Mississippi Moments

Saturday, August 18, 2007

Of labyrinths and rosemary...
...been working in the garden again and I really only went out to plant lavendar and 3 hours later...............
I have an unusual, but rather endearing habit of building labyrinths in sacred spaces where I go by myself to pray, listen, reflect, be... since walking the ones at Chartres and at Earth Sanctuary on Whidbey, I perceive a power and symbolism of intention and community in the labyrinth. There are many types from all over the world and from many cultures. I know how to make a simple one. For me, it represents believing in the Journey that is Life here and now. It represents Knowing that at the Heart, the Source is and Holds You in Wombed Love. All of You. It also represents all the entrapments, distractions, enticements, obstructions that come into the Path. I created one at Haven in the pouring rain with the dogs. A big one. Of firewood and large stones to put my "mark" on the land that I knew wasn't going to be "mine". I was so angry. hurt. alone. despairing. confused. lost. I walked it. Maybe more than once. I don't remember. I do remember that Fiona just sat higher up on the hill contentedly watching and Sadie bounded over the boundaries and lined paths to get to me and follow me around wherever I was going, whatever I was doing in the hopes that I would go inside to a warm fire and tea and treats. It was not a happy time. And the labyrinth building there and walking of it were a deep comfort.
When I was ready to believe and begin to dream again, I built one here at Fair Isle. Out of special stones from my journeys to special and sacred places-the Burren, the Yukon, the Satsop, the Quinault, the Ocean, the Field, Haven, San Diego, Alabama, Texas, Mississippi, Virginia, Colorado, Normandie and Bretagne, Ballard. Into this labyrinth went Breath, Prayer, Intention, Life, and Space. It was lined with oyster shells. (A nice, symbolic touch and they just throw them away at Chinooks anyway.)
It has been niggling at me since I returned from Iona. Time to take it apart. Which I did today. And as I did it, I was struck that I indeed have been given and have embraced with a succulent, powerful "A-HO!" , my Heart's Desires on this latest Journey to the Center. That I have been Held in Wombed Love. That, indeed, that my Dreams are True, Real, Alive, and Here. Just looking at Squishy in the window slobbering on the sill brought it all home. The limpet shells from the labyrinth area on Iona. The treasured days and evenings with Families of Origin and Choice. Peregrin in the backyard ready for more adventures. The classroom wherein I will work and laugh, learn and grow with the little ones and cultivate an abundant living for my Home and little ones, some more hairy than others. The box of textbooks and other materials for my first doctoral class, "Foundations of Doctoral Study". I'm going for it--at least to try it out to see if it's what I want. Six months ago, it was agitating inside me like an unbalanced old drier with a full load of laundry. And I came face to face with Erin Spruce, one of Neil's sons and one of the coolest people on the planet at the moment-with joy I might add. It surprised me. And it was okay.
And that I have so much that I am still getting rid of it. And that there is fresh fruit and berries for the making of pies and sauce. Which brings me to the rosemary part...
The rosemary spreads, its pungent and beautiful branches gesturing in curves and coils to spread and embrace all the space possible. The underlying, older branches support the new growth and also reach into the Earth to root and begin new families, all connected to the mother plant. Giving it a trim didn't seem to hurt it and actually opened the energy around it. Gave the sage a space to dance and move when the next windy day arrives. The trim also gave me a chance to uproot some weeds and old grass underneath the rosemary. There weren't too many, just a few. Made some sense to me. Something beautiful, pungent, and useful is growing in My Life. And some of it needs to be pruned and composted.
I wonder where the next labyrinth will sprout up...and why.


  • At 5:20 PM, Blogger The Freewaydiva said…

    Holds You in Wombed Love

    Ok...so, I thought that said WOMBAT love, which gave me rather an interesting picture.

    Here's to Pear Butter and pies. :)


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