(This is a repost from last November that, given America’s recent election and the Shadow Masculine sweeping the presidential stage, poised against the holiday of Thanksgiving, seems timely and appropriate to share again. ～ LRH) The sea is rumbling and agitated. Even a half mile away in a quiet neighborhood dense with evergreen trees, I hear its
I heard a thrum of wings behind me and turned to see a Western scrub jay atop the tall, wooden front gate. “Hello, lovely,” I smiled, and continued with my Qigong practice, barefoot on the cool red bricks. For a moment he sat there, observing, possibly looking for the dogs, then flew just over my
The sea is rumbling and agitated. Even a half mile away in a quiet neighborhood dense with evergreen trees, I hear its low voice, timeless and primordial, louder than normal. I have been feeling restless, myself, and burdened by carrying a basket of grumbles that I wish I could lay aside. What I need is to sit
It never fails. Even after a relatively short immersion in the wild, I am transformed. When I started up the dusty path from the trailhead, I felt constricted in a calcified shell of containment; irascible, burdened, and somewhat prickly (think:
Amid the trees, the dry, herbaceous aromas of the lower canyon trail transform. Here the air is not only cooler by several degrees but suddenly tinged with mossy notes and a scent of green-tea, catapulting me to other places and other wanderings.