to survive deep water
when there is no air left
in which to drown
I concluded my last post in March with the following question: will I still hear the fullness of silence when I become attuned to the hearing aid? Will I still hear with my heart?
I don’t know the answer to that question. Not long after that post I returned the aid, packed up my belongings and moved to Vancouver Island to begin a whole new journey.
Most mornings I start my day with a hike up the local hill. It’s a long drawn out flat path before pulling up to a small hidden plateau in a series of short, steep slopes. Nothing arduous, to be sure, but it brings me to a lovely meditation spot of moss, aged Arbutus, Manzanita, and gnarled Fir. It’s a magical place, filled with other worldly beings that dance and play just out of vision. I catch them in the corner of my eye or when I just allow my sight to accept what is. I make a mandala of found leaves and twigs, petals and seeds and offer some ground corn for the hungry spirits. A Raven calls; she sings to my heart. Her voice is the rich, deep tones of aged cedars and ancient stone, of hidden canyons filled with raging rivers and walls dripping with moss and fern. I open up to the call and soar with her on the thermals that tower above. I take off my shoes and feel the cool rough rock ignite long lost sensations. My soul erupts with joy and I dance myself alive to her rhythm.
* * *
I have not yet set down permanent roots but the land here is opening her arms to me and I feel myself responding. Meanwhile, as I look for a place to call home I will continue my lifelong learning in how to hear with my heart.
I am currently in Saanich where I offer mobile BodyMind therapy sessions and pet/housesitting services. I am also in Vancouver every two months to offer BodyMind sessions. Check out my contact page at www.jo-annsvensson.com