I instantly put reality into certain boxes of reference and sense that these boxes narrow my experience of life. It also made me wonder if life is asking me to slow down, instead of listening to my mind’s constant nagging “but you haven’t done this…” and run around like chicken with its’ head cut off. This saying has a whole new meaning to me now and I don’t say this lightly.

It also made me look at beauty and how my mind keeps it neatly in a box: This is beautiful! This is not beautiful! I am grateful for the many gifts this experience brought me from challenging my perception of life and nature, looking  much deeper into myself and how I meet the unknown and how I meet life, as well as finding beauty in dying and death.

The greatest gift however is the realization that I can trust life to bring me the perfect experiences I need to expand and welcome life’s gifts with an open mind and heart. That is not always easy like this experiences showed me. Yet I know that as I open to what is different and unknown, I take another step on this journey towards greater love and wisdom.

 

 

The Turning Of The Wheel

As I watch the last days of Winter dance and intermingle with the first days of Spring, showing me once again that life doesn’t happen in a straight line, nor can it be predicted or controlled, my mind has a hard time to surrender to “what is” at times. Whereas another part of me is glad, that this is so, for it allows the experience of awe and wonder, keeping us connected to the great mystery of life.

Witnessing the great wheel turning and seasons changing, I open myself to whatever the new day might bring: perhaps another round of snow, or sunshine and the sweet fragrance of Spring, that makes me long to be outside and receive it with every cell of my body, or even hail or thunder announcing both an ending and a new beginning.

With winter ending in this part of the world, I notice many changes and awakenings around me as well as inside of me. It has been a long journey, that felt a lot like having been deep under water, only coming up for a breath of air here and there. Today as the sun is warming my skin and the birds are singing ever so sweetly, I experience a feeling of lightness, reminding me of what it feels like to float on the surface of the water without any resistance, allowing the current to carry me gently to an unknown destination.

The last six months have been intense, expanding, beautiful and hard. Letting go of a partnership is a deep process with many doubts, fears and old patterns, all rising to the surface at once, yet giving the opportunity to meet them in a new way, as well as allowing myself to take a deep honest look at myself, the relationship and what is prompting the letting go. Sitting with one another in the love, the pain and the grief, witnessing each other in this process, so unique and different, yet shared with such sincerity.

Today I feel the wheel of life shifting not only the season, but my life into something new. I have no idea of what it will look like. Lying awake in the early morning hours, listening to first stirring of the day, wondering where life might take me and hoping to find that special cottage or cabin, my own little nest in Nature somewhere on this island, that feels right for me, where I once again can immerse myself in the work that I love so much: Vibrational Alignment sessions, transformational coaching, writing, blogging and creating to my heart’s content.

Feeling the deepest gratitude for the powerful and rich experience of coming together five years ago, following our dream here to Cortes and now shifting into a new way of relating, as we cut the cord and untethered under the Libra Blue Moon, where we offered this relationship to the fire, acknowledging the support we have given each other through the many emotional waves that letting go have stirred up in us on this journey, meeting the deep call of growth. Love has been our guide and has brought us to this point.

Breathing into this turning of the wheel, I allow myself to inhale deeply, allowing the gift of life all the way in, where it expands my belly, my chest, my awareness, before releasing it slowly, channeling it through my heart deliberately, then through my throat and out my nostrils. With each deep breath in and out, I feel the space in my heart expand and a softness in me welcoming this new day and season, holding onto trust that all will be well. Writing this, I remember the dolphins attending our ceremony around the Solar Eclipse, not only supporting us on this journey of untethering, but raising the vibration so high, and that there could only be joy.

Right now I also feel deep joy in writing and sharing with you once again. It has been a while since this urge to communicate and share got strong enough to break through, whatever resistance or process I was in. Yet in this long pause I have also learned to trust deeper in the Muse to guide me and show me to give room for this inner turning that is going on, much like the seeds in the grounds preparing for the right moment to break through the earth into the light.

And for my dear friends who haven’t heard from me in a while, please forgive me! I needed to give myself this time and space to fully immerse myself and honour the deep process of letting go of my relationship and the expansion that was being asked of me.

As I looked into my now former partner’s eyes today, I saw the same lightness also reflected in his eyes and I have never seen him more radiant.

I am so very grateful to know and see you and be known and seen by you. To a new way of “relating”! And to Love!

 

 

 

Daily Prompt: Radiant

 

Beckoning

Housesitting a quaint little cabin in the forest, I didn’t expect to find a large blue feather lying on the windowsill. My heart fluttered when I saw it, suddenly remembering the little experiment a new friend had encouraged me to make, after sharing some of his own lessons he had learned in Hawaii. He had suggested a couple of weeks before my own journey to Hawaii to envision a blue feather and allow it to come to me.

I went home and held my vision for a while, waiting for a blue feather to magically appear. Every time a Stellar’s Jay announced its presence, I wondered, maybe it would gift me with one of it’s beautiful blue feathers. But that didn’t happen! However a very special poem written by Joyce Rupp found me instead.

Getting caught up in my intense and powerful journey of untethering and discovering, I forgot all about it, both the feather and the poem…until now, when least expected I saw the large blue feather shining on the special cloth on the window sill altar.

Remembering the poem as I held the feather in my hand I felt prompted to share it with you now. As the sun is beckoning me to go outside and explore and be, I send out this beautiful poem with so much love in my heart dedicating it to all my sisters out there and to the Divine Feminine in this time of deep inner awakening….

A Small, Soft Feather
by Joyce Rupp

a small, soft feather,
still warm
from bluebird’s wing,
falls onto the receptive
forest floor.

lightly it lands
under a thick-branched oak;
quietly it waits,
unnoticed, unattended,

until a sister of earth pauses,
beckoned by a flutter
of unseen energy.
she bows her kindled heart

stoops ever so slowly,
and the remnant of the blue bird
comes home
to her generous hand.

days later another earth sister
opens an envelope;
resting inside, waiting,
is the blue of sky
in shape of a feather.

from warm wing
to great oak,
to earth sister
to friend,

comes the soft blue signal,
and in a sparkle of recognition
a woman, weighed down
with too many wants,
remembers how to fly.

Clearing The Path

Waking up at four in the morning from the rain and wind, creating a wild song that reminded me a lot of the rhythm “Chaos” in the 5Rhythms movement practice, in which a wave consists of five rhythms: flow, staccato, chaos, lyrical and stillness. Chaos has always been my least favorite part of the wave, finding it challenging to move to music that feels jarring not only to my body but my senses as well. Usually I would either resist it or eventually surrender to it. Last night the raindrops hitting the metal roof from the trees above in loud chaotic patterns and fitful waves, combined with the unpredictable gusts of wind making the cabin moan and groan, made sleeping rather challenging.

The sudden sound effects kept pulling me out of sleep again and again, causing my mind to try to identify the unruly sounds of the night and wrestling with the thoughts and fears they evoked. At one point going back to sleep seemed impossible, as my mind had latched onto the question that had been swirling around for a day, of what it means to ascend.

Earlier in the day I had read about this week’s photo challenge “Ascend”, which had awakened in me that particular question, never mind figuring out a photo that would fit this theme. My first response was wanting to google the word “ascend” as an easy way out, so that my mind would rest and let me go back to sleep. But I knew this wouldn’t be enough, something was prompting me to listen to the answer inside of me. After a while of listening  to the wild noise outside and contemplating the question, I had to admit, that “I don’t know!”, and this opened up a space to see some things I couldn’t see before.

Remembering how much I resisted having to clear the path to the meditation area earlier that day, which was totally overgrown and the jungle had reclaimed it when no-one was paying attention or using it anymore. Wrestling with spiky leaves from the giant century plant and thorny raspberry canes that would tear my flesh and clothing, adding to the “not wanting to do this” and feeling too tired from the super long bus rides into town, not to mentioned the rain which added to the discomfort and resistance.

As the day was coming to an end and it was getting to hard to see, I suddenly noticed a shift in me. Looking around the space I had uncovered and created, I sensed a new spaciousness inside of me and the resistance that was so present earlier, was no where to be found.

Lying there in bed in those early morning hours, I could suddenly see how removing each thorny bush, thick ferns and weeds was also clearing out my own inner entanglement of thoughts, fears, beliefs and desires, which is exactly what meditation helps us do. Just as my resistance to the noise of the wind and rain was exactly the chaos I needed to wake up and shake out the last remaining ties or blockages, which is exactly what chaos in 5 Rhythms dancing gives us the opportunity to do, which then can lead to inner stillness even when the wind is rocking my little cabin.

Remembering the work of the last thirty days here, all the clearing and weeding of the jungle, as well as bagging pig dirt (the earth that the wild pigs loosen from the lava rocks and we can then use for planting), I feel such gratitude and can see the perfection of it all. How everything is helping me on my path, repeatedly prompting me to love life and what is, love what I am a part of creating and becoming, even if it looks like pig dirt and embracing this impulse to clear the barriers, to evolve and ascend.

Thinking of what happened after I stopped clearing the meditation area, brought a big smile to my face. Hurrying back to my cabin to get out of my wet clothes and change into something dry and warm, I disturbed a gecko, who had been lounging on my chair and promptly escaped into the pile of clothing that were there. Seeing his tail sticking out of my pajama pants, I couldn’t help but laugh at the humour of it all and carried my little friend outside, before he got into more mischief. What better way to remind me of not getting too comfortable or fall asleep, but a Gecko in my pajama pants!

I also began noticing the difference in me now as I listened to the rain and wind’s wildness with a sense of openness and gratitude for waking me up and helping me see, that as I am clearing the path and the meditation area, I am clearing the trail to my own inner stillness and center.

After writing down some of these awarenesses, I turned off my headlamp and for a little while I could still see the light in my mind’s eye, even though the cabin was once again wrapped in darkness shaking like a leaf in the wind. I wondered for a moment if the light was perhaps shining from my third eye and showing me the way to ascension. This idea brought a soft smile to my face, as I drifted into sleep, listening to the beautiful awakening sound of chaos.

In response to the Weekly Photo Challenge: Ascend

Flower Power

Opening….allowing….offering….receiving….

The crows came for a short visit this morning, landing in the trees close to the house. Peeking into the window they delivered their message and were gone in a heartbeat. This is Raven territory, so crows are a rather unusual sight here at Elkenwolf.

Later I went into the garden and was looking at the many flowers that are opening, offering their sweet nectar with such grace despite the grey and cool weather. Watching the bees drink joyfully from the vibrant centres, I allowed the fiery colours of the poppies to awaken in me the truth to follow, what makes me come fully alive, and burn away any fears that stop me from doing that.

Thanks to the flowers, the message is now clear.