How to Meet Your Vulnerability with Tenderness

Delicate things are incredibly beautiful. I held a single jasmine blossom in my hand this morning, amazed at how something so small could offer such powerful perfume. I noticed how I softened in awe of the jasmine flower’s fragile nature. Delicate things do that to us. We are touched by the understated beauty of their vulnerability.

But can we meet the soft and vulnerable parts of ourselves with the same kind of tenderness? Can we release the judgements that we place on our intricate feminine qualities or flaws and see them as things of beauty instead of weaknesses?

I was taught to judge myself harshly and I’ve spent many years on a self-healing path learning to undo this thinking, learning to treat myself with compassion instead. Somehow, holding that tiny flower in my palm offered a new kind of guidance back to wholeness. Is this what I need to do when I project negative judgement towards myself and my so-called ‘weaknesses’?…Hold a tiny flower (or a silky rose petal, a butterfly or a little lady bug) in the palm of my hand. Look at its smallness, its softness and its delicate nature for a moment. Allow myself to shift into gentleness and then hold the vulnerabilities, flaws and things that frustrate me about myself in my heart so that I transfer the same kind of compassion to them.

Every day I am reminded of how important it is for me to be my own nurturer if I want to live in grace and return to wholeness. Using a simple little flower to teach me that may be an inane way to do so, but I am willing to try nonetheless.

How do you meet your vulnerability with tenderness and compassion?

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The Process of Becoming

I search for wisdom and inspiration in Nature. To heal myself and to share the spiritual insights I find with others in the hope that what I experience and write about will heal them in some way too. On a morning like this when the silver light shines down from a dark grey sky into the humble life of the garden, Mother Nature makes it so easy to find what I am looking for. There is an ambiance of holiness in the air that I want to touch, breathe in and draw deep into the subtle parts of me. Stories write themselves in the breeze, bits of wisdom drip from the Cyprus tree and the clouds weave wild words in a language of their own.

I feel like a priestess in the herb garden this morning. It’s like the smell of the damp earth and rain awakens memories of another time, another life, and I feel the presence of Goddess even more. I pick some borage flowers and sage from for my morning tea and a thought crosses my mind. Doesn’t the phrase ‘heaven on earth’ seems made for days like this where pieces of heaven fall with the rain to touch the once dry soil? Because when the world is wet and grey, it is so still while a sacred glow falls over the land and to me it feels like an imagined heaven.

My pondering mind is full of questions today. What is in a raindrop? The secret dreams of the river queen flowing from the mountains to the ocean? And what does the tree feel when she’s soaked in raindrops that glisten like diamonds in the soft light? Does she revel in the coolness of their touch? Sometimes when the branches are heavy from their weight it seems like the raindrops are pulling the tree downward to the earth and saying “Look down. Look how far you’ve come! As you reach toward the sky, never forget the journey you’ve taken.”

Maybe the tree needs this reminder so that she doesn’t feel stagnant, rooted in one place for eternity. Maybe she needs to know that although she doesn’t flow across lands or etch meandering river course ways into the sand, she is still moving, charting her soul’s path as she branches into the sky. In fact, don’t we all need these reminders from time to time? We need to be reminded that no matter how slow or treacherous our journey may seem sometimes, we are always growing. Even when the heart’s desires seem far off, we are in the process of becoming. We are in the process of becoming the writer, the healer or the better version of ourselves that we so long to be. Half the joy of life is in the process, the experience and the journey after all.

While it’s never helpful to dwell in the past, it’s necessary sometimes to look back and take note of how far you’ve come, to take stock of the obstacles you’ve overcome and the circumstances you’ve triumphed over. Sometimes you just need to look back to count the stepping stones you’ve passed to know that you are actually moving forward and then be grateful for where you are right now and what you’re journeying toward.

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Forgotten Women of the Water

It rained all night and the bamboo chimes on the veranda danced in the storm all the way through to the early morning. I felt the dry river filling in my sleep and slowly begin to move again. Something inside of me quietly began to move again too.

I woke up to a grey world. All was still, wet and drenched in soft light. So, when I drew the Daughter of Water tarot card this morning, it seemed fitting for this dreamy rain soaked day. The Daughter of water reminds us that our delicate feminine qualities, the softer parts of our wild essence, are searching for expression and she calls us to allow ourselves to be led by our deepest stirrings. These are messages that I’ve been leaning into a lot in recent times.

The Daughter of Water got me thinking about forgotten women of the water. Not just mythical mermaids, but real women of the water too.

Women like the Ama, the last remaining Japanese mermaids who for free dive to gather abalone, shellfish and pearls – a tradition that their mothers, grandmothers and the women in their line have followed for nearly two thousand years.

Women like Chiaro Vigo, whose story I discovered via Sarah’s blog. Chiaro is said to be the last woman who makes sea silk. Her story, her craft, her sea silk medicine and her profound connection with the ocean is just so beautiful it moves me deeply.

I can’t explain what it is about the watery threads of their beautiful stories that weave together tapestries of emotion and deep thought inside me. Perhaps it’s that they seem Goddess touched or that their stories somehow reaffirm the ancient link between the ocean and our delicate feminine qualities. They awaken the hidden pieces of the ocean that I carry in my womb.  In some ways, these stories also remind me of the power we have as daughters to carry our mother’s and grandmother’s stories into the future.

Wishing you a peaceful and watery weekend.

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