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I am one who believes in the pause. I inhale, pause, exhale, pause, and sometimes that pause can last a season.

Today, my eldest son is 38. I celebrate his birth, his coming into the world, and what that means to me. I go to Muir Woods and walk in past all people, to be alone with a creek and trees. I sit, feel the words holy, whole, and hole pierce through me. I stand and the sun lights me through trees. I wonder about sunlight through trees. Is there an extra noticing and appreciation, more awareness of how air is shared?

I am old enough now to qualify for a pass for elders. I pay $10.00 and can now enter any national park for the rest of my life. I show my driver’s license, which has a photo of me taken when I had long, blonde hair. “Beautiful tresses,” the man who takes my money and gives me my card, says. I say how different I am now, knowing I wouldn’t trade tresses for what I’ve learned and experienced in these last almost seven years for anything. Almost seven years, and still there is that tremble as the body remembers Fall, and celebrates Spring. Perhaps now the pause and seasons are in everything.

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Today I came across the book “embrace your inner wild”. It is 52 Reflections from an Eco-Centric World and is by Mary Reynolds Thompson with photographs by Don Moseman.

I will give it to a friend, to many friends, and yet, I sit now with the wisdom within this book of precious photographs of Marin and words strung together like songs of friends.

Perhaps what touches me most is this:

A friend asks an indigenous elder from the rain forests of South America, “Are you ever lonely?”

Silence.

“There is no word for loneliness in his language,” the translator explains.

If you are looking for something to fill you so well there is no word for loneliness, this is the book.

Next to a photo of an orb weaver spider in a web at Muir Woods are these words:

“The deeper we go into our individual nature, the more we discover that we are part of the whole.”

It is the new year, the year of the Rabbit to the Chinese, and many of us are renewed in our vows for health and inner and outer exploration.

I am reading a book by Clare Cooper Marcus, Iona Dreaming, The Healing Power of Place, A Memoir.

I came to this book because of my need for place, because of my understanding that Mount Tamalpais and my home are part of my healing. I didn’t realize when I began her book that Clare had also been through cancer treatment. I recommend the book for anyone but especially those who have been through treatment and want to delve within to understand. I also recommend it to those who may be searching for or who have found their place.

In the book, she quotes Deena Metzger on the value of writing. Why do we write, or why might we?

Deena Metzger in her book Writing for Your Life:

In the process of writing, of discovering our story, we restore those parts of ourselves that have been scattered, hidden, suppressed, denied, distorted, forbidden, and we come to understand that stories heal. As in the word “remember,” we re-member, we bring together the parts, we integrate that which has been alienated or separated out …. self discovery is more than gathering information about oneself …. It alters us. We re-store, re-member, re-vitalize… Writing our story takes us back to some moment of origin when everything was whole ….


“Summer and winter solstice times are the two moments of the year when the sun appears to stand still.”

The above quote is from Wendy Johnson’s wonderful book, Gardening at the Dragon’s Gate, At Work in the Wild and Cultivated World.  “The Latin word sol-stice actually means: sun-standstill.”

Wendy honors the “celestial push and pull of sun and moon” when she gardens.

There “are simple and ancient principles: seeds sprout best during the bright of the moon, while during the dark period of the moon it is advisable to minister to the underground roots of plants, which is why many gardeners transplant seedlings in the dark of the moon. This is also a good time to prune, weed, and divide perennial plants.”

I am aware of sunlight and the full moon and perhaps even the dark nights of the new moon, but I have not honored so clearly when I might best perform certain tasks.  Perhaps I can give better attention to the underground, and nourish and nurture my roots as the 28 days of the moon’s phases play in our sky.

Wendy writes that “Many earthbound traditions associate the seasons themselves with the four great elements, also clearly represented in the physical form of plants. Spring is expressed in moving water, or as the sap flow rising and falling in green stems; summer, in the warm air element rustling in the wind-pollinated corolla of June sunflowers; autumn, with the ripening fire encased in every seed and fruit; and winter, in the deep roots of plants that dive down into cool, dark earth.”

Each life has seasons, each day!

About this blog:

Cathy and Jane started writing together during Cathy's illness, and that writing became a blog, which then became a book!

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