Category: Nature

Green to Blue

Green to Blue

By |

A few weeks ago I began to realize that I was leaving the mountains of western North Carolina. I mean really realize that my time here was growing short. As I explored my connection to the land, pulling on one thread of the tapestry of my life unraveled awareness that has helped me understand and prepare for the leap to big water.

About that same time, a friend of mine was having an art opening in downtown Asheville so I decided to attend. The night of the gallery reception I was chatting with my artist friend and a friend of his walked up with a musical instrument case. There was a Celtic music event around the corner at Firestorm Books that started in about an hour. It gave me time to walk next door and eat at Tupelo Honey, one of my favorite Asheville restaurants.

It was a small venue but the music….the MUSIC! Only in Asheville, I thought. One duo sang a song that touched the heart of my grief and almost perfectly described my move from mountains to shore. A few of the lyrics are below (here’s a link if you’d like to listen).

Don’t turn to the green hills of Antrim
Fermanagh’s behind you, it’s time to move on.
Look onwards to Glasgow, and all your tomorrows
The future lies there, and it’s waiting for you.
As the green crosses over to meet with the blue.

If the wings of the eagle could carry you over
To the lands of the prairie, then surely you’d fly
But an ocean so wide, and a distant country
So far from your own land is no place to die.

So don’t turn to look on the green hills of Antrim
Fermanagh’s behind you, it’s time to move on.
Look onwards to Glasgow, and all your tomorrows
The future lies there, and it’s waiting for you.
As the green crosses over, as the green crosses over,
To meet with the blue.

One morning as I approached my favorite view from the mountain, the green valley below unfolded surrounded by towering mountains that arose from the far side. The words from the chorus came singing through my soul: As the green crosses over to meet with the blue. And I thought of the Irish and Scottish people who were the first white settlers in this area and how they must have loved this land for it looks so similar to many places from their home countries. Then I thought about my own heritage and connection to Cornwall and the beauty of green hills stopping at the blue ocean and knew in that moment that my soul was calling me back to big water, to blue water. And I knew peace.

I am not sure what work will unfold for me along the Gulf Coast, but with everything I know and am, it is the exact right next step for my path, for me. Being land-locked for almost 20 years has served a purpose and now it’s time to go home.

My heart is big enough to love both mountains and ocean yet I have a strong desire to help the Ocean and all creatures who live in and around it. It’s geographically challenging to do that from 2300 feet above sea level, perched on the side of a mountain. I want to feel the sand between my toes, breathe the salt air and plant my roots once again in more southern latitudes where the vast expanse of the Gulf of Mexico calls me to my life’s work.

I won’t turn to look back on the green mountains, Asheville’s behind me, it’s time to move on. I look onwards to the Gulf and all my tomorrows, the future lies there, and it’s waiting for me. As the green crosses over to meet with the blue.

I launch April 3rd….it’s time to move on.

Dance of Beauty

Dance of Beauty

By |

I stood transfixed listening to wild turkeys vocalizing across the creek. The distinct and loud gobble of a male followed by the yelp of a female. For days as I walked the Mountain, I have heard the calls, have seen a dozen hens roosting in the huge, white pines overhanging the small creek. Today I wanted to find out where the chorus of wild bird sounds originated.

Walking down the mountain, we decided to follow the pavement around to a road that followed the creek, far below where we stood listening. As we got closer, the verdant pasture that arose from the water was covered in wild turkeys. At least 9 fully-displaying males and over 30 females provided a glimpse into the spring equinox celebration of these amazing creatures. It seemed that two or three small groups had joined together in one large group of courtship and scouting-for-potential-mates.

I could write pages recording emotions I felt as I observed, but it still would not express the sheer joy and sense of awe I felt as the tom’s spread their massive tails into fans and puffed their chests and dropped their wings while dancing with one another. Watching from the high bank of the rushing water, standing among delicate trout lilies, breathing fresh air while seeing the morning sun sparkle off iridescent feathers….how could life get much better than this? Such beauty of color, sound, movement.

Two-by-two the males walked up the pasture to the top of the ridge. I saw only beauty, breathed only beauty and lifted my heart with gratitude for this amazing experience, this profound rite of spring.

Passion to Proceed

Passion to Proceed

By |

I am sitting at the counter at my mom’s kitchen gazing out at Mobile Bay. Just a pause before writing.

I’m presenting a program at Gulf Shores Library tomorrow morning and was reviewing my A/V presentations to see which one I’ll use. In reviewing my library of programs one I put together showing the worst part of the oil spill at the Gulf Shores, Alabama area caught my attention. Tears poured down my face as I watched and recalled vividly the heartbreak experienced by so many of us that love this area. And then I felt a surge of passion and love for the Gulf Coast that caused a transcendent moment to spontaneously occur within me. It provided an amazing moment of clarity that sealed the deal, so to speak, for my move back to the Gulf Coast.

Over a decade ago I felt called to return to the Gulf Coast to work but as I stood on the shore with warm, salty waters lapping over my toes, I heard in my mind…’Not yet…but you will know when to return.’

When the oil spill first happened and very often for 18 months, I made the trip from Asheville, NC to coastal Alabama to document…to WITNESS what what happening here. I felt the call to return but I didn’t expect to move back. Little-by-little, however, I felt that this was the big leap needed to fulfill a promise I made to the Gulf those many years ago.

A few months ago I put my mountain home ‘on the market’ and waited. Within these past two weeks everything has begun to come together. Two incredible people have connected with “The Cathedral of Trees” and immediately understood the power of the home and land I have been blessed to call home for over five years. They decided to become the new owners of this special place. And just yesterday, I finalized a contract on a nice cottage home near the Magnolia River that will nurture me and my work as I leap back to the headwaters of my life. The place of my birth.

With every major change in life there comes anxiety and fear and those emotions were doing their best to rattle me. But when I reconnected with the immense love and passion I have for the earth, specifically this area of amazing beauty…my coastal Alabama home…all doubt was erased and the anxiety and fear begin to diminish.

I have dedicated my life to help our beautiful water planet. How thrilled I am to feel doors opening so that I can continue my work here, in this sacred place. There’s a song that has been my theme for this next stage of my life as it unfolds…Homeward Bound….”Set me free to find my calling and I’ll return to you somehow.” My heart is very, very full and I am so grateful.

One Simple Thing

One Simple Thing

By |

Yesterday as I was driving through the mountains of North Georgia I had a thought–what if a large group of people all over the planet decided to change the world for the better by adding 5 minutes a day of stillness to their daily routine?

I had been considering the degradation of the environment, the constant bickering in politically polarized rhetoric and my general belief that humans are self-destructive. Where else could negative behavior and negative, violent thought processes and dogmatic belief systems lead but to self-destruction? So I had this incredibly simple idea.

Perhaps skeptics might suggest that this sort of action would be wasted. But I was thinking about how millions of people are creating change through social media and the connection we have instantly to the global human population. Why couldn’t we decide to dedicate 5 minutes a day to stillness and silence? It couldn’t hurt anything and it quite possibly could make a positive difference.

In June of 1999 a peer-reviewed study was carried out in Washington, D.C. Over 4000 practitioners of meditation were housed in various locations within the DC area from June 7th through July 30th. Each day they practiced slowing their mental activity and coming to a place of inner stillness. This created within the meditators a sense of balance, order, and harmony. During this time violent crime (assaults, murders, rapes) decreased 23% in the area in which they were practicing. There was less than a 2 in 1 billion chance that other explanations (weather, increased police patrols, daylight, historical crime trends and annual violence patterns) accounted for the difference, according to John Hagelin, lead author of the study from the Institute of Science, Technology and Public Policy.

How is this possible? Through the past 25 years, researchers have conducted more than 42 studies that have verified the field effect of consciousness. Advanced understanding of physics shows that subtle energy fields are a basis of everything around us. Conclusion drawn by researchers? Human consciousness also has field characteristics at fundamental levels. The meaning? What we experience, think, feel, do affects everything around us.

When we think we are powerless to the insanity unfolding daily, it’s good to remember we actually can make a difference. Not by arguing a point, ranting on Facebook, name-calling people who hold different views….simply by coming to stillness, by allowing a time each day where we free ourselves from judgment, anger, politics, arguing…we can make a difference.

What if people from all over the planet decided to stop and drop into stillness? What if we dropped all words for 5 minutes a day and sat and allowed ourselves to be still and breathe? What if we stop the mental chatter, the mind games, and let go of our own opinion for 5 minutes a day?

I believe this one simple thing could change the world. What about you?

In Ways I Can’t Explain*

In Ways I Can’t Explain*

By |

A few years ago I stood on this hill overlooking the Atlantic Ocean and felt my bones vibrate with resonance of the land. For the first time in my life, I felt I belonged in a way I’ve never belonged to any other place on the planet. I was in Devon, England.

Later that week, a beautiful elder of the area told me the Lipscomb’s (Lypscombe) were from Devon. When I returned home I looked up a family history cousins had compiled and found that Ambrose Lypscombe was from the Devonshire line and lived in Silverton, England. He was born in 1610. His son, Ambrose I, arrived in Virginia around 1668 (called New Kent County). And the lineage progressed forward through the years as my ancestors found their way to the Alabama coast.

As I prepare to move away from the mountain that overlooks this beautiful valley, I have reconnected with my intense love of the land here. As I was approaching this area on my morning walk a few days ago, a new song I had downloaded started playing on my iPhone and suddenly everything made sense. David Wilcox sings about wanting to go to Ireland and his lyric made me stop and breathe in the significance, *”My heart is here in ways I can’t explain.”

I have pondered the deep connection I have to the Blue Ridge Mountains and the Alabama Coast. I love both places dearly and completely. I feel torn with my love of the sea and my love of the mountains.

When I thought back to my visit to Devon and Cornwall I realized that the ancestral link I have to the coast of western England is strong in my blood, in my DNA. The seashore of Alabama I love so well and the mountains of North Carolina are two similar aspects of a very significant place where my dad’s family originated. With the Wilcox song, everything clicked and I had a rather large ah-ha moment.

Understanding a bit more of my heritage gives me insight into my path now, specifically about the move south. I spent my entire childhood, teenage and young adult years wanting to get ‘back’ to the mountains. After finally moving ‘back’ I met people that provided assistance as I developed important tools for my life’s work. It was as if we arranged, before birth, to meet up on this mountain and catalyze ideas and skills. And now, I am better prepared to move forward with contributions I came to make.

The chances of me moving to England to live are rather slim; however, the inspiration it provides and the fire of love for the sea and mountains create within me the devotion necessary to commit fully to this Path I have chosen to walk.

We all make choices about how to invest our energy and talents. As I move forward in this life’s journey, my intention is to utilize the skills I have to help create positive change for life on this beautiful, water planet. I embrace the gifts the mountains and friends here have supported and helped cultivate within me and with gratitude take the leap back to the sea. I allow the ocean of life to carry me.

Lyrics from David Wilcox Ireland and Let the Wave Say:

I’ll speak the words of poets gone: my music’s ancestry
We’ll hear the voice of Ireland in the wind beside the sea
In waves of music far as I can see
The voice of every poet singing free:
Singing bring your orphan children home–to me
(from Ireland)

And the high blue wall can break you
You can never fight the sea
You just learn to let it take you
To the place you want to be (from Let the Wave Say)

I am ready to ride the wave back home. (Thanks David for the music…and wisdom!)