Thank you for this, Sarah. You have been through so much in the last year or two. (and that is just what I know about). And yet your beautiful spirit keeps rising to the top. It shines out and illuminates life for the rest of us. Thank you.
I like to imagine that as I breathe in the air from the woodlands on our property, that it is the Light of the Sacred. I breathe it in to every water molecule in every cell of my body, and I do this for as many times as it takes to fill me with vibrating Light. Then I begin breathing it out to my surroundings. Reciprocity.
Absolutely beautiful. As one who easily anthropromorphizes (did I just make that word up? .. you get what I mean) I regularly talk with all natural things in my environment. And I’m getting better at thanking the cheap mass produced stuff that somewhere within it carries atoms and molecules that came from the same star dust as you and me. Gratitude for everything is a genuine way to live, and it makes me even more delighted I came across your Substack whenever that was. You’re awesome.
And thank you Sarah for appreciating this marvelous living perplexity so beautifully :)
Heartfelt thanks as we occupy and appreciate this planet together.
🩷 Kindred spirit!
Thank you, Sara. I enjoyed reading this as I do most of your other musings. This one reminds me of my poem about querencia:
Taos
Taos is a tone, a lesson, a way of being.
Its song hums in earth, flora,
fauna, mountain, sky.
Its song inhabits the land.
Does the land imagine me,
shape me in its rhythms?
To know who I am:
reflected by the mountain,
chamiso, piñons, el cielo azul.
I am a visitor on this ancient land,
absorbed into the mystery
of the gorge that splits
the valley in half.
Its mythical beings lodge in my heart:
the pulse of the Rio Grande,
the clarity of the sky
the ancient presence.
The song of this place nurtures me,
changes me, humbles me.
El monte sagrado called to me,
pulled me to itself.
to make my home here.
Twice I have responded:
The first call in 1970,
to land next to Hog Farm.
“Back to the land”
an immigrant escaping middle America.
Then in 2018
Taos Mountain called me home.
Have I been in embryonic cocoon,
a 50 year gestation?
Julian Spalding February 2022
Thank you Julian, for sharing this beautiful poem. My favorite line, I think, is "Does the land imagine me,/ shape me in its rhythms? <3
Thank you for this, Sarah. You have been through so much in the last year or two. (and that is just what I know about). And yet your beautiful spirit keeps rising to the top. It shines out and illuminates life for the rest of us. Thank you.
Oh thank you right back Rue! 🩷🩷🩷
I like to imagine that as I breathe in the air from the woodlands on our property, that it is the Light of the Sacred. I breathe it in to every water molecule in every cell of my body, and I do this for as many times as it takes to fill me with vibrating Light. Then I begin breathing it out to my surroundings. Reciprocity.
GORGEOUS. I just fell in love with this process--thank you!
Absolutely beautiful. As one who easily anthropromorphizes (did I just make that word up? .. you get what I mean) I regularly talk with all natural things in my environment. And I’m getting better at thanking the cheap mass produced stuff that somewhere within it carries atoms and molecules that came from the same star dust as you and me. Gratitude for everything is a genuine way to live, and it makes me even more delighted I came across your Substack whenever that was. You’re awesome.
Oh thank you Teyani! Truly.
That was beautiful -- as are all your essays. Thank you for making me think about the beauty and energetic essence of everything around me.