feet & looking forward
Gregorian time warps. And here we are, sitting on the threshold of imbalance, waiting upon a new year to dawn. What will this socially constructed 2018 bring? For me? For us all?
I have been investigating a few threads, recently.
The other night I was obsessively learning about flower essences on the internet and stumbled across the word: hydrosphere, which is defined by google as "all the waters on the earth's surface, such as lakes and seas, and sometimes including water over the earth's surface, such as clouds." I found this by encountering a flower essence that would seek to re-connect one's own fluids to the hydrosphere, or essentially all of the waters of the Earth. I was completely shocked, realizing that this is something that I have been subtly trying to do in my own body. To find a word that captures a process that has been imaginatively happening in the recesses of one' psyche is quite astonishing and electrifying. The eyes of recognition!
I have been investigating, or beginning to, call in my capacity and/or ability to form social roots. What does this mean? In reading bell hook's book called "belonging", I have been revisiting thesis questions of place, home, and community. To me, a network of social roots seems like an important, poly-like structure, that is the very rhizome of relationships that houses someone in a place. These relationships are not always with humans, of course, and are just as much with the more-than human wild ones.
I am aware that this winter is my last winter in so-called Colorado, and so I am drinking up the snow, the slow, the quiet hum of mountain air and deer song before leaving this late spring and/or early summer... Before delicately (if you can) rip up my social roots here and re-plant. I am quite surprised to find that my heart breaks open in tender grieving at the thought of leaving, and I know that this is also right. I am coming up to mourning my time here, saying goodbye, and embracing the Death of this place, to me. Although, it will always live as a memory that has served.
I am still searching, for where will my social roots form in my next steppings, out into the world? I do not know. I do know that directionally, the signs are beginning to come. And I am also practicing waiting and watching, which way do the ancestors want me to go.
For now, resting pelvis, brave hips, and dreamy pines.
<3
I have been investigating a few threads, recently.
The other night I was obsessively learning about flower essences on the internet and stumbled across the word: hydrosphere, which is defined by google as "all the waters on the earth's surface, such as lakes and seas, and sometimes including water over the earth's surface, such as clouds." I found this by encountering a flower essence that would seek to re-connect one's own fluids to the hydrosphere, or essentially all of the waters of the Earth. I was completely shocked, realizing that this is something that I have been subtly trying to do in my own body. To find a word that captures a process that has been imaginatively happening in the recesses of one' psyche is quite astonishing and electrifying. The eyes of recognition!
I have been investigating, or beginning to, call in my capacity and/or ability to form social roots. What does this mean? In reading bell hook's book called "belonging", I have been revisiting thesis questions of place, home, and community. To me, a network of social roots seems like an important, poly-like structure, that is the very rhizome of relationships that houses someone in a place. These relationships are not always with humans, of course, and are just as much with the more-than human wild ones.
I am aware that this winter is my last winter in so-called Colorado, and so I am drinking up the snow, the slow, the quiet hum of mountain air and deer song before leaving this late spring and/or early summer... Before delicately (if you can) rip up my social roots here and re-plant. I am quite surprised to find that my heart breaks open in tender grieving at the thought of leaving, and I know that this is also right. I am coming up to mourning my time here, saying goodbye, and embracing the Death of this place, to me. Although, it will always live as a memory that has served.
I am still searching, for where will my social roots form in my next steppings, out into the world? I do not know. I do know that directionally, the signs are beginning to come. And I am also practicing waiting and watching, which way do the ancestors want me to go.
For now, resting pelvis, brave hips, and dreamy pines.
<3
my feet imprints w/ the sand, sacred territory of the ohlone peoples
september 2017
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