Call back the souls

Does the land call souls back? She does.

Or how else she knows and hears more of its beauty

It seeks souls out who crave home like a mother’s breast, those who carry their hearts ready for surrender

All that souls want is belonging, sacred quiet of the land’s womb forever tied together

And in their belonging they praise, admire and serve the spirit of the land as the creator of them all

Glory to the land that souls worship like ships after a battle flocking back home where all is true and peaceful

Does the land call souls home? She does as that’s how things end for us all including her that only lives and breathes when she’s loved completely, till the end

Answering the ‘call’

 

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Isle of Mull, Scotland 2017

I heard the call back in 2013 and when stepping upon this land my heart exploded. I was tossed and turned with internal screaming, bursting into tears of joy and confusion. Struck by sheer magic and meaning of what it was like to belong to a place I never knew existed.

It took me years to work out what had happened back then when I first visited Scotland. Every year since then I can not bear be parted from it. It hasn’t been easy going back and stepping into the land that knew my soul so well again and again and having to leave it behind every time consumed by nothing less than sheer grief.

I am still in that place of neither here nor there, desperately wanting to go and needing to stay, having to live the life I have here, which is glorious in many ways. I am content yet deep yearning never leaves me for the place that stole my utter being and grabbed hold of me so tightly.

With each passing year the pull of the land continues, in fact, it has intensified with each summer when I would make the same journey and every winter when my heart would pine for it. I fought against it and even tried to convince myself it wasn’t real or happening just to test yet the answer was always the same. It is in my bones so deep I can’t be separated from it physically or spiritually.

I lived there before a long time ago and died a gruesome death with my blood spilling directly on the earth and penetrating its cells. I was of the land like a native animal that recognised smells, sounds and colours of every season the land had dressed itself in. I am still of that land, I am still that animal. I can taste it and its distinctive smell never leaves my senses. It is a particular sensation instantly recognisable by me. I can reach it at any moment yet physical separation remains too much to bear.

I live with my heart open and always listen carefully and intentionally to what the next step might be…

 

The Land of dreaming

Caingorms National park, Scotland
Upland spring by Loch Etchachan, Cairngorm National Park, Grampian Area. ©Lorne Gill/SNH

Am I asleep or am I dreaming? What is this feeling of all consuming something my heart struggles to hold yet wants so deeply? I am overjoyed yet bereft at the same time. I cry and laugh all in one moment of sheer madness when I lay my hands on the land. My feet touch the green softness moist with the promise of morning dew. I live, I die, I am in haven yet in pain.

My love affair with the land began a few years ago when I first experienced this strange merging with something. I came upon a place that had a certain smell, vibration where I felt I died and gone to heaven, where my body struggled to adjust to all that air, space and majestic wilderness. Did it touch upon my own sleepy wild heart? It made me cry mad words into the air and at others surrounding me. It made no sense to myself or anyone else yet I couldn’t stop screaming, crying and falling breathless on the grass of the earth seemingly sacred to my soul. It felt like reawakening of love of some kind, familiar yet new, scary yet exciting. Ever since the first step upon the land this dance of confusion carried on summer after summer.

Ambivalent, powerful pull like a voice that screams terrible words one minute and sings a soft lullaby the next. I hear it always yet the message is unclear. Come, go, stay, leave, dance, sit, scream, be quiet. Whatever it all means I find the unfolding of this relationship fascinating.

I am still searching for a settlement. It is alive in my mind, but reality is quite scary. Whenever I am in the land of my dreaming I feel hugely overwhelmed, bitter-sweet, can’t breathe it is too much air type of situation, total intoxication, grief at the thought of separation, yet a relief somewhat when away, but not for long, as the yearning of the heart returns just as strong to merge with it again and it continues like this year after year. I find myself quite confused about it all by now…

The Land’s calling

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It is the time of my soul’s bleeding with deep connection to the land, which is calling again and again. It is such a powerful pull that it feels painful and pleasurable at the same time. It is a deep yearning within me that calls me to walk the land’s high hills and smell the soil of the old, moist, fresh wind-swept landscape my soul craves. My heart begins to ache in the feeling of missing my other home, the place that doesn’t let go off me when I am not around. It calls, it sings to me and my bones feel its essence. I miss it so much. I want to see stags gallantly walking the forests and hills and standing still staring, undecided whether to run or continue with their curiosity. They are such beautiful creatures, strong yet vulnerable. I yearn to see them in the land’s autumn dress with trees and grass changing colour and air slowly turning cool with a promise of winter. I wish I could stand at the top of a mountain screaming with delight for I am there, I am alive and the land around me embraces me in its vastness.

Every year it seems I bear the separation with hardly breathing and unable to hold my excitement when I am finally released into the land of my soul. I cry, I ache and spend long hours imagining, smelling, walking the hills and forests in my dreams. At times it is unbearable and I cry uncontrollably and I feel like putting on my boots and running towards the land however far. It feels impulsive with no reason existing in that moment of deep wanting to merge with the landscape, immerse my face into a cold water of a Loch and drink the fresh air of pine forest. The wind, oh how I wish to be swept with it and my face blasted with its force waking me up to my core, shaking all the cobwebs out of my being.

Another year, another period of waiting with a heart that aches and loves oh so deep…

Earthly peace of a soul 

 
When does a soul find its Earthly peace? Powerful… Words from a song went deep through my skin earlier today. One has got to have something in their life that touches them, something beyond personal, something that feels and look like home, a feeling of pure and sacred. From that precious thing a life meaning is born.
What is that something that touches you in your life?

Without anything that touches our tender heart is our experience full? What are we here for? What is life without a spirit, purpose or meaning? In the absence of the precious thing we walk on the Earth blind, dead, strangers to all things spirit. We are born with that feeling intact in us and very few remain in touch in that. It either gets snatched away, hidden, banished or lost.
Spirit, however, continues to exist, live and breathe all around us, if not within. It continues to love unconditionally. It seeks that reunion again and again, it knocks on our door, stops you in your tracks, sends signs and blessings, sometimes dresses as sorrow to catch our attention. Do we notice? To notice one must stop yourself, anchor heavy into feelings and until we cry all the tears and open up all the wounds and dig around in them we do not allow ourselves to move. There’s no escape from spirit. We can’t live without a soul. It’s ever present, but whether it remains crying or it is allowed to rejoice that is a choice to make. How do we get back in touch with spirit. Ask yourself what touches you? What gives your eyes a sight that takes your breath away.
Psychological healing is a big step towards aligning with spirit within us, it’s a big clear out job, as one of my clients once said – ‘like clearing after a hurricane’ and clear we must because only once all the debris is gone we can see, feel, experience the spirit in its most glory. We experience it in us. Until then it’s like a homeless being that seeks and points and cries and shouts to get our attention, but closed hearts do not hear, see or feel and we walk on by leaving no trail of an empty life.
What is that thing that touches you…