Diving deeply into the sea of sensation

Waning Leaf Moon

For as long as I can remember, I have had this longing to live fully, to feel deeply. My soul thirsts for connection with something that is larger than myself, something Divine.

Many years ago, I looked for that connection with the Christian God, exalted and detached from His creation. But the strongest and most lasting connection came when I recognised the Divine within all beings, from the vastness of the Night Sky, to a blade of grass.

Of course, I am human, and none of us can or should live in a state of graced connection all of the time. But I will seek out moments of inspiration that flow between me and the birch tree in the garden, or me and the morning call of the mistle thrush.

Mistle Thrush (wikimedia commons)

Mistle Thrush (wikimedia commons)

Right now, finding those connections is more important than ever. If I am to co-operate with the spirits of this place to make a house and garden that are in harmony with the land, I need to be able to connect and listen deeply. It’s part of the job.

As I am beginning to do the work, I have found that I am holding back. I am not allowing myself to dive into the moments of connection as deeply as I would like. And the whispers of Westacre’s spirit remain somewhat distant and indistinct.

This is hardly new. I have always carried resistance to what is, to the here and now. It comes from experiences in childhood that told me that feelings were painful, and that the world was not to be trusted.

So as I sought connection with the spirits of Westacre this afternoon, I could feel that familiar block in my heart. I accepted its harness and roughness. Its discomfort. I needed to get past it.

With the Waning Moon, I called upon the Element of Water. I felt its liquid quality, its ability to seep through the smallest cracks. I anointed myself with it and let the clear water soothe me. And with that extra bit of help, I was able to move past the old discomfort in my heart and open up to the world around me.

The wind singing in the high ash trees. The warmth of the sun on my face – warm at long last. Birds singing their joy of life to the world. I sipped some of the water and with it, dived even deeper, becoming one with the flow of life around me. There, the voice of Spirit speaks clearly, and brings healing.

Do you speak to the beings that live around you? How do you do it? Are there any blocks that stop you from going deeper? How do you deal with them?

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  1. Liz said,

    5 April, 2013 @ 1:27 pm

    I surrender to the wind and the moon. However, care needed: last year I was in complete connection with the spring land one day and rolled over and broke my glasses.

  2. hilde said,

    5 April, 2013 @ 9:11 pm

    Ha! Liz, that’s a great story. It’s always a good idea to keep your roots firmly attached to the ground, even when surrendering to the dance of the more ethereal elements!
    So glad you’ve remembered the wind and the moon. I hope they are teaching you great things.

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