Categories
Life

The Consciousness of Plants

The garden is abundant with Calla Lillies.

There is something about them that I know, something that speaks to me through the softness and sway of their leaves and sweeping, cupped petal.

Theirs is an energy much like the soft breeze of spring that I love so much. It is an energy elegant but dear, and I know that I am that. I know I am that very same softness.

I am not a vegetarian, nor am I a vegan, although I care deeply for animals and respect them just as much as I do the human folk I share a table with. I’ll eat the animals, though, because plants are also alive and must be sacrificed in order for my body to consume them. That consciousness lives within plants does not seem a far out idea for me to accept…because I feel every inch of their life.

Plants, trees, flowers, herbs… I believe they are all very much alive, and as conscious as you or I. Live a day within my skin. I assure you, you would believe, too.

Our limbs grow without us consciously commanding them to. So do those of plants.

We become diseased without consciously intending to, sometimes with death the end result. So do plants.

I eat plants because I have to, just as I eat meat because I have to.

I don’t take either for granted.

Life is beautiful life, down here on this great big spinning rock of ours.

I cherish every curve.

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Categories
Life

Heaven On Earth

My soul held the music, and we were one.

There is no other way to describe it but that heaven exists on earth, and for several moments, I was there.

There is a beautiful tender song from Aladdin, where Aladdin sings about being ‘just a poor boy,’ unwanted and unloved.

When I was a child, this scene broke me in two.

It still does because it speaks to a place deep within.

A place that’s says:

Oh, my goodness, I see you.

Now, as I listen to the song there is a new sort of beauty to its lyrical tenderness.

I feel the music, it tells the story as deeply as the words.

It is as if the music itself is conscious.

It is as if the music itself cares.

The way it swells with empathy. The way it rises and falls and twists with aching.

It is heaven on earth.

And I am here, with beautiful music.

And the beautiful love it sings to me.

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Categories
Poetry

Fathers

It started with the Fathers of the Fathers.

Each ache, each man left broken

by the one who came before him:

not his fault,

that pain, continued.

But an unwanted gift, often unseen,

too often delivered.

It must now be seen.

It must now stop,

to break the rusty chain.

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Categories
Poetry

Curious

The concept of listening to music.

Curious.

Close your eyes.

Where is the music?

Are you listening?

Or is the music

in

you?

Categories
Life

Milk and Honey Wonderland

To be human

is to play the game of life

like flashing storms;

like unbridled children:

electric, unpredictable, messy.

Until finally, we hear the whisper

of a milk and honey wonderland

called home.

Categories
Life

Healing Through Dreams

The universe is such a clever muffin. I really shouldn’t downplay its genius by using words that soften my stance such as ‘clever’ and ‘muffin’, should I? I should be using solid words. Power words. Words like: ‘The universe is such a brute force,’ or something like that anyway.

It’s 2:21 am. You may need to forgive me a clunky sentence or two, but I’ve just been woken by the internal ramblings of a girl in crisis (cough: me) and that seems to be the perfect entry point for me to begin my blogging journey once again.

I say I’m in crisis because it really does feel to me like my life is a little like a china shop that’s been trampled by a team of angry bulls, but don’t let that worry you too much. Broken china scattered all about the place is about a million times more beautiful in my eyes, and so it is that the girl half-full enters the china shop to put you all at ease. I am not entirely okay. But I will be more than okay one day in the not too distant future. So there is that lovely thing to think about, isn’t there.

Having my china scattered all about the place has allowed me to see it in parts, and my goodness—what a shock it has been to find some of these parts. What a shock it has been to have realised that this entire time…I have had a choice. A choice to look out for my own needs above others. A choice to avoid overthinking and worrying. A choice to be okay with not being okay. A choice to say, ‘actually, I’m not okay with that. Perhaps we might consider doing it my way, instead.’

This post has been triggered by a dream. I’m well aware that there are many people out there who believe that dreams are just random, but my dreams have transformed my life in too many ways now for me to dismiss them as nonsense. Yes, some do seem to be random. But others, such as the one I’ve just woken from, are, without any doubt in my mind, meant to be seen, felt and healed.

Looking back over the years at some of the more traumatic dreams I’ve woken from, I can see exactly the lessons I should have received from them, had I actually paid attention and respected the power of the human psyche for what it is. Miraculous intelligence. We are fascinating creatures, guys. I mean, really, we are. We’re so brilliantly complex and amazing—isn’t it time we started to respect the power we all hold within ourselves?

The universe is a brute force. It will not stop until its messages have been received and processed, and so it is that I sit upon my bed in the early hours writing these words for you all to read. Now. Time to sleep. My goodness, I’ll be a little bit sleepy tomorrow then, won’t I?

photo of a woman sitting backwards on a metal chair leaning on her arm sleeping
Photo by Nicole Berro on Pexels.com

 

 

Categories
Poetry

Musical Trees

I wonder

if this tree can feel the music

that plays into my ears,

and through my soul.

As my hand touches the smooth of her grey,

I let the music sing up her spine,

until I can feel her smile.

Until I can hear her whisper:

‘Thank you. It’s so beautiful.’