Walking in the Woods

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After a fun holiday season where solitude dropped nearly to zero, I took myself up a mountain to commence my birthday season. (A girl needs to plan and play ahead of time when her birthday falls on the Monday that signals the new year doubling down on last year’s routines).

Reverence is in my every cell when I am moving at my own pace in the fresh air. The pounding of my feet on the earth and the lack of needful direction choosing or conversation maintenance allow me to drop into my own deep listening posture: heart in my voice, words flowing through me and to me. Insight and inspiration fill the pauses between prayerful attention given to big trees, diving birds, animal tracks. Not every revelation will be easily integrated into daily life when I come down from the mountain, but I do come down the mountain knowing myself better all over again. The gesture, the attitude carry over into my pedestrian life. It’s good medicine, simple, clean and free.

This particular day, the snow was bright, then later blue or gold or rose as the sun set itself down in it’s southwestern pocket. I perched on warm rocks on the ridge-top, aligned my legs and spine with the trees support and spent some quality time engaged with a woodpecker. I climbed like mother tortoise, slow and steady and then careened down wildly like brother coyote was hot on my heels.

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