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.