Conversations with Life

 Walking through the dappled breeze between the saplings, my path reveals a rock. It stands out from the grit and fine dust beneath my feet, obviously wanting to be noticed. I pause, the interlude a welcome respite from the salty efforts of the climb. He gestures to me, slowly inviting me closer. Shucking my pack, the hardy tufts of grass beside the path wink at me. I sit.

 “..I’ve missed you…”

 Absorbing his longing, I sigh, releasing my human guilt to sister susurration.

 “..I’m so pleased to be with you. Again..”

 The voice rumbles in the deepest fibres of my heart strumming the whale-shout across the world. My soul reverberates across my life.

 “..I feel them all you know. Only two have felt me. You might be able to catch him…he just went by, in kudu skins, with a horse and spears.. Your hearts would do well to talk. But you were here long before him, last time…”

 My sadness creeps up unexpectedly, tickling my eyes to water.

The laugh booms unexpectedly across the forest, startling a field mouse. I look at rock, confused “…I’ve lost a few pounds since we last talked….”

He shifts towards a giant Forest Alder.

 “..See that baby? She’s part of me…”

Leaning back, he looks at the River Bushwillow sapling growing in his shade. He suddenly feels heavy.

“..That little one whom I helped birth got lost on her way. She should be down with water, with moss, with robin, not up here with us, with eagle and lammergeier…”. Silence.

“..But ant needs her, and she will feed them well…..”. He shakes in gentle laughter at the thought of father ant.

Raising my hand, I rest it on his side. Cool, rough, strong. I touch the centre of the earth, the heat, the power that comes from the endless interplay at our core. He is quiet.

Rising, I lay my soaked back against rock, tilting my head, gazing through the busy green train station of leaves above, blue sky waving beyond.

“Thank you“ I tell him. I am grateful for the rest he provides, for the shelter of the trees whom he holds in his larger scattered self. Without him, none would live. Like him, I have form. Water rushes over me, as him, neither of us absorbing it. Wind turns me red, wind turns him dark. Holding plants and feeding them he gifts me food, which I pass on to millions of tiny creatures who also find home in his greater self. Merged and mingled, we rest together.

About Julie Courtnage

With training in environmental science, I facilitate 'naked conversations' about sustainable wellbeing. Using facilitation techniques, systems thinking, art, music, writing, movement and photography, we explore the active creation of our uniqueness - personal and collective, as individuals, organisations and society - and our relationships with others, with sustainable wellbeing, and with genuine happiness. This journey of creation is a journey of Love. And fun.
This entry was posted in Nature, Writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s