After discovering I'd been heading in the wrong direction with my life's work for the longest time, I was lost. I decided to write daily, without any preconception of what to write, in the hope it would become a map for me, revealing a path forward in real-time. I hope these little pieces of writing, are solace and support to anyone who is lost or flying on a trajectory they no longer want to be on.
10) Reverence
I walk to what I call the 'avenue' this morning. A row of Oaks beside a right of way up the hill. I have no idea how old they might be, some will be the offspring of others or the children of Oaks long lost or dead.
I'm drawn first to one I haven't sat with before. I find myself so moved. No words to describe it, no reasons why. Just a wave of gratitude that these remarkable beings exist at all, that I am so blessed by life that I can be with them, feed my senses and nourish my soul simply by standing in their presence. The only sound is the wind rushing through the leaves and the stately, husky 'cronk' of nearby Ravens.
I'm drawn to craft a rune at its roots, from pieces of broken branches and two gifted Buzzard feathers. I have long forgotten what the rune means and set any querying aside until I return home.
I do the same at the next Oak, then am called to a particular Oak whose roots create the perfect, mossy seat, with its great trunk supporting my back. I sit a while, marvelling at the way the strong breeze catches the leaves and charms the branches into a dance of ebbing and flowing waves.
My eyes are thirsty for the colours and fragmented, twisting, meandering shapes of nature, having spent too much time lately in human-made sharp-edged structures. I gaze upon the ancient script of the hedge branches, bright with scarlet berries.
I walk up further, collecting green acorns, a crow feather and a twig still crowned with Oak leaves and a tiny, empty acorn cup.
I stand at the gate to the next field, questioning and just checking in with my energy, to walk further or return to write? This is one of the ways I choose to love myself these days, to check in with each little, daily decision as to what feels most alive and vital for me.
Writing pulls me. My son is out and the house will be quiet, I will have half an hour or so to write.
As I walk down the hill, there is an instant something in me calls me to stop. I pause, hearing the sweet medley of songbirds who are beginning to sing again. I look ahead and I'm momentarily stunned into a perfect storm of silence and wonder. I cannot imagine anything, any place, any experience more intensely beautiful. I am transported directly to my soul self, at one and yet in awe of the landscape around me.
And something washes through me. A realisation. I'm not a coach, a therapist, a lover of people, a teacher, guide or educator. I'm a communicator, true enough, but a communicator of beauty, of spirit, of reverence. Maybe through writing, through art, I don't know. It comes to me that I am a priestess, most deeply in myself when I serve nature and communicate that service - not necessarily to humans.
My little mind immediately complains. You can't make a living from being a priestess!! And it nags at me about shamanism and a parade of memories about something or the other. Wonderful mind! Always looking to keep me safe. Always looking to help me shoehorn my expansiveness into a human, social, container. Always looking for patterns and connections to take me from my long-gone past into an imaginal future.
It's such a relief to see this though! I never truly wanted to be a coach/therapist! Although some wisdom inside, maybe my mentor's voice, cautions me to not discard anything. Everything is possible.
When I get home, I look up the rune I made at the foot of the first Oak. It is Ansuz, the Ash rune (how strange to place it at the base of an Oak). It seems to be the God rune, the primal sound ( like OM), the breath of life that created the Universe. It represents the Divine source present within us all. Some say it's connected to language and poetry, the expression of self.
I can think of no more appropriate rune for the experience.
11) Acorns
I indulge myself in a solitary walk in the still-warm Autumn sunshine.
I find myself with familiar Oaks, I make simple runes from old sticks at the base of those I'm drawn to, runes wishing fertility, sun and strength.
Drawn to a field further afar than I'm used to, I'm very near ecstatic to discover a footpath through an older wood, filled with Oaks.
I'm so overcome with an emotion I can't name, something poignant, melancholic and yet simultaneously uplifting and beatific.
I just feel so blessed, so grateful, so honoured to be near these trees, so privileged to occupy the same space as them. Each time I come upon an Oak I have not yet met, I feel as if I've located a new chapel, a place of worship, perfectly crafted to elicit awe and wonder.
I make my way home, picking my feet through voracious brambles and fading nettles, over the deep leaf litter from last year, until I come to one of the older Oaks who presides over a more open landscape.
Sitting a while under the sunlit canopy, I let myself be infused with the chiming, lyrical song of the Robins who inhabit this place. Like tiny, glass bells their poetic expression resonates, again, with something sweet inside me.
During my ambling journey, many thoughts have drifted through my mind. Some specifically about yesterday's realisation about how I want to express myself in the world. Priestess I'd said, and laughed internally at my own audacity.
My mind wants to look up and research books, courses, and groups and yet for each option my intellect finds, another part of me resists or writes off.
Under the swaying branches and fluttering leaves, it occurs to me I have long seen myself as an acorn, something not yet come into fruition, just a magical blueprint of pure potential.
The fact is I'm already an Oak - like it or not! No longer young, inexperienced or naive, I hold knowledge, wisdom and experience of life's rich textures, of being a daughter, sister, friend, partner, mother and grandmother. Of the birth and death of people, animals, places, projects and loves. Of thousands of sunrises, sunsets, stars, winters and tides. It's all fully formed in me.
No longer an acorn but having the capacity to create a mast year of acorns, the capability and ability to create, share and propagate as many acorns as I have energy for.
And, as I hold that insight like a precious spark somewhere within, a peaceful knowing washes over me that there's no seeking to be done and to let the Universe send to me what I need.
Because as I sit in the company of this aged, venerable Oak tree, I see the same as they, that everything I could ever need already exists in the formless potential all around us and I only have to open myself to its resonant vibration to receive it.
I return home, satisfied there is nothing yet for me to do. I will be shown.
The previous installment in this series can be found here:
Oh Kate, there's so much here! I love it. This really struck me: "This is one of the ways I choose to love myself these days, to check in with each little, daily decision as to what feels most alive and vital for me." I've been doing something similar, but never saw it as self-love, but it is! Thanks for pointing in that direction. I resonate with much of what you say here, but am going to let it all wash over me, rather than parse it to pieces. It feels like I would be breaking a magic spell to do that. As always, looking forward to the next! xoxo