The Healing Storm

“In the distance I hear the quiet rumble of thunder. The taste of fresh mystery hangs in the air like a thick layer of honey ready to be licked up by willing souls who go out into the rain in search of something sacred.” (Excerpt from chapter 3 of my book, Wild Essence)

Sunday at midnight, the gusts of wind that stirred before the storm drew me outside. The trees swayed wildly to and fro. Lightening lit up the sky here and there, the thunder a gentle rumble. As the night stars disappeared under a blanket of dark grey clouds, I revelled in the comfort of the cool wind that whipped against my skin.

Soon dark corners of the garden became visible as my eyes adjusted to night vision. It reminded me of those summer nights playing outside ‘til late at night, hide-and-go-seek in the dark, hiding in the bushes. I remember the yellow-green glow of wild hare and wild cats’ eyes in the moonlight up in the hills behind our row of neighbourhood houses. It was so eerie and mystical at the same time. Perhaps it was the nostalgia, but a part of me wanted to prance around the midnight garden and climb in the spaces between the shrubs and trees the way we used to back then.

When the rain came down (and heavily so), it felt like it was washing away the residue of a difficult week. The past week has required lots of deep breaths, self-nurturing, green juices, turmeric and ginger tonics and moments of stillness to retreat. My health wasn’t at its best, we had a death in the family, my father-in-law landed in hospital and various other stressful situations seemed to crop up all at once. So the cleansing vibration of the timely rain seemed to wash away the tension I’d been carrying.

Something in me wondered if this was the last storm I’d see in a while. I hope not. But living in a summer rainfall area means that as we descend deeper into autumn and then winter, the rain soon fades away. Winter here in the central interior means dry blue sunny skies. I do love the sun (especially when my house is freezing) and mild winters, but sometimes I also miss the wet coastal winters and occasional snow-capped mountains of the parts of the country that I grew up in. Yes, we have our cold snaps and chilly days as one would expect, but much less wetness to quench my thirsty ombrophiliac soul.

This is probably why in recent years, I’ve set myself a challenge – to find new things to love about the changing seasons, new ways to soothe my soul and seek out the healing and lessons of Nature. It’s always an adventure to see what will be discovered in the new season. And with my sense of wellbeing now renewed, I look forward to discovering the wild whispers that find their way to me as the dark months unfold.

A Quiet and Graceful Start

I woke up to the sound of rain, the soft soothing summer kind that I love so much and often write about. The grey gloomy sky seemed to wrap itself around my heart and the wind whispered little secrets of the good things set to come as this New Year slowly starts to unfold. I watched the rain through the window for a while, the soft white sheer curtains of my bedroom blowing gently to and fro. This dreamy scene is the first of my wild blessing that I‘ve recorded and placed into my wild blessing box.

I will never understand what it is about this wetness, this greyness and this dreaminess that moves me so. Perhaps it transports me to a space between the veils where magic is alive, Spirit dances and all things are possible. So what can I do other than rest in a place of quiet awe, grateful for the stillness and enchantment?

When the rain died down, I wrapped myself in a white cotton shawl that I bought in the Karoo on our recent trip there, and then went out into the garden to pick some herbs for my morning tea. There are few things more precious than the feel of wet grass under my feet. Or the feeling that comes with connecting the herbs, harvesting leaves and flowers of these plant allies that I’ve been tending to and taking little bits of their medicine into my body. Today, I felt called to draw in the healing energies of red clover flowers, stevia and yarrow.

I draw my first card for the year from my new Little Sage oracle deck. The card that came up was EMERGE. I think it’s a lovely message for today. It speaks of change, transformation and emergence.

“Just like the butterfly that starts its journey in a different form, you too are transitioning and emerging from one period to the next. Change is here and, through this growth, you blossom and grow,” it says.

For some reason I imagined that I’d gone into a cocoon in one form last night and emerged from my slumber in a new form this morning. What a strange thought. One thing is for sure though, the past year has definitely been one of change and transitioning, with me getting to the core of who I am and what it is that my soul aches for. I’ve been pulling away the layers and witnessing the dormant threads of my wild essence return to me. I am curious to see what more of my essence emerges from the dark spiral caves to return to the light as 2015 moves on.

When the kettle boiled and I’d done steeping the herbs for my tea, I grabbed a few star-shaped soetkoekies to have with my tea and hopped back into bed. Soetkoekies are traditional South African biscuits, usually had at Christmas. They are so buttery and delicious. It’s probably not the best thing for me, but I figured I might as well enjoy a few before returning to my sugar free healthy eating plan.

In bed, I sipped my tea and caught up with reading some of my favourite blogs. All the while my husband lay still sleeping and apart from the soft sound of dripping water the world around me lay quiet for a long time too. I kept thinking that these kinds of moments of quiet peace and simplicity are all one could ever ask for on a morning like this.

Thank you Goddess for the blessing of a quiet and graceful new beginning.

A Life full of Rain and Wild Flowers

Life feels slow and quiet these days. In the mornings, I’ve been waking up to the gentle sound of spring rain falling. A soft stillness seems to have settled on everything. The garden is wet, green and happy for having her thirst quenched after a long dry winter. The herbs are thriving and the bougainvillea is in full bloom. It’s the type of grey weather fit for staying in bed, reading and drinking loads of tea and cocoa, which is exactly what I’ve been doing. It feels good to allow myself this space and quiet time.

I’ve been enjoying bringing the gifts from the garden into my home to uplift the energy too – bougainvillea flowers, basil blossoms and twigs of cedar. Each day I find something new. I keep remembering how much I longed for this during the six years that I lived in a flat. I longed for a garden and a deeper connection with the earth. My heart ached because I felt disconnected from such a profound part of my wild essence. Now I feel so grateful and blessed to have my small garden, my little corner of the Earth to nurture my heart.

IMG_20141110_160942 — Fresh Bougainvilleas from the garden

Cedar twigs and basil blossoms from the garden. Such uplifting blessings.

At night, I’ve been falling asleep listening to the soothing voice of poet Vigdis Garbarek’s The Daring Deed. It’s like manna for my soul. I discovered Garbarek’s work over on The Little Forest Flower blog. A quote of the poet’s work that Anne shared really touched something in my. Garbarek’s words are like a dreamy meditation seeping into my consciousness as I drift off to sleep at night.

Yesterday, my husband and I went walking at a nearby park, rain and all. We needed to get out for a while, breathe and take the freshness of the moist air into our bodies. It was beautiful and we stumbled upon so many stunning wild flowers. I saw some flowers that I haven’t seen since childhood, back when I’d spend hours playing in the veld and picking wild flowers. Life was so magical back then and it was just soul soothing to have rekindled that feeling on our walk.