One's embodiment is the ground into which all continuity flows, so the past can be just as influenced as the future by one's way of going in the here and now.
Oh my! Have you seen a Dunnock close up? This little fella flies in from who knows where onto my bird table (an old flower urn) and has a bite to eat and then flies back to safety. It was the sound of his flight that made me look up from my book. Really loud beating of wings. I am so glad that my senses are more attuned now. The light was shining through his legs, they were a translucent orange - I felt love, I felt my heart expand beyond the limits of my physical body, and I sent love, I felt connected with him and I thanked him for his presence, a reminder that I am not alone and he is with me, such gratitude that his species is still with us and his warm heart and wisdom is blessing my life. I didn't take this here picture cause when he visits I don't want to startle him by moving.
I have always struggled to match the bird song I hear with a particular bird. As I listen these days to recordings to try to learn them I realise I've been hearing these chaps all my life and never knew who they were. I listened to his and couldn't believe that he has been keeping me company all my life with his song. When I check in my body at this moment I don't even feel shock on realising this, that's how removed I often am from my surroundings. I feel numb.
My neighbour cut down a buddleia bush in his garden. (part of the 'tidy up' that may be happening at the moment in our gardens). It's been the home for a lot of creatures for a long time. When I saw that it was gone I felt the impact of loss on my body, deeply felt sadness, and the sparrow species seemed close to me. I apologised to them, I said I was sorry for all the ways we humans have impacted the lives of other beings. I wanted to kneel down in that moment, to honour their plight, but shame stopped me, fear of what people would think if they saw me and fear of loss of belonging if I expressed myself fully in that moment.
Deep gratitude to Toko-pa Turner for her book, Belonging, Remembering Ourselves Home, which was written in 2017 and nourishes me so deeply at this time.
"If we are going to come back into the rhythm of nature, we have to slow down. If we imagine the world as our own body, speaking to us in loud, desperate pleas, the first thing we have to do is listen. We must acknowledge the limitations that have brought us to this terrifying precipice. We don't know what we don't know, and instead of pushing through our injury and confusion we need to surrender the rush and show up instead with our heartbreak to encounter what is becoming. Be hospitable to what stillness has to offer. Cherish the opportunity to sink into the eternal, which is available to be bathed in at any given moment.
There are times when the mind and body must be made to stop. The unruly is made to feel safe by limits. Limits to our productivity, limits to our activity, and limits to our directedness are what allow the imagination to wander, to perceive greater goals, to invite rather than lead."