Back to safety

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Sometimes what once was the centre of your world becomes exhausting, murky and isolating. This year I have opened my eyes to others’ perspectives on that very important thing I had only looked at from my own heart’s perspective. It can be hard to separate heart and mind when the love one feels is all consuming. It is very true what they say about love being blind. Grateful I am for insights and clarity on a picture, which had only ever had one presentation, nothing else compared and something I fiercely and unconditionally protected shutting eyes and ears to anything else in the process. It nearly cost me dearly and took me away in a direction I knew nothing about however much I convinced myself that I did.

Today I looked at that same picture and saw a gloomy, lonely, unwell landscape what before seemed like haven on earth, the only place to live and die. Strikingly it looked back at me as there we both were as if seeing each other for the first time. What an eye-opening experience this summer. I finally admitted and accepted that suffering does not equate eternal bliss, they are polar opposites, yet my attachment to pain, an old pattern, slowly sneaked up into this experience. Being blind was part of the game, part of the lure into a place dark and lonely. Love is a funny thing and that, I understand, relates to all sorts of love, be it for a person, behaviour, place or a certain feeling. We often get blind-sided by what we are not willing to see for the sake of preserving what we think will ultimately bring us joy. When we get out of our heads and step away from this one perspective we can see all the blind spots. The words of others would ring in our ears all at once and suddenly, for the first time, we hear their voices and see their perspective. Being trapped in a love that is projected, idealised can be dangerous, I know it now, as that kind of love will ask you to give up many things and people, who are actually meant to be in your life. Others are like mirrors into our experience, they are there to point out where we are going wrong and take us back into their arms no matter how far we might have strayed. This is a blessing, as what would happen if there was no way back, no one there to welcome us back to a safe shore?

It has been a difficult summer in particular. I found my allies in places I didn’t expect and returning to a home I long forgot provided me with much needed foundation to start rebuilding my experience, anew, in a different way, more kind and compassionate to the whole of myself, not just an isolated part.

Relationships, however, weak, strong, distant or unnoticed are valuable for us all and should be cultivated and cherished even if only for a while, but the most important thing is to notice, to hear, to allow for that hand of help stretch towards us when we don’t know what is good for us. Living in the earthly is fundamental for the spiritual to feel safe – that much is clear. One without the other is limited and it is also the most difficult integration and manifestation there is, the hardest lesson to learn while we remain in this time space reality.

Summer always feels unsafe to me with its unforgiving, merciless sun and the overwhelm of all senses with dense, unpenetrable forests’ paths. I get lost, confused and on edge all of the time, which makes me vulnerable to all sorts of experiences. They hit all at once, relentless dreams, mental states confusion, anxiety, body shutting down its communication. I don’t feel healthy or well during summer and by the end of it I am always exhausted and in a break-down mode in every way. Now with autumn coming, I am finally coming back to myself., back to safety. Relieved I can begin to breathe again. A process of recovery and reconstruction starts all over again, as it does every year. I am yet to figure out a way of working with summer, something, I suspect, is meant to be that exact way, although difficult to tolerate.

Photo: Arielle Vey ariellevey.com
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The body of my body

soul land
Celtic forest ~ Isle of Mull, Scotland 2018

What does it mean to belong to the wind, water and sand

When your body craves its wilderness like some light or food that promises heaven

Heaven it is, indeed, it is

I know it by quenching my thirst by standing on its ancient shores

I am you and you are me eternally bonded like perfectly matched body cells

Like an animal I crawl through heather-fragranced hills sniffing its soft magic as if my last breath

My body relaxes

My senses awake

I know this land is my home

 

 

That place

There’s this place I know far far into northern parts

It is raw with spirit, with rugged edges and foamy waves and winds that rip through your heart mercilessly

It is the wild part in me it speaks to the most

It is the unrest in my soul it wants to harbour like a ship of its own fleet, like a native creature long extinct

What I didn’t know it holds cruelty as it will ask you to give up all that is here and now, all that is day to day

It is made of another substance all together and it lives only by its own rules

It holds the biggest spirit in its rivers, mountains and forests that it will blind you with its majesty and beauty

Losing yourself to it is easy, effortless, delightful even

Pulling yourself back into life is near impossible as once that pristine air enters your lungs it is all you will find yourself being able to breathe and life, that life we have here on Earth becomes worth losing

Dangerous, you see, losing yourself in the overwhelm of the beautiful land, joining spirit before your time

The land is a perfect place for that, losing yourself. It knows the deepest grief and the most glorious rising towards another world where nothing matters but the feeling of belonging to it unconditionally, in surrender

Shadows at dawn

The pull of a new calendar year is strong, as if something in me can’t wait for a clean sheet of paper to start writing another story. It yarns for the taste of spring, for fresh changes. This is very much in the collective at this time of year and I do have some resistance to being caught up in the collective yearly pattern, as I know there isn’t a need to be in that place, yet here I am. Have you noticed how pictures of bluebells begin to pop up here and there around this time? People post them everywhere. It pulls us out of here and now in an instant and we begin to wonder.

Anger is often present for me during this month, which is one of those months I wait to be done with. The cycle of holidays every year and all that comes with it brings a lot of ‘don’t want to be part of it’ feelings. It is quite uncomfortable with a bitter taste that needs to digest and integrate before a new something is seen and experienced. I guess what I refer to is some shadow elements of the psyche is brewing on the surface of my unconscious and, yes, I do recognise it. It needs expression, but also containment. It is angry, expressive, violence-like, impulsive. It needs attention and love, but it doesn’t mean it is a nice picture to look at. It is often not and it can be loud especially in dreams when I know how to parcify it during waking hours.

Very similar in nature if you notice in certain places, like the one I just came from, e.g. everything was grey and not just in a way of rainy skies, but the whole atmosphere was covered with colour grey, dull and feeling like it’s not enjoying it. I describe this energetically, but visually it looks like a wet, old rag, for example, that can do with a bit of whiteness injected or a dirty water that’s stagnated. It needs renewing, refreshing.

If I was to describe it as a feeling in the body that would be stress, exhaustion, sleep deprivation, ‘bags under eyes’ type of presentation. It is a sort of wanting to rest yet being restless as monsters are moving within in the dark, under the ground.

I know the ‘beast’ very well although I haven’t seen it or heard for sometime. With me the triggers are stress and being stretched or asked to do things I don’t want to do. These have been running for years. During this time I also pick it up from others easily and that overwhelms me a great deal. December is like the remains of something, like the last residue of some unpleasant drink or wet ashes post fire.

This year has all been about doing things differently and the above patterns have also run their course. Enough is enough I’d say. There’s got to be another way of expressing shadow material so that it doesn’t just have its needs’s met and go back into a state of being parcified, but it has a chance to transform into or balance with the opposing force. Something is needed immediately as these things arise. More transforming and less keeping in awareness I’d say. I will give it a go next.

Happy 2019! Let it offer more explorations and awareness. Further success and achievements, more joy and satisfaction.

You

Are you the wind that whispers in my ear or a stream beneath my feet with its bubbling tones

Are you a bird, a tree, a flower that I encounter or are you silence amidst the night air

I feel you in all corners of existence

Be it noise or quiet, dark or light

You are in all the tapestry of life that I perceive daily

You are moments of my holding breath and standing still when my heart wants to fly away to all the places that you are

You are my life’s anchor like the oldest wisdom there is that tells me to stay, to act, to dream and be

You are my life as much as anything I know that I am. Made up parts of one whole, a million of others merged together yet I can pick you apart from any other

You feel most of all like home, a soft fleshy part of my soul a colour of the purest blue and green and purple

I take you in with each breath as if the sweetest taste I have ever experienced

I am grateful to you for touching the earth and imprinting my heart with you and only you that for the rest of my days I will always know what it feels like to love, to grieve, to grow and surrender…

“I miss you… always”

“I miss you”, she thought to herself quietly flying towards it in her mind.

“I am here”, the land replied, always here.

“I think I know that now”, she breathed in easy yet with a touch of sadness.

“Any time, anywhere in your awareness I live”, the land gently spoke.

“In my awareness you live and like a precious jewel I carry you close to my heart”, she replied.

One day you are a stunning white bird singing so loud I can’t ignore you or pretend it doesn’t hurt to hear your song. The next day you are leaves under my feet content and ready to surrender.

In my awareness you live, in that awareness I breathe till the next time I step into your arms expansive and raw and scream again, ” I am here, I have missed you so…”

Winter in the Highlands

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It is Munro climbing season in Scotland and these folk, who shared these stunning images, are out and about loving winter just as much as I do.

The Land of Spirit at its finest!

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