Friday, May 1, 2015
Saturday, April 18, 2015
At Easter I laid a trail for the young one (now 6 1/2 years old).
'To do this treasure hunt, you need to be very observant,' I told her.
'What does observant mean?'
'It means you notice things.'
She had to think for a while. It's a pohutukawa, but they only flower in summer. Then 'I know!' as she ran up to the gate where a small Tahitian pohutukawa grows. These plants flower through autumn and winter.
What a delight to have our own 'secret garden' where the plants are alive and well, and fun grows freely.
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
First, WALKING IN: letting go of distractions and releasing unwanted thoughts. As you walk in, let them all drop away and your mind become clear. Step by step, release and clear. Step by step. Take your time. There is no hurry at all.
'Enjoy the turns,' you are advised. 'The turns can help you to accept change in your life.'
Whatever feelings arise, you are advised to trust and keep walking, knowing you are being led to where you need to go.
Open to receiving.
Maybe your question will be answered in a surprising way, and maybe it will unravel a little more.
And now it is time for the RETURNING. You leave by the way in which you came. You return to the world, bearing the gift of the labyrinth.
It is yours to share.
I wish you all peace at Easter, and space to make your own pilgrimage into the heart, wherever you may be.
Sunday, March 29, 2015
Joanna Macy, in a recent interview, speaks of this with such clarity.
Then, when I sat down, weary from drumming, and held the drum in my arms while others kept going, I noticed something surprising. My drum was vibrating. It was vibrating with the beat of all the drums around it. I held it amazed, as the vibration went on and on, bringing strange comfort.
Friday, March 20, 2015
Dear reader, don't fall in love with a tree.
And so, dear reader, you can probably imagine how I felt when I heard the chain saw screaming through the air.
I didn't want a better view of the sea. I wanted my tree.
By the time my client had left, and I dared to look out, many major branches had already been cut.
I phoned the Council immediately. 'We'll check the Resource Consent,' they said.
I put on my coat and ran. Ran up our steep driveway and out the gate. Ran along the street and round the corner. Ran down to the piece of public land that runs along towards the tree on the neighbour's property.
'Who's in charge?' I asked the lounging workmen, waiting with their empty truck to take the debris away. 'No one,' they said and laughed.
I ran towards the tree. One man was tied to the top, and another on the ground held the ropes.
'It's coming down,' said the bloke on the ground, and laughed, showing gaps in his teeth.
But the bloke up the tree understood. He stopped the chain saw.
'The trunk has rot in it,' he said. 'We're removing the weight from all these branches so that it doesn't fall over.'
My pounding heart began to slow down.
He got the other guy to take me round the back of the trunk. I had to scramble over a tangle of cut limbs and bushy foliage. Sure enough, I saw the rot, and understood what they were doing.
As I left, I passed the neighbours who had come out of their apartments to watch. A suave gentleman called out mockingly, and the other workmen did too.
'The pohutukawas are going next,' they jeered. As I left I heard their laughter.
You may be seen as a crazy old woman or man.
But when the chain saw tears through the branches, you will feel as if your own limbs are being severed. And when you look out in your favourite direction in the morning, and see the damage, it will hurt. Even though it's all for your own good.
Sunday, March 15, 2015
—'What's a cyclone?'
—'It's a fierce storm with wild winds and lots of rain.'
—How do they know it's coming?
—Because the satellites up in space circle the earth and take pictures. They see a place where the clouds are going round and round - like a whirlwind, and that's the cyclone. It's up in the Pacific islands at the moment, and is moving down towards New Zealand.
—Granny, can I lift the plug?
—Yes, you can.
—I want to see the cyclone go down the plughole.
If only the cyclones that sweep through our lives could be dealt with so easily! If we could unplug and watch them spin away, never to return.
We have been warned to put aside lots of water, get batteries for our torches, have a radio handy, food in the cupboards, and not to go outside when the cyclone hits tonight.
When the life cyclones hit, what do you need in your survival kit?
I have a little pouch of prayers, a bundle of bravery, a rumble of resilience, and a fistful of faith.
How about you?