Tag Archives: spirituality

It is All Connected

Original work first posted at Isáine’s other blog, Witch of the Wyldwood, May 7, 2013. 

This breath that I am taking, this air that I am inhaling, it is the out breath of other living creatures. It is the essence of plants and trees, it is the product of natural processes occurring constantly all over this planet, in the fibers and cells of plants, in the lungs and cells of animals and other human beings. My exhale is the breath that they will draw, the air that they will pull into their pores and the fibers of their being. What I take into myself will feed my cells, nourish my body, and then it will leave my body with my soft exhale and return. And so it continues….

This water that I am drinking is millions of years old. It has been over rocks and crevices, has sustained plant life and animal life and human life, for millenia. It carries in it the memories of All. It carries within it the memory of our beginning, of our happiness and our pain. It has fallen on deserts and mountain tops and run through deep gorges and seen the depths of the sea where no man’s eyes have been. It has been consumed and excreted by land, sea, sky… plant, beast, human. It is our tears, our sweat, our blood. What I take into myself will feed my cells, will nourish my body. Then it will leave my body in one way or another, be rejoined with some larger body of water or evaporated into the atmosphere where it will reform as water droplets in the clouds until they are too heavy to stay there and will fall once more back upon this land, this thirsty land with thirsty creatures upon it. And so it continues…

We are all connected. To the essence of our very beings, the makeup up our cells, what vitalizes our bodies and sparks the mind, we are ONE. There is no denying that. Well, there may be denial. There is plenty of denial. But there is no running from it, hiding from it, or thinking that we can step outside/above the rest and not be affected by what we do to the rest. Because we will be. We ARE being affected.

We are choking on this air. We are puking up this water. Our lungs grasp for any amount of freshness, our cells shrivel, dehydrated and poisoned. The air is full of fumes and noxious gases and poison. The plants are disappearing  They are the filters, the creators of clean air. And we are destroying them. The water is dirty, full of chemicals and petroleum and plastic, and poisons. We are taking these into ourselves. And the rest of the plants and animals on this planet are too. Our cell structures are being damaged, our DNA is being damaged and changed because of these toxins. Water is not a renewable resource. Air is not a renewable resource if we destroy all the forests.

Take a step back and really think about all of this. Think about your place in this world, your interconnectedness to the All, your place in the weave. And what is your impact? And What are you going to do to CHANGE it? To help others to change? To save this planet before it’s too late, to save ourselves before it’s too late?

In the Dark of the Night

Originally posted over at Midnight’s blog, Storms & Spirits, December 14, 2012. 

I stand relaxed, swaying slightly, moving to my own inner rhythm. Slowly I stretch my senses, exchanging one sight for another as I close my eyes and let my other senses paint an image for me. More important than that I feel what is around me. I feel the faint sparks of energy, of life in the tree. I bow to it, fluid, formal, a gesture of respect.. I whisper to it. Lay my hand on it, long-fingered dark-skinned hand against rough bark. For a moment I feel the connection, I am part of something beautiful. ( I honestly cannot say more than that.. I have tried and nothing suffices. So since I can’t explain it well I will just say that it’s beautiful. ) I hear a pulse deeper, stronger than my own. Then I am myself again. Myself with something more, some faint lingering of the pairing, some residual connection. At the edge of my mind, another consciousness; the tree no longer so soundly asleep. Faint feelings of curiosity and other emotions, more and less than human rub against my mind. Herbed smoke wafts up from the coals, tongues of it wrapping around us with vaporous fingers. I reach down grabbing my bowl and with deliberate care empty the contents around the tree.  Circling again I bend low and touch the roots that stand above the ground. Words form in the back of my throat. Liquid, they flow from me. At last I sit amidst the roots and earth, herbed smoke and fallen leaves, and I laugh, long and clear.