Another busy week. 'Tis the season! I was away from my gardens and studio this past weekend, attending the International Herb Symposium. I learned some new stuff, make no mistake, and received validation of personal theories and practices. I was challenged and my brain got to bend and expand. My heart too. I had at least one AhHa! moment, though I'm still prettying-up my notes and who knows what will strike me as I continue plowing through them? I had fun, met folks from around the globe, made new friends, sang and listened and witnessed. I got to give and receive countless hugs, and simply... to Be in the presence of exceptional greatness ~ individual and collective.
I felt the familiar tribal-embrace that I'd not felt in more than a few years. I felt it deeply. And at the same time felt a deep loneliness too. I realized, with a distinct conscious awareness, that the call to return to the full service of my Rooted Ancestors was Real and Ripe. I suspected as much, and have been returning to those roots and realigning my dedication since my mother's passing, but now... now it's time to ratchet it up.
It's uncertain where this call will lead me, but this week I've rededicated myself to morning ritual that is already opening my eyes and my heart to potential. Potential to add value to this skewed world we share. And I am grateful.
Strolling in Witness around my little acre is on my agenda for this morning, along with planting more seed and transplanting more seedlings. And as I tend to this nurturance I will express my prayers to be a worthy witness to the song of the plants, my botanical allies, the Rooted Ancestors, so that I may be their voice in these strange, disconnected times we live in.
And in these realizations, rediscoveries and revelations I see a garden of toil and ecstatic delight. And like the calling, I am Ripe and Real and Ready.