A creative attempt to summarize/record my, month-long, participation in this remarkable project.
My original, published, ‘cool’ captions and inspiring ‘Earth quotes’ became lost to the ether when I chose to delete my Facebook account…..which is just as well….as with hindsight it seems I was not really listening…..some of my posts where only text and gone forever now ….but this is all the visual work I shared with the group….cobbled together, chronologically, and with new meaning.
It all began with Nuts.
Those prefectly designed, well travelled, nuggets of both nutrition and potential.
(Reminded now, also. in hindsight, of an Egyptian Nut.
Daughter of vital breath and heat, a star-covered naked woman, bowed over the Earth,
With her head in the West and her feet in the East. A bridge between the Earth and the Sky.)
I wondered how this ‘tree’ would grow from there…..
The endangered red squirrel became my constant companion on this journey.
And, as always here, the Wind.
Winter Hawthorn showed me her sharp, protective, thorns…..
The Beech hedge whispered ‘Sssssh…..ssssh’……
Mole spoke to me of staying buzy, but remaining underground, unseen…..
Mosses demonstrated how to cling on and thrive, on only cold, ungiving, stone……
But I was not really listening …….
And worms writhed in the compost heap of my mind, giving birth to strange new, artifical, creatures….
I have a well-weathered head.
Colonized now by Nature.
Worn away by Time.
Still able, though, to see those ‘Spots of Light’ and bask in their Radiance.
Celebrate their Beauty.
That is, until I see when I venture out, again and again, our trashing of everything Sacred …
And I am returned to Grieving.
Yet, I was reminded, in that Darkness, there is always Light.
You only have to find new ways of Seeing.
It is Imbolc.
A time of Rebirth. Of Future. A Time of New Beginnings and Returning Light.
Humble Snowdrops blaze a fanfare.
Spring is on its way.
The soil gives way to green, urgent, spears of New Life, pushing up toward the Sun.
Even, inside our winter home, the houseplants put on a show of wondrous, exotic, blooms.
Out walking I was shown something weird, almost alien, something that I had never encountered before.
Earth spoke to me again of all the unseen wonders that she holds.
That Living can only ever be learning.
I cracked open my first rotten egg in a long, long time.
The smell was of Sulphur.
I learned that Humans create more Sulphur now than is released by all the Earth’s volcanos put together.
So Humans smell, to the Earth, of Sulphur too.
A smell associated with Decay.
And the breaking open of her Crust.
Then we were invited to dig deep and find our authentic Howl.
Always a tough one.
It turned out my Howl is, and has always been, my felt Impotence in affecting any real Change
Through what I am able to do, through my own unique gifts.
Earth told me it was OK to share, again, some work I have already done.
For it is Work that has not lost Value through Age.
Just as I have not lost Value.
Work created when I first began to Give the Earth a Voice online.
(Though, at that time, I thought I was Alone in doing so.)
Sharing this Work, reminded me that I have been Standing here a long, long Time already.
And brought home how committed I am to doing it still.
Rarely witnessed and, in the main, uncelebrated.
As undeserving of applause as a weed in a lawn.
A rock, the moss or a twisted tree.
A sea squirt.
Or a hooded crow.
This is not a show.
A creature of magik and alchemy.
Who no longer needs to shout out “I am here!”
Because, in the course of this experiment, the only One who really matters told me that:
She Loves me,
that She is Sorry,
that She Forgives me
and is Grateful for all that I do.
And when I heard that back….
I just Let Go.
I AM HOME
and that is where you’ll always find me.
Kat Robertson. Standing As Earth. Imbolc 2021
I am staring at this screen.
How to condense the Experience?
The above barely scratches the surface.
Now only recorded in pages and pages and pages and pages and pages
of messy, scrawled notes, avid, crazed, chanelled, journalling …processing …..too much to edit.
And this trail of shared artworks.
I have deleted my Facebook account.
Deleted all social media accounts.
I am too much to edit.
It was Earth that called me to withdraw from all that fight to be seen.
The fight to feel heard.
While I celebrate all who are able to continue this work of being visible online.
Who have those skills.
I have become exhausted from trying to find new ways to say such a simple thing.
There simply are no words left in my limited vocabulary.
I can tell you how I felt when I first saw the online invitation.
YES! YES! What a brilliantly simple idea!
Let’s ALL Stand AS Earth.
Earth, my true Nature, guides me now to simply write of the WEATHER during this month long experiment #standingasearth on Facebook.
The Weather of Standing As Earth
It began with a, freezing, Siberian Wind that howled from the East.
Screaming over vast, populated, landmasses,
Carrying all that stale air,
To meet the ocean
All the way from China, it came hurtling through, at tree-breaking ,wave-hurling, speed,
Onward over the Atlantic, toward the East Coast of the Americas.
It was hard, sometimes, to Breathe.
The Land became hard too, as iron.
It’s Life Blood frozen.
Impermanent diamonds grew in the Mud.
And the Trees grew hair of Ice.
Until the very Dryness turned it all to Dust.
Dust that came Alive, like dervishes, like dancers,
Rising, with the gusting wind, up from the Ground.
Gritty in my eyes.
Making me Cry.
And then it Snowed.
And all became Still and Silent.
And all became Clear and Sharply defined.
Blueish and Breathtaking.
The Light alone, a sensory orgasm.
And then, it all, inevitably,
The winds have never stopped blowing.
They are blowing still.
They have just swung around a bit and radically changed direction.
I found I had been blown off course.
I found myself, full circle, called back into the Mystery.
I found I was, already, HOME.
Kat Robertson. Standing As Earth. Imbolc 2021
My last post on Facebook, after realising I felt I had shared way too much, and deleting my account, was this.
It hangs on the wall of my ‘artden’.
And, while not my own words, says all I really have left to say of any worth.
My continued prayer is only that more of us will find this Truth and try their very best to LIVE BY IT.
And each find their own ,unique, Balance.
(N.B. I have only just realised that when a person deletes their Facebook account, they disappear, also, from all groups. As if they had never been there at all. I experience a deep sadness about that, as I fell in Love, with new brothers and sisters, and Earth, over and over again, during this month of participation …….. despite not joining in on Zoom! Now guided just to rest in the Knowing that we are, all connected, through the Forest floor. )
I was invited to join a visionboard group.
The idea being to create a visionboard for 2021.
It triggered some deep thinking.
Not really sure what I want exactly.
More about what I do not want!
Haunted by the word ‘less’……
Then I dumped all the, pages and pages, of journalling and automatic responses and just let it flow, as a digital collage.
Not something I have tried before.
Grabbing images from the internet and building them up using photoshop….
Key words for this were BIRTH, GROWTH and COSMOS.
A member of the group commented “A lovely image for Christmas. Especially these days when Earth Consciousness needs to be reborn. I love the ‘digital’ pun.”
I did not think about the Christmas angle…..hope the pun he also sees is the cosmic, super nova, vagina and human doulas idea!
I decided to title it ‘Co-creation’ after that…
(Note: I know I have used other artist’s work uncredited here….not something I do as a rule….but I hope they will forgive me, just this once, as the process was fast, intuitive and fluid…and it would take me hours to unwind it and credit all the talented photographers and artists that got woven into this piece! It was ‘flashed ‘on Facebook, but I do not intend using it anywhere else. So “Thank You!” is all I can say….)
Oh and they are all doing another round, so please visit ‘Create 2021 Visionboard Challenge‘ on Facebook if you fancy a having a go yourself!
I pushed the curtains back as I closed the bedroom window.
There was snail on the ceiling!
We live in a two storey building, this was on the top floor
I tugged the snail off the plaster, intending to return it to the garden.
The shell was dry and empty.
Just a beautiful shell, still ‘stuck’ to the ceiling.
I wonder what possessed this little creature.
To climb higher and higher.
Further away from the lush, dewy, green below.
Wonder at it’s epic, futile, journey to ‘the top’.
At how it crept, into the dry, heated, air of the house, through the open window, and just stopped there.
Hanging, improbably, upside-down.
At those last days. Spent in absolute stillness.
Just, slowly, drying out.
I wonder at how there is no part of it’s soft body left.
Nothing at all.
Just a clean, hard, spiralling, empty shell for me to find.
An object, if made by an artist, I would marvel at in a gallery.
This little snail’s legacy.
Kat Robertson. October 2020
Most know that I prefer natives,
but what child can resist giant sunflowers.
Gifted some seed, up they shot.
Charging for the sun.
One was the tallest I have ever grown.
But this pride came before a fall.
As late summer gales began to blow.
I watched, through the window, as it swung wildly.
So I staked it.
I thought I was helping.
But the gusts beheaded it.
Right at the tie.
If I had left it alone, given it the freedom to move with the wind,
I think it would have survived.
So often this is the case.
We think we are helping, but all we are really doing is curbing her responsive wildness,
Weeding out her repairs, re-routing her rivers, deciding what we think is best for her.
When will we ever learn?
I put the tight, architectural, bud in a vase.
Blow me! It still fought to flower, to thrive.
I cheered it on.
Turning the bloom to face the sun when it came out.
But to no avail.
Eventually it gave up.
And drew back in.
Disconnected from the Mother, it shrivelled and died.
No future. No seed. Without soil.
Meanwhile, out in the garden, the others survived more storms.
With no support from me.
Such autumnal JOY!
Most interesting to note was how the same seed, the same pot grown seedlings, when planted else where, grew in proportion to the pot/conditions available.
Would that we would learn to do the same!
Daydreaming of Giant country folk and Lillipution city dwellers.
Remembering those wee, hardy, land carved, Picts with the, famously, tiny doors…..
Our western children, statisically, are all growing bigger and taller.
More of them too.
Growing like those other plants, artifically reared, under perfect lights with perfect food.
At what cost??
Cannot help but see the whole of humanity in this tall sunflower’s teaching.
Disconnected from Mother we will not thrive indefinitely.
Artficially nourished, all growing too big for the space we are afforded, taking from elsewhere, we grow out of balance with all that sustains us.
When will we ever learn?
(An alternative version of my experience, of the Gaia Hut’s first outing.)
‘Sycamore’, ‘knapweed’, ‘meadow sweet’, ‘larch’,
Noticing so many affected. Ash die-back. The Tree of Life. Dying back…..
‘hazel’, ‘common reed’, ‘rowan’, ’hello Heron!’
I recited their names, on my daily commute, bowing in apology for my polluting motion, as I passed.
‘alder’, ‘birch’, ‘hawthorn’,
(‘what is that purple one shining so now?’)
‘beech’, ‘elder’, ‘horse chestnut’,
‘hawkbit’, ‘ragwort’ and so on,
I’d nod to them as I drove past, stopping, sometimes,
to breathe, to pick glorious seed heads for my little venue’s vase.
A single, gale-surviving, garden, sunflower nodded back at me when I entered the village, and was always turned to face me when I left.
I loved its sunny welcome and farewell.
(I’d lost my tallest sunflower in the wild winds of the week.
I’d tried to help it by tying it to a stake.
It’s head had snapped at that tie. When will I ever learn?
A lesson in there somewhere.)
More alders. Seeing alders everywhere here.
A local wise-woman taught me that Ardfern, translated, is Aird Fheàrna in Gaelic, land of the alder trees.
I thought of how they ‘bleed’ when I harvest the bark for my pigment.
And laughed at myself when I thought of my, grown-from-seed, seedlings at home, when they were everywhere here, to transplant, so close to our hill.
Whoo Hoo! Whoo Hoo!
The wood pigeons were always calling as I arrived to open up.
‘Whoo-Hoo!’ I felt inside, as I sipped my fresh, meadowsweet, tea.
We do not have many of those on the hill. Wood pigeons.
The neighbours, clean-lined, zen-garden, trickled water all day.
I did not always use the toilet in the house, twice I squatted behind the trailer, in a weedy corner, among the docks and red campion.
Unseen, under the ash trees.
Marking my spot, for the village dogs and cats.
My host, and dear freind’s, old setter was fading.
He lost the use of his back legs during our exhibition.
My freind coped amazingly.
I knew he was near the end, but could not share it,
with the family keeping such Hope alive.
So moving to spend Time with him
and bear witness to the family’s Love for their dear companion.
I caught myself dancing when the wind whirled.
The weather made me ‘dance’ around the Hut often.
Fixing shelter. Taking it down. Opening up and Closing up. Lighting the fire and letting it go out.
The gravel felt hard underfoot, but I’d think of the reflexology I was getting and smile.
I was often fascinated by a tree, I called the ‘starling tree’, against the sky and how, silhouetted, the birds became leaves, until they flew away.
Noisy leaves. So full of chatter.
We don’t see starlings on our hill either.
There was a stone.
My guardian stone.
In the edge of the flower border, who kept me company during this event.
It had two faces. One that smiled when the sun came out, another that looked grumpy in the rain.
It spoke to me of the tragedy and comedy of it all.
Of the hypocrisy.
I painted its two faces, as a hanging slate, slate with a hole in it, I had found in their garden, as gift for the family.
The children were delighted to meet him.
And to know that he lived in their garden.
Such beauty in this garden. Such Love.
Huge sunflowers, a stunning, single, artichoke, dahlias, Californian poppies, geraniums, buddleia, brassica flowers, sweet peas, tomatoes, leeks, wild greens, kale and more.
All thriving in this small, sheltered patch.
Chickens clucked under the Lime.
Cabbage white butterflies danced in the air, when the sun came out.
I really noticed though, the lack of other butterflies this year. At home and here too. More on the brassicas than the verbena or buddleia.
More gifts for their garden arrived during our event, transplanted ferns and more trees.
Huge paper birch, red cherry and mountain ash.
An over-buy from a neighbour of hers.
They did not want them to die when they went away again for a while.
They had no Time to plant them.
I collected some flowers from the bountiful garden, always asking permission, for my flower press.
Something to remember this Time by, this colour, when I use them, later, in winter, to make something new.
I joked that I was their garden gnome for the duration.
A friend joined me, barefoot, for a while.
I taught her how to twist the rushes, she showed me new ‘hearts’ in the gravel.
They reminded us both of a mutual, dear friend, who had passed.
She told us tales of Africa and gifted me a twisted, willow, heart, now part of the Gaia Hut.
I popped in to visit another friend, while I was in the village, and came home with laden with bags of ‘surplus’ collected seaweed, that I laid out in the rain, to wash the salt off, touching ocean, before laying it on my autumn-prepared patch to rot down over winter and feed the soil. The best kind of gift!
On the last day I was given a potted rose by one friend and a bottle of Cava by another.
I felt like a queen, or a graduate, as I bore these home.
Overwhelmed with Gratitude.
The purple one was ‘loosestrife’.
Amazing how in looking all these years I had never met this one before!
Always so much to learn.
No, it told me, you are not losing it.
You are loosening it.
Kat Robertson. August 2020.
As the dust settles and we all get into the rhythm of our new, virus dominated, ‘lock down’ I find some clarity arising.
A clarity that, in fact, I do not welcome.
A clarity of such devastating proportions that all who are unfamiliar with holding ideas of death and dying, unused to the realms of creation and destruction, might do well to avoid reading.
To those readers I would say, “Look away now.”
But I am driven to share this.
This is my ‘rolling om’.
A space dedicated to my own freedom of expression.
Here I do not ask for others permission to express my hopes, or my fears.
I can only pray I am wrong in all discussed below and that this is simply the paranoid delusions, imaginings, of a tired, menopausal, hippy.
These words rushed to meet the reading of this article below.
“We are intimately interconnected with nature, whether we like it or not. If we don’t take care of nature, we can’t take care of ourselves. And as we hurtle towards a population of 10 billion people on this planet, we need to go into this future armed with nature as our strongest ally.”
Only one thing wrong with this article.
WE ARE NATURE.
Allow this in. There is no separation.
We are all as much part of this revolving, ever re-balancing, Gaian wonder as a rhino, a primrose or a tick.
All the man-made artifice we surround ourselves with is, at source, derived from Nature.
And Nature abhors a void.
Whether that void is filled with brimming Life or chaotic, death bringing plague, is entirely up to how we all behave as part of the WHOLE.
The greatest threat to this balance right now is not this virus, the meat markets, the destructive food production, the water and air polluting manufacture, our dependence on fossil fuels….(although all these behaviours urgently need addressing)….it is the development and ongoing installation of 5G.
While all our hearts and minds are focused on this present threat, this pandemic, we are not watching, not ‘keeping our eyes on the ball’.
For this new technology is not ‘merely’ scratching on the surface of this enormous, ever-accommodating planet…the mistreatment of Life on Earth….this is a new type of pollution….pollution of the entire atmosphere surrounding us all.
This is the point in Time were ‘we’ are risking the imbalance of the entire, natural, balancing, mechanism.
The electromagnetic frequencies (EMF’s) that we use to measure Life itself.
So far we have merely dabbled in this kind of interference.
What is currently proposed is a FLOOD.
We ARE all interconnected.
In scientific terms, the living earth’s network, of electrical pulses, are the basis of all natural communication.
The indigenous peoples frame this differently.
They see us all as children of Our Mother.
They have always been aware that our every action has consequences within the whole.
I appreciate much work has been done in medicinal fields, but ALL research has been focused on the effects on HUMANS….not on the rest of Life…..a ‘rest of Life’ that we are entirely dependent upon…..a part of.
‘When we examine biological currents, such as nerve/muscle activity, cardiac discharge, and brain electrical activity using electromyography, electrocardiography, or electroencephalography, respectively, one cannot help but speculate as to the nature of the intelligence being carried by the weak EMFs being created.’
‘….the possibility of paradoxical responses, that is, how electromagnetic radiation can be both very good and/or very bad for us’
All I ‘see’ as I read, are the warnings on the side of many of these machines, the protective screens, the lead jackets……
I clearly see a correlation with the staged ‘switching on’ of 5G and the, virus related, ‘lock-down’ and ‘lifting of’ measures. The apparent need for us all to be ‘inside’, perhaps even for our own ‘protection’.
The possibility that this virus was even, purposefully introduced, in time with the testing of this new technology.
This independent, critical, thinking only encouraged by the absolute omission of open discussion, on this topic, by the mainstream media. Encouraged too by the ominous resonance of martial law and the enforced curtailing of our freedoms.
By how, now, when one raises ones voice concerning the real, potential, dangers of 5G, one becomes ‘lumped’ in with dangerous virus deniers and conspirators and labelled as ‘fake news’.
I cannot help but wonder if this is intentional?
Effectively silencing any concerns.
Most of us are now aware that information is collected and controlled to a level we have never before witnessed in our human history.
‘We are in an existential crisis here, folks, the likes of which human kind has never seen…this is something that is unprecedented, the putting of a 100,000 satellites in the very ‘blanket’ of the Earth…….’
Dr Thomas Cowan
I find it difficult to contemplate the arrogance of those who would strive to perform such an experiment, on our whole planet, essentially, it seems, for only profit.
Us, mere mortals, can only pray that the paradoxical response of the Earth will be able to accommodate this extraordinary, mad scientist, scheme.
Trust that these, unregulated, digital moguls are aware of what they now do. Of what they are responsible for.
That this experiment, (all being Nature), is being carried out for the greater good.
That, perhaps, this drastic action is what is now needed to bring us all into a higher frequency.
That, perhaps, our, digitally addicted, youth will be more resilient and immune to this ‘evolution’……
The positive effects, for the planet, of this lockdown are clear.
Reduced pollution. Renewed awareness of our human fragility and inter- dependence. A resurgence of Love as a ‘counter-virus’.
And, dare I say it, reduced population, although, as I now understand, even this is debatable.
But I fear this will be a temporary state of affairs as immunity is won and the economic wheels begin , again, to turn and global ‘switch on’ commences.
On the radio yesterday, I heard a scientist explaining that ‘from the point of view of a photon all Time stands still’
(This would tie in with the vivid dream I experienced, as described in previous, rambling, connective, experimental, post.)
I believe LIGHT carries more information than we yet know.
I believe this ‘experiment’ with EMF’s to be a ‘premature ejaculation’ in our human ambition to communicate globally.
That it IS possible, just not this way and that this could even lead to the infertility of all species…
In imagining the moment of ‘switch on’ I ‘saw’ a bright flash…..
Well, that would be one way of communicating with the rest of the universe that once upon a time, in this position in space, there was a beautiful, living, planet called Earth.
And we all become, again, stardust.
I suspect, though, it will be a more drawn out process of extended sickness and mental dis-ease than that.
A prospect that fills my soul with deep grief and sadness. For all of humanity, for all of our children, for all Life on Earth.
I find myself, on my knees, begging for forgiveness and loosing myself in LOVE and GRATITUDE for all that still IS.
Working only to remain positive and also to remember.
Happy that I still do not own or use a SMART phone.
(I have also turned off our router’s 5G capability and put it in a makeshift Faraday cage, but pretty sure such measures provide little protection, as the frequencies will come from the towers….and space.)
Curiously also becoming very aware of the metal in my own body.
The heavy iron in our water, my mercury fillings and the titanium clips that remain inside me, clamping my Fallopian tubes shut.
My only relief from these thoughts to be found by, literally, dissolving into our garden, helping others navigate the present situation, and making Time to lose all thinking, in meditations and creative projects.
Struggling to believe that any of this will save us, but working on this belief just the same.
I experience feelings of bravery in sharing this uncharacteristic post.
And this will be the last post (forgive the pun!) of this nature.
The next will be resuming ‘business as usual’ on this blog.
A simple, creative, experimental, personal project sharing only my deep love and celebration of the natural world immediately around me and my intimate relationship with that.
In images and the occasional, poetic, burst of well-chosen words.
(NOTE: this blog post is subject to tweaks as I ‘ride these rapids’ of information!)
So here we are.
I had predicted, even hoped for, some kind of natural wake-up call for the planet, but I had never really thought I would live to experience a viral pandemic.
A pandemic of sci-fi proportions by measure of the media frenzy and the government measures imposed!
I was not prepared for this.
Although it seems so obvious now.
I lie awake each morning, with every new day inspiring, and the media triggering, so many responses.
So many philosophical perspectives. Changing with the days.
Sometimes The Fear.
But often optimism and intense revelations.
I should like to call it the virus.
To take away it’s crown.
It is after all, just another virus. That is all.
It’s massive effects on our present human colonies cannot be downplayed, but I am not sure it deserves a crown!
(I do see though, in it’s form, the reasons why they named it so.)
Like so many other humans on this planet I am having such an intense journey with this unfolding pandemic and it is this that screams to be expressed.
The only way I can see how to do this is to just sit down and let the words pour out.
To be later edited and wrangled into some sort of form.
I am realizing now that it all began for me with a vision in at the end of January.
I became unusually haunted by a pattern of sorts.
As a large part of my work involves talking with other spiritually-minded people, light-workers and energy-workers, around the world, all focusing intent and weaving a ‘net of light and love’ around the planet and praying for Earth balance and wholeness. This pattern seemed, initially, obviously connected, to be interwoven with, arising from, this work.
Connected. Connection. Weaving. Spinning. Protection.
I developed many images to illustrate this pattern I was ‘seeing’. All shared previously on this blog.
I worked with a wasps nest to inspire these.
Post publishing, a friend, on seeing it, shared this image of a pollen seed with me.
It bore an uncanny resemblance to what I seemed to be channeling here.
This made me happy.
Positive pollinating. Spreading the healing. The idea of Earth-healing networks.
Then a darker shadow began to emerge as I was divinely guided to research, to try and understand, the physical infrastructure of 5G.
How it worked.
The towers and satellites proposed.
The Earth surrounded, this time, by artificial, man-made, networks.
Signals bouncing between the surface towers and the surrounding satellites in a 3D, 360°, sphere.
A different kind of, Earth to Sky connected, invisible, spiky, ball.
It filled me with a deep terror.
I began to wonder if this was connected to the pattern somehow.
If this was what I had been sensing happening.
If the pattern that presented was actually a warning.
A stroll through my Facebook profile shares and my daily connecting with the zeitgeist seems to show this journey well.
The original images.
The expressed fears about this new technology.
‘When old growth ends’ video.
Images of the delta patterns in trees, Laniakia, blood vessels, eyes, returned to my consciousness.
Then came that spell of wild weather.
Intense rainfall and repeated storms.
I made videos of the quick changing light across the land.
I referenced the need for resilience, the ability to bend.
New evidence, from NASA, of the sun’s cellular structure echoed this pattern again!
These surface spots that reach out from centre and form, visible, cellular structures on the surface of a sphere!
Then I also noticed how Ai companies were utilizing the honeycomb/bee image, in their logos, branding and presentations.
Some kind of hive mind.
This began to feed more of my own conspiratorial, free, thinking.
I struggle with deep waves of nostalgia and ‘end of days’ feelings.
Feelings of powerlessness.
Ideas of extremes and extremities haunt my mind in meditation.
The gap, that I am so fond of ‘putting myself in’, now had edges/boundaries that were stretching, wider and wider, apart.
So far apart that I feel sometimes I am loosing sight of them.
I pondered the roles of the presynaptic and postsynaptic neurons in the brain.
How the synapses, (the gaps between transmitters and receivers), become larger, when natural hallucinogens are introduced to the body.
This, I have always assimilated, allows more SPACE for dreaming.
When our schedules are less tight and restrictive/prescriptive there is more space for dreaming.
Hence my long time fascination in all aspects of altered states and the stillness of meditation.
This has been the entire concept that lies behind this Rolling Om experiment.
It began by turning my own negative feelings of felt, geographical, isolation into something positive.
A healing of sorts, a way to strengthen the feeling that, despite my lack of social contact, I still belonged.
Embracing my isolated situation, the ‘gap’ I found myself in, by putting myself even deeper into it.
BEING HERE FULLY.
Facing my fears of social isolation.
At the same time tuning into, assimilating, the zeitgeist that came pouring into my own ‘sphere of influence’ through these screaming screens.
Then exploring inner landscapes, my honest, personal, response, and sitting with it.
Trusting what divinely presented, responding intuitively, using my varied creative abilities, then sharing this with the world online.
Trying always not to over-think or to please.
Just to present it as it arose, in it’s raw state.
(Allowing only for basic editing. Sometimes the ideas do also evolve during this process, but the aim is to stay true to initial, intuitive impulse.)
For all who witnessed either to take or leave.
The basic brief to self being:
What happens when a, creative individual, connects with all this human noise, steps back from it, assimilates, then turns their attention to their inner response and emotions? Then, while holding the whole of it, without allowing that ‘monkey mind’ to control/manipulate the impulse, bringing this into some kind of form, using what ever medium calls?
It did not take very long, due to my location, before the natural world, immediately around me, leapt, sharply, into focus.
I found I was not ‘alone’.
It became obvious that I was totally supported.
And it is this that has evolved to be the main ‘message’ of my work now.
I have certainly found that the more I release myself from the conditioned routines and expectations, I experience less anxiety, become more focused on the NOW and I am enabled to see the whole more clearly!
And these experiments have resulted in a lot of art, essays and poetry which help me to see myself as a ‘real’ person, with a purpose (outside of mother and householder which still take priority), something I really needed to see, as a large part of my depression was the feeling I was not using my gifts, in any way, to benefit (?) the world.
Transmitters and Receivers.
I begin to see more patterns.
Perhaps I am looking out for them? Reading too much into them?
Or are they simply asking for my attention?
The random hail storms played Tetris on my window pane.
Each ‘block’ landing and toppling the next.
‘Every action has an equal and opposite reaction’
I made a video.
I struggle with feelings of anger toward the companies who now threaten the Earth by ‘playing God’ with frequency.
I am often reminded of the huge lesson I had learned living with the with the Kalash tribe in North Pakistan over a few years in the early 1990’s.
A learning I have never forgotten.
Their elders, their shaman, (badyash), having no culture of lying, complained re-the the loss of something that they used to hear, but that is now drowned out by some kind of ‘interference’.
What they used to hear had been crucial to their entire spiritual existence, it informed them of right action, guided them.
Lack of being able to hear this was why their elders were dwindling in number and the reason they were so resigned to their fate.
(I can feel a separate blog post coming up on this.)
The indigenous struggles, globally, take a high place in my awareness.
The ‘innocents’ whose knowledge we now need so urgently, but whose environments are, so severely, threatened.
I find myself playing with the word ‘culture’.
Instead of celebrating it as a word to describe diversity, the beauty of human imagination and intelligence, I use it instead as ‘culture’ meaning something that grows on something else, taking from it, often something that is sick or dying.
Our civilization as a petri dish.
I search for positive, Utopian, dreaming and find so much.
I mourn the loss of habitats, this time of mass extinction, and find so much to mourn.
I cheer all Restoration.
I was, quite suddenly, gifted, and driven to draw, in pen and ink, a balancing, yin-yang, design, that spoke of the wonder of transpiration in trees.
I shared it with Treesisters. It sold almost immediately.
Always a hub of singing, sistering and evolution. I value my connection with these sisters so deeply now.
A golden thread.
Connecting like-minded women, and providing a supportive network, form the basis of much of their work.
That and reforestation projects.
A beloved online group keeping me connected with the Earth, the Mother, the cycles of the Moon and with the TREES.
Those other stunning, unfathomable, Earth to Sky connections.
Those living aerials.
That also grow outwards, from this revolving sphere, while also knitting it together with their network of deep roots.
That pattern again.
Except with the downward anchor of roots. As above so below.
I have been twisting soft rope, from rushes, for another online project.
A fellow artist, Adrian Baker, was calling out for ‘strands’ made from any fibre for an installation in Canada.
‘The installation is inspired by ‘the underground ‘network’ of mycorrhizal fungi which enables trees to communicate with one another through their roots. It also represents our connection to each other, in person or through the online ‘network’’
A technique I intend to continue, as it is very calming, productive and satisfying.
Connected. Connection. Weaving. Spinning. Protection.
Positive pollinating. Spreading the healing. The idea of Earth healing networks.
Transmitters and Receivers.
I picked up loads of usnea lichen, blown off the trees by the storms.
I made a mask of lichen.
And found myself, not for the first time, connecting intensely, with this extraordinary, totally independent and symbiotic, clean-air reliant, dual organism.
I became even more fascinated with its intricate, branching, structure.
Then, as if by magic, a local lichen-walk popped up on my Facebook thread.
I went to that, just a week before this ‘lock down’, and wrote this blog post about it.
I worked with ideas of natural masks, to camouflage us in the forest, as if to hide our humanity.
Also with ideas of ‘the invisible masks’ we all hide behind.
Now so many are wearing masks. Masks of protection.
I am hearing, more and more, new, great discussion and drama, on BBC radio and television, somehow connecting into all discussed above. Primarily new si-fi works dealing with ideas of new technology, Ai and potential evolutions, but also much connecting to Nature and our relationship with it.
So many talented artists searching for new narratives.
News of the virus in China was beginning to really hit the headlines.
Then I looked at published pictures of viruses under the electron microscope and was struck by their beauty and, again, by the similarity they held to my original drawing!
Just what was going on!?
Something significant was shifting.
Around this time I also began to work on breaking this, now 3 year long, self-isolating, practice and to become more involved in the community.
New projects, that I have long encouraged/supported and wanted to see locally, were beginning to appear.
I experienced a need to be more involved, physically, in these seeding initiatives.
Creative Hubs. Re-wilding groups. Gatherings of pro-active persons. Working together in areas that have long fascinated me, that I have accumulated a lot experience in.
I have never had the status, strength or confidence to lead these initiatives, but have long dreamed these into being, in conversation and, occasional participation.
I learned of a giant puppet, called Storm, that is coming to our local town in September.
I understood it’s message, felt it, on a deep level immediately.
A storm was indeed coming.
It resonated in my bones.
I already knew Vision Mechanics, the organization that created and built this mighty, travelling, Goddess, quite well. I had attended some of their workshops and had travelled long distances, often with my children, over the years, to support their work and expand my knowledge of puppetry. I had even networked with them with regard to, one day, building my own, travelling, puppet show.
Due to taking one of my breaks from consuming information through the internet, I had missed her debut in Glasgow. I could not believe it!
I called them asking what I could do.
I began to dream of offerings, that I could gather, with others, to make real, for her visit.
I thought some singing sirens would be great, or perhaps, some pavement art.
I called the one person I thought it would be great to work with and it turned out that she was one of the artists who had written the soundtrack for this performance!
What was the likely hood of that!?
She agreed that it would be good for me to get some local ‘happenings’ together.
I began to put out feelers, reach out to others, began to network, to attend a few events.
This, as usual for me now, brought up much anxiety, challenged my fears of collaborating with others, but I have been working hard on creating the boundaries, necessary for an extreme Empath/sensitive to have in social situations, and I felt I was ready.
I became involved in other ‘thread/fibre’ projects.
Sending out still more strands around the world, as part of ‘Weaving women back into matter’ within Treesisters.
I wove my dreaming into a heart of braided rushes and hung that on a white barked, Himalayan, birch tree, leaving the wind to carry my prayers.
Then I had the Buddha’s head incident!
(text below copied and pasted from original Facebook post)
‘This morning, in trying to open my window fully, so I could sit IN the sunshine, while still INSIDE (the sun came did come out for 1/2 hour!!), I accidentally knocked the head of a beloved, small, clay Buddha! (It had been a gift from the Sri Lankan Buddhist centre in Glasgow, where I studied teaching mindfulness, so was precious to me.)
I then struggled to close the window and found that it was the tiny head that was jamming it!
At first I was very upset, finding negative significance in this ‘event, but as I sat with this ‘loss’, held the two pieces, I began to find this more and more interesting….the metaphors in this small ‘happening’…the meaning of it….the whole concept of a headless Buddha….I realised that my initial ‘upset’ was clearly materialist and linked to attachment.
A buddhist approach to the mind, meditation and mindfulness, IS what ‘keeps the window open’ in my experience…
In ‘opening the window wider’, for more Light (vitamin D! ), I knocked the limiting, physical, head off Buddha! And, curiously, the resulting ‘headless’ body definitely speaks louder to me of the experience of meditation than his whole form ever did!
Online I found many images/stories of decapitated Buddhas….mostly ransacked/defiled by invaders , also a story from Cambodia where the Buddhas were beheaded by the villagers themselves for the real ‘gold inside’ ( in itself another intriguing metaphor!). I also found an interesting Asian artist that makes this the subject of the majority of his work. He reunites heads and bodies in a conceptual way…..in a kind of healing I suppose.
There is definitely a koan/poem in this tiny happening for me….so all in all….a gift.
Love this picture of one of the (aggressively) decapitated heads at Angkor, lovingly, carefully, placed in the tree roots….Think I might do this in my garden somewhere with ‘my’ tiny clay head!’
The day I posted this friend contacted me to say that exactly the same thing had happened to her Buddha statue….that day! A few days later another friend commented how strange it felt to read my post as she had been talking with an acquaintance about the decapitated, Cambodian, Buddha’s that day also!
I picked a book at random, today, and it fell open on these words;
‘Carrying a Buddha nothing can happen, because how can you carry a Buddha? You can only carry a statue. Buddha has to be lived, not carried. Buddha has to be loved, not possessed. You have to dissolve yourself in the Buddha, not carry him as your possession.’
(Osho: ‘No Water. No Moon: Talks on Zen Stories)
There is a message in all this somehow.
What can it be?
What am I not seeing?
Are we all ‘losing ‘our heads’?!
Or is it, as above, simply Time to examine/explore events from other perspectives, to find the positive in, what may appear to be, negative events?
I was carrying the hoover downstairs and I stood on the electric plug and found these words…
Yesterday I stood on a plug.
The electric kind.
Man it hurt.
It left its three pronged mark in my sole.
It reminded me of this piece I drew in 2017.
Not to get too involved in all this Fear.
Not to get lost in this artificial narrative.
To leave this screen.
Turn off the computer.
And return to the unpopulated Wonder
And Beauty that IS all around.
Seek that out.
Listen instead to the bird song,
Walk barefoot on deep mosses,
from all this infernal human
Breathe deep and Open my Eyes.
Kat Robertson March 17 2020
I was out walking and saw some natural, local, clay. I was guided to dig some up for processing to make some, ceremonial, prayer, ‘earth pots’.
I contacted a local potter to make a date to learn how to ‘pit-fire’ them later in the year.
On the ‘otherside’ of this pandemic.
I am looking forward to that.
I played with this raw clay and the Buddha’s head.
I ‘planted’ his head in the Earth, as if he was growing from it, or sinking into it.
I then ‘fixed’ the broken Buddha with this earth clay.
I changed the angle of his head.
He took on a much more lively and playful attitude.
He came ALIVE.
Mended with earth.
All around the throat chakra.
Talking for the earth.
My meditations begin to undergo simple evolutions.
Still simply asking ‘show me’ and opening myself up to all around, but they also became more deeply about sensation in the body.
Often I would find myself responding in more movement.
Sometimes standing, often squatting on the earth, head bowed.
Being more open too to the visuals that arose behind my closed eyelids.
And there it was again.
The same pattern keeps coming up.
The ‘net’ around the sphere lit up, but with a dark spot, a rip in the web of light, similar to the hole in the ozone layer.
Each time this presents I work to visualize closing/mending the hole in the net.
The virus was really began to hit home.
Like all families, so far affected, we have had to assimilate all the ever-changing information, disruption of routines and learn to lean into the discomfort.
Many events, I had signed up to participate in, were cancelled.
Gaia seemed determined to get me to focus.
To stay in this solo conversation with this infinite micro-macro, living, world I now inhabit.
To sit ever more firmly in the gap.
While I feel for all affected, I cannot help but see so many potential solutions.
The possibility that this, this horror, this terrible virus, could also hold so many answers to the problem of climate change.
In consequence I also can be a bit obsessed by the question as to whether it was natural or designed.
Unsure now of just which side I am ‘working’ for!
If indeed there are any sides in this at all, or very many?
I do know, however, that I feel trapped between two distinct ‘landscapes’.
The human/humanitarian and the Gaian/holistic, view.
While I have despaired, often, at our collective, human, seeming lack of ability to change our behaviour when faced with the threat of climate change, I have always managed to remain a humanitarian.
Now I almost feel we deserve this virus.
I have never felt quite like this before.
I became involved in a debate about a supposedly ‘fake news’ list of tips to survive corona virus that was being damned by the mainstream media.
A friend had sent it to me and I liked it so much I shared it.
I was immediately inundated with others, blunt posting, of ready-made, ‘warning: this is fake news’ articles.
Links that, in my reality, appeared even more fake!
The original message stressed natural healing and there was nothing in the advice shared that clashed with my knowledge of how to keep healthy in the face of a flu virus.
It was, perhaps rightly, being decried as it did not also stress the need for hand cleaning and social distancing and some of the science was unproven….
But fresh air, sunshine, salt gargles, deep breathing did not seem like advice that warranted the reaction it received.
I began to mistrust this whole virus.
Not that it was not real, but exploring ideas that it was not natural.
It just seemed too much of a coincidence that Wuhan happens to be the location of one of the world’s biggest centres for virology…..I have since read many articles ‘explaining’ why this not the case, but they still ‘ring hollow when tapped’.
Somewhere, online, I learned that Bill Gates, apparently, owns the patents for two other, previous, types of corona virus……
For a few days I became lost in ideas of this being man-made, but soon realised that that way of thinking, even if true, does nothing to protect my family or change what is happening NOW.
Besides, who knows what to believe in all this hysteria?
And this virus is most definitely here.
I began to find others believing, like me, that it could, indeed, be the best thing that ever happened to this planet.
There is a long list of pros. Here are some off the top of my head!:
Cleaner air as industry grinds to a halt.
Cleaner air would mean far fewer deaths in the long run.
Encourage people to see air travel to other countries, exotic locations, as a real adventure, a special privilege, not something to be taken for granted. Never a commute.
Who wants to find themselves trapped on the other side of the world?
Travel is a risky business!
New approaches to economy.
Ideas of free internet being muted by educationalists.
Re-nationalization of our transport infrastructure being discussed.
Deeper respect for our treasured health services and other vital key workers. The waste services I notice are little mentioned or celebrated.
The understanding of how interconnected we all are.
The leveling of humans around the globe.
The spreading of kindness. More thoughtfulness for others.
Enforced isolation bringing many to face themselves, given an opportunity to re-evaluate their lives.
The re-emergence of LOVE.
LOVE as a counter-virus, spreading fast.
Experiments with new forms of education.
Need for increased awareness re-resources.
Weeding out of dependency on state.
Encouragement of more free thinking independence.
What a wake up call!
In every way the kind of shift that so many of us had been praying for! For so long!
The planet can breathe better again!
All in Nature sings with joy.
Thank you! Thank YOU! Thank you!
Can you hear it too?
Now we can ALL begin to breathe again.
For this is GLOBAL air.
Enough to, healthily, stimulate our boundless brains
To invent, re-invent, circumvent, vent,
Encourage effective ventilation! Transpiration!
An opportunity to learn to see, at last, new ways to live in better harmony with this
Our Earth. Mother. Ship.
As this threat rises and ebbs away
Let’s not return to our old ways blindly.
Like most addictions, we must learn to resist temptation.
Lean into this discomfort.
Less is more.
Cleaner air brings fewer deaths in the bigger picture.
In Time may we be able to drop the masks of conditioned culture.
All is in the balance.
Bow to this virus, whatever it’s source, and assume responsibility,
Like any Mother, there is only so much she can give,
Before it becomes Time to look after Her.
Kat Robertson March 19 2020.
Again a surge in purpose. An affirmation.
The timing has been violent in many ways.
Just as I begin to reach out from my own self-imposed retreat I find myself confined again.
But also, as a consequence, I have been more able to help others in our community.
Signing up as a volunteer to keep an eye on folk, to help with getting shopping. Making myself available.
Offering learned alternative wisdoms to those who ask. Herbal tonics. Plant medicines. Foraging tips.
How to live without toilet paper.
Nothing much has changed for us here on our hill.
I enjoy isolation. I have skills to share that many others now need to form. The contented ability to withdraw.
How to enjoy spending time alone, in one place, without becoming lonely or trapped.
My public, online, celebration of Gaia and the space around me here, did come into question though, when 1000’s of wealthy ‘corona refugees’ swarmed out of the cities, to their second homes, or in motorhomes, to our more remote communities.
For a short while our rural, health and food infrastructure was threatening to buckle under the pressure.
I wondered if, through social media, I should be ‘advertising’ the beauty and space available to us?
I do experience huge empathy with this need to find places away from urban development, to breathe, to escape contagion, but they bring with them such problems for our existing infrastructure.
I saw posts saying ‘Go Home Idiots’ and found myself agreeing.
I was unable to buy pasta (or toilet roll for other members of my family, I am content with washing!), as they cleaned out our stores in search of supplies. It seemed all so selfish of them!
Then the government began threaten fines for this behaviour, driving the message to ‘stay at home’ and this wave, has now, receded.
(I noticed too that that same government never acknowledged that it was their, fearful, message that instigated that panicked response)
These are the same, urban, people who generally refer to people who choose this rural lifestyle, as remote ‘country-bumpkins’, when in fact we are far from it.
We are connected. Earthed.
We choose to live away from others, their confusing, urban,social games and complexity.
There are other sacrifices made to in order enjoy this space.
Not all easy.
The sheer distances involved make for a pretty hardy, self reliant bunch of folks. Support networks all further away. Everything requires planning.
Take ways, cinema, cultural events, for example, are seen as luxuries/treats never taken for granted.
Our small communities now also largely rely on them. On their ‘tourist dollar’….often partially ‘enslaved’ to their visiting….
Yet this emergency means they become ‘not welcome’….
So many gaps closing, walls being built, as the extremes become wider.
Then another extraordinary turn of events meant I was also brought face to face with our own dependency on the system, having been feeling quite smug about our ability to sit out this pandemic on our remote hill.
We are the kind of family that rarely has need of the NHS.
But, shortly after this virus began to impact on us all, my son began vomiting violently. We telephoned our surgery on the 3rd day. He could keep nothing down and was visibly fading. The doctor said he needed to see him.
We drove the 30 miles to the surgery and blood and urine samples were taken. Judging by the queues outside the pharmacy and the new protocol at the surgery, it was becoming clear that this pandemic was making it’s mark. The doctor prescribed some pain killers for the acute stomach pain my son was experiencing and anti-nausea pills, suggesting that we return home and keep a close eye on him, but not to hesitate if the situation worsened, as he believed it could be appendicitis.
One hour after arriving back home, the phone rang.
His bloods showed that he was at risk of appendicitis!
We were requested to return immediately and attend the hospital, to pack a bag, as surgery may be necessary.
We jumped back into the car.
The hospital really was the last place we wanted to go in these times!
Some workers were installing a huge ‘Corona Virus protocol’ sign outside the A&E department.
As it turned out it, it was decided that it was a false alarm, that it was just a tummy bug.
With a huge sigh of relief we completed the 120 mile round trip and returned home.
He is well now.
Then that same week we had to call an ambulance.
A man, working on site taking my husband’s, fire damaged, steel shed down, fell 15ft, off a ladder, onto concrete.
Seems he has smashed his shoulder blade and broken his ankle.
I experience deep gratitude for all key workers.
All in the balance.
How lovely my life is now with all my boys home, safe.
(Despite their teenage tendencies to consume and spend all available time on screen, ignoring our advice and calls to come outside. Draconian measures soon to be instigated within our four walls!)
Lovely too that the garage is quiet.
No industrial work continuously grinding on around.
Although goddess only knows how we are going to survive, financially, without that income.
It has been one year since that catastrophic fire and we are have still not received all the monies owed to us through the insurance.
We had, at long last, received the permission from them to ‘tear-down’ the damaged shed and things were feeling more positive, less ‘stuck’ in limbo. But now all plans for the new structure and rebuild are on hold again, due to the ‘lock down’…..
Small comfort that we certainly are not alone in this dilemma…..
A part of me is hoping that things never go ‘back to normal’.
I have always detested ‘normal’.
A Terror or a Cure?
Potential sci-fi plots grow in my mind.
What other reasons might there be for ‘them’ to want us all indoors, stuck on our screens?
An email from this appeal dropped into my mail box.
‘On Wednesday, March 18, SpaceX launched 60 more satellites into space from Cape Canaveral, Florida, bringing the total of SpaceX’s Starlink satellites orbiting the earth to 350.
Also on March 18, OneWeb launched 34 more satellites into space from the Baikonur Cosmodrome in Kazakhstan, bringing the total of OneWeb’s satellites orbiting the earth to 74.
None of these satellites have yet gone into operation, but on March 13, 2020, the Federal Communications Commission granted SpaceX permission to sell one million user devices to American customers.
This has turned a long-standing concern into an emergency. For last fall, SpaceX announced its intention to begin providing 5G service to the northern United States and southern Canada after it had at least 400 satellites orbiting the earth.
The threat to terrestrial life — at least in portions of North America — may now be only weeks away.’
Seems that, for some, business continues very much as usual.
Why too does the media down play that Wuhan connection?
Blaming Chinese eating habits without ever even stating that Wuhan is the location of that international centre of virology?
I cannot be alone in finding that stark omission suspicious, especially when then are so many precedents for genetic ‘mucking about’ resulting in similar epidemics….
(Here I am speculating about things I cannot change again….it seems I cannot help it…)
It has been clear to many of us that ‘too many humans’ has been the problem for some considerable amount of time.
Is this their solution?
Or the Earth’s solution?
Whose side am I now on?!
If it is a ‘them’, do they even know what they are doing?
It has also been clear to so many of us that the worlds resources could be shared far more efficiently for a very long time.
Is this their aim?
Or is there someone, somewhere, who stands to gain more out of this than the rest of us?
(I quiet my mind and stare out into our spring garden. All appears exactly the same as before. Feeling , not for the first time, to be in the eye of a storm. A blue tit comes and hangs off the window frame.)
Of course I am full of sadness/grief for all those that will lose their lives and/ or family.
Affected also by the Fear I feel in the air when I make my weekly shopping trips (for two families now) and in the voices of friends and families when we talk on the phone.
Let’s face it, it could be me or those I love.
But the bigger picture continues to haunt me.
I had a very powerful dream last night.
One of those ones that verges on a vision.
A castellated fortress sticking out into the water.
Whole communities living within its walls.
I lived among them.
Our peace was being threatened by an unseen enemy.
We were preparing for war.
A vanguard of the best looking men you have ever seen, true warriors of all races, arrived in a dramatic convoy, to help with the fight.
They paid little attention to me.
That is until I flew!!
I really flew!!
I can remember the feeling now.
It is years since I lucidly flew in dreaming.
I was in complete control of it.
I demonstrated my ‘power’ to them and earned respect.
I guided them through this sprawling, labyrinthine, structure, and found ways to get higher, to the top, the ramparts.
They needed to get a grip on the lie of the land.
From there we could see far across the water to the hills beyond….the enemy was lining the horizon….an army of identical robotic, holographic, soldiers….
It was then we stopped Time itself.
I woke up knowing that I had to get this all out how ever it came.
And now here it is.
This massed, knotted, thread of words.
An alternative documentation of exceptional times, my unique response to the experience, so far……
It seems to suggest that I need to trust my intuition more.
Perhaps it was, in fact, the virus I ‘saw’ coming in those first patterns?
Perhaps this virus is, in fact, little more than the common flu?
The hype making it far more dangerous than it would have been if allowed to take it’s course?
If it was or was not it is of little relevance now.
What I choose to take away from ALL this is how connected and intertwined all of our, collective, dreaming and inspiration is and that, in this, lies such huge potential, a potential that we can neither measure or even predict, a vast, unknown, potential that calls for us all to be the change we want to see. To learn to be stiller. Less is more. To learn to trust in all beyond our understanding. To practice Gratitude for small things and cleaner air.
And LOVE more.
(Just today another artist friend contacted me, from the local village, asking me if I would like to continue her ‘red thread’ of connection, a joyful art response, over on this side of the peninsula. It is based also on the idea that we are all connected and designed to be a visual reminder of this.
A red thread weaving through the landscape.
I will collect the red string from the box outside her house sometime next week.)
It is spring now.
With all this drama I have not celebrated this vernal equinox the way I usually mark it.
The weather is going to be fine these next few days.
It is in the garden that I will be found.
Weeding and seeding.
And loosing myself in wonder, gazing deep into the centre of spring flowers, singing with the birds, with mud under my finger nails and prayers on my lips.
So much love I send to this Earth and all sentients that dwell upon her.
All we can do now is look out for those around us, (not only the humans), and take each day at a time.
“Upon entering that rapid, what you must not do, is focus on all the different obstacles that could tip, shred or otherwise demolish your boat – because focusing on what frightens you, magnetizes you to them like magic. You manifest your fears. Instead, he said, you look for the ‘through line’ – the apparent pathway through the rapid that brings you to the other side, and all of you focus on that as a team.”
Now is indeed a time ‘to practice being fictional for a while’.
(a quote from Richard Bach’s Illusions: The adventures of a Reluctant Messiah)
And, as he also wrote in that wonderful book…..
‘Everything above may be wrong!’
Deep Bow to ALL Life.
I love you.
I am Sorry.
Please Forgive Us.