Connection
When all human world feels edgy, I find hope, courage and medicine amongst the wild ones.
Welcome to our fortnightly connection letter about either nature, recovery, plants, being human or all of them.
THANK YOU for being here.
It has been a great inspiration for my recovery journey, witnessing how tender shoots rise up from decay. The rot of lives gone by, the decomposition of trees, plants, bones, leaves and bodies, that in its release, becomes food for growth.
Nature is the greatest of alchemists, nothing is wasted, only transformed.
Death it seems, feeds new life, letting go, an essential step in becoming.
To witness the dandelion growing and blooming amid the minuscule crack in the concrete, surrounded by the hardened grey, is for me, a sign of natures innate pull to rebalance and repair.
On seeing the first nettles, blackthorn blossom, cleavers and dandelions grow their medicine into the world after the autumnal descent and rich darkness of winter, is a balm to my nervous system.
To see how the natural wild earth community comes together in diverse shapes of bacteria, fungi, wild waters, insects, flying ones, heavy beasts, light footed ones, reptiles, worms and weeds, to bring a place back to health, makes me realise how this is their very nature, all wild ones playing a part in the story of recovery.
This story of alchemy, of recovery, is written within the very fabric of nature, driving it in this continuous changing dance, as if some spirit, on the making of the world, stamped an instruction into every beings heart; to care for the earth and offer reciprocity to life by being yourself.
It seems these instructions are still running strong when I sit back and watch how nature grows and moves and shifts.
When I see the dandelions arrive in my garden, or the cleavers gather together around my hedges, or the thistle and teasel appear in the cracks of the stone pathways, the docks unfurling in the flower beds, the moss on the steps and the nettles smiling amongst the culinary herbs, it doesn’t make me fret as it might have once upon a time, it makes me smile, it makes me feel safe.
To see how the world is still working, reminds me that there is still hope.
When the human world feels edgy and grey, when it feels as though it’s closing in on me, I just need to look out of my window or step out of my house and see how the elder tree is going into blossom, or the bees moving between blossom, thyme, comfrey and borage, or how the worm still peeks out from the soft earth, pink and delightful, or how the squirrel plants the acorn, storing food and making forests, or the burst of fly agaric around the birch, the jelly ears on the elder, the beetle plodding by, helps me to breathe a little deeper, each sign of movement settling my nervous system. As I see, that no matter the craziness and absurdity of the human world, still, nature is taking care of the world around, still, the rest of the wild has the right idea.
No longer do I fear the weed, the spider or the dark.
If a spider resides in the corner near my desk, weaving her silvery web as old as the universe, or a wood louse finds themselves pottering over my floor boards, or a bat flies by my head, or a thistle lives amongst my mint. I just utter a hello and thank them for their work in the world.
For me they are more safe and familiar than the white box I find myself sitting within, or the hum of the fridge, the electric glare, or the smell of detergent from my neighbours washing that mingles with the air.
For each thing I rest my eyes on, insects, creature, plant, fungus is creating goodness, balance and harmony.
Yet if wilds nature, if the very spirit of it gave up trying to rebalance and offer up their beauty. We would be in deep trouble.
I often find myself wondering, what would happen, if nature listened to the criticism that is often spilled onto them from human minds that have become fogged with disconnecting beliefs. If our native plants heard the cry of “weed” when they popped their heads up, is spiders, ants, worms and wasps took to heart the name “creepy crawlies” or if the dark and beautiful soil felt the words ‘dirt” in their core.
What if Apple tree grew to be so self conscious of their longing to fruit, that they didn’t grow apples in case someone laughed at them. Or what if roses, became so self critical of their bodies that they refused to flower for fear of others reactions, what if bee stopped listening to the vibration of pollen because it stopped trusting in its own guidance, what if the trees in the forest stopped moving from summer to autumn, from green to gold because of a growing disconnection to the earths processes, what if seed refused to move from winter into spring, not growing beyond the underworld of the earth for fear of not being perfect enough, what if birds stopped flying as they didn’t believe themselves capable, or if insects stopped eating the dying and the decay as they stopped listening to their inner pull. What if all of nature stopped being guided by the their own wild will for life, due to being told too many times that their own inner knowing was defunct, their feelings annoying, their compass out of whack. What if natures essence, its very centre and guidance became grey and stagnant from mistreatment, stress, abuse and trauma.
We would lose the medicine of so much, we would grind to a halt of congealed stagnancy, life as we know it would be greatly diminished, dead even. We would not survive and we would weep in our gardens and fields, longing for weed and worm, for creepy crawlies and fungi, for tenacious dandelions and stinging nettles.
Yet this is what so many of us modern humans do, the only beings of nature who so often seem to deny their own becoming.
Unable to let themselves grow, flower, bloom, fruit and thrive incase someone is offended, put out, disapproving or angry. And in that way, hiding their unique and beautiful medicine from their days, and the days of others.
Nature inspires me to remember who really am.
And when all feels tricky, hard or stuck I look out of the window, or head outside and watch how nature grows, I great the spider in the autumn mist, I great the blackbird, sing to the squirrel, rejoice in the trees buds, kiss a dandelion and feel happier, safer, knowing nature is alive.
So much wild weedy beauty to you
Brigit xxxxx
COMING NEXT FOR SUBSCRIBERS-
Monday Mycelium
A link for a chance to join our online new moon meeting
Full moons journaling prompts
Samhain as a festival
Saturday seeds
Novembers medicine and story
Such beautiful medicine in your words 🙏🏻💫
This is so beautiful Brigit and the perfect reminder that Mother Earth does not judge us, even when we judge each other or snub the wildness in favour of more pretty things. She knows that we will return, she has no doubt about it. She sees us one by one connecting to real nature, the wild kind and she and all her plants and creatures are grateful, so grateful. 💫🙏