Category: Spirit Whispers

The Gentle Dance of Grass Medicine

When the moon wanes, her fading light makes the cold night seem older and wilder somehow and I begin to feel the winter more deeply.

Lately, I’ve been finding comfort in the whispers of the grasses. I watch them in the fields on my walks. I see them dance with the winter breeze, speaking a breathy language of their own. Their voices sound like freedom, their rhythmic sway feels like grace. They calm my heart.

It’s difficult not to sense the ancient essence of what they once were when I walk and listen and feel beyond the surface. I wonder if sometimes at night these remnants of the once vast grasslands/savannahs that were here long before we built this city over them look up at the stars and dream. Do they dream of a time when lion walked among them and when herds of springbok grazed the grass stubble at their feet?

When I breathe their wild stories in then I feel my spirit set free a little more, a part of me swaying slowly side to side right there in their midst. A holy hush brushes up against me and I can’t imagine ever going back to a time when life was too busy to notice – this. Too busy to be still, to hear the wild Earth speak truth or to see the glimpses of sacredness that she mirrors to me.

I gathered a few pieces of grass for a little wild word mantra inspiration, to see what soul medicine they had to offer. I’ve been doing this more often lately. It’s a practise I’m trying to make more of a habit than an occasion exercise (and perhaps I’ll share of this more of the blog going forward too) because right now the mantras help me create a positive focus to centre on each week.

Here Are The Words That Came: Light, Flow, Dance, Whispers and Gentle.

My Wild Word Mantra this Week: I ignite my inner light when I surrender to the flow of life. I am willing to dance to the gentle rhythms of sacredness as I honour my heart’s whispers.

grass wild word mantra

The Rising Sun Within

“In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.”

~ Albert Camus

There is a rising sun in my heart today, a glowing ball of light that’s shining rays over inner landscapes that have been cold and dark for a while. The sun feels warm, soft and golden.

I feel this gentle wisdom rising and I hear something saying that we all have seasons of the soul – winters, dry seasons, periods of sadness or moments when we feel stuck in a rut. Each serves its purpose, has its place and time, its lessons. Each highlights the emotions and shadows we need to work through. But when the dark season lingers for too long and we can’t see a way out…then remember the sun within – the warm empowering inner glow – and let it rise and bring the return of joy.

If not joy then at least a bit of light, a bit of warmth or a touch of comfort.

Let your inner sun soothe you, illuminate and guide you on your way to a positive space of possibilities.

I’m reminded once more that Nature mirrors what’s within us. Today, through the sunrise she is teaching me that I have an eternal luminous sphere of joy resting somewhere inside of me and that when darkness lingers, I need only be still and summons that inner sun to rise.

So, I close my eyes and let it rise and rise and rise inside me, yellow rays spreading to all the gloomy corners where self-doubt and fear have been lurking. I see these places brighten. I feel the heaviness in my chest lighten. Things look a different in this light, less ominous, more hopeful.

Do you know the magic of a sleeping land and sky that awakens slowly to the kiss of the sun? Close your eyes and let your inner sun rise.

sunrise at the forest

500 Words of Wild Wisdom: A Path Through the Forest

Today, I am so happy to share the first instalment of the new 500 Words of Wild Wisdom blog series. The first guest post is A Path Through the Forest from Anne Linn, a beautiful poetic writer whose work I love and the author of The Little Flower:You Are Loved. In this piece, Anne writes about her experience of nature as a path to the Divine Mother, healing and a deeper connection with herself. 

A Path Through the Forest by Anne Linn

I knelt in the rain, in the last light of autumn and prayed to the Goddess, to all overseeing things. I prayer to the trees, to the sky, and felt the darkness gathering around, inky black and full of stars.

I walked in the forest and it seemed darker than I remember, and yet more lovely as I crouched to pick the last of the blueberries, as I gathered golden mushrooms along a moss covered path.

The sun and gone away, and I walked through a long shadow, feeling the evening deepening, seeing the sky lose its colour.

I stood by the stream, hearing the rush of water, loving its song, which is the music I always return to, the song of water.

I felt broken there in the forest, cracked open, and I kept walking even though I had been tired, had told myself I would not go far.

I felt the presence of the Goddess in the air, in the wind. I wanted to get closer, to feel her touch. I felt I was walking in a white glittering light, in an eternal church, vast and beautiful, stretching into eternity.

Life was easier then, when I wasn’t alone. When I was filled with her love, spreading out, touching everything with beauty, so even the dark trees seemed wrapped in pearls, in white light.

A Lesson Learned

I was asked to share something I had learned from nature, from the Goddess. I couldn’t think of much, other than one powerful thing, that nature brings healing. And that it helps me find her, my divine mother, helps me connect with her and with myself.

I once visited a friend in a beautiful place in nature. She took me to see a couple who lived away from any noise, any roads, and grew their own food, a river only steps away. My friend said how much she’d love to one day live like that, and I felt that too. I have often dreamed about owning a small house or cottage in the forest, next to swaying trees, my window overlooking an overgrown garden of herbs, wild roses climbing the walls.

But as I looked at this beautiful sanctuary in nature, it somehow seemed dark, empty. And I felt how alone I’d be without the God and Goddess, how I needed them to fill the space I was in. I felt that wherever I went, I had to carry them with me, and let them show me where to go.

That’s why I look for her in everything, when I make my food, when I walk in the forest. I want to be filled with something divine and beautiful, to touch something unseen, a world hidden and out of sight, but so close, the veil so thin I can almost reach through it. Sometimes in dreams I see beyond it and catch glimpses of glittering mysteries. Places I think we all long for. Places we might have been once, that was once home, and that we deep down still remember.

Last night I awoke from a dream, feeling I had been in a vast temple of stone, and wanted to return there. I was filled with longing and joy, because I remember a fragment of something wonderful, fragments of love.

It made me want to bring that temple inside of me, to carry it with me throughout the day. To have a secret place in my heart for the Goddess, to worship her, the rose, the light.

About Author:

 

Anne LiALheadshot.jpgnn writes about nature, about spirituality, and the Goddess. She also shares about grief and loss, and ways to mend the soul, the heart. She has written a short story, and is currently working on her next book. You can find her at www.littleforestflower.com