Into Soul
As our little wild home here in the cosmos has continued to spiral along her evolutionary path over the past couple of years, I have been doing the same along mine.
Like you too perhaps, in your particular way, I have been in the eternal work of deepening intimacy with my own place in this grand mosaic, divining what is mine to do (and what is not) and how my small universal speck of light might humbly serve the unfolding tumble of life on our planet more fully.
To guide me best, my ear is bent to the wise wandering whispers of underground streams and mycelial mysteries. I find myself returning regularly to the wellsprings of their ancient truths, quenching my thirst and fortifying my blood. Once revived by this chthonic architecture, I can return to human connections and community and also reap the unearthed, tangled beauty and bounty graciously shared with me by others there. While I see small signs of renewal everywhere too, we are in entropic, uninitiated mythic times. And even if, by some mercy, the 'what' and 'where' are already with me, the 'how' is almost always a magical moment-by-moment effervescing dance. So perhaps like for many of you as well, my steps are small and close to the ground.
In these past two years, this website has clarified and come online, and my Soul Work with others has deepened. This feels really good. More recently, a new workshop illuminating wild sources of more soulful relating has poked its head above ground. This too, feels quite delicious. I am looking forward to luxuriating and exfoliating in the emergent fields that are conjured through this.
I want to share the inaugural surfacing of this workshop with you here and invite you to consider if this in-person, 4-week evolutionary journey (with a small group of fellow explorers) feels aligned for you or someone you know. It begins in June. If you feel called at this time, please be in touch.
The Summer Day ~ Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean -
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down -
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
Photo credit: Devon Gillott Sessions Graphics: Physis Publishing