In a storm

The storm rages like I rage

Eternal conflict between love and freedom

The land encapsulates both

And whenever I see destruction of nature both freedom and love die within me and

I rage like the wildest sea that despite all life’s chains can not be locked away or tamed

That is the essence of my being

I rage like the blazing sun of mid summer when rain is in hiding and the burning is in the heart that can’t be pacified

My Firy love lies in remote corners of the land where the wild heart of its core merges with mine

Whoever steps in it must be beaten with the power of wilderness, must be tested to a point of no limits

My heart bleeds for the land where wolves roam no longer yet their spirits are alive with roar against the tiny hand of humanity

Destroying land is destroying freedom like a dagger through its own mother’s heart whose love prevails no matter what

The wind, water, fire and cracking earth core are voices, fierce in their screams

Freedom and love – only in land I find they don’t conflict within me

Only here I am simultaneously consumed and released

It is the place where death lies next to me gently

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Can Nature…?

Can nature heal

Can earth bring us back to our knees and pierce its ancient dagger through the heart

Can nature teach you who you are

Can a bird song inspire, delight and speak of both sorrow and joy

Can river wash away the debris of the worldly matter

Can mountain hold you in such a way you never wobble again

Can spring flowers inject a hope into our being

Can roaming animal body remind us of the raw wilderness within

Can the falling snow cover us in sheer enchantment

Can rain drops on the skin put us in touch with our bodies

Can a flight of an eagle inspire strength and power waiting to take flight inside of us

Can God bow before its majesty and weep tears of love

What is it that nature does and doesn’t that makes our lives worth living and speaks of meaning old as centuries

Of nature we are born and to its body we return

As outside so is within

What can be more life, meaning, strength and delight all at the same time

Nature is magic and matter, spirit and body

Bones and blood, skin and intelligence

All embracing…

One place we become whole, we come home, we know what we are

Winter time

A virgin bride or a silver-haired crone

Who rules the stillness of the white majesty

Perhaps both

The elegance of lace and ice that envelopes nature brings such quietness, such pause to a restless soul

Majestic awe of land covered in white purity

Like a fresh breath of spirit rooted in landscape

Orange and pink sunrises and sunsets bring immense uplifting to all senses

Only in winter nature one feels reborn from the depth of darkness emerging brand new and wise in knowing true appreciation of life and death

January – all about death

  • This month has been all about death.
  • I just read this powerful essay and I cried and cried. Reality is real and it is here and it will either jolt you into action or into being or will paralyse you. Part of the signature for 2019 is working out what your reality is in the context of the collective reality and here we are already jumping head on into this year’s challenges. Going to be quite a ride. We will be thrown into awakening with quite a force
  • https://scarletimprint.com/essays/rewilding-witchcraft?fbclid=IwAR3nXgQnuhzSRGgn7YJ7eOXd1rNunodb48yNUXO2Ck8uBDXDMHK8_7xEM9o

    A dream…

    Oh how I just want to go and not return

    As I would be home at last and forever

    This separation seems more and more pointless like waiting for nothing and everything

    It is right there. I can feel the land’s beating heart within my own

    Yet like chains otherness holds me and it feels like a rope round my neck yet necessary, almost pretending to be a gift

    Love is a strange thing. The strangest

    It pulls and pushes and one never really knows how to be with it as often there is no reason or explanation. It just is…

    Its powerful curse of surrender though can either make you or break you but what’s the worse is not having ever felt it or being fulfilled by it

    Damn you, I say in one breath and in another I take in the soul of my child smiling at me

    I am walking away one day and another I am asked to stay by warm presence of another

    Land or man, wild or contained, soulful or dutiful it is all entwined in the existence of today

    I closed my eyes in my sleep earlier today and saw a cottage with Gaelic words above the door. I was speaking the words as if I knew the tongue naturally, but I struggled to make meaning. There was two versions of the wording, I remember that clearly. Walking into the cottage and crouching down due to a low entrance ceiling I was carrying an old water pale. It felt calming, like home, like where I want to be. So clear a vision, a dream

    Winter, anxiety, death…

    It has all been rather grey and moody this month as if life stopped at this place of no particular interest, a downward mood yet not particularly depressive. Confusion, uncertainty and anxiety have been at the centre of the feeling of it all although with a clear awareness of everything actually being all right. There has been motion yet it felt dragging. There has been laughter and warmth with odd moments of grief flying in from nowhere. Most peculiar presentation of the season I’d say, however thinking about it there is nothing really surprising about it. Winter and grief go hand and hand and death and anxiety are good old friends.

    I have experienced it all it seems in just one month and something in me can’t help but wonder what the next month could possibly bring.

    My body has thrown up another mysterious ailment. Usually these happen in spring for me, but this time it came in winter and I believe it is linked to both grief and anxiety. Those two human issues have been present in my life always and I have come to take it for granted and somewhat my body, the wise old vessel that it is, decided to remind me or rather slap me in the face with asking me to revisit what both of those mean to me. Is it actually good for me to be exposed to it all the time or is it time to admit it is not always the best? I realised that I abandon myself over and over again when faced with grief and anxiety and not only that both signatures go right through my body and always manifest in curious things. I am completely disarmed by them, it seems.

    This time I was faced with not being able to breathe. That tapped into my death anxiety and having to face that and look underneath of what that presentation meant, not to mention lung being directly linked to grief and death. How vulnerable I am to it all and how clever my body is to jolt me into considering the consequences.

    I don’t want to die gasping to air and I don’t want to live my life waiting for the moment when I can’t take another breath and die. I can’t placate my anxiety or avoid it with doing the exact thing that takes my breath away in a sense of killing me. There is so much connection and meaning to it all. All quite sad, dark and paralysing.

    What I am trying to say here and learn from is that our body is so wise and knowing if only we listened to it and for sure there will be consequences if we don’t. That much is clear. I know my body for being friendly and always on my side despite a life-long abuse thrown at it. How much it had to put up with yet never left me and when the ultimate function of air in my lungs became compromised suddenly death stepped in with a possibility of taking me. Truly awakening.

    What a month it has been so far. Scary, up and down and everything in between yet nothing at all. In the stillness of winter, indeed, we are often faced with the darkest faces of existence. It is stark in my mind the true meaning of the season this year. There’s a certain old and murky wisdom taste to it this year. Perhaps this will only amplify with myself getting old, who knows, but one just never knows what awaits us.

    Sunday visit to my church

    Frost and sunshine – a glorious combination of Fire and Ice. I love the Sun when there is no heat and instead the cold hits my face and senses.

    Every Sunday morning, without fail I put on my hiking boots and go into nature to release, renew, regenerate and listen. I simply can not live without it.