Tag: nature
Treasures

Treasures

By |

Sometimes our greatest treasures are those we forget we have.

The poem scribbled on a scrap of paper.

A rock from a stream where the elk appeared from dark, green woods.

A shell found on the beach during that amazing sunrise.

The white horse appearing as if by magic.

Sunrise at the prehistoric fort in Ireland.

Using our bank account balance or the amount of cash in our hand to measure wealth will surely lead us to misery, even if they are filled…because then we worry they won’t be.

Our real, lasting treasures are those that are priceless. This is the wealth upon which we truly build our lives.
All is Well…at the Center

All is Well…at the Center

By |

No news reports are broadcast in my home or on the computer or any electronic device and yet it trickles in through word of mouth and social media. If I search out news, it’s from sources I trust…proven journalists that research their stories and refuse to report what has commonly become known as fake news.

Even with these protocols in place, it is impossible not to notice that the poop is hitting the proverbial fan in our country. Assaults on the environment, the middle class, wildlife, domesticated animals, children, women, those with different sexual orientations, people of any color other than white, those who fall in the 99% of wealth, rivers, oceans, sacred places….there is not one dimension of life in our country that isn’t being assaulted or threatened.

The struggles we have already been through over hundreds of years are happening again and they are compressed into one place in time. It gets overwhelming on a daily basis. I cannot imagine how it must feel for those actually watching news broadcasts and having those fights and negative voices echo through the sacred walls of their homes.

It is challenging to stay informed and stay sane.

I refuse to be uninformed and uninvolved although the temptation is certainly there. It’s much easier to numb-out, be in the world asleep. But I can’t do that. Yet….there has to be balance. Too many angry emoticons on FaceBook makes Simone a withered shell of a person.

Recently we experienced several days of rain and cold weather so cycling was not an option. I continued being outside in nature doing three mile walks even when it was pouring rain and cold. It was my grasp at sanity. I wasn’t able to pound on the pedals and whirl away 20 miles of crazy for a week, so I had to adapt.

Never before have I felt the hollowness of living alone so acutely and painfully. Missing the companionship, friendship and love of an understanding man has prompted me to spend more time outdoors seeking the stillness and quiet of the forests, beaches and open spaces.

Standing in a small forest of trees with soft, pine needles underfoot and rain drops bouncing off my rain parka, I found balance. Walking by the headwaters of the Magnolia River with fog rising from its slow-moving water, I found peace. Walking my canine friend in the snow…his first ever….and watching his reaction, I found laughter. Walking bundled in winter clothes on the beach with a friend, I found companionship. It took work, but I found balance amidst the chaos….or as close as I can get given the circumstances.

I’ve always loved nature, but if you’re reading this you probably know this about me. My life is dedicated to sharing the beauty of the planet. However, lately I have found it absolutely necessary to step away from screens and be outside. Even if it’s sitting on my porch and watching it rain or walking in the neighborhood….nature gifts me with healing and balance in an ever-challenging world.

Nature responds to our reaching out. Be still, listen. Open your mind and heart. In the deepest place of silence, all is well.
Véineas agus an Ghealach

Véineas agus an Ghealach

By |
Pre-dawn in Árainn, Ireland….I’m still dreaming of being there.

I woke at 5am and rushed to put on my cycling clothes along with a Smartwool undershirt. It was the first crisp day to ride of the best riding season of all on the Alabama Gulf Coast….which is ANY time the humidity drops below 80% and the mornings are crisp.

As I pulled onto the highway with my bike loaded on the back of the car, the sliver of the crescent moon hung very low in the eastern sky with venus in perfect alignment beneath it. The crescent was horns up with the dark of the moon creating a perfect circle above it. And there was a red planetary body to the right of the moon. The triangular alignment was spectacular. It made me think of a delicate silver moon necklace with a small chain hanging down dangling a brilliant diamond beneath it.

All the way to the state park I watched the beautiful firmament. Stars twinkled and all seemed to point to the incredible dance of the moon, Venus and Mars.

When I stepped out of the car, the chilly wind caught me by surprise but not nearly as much as the constellations shining so brightly overhead. I attached lights to my bicycle, put on my shoes, helmet and jacket and took off into the darkness.

One of the many, many moments of bliss I discovered within myself in Ireland.

Immediately I recognized the feeling and it was the first time, since returning from Árainn, Ireland, I felt it. Stars, chilly air, darkness, nature…..ah…..laughter erupted as I pedaled. It was awesome to be able to find my bliss again and find home in my skin.

After such a powerful time of travel and adventure, there is often a time when the big energy that built with the experience collapses and life returns back to a place that wasn’t so awesome. But the changes and leaps made in Ireland continue to propel me forward. The energy of change and growth remains strong and the renewal gained there is clear and bright.

Véineas agus an Ghealach….Venus and the Moon reminded me how my wild woman self loves stars whether under pine trees with a humid breeze or on rocky shores of the Atlantic Ocean. May I continue to dance with wild abandon to the untamed heart within me.
An Lá Foirfe, II

An Lá Foirfe, II

By |

All day…at every turn….the vision I cultivated during the week manifested over and over again in real time. It took sincere effort to be open to receive such splendor and beauty….a real inner stretch was involved.

I stood up to leave Dún Dubhchathair and offered sincere gratitude before I walked back across the fields of karst. And I might have asked for guidance on the way back as there was no trail….just acres of rocks with small patches of grass interspersed among the gray limestone and I had to walk over a kilometer back to the exit point…a stile in a rock wall surrounded by rocks and rock walls.

I made it out of the field of crazy rocks and down the hill to my bike. The pack carrying my camera was quite heavy so I opted to return it to the B & B and take a cycling route I knew from walking the long distance from Kilmurvey House on the other end of the island.

The coastal road provided a nice opportunity to stretch my legs and trust the rickety, rented bicycle wouldn’t fall apart on the downhills. I wore my helmet and bright green cycling jacket. And the cycling nerd in me also packed my headlight and taillight. One of the funniest moments of the trip happened on that ride.

I turned around near Kilmurvey Beach and was enjoying a quiet ride back to Killeany. In the distance I saw three farmers and one of their wives standing in a pasture chatting. All four heads turned and watched me….lights flashing, green jacket, helmet…as I approached and followed me as I passed. No one said a word but I laughed at their facial expressions. You see, a lot of bicycles are rented by tourists and in the week I was on the island I saw only three or four helmets…which is really scary considering the narrow roads, rocks and wide tour vans. I’m still wondering what those four islanders said after I passed….She’s probably seen the drivers here….She must be American… This isn’t the Tour de France. 

By the time I arrived back at Joe Watty’s pub, the final ferry had taken the tourist crowds away so I parked my bike and had a seat at the community table. The local elders were enjoying the evening. It was a Saturday night, after all. There was laughter, a bit of drinking and merriment of the nicest sort. I felt so happy to witness such friendly banter while enjoying a delicious meal and dessert. The raspberry and rhubarb crumble is the best dessert I have ever eaten….anywhere. And it wasn’t just because I had skipped lunch.

After cycling back to the B & B, I decided to end the day by walking up to Teampall Bheanáin–where my pilgrimage began a week ago. But this time I left the big camera and walked lightly. And I didn’t stop at the chapel. I walked all the way to the ocean.

And another surprise unfolded with yet another magnificent view of high cliffs and sea and rocks. I sat on the rocks and began my goodbyes. The weather was turning the next day and the winds were due to pick up the following afternoon so I had changed my shuttle ride and ferry to the morning, instead of later in the day.

It was difficult to start my goodbyes. I sang to the sea. Thank-yous poured from my heart. There was great sadness yet a feeling of incredible support to return back home and continue my work.

As I came down the steep hill from the chapel I felt immense energy coming with me. I felt taller and felt the support of the Ancestors…like Silver Lights. It was a tremendous energetic presence. And it stayed with me as I walked down the street, into the B & B and all the way home. It was like I left something hidden on Árainn long, long ago knowing I would find it when the time was right.

Drifting off to sleep that night I felt the white horse against my face, her warmth and sweet, horse smell made me smile. The energetic presence that had followed me down the hill surrounded me as I journeyed into the dreamtime.

With the strength of the Ancestors I walked with courage into a chaotic world as I left Árainn. Rocks grounded me to Mother Earth. The sea carried me on waves of power. Wind lifted me to heights I could scarcely imagine. Fire of the sun lit the way.

I don’t know what I most miss of Árainn. Sweet bird song among thickets of tightly woven shrubs; craggy, sheer cliffs dropping into the sea; prehistoric stone structures constructed 3500 years ago; green, thick, lush grass; wind that whips and flattens everything in its path; rain that falls in sheets as it moves across the island; soft sand that feels like powdered sugar under bare feet; the sea….the land…the Spirits.

It was a foggy ferry ride back to the mainland of Ireland the next morning. It felt appropriate to hide Árainn in the mist, in the magical mist.

It’s not about changing the world. It’s about opening more to the wisdom found in Nature….its cycles, seasons and persistence speak to me.

Go raibh maith agat, Árainn…..Thank you, Árainn.

—

An Lá Foirfe….The Perfect Day.