Today I took my sobbing heart to dig some earth
With each forward motion I felt my pain release into her rich and warm body
I played and felt and digged and squashed the black softness of her flesh in my hands
I caught myself smiling as I lifted some carrots off the earth bed and like orange lanterns they shone bright straight into my heart
The smell of nourishment entered my senses
I bowed all the way touching her in gratitude to the release of pain
As I was leaving my heart weighed less with sorrow and more with content
Today I took my sobbing heart to dig some earth
I have rejected the idea of self-sacrifice especially after my being got fragmented post stepping into motherhood, which now is clear only came from a point of not fully understanding its meaning and purpose. It always felt like ‘what about me’? The position of a wounded part within, which always felt unseen and unheard, the part, which felt her needs were ignored and not met. Limited perspective.
It has recently grown into a wider understanding through looking at my mother’s life. I find it’s always valuable to look outwards for examples of self-sacrifice and what that shows and teaches us. There’s one crucial key to self-sacrifice and that is a firm personal choice and from there what follows is meaning making. They go together to be more precise.
On the surface it looks like she completely sacrificed her life for her husband and kids. It often begged a question ‘but what about her’. I am sure she asked that enough times herself in moments of despair and uncertainty, however, she always remained firm in her choice to self-sacrifice. We might ask why? And the answer is for the greater good, for better outcome all around, for happiness on a wider scale, which she could contribute to. It is her contribution to the wider good and her choice in sacrificing if necessary that carried her through life and, guess what, she remained happy throughout. It is from seeing others happy and content she drew her own happiness and contentment. That always remained her personal choice and one might even say her life purpose.
I have been waiting for this energy with anticipation and excitement after a densely packed and quite unpleasant and suffocating month of December. I have become aware there is a pattern of a certain vibration that shows up every year towards the end of the year. More to learn, unpack and transform. Great learning.
My lovely Yule altar, which I wanted to be simple and effective this year with colours of red and white, served well during dark times. I love Yule. Now it’s time for a change. I am ready. Everything that’s been is now gone and it feels good. There’s only today and a possibility of tomorrow.
January is an active, inspirational and creative time for me usually. I enjoy it usually and throw myself into work, projects being very focused, motivated and organised. This, I feel, is present again this year, but along with the ‘doing’ I am also including the ‘being’ vibration. Peaceful and soothing, soft and gentle, restful and meditative. Therefore for this time in-between now and Imbolc on the 2nd February my altar goes to my sort of ‘default’ presentation of peace and tranquility, Buddha like space which I love so very much. Colours are purple and white and the feeling is love, light and peace.
My intention is to go out there and grab life and do lots of exciting things, create beautiful musings and engage in writing and learning as much as I can, but also give myself space and time to be still, present, focused within and at peace with myself and the world.
Through the body, senses and heart space love heals
As he lays his head on her trembling chest she melts into the knowing of peace, calm and softness
Her sobs subside under the grounding energy of him
Her love ripples out as she receives love
the flow begins from one heart to another
They lay in unison of their connection
Deep, solid, ever lasting
As he lays his head on her chest
They join in union of sacred love
~ Raw Pagan
You touch my senses as I sit in solitude in the forest
Water takes me straight to the expansive lochs of your bosom
You contain and penetrate the essence of me
I weep, I run, I stop, I listen to the call that links my soul to thee
My breathing holds its flow as I hear your name and suddenly I am transformed into the old Cailleagh walking the hills and mountains with deer by my side
The smell of pit, bog, pine and vibrant heather feels like blood in my veins, warm and homely
The air in you is essential to my survival
My feet are deeply rooted in your landscape and my heart beats with every changing season. I wish to walk it till the end of time, till it’s my time to have my bones scattered amidst your beauty
I worked with a bereaved client at the beginning of my psychotherapy training called Margaret. She was 83 years old and what a force of nature she was. Such passion for life, such grit, commitment, devotion, determination and inner strength like I rarely have come across in life, perhaps, only of my own mother. She was Irish. I loved her stories of growing up on a family farm in harsh conditions and amidst complicated family dynamics, but a place so beautiful that whenever she spoke of it I heard a song full of beautiful lyrics and melody of her voice changing into a sweet poetry with each breath. Our relationship was pure enchantment.
Ireland, I seemed to love the place without knowing why or how, I felt I knew it on some level. I married an Irishman first time round. I found the accent musically pleasing and lulling to my senses. Margaret spoke of returning to the land at the age of 83 after the death of her husband. Connemara. Perhaps she’s there now.
Years later I find that particular place is calling to me. Ireland. Through very subtle feelings, round about connections and encounters and things I have read it is as if I am weaving a plan, a map that will eventually take me there. I remain in wonder and curiosity with a sense of peace of getting to know that land one day.
Perhaps it is the completion of the sacred Land trinity for me, the first two being Scottish Highlands and Snowdonia, Wales. Perhaps I am on a journey of rediscovering some Celtic heritage of the British Isles, the path of Druidry that yes, lives in my DNA.
What a joyous journey I often stop to reflect, the one with soul at the centre of it all and spirit that is held in the land, in nature.