Willow Healing

In the midst of an enchanted, crystal forest
lies my soul,
beneath a weeping willow
tree. ~ Monika Arnett

This afternoon, I find myself thinking of a Weeping Willow tree that I once knew. She made her home in the office garden of the place I used to work at, and subsequently found a home in my heart too. A beautiful old willow growing nowhere near any water. Yet still, she did her best to thrive where fate had laid her roots.

Sometimes during my lunch break, I’d sit near her and practice tree breathing. Giving thanks for her breath and offering my exhale back to her. The willow tree went to sleep during winter. She’d shed her leaves and droop her twigs in a sleepy and sombre demeanour, as willow’s do. She’d sway her bare wiry limbs wildly in the August winds. And when Spring came, her gentle and nurturing energy sprung back to life with new green leaves and a fresh aroma. I swear it was as if the willow was smiling and dealing bursts of childlike giggles when she re-emerged in the season of rebirth.

In The Healing Power of Trees, Sharlyn Hidalgo wrote:

“When you feel troubled, in emotional pain, or very angry, bring Willow’s energy in. She will hold you and allow you to accept your feelings so you can release them, and she will offer you comfort. Like Apple, Willow is a great mother.”

When I think of the way I felt in her presence, the way her leaves danced around me in the breeze and brushed against my skin. When I think of how one afternoon, when I was feeling particularly low, I stood next to her and she threw her thin branches over me, as if to wrap me in her embrace, I know there is truth to Hidalgo’s words. That willow tree was my medicine woman, pouring healing into me.

I often felt that this dear weeping willow’s life must have been hard. The soil she grew in was rocky, dry and she was in a dreary spot. She must have been dreaming of her brothers and sisters growing down by the river. Alas, she took the hand she was dealt in her stride, fulfilling her potential as best as she could and still shared her incredible love and beauty with whoever cared to look. That inspires me. I am grateful to have known this weeping willow.

Samhain blessings to the people in the South, and a (belated) happy Beltane to those of you in the North.

There’s a willow tree that stands by my river
She holds me in her arms when I am cold.
And we listen to the sounds
Of the pebbles on the ground,
And I know what it means to be old.

~ Douglas Wood

Silver Light and Evening Primrose Essence

A quiet calm lingers in the silver sky overhead. It’s still drenched in the soft touch of last night’s moonlight as the slow rising sun on the horizon gradually brings colour to the world. The chill in the crisp autumn air makes me feel alive and awake to the mystery of the world that is quietly unfolding before me.In moments like this, I gladly lend my heart to the Mother Nature and surrender to the caress of her wintry breeze. In return, she fills me with her wild love.

Last night, after a full moon meditation in the garden, I used the evening primrose and moonstone elixir that I made two moons ago to make an aura spray. I set the aura spray bottles out in the moonlight to soak in more Goddess energy.

Several weeks after making the initial elixir, I discovered that I’d instinctively harvesting the evening primrose flowers exactly as recommended (by a flower essence book I found) that night under the moonlight. After reading this, I wondered if perhaps these healing night flowers had guided me to do so intuitively. I’d been so drawn to them at the time and the idea of an unseen sacred communion having occurred renews my confidence in the depth of my intuitive connection to these plant allies. It’s reminded me of the kind of magic that happens when one flows with that wild inner knowing.

Evening primrose flower energy embodies a mothering essence that is great to work with for emotional healing and for opening up to emotional nourishment. I look forward to seeing what working with these energies (combined together with the intuitive and feminine properties of the moonstone) will unfold and shift in my experience.

Wishing you a blessed and happy Monday!

Wind Whipped Stories and Friday Ocean Vibes

They’d said that her people came from the desert, that they were descendants of the ancient nomadic tribes who once roamed its red sandy dunes, but she knew differently. In her heart she knew that her bloodline was born from the ocean’s womb, a long line of women of the water. That dawn, as the morning star began to fade in the light of the rising sun, she walked through her garden on the rocky shore and down to the water’s edge. There, the placid cove waves greeted her with a lapping sound as it gently kissed her feet, shied away and then returned to kiss her once more…

The beginning of new story I think?

It had been so long since I’d written fiction. But for a few months now, words have been stirring within and turning themselves into stories. So I’ve been writing little bits about terracotta babies, a lonely girl restoring her late mother’s garden and now a crone woman standing at the edge of the sea. I don’t know if these stories will ever go anywhere. For now, I am content with the fact that there is joy in the writing and that’s all that matters.

I’m sure this latest bit of inspiration comes from the echoes of ocean wind still locked in my heart, residue of my trip to the sea. It seems to be breathing its untold tales to life inside me. So, I thought I’d share some pictures from my recent visit at the coast and send some healing ocean vibes your way for Friday inspiration.

Have a Happy Friday!