For the Love of Rhythm


It has been a busy few years. Beginning when I started our local Red Tent Temple in late 2010 and increasing in tempo a few years later, with becoming a Shamanic Priestess and a Shamanic Magdalene, learning to Journey, and continuing and expanding my work with young women and girls. Now I look forward to welcoming my first Shamanic Priestess Circle here at Four Oaks, am apprenticing a circle with Anyaa McAndrew several states away in Orlando, FL and plan to continue that apprenticeship next winter so that I can also bring the Shamanic Magdalene work to Four Oaks.

There has been a LOT of travel, a lot of time sleeping alone in beds away from my home, my kids, and my husband.

Home nurtures me as I nurture those who visit and live here. Home is where my roots are sunk deeply into the earth of my multi-generational homeplace. My mother and father, who stayed married until I was in elementary school, both live in homes that I can see from my yard, just a minute’s walk to either one. My eldest son lives next door and my eldest daughter lives catty-corner across our block which consists of a pecan orchard and a field. The room where I go to sleep each night beside my husband is the room where my paternal grandparents slept and loved and where each passed from this life to the next.

Home. Family. Roots.

So, while I love my work and enjoy the travel, home is where I feel most grounded, happiest, and content. A huge part of this contentment is the rhythm of the life my family and I have co-created, and continue to co-create with each day, week, season, cycle.

Most mornings I wake up, meditate, let the dogs out, have a smoothie and do yoga. Then I bathe. Not today. Today I have not taken my normal ritual bath and I haven’t missed it. This is because the other parts of my normal centering routine are in place and have been honored. This is because there is no agenda for today. Not one thing that I am scheduled to do unless I decide to do it, unless it is part of what I honor in my life.

Earlier I walked out into our vegetable garden, barefooted, wearing nothing more than an old skirt and a cotton camisole. Our bee hives sit at the back of our vegetable garden and I was careful not to step on any bees who might be visiting the clover or other blossoms as I walked. I picked tomatoes, an eggplant, peppers and looked without success for a cucumber large enough to add to our supper tonight. As I did this simple act of walking through the garden, picking the ripe offerings there, I was moved to sit down and offer my thanks and a giveaway of Reiki to the plants growing in our beds. I thanked the earth and plants, the nature spirits of honey bee, lady bug and dragonfly who fill our yard. I thanked the fairies, gnomes and the devas who keep watch. I offered pure and simple gratitude for the grace that is my life.

Upon rising, I felt into the earth with the soles of my (very careful) feet. The grass was loving my bare feet, honoring them by sticking like glue to my soles. The warmth oozing up from the dirt and grass felt wonderful and the stickiness was noticeable and surprising. I wondered if I would have to wash my feet when I came inside! But no, it was simple thankfulness that I felt the earth offering back to me, as if Mama Gaia were reaching up and holding me to her breast with hands made of sweet, green, summer grass.

I am often newly surprised at how this land honors me with its gifts but one barefooted step brings it all flooding in. Safety, abundance, grace.

Being at home and unscheduled gives me the opportunity to enjoy a rhythm of life that I set the tempo for. It is a slower rhythm than many would enjoy but one that works perfectly for me in rare spaces of time that I am free to do exactly as I please.

Home. Family. Roots.
Fairy. Gnome. Deva.
Grounded. Happy. Content.
Tomato. Eggplant. Pepper.
Dragonfly. Ladybug. Honey bee.
Safety. Abundance. Grace.
Pure. Simple. Gratitude.

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