look closely….a leaf inside a leaf….surrounded by leaves…magic…..
look closely….a leaf inside a leaf….surrounded by leaves…magic…..
P.R. Lowe, January 27, 2020
I love this quiet space in the mornings that I am often the receiver of…more often than not these days There have been “many-a-time” when I did not have this and would long for such a luxury (even when I was a child). No rhyme…no reason, no need to complain or explain to anyone (as the queen would say)….so why am I wasting this space thinking of people… so and so and so and so on (and OMG, is there actually a new one or two in the line up?) And did you really think I would name them here? Aside from being pointless, it would just place them in concrete blocks and set them about the garden forever; to stumble over? Let me get back to wonderland -faerie land, if you will, and my warm tea, and what is outside my window. And let me release and vanquish “the list” and the “to dos” that seem to be marching right along side all those faces and names like an army of ugly warring trolls determined to squash every flower in the meadow – in the valley – in the realm. And let me not think on it, dwell upon it, or write about it any more…my tea is tea is getting cold and the day burns bright down the garden path and into the woods, where all is as it should be.
A Prayer to the Trees
By P.R.Lowe copyright September 23, 2019
When You step into the woods and stay for awhile – still and quiet – another world begins to open up to you:
Open my eyes so I may see all that is before me
Open my ears that I may hear all that speaks to me
Open my heart so I may feel your presence where ever I go
Bibidi Bobidee Boo (from Diary of a Mad Hatter)
by P.R. Lowe, copyright September 24, 2019
Lately, in the midst of doing something, I will find myself in a sort of knot -a grimace on my face, muscles all balled up, teeth clinched – a sort of battle of will between me and some unseen someone who’s holding me back or trying to tie my hands behind my back – a knot of struggle and effort- like I am trying to break free from bands of restriction. And it doesn’t seem to matter what I am doing—even simple stuff like washing dishes, feeding the cat, getting groceries out of the car…its weird. Then usually, but not always, I’ll hear a gentle, soothing voice say, “Stop Struggling.”, like the faerie godmother from Cinderella has said “bibidee bobidee boo” and I do, and everything changes-my posture, my expression, the task before me and most especially my attitude…and I suspect the rest of my day (and potentially the rest of my life?). It is great! -not the “struggling” bit but the faerie godmother (person, being) who steps in to help and I am grateful for her (or him, or them or they).
…and I get the feeling that it is not something inherently wrong with me, that is… a character flaw, personality trait or malformed gene…that I am not alone in this unpleasant experience. From what I glean from the words and actions of other folk, it is happening to them as well. Sometimes when I go out into “the madding crowd” – especially at the gas pumps (“gateway to the evil kingdom”) or find myself in a box store check out line that is particularly brewing up some ill-will, I want to turn tale and run as fast as I can to the nearest hole in a tree and close the bark behind me….speaking of which…
…even the squirrels seem to be having difficulty maneuvering through the muck. Sometimes I find myself saying to one of them, “Relax little one, it’s okay.”…and perhaps what they hear is, “Bibidee bobidee boo!”
Maybe we should all get together and hold hands and sing, Bibidee Bobidee Boo
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In 1855 Chief Seattle warned the white settlers of America that “when the secret corners of the forests are heavy with the scent of many men” it would signal “the end of living and the beginning of survival.”
I came across the post below when I was looking at some comments….I found it to be a great reminder for myself, so I am repeating it for you….. Happy Solstice.
Holiday Message From the Trees
Posted on November 21, 2017 by walkingwithtrees
“Drop your shoulders…release the darkness…come out of the smog and into the light…relax your body and soul and spirit…be at peace with yourself and your world. copyright: Nov 21, 2017, P.R.Lowe
By P. R. Lowe, copyright© 6/24/2019
I awoke…(or did I?) and I was lying, outstretched, on the ground with my head resting on a man’s arm. He was also outstretched on the soft turf beside me. We were chatting about our future and if there might be any children in it. Twins, perhaps?
There seemed to be what was farm equipment of some sort near by and sweet earthy smells. We were in a good mood. We had been looking for our dog, Jack, all morning and our neighbor across the ridge had just found him and sent him sliding down the big hill behind the fence. We had laughed with relief and at Jack, looking so silly sliding on his butt with a goofy grin on his face.
There was a great feeling of joy and satisfaction in this place and time. I had no thought of ever leaving it…and yet I began to feel a sort of intrusion…although “intrusion” isn’t quite the right word (I’m not sure what is)….something was changing. It didn’t feel unpleasant, just unexpected and a bit unsettling. I began to feel something under my right hand…what was that?….a furry warm cat’s belly? and soft little paws caressing my fingers as I rubbed her belly? We had no cats!
Things around me began to feel less solid and a bit wavy. I concentrated on the man next to me and his voice and the cat was gone….but she came back…each time a little stronger and for a little longer. I opened my left eye just a wee slit….which felt strange as I thought my eyes were already open. It was like I had two sets of eyes…one here and one somewhere else (or was it the other way round?) I saw a pale violet substance floating above us…like a piece of sheer fabric…like the scarves they drape you with at the acupuncturist’s or the ones they sometimes use in dance. A veil, for lack of a better word. Actually “veil” is a perfect word, as it grew larger and began to float gently over everything… not touching, but just there hovering (I realized) between where I was and where I was going.
The violet hue began deepening and the cat’s presence was getting stronger… the man and Jack growing more transparent and purple until they were almost gone completely. I remember thinking “No! Don’t open the other eye! Stay where you are with this lovely man and your beloved dog, Jack!” But the eyes opened on another place and time. I was in my bed, in an entirely different world, rubbing my cat’s belly. Although the man and jack were still there. I could feel them more than see them, as the veil was darkening in color and everything had switched sides. I don’t know how else to explain it. I tried to hang onto them for as long as I could…it felt so good to be there with them. But I was passing through this “veil” and leaving them behind..or was it ahead? I was now solidly planted in my room, here and now.. feeling a bit bereft and wondering what “here and now” was…really?
Eventually all was gone except my bedroom ceiling, the fan blades going round and round and a sweet furry cat, named Gwynfedd by my side, purring as if to say, “I wondered when you’d be back.” I remembered it was Monday, there was no man or dog or farm here and I had a real-time (what ever that is) “to do list” that I really didn’t want to do.(So I’m writing this instead).
As the morning has progressed I’ve grown more solid in this place but also know a part of me, or another me is still with Jack.
The other place was not the USA, I don’t even think the man and I were speaking English and yet I understood him perfectly. It was all very vivid, very solid, very real. Where ever it was (is) I was happy and that’s what drew me there again. Or is “again” even correct? It’s not really back or forward, its more like in between. And that’s what I choose to call it …the other side of the veil. Passing through the veil.
I’ve had these experiences before, let’s call them trips, for they are NOT dreams… very different than a dream. These are real places that are in my past, in my future, or concurrently happening beside this me, here and now. They are all me. And some of them I have gone to more than once.
And I don’t always have to be sleeping to go.
Now in my “here time” kitchen,(what else to all it?) Gwynnfedd is softly mewing for her breakfast, and I am thinking of Jack and the man. I sigh hoping to see them again and start my day.