get out

i'm a tree girl. always have been, always will be.
photo by D. Bach


A healing friend of mine always tells me, and anyone who will listen:

GO SPEND TIME IN NATURE.

And I never really got it ~ I knew that nature was beautiful, but I didn't get from an energy level why I needed to, and why everyone on this planet needs to do it.

Sitting by the lake a few weeks ago on an artists date, eating ice creams with my friend Bek, I realised that when I'm out in nature, the bullshit flies away.

As simple and as beautiful as that.

When I close my eyes, and the wind brushes over my face, and my toes are sinking into the dust,

things just don't seem to matter anymore.

All that is is the breeze, and the earth, and the stillness inside me.

The woman who doesn't know, who feels tangled in energy and caught in concerns - she is gone, back there somewhere at the house. The Woman Who Knows remains there. She Knows she is a part of the earth, she knows to breathe is enough, and she knows the concerns are only a dream, a fragrant of the mind. Inside there is a sweeping desert, a swelling ocean, the undulating forest strewn mountains, the rises and falls of landscape sinking in and up with breath.

So out there I find myself.

On the little patch of bare earth in my backyard, the grass already yellowed by summer.
By the lake, with a friend.

In nature, truth slips in, and I am reminded that there is enough love for us all. That nature holds all the healing we need. That the Woman Who Knows is just out there, sitting in the dust, smiling at the wind.

And all I need to do is get out.


lush link discoveries
~ love this dailyom article on little things for wellness (maybe the little things are the big things)
~ how to make journals by teesha moore
~ the glorious art, photos and sharings of judy wise
~ stories of a vancouver doula
~ The amazing story of Meta's transition (via the gorgeous Kelly Rae)

perfect

page from my delish new journal


playing the perfect game from dancing mermaid's new blog (so glad you're sharing your online voice/art/miracles, honey!)


perfect concert:

Three metres from a shining goddess illuminating the stage. She wore a shimmering silver dragon that swam over her belly, and her voice was cosmic.
Her name was Sarah McLachlan.

perfect story:

The one where she falls in love with herself.

perfect movie:

The Shawshank Redemption. I'm not sure why, but it has something to do with the tunnelling and the tree and the buried box.

perfect food:

Noodles from a stall in the street in Asia.

perfect find:

Feathers, or today's MIRACLE find was a heart shaped rock on the street.

perfect gift:

Giving someone your favourite childrens book.

perfect song:

"Unwritten" by Natasha Bedingfield

These lyrics are just so perfect:

"Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips"

perfect sound:

Rain on the roof.

perfect color:

The colour of the sky on any old day.
Vibrant stinging blue, soft azure, the light of clouds, the gentle breast of grey in the swaying rain...

perfect spot:

The little mole on my belly button I have lovingly named Tiny Tim.

perfect line:

Yes I will stand with you, laugh with you, grow with you, jump with you, run with you, fumble with you, understand you, acknowledge you, honour you, because I love you, myself.

perfect place:

That blissful piece of heaven wedged between soil and sky (Mama Earth). Of particular interest to me at the moment is a wee patch of Earth called India. Oh dreamy monsoons, I am heat fevered for you.

perfect time:

The moment. (When I can remember I'm in it!)



What's your perfect?

rain on

my love welcoming in the new year

A little more than a week ago we celebrated summer solstice on a sand island in the shallow river of the Murrumbidgee.

As part of our summer solstice service, we connected with the hearts and minds of women manifesting rain, a movement which started in Victoria in an effort to end the rain.

Large tracts of Australia is in drought, and the state of Victoria suffered from some large bushfires a couple of weeks ago. So much attention was placed on the dry and the fires that we were attracting that which we didn't desire. Womens circles across the state, over Australia and around the world were asked instead to manifest rain, to imagine gentle soaking rain to fall for a week to quench the thirst of mama Earth.

In our circle, we visualised the drenching rains, filling our spirits with grey clouds lumbering across the sky, soaking us with her plentiful abundance.

As we spoke to the sky, asking it to rain, I voiced the words:

May the rains fall so this river fills, and the sand island we are on be reclaimed by the water again.

We raised our hands, eyes closed, feeling the gentle drum of rain coming inside us, delighting in the small light drops which fell lightly on us as we spoke. They were as gentle as a kiss, as light as a whisper, so soft we had to ask each other at the end: did you feel it too?



Over the New Year weekend the storms came, the clouds ranged over the mountains. Hail fell leaving our background to be smattered with white globes. And the rain fell.

Yesterday, I went for a walk with my lover.

This is the river a week later.



In the middle of the water in the photo was where our sand island at circle was. The beach where we watched a boy play with his dog was gone. The small waterfalls that we explored in bare feet was now part of the swelling mass of rain water surging through the trees.

It was the most perfect new years surprise of all.

We stood by the rocks for a while, smiling at all that water.

More needs to fall, but for now, let us savour the moment of the rain.



We walked along the sides of the riverbank for a while, breathing in the sweet scents of damp Australian bush, delighting in the wombat holes and the soft moss on the rocks.
A gum stripped of old bark captured our attention, and we knelt in the damp soil so I could capture that perfect time in my new journal.



This was the best way to welcome in the new year ~
with arms wide open to the rain.


love,
Leonie