connection · resilient · Trees

Safe Place

Surrounded, cloaked in decaying matter. Fresh smells of moist, decomposing life. The split center of a giant hickory. The trunk, cracked wide open in invitation, welcoming me home once again. Allowing. Allowing me in, like a generous neighbor, availing it’s wisdom. Without an entrance fee. Because I exist. I enter. Stepping out of my muted, insignificant existence, into this earthly goodness. The slow, methodical, rhythmic heartbeat of the earth echoes in the fresh rot. My exhales slowing to meet the offering.

Mother, I am home. I remove my coat and hang it on the rack. At the base of this Hickory, soft green Cedar fronds, border the huge Hickory in a semi-circle – concealing this sacred world from outsiders. Surely a magical thing. I shine brightly here in this dimly lit ins-tree-tution. I shine brighter. My secret safe palace, holding me sacred. I play. Alone, at peace. At once. Secluded from the jagged edges of life and dreaded doom. Stuffing myself into it’s humid warmth. All is lost in the wind circling, swirling.

Oh the cleansing wind. Blowing fantasy fulfillment. Take away everything, everybody. Dispose of them, I won’t mind. Discharging my death-wish fantasies into the open palms of these two grounded lovelies. Into these trees. Make it happen – I whisper. The howling winds, snow, rain, hail – experienced only as sound and sights. Destruction cannot touch me. I am only an observer. For once. I hunker into the safety of this energetic earth shield.

Hickory and Cedar, the finest bouncers, guard the entry like a rabid wolverine. I am grateful, if just for a moment. I am filled with wonder. What small creatures have also found solace here? I can’t be the only one… Under the watchful eye of Wise Woman. Mother Earth oversees this changing landscape, recording my fears, wonder, cries, rants, whispers. She never tells. She, for sure, can be trusted to hold and transmute all that ails. Offering me anonymity as I unload my bags. A long held fantasy, sleeping in here, energetically bathed in her light and love, protected, invincible. I will never leave.

I emerge so much more. Grown under the watchful eye of the elders.

Trees

In love #8

I’m in love with Shagbark Hickory trees. I see myself in their rough, hanging, falling pieces. Not ready for discard, yet falling nonetheless. Some strips falling and decomposing quickly, surrendering their riches to fertilize the hungry earth. Some bark hanging on longer, still with something to say, remaining vertical and visible until their voices are no longer heard by the forest.

Large long pieces, small, thick pieces stacked neatly, supporting their fellow Shagmates. Strips of wrinkled, worn roughness. Mazes of texture giving way to a newer, smoother, Auburn skin. Underneath. Beautiful colors beneath the Shagbark’s discards. Shaggy rough, scattered, haggard, unfinished, jagged, worn and edgy yet standing tall. Proudly facing the sun. Standing, reaping precipitation benefits. Reaching above it all, into the clarity, in the space we all seek, the space between our breath. Fresh oxygen lives above.

Shagbark gripping the earth below, grounding wide and deep. Solid. Fingers and toes long n scraggly, twisting and turning in the silent light and dark. Seeking, still, layers of life and death intermingling. Nutrients for the taking, earth’s gifts used and returned. Shedding pieces of our story, revealing a less burdened smoother version of ourselves ready for the next season of life.

Celebrate · gratitude · Joy · Thrive · Trees

My Lovely Guardsmen

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Standing tall

Strong

Bent and backwards

Crippled and crazy

On call

On duty

Allowing

Accepting

Witness to new births, transformation, death, disease, medicine and miracles

Secrets kept

their skin, bones, beauty, youth, wisdom

Taken, given, surrendered

No grudges

Cycling through growth, dormancy, maturity

Even re-birth

Showing colors and cyclical wisdom

Tree medicine

Bleeding nutrients, the sweetest confection offered

Delighting the palate

Window closing

weather warming

Spring looming, buds popping

We honor your life

Appreciate the liquid, solids and chips

The medicine, sweetness, shade and beauty

In partnership

Thank You 💚

abuse · anxiety · anyways · awareness · Celebrate · challenge · childhood · Comfort · connection · fun · gratitude · healing · Holiday · human condition · Human Spirit · intention · Joy · light in the darkness · Manifest · Moving On · need · old patterns · persevere · Play · Satisfied · self love · self talk · survival · Thoughts · Trees · triggers · Universe

How To Survive (The Family) Holidays – 13 Joyful Hacks

 

So, the Holidays, hmmmmm. I’m guessing that some of my readers may be very excited for Holidays. I am also knowing that there’s a whole other section of the general pop who are digging themselves a large hole, preparing to jump in to escape all things “family celebration”. Continue reading “How To Survive (The Family) Holidays – 13 Joyful Hacks”

abuse · anyways · awareness · Celebrate · challenge · Change · childhood · Comfort · connection · fun · gratitude · healing · healthy · heart · Human Spirit · inner work · Joy · Moving On · persevere · Play · Reframe · Satisfied · self love · soul · Spirit Guides · survival · trauma · Trees · Universe

As A Tree, I Heal

cb0423de-adcc-4758-9c81-0daa5c1dada8.jpegI believe in the magic of trees. I can be found touching, smelling and cozying up to trees. They’re all so welcoming, fragrant, protective and accepting of love from us. My ancient friends on my land, lovingly offer their sap which I respectfully process into delicious syrup. Bark, of the Shag-bark tree also creates a delectable syrup. Elderberry, Linden, Maples, Oaks, Willow… Oh, my momma Willow. How I honor thee. I would say one of the most disappointing events I witnessed this year involved my 100+ yr old Willows. Continue reading “As A Tree, I Heal”