inner wild therapy

breathe dearheart, breathe

Archives (page 14 of 15)

Are you a bulb or a trumpeting flower?

Is it Spring in your neck o’ the woods? It is with me, inside and out.

Outside my window gentle wild primroses, regal purple pansies and sunshine daffodils are bursting out amongst the papery fading white crocus petals and vanished snowdrops.

I took this photo:  for you to see the glorious, flamboyant trumpeting daffodil I was looking at just now.

I was thinking about the deep renewal that Spring brings us. I am really tuned-in to this awakening and as it resonates with me I feel it all accelerating and gathering momentum.

I think the seasons bring us a natural cycle that is healing for us. We can be nurtured by simply noticing what happens during each season and perhaps mirroring the natural energy radiated by the plants, insects and animals.

In Spring we see glory vanquishing adversity everywhere. Brand-new ghostly shoots burst out of bulbs underground, pushing frost-hard soil aside with slow determination. Shoots poke through brown earth and turn instantly bright green in the sun’s rays, capturing energy for the flowering to come.

Amazing.

Hibernating animals awaken. Will we?

Birds gather twigs and soft nesting materials like our husky’s wool fur. We wrap his molted fur around a stick and hang it near the feeder. Tiny birds tease out little pieces of fluff until their beaks are so full – a ball of fluff bigger than their heads – that I don’t know how they can see where they are flying. But they seem to know what they’re doing.

It made me think how we humans are naturally part of the raw energy and renewal, the awakening and thrust for living that happens in Spring. I wonder, do our body cells respond in some biological way we don’t even know about? If we weren’t quite so wrapped up on layers of plastic and synthetics and the pressing needs of living in a modern city, drugs and foods to salve and suppress us – would we too feel the overwhelming, intense leap in sex-drive that other native mammals like hedgehogs are feeling in Scotland right about now?

It’s entirely possibly that modern issues with sex drive, and lack thereof, often appropriated to “stress” might be connected to our disconnect from natural seasonal cycles?

How about you? Do you think right now your inner self is like a tight, power-pregnated bulb buried deep down yet full of remarkable potential? Or are you beginning to stretch a tentative shoot? Perhaps you are already in gigantic, glorious, hallelujah bloom: a giant daffodil of a person trumpeting your wonders for all. Crikey, you might even be one of those folks dancing naked around a bonfire in an enchanted forest tonight!

You could, of course, be a dormant bulb. Nothing wrong in that. Squirrels need food and they love a dormant bulb. Otherwise, if you’re thinking of releasing your potential – now seems like a pretty good time to get growing and unfurl little flower. Nature is with you.

Image made by my daughter and I using Rosie Flo’s Garden colouring book.

Domestic archaeology <-------------- finding your buried treasures

[Have I just coined a new phrase? “Domestic archaeology” – I like it.]

Everyone loves finding treasure; it’s primal. It’s even more rewarding when it’s treasure you made yourself and forgot about. You mainly forgot about it because it was buried among the masses of stuff you have in your home. Dig through that stuff and you’ll find your very own buried treasures.

One of the sublime joys of decluttering is that when you declutter you simultaneously reframe all the things you have collected in your home. You look at everything with a fresh perspective and see it differently.

When you go through all your belongings, deciding what to keep and what to, ahem, ‘pay forward’ to the local charity shop or bin, you don’t just get a rush of feeling lighter by having less, you love the things you keep even more. You appreciate them. When you decide they can stay, they are the ‘chosen’ things, they are intrinsically allocated a higher status.

Like the little watercolor painting above, for example, which I made of my cat Mr Smoochy back in 1996. (I only know that because I cleverly wrote the date in the painting!) I found it in a tiny sketchpad in a box of books and papers.

I do not know why I am loving this little watercolor so much it now has pride of place in my kitchen. I suspect it has less to do with the fact that my Mr Smoochy died ages ago and much more to do with honoring something pretty that I made in a moment of whimsy – yikes, 14 years ago.

Now I look at it all the time and get little pangs of pure loveliness.

Out of my (fewer) piles of ephemera comes my little piece of art treasure.

Yeah, go through your boxes and see what beautiful things you’ve made in the past. Dig them out of the dark and enjoy them in the space and light you’ll create decluttering.

Image made by me.

This is important

It doesn’t matter what you’ve done in the past.

You are beautiful.

You are here. Alive. Aware. Capable of loving. And giving.

Image made by me.

Strip away, dearheart

Strip away your civilised layers. Feel who you really are, dearheart.

Liberate your inner wild.

Visit me often.

It’s going to be like a mad dodgem ride at the fairground; ideas and concepts slamming into you at awkward angles.

It’s OK. I know what I’m doing. You’re safe(ish) with me.

Image borrowed from perfectshade. Thank you for making the world more beautiful.