This dream Renee, so poignant as you emerge seemingly from one world and into another. Mountains are strong, they show me their muscles, mountains are sacred, they show me their sage, mountains are the very metaphor for life. We look up, we hesitate, we climb and sometimes we fall. Yet the mountain is here to catch us all. As you so beautifully described your experience it is the life force of the landscape and I believe has held you on your journey. Witnessing your bravery, your courage, your stamina, so that you are the mountain. A sigh of relief. 💫🙏
As is often the case when I encounter your reflections, l encounter myself wordless. You have given us MOUNTAIN . . . "the very metaphor for life," holding us, witnessing us, catching us when we fall . . . free-falling into anewness.
Renée; A poem for you as you slowly head east toward home. "We fist up to weather the days, though no one told us it has to be that way. We just constrict, to keep what is tender from being hurt. If blessed, we crack and are pried open till the heart like an oyster shows its softness. Opened by time, we are more humble, more fallible, able to trip more easily into joy. Who would have guessed that this softness between us glitters like the stardust that it is, and who would have guessed that offering what is tender, is what saves us."--Mark Nepo
Welcome to British Columbia Sweetie! May our beautiful province hold you in its sacred embrace and guide you safely south.
Thank you for sharing this amazing and powerful dream with us. It seems like the Substack energy has been synchronous and deep the last couple of weeks so that’s part of what you’re feeling, even when out of service.
Thank you for the warm welcome, Donna! The place you call home is magnificence writ large . . . sacred embrace. I have never seen such golden splendor. Truly.
You mention the Substack synchrony over the past few weeks. I feel it. I sense we all do. It's you who brought it to our awareness. Thank you. We need not be on the page or 'net' to play in this shared playground. But it's good to have these touch points that say "yes."
You paint an intriguing picture with your dream vision. It feels to me a little of the way the world is today... people moving in mass in their own time. No discernable difference from the landscape around them. Yet there is color and depth to it all. Let's shake it up and stand out from the masses, shall we?
Your reflection of the dream has captured me. I had imagined the dream to reflect a coming into harmony with one another and the living Earth. Your reflection suggests that we are walking along as automatons. Time to wake up!
Both are true.
I also appreciate that you got us started reflecting together on the dream.
As always,overly writing. Greetings from Whidbey Island, WA, where Autumn waits on the wings breathing a chill to our morning air. Summers fly, Winters crawl. An Autumn lover, I hope it lingers. Sending you well wishes!
I'm so glad to read your greetings from Whidbey Island, a place I fell in love with, as you know! I taste the early buds of autumn there in your words, that chill, a tale-tell sign that your season is upon you.
I also appreciate you lending few words about the writing! Did you mean overly written? I must head back to Whidbey for that writer's retreat!! ☺️
Your words are a preview of what’s to come for me! I’ve crossed back into the Yukon and will detour briefly to the top of the Alaska panhandle before taking the Alcan to the Cassiar. The golden hills are stunning an unexpected. I have forgotten about the type of civilization you describe, having been away from it for a month and a half. Thank you for the reminder to drink in this solitude while I can.
It’s been interesting the past two days retracing my steps for the first time this trip. Places that felt so exotic driving north are now familiar. There’s so much here left undone and unseen though, especially further north, so I hope to return next year. Do you have plans to come back?
It sounds as though your journey is unfolding beautifully. You write: "I have forgotten about the type of civilization you describe." You also write about what seemed exotic now being familiar. What a gift to forget so quickly. Something inside comes home, an unceasing thirst gets quenched. There is a phenomenal sense of belonging to the place, the wild untamed, the silence. I sense that something deep within us wakes up to a profound remembering.
It is an awakening, both the forgetting of 'civilization' and the return. . . .
I do not have specific plans of returning to the area, but I feel pulled by the place, certainly.
Safe and enchanted journey, Liz. Thank you, as always, for checking in and sharing.
I've slowed pace a bit, Liz, to prepare a paper I'm giving at a conference next week. I'll explore the riches of the Banff area soon. The needle of my compass is now pointed east. . . .
Oh fun! I’m planning to head south down the West Coast, though I have a conference in Denver in October that I’ll either drive to or fly from Portland. Are you currently in academia?
As I imagine you know, the drive along the Pacific Coast is magical, a different kind of magical than where you are now, but magical all the same. . . .
I am in academia, yes, but not at a university these days--private sector research and education. And you?
Thank you for the gift of your words and exploration, Renee! ♥️ The part of your dream that struck me the most was the mention of how it was only in movement that the people could be seen. I recently read in a John O'Donohue book that movement is how we sculpt the air. Your dream feels to me like a masterpiece of Earth and color with the figures sculpting the air and all connected in a breathing oneness. So beautiful!
What you share is beautiful and leaves me searching for words. ". . . and all connected in a breathing oneness."
I am overtaken, too, with this reflection from John O'Donohue: "movement is how we sculpt air." Thank you for sharing! From what book is this? It reminds me of an idea put forth by the German biophilospher, Andreas Weber, in his book "Matter & Desire: An Erotic Ecology," in which he speaks of the "carrying capacity of air." We see in these two, O'Donohue and Weber, the aliveness of what we give little thought to: air. What if we saw ourselves sculpting air? How would such awareness affect how we move and breathe and live?
The O'Donohue book is called "Four Elements" and was put together by his brother after John's death (which adds a whole other layer of beauty to it, in my opinion). Thank you for pointing me to Matter & Desire! I ordered a copy and can't wait to read it. After my communings with Water this summer, I find myself wanting to understand and relate with air in the same way. I'm just at the beginnings of my explorations, but one recurring thought I've had is that Air is the womb that contains us after we're born. Like so much else, it is our Mother. ♥️
Thank you for pointing me to "Four Elements." I will locate this book.
Your image of Air as womb "that contains us after we're born" is exquisite--a living vessel nourishing our being. I see this image becoming a daily meditation. Thank you for this.
So beautifully written and intriguing! Would love to be in your pocket for this journey
Ann,
I'm glad you're on the journey, if even on the digital page.
Thank you for bringing your voice. . . .
Warmest,
Renée
This dream Renee, so poignant as you emerge seemingly from one world and into another. Mountains are strong, they show me their muscles, mountains are sacred, they show me their sage, mountains are the very metaphor for life. We look up, we hesitate, we climb and sometimes we fall. Yet the mountain is here to catch us all. As you so beautifully described your experience it is the life force of the landscape and I believe has held you on your journey. Witnessing your bravery, your courage, your stamina, so that you are the mountain. A sigh of relief. 💫🙏
Louise,
As is often the case when I encounter your reflections, l encounter myself wordless. You have given us MOUNTAIN . . . "the very metaphor for life," holding us, witnessing us, catching us when we fall . . . free-falling into anewness.
🙏,
Renée
This is exquisitely beautiful, Louise!
Thank you Jenna 🙏💫
Renée; A poem for you as you slowly head east toward home. "We fist up to weather the days, though no one told us it has to be that way. We just constrict, to keep what is tender from being hurt. If blessed, we crack and are pried open till the heart like an oyster shows its softness. Opened by time, we are more humble, more fallible, able to trip more easily into joy. Who would have guessed that this softness between us glitters like the stardust that it is, and who would have guessed that offering what is tender, is what saves us."--Mark Nepo
This is beautiful, 🙏🏻
Ed,
Thank you. 🙏 I echo Kaitlyn (below).
Welcome to British Columbia Sweetie! May our beautiful province hold you in its sacred embrace and guide you safely south.
Thank you for sharing this amazing and powerful dream with us. It seems like the Substack energy has been synchronous and deep the last couple of weeks so that’s part of what you’re feeling, even when out of service.
Thank you for the warm welcome, Donna! The place you call home is magnificence writ large . . . sacred embrace. I have never seen such golden splendor. Truly.
You mention the Substack synchrony over the past few weeks. I feel it. I sense we all do. It's you who brought it to our awareness. Thank you. We need not be on the page or 'net' to play in this shared playground. But it's good to have these touch points that say "yes."
🙏,
Renée
You paint an intriguing picture with your dream vision. It feels to me a little of the way the world is today... people moving in mass in their own time. No discernable difference from the landscape around them. Yet there is color and depth to it all. Let's shake it up and stand out from the masses, shall we?
Erma,
Your reflection of the dream has captured me. I had imagined the dream to reflect a coming into harmony with one another and the living Earth. Your reflection suggests that we are walking along as automatons. Time to wake up!
Both are true.
I also appreciate that you got us started reflecting together on the dream.
Thank you. 🙏
Renée
As always,overly writing. Greetings from Whidbey Island, WA, where Autumn waits on the wings breathing a chill to our morning air. Summers fly, Winters crawl. An Autumn lover, I hope it lingers. Sending you well wishes!
Sharon,
I'm so glad to read your greetings from Whidbey Island, a place I fell in love with, as you know! I taste the early buds of autumn there in your words, that chill, a tale-tell sign that your season is upon you.
I also appreciate you lending few words about the writing! Did you mean overly written? I must head back to Whidbey for that writer's retreat!! ☺️
Love hearing from you!
Renée
Your words are a preview of what’s to come for me! I’ve crossed back into the Yukon and will detour briefly to the top of the Alaska panhandle before taking the Alcan to the Cassiar. The golden hills are stunning an unexpected. I have forgotten about the type of civilization you describe, having been away from it for a month and a half. Thank you for the reminder to drink in this solitude while I can.
It’s been interesting the past two days retracing my steps for the first time this trip. Places that felt so exotic driving north are now familiar. There’s so much here left undone and unseen though, especially further north, so I hope to return next year. Do you have plans to come back?
Liz,
It sounds as though your journey is unfolding beautifully. You write: "I have forgotten about the type of civilization you describe." You also write about what seemed exotic now being familiar. What a gift to forget so quickly. Something inside comes home, an unceasing thirst gets quenched. There is a phenomenal sense of belonging to the place, the wild untamed, the silence. I sense that something deep within us wakes up to a profound remembering.
It is an awakening, both the forgetting of 'civilization' and the return. . . .
I do not have specific plans of returning to the area, but I feel pulled by the place, certainly.
Safe and enchanted journey, Liz. Thank you, as always, for checking in and sharing.
🙏
Renée
Thank you, Renee! What’s next for you?
I've slowed pace a bit, Liz, to prepare a paper I'm giving at a conference next week. I'll explore the riches of the Banff area soon. The needle of my compass is now pointed east. . . .
Will you head south? East?
Oh fun! I’m planning to head south down the West Coast, though I have a conference in Denver in October that I’ll either drive to or fly from Portland. Are you currently in academia?
Liz,
As I imagine you know, the drive along the Pacific Coast is magical, a different kind of magical than where you are now, but magical all the same. . . .
I am in academia, yes, but not at a university these days--private sector research and education. And you?
Thank you for the gift of your words and exploration, Renee! ♥️ The part of your dream that struck me the most was the mention of how it was only in movement that the people could be seen. I recently read in a John O'Donohue book that movement is how we sculpt the air. Your dream feels to me like a masterpiece of Earth and color with the figures sculpting the air and all connected in a breathing oneness. So beautiful!
Jenna,
What you share is beautiful and leaves me searching for words. ". . . and all connected in a breathing oneness."
I am overtaken, too, with this reflection from John O'Donohue: "movement is how we sculpt air." Thank you for sharing! From what book is this? It reminds me of an idea put forth by the German biophilospher, Andreas Weber, in his book "Matter & Desire: An Erotic Ecology," in which he speaks of the "carrying capacity of air." We see in these two, O'Donohue and Weber, the aliveness of what we give little thought to: air. What if we saw ourselves sculpting air? How would such awareness affect how we move and breathe and live?
Thank you 🙏
Renée
The O'Donohue book is called "Four Elements" and was put together by his brother after John's death (which adds a whole other layer of beauty to it, in my opinion). Thank you for pointing me to Matter & Desire! I ordered a copy and can't wait to read it. After my communings with Water this summer, I find myself wanting to understand and relate with air in the same way. I'm just at the beginnings of my explorations, but one recurring thought I've had is that Air is the womb that contains us after we're born. Like so much else, it is our Mother. ♥️
Jenna,
Thank you for pointing me to "Four Elements." I will locate this book.
Your image of Air as womb "that contains us after we're born" is exquisite--a living vessel nourishing our being. I see this image becoming a daily meditation. Thank you for this.