“I’m so excited I have to share with you a wonderful, affirmative start to the year.
The most remarkable and ‘ordinary’ I can remember in my 50 odd years.
From giving myself Permission just naturally and without plan on the first day of the year I feel I have been seeing huge benefits. Grace’s wonderful blogs keep reminding me to see the positive things in the smallest incidents, the tiniest spot of beauty, the smallest step forward. Boy, does that work!
Each day I have given myself permission: to take a few minutes just breathing deeply in the garden, which is developing slowly into rediscovering my Reiki practice; to do a small job here or there as my hand falls on it, which has already shown a big shift in energy in my house and great big steps towards a better way of living; to accept and give love without questioning my right to it, which has culminated in a wonderful weekend with family and friends – no negative spikes or doubts; to walk my dogs around the green before bed, which has offered me a wonderful view of my place at night; to just DO!
All this might be invisible to the naked eye of a casual observer but is shining in the eyes of my nearest and dearest every day. We marked it, almost by accident, on the night of the full moon with permission to stay outside and enjoy Her.
Tom dug a big fire pit (he’s the fire master of our home) in the garden on a the site we have earmarked to turn into our next deep bed for the Spring. He had gathered and sorted a huge amount of unusable wood scraps, left overs from the time the puppies were rampaging all around the garden, bits that couldn’t be cut for our indoor fire, and tree/shrub roots. He fed it and tended it for several hours while Cass and I enjoyed and marvelled.
The night was so still, no more gale force winds. It was so clear, a cloudless sky with the moon blazing in glory. It was so dry, not even the fine half rain we Britons are so used too.
We ate soup outside, contrasted the sound of water from a neighbour’s garden with the intensity of heat from our fire, watched the Douglas Fir branches dance with the sparks rising on the hot updraft, chatted, fed the fire, and gazed and gazed and gazed.
If you know the magic of a live fire you know how awesome and enchanting that is.
As the fire began to die down a little Tom went to ease his weary body indoors but Cass and I stayed on and I thought about all the things I could have wrapped and cooked on such a huge bed of ultra hot embers.
Then Cass remembered her Wish Tree. Grace gave it to her as part of her birthday celebration and she has been waiting to see if the right moment came to….do something with it. This was the moment. Under the beautiful full moon with it’s shining aura she read out all the wishes we had offered her, gave them and the ‘tree’ to the fire and we blew in some of Grace’s wishing powder. The smells of the fire combined with wonderful rich scents of spices.
Many synchronous things happened in that long quiet night. All small, only there for those who were taking time to look, listen and enjoy.
After our little ritual we covered over the bed of hot coals with damp leafy detritus which would not have been much help to the compost heap but acted as a damper for the fire. Then remembering past experience we covered that with soil from the same bed, as a kind of lid on the pot. The fire was secure, no threat. The puffs of wind that began to rise couldn’t carry sparks to any place where they would be unwelcome, there was no smoke.
But the fire was hidden, not dead. It’s working away still, two days later, sterilising the soil laid over it for use in potting compost, adding to the stock of potash to enrich the garden, cooking any perennial weed roots that might threaten this years crops.
It’s working away secretly. All that can be seen are wisps of smoke seeming to rise from the earth itself, a mini volcano busy underground.
I know I will see it’s contribution when the growing season starts, just as I know I am seeing growth stemming from a long period of simmering hidden activity inside me.
Thank you and as the I Ching likes to remind us – greatness in small measures.” – Julia – Usk, Monmouthshire.