Threads
He stood at the edge of the swamp–antlers upright, eyes staring at me. It was the briefest of glances but I still remember the steam rising from the murky water and streaming from his nostrils as he sniffed and snorted. Magnificent, strong, ruler of his domain, the encounter with the buck has remained burned into my memory…in my heart….and every time I pedal past that gap in the trees I glance to see if he is there. Five years ago…and he’s still there in my mind.
After slowly awakening this morning, I picked up my iPad to check email and realized that for over six years I have opened email in the morning expecting a message. A message from him. I didn’t realize that simple act of finger touching glass was an act of hope. Why this came to consciousness today I don’t know. There is no pining away or waiting for him…I go on with life…so it was a surprise that there’s still the hope lingering….hanging like a thread. I had no idea…
Years pass yet there are imprints…people, animals, places…that simply don’t fade or lose their importance. The connection I have with Nature is like that…and those threads, once pulled, take me to humpback whales, elk, coyotes, dolphins, manatees, tiny reef fish, sea turtles, sunrises, sunsets, purple mountains, cliffs and seascapes, rocks. Once pulled, these threads always lead me back home–to my soul, my true self–the little girl who talked to nature spirits and animals.
And that’s where I find myself these days….embracing that nature child whose wisdom is intact, who knows that Oneness isn’t just a flaky idea, who still hugs trees and talks to whales and dolphins and manatees….and spirits that few others feel.
The Magical Nature Child…all roads lead home to Her. Every thread of memory weaves the tapestry of life that is Her playground, Her sacred realm. This then is where compassion and kindness reside and love for all life is treasured. This then is the place of beauty and sacredness for all life…it’s where instinctual wisdom blooms like a lotus blossom every time I sink my toes in the mud.
From my journal, March 15th…One thing stood out from the afternoon–I need more time underwater. You know my gills are dry when floating in cold, green water brings immense contentment.
For months I have felt change coming. I knew I would sell my large, beautiful home nestled under grandmother live oak trees and move but had no idea where. I thought it would be a local move but nothing was clear. In meditations I kept hearing to wait until March and the answer would come.
I was scheduled to be in Crystal River for a book signing mid-March so loaded my kayak and camera gear, wet suit, dry suit and a few clothes. After arriving I was on the water, paddling in high winds, just 30 minutes after a 7 hour drive. After half-hour paddle I was underwater.
Being with manatees always changes me, helps me ground into my life more and the connection in March helped me get clear about my next step….more underwater photography regularly. My intention to document and share the beauty of nature deepened. And in the process of determining the next step in my life, another passion has arisen.
As I deepen my commitment to be underwater more and share the story of our water planet, I renew the intention to create a sanctuary with land, trees and a home that calls me….somewhere near High Springs, Florida. Fears creep in and questions about how it will all come together, but when that happens I drift back in my mind to the cold, green water and manatees that reminded me where my heart beats happiest.
I have built a strong foundation of work on the Alabama Coast and that will remain solid as my work expands and deepens into the flow of freshwater springs and quiet rivers. The voice of the soul moves us ever-closer to perfect alignment with our purpose if we dare to listen.
The Calling
Particles of light
Eons of time and space
Aching with love
Compelled by the
A journey begun,
~ Simone Lipscomb
So close to making it to the beach for sunrise but alas that amazing orange orb rose over the swamp as I pedaled. It didn’t matter. It was still an outstanding start to Spring. And was still low enough in the sky at the beach to offer very nice light for a couple of phone photographs.
I felt my life begin to open last weekend with manatees, kayaking, a book signing at Franklin Anderson Gallery of Art and a visit with an old friend. Laughter with my friend, water, sea cows and a family of artists I met were Spring tonics. Clarity began to ease the old stuck places into motion and it feels as if my life can breathe once again.
This is the magic of Spring. Not first stirrings but all-out growth bursting forth.
