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A Harmonious Merging ~ Coming Home


 

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I’ve never felt more myself than I do now at this point in my life…a feeling of returning back to my origins…of being most naturally me… Grounded and yet expansive. Inspired and free. New and old, Earth and Cosmos merging… There’s a wholeness that is anchoring and it feels like peace. I embrace my silver highlights from the Fae as the anchoring of ancient lineage coursing through my veins. I cherish the innocence of childlike purity that lights me from within like a star amidst the black of night.

And it is all rooted in love that takes me deeper daily into a return to natural harmony.

I am grateful and celebrate being.

Mine, yours, ours.

 

A friend saw my photo below and commented, “I can see dragon energy in your eyes.”

It made me take a second glance that took a hold of my spirit in a way I can’t explain.

I felt like I was home.

And indeed I am, which is being mirrored by our dream home we’ve anchored in.

I worked diligently with the Faeries and all Elementals, as well as the Animal Spirits (and some friends from beyond) of our new home and the land surrounding it to help align things and manifest it all. I knew the moment I stepped foot in it, it was the right house for us and that solidified when walking through the yard and the forest that surrounds it. I didn’t give up on it even when things could have gone different ways. The Faeries told me to trust and so I did. I always just know something and feel to the heart of things – that silver lining beyond the hurdles to get there.

And oh the magick that will be woven here!

It will take several months of craziness with remodeling and prep, but the Faeries are excited about the new energy and this haven being created for them and all of us to share. Much will evolve over time, even after the main work is done, since we can’t do anything to the yard until after Winter’s snow except plant eight new 12 foot Austrian Pines for now to create our sanctuary, which up here need to be in by October 15th due to very strict planting restrictions. So, I’m excited to have some new tree friends to join the forest collective.

These photos are taken on site, pre-changes, and reflect a new me rooting with the heart of this land and home, inside and out.

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I’d just done some braiding magick with my hair the night before, turning myself into Pippi Longstocking – one of my fav styles for a wild, easy, and free mane. Not to mention, makes me feel like all of the parts of myself beyond this human experience of Tania.

It’s also the first time my silver is really stepping out in a big way. Normally you see the chunks laced through my hair, when it’s straighter, but with braiding it really creates a whole other effect that integrates it and spreads it around in a way I imagined myself to look in my sage years – AND how I look beyond what you know of me.

So fun to see that now, and what it draws forth from within my spirit to emerge. I have always been a lover of dichotomy and felt like a walking one – now more than ever!

And I LOVE how Astrid and I have the exact same hair colors just blended in different ways, which is incredible given I had no idea she was the one coming home with me. Just the other day I was laying next to her on the ground in my Reiki workshop and Bean said, “omgosh your hair is exactly the same color as hers.” This wasn’t the first time, as both Marcy and Sharon had said the same on the day I adopted her. We ARE one and the same….a witchy faery and her familiar for sure. 😉

I’m sure there are many who might not understand why I would enhance my already silver stripes growing in my hair, or think I look better with their version of “ideal,” but it’s simply my way of feeling most myself and revealing who I really am. I don’t mind having something associated with “old” mixed in with otherwise “young” looking things.

Perhaps these are both inversions of the oneness that is innocence.

I don’t strive to fit in. I live in a reality of my own creation.

I just want to be me…..the lifetimes and eons of me, here and now.

While others might feel more aligned with doing everything to look younger or create longevity, I’m just comfortable in feeling at home and desiring creative expression and quality versus quantity of life for however long that is meant to be.

I still get told I look half my chronological age, but now my hair throws in a curve ball, which to me feels more aligned because while physically I may be one thing, in heart and spirit there is quite another going on.

I feel both that heart of a child skipping with Mother Nature and also sometimes feel like Father Time spiraling through the cycles.

I’ve written about the “silver lining” before and how this approach to life has trickled into embodiment for me by literally turning into silver-streaked hair. Had you asked me years ago if I’d be proudly wearing silver hair, I’d likely had thought no way, but I’ve learned that things turn on a dime. Just as certain trajectories we were on have shifted into new, merged versions that encompass a higher good.

Before I felt like there were multi-paths I was working on all at once, and now it feels like they’ve merged together, providing all the same things and possibilities, but integrated.

Kind of like having silver hair and yet dressing, looking, or otherwise being what you’d think is opposite to that. It’s all connected and more and more we are breaking down limiting ideas and rules and creating new versions of experiencing everything aside from conditioning.

Hard to explain, but it feels good and allows me the ability to root further, play more, and rest along the way.

This feels to be the reflection of my hair, as well as our home.

There’s a sense of returning home and yet the irony is, we never left.

It’s simply the journey made conscious and our origins actualized for our human beingness to realize.

Tree Wisdom


magickal tree in high park, toronto

Magickal Tree in High Park, Toronto I found on my visit there in 2013

 

“For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfil themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.

Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.

A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail.

A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live.

When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent. You are anxious because your path leads away from mother and home. But every step and every day lead you back again to the mother. Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one’s suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.”

~Hermann Hesse,  Baume. Betrachtungen und Gedichte (Trees. Reflections and Poems)

 

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