Going Home~

Image by Martina Lang

There is a feeling I get whenever I go to my hometown that always surprises me. It comes the instant that I arrive in that valley surrounded by those familiar hills and mountains. At first it comes in the form of a kind of amnesia, where the memories of my new life disappear. As the car meanders down the winding road to the place of my childhood, I am nowhere else but HOME. In these moments I can barely remember that I ever left and I marvel at this feeling that seems to come up from the very ground I walk upon.

In my mind I can still hear my grandmother's voice showing me the buttercups blooming on the hillside just before town. "Spring is here" she would say, and the way she would say it, those three simple words, would always make me think that the whole world was new and beautiful and filled with promise. As my mother slows the car to round the last bend into town, we both look up at the hill to those tiny yellow blooms that speak to us of all the days before this one, and all of those to come after. We are silent for a moment, before we look at one another and say, "Grandma's buttercups."

Image from Internet

I have heard it told, that in the indigenous traditions, the people believe that the spirits of the land welcome us back to our birthplace. That the elemental beings and the guardians of the earth who dwell in our homeland, never forget us. That we are as much a part of the land as the trees and the blades of grass, as the yellow buttercups on the green hillside.

Artist Unknown

Walking by the creek with my little niece, looking up at a circling hawk in the April sky, I think I might agree with those wise indigenous ones. That indeed there is a kind of invisible magic inviting us to sink down into the roots of our own beings and drink up the nourishment of being HOME.

When I get on my plane tonight and I fly over these beautiful and sacred mountains I will give thanks to this good earth for reminding me of this beautiful circle I am a part of. And when I walk through the front gate of my little green cottage, 300 miles away from my hometown, another feeling will greet me. Another sense of HOME, and one that is just as wonderful. When my dog licks my face in his enthusiasm to see me after four long days, and my man put's the kettle on, I will remember my new life in all of it's beauty, just as I have remembered my old life.

Someone once said, "Home is where the heart is," and I think I would have to agree.

Gus~

On this day, 3 years ago,

I met the most extraordinary being.

Who grew into the most extraordinary Dog.

Whose wisdom, I am quite sure, reaches beyond the stars...

Who reminds me every day of the most important things:

Like running with the wind in your hair.

Like sitting by the sea in the sun.

Like getting your feet wet, in the in-coming tide.

Like loving, with all of your might.

Happy Birth Day Gus~

How blessed I am to have you in my life.

Waking with the Sun~

"Though we seem to be sleeping, there is an inner wakefulness that directs the dream, and that will eventually startle us back to the truth of who we are."

~Rumi

I must say that I find these the best sorts of moments, that is, being startled by a wonderful truth.

Just the other morning I was out in my garden doing sun salutations with Gus ( who, by the way, does the best downward dog I have ever seen) and I found myself in the midst of one of these waking moments that our dear Rumi eludes to.

Standing there, the rising sun on my face, my arms stretched up toward the sky, I realized that I was feeling as blessed to feel the warmth of the sun as the dazzling daffodils, standing in their yellowness beside me. That I was not so very different from these stemmed ones in my desire to grow toward the light. Somehow, in that moment, I "woke up" to something golden and divine, something that can be felt more easily than explained, some kind of mysterious wakefulness.

Sometimes, when I cannot remember who I am, I spend time with plants. You see, as far as I can tell plants are sure about what they are, sure about their beauty, about their purpose, about their goal, which appears to be nothing other than simply BEING what they are. And I have always been a believer in learning by example.

I am convinced that dogs know about this too and so do trees and rivers and stars and mountains and all the four legged and feathered and gilled ones. It's just we two legged's that seem to have this habit of forgetting.

It's a good thing that there is a whole beautiful world out there, just waiting to remind us~

An Irresistible Urge~

Image by: Arthur Rackham

"There is a herb, also, a fairy grass, called the Faud Shaughran, or the "stray sod,"and whoever treads the path it grows on is compelled by an irresistible impulse to travel on without stopping, all through the night, delirious and restless, over bog and mountain,through hedges and ditches, till wearied and bruised and cut, his garments torn, his hands bleeding, he finds himself in the morning twenty or thirty miles, perhaps, from his own home. And those who fall under this strange influence have all the time the sensation of flying and are utterly unable to pause or turn back or change their career."

~ Lady Francesca Speranza Wilde ( 1826-1896)

I don't know about you, but this is just how I feel when spring knocks on my door. When that glorious sun of ours lights the sky for longer each day and everything is alive with possibility. Instantly I find myself in constant motion without a desire for stopping. I am out there digging and planting, plotting and planning. And once I have begun, there is simply no turning back.

Today,I am out of bed after a bothersom little flu, ready to feel the sun on my face and the wind in my hair. Too many days indoors is a challenging thing for me.

To celebrate feeling better I put my peas in the earth, 2 inches down, 1 inch apart, just like mom taught me all those years ago. The robins chirped and the crows cawed their approval from the trees over head.

Image by: Arthur Rackham

Let the gardening begin I say. For gardening is a another kind of journey, an adventure of the best kind, full of surprises and challenges and wonder. It doesn't matter how well you think you've planned it, you never really know how it's all going to turn out, but isn't that the way all adventures are? And this never stops us from going, or in this case from getting our hands dirty. No gardener worries about dirt under fingernails, or torn trousers, or sore arms. In fact all these things are evidence of a job well done and when the first salad is on the table, well, there is no question, that this is a venture, of the most worthy kind.

Petals in the Morning~

I am someone in constant awe of Plant Spirit Medicine. As my garden begins to bloom, I am preparing to gather the magical elixirs offered by my petaled friends. Making healing flower essences is one of my joys. My gratitude for the wisdom here reaches to the stars and back again.

Just today, I was outside with the first spring beauties, gazing upon their dazzling blooms, my heart stirring with enthusiasm at the thought of discovering their healing properties. Standing there in the spring sun, I remembered that Dr. Edward Bach first discovered the homeopathic healing essences of flowers by licking the dew accumulated on flower petals at dawn. I have heard it told that Dr. Bach was not the first one to do this marvelous thing. That ingesting the dew on flower petals was a tradition the wise woman of the old world were very much aware of. That sending their patients out into dewy meadows at dawn, to lick the dew drops off flower petals, was a known medicinal practice.

All this is to say, that if you have never bent down to lick the dew off a flower petal, I highly recommend it.

Spring Equinox~

Spring Equinox 2009, March 20th,

Sunrise 7:03 am Sunset 7:12 Pm.

They say that the Spring Equinox is the festival of balance and awakening and alchemy. The magikal re-birth of the earth. The mingling of sun and rain. The time when opposite forces merge together in a divine act of transformation. The Alchemists call this merging, Conjunctio, meaning higher transformative union of two unlike substances. Like flint struck against stone to make fire, like sun and rain reaching down into the earth inviting green shoots and pink blossoms. On the day of the Equinox, day and night are of equal length. The sun and the moon spend the same amount of time glowing in the sky. It is indeed, a magikal time.

Gus(best canine friend) and I have plans to walk to down to the sea, to light candles and burn lavender and sage. To set our intentions for the next cycle and give thanks for the bountiful blessings that surround us. I might sing to the earth and the sky before we dash wildly through the green woods celebrating the return of life. Later we will join a dear friend for more singing, a fine cup of tea and some delicious food.

Sending Spring Blessings to you~

May the most wonderful things be sprouting in your life.

Sing a Song~

One thing that I have learned about myself is that a good ol' heartfelt song always helps me to feel better about the world. No matter what the circumstance, there is always a song fit for the occasion. Always a melody rising up out of my own human experience ready to work it's healing magic.

I sing in sadness and in happiness. I sing when my heart is broken and when it is beating with joy. I sing because sometimes I simply don't know what else to do. I sing because I cannot help but sing.

I don't think that song is just for the musicians of the world. I think that song is for all human beings. Recently I went snow shoeing in the mountains for the first time, and when I asked a friend if she thought I would be able to snow shoe, she said "if you can walk you can snowshoe," and, well, I think a similar thing could be said about singing, that "if you can talk, you can sing."

On that note, a poem for your day~

Only If You Join Me

By St. Catherine of Siena (1347-1380)

One more song tonite, okay, but only

if you join me.

Once, when I was sad, I said to a kind old priest,

"Have you learned any secrets

to unburden the

heart?"

And he responded,

"Hum a favorite melody;

wine will always rise

to the top

of oil."