Occasional Writings
For blog posts focusing on health and well-being (and Bowen therapy), please head here
|
Early morning. Quiet. Dark. A gentle fog blanketing the nearby hills of Mt Misery. Heavy rain overnight leaving the houses and neighborhood cleansed from the dust and debris. A perfect time to meditate. I meditate every morning, but this morning I was up early, not able to sleep past the early morning dreams. So candles lit my way as I sat in quiet contemplation. I was thinking about the creative healing workshops I offer, excited by the prospect of holding one for a client and her friends. I had offered a workshop on the weekend, but not enough interest resulted in it being cancelled. This scenario can get discouraging. But it's all part of what I do and what I offer. Sometimes it resonates and sometimes it doesn't. And sometimes it resonates down the track and comes back in the most unlikely place or way. I opened my eyes just in time to see something jumping in the shadows, coming towards me from under my alter. A frog. My first impulse was a small amount of terror - how will I get it out of this space since my husband isn't home to save me from the creature? But that is quickly surpassed by a smile and gratitude. What a gift to have this amphibian in my sacred space! But I've only got myself to rely on to get him out. And as lovely as it is to have him visit, he can't stay. How did he get here, in this furthest space from any door? I need a container to catch him and all I have is my water glass, which ironically has a sticker on it which says sacred. The water glass is full so I try to empty it by drinking it - this is never going to work. It's way too early in the morning to be chugging water. And I don't want to leave, for fear of not finding the wee frog in amongst all that litters this space. I move to the window and open it. We have no screens so I dump the water outside. Then capture the frog in its sacred and mobile aquarium of sorts. He stretches his long legs against the glass as I pick it up and move to the window. He is happy to hop out and makes the long drop to the ground to hop away to tell his story to his tribe about this freaky white woman who tried to eat him! But he escaped through sacred space and lived to tell the tale. Phew! I grab the animal cards to read about Frog. Before I even get to the page, I remember Frog is Cleansing. There is talk of tears and releasing and water and rain. And how without rain, everything dies. And how our tears are sacred and shouldn't be hidden or shunned. Crying is a release and through release, such as rains or tears, new life can begin. And I am reminded of the frustration I sometimes feel when what I offer isn't taken up. How the tears flow and how I can't verbalise what is going on for me but crying always seems to clear some channel which helps make everything look brighter. For me the frog was a reminder that all is well and as it should be. After rain comes growth. After tears comes a brighter day.
0 Comments
First of March. First day of autumn. And with it...rain. I love rain and I love the introspective days that rain can bring, especially when I have time and space to enjoy them. I love being self-employed and therefore able to schedule my days with some sort of flexibility. So most days I am able to balance life and work and rainy day adventures. (Or sunny day adventures, should ever the sun decide to grace us with its presence again!)
I moved to NSW in 2001, to a job in horticulture. I was positioned in Young and I used to joke that I brought the drought with me. It was a tough 7 years in that district, especially for farmers, and I vowed that when the drought broke (after I had moved districts to Mudgee) that I would never again complain about rain. So a couple of years later, when I spent 5 months in the eastern US during a June where it rained 26 days of that month, I kept my promise and instead of complaining about the mould growing on shoes and walls and books and things, I bought a good rain coat and learned to talk with the ducks who had taken up residence in a pond which had formed next to our hut. So what do we do with 'when it rains, it pours'? How do we bring into balance something which isn't? How do we go from drought to flood, with love grace and ease? By maintaining the inner balance we all have within us. By remembering that this too, shall pass. By remembering one extreme, while heavily in the other, and standing strong in the middle of it, if only in our imagination. By remembering we, like the land and nature, are resilient. And through chaos comes change. And through change comes growth. And through growth comes balance. Eventually and if we let it. |
Susan Marte
I love the power of story and story telling and writing is an integral part of my healing journey. More about me here. Archives
June 2023
Categories
All
|
RSS Feed