Listening is good, but taking action based on what you’ve been told is even more important.
Thinking about that lesson on all kinds of levels. And marveling at what can start happening through this practice. We’ve been relating to the spirits of this home in a new way and wow! The old roses that haven’t put out a bloom in the 9 1/2 years we’ve lived here have branches covered in fragrant, deep red flowers all of a sudden today!
There’s a lot of noise in western culture, and I’m feeling even more encouraged to listen deeply to what’s under the words, to dig into the histories, root out my own biases... reminding myself to stay curious and flexible, and do the things that have asked to be done.
Our class, Becoming Medicine for the Earth is now live! The link to more information can be found in the bio of @deliciousginger , my sister in this work. We are so excited that the time has come to bring forth this offering, and can hardly wait to see who else will circle up with us!!
The 25th of this month was the 300th day in a row that I’ve made my way out to visit water, most often larger bodies of water, but sometimes weather, too. There has been so much to notice... the relief of rain after a long dry stretch... feeling the winter’s first ice on the sidewalk... seagulls bathing in a flooded park... amazing clouds... listening to the sea in the dark... the seasonal migration of people and birds... so much to be curious about...
Day 265 visiting water. So many changes these last couple weeks here... praise to the first ice edged puddles and sparkling snow. Praise to the buffleheads as they return to the shelter of the bay. And marveling at the simple, yet deeply stirring gifts that have come from showing up.
I’ve been doing my best to retreat from social media for a time, as I was starting to feel like I was being pulled out of myself. It’s been lovely and strange to let my heart rest, and I miss knowing things friends have shared. But I'm finding that it makes me want to reach out directly, and actually spend time together.
When I was 10 we started meeting, and a few months later moved to, a mysterious little white house which had a trap door in the living room, and a wide, gray, sandy beach almost as a front yard. Maybe the first time I walked on that wet, cold sand, we came upon a jellyfish, red like strawberry preserves, that had drifted ashore. I had never met a jellyfish, and this one was amazing to me... impossible... like fireworks. Looking at them didn’t make it any easier to see what they were all about...
I still feel that way about these incredible people who float in the sea. And I so rarely see them here.
Today is my 111th day visiting the water. I was dragging my feet... no one wanted to come with me... I was trying to decide about going out to do something that had sounded really good at 6:30 this morning... and a thick fog was rolling in.
But here I am. At what’s becoming one of the most important parts of my day. And so very glad.
Practicing mother, weedwife, animist, human, who's very thankful to live on the coastal plain of Southern Maine, in Wabanaki terretory, near a place called Owascoag.