Into the Woods
Welcome to the fortnightly Sunday letter, traversing nature, being human, story, season and compost
Welcome to the fortnightly Sunday letter, traversing nature, being human, story, season and compost
Hello and welcome to this Sundays fortnightly letter.
When I was a small one, I would lose myself completely and utterly in my grannies forest that expanded out from her cottage, her cottage being in the very heart of the forest.
I would nestle into the roots of trees and breathe in the heady steadying scent of soil. I would feel a presence so alive in the forest, one of connectivity and magic. My life outside of my grannies and this place was often hard, terrifying and confusing, and this place helped ground and steady me, reminding me of a beauty that still existed.
I would watch the tiny insects, the squirrels, birds, rabbits, foxes and deer that also roamed those woods, they were all aware of my presence, and seemed fine with me being there.
I would gather pebbles from the streams that like sparkling veins, ran through the soil and roots, bubbling and alive. Those pebbles, seed pods, pine cones and fallen branches covered in lichens would create shrines and altars and my little cauldron was always full of herbs to make spells and potions with.
In the evenings, at certain times, a knock, a scratch a click or a growl could be heard outside of my grannies thick wooden door. Depending on the time, my granny always knew who was behind the door. The fox, who long ago came to her with a hurt leg and ever since comes at 6 each evening for a chat, a stroke and a saucer of warm milk, or the pheasant that would come while it was still light, who once came to her door with cut wing, and after being helped, comes each dusk for seeds and a little talk about life, or the hedgehog, once appeared disorientated and scared, now comes and snuffles, and sits in my grannies company for 10 minutes or so before bumbling off or the rabbit, whose ear once torn had come to her, and now in the very early morning, would come and greet the day with my granny and share a carrot, or a stick of celery or a handful of dandelion leaves.
It was as though a message had gone through the roots, the mycelium and the mouths and hearts of the forest, that in the cottage lived a two legged who had a big heart and a tender touch and could help those struggling. And I guess, she did the same for me too.
My granny never spoke with the animals in silly voices, nor did she want to own them, she conversed with them in soft voices or silence, letting her energy and hands do the talking.
In the day times, we would go out with our sketch pads, our flask of wild tea and pouch of pencils and pastels and draw, discover, explore and sketch the beauty of the land.
I felt safe in these times, I felt inspired and they helped grow within me, the understanding that nature was safety, community, ally, medicine and soul touching beauty.
The connections I gained there - the ancient yew, her heart and hands, the soil, the creatures, the family of rabbits, the spiders, the badgers and the fox. The roots, the nettles, the dandelions and the butterflies all were revealed to me in beauty and love, and created lasting connections that fed my heart, helping me when times were rough. Those connections formed something like a web, a web that became a blanket of comfort when I needed it, something to reach for and that helped hold the feelings of grief.
Many earth based cultures, speak of a the threads of connection that come from a baby to the world around them, to their community, both human and more than human. To the animals they get to know, to the local plants that are their medicine, to the tiny ones that help hold the world in balance, to the soil that grows their food, to the stream that holds their body and gives them water. Many believe it is the task of the parents and grandparents to weave this blanket, or web, of connection between growing child and community of people and the wider more than human community. These threads sew people into the land and their belonging and helps them to feel held and safe and loved.
It is important that the connections are ensouled, and because they are alive and ensouled both ends of the connection are fed. So the child that grows to know, understand and love the apple tree near their house, where they eat from and are held in feel a sense of being cared for and nourished by the world in knowing that tree, and the tree, will receive and be fed by the gratitude and tending of the child. For what you learn to connect with in your heart, you yearn to protect.
The trouble is, in these times, many children are no longer introduced and facilitated to connect in this way to their community and their more than human community. Many children may have many connections that arent alive or ensouled, such as with phones, computers or products. And while these can be fun, they dont offer a reminder of the free holding, support and love that is naturally there for each person on this earth.
I know when life has felt almost unlivable, it is these connections, the visceral memory of them, that has kept me going, reminding me of a beauty in the world and the stories they hold that have deeply touched my heart.
I Remember when someone said to me, that the trauma I held was not something i could get rid of, that it was there in me, it was part of my story. And instead of running from it, instead of trying to wash it away, I should try to find ways of holding it, try to find ways to weave beauty into my life that strengthened the tear that was in my tapestry.
And although I had my granny, although I had nature, I also lacked in the day to day life, healthy and wholesome connections to a more beautiful and giving world.
But, as adults, we can weave those connections for ourselves, connect to what we didn’t when we were young, connect to what we missed and what we needed then, because it will feed and hold you in the days to come. Its never too late to weave this blanket of care for ourselves, and the threads are out there, the beings are waiting, and each connection we make, we are fed, and we are also giving a gift.
Is there ensouled life you feel would serve you to connect with on a deep heart felt level? The wild medicine plants that grow near you? The tenacious dandelion, the robin, the deer, the wild waters, the stars in the sky, the tree in the woods?
May we all weave ourselves beautiful and colourful cloaks, that keep the cold us and whisper stories of beauty that warms our hearts and strengthens our core when times are hard.
Thank you for being here, and may the wild world bring you much beauty.
Brigit xxxx
i love the description of your nanny's place. so beautiful and magical, she must have been a very wise woman. it reminds me of a book called "the house on the chicken legs" by sophie anderson. its a kids book but it is beautiful!
Such a beautiful message to take with me into the new year.Thank you. I will embrace the idea of reconnecting with nature and my roots as I repair the tears in my own tapestry. Love & gratitude.